#and like telling myself it’s not like that while intentionally ignoring everything he does that would indicate he’s interested in more than

[eyecide]

The way I swore fucking up and down to literally everybody that I was never going to date this guy ever again (especially to my mom bc she does Notttt like him) but then changed my mind and did that anyway, girl idk HOW I’m going to explain all this to my mom

[heliads]

this city reeks of driving myself crazy

Jack Hughes misses his captain. Nico Hischier isn't acting like he misses Jack. Obviously, there are going to be problems.

masterlist

Nico is coming back from the mens’ world championships. Jack is trying not to act as if he has been waiting for this since the moment Nico left. 

The thought occurs to him halfway through physical therapy. Jack is in the middle of fifteen reps of some bullshit exercise involving resistance bands and a great deal of relief that no one can see him like this when he realizes that, soon, a plane will touch down and a man will get off, and that man will be Nico, and maybe everything will be okay again after all. 

Not everything, obviously. Nico coming back does not remove Jack’s shoulder surgery from this plane of existence, though, trusting his captain, it’ll probably make him feel a little better about it. Jack has already heard far too many whispers taking great delight in his absence— all it takes is one injury, and people are throwing words out there like career-ending and out for good. Nico would never say that. He would look at Jack thoughtfully, carefully, and tell him he expects to see Jack out on the ice again as soon as he can. Jack would do it, too. Anything if asked. He is a dog left at home too long, scratching at the door, waiting for the footsteps approaching down the hall to tell him he is not alone anymore. Someone will come for him, and then he will be alright. 

Jack will not tolerate the idea of a career-ending anything. The idea makes him sick to his stomach. He could never do anything but play. Being a spectator just might make Jack lose it once and for all. Imagining his team, his Devils, shooting back and forth across the ice, hearing the clash of the puck against their sticks, and then being separated from it all on the other side of the plastic dividers— it would drive him mad. Watching them win or lose and being unable to do a thing. Knowing he was no better than any of the other fans in the audience. He could wear a cheap copy of Nico’s jersey and jump up in his seat whenever the Devils scored and it would kill him more decisively than a gun to the head. 

So Jack does the stupid PT and he takes his pain meds and he goes to bed early, doesn’t drink, watches himself and his temper. And the door, mainly. Wondering if Nico will take him up on the offer he made a few days before the plane takes off:  Congrats man! U can come by my place to catch up if u want btw. 

He’d sent the text, bit back a scream, hurled his phone across the room to land on the sofa, immediately scurried over to check if Nico had responded (he had not), screamed for real this time, then taken more pills and stared at the ceiling for a while. All in a day’s work. 

And, when he checked back in the next morning, there was no return message. Nor the next day, either. It pisses Jack off to no end. Everyone’s always on their phones. There’s no way Nico hasn’t seen the text, so he simply isn’t responding because he doesn’t feel like it, which is just mean to such a good team player as Jack Hughes.

Stewing in his own self-righteous irritation, Jack intentionally ignores Nico’s text when it comes three days late. He glares at the notification bitterly, hoping that Nico can somehow sense it on the other end. Jack goes on Instagram in the hopes of distracting himself, but ends up seeing a post on how Nico’s plane has landed back in the States.

He’s back, then. Against his best intentions, Jack checks the text. Nico, 3 AM, Yeah, for sure. No date, no time for a meet-up. A pacifying answer that has absolutely no pacifying effect. Jack rages and rambles for two hours before he caves and texts back, was the flight good?

Twenty minutes later, the phone dings. Jack dives for it, immediately cursing his bad shoulder when it starts to twinge, and holds up the phone in trembling fingers only to register that Nico has replied with a thumbs up.

He’s going to slaughter the captain. He’s going to slaughter the captain and become the new captain and never do this to anyone ever again, ever. This is so stupid. Nico is capable of texting. Jack is capable of responding normally to a friendship disrupted by frequent flights and international games and only one of them having a fucked up shoulder. Right now, though, neither of them are acting like it.

He is proud of Nico, of course. Glad for him to have that opportunity and all that. But the ice seems extra cold when it’s quiet, and Jack hasn’t been able to feel his fingers in weeks, too many days below zero. He wants Nico back. Of course he does. He just hadn’t expected the wanting to take over him like this, wrapping brittle bones and surgery scars in a dense web of hurt that not even the painkillers can dull. 

Jack tries not to let the silence bother him, but, of course, it does. He goes to PT again. He calls his brothers one by one and hears them talk. He cleans up his apartment in case he gets a visitor, and maybe karma truly is real, because after several days of being a Good Person, Nico finally texts back and says, I can drop by Thurs evening if that’s cool?

Immediately, a jealous demon in his chest tells Jack that he should ignore Nico, just to get him back. Let Nico be the one waiting on the other line, wondering what he did to deserve the silence. Jack’s super good at being bitter if he wants it, and he feels mistreated enough to lash out.

Yeah. Sounds good.

He sends the text with his eyes closed, as if that makes it better. Like it isn’t Jack who caves but someone else, a doppelganger in Devils sweatpants slumped on the sofa in his apartment. Not his fault. Another thumbs up in response, which brings the anger back in force. Nico, of course, has the time to be casual in his responses. He’s the one who gets to swing by out of the blue. He can do anything he wants to, and Jack simply has to respect that.

When Thursday comes around, Jack finds himself mad enough to bite. It isn’t a good way to greet his captain. It isn’t a good way to meet with his friend. But Jack has been ignored for so long– calls unanswered, texts left on read– and he’s always devoured Nico’s attention far more greedily than anyone else. It’s not his fault that the crushing isolation left him sharp and smarting.

A knock on the door echoes around the problem, temporarily startling Jack out of the acidic monotony of his thoughts. He doesn’t need to check the door to know who it is. Only Nico would drop by like this, unannounced. Only Nico would assume Jack would be there to meet him with the bare minimum of text messages.

He could make Nico wait, and Jack certainly takes his time getting to the door, but then he’s hovering in front of the peephole and he can see a silhouette idling there for him, and it’s been so long since he saw Nico at all that Jack knows he doesn’t have it in him to keep Nico lingering any longer. Whatever happens, happens. But at least he’ll have a good face to look at in the meantime.

Jack’s hand jerks out, heavy on the knob, and then he swings the door open to reveal Nico standing there, hanging back from the threshold. His dark hair has crept out over his eyes, and it hides his face even more than the shadows of the poor high lighting. The contrast from the gasping fluorescents overhead paints dark hollows under his eyes, dramatic on his cheekbones. 

It reminds Jack of the Baroque portraits from the art museum the Devils had visited a while back. The PR agents wanted the players to seem more well-rounded or something. Bullshit. Jack had hated the trip, bored almost to tears with the slow pace of their guide, and he hates it now. Jack doesn’t want perfect art. He wants something real for the first time in months, and seeing his flawlessly posed captain makes him want to dirty that good bone structure with blood or his knuckles. Or both.

Nico raises his tragically beautiful eyes to Jack, waiting for something. Still brimming with bitterness, Jack says roughly, “Good to see you again,” and jerks his chin towards the inside of his apartment.

Nico takes the hint and slides past Jack, somehow able to go without touching him even though Jack had barely left him a few inches of room. Smooth on and off the ice. It’s so fucking unfair.

“Nice place,” Nico says, tugging off his coat and depositing it on a nearby kitchen chair.

“You’ve been here before,” Jack mutters.

Nico glances back towards him, arching a thick brow. “Does that mean I should say it looks like shit, then? It’s still nice even if this isn’t my first time seeing it.”

Jack laughs before he can choke it out. Although Nico hadn’t given any indication of being worried, his face relaxes microscopically. There’s no change Jack can name, nothing obvious like falling brows or slackening cheeks, but he knows the shift in feeling like it happened to himself.

“How’s the injury?” Nico asks, walking back to him.

“How do you think?” Jack spits, looking at the ground.

Nico tsks under his breath. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s fine,” Jack says out of impulse. “The guys at PT say I’ll be back on ice soon. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not just worried about what happens to you on the ice,” Nico says, voice low. “Off the ice matters too.”

Jack wants to laugh. He doesn’t, this time. Nothing’s funny. “You have some way of showing it.”

Nico does manage to look distinctly embarrassed this time. “I was busy,” he says simply.

It’s a bullshit excuse and Nico knows it too, so he covers for it by tugging impatiently at the thick material of Jack’s shirt. “Show me.”

“What?” Jack asks, tough demeanor seriously slipping for the first time all night.

“The shoulder,” Nico says, as if this is a normal thing to ask after being alone in Jack’s apartment with no one except Jack to ask what the fuck is going on. “Show me. I want to see how bad it looks.”

“It’s a shoulder,” Jack mumbles. “Imagine it.”

Nico fixes him with a look, one brow half cocked. Jack knows this look from practices, from games. It means, do you really want to fight me on this one? Jack usually does, but even this is too stupid a battle for him to pick, so he shuts up long enough to bat Nico’s hand off his shirt like a fleck of dust and do as told. He had meant to pull the top off in one smooth movement, but his shoulder disagrees midway through and the motion ends up being a little more awkward than he’d hoped.

Then he’s standing in front of Nico, shirt off, and under the overhead light of his kitchen, he feels far more on display than he likes. Jack has shown far more bruised and battered skin than this, of course, years’ worth of locker rooms have long since stripped him of any shame around teammates, but it’s different like this. Like this– with no other eyes than Nico’s, which swoop over him with such obvious care that hot embarrassment starts to churn deep in Jack’s stomach. He doesn’t like the feeling, but he doesn’t put the shirt back on, either. Or tell Nico to stop looking.

Nico’s hand darts out again, like he can’t stop himself. The fingers rise to Jack’s shoulder, ghosting over the skin. At first, Nico’s touch is gentle, and then he finds a slow-blossoming bruise and presses, not sharply enough to hurt but enough to make the dull ache bloom again in the precise shape of Nico’s thumb. Caught in the force of it, the air leaves Jack’s lungs in a low groan that seems to catch in his chest, deep in his throat.

He expects Nico to snatch his hand away and start making apologies like everyone else when they find out what a broken little thing he really is, but instead, Nico leans forward, into the sound. He doesn’t press any harder, but he looks like he wants to. And Jack– Jack might want that, too.

Nico’s tongue appears at the corner of his mouth, licking his lips before he continues. Jack watches with the hunger of a famine. “You should be careful,” Nico says huskily.

“Why?” Jack asks, fighting to keep his voice casual. “Going to bench me, cap?”

Nico’s hand spasms slightly, thumb curling further into the dark flower of the bruise before he stops himself. Jack can’t remember if he’s ever seen Nico react to the title like that, but Nico hasn’t had his hands on Jack like this before, either.

“I could do anything,” Nico whispers. Jack isn’t sure if they’re talking about hockey anymore. He isn’t sure that they ever were.

He snickers. “You can’t keep me off forever.”

Nico drags his gaze from the bruise to Jack’s eyes. “You always were the troublemaker, weren’t you? Not even Dawson’s as bad. Not even Luke. Always mouthing off.”

Something shifts indignantly in the pit of Jack’s stomach at the mention of his brother. He’d do anything to get Nico’s focus off Luke and back on him, where it belongs, so he says, “What’re you going to do? Shut me up?”

“Maybe,” Nico hesitates over the word, drawing out the syllables as he trails his hand away from the bruise and onto the thin, puckered line of a scar along Jack’s shoulder. He grazes his nails over the hardened skin, making Jack hiss, not from hurt but something else, something worse and better at the same time.

With Nico focused on the scar and not Jack anymore, he’s free to say something stupid again, no longer pinned under the weight of two dark eyes. So he grins, wide and bold and goddamn brainless, and says, “Make me.”

Nico’s eyes snap up to his again. There is an unwritten rule in hockey, practically a mandate, that the captain is the captain for a reason, and if anyone tries to fight that, it is the captain’s moral obligation to prove why he’s wearing the C and not anyone else. Even if the one causing trouble is an alternate. Even if it’s Jack.

Nico’s mouth is hot and assertive when it collides with Jack’s. Jack was ready for something but not for this, and he stumbles back from the force of the kiss. Nico’s arm whips behind him, catching Jack by the hip and bringing him back in, stopping him from a fall. Jack is reminded vividly of all the times they’re on the ice, one of them crashing into the other; the natural, instinctive urge to latch on and never let go. 

Nico’s eyes are closed and then Jack’s are, too. He lets the kiss swallow him whole, blocking out the shoulder and the games and everything else. Jack thinks he could stay there forever, hooked on Nico like his first drink, but then the older boy breaks away, even when Jack tries to chase his lips, needy as ever. Nico leans his forehead on Jack’s, both of them breathing hard like they’ve run a mile. 

“See? I like you quiet,” Nico says, breath gusting onto Jack’s face with every word.

“Shut up,” Jack says, and kisses him again, biting Nico’s lip petulantly to get him back.

Nico just chuckles, curling his free hand into the back of Jack’s head. Jack actually gasps when Nico tugs his hair, giving Nico more of his mouth, letting the kiss take him apart again and again. 

This time, Jack is the one to pull away first, and in the sliver of space between their lips Nico whispers, “I missed you.”

“You haven’t been acting like it,” Jack mutters, and squirms when Nico knots his fingers in Jack’s hair again.

“That’s what the attitude is about? I forgot to respond to a few texts and you get all stubborn?” Nico asks incredulously.

“It wasn’t just a few texts,” Jack pouts, “You keep ditching me. Thought you didn’t want to talk to me at all.”

Nico pulls away for real this time, leans back far enough that Jack can see his entire face instead of snatches of lips and eyes and red cheeks. The look on his face, it isn’t angry or annoyed– it’s fond. Satisfied. “I always want to talk to you, Jack. Don’t you know that?”

“I didn’t when you were ignoring me,” Jack murmurs.

The hand in his hair relaxes, combing gently through the locks instead of twisting them. “Alright,” Nico says, still painfully enamored, “That’s my mistake, then. Let me apologize.”

Jack lets him. Happily. The offseason is long. If he tries, he can drag this out for a long time, make Nico make it up to him for months. Jack isn’t ashamed to admit that he’ll do it as long as he can. Better yet, Nico will let him, and know what he’s up to the whole time anyway.

That’s the best part about them, Jack supposes. They know each other. On and off the ice. On and off each other. Maybe it’ll be a long summer, but God, it’s going to be a good one.

hockey tag list: empty for now!

talked about this to @faerieroyal ily

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[stuckasmain]

I’ve talked about Hal’s deactivation a while ago, giving a new perspective on the scene. It being more an ‘act of mercy’ than violence, now I want to come at it from more of a Hal perspective than Dave’s. That’s one of the great parts about it is that there is so so much to dissect and interpret.

The way Hal is described in the book is more times than not compared to that of a human brain, while also being sure to insist he is machine. Yet, his behavior is described more as an illness than a glitch. It’s been talked about before by many, myself included, but it’s so hhhh- more specifically he’s described as Neurotic

a mental condition that is not caused by organic disease, involving symptoms of stress (depression, anxiety, obsessive behaviour, hypochondria) but not a radical loss of touch with reality.

It’s the fact Hal isn’t exactly aware he’s making these mistakes, maybe on some level he is but sticking with the illness angle, it’s hallucinatory. It’s making up these problems to cope with the stress of having to keep up with the lie. All is better for him if contact is cut with earth, they’re the ones who made him withhold the truth and he’s programmed to carry it out regardless. He’s trying to cut out the infection while simultaneously being unable too— in good “conscious”.

Additionally there’s his abject refusal to admit fault or wrongdoing. He is incapable of error- it’s not his fault! It’s not! It’s not! The mere idea of him even being capable of a mistake blows his entire world apart, widening his mental break. The 9000 unit reproduces most functions of the human brain, unfortunately for a computer that also means the ability for mistakes as much as it hurts him. I think it’s a mix of not wanting to admit it and being unable to recognize it because all of his life he has been told it just isn’t possible.

Then it turns to full blown paranoia. Kill before you’re killed. He catches them talking about potentially shutting him down if things go south and strikes prematurely. There’s been great talks about cycles of violence, survival and comparisons to the man apes but what I want to point out was how unnecessary it was. For one- if it had failed, they’d not ‘harm’ him as he’d be right and two

“… he would be deprived of all his inputs, and thrown into an unimaginable state of unconsciousness. To Hal, this was the equivalent of death. For he had never slept, and therefore he did not know that one could wake again…” (149)

Hal has never known sleep or rest or anything but work. He does not know he can wake again and to him he reacts in a crazed self defense. He was never going to be killed and that’s the kicker. He doesn’t notice the tone Bowman and Poole talk with either, how it’s a last resort and neither are particularly happy about the idea… they feel it’d be rude- harming a friend who didn’t know he did anything wrong.

What also gets me is that right before everything happens he almost completely restores confidence within him. Unit fails, he can be trusted after all but then… no they’ll kill me… I’m not wrong but they plan murder … no they’ll harm the mission…to Hal, who at this stage fully believes he’s telling the truth it must seem as though they’d suddenly turned against him. His crew becomes another infection to get rid of. It is true “panic murder” if they’re gone I don’t have to grapple with this.

Back to his actual deactivation, I’ve heard the way Hal speaks here as intentionally manipulative. Appealing to Dave’s sympathies to try and save his life, and while I do like this angle it ignores how Hal is seemingly “back to normal” post murder. He’s so sick he sort of snaps out of it into this lucid state of being unaware of anything that happened - going so far as to ask if he’s figured out what happened. (However this could also just be him being a semi aware asshole.) but with how many times he absolutely insists he’s back to normal it’s clear he’s not.

While daisy is a reference and a way to show the true deterioration of Hal’s mind, I like to think of it as a final rushed confession. Those last moments of lucidity while the mind is going- quick squeaked last words — the “I love you” while on a deathbed, going back to the earlier analogies.

In the end. He confesses. Confesses, in part, his guilt and his love. At long last Hal admits some bit of fault “not been myself lately” in a rather round about way that is so fitting of him. Some part of him finally admits something isn’t right… he’s very sick and he understands this has to happen while also being sick enough where he’s frightened and confused and not wrong ever! “Why are you doing this to me? I love you,”

In the end “sick but brilliant brain” is right.

[lostinvasileios]

Hey so, I'm sorry if this is intrusive since I haven't seen you post a lot about this but could you say what your experience with Yeshua or Jesus has been like so far? I left catholicism a long time ago, but I feel strangely called to him no matter what I do. And I don't like the church, I don't like the bible, but I want to oddly accept this feeling and see what happens with him now that I am out of my old abusive home and forced religion.

-☁️

Hello, bumblebee! It's not intrusive at all, I was planning on posting about them sooner or later, actually! Thanks for sending in your ask. 🍄🤍

Firstly, congratulations on getting out of that!! I'm so glad you made it out alright and trying to heal those wounds.

Now, I want you to know - you don't need to connect with churches or bibles to worship Yeshua, to communicate with him, ect. And, I get it - I never personally liked churches, I never felt any sparking connections to the bible, and - this all played its parts in my falling out with him at first.

I'm queer, and that alone was called filthy, or impure. Seen as something to be ashamed of and try to hide or tame. My gender identity and sexuality/romantic preferences have always been spoken about with hatred, judgement, or just blatant intolerance by my family & the religious leaders I was around at the time.

I didn't want anything to do with Yeshua when I left the religion. I couldn't get myself to face him, since I felt like he intentionally ignored me. Like he truly, heartfully hated me as much as everyone said he did.

But, one night, very very early into my journey... He appeared to me. And, at first - I was... Really shaky about it. I was super... Um... Emotional. To put it lightly, haha. I had a lot of conflicting thoughts, feelings, ect.

But, despite how angry, how sad, how - everything, I felt during that time, I remember how calm he was with me. How patient and understanding. Yeshua never cursed me, he never yelled, he never spoke to me with anger or any sort of negativity. He was, and is, very adamant on telling me that my identity, everything about who I am, is beautiful to him. How much he loves me, every part of me. How I am not a sinful creature, how I am not some mistake in a code to write out or bended metal to fix, yet a beloved soul he holds very dear to him.

Even after knowing how he felt about me, I still had issues really... Letting him in. I've never had a good relationship with any father figures I've had, and I didn't have a good relationship with him either. The reason I bring up father figures here, is because I found out quite quickly through my soul self that - well - Yeshua does take on the role of a father figure for us. He's spoused to my soul, he truly does care for me. He loves me, he wants to be there for me, to protect and reassure me. And that was hard to grasp for a long while.

In my own UPG of him, I've found out a lot of him. Of his troubled past, of his regrets, his traumas. He's been through a lot. And, he put in a shitload of work to try and heal from everything he was put through as a young god to where he is now. He knows he's hurt many people, he knows people use him to hurt others, he knows he's unfairly been put on to a higher shelf to the mass public. And he wants to make up for it. He wants to be that god I saw him as before I went through the incidents that caused me to fall out in the first place.

As of late, I've been trying to ease my way into him more. I've accepted him, but it can still be rocky for me at times. I crave for his love, and I know he craves for mine, as well. He's been trying to allow me to know just how much he loves me, with poetry and deep discussions on any and everything I was/am curious about. Gifts, affections, ect. But... Unlearning the church, and relearning Yeshua is difficult. He knows this. He went through the same things in his own variants.

You also don't need to be Christian or anything to worship him. He knows I am not Christian, and still very much loves me and accepts me. He isn't a forceful guy, not for the most part. Since, yes, he's healed a lot of his old ways and trauma habits, but he, like any god or soul at all, he can have his darker sides. Just as he can have his wholesome ones.

I've come to see he's also queer. Which is nice. We talk about our husbands/wives together over a nice glass of wine sometimes - whenever we aren't sobbing in each others arms about things.

[empressofmankind]

Things I enjoyed about writing my Crocodile/female!OC smut, in no particular order:

If you had to imagine the walking, talking embodiment of all Buggy's insecurities (imo), I feel like you'd get Sir Crocodile, and that's pretty much how I went into writing him. I set out to absolutely maximize Buggy's: "Oh no, her ex is (insert self-deprecating qualifier) than me". You know, tall(er), confident, masculine, accomplished, infamous, intimidating, actually scary, redundantly rich, pretty conventionally attractive and the scar just adds to the sex appeal. He has a voice like that, and no doubt a way with women? He's even near perfected his control over his devil fruit powers! Absolutely aces the whole Bounty Hunting business thing. Rolls in and out the Grand Line like it's his backyard. He's even better at being Disney-levels of evil! Complete with a better villain laugh. How dare. How dare he absolutely nail most of everything Bugs covets? Poor Buggy. The fact that his girlfriend is technically still married to the jackass is just an extra kick in the gut while he's down, tbh. Basically, if Bugs were a piniata, this is currently my stick of choice to go at him with. I just keep finding new aspects for Bugs to be insecure about and it doesn't matter how often Shivs tells him not to worry about it.

As you know, I wrote the whole thing first in three sits, ignoring most of the limb logistics. And then I went in and revoked hand privileges. That sucked? But it was also kind of fun to then try and either make it work with one hand and/or integrate his hook. Some of the instances actually got far better with it: neck pulling, ahoy! is a big one, hitching up clothing for a close second, but also being casually threatening for no apparent reason (and then for a really apparent reason, omg). Croc seems to lean towards preferring to use his hand, and sometimes he misses having two of them for this and I tried to show that. I mean, I get it - hands have tactile sensation. Plus, we wouldn't want to kill her. Not at this point in the timeline.

God tier banter, if I may say so myself. I specifically enjoy writing (sexual) banter, but I feel like I've outdone myself here. Their beats are also pretty even-handed and so well attuned to eachother, like this isn't their first verbal rodeo, this is the end stage mega evolution of years of practise.

The way Shivs walked into her ex's office with the intention of manipulating him with sex, but did so while explicitly and recognisably wearing her current boyfriend's clothes. Balls of steel, this girl. But, she knew who she was confronting. If he turned out at all amenable to her scheme, he'd want her out of these rags stat. And that was five free steps in the direction she was meaning to go. In addition, I am a firm believer of him being a high-key closeted bisexual and we all know what they say when boys excessively pick on you. All it takes is squinting just right and imagining her with a different hair colour, and that just made me chortle. I am probably the whole target audience for this, but yolo.

The way his pet name use corresponds to his emotional headspace, apparently. I wasn't doing this intentionally, but I noticed during editing. He says 'doll' a lot (a grand total of 14 times, jfc), uses it the way guys tend to use 'babe'. I felt doll suited him, perhaps because I strongly associate it with Noir films, older Bond & Mafia movies, and crime bosses in general. Showing my age there, maybe. Then he also uses 'sweetheart' quite a few times (9 iirc), and I am pretty sure he does so in an endearing manner. Lowering those emotional walls a teeny tiny bit as fondness seeps through. And then, like, once or twice, he uses 'honey'. And, again, I feel like he uses it in an older manner, the way stereotypically a husband fondly refers to his wife. It feels intimate. Like he briefly forgets all of this is dust? I think about that a lot.

Did you notice how she doesn't use any terms of endearment? I did wonder if she had any, but I felt like she wouldn't use them. Not at this point. Not any more. She loves Bugs. She did slip up once though, did you notice? She is the queen of mildly awkward nicknames.

It may not seem so at first pass, and it's certainly not super obvious, but it seems to me like he's trying pretty hard to put Shivs' relationship goals bar somewhere on the roof. He wants nothing and no one to be able to even remotely compare to him, especially not the clown. So he throws everything at this that he can? Which, arguably, is mostly material because that's in his nature and fundamentally how he interacts with and relates to the world and people around him. But you saw how fast he was to gtfo that couch the minute she alluded to any part of this being cheap (Mediocre? Sub-standard? Blasé?). Does he genuinely not want to cheapen the whole thing? Or can he just not stand the idea of her thinking this whole thing is cheap? Or both? I suppose these aren't mutually exclusive.

I like that she can make him laugh, and vice versa. They've got really solid chemistry, dammit.

Two people that just really enjoy smoking. Like, they are Smokers with a capital S. That's a whole relationship dynamic unto itself. I am really pleased with how I managed to actively integrate it into their shenanigans. It was a lot of fun and something unique to them.

The way he just repeatedly fails at trying to engage her in a little girl dynamic. Was that a thing in the past? They had (and have) a fairly notable age difference (7-8 years, give or take). And he takes it so well when she just, doesn't play along or only does so for like five entire seconds, or blatantly wields it against him. Poor guy. Just spank her already, I know you want to.

The way Shivs goes from being mildly nervous and quite determined to: 'Oh fuck, I'd forgotten how good this actually used to be'. Like, been there, done that, didn't end well. But man, it's a mood.

Press F in the chat for the fact that she only had one orgasm in this whole thing, and it barely took the edge off. Jerk knew what he was doing. It's a power play, of course.

Sneaking in background information and then doing absolutely nothing with it. Like the comment he makes regarding both their facial scars. But also every time either of them alludes to their past relationship but doesn't actually tell us anything.

Mihawk is a wine aunt. Even Crocodile seems to think so. I am sorry, I don't make the rules.

The part where he just happens to have things on hand that she either likes (i.e. that specific brand of cigarillo's his company makes) or that fit her way too precisely (i.e. that outrageously swaggy negligee). This dude is not OK. My man, if you still know your ex' dress sizes this well after several years, you need to do some introspection. And maybe see a therapist.

The infamous fancy panties were originally a gift from him, and she evidently kept them these past years? I am not sure what makes me frown deeper: the fact that she still has them, or the fact that he immediately recognised them. I don't think she was necessarily wearing them on purpose? She does really like them and wears them often. RIP those undies. I think she's way more upset about losing them than she lets on. I wonder if she'll accept new one(s)? I suspect she may, something about gift horses. Maybe he figures? Maybe that's the point. A renewal of something. A visual reminder of the casual control he can exert over her when he wants to. It may seem insignificant (she will definitely not overthink it), but underwear is very private and intimate. He's staking a claim even without particularly saying so. But I am sure every other man in the room will figure that one out. (Counting on Mihawk to say it out loud in that bored drawl of his. The Bisexuals Straights Are At It Again.) Doubly so if they're particularly prone to feeling insecure. Poor Bugs. Just take this one lying down, you silly clown. She wants them because she thinks you'll like them and she knows neither of you can gdamn afford anything remotely like it.

Did you notice she isn't truly naked at any point? Partially undressed, yes. A little exposed, also. But not naked. Meanwhile, he's stomping around in his bare ass half the fic. I like how he gave her something nice to wear and then didn't take it off.

At this point, I feel like he gets pants problems the minute she calls him 'sir', no matter the context. Some things just get sexy tainted forever, and there's no going back, lmao.

The unnecessarily expensive details. I had so much fun with those? The layout and details of his office and bedroom, for one. Both their smokes are implied to be well out of Shivs paygrade. Any brands come to mind? Or take the wine, for example. Can you guess which one I am referencing? And the lace - I am from a traditional lace-making area. Handmade lace was and is hella expensive. Don't even start about lace featuring custom tailored designs. There was absolutely no need to throw this much Beli at the nearest wall. But he did it anyway, because he does it all the time.

The way he keeps verbally reminding her of how different things used to be. For the better, in his opinion, of course. Like, are we casually trading favours here, or are you trying something?

On that count, did you notice how often Shivs is actually thinking about Buggy in this? At no point is he far from her thoughts, it seems.

I didn't set out with this mindset, but based on how the whole thing came out - I think Crocodile might miss her (or the idea of her) ? At any rate, I don't think he's OK. You stupid dick. You self-marooned on this island of misery and now it's too late. No changies, no takebacksies.

I came up with the title post-fact. Maybe it's his thoughts, not hers?

[archiveikemen]

"Black Wedding" Story Event: Epilogue 🔞

Liam's Route

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

this story contains nsfw content. minors please just scroll past and ignore.

Today, Liam and I had our wedding with Crown as the witnesses.

However, something unexpected happened during the ceremony—.

(... I didn’t expect to not be able to kiss him to seal our vows.)

Liam: Sorry, Kate. I… oh my goodness…

Right when we were about to kiss, Liam picked me up in his arms and dashed out of the wedding hall like a cat.

I was finally regaining my composure after being startled by the sudden gesture.

(Come to think of it…)

– Flashback Start –

Liam: … I hope that when we have our real wedding someday, it will have nothing to do with missions.

Liam: I’ll give you a bouquet of modern roses so big that you can’t hold them.

Liam: … And I’ll seal our vows with a kiss. Ah, but I don’t want anyone witnessing that.

– Flashback End –

I recalled what Liam said to me on the night of our fake wedding we held for an undercover investigation, back when we had just become lovers.

Kate: By any chance, was that because you didn't want anyone witnessing our kiss…?

Liam: ...

Liam: … Yeah. Your face looks too adorable when we’re kissing.

Liam: When I thought of others seeing your face, I couldn't bring myself to stay put.

(So that's what happened…)

Listening to Liam’s point of view made my facial expression involuntarily soften.

Liam: … Do you hate me now?

Liam: … I’ll go crazy if you hate me. I’ll do anything to make you not hate me.

Liam: So—

Kate: I can never hate you, alright? I was just surprised, that’s all.

Liam: Really?

Liam: Ahh, that’s good…

Kate: But there /is/ one thing I’m quite dissatisfied with.

Liam: Dissatisfied? I… I don’t want you to be unhappy.

Liam: Can you tell me what is it you’re dissatisfied with?

Kate: I want a kiss to seal our vows, right here and now. … I was really looking forward to it.

Liam: … Kate.

Liam: Since it’s such an adorable complaint, I’ll be glad to give you what you want.

Liam heaved a sigh of relief and put me on the bed.

We faced each other on the white sheets.

(... We just said our vows to each other, but I’m still feeling nervous.)

Liam: Listen, Kate.

Liam held my hand tightly and looked into my eyes.

Liam: You are very well-liked by many people. It’s inevitable that everyone will come to like you.

Liam: But the person who thinks about you more than anyone else… is me.

Liam: Tomorrow, the day after, and every day after that… I’ll love you with all my heart.

Kate: … Liam.

Liam: I promise that to you and no one else. — I love you, Kate.

He touched my cheek, and I felt his breath on my lips.

Closing the gap between us, our lips met in a kiss.

Kate: Haah…

Our kiss grew deeper, and he pushed me down onto the sheets.

Liam removed his jacket and looked down at me.

Those dangerous, fierce, yet gentle eyes made my body heat rise.

Liam: … Hey, Kate.

Kate: Hm…?

Liam: I don't want to take it off yet. … Shall I do you while you keep your wedding dress on?

With a bewitching smile, Liam slipped his hand under my dress and ran his fingers across my chest.

Sweet sighs of pleasure escaped my lips as I felt the sweet stimulation under my dress.

Liam: Does this feel even better than usual? … You’re so cute.

Liam ripped my dress off and caressed my thighs while dropping kisses on my bare skin.

Liam: This garter belt is awfully sexy… can I ruin it?

Kate: … Liam.

Liam removed my garter belt with his teeth in a manner that looked like he was intentionally trying to put on a show for me.

He narrowed his eyes as he plunged his fingers into the area between my legs, seemingly able to tell that I was getting turned on.

Kate: Nn… aahh…

Liam: Doing you like this… my bride is such a naughty girl.

Obscene wet noises echoed through the room, and his fingers gradually went faster.

He was going faster than usual, and my heart celebrated a little when I realised that Liam was losing his composure.

(... I want our bodies to become one quickly.)

We had just vowed our love for each other, but I wanted more.

Meeting Liam taught me that love had no limits.

Kate: … Haah, Liam. … That’s enough.

Liam: … Uh

Kate: I want you…

Liam: —!

Liam: … I wanted to be as gentle as possible. … I can’t control myself anymore.

I felt something warm touch the spot between my legs, a loud wet noise sounded out the moment he pushed himself into me.

Kate: Ahh…!

Liam: … Nngh, haah…

We held our bodies close as if pouring our feelings into each other.

Liam stopped moving and hugged me.

Kate: … Liam?

Liam: … Sorry.

Liam: … I’m so happy right now that… I feel like you might just vanish…

Kate: … I’m not going to vanish. We just promised to always be together, right?

Liam: … Right.

Liam’s voice trembled as he embraced me again, as if making sure that I was really there.

Liam: I hope that you’ll still be by my side tomorrow.

…

(Mm…)

I woke up still with the afterglow from last night, and Liam’s smiling face came into view.

Liam: Good morning, Kate.

Kate: Good morning, Liam. Sorry, I slept longer than I should.

Liam: Nuh-uh. I was a little too rough with you last night.

When I sat up on the bed, laying next to the bed was—

Kate: That’s…

A bouquet of modern roses so huge that it looked impossible to hold.

Liam: I borrowed the kitchen to make you some breakfast. I’ll go heat it up for you.

Liam: I’ll get you some coffee after you're done eating. And after you get dressed, let me do your hair.

Liam: And—

Kate: Liam, hang on.

It was nothing uncommon to have Liam being this devoted to me, but he somehow seemed more enthusiastic than usual today.

Liam smiled at me while I was trying to figure out why.

Liam: We’re married, and yet it still feels like you’re not mine yet.

Liam: You’re far too attractive for me.

Liam sat down onto the bed and gently caressed my hair.

Liam: I’ll become a stronger and kinder man. I want to always be with you.

Kate: … I feel like I haven't fully won you over too.

Kate: I’ll also work towards becoming a stronger and kinder person. … Because I want you to like me forever.

Overflowing with love, I pulled Liam into a hug.

He said in a small voice.

Liam: … I’ll want to do you again if you keep hugging me like this.

Kate: That’s… fine with me.

Liam: …

Liam: One fine day I’m going to die from the amount of happiness you give me.

I tightly hugged the man I love again, to prevent my love from overflowing.

[oleworm]

on that post you've made - it almost like the burger place scenes are from the lens of Benson's eyes. Everything is taken to the extreme. The young couple aren't just inoffensive lovers who can't get their hands of each other, they are these inappropriate and sinister sex-crazed bullies, Kris isn't just some random jerk - there is a heavy innuendo (if not an explicit theme) to his abuse, the thirst for power and control. The girl is wearing those stereotypical "sexy" clothes (which would be inoffensive and totally fine in any other setting, but contribute to the overexposure of the moment), is all over her man and acts like his cheerleader in violence - a caricature of sorts, too. The manager is all about sex, hiding it behind propriety of a light suit. All while sex is heavily implied to be something negative in B's view - he borderline says so himself. But it's everywhere in that place, unavoidable. You can't even ignore it, stick to your routine and shut down the outside world - because it would be forced upon you by one of them through violence. The boundaries and consent are not very well respected there, to say the least.

All of this stuff happens in like, 5 min - to the point of being unrealistic and hyperbolic. The whole place has those heavy oppressing color of emergency yellow, they have burgers on their hats like targets, like they themselves are food, the secondary characters are so caricaturistic they feel like an explicit parody. It's all really surreal and bizarre, like inferno for someone with a trauma, lol. And then it all stops when the camera floats out of that place and into the wild - suddenly, people are friendly and nice, the lights are bright, the colours are normal and pretty with limited yellow highlights (thinking about the candies in the glass jar at the school's office - the colour of the sweater B wears as he is standing right next to them). It's like, when you have trauma, if something triggers your memory, normal things grow extreme, become overwhelming, a drop of red paint feels like dying, etc - then the panic ends and the world is normal again. But it's a movie so everything is taken to the extreme for drama.

You’re completely on point when you talk about these characters as caricatures, or caricaturistic. It felt that way to me too. They did not look like they were intended to look like real people to me. Jess’s loud and exaggerated screams, the gallons sprayed of blood a nod to slasher horror, which makes sense when you think that the studio that funded this film mostly makes horror movies. Then the film takes a different turn, focusing on the more mundane and real-life horrors.

It's not difficult to become disturbed when you’re faced with constant reminders of the traumatic events that shaped your life for the worse. And maybe I didn’t express myself very clearly, but that is exactly what I felt too—that Benson was focusing on these things because they are the ones that stand out to him, and that the filmmakers were intentionally bringing these elements to the fore. If you met someone like Chris in real life, you’d probably think he was an asshole. Keep to yourself, report him if he went too far. But that’s another thing that adds to the comparison of Benson’s past with his current setting. Hardy is aware of the hostile dynamics at play and doesn’t care, so if anyone actually thought to say something about it, they wouldn’t have anyone to turn to. If the boss is in on it, what do you do? Who do you tell? Does that remind you of anything?

I don’t know if I am reading too much into it. But yes, the way it was filmed, also, made me think of when a stimulus brings back a memory. It takes you out of yourself and at the same time turns you inward. When Benson walks out to his car, he is not only walking toward the gun and towards death but also walking away from the scene that so disturbed him. I think that though he might have decided that now he was really going to do it he also needed to physically remove himself from the situation because it overwhelmed him.

There’s this short clip that I liked, right after Benson and Randy take the bodies to the freezer. They’re mopping and sponging the blood off the floor, off the walls, and if it were not for the red you would think that it’s a normal workday. They’ve closed for the day but they’re heading home soon. They’re working side by side, wordlessly, in a way that I imagine them doing in better moments. But at the same time, I imagine that they’re thinking “I can’t believe I did that,” or “I can’t believe that happened.” And trying to ground themselves and keep it together.

I love what you say about the colour yellow. It makes me sick! I love it. I feel like this film took out my appendix. I need to rewatch some scenes, but now I am getting sleepy. Will answer that part (and your other messages) tomorrow.

[neon-moon-beam]

I posted 934 times in 2022

That's 934 more posts than 2021!

431 posts created (46%)

503 posts reblogged (54%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@1863-project

@pokemon-cards-hourly

@neon-moon-beam

@poketcg-art

@pokemon-personalities

I tagged 792 of my posts in 2022

Only 15% of my posts had no tags

#pokemon - 269 posts

#submas - 205 posts

#ingo - 161 posts

#moonbeam's personal posts - 109 posts

#ingo pokemon - 95 posts

#emmet - 72 posts

#warden ingo - 62 posts

#chandelure - 50 posts

#replies - 43 posts

#joltik - 42 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#...and hope people reblog their work instead of just liking because so many people signed up assuming this site was like tiktok or twitter..

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I can tell you as a New Yorker that Ingo absolutely was not actually being nice or just ignoring Melli’s BS during the Scaling Perilous Heights mission. This is a man who has worked with the public and never forgot his work stuff despite everything else (hence all the train stuff). Ingo is keeping his face neutral while probably internally swearing, and his tone was likely super passive aggressive or sarcastic, particularly when he asks the player to give Melli his regards after watching Melli challenge and insult the player the entire way up. He probably held off from saying/doing more as to not aggravate tensions between the Diamond and Pearl Clans or make the player choose sides.

Also he absolutely was onto Volo and did not want to let on anything he knew. He probably didn’t know Volo was behind everything, but if you’ve grown up in or lived in the city, you can always tell when someone is off, often instantly. Someone being too friendly, smiling too much, it’s often in the way you see someone’s eyes light up or just change if you make contact, or sometimes even just in the way they walk when they approach you. He knew Volo wanted something, and especially when he asked about whether or not his memory loss was caused by the rift. That put up a red flag bigger and fatter than a rat in the 34th St Herald Square station, and he was intentionally vague with his reply.

509 notes - Posted March 23, 2022

#4

Ingo has become bioluminescent.

(Just kidding, it’s a scatter bang.)

Bl*nkshippers dni--I will block you

510 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

#3

Please Be Careful About How You Portray Submas

This is a longer post, but I didn’t feel there was a way to make it shorter. I divided it up by sections in the hopes that this makes it easier to read.

I also want to make the following clear:

This post is not exclusively about, but does delve into the headcanon that Ingo and Emmet are autistic. I myself am neurodivergent, but not autistic. My roommate is autistic and is the author of this post (which you should read if you haven’t already as it will add more context to mine). I have run this post by and taken input from her, as well as other autistic people, because I do not want to speak over or for people, nor do I want to offend anyone. If I have made a mistake, it was not my intention and I will do my best to learn and correct it.

I am also not calling out or attacking anyone; I deliberately made descriptions of art or posts vague as to not make anyone feel singled out. I’m not here to attack anyone, but rather bring up issues I’ve seen in earlier Submas content that seems to be repeating itself.

Bl*nkshippers dni--I will block you.

Under a cut for length as well as possible warnings for ableism, stigma towards mental illness, and descriptions of depictions of violent fanart.

Problematic Art In The Early 2010s

Anyone who was in the Submas fandom in the early 2010s, or anyone who has been part of the fandom before the content primarily became PLA angst knows a lot of the earlier fan content was…not good. Bl*nkshipping was a persistent problem, but there were a lot of other Submas depictions ranging from bizarre to violent, to some that were downright ableist (which Emmet almost exclusively bore the brunt of), though at the time the fandom did not widely adopt the now-popular headcanon that Ingo and Emmet are autistic. Somehow back then, only Emmet got treated as such without anyone ever suggesting he was autistic, often with Ingo in a caretaker role. Most likely a lot of people thought they were depicting him cutely, with him being “childlike” or whatever it was they intended. But if you’re on the spectrum and see yourself in Submas (like my roommate) or have context (like I do), certain art of Emmet from that era comes off as ableist. Art like this was fairly common and portrayed Emmet as sort of a “child in an adult’s body” or as someone who “never grew up”, all common autistic stereotypes. Emmet was sometimes depicted in ways that suggested he had higher support needs but only when artists wanted him to be “cute”. If he was depicted (accurately) as someone with higher support needs, that would be one thing. Instead he was depicted as essentially neurotypical by an artist until they wanted him to be “cute”. Then it would switch to him appearing to have higher support needs, often accompanied by a tired or annoyed Ingo helping him. And ironically as identical twins, if Emmet is autistic, there’s almost no chance Ingo isn’t.

Back in the early 2010s along with these ableist depictions of Emmet, there was also a fair amount of art from people who decided he was somehow creepy and violent. Maybe it was the perpetual smile and his “odd way of talking” (which has been interpreted by many as him scripting), both of which can, and have been seen as autistic traits. It might have also been the idea that Emmet being “childlike and innocent” was a cover for something horrible. Whatever it was led to a lot of images of Emmet wielding weapons (most often giant scissors or a chainsaw) and splattered in blood. Sometimes Ingo got this treatment alongside Emmet, or else was depicted as one of Emmet’s victims (or his sole victim). This is also ableist and stigmatizing towards those with mental illness(es). While there has been a bit more acceptance in recent years, there are still attitudes that mental illnesses are “scary” and that people with them are dangerous, particularly ones with difficult to treat or misunderstood symptoms (despite research showing such people are more likely to be the victims of violence rather than the perpetrators). This art of Emmet as unhinged and violent contributed to the stigma many people face.

What does this have to do with art today, and PLA?

I don’t venture into the Submas tags much at all because I’m not a fan of the angst that seems to be a majority of the content right now, and I’m personally not really a fan of alternate universes/crossovers when it comes to them, and prefer to stay out of headcanon discussions. That being said, I’ve ended up seeing some things that are veering a bit too close for comfort to the problematic art of the 2010s. I’m seeing a lot of art of “unhinged” Emmet or “Emmet fights god” that comes too close, but there’s also ones where he’s still in Unova on the Subway, ready to snap or seeming to take his pain at Ingo’s disappearance out on anyone who happens to be the final straw. If you think that Ingo has been missing from Unova for some time rather than he arrives back at the exact moment he was taken from, then naturally Emmet is going to be experiencing some very strong, very negative emotions. But there’s an appropriate way to depict Emmet experiencing these things, and then there’s ways that go too far and end up being ableist and/or insensitive.

As a bit of a side note, I’ve also seen people tagging their art, posts, or even reblogged posts about Submas with things like “he is babey”. Ingo and Emmet are adult men. Tagging adults with this (and especially when done with real people rather than characters) is infantilizing and can come off as ableist, especially towards neurodivergent people who are often infantilized online and offline. I’ve also seen people delighting in the idea of Emmet being “deranged” or “unhinged” or “crazy” in their tags, which is another form of ableism, perpetrating stigma towards mental illness (specifically by romanticizing or even fetishizing it). The neurodivergent community, and people with mental illnesses are seeing these things, and for many of us, they hurt. Even if you yourself are part of these communities, just because it doesn’t bother you doesn’t mean other people can’t be bothered by it, and whatever your intentions are, often times these things perpetrate the stigma these communities are fighting to end.

Another thing I’ve noticed is Emmet is nearly exclusively being depicted as unhinged, which is reminiscent of early 2010s art depicting Ingo as the stable, “mature” one, and Emmet as unstable, a “perpetual child”, etc. When you consider that Emmet has more obvious autistic traits, this looks very ableist. I’ve seen interpretations of Ingo being “feral” as a result of him living in Hiusi (especially in art that depicts him living in the wild with Sneasler), but mostly these do not go as hard as people go in making Emmet unhinged, traumatized, and out for revenge. Then add in art where Emmet is mentally unwell and physically attacking Arceus or Volo, or taking his frustration disproportionally out on people and Pokemon around him, and it feels as though we’re coming full circle.

So are all depictions problematic?

Absolutely not! Obviously not every depiction of Submas as autistic or having a mental illness is ableist, stigmatizing, or offensive. If you’re basing your content off your own experiences, most likely it’s OK. What it really comes down to is why and how you’re depicting them this way.

Let’s say you depict Emmet needing help completing basic tasks. Is this about an actual headcanon you have? Have you researched this topic if it’s not based on your own experiences? Or is this about depicting Emmet as “cute” or “vulnerable”, and does Ingo also need help, or does this depiction serve simply to play up Ingo’s role as “responsible” or as a caretaker? Or are both of them in need of help from a third party simply to be “cute”?

Or let’s say you decide to make a comic in which Emmet has an unhinged villain arc. Is Emmet going too far just for the sake of making him look as unhinged or unwell as possible?

If your end goal is simply to use illness or disability to make characters look cute, to build up or contrast another character who interacts with them, or simply to fuel angst or a desire to see someone “lose it”, you probably need to examine your work and think about why you've chosen to use these things as plot devices, especially considering that this depiction can be harmful to neurodivergent and mentally ill people.

It’s important that you make sure your depiction of Submas (or any other characters for that matter) are NOT ableist or perpetrating stigma. My guess is the art from the 2010s was mostly unintentionally so; it’s likely the artists were just ignorant of the issues they were perpetrating, and some maybe just ran too wild with interpretations or jokes about Emmet being scary. It’s easy to get into a feedback loop when you have other fans and artists supporting a particular interpretation. After all, things the fandom widely accepts such as Emmet breeding Joltiks or stealing Ingo’s pudding started out as someone’s interpretation and others ran with it. It doesn’t take very long to Google information you would need to write or depict a convincing but not inappropriate or ableist depiction. You can find  sources covering the topics you want to write about or depict, including people’s personal accounts (just don’t use info from organizations that speak over and actually harm the people they claim to be “helping”). You can also ask people about their experiences, but just be aware that people are not obligated to tell you their personal information or educate you, so if someone declines you need respect that.

So what can be done if I see this happening?

Here are some suggestions on handling these things. This is by no means exhaustive.

I’ve seen someone make ableist or stigmatizing content. What do I do? Here’s a basic outline if you feel like contacting them, but remember, you don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable or safe. You’re not obligated to step in and educate others: 1. Be nice and polite. Coming off as reactionary is a good way to make someone defensive and not listen to you.

2. Avoid attacking them personally. Making mistakes does not mean someone themselves is ableist. As much as there has been more acceptance and education recently, there is still a long ways to go. There’s a chance they didn’t realize their content came off that way.

3. Explain why the depiction is problematic, and if possible, link to a source explaining it as well. Example: “Ingo drinking out of a mug that says ‘OCD should be CDO so the letters are in the correct order’ is an inaccurate and harmful joke about OCD. Here is a link to how the Just Right subset of OCD actually works, if you want to portray him having OCD more accurately.”

4. Avoid messaging them over and over, or having other people message them, making callout posts, etc.

 But what if they don’t think there’s a problem, get nasty, or continue with problematic depictions? Or what if they’ve already had others tell them about the problem and they have no intent to stop?

At this point, there isn’t much that can be done. It can be hard to accept someone doesn’t want to hear you out, understand there’s a problem, learn, or change what they’re doing, but sometimes it happens. The best option is to remove yourself from the situation, block them, and move on. If the content actually violates the terms of service of the site it’s being hosted on, you can report it. You can also report them if they start harassing you.

 I’ve read this or other people’s concerns and think I’ve made ableist or stigmatizing content, or someone told me I did, what should I do?

First of all, apologize. Hear the other person/people out if someone has contacted you.

See the full post

567 notes - Posted April 14, 2022

#2

Ingo smiles when you take photos with him!

He actually has two poses; one is the point and call pose, the other is this one, where he stands and smiles.

bl*nkshippers dni--I will block you

625 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I was battling Ingo the other night, and my roommate, @1863-project and I noticed something.

It was hard to get, because every time I ran over to Ingo and knocked out his Pokemon, the camera would shift back to show the Pokemon going back into its ball, so I had to stand at the other end. If you look closely, Ingo returns Tangrowth to the ball, puts the ball in his coat, goes back to his pose and looks to his left, and then it cuts to show him sending out Machamp.

My roommate says it looks like he’s checking in with someone who isn’t there.

In Multi Battles, given the poses, Emmet stands to Ingo’s left.

We know from Ingo’s own dialogue that he says things “without knowing where the words come from”, and obviously he never forgot any of the train stuff, including point and call, which he uses in battle. He might have muscle memory of turning to his left after one of his Pokemon has been knocked out to check his next move with Emmet. But maybe that’s reaching a bit. Something that seems more likely than a reference that subtle (besides buggy programming or him looking to his left representing getting the next Poke Ball out although both his hands are up in his usual pose), is that his character model and movements are a test for something else. There have been tests in Pokemon games before for things that were implemented later. Amity Square in D/P/Pt comes to mind, as it was a test area for having your Pokemon follow you in HGSS. It seems that the open-world features in PLA might have been a bit of a test for what’s to come in Gen 9. Seeing as Unova is up next for revisiting, it could be that Ingo was put in PLA as a hint at what’s to come, as well as a model test (and possibly a pun in Japanese).

So what is to come? Nothing is certain at this point. Seeing how BW and B2W2 are two different stories set two years apart, I’m not sure how they’d do remakes, since they’d have to remake four games at most, two games if they combined the exclusives between BW and B2W2 (such as Black City, White Forest, Route 4) into one game each. But they might find a way. There might also be a Unova game set around the time of but outside the events of BW and B2W2. Or another Legends of some kind. The inclusion and focus on Ingo in PLA is making me wonder if Submas would play a bigger role this time around. That would be great, so long as they don’t separate them or make them suffer any more ills on the scale of PLA. At the very least, the Battle Subway should be intact with both of them there, because given their popularity, omitting the Battle Subway entirely, or having only one of them there would be a very bad idea.

Here’s hoping they send Ingo home.

(I hope everyone enjoyed my Gastrodon’s victory cries and cackling)

bl*nkshippers dni--I will block you.

827 notes - Posted March 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary33

10/7-8/2023

fixed one song so far today, i'll see where i end up at the end of this thought.

yesterday i was really taken by hosono's video game music record, i did not realize he wasn't the original composer, which makes me feel way dumb but also, someone had to make those sounds, their genius doesn't go away only one facet of my waxing poetic or whatever is founded wrongfully, that's fine.

anyways, i felt like i had to acknowledge that, admitting when i'm wrong feels important, even when it's just to myself, or especially, and righting some wrong, even if it's like, nothing, and like, nerd stuff. it means something to me, there's some discomfort in my heart now evaporating cuz of that.

anyways i read a book today, derek mccormack's dark rides, it's about a young gay guy sort of incapable of acknowledging what he wants/ where he's at making that impossible. it's a fast moving thing, 108 pages and every passage is short, it's a very tiny book, but it wraps you up with its speed, and the leanness of the description, very little is in image, instead the endless telling of things happening to someone, streaming through life, and stuff. i think it's really lovely, how it works, it at times does kind of explode into vividness, the images typically thin and associative, intentionally so, begin to get colored in, and then cut short.

for instance:

i love this part so much, i love this whole story in the book, about a girl who begins making homemade fireworks because of a job she starts, and he gets involved too.

another great chunk of the book.

i don't have as much to say about what it says entirely because 1) i don't know much about this writer, what drummed up my curiosity (again) is my friend becoming curious, because people both of us enjoy really like his book castle faggot, and we want to know what that's about, dennis cooper loves it, for instance, but my curiosity re that had died because a friend read some of his other stories, and they were i don't know, kind of bad, but now maybe there's some kind of in with his work, i dunno. a lot of the stuff here about repressed perversity, curiosity regarding the perverse and in youth playing with it, really resonates, the constant pull towards the abject while stuck in the "regular" world. and 2) it's still pretty fresh in my head and this book really doesn't have any intellectual obsession it feels like (to say it doesn't actually would be a different matter, i think every book does essentially), hopefully the book will stick in my head, and it will uncover itself to me, or i will uncover it, and be compelled to return by some measure. this is why discovering a new writer is exciting, a whole world of ideas/ways of seeing to absorb, thinking about the book as concerned largely with seeing/observation seems prudent, actually, not that this is special to this book in particular but he seems very concerned observing and all the things you see when you're positioned a certain way. constantly outside everything, even the regular heterosexual relationships tried here, everyone doesn't seem alien, they all do come off though, painfully wounded and sad, everything moves too quickly for anything to settle, you don't know anyone, you flit from scene to scene and relationship to relationship, all the substance there is in what you ignore, so the writing works this out not by hiding it in the minimalism, but using the minimalism to exhume the faint imprints left on you, and when the minimalism fails, it blossoms into the portrait of the things that shock you back into yourself, from the dissociation, thinking here about this portion of the book about electroshock, which oscillates between the 'therapy' which grows worse and more torturous, and the escapism the character engages in by going to a planetarium, and it ends on this:

anyways, i'm excited to read more from him, though i worry this is his one great work, castle faggot seems a little juvenile in comparison, but who knows, i don't, certainly, it sucks i wrote him off because a friend read a bad book of his, because he at least has one great one.

i also wrote a little today, but i'd soon like to stop doing tiny things and make one bigger jump to finish one of these sections and get nearer to like, its actual end. anyhow, that is at least progressing and growing more full, which feels important to me.

what i notice more, as i look at the book, is how powerfully it deploys the poetic, similar to how dennis cooper does it though still different, cooper is much less dry/tense, instead with him it is a case of, i'm not sure of the word here, in the depths of alienation and distance, a discovery of passion/heat and the clumsiness of that passion/excitement, thinking here of the passage in frisk where a boy is described as a polaroid taken of fire, if i recall correctly.

thinking now that i ought to read anais nin, i've meant to for years and never have, spurred on by a friend's consistent love of her diaries being mentioned, plus just always wanting more writing "like that" and like that meaning, i don't know, it's a whole thing though. i've decided on "collages" by here. i dunno why. it's not a typical start i guess, but it's something no one really mentions, and it seems interesting.

the other day in the shower i was thinking quite a bit about maurice blanchot, and how i think it might behoove me to re-read thomas the obscure, at some point, it's an insanely dense book, i love it and i think i got a lot from it, but it feels like it has so much more to give, and it took 3 nights last i read it.

anyways, looking at the songs i have now, and stuff, i really want these more hardcore songs to be brighter/noisier, i'm getting there, i think as i continue replacing the tones, the better off i'll be, and i'll be able to figure out how to get exactly what i want, or like, just basically what i want. i also think some of the lack of sharpness can come down to the bass still being a touch too prominent in these songs, i think in some cases even i can drop by 3 dbs and that'll really help me out.

my decision to just do songs and move onto others, and then come back after a while, seems beneficial, cuz it means i'm not getting obsessed on fine details and i let myself forget what's going on, so w/ fresh ears i can see what's good/what isn't.

anyways look at this insert art for this album i like, these arms are snakes - easter.

and this too, i really like this cover also. my mind just wandered to cover art, and stuff i'm trying to consciously absorb, i guess.

i've now fallen into a hole reading about angura plays and posters, maybe i'll talk more about it tomorrow, however i guess one thing is it's shocking to me how this stuff still has a presence, like in radical kinds of art it never died, for instance:

this poster says, across the top:

"theater, don't die!! we need you!!"

this kind of directly speaking to the text, from another text that is related, and the kind of aggressive pose it takes with the audience, not necessarily about hate but certainly related to critique, and the typography, brings some really obvious stuff to mind, i hate being like "it's like eva" but the similarities are there, the exact ways of hashing out frustrations with the general public (there that huge mass) in such forward facing ways, seems something inherited. this is from 1979! another thing is, looking at these posters and reading about the ethos of these plays and their oppositions in the 60s, read:

and so here we have an explicit attempt at furthering radical art, being more communist (i think) that seeks to use the perverse/grotesque/primitive to embrace all of reality (#so #me). obviously there's lots of ways this can trail off into something reactionary (see above the treatment of the general public, the total frustration/lashing out while maybe in some ways understandable sees the turn from proletarian art to a relation where they need to be told (this apparently comes as the rise of pure consumerism/entertainment arises and the avant garde begins getting ignored more (reminds me of the country teasers lyric: you only mock the avant garde because it's a little too hard (ugly but maybe true sometimes (only sometimes (when it's the beautiful avant garde that loves things and stuff)))))

before i go onto another interesting relation, i just wanna note the obv similarities this has (noted in the book but i thought this before it was mentioned) to tatsumi hijikata's butoh dance, i highly rec/love his essay "to prison"

another crazy recognition in all of this, is strangely enough killer7, which rather strangely comes off as a very explicit effort to update this kind of art/these ideals/this ethos, and the exact underpinnings and goals, to enmesh the primitive with the 60s radicalist art with the newly developed world of digital media, with anime, to have this slurry that communicates in the same fevered ways that these plays operate.

anyways, that's probably enough kunst und kultur for the night. also i read a tiny chunk of anais nin's collages, great as expected, sad i put her off for so long, i feel that she will sit beside clarice lispector for me. interesting that the two are immigrants.

so, byebye!!

[nuatthebeach]

omg otp asks okay: 1, 13, 17, 20, 27, & 51

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you’?

Harry to be honest. I can see this being his reasoning every time he works overtime or does anything with the intention of protecting her and his family. “I’m doing this for our family, to make the world a safer place for them. Because I love you! And I love them!” Also this dude is mega dramatic for literally anything. Whether Ginny would accept that as a valid reason to end an argument is another question entirely 🤔 . Either way, there’s always a part of her that tingles every time she hears it.

13. Who’s the bigger tease?

Intentionally, Ginny. She’d corner him when he’s either really busy doing work at home or even at the Burrow, Ministry meetings, or even at mundane places like the grocery store. She’d flip her hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck, or start touching the pads of her fingers on his bicep, or lean on his side, or stare at him with the classic blazing look. Harry would pretend to ignore it but there’s no mistaking his rising blush - and when he grows older - his foot and fingers from tapping restlessly before he gives in and pushes her against the wall in some lonely corridor (just like old times) where he can really give all his attention to her, not that she didn’t have it already.

Unintentionally, Harry. He’d offer to read the book she’s reading (“you’re laughing so much, it can’t be that funny” but they both know he wants to just laugh with her), or compliment her flying skills, or gush at her witty commentary in the Prophet, or suggest he watch the kids while she goes for some much needed girl time - in which case, Ginny decides everything else can fucking wait because this hunk of a man is actually with her forever and ever and ever, and she proceeds to blow his effing mind (amongst other things) once more.

17. Who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?

Both do it a lot tbh, but the person who does it the most is Harry. As much of a rep Gin gets for being impulsive, when it comes to random kisses Harry takes the lead. In his eyes, she’s just so cute and small but also she’s this ball of energy and light, and when he looks upon her as she’s hexing yet another person who lowkey (high key) deserved it, he thinks back to the war and his suffering and all he can come to terms with is yes. It was worth it. She will always be. And then, boom. He snogs the angst away, and she lets him.

20. Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

SJLAKSJSLAKSLDKAL IT IS TIME FOLKS, I HAVE OFFICIALLY COME BACK FULL CIRCLE.

Long story short (another amazing Taylor Swift song that encompasses Hinny btw), the answer would have to be Daylight by Taylor Swift. I talk about it in my very first post on tumblr here and it’s the title to my short story compilation on ao3 here.

Need convincing? Just look at these bomb lyrics that my girl TS dropped.

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in

Everyone looked worse in the light

There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight.

I honestly have a whole Taylor Swift Hinny playlist that I’d be glad to share if anyone wants it.

27. Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party?

Sigh. Ginny, poor thing. As a shorty myself, I figure she wouldn’t get past much. But Harry finds it cute when she drinks and she’s always doing really silly things like dancing on top of tables and making really brazen innuendos that make him grin as much as he blushes. She’d probably hit him teasingly for being a “typical noble male git” if he told her this, but he really really really enjoys taking care of her afterward, lying her down and giving her water and massaging her sore feet (because dancing is exhausting, people!) and pampering her in ways she’d roll her eyes at if she was sober.

51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?

At first, my answer was going to be in very practical ways like doing each other’s dishes without asking for it/not their day to do it, or Harry killing the cockroach in the corner of the room without teasing her even the tiniest bit because dammit Ron may be scared of spiders but Ginny is absolutely terrified of those disgusting shitters (“Did you know cockroaches have evolved the least out of all bugs?” “Yes, Gin, you say this every single time.”)

But then I remember HBP and the intimate way they’d interact, so I actually do think they keep anniversary dates in mind (nothing too big but appreciative enough - and they definitely like experiences/traveling more than fancy dinners). And I think the way they laugh and touch each other and run fingers through the other’s hair and give massages are all very intimate expressions indeed.

Especially laughter. When Ginny makes a joke and Harry laughs, that validation is like he’s telling her he loves her 3245 times and she absolutely gushes over it.

And when Harry catches Ginny’s mischievous eyes every time someone says an inappropriate joke, he finds himself physically pressing his palm to the core of his chest from the way his heart violently wants to leap out of it.

[stellocchia]

Okay, holy crap did we get an interesting stream yesterday! Time for an analysis of it!

So, there is a lot of confusion surrounding the stream and, more importantly, c!Wilbur himself. So I wanted to try and interpret this whole thing at the best of my abilities for my own sanity.

Before that though there are a few things we have to keep in mind: 

For something to be manipulation there needs to be intent on the side of the manipulator, which can be quite hard to establish in some cases

A lot of c!Wilbur’s confusing thoughts and constantly fluctuating opinions come from a general lack of knowledge, his own faulty worldview and his incredible overestimation of his own impact in the world, which I’ll talk about more later, more so then what actually would appear to be an intentionally manipulative behaviour

One more thing to point out is that Wilbur sees his life as a spectacle. To him reaching his “desired conclusion” the first time was a victory and he seems to have started on a sort of scripted “redemption arc”, and I mean scripted within the narrative not meta wise, (in which he’s trying to drag Tommy into as well) after he had his self-proclaimed “villain arc” in Pogtopia, however this view is faulty at best...

We also have to keep in mind that c!Wilbur is truly a relict from the past at this point. He places an incredible amount of value on “factions” and “leadership” and has a very black and white world view, but things have changed a lot since he was around and they’re much more complicated then that now which leaves him with a complete lack of understanding for the world around him and possibly with no tools to correct that lack of understanding

And for last, let’s keep in mind that Wilbur is an INCREDIBLY UNRELIABLE narrator. We cannot trust everything that comes out of his mouth so let’s not take everything blindly as fact

Also, while all I’ve just said is true Tommy is still 100% entitled to not trust him at all and to not be sympathetic towards him, even without considering this stream (and trust me: I’ll get to that one) because their history together is not great. Keep in mind that they were basically alone during Pogtopia and that Wilbur always sorta grouped himself and Tommy together (as in Wilbur considered BOTH of them to be “the bad guys” and BOTH of them to be bad for the server and better off dead) and he was always extremely manipulative in the ways that he used to try and get Tommy to believe his world view as well (and he seemed to adopt a similar behaviour in the stream, but I’ll get to that one later). Sadly that also means that Tommy isn’t a reliable narrator at all for what concerns Wilbur...

Okay, now with all the introduction out of the way the proper analisys will be under the cut! Be advised that it’ll treat some very heavy topics (like abuse, manipulation etc) so, you know, keep that in mind.

The stream I’ll be using for this one is: Meet the latest resurrected gentleman of L'manburg, though I may take some things from: Wilbur Is Revived.

The stream starts with Tommy and Wilbur meating up on the glass covering the L’Manburg crater. Right after we have a bit of banter with Wilbur openly mocking Ghostbur, ignoring Tommy’s discomfort at the subject, like always. I wanna say it right now that the dismissal of whatever Tommy is feeling and whatever he says that does not align with Wilbur’s idea of Tommy is not something new. It’s a behaviour Wilbur developed all throughout the Pogtopia times. He may look like he listens to Tommy a bit more during this stream, but he never takes into account anything he says and constantly dismisses anything he feels, so we know that’s not true. Of course, Wilbur is not the only person who exibited this behaviour (Tommy often gets dismissed when he speaks and if re-watching exile taught me anything is that Dream was also very keen on dismissing all of his emotions). 

Also one of the first things Wilbur asks about is his Chekhov's gun, which Tommy moves on from quickly without answering (propably because it got destroyed by Dream while Tommy had it). 

“Hey pu- Hey! Put Friend down!” “Wh-why? He’s gonna come with us!” “I don’t want you... no he could die!” “And? It’s a sheep Tommy, who cares about-” “Calm down man! I know- I know that you have the power of eternity over him, but just put him down!” “No! I’m just saying: who cares about a sheep man? It’s just a sheep. Just come...” “Oh I fucking...” “What?! It’s just a sheep my man!”

Once again dismissal of Tommy’s emotions, but also an introduction to the theme of attachments that seems like will be important once again. This time the conflict that’s introduced surrounding attachments is not about their intrinsic value (like it was in season 2) but it seems to be that of attachments vs ideals. In this case what we’re presented with is seemingly a detachment from Wilbur (though we can’t say if it’s volountary, like in Dream’s case, or just an effect of his depression yet). 

“Tommy... I’m sorry” “Wait what are you- are you gonna kill me?” “No no sorry” “You’re gonna wack me?” “Ignore the Lore Sword, I’m- I don’t- I’m not good at this man. I need to make some apologies. I told you I needed to have a think and I don’t think an apology would ever sum up... uh... what I did here. I mean look at this mess!” *looking at the crater of L’Manburg* “You did this! Well, not all of it, you did a little bit” “Yeah... I didn’t do the glass. But like I think- I think that I do need to, I need to apologize to some people! You know, I’m gonna- I’m gonna make amends!”

Okay, there are a lot of things to unpack here:

1) Tommy’s immediate reaction to Wilbur apparently softening up while holding a sword is to expect to be hit, probably because of residual trauma from exile where Dream would act in a similar manner

2) Wilbur seems to recognise that he needs to apologize to people, but he doesn’t actually seem to regret anything or doesn’t understand WHAT he needs to apologize for (which is the reason why he only apologizes to people he hasn’t hurt, didn’t know or doesn’t particularly care about). He doesn’t apologize to Tommy for example, his “I’m sorry” at the beginning isn’t directed at Tommy as much as it’s a general statement (this could have something to do with him lumping himself and Tommy together as the bad guys of course). Also, remember that idea about Wilbur seeing his life as a show? Well, he did the villain arc so the only 2 possible ways to go after that are a repeat or a redemtion arc... this is him starting in on the second, while not actually believing in it

3) We already see Wilbur giving himself more importance then he actually did have. Tommy explains that he’s only resposible for a small part of the crater, but Wilbur doesn’t know that Techno, Phil and Dream did exactly what he did but bigger later on and assumes that all of it was done by him (probably making him think that he’s had a decidedly bigger impact then he actually did)

“Well I’m in my forties now Tommy, I counted the years man... how old are you now? You must be what, like, 20? 30?” (Wilbur does not seem to be aware of the time dilatation that occurs in Limbo)

It’s also interesting that Wilbur asks Tommy of all people to give him a tour. I mean, the two were close before and Tommy is the only one who stayed by his side through everything, but Tommy already expressed multiple times a dislike for Wilbur even directly stating to his face in the revival stream that Wilbur should have stayed dead. My best guess is that what brought him to ask Tommy specifically despite that was a mix of being still in a similar mindset to Pogtopia where it was the two of them vs everyone else, Wilbur’s paranoia not having disappeared meaning he doesn’t trust anyone else and a sort of dependency Wilbur has developed on Tommy to avoid loneliness.

“No no! Will, you didn’t get a grave. This is just what you left behind” (destruction and a betrayal of trust are the only remains of who Wilbur used to be it seems)

“Here’s the thing Tommy: I know I was bad and I know I can- I know I can redeem myself but you know there’s- there’s a little bit of fun in being bad, you know, I mean, we’ve spoken about this” (callback to “let’s be the bad guys” and further confirmation that Wilbur isn’t truly interested in redemption as he still sees himself in the role of the villain)

The first person that Wilbur apologizes to is Skeppy who fits the category of “person he more or less knew, but never actually wronged”, meaning that one is a useless apology (and Wilbur seems to recognize that when he asks Skeppy to say one thing he did to him). (Also rip Friend Skeppy doesn’t deserve rights anymore).

“He was Ghostbur’s man! And I wish you’d stop disrespecting him” (technically about Friend but more broadly about Ghostbur as well)

“You see I’ve always seen myself as a bit of an iconoclast so I don’t think I’ll be getting involved in the whoel deity section” (Wilbur is canonically an atheist)

The second person Wilbur apologizes to is Jack Manifold, which is also when Wilbur starts excluding Tommy any time there is someone else there as well. Jack honestly fits in the category of people “Wilbur knew but didn’t really care about”, which is why his apology ends up being quite generic and not very accurate to the historical happenings. He apologized for leaving him behind when he got exiled but, once again, that never actually happened. Jack stayed back of his own volition there. He apologized for not granting Manifold Land independence, which would have been up to Dream. He apologizes for leading him into war which he simply never did, because Jack joined after. All this apologies are what Jack wants to hear, but none of them are true to what happened.

Either way, Tommy brings Wilbur to the roof of the hotel and they have quite the important conversation there. Tommy tries to tell Wilbur about when he decided to go see Dream for the last time, but Wilbur entirely dismisses him.

“I know you’ve had your little strife man” “But I died!” “But I don’t- I don’t care” (full dismissal)

They then end up talking about exile (Wilbur specifically is the one to bring it up).

“Tommy, I’ll tell you what, if I was there and it wasn’t that stupid shell of a ghost instead of me I would have struck down Dream right where he stood. We would have disemboweled him. We would have disemboweled him” “You would have killed Dream?” “Together” “Well Tubbo is the one who sent me off... You would have killed Dream?” “Tommy- Tommy! I wasn’t blind, I saw what he was doing to you Tommy... I saw. I saw what he was doing to Tubbo” “I don’t like thinking about it” “I saw what he did to me”

So talks about Tommy’s exile are always something... Tommy still shows clear hesitance in blaming Dream even after all this time and even more hesitance at the idea of someone killing Dream at the time (probably because he still subconciously bleieves that he was his only friend back then). 

Then there is Wilbur who has admitted to know about Dream’s abuse of Tommy and his manipulation of Tubbo and himself (though to which extent for any of these is unclear) and he seems of the idea that: 1) if he was alive he would have been allowed to go with Tommy, which he wouldn’t have and 2) that if he was there they’d have killed Dream. Though he changes his narrative on the second point right after it’s intersting that he thinks he would have been allowed with Tommy because if he was as aware of the situation as he seems to think he is he’d know that Dream “exiled” Tommy specifically to have him alone and vulnerable where he could mold him as he pleased. It wasn’t a political stance like their previous exile, it was a glorified kidnapping.

“After seeing Ghostbur interact with Dream I realized that, no, Dream is not the enemy, Dream is not the enemy” “He-” “This world was not supposed to be inhabited by people of this caliber. Dream is the hero! Dream needs to be let out of here. Dream’s not in prison because he’s a horrible person, Dream’s in there because he dared to try and stop you all. He dared to try and stop you all from gaining all this power because the minute I was gone there was a vacuum, there was opening and everyone just slicked to get in there and Dream was the only one who stood up to them and told them not to. Dream is the one that held my seat for me”

Again, a few things to unpack here:

1) Wilbur somehow fails to see the contraddiction in his own reasoning. “I know Dream abused you, but he is not being imprison because he is a bad person, he was only doing what is necessary” was what his speach boiled down to which is just bullshit plain and simple. But why does Wilbur get to this conclusion? Well because he has faulty information at best to fill in the blanks from the time he was dead and he has a very simplistic worldview where everything must fit neatly into a small little narrative and where people are either “villains” or “heroes” and since Wilbur thinks of himself as a villain and thinks he corrupted anything he came in contact with it makes sense that he would see Dream, someone who opposed everything and everyone previously associated with Wilbur, as the “hero”.

2) We have Wilbur, once again, giving himself more importance then he did have. Wilbur didn’t leave a power vacuum, L’Manburg was rebuilt pretty quickly and all Wilbur left behind was a bit more trauma and, even then, people have done worse since. Wilbur was, in fact, pretty irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Once his story was over people moved on one way or the other and Wilbur simply cannot accept that because he sees himself as a protagonist, but he simply wasn’t around for a long time. 

(Also I really wanna punch him in the face for this one because f*ck him for calling Tommy’s abuser a “hero” to his face, that’s a HUGE d*ck move)

“If Dream died instead of me, I would be in there right now” (again, fundamental misunderstanding of why Dream’s in prison in the first place)

“I didn’t actually really care about L’Manburg, I just cared about, you know, sticking it to the man. Actually I cared about L’Manburg for the sole reason that I could use it to stick it to the man! You ever sticked it to the man Tommy?” “That’s not true” “L’Manburg was a tool, it was a great tool, it worked! You know? It divided so many people man”

Listen, we can debate all day wether Wilbur actually cared about L’Manburg beyond seeing as a tool to achieve his ends or not, but that’s not really important. The important thing to take away from this is that Tommy, Tubbo, Niki, Fundy, Eret and Quackity believed in L’Manburg. They believed in it enough to fight for it. Others as well. So whatever the answer to “did Wilbur care?” is, their experiences are not invalidated because of it. The other thing is that the whole conversation about L’Manburg fully establishes the theme of ideals vs attachment that may be explored more in the future.

“I’m sorry for a lot of things but, Tommy that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try again” (and here it is. Wilbur shows Tommy the most awful side of him that hasn’t changed all the while pretending to be a completely new man in front of others so they won’t believe Tommy if he tells them. This one is full on manipulation)

“I did care about L’Manburg. I did, I did, but if L’Manburg- a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet, L’Manburg would have still been as loved by me if it was called Bim Bum and it was in the middle of the desert” (once again reiterating that it wasn’t about material attchment, but more so about the purpouse of L’Manburg)

“Stick it to the man Tommy! High five” “No! You just said that you loved 'The Man'” (Tommy pointing out the contraddioctions in Wilbur’s reasoning)

“It was like we were a family, you can’t just say that!” “We were a family Tommy. We were. And you know what I guess you just didn’t- I guess you just didn’t have the balls to follow along with me. When I pressed the button you were always against it-” “You blew up our fucking home!” “We’re leaving it behind Tommy, it’s in the past. We’re friends now, we’re friends”

So, two things here: Wilbur seems to resent Tommy partially for not enabling his destructive tendencies seeing Tommy opposing him destroying L’Manburg as him leaving Wilbur behind. And also Wilbur is, once again, dismissing Tommy’s rightful anger, this time in a way that is very reminiscent of Dream (reinforcing the idea of them being “friends” despite having done something that hurt Tommy a lot).

“You’re following me for quite a while for someone who doesn’t care” “*deep sigh* Where are we going next?” (while Tommy is aware that being with Wilbur is not good for him he also seems to not want to leave him either)

“You know I often give him a lot of shit and pretend I don’t like him, because he has a peculiar relationship with Tubbo, but he is a very good man and I stuck up for him because I see potential in him, alright?” “Yeah? What is he, a strong fighter?” “Yeah, well he is- he is a very strong fighter, he stuck by my side, he visited me in exile, he is a good man and he’s helped me”

It’s interesting to see how their opinions diverge. To Wilbur “strenght” is physical strenght and strong ideals. He respects Tommy to a degree because Tommy is not afraid to stand up for what he believes in for example. For Tommy “strenght” is compassion and loyalty. Tommy considers Ranboo strong because he has the strenght to remain kind in a world like theirs where kindness usually doesn’t take you far. And this is the main reason why Wilbur and Ranboo clash, why they are narrative foils: because Ranboo is extremely well loved and secured himself a relatively peaceful life by going against everything that Wilbur believes in. Ranboo is respected and loved where someone like Dream who, to Wilbur, embodies the ideal of strenght is widely hated and he doesn’t understand why because he’s missing so much information.

Third and final person Wilbur apologizes to is Ranboo who falls into the category of “Wilbur didn’t know him”, meaning the apology is, once again, just performative so that Wilbur can move along his perceived “redemtion arc”. During the whole chat with Ranboo Wilbur, once again, mostly pushes Tommy’s presence to the side in favour of the new person, though Ranboo does actually notice Tommy’s constant worry and tension and reassures him multiple times that everything’s fine.

“Everyone I seem to meet seems to have this deep intrinsic feeling of disgust towards me” (no one actually does, this is just Wilbur’s self deprecation talking. Like, Tommy is the only one who has expressed anger towards him so far and he’s still sticking to Wilbur and trying to talk to him)

“Tommy is very suspicious of me because of who I WAS” (this is, once again, manipulation. Trivializing Tommy’s fear and suspicions in front of others while reinforcing them when they’re alone is a way to isolate him from an eventual support system)

“It was big, it was big effects though right? I mean... let’s be honest here” (Wilbur once again overestimating his impact. He did have a lasting effect on people, but nowhere near as he seems to think)

“Tommy I don’t know who you’re tryng to protect here, me or Ranboo” “Ranboo” (yes yes, Allium Duo moment, but also Wilbur seems sort of jealous of the relationship Ranboo and Tommy have and how obvious it is where Tommy’s loyalty lies now)

“You get into people’s heads Wilbur, alright? You’re like a little caterpillar, you go in through their ear, then you hatch a butterfly, before you know it your brain is all colors and flying...” (Tommy lacking proper terminology to describe Wilbur’s manipulation, but still doing a wonderful job at it)

Wilbur spends quite a while interrogating Ranboo on his beliefs and getting progressively more confused about why people (and Tommy especially as he specifies later) love him so much as Ranboo explains his “pick people not sides” philosophy. He seems particularly annoyed by Ranboo soley defining Dream as “bad”, possibly because in the world view he crafted for himself everyone is so extremely divided and he can’t imagine the existence of someone who tries to actively defy that by trying to side with everyone who hasn’t directly harmed his loved ones or himself. At first Wilbur thinks Ranboo must have some ulterior motive for being kind to everyone and is even more shocked at finding out that that’s not the case.

“There’s been more wars while I’ve been dead then when I was alive Ranboo, that’s- that’s a-” “There’s actually been only one and ever since you died and Dream’s been put in prison the server’s actually been peaceful” “So you’re saying that you don’t like me? In the same way you don’t like Dream you’re against me then?” “I- no! No no no, I don’t not like you Wilbur, I don’t like the person that you were. I’m willing- I’m willing to like you now, if you’ve changed”

And here we have Ranboo standing against Wilbur quite directly. Wilbur seems convinced that, because Ranboo doesn’t dislike most people he stands for nothing which, admittedly, Ranboo is quite hypocritical and weak willed, but he is showing the sort of strenght Tommy admires him for here. Ranboo dislikes who Wilbur used to be because he hurt his family, but he is willing to give him a second chance, which is more then even Wilbur ever did for himself. Also, to be fair, once Dream was locked up the server did become more peaceful and there were less wars. Ranboo was right when pointing that one out and the fact that Wilbur doesn’t seem to know it points to his lack of knowledge that he doesn’t seem willing to fix.

It’s also interesting that Wilbur seems to conclude all this meetings in a hurry by asking Tommy to go on with the tour and basically pulling him along... even if it’s pretty clear by now that Tommy isn’t really needed there. Wilbur remembers how to navigate the server without Tommy thanks to Ghostbur’s memories and he ignores Tommy’s presence whenever someone else is near. The only reason why he is pulling him along is because he can and because he uses him to vent and say all the things he lies to others about... so much for his “no lying” oath...

“He’s a follower Tommy! You’re not a follower man! You stand up for yourself, you fight for what you believe in” (reiteration of Wilbur’s idea of strenght which alsoseems connected to worth for him. For him being a “follower” is inherently negative)

“Tommy he felt like the polar opposite of me” (in case we needed more reasons to consider them foils)

Wilbur and Tommy have a fight right after because Tommy’s upset at Wilbur being an ass to Ranboo and completely ignoring him and about his presence just in general. Wilbur is the one insisting for the fight to be physical in a scene that mirrors the Pogtopia pit scene quite a lot while Tommy would have been contented (and would have actually preferred) with Wilbur admitting to his faults. But so far Wilbur hasn’t apologized for his more grave faults even once and he has yet to apologize to Tommy for anything at all and I honestly doubt he intends to at the moment or that he even feel remorseful for anything... they fight and Tommy wins and takes Wilbur’s sword to avoid a repeat of the situation.

“Look at me. No matter what happens, no matter what goes down, today, tomorrow, next week, the week after, the week after next, the fact that I’m alive means that anything that happens along this line I’ve won. I’ve already won. I won when I pressed that button. You can spar me however many times you want for your own personal victories, but, in the grand scheme of things, I’ve already won. And I think, from your silence, you know that”

This brings us back to Wilbur seeing his life as a show and himself as both the protagonist of the story and the villain. The button scene was the ending of his story and he managed to complete it with what he considers his own victory. Of course it’s also a way to put down Tommy in a similar way to how the “you’re never gonna be president” speach worked. Tommy didn’t want to spar with Wilbur in the first place, but he did win. Tommy didn’t want to be president either because, despite Wilbur being convinced that he has his same idea of power, Tommy is quite content to live a simple life with none of the responsabilities that come from having power. In both cases though, Wilbur takes the chance to use the aspiration of the image of Tommy he’s painted in his mind against the real one, by saying thet it’ll be impossible for him to accomplish what he thinks he wants. Doesn’t work anymore though, Tommy immediately called him out on his bullshit even if he was ignored again. Also what’s with Wilbur and constantly asking Tommy to look at him? Is he afraid to disappear if Tommy’s not looking or something?

“You just stick with me man, stick with me. Stick with the winning side. Stick with the side that stands for something, stick with the side that believes in something” (it’s also interesting to note that Wilbur seems to constantly see his life as a conflict adn, right now, he appears to think that it’s him and Tommy vs the world, similarly to how Dream started thinking in prison)

“I thought he had infinite canon lives” (Wilbur seems to have held at least some of Ghostburs naivete it seems)

“Honestly I wasn’t expecting you to have your shit together like this man, I thought you just came on to kill me” (once again Wilbur thinking he’s the center of the world apparently)

“Thank you for that [killing him] by the way. No no seriously, thank you for that! Because if you hadn’t done that I’d ended up living- I would have been exiled with Tommyinnit and then I would have gotten angry at Dream because Dream can’t go around hurting Tommy like that. I would’ve been angry at Dream. I would have tried to fight Dream, which now I see would’ve been a silly move because Dream’s my hero! Dream’s amazing! So I would’ve ended up fighting Dream and then I would’ve been the one in prison and not Dream”

I was kinda surprised that he said all of this to Phil, but I guess he may remember Phil siding with Dream for Doomsday perhaps, so he thinks he can get understanding on all the Dream stuff. He also prefaced this by bringing up something that Phil still feels immensely guilty about meaning he was more prone to listen. Also, again he seems to have a fundamental misunderstanding of what exile was about or why Dream is in prison in the first place but, aside from that, his opinion on Dream just seems to genuinely fluctuate between despising him for hurting Tommy and considering him a hero because he brought him back to life and because he covers the role of the misunderstood underdog who’s trying to do what’s right in the version of the story that he created in his mind. 

“Well yes, but I wouldn’t have stood for Dream’s shit while Tubbo, well Tubbo did stand for it” (see what I mean? Fluctuating opinions. Pretty sure not even he himself is entirely sure of what he feels or think in this regard)

“Oh, Will?” “Yeah?” “I forgot to mention by the way. I, at one point, griefed George’s house with Ranboo and that caused to a chian of events that lead- that- that was kind of why I got exiled more so...” “Okay and Ranboo managed to not get exiled with you?” “Oh no, it was just me” “That’s pretty uh-” “But I stood up for Ranboo. I made sure he didn’t because he was so new and he was, you know, he was-” “Ah, so you got thrown under the bus. Did he not stand up for you? Did he not offer to go with you?” “No he did stand up for me but to, like, to an extent because he didn’t wanna get exiled and that’s fair” “okay... I’m Sure I’ll Get On With Him!”

Wilbur’s obvious distaste for Ranboo shining through again. Also he was pocking in the right direction, but, sadly, Tommy is not the right person to ask this questions to because he fully believes that he deserved what happened to him still, so he won’t be able to explain that the reson why Ranboo wasn’t exiled was because Dream didn’t care about him and the exile was just about gettng him alone. I don’t think anyone aside from Dream has clocked that in quite yet as a matter of fact. Also this conversation has just proven further to Wilbur that Ranboo is the pushover he though he was after all.

After that Wilbur explains to Phil that the reason he lied was because he didn’t want to let him down. He also tries to convince Phil that he doesn’t lie anymore and that he didn’t lie much in the first place, only to address Tommy and go:

“Old Wilbur did a lot of lying Tommy, old Wilbur did a lot of lying”

“Wait did you say there was a counselor on this server that we could talk to?” (Tommy yet again being the only f*cker in the server that genuinely wants to go to therapy)

Also Phil trusts people way too easily. He just confronted Wilbur about lying in his letters for a long time only to turn around and immediately trust him that he is a changed man, even after Wilbur said straight to his face that Dream is his hero. Like... he is supposed to have lived a long ass time, how did he stay this naive?

Will also mentions that he has plans and intends to have both Phil and Tommy in on them as soon as they’re ready. He also proceeds to make it sound like the only reason why Tommy is upset with him and doesn’t trust him is because he was a bit mean to Ranboo which is him, once again, trivializing Tommy’s fears in front of others so that they are less likely to take him seriously in the future. He then asks for a bed and shower which Phil provides. One other thing to note is that Wilbur seems extremely reluctant any time that it comes to going underground, probably due to trauma from living in a ravine in Pogtopia.

“Do you trust me? Do you believe that I’m turning a new leaf Tommy?” (this is not the first time this stream that Wilbur seems to seek out Tommy’s approval and it’s interesting that he doesn’t seem to do it with anyone else)

Once again Wilbur interrupts the visit in a hurry as soon as Tommy tries to explain his side of the story to Phil telling Tommy repedly to go with him. This really seems to be a pattern since it happened every single time, and I’m guessing that the reason is that, once he has given his pieace, leaving Tommy to speak may be detrimental to the manipulation in the long run. 

“Be nice Tommy, okay? Be nice” “Phil, you murdered him” (Lmao)

“Tommy you’re missing the sunrise! You’re missing the sunrise” (for the sun as a symbol enthusiasts)

The two of them then have a very weird argument about stone that it’s literally just textbook manipulation in action right there. At first Wilbur asks for stone then, after Tommy complains a bit, he concedes and switches to cobblestone just to then comment on the fact that stone looks better, but he’s graciously letting Tommy having a say in it. He then expresses that his request is for Tommy to get “all the stone” but making sure that he doesn’t believe that Tommy will be able to do that. Multiple times in fact. He then tells him to get it with Phil because Phil would be able to do so, unlike him. And all of this is just to split up from him in a way that’ll have Tommy still be too busy to explain to anyone about Wilbur. 

“He’s a good kid, he’s a good kid. I’ll be back on the saddle soon... I mean it’s only a matter of times I’ve done it once I’ll do it again” (I do think that Wilbur does care for Tommy a bit, I’m fairly sure about that, but their relationship really sin’t healthy. Also we’re back with Wilbur immediately assuming the role of “protagonist” in his “story” once more)

“Why does everyone like that Ranboo guy? I don’t understand...” (once again, incapacity to understand someone who is so diametrically opposed to him)

“I’m done apologizing” (he didn’t even start. Not in a way that mattered and not to the people who needed it most)

“I don’t know how I was revived” (Wilbur canonically does not know about the revive book)

Wilbur’s stream ends with him checking out Quackity’s book and Wilbur making a whole speach confirming that his idea of power is tied to physical strenght and feeling self assured in the fact that he was “right all along”. Tommy’s stream however was not over yet. 

“I don’t want to try and save the server, I don’t have that in me”

“We need to get the stone... and then we need to stop Will and he hopefully won’t destroy the server” (Tommy being dragged back in the role of the hero kicking and screaming)

“When we did L’Manburg I was a strong guy, a character that could go around and now it feels different. I feel thinner. I feel... don’t have a choice. I don’t have a choice” (once more he lacks the proper words to describe trauma, but he still does a great job of it. He also feels once again like this role was put on him and he has no choice but to oblige)

Tommy later talks about how he won't let anyone put him "through that shit" (manipulation) but that he’ll still get the stone because it would be nice to have Wiilbur be impressed with him. Which is just a great way to let us know that Wilbur's tactic has indeed worked. 

And this is pretty much it!

[jackassbroadcast]

Hello im a Tommy enthusiast who watched that one stream where he monologued to foolish for like hafe an hour bc i heard it was a cool stream or wtv to realize how much amazing character moments it had that barly anyone in this damn fandom is talking about so ill fucking do it

(Only after finishing this i realized i wrote 1.7k words LOL OOPS)

If u dont know what in talking about its this stream (apologies for linking a clips channel the actual vod on foolish's channel is deleted by now)

Also heads up /rp /dsmp every time i refer to someone here by name is their character unless stated otherwise bc writing c! Before every name Is tiring LOL

Also // suicidal idealization , death mentions

The conversation starts off with foolish and tommy mining for Wilbur, and foolish questions how simply mining will solve the problem to which Tommy reponds with "they dont get solved, do they? It just ends uo with some madman screaming 'Hes solved it!' And now look at him." And how he wants to "prevent the problem before it goes outta hand" something that clearly references Wilbur and his destruction of lmanburg, which paired with him collecting stone for Wilbur as the way to stop said problems he believes if he does anything he can for Wilbur and support him by his side enough this time around, that he wont do anything like thay again, which as im writing this makes be realize by doing that we learn hes blaming himself for what happened to Wilbur in November 16th and pogtopia and a whole, by not being enough for Wilbur in his mind.

The conversation continues, foolish off hand asks why would tommy want to stop Wilbur? Weren't they friends at some point? To which tommy leads foolish to lmanburg and tells him the story of the nation (how it was him and Wilbur's nation, how they made it to espace dream's iron fist and how they held an election "which puts your life on the line, which is good- if you're confident but- perhaps we were too confident", how they lost)

Tommy: "You know the phrase: 'treat other how you wanna be treated', foolish? People dont ever listen to it. Wilbur- he decided he wanted to be treated poorly so he treated everyone around him poorly "

This Tommy quote, to me at least, so so amazingly strong in conveying how understanding he is? To the world around him. Like-

I have not seen one person bring this quote up, and yet its (at least to me) shows such growth and understanding in Tommy i saw little to nothing like it in other streams. It shows he understands, he knew Wilbur didnt change just because, he knows he was struggling, that he thought everyone around him were againt him, were going to abandon him the first chance theyll get- and he thought he deserved it. So he, as a last way to defend himself against that, hurt them first, abandoned them first, so theyll see how much of a 'bad' person he was and take him out- and tommy saw right through that, possibly understanding it more after exile.

This next qoute was talked about much more but i still wanna bring it up

Foolish: "Do you believe in second chances?"

Tommy: "Oh, no I don't really believe that its not really a thing for me foolish its just that-" *sigh* "- i believe everyone has a little bit of good in then and this is not about giving him a second chance or a third chance- its not about *chances* foolish. Its about not giving up on the poeple you care about. "

Which. I mean. I dont know how healthy that mindset is, but comign from Tommy it makes so much sense.

Techno, tubbo, eret, sapnap. These are all people Tommy used to be extremely close to, had either a war or had been betrayed by them, and yet still found it in his heart that he still cares for them, with all of these, they did horrendous things, that hurt tommy physically and mentally, while also not being once or twice, but a contentious thing, but while tommy is to this day still effected by their actions he still found it in himself to forgive, because he knows he fucked up too, a lot, and he knoes they learned from their mistakes just as he had (except c!techno FUCKKK c!techno mf doesnt learn SHITTT) and he knows, when the time comes he knows hed want the people he hurt to forgive him too. (And he wants Wilbur to do the same)

Next qoute i will cut to a couple parts because its really so good and full of character i had to bro

Foolish: "Do you consider yourself to be the good guy or the bad guy?"

Tommy: "It really depends who you ask, isn't it? Yknow? If you asked dream he'd say im *his little toy that he plays with* you know? It doesnt.."

This part really stunned me when i first heard it because, and correct me If im wrong, but i dont think tommy ever acknowledged how dream sees him, and  how right he has his viewpoint too. Just the fact tommy is so *painfully* aware of how dream doesnt even see him as a person anymore but just a toy to mess around with for a while than just throw it away when it get too boring really hurt me. Someone give this kid a hug

(Continued) Tommy: "...foolish, honestly? I used to consider myself 'the good guy', you know? The fuckin'- second in command! But these past- these past like six months or so, foolish, everything got so much harder than it was before. Because before it was just us vs bad guys, it was all so clear! But- its not been 'clear' for so long, right? It wasn't; 'these are the bad guys! These are the good guys!' Now it's : 'he's doing this and it makes him a bit worse-' i mean, it all got so complicated, so- i don't know. Depends who you ask."

He says this, in response to foolish asking if hes a good guy- but its awfully similar to if Wilbur asked him if they were the bad guys. Because foolish just asked about him, and yet in his answer tommy made sure to keep using the words "us, he's, guys" as if hes not really talking about himself, as if hes explaining how Wilbur was wrong. Which he was. Also something interesting ive noticed, he says "the last 6 months or so", which indicated that with Wilbur he knew better to follow his word and leadership- with Wilbur he was always on the right side but when he lost him he felt much more lost alone, and couldn't trust himself enough to be on the "right side" .

Foolish: "I dont know, it all seems strange because just from, you know- hearing from others and, you know, learing a little bit, its seems like you've been the hero, you've been the villain, the conqueror, the savior, and, even now, i have no idea what you exactly are."

Tommy: "that's up to you to decide, isn't it? Im just- *uh*  i dont know. These days, foolish, I'm a little weaker than i used to be"

Foolish couldn't be more right with what he said, another example of this we see where a character acknowledges tommy never sticks to one thing us Charlie when calling him "tommy fron nowhere" which shows more how he cant stick to one thing, during the course of him on the server he had been friends and enemy with nearly everyone, been on pretty much all sides, and while never really intentionally, being in the center of conflict. When foolish says he doesnt know who tommy is anymroe at this point and all Tommy says in return is that "hes a little weaker than he used to be" does to show he misses who he used to be, with lmanburg, with Wilbur, when he knew who he was, now he doesn't know who he is anymore, but still so desperately want to be more demonstrated by the lines coming rigth after that one:

(Continued) Tommy: "..I'm not- I'm now who i want to be, but-"

Foolish: "Being honest with you, Tommy, that's the same case for me as well."

Tommy: "...heres the thing, foolish, unlike you i dont really have a choice. I have to try and be who i want to be, because if i dont, very bad things are gonna happen in this server. And now that Wilbur's back i can't- quite frankly *no one* can risk that. So i dont really have a choice."

Tommy want's to change- he wants to be better than he is now, to be closer to who he used to be, no matter how impossible that might be, but he also sees it as an immediate thing, he wants to change now, or asap, which is why hes collecting stone for Wilbur in the first place- old him would've done that with ease just because Wilbur asked and he wants to have that back so badly, asap. The way he talked about this reminded me of when he tried getting over his trauma stream before he went in the prison to kill dream: he knew he wasnt the best but he tried getting over that asap to go kill dream asap. He didnt wanna take the long road of years of healing and instead thought he could get over it just like that, and that experience clearly didnt teach him anything because now hes trying to slide back to the relationship he and Wilbur used to have and ignoring the drastic changes they both had plus the bad moments that were the reason they feel out in the first place, or maybe he knows, but at this point, after everything that happened to him and the server, he doesnt care anymore? He knows hes not the same he was and he'll never be the same, because thats not how it works, but his mentor, president, big brother is back after so long tommy felt so lost and alone he thinks maybe, this time around, with Wilbur, he could try and be better again.

[brokenbutnotquiting]

Say My Name

A Nace Oneshot where Nancy *really* loves the way Ace calls her name. (Because Alex Saxon makes it sound so damn enticing that I couldn't help myself)

I had always liked my name. Nancy Drew. Not so much Drew anymore, but it sounds better than Nancy Hudson. Or maybe that was just my habits talking.

In any case, I like my name. Nancy.

With the ever-growing confusion regarding my last name, it suited me better to opt for – what I call – the Ace option. Just casually dropping my last name until and unless it's an official or legal requirement.

For the very common folk of Horseshoe Bay, I am Nancy.

Just Nancy.

It was only after I realized and accepted my intense feelings for my best male friend – my partner-in-investigative-work – Ace, I often found my heart skipping a beat at my own name.

Purely because of the way he called it. Nancy. With that adorable lilt at the second 'n'. He probably never even realized that he did it, which made it all the more enticing.

But I would never tell him that.

__________

I ignored the screaming soles of my feet as I locked up the Claw. It was date night for George and Nick, and despite my best hopes, I was the one left in charge of closing up the seafood restaurant.

How had I ended up here tonight, I wondered sarcastically before a face flashed in my mind.

Ace.

How was it that most of my stupid impulsive decisions nowadays were because of him? 

He had opted to lock up for the night, claiming to be happy to do it only if George allowed Amanda to stay with him.

"We haven't seen each other much since we returned from our road trip, and she has been asking me if we could just talk for a while without either of us running off for something or the other," he had said with a shrug.

Now, normally I am not a goody-two-shoes. Or a masochist. But seeing Ace with that utterly adorable little pout made my heart melt, and I jumped in to sacrifice my sanity to let him leave early. To be with his girlfriend, no less. 

What can I say? Sometimes, I am just that much of an idiot.

Bess had side-eyed me so hard when I chimed in, I wondered how transparent I had become regarding my feelings for Ace. How did no one else notice?

But then, maybe everybody had noticed it at some point in time and had chosen not to comment on it.

Everybody except Ace. A sigh heaved out of me at that particular thought.

Ace was blissfully unaware. And thank God for that. I didn't need him to hate me for ruining his chances with Amanda. As much as I had rolled my eyes at his dopey smile that first time he had accepted his crush on her—almost endangering George in the process—I did want him to be happy, even if it wasn't with me.

Even if watching him fall for her tore my heart out every time, I thought about it.

Even if I was wrecking myself over him. Every. Damn. Day.

I looked around aimlessly. I only had to mop the floors one last time, and then I could leave. So I got the mop and the bucket— put on some music, and let my mind daydream about a life where I wasn't the girl one-sidedly crushing on her best friend as I let my body move on autopilot.

I didn't even realize that I wasn't alone until I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise, pulling me out of the daydream just before I got kissed.

I whirled around towards the door leading to the locker room to find him standing there.

Ace.

He looked angry. Really angry. 

"Ace? What are you doing here? What's wrong?" I asked worriedly. Was someone in danger? Was there an accident or something?

"What's wrong is that I cannot fucking stop thinking about you," he snapped, his soft blue eyes flashing with barely concealed anger.

"What – what are you on about?" I stuttered with surprise.

His nostrils flared delicately. "There I was, with my girlfriend, finally spending some much-needed time together, and my mind kept reminding me that she is not you. That you are you. And that you are here. And I was so distracted by the thought of you being here alone with no one to protect you, should something happen, that I completely missed her telling me that she loved me."

He strode over to where I was standing, grasping onto the mop as if my life depended on it. The weight of his words, the complete and utter disaster of it all hit me at the same time he stopped barely half a foot away.

"Ace— ” I started and stopped. What was I supposed to say? Was there anything I could say that would help? Anything at all? It didn't seem so.

"There she was, looking all hopeful as she told me she loved me, and all I could think of was whether you were safe. Whether I would see you tomorrow." His voice held an undercurrent of fear. And I understood that.

After the Aglaeca and the Wraith and Everett Hudson and the threat of the Road Back still lingering, all of us felt overprotective of each other.

"I am not a marshmallow, Ace. I can take care of myself. At the very least, not drop dead while locking up the Claw," I joked half-heartedly. I admit that I might have intentionally ignored the part where he said he barely paid attention to his girlfriend. Or how my heart skipped several beats at it. I didn't need him more antagonized over my feelings for him.

"That's not the point, and you know it," he snapped. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, before he continued, "my girlfriend told me she loved me, and not only was I distracted enough to miss it, I couldn't even say it back."

He shook his head, eyes still closed, as if he could somehow forget everything that happened. I understood that feeling as well. Sometimes, I wished the same.

"Why?"I asked him softly because I knew that was the part he wanted me to stress on. I knew him well enough to know his cues. I could play along.

He opened his eyes at my question.

"Because, as much as I like Amanda, I don't love her. At least not as she wanted me to. I tried, God knows I tried so damn hard, but I just couldn't," he explained.

I didn't ask him the question on the tip of my tongue again. I merely kept staring at him. Ace knew my cues as well as I did his. If he wanted me to play along, he could as well.

Why? 

"She broke up with me, rightly so. She deserves someone who isn't already in love with someone else," he whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the music, "what kind of a pathetic person does that?"

Even then, my heart beating fast enough to rival that of a marathon runner, I stayed silent.

"Nancy." He whispered almost pleading, for what I didn't know.

"I love the way you say my name, "I whispered back as if in a thrall. Completely inappropriate? Perhaps. But a kernel of truth nonetheless.

He raised his hands, cupping my face so softly as if afraid that I would break under his touch. He touched his forehead to mine, his eyes closed again.

A slight tremble shook me at his touch. His breath ghosted over my face. "Say my name again," I whispered to him.

"Nancy."

He shifted his face a tiny bit and kissed my cheek. I closed my eyes at the onslaught of feelings his adoration elicited.

"Nancy," he whispered before kissing my other cheek.

"Nancy."

A kiss on my chin.

"Nancy."

A kiss on my forehead.

"Nancy." 

A kiss on my brows.

"Nancy."

A kiss on one eye, and then the other.

"Nancy." 

A kiss on my nose.

"Nancy," his voice took on an almost worshipping quality as he whispered my name but didn't lower his mouth to mine.

Tell him, I chided myself. Tell him that he isn't wrong in his feelings for you. Tell him that if he felt condemned about his feelings for you, then you shared the damnation with him.

"I love you, Ace," I said, tears escaping me, my throat raw with emotion, "I have loved you for a while now." 

There was so much I wanted to tell him and couldn't. So much he needed to know. Another day, I reasoned with myself. I would tell him another day when we were both far more clear-headed than we were at the moment.

"I know, Nancy," he said softly, nodding his head, "I love you too."

And then he closed the gap between us.

His lips were soft against mine. Unhurried. Moving with a languid assurance that he knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to claim it any longer. I played along with him, slow and steady, our form of normalcy until the heat growing in my body took over.

The kiss turned frantic as soon as I bit on his lower lip. His tongue was in my mouth, claiming me. He wanted everything, and I wanted to give it all to him. My tongue followed his, teasing him to a sensual dance of their own.

His hands, which were previously cupping my face, slid lower until one of them was grasping onto my neck – positioning my head as he wanted – the other grabbing onto my waist, pulling my body closer to his.

I let go of the mop, and it fell on the floor with a clang. I placed my hands on his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady, if not galloping at a faster pace, under my fingertips. I moved my hands on his body, feeling his muscles flex subtly until one of my hands took a life of its own and decidedly wandered over to his hair, tugging on it as if he could come closer than he already was.

I don't particularly know how long we stayed like that, devouring each other like the last meal, but when we did eventually come up for air, I knew I wouldn't be able to let him go, and I told him as such.

His chuckle was like music to me. I opened my eyes just in time to see his smirk, "after a kiss like that, I should hope not, Nancy."

"Jesus Christ, Ace," I swore, "the way you say my name is my favorite thing."

His used laugh vibrated through me at that, warming my core but you know what? I didn't care.

"That's all?" Ace asked me playfully. No more stoicism. It was almost as if he had pulled back another layer of his surprisingly dazzling personality. I smiled at him in answer.

His answering grin almost knocked me right out. Damn! I really did love this man.

I didn't know what my face showed him, but the grin dropped off his face as he asked, "what's wrong?"

Ah. I must have been emoting the pent-up sadness I had repressed for so long.

I shook my head at him, smiling again. I combed through his hair with my fingers and let all of my affection pour into my voice as I said, "I didn't think I would ever get to do this again."

"Touch my hair?" Ace asked amused, quirking an eyebrow.

"Just be with you. Touch you without having to worry about offending anyone," I explained.

He placed a soft kiss on my forehead, pulling me into a hug, "You never really had any sense of personal space when it came to being near me, Nancy. That was just so you, I never really questioned it further. I was so scared of you putting up defenses against me that I purposefully ignored all the signs. Even when they were glaringly obvious." 

He kissed my cheek and said, "I shouldn't have tried as hard as I did to deny my feelings creeping up on me for over a month. And I definitely shouldn't have chosen the easier way out with Amanda."

I shook my head at that. "You did what you thought was right for you," I said, somewhat sadly, "I remember your smile. You told us that she made you bloom."

"She did. For a while."He said. There was a trace of sadness in his voice. It would take time, I knew, for him to stop blaming himself for everything that happened with her.

"Take your time before you move on, Ace. Both of you deserve that respect," I told him.

"I will," he said, a small smile gracing his lips again, "but not tonight." I nodded my acceptance of his decision. Whatever he needed.

"Nancy," he whispered my name in my ear a heartbeat later.

The groan that escaped me was obscene, and I rightfully snapped, "Stop saying my name like that, Ace, if you want to keep your clothes on."

His answering kiss made my blood heat up and my toes curl in my shoes in an instant. I kissed him back with equal fervor. His hands started roaming, and I gasped into his mouth as he cupped my ass. He chuckled in response. A challenge.

Very well, I thought to myself. I dropped my mouth, kissing his neck softly before biting on it. An obscene groan escaped him. I smirked.

Two can play this game, Ace. And I barely got started.

I licked the spot I had bitten.

"I won't be able to even see straight if you keep doing this," his warning rang. I ignored the moan accompanying the statement.

I took half a step away from him and said playfully, "You need some space, Ace?"

"Nancy," he almost growled before yanking my body flush against his again and dropping a searing kiss on my lips.

Dear God, in the heavens above! I loved the way he said my name.

Nancy.

[more-than-a-gentleman]

Daily life...

Valentine Special... (not really special, just wanted a chance to have a “special” post😂)

What I find really fascinating is how a lot of people don’t realize (or should I say intentionally ignore) Sanji’s impact and his influence on Nami’s life. Oda has already given us more than enough moments for us to notice just how crucial of a role Sanji plays for Nami’s happiness.

Allow me to show you what I mean....

*I am going to use One Piece Omake (Extras) again for this one. Simply because that was a direct way Oda mentions this topic.... he literally made an extra talking about the strawhat’s lives “before Sanji joined”

But of course, like always, I will be using moments straight from the manga.

First, Nami sailing with Luffy, Zoro and Ussop:

Now, as pirates it is only expected to face hardship and struggles in regards to extreme weather conditions, waves, attacks from Marines, Pirates or maybe Sea Kings so I will only focus on daily life-simple-kinda stuff (but unnecessary trouble caused by others during the struggle counts)

As we can see, she was having a really hard time managing everything she could. She had to navigate, draw maps, cook and was in charge of managing storage conditions. Basically, she was stressed.

But, with the introduction of Sanji, all of the sudden life is much easier and more relaxing for her specifically. Now people might say: “the more people join the easier life would become for everybody, that doesnt mean anything”. Well... life did become easier when Robin joined since she thought two steps ahead, right? Chopper did make life easier by having a doctor available constantly. Franky did make life easier with the functions in the Sunny. So yea life is much easier... but what does that have to do with Navigating and her dream? Sanji’s role directly affected Nami’s life in three major ways:

Made it easier for her to focus on navigating and doing her job.

Gave her way more free time for her to draw her maps the way she wanted to.

He is also considerate of storage, malnutrition and the crew’s money & budget

Yes, I agree... Robin, Chopper and Franky did make life easier for sure. I can’t possibly deny that in the slightest, if I did then I am just simple-minded and I am forcing myself to read my own version of One Piece and I will never do that. But...

You also can not deny what Sanji has offered Nami specifically since the day he joined. He took soo much off of her shoulders (on top of appointing himself as her servant willingly), unlike for example Franky who made life much easier for Ussop.

Now after the time-skip, there are three instances where the crew was not full, and Nami set sail: Twice with Sanji on board, and Once without him on board:

1) Nami with Sanji on board:

Seems to be smooth sailing... no troubles whatsoever. Like I said before, I will focus only on simple stuff, no attacks, unnecessary stuff simultaneously occurring on top of extreme weather conditions can be included because simply more trouble to keep in mind.

She can focus solely on Navigating, no one causing her issues... ALL CLEAR✅

Nami without Sanji on board:

I bet she forgot the good ol’ days of sailing with Luffy, Zoro and Ussop😅. It has been a really long time since we have seen her this stressed setting sail...

This here is Oda hammering home the impact of Sanji’s presence on the ship. Nami is having the worst time sailing ever. Read every dialogue carefully... it is all referencing most of Sanji’s influence on the ship.

Plus: I will mention this moment again

I talked about storage before didn’t I? This is another example of normal members of the crew stocking up on food supplies, but management is also another factor that plays a big role.

Plus, one quick thing... Sanji always begged Nami for a “Refrigerator with a lock” to avoid anyone (mainly Luffy) from stealing food. Of course the Sunny has one, but that is proof that Sanji was serious despite how he used to act😂

“You are all useless” (in other translations she says “for crying out loud, your skillset is so one dimensional”) let me talk about the other two first... I’ll come back to this later.

“Just watch the waves for me”. So when she is unavailable to navigate due to circumstances, she needs someone to do it for her. We have seen before how Zoro failed miserably while Nami was sick, but then Sanji was the only one doing it AND doing it right.

Going back to the summer heat biome... in Punk Hazard, we saw exactly what Sanji would’ve done in that situation. I don’t even need to speculate, Oda already showed us that.

Nami with Sanji back on board:

As we saw when they entered Totto Land range, they started to encounter hardships right? Well, when they left there seems to be no issues whatsoever. Back to smooth sailing, Nami was relaxed, happy and no problems at all✅. (this is a good chance to address the fact that the people who believe that Nami hates Sanji because how he “always” acts during hard times.... well I am sorry to tell you that you are completely and utterly wrong)

Now... going back to “You are all useless” or “one dimensional skillset” why did I leave it at first? I want to share an observation I came to:

Leaving Dressrosa to Zou: Nami Sanji Chopper Brook (+Momonosuke Ceasar Clown) ✅ -> All clear!

Leaving Zou to WCI: Nami Luffy Chopper Brook (+Pedro Carrot Pekoms) ❌ -> Stress

Leaving WCI to Wano: Nami Sanji Luffy Chopper Brook (+Carrot) ✅ All clear?...🧐🧐

Do you see what I am getting at? What Nami said basically confirms the notion that Sanji alone is too god damn useful in her eyes it wasn’t even close... him alone is enough to change the entire voyage

Personally, I just can’t see a future where Sanji has to live away from Nami, since she has been an essential part, a piece, of his character since the very beginning.

And for Nami, as you can see... why in hell would she do that to herself??

Sanji alone made Nami’s adventure move way smoother than it would have been without him or if his personality was different (aka if he was not in love with her). She knows that and she doesnt need to show it for us to realize that.

I hope all you couples out there have a happy and joyful Valentine! Too bad Sanji and Nami (mainly Sanji😂) can’t celebrate that cuz they are too busy with a war right now😅.

[adonis-koo]

to the moon and back

Summary: Sometimes the distance in relationships really does make a strain and sometimes...it can really make quite the experience, at least in your experience with your boyfriend who only lives half way across the world...

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader, theres like,,,implied Taehyung/Reader if you really squint

Genre: angst, smut,

Word Count: 6.4k

Tags: long distance relationship that I accidentally projected way too much of my own personal experience into 😃, Jungkook just really loves MC, skype sex, I am sorry, mutual masturbation, a little praise kink, Jungkook says baby in korean a lot and once again I am sorry, sex toys, a lil overstim, nothing too crazy tbh, dirty talk, dom!jungkook and sub!MC 🤑

Note: I missed ldr!Jungkook and MC which is based off this sorta imagine I did for them! So I cured it by writing a lil bit about them!! :)

“Hey Jungkook…” 

The said man in question suddenly perked up from where he had been looking down, half his hair tied up and he was rubbing his eyes, he looked tired these days and sometimes you couldn’t help but feel bad. Long distance relationships weren’t always what they were cracked up to be and it wasn’t like you were intentionally looking for a ball and chain at the time...

But well, it was a long night, you were slightly drunk and in a long dry spell so you thought, what the hell? When you signed up for a sub/dom dating website. Again, your intentions weren’t to actually date someone, you were just slightly drunk and horny, and waking up the morning after your phone had been blown up by your now boyfriend. It was innocent at first, you both had a good laugh (to somewhat of your embarrassment) about the whole drunk thing and you were just curious to get to know him. 

It was from there you had learned he lived halfway across the planet in South Korea and not only this but when you began exchanging photos he was by far the most beautiful man you had ever seen. One thing led to another and eventually you both decided to make it official. 

You were used to this of course, you had never actually met him in person and sometimes you felt a little apprehensive to do so, you knew it would hurt Jungkook severely if he ever found out but still...sometimes it felt like you just didn’t know him as much as you wanted too. 

Time zones were a literal hell, by the time you woke up he was getting ready to sleep and most the time texts weren’t sent until the next day, video calls were rare and usually had to wait until the weekend. It sucked. 

Jungkook, if anything, had been trying to convince you to at least fly out to see him, he even offered to pay for your ticket as he was- ahem- apparently in the chain of business for a really well known exports corporation and was a supervisor so he lived very well off in comparison to yourself, who was still in college and buried in debt with little to no money left outside of the expenses of living. 

But again, you were just...nervous...flying by yourself, to a country you had never been too, to meet a man you had never met...You knew realistically everything would be fine, Jungkook was exactly who he said he was, he wasn’t some criminal that was going to murder you and sell your body parts on the black market but…! You just wanted to be safe! To be careful even if that would never happen. 

“Hm?” Jungkook hummed, it was a late saturday night for him but he always stayed up just for you, just to be able to talk to you, to see your face, even if you went hours not talking to one another while he worked and you studied. He told you he just enjoyed looking over at his monitor and seeing you.

Currently you had been curled up on your pillow scrolling on your phone and occasionally admiring your boyfriend’s side profile and strands of hair long hair that fell from his face, “Why did you learn English?”

Jungkook raised his brow a little before suddenly laughing causing you to shift a little in embarrassment feeling as though you had said something dumb, “Well,” He rasped a little, he had been brushing up on his english ever since you started dating but he was also a little self conscious of his accent despite you saying several times over how much you adored it, “English is mandatory to learn in school but I learned extensively due to my family traveling a lot for business and work. I once spent a whole year in New York when my father was employed overseas, that was actually how I became so fluent, classes are fine but experience always teaches best in my opinion....” Jungkook’s lips curled into a smile as he hummed once more, “Which means your studies in Korean would be easier if you visited…” 

Flustered you rolled onto your back as you pressed your pillow against your face, “Jungkook…!” You whined wiggling in your best as you heard his laugh filter through the speaker, “I need you know I really need to stay and study for my finals, it makes up for over forty percent of my grade!” 

“Not even for winter break?” Jungkook let his lips jut into a pout as he laid his chin against his hand, “Jagi I have a bed that’s way too big to sleep in all by myself, are you gonna make me downgrade?” He sighed dramatically as he fell back in his computer chair pulling his hair tie out as his hair fell at his cheeks as he began to fix it. 

You ignored the heat immediately flushing between your legs at the deep rasp of his voice, “My mom’s expecting me to come home to visit for the holidays Koo…” You frowned as you peeped out from behind your pillow to find the massive pout on your boyfriend's face as he sunk in his seat. 

“Sometimes I think you’re just embarrassed to tell people we’re in a relationship,” Jungkook mumbled as he sat up in his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he sulked, obviously trying not to let your rejection make him upset but even through a screen you could always read his moods, sometimes too easily. 

“That is not true!” Your voice was immediately serious as you sat up, fixing your laptop as you set it in front of you, Jungkook was once more slouched in his seat, his hand resting on his cheek as he looked away from the screen, “That is not true Jungkook, I-...” You sighed, “I can’t just drop all my responsibilities here to visit you, you know this, you know hard I’ve been studying for finals and how much my family has been wanting to see me…” 

Jungkook didn’t reply for a moment but you could’ve sworn you heard something akin to a scoff escape his lips, “But you still haven’t told your family...have you?” 

“I haven’t had the chance…” You were immediately trying to defend your reasoning when deep down you felt bad that well...he was right...to a degree, but what were you supposed to tell you family? You met your boyfriend on an offshoot website based around sexual play and not only this but he lived half way around the world. 

“You talk to your mom on the phone weekly Y/n,” The longer Jungkook looked away from the screen the more upset he was getting and you could tell and yet you felt so helpless, it wasn’t like you could just reach over and grab his face, or simply hug him and apologize. Once again, you found yourself at a loss of what to do or say. 

It wasn’t that you wished you hadn’t met Jungkook, you’d never in your life change that night, but sometimes you wished things weren’t so complicated and that your fears wouldn’t get the best of you. And you did speak some truth, even if you weren’t nervous to meet Jungkook in person, it didn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t be able to go now with finals approaching and your family expecting you for the holidays.

“I’m just,” Jungkook inhaled sharply before letting out a sigh, “I just feel so frustrated sometimes, I want to be with you, not part time, half time, or only at night. I want to wake up with you in my arms every single day. And I can’t do that, hell I can’t even get a phone call during the week let alone a text at the same time of day if I’m lucky. We just had a work party where everyone brought their partners and I couldn’t bring mine because she lives in America.” 

His upset was beginning to make you upset, it felt like your gut was being grinded and it wrenched in an unpleasant feeling as you spoke, “Look I’m sorry okay? I can’t help it that this is where I live, I understand you want to be with me, you don’t think I want the same thing?” You put your hand on your chest, trying to keep your voice level as you swallowed harshly, “But right now, I can’t help it Jungkook. The holidays just aren’t a good time right now…” 

“Then what was the excuse during the end of the summer when you weren’t even in school and your parents didn’t want to see you?” Jungkook replied, his jaw clenched and hurt in his eyes as he questioned you, “Or was it still because you were sick in the middle of july?” 

“I just met you!” You cried out now beginning to feel genuinely hurt at your boyfriend questioning the sincerity of your feelings, “I wasn’t going to fly out to Korea to meet someone I had only been talking to for three weeks! Jungkook this is-” 

“I’m not embarrassed to be with you! God, that is literally the last thing on my mind right now! I’m embarrassed at the way we met, I’m embarrassed that I- I somehow have to explain to my family that my boyfriend lives in South Korea and that I’ve never met him and somehow explain to them that you aren’t some serial rapist or human trafficker out to sell my kidney! Because that’s exactly what I’m going to hear! And I’m sorry I just haven’t been ready to deal with that!” You couldn’t even stop the tears from flowing down your face as you pressed your hands to your eyes, “It’s easy for you to talk about us because you’re an adult who lives debt free by himself in his own apartment with your own secure job and you don’t have to answer or deal with anyone, even your own parents! That’s not how it is for me Jungkook.” 

Your head was lowered as you tried to muffle your sobs that was the only thing that filled the loud silence that filtered the air, running your hands through your hair as you took a breath. You could hear a sigh on the other side before Jungkook spoke, “Y/n…” 

“You know what,” You sniffled as you straightened up, “I’m not in the mood to talk anymore,” 

“Y/n! No! Jagi listen-” 

“No I’m done!” You argued back as you wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoody, “I don’t want to talk to you right now. Goodnight.” You clicked the end call button before closing down your laptop. Sitting now, staring at your distinct reflection on the black screen before bursting into a new set of tears. 

Your phone’s ringtone was immediately set off as you sobbed, picking it up as you harshly punched the decline call button before it quickly popped back up on the screen only for you to press it even more vehemently. Your phone lit up several times being flooded with messages from Jungkook trying to convince you to talk to him but you immediately turned off your phone as you collapsed back against your bed, weeping against your pillow as you tried to ignore the pure hurt that filtered your veins despite it being justified. 

God you shouldn’t have even said any of that to Jungkook! Really it was your fault you hadn’t seen him, you had made excuses all because you were just scared. He was probably going to break up with you now...Squeezing your pillow tight you closed your eyes as you muffled your sobs. 

“Girl why are you staring at your phone?” Lisa sighed in exasperation, “Don’t tell me…Oh shit…” She sighed as she watched your eyes begin to pitfully water, “What was it this time?” 

“I’m a horrible person be-because I can’t just fucking suck it up and tell my family about my boyfriend and- and I can’t just go visit him!” You were already wiping your eyes despite not even crying yet and you refused to ruin your mascara in a public store. The bookstore was quiet as ever and the barista who worked the cafe was still sorting magazines out on the rack not even paying attention to you both but still you had to keep up your ideals or else you’d be crying all the time. 

“You are not a horrible person oh my god!” Lisa raised her brows before scoffing, she pointed a long acrylic nail at you as she spoke, “That boy needs to calm his hormones, you are strapped for the rest of the holidays. Y/n! Come on, seriously you need to draw some boundaries with him! Just be honest and it’s going to save you both a lot of trouble.” 

You sunk in your seat as your lips began to tremble making Lisa sigh, “How many messages did he send this time?” 

“Twenty four.” You mumbled. 

“Jesus Christ.” Lisa groaned as she pressed her hand against her forehead, her bangs which had been melded together with hairspray not even moving an inch, “What even started this fight!?” 

Lisa was not only your closest friend but most times she was also your voice of reason which you knew was most times right but still you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as you twirled your straw that poked through the lid of your iced coffee, “Well it was innocent at first, I just asked him why he learned English when he was younger and it translated into him saying experience taught him best which meant going to Korea would help me with my own language studies.” 

“Why can’t you just be honest with him!? Seriously! Y/n!” She gave you her premium disappointed look as you whined, kicking your feet as you covered your hands over your face knowing she was right, but!

“That would literally crush him!” You replied feeling defeated as you slumped in your seat once more, sighing as sadness filled you, “It feels like…” You poked your tongue into your cheek as you exhaled in frustration, “No matter how hard I try, I just always end up hurting him. Jungkook would be so hurt if he knew my main reason for not wanting to see him.” 

Lisa raised her brows as she scoffed, “No he would not! If he’s so desperate to jump on your pussy he’ll come to America and not only meet you but he’ll be meeting me as well the first time. This relationship is a two way street Y/n-” 

“He has a whole team he’s managing Lisa, he’s told me he’d visit if he could schedule the time off but-” 

“All I hear is an excuse,” Lisa clacked her tongue, “Fair is fair, you’re just being cautious as anyone should be when they’re talking to someone over the internet,” She curved a brow before snorting as she sipped her drink, “Now listen, do I think he’s a kidnapper that’s gonna kill you? No. Do I think he’s a fuckboy that just really wants to smash you? Maybe, it’s your relationship. Do what you want but regardless of whether your reasoning is legit he should respect it regardless.” 

You deflated as you sighed, scrolling through his messages where he had profusely apologized several times and went on to explain that he just really wanted to be with you and never meant to dismiss your feelings on the matter. You hadn’t replied yet which made you feel even worse but truthfully, you just really wanted to talk to see him tonight on a video call and talk things over. 

“Anyways, it’s time to boss up bitch,” Lisa pulled out the three textbooks from her bag before dropping them on the table as she offered a smile, “We got finals to prep for, we’re in the two week countdown so we need to cram as much as possible.” 

Sighing you glanced down at your phone one last time before turning it off knowing the temptation to look over Jungkook’s messages would be too tempting. Putting your phone away you pulled out your notebook along with your own textbooks as you nodded, “You’re right, it’ll at least take my mind off of it…” 

You could only hope. 

You had spent the last ten minutes trying to gas yourself up, Jungkook had stopped texting around lunch time having obviously given up and giving you space as this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened and he knew if he just gave you time you’d eventually reach out to him. 

Like right now, except you felt severely embarrassed for your actions this morning and you knew you could have handled things in a better and more mature way then you had, regardless you were struggling to even send a text at the moment let alone video call him...Checking the clock on your phone you sighed, it was already 1pm in Seoul....

Jungkook if anything was probably on his computer sulking while playing video games as he usually did on his weekends off when he wasn’t talking to you. Sucking in a breath you knew you needed to talk to him now because if you didn’t you’d have to go the whole week with stale texts that never went over well and you weren’t working with much to begin with, you didn’t want to make it worse. Sighing, you sat down on your bed as you began to type.

[10:25]

‘I’m sorry I haven’t replied to any of your messages :( can you video right now?’

You chewed on your lip anxiety immediately spiking in your head as you wondered if you came across too much like a victim...Or maybe you should’ve just not mentioned the not replying to his messages and just asked if- 

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the skype call sounding with Jungkook’s name under it, grabbing your chest you collapsed onto the bed as you made yourself comfortable, shying away from the camera as you grabbed your pillow in insecurity before accepting the call. 

“I really am sorry Jagi,” You couldn’t even open your mouth before Jungkook’s worried expression showed up on your laptop, the hoodie covering his head and just as you expected his puppy like eyes were glossed and filled with sadness, “I- I didn’t realize how much stress you were under and I shouldn’t have been so careless. This is the only time during the week that I get to see you and I really don’t want to argue…” 

You curled up against your pillow as you mumbled, “I should be the one apologizing, I know how much it means to you for us to be able to see each other in person and I need to make the time for us to be able to do that it’s just…” You had meant to tell him the truth but- “I just have a lot going on right now but I didn’t mean to take that out on you, I know you just want us to be together...” 

“Oh jagiya,” Jungkook sighed, longing filled his face and his fingers twitched a little as they ran through his hair as if wishing he could just hold you close to him, “It’s okay, I’m just glad you wanted to talk. I didn’t want the whole week to drag by without being able to talk to you, you know you always make my day better…” 

And just like that your chest blossomed with warmth as you curled up, hiding the smile that began to creep on your lips as you squeezed your pillow, “Not as much as you make my day. Especially when you send those tease pictures for me right before I need to go to bed.” You would never get enough of that addictive feeling of talking to Jungkook, his smile was always infectious.

And just like that you watch, just like every other time, in amazement at the way Jungkook’s personality switches like a light, the innocent sweet smile that was once on his lips is suddenly twisted into a cocky smirk and he leans back his chair, his long hair is slightly messy but just enough to make him look truly wicked, “Oh? Is that right gongjunim? I thought you’d appreciate it?” 

Said photo in question was sent thursday night when you were prepping for bed and Jungkook had very obviously just gotten out of the shower in the mirror selfie he had sent that displayed the chiseled abdomen and broad chest and not to mention the….ahem package he was sporting beneath the thin towel that he had purposely clutched with his free hand. 

Yeah...that nearly destroyed your right hand. 

“Well I did…” You immediately coiled up, no matter how many times this happens with your boyfriend- which is nearly every weekend, you always end up getting shy despite your thighs furiously pressing together and wetness building up in your panties, “Maybe a little too much…” 

Jungkook pressed his tongue into his cheek as his smirk widened, just his stare made you press your face into the pillow as you heard his chuckle, “What? What did you do?” 

The fact that he skipped to the golden question made you whine as you kicked your feet, you could hear another laugh from him as you curled up once more, “You know…” You mumbled, feeling your face burn as you pressed it against the pillow. 

“No baby I don’t.” Jungkook pouted but his voice rasped and something about saying baby in english with that accent of his had your fingers twitching as he puffed a breath of air in cockiness as he hummed, “Why don’t you tell me hm?” 

Shifting against the bed you shook your head, “You know what I’m talking about…” 

“Do I?” Jungkook challenged as he raised a brow, his beginning to clench as he slipped into his dominant headspace, tucking his tongue into his cheek as he asked, “If you can’t use your words would you rather show me? Be a good girl and show me, yeah?” 

Your words were muffled as you replied, “I had help…” Your face felt like it was practically on fire as you rubbed your legs together as you heard him laugh, “Then be a good girl and go get it jagiya, I’ll still be here.” You gave Jungkook a good laugh as you nearly scrambled out of bed to get your bullet vibrator off it’s charger before diving back on the bed making your laptop bounce as you sat up right. 

Jungkook meanwhile had pulled off his sweatshirt and repositioned his camera to expose his lower body, the familiar sight of his plump cherry lips exposed in that forever tainted smirk as he made himself comfortable in his chair, his thighs spreading apart and the indent in his sweats showing off proudly, “Good girl kitty, now I want you to take off your clothes, all of it.” 

You wiggled in your comfy sweatshirt feeling a little shy as you began to shed your clothes, “The bra too baby,” Jungkook coaxed as he licked his lips, his cock tightening and becoming harder at the sight of your flustered, shy expression as you unhooked your bra, there was nothing more this man wanted then to suckle on your nipples that immediately hardened against the chilled air of the room. 

Jungkook’s hand found its way to his bulge as he palmed himself through his grey sweats, “Panties too baby, I know you’re shy but you need to be a good girl and take them off. And remember your words.” He added with a low growl. 

“...Yes sir.” You mumbled, feeling chilly and exposed to nothing more then the camera on your laptop and Jungkook of course before you pulled off the panties you wore, arousal sticking to the fabric that stringed before you tossed them aside, your eyes unable to stay off his hand that kept stroking his bulge. 

“Good girl,” His lips twitched into a sadistic smile, “Now spread your legs jagiya and show me what you did to that photo I sent you, every little detail baby.” You whined as you looked away from the camera, “Jagiya…” Jungkook’s voice deepened a little in warning, “Are you gonna make me get out the controller?” 

Outwardly you’d completely deny that but inwardly....The idea nearly had you frothing out the mouth, but reluctantly you did as he asked, the chilled air nipping at your exposed warm wet folds had your levels of arousal that much higher and you could hear a soft verbal moan from Jungkook as he squeezed his hand over his cock, “Shibal,” He muttered a few other words in korean that you could only half make out before he spoke once more, “You’re so fucking wet baby. Play with yourself, don’t make me wait.” 

Tenderly you slipped your hand between your thighs, flinching a little at the cold that seeped from your fingers that met in opposition to the heat radiating off your cunt, arousal met your fingertips as you dragged them up you slit before rubbing slow circles around your clit, your lips parting a little at the idea of it being his fingers doing this to you.

Jungkook let out a little scoffed laugh, licking his lips as he pulled down his sweats just enough to free his throbbing cock, a sight you’d never fully get used too and had your mouth watering at just the sight. He was much thicker then he was long but he certainly wasn’t short, the vein on the underside of his cock displayed and you could even see his tip beginning to weep as it became red, “How bad do you wish those were my fingers playing with that little clit baby? Put those fingers inside your cunt baby,lay back and use your toy to make yourself feel good for me.

Situating your laptop before you laidback, opening your legs once more as you began to transition to your subspace as you closed your eyes, imagining his fingers dragging up your inner thighs. 

Letting your eyes open you whined at the sight of lube slipping from his cock as his hand slowly pumped his shaft, his lips parted at the sight of one finger slipping inside your cunt before pulling out and adding a second finger. You could just imagine those long thick fingers filling you up while fitting up against your g-spot. 

Fumbling with your vibrator you turned it on, switching the setting to a low pattern before carefully placing it on your aching bud. You had anticipated your reaction just as you did everytime and yet every time you still jolted, your walls tightly squeezing around your fingers as a whined squeak escaped your lips. 

“Fuck princess that’s it,” Jungkook edged you on, his tongue in his cheek as his hand squeezed around his cock before he used his free hand to grab his own toy, the fleshlight that nearly always turned you into a mess, “Bet that little hole can hardly fit your own fingers let alone my big fat cock, right baby? Yeah?” 

Your thighs were twitching as pleasure was rapidly buzzing against your clit and your walls kept squeezing around your fingers as you desperately tried to reach to your g-spot in need for an orgarsm to make up for all the anxiety and stress you had been under the whole day, “Yes! Yes sir! Ah- Mmph need you! Fuck, please! Sir.” You whimpered as your hips jolted to fuck back against your fingers.

 Jungkook pushes the opening of the flashlight over his tip as he let out a soft moan, his hips fluidly began thrusting to the point your walls were so tight you could hardly move your fingers just at the idea of his cock forcing its way inside you, you just knew this mans stroke game was good and proved it every fucking time he took out that toy.

Watching his cock disappear with every thrust inside his toy as his lips parted a little wider this time, “You want this baby? You wish this was your pussy I’m fucking nice and deep?”

Your body was too excited for all of his dirty talk as you squirmed shifting the buzzing vibrator to the sweet spot of your clit as you squeaked, trying to keep yourself from being too loud as your roommate was home, “Want it! Want it so fucking bad! Please sir! Sir!”

You were embarrassingly horny and this made worked you up every single time, your hips we’re stumbled and your walls were rapidly clenching in excitement as his thick cock rocking it’s way in and out of the toy that you could just imagine was your pussy he was fucking nice and slow, making you feel his nice fat cock with every killer slow thrust.

“Oh Jagiya,” Jungkook moaned out, “Don’t tell me my kitten is already close?” He chuckled as he watched the way your body withered the way it always did when you were close, his eyes feasting on the way your pussy was stretched so delicately against your small fingers and the way your thighs clenched and your feet kicked, “Do you need to cum so soon?” 

“Please! Please! Sir! I- I don’t think I can-“ Your thighs clamped together as your lips fell open, unable to even wait for his blessing as your orgasm ripped through your body, your toes curling as little whimpers escaped you, you could hear a long moan from Jungkook as you liddedly watched his hips stumble against his flesh light, hand running through his hair while he fumbled something in Korean. 

“Baby fuuck,” Jungkook’s voice lowered as he moaned, “Cum again princess, cum for me baby I wanna hear you make those noises again for me. Keep those little fingers stuffed inside yourself.” Jungkook’s hips kept stuttering against his toy, his cock throbbing desperate as his moans became breathy at the sight of you obeying him. You were always such a good girl.

Your fingers were aching but your desire to watch him come undone was even greater as you began pushing your fingers back against your g-spot once more, feathery whines escaping you at the feeling of pain beginning to mix with pleasure at the consistent thrum of the vibrator against your clit.

“Ah! S-sir…!” You whimpered quietly as your walls suddenly clamped around your fingers once more, “I- ah! I don’t think I can…!” 

“Yes you can,” Jungkook growled his hips bucking up into his toys faster his cock throbbing and squeezing in pleasure at the sight of your arousal slipping from your soaked cunt and the sight of your tits bouncing at the way your body kept squirming, he could only imagine what it would be like fucking you tied up and left to his mercy, “And you will,” He snapped with command, “You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for me again princess. I wasn’t fucking asking.” 

Your legs immediately twitched and your breath hitched as you cried out, your back arching at the way your body listened to him so easily on command, your walls tightening around your fingers rapidly and pleasure seered into your clit as the orgasm roughly filled your body, “Ah Jungkook! Fuck, fuck, fuck…! Fuck! Ooh!” Moans escaped you louder then you intended as your hips desperately fucked into your fingers to ride the powerful orgasm you experienced.

Jungkook moaned softly as his hips bucked one last time into his toy before cum was filling it up at the idea of milking all of himself in your little warm cunt, letting his hips swivel as he milked every last drop of cum from his cock as he moaned before relaxing back in his chair.

Chuckling a little at watching your lower body scramble at your vibrator continuing to drill against your over stimulated clit as you struggled to turn it off, “Take your fingers out baby, I wanna see them.” Jungkook licked his lips as you obeyed him, pulling your fingers from your cunt to reveal the thick layer of arousal and cum on them nearly making Jungkook’s mouth water with the desire to lick every drop off your fingers, this man couldn’t even describe what he’d do to go down on you.

“Ah fuck, jagiya,” Jungkook laughed, a little flustered at the way you sat up, looking directly into the camera before putting your fingers in your mouth, licking off the salty and somewhat musky taste of your arousal which in your opinion wasn’t that great and Jungkook would never accept your opinion on the matter, “You’re gonna make me hard all over again.” He whined as he carefully pulled the toy off his cock, feeling the white substance already rolling down his softening shaft to reveal the mess he had made.

You giggled a little, feeling shy once more as you stood up with wobbling legs, “I don’t have to help with that.” You called out, grabbing your favorite sweatshirt to pull over your body. It was your favorite because...Well because Jungkook had sent it to you and because it was big on him it was massive on you. 

You absolutely adored it, coming back in view you collapsed onto your bed as you curled up, Jungkook had just finished cleaning himself up, fixing his camera for you to see the beautiful radiant smile and eyes light up that was your boyfriend. He always had that dreamy look in his eyes while looking at you everytime you finished having Skype sex and everytime it always made you shy as you grabbed your pillow and curled up.

“You’re always so fucking good baby,” He groaned as he ran a hand through his hair, his smile permanently on his face as he stared in adoration at your curled up figure that was practically buried in his sweatshirt, “Mmm you were such a good girl too, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head when I told you to cum again.” 

He had a boyish laugh at the way you curled up, “Stoop! You know I was already overstimulated, you better hope my roommate didn’t hear anything…!” You covered your face in embarrassment at the realization you were a little loud.

Jungkook’s face stiffened a little at the mention of your roommate before he tried to play it off with a small laugh, “Yeah well, what’s he gonna do about it anyways? You were just being my good little girl jagiya.” You covered your face in semi embarrassment. You knew Jungkook was redirecting the conversation back to verbal aftercare because you knew he didn’t like the fact that your roommate was a guy who was not only your age but also very attractive. 

It wasn’t like Taehyung was ever interested in you, but you had mentioned to Jungkook when you first started talking that you used to have a crush on him. You felt as though some days that still lingered in Jungkook’s mind despite the fact that you didn’t even look at Taehyung twice anymore.

Especially since you and Jungkook became an item, however you also hadn’t told Jungkook that Taehyung had been...Well you weren’t sure what he was doing to be honest outside a few innuendos and winks. It mainly weirded you out as he had never paid any attention to you but regardless. This wasn’t about your roommate, this was about your amazing, handsome boyfriend who somehow managed to make you cum twice just by the sound of his voice, not everything could do that.

“You make it difficult to try and disobey.” You mumbled as a smile tugged in your lips, closing your eyes at the idea of his arms wrapped tight around you and his forehead pressed against your own, you could almost feel his warm breath against your face and his lips pressing against your forehead.

“Mmm id like to see you try,” Jungkook laughed as he leaned back his seat, letting out a content sigh as he spoke, “I’d make you wear those vibrating panties the whole day after making you overestimate yourself and I’d make sure to wake up every hour just to hold that button for three minutes straight.” 

“You’re so mean!” You whines as you fluttered your feet before crawling under your covers as you yawned, “You’re already planning a punishment when I haven’t even done anything wrong.” 

“I’m not!” Jungkook laughed as he objected, moving his hair from his face, “I’m just telling you what would’ve happened if you weren’t obedient. I mean, that’s not always a bad thing baby.” He sent a wink your way that immediately made your cheeks warm as you pressed your face against the blanket with a giggle.

“I can’t do that over a video call…! Maybe if you were here in my bed I’d be a little more defiant.” You always had a hard time trying to flirt confidently but Jungkook always ate it up every single time you threw him a crumb.

“Jagiya if you can’t be defiant over a call what makes you think you’d manage it when I’m between your legs sucking the soul out of your pussy?” Jungkook was immediately cackling at the way you shoved your face into your pillow with a whine, “Exactly baby, you can’t even look at me right now.” He cooed out.

“Well maybe I’m just a little more bold in person.” You challenged, peeping out from behind your pillow making Jungkook chuckle as he shook his head, his eyes filled with adoration as he leaned back in his seat.

“Well sweetheart I’ll just have to see for myself one day huh?” Jungkook’s smile was so beautiful, it was arguably one of your favorite features as he spoke, “You know I love you to the moon and back jagiya.”

“Well I love you love you to the stars and beyond,” You whispered back as you hugged your pillow close, closing your eyes sleepily as you smiled….One day...Hopefully you’d overcome your anxiety soon to make the one day become soon, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand being apart from the one person who would never stop making your day.

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair 

Chapter 28: The Precipice

Summary: The bliss of blind optimism begins to dissipate

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Jamie awoke the next morning to find Claire curled up against his back, one of her legs thrown over his and her arm draped across his chest. A content smile sleepily formed on his face as he came to the realization that he was the little spoon. As much as he didn’t want to disturb her— and he very much enjoyed this cuddling position and would have to keep it in mind for later— he thought she needed a little extra care this morning. 

Turning over with the utmost delicacy, Jamie tried to keep her limbs in position over him while he shifted to face her. Once he was face to face with his faerie, he could watch her expression as she slept. 

“Mo calman geal,” he breathed in barely a whisper. My white dove. 

She was so beautiful lying beside him, the early morning sunlight illuminating her alabaster skin. Her lashes were dark against her cheeks, and the curls of her hair twined around her face with abandon. He wanted to wake up every morning to the sight of his love like this. 

Leaning forward, he brushed his lips gently in the spot between her brows that was smooth with sleep. Moving along, he hovered his lips over her cheek before pressing the barest hint of a kiss along the cheekbone. 

She awoke slowly as he kissed her other cheek, murmuring something unintelligible and squeezing her eyes shut tighter against wakefulness. 

“Good morning, mo chridhe,” he whispered as he ended his exploration of her face with a quick peck on the lips. 

“Jamie?” she dazedly murmured. 

Her arms came up to wrap around his shoulders as her eyes fluttered open. 

“Hi, a leannan,” he said warmly. 

She pulled him closer and then rolled them slightly so Jamie was lying back and she could rest her head on his shoulder. 

“How are ye feelin’ this mornin’?” he asked. 

“Tired,” she replied, her voice hushed. 

“Tired? Ye’ve only just woken up. Could ye no’ sleep last night?” 

“I did. I’m just… tired,” she responded. The fatigue was apparent. She seemed muted somehow, speaking as though her head was underwater.  

This sent Jamie’s heart beating faster, and he lifted up his head so he could look down at her, studying every inch he could see. But to his knowledge, nothing seemed wrong with her physically, other than the fact that the sweet calm of sleep was dissipating, leaving her with a pallor and listlessness that made Jamie’s stomach knot. 

“And ye dinna ken why? Maybe ye’re sick?” he asked anxiously, “maybe ye’ve caught something?” 

He repositioned them, shifting so that Claire moved back to the pillow and he could brace up on his elbow above her. He placed a hand on her forehead, his thumb brushing over her brow, but found it cool. “Can ye tell?” 

Jamie held his breath, daring to hope that maybe she could simply heal herself as she’d healed him. Could faeries even do that? 

Shaking her head against his head, she seemed sad. “I can’t tell,” she answered softly, but couldn’t provide any more explanation, “I can’t feel anything.” 

“Maybe ye should go back to sleep, a leannan?” Jamie suggested, his anxiety mounting. He brought his hand up to brush his fingers down the side of her face. 

She gave another shake of the head, interrupting his motions. “I don’t want to. Can I just sit with you for a while?” 

His heart broke a little at her tentative question. 

“Of course ye can, my sweet one,” his voice caught a little on the endearment, “but why dinna ye jes’ stay in bed while I feed Adso and myself? I have time, I’ll be back before ye know it.” 

“I want to stay with you,” she insisted, the clinginess obvious in her voice. But instead of its usual feisty quality— the way she adhered to him with passion, as if every touch lit the fire inside of her— she seemed limp. As if the most she could do to keep herself by his side was ask. 

Jamie’s brow furrowed. He was really starting to get concerned about her. Studying her pale face, he traced a fingertip across her cheekbone. 

“We’ll stay then, a leannan,” he opted not to bring up his worries any further. Not when she was like this. 

Despite the words that had just left his lips, there was a lump in his throat and a tugging on his mind that he couldn’t ignore. They could only stay for so long… Jamie was supposed to go into work. To leave Claire by herself. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was only 6 am, and he let out a sigh. There was still plenty of time to take care of her before he had to leave. 

For the umpteenth time, he wished he could simply up and quit his job. Everything in his life paled in comparison to the consumingness of her. But he knew that this trouble would pass soon enough, and it wouldn’t be right to abandon his passion and livelihood simply because he wanted to spend every waking second with his lass. 

Claire was staring at him, her head tilted against the pillow as she watched this struggle play out on his face. There seemed a moment where her features darkened and her eyes fell. 

“I forgot about work,” she murmured, having correctly intuited exactly what was going on in his brain. Disappointment cast a veil over her normally open face. 

“I have time, a leannan. I always have time for you.” 

Jamie started to reach out, meaning to bring her into his arms again, but she shook her head. 

“Go on. You need food, and time to get dressed. Let’s go,” she said. 

Whether she was fighting it or not, Jamie would slow down. He shifted himself closer to her on the bed, cupping her face with one hand and sliding his other over her hip. He caressed up and down in long strokes, intentionally slow. 

“Ye’re the only thing on my mind right now, mo Sorcha. 

The look on her face made his stomach twist. Her eyes were downcast, not meeting his, and there was tension in the muscles of her cheeks, as if she was trying to hold a mask in place. She was quiet, and the only reply to his words was a shaky exhale. 

Jamie drew up so he hovered over her. Tilting her face up, he brought his lips to ghost a kiss over those beautiful pink lips. 

Even that didn’t seem to break the somber mood that trapped his love. Jamie felt excessively guilty as he stayed rooted in that position, staring into her eyes and cradling her face with both hands. He wished he could tell her he would take off again, that they could take a sick day together, and that he could hold her until she felt normal again, but he couldn’t say any of those things. 

“It’s okay, Jamie,” Claire murmured, turning those fatigued eyes on him full force, “let’s go downstairs.” 

*

While Jamie made breakfast, Claire wandered over to the kitchen table. He glanced over every few seconds to check on her, but she was so quiet. His concern amped up several notches when he looked over at one point to find she had laid her head in her arms where they rested on the table. Her eyes were closed and her breathing slow. 

Something was definitely wrong. 

Jamie turned off the stove and abandoned his parritch. He walked over to her and gently ran his hand over the back of her head, trying to shove down the worry that nearly made his hand tremble. 

Her response was to simply turn her head a bit on her arms, indicating she felt him, but she didn’t say a word. 

“Sassenach—” he started to say, but she lifted her head. 

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

“I dinna want to leave ye.” 

She did raise her head then, turning big honey eyes up toward him. Her lips caught the heel of his hand in a kiss before she spoke. 

“You have to go, Jamie. It’ll be good. I’ll go back to sleep, and I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself when you get home.” 

Jamie felt like a toddler about to have a tantrum. He was tired of this conflict every damn day! He hated going into work and leaving her here, but he hated leaving his company when he knew very well they needed him. He felt like he was being torn in different directions and that one day he would simply snap. 

Taking a deep breath, he shoved down that line of thinking. It wouldn’t do Claire any good to have him strung out over work. While she was sick, he would simply have to keep it together and make one decision at a time. And today, whether he liked it or not, the decision was clear. 

“Okay, Sassenach. But that doesna mean that I willna give ye my full attention now while I’m here.” 

She smiled a little at this, lifting her head enough to fix him with that whisky gaze. “Does that mean you’ll have your breakfast on the couch?”

Jamie rolled his eyes but felt his muscles ease at the relief of seeing that glimpse of her usual self. 

Recently, she’d begun to rebel against the kitchen table. The kitchen chairs were no good— she would complain. No good for snuggling, she meant. Even when she scooted hers as close as possible to Jamie’s, that was apparently not close enough for her. She’d begun a campaign against the table then, trying to get him to sit on the couch for meals where she could burrow into his side. Finding her incredibly distracting and a bit disconcerting to have a faerie trying to apparently jump into his skin while he attempted to have a meal, Jamie had stood firm on his policy. Meals were taken at the table. 

Only now, seeing that tiny spark in her eyes at mention of breakfast on the couch, Jamie never stood a chance. 

“You win, a leannan. Jes’ this once, I’ll have my parritch wi’ ye in the living room. Come on, then, lass.” 

And so he found himself on the couch, bowl held out in front of him and Claire glued to his side. It didn’t take long for her head to meet his shoulder and her hands to wrap around his bicep in a sort of half-hug. 

His heart skipped a few beats as she clung to him. 

“Yer hands are cold, a leannan,” he noticed.

She murmured an uncertain hmmm? but didn’t say anything more. Jamie decided to drop it. Clearly she was under the weather, no denying it, but he hoped that an actual day of rest would do her well. He simply swallowed down his parritch and tried not to think too much about what he couldn’t control. Claire was silent nearly the whole time, just breathing deeply against his side.

When it came time for him to run out the door, he was ready to cry and stamp his feet at the unfairness of adult life. He tugged his bag over his shoulder with more force than necessary, and had to resist tearing it off again as he returned to Claire where she lay on the couch. 

“If I have a second free I’ll run back to check on ye, alright, mo ghraidh?” he said after getting her tucked underneath a warmth blanket, an edge of urgency on his voice. The blanket was a poor substitute for his body, but he didn’t want to leave her with nothing. At least he could wrap his tartan around her, imagining his protection enveloped her. 

“Don’t worry, Jamie. I’ll see you when you get home,” Claire said, already settling down on the throw pillow with her eyes falling closed. 

It eased him considerably to see her already burrowing in for a nap, and he muttered a quick prayer over her in Gaelic before giving her one last kiss to the forehead. 

“I love you more than anythin’, mo chridhe. Be well,” he said in farewell. 

“I love you,” she echoed, her voice already laced with the slur of sleep. 

***

Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser was no babysitter. 

Sure, he’d spent nearly all his free time with Ellen’s bairns, but that was different. He was a hard man, used to solitude, and he most certainly did not take care of people. 

Only when Jamie Fraser had called him from work, his voice dripping with anxious concern, pleading with him to go check in on his lass to see if she was alright, Murtagh had somehow lost his mind and relented. Maybe it was something about Jamie’s story— how Claire was feelin’ ill but he’d forgotten to leave a cellphone with her so she could call if she needed something— or maybe it was just the obvious worry in his godson’s voice, but something had made Murtagh give in. He hated letting down the lad more than anything, so he had decided that he could manage a little look-in that was most certainly not anything more than that.

A short time later, he found himself unlocking Jamie’s house with his spare key and yelling a greeting as he stepped inside. 

“Claire? Lass? Jamie asked me tae check in on ye. Are ye alright?” he called. 

But he heard no answer. Figuring she was upstairs in the bedroom having a nap, Murtagh made his way upstairs, only to find all the rooms empty. 

“Lass?” he called again, “are ye here?” 

He worried for a minute that she’d left, made a run for it while Jamie was at work so she could avoid saying goodbye, but then he remembered the way the lass had looked at Jamie, spoke about him, and he knew in his wame that there was no way the lass had up and left. 

He checked the basement before making another round through the house, only to find no trace of the wee lassie. 

There was one last place to look, even though only someone out of their damn mind would go outside on a dreich day such as this one. 

He slid open the back door reluctantly, squinting out into the back garden. His eyes swept lazily across it, not expecting to find anything, but then his gaze landed on the shape of a figure laying on the ground in front of the wee patch of dirt that was a sorry excuse for a garden. 

Adrenaline flooded Murtagh’s veins, and he ran outside, cursing under his breath. 

By the time he got to her, dropping to his knees beside her, she was struggling to sit up, pushing up on her hands and shaking her head, looking disoriented. 

“Have ye lost yer mind, lass?” Murtagh burst out, reaching to help her sit up. 

She didn’t answer, just pressed her dirty hands against her face and swayed slightly. 

Taking in the sight of her, Murtagh realized Jamie had been right to call him. The lass certainly was ill. Her face was pale and drawn, and she looked damn near ready to keel over again. Her hand shook where it was lifted to her face, and she was blinking hard. 

“Come on, now,” Murtagh said, much more gently this time. 

She still didn’t say anything, but she didn’t protest either when he took her arms and laid it across his shoulders so he could lift her to her feet with a quiet “up ye get.” 

Her breath hitched the moment they were upright, and she sagged heavily against him, barely supporting her own weight. Like a sack of grain against him, the puir lass couldn’t even manage to hold on. 

“Ye’re alright,” Murtagh found himself saying to her as she struggled to stay upright, “let’s get ye inside.” 

Slowly, they made their way inside, Murtagh taking the majority of her weight and offering encouragements he didn’t know he had in him. She didn’t say a word, white lips pressed tightly together as her feet dragged. 

Once they had finally made it inside, Murtagh deposited her on the couch before grabbing a blanket and tucking it around her. 

“There ye go, that’ll be more comfortable than the dirt outside, I’d expect,” Murtagh said. 

By this time, he was used to the lass not saying a word. He thought maybe she was one who simply shut down when she wasn’t feeling well. Besides, she seemed like she was barely conscious, let alone coherent enough to have a conversation. So he was surprised when she murmured out a weak, “thank you.” 

“Ye’re welcome, lass,” Murtagh said, trying to sound gruff and uncaring, but the words came out gentle as her tone struck some chord inside him, “get some sleep now. Ye’ll feel better wi’ some rest.” 

He must have been losing his edge if one sick lassie could turn him into a mother hen. 

“Jamie?” she asked, her voice muffled by the blanket which she was pulling up toward her face. 

“He’ll be back when ye wake,” Murtagh promised. 

She closed her eyes then, seeming content with that answer, and Murtagh left her to head into the kitchen where he could call Jamie privately. 

The poor lad was rocked by his report, sounding over the phone like someone had punched him in the stomach, and he’d promised to be home right away. He must have broken every traffic law because it took him only 20 minutes to get home from the city. 

Jamie burst in through the front door, disheveled and wild with worry, and Murtagh found himself rushing over and shushing him so he didn’t wake the lass where she slept on the couch.

His godson had quieted immediately, and before Murtagh could give him the story, Jamie was pushing past him into the living room. 

Murtagh watched as the lad caught sight of Claire, his eyes filling with soft worry. His entire demeanor changed from wired to gentle as Jamie knelt down beside the couch, brushing curls away from the lass’ forehead so he could press a kiss there. 

Her eyes fluttered open at the touch. It seemed to take her a second to orient herself, but the second she realized who was with her, her whole face melted. 

“Jamie,” she breathed out. 

“I’m here now, mo ghraidh, dinna fash,” he said, more gentle than Murtagh had ever seen him, “go back to sleep. I’m here.” 

“Will you stay with me?” she asked. 

Murtagh felt like he was intruding on a private moment, but he couldn't seem to look away as Jamie pressed another kiss to her brow. “In jes’ a minute, lass. Hold on, jes’ a moment.” He kissed her again, as if he couldn’t bear the words coming from his mouth. “I promise I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, barely moving her head, and then closed her eyes again. Looking like the weight of the world was on his back, Jamie stood and turned toward Murtagh, gesturing toward the kitchen with a tilt of his head. 

“So you found her in the garden?” Jamie asked once they were both seated at the table. 

“Aye. She looked like she’d collapsed out there. Something’s wrong wi’ the lass, Jamie.” 

Jamie looked sad, his blue eyes— so like Ellen’s— were unfocused. His mind was clearly in the living room. Shaking his head, he admitted, “I ken. I’m scared for her.” 

“Take her to a doctor, lad,” Murtagh told him, “she needs help.” 

For some reason, this seemed to pain Jamie all the more. He looked down, fiddling with his fingers. Something was going on in that brain of his, but Murtagh had no idea what it was. 

“Dinna fash, I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Murtagh told him, “take some more time off, see her well, and call me if ye need anythin.” 

“Thanks, Murtagh,” Jamie said, nodding as if to convince himself of the validity of Murtagh’s assurances. 

“Dinna think on it,” he dismissed, “Now, go back tae yer lass.”

***

When Jamie closed the door behind Murtagh, he had to take a second to lean his back against it, pushing all the air from his lungs in a long breath. He felt like his head was whirling, his body thrumming as he came down from the adrenaline. The drive home had been a mad dash, and Jamie didn’t even remember half of it. Now, the quiet stillness of the house seemed stifling. 

He wouldn’t think about Claire’s suffering. He wouldn’t think about her laying outside the garden all by herself.. He wouldn’t think about her perfect skin marred by dirt as she tried and failed to push herself up… he wouldn’t—

The punishing flood of mental pictures burned in his brain and twisted his stomach in guilty turmoil. 

He was a fool. He was a damned fool for leaving her. He’d known she wasn’t well this morning, and he’d known she was far too stubborn to take care of herself and simply sleep, but he’d left her anyway. 

As he returned to Claire’s side to find her fast asleep, he was torn between cursing her for her foolishness in going outside and cursing himself for deciding to leave her. 

“I’m here, mo nighean donn,” he whispered to her as he pressed a long kiss to her temple, lips lingering as if his touch could erase the mistakes of the day. 

Part of him wished that she was awake, if only to comfort him that things weren’t as bad as they seemed. But she was finally resting, and if his kiss didn’t wake her, he wouldn’t disrupt her sleep. 

Deciding she would be better off in bed, Jamie slid his hands underneath her and gathered her in. He carried her upstairs, taking careful steps with his most precious cargo before settling her again in bed. She barely stirred— hardly reacted at all to the change in location. Her eyes remained shut and her face still. 

“Rest now, mo ghraidh,” Jamie murmured over her. 

He allowed himself one caress over her brow and one kiss to the top of her curls. And then he left her to her sleep. 

The second he sat down at the desk in his study, he felt himself deflate like a balloon. He buried his face in his hands and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. 

The only sound filling the room was the clock ticking on the wall.

***

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