#despite there being no evidence to back it up

[harrysfolklore]

i’ve always loved the piastri sis lore because the sibling dynamic is so healthy but just to switch it up a little bit in the tiny verstappen!sis universe i can imagine her skipping out on the WDC celebrations with max and be with charles instead and max is a little mad at her at qatar until kelly knocks sense into him 🥰

verstappen!sister was one of the first f1 fics i ever posted 🥺🥺 its kinda heartwarming that you guys still remember it and want to read more about them! it was nice to take a dip into that little world agai, i hope you like this!

READ VERSTAPPEN!YN HERE

The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred through as you rushed through the paddock, your heart torn between two directions. Behind you, the thunderous celebration at Red Bull's garage continued – your brother Max had just sealed his fourth world championship. Any other day, you'd be right there, spraying champagne and screaming until your voice gave out.

But right now, all you could think about was Charles.

You found him in the Ferrari cooldown room, still in his race suit, head in his hands. He looked up when you entered, those green eyes stormy with frustration.

"Mon coeur," he whispered, and despite his evident pain, his lips curved into a small smile at the sight of you. "You're here."

You crossed the room quickly, wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face in your neck, breathing deeply. "Of course I'm here. Always."

"I had it," he mumbled against your skin. "I had the pace, the position... everything. Then they called me in at the worst possible moment—" His voice cracked slightly.

You ran your fingers through his hair soothingly. "I know, baby. I watched the whole thing."

Charles pulled back slightly, cupping your face with both hands. "You should be celebrating with Max, though. It's his championship. I don't want to take you away from that."

"You're not taking me anywhere," you said firmly, pressing your forehead to his. "I choose to be here."

He kissed you softly, gratefully. "Je t'aime. What did I do to deserve you?"

"Existed," you smiled against his lips. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

As you were leaving the cooldown room, hand in hand with Charles, you nearly collided with Max in the corridor. Your brother was still in his race suit, championship cap askew, smelling of champagne and victory.

"YN?" His voice was smaller than usual. "Where were you? Everyone was asking... we were all celebrating and you just disappeared."

Guilt twisted in your stomach. "Max, I'm so sorry, I—"

"She was with me," Charles said quietly, squeezing your hand.

Max's face fell slightly, though he tried to hide it. "Oh." He looked between you both, jaw working like he was trying to find the right words. "I thought... it's the championship, YN. Our fourth championship."

"I know," you said, stepping forward to hug him tightly. "And I'm so, so proud of you. You were incredible out there. But Charles needed me."

Max returned the hug, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders. When he pulled back, his expression was complicated – hurt mixed with resignation.

"Sure, whatever. Stay with your boyfriend." He shook his head, jaw clenched. "It's fine. Not like it's my fourth world championship or anything."

The sarcasm in his voice cut deep. Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you and Charles standing in the corridor.

The next morning, you found Max in the hotel gym, pounding away at a treadmill despite probably being hungover from the celebrations. You knew your brother well enough to recognize when he was working out his frustrations physically.

"Max," you called out softly.

He didn't look at you, just kept running. "Shouldn't you be with Charles?"

"Can we talk? Please?"

He jabbed at the treadmill controls, slowing to a stop. When he finally turned to face you, his expression was guarded. "About what? About how you ditched your own brother's championship celebration to comfort your boyfriend? Because he finished P4?" He grabbed his towel, wiping his face roughly. "Real nice, sister."

"That's not fair and you know it."

"Kelly already gave me the whole speech last night, you know," he said, "Something about 'understanding love' and 'being supportive' and how she'd do the same for me."

"And?"

"And I told her she's supposed to be on my side," he said, but there was less heat in his voice than before. "She just laughed at me."

You sat down on a nearby bench, and after a moment, he joined you. "I'm still mad," he admitted. "And it's still weird as hell that my sister is dating Charles bloody Leclerc of all people."

"Could be worse," you tried. "Could've been Lewis."

"Don't even joke about that," he groaned, but you caught the tiny smile he tried to hide. His face turned serious again. "Kelly made some good points though. About how she'd choose to be with me if I was struggling after a race, even if it meant missing something important. Still doesn't mean I like it."

"I really am sorry about disappearing like that."

"I wanted my sister there," Max's voice cracked slightly. "You've been there for every important moment in my career. Every single one. Until yesterday. It's like ever since you started dating him, I'm losing my little sister bit by bit."

"You're not losing me, Max. You're my brother, nothing will ever change that. But Charles...I love him."

Max was quiet for a long moment. "You really love him that much? It's that serious?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "It is."

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "I still don't like it. And I'm still mad about yesterday." He paused, then added grudgingly, "But I guess I need to get used to sharing you. Just... don't disappear on me like that again, okay? I had to listen to Helmut asking if you were sick or something. Do you know how awkward it was explaining that my sister was too busy consoling a Ferrari driver to celebrate with us?"

"Did you actually tell him that?"

"No, I told him you had a headache. You're welcome, by the way." He paused. "But seriously, YN. I get that you love him or whatever—" he made a face at the words, "—but you're still my sister."

"And you're still my annoying big brother," you leaned against his shoulder. "So... fourth championship, huh? Getting a bit boring now, isn't it?"

"Never," he grinned, then added more seriously, "Would've been better with you there though."

"I'll make it up to you. Plus, there's still family dinner tonight."

"Yeah, about that..." Max's expression turned mischievous. "I might have told Mom to make that really spicy Indonesian dish Charles couldn't handle last time."

"Max!"

"What? If he's going to be family, he needs to build up his tolerance," he said innocently. "Besides, it's payback for making me miss my sister at my championship celebration."

"You're impossible."

"Yeah, but I'm a four-time world champion impossible brother," he smirked, pulling you into a headlock like when you were kids. "And don't you forget it."

[thetadispatcher]

Dan merely raised his eyebrows at the other android expectantly, he knew he was just getting upset that anyone had dared to get near Vincent well he was working. Although he wasn't about to call him out on it, he knew it was a waste of time as the other really didn't want to admit he cared about Vincent.

Strasky glanced at Brent then Rook and Willow, he felt they knew something he didn't about why Brent looked so different from every other android he'd seen so far. But he'd refrain from asking for the time being as Willow had hinted Brent might not appreciate his odd appearance being brought up. "I guess I can be a bit abnormal at time..." He replied with a slight shrug, it seemed they would really have to ask his counterpart why he felt the need to modify Dan so drastically.

Vincent glanced at the android Bishop as he started helping him, he gave the other a small smile well he made a quiet, appreciative hum to let him know that he was thankful for the help. His LED finally turned blue as he a bit safer despite the strangers standing in the same room as him, but he was still a bit on edge which was evident by him reaching up to fiddle with his damaged ear.

Dan turned his head to give Bishop a cold, calculating look before one of his hands shot up to grab the man's neck directly under his jaw. He tightened his grasp just enough to make the threat clear, but not to the point he'd do any real damage, only some discomfort as he forced Bishop to meet his eyes. "Do not back talk me." He said in a stern tone before let go, feeling he'd made it clear he wasn't to be tested.

Brent still didn't understand why some androids, and even humans, felt the need to purposely upset Dan as so far he'd never seen one actually win against him.

"Uh, of course, follow me." Brent nodded as he turned, leading them down to the basement. He calmly walked by the former cells Zlatko had kept his experiments in which now housed spare parts and tool for the androids they repaired. He entered the room that they used to work on androids in, it was full of all the necessary equipment to do any kind of work they might need. A shelf high up lined the walls of the room, strung from it were LEDs androids had removed as well as an assortment of random objects that had been gifted to them from the junkyard androids they fixed.

A very young man had his back to them, working away on a computer as faint music filled the room. He stopped however as the music was shut off and Dan approached him as he turned around to see what was going on. "Dan!" He said excitedly as he spotted the PL600 standing behind him.

Strasky was still slightly surprised to hear his own voice come from someone else, even if the voice was clearly younger he still recognized it as his own.

The young man got up to wrap his arms around Dan tightly, and Dan gently returned the gesture before the two separated. "We have visitors, Peter." Dan explained as he moved aside to fully reveal Peter to the rest of the room before he started looking through the mess around the computer the human had been working on for something.

Peter smiled at them before he approached, Strasky stayed a bit hidden as he looked over the younger version of himself. They shared most of the same characteristics, but Peter's hair was far longer then Strasky's to the point it covered his ears, and he was also slightly shorter but it was clear from his age he wasn't quite done growing yet. Strasky was most shocked to find only one blue eye looking at them, the other was sunken into the socket and a pure white color.

Dan turned around after he located what he was searching for then grabbed Peter's head by the missing eye, popping the object he held in his hand into the empty space. The prosthetic was clearly a modified android part as it took a moment for it to turn on, but once it was activated it looked exactly like the remaining one and also matched it's movements instead of staying still.

"Oh, thanks Dan." He smiled at the android, who gave him a fond smile in return before he went to sit in one of the other chairs in the room. Peter turned back to the group as Brent took over what he was doing on the computer. "So, what can I do for you?"

The android stared at Bishop, then looked back to Dan with a skeptical look. There was a major difference between the two of them and he was clearly handling the issue in the most appropriate way.

As far as Rook was concerned, she was simply enjoying watching someone else kick Bishop's butt. Her attention however shifted to the new android that had walked in. The guy who lived in that place had really started a collection. "Hey, Willow."

"I know what you're thinking and I believe it'd be rude to say out loud." the cyborg replied, turning back to Strasky, "That might be it. However, I learned not to be too quick on making assumptions with you."

At least it looked like the android Bishop had decided to behave and went off to help picking up Vincent's toys. Watching anything Bishop shaped be so gentle and considerate was strange, but enlightening. Perhaps seeing Bishop get close to the other android was what had made him snap. Not that he could be blamed for it.

Not when Bishop was already replying to Dan's warnings with a defiant grin. "I'd like to see you try."

"Me too."

"Agent Bishop, behave." Willow frowned as both turned to look at her, "I'm talking to the organic one."

"Okay, let's go meet a stranger in the basement." Rook said, dragging Strasky along.

[eddiazx]

the bolter - evan buckley x reader

Buck doesn't mean to stare.

He had decided to grab a beer at the bar near his apartment to take the edge off the chaotic 12-hour shift he had just finished. He had planned to have the singular beer before calling it an early night, since he did have another shift the next morning.

But Buck couldn't help that his eyes kept being drawn to you. You were seated on the opposite end of the bar. The way your red lips moved, the way your eyes shined bright, and the exaggerated hand gestures you were making trying to recount a story has had Buck infatuated with you for the past hour.

Despite his observations, he didn’t approach you like he would’ve in the past. To Buck’s surprise, it’s you that approaches him. You saunter over, drink in hand, and slide into the stool next to him. Buck is immediately taken with how good you smell, your teasing smile and mischievous eyes even more prominent now that you were in front of him. You rest your cheek on one palm and look at him expectantly, before asking,

“Are you going to ask me to get out of here or are you just going to continue staring all night?”

Buck laughs, feeling his cheeks and ears get warm at your directness. He liked it. He was in trouble.

“Depends. What would your answer be if I did ask you?”

You respond by putting your hand in his and pulling him out of the bar.

Buck takes you back to his place. Buck is obviously no stranger to sex, but he can undoubtedly rank this night with you as one of the best experiences of his life. You both fall asleep on his bed hours later, your head on his sweaty chest. Buck drifts to sleep with a satisfied smile, eager to make you breakfast tomorrow and properly get to know you. He knows that he is jumping the gun, but he couldn't help dreaming of a potential future with you.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The next morning, Buck wakes up to emptiness, the only evidence of last night the rumpled sheets and the lingering scent of you in the air. You’re no where to be found and you hadn’t exchanged numbers in your lustful haze. Buck tries not to be disappointed; one night stands were coined that for a reason. However, he couldn’t help the hollow feeling in his chest; he really thought this thing with you was going to end differently. He temporarily sets aside his dismay and focuses on the fact that he has a shift in two hours.

•��� ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

“Alright team, we have a new recruit joining us today! Welcome them to the 118!” Bobby announces to the team, a few minutes into the shift.

Buck turns away from washing the fire engine to greet them, but when he does, his jaw, and the cloth that he was holding, drops.

Buck and you make eye contact, mirroring expressions of shock.

[yezzns]

random thoughts about hitman!yeonjun

pairings: hitman!yeonjun x gn!reader

genre: fluff (kinda), smut, slighty angsty, non idol au, double life.

warnings: mdni, meandom!yj, brief mention of gunplay, high stamina yj, mention of guns and murder, reader dgaf about her bf killing ppl, reader is kinda naive¿ yj calls reader ‘slut’ once.

a/n: I have 2 more works ready to post 🥴, already working on my masterlist. If you love Yeonjun feel free to check out the rest of my work in here.

MDNI / not proofread, sorry in advance for any mistakes

You first met hitman!yeonjun in a seemingly ordinary setting, like a coffee shop or a bookstore. He was charming and mysterious, and you were instantly drawn to him.

He’s careful to keep his profession a secret from you at first. He’s intrigued by the kindness and light you bring to his otherwise dangerous life. But soon you notice small things about him—like the way he’s always on high alert, or the occasional bruises he tries to hide. You chalk it up to him being a bit of an enigma.

Hitman!Yeonjun is a mysterious but passionate lover. You don’t know about his family, or his location most of the time— you even question why you’re dating this guy in the first place. Until he comes knocking on your door one night, a bouquet in his hand and an apologetic expression on his face. Making love to you for hours and getting you dumb on his dick until you forget he disappeared out of nowhere for a few days.

Hitman!Yeonjun is fiercely protective of you. He makes sure you’re safe without you even realizing it, subtly steering you away from potential dangers. You often find yourselves talking late into the night. Yeonjun opens up about his past, though he leaves out the deeper details.

Hitman!Yeonjun has the stamina of an Olympic athlete. This applies to both his job and sex. Fucking you like an animal all night when his day didn’t go as planned and he has to work double now. Filling you up nicely for hours when he knows he’ll be out of town for a while (and ruining you just as good when he’s back).

Hitman!yeonjun who sends you nudes when he’s on a ‘work trip’. Going back to where he’s staying for the night after a long day of stalking and getting rid of his objective, missing the feeling of your skin and the sound of your sweet moans. You’re too focused admiring his hard cock to notice that in his exhaustion, he forgot to hide his gun in the background of the picture.

But you eventually stumble upon evidence of hitman!Yeonjun’s true profession by accident. Maybe you find a hidden weapon between his folded clothes or overhear a suspicious conversation. When you confront him, Yeonjun is torn between protecting you and being honest. He eventually confesses, fearing he might lose you. You’re shocked and scared, but also understand that his actions were driven by a desire to protect you and others.

You both work on rebuilding trust. Hitman!Yeonjun promises to keep you safe and be honest with you, while you set boundaries to ensure your own safety. Despite the risks, you become his anchor. Your support helps him navigate the moral complexities of his job.

When he’s not on a job, hitman!Yeonjun loves spending quiet moments with you. Cooking together, watching movies, and just enjoying each other’s company.

Hitman!Yeonjun whose job turned him into a discipline freak most of the time. Sucking in a sharp breath when you’ve been getting on his nerves all day, being a brat when he’s already in a sour mood. Throwing you into the bed as soon as you get home, crashing your lips in a bruising kiss and almost ripping the clothes off your body. Swatting your hand away when you try to tug on his dressing shirt, muttering a “stay still, slut” under his breath as his hand reaches to squeeze your neck just enough to make you dizzy— quickly reminding you of just how dangerous he is. Effectively shutting you up and ending the night balls deep in you, making sure you come for more times than you can count. And maybe fucking you with his gun if he’s feeling kinky.

Hitman!Yeonjun surprises you with his hidden talents, like playing the guitar or being an amazing cook. These moments remind you of the normal life you both crave. It’s not always easy, but your love for each other keeps you going.

Hitman!Yeonjun struggles with the moral implications of his actions, drowning in guilt and regret. Your perspective helps him see things differently, and he starts questioning the path he chose, the many lives he’s taken. You both dream of a future where Yeonjun can leave this behind. It’s a distant hope, but it gives you both something to strive for.

Through all the challenges, your bond with hitman!Yeonjun grows stronger. You become each other’s safe haven, navigating the complexities of love and danger together.

a/n: remember this is fictional!

[miabluee]

｡ﾟ.｡✧ some tricks. .

. . .n’ rules .* . ｡ﾟ.

* always prepare if your gonna eat heaver meals— ex. i have Bloom before to help with bloating and digestion, and about an hour after i eat or whenever i get home i have a straight ACV shot. sometimes i will have ginger too, just depends (i use the ready-to-use paste, about as much as the length of my finger). lastly, i usually always have a cup of lax tea (x2-3 packets) before bed as a natural laxative and digestion aid. if i decide to fast after that consecutive day, i will normally continue this for 1-2 days. limiting the effects of eating like this might be a small thing, but with consistency it works.

* gradually drink full glasses of water before eating (within the span of about 30-45 minutes so you don’t get sick) or, have ‘sips’ of water between bites. in my experience, this makes what little food i actually do eat pass quicker (depending of what i eat ofc, which is not usually junk).

* using small plates/bowls— take time to prep your meals. spread out and separate what you are having to cover the whole plate and AGAIN, make a little seem like a lot. ofc sometimes eating from bigger dishware is unavoidable, ex. some holiday like Thanksgiving. if that happens, try to fill your plate with primarily vegetables. however still in this case, do your best to never finish what’s on your plate.

✧☾𖤓

* cut your food into smaller pieces; make a little seem like a lot then, limit further— ex. cutting a plain burger patty in 1/2, and one of those half’s into small pieces while leavening that other half alone on the plate. remember, less is always better<3

* enjoy your meal but don’t finish before others— chew your food slowly and thoroughly. match pace with who your around; trick them into thinking that your eating as much. do not make it obvious; engage in the conversation more to help as a distraction.

* illusion; you have to make it seem as if your actually eating— start leaving wrappers around the house, eat (throw away) some leftover meals and dirty a plate, etc. . . saying you ate at work or school will not work forever. u need to make them actually see evidence of food. plan your meals so when you do eat, they see. trust me<3

✧☾𖤓

* focus on clean eating and gut health— limiting sugar, dairy, and carbs; that’s as simple as it gets. (what keeps me from eating that bad shit is my fear of acne; yes, ofc weight gain and bloating too, but acne actually visibly shows on your skin and who genuinely wants to see that). ALSO, keep in mind that the more healthy you eat, the better it will actually taste. trust me<3

* choose quality if binging— here’s the thing; we all are gonna have binge and meta days, and wether you b/p or not, your still eating calories. it’s inevitable. nonetheless, what’s important is that you to pay attention to what you put into your body. in other words, binge on diet foods, dairy free options and overall lower caloric content. like if you want pizza, maybe choose cauliflower crust rather than regular. bread is super high in carbs and same for calories (i’m sure that’s obvious), but my point is that at least you’d be able to cut back some of the calories you’re consuming rather than eating say double or triple what the original product is. it’s a small difference, but it helps.

* adding 100% lemon/ lime juice to water— it helps curb hunger, speed up your metabolism, and reduce bloating (i bring a water bottle of this to work so i don’t eat on my lunches).

* tea and coffee— literally the best, but really try to cut/limit out the sweetener and additives (sugar is sugar, despite it being 0 cal, and u honestly really don’t need it; get the sugar you need from fruit) and, the bad taste of black coffee may deter you from eating.

* bone broth/ vegetable stock— soooo good for you, extremely low cal, and is a wonderful way to get a bit of energy without actually eating. it’s a healthy liquid that has nutrients BUT it is bland, so on occasion i’ll add a tablespoon of salsa (might sound strange but it’s actually reallyyy fucking good).

* diets drinks— i personally try to limit myself because of ‘nonexistent’ sugar (again, even if it says 0). however, caffeine is caffeine and it helps you seem full; go crazy on it because they will become your best friend.

* juice— most juice brands add sugar anyways (even the all natural ones) and if they don’t, still get in the habit of cutting that shit out of your diet. you honestly don’t need it. ofc if you do crave juice, have something on a meta day or spoil yourself with a yet low cal option (like an Sparkling Ice [5cal]). even better, make a smoothie; the best thing is actually knowing what you put into your body.

* honey— it’s very good for you, but it is HIGH in sugar. hear me out: as little as i’ve had it throughout my life, whether it’s in tea, baklava, graham crackers, or whatever else (like it doesn’t even matter how much or what i consume) i’ve found that honey WILL break me out without question. so, while it’s good for you, i do everything to avoid it because i usually get the sugar i want/ need from fruit. ofc there are those few people that can literally eat it— practically drink— as much as they want, so don’t be scared of it because it is sugar. remember, it still is a 100% natural source of sweetener. this is what just works for me, that being cutting it out from my diet completely.

* chia seeds— they are an excellent source of fiber (when i have them, its when i need a pick-me-up; like rather than breaking my fast completely by having solid foods, i’ll always have less that a tbsp with a glass of water instead). just keep in mind calorie content.

* chili peppers/ hot sauce & seasonings— a really good way to help boost your metabolism and limit what you eat; if spice makes you uncomfortable, try to start slowly and build a tolerance (i like to pickle/ jar the chili peppers i get and i usually just add few to my meals, or, i use the alternative: hot sauce).

* gum— it’s a staple, but try to lean towards the sugar free option. (i like fruit flavors most; i just can’t chew the others on an empty stomach easily. sometimes i treat a piece as if it’s a meal and that typically it works for me. it really honestly makes me just drink more water, which is obviously an added bonus).

✧☾𖤓

* fasting— be mindful that metabolic adaptation can occur in as little as two weeks so don’t overdo; the goal is to continuously lose weight. but again, if u do break a fast, it’s okay. please don’t beat yourself up: just accept it and move on.

* we all know this, but distraction; find ways to keep yourself occupied— research something interesting, do something you like, or try something new (there’s infinite possibilities, just keep exploring).

* continuous movement— doesn’t matter what, just burn calories (ex. i try my best to walk at least 10k steps everyday at work, even if i decide to workout or not that night. on my days off i try to focus primarily on reps.). mindset: even a little exercise is better than nothing.

* brushing your teeth— i was actually skeptical about this one, but it does work (i like to do it all; brush and then floss, mouthwash, and then do whitening strips or whatever when i’m really craving something).

* food log/planner— i know that this is controversial, but i personally like to plan out ahead of time (as in weeks) of what exactly i’m going to eat and when/how long i’m going to fast, including meta days. i count calories usually that ‘scheduled’ day before i eat so i don’t go over. i mainly just do this to make sure i’m getting enough of everything, or at least a taste, so i don’t get horrible cravings and binge really bad. however, do NOT obsess; it’s important to treat it as a guideline.

[soleilapproves]

Possible sneak peek:

Nanami was flushed. It was unlike him to be at such a place with a stranger on his lap. His eyes squinted, trying to make sense of his surroundings all while being inebriated. His red solo cup was long discarded in some corner of the large room, possibly leaking out whatever was left of the concoction that had him so delirious (a horrendous amalgamation of green apple Smirnoff and Fireball).

"So," the girl on his lap said while tracing a finger down Nanami's crisp navy shirt that now had a few creases. "You wanna take this upstairs?" He gulped as she nipped his ear lobe. He had made out with women before but he knew her suggestion meant entirely something else.

Intercourse. Coitus. Sex

Something he is inexperienced in despite looking like a walking wet dream. He expended sexual frustration in the gym and the results made it quite evident; veins protruding from his forearms when he made the slightest movement, sculpted chest that looked like it was chiseled by Apollo himself and, tight thighs that were a result of strenuous rock climbing.

He wanted to do the sinful deed badly but never found the right person to do it with. And it sure as hell wasn’t going to be in a dingy college party with a stranger who (without his consent) was sitting on his lap.

“I have to go.” The blond lightly pushed the drunk woman off him and went outside to sober up and look for one of his friends- Geto.

Ah, Geto Suguru. English literature major, and artist on the side who funded his hobbies by working as part-time barista at the local cafe. With long dark hair and hypnotizing pools one called eyes, it was obvious that the campus cafe would be at its busiest when he was working.

He sat among a bunch of people, smoking a shared joint with one of the girls that was cozying up to his side. The THC in his system was screaming at him to kiss her (and he knew she’d kiss back), but he wasn’t into it tonight.

He was tired of meaningless touches and caresses. He wanted something serious. Someone who saw him for him and not a tortured artist who painted pictures of his conquests (just women he led on with the idea of a relationship and then abandoned them because of a lack of emotional connection).

He was tired of being toxic. He wanted to breathe clean air for once. His tired red eyes stared at the rolled up joint between his fingers as the girl next to him leant down to take a drag from it.

‘This is going to be the last time I do this shit,’ he thought to himself as he pulled the girl away from the joint by her neck. He took in a drag and exhaled into her mouth as she let out a surprised yet aroused gasp.

He knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her. He didn’t want to sleep with someone who only wanted sex. His first time was precious to him and he was not going to give it away to some desperate skank (he could almost hear Nanami reprimanding him to not demean random women but he doesn’t care for it).

He began to wonder what his friend Gojo was up to.

“Chug, chug, chug!” Gojo yelled as he held on to some random girl’s throat while pouring beer down her mouth through his red solo cup. She claimed that she had never drank before but she was taking it like a champ.

They always do that. They always lie to him about being innocent and demure. And he was tired of it.

He cheered once she finished the drink and wrapped her arms around his neck. He gave her a boyish smirk and squeezed her cheeks. “You were pretty good for a first timer.” She took off his black aviators that he wore everywhere and put it on herself (much to his annoyance). “That’s cause I lied. I just wanted you to grab my neck.”

Barf. Can’t a man be friends with a woman without wanting to have sex with her. Is that what friendship has boiled down to?

She pressed her front to his and he immediately pushed her off. “Okay, tiger, you have fun. I’m gonna… make sure no one is fucking in my room.”

The girl grumbled but let him go. He was the host of this not-so-classy soirée after all so it was his responsibility that there was some form of decorum (yes, decorum. Even if Geto was outside, smoking weed and people were grinding against one another like they had never felt the touch of another human being).

He opened his door to see an empty room and thanked his lucky stars. The overstimulating atmosphere of the party was wearing him out to the point where he had forgotten his very expensive shades with the sleazy liar downstairs. Whatever, he could always get more. That’s what trust funds are for.

He wondered what it would be like to be with a woman who was genuinely interested in him for once. Someone who saw him beyond his money and power. Maybe he wouldn’t be a virgin. Maybe he wouldn’t be afraid of sharing his last name with her because she’ll use it responsibly.

All he can do is wish for it.

Imagine Gojo, Geto and Nanami being an unlikely friend group that haven’t lost their virginities yet.

It’s their last year of college and all they want to do is get laid before they enter the work force and life keeps them busy with taxes, bills, and down payments.

So they decided to come up with a pact- the virginity loss pact where they will each make sure to lose it before graduation. Doesn’t matter to whom.

Except none of them know that they all want to lose it to the same girl- you.

They’re all trying their best to seduce you, get you in their bed all while you’re thinking about how they’re so kind to you. Nanami always tutors you for difficult subjects, Gojo is good at helping you and your friends skip lines at the club, and Geto? Well, he’s just great eye candy (just kidding, he always sneaks in extra free whipped cream whenever he’s the barista at your college cafe).

Unbeknownst to you, all these men are best friends and all of them want a piece of you.

(I got the idea while watching Superbad 💀)

[misaerabl]

Backbeat

band guitarist (kinda a loser) ellie x reader

MINORS AND MEN DNI / word count: 3.6k words

SUMMARY: Ellie, a shy guitarist in a local band, has been harboring a quiet crush on you, a barista who works at her favorite café. Despite her growing feelings, she struggles to express them. As the band's upcoming gig approaches, Ellie grapples with her emotions and finally gathers the courage to invite you to the show. WARNINGS: uhm none I guess... (SFW) A/N: leaning more into the format of "Feeding The Fire"

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The café was bustling as usual, the clink of cups and the hum of conversation filling the air. You wiped down the counter, your movements steady and practiced, as you glanced over to the usual spot where Ellie and her band sat. She was there again, like clockwork, though today she was being uncharacteristically quiet. You noticed how her fingers drummed lightly on the table, her gaze flickering over the menu, even though she knew exactly what she wanted.

It was then that Jesse, the band’s outspoken and confident guitarist, leaned across the table, his voice loud enough to cut through the noise. "Come on, Ellie," he teased, his grin wide, "you’ve been coming here for months, and you still haven’t even said more than, what—'I'll have a coffee'?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her shyness.

Ellie’s face flushed, her eyes flicking to you behind the counter before quickly averting her gaze. "Shut up, Jesse," she muttered, her voice quiet, though her discomfort was evident in the way she tugged at the sleeve of her jacket, a nervous habit.

Jesse leaned back, clearly not backing down. "No, seriously. You’ve got a thing for the barista, don’t you?" His voice was louder now, and Ellie’s face went even redder. She didn’t answer, but the way she avoided looking at you gave her away.

The bandmates around them laughed, but Jesse’s teasing wasn’t over. "You’re practically obsessed with this girl. I swear, you could probably recite her coffee order by heart by now. How many times have you been here this week alone?"

Ellie didn’t reply. She kept her focus on the table, fiddling with the napkin holder like it was the most interesting thing in the world. You could see the mix of embarrassment and something else—something deeper—as her fingers drummed the table lightly, a subtle, rhythmic pulse that seemed to mirror the quiet beat of her heart.

Jesse, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting, nudged Ellie’s shoulder. "Come on, admit it. You’re too shy to talk to her. You’ve got the biggest crush, and you're not doing a damn thing about it."

Ellie shot him a glare, but it was more out of habit than any real anger. She couldn’t deny it. She was smitten, but she’d never admit it out loud, at least not yet.

"She’s just a barista, Jesse," Ellie mumbled, but even her words were tinged with uncertainty.

Jesse, sensing the vulnerability beneath Ellie’s tough exterior, grinned wider. "A barista you keep staring at every time she walks by. Yeah, sure." He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a teasing whisper. "What’s it gonna take to get you to talk to her? Or are you just gonna keep letting her serve you coffee in silence?"

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, her fingers tapping against the table again, almost like a rhythm she couldn’t quite control. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Come on," Jesse pushed. "Don’t let your chance slip away."

Ellie bit her lip, her gaze flicking over to you once more as you moved behind the counter, oblivious to the conversation unfolding. She felt that familiar flutter in her chest, the kind that always hit her when she saw you. But it wasn’t enough to make her act. Not yet. Not today.

"Maybe next time," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "Next time? You’ve been saying that for months." He nudged her again, and with a defeated sigh, Ellie slumped back in her chair, her thoughts tangled in the rhythm of her own unspoken feelings—her own backbeat.

Echoes of You

The soft hum of the world outside drifted through the window, but inside her room, Ellie’s focus was all on the quiet stirrings in her chest. The walls were lined with posters of bands she loved, her bed a mess of scattered clothes and guitar picks. The dim light from the lamp beside her flickered gently as she lay back, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Her mind wandered to you—the barista with the gentle smile and the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you greeted her, even though she barely spoke beyond her usual order. There had been something about you from the first time she stepped into the café, but now, with each passing visit, that something had grown, unspoken and undeniable.

She could still hear Jesse’s teasing voice in her head. “You’re just a shy little mess, Ellie. Just talk to her already.”

But it wasn’t that simple. How could it be? Every time she walked into that café, she felt her pulse race, her nerves jittery as if everything—her heart, her words, her courage—might suddenly slip through her fingers.

Ellie closed her eyes, the sound of her breathing deep and slow as she tried to center herself. But there you were again, your face lingering in the back of her mind. And in the quiet of her room, she couldn’t escape it. The rhythm of her thoughts was there, pulsing in her veins, like the backbeat she always felt when playing her guitar.

She sat up abruptly, her hands reaching for the instrument resting against the corner of her bed. The familiar weight of it felt comforting in her arms, grounding her in the moment. She began to strum absently, her fingers moving across the strings in a rhythm that was both calming and restless at once.

A quiet hum escaped her lips, something soft, something simple. It was a melody she’d been carrying with her for days now—just fragments, nothing complete. But it was all about you. In every chord, in every note, she could hear the undercurrent of her feelings—soft, but always there, steady, like a pulse beneath the music.

She let the melody fill the space around her, her thoughts drifting in and out as she let her hands move freely. Her voice followed, hesitant at first, then growing more certain. She wasn’t singing the words out loud—no, this was something much quieter, more intimate. It was the kind of song she’d been afraid to admit existed within her, let alone express.

The song took shape slowly, a kind of confession written not in words, but in notes. A simple tune, nothing grand, nothing flashy, just the truth she couldn’t bring herself to speak aloud.

You don't even know, but you make my heart beat slow... Every time you smile, it's like I'm running wild... I don’t know how to say it, but I think you might be it...

She paused, her fingers still on the strings, but the hum of the song had stopped. The silence in the room felt heavy now, almost as if the song had unlocked something inside her that she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.

The truth of it hit her then—she was writing a song about you. She had known it all along, but it was like the words on the page had made it real.

She bit her lip, the guitar resting in her lap now, her mind spinning. She wasn’t sure where it would go from here, or even if it would ever reach you. But there was something in the backbeat of the song, something deep and raw, that she couldn’t ignore anymore.

Ellie stood up from the bed, the song still echoing in her ears as she walked over to her desk. She grabbed her notebook and began to write the lyrics down. Her handwriting was messy, like her thoughts, but it was hers. It was real.

“Maybe one day, you’ll hear it,” she whispered to the empty room, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Inviting the Rhythm

It was a quiet afternoon at the café, the usual midday rush having come and gone. You leaned against the counter, a soft tune playing from the café’s speakers as you wiped down a cup. There wasn’t much left to do, but you didn’t mind the calm. Your thoughts, however, wandered back to Ellie.

You hadn’t seen her yet today, but you knew she’d be here. It had become a familiar rhythm—Ellie would show up, usually with her bandmates, take her usual seat, and quietly sip her coffee while they chatted amongst themselves. But today, there was a shift in the air, something different. You didn’t know what, but you felt it.

And then you saw her. She walked in, but instead of heading straight to the table where she always sat, she hesitated by the door, as if weighing something. Her hands were shoved into her jacket pockets, her eyes flicking around the room nervously. It wasn’t like Ellie to come in alone.

You felt a pang of curiosity. It wasn’t lost on you that Ellie had been coming in for months now, but you never really had a conversation. Not a real one, anyway. You had always wondered why she kept coming, but every time you tried to make small talk, she clammed up, giving you short answers before retreating back into the comfort of her bandmates.

Today was different, though. She finally made her way to the table, but instead of sitting with the rest of the band, she pulled out a chair and sat by herself. The usual upbeat chatter from her bandmates was absent. Ellie’s gaze was fixed on the table, her fingers tapping in that familiar, anxious rhythm.

You made your way over, wiping your hands on your apron as you approached her table.

"Hey, Ellie," you greeted with a warm smile. "You’re alone today. What’s up?"

Ellie looked up at you, and for a split second, her expression was unreadable. There was a flash of uncertainty in her eyes, something you hadn’t seen before. Her fingers, which had been tapping on the table, stilled as she fidgeted with the napkin holder.

“Uh, yeah,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. “The others are, uh, running late... or something. I... I thought I’d come early.” She quickly glanced at her phone, avoiding your gaze again.

You nodded, trying to keep the conversation light. "Cool. You don’t usually come in alone. Everything good with the band?"

Ellie shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, but she managed a small nod. "Yeah, everything’s fine. Just... needed a change of scenery today."

You leaned against the table, giving her space but also wanting to know more. "Well, you know, you're always welcome here. If you need a place to think... or just get away."

Ellie met your eyes for a moment, and there was something about the way her gaze softened that made your heart skip. For a second, you thought she might say something—something more than just her usual shy smile or quick one-liner—but the words stayed locked behind her lips.

The silence stretched, and Ellie’s fidgeting resumed, her fingers tapping lightly on the table again.

"So... are you still coming to our gig on Friday?" Ellie suddenly asked, her voice steadying as she looked up at you.

You blinked, taken off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. "Uh, yeah, I was planning on it," you replied, a little surprised. You’d heard about the gig from the band, but hearing Ellie mention it specifically made your stomach flutter. "Why?"

Ellie swallowed, her fingers still tapping nervously. "Well... I, uh... wanted to... you know, invite you. It’s not... it’s not just for the band or anything. Just... thought you might want to come."

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if you were hearing her right. She seemed so different today, more vulnerable, less guarded than usual. "You’re inviting me? Just me?" you asked, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Ellie flushed, looking away quickly. "I mean... yeah," she muttered, "if you want to come. I—I’ll be playing, and... you could hear us. Just... don’t make it weird." She winced as soon as the words left her mouth, clearly regretting the awkwardness that had already settled between you.

You couldn’t help but smile at her shyness. "Of course, I’ll come," you said warmly, trying to ease the tension. "I wouldn’t miss it."

Ellie relaxed a little, the smallest smile curving her lips. "Great," she whispered. "I’ll... see you there."

You nodded, still caught off guard by her sudden openness, but something in her voice told you that this was more than just a casual invitation. There was a quiet hope beneath the words—Ellie was finally letting down her walls, even if it was just a little.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. You knew this gig was going to be more than just music—it would be the start of something, a rhythm that would soon be impossible to ignore.

The Song in the Silence

The crowd buzzed with excitement as Ellie’s band played through their set, each song building momentum with the kind of raw energy only a live performance could bring. You stood near the back of the club, nestled between the sea of people, your eyes fixed on Ellie. Tonight, she was different—her nervousness was replaced by an undeniable confidence. Her guitar was like an extension of her, and with every strum, her entire body seemed to resonate with the music.

You had seen Ellie around the café countless times, shy, awkward, and always hiding behind her guitar when you’d run into her. But up on stage, she was a different person. There was a power in the way she played—her fingers gliding across the strings with ease, her posture commanding the space. Every song seemed to have a part of her, but it was the last one that caught your attention the most.

The band was playing their final song, and the vibe in the club shifted, the energy growing electric. Ellie was playing rhythm guitar this time, her eyes closed as she lost herself in the music. Her bandmates—Jesse on bass, Dina on lead vocals—were fully immersed, their music echoing through the venue. But every time you glanced at Ellie, she was slightly more distant, her focus intense as if she was preparing for something.

The song’s outro built slowly, and you could feel the anticipation hanging in the air like a held breath. Then, in a moment of stillness, Ellie leaned over to Dina, whispering something too quiet for you to hear. Dina, the lead singer, nodded in response, a sly smile tugging at her lips. The band finished the instrumental portion, and the crowd fell into an expectant silence.

Dina stepped up to the mic, her usual confidence now laced with a playful excitement. "Alright, folks, this next one’s a special one. You’ve been hearing a lot of us tonight, but now we’re gonna switch things up," she said, her voice carrying through the room.

You watched as Ellie adjusted the strap of her guitar, standing slightly straighter, her posture giving away a hint of nervousness. It was a different side of her, one you hadn't seen before. The music was still alive in her body, but something else lingered in the air.

Dina continued, a mischievous grin on her face. "Ellie’s gonna take over for this last one. Let’s show her some love!"

The crowd cheered, a wave of applause rippling through the room. Ellie looked out into the crowd, her expression a mix of surprise and nervousness, but she nodded as if steeling herself for something big.

She took a deep breath and, with one last glance at her bandmates, her voice came through the mic—not yet, but the promise was there. The beginning of a song. But this wasn’t just any song—it was different. You could feel it in the air.

The first notes rang out, and Ellie’s fingers moved deftly on her guitar, filling the space with the familiar chords of the song. Her eyes were fixed on the neck of the guitar as she played, but there was a shift—a subtle, almost imperceptible change. It wasn’t just the song; it was the feeling behind it, the energy that swelled in the room, pulling everyone’s focus.

And then, Ellie began to sing.

Her voice was soft at first, hesitant, but each word carried an intimacy that sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t just the lyrics—it was the emotion she put into them. As the chorus hit, the raw vulnerability in her voice reached deep into the pit of your stomach.

You didn’t know it yet, but the song was about you.

Ellie’s eyes flickered to you from the stage, and for a fleeting second, you caught a glimpse of something deeper in her gaze—something that was always there, but hidden behind the awkwardness and the shyness. The song was her confession, wrapped in the melody, hidden in the lyrics, as if she had poured everything she couldn’t say into the notes and words.

The crowd swayed, caught up in the music, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Ellie. The way she held herself now, the way she sang the song with a quiet desperation—like she was telling a secret only you could hear.

When the song ended, there was a brief moment of silence, followed by an eruption of applause. But you couldn’t focus on the crowd or the noise. You were still caught in the intensity of Ellie’s performance, her eyes finding yours once again, lingering for a moment longer than usual.

She set her guitar down with a shaky breath, her shoulders dropping as she stepped back from the mic. The room felt different, as if the weight of her confession still hung in the air, waiting to be acknowledged.

Dina was the first to break the silence, her voice light and teasing. "See? Told you she could do it. Ellie, you were amazing!"

Ellie didn’t answer at first, just looking down at her guitar. It was clear she was embarrassed—maybe even overwhelmed by the act of putting her feelings into that song. But for the first time, you saw her vulnerability laid bare, not in awkward moments or shy smiles, but through the very thing she loved most—her music.

The applause around you blurred as you finally allowed the truth to sink in. Ellie had just sung her heart out, and somehow, you knew it was for you.

The Confession in the Chords

The applause faded into a hum of conversations and clinking glasses as the band began packing up their gear. You lingered near the back of the club, unsure if you should stay or leave. Something about that last song tugged at you, lingering in the air like the final notes of a melody refusing to let go.

Ellie was still on stage, carefully coiling her guitar cable. Her usual awkward energy was back—head down, shoulders hunched—so different from the confident girl who had just sung her heart out. Jesse nudged her, whispering something that made Ellie shoot him a glare before he laughed and hopped off the stage, leaving her alone.

You hesitated, then made your way closer. By the time you reached the edge of the stage, Ellie had packed her guitar into its case but hadn’t moved. She looked up as you approached, her green eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Hey," you said, your voice louder than intended over the buzz of the room.

Ellie blinked, then gave a small, shy smile. "Hey."

There was an awkward pause, the kind that usually made you uncomfortable, but now it felt charged, like there was something more waiting to be said. You broke the silence first. "You were amazing tonight."

Ellie ducked her head, her cheeks tinting pink. "Thanks. I—uh—didn’t expect you to actually come."

"Why wouldn’t I? You invited me," you replied with a small laugh. "And I’m glad I did. That last song..." You trailed off, searching for the right words. "It felt... personal."

Ellie froze for a second, her hand gripping the edge of her guitar case. "Yeah, uh..." She glanced around, as if looking for an escape route, then sighed and looked back at you. "It was."

You tilted your head, curious. "Who’s it about?"

She rubbed the back of her neck, her gaze darting everywhere but at you. "That’s, uh... kind of a long story."

"I’ve got time," you teased gently, crossing your arms.

Ellie finally met your eyes, her expression a mix of vulnerability and determination. "It’s about someone who makes me feel like I’m stuck in the background, like... like I don’t know how to say the things I want to say when they’re around."

Your heart skipped a beat at the weight in her words. "Ellie..."

She swallowed hard, her fingers twitching at her sides. "It’s about you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but the words hit like a drumbeat, steady and sure.

The world seemed to blur around you, the noise of the club fading into a distant hum. Ellie’s gaze didn’t waver now, her earlier shyness replaced by a quiet resolve.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. But then you smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. "I guess I should feel honored," you said, your tone light, though your voice betrayed your emotions.

Ellie chuckled nervously, scratching the back of her head. "Or creeped out. I don’t know—maybe both?"

"No, not creeped out," you assured her, your smile widening. "Not even a little."

Her shoulders relaxed, the tension melting away as she let out a relieved laugh. "Good. I was kinda terrified you’d think I was a weirdo."

"Well, you are," you teased, your grin turning playful. "But I think I like that about you."

Ellie’s mouth opened slightly, as if to respond, but instead, she let out another laugh, this one softer, more genuine. "Guess I can live with that."

For the first time, the silence between you felt easy, comfortable. The noise of the club returned, but it didn’t matter. In that moment, the backbeat of unspoken feelings that had been building for so long finally found its melody, and it was yours to share.

[coffin-ramblings]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[supremechancellorrex]

Okay, then, it's online space, we can go back and forth forever as it's all public discourse and there's no such thing as trespassing. Please give me examples of Mai saying fascist rhetoric or looking down on other nations racially. Aside from her just existing as a FN character born on the wrong side of the border. "Zuko did x" is actually a good measure when there's a double standard. Funny enough, I've met even people who call Zuko fascist and dislike Zuko's redemption story as it ends up with him as an absolute monarch, who mishandles the Fire Nation colony problem and puts FN citizen interests above Earth Kingdom interest for much of the Promise. The word is hardly stirring in this fandom now. Others have called him an abuser for how controlling he was in the Beach in who Mai could talk to. And they tell me all of that is so apparent. It seems in some opinions Zuko is badly written, despite the feels and "kindness" conclusions.

Also with Sokka and Suki it is not a "false equivalence" because Sokka and Suki were friends and then lovers who meet up again and kissed in the Serpent's Pass after spending days together and that whole spiel about Yue, his first girlfriend. He rebuffs Ty Lee in the Crossroads of Destiny by saying he's "with Suki now". Sokka went into a fit of rage and cried in Day of Black Sun over Suki, yet he didn't think of her missing until Azula mentions it despite it being weeks. Then as soon as they meet up again Sokka tries to smooch her immediately. They are in a relationship, it goes without saying. This is the nature of Avatar. You could complain the relationship between Suki and Sokka is fast, it could also be complained that Sokka forgets about Suki for a long time despite being committed to her. Arguably makes Sokka seem rather callous if one is to ignore this is an episodic kid's show, same with Zuko.

As for your conjecture of "We're supposed to think", that's just your interpretation, a rather absolutist one, but the context, voice acting, body language/smiles and structuring of those scenes, including the quotes I have shared but you're free to watch them yourself, make it unlikely for quite a number of others, myself included. Since you've talked about what you hate, I'll tell you that I dislike in the fandom. Absolutist takes where everyone in the audience is told "We're supposed to" with no evidence provided. This is what Azula stans say, they say "We're supposed to sympathise with Azula", "We're supposed to see that she's an abuse victim child and not judge her at all", despite it just being their interpretation. Mai does not dismiss everything Zuko says, there are many times she tries to understand and comfort him in Book 3, and Zuko's actual reasons for leaving are stated in the show.

Zuko: "Everyone in the Fire Nation thinks I'm a traitor... I couldn't drag her into it."

This is a protective measure for her, not "anti-war rhetoric" fears.

I think it's quite clear he didn't think she was going to do anything to him. He expresses no actual fear towards Mai at all. Even when he runs into her in the Boiling Rock, still no fear. It's because Mai and Zuko actually have a level of trust, because Mai has been often supportive of him despite a couple mistakes here and there. The more Zuko and Mai got to know each other in the show, the more time goes the more they ironed out problems like how most relationships work.

I also disagree with your accusations of how I allegedly "misconstrued" your argument when I actually think you misunderstand and misconstrue mine. You don't have to say someone doesn't need to be as bad as Ozai or Azula to be an abuser, although it's rather irrelevant, and I never said Mai's difficulty emoting was a good thing. Just like I would never say Zuko taking out his anger on others is a good thing, if we're talking about the relationship and responsibility. The funny thing is, Mai learns how to emote more and express herself. She even smiles more as the series progresses, she confronts Azula, she chooses Zuko over fear and bitterness. As for 'just "being human" and a teenage girl", think you restructured my sentence there, but regardless I never said Mai was perfect, there are reasons why, and I just don't believe it takes her out the running from having a relationship with Zuko just because they both have baggage or aren't perfect at communicating in every interaction. If you don't think Mai is "nasty", then why would Katara be supposedly justified in punching her in the throat and never liking her? I think the word is actually a good summary of your view of her, since you claim she's an "abuser" and "mean" to everyone, demanding a relationship with Zuko as if this an entrapment case (despite Zuko clearly wanting the relationship as well and making his own decisions).

Zuko [surprised, happy]: 'Mai! You're okay! They let you out of prison?"

Mai : "My uncle pulled some strings. And it doesn't hurt when the new Fire Lord is your boyfriend."

Zuko: [happy, smiling] "So does this mean you don't hate me anymore?"

Look at Zuko's response, look at the context. Think we can take it that Mai isn't demanding anything here if they both know each other and what each other wants. Zuko is receptacle because he wants to be back with her, and she knows it, which is the context of the dialogue. It feels like you're forcing Mai into an aggressor/abuser role that doesn't fit her character. Mai herself is critiqued in the narrative for suppressing her emotions, and as the narrative continues we see her learn to express them more to the point she not only yells in the Beach but later goes against Azula. But Mai is never an abuser. Whether you appreciate this or not, these are canon scenes. You can argue bad writing, but it doesn't change that the writing is geared to Mai being a certain character, and that is likely not the one you're accusing her of, even with her earlier villain rep that felt rather mild in the narrative ultimately. She didn't even want to chase Katara and Sokka through slurry.

As for Ukano, guy hardly seems like a threat, Mai handled him and everyone easily while holding a toddler. Perhaps Mai didn't think Ukano would achieve much, or join with Azula, who was supposed to be in asylum. Do I think it's bad writing? Sure. Entire New Ozai Society is. Same with how I think Zuko regressing his character arc and getting advice from a genocidal maniac like Ozai is bad. At worst, they're just both muddled about their bad fathers and manipulated at times, Ukano plants doubts in Mai's mind in Smoke and Shadow (that undermine Maiko), Ozai plants doubts in Zuko in the Promise (that consequently undermine Maiko). Not sure how this adds to your Mai is an abuser narrative, Ukano and Ozai are a better fit for the blame by messing with their kids' feelings and relationship.

"I think Katara would get along with Azula/Mai because female solidarity!"

Cool. I think Katara would punch fascists in the throat.

[finnbin]

Kyborg headcanons because he has lived in my brain for over a year like a nasty little parasite. Casual warning that most of these will be pretty depressing cus that's just how my brain works LOL enjoy ;)

there's a lot have fun

- Gum-Gum reminds him of his cousins. He actually does keep up that offer from when they were in Evirwinter and teaches him how to shoot a bow. It was seen as a familial tradition back home, but Kyborg is more than happy at being able to share this.

- The first kill with your bow was a rite of passage, followed by gutting and cooking the meat, before preparing the pelt for the child. The meat was cooked, and presented to those most respected by the child. He gave it to his parents. It's up to the child what they make with it, but Kyborg chose to make his bracer (arm-guard) from the dire wolf pelt he gained. He made gloves with the rest of it, and gave it to his sister.

- Feels a crushing amount of pressure to preserve his culture, but he isn't very practiced in common. He can write in elven, but it's a dialect from his own village: Evirish, so no-one but him can clearly read it. He finds it hard to remember traditions, without the pressure of being unable to transcribe them anyway.

- The idea that his heritage, and bloodline will die with him eats him up at night.

- Instead of writing them down, Kyborg enlists Bart's help, with the halfling transcribing for him. Bart also decides to help teach him common, and in exchange Kyborg teaches Bart Evirish. They both look back on these lessons warmly.

- He hates silence. Like, he hates silence, so much so that he finds it really hard to sit in a quiet room, or to try and sleep. It reminds him of the solitude of his childhood. He rambles and talks a lot of shit to compensate for this. Dr Ahem made him a little clock that ticks to fill the silence.

- Found Mudd the hardest to bond with, because of his opposite view of quiet. Mudd relishes in the quiet, enjoying just sitting and thinking about life. This led to the two having a tense relationship until they understood how the other felt.

- Always smells of pine wood.

- He loves baths so much, but if asked, he'd say he prefers showers. No-one believes him.

- Absurdly clingy, and hates being consciously by himself with nothing to focus on. He sticks like glue to people he trusts, always making sure they're in his eye-line, or that he knows where they are 24/7. Some find this annoying, so he tries to limit physical closeness, but does keep a mental tracker on their position.

- Despite this, he usually fucks off to 'patrol the area' or scavenge for supplies because he's been conditioned into believing that where he lives cannot be safe without constant surveillance. This causes no small amount of panic for the others when their stupid elf man randomly disappears. Kyborg is confused about people being concerned about him.

- Cuts his hair as soon as he can after the Massacre. Hair was seen as a form of honour, reputation and respect. He didn't think he deserved any of that anymore. He can't bring himself to fully cut it again, after that, but sometimes - if he believes he's screwed something up - he'll trim handfuls to his skull.

- Hoards food. Rations food. Has a terrible relationship with food. There's not much to eat in a frozen wasteland, so the overwhelming amount of food that is available to him is so weird. His stomach literally cannot handle how much he eats when he first finds the infinight's pantry. He feels so so guilty at wasting it, and hides any evidence. He doesn't eat big meals after that moment.

- Keeps an absurd amount of rations, and other provisions on him at any possible time, just in case something bad happens.

- So many scars. So so many.

- Unconsciously slips back into 'feral mode' and doesn't speak, or actually like himself. Usually happens after he is injured, especially on his shoulders or arm. Churs and growls, and is overly protective of his found family during these moments, often a concerning amount. Locks them all in a room with him and paces around, checking for danger. Usually doesn't respond to talking, and can't easily distinguish friend from foe. Bites. He is humiliated every time this happens and usually hides away somewhere for the next couple of hours before acting like nothing happened.

- Has horribly graphic fantasies about Quadron. That thirst to avenge had been his only motivation to stay alive. Revenge burns hot in his veins, and he never wanted that drive to keep moving to leave. Secretly fears that, when he gets his revenge, that he won't be able to keep living.

- Has chronic, and phantom, pain in shoulder and 'arm'. Usually ignores it, until Mudd catches him curled in on himself and practically forces Kyborg to let him help.

- Doesn't actually hate Brink. He is freaked out by his short hair, though. What had he done to deserve such constant haircuts?

- Felt a horrible kind of empty after Quadron died. Was secretly jealous that Mudd killed him.

- Never fully forgave Dr Ahem for what he did. Feels terrible, because he's dead, but can't find it in him. Still feels anxious around the robot assistants.

- He eventually finds Quadron's prototype blueprints as he's preparing the infinight hall for his hospital. Can't feel angry at him. There's messy markings over odd, old papers near the prototype, and memories of the man Quadron had been before he went insane; of the relationship between him and Ahem. Kyborg burns them all.

- Scared of bugs. They don't really exist in a winter forest, so they really freak him out.

- After he gained the Source Diagem, he saw glimpses of his family out of the corner of his eyes. No matter how much he hoped, they never fully showed themselves like they had on the blood moon.

- After he lost the gem, again, it was like opening an infected, raw wound again. He grieved for them.

- Had a pet fox before joining the infinights. Fred reminds him of her.

- Terrified of commitment, because of how much the first death hurt. Despite this, he can't help but get attached to the party. Hates himself for it.

- Saw his own family, when he died in the finale. They gave him that hug he craved for so many years.

yeah I have so many more but this is already so long but thank you and congrats if you made it to the bottom, have an arrow 🏹

[morbidology]

Andrew Bagby was born in 1973 in the United States. He met Shirley Turner, a Canadian, while they were both studying medicine. The couple had a tumultuous and toxic relationship, leading to frequent arguments. After they broke up in late 2001, Turner, who was 12 years older than Andrew, drove from Iowa to Pennsylvania, where Andrew was completing his residency.

On November 5, 2001, Andrew was found shot to death in a parking lot at Keystone State Park in Pennsylvania. Evidence quickly pointed to Turner as the prime suspect, as she had traveled to confront Andrew the day of his murder. After the crime, she fled to Canada, where she would soon reveal that she was pregnant with Andrew's child.

While the extradition process to bring Turner back to the United States stalled in Canadian courts, she gave birth to Zachary Turner on July 18, 2002. Despite the gravity of the accusations against her, Turner was granted bail and allowed to retain custody of Zachary, a decision that would later prove deadly.

Andrew Bagby’s parents, David and Kathleen Bagby, moved to Canada and fought for custody of their grandson. They sought to protect Zachary, fearing Turner might harm him, given her violent past. Despite their efforts, Turner remained free on bail with her son under her care.

Tragically, their worst fears came to fruition on August 18, 2003, when Turner killed 13-month-old Zachary and herself in a murder-suicide. Turner drugged the child and jumped into the Atlantic Ocean, drowning them both. Her actions stunned the entire world, and ignited outrage over how she was allowed to remain free despite being accused of a horrific crime.

In the wake of the tragedy, a Canadian inquiry into Zachary’s death found significant failures in the legal and child welfare systems. It criticized the authorities for allowing Turner to be out on bail and for not prioritizing the safety of her child. The inquiry led to recommendations aimed at tightening bail requirements and improving child protection in similar situations.

In addition, Andrew Bagby’s parents wrote a book titled "Dance with the Devil: A Memoir of Murder and Loss", chronicling their devastating experiences. The case also inspired the award-winning documentary "Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father", directed by Andrew’s close friend Kurt Kuenne. The film highlighted the systemic flaws that allowed the tragedies to happen and served as a memorial to Andrew and Zachary.

[wrathofrats]

Seeing Blind (you’re too good to be all mine)

Chapter 6, 4.3k , mature, read under cut or on ao3

(Part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

A thank you to the ever wonderful @divine-misfortune for being my cowriter

“Swiss, I,” Dew opened his mouth with the partial intent of coming clean but Swiss fixed him with those big brown eyes and his heart cracked. “He seems to get all weak in the knees when you’re bold,” he offered instead and resisted the urge to cringe at his own cowardice with a feigned nonchalance, tossing the crust of his sandwich to a sparrow, “so why don’t you go be bold and tell him how you feel before he’s gone for good. Win him back or get yourself an answer then and there. Get yourself out of this limbo.”

Rain doesn’t leave the house for several days after his talk with Dew. Can’t bring himself to - doesn’t want to face any of them, let alone Swiss.

Hardly manages to leave his room. The dark circles under his eyes are not lost on any of them.

His dad reluctantly knocks on the door periodically through the days, gruff voice gone surprisingly gentle asking if he needs anything. He brings him dinner when Rain is absent from the table. His mother sweeps into his room and opens the drawn curtains in the mornings despite the fact she knows Rain will close them again not long after, always asking hopefully if he’d like to help her in town or baking or something else benign. It’s hard to see her smile falter when he makes up an excuse about needing to read a few chapters of some book or some essay to stay on track with his classes for when he returns to school.

School came more into focus as he wallowed, it was something he could blindly throw himself into. The upcoming semester was steadily approaching and coming to terms with leaving his home, and everyone, behind again was no easy task. Maybe getting away from the mess he’d made was best for him, and everyone else. He was never meant for farm life anyways - his mom always joked that he was born to be a city boy all his life, there seemed to be some truth to that now.

And as his sudden and abrupt absence dragged on, Swiss only grew more confused. It was almost like the few days Rain had avoided him after their first kiss but worse. The farmer’s son had plucked out his heart and ran off with it for real this time, and he wasn’t coming back.

Swiss had gotten a small glimpse of him one afternoon as he was washing the tractor, elbow deep in soapy water with half his shirt soaked. He hadn’t taken his lunch. He hadn’t been taking them for a while, too worried to eat and too guilty to continue the routine he and Rain had fallen into; splitting two lunches between them in the shade of the grain silo, Rain bringing him a cold drink daily and a sliver of whatever his mother might’ve baked on Fridays. The silo was out on the far side of the front yard, far enough from the house Swiss feared he might just miss catching a glimpse of him.

Judging by the slow creak of the back screen door two things were evident; Dew hadn’t oiled the hinges like he’d been asked to last week, and Rain had been counting on Swiss’ absence.

He looked worse for wear. Uncomfortable having to simply exist, but most of all, Rain looked tired. Dead on his feet. Like he’d simultaneously just woken up and skipped sleeping the last few nights. Practically dragged himself across the gravel driveway to the barn where he fought with the heavy wood doors.

Swiss wasn’t sure if Rain was pointedly avoiding looking at him or simply hadn’t noticed the farmhand peeking at him from beside the tire but either way he couldn’t take his eyes off Rain if he tried. Even as he continued to wipe the body down, mindlessly scrubbing the sponge over the same scuffed bit of paint. Seeing Rain hurt but looking away might’ve just killed him.

But Rain did eventually grow wise to the hopelessly yearning gaze cast in his direction. He froze like a deer in headlight, the color draining from his face - Swiss had never seen him paled like that, that soft pink flush had never left his cheeks when they were together. Neither of them spoke. Swiss didn’t call his name, as badly as he wanted to, and Rain didn’t say his in turn. No apology, no explanation, not even offering Swiss rejection. A range of emotions flitted across his face instead, the most prominent being grief and guilt, before he was retreating back to the cage he’d made for himself in that house. Going where Swiss could not follow.

The entire situation plays on repeat in Swiss’ mind. Over and over. He should have just gotten over his nerves, the stupid gentleman complex he had, and fucked him. It wasn’t like he didn’t want Rain, he did. He really did, bad. After all the weeks of constant teasing only to be pushed away and outright denied it only made sense that Rain was avoiding him now - in Rain’s mind, Swiss was either leading him on and playing with his innocent emotions or he didn’t want him at all.

It begins to eat away at him. Wearing guilt like a uniform as he drags himself through the overly long and unfulfilling days. He swallows it down for as long as he can until he simply can’t. Mountain unknowingly puts the crack in the dam, his concern hitting right at the weakest spot. It spills out of him before he even comprehends the words. For the first time, out loud, Swiss admits to his feelings. He’s more honest to him than he’d been ever since he and Rain first kissed. Confesses to just how much time they’ve spent together, and reluctantly tells them about the night that hadn’t left his mind.

”And I kissed him, and it just…We got carried away,” Swiss fidgets with a loose thread on his flannel, one of the buttons barely hanging on. Only when he glances down to the offending button does he realize it’s the dark green flannel he’d draped around Rain’s shoulders to keep him warm once upon a time. It felt like months ago. “Went pretty far and I knew he wanted to take it further but I stopped him.”

”You…Stopped him?” Dew paused, having been fiddling with the tab of his empty coke can as Swiss practically word-vomited on them. ”Why?”

”I don’t really know.” He laughed nervously, an involuntary sound that came out hollow. “He looked like a kicked puppy when I told him I didn’t think we were ready, that I didn’t think he was ready. Fucking hell, I’m pretty sure it sounded like I was handling him with kid gloves or some shit. Probably sounded like I didn’t want him.”

Mountain frowned. ‘The worried mom look’ as they all called it. He glanced sideways at Dew who’d popped the tab off his can finally, and Dew’s stomach sank. He knew exactly what Mountain was thinking - that he’d been right about Rain from the beginning. Nothing but a priss who barely tolerated the lot of them. Someone they should have protected Swiss from more proactively. It made his skin start to itch. Dew needed Mountain to stop looking at him. He needed Swiss to stop looking absolutely devastated.

He’d assumed the worst of Rain and his intentions. That Rain was using Swiss but how could he be using him if they’d never gotten that far? It’s not like he knew at the time - at least, that’s how Dew attempts to justify everything he said but it really doesn’t help. Fuck. Would Swiss understand if he told him? No, no Swiss wouldn’t forgive him for ruining something that affected him this deeply.

Jaw aching, he could feel his anxiety driven heartbeat in his clenched teeth. His molars might just crack, or he would. Something had to give.

Dew stared into his lap and shifted the food packed in his lunchbox like he was looking for something in particular despite the way his appetite had curled up and died. Swiss and Mountain continued to discuss, trying to find the root of the problem unknowingly sat uncharacteristically quiet three feet away. Every heartbroken word from Swiss was another nail in the coffin Dew dug for himself. The path to hell was always paved with good intention.

“You did what you thought was best, maybe you weren’t ready either.” Mountain flicked Swiss’ hand away from his flannel before he could actually tear the button off. “If he’s truly that upset then he needs to talk to you about it, not lock himself away. He will realize what he’s lost at some point.”

A chip fell out of the bag Dew was holding before he finally sighed and threw the rest to the birds. Salt and grease wouldn’t help him swallow this any easier, truth be told, everything was just helping to turn his stomach further. The truth sat like a lump in his throat, begging to be released. He just couldn’t decide if it was better to come forward and confess or pray Rain never divulged the things he’d said to him. Neither would play out well for him, he was more than aware. Dew was also aware of the fact Mountain wouldn’t save him from the consequences of these particular actions, might even turn a blind eye when Swiss inevitably jumps him with every ounce of bottled up hurt behind his closed fist.

“Swiss, I,” Dew opened his mouth with the partial intent of coming clean but Swiss fixed him with those big brown eyes and his heart cracked. “He seems to get all weak in the knees when you’re bold,” he offered instead and resisted the urge to cringe at his own cowardice with a feigned nonchalance, tossing the crust of his sandwich to a sparrow, “so why don’t you go be bold and tell him how you feel before he’s gone for good. Win him back or get yourself an answer then and there. Get yourself out of this limbo.”

He was trying to be a good friend now, he had been trying to be a good friend when he confronted Rain. Seems like he’s not very good at it. Swiss deserved better friends than him and that fact goes down just about as smooth as cough syrup. Dew couldn’t stand that sad expression much longer, and as much as it might just kill him to have Swiss learn the truth, maybe he could at least get Rain back in the process. Sugar to help Swiss swallow the bitter medicine of Dew’s indiscretion.

“But I don’t want to overwhelm him. You should have seen how he turned tail when he saw me the other day, I don’t want to chase him away.” Swiss sighed and rubbed both hands over his face.

Dew handed his now crustless, semi flattened sandwich to Mountain instead of tossing it to the birds. Chicken salad was bad for birds. ‘Borderline cannibalism’ Mountain had stressed to him in the middle of a lecture when he was caught throwing pieces of a different sandwich to some ducks one time. He’d had his fair share of guilt for the day.

“You really like him that much?”

“So much, Dew…More than I’ve ever liked anyone or anything.”

A pit opened in Dew’s stomach but he fought to grin. The smile Dew typically fixed him with before doing something mischievous.

“Go tell him that then.”

With a shallow breath Swiss nodded and hopped to his feet, Mountain following behind as he made his way to the barn leaving Dew to sit in contemplation.

Bold.

One of two things would come of this; Rain slips away and he walks away looking like a fool with wounded pride or Rain returns his affections. What did he have to lose? Either way, Rain would leave for college by the end of the summer and he couldn’t let him go without being truly honest with him, Rain deserved that much.

Fate was on his side, the stars had aligned. Wednesday was the one day of the week where he could count on Rain’s father being gone, restock day. He and the other farmhands dreaded it, usually left with aching backs and knees by the end of it after having to carry in countless bags of feed before they were allowed to clock off for the day. A routine they all knew well. Mountain went with. Big, strong, known favorite employee Mountain. It gave him a few hours to work with.

Like always, Mountain waved goodbye from the passenger side window and Swiss watched the truck disappear down the winding driveway with held breath. He counted to ten before turning and mumbling something to Dew about covering his ass. If the work wasn’t done by the time they got back they’d all get chewed out but Swiss needed to do this.

The house sat quiet aside from the buzz of the television as Rain sits on the edge of the couch folding towels, one of the few chores his parents could talk him into without much pushback as it didn’t involve stepping foot outside. The knock on the door came suddenly and urgently, and Rain nearly sent his neat stack of linen to the floor when he flinched. He fumbled over himself to get to his feet and hurry to the door. More often than not, if someone came to the door after his father left something was wrong, and fearing an emergency Rain swung the door open without so much as checking who was out there.

His heart swelled and sunk all at once. Gripping the doorknob Rain was frozen. He can’t retreat. Can’t bring himself to close the door in Swiss’ face even if he wanted to. Only with him standing there in front of him did Rain truly realize just how much he missed him. He fucking missed Swiss. It had been the loneliest he’d felt in years without him around. His eyes stung, the threat of tears barely kept at bay by a few rapid blinks.

”Hey…” Swiss started and Rain seemed to jolt out of his stupor, he put his hand on the door to stop him from closing it before he’d even made any move to do so. He knew it was a desperate, pushy thing to do. “Can I come in?”

“M-My dad will be back soon,” Rain tried to keep his voice level and his face neutral but the words came out whispered and wobbled. He swallowed thickly.

“No he won’t, he and Mountain just left. Please, I need to talk to you.” His gaze flicked away, catching Phantom and Cirrus both blatantly staring the two of them down from across the yard. He quickly tacked on a softer, “privately.”

Hesitantly, Rain stepped to the side and allowed Swiss in. Swiss’ shoulders sagged with a breath of relief as he crossed the threshold. Standing in his kitchen felt familiar but wrong at the same time, like he didn’t belong there. Rain quietly shut the door and retreated further into the kitchen to sit at the table, the plates from breakfast still laid out. He sits stiffly, hands folded in his lap. The tears collecting in his lashes betray his neutrality.

Neither of them spoke for a stretch of time that lasted far too long, both too stubborn and guilt ridden to break the palpable silence until it was too heavy to bear a moment longer.

“I’m sorry Rain, it wasn’t you I just was so wrapped up in-“

”I’m sorry, I never meant to make it feel like I thought poorly of you-“

The two blurted out in unison and ultimately trailed off into another widening gap between them. Swiss’ frown settled deeper and Rain bit his lower lip in some vain attempt to stop himself from crying but the tears spilled despite his efforts. All the lonely nights with only a growing numbness as his company had done well enough to bottle up everything, but with Swiss there in front of him, he couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“What…?” Swiss’ brow furrowed, moving from the chair across the table from him to the one directly beside him when he began to cry. “Rain, what are you talking about?” He pulled his hands from his lap, squeezing them gently.

“I’m not like that, I never thought I was, was,” he hiccuped and dropped his head to stare at how Swiss held him instead of meeting his eyes “I never thought I was better than any of you, I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m so sorry, Swiss. Never wanted you to think that, or that this was some little fling. This wasn’t just a play for attention or anything, I swear.”

Every word felt like another knife in his ribs, urging him to curl in on himself like a sobbing child. He just couldn’t stop the words from pouring out, a proverbial waterfall of admission. He could see just how bad it must have looked - Swiss didn’t fuck him so he turns his nose up at him and the other farmhands after the princess didn’t get what he wanted. It could have only served to cement the idea of all of this being for his own gain and entertainment.

“Tadpole, what are you talking about?”

”Dew, he, he-“ Another hitch in his voice, “talked to me…Told me to stop messing around with you, and that you all thought I was uptight and snobby and that I was using you.” His head snapped up and he’s suddenly holding Swiss that much tighter, like he might pull away. “Swiss, I’m not. I promise I’m not, would never. I love you more than the attention or sex or-“ Rain was beyond the point of babbling, probably didn’t even realize he’d dropped the L-word.

If not for the sentence it was set in, his heart might’ve stuttered in his chest, but something hot and sharp began creeping up his throat instead. Anger and betrayal tasted sour in his mouth. Barely tempered.

“Dew told you what?”

The silence was beyond damning. More than enough confirmation. If not for how tight Rain held him or the tears pouring freely down his face he might have gotten up and stalked out to the fields to wring the truth from his skinny little neck. But Rain had been out of reach for so long, he wouldn’t dream of leaving him. Dew was what pulled them apart, he wouldn’t let it happen again. Rain was his priority.

“I- oh darling. I never thought that about you. Not even for a second. Figured you were sticking around for more than just my good looks when you willingly subjected yourself to sleeping in hay on more than one occasion.”

Rain gave a small laugh, grabbing a napkin from the center of the table to wipe his eyes. It was something at least.

“Dew is just, er…He’s suspicious of people he doesn’t know, and over protective of the ones he does. Doesn’t know you like I do though, none of them do. Couldn’t hope to understand how I feel about you.” The anger becomes easier to shove down with every soft stroke of his thumb over the back of Rain’s hands.

He has Rain again. He has Rain and there was nothing wrong between them anymore and he has Rain.

The tension leaves both of their postures, the quiet was easier to sit in without so much pressing down on them.

“Swiss…” Rain started somewhat shyly. “How do you feel about me?

It’s a question that should have a simple answer, ‘I love you’, but it didn’t quite answer it fully. Conceptually, yes. He loved Rain. But it didn’t feel like enough. Words didn’t feel like enough. Swiss had meant it, he’d never liked anyone the way he liked Rain.

“Askin’ the hard hitting questions there, Rainy.” He chuckled, meeting Rain’s expectant gaze. If only he could just lay his heart out there for Rain to see, it’d be easier. “…Do you remember the night we laid in the bed of my truck instead of the loft?”

“When we watched the stars?”

”Yeah, yeah. Remember how absolutely fascinated you were by them? Just in awe of how the constellations told stories, how you could tell the time, the season, the direction, all just by looking at them?”

”Of course I do, it was beautiful out there.”

“You couldn’t stop staring at them all night, watched you struggle not to fall asleep so you could savor them a little bit longer. Wonderstruck by each and every little dot in the sky, really seeing them for the first time.”

He tipped his head, “what does this have to do with how you feel about me?”

“Well, raindrop,” Swiss brought one of his hands up and kissed his knuckles. “That’s how you make me feel…Hopelessly in awe of you.”

His mouth opened but all he managed was a weak laugh while shaking his head, looking anywhere but Swiss’ face. Bashful. Beautiful. “You don’t mean that.”

Swiss turned him back towards him, cheek heating up underneath his palm. There it was. The only way he could possibly describe the way Swiss looked at him - nothing short of adoration.

“Barely looked at the sky that night, I couldn’t stop looking at you. Every night, every time I had you in my arms all I wanted was to look at you.” He chuckled nervously. Nobody warned him of how nerve wracking this would be. The movies made it look so easy. “You drive me fucking crazy Rainy. Got me feeling like a lovestruck fool when you’re around and a lost puppy when you’re not.”

Rain was a new shade of red. Nothing like the pinks he’d seen before, even when he had his mouth latched onto his throat and Rain was singing like a canary.

“C’mon…Say something.” His confidence wavered without any sort of response. “Tell me I’m not stupid.” It felt like he was begging for confirmation he wasn’t positively delusional. ”Tell me you feel something for me.”

”I do,” he rested his hand over Swiss’, leaning his cheek into his palm. “I never knew I could like someone so much.”

Air rushed back into his lungs as Swiss remembered to breathe, that he even knew he could breathe to begin with. A real lovestruck fucking fool.

“Fuck - you just, you make me feel alive. Swiss, all I’ve done during every break since I started college is come home and read. Stay in my room and study, wait to be told what to do, do the bare minimum to help out around the farm, and wait. I wait to go back to my dorm where I sit and I study and I wait to be told what I need to do before I drive hours home to do it all over again.” His face had almost become a grimace, recounting the routine he’d repeated for years out loud, but it softened out again when he refocused on Swiss. “Don’t think I’ve had fun like this in…I don’t know, like, forever. Haven’t felt hopeful about anything in even longer.”

Somehow, he managed to sit still despite the giddy excitement blooming and bursting inside him. He was pretty sure he could pass out. For the last two summers Swiss had been making heart eyes at Rain from afar, hoping for a chance he never thought would come. Before this summer, they’d had their small interactions. Not a whole lot of anything but it was something - a little banter here, a snide comment from either of them there, brief run ins that he’d been certain Rain brushed off and forgotten directly after parting. Swiss had loved every second of it, it always got his heart beating a little faster, he just didn’t know how deep his love for Rain really ran at the time.

“You were my first kiss y’know…” Rain admitted quietly like it was some shameful secret but the nervous, near bumbling reaction had given Rain’s innocence away within the first three seconds. Swiss decided not to tell him that, focusing instead on the little rush of pride that came with it.

“Yeah..? Was I memorable?” His grin is dopey, he knows it is. Can’t help it.

Flushing all the way to the tips of his ears, Rain made a little annoyed sound that turned into a laugh as he shoved Swiss’ hands away. He got up and Swiss did the same. His hands don’t stay away long, not when Swiss had every reason to possibly touch him.

“Maybe. Could have been, dunno. It’s been a while.”

”Need me to jog your memory then, darling?”

“Mm…Might have to.”

Whatever impossibly heavy and strange fog had drifted over them was finally dissipating. Waved away. He felt lighter, they felt lighter. More at ease, more so with each other. Rain hands don’t even shake as they slide up Swiss’s chest to wrap his arms around his neck, only letting out a surprised little ‘oh!’ as Swiss drew him to his chest. Eager to be close to him. He’d quietly yearned to feel him again from the second he’d slipped out of bed that morning, not entirely in a physical sense, aching for the pure intimacy of it.

Kissing him felt like dreaming. Slow, sweet, like they had all the time in the world even though the clock was steadily ticking on from its place above the stove. It didn’t matter. Their lips had always seemed to fit together so easily. Even easier was the way Rain’s fingers started to sneak into his locs. A silent plea for more, to be closer, to never let him go.

But they had to come up for air sometime. Swiss was the one to break apart, allowing him to catch Rain with his eyes still closed, bliss woven in his face. He wanted to keep him like that forever. His eyes flutter open and his delicate expression turns into the cutest pout that manages to tug on his heartstrings ever so slightly.

“Heeey…” He whined, rocking up onto his toes to steal another. All he gets is a peck.

”Gotta go before your dad gets back, lover boy.” Swiss grinned down at him, tapping him on the nose as he slipped from his arms. “You still remember where you can find me, princess?”

For that, Swiss earned a little shove against his chest and a proper fitting laugh. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling if he tried.

[maxdibert]

And that is precisely the worst reason, because just as they could choose to exercise violence, they could also choose not to, but they opted for the first choice. We can’t forget the reason behind that power: their power came from the lack of consequences for their actions and the certainty that there would be no serious repercussions. James and Sirius knew they could attack Severus because he was someone without a family name, blood status, or financial resources. No one was going to defend him, no one cared about him, he wasn’t important among his peers, and he didn’t have present parents. He had no money, no influence—he was a nobody.

And they weren’t nobodies. They had all of that. James knew his parents would do anything for him, and while Sirius came from a bad household, Walburga would never have allowed her son to be humiliated—even if only to flaunt the power of the Black family and preserve their image. They had a safety net; Severus didn’t. So they could do whatever they wanted to him. If that hadn’t been the case, they would’ve picked on Mulciber or Rosier or any other Slytherin. But they didn’t—because they couldn’t. Those kids came from good families with resources, and their actions would’ve had consequences. So James and Sirius weren’t interested. Sure, they might’ve played a prank on them once or insulted them, but there was no prolonged bullying, no targeted abuse, because if they’d done that, they’d have gotten into trouble. With Severus, they had free rein—and that’s the most sinister part of it all: they went after him because he was defenseless.

They could have chosen not to do it. They could’ve been like many other popular boys and girls with social influence who don’t go out of their way to torment others. They could’ve chosen not to be violent, but they didn’t want to. I was part of a popular group in my school, and there were kids with a lot of money whose parents were important people, and they didn’t go around tormenting anyone. People can choose not to be terrible human beings—especially people like James, who had no trauma or underlying reasons to explain his behavior beyond being a violent, narcissistic jerk.

James was raised in a loving, progressive family, surrounded by care and privilege. His duty was to choose not to be violent, yet he decided to become a despicable, classist bully. Even Sirius has a backstory that makes his sociopathic tendencies somewhat understandable, but James? He’s just a fragile, egotistical jerk who couldn’t stand someone else getting close to the girl he liked, and because that someone turned out to be an easy target, he chose to torture him—even after he “got” the girl. Honestly, I find him a despicable character in every sense.

I also completely agree with everything you said. When people talk about Severus being resentful and violent, they tend to equate him with James and this supposed “change” James underwent that we never see or have any evidence of. But people often forget what I said earlier: James had no reason to be a jerk. His whole life was easy. He was filthy rich, adored by his parents, and after finishing school, he no longer ran into Severus in the halls, so he had no one to torment.

Meanwhile, Severus faced violence at home and at school. He endured teachers (the people responsible for his well-being) ignoring the bullying he suffered, even telling him to stay quiet when he was almost killed. He lived in a house full of supremacists as a half-blood, constantly having to prove he deserved to be there despite his status. He had no financial safety net to fall back on if things went wrong. He was groomed by members of a cult. He was groomed, emotionally manipulated, and had his insecurities and traumas exploited by Dumbledore. Very few people could have endured Severus’s life without ending up taking their own life.

People completely disregard his context. Sure, he had a horrible personality, but his life was horrible too. It’s not like he had many other options.

“I was bullied in school and didn’t turn out like Snape.”

Well, that argument works both ways. I was never bullied in school—in fact, I’d say I was part of a group of people considered “cool,” and not once in our lives did we go around picking on others, either verbally or physically. Nor were we going around drawing attention to ourselves with jokes that only appealed to the intellectually challenged. So, I don’t know, this whole “kids will be kids” thing doesn’t sit right with me because I was in that position, and I was never that childish. Neither were my friends. If we’re going to personalize the argument without considering the characters’ context, then let’s all do it, right?

The ironic part is that the same people who endlessly excuse the Marauders are exactly the kind of people the Marauders would have bullied relentlessly, and the fact that they genuinely don’t see it is… I don’t know whether to find it sad, pathetic, or both.

[juniorfor2]

Anyone else get the feeling that a lot of the Team Green people who are loving the HOTD adaption are really just conservative or weird liberal Catholics/Christians who loved the fantasy and action parts of the books but hated how much their F&B parallel got called out for its hypocrisy and (what is essentially) colonization practices. So now they are using the adaptation to back up all of their ideas about Team Green - who follow the Faith of the Seven/Catholic parallel - and prove that their actions are ok simply because “that’s what their god has told them.”

Bastardphobia? Hatred of queerness or non-modest acts? Attempts to stamp out any sign of “false gods”? All are parallels to the hatred and bigotry of a lot of modern Catholics or conservatives, who try to justify their actions by telling themselves that they have no choice because of their religion.

And because HOTD doesn’t just allow these beliefs, but also actively encourages them, it’s seems as if people feel like they can now absolve themselves for their own actions through Team Green and its ideology/practices.

[downsteepy]

i am very grateful that im not someone that has to deal with daily seizures but it is evil when it takes like a week and a half's worth of business days to recover from a seizure

[idol-emu-otori-official-archived]

╰┈➤ SHUFFLE AU

DESTINATION POINT (DP)

the Leo/need adjacent unit, composed of Ichika Hoshino, Airi Momoi, Ena Shinonome, and Minori Hanasato. ☆ a girl who's lost her friendships, and three others searching for their worth.

about the group's name: ♡ originally, i had "from here to there" in mind, but someone from the Discord gave me the name "destination point" and i thought it was much better, so i went with that. ♪

about the SEKAI: ♡ the Train SEKAI. no one knows when it left, or where it's going - just that it never stops. it's the perfect place for those who feel like they're lagging behind. just close your eyes and let yourself be carried away, right? but maybe there's something you can do… starts with a Miku and a Rin. the former's hardworking and talented, but the latter struggles - Rin is somewhat influenced by Ena's (and, to a lesser extent, Airi's) jealousy towards others.

•

Ichika hasn't managed to rekindle her friendship with her friends, and she's not doing particularly well. At one point, she meets Airi - who just quit being an idol. The two start talking and become friends, at which point they end up forming a band together. Airi wants to try finding a place where she could finally be taken seriously.

Ena's invited by Airi, and Minori - who had failed auditions recently - ends up inspired by Ichika's kindness, Airi's drive and Ena's determination, which is how she joins. (Haruka completely gave up on being an idol; something Minori is saddened by.)

In my mind, Ichika plays the guitar; Airi, the drums; Minori, the keyboard and Ena, the bass.

-

IDEAL HEAVEN! (IH)

the MORE MORE JUMP! adjacent unit, composed of Mafuyu Asahina, Emu Otori, Mizuki Akiyama and Shizuku Hinomori. ☆ an up-and-coming idol group that combines cuteness and sophistication.

about the SEKAI: ♡ quite similar to the Empty SEKAI, but with some idol influences - a broken stage with no one in sight. there's no bright lights, no colorful props. nothing. that SEKAI both comforts and pains Mafuyu. home to a lone Miku. sweet, hopeful, but genuinely crushed by the pressure she's feeling.

•

Mafuyu's mother wants a perfect child. idols are very frequently represented as being perfect - so, she decides that her daughter should become one, too. Mafuyu's not keen on the idea, but that's her mother; she's obedient, so she goes along with it.

Shizuku still quit Cheerful * Days, but instead of stopping altogether she ends up with Mafuyu. Emu wants to make people smile, but no one ever came; Wonderlands × Showtime was never a thing. so she decides to become an idol instead, even if it means she'll never bring back the Wonder Stage to its former state.

Mizuki's half-dragged into IDEAL HEAVEN! by Emu, who saw them looking with interest at idol merch. after bringing them to meet Mafuyu and Shizuku, Mizuki ends up accepting - the idea of wearing cute clothes and being called cute doesn't seem too terrible.

-

READY MADE SUCCESS (RMS)

the Vivid BAD SQUAD adjacent unit, composed of Haruka Kiritani, An Shiraishi, Shiho Hinomori and Akito Shinonome. ☆ two street musicians chasing after their dream, and the two girls they brought with them.

about the SEKAI: ♡ the Street SEKAI. weirdly, it seems Haruka's idol background has somewhat influenced its appearance. its inhabitants are Miku, Meiko and Len. this Miku is levelheaded, but it seems like there's something holding her back from going all-in...

•

after quitting being an idol, Haruka is invited by An to join her.

An's never met Kohane, and she never found a partner. Haruka is hesitant for a moment before deciding to give it a shot, though she keeps struggling with singing. Shiho tries getting more experience, meets Akito. no one really knows how these two ended together, but they both have a similar drive and take music very seriously.

eventually, they all start working together. Haruka deals with her guilt and, while she doubts she'll become an idol again, she's mostly made peace with what happened.

-

STARLIGHT ☆ EVERMORE (S ☆ E)

the Wonderlands × Showtime adjacent unit, composed of Tsukasa Tenma, Saki Tenma, Kanade Yoisaki and Toya Aoyagi. ☆ a strange troupe of people who aim to help others through their performances.

about the SEKAI: ♡ still very much Tsukasa's, so it's the Wonderland SEKAI. [kanade goes there for the first time and dies. alas, they're still a shut-in and this place is simply too colorful for her poor eyes.] starts with a Miku and a Kaito, though this version of the former uses far less onomatopoeias.

Tsukasa figures he needs to show the world how much of a star he is himself, and he drags his siblings into it (with varying degrees of willingness).

a part of Saki still wishes she could be in a band with her friends; she's only somewhat managed to repair her friendship with Ichika. but she's still happy to do something fun and lighthearted after all her struggles. Toya's very excited to do something with Tsukasa and his siblings. he also gets to stick it to his dad, which, honestly - is a bonus.

out of the three, Kanade is obviously the most hesitant about the whole thing. but she sees Tsukasa's drive to make others happy, something she shares with him, so she ends up agreeing. Kanade is… slightly healthier physically on account of the stubborn people looking after her, as well as all the exercise she does she does as part of Starlight ☆ Evermore. mentally? eh… we'll get there. i need her traumatized to be interesting. <3

-

LONELY SYNDROME (LS)

the 25-ji, Nightcord de. adjacent unit, composed of Nene Kusanagi, Rui Kamishiro, Honami Mochizuki and Kohane Azusawa. ☆ hidden behind avatars, these citizens of the web tell stories online.

about the SEKAI: ♡ the arcade SEKAI. this Miku is shy and withdrawn, though she one day hopes she'll be able to break out of her shell, just like Nene. alongside her is Luka - she has a bit of a teasing attitude and a catlike personality, but she always does her best to boost Nene's confidence.

about the group's name: ♡ syndrome refers to a group of symptoms - i paired it with the word lonely because i felt like it represented the atmosphere of an arcade. you're connected with people who share your interests, but at the same time, you're sort of separate from them. surrounded by people, but utterly alone…

•

Nene's social anxiety hasn't gotten better over the years. since she never joins Wonderlands × Showtime, she doesn't learn how to fight her stage fright.

but, she finds an alternate solution; using an avatar online. it's less stress-inducing, and it lets her pursue acting, in a way - it's not what Nene wants, but it's close enough. she figures she could be satisfied with that. Rui ends up figuring out what she's doing, and asks if he can help. Nene doesn't really have any reason to say no, so they start working together.

as for Honami and Kohane, they ended up on Nene's channel by pure accident. but her performances quickly became a comfort to them, since they were struggling at the time (the former because she no longer had her friends, the latter because of her lack of confidence).

unfortunately, ignoring your problems only goes so far, and eventually, her feelings give birth to the arcade SEKAI.