#because it's not my intention to drive anyone away or make them sad

[1d1195]

Most IV

Read Most here | ~ 5.9k words

From me: I wanted this part to be longer but I think you'll like the next part the most.

Warnings: not really anything special about this part. You are going to hear from Lauren again though, lol

Summary: Harry is desperately trying not to scare her away. She is wondering if this was a terrible idea.

The boys were in the living room putting together a bookshelf and a coffee table that she had to buy since the ones in her apartment at school belonged to Addie. It still left no room for anyone to sit but true to their word, they didn’t need it. They sat around chatting and catching up. Making each other laugh. Harry sat beside her and she could feel his gaze on her every time she shifted. Like she was going to disappear.

When all the pizza was gone, the girls had brought empty boxes to the kitchen but again, she didn’t even have a trash can to throw stuff away. “I don’t think I can live three weeks without some stuff,” she admitted wrinkling her nose. The package of water bottles that the boys picked up with the new pizza was already significantly depleted and the empty bottles they had all drank were lining her counter. The boys were going to need trash bags to put the empty boxes and pieces of Styrofoam somewhere too.

She also thought about how she had packed most of her clothing away in the storage pod as well. Underwear was definitely a necessity.

“A good old fashioned shopping trip would do us some good!” Eleanor proclaimed seeing her friend’s frustration grow. Immediately she ushered her towards the door. She glanced back as she grabbed her purse off the counter just in time to see Harry’s head perk up as he looked at her.

It killed her to see the anxiety on Harry’s face as if she was going to disappear again when she walked out that door. She didn’t just ruin the trust between them, she murdered it. “Um...” she swallowed digging in her purse and gently moving away from Eleanor’s hand. “I don’t have any room in my car anyway,” she shrugged and placed her set of keys on the counter. A quiet assurance she would be back. The relief on Harry’s face was almost as painful to see as his anxiety. Both of those sad emotions on his gorgeous face were entirely her fault. “Do you mind driving, Sarah?”

“Of course not,” she shook her head. “El, can you help me move some stuff in the car so there’s room for three of us?”

She figured there was nothing in her car that required two people to move it. But the girls headed out while Mitch and Louis focused intently on the shelf. Niall nudged Harry silently reading the next set of directions on installing the lifting mechanism for the coffee table. Harry got up from the floor and approached her the way a person would approach a deer in the middle of a hike. Terrified that the poor thing would skitter away at the slightest movement. Their friends were still in earshot, and it seemed weird to have a private goodbye when they were only running to get her some necessities. “I’ll be back,” it felt horrible to reassure him of such a fact.

He nodded and forced a smile that tensed on his face a hair too much. It didn’t reach his eyes. Her stomach was in knots at the sight; she felt so horrible. “Do you need anything?” She asked.

He shook his head. “M’good, kitten. Thank you.”

Her heart continued to flutter at the word kitten. Like he didn’t know what else to call her. “Thank you for helping, I’m sure you’re exhausted after your shift, and you probably want to get home or something—”

“No,” he cut her off. “M’happy t’help and be here,” he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered. It broke her heart all over again that she betrayed his trust. How was she going to make this right?

“Well, thank you,” she repeated graciously. “Really.”

He glanced back at the living room and the boys and then silently, quietly, pushed her into the hallway. With the door closed, he cleared his throat and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I don’t know how t’say this because I don’t know what the rules are. I don’t know what we’re supposed t’do or feel but I jus’ know m’really jealous of the hugs everyone else got and I know I got t’hold your hand and chat with you for a while on m’own... and I know it’s silly m’so jealous of a hug m’friends—who probably missed you in some ways jus’ as much as I did—but m’incredibly jealous and I jus—”

Her arms were around his neck. Her chest against his, even though there were two layers of clothes between them, she swore she could feel his heartbeat. They fit like puzzle pieces. Because of course they did. If it wasn’t for their words, she wasn’t sure she would know they were ever apart at all. Harry’s arms wound around her waist; he sighed so content. Buried his nose in her hair and breathing quietly beside her ear. He was holding her so close; like she might wriggle out of his arms at any moment. Being this close made her stomach flip. It felt new and familiar at the same time. His body felt so warm and strong but very much the same arms and embrace she was used to from years ago. Her face tucked into the curve of his neck; where his cologne gathered and smelled so intoxicatingly of him, she could have cried. His muscles were more defined, but he was still her Harry.

Except he wasn’t, actually. It reminded her of the final scene of a tragic romance movie where the couple should have been acknowledging how they felt about one another all along. But instead, they moved on.

So, her brain turned on again and slowly, begrudgingly, she pulled away. Slow enough that when she was able to view his face, he was looking at her like she wasn’t going to disappear again. A layer of trust had returned for which she was so grateful it ached like nothing she had felt before in the pit of her stomach. “Don’t want to keep the girls waiting too long,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he nodded and put his hand on her doorknob. “We’ll try not t’trash the place,” he smiled, that dimple making her weak all over. She didn’t even want to go shopping. Not without Harry attached to her hip. But he wasn’t hers anymore and it was her own fault.

So she quietly laughed at his joke and turned to the elevator after her friends.

*

Did you know you owned everything?

I was JUST thinking the same thing about you. Carter had nothing useful either. We’ve been shopping for HOURS.

She smiled at her phone while Eleanor and Sarah pushed the cart and walked through the store like they were the ones moving into a new place. Her phone rang and she was quick to pick it up. “Did you see him?” Addie asked excitedly. “Was he overwhelmed? Did he cry? Did he kiss you immediately?”

She sighed, blushing, grateful her friends were distracted so they didn’t see nor hear Addie nearly shouting her questions. “Yes, probably, no, no.”

Addie blew out an annoyed breath. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Addie,” she groaned with frustration and Eleanor glanced back briefly to see her on the phone. She smiled and then turned her attention back on the array of dishware. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what? If you remember how to kiss?”

“Jesus. Christ.”

“I’m sorry about your storage pod,” Addie tried instead. “I bet you miss your notebooks.”

There was a pang of anxiety about the fate of her notebooks on a trip across the country that she couldn’t control. If something happened to them, it might make her insane. She really should have at least scanned them onto the cloud. At least she would have something to do when she got them back before the semester started and she was alone in her apartment with her thoughts. “It’s alright,” but it reminded her to snag a notebook from the office supplies aisle as they walked by. She tossed it over the side of the cart. “Once it’s here and I’m settled, I hope you’ll come for a visit. I’m going to have this super comfy air mattress you can sleep on since my bed isn’t here either.”

Addie laughed. “Excellent.”

“I miss you,” she admitted.

“Miss you too. But this is good. Because you won’t get rid of me. I’m so proud you jumped.” Her cheeks flushed.

“Thank you.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”  

With her phone back in her pocket she glanced at the items in the car that Eleanor and Sarah had selected. They had similar tastes throughout their lives, so she wasn’t worried about the aspect of overall décor and color; but her budget was a bit depleted without a job lined up and dipping into her savings this much was a little worrisome. “We’ve missed you,” Sarah said softly interrupting her thoughts before they spiraled too far. “Think you balanced out the lot of us.”

“I’m freaking out,” she admitted.

They both stopped their leisurely strolling and looked at her nervously. Because terrifyingly enough, she didn’t look like she was freaking out. So the internal side of things must have been bad and they probably had about as much fear as Harry that she might just leave again without warning. She hated that she did this and part of her thought leaving again might be best. Because why would they trust her? After all that. She left without explanation. “Why?” Eleanor asked.

Her voice broke and she sniffled. “He’s going to hate me,” she whispered.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Sarah rolled her eyes and pushed the cart forward not even bothering to entertain her worries. It wasn’t mean and part of her was glad Sarah wasn’t treating her like she was made of glass—she was treating her the way she always had. As if she had never left.

Eleanor smiled sweetly, put a hand on her back and ushered her after Sarah. “Harry will never hate you,” she promised. The relief she felt released a burst of dopamine and made the anxiety she felt disappear almost instantly.

“I hate me,” she grumbled. Eleanor laughed and squeezed her hip.

“We’re so happy you’re back. I don’t know if you heard everything, but Harry wasn’t himself without you,” she explained.

Her cheeks warmed and she swallowed thickly. “It made sense in my head,” she whispered. “I swear.”

Eleanor looked at her sympathetically, a smile that was warm but full of empathy filled her pretty face and she was overcome with how much she missed her friends. If it wasn’t for Addie, there was a good chance she wouldn’t have survived the last three years. “I know. I know you wouldn’t do that without thinking it through,” Eleanor nodded encouragingly. “I just wish you had told us what you were feeling.”

“Yeah, how did you stay off social media like that? I could use a lesson, honestly. All I do is scroll,” Sarah called from in front of them putting a toilet bowl brush into her growing cart.

She was grateful for the kindness her friends shared. “Thank you,” she smiled at Eleanor and then turned to Sarah. “Both of you.”

The pair of them smiled back. “Anything for you, babe,” Sarah assured her.

*

They returned with the items needed and the boys were waiting, ready to take more bags and boxes than she thought the girls could fit in Sarah’s car with the three of them already inside it. They were like an assembly line of grabbing items and bringing them to her apartment. When everyone else was ahead of her, she grabbed the air mattress box. It was heavy and large enough to make it awkward to carry and Harry frowned watching her struggle to lock her car as she tried to balance it on her hip. All while he carried nothing more than a box of pots and pans that weighed probably a fraction as much.

“Swap with me,” he ordered and placed it on the trunk of Sarah’s car.

“Oh... no, it’s alright. It’s heavy and you’ve already worked and—”

He ignored her, pulling it from her grip as she protested, and he marched toward her building. With a sigh, she grabbed the pots and pans, feeling useless and needy again. The elevator signaled the rest were already on their trip up leaving Harry and her in wait for it to descend again. They stood in silence holding their boxes while waiting patiently. “Thank you,” she said again. It felt like a constant in her mouth as the afternoon progressed. “I can’t imagine how tired you must be.”

“M’fine,” he smiled. “Happy t’see you in exchange of m’nap. Also, would’ve gone home t’Mrs. Peterson asking me t’fix her closet door or check her dryer vent.”

She laughed and Harry thought he won the lottery or was struck by lightning. It was the most beautiful sound in the world, and he felt lucky to hear it. The elevator doors opened, and they reverted back to quiet. Her phone vibrated in her pocket; it was a message from Carter.

Addie misses you so much. I don’t think I’ll ever be as good a roommate as you.

“A friend from school?” Harry asked, unable to keep his interest in who messaged her to himself. Harry never saw himself as jealous. But he never had three years of time without her—a whole college career without him by her side. He didn’t know if she had a relationship and quite frankly she was terrified to ask.

“Yeah, umm... his name’s Carter.”

She was replying to his message reminding him where she kept the emergency chocolate for when Addie spiraled. So at first, she didn’t see the way Harry’s jaw flexed so hard she thought he could have cut the sudden tension in the elevator better than the sharpest knife in the world ever could have. His eyes stared straight ahead as the elevator ascended. Her cheeks heated in the small space, feeling mortified that she made Harry feel jealous. God she couldn’t even come home without making him feel bad.

“I met him at my roommate’s dance recital. You would love him,” she whispered because it was the truth. “He started chatting with me all by myself. He calls me gorgeous when he greets me. But the day I met him, I didn’t want to talk. But he was insistent. It’s why I think you’d like him. He inspired a little thing I wrote, I’ll have to let you read it sometime. But anyway... I showed him a picture of my roommate—Addie—and he fell in love with her. Like right there. In the auditorium right as the curtain was opening for her recital. Just her picture, Harry. It was like when Allie saw the picture of Noah in the newspaper in The Notebook. I watched him fall in love with her. I watched it happen,” she smiled at the memory. “He also calls me my favorite matchmaker. He helped us move three times to two different apartments and he never lets me carry heavy grocery bags even though I’m not his girlfriend,” she explained emphasizing that she was not dating Carter. “And he really liked my writing—thinks I’m going to be an instant cult-classic writer. And he was really excited that I decided to come home—even though Addie is being mean to him now, I guess.”

The little story eased the tension in his jaw. She watched it disappear slowly and she wondered if he was going to develop a TMJ dysfunction from how clenched it was for the last few moments. The elevator stopped and he gestured for her to exit first. Before they opened the door where she could hear the rustling of paper bags and the tearing of boxes.

“Where’s the scissors!?” Louis shouted.

“I told you we needed to buy two,” Sarah said grumpily.

“I didn’t know Niall was going to lose them in the first twenty seconds of opening them!” Eleanor protested.

She turned to face Harry, each had a box in front of them, like armor to protect their hearts, whether they knew it or not. She thought about writing that down as soon as she found her new notebook and a pen. The sadness she felt for making him feel jealous still lingered in her. All of the bad choices she made (even though she loved Addie and Carter and wouldn’t have met them without leaving) made her feel terrible on Harry’s behalf. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” she whispered, shame creeping through her body. Without another word, she turned inside before she could say anything else.

Harry stood in front of the open door, noise and chaos ensuing just five feet from him, he worried she was going to get a noise complaint because of the lot of them. He entered the apartment after a few more seconds of silence on his part and even though the apartment wasn’t all that big, he found her instinctively, dropping the box he held onto the counter. He grabbed her wrist like he had a thousand times before, it made her heart flip and flutter like an acrobat in the circus. Without a care of his friends shouting and creating more commotion he leaned in close, so his lips were so close to her ear, she almost closed her eyes to savor the feel of the moment. It wasn’t even that intimate, but it felt like it was.

“I would like t’take you out t’dinner, kitten,” his voice was low and almost gravelly. It warmed her skin and body like nothing she had ever felt before—except she had. Because he always made her feel like this. Ever since they were young, and she knew they were soulmates—even if he didn’t believe in them.

Silently she nodded, meeting his gaze again and smiling. His soft, answering smile was so beautiful she wanted to scream. Thank God she was home.

She excused herself to her bedroom after that, closed the door, where she slid the notebook from one of the bags, found a pen in her purse and drew a heart on the inside cover, listed two names inside it as she always did.

On the first page she scribbled down some notes about how home wasn’t a place, a town, or a building at all.

It was green eyes and a kind smile that made her feel whole.

*

They hadn’t made it to dinner yet. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Her moving in, especially without all her stuff, took a tremendous effort and amount of time. It took a ton of phone calls to stay on top of it and make sure it didn’t get lost along the way because its destination wasn’t meant for a cross-country road trip or any of the stops along the way back to her. In addition to that, she found a job at one of their local restaurants—Niall was happy to call in a favor to the owner who knew his mum so well, so she began working so much. Mainly because she worried about her savings being dipped into because of the move and missing items.

She also had to visit her own mum now that she was closer to her again. Meanwhile, Harry was still on the schedule to work overtime and all his regular hours as well—at least through the cycle of the schedule he was currently on.

So, two and a half weeks had passed since she moved back. Other than the first day they helped move her in, there had only been a handful of sightings. A few of them visited her while she worked, happy to report back to Harry (even though he insisted it was unnecessary but was nonetheless grateful for their intrusion) she was still in town. When he drove past her apartment building (because he was creepy now and scared beyond belief she would be gone in the middle of the night) and saw her storage pod with her mum’s furniture had been removed he felt a ripple of anxiety course through him. It was only alleviated when he saw her car still parked in the same spot that he relaxed. Their group of friends invited her to their weekly summer bonfire but the first week Harry had to work and the second week she had to work.

There was no time for a dinner date to rekindle the love that never left nor ask questions that Harry needed answered.

By then, everyone outside their circle of friends had heard she was home. People eyed Harry like he was a whole new person. “Ran into her,” Gemma smiled excitedly. “She looks beautiful, college was kind to her.”

Harry nodded, the pair of them in his backyard while his mum was inside cooking for them. They insisted on helping but naturally Gemma told him he was grating cheese the wrong way which resulted in a bickering mess of cheese on Harry’s floor and his mum ushering her grown children outside so she could cook in peace.

They were lying in the grass and Harry sighed feeling like the air had been bogged down with pollutants he didn’t even notice for three years because the air was clean now. “Nearly cried on the elevator when she talked ‘bout her friend Carter. Guess he’s dating her college roommate,” he explained. “He called her gorgeous and I thought I was going t’throw up, Gem,” he rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed. “M’crazy, aren’t I?”

“No more than usual,” Gem smiled. “I told you she’d be back.” Part of Harry doubted Gemma. It was small, but gnawed at him late at night when he missed her most and thought about how nice it would be to have her to snuggle with in his bed. It had been ages since he held her like that. They only had a small number of sleepovers at their age. They were very much still under the watchful eye of their parents at that time. He cherished those memories and often looked at the twinkling stars when he thought about how she would feel in his bed when he couldn’t sleep.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled back. “You were right,” he sighed with relief.

“She’s scared Mum is going to hate her.”

Harry rolled his eyes; irritation of the slightest bit filled his body. “Of course she is,” he huffed out another exhausted sigh.

“I told her that was ridiculous.”

Harry didn’t tell Gemma about the dinner date he was waiting for (again) because she already knew. “M’hoping she’ll tell me why.”

“I think we’re all hoping that, Harry,” she reached for his hand and squeezed it. “M’sure if you ask she’ll tell you.”

“Gemma, I hugged her, and I think it cured me,” he swallowed. The way her body fit into the frame of his like they never stopped hugging was so incredible. Gemma smiled fondly at her little brother and nodded. She was certain he was telling the truth. Gemma believed they were made for each other just as much as the rest of everyone else believed. “M’afraid that if I kiss her, I might propose on the spot.”

“Over my dead body,” Gemma laughed. “Mum and I would kill you for not letting us be there,” so Harry couldn’t do anything else but laugh along with her.

*

They were approaching week three and other than run ins as a group and waves as their lives quietly skipped past one another through no fault of their own. But finally, he ran into her at the grocery store. She was in the checkout line waiting and Harry was just grabbing a cart to fill for the week.

“Hey, kitten,” he smiled. She had a basket on her arm that looked like the handles were digging into her skin and he wanted to take it from her but instead she placed it at her feet and smiled back so sweetly as they began chatting.

“Finished with your shift?” She asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. M’gonna go home and take a nap. But m’low on a lot of food.”

“If I were you, I would have bought something to go and went and took that nap.”

“Well, then I wouldn’t have run into you,” he reminded her with a smile that took over his lips before he could stop it. It wasn’t meant to be cute or sweet, but it was anyway. It made her cheeks turn pink and it did feel like fate—even though if this were three years ago, she wouldn’t have even noticed she had run into Harry by chance. It would have seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

“That’s true,” she bit the inside of her lip.

“How ‘bout you? Working tonight?” He asked.

She shook her head. “You can go ahead of me,” she said to the woman waiting behind her who smiled kindly in return. “No... I did a double yesterday and I’m awfully tired myself. A nap sounds like the right idea,” she grinned knowingly.

Harry couldn’t help it. The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he thought it was now or never because they had been doing some kind of dance that he was certain she would write about. Ships passing in the night and all that. Just missing one another and their free time so he had to ask right then. “Are y’free tonight?” He asked. “Other than napping?” He amended with a tired smile. “For that dinner?” He reminded her.

“Yes,” she nodded quickly, immediately. A relieved sigh fell from his mouth, and he thought it was the best news in the world. Maybe even better than the news she was home. Even though he was there in person to see that for himself. She giggled slightly at his relief. Not because it was funny, but because she was relieved too.

“I’ll pick y’up at six.”

*

She was bubbling with excitement as she left the grocery store. Her heart in her throat and she headed to the coffee shop because if she was going to skip her nap to get ready for her date with her ex-boyfriend but also the very same man she’d been in love with since she understood the emotion, then she was going to need caffeine. And back up. A text to Eleanor and Sarah telling them it was date night set them into motion.

“Hey Lo,” she smiled downright gleefully. A date with Harry. It felt like the very first one. “Can I have my usual?” She asked.

Lauren nodded eagerly, a smile on her lips. Her kind friend chatted with her, asking how her day was going, how her studies were and the like. It was unbelievably nice to have her back in town. It had eaten away at Lauren for what she had insinuated. Keeping it a secret from her friend group was abhorrent. She knew it was and so the fact she was home was a good thing.

She was happy to have her friend back. Even though she knew it was her fault she left in the first place. “Harry and I are going to dinner,” she was smiling the way she used to when Harry texted her asking if they needed anything for their study time.

Just like that a switch went off in the pit of her stomach. The envy she felt was atrocious and she wanted to stop it but it was growing like it had the day she had told her Harry deserved more. “Like a date?” She asked in surprise.

She nodded. “I know. It’s...kinda crazy right?”

“Yeah... yeah it is. I’m surprised... he uh...” Lauren swallowed begging her mouth not to say anything worse than what she had suggested three years prior. She had already lost her friend, she knew it. It was a miracle she was home. She didn’t deserve the heartache at the hands of her jealousy. But the green little monster was vicious. “He doesn’t usually go on dates during the week,” she murmured, putting her drink on the counter. It was horrible, watching the bubbly bright smile fall off her face. Literally slid from her lips to the floor in seconds. Lauren turned to the customer that was next in line. “I’m sure it’s fine,” she said as she made the next drink. “It’ll be a nice date.”

But just like before, she knew she planted a seed of doubt as she left the coffee shop.

*

Eleanor and Sarah were already at her apartment when she got there. They had clothing options that they had scrounged together as well as a plethora of makeup pallets that she didn’t have since most of her stuff was still a day or two out. “At least my stuff will be here soon.”

“I cannot wait to see your shoes,” Sarah sighed dreamily. “You always had the best shoe collection.”

“Do you still have your curling iron?” Eleanor asked. “That thing was the most amazing hair styling tool known to man and I don’t know how I have lived without you and it all these years.”

She giggled, grateful for the distraction from her conversation with Lauren. Because honestly, if they hadn’t already been there, she might have cancelled on Harry and thought about moving back with Addie and Carter. Thinking of Addie made her miss her. “Do you guys mind if I FaceTime Addie? She’ll want to know I’m going on this date.”

“Of course not! We’ll need her opinion too,” Eleanor assured her.

So she rang Addie who picked up on the second ring and was immediately squealing with excitement. “I told you he wouldn’t have moved on!” She shouted.

“Holy shit, did you think he moved on?!” Sarah asked.

“Well... I mean... it was three years.”

Sarah and Eleanor exchanged a look of disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”

“I told you,” Addie quipped again. Eleanor was putting eyeshadow on her and her reflection in the mirror suggested she wouldn’t need any of the three cream blushes that Eleanor had laid on the counter. She glared at Addie on her cell phone screen.

“Well...I don’t know. I just figured...”

“Hi Addie,” Carter said. “Wow, aren’t you all dolled up, Gorgeous,” he winked at the screen. Nice to see you.”

“Oh no wonder Harry was jealous of him,” Eleanor whispered delightedly.

“Shut up, he was not,” she gasped.

Addie giggled, pecked Carter’s warm cheek. “Nice to meet you ladies,” he said to Sarah and Eleanor. “Heard tons about you. I’m gonna start dinner, love,” he kissed the top of Addie’s head. “Can’t wait to see the finished product, Gorgeous,” he winked at her again as he left their view.

It was great for her aching heart that her two little families liked each other so quickly. She wanted to ask Eleanor and Sarah about what Lauren had said about him dating but she was scared to know the answer. But if she didn’t know, then it would probably ruin the date. “How... how often does Harry go on dates?” She asked.

“None,” Addie was the one that answered with a shake of her head.

Eleanor snorted. “She’s right,” Sarah nodded. “Harry has been on zero dates. Unless you count Mrs. Peterson needing him all the time to fix something at her house. Then about a thousand, I’d say,” she smiled.

“None?” She asked. “I...” she swallowed. “I thought I heard someone say...he was dating.”

“Who the fuck said that?” Eleanor looked at her in the mirror in absolute shock.

“Oh I just...” she should have told them. They would be able to assuage her worries immediately. “People talk about me pretty loudly; with Harry being a town staple now,” she shrugged. “They think I’m deaf or something,” she explained quietly.

“Harry hasn’t dated anyone,” Sarah stated matter of fact, no room for argument.

“I told you so,” Addie sang through the phone. Eleanor and Sarah smiled sweetly at their new friend within a cellphone screen. “You left your picture here,” Addie said and moved to the kitchen.

“What picture?” Sarah asked.

“Addie...maybe don’t make me look insane?” She suggested and wished she could cover her face with her hands but didn’t want to ruin the makeup.

But Addie was already showing them the picture of her and Harry from their days in school when they first got together. “You had that on the fridge?” Eleanor looked at her with astonishment.

“Yeah, literally from the moment we moved in,” Addie reminded her.

“Harry has the same one on his fridge,” Sarah explained.

“Same what?”

Her head snapped up to the mirror reflection and saw Harry’s frame hovering near the doorway. “Holy shit, sweetie, he’s even hotter in person,” Addie was already swooning.

“Addison!” Carter called from behind the screen.

Harry chuckled, his cheeks the slightest shade pinker. “Hi Addie.”

“Harry,” she smiled unabashedly, unaffected by her compliment. “I can see why she said she would spend thousands of dollars on your calendar.”

He snorted and caught her gaze in the reflection again. He squinted, the screen that showed the picture of the pair of them on the fridge miles and miles away. “That’s on your fridge?” He asked.

“Every morning I stare at it while I drink orange juice from the carton.”

“I told you it was her, Carter,” she said knowingly.

“How did you get in?” Sarah asked.

“Door was unlocked. I heard you guys squealing, so I figured I’d see what you were all up to. Also it’s five fifty five and I said I would be here at six.”

“So punctual,” Addie smiled brightly.

“Well, she’s all set,” Eleanor tapped her shoulder. “Just need to swap out this cute comfy look with a dress.”

“How fancy is the place we’re going?” She frowned.

“It’s not,” he assured her. “You could go like that, honestly. You would still be prettier than everyone else.”

“That’s notebook worthy for sure,” Addie murmured.

“Addison,” this time it wasn’t Carter that said it.

“Have fun, sweetie. Nice meeting you all.”

“Bye Gorgeous!” Carter called as Addie gave a wave and hung up.

Eleanor and Sarah ushered Harry out of the bathroom and she changed quietly. Immediately calling Addie back and pressing the phone to her ear. “Lauren said he’s dating,” she whispered so quietly Addie could barely hear her.

“Lauren can go eat dirt. She’s probably jealous. He asked you on a date.”

She sighed. “This is a horrible idea.”

“No,” Addie was serious, shaking her head even though she couldn’t see. “It’s a wonderful idea. He’s your soulmate who has waited three years for this date. Let him have it,” she whispered. “You deserve this, sweetie. You love him. You just need to jump,” she assured her.

She took a deep breath and looked away from the mirror. “Okay,” she whispered to Addie. “I’ll jump.”

--

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most: @harryspirate

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 5]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 3.4k

Authors Note: A little bit of a longer chapter this time around, and I'm very excited to share this part with you. I also wanted to note that I have the next 2 parts in the works, and again, I wanted to thank you for reading my story!

Taglist: @cassies-cookies @khadeeeeej @kooklovee @lallataegi @whoa-jo @11thenightwemet11

Previous Chapter | Interlude

Series Masterlist

The basement is loud with the sound of drunken college students conversing over a pop playlist that played over a DIY speaker system. Boxed wine and cheap beer flowed freely, poured into disposable cups. One of those cups landed in Jung Kook’s hand, and he hoped it would give him the courage to say hello you. He stood against the wall, feeling completely invisible, seemingly blended into the background of grey cement. You, by contrast, were a social butterfly, amazing Jung Kook with how you were able to completely light up the room. 

You were sitting on empty table, denim shorts revealing your legs as the swung absentmindedly to the rhythm. A group of your closest girl friends surrounded you, and you sported a large, pearly white smile while you spoke to them. Jung Kook couldn’t hear you over the music and the other party goers, but he could tell just from watching how easily you drew people in. 

‘Just talk to her.’ He repeated to himself, taking more sips of his beer. ‘Just talk to her. Just do it. She’s nice, you know she won’t laugh at you. Just do it.” 

As though his feet had made a decision for him, he headed towards your little circle of friends. When he approached you, your attention turned to him, and your eyes lit up. 

“Jung Kook! I haven’t gotten to talk to you yet this semester, how are you?”  You greeted him. Your friends turned to him, smiled and some waved. “You guys, this is Jung Kook, we have a class together! He was in my history class last semester, too.” 

“Hi.” Jung Kook waved shyly, not used to being the center of attention. “I-I’m good, thanks.” 

With a sigh of relief that the hardest part is over, Jung Kook moved into the space your friends made for him, and attempted to melt into the conversation. He stuttered, unable to take his eyes off of you, but if anyone noticed, they said nothing about it. He desperately wanted to get you alone, away from the noise, but couldn’t quite find the right moment to steal you away from your friends. So he settled for watching your bright smile, sparkling eyes, and listening to your charismatic, sweet voice chat up your friends. 

But then,, Kai, the boy who had hurt you just a few months previously, moved in close to you, handing you another cup. Jung Kook detested the way you looked up at him, and the way all your friends fawned superficially over the two of you. Everyone, including Jung Kook, knew he was bad for you, but nobody wanted to say anything when you just looked so happy. He understood, because he never wanted to make you sad, either. 

It wasn’t long before Kai led you away from the party, to his parked car, to take you home for the night. You turned and waved at your friends, including Jung Kook, telling them to drive safe. Jung Kook went home right after, feeling sick to his stomach in sadness. 

Later that night, at Kai’s, you stepped out of his shower into the steamy bathroom. You feet hit the soft bathmat, and you tied your hair up into a towel before checking the multiple texts on your phone from your group of friends, sending pics of the night.You smiled at the girls, and rolled your eyes playfully at them. 

1:13 am - Jihyo: Y/N, that Jung Kook guy is soooo cute. He’s like a bunny lol 

1:14 am - Nayeon: I think he likes her??? He stared at her literally all night 

1:15 am - Jihyo: I’m so glad you noticed that too lol. I know you have a thing going on with Kai, but he told you he didn’t want anything serious, right? Idk, maybe you should ask Jung Kook out???

1:17 am - Nayeon: Yeah, and I doubt he’ll ever do it himself. He barely talked tonight? I guess he’s just shy. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Kai called from outside the bathroom. 

“Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry, my friends are texting me.” You responded, putting the phone down and finishing your night time routine. 

You met Kai in the bedroom, and he looked like a dream. Shirtless, sitting up in bed with the tv on, he smiled at you, and you wondered how badly it was going to hurt when you inevitably stopped coming over to see him. Logically, you know this was just casual, and that’s all it would ever be. But that night, you put your cares aside, as you dipped under the covers to take him between your lips, just the way you’ve learned that he likes. 

“Shit, Y/N…” He groaned, placing a firm hand on the top of your bobbing head. “Go a little deeper… Fuck, keep sucking my dick, baby… Just fucking like that…” 

He fell asleep shortly after finishing, leaving you feeling lonely and unsatisfied. You grabbed your phone as he slept, and re read your friends texts. Did Jung Kook have a crush on you? Maybe? You decided to ask him the next time you saw him in class. The worst he could say is no, right? 

But the question was never answered when, the next class period, the seat next to yours was empty. As was the day after, and the day after that. You asked around, only to find that Jung Kook had gone home excused for several weeks, apparently to spend time with family. 

The reason was only partially true. Jung Kook, after the passing of his father, made it a priority and a personal responsibility of his to take care of his mother. No matter how many times she told him to focus on his studies, supportive of his dreams to be an attorney, Jung Kook came home frequently to help her with house chores, cooking and anything else she wasn’t able to do on her own. 

As the pair were in the kitchen, Jung Kook’s hands full with a heavy pot of boiling water and sweet potato noodles, that he carried with an oven mitten on each hand, his mother asked him about his time at university. She sat at the kitchen counter, watching him work as they spoke. The question that always comes up, and that Jung Kook never knew how to answer, was when his mother politely and inevitably  asks, “Is there a special girl you’re seeing?” 

This time, Jung Kook chose to be honest with her. 

“There’s a special girl,” He replies, eyes focused on draining the boiling water into the kitchen sink, careful to keep the noodles in tact. “But I’m not seeing her.” 

“Ah, I see.” His mother nodded understandingly. “Does the special girl have a name?” 

“Yeah… Y/N.” He said with a small, growing smile, and his mother noted how his expression changed just at the mere mention of you. She knew immediately, without any doubt, that her son was absolutely taken with you. 

She smiled as she watched him run around the kitchen, placing the noodles back on the stove, then continuing to cook their family’s special japchae recipe for her. As content as she was with the man her son was becoming, being that he was smart, excelled in school, responsible and kind, she had always hoped he’d meet someone to make him happy. Jung Kook had spent so much of his life taking care of her, behaving just like his father, taking on the gentle protector and provider role. She hoped that he would meet a sweet girl who he could do that for, too. She knew her son too well, and recognized that he has so much more love to give. 

“She must be a great girl, to catch your attention.” She chuckled, and Jung Kook’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment. 

“Eomma, stop.” He whined like a child, causing her to laugh.

“I know it’s true, because you’re a good man, Jung Kook.” She said, watching as he tossed the noodles together with the mix of vegetables and sauce. “Just keep trying, and keep being good to her, like I know you already are. One of these days, I’m sure you’ll win her over.” 

“Thanks, Eomma.” He said quietly and shyly, ending the topic by handing her a beige-colored bowl of japchae. “I hope this tastes like Appa’s.” 

“Your cooking always does.” 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Jung Kook lifted his head from the pillow, and felt around in the dark for his ringing cellphone by his bedside. The clock said 5 a.m. on a Tuesday, several hours before his time to clock in to the firm, and Namjoon’s caller I.D. was bright on his phone screen. He answered the phone with a drowsy, “Hello?” 

“Hello. My apologies for waking you, I know it’s early, but we have a situation.” Namjoon said, his words spilling out quick and panicked.  “I know you’ve recused yourself from the Park case, but you’re the only one I could think of to call. I need you at the hotel he and Y/N are staying at, as soon as you can get here.” 

“Wait, what?” Jung Kook said, wiping sleep from his eyes. “What’s going on?” 

“I’ll explain when you get here, just please, be here soon, ok?” 

“Ok.” Jung Kook answered before hanging up the phone. 

He quickly threw together an outfit that was semi-professional, and did a quick brush of his teeth and hair, before grabbing his keys and phone, and bolting out the front door. Minutes felt like hours as he followed his map to the pinpointed location Namjoon had sent him. The city at this hour was strangely still and quiet, but his thoughts were anything but as he rushed through crosswalks and paced under street lights, thanking the universe for the lack of traffic at this time in the morning. His mind wandered, wondering what was going on, why he was called, and above everything else, are you ok? 

“Jung Kook! I’m so glad you’re here.” Namjoon called for him from across the street. Jung Kook looked both ways before he dashed across the road, meeting him in front of the hotel doors. “I’ll explain while we go up to their suite, come on.” 

Jung Kook matched his pace as they entered the building, quickly locating the elevator, and entering through its opened doors. 

“I called you because Y/N called me.” Namjoon explained, pressing the button for their floor. “You’re from Busan, how much do you know about Jimin? What have you heard?” 

“I uh, I knew his family name, like everyone does.” Jung Kook responded. “Honestly, I didn’t know anything about him until I met him.” 

“Ok, well let me fill you in quickly.” Namjoon said. The elevator dinged as it stopped, and the doors opened for the men to step  out and turn to the right, down the sleepy, luxurious hallway. “Rich kid heir, that much you know. He has a history of alcohol abuse that’s gotten him into some trouble, damaging his family’s reputation among other business leaders, because he’s the next in line to the company’s top position. His father told him not to get in any more trouble, or else he’d be cut off. Getting engaged to a good girl from a good family has been a great look for him. Changing from a party boy into a ‘husband-to-be’ does wonders for saving face.” 

“Ok…” Jung Kook said, listening intently.  

“It’s important to keep up that appearance. I’ve worked as the main attorney for the Park family for a long time now, and one thing to know about these wealthy families, is that while appearance is everything, it’s almost never true.” 

“Are you saying he doesn’t love her?” Jung Kook asked, his heart racing. 

“I’m not saying that. What I’m saying, is that it wasn’t enough to keep him away from the bottle. Y/N called me earlier, and she’s distraught. Something about a big fight, I couldn’t quite understand her over the phone. But it sounds like Jimin’s an absolute train wreck right now, and the last thing I need is for my high profile client and his fiancé to have a public blow out in a five star hotel, right before I'm about to argue that he can't be held liable for his bullshit.” 

“So why am I here?” 

“Personal back up.” Namjoon said, as they pause at the door. “It’s clear that she trusts you, so you’re on my DIY crisis team until we figure this out.” 

Namjoon knocked gently on the door, his demeanor changing from stern and focused, to delicate, matching the tone of the situation. Jung Kook could hear muffled cries behind the door, and all he wanted to do was to barge in, wrap you up in his arms, and take you as far away from this as he could. But he steadied his breath, needing to be a calm presence for you. 

“Y/N, are you ok?” Namjoon asked softly, moving his ear towards the door. “It’s Namjoon, and Jung Kook’s here, too.” 

“Y-Yeah.” You stuttered, a little hiccup to your voice. “O-One minute, please, Mr. Kim. I’ll be right there.” 

“We’ll be right here at the door, ok?” He said, a frown plastered on his face as he looked at Jung Kook, who seemed equally, if not more so, concerned. 

A few, long moments later, the two men heard the click of the lock, and then met the attention of the woman who was standing at the barely-opened door. You were dressed in a pink silk night gown, bare feet on the hardwood floors, and your hair was wet as you seemingly just exited the shower. But your face screamed that you were tired, like you hadn’t slept a wink before they arrived. Dark circles under your eyes, and dropping lids. Your skin dull, and cheeks red. 

“Y/N,” Jung Kook said, heart break evident in his voice. “Can we come in?” 

You nodded, and stepped to the side so they could enter. The luxury, executive suite had been turned upside down. Your clothes were scattered everywhere, across furniture and on the floor, mixed together with empty bottles of varieties of alcohol. As Namjoon walked through the suite, examining the damage, taking note of Jimin’s broken iPhone on the floor of the bedroom, Jung Kook made his way over to you. You slowly moved around the living room, attempting to clean up the mess. 

“I’m s-sorry, he’s not usually like this.” You explained in the smallest voice Jung Kook had ever heard. You collected garments from your wardrobe in your arms. “He’s always so sweet, y’know? He’s so good, he’s just dealing with stress and I…I..”

“Y/N.” Jung Kook cut you off from your rambling. Before even having time to realize what he was doing, his body took over to come in close to you and take your hand in his, making you drop your clothes to the floor. This was not how he wanted to hold your hand for the first time, but you needed someone there to steady you. “Come sit with me. Please.” 

You nodded, and followed him to the couch without letting go of his hand. Jung Kook, in that moment, felt like safety. He felt like a breath of fresh air, just as you were just about to suffocate. Your mind was quick to self-soothe, telling you, Jung Kook’s here. He’ll make it better. You weren’t sure why, chalking it up to a lack of sleep, but you truly believed that. He'll make it better.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Jung Kook asked, as delicately as he could. His thumb caressed your hand, trying to provide you with any comfort he could. 

“I… I wanted to leave.” You said quietly, looking down, unable to meet Jung Kook’s eyes. “He woke up, and-and started drinking again, and I….” You choked up, needing a moment, but tears were already flowing. “I love him, but I can’t watch him do this to himself. So I told him I was leaving, and he got so angry that he took the clothes that I was trying to pack, and threw them everywhere. Then I got upset, and I said I wanted to call Mr. Kim, b-because I knew he would help him. But Jimin didn’t like that, so he broke his phone...he threw it against the bedroom wall, t-to break it, to keep me from finding the number. But I was able to find Mr. Kim’s number anyways when Jimin fell asleep again. He’s just so tired, y’know? He just needs to rest, so he’ll be happy again, but I didn’t know what else to do, so I called…” 

“I’m glad you did.” Jung Kook said, his eyes locked on you. Listening to you try to take care of Jimin, despite how much he hurts you, shattered his heart. You deserve so much better than this, angel. Jung Kook thought to himself. “I- We, Mr. Kim and I, are always going to help you when you need us, ok? Never be afraid to call.” 

Namjoon stepped out of the bedroom, his jaw clenched in frustration, trying to keep his professional composure. 

“Mr. Park is asleep.” He said, his eyes glancing to the way Jung Kook held your hand, but seeing how you’ve settled, he decided against commenting. “Ms. Y/L/N, how are you?” 

“I’m ok.” You mumbled. “I told Jung Kook what happened… But, I called because I wanted to ask if you could help me, Mr. Kim.” 

“Yes, of course.” Namjoon said. “We’ll clean this up, don’t worry.”

"Thank you, but I actually needed help with something a bit more… legal?” You explained, and Jung Kook felt the way you gripped his hand, as though absentmindedly using him to support yourself. “Is there any possibility that we can defer Jimin’s court date, so that he can seek treatment?” 

“You’re asking that your fiancé spends some time in rehab?” Namjoon asks to confirm, and you nod. 

“I think it would be for the best. Last night was… scary, if I’m being honest with you, Mr. Kim.” You said, gripping Jung Kook’s hand once again. “He would never physically hurt me, please don’t misunderstand. I just haven’t seen him lose his temper like that, or drink in such an extreme way before. I don’t see how he can sit in a court room and properly handle himself right now.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” Namjoon sighed. “Ok, Ms. Y/L/N. Between us, I have some pull with this judge, as I’ve worked in his courtroom several times. I’ll make some calls, and see what I can do. But will you do something for me?” 

“What is it?” 

“I want you to separate from Jimin for a while. This isn’t legal advice, and please forgive me for stepping out of line into personal business, but I just… I’m worried about you.” 

“I am, too.” Jung Kook spoke up, earning a look from Namjoon.

“I’m not sure where I’d go…”  

“We can help you move to a different hotel for the time being.” Namjoon offered. “Something nice, so you’re able to have some space.” 

“I don’t know, Mr. Kim. I’d rather not be alone right now…” 

“Then stay with me.” 

You and Namjoon both set your attention on Jung Kook. The words slipped from his lips before he had time to catch them, and now they floated in the air, waiting for a response of any kind. 

“Mr. Jeon, I’m not sure that’s appropriate.” Namjoon said sternly. 

“I’m not involved in this case professionally.” Jung Kook pushed back, before turning his attention to you. “I’m here as a friend. Y/N, I have a guest room that… honestly, may not be as big as what you’d like, but you won’t have to be alone. Please, just let me do this for you.” 

Namjoon didn’t like the hopeful tone of his colleague’s voice, or the line this was potentially crossing, but with your reservations about being alone, and his worry over keeping you with Jimin, he wasn’t sure he had a better option. 

“Ok.” You responded, the small smile on your lips being the first you’ve had in many hours. “That sounds nice, Jung Kook. Thank you.” 

 “Any time.” He responded, sounding relieved. 

“Let me grab some of my things, and I’ll meet you at the door.” You said, grabbing a handful of clothes from the floor and going to the bedroom to grab your bag. 

Namjoon shot Jung Kook a knowing look from across the room, with eyebrows raised and arms crossed. 

“I’m trusting you.” Namjoon told him as soon as he knew you weren’t listening. “Don’t let that be a mistake by being a fucking idiot.” 

“I won’t.” Jung Kook said, sure of himself and of the situation. 

A few silent moments passed before you were standing at the door with a weekender bag in hand. Jung Kook gave Namjoon a nod as he got off the couch and walked over to you, taking your bag to carry for you, and opening the door for you to exit out of the hotel suite. 

[aingeal98]

One little... Not even nitpick but just sad observation. This plotline they're setting up with Dinah and Cass trying to protect Babs from a future assassin looks very fun but I can't stop thinking about the conflict and drama it could create if DC let Babs be Oracle again, wheelchair most definitely included. It was a common character beat that the real Oracle Babs hated anyone seeing her as weak or powerless (Rightfully and understandably so because you know. Ableist society.) like it's a big driving motivation for her! Oracle gives her power and let's her control the narrative. People seeing her or even hinting that she could be weak and in need of protection, going above her head and treating her as a victim or a damsel in distress? Yeah she does Not react well to that. If she found out that Dinah and Cass, two of the people she loves most, were secretly trying to protect her, no matter how good their intentions are there's no way that doesn't blow up into at least one fight where no one is fully right and no one is fully wrong but it gets nasty and hurts everyone involved.

But with Babs in the Batgirl suit I just... Don't see any of that happening. My guess is they'll just let Babs in on everything right away and have very little conflict between the three of them. Of course I'd love to be proven wrong! I think there's a really good set up here for this plotline to do things with these characters and bonds that hasn't been done in a while. And fhey're slowly getting like 20% of Barbara's actual personality back instead of being The Smurfette. But at the same time, I've yet to see anything that makes me think DC would be willing to let a writer dive substantially into that angry, defensive side of Barbara. Because it's messy and ugly and also because it exists due to the trauma and ableism she suffered, and DC would rather print a million panels of her sitting in front of a computer with her legs crossed than ever let her be truly Oracle again.

[oswednesday]

Ah okay yes so! I haven't finished the whole book yet but I have doubts it would come up again anywhere else-- overall I've greatly enjoyed it except ONE THING really left me feeling disappointed and kind of confused, and it's (idk what numbers because the pages aren't numbered..?) the first 2 pages of bills backstory, which is before he left/destroyed his home world. I was very much hoping the book would dive deeper into the flatland-esque lore that's been hinted at both in the show and the bill ama that follows the og flatland idea that more sides = higher in society etc, which would imply Bill was one of the more subjugated shapes, and while I can't remember far enough back to the ama about where the 3D dimension came in, it's probably safe to say him breaking into it (be it by intrinsic power he had or power he obtained somehow) was a way he would become a higher being. I found it strange that in the tbob, they story just seems to be that Bill was a normal dude everyone liked, his sight into the 3rd dimension was merely incidental, and like accidentally destroyed the world in the process? Which like, maybe the argument that could be made here is that Bill wrote it and he's lying, which I could believe maybe for the second half perhaps pretending he can't exactly remember what happened or something. But why would he lie about the first part, if in the past he already alluded to how he was seen as lesser in his home world? and wouldn't it only be MORE convincing to make the reader of the book trust him if he were to be truthful about the sad aspect to his past where he was mistreated, because that's obviously something everyone can empathize with? It's strange, it reads to me more like a word of God choice ....but why?

oh my god i feel soooo many things about this i gotta collect my thoughts in some sort of order

but i would frankly be astonished if i was wrong, my take away from the book as a whole tbh, is that alex actually read the flatlands between the ama and making the book gdgdgdgdgfdg

if not for the first time, then a refresher i think the treatment of women in Society and bill's interaction with them is a major highlight in the book; like his interaction with women is a much bigger focus in a way that feels tied to how much hes downplaying the destruction of reality and also his interaction with men as well and what we can extrapolate from like the victorian style culture the book presents but, like entering a space where its intentional and not just an author wiggling material about into a different shape , i think bill's goal with like the narrative crafting is showing the potential Next Guy that hes a really cool dude you want to party with him hes hypemanning himself, like i think it speaks to like the driving force behind his actions and the function/purpose this book really has that he doesnt not even think to play up the victim and crank up the sob story for the reader

he does do a lot of victim blaming and a lot of woe is me about certain parts but not in anyway that feels like he understands what and why hes even saying it, it all feels built to deftly avoid -hey that shouldnt have happened to me Period- hes like gutting himself for attention too with it, like he wants to be seen having value and being like uh yeah i was underclass will make him feel unimportant, is why i think that bit gets underplayed, and i think with the lying to me at least it came off as like the truth of the matter is like he can say whatever and no one exists to fact check him like hes told the stuff so many times in so many different ways to just get what he wants --does he even know the truth of the matter anymore? does it like, matter to anyone whatever he says ever anyway? like its not really important to Anyone, hes the only thing like him to exist ever forever and no one is ever going to be able to Understand him again

was my interpretation of all that but it is, also perfectly possible that no one ever looked at the ama ever again fdfsdfdsfd

[velvetvexations]

believing women are inherently better, good, more caring, less manipulative & (most importantly) less capable of abuse than men are is misogynistic and sexist, actually. because it's infantilizing women. it's treating them like babies who are incapable of doing anything with (malicious) thought-out intent. or in worse cases, it's treating them as biologically less capable of making choices that have negative conseuqneces or impacts. which. is bio/gender essentialist & misogyny. idk. im just rambling now but i saw a post about how transmascs are held to a higher standard and expected to be better than cis men & i can't help but think that that's because we continue to be viewed as women by some radfems. (in my mind there are 2 different ideas radfems hold irt transmascs. one is that transmascs should be better than cis men because they were "female socialized" and the other is that transmascs are worse than cis men because at least a cis man might someday be a trans woman, but a transmasc is choosing to be a man.) anyway sorry to type so much. tired and sad, lost my train of thought. thank you for alwYs engaging in like. polite ways with your followers who want to discuss these issues.

It fucking sucks, anon. We cannot allow this, not only for transmascs even but also because it's logically impossible to declare men inherently bad without a belief in either bioessentialism or male socialization.

I don't know what that last word means, but I look identical to a cis man.

This is such good advice for the entire human race. Get boots. It will make you so happy.

Having feelings like that destigmatized would be a good thing, but it is and always will be a deeply weird and uncomfortable thing to say out loud to someone who has them.

Shhh, it's okay anon. <3

It's mostly an intersex thing, which includes some AFAB people who actually fully went through masculinizing puberty that required transitioning away from.

We're all equally capable of harming each other.

I'd seen it before, but not since the oceans drank Atlantis.

I love you, anon. <3

Tell them again and be as forceful as you can about it. Make it clear it hurts you, badly, and that they need to respect you and not erase the fact that you're targeted by transphobes as well.

If anyone gives you shit for your characters I'll go to the mat for so hard there'll be a crater.

The amount of exorsexism I've gotten from identifying as a male girl, despite not even identifying as non-binary, drives me off a bridge.

[queeniecook]

November 16

After watching a movie at the cinema in Brindle Bay, Doctor Annalise Blake and her date, Frances Lurch began a stroll in the park. Snow began to fall very lightly from the sky.

Annalise felt happy walking with Lurch through the dog park, glad to get away for a bit. Work had been hectic the last few days and she hadn't been able to spend much time with her suitor, despite the fact that he lives in her home. She chats with him a bit about the movie before it hits her that she still hasn't made good on her promise to her sister, despite Liberty delivering on her end of the deal.

Annalise takes a breath she doesn't need, trying to prepare herself for the conversation.

"We need to discuss marriage and your wanting to become a vampire." Annalise decides to just jump into it rather than prolong even broaching the subjects. 

"Agreed." Lurch says with a nod of his head. He'd been wanting to talk about it all for weeks but his love always seems to wiggle her way out of the conversations or she's simply busy with her work.

"I don't know which one gives me more anxiety. You wanting to become a vampire or the idea of marriage. It's not the idea that it's to you just...well you know how things ended with Asa." Thankfully she doesn't have to explain her first marriage to Lurch, he was there for most of it. 

Lurch doesn't take offense to what Annalise tells him. "We don't have to marry anytime soon, I just want you to know that is my intention for us. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I knew that the moment I saw you but you were married to Asa then and it wasn't appropriate for me to voice or even feel those things, so I kept them to myself."

Annalise smiles briefly but nods her head. The idea of him feeling something for her that long warms her heart but also makes her sad that he had to endure unrequited - at the time- love. Knowing he isn't planning on marrying so soon gives her a bit of relief as well.

"Which brings us to the topic of me being turned. I've talked to Jackson a lot about it. I haven't just jumped into this idea without thought or research. I know I'd be giving up certain things, like my life as a human. Being able to produce children- unless I track down Caleb's magical friend - though that isn't really a possibility for us anyway since you're unable to have children." Lurch says the last part gently. Though Annalise has never said it, he thinks it's one of the things she regrets most about her choice to become a vampire. "We can adopt someday - if we wish to. There's options."

Annalise looks over at Lurch and watches his breath in the cold air. It's something she no longer can see pass her own lips in the cold weather. Something so simple. The idea of taking that from him breaks her heart. "I want you to do some more research and really considering all the pros and cons. Don't just make that choice because you don't want to leave me someday." She speaks from experience. That was one of the driving factors in her own choice. Not wanting to leave the man she loved alone when the grim reaper pulled her number when she became old and gray.  "You need to be absolutely sure. I don't want you to have the regrets I have."

Her mind briefly drifts to Asa and the experiments James is performing on him to cure vampirism. If successful, it could end her life as a vampire and give her back her human life but she doesn't trust James at all. She can't count on the cure for herself or anyone else.

"I will do that." Lurch agrees. He knows time is always fleeting but she has a point. He needs to be sure and at least she didn't says no to marrying him someday. Of course when the time comes, he plans to propose to her properly. She deserves that and so much more in his eyes. 

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 18: The Price To Pay

Okay, I admit it. This part of my job is the worst.

The past three mind-numbing hours have been nothing but listening to this dunderhead CEO rant about his new Ferrari. I don’t know what’s worse, the egotistical topic or how he keeps pushing off groping me as normal PDA. God, I can’t wait to kill him.

After the rushed meal he wraps an arm around me and all but tugs me down the sidewalk. Thank God this dress is modest because this perv doesn’t deserve a single inch of any woman. The only downside is that my arms are exposed. The past hours have left my skin vulnerable to scratches and bruises from his ‘love touches.’

“Another date later?” He smirks at me. “Huh baby?”

I stop in my tracks and glare daggers at him. “No.”

His face twitches. “Excuse me?”

“I said no.”

Apparently ‘no’ doesn’t exist in his vocabulary. “I don’t think you-”

“No, you don’t understand.” I push him away and jab a finger into his chest. “Your wealth gives you no position over me. You did not hire me as an escort or esteemed hooker. This was a simple date, nothing more.”

I want to kill him so bad! But this is definitely not the place nor the right time. The Reaper needs to kill him. Not me. And it needs to be somewhere private. Not in front of a five-star restaurant.

The man, still wearing the same dumbfounded expression, gets in his fancy car and drives away. Why do the clean-cut men always have to be so snobbish?

“Hey, Calico! Care to join me?”

Well, not all of them. Bruce Wayne may be rich but at least he treats everyone on the same level.

I look over to where the billionaire playboy is waiting by the place I just came from. This wouldn’t be a date with the intention of killing him. Can I risk it? Does he think I’m being paid for this?

“Sorry Mr. Wayne-”

“Please, call me Bruce,” he smiles warmly.

I can’t help but grow my own sad smile. “Sorry Bruce, but I’m letting go of being an escort.”

“I know,” he replies and walks closer. “I noticed the marks on your arm. I know it’s your decision but you really should inform the authorities if you’re being abused.”

Yes, I could do that. But that leads to investigations. Investigations that might look too closely in my apartment and discover my secret. I can handle a few bruises without getting the police involved.

“I’m fine, really. Maybe it’s just a bad taste in men.” 

A bad taste that is intentional. The men’s behavior pinpoints my targets. I’ve come this far without letting love into my life and for good reason. The fear toxin proved that. Love clouds the senses and increases vulnerability. But if I could choose… If I could have a normal life, I wouldn’t want a hunky jock. I want someone gentle, thoughtful… smart. I guess sapiosexual thoughts are in the works after all. Like a certain someone I know…

“Well if you’re open to the idea, I’d like to take you out to dinner,” Bruce offers. “Not a date. Nothing too fancy. Just two friends.”

So I guess we’re friends now. “Do you promise a healthy dose of sparkling conversation?”

He chuckles at my witty question. “Potentially. If not then I promise the roast chicken is to die for.”

Maybe a normal evening is just what I need. “Alright, I’ll bite.”

He offers an arm, like a real gentleman, and escorts me to a comfortable seat in a corner booth without any uncomfortable touching. We both order the chicken and half an hour later I’m having a normal conversation instead of plotting to kill someone.

“Have you heard about the Reaper?”

Bruce’s casual question makes me pause in-between chewing. It was bound to come up eventually. The news hasn’t stopped reporting my kills so it’s only natural he would ask that. He could ask anyone.

“Rumors,” I answer. “I hear she drinks blood. Some say she’s in kahoots with Batman.”

A few false claims never hurt to hide a lie.

The mention of the caped crusader sparks his interest. “What do you think of him?”

“He’s far better than the police, I’ll tell you that. I don’t care what the news says. I don’t think he killed Dent. Though I must admit his methods appear sloppy.”

“Sloppy?”

“Yes, sloppy. He doesn’t kill, yet some of Gotham’s villains faced death because of him. Like Harvey Dent.”

His arrogant mask falters. “Harvey Dent was not a villain, Calico.”

“I heard differently.” I don’t think we’re on the same page for him to use my first name. “You didn’t invite me out because my parents were rich, did you Bruce?”

Would he want to associate with me if I was any other pedestrian on the street? Or are my instincts right and I really can’t trust anyone?

“Calico… How have you been coping with your parents’ death?” he asks softly.

Is he serious? That’s old news. I’m done grieving. My phobia of failing them is over. If anything their death has helped me become free of it.

“I’m over it. Death is death. They’re gone.” I don’t mean to sound cold but slips out. “I’ve found other things to give my life meaning.”

“What about the Arkham incident?”

I arch my eyebrows. “Their mistake.”

He knows. He must know. Why else would he be asking these questions? He- Uh-oh.

Why the heck is Harley standing outside waving her arms at me? Another good question is how has nobody noticed her? 

“Forgive me Bruce, I’m afraid I’ve been called to an emergency.”

“Everything alright?” he asks as I grip my clutch and try to make a quick escape.

“My friend’s having a small crisis. Nothing too concerning but I do need to go. Thanks for dinner.”

One would think he’d take a hint but instead he tries to follow me. “Calico wait- If you ever need to reach out-”

I halt and hold up a hand to stop him. “I’m a former psychiatrist, Mr. Wayne. I’m pretty sure I’m aware of my own psyche.” As well as yours. “Goodnight.”

Thank God he stays behind. That would be completely awkward if I had to introduce him to my hyper friend. Harley’s picked out an outfit that’s surprisingly tame for her standards. Checkered leggings, knee-high converse, red and black top, and two perky pigtails.

“Hiya, Callie! I’m here to grab ya for Crane. Said something about an experiment involving death.”

“If he’s looking for a mortician’s advice, might I suggest a licensed professional? I have a method to my madness and I’d appreciate it if it went uninterrupted.”

The blonde pouts. “Aw, c’mon! Can’t ya help a friend out?”

“He is anything but friendly,” I bite. “Quit the act, Harley. We are not, nor will we ever be an item. So give it a rest!”

But she doesn’t. Instead she grabs my arm and drags me away. What is it with me being pulled around today? Can’t I just have a quiet evening alone? I shouldn’t fight her, though. Harley’s a loose cannon and for all I know she’ll blow up a whole block if I refuse. So it’s back down to the subway tunnels we go. Down go the walls I’ve been building and all at once my heart races at the thought of seeing the fear doctor.

“We’re here!” Harley chimes. “I brought her, just like ya said!”

Dr. Crane, sitting in a chair with his back turned, merely hums. “Thank you Ms. Quinn, that will be all.”

After the clown girl cartwheels out the door he finally turns away from the vials he’s working on and takes an extra second to admire my attire. His gaze sends shivers down my spine and butterflies twirling in my stomach. Get a grip, Prentiss!

“You’re dressed nicely. Did I interrupt something?”

Keep your cool. “Actually you saved me from an awkward dinner, Dr. Crane.”

He nods. “I see. With whom?”

“Bruce Wayne. Don’t give me that look, he was just being a good friend.”

He’s obviously triggered by the news. Whether it’s from jealousy or concern remains a mystery.

“You two are friends now?” he asks accusingly.

I shrug. “He seems to think so. I got a free meal.”

“Whatever.” He waves the subject away and gestures to his lab table. “There’s some test results I’d like you to see. Some of the subjects didn’t take well to the dose and showed certain signs postmortem I think you’ll find interesting.”

“Oh. Hold on a second.”

I reach into my clutch and pull out my reading glasses. As fun as sneaking around at night has been, it’s taken its toll on my sight. Now let’s see… Interesting. Increased stress on the chordae tendineae. This person literally died of a broken heart. What kind of fear is this linked to?

“What are you wearing?”

I look up from the notes and find Crane staring at me, captivated by something on my face.

“They’re called glasses, Dr. Crane. Like the kind you’re wearing. Duh.”

“No- I mean- Why?”

Is this a trick question? “It’s called getting old. My eyes aren’t what they used to be and I’d rather not wander around Gotham half-blind.” He’s still starting. “What?”

He blinks a few times and shifts his head to look back at his notes. “They make you look… good.”

I scrunch my nose. “Good-good or good-bad?”

“Cute.” He pauses. “And sexy.”

My pulse snaps. He thinks I- What? I mean, I’m flattered. Anyone could say that. But why does it feel different coming from him?

“Um thanks?” Time to go! “If you want my input I’d say that your test subjects have a history of troubled relationships. If that is all, I bid you goodnight.”

Go go go! I hustle back up the stairs and- And it’s raining now. Perfect. Maybe if I stick to the side then the canopies will- No it’s still sopping wet. In less than ten seconds I’m completely soaked. Oh well. At least it’s peaceful.

“You like the rain?” Dr. Crane asks from behind.

Of course he followed me. “The smell and the noise, yes. The constant state of being drenched… not so much.”

He hums approvingly. “I for one find the sight most pleasant.”

No doubt my dress is dripping wet. But the only thing revealing anything are my sleeves slipping off.

“Joke’s on you,” I grumble and tug my hair away. “My dress is not see-through.”

“But your feminine curves aren’t.”

Damn. He’s right. Thank God it’s too dark to see my scars. Not that I should care… But I do. In some bizarre twist of fate I’ve come to want to win his affection. But would anyone be willing to ignore these marks?

“You can look but no touching,” I tease and inch away into the pouring rain. “Another time, Dr. Crane.”

He wants to say more but we both keep quiet. I don’t know what’s holding him back but I’m grateful for it. I’m trying to fight my own battle of wits against the sudden tug at my heart. Maybe someday I’ll meet the same fate as those test subjects.

[crashingwavesinmyworld]

I’m not gonna act like I’m perfect and that I’ve never made mistakes or sometimes said hurtful things when upset (who hasn’t though) but I’m tired of being treated like the villain in a situation where I’m the victim and I’m tired of any way i try to defend myself or when I’m just trying to get answers is seen as me having a “BPD meltdown” or “lashing out.”

I have every right to be hurt and angry and sad but I think I’m handling it pretty well regardless??? And I wouldn’t need to constantly defend myself or speak about how hurt I am or any of that if this dickhead had just properly communicated with me in the first place or at the very least didn’t try to paint me as some dangerous crazy person for something that wasn’t my fault and like even if it hadn’t been about me fainting and was about me being depressed/suicidal, once again I was the only one hurting there no one else was getting hurt it doesn’t make me dangerous you ableist fucks and if it was such an issue why did he assure me everything was fine? He blatantly lied to me and so did his girlfriend and I don’t know at this point what was true and what isn’t true and it’s honestly disgusting that she thinks I’m the problem and has been using my BPD as a way to demonize me.

This was all because of her coward boyfriends inability to communicate like a mature adult. But I didn’t even fucking do anything I’ve been trying to move on. All that happened is last night after I finally had felt okay and strong enough to hang out in the food court which I haven’t been able to do cuz I feel like I’m being watched. But then after I came out of the bathroom his girlfriend was sitting outside, she didn’t see me right away and I wanted to say hi but I didn’t cuz of what she’d said a few weeks ago about him not wanting her talking to me and as dumb as it is I wanted to respect that, I went and sat away from her and went back to my music or whatever I was doing.

But then when she did see me she walked away without saying anything. That hurt a lot but what hurts worse is he eventually came out and saw me and walked past me too without saying something, and his girlfriend intentionally parked the car right by where I was sitting so I had to see him get in the car, I tried leaving after this I was gonna go to the grocery store but when I was walking there suddenly he was driving and he was stopped in front of me and he looked at me again and so I turned and went the other way but he ended up parking in a random parking spot by where I was walking and got out of the car for no reason seemingly just to make sure I saw him then when I kept walking he got back in like I feel like he was trying to torture me on purpose. Like who tf does this?

Maybe I’m being paranoid and I know they would deny doing this but it just all felt very intentional. I can’t believe I ever called these people my friends. No matter how many problems I have I wouldn’t have ever done something like this to them. Sometimes I wonder if this is karma for my past mistakes cuz I have said and done a lot of things I regret. I’ve always tried to make things right and apologize and correct my behavior but maybe to the universe that isn’t good enough.

But even then even though it’s not an excuse most things I’ve said or done that have been wrong usually happened when I was hurt first by whoever it was or I saw them treating someone else poorly and that doesn’t make it okay obviously and it’s not an excuse but im just saying I’m not a vindictive person or vicious person purposely out to get people or harm people.

Most of the examples I can think of were several years ago anyway before I even knew these people. And usually if anything I may say something bitchy or mean after being provoked or backed into a corner (usually to my mom more than anyone) but like these people are acting like I was a threat to their safety… I am not this dangerous crazy person they’re making me out to be.

I cared so deeply for them I would have done anything for them and it makes me sick that I could care so much for people that could just so easily hurt me then move on like it’s nothing. I think the differences between me and them is that if I say or do something wrong whether I realizes it at the time or realizes it later I always feel deep regret and always always apologize and try to make it right. Whereas they are blaming me and making it seem like my justified hurt is irrational. Well her and not him because he still hasn’t said a damn word to me. Coward. God just the thought of him makes me sick. I can’t believe I used to think he was the sweetest guy I’d ever met. And that I used to think he was the one guy to treat me with respect despite seeing me at my worst (about 6 years ago) and even recently before all of this he wasn’t treating me any differently everything was fucking fine that’s why I don’t fucking understand!!! And like the fact that he knows too how scared I was of getting hurt and losing people….asshole. He knows I felt so much pain which I was why I went to the hospital which he was so supportive and sweet about but now I’m in worse pain than I was then and he’s nowhere to be found. But that’s the thing I never needed or wanted emotional support from him. I just enjoyed talking to him about books and music. It’s all just so fucked and in sick of it all

[kosmosxipo]

I’ve been thinking about my hometown a lot lately. I wrote a whole essay about how I love it like a family member, for everything that means. It both infuriates me to tears and brings me immense amounts of joy, makes me achingly sad but I will defend it to anyone who talks shit about it, because fuck you, what do you know? My city still bears the burdens of sins committed in its name going back 150 years. But what’s driving me nuts right now is how systematically huge parts of it were destroyed. Let me show you:

I believe this is around the mid-1930s or 1940s. Before the interstates and suburbs and white flight. Here’s that same area now:

This neighborhood was redlined in the name of Urban Renewal. This is what 80 years of that looks like.

A wider shot, this time of Sportsman’s Park, where both the Cardinals and the Browns played. The streets are alive in this pic:

There’s even streetcars. A whole network of them that would get you all over the city. Here’s that same area now.

I’m posting this because I want you to understand that this was intentional. City planners like Robert Moses wanted exactly this, the more non-white and non-Christian, non-western European people it happened to, the better. In St. Louis we had Harland Bartholomew. That man who wanted to tear down iconic neighborhoods. The man that wanted to build expressways through our parks. This is his map from 1947:

A lot of those areas were marked as “blighted.” The places above? The picture of the stadium and that neighborhood? A blight. They were either destroyed or left to rot. A small but thriving Chinatown was destroyed to make way for a new stadium. An entire Black neighborhood erased by the Interstate — if you ever look at your city and wonder why the interstate weaves around like it does, you can almost guarantee that it was hitting non-white, non-Christian, non-western European communities.

I’ve been thinking about how places like St. Louis were destroyed by white men, and then turned into punchlines in movies like National Lampoon’s Vacation, or used as post-apocalyptic sets in Escape From New York. They destroyed my city, and then turned and laughed at us. Harlan Batholomew retired and lived comfortably in the wealthy suburb of Clayton, away from what he created, until his death. I always wonder if he was pleased with what he did.

[v2xe]

i got too carried away and ended up hitting the tag limit 🫠 hope it's alright if i just put this here instead

#SDJFGSDFNM asgsdfasd AGSDF GURGLES LIKE IM CHOKING ON MOUTHWASH FINALLY SOME GOOD FUCKING FOOD#I CANT BELOIEVE IM ONLY SEEING THIS FIVE DAYS AFTER IT WAS POSTED good lird#see i understand why there would be a split in the fandom abt this bc there is also a split in tumblr user v2xe#when i first played my reading was that sarah and jack's relationship was INTENDED to be portrayed as romantic#only the writers kind of expected them sharing some friendly lines + jack being the protag and sarah#being the princess would be enough for the audience to go “ah yes. romance”#and that the tragic and borderline romantic subtext jack has w astos was just incidental in the way it happens when writers#accidentally end up developing male characters and their relationships more than female ones#esp since se's games' track record w this is…….not great#(<-she is haunted by secondhand accounts from the tranches of ff16's writing)#and tbh i was ready to just assume this was my own little interpretation where it isn't that deep but it could be. and i could just build#myself a fun little sandbox in the hole i dug where the story could have expanded certain themes further but didn't#but after reading that one interview where the writers were like "maybe sarah was in love with him maybe she was just infatuated with what

#he represented" i turned into one of those shitty gore stick figures because what the fuck!! the writing agrees??#which meshes perfectly w her being sheltered which!! while i thought abt it i never really went into it like this and it makes!! sense!!#& a the same time yeah!! sarah IS a symbol. which having played ff1 i think was a cool way to go about expanding her role from that gam#oh so she's a symbol? she's a reward? the motivator that pulls you along to start your journey? ok fine then. i'll give you a Symbol#and if you asked me i think jack genuinely cared/s(?) about her (just not in a romantic sense)#and unlike other things i say here i can say w 100% confidence that the writers wanted us to notice he cares#like it always fascinated me how in the jp version jack's speech patterns change DRASTICALLY whenever he's speaking to sarah#idk much japanese but the formal/respectful way he spoke stood out massively compared to his usual form of speech#i get that this could be harder to portray in english without seeming unnatural but i'm sad they didn't include this tbh#bc we don't see him talk to ANYONE like this in the game i believe- not the king or queen not astos not anyone#they WANTED you to notice. they put a big neon sign pointing at jack and sarah there's SOMETHING important here#(tangent for some reason the spanish version got this backwards and it's ash and jed who address sarah formally while jack speaks in the same blunt manner...but that#version was so rushed it still has placeholder text in the script so i woulnt put too much faith in it having like…authorial intent lmao)

#& in general there are some very slight differences between the eng and jp ver that imo carry v different implications?#like how in eng jack just kinda sounds annoyed at sarah's request and his “of course” comes across as exasperated and sarcastic rather than#genuinely polite- which makes the scene of him tapping his foot seem like an intentional gesture of “stfu already” rather than “desperately#trying to contain the wave pure compulsive rage that drives me for 2 minutes so i can be polite to this girl" yknow? #anyway what i mean is that its interesting how his affection for sarah was also "weaponized" for the plan like the one he has for his friends #and yet sarah's role is more as a symbol than an emotional catalyst? to me at least-& i keep wondering WHY it's diff for her in particular #&it's not bc she was WRITTEN poorly i feel-if the writers did fall for that kind of trap we wouldn't have sophia or neon imo #it almost feels like theres all these conspicuous arrow signs pointing at something but i cant fucking see what it is??

#but after reading this i can see how that was kinda the point i think #at the end of the day this is jack's story. and us experiencing everything from his pov at all times is a big part of why the story works so well #it makes sense he wouldn't care for anyone's emotions or inner thoughts until it's too late- therefore the game doesn't show them #& sadly that includes sarah and what's going through her head #bc i kind of wish we couldve seen more of it- what was she thinking as she died? what did she feel? was it clean and straightfoward? #hope? despair? sadness? nothing at all? too many things at once? did she feel betrayed as she remembered? did she feel resentment for the #one man who could change her world by watching her die? how was she any different from the organic reconoissance unit Iving dead in a floati #-ng island somewhere surrounded by dead bats and FUCK I haven't even talked about astos yet #it's a tragedy that despite them having canonically interacted multiple times we never get to hear any of it :(( #tho i have to put a big * on all this because i know that this could very much be me critiquing the game on what i WISH it did #rather than on how it archieved what it was actually trying to do #imo sarah has the markings of god's little lamb(symbol of hope) most likely to be slaughtered #dare i say final fantasy's very own anthy himemiya #there's something about a character whose purpose is to essentially be a symbol #and who is also a sheltered young woman whose hopefulness is not a flaw but who is perhaps too idealistic for her own good that really intrigues me!! #and from that view i like how you can see her unwavering idealism as sheltered naivety or as something good and celebrated(? in the narrative #anyway sarah both as a character and how she fits into jack's story leave so so much room for fun stuff and i really appreciate that #in a better world i think they would have a lovely friendship

#ok running out of power now so ill stop and hope this doesnt read like gibberish or realize i missed sth if i reread it in the morning #i am so so sorry for the wall of tags none of this has much of a throughline this is just thought vomit bc this post made me Think #by which i mean this post is rearranging my brain and activating neural pathways i didn't even know i had rn #& in all seriousness im so so so glad i saw this!! even if i wish i had done it sooner!! its great to read someone's thoughts like this <33

"You Never Forget Your First Love."

The other day, a mutual (hi! you know who you are I think probably hello hi! thank you for the Posting Impetus!) said something that made me curious (for, like, the 80th time, actually; lol. I Have Thoughts) about something: what's the split on people who subscribe to the "Stranger of Paradise probably intended for us to believe that Jack & Sarah were in love" mindset, vs. not? In general, but ESPECIALLY around these parts.

I genuinely didn't read it that way myself (& I do NOT normally give media (general) this much credit, but the writing in this game is sublime; I had no choice but to fully engage Scholar Mode on it), + I think it's interesting that SPECIFICALLY any of my fellow tumblr people / AO3-heads / Gay People Online / etc. seem to have. (I expect nothing from people who haven't been basting themselves in the same online sub-subcultures as me for over a decade. They're allowed to write wrong things on wikis, and have done so already; it's whatever.)

I wanna metapost badly again, so let's go. Join me. No poll. If you have an opinion on this, I'm looking directly into your eyes and beckoning you towards your own keyboard + also the reblog button / comment section, like a weird ghost. What did you think when you first played the game?? What do you think right now? What are you about to think after you have read a bunch of my words. Tell Me. I Need To Know This.

Spoilers for, idk, everything? Today we will use everything we've got to talk about Princess Sarah.

1. As a Narrative Element

This game makes a point of referring to Sarah as things like "a symbol of hope and peace" as often as possible, & when it isn't doing that she's usually in the role of An Object Or Device Of Some Kind, anyway. She's important because she's capable of holding light and dark in balance & SOMEONE'S gotta hold onto this dark crystal for safekeeping, and also we're gonna need to upset that balance on purpose later. There's that conversation in the Wicked Arbor about whether the Strangers would "choose" her (as opposed to "treasure") as the "reward" for succeeding in their mission[1], & there's the one in the Sunken Shrine where Jed asks Jack what he thinks of her and Jack says that he doesn't care about her as a person[2] BUT that protecting her is mission-critical (lol), too.

Sarah's death is metaphorically charged. It's the point of no return: the dark crystal breaks, the balance of light & dark gets extremely ruined, & Literally All The Darkness In Cornelia converges in one place (Fool's Missive XXVII). That's the payoff for the "symbol of hope and peace" motif, and communicating this idea that "the metaphorical light of hope just For Real Died, Like Catastrophically Imploded, No Take-Backs" feels to me like it was the highest priority here. Second-highest goes to "Jack had way more humanity before, but he set it aside on purpose and is actively in the middle of losing the rest of it." "Sort of." "I'm not getting into what counts as humanity or doesn't because if I did we would be here forever."

Basically, I'm saying that the tidiest read on the situation is "Jack despairs because Sarah dying means in a very literary and final way that everything is ruined forever, which doesn't necessarily have anything to do with, like, Love (romantic)." I don't think the text of the game is particularly signaling that Love (romantic) is involved, and I think that if it meant to, it would be more obvious about it. You could bundle "an romance" into the "humanity" thing if you wanted to, but I'm not inclined to, based on some additional list items that you can read below this one.

[1] The fact that Neon ALSO says she feels bad for her for being thought of in this way only reinforces my conviction that the game is pointing at Sarah & yelling "REMEMBER THAT SHE IS MOSTLY A SYMBOL!", tbh. Who wants to go point out how freaky the mechanics of Being An Royalty are w/ me and the boys??

[2] I will give the Wiki WrongPosters this: I can totally see this as some kind of irony thing, given that he's still missing like a fucktillion of his memories when he says it. However! As mentioned above, I have other reasons not to read it as evidence that he was ever, like, romantically interested in her.

2. As a Sheltered Youth™

We don't have a TON of information to work with RE: Sarah as, like, a person, but here are a couple of hard facts to start with: she's 19 (per the data book, but she'd have to be somewhere in the 18-to-early-20's age range regardless or her whole deal wouldn't really make much sense, imo. She's a baby...!), and she's royalty. I think this ties into her utility as a walking metaphor, among other things; she's archetypically young, fresh, & idealistic. I'd call her naïve but the game obviously isn't interested in portraying it as a weakness, so positive words only; why not.

You could argue that people look to her as a symbol of hope because she hasn't directly experienced enough strife to exhibit hopelessness or fear in response to bad news in the abstract. I find it interesting that before Jack, like, knocks the wind out of her & tells Sophia to take her outside so she can see for herself how bad things have gotten at the end of the game, she says that her duty is to die with her people if she has to, & it doesn't even seem to occur to her that she could lead at least some of them away to safety...? When she changes her mind, she still talks about herself as a symbol before she ever uses the word "leader". She sees HERSELF in terms of symbols and metaphors, and takes action based on her designated role As One Of Those. Not very practical.

There's also the dialogue you can have with the queen the first time you're allowed to run around in the throne room at the beginning of the game, where she asks Jack to smile in front of her daughters (NOT just Mia; daughters, plural). Even if she only means "dude can you be polite please," the fact that this is The thing she has to say to Jack is telling. Is it going to upset your 19-year-old daughter to see that the Guy Whose Job It Is To Kill Monsters looks serious? Why do you think this? Does your 19-year-old daughter understand how serious the situation is, generally speaking? Do you not WANT her to for some reason? Boats don't work anymore unless a weird elf messes with them first. Not thinking very hard about the implications of this is something a sheltered person does.

Residual time loop un-memories aside, a young woman in this situation is so obviously going to have a huge crush on Jack Garland no matter what. He Is So Cool, first of all, & he's also Different from the adult men she gets to see on an everyday basis (family, guards, rando townspeople[3]...). It's not like the political social scene could POSSIBLY be thriving in this world, either; it all seems to be one kingdom we're dealing with and they're kind of busy with the external threat of being Under Fucking Attack By Monsters. Does she even get fun treats like "handsome visiting dignitaries" & what-have-you? The game doesn't present us with any potential options, here. Jack is mysterious, he has special-boy Warrior of Light status, his one job & apparent life's purpose is protecting the kingdom she loves, he's pretty nice to her (even in later cycles he at least goes out of his way to be polite!), & additionally, he's shredded. THIS makes sense to me.

There's a Q&A in the data book that has something to say about JACK as a symbol & what that has to do with this whole thing but we'll get there. We'll get there.

[3] Tangent: what's up with how Cornelia's entire adult male population appears to consist of aging queens. Why did they only make models that look Like That for the NPCs? It's awesome but I have 1 quastion

3. JACK JUMPSCARE !

I'm not about to say that he's just humoring her, or anything, but please humor ME for one second & put yourself in Jack's shoes. Not the default shoes; we can have more fun than that. Maybe the Banded Boots. Blurple ones? Shaped like a cartoon would wear them? Big spikes on the back for no reason? I love those things. Anyway, you're Jack. You're working for literally the king, & the work means Everything to you for reasons you can't even necessarily explain except to say that it JUST does. The king's eldest daughter (very young adult; Never Been Outdoors; a little overly-sociable but nice enough & what do you expect from a princess, anyway) has imprinted on you like a duckling for whatever reason. You would be nice to this person, yes? You'd be patient with her while you're in town. You have Brutal Murders to be doing, but not until, like, 2 days from now, or whatever; you're sharing space with her in some capacity in the meantime & it's in your best interests to keep her happy. (You probably even enjoy doing this, if you're Jack of a Way Earlier Cycle; I'm in no way ruling that out. Sharing your music collection with an enthusiastic Baby Adult? That's fun. I think he was probably having fun. Okay, you can step out of the fun purple shoes if you want; the Humoring Me Minute has concluded; thanks.)

Also, @2000sanimeop and I think that if Jack felt that way about her Astos would have been a little More Something about how much it was gonna suck for him when she died. In Fool's Missive XXVII he uses the word "painful," but that's about it. He doesn't even bring it up in XXV, which is the one where he says he's curious about whether she'd survive being turned into a fiend (side note: Astos fucking rocks. Why did he write that down?? I love him). & Hey SPEAKING OF ASTOS,

4. I wouldn't put Jackstos on a wiki, either.

The writing in Stranger of Paradise, SERIOUSLY, WITHOUT EXAGGERATION, is some of the best I've seen in literally anything ever. It suits not just its medium but also its sort of Place in History Relative to Other Video Games & the things it chose to DO with that medium & that niche INSANELY well. It is CUSTOMIZED. It's SO INTENTIONAL. I can't get too far into this or we'll be here all day, but the essence of what I want to say here is: there are relatively few facts presented to us by this game, compared to the implications we can go about drawing from those facts & other, external sources of context.

Sarah calls Jack her first love; that's a fact. No facts are presented to us that REALLY say much one way or the other[4] about what Jack thinks of this, himself; "fucktillion memories missing" Jack says he doesn't care, but he's missing a fucktillion of his memories, and DLC2 Jack has a set of dialogue options (hi Anne the Malboro I love you Anne the Malboro) that can point either way depending on what the player chooses, which is kind of nothing, on balance. As the audience, we can (should!) draw whatever conclusion we want about it, but none of those conclusions are text.

[4] I WILL GET TO THE DATA BOOK IN ONE SECOND. HOLD ON.

And, okay, please let me level with you. Let's be on the same page. Jack & Astos had some kind of thing going on, imo, OBVIOUSLY, but I want to be CLEAR and I want to get CREDIT for the things I'M bringing to the table to help generate this conviction. I drew that conclusion & I read that reading based on subtext, context, personal history, personal preference, & sheer gay zest for life. It is also, emphatically, NOT TEXT.

Astos refers to Jack with the ol' "...friend" in Fool's Missive XXI. He calls him "my Jack" in Fool's Missive XXXI. Canonically, textually, he has some big fucking COMPLICATED fucking feelings about this man. These are facts. If you're playing this game as Some Guy, I can see how you could potentially absorb these facts & still pay them much less regard[5] than I did & continue to. My argument here is that god I wish I lived in a world where Some Guy could extend the same courtesy to me and not treat Sarah's textual affection for Jack as something that necessarily indicates Some Kind Of Reciprocal Romantic Whatever, Definitely, Obviously, Of Course.

[5] Longer Tangent: I have been informed that the Some Guys of the world are currently pretty good at Recognizing a character that behaves in a way that's Pretty Gay, but tend to stop there, possibly for the combined reasons that A. they're not very familiar with a lot of the the ways gay relationships often work (you know, soul resonance. mutual recognition. sharing a brain etc.) and B. the Object Of Affection is usually the player character and they subconsciously shy away from thinking of a Guy They're Supposed To Identify With as gay. This is practically a lead-in to an entire separate post I could make, so I'll leave it at that, lol.

The writing is too good for that kind of assumption! I'M SERIOUS!! It's mind-blowingly subtle & endlessly fascinating to hold up to the light & view from every possible angle, and "Jack & Sarah were in love" + "Jack & Astos were in love" are BOTH ANGLES. I'm personally very very interested in giving the text credit for that. I think it's impressive. I think it's really, really cool, and I think it was on purpose. Speaking of which,

5. Word of God agrees with me, btw

This is from the Q&A section on page 156 of the Confidential File. The translations below are my own (I think they're straightforward enough, but lmk if you know more than me & I'm actually being stupid in there somewhere. Alt text has the JPN, if you want to copypaste it or something). Someone asked:

Why is it that you established Garland as someone Sarah has a romantic interest in?

The answer is from Daisuke Inoue (director, one of 3; the other 2 are from Team Ninja; he's from Square Enix):

That was because, from a narrative standpoint, we wanted Sarah to be the kind of person who holds onto hope. You can imagine that she saw the "hope" to save the world in Jack, a potential Warrior of Light. Sarah is seen by her people as a symbol of a bright future, but if there were nobody to give her hope, that might destabilize her emotionally. As for whether she felt genuine love for Jack, or just mistook her feelings of admiration towards him for "first love," we'll leave that to your interpretation.

The first time I read this, I thought the question was implying the aforementioned Reciprocal Something, but on closer inspection that doesn't even seem to be true! "思い人" seems to indicate a directional relationship; as in, the question assumes that Jack is an object of affection to Sarah, but assumes nothing about what Jack thinks.

Also, the answer uses the word "初恋" (hatsukoi), which is a very established Concept as far as "first love" goes, but in that one cutscene, Sarah says "初めての恋" (hajimete no koi), which is. Different, but I couldn't tell you how, lol. It's Not The Exact Same Phrase, but I'm not sure whether it's meaningfully different in this context. If I had to guess, I'd say that IF ANYTHING it could be a way of saying "first love" without invoking the cultural CONSTRUCT of First Love (as much)? But it's whatever. The localization holds up. All sources show that Sarah had Feelings about Jack, and all sources CONSPICUOUSLY neglect to mention Jack's feelings about her.

It was on purpose. This is my license to be as annoying as I want for one second here. I am right. All the other writing in this game is notably subtle, efficient, intentional, and skilled, AND ALSO, WHEN do you ever see anyone write such a richly beautiful, mostly-subtextual relationship between two men, which can easily be read as a romantic thing, and NOT explicitly canonize a very possible romantic relationship between at least one of those men and a woman, like not even in an interview or anything. What the fuck, man.

I'm putting away the Respectable Scholar Hat now. This is so funny. The person asking this question didn't EVEN go as far as assuming Jack & Sarah had any kind of Actual Romance going on, & the answer STILL dials it back to "she might have been conflating her feelings about Jack AS A SYMBOL with actual affection, also. We'll let you decide : ) ". This game is everything ever.

[awildnoechu]

cldfiredrgn ha respondido a tu publicación: jlarinda ha respondido a tu publicación: ...

Literally all of your tags

Thanks! I really have a lot of feelings and thought about this whole topic, tbh and it’s nice to talk about it because hey, people are free to dislike characters and have their own opinions

[sukirichi]

acquainted

You had no intentions of becoming acquainted with the clan your family had cut ties with, but when Naoya Zenin himself is willing to teach you a lesson and you’re determined to show him what you’re capable of, it becomes a silly game of power and dominance.

REQUEST. naoya putting reader back to her place

WARNINGS: Naoya Zenin, rough sex, orgasm denial, face fucking, slight voyeurism, degradation, slight bondage, cowgirl riding, manhandling, spanking, hate sex

WC. 5.4k+

NOTES. Because Naoya is my favorite, his fic is the only one I’ve ever edited, LOL. Even though this is requested, this is written out of self-indulgence, purely because I love Naoya and even though he’s nasty, he’s my comfort character. And freaking FINALLY I have written more for this man. I worship this King 👑

There were so many ways this day had gone wrong. First, your shower broke. Second, the maintenance men couldn’t come until late in the afternoon, so you had to drive all the way to school looking like a half-mess. You weren’t a slob, of course, but you were beyond irritable at the thought your hair felt greasier than most.

So when an unfamiliar mop of blonde hair sat at your place, the sight of pierced ears meeting your gaze as you smiled at the young man, you had to clutch your bag tighter. No need to be harsh to anyone; you reminded yourself.

“Hi,” you greeted as politely as you could.

The young man in your seat was handsome — terribly so — feline eyes emphasized with an eyeliner, and stunning green eyes that peered up at you with utmost boredom. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint where you’d seen him before.

“I believe you’re in my seat.”

You expected he’d kindly take another seat since the hall was empty, but he only leaned back in your seat, brow raised with a slight smirk. “So?”

Your mouth fell agape, hands falling at your sides. Who was this guy? “What do you mean, so? Get the fuck out of my seat.”

“Women,” he rolled his eyes, “Always so tempered and dirty mouthed,” the words felt like stinging slap in your face, and he easily read through you when he snickered to himself, waving a hand in the air as if he was swatting a fly away. “I’m already sitting here, so go find someplace else. I came here first.”

“You little — who do you think you are?”

“Who do you think you are for speaking to me? Did I give you permission?”

His condescending voice made you lunge at him if not for your friend’s hand wrapping at your arm, shooting worried glances over the guy. His smirk deepened when your friend pulled away, the words mutter under her breath. “Come on, let’s go,” she tugged you away despite your protests, pushing your shoulders down to make you sit. Once out of earshot, she rolled her eyes. “I seriously hate that guy. Don’t you ever involve yourself with him.”

“Who’s that prick anyway? He acts so high and mighty like he’s some rich daddy’s son. Look, he’s totally claiming my seat as his!”

“That’s Naoya Zenin, and yeah, he is some rich daddy’s son,” she confirmed, shivering at the mere mention of his name. “He’s an absolutely big misogynist. Don’t be fooled by his pretty face — he’s the worst fuckboy to ever exist. That dick of his isn’t worth getting fucked over. He’s already made half the women in school cry and run after him like a horde of lovesick zombies,” your friend gagged with a shake of her head, “It’s terrifying, actually.”

“Fucking asshole,” you hissed under your breath, sending side glances at the corner of your eye.

That stupid guy was still in your seat, a bored expression on his handsome face, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks at every blink. He just had to be a sexist pig with that gorgeous face — no good men existed anymore. “Whatever. He’ll get a taste of his own medicine soon.”

“Whatever it is you’re planning, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“I’m doing this for all of us,” you announced with your spine straightened. “I’m not letting a man walk like that acting like he’s got the whole world at his feet. I’ll teach him a lesson or two.”

“You do know he can sue you if you punch him right?”

“Who said I was going to punch him?” a smirk painted your lips at the same time he felt your eyes burning holes at the side of his face, your expression even more triumphant when he tilted his head to the side, eyebrow cocked at your gaze. He must’ve assumed you’d fallen for his looks judging by the satisfied smile on his face, making you laugh because it would be fun to teach him a lesson.  “No, I have a much more interesting plan in mind.”

It turned out that Naoya wasn’t that much of a stranger.

You had his reputation to thank for — people spoke his name left and right that it was nearly impossible not to know of him. It had you wondering how you managed to live through university so long without knowing him when the name drowned you; he was a Zenin.

No wonder that name was so familiar.

The Zenin’s were a close business partner of your family, but they cut off ties with their company years ago due to them having an intolerable attitude. Clearly, it ran in the blood, and their heir manifested it so well.

Thoughts of Naoya and his stupid face were soon drowned out by expensive champagne, the golden liquid sparkling in your hands. You had to attend this dinner gala where businessmen and powerful families alike conjoined for a formal opportunity of forming connections and solidifying deals, pressuring you to be at your best behaviour lest you wanted your black card to be cut off.

You made your way through the crowd to get another one of those hors d oeuvres, opting to just sit in the corner while you watched your family plaster on big, fake smiles with even louder, faker laughter.

It was quite sad, really, that people had to do stuff like this, but who were you to complain when it was what fed you on a silver plate all the time?

For now, you just wanted to enjoy the new dress your mother had gotten you, the silk black material hugged around your curves delectably. Pearl drop earrings hung to frame the sides of your face, legs lengthened and accentuated with stiletto heels.

You felt sexy — especially when you got lingering gazes from men who were slightly older and definitely richer, though you made no move.

The last thing you wanted was to become someone’s trophy wife when you could become so much more.  Plus, only your parents had the task of befriending people and building trust with others. You were only here to help represent the name somewhat with your pretty face, not really having much of an intention to be acquainted with anyone.

You swiped another glass of fizzy alcohol from the waiter that passed by, glossy red lips pinched around the glass when a sultry voice mused at your ear, “Still can’t find a seat?”

Swirling around so fast that the contents nearly poured out the glass, you weren’t surprised to see Naoya fucking Zenin stood before you, his tall stature draped in only the finest and hand-stitched three piece suit.

He looked absolutely delectable this way, earrings glimmering under the golden chandeliers and eyes lined with kohl, the aura of elegance that perfectly concealed his less than pleasing personality excessively charming.

You were beyond appalled.

“Still can’t find a brain?” you retorted with a roll of your eyes, eyes still narrowed at Naoya’s displeased ones as you dunk your drink in one go. “What are you doing here, pig?”

“I’ll let that comment slide once — only because you look hot tonight,” his predatory gaze ran over your form, the careful pattern of him pausing at the swell of your breasts sliding to the curve of your hips heating up each inch of your skin. “And it’s Naoya for you. Naoya Zenin, the rightful heir of the Zenin Corp—”

“What’s that scent you’re wearing? Baby powder? Fitting for your cute face, actually.”

Naoya’s jaw clenched, clearly unaccustomed to people cutting off his holiness, and you had to bite down on your lip to prevent the chuckles from slipping through. “It’s Tom Ford.”

“Hmm, why am I not surprised? My horrible ex also wore the same scent. Maybe it’s a trademark for all limp losers, huh?” Naoya opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it, stepping forward to grab at the space between his tie to pull him down. His face was mere centimetres away from you, close enough that his breath ghosted over your lips, the intense anger flaring through those eyes hot enough to burn you. “You act so smug and defensive, Naoya. Trying to have a big man personality to conceal a small dick?”

“I have nothing to prove to you.”

“You don’t need to prove me anything,” you glanced down at his pants with a smirk, ignoring the heat pulsing in your veins because the sight contradicted your words. There was a noticeable bulge inside those shiny black slacks, though the last thing you wanted him to see was the way your mouth watered in anticipation. “I already know what I need to know.”

“Yeah? You and your shitty girlfriends can’t stop talking about my dick?”

You shrugged sarcastically, “You know women. We’re tireless complainers.”

Naoya’s jaw ticked upon you using his words against him, his hands coming up to caress at your neck, his nails scratching behind the thick silver chain you wore.

From afar and in the eyes of others, people would’ve thought you and Naoya were simply getting a little too heated, his lips dipped to graze your ear while his slender fingers pressed a little tighter into your air pipe. Your positions could easily be mistaken for Naoya seducing you, and you supposed he was, since your body responded differently from your verbal protests.

“You should watch what you’re saying,” he warned, voice low with warning. “I could easily dump your body into a river and no one would even notice. In fact, maybe the world might even thank me for doing them a service and ridding them of a spiteful woman like you.”

“Oh, pretty boy,” you chuckled back and stood to your tippy toes. One of your hands wrapped around his neck to forcefully tilt his neck to yours, nose pressed above his collar to inhale the intoxicating masculine scent he wore. “You’re all bark and no bite. Why don’t you show me what you’re capable of? If you’re as awful as they make you out to be, maybe I’ll shiver enough to drop my panties for you.”

You didn’t miss the way Naoya’s hands gripped at your waist to pull you close, enticing you to continue with your insults because maybe Naoya liked this a lot more than he let on. Could it be his superiority complex didn’t always like submissive women, after all?

Well, it would make sense; everyone always liked a little challenge, didn’t they?

If that was what he wanted, then you’d be generous enough to grant it to him.

“Wouldn’t you like to get a chance to put me in my place, to teach me a lesson for defiling the oh-so-mighty Naoya Zenin?” you purposefully toned your voice down to a more breathy tone, your chest swelling with pride when Naoya sucked in a sharp inhale beside your ear.

God, he sounded beautiful — and you hadn’t even fucked him yet. Now, you were eager to hear what else those disgusting lips could be capable of other than degrading you.  

Pulling away from him just to bat your lashes at him, heat pooled straight into your core when Naoya’s gaze had completely darkened, dark orbs pooled with lust and anger. Only he could make such an expression look so good.

“You don’t scare me, Zenin. You’re nothing but a small boy wearing big man pants.”

For a moment, your smile widened, believing that you’d won this time around. Naoya was still breathing hard at each brush of your stomach to his now hardening erection, but then he smirked and gently pushed you away from him. “I’m not fucking you here,” he stated calmly, not even bothering to keep his voice low. “You’re a lot dumber than I thought you’d be if you really think I’m whipping my cock out during this dreadful dinner.”

“This dreadful dinner you speak of is an opportunity for people like us to establish connections. I would’ve assumed you wanted nothing more to impress others but it seems I was wrong. If you hate this event so much, why bother coming here in the first place?”

“Just had a feeling I was going to meet a little minx,” he watched you seductively, his smirk adorned with his tongue peeking out to lick his lips — in turn wetting you in places he promised to make his by the end of the night. Curse him, you chanted in your head, curse him for being so attractive. It would’ve been easier if he was ugly. “And as always, I’m right.”

You tilted a brow, slightly impressed. “So you’ve done your background check on me. That doesn’t explain why you’re still here though. Surely a woman couldn’t be enough for a reason to make a man like you go all this way?”

“You’re right, a woman would never be a good enough reason, but I wanted to put you in your place,” his eyes flickered back up to you, now twinkling with danger and something else entirely. “Bad little girls need to be a taught to a lesson.”

“So what’re you waiting for? Go ahead and show me your ways, Zenin.”

“I will,” he nodded to himself, “I’m about to,” Naoya was nothing but confident as he strode your way until his arms was locked with yours, his breath tickling your collarbones that had unknowingly exposed itself at each heated touch. “You’re not that bad for a slut. You look like one, smell like one — I bet you also feel like one.”

A dry laugh left your lips as you fisted his shirt, mirroring his smirk to show that if a match was what he looked for, then a match he’d find indeed. Only this time, you would be worse.

“Why don’t you go ahead and find out?”

Naoya, despite being an absolutely poor excuse of a human being, was somewhat redeemable for being a man of his words. Find out he did, and he wasted no time into shoving you inside his McLaren, barely able to keep his hands off you the whole way up to his penthouse.

It was a blurry mess from there.

Moans spilled from your lips while he ripped your clothes off, not bothering to apologize that he’d just ruined one of your most prized possessions, his lust-clouded haze mumbling that he’d just buy you another one.

It was the last thing you expected to hear from him, but you couldn’t protest, not when he’d angrily snapped the buttons of his shirt away, a low growl mixing with your breathy whines as he loosened his tie.

Your eyes widened at the sight, legs rubbing together as you imagined what else he could do with that pretty tie of his.

Would he tie you to his bed, fuck you stupid and call you useless? Or perhaps, you could do it?

Naoya cut off your train of thought by pushing you back to his mattress, his hands tugging at his belt before he pulled his boxers down, his thick length slapping at his abdomen. Your mouth immediately watered at the sight. You were beyond wet from nothing but your sloppy make-out sessions, but would he fit?

Just the thought of him giving you that burning stretch made your legs spread beside his sides, the sardonic laughter ripping from Naoya’s lips absolutely disgusting.

“Fucking pathetic. You’re just like everyone else; submitting to me at the sight of my cock, but that’s not true, is it? Moment you saw me, I knew you were clenching around nothing,” he gripped at your jaw to force you to look at him. You glared up at him from his bruising hold, your cheeks squished under his rough hands. “But that’s okay; wanting me is not something you should be ashamed about. Although you should be thanking me I’m even letting you near me like this.”

“I’m so honoured. Come on, Naoya, let me feel you — let me make you feel good.”

Naoya, too lost in his ego, missed the sarcasm dripping in your voice. “So eager to be my cock sleeve, huh?” he grinned, tugging at your hair to push you deeper into his mattress.  “Get on your knees. Now suck.”

He was too harsh in his pace, determined to exert his dominance over you. You could feel every ridge of his vein as he continued fucking into your mouth, his abs rippling above you. It felt like witnessing a Greek god come apart, and you took pleasure in being his ruin, prompting you to hollow your cheeks and bob your mouth up and down on his cock harder.

Naoya’s chuckles were broken and often mixed with curses of fuck, you feel so fucking good, his nails now scratching at your scalp.

Soon, Naoya stilled inside you, his hold around your head deadly to keep you in place. Tears flowed down your face as he kept thrusting inside, making sure to hit the back of your throat before his muscles tightened. Spurts of warm cum followed after that, but instead of swallowing it like you expected he’d command you to do, Naoya whipped out his cock and came all over your face, his seed shooting all over your cheeks and lips.

You took it all obediently, just enough to give him the false pretense of submissiveness that he was so willing to force from you.

While he was occupied pumping his still rock hard cock, eyes closed and massaging your scalp almost soothingly, Naoya failed to notice your hurried movements of standing from the bed, fingers looped around his tie.

A small wail resonated from him when you shoved him down onto the bed, knees locked at either sides of his waist before you tugged at the cloth wrapped around his neck. Naoya kicked his legs behind you as you tied his wrists to the bed hard enough that Naoya winced, the tie only forming tighter at each lame grapple of his.

You looked back at how he got more beautiful laid out in front of you like that, chest heaving up and down while he struggled against the restraints, face flushed with anger — no, this wasn’t anger anymore — he was furious.

“What are you doing?! Get this off me — how dare you!”

“How dare you,” you spat back, discarding your lace bra off to wipe his cum away from your face, gagging when the bitter cum left a tang on your lips. “I just got my skin appointment last week and you came on my face like that?”

Naoya kept fighting back before he realised it was a futile attempt, leaning back down onto the pillows, though that didn’t soften his heated eyes on yours. You cooed at how adorable he submitted to you, running a finger down the sides of his jaw. “Aw, don’t look so angry, baby. I’m just starting my fun,” you purred, “You should’ve known better than to mess with me, Naoya. I’m not as nice as the others. And I’ll show you just how awful I can be.”

Naoya’s breath hitched when you shimmied out of your underwear, a dark glint in your eyes as you stretched the elastic into a fake arrow until it snapped into his face.

“You fucking bitch,” he growled, turning his face away from your panties soaked with arousal. “Once I get out of here, I will ruin you.”

“Huh, yeah, sure,” you mumbled incoherently, too lost in the pleasure as you sunk down on his cock. You were right, he was fucking thick, stretching you out better than any of your toys could. Plus, he was warm and leaking with pre-cum that he slid in easily, erotic groans leaving both your mouths once he was finally seated inside you.

Naoya was growling at you to let go of him when you laughed, lifting your hips up slowly before sliding back down on him just as slow, almost as if you made love to his cock the same passionate way you did with a lover. “You do have a wonderful cock, though. I’ve never felt this good in my life,” you leaned down to lick a stripe down to his neck, allowing him to hear the needy pants you graced with him. “You feel so good, Naoya, oh. If you weren’t such an asshole, I might even fall in love with you.”

“Go faster. This is unfair!”

Naoya tried thrusting deep into you, evidently unsatisfied at this torturous pace you set, but you only gripped at his thigh in warning, your eyes no longer sweet as you glared at him.

“Nothing’s ever fair in this world, sweetheart,” you reminded him, shivering every now and then as you bounced on his cock, his length slipping past through your walls magically. “Like how such a gorgeous face and amazing dick is paired with the most disgusting personality ever. No, it’s not fair, indeed...”

You closed your eyes with your head thrown back, placing your hips flat on his pelvic bone instead, fingers rubbing at your clit while Naoya throbbed inside you, desperate for release.

The little whines you gave were nothing but mocking. You knew that Naoya suffered through this position, but did you care? Absolutely not. With Naoya’s cock stretching you full and his tip kissing your most sensitive spots, in addition to your fingers rubbing and tweaking at your clit, this was the most pleasure you’d ever gotten from sex.

You were stimulated everywhere, your other hand reached up to tug at your hardened nipples.

Your walls clenched around him, signalling him that you were close and you let out a broken moan, falling forward to gyrate your hips around his cock to push you over the edge. It wasn’t enough to get him off since you were mostly still fondling with your clit, the sounds of your moans like torture to his ears.

“No, don’t you dare cum, I swear if you—” Your orgasm washed over you comfortingly like a warm blanket. Instead of seeing white, it was like your vision cleared, the sight of the sweat that made Naoya’s hair stick to his forehead in clumps crystal clear. You prolonged your orgasm by thrusting your hips in a sickening rhythm of thrust, pause, thrust, stop ­— and by then Naoya was losing his mind.

Naoya lost control as he snapped his hips upwards inside you hard enough that you winced in pain, pushing off his dick until he’s left humping the empty air, his body drenched with perspiration. “No, no, no, fuck you! Get back here you useless slut!”

You lay beside him, giggling in post-orgasm bliss. Just to tease him, you rolled to his side to press a kiss to his cheek, laughing harder when your lips came in contact with his flushed skin.

“You’re so adorable like this,” you cupped his face tenderly, perfectly aware that Naoya had begun to growl, his wrists almost bruised from how hard he brawled against his tie. “If I didn’t hate you so much, I would’ve let you cum inside me,” you offered with a pat to his chest, moving off the bed with wobbly legs.

“Well, whatever, that was fun. I would say we both had the most sensual sex of our lives, but that would be a joke for you, don’t you think?” you snorted as you inserted your arms to his discarded suit jacket.

Naoya stayed still on the bed, his cock still painfully hard and slick with your cum. “Don’t look so angry, Naoya. You had it coming for you. Don’t worry, though, as a thanks for letting me cum that hard — though I mostly did all the work — I’ll keep this between us so you at least get to keep whatever’s left of your dignity,” you blew a kiss his way, “Bye, sweetie. At least now I know people weren’t exaggerating when they called you a good fuck.”

Not bothering to slip your heels back on, you looped your shoes into the curls of your fingers, about to button Naoya’s jacket as you made your way to his door.

You never got halfway across the room when strong arms suddenly lifted you off the ground, your vision transitioning from his door to the pads of his feet, your body slung across his shoulder. Naoya gripped at your ass in warning when you kicked your legs, leaving him with no choice but to hug your thighs with one arm.

The next thing you knew, he slammed the balcony doors open with one hand and slammed you on the pool table. His rough hands yanked his jacket away from your body, the chilly night of the air bringing a shiver down your spine as it hit your drenched core.

Naoya had pinned your arms flat on your back in a painful angle, making you cry out just as he kneed your legs open, his free hand that wasn’t pinning you down aligning his cock against your hole. You were a moaning mess underneath him, the pain only an intoxicating addition to the pleasure he was pounding into you. Naoya then leaned to whisper your ear, the sudden movement making his cock slide deeper into you, the pleasure overwhelming.

“Oh, Naoya, fuck—”

“I am not just a good fuck,” he corrected you, “I am Naoya Zenin — and you will do well being silent and submissive while I fuck you, do you understand?” You were too lost in the feeling of him rutting deep into you that he had you seeing white this time around. When you didn’t answer, Naoya slapped your ass, your yelps echoing from the dead night. “I asked you a question.”

“No,” you bit back, “I refuse to—” you were silenced when Naoya hit your sweet spot, laughing at your state that you were too fucked out to give him a proper answer.

Naoya’s pace was merciless as he fucked deeper into you, the hand on your ass moving up to grab at your waist to keep slamming you back to his cock. He watched as your lips sucked him in so tight that he didn’t know whether you were pushing him out or refusing to let go. Turning your head to the side to gasp for air, you opened your eyes, only to be met by the sight of men crowding on the building across yours to witness your undoing by Naoya’s hands.

“I’ve barely started and you’re already so wet for me,” he mocked in your ear. As if on cue, squelching sounds accompanied your desperate moans, hands grabbing at nothing in particular. “Shall I try upping my speed?”

“N-Naoya- there are people looking.”

“Let them see,” he seethed, using one arm to lift your other leg up to the table to gain him more access into your warm, wet cavern. The sudden stretch made your muscles ache until you lay there limp; jaw clenched at the pleasure Naoya drowned you with. “Let them know how much I’m making this pussy mine. Gosh, can you hear yourself? You sound like a dirty fucking slut,” another slap landed on your ass, hard enough to leave a mark there for tomorrow. “You claim to hate me, so then why are you dripping all over me, huh? Pathetic whore. You women are nothing but cum dumps to me.”

Naoya spread your butt cheeks open, laughing at the silly way you clenched around him every time he pulled out, your puffy lips sucking him back again until Naoya buried himself to the hilt. His dick did wonders in letting out the most erotic whines and whimpers you never thought you’d be capable of, leaving you a drooling and panting mess under him.

“You little fucker, don’t even think about cumming inside me, I will literally castrate you and feed your balls to yourself.”

“Such a dirty mouth. Though that’s expected of a nasty woman like you,” he sassed, his thrusts faltering while his hand clenched your flesh tighter. That was enough to send you over the edge when Naoya slammed his hips harder and more desperately this time around, his cock twitching against your walls. “You wish I would cum inside you. But I have a better plan in mind.”

All it took was one rough hand for him to pull you before him, pushing you down into your knees again as he came inside your mouth. You could feel your cum and his dripping onto his dark marble tiles, the white pool of liquid shining.

Naoya thrusted lazily into your mouth, a sickening grin on his face while he kept you down there. His glare deepened when you tried to pull away from him. “Swallow, you slut. Or I’m fucking your face until I break your jaw.”

Furiously, you swallowed around his cock, Naoya groaning at the feeling of your walls convulsing around him. The moment you gagged from when his tip poked the back of your throat, Naoya pushed you off him until you were left choking on the ground. You gasped for air, hands clasped around your neck, sure that you were going to have a sore jaw and a fucked throat tomorrow.

You kept glaring at Naoya, but this didn’t deter him from gripping your chin down, humming to himself upon seeing that his cum was now gone in your mouth. “Hmm, so you did swallow it like a good girl. I’m glad I’ve disciplined you well.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’m King there already, baby,” Before you could retort, his arms encircled your waist until you were heaved in his arms again. You pounded against his back because you were too done, you couldn’t do another round. Naoya sighed as he threw you in the bed as if you were a ragdoll, disappearing in the bathroom for a while before coming back with a wet towel, which he rudely flicked your way. “Clean yourself up and then leave. Take the back elevators. I don’t want the staff to see a whore leaving my place.”

“You’re the one who brought me here.”

“Only because I had a duty to put you in your place,” He stared at you with his smirk now permanent in his face, admiring the bruises he left on your body.

“We’re not over yet, Zenin. I’m going to break you one way or another.”

You rolled your eyes at him, walking to his closet to wear one of his shirts. Naoya was silent the whole time as he watched you button his shirt with trembling hands, his presence hot on your heels as he followed you out the large room.

As you were about to leave, you picked up the towel you used to clean your cum with and threw it right at his face.

Naoya dodged it easily, eyeing the towel with a scoff. “Still resilient, I see,” settling down on one of his lounge chairs like it was a throne, Naoya rested his cheek on his fist as he stared you down. “But fine — I accept your challenge. A true man never backs down from a challenge, after all.”

“Oh, honey, I’m more than just a challenge,” you sneered.

Naoya’s gaze left your eyes to stare at your perky nipples that poked through his shirt, feeling his cock swell all over again. But he was a man of control and dignity — he wouldn’t do anything more with you, not when it was clear you’ve had enough for tonight.

It didn’t bother him though, he knew he’d have more opportunities to put you in your place.

“We’ll see about that. I’ll be the one to decide your worth,” he declared oh so smugly, the mere sound of his voice pushing you to slam a fist to ruin that pretty face of his, though you held your ground, far too tired to move a muscle. Naoya saw this too, and he smiled to himself, head tilted to the side as he studied the mess he’d made of you. “Tomorrow, same time same place?”

There was no telling what pushed you to agree, but the words left your lips far too confidently for you to even wonder why.

“Be ready for me, Zenin.”

“I always am.”

All the way back to the back elevators that Naoya had directed you at, you pondered on how you’d be able to tell your parents you suddenly needed a ride home when they had no idea you left the dinner gala in the first place. But most of all, how were you supposed to tell them you’d acquainted yourself with the Zenin clan all over again?

[edenmemes]

ghost of tsushima starters

❝ promise you’ll remain the good man i know. ❞   ❝ only fools have no fear of death. ❞   ❝ i am very much alive. but my patience is dying. ❞   ❝ i’ll make sure you are remembered. as a great warrior...a wise leader. ❞   ❝ the strength we need is all around us. ❞   ❝ the past cannot hurt you. ❞   ❝ this whole journey, and i never asked your name. ❞   ❝ fear drives you to be stronger. fight harder. ❞ ❝ sometimes...our only choice is to walk away from everything we know ❞ ❝ we do what we must. that is why you and i are both survivors. ❞ ❝ i can do good! i just...need practice. ❞ ❝ may your next life be more peaceful than this one. ❞ ❝ i knew it was too good to be true. ❞ ❝ i'll see what i can do. but if you’re lying to me... ❞ ❝ you’re too comfortable with that power. ❞ ❝ don’t ever try to kill me again. ❞ ❝ turn your back on a foe...and you will die with a sword stuck in it. ❞ ❝ youre not slipping away that easily. ❞ ❝ just stay closed. keep your sword sheathed. and let me do the talking. ❞ ❝ the things i saw still haunt my nightmares. ❞ ❝ i dont even know if you're real. ❞ ❝ victories don’t have to feel good. ❞   ❝ killing your own family...it’s harder than you could ever imagine. ❞   ❝ it’s safer for everyone if i just disappear. ❞   ❝ next time, leave some glory for the rest of us. ❞   ❝ peace doesn’t always come quietly. ❞   ❝ some people respond to kindness. others require a glimpse of steel. ❞ ❝ i am nothing if not honest. ❞ ❝ stop using people, and start thinking about how you can help them. ❞ ❝ you’ve had your vengeance. don’t stand in the way of mine. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to do it alone. ❞ ❝ not all words need to be spoken. ❞   ❝ there is time yet for revenge. i will savour their cries of pain when that time comes. ❞ ❝ i have learned to love the cool, damp dark. ❞ ❝ the last thing i saw was faces filled with hatred, rage... ❞ ❝ you didn’t think you'd get rid of me that easily, did you? ❞ ❝ we will celebrate when this is all over. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong with you? one moment we stand shoulder-to-shoulder, the next you’re ready to cross blades. ❞ ❝ a warrior learns from their mistakes, or they are buried by them. ❞ ❝ remember your training...and never leave my side. ❞ ❝ well...i guess this is goodbye. ❞ ❝ your visions will grow worse, driving you to madness and death. ❞ ❝ i can only pretend for so much longer. i’m not like these people and never will be. ❞ ❝ i loved you all my life, but i could never work up the courage to tell you. ❞ ❝ the proud do not last, and the mightiest of us perish like dust before the wind. ❞ ❝ you’re a vision of mercy. ❞ ❝ not bad, but only half-good. ❞ ❝ we make a good team, don’t we? ❞ ❝ an archer’s aim relies not on eyes...but on body, mind, and spirit. ❞ ❝ this is my fight. i don’t need your weapon. ❞ ❝ being right doesn’t always make things better. ❞ ❝ there is nothing easier than to prey upon the vanity of ambitious men. ❞ ❝ you weren’t looking so good. i let you rest. ❞ ❝ your intentions this time were...better than usual. ❞ ❝ what are you not telling me? ❞ ❝ trouble sticks to you like shit on rice. ❞ ❝ it’s strange being back after so many years...everywhere i look brings back memories. ❞ ❝ only a child expects perfection of their elders. ❞ ❝ when this is all over, what will you do? ❞ ❝ you are ruled by your emotion. ❞ ❝ is this how you want to be remembered? ❞ ❝ perhaps great men share all the aspects of their lessers, but more. great wisdom, but even greater cruelty. ❞ ❝ i cannot imagine the burden a leader like you must bear. ❞ ❝ our greatest enemies are the greatest teachers. ❞ ❝ death’s shadow embraces me. hand in hand we walk. ❞ ❝ breathe. you can’t fight if you hold your breath. ❞ ❝ i know you well enough by now, my friend. ❞ ❝ i can’t go back...to what i was. before this. ❞ ❝ i hope you one day forgive me for the choice i made. ❞ ❝ the wounds you dealt my spirit will never heal. ❞ ❝ why did you turn away from me? ❞ ❝ if you can keep moving forward, so can i. ❞ ❝ it’s a bad idea to sneak up on me. ❞ ❝ promise me something. don’t become like me. ❞ ❝ let me undo the damage i’ve done. ❞ ❝ ...and you want me to clean up your mess. ❞ ❝ the path ahead may take a lifetime, but i will walk it with you. always. ❞ ❝ whatever you believe i’ve become, i will always be your family. ❞ ❝ i wouldn’t be here without you. ❞ ❝ i’ll hunt you past the horizon if i must. ❞ ❝ can i count on you to do what needs to be done? ❞ ❝ that’s over now. you’re here. with me. ❞ ❝ i thought i’d lost you, i should’ve known you’d never give up. ❞ ❝ you can’t continue down this path. ❞ ❝ be careful. demons are everywhere and they fear nothing. ❞ ❝ corpses can’t answer questions. ❞ ❝ you deserve greater respect than this. ❞ ❝ it’s just like the stories my father told me. ❞ ❝ what you become tomorrow is your choice. ❞ ❝ just ask the last man who questioned my sincerity. you’ll find his head covered in flies out back. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t have lied. i still would have helped you. ❞ ❝ we came this far. we’re not turning back now. ❞ ❝ how do we survive if we don’t trust each other? ❞ ❝ without my help, the fear and pain will overwhelm you. ❞ ❝ whatever happens, we don’t retreat. ❞ ❝ the stories are true. i’ve never seen anyone fight like you. ❞ ❝ see how the enemy fear you? you are a true warrior. ❞ ❝ you want to share a drink...with me? ❞ ❝ maybe you should’ve just ran away. like you always do. ❞ ❝ good people have nothing to fear from me. ❞ ❝ your promises are just like you. worthless. ❞ ❝ as you wish, since you asked so sweetly. ❞ ❝ i know better than to argue. ❞ ❝ i hope i can find quiet places like this one, untouched by war. ❞ ❝ we grew up together, but you threw it all away. ❞ ❝ it was so chaotic. i felt you grip my wrist and then nothing. ❞ ❝ desperation can bring out the demon in the best of men. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to leave without you, but...i can’t stay. i hope you understand. ❞ ❝ a grown man, and you still can barely sit still. ❞ ❝ and i heard you had no sense of humor! ❞ ❝ knowing and doing are different. ❞ ❝ trouble follows me everywhere. ❞ ❝ indulging violence weakens the warrior...like too much food or drink. ❞ ❝ i can always tell when you want to ask me something. out with it. ❞ ❝ i am proud to fight beside you. ❞ ❝ i didn’t nurse you back to health to watch you throw your life away. ❞ ❝ all i want...all i need is to start a new life. ❞ ❝ look twice and shoot once. ❞ ❝ i think they’re afraid of you. you can be...intimidating.. ❞ ❝ you don’t even try to hear me. it’s like talking to a stone. ❞ ❝ so you try to kill me? have you lost your mind? ❞ ❝ you’ve sacrificed everything. for revenge. ❞ ❝ we can’t let anger consume us. or blind us to our friends. ❞ ❝ there is only one way this ends. ❞ ❝ i gave you everything. and you threw it away. ❞ ❝ do not question my integrity again. ❞ ❝ your father would be proud. ❞ ❝ the worst one can do is take advantage of their own people. ❞ ❝ you follow trouble. you should ask yourself why.  ❞ ❝ some of my favourite memories happened at this place. ❞ ❝ i told you this was a bad idea! ❞ ❝ keep fighting. we need people like you. ❞ ❝ are you the one who finally kills me? ❞ ❝ a warrior’s most important weapon is themself. lose control, and you risk defeat. ❞ ❝ first, get some rest. this is killing you. ❞ ❝ see that? i told you. there’s always hope. ❞ ❝ i hope the skills i gained through hardship can be of use to the people here. ❞ ❝ you have skill...but you nearly died rushing into battle. ❞ ❝ in the midst of battle, true leaders must stay rooted, stand firm. ❞ ❝ every time i get in a mess like this, i’m as scared as the time before. ❞ ❝ don’t be the next to disappoint me. ❞ ❝ save what we can, but know that everything passes away. ❞ ❝ i hope you understand, this is just a job. ❞ ❝ that’s a sad way to look at the world. ❞ ❝ seeing you like that...i’m still shaken up. ❞ ❝ sit with me a moment. ❞ ❝ doubt and indecision have destroyed armies. ❞ ❝ it’s so painful to...see you weighed down by sadness. ❞ ❝ on the slim chance some good comes of this...lead the way. ❞ ❝ you fought well, but we’re finished. ❞ ❝ the warrior’s mind is quiet but alive, like rustling bamboo. ❞ ❝ i’ve trained with a blade since i could walk. ❞ ❝ the visions...they’re still happening. ❞ ❝ in our world, being intimidating isn’t a bad thing. ❞ ❝ you have a talent. it’s time you use it, for the sake of our land. ❞ ❝ i've tried to teach you all i know...but you act more like a poet than a warrior. ❞ ❝ your path leads to madness and death. ❞ ❝ that’s twice you saved my life. ❞ ❝ these people stay because they believe in you. ❞ ❝ i didn’t choose this life. it was my only option. ❞ ❝ you came at me like i was your mortal enemy. almost broke my arm! ❞ ❝ i could use your help...in the fight ahead. ❞ ❝ you can be a little rough, but you have a good heart. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to kill you, stop! ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? afraid i’ll get more famous than you? ❞ ❝ war brings out who we truly are. ❞ ❝ take care where you place your faith. ❞ ❝ you seem lost in thought. ❞ ❝ i was getting tired of waiting for you. ❞ ❝ without my wisdom, you will lose your soul to madness. ❞ ❝ peace is an unattainable dream...but a dream worth fighting for. ❞ ❝ i’ve killed a thousand men. every death was sweet. ❞ ❝ what is the point of prayer when we are doomed? ❞ ❝ you’re like your father in more ways than you know. ❞ ❝ if you want my respect, earn it. ❞ ❝ and how many wars have you fought? ❞ ❝ you’re quite the butcher with that sword. ❞ ❝ people who sow chaos must be punished. ❞ ❝ i can’t help but wonder if you enjoy the violence. ❞ ❝ i kill only to protect our people. i think about that every time i reach for my sword. ❞ ❝ i'm sorry if my lack of skill offends. ❞ ❝ it’s the first time in days i haven’t felt like i was about to die. ❞ ❝ you fought like an animal...or a demon! ❞ ❝ there’s nothing more painful to me than a perfect bow...ineptly used. ❞ ❝ victory is won by warriors, not weapons. ❞ ❝ i couldn’t leave you to die. ❞ ❝ i made my choices. even knowing what they’ve cost me, i’d make them again. ❞ ❝ when’s the last time you slept or ate? ❞ ❝ you don’t get to give up. this land needs you. ❞ ❝ oh you pretend we are different, but we fight for the same thing. ❞ ❝ there are still places of beauty to remind us of what truly matters. ❞ ❝ true mastery begins where individual ego ends. ❞ ❝ a warrior faces danger with courage and resolve. this is how they endure. ❞ ❝ those stories...they're not entirely true. ❞ ❝ even the youngest warrior needs a full belly and a rested sword-arm. ❞ ❝ bad men are good at hiding their true natures. ❞ ❝ there is nothing left for me here. my hope is lost. ❞ ❝ i did what i had to. for you. ❞ ❝ forgive my manners. i spent all my time alone. ❞ ❝ is that any way to greet a visitor? ❞ ❝ if you continue down this path...you’ll be no better than the enemy. ❞ ❝ i am grateful for the times we share...but, i always want more. ❞ ❝ you lived your life in a castle. it made you soft. ❞ ❝ i used to know what i fought for... ❞ ❝ face them as a warrior with honour. not a monster. ❞ ❝ i don’t take lives, but i am not a coward. ❞ ❝ i wonder if i’ve crossed a line. ❞ ❝ you can’t expect everyone to understand what you’re doing, or why. ❞ ❝ your methods were brutal...impulsive...without honour. ❞ ❝ there’s plenty to fear without worrying about folktales. ❞ ❝ i hope you’ll find peace again soon. ❞ ❝ you do what you need to survive. and yet you despise others for doing the same. ❞ ❝ is that your excuse? your reason to kill? ❞ ❝ we have to keep pushing. even if it costs us our lives. ❞ ❝ cowards without honour deserve no mercy. ❞ ❝ i’ll fight beside you until the end. ❞ ❝ whatever happens, your forgiveness won’t change who i am. ❞ ❝ why should we settle for scraps when we deserve to be legends? ❞ ❝ only cowards strike from the shadows. ❞ ❝ the proud do not endure. the greatest of us fall in the end. ❞ ❝ perhaps some good will come of this. ❞   ❝ you will see nothing but death to the end of your days. ❞ ❝ legacy is more than a name. ❞ ❝ im sorry. i know what it means to lose family. ❞ ❝ one day we'll escape the endless wheel of suffering. ❞ ❝ is that a 'thank you'? ❞ ❝ i know what it means to be hunted. ❞ ❝ you personify fury and regret. ❞ ❝ that's all right. i want to hear you dig your own grave. ❞ ❝ either way, we’ve got nothing to lose. ❞ ❝ i’ve done what i can. the rest is up to you. ❞ ❝ forgive me, but you look fatigued. have you endured much hardship? ❞    ❝ i hope you find true honour in your next life. ❞ ❝ you deserve nothing less than death. ❞ ❝ this is foolish. surrender, and you can live. ❞ ❝ i too have pride in family. and i know what it’s like to live in their shadow. ❞ ❝ you were gone so long, i knew you were in trouble. ❞ ❝ so many of us here owe you our lives. ❞ ❝ what's wrong? what did they do to you? ❞   ❝ you’re lucky to be alive. ❞ ❝ i know your language. your traditions. your beliefs. which village to tame and which to burn. ❞   ❝ i cannot lose you again. ❞   ❝ i don’t seek revenge. but i will fight for peace. ❞   ❝ we will meet again soon. until then...travel safely. ❞   ❝ this is war --- not a test. ❞ ❝ we can save our home together. it doesn’t have to be like this. ❞ ❝ fear is a weapon. don’t let them use it against you. ❞

[ingo-ingoing-ingone]

Hi! Here’s a pinned masterpost of all the content I’ve made for this fandom under the cut. Also I have a small tag directory of things to black/whitelist as you see fit.

Also a personal post about my blog

#SUBMAS ANGST is for anything involving sad, potentially upsetting things. Even if it’s funny, or a shitpost. I use this liberally because I want my blog to be for any fan to enjoy!!

#SUBMAS POSITIVITY will be used for any post involving non-angsty content of the boys. Certain things like “Ingo takes care of Emmet with a cold” will still go in here, just no actual angst

#REUNION will be used to tag just that: post-PLA reunion content! Now this one is pretty positive but! Some people may want to block the tag due to the fact that it’s all noncanon and that makes them sad. Or whitelist it. Either way! Reunions will be tagged!

#PLA ERA will be for any and all content during the separation. Either Ingo or Emmet or anyone else. Ingo in Hisui content will all get this tag!

#MINORS STAY BEHIND THE YELLOW LINE is for suggestive content. Once on a very blue moon I may reblog something suggestive, but it has to be funny enough for me to do so. Wanna keep this for all ages! (I am an adult and do swear though, just a heads up.)

Also, ***no blankshippers or anyone like that***. I will block on sight, I swear. This keeps happening. GO AWAY.

Anyways! My content is under the cut :)

Fanfictions: Since I ran out of links for this post, find all my fics HERE on my AO3! Below are quick descriptions of them all

Closing Doors - Emmet angst St. Elmo’s Fire - reunion fic Remember Who You Are - Ingo angst w/ hopeful ending Negative Space - Emmet angst The Nimbasa Trio Walks Into a Bar... - silly fic about drinking with friends Declaration of Intent - Gift fic about Ingo and a friend’s OC Positive Space - post-reunion hurt/comfort Storm Song - collab fic of Ingo in Hisui and Volo The Good In Me - Pre-PLA angst, heed the tags; what if Plasma attacked the subway Two-Headed - Gift fic of a submas fusion AU. Contains angst. I Can Feel the Darkness - Tragic alt end of The Good In Me. Mortal Singularity - Submas fusion AU hurt/comfort Trying Again - Gift fic about Ingo and a friend’s OC doing their best Ingo-syncracies - Since Ingo’s from the future, he has weird habits Subway Meme-sters - Ingo vs. Emmet meme competition! Do Not Stand at My Grave and Cry - Ingo is laid to rest He Trusts You - Spinoff of I Can Feel the Darkness It’s a Wonderful Life - the classic Christmas movie but make it submas The Trial - Ingo crashes his own murder trial Fear Not the Descent - Emmet gets into caving while Ingo is missing Remembered - Ingo remembers while still in Hisui Always By Your Side - submas conjoined AU longfic *disclaimer* Spare Parts - Ei deals with insecurity while back in Unova I Am Not There, I Did Not Die - Ingo and Emmet, post-reunion, contemplate time travel and graves Rise - Emmet runs to his brother Beyond All Reach - Ingo returns home to things not as he left them. Ghetsis Wins AU Keep Us Together As the Lights Go Dark - ABYS Ghostmmet spinoff Outliers Together - college submas; Ingo worries about them sticking together and Emmet reassures him. Derivatives - Emmet fears change, especially after the Hisui years, but now he has Ingo to help. A Tale as Old as Rime - the Grey family goes to pacify Kyurem

No Turning Back - Destination Unown zine crossover fic with Demon Slayer You're Still You, After All - Emmet and Ingo deal with a bad day post-Hisui Home Station - Jackie X Furze cute oneshot What Can You See On the Horizon? - Ingo comes out of a portal terribly injured I'll Sleep When I've Fainted - Akari fights Arceus in the Eternal Battle Reverie; for the In Pursuit of Victory zine A Lost Light Looking to Be Seen - Ghost Emmet and Ingo learn ghost lore

Fanart:

True Story ▲ Joltiks Georg ▽ Violence! ▲ Two of Them ▽Drawpile #1 ▲ Who’s Driving? ▽ Hair Headcanons ▲ Endling ▽ Train Nap ▲ Forget-Me-Not ▽ Where Do We Go? ▲ Brother’s Day ▽ Post-PLA Ingo ▲ InGhost ▽ Shaming Mankind ▲ Sexyman Shenanigans ▽ Masking ▲ 1: Ghost ▽ 3: Robot ▲ Ingo Doodle ▽ Beach Day ▲ Sleepy AU Twins ▲ ABYS References ▽ ABYS Kids ▲ Apartment Layout ▽ He Won! ▲ 1: Pokemon ▽ 2: Family ▲ 3: Alt Outfit ▽ 4: Memories ▲ 5: Hobby ▽ 6: Emotions ▲ 7: Trains/Subway ▽ 8: Festival ▲ 9: Storm ▽ 10: Monster/Fusion ▲ 11: Visiting Another Region ▽ 12: At Work/the Office ▲ 13: Favorite Ship ▽ 14: Music ▲ 15: Summer ▽ 16: Memes ▲ 17: Silly ▽ 18: Food and Drink ▲ 19: AU/Crossover ▲ 20: Bug ▽ 21: Loss ▲ 23: Dreams ▽ 24: All Smiles ▲ 25: Emmet and Your OC ▽ 26: Home ▲ 27: Fairytale ▽ 28: A Day Off ▲ 29: Flowers ▽ 30: Party ▲ 31: Free Space Reunion Hug ▽ Con Doodles ▲ Sneasler Sticker

Christmas Sweater(s) ▽ 1: Bug Hunt ▲ 2: White ▽ 3: Battle ▲ 4: Sound ▽ 5: Forest ▲ 6: Cook ▽ 7: Voice ▲ 8: Cozy ▽ 9: Accessories ▲ 10: New Pokemon ▽ 11: Photo ▲ 12: Illusion ▽ 13: Stars ▲ 14: Game Night ▽ 15: Coffee Break ▲ 16: Hat ▽ 17: AU ▲ 18: Dance ▽ 19: Rose ▲ 20: First Day of Summer ▽ 21: Road Trip ▲ 22: Favorite Food ▽ 23: Fishing ▲ 24: Books ▽ 25: Rainbow ▲ 26: Comfort ▽ 27: Routine ▲ 28: Reunion ▽ 29: Smile

Other:

Submas Playlist - Youtube, contains angst

Submas Song Sunday:

Still Feel ▲ Always Gold ▽ I Bet My Life ▲ I Lived ▽ Fresh Static Snow ▲ When Can I See You Again? ▽ Get Me Away From Here, I’m Dying ▲ Never Be Alone ▽ Home

[oreoambitions]

I just want to crosspost this from the Yosemite National Park facebook page, because I think it’s a really important message for anyone who spends time in wild places. Apologies if it has already been crossposted.

Speeding Kills Bear We get this call a lot. Too much, to be honest. “Bear hit by vehicle, dead on the side of the road.” Sadly, it’s become routine. I log the coordinates into my phone, gather the equipment I may need, and head to the location. This call came in cold; it sounds like the collision happened sometime around noon and it’s 4 pm now. The location is an hour’s drive away, so by the time I get there it’s well after 5 pm. I pull off on the shoulder, lug a large backpack of equipment over my back, and head off down the road. My job here is easy, really: find the bear, move its body far away from the road to prevent any other animals from getting hit while scavenging on it, fill out a report, and collect samples and measurements for research. Then I’m off on my way again with another number to add to the total of bears hit by vehicles this year—data we hope will help prevent future collisions. Pretty callous. However, the reality behind each of these numbers is not. Per the coordinates I was given, I’m still a few hundred yards off, so I continue down the road scanning it for blood as cars whiz by. I try to remember how many times I’ve done this now and, truthfully, I don’t know. This is not what any of us signs up for, but it’s a part of the job nonetheless. Then something catches my eye. It’s small and artificial, and laying in the middle of the road. As I walk closer, I see that it’s a broken shapeless car part, likely from an undercarriage. More cars whiz past. I turn my gaze from the car part down the embankment on the side of the road and there it is.   A cub. Its tiny light brown body laying just feet from me and the road, nearly invisible to every passerby. It’s a new cub—couldn’t be much more than six months old, now balled up and lifeless under a small pine tree. For a moment I lose track of time as I stand there staring at its tiny body, but then the sound of more cars whizzing by reminds me of my place and my role. I let out a deep sigh and continue on with my task.   I pick up the cub—it couldn’t be much more than 25 pounds—and begin carrying it off into the woods. I have no certain destination; I’m just walking until I can no longer hear the hiss of the road behind me. I see a grassy spot surrounded by a semi-ring of down logs and gravitate towards it. The least I can do is find it a nice place to be laid. I lay it down in the grass protected by one of the nearby logs and sit back on the log opposite of it, slightly relieved that it looks far more in place now than when I found it earlier. I take another moment and then continue with my work. I slide off my backpack, remove a binder, and start the assessment. It’s a female. This immediately triggers thoughts of the life this bear may have lived—perhaps she would have had cubs of her own—but before I finish that thought I hear a stick break and look up. Just beyond the ring, there’s a familiar figure intently staring back at me. It’s another bear. Surprised, I stand up quickly and the bear runs off into the brush but stops not far off and looks back at me. Acting on instinct, I pick up a stick and smash it over a tree to scare the bear further away. I stand there quietly, listening as I hear the bear’s footsteps tapper away.   A few silent minutes pass, and I settle back into my task. Timely coincidence, I think at first. It could be a bear coming to scavenge or this could be a common crossing area for whatever reason—we did have another bear hit and killed not far from here last week. But then I hear it, and it changes my mind completely. From behind me there’s a deep toned but soft sounding grunt. I immediately know what it is. It’s a vocalization, the kind sows (female bears) make to call to their cubs. I turn and look in its direction and there she is, the same bear from before intently staring back at me. It’s no coincidence. I can feel the callousness drain from my body. This bear is the mom, and she never left her cub. My heart sinks. It’s been nearly six hours and she still hasn’t given up on her cub. I can just imagine how many times she darted back and forth on that road in attempts to wake it. It's extremely lucky that she wasn't hit as well. The calls to the cub continue, sounding more pained each time. I glance back finding myself hoping it would respond to her call too, but of course, nothing. Now here I am, standing between a grieving mother and her child. I feel like a monster. I get up, quickly pack my bag, and get out of there. It is time to go even though my task is not done. Quickly, I set up a remote camera. Why? Every year we report the number of bears that get hit by vehicles, but numbers don’t always paint a picture. I want people to see what I saw: the sad reality behind each of these numbers.   So please, remember this. Remember that when traveling through Yosemite, we are all just visitors in the home of countless animals and it is up to us to follow the rules that  protect them. Go the speed limit, drive alertly, and look out for wildlife. Protecting Yosemite’s black bears is something we can all do. Learn more at http://keepbearswild.org/vehicle-bear-collisions/.

[brad-bakshi-loves-bugs]

i uploaded this moodboard to my main/moodboard account, but im trying to keep an Aesthetic on that account so i couldnt explain my choices there, so im reblogging it here to elaborate!

so first off, brad is definitely a shark. no doubt about it. that’s his whole schtick, you know? but sharks are incredibly diverse, and brad isn’t some huge great white shark hunting for its next kill no matter the size. no, brad is an angelshark, an ambush predator. he lies in wait until something catches his eye, and then he strikes. angelsharks also aren’t known for aggression, either. directly from their wikipedia page: “The angelshark is generally not aggressive towards humans, though it can deliver a severe bite if disturbed. When approached underwater, the angelshark usually remains still or swims away,” which i’d say is a pretty apt description of brad. such as the way his first instinct was to hide and wait for zack to leave in breaking brad, but also the way he has a tendency to lash out if he feels metaphorically cornered. 

next up, the color palette. i’ve always associated brad with the color blue. it’s the color of sadness, but it’s also the color of confidence. it’s the color of the sea, the sky, the jeans poppy so often wears. it’s everywhere, it’s inescapable, but it isn’t overbearing. it’s comforting, in the way a grandfather clock that’s been passed down from generation to generation is comforting. there’s a consistency and dependability to it that one has to admire, and even if brad sometimes acts out of spite, no one can say he isn’t consistent and dependable when it comes to his job. he gives every job he has 110%, and that’s the embodiment of the color blue.

and now for the quotes. i’m not sure if “hard like a rock, cold like a stone” is an intentional reference to the song solitaire by marina, but regardless the song is incredibly fitting for brad. and even if it isn’t, the quote itself is pretty much the embodiment of him as a person. he has damn near-impenetrable barriers around his heart and mind, and he’s quick to brush anyone off that tries to get closer to him. “i will break my own heart” is a nod to my fic we are fleeting, we are feeling, because brad consistently makes decisions that he knows will hurt him because that’s what he expects of others, particularly david. he makes himself miserable over and over again, because he doesn’t want to deal with the grief of anyone else making him miserable instead. he’d rather break his own heart before anyone else can break it for him (again). solivagant is the perfect word to describe brad, because even if he isn’t physically alone at work, he’s still closed off and metaphorically/emotionally alone. and, well, a word specifically for someone who wanders alone is a pretty good way to summarize him. “all they do is watch me drown” is a direct reference to the breaking brad episode, where he was frazzled and losing his mind the entire episode and no one reached out to him nor tried to help. zack was actively making brad miserable, and no one said a thing. 

and finally, for the pictures. brad is the embodiment of an overcast sky, always looming overhead and threatening to open up into rain with no clear sky in sight. hence why all of the pictures have some form of cloudy sky involved in them. the lightning and the ocean pictures both represent his exterior - rough, dangerous, and not something you ever want to fuck with. but the two road pictures, those are his internal feelings. it’s the sense of being the only person on earth when you’re driving around at 3 a.m. in the rain. it’s the feeling of being able to die without a single person around to notice or care. it’s the peace of feeling truly free, like you could drive forever and no one could stop you. but you know that for every second you take advantage of that freedom, it’s another second you could crash and die, because life is so much more dangerous when there’s no one around to save your life. 

and that’s brad bakshi.

Hey! I have a request for a moodboard :)) can you make a sad brad bakshi one that’d be great (no pressure)

sorry it took so long!

brad bakshi // angelshark