#and so it was SO EASY to hang out with people

[alovelyfrenchworld]

Your Neigborly Orc Part 1

Meeting an orc was not something that anyone from your village ever expected. Even with your village being the closest human civilization near the river orc territories, it was still considered strange.

Half-orcs were proof of the interracial relations, but they were rare in your part of the country. A half-orc hadn't been spotted for around 50 years. You never thought you would be one to compete with the discourse of your people.

You met your warlord lover perchance after hunting one day. THe border between the orc territory and the human territory was divided by a small river in the forest. Few ever ventured that close.

There was knowledge that other orc territories had blurred with the humans in other regions, but yours had yet to do so. The overall interactions with orcs had increased across the lands and it was becoming a small shadow in the thoughts of the human civilizations of what these interactions could mean.

Regardless of their opinions, you tried to stay near to your homestead you had established in the blissful wood. You decided a change of pace to create a space for yourself was beneficial. You lived close to the river that divided the territories as it gave you a water source, but when hunting and foraging, you tried to stay as close as possible. If one was not paying attention, it was easy to cross the borders between territories. Even in your land did the borders begin to blur.

You had begun to make a living from selling animals meats and forage herbs in your village. Living in the wood gave you access to many resources and a source for profit. Living solitarily was not as lonely as many thought.

**********

The winter was growing harsher as the weeks went by, making it all the more pertinent to stay stocked on supplies. Primarily, that meant firewood was in constant need.

After enjoying a humble breakfast and attending to your minimal, but helpful, livestock, you set out into the nearby wood to refill your kindling.

Supplied with your rucksack, simple ace, and rope for bundling, you set out for the day. The weather had killed off many of the berry bushes and herbs you often used, so meat and wood had become the primary subjects of your searches.

After finding a decent spot, you chopped away at some smaller trees that would be easier for you to carry. Carrying everything by hand was not your usual method, but your wagon was not properly equipped for travelling in the snow, so you you could only bring home what you could carry. That fateful day, you were not the only one who decided to go out deeper into the woods.

Some distance away, across the river, was a big, burly, orc chopping away at a large log. Methodically and skillfully, he was chopping the wood and bundling it together.

You were mesmerized. You had never seen an orc in person before. He fascinated you.

Having noticed your staring, you went back to chopping wood. The noise must have alerted the orc, who then took his turn to take note of you when you were looking away.

You, unknowingly being watched in return, bundled the bits of ash tree you had chopped and readied yourself to go back home.

"It won't be enough," spoke a gravelly voice.

You turned to see the orc standing closer to the river, his kindling hanging from one arm.

"I'm sorry?" you hadn't expected him to speak to you.

"A few more bits of wood will help you. It's an awfully freezing winter." He was right, but you wouldn't admit that to a stranger.

"I appreciate your input, but I can handle my own. Have a good day, sir." At that, you turned around to head back home.

Regardless of whether or not the orc was right, you wanted to be self-sufficient. You had all you could carry and that was more that what many could do, so either way, you were proud.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Yaknow maybe you should write a blurb where driver male reader gets into f1 the same time logans dropped(i wanna say kicked because it cant be described as just dropped yaknow?) And theyve been dateing for a while so when he gets into f1 he Decides he's going to ignore the other drivers like they did logan (Except maybe talk to alex a little even tho their on different teams) and reader just demolishes the rest of the drivers on track and gets first for the races left (while being nice to franco only because logan said so) and the other drivers ask oscar why reader is to cold to them and he doesnt know cause readers doing the same to him even tho their childhood friends he even tells them that he's never seen reader this petty and it probably something personal that happend off track and that he'll be better by they end of the season (even tho reader wont)

Cold revenge— Logan sargeant x male reader

Word count — 1535

Fluff with a angst

The paddock was louder than he’d expected, bustling with voices and familiar faces. But Y/N wasn’t here to make friends—not with them. Not when they’d let Logan go so easily. He could feel a flash of resentment bubble up as he brushed past the crowd, heading straight for his garage.

As the season started, his focus sharpened, race after race. He was taking wins like they were meant for him, hardly sparing a glance for the other drivers. He’d see Oscar trying to catch his eye now and then, probably wondering what was up, but Y/N kept things short, tight smiles and nods before walking off. Alex got a little more acknowledgment, mostly because Logan had always had a soft spot for him. And Franco? Logan had asked him to be cool with Franco, so he’d manage that, too.

It wasn’t long before the other drivers started noticing. In the paddock, the whispers grew. During post-race interviews, Y/N’s answers were straightforward, never really engaging with the usual back-and-forth banter. Charles leaned over to Oscar one day, raising an eyebrow. “What’s with Y/N? He hasn’t even looked at half of us since he got here.”

Oscar shrugged, visibly stung, like he didn’t have a clue either. “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe something off-track. He’s never been this… intense.”

Race by race, Y/N kept winning, his focus relentless. But with each victory, he caught himself glancing at his phone, waiting for Logan’s usual text—a “good job” or a thumbs-up emoji. Y/N knew Logan was watching, but lately, the messages were shorter, more… careful.

By the third race, Y/N noticed Franco hanging back after qualifying. The two exchanged glances, Franco giving him a slight, knowing smile. At first, Y/N wasn’t sure whether to respond, but he remembered Logan’s words, that Franco was “alright.” Begrudgingly, he gave Franco a quick nod as he walked past.

Next race weekend, Franco didn’t hold back. “Good job out there,” he said in his usual friendly tone as they passed each other in the paddock. “Could’ve made it look less easy, you know?” he added with a smirk.

Y/N couldn’t help the small grin that slipped out. “Guess I’m just doing my job.”

Franco laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Well, good to see you’re human after all. Logan would be proud, yeah?”

A flicker of surprise crossed Y/N’s face. Hearing Logan’s name reminded him of the loyalty that had been fueling him, but Franco’s easygoing attitude softened his edge. “Yeah… he’s been watching.”

The next time he ran into Franco, it felt almost natural to swap a few words. They didn’t talk much, but Franco’s relaxed, warm nature was slowly breaking down the ice.

Not long after, Y/N found himself in a post-race briefing alongside Alex, who had a way of putting people at ease. Alex gave him a quick glance as they waited. “You know, Logan’s been talking you up—says you’re unstoppable out there.”

Y/N managed a quiet chuckle. “Guess I have to live up to that, huh?”

Alex smiled, nodding. “If anyone could, it’d be you. Just… don’t let the intensity take you down too, yeah?”

For a second, Y/N hesitated, then nodded. It was odd—Logan had always admired Alex’s resilience and calm, and now Y/N could see why. Alex’s words settled something inside him, easing the sharp edges he’d been carrying.

Over time, the walls began to come down, bit by bit. Y/N would pass Franco in the paddock, giving him a small grin. Alex became someone he actually stopped to chat with on occasion, their exchanges short but genuine. He still wasn’t the chattiest guy in the paddock, but for the first time, it felt like he didn’t need to keep everyone at arm’s length.

By the season’s end, Y/N had found a balance between his loyalty to Logan and his own journey. The paddock had gone from hostile ground to something familiar, and as he stood on the podium after the final race, he couldn’t help but look at Franco and Alex in the crowd, grateful for the unlikely friendships he’d found along the way.

Let me know how you like this! This version keeps Y/N’s guarded personality intact but lets Franco and Alex start bringing him out of his shell gradually.

Finally, after a particularly tense win, Y/N found a message waiting from Logan: Come over tonight? Need to catch up, just us.

When he arrived, Logan had already set up in his living room, a few beers on the coffee table, the TV playing softly in the background. Logan shot him a grin as he walked in, patting the seat next to him. “Congrats, champ,” he said, holding up a beer. “Guess the whole ‘quiet assassin’ thing is working for you.”

Y/N chuckled, easing onto the couch. “Guess so. I’m just here to win.”

Logan took a swig, then gave him a long look. “Yeah… noticed you’re not exactly chatty with the others.”

Y/N shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “Not here to make friends. They didn’t exactly do you any favors.”

Logan shook his head, a fond but tired smile creeping across his face. “I get it, really. But they’re not the bad guys here, Y/N. This… grudge or whatever—don’t make it yours.”

For a moment, Y/N was quiet, letting Logan’s words sink in. He felt a pang of guilt; maybe he’d taken things too far.

But the next weekend, in the paddock, he felt a little lighter. He saw Carlos out of the corner of his eye, who gave him a nod he’d usually ignore. This time, he raised a hand in a casual wave. Carlos blinked, surprised, but returned the smile.

Then, during pre-race prep, he found himself standing next to Pierre, who hesitated before glancing over with a small smirk. “So… you’re finally letting us exist?”

Y/N shrugged, a grin slipping through. “Just maybe.”

As the season wore on, Y/N gradually loosened up—small nods here, a smile there. He was still mostly quiet, but the wall was cracking.

Y/N was heading back to his garage after another win, the adrenaline still pulsing through his veins. He’d barely stepped out of his car when he spotted Oscar lingering nearby, leaning against the wall with a look that was somewhere between curiosity and frustration. It wasn’t the first time Oscar had tried to catch him alone, but this time, Y/N stopped.

Oscar pushed off the wall, hands in his pockets as he approached. “Got a minute?”

Y/N nodded, folding his arms. “What’s up?”

Oscar looked at him, clearly trying to pick his words carefully. “Look… I don’t know what’s going on with you lately. You’re here, but it’s like you’re not. You barely even look at any of us.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched slightly. He wanted to deflect, but he could see the concern in Oscar’s eyes, mixed with a bit of hurt. “It’s nothing personal. Just… keeping my focus.”

Oscar scoffed, crossing his arms. “Come on, mate. It’s not just focus—you’ve been shutting everyone out, including me.” He hesitated, then sighed. “We’ve been friends since before all this. I get that F1 changes people, but it feels like you’re a stranger here. It’s like something happened and you’re just… cold.”

Y/N looked down, feeling the weight of Oscar’s words. He’d been so focused on staying loyal to Logan’s memory in F1 that he hadn’t thought about what it looked like to the people who actually cared about him.

“It’s about Logan,” he said finally, his voice low. “He got kicked out, and they barely gave him a second thought. I didn’t want to let it go, so I guess… I figured keeping to myself was my way of showing I’m not here to be their friend.”

Oscar’s expression softened as he nodded slowly. “I get it. I really do. But Logan wouldn’t want you to be this way, would he? Being here, it’s your time, your career. Don’t let what happened to Logan weigh you down. You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone but yourself.”

Y/N felt something shift. He’d been carrying this silent anger for so long, and now, faced with Oscar’s steady gaze, he realized maybe he didn’t have to carry it alone.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Y/N said quietly. “It’s just… hard to shake it off.”

Oscar clapped him on the shoulder, a reassuring smile spreading across his face. “I know. But just… let us in, alright? You’ve got people here who want to see you succeed, not just win.”

Y/N managed a faint smile. “Thanks, Oscar. I’ll try.”

As he walked back to his garage, he felt a weight lift, and for the first time, he was ready to let the walls down—just a little.

By the final race, he was in the paddock with Logan’s voice in his head, letting go of the need to prove anything. And when he finished the season with a win, he found himself in the center of the team celebration, surrounded by drivers who’d finally started to see the real Y/N.

[jaembun]

your golden arrow went through my heart.

dancing together at a wedding.. he can’t help but think about your own ！⠀⸻⠀na jaemin x gnr ⠀ fluff he’s soooo downbad ⠀ wc 1.5k ⠀ now playing . . ☆

���각⠀FFFFFFUCKKKKK I NEED HIMMM. plagiarising myself sorry yeonjun

the smell of champagne, perfume, cake, and smoke was rife in the large hall, multicoloured lights bouncing off every wall and poking into every crevice of the high ceiling. you knew jaemin’s family was fairly large, of course, but for every guest they must’ve extended an invite to at least three of their friends as well—everywhere you looked there was another person: a niece there, a work friend of his father’s here, an uncle there.

but you supposed the extravagance and the sheer size was necessary for a wedding—jaemin’s cousin’s, to be specific, who looked gorgeous in a gold-accented gown with the train and jewels to match, and who was currently being spun around on the dance floor by her newly wedded husband. the ceremony was beautiful, the reception was beautiful, and perhaps the most beautiful of all was the who-knows-how-many-tiers of wedding cake that you’d already helped yourself to three slices of, as well as reluctantly feeding jaemin bites of when he’d pouted and tugged at your hand until you’d given in.

he looked satisfied now, nestled into your side in the quietest corner of the almost-pitch-black hall while the music played and people danced, his younger relatives twirling each other in circles or skidding along the smooth flooring with balloons tied around their wrists and confetti stars glittering whenever they caught the lights from where they were tangled within their hair. other guests had chosen to hang back, settling at the tables nearer the other end of the venue (and nearer the food) with glasses in their hands and smiles on their faces. 

the pair of you hadn’t spoken in a while, content to sway gently to the music, and you assumed he’d fallen quiet because he was tired; worn out from the job that was trailing around the hall and saying hello to all the people he knew and a few he didn’t. and while that had taken a little out of him, the reality was that jaemin was only silent because he was biting his tongue—out of fear he’d do something stupid like get on one knee and propose to you right there and then, with nothing except his pocket square as a makeshift ring and the burning urge to ask you to be his for as long as you’d have him.

he wouldn’t do that, of course. it’d get him kicked out for stealing his cousin’s thunder, for starters. it’d be like his aunt standing up on a table and announcing that she was pregnant. the second reason was simply that he didn’t know what you’d say.

well. actually, not really. he would bet fairly confidently that you’d say yes—but you’d say it eventually. now was.. too soon. he’d need to have drawn up a down-to-the-last-detail plan, secure approval from all of your friends and family, and asked renjun for the best place to get the rings before he could even think of asking. it was just—how could he be standing here with you, in amongst all the love and the glitter and the music, and not think of dropping to one knee? he was holding on, but just barely. it would’ve taken nothing more than seeing the disco lights reflecting in your eyes for all his resolve to deplete, and so he focused on melding himself into your side and staring out onto the dance floor. 

that was, until you slid a hand from out of his hold and around his waist, tugging him to face you and gesturing towards the place you’d both just been watching, asking without saying a word. he could do nothing except nod and let himself be led, teeth pressing into his bottom lip. “marry me,” he wanted to scream, but instead he slung his arms over your shoulders and leaned in to rest his head too close to yours, breaths intermingling as you began an easy sway to the music.

the slow dancing had long been left behind, so your relaxed pace was slightly out of place compared to everyone else, but neither of you could really bring yourselves to care. jaemin would’ve been content to stay like that until the lights turned on again, but was startled by your sudden whispering: “you okay?”

he recovered quickly, easy grin on his lips as he replied, “of course. why wouldn’t i be?” but then he was looking into your eyes as he said it, and the song was just right, and your touch was so gentle—he was tripping over himself into his next words, head crashing down onto your shoulder as he pulled you closer. “i was just.. thinking about the day it’s us doing this, is all.”

when jaemin felt you still for a moment under his palms, his heart dropped to his feet—worried he’d overstepped by even bringing it up, head whipping back up again to laugh it off. but what he found in your face wasn’t disgust or discomfort, it was more gentle surprise, mouth opened with nothing to say. his hands slowly rose to cup your cheeks, and the warmth that met his palms made it impossible to hide the jaw-aching smile his mouth stretched into.

you shied away from his touch, shoulders hunching up in embarrassment at his smile, and jaemin was going to die. his heart was going to burst all over you in a shower of golden confetti and multicoloured stars, he was sure of it. he pressed as close as he possibly could, determined to leave absolutely no space between you, and brought his hands to rest lightly on either side of your neck, fingertips almost touching at the nape. your lips moved to speak, and your voice was quiet, shy. he fell in love all over again.

“jaem. you can’t.. you can’t say that here. it’s too—i’ll get—you just can’t. really.”

“why?” and he had no shame in his whiny tone, pout already on his face. your slow movements turned a little frantic when he twisted the both of you side to side in protest, ignoring a few looks from others on the dance floor. “i’m excited! just—just imagine. me and you. married. it’s gonna be the best.” 

eyes locked with yours, he could see the exact moment you decided to indulge him. “oh really? what colour’s your suit gonna be?”

“your favourite colour.” and jaemin knew he was being over-the-top, knew you’d only scoff and roll your eyes back at him, and he didn’t care. it was true. his suit your favourite colour, the cake your favourite flavour, the music your favourite playlist. he’d do it all for you.

“so sappy, jaem,” you teased, head leaning forward until your foreheads rested against one another. “keep it up and i might start to think you’ve got a ring box at home.”

not yet. but soon. after a talk with renjun. after a little more time. some part of jaemin wished he did have one stashed away in an unused draw, though. so he could spring it on you as soon as next week, get all the words he wanted to propose to you with out of his head, to hold your hand and feel the cool metal of an engagement band against his skin. not yet. soon. he repeated the words aloud to you, delighted at how the skin of your nape flushed hotter under his touch.

“i wanna kiss you.” his gaze was unwavering, hands desperate around your neck, cheeks red and grin gleaming at you through the dark. 

you flustered again, hands dipping in and out of his back pockets just for something to do, somewhere to put them. “not—not here. everyone can see.”

jaemin was still unbothered, knowing, annoying. “don’t care. i’ve been showing you off all night, they know you’re mine. and it’s dark!”

your shoulders heaved in a put-upon sigh, and he knew he’d won, leaning in and smiling into it. no matter how many times he’d done this, it always felt like the first time for jaemin—colours exploding behind his closed eyes, his whole body feeling golden. he chased you every time you tried to pull away, coaxing you back in, not letting you up for air until both of you were desperate for breath.

“one day,” he mouthed into your jaw, voice no louder than a whisper. “it’ll be us. it will. i’ll be so—i’ll make it—just. i promise.”

“okay, jaem,” you whispered back, hands now fully settled wrapped around his waist. “okay.”

the song shifted into another, and it was one you both knew; both loved. he couldn’t stop smiling even when you halted your soft swaying in place of more energetic, fitting movements, and instead joined in with you—fingers interlocked, his eyes on you the whole time. talks of weddings and proposals and suit colours could easily be discussed another time. tomorrow, if he wanted. it’d been fun entertaining ideas for a while, but tonight, now, he was going to enjoy himself. with you. the only reason he was having those dreams at all.

[fear-is-truth]

imagine… being blackmailed into kai anderson’s cult.

you didn’t join willingly. kai had something on you—and used it to pull you into his cult. every day is a dangerous tightrope walk, a balance of staying in line while quietly searching for a way out. you’re considered a flight risk, and he makes sure to remind you of that fact constantly. there’s no room for negotiation. no one else in the house is an option—his men sleep in the basement, his parents’ room is sealed off (you don’t want to think about what’s in there), and winter, his sister, isn’t trusted with you, thanks to her being a lesbian and kai’s twisted views on her intentions. so, you end up in his bedroom.

sharing a bed with him is like sleeping next to a coiled spider, knowing it could strike at any moment. but he never touches you. months go by, and kai remains physically distant, though his presence in itself is overwhelming enough. he doesn’t need to lay a hand on you to make his power known—it’s in his voice, his stare. at night, you sleep stiffly on one edge of the mattress, your back turned to him, while he sprawls comfortably on the other.

you never really get used to the sight of him half naked, but kai simply doesn’t give a fuck. he’ll swagger out of the en suite, a towel hanging low around his waist, electric blue hair damp and clinging to his forehead. droplets of water still glisten on his skin, and the towel precariously hangs just below his hipbones, revealing the defined v-line of his abdomen and the rock-hard muscles flexing as he moves. it’s a body that was built to kill, to conquer.

it takes every ounce of restraint you have not to let your eyes linger too long.

“how’s your day?” he’ll ask as he reaches for the prescription bottle on the bedside table. “i’m good. you?” you’ll reply curtly. you converse like a pair of roommates who don’t really trust each other, words civil but laced with a mockery of the situation. you’re not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you crack.

but then, one morning, you wake up and realise he’s the one who’s cracked.

you freeze, heart pounding so loudly you were certain kai could hear it even in his dreams. you remember falling asleep on your side, keeping to the edge of the bed, but maybe you rolled over in your sleep, or maybe he had moved closer during the night. the warmth of his body is all around you now, arm slung loosely over your waist, huffs of warm breath against your skin. it’s so natural, so easy, that you wonder if you’ve somehow slipped back into a dream. time seems to hold its breath, waiting for you to react.

you don’t.

for a tantalising second, there’s no cult, no manipulation, no fear. just two people sharing a bed, almost like you’re lovers instead of captor and captive. but you know better. you’ve been in his world long enough to recognise when it’s time to delude yourself. later, when he wakes up, it’s as if nothing happened. he’s the same kai anderson, city councilor, cult leader. you don’t bring it up and neither does he. but the familiarity makes you unable to let go of the suspicion that it’s not the first time he’s held you in his arms.

[anarchistmemecollective]

If the Nuremberg laws were applied, then every post-war American president would have been hanged. By violation of the Nuremberg laws I mean the same kind of crimes for which people were hanged in Nuremberg. And Nuremberg means Nuremberg and Tokyo. So first of all you’ve got to think back as to what people were hanged for at Nuremberg and Tokyo. And once you think back, the question doesn’t even require a moment’s waste of time. For example, one general at the Tokyo trials, which were the worst, General Yamashita, was hanged on the grounds that troops in the Philippines, which were technically under his command (though it was so late in the war that he had no contact with them — it was the very end of the war and there were some troops running around the Philippines who he had no contact with), had carried out atrocities, so he was hanged. Well, try that one out and you’ve already wiped out everybody.

But getting closer to the sort of core of the Nuremberg-Tokyo tribunals, in Truman’s case at the Tokyo tribunal, there was one authentic, independent Asian justice, an Indian, who was also the one person in the court who had any background in international law [Radhabinod Pal], and he dissented from the whole judgment, dissented from the whole thing. He wrote a very interesting and important dissent, seven hundred pages — you can find it in the Harvard Law Library, that’s where I found it, maybe somewhere else, and it’s interesting reading. He goes through the trial record and shows, I think pretty convincingly, it was pretty farcical. He ends up by saying something like this: if there is any crime in the Pacific theater that compares with the crimes of the Nazis, for which they’re being hanged at Nuremberg, it was the dropping of the two atom bombs. And he says nothing of that sort can be attributed to the present accused. Well, that’s a plausible argument, I think, if you look at the background. Truman proceeded to organize a major counter-insurgency campaign in Greece which killed off about one hundred and sixty thousand people, sixty thousand refugees, another sixty thousand or so people tortured, political system dismantled, right-wing regime. American corporations came in and took it over. I think that’s a crime under Nuremberg.

Well, what about Eisenhower? You could argue over whether his overthrow of the government of Guatemala was a crime. There was a CIA-backed army, which went in under U.S. threats and bombing and so on to undermine that capitalist democracy. I think that’s a crime. The invasion of Lebanon in 1958, I don’t know, you could argue. A lot of people were killed. The overthrow of the government of Iran is another one — through a CIA-backed coup. But Guatemala suffices for Eisenhower and there’s plenty more.

Kennedy is easy. The invasion of Cuba was outright aggression. Eisenhower planned it, incidentally, so he was involved in a conspiracy to invade another country, which we can add to his score. After the invasion of Cuba, Kennedy launched a huge terrorist campaign against Cuba, which was very serious. No joke. Bombardment of industrial installations with killing of plenty of people, bombing hotels, sinking fishing boats, sabotage. Later, under Nixon, it even went as far as poisoning livestock and so on. Big affair. And then came Vietnam; he invaded Vietnam. He invaded South Vietnam in 1962. He sent the U.S. Air Force to start bombing. Okay. We took care of Kennedy.

Johnson is trivial. The Indochina war alone, forget the invasion of the Dominican Republic, was a major war crime.

Nixon the same. Nixon invaded Cambodia. The Nixon-Kissinger bombing of Cambodia in the early ’70’s was not all that different from the Khmer Rouge atrocities, in scale somewhat less, but not much less. Same was true in Laos. I could go on case after case with them, that’s easy.

Ford was only there for a very short time so he didn’t have time for a lot of crimes, but he managed one major one. He supported the Indonesian invasion of East Timor, which was near genocidal. I mean, it makes Saddam Hussein’s invasion of Kuwait look like a tea party. That was supported decisively by the United States, both the diplmatic and the necessary military support came primarily from the United States. This was picked up under Carter.

Carter was the least violent of American presidents but he did things which I think would certainly fall under Nuremberg provisions. As the Indonesian atrocities increased to a level of really near-genocide, the U.S. aid under Carter increased. It reached a peak in 1978 as the atrocities peaked. So we took care of Carter, even forgetting other things.

Reagan. It’s not a question. I mean, the stuff in Central America alone suffices. Support for the Israeli invasion of Lebanon also makes Saddam Hussein look pretty mild in terms of casualties and destruction. That suffices.

Bush. Well, need we talk on? In fact, in the Reagan period there’s even an International Court of Justice decision on what they call the “unlawful use of force” for which Reagan and Bush were condemned. I mean, you could argue about some of these people, but I think you could make a pretty strong case if you look at the Nuremberg decisions, Nuremberg and Tokyo, and you ask what people were condemned for. I think American presidents are well within the range.

Also, bear in mind, people ought to be pretty critical about the Nuremberg principles. I don’t mean to suggest they’re some kind of model of probity or anything. For one thing, they were ex post facto. These were determined to be crimes by the victors after they had won. Now, that already raises questions. In the case of the American presidents, they weren’t ex post facto. Furthermore, you have to ask yourself what was called a “war crime”? How did they decide what was a war crime at Nuremberg and Tokyo? And the answer is pretty simple. and not very pleasant. There was a criterion. Kind of like an operational criterion. If the enemy had done it and couldn’t show that we had done it, then it was a war crime. So like bombing of urban concentrations was not considered a war crime because we had done more of it than the Germans and the Japanese. So that wasn’t a war crime. You want to turn Tokyo into rubble? So much rubble you can’t even drop an atom bomb there because nobody will see anything if you do, which is the real reason they didn’t bomb Tokyo. That’s not a war crime because we did it. Bombing Dresden is not a war crime. We did it. German Admiral Gernetz — when he was brought to trial (he was a submarine commander or something) for sinking merchant vessels or whatever he did — he called as a defense witness American Admiral Nimitz who testified that the U.S. had done pretty much the same thing, so he was off, he didn’t get tried. And in fact if you run through the whole record, it turns out a war crime is any war crime that you can condemn them for but they can’t condemn us for. Well, you know, that raises some questions.

I should say, actually, that this, interestingly, is said pretty openly by the people involved and it’s regarded as a moral position. The chief prosecutor at Nuremberg was Telford Taylor. You know, a decent man. He wrote a book called Nuremberg and Vietnam. And in it he tries to consider whether there are crimes in Vietnam that fall under the Nuremberg principles. Predictably, he says not. But it’s interesting to see how he spells out the Nuremberg principles.

They’re just the way I said. In fact, I’m taking it from him, but he doesn’t regard that as a criticism. He says, well, that’s the way we did it, and should have done it that way. There’s an article on this in The Yale Law Journal [“Review Symposium: War Crimes, the Rule of Force in International Affairs,” The Yale Law Journal, Vol. 80, #7, June 1971] which is reprinted in a book [Chapter 3 of Chomsky’s For Reasons of State (Pantheon, 1973)] if you’re interested.

I think one ought to raise many questions about the Nuremberg tribunal, and especially the Tokyo tribunal. The Tokyo tribunal was in many ways farcical. The people condemned at Tokyo had done things for which plenty of people on the other side could be condemned. Furthermore, just as in the case of Saddam Hussein, many of their worst atrocities the U.S. didn’t care about. Like some of the worst atrocities of the Japanese were in the late ’30s, but the U.S. didn’t especially care about that. What the U.S. cared about was that Japan was moving to close off the China market. That was no good. But not the slaughter of a couple of hundred thousand people or whatever they did in Nanking. That’s not a big deal.

Noam Chomsky, around 1990

Fine. Arrest them too!

I don’t think “hey, those other guys committed heinous war crimes just like us” is the own this guy seems to think it is.

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I know you?

Jason Todd X Reader

Synopsis: In the aftermath of a brief Kidnapping, Red Hood seems to think your important and wont stop hanging around your apartment.

Or in other terms, Jason got scared you were gonna die and doesn’t want to leave you alone

Notes: Reader is a waitress at a local bookstore/coffee shop that Jason frequents and he has grown very fond of her. They are vague acquaintances And she does not know that Jason is Red Hood. This is literally my first-ever attempt at a fanfic and Jason Todd has been rattling around in my brain. I might attempt to make this like a short series or something. Anyway, I hope it's enjoyed!!

“I think I have a new favorite stalker,” you say loudly out your open window.

 Keeping your window open in Gotham was probably the worst idea you could ever have but your curiosity got the better of you when started to notice the fleeting red hanging out across the street and occasionally on your fire escape over the past two weeks. At first you were worried considering your recent encounter with Scarecrow as an attempted research rat.

However, the longer the red stayed near the easier it became to recognize. His helmet was shiny, which is what made it so easy to spot him. How that was helpful to a vigilante you didn’t know. Red hood was watching you and you had a feeling it was to make sure you were okay. You had heard of other bats checking on Civilians after traumatic incidents when they could, but every night for two weeks seems a bit excessive and he hasn’t actually talked to you. So what was he doing?

With no response to your jab, you lean out your window and repeat yourself, making a point to stare at the red helmet on the building across the street.

“I said I think I have a new favorite stalker!” You continue to stare him down.

Even in the minimal street lighting you can see his body tense, ready to run.

“Maybe he’d like to chat?” you tilt your head in questioning. You don’t why you asked. You were bad at keeping a regular conversation. If he came over and did, in fact, decide to chat, it might end up a short conversation. 

A clattered thud pulls you from your thoughts and you gaze turns from the opposite roof top to the very large man now standing on your fire escape next to your window. You can’t help but stare at him. 6” something and built like a brick wall. Intimidating even leaning against the building.

Was he this big when he saved me?

“Hi?” is the only response you could muster. The urge to slam the window closed and shut your curtains itches at your finger tips. He stares at you, or at least you assume as much, the helmets white eyes giving away nothing. No wonder people were terrified of Red Hood. You haven’t even done anything wrong and you could wet yourself  right here and now.

“Hi” You don’t know why your shocked to hear the modulated voice. He had talked to when he saved you from Scarecrow but it was still strange to hear. Slightly robotic but definitely a person underneath.

You realize that, maybe, you’ve been staring for too long.

“Tea?” you back away from the window and head for the kitchen expecting him to follow, as well as taking a moment to breath.

You just invited a good/bad vigilante into your home! What is wrong with you?  Your mind is a swirling, anxious debate as you fill your kettle.

“I only have Green tea, I hope you don’t mind.” you yell from the kitchen, unsure if he was even in the apartment.

“Not at all” His voice is close then you anticipated, assuming he stay close to the window.

Instead you turn to find him sitting comfortably at your dining room table, watching you move about the kitchen. He looks out of place in your soft warm toned home. His brown leather jacket the only thing that could blend in. The harsh red bat on his chest sticking out like a sore thumb. Your gaze lingers a moment at the holsters on his thighs, suddenly realizing that if he wanted to do something to you, you were screwed. You turn back to your cabinets and pull out a couple of mugs, pushing away the thoughts. Red Hood was good guy, despite what previous attempts at bad he had in the past. You stand at the counter and stare at your kettle, willing it to heat faster. After a moment, You hear a distorted sigh.

“You wanted to talk?” Red Hood asks

You shrug your shoulders without turning, not entirely prepared for a conversation just yet. Red Hood doesn’t push you. The kettle begins to whistle, and you pour the two mugs, settling tea bags into them. You pick them up and set one in front of red hood, and settle into the seat opposite his, blowing on your tea. You take a sip and promptly burn your tongue, hissing in pain.

“it’s hot”

Your eyes fly up to Red Hood. You choke out a thanks, Having not realized he had taken off his Helmet. You let eye linger across his face, very handsome. A scar on his lips, that rests in a smirk, and another across his cheek. As you eye move up you let out a startled laugh, Another mask keeps his eyes hidden.

“What?” He asks, The smirk on his lips grows.

As your laughing fit slows, you pause to breath.

“You wear two masks.” You pause waiting for him to laugh. All he does is furrow his brows.

“it’s funny” you insist but he doesn’t respond. You settle down again. Well as much as you can considering the man in front of you, staring at your mug, slightly embarrassed

“So I’m your favorite stalker? You got a few?” Red's voice rings out in the silence. It’s rough and deep, like he’d been yelling.

A flush creeps up your face. If you were embarrassed before, you were definitely embarrassed now. It had taken you all day to come up with the throw away comment. You thought It was funny. You also didn’t think you would get this far in your interaction with Red Hood.

“Not really, just the one I hope” you chance a glance at him to find him still unsettlingly staring at you as a he takes a sip of his tea, now cooled. Your mind searches for what else to say.

“That’s good, I wouldn’t want that either” Jason finally breaks eye contact with you, looking around your apartment.

With his stare no longer on you, you take the opportunity to really take him in. Despite the scars on his face, there was kindness there. And despite his intimidating stature, he seemed to pull himself in, like he was afraid to take up space. His forearms exposed through his suit. What a weird design. Not that you were complaining. Overall, Red Hood was hot. You flush at the thought.

“Thank you, by the way” you rush out, “for saving me… it really means a lot”

Jason turns his gaze back to you. You brave up and hold his stare. Suddenly thinking, he looks familiar. You furrow your brows for a moment.

“Do I know you?” You ask before you can stop yourself. You physically cringe and try to back track.

“I mean, obviously I know you, you saved my life and all but I mean like I know your face? Maybe, not that it matters. Course you wouldn’t tell me if I did know your civilian identity because then it wouldn’t be a secret. I just think I know your face but that doesn’t mean that I want you to tell me. And maybe you just have one of those faces…” you continue to ramble some more. Jason watches you carefully and finishes his tea. You pause to breath in your rant and he jumps in.

“Thanks for the tea” he grabs his Helmet, sliding it on before continuing, voice changed, “and your welcome, for saving you.”

You watches as he walks back toward the window, frozen and unsure what to do. As climbs out onto the fire escape you yell out.

“Your welcome and you don’t have to hide outside, you can come in next time.”

He’s gone before even finish the sentence. You sink back in your chair.

What is wrong with you? Why are you so awkward? That was terrible!

You try to push the interaction from your mind as you close the window and go about spot cleaning your apartment. Once done your anxious thoughts return.

This is going to be a long night. You think as you turn into bed.

[sweatyracoon]

Hey:) can you please do a part 2 of Tell me and make it smut

A/n: This is part two to a story I made a while ago, but can be read separately. Enjoy! Thanks anon for the ask! Feel free to suggest more. Part one

Warnings: smut, obviously. Vampire Felix, biting, blood?, pinv, unprotected sex, dom felix, pet names, let me know if I missed anything

It had been nearly a month since you and Felix had the heart to heart, and things seemed to be going smoothly.

His features matured in ways you would have never thought.

He switched back to his natural blonde about a week ago, and you almost felt relief.

Although you didn't mind the black, you had noticed that it affected you in ways you shouldn't be by your best friend.

He was hot.

The black made him look mysterious and sexy. It nearly killed you to look at him, much less be near him.

Today was one of your mandatory hang nights, more specifically, a movie night.

You had found out that he no longer had the same needs as normal people. He doesn't sleep, but can force himself to for a short period of time.

He doesn't eat like he used to. He found that yes, he needs blood, but not often. And when he eats, he takes a few bites before feeling full. He can walk in the light, but it makes him a bit weak, like muscle aches.

It had been surprisingly easy to accommodate these new discoveries. And he had been so grateful to you for being so accepting.

He was sitting on the couch, his blonde hair peaking from above the head rest. You smiled as you walked around to join him, a bowl of popcorn in your hand.

"Ready?"

He grinned at you, his eyes shimmering from the blue light.

"Yep!" He barked, snuggling against you after you got comfortable.

You pressed play, watching the beginning with interest.

The movie was barely forty minutes in when you felt Felix tense against you. He felt colder than normal all of sudden, even under the blankets.

"Felix?" You turned to look at him, seeing that he was avoiding your gaze.

"Lix, what's wrong?" You went to reach for him, but he flinched, making you stop.

"Don't." His voice was deeper than usual, rough around the edges.

It almost sounded like a threat.

"Felix what's wrong? Remember, you promised you wouldn't shut me out," you whispered, unsure of what was wrong all of the sudden.

He sighed before drooping his shoulders, still not looking at you.

"I lied the other day. I-" His voice cracked. "I wasn't able to feed on Thursday."

Your eyes widened, your blood running cold. Wasn't that needed for him to stay sane or something? You weren't entirely sure what would happen if he didn't feed, and he wasn't either.

It was still entirely new.

"So what's wrong now? Are you hungry?" You asked, turning your whole body to him. He had your full attention, even if the movie was still playing.

"Yes, but that's not all," he gulped, looking at you finally.

You gasped, seeing the bright red hue in his eyes. They almost seemed to be pulsing, as if they glowed in the dark.

"I felt the blood going through your arm...when I was laying on you. It was weird." He frowned, wanting to look back to the tv.

Suddenly an idea popped in your head, thinking you might be able to help the poor guy out.

"Have you fed from a human?" You asked.

His eyes blew up. "Uh...Kinda? Bang Chan, he's like me, and he let me bite him. But other than that, just animals," He cleared his throat, his eyes getting brighter by the second.

"Do you want to feed from me? Do you know when to stop?" You tilt your head, watching him freeze like a deer caught in headlights.

"What? No! I don't want to hurt you,"

You blinked. You didn't think about that.

"It hurts?" You couldn't stop the words from leaving you. You cringed.

"Well, Chan said it felt really good when he bite people, but it doesn't have the same effect on him."

"Bite me then," you giggle, shoving your wrist to his face, making him recoil.

"I've never fed from a person. I can go out real quick so we can still have movie night-" he was stuttering at this point and you just wanted him to stop and breathe.

As you listened to him, you brought your nail you where your shoulder and neck meet, scratching just hard enough to break the skin.

Even though it didn't breach your skin yet, the sudden smell of the iron liquid reached Felix's nostrils, igniting something within him he didn't even know was there. His eyes darkened, and before he could stop himself, he was on you in seconds.

You let out a yelp of surprise, now on your back with Felix straddling your hips, locking you in place.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck, and you heard him breathe in deeply, wanting to burn your scent in his memory.

You heard his jaw clenching beside your chin, and you took a deep breath.

"It's okay, Felix. I want it," you breathed. You didn't know entirely what it is you wanted, but he got the idea, latching his teeth into your pulse point.

It hurt at first, the pierce through the skin, his sharp teeth cutting through the many layers of skin. But once he got deep enough, it turned into a cooling heat that then turned into a flame, one that burned hotter with each passing moment.

The shock ignited the pooling arousal in your abdomen, and you let out a moan into his ear.

He growled as he knawed at your neck, squirming above you. You could feel his hardening cock through his sweats, your mind reeling at the thought of him inside you.

He groaned, finally pulling away from your neck to look at you.

His eyes had gone back to their natural color, and his face was flushed. His breathing was heavy, and his lips stained red with your blood.

He looked like an angel.

"You okay?" He asked softly, bringing a hand to rest on your face.

You nodded, unable to speak all of the sudden.

Your gaze blurred, your mind fuzzy.

He seemed to have caught on, hearing the small whimpers emitting from your throat.

"Whats the matter, honey? Can't talk? Did it feel that good?" He cooed at you with a grin, rubbing circles on your cheek.

You sniffled, nodding in response, nuzzling into his touch.

"Can I, y/n? Can I touch you?" He whispered, staring into your eyes deeply.

His free hand rested on your waistband, gently messing with a stray thread.

"Please, lixie," you mutter, suddenly hotter.

You lifted your hip gently, the skin of your torso meeting his cold fingers. You sighed at the contact, tilting your head back slightly.

He watched in awe as he pushed his fingers under your clothing, his index and middle finger playing with your folds before flicking your clit. You groaned, your arms coming to grasp at any part of him that you can. Your left hand found purchase on his forearm, your grip tight. The other fisted the fabric of the couch, scratching roughly on your skin.

“More, lix. Please…” you breathed, loving the way he touched you.

He said nothing, but showed that he heard you by shoving two fingers deep within your sopping cunt, pushing at a fast pace. Though his hands looked small, they seemed to be finding your g-spot immediately, grinning as he abused that sacred spot,watching as you let out louder moans. He forced himself down to catch your lips in his, sucking the air out of you as he continued to finger you, curling his fingers every other thrust. He brought his other hand to rub roughly at your clothed nipples, feeling them harden under the fabric.

“Want me to fuck you, y/n? Just tell me the word and I’ll take care of you, love. Let me take care of you,” he all but begged, sounding fucked out before even undressing.

He loved the way you clenched around his fingers, pulling him in, not wanting him to leave. If Felix had it his way, he’d never let his fingers leave from you. And if you wanted it to be his cock instead, who was he to deny you?

“Yes! Please Felix!” You moaned, your stomach doing somersaults as it begged for release. You whined as h pulled his fingers from you rather quickly, and watched as he fumbled with his sweats. He rushed to pull them off, nearly falling from the couch in the process, making you giggle at him. It quickly died down once you saw him.

He sprung out of his pants, a loud thud emitting rom where his cock hit his stomach. You nearly let yourself drool at the sight of him.

No other guy has made you feel this way about his cock, but boy was Felix beautiful. What he lacked in length, he made up for in girth, almost looking like the stretch would be painful. But you’d take it. You needed it. Almost as much as he wanted it.

He grabbed the bottom of his shirt, bringing it up to bite, showing of his abs. You moaned just from the sight of them.

“You sure you want this? We can stop…” he mumbled with the tee between his teeth. His eyes shimmered in the dim lighting, looking as if he held stars in his eyes.

“Yes I’m sure, lix. I just have one question…” you smiled at him. “Could you…bite me again?”

His eyes widened at first, but he felt himself twitching at the thought. Your blood was certainly way better than that of an animal. Yours was more fresh and almost electric with the way your adrenaline spiked. It was almost like his own alcohol just walking around in the apartment. He was head over heels for your taste, plus his long term crush on you.

He relaxed before placing himself at your entrance.

“Of course, baby,” he pushed in slowly, watching your back arch off the sofa.

He quickly came down to latch onto your neck, sucking, hoping to ease the pain with the pleasure of the bite.

It seemed to calm you down, because shortly after that, with each draw he took from you, your moans became louder. He started to move, cursing himself suddenly. Drinking from you was enough to make him finish, but he didn’t want to finish before you. He pulled his mouth back, looking you in the eyes as he picked up the pace.

Once again, his lips were stained with your blood, the amount a lot more than previously, making droplets form, and threatened to fall with each thrust. He hit deeper, pushing harder against you causing slapping sounds to echo the room. You both grunted with one another as each of you closed in on your high.

You felt the knot forming in the pit of your stomach, watching as his eyes fluttered shut as he rammed into you as if he never would have sex again. He wanted to make it last. He found that he was struggling just to not cum from staring at you. He loved how helpless you looked right now.

You finally felt the knot snap, your high washing over you like a ton of bricks. You shivered as he continued, your walls clenching around him desperately, wanting to absorb his delicious cum.

One droplet of blood finally parted from his lips, landing onto your own. He watched as you stuck your tongue out to taste yourself, moaning at the flavor. The sight of you tasting your blood finally made him snap. His cum shot out in spurts inside you, riding out his high until he was shaking from overstimulation. He collapsed onto you for a few seconds before pulling out, making you whine. He grinned, pulling his shirt of all the way.

“One second,” he muttered, cleaning you both before pulling the blanket over you both once more. “How are you feeling? Did I take too much?” He nuzzled into you, trying to make sour you weren’t uncomfortable.

“No, I’m okay. I don’t feel any different,” you responded with a yawn. Your shoulder aches slightly, but you deemed it worth it.

“You might not feel that way later, though!” He whined, pawing at your hands.

You giggled as you saw the ending credits to the movie you were supposed to watch.

“Good thing I took the next two days off!”

[hanjisungslag]

hiiii!! so sorryyy idk if you take requests BUTT could you do headcannons of being in an argument with the aot characters?

🗣️ aot characters & arguments

characters involved: eren, armin, mikasa, connie, jean, sasha, reiner, annie, bertolt, erwin, levi & hange

notes: i do take requests indeed!! :3 i luv angst, i hope this is gd♡

✧ eren jaeger - 

okay, when you guys argue it’s honestly more cute than anything because you’re both so protective of one another. neither of you wanted each other to join the scouts because it was so dangerous but, you both joined anyways obviously. oh my god, you guys non-stop bicker when there’s a mission! and don’t even get me started if you get put into different teams😭 you start TWEAKINGG. after he finds out he’s the attack titan, oh it gets 10x worse. his absolute biggest fear is losing control and hurting you - he’s already so conflicted, confused & felt like an outcast. he definitely lashes out more and becomes snappier than usual but, it does come from a place of sincerity.

when this happens, you just leave it be. as soon as it’s not just bickering anymore, when a voice is raised or an insult is made, you just leave it. you understand he’s going through a lot and just needs a minute but, TRUST ME! when you walk off, you make sure it is known that your feelings are hurt.

“i said no! you are not being on my team! im going with the levi squad, thats final.”

✧ armin arlert -

you both love each other very much but, goddamn you’re both so up your own arses! you are the ‘smart couple’ you are both strategic and witty and have your own way you go about things. so, when it comes to deciding whose plan is better, you always think yours is better and admin thinks his is better. this has (and probably always will be) the main root of your arguments, tbh. nobody likes to get involved either because if someone picks a side then even more havoc will break lose. the only people who’ve ever come between you two is: mikasa, levi & erwin.

it’s just like a debate, you know the ones on jubilee where it’s just people speaking over each other with different facts and sources? literally you two. you both would keep going until the end of time if you didn’t need to sleep, eat and drink water. it’s never that serious at the end of the day, you both love each other and i GUESS you can appreciate each others plans albeit you both think yours is better.

“if you actually listen to me when i say, my layout is better! look at how easy it is to manoeuvre from the castle to the forest!”

✧ mikasa ackerman -

wash the damn scarf. that is all you ask of her. she has literally never washed it and you love but jesus christ, stink LINGERS. not only do you think it’s weird she doesn’t wash it but, it’s also from eren… now, you know mikasa’s lore, of course. however, it’s really hard to get over your girlfriend having this deep love for this smelly scarf that her ex-crush gave to her after he literally saved her from being kidnapped. at first, you try to ignore it but it gets to a point where you sit down and talk to her but, she is not having it. she clearly cares very, very deeply for this scarf and will defend it. it’s really awkward conversation that slowly turns into raised voices and some opinionated things being raised.

“why are you getting jealous over a scarf? that’s so stupid! i just have fond memories with it!”

✧ connie springer -

again, not so much major arguments but just bickers. it usually starts as a joke but slowly but surely divulges into an argument about something stupid. one time, someone ate the last of jean’s meal that his mum made for him and he saved until today, obviously he was super upset and jokingly you blamed connie. at first, all was well, laughs were being heard and he even poked fun at you but, somewhere along the way it became more serious for you two, you genuinely suspected connie of eating jean’s meal and connie was getting visibly more upset.

“that was so not me! why are you telling them that?! i didn’t eat it, y/n!”

jean regretted asking who ate his food.

✧ jean kirstein -

jean is unfortunately a jealous guy. not for any malicious reasons, he’s just a bit insecure gang! he’s more scared that you’ll leave him for someone ‘better’ more than anything but, these feelings of insecurity manifest as jealously. he’d get jealous over you spending time with people like eren, mikasa or armin. in so many aspects, they’re better than him (in his eyes) and this will just make him reallyyy pissy. being in an argument with jean is painstakingly ambiguous like he never straight up says it, it’s always sly remarks or dry responses from him for a while. eventually, you know something is up and question him but he will avoid answering like the plague and it’s just so, so frustrating! eventually, when you break your calm demeanour, he will also break his ‘nonchalant-ness’ and just shout about how he feels.

he crossed his arms, “i just don’t understand why you need to be around him so much, you have me?”

✧ sasha braus -

absolutely nothing. i’m sorry but, she is too sweet and loving. IM SORRY, i’m sorry… i tried so hard to think of something but this queen is too perfect. at most, she would snap at you in high stress situations but she would never turn it into an argument. for example, if you told her to slow down her eating because you’re going on a mission but, she hasn’t eaten much that day she may snap and tell you to “let her do what she wants” but, she’s sooo quick to recover and apologise. literally not even giving you a second to even think about arguing with her!!

“ah, i’m sorry. you’re right, i don’t wanna be sick while flying through the air, huh?” she pouts.

✧ reiner braun -

you’re both from marley, you know damn well what you’re doing here but it seems reiner is straying off path. you’re there to try and remind him why you’re there and this leads to so many arguments. his split personality also plays a role in the arguments because it’s so.. scary and confusing for you because one moment he’s defending eldians than the next, he’s shouting at you about how he ‘knows the plan’.

when talking about stuff like this, since it’s extra sensitive for reiner he definitely flips out. i’m talking shouting, angry grunting, clenching his fists into balls and holding them against his forehead so he doesn’t fully crash tf out. he’s just as confused and scared as you are about his split personality but, he doesn’t want to seem weak or to seem like he’s losing sight of what is ‘right’ - it gets him really worked up. obviously, you stand your ground against him, he doesn’t scare you when you’re arguing. you’ve known him for so long.. you feel like he just needs to be guided.

“when did i ever say i liked them? yes, they’re okay people to be around for now but— no, i never said that! i know what they are, you don’t remind to tell me, y/n!”

✧ annie leonhart -

just the fact she’s cold and distant, it makes it really hard to actually have a relationship with her. at first, she was closed off COMPLETELY but cracks began to show and eventually, you thought you were at a good point with each other but, you kind of realised you didn’t know that much about annie. you try to ask questions to get her to open up but, she is one tough egg to crack so eventually, you just ask! hoping to help her more than anything but, this leads to an argument…

after this first argument, it became pretty regular like once every few weeks this would happen. you get super frustrated because she acts like she doesn’t even care! so, you’re shouting and getting really passionate while she sits there, looking pissed off and bored, rolling her eyes and scoffing. she doesn’t see the need to open up to you, she’s done what she thinks is ‘enough’ in her books.

“what do you want me to say? i’m not an open book, that’s just how i am. we’re all gonna end up dead, anyways.”

✧ bertolt hoover -

sigh… oh bert. every time you feel yourself developing further into your relationship with bert, his friends seem to pull him back. you’re still not quite sure why and they always seem to be giving side eyes or glances when he talks about his life - its starting to piss you off, rightfully so. you feel like he’s got two other side hoes watching yours and his every move! you being this up in subtle ways as to not seem like a crazy, jealous partner but eventually you burst and tell him how you really feel.

arguing with sweet bert isn’t fun because you can tell he tries so hard to please everyone in the situation, whether it’s you, him or now in this case, his friends too. he will raise his voice but, not in a bad way just in a general sense, things are getting heated, his voice will raise and he will fling his arms and hands. he’s a very expressive man when arguing because he is so passionate about it.

“y/n, they’re my friends! they’re just trying to protect me, why are you jealous?”

✧ erwin smith -

there’s so such things as arguments in your relationship, erwin likes to call them ‘mutual disagreements’ as your both in the scouts, he knows your time is limited. it’s a morbid and pessimistic way to think but, you have to be realistic when you live such a deadly lifestyle. he doesn’t want to take your time together for granted - plus, he’s a MAN like, he is calm and collected and will always hear you out.

you both start off calm, having a mature conversation about whatever it is that is bothering you but, when you start getting rowdier that’s when erwin quells the flames quickly. he takes a deep breath, hears you out and calmly walks you through it all. he’s so compassionate about it, i cant omg. he’ll gently place a hand over your own hand or on your shoulder if you’re standing, letting you know he’s present, he’ll sweetly talk you down, eventually calming you down and usually you’ll both say apologises or just general sweet statements and move on!

“i’m sorry, y/n. no, i’m glad you talked to me about this.”

✧ levi ackerman -

oh lord, being in an argument with levi ackerman is nawwtt fun. i’m sorry but, i’d kms if i argued with levi 😭. this man has such an awful resting bitch face as it is but, imagine his face when he’s arguing with you? IF LOOKS COULD KILL. he cant hide his emotions, so when you’re arguing even if he’s trying to be somewhat nice, his face says it all. usually he’ll roll his eyes and scoff if it’s something minor, he’ll hear you out, maybe give a half arsed apology or some sort of nice gesture to make sure you’re not upset however, if it’s a big issue oh brother…

silent treatment, i fear. he is so bad at communicating his feels correctly and often feels confused because this mf ain’t been in love before?! it gets too a point where he’s so mad, he just cant even begin to think of anything to say to you. you’ll be there raising your voice, becoming so passionate and when you ask what he thinks, he’ll say “i have nothing to say.” then boom, silent treatment. however, he’s bad with his words… but good with his actions. he still wants you to know he cares, you two could be in the most rancid moods but, you’ll go to your room and find your clothes ironed and folded🥲.

✧ hange zoë -

oh my sweet hange, my probably neurological challenged sweet hange… an argument with them would definitely stem from them spending more time with titans than you. when sawney and bean were around, you weren’t getting ANY time of day with them, trust. at first, you didn’t want to say anything because of course, you understand! the lifetime you guys are living in, things like hange’s research is soo important but, you can’t help but feel neglected sometimes.

when you finally bring it up, an argument ensues. neither of you really shout or anything, it’s just that kind of weird sort of raised, high pitched voice people get when you’re really frustrated. you both stay relatively calm for the situation you’re in but, you can totally tell you’re both so frustrated because hange just doesn’t see the problem. when you guys argue like this, it usually just goes in circles and after a while you both decide to mutually give up and leave it for another day.

“it’s all for science and the greater good of humanity though, i don’t understand?”

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Marina; Tucker is having a normal one. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Uh, should we be worried about all that back there?” New Ecto-Boo asks, looking skeptically back at the GIW agents they’ve already passed–and also looking really fucking hot, still, and on top of that being fucking easy about his flying in a way that Tucker usually only sees in the older and stronger ghosts and spirits–note to self–and definitely more graceful than Danny ever is, but also, like–heavier and more deliberate about it, somehow? Like, Danny flies like he’s in zero G and controlling his momentum with a bit of ecto-powered propulsion as he makes his way through the vacuum of the world. This guy flies like he’s moving the world around him; like he’s got it all in his grip and he’s just spun his destination right to him. 

Possibly he’s literally doing that, considering? That might actually be a thing, yeah, given the whole nature of weird ghost powers being weird ghost powers. 

Okay, yeah, Tucker apparently will be finding this situation hot. On top of how hot he already found it, will he be finding it hot. 

His ideal future ghoulfriend is a situation, at this point. 

“Yeah, no, it’s cool, they’re just seeing horrifying specters from another dimension,” he reassures Haunted Heartthrob, patting his–still wet and naked–chest again with his free hand. Said chest is also still kinda ecto-glisteny, but at the same time looks sort of, like, weirdly iridescent under the subtle green glow of the remaining ecto on it? Like, not full-on “so like are a few of the GIW scientists just reeeeeally into Twilight or what?” levels of it, but still, it’s definitely noticeable as a thing. 

Another note to self, Tucker thinks, and taps some observations into his PDA in coded shorthand. By which he mostly means “uses the most illegible font he has installed scaled down as tiiiiiny as it can get in a real light text color”, but same difference. 

Also much funnier to watch Vlad rant and curse about not being able to “decode”. Like so, so much funnier. 

He has literally never even tried changing the font, much less the text size. Tucker has no idea how the dude can be so smart and so stupid, but that’s kind of a specialty of Vlad’s at this point anyway. 

“Uh,” the Honey Pot Poltergeist says, slanting him a wary look. 

“Oh, I mean they’re seeing horrifying specters from another dimension in, like, a faked-by-my-superior-tech way, not like I cursed them to Lovecraftian insanity,” Tucker reassures him, wagging his PDA at him in clarification. “I just can’t get into that dude’s writing, for one. Also do you know what he named his fucking cat?” 

“Literal fucking hate speech that I have no desire to be repeating, last I heard,” Spectrally-Sexy/Just-Passed-The-Shitty-Person-Test snorts, making a face. 

“Correct answer, good job,” Tucker says approvingly. It wasn’t actually like, a trap or anything, but he was maybe testing the waters a little, sue him. Like, just checking for red flags early, that’s all. He’s not sure if the guy’s fully white or maybe, like, a little bit mixed with a bit of East Asian, he’s not an expert or whatever, but being white-passing mixed doesn’t rule out the possibility of red flags, so yeah. Or, like, being literally anything, admittedly, because some people are just fucking asshole. “Hey, hang a left at the next hallway, would you? Looking for a hot goth in a black crop top and a vegan leather miniskirt.” 

“So like plastic, you mean,” his new sweethaunt says dryly.

“Yeah the whole ‘you know ethically-sourced leather is actually better for the planet and less wasteful than pleather, right?’ thing was not a happy realization for her,” Tucker confirms.

[call-sign-jinx]

Theodore Nott X Reader - What of it?

summary - you and theo were best friends. but when you both got accepted into hogwarts but sorted into different house. you made a promise to each other to stay together. after theo made new friends he broke his promise. now you and theo compete against each in quidditch and academically. until he badly hurts you in a match. will he change his ways? or stay the same person he now is?

warnings - the war did not happen, arguing, mentions of injury, mentions of hurting, slight hufflepuff hate, fluff

Main Masterlist Theodore Nott Masterlist

a/n - this is based off of this ask, hope y'all enjoy becos i LUV this idea. ta ta my lovelies! xx

theodore nott x fem!reader

Nott and I had a history. We used to be best friends. Our houses were very close to each other growing up. And we were both accepted into Hogwarts when we were 11. He had run to my house and banged on the door 'til somebody answered to see if I had gotten a letter as well. We were so excited to go to school together. We hoped, prayed and begged that the universe would put us into the same house as soon as we were in the castle.

When Nott was placed in Slytherin and I was placed in Ravenclaw, we both promised each other we'd still hang out together every chance we could.

We both kept our promise. Until he became close friends with Malfoy. That's when the time he'd spend with me began to fade into less and less amounts. Until we never saw each other outside of lesson.

Now, I'm glad he didn't keep his promise. He's turned into a right dickhead ever since he became friends with Malfoy. We're in 7th year now, he hangs out with Malfoy and his lot. And I'm friends with the Weasley twins, Luna Lovegood and Delilah Halifax from my Quidditch team, we also share a room along with Luna. Although I only have 4 friends, I'm fine with it. I like when my circle is small.

It's lunchtime in the Great Hall and all of us are sat together. Although we're only supposed to sit at our House tables, the twins sit with me, Luna and Delilah at the Ravenclaw table. Delilah couldn't have lunch with us today, she decided to get some extra practice before the game later today.

"So Y/N, you ready to get beat at our Quidditch match on Friday?" I shake my head and laugh at Fred's cocky behaviour.

"That's if we beat Slytherin today first. So you should be the ones getting ready to lose cause Slytherin is an easy obstacle to get over." Fred and George mock fear and huddle together. That's until they both had disgusted looks on their faces.

I turned to see who they were giving dirty looks to, and it was perfectly understandable. It was Nott, Malfoy and Zabini. Nott and Malfoy had disgusted looks on their faces while Zabini didn't show any emotion at all. Sometimes I wondered if he was a robot.

"You seriously think you can beat us? We're ten times better than you even if we had only three people on our team." Malfoy laughs at us, Nott along with him. God, they were so annoying.

"That's rich seeing as you got beaten by Hufflepuff last month, and not to be rude to them but we know how bad they are." Malfoy and Nott stopped laughing. Obviously struck a nerve there.

"They cheated, of course they were going to beat us if they were cheating." Hufflepuff did not cheat baring in mind. Nott looked me up and down with utter distaste all over his face. I put my middle finger up at him and turned back to Fred and George.

"It doesn't matter who wins, it's just a game." Luna says to the Slytherin boys, trying to diffuse the situation. They look at her and burst out laughing.

"Oh pipe down Loony Lovegood, go chase some fargles or whatever you call them." Nott's words make Luna look down in embarrassment.

I stand up from the bench and get toe to toe with Nott. I was pissed. I'm fine him picking on me but when he picks on Luna. That's when I get pissed off.

"You better walk away Nott, or I swear to God." I looked at him with pure hate. My nostrils were flared, jaw and fists clenched, my back rigid, shoulders pulled back. He smirked then scoffed at me. What a prick.

"Come on, wasting our time on freaks like them." And with that, they turned away from us and walked to their table. I sat back down with Luna and the twins, and fake gagged.

"Cannot believe I used to be mates with him." The twins laughed while Luna smiled and then continued reading The Quibble.

"I can't either, you're the complete opposite of him. He's a massive dickhead, and you're not." I laughed at George's statement. But when I actually thought about it. I always wondered how and why he became like this. I mean, a lot can happen in 7 years but he changed drastically in the first year and has stayed the same since.

-------------------------------------------------------

It was 5 minutes before the match started between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. I was quite nervous, I really wanted to win this game. I had my broom in hand and was practicing my breathing techniques to calm me down. I felt a hand on my shoulder and it was Delilah, one of my closest friends on the Quidditch team.

"You're going to be amazing Y/N, don't freak out. You're literally one of our best players." I gave Delilah a tight lipped smile and that's when I heard the music, signaling for us all to come out and onto the pitch.

Ravenclaw flew up first and we all took positions, I was a beater. Then Slytherin followed and did the same, Nott was a beater as well. I just knew he'll try to pull the little trick he did our last match against each other.

Last match, he got one of the Slytherin girls to put a jinx on my broom, causing my broom to try and throw me off of it, but I had a firm grip and luckily I didn't go flying.

The whistle blew, starting the game. I still couldn't get control of my breathing, I don't know what was wrong with me today. I focused as much as I could.

The game was going quite well for us, the score was 50-30 to Ravenclaw. To put it simply we were winning. No one on our team had gotten hit by a bludger, pushed off their broomstick or anything like that. Yet.

I saw a bludger going straight towards Delilah so I flew over to her as fast as I could and successfully hit it in a different direction. She nodded her head at me with a smile but the smile soon turned to fear.

"Y/N! Look-" Before she could finish her sentence I was hit in the head very hard with something and was knocked clean out.

--------------------------------------

I wake up in the medical wing, I had no idea how I got here and looked around to see if I could ask anyone what happened. Until I saw the twins, practically running to my bed.

"Blimey Y/N we thought you had died. Took a right hit didn't you?" Fred said, with that cheeky smile he and George always have on their faces.

"Did Ravenclaw win?" Was the first thing I said. God I sound like a right weirdo only caring about a game. Fred and George laughed.

"Jesus Y/N, that's the first thing you think about when you wake up?" I gave George a look and Fred elbowed him slightly while trying to hold back a grin.

"But yes, you did win. And Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor as well." I was confused. It's past Friday? How long have I been out for?

"Wait... What even happened? And how long have I been out?" I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head and realised my arm was in a sling.

"Nott hit a bludger to the back of your head. You were out in seconds. Then you went falling and falling and then you hit the ground and you'd be able to hear the sound it made from Luna's house." George explained to me, my eyes widened. What the fuck? I get that Nott and I don't like each other but that is low, even for him.

"And you were out for about 2 weeks. You've never been hurt that long it was like a bloody coma." Fred piped up. He then paused, as if he wanted to say something.

"What? Tell me." George and Fred looked to each other, silently asking each other if they should tell me.

"Nott visited you every day after the match." They both answered in unison. I didn't know how to react. Why would he visit me?

"Did you ever ask him why?" They both shook their head 'no' in unison.

"Didn't want to get a bludger to the head like you did Trouble." Fred's words made me giggle. But the question always stuck in the back of my head for the rest of the day.

Why?

------------------------------------------

It's been around three days since I woke up from my 'mini coma,' as the twins call it. Madame Pomfrey told me that I shouldn't go to Quidditch practice or move my arm until the potion she gave me wears off. Delilah checked up on me whenever she could though, she was very kind.

Luna has been by my side ever since I was allowed to go back to attending my lessons, said she "wanted to protect me." Bless her soul.

She was walking me to my potions lesson, which was second period, because she had a free period and had nothing else to do. While I was walking and checking my bag for everything I needed, she was skipping alongside me looking at the walls and everything around her. She was in her own little world.

When we finally got to the room I had to be in, dread filled my whole entire body. Snape had changed the seating plan and had placed me next to Nott. How wonderful.

I said bye to Luna and walked into the room, Nott was already there. And he was staring at me. God I really hope he doesn't take the piss cause after what he did I won't care that he visited me.

I sat down in my seat next to Nott and got my books and quill out. There was such an uncomfortable silence between us but I did not want to talk to him at all.

Snape began teaching his lesson like usual, until he said that we were making a potion. In the pairs we were placed in. Meaning I was paired with Nott. Could my day get any fucking worse?

We had to make a Wit-Sharpening potion. This is probably what I missed cause what the fuck even is that? And that is when I realised we had to talk to each other.

"You know what to do?" Nott finally piped up. Damn, didn't think he'd actually talk to me unless it was something rude.

"Not at all if I'm being honest." Nott nodded in response. I just stayed sat in my seat and let him make the potion, only passing him things if they were too far out of his reach.

The lesson went by quickly, thank God. And it was also break, so I'd be meeting the twins, Luna and Delilah in our usual spot at the courtyard.

When I reached the courtyard, all of them were already there and my usual seat on the bench was still vacant. Buzzing.

"Hey there girly." Delilah greeted me as she walked up to me and gave me a hug. We both pulled away at the same time.

"First day back going good?" My face answered her question. I looked exhausted and annoyed at the same time.

"Snape changed the seating plan so I have to sit next to the biggest dickhead I've ever had the displeasure of meeting." She immediately knew who it was and let out a slight chuckle.

We both then headed over to Luna and the twins and enjoyed our break. The twins were playing pranks on people, me and Delilah were talking about anything and everything, and Luna was reading an unnamed book. This is how we liked it. Although we were focused on different things, it was still spending time together.

Break then ended so we all had to go to our lessons. Luna and George had DAD, Delilah had Transfiguration, and me and Fred had a free period, luckily.

On our walk back to the courtyard, something popped into my head. And my first thought was to ask Fred.

"Why do you think Nott visited me? Do you think it's just because he felt bad?" Fred raised a brow at me, confused as to why I would even care.

"If you want to find that out, Trouble, you'll have to ask him for that. I groaned. I just wanted to find out without talking to him.

"Why do you want to know anyway? Think he likes you?" Fred gasped and put his hands on his mouth, when he finally took them off his mouth he asked, "Or do you like him?" I slapped Fred on the shoulder and gave him a dirty look. Of course I didn't like him, did I? All I think about is him, but only because he's a prick and all he does is be a dickhead towards me. That's what I told myself anyway.

"I don't know to be honest, it's just... In the past few years, he hasn't cared about a single thing I do. And now I find out he visited me every day while I was in the hospital wing." Fred nodded in understanding and we left it at that.

We finally made it back to the courtyard and sat down on our bench. But, as soon as me and Fred settled down in the courtyard after walking everyone to their lessons, Fred got called to Professor McGonagall's office. Great, he's going to be forever if it's McGonagall. Now I have to spend 2 hours on my own.

I thought I'd just walk around the castle and try and find a new place I haven't been to yet, but I've been everywhere we possibly could go when I used to skip lessons with the twins.

When I turned round a corner, I saw Nott, just leaning against a wall and smoking a cigarette. Gross. That's when Fred's words played back in my head. "You'll have to ask him for that." Maybe I should. Before I could even make a decision my feet were already walking me over to him.

He saw me, put out his cigarette, put his hands in his pockets then turned his body to face me fully.

"What? Want to argue with me bout some-" I cut him off before he could even say something snarky, which earned an annoyed look from him.

"Why did you visit me in the hospital wing?" His face went a shade lighter. He thought no one except Madame Pomfrey had seen him and he had asked her to keep it between them. Then he thought. The twins.

"What of it? It's a need to know basis anyway Y/L/N." With that he turned around and began to walk away. No. Now that I'm here, doing this, he is not walking away until I get an answer. I began to walk at a fast pace to keep up with him.

"Well I need to know, so tell me." It was hard trying to keep up with him, he had such big fucking strides it was hard to keep up.

"No. You don't." It went back and forth like this for around 3 minutes until I heard him groan and was then pushed into an empty classroom. He had locked the door when I had realised we were in a classroom and I was leaning against a desk.

"Why do you want to know so badly? This is the most you've talked to me in years and it's about me visiting you in the hospital wing?" I subconsciously scoffed. Why the fuck was he acting like I had been the cause for the end of our friendship?

"Well I'd have talked to you more if you had let me. But no, Theodore Nott is way too fucking good for me to speak to. You are the reason we stopped talking in 1st year. I tried and tried to keep our friendship, but you were too busy becoming bum buddies with fucking Malfoy. So just answer my fucking question so I can leave." Nott rolled his eyes at me, acting as if I had done something wrong.

"We are not bum buddies." I scoffed at him and raised a brow. I stepped away from the desk and took a step closer to him.

"That's all you got from what I said? God you really have fucking changed. Dickhead." Nott began to get pissed off. His eyebrows lowered and nostrils flared.

"Now just fucking tell me why you visited me." I kept repeating it to piss him off. He ran his hand over his face and looked like he was about to lose it.

"Fine!" His voice boomed throughout the classroom. I took a step back, my eyes wide. I had never heard him shout before.

"You want to know why I visited you? Because I care about you, more than you can imagine and I felt so fucking bad for hitting you with that bludger. I didn't even mean to! And before you ask how come I only just cared now I haven't stopped caring about you. Even when we weren't friends. And it's because I love you! I have ever since start of 1st year." What the fuck? My eyes widened even more and my jaw dropped. Well that was a bombshell and a half.

"I thought we hated each other. And why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Nott laughed, but had a sad look on his face. He took a few steps towards me, we were now toe to toe.

"Because I'd rather you hate me and talk to me, than for you to not talk to me or acknowledge me at all." I felt horrible. All these years. He hadn't hated me, but he had loved me instead. My heart shattered, I had never felt so horrible more than I do right now in my entire life.

"Oh Theo..." I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. I didn't know what else to do. He didn't reciprocate for a few seconds but then I felt him slowly start to hug me back. We stood like that for God knows how long.

We then both pulled away and just looked at each other. I had forgotten how beautiful he actually was. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue-grey. His hair fell perfectly on his face. His jawline had looked like it was carved by angels. He grew up to be bloody gorgeous.

"I'm sorry... Y/N..." Never in my whole entire life had I heard Theodore Nott apologise. Not once. And now the first time I hear it, it's to me.

"I wish you had told me sooner Theo..." My hands move from his neck to the sides of his face. He gave me a small smile and a slight chuckle.

"How could I have told you? I fucked it up for myself. Especially when I said all those things to your friends..." I rolled my eyes, he raised a brow at me in confusion.

"If you just apologise, and actually mean it, then I'm sure they'll forgive you. They don't hold grudges once someone has apologised and realised what they've done." Theo sighed with relief. He looked to the side, as if he was thinking proper hard.

"What?" His eyes come back straight to mine, his face looks like he wants to say something but doesn't know if he should or not.

"So what are we then?" The question took me aback. I didn't know how to answer that.

"Well... I don't know..." I paused, trying to make a plan in my head. "If anything can we just take it slow? Need to wrap my mind around all this." We both giggled. We both looked up to each other and just stared.

I felt myself moving closer to him, and I could see him doing the same. We both paused until our lips were centimetres apart.

"Fuck taking things slow." And with that our lips crashed together. His hands took place on my waist and he squeezed it. My hands were still on his face so I tried to pull him impossibly closer than he already was. My arm hurt slightly, even though Madame Pomfrey told me not to move it I ignored it anyway. The kiss was passionate, but soft at the same time. I think Theo couldn't decide whether to be gentle or not. We both pulled away for air, I opened my eyes and couldn't help but smile.

"I'm sorry Y/N/N, I mean it. I truly am." I hadn't heard that nickname in years. Only Theo used to call me that. It was reserved only for him, I told everyone else who used it the same.

"It's okay Theo, I was just as bad as you." We both laughed and then hugged each other.

Did not think my first day back would go like this.

[superheroandcodlover]

So before i finish the first chapter i do want to clear the relationship that each member of the batfamily has with the reader, so here it goes!

Damian

At first you and him were swore enemies and they would fight all the time behind the rest back since you don't want to lose the image of them towards you as a easy and no problematic kid it was the only way to get some attention but after you finally became a vigilante the thing between you two would calm you found his vulnerable side the side that dick loved and you got attached to him you two would fight often still but it wasn't anything compared to before and then his death happened....and that would cause a lot of things affecting YOU

Dick

He knows you but he doesn't care that much since he just assumed that you would always be there no matter what and he barely said hi to you thinking that you were okay you didn't need him right? you have alfred and the rest they sure love you even thought you were a little stubborn and annoying sometimes

Jason

Jason didn't know much about you like the rest but he did care he was the only one that shared more than a cold "how are you?" with you he tried to ask about your day but he was always busy leading to never really talking much with you just every now and then and your conversations were superficial talks about your day but it never was heart to heart conversation he would just nod and share his day too and then go to work with your dad

Bruce

He was never a father to you he cares about you just not deeply it was a bitter sweet thing since you looked so much like your mother who was a thief and a meta and he didn't do his father duties he left all that to alfred since he didn't know how to deal with you and well he was busy being batman and bruce wayne at the same time you sure understand you were a easy kid never doing anything wrong or asking for anything at all

Stephanie Brown

She is polite to you at least the two times you two meet she doesn't know you really well she just knows you exist but she won't think about you like never she prefers to hang out with the others

Cass

She is silent and you are too so it never was meant to work, just as Steph knows you exist but you are not in his top three priorities or five...or ten but you don't care...right? And you were a good kid for what she heard from Alfred you sure understand

Alfred

It is a father and daughter relationship but you have a problem with trying to make people proud because you feel that if you don't they won't love you, and your family does nothing to help you try to overcome that though so you always cause the least problem and it was kinda weird for a ten year old that just wanted to help

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unwanted 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, bullying, insults, body insecurity, perversion, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You’re used to being unwanted, but a strange man might just convince you that’s a good thing.

Note: this is a sequel to Unsolicited/Unexpected, but with a different reader. This is Lloyd’s sequel. Peaches is flourishing somewhere else.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You run away from the uber and nearly crash into the front door. You scramble to get the keys in the lock as you refuse to look back at the car idling at the curb. You shake as you twist so hard your wrist throbs. You swing inside and just as quickly turn the lock. 

You heave and turn your back to the door. You can't believe what just happened. What he did with you right there in the back seat. Your eyes tinge with hot tears and your nose tingles. 

“What’s it this time?” Derrick scoffs as he appears in a pair of loose grey sweats and oversized hoodie. You can’t tell that he’s been sleeping all day. “You’re such a cry baby.” 

“Nothing,” you turn and drop your bag on the side table. “It’s cold, that’s it.” 

“Sure,” he peels open the bag of chips in his hands. 

You shrug. He doesn’t care. He just likes an easy target. 

You unzip your coat and hang it. You leave your boots on the mat and swipe up your bag. You tramp past him and up to your room. 

You shut the door and throw your bag on the end of your bed. You’re restless. Unsettled by that strange man. Why is he bothering you? Of all people. How did he tack onto you. You’re nothing. You’re insignificant. Maybe that’s why. Just like Derrick, he knows you’re weak. 

Your phone vibrates in your back pocket. You flinch. It’s probably your mom ready to bitch you out about the dishes or dinner. You slip the cell free and check it. Private number. 

You answer, it could be your manager. 

“Hello?” You quaver into the speaker. 

“Mmm, there’s that caked-up cutie,” the gravely purr makes you shudder. “I was just thinking of you. Again.” 

“No,” you exclaim and hang up. You throw your phone and pace around. Why? Oh, maybe it’s all your own fault. 

You’re used to being unnoticed. Being the forgotten one. And for so long, you just wanted to be seen. You dreamed of some guy way out of your league picking you out of the crowd and telling you you’re special. But not like this. No, never this. That man is a creep. 

But who are you to be picky? 

No! No. Don’t do that. You’d rather be alone. The way he talks about you, the way he looks at you, even you can see that he’s no good. He’s just a pervert and you’ve seen enough Tiktoks to know better. 

Your phone vibrates again. You ignore it. That’s your only option. 

You leave your room and your cell. You go down and start on dinner. At least your mom won’t have anything to rant about, but you’re sure she’ll think of something. 

You glaze the chicken breast and put it in the oven. You start on the potatoes, seasoning them and adding lemon wedges to the pan. You slide those on the middle rack and rinse asparagus. The front door opens and closes as you focus on the simple tasks over the complicated thoughts nipping at your ears. 

“Smells good,” your father chimes as he enters, then clears his throat, “oh, your mother isn’t home?” 

“Not yet,” you look at the time. You know she had her office holiday party but it is getting late. 

“Hm, well, put some aside for her,” he says. “Is it almost done? I’m starving.” 

“Yeah, twenty minutes,” you answer. 

He doesn’t say anything else before he leaves. You hear him upstairs as he gets changed then comes back down to flip on the television. Your brother’s surround speakers blare through the other wall as he games on his PC. 

The front door opens again. Your mother’s shrill voice carries through with a gust. 

“Oh, that’s so wonderful,” she preens. “How sweet of you.” 

You put the asparagus in the pan and pause. Who is she talking to? You turn with the spatula in hand and near the doorway. You peer down the hall and see a broad set of shoulders. Wait, you know the back of that head. 

“I mean, much more considerate than my own daughter. She’s never mentioned you,” she touches his chest as you see the smirk on her face. You grimace. 

“I think I spoiled the surprise,” Lloyd says. “We were just talking earlier and she told me to come for dinner.” 

“She did? Well, isn’t that spontaneous. So unlike her,” your mom muses wryly. “Just like having a secret boyfriend. Older too.” 

“What’s going on?” Your dad’s growl wafts through and you shrunk back behind the doorframe and listen with dread. 

How are they not freaking out? This weirdo forty-year-old is just waltzing right into your house. This isn’t happening. 

“Hello, sir,” Lloyd says before he gives his name, “I’m here to see your daughter.” 

“That would explain the flowers.” 

“Scotch for you and wine for the missus, of course,” Lloyd explains. 

“Hm, that’s... top shelf,” you dad comments. Of course, he would care more about the fancy bottle than his own daughter. “Mitch,” he introduces himself. 

Your mom hollers your name, “you have companyyyyyy.” 

You cringe into yourself. How did he do it? How has he escalated everything so quickly? And why? Because you hung up on him? Because you closed your eyes when he-- 

Ew! 

She calls you again. You put your head back and gather what little courage you have. You turn and step into the hallway. 

“I’m just cooking dinner,” you say. 

“Get over here,” your dad demands. You know better than to disobey. 

“So when were you going to tell us?” Your mother prompts. 

“Tell you what?” You look at Lloyd sheepishly as he spins to face you and grins. 

“About us, sweetie,” he holds out a bouquet of pink roses, “oh, shoot, did I get the wrong day? I’m always forgetting these things, you know? I’m an executive and I have a pretty full calendar--” 

“Executive?” Your father echoes. 

Your mother hums, impressed. 

“We didn’t...” you try to summon a lie but you’re speechless. “Ummmm.” 

“I don’t know why you felt you had to hide us,” your mom challenges. 

“I didn’t? What?” 

“Well, it is about time, isn’t it, Enid?” Your dad intones. 

You gape at Lloyd as he shoves the flowers towards you, “these will need some water, sweetie.” 

You reach for them and look between your parents. You plead silently for help. Aren’t they supposed to protect you? Shouldn’t they be concerned that there’s an old man bringing you gifts? 

“Oh, dear,” your mom says, “do put them in crystal. They are so pretty.” 

“Just like her mother,” Lloyd adds. 

“Eh,” your father grunts playfully, “you could at least pour me a drink before you start flirting with my wife.” 

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between: Chapter 6

Other Chapters:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: After returning from a press tour in New York, Glen reconnects with Gabby at a local bar where they meet up with their mutual friends, Tanner and Kayla. The evening is full of easy conversation and laughter, and Glen and Gabby share a walk back to her apartment. The chemistry between them is undeniable, and once inside, they share a tender, intimate moment that deepens their connection. In the quiet aftermath, Glen stays the night, and the two of them wake up together the next morning. As they enjoy breakfast, they open up about their families and childhoods. Glen listens attentively, offering support and comfort. The chapter closes with a simple, quiet moment of companionship as they share a calm morning together, setting the stage for what comes next in their growing relationship.

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Alcohol Use, Making Out, Semi-Nudity (People in their underwear), Mentions of Parental Death, Mentions of Trauma related to car accidents.

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs!

Tag List: @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @teacupsandtopgun @loveatfirsttornado

The plane’s wheels hit the tarmac with a gentle thud, and Glen exhaled a relieved breath. The press tour for Twisters had been exhausting, and though he loved his job, there was something about having a few weeks off that helped him relax. He had a few meetings or appearances here or there, but for the most part, he had two weeks to just enjoy some time off before he started filming his next project. The soft hum of the plane’s engines slowly faded as he made his way through the airport, his body feeling the weight of the past week of travel and interviews.

As soon as he stepped outside the terminal, the cool evening air greeted him, and without hesitation, he pulled out his phone, dialed Gabby’s number, and waited for the call to connect.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said when she answered, his voice low and familiar, a hint of excitement in it. “I just landed.”

"Hey," she responded, her voice a little breathless, as though she'd been holding on to the phone for this exact moment. "Welcome back!"

"Thanks. I’m so ready to see you. What are you up to tonight?"

Gabby hesitated, glancing over at Tanner and Kayla, who were chatting at the table. They were at The Backdoor Lounge, a trendy bar a few blocks from her apartment. It had been their usual spot lately, a place to unwind and talk about life. Gabby didn’t want to assume they would be okay with Glen wanting to crash their night, so she muted the phone briefly.

“Hey,” she said, leaning closer to Tanner and Kayla. “Do you guys mind if a friend stops by?”

Tanner raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smile. “Is it Glen?”

Gabby couldn’t help but grin. She nodded. “Yeah, he just landed and wants to see me.”

Kayla let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, tell him to hurry up.”

Gabby laughed and unmuted the call, her heart already racing at the thought of seeing Glen again. 

“Sorry about that,” she said into the phone. “So, Tanner and Kayla are cool with it. I’ll send you the address.”

Glen’s voice was warm, and he smiled as he replied, “Of course, I’ll be there soon.”

Gabby sent the address to him, her excitement building. 

“On my way,” Glen said, before hanging up.

Gabby pocketed her phone, a happy smile on her lips. “He’ll be here soon,” she told Tanner and Kayla.

Kayla winked. “We knew it was only a matter of time.” Tanner chuckled and raised his glass.

Gabby rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the grin that tugged at her lips. She felt her pulse quicken with anticipation, eager to spend time with Glen after a week of separation. As she settled back into her seat, she couldn’t help but feel like everything was aligning just the way it should.

Glen pushed open the door to The Backdoor Lounge, the familiar low hum of chatter and clinking glasses washing over him. It didn’t take long for his eyes to scan the room, easily picking out Tanner and Kayla near the back booth. He gave them a nod as he walked toward them, but his gaze immediately shifted when he realized Gabby wasn’t with them.

Tanner, catching his confusion, shot him a knowing grin and nodded toward the bar where Gabby stood. She was waiting for the bartender to notice her, tapping her fingers lightly on the counter, looking perfectly at ease in her surroundings.

Glen smiled to himself, feeling a rush of affection. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Gabby didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The warmth in the voice was unmistakable. She smiled, her heart doing a little flip in her chest, and turned to face him.

The moment their eyes met, her face lit up in that way it always did when she saw him. It was as though all the time and distance between them vanished in an instant. She reached out without thinking, pulling him into a hug, one that was just the right balance of familiarity and affection—not too much to stand out, but enough to make her feel his presence.

Glen returned the hug immediately, enveloping her in his arms and pressing a brief, soft kiss to her cheek. The gesture was warm and intimate, but he pulled away just as quickly, not wanting to linger too long in case any fans had noticed him. His eyes softened as he met her gaze again.

“How are you?” he asked, his voice gentle but full of warmth.

“I’m good,” Gabby replied, her smile still lingering from the hug. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, feeling both giddy and grounded by the simplicity of the moment. “It’s really good to see you.”

“Same here,” Glen said, his eyes brightening. “I missed you.”

Gabby laughed softly, looking at him with a mix of fondness and teasing. “Missed me? You saw me less than a week ago.”

“I know,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it feels like longer. You’ve kind of got me hooked on these little moments.”

Gabby’s smile deepened, feeling her cheeks warm at the compliment. She turned back to the bartender, signaling for a drink. “Well, now that you’re here, I think I’ll have something stronger than water.”

Glen raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “I like the sound of that.”

They shared a knowing look before Glen leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “So, what are we drinking tonight?”

That sounds like a great continuation! Here's how you could transition the scene with Gabby and Glen heading over to join Tanner and Kayla:

After Gabby and Glen ordered their drinks, they made their way over to the table where Tanner and Kayla were waiting. Tanner looked up first, his face lighting up when he saw Glen approaching. He stood and extended a hand with a friendly grin.

“Good to see you, man,” Tanner said as they shook hands, the greeting firm and easy. But before Glen could pull away, Tanner pulled him in for a quick hug, slapping him on the back as they broke apart.

“Good to see you, too,” Glen said, smiling at the warmth of the greeting. 

Next, Glen turned to Kayla, who was sitting next to Tanner, her smile wide as she waved him over.

“You, too,” Glen said, leaning in for a quick hug with her.

Glen pulled back and took the empty seat next to Gabby at the table. Gabby made space for him as he slid onto the barstool, giving him a light smile as she took a sip of her drink. Glen could feel the warmth of her presence beside him, and it was a comfortable feeling. They fell into easy conversation as Tanner and Kayla caught him up on the latest gossip in their lives—nothing too heavy, just the little things that made life feel full.

Glen joined in, joking and laughing along, but as always, his attention kept returning to Gabby. When their eyes met for a brief second, he could see the quiet happiness in her expression. He couldn’t help but smile. Tonight felt right, and he was exactly where he wanted to be.

A couple of hours passed, and the lively chatter at the table began to settle. The bar was still buzzing with energy, but it was clear the night was winding down for their group. Tanner and Kayla glanced at each other, then stood up from their seats.

“Alright, we’re gonna head out,” Tanner announced, giving Gabby a friendly smile. “We’ll catch up later, yeah?”

“Definitely,” Gabby agreed, already standing up. “Thanks for a fun night, you guys.”

Kayla gave her a teasing grin. “Yeah, just don’t let him steal you away from us too often,” she added with a wink at Glen.

Glen chuckled. “I’ll try to share her,” he said, the easy camaraderie between them helping put Gabby at ease.

As Tanner and Kayla made their way toward the exit, Tanner turned to Gabby one last time. “Need a ride home, Gab?”

Gabby shook her head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nah, I walked. It’s only a few blocks,” she replied, already feeling the cool evening air starting to settle in as she grabbed her purse.

Before she could finish, Glen spoke up, his voice warm and casual. “I’ll walk her home.”

Gabby turned to him, surprised but pleased. “Are you sure? It’s not far at all.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” Glen said with a smile, holding the door open for her. “I don’t mind. We can make it a little night walk.”

Gabby met his gaze and, without hesitation, nodded. “Alright. I’d like that.”

She smiled as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, the cool night air mixing with the warmth of the quiet buzz of the evening. It was just the two of them now, and the familiarity of being with Glen, the ease of it all, made Gabby feel a little lighter as they began walking down the street together.

As they walked side by side, the evening air cool against their skin, Gabby glanced over at Glen. “So, where’s your car?” she asked, a little curious.

Glen glanced at her, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I dropped it off at my place earlier when I went home to change. Decided to get an Uber here instead.” He paused, shrugging casually. “I figured I’d probably have more than one drink, so better safe than sorry.”

Gabby raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on her lips. “Smart.”

The two of them walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, before Gabby broke it again. “How was New York?” she asked, glancing at him. “You were there for press stuff, right?”

“Yeah, a lot of talk shows, some interviews, that kind of thing. It's a lot of repeating the same questions and answers over and over.” He let out a small chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “But it's always nice when I get to meet the fans after the screenings. That’s the best part, really.”

Gabby smiled at the thought of him being appreciated for his work. “I can imagine. How did it go? The movie?”

“Good. Really good. It’s been crazy, but... well, you know how it is.” He shrugged lightly, but she could see the pride in his eyes. “It feels good to have it out there finally. People seem to be really enjoying it.”

Gabby nodded, genuinely happy for him. “You deserve it. You've worked so hard for all of this.”

“Thanks.” He looked over at her, his expression softening. “And how about you? How’s the whole getting settled in Los Angeles thing going?”

Gabby sighed, smiling a little sheepishly. “Well, I’m starting to feel like I’ve got the hang of it. I mean, I’m still figuring things out. Still have some boxes I haven’t unpacked.” She laughed lightly. “But I like it here. Feels like a place I can... breathe.”

Glen nodded in understanding. “I get that. It's a lot at first, but you'll find your rhythm. You already seem to be doing well.”

Gabby looked over at him, the genuine encouragement in his voice making her smile. “I’m trying. I’m lucky I have good friends here, and... well, you. It helps.”

Glen grinned, his eyes flickering with something warm as he glanced down at her. “I’m always happy to be part of the good things.”

As they walked, their conversation shifted effortlessly from one topic to the next. It felt easy, natural—just the two of them, walking together, getting to know each other better, even in the quiet moments.

Gabby unlocked the door and stepped aside, allowing Glen to follow her into the apartment. The familiar warmth of her space greeted her, but it felt different with him here. She kicked off her shoes by the door, her mind still lingering on their quiet walk as Glen closed the door behind him.

As soon as the lock clicked, Glen turned towards her, a smile tugging at his lips. His eyes softened with something that felt almost private, as though they were the only two people in the world right now.

“You’ve got no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he said softly, his voice low and sincere. He stepped towards her, his hands moving naturally to her waist. His touch was warm, a contrast to the cool air outside.

Gabby’s heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening as she looked up at him. “I missed you too,” she whispered, her words feeling more intimate than she expected.

Before she could say anything else, Glen leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. His lips brushed hers in a tender, slow kiss, his hands gently pulling her closer. It was simple, a soft and sweet moment that felt like the world had slowed down.

But as the seconds passed, the kiss deepened, growing more urgent. Glen’s hands slid up her back, tugging her closer as if he couldn’t quite get close enough. His lips parted and, without thinking, Gabby responded, her own hands reaching up to touch his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath her fingertips.

His kiss deepened further, almost hungry now, as he pulled her in, pressing her body closer to his. 

Glen reluctantly pulled away from her lips, his breath coming in shallow, unsteady breaths. For a moment, his eyes locked on hers, his gaze searching, as if asking for permission without saying the words. But the longing he saw mirrored in her eyes gave him no reason to hold back.

His lips trailed down the side of her jaw, his mouth warm against her skin as he pressed soft kisses along her neck. The feeling of her so close, the absence of her touch for the past week, overwhelmed him in the best way. His hands slipped around her back, pulling her flush against him.

He didn’t want to be this eager, especially so early in their relationship. They hadn’t really discussed intimacy or what they were both comfortable with. He didn’t want to make her feel pressured. But the soft sigh that escaped her lips, the way her hands found their way to the back of his neck, kept him moving.

He pulled away from the kiss, his lips finding the curve of her neck, trailing lower as he kissed her skin gently. The heat between them was undeniable now, but Glen remained cautious, not wanting to cross any lines they hadn’t yet talked about. He pulled back slightly, giving her space, his forehead resting against hers.

Glen pulled back slightly, his breath ragged, but his eyes still filled with desire. “I don’t want to rush anything,” he whispered, his voice low and hesitant. “I just—”

Before he could finish his thought, Gabby reached up and pressed her lips to his, cutting off his words. The kiss was soft, but there was a sense of urgency in it, a silent understanding between them. She pulled back, her hands resting on his chest as she looked up at him with a quiet intensity in her eyes.

“I want this too,” she whispered, her voice thick with sincerity.

His smile was immediate, a sense of relief washing over him, followed by a rush of warmth. He couldn’t help but smile wider as he leaned in to kiss her again, the kiss this time more confident, more certain.

His arm wrapped around her back, pulling her close. With a swift movement, he lifted her into his arms, feeling her body relax against his, the weight of her trust making him feel stronger than ever. He paused, pulling away just enough to look at her, making sure she was okay.

Gabby’s gaze met his, her hands resting on his shoulders, a soft smile playing at her lips. “Bedroom?” she asked, her voice gentle but sure.

A small laugh escaped Glen, his heart beating just a little faster. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little breathless with anticipation.

He began to carry her toward the bedroom, taking careful steps, still holding her close. The connection between them was undeniable, and the energy in the air was electric. Gabby’s arms tightened around his neck, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe.

When they reached the doorway of her bedroom, he paused, looking down at her once more. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice sincere, wanting to make sure this was truly what she wanted.

Gabby nodded, her eyes shining with quiet certainty. “I’m sure.”

With that, Glen stepped into the room, closing the door behind them, as he gently set her down on the bed. The moment felt both tender and charged with the weight of what was to come and they both seemed to know that whatever happened next, they were in this together.

As the quiet intimacy of the moment enveloped them, Glen’s hands gently moved to the hem of Gabby’s shirt. His fingers brushed against her skin as he began to lift it, pausing midway to meet her eyes.

“You good?” he asked softly, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability.

Gabby nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He slid the fabric up and over her head, tossing it gently onto a nearby chair before letting his gaze travel over her. The way he looked at her wasn’t rushed or predatory; it was as though he was taking her in, appreciating her fully. His hands rested lightly on her waist, his thumbs brushing against her skin in soothing circles.

As he began to reach for the button of her jeans, Gabby let out a small, nervous laugh.

“What?” he asked, stopping immediately, his brows knitting with concern.

She shook her head, a playful smile creeping onto her lips. “You’re not real.”

Glen blinked, his expression softening into a bemused smile. “What do you mean?”

Gabby bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before explaining. “I’ve just… I’ve never had a guy check in this much. It’s like you actually care how I’m feeling or something.”

For a moment, Glen just looked at her, his smile widening into something warm and confident. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes.

“Well,” he said, his voice dropping into a smooth, teasing tone, “sounds like you haven’t been with a real man yet.”

Gabby let out a soft laugh, her cheeks flushing as her arms looped around his neck. “Oh, is that what you are?” she teased back, her voice matching his playful tone.

“Guess you’ll have to let me show you,” he murmured, brushing another kiss across her lips, this one slower and deeper. “Then you can tell me.”

As the kiss continued, Glen’s hands moved with deliberate care, helping her out of her jeans and easing her back onto the bed. Every motion was unhurried, his touch reverent, as though he wanted to make sure she felt nothing but safe and cherished in his hands.

“You’re gorgeous, baby,” he whispered against her skin, his voice tinged with awe as his lips trailed softly along her collarbone.

Gabby felt her breath hitch, her fingers threading into his hair as her heart pounded against her ribcage. She didn’t know how she’d gotten so lucky, but in that moment, with Glen’s careful attention and steady presence, she felt like the most treasured person in the world.

Glen leaned back slightly, breaking the kiss as his hands moved to the hem of his own shirt. With a quick, fluid motion, he pulled it over his head, revealing the toned lines of his chest and shoulders. Gabby couldn’t help but let her gaze wander, taking in the sight of him.

Her breath hitched, and she felt her cheeks warm, but before she could say anything, Glen gave her a small, knowing smile. “What? You staring?”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted, biting her lip to suppress a grin.

He chuckled softly, his confidence shining through without tipping into arrogance. “Good. I like it when you look at me like that.”

Still holding her gaze, he slid off the bed and reached for the buckle of his belt, undoing it with ease. His movements were steady, unhurried, as if he wanted to savor the moment. The sound of the belt sliding free and the soft rustle of denim followed as he kicked off his jeans, leaving him in just a pair of fitted black boxer briefs.

Gabby swallowed hard, her eyes involuntarily drawn to him. “Not fair,” she said with a playful pout, trying to keep her composure despite the butterflies swirling in her stomach.

“Not fair?” Glen asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped closer, his hands resting on the edge of the bed.

“You’re… distracting,” she said with a shy laugh, gesturing toward him.

He smirked, leaning down so they were eye level. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re the most distracting person I’ve ever met.” His voice was low and teasing, but the sincerity in his eyes made her heart skip a beat.

Gabby felt her pulse quicken as Glen climbed back onto the bed, settling beside her. His hands slid gently along her waist, pulling her closer as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the earlier playfulness giving way to tenderness.

She nodded, her fingers brushing lightly over his shoulder. “More than okay.”

Glen smiled, brushing his lips across hers in another kiss, one that carried all the unspoken promises of what was to come.

Glen leaned down to kiss her again, slow and deliberate, as though savoring every moment. But just as things started to intensify, he hesitated, pulling back slightly. His hand smoothed along her side, and his gaze met hers with a flicker of concern.

“Gabby,” he started softly, his voice a little husky but steady, “I… don’t have anything with me. No condom or protection. I didn’t plan for this, and I don’t want to assume anything.”

She appreciated his honesty, and the gentle restraint in his words made her chest tighten in a good way. He sat back slightly, giving her space as his thumb brushed against her hip in a soothing motion.

“We can stop,” he said firmly, though the warmth in his eyes didn’t waver. “I mean it. I want this to be about you, not just… the moment.”

Gabby blinked up at him, her mind racing. She could see the sincerity in his expression, the way he was prioritizing her over everything else.

She swallowed and nodded, sitting up slightly against the pillows. “I’m clean,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “And… I have an IUD.”

His brows lifted slightly, surprised by her openness, but he stayed quiet, letting her continue.

“But,” she said after a pause, her gaze dropping to her hands resting on his chest, “I’m not sure I’m ready for… that. Bare, I mean. Even if I know you’re clean.”

Glen exhaled softly and nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“I am clean, baby. But I get it,” he said without hesitation, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’ll never push you.” 

The tenderness in his voice made her heart ache in the best way. Gabby smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips, slow and grateful. 

“Thank you for being so…” She trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Patient? Responsible? Absolutely crazy about you?” he teased, his smirk returning, though it was softened by the warmth in his tone.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “All of the above.”

Glen chuckled, pulling her closer into his arms, their earlier urgency now replaced with a comforting intimacy. “I’ll always wait for you, Gabby,” he murmured. “Whenever you’re ready, you just tell me.”

Glen leaned back slightly, his hand still resting gently on her side, his thumb brushing against her skin in a comforting rhythm. He gave her a small smile, his eyes warm and full of understanding. “Let me grab us a blanket,” he murmured softly, leaning over to the edge of the bed.

He reached for the throw blanket folded at the foot and pulled it over them, cocooning them both in its warmth. Gabby shifted, curling up against him, her head resting on his shoulder as her arm draped across his chest. Glen adjusted slightly, lying on his back to give her room to nestle closer, his arm naturally wrapping around her and pulling her against him.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breaths and the faint hum of the city beyond her window. Glen’s fingers started tracing slow, soothing patterns along her arm, the gesture grounding and intimate without feeling heavy.

“You okay?” he asked after a beat, his voice low and steady.

Gabby tilted her head up to meet his gaze, a soft smile curving her lips. “Yeah,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “More than okay. Thank you, Glen.”

“For what?” he asked, his brows knitting slightly as his thumb continued its gentle path over her skin.

“For… this. For being patient, for listening, for making me feel safe,” she admitted. “It’s just… really nice.”

Glen’s hand paused briefly before he tilted his head down to press a tender kiss to the top of her hair. “You deserve to feel that way, Gabby. Always.”

She smiled against his chest, letting his words settle over her like the warmth of the blanket they shared. After a moment, she spoke again, her tone lighter this time. “So, tell me more about New York. What was the craziest thing that happened while you were there?”

Glen chuckled softly, the tension from earlier melting into a new rhythm between them. “Oh, that’s easy. The hotel had this wild mix-up, and I ended up getting someone else’s room service—twice. Apparently, someone on the floor above me had a thing for caviar and champagne at midnight. But what about your week?”

Gabby’s voice was soft and steady as she recounted a story about her first few days in Los Angeles. She started to recount her story of getting lost during a walk she had taken.

“And then I got lost on the way to this… uh… this coffee shop I wanted to try,” she murmured, her words slowing as her body relaxed further against Glen. “I ended up walking in circles for like… twenty minutes…” Her sentence trailed off, her voice growing faint as her head rested more heavily against his chest. 

Glen glanced down, his lips twitching into a gentle smile as he watched her fight the sleep creeping in. Her fingers, which had been lightly tracing absent shapes on his chest, had stilled completely.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” Glen asked softly, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Mm, no,” she protested weakly, her words slurred. Her eyelids fluttered open for a brief moment before closing again.

Glen chuckled, his hand brushing lightly over her arm. “Gabby, get some sleep.”

She shifted slightly, mumbling something incoherent before tilting her head up just enough to murmur, “Are you gonna stay?”

The question caught him off guard for a split second, and he paused, considering her words. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked softly, his voice steady and warm.

She nodded sleepily, her forehead brushing against his collarbone. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Glen’s heart softened at the vulnerability in her answer, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Then I’ll stay,” he said quietly, his tone firm with reassurance.

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, and she nestled closer to him, her body molding perfectly against his side.

“Sweet dreams, Gabby,” Glen urged softly, his hand resuming its slow, soothing path along her arm.

This time, she didn’t resist. Her breathing evened out within moments, and Glen stayed exactly where he was, holding her close and watching over her as she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

* * * *

Gabby stirred as the sound of a phone ringing cut through the quiet of the morning. Her mind was groggy, and it took her a moment to register that it wasn’t her phone. She blinked her eyes open, noticing the faint light filtering through the curtains and the cozy warmth against her back. Glen’s chest was pressed to her, his arm loosely draped over her waist, holding her close in their sleep.

Glen groaned behind her, his voice still husky with sleep. "Ugh... who’s calling this early?"

Gabby turned her head slightly to glance at him, her voice soft. "Maybe you should check?"

He let out a resigned sigh, his arm slipping away as he rolled onto his back and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. Squinting at the screen, he groaned again, this time more dramatically.

Before Gabby could ask any questions, Glen slid his thumb across the screen to answer. 

“Hey, Mom,” he said, his voice laced with sleepy affection.

Gabby, suddenly aware of their intimate position, turned onto her back and pulled the blanket higher around her, a small smile playing on her lips as she listened to his side of the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m up,” Glen said, rubbing his hand over his face as he spoke. “What’s up?”

There was a pause, and Gabby noticed his lips twitch into a small smile. 

“No, just at a friend’s place,” he said vaguely, his gaze flickering toward her for a brief second before he looked away again, clearly trying to avoid letting anything slip. Another pause, and then he let out a quiet laugh. “No, nothing like that. I just needed a change of scenery.”

Gabby bit her lip, trying not to smile at his attempts to sidestep his mom’s curiosity.

“Listen, Mom, I’ll call you back later, okay?” Glen said after a moment, his tone affectionate but firm. “Yeah, I promise. Love you too.”

Glen ended the call and let his phone drop onto the pillow beside him. He tilted his head to look at Gabby, who was watching him with a bemused expression.

“Your mom sounds sweet,” she teased, propping herself up on her elbow.

“She is,” Glen said with a faint smile. “But sweet and nosy aren’t mutually exclusive when it comes to her.” He shifted onto his side again, propping his head on his hand as he looked at her. “Sorry for the wake-up call.”

“I don’t mind,” Gabby replied, her voice warm. “It was worth it to see you squirm a little.”

He chuckled, his expression softening as he looked at her. “Oh, you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Maybe just a little,” she admitted, her eyes sparkling.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. “What do you say I make us breakfast to make up for it?”

Gabby laughed as she sat up, wrapping the blanket around herself. “Alright, show me what you’ve got, Mr. Movie Star.”

Glen sat up and then got out of bed. He stood at the edge of the bed, pulling his jeans back on and fastening his belt. The soft fabric of the white undershirt he’d worn the night before stretched over his torso, clinging just enough to remind Gabby of how unfairly good he looked even in the simplest clothing.

“You’re staring,” Glen teased, catching her gaze as he straightened up.

“Am not,” Gabby shot back with a playful smirk, slipping out of bed herself. She grabbed a cozy sweatshirt and a pair of leggings from her closet, quickly pulling them on before turning to face him. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Glen chuckled, his voice warm as he motioned toward the door. “Come on. Let’s see what kind of breakfast magic I can whip up in your kitchen.”

“Magic, huh?” Gabby replied as she followed him out of the bedroom.

They made their way to the kitchen, the early morning light filtering through the windows and casting a soft glow on the small space. Gabby slid onto one of the stools at the island, tucking her legs beneath her as she watched Glen take in his surroundings. He stepped toward the fridge, opening it and scanning its contents with a thoughtful expression.

“Let’s see...” he murmured, rummaging around. “Eggs, butter... and not much else.”

“I don’t really do breakfast,” Gabby admitted, resting her chin in her palm.

“Clearly,” Glen said with a grin, moving to inspect the cupboards. “But you do have bread. Eggs and toast it is.”

“Fancy,” she teased.

“Hey, don’t underestimate the classics,” he shot back, grabbing the carton of eggs and a loaf of bread. He set them on the counter before opening another cupboard in search of a pan. Gabby watched him move around the kitchen, his ease and confidence making her smile.

“You look way too comfortable in my kitchen,” she remarked.

Glen glanced over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What can I say? I’m a natural. Now, do you have a toaster, or am I going to have to MacGyver this?”

Gabby laughed, leaning forward to point to a cabinet. “Top shelf. And there’s a frying pan in the drawer under the stove.”

“Thanks,” Glen said, retrieving the toaster and pan.

She rolled her eyes, but her grin didn’t falter as she watched him plug in the toaster and set the bread aside. A comfortable silence fell between them as he cracked a couple of eggs into the pan, the sizzle filling the kitchen. His movements were fluid and precise, and Gabby found herself mesmerized by the simple act of him cooking.

“Do you cook often?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Whenever I have time,” Glen replied, glancing at her. “It’s nice to do something simple every now and then, you know? Plus, I enjoy getting to do it when I can.”

Gabby rested her chin in her hand again, a soft smile on her lips. For someone she’d only been seeing for a week officially and only known for a few weeks before that, Glen already felt like he belonged in her space, like he fit perfectly into the rhythm of her life. The thought was both comforting and a little terrifying, but she chose to focus on the comforting part for now.

When the toast popped up, Glen plated it alongside the eggs and set the dish in front of her with a mock bow. “Your breakfast, m’lady.”

“Why, thank you,” Gabby said with exaggerated politeness, taking a bite. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Okay, I’ll admit it—this is actually really good.”

“I told you I’m a natural,” Glen said, leaning against the counter with a smug grin.

Glen slid onto the stool next to Gabby, his plate in hand, and set it down on the island. Their elbows brushed as he settled in, but neither of them moved away. Gabby couldn’t help but smile as they started eating, the warmth of the morning and his presence making her feel unusually light.

“So,” she said between bites, “do you always cook breakfast for women you’ve only dated for a week?”

Glen smirked, taking a bite of his toast. “Only the ones who let me spend the night.”

Their laughter filled the small kitchen, the kind that came effortlessly when two people were completely at ease with each other. Glen glanced at her, his smile softening as he leaned back slightly on his stool.

“This is nice,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter. “I don’t remember the last time I just sat and had breakfast with someone like this.”

Gabby tilted her head, curious. “What do you mean?”

“My life lately has been go, go, go,” he explained, gesturing vaguely with his fork. “Mornings are usually rushed, grabbing a bagel and coffee and eating it in the car on the way to the first appearance of the day. There hasn’t been a lot of time for, you know, this. Just sitting, talking.”

Gabby nodded, taking another bite of her eggs. “I get that. Life in L.A. can be the same way. Everyone’s always in a rush to get somewhere or do something. But growing up, my family made a point of sitting down for meals together. Breakfast, lunch, dinner—you name it.”

“That sounds nice,” Glen said, his tone thoughtful.

She looked at him curiously. “What’s your family like?”

Glen smiled, a mix of fondness and amusement crossing his face. “Chaotic, mostly. I have two sisters, so our house was always loud. Someone was always yelling, singing, that kind of thing. My mom used to say we were the reasons she started getting gray hair so young.”

Gabby laughed, picturing a younger Glen in the middle of the chaos. “I can see that. So, you’re the youngest? The baby of the family?”

Glen shook his head. “Middle child. Lauren is older than me, and then Leslies younger than me.”

“Ah, the only boy and the middle child. So you’re the forgotten child.” Gabby smirked.

“Nope,” Glen said, popping the “p” as he grinned. “Hard to get forgotten when you’re the favorite.”

“Oh, you were the favorite, huh?” Gabby teased, arching an eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” Glen said with mock seriousness. “Just don’t tell my sisters I said that. They’d never let me hear the end of it.”

Gabby shook her head, laughing softly. “You sound like you had a fun childhood.”

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted, his voice taking on a nostalgic tone. “My mom’s the heart of the family, though. She kept us all together, even when my dad was busy with work. She’s the kind of mom who would pack our lunches with little notes in them, even when we were in high school.”

Gabby’s smile softened. “She sounds wonderful.”

“She is,” Glen said, his expression warm. “What about your family? You said you guys always ate meals together. Were you close?”

Gabby smiled softly as she set her fork down, leaning back slightly against the stool. “Growing up as an only child was... quiet, I guess,” she said. “It was just me, my mom, and my dad. They always made time for me, though. Family dinners, movie nights, board games—I think they wanted to make sure I didn’t feel lonely, since I didn’t have siblings.”

Glen nodded as he finished a bite of his toast. “Sounds like they were great parents.”

“They were,” Gabby said, her smile widening at the memory. “My mom was the kind of person who could light up a room just by walking into it. She was funny, warm, and always had this way of making people feel seen, you know? And my dad... he’s quieter, more reserved, but he’s the most dependable person I know. He’d move mountains for the people he loves.”

Glen listened intently, his eyes fixed on her as she spoke. There was a light in her expression, a glow when she talked about her family.

“It sounds like they raised you right,” Glen said, his voice gentle.

Gabby chuckled softly. “I like to think so. I mean, they had their moments. My mom could be overprotective, and my dad... well, he’d let me get away with things if I batted my eyelashes at him just right. But they balanced each other out.” Her words hung in the air for a moment, and without thinking, she added, “Now it’s just me and my dad.”

As soon as the words left her lips, Gabby froze. Her breath caught, and her eyes widened slightly as if she could somehow pull the words back. She hadn’t meant to say that—not to Glen, not to anyone. Talking about her mom wasn’t something she did often, not because she didn’t think about her but because it was too painful to relive.

Glen caught the brief flicker of hesitation in her expression. He set his fork down and leaned slightly closer, his tone soft but careful. “Gabby?”

Her gaze dropped to the plate in front of her, and she swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to say it out loud, to explain something so deeply personal. But when she glanced at Glen, his expression wasn’t prying or demanding. He was just... there. Gentle.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready,” Glen added quickly, sensing her hesitation. “I get it. No pressure.”

Gabby took a deep breath, her fingers playing with the edge of her napkin. “No, it’s okay,” she said quietly, though her voice trembled slightly. “It’s just... I don’t usually talk about her. About what happened.”

Glen didn’t say anything, just gave her the space she needed. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against her knee. The small touch was grounding, reassuring.

“She died when I was nineteen,” Gabby began, her voice just above a whisper. “She was on her way home from work. It was late, and... and a drunk driver ran a red light. He hit her car and killed her instantly.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Gabby could feel the tightness in her chest as the memories surfaced. She blinked rapidly, willing herself not to cry.

Glen’s hand moved to her back, his palm warm and steady as he rubbed small circles between her shoulder blades. 

“Gabby, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with genuine empathy.

“It was so sudden,” Gabby continued, her gaze distant now. “One minute, she was there, and the next... she wasn’t. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she closed her eyes, taking another deep breath. Glen’s hand never stopped its soothing motion on her back, his presence grounding her in the moment.

“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been,” Glen said after a moment. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Gabby glanced at him, her lips trembling as she tried to muster a small smile. “It’s been years, but some days it still feels fresh, like it just happened. My dad and I... we’ve learned to manage, but there’s always this... hole, you know?”

Glen nodded, his hand slipping from her back to cover hers on the counter. “Yeah. A loss like that doesn’t just go away. But it sounds like you and your dad have each other, and that’s something.”

She nodded, her fingers tightening slightly under his. “We do. He’s been amazing, honestly. I don’t know how he held it together for me when I know he was hurting just as much.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a pretty incredible dad,” Glen said, offering her a soft smile.

“I do,” Gabby agreed, her voice steadier now. “I’m lucky to have him.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling. But it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. If anything, it felt safe—like Gabby had shared something she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying for too long, and Glen had handled it with the kind of care she hadn’t expected.

Glen squeezed her hand gently. “Thanks for telling me,” he said softly.

Gabby looked at him, her eyes meeting his. “Thanks for listening.”

He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “Anytime.”

Gabby felt a small warmth spread through her chest, the heaviness from earlier lifting slightly. It wasn’t often she opened up about her mom, but somehow, with Glen, it felt... okay.

Gabby took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing as she sat back in her stool. Glen’s hand lingered on hers for a moment longer before he pulled back, reaching for his fork again. The quiet between them wasn’t awkward—it was comforting, the kind of silence that didn’t demand to be filled.

She glanced at him as he took another bite of his eggs, his easy smile still in place, and felt a wave of gratitude. Somehow, Glen had a way of making her feel safe, like there was no judgment, no rush. Just understanding.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she said softly, picking up her own fork to finish the last few bites on her plate.

“Thanks for letting me raid your kitchen,” Glen replied with a grin, glancing over at her. “Not bad for throwing together what you had, huh?”

“Not bad at all,” she said with a small smile, her tone teasing. “I might have to keep you around if it means I don’t have to cook.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head. “Careful, Gabby. You keep complimenting me like that, and I might start getting a big head.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but the warmth in her expression lingered. “Oh, you think you don’t  already?”

The two of them laughed, and Gabby felt the heaviness of their earlier conversation continue to lift. By the time they’d finished eating, her plate was clean, and her mood had lightened.

Glen stood first, collecting their plates and carrying them to the sink. 

“Let me take care of this,” he said when she moved to follow.

“You don’t have to—”

“Sit,” he interrupted gently, turning to give her a look that brooked no argument. “You let me stay the night and provided the food. Let me do this part.”

Gabby sat back down with a small shake of her head, watching as he rinsed the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. The domesticity of the moment wasn’t lost on her, and a small smile tugged at her lips.

When Glen turned back around, wiping his hands on a towel, he caught the look on her face. “What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” she said, shrugging lightly. “I just... It’s been a long time since I’ve had a morning like this.”

“Like what?”

“Just... easy,” she said, gesturing between them. “Good conversation, good company. It’s nice.”

Glen’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, leaning his hands on the counter across from her. “I’d say the same,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, the quiet intimacy of the morning wrapping around them like a blanket. Gabby felt her cheeks warm slightly, but she didn’t look away.

Eventually, Glen straightened and checked the time on his phone. “Well,” he said, his tone light, “I should probably get going before your neighbors start wondering who the guy in last night’s jeans is.”

Gabby laughed, rolling her eyes. “Pretty sure my neighbors have better things to do than spy on me.”

“Still,” Glen said, grabbing his jacket from where he’d draped it over a chair, “I should head out. But...” He paused, glancing at her, his expression suddenly serious. “Thanks for letting me stay last night. For letting me... be here. I mean it.”

Gabby nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Thanks for staying.”

Glen hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else, but instead, he leaned down and pressed a quick, warm kiss to her lips. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, her voice soft.

And with that, he headed for the door, leaving Gabby standing in the kitchen with a smile on her face and a warmth in her chest that hadn’t been there before.

[coffin-ramblings]

In your opinion, what makes Andrew's interest in Ashley romantic rather than just sexual? Love your analyses and wanted your expert opinion, bc personally I'm kinda on the fence about it

I am very flattered that you like my analysts and consider me an expert! It is a great honor to be told that.

The first evidence Andrew is romantically in love with Ashley is this dialogue back in Episode 1. This was actually one of the big reasons why I did not check out Episode 2 for a long while because of how fucking weird Andrew is. I already knew he was weird and actually down bad for Ashley, but that moment really shows how deeply fucked up this guy is. What do you mean you think it's too romantic to commit suicide by jumping off the balcony with your sister? Even Ashley thinks he's weird there.

And then he explains that he thinks it's romantic because that'd mean their bodies would be be entangled together and have to be buried in the same coffin. Despite this, he likes that Ashley wants to join him, which wow, okay dude.

We now fast forward to chapter 2, where we get a lot more of incestuous hints from Andrew.

The first obvious one that you will always see is Andrew checking on Ashley because she's obviously in a bad mood having their burglary thwarted and having to talk with, cook for, and eat with their mother who abandoned them, likely sold them out, and wanted them dead. Ashley doesn't want to talk about it because this confirms her desire to sacrifice them and was hoping she didn't have to say it to Andrew, so she is also frustrated he's not picking that up either and being snappy. Andrew then thinks, "I want to hug her until she smiles", which okay, that's innocuous enough, but is then followed by, "I'm not going to do it, it's another thought that I wish I never had." What kind of thoughts do you have that makes you not want to hug your sister and comfort her Andrew? Isn't it a good thing you want to make her happy especially in this really shit day? And why are you blushing at that thought???

After that, you can have Andrew go talk with their mother and have this gem:

While it's easy to think Andrew thinking, "I don't want to grow fonder of Ashley because she's a bitch" if you see this the first time, notice that he starts blushing there. He very much does not want his romantic desires for Ashley intensified, nor does he ever want to be separated from her as we find out later on at the fireplace if you are on Burial route.

And before that, Andrew eats Ashley's mom-and-dad soup despite his obvious reluctance to and his outright refusal in Decay. He is only doing this to make Ashley happy, when the day before, he was holding back from just hugging her to cheer her up because of the fear that intimacy with Ashley will expose his feelings, which is why Ashley is surprised. That is, quite weirdly, a romantic gesture of Andrew.

And finally, no matter how you get Burial Sane, Andrew is still on better terms with her than before their parents died. Sure he's grumpy and aloof, but he still is happy to be with her and he doesn't start blaming her for their situation. This unnerves Ashley because she now realizes that he doesn't "need" her, but he's still hanging around for who knows how long and she can't guarantee he will stay.

It's easy to think that Andrew's feelings for Ashley is just sexual when the main focus has been Burial Questionable and the confirmation that they can have sex in Decay. Sane often gets neglected for being boring, "pointless", and Ashley being "out of character" for not teasing Andrew about the incest vision, but it is still a major route of the game and is worth analyzing. People often miss the main point of the game is that Andrew's and Ashley's (mostly) platonic relationship is already under a lot of strain due to their mutual distrust that the other will betray and/or leave them, Ashley being too stuck in the past in the most obvious form of being attached to Andy, and Andrew being cold to Ashley because he can't be honest with his affection for her. They have to rebuild their relationship as family and friends first before they can have a relatively healthy romantic relationship. Even after that obstacle, the fear of being rejected for their incestuous feelings is very real and valid when they're also family, and if the other leaves them for that or stops being on good terms with them, they are completely alone and/or heartbroken because they have no one left to love them and for them to love back.

This is why Andrew represses his romantic desire for Ashley, and Ashley can choose to stay platonic with him or tell Andrew that they will not have sex. They are both aware this really is not normal, they are most likely going to be rejected because it's abnormal, and they are afraid of what will happen after rejection. They value each other so much that they will be happy to give up their own desires if it means that they can still have each other around. That is also quite romantic, and needless to say, a very common experience for people who have trouble with confessing or never confessed their feelings to the people they love.

If Andrew merely had sexual feelings for Ashley, he can just keep dating and having sex with other women that look like her and move on. Even though Ashley doesn't like it and resents him for that, at least they still have a relationship, which is better than none at all for Andrew. It is much more difficult for Andrew when he is romantically in love with her, and he actively has to hide it away from her in hopes she won't reject him. He tried to make the best of dating Julia to try to get rid of his romantic and sexual feelings for Ashley, but even that is not enough. As seen in the Voicemails video, he needs to imagine Julia's Ashley to say romantic declarations of love to her, but that makes him sad.

On a more meta level, and one a lot of fans forget, is that TCOAAL is a psychological horror game. It is so much more revolting and well, horrifying that Andrew has romantic feelings for Ashley. My revulsion at Andrew was so strong that I stayed away from the game for months, planning to wait until Episode 3 because I want Julia to show up so I can root for her because neither sibling was sympathetic enough for me. If it was just Andrew being very sexually touchy with Ashley, I and many others would have thought he is sexually abusive or he only sees Ashley as a sex doll, and thus find it easier to root for Ashley and hope she leaves him or retaliates against him. But it is way more fascinating and accurate to a codependency that there is no clear abuser-and-victim or good guy and bad guy dynamic, that the siblings are mutually horrible to each other, but also mutually in love and lust for each other. Nemlei makes their romance an integral part of the game's horror, which is a masterful display of her skill as a creator to blend two seemingly opposite feelings into one work of art.

[starsfic]

The Other Side

Summary: A wealthy business owner must convince the survivor of his recent death games to play again over drinks. Notes: This is a blend of "The Other Side" and the ending monologue, so sorry if some of the dialogue is weird. Ao3/Ko-Fi

The large manor was quiet. It was also nestled in the countryside, far from any towns or cities, meaning it was isolated. As screams rose up from the building, once shiny and now worn down with age, nobody would respond.

Pounding footsteps echoed through the courtyard before the grand doors threw open, revealing a panting adult. They were wearing what had been a fine grey suit, which was now torn to shreds and covered in sweat, blood, and ash. Their dark curls stuck to their skin. They gripped their side and the satchel resting against it, one leg dragging behind them, as they sprinted to the road.

There was no visible sight of… anyone, not even the watchmen that had popped up at one point. The adult bit back a sob at the realization before looking around. There had to be something, some way to escape-

Horses! They had been brought here by carriage-

The adult sprinted to the stables, uncaring about their limp or the clinking sound their satchel made. It took a few precious seconds to throw open the stable doors, but it was enough to reveal that one horse was saddled up.

“Fuck, thank-” The adult sprinted towards the horse, biting back a scream of pain as they threw their injured leg over the horse’s side. The horse whinnied, but did not buck, thankfully. As soon as they were secure, Morgan snapped the reins. “Giddyup!”

As the horse ran past the house, they saw a figure sprinting out.

They snapped the reins again, getting as far away from the manor as fast as they could.

Hurt. But alive. And, based on the blind amount of gold they grabbed from the chest they had discovered, set enough for life.

A bubble of laughter escaped them.

One year later…

“See ya, tomorrow, Mx. Cleery.”

“Next round’s be on me!”

“Not tonight, lads,” Morgan called, grabbing the broom. “I’m closing up.”

“Alright, alright,” the dockhand said, chuckling as he set his payment on the counter. The others followed, jostling and laughing, merry on good drink. Morgan felt a smile form as they grabbed the coins, tucking them in the small chest they kept behind the counter before moving around the bar to begin their sweeping.

The bar had been a risky idea, but it was one that was paying off over time. Sure, the smell of alcohol clung to their skin, and they had to be wary sometimes, considering it was just them and a bunch of drunks, but it was much nicer than their old workplace. They had been able to decorate this place, with the popular green wallpaper and nice wooden chairs. Yep, it was nicer than the place before. Or…the place in between.

Morgan brushed that thought off with a sweep of the broom. The space was small, so it was easy enough to sweep and grab the glasses left scattered about on the tables. Once the glasses were all arranged in the back, left to soak in some water, they headed to the front to wipe up the counter.

It wasn’t until they were polishing a few glasses that the bell hanging over the door rang. “Sorry, folks,” they called over their shoulder. “Bar’s closing for the night.”

“Oh, I don’t suppose you can spare the time for one drink?”

The glass slipped from their fingers.

Damn. That was gonna eat up money.

Morgan slowly turned, ignoring the slight crunch of glass under their foot, and felt the blood rush from their face.

Frankie F. Franklin, who used to be part of the most famous magician’s act in the world, waggled his fingers. He wasn’t exactly the most handsome man, greying in his forties, wearing a grey suit that was similar to the suit they had run out of his house in, but there was something in him that drew people’s attention. “Hello, my dear!” he said, like they were old friends. “I heard about your…” He looked around, and his wide, constant grin faded into a sneer, just a bit. “Lovely establishment, and I was hoping to spend some time catching up.”

Morgan glanced over his shoulder. One of the footmen that had driven them and the other contestants to what they had thought was going to be a silly contest stood next to the door, not quite blocking it but probably willing to grab them if they tried to sprint. The grey mask hid their expression. Damn. 

“Alright,” they said, summoning whatever courage they had and summoning up the barkeep act. “What’ll it be?”

“Whatever you prefer,” Frankie said, pulling out a small money pouch. The coins inside glinted as he pulled a few out. “I am paying for both of us, after all.”

“I don’t drink on the job.”

Frankie’s smile returned. “Didn’t you just say you were closed for the night?” He had a point. He pushed the stack of coins, more than required for two small drinks, forward. “Whatever you prefer, my dear.”

Morgan bit back a snarl as they grabbed the stack and turned to the stock, hearing him shuffle. They had a feeling that Frankie didn’t just come for a drink, and it made their blood run hot. They grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two small glasses, setting the latter on the counter and pouring both quickly, ignoring the smell of smoke as he lit the cigar he had pulled out. “Here you go,” They pushed the glass forward and grabbed their own. “If you’re here for the horse, I sold him,” They threw back the glass.

Frankie was still staring when they lowered the glass, except he looked a tad more sheepish. “Oh, yes. I forgot you stole a horse.” Morgan raised a brow, and he raised his own glass up. “This isn’t about the horse, though, or the money you stole.” He sipped his glass, his dark eyes staring them down.

He was in control, and they both knew it.

Morgan grabbed the whiskey bottle and poured some more in. “Then why are you here?”

The asshole waited until they were sipping the second glass to speak. “I’m here to convince you to rejoin the show.”

Their sputter sent the alcohol flowing the wrong way, turning the sputter into coughing and gagging. The first word that came up was “Hell no-” The vest and tie they wore felt too tight with the sudden ache in their ribs. They started to undo it, glaring him down. “No.”

“You did win,” he said, reminding them of what had been cast in a fever dream of pain and terror. “The audience loved it. They loved you, the first person who ever won. And more than earned your prize.” Frankie pulled out a large bag. It shook the counter when it landed, spilling out to reveal several hundred coins.

Morgan felt their jaw drop as they stared at the sheer amount. This was more than enough to set them for life, enough to make the bar one of the best in the city. Their hand reached for it-

“Hundreds of people lasted a few seconds, a few lasted a few minutes. But stars don’t just stay for one show.”

There it was. There had been something he wanted, common sense dictated. Otherwise, he would’ve just sent the money.

Frankie leaned forward, as if he was sure he had already won. The red gleam of his cigar cast sinister shadows over his face. “You want something colorful, something crazy, something more than…” He gestured to the bar again. “This.”

“Look, I appreciate that my entertainment value was enough that people want me back,” That was a lie. “But I enjoy breathing. I enjoy my life here too much to risk doing something stupid.” They left the bottle on the counter, next to their glasses, and grabbed the broom again to start sweeping. It wouldn’t exactly be the best weapon, but it would be something if Frankie had brought his brother. “I enjoyed the show,” Enjoyed hearing the stories from the staff who attended, who kept their mouth shut and waited on the wealthy members of society who gathered at the Franklin home to watch four members of the poor be slaughtered. “But one time was enough for me.”

“Really?” Frankie chuckled. A hand wrapped around their own and Morgan gave a start. They hadn’t seen him walk up. “You really want to spend your days in squalor, with the scent of alcohol clinging to you, lonely?” He yanked them forward, and the broom clattered out of their hands as they landed, gripping his shoulder with their free hand as his other hand rested on their waist. “You’re different than that, and we both know it.”

“Not that different.” They stepped forward, and he followed suit, pushing them both towards the bar. They released his shoulder to grab his glass, some amber still left inside it, and threw it back.

“Different enough,” he said, more of a purr. “I like that.”

He had made that known when he found them and brought them into the game. Morgan had to admit it. They hadn’t been blindsided like the other three clearly had been. He had been amused when they tried pickpocketing him.

“But, let’s be honest,” Frankie suddenly spun until Morgan’s back pressed against his chest. “We need each other, especially you. We were on the verge of bankruptcy, and then you dazzled everyone.”

Their blood was hotter now.

The crowd had cheered when they slammed Frank into the fireplace. It had made their heart rush even harder, staring into his eyes and seeing the pure shock in his expression.

His hands suddenly pulled away.

“But,” Frankie sighed, shrugging as though he had just given up. He flicked away the remains of his cigar. “I guess I’ll leave that up to you.” He turned and started heading to the door. The footman had his cane and his coat ready.

Morgan was left standing there, unsure of what to say or do.

Fuck off? Good riddance?

They glanced around the bar. Despite his claims, it wasn’t a pit of filth and squalor. They tried their best to keep it clean and tidy and well-lit. But the smell of alcohol and piss hung in the air, clinging to their skin and hair, and there were stains they could never scrub out, both on the green wallpaper and the wooden stools. It was fine, but…

“So what percentage of the show would I be taking?”

Frankie paused, long enough that Morgan could pour two more glasses, grinning at him.

He turned and his grin revealed it all.

“Fair enough,” he said with a shrug. “I’d give you seven.”

Morgan felt a feral, loud cackle form as they poured another two glasses. “I wasn't born this morning, eighteen would be just fine.”

Frankie sputtered. “Why not just go ahead and ask for nickels on the dime?

“Fifteen.” Two more.

“I'd do eight.” Another step forward.

“Twelve.” Two more.

“Maybe nine.” A wince and another step.

“Ten.” Morgan grabbed a bottle over the counter, one of the most expensive bourbons they sold, and poured two glasses. They held one of the glasses out, staring him down with their grin.

Frankie stared. Once again, he looked like they had just slammed a fist into his gut. His eye twitched. 

His smile reappeared as he took the glass. 

“Deal.”

[carefreecoffee]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Hi Neighbor!: Aizawa Shouta x readerˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Word count: 1.8k, Gender neutral reader

You knew that living on your own wasn't going to be easy at first. Moving in, making friends, finishing paperwork, all of it had finally caught up to you. As the weeks eased in and the weather got warmer, you increasingly found those hardships to have become fruitless. Their meaning no longer evident as you happily walked up to your floor, fishing your keys out of your pocket.

As you lift your head, a yellow paper is seen hanging on the front of your door, bold letters harboring it.

“TENANTS!!

PLEASE REGARD THE FOLLOWING RULES AND REGULATIONS…”

You quirk a brow, reading over the lists. He was basically pitching a rant through the ink, talking about rent increases if any of the following were to continue. Noise, damage, even new utility fees.

The hell!? This was not the first time he's done this but it would be the last time you'd put up with it.

As you look over the paper once more, you can hear footsteps approaching, possibly another tenant. They stop behind you, you peek over to see what you assumed to be your neighbor across the hall holding the same yellow paper in his hand. 

You had never been able to properly introduce yourself to him, he had always seemed so reserved and distant. A small grunt leaves his chest as he reads. You decide to clear your throat after a moment, facing him slightly.

“...bullshit, right?”

All he does is nod in response, folding the paper up and headinging inside of his apartment.

Quite reserved…too reserved. You knew you could crack him one of these days.

About a week goes by before that eye sore of a yellow paper seems to make it back to your door. You groan, ripping it off and staring at it intently. All you needed when getting off of work was a nice hot bath and your comfort food. No this. Apparently people had been disregarding the “rules”, Yeah right. Like a landlord could legally make you do anything listed.

In your silent frustration, it seems your neighbor had arrived at his home once more, taking off the paper and glancing at you, noticing how deep you were in your frustration.

“You were right”

You perk your head up curiously, meeting the man's gaze. You had never been able to get a good look at him until now but damn was he a sight to behold. A sharp jaw, even sharper eyes, dark hair disheveled but actually kinda suited him and a rather sizable scar under his eye. Curious..

You tilt your head, “Right about what?”

He looks down at the paper, “It's bullshit.” You stand there in silence, Did he really just quote you from days ago?? So he was listening..

You nod eagerly, “Exactly! Who does this guy think he is? Can't even come home in peace, y’know?” You make eye contact with him once more, folding the paper absentmindedly between your fingers.

You notice the slight tilt of a grin surrounded by his rough stubble. All he replies with is a quaint ‘yeah’ before returning into his apartment.

You were getting closer, you knew it. You wouldn't pressure him but would it really hurt to get to know eachother better? Maybe this landlord fiasco would be your in.

As you're making your way up your complex stairs, you notice the man from before standing there in the hall. He must've gotten there before you. You wave with a quick hello, hoping to garner his attention one way or another. He doesn't reply, it wasn't unusual but it ticked you off a bit. Looking over his shoulder slightly, you notice a blue slip now in his grasp. Low and behold, it's on your door as well. 

You swipe it off, not caring of the condition. It seems that nothing has gotten better, the landlord being more like a land demon at this point reeking havoc on your paychecks. It wasn't your guys’ fault that the utilities and expenses were shitty, maybe he should take better responsibility of his complex and maybe-

“I think your slip has taken enough hits” You’re cut out of your thinking by the sound of the man's voice breaking the silence. You glance at him quizzically, “Huh?”

He nods down towards the blue paper in your tight grasp, “You’ve been staring daggers into it for a couple minutes now.” Oh god did he see that?! You quickly compose yourself. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. This land lord is gonna be the death of me though, maybe even my paycheck” 

He stifles a chuckle, you immediately look over at the strictly stoic man in front of you. A small grin makes its way to your face from the sound, you’ve finally cracked him…at least to some degree.

“Seriously. This guy does not know how to back off.” He crumples the paper in his grasp, unlocking his apartment door. You hum in agreement, going to unlock your own door as well before turning to the man. “Hey, i never caught your name”

He turns around, black strands of hair slightly obscuring his face as he grumbles out, “...Aizawa”

You nod, a small smile gracing your face. “L/N, nice to finally make your acquaintance, Aizawa”

He’s silent for a moment, giving you a curt nod as he enters his home. You sighed, walking into your apartment and kicking your shoes off. It was tough, though knowing you had made some sort of progress with the rugged man gave your heart an elated sensation, and maybe one day it’ll be easier to catch his attention.

Its been a couple days, whenever you had come home it seems he was already there in his own and vice versa, like your paths were rarely meeting. The smell of the food you were preparing for dinner filled the dim air in your apartment, it had been the one day you had off of work and damnit if you weren’t going to enjoy the hell out of it. 

As you turned down the heat on the stove, a pert knock was heard on your door. You set the stove down to the lowest setting and put the lid over it, “One moment, please!” Your voice rang in reference to the door, quickly cleaning off your hands and looking through the peephole. 

It was.. Aizawa? Well, now this was quite unusual, he had never approached you directly before so why now? 

You opened the door to be met with his face, “Hey Aizawa-Kun, something the matter?” You leaned on the doorway, taking in his usual cold demeanor. He had his arms crossed, long black tee and pants as usual; what's new?

Aizawa looks up and down the hallway before looking back at you, his hair hiding his eyes as usual. He lets out a small sigh before speaking, "Can I come in for a minute?" You nod, “Oh yeah, of course” You move out of the way, letting him in. As he enters, he immediately takes note of the smell of food coming from the kitchen. He takes a moment to look around your apartment before speaking again

"You were in the middle of cooking?"

You look over to the kitchen, waving it off. “Oh yeah, don't worry, it's just simmering.” You cross your arms and look at him curiously “Sooo, what's up?”

"Well..." He hesitates for a moment, his hand going up to his hair and gripping some strands as his eyes glance at the ground before looking back at you. "You see... I'm... I'm moving out soon..."

Your face drops slightly at the statement, taken aback by the declaration. “Oh” That's all you could muster. You weren’t too close with him but you can't lie that you were getting used to his usual small talk. He nods his head slowly and lets go of the strands of hair in his hand. "Yes... I already found another place to stay but I wanted to keep in touch with you.” 

Your head perks up at that. Keep in touch with you?? After all of his one-offs and solemn demeanor, you didn't think he’d actually want to get to know you more like you did with him. 

He notices how you perk up when he mentions keeping in touch with you and feels some relief. He runs a hand through his hair again and nods. "Yes. We didn't get to know each other that much since we only really spoke a few times and well...I enjoyed the little conversations we had and I was hoping we could continue talking even though I won't be living next to you anymore.."

Part of you was jumping with glee, feeling straight out of a slice of life manga- but no, you can't get ahead of yourself. You barely know him, you talked a few times and maybe he was just that interesting but…but… damnit.

“Yes! Of course! I-i mean yeah totally” You scramble over to your living room, grabbing your phone off of the table and handing it to him, contacts open. You swear you saw a hint of a smirk on his face as he took the device from you, punching in his numbers and handing it abc. You quickly made his contact and nodded. “I’ll text you in a bit so you have my number, ‘kay?” 

Your eagerness was met with his usual calm and stoic demeanor, you didn't care about it now because you learned it's a part of him. There was nothing more to earn than his attention. He nods, opening the door slightly. “I’ll look out for it” 

The small grin on your face never fades, holding your phone in your slightly sweaty palm, “I hope your moving goes well!” You move to hold the door open as he leaves, waving to him as he enters his almost-former apartment. 

Closing the door, you couldn't help but take in the interaction. Did that just happen? Are you hallucinating? You walk back to the kitchen, taking the lid off of the food and putting the heat up. 

You glance at your phone, seeing his contact ‘Aizawa’. Nope, not dreaming. You text hastily.

“Hi! It's L/N from across the hall, making sure you have my number!”

You set the phone back down as if it were on fire. Was that too straightforward? You stir the food. Was that too preppy? The food sizzles slightly on the pan. Should you have- ‘ping!’

You pick up the phone quickly, the light illuminating your eager expression. 

“Got it, thank you L/N.”

“If you are wanting to, i would like to take you to the cafe just down the road.”

Now you were shitting bricks. Duh! Of course you would! You’d love nothing more!

“Sounds awesome! Let's plan it one of these days :)”

Now you felt as if you didn't have to worry about how excited you were, in this moment you could care less just knowing he was thinking about you in his own, Aizawa way. To say you ate in peace was an understatement, the prospect of hanging out with the solemn man on what could realistically be called a date made the food somehow taste 100x better. Maybe even 100,000x.