#do I fully agree? not necessarily. but I do think about it a lot

[kulapti]

Oct 2023, pen & inks. Grass is not all the same.

Many people don't know that grasslands have fall colors. This is partly because over 75% of the prairie habitat on the North American continent has been destroyed by agriculture, systematic destruction, and more recently by urban sprawl. We have less than 1% of historic tallgrass prairie remaining. Please learn about these beautiful and rare spaces to help them, and if you get the chance, go see a prairie in national grassland or in a state or national park.

Aside from the sparkly ink, this illustration has a narrower color range than the Red Hills mixedgrass prairie it represents.

Species: Little bluestem (S. scoparium), big bluestem (A. gerardii), maidenhair (Sporobolus sp.), sideoats grama (B. curtipendula), blooming prairie blazing star (Liatris sp.), and the late season remnants of basketflower (Centaurea americana) and dwarf four-nerve daisy (Tetraneuris linearifolius).

[inkskinned]

one of the things that i think we should pay attention to, socially, about the disney v. desantis thing is that it is really highlighting the importance of remembering nuance.

in a purely neutral sense, if you engage in something problematic, that does not mean you are necessarily agreeing with what makes it problematic. and i am worried that we have become... so afraid of any form of nuance.

disney isn't my friend, they're a corporate monopoly that bastardized copyright laws for their own benefit, ruin the environment, and abuse their workers (... and many other things). this isn't a hypothetical for me - i grew up in florida. i also worked for the actual Walt Disney World; like, in the parks. i am keenly aware of the ways they hurt people, because they hurt me. i fully believe that part of the reason florida is so conservative is because it's been an "open secret" for years now that disney lobbies the government to keep minimum wage down, and i know they worked hard to keep the parks unmasked and open during the worst parts of Covid. they purposefully keep their employees in poverty. they are in part responsible for the way the floridian government works.

desantis is still, by a margin that is frankly daunting, way worse. the alternative here isn't just "republicans win", it's actual fascism.

in a case like this, where the alternative is to allow actual fascism into united states legislation - where, if desantis wins, there are huge and legal ramifications - it's tempting to minimize the harm disney is also doing, because... well, it's not fascism. but disney isn't the good guy, either, which means republicans are having a field day asking activists oh, so you think their treatment of their employees is okay?

we have been trained there is a right answer. you're right! you're in the good group, and you're winning at having an opinion.

except i have the Internet Prophecy that in 2-3 months, even left-wing people will be ripping apart activists for having "taken disney's side". aren't i an anti-capitalist? aren't i pro-union? aren't i one of the good ones? removed from context and nuance (that in this particular situation i am forced to side with disney, until an other option reveals itself), my act of being like "i hope they have goofy rip his throat out onstage, shaking his lifeless body like a dog toy" - how quickly does that seem like i actually do support disney?

and what about you! at home, reading this. are you experiencing the Thought Crime of... actually liking some of the things disney has made? your memories of days at the parks, or of good movies, or of your favorite show growing up. maybe you are also evil, if you ever enjoyed anything, ever, at all.

to some degree, the binary idealization/vilification of individual motive and meaning already exists in the desantis case. i have seen people saying not to go to the disney pride events because they're cash grabs (they are). i've seen people saying you have to go because they're a way to protest. there isn't a lot of internet understanding of nuance. instead it's just "good show of support" or "evil bootlicking."

this binary understanding is how you can become radicalized. when we fear nuance and disorder, we're allowing ourselves the safety of assuming that the world must exist in binary - good or bad, problematic or "not" problematic. and unfortunately, bigots want you to see the world in this binary ideal. they want you to get mad at me because "disney is taking a risk for our community but you won't sing their praises" and they want me to get mad at you for not respecting the legit personal trauma that disney forced me through.

in a grander scheme outside of disney: what happens is a horrific splintering within activist groups. we bicker with each other about minimal-harm minimal-impact ideologies, like which depiction of bisexuality is the most-true. we gratuitously analyze the personal lives of activists for any sign they might be "problematic". we get spooked because someone was in a dog collar at pride. we wring our hands about setting an empty shopping mall on fire. we tell each other what words we may identify ourselves by. we get fuckin steven universe disk horse when in reality it is a waste of our collective time.

the bigots want you to spend all your time focusing on how pristine and pretty you and your interests are. they want us at each other's throats instead of hand in hand. they want to say see? nothing is ever fucking good enough for these people.

and they want their followers to think in binary as well - a binary that's much easier to follow. see, in our spaces, we attack each other over "proper" behavior. but in bigoted groups? they attack outwards. they have someone they hate, and it is us. they hate you, specifically, and you are why they have problems - not the other people in their group. and that's a part of how they fucking keep winning.

some of the things that are beloved to you have a backbone in something terrible. the music industry is a wasteland. the publishing industry is a bastion of white supremacy. video games run off of unpaid labor and abuse.

the point of activism was always to bring to light that abuse and try to stop it from happening, not to condemn those who engage in the content that comes from those industries. "there is no ethical consumption under late capitalism" also applies to media. your childhood (and maybe current!) love of the little mermaid isn't something you should now flinch from, worried you'll be a "disney adult". wanting the music industry to change for the better does not require that you reject all popular music until that change occurs. you can acknowledge the harm something might cause - and celebrate the love that it has brought into your life.

we must detach an acknowledgment of nuance from a sense of shame and disgust. we must. punishing individual people for their harmless passions is not doing good work. encouraging more thoughtful, empathetic consumption does not mean people should feel ashamed of their basic human capacities and desires. it should never have even been about the individual when the corporation is so obviously the actual evil. this sense that we must live in shame and dread of our personal nuances - it just makes people bitter and hopeless. do you have any idea how scared i am to post this? to just acknowledge the idea of nuance? that i might like something nuanced, and engage in it joyfully? and, at the same time, that i'm brutally aware of the harm that they're doing?

"so what do i do?" ... well, often there isn't a right answer. i mean in this case, i hope mickey chops off ron's head and then does a little giggle. but truth be told, often our opinions on nuanced subjects will differ. you might be able to engage in things that i can't because the nuance doesn't sit right with me. i might think taylor swift is a great performer and a lot of fun, and you might be like "raquel, the jet fuel emissions". we are both correct; neither of us have any actual sway in this. and i think it's important to remember that - the actual scope of individual responsibility. like, i also love going to the parks. Thunder Mountain is so fun. you (just a person) are not responsible for the harm that Disney (the billion dollar corporation) caused me. i don't know. i think it's possible to both enjoy your memories and interrogate the current state of their employment policies.

there is no right way to interrogate or engage with nuance - i just hope you embrace it readily.

[barcaatthemoon]

two become one || bruna vilamala x reader ||

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead

you have sex for the first time with bruna.

you felt like a madwoman running around like a headless chicken. seven months. you and bruna had been together for seven months already. the question of sex had come up, but neither of you had lived on your own until now. you loved your girlfriend's roommates, but they were always there in some capacity. as for you, it was not at all possible to even attempt sex while you were living at home. that was why you were so nervous to have bruna over for the first time to your new apartment.

there was no guarantee for sex. bruna knew that you had never gotten that far with anybody, not fully at least. there had been a lot of makeouts with past partners and a bit of over-the-clothes grinding. bruna had a bit of experience, but had admitted that a lot of things were very new to her. essentially, it was like the first time for the both of you.

all that had been agreed upon was that bruna was staying the night. you had a plan that didn't necessarily include sex, but you had prepared for it. bruna had dropped a couple of hints as well, but you could tell that she was too nervous to outright say that she wanted it from you.

dinner had been light. you didn't talk much, both of you absolutely entranced by the reality tv show that you'd been binging together. after dinner the two of you continued to watch your show until bruna asked to see more of your apartment. you happily gave her a tour, which ended with the two of you curling up in your new bed.

"i can't wait to hang out with you here all the time," bruna said as she rested her head against your shoulder. you casually had your arm slung around her waist, tracing little patterns on her hip. it was nice, and either one of you could have fallen asleep in that moment. however, both of your minds were racing at the thought of going further. it would be so easy, just a slip of your hand beneath her waistband to get things started.

"i can't wait to have you here. you can stay over more without the fear of us getting interrupted." bruna blushed at your words. you hadn't meant staying over after sex, but it seemed that the shoe fit. your brain caught up a bit slower than bruna's did, and she laughed at your late reaction. "i didn't mean it like that…"

"it would have been okay if you did. most relationships get there eventually. jana and esme have been asking about that. even vicky is getting curious, but alexia usually shuts her questions down early. i think she's kind of afraid that i'll corrupt you or something," bruna laughed nervously. she had thought about that a lot. alexia was nice to her, but it was obvious that there was a bit of strain whenever your relationship was brought up. the captain was protective of you, she always had been. your family had moved from her hometown so that you could play for barcelona.

"what do you tell them?" it wasn't a question that you wanted to ask, but you were curious. there was nothing to tell really, but you wondered sometimes. some of the girls made jokes whenever they saw the two of you together. you'd always run away blushing, often leaving bruna to stand up for the both of you. you didn't mean to, but a part of you felt embarrassed for not having had sex with bruna yet.

"i don't tell them anything, it's none of their business. we will take the steps whenever we're ready," bruna answered. you cracked a small smile as you pressed a kiss to bruna's forehead. bruna glanced up at you for a moment, and you swore that you could see how much she loved you. it was scary sometimes, to love and open yourself up to being loved. there was always the nagging voice in the back of your head reminding you that you hadn't completely opened yourself up to bruna yet.

there had been times when the two of you had gotten close to sex. usually, they were interrupted by either one of her roommates or a member of your family. one time, whenever the two of you had gone out with the rest of the team, alexia had walked into the bathroom to find you with bruna pinned against the wall by the door. that one had been so mortifying that you hadn't accepted another offer to go clubbing with the rest of the team.

"is this okay?" bruna asked as her hands hovered over your waist. it was a bit higher than where she normally placed them, but that wasn't why she was asking. your shirt had ridden up a bit, and her hands would burrow beneath it to rest against your bare skin.

"yeah, of course," you told her. bruna smiled up at you as she placed her hand down. her fingertips brushed against the elastic band of your sports bra, but neither of you mentioned it. you reached down to cradle her jaw as you pulled her up for a kiss.

kissing bruna was your absolute favorite thing to do. you loved everything from the little taste of her chapstick that was always left on the tip of your tongue to the little whine she'd give you when you pulled away. this kiss was no different than the other ones that you had shared, aside from the extra vigor from bruna. she moved to straddle you, her hands fully pushing up your torso until she held your breasts in them.

"it's not too much, is it?" bruna asked you. you were too caught up in the feeling of her hands on your body and the way that her breath felt against your cheek to care about anything else. this wasn't the closest that the two of you had gotten to sex before, but it had never felt so possible before. you hadn't wanted her like you did in this moment.

"i don't think that it's enough. bruna, i want you to take me," you told her. bruna's eyes widened like saucers with excitement. she wanted to ask if you were sure, but bruna knew better. there had been no hesitation with you, just full confidence. "please. it feels right."

"i love you, and i promise that i'm not just saying that because of you know…" bruna trailed off as she motioned between the two of you.

"i know, and i love you too," you told her. bruna pushed you back down against the mattress fully once again with a kiss. she briefly broke it to pull her shirt off. bruna knew that she didn't have to, but she wanted to lead the way for you. she was the one with more experience, she was the one who had been naked in front of another person like this. you had always been a bit nervous changing in the locker room, and while this was different, it was also scarier.

"here," bruna said as she took your hand and placed it on her stomach. your fingers spread out wide before you inched your hand up to touch her like she had touched you before. bruna noticed the way that your hand stalled, almost like you were waiting for her to tell you what to do next. "have you ever touched yourself?"

"once or twice," you admitted. bruna tilted your chin up and pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw.

"touch me like that," she told you. your brain blanked for a moment before you finally made another move. you brought your other hand up to push her bra up and off of her body. bruna let out a little shiver as the cool air of your bedroom hit her bare skin. "can i take your shirt off?"

"you can take everything off if you'd like," you told her. it felt a little eager, but you really wanted bruna to touch you. you wanted to feel her in every way possible, every way she'd let you.

bruna moved off of you and the two of you both stripped yourselves. bruna had seen you naked before in the showers, but it was different in your bedroom. she felt her throat go dry as you turned to her with your body on full display. you weren't the least bit shy, which absolutely amazed bruna. even she had felt a little awkward showing herself to you like this.

"should we go back to the bed?" you asked. bruna nodded, letting you lay down first. bruna laid next to you, unsure of where to put her hands. like she had done for you, you placed hers on your body. that seemed to be all that bruna needed to take charge again.

her hands were gentle as they explored your body. most of the touches weren't too different from things that you had felt before. bruna liked to hold onto you whenever the two of you did little things together. however, it was the feeling of her fingers brushing over your nipples that really seemed to shock your system.

you let out a soft that very obviously surprised you. bruna seemed to get a little giddy at the sound you let out and slotted her knee in between your legs. this new contact caused you to moan again, but this time, bruna's mouth was waiting to cover yours and seemingly swallow it up.

"bruna, please." you didn't know what you were begging for yet, just that you wanted more. bruna smiled into the next kiss as she settled more of her weight down. this time, she rolled her hips as she let you grind against her. you were so lost in your own pleasure that you failed to notice the growing wetness of bruna's cunt as she ground against your thigh at first.

"kiss me." bruna didn't give you a chance to answer as she cupped your cheeks. you let yourself be pulled into the kiss, a messy and desperate attempt to cover up the sounds of her moans. you moved your legs just a bit, spreading yourself wider for her.

"i want you to touch me," you mumbled against her lips. bruna nodded as she let one of her hands fall in between your legs. bruna kept herself grinding down against your thigh as her fingers teasingly ran through your folds. bruna collected a bit of wetness on her fingers and brought it up to her own lips to taste. she let out a moan at the taste of you as she ground herself down particularly hard against your thigh.

the strokes of bruna's fingers between your folds synced up perfectly with the rutting of her hips against your thigh. she was working quickly to try and get both of you to cum at the same time. the wetness you felt against your skin from her arousal had you practically dripping onto your new sheets. you didn't know that it was possible for you to even get so wet.

"bruna, i'm close," you whined. you clawed at her arm, but didn't make any moves to stop her or slow her down. if anything, you started to get antsy, shifting your hips to meet her a little more than you had been doing before. bruna's eyes stayed on your face, holding eye contact with an intense stare as she watched you cum.

you looked away first as your orgasm tore through you. your body shook beneath bruna's, muscles flexing to allow her to hit the perfect spot. her peak quickly followed yours, both of you coming down around the same time. bruna dropped her weight partially onto you as she laid flat against the mattress. she kept an arm around your waist and her legs entangled in yours.

"can i tell you something?" you asked her.

"please don't tell me that you expected more," bruna pleaded with you.

"i love you, and i'm not just saying it because of the sex. i really do love you so much. sometimes, i want to cry when i think about it," you admitted. the sex was clearing your head out in a way that only left the mushiest, sappiest of thoughts. you felt like you had to get it off your chest.

"i love you too. i don't know if i've ever wanted to cry because of it, but i know that i couldn't bare to think about losing you," bruna said. she pulled you in for a kiss, one that had you melting against the mattress once again. "now, i know that you want to lay here forever, but there are some things we have to do first. if you go start the shower, i'll put the sheets in the washer."

"i should have bought an extra set," you muttered to yourself. bruna chuckled as she watched you groan and grumble all the way to your bathroom. she was quick to put the sheets in the wash, eager to join you in the shower. it wasn't as nice as laying around with bruna for the rest of the night, but you were glad that bruna had the sense to do the little things when you didn't.

[n3ptoonz]

Hello! Can you write Baraka, Syzoth, Kenshi and Liu Kang reacting to an s/o who likes to trace their tattoos. (Also tattoos are hot)

hiya and i certainly can anon! (i fully agree. whenever i see THAT raiden skin i literally want to jump through a closed window)

mk1 hcs: how baraka, syzoth, kenshi, and liu kang react to their s/o tracing their tattoos

warnings: none; fluff

Baraka

Would be confused at first. He had lost most of his sense of humanity since his affliction, so he'd think you just got bored or wanted his attention

When you explained how his tats were interesting and wanted to know the reasons/origins of them, he was genuinely surprised. Nobody has ever asked him such a thing, let alone pay that much attention to him or his tattoos

Now he doesn't mind it and lets you do as you please. He purposely wears sleeveless shirts around you all the time just so you'll get the idea to trace his tats later

Syzoth

Since the first noticeable tattoo is on his face, he'd get startled the first time you did it. You were waiting for him to wake up one day and became interested in them suddenly

He'd ask what's so cool about tattoos in the first place since he's not originally human. It's not that he doesn't value them, but to him they are more important in the sense of they reminded him of his family (i made that shit up don't quote me), not necessarily "cool" and you had to explain you took interest in all the above

Now he fully welcomes it and would probably go as far as being around you more often to get you to notice and engage in some form of physical touch that ends up in tracing his tattoos

Kenshi Takahashi

I feel like sometimes he didn't like his own tats. Being a former Yakuza and all, he wouldn't get why you think they're cool. You tell him despite their origin they objectively look really cool and make him look even cooler/finer and now he's a happy camper

Whatever his thoughts were slowly vanished out of his own mind. Though he can't really see them anymore, he likes that someone he's in love with is for one not scared away by his past but also thinks they make him look cooler? After a while he'd start appreciating them himself

Also the type of man to walk around the house either shirtless or a tank top more often because "he gets hot easily" righttt righttttt. He loves the sensation of your touch on his body too. I'll never stop advocating for him appreciating other senses more post losing his sight!!!

Liu Kang

He has a lot of tats so like, he's going to think you're asking for a lil alone time wink which he doesn't oppose to but sometimes you simply just find interest in appreciating his ink

He will not shy away from telling you the origins and history behind each and every one. He'd even show you the ones he got for fun. He may be a god, but he was human first who lowkey liked to have as much fun as his comrade, Kung Lao, he was just better at hiding it

He now offers you to do it while you're cuddling or just chilling around each other; in reality he looks forward to it since he's never heard of such a fascinating with something like tattoos and it brought you two closer

a/n: i hope this was good enough! i've been writing so much lately just in general my brain is kinda mush ngl but i ain't no bitch! plus i gotta think more for smut so i went for fluff lol

[penny-anna]

OK in advance of tonight's other episode, couple of thoughts on the Percy Jackson tv show's adaptational choices:

i haven't actually seen anyone flag this one up yet (it's a fairly subtle change and i know a lot of ppl haven't read the first book in like 15 years so maybe everyone just forgot?) but in the book the reveal that Percy's mother is still alive drops a lot later in the narrative. book!Percy heads out on his quest fully intending to bring her back from the dead. which imo is a stronger narrative beat & it makes the reveal that she's still alive and he was right to think he could rescue her that much more satisfying.

on reflection agree w the comments i've seen re the other kids should have knelt to Percy after he was claimed. actually saw complaints about this before reading the book so was surprised at how fleeting a moment it was but it really does serve to accentuate both what a big deal a Forbidden Child is and that Percy is an outsider even at Camp Halfblood

as per previous post yes it is explicitly stated in the book that Chiron suspect Percy was the son of Poseidon and i think omitting that was a mistake given the number of ppl i've seen picking up on it

in 2 minds about the omission of the hellhound bcos it is a pretty important plot beat and a cool scene but i can see why they wouldn't want to do a CGI monster fight that was technically extraneous

ALSO Annabeth having mistakenly concluded that Percy was a child of Zeus was a good character beat in terms of her being smart enough to figure out he was a forbidden child but not infallible. and maybe also biased due to her previous relationship w Thalia.

that said i enjoyed her shoving Percy in a lake too much to really complain.

changes i think are for the better:

i think having sending Medusa's head to Olympus have actual Consequences was a good move 👍 unless im missing something due to not having read the rest of the series. i was surprised reading the book that in spite of Percy getting warned not to do it there wasn't any fall out.

i don't think the scene w Percy petrifying one of the furies was in the book either? cool moment!

PLUS having Athena be petty enough to pull that shit was like. very on point for a Greek god flkghfdkj

really enjoyed Echidna getting introduced earlier. amped up the tension in a big way AND kept me on my toes, i was there like ohh is this a different monster? are they moving her fight scene to the train? what's going to happen here - OH NO

Echidna bringing up that the gods and the 'monsters' are all a single family was also 👌great scene all round

likewise Percy & Annabeth BOTH trying to sacrifice themselves for the group loved that. don't think this was necessarily an improvement as the book scene was good in a different way but really good moment

*slow hand clap* consensus!!

[kanmom51]

I actually have a crazy theory...

I have already sent this ask as the response to someone else’s thoughts, but then I thought about it and I REALLY wanted to know your opinion about this.

I think Jikook by the beginning of last year didn't know they were enlisting together.

I think they obviously knew about buddy system but didn't actually think they would need to use it. Because it's not really done by idols, and also they both could've gone to safer and easier stations, where they could have more freedom.

BUT THEN Jimin started working intensely on his album and JK started acting out (like having drunken lives), and it became VERY CLEAR that they would not be able to do 18 months apart.

I mean do you remember, that at this time JK said himself that he was not working on anything. And I think the plan was for Jimin to go first (just like a lot of us thought he would) and for JK to have more time for promo alone, when others are gone (I’m pretty sure that HYBE definitely wanted for JK to have big solo debut apart from other members).

But then like I said the drunken lives happened and realization hit, that they have to apply for buddy system, that 18 months apart would be BAD for both of them.

And that's when HYBE (or whoever) made specific demands from JK. Like if he wanted to leave by the end of the year (and he had to for buddy system to work) he HAS TO do the album, and because there was no time to write it from scratch they got all the English songs. Also his schedule was extremely packed and difficult.

So I think that the travel show was something Jikook specifically done for themselves because JK's schedule was so insane that if not for that excuse they would not be able to hang out freely before the enlistment. (By the way am I the only one who thinks that we are getting the travel show only next year? And waiting for it now is kinda crazy?)

But again it's just my theory, mostly because HYBE doesn't feel (to me) like the company who would just let their artists do whatever they want. To me they are waaay more pragmatic than that, and if they decided to allow their stars to enlist together (something that isn't really done in idol culture), than they would make sure to get something in return. They worked JK very hard, and I think he took it because he had a specific goal (more like a person) in mind that he was willing to work for.

So, although we might be on the same wave with some of your thoughts, I don't fully agree with you.

I agree that they didn't know they would be enlisting together way back at the start of 2023.

I think that way back then they were still struggling with the realization that they will have to be enlisting. All the way back to the end of 2022, basically up to around the Busan concert, which was October 2022, they still held hope that some kind of arrangement could and would be found to allow for them not to enlist or to serve a shorter term. It was quite a conundrum for them, something I think most of them struggled with (and I say most because I do think that at least one of them did genuinely want to enlist) - on the one hand this is a life changing pretty scary thing (terrifying even - we saw how sad, and I will even say broken, JM was having to shave off his hair, and that was only a small part of it) they would have to do (joining the army is not a walk in the park, no pun intended), not to mention being in their prime, in the height of their success, having to part with the life they are accustomed to (professionally and personally), not being something they would necessarily want to do. And on the other hand you have that sense of commitment to the country and to their fellow Koreans, that have to face that same compulsory enlistment, adding the knowledge that not taking that path of enlistment could also come at a price. Like us, they knew that there were those that indeed believed they should be given an exemption, but at the same time many Koreans would have frowned upon it, and it's them that have to live among their people. Also, enlisting like any other SK young man would allow them more freedom in the future when it comes to voicing their opinions, as they had, like all others who had served their country fulfilling their duties. Criticisms of anything within a society you live in is easier to swallow when the person voicing said opinion is part of that society and enjoys not only the rights bestowed on those who live there, but has also fulfilled all required duties as well.

Long story short, end of 2022 the decision to enlist became a reality and Jin enlisting hit them all VERY hard. At that point I don't think they had a plan of enlistment just yet, although we do know from RM, for instance, that he was supposed to enlist with Hobi but ended up pushing back as he was busy working on his album and preferred not to lose the momentum.

And btw, hearing this from RM also teaches us that JM was never going to enlist so early on. And here I think our ways part when it comes to the continuation of your theory, because I do believe that JM's plan had ALWAYS been to stick around for JK's solo debut, whenever that would be. And I'll get back to it in a few...

JK was struggling start of 2023. What we got to see, starting with his lives in Feb 2023, him deleting his IG, was him pulling himself out of the pit he was in. Taking initiative and deleting his IG (which I will once again say was a big old F U to the company) and reaching out to us with his lives was JK becoming more active in getting better.

*Side note: I'm using the term getting better meaning pulling yourself out of a bad place you are in mentally (one that effects you physically as well).

Idk if starting the lives was a conscious decision on his part towards getting better, but I do believe that starting them was a key part in it.

Talking to us, sharing things with us, setting (at least trying to set) boundaries with his fans what is and is not acceptable on his part as an idol when it comes to fan behavior and interactions with him, doing it all in the most JK way, intelligently and respectfully.

JM was busy all the way from end of July 2023 through to the release of Face and until the end of his promotions. It's not that they weren't seeing each other or spending time together during this time. It's not that JM wasn't there for JK, as much as he could in the moment. It's very important to state this. But JK was struggling with everything. It's the hiatus, Jin's enlistment, their looming enlistment (the unknown of what will be with the two of them - separation for such a long time is something that both of them would find extremely hard to handle for so many reasons), the lack of direction, the lack of a structured timetable (JK is neuro divergent - there is zero doubt in my mind - if it's asd or adhd or a combination of the two, which in my mind is the most likely of them all). He was kind of lost and his anchor, JM, was not available in the way that he needed. Not JM's fault. Not JK's fault. It just was what it was, and JK was a little lost. It's natural for something like this to happen. I spoke about it quite a bit in my posts about his lives at the time. We saw RM was kind of lost for a while there too. The trick is to pick yourself up and pull yourself out of it (with help of others if necessary), and JK did, and JM was ecstatic to see him doing it. Those comments of his during JK's lives (we are talking about the lives during Feb-Mar 2023) were testimony to that.

Once again I can't seem to reign myself in and keep on point, lol.

So, where was I? Oh yes, they didn't know what will happen, but at the same time JM was not planning on enlisting earlier that year. Understand this: JM enlisting earlier would, to them, mean them being apart for not 18 months, but for 18 months plus. Plus the time between JM's enlistment and JK's enlistment. And plus the time from JM's discharge to JK's discharge. Even without JK's situation this was not something that they would want or agree on. Not to mention JK not only wanting JM around for his solo debut, but NEEDING him around for it. And it's not about being by his side 24/7, which he wasn't and he couldn't be. It's about being accessible. Being there to support him if he needed. Whenever he needed it. Being able to be with him for his first solo performance (this brings me close to another ask I received and am working on regarding JK's FIRST big solo performance). All this has to be within the limits of their glass closet (glass getting a little murky for their own liking since the end of 2021 all the way to the end of 2023), and the limits set by the powers of be (some of which JK very defiantly crossed). So yeah, JM was going to wait for JK's solo debut before enlisting.

As for enlisting together. That was something that was being assessed and in the works for several months. Something obviously kept quiet for good reason.

Was there a give and take with the company when it came to JK and the album? 100%. There were things he wanted, there were things they wanted, there were frogs that it being a first solo album he knew he would have to swallow.

Were some of these concessions given to allow the two more freedom, like allowing the 'travel show'? I do believe they were. Perhaps also prices paid (with Golden) for demands agreed upon in their new contracts. I can definitely see that happening.

The push for a full length album could be one of those, for example. JK was talking about a mini album even as late as mid July, and then it turned into a full length album. Could it have been the company pressuring him into it? Yes it could, as in the company wanting this. But JK is not one to cave in just because the company wants. So very possibly we had a bit of give and take going on here, and some of it most definitley would have had to do with allowances made for the two of them.

But at the same time I don't think it had anything to do with the joint enlistment. Not only don't I think that the company would have a say in it, legally or morally, but this wouldn't be something that either of them would stand for. So, in case I didn't make myself clear here, I will say it again - the company didn't use the possibility of joint enlistment as a tool to get something extra out of JK.

You talk about Hybe not being a company that will allow their artists to do as they wish. BTS belong to Big Hit, which is a subsidiary of Hybe. But Hybe would not have existed if not for BTS. BTS made BH what it is today and Hybe was built on their coat tails. And BTS, the members, they have enjoyed many freedoms within their company over the years. Not full freedom though. And Jikook, well they were allowed to be (while in other companies this was not allowed, couples forced apart or forced out). And not only were they allowed to be, but towards the end of 2020 there was movement towards normalizing their relationship, ear suck, hickey and all.

But then came Hybe and Hybe going public, and I knew the day that was announced that even though the members will get a huge payout this move will cost them freedoms they already had, because now there were shareholders and share prices to worry about, and when your band is the main bread winner for that company, well, as I mentioned, there is a price to pay. And they have been paying that price. The two of them for the 2 years prior to their enlistment. As long as they were under their old contracts they were bound by them. Which is why I feel like there will be changes coming when they are done with their MS and well into their new contracts. This will be freedom regarding their art (I think we can already see part of that with RM's new album) but also regarding their personal lives, in a sense of what they can or cannot show if they choose to. JK telling us he's human, telling us he loves us but he deserves to be happy, or even more needs to be happy to be able to create and perform and make us happy (you need to be especially dense if you don't understand that this also includes being in a relationship with another person, who may or may not be a member of his own band). This includes setting boundaries with their fans - yes they love them and feel indebted to them, but at the same time they need to stay in their own lane (I do think JK has been too nice at times setting these boundaries, while others like RM, Yoongi and Tae - a couple of times - were way blunter).

Once again, Hybe wouldn't have the right to 'allow' or 'disallow' them to enlist together. This would have been their decision and theirs alone. Hybe could talk about timing and what they would like to happen before or after, but not if it can or will happen. Hybe could like or dislike it, support it or not, but they would have no power over it. The military alone would have a say if to allow it or not, and at the end of the day we know how that one ended.

I also want to touch on another point.

Again.

Their choice to enlist together.

I've seen talk about Jikookers using the term NEED when it comes to the two of them - needing to be with one another to get through their military service, and I wanted to put in my two cents on this.

The way I think of it is that when people use the term need in that case it's not about saying that if they weren't allowed to enlist together they wouldn't have survived it. No. That isn't it. Not in my opinion, in any case.

These two young men are strong physically and mentally, and they would get through whatever was thrown their way (wouldn't be easy, I tell you that, but they would get through it). Chances are that if they wouldn't have gone down the path of enlisting together they could have landed a cushier placement, band perhaps, like NJ, who knows. But definitley the choice to do this together had a price tag to it, and their letters from Festa tell us as much as well (even though they obviously sugar coat it for us, but the sentiments are clear - it's hard).

So, they chose this. They knew this was going to be hard. A harder, more difficult, placement if they were to go down this path. And yet this was their choice!!

Why?

And here comes that NEED into play.

Yes, I do think that they needed this. They needed each other. They needed to not be separated for 18 months not knowing if and how often they could get to see each other or be together (maybe, if allowed, once in 3 months, and only if their units allowed the time off at the same time). They needed that person that they trusted and KNEW that would stand by their side, that would support them, be their rock, catch them when they fall, be by their side in their time of need, just like they always have been.

They are each other's PERSON. The one that would ALWAYS be there through good and bad.

They both put it down in words:

JM

And JK

Shock, awe... I must be one of those delusional Jikookers that believe JK's lyrics were not describing his relationship with us, the fans. Another song written for the one person they love, yet given as a gift to Army.

And in his very subtle but intelligent way, he told us that himself:

"Even when I was working on the song, I really wanted to release it as a fan song".

Just like JM did, eh?

Would it be too hard to just say : "I wrote this song for my fans"? He chose not to, didn't he? Once again we have choices here.

I digress.

You could replace NEED with WANT, if you will. Same same in this case, imo. Seeing how hard they fought to find their way to this exact point.

The first, the only idols to ever do this!!

Bottom line:

To me, using the term NEED in this context is not about them not being able to make it otherwise, but more about a choice made to have that person they feel closest to, the person that has since forever been their emotional anchor, the person that lifted them up when they fell, the person that stood by them, cared for them, supported them when they were struggling. The person that KNEW them to the core and would be there by their side to get through this together with.

Each other.

[brekkie-e]

I need more people talking about how the ideal thematic party is Wyll, Karlach, and Astarion. All three bound in the shackles of servitude in some capacity, all three in some stage of being sold to hell.

Karlach and Astarion being two sides of the same coin. Years of servitude, physical and emotional torment, and rage under their belt. Nothing but the burning desire for revenge and the desperate ache to live flowing through their veins. They're both drunk on freedom and life. They get the other person, despite responding to their new found freedom in completely opposite ways. You can see it in their banter though. They get it. There is not a lot of judgement between them. If Karlach needs to laugh hysterically because she's here on the material plane, walking in the sun, and just can't believe it? Astarion can't even bring himself to judge.

But Wyll? Wyll is careening towards joining them in their suffering. He's got one foot in the door. He already knows a little of the pain that comes with being on the end of a leash, but he has only just begun to fully feel the consequences he is destined to face. The thing about Wyll though is he's desperate to save everyone but himself. He's quick to back Karlach and Astarion in their fights against their tormentors. But when it comes down to it he's fairly passive in his quest to free himself of Mizzora. Atleast in my experience, it fell to Tav to capitalize on oppurtunities to out think her. It fell to Tav to push him to TRY. That's not a critique on Wyll, but when you put that thematically next to Karlach and Astarion who are near feral in their desperation for freedom- it is really interesting. And it's easy to imagine the two of them becoming determined to ensure he doesn't fall victim to the same fates they did. He's trying to save them, while they're trying to save him.

Or, countering my own point, imagine how frustrating that would be for Karlach and Astarion. Knowing that this great guy, this larger than life hero who always has a silly pun and a dashing smile on hand- doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of his situation. He’s still smiling. He’s still soldiering on as though nothing is wrong. He’s not taking the initiative to escape it, and he’s not coming up with any possible solution. He’s content to keep spending his time helping people and putting them before his own needs. Now, Wyll isn’t necessarily as fine as he seems. He’s by no means ignorant of or unafraid of the fate that awaits him. But he puts on a good front, with that big old Charisma modifier of his. And I imagine that could easily drive Astarion and Karlach mad.

That’s without going in to the fact that Astarion has an infernal pact carved on his back, and will be sold to hell as well if he doesn’t find a solution. And he hits the ground running the moment he finds out. He is not about to let that happen, and goes to great lengths to find out how to fix the situation. So there is a contrast with Astarion and Wyll not only in their reaction to their own tormenter’s, but with their goal of evading hell.

Because of how each of these guys’ situation is so closely related to their own, I think many moments would arise of stepping on each other’s toes while processing their trauma. Karlach and Astarion know better than most what Wyll is going to go through if he doesn’t take this seriously, and he makes PUNS? If they could go back to the day before their lives changed forever, they would do everything possible to make sure it never happened. They didn’t get a warning. He has his written on paper. In glowing ink. There could be so many incredible arguments between these three because personality wise- more often than not it would be Karlach and Wyll agreeing. Which would make the moments Karlach ends up siding with Astarion because Wyll made light of something at the wrong time all the more poignant. Karlach and Astarion agreeing on something and being a united front trying to drag Wyll to action would be such a powerful scene.

It becomes even more fun when you consider their personalities. Wyll and Karlach being the indisputably kindest characters of the group, but being so narratively tied to the one who is morally bankrupt. When someone is altruistically good and helps people for no reason Astarion usually gets frustrated with the fact they don’t understand how cruel the world is. He doesn’t do that with Karlach. He can’t do that with Karlach. Because she’s him. She’s the part of him who rages and screams and let’s every swear word fly and embraces how much hurt she is carrying and how entirely unfair it is. He sees that in her and I think some part of him is validated by it. So when she is unbearably kind and refuses to believe that there’s no good left in the world, who is he to tell her she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She has just as much baggage to back her up as he does. He just walks off and let’s her have it in most of the banter I’ve heard. The flip side, he validates her own need for vengeance and doesn’t let her feel like a bad person for enjoying taking her anger out. She deserves it after everything that’s been taken from her.

Wyll is a similar situation. He is a constant example of the goodness of humanity. A reminder that it is more important to remain true to oneself even at the expense of power or comfort. He stays true to himself, and is forced to abandon his home. He stays true to himself, and is forced to endure a form that is foreign to him. He stays true to himself, and forsakes the safety of the material plane. In the process, he sacrifices the powers of his pact. He willingly gives up the position of Grand Duke so that he can be the tool for good that he thinks the world needs. Of course, a million points can also be made about all that he’s willing to sacrifice if you go the route of maintaining his pact- but I’m working off of what I personally saw play out, which was destroy the pact but save the Grand Duke.

Wyll’s personality playing off Astarion’s selfishness is so interesting. The first things Astarion reaches for in every situation are power and comfort. Silk sheets, a good wine, unholy ascension- whatever the whim of the day is. Being forced into the company of someone who constantly reminds him there is a vastly different approach to life would both be frustrating and eye opening. Especially when that example is backed up by Karlach whom Astarion can’t help but respect and find oddly comforting. Vice versa, as Wyll is an example of selflessness to Astarion, he is an example of selfishness to Wyll. Where Wyll and Karlach drag Astarion kicking and screaming towards recovery, he might have his own soft moments of begging Wyll to put himself first. Just once. Being selfish about your needs does not make you a bad person. A dynamic made even better by Karlach being the background example that being unapologetic about your needs is okay. All of these little elements play off each other so well.

Now how do these guys come through for Karlach? Stability. Which is a word I NEVER thought to use in reference to Astarion before. But I’m serious. Day one of freedom for him? Where is his mind? Completely focused on how to make sure it lasts. How does he secure the situation. How does he make himself safe permanently? He is a self proclaimed ideas man, not much of a planner. And yet, he IS coming up with ideas. He is thinking ahead about the future, and planning to take every chance he can to secure his freedom. Karlach is living in the moment, taking each day as a blessing and not letting fears of the future hold her back. And she deserves that. But it’s good for her to have someone pulling her back to earth and reminding her to do more than live in the moment when it comes to the big things. I’m serious, if they all three put their heads together and worked as a team not only would they be able to accomplish anything- the found family potential is absolutely limitless.

So- long story short. I personally find them to be the most satisfying and interesting party dynamic you can play with. It’s rewarding on a lot of levels, and also has some of the best friendship dialogues in the game. Which I’ve noticed there just isn’t a lot of friend-centric commentary or scenes in the base game, but this party does seem to get more than other’s I’ve worked with. I think that’s a larger issue than just which party build you run with, but I do enjoy that you can get a satisfying found family feel with this crew. Of course, romancing them as eachother also works pretty well too- the dynamics are just as good for that. Personally, I enjoy romancing Astarion and then keeping Karlach and Wyll as besties, but there’s a lot of ways you can run with it.

[trippinsorrows]

give me a reason + three

authors note: still blown away by people's interest in this one. i included visuals in this chapter, so look out for links. tweets and messages are intended to be read from left to right.

as always, confusion is to be expected. :)

one + two

words: 8k

song inspo: just give me a reason by p!nk and nate ruess

warnings: language and fluff

To say this is the first time in his life that Joe has felt lonely would be a lie. He felt it a bit the first time he left home for school, but it was greatly eased by the fact that he had BJ, his best friend. They were both in the same boat, so it wasn’t as bad.

He felt it again on and off over the years as he fought to make an NFL career that was never going to work, well, work. And once that brutal realization finally hit, after taking way too much time feeling sorry for himself, he experienced t it again as he started the hustle and grind to make a wrestling career work instead. 

And he’s especially felt it over the past two years as his marriage with Ri has deteriorated to a level he thought unreachable. 

But this….this is different.

It’s different because he’s not going home to an empty house. He’s on the road, back to work, surrounded by his cousins, a fantastic team, and a plethora of fans. It’s truly the opposite of loneliness.

But that’s exactly what Joe feels.

Because he doesn’t have her. Doesn’t have Ri.

Even if he hasn’t had her for at least two years. Not really, anyway. Not in any meaningful way that actually matters to him. 

A knock on the door pulls him from his depressing inner dialogue. 

Sitting up, Joe calls out, “come in.” 

In walk Jon and Josh, and right away, Joe knows what’s up. He can tell by their facial expressions.

“I’m fine.” Maybe if he jumps ahead of whatever semi intervention they have planned, he can avoid a conversation he really doesn’t feel like having. Physically or mentally. 

“Bullshit,” Josh scoffs, closing the door behind them. The twins sit down on different seats opposite the sofa Joe’s big body is sprawled on. “You ain’t been fine for a minute, Uce.”

It’s not entirely wrong, but that doesn’t mean Joe has to necessarily agree. “A lot of shit has happened.”

“Yeah, and I’m not quite sure you fully allowing yourself to feel that shit.”

“Kind of hard not to.”

“You know what we mean, Joe.” Jon cuts in, asking over a sigh. “Why you here right now? You should be with Ella. Helping her heal and remember shit.”

Joe feels the exact same way, but that’s not what her family wanted. Not what she wanted to some extent, because Joe was present when her parents brought up the idea of her returning home to Florida with them. She didn’t seem opposed. Didn’t express any desire to instead stay and go back to her real home with him. 

Not that he can blame her. He’s a complete stranger to her. Granted, technically, so is her family. So that not being chosen thing has definitely left a sting. 

So, Joe settles on a simple answer, “it’s not what she wanted.”

Josh is quick with the rebuttal. “Man, she don’t even know who she is, let alone what she wants.” Again, not wrong. But also, again, no need to verbalize as such. “Look, Uce, I know….I know things been rocky with you and her the past couple years—”

“Don’t.” This time, Joe doesn’t hesitate to dead the conversation before it can truly transpire. “I’m not doing this shit right now.”

“That’s the problem though, Joe.” Jon jumps back in, pointing out, “I feel like you, and her too, been avoiding talking about whatever it is that happened. And that avoidance has damn near cost you your marriage.”

“I said I’m not doing this, Jon. Drop it.” Joe can think of a million other things that he’d prefer to talk about than that. All kinds of cruel, mideval types of torture would be preferred over venturing down that path. The only person he should be discussing that with is his wife. But, that’s hard to do when she doesn’t even remember it. 

Doesn’t remember the thing he’ll never truly be able to process. 

He doesn’t even know someone can process and make peace with that. 

The twins share a look. They must know they’re defeated. In this round, at least. Cause if it’s one thing he knows about the cousins he considers more as brothers, they can be resilient and tenacious. Especially when it comes to heavy shit like this.

“Alright, man.” Josh shakes his head and slaps his thighs. “We’ll leave you alone.” It’s appreciated and both unwanted. Joe doesn’t want to be alone, per se. But, he doesn’t want his cousins, either.

He wants his wife. 

And when they walk out, the door closing behind them figuratively and literally, Joe is back to ruminating thoughts about his wife.

His wife who he’s seen mostly online in the two weeks that have passed since she was discharged from the hospital and left to be with her family. 

Joe isn’t ashamed or embarrassed to admit he’s found himself looking at footage of her via her music videos, interviews, performances and home videos. He’s reviewed old news articles that came out about them back in the day, got a good chuckle at a situation a few years back where some irrelevant rapper called himself trying to start shit with Mari that Joe and BJ handled and deaded right away.

He laughed over old text exchanges with his wife who will always be the smartest yet dumbest person he’s ever met when it comes to common sense sometimes. 

But, he’s especially enjoyed the home videos. Joe had almost forgotten just how much footage he has of her. Personal videos taken when it was just the two of them. 

Some taken by her. Some taken by him.

Memories, they’d always call them.

And they still are. 

Just haunted ones. 

Joe grabs his phone and navigates to his videos folder. There’s hundreds of them, because every time he upgrades to a new phone, he always makes sure to back up and transfer his texts, photos, and videos. For no reason other than not wanting to lose anything. Not miss out on any of the many hilarious, heartwarming moments with Ri. 

Joe picks a random video, a smile easily falling on his face as he immediately remembers and recalls what this one is. 

She’s wearing one of his Bloodline shirts, a random ball cap and a pair of his sunglasses over her eyes. There’s also a spatula in her hand as she sits on the floor in their living room in front of their flat screen TV while one of his more popular promos with Brock Lesnar plays in the background.

“You must be confused, farm boy. That title? That’s my title, and you don’t even realize cause I’m gon smash you at WrestleMania. And it’s not even your fault, Brock. You ain’t got a chance.” She’s mouthing along perfectly, facial expressions and body language in almost perfect sync with her makeshift microphone. Joe can hear his laughter in the background as she stands up, getting more into character. “This is my show! This is my ring!” She gestures off to the side. “This cameraman right here? This is my cameraman!” She gestures around the room. “These people, these are all my people, because they acknowledge me!” She then points to him. “These two right here? They work for me! This commentary team is mine because they brag and talk about me the whole time.” She then lifts her arm, pointing to the ceiling. “That sign right there? Is mine! Because I am WrestleMania! I am this show, I run this show, and everybody works for me!” She smirks, head titled. “Including the security in the ring with me.” Joe’s laughter increases as she drops the spatula and throws the hat off along with the sunglasses, also falling out laughing with him. 

Ri walks over and climbs onto his lap, asking, “That was good, wasn’t it?” Joe doesn’t hear a response on his end, but he’s certain it was nonverbal acknowledgement. 

As the video ends, he finds himself back frowning again.

Close….

They were so close.

Joe switches to a different album, photos this time, his smile returning as he opens a photo she snapped of them laying in bed. He’s clearly asleep, his arm over her body as she smiles happily.

His finger traces over the outline of her smile, a memory popping into his head.

“It’s just so beautiful.”

Joe sighs. Loud. 

It’s not often he gets time off, so these next couple days are precious and cherished. And he’d love to kick it off the right way: by getting some much needed sleep.

If only his lovely wife understood this.

Because even though it’s almost 2am, she sits beside him in their bed, emotional for no damn reason at her chosen movie: The Brave Little Toaster.

He blows out a breath. “It’s literally about kitchen supplies.” Joe then asks, confused as hell. “Why the hell you watching this anyway?”

Her answer is rushed and nervous. “Because I watched that creepy ass movie earlier today, and now I need to ease my anxiety.” 

Joe closes his eyes, turning on his back, looking at her with all the judgment. “Didn't I tell you not to watch that shit? You know your ass is scary as hell.” As soon as she started giving him a description of the movie, a psychological thriller, he knew she needed to stay far away. Ri has a tendency to overthink films like that, somehow convincing herself that whatever happened in the movie could happen to her. 

And that’s exactly what’s happened. 

“Well, I didn’t listen to you, okay!” Joe rolls his eyes. Obviously. “So, now I need to watch this soft, cute movie about these brave little utensils.” She starts sniffling. “And it’s just so sad.”

“What they do? Rust?”

“Joe!” She slaps his arm, huffing, “oh my gosh, you have no creative bone in your body.”

“Not at no damn 2 o'clock in the morning, you’re right, I don’t.” He turns back on his side, bringing the blankets up to his neck, snatching back more of the covers from his hogging ass wife. “Now I’m going back to sleep. You enjoy your KitchenAid movie.”

But that’s damn near impossible when she starts crying again minutes later, somehow louder than before. 

“He’s just so brave.”

“Oh my god.” Joe closes his eyes, rolling once again onto his back. He pinches the bridge of his nose and reminds himself that this is his best friend and his wife. He can’t grenade this. Can’t and won’t hurt her feelings by telling her to shut the fuck up, even though that’s what he would say if it was literally anyone else. “Your period must be coming because you done gone through all six stages of grief watching this damn kids movie about a fucking toaster.”

Ri gasps beside him, and he can almost feel her dramatic ass, judgmental glare. “I resent you saying that! Just because I’m a woman with feelings does not mean—“ She pauses. “What day is it?”

And before he can answer, she’s kicking the blankets off, climbing over him, and scampering to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Joe is barely even able to turn back on his side when she calls out from the bathroom. “Goddamnit , you man, you! You spoke it over me!”

He sighs. It all makes sense now.

Ri is just an overall emotional, theatrical ass person, but it’s always exacerbated whenever she’s on her cycle. She becomes….difficult. 

Super sensitive. 

“Shit.”

He hears her curse from the bathroom, but it’s not as loud, not as dramatic. And that’s what catches his attention.

“What?” Nothing. Nothing but the sound of the drawers being opened and almost slammed shut, like she’s in a rush of some sort. Joe kicks the blankets off and walks over to the bathroom. He knocks once, asking, “can I come in?”

She answers by opening up the door only to turn back around, clearly looking for something. “What’s wrong?”

“Damnit!” She snaps, slamming the cabinet shut. “I’m out of tampons.” Ri walks over and gestures to the few she has on the counter. “These are all light.” 

Shit. 

Right away, he sees her dilemma. There’s no way she can use light tampons for the first night of her period. And the reason he knows this and isn’t weirded out like how some men would be is simple. He grew up the only boy among four sisters, the baby of them all. He’s heard and learned a lot over the years. Some, or maybe a lot of which, he could have gone the rest of his life without knowing. But, some information, like in cases like this, have proved to be a bit helpful. 

So, it’s only natural, he offers, “I’ll run to the drugstore right quick.”

Ri turns to him, instantly protesting, “no. It’s late, Joe.” She crosses her arms and shrugs. “I can just, like, stuff a bunch of toilet paper up my vagina for tonight and pray nothing gets stuck.”

He leans against the doorway, easily shooting that down. “Yeah, with your luck, that’s exactly what’ll happen too.” He loves his Ri more than what’s probably healthy, but the girl is accident prone and the queen of freak accidents. “I’d rather get you the damn tampons than spend all night in the ER with you.”

Her not disagreeing with his prediction is telling. She knows he’s right. “Let me at least go with you. I don’t want you out by yourself this late.”

Joe would also not like to be out on the road, hitting up Walgreens for a random ass tampon run, but this is also Ri. And there’s very little he wouldn’t do for her.

If anything. 

“I think I’ll be fine, Ri.” He chuckles, walking over to her. She pouts as he kisses her temple. “You’re the one who would get kidnapped or some shit.” He laughs at his comment, a reference to the movie she watched earlier that’s got her up so wide and awake. 

She gasps, mouth dropped as she looks up with wide eyes. “See! I told you it could happen!”

Joe walks into their bedroom and throws on some sweats, a hoodie, and slides on some sneakers. He grabs his wallet, keys, and phone as Ri walks out, shuffling over to him and moving up against his chest, hugging him. “You want the chocolate?” She nods. “Milky Ways?” 

Again, another nod as she looks up. “And the—”

“Hot fries and Arizona tea. The one mixed with lemonade. I know.” 

She pouts. “Thank you.”

He kisses her forehead, murmuring, “I’ll be back.”

He walks toward the door, as she calls out, “I love you.”

Joe chuckles. “I love you too, baby.” He’s halfway down the steps when she screams out from the bedroom. 

“Damnit! Now we can’t do the nasty!”

By the end of the memory, a time so much simpler and happier, Joe has his head back, eyes closed, emotions all over the fucking place. 

She was his best friend. The person he trusted the most. More than anyone. 

And all of a sudden, it was just….gone. 

His entire view of her….gone.

Or maybe not.

Because while this nightmare of an accident has taught and shown him a lot, one of the biggest things it’s made him realize is that while his hurt and confusion and betrayal may be strong, his love for her is stronger.

It always has been.

He was just blinded by all of those other miserable, heavy emotions and too stubborn to do anything about it.

And now he’s in this extremely uncomfortable, confusing as fuck dilemma where he has to find someway to manage and deal with these emotions when they should be managed and dealt with with her.

But how can someone forgive someone for something they don’t even remember doing?

———-

Sleeping in a bed that isn’t yours anymore but once was is….weird. 

Sleeping in a bed in a bedroom that was once yours is even weirder.

But, staying in a house full of people who feel like and are, for all intents and purposes, complete strangers is the weirdest of them all.

It’s borderline uncomfortable.

Mariella understands the intentions of her parents. Sees how they think and believe her sleeping in her old bedroom could potentially stir some memories. It makes sense. But, it doesn’t work that way.

At least, it’s not working that way for her. 

And to her credit, she tries. Tries to observe and almost study the damn near wall full of photos from her childhood, photos of her with people who are both family and friends. She’s not sure if this was just how she last decorated her old room, but something tells her it’s the result of her family's continued effort to jog her memory. It seems….excessive. But from what she’s gathered, that’s also a good word to describe her personality. Extra. Dramatic even. 

If only she could….connect with that somehow. 

Stepping out of the shower, she takes her time getting ready. Doesn’t rush to get downstairs where she knows she’ll be greeted with a row of smiling, unfamiliar faces. Mariella really does feel bad that she’s having such a difficult time understanding and connecting, because for all intents and purposes, her ‘family’ has been nothing but kind and supportive.

And she knows this has to be difficult for them, but….she can’t force it. 

Even if she wanted to.

Because she damn sure does.

It would all be so much easier that way. 

Sure enough, the smell of bacon sizzling on the fire and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee isn’t the only thing that’s waiting for her in the kitchen.

Her father is the first one to lay eyes on her, his smile small but oh so genuine. “Morning, Ella.”

Mariella does her best to return the smile. From what she’s seen and heard, she’s always been exceptionally close with her dad. With her whole family, really.

“Morning.” 

Her mom turns around at the sound of her voice and entrance, also smiling. It’s bigger and deeper than her dad’s. And she doesn't hesitate to turn the fire on low, clap her hands against her apron and walk over to pull Mariella into a hug.

It’s not missed upon either woman how Mariella initially tenses. And she feels bad for that too. This is her mother for crying out loud. 

April pulls back, the sadness and slight level of rejection evident in her pretty brown eyes that Mariella realizes she inherited from her mother. “I’m sorry, I—”

“No, it’s…it’s okay.” Mariella swallows, forcing an even bigger smile. “You are my mother, after all.”

April’s smile is tight, the coverup for a disappointment Mariella can’t truly understand. “How did you sleep?”

Not very good. “Fine.” She walks over to the machine, lifting the mug that she assumes belongs to her dad given the same word is written in big red letters on said mug. She reaches it to him. 

“Thank you.”

A small nod of acknowledgment as she grabs a new mug and starts to brew her coffee when April speaks from where she stands again by the fire. “I was thinking of going to the promenade today. Olivia is going too. Would you like to join us, Ella?”

Mariella doesn’t have to be looking at her mother to know that while it’s meant to be a question, it’s more of a statement. And while she isn’t opposed, much preferring to be out of the house vs in the house, home videos and photos stuffed down her throat, a true question would be nice vs being told.

“Sure,” she answers with a shrug, turning around and pulling out her phone, opening to the contact she’s found herself thinking about the past couple days. 

Joe.

Their last correspondence was almost a week ago. All limited to texts that seem rather on the dry end considering they’re supposed to be married. She doesn’t really fault him though. In his defense, he seems to be wanting to give her space vs coming on too strong.

Unlike her family.

She sighs loudly, fingers hovering over the keyboard as she debates editing, once again, the text she’s had drafted for a couple of days but hasn’t built the courage to send.

Mariella: Can we facetime or something?

It’s such a simple thing that she’s not sure why she’s overthinking. In the little interaction she had with him at the hospital, she could see that despite his size, he’s a man on the quiet side. That calmness was appreciated, and in the midst of being bombarded with information, she’s found herself missing that to some extent.

Missing….missing him to some extent.

Even if it makes no sense to her. 

“Morning, family.” Olivia’s voice rings into the air, pulling Mariella back into the present. She’s dressed to the nines, and from that alone, without even needing to be told, Mariella knows her sister is a successful woman. She just looks the part. Liv sets a smile that seems a bit off on her, red lipstick contrasting against her almost unnatural, straight, pearly whites. “Hey, sis. How you feeling?”

Such a big question that seems impossible to truthfully answer to the people who are only trying to help. “Good.” So, she lies. “I guess I’m going out with you all shopping today?”

Olivia rolls her eyes and adjusts the expensive looking designer bag on her shoulder. “Of course, you are. We’ve gotta get you back out there.”

“Olivia…” 

Olivia turns to their dad, asking, “what? She has to get back to her life eventually.”

“Leave her be, Liv.”

Olivia rolls her eyes, ignoring April and reiterates, “she needs more than just photos and videos, guys.”

Mariella doesn’t know what she specifically needs but being thrusted into social situations when she still hasn’t memorized her SSN seems to not be it either. 

But still, she remains quiet. 

“Ella.” Mariella turns to her dad, brows raised. “When’s the last time you spoke to Jo—”

“Oh, Ella, I forgot there was something I wanted to show you.” Olivia interrupts the question Mariella was already thinking about without her dad even needing to ask her.

The thing she’s still thinking about even as Olivia pulls out her phone, inundating some random ass photos from back when she was in high school.

The man she can’t seem to stop thinking about.

———-

As expected, shopping has ended up providing just another form of frustration and level of feeling of being overwhelmed.

It wouldn’t be as bad for Mariella if her mom and sister didn’t feel the need to stop and introduce her to almost everyone who’s familiar, to them, that they come across. She feels a bit like a politician, plastering on smiles that don’t meet her eyes and accepting hugs from strangers. Members from church. Old neighbors. Even an old elementary school teacher.

It’s just weird.

So much so that she eventually has to excuse herself, making up some excuse about a headache as she sits outside on a bench in front of the store where Olivia and April continue to shop.

Mariella is grateful for the solitude and uses that to once again play around with just texting her freaking husband of all people. 

She could use some of his quiet right now. 

“Mariella?”

One thing that’s improved is her ability to respond to her name, but it’s who says her name that has Mariella more stumped than anything. 

He’s standing above her, creating a massive shadow and distraction from her sending out the text she’s not exactly sure she wants to actually send. 

He’s wearing a smile that’s objectively friendly, but there’s something about it that feels….off. He’s also objectively attractive, pretty light eyes, tall, sinewy build. Facial features that seem more appropriate for a page out of Vogue vs being on this strip of stores.

“Wow. It really is you.” He scoffs and tucks his sunglasses near the collar of his shirt. “It’s been too long.”

Mariella may not know just who exactly she is, but she does know the difference between being friendly and rude. And she really doesn’t know a nicer way to say her first response other than what comes out. “I’m sorry, I don’t….do we know each other?”

The man frowns a bit. “That’s right. I forgot….” Something tells her he feels uncomfortable outright saying what’s otherwise obvious. Like the fact that she was in a severe accident that knocked the shit out of her. 

And her memories. 

“My name is Brendan. We….we dated back in college.” 

Oh.

Mariella still doesn’t know a lot about herself. Much of anything at all, really. But what she is seeing is that her taste in men is pretty damn good, because this Brendan person is far from ugly. Though it’s hard to not compare. Hard to not think about the contrast between him and Joe, her husband’s voice deep and baritone compared to Brendan’s soprano-like tone. Joe’s massive build to Brendan’s much slender one. Even the height difference. She recalls having to crane her head up to look at Joe. Brendan is a few inches taller than her but nothing significant. 

And those comparisons also have her reconsidering, yet again, keeping the text as it is right now, just drafted in her phone. Has her wondering what benefits could be gained from just sending it, seeing what he says.

“Oh.” The word escapes her head but nothing else comes out, Brendan clearing his throat.

“This may be poor wording, but you look absolutely amazing considering….well….”

“That I almost died?” He looks uncomfortable but also amused. “It’s…it’s okay. I guess it’s a compliment.”

“I didn’t realize you were in town.” He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans, asking. “How long are you here for?”

Hopefully not much longer.

And it’s a thought that she instantly feels bad about. This is her family, and it’s not their fault she can’t remember. Because they’re trying their damn hardest to change that. But, that’s also a part of the problem. 

It’s…..it’s too much.

She feels almost suffocated at times. 

Like now with this Brendan person. 

“I don’t know.” An honest, truthful answer followed up with more honesty. “But, I’ll be going back to California eventually.” Back to be with her husband. One person vs several who seems really great at giving her information but not too much. Largely only when she asks vs being told in heaps of overwhelming data. “With my husband.”

She doesn’t know why she adds on that last part or why she fiddles with the beautiful diamond on her left hand. The ring that she placed on her finger without much thought when given her items upon being discharged. 

Brendan’s lip twitches, his eyes flashing with something that almost looks like irritation. “Of course.” There’s definitely no denying the irritation in his tone. “Listen, I’d love for us to catch up before you leave. A cup of coffee.” Her eyes widen a bit when he adds on, “maybe even dinner—”

“Hello.” 

Another voice. This one a bit more familiar. April stands in the doorway of the store with Olivia. They both wear polar opposite expressions. Olivia is smiling in Brendan’s direction while April’s mouth is in a straight line as she moves to stand beside Mariella.

“Mrs. Holmes. Long time, no see.” The irritation is washed away, swapped out with something amiable but also….inauthentic. Mariella doesn’t know if she’s exactly in a place to be judging people or calling them fake when she doesn’t even know who she is, but there’s something….off about this Brendan character.

She doesn’t know a shit ton about Joe either, other than the basics, but right off the bat, between the two of them, she chose the right one to walk down the aisle with.

Her mom’s smile remains tight. “Maybe not long enough.” This takes Mariella by surprise. She hasn’t seen this side of her mother before. Unfriendly, almost.

Olivia, however, rolls her eyes. “Mother, please. You know Brendan also works for the same firm I’m at.” Ahh. That would explain the smile. “Excuse my mom. It’s been….a lot for all of us.” 

Now, Mariella is the one fighting back confusion. She gets that this has to be difficult for her family. For her to not remember who they are, but it’s not just them she can’t remember. She can’t remember quite literally anything. She’s the one who’s been impacted the most out of this.

She just kinda wishes they would get that more. Would respect the level of intrapersonal difficulty on her end. 

“Of course.” Brendan frowns, but again, it feels inauthentic. “Well, I won’t keep you, ladies—”

“Good.” 

Mariella bites down on her lip, turning away to hide her smile as Olivia looks straight up annoyed at April’s coldness.

“I’ll see you at the office, Brendan.” Olivia says almost apologetically, dragging her eyes back to her mom who seems completely unapologetic for her tone.

Brendan nods, landing his gaze back on Mariella. “Remember my offer, Ella.”

She can’t even find it in her to nod or acknowledge his departing message because there’s not a single part of Mariella that wants to entertain his offer let alone take him up on it. Does he not know she’s married?

It’s once he’s gone that April turns toward Mariella, a genuine smile replacing the fake one. “Sweetie, can you go wait in the car? I need to speak to your sister.”

There’s a part of her that would like to overhear this probably interesting conversation, but the desire to just be away and by herself is more overpowering.

“Sure.” She accepts the key fob and shopping bag from her mom, not hesitating to turn on her heel and head back toward the parking lot. 

And as soon as she’s gone, Olivia is on April, voice harsh and sharp. “Mother, what the hell was that?”

“Watch your language with me, child.” April’s correction is swift as she crosses her arms. “When did you plan to mention Brendan now works with you?”

“Didn’t realize I had to keep you up to date on the latest hires at my job.” She rolls her eyes, also crossing her arms. “Plus, really, mama? How was that a priority with everything we’ve had happening?”

“Watch it, Olivia.” Aprils loves all her children equally, but Olivia has always been the one to push her close to her limits. “I don’t like that boy. He’s a snake.”

“Oh my gosh…” Olivia turns away for a second, coming back as she points out, “you don’t even know him.”

“I don’t have to know him. You know why? Cause I distinctly remember Joe nearly putting him in the hospital for whatever went down between him and your sister.”

Olivia is taken back for a second. Her mom’s memory is as sharp as the best of them. “You mean when he committed aggravated assault and ruined any chances Brendan had for a basketball career?” 

April, however, is not backing down, showing just where Olivia inherited her stubborn personality. “You ever wonder why Joe reacted the way he did? How bad it must have been for him to get that upset?”

“Oh, please. Mama, let’s not act like Joe hasn’t always been a hothead. He’s just better at masking it than BJ.” And before April can protest, Olivia provides facts. “How many times did you and daddy get a call or called down to the office cause BJ got into it with someone, huh? And more often than not, who’d he get in trouble with? Joe.” Olivia shakes her head. “The only reason they always got slaps on the wrist was because they were athletes. Joe has been problematic, and I’m tired of ya’ll not seeing it.” She blows out a big breath. “Brendan is not a bad guy—”

“You saw how he was looking at your sister.” April stresses, lowering her voice. “Don’t no man have no business looking at a married woman like that unless he’s got bad intentions.”

“Ella isn’t even with Joe right now, so what’s the big deal?”

April is quiet for a moment, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What are you up to, Olivia?” 

Olivia easily slides into deflection. “Mama, you’re always so hyper-vigilant—”

April, however, is wise and knowing. She advises with all the seriousness, “don’t think that because your sister can’t remember nothing that you can just rewrite history.”

“Mama—”

“I’m speaking.” And Olivia quiets down because no matter how old she gets, her mother using that tone will never not be able to set her straight. “Hear me, and hear me good, lil’ girl. Ella is home with us now, yes, but she will be going back to California to be with Joe because he is her husband, and her place is with him.”

———-

Spring, 2023 

“You want to what?”

Iris was already having a not so great day. Some inept, thinks he's a hot shot lawyer actually thinking that he can lowball and bully her into convincing a client to accept a deal that’s absolute horse shit.

She had to, of course, show him just why she’s the most sought after manager in entertainment. Ruthlessly.

The thought of his bubble eyes nearly bulging out of his head at her cutthroat response is almost enough for her to actually smile. A rare anomaly that happens every couple of years but is especially not going to happen after what she just heard.

Mariella rolls her eyes, again repeating herself. “I said I’ll do the tour.”

Iris knew she heard her right. It’s just the shock of it all that made her need some level of clarification. “I’m sorry, you do remember that this is a world tour, Ella, right?” And in case she forgot, Iris reminds, “you’d be on tour for nine months.”

“And?” Ella shrugs, continuing to write in her notebook, lyrics of some sort. “It’ll be a great opportunity to connect with my fans.”

“Fuck your fans, Ella.” Iris is quick and borderline nasty with it. “Who gives a fuck about them?” She sits down on the opposite end of the sofa. “I’m thinking about you.”

Iris sees the way that Ella tenses at that last part. “I’m fine, Iris.”

“Bullshit.” She then asks, almost tentatively. “Ella….have you sp—”

“No.” It’s a firm, harsh, borderline cruel shut down. A complete sentence compacted into a single word.

Iris closes her eyes. “I just think—”

“Get me the contract to sign, Iris. That’s all I need you to do.” 

If only Iris was a ‘yes’ man. “You think this shit is healthy, Ella? You’re running away.”

“I don’t need your judgment.”

“I would never judge you.” And it’s the truth. Iris may judge quite literally everyone else who walks this earth. But not Ella nor Promise Rose, her best friends since she was a child. And especially….especially not Ella. Not after…..after what happened. “But, I just—you’re not happy, Ella.”

There’s a brief second of hesitation. “I wasn’t happy before it happened, Iris.”

Voice softening, Iris calmly contradicts her, “yes, you were.” Ella closes the notebook, pushing it to the side and pulling her legs up to her chest, looking away. Even without a clear look at her face, Iris knows the emotions are brewing. “I just—I think if you tell him—”

“No!” That’s what makes Ella snap her watery gaze back on her best friend turned manager. “I—I can’t. I won’t. He doesn’t deserve to know.”

Iris closes her eyes. “Ella—”

“Have you told anyone?”

Iris is almost offended that Ella could even fix her mouth to ask such a question. Ella knows how massive loyalty and trust are to her. “Of course, not. I would never. I just….I hate to see you like this.”

For as long as Iris has known Ella, she’s always been an annoying ass ray of sunshine. Always seeing the bright side of things. Glass always half full. But in recent months, especially after that….something in her has snapped, has gone away into deep hiding. And usually, this is when Iris would gladly push Ella in the arms of her husband. He’s always been Ella’s safe person. 

Now, Iris can’t even get the two in the same room without an argument breaking out. 

They’re both just so….angry with each other.

Or maybe it’s not anger.

Maybe it’s just hurt.

“That’s why I need to get away, Iris.” Ella all but whispers. “I need….I need a new environment. I feel like I’m surrounded by reminders.” She sniffles, quickly wiping at her eyes. “I just….it hurts too much to stick around and have to constantly relive it. I—” Her voice cracks. “Please….please just get me the contract.”

“I will.” Iris doesn’t agree with this, doesn’t like it at all, but she also knows her best friend can be determined as hell. If she doesn’t handle the tour negotiations, Mariella will do it on her own and sign just anything just to get away. To escape. “But, I still think you should talk to J—”

“I hate him!” 

No one says anything. 

Iris is truly stunned into silence. In the two decades that have transpired since the beginning of her friendship, She has never known Mariella to express such strong sentiments against another human being. It’s almost against her nature. 

But to say such a thing towards Joe? Her person?

Iris now realizes just how deeply this hurt and trauma lies.

That maybe….that maybe their relationship truly is irreparable at this point. That lies, deception, betrayal, and everything else under the sun has destroyed something she once thought indestructible. 

———-

Present 

The last name Joe expected to see pop up on his phone is the exact name that’s flashing along with his contact photo for her which happens to be them a couple years back when they finally went on a long awaited honeymoon to Bora Bora. She’s in front of him, his arms around her, her smile big and wide, eyes closed as he kisses her cheek.

It’s one of his favorite pictures of them, and even after all this time, after everything that’s happened….he hasn’t been able to bring himself to change it.

Even….even when for a brief while, he thought he hated her. 

There’s a second of delay as Joe hits the green button, officially accepting her FaceTime call. 

His connection is the strongest it’s been all day because she’s almost instantly filling his phone screen.

“Hey….”

She smiles, and Joe takes a minute to take her in. The cuts and bruises on her face have almost entirely healed. She doesn’t look as pale as she was laid up in the hospital bed. Her curly hair is pulled into two space buns. “Hi. Is—is this a bad time?” She’s outside, clearly. In her parents backyard on the swing that holds a million and one memories. 

Joe shakes his head. “No.” Even if it was, it wouldn’t make a difference. This is the first time she’s called him since being with her family. He’d make whatever work if need be. “How are you feeling?”

She chuckles, but it’s bitter. Almost resentful. “Overwhelmed.” 

Joe sits up more, naturally asking, “you wanna talk about it?”

“Thank you for actually asking.” Her voice is soft as she leans back into the swing, answering truthfully, “I know they mean well, and they’re just trying to help, but—”

He finds it almost too easy to finish her statement. Knowing her, her tics and whatnot has always been so easy. “It’s too much.”

“I just….” She blows out a breath. “You seem a lot more chill, and….and you ask me what questions I have instead of just telling me shit that I don’t remember and feel any sort of way about, even though I know I should.”

“It’s….it’s gonna take time.” And that’s truly a guesstimate on Joe’s end, because the official medical recommendation on her amnesia is that it’s unknown when or if she’ll ever fully restore her memories.

And he’s still so damn torn on just how he feels about that.

“I was wondering…” She looks down, pausing. This is such an unfamiliar thing for Joe. He’s not used to her being so quiet. His wife is many things, and quiet is none of them. “I know you’re on the road and stuff, but…is there anyway I can like….join you for a bit?” She quickly adds, “I don’t know if that’s even a thing—”

“It is,” he finds himself answering. Quickly. Probably too quickly. “I travel on a bus for the most part, stay in hotels for the rest, so if you wanted—”

“I do,” she also answers quickly. “I just…I think I need something different. This.” She motions between herself and the camera. ��This is a lot easier than having over 30 years of history shoved down my throat.”

Joe feels for her, hates hearing the conflict in her voice, and he doesn’t blame or fault her family. They’re probably doing the best they can. It’s just….not what she needs right now.

“When…..when can I come?”

The almost desperation in her voice catches his attention, creating a sense of excitement in his stomach that’s quickly quenched by the wise reminder that she’s not coming for him. She’s coming to get away. Not that the specific reason makes much of a difference. He just wants to see her.

“When do you want to come?”

She chews down on her bottom lip. “Would tomorrow be too soon?”

His eyes widen a bit as he clarifies. “Tomorrow?”

She nods. “I’m—I’m sure I can get a flight out.”

She could, but he has a better option. “You should use the jet.”

Ri is understandably confused. “Jet?”

Joe has to remind himself yet again to approach this a bit from a tabula rasa standpoint. “You have a private jet. Through your record label.” He does too, but that’s not what’s important right now. He’s also partially confused why they didn’t take it when flying home to Florida, but it’s not a major thing. Nothing worth thinking too much about. 

She makes an ‘O’ with her mouth. “That’s right, we are, like, rich, aren’t we?”

He chuckles. “Now, yes.”

She gives a little smile, asking, “I guess there’s a story there?”

“There’s a lot of stories with us, Ri….” His voice is quiet as he clears his throat, not necessarily wanting to go down that road. “If you’re serious about coming—”

“I am.” She speaks up, shoulders dropping. “I just—I think it’d be nice to spend some time with you. Hear about that part of my life at my own pace.” He nods, understanding where she’s coming from, trying not to put too much into her comment about wanting to directly spend time with him. “Is it just you on the bus?”

“Basically. My cousins sometimes hang out, but they have their own bus, so I gladly kick them out when it starts getting late.”

She smiles, and Joe is close to screenshotting, wanting to add it to his collection when her smile dips into something else, eyes squinting. “J—Jon, right?” Joe sits up more. “And…..Jo—Josh?” He scoffs, in a partial state of disbelief and shock. “They’re….they’re twins, aren’t they?”

He nods, unable to speak. Did….did she really just remember something? On her own?

A frown falls on her face. “I don’t….can’t remember anything other than that and something….I don’t know, something about Uno?” 

Joe laughs. The best laugh he’s had in some time, since this whole nightmare began. “Before your schedule got super crazy, you’d come on the road with me, and you and my cousins always played Uno, and it always ended up being a thing because you all suck and can never agree on the rules.”

She giggles, eyes twinkling with mischief. “And what about you? Are you any good?”

He scoffs. “Better than ya’ll.” 

Her mouth drops open as she declares. “Okay, then we definitely need to play when I get there. Cause I feel like I might surprise ya’ll. Maybe I could beat you.”

Joe makes a sound. “You can try. You've never been able to beat me. None of ya’ll.”

She crosses her arms and exclaims with all the confidence. “Oh, I’ve gotta knock you down a peg. Are you always this arrogant?” She asks, head tilted. 

His correction is calm and assured. “Not arrogant, baby. Confident.” 

Her smile deepens, and Joe finds himself enjoying her company more than he has in some time. Even if it’s through a damn phone. “Yeah, well, you’ve got the looks to back it up. Let’s see if you have the talent.”

She has no idea. “Just remember you asked for this.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes, and they exchange a prolonged locking of gazes. “I—-that’s the first thing I’ve remembered on my own, and you….you didn’t even have to try to force it.” 

She swallows, voice softening. “I’d really like to come see you.”

He wants her to come too. More than she could know. “Text your sister. Everly. Not Olivia. See if she’ll fly out with you. If not, I’ll come. You don’t need to be traveling by yourself.”

Ri frowns. “I don’t—I was medically cleared to travel.”

“Yes, and you did so without incident because your team hadn’t announced you’d been released yet, but now the public knows you’re out. They spot you, and the fucking paparazzi will be all over you. You don’t need that.” Mariella has never enjoyed the constant flashing of lights and cameras in her face anyway. 

He doesn’t want her dealing with that on her own. “Okay.” She then asks, “Why not ask Olivia?”

Joe debates how to approach this. “Your sister and I….we’ve never gotten along. If she knows you’re coming to see me, she’ll probably decline to travel with you. Everly is more or less a flower child. She’ll be fine with it.”

It’s the best answer he can come up with in the moment. He happens to think Olivia is a certified bitch who sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong, but he would never do anything to create a biased view of how she sees her sister.

Anyone in her family. 

Ri chuckles, and he half expects her to ask why her sister doesn’t like her husband, but she instead hits him with something unexpected. “Do you know who Brendan is?”

And just like that, any relaxed state he had is ripped away with a single name. “Brendan?” She nods. “Where did you see him? How?”

She seems taken back by his questions, and he hates bombarding her, but that fucker is one person that always will be able to get Joe to act out of character. 

She honestly offers more information than he was expecting. “I—today at the promenade out with my mom and sister. I get the sense my mom doesn’t like him, but Olivia seemed friendly. I guess they work together.”

Fucking Olivia….yeah, Joe’s definitely gonna have to bite the bullet and text her. Because in no way, shape, or form does he want that son of a bitch anywhere around his Ri. And the fact that he may even be a fucking attorney or lawyer blows Joe’s mind.

That creep should be the one in jail. 

“He’s not a good person, and he needs to stay the fuck away from you.” Before she can ask anything else, he tells her, “let me know what Everly says. If not, I’ll have a flight out tomorrow morning.” He’s definitely got to get her out of there now. He wants to put and keep as much distance between Mariella and Brendan as possible, and if she remembered just why they broke up, she’d want the same. 

Mariella nods. “I—I can call her now.”

“Do that.”

She swallows. “Okay.” Mariella opens her mouth and seems to hesitate for a minute. “Thank you, Joe.”

Her thanking him feels weird, because he’s never looked for that from her. Never really wanted it really. Just wanted her. Her love. Her trust.

Getting into that not so great place, he shakes his head, reminding, “just text me whenever you find out, I’ll keep my notifications on.

This seems to please her. “Okay.” She gives him another smile. Of a parting and appreciative nature. “Bye.”

“Bye.” She ends the call, and despite him deep down knowing he should wait until he’s calmed down a bit to message Olivia, Joe’s fingers seem to move faster than his brain. 

[hotchs-bitch]

The List || A. Hotchner x Fem!Reader

summary: you and Aaron check off a few new boxes.

kinks: D/s, daddy kink, threesome, mistress kink, praise kink, degradation, thigh riding

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader, emily prentiss x reader

content/warnings: in case it wasn’t clear SMUT 18+ CONTENT MINORS DNI

wordcount: 3.5k

You’ve been dating Aaron for a few years now, so you like to think you’re something of an expert on all things Hotchner. There are plenty of people, your coworkers included, who think he’s all work and no play. That simply isn’t true. At work, yes, he’s a stark professional, to his core. But they don’t see him at home, playing with his son and basking in the domestic glow the three of you have created in your little apartment. And they certainly don’t see the type of play the two of you get up to, either. 

One of the tenets of Aaron’s work/play separation was that work stayed in the office. He had a home office, for when he needed it, but even there– nothing BAU-related got past the threshold. When he was home, he was home for you and for his son— work would wait as long as it reasonably could. So when you see him flipping through some paperwork in bed, you’re admittedly confused. 

“Whatcha doing?” You ask, pure curiosity in your tone. 

“I was just looking over the list. It’s been a while since we did these, I thought it might be worth taking another peek at,” he explains, looking at you over the readers you had bought for him a year ago, that he valiantly resisted for three months before finally admitting that they helped. 

He’s talking about your kink lists, which explains why he’s made it out of the office. Just shy of a year into your relationship, you’d broached the subject of introducing a dynamic into your sex lives, just to see if you liked it. Aaron had agreed, but insisted on doing his own, extensive research beforehand. He, admittedly, was wary about the idea of hurting you– even in a consensual way— and wanted to make sure he was fully prepared, both for him and for you. So he’d presented both of you with lists— you checked off things you knew you liked, things you thought you might want to try, and things you definitely didn’t want to do. 

“Why don’t you check yours, too,” he says, passing you your copy of the list. “Make sure it all still looks accurate. We’ve tried a lot of this stuff, so if you don’t actually like it—”

“Aaron, you know I’d tell you if I didn’t. I’d safeword if I needed to, or I’d tell you after the scene if I didn’t. You wouldn’t hurt me and I wouldn’t let you,” you remind him. 

“I’d still like you to look. Maybe things we haven’t tried that sounded appealing then, don’t now. Or maybe you’ve found that you like things more than you thought you would. It’s all good to know,” he encourages you.

You agree, climbing into bed and taking the paper and pen that he’d offered. You move some maybes that you had tried into the solid yes column, and a couple into the no column, too, but there aren’t any major changes. After a few minutes, you switch, and you find Aaron’s form to be more or less the same. You’re not surprised, really— You and Aaron have an open line of communication. There were no surprises. 

“So, I was thinking I might surprise you,” Aaron pipes up. You stand corrected. 

“Oh?” You say. 

“You’ve been working your ass off lately, between the team and the Academy Trainee course Strauss pulled you for,” he explains. “I wanted to do something fun for you. I noticed you still had ‘experience with two or more partners’ and ‘experience with a same-sex partner’ checked off as things you’d like to try…” he trails off nervously, and you can tell just by looking at him that he’s wondering if he should beg the floor to swallow him whole rather than continue this conversation. 

“That would be a very special gift,” you agree with a smile, putting him out of his misery. “But who? I don’t necessarily want to bring a stranger into the apartment,” you say. 

“You can say no, and we can never talk about it again,” he assures you. “But I was thinking… maybe Emily?” 

You mull it over for a moment, taking Aaron’s hand in your own to let him know that you’re thinking, not shocked into silence. You… kind of like the idea of it. “Have you talked to her about it at all?”

“Not about joining us,” he says, and his phrasing is specific. You know him too well for that. 

“But you’ve talked to her about… our dynamic?” You ask, confused. It’s not your real question— you know he’d never tell someone else about this without asking you, first. 

“No, no,” he corrects. “That case a few months back, where the men were all bound— she floated the idea privately with me that the unsub may be a dominatrix, and it came up naturally, that she’s… similarly minded.” 

“But with less murder,” you joke. 

“Like I said, we can pretend I never even brought it up.” 

“No!” You correct a little too quickly, making Aaron chuckle. “I want to. You can ask her about it.” 

“I will,” he says, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you.” 

+++++++

Emily says yes the next day when Hotch asks her about it. It’s the waiting that’s torture. It’s two whole weeks before the three of you find a day that works for everyone– and if you thought that was bad, the hours leading up to it were even worse. 

You’re on edge the whole day— you’re nervous, yes, but it’s an excited kind of nervous, like the moments after you pull the safety harness down on a roller coaster. You plod around the house all afternoon, tidying things that don’t need to be tidied and wiping down the countertops, mopping the floor, baking a banana bread just to do something with your hands. 

You nearly jump when Aaron wraps his arms around you from behind. “Go take a bath and ground yourself, my love. Use your fancy bubbles and take some deep breaths. I left you something to wear, it’s hanging up on the back of the bathroom door. Emily will be here in a bit. Would you like to sit with us while I explain your limits to her, or do you want me to do it?” 

“You can do it,” you tell him softly. 

“Okay angel. Then you go on up, take your bath and put on the pretty outfit Daddy got you, and sit at the foot of the bed and wait for us, okay?” 

“Okay, daddy. Thank you.” 

He smiles, giving you a quick kiss. “Nothing to thank me for. See you in a little bit.” 

You go upstairs and see that Aaron has already drawn the bath for you, and has set out your favorite soaps and bubble bath and a fluffy, warm towel. You sink into the warm bath, and let yourself soak, focusing on your breathing. It helps. Once you feel ready, you drain the tub and look over to the lingerie Aaron had bought for you. It’s a lacy red bodysuit, and it’s crotchless. You get yourself good and dry before slipping into it, not wanting the delicate material to get caught on your wet skin. Once you’re dressed, you go into the bedroom and kneel at the foot of the bed the way you normally would if you were playing with just Aaron. You can hear the two of them talking, laughing, even, as you sit and wait for them. 

Your anticipation builds the longer you listen to them– are they still talking about limits? Are they plotting– deciding what toys they’ll use, how they’ll tease you, when they’ll let you come? You can feel yourself getting turned on the longer you sit and think about it— you wonder if that’s part of their plan, too. 

You snap back to attention when you hear footsteps coming up the staircase, straightening your spine and turning your gaze towards the floor. 

The door swings open— you don’t move. You know better. 

“Aw, she’s so cute,” Emily cooes. You feel warmth rise to your cheeks, try to bite down on your smile. 

“Kitten, why don’t you say hello to our guest?” 

You look up now, at Aaron. “What should I call her, Daddy?”

Aaron looks to Emily, who answers. “You have such good manners, sweet girl. You can call me Mistress.” 

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you for coming,” you tell her with a smile. Looking her in the eyes for the first time makes this feel a hundred times more real, and you can tell that when they finally touch you, you’ll be soaked. 

“Thank you for inviting me,” she smiles. “I understand that you and your daddy have a lot of fun together. I’m excited to have some fun with you, too.”

“Come here, kitten,” Aaron beckons, and you oblige him, crawling a few paces across the carpet and coming to sit next to his left hand. He runs a hand through your hair.

“Ladies first,” Aaron smirks, looking over to Emily.

Emily crouches down, nearly eye-to-eye with you, but she’s still a bit taller. She traces a finger down your cheekbone and the column of your neck, over your shoulder, sneering a little at the goosebumps that appear in the wake of her gentle touch. She pinches your nipple through the fabric of your lingerie, and you gasp a little, not expecting the sensation. 

“Hmm,” Emily murmurs a contented little noise at your reaction, not letting up on her grip. “A good pinch, or a bad pinch?” She checks in. 

“A good pinch, Mistress,” you assure her through gritted teeth. 

She smiles. “Good,” she says, reaching for the other nipple, rolling it between her thumb and index finger. She gives them both a sharp pull, causing you to cry out, before she stands back up. 

“That’s it?’Aaron scoffs. 

“We have the whole night ahead of us,” Emily reminds him. “I’d take advantage while I’m still in a sharing mood.”

He rolls his eyes goodnaturedly, pulling you to your feet. “The thing about my sweet little slut, is that you don’t even need to touch anything significant to turn her into a mess,” he informs Emily as he uses his big hands to spread your thighs apart. You suddenly remember that your panties are crotchless, and tense up, worried that you’ll drip on the carpet before you’ve even begun. For his part, Aaron seems determined to make this happen— he kisses his way up your thighs, sucking at the tender flesh nearest where you were practically pulsing for him, but intentionally ignoring any action that would provide you with any relief. You take in a sharp little breath, trying not to whine. 

“That’s it. I can smell you, already. You like that, don’t you, angel?” He whispers against your skin. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you answer breathlessly. 

“I know, I know,” he says sympathetically as he rises to his feet. “But not yet,” he whispers before sucking a bruise into your neck. 

“Let’s move this party over to the bed, shall we?” Emily says, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the mattress, stripping herself of her pants and her top. Aaron follows suit, losing all of his clothes and climbing on top of the mattress, giving his cock a few cursory strokes, spreading out the precum that had gathered at his tip. Emily gestures to her thigh, and you straddle it accordingly. 

“Why don’t you tell me more about your daddy, angel?” Emily encourages you as her fingers sink into the flesh of your thigh and pull, encouraging you to rock against her. 

You oblige, riding her thigh as you speak. “I love my daddy. He takes very good care of me,” you say as you rock against her once, readjusting to try and find a better angle for your clit. “He reminds me to drink water and take care of myself,” you continue rocking and find the place where your clit rubs up against her thigh in just the right way, moaning a little. “And he always reminds me that I’m his good little slut. He loves to make me cum,” you say, your humping gaining intensity, causing you to moan a little “Oh, and I love to make him come too,” you say, chasing your release against her. 

“How do you like to make Daddy come?’ Emily asks, pushing your hair out of your face where it’s sticking to your sweat. 

“I like to take his cock in my mouth,” you moan. “I like feeling him all the way down my throat. Oh, Mistress, may I come?” You ask as your rocking against her grows more frantic.

‘Not yet, baby. It’s too early,” she cooes. “Keep going. I heard Daddy call you a name earlier, do you like that? Do you like when we call you pathetic little names?” 

“Yes, Mistress. I like to be called a needy little whore, or Daddy’s desperate slut.” You cry out.

“Oh, you are a desperate slut, aren’t you? Trying to come on Mistress’s thigh,” 

“Yes, yes, I’m a desperate slut,” you agree, hoping your acquiescence will earn you an orgasm. 

“Good girl. Stop,” she orders, and you hold back your sigh, not wanting to be punished. You step away from her, get back into your kneeling position on the floor. From your new vantage point, you can see Aaron– he’s been stroking his cock, watching you and Emily. He’s erect and slick, and you’ve never wanted him in your mouth more. You’re practically drooling. 

“Kitten, you’ve made quite the mess of my thigh,” Emily tuts. 

“I’m sorry Mistress. May I clean up my mess?” 

“Of course, go ahead,” She grants you permission, and you begin to lick your own arousal off of her. Her skin is so soft, and she smells so nice, that you start to get lost in it, mouthing at her long after is necessary, until you feel a tug at your scalp. 

“Don’t get distracted, kitten. Daddy’s waiting for you,” Emily reminds you, gesturing to the other side of the bed. You crawl over, looking at Aaron with glassy eyes. 

“Daddy, may I suck your cock, please?” 

“Hmm, let’s see,” Aaron says, extending two fingers, which you greedily pull into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down on them and taking them as deep as you can manage for a few moments until Aaron pulls them away. 

“Come on up, angel,” Aaron says, pulling you into bed. “Go ahead,” he grants you permission, and you settle between his legs, licking the underside of his cock and looking up at him as you do so.

As soon as you have as much of Aaron as you can take in your mouth, you feel two fingers sink inside of you– Emily’s, you realize with a moan. 

“Thank you, mistress,” you warble out without removing Aaron’s cock from your mouth. 

“Focus angel. Mistress had her turn, now Daddy wants you all to himself. Don’t get distracted.” 

“Yes, daddy,” you answer, refocusing your efforts on him, Even as Emily makes you squirm and whimper under her touch.

“Your pussy is so tight, sweet girl. Does Mistress make you feel good?” 

“Yes, mistress, feels so good,” you answer, but as soon as you do, you feel a sharp spank to your backside. 

“Focus, slut. Don’t make me remind you again,” Aaron says. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say, taking him in your mouth again. 

You’re content for a few moments, but when Emily removes her fingers from inside of you, you can’t help but whine. 

“I’m feeling neglected, here. Kitten, why don’t you lay back against the pillows,” Emily encourages, and you look up at Aaron for permission, which he grants with a simple nod, getting up and taking one of his pillows with him. 

“Lift your hips,” He tells you as Emily comes to the head of the bed. 

Aaron slides a pillow underneath you just as Emily comes to straddle your face. “Mistress and Daddy want to come, angel, and then you can, okay?” Emily explains. 

“Yes, Mistress,” you say, craning your neck up to kiss her entrance. 

“Good girl, go ahead,” she tells you, lowering herself down towards you. You mouth at her with purpose, trying to remember all of the tricks you like best when Aaron does them on you, paying attention to which maneuvers make her tense up and cry out. 

A few moments later, you feel Aaron’s cock sink into you, and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head– you feel so deliciously full, not to mention how thoroughly fucked you had been throughout the evening. You felt… saturated, in the best way. Each one of your senses was laser-focused on pleasure. You were so grateful to Aaron for doing this for you– the thought motivated you, had you kicking it into high gear with Emily. 

“Oh, good girl. You’re going to make Mistress come. You’re going to make me so happy. Don’t stop, angel. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t— fuck!” She cries out as she reaches her peak, her pleasure overwhelming you. 

“Good girl. You did such a good job, you made mistress so happy,” Emily cooes breathlessly as she gets off of you, not wanting to suffocate you when she collapses against the mattress to catch her breath. She leans in, starts to kiss your neck. “Where’d you learn to do that, sweet girl? Is my perfect angel a little slut?” she asks, mouthing at any exposed skin she can reach. 

“Yes, Mistress, I’m a little slut,” you agree. 

“Who’s slut?” Aaron booms as he pounds into you. 

“Your slut, Daddy. I’m your slut,” you amend.

“That’s right, kitten. Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You, daddy, my slutty pussy belongs to you!” You cry out as he taps your clit, and it sends him over the edge. He keeps pumping in and out of you as he comes, and Emily reaches down to your clit, rubbing at it. 

“Go ahead, come. You earned it, baby, come.” 

“Daddy?” You cry out, wanting to make sure you have permission. 

“Yes, angel. Come for Daddy, my perfect girl. You did so good.” 

You careen over the edge at his praise, arching your back and letting out a moan that turns into a cry. You’d been on edge for so long— before Emily had even arrived today, and it made the relief that much more gratifying. 

“Thank you,” you pant out as you come back down to Earth. 

“Give her a minute to settle,” Aaron warns Emily– the two of you had learned that rushing into aftercare could be a little overwhelming, so Aaron usually gave you a moment to catch your breath before he touched you. 

“You did such a good job, my sweet girl. I’m so proud of you,” Aaron whispers gently. “When you’re ready, I want you to sit up for me, okay my love?” 

You nod a little, taking another few deep breaths and scooting up towards the mattress. 

“Good,” he whispers. “I will be right back,” he says, climbing off the mattress and leaving the room momentarily. 

“Did you have fun?” Emily asks quietly, screwing the cap off of a bottle of water and handing it to you. 

You gulp at it aggressively while you nod. “Yeah, I did. Did you?” 

“Careful, you’ll get a stomachache,” she warns. “I had fun, but this was a treat for you.” 

“Still. It’s only fun if everyone’s having fun,” you remind her. “Would you… want to do it again sometime?” She asks, feeling bold. 

“Yeah. You should talk to Aaron first, though,” Emily says. 

“Talk to Aaron about what?” He comes back to the room with a plate of fruit and a damp washcloth, sounding concerned. 

“Nothing, baby. Later,” you assure him, and he gives you a little look that lets you know that he’s holding you to it. 

“Alright, angel. You need to eat something, and I need to clean you up,” he says, handing you the plate and bringing the washcloth between your thighs. You extend the plate towards Emily, and she takes a strawberry, popping it between her lips as you bite down into a crunchy apple slice. 

“Em, you should feel free to stay, if—” Aaron starts, but she cuts him off. 

“I’d love to, but I can’t. Sergio is a very lonely boy,” she explains. “But this was a lot of fun. Thank you both for inviting me,” she says, kissing you both on the forehead as she dresses and packs up her stuff. Aaron insists on walking her to the door and watching her get into her car, as if she didn’t have a handgun in her purse and enough combat training to take out half of Northern Virginia. You’re snuggled up against his pillow when he returns, and he smiles. 

“You had fun, angel?” He asks as he climbs into bed, pulling you into his chest. 

“Of course I did. This whole thing just begs the question…” you start, trailing off. 

“Begs what question?” Aaron asks. 

“Who are we going to invite over to check off those boxes for you?” 

[oatlystrawberryicecream]

the way that some people talk about jason and batman and the joker is so jarring to me because it relies on some unspoken assumptions that i will never buy into

1. the assumption that taking a life inevitably always makes the person who did it worse. killing someone isn’t always this earth shattering thing that harms the person who does it and fundamentally changes their outlook on things. i guess if you have never met a veteran or someone who survived an armed robbery or any number of other things you might make that mistake, but like some of the people who fought in wwii came home and were normal members of the community and the times that their bullets hit the mark were not necessarily the parts of the war that kept them up at night. these assumptions that once you kill you are wicked and have to feel bad and do this whole show of repentance are insidious. if you are gonna look at all this through the lens of christian morality you should at least be aware that that is what you are doing but you cant have just one character be wicked and unclean because of his actions when the bible says that everyone is wicked and unclean by our nature and all sins are equal. a lot of people object to that view but if thats how you see it batman and jason and the joker are all sinners and are all as bad as each other so at least be consistant about how you apply that moral framework.

2. the assumption that being robin or being taken in and trained by bruce means full agreement with and acceptance of every part of bruce’s personal philosophy on justice and morality. jason was a homeless child and even if all this was explicitly laid out for him he could not have agreed since he needed bruce as a matter of survival. bruce’s ideology is extremely important to him and he can teach it to his children all he wants but they are not beholden to it above all else the way he thinks they should be. jason has to live according to his own beliefs regardless of how unacceptable bruce finds it and it is unfair and hypocritical of bruce to get bent out of shape about it.

3. the assumption that killing is always bad. maybe i have listened to too many episodes of behind the bastards but some people will do significant and appalling damage to others no matter what unless they are dead. those people can’t be allowed to keep causing harm. it isn’t glorious and there is no honor about it but it is right and just that they be stopped. there is no reason to strive for purity or ideological high ground when you can provide a measure of safety and justice to victims and prevent future harm instead.

4. the assumption that bruce didn’t have to answer to jason. parents have a duty to their children and it is my opinion that that duty does not end when the child dies. bruce adopted jason and made himself responsible and accountable for everything that happened to jason under his care. that responsibility was ignored over many instances. i am not going to detail the things that led to jason’s death here but it was not good or effective parenting. after jason’s death the disrespect starts pretty immediately with bruce compromising evidence of his murder in order to preserve his ability to continue as batman and continues with bruce getting rid of pretty much all traces of jason’s presence in his life. he is only spoken of as a mistake, a lost cause, or a cautionary tale and is assigned blame for his own death, a death that batman never bothered to fully investigate since he was buried next to the woman who led him into the trap. a new kid is endangered and the joker and batman both continue doing whatever they want as if jason’s life only matters for the way it affects them. bruce needs to answer for all of this, as his son jason has a right to expect more from his father. now the extent to which that extends can be debated but it is clear to me that jason deserved better from bruce.

conclusion: killing is accepted in society in certain circumstances, you may or may not agree with this but self defense laws and even things like jury nullification exist because people knew there should be some wiggle room since no one could have the full context of every situation that would ever arise. ending a life is not normal or ideal but it is not an unfathomably rare experience and it does not always weigh on the person who does it. bruce has never to my knowledge killed someone so he has no idea how he would actually respond but that still isn’t even what jason was asking him to do. all he had to do was be present and not move and he would have been the only parental figure who didn’t let jason down.

[tiddygame]

i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs

the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:

tw: description of a panic attack? i think?

[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]

imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.

now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.

everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.

if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.

it's why he learned to always wear the mask.

when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.

he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.

the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.

he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”

what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.

he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.

…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.

scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.

so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.

when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.

the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.

simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.

with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)

johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).

when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.

their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)

ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.

in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.

“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.

“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.

“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?

“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?

“yes.”

but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.

jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.

ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.

fuck.

he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.

stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.

he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.

both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.

ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.

they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”

it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.

he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.

“do that again.”

ghost just gave him a confused look.

“smile.”

such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.

…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.

“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.

“please?”

fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.

ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.

soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.

“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”

ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.

his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.

he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.

“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?

ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.

“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.

“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.

ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”

“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.

“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—

“no.”

the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.

“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.

“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.

one last chance to not fuck everything up.

“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”

“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”

he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.

he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.

johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.

“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”

ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.

“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.

“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”

his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.

johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”

there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.

“johnny-”

“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”

he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”

johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”

simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”

“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”

“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.

johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”

he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.

“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”

“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.

“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.

ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?

“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.

johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.

“did you think i was being serious earlier?”

“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.

johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”

“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”

johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”

simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?

johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.

“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.

ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?

it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.

he needs to sleep.

[kiirotoao]

Navigating Concessions: The Case Against and For Byler

Alright, so this sounds insane coming from a Byler, I know. But just to really tease out all of the reasons why I like/ship Byler, I want to try something. (I’ve also been receiving a small influx of questions arguing against Byler, so that’s where this idea came from.)

I’m going to try to examine some moments that raise questions amidst Mike and Will’s relationship and try to explain them as if there’s nothing romantic going on. Nothing. After that, I’m going to go into why I do see things as potentially romantic.

1. “It was a seven.” (s1)

Well, obviously nothing’s going on, here. It’s the first 8 minutes of the show, and we’re just establishing the characters. The purpose of this scene was to show that Will is honest, and it’s nothing new to Mike. Showing Mike’s reaction is to emphasize just that - this is a normal occurrence, and he has no idea what’s going to happen next.

The thing about this scene that I love is that it’s simple and to-the-point. It’s true! Nothing is happening here, not yet, and that’s the point. Even in normalcy, Will trusts Mike. Even though this is a setup of what’s about to happen to Will, this ends up being the defining point of Will’s character that allows us to root for him. I can agree that nothing romantic is necessarily happening here, but it’s really sweet that the show decided to start here with the two of them over anyone else in The Party.

2. “Crazy together.” (s2)

In this scene, they’re literally talking about the Mind Flayer and El. It’s not about themselves. To say that this is a true heart-to-heart is not genuine. They’re confiding in each other after Will went through a bad episode and Mike is simply empathizing with him. To say that entrusting in someone with your deepest secrets is romantic is untrue, because friends do it all the time. This was probably included just to show how Mike and Will dealt with their traumatic experiences.

This is already getting painful and I regret everything. So the biggest counter point I know for this scene is that indeed, Mike brings up El. Therefore, his mind is on her, right? Well, it’s actually a lot more fleeting than that. He brings her up, but he immediately drops it and focuses on Will right after. Subject matter is often used as a point of contention for Byler/Mleven because the topic is always Mleven, but this time, it’s just plainly untrue. Mike and Will are talking about this encounter with the Mind Flayer, and Mike is empathizing with Will by bringing up a situation similar to his through El. He thinks of her as a claim to his main point, being there for Will. Mike is sweetly giving his time and his comfort to Will, and they’re both being vulnerable about their fears. You simply cannot deny their vulnerability to each other that’s uniquely theirs. This exploration and presentation of intimate traumas is so sweet of them to confide in each other.

3. The shed scene (s2)

This scene is heartbreaking. Will is possessed, here. We don’t know if he can fully hear Mike, evidently because he’s struggling to express himself. Everyone is fighting to get Will back from the Mind Flayer. This moment is sweet as it sheds (haha) light on Mike and Will’s origin story as best friends for years, which doesn’t include anything romantic of the sort. It’s just a retelling of them meeting on a swingset and choosing to be best friends. It’s cute, but it’s nothing much more than that. Plus, Mike is speaking alongside Will’s family, so he’s directly parallel to family in this sequence.

First and foremost to counter this - guess who isn’t here? Dustin and Lucas, who definitely have memories of Will in their lives, right? But no, neither of them are there. They’re needed to transcribe the Morse code that Will taps while Mike is there, in the fray, giving his all to fight for Will. And Mike is in tears. This scene tugs at the heart because it remains one of the most vulnerable moments Mike has ever shown onscreen. And yes, Will may not fully hear him, but Will is trying. Mike is the third person he’s hearing from, and it’s clear that Will is in a state of struggle. He’s not given up, not succumbed to the power of the Mind Flayer just yet. Will almost cries, too. We only see his face fully harden again when Joyce speaks to him after this scene with Mike. I love this scene because of how emotional it is. Mike is doing everything he can to keep Will present, loving him alive alongside the two people who’ve raised him. To me, this isn’t simply a display of Mike being like family, it’s a display of Mike’s intimacy with Will that’s just as strong as the other people who’ve loved him his entire life.

4. The rain scene (s3)

This one seems obvious and plain enough, Mike and Will don’t get each other. They’re arguing, disagreeing about what teenage-hood is, and they both very clearly define it differently. Mike comes to Will trying to understand him, arguing that he’s just prioritizing his girlfriend at this point in life and that he can’t pay attention to everything that he once did. In contrast, Will says that he just wants thing to stay the same with The Party together, playing D&D, having fun like they used to. He and Mike are no longer on level ground. When Mike says, “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls,” it’s the final indication that he knows that he himself likes girls and that they cannot be on the same field since Will doesn’t appear to want the same things that he does and can’t relate to Mike because he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Mike also continues to talk about El and how he clearly prioritizes her. Will just isn’t growing up the same as Mike and Mike clearly isn’t into Will. He hasn’t been all season. He’s just spelling that out here since Will prompted him to.

On the surface, they’re separating. At the core, they’re not on the same level. But underneath, they’re just trying to learn what the other wants. Once again, if this was meant to highlight the separation of the friend group, where are Dustin and Lucas? Dustin’s far away, but Lucas could have come in. He’s right there at the Wheeler’s house. But no, he’s not there. This is a scene between Mike and Will alone as they defeatedly explain why they’re upset as a final plea to each other. Will starts it, Mike carries it. Just like the “crazy together” scene, this is an exclusive moment between them as they share what’s on their hearts, and El is on Mike’s mind as an added point to his perspective compared to Will’s. I’m always so fascinated by Mike’s wording because by saying “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls,” he emphasizes Will’s lack of attraction rather than lack of a romantic relationship which raises a question to me of why Mike would peel back that layer in the first place. It’s not answered fully here, but it raises the question nonetheless, and to ignore that and say it’s just Mike merely drawing a line of differentiation between them is shallow. All in all, yes, they don’t get each other. But that’s why we have this scene, because they’re trying to find out, and based on the way their breaks in conversation leaven them both rather stunned, maybe they know each other more than meets the eye.

5. “Not possible.” (s3)

This scene lasts, like, ten seconds long. It’s far too insignificant to analyze, and anyone who does is looking way too deeply into the subtext. This scene highlights that Mike and Will are still friends and still can very much miss each other like anyone would when a close friend is moving away. It’s a sealant to their once broken relationship to set up their friendship continuing on and that the both of them still like D&D and that the game as well as The Party as a whole will continue to be relevant to the story. If anything, this moment sets up that Will is in love with Mike as only he makes the promise to not join another party, showing his loyalty to Mike that Mike does not explicitly reciprocate. This entire thing was included in the show to give the audience a breath of closure for them this season and show that they still are close. This one hurt to write, too. Holy shit.

The show very well could have shown us that Mike and Will’s relationship was still intact through the hug sequences during Hopper’s letter, but nope, we get another exclusive Mike and Will moment. Once again, Dustin and Lucas are pointedly not here, making this not about The Party but them in it. And this time, it’s through the thing they argued about and both still clearly wanted to commit to, further disproving the idea that Mike has grown up way faster than Will and was truly ready to ditch D&D. Mike even brings up joining another party first. Will simply replies to him. And the smiles that they give each other are so sweet. Comparing how Mike is left confused and frowning when El leaves him to this little glowing smirk when Will leaves him is insane. Will makes Mike smile; it’s a tiny flirt that can go unnoticed, but the brevity helps not to call out too much unneeded attention to it, otherwise, would them flirting for minutes on end seem appropriate after the reality that they’re parting ways and helping the Byers move out? I don’t think so. Still, it’s rather key to me that they filmed this exchange between the sadness. It’s a breath of closure alright, one that looks up on their relationship.

6. The airport scene (s4)

This scene is so undeniably awkward. There’s literally nothing romantic about two friends reuniting like this. It’s strained, Will’s lying here about the painting being “nothing,” and Mike makes terse and disinterested remarks. He’s clearly not focused on Will. Just before this, by contrast, he was able to kiss El, hug her, and he gave her flowers. This puts a gap between Mike and Will to set up how they become “best friends” again later on, setting them apart on a journey of growth that stays platonic. It’s pretty obvious that Mike doesn’t really care about Will right then.

This scene is undeniably awkward. But y’know who Mike isn’t awkward around? Literally everyone else in his life. He can hug everyone he loves except for Will. And yes, he kissed El, but it’s been established that they kissed a lot the summer before and can do that instinctively, and yet Mike cannot write that “love, Mike.” Will then responds with doubt upon seeing Mike so closed off to him, not wanting to give away something that Mike may not accept or treat well even after so much hard work has been put into it. It’s a moment of testing the waters, and yeah, Mike doesn’t pass the vibe check, but it helps to set up how differently Mike actually thinks very exclusively regarding Will: “Hawkins, it’s not the same without you.” If Mike simply didn’t care and they started from the bottom, why is he talking about home and being a team literally two days after this with Will alone? This scene sets up not just a growth of friendship but of the bond these two have that not even awkwardness or ignoring it can deny.

7. The apology scene (s4)

So now we get to the days after the awkwardness. Being back together, Mike is able to see how rude he was and how much he still values Will. These two are unstoppable when it comes to overcoming dangers, and Mike knows that. He simply misses his friend who’s been through so much together with him. He brings up platonic terms like “team” and “best friends,” clearly wanting Will back in his life as just that, a best friend by his side. Best friends reconcile after bad arguments all the time. This was finally making up for not seeing their forgiveness after last season’s fight. This scene highlights their maturity to understand wrongs and overcome self-doubt, establishing their working together for the rest of the season to come.

Alright, I couldn’t even pretend to deny their togetherness in the concession. Because seriously, no one can tell me that this scene wasn’t romantic. Mike, completely and admittedly unprompted (re: “oh, I didn’t say it” “you didn’t have to”), comes into Will’s room, shuts the door and establishes privacy before he lays down his heart not only at the Rink-O-Mania but for the “year” before it and how Hawkins isn’t the same without Will. Yes, he mentions platonic terms, and yes, he never says “god, I needed you” or “I love you,” but did he have to? The intimacy and visually private moment is so very clearly written between these two alone. You don’t get these types of moments often between mere platonic characters. This type of outpouring is written and framed with a closeness that’s almost uncomfortable for the audience. Just look at how they react to each other. They’re on the verge of tears, happy, relieved, and excited to be back together as a unit. It’s a sure sign of Mike’s maturity as he doesn’t just brush this off or play it down in a merely friendly way. This is focused, this is only for Will. It’s a reconciliation as well as a promise. Again, no, it’s not openly romantic, but it sure as hell serves as an example that Mike can be vulnerable and tenderhearted to Will just as Will gives grace to him.

So, I mean, I don’t know. Are there any arguments I missed? Because I remain pretty unshaken. Byler’s endgame and all the setup is there despite the concessions.

[bambi-kinos]

Hopefully, this ask is a fun one! I've noticed that a lot of times you mention Paul is a bottom, and honestly, I agree 1000% per cent, but I'm curious how you came to that conclusion

For me, I feel like it was a result of tons of reading up on him, body language + his lyrics, and I think the whole control freak (misleading in a way too) part makes some fans think he's a top. Meanwhile, I sit here and think, nope, he's totally a bottom lmao

A lot of it is just wish fulfillment as a result of Paul's bus-sized ass. We're not the only ones thinking about it:

Like it would be a crime if John didn't fuck Paul in the ass. Right??? So it's easy to think "yeah Paul is a bottom" rofl.

But more seriously, I view Paul as a bottom for a number of reasons.

The first is simply how long John and Paul knew each other and how they naturally shaped each other's interests and desires. Paul may not have been that 'swishy' (i.e. effeminate) if he had never met John in the first place. It's easy to see how John and Paul's understanding of homosexuality would have shaped their presentation and the roles they took with one another. Like, in modern times two gay guys can just be Guys Being Dudes. They can both take shirtless selfies of themselves holding up fish with the 🤙 going "shaka braaahhh." In the mid 20th century this idea was not terribly widespread so even among gay people there was an impression of "well someone has to be the woman and it's not going to be me."

So I think that's a big part of it. It's impossible to know how conscious a decision this was but IMO John and Paul reached a consensus of some sort that Paul would take up the feminine role in response to John's masculine one. It's a natural (for a given value of 'natural') position for the feminine half to be the one who is penetrated. Paul, who has demonstrated a number of times his sharp awareness of homosexual activity and how society perceives it, would know this. And he took up that position anyway and kept with it, voluntarily. (And to be clear I think Paul stimulated John's butch attitude and grew that to make John more overtly masculine as well. This goes both ways.)

It's not hard to see why this happened. John is a lot more naturally traditionally masculine than Paul is, no matter what John said about being "soft velvet" and "le Oscar Wilde!!11!!1!" He's the one who got into bar fights and hammered the shit out of other men. He's the subject of a rumor about kicking Stuart in the head, not Paul. Personally I think Paul is perfectly capable of violence, even extreme violence, but he simply isn't perceived that way due to his feminine appearance. Meanwhile John is overtly aggressive and in your face about it, even when going through his druggie periods, which is simply a more traditionally masculine trait no matter how you slice it.

I guess what I'm saying is, Paul responded to and was shaped by John's personality and preferences. John likes to fuck, Paul leans more towards feminine expression, feminine = 'the one who is fucked' not necessarily 'the one who fucks.'

I don't believe they were thinking about this as teenagers (and I don't think they did anything besides circlejerking before Hamburg.) And Paul likes using his dick! However it seems obvious to me that John woke something up in Paul that would have naturally lain dormant under other circumstances. John had a habit of doing this for people, he woke them up to their higher inclinations that got them out of their boxes and I 100% believe that he nudged Paul's 'swishiness' awake and that Paul quietly used this to get out of the box other people wanted to keep him in. He was able to embrace this more fully while with Linda. For Paul, that swishiness comes packaged with a certain set of implications and to me there's no reason why he wouldn't embrace that.

That's not to say that he was completely gung-ho from the start. People who write Paul going 'wtf I'm not doing that' in response to John wanting to fuck him are writing material that feels 'real' for lack of a better word. But I also don't think it would be that hard of a sell once he got used to the idea. Really look at this gif:

John's interest in Paul's backside is overt. Paul seems surprised and a little overwhelmed in the moment but he also smiles a little in response to John checking him out. It seems to me that there's interest there, albeit tentative. In other words Paul seems okay with being the one who is piped.

It's a lot to surmise from a single gif, I know, but otoh we don't have a lot of these moments where John's feelings are overt and Paul responds to them.

In addition to all this, Paul is a curious hedonist. I think John could prevail on him to at least try it. Then I think Paul would enjoy it greatly. Anal orgasms are somewhere between clitoral and vaginal for me but anal sex is satisfying in a way that PIV isn't, and I think Paul would actively seek it out once he tried it and realized how good it is. Anal sex is extremely intimate and John paid close attention to his lovers, Paul is guaranteed a good time once John takes him to bed. And John would want to make that special for Paul especially once Paul did 'break down' and go 'alright I'll do it' as part of their kinky power game. John did like to make things sweet for Paul.

Paul has this whole thing about wanting to be John's second and not necessarily the leader. He enjoys being lead and dominated by powerful men who are at the top of their industry. Check out this quote from McCartney Legacy Vol. 1 in Chapter 26:

Paul explicitly giving in to a "strong and demanding" male after putting up a perfunctory fight that he had no intention of sticking to? What does this remind us of?

And look, Paul invites this himself very deliberately:

Paul is doing this on purpose. He shows his ass off to entice us, the viewers, into imagining his hole and putting our dicks inside said hole and inside him. Women appreciate a nice ass but lack the equipment to fuck it properly. Men do have the equipment and by 1965 Paul knows his effect on heterosexual men. He's very much dangling the fuckability of his ass as a carrot in front of everyone who wants to look. No other Beatle displays this kind of overt neediness for this specific kind of attention. Paul knows what he is doing.

Paul is a bottom. A needy and bratty bottom who enjoys being put in his place and has a thick kinky streak to be sure, but a bottom nonetheless.

The insistence that Paul is a top has always smacked of contrarianism, to me anyway lmao. It's always packaged with making fun of McLennon fanart where Paul is yassified and John is butch or with complaints that Beatle fandom is making Paul "too feminine" and John "too masculine." There's a lot I could say about it but for now I'll just leave it at this: it's usually paired with bitching that McLennon fans are having too much fun. Many are guilty of it.

John and Paul themselves acknowledged this dynamic between them in oblique ways. John, Paul, and even Yoko always imagined Paul as being a woman as well as acknowledging that Paulina would have been romantically attached to John. Paul acknowledged it with the "if I were a woman maybe I could have...." thing, Yoko said that Paul would be a "great threat" if he was a woman in her audio diary that she recorded in 1968/1969, and John also has a quote floating around about the potential that lay in Paul being a woman though I'll be damned if I can't find the stupid thing. And then there's the insulting "Lennon's Princess" nickname from Apple staff. They perceived the dynamic as well.

John and Paul, consciously or not, actively pursued this dynamic with one another. They enjoyed it and Paul voluntarily stayed in that role even during a time period where he might have been justified in going "okay we've hit the big time, no more of that!"

Just look at Paul's posture here lmao. John is shoving his erection into Paul's shoulder. Yeah he's trying to hide it but Paul is fine with it, shoulders relaxed with no tension in him at all. Paul wasn't just John's princess, John was also Paul's knight, and that comes with certain responsibilities as well as privileges.

John was overtly more stable when he had sex on tap. John and Paul actively lived together for months at a time where few people could get to them. Seems to me that Paul not only did his job but took a lot of pleasure in doing it and John reaped the benefits. Notably John didn't start falling apart until they stopped touring and his sexual access to Paul was bottlenecked. Then 1967 rolls around and John just sorta, moved in with Paul and noticeably got back on an even keel.

Many thunks are to be had my friend! Many thunks indeed and one of them is that Paul is a bottom. Not just that, an enthusiastic one that likes courting powerful and even emotionally unstable males capable of overpowering him.

Much to consider!

[transmascposi]

I feel really isolated because I hardly see any trans masculine positivity posts,,,, The only posts I see,, that are even shared by my own friends,,, are those that are complaining about trans mascs and how we're evil, ugly, and ruining the trans community,,,, I don't know what I did wrong besides simply exist as a trans masculine person,,, I still face misogyny and now I'm facing transphobia from my own friends,,, I even had to block somebody who said 'I have never found trans males to be sexually attractive' and instead of people telling them that's transphobic everyone was agreeing with them,,, I don't know where to turn anymore because everyone hates trans men so badly,,,, plus it's interesting that ppl will say how much they hate trans men but then fetishize our bodies,,,

I feel you. It's so lonely and difficult sometimes. It can feel like the whole world hates you. But I promise it's not like that. There's a lot of people who love us, really.

I'm sorry this is happening to you. You didn't do anything wrong. And even if you did, it wouldn't justify this treatment. You are valid and amazing and you bring so much beauty to the world and to the queer community. I had to cut off a few internet friends who hated on trans men and I don't regret it one bit. If they hate trans masculine people, I suggest cutting these people off. They are not good friends to you.

My advice is to try to spend less time online. The hate is much more concentrated here, and it's much more openly vicious. We certainly do have bad things happening to us in real life, but from my experience at least, the hate online is on another level. There are encounters that we can't really prevent in real life, but you can control the majority of your interactions online. I suggest avoiding the hate as much as you can, even if it means not spending time on your favorite platform. It can seem like I'm stating the obvious and I probably am, but at the same time, when I struggled a lot with online hate on trans mascs, I would keep spending time in trans masc spaces on tumblr that are full of this hate. I think we have the tendency to dwell in the hate, for whatever reason. To reblog it to argue with it, to keep repeating the same points to people who don't care about the truth, to try to counter the lie that trans mascs have it easy by witnessing the hate as a getcha. I'm not saying that you do this necessarily, but I definitely did it.

My second advice is to go out and meet people who understand and support you. A wonderful way to do that is activism. If you can, join your local trans activist group! You don't have to have inspiring speeches on big podiums and argue with people. You can help with small practical tasks — those people are very much needed and appreciated! Or you can find your local queer events and go there. It can be intimidating at first, especially if you go alone, but there's always someone a little bit lost at these events. People get it. Again, it definitely can be very difficult, but try to talk to some trans people there. Or anyone, really. You will find out that there's a lot of people who support and get us. And people who might not fully understand yet, but they want to try and they want to help. Even these imperfect encounters will warm your heart enough to forget a little about all the hate, even just for a moment. And being in activist circles and hearing people say your exact thoughts out loud — oh man it's SO satisfying. These people don't even have to be your friends. I'm trying to be an activist and there are people who I have fun with and who give me a sense of community — yet I don't meet them outside of activism stuff because I know we aren't a good match to be friends. And yet, their existence in my life brings me a lot of warmth. Building community is the key, really.

I wish you the best of luck and strength and I hope you will feel better soon.

[sourholland]

WELCOME TO THE STYLE MASTERLIST

based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → hope u guys like this :)

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → strong language, alcohol

word count → 3.3k

remember to reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 6

“It’s one picture, don’t drive yourself crazy over it,” Joe’s voice came through your phone. “I get why you’re freaking out, but I think we both agree that it could be a lot worse.”

“That’s the problem. This was our first time out together, who’s to say there aren’t more pictures like this but worse? We haven’t exactly been careful about seeing each other, Joe.”

There was a brief silence, the sound of his car air conditioner creating a white noise in the background of your phone call. He texted you back almost instantaneously after you sent him the screenshot from Twitter. He said he would have to tell his coaches he was having an important family matter so that they would allow him to walk out to take the call in the middle of analyzing game film. It took him all but five minutes to get outside and phone you.

“I know,” he sighed, inhaling a quick breath before he spoke again. “We’ll be better about stuff, you know I’ll make sure I’m not so–”

“It’s more than that and you know it. This doesn’t just end with one shitty photo on Twitter, it only gets worse from here. It makes no difference if we’re trying harder to sneak around because at some point one of us is going to fuck up, that’s if we already haven’t and don’t know, and then would all of this have been worth it?” You snapped at him, thankful he could not see the tears threatening to spill over and dampen your cheeks. “The fucking around and being casual hookup buddies. Will it have been worth it? Maybe for you, but that’s because you’re Joe Burrow and we both know we’re not even in remotely similar spots in this situation.”

“What are fucking talking about? That’s all bullshit, you know that’s bullshit,” his voice raised slightly, a twinge of hurt evident. “Look, Y/N–I understand that we aren’t exactly in the same position, but that doesn’t make it fair for you to act like none of this matters to me or whatever the fuck you’re going on about as far as all of this being worth it. What’s going on between us has never had anything to do with me, or my name, or what position I hold on the team.”

“Do you hear yourself right now? Of course it has something to do with who you are, it always had something to do with who you are and you can’t seriously tell me you don’t know that. You’re in the NFL and a star quarterback for fucks sake. You went to the Super Bowl last year! You can’t seriously sit here and tell me we’re risking the same things?”

The line was quiet, save for the sound of both of you breathing. Perhaps you were being petty, but Joe was being inconsiderate of what a loss of job would mean for you. He sounded hurt by the fact that the two of you hooking up was not a good enough reason to lose out on the extra money. The public humiliation you would receive was a whole different factor to be conquered in itself. While you might not know what this was like for him, he sure as hell wouldn’t ever know what it is like for you. 

Social status and money were such fickle things, seemingly unimportant in some scenarios until suddenly they became the center of the universe again. Joe would never again live a fully mundane life, he couldn’t see through the eyes of a college student who already had trouble making ends meet. It felt so unfair to know how this story would end, however if you could potentially stop it from being made worse, you might be thankful in the long run. 

“You’re right, that was a stupid thing for me to say. But Y/N, I’m just as much in this as you. It’s not easy for me either.”

“It shouldn’t have to be hard,” you sighed, face hot with emotion as you stared downward at your feet. “I just feel like we might be better off leaving this where it is, you know? Before things get messy. Which they will, you know they will.”

Joe didn’t speak at first, his silence left a sharp ache to burrow itself deep within your ribcage. His voice came out firm but hoarse, “If that’s what you want.”

As your breath grew slightly ragged, you realized that you hadn’t been preparing for his nonchalant response. Selfishly, you let a hand slide to your chest and then throat as you swallowed and attempted to formulate a response to his words. The line was silent, save for the sound of Joe’s breathing. 

“Is that what you want?” You asked him.

“It seems like that’s what you want, seeing as you were the one who brought it up. And if this is just sex then why should it matter?” said Joe, his tone defensive and his voice breathier than usual. “This is just sex to you, right?”

No, you wanted to shout at him. This is so much more than sex and you know that, but the second you said it aloud it could not be taken back and then things truly became complicated. Joe wished to provoke you, the tone of his voice said as much. This annoyed you, his desire to make this even more difficult for you. 

“What do you want me to say to that?” 

“It’s a simple question,” Joe hurled, clearly irritated.

“No, it’s not. You know that,” you sniffled. “How I feel about you doesn’t matter when we’re in this situation, anyway.”

“Bullshit, it’s not a simple question because you’re making it complicated. How you feel doesn’t matter because you say it doesn’t matter,” Joe answered furiously. “Look, I have to get back inside, but I just want to say that you saying all of this right now is really fucking selfish. Especially after all of the mixed signals you send… I never know what you actually want from me. One second you’re pissed off at the idea of me even seeing another girl and now you’re breaking stuff off with me over the phone.”

You flinched at his assessment, “I’m just trying to do the right thing for both of us.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

The line went dead and you knew he had hung up, frustrated with you and the entire situation. You let your hands run over your face, feeling a deep pain in your chest as you buried your face into the blankets on your couch that still held his distant scent. He surely hated now, unable to comprehend how deep your feelings for him went. Much deeper than his for you, you were sure of. When you told him that your relationship would grow messy, you hadn’t been lying. However, a piece of you was not solely referring to the conflict within your work. 

You debated calling him back, but knew that he would have already made it back into the facility. He sounded so upset with you, more so than he had ever been before. Joe was usually quite relaxed and level-headed, though now he was most definitely frustrated by the argument itself. 

Joe made no other attempts to contact you for the remainder of the day. That night, you let your phone sit idly by as you made dinner and still nothing. Maybe the two of you had broken up, that was what you had insisted anyways. He made you act like a complete idiot sometimes, thoughts skewed and rash as if you were once again sixteen. Nothing about Joe was in disarray, he always seemed to know exactly what he wanted to say and do. It never came out awkward or clunky, despite how he described his usual anxiety during interviews.

Attempting to sleep was difficult, your mind racing a mile a minute. Thoughts of Joe persisted, leaving you ridden with guilt and sadness about the supposed no contact. You knew not to text, though. Not only would it have been unfair to you, but Joe as well. There was also the fact that it would never work between the two of you, the carousel of disappointment and pain was unavoidable. 

⋆------------⋆

The Bengals lost their next preseason game against the Giants, the game was close but ended the same as the Cardinals had. The only difference in this game was Joe’s attendance, he wore a headset on the sidelines with his coaches as the team played. Still out on injury, he was helping to give instruction to his teammates most of the game. 

You had briefly locked eyes with Joe before the game began, everyone scrambling about to get into positions. His expression was blank, as if he had no idea who you were and there was never anything there. Your eyes raked over him, the way that the shirt he wore hugged his biceps and back. Joe spared the cheerleaders more glances than usual this game, watching more than he ever had time to while playing. You caught his lingering gaze once or twice, mind racing.

The final preseason game against the Rams played out the exact same, save for the fact that the Bengals won. It had been two weeks between the game and the morning of yours and Joe’s heated argument. The post on Twitter had somewhat died off at twenty thousand likes and his fans eventually found something new to speculate about. 

Sydney and Lena were absolutely furious when you divulged all information regarding the fight you had caused, earning a few much deserved playful swots to the arm. They attempted to coerce you into calling him and smoothing things over, insisting that you shouldn’t just end things on such an awful note. Once you explained more of the predicament and how you felt no desire to be ripped apart on the internet or by your coaches, both girls simply sighed and nodded at your decision. They understood how difficult it was for you, especially after silent tears had begun to fall during the long winded explanation of how seriously NFL executives and management took player-cheerleader fraternization and how it would unfortunately not just be swept under the rug when you two inevitably got caught.

The wallowing in self-pity lasted for another week before the girls had finally called for the bedrotting to end, “Babe, don’t cry. Come on, wipe those tears. We’re going out tonight,” said Sydney, sitting criss cross on your bedroom floor. “It’s Friday night, you’re hot as fuck and you’re an NFL cheerleader. I love you so I’m going to be honest with you right now, I get that you fumbled Joe Burrow, but we both know that he was just a guy at the end of the day. So again, you are hot as fuck and we’re going out. What do I always say?”

“I’m not feeling it tonight, Syd,” your reply was muffled as you spoke into the pillow you lay face down into. “Go without me.”

“Bitch, stop. You’re going out, we’re getting fucked up. Lena’s already on her way over here and you know she’s not leaving without you so let’s go. You’ll feel better, by the time we get to the club you’re going to be like ‘Who’s Joe Burrow anyways?’”

“Somehow I highly doubt that,” you sighed, turning to look up at the ceiling. “You don’t want me to come, I’m miserable and sad and I’m only going to spoil everyone’s fun.”

“I don’t care, Y/N. Spoil my fun, ruin my night, I’d say throw up in my clutch but you already managed that last time we went out. I just want to see you out of this bed for something other than practice, work, or class. You’re like a ghost and I’m not going to watch you throw away your senior year because of some erotic work hookup with a guy who I’m sure couldn’t even hold a candle to you,” Sydney spieled, perched on the edge of your bed. “The only way to get over a man is to get under a new one!”

Eventually Sydney did manage to get you up, it only took ripping all of the blankets off of you and hiding your phone. Once Lena came in and began tidying up the somewhat mess you’d been allowing to collect, you realized getting out was probably the best course of action. Although you had no plans of getting under any new guy, Sydney appreciated your partially willing participation once she began to do your hair and makeup. 

Lena dumped a bag of going out tops onto your bed, sifting through them and throwing each top into a certain pile. Some of them were from freshman year, leaving both you and Sydney to cringe and shout at her to make sure it went into the rapidly growing mass of ‘absolutely not’ tops. Eventually you settled for a fitted lilac top, adorned with sheer lace everywhere but the cups. Sydney wore a timeless black bodysuit that she had swiped from your closet during study abroad and Lena opted for blue slip dress and promised Sydney she would take care of her leather jacket if she let her borrow it.

The three of you Ubered to the club, knowing that you planned to drink. As soon as you slid into the backseat of the SUV, Sydney pulled her purse into her lap and was suddenly handing out shooters. There was one Malibu, a Fireball, and a Pink Whitney.

“Fuck that, I can’t even smell that shit without wanting to throw up,” you shook your head, pretending to gag in a dramatic motion. “You’re better off throwing the Pink Shitney out the window.”

“Throw up?” The driver’s head whipped towards the backseat suddenly. “No, no! If you throw up, I charge extra.”

“Nobody is going to throw up, sir,” Lena reassured him and looked back at both you and Sydney with a laugh. “Well, I don’t want it either. Rock, paper, scissors?”

Sydney and Lena went first, Lena won and chose the Malibu. You faced Sydney now, playing rock as she threw out scissors and proceeded to hunch over in fake despair as you snatched the shot of Fireball. Not that the taste was much better, but after a few horrible experiences with Pink Whitney during freshman year, you could no longer stomach it without revisiting the memories of endless mornings spent hugging the toilet bowl of your dorm floor after drinking with your girls and relishing in the alcohol that tastes identical to Minute Maid once you grew drunk enough.

The drive to the club was about fifteen minutes from your apartment, each of you taking a couple of photos together and dissecting Lena’s texts with her ex from the night before.Sydney was bantering with the driver once you finally pulled up beside the curb out front of the club, a considerably long queue already forming at the front door. 

“You look so hot,” Lena told you, practically skipping to join the line and get inside. “So do you, Syd.”

The bouncer worked quickly, only sending a few people away as he looked over IDs and gestured clusters inside of the club. Thankfully, your fake ID days had passed and you were finally able to toss it. Most of the drinking you had done over the course of your time at school was with small groups of girlfriends and occasionally nights spent at sleazy bars that weren’t strict about obviously fake IDs. Frats had never been your scene, although you managed to go a few times during your freshman year for the experience.

Once the three of you made it inside, Sydney immediately went to the bar after claiming the first round of drinks were on her. There were colorful lights illuminating the crowded atmosphere of those dancing and drinking with friends. The club mix that was playing boomed, your ears adjusting to the insanely loud music as Sydney approached with drinks and held up her phone to snap a photo of you and Lena.

“Drink up!” Sydney called out to both of you, taking a long sip and looking around the club in search of tonight’s target. 

It didn’t take long for Lena to pull both of you to dance, integrating yourselves with a group of sweaty, twenty-something girls who were the level of drunk you hoped to be soon enough. The floor vibrated, moisture collecting at your temples and hairline as you rocked against Sydney in a slightly buzzed bliss. One of the girls you had just met had her arms thrown around your neck, all of you singing at different pitches. 

A rotation of going to grab more drinks and then rejoining your group on the floor had begun, both you and Lena alternating who bought the next round of shots after Sydney found a cute guy at the bar to flirt with. The film of sweat clinging to your skin became unnoticeable after you grew drunk enough to stop caring, your face hot from drinking and dancing. 

“Lena!” You called over the music, drink in-hand. “I have to pee, I’ll be right back!”

“What?” She leaned in. “Bathroom? I’ll come with you!”

“No, stay! I’ll be good,” you promised, knowing she had already made two trips with you.

“You sure?”

“Yes!” You shouted over your shoulder, already making your way to the slightly grungy, low-lit bathroom.

There was a singular open stall, stray bits of toilet paper and a fake eyelash adorning the floor as you drunkenly made your way around the girls reapplying makeup in the mirror. Thoughts of the game washed over you, in turn bringing on thoughts of Joe. Something about going to the bathroom and finally having a few moments of peace allowed you to assess how intoxicated you truly were, which was considerable. The thought of talking to him outweighed the small voice of reason in the back of your mind, ultimately deciding that it would be a problem for your sober self.

As you left the bathroom, rather than going back out to dance with Lena, you leaned against the wall of the hallway and braced yourself in order to stay upright. You pulled your phone from your clutch, sighing and opening his contact. It was late, he might be asleep, you thought. Without thinking much, you dazedly pressed the call button and closed your eyes as the phone rang and you awaited his potential answer.

“Y/N,” his voice came through clear, not even taking two rings to pick up your call.

“Hi, Joe,” you concentrated very hard on your tone and slightly slurred speech, doing your best to sound sober.”M’sorry it’s so late, I just–I was thinking about you, which I know that I shouldn’t because we’re broken up but I was. I wanted to talk to you, I know you probably hate me and everything, or I hate you or whatever. I shouldn’t have called you, I’m sorry.”

“Are you drunk?” His voice comes out level, emotionless even.

The silence between the two of you is palpable, “No,” you hiccup.

He says nothing for a few seconds, “Are you at the club?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“I can hear music and people talking, it sounds like you’re in a club.”

This was wrong, you should not be calling Joe. Why couldn’t you shake him? After all of this, you only continued to want more. All you have done is hurt him and yourself through this situation, unable to make up your mind. Everything you have worked so hard for should be worth more than Joe Burrow, so why didn’t it feel like that?

“Yeah,” you replied, the slurring evident in your voice. “You got me.”

“This isn’t fair, YN… You calling me fucked up and out with who the hell knows isn’t right, not after you call me and tell me you would rather, ‘leave things where they are.’ I like you! I feel like I have made that incredibly obvious, and yet here we are once again.” He rattled off, voice slightly raised. “Look, I’m sorry to be an asshole but clearly you either can’t see or don’t care about how this has affected me or my life. And I get it, you’re still in college and we’re just in completely different stages of life as far as your age–”

“My age?” You finally interrupted his rambling, ready to counter him with what you would most likely regret saying tomorrow. “How come you’re suddenly so fucking mature and I’m just a kid?”

“Well for starters, you are the one who blindsided me a few weeks ago over the phone. You are the one who just called me up at one in the morning, for what? To tell me again that you don’t want to be with me? Or is this some sick joke where you apologize and then can’t remember when you wake up?” He snapped at you. “So yeah, Y/N… I would go as far as to say you’re the immature one in this situation.”

It was as if the wind had been knocked out of you, internalizing Joe’s words as you shifted weight from one foot to the other. Everything was fuzzy, your thoughts askew and irrational as you tried to compile the right words to respond with. He had never taken that tone with you before, nor had he ever sounded so hurt. Maybe he was right.

“I’m sorry, Joe,” was all you could muster without giving away how inebriated you truly are, figuring that would only make things worse. “I regret everything, all of it. We shouldn’t have started anything in the first place, but everytime you come near me it’s just so hard not to want you–” You trailed off, regret was most definitely not the right word, you mean to say that you regret how things have played out.

“Y/N, stop. You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re saying,” he sighed. “Are you safe? Should I get you an Uber or do you have a way home?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” you say quietly.

“Then I’m gonna get off of here, call me once you’ve sobered up.”

His words stung, your heart cracking at the justifiable dismissal. He was most definitely not in the wrong here, but it didn’t make it any less hard. His usual flirtation and humor was long gone, replaced by obvious disdain due to the way you had ended things. 

“Bye, Joe.”

“Get home safe, Y/N.”

taglist - @humannoodlesoup @nikkisimps @teasandcrumpets @chmpgnnlace @hummusxx @rivivie @madsblogsstuff @nngkay @raeofsunshine629 @siutforjjmaybank @alternativemadchen @ryiamarie @ohreggieboy @coldheartedmar @obsessed-fan-alert @buckystwilight @dessxoxsworld @manic-pixie-bitch2 @hallecarey1 @heyitskay-21 @stylesyourmine @toterry @countryday @adventuremood @blu3jeanbaby @sriusun @mikeyspinkcup @kittyhorror777 @riverdalexvixens @hornyforherbert @tomriddlesenchantress @nhlbabes @unsaidjaelinrose @joselyn001 @littlelou22 @harryweeniee

[whatwouldsylwrite]

At least I got you in my head (5)

(4)

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: sexual themes (not with Abby), Vi from Arcane is here to make you feel better. You and Abby make decisions that rub the wrong way. Mention of reader having a complicated skin care routine that Abby doesn't understand. Also, the girl in the end is Kara Danvers from supergirl; she is never described/mentioned.

Taglist: @abbyily @lillysbigwilly @gravygranules @blairfox04 @frogtits1 @ccinnamongrl @ninazenuk @urmomsgirlfriend1 @sunkissedbibi @couchgarbage @nil-eena @inlovewithelliewilliams @st4rluvrr @mai5mai @machetegirl109 @azelmawrites (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Yoon Jiwoo was a little scary, but you liked how reserved she was: she didn't ask you for anything, didn't try to get to know you deeply, just polite small talk and a few jokes. Instead of coffee she asked you to come and help her with dinner, and you agreed, fully understanding the implications. 

The implication number one: your chin covered in her slick while she mewled above you and tugged on your hair. 

The implication number two: you sprawled out on her bed, shaking after the second orgasm. 

She was teasing you a lot, which wasn't something you necessarily liked in bed, but it suited her so you rolled with it (not like you had a choice, pinned under her). 

Jiwoo kissed you goodbye and you went home at 1 am on Sunday, feeling a little better.

Like your world wasn't spinning around Abby, like you could start moving on and be happy while living with the best roommate you could wish for. There were other girls, available girls, and you didn't have to suffer. Were you available though? Well, not yet. But eventually your feelings would go away, you were sure of it. 

When you came home you expected Abby to be asleep already - you told her you'd be late - but she was in the living room, playing Doom, frowning in concentration as she eviscerated her enemies. She looked good like this, in her grey sweats and muscle tee, her braid resting on her shoulder. Fuck, why were you like that? You just fucked someone, weren't you supposed to fantasise about Jiwoo right now and not drool over your roommate? Jiwoo had great arms too, and she was hot too, and she was the one to fuck you.

God you really were too deep in it if Abby in muscle tee was more exciting than literal orgasms.

You took a breath to calm yourself down and knocked on the door frame, careful not to scare Abby with your presence. She looked up and paused the game, taking her headphones off. She looked a little tired and you knew she wasn't supposed to be up this late. 

"Hey. Why are you not in bed yet?" You sat next to her on the couch, your knee touching her thigh. 

"Was waiting for you." Abby murmured and rubbed her neck. "I wanted to make sure you'd come home safe."

Fuck you and how caring you are, you thought desperately. Jiwoo also told you to text her when you'd be home, why weren't you thinking of this? Why weren't you texting her right now? 

"Well, I am." You smiled a little. "You should go to sleep, Abby. You'll be grumpy in the morning."

"Yeah. Are you hungry? I made pasta."

"You can't do this to me, seriously." You said dramatically and let Abby guide you to the kitchen.

She heated up the food for you and made herself tea after you gave her shit for wanting to drink coffee at 1am. 

"How was it?" Abby asked politely and you tensed. 

"Great." 

"Just great?" Abby laughed kindly. 

"Yeah, well. Stress relief is stress relief." You chuckled, not really understanding why Abby was curious about your sex life. 

It hurt a little, that while you hooked up with Jiwoo to get Abby out of your system, she was now trying to make small talk about it. 

Abby must've noticed your reluctance, because her teasing grin fell.

"Sorry, I'm so used to Ellie waxing poetry about her hookups so for some reason I expected you to do that too." Abby smiled sheepishly. 

"Oh, don't worry. I just don't kiss and tell, you know. Unless you want a crush course in lesbian sex." You winked, curious if you'd make her shy, and yeah, Abby's cheeks were just slightly pink.

"I mean, Ellie talks so much about girls I feel like I could give you a crush course."

You laughed: bantering with Abby was easy and familiar and you felt a bit better, and not in love at all. Just two gals being pals. 

You were lying in your bed and you couldn't fall asleep as you were going back to this weekend. You felt like the whole hookup with Jiwoo was just some kind of revenge, a knee jerk reaction to Abby breaking your little air castles where you two were in love and happy together. You told Cait you wouldn't use other people to get over Abby, but even though the thing with Jiwoo was mutually beneficial, it didn't make you feel any better. Especially since it only gave you relief that lasted until you came home. 

It was a bad idea to begin with and now you regretted it a little. The sex was great, and you had a lot of fun, but the motivation behind it made you question your choice. You had to deal with your hurt before you tried to weave other people into it. 

It was Monday and you decided it was time for plan B: get distracted by getting another student. Work was good, work meant mind exercises and money. Usually you'd get recommended by your previous students, but sometimes your professors would ask you to help someone out, and today was the day when you got lucky. 

Your professor caught you in the corridor while you were walking to your next class and you got scared at first - did you miss an assignment and were losing your points?

"I gave your number to one of my students, she is smart but she had to miss a lot of classes. She needs to pass the test at the end of November, can you help her?"

"Yeah, of course." You nodded politely.

"Thanks." Your professor patted you on the shoulder and hurried to her next class. God, she was always running like a headless chicken and you adored that chaotic energy in her. She was a very talented teacher, she asked for a lot, but she always gave second chances, so if this girl got her to let her improve her grade, then you'd do your best to help her. 

Also, you thought as you watched the hottest fucking person walk through the doors of the library on Wednesday afternoon, you'd have to do your best and keep it in your pants. 

She was built very similar to Abby, the same defined arms and wide shoulders, and she had tattoos. Her nose was pierced and even the bright pink hair looked organic. 

Even the way she walked was hot - Abby was always commanding, and your new student (she was bee lining to your table) walked confidently, like she didn't fucking care and like she knew she was hot. 

Oh this one wasn't straight. No straight girl had the same energy as her. No, this kind of confidence came from wanting to attract a different kind of attention, the attention straight girls didn't seek and didn't need. 

You sat more straight in your seat as the girl came closer, and for some reason you expected her to be cocky, but she smiled at you and you melted. 

"Hi. You are (y/n)?" You nodded and the girl sat next to you. "I'm Vi."

"Nice to meet you." You said, trying to play it cool. Not only she was hot as fuck, she also seemed sweet? "Prof said you need to pass the test?"

"Yeah. I need at least B on this, and I don't understand a thing." Vi chuckled. "I read at home, but it all sounds fucking insane."

You laughed.

"Which part? I bet it's Kant."

"More like cunt if you ask me." Vi mumbled and you laughed again. 

"Okay. Let's start from the beginning and then Kant will make more sense later on. Are you going to have only western philosophy on your test or do we need to cover everything?"

"I think it's only western." 

You put your professional face on and tried to ignore how hot Vi was as best as you could, but judging by her little knowing smirk she was fully aware of her affect on you - though you didn't really mind. She was hot and sweet and made you feel something else except fucking sadness and desperation. 

Maybe you could get both distractions this time, you thought as Vi smiled at you and looked a little lower than what would be considered friendly. 

This week Abby spent way too invested in talking to Owen. They texted regularly and Abby found herself checking her phone every five minutes. He excited her: Abby liked his attention and his jokes, and it didn't happen often to her. Boys were more annoying than enjoyable, so when she'd meet a guy who was actually cool she tried not to pass the opportunity. 

And now when she was spending so much time on Owen she didn't get her weird panics around you anymore. Abby still enjoyed cuddling with you and talking to you, but now she felt safe to do that, when she had an outlet to deal with her loneliness. She could cuddle you and then go to Owen to get her healthy fix of sex and intimacy. 

Not that Abby planned to, but knowing she had an escape made her feel more confident, as if she separated her affectionate side from her lonely horny side. 

from: (y/n)

r u home?

can you meet me downstairs?

I need help

Abby locked her phone and went to the hallway to put her doc martens and a coat - the third week of October wasn't really warm. She quickly made her way downstairs, a little worried about what you needed help with. 

You were standing in front of the stairs with two big plastic bags and Abby just stared at you.

"You okay?" She asked with doubt. Why did you buy two full bags of groceries? Why did you even go without her when it was her job to do all the heavy lifting in the house? "You should've called me."

"I didn't plan to go grocery shopping, I just wanted to buy the cookies, but I spiralled." You shrugged. "Can you help me carry them?"

Abby took all the bags, not letting you touch them at all even when you protested ("equal labour, come on" "you're hunched in your chair 24/7 you have the back of a grandma, chill"). You made light small talk while you went upstairs, Abby told you about her classes and how annoyed she was with some of them: she liked to bitch about stuff with you because you bitched right back without trying to cheer her up. You just understood Abby's need to vent.

Abby took her shoes off and went to the kitchen so she could start unloading the bags. You were still shuffling in the hallway when she opened the bag and stared into the inside.

"What the fuck?" Abby mumbled as she looked over the whole bag filled with her favourite protein bars. 

By that point you came to the kitchen and had the audacity to look like you didn't understand why Abby was shocked.

"Oh, yeah. They were on sale." 

Abby stared at you. 

"So you bought the whole aisle?"

"You burn through them like they're made of oxygen, come on." You said, embarrassed, and Abby laughed. 

"You're insane." Abby chuckled and came closer, holding your face in her warm hands so she could pepper your face with small kisses.

"Thanks." Kiss. "You're ridiculous." Kiss. "I l-" 

Abby's words got stuck in her throat: she couldn't finish this sentence. She didn't know why, but it felt like she meant something way different from what it was supposed to mean between friends. It didn't seem like you've noticed, so Abby kissed your forehead and moved away, making herself pay attention to your pleased face instead of wallowing in her anxiety. 

"Did you really get the whole aisle?"

"I took every pack they had, yes. It was on sale, pretty good deal if you ask me." 

"Whatever you say mathematician." Abby chuckled and helped you put other groceries in their place. 

She couldn't stop herself from smiling: you cared. You remembered small things about her the same way she remembered small things about you (she made sure to buy you your favourite cookies every time she was shopping), and it was so warming. She felt her heart grow with l- 

Why couldn't she use this word for you? God, she thought she was over her stupid panic. It was okay to love her friends. It was okay. 

Maybe she should hook up with Owen again. 

Vi asked you to come to her place for your fourth lesson - she had training before and she would have been late for the lesson if she had to go to the library from there. You didn't mind so you put your books into your bag and went over to her place. 

Vi told you she lived with her younger sister, and you saw the pictures around the apartment: it seemed like bright hair was a theme here. 

Vi's room was a little bigger than yours, and was surprisingly aesthetic with decor. There were a lot of drawings ("my sister drew them") and her table was kinda cluttered, but she quickly freed some space so you could put your books somewhere. 

Being in Vi's room made you tingle. It was obvious to both of you how attractive you found each other, and you couldn't shake the thought she invited you for a different reason with the amount of tension between the two of you.

You were sitting pretty close, her strong jean-clad thigh pressed against yours, but you tried to not pay attention to it and focus on the lesson. So far Vi's been an excellent student, not shy to ask you the same question as many times as she needed, getting to the bottom of it no matter what. Sometimes you had to change your usual explanation so Vi would understand, and putting your brains to work made you feel good.

"Okay, okay, I've got it. Fucking mental gymnastics." Vi sighed as she wrote her answer on a test sample. "Check."

You read her answer and smiled: it was perfect. 

"Good job." Vi’s eyes lit up.

"I want a reward." Vi said and you chuckled before picking up your pen and writing a good job with a star on her paper. 

"Good enough?" Vi chuckled at this and moved closer to you, putting her elbow on the table to support herself. "Something else?" You were teasing her, you knew, but you were so curious how it’d play out.

"Yeah, I have a better idea." She murmured as she moved her face closer to yours, waiting for you to give her green light. You smiled and moved closer, enjoying her wide eyes and a pleased smirk. 

Vi kissed you and you lost your breath for a moment, shocked by how gentle and tentative she was. She was sweet, god she was sweet. If it wasn't for one stupid straight blonde in your life you could have fallen in love with Vi just from the way she kissed. 

You moved away, feeling guilty: you didn't really know what Vi wanted from you, and she didn't deserve to be fucked over because you were an idiot who was in love with their roommate.

"Hey-hey. Wait a second."

"Did I misread the situation?" Vi asked, worried, searching your face for an answer. 

"No. But I'd like to know what you want from this, so we could be on the same page."

"I just think you're hot."

"Nothing serious?"

"No?" Vi looked like she was scared she'd hurt your feelings with her words, but you only sighed in relief.

"Good. Because I think you're hot too." Vi smirked at this and kissed you again, holding your neck with her palm as she stroked your jaw with her thumb. "Is this why you asked me to come here today?"

"No." Vi laughed as she squeezed your hips and moved you to her lap, pressing you closer. God she was strong. "But now I think past me was a genius."

You chuckled and kissed her again, burying your fingers in her soft hair as she pushed her hands under your shirt. Vi sighed into your mouth and you smiled while your hips started to live their own life, grinding against Vi. You were stupidly turned on by how strong and sweet she was, so careful with how she touched you, as if you were not a one night stand but the love of her life. 

"You're gentle." You commented when Vi carefully placed you on the bed.

"I get that a lot." Vi grinned and you rolled your eyes playfully. "Tell me what you want." 

You smiled at that and tugged her shirt off, staring hungrily at her abs and tattoos. She looked like she could destroy you and put you back together and your stomach burned while your eyes went dark with desire. 

"Fuck me.”

---

“You sure you don’t want to come?” You asked and Abby snapped out of watching you get ready in front of the mirror. Abby came to chill out in your room as you went through your wardrobe to find something that’d work for a Halloween party. 

“I’m not feeling it.” What Abby actually meant: Owen was getting a little too aggressive with his attempts to ask her out and she didn’t want to run into him.

“Well, you know how they say, you just need to come and the mood will come too.”

“No, really, I just want to stay home today. But you have fun, you’ve been working the whole week, you need it.”

You’ve been coming home late the past few days, having more lessons than usual, and Abby felt bad for you. At least you seemed to be in a good mood most of the time, more relaxed and happy than the previous week, and Abby was glad the amount of work wasn’t taking a toll on you.

“Thanks, Abby.” You smiled in the mirror and Abby smiled back. She couldn’t look away from you, a little fascinated by your little rituals with all the skin care products you were using. Sometimes she asked you questions about especially weird things she saw in your hands, but otherwise she stayed quiet and just watched you. 

Abby never really was a girly girl, with no desire to learn how to apply makeup or to wear skirts, and when she was a teenager a lot of people liked to tell her if she didn’t get more feminine she’d never find a boy, because boys liked everything she didn’t. And listen, she tried. She even learned how to use eye liner, but when she looked at herself in the mirror she felt like a clown, and she decided the potential boy in her life wasn’t worth trying to become someone she wasn’t. But even if Abby herself didn’t care about doing girly things, she liked watching other girls do their magic: how Ellie painted her nails black, how Nora did her hair, how you applied god knows how many creams/essences on your face. It was calming to her. 

“So, what are you going for?” Abby nodded at the bunch of clothes on your bed.

“The laziest vampire on earth.” You sighed. “You know, all black, some sunglasses to look like an asshole. We still have cranberry juice, right? I’ll pretend it’s blood.”

“Wow, that’s bad.” Abby laughed.

“Well I can’t come in my usual clothes, that would be even worse. I’ll try to look like the lack of effort was a choice and you know what? I’ll look hot doing it.”

“You definitely will.” Not that Abby understood anything in women’s hotness, but hey. She met girls who made her head turn, so.. Listen, she didn’t know where she was going with this thought. All girls were pretty, okay. It was the universal truth, what was the point of thinking she didn’t know when women were hot, she wasn’t a blind idiot. 

Abby walked you out of the door with a promise you’d call her if anything happens and a kiss on the forehead. 

from: Owen

Are you out tonight?

Fuck, Abby thought. Fuck-fuck-fuck. If she’d say she was home he’d definitely ask to come over, and lying was pointless. Abby stared at her phone once more. But what if she’d want to hook up with him later? Fuck. This shit shouldn’t have been so complicated. 

Well. She could lie in a different way.

to: Owen

sorry, I’ve got a fever so I stayed home

That was so stupid and hardly believable, but Abby didn’t want to deal with Owen right now. Or ever. 

Thankfully he left her on read and Abby sighed in relief before going to the living room to finish the next level in Doom. It took her a few hours after she fell down to death a bunch of times, missing the right moment to jump from one stupid pillar to another. And the boss at the end of the level was pretty hard, so when she finally beat him it was close to 2:30 am. 

Abby tidied the living room and then took a shower, her eyes hurt a little after staring at the screen for so long. She came back to her room and cautiously checked her notifications in fear Owen’d drunk-text her, but instead there was a text from you.

from: (y/n)

Im w a girl 

Abby stilled as she read your text, her heart squeezing in pain that she didn’t understand. Was she jealous? But she just turned Owen down, so it couldn't be right. Abby shook her head as if it’d shake the thoughts out of her head and quickly got ready for bed - she hoped to fall asleep before you’d come home with a girl.

It seemed like the universe hated her that night, because when she felt she was finally falling asleep, relieved she wouldn’t hear you coming home, the front door clicked open. 

Abby shut her eyes and tried not to listen to any sounds: to be fair, she didn’t hear anything until your bedroom’s door was shut. She didn’t want to think about what was happening in your bedroom, but then she heard it. 

You were clearly trying to be quiet, but one of your whimpers was too loud. Abby’s ears rang and her heart started beating faster from anxiety. Despite herself her head got filled with pictures of some random girl touching you. Abby wanted to barf, wanted this girl out of your bedroom, wanted to fucking rip her arms off for making you sound like that. 

Abby took a deep breath and sat on the bed, her ears tuned to your bedroom - it seemed like you noticed your mistake and got quieter, but Abby didn’t need you to make any more sounds to feel absolutely sick, her brain conveniently showing her how you were being fucked right now.

Abby huffed in disgust and stilled suddenly, noticing her emotions. She was disgusted? Fucking hell she was. 

You were having sex next door and Abby was so disgusted and angry she wanted to break something. She felt guilty, because you didn't deserve this, you didn't do anything bad, but Abby couldn't shake her feelings and her unbearable fantasies off.

Abby took another deep breath and grabbed her headphones, determined to force herself into sleep, even if she couldn't breathe properly from her awful feelings.

And Abby would have to be nice in the morning, wouldn't she?