#do not fucking start any arguments on this post i am not here to argue my opinion

[tenwhiteandalusians]

so no one was going to tell me if i got literally one episode further tenax drops that he’s the one who saved scorpus from his mom’s pimp AND that he’s intimately familiar with scorpus’ dick when he was younger. guys. guys.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 8: The One About the Adjacent of Convenience

Are you guys ready to return to our regularly scheduled programme?

Actually, I must applaud the majority of the people who read my blog for how well they handled Sunday. It seemed many of you got a good laugh out of it and were then gifted Monday morning with an updated post from that dear restauranteur tossing out Lady Whistledown’s name for – honestly, I don’t know why he threw it out there. Do you?

Moving on…

Yesterday, I discussed Antonia. Today, I am going to venture over to the other side of the fandom and discuss – you guessed it – Jake Dunn.

And, no, I’m not summoning the Balrog today. In fact, I don’t equate Jake to a creature from the depths of Moria because, generally speaking, he doesn’t bother me.

Do I find him a tad annoying? Of course I do. But, only because the perception of his relationship with Nicola has been warped into something ass backwards (no pun intended) to anyone with two bits of common sense, and because he’s always inconveniently there.

At the right time.

For those pap pictures.

However, the rational side of my brain reminds me that if I don’t see anything romantic in Nicola’s relationships with, say, JVN, Mark, Golda, Jack, or either of the Dylans, I shouldn’t be bothered by her relationship with Jake. Would we be paying any attention to Jake if he wasn’t being shoved down our throats by anti-Lukolas? No, probably not.

But, here we are.

I will preface this entry with my belief that Jake did not ask to be linked romantically to Nicola. That was Deux Moi's doing. Keep that in mind as you read through this. Deux Moi created that bullshit plotline and then rabid dogs ran with it.

By the way, those are the people you should be worried about. The ones pushing their “Jakola” narratives with blind aggression. I’m talking about those “in your face” assholes whose real motive behind shipping Nicola with anyone-but-Luke is solely based on their rapid-fire hatred towards Luke. These people are not Jakolas; these people are the Jakholes.

*Oh, now is the time to slip this in… My disclaimer (or, my “ask”) for today is, let’s not pick on the Sincerely Ignorant Jakola shippers. They are just as volatile as the Sincerely Ignorant Lukola shippers. They spiral fast and hard, too. Seriously, don’t fuck with these people, please. I believe most of them to be nice people.

Thank you, next.

I know that some of you will argue that Jake is a manipulative little shit and intentionally tried to make connections between Nicola and himself by way of pictures in her personal spaces and a fucking bucket hat, and that may be true. In fact, I’ve heard this argument from Lukolas that I highly respect. It’s very possible Jake has taken advantage of his friendship with Nicola. I understand the argument behind this theory and, I’ll be honest, it has made me question Jake’s character.

But, that’s not the point I’m trying to make today.

Today, I want to focus on how Jake became an “adjacent of convenience.”

What is that exactly? Well, actually, I just now made that shit up. But, it means he’s an adjacent, not because he’s romantically involved with Nicola, but rather he was in the wrong place at the right time.

It’s funny to me, when you spend some time mapping out all the little nuances that make up the Lukola timeline, that you start seeing a bigger picture.

I do not know who was behind Papsmear. Word on the street is that it was Deux Moi. I don’t know if anyone has ever actually confirmed that so, for now, I can only speculate – and speculate I will!

If you look at events in chronological order, it is interesting that, in July, the day before a video of Luke and Antonia at the GQ dinner hit social media, Deux Moi posted old pictures of Luke and Antonia from, I believe, January. Why? It’s also interesting that the day before People Magazine published the Italy Pap pictures of Luke and Antonia, Deux Moi rehashed Papsmear. Again, why?

Do you see the patterns patterning?

I thought you would.

Then what happened?

Well, “Hot Boy Summer” suddenly came to an abrupt halt with Luke returning to London.

Alone.

Is it odd to you that Luke has not been papped with Antonia since the end of July? Because it’s pretty damn odd to me. Is it possible that Luke and Antonia ceased to be “together” at the end of July? If you have read my previous entry, you already know my opinion on this.

But, dammit, that’s a shame! No more scraps for the paps. How unfortunate for Deux Moi.

Okay, then what?

Well, “Chaos Week” began. We had Nicola posting a shit storm of content starting August 4 with French toast and ending August 16 with “Juna.” We had Wordle. We had Scrabble. We had the “Drink Your Milk” shirt. We had “Bless the Telephone.” We had “very demure, very mindful” (which, in my opinion, was confirming the intent behind “Chaos Week”). Oddly, all these things seemed to weigh heavily in Lukolas’ favor. We could even take it a bit further by including the August 22 “BTS Polin” picture and the August 23 “modern day carriage” story (you know, the picture of Nicola looking oh-so-come-hither-sexy in the back of a car), which was followed up two days later by JVN’s “finger” demo. I mean, the Lukola train was rolling, right?! Fuck, yeah, it was!

But, then it came to a very abrupt stop on August 25 when Deux Moi posted pictures of Nicola hanging out with Jake at a music festival. The narrative being given? Oh, so cozy vibes.

And, that’s the moment Jake became an adjacent of convenience.

Just from being at a concert.

Taking a picture with Nicola.

Before this point, did I know who Jake Dunn was? Yeah, I did. I’d seen – in fact DEUX MOI – post pictures of Nicola and Jake hanging out in a pub together in July. I’ll be honest, I looked Jake up at the time and everything I read about him seemed to point in the exact same direction it points to today – that he’s not romantically involved with Nicola.

In fact, I polled at least two dozen of my fellow Lukolas (with the majority of them being fellow Fact Finders, with a select few being “long haulers”) about whether they’d heard of “Jakolas” before August 25. Their answer was a collective and figuratively loud NO.

What does that say to you? It makes me believe that the Jakolas were born from those festival pictures.

How convenient.

Just a few short weeks after the Antonia/Luke ship (do they even have a name?) hit an iceberg (pun intended), we suddenly have the christening of a new ship. The USS Jakola.

How convenient.

Now, think about every good thing that has come about in the Lukola fandom since the Jakholes were released into the wild.

Every positive has been collectively counteracted with a negative.

Think about the timing of all those pap pictures with Jake.

Think about who is releasing those pap pictures.

Are the patterns starting to pattern in your head?

Think about how much effort Nicola has put into erasing the Jakola narrative.

Think about how little effort Nicola has put into erasing the Lukola narrative.

Think about how much that must piss the fuck out of the Jakholes. And Deux Moi.

Anyone want to go with me to rescue Jake from the USS Jakola? I heard the Jakholes put him in the hull closet.

If you have some hesitation, I suppose I could agree to keep him hostage until we know where his allegiance lies. But I'm thinking he's dying to get off that ship.

[demonsslayersstuff]

Hair Washing (Levi Ackerman x Gender Neutral Reader)

Description: Just a little slice of life story about helping Levi wash his hair post war.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, nudity, suggestive content (nothing too graphic), and comfort.

A/N: Here’s the first of my end of the year fics that I am writing. I’ve always liked the idea of a soft Levi so I decided to go with that in this fic. Anyway Enjoy!

P.S: Working on chapter 7 of my Gojo fic so keep your eyes open for that!

You hear the all too familiar clatter of what you assume is the shampoo bottle followed by the not so quiet, “Fuck”, that spills out of Levi’s mouth. It had been a never ending battle for Levi in these past few weeks, trying and often failing to shower properly on his own. His injured leg made it near impossible to stand anymore and his lack of fingers on his one hand made gripping soapy slick things extremely difficult.

You sigh, before going to stand awkwardly at the door too afraid to knock. Levi and you had argued bitterly about this predicament, while he was grateful for your offer of help, he didn’t want to feel like an invalid. You respected his feelings and were supportive of him doing things on his own. In fact, you’d always let Levi do things on his own, only helping when he begrudgingly asked you for assistance (after failing to complete the task multiple times on his own).

But today you as you stand near the door you feel a difference in the air, hear a quiet cry of pain and you decide then and there you were done with this situation the two of you were in. You fling the bathroom open and catch the grimace of pain on Levi’s face that he was trying to mask. “I thought I told you that I can do it-”, Levi starts, anger clear in his tone, but for once you don’t care and soon two words that you never thought you’d say to your partner roll off your tongue. “Shut up”, you tell him before you lean down to grab the shampoo bottle you knew he had desperately been trying to pick up, before placing carefully back in its usual place as you flick the shower off for a moment.

Levi stares at you with a shocked expression, eyes blown wide open. In all the years of being in the Scout Regiment together he knew you to be a bit temperamental at times, but never once had you ever spoken back towards a higher ranking official. He watches as you run your palm over your face, fingers rubbing the sides of your temple and sigh, a clear indication of your frustration. “Levi, I know you can do it on your own, I do”, you begin after you remove your fingers from your head, your eyes locking with his.

“You are and will always be one of the strongest people I know. But remember sometimes even the strongest need help and there’s no shame in that”, you finish, tone a bit softer. You watch as Levi huffs before closing his eyes for a long time as he was trying to think of a counter argument. You use the opportunity to squat down near the stool he was sitting on before reaching out to gently cup his cheek, your movements forcing him to open his eyes. “I have an idea in mind, a sort of compromise if you’re willing to hear it?”, you ask him, your voice gone of any previous anger. You so desperately wanted to help him and fighting wasn’t going to solve this.

“Well seeing as you told me to shut up, I don’t really have a choice”, Levi gruffly responds. Your cheeks go red with embarrassment, guilty that you’d let your anger get the best of you. However you hear the lingering trace of cheekiness in his words and know that he’d forgiven you. “Listen, how about for the next few weeks I help you shower”, you start, but Levi doesn’t look too happy with your words. “Let me finish”, you tell him with steely eyes and watch as Levi swallows whatever words were in his mouth. You grab his hand and give it a gentle squeeze before continuing. “As I was saying, I’ll help you shower the next few weeks. But during that time we’ll see what we need to change about the bathroom in order to make showering alone easier for you to do”, you finish with a small smile on your face.

You watch has Levi ponders your suggestion. It was a fair idea, he had to admit and if the two of you managed to change up the bathroom to be more accessible, then he’d be able to gain a sense of independence he’d been trying retain. “Ok, let’s do it”, Levi finally says and you jump up with an excited squeal as Levi sighs quietly, though there was a barely there smile that graced his features. “Now, may help you?”, you ask Levi sweetly. He nods his head in ascent and you get straight to work…by taking off your own clothes.

“What are you doing?”, Levi questions, the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of pink. “Oh please, it’s not like you haven’t seen it before, if I remember correctly last night you were the one practically begging me to lose my clothes”, you quip back, making his ears turn a darker shade of pink. “Besides I don’t want my clothes getting wet”, you continue before turning on the warm water. “You could have just started with that”, Levi mutters though his good eye clung to the curvature of your body, a sight that would never bore him. You were the most beautiful thing on the planet and as you lean down to kiss his forehead, Levi begins to question why the two of you have never showered together in the first place. My stubborn pride, he muses internally.

“Ok, what’s the most difficult thing for you?”, you question as you move to turn the water warmer, the temperate spray falling on both of your bodies. “Reaching for things”, Levi admits honestly, though his tone was thick with embarrassment, which you politely ignored. “Could you please reach for the shampoo so I can make a note of where we need to move the shelf?”, you ask him softly as the water continues trickle down your bodies, its heat creating a steam that swirled around the room. You watch carefully as Levi moves his arm and you make a mental note of where it hovers in the air. “Thanks, I’m gonna start washing your hair”, you murmur as you grab the shampoo, slathering the soap in your hands.

Once they are covered in suds you place your hands onto Levi’s head, fingers working with a meticulous pace as you work the soap into his dark locks and onto his scalp. Levi leans his head back slightly, lost in the touch of your fingers on his head, he moans quietly as your fingers scratch around his ears in a delicate manner. Levi cracks an eye open, to look up at you, your head blocking the water that falls from the shower head. His good eye focuses on your face, capturing the determined yet, soft expression of your face as you continue to wash his hair. Levi can only guess the look on your eyes was the overwhelming love you had for him, something that makes his heart beat a little faster.

You catch his eye watching you, causing you to give him light smile before you lean down and capture his lips with a soft chaste kiss. “Let’s rinse your hair now”, you tell him as you move your head out of the way, letting the water fall across Levi’s face and hair. Your fingers work quickly to rinse out the soap as they thread through his hair, though you are mindful of the potential knots your fingers catch from the earlier scrubbing. You move to stand in front of Levi, hands moving to cup his neck gingerly as you straighten his posture. “Ok, body washing time”, you begin, but Levi cuts you off. “Wait”, he mumbles quietly, voice nearly catching in his throat. You look at him, eyebrows raised, your question spoken through your eyes. “I want to wash your hair”, Levi tells you, voice firm, though his face holds a different emotion.

“Ok”, you murmur as Levi hands come to grip your waist, pulling you onto to his lap. Your thighs come to rest against his hips as your feet rest on the tile floor, brushing up against the stool’s legs. Your hands are splayed on Levi’s shoulders as you straddle his waist, your ass firmly planted on his strong thighs. The two of you get lost in the intimate embrace for a moment, his stormy blue eye holding your own eyes at attention. Levi uses this opportunity to then softly brush his lips against your own, a small gesture riddled with so many unspoken words. Soft Levi was his way of expressing his love without him having to explicitly state it. Your hands release their hold on his shoulders as they creep up back into his wet locks, your arms moving his neck forward gently forcing his face closer. You part your lips, allowing the kiss to deepen, moaning faintly as his tongue swipes against your own. Levi’s grip on your waist tightens, his internal battle of desire brooding on the surface. As much as he’d love to take you here and now, Levi knew that intimacy wasn’t just sex, it was other things, so he resolved to complete his stated task.

With a hushed sigh, Levi begrudgingly pulls away from your heady lips. “Let me wash your hair”, Levi reminds you as he pecks your nose for a brief second, letting you catch your breath. You let out a muffled “Mhmm”, as you grab the shampoo bottle, pouring out more soap, this time into Levi’s palm. You duck your head down as Levi’s fingers work the soap into your hair. You close your eyes as his fingers massage your temple silently, the only sound that could be heard was the water steadily rolling down into the drain. When he was finished, Levi’s fingers moved to help rise the suds from your hair as the still warm water continued to flow across your bodies, almost as if the two of you had been caught in a warm summer rain shower.

Once Levi had completed his task, you reach to grab the body soap, lathering your hands as you rubbed the bar between your fingers. You stand, sad as you removed yourself from your comfortable position on Levi’s lap, but as much as you wanted to remain there and kiss him senseless, the two had now been in the shower for quite some time, your pruned fingers a clear indication of just how long you’d be in the water. “Ready?”, you ask him as you lean down, hands freely roaming his body, layering his skin with a delicate line of soap. Levi wraps his arms on your shoulder as you carefully hoist him up for a moment, allowing himself to clean the parts of him that he couldn’t whilst he was sitting down.

As Levi rinses his body you work quickly to wash your own body before rinsing off yourself, letting the last of the warmth wrap you into a gentle embrace before you finally turned off the water. You step out of the shower to grab two towels from the cabinet across from the sink, handing Levi one before wrapping the fluffy fabric around your body. You watch Levi dry himself of, eyes continuously trained on his sculpted body. “What?”, he asks, bringing you back to attention. “Nothing…I just…you’re, striking”, you mumble, before turning away to dry your hair. Your words cling to Levi, he enjoyed making you flustered, but this time he felt something deeper within your words.

“Thank you”, Levi murmurs as the two of you finish getting dressed, you helping him sit down in his wheelchair. “You don’t need to thank me”, you tell him, picking up the dirty clothes and towels before placing them in the hamper. “No, I do, I’ve been stubborn about this for a while, but today was nice”, Levi continues, sincerity laced in his words. “You’re welcome”, you answer back. “Now, what do you want for dinner?”, you ask him, stepping out of the bathroom. You hear Levi sigh, “No way in hell am I letting you cook again”, he calls after you. You laughter rings through your home and as Levi follows you into the kitchen he can’t help be feel a sense of gratefulness that this is the life he gets to lead now.

[kissitbttr]

frat!Miguel and reader getting into an argument and them posting indirects on each others snap/insta stories and them reposting shady tiktoks knowing the other will see it until miguel just cracks and starts posting cute shit abt her😁😁😁

you are petty when it comes to arguing, never wanted to be the one to take defeat. you will crawl on broken glasses to hell and back before admitting that you’re wrong,

and sometimes it takes a toll on miguel, he’s frustrated over how you are so hard headed sometimes. because then it would lead to this. silent treatment and you stopping to go over the frat house,

but what drives him crazy the most is when he sees all the spam reposts on tiktok coming from your acc, somehow all of them made it to his for you page,

at first, miguel were doing the same too. to see how much you liked getting a little taste of your medicine,

“i’m annoying? you’re annoying, muñeca. let’s see how you like this one. bam” he snickers to himself as he reposts another tiktok of a guy complaining about his girlfriend’s petty behavior,

however the thing is? you don’t actually give a shit,

you’ve been training far too long to deal with this thanks to the shitty men in your previous relationship. so him being petty as you? doesn’t bother you a bit. if anything, it makes it more fun,

it irks him to know that you’re not responding to any of it. if he’s being honest, he wants you to spam him with texts of you being clingy and telling him to stop doing all that extra shit on tiktok. he misses that. he misses you

he swears he’s not letting himself go at that time. he wants you to be the one who apologizes or at least hit him back up. even glen had told him before to wait a couple more days and see if you would actually text him instead the other way around.

but five days without talking to his muñeca and sleeping by her side? yeah, he’s had it

miguel swipes through his contact list and hit your number before dialing it, pacing back and forth in his room.

“hello?” you answer after a few rings,

“i give up. I can’t. i don’t like this, i don’t like you being far from me” he blurts out without saying hello back, head shaking. “you need to come back, muñeca, please. i’m fucking losing it here”

“so you admit defeat, huh?” you smirk on the other line,

“yes. i am folding. i am on my knees.” he admits, running through a hand through his hair out of frustrations. “i’ll say anything you want to hear, whatever it is”

with a chuckle, you decide to tease him more. “post me more on your socials, maybe i think about it”

“i did!” he cries out, “three on my stories and three of your pics on the feed. and I’m rarely active on instagram, you know that!”

oh, he’s serious about this. “aw that’s so sweet, o’hara”

he wide eyed, not liking that name. “o’hara? who the fuck—no o’hara here! i am not o’hara to you, princesa!”

you laugh at how adorable he sounds when he gets upset over you call him by his last name,

you do miss him. miss him so much you can’t even think straight any more. and you hate having this little argument with him, it takes too much of you and his time. sleeping alone doesn’t sound so good anymore, it’s better with hin around.

“get over here, miggy”

he grins at your sudden invitation, grabbing his car keys off the table before rushing out of his room, nearly tripping over the carpet floor as he plucks his jacket from the couch. couple of the guys are all sat in the living room, eyes darting to his.

“woah, easy there pal. going somewhere?” beck raises an eyebrow at his best friend’s clumsy antics,

miguel slips on his shoes and put his signature snapback on

“heading over to my girl’s. won’t be back till tomorrow. bye.”with a cheeky grin, he fist bumps beck who looks at him funny before walking out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

carlos pops a beer can open, plopping onto the empty space of the sofa.

“you guys see that right? him being fucking whipped?”

[vminizzle]

Unplanned night

pairing : husband!jungkook x f.reader

genre : angst, smut

warnings : soft dom!jungkook, jealous!reader (not that jealous tho), argument, teasing, pet names, swearing, sexting?, cybersex?, voyeurism, masturbation, marking, manhandling, praising, slight chocking, penetration, unprotected sex, doggy style, missionary, mirror sex, multiple orgasms (3), overstimulation, creampie, cockwarming. ( lot of words had been repeated sorry 💀 that’s actually embarrassing.) HONESTLY I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS THIS FIC SORRY

words count : 3.8k

A/N : hello hello, i hope you all doing fine. I felt like I haven’t posted in awhile even tho I posted there are a few days ago. well, here a little something I just wrote in my car while waiting for my next course in uni, because I’m introverted and I don’t interact with human irl. I rather stay in my car lmao. THIS is ACTUALLY the messiest thing I’ve ever wrote, but I hope you’ll like it tho, decided to change a bit. REMINDER : POOR ENGLISH. Love y’all !! -sunny

Heavily unedited!!

FEEDBACKS ARE WELCOMED 🦋

M RATED

"Oh c’mon don’t act like you’re innocent." you rolled your eyes.

"you’re exaggerating." he shook his head exasperated, throwing the keys on the counter.

Jungkook and you just came back home from a dinner with your friends, the evening was going well until one of your old college classmate joined you. She invited herself at your table without any shame.

Not only she was annoying but she was flirting with your husband.

"you flirted back!" you pointed at him as he followed you to the living room.

"now you’re just saying bullshit!" 

"C’mon if I wasn’t there she’d had sit on your lap! I had to put my hand on your thigh to remind her I was here, because she kept on touching you. She’s so fucking touchy and all, it irritated me!"

Jungkook sighed as he watched you stomping back and forth around the glass table.

"Listen, it’s not like that. You know I wouldn’t had let that happen-"

"wow that’s awesome! Should I congratulate you for saying that?" you threw your hands in the air dramatically.

"now, you’re gonna calm the fuck down because you’re getting annoying." he huffed at your behavior.

You stared at him speechless as he let his body drop on the couch.

"so i am annoying now?" you put your hands on your hips looking down at your husband, this one sighing heavily.

"It’s not like th-"

"It’s like what then?"

"You’re overreacting."

"she purposely tripped over you and that disrespectful slut kissed your neck!" you pointed toward his neck.

"that’s the collar of my fucking shirt!" he furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief.

"still! look at it! her ugly lipstick stained it."

"y/n." he started, resting his elbows on his knees, looking up at you.

"we’re not gonna argue because of that, are we?" he lifted an eyebrow up expectantly.

"I wouldn’t be arguing with you right now, if you didn’t opened your mouth to defend her." you crossed your arms over your chest angrily.

"what the fuck are you saying this time?! I didn’t even defend her!" he breathed deeply trying to keep his calm.

"you knew damn well she used to have a crush on you when we were in college but you didn’t put her in her place when she started flirting with you! She’s so shameless that she did it in front of me. Let me remind you that you’re married-"

"oh yea, the fuck I am." he rolled his eyes letting his body fall back on the couch again.

"what do you mean?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"you don’t get it y/n. I didn’t flirt with her."

"it’s the way you talked to her. You still talked like we were in college. And when she touched you? You didn’t even moved! You let her do what she felt like." your grip on your purse tightening at the thought of it.

"I don’t want to argue with you princess, please let’s not. You probably misunderstood the situation. You know I love you and I wouldn’t flirt with anyone else than you, my wife." you gulped, his words making your heart beat slowly as you started feeling guilty.

But what you’ve seen tonight was just annoying. You just wanted to jump on her and choke her to death for touching your husband. You weren’t really the jealous type but there are limits to respect. And this woman crossed the line.

"but Jungkook, she knows damn well we’re married. Why would she acted like that?"

"maybe she was a bit too tipsy-"

"and again! you’re finding fucking excuses to defend her!" you threw your purse on him angrily, this one catching it midway to not get hit. 

You started walking away to the stairs making Jungkook groaned throwing the purse aside on the glass table annoyed.

"now where are you going?" he asked.

"bedroom. I don’t want to continue fighting with you tonight." you replied dryly.

"argh fuck it!" Jungkook threw his head back frustrated.

Usually, when you came back from a date or dinner with your friends, you both would come home in a good mood - a very good mood. 

Starting with slow little kisses at the front door, clothes on the floor in the living room as you both undress each other impatiently as you made your way upstairs to the bedroom.

But tonight, your plan have been changed.

Earlier, the ride was way too quiet, the atmosphere cold. No holding hands, only your husband stealing glances time to time at your angry figure sat next to him in the car.

Slamming the bedroom’s door and locking it, you made your way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it.

You stared into the void, thinking about your husband being close but not so close of you. He was in the house but it felt like he wasn’t here. It felt like he was far, really far away from you.

You didn’t wanted to be mad at him but his behavior got on your nerves. You weren’t even sure if he did something bad or not?

Did he? You hesitated.

Because letting another woman touch your arm and feeling "how strong you got since college" is not the best thing to let happen, right? On top of that, just next to your wife.

You stared at your phone, the screen showing your wallpaper, the beautiful picture of your wedding decorating it.

Suddenly, an idea popped in your mind. You’ve never done that before, but guess there is a first time to everything.

You decided to get on his nerves too. But in a better way. 

Jungkook is the type to get impatient over things he really wants. Things he wants right away if he had the chance to get it.

So teasing him was the best way to drive him mad. And on top of that, you’d get advantage from this little "punishment".

Jungkook grabbed his phone from his back pocket as he heard a notification.

He furrowed his eyebrows confused as he saw your name displayed on the screen.

y/n : [ attachment ] 

His eyes widened when he opened the message making him chock on his own saliva. He stopped breathing for a second, gulping as his eyes stayed glued on his screen.

"is she serious right now?" he pursed his lips not knowing how to feel.

He stood up walking upstairs to the bedroom.

"open the door." he knocked on the bedroom’s door firmly.

"no! I’m not gonna open." you replied calmly.

"I’m asking again. Open that fucking door y/n. I’m not playing." he knocked again impatient.

"I said no." you repeated confidently.

y/n : [ attachment ]

"why are you doing that?" he whined, resting his head on the marble separating you from him.

The "naughty" picture of you making him lose his mind.

Your beautiful body clamped in a black lingerie, sat on the carpeted floor on your knees facing the mirror, left hand cupping your bra covered breast, a small smirk decorating your pretty lips.

y/n : [ attachment ]

Jungkook gulped as he opened the new "punishment" you were "imposing" him.

Sat on the floor completely this time, still facing the big mirror, your left hand was now laying between your parted legs, covering the part where you needed him. 

< your hand would had been much better but I’ll do with what I have. > 

Jungkook bit his bottom lip, the caption making blood rush down there.

"C’mon please. Open the door baby." he asked desperately.

"nope. go away. I won’t open it."

"fuck! you’re really stubborn when you want to."

He groaned going downstairs to the living room disappointed, he sat on the couch thinking about a way to make you open the door before he lose his patience and break it.

Suddenly, his phone rang pushing him out of his thoughts. He immediately grabbed it without any second thought.

[ FaceTime ] 

His thumb reacted faster than his brain as he pressed on the green button. 

"y/n why-"

Jungkook stopped when he saw you.

He closed his eyes shut tight, feeling his pants getting tighter.

You smirked as you stared at your husband’s reaction.

"why are you doing that?" he muttered literally in pain, lowering his head 

"why? hmm.. guess." you pursed your lips.

"I didn’t do anything." 

"if you say so." you shrugged.

"C’mon open the door please." he looked at his phone again, his eyes dark, staring at your half naked body.

You thought for a moment before shaking your head with a playful smile.

"gosh what do you want from me? beg? I’ll do anything you want baby." he whined making you smirk.

"aw you’re so cute when you’re needy." you tilted your head to the side feeling satisfied.

You put your laptop away from your lap, pushing it a bit farther on the bed from you. You sat on your knees, facing the device.

Jungkook stared at the screen, throat getting dry.

"do you like it?" you smiled cutely, referring to the lingerie adorning your body, hand sliding from your chest to your lower stomach.

"so much, you can’t even imagine." he whispered, eyes following your hand down resting on top of your thigh.

He gulped as your other hand went up to play with the strap of the bra.

"the straps are so thin, or is it just me?"

"they’re fine." he breathed out making you hummed.

"what about the panties? lacy, do you like it?" you smirked knowing well that’s what he loves.

His weakness.

"fuck honey stop teasing!" he groaned impatiently.

"shh, calm down." you put a finger on your own lips.

Your fingers hooked in the waistband of the lacy material, pulling it slowly aside showing how stretchy the underwear was.

"It seems so fragile." you said with a fake disappointed voice.

You bent down a little to look closer to the screen, showing a bit more of your cleavage on purpose.

Jungkook’s hand travelled down to his pants, resting it on his confined boner as he watched your own hand sliding down between your legs.

"it feels so good." you said as you drew little circles on your lightly covered clit making Jungkook moan lowly, hand pressing on his bulge.

"fuck." he laid himself more comfortably on the couch, eyes not leaving the screen. 

You closed your eyes as your hand travelled up to cup your breast firmly, your other hand still teasing you, rubbing slowly on your clit.

"take it off princess." he said making you looked at him.

"please."

You weren’t used to it, doing such thing. You tried your best to stay confident but your body was burning from how shy you felt at the moment.

"do it."

Your hands went behind your back, unhooking the bra throwing it on the carpeted floor.

"fuck yes." he started unbuttoning his shirt, getting rid of it as he felt hot.

Jungkook put his phone on the glass table, quickly unbuckling his belt, pushing his pants and boxer down at once.

Taking his device back, his eyes wandered all over your body.

You looked so beautiful. 

Jungkook knew you tried to act nonchalant, sure of what you were doing, so he decided to play along and make you feel more confortable.

"hey look at me.” he said softly.

"touch yourself."

You froze for a few seconds before he talked again.

"C’mon baby touch yourself for me." he said breathlessly as he grabbed his cock pumping it slowly.

"you’re so gorgeous, look how hard I am because of you." he hissed, his thumb teasing himself as he brushed it over the slit.

You opened your mouth, no words coming out when he lowered his phone, showing you what his hand was busy doing.

"take these off too pretty please." he ordered gently, eyes on the black garment covering you from him.

Jungkook always been like that.

Even when you tried to be in control, he always finds a way to take over.

It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy when you tried to be the one in control but you always end up whining for him to continue. And the way you’re so submissive for him always excited him.

You complied, hooking your fingers into the lacy material dragging it down your legs, discarding it away.

Your husband moaned at the view. The dimmed light enough to show your perfect features. 

"lay down and open your legs for me." his voice low.

You took a deep breath as you laid back on the pillow, parting your legs timidly.

"now touch yourself. show me how you do it. show me how you pleasure yourself."

"Jungkook." you whimpered as your fingers came in contact with your core.

"yes my love?" his hand still stroking his cock slowly, knowing you were lost already to answer him.

You slid two fingers between your glistening lips, teasing your entrance.

"put a finger in." he said between breaths.

Entering a finger slowly inside you, you grabbed on the sheet.

"put another one baby."

You let a breathy moan escaped from your mouth as you inserted another finger.

"good girl." he said eyes sparking at how submissive you were. 

"Imagine it’s my fingers." Jungkook watched with dark eyes as your fingers went in and out of you.

"yours are better." you whined as you went faster.

Jungkook moved his wrist faster too, tightening his fist around him.

"fuck princess you’re so fucking pretty."

You looked toward the laptop, watching as your husband pleasured himself, his eyes closed, mouth ajar, his head leaned back.

You moaned loudly as you rubbed your clit adding stimulation to push you closer to your orgasm.

"keep going baby." Jungkook encouraged you.

You threw your head back into the pillows as you felt it coming.

"Jungkook I’m-"

"Cum for me." he moaned loudly as he came on his hand, some landing on his lower stomach making him swear as he kept on stroking himself.

Your left hand went to play with your hardened nipple, your thumb flicking it.

You started clenching around your fingers as you came, moaning your husband’s name loudly.

"you did well darling." you heard Jungkook praised as you tried to catch your breath.

You stared at the laptop screen, eyes on him, the man staring at you too.

"fuck it." you groaned getting off the bed, grabbing the device and shutting it off.

Jungkook threw his phone away, getting rid of his pants and boxer pooling at his ankles as he rushed to the stairs to go to the bedroom.

You put the laptop on the furniture near the large mirror facing the bed before walking to the door, unlocking it.

Jungkook was about to knock on it when you opened it.

You looked into each other’s eyes, lust fogging each other’s mind.

You suddenly grabbed him by the back of his neck surprising him as you pulled him down on you, enveloping his lips in an eager kiss.

"god I fucking need you." Jungkook parted away pulling you on him, your chest pressed against his muscular one.

He bent down to kiss on your neck softly, sucking on the skin, your hands flat on his chest.

"Jungkook." you breathed hastily making him hummed.

"I want you."

"I knew you couldn’t resist me." he smirked making you look away embarrassed.

"and I can’t resist you either." he grinned lifting your face to look at your flustered face.

"you know I was about to break that fucking door to come make love to you when you sent me those pretty pictures." he grabbed you by your hips, your heart picking up the pace as he backed you to the bed.

"now that I’m here, I’ll take you as much as you can handle." he warned, his gaze a bit too serious.

He pushed you gently on the mattress, hovering over your bare body.

He attached his lips with yours, sucking on your tongue. You kissed him lovingly as your fingers made their to his hair.

His teeth pulled on your bottom lip as he detached from the heated kiss.

You felt his hard on pressing against the inside of your thigh making you feel aroused again.

Jungkook stood up, making you support yourself on your elbows, looking at him confused.

"on all fours. right now." he ordered with a too gentle voice for the current situation.

"what!?" you furrowed your eyebrows sitting up.

"I said, on all fours." he repeated approaching your frozen body. 

He lifted you up effortlessly, making you on your knees, hands in front of you as he positioned himself behind you.

"do you need prep or your little cam girl session earlier was enough?" he teased.

"fuck you." you muttered making him laugh.

Jungkook held your hip as he took his cock in his hand, aligning himself at your entrance.

He rubbed the head of it on your glistening lips making you whimpered.

"stop teasing."

"oh darling, you’re started it." he reminded.

"but since I’m way too impatient right now I won’t tease you." he sighed playfully as he moved forward.

"tell me to stop at any moment if it hurts or anything yea?"

"please do something." you pushed your bottom back on him, his hands stilling your hips.

Jungkook penetrated you painfully slow, making you feel every inches of his cock, the little vein on the side stroking against your velvety wall made you feel dizzy already.

You gasped as he started moving, his hands holding firmly on your sides.

"you feel so good around me." he threw his head back, his fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips.

He looked in front of him, his cock twitching inside you at the view, making you clench around him at the sudden feeling.

"fuck!" 

Jungkook hand travelled all along your spine to your hair, pulling you up to him, your back flat against his hard chest. 

He grabbed on your chin, making you looked in front of you.

You moaned as Jungkook hand went to grab your breast, massaging it gently, his finger teasing the erected bud, flicking it over and over, making you lose your mind.

"look at you." he pointed to the infamous mirror facing the bed.

"taking me so well."

His fingertips dancing on the smooth skin of your stomach.

You knitted your eyebrows, mouth ajar as you felt this familiar knot in the pit of your stomach.

"babe I’m close." you whimpered, your hand clasped on his forearm as you started clenching around him uncontrollably.

"Look in the mirror. Look at me when I’m making you feel good darling." he ordered.

His hand travelling up to your neck, fingers around your throat. He applied a light pressure enough to make you overwhelmed.

You shook your head, tears forming in your eyes as you felt his fingers rubbing on your clit.

"open your eyes pretty." he bit on your earlobe softly, his breath fanning over your neck.

You opened your eyes meeting his lustful ones.

You wanted to look away, his stare making you feel small but he was just so attractive, you couldn’t take your eyes off his face.

Some stands of his long black hair sticked on his sweaty forehead, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, droplets of sweat running down his neck, eyebrows knitted as he concentrated on hitting the spot that could make you see stars.

His beautiful veiny tattooed hand still resting around your neck.

You cried out as you came around him.

Jungkook held your weak body as he felt your thighs trembled from your orgasm, the pleasure too much for you to handle as he kept on snapping his hips into yours.

He suddenly switched position as he laid you on your back.

"fuck! you feel so fucking good! so warm and tight!" your husband moaned as he went faster, his hand grabbing your thigh angling it higher resting it on his waist.

You sobbed as he started sucking softly on your nipple, his wet muscle caressing the hard bud as he licked it, looking up at your face.

"I- i cant-" you chocked a moan when he bent down to bite on the abused skin of your neck.

"I’m so close." he moaned lowly in your ear.

You let a tear roll down your cheek as the overstimulation was getting unbearable.

"too much." you sobbed, head spinning at the pleasure hitting you again.

Your nails buried deep into the flesh of his back, scratching the soft skin as your legs started trembling again.

He groaned as he picked up the pace making the headboard hit the wall.

He put your leg back down as he felt his own orgasm coming.

Jungkook held your hands at each sides of your head before intertwining your fingers together.

"Jungkook!" you tightened your hands around his, squeezing your eyes shut as you let your orgasm washed over you.

Jungkook came inside you after a few strong thrusts, filling you up to the brim, a loud moan of your name passing by his lips.

His body collapsed on top of yours as he stayed inside you.

You breathed heavily, hand going up to caress his back, the other hand going on the back of his head caressing his messy hair.

He left lazy wet kisses on your neck after a few minutes.

"I love you." he whispered, face resting on your chest.

"I love you." you pecked the top of his head softly.

"did I go too hard?" he asked hoping he didn’t do too much, if he didn’t hurt you or push you over your limits.

"no, don’t worry." you reassured him still stroking his scratched back.

He hummed feeling your soft touches caressing over the burning skin, enjoying the warmth of your body under him.

"y/n?" he called quietly making you hum.

"I’m sorry." he lifted his head up to look at you.

"Koo it’s o-"

"no no listen please. I don’t know why you thought all these things. But forget them. You definitely misunderstood. I’ll never do whatever you said earlier. I love you and you only. I’d never flirt with anyone else than you. I’ll never disrespect you in any way. You mean so much for me. I respect you a lot. You’re my wife. The person I love the most. I don’t care about her and I didn’t find excuses to defend her." he explained making you feel guilty again.

"I want to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was so mad and I wasn’t think right I guess. She got on my nerves and I maybe, accused you for doing what you probably didn’t do. I’m sorry." you sighed making you husband shook his head.

"don’t apologize my love." he caressed your cheek before pecking your lips.

"I love you so much Jungkook. You mean so much for me too."

He rolled the both you over, so you're laying on top.

"I love you more, my favorite cam girl." he grinned making you slapped his chest.

"gosh you’re so annoying."

Jungkook laughed, hugging you tightly.

—

a/n : probably a weird way to finish this fic sorry 🥸. Well, I hope it wasn’t that bad. Thank you for reading! I love y’all.

[inkskinned]

im gonna start a fight; and, at the same time, i need you to take this in the most good-faith way possible, but:

videos that involve body-checking and intentionally (and uncritically) show a mealplan of an unhealthy number of calories are just a revamped version of pro-ana food diaries.

and yeah, i know there's arguments. i address some of them under the cut. but at the end of the day, we're just coming back to romanticizing mental illness; we've just found a better platform for it.

this is already something we've done. we knew it was wrong and tried to stop it. and tbh. it just wasn't enough.

there are people who argue "well, what if you have an eating disorder, you can't help it if you don't eat!" except that as someone with an ED; we are not infants. we know what we're doing. part of having an ED is that you are like, maybe too self-aware. even if we can't help our own food choices, we don't need to fucking romanticize the disorder - something we've been warning you about since 2013. there are hours of setup, filming, and editing that go into these videos. they do not happen to fall into place randomly. there is a reason they are pieced together to be beautiful, bright, inspiring.

there's this woman who pretty much only posts daily plans under a normal amount of calories, and everyone defends her saying but it's better than nothing! and i'm like. except she opens those with images of her showing off her body and provides no context in the video or caption that suggests that she believes what she's doing is unhealthy. she has hundreds of thousands of followers on a platform designed for young kids and teens. i refuse to believe that by accident her content just happens to be cheery advice on "healthy" versions of starving.

for any other symptom of mental illness, we would be incredibly enraged by this kind of placid acceptance of a "tips and tricks" fast-start guide. imagine if people posted pink & pretty videos saying "best places to cut yourself" as if it was a fucking storytime. we, as a society, are so fucking fatphobic that we would rather accept blatantly harmful displays of self harm than admit that we are obsessed with a hyper-thin body type.

i am not suggesting someone never talks about their disorder. i talk about mine. actually, it's a plot point in my book.

here's the difference: i recognize it's a fucking mental illness. i am very careful to never mention a specific weight, eating pattern, or calorie plan. i always make sure to position it as something that ruined my fucking life. i do not put cheery music in the background and hearts and sparkles over my worst moments. i do not film it in bright light. i do not start each passage with an image of a thin body followed by "here's how to look like her."

eating disorders should not be framed as aspirational. and the problem is that society worships the "after" image, so long as you don't get too sick. there is a reason so many people who quit being "influencers" will later admit - i wasn't eating well that whole time; an obsession with food was completely destroying my life.

we let any uncredited, uncertified person write the most backwards, fucked up shit about how to get the body you desire! because the underlying, secret belief is: well, at least they're thin! and the real thing that fucking gets me each time - they make fucking money off of it. their irresponsibility and societal harm literally pays off for them.

"why do you care so much." "don't like it don't look." "so what if people experiment with new ways of thinking of food?"

thank you for asking. we're about to get extremely personal. it's because when i was 18 i discovered "thinspiration"/"thinspo." and it absolutely influenced, shaped, and codified my pre-existing eating disorder. i went from having some troubling habits and traits to being incredibly unwell within what felt like a matter of days. there were actual pages designed to train me on how to have an ED correctly. it was all so suddenly easy. i was sick; and the nature of the illness meant - i wanted to be sicker.

it takes an average of 7 years for a person to fully recover. i know this personally - even now, 10 years from the worst of it, i still fucking struggle. i am so much happier now and i eat what i want and i literally don't think about food at all (19 year old me would shudder) and yet - i still fucking know the calories of plain toast with butter.

an eating disorder is one of the deadliest types of mental illness. over 1 in 4 people with an ED will attempt suicide.

and i'm sorry. i just do not see the exchange rate of "high rate of engagement" versus "the value of a human life."

[edelgarfield]

I am genuinely so sick of seeing the take that "man's hubris caused the calamity" and that being used as "take that!" against the people of Aeor, who largely were not even alive during the start of the Calamity, & who, regardless of the reason, have had to live in a world ravaged by the gods' conflict.

Avalir and Aeor were far from perfect & the ruling class certainly was full of hubris & elitism, but blaming mortals as a whole for the Calamity is so incredibly fucked up. Avalir as a whole did not collectively decide to invite the Betrayer Gods into the Material Plane. The largest instigators of the Calamity were:

1. Vespin Chloras, who was following in the footsteps laid by the Raven Queen, and

2. Zerxus, who was manipulated by Asmodeus, and

3. Asmodeus, who despises mortals because he blames them for the rift driven between the Prime Deities & Betrayer Gods.

Like I can't speak to Vespin Chloras but I genuinely cannot find it in myself to blame Zerxus, a mortal man, for being manipulated by the God of Manipulation, or for believing in redemption and forgiveness. You can think he was foolish to fall for it, but being gullible or having faith isn't a sin. There's a bunch of arguments that "it's arrogant for a mortal to believe himself deserving of forgiving a god" and I won't argue that Zerxus had some arrogance & self-righteousness. But I just. I do not and will never believe that divine beings are morally superior to mortals.

there's this idea that the pursuit of godhood/power is inherently corrupt, and to an extent I'm inclined to agree (I started a whole rant here abt this, but that's a different post). but hand in hand, there seems to be this idea that the gods themselves are shielded from that same corruption, which I simply don't think is true. whether mortals are capable of wielding the power of a god without being destroyed is a separate issue to its morality. something being inherently risky/unsafe does not automatically mean it's wrong. but I don't understand how people can say it's irresponsible/evil for mortals to pursue godlike power, or that they can't be trusted to wield that power, without applying the same logic to the gods themselves. It doesn't make sense to me that the pursuit of power is wrong, but the ones who actually wield that power, sometimes violently & unfairly, only ever wield it responsibly.

in fact, I think that without any sort of power to resist the violence & will of the gods, the gods are left completely unchecked to use Exandria in whatever capacity they choose to. that's an extremely dangerous thing for anyone living on it, and asking mortals to simply trust that the gods will never act against the people of Exandria is an extremely cruel thing. If people choose to have faith in the gods & their will, that's wonderful. But faith being a requirement just to live peacefully, & deeming anyone without faith sinful & arrogant is unfair.

it's not morally bankrupt to desire freedom from the will of the gods. it's not corrupt to want mortals to carve their own path. it's not evil to question what you've been told about the world.

The idea that "man's/Avalir's hubris caused the Calamity" feels like a fantasy version of "humanity is causing climate change" or "humans are inherently evil," which are extremely unpopular opinions on Tumblr. It's attributing actions taken by one or a small group of people to humanity as a whole. It's blaming humanity for being manipulated by a higher power. It's holding mortals responsible for their own murders.

[elumish]

dude...no need to be an asshole to that last anon, wtf? I can absolutely see how they read your post like that. just because you run a writing blog doesn't make up incapable of being unclear.

your shitty response was way out of line and uncalled for. maybe try chilling the fuck out and not attacking people because they read your post differently than you intended, jfc. shit like this makes me feel like I can never engage with your posts because you might fly off the handle and act like an asshole to me for not reading your post exactly they way you intended. which is pretty fucking shitty behavior on your part.

that anon made really good points, and I think they were a valid response to what you said. not their problem (or any reader's) that you don't like that that's how some of us read you post. good posts provoke conversations and discussions about nuanced topics - instead you decided to shut that down and be an asshole. grow up, and maybe take your own advice and chill the fuck out. nobody called you a racist or some shit, but you're acting like you got attacked when the only person attacking anyone here is you.

Here are my choices when people send me asks that misunderstand or misrepresent posts that I made:

I ignore them. I do this sometimes. I can and will keep doing it.

I entertain their argument and get sucked into a conversation I have no interest in having.

I tell them that they misrepresented my post and that I'm not going to engage with it.

In this case, I picked option three. Was I a bit harsh? Yeah, maybe. I'm sorry if my tone came across as more aggressive than I intended.

But I am sick of the standard reaction to me talking about things like being cognizant of what we write and trying to avoid doing harm being people telling me that it's censorship or that it's somehow infringing on their ability to write what they want, or that I'm implying that they can't ever bring up a bad or hurtful topic at all.

Because that is probably the most common type of ask that I get whenever I make posts like this. This are not even the only conflating glorifying with talking about at all and then arguing with me based on that misunderstanding reaction I have gotten in the last 48 hours.

But, and I mean this genuinely, I would like to know what I am saying that is implying that. I have read through the posts I made and tried to see where that implication might be coming across, and I can't find it. And so please, I would truly appreciate you or anyone else telling me what in my phrasing or word choice is leading to that conclusion.

Because I want to avoid saying that. That's not the argument I'm trying to make and it's never the argument I've been trying to make. And so if I am accidentally implying that somehow in what I'm saying, I want to know that and change it.

But it's not my job to engage every time someone starts arguing with a point I didn't even make.

[deconstructivesurgery]

I saw someone online recently discuss the reality of Wesker not killing Chris or Jill permanently in any of the RE games because

A) as per usual, long-running series hate to kill their darlings, even when it would occasionally be a believable or satisfying death (plot armor, because people would get mad and mald if their faves were killed by the Villain(tm) they're supposed to shoot dead)

and

B) "well REALISTICALLY it would be SO easy for wesker to kill them because of how strong/fast/etc. he is so point A is the only believable and acceptable answer because obviously they couldn't have killed Chris or Jill off"

and like no dude I get it totally you are right. I can't even argue that you're incorrect you 100% are. I could rightfully argue that realism doesn't matter when it's far more enjoyable to NOT have Chris or Jill dead, especially when their deaths would serve no real compelling narrative purpose except (:() HOWEVER

If you're willing to hear me out, there's an explanation for Wesker never entirely killing either of them for reasons that turn plot armor into something as simple as believable characterization.

Nostalgia. Literally. Just. Nostalgia.

He avoids killing them outright because once upon a time, these people meant something to him. He saw WORTH in them, valued them, possibly even to the extent of finding it difficult to try and sacrifice them initially (something I am going to go ON about in another long ass post soon enough). TLDR: He was attached.

Long ass post underneath if you want to hear me blather on about why I think this :)

After his initial failed attempt to have them all killed because Umbrella commanded it, I'm not surprised he simply settled for toying with them for the most part. He doesn't need to, and more importantly- doesn't want to. He can never have their allyship back, but he can still see them in action. He can best them, sure- but why would he kill them when he still savors those interactions, when they clash? Why would he destroy the last pieces of a past he's attached to to the point of bringing it up constantly up until his death?

I've always found it funny how many lines Wesker actually has referencing the past. You were my best man, your 'partner' (said snidely in reference to an era where they were in the same squad) is in danger, I should've killed you years ago, etc.

And just the line. The fucking line. From the Umbrella chronicles. I'm not even going to retype it I'm just putting it here.

I understand, by the way, that he's being sarcastic, but I do genuinely believe there's a grain of truth in this. I think he does in fact want to see them survive.

Side note: What with his appraisal of their skills and his direct use of Jill's own blood later to temper Uroboros to make it less fatal, I love to make the mental stretch here that somewhere in his little ape brain he was hoping if infected with uroboros both would be "quality" enough to become like him. I think his ideal future still has them kicking around in it, viable hosts for uroboros mutation so they could join him in his new Minecraft server for cool people.

ANYWAYS tangent aside back to the nostalgia argument, on an individual basis this time. We're starting with Jill, because even though Wesker isn't an obsessive freak over her like he is with Chris, I still firmly believe he's attached to her as well.

Why else would he do what he did to her, after her presumed death via falling-off-a-cliff? Sure, you could argue it was simply a calculated decision based on the fact that he knew her blood would be useful, but I like to think of it a bit differently.

You crash into the rocky water below a tall, tall bluff, battered beyond belief- but quickly repairing yourself- and the body of another (probably also fucked up by that impact, and not capable of immediately fixing that) next to you. I don't think even Wesker would be doing mental math in his head at that very moment, considering the precise reasons why Valentine might be valuable to him down the line. I think he just automatically assumes he needs to take her with him because it's her. She gets dragged out of the water and slapped into medical care as quickly as he can manage it simply because she's an important part of that past he refuses to move on from. A part of the team. Then, she's a useful source of antibodies to help with the transformation of uroboros- but she's also a brainwashed bodyguard, something of a sidekick. Why? He could hire someone. He could use anyone. If she was useful for samples alone, he could've kept her in a cell for years to intermittently steal a few ounces of blood. But of course he wouldn't, and he wouldn't kill her or dispose of her otherwise, either- because Jill Valentine was skilled and strong and a dedicated team member, and maybe- just maybe- it's nothing short of satisfying to have her fighting at his side again, even if it's a facsimile of their old team dynamic. Plus, you know: bonus points that it'd horrify Chris to see his best friend and beloved work partner of many years through thick and thin working for him, when they inevitably clash again.

And then, of course, there's Chris. He beats him senseless only to piss off over very mild retaliations, promising to meet him again. You've probably heard a lot about that before. I could go on about that. But what I'd rather go on about instead is the one time he clearly determines that killing Chris for good is necessary, and that's in RE5.

...And look at how he talks during that. He brings up the "should've killed you years ago" thing- and fails to explain why he didn't. It wasn't due to any failure on his part, truly. He's beat Chris in combat several times, he's had the chance before and refused to take it. He asks Chris why he can't *understand his plans*, as if somehow expecting that there'd be a chance that he WOULD understand- and then what? He wouldn't need to kill him? Could get him to be a part of this new world he has planned, even?

Going over the times he could've killed Chris and didn't is fun, but I don't think anything illustrates my point of unwilling attachment and nostalgia for the past more than his gambit of literally asking "why can't you understand this" to the man he's actively attempting to bludgeon upside the head with virus tentacles, because he'd much prefer it if he didn't feel compelled to do that.

...so yes. At the end of the day, it's plot armor that prevented Chris from getting snapped like a stick during one of their brawls, or from Jill being dead after her cliff stunt, probably. But it's always going to be more fun- to me at least- to see it as the product of Albert Wesker genuinely not knowing how to let go of those "lovely stars members" (a line I think about way more than I should).

[velvetvexations]

This is a protective ask. It encourages you to check whether you really want to answer the asks beneath yet. Be good to yourself, you do good work for all of us <3

Thank you, anon. <3

sick of feeling like queer spaces seem to expect masculine people to be protectors and supporters without ever expecting to have to give us protection and support too. it's always how trans mascs can be allies to trans femmes and never the other way around. it's what about the scary trans man in the women's bathroom and little discussion of the threat we are under in these scenarios. it's always use your masculinity to protect me, but nobody can give without receiving. support and protection are features of community and community needs to be at least somewhat mutual. I refuse to constantly put myself in danger to protect someone who sees my suffering simply as an inherent duty of my presentation. let me be butch and slow and gentle for a change. let me be scared and held please.

I'll hold you. It's okay. You don't have to put yourself in danger to be a man, I promise.

people love love love to be blatantly misogynistic towards trans men/mascs and be like "well actually its subversive because he's a man! teehee!" was it subversive when i got told to shut up because i was the only women present (post coming-out) was it subversive when i got told i had to wear a dress to show off my feminine figure (post coming-out) was it subversive when i got called shrill mid-argument (post-coming out) was it subversive when nobody except me would clean the communal areas in the flat because i "did it so well" (post coming-out) was it subversive when i had my music taste made fun of when i was a 13 year old girl? is it subversive now that im a 20 year old trans guy? am i not the same person? is it subversive when people talk about trans men the same way people talk about teenage girls. is talking about teenage girls like that subversive if they come out as trans men later. or is it maybe a little different?

I'm sorry anon, you deserve so much better.

This discourse is always so fucking bizarre because IRL I'll be hanging out with trans women, getting fun updates from my friend on how her E dosage is going and her first foray into wired bras, spending time with the only other transmasc I know IRL at a 'women + nonbinary people' event because that's literally the only queer space near us intended for transmascs, and it's just incredibly obvious people perpetuating this discourse don't go outside

touching grass is vital

The shortest line joke reminds me of the fact that when I was more femme presenting & the women's toilets were blocked off, I went into the men's bathroom and a man went 'Ah! You scared me' and I was like at last, I am the threat <3 I haven't tested to see what will happen if I go to the men's bathroom now that I've started getting weird looks from women from being in theirs. Probably more of the same. It's hard out here being a bathroom liberation free the nipple communist

so true

i spent an hour arguing with a TRF and i'm exhausted. there's a reason i have a boundary with myself about getting into discourse. i don't know how you do it, but thank you for doing it from those that can't <3

I do what I must because I can <3

oh and then the same person said she think its funny to call trans men ‘birthday boys’… i neeeeed to mock and infantilise all trans men because a couple of them disagreed with me!

context

if someone treats you that way call them a slur back until they stop

(do not do that)

Yo it hit me over the head just now- i think there's a large portion of transfems who never did any gender work beyond their own. Like the running joke of 'of course every guy secretly wants to be a girl'; I'm not sure they can conceptualize us wanting to be masculine for any reason so there has to be some sort of 'ulterior motive'

Correct, though stupid selfish assholes with the same lack of comprehension or desire to comprehend the experiences of others come in all kinds.

[louisisalarrie]

https://www.tumblr.com/louisisalarrie/768442856463548416/i-think-a-lot-of-people-on-both-sides-of-the

Sorry but this theory does not support Freddie not being Louis’ child. Very unfair to compare parenting styles. Zayn lives in the US so can be closer to his daughter plus he doesn’t have to deal with damaging comments about his child not being his when he does post pics.

Louis has chosen not to live in the US so has to work that bit harder to spend time with his son. We see very little social media of Louis being a dad because he doesn’t want us to. In fact he chooses to share very little of his personal life. This isn’t just about Freddie. This extends to all aspects of his life outside of his work. This doesn’t mean he isn’t regularly with his son. Even if you did see tons of photos of him and Freddie, would this fandom believe it?? No! People would continue to come up with wild theories about the child not being his so it’s no wonder he doesn’t want to publicise it. His little boy will start to read this very soon - what a terrible thing to be part of.

I love quite a lot of your blog, and I love your responses to people. You are always kind even when opinions differ from yours. I can’t agree with you on the Freddie theory though and I think that opinions like this are damaging to Louis and make him feel very unsafe. I can’t understand why those of you that love Lou as much as you say you do, would continue to publicly push this theory. It is not ok to make someone feel unsafe - would you like to be made to feel that way? You’re entitled to your opinions but it’s not ok to continue to publicise them. You are not so aggressive in your responses to be fair but other blogs are and it’s pretty shocking.

hey anon, thank you for the kind words and happy to have you here! welcome to the (very respectful) show

I do think if you’ve been following me long enough, it is quite clear I do not believe for a second that F is Louis’ kid. this is incredibly important to note, because it’s hard for me to actually try and imagine the situation if this was real, simply because it’s so damn bogus. None of it adds up. but I digress

correct. Louis has not chosen to live in the US. which, I could argue, is a pretty shitty thing to do when he already has an LA house and chooses not to spend as much time there. You can argue that he’s a private guy, but it’s a pretty shallow argument when you look at the exposure of this kid over the past 9 years. so, if we do pretend he’s a dad for a second here, he’s not been private of that kid, including everything being papped from the get go, plastered him all over Instagram, continues to allow his sisters to have him all over Instagram, didn’t take legal action against TMZ and the other media outlets that posted F’s birth certificate, had the kid at one of his shows without security and pointed him out to the crowd (which, mind you, that kid should’ve been in a box because there is always gona be people who don’t believe that F is his son and that’s something louis knows and I doubt any fan would be aggressive but ya know… take some precautions here pal), had a whole segment of him in AOTV, and the list goes on and on.

so, apart from that, we also have the knowledge of this fandom. This fandom is fucking crazy and always has been. In both the best and worst ways. Don’t get me wrong, I love being here. It’s beautiful, and a sense of community, and supporting the boys and their music comes before anything. whether you’re a solo, ot5, anti, larrie, whatever. We love their music and music is so important and it’s why I’ve dedicated so much time to get where I am. anyway

this fandom knows a hell of a lot about the boys locations. Earlier days more so than now, but it’s clear louis spends a lot of time not in LA. He doesn’t even have custody of the kid. No paternity test, nothing. SO that’s also important. He can’t spend all his time with F in LA if he doesn’t have custody, even though he pays child support allegedly idk the legality of it all is a shit show

so, anyway, this kid is still constantly posted by the Tommo sisters, B’s family, and he was presented to the public like craaaaaazy when he was born. Louis gives a fuck about privacy, you’ve acknowledged that, but if he gave a single FUCK about privacy this kid wouldn’t have even been announced to the world, let alone publicised at every given chance.

[lionheartedmusings]

i saw a post earlier that q!tubbo is the only "moral" character even after purgatory and it's kinda kept me awake, not because i don't agree with the sentiment (i do) but because the idea of morality as intrinsically important in fandom / character analysis is fascinating to me, *especially* when we're talking about the morality of someone who's basically just spent two weeks in some eye guy's budget hunger games.

first off, while i fully agree that by the end of this q!tubbo *is* a character that tried at every turn to be kind and generous even to his own detriment, how does that make him more or less "moral" than q!phil or q!fit? he still killed, the same as them. he still strategized to beat his friends, has blood on his hands — why is he marked above x, y, or z in the moral scale?

well, one could argue that he did what he did for his team, for the eggs, and because he was forced to when he was put in the game in the first place, yeah? it's not his fault he's in this position, and he's doing his best to survive it. i personally think that's totally valid and justifiable, but it leaves a huge elephant in the room.

what about everyone else?

i'm going to use q!bad as an example because he's my main pov, and before i go into this analysis i want it known i'm very much playing the devil's advocate and illustrating a point — i am not saying his actions are "good". good? good.

okay. so, q!bad. here we have a non-human father who was told by his missing child to win regardless of the cost, or whomever he had to run over. he had to win. is it immoral then for him to take that to heart and play the game the way it was presented? is it immoral for him to kill for his child, or to be determined to win even in detriment of others? to want to use the same strategies in the battlefield that everyone else would, even if they're not kind or polite?

i don't fucking know, because morality isn't linear — this situation *isn't* linear bc if people will go on the record saying they would kill for their child and are praised for it, what makes q!bad's actions in the universe he's existing in any different?

you can even say that by some perspectives, q!tubbo extending so much kindness to his competitors over and over again was at times (or could've been) detrimental to his team ergo their childrens' lives and yet he still did it. is it more moral to save children or be nice to someone else?

my point being, i feel that the morality argument while very very interesting is kind of irrelevant bc when push comes to shove, characters aren't compelling bc they have more or less morals — i genuinely think a lot of media / character consumption has *actively* been harmed by everyone's need to have the thing they enjoy be "good" or "moral" or "right" bc if it isn't, what does that say about us?

the answer to that one is: absolutely nothing, but man do i think sometimes people in fandom feel guilty if they like or prefer an immoral or grey character vs a "stereotypical" moral one.

anyway, all this to say that i think by the end of purgatory, q!tubbo is the character that was most true to himself and his values from start to finish, and it's been a great watch. is he the most morally correct? eh. who the fuck knows.

[paeries]

~ spyrry sneak peek~

disclaimer; contents are subject to change once fully edited and posted

cw; swearing, spy!reader x spy!harry, enemies to lovers??

••••••••

“I don’t care what the conditions are, Terrance! I’m not doing it! Get someone else for it this time.” Y/N barked, doing her best to keep in stride with her boss, who regrettably ruined her otherwise great morning with quite possibly the worst news of her life.

“There is no one else, dammit! You two are the most qualified for this exact job. You’re doing it.” The director glared, “You and Styles both cryin’ about it every morning, I don’t care! If there was another way, don’t you think I’d try and spare myself the agony of hearing you two argue?” he finished, practically out of breath, the poor thing. She rolled her eyes at the mention of his name, and she was sure she was scowling, with the way people were scrambling to get out of the way.

“That’s all good and well, but I am physically not going to do it.” She reiterated, effectively putting her foot down on the matter once they reached the debriefing hall.

“I had a feeling it’d come down to this,” Terrance sighed, and subtly nodded to a few others behind her. “Sorry, Y/N, it’s only for a little while.”

“What are you tal- Hey!” She shrieked as she was grabbed and cuffed to the chair. “Come on! I’ll get out of these!” She huffed, tugging at the silicone covered chains.

“Yes, but it’ll hold you till he gets here.” He answered before stepping out into the hallway and shut the heavy door between them. Her jaw fell open, before anger taking over her, a growl leaving her lips as she pulled at the cuffs. “Cool it, cool it…” She whispered to herself, relaxing as best she could, what with her fists clenched tightly.

She couldn’t believe this, of all the people that work in this god forsaken building, not a single one of them could train well enough to give Harry some better competition as number two. (Because let's face it, she's number one because she is the best, and if they couldn’t beat out Harry, they certainly weren't coming very close to her spot.) And now, because the insufferable prick can’t ever keep his mouth shut, she’s got to be the one cuffed to a chair that's bolted into the damn floor. After all the hard work, and dedication she’s given the agency, everything she’s done to keep money in their pockets, and this is how they treat her? They let one stray dog in, just to muck it up. All the mistakes he’s made that they’ve had to rip her out of her home or training to fix his problems, now they want them to double a mission together? She’d sooner quit.

——

“No, no fucking way.” Harry huffed, slowing his steps down the hallway once he realised he recognised the head of hair waiting in the room they were headed to. “You’re absolutely insane if you think there's any way I’m agreeing to this.” He argued, extending his arm out to gesture to the door. “This isn’t up for discussion, Agent.” The director calmly said, as he had already prepared for another round. Terrance took a steady breath before scanning his badge and the door separating them opened again. There she was, legs crossed over one another, looking totally unamused as she sat at the table while twirling around the cuffs she managed herself out of. “Oh, look, visiting hours.” She deadpanned, rolling her eyes. “What, he doesn’t get cuffs?”

“I don’t believe this! You can’t seriously tell me that no one here is better than her besides me?” He huffed and Y/N rolled her eyes, tossing the cuffs to the table. “No one here is better than me, period. You’re nowhere close to what I bring in.” A snicker falling past her lips as she watched Harry get visibly worked up. “You took out one man, and you think we all have to bow down to you !” Y/N laughed, pleased at his reaction. “It wasn’t one man, it was the man, and there’s no rea-,” She started before the director shut the argument down. “S’enough already. I’d get rid of both of you if there were anyone better. Fact of the matter is, for some reason, your competitiveness against one another, makes the other better. Christ, y’don’t even know what you have to do yet.” Terrance sighed, pinching the nerves at the top of his nose after the pair glared again at one another.

“Now, are we ready to listen?”

——

“That’s even worse than before, T!” She cried, bringing her hands to her face. “We’ll never be able to pass off as a loving couple, are you crazy?!” Harry groaned, “We’ll be killed.”

“Speak for yourself, m’not stupid enough to get myself killed. It’ll be you that does it because you can’t keep y’mouth-,” She was seething, but thankfully the director stepped in once again with a slam of the rather hefty dossier on the table. “That is the brief, moving on.” He breathed, going to the screen to pull up the pictures. “I don’t care how you do it, when you do it, where you do it, just don’t use a gun. Ballistics tells too much about our whereabouts. Locate, and disarm the bomb, Harry, and Y/N, hack into his servers after the two of you infiltrate. Planes ready, pack up and go. It’ll be a while.”

“Terran-“ “Wait a second!” The two spoke at once, trying their best to squeeze in their complaints and concerns in a last ditch effort.

“Go! Get out of here, you’ve given me a headache in the fifteen minutes you've been around each other. Argue on the plane and annoy the pilot for all I care. Just, don’t kill each other.” The director left quickly, desperate to get away from the ticking time bomb as fast as he could.

———

After the initial wave of disappointment ebbed away, she decided she’d better get to packing and quickly, if she was going to catch the flight. “Move,” She huffed, rolling her eyes at him as he continued to stand in the way of the door. “You move.” He breathed back, shouldering past her as he grabbed the rather weighty accordion file that held all the information about their mission. After briefly turning through a few pages, he glanced up to see that she had already started down the hall. Her strides quick and strong but focused; one of her angry walks. “Wait!” He called, jogging after her until he caught up. “Y’really gonna leave without even looking at it?” He asked in near disbelief, it was very unlike her to not want to know everything.

She turned the corner sharply, leaving Harry to stumble as he missed the turn. After correcting, he stopped at her desk, waiting for his answer as she rummaged through the drawers. Finally, her head snapped up at him as if questioning what he was still doing there. “Well?” Harry repeated while holding the file up, frustrated that she’d completely ignored him. “S’what the fucking plane is for, Harry. Of course m’not spending 2 hours on a plane, then driving another 5 and a half without some reading material.” Oh. Harry kept quiet, grumbling some sort of a ‘whatever’ before going to collect his own belongings to pack up.

••••••

(there’s the sneakerrr, i literally have been having the hardest time NOT thinking about these two because i’ve been in a very argumentative mood, call it the gemini in me but it is what it is)

[confusedgayscreeching]

Hi! It’s been a while lol- I’m gonna try to get back to posting semi-regularly but I make no promises! I am currently feeling very frustrated about the arguments about Stolitz I’m seeing verywhere and I need to rant so here we are!

Okay so one thing I think a lot of people trip up with in analyzing this relationship is comparing them in the way of “who is worse.” To me that’s weird and not a realistic or productive way to talk about out this. They both suck in their own ways and it makes more sense to analyze how they effect each other and themselves rather than arguing over something so subjective, especially since even if we were able to come to a conclusion as a fandom about who is worse (which again is not possible to do objectively) it wouldn’t do anything or move the conversation forward at all.

Blame shifting and villainizing characters because you relate to one more or understand one more might make you feel good but it doesn’t actually contribute to the conversation. They both do fucked up things at different points and they both suck sometimes, but to me it makes more sense and is more interesting to look at how they both effect each other and their psychology, especially because trying to assign morality to any actions in a show like this is redundant and misses the point- looking at it from an outside lens and saying “x is bad so they are bad” doesn’t mean anything within the context of the show or the relationship and it never has.

I know a lot of us love these characters and/or relate heavily to them but starting arguments online because someone suggests your poor little meow meow possibly isn’t perfect is genuinely just dumb and doesn’t move the conversation forward at all, nor does it help us resolve or continue the conversation in a satisfying way.

This show and these characters are fucked up. They’re meant to be fucked up. They do awful things that can’t be justified and that’s just the point. When you make it a competition it doesn’t do anything for anyone and all you end up doing is invalidating other people’s feelings and opinions whether you mean to or not.

We all need to try to be more neutral and just acknowledge why each character might feel a certain way without feeling the need to justify that feeling or make them a martyr. Just like with people in real life a character’s emotions are just their emotions, they don’t need to be justified or have an arguable reason for feeling that way, feelings are valid no matter what, and what matters is how they handle those feelings.

Idk about anyone else but one of the reasons I fell in love with Hazbin hotel and helliva boss is because they’re all awful and irredeemable but they’re still sentient beings who are written in a way that shows they still deserve empathy and love, the show isn’t trying to force these characters to justify their existence by being good and that’s beautiful because the idea that human decency is conditional is far too prevalent.

Idk this will probably seem preachy and long winded but it just feels silly and disingenuous to try to talk about right/wrong with these characters or this show in general, especially considering that it ignores the more emotional inner reasons for why these characters act the way they do, which is so much more interesting to explore.

[seenoversundown]

Amongst The Stars: Chapter Six

Josh x Quinn (Nonbinary OC)

Warnings: Shitty Partner (are you shocked?), Craig is Stupid (and we don’t respect him), Mentions of Alcohol, Verbal fighting, Medieval Nicknames, Pining Friendly Care and Concern for your Friends, Almost being injured with a knife.

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: Josh has always loved love, and he's finally found it. Buuuut, he can't exactly tell anyone. Join him as he navigates the ins and outs of his sweet, secret romance.

Author's Note: This, THIS, is one of the chapters I have been most excited for you all to read. So strap in babies, the story is really getting started now. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. And, as always; our Quinn is a ray of sunlight and Craig is a stinky loser. Alsooooooo — Sorry for any weird formatting issues, I had to post this from my phone because the desktop site wouldn’t let me post 🤨🥲 (I’ll eventually reformat it once the site figures it out)

"But I wish there was somethin' you would do or say To try and make me change my mind and stay" Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right - Bob Dylan

I walk into the apartment and hear Craig banging pots and pans around in the kitchen. He’s mad again. He’s been in a constant state of anger since he found me talking to Josh in the craft store. The anger had been an issue for longer, but it has worsened since that day. He’s been picking random fights over the most minor things. Everything from him not having enough clean socks to my “slamming” the door while he’s trying to nap.

“Hey babe, I’m only here for a little bit. I’m going to stay with Willa tonight. She needs an extra set of hands for a new project,” I yell out, making my way to the bedroom to pack a bag.

I hear Craig stop banging around in the kitchen. I listen, bracing myself for a fight, as he stomps through the apartment behind me.

“Oh yeah? And why can’t she find a different friend to help?” Craig grits out through clenched teeth.

“She could. But she doesn’t want to, and that’s valid.”

“You are always so worried about everyone else but me. And I really don’t think that’s fair to our relationship.”

“What does that even mean?” I’m starting to get angry at this point. All I do, day in and day out, is ensure that our life together runs smoothly. I pick his groceries up. I let him use my car so he can do whatever he does while I’m working to pay our bills.

“I just think it’s interesting that you met that guy from the craft store, and now you hardly want to be in the same room as me.”

“You’re being an asshole because you’re… jealous?” I huff out a humorless chuckle.

“I mean, I guess? You seem to loooove talking to him while I’m stuck here begging to see you in your spare time.” He slams his hand against the door frame. I roll my eyes at his little outburst and continue shoving clothes into my overnight bag.

“Good job, Detective Craig, you caught me! I’m in love with Josh. Head over heels for a man I’ve only spoken with at his job!” I watch his eyes darken with rage as I add a sarcastic round of applause. I’m far too annoyed with him to stop myself from pushing his buttons even more. If he wants to fight, we can fucking fight.

“I uprooted my entire life back home for you, Quinn. I packed up everything I own, threw my entire life in the back of a moving truck, and moved here with you. I did that, and you’re laughing at me?”

“Of course I am laughing at you. You’re being absurd.”

“I’m being absurd?! I didn’t realize it was absurd to want to spend time with your partner.”

“It’s absurd that you’re mad at me over the manager of the store where I get art supplies. It’s absurd that you’re turning this all into a pity party for yourself. It’s absurd that I’ve wasted the last 20 minutes arguing with you when Willa needs my help.”

“It’s absurd that we’re arguing and you’re worried about your friends.”

“I didn’t start the argument, bud. I was content to pack my bag and head out, but you wanted to make it a thing.” I sling my packed bag over my shoulder and walk to the bedroom door as Craig steps in the way to block my path.

“Get out of my way, Craig.”

“If you step outside this house right now, I honestly don’t know where that will leave us.”

“I guess we’ll figure it out later, then.” I duck under his arm and make my way to the front door, grabbing my keys and storming out the door.

I hop in my car and text Willa, letting her know I am on my way. I spent the short drive contemplating the state of my relationship with Craig. Where does he get off acting like I am the problem here? I spend almost every waking moment doing things for him. I do his laundry; I cook his meals; I don’t even care that he doesn’t have a job. I let so much of his bullshit slide. But he treats me like I’m doing something wrong because I want to hang out with my friends. Because I talk to a guy who works at the craft store? When it gets down to it, our relationship isn’t working right now. But, then again, it hasn’t been working for a while. The Josh Thing is just the icing on top of the cake. He has always been jealous and suspicious of me leaning on people besides him. He still sometimes questions my closeness with Willa. He knows we have been best friends for years, way longer than I've known him, yet he is still suspicious.

I slam my car in park once I’m outside of Willa’s apartment complex. I take a few moments to collect myself. I know that it won’t matter, though. I am rarely sad or upset, but when I am, Willa can sniff it out like a bloodhound. She’s always had the unique ability to see directly through me, which is why we’re so close. I walk up to her front door and unlock it with the spare key she gave me the first day she moved in. When I open the door, I am immediately hit with the scent of Willa’s signature sage and citrus candle. I swear she has one burning 24/7, and, at this point, her emotional support candle is becoming mine. I immediately feel myself calm down as I breathe it in.

“Honey, I’m home!” I yell out, setting my bag down in the foyer.

“In the Kitchen!”

I step through the apartment, making my way to the kitchen. I stop in the living room to survey the Throw Pillow situation. Willa thrives in a comfortable space, so I swear there’s at least one new pillow every time I drop by. I stop at her gallery wall next. I let out a soft chuckle, remembering the time that she asked if she wanted me to alter any of the photos from before I came out. “I can photoshop your head or something, but I look good; I can’t just take them down”

This was always her excuse, but it’s because those photos were from easier times. They held a sense of nostalgia for both of us, and neither one of us wanted them taken down. They were photos from our time in college. They were from well before Craig blew into my life, causing issues between Willa and me. It does warm my heart knowing that I still hold so much space on her gallery wall, even after the small wedge he’s driven between us.

I finally walk into the kitchen and see her standing before her table. There is an explosion of flowers surrounding various crystals laid across the table. On the floor next to her, there’s a box of other witchy-looking supplies

“What are you working on tonight?”

“Freelance gig for that new occult shop, Garden’s Gate. They asked if I’d photograph products for their website.” She glances up and hands me a large, white piece of cardboard.

“I need your help nailing this lighting real quick. I’m trying to go for a more whimsigoth feel, but the lighting is too harsh without the bounce board.” I nod my head and pretend I understand what I’m doing. Photography was never my forte.

“And don’t think I’ll forget that look on your face. We will be discussing whatever Craig did once I have this shot.” She quirks an eyebrow at me, then directs me to hold the bounce board in front of her lighting rig. After Willa finishes the product shoot, she finally looks at me. I heave out a sigh, not ready to have this conversation and sit down at the kitchen table. She heads to the fridge and pulls out two hard ciders. Cracking them both open, she sits across from me at the table.

“So, spill.” She says softly.

“Craig and I might be done. I was so mean to him when I got home…” I trail off, hoping she won’t make me spill all the dirty details.

“Mhm…” She waves her hand, motioning for me to continue.

I suck in a deep breath and begin recounting the events of the evening. I try to avoid eye contact with Willa throughout my spiel. Instead, I focus on peeling the label off of my bottle. I avoid eye contact because I already know how she looks at me. Anger in her eyes, a bit of pity. I don’t need pity; I know the situation is messed up. When I finish, I finally look up and meet her eyes across the table.

“Quinn, you know you can’t let him treat you that way, right?” She questions softly, as if trying to lessen the blow of what I already know.

“I know, but I was horrible right back at him tonight.”

“You were horrible to him because he has been horrible to you, and you hit your breaking point. Anyone would do the same. Hell, I’ve acted way worse for way less reason,“she begins to laugh at herself, “Actually, on second thought, I’m not the greatest barometer for anger management.”

I bark out a laugh with her. She’s not wrong; she has one of the shortest and most explosive fuses I’ve ever seen on a person.

“That’s all besides the point. What you need to consider is, yeah, you were horrible to Craig. But, the way you spoke to him doesn’t reflect who you are as a person, and he brought that out in you.”

I’m quiet for a second as I mull everything over. Craig did give up so much for me, for us. But I don't think I can continue living like this. I don’t like the person I was with him tonight. I don’t like that he has the ability to bring that out in me. I don’t appreciate the jealousy that he harbors. That jealousy has led to so much distrust between us throughout the years.

“I have to break up with him,” I sigh, “This hasn’t been working, and I don’t see it getting better any time soon. Especially if he’s gonna throw Josh in my face.”

“I’m not agreeing with him, but you have been talking about Josh a lot. Got anything else you want to share?” Willa looks at me, eyes alight with mischief.

I groan, rubbing my hands down my face.

“Not you, too. Josh is an acquaintance. I’ve seen him once outside of the craft store, and it was by accident.”

“Whatever you say, babes!” She laughs before continuing, “But really, if you doooo break up with Craig… I’ve been thinking about getting a roommate.”

“It can be like college! No pesky boys stirring up trouble, just us hanging out.”

“I do like the sound of that, Quinny.”

I wake up early the following day, feelings weighing heavily on my chest. It’s a strange mixture of excitement and dread. The excitement makes me feel worse; I am about to ruin my long-term partner’s day. I should not feel giddy in any sense, and yet. I stretch my limbs as I stand up from the couch and begin my trek to the kitchen for something to drink.

“Good morning!” Willa startles me as I turn into the kitchen. She shoves a freshly poured cup of coffee into my hands.

“‘Morning, Wills,” I grunt as I take a sip from my mug. Of course, Willa made it just how I like it: 2 sugars and a bit of oat milk. I close my eyes and feel the caffeine coursing through my bloodstream, waking my brain.

“Are we making boys cry today?” Willa asks, with a bit too much glee for the hour.

“Please, try to sound at least a little bit upset about the disintegration of my relationship.”

“Are we making boys cry today?” She tries again, this time adding an exaggerated frown.

“I am making a boy cry today. You are welcome to tag along and sit in the car.”

She rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at me, “You’re no fun!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna get dressed, and you ought to do the same if you want to come.”

—————————————————

Willa and I pass the time on the drive over to my apartment by figuring out what I am going to tell Craig. We both know that this will not end happily. Craig will turn it into a situation just like he does everything else. This is why I ultimately decided to allow Willa to come up with me. There is strength in numbers, and Craig is less likely to cause a scene or do something entirely inappropriate if there is a witness. We trudge up the stairs to the second-floor apartment I share with Craig, and I turn to face Willa before unlocking the door.

Willa pulls me into a bear hug, “I know this seems complicated, but you're doing the right thing. I am so proud of you.”

I choke up a bit, then lean deeper into the hug. “Thank you.”

We stand like that for a moment, sharing each other's love and energy, before I turn back and unlock the door. It's quiet as we enter the house. I walk into the living room to find Craig passed out on the couch with his Xbox controller and several empty beer bottles strewn haphazardly around him. God, it's a good thing Willa decided to come in with me. He can be an absolute toad when he’s hungover. Though, I guess that shouldn't be shocking, considering he is a toad 75% of the time now.

“Hey, can you head to my room and start packing some of my stuff while I deal with this?” I ask in a hushed voice.

Even if Craig deserves to be woken up, I don't want Willa to face any of his ire.

“Sure thing, Quinny. Is there anything you want in particular?”

“Just clothes for a few days until I can secure a truck to move the rest of it, I guess.”

As she retreats further into the apartment, I walk over to the couch. I can't help the feelings of disgust that wash over me, seeing Craig in this state. Typically, I wouldn't care about this; everyone has a rough night every now and then. However, Craig’s lousy night was of his own making. He chose this, so he gets no sympathy from me— no sympathy as I turn the bright overhead lights on. Not an ounce of pity from me as I connect to our Bluetooth speaker and begin blasting some generic Top 40 pop at full volume. Absolutely no compassion as I bring the trash can from the kitchen into the living room and start forcefully throwing his spent bottles into it. Content with my somewhat dramatic display, I glance at Craig and see him stirring. He cracks one eyeball open and levels me with a glare.

“Can you shut that shit off?” he growls at me.

“Oh good! You’re up,” I innocently bat my eyes at him, “I think we need to have a conversation, dear.”

“What on earth could we have to talk about at —” he cuts himself off to check the time, “7:30 in the fucking morning?”

Before I can answer, a big thump followed by a pained howl sounds from our bedroom.

“What was that?” Craig narrows his eyes at me.

I shrug, unwilling to give up Willa’s spot so soon. The likelihood of Craig actually getting up to check in his current state is extremely low.

“What. Was. That?!” He grits out more forcefully, finally sitting up.

Before I have time to shrug again, Willa pops her head out of the bedroom and shoots me a smug wink. I brace myself, knowing that whatever she’s about to say is guaranteed to piss him off.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Greg… it's just little old me.”

I struggle to hold in a slight chuckle, watching as realization dawns on Craig’s face. He whips his head around to catch a glimpse of Willa’s shit-eating grin before she “disappears” back into the room. I know she’s standing just out of sight but still close enough to eavesdrop.

“What are you doing in my house, Willa?” he yells after her.

“I dunno pal, why don't you ask Quinny?” she sing-songs back at him, riling him up even more.

Craig lets out an exasperated sigh, “Quinn. You said we need to talk?”

I nod my head.

“K, so start talking.”

I close my eyes and suck in a deep, grounding breath.

“Willa is here because she is helping me pack some of my things up.” I raise my eyebrows at him, silently begging him to get the point.

“Uh… why are you doing that?”

“Because I’m moving out, Craig.” He meets my eyes with a look of confusion.

He truly never was the smartest, but I was hoping he’d be able to put two and two together. Unfortunately not.

“I’m breaking up with you,” I spit out quickly, “and I am moving in with Willa,” I add more pointedly.

I can see the wheels finally start turning in his head.

“You’re breaking up with me… for Willa?”

Willa lets out an unhinged cackle from the bedroom, and I hear her muffled voice say something that sounds a lot like “moron.” My patience is hanging on by a thread at this point, but I continue.

“No, Craig. I’m breaking up with you because you drive me insane. You constantly pick fights with me, you’re jealous, you turn me into someone I’m not.” I take a breath, proud of myself for working up the courage to be direct. “That fight we had last night was my final straw. You told me that if I went to Willa’s, you didn't know where that would leave us. Well, I do know where that leaves us. We’re done.”

“You don't get to make this choice for us.”

Willa pops back out of the room, “Yeah, they do, asshole!”

“Stay out of this,” Craig warns.

“Or what? We all know you'll keep yourself planted right where you're at. You’re not going to stop me from talking, you're not going to stop Quinn from ending this, and you're certainly not going to stop us from walking out the door once I’m done in here!”

In this moment, I am once again reminded of the sheer love and respect I have for Willa. She has been there for me, and she makes it a point to prove that she will continue to be there for me. It dawns on me that this is the type of care and respect I deserve in all of my relationships, and I won't accept anything less from now on.

“Hey,” I snap my fingers to get Craig’s attention, “we are having a conversation, not you and Willa.”

“B-but! She! She started it,” Craig sputters out.

“Doesn’t matter. The point is - did you see what just happened? Where Willa came to my defense? You don’t do that; you never have, and I’m over it! I deserve to be treated like a PARTNER, like a HUMAN. And instead, you treat me like some robot maid! You only care about your quality of life, and mine comes second. I’m tired of not being first in your mind because you have ALWAYS been first in mine.” My voice cracks. I don't want to cry, but I can feel it coming.

“You can’t leave me. How am I supposed to pay for the apartment on my own?”

Absolute blind rage courses through me, overtaking the tears that were threatening to fall, as I lunge for one of the throw pillows he must have knocked onto the floor in his drunken state last night. I clutch it tight to my chest for a second, begging my anger to subside.

“Did you hear me, Quinn? Or do you just not care?”

I finally snap. I rear my arm and full-force chuck the pillow at his head, watching his arms flail as he tries to catch it. He fails, and it hits its mark with a satisfying slap.

“No, CRAIG, I don't care,” I hold up a hand and begin counting his options off on my fingers,” Get a job… get a roommate… crawl back home to your mother. The choice is yours! Leave me out of it.”

Willa clears her throat and stands beside me, grabbing my hand.

“Ready to go?” She asks gently, sensing that I’m about to break. I nod my head, and she begins pulling me toward the front door. As we head out the door, I turn back to look at Craig, “I’ll reach out when I’m ready to pick up the rest of my stuff.”

—————————————————

Willa graciously carries my bag into the - our - apartment and sets it in the spare room. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest.

“Thank you, madam!” I say in my best Knight impression

“Of course, my liege,” she curtseys, “I’m just happy to have you here, Quinny.”

I pull her in for another quick hug to show my appreciation without having to vocalize it. My emotional battery is almost depleted after my conversation with Craig. When I pull back, I see the devious smirk on Willa’s face, and I know she’s going to bring up The Pillow Incident that she absolutely watched from the corner before getting me out of there.

“Can we talk about what a little badass you are? THE PILLOW? I didn't think you had it in you!” She lets out a little giggle.

“Honestly, not one of my finest moments. But it seemed to get the point through his thick skull.”

“Oh, don't sell yourself short. I think it was a wonderful moment. Fucker had it coming. He’s lucky it was from you, not me.”

I check the time, ignoring her dramatics.

“Do you want brunch? I’ll cook since I’m sure your guard dog duties wore you out.”

“Oh! A lovely idea. I’ll run out and grab stuff for mimosas?”

“Day drinking almost sounds better than brunch if I can be honest.” I chuckle and head into the kitchen as Willa makes her way out the door.

I pop in my headphones and start cooking. I let myself get lost in the monotony of cutting vegetables and cracking eggs.

As I’m chopping away, I find my thoughts wandering back to Josh. My little sunshine incarnate friend from the craft store. The one who listens when I speak. The one who cares and asks me about the projects I’m working on. The one who takes 3 seconds to ask me how my week has been. The poor guy who doesn’t even know he was the final straw in my relationship cracking apart. Not that it’s his fault that Craig doesn’t understand how friendships work. Part of me wishes I had some excuse to go see him. As helpful as Willa is, she’s been anti-Craig since before we even made our relationship official and can hardly go a moment without insulting him. Which is understandable, but that same part of me that wants to make an excuse to go to see him also knows that Josh would be able to soothe me in a way she can’t. That part of me knows that seeing his stupid little dimpled smile would cheer me up. The knife clatters out of my hand when I run that back in my head and realize what I’ve been thinking about.

Willa pops up behind me at the counter, “Careful, butterfingers. Don’t wanna have to drive you to the ER.”

“Jesus CHRIST, Willa,” I shriek, slapping my clean hand to my chest, “When did you get back?”

“Five or so minutes ago, you’ve just been in your own little world, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

I feel a blush creep to the tops of my cheeks. Had I really been that lost in thought about Josh?

“Well, now that you’ve nearly given me a heart attack, do you think you could make me a mimosa? Omelets will be up in about 15.”

“Anything for you, my dear!”

As I place my pan on the stove and begin heating it, I vow to stop thinking about Stock Boy for the rest of the day. After all, Willa is right. With the day I’ve already had, the last thing I need is a trip to the ER.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

ATS Masterpost | The Caravel Tavern Series | Masterlist

Reply or Fill out this form to be added to the taglist:Taglist:@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @imleavingyoufornewyork @mindastreamofcolours @dont-go-home-without-me @literal-dead-leaf @mackalah @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @takenbythemadness @i-love-gvf @threadofstars @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf @gretavanfan @jazzyfigz @musicspeaks @demonrat444 @josh-iamyour-mama @wrldabomination @imleavingyoufornewyork@gvf-luna @lilbitx @gvfstuddedmajesty

[wish-i-were-heather]

i just need to vent ignore this pls

oh my GOODNESSCAN YOU JUST ADMIT YOURE WRONG AUGH HOW HARD IS IT??? I DIDNT FUCKING DO ANYTHING!!! im sorry i fucking misunderstood you, its not worth any argument. its the STUPIDEST ARGUMENT LITERALLY WHY ARE YOU MAD??? she said to try on the dress, so i tried on the dress. then she says its the wrong one. okay, fine, my mistake. no problem. apparently there is a problem because "didnt you hear me tell you the other one we ordered arrived?" NO I CLEARLY DIDNT OTHERWISE I WOULDVE PUT THAT ONE ON? so its like ok fine ill put on the other its no big deal. but apparently i used the wrong fucking tone? what tone am i supposed to use i just talked normally. and i do like the dress i fucking do i like the dress damn why are you so pressed about it. "if you dont like it why did you buy it then its a waste" I LIKE THE FUCKING DRESS SHUT TF UP. and then apparently when he agrees that i didnt use a tone, "doesnt the tone she's using sound just like a meltdown? do you not hear it? NO HE DOESNT HEAR IT OBVIOUSLY THERES NO FUCKING TONE TO HEAR OMG ITS LITERALLY NOT A PROBLEM THERES NO NEED TO ARGUE I TRIED ON THE WRONG FUCKING DRESS LET IT GO. but apparently fucking not so im like oh sorry i didnt know wheres the dress im supposed to wear and she fucking goes "ill show you" in the most demeaning, slow, talking to someone whos overracting type of tone. like excuse me? all i did was ask a question? im not doing anything? so then i just respond "okay" in the same fucking tone. and when she hears that tone now she gets mad? yeah its not very fun to hear is it huh. and then shes like "oh nevermind we dont have to try it on well do it later" AND WALKS AWAY LIKE BITCH THIS WAS YOUR IDEA DO YOU WANT ME TO WEAR IT OR NOT? how can you give me this stupid ass attitude, say i have attitude, then walk away like im the dramatic overreacter here?

then she decides to just leave. fully leave. like i go into my room thinking we're done because i wasnt even that mad she was the one who was pissed. and then she knocks on the door (wow i didnt know she could do that she always just opens it) and is like uh where r u? and im like im in here and apparently that upsets her that im not trying on the dress that i didnt fucking know existed until five minutes ago and she just WALKS AWAY?? JUST SAYS WHATEVER AND FULLLY LEAVES. GOES OUTSIDE TO TAKE A WALK? HELLO? YOU CANT JUST LEAVE AN ARGUMENT WHEN YOURE LOOSING??? YOU CANT JUST WALK THE FUCK AWAY??

so then later i feel fine im not mad anymore i left that post with a bunch of tags complaining. and then i go to say goodnight and shes all stiff and he tells me shes still mad. and then she decides to talk about how shes "invisible and it feels like everyone is ignoring her and invalidating her emotions and stuff" LIKE LITERALLY WHO DID THAT? WHERE- WHAT? WHO??? like she doesnt know how to admit shes wrong its actually a problem. sometimes youre wrong and sometimes you have to be the bigger person. but no she has the emotional maturity of a five year old and decides to just sit there and cross her arms and not fucking talk as we both try to apologize??? and neither of us even know what we did wrong. and then SHE TRIES TO TURN IT AROUND AND "APOLOGIZES" AND IS LIKE OH IM WRONG ITS FINE WHATEVER. LIKE NO LETS TALK ABOUT THIS BUT SHE DOESNT WANT TO?? HELLO? normally the morning after an argument ill go and apologize because ill be wrong but this time i dont even know what to say because im not even doing anything wrong. shes the one who got mad at me for a simple fucking misunderstanding. all because i put on the wrong dress?? oh my goodness its not that deep at all just apologize and move on.

and the worst part is i was crying. i started crying. i was crying. during this whole damn argument. and i couldnt get words out bc my fucking throat was all weird. and i sounded rediculous. its fucking humiliating. i was trying to tell her like im not sad im not upset but she just gave me this nasty ass glare so i guess im the problem and im still overreacting.

THIS IS THE STUPIDEST ARGUMENT ANYONES EVER HAD OH MY GOODNESS LITERALLY JUST BECAUSE I MISUNDERSTOOD WHEN YOU SAID "THE DRESS ARRIVED AND I WANT YOU TO TRY IT ON." like im not even that important at all its not worth it. like oh my goodness just say youre wrong and move on. but the problem is she cant apologize and say shes wrong without playing the victim and "omg you guys dont even care im just invisible im being ignored your invalidating me" NO WERE NOT STOP TALKING

whatever its fine i guess. shes still important to me. i love her. shes just an only child and i really think it shows in the way she argues.

this is stupid. what a way to end the night with me crying because i accidentally used the wrong tone apparently and "had a meltdown" by litreally just explaining a simple misunderstanding.

but i can listen to short and sweet tomorrow!! i was gonna tonight but my nights fucking ruined :)

if you for some reason decided to read this, no you didnt