#but believe it or not this is my first time actually writing them

[dimmadoome]

To all my American friends,

What should you do if you find yourself in a rut thinking, how do I fix this?

You read.

Pick up a copy of 'The US Constitution and Other Writings' first and read through them. Make sure you know our bill of rights backwards, forwards and sideways. Make sure you understand how our system works. When new bills are proposed, read them. Read every single one of Trumps new executive orders. You have to know what they want to do so you can put together the pieces of the puzzle as to what is going to actually happen to you. The reason yall can get fear mongered so easily is because you don't know what they can and can not do to you. It seems like such a small thing to do. You might think you are a fighter, not an intellectual. You might believe that your talents are better suited somewhere else.

They aren't.

You can not take on the largest military in the world. Not head on and not even banded together. Even with every single gun toting redneck at your back, you can not and will not win.

What you do to fix the situation we are in is you learn how they are taking things from you and you work to combat that. Get out and vote. As proven by your unwillingness to vote in the last election, Voting does matter. It really, really does. Anyone who tells you any different is a russian spy and a maga shill. Your vote matters. Emd of story.

Our government isnt air tight, but it is so tied up in beurocracy that everything these fucks are planning to do WILL NOT HAPPEN QUICKLY. It will take them years to implement anything. Especially constitutional changes. If we can swing the house and senate blue the next two years, they will be blocked from doing the worst of the damage entirely. Remember the first Trump presidency? How we combated his bilullshit then? Our representatives and Congress people were somewhat democratic. Maybe, if yall actually tried, you could do it again.

I know, I know, the dems are shit, the dems are definitely in the oligarchs pocket. But they are to goddamned lazy and ineffectual to actually pull the trigger on fascism. And that is what you need. You need these people to be a place holder until you go out there, boots on the fucking ground, and get involved in your local politics. You get your people elected, then you keep moving them up until they become your representatives and congresspeople. YOU do the work.

A good place to start on that. Get to know the disabled folk in your community. They are forgotten but they ARENT stupid and they certainlyare worth the time and effort to bring to your side. They are the ones that need to have their voices heard. Imani, or Crutches and Spice as she is known, has already said this. That the right have been out there, talking to disabled folk. Making them feel seen and heard because the dems arent fucking doing it. And its working.

You guys know that we have to wrestle the government away from these fucks to actually win back our rights, right? You do realize that a fucking revolution is STILL not going to happen, right?

As a foray into my personal thoughts to end this one out. I think we need to abolish the Electoral college. We need to put term limits on supreme court justices, we need to make sure that We The People and not the presiden gets to elect them if they are making laws and we need to get rid of lobbying all together. If we can get just those four things gone within the next ten years, we might be able to swing our shit back around and have a good governmental basis to make the changes we need.

If yall are gonna be waffling around, asking for solutions. There. There are your solutions. I've given you solutions. Fucking take em.

TLDR: your first order of business is to stop expecting footnotes and start reading everything ya lazy fucks.

To my Asian, European, African, and Canadian friends...do y'all wanna know how the United States found itself under a fascist, Hitler-loving dictator named Donald Trump?

In another post, I started my timeline in 1980. The year I was born. But, it was also a turning point in US politics.

First, let me share my credentials.

- Bachelors of Arts - History

- Juris Doctor - Public Interest Law (Critical Race Theory)

- Masters of Philosophy (research degree) - Sociology (Race, Ethnicity, Conflict)

Just recently, we buried President Jimmy Carter, who was the president, when I was born. Jimmy was from Georgia, like my grandmother, and he came from a Southern Baptist background. Southern Baptists are known for being very conservative Christians who did not support abortion.

Jimmy, despite that background, actually supported LGBTQ rights by lifting a federal ban. He supported Roe v. Wade which protected access to abortion. And, he established the federal Department of Education.

However, Jimmy had an antagonistic relationship with Congress, and that alienated several Democrats, including Ted Kennedy, who was the brother of John F. Kennedy, a president who was assassinated.

The Kennedy family has an established name brand due to JFK and Robert F Kennedy (another brother and JFK's attorney general who was also assassinated). Ted was the younger, drunken brother who caused the accidental death of a college friend.

In 1980, Ted challenged Jimmy for the presidency even though they were both Democrats. Jimmy has the incumbent shouldn't have faced a challenge from his own party, but he had just been that bad.

So, this internal strife weakened the Democratic Party entering the 1980 election. In that same year, Jimmy boycotted the 1980 Olympics in Russia due to Russia's invasion of Afghanistan. Furthermore, there was a recession.

The Republican Party nominee was a former Hollywood actor turned politician named Ronald Reagan. Ronald was the governor of California and was trailing Jimmy in the polls until a presidential debate in which Ronald used his acting skills to make Jimmy seem incompetent.

Ronald believed in "trickle down economics." He believed that if the wealthiest people were taxed less, then they would spend more, thus boosting the economy and allowing prosperity to "trickle down" to the working & Middle class.

He also believed in increased military spending as this was the height of the Cold War with Russia. My own parents voted for Reagan because my dad was in the military.

Instead of trickling down, the wealthy just grew wealthier. Republicans continued to lower taxes for these individuals and businesses, so the money never trickled down. Social services were underfunded & unemployment increased. Reagan's response was to blame Black "welfare mothers" for abusing the system.

Republicans latch onto this. They implement work requirements for government assistance and make it harder for folks to pull out of poverty. As a result, a wealth gap separated white folk from the rest. White folk felt their hard earned money was supporting lazy white & Black folk, so they continued to constrict welfare programs.

[Section added] During Reagan's term, an unknown illness is killing young, gay Black & Latino men. It's AIDs. Reagan deemed it a gay disease that only affects gay people, so no funding is allocated to study this disease. It's viewed as retribution for their homosexua lifestyle. However, overtime, they learn about HIV once non-gay men were infected. Children die from the disease because blood is not tested for it, so some are born from it through their mothers while others were given transfusions.

Under Reagan, the Fairness Doctrine ends. Under this doctrine, news agencies had to report both sides of an issue. Because of this, television stations can now present one side. Fox News opens as a conservative network.

Ronald is well-loved by white folk. He gets elected to two terms. By the end of his term, the economy has recovered, and white folk are prospering. Then, his VP, George H.W. Bush, is elected.

Under George I, the Cold War ends, but we have the Gulf War in Kuwait. He signs trade agreements that result in several American companies, namely the auto industry, to shutter their doors and build factories overseas. This is due to a change in tariffs!

Millions of Americans lose their jobs as factories close. Detroit, as the leading auto manufacturer city, is devastated. Back in the 90s, Detroit was the 4th largest US city after Chicago. These factory closures hit the Midwest, especially hard.

This makes Bush unpopular. He is challenged by a young, charismatic Democrat named Bill Clinton.

Bill was a southerner like Jimmy, but Bill was a very well-known ladies' man. Bill appeals to Black Americans, though, and that allows him to defeat George.

Bill continues expanding trade agreements. He's a fiscal conservative despite being a Democrat, and under Bill, military spending is reduced.

[Section added] The rise of AIDs leads to further hate directed at the LGBTQ. During the 90s, several queer people are murdered. One such kid was Matthew Shepard. A college kid in Wyoming, he is beaten by a gang of white men. His family was terrorized so much, that they couldn't bury him because of fears his grave would be desecrated.

[A white woman Bishop in DC invites Shepard's parents to bury him in their graveyard. That Bishop is Marian Edgar Budde, the same Bishop who gave Trump his inaugural sermon this past week. She pleaded for Trump to have mercy on the queer community because she was the Bishop who buried Shepard!]

Bill is a popular president. The economy is booming, but he's still a lady's man, and he gets in trouble with a college intern.

This scandal adversely impacts the last few years in office so much so that his VP, Al Gore, loses the presidency to George W. Bush.

George Bush won the Electoral College while Al Gore won the popular vote. There was such a tiny margin that there were numerous recounts because of faulty ballots (hanging chads). Eventually, the Supreme Court intervenes and tells them to stop the count and certify George as president.

George II is the son of George I.

George II is a popular Texan with swagger. He wants to build up the military once again.

Clinton left a surplus of money, so what did George II do? He implemented tax cuts for the wealthy. That damned "trickle down economics" again. The wealthy get wealthier, increasing the wealth gap between white folks and everybody else.

They cut taxes while cutting social services. One of his biggest "achievements" was a restructuring of our educational system called "No Child Left Behind."

NCLB emphasizes test scores. School administrations are penalized if they don't meet these standards. They lost funding, so electives such as home economics, art, Music, etc are trimmed to make room for these test standards. By this time, my dad has retired from the military and is a school principal, and I remember the stress of trying to meet these standards.

These standards emphasize STEM at the expense of liberal arts. This is happening just as the internet becomes available to all.

Amazon opens as an online used book store. Facebook is started as a college message board. There's a tech boom, so everyone is being pushed into tech fields. Liberal arts education was devalued.

During his term, 9-11 happens. We declare war on Afghanistan. Islamophobia spikes. Fox News helps drive this narrative. Christianity is now being pushed into schools, whereas schools were previously secular.

[Section added] In 2004, the assault rifle ban was lifted. Now we are seeing a dramatic spike in school shootings. The Far Right embraces the expansion of the 2nd Amendment.

Then, we go to war in Iraq.

We aren't quite sure why we're at war with Iraq. We overthrow Suddam Hussein (from the Gulf War). George declares victory, then terminates the Iraqi Army.

This triggers an insurrection. Massive casualties are coming out of Iraq. The war in Afghanistan is overshadowed.

George serves two terms, but his VP is so unpopular that he doesn't run for president. Instead, the Republican nominee is John McCain.

Two Democrats fight for the nomination. Hillary Clinton, the wife of Bill, and Barack Obama.

Barack was a young, biracial Senator from Illinois. I attended law school in Illinois, and one of my classmates had been his legislative aide. I met Barack twice while a student. The first time, he had come to campus to propose a college-savings account. After his press conference, I latched onto his arm and refused to let go until he heard me, and I explained that his proposal was unrealistic because it assumed that a single mother would have the resources to save for an education when it was more likely her money would go towards groceries & rent or other immediate needs. (Fast forward two-three years, and the dude is repeating my line during the State of the Union! I had changed his mind!)

Barack beats Hillary for the nomination. He defeats McCain and is sworn in as the 1st black (not Black) president.

Obama is popular and well-loved by most Americans. Under his tenure, gay marriage is legalized.

Fox News triples down on their hatred.

Their network booms. They push Islamophobia 24/7. Highlight the fact that Obama's father was Muslim and that his middle name was Hussein.

Older Americans are watching program after program of this negativity. A movement starts called the Tea Party movement, which positions itself as a fiscally conservative movement. A bankrupt slumlord with a reality TV show gains popularity with these folks.

I wrote my master's dissertation on the Tea Party movement. It's called "Jesus and the White Man."

Donald Trump

Donald latches onto the Islamaphobia. He calls Barack by his middle name and questions his birth certificate. Donald grows popular with older Americans.

At the end of Obama's term, the son of VP Biden dies. This devastated Biden. He had lost his infant daughter & first wife in a car accident. He decides not to run for president.

Obama supports Hillary.

It is now Hillary v. Trump.

Trump pushes misogyny and Islamaphobia. Hillary is Bill's wife and a woman. She is the most qualified presidential candidate to ever run (at that time).

During Obama's last year in office, Justice Antonin Scalia* dies. Obama has the privilege to nominate that next Justice, but Mitch McConnell stalls through the election.

But older white Americans were barely okay with a black president. They were not about to let a woman serve as President. At the same time, an organization called Cambridge Analytica began to fine-tune an ultra conservative agenda.

With the help of Russian intelligence, they use Facebook ads to try to persuade voters to support Trump. They succeeded with white folk, but they did not succeed with the Black vote.

Russians used African bot farms in order to try to persuade Black Americans to support Trump. We rejected him at 90%.

Donald wins the Electoral College but not the popular vote.

Donald is a corrupt and ineffectual president. He tried to bribe foreign leaders and shared US intelligence with Russia.

However, as a populist, he latches onto the Christian Right. He nominates 3 Supreme Court Justices who lie during their confirmation hearings. These Justices will ultimately vote to overturn Roe v. Wade.

The Christian Right love this. But then COVID hits and the incompetence of Donald leads to millions of deaths. These Christian folk refuse to get vaccinated or wear masks.

Donald is an unpopular president and ranks as the worst president of all time.

Biden challenges him and wins.

Donald refuses to accept that he lost, so he organized an attempted coup. January 6th.

He's impeached. Twice.

McConnell refuses to take the step to have him permanently barred from office.

Biden takes office when COVID is still rampant. The Christian Right continue to push their agenda, seeking to remove protections for the LGBTQI.

Right wing media generates a lot of money. Podcasters jump on the bandwagon. Red pill content spills into the mainstream.

Kids who were isolated during COVID are now at home watching Joe Rogan & Theo Von. They spend hours upon hours on TikTok.

But unbeknownst to these kids is the history of Russian interference.

Schools emphasize STEM. They don't emphasize liberal arts or social sciences such as history or literature. The literacy rate plummeted to an all-time low. The average white American's reading level is at the 4th grade. They aren't able to engage in critical thinking.

They don't know the history of the Spanish Influenza. They don't know the history of a trade war that triggered the Great Depression. They don't know that our government has imprisoned citizens in internment camps. They don't know Hitler's rise to power.

In fact, Fox News frequently features individuals who deny the Holocaust.

Russia move their troll farms from Facebook to TikTok, where the algorithm serves as an echo chamber. Uneducated, illiterate folks gobble up 30-second videos but can't be arsed to watch anything over 5 minutes so complex issues are stripped down to sound bites.

The algorithm pushed right-wing fascist talking points. They rehabbed Donald while shifting Gen Z to the far right. They do not know how to verify information for themselves, so they gobble up misinformation and disinformation.

If a TikTok creator has millions of followers with thousands of views and likes, these kids assume that that info is factual. They do not vet shit for themselves.

Russia pushed anti-American propaganda that posed as pro-American talking points. Pushed isolationism. Pushed anti-democratic rhetoric. In fact, one of their greatest accomplishments is convincing Gen Z and uneducated, white Millennials into thinking we aren't a democracy.

We are a fucking Democratic Republic. Our constitution begins with: "We the people".

So, because of TikTok, Trump won.

That's why Biden was pushing for it to be banned before the election. The algorithm was being corrupted. But folks couldn't part from their addiction.

Folks who had been anti-Trump just 5 years ago are suddenly Trump supporters. They were brainwashed.

So, how did we get here?

We got here because most Americans are fucking STUPID.

[clitorphosis]

DOLL PARTS

Death Island Leon S. Kennedy x reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, KIDNAPPING, DUB CON SEX, SMUT, female reader, age gap, abusive relationship, guilt tripping, Stockholm syndrome, dumbification ig, rough sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, choking, creampie, finger sucking, bruises, implied physical violence, internal conflict, teasing, guilt, implied obsessive behavior(Leon) i think, dirty talk, pet names, degradation.

Summary: There is a deep desire to hold onto his past, on the part he is close to lose after every birthday date. And you are perfect for this. For him, to kidnap you is to save that part. Cause life goes on and without him, but yours can’t go on without him now. Of course you don't understand.

notes: this is a mess I fear, but I had a blast writing this tho so idc LOL!!! Also thanks @writingwisterias for letting me bother you with my rambling and my indecisiveness with kidnapper leon（╹◡╹）I don’t condone anything here in real life. :3 uhm, reblogs, asks or comments and any kind of feedback are really appreciated!

tags: @melanchol1cs

Clocks are ticking, not only in real time but in his mind - a disturbing reminder of how at his age Leon wasn’t even able to settle down. Tick - tock. Of course, men can always find a young woman, and two or three times of unprotected sex would be enough to impregnate one. Still, Leon doesn’t believe that applies to him - alcohol is not only a boner killer but also of fertility. Neither does he crave babies, he can be considered a dad to Sherry, also they would only show how time flies. She is enough of a reminder, no need for more.

He found you on the dating app - Sherry suggested he try, as a joke, probably not expecting him to follow the advice.

For him, you looked like a doll. Almost a godsend. Pretty, young, and easy to manhandle. Almost drooled at the prospect of having your legs wrapped around his waist. He should feel guilty or disgusted at the idea to fuck you… at the images of the material of your panties clinging to your hips, wrinkling up with every movement before his fingers would curl under it to tug them down. Right? No-no, he is only 38 years old - at his age men are already bald, Leon is having an easy time here. He has a chance, always had.

While he was unsure what to do, was a simple ‘hello, how are you’ enough for you? Or would it be too simple? Or repulsive? Why is he even worried about that, you probably matched him on accident.

You texted him first, something he didn’t expect from a young woman - even women of his age don’t text him first, they are dry and uninterested. Like sex with them.

“hiii ^^” This forces a smile out of him. Again, three dots appear. “You didn’t swipe me as a mistake, right?:3”

He hesitates, his thumb floats on the digital keyboard for a moment. No, it wasn’t a mistake, still, he needs to gratify his ego. “If it was, would it get you sad?”

“yep, actually, very big big sad!”

That was it. Easy and quick to get closer to you. He expected more obstacles, maybe times changed indeed or you are into older guys. All he needed to do was to open his wallet, be nice enough, and show how a ‘real man’ should treat a woman.

Leon knows a lot about you. He knows too much information - where you live, your college, and where you work. Not in a creep-like way, no-no. You were the one asking him to drive you there. Maybe your youth is the only problem to blame on - you were a chatting box endlessly and easily sharing anything with him, maybe things you should not have to. Somewhat, this only attached him to you.

There are always some subtle hints and hidden alarms, no one usually gives a shit about. Also, understandable, to ask anyone who knows him - hard to find someone with a bad opinion of Leon.

“He is okay”

“A hero. Not everyone is capable of saving the president’s daughter” or a simple shrug.

Outside his work, Leon is… just a guy most of the time. Yes, of course, not the luckiest one with the ladies, but it is unlikely someone would describe him as the type to kidnap a girl. No one understands how middle age crisis is going to be hard to handle, he is pushing 40, surely enough it is already waiting for him at the edge of the doorstep - and Leon had enough of bullshit in his life, a pretty and young woman is the panacea for this. The godsend pill to erase his problems.

And finally.

Finally, the tremendous loneliness will disappear, leaving it behind him like a bad dream. The feeling that everybody in the world is doing something without Leon. He can’t stand this ever-consuming loneliness to spread anymore, today IS the day.

He can let himself be selfish just once. Right?

To reach his goal, there is a small step though, a sacrifice to make. That’s why he set a date, in a good and expensive restaurant too.

And today is the day. This shouldn’t be forgotten. The biggest day. The most important one. No, doesn’t do the justice. The absolutely, positively biggest day, may be the right choice of words for Leon.

On the spot already, waiting for you. This time he isn’t late. That bad habit since 1998, but for once he didn’t struggle with his punctuality - too petulant about what will happen, checking clocks every second. Almost like a goddamn teenager, shifting the weight from one foot to the other on the spot. Nothing can go wrong, he tries to calm himself, there are so many ways to cover your disappearance. Perks of the job.

He didn’t notice how you arrived here too until your perfume brought him to senses. Your face is soft, your eyelashes flutter and you are so untainted. Your younger frame reminds him of himself your age. 21 years old, 1998. When he was at your age he had already witnessed horrors, you don’t realize they still exist. Leon shakes his head, that memory never brings anything good, but today his mood is not ruined and the memory has only strengthened the urge to keep you close.

Leon needs you, untouched by horrors and he knows much better how life can be terrifying.

“You ready?” He flashes a smile, his mood is more upturned than it has ever been - you can’t help yourself, a grin spread across your face too. It is infectious.

“Mmm, I am” you nod, curling your hand around his elbow, to keep yourself closer to him. And he is ready too, god, he has never been so fucking ready in his life.

“Not late this time,” His heart clenches at your words, and he looks into your eyes with a cocked eyebrow - awaiting whatever you came up with. “not like you at all, should I expect a surprise?”

“Maybe, maybe not” He brushes off with a shrug, a smile is still on his lips as you get closer to the car, but he can feel your excitement.

“A ring maybe?” You giggle. He opens the car door for you to get in, you don’t want to let go of his arm.

“A ring? Already?” He says and shakes his head. No, not a ring, but a different surprise. He kisses your lips in a chaste way, hoping you will not try to harp on this topic. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart, wait for it”

…

After dinner was different. A drop of temperatures and an easy flow of the air, dull lights of the street lamp illuminating your figures, inhaling the air in your lungs for the last time. The street is empty; no drivers, no smell of cigarettes, just you and him. And… silence fell upon you both.

Until his hand presses a tissue around your nose. It is suffocating; your nails dig into the arm, trying to worm out.

“Shhh, sweetheart, easy there” His voice brushes against your ear, soothing and intimate. The one he used when he fucked you. “Don’t make it worse for yourself...”

The warm body pressed against your back and kept you close until your body became pliant in Leon’s embrace on the silent night.

Tied up and unconscious. He is considerate enough to not let you experience the narrow space of the car trunk. With heaviness in his chest and like a scaredy cat, driving to his apartment - guilt shifts to euphoria in no time. You wanted this, no? Why would you stay with him after all? It doesn’t matter anymore. He was successful, finally. It worked. Today is his luckiest day, it should be highlighted on the calendar.

While this is the uncomfortable memory of your last date.

…

Every time you are alone, there are little things to do - you could have done some projects for college, maybe talk to friends and go to clubs. To catch a pretty guy, to have sex in the bathroom of the said club. Or fall in love with a guy of your age. It fills you with love and excitement like your hypothetical phone is going to ring as if you aren’t forced to be in Leon’s apartment.

Leon says you are a doll. Not those plastic bimbo dolls you see on social media with plastic acrylics that are longer than their eyelashes. Those reeks of cheapness by trying to be expensive, Leon has explained the difference to you. You are not Barbie or Bratz, those are ones you’d probably played with in your childhood, for Leon, you are another kind of a doll.

He is the one controlling you, making those dumb rules you’ve never memorized and you aren’t really going to. His grip around you is tight and your skin blooms with darker colors after playing with you.

Pretty, that word lives rent-free in his mind, almost becoming the most used of his. Favorite word. Your presence urges him to dress you up. A glance into the closet, most of it contains dresses and other items he has bought you. To take care of you, Leon almost emptied his wallet entirely for you a lot after getting you. It excites him. Admiring outfits he put you in and the same night, he is the one raising the fabric of your dress - two fingers or a dick inside you are enough to make you busy with moans and squirm.

He loves it, oh, he adores it. And your pussy is the best. It calms him, centers him - being someone’s center of the world is delightful, the only one time of the day in which he doesn’t feel insane. You make him feel sane, on the days when your mouth doesn’t run free.

From your point of view, he looks like he is trying to play house with you. In a wrong way. Playing house didn’t include tears or forced silence. Or forced participation. It should be fun, usually, it had been, at least in your childhood. Leon acts like this is normal like he didn’t just kidnap you during your date and force you to be here. He is still sweet, still spending his money on you (even though he doesn’t care about your preferences now), there is food on the table too. During the dinner, the silence is filled with stories from his work - names of people you don’t know. They don’t know you either, you aren’t the most famous captive girl on the planet after all. This is the bare minimum.

What’s more to ask for? Freedom, you are full of his shit actually, you would have preferred ignorance to be bliss cause his farce makes you feel insane. More unanswered questions flood your mind, they stick to your mind like a leech on the skin after a fresh swim on the summer day. You need to wash away this feeling, the only way is to question him. Right. First, you played nicely, still pitying him and holding him dear to your heart.

“What are you talking about, sweetie?” And a confused expression was his answer. He doesn’t even process what you said, just moves on. This didn’t work. Nothing fucking works here.

Now you prefer to poke those facts at him - like a harsh whiplash, a cold water against his face to bring him back to reality. You shouldn’t live like this alone.

Under your flesh there is a hidden hole filled with turbulent waters, almost tearing you apart - suffocating you with confusion. You wish hatred was the only reason to keep you sane, but the deep affection towards him still emerges like a bad dream. His tired eyes with loving and sweet nothing words come from his mouth, peppering your body and face with kisses when everything is right. The memories of nights with him flash in your mind: he is nice enough not to break you, while your body reacts in natural ways. You get wet, you feel pleasure, and his fingers know just the right spot to make your back arch.

This tears you apart, it confuses you too. Maybe there is something you don’t catch on, something missing. Conditioning? You aren’t a mindless idiot, nor a Pavlovian dog, but your body reacts like one. Maybe that’s a lie to reassure yourself. Still, you can’t drive yourself close to orgasm when he is not home. Your fingers aren’t enough anymore, almost with tears trying to get yourself off. To feel like your own person without him.

But something. Is. Always. Missing. You are incomplete.

…

It is already late, really late. Leon is a busy man, at least his job seems to be really important - so important, that he has always refused to tell you, avoiding the topic like the plague and switching to that honeyed tone, talking to you like a dumb puppy. Maybe it is some government shit job, something dirty - suitable for him.

But when he is late, many hopeful scenarios emerge, the most common is his car crushing to death. Good girls get gifts, their wishes get accomplished also, and they end up in heaven too - Leon told you that and to him, you are a good girl. Corny shit. Could he be right though? What if your wish was heard finally? Then remained trouble in your life would be to get out.

And the same dreams are crushed every time the sound of the car engine goes off, the jiggle of keys reaches your ears. You know it too well, you can recognize these little details and they fill you with dread. The sound of his steps, they are so different from others. The sound of his car doesn’t sound like those outside his house. Maybe you are insane, but everything he does is so recognizable it makes you sick.

And Leon is back.

His face is the only one you see, even in your dreams. There is nothing changeable in it. Light stubble, but still him. Shaved and it is still him. Different cologne. And still him. Leon sickens you, this little play often pushes your buttons, urging you to break this act and get yourself into trouble. Maybe the remains of hope are to blame, maybe Leon would change his mind and stop this.

He plops down on the couch, drawing your attention to him - impossible to ignore, if you did, you wouldn’t stop hearing the end of his complaints. His black shirt strains across his muscular body, the fabric is not shy to outline his big chest. Black suits him, but Leon looks good in everything forcing more dread stir in your chest.

“Finally, home” Leon sighs, his hand creeping up to pull you into his lap, acting unbothered. Your legs straddle his hips, facing him. Don’t forget, you are captive. And this is the part of the routine. He is going to watch those old movies from his childhood, or work silently(maybe he will nudge his cock inside you, to keep himself warm) and then he will fuck you. A tearful routine.

“…yay..!” You try to smile, forcing it to please him. Ignoring conflicting feelings in your body, anticipation to feel his dick mixed with dread. A yearning for change. Leon kisses your forehead.

His blue eyes feel heavy on your face, making you feel so little. “I missed you” Leon cooed with a honeyed tone, pulling you even closer. That light smell of beer coming from him forces your skin to crawl. His fingers pinch your cheek, tugging it briefly too. “My doll felt lonely today, right? Without me?”

Again, that mocking sweetness. The one you’d use for puppies. You nod with a hum “Mmm”

“I had a bad bad day today, those reports dried my eyes, god” he groans, his head tipped back, rubbing his eyes as to emphasize his words. But still gripping your waist. You don’t have the mood to be nice to him, his smile and relaxed expression stir dread and hate towards him. And yourself.

“You look like you had a bad day and not me” Leon comments, raising an eyebrow before his thumb tugs on the corner of your lips - smile. You had a bad day forever, your day can’t be compared to whatever he had today. His voice is sweet, but condescending, like he knows what is better for you. Leon doesn’t know shit.

“I don’t think you have reasons to be upset, huh? Your life is easy, baby” He snaps his fingers. Like an order. “pretty smile for me, no one likes grumpy girls”

“You are fucking sick… you know that?” Words spill out quickly and mindlessly, ignoring his distorted expression - you just want him to be in pain. Like you are. There is a hint of fear in your voice, subconsciously aware of what is going to happen after your words. “… you KIDNAPPED ME and you want me to play along with this act?…” A bittersweet pause. Adrenaline rushes through your blood, like after a good shot of vodka. “That’s fucking smart… asshole”

A hard swallow, trying to ignore the growing lump in your throat. Anxiety. This time, your voice is much quieter, you feel so small. Involuntarily shrinking away to shield yourself from what is coming. “I hate you”

There is an uncomfortable silence and his face is not blurry anymore - it is the only thing you can see right now. There is no slap, which is worse, silence is much scarier than a reaction cause you need to know what is going on in his head. You should have stayed silent instead, maybe Leon was right - you can’t stop but back talk and try to get yourself into trouble. You got yourself into this, not him.

Maybe an apology… wouldn’t it be late? Would it save? God, you MESSED this up. There is no way back.

His eyebrows furrowed, looking down at you with a clear discontent painting on his face, his fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks - uncomfortably keeping you still. This time being pretty and batting your eyelashes like a dumb doll is not going to save you.

“You are so spoiled. No one likes ungrateful bitches like you” Leon shakes his head, not giving a space to you to talk back again. “I buy you pretty things, I spend my time and money on you… and you repay me like that?”

He tilts your head, the grip is bruising, almost. Leon doesn’t give you flowers, but bruises look like them quite enough. His words hit you like a slap, making you feel like there is something tremendously wrong with you, not with him.

“Is it so hard to play nice and stay pretty for me?” He adds with a raised eyebrow. His thumb caresses your lower lip, playing and tugging it down, before pushing the digit past your soft and tender lips.

“And quiet.” He tsked, feeling warm saliva clinging to his thumb as it pressed down onto your tongue. Lucky for Leon, one of his wishes is accomplished - you can’t really talk, only muffled words, while your mouth is occupied with his digit. He keeps the grip on your jaw, before replacing it with two fingers. Pointer and middle finger. You are so pretty when you keep your mouth shut or around his fingers. Or dick. The latter is much preferable.

Your mouth is always warm, inviting, and wet. Hard to hide how such act affects you, your breathing catches in your chest, as his fingers keep rubbing the front of your tongue - messy and slick, not wetter than your cunt right now. Your mouth can not be compared to your pussy though, it has much more pros than disadvantages, the only con is the lack of wetness sometimes. Not something unfixable at the end of the day, a spit or lube (if he is in a good mood) can fix anything.

Your eyes are closed, feeling his other hand keeping your head pointed up where he can see you. To be honest, you don’t really know if you are just trying to illude yourself and hide from the truth - both options are useless, they bring you back to him. Every time his fingers are in your mouth, keeping you quiet and forcing you to suck on them - your pussy gets wet quickly like it is connected to your throat. His fingers delve deeper, moving in and out slowly. You can’t help yourself. Your clit throbs uncomfortably, urging you to do something about this, and your inner walls flutter around nothing - your mind reminds you of how good his dick feels. You probably look so pitiful to him, your eyes reflect well what your body begs for while drooling around his fingers.

Your thighs try to snap close, to rub them together and get that sweet-sweet stimulation, but they end up straddling his hips tighter - feeling the outline of his hard cock press against the damp and thin material of your underwear. It isn’t a big obstacle right now, the burning heat can be felt easily. A choked whine escapes from your mouth, realizing that his pants are still on him.

“Uh-huh, you want my attention?” Leon asks, not trying to be subtle with his tone, laced with mocking sweetness. His fingers leave your mouth with a wet pop, leaving a trail of droll connecting you both. It is so empty without him filling your senses. His eyebrows curl up, glaring down on you like at kicked puppy. He mocks you, another squirming heat crawls in your cunt. Embarrassingly wet, dripping, and staining his jeans with your slick. God, you ARE getting off when he is being patronizing with you. “You ruined my day, baby. Do you really think you deserve anything right now?”

Your mind is screaming at you to do something, you need that relief. His cock. Anything that will fill the emptiness inside you with pleasure. You shiver when his fingers brush across the hem of your underwear, clearly amused by how wet you are. They push aside the fabric, already wet by your saliva - slowly stroking your drenching folds. So warm and puffy, even the light touch of his fingers on your clit makes your body jolt like you are in pain.

“Leon…” Your voice sounds cloying, it goes straight to his hard dick, as you look under your eyelashes at his face - it makes you feel dumb. Any sentences or words are thrown away into the bin under his glare, he doesn’t even try hard to make you feel like that, there is no need cause you are dumb. And you ache for his cock, ignoring alarms in your head. You are just a dumb, aching doll.

And his. He told you that.

“What?” Leon pressed, already withdrew his fingers from your cunt, wanting to see you more desperate. Your hips try to grind against his hard cock, to get a light stimulation. You stay silent, words aren’t enough to formulate what swirls in your mind. Somewhat, his presence and words are always tied to that deep feeling of owing him something. What? Not clear, but it is still here, even if his cock empties your mind.

You are still his after the dramatics you pulled, right?

You swallow hard, the sight of his unmoving hand on the belt makes your cunt painfully ache, ignoring your mind screaming at you to hit him. You don’t deserve this, it whispers. The guilty part of your brain won a long time ago, it overwhelms that soothing reminder - canceling it completely - you need to hurry up him. You are at fault, it whispers. “…Please…” Forgive me, I need you.

You gasp as in rasp motion he changes your position, shoving you and you end up with your back pressed down flatly on the soft material of the couch, while Leon hovers over you. And he kisses your forehead, with the same tenderness and affection he has given you before - like a couple, married couple on honeymoon. Your mind misses the bullseye with this conclusion, but whatever helps, right? The spot burns hot, as a reminder that you have to please him.

Clink-clink! It snaps you out of your thoughts. The sound of his belt makes your skin crawl, and more slick pools in between your thighs like at the unvoiced command. You try to buck your hips up, only to end up restrained by his hand - it grips tightly your flesh, in a bruising hold, and the signs will bloom into another purplish collection in the morning. His hand pins your hips down, - silently denying the control over your pleasure. Couldn’t be even wetter at this point.

It isn’t really visible, but his breathless sigh signaled you that his hand is, probably, wrapped around his cock. You squirm, to prop yourself to look down and maybe get comfier - again, he pushes you down with a head shake.

Your legs shake when his cock presses up in between your drenching folds, the slick clings to the skin, and his cock head nudges against your aching clit. And this hits so good too, his hard cock slides across your cunt. You can’t help but let your hips buck up back, again - to get your own control on the pleasure. Tsk. Your attempt gets easily interrupted again, as his hand pushes your hips down. His cock gets harder after every slow and agonizing rut, the wet sounds of your slick pressing and smearing his cock is like music to his ears. No wonder it is so easy to get lost, thank god your attempts to worm out of his grip snap him out of that pleasure.

You are so impatient. But for Leon, sex is so much simpler, cause he is a simple man. With age many things change, they get uncomplicated. Of course, Leon likes good stuff; tasty good, keeping you pretty, watching how your tits bounce with every thrust and feeling your flesh under his hands, how you react to him. But the sex isn’t the lovemaking or a way to satisfy you, for him, it would be useless to keep you here then. There is a deep desire to hold onto his past, on the part he is so close to lose touch with after every birthday date. And you are perfect for this. Life goes on and without him, but yours can’t go on without him now. Every time he sees you so confused, depending on him - he can’t lie, it makes his cock jolt. He wants to see every little expression on your face, - desperation, affection, confusion, misery, everything - to etch the sight into his memory.

“Baby, you don’t know what’s good for you..” Leon says, there is no answer from you and he doesn’t really need one. His eyes are focused on his cock nudging your hole before slowly pressing in - now watching your spasming and drenching hole swallows his cock. And you gasp.

Without fingers, without any preparation, but wet as hell, you still feel tight as sin. It is easier to get through though. The velvet softness of your fluttering cunt is addicting as your walls clench around him in a vice grip with every inch pushed inside.

It is dizzying how your mind empties together with your body, any remains of conflict regarding this situation is gone. Focusing on how his cock stretches your walls, leaving you breathless and trembling at the slow-filling sensation in your cunt. Your hands creep to rest on his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

His cock pushes through, until its tip presses against your cervix - he is deep inside, his hips nestled right against your ass - and your pussy is so overwhelmingly full, for a moment you forgot how to breathe.

“That’s okay” Leon cooed again. His hand brushes across the skin of your collarbone, caressing it. Burns and you are hot, to the point his touch felt cold. You shiver, his hand is always pleasant to feel, but at the same, the feeling of it is accompanied by something else, you can’t ever catch it. It is brief but always gives you awareness.

Your chest rises up and down unsteadily, looking probably pathetic right now as his hips start moving. Already overwhelmed without a way out.

“Awww, you are just a dumb thing, not knowing anything better” Leon drawls with an amused smirk.

The pace is set, rhythmically rocking against you, using your cunt like a toy. You want to roll your own hips back, to do something but today isn’t your day. You already forgot about your earlier lash-out, as the only sounds reaching your ears are flesh-hitting ones mixed with your moans. His lips are parted on a soft stream of pants.

“N-no..” This attempt of protest slips out easily from your mouth, without giving too much thought into what may happen. Your nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders. His hand creeps higher, to rest on your neck in a loose grip, a silent warning perhaps. Pretty faces don’t need to do anything other than being pretty, but tonight you let your mouth slip out too often.

The hand on your hip pushes it down again, the grip hurts actually. Feels like there are already bruises forming and he is clearly not pleased with you. He isn’t at all, your comments ruin his fun. They distract him from your tight pussy, how hot it is, and engulf him, begging him to thrust ruthlessly and fill you.

Unspoken rule, you should be silent and let him use your cunt without other noises than incoherent moans.

“Oh, no-no” Leon mocks you, a sharp, unexpected thrust, his cock head grinds against your cervix. To punctuate his words his grip on your throat tightens. Or you are imagining this? Another thrust, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hips start dragging his cock out of you, then he pushes it back deep inside. “I know what’s better for you.”

Every deep thrust into your spasming cunt, your thighs shake, and muscles in your body flex every time your hips connect. And his hand squeezes your throat, you can clearly feel the outlines of his fingers on the skin of your throat. God, is the grip getting tighter? Is he trying to cut the air? This fills your body with panic; it writhes even more, ignoring the painful grip on your hip and becoming more aware of the one that’s getting tighter around your neck.

Yeah, he is angry at you.

“Doll, you brought this… on yourself” Leon whispers breathlessly, watching your expression twist with a mix of pleasure and fear. Your hands travel from his shoulders to his wrist, nails dig into its flesh. “don’t resist”

His hand angles your hip better, losing the rhythm of the pace as his cock pounds into you in quick and deep thrusts. It hits your g-spot too, but the lack of air is the biggest of your worries right now. Your cunt flutters, getting tighter with the less air incoming, and more tingly wave of sensation rides over your body. The tips of your fingers feel weird, and your entire body starts to drown in numbness. It is weirdly pleasant but at the same time scary. Deep down you like it, not realizing it.

“Come on,” Leon grunts, his grip on your neck doesn’t lessen, and you try to focus on something else other than the possibility of passing out. Your walls clench around his dick tighter, and your mouth opens uselessly as a dumb fish trying to speak, but the only sound coming out is a muffled one.

“If you are so smart… fuck…” He moans, you feel so good, your walls clenched tight around his dragging cock and your body is so easily letting him use your pussy. He can get drunk on it. “…use your big mouth”

His grip tightens, and another choked moan tries to drawl out of your mouth. Nothing comes out other than a quiet, pathetic mewl. It feels like you are going to die.

“Use your filthy and smart mouth” He taunts again, the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. His hips thrust into you in rough and hard movements. It feels like just his presence is overfilling you. Maybe the lack of oxygen is to blame. “or you can only use it for my dick.. huh? Like a whore, not a doll”

“A…m, S-s” I am sorry. You try your best, but it is hard to do multitasking when your head is so lightheaded and his dick inside you feels so good. Your body feels numb like it doesn’t belong to you anymore, writhing and squirming every time his cockhead hit your cervix - a pang of tingling mixture, something so new and pleasurable, but at the same time foreign, with the hint of pain. But it is a delicious kind of hurt, toe-curling one.

You are going to pass out, trying to swallow down the saliva pooling in your mouth and your nails dig into the skin of his bicep - begging, unawarely your eyes sprinkle with tears. “S-..sor-r—” This is your best attempt.

Orgasm has always been different with him, it is warm, still keeping your turmoil. This time it is crushing, but feels shorter than it was actually. It hits your body unexpectedly, filling to the brim with the feeling of his cock spouting cum inside you, while every patch of your skin is numb and burning hot.

Confusing your mind more when his hand slipped away, so close to pass out and the quick rush of air fills your lungs almost choking you, overwhelming the pleasure of your own orgasm. You are so sensitive, at the brink of tears - not having any strength to keep them in, they easily well in your eyes, blurring even more the vision before rolling down. It doesn’t hit like it should cause you are too focused on the fading numbness and shaking while inhaling the air - unreasonably afraid(to Leon) that he is going to take it away again. Breathing feels much better than sex, right now at least.

He pulls out his dick, and his cum slowly oozes out of your hole, while you are still recovering. Not hiding where his gaze is directed. It is hypnotizing, urging him to shove it back into you with his fingers and keep his cum inside you for a little bit longer. You snap him out of this trance with your sobbing and incoherent words.

“I am so—sorry!” You sob, tugging onto the fabric of his black shirt to pull him closer to you. Seeking comfort in him, you don’t have any other options. He can’t deny this to you, his arm wraps around your shoulders. And even if you had other choices, still you would crawl back to Leon. “I was mistaken… I am so-so sorry. It was a mistake!”

God, you shake like a leaf right now. He huffs as if your words were the most obvious thing. Like the sky is blue or two plus two is four. It is hard to push you away, the trembling and teared-up mess. Leon enjoys that.

“There you are, baby. I got it” Leon sighs, the crease in between his eyebrows deepens. His hand brushes away your hair from your face, to get a better glance of your state. Mistake. Everything is a mistake here - your presence, getting off only of him, texting him first, and letting him take you on dates. Leon can’t help, but chuckle. “Of course. Indeed a mistake, doll”

[reyesstrand]

I wish you would write a fic where they remedy the 'he fell asleep during sexi-time' situation

(so. reading this back i’ve realized something possessed me and this is probably not what you were hoping for anon 😭 but once the idea got in my head i just ran with it. sorry!!)

“So, how are we doing today?”

It feels like a reprise of their first session. It’s raining, today, and the gentle tap tap tap of it against the windows feels like a comforting embrace. Not just for the serenity, but because things have been good, recently. The pit of hope that they can make it through anything has only bloomed inside him since they first saw Dr. Spencer, and it keeps him afloat as he leans to the side so he can keep holding Carlos’ hand.

The first few questions are geared toward Carlos, as Dr. Spencer—Helen, she keeps reminding them—asks him about his work; about any changes he might have made recently after previous revelations about grief and finding answers at the bottom of a case file. It still takes a few moments for Carlos to put his thoughts together, to be vulnerable, but he reflects on all that’s changed in the past two weeks as TK gets lost in staring at his husband.

He crosses one leg over the other and feels at peace, as he reminisces on this morning’s brunch at a new place uptown, where they ate on a colourful patio and shared chilaquiles while sipping on iced lattes. TK absentmindedly plays with his wedding ring, twisting it around his finger with his thumb, as he takes in the way Carlos looks younger, now that he’s here in this office out of uniform.

He still grapples with a weight too big to name, visible in the slight hunch of his shoulders and his need, today, for his glasses, but he looks beautiful just the same—curls not tamed by any gel, his arms bursting in his maroon t-shirt.

“You look like you agree, TK,” Helen says, snapping him from his reverie. Carlos had been talking about how there’s still work to do, but they’re good, again. More like how they used to be.

“I do,” TK nods, squeezing back when Carlos grips his fingers tight. “It started on the night of our anniversary, actually.”

“Tell me about it,” Helen encourages, pen poised above her notepad but her warm gaze focused on them both.

“We just…connected, again,” TK starts, gazing over at his husband to find Carlos already looking at him.

That night is something rich in vivid colour to him, a treasured keepsake that he cradles in the space between his ribs and his heart. He remembers his pulse jackrabbiting when Carlos looked imploringly at him; when Carlos spoke the words TK’s always believed to be true, that every moment they share is a gift.

TK also remembers the kiss. The moan he fed into his husband’s mouth when Carlos’ hand gripped the back of his neck and pivoted them so TK was pressed against the dining table; the shivers that traveled up his spine when Carlos’ knee pushed between his legs.

“You had a long day,” TK gasps, as Carlos bites down on the hinge of his jaw. “You’re sure you’re—”

“Baby, I’m sure,” Carlos tells him, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. He steps away, then, and walks toward their bedroom. With a crook of his finger, Carlos’ voice sounds wrecked as he half-pleads, half-commands, “Come here.”

TK can still feel the weight of his husband: on his body, against his thighs, on his tongue. TK looks at Carlos again, and feels a dimple carve into his cheek as he shrugs one shoulder and tells Helen: “He didn’t fall asleep on me this time.”

Carlos rolls his eyes playfully, but strokes his thumb over TK’s knuckles. “Never living that one down, huh, babe.”

TK grins, and wants to sit in the familiarity of their teasing longer, but something more prods at his brain.

“We aren’t—I don’t think we can be what we once were, exactly,” TK admits, looking now at the patterned carpet under their feet. “But we aren’t the same people we were before my mom died. We aren’t the same people we were before we lost our first place together. And I think this path we’re on…I think it’ll take time, but, we’ll be better. We always make it through.”

Carlos gives him a watery smile, and presses a kiss to the back of TK’s hand. “Always.”

(i wish you would write a fic where…game!)

[hugemilkshake]

It's time to break the system! Yan!Reader × Smilk!

Enjoy the milkshake! When I first read this I was like “oh cool I can rewrite my yan smilk headcannons” but then I reread it, tbh I’ve never done yan reader so I’m putting this in the deep fryer and hoping for the best.

This will also be headcannons since like I said, this is new

Yandere Reader x Shadow Milk head cannons

-platonic or romantic, has romantic undertones though-

Word bank!

galère- a group of undesirable people

amaranthine- (adj) undying, immortal; eternally beautiful

limerence- an involuntary state of mind which seems to result from a romantic attraction to another person combined with an overwhelming, obsessive need to have one's feelings reciprocated.

!TW! Under the cut there will be yandere reader, obsessive themes, delusional thoughts

and me finding cool words on Pinterest

Pre corruption

He was like a beacan of light to you. You were lost and didn’t know what to do

But then he showed up

He inquired about your troubles, his input was genuine and actually helpful, you asked him questions and listened intently to what he had to say

His knowledge seemed vast and infinite, his light guided you towards the safety of a village by the Spire of Knowledge

You couldn’t believe it, the virtue of knowledge spared you a fraction of his time and a drop of his infinite knowledge

It felt like a blessing, a blessing from the witches themselves

Whenever you could, you’d try talking to the virtue of knowledge, and unlike those other cookies, you never wanted any answers to a question or a blessing, you just wanted to know who this cookie was under all of that benevolence

Theater seemed to be something he liked! You started acting and writing play and doing whatever you can so he can spare you one glance

You hated seeing the virtue of knowledge being bombarded with questions about silly things

All the crowds around him were galère. You should be the only one around this amaranthine cookie

When things started to change with the virtue, you kept admiring, the more aggressive he got, the more you’d smile

You liked seeing him take back his life, lying to keep them satisfied, just dress like a wolf in sheep’s clothing

But one day… he snapped

There was a rampage throughout the village, most were forced to battle each other… but you.. you were sparred

Seeing the beast of deceit, Shadow Milk Cookie sparing you filled you with some sort of limerence

If you were spared that means he likes you right?

You never left the spire of deceit, waiting for the day he’d return! You gave yourself immortality after all!

So you have an eternity to wait for his arrival.

[miz-chase]

Remember how Temperance “monogamy is stupid” “marriage treats women as property” “heteronormativity is a harmful social construct” “it takes a village” Brennan got a house in the suburbs, had 1.5 kids, got married in a catholic ceremony, and generally got absorbed by Standard Tv Mom-Wife?

Good news, the writers of Bones have reached out and need us to write how this would have actually played out in queer non-standard ways. What actually happened?

My suggestions:

They don’t get married because their love is more than a state-recognized business partnership OR it is actually Brennan’s idea very early on, she makes a courthouse date last minute so they can get tax benefits. She does not wear a white dress, thank you very much.

Brennan keeps her apartment. She needs her alone time sometimes, and it’s hard for Booth to not take that personally. He’s the type to insist they sleep in the same bed even if he can’t sleep because she snores too much. It takes time to feel secure enough and recognize she’s not rejecting him when she needs to be alone. It makes times when they’re together that much more special.

Jared, Padme, Rus, Amy and the girls are way more present. It’s less a focus on the B&B household and more on the supportive network of everyone taking care of each other and each others kids. Same goes for Ange, Hodgins, and Michael-Vincent, who are always trading off whose house they’re staying at.

They take in foster kids, which is more important to both of them than needing to have a genetic connection. They both know what it’s like to need some love after being abandoned by their families. Maybe they even take in Jared’s kid, if things with him go south.

Parker’s gay. He comes out to Brennan first because he’s scared his dad is going to freak out, what with the whole Catholic thing. Brennan, who has no filter even on her good days, is confused and immediately outs Booth as being bisexual. Happy family ending where everyone gets a kinder sort of masculinity than the show allows.

When Brennan needs a break, or has moral scruples with how her own evidence is manipulated to incarcerate innocent people, she takes on projects that better suit her moral priorities. She joins efforts working on the American and Canadian boarding schools, the Magdalene Laundries and other similar mass burial sites. Booth is initially uncomfortable but then becomes emphatically supportive. The Church he believes in should never have done these things, so it’s his moral duty as a good Catholic to seek justice for those that the church wronged.

Similarly, Booth and some old buddies start asking some questions, poking and prodding the right people with the right kind of concerns. They end up putting together an effort to investigate American and ally war crimes in Afghanistan. Brennan is the perfect person to lead the research effort, and it’s excellent work for her students. Similar to the Church, I think Booth’s pride in the military can go hand-in-hand with trying to right it’s wrongs and hold it to a higher standard.

As far as the monogamy thing goes, I think it would be complicated to get there, but not impossible. It would take a long time for Booth to feel secure enough in their relationship to even consider it. I think it’s relatively easy for him to accept that Brennan and Angela have A Thing. I think, with some tweaks, there’s a future where, when Hannah comes through town, they all have fun together.

What else?? Please share your thoughts!!

[izumkay]

THE CONTRACT CLAUSE- |CH-1|

—SATORU GOJO

ღPairing- SatoruGojo×Fem!Reader

ღSummary- Thanks to your friend, Haibara, you land a job at the country’s top company—but CEO Satoru Gojo? He’s not impressed. Between causing him trouble and his infuriating charm, you quickly become his favorite target. But when things take an unexpected turn, Gojo finds himself in a position he never thought he’d be—desperate, frustrated, and drawn to you in ways he can’t ignore. The office just got a lot more dangerous—and a lot more heated.

Genres/tags- Modern AU, love triangle, Enemies to lovers, contract marriage, office romanc, Sunshine×Grumpy, fluff, tension, forced proximity, Satoru is desperate for you, why not?

Warnings- 18+ only, sexual content, toxicity, angst, hate sex, mentions of death, blood, hurt/comfort, obsession, possessiveness, SA attempts.

Wc- 6.1k

♡A/n- and here's another series, kinda getting wild writting 4 fics at same time, my hands been itching to write this, and here it is, hope you enjoy this series😋

You never expected to land a job at one of the most prestigious companies in the country. But here you were, walking through the gleaming halls of a corporate empire, thanks to your friend Haibara. He’d been raving about the opportunity for weeks, insisting you’d be perfect for it, despite the fact that your background wasn’t exactly corporate royalty.

"Don’t worry," Haibara said with a wink as he led you into the building, "Gojo’s an easy guy to get along with. Just don’t take him too seriously."

Easy? From what you’d heard about the CEO, Satoru Gojo was anything but easy. The man was a legend—charming, brilliant, and with a reputation for making life hell for anyone who crossed him. Not exactly the kind of person you’d expect to have an easy time with.

When Haibara introduced you to Gojo in the lobby, you weren’t sure what you were expecting. But when the CEO turned around, grinning like he owned the world, it was worse than you could’ve imagined.

"Ah, so this is the famous friend of Haibara," Gojo said, his tone light but his eyes scanning you with obvious amusement. "Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you."

You frowned, unsure how to take that. Haibara had warned you about Gojo’s charm, but you couldn’t help the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

"I’m sure you have," you replied coolly, "It’s hard not to leave an impression."

Gojo’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, trust me, I’m sure you’ll leave quite an impression here too."

You didn’t like the sound of that, but Haibara quickly ushered you away, probably sensing the tension already building.

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

The first day at the company went exactly as you’d expected—awkward and filled with subtle judgments. As Haibara had promised, most people were friendly enough, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that some of them were sizing you up, like they didn’t quite believe you belonged. But nothing prepared you for your interactions with Gojo.

For the first few days, he kept his distance—mostly. But then came the first meeting, a big one that you’d been nervously preparing for. You had to present some data that, frankly, you weren’t entirely confident about. Just as you were halfway through your presentation, you heard Gojo’s voice cut through your nerves.

“Actually,” he interrupted with a cocky smile, “I think the numbers are wrong. Did you check these?”

Your stomach sank as all eyes in the room turned to you. Gojo leaned back in his chair, watching with mild amusement, his usual playful grin now tinged with a hint of superiority.

“I—I’m sure they’re accurate,” you stammered, trying to regain your footing. But Gojo didn’t back down.

"Really? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve missed a few important figures." His eyes glinted as he leaned forward, a mock-serious tone in his voice. "Maybe next time, you should double-check your work before presenting it."

You could feel the heat rising in your face. The room was silent, all attention on you. You glanced at Haibara, who gave you a sheepish smile, clearly not expecting this level of public humiliation.

“Gojo, I—” You cut yourself off, the urge to snap at him bubbling up. “Maybe you should check your own numbers first before you criticize mine.”

There was a brief, stunned silence before Gojo let out a laugh, loud and infectious. “Oh, I like you.” His eyes twinkled, and the way he looked at you felt more like a challenge than anything else. "Keep it up."

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

The rest of the meeting was a blur. Every word you spoke felt like it was being analyzed, judged, and immediately met with Gojo’s cool, unbothered responses. By the time it ended, you were completely drained.

Haibara found you standing in the hallway afterward, clearly trying to regain some composure. “Hey, don’t let him get to you,” he said, offering a grin that was a little too wide to be comforting. "Gojo’s just... Gojo. He’s always like that with new people. He’ll come around."

You shot him a look. “If by ‘come around,’ you mean ‘make my life miserable,’ then yeah, I’m sure he will.”

Haibara laughed nervously, clearly not expecting this much tension so soon. “Just... try not to let him get under your skin too much. I know he’s a pain, but it’s all part of the job.”

You stared after Gojo’s retreating form, already plotting your next move. If he thought this was a game, well... you weren’t about to lose.

“He literally humiliated me during today’s presentation, Haibara,” you said through gritted teeth, storming down the hallway. “I was trying to make a good impression, and he—he mocked me in front of everyone.”

Haibara sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I warned you about Gojo. He’s… a lot. But that’s just how he is with everyone new. He likes to test people.”

“Test people?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “He practically made me look like a complete idiot. I’ll never live that down.”

Haibara gave you a sympathetic look, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. “Look, I get it. It’s not fun. But the thing about Gojo is, if he’s teasing you, it means he’s paying attention. He doesn’t waste his time on people he doesn’t care about.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “Wait… you mean he does this to everyone? Just to mess with them?”

Haibara nodded, almost reluctantly. “Yeah. He’s not exactly known for being subtle. But if you can put up with it, you’ll see a different side of him. Trust me.”

“Great.” You sighed. “Now I’m supposed to just... what? Endure his reign of terror until he decides to show me that ‘different side?’”

“Exactly,” Haibara said, half-grinning. “And I’m pretty sure he’ll find a way to make it up to you—somehow. It’s just the way he works.”

You looked down the hallway, where Gojo had disappeared into his office. “I swear, I’m going to make him regret ever messing with me.”

Haibara just chuckled. “Careful what you wish for. Gojo’s not as easy to outsmart as you think.”

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

The company cafeteria was bustling as usual, but you were in no mood to enjoy it. After the disaster of your first presentation, you'd barely managed to salvage your dignity. All you wanted was some peace and quiet with your lunch before heading back to work.

You were mid-bite when a shadow fell over your table.

"Well, if it isn’t my favorite new employee," a familiar, infuriating voice drawled.

You looked up to see Gojo, his signature cocky smile plastered across his face. He held a coffee cup in one hand and a perfectly balanced tray of food in the other, looking like he had all the time in the world. Without asking, he slid into the seat across from you.

"What do you want, Gojo?" you asked, your voice flat.

He leaned back in his chair, completely unbothered by your tone. “Nothing, really. I just thought I’d check in on you after that interesting performance in the meeting earlier. You know, see how you’re holding up.”

Your jaw tightened. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Are you, though?” he teased, resting his chin on his hand. “Because it looked like you were about two seconds away from throwing your laptop at me.”

You gripped your fork tightly. “I was two seconds away from throwing my shoe at you.”

Gojo laughed, loud enough to draw attention from nearby tables. “See? That’s the kind of passion I like to see in my employees. Keep that up, and you might actually survive here.”

You glared at him, your appetite completely gone. “Do you always make a habit of humiliating people in front of their colleagues, or am I just lucky?”

His smile faltered for the briefest moment, but then it was back, brighter than ever. “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad. If anything, I was helping you toughen up. This industry isn’t for the faint of heart, you know.”

You didn’t bother responding, choosing instead to stab at your salad with a little too much force. Gojo, of course, didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t care.

“You know,” he continued, as if he hadn’t already said enough, “if you ever need pointers on how to actually impress people in a meeting, I’d be happy to help. Just say the word.”

Your fork clattered against your plate as you stood abruptly. “You know what, Gojo? I don’t need your ‘help.’ What I need is for you to stop making my life a living hell.”

Without waiting for his response, you grabbed your tray and walked away, ignoring the amused chuckles that followed you. You could practically feel his smug grin burning into your back as you stormed out of the cafeteria.

You could feel the weight of other employees’ eyes on you as you stormed out of the cafeteria. It wasn’t hard to guess why—The Satoru Gojo had been sitting across from you, grinning like he didn’t have a care in the world, and you had dared to talk to him so casually, like he was nothing.

Whispers trailed behind you as you made your way to the elevator.

“Did you see how she talked to him?”

“Who even is she?”

“I heard Haibara got her the job…”

You clenched your fists, willing yourself not to turn around and snap at them. Of course, they were surprised. Gojo wasn’t just the CEO; he was practically a legend around here—charming, untouchable, and so ridiculously good-looking it made you sick. People probably bent over backward to please him, and yet here you were, treating him like the pain in the ass he was.

You pressed the elevator button with more force than necessary, muttering under your breath. “Why does he have to be so insufferable? Couldn’t he just ignore me like a normal boss?”

The elevator doors opened, and you stepped inside, leaning back against the wall with a sigh. As much as you hated to admit it, Gojo’s charm was dangerous—not because it worked on you, but because it made everyone else act like he could do no wrong.

But you? You saw through him. Beneath that perfect smile and effortless confidence was just a guy who got off on making people’s lives harder. Well, if he thought you were going to be another one of his fans, he had another thing coming.

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

Your shift finally ended, and the office was slowly emptying out as employees trickled toward the elevators. Letting out a sigh of relief, you pushed back in your chair, relaxing for the first time all day. Stretching your arms above your head, you savored the feeling of being done.

Grabbing your bag, you slung it over your shoulder and stood, ready to make your way home. But just as you turned, someone tapped your shoulder. Startled, you spun around to see a woman standing behind you.

She had brown hair, and though her dark circles made her look utterly exhausted, there was an air of calmness about her that instantly put you at ease. She looked like someone who had been through a lot but didn’t let it faze her.

“Hey, newbie,” she greeted, her voice soft and unhurried, as though the chaos of the office didn’t touch her. “I’m Shoko Ieiri. Pleasure to meet you.”

There was no sharpness, no judgment in her tone—just simple politeness. You felt your shoulders relax a little more.

You gave her a small smile and introduced yourself in return.

Shoko nodded, adjusting the strap of her bag. “I’ve seen you around. Figured I’d say hello before you got swallowed up by this place.” She gestured around the emptying office with a faint smirk.

You chuckled nervously. “Yeah, it’s… definitely been an interesting first few days.”

“Let me guess,” she said, raising an eyebrow knowingly. “Gojo?”

The way she said his name, with just a hint of exasperation, made you laugh despite yourself. “How’d you know?”

Shoko rolled her eyes. “Oh, he has a habit of singling people out. Likes to see how much he can push before they snap. Don’t let it get to you. He’s harmless—mostly.”

“Mostly?” you repeated, skeptical.

Shoko smirked. “He’s annoying, not evil. Though sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.” She tilted her head, studying you. “You stood up to him, didn’t you?”

Your face flushed slightly, and you shrugged. “I wasn’t about to just sit there and let him walk all over me.”

Shoko’s smirk widened into a small grin. “Good. He needs someone to put him in his place every once in a while. Just… don’t let him get too under your skin. That’s what he wants.”

You weren’t sure whether her advice was comforting or ominous, but it was nice to have at least one ally in this place.

“Well, thanks for the heads-up,” you said with a small smile.

Shoko waved you off. “No problem. And if you ever need a break from Gojo’s nonsense, come find me. I’m usually in the infirmary—or hiding on the roof.”

With that, she gave you a lazy wave and headed toward the elevators, leaving you standing there feeling a little less alone in this chaotic new world.

She's hot.

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

The next few days were a blur of work, tension, and Gojo’s irritatingly constant presence. Each time you saw him, you could practically feel the weight of his eyes on you, his gaze a mix of amusement and challenge. It was like he was always waiting for you to crack, and you weren’t about to give him that satisfaction.

It wasn’t until a week later that things took a strange turn.

You were in the breakroom, pouring yourself a coffee when you heard footsteps approach from behind. Before you could turn around, a voice cut through the quiet hum of the room.

"Mind if I join you?"

You didn’t have to look to know it was Gojo. His voice was unmistakable.

You paused for a moment, then finally turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "Are you... allowed in the breakroom?"

Gojo chuckled, clearly amused by your sarcasm. "I run this place, remember? I’m allowed wherever I want."

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your cool. "Right. Forgot about that."

He leaned casually against the counter, his presence taking up way too much space in the room. "You’re still holding a grudge about the meeting, huh?"

"Why would I not be?" You shot back, folding your arms. "You made me look like an idiot in front of everyone."

Gojo grinned. "I didn’t make you look like an idiot. I just pointed out what you missed. No big deal."

"No big deal?" You shook your head in disbelief. "That’s easy for you to say."

Gojo took a slow sip of his coffee, eyeing you with that infuriating, confident look. "You’ll get over it."

You felt the heat rise in your chest. “I’m not getting over it, Gojo. Not until you apologize.”

He blinked at you, as if surprised. “Apologize?”

“Yes, apologize,” you repeated firmly. “For humiliating me.”

For a moment, Gojo was silent. Then, in a tone that sounded way too calm for your liking, he said, "I don’t do apologies."

You stared at him, trying to suppress the frustration building inside you.

Gojo’s smile softened, just slightly, as he leaned closer. "But I do know how to make it up to people. If you’re willing to let me."

Before you could respond, he was already walking out, leaving you standing there, once again at a loss for words.

What's his problem? Fucking bastard.

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

It was lunchtime, and you were more than ready to get away from your desk for a bit of peace and quiet. You grabbed your lunch from your bag, planning to eat in solitude, away from the chaos of the office. The thought of being alone, if only for a little while, was comforting.

But as you started to make your way toward the breakroom, two girls appeared in front of you. They were dressed similarly—well-put-together, with matching smiles that felt a little too rehearsed.

“Hey, newbie,” one of them said in a sweet voice that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Wanna have lunch with us?”

You hesitated, glancing at the two of them. You weren’t in the mood for small talk. You just wanted to eat in peace. "Uh, no, you can go on, thanks," you replied, already feeling the discomfort of the situation.

But they didn’t move. Instead, they exchanged a look, almost like they were trying to decide something. Then, the other girl spoke up. “Come on, we’d love to get to know you better. You don’t want to eat alone, do you?”

You could feel the pressure mounting. It was clear they weren’t going to take no for an answer. You sighed, trying to keep your frustration in check.

“Really, it’s fine. I’m just—”

But the first girl cut you off, her tone more insistent now. “It’s not a big deal. We’ve already got a spot saved for you.”

They stepped forward, practically guiding you down the hallway toward the cafeteria. Your resistance was futile. They were pulling you into their orbit whether you liked it or not.

You shot a look of exasperation at them, but they only smiled sweetly, too sweetly, as if they had no idea how fake it all felt.

Great. Just what I need.

You let out a small groan as they guided you into the crowded cafeteria, making your way to a table at the far end, far enough to feel isolated from the rest of the office. They both sat down, pulling out their lunch with practiced ease, waiting for you to sit across from them.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” the first girl insisted, flashing you a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We don’t bite.”

You sat down, feeling the weight of their expectations press down on you. "Thanks," you muttered, unfolding your napkin and trying to focus on your food. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t just trying to be friendly.

“So,” the second girl began, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “How’s your first week been? We heard you’re special—you know, thanks to Haibara.”

You raised an eyebrow, shooting a glance at her. “Special?”

“Oh, we’ve heard all about how Haibara got you the job. He’s quite the popular guy around here,” she said, her tone almost too casual, like she was fishing for something.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you focused on your food, trying to ignore the unease creeping up your spine. But the silence between you was thick, like they were waiting for you to crack, to say something.

It was then that the first girl leaned in slightly, her voice lowering as if she were about to share a secret. “You know, Gojo doesn’t usually take well to people who are… difficult to handle. And Gojo seems pretty interested in you.”

Your grip on your fork tightened. Of course, they knew. It was practically the office gossip by now.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said coolly, trying to hide your growing irritation. “I’m just here to do my job, like everyone else.”

But they weren’t buying it. The second girl smirked, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Oh, we’re sure you’re just here to do your job. But with Gojo, things don’t always go as smoothly as you’d like, right?”

You shot them both a look, your patience running thin. “Is there a point to this conversation, or are you just trying to get under my skin?”

The first girl giggled, but it sounded fake, like a high-pitched attempt to cover up something else. “We’re just saying… be careful. People around here might not be as nice as you think.”

You looked at them both, sensing the underlying threat in their words, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d made a huge mistake by getting caught up in this office politics mess.

But you weren’t about to back down. “Thanks for the warning,” you replied, with as much calm as you could muster. “But I can handle myself.”

The tension in the air was palpable, but they didn’t press further. Instead, they exchanged a look, nodded to each other, and then turned their attention back to their food, as if the conversation had never happened.

But you could feel the weight of their words hanging over you. Be careful.

You weren’t sure if it was their jealousy, or something more sinister, but one thing was clear—this wasn’t just about lunch anymore.

As the lunch continued, the two girls didn’t seem to let up. Instead of wrapping up their conversation, they ordered even more food—each plate arriving in front of them like they were trying to prove something. They smiled at each other, exchanging whispers, occasionally throwing glances your way.

“More food?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as a waiter brought over a massive platter of sushi and another tray of tempura. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

The first girl, who had barely touched her own meal, grinned. “Oh, we’re just hungry. And we thought you might want to try some more things. You know, since you’re still... adjusting to the office.”

You stared at the food, trying to make sense of their behavior. It was becoming clear that they weren’t just offering a kind gesture—they were making a statement. They wanted you to feel out of place, to see how out of their league you were.

“Don’t worry,” the second girl chimed in, her voice almost too sweet for comfort. “We’ll be here to help you with everything. We’re kind of experts around here, after all.”

You caught the undertone in her words, a hint of superiority that made your skin crawl. They weren’t interested in being friends. They were sizing you up, measuring you against their version of the office hierarchy.

Taking a deep breath, you forced a smile and said, “I’m good, really. Thanks.” You didn’t want their charity, nor did you want to be their pawn in whatever game they were playing.

But it didn’t matter. They kept piling food onto the table, filling every empty space as if to make sure you couldn’t escape their clutches. At that moment, you realized they weren’t just trying to be nice—they were trying to show off. They were flexing their power in this place, and you were just the unlucky newcomer caught in their spotlight.

Your stomach churned with the sudden feeling of being trapped. You had to get out.

The two girls continued to push food toward you, their smiles becoming more insistent with each passing minute.

"Come on, you’ve gotta try this," the first girl said, nudging a plate of sushi closer to you. "It’s really good. You wouldn’t want to miss out."

You glanced at the platter, feeling the weight of their gaze on you, the pressure mounting. But there was no way you were going to eat with them—not after everything that had just happened.

You shook your head, forcing a polite smile. "Thanks, but I’m fine. I’m really not that hungry."

They exchanged another look, the kind that made you feel like you were being judged in ways you couldn’t fully comprehend. The second girl raised an eyebrow, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. "Oh, come on, don’t be shy. We ordered all this for you, after all."

You stiffened. All this for me? It was clear now. They weren’t being generous. They were trying to trap you in their world, to make you feel like you owed them something.

"No, really," you said, shaking your head more firmly this time. "I’m not hungry. You can enjoy it yourselves."

The first girl leaned back, folding her arms with a small pout. "You sure? It’s really good."

You met her gaze evenly, refusing to let the discomfort show. "I’m sure. Thanks, but no thanks."

They finally seemed to get the message, though they didn’t look happy about it. They stopped pressing, but the atmosphere around you had shifted. The two girls returned to their food, but there was a coldness in the air now, a silent tension that hung between you.

You pushed your plate away slightly, your appetite completely gone. You could feel the weight of their judgment, like they were watching you closely, waiting for you to slip up, to give in to their pressure.

But you wouldn’t. Not with them.

As you stood up, ready to make your escape from the uncomfortable situation, you couldn’t help but notice that the two girls had devoured every last bite of the food. Of course they did. They were practically setting you up for this.

You sighed, preparing to head back to your desk and pretend this entire ordeal never happened. But as you started to walk away, one of them called out, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Where are you going?" she asked, narrowing her eyes in mock confusion. "Pay for this all first. You were giving us a treat, right?"

You stopped dead in your tracks. A treat? Your stomach dropped as realization hit. There was no way you were treating them. You had barely enough money for your own lunch, let alone the absurd amount of food they had ordered.

You turned around, trying to keep your composure. "What? When did I say that? Look, I don’t even have—"

But before you could finish, the second girl interrupted, her tone more forceful now. "Oh, come on. You said yourself you’d treat us. Pay up." She smirked, like she knew exactly what was going through your mind.

No way.

The cafeteria suddenly felt much smaller. You could feel the eyes of everyone around you, the whispers, the judgment. You had no idea how many people were watching, but it felt like the entire place was waiting for you to make a fool of yourself.

Your heart raced, the beat echoing in your ears. Shit, shit, shit. You felt the blood rush to your face, the heat of embarrassment flooding your cheeks. You didn’t even have enough to cover your own meal, let alone all of this.

"Look, I—I can’t pay for this," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, but it cracked, betraying the panic you were feeling.

The first girl’s grin widened. "Really? Because you said you would. And now you’re backing out? Interesting."

The tension in the room was unbearable. It felt like everyone was just waiting for you to crack. The whispers grew louder, and you could feel the judgment pressing down on you. Your hands trembled at your sides.

You glanced around, desperately searching for an escape, but there was none. They had cornered you, and now you were the center of attention in the worst possible way.

The tension in the cafeteria was suffocating. Your face was burning, your stomach twisted in knots. Every pair of eyes seemed to be on you, waiting for you to somehow get out of this mess. You could feel the heat of their gazes, the quiet murmur of voices spreading like wildfire.

The second girl stepped closer, her grin widening. "I guess we’ll just have to tell everyone how generous you are, huh? Backing out of your word like this?"

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your words, but before you could say anything else, the sound of the door to the cafeteria opened, and a calm, deep voice broke through the tension.

"Is there a problem here?"

You turned instinctively toward the voice, and there, standing in the doorway with a quiet confidence, was Suguru Geto.

He was dressed in a sharp suit, his expression cool and composed, like he had just stepped out of a boardroom meeting. Suguru’s gaze shifted from you to the two girls, then back to you, noticing the way you were practically frozen in place, trapped in an impossible situation.

The two girls didn’t seem as confident now, glancing at Suguru with a mix of surprise and unease. Suguru stepped forward, his calm demeanor not shifting an inch.

"What’s going on here?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

The first girl opened her mouth to speak, but Suguru raised a hand to stop her, his voice steady but firm. "You’ve been harassing her for a while now. I’m guessing that’s not exactly ‘friendly,’ is it?"

They both fell silent, unsure how to respond. Suguru's presence alone seemed to have a calming effect, though it was clear they weren’t used to someone calling them out so directly.

Finally, Suguru turned to you, his expression softening slightly as he spoke. "Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it."

Without waiting for a reply, Suguru walked over to the counter, where he paid for the entire meal with a few smooth motions, the cashier offering a respectful nod.

Turning back to you, he gave a small smile. "You’re free to go now. I’ll handle the rest."

You stared at him for a moment, your heart still racing, but a small wave of relief washing over you. How did he know to step in?

The girls exchanged a quick, frustrated glance but said nothing. They were no longer in control of the situation. Suguru's intervention had completely shifted the power dynamic, and just like that, you were no longer the center of their mockery.

"Thank you," you muttered, feeling a bit of gratitude and confusion mix together.

Suguru gave a simple nod, his expression still composed. "No problem. You don’t have to thank me. Just... be careful with those two."

With that, he gave you a small, reassuring smile before turning to leave. As he walked away, the weight of the situation seemed to lift, and you let out a long, shaky breath.

You watched Suguru walk away, your heart still racing from the wave of relief that washed over you. The girls were no longer a threat, and you were free from the embarrassment, but something else lingered. Something you hadn’t expected.

As Suguru’s back disappeared through the cafeteria doors, you couldn’t help but feel this rush of gratitude and something else—something deeper, more unsettling. He was so nice. The way he had stepped in, so calm and effortless, his composed demeanor... He had a certain presence that made you feel safe, like no one could touch you as long as he was around.

But there was more than that. You couldn’t ignore the way your heart skipped a beat when he spoke to you, how his cool gaze seemed to hold your attention with every word.

You had barely known him for a moment, but that moment felt like it had lingered. The way he effortlessly took charge of the situation, the way he seemed to care without any hesitation—it made you want to know more.

His dislikes. His likes. Everything.

What was he like? What did he enjoy? You found yourself curious, almost desperate to find out. You wanted to ask him questions, to uncover every little detail about him, even if you had no idea where to start.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. Focus. You’re at work. You don’t have time to get caught up in this.

But it was hard to ignore the way your pulse quickened whenever you thought about him. Suguru Geto had just saved you from a world of embarrassment, and now all you could think about was how incredibly cool he was.

And, as much as you tried to push it away, a small part of you wondered just how much of that coolness was a façade—and how much was real.

As you made your way back to your desk, your mind kept circling back to the brief interaction with Suguru. The gratitude, the rush of emotions, and the way he had effortlessly handled the entire situation. It wasn’t just about saving you from the awkwardness—it was the way he made you feel seen, like you mattered in a place where you were still just a newcomer.

You sank into your chair, the familiar hum of the office surrounding you, but your thoughts were elsewhere. Suguru Geto. The name echoed in your mind. He was calm, composed, and kind. You didn’t know why, but you wanted to know more. Much more.

You took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts aside for the moment. Work wasn’t over, and there were plenty of things you still had to get done. But as you opened your laptop, your thoughts lingered on him, on how his presence had felt like an anchor in the chaos.

You shook your head, trying to get back to work. Focus. One thing at a time. But deep down, you knew this was only the beginning of something far more complicated than you could have imagined.

The day went on, but your mind stayed with Suguru. And for some reason, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that this was just the start of something far more intriguing than you’d ever anticipated.

A/n- I swear guys this is a Satoru×reader fic, Trust🙏🔥

🏷️- @katthekat1234

[julissart]

Attracting like a magnet 🧲

Thanks for voting for this pair, hope you like this doodle comic as much as me (if I told myself from 6 months ago this was a thing I wouldn't believe it)

Thanks for your comment @sampaisleyriot, maybe you will be interested to see this 👀

Since I don't have enough time and still limited writing ability, here's some headcanons of mine about this ship 🤭

Kidsopp headcanons

Things happen fast but at the same time feels kinda slow burn-ish in the few days the canon allowed it

Usopp fell first (oblivious to that info) but Kid fell harder (that man goes all out about everything)

Kid uses "wee lamb" for Usopp, at first just like a nickname but when the sniper narrates the story of Merry it gains a more deep meaning, later adding "my". Usopp decides to call him "rooi" when there's no tension and he feels silly, later becoming just "ro"

Kid sees a notebook where Usopp has designed some tattoos, Usopp ends up drawing on him almost everyday, Kid surprisingly lets him touch his scars and paint on them

Usopp put make-up on Kid just like himself in film red, Usopp gives him a pair of personal size headphones and Kid his older rounded goggles

Kid only teases Usopp because he likes the way the other reacts to everything, Usopp hopes this doesn't awake something on him (it will)

And for that Usopp thinks Kid is kinda of a player, but he's actually pretty loyal when he decides to be

First kiss was a drunk kiss, Usopp hit a dartboard with his eyes closed, Kid thought it was direct at him at first but then saw the bullseye, Usopp said he felt that it would be there at that moment (just casually using observation haki, no big deal, normal Usopp behavior right?)... After a few seconds Kid grabs him and smashes their lips together

Kid brings out of Usopp his bold and daring side, sometimes he not only feel braver but externalizes it more

Lightly jealous Luffy (not in the romantic way but in the "you're MY sniper" way)

Sanji and Zoro being overprotective after finding out he has been talking to Kid (oh boy he's in trouble)

My OP Fanart Masterlist 2025

[crescenthistory]

Omg Carina hi!!! Congrats on 2k!!! It’s 🧸 anon here (she/her) and you’re so cool for doing this event for us🫶🏻

Like you I’m also studying, last year of nursing if it matters lol, so I completely forgot to check if you answered my request and I just now saw that you did so I’m gonna go read it now! I’m so excited to get my Carina fix🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

I’ll add to the celebration - comment on “You occupy my every thought”? Don’t have anything specific I’m just such a sucker for sunshine/grumpy tropes hehe

Also if you’d like maybe comment on the 14k Remus fic? I forgot its name I’m so sorry but the way you wrote Remus made my heart swoon and it was the first ever fic I read of yours so it’s kind of sentimental too🙃

Side note thank you for sharing so much of your personal life with us it makes me personally feel really connected to the writer and it makes sense why your writing really is poetry🥰 again thank you!!

hi my darling! no, thank YOU for participating in my event<33 and for actually enjoying my yapping lmao, i appreciate you sm! last year of nursing is roughhhh, so feel free to just drop by whenever you're free. my blog will always be here for when you need it 🫂 now, i have already more or less commented on "you occupy my every thought" with these headcanons, but i would love to do the remus one!

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i will COMMENT on "It's Nice To Have A Friend" with remus lupin

carina's 2k celebration

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In this fic, you're Remus' childhood best friend, his favourite person on the planet, and your romance reads very much like two people who are perfectly intertwined and destined for each other

So, after the fic fades to black, I can't really see anything but an endgame fairytale ending

Remus writing home to Hope and Lyall, who have known you since you were a kid and befriended Remus despite his obvious differences:

Dear Mam and Tad,

This may not come as a surprise to you – as it seems it has not been for anyone but me – but if it does, I sincerely hope it is a pleasant one.

I am writing to let you know that Y/N and I's friendship has officially become something more and I am happy to call her my partner.

You remained attached at each other's side for the precious few months you had left at Hogwarts – this time without a spec of anxiety or guilt

I will say, it took a while for you to school all guilt out of Remus though, as his former guilt for daring fall in love with you occasionally transformed into guilt for "letting you love a halfbreed"

But you did what you did best – you kissed it away

You were far from above cradling Remus in your arms until he melted into you, whispering sweet nothings into his hairline

There was a lot of:

"I have loved you unequivocally more or less my whole life, cariad. I am not about to change that now."

"Would you love me any less if I changed? If I became a lycanthrope or a vampire or sick or poor?" "You know I wouldn't."

"Shhh, none of that. None of that, my sweet boy."

"You're just Remus to me."

Because of his particular situation, Remus had to become closer with certain members of Hogwarts staff than most other students would – particularly Pomfrey, Dumbledore and McGonagall

And I believe all of them would often share looks at how obvious the love blooming between these young students was

I have always had a particular moment in mind for when Pomfrey first noticed your connection in second year

It was the first time Remus got injured enough during a full moon to stay at the infirmary overnight, at a time where none of his dormmates knew

You, on the other hand...

Pomfrey opened the door to her office chambers right by the entrance to the infirmary at the frantic knocking. A sigh was already brewing on her lips at whatever piece of work must be waiting for her outside the wooden door this early.

She flung it open only to nearly hit your reddened, almost teary face.

"Madam Pomfrey," you squeaked in that youngin voice it seems all students spouted at that age. "Is Remus here?"

The concern was evident on your face, etched into your every furrow that were much deeper than a child should have. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that, Miss L/N," she said, not without sympathy. Patient confidentiality and all.

"Please," you whispered. "I know he's here, it was a full moon. Please can I go see him."

Unable to do anything else in the face of such youthful misery, and having heard in passing from Dumbledore before that "the Ravenclaw girl knows", she merely gestured in the direction of Remus' overnight bed.

A "thank you!" had barely made it past your lips before you walked away so quickly it could rival someone running – a loophole you had already found to the "no running in the halls" rule, surely.

Pomfrey followed to see you fling yourself to the floor beside Remus' bed, not even sparing the time to drag one of the nearby chairs closer to sit more comfortably. Your knees were on the cold floor, your hands scrambling to find his laying limp and bandaged on the white linen, but when you did, your touch turned almost painfully gentle.

"Rem? Remmy, cariad, it's me. Hi, hi, it's me." Your voice was soft, a gentle waking of the boy who should technically still be sleeping. It was clear you couldn't help yourself.

Remus' heavy eyelids fluttered open and the look in them once they found you, soft and at home, a stark contrast to how she found him the night before, struck Pomfrey right in the chest.

Oh, she had thought. This is going to be one of the lovestories I remember.

Thus, when she saw you two walking hand in hand as you passed the infirmary one of the last month of your 7th year, smiling widely and waving at her, she felt nothing short of contentment and warmth

Finally

Similarly with McGonagall and Dumbledore:

At the end of breakfast, there was nothing left to do but discreetly watch the students as they began preparing for the rest of their days, gaining an overview of what the dynamics were like at the moment and if they were all alright.

McGonagall's eyes were gliding over the Gryffindor table, not at all deterred by the splotch of blue that represented you in the midst of Potter and Co. She had grown more than used to you as an honorary member.

What did catch her attention, though, was when you got up and out of your seat, hoisting your bag over your shoulder to head off to a class you didn't share with the rest of them – right before you left, Remus caught your hand and pulled you down to him for a sweet kiss.

Not the forehead kisses she had seen before, not to the hand. No, he was smiling against your lips.

She arched an amused brow at the scene, glancing sideways to look at Dumbledore who was smiling into his plate.

"Yes," he said simply. "I saw."

She had to hide her smile behind her glass as she brought it up to drink. A silent toast.

All three of them would be invited to the wedding – which I don't think would be too far off after graduation

I imagine you got married the same year as Marlene and Dorcas; a big year of love for your friendgroup

Make no mistake, Sirius would be officiating it

This moment is definitely referenced in Remus' vows to you during the wedding:

“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.

Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”

“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.

"I suggested it already the first day we became official, and even that was too late – I have always been yours and it is my utmost honour to have you always be mine."

Not a single dry eye in the room

James would specifically be crying into Hope's arms

Which Sirius would laugh at until he was a few more drinks in, at which point he would do the same with Effie

(Lily took pictures of both instances with her muggle camera, and they were some of the first in the wedding album)

Should there be an Order of the Phoenix (with a happy ending for all), you and Remus would act as the parental couple beside James, Sirius and Lily

And if you eventually make Remus secure enough in himself and his lycanthropy that he would dare have some puppies? Well, the more the merrier with this lot

The cheesiest, loveliest happily ever after you could desire 🤍

[ohsweetflips]

so. here’s my thing w/ varric + his nicknames. my personal headcanon is that, for tale of the champion, they were all added retroactively to try to give the kirkwall crew some form of anonymity

(my main tale of the champion magnum opus headcanon is that what was actually published was a rewrite; there is an original manuscript that has never seen the light of day, perhaps not even read by anyone else but varric. i have no evidence for this other than added tragedy and my obsession with varric writing a raw, somber, deeply truthful recount of everything that happened in kirkwall and then realizing that no one else should be able to get their hands on this)

but, like, yes i love varric just giving out nicknames for everyone. and if we follow this headcanon, there is technically no reason for him to give everyone in the inquisition nicknames bc they are all essentially public figures to some degree and staying anonymous wouldn’t really be feasible. however. i like the idea of tale of the champion being a mostly-true recount with just enough details made vague or unclear to prompt skepticism.

which is all to say. in walks rook. and i know neve made the comment early-game about rook being after the chess piece and it being a tactical nickname. and ik bioware always defaults to a title (warden, inquisitor) over a last name probably so that there’s less voice-lines to juggle or things to code into the game idk

but like. in fiction. why give them a nickname. why have rook and not aldwir or thorne or de riva or etc etc etc

and i like to believe it’s because varric knew from the very beginning that, whoever he and lace found, they were going to be thrusting them full-force into a decade-long shitshow. and i really like to believe that varric knew that whoever they found wouldn’t be able to stay hidden for long; solas might not know who they are yet but, once they get involved with the inquisition, it’s only a matter of time. so “rook” became a last line of defense. a pseudo-title mentioned in letters, missives, and conversations with very few defining details; it would be clear that they found someone without actually saying who. people would know “rook” as a concept/idea first before being able to place the name to the face, and even then there’s still that lingering question of “well who is rook.” it’s not much, but it’s a final hope for anonymity, for a way to separate from this mess; it’s the least varric could give them.

[theecholegend]

My one and only loz OC - Marine

Here she is! The fit is inspired by the Hylian tunic which is simple but a look I always loved. I wasn't sure if I wanted the leather chest piece so I made one without it. Though, when comparing the two, I like the first (the ring gets tucked in her tunic btw)

Some doodles I compiled ^

Some more info on her below the cut, such as...

Who is Marine?

Her design choice and name

her character and personality

some facts and tidbits about her

Marine, is, well, my character! The main reason she was created was to be a sort of representative of me in things like video games or in the stories I write. I mean, I can't be the only one who wishes they lived in Hyrule, right? But her character has evolved from a "persona" to an actual OC. So her design, name, and interests were all chosen and based off of my personal preferences (Which is usually how creating an OC works anyways)

Ok, so, her name. Marine was chosen for multiple reasons. A couple of examples: my birth stone is Aquamarine (which is actually the stone on her ring) and the first time I used that name was for my Animal crossing new horizons character and it stuck with me ever since

And now onto her design!

It's rather... simple. Normal even. And that's exactly how I want it to be. I could have been more creative and given her a unique eye colour or hair colour or some extravagant style and I tried some things but none of them looked right

She's also supposed to represent me in some ways and I've always preferred darker colours and simpler apparel. And She lives in the forest and tries to blend in

It also fits into her personality, choosing practicality over looks. Marine couldn't care less about the way she dresses or how her hair looks (although that doesn't mean she has bad hygiene. We support health and cleanliness here!)

Also, if you take a close enough look, she has hazel eyes which is what I also have but I LOVE hazel eyes so she gets them too

And for her personality we have...

Sly, mischievous and sarcastic. She lives to have people pulling their hair out in absolute annoyance. In the forest where she usually resides Marine plays pranks on passing travellers

But being a pain in the butt aside, she's actually incredibly shy and awkward if she's out of her comfort zone. Which is really just the forest. Take her into a town and she quiets down immediately. Too many people. And she might've bitten someone before- but what else would you expect from someone who spends most of their time with animals?

She can be serious too. Rarely but it does happen. Usually only when something she considers "worth it" is happening. Like a deadly monster attack or some serious threat to herself or her home

Other information

There is one village she frequently visits that she's comfortable hanging around

most of the people there are annoyed with her but she's actually rather friendly when she likes someone so she does have a few friends

most people assume and strongly believe she lives under a bridge

she actually has a nice wooden cabin out in the woods

her best friend is a dog

more like a wolfdog actually

it frequently visits her but doesn't "belong" to anyone

her only truly prized possession is that ring she wears around her neck

it was given to her by someone special

She has hairs on the top of her head that refuse to smooth down no matter what

she has a lot of scars and she's proud of every one of them

The one on the bridge of her nose is her favourite since she's "always wanted a face scar to intimidate people"

her size is rather underwhelming though

but she could easily break someone's nose so maybe don't antagonize her

She likes to be artistic by either scribbling things in the dirt or carving something in a tree or constructing things with sticks, stones and anything else she can find

due to leaving random drawings or carvings, a rumour quickly spread that some sort of forest spirit resided in that particular forest

she's completely unaware she's the cause of this rumour

Marine is very skilled in combat and survival techniques

all of which she taught herself by either reading, experimenting or watching others

Has met the hero multiple times and serves as an annoying obstacle

If she had a part in a game she would probably have to be bribed or given something in return for access into a new area of the map

As for backstory, she... doesn't really have a definitive one. I created her character to be sort of... flexible, you could say. In my stories she's played multiple roles but I found that I enjoyed giving her a "chaotic forest gremlin" vibe the most

And in terms of Loz and where she takes place, I'm putting her in one of the canon Hyrule's instead of making my own. I feel like botw would fit but when I think of Hyrule as a kingdom I think of Alttp. Maybe a bit more of a realistic size but generally I imagine that particular place in the timeline and that Hyrule layout (now that I think about it it probably has to do with Legend being my favourite Link but who cares about the details)

If anyone wants to ask questions about her or something feel free to do so :) This probably won't be the only time I post something about her

Tagging @chibitacolord and @ahanarhorse since you both were interested

[beauty-and-passion]

TMA - Chapters 81-90: Worst is the new cool

I bet you thought I forgot about TMA, o ye of little faith.

Well, I didn’t. I just wanted to deal with smaller projects before returning to the big one. Also, real life happened and that delayed TMA even more. But now it’s here, I’m back and and I’m ready for act three.

I checked all previous comments, to remember what happened until now, so no need to waste any more time: let’s start.

<< Main Masterlist <- Previous post 

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MAG080.4 - Season 3 Trailer

Aaaah yes, cryptic as always.

At least, we can deduce a few things:

Daisy is working on this case and she probably wants to interrogate everyone to find out where Jon is, so she can throw him in jail

Jon escaped and is hiding somewhere

Elias is still an ass

The calliope will play a role in this series - and maybe the murderous dolls too

Well, can’t wait to find out more about the new “mini-boss” of this season and the fight that will ensue. And maybe we will learn more stuff in the meantime too :D

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MAG 81 - A Guest For Mister Spider

Let’s recap:

The dark entities also known as “supernatural shits” have the wonderful tendency of “claiming” humans. And the Eye claimed Jon. Geee, I wonder why: maybe it’s because he kept feeding it by recording statements all day?

The Spider’s actual name is the Web! Cool, love it.

The Web tried to claim Jon when he was a child and he escaped, only thanks to a bully who was tormenting him. Moral of the story: keep your bullies around and, as soon as you get the chance, feed them to some supernatural shit. Good lesson, I would’ve probably done the same. 

Will we ever find out the bully’s name? Was he the umpteenth Michael? In my mind, yes. He’s just another Michael.

I feel I can relate a bit with Jon’s grandma, picking up books without questioning what was age-appropriate or not. I did the same, when I was a child: I was too young to buy books by myself, and my parents didn’t have enough money to buy me all the books I wanted. So when I didn’t want to re-read the same books for the 200th time, I searched something else to read all around the house. And that’s how I ended up reading:

Harmony novels with a ton of sex and duels

The Late Mattia Pascal (still one of my favorites books)

L.A. Confidential

Edgar Allan Poe’s anthology

Dracula

The complete collection of Andersen’s tales

The Old Man and the Sea (still don’t like it)

Were they age-appropriate for a child? Probably not. But if a book is truly good, even a child can understand it. And I understood it. That’s why some of them are still in my library today, while all the teen books I read back then have been sold years ago.

Oh, who’s Georgie now? Jon’s sister? Friend? Fiancee? Bestie? Or did she introduce herself before and I forgot it?

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MAG 82 - The Eyewitnesses

There are a few things to say about this statement:

First: Martin is in love with Jon - at least a tiny bit. I mean:

Come on, Martin, tell us: you write in your diary J+M inside a heart all the time, don’t you?

Second: Tim is 200% done and all I want for my poor boy is to find a way to leave this place on his legs. But considering everyone leaves this place dead, I’m very scared for Tim.

Third (and I can’t believe I’m saying it): Elias is cool. He’s still the biggest motherfucker in the universe, but… the way he threatened Daisy. The way he used his Eye-powers. The way he goes “Sure, I know where Jon is, but I won’t tell you, because I have more than enough to make your life a living hell”.

He’s a madman and I should hate him, but he’s. So. Fucking. Cool.

I think I stan him - just a little bit. I still hate him for killing Leitner, but he’s an insane bitch and I stan insane bitches.

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MAG 83 - Drawing a Blank

Elias, you insane fucker: it was you who put this statement into Jon’s letterbox, wasn’t it?

I 100% believe it’s him, it can only be him. He’s trying to warn Jon. About what? Well, considering we’re starting a new season and we already had a small anticipation about clown dolls in the trailer, I suppose that the final boss of this season will be the murderous clown doll and its friends.

And yes, I know it’s insane that Jon is still recording statements, but I’m quite sure that’s the Eye messing with him and “forcing” him to read these things. Also, they’re the only way he can find out more about the Stranger and this whole thing - and you know, I’m very curious about this Stranger. Will it be the final boss of season 5?

(My bad, so Breekon & Hope deliveries are not evil shadowy things, but they’re probably evil clowny dolls. Or maybe they’re just two supernatural shits that love to work with these other fuckers.)

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MAG 84 - Possessive

Oh, Martin’s voice! Now what, is he getting trained to become the new Head Archivist? And who did it? I doubt it was Elias, since the motherfucker believes Jon will come back - and he will probably find a way to make it happen.

Speaking of the statement itself, it’s weird and creepy, but I’m not sure which specific supernatural shit is it about. I thought it was the meat for a second, then that it was about the Hive. But then, the mention of insects… idk, maybe it was just a random supernatural shit?

Since we’re talking about these statements, I love how the people involved always see the creepiest shit and then keep going with their plans. Adrian literally saw a cardboard mask of his friend’s face buried in the ground and, instead of running away and disappearing forever, he kept going.

And what he saw was… the only way I can describe it, is the same way I imagined it, so: “weird spa session with cardboard, insects and fluids”. Here, that’s it.

Melanie is back from India! And she got shot, but she’s still alive, thankfully.

And then… fucking Elias appears.

He introduces himself to Melanie, by saying that “he runs the Institute”. We all know it’s not true, Elias: you sat on your lazy ass for two entire seasons and only now you’re actually doing something.

So, what does he do, to prove he’s actually working? He hires Melanie. Just like that. And just because she had a YouTube channel about the supernatural.

Elias is the best boss ever: he picks the first rando he sees around who has a minimum of knowledge about the supernatural and hires them on the spot. But, as he said to Martin:

Which can also be translated as: "Don’t worry, Martin, I know you lied on your CV because I am a supernatural shit. Also, yes, I know Jon will come back. Have I made it clear enough I am a supernatural shit?"

Elias aside, I cannot believe my naive hope was fulfilled. I mean, I asked for Melanie and Jon to have a mentor/protegè kind of relationship. But I also clarified that I didn’t want her to be in danger! Melanie does not deserve any shit, so I really, really hope she will be alright.

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MAG 85 - Upon the Stair

Oooh, another trippy statement! Those are my favorites, hands down. I love the constant switch between being/not being, walking up the stairs and not walking but moving faster. The man who doesn’t exist, but exists. And the part about the parents asking their own son where he is, his father walking up the stairs and dying on his chair, the mother with the bloodied napkin, how they both get up and leave… that’s so insane, I love it!

But instead of just sitting back and appreciating the nonsense like me, Jon is trying to understand. Is this statement about Michael? The Spiral idea seems to work, but I thought Michael was more expert in corridors, rather than stairs. And yes, the “Nowhere Man” isn’t a Michael thing. It reminds me of the book Leitner used to hide himself, A Disappearance: maybe this is another supernatural shit.

LISTEN I WAS JUST GUESSING, WHY ARE MY GUESSES BECOMING REAL.

So I was right, when I said that these supernatural shit are searching for hosts and replacing the humans - a bit like the Dark tried to do with the child on MAG 73.

When the supernatural entities become the host, the humans change. This proves even more that Elias is the Eye’s host, because he went from stoner to baddest bitch of all the land.

I was right about Jon too, when I said he was connecting too much with the Eye and was too obsessed with these statements.

Now that I think about the Eye and remember MAG 73… if Elias is the Eye, then why is the Eye connecting with Jon too? Just to make him a minion? Or to replace Elias? But why replace Elias, when he’s clearly showing he’s the boss of all bitches? Mmmmh, maybe the Eye just needs an additional pair of eyes and it likes Jon’s very much.

Okay, so Georgie isn’t Jon’s fiancee, nor his sister, but a friend. And she knows Melanie! I’m pretty sure Melanie will tell her about the new job she got randomly and how weird her co-workers are, from the big guy who is longing for his old boss, to the hot one who is 200% done with everything, to the head of the place who is a huge bitch.

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MAG 86 - Tucked In

“Tim Stoker. Archival assistant... Archival prisoner at the Magnus Institute.”

I’ve never seen a man more done than Tim. He literally can’t take it anymore. I’m scared to see the moment when he will finally snap and either kill everyone and/or himself.

My poor Melanie, of course thinks her co-workers are weird: she doesn’t know all the shit they went through.

The statement itself is fine. Again, I am not really sure what supernatural shit is it about, but I suppose it’s an “appendix” of the Dark or similar. Anyway, I really like how it plays on the universally known idea that hiding under your blanket means the monsters can’t touch you. Just like planned, the monster cannot touch Benjamin either, he’s safe. And then, the twist: “The blanket never did anything.”. The monster was just playing with him. Super creepy, super scary, loved it.

My dear Melanie, I love how lost she is. She’s literally this, all the time:

She just got hired and her coworkers are done, there is creepy shit everywhere, she’s left recording statements by herself and doesn’t know where to start. She needs to be protected at all costs <3

A Melanie-Jon cooperation! Yes! He will tell her everything! And she will help him! I’m very hyped about this, can’t wait to see what it will lead to!

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MAG 87 - The Uncanny Valley

Considering this is another statement centered around puppets (in this case, puppets cutting human heads - to take out the faces, I suppose), it seems like puppets are not just the mini-boss of this season, but a kinda important piece of the Unknowing.

I was right when I said the Unknowing is an event! Not!Sasha talked about it as if it was another name for the Stranger but no, it’s really an event that should happen and the Stranger is involved! And, according to Gertrude, there’s not just them, but also creepy puppets dancing while wearing human faces. Lovely.

Speaking of Gertrude, how can she know that Jude Perry, Agnes and all the Fire Gang are members of The Lightless Flame, if Jon made up that name?

It’s because of time shenanigans Attack on Titan style

TMA’s author made a teeny tiny mistake

I missed something or misunderstood it

If it’s the time shenanigans, I’m gonna scream.

Still about Gertrude, there is this sentence I’m trying to better understand:

“It interests me that Jude Perry would be involved. I was unaware that The Lightless Flame had had any contact with the Stranger’s ilk, but I suppose it makes sense that it would be a possible ally to the Devastation, especially since their own plans have so recently, erm, gone up in flames.”

So… who is the Devastation? Is it the Lightless Flame? Are they the same thing? If that’s so, then I suppose that the Stranger’s gang includes:

Creepy puppets/clowns

The Dark and its Not-Things

The Devastation and its Lightless Flame cult

Orsinov and the Circus of the Other

Also, there’s the weird mention about skin. What does Jon mean? I thought Orsinov/puppets and everyone else were searching for human skin to wear. Did I get it wrong? Did Gertrude mean something else?

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MAG 88 - Dig

Hello, umpteenth Leitner book. Of what kind of supernatural shit are you the essence? The Dig?

I really like how we can follow the escalation of the book’s influence on Mr. MacMillan:

First, we see him reading four pages. Not the entire book, just four. And yet, they were enough for him to take the book and become obsessed with digging. And we know it, thanks to two small details:

when the police arrive, he already dug the body

when he leaves he thinks the police are angry at him, because he “had robbed them of their opportunity to dig.”

That’s GREAT show don’t tell, loved it so so much.

And the more the statement progresses, the more we see how this need grows (i.e. the weird dreams about digging) and how unhinged it becomes. Until we reach that small gem that is:

“A bookseller I asked about it pointed me towards you and yours, before I dug into him, and so here I came.”

I ADORE when creepy shit is thrown like that, almost without care. It’s more effective than a big preparation, it takes you by surprise and it’s a lot more chilling. Love it.

My boy Martin. The passive-aggressiveness is strong in this man. I mean:

when Basira asks him about Daisy, he protests because everyone sees him as the doorman of the Institute

when Basira makes a teeny tiny compliment to Jon, he immediately panics and fears she loves him

when she explains that no, she doesn’t love him, she just thinks he’s nice and funny, Martin replies that oh don’t worry, Daisy will find him and you will have your chance to hear all of these jokes he makes that I can’t hear… oh, sorry, I forgot you’re not working with the police anymore. Bitch.

Yes, he probably thought “Bitch” too. Let’s not forget this is the guy who found a way to kill worms with a corkscrew. He’s like the meme:

Also: what does Martin mean, when he says “I don’t actually think he...”? He what? Is he implying Jon is gay? Oh my gosh, these two will end up together. And if they won’t, they will have the weirdest, strongest sexual tension ever. I can feel it.

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MAG 89 - Twice as Bright

We can easily rename this episode: “Jon gets dissed by Jude and it burns. Pun intended”.

Just like every woman in this series, Jude also woke up and chose violence. In this case, her violence means “Let’s set stuff on fire”. In the span of one episode, she:

repeatedly tells Jon he’s an idiot

repeatedly threatens Jon to burn him

in the end, she manages to burn him because she’s offended she told him her story

dissed the Eye, by saying “It does nothing aside from knowing stuff, like any introvert who loves to read” So basically like me

disses the Eye’s choice, by saying Jon has been a shitty one

Speaking of the Eye, when Jude told Jon it “watches and knows, sitting bulbous and comfortable in the ignorance of infinite knowledge”, it made me think of Azathoth blaspheming and bubbling on its “throne at the center of all infinity”. Maybe it’s because they both have eyes, maybe it’s because they’re both eldritch creatures, maybe because they’re both gods. No idea, but the vibes are immaculate.

So, while the Eye simply likes to watch, the Desolation burns everything. Basically a peeping Tom and a pyromaniac. Great.

Jude is keeping Jon alive, just to do a favor to Elias? See, see that this man is involved with the Eye? See that I’m right, when I say that he’s the Eye or whatever? People involved with other gods know him, that’s just another proof he’s a servant (if not part) of the Eye.

Also consider: Jude said the Eye does nothing, just sits on its godly, eldritch ass. And who else sits on his own bitchy, killer ass 24/7?

Jude tells us something very interesting about the different levels of “connection” with the god:

You can work for it and still be human, while doing job that will please it

You can “complete your transformation” aka kill yourself and become a monster - but also closer to your god

And since she chose the second route, she suggests Jon to do the same. “Feed it, fearlessly and without hesitation, or it will feed on you.”: Great piece of advice, I’m not scared for Jon’s life now, nope nope.

He doesn’t know how to feed it? Listen Jon, I’m not an expert in supernatural shits either, but I suggest to keep doing what you did until now: if Mr. Eye likes knowing stuff, give it more stuff. if you keep feeding it statements, that should keep it quiet, right? Right?

Jude gave us another Michael! Of course! We didn’t have enough Michaels!

Oh my bad, this one is a Michael we already got: Michael Crew. The Vast or whatever! And he hangs out with the Fairchilds! Make sense: if Simon Fairchild is the Grandfather of the Vast, of course he hangs out with his grandson.

Does that mean we will see him again? This weird old guy who loves to wake up and choose violence? And will we meet Michael the 2nd? I hope we will see them soon.

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MAG 90 - Body Builder

We can rename this statement too and we can rename it “Tim is trying really really hard to get fired”.

He literally took a flight and went to Malaysia. He listened to me and ran away. For once, someone in a series listen to me and run. And yet, Tim got so sick, he had to come back.

Fuck you, Elias, I know it’s your fault.

But hey: Elias might be a bitch, but he’s also a kind, understanding boss. And he accepts that a worker takes a goddamn flight to run away and came back only because he was sick. It happens every time, right? “Idiosyncrasies”, he calls them.

… look, just kill Tim and end his suffering. He cannot leave, hates the place, hates everyone, is very depressed. Let him rest, please. He doesn’t deserve all of this.

And while Tim grows a flashing sign on his forehead that says “DEAD”, Martin keeps being ignored. Poor Martin, at least when Jon treated him like shit, he acknowledged his existence. Now everyone ignores him.

Speaking of the statement, Jared is back again! This time, he’s running a gym, in which he can… turn people into the bodies they want, with a little “cut and sew”? After all, why have a head, when you can have a big smile on your torso?

Lovely place, seems fun, sorry if I can’t come but I left a pot on the stove and must go.

_______________________________

In conclusion

Phew, a lot of things happened here! Jon is doing his own research among the supernatural shits, Elias is doing something for once in his life and he’s showing all the coolness (and the bitchness) he hid until now, Martin is the Institute’s new doorman, Melanie still has no idea of how deep the shit she’s in is and Tim is trying his best to get fired or die in the process.

Also, the Eye is apparently just a chill god that likes to watch stuff, while the Stranger and its acolytes are getting ready for the Unknowing. Will the Stranger be the final boss of the series? Or will we just get rid of its creepy puppets and call it a day? No idea, but I’m thrilled to find out what will happen.

For now, a conversation with Michael Crew has been promised, so I can’t wait to read that and find out more. So… let’s see each other very soon, I suppose <3

-> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

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[pseudophan]

wait i'm new here and i'm curious, if you're okay talking about it what happened before in the uk / why did you move back?

longass story but i've complained about this whole ordeal so much on here i think if i do the whole thing again people will get mad at me like omg we get it. anyway here it is again:

i moved to england (milton keynes specifically which all brits find very funny) with my mum in 2016 to go to high school because norway requires you to do six thousand subjects even if you "specialise" in something and i just did not have that in me. every subject combined with an instant fail if you miss more than like three lessons? absolutely the fuck not. in mk i did a level 3 creative media btec which is known as a bit of a joke because it won't make you kill yourself as much as a-levels, but lowkey i enjoyed it SO much. i've heard media btecs are very hit or miss depending on your tutors but mine were really good! half my class was only there because they flunked out of their a-levels and wanted something easy, but by like week two i'd say most of them were really into it

after college i started a film and tv production course at uni in london, none of the fancy unis because rip my grades lmao but it was a good time. year one went alright, but then when i applied for a loan for the second year months went by and i didn't hear anything until literally DECEMBER, halfway through the year, when they got back to me and were like oh sorry you don't qualify for the loan. oh and we're also taking back the money you got for the first year, so now you're in immediate debt to us for that and to the uni directly for the months you just did where we just couldn't be bothered to tell you you didn't qualify for any funding. hope this helps!

basically because i'd already lived in the uk for a couple of years before university i could apply as an english student rather than an international one, which is much cheaper so that was great. i also, IN THEORY, qualified for a loan through the student loans company, which is, IN THEORY, much easier and less annoying than the norwegian one because you don't start paying it back right away, you can wait until you're actually making x amount of money. all good. the problem was that the only reason we could afford to just fuck off and move to england in the first place was that my mum got to keep her norwegian job and work from home, meaning we weren't sure if i DID actually qualify for the loan because the way she was paying taxes was like kind of confusing. i still don't know exactly how it works, but i guess you pay it all to one country and then they split it? cause you're effectively paying taxes to both norway and the uk but you're not supposed to have to pay More so idk. who knows. not me. but yeah so we called them Multiple times to ask if i was in fact eligible for a loan and every time they were like yeah it's no problem. my bad for not getting it in writing by the way, always do that. then like i said they fully accepted my loan for the first year after looking through all our documents so clearly it WAS in fact fine, or at least enough people working there believed it was.

i have no idea what actually happened with the second year application, or which one got evaluated wrong. might have been the first one, might be the second, i'll probably never know. the real kicker though is that if they just got back to me earlier i could have gotten a norwegian loan and it would probably be fine, but because they were months late i only had like two weeks until the application deadline for the norwegian one and because the whole situation was so complicated and confusing, and i was struggling really hard with any paperwork or essays because of my super cool then-still-undiagnosed adhd, i just didn't have it in me to fight it. i was like whatever, guess i have to just drop out. didn't actually have to drop out, they suspended me for unpaid fees. i kept going until they turned off my key card though and banned me from campus lol, my tutors were just like eh keep showing up until it doesn't work anymore, it's not like they can suspend you out any more 😭

fuck knows what my plan was after dropping out. in my head i was like, well i can probably get a shitty job for a bit and yeah it probably won't go very well but it's not like i've tried, who knows! and then uhhhh covid happened LMFAO, so nevermind that shit! turns out getting a job in covid lockdown london is Difficult. my mum moved back in the middle of covid and a few months later i had to follow and now half a decade later here we are </3

[confused-rat]

Lily answering someone asking how she feels about "belive all victims" with essentially saying well no one believes me because they hate me really annoyed me.

The thing is I do believe her about being SAd by her teacher. I believe it because she doesn't mention it hardly at all or use it as a gotcha or constantly reference it in her writing. She doesn't talk about in the shallow way she does with what she claims Courtney did to her. The few times she has talked about, it's not brought up with the intent to simply call said abuser a freak or insult them.

I don't believe her about Courtney because she used other tactics to get people to ignore Courtney before settling on using an uno reverse. Probably doing so because then she can shame the people who find the sudden story odd, due to leftists (her core audience now) using this phrase as a rallying call.

Me not believing her about Courtney has nothing to do with disliking her. It has to do with how she claimed it out of nowhere when she was under more scrutiny. It has to do with how easily she talks about it, awnsering asks casually and clearly using them as an excuse to lob childish insults at Courtney, including being really ableist. It is because she's turned around and made overly affectionate siblings her new personality, and brought it up in every video as if to remind people.

Meanwhile, again, she never brings up the abuse of her teacher (except as an excuse to blame Courtney for it somehow). Because that was traumatic for her and it does make her uncomfortable to talk about. She doesn't want that to be her brand. She's not writing good teacher and student relationships to heal her trauma like she claims she's doing with her resent sibling stories.

But she has to claim people don't belive her because they hate her instead of actually accepting that people don't belive her because she's essentially turned her claimed abuse into a marketing campaign for herself, while also using petty insults, and finding any excuse to talk about incest.

My reasoning for not believing Lily’s accusations against Courtney, besides her obvious inconsistencies, is because she’s made this same claim several times before.

When she and Lizzy first broke up, she was quick to accuse the other of swatting her, despite it being clear if anyone had been called—it would’ve been for a genuine welfare check because Lily spent most the night and morning before posting suicide baiting posts to tumblr. Then she claimed said officers assaulted her, as well as adding that Lizzy herself raped her during their relationship.

And still, those are not the only times Lily has claimed to be assaulted!

If all this is true, Jesus fucking Christ, that’s a lot for any one person—but the problem is, I know Lily is a liar! I can’t trust her word for any of these accounts because I know she lies and embellishes and changes her stories on a dime with no rhyme or reason!

She lied about having cancer. Cancer. Literally, what did she expect?

[shefollowedthestars]

welcome to new york - headcanons for kate bishop showing you around nyc 🗽˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚

warnings: none that i can think of atm

notes: this is the first time writing something and posting it in...forever. like i think years atp so pls be mindful of that while reading lol. but i am 100% open to any feedback or constructive critiscm as i want to improve my writing again!! anyways i hope you enjoy bc kate is the literal loml and this came to me in a dream.

you two would definitely start the day at a nice brunch place. brunch instead of breakfast because waking up a bit late when the sun is already shining through the windows sounds like a perfect, warm start to the day

anyways. you would go to her favourite brunch place and share a stack of pancakes with fruit, whipped cream and maple syrup. the ultimate pancake stack, as kate called it

the first thing you’d do in the morning is go on a bike ride through central park

even though cycling isn’t the sport kate’s the best at, she would definitely enjoy leisurely biking with you through the park and seeing the green trees and all the flowers in bloom

plus, she would be making horrible jokes the whole time to try impress you. “how do you know flowers are capable of kissing? they have tulips!” they were stupid, but her attempts made you grin, her rambly and silly nature was adorable 

ALSO when you guys were walking around you would beg her to go into every single photobooth and you eventually used those photos to make a cute scrapbook later on

moving on though, the next activity (and kate’s favourite) was larping ofc

you were a bit skeptical of it at first, as you stared at the costumes - it wasn’t really your thing, but kate insisted that it would be fun

she then went on a rant of which armour you should choose. “okay, so i think you should go with the one to the left of the one grills just took, because it’s a, very easy to put on and b, it is definitely the most comfortable. but, to be honest all of them are comfortable, but like, yeah, i’d say that’s the best.” and you knew then that whether larping was your thing or not, you’d enjoy doing it with her because - well, it was her. god, was she the best.

and it ended up being your thing nonetheless! for dinner, she took you to her mom’s penthouse (eleanor happened to be away on vacation) and made you the most delicious pasta. it was a chicken penne pasta that you both shared along with a slice of cake (that kate 100% did not make, because while she can cook she can not bake). 

and her bad jokes continued over dinner "i developed a pasta addiction. i spent my life savings on pasta, but it was worth every penne." that one you thought was actually great and it made you laugh. and when i say it made you laugh, i mean it made you laugh the most genuine laugh ever and kate was entranced. that girl is so in love with you, it’s actually crazyyy

clint would agree

but. you two ended the night snuggled up on the couch, asleep with a movie in the background and it was literally perfect. 

like picture this - the vague sounds of people talking in an old movie, the hum of the refrigerator, the sounds of you two breathing lightly, the pizza dog’s endearing snores and the sound of rain pattering against the large window glass

doesn’t that sound so amazing?? plus, the faint smell of vanilla cake accompanied with kate’s sandalwood perfume. 

anyways - you had the best day with kate and you can’t believe that this is the life you get to live. you feel like the luckiest person on planet earth. 

oh how i wish this was real. life is not fair kate bishop needs to be my gf. anyways again i hope you liked it and have a wonderful day <3

[scheherazades-vigil]

JayVik existing or not in the show was never my concern so much as who cares (and was reflected in me specifically commenting about who cares enough to hate on JayVik, obv), but I said that bc Jayce disability was lipservice and disabled characters always end up doomed AND beholden to the narrative. I barely consider S2 canon, but you do you. It's also ableist bc like 2/3 of the plot involving Viktor/them revolves around FIXING DISABILITIES?! And you're beautiful bc cancer hahahahaha kill me

Jesus let the disabled person have an opinion about disability for once. Have yours, but don't invalidate mine or you deserve yours to be

I don't think you understand queerbait in at least one of its used definitions (language, shockingly, evolves and, in this case, has done so) but gg nitpicking what queerbait is ig :/ imo it is bc the show USES the draw of (often) MLM/bi relationships to increase revenue and ABSOLUTELY intentionally plays fanservice but then swaps out at the end to be like BUT NO HOMO LOL. I may not have thought half these things so deeply if it weren't Linke doing so much bad lifting, though. I am very serious when I say that he hits hella homophobic. That was a LOT of it and thinking this jerk wrote the CaitVi sex scene as anything BUT male gaze... k

If you liked it fine? I hated it

I think sex could've come at almost any time and not been gross. This WAS gross. Don't agree, k, you go fuck your gf in a grimy jail cell like the one you spent 7 years in and call it rep, peeps, idc. I really don't believe in all this LULZMAGICINSTAHEALING power of love s2 stuff like Jinx also gets, but ig you do and that's cool

Oh I never said it wasn't queer btw, what the hell is wrong with you people? Twist my words any more and they'd make it to the Olympics

I'm actually done responding probs tho bc you weirdo ship fuckers are dumb. I say don't hate ships, hate bad writing, and here y'all come with the OMG THEY WANT THE HOT GUYS TO FUCK AND ARE LESBOPHOBIC specifically bc I didn't like a scene or y'all hating a ship

I never said I did or didn't want JayVik canonized by the fucking way, I just called it as I saw it... QB bc chicks'll dig it or whatever, God Internet randos piss me off

I'm not reading all your narrow-minded bullshit, but ftr I'm duh v pro WLW, I may as well call you queerphobic for disagreeing with me (so rancid and vapid). Can you comprehend the stupidity and bias of these baseless accusations yet? Grats on not knowing shit about me or my values tho such that you must invent them. Speaking at I can't be arsed to recall your names so RB #1 mostly ftr.

I don't know how anyone could like the ships as they are represented in the show? Genuinely? How can, I repeat, you like bad writing? Like CaitVi got dragged through the mud making Cait some war crime dictator classist rich dick in a mansion sugga momma (istg if you disagree on the first part bc she has a nice ass or Runeterra doesn't have a Geneva Convention or something...), Maddie got a rando character assassination as a twist and was only there as a junior officer CaitVi obstacle anyway, which is tragic but I digress, Jayce killed Viktor on what I assume is Red Bull and himbo energy bc what kinda takeaway was that from hexcorized AU-land? Meljay disappears out of nowhere for some reason, no resolution. Timebomb is only (shown as) canon in a waste of time AU episode you couldn't even get away with in English 101, like, are y'all fr?

Fighting me so hard for legit no reason isn't the hot take you think it is but go off or whatever, see I, too, can be a cool kid

But fr can't we just unite in our disappointment in S2 instead of whatever the fuck this is. Y'all are why we can't have nice writing

At least I'm caring less about you as time passes but. The writing, bro...

Wait, why are people saying JayVik is this evil giant fanservice thing? If anything it was stupid queerbait! I like the ship but I felt like the whole thing was a big stupid mush of poor writing, outright ableism, and altogether just slop that made no sense. I didn't care about the alleged shipping, like who the hell would even NOTICE or care at that point? Like the writing belongs in the trash so I couldn't care less, and I'll just go to AO3, thanks.

The mage should've been Ryze. Or anything else.

Conversely, Vi going down on her abuser (and murderer of her people)... I literally don't know what to think and have decided for my sanity not to care. I assume it's male gaze fetishism, which is why there's no gay or bi ships. Men can't take that. Too yucky for them.

Meh sorry. I got grossed out by the weird accusations. Like who cares how many ships there are or who ships them? Are ship wars literally more important to you than the show?

[novelmonger]

Hiya! It's Windmill from Discord! Saw the prompt meme - could you do Obi-Wan and Qui-Gonn with "I love you. You know that, right?" If you're up for it! Thanks <3

Hi Windmill!

Let Me Count the Ways ask game

(Note that this follows the canon of the Jedi Apprentice books - set right after #8, The Day of Reckoning - but I tried to make it still understandable for those who haven't read them.)

Obi-Wan had already powered down the lights in his room in the Temple and lain down on his sleep-couch when someone knocked on his door. He'd felt a pulse in the Force a moment before, and instantly knew the person on the other side of the door was Qui-Gon.

Strange. They'd seen each other not long ago, for a time of meditation in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. And they were due for a training exercise at 0600.

Slowly, Obi-Wan sat up, pushing aside his blanket. “Enter,” he said, reaching over to turn on a lamp.

The door slid open and Qui-Gon stepped inside. “I apologize for disturbing your rest,” he said stiffly.

Obi-Wan shook his head, shifting to sit cross-legged on top of his sleep-couch. “I wasn't asleep.”

Qui-Gon nodded, then paced back and forth across the small space, hands clasped behind his back. He'd left his cloak behind, Obi-Wan noticed, and his dark hair fell loose about his shoulders. It was as though he'd been in the process of turning in for the night, then realized he'd forgotten something and come directly here.

Tentatively, Obi-Wan quested out towards him in the Force. Their bond had been damaged, fractured, since everything that had happened on Melida/Daan. They were in the process of mending it, and their unofficial mission together on Telos had taken them a good distance down that path, but Obi-Wan knew it would still take a long time before they could restore the deep trust that had once existed between them.

Qui-Gon paused, gazing down at the workbench where Obi-Wan had left his lightsaber after cleaning it moments ago. As he stood there, an answering thread in the Force touched Obi-Wan's, like fingertips brushing against each other. Obi-Wan was surprised at how hesitant it felt as well.

“Tahl reminded me today,” Qui-Gon said slowly, absently straightening the tools on the workbench, “that we cannot simply return to the way things once were. And nor should we. We are not the same as when we first met.”

“Master Yoda said something similar to me,” Obi-Wan said with a wry smile. “'Expect not to tread the same path twice, for a path through sand it is, washed away by the tide.'”

Qui-Gon snorted, but he looked amused rather than annoyed. “And Tahl spoke to me of pottery. We're being conspired against by poets.”

Obi-Wan grinned, just as Qui-Gon glanced up with a twinkle in his eye. Their gazes connected for only a moment, but it was one of those moments Obi-Wan had learned to prize above all else in recent days. It was a moment that reassured him that, however else their relationship might change going forward, the bond between them was still intact.

After a moment of silence, Qui-Gon left the workbench and sat down at the foot of the sleep-couch. There was a deliberate quality to his movements, as though he were about to say something of vital importance. Obi-Wan found himself straightening attentively. This was why Qui-Gon was here.

“Tahl also counseled me to be more open with you, Obi-Wan. Too often, I fall into the trap of thinking that, because I can see a path forward, you will also see it and agree with me.” He shook his head. “It is dangerous when a master forgets that his apprentice is also a being with wisdom to contribute.”

“But I was wrong!” Obi-Wan blurted out, his hands curling into fists on his knees as shame pooled in his gut—just as it did every time he thought of that day. “I was wrong to...to defy you, and steal the ship, and....”

“Yes.” Qui-Gon reached out a hand, settling it on Obi-Wan's shoulder. “You were wrong. And so was I, Padawan. I was the one who put you in a position where you felt such actions were necessary. But perhaps, had we taken the time to communicate more openly...some of that could have been prevented. You are my apprentice, Obi-Wan. Not my servant. We are meant to be a team.”

The warm, comforting weight of Qui-Gon's hand on his shoulder somehow made the shame break apart and fade away into nothing, like mist on a warm morning. Obi-Wan looked into those wise blue eyes, full of the esteem and respect he'd been afraid he would never see again. So unlike that day on Melida/Daan when they had turned icy and forbidding, as Qui-Gon had held out his hand for Obi-Wan to give up his lightsaber.

Confusion. Betrayal. Outrage. That was what they'd both been feeling, on the day their bond had shattered. Neither of them had been able to understand the other's decisions, and neither had been willing to explain or ask further questions. They had each known they were right, and the very thought that the one closest to them could possibly disagree was unfathomable.

And that had made their relationship brittle, too easily broken. Maybe this was what Qui-Gon had been talking about, when he'd said on Telos that he looked forward to their next disagreement. If they argued, that meant they both knew they weren't of the same mind, and they could work together towards a solution. It didn't have to mean they would abandon each other again.

“I'll try to live up to that,” Obi-Wan said quietly, as Qui-Gon's hand slipped from his shoulder. “I want to earn your trust again. I want to be worthy of it.”

Qui-Gon sat quietly for a moment, then got to his feet, his back to Obi-Wan. At first, Obi-Wan didn't think he would say anything, but finally he said, in the softest voice he'd ever heard from him, “I love you, Obi-Wan. You know that, right?”

Obi-Wan stared at him. “I...yes. Yes, I know.”

It wasn't exactly that Jedi didn't speak of love. Attachment was forbidden, but the entire Order was built on a foundation of love—the selfless kind of love that led to thousands of beings devoting their entire lives to aiding strangers across the galaxy. And of course every Jedi had special affection for their closest friends and teachers, not to mention the deeper-than-blood bond between Master and Padawan.

But Qui-Gon had never been one to speak openly of his feelings. His first thought was always for the mission, or for a lesson to pass on to Obi-Wan. He was foremost a Jedi Knight, and secondly a teacher—as it should be. But underneath it all, he was still a man. A man with emotions and cares and, yes, affections too.

Of all people, Obi-Wan shouldn't have been surprised to see evidence of that. He had seen evidence of that, plenty of times before. But it was still strange to hear Qui-Gon speak of it so bluntly.

Qui-Gon was almost at the door by the time Obi-Wan realized he was leaving. Apparently, he'd said what he'd come here to say. “Master, wait!” Obi-Wan sprang to his feet.

Pausing with his hand on the door, Qui-Gon looked over his shoulder.

Nervously, Obi-Wan swallowed hard. He'd never said this to anyone, but when he instinctively reached out to the Force, it rang with the chimes of a hundred golden bells in his heart, and he knew it was the right thing to say. “I love you too, Qui-Gon. I always have. Even then.”

Even when he was angry and hurt. Even when they were shouting at each other. Even when Qui-Gon left him on a war-torn planet. Even when their connection in the Force frayed and snapped, and it seemed pointless to hope they could regain even a fraction of what they'd once had.

Though Qui-Gon didn't move, it felt to Obi-Wan as if he had reached out his hand and grasped his. The Force wrapped around both of them like a warm blanket, and Obi-Wan found himself aware of Qui-Gon's breathing and heartbeat, in a way that normally didn't happen except sometimes in the heat of battle, when all of their focus centered on their movements synchronizing and complementing each other.

For a moment, Obi-Wan thought he caught a glimpse of the future. All of his worries about whether they could mend the rift between them faded away, because he knew they would be together. Perhaps not always—eventually, Obi-Wan would grow up and leave Qui-Gon's side. One day, he would become a Jedi Knight. One day, he would take on a Padawan of his own.

But nothing would come between them like this again. Not really.

“Yes, my Padawan,” Qui-Gon murmured, turning once more to the door. “I know.”