#dont tell us if you disagree we are always right

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (05)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 9.4k

Aliyah's Notes: i have two exams in five years and i still haven't slept, so if u notice any mistakes pls ignore them. i'll fix them when i have time, and yes a scene is inspired by the maddest obsession BUT ANYW AHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! THIS CHAPTER IS INSANE AND PLS DONT SCREAM AT ME FOR THE ENDING LIKE IM SO SORRY BUT IT HAD TO BE DONE

“Hey, you want to know something?” Sarah said, approaching you as you sat quietly at a table, lost in thought. Beside her, two girls: one had mid-length brown curls and sun-kissed blonde highlights, gave you a friendly grin, her energy light and approachable. The other had wavy, jet-black hair that framed her face, her features both sharp and effortlessly beautiful. They were stunning, you thought, in a way that felt both comforting and a little intimidating. “I never liked her. Even back when she and my brother were together, I never got along with Chiara.”

The girl with the highlighted curls nodded, sliding into the seat next to you. “Same here. There’s always been something... off about her,” she agreed, scrunching her nose in a way that made you smile. “Oh! I’m Kiara, by the way,” she added quickly. “Different spelling than Chiara, but I promise we’re nothing alike.”

The girl with the wavy black hair gave a little wave as she took the seat across from you, her smile warm and easy. “And I’m Cleo,” she introduced herself with a slight accent. “Can’t say I disagree with Sarah and Kie here. Chiara’s just... kind of a staple at these things. She’s always been around, so the guys still invite her out of habit.”

“And if they didn’t, she’d probably throw a tantrum,” Sarah added, rolling her eyes in exasperation. 

You felt a warmth creeping into your cheeks as you looked at the three of them, surprised by how welcoming they were. “Thanks, girls. I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said shyly, offering a small smile. 

“Girl, we know who you are,” Cleo came to sit on your side and nudged you softly. “But don’t worry, you’re part of the group now—Chiara who?” she joked, making you all laugh.

You cleared your throat, glancing between the three girls who were deep in conversation. The question had been sitting heavy on your mind since the moment you met Chiara. “So… Rafe and her—did they used to date?”

The girls exchanged a look, the brief silence almost uncomfortable. It was as if they were weighing their words, deciding what to say or what to hold back. Their reluctance only made you want answers more. Who was Chiara to Rafe, really?

Finally, Sarah glanced away, a frown crossing her face. “It’s… complicated.”

You couldn’t help but lean in, unable to stop the curiosity stirring in your chest. “How complicated?” you pressed. “Were they exes? Friends with benefits? Did they break up right before Rafe and I got together? Or was it just her holding on to a crush he never—”

Kiara gently placed a hand over yours, her eyes warm and understanding. “Y/N, it’s okay. You don’t have to overthink it, alright?”

You sighed, the uncertainty making your stomach twist. “I just wish I knew what they are—or were—to each other. Rafe hasn’t said a word about her. Not a thing.”

Cleo gave you a sympathetic look, and Sarah hesitated, biting her lip as though weighing whether to say more. Finally, she began, “Wait, so he really didn’t tell you about what they—”

But Sarah’s words were cut off abruptly as Rafe’s voice broke through the noise of the party. “Sweetheart, can we talk?”

The girls turned toward him, their expressions ranging from surprise to mild disgust.

Kiara shot him a skeptical look, brows raised. “Who did he just call ‘sweetheart’?”

Cleo’s eyes widened as she put her hands up in mock innocence. “Definitely not me.”

Sarah shook her head, holding back a laugh. “Don’t look at me. My brother’s never called me any nickname. So, nope, not me either.”

Their eyes turned back to you, and it clicked. Rafe’s gaze was fixed on you, his face serious, almost imploring. You fidgeted with your hands, glancing over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Chiara. She was a few steps away, engrossed in a conversation with JJ, yet her eyes were unmistakably trained on you and Rafe. Her expression was unreadable, something between irritation and curiosity, and the ambiguity of it only frustrated you more.

Rafe’s voice softened, his eyes searching yours. “Y/N, let’s go. Please?”

“I’m serious about her, Chiara,” was what Rafe replied earlier, his voice firm but before you could register the words, Chiara grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the garden without so much as a second glance in your direction, leaving you alone in the middle of the party—feeling like a complete idiot.

You weren’t sure how to feel about Rafe’s words. It was exactly what you’d hoped to hear, but his delivery had been off, and the way he left with her immediately afterward left a sour taste. You remember watching them through the windows. Their conversation looked intense. Chiara’s hands moved wildly, gesturing with a frustration that seemed matched by Rafe, who kept sighing and tossing his arms up in exasperation. Whatever they discussed, it was clearly charged.

But now, Rafe was standing in front of you, his expression unreadable as he asked to talk. About what? You didn’t know. Maybe he’d finally explain who Chiara was to him or put to rest the suspicion twisting in your gut, though you doubted he would. Instead of lingering on the countless possibilities, you took a steadying breath, nodded, and followed him outside.

The night air was cool, a stark contrast to the party’s warmth, and you found yourself standing on the porch beside him, facing the quiet street. For a moment, silence fell between you, thick and awkward, as if neither of you knew where to begin. He glanced at you and you felt a flicker of anticipation mixed with unease, wondering what he’d say—if he’d finally give you the answers you were looking for.

Rafe leaned against the porch railing, arms folded, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder. “Look... Chiara just… she doesn’t handle change well,” he said, his tone flat, almost dismissive. “She’s just… used to things being a certain way. She's dramatic."

You crossed your arms, holding back the questions building up. “Right. So, she drags you outside because she’s feeling… what? Dramatic?”

He glanced at you, then quickly looked away, jaw tightening. “It’s not like that,” he said, his voice clipped. “She’s… she’s just not used to seeing me with someone else.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your tone light. “Oh, so I’m the problem?”

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “No, it’s not you. It’s…” He paused, as if weighing how much he wanted to say. “She just thinks… I don’t know, she has her own ideas about things. She probably assumed things were the way they used to be.”

You frowned. “Used to be?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, and when Rafe didn’t answer right away, you continued. “So, you two were… what? Together?”

He shook his head. “Not exactly. Things just... overlapped for a while. It was just… a thing. A long time ago.”

Your patience was wearing thin. “And by ‘a long time ago,’ you mean… what? Last week? Last month?”

Rafe exhaled sharply, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Shit, why does it matter? Whatever it was, it’s over, alright? I didn’t think I had to spell it out for you.”

“Maybe you do need to,” you shot back, feeling your cheeks heat. “I think I deserve to know when I’m about to walk into a situation where some girl is going to pull you away and act like I’m the one intruding.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and he leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing. “She’s not just ‘some girl.’ She’s… someone I’ve known for a while. And she’s… complicated. Okay?”

“Right. ‘Complicated.’” You let the word hang in the air, dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure it’s just so complicated that you couldn’t even bother to tell me about her before dragging me into this.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “It’s not like that. I just… I didn’t think she’d show up here. I didn’t think it would matter.”

You shook your head, folding your arms tighter around yourself. “Well, maybe it does matter, Rafe. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she has some claim on you.”

"What?" Rafe’s eyes flashed with irritation, and he straightened up, clearly done with the conversation. “Look, she doesn’t have a fucking ‘claim’ on me. It’s nothing. Just… drop it.”

The bluntness of his words stung, and you took a steadying breath, keeping your voice as even as possible. “Fine,” you said coolly, shrugging as if you weren’t affected. “But you might want to let her know that.”

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath before his gaze met yours again. “You’re overthinking it. She’s… she’s just used to being a part of my life, and now things are different. She’ll deal with it.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. “Funny, because from where I was standing, it didn’t look like she was planning to just ‘deal with it.’ It looked like she was… I don’t know, trying to stake her territory or something.”

Rafe sighed, looking away again. “That’s just how she is. She’s always… been intense. Doesn’t mean anything.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, feeling a mix of frustration and something uncomfortably close to jealousy. “So, I’m just supposed to ignore it? Pretend she didn’t pull you, my boyfriend, outside to… to lecture you about me?”

“Exactly,” he replied, his tone abrupt. “It’s just noise. Don’t pay her any mind.”

The simplicity of his response only fueled your irritation. “Right. Because I should just… ignore all of this and act like nothing’s wrong.”

“Look, I didn’t ask her to make a scene,” he said, his voice sharper now. “And I didn’t think she’d come here tonight. She just… showed up, okay?”

You paused, studying his expression, which was a mixture of defensiveness and something else you couldn’t quite place. “So, what’s the story with her?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual, though you knew it was anything but.

Rafe let out a frustrated breath. “There’s no ‘story,’ alright? She’s just… she was around for a while, that’s it. We had… an understanding.”

You raised an eyebrow, the vagueness of his answer only adding to your frustration. “An understanding,” you repeated slowly, crossing your arms tighter. “Well, it seems like she didn’t quite get the memo that whatever ‘understanding’ you had is over.”

He shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward the house as if hoping someone would interrupt. “She’ll get over it. I just didn’t expect her to… make it a whole thing.”

“Maybe she made it a whole thing because you haven’t made it clear to her that it’s… nothing,” you said, emphasizing his own words back to him.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Why are you making this such a big deal? It’s not like we're actually together. This—" he said, moving his fingers between you two "—is fake, in case you forgot.”

“Oh, right, because it’s so normal for the girl you used to have… whatever with to show up at a party and act like I’m the one intruding.” You shook your head, exasperated. “Forgive me for wanting to understand the situation.”

He shrugged, still not meeting your eyes. “It’s just… old history. Not worth bringing up.”

“Then maybe you should have thought of that before dragging me into this,” you shot back, your voice laced with frustration.

He finally met your gaze, his jaw set. “Dragging you into what? It’s not like I invited her here.”

You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. “Did you invite me here to watch your past blow up in front of us?”

Rafe let out a bitter laugh. “This is what I get for trying to bring you around my friends. Next time, I’ll keep it strictly professional. How’s that?”

You felt a pang of hurt, but you masked it with a tight smile. “Perfect. I’ll remember that for next time, Rafe.” You turned away, taking a few steps back toward the house, hoping he’d get the hint that you were done.

But Rafe’s hand closed gently around your wrist, stopping you. “Wait.” His voice was low, reluctant, but there was a softness there you hadn’t expected.

You turned, catching his gaze, which had softened just slightly. “What?”

He hesitated, then let go of your wrist, his fingers lingering just a moment longer. “I just… I didn’t expect her to react this way. I thought… things were clear between us.”

“Clearly, they’re not,” you replied, unable to keep the edge from your tone.

Rafe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll try to talk to her, alright? Make sure she understands. But can we just… leave it here?”

You watched him, seeing the frustration, the tension in his shoulders, and you knew he wasn’t about to tell you any more than he already had. So, instead of pushing it further, you forced a casual shrug. “Fine. Whatever. It’s none of my business anyway, right?”

A flicker of something passed across his face—surprise, maybe, or regret. “Right. It’s not,” he said, though his voice was quieter, as if the words didn’t sit right with him.

You nodded, biting back the urge to say anything more. “Great. Glad we’re on the same page.”

An awkward silence settled between you, the tension thick and unresolved. Rafe shifted, glancing toward the house. “We should get back. People will start talking if we’re both out here too long.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” The sarcasm was sharp, but you didn’t care; you were too irritated to soften it.

He shot you a look, somewhere between exasperation and apology, but said nothing as he turned to head back inside. You followed a few paces behind, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you, every unanswered question lingering like a shadow.

Before reaching the door, Rafe paused, his hand resting on the doorknob as he glanced back at you. “Listen…” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “It’s… just a lot, okay? Give me some time. I’ll sort it out.”

You held his gaze, unsure whether to believe him, but you nodded once. “Fine. But make it clear, Rafe. I’m not here to play second fiddle to some girl from your past. My life is on the line and I don't have time to worry about this sort of thing.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he was about to say, he swallowed back. Instead, he gave a tight nod and pushed open the door, slipping back into the noise and light of the party. You followed him and plastered on a fake smile while wondering if you’d ever get the truth out of him.

For the next hour, you put on a mask, pretending everything was fine—like nothing happened. But no matter how hard you tried to push the thoughts away, they lingered, clouding every moment. What was Rafe and Chiara’s relationship? You forced yourself to focus on the laughter, the music, and the warmth of the people around you, determined to enjoy the night with Rafe’s friends. Yet every so often, your mind drifted back to Chiara and Rafe, leaving an uncomfortable knot in your stomach.

Rafe took you around the room, introducing you to his teammates: Topper Thornton, Kelce Miller, JJ Maybank, Pope Heyward, and John B Routledge. They each greeted you with a friendly smile and a welcoming vibe. You found yourself particularly drawn to Topper's lighthearted humor and Pope's quiet charm, making it a bit easier to relax. But it was the girls who truly helped lift your spirits. Their energy was infectious, and you quickly found yourself laughing and swapping stories as if you’d known them forever.

Just as you were in the middle of an animated conversation, you heard someone call out, "Miss supermodel!" You turned to see Topper staggering toward you with a mischievous grin, clearly several drinks deep. “Come drink with us! You haven’t had a single sip all night!”

You couldn’t help but smile as he swayed slightly, holding up a red cup with a challenging look. He finally came in front of you and you had to shake your head. “I’m sorry, Topper. I can’t drink tonight. I’m on contract.”

He whined and threw his head back. “Why? A little sip won’t hurt you, right? Come on, please.”

You laughed, shaking your hands as he pouted dramatically, swaying slightly. “Topper, you’re wasted! I think you’ve had enough for both of us.”

He held his heart in mock offense. “Oh, come on! Just one tiny sip!” He held out the cup, swirling it a little as if to tempt you. “Look, it’s just tequila! You can handle tequila, right?”

You hesitated, glancing down at the cup and then back at his hopeful face. “I really shouldn’t… If anyone from the agency finds out, I’m in trouble.”

“Who’s gonna know? It’s just us here, right?” He looked around, grinning mischievously. “Your secret’s safe with me. And, hey, you can’t just let me be the only one embarrassing myself tonight.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully. “Alright, one sip. But that’s it, okay?”

Topper’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Yes! That’s all I’m asking for.” He held out the cup, his face eager with anticipation.

You took the cup from him, feeling the weight of all the eyes on you as his friends turned to watch, clearly amused by the scene. Raising the cup to your lips, you took a big sip, the tequila burning as it went down. You scrunched your nose at the taste, earning a round of cheers from Topper and the girls.

“There we go! Wasn’t so bad, was it?” he laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Awful,” you teased, wiping your lips. “But now you can’t say I didn’t drink with you.”

Topper gave you a victorious grin. “I knew you’d come through! You’re practically one of us now.”

You should’ve known.

Less than an hour later, you were stumbling across the living room, thoroughly tipsy and clinging to Kiara, who was somehow even more drunk than you. The two of you were giggling uncontrollably, reduced to hysterics over the silliest things—the pretzels shaped like animals, the crooked painting on the wall. Every little thing was hilarious, and the alcohol only seemed to amplify your laughter and loosen your inhibitions.

Lost in your little bubble, you didn’t notice Rafe watching from across the room, his gaze sharp and unblinking as he kept tabs on you. He hadn’t seen you like this before—free-spirited, a little reckless, and definitely wilder than he was used to. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched you shout out something along the lines of, “Everyone should just strip already!” before lifting the hem of your top, ready to make good on your words.

That was Rafe’s cue. In a flash, he crossed the room, slipping his hands over yours before you could pull your shirt over your head. His touch was firm, grounding, a stark contrast to the chaos around you. "Whoa there," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, but his eyes were warm, almost protective.

You blinked up at Rafe, a goofy grin plastered across your face as you realized he was standing right in front of you. The room spun just a little, but his steady hands on yours felt oddly comforting.

“Rafe!” you slurred, beaming as though you hadn’t seen him in days. “Fuck! Isn’t it, like, super hot in here?”

Rafe smirked, shaking his head. “I think that’s just the tequila talking, baby,” he replied, steadying you as you swayed. His fingers stayed wrapped around yours, almost possessive, but he didn’t let go.

You pouted, glancing around at the half-dressed friends who were now laughing at your enthusiastic outburst. “Fine, but I was just trying to help everyone loosen up, you know?”

“Oh, trust me, you’ve definitely loosened up,” he chuckled, his eyes scanning you, both entertained and slightly exasperated. “Maybe… a little too much.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a playful whisper, “You know you enjoy it.”

Rafe’s gaze softened, but there was something else there, too—like he was seeing a side of you he hadn’t before. “Maybe I do,” he replied, his voice low, almost as if the words had slipped out unintentionally. He cleared his throat, his grip tightening on your hands. “But I also love it when you’re not stripping in front of half my team.”

You giggled, reaching up to playfully ruffle his hair. “Aww, big, tough Rafe is jealous I haven’t stripped to him first, is that it?”

Just then, Kiara stumbled over, clearly in search of more entertainment. “Hey! Let’s play a game, everyone!” 

Rafe sighed. “Alright, I think that’s our cue to leave,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he looked back at you.

You tugged on Rafe’s arm, leaning into him with a dramatic pout. “Nooooo… let’s play the game, and then we can go,” you insisted.

“Y/N, you’re beyond wasted,” he said, arching an eyebrow in disbelief. “I doubt you’ll even be able to play the game right.”

“I am not drunk,” you protested, crossing your arms defiantly. The words slurred just slightly, giving you away. Rafe’s skeptical look only deepened. “I’m just a little tipsy,” you amended quickly, giving him a grin. “Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill.”

He hesitated, watching you with a mixture of amusement and concern. For a moment, he seemed ready to argue, but as you flashed him your brightest, most convincing smile, he sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Fine,” he muttered, finally giving in.

You joined everyone on the floor, settling into a circle with a bottle of vodka at the center and shot glasses placed around. The music was turned down, but the room’s energy buzzed with anticipation. You found yourself between Rafe on your left and Sarah on your right. Across from you were Pope, Cleo, John B, and Chiara, each giving you encouraging grins or a raised brow.

Kiara took charge with a gleeful smile. “Alright, you all know how Never Have I Ever works, right?” She scanned the group, receiving nods all around. “Perfect! If anyone wants to skip a question, you take a shot. Simple enough. Should I start?” She tapped her chin playfully before flashing a mischievous grin. “Never have I ever dated someone at least ten years older than me.”

A chorus of laughter and surprised murmurs rippled through the group as Rafe, Kelce, and Topper each dropped a finger. A few gasps followed, and your eyes darted to Rafe, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"So, you’re into cougars, huh?” you whispered, unable to hide your amused smile.

He shrugged, glancing at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Not anymore,” he murmured, his gaze flicking to your lips. The slow lick he gave his own sent a spark through you, making you gulp and look away quickly. Was it the alcohol, or did he just do that on purpose?

JJ smirked, taking the lead for the next round. “Alright, let’s up the stakes. Never have I ever been in handcuffs…and I don’t mean the kind from a police station.”

The number of people lowering their fingers was surprising. Sarah, John B, Kelce, Chiara, Cleo...and even you. As soon as you put your finger down, Rafe snapped his head in your direction, his eyes wide with surprise. You avoided his gaze, a sly smirk playing on your lips as you focused elsewhere, feeling his lingering stare and the unspoken question in his eyes.

“Lots of naughty people here,” Kiara smirked, eyeing the group of us who had fingers down. Her grin was wicked as she surveyed the room, making everyone squirm just a little. “I see y’all… I see y’all! Alright, someone else ask the next question!”

Topper jumped at the chance, grinning as he dramatically raised a finger. “Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this room,” he declared, looking around with a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

You watched as some people—those who were obviously in relationships (and Chiara)—put their fingers down, laughing and giving each other cute looks. You shrugged, you didn’t relate to that question. You didn’t do anything, leaning back as others shared knowing glances. But then, Rafe nudged your shoulder, leaning down close enough for you to feel his breath against your ear.

“Come on, put a finger down,” he whispered, his voice low and warm. His hand rested on your knee, his thumb grazing in gentle circles, as if to coax you into admitting something.

You shook your head, letting out a sleepy laugh. “I don’t have a crush on anyone,” you slurred, clearly drunk. Your words came out slower, a bit softer, and you could feel Rafe chuckle beside you, probably entertained by how far gone you were.

“Did you forget we’re together?” he asked, amused. Without waiting for your response, he took your hand and put a finger down for you. His touch was gentle, yet possessive.

JJ spotted the exchange, laughter bursting out of him as he pointed at you. “Oh, damn, Rafe! She actually forgot she even likes you!”

Rafe shot him a mock glare, flipping him off with a grin. “That’s on you, fuck-heads, for handing her all those shots,” he retorted, pointing an accusatory finger around the group. “We’re gonna head out soon if she keeps this up.”

“No! Don’t go!” Cleo’s voice suddenly cut through, practically pouting. “I like her! Don’t take her away from me—us!”

Pope waved his hands, laughing as he tried to steer the game back on course. “Alright, let’s just keep this moving before the girls start crying. Here’s one—never have I ever had a threesome.”

The room went quiet, people hesitating to react. Then smirks appeared, and the accusations started flying at JJ, with Topper and a few others pointing fingers. “Come on, man! We literally saw you making out with two girls at once last month!”

You felt the conversation slipping in and out, barely paying attention to the bickering. Your head felt heavy, and with each passing second, you found yourself drifting further. Almost without realizing it, you leaned into Rafe’s shoulder, your head resting there like it had always belonged. His arm wrapped around you, hand trailing up and down your shoulder in comforting circles, and you closed your eyes, feeling strangely at peace. His warmth surrounded you, making the noise around you blur into the background. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if you could stay like this forever.

Across the room, Chiara’s eyes narrowed as she caught sight of the two of you, her jaw clenching almost imperceptibly. Her stare was sharp, piercing, and a flash of something darker seemed to flicker there.

“Hey, guys! Let’s stop arguing and actually play,” Sarah called out, snapping everyone’s attention back to the game. She pointed at you and Rafe, grinning. “Those two are practically out like lights! Okay, here’s one: never have I ever had sex in a movie theater.”

Laughter erupted again as John B hesitated, clearly too shy to admit to anything. You looked up at Rafe, raising an eyebrow playfully as if to ask if he’d ever done something like that. He met your gaze, shaking his head.

When he raised his brow to ask you the same question, you mimicked his gesture, shaking your head. But then, with a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned into him, dropping your voice to a whisper. “Bathrooms, though… I’ve done it there.” You weren’t sure why you said it—he hadn’t even asked. “I don’t know if that counts…”

Rafe’s brows shot up in surprise, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Guess you’re freakier than you look.”

You chuckled, leaning back. “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t look like the type?”

He shook his head slowly, letting his eyes wander over you, his gaze lingering on your lips before it drifted back up to your eyes. “Not exactly,” he murmured, voice low.

“Oh?” you asked, hand drifting to rest on his thigh, watching the glint in his blue eyes intensify as he looked down at your hand. “Come on, Cameron. Tell me what I look like, then.”

His fingers traced light patterns under the hem of your shirt, brushing over the skin at your waist in a way that made your breath hitch. He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You look like you want to be fucked roughly,” he paused, letting his words linger before he added with a smirk, “but maybe you should get some sleep instead.”

You playfully swatted his arm, pushing yourself upright with a laugh. “Screw you, Rafe.”

With a grin, he pulled you back to his side, wrapping his arms around you as you settled against him again. “Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice gentle but teasing. “You know I’m just messing with you—”

Chiara Romano’s voice cut through the chatter with an edge sharper than before. “Okay, my turn now,” she said, raising her head, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel uneasy. “Never have I ever…” she paused, letting her gaze linger on you a moment longer, her lips curling into a smirk that held none of the warmth and humor everyone else’s questions had. “... never have I ever filmed myself in the bathroom puking my guts out after eating.”

A shocked silence fell over the room. You felt the air freeze, every eye darting to Chiara in disbelief, and then back to you. The words hit like a punch to the gut, and the humiliation was instant and overwhelming. Your face flushed as the awful memories flooded back—the horrible moment that video had been leaked, exposing your bulimia to the world without mercy. You’d spent months trying to rebuild, to reclaim your own story, but now it was out in the open again, with a cruelty that left you breathless.

Your cheeks flamed with humiliation, and your chest tightened as if the air had been sucked out of the room. You felt every gaze on you, piercing, questioning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet anyone’s eyes. Your fingers curled around your tighs, gripping tightly, almost leaving red marks.

You closed your eyes the moment you felt tears coming up. You didn’t want to cry in front of everyone, it was embarrassing enough that they got reminded of the most embarrassing moment of your life—crying would embarrass you even more. None of them know what you went through after that video got leaked. No one knew the nights you spent in rehab centers getting mocked for the video—as if everyone there wasn’t in because of mental illnesses too. They didn’t know the amount of strength it took for you to finally get clean… only for you to relapse again this afternoon.

They didn’t fucking know!

Rafe stood up beside you, his body going tense beside you. His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed at her. “What the fuck is wrong you?” he yelled, his voice sharp, like he was barely holding back.

She shrugged, feigning innocence, though the smirk stayed firmly on her face. “What? I thought we were all sharing our secrets here, right? After all, the video has already been leaked for everyone to see, like, years ago… didn’t think it was such a big deal.”

You felt like you were drowning, the walls closing in on you as Chiara’s words rang in your ears. Without thinking, you bolted for the door, the need to escape driving you forward. You pushed past Rafe, who instinctively reached out for you, but you couldn’t stop. You needed to get out, away from the judgment, away from the stares that felt like daggers. The cold night air hit you as you stepped outside, but it didn’t matter; all you could think about was putting as much distance between yourself and the party as possible.

The rain poured down in sheets, drenching you instantly. You stumbled through the downpour, your heart racing as you made your way toward the car, the asphalt slick and glistening under the streetlights. You couldn’t believe it had come to this, running away like some frightened child, but the humiliation burned too fiercely to stand another moment.

Behind you, you heard Rafe call out your name, his voice cutting through the sound of the rain. “Y/N! Fuck—wait!” He sounded frantic, his tone a mix of worry and urgency. You could hear him rushing after you, his footsteps splashing through puddles as he chased you down.

“Just leave me alone!” you shouted over your shoulder, the words coming out more desperate than you intended. You didn’t want to feel his pity, didn’t want him to see you like this—broken and exposed. 

“Look, I’m so sorry for what she—”

“I don’t want your fucking pity, Rafe!” you turned around to see him running toward you. His clothes clinging to his body. “Just go back there, and leave me alone for the night, alright?”

“I’m not leaving you!” he shouted back, his voice firm. You could hear the determination in his tone, and it both soothed and angered you. Why wouldn’t he just let you go?

You reached the car, fumbling with the door handle, your fingers slipping as the rain poured down, obscuring your vision. You wanted to get inside, to hide from everything—from Chiara, from your mistakes, from the shame that clung to you like a second skin.

Just as you finally got the door open, Rafe was there, blocking your way. He stood next to you, soaking wet but unbothered, his expression fierce and protective. “Y/N, please,” he urged, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Come on… Just… just talk to me.”

His presence was grounding, but you couldn’t shake off the overwhelming tide of emotions surging through you. “What’s there to talk about?” you asked, your voice broke. “It’s all out there for everyone to see. I couldn’t handle it back then and I… I can’t handle it now. I can’t…” you felt tears pooling at your eyes.

Rafe took a step closer, rain cascading down his face, but he didn’t reach for you. Instead, he held his hands up, palms facing you. “Don’t run away from this.”

“Watch me,” you shot back, glaring at him through tears. “You can’t fix this, Rafe, so just let me go.”

“I am not letting you go,” he insisted. “What she did was cruel—she felt miserable seeing us together. You know better than this.”

“Do I?” you echoed, feeling your own resolve wavering as you locked eyes with him. “It’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one with the history she just exposed. You’re not the one who’s been ridiculed for something that was leaked against your will!”

“Neither am I the one hiding in a corner, sulking because some jealous bitch decided to take a cheap shot,” Rafe countered, his frustration evident. “You’re stronger than this, so stop acting like you’re not. Stand up for yourself!”

“Stand up for myself?” You laughed, a hollow sound that echoed in the rain. “And how do you suggest I do that? By going back there and asking her to apologize? By acting like it doesn’t hurt?”

“Why give her the satisfaction of knowing she’s getting to you?”

“Because it’s easy!” you snapped, frustration boiling over. “It’s easier to run away and hide than it is to face the pain! Don’t you get that? I thought I was done with all of this, and now I’m just… I’m back to square one. I thought you understood me better than that.”

“Clearly, I don’t,” he said, his tone cutting. “You want to hide, and I’m not going to let you hide from yourself. I care about you, Y/N...”

You felt your heart pound in your chest, caught between anger and a flicker of something deeper. “What you care about is saving face. You want the perfect girlfriend who can handle anything. But I’m not that person, Rafe. I’m a mess. I have issues, and I’m tired of pretending I’m not.”

He stepped closer, the tension between you thick and electric. “And I’m not asking you to pretend. I’m asking you to be real. To be honest about what you’re feeling. We can face this if you’d just let me help you instead of pushing me away.”

You hesitated, the rain drumming a steady rhythm around you as you stared at him. “Maybe I don’t want your help. Maybe I don’t need anyone to fix me.”

“Then why the hell are you running away from this?” he challenged, his voice rising again. “Because it’s too hard? Because it makes you uncomfortable? Life is uncomfortable, Y/N! That’s the reality, and running away doesn’t change that.”

“I just don’t want to do this right now,” you shot back, the weariness of the night creeping in. “I didn’t sign up for a therapy session. I wanted to have fun, to forget, and now it feels like I’m being dragged back into all the crap.”

Rafe’s expression softened slightly, but his resolve remained. “And you can’t forget by ignoring it. You have to face it, and I’m not going to let you do it alone. If that means we argue, then so be it. But I’m not walking away.”

You looked away, biting your lip to keep the frustration at bay. “Maybe you should. Maybe it would be easier for both of us.”

“Easier? For who?” he challenged but you couldn’t answer him anymore.

You didn’t have the strength to fight. You sighed. “Can you get me home or not?”

He ran his hands through his buzzcut and nodded. “You’re not gonna say goodbye to everyone?” You shook your head, not wanting to get back in there and look at them staring at you. “Alright… get in the car, then.”

You climbed into the passenger seat, the cool leather sticking to your damp clothes. Rafe slipped in beside you, his jaw set, hands gripping the wheel. Neither of you said a word, the silence thick and uncomfortable, each of you lost in your own thoughts. You stared out the window, watching the raindrops race each other down the glass, trying to focus on anything other than the weight of the tension that hung between you.

Your heart was still pounding, the adrenaline from the confrontation lingering in your veins. You could feel the shame gnawing at you, the humiliation settling into a deep, aching hollow inside you. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe shifting in his seat, glancing at you every so often, his mouth twitching as if he wanted to say something. But he kept quiet, his gaze fixed on the rain-soaked road ahead. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel, a small, nervous rhythm that betrayed the stillness in the car.

The silence was suffocating, heavy with words unsaid. You could feel the questions he wanted to ask, the concern he held back, but he didn’t press. Part of you appreciated it, yet another part of you wished he would just break the silence, say something to shatter this unbearable quiet.

You stole a glance at him, his brow furrowed, jaw clenched. He was clearly wrestling with something, struggling between respecting your need for space and his own instinct to reach out. But his restraint made everything feel even more surreal, like the two of you were strangers again, pretending not to know each other’s pain.

Eventually, you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the chill of your damp clothes seep into your skin.

When he pulled up in front of your apartment building, he kept the engine running, his hands still gripping the wheel tightly. He didn’t make any move to get out or say goodbye. He just sat there, glancing out the window before looking back at you, his lips parting slightly as if he might finally say something.

With a quiet sigh, you pushed the door open, stepping out into the drizzle that had softened into a gentle mist. The cold bit into your skin, but you barely noticed. You closed the door behind you, barely looking back, willing yourself not to dwell on the weight of his stare as you turned toward the entrance of your building—but you paused, feeling a pang of dread at the thought of stepping into your apartment alone. The quiet and emptiness that usually felt like a sanctuary now seemed suffocating. You hesitated, glancing back at the car where Rafe still sat, staring out into the rain.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you turned back and walked toward him, knocking gently on his window. He looked up, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crossing his face as he rolled the window down. The awkwardness was palpable, hanging between you like a fragile thread.

“Do you… want to come up?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just—I just don’t feel like being alone right now.” You glanced away, feeling vulnerable, exposed. This wasn’t easy to admit, especially not to him.

Rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard. He hesitated, the tension in his posture softening as he considered your request. “Uh, yeah… sure,” he replied, though there was a touch of awkwardness in his voice, like he wasn’t sure he was the right person for this. Still, he killed the engine and got out of the car, following you toward the entrance.

Inside the building, you moved wordlessly up the stairs together, the elevator’s light out as usual. The quiet between you was no longer charged with unspoken tension but instead carried a strange, subdued calm. Each step felt heavier, and you could feel his presence just a few inches behind you, grounding you in a way that felt strangely comforting.

When you finally reached your door, you unlocked it and stepped inside, flicking on a dim light that bathed the space in a warm, muted glow. Rafe followed, taking in the familiar yet intimate details of your apartment as he shrugged off his jacket. He looked unsure, like he didn’t quite know where to stand or what to say, so he hovered near the doorway.

You offered him a small, grateful smile and gestured toward the couch. “You can sit, if you want. I’ll make some tea or something,” you mumbled, moving toward the kitchen before he could respond. The warmth of your apartment slowly started to chip away at the lingering chill from the rain outside, and you felt a hint of comfort beginning to settle in.

When you returned with two mugs, Rafe had taken a seat on the couch, his gaze still wandering around the room, perhaps more at ease now. He accepted the tea with a quiet “thanks,” and you sat beside him, the silence stretching out once more, but this time it didn’t feel as heavy. 

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough that your knees almost touch, and every so often, your eyes meet and then dart away, a faint spark igniting each time.

It’s you who finally breaks the voice, your voice soft. “I’m going to change. I can… One of my friends’ left his clothes there, I can give them to you, if you want?”

Rafe looked up from his mug, his expression caught between surprise and a hesitant relief. “Yeah, that’d be… that’d be great,” he replied, glancing down at his damp clothes, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

You rose from the couch, moving to your room to dig through the small pile of clothes left behind from friends. Finding an oversized hoodie and some sweatpants, you returned and handed them to him, offering a half-smile. “They might be a little big, but better than wet clothes.”

He nodded, accepting them with a quiet “Thanks,” and stepped into the bathroom to change. The moment he was out of sight, you took a deep breath, feeling the quiet around you settle into something both calm and unfamiliar, his presence somehow easing the edges of your earlier anxiety. You wrapped your arms around yourself, still shaken by everything that had happened, but also oddly comforted by knowing you weren’t alone tonight.

When he emerged, dressed in the loose-fitting hoodie and sweats, he looked different—more relaxed, less guarded. He took a tentative step back into the living room, running a hand through his damp hair as he caught your eye, almost sheepish.

You managed a faint smile, gesturing to the couch again, and he sank down beside you. He set his mug on the table, his fingers fidgeting slightly before he leaned back, settling in.

“Well, I... I’ll just go change. Make yourself comfortable,” you said, your voice soft but inviting. Leaving Rafe in the living room, you headed to your bedroom, slipping into a comfortable black tank top and a pair of Hello Kitty pajama pants—the ones Nina, your agent, gifted you when you’d first arrived in the U.S. They were worn in with memories, each time you wore them a reminder of how far you’d come. You removed your makeup and pulled your hair into a ponytail, feeling lighter and more yourself.

When you reemerged, you noticed Rafe standing in the hallway, intently studying a small collection of photos you had on the wall. You approached him quietly, noticing that he was particularly focused on a picture of you from when you were nineteen, dressed in a deep green saree at a friend’s wedding in the States. You were surrounded by your group of friends, all of you smiling.

“You looked beautiful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as though speaking louder might disturb something precious in the moment.

“Thank you…” you murmured, feeling a soft warmth rise in your cheeks. You glanced back at the photo, remembering how special that day was. “I really like this one. I’d just arrived here and didn’t know many people yet. Then a few friends invited me to the wedding, and I felt... confident, you know? Like I could start fresh here. And wearing a saree again just felt like home—the color, everything... It was my first time going to a wedding here.”

“And how did it feel?” he asked, genuinely curious.

You let out a small laugh, recalling the night. “It was just like back home, only better in some ways. No one really knew who I was, so I didn’t have any aunties critiquing me. Though they did make sure I had enough food to last a week,” you chuckled, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. The memory was comforting, a reminder of the warmth that had welcomed you into this new life.

“The color suits you,” he said, his eyes still lingering on the photo before meeting yours with a hint of a smile.

“You sure you’re not only saying that because it’s your favorite co—”

Before you could finish your phrase, he closed the space between you, his hands finding your face as he pulled you into a rough, heated kiss. His lips crashed against yours with a passion that caught you completely off guard, leaving you breathless, swept up in the sudden intensity of his need.

When he finally pulled back, your pulse was racing, and you stared at him, dazed. “Why… why did you kiss me?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, still trying to catch your breath.

A slow smirk spread across his face as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I wanted to know what you tasted like… again,” he murmured, his voice thick with a teasing confidence that made your cheeks flush.

You swallowed, still feeling the lingering heat of his lips. “And what do I taste like?”

He studied your lips for a moment, then met your gaze with a dangerous glint. “Come il mio,” he said softly in Italian, his words like a promise before his mouth captured yours again, this time slower but just as consuming.

Without breaking the kiss, he guided you back into the living room, his hands firm as they slid around your waist, drawing you close. He lowered you onto the sofa, his lips moving from your mouth to trace a path down the curve of your neck, igniting your skin with each graze of his mouth. His hand slipped to the small of your back, pressing you deeper into the cushions as he continued kissing you, his breath warm against your skin, leaving you dizzy and yearning for more.

You moaned softly when he kissed and sucked the curve just below your collarbone. His lips pressed firmly against your skin, his mouth hot and possessive. The gentle graze of his teeth sent a jolt of desire through you, leaving you breathless and wanting for more. He lingered there, sucking and kissing with a fervor that made you ache for him, making you grind against him unconsciously.

“That’s going to show, Cameron,” you tried to scold him, breathless, feeling both exposed and exhilarated as he moved lower, tracing the outline of your neck.

A wicked smile curled at the corners of his lips, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured, “Good. I want everyone to know.” The rasp of his voice, thick with desire, made your insides flutter as he leaned in closer, his mouth capturing the tender skin just below your ear. 

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over you. Your flushed skin, your red and pulped lips, and your hard nipples. He was admiring the evidence of his claim. The look in his gaze made your pulse quicken, both thrilling and intoxicating, as if he were savoring the sight of you beneath him.

“Shit! You look perfect like this,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over one of the marks he’d left behind. The softness of his touch contrasted sharply with the heat pooling in your core, making you feel both cherished and utterly desired. “Like you belong to me.”

You sat up abruptly, a surge of confidence washing over you as you peeled off your top, revealing your bare breasts to the air without a hint of shame. Maybe it was the way his eyes roamed over you, filled with wonder and desire, as if you were the most beautiful sight he had ever encountered. Or perhaps it was the intoxicating buzz of alcohol still coursing through your veins, amplifying your boldness.

Either way, you didn't care.

“I’m the luckiest motherfucker on earth,” he muttered to himself, his voice low and awestruck, before sinking back onto the sofa, his lips finding your skin with fervor. His mouth was like fire against your breasts as he sucked and kissed, igniting a wild heat within you. You threaded your fingers through his closely cropped hair, tugging gently as you lost yourself in the pleasure of his touch. His tongue flicked against your nipple, sending delicious shivers coursing through your body, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you had gone so long without him.

As his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, your breath hitched with anticipation. His hand glided up your thighs, tantalizingly close to where you needed him most. “Rafe…” you breathed, your voice trembling with longing. “Please…”

“Please what?” he challenged, his tone teasing but laced with desire. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“Just… touch me. I want you to touch me,” you moaned, your hips instinctively rolling against his hard cock-straining against the fabric of the sweatpants you gave him.

“Touch you where?”

His playful question sent a spark of frustration through you, and instead of answering verbally, you guided his hand, placing it firmly on your pussy. “Here. Touch me here. Please…”

In an instant, your pajama pants were gone, discarded like the inhibitions that had held you back. He kissed his way down your stomach, trailing hot kisses over the fabric of your panties, before moving to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. A shiver ran down your spine, and you couldn’t resist glancing down at him, but something tugged at your thoughts. You called out his name, your voice breathy.

“Yes, baby?” he replied, looking up with hunger.

“Take it off.” You pointed at his shirt, and without hesitation, he stripped it off in one smooth motion, revealing his chiseled torso. He climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, radiating warmth and strength. You couldn’t help but reach out, exploring his body—his hair, his lips, his broad chest, and the defined muscles of his abs.

With a sudden intensity, he kissed you again, their lips melding together as if they were made for one another. But after a moment that felt too short, he pulled away and descended between your legs once more.

Just the image of him between your legs could make you come.

“God, I want to taste you,” he groaned, his fingers touching your clit through your panties. “Tell me, pretty, do you want me to taste you?”

You nodded.

“Words, baby.”

“I do,” you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as you wrapped your legs around him. “I want you so fucking much, gosh!”

As the heat in the room swelled, just when you thought Rafe would finally remove your underwear, he suddenly stopped. His hands ran frantically through his hair as he began to pace around your living room, his agitation palpable. Confusion washed over you, your brow furrowing in concern as you sat up.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Rafe, please talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I can’t do it,” he said, shaking his head, the anguish in his eyes cutting through the atmosphere like a knife. “I can’t do this—”

“Do what? What are you talking about?” Panic tightened your chest as you searched his face for answers.

“Have sex with you,” he finally admitted, his gaze finally locking onto yours. “I can’t have sex with you, Y/N.”

The world around you faded, and a cold wave of vulnerability crashed over you, leaving you feeling exposed and raw. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as you scrambled to grab your black top from the floor, pulling it over your head, a desperate attempt to cover not just your body but the aching hurt in your heart. “Wha… why? Why can’t you? We were doing so well… I thought it was good.”

Rafe stepped closer, his expression softening but shadowed with pain. He cupped your cheeks in his warm hands, but instead of comfort, it felt worsel. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, as if he were trying to transfer some of his strength to you. But then, he turned and walked toward the hallway to put on his shoes, and the ache in your chest grew.

You couldn’t let him leave like this. Panic surged through you as you sprang to your feet, rushing to the door to block his path. “Tell me why,” you insisted, your voice cracking as you wiped away the tears that had begun to fall.

“Y/N, you’re drunk…”

“So are you! You’re tipsy!” you threw your arms up in frustration. “Why does that matter? I want you. You want me—”

“Because I don’t want you to regret it,” he said, his voice breaking as if the words were tearing him apart. He sighed deeply, the weight of his decision hanging heavy between you. “I don’t want you to hate yourself when you wake up in the morning because you slept with me.”

“That’s not going to happen, Rafe. Please don’t leave. Stay here with me—we don’t have to do anything,” you pleaded, desperation dripping from your every word. 

But his mind was made up. He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours one last time, a sweet farewell filled with unspoken emotions. As he asked you to step aside, you felt a piece of your heart crack. You moved reluctantly, watching as he walked toward the elevator, each step echoing in your mind like a countdown to the end.

Just before the doors closed, he turned back, his expression a mixture of regret and sorrow that mirrored your own. “I am sorry, sweetheart.”

And then he was gone.

Since then, you haven't heard from him in two weeks.

chapter six

[effervescentdragon]

F1 drivers as Premier League teams, 2024 edition

Compiled by yours truly and @sebsrainbowbicycle

Stay tuned for the post that will get both me and Dee cancelled in both the F1 and the football fandoms. Onwards, unto the breach!

Lando Norris - Chelsea

Overpaid, overrated, 99,999% chance of being fundamentally racist, and yet somehow doing really well this season.

Checo Perez - Everton

SHITE and yet still in competition somehow despite it all.

Max Verstappen - Man City

115 charges vs 1.8 million catering budget, FIGHT!

Lewis Hamilton - Arsenal

Was really good but really hated, is trying to regain former glory but somehow it's reaaaally not working bcs it all falls apart in the last leg. Also he's an Arsenal fan so it rly works out.

Fernando Alonso - Manchester United

The greatest of them all... just don't look at the referees/Singapore GP/the money put into the stadium/what is done to the peach/the staff around Fergie/et cetera et cetera. Fucks real hard but it's just not going well at the moment. There is still hope, tho. :,)

Alex Albon - Tottenham Spurs

Cracks under pressure. Bottles it a lot. Is a dick. Also I never thought I'd say this, but I really miss Logan Sargeant as an option just about now.

Valtteri Bottas - Leicester

Were really good once. Are pretty shit now.

Charles Leclerc - Liverpool FC

Loses, and loses, and loses, and suffers more than Jesus himself (apart from being a really really rich brand), is amazing and has the absolute chance to win, unless they.. slip. :)

Carlos Sainz Jr. - Aston Villa

They're pretty high placed and you're like. What are you even doing here, polar bear?

George Russell - Crystal Palace

You're thinking The Great Exhibition of 1851, you're thinking royalty, you're thinking Queen Victoria... and then he speaks and suddenly you realize - it sounds fancier than it is.

Oscar Piastri - Nottingham Forrest

Mate, nobody understands you speaking.

Pierre Gasly - Newcastle United

You think they should be doing better than they are since they've been around for so long, but then you think twice and you're like. Should they tho?

Franco Colapinto - Brighton Hove Albion

You don't expect them to be that scrappy, but you kinda dig it.

Yuki Tsunoda - Brentford

They're doing pretty well, scoring in the 1st minute and rly agressive (complimentary), but you know they'll probably lose.

Nico Hulkenberg - West Ham United

They've been around for so long and they were good once, but they've also just been consistently mid for quite a while.

Liam Lawson - Fulham FC

Esteban Ocon - Bournemouth

Isn't in the relegation zone but REALLY should be.

Zhou Guanyu - Ipswitch

Is in the relegantion zone but kinda shouldn't be.

Kevin Magnussen - Southampton

In the relegation zone.

Lance Stroll - Wolves (nobody got time for your wannabe Shakespeare lvl name, we all know you're Racing Point, dude)

Is in the relegation zone but will pull out because of divine intervention (Daddy).

[gastlygallows]

Had a little over a week with my bf and spent the whole time smoking weed but now he's back home (2000 miles away) and it's time to take a break from the smook and focus on my Career Writing

Imma be honest with ya chat I struggle with a staggering insecurity despite the fact that I know I've got talent People enjoy my fanfiction and what original stuff I've published sits at 4.5 stars minimum on the kindle store

Imposter Syndrome is real and I wish I could share my original work more casually but with how cancellation is a thing and people freak out over the least little shit and also because I'm white (nothing worse to openly be in a creative field than white)

I absolutely must separate me the original author from me the fanfic author :( and it means that I suffer alone a lot on that front

[neoplatinum]

til' death do us part - part 1 | minatozaki sana

summary: sana minatozaki walks right into your life with a marriage license.

pairing: heiress!sana x reader

themes: arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, tension, lots of elitism, conglomerate power-hungry side characters, implied sex

wc: 5.0k

(series masterlist)

"the minatozaki's are waiting." you stare at the contract in front of you, frustrated at the idea of the family visiting. they sent the contract to you two weeks ago, and you knew that they were expecting a response, as in a signature. but here lays the contract on your coffee table, left to collect dust.

"let them in." you sit up from the couch, adjusting your shirt. you watch the maid let them in, timed steps in the long marble hallway. you hear their presence before you see them. then you see the matriarch of the minatozaki family step into the room. her head held high and proper, like a leader.

she reminds you of your own mother: the sharp tongue, quick judgements, and inability to let go of grudges.

then walks in sana minatozaki, the only heiress of the minatozaki group. she is not a stranger at all, but you havent decided if she is a friend or foe. when you were both younger, annual balls were centered around her. she always took those events in stride, while you enjoyed sticking by your mother's side.

you often remember watching sana dancing with anyone who would ask her; even from afar, you knew she was someone that everyone awed at. they treated her attention like a prize worth attaining.

"hello mrs. minatozaki and ms. minatozaki, please have a seat." you direct them to sit on the opposing couch. "how may i help you?"

they both get situated while you sit by yourself, feeling the weight of the minatozaki power firsthand. you watch your staff rushing to present them with tea, only for the two to dismiss them quickly.

"yes, we sent over a contract earlier last week, please sign it." the matriach points at the contract on your table.

"yes well, it is a marriage contract, a legally binding one. i need time to think it through."

"what is there to think through? you get to marry into the minatozaki group, and solidify your business with the backings of our family, i see no reason that it's empty now."

you frown at that, those were the exact words your own father told you over the phone, you called him immediately after receiving the contract, he told you the same exact thing, ending the call immediately after.

you dont disagree with the benefits, you would just rather marry someone else. someone that you could be in love with, not sana minatozaki.

"mrs. minatozaki, as much as i understand the power and backing of your family. i am rather old-fashioned. i only believe in marriage out of love." you nod solemnly to the older woman.

she lets out a trained laugh and holds her daughter's hands like they're her prize and tool. "love? you don't think that you could love my daughter?"

"mrs. minatozaki, i didn't mean it in that way-"

"so, what way did you mean it? my daughter sana," you say, watching as her daughter stands up from the couch, tall and proud, just like her mother, and smiling at you in that coy smile. "she has a line of suitors far longer than you could imagine; you should reconsider."

"mrs. minatozaki' please if i may-"

she holds her palm up, completely stopping you from speaking. "enough. here's what we're going to do: a three-month commitment. truly court my daughter for three months, and if you can honestly tell me you aren't in love with her, then i won't bother you with this matter for any longer."

"mrs. minatozaki, i think this is a completely archaic idea!" you exclaim, shocked to hear her say these plans. how quick she is to decide for her daughter's life.

"watch your tone. do not forget that your mother and I are well acquainted." she points her finger at you, and in a split second, she's back to that trained smile that is always so unnerving and threatening.

"i'm very sorry mrs. mintatozaki, please forgive my rudeness." you bow deeply at the woman. you return to your trained demeanor, letting mrs. minatozaki run your life for the next three months. who knows what she'll say to your mother if you decline?

both women get up promptly at the matriarch's signal, and you rush to walk them out of the manor. their resounding footsteps echo through the halls. the matriarch continues speaking of the three months of "dating," and you nod at every word in appeasement.

you assist them into their car, and soon they speed away from your manor. leaving you frustrated in your own driveway. by the time the sun has set, you finally return to your room.

--

the thought doesn't bother you anymore, while you were nervous at the idea of the minatozaki's pressing you on this marriage, you had gotten way too swamped with work.

in a week's time since the visit, you were giving a big presentation to shareholders and clientele. countless nights spent languidly going through the motions of collecting data for infographics and reports to extrapolate data. all part of your stressful day job.

a job that you take pride in, to take over the family business. dedicating years of your life to build the rapport needed for your father to put the company in your name.

you begin to wrap up on your final slide, indicating the prosperous quarter that your company has been seeing. beautiful graphics that display profit margins through the roofs. in every chair of that conference room sat a wide smile at your future projections.

"we expect to see a projection of 33% from our previous annual profits, along with more assets, and with the likes of a possible acquisition, this company will continue to flourish. thank you all for today." you conclude your presentation and smile to the many shareholders. they all stand and applaud you; you take a deep bow and shake hands.

the shareholders hound you, all gathered around in suits that costed more than the average house. they only bowed to the sound of money dropping into their pockets. so they push you, push your boundaries of how much you'll let them take.

mr. seki has always been the most persistent, asking for more money than he knew how to spend. so he stands before you, eyes twinkling and his grubby hands rubbing together like he found a gold mine.

you listen to him speak of the golden days with your father, business had little to regulations, making money was easier than breathing, but now he breaths down your neck for bonuses. the words travel in one ear and out the other, he forgets that you were a young child listening in to his discussions with your father.

before you know it, you hear that sharp clicking sound, the sound of sharp hard rubber hitting the tiled floor, you hear heels. short confident steps of a woman, and then you see it through the frosted glass, a womanly figure.

she's walking right into the conference room. then you notice the details: long brunette hair in waves, branded sunglasses atop her nose, a light pink suit adorned with blinding diamonds. behind her are bodyguards that tower over everyone. everyone's conversation stops at the sight of her, she stops right in front of you.

eyes strong and daring, she slips off her glasses and you recognize her, the woman of all your friend's dreams: sana minatozaki. more confident than ever, not being guided by her mother, she smiles that smile that you know your friends swoon over. delicate fingers slip off her glasses as she hands them to her assistant. eyes still focused on yours.

then she does it, grabs ahold of your tie, and slams her lips against yours. and you can hear it faintly, the sound of the shareholders all gasping, drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat. the searing kiss lasts so long, like a time loop. when she pulls back, you gasp for air, choking and doubling over coughing like you inhaled chili powder. all your presentation material spilling on the ground.

"sorry to cut the festivities short, gentlemen." she bows lightly, an amused smile underlying her sarcasm. "my fiancé and i have things to attend to, i'm sure you know how demanding your wife can be". she giggles at that, letting them all nod, and disperse.

"fiancé?" you cough out, still catching your breath. sana grabs ahold of your hand and drags you out the conference room, and out to the elevators. you watch her two bodyguards at your feet, ready to intervene with broad and thick builds.

they remind you much of your father's bodyguards. but you never wanted them because it just felt so unnatural to be followed by men who protected you.

sana stands before the elevator, and without missing a beat walks in, at the sound of the door opening. you get pulled by the two bodygaurds into the box. now you stand next to a smirking sana and two men who could break your spine ten times over.

you exit into the lobby, all the staff rising to their feet at the sight of you and miss minatozaki. greeting you all, as you rush to follow after sana. you have a sinking feeling if you don't that those two men behind you are going to toss you right into the ocean. right outside of the lobby, is the sight of the signature black marked sedan. a true sign of a minatozaki. like the fortress of a family, this car is far than capable of withstanding a nuke, how true this statement is? you never want to know.

sana is quick to sit herself inside, being guided by her chaffeur. you nod to him before sitting inside, seperated by the middle seat. the door closes and suddenly you feel claustrophobic.

the last time you spoke to sana was years ago, back in law school, you never did like her clique but they were everywhere. so you have interacted with her through case studies and presentations, steering clear of the intimidating minatozaki group. so much for avoiding them, now you're stuck in a car with the exact person you were avoiding all your life.

"mother is furious." she comments, grabbing her heels off her feet, tucking them into a compartment. you stare at her for a while, confused with what she means. "well?"

"miss minatozaki, i thin-"

"sana. just sana please." she corrects you.

"miss sana, please, you cannot barge into my shareholder meetings and attack me like that. that was unacceptable on all levels." you continue. loosening the tie that felt like it was choking you when she grabbed it. you slip it off your neck and into your pocket.

"i thought mother made it clear her expectations. you sign that marriage license, and we're good." she continues to correct you, disregarding your frustrations.

"sana. i apologize but i have been swamped with work, i cannot even begin to think about marriage." you complain.

"work? you marry into the minatozaki group and you'll never lift a finger. those infographics you put together were cute, but the minatozaki's never put themselves through work they can pass off to others. marry in, and we'll find a suitable ceo the second you say so." she is everything you stand against, a figurehead as the ceo is the last thing you want for your budding company.

"i think you are mistaken, miss sana. this company is me, i am this company, that will not change if i marry into the minatozaki group." you don't waver for a second, conviction running through your blood.

she smiles at that, "you are one of those. the ones that are married to their work before anything else." she takes a second to contemplate this thought, what would you bring to the minatozaki group? profit, drama, not a headache that's for sure.

"i'm going to let you in on a secret," she leans her head towards you. "like how you are married to your work, i am married to wealth. doesn't matter if you have a million mistresses, or a thousand bastard babys. as long as you don't smear the minatozaki name, you will fit right in."

"i do not think so miss sana. the minatozaki's are adamant about blood purity, they don't let bastards live." you explain. she smirks at that, you've clearly done your research about the minatozaki clan. "miss sana, please, me marrying into your family would not beneficial to you. i am too concerned with my own self to be a pawn for your clan." you finish, hoping they will let this issue to rest.

"you seem to know a lot about our family for someone who isn't interested marrying in." her eyebrow shoots up and with the snap of a finger, the bodyguard hands her a manila folder through the slit of the window.

"once again, we urge you to sign this. i hope we become lifelong partners, fiancé." she winks and steps out of the car. speaking to the chauffeur, and soon you're being driven by the minatozaki car, another car ready for sana in an instant.

now you're left with a manila folder, weighing heavier than anything else in the world. when you are sit in your armchair with the manila folder, nursing a nice drink to unwind, you finally untie the manila folder. opening the contents, you find the same contract on your coffee table. signed with sana's signature in the bottom, and another paper.

in a written letter from your own father, you nearly crumple the paper in your own hand. the clauses of placing your company in the hands of your father, all shareholder signatures at the bottom. indicating the removal of power. in another line it reads in big bold letters, date sana for three months or your company will be absorbed by your father.

you call up your father.

"father, this is ridiculous, you cannot do this to my company. why are you meddling now?"

"you insolent child, given the opportunity to grow your business, you choose instead to be selfish? i present to you the opportunity of a lifetime: marriage into the minatozaki group. and i've been told you're pushing their patience." his deep voice rumbles into the phone. "my final words are these: you want your company so bad, prove that you are committed to the minatozakis, then i will transfer the power back." he firmly states.

"i don't even have the time, father. my schedule is busy with the new year and final changes with new clientele."

"i've already spoken to your assistant, all work for you the next three months have been transferred to my coo. he will take over for the time being, i trust him to run my own company, so don't you go spouting nonsense about his credibility." you bite your tongue at the sight. how dare your father meddle in your company? one that you built up with your own hands. the only piece of yourself that wasn't controlled by your father.

"do not forget who raised you. i can take everything away." his voice booms through the speakers. he ends the phone call there. and you throw that phone like a baseball, shattering the device into pieces.

--

so you do date sana for three months, finding it absolutely absurd in the beginning. often visiting her wherever she traveled. when she was busy, you would send out bouquets in your absence. you tried your best to date her, devoting time to getting to know her better. she's like you remembered when you were younger, loud rambunctious and had an eye for all things expensive. you spent trips all over the globe within those three months.

it's a strange feeling. letting yourself rest, you can't remember the last time you went on a vacation other than in law school. here you are, lying in a lounge chair on a private beach in santorini. drinking mai tais while you stare into the horizon. confused with your own life right now.

it should've been the merger. you get antsy just at the idea of your father's coo leading the merger, but what can you do. that company is not "yours" right now. while you are trying to enjoy the sight of the bright sun and clear waters, you watch out of the corner of your eye as sana flirts openly with a resort worker.

hand on his bicep, leaning in to show more cleavage, all the while keeping a sultry smile on her face. you're done letting your life be decided for you. you walk over.

"hi honey, how is it going?" you smile towards her, leaning in for a quick kiss. holding her neck in place, as you watch the man walk away. you let her go.

"jealous?" she smirks.

"no. i need answers." you sit down in front of her. "why me?"

"what do you mean why me?" she sips on her cosmopolitan, not provoked by the question.

"why marry me? my father is well known, but we are not a conglomerate group, why do you wish to marry me? i provide nothing to the minatozaki group, it doesn't make sense. there's the watanabe clan, the abe clan, the ito clan. i really don't understand why my family."

"it's not your father or his companies, it's you." she points at you. still sipping her drink. she doesn't skip a beat, no hesitation in her words.

"i hold no power on the world stage, you would be well off marrying any clan." you try reasoning with her, beyond perplexed on why she chose you.

"the watanabe clan are dirty: plagued with dirty lust, the abe clan are ruthless killers, the ito clan has been known to kill their woman. so tell me, how much better off i will be marrying them?" she continues. face hardened.

"i see...they are not as great as their name." you stare at her. less perplexed but definitely confused.

"we all grew up together, all the heirs, i know them better than they know themselves. and i do not like what i see. but you and i didn't speak to each other." she signals for another cosmopolitan, thanking the staff member and digging through her bag. pulling out photos of you two when you were children at the annual balls.

"you are worlds better than all of them combined. i could see it in the way you never vied for my attention. they all were intact dogs, hoping to hump something by the end of the night."

"sorry for the assumptions," you offer. the way she looks away from you, watching the ocean. and letting out a long and heavy sigh. she tucks the photos away. "so, marriage out of convenience? is that all this is?"

"yes." she nods.

you grab the contract from your bag, signing it in front of her. and then placing it in her hands, "to a happy marriage sana minatozaki, i hope you can handle my snoring." you laugh.

she grins at the contract, and tucks it into her bag. "then i hope you can handle my kicking. you groan jokingly and laugh loudly, her joining you.

--

minatozaki weddings were no joke. halls lined with marble pillars with gold accents. dishes made out of the finest and purest porecelin. waiters dressed in their finest, not a single hair out of place. global leaders and their children attending, even if they had no ties to the minatozaki.

the grandiose hall with beautiful mirrors dating centuries ago. recovered artifacts from the edo period, adorning the shelves. the giant minatozaki family crest on the back wall. with long tables lined with wedding gifts. you stand next to sana as the reception procession continues into the night. many notable figures congratulating the marriage. as well as the intricate gifts being handed off to you. each gift being placed and documented by the minatozaki security team.

the minatozakis look happy, wearing traditional kimonos and inviting all the guests to talk about their daughters marriage.

even though the place is filled with laughter and happiness, you can't help but feel like you just entered a loveless marriage. where you are destined to avoid sana, she smiles at everyone, showering in the attention, while you can't wait to get back to work.

--

you had explained to sana you wanted a quiet honeymoon, one that was peaceful and relaxing. so you both went puglia, to enjoy the rich Italian culture and the beautiful greens and blues of the water.

sana spent nearly ever second of the day buying herself clothes while enjoying pestering you. often times dragging you along to carry her bags, and be at her beck and call. she calls it "conditioning for a happy marriage." you had rolled your eyes when you heard it, but you wanted a happy marriage too so you complied.

now you stand in the middle of puglia, taking photos of sana, at her request. for the third time that day.

"how many photos do you need sana?"

"as many as i want. stop talking, more clicking!" you get back to taking photos and letting her enjoy the scenery. it's quite nice being with sana, she may be a bit high maintenance, but she doesn' t overstep when it comes to your boundaries. letting you enjoy your own alone time and venturing through the city alone.

sometimes you bring back flowers or a small gift to her, all of which she happily enjoys with a warm smile.

--

after the honeymoon, its back to the real world. in which your father happily returned the company back to you. the merger had been successful, but you're still catching up on paperwork that only you could sign. in the coming months, sana has moved in.

living together has become a routine. when she moved into your manor, she claimed it was a nice change from her home. you were confused because her house was far more amenities, but you let her move in.

so, every morning and night, you spend time with her, sleeping in the same bed, drinking the same coffee, and sitting at the same dining table. you don't share more than a few words with her, but her presence has become a nice addition to your life.

she's made herself comfortable, her makeup products all lining your sink, heels filling the floor of the closet. her closet so big that she ordered construction to build her own walk-in.

often times you see her out lounging in the sun room doing yoga or pilates. or when she's in a good mood, she'll join you in your study room to do work herself.

she goes out at night frequently, so you make it a habit to stay up until she gets home. you know she's protected and safe with her trained bodyguards and chauffeur.

it just brings you a sense of comfort to bring her inside in case she's unwell. some nights she gets home with love bites all over her body, other nights she comes home drunk falling into your arms. you never comment on it.

she comments on your life first.

"do you...have someone special in your life?" she asks with a glass of wine in hand. you look up from your table, eyeing her in the doorframe.

"no, i'm married to my job." you look back at the work laid out for you, pushing glasses back up the bridge of your nose.

"have you slept with a woman before?" you stop your work, putting the pen down.

"sana, are we asking about each other's sex lives now?"

"well i can be curious, cant i? you always look so proper." she walks in to sit by you.

"well, yes in the past i have." you comment, a little thrown off with the line of questions. she nods her head and gives you her wine, you sip it and place it on the desk. "why do you ask?"

"we've never consummated our marriage, don't you think it's time?" she leans over, eyeing the work on your paper.

"what happened to marriage out of convenience?"

"marriage out of convenience could mean we're sex partners out of convenience," she smirks. she stands up, pushing the paper off to the side. you raise your eyebrow, trying to get her to stop messing with your work.

"sana."

"yes?" she takes the glasses off your face. a coy smile on her lips.

"we don't have to do this."

"i want to. do you?" she stands in your way, eyes trained on yours. a playful smile on her face. you get up to set your mind straight, no way were you sleeping with your non-wife.

"sana, please, you must be drunk." you walk past her, calling out to staff. "hi, could you please assist sana to bed." sana scoffs at you, flipping you off and pushing past the maid.

you return to your desk, eyebrows pushed together and a headache forming. but you can feel that spike in your stomach, you're sexually frustrated.

--

you've been actively avoiding being too close with sana. whenever she circles around, you scoot further away. opting for open spaces where she won't make sexual advances. rejecting her isn't fun either, she gets all pouty about it, but the way she makes you feel lately, has been dangerous. so you try your best to exercise restraint.

in the coming weeks it's harder and harder. some days she visits with your dress shirts tucked into a pencil skirt. walking in like a wet dream into your office. you will yourself to have self control but you can feel it slipping. the way you want to grab her, feel her skin under your fingertips, wanting to wrap around her.

today she manages to get under your skin. "darling, you must be so tired." she slides behind you. and starts massaging your shoulders, pressing the knots away.

you let her, feeling the tension release from your shoulders. her hands move expertly, and soon you feel more relaxed than ever. her hands begin to wander, sliding over your torso and frame. you turn to look at her, playful eyes staring back at you. you pull her into your lap, grabbing her neck for a kiss.

"i think it would be rather impolite of me to have our first time here in my office. maybe later?" you offer, playing with her pencil skirt.

"i don't care where we do it, as long as we do it now." she smirks and plays with your hair. you pull her up and place her atop your desk. walking quickly to close the door and drop the blinds.

she laughs when push her back, back hitting the desk, and then you lean over her. giving her a long kiss, before sliding your hands up her legs.

"come take what yours." she grins. you begin unbuttoning her shirt, hands trailing down until they reach her hips.

you kiss her fervently, moving towards her like a magnet. "yes miss minatozaki."

--

you might have to label yourself a sex addict, maybe a sana minatozaki addict actually. after sleeping with sana, you can't keep your hands off of her. often messaging her and taking days off to be around her.

it's unlike you, so unfocused and nonchalant about work. but you can't help it, sana feels like a drug and you need your supply. so here you are in your study, trying to clean up the smell of sex before your mother-in-law arrives. sana's an absolute vixen and trying to coax you into another round, but you know at any second her mother will walk into the house like its her own.

you spray a scent over top of the room urgently before closing the door behind you. a clingy sana kissing you deeply, trying so very hard to get you in bed with her.

"sana, no. your mother will be here any second." you force yourself to be the bad guy, pulling her arms off of you. to which she flicks your forehead.

"sana!" the sound of her voice booming like it's through a speakerphone. sana immediately tenses up, posture straight like a board.

"hi mother."

"glad to see you still recognize me." her mother chastises her. you watch the two woman, and you stay quiet. letting sana speak to her mother in a hushed tone, while you stand nearby.

it's hard to get a gauge on sana's mother, she's fierce and demanding. you also can't tell if she likes you, she keeps her distance. but you also can't tell if that's a good or bad thing. oftentimes she shows up requesting your presence at her events. but you play the part well as much as you can.

the older woman walks towards your living room, where she was months ago, and requesting you to marry her daughter. now she moves around your home like it's her own.

"now that you two have been happily married, it's important to discuss the next step." she starts. "we need heirs, multiple."

you and sana look at each other in horror.

"sana was the only heir in her generation of minatozaki's, i need you two to produce more than a single heir. to protect the minatozaki clan." she states firmly.

you groan into your hands, horrified at the conversation. and for the first time you see the matriach smile as she shows off photos of sana as a baby, cute as a button.

it does make you wonder about having a little sana running around, so you take the conversation topic in stride. letting the matriarch discuss traditions, schooling, extracurriculars and education to maintain the minatozaki standard.

sana is horrified to hear all this from her mother, but when she leaves, a light bulb turns on in her brain. then she smiles at you in that knowing smile.

"honey, come on, you heard my mother. we have to produce heirs. you know what that means?" then she wiggles her eyebrows as she drags you upstairs.

and you let her.

--

a/n: sana, sana, sana. she's been plaguing my mind recently. hope you enjoyed, proofreading is difficult work so i didn't do it. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[sulfies]

I'm curious to hear what your Altair and Ezio think of The Farm, should Desmond tell them about it!

I dont think my hc Desmond would outright talk about it unless they ask, but the other two would figure out bits from their convos.

Like Ezio would talk about big family dinners and how noisy it was and how he kinda misses it and Desmond would be like "Must be nice, my meals were mostly silent and quick" just bits and slips that hint on how isolated his childhood was. He maybe doesnt even realize how fucked up some things he says are.

I do love when in fics authors make it so Desmond was trained harder than anyone, but I find it funny that Canon Desmond barely had any idea wtf Assassins were or how they work till he got kidnapped, so maybe he talks about smthn and goes like "ooooh so thats why I had to do that *incredibly dangerous* thing as a kid"

Once they did learn/figure out tho,

Altair: would probobly be the person who understood the most since he grew up as a Assassin too, even tho his childhood was also crazy, I think he would almost Pity Desmond bc atleast he had a good father for a bit and the Assassins in Maysaf were still a community and not isolated from the town. Probobly would open up first about himself to get Desmond to talk about it but it might backfire a bit w desmond saying "oh god I got no right to complain their parents died infront of them😭"

Ezio: would be like "so u grew up with assassins whoa! Must be a huge family that has eachothers backs!" And Desmond is like 😬 "not rlly", once he learned he would be devastated, especially if its Ezio after brotherhood is established "thats not right! Its supossed to be a Brotherhood!" And just like be extra mad on his behalf and Desmond would appriciate him being loud for him. Might force him and Altair to family dinners with Maria and Claudia.

I think they would take the news of Desmond being made to genetically be a perfect cocktail of Assassins the worse out of everything and would have the "ur so much more than ur dna" group hug session

Overall I dont think they would Coddle him too much and Desmond wouldnt want to be coddled but It would strengthen their bond once he spoke about it, just regular old traumabonding

But If they ever saw Will for some rsn:

Ezio: his smile would drop as soon as he was talking or he looked towards Will, would give short answers which Will would think fo him being respectfull till Ezio disagreed with every idea he says (bad or good)

Altair: glares, silent, would use big words to show his superiority would say stuff like "oh thats what you guys do? Hmm we found that unnecesery and timewaste" "These swords? Hmm we dont use them due to bla bla bla but you do you" just find something bad about every single thing and like make jabs about it.

Bc he is sadly a Mentor they wouldnt like go punch him in the face but they would do their best to annoy him in a way he cannot call out bc thecnically they didnt do anything. And ofc they wouldnt answer any question he asked and just say "u dont know? Hmm👀"

One of them almost always would be next to Desmond even tho he would be like "omfg stop acting like guarddogs" and litterally not rlly give a shit that Will was there anymore (basically over it)

[nappingpaperclip]

“People who tell you not to vote Biden are psyops trying to steal left votes” type posts are pro-government propoganda.

Last time y’all spread that bullshit around the blogs getting deleted for being “Russian spies” were black leftists.

NOT EVERYONE WHO DISAGREES WITH YOU IS A PSYOP. Get real!!

Not everyone who criticizes Biden or says they won’t be voting for a genocider and that you shouldn’t either wants you to vote for Trump or not vote!! Third party candidates exist!!! Write ins exist!!! If we actually organized instead of y’all pulling the “lesser evil” bs about a GENOCIDAL RACIST RAPIST OLD MAN we might actually see some fuckin progress!!

Did y’all forget Biden is a rapist?????

Btw is the “left” in the room with us? Where is the left? Where is the progress y’all keep claiming Biden is making?

Last time I checked Biden has not let those kids out of cages, has personally approved more huge pipelines that run through Indigenous lands and speed up climate change, has ex-BlackRock leaders (yknow, the top 10 climate change villains company who also funds most American private prisons as well as funding arms manufacturing companies, who spend millions lobbying politicians on environmental regulations, immigration and drug policy) in his cabinet, increased police and military budget, didn’t codify Roe v Wade, in fact he held it hostage for votes, hasn’t codified gay marriage or trans rights, hasn’t legalized marijuana, hasn’t raised the federal minimum wage, oh and also is DOING GENOCIDE in case y’all forgot or wanna tiptoe around the “some bad policies” y’all always talk about

Did y’all forget about his “nothing will fundamentally change” policy?

Y’all heard that and thought “left”?? Babes he’s a right leaning centrist AT BEST.

There are actually left candidates btw! Ones who care about things like Landback and reparations and free healthcare and education and sustainability! The ones y’all are telling people are throwaway votes/votes for Trump!! (Which isn’t even how the electoral college works btw)

So us telling y’all not to vote for a genocider makes us Russian psyop spies but y’all telling us not to vote for leftist third party candidates doesn’t? K.

Vote for who you want, I don’t give a fuck anymore, BUT DONT TELL HIM HE STILL HAS YOUR UNCONDITIONAL SUPPORT WHILE HES COMMITTING GENOCIDE IF YOU ACTUALLY WANT HIM TO STOP

The only way to get a politician to stop doing WAR CRIMES is to tell them you won’t vote for them or give them money or otherwise support them until they stop!

You can fucking lie if you want!!! All we’re asking is for y’all not to publicly announce Genocide Joe still has your unconditional support WHILE HES DOING GENOCIDE

His approval ratings are literally less than Trumps!

He has no one to blame but himself.

If he loses in November, I don’t want to hear y’all bitch and moan and blame black people or disillusioned voters or third party voters or “Russian spies” again like y’all did in 2016, I don’t want to see y’all blame anyone but him, BLAME BIDEN FOR HIS OWN ACTIONS. HE IS A GROWN MAN AND HAS THE MONEY AND POWER TO STOP IT IF HE ACTUALLY WANTED TO.

Y’all keep saying he’s doing his best to stop it, that he’s working behind the scenes, that he’s trying, IF HES TRYING WHY ARE WE STILL SENDING ISRAEL MONEY?

IF HE IS TRYING, WHY DID HE SEND ISRAEL MILLIONS OF DOLLARS IN SMALL PAYMENTS TO AVOID NOTIFYING CONGRESS?

IF HES TRYING WHY HAVE WE NOT SANCTIONED ISRAEL?

IF HES TRYING, WHY HAVE US SOLDIERS BEEN SEEN FIGHTING ALONGSIDE THE IDF?

IF HES TRYING WHY ARE WE SENDING EXPIRED MREs AS AID? EXPIRED FOOD DROPS THAT ARE NOT ENOUGH TO FEED MILLIONS OF STARVING PEOPLE, WITH FAULTY PARACHUTES THAT KILL CHILDREN?

IF HES TRYING, WHY DID WE BUILD A PORT CUTTING THE GAZA STRIP IN HALF, A PORT THAT NETANYAHU SAID WOULD BE USED TO DEPORT PALESTINIANS?

IF HES TRYING WHY DID HE SIGN OFF $14 BILLION FUCKING DOLLARS ON TOP OF THE ANNUAL CONTRACT AND SMALL SECRET PAYMENTS TO GO TOWARDS ISRAELS BOMBS AND GUNS AND FREE HEALTHCARE WHILE IGNORING THE PEOPLE HERE WHO NEED FOOD, HOUSES, AND HEALTHCARE???

DONT MAKE UP RUSSIAN SPIES TO POINT FINGERS AT! IF HE DOESNT WANT TO LOSE HE SHOULDNT DO GENOCIDE

IF GENOCIDE JOE LOSES THE ELECTION FUCKING BLAME HIM FOR DOING A GENOCIDE!!

[dilflover-4ever]

Caught Josh Kiska

wc: 2.0k

Josh x f!reader

Warnings: slight angst, asshole Josh, illness(?), arguing, fingering (f receiving…), making out, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), kind of a caught in the act moment

Be aware of shitty writing and poor editing, sorry

When you catch the flu during the break of tour, you don’t think you’ll be ready to deal with Josh’s antics. Unless you don’t have to.

All intimate acts are consensual and this is fiction.

Fic under the cut

~~~~~~~

Being on tour was tiring and you weren’t even preforming, but what made it even worse was the fact that you were stuck with your best friend Sam’s older brother 24/7. Josh made it seem as if getting on your nerves was the way that he got off. He did it so much that you've learned to just try and tune him out, ignoring him to the best of your abilities. Not only did he just piss you off but sometimes he was just flat out mean. Making comments about you personally, about how you act or talk. He knew where to hit you the hardest and it didn’t make life any easier. He was a complete dick to you only and there was nothing you could do about it.

Like today, minding your business, sitting on the couch on your phone. You hadn't been feeling well since last night, narrowing it down to a common cold you were just chilling. Obviously your peace had to be disturbed at some point but you didn't think it would be so soon when a hard smack on the back of your head. It caused you to rip your head up, hand immediately searching to soothe the ache from the hit. A laugh came from the offender. It was him, Josh, of- fucking- course, “Oh my God Josh leave me alone.” This was you trying to get him to leave you alone easily. But you knew he wouldn’t as he smirked with a scoff. “Josh I’m not in the mood for this right now, I said leave me alone, go bother someone else.”

“Honey i’m just messing with you calm the fuck down.” There’s no way. Your absolute biggest pet peeve was when somebody told you to “chill” or “calm down”. It just made you enraged and fired up. Like who does someone think they are where they can tell you how to control your emotions. Especially when you were just a little ticked off. "I am calm Josh! but you ruined it!" You told him. "I didn't even hit you that hard what are you on about?" Was his reply. “God Josh just leave me the fuck alone! You're so stupid! You bother me every second of every day and you have a random problem with me for no reason!" You said, a tingling coming from your nose, causing you to aggressively wipe it. "I never said I had a problem with you." He claimed. "Oh then please enlighten me Josh, why do you always ha-” Your yelling was cut short when you sneezed into your elbow, body jerking. When you had thought you recovered and you got ready to start yelling again until the sneeze was followed by a dry throat and a cough attack, you couldn't control it. It felt like you were coughing a lung up, it was painful and loud. In the distance you heard a door open and Sam was soon by your side holding you up while trying to avoid getting in your face and getting sick.

“Woah woah, y/n are you sick?” He said, leading you to take a seat on the couch of the shared hotel suite. Danny and Jake came in the living room to see what all of the commotion was from. The coughing had subsided but the pain in your throat remained. “Yeah it's just a cold dont worry about it.” You tried reassuring them you were fine, knowing you wanted to join them on the walk through town and dinner. Jake walked up holding a glass of water. You took it gratefully and gulped it down.

“So what about tonight? When are we leaving?” You asked. They all stood around you staring until Danny chimed in, “Y/n you gotta stay here, there's no way you're good enough to walk around with us.” "No I-" You went to disagree until another voice cut you off. “Oh come on guys she's just being dramatic, she wants attention.” An offended look crossed your face, “Oh fuck off Josh.” Sam said, turning to face his brother. Jake's phone went off and he pulled out his phone to read it. “Hey guys, we gotta go, our dinner reservations are soon.”

They all turned back to you as you moved to get up. “Woah no, no, no, slow down, you're staying here.” Sam spoke, ignoring the rude glare you gave him. “We’ll bring you back something alright? Just text me what you want.” Jake said, sliding his shoes on. A scoff came from Josh followed by a muttered “unbelievable” You waved them off and they walked out the door.

Shortly after turning a movie on, you quickly fall asleep, ignoring the request for information on your dinner order. You cuddled the blanket to your chin, legs sticking out to avoid overheating.

~~~~~~~

The next morning you awoke to the sound of coughing in the main room, so it wasn't coming from you? You try to fall back to sleep once it is quiet again. Until it started back up, louder this time. You shifted up into a sitting position, groaning when you were met with a sharp pain right in the middle of your head. You got up and shuffled to the door. Opening it you were met with the sight of Josh hunched over the kitchen counter the area around him littered with used tissues. A smirk came across your face, “Aw the little baby is having tummy issues.” you said with faux concern your voice hoarse from sleep and soreness . He turned towards you, throwing a scowl your way “Shut up.”

The other boys entered the room and grimaced at the sight of you and Josh. A laugh left Danny’s lips. “You guys look like shit.” You smiled but Josh took it differently and threw the box of tissues at Danny. “Ok well we are gonna go run some errands, get some groceries and shit for the next couple days of break.” Sam said and followed with, “You two stay here, and please don't fight, I'm not sure either of you can take it.”

“Ah fuck off Sammy” Josh said, moving to sit on the couch. “Ok guys bye, have fun.” You could barely get through the statement without coughing. Once they left you took a seat on the opposite side of the couch from Josh. Once you were comfortable you reached for the remote, but you couldn't beat Josh as he grabbed it and leaned back into his spot. “Stupid fucker” you grumbled. “Don't turn on some shitty show.” You spoke. He retaliated with, “You don't have to watch then bitch.” You scoffed and grabbed your phone deciding to ignore the tv.

After around thirty minutes the show got your attention. It wasn’t good… per se but more the idiocy of the characters was entertaining. You and Josh made comments and even made each other laugh. It was nice, not being in a constant argument with him. You tried to take it in and not say anything passive aggressive. As the show played on you couldn't stop laughing. Josh joined in, an uncontrollable fit of laughter taking over. Nothing was even funny, you just couldn't stop laughing. “You know, you aren't too bad sweetheart.” You turned in Josh’s direction to see him looking at you with a smile. “Josh you’re fucking delirious.” You laughed and turned back towards the screen. He moved to sit closer to you, making you notice his lack of shirt. “Woah cowboy getting undressed already?” You still were laughing. “Alright now your turn,” He said but when he noticed your eyes shooting wide he added, “No i'm joking but I was being serious when I said you weren't so bad.”

With uncertainty you patted his shoulder, “Thanks Josh you aren't so terrible either.” He sat back and put his arm around your shoulders, a cheesy smile plastered on his face. When you met his eyes they were squinted, the illness getting to them. His eyes flashed down to your lips. When a giggled escaped you his eyes met yours again. He laughed and smiled, leaning in closer to your face. “Will you kiss me y/n?” You nodded and leaned in, meeting his lips with your own. It deepened when his tongue slipped between your lips, fighting with your own. You moaned and moved to straddle his lap, leaning his to his touch as he grabbed your hips.

As the kiss continued, his hands played with the hem of your sleep shirt which ironically had his face on it. The shirt was a secret Santa gag gift you received with the faces of all four boys on it. Disconnecting your lips from his, you pulled back to lift your shirt over your head. The cold air met your burning skin as you reconnected with Josh. He reached up and took both breasts into his own hands, moaning into the kiss. You rested your hands on his shoulders and ground your hips down onto him. That made moans fall from both of your mouths. You pulled back and he smiled. “What the fuck are we doing?” You responded with a laugh and he giggled into your neck as he peppered kissing along the side. You shifted up to pull on his waistband. He got the hint and lifted his hips to pull them down to his knees. Your hand drifted down as you took him in your palm giving sift gentle strokes in an attempt to get him to full hardness.

He leaned back into the couch and gave a lazy smile. You smiled back in a dazed state and leaned forward to capture his lips. The kiss was slow and sensual, both of you taking the time to enjoy it. His hand reached to your shorts, he tapped the outside of your thighs and you stood to removed them along with your underwear. Once you were back on his lap he ran his middle finger through your slit. The unexpectedness caused a sharp gasp to leave your mouth. “Aw all wet for me baby?” He grinned up at you and continued touching you. You laughed and leaned towards him. He brought his finger up to circle your clit. You felt your warm breath as it left your mouth and hit his neck.

“Come on Josh stop teasing me.” He could feel your smile as you said it and felt it drop when he slipped his finger inside. He dragged it back and forth, in and out of you eliciting whimpers to fall from your lips. “Think you can take another baby?” He questioned, a hum of ‘mhm’ left you in agreement. Once he had his two fingers inside you, scissoring them apart to stretch you open. You decided you didn't want to wait. “Josh,” You whimpered. “Yeah mama, what is it?” He asked. “Need your cock.” His fingers stalled inside of you as a groan fell from him. “Fuck baby you cant say that, I wont be able to hold myself back.”

“Don't then.” You pulled back to lift your hips up, the blanket pooling around your hips on his lap as he lined himself up. He dragged the tip through your slit, moving your arousal through it. Once he reached your entrance he slowly started pushing in. “Shit Josh,” You said, sliding down all of the way down his shaft. You fluttered around him. He groaned and pulled you back by the back of your neck, making your lips meet with his.

You started lifting your hips up and letting them fall back down slowly. “Oh so now you wanna tease me, you can't do that mama.” Fuck, that name. You smiled and allowed a breathy laugh to pass your lips. He grinned as he grabbed your hips, forcing you to go faster. The sounds of your skin slapping filled the room, accompanied by the moans and groans coming from both you and Josh.

You felt the coil tighten in your stomach, familiarizing yourself with the burn. You clenched around him and then wrapped your arms loosely over his shoulders. “Josh, I'm so close.” You grabbed onto the back of his neck tighter, pulling yourself into him, his face now in your neck. “I know baby it’s okay, let go for me.” His grip on your hips tightened and you could feel the marks forming that you were sure would be dark by tomorrow. You whimpered what you thought was his name but you weren't so sure, as you were completely wrapped up in the pleasure. Noticing a falter in your movements Josh took over, thrusting his hips up to meet yours. The sex sounds filling the room blocked both of your ears along with Josh’s. Neither of you heard the door knob shift, turning and the door being pushed inward.

“Guys- WOAH” Sam yelled. “My eyes!” Danny said, both of them turning away and rubbing at their eyes as Jake just laughed with a shrug and turned around with the others. A shriek came from you and both you and Josh froze before he scrambled to pull the blanket up over your shoulders, covering the both of you. You turned back to face Josh and you both cracked a smile before breaking into laughter. It seemed there was no end to the laughing as the boys looked back up after noticing your coverage. “Holy shit how delirious are they?” Danny said, making the journey to his room. “I dont fucking know dude,” Sam replied, “At least they arent fighting.” Jake added. “Hey yall get your shit together and finish up we got more medicine.” Sam finished before following the others.

You and Josh calmed down and moved to get redressed, not really feeling the mood anymore. Josh leaned into your ear, breathing down your neck. “We can finish this later tonight, need to see you come undone on my cock.” With that he got up and walked into his room. There was silence until you heard harsh coughs coming from his room, you laughed and moved towards your room.

~~~~~~~

edit: ok wait why is this so shit

[utilitycaster]

So. I finally watched last Thursday`s episode. If youd rather just tell me to go look it up myself, I totally get it, but I dont get the Big Deal with Orym supposedly Going Dark?? Like. He is right. They ARE at war and its time that they put aside the Are the Prime Deities Good (they are, we as an audience have canonical proof of it through 2 main campaigns and Calamity) debate and get behind Ashton`s `The Ruby Vanguard is willing to kill anyone, and thats too dangerous to allow` mindset.

Hey anon!

So I can't speak for people who are saying this, since naturally I disagree, but my suspicions are that it's largely coming from people who were hoping for the campaign to more explicitly affirm their personal politics or ideals and are upset that a heroic fantasy D&D show set in a world with very different norms...continues to be set there, and the characters and stories carry out those norms. It's always been a problem, that some people do not like to acknowledge how different Exandria is from 21st century Earth not just in like, there's elves and magic, but in social mores, and this was a jarring reminder to them.

But I agree that this is Orym affirming Ashton's mindset. I also agree that while we have canonical proof from past works, it's best to craft an argument that doesn't rest of that. It does not matter that we know the prime deities' alignments or how they've acted towards past PCs or more generally whether you do or do not like the idea of a world with gods in it. You have one group who is preying on desperate people to the point that one of those people, when confronted but not injured by people who made him feel like he belonged, nearly killed one of them, and who has murdered and destroyed the minds of anyone in their way; and you have a group that is trying to stop them. Orym is just affirming that he is, absolutely part of the group trying to stop them.

Someone asked me last week what the point of the split was, and I said we couldn't really tell until it was over, but I think it served to show the human side of what had been this grand, overwhelming plan, and what the work might be, if Bells Hells can successfully stop them.

Team Wildemount did see more of the macro level - the destruction of Molaesmyr, the gods calling upon FCG and Deanna - but they also saw the survivors of Molaesmyr in Uthodurn, still morning the destruction of their home almost 300 years ago. We saw Umudara, who can't go home. We saw the infrastructure of Uthodurn break as enchantments failed. We saw clerics and followers of gods feeling terrified and lost. We saw people who were absolutely not involved in pain because of Ludinus and the Vanguard's actions.

Team Issylra, meanwhile, saw what kind of people might be drawn into the Vanguard and Ludinus's words - people dealing with oppression in the name of the gods, and people who have suffered faith-shattering tragedies. I think it's an important element of the story, since we've mostly dealt with high-level people (Otohan, Ludinus, Liliana) and only had a few tussles at the Malleus Key.

Essentially, this all served to say "gods aside, Ludinus, as head and founder of the Ruby Vanguard, is exploiting the oppressed instead of freeing them." Because do you know what would have happened had Hearthdell attacked Kiro on their own? This would have been a bloodbath, and a village would be wiped off the map, because some asshole with a magic microphone is entirely happy to use them up and discard them. What if Bor'Dor hadn't been recruited? What if he just got teleported as just a con man in the Cyrios Mountains, and he came across the party? Ludinus never actually stopped wearing that magic funnel, he just changed the methodology.

I think, similarly, the moment with the locket isn't "I shall become a killing machine." Remember how Ashton said the guy with the locket probably didn't have a family anymore? Orym is, in fact, in my opinion, looking at that, and at Bor'Dor, and saying "I'm not going to become this, despite my own losses and grief, and I'm going to stop it from happening to more people, and the path to that might be difficult and require some actions I wish I didn't have to do but which must be done." And I think Hearthdell shows that there will be work to be done if they stop Ludinus; that the next step is to make sure that worshipers of the gods truly do leave other people alone to live their lives in the places where they're genuinely overstepping and engaging in oppression.

My final thought is that there was a lot of discussion during these arcs that there be someone more unambiguously in favor of the gods, and with all of the above, I think that it worked out beautifully that there wasn't, and that we can stop focusing on the gods and start focusing on the people.

[bee-birb]

tails nine theory - sonic prime spoilers - this is a long one

so we established that the prisms have like, mega energy and are way too much power for one person right? like, dread knuckles got a taste of the power from the noplace shard and went mad over it, and thorn rose also went a bit crazy with the boscage maze shard. afterward, she even said that it was far too much power for one person. eggman went wacko trying to get the whole prism initially, though that could have just been eggman being eggman.

my theory is, nine probably never would have gone as far as he did in s3 if he wasn't exposed to the prism. and not just one shard like dread and thorn, mind you. all of them. he had full exposure to all five shards, and was regularly drawing on their power to shape reality with himself as a conduit. first the new yoke shard, then the grim shard, (both in s1), then as the council collected more shards during s2, he was presumably exposed to more prism energy. (though, i think the energy field holding them in the dome would have blocked most of the energy, but you get my point.) that much prism energy could not have been good for his mind, especially because he's still portrayed as rather young in the series. in fact, we only get the ultimate betrayal while nine is in the presence of four of the five shards. thats a lot of power.

because the prism's energy is so strong, and with evidence from thorn and dread that it makes you volatile, nine probably wouldn't have betrayed sonic over the miscommunication. in fact, sonic had mentioned repairing green hill multiple times before, and nine didn't speak up or ask about it. this could be because he was biding his time to get all the shards in order to transform the grim, but he probably would have made at least a sarcastic comment about it. he also leaves the resistance behind after having the new yoke shard in his possession, the same thing that dread does in s2.

over the course of season 3, we can also see the effect of longterm use of prism energy in nine. he gets tired, falling over atop his citadel, and is always mentioning needing more power. this screams that something else is at work in his subconscious. another example is when shadow remarks that it was always all about power. sonic goes to disagree because sonic, but nine agrees. except, i dont think it was all about power initially. it was about building himself a safe haven in the grim. he was originally going to include sonic in his safe haven, too, as evidenced by the hammock and the palm trees they reference in the citadel. it was about finding a place for him to belong- a blank slate for him to start over.

and after the prism is gone, nine gets far more sympathetic and seems to be more himself. this also could be sonic being, yaknow, on the verge of completely falling apart without prism energy, but that doesn't make as much sense. nine was more than ready to extract the energy from sonic in s3e1, and do so mercilessly- after he had used the prism to create the alpha grim bots. are you seeing the pattern? nine gets steadily more unstable, unsteady, and unfeeling as he is exposed to the prism and harnesses its energy through himself.

and i do understand that hurt people hurt people, and the kid is just doing what he can to make himself a home. it makes complete sense to do anything you can to make yourself the safe space that you've never had before. but the fact that he doesn't listen to reason and facts goes completely against nine as a character- he's the logical one. the thinker. he was the first to tell the council that using the prism would cause shatterverse wide decay. and he flat out ignores all that during s3. its not correlative to his character, hence my theory that something deeper is happening with nine.

now, for those of you saying that sonic never had such side effects- he already has prism power in his being. it wouldn't affect him as much as a completely outside source would.

anygays, thank you for reading my rambles and have a good night. remember, its just a theory- a gAME THEORY-

[inamagicalhallucination]

okay so a lot of ppl think dazai having everything planned is a cop out and weakens the other characters

but i disagree

and i hoep i can articulate it well but essentually

first of all i dont think dazai's all knowing or whatever, there have been times where he was caught off guard (like why didn't he just poke shibusawa during dead apple - becuz he didnt know he was an ability)

i think dazai's strength remains in understanding ppl - yes he can sometimes manipulate them but when he was the pm i dont think he necessarily relied on manipulating chuuya - i think he relied on his understanding and trust in chuuya and predicting what he would do - not becuz chuuya's predicable but becuz dazai trusts him to do what's needed

and now with the ada - i think thats even more certain - it's not that he's manipulating the characters to act the way he wants, he understands them and trusts them to do their best

for example - he didn't tell atsushi to go get kidnapped and bring back q's doll - he knew atsushi would do it anyway, becuz atsushi always tries to do the right thing

i know we - me especially - joke about dazai not understanding ppl that well - but i think that's more in relation to him not understanding how much his people care about him rather than not understanding them period

you know how we talk about atsushi being able to apply logic to other ppl and understand that they don't have to "prove their worth" but is unable to put that thought on himself? kind of like that

dazai's strength, in comparison to fyodor, was his friends/allies - which wouldn't matter if he was just using them as pawns

that being said; im not saying dazai isn't manipulative at all - im just saying that its not that simple

he's able to take in account how his friends will react to situations

[the-octopod]

Hii, everyone! I have a few questions for some of you if it's ok! (Idk if these have been asked yet or not, but oh well)

Shellington, what's your favorite of Kwazii's monster stories? Do they scare you any, or can you tell they're made up?

And Tweak! Does it ever both you how often Kwazii destroys the Gup-B? (And others) --- Also, do you like any of Kwazii's monster stories?

Hi, Shellington here! Because you asked Tweak a question as well, I had this saved as a draft, and let Tweak know there was a question for her. So when I sign off, she'll start talking! 🤗

I very much enjoy when Kwazii mentions the Loch Ness Monster. He knows a surprising amount of information about this creature. And although I do believe that it is unfortunately a hoax, I, admittedly, really do wish it was real, so seeing him talk about it with such enthusiasm makes me happy. I also know the Loch Ness monster contributes a lot to Scotland's economy, so I do appreciate it for that fact as well.

I also really like the myth of the Jumping Janglebones, a myth that I've never heard of before- actually, a majority of Kwazii's tales I have never heard of before in my life, which makes sense considering that the majority of them are oral pirate tales. I like the Jumping Janglebones because the concept of the creature is... a bit terrifying actually, and it almost felt real there when we rediscovered the coelacanth. He still believes in this monster, and I do like when he brings it up. The myths being true or not is something we can respectfully disagree on now, thankfully, as we were not as kind about it when we first met eachother. 😅😖

Sincerely,

Dr. Shellington Sea Otter

Alright, the GUPS crash all the time. And I get it. A lotta stuff happens in these Oceans here. But yea, it can get under my skin sometimes. Happens a lot where Kwazii drives irresponsibly. And he knows Im just gonna fix that GUP B right up again so that makes him even less cautious. But I've gotten used to fixing GUPS. In fact sometimes I like that it gives me something to do. And I've seen all sorts of different types of damage so they usually aren't that hard no more. (Thank goodness! Used to get headaches just by working on those things. And i get real frustrated when I work and work and there dont seem to be a solution.)

As for me though a monster I really did like was the Ghost Whale, because well, the albino whale really did look like a ghost kinda, so in a way ghost whales are real if you look at it that way. Except theyre nicer than what Kwazii says in his tales. I hope one day I get to see an albino humpack whale again. I wonder sometimes where he gets all these stories, they're always a treat to listen to. And apparently his Grandfather has seen so many of 'em.

-Tweak

[mrs-monaghan]

To that one anon,

I absolutely agree that actively hating on JK is veryyy uncalled for when we can see Jikook doing great and we don't have all the bts information. Lately, though, I've also seen a lot of Jikook accts minimizing what happened to FACE and Jimin. Celebrating JK's achievements is one thing but I cannot stand to see jkks of all ppl downgrading what happened to Jimin and his records as they're broken by the extra push the company gives JK. Everyone is speculating and trying their best to understand things and for some, that's sidelining Jimin as an accessory to make it make sense. There needs to be fair discourse in all sides of this community without romanticizing the darker parts of it. It's not JK's fault and we don't know all, but we still need to be able to talk about it. Like the fact that some of LC's numbers disappeared right when Seven needed space on the Korean charts. The fact that the FACE wasn't restocked for months when seven was in ready supply almost every week. What happened to LC and the rise of Seven is related even on a minor scale. This is a fact. Some accts were so focused on debunking videos, and celebrating JK that the topic of where Jimin's award nominations and streams are going became taboo because apparently "Jimin is happy as a cheerleader" ...what?!

Actively hating is way too far I agree but all I'm saying is we should still be able to talk about the inequality regarding them as individuals and how that relates to Jikook as a whole. Believing in Jikook and discussing these things should not be mutually exclusive. Everyone has their own opinions. Again not supporting the hate, but we should be allowed to share thoughts shouldn't we, regardless if we won't all agree?

No, I dont disagree. But personally talking about it just seems to get people riled up and that's how Jikookers end up resenting JK. I would rather copy paste a PJM on twitter when they are tagging BH and Geffen and anyone else fucking over Jimin.

I haven't 4go10 everything our man has been through. This man has millions of fans and they only released 13k LC cds. Meanwhile other members got up to 50k. His shit not getting restocked even still?? You cannot tell me this is something Jimin would be okay with. His fans wanting to buy his music and not being able to? No way he's just okay with this.

But I also fail to see how he's not aware of it?? He has to be aware of what happened to him.

(New video here for those who are yet to watch it. As always they do Jimin Jimin great justice)

The 🛴 thing is confusing seeing as he's credited on FACE but whatever.

Unfortunately we will never know how he feels or whats going on unless he or one of the members outright tell us about it. The unfairness is so bad if I look at it too much it makes me tear up. I haven't 4go10 he is still the only member who didn't get a cake. I know it's just a cake but damn this always rubs me the wrong way. @magicshop-pjm1 gets it 🤭🤭🤭

All I know anon, which makes me less sad, is the fact that Jimin renewed with Hybe. That has to mean something. And so I will just be here and support him the best way I can. I am choosing to trust his decision here because we are clearly missing something.

I don't post these asks because tbh they are a downer and they make everyone upset. I don't like to be upset. Until we know the truth I would rather avoid the topic all together. But that's just me 😔😔 It doesn't do me any favours.

But yes, Jikookers should be able to discuss whats been going on without being called JK antis. Provided they're not acting like JK antis.

[iamindebt]

Dussekar is an enegmatic and strange character, shrouded in mystery

[LONG POST INCOMING] [[like its massive]]

1st off, tell me if he EVER, at all , ONCE actively helps you

Chapter 1, Otempes does most of it

Chapter 2, Wiscara tags alongside you to take her scissors back and beats up herbrother ro do so

Chapter 3 you just go with Otempes, but THIS is when you meet Dussekar

Chapter 4 is primarily a solo mission, with Wiscara telling you where to go

Chapter 5 everyone tags along, EXCEPT Dussekar (put a pin in that for me)

Chapter 6, Tucker (who does not need to help) convinces you to take a more active approach instead of waiting for a problem to occur and then solving it (see chapters 1, 2, and 4)

Chapter 7 Base cleph and Otempes solve this, you coming along because Claire told you too.

Chapter 8 EVERYONE gets involved

...yeah hes not the defenition of a "team player".

2nd, Dussekar is just some guy, just some guy that got what he wanted because of a likely meaningless task

3rd, he seems to be apathetic or blatantly NOT CARE about scriptliss despite saying that he does. (put a note about the "apathetic part")

(from chapter 4)

D: ...So you have no idea who released you?

S: N-no... I couldnt see behind me because my entire body was chained... I have no idea who cut the chains either

(Dussekar glances to the paper ball chained to scriptliss's ankle)

D: Hmm... well it seems they missed a chain. And the clamp is tightly secured. Does it hurt to walk?

S: N-n-no... *sniff*

D: Whats the matter?

S: It's just that *sniff* You knew i was chained up... Didnt you?

D: Well... not quite. I heard some rumors. I knew your general whereabouts, but i had no idea you were actually chained up...

D: Im sorry for not going to check up on you sooner. I figured that, wherever you were, you'd be fine on your own.

S: But *sniff* Thats how we lost 1x1x1x1 to the void, too. You assumed that he was safe enough on his own...

D: Hey, can we change the subject? The protagonist is right over there.

S: Oh, hi! Didn't see you over there, Protagonist. Were're just chill out here. Isn't that right Dussekar?

D: Absolutely frigid.

S: Hah! What a Dussekar. Always cracking jokes.

(Nice save)

D: (Shhhh. Put a lid on it.)

This shows us a lot about the characters. Dussekar knew about rumors, meaning he forgot or didnt care to check on Scriptliss, who was IN HIS. WASTEBASKET.

Scriptliss does actually bring this up in their conversation (see red text), instead of confronting this or apologising for it, he changes the subject, focusing on protag.

Once scriptliss notices this he seems a lot more extroverted and friendly from his demeanor not even 5 seconds ago. Most likely scriptliss does not want anyone to find out what happened in pr2 but he does bring up some very good points.

There was no reason Dussekar should not have been able to check in on Scriptliss. Hes immortal, Dussekars immortal, his wastebasket is RIGHT THERE.

(seriously buddy, you cant spend 5 minutes to attempt to reconcile with you only remaining friend? he seems very willing now)

4th

(i would rewrite lanter and dussekars entire conversation but thats like rewriting the bloody bee movie script)

L: ...Are you even listening to yourself? You sound more like a tyrant than the god who you vanquished centuries ago. Just because someone stole your precious little plaything doesn't mean you have to fight so hard to get it back

D: The plotbook isnt a "plaything" its the reality we live in.

L: You truly are no different then the ancient gods who fought to protect everything they ruled over. Have you ever considered that Antagon might just be repeating your own history?

D: well, if you disagree with his actions as much as you disagree with mine, Why dont you go stop him yourself?!

L: Thats not the point. The point is, You need to see your actions from a different perspective before you draw definitive conclusions on people

D: Im well aware of how my actions affect others. I don't need anyone reminding me what the consequences of my actions are. I know exactly what ive done.

L: Alright then. What are you finally gonna do when you finally catch antagon? Surely your not going to send him to banland, are you? Hes just a kid, you know. Until recently, hes been living with his mother. What are you going to do then?

D: ...........

L: Hes just a younger version of you. Are you going to lash out at him when you finally get the plot book back?

D: ..............

L: Well?

idk man dussekar definitely looked like he was considering it. Its bad for antagon because hes a CHILD but its worse for scriptliss because hes immortal. like c'mon dude this is greek mythology levels of punishment.

why did he not try to revive tretone or tess,

major L moment right there

TLDR:

Dussekar as a character seems to show that he does not care about his old friend and has no issues with sending anyone he disagrees with to infinity jail.

it gets better after apologising about screaming at antagon and talking to scriptliss though :thumbs_up:

[audrinawf]

stop encouraging your followers to have kids it’s fucking selfish. the world is shit we shouldn’t be bringing children into this it’s killing the environment. I’m sick of this breeders promoting family life when people can’t even afford to buy homes anymore. it’s irresponsible of you to tell women they should have kids.

quit it with the dramatics. there’s always war and disaster happening it’s not something new. if people stopped having children during the dark ages cause it was “selfish” you wouldn’t be here right now. Y’all really want to act like we have it worse today than any other time.

It’s the same thing as people bitching about recycling and plastic straws when we really should be flaming the billionaires with their private planes and the big corporations ruining the environment.

what have you done to make this planet a better place? besides spreading negativity and trying to discourage people from having kids? (I’m only going this hard cause you’ve left SEVERAL hateful asks that I can see but I won’t address) you’re not saving this world by not having a child, or maybe you are cause there will be one less person like you but the point is that you need to open your eyes and think for yourself. the people telling you to not have kids cause “tHe wOrLD is bAd 🤯” don’t even adhere to those principles themselves. they just don’t want us normies to procreate but it’s fine if they do? they really got us believing we need to be multimillionaires to be allowed to procreate when procreation is most natural instinct for all species.

I see it like this. when you bring children to this world you create your own village, your own tribe and what matters is how much you love them and what you teach them. we need our own villages and communities more than ever today. these money hungry billionaires aren’t going to convince me that what’s truly going to make me happy is having all this free time to sit on TikTok and social media for the rest of my life with a crippling online shopping addiction to fill the void of not having a family.

of course I don’t think you should have kids if your facing homelessness or fighting a drug addiction but jeez we don’t need to be making 6848 million dollar annually to be allowed to bring children into this world.

also be so fr right now. the fact that you called me a breeder just proves that you don’t give af about kids and their well-being. it’s on thing to be child free but you anti family weirdos don’t give a shit about the environment or the kids born to irresponsible parents. y’all have deeper issues that y’all project on us instead of working them out. y’all just use the faux concern as a reason to be disagreeable. that’s all it is. cause why else do these child free people feel the need to have whole communities dedicated to hating on literal kids? why else do I see at least 5 videos a day of people like you feeling the need to prove something to us on TikTok, literally I just opened TikTok today and there was a woman making the most condescending video on the being like “lOok aT mE I dOnT hAvE KiDs” “I have so much free time to do “insert pretentious hobby” look at me I can drink during the day cause I don’t have kids. Look at me!!!!!! okay and? so drink your margarita then? it’s like y’all live to brag and perform. Just do your hobbies and drink your wine and leave us alone. but the thing is we don’t give af cause we are busy living our own lives but y’all are just waiting every day for us to look at y’all and regret our families and children? Like if you’re so happy in your child free lives then why do you need our validation so bad?

[linkspooky]

Spoilers if you still haven't read the new jjk leaks so...

I really cant believe that your prediction of Gojo's battle ending up like Kaneki's beatdown has come full circle...my God even the one where he is lying dead chopped up with no arms and legs is exactly the same.

What are your thoughts on the conclusion of this battle or the whole progression of the story rn,because this really cemented Gege's bad writing at its finest for me.Such a lamest and most underwhelming death granted to one of the most well written character of the series with an offscreen death coupled with his whole afterlife dialogues dickriding Sukuna saying he wouldn't have stood a chance even without sukuna using 10s when the whole battle contradicts this,then Nanami telling Gojo that they always knew Gojo was a battle junkie and didn't care for others,committing a massive character assassination.Just why did Gege had to butcher his character this much?Im so livid right now with the way his death was executed and Gojo's character arc without achieving anything in his life and says he doesn't have any regrets and satisfied? I decided to drop the series because this all left a sour taste in my mouth and knows that there are more ridiculous asspulls to come in the future.But there are some theories going online saying Gojo will come back by rebirth or as a vengeful spirit by going North and correlating to the Lotus flowers in the panels.I still dont believe this will happen since Gege ruined the character for good,but I need to know your predictions on this one too to huff on my tiny amount of copium.

I CALLED IT! *EVERYONE BEGINS HIGH FIVING ME*

Besides the fact that I have proven without a doubt that I can see the future and therefore I can tell everyone with confidence Megumi will live until the end of the manga (this is a joke, or is it?), I have some more to say on the rest of your ask anon.

I'm not going to comment on whether or not I think this is good or bad writing. For me the question is not "is Gojo's death written well?" but rather "What does Gojo's death mean for the story?"

I'll address some parts of your ask and remember I'm not really agreeing or disagreeing with you, just trying to analyze why Gege made the story choices that he did.

with an offscreen death coupled with his whole afterlife dialogues dickriding Sukuna saying he wouldn't have stood a chance even without sukuna using 10s when the whole battle contradicts this

In this case I believe Gege offscreening the death is a pretty classic bait and switch. It happens exactly the same way that Kaneki's fight happens in chapter 143 of Tokyo Ghoul: Re, we as the audience see a build up to a big climactic fight between Kaneki and Juzou two of the most powerful characters in the manga only to literally skip the entire fight and show it's conclusion: Kaneki limbless on the ground.

It inspired a huge controversy back in the old days of the Tokyo Ghoul fandom too, imagine if instead of just skipping the final moment of the fight we skipped the ENTIRE fight between Gojo and Sukuna. Just Nah, I'll Win *Smash Cut to Gojo cut in half* The last chapter also ends with this, declaring Gojo's victory.

My friend Comun said basically after this Gojo was guaranteed to lose because in shonen manga the second a character is entertain that they'll win they have the rug pulled out from underneath them. It's the same reason that when you're making a plan to have a heist in a heist movie you whisper it at first instead of explaining the whole plan ahead of time. If you just explain the whole plan and everything goes according to plan you've spoiled your own story.

In other words the classic bait and switch the audience is led to believe one thing and then slapped in the face with something else. This is just my justification for why I think the ending to the fight is offscreened, the same way it is for Kaneki's fight with Juzou, it's almost parodying battle shonen. Jujutsu Kaisen is a story where characters fight, and Gojo and Sukuna is one of the most hyped up fights in the manga, but the fight is not the most important part the characters are. Fight mechanics are important to the story, but they don't trump everything else so less important to the question of how Gojo lost, or even seeing his loss onscreen is the question of why he lost.

In my opinion the reason Gojo lost is because he was fighting for the wrong reasons, he cared far more about winning a satisfying fight then he did saving Megumi the kid he was responsible for. Gojo is kind of like the audience, he cares more about the battle aspect of shonen manga then the characters, so the author denies both Gojo and the readers their climax.

This is what we call an Anti-Climax.

As a result, the subversion of the climax, the Anticlimax, is probably almost as old. The anticlimax is when you're set up for a climax, such as a spectacular, battle-to-end-all-battles between the hero and the villain. It's built up more and more until the suspense is extremely exciting, and the reader/viewer can't wait for it...then the hero kills the villain in one hit, or the villain spontaneously drops dead [...] Anticlimaxes can work well if it's clear that the subversion of audience expectations is the point, either for humorous purposes [...] or as a more serious commentary on the genre of the work.

It's alright if you're disappointed though because fights are one of the main draws of the series, I'm just explaining the trope that's at work here. As for Gojo saying he wouldn't have stood a chance against Sukuna if he was going all-out I'm not sure precisely that's what he said. He just says he's unsure he would have beaten him even without the ten-shadows, that it would have been close. It's also not completely out of left field that Gojo found Sukuna challenging.

We are told beforehand that Sukuna is holding back a move, because Gojo only has to defeat Sukuna, while Sukuna has to do a boss-rush marathon and beat Gojo and everyone who comes after him. We also receive this piece of foreshadowing, Sukuna saying "Very Good" after Mahoraga succesfully cleaves off Gojo's arm which was likely him learning the technique that he'd use to finish Gojo. He even called Mahoraga his shadow.

Someone else pointed out that Sukuna was also winning the domain battles pretty thoroughly before Sukuna started to use the TenShadows in the fight so I don't think Gojo's statement of how he could have won with his techniques was that out of left field.

If it were not for Sukuna's whim of wanting to use Mahoraga, he would have beaten Satoru and it is even implied that Sukuna allowed himself to be hit so that Mahoraga would adapt to Satoru's infinity. Even in their activation of domains Gojo had to destroy and regenerate his brain five times while Sukuna didn't have this problem, this is because Sukuna didn't lose his domain as many times as Satoru because we must not forget that Sukuna's domain doesn't need barrier like Gojo's so it was easier to destroy Satoru's domain than Sukuna's.

Yet another person also pointed out that Gojo acting completely on top of his game the whole fight and confident in his victory, and yet seemingly contradicting that at the end by saying he might have lost even if Sukuna didn't have the Ten SHadows makes sense if you consider the fact that Gojo was putting on a show for his students. He had to appear absolutely confident he was going to win in front of them to make them feel safe. Whereas, with Geto he's with a peer so he can be more honest about what he thought his chances were.

There's another shift after the opening stage of their fight in chapter 224. What always stuck out to me from that chapter was Gojo noticing that their fight was being broadcasted. After he spots Mei Mei's crows, Gojo never, not once, for the remainder of the fight expresses doubt in himself in any outward way. We see frustration, we see anger, we see surprise, but never doubt. Never worry. And what does he say as soon as he get's the upper hand in the fight?

As for the final part of your post:

Im so livid right now with the way his death was executed and Gojo's character arc without achieving anything in his life and says he doesn't have any regrets and satisfied?

I don't think Gojo said he was satisfied. In fact it's the opposite.

Gojo's unsatisfied because of two reasons, number one he wasn't able to push Sukuna into giving his all, and number two that Geto wasn't among the people who were saying goodbye to him before he went off to fight. I did an entire post, on why I don't think Gojo is satisfied with his death at all.

However, the TLDR: Version, Gojo could have chosen to fight for two things, number one to be the strongest and number two for the sake of his connections to other people. Gojo chooses the first and he fails at that. He's not only no longer the strongest but he couldn't give Sukuna the fight of his life. He's unsatisfied for that reason. He's also unsatisfied because he deliberately gave up all of his personal connections in life, and chose to only focus on being the strongest. Not only did he fail at being the strongest but he also lost Geto and practically everyone else. If he'd have chosen to fight for personal connections instead then maybe things would be different and Geto would still be alive, and he'd be more satisfied because he could have lived a life with genuine connections to other people, but that's not what he chose.

If anything I think it's there to connect him to TOji and the way they died. They both die offscreen and die standing on their feet. In Toji's final moments he thinks he only chose to fight for his personal pride but then Megumi flashes by his mind.

In Gojo's final moments he thinks about how much he regrets that he wasn't able to give Sukuna a true challenge, and then Geto flashes by his mind. He could have chosen to live for something other than pride, the same way Toji could have chosen to live as a father and that possibility flashes before their eyes before their deaths.

[taegularities]

i mean this in the nicest way possible because i truly love you, but i wish writers in general wouldnt try to force reader engagement. i often reply with feedback, but at the end of the day, you should be writing because you want to, not because you want validation. i dont know if its just me who feels this way, but when writers constantly mention needing feedback or they wont write/will stop writing a popular series, it feels like a threat. i dont want reading to feel like a chore, where i need to constantly be validating my favorites so they dont get taken away from me. i love you and your writing and i wish my likes were enough. sometimes i, as a reader, dont feel like engaging/leaving notes. sometimes i just want to read and move forward. i feel like many writers have turned appreciative comments from readers into an obligation.

again in no way is this meant to be hateful towards you, i feel like this can apply to many of my favs. i just needed to get it off my chest and hopefully assure you that we like your writing, even if there's less engagement. if you disagree with any of my points, please tell me/ask me to clarify. i dont want to hurt your feelings and i would love to hear from the writer's side!

hiii! no worries, thank you so much for being respectful and wanting to hear my opinion, as well. i know some people let these things out in the rudest manner possible, so i appreciate that <3

so, the reason i haven't been writing atm is because i lack the time and energy to write :') this year has been crazyyyy busy, so i just don't get to it anymore – and since i've been away/less present for a while, i guess i also drifted away from tumblr, too, and then felt like people might've forgotten about taegularities, and then i wasn't sure if the effort would still be worth it (i get insecure at times, but that's a me-problem). now, the reason i (and many other writers) have this worry is bc writing requires an insane amount of energy and brainpower – when i tell you that so many of us actually slave over just a scene or even a paragraph for ages 😭 (example: the last cmi update was far shorter than what i usually drop, but it took me days to just edit one scene). we ache to write all the time, but life also gets in our way – i barely get time to sit down and work on my fics these days… so when i do get time, i want to put it out there into the world and then see the reactions, too… i write for myself, ofc, but for you guys, too, so i can share that joy; or else i'd keep the fics in my docs, right?

and in that sense, when we write something in the rare free time that we get and that we hope others will love just as much as we do, we do seek some sense of validation, even if that sounds odd. it's like – imagine you studied for a test for like 2 weeks, but then don't get the results you hoped for (which might be a weird example, but effort-wise, it's similar, even if fics don't affect writers' lives in that sense). i know there are many who just write and don't care for feedback (even tho i've seen even those who say this be sad about reader engagement which – very valid), but i think that most who expose their soul and heart like this, do want to see people enjoying it/speaking about it/hyping it up. every creator, be it in the movie, music or art industry, loves to see reactions! and think about it – most writers get so genuinely excited when someone sends an ask that doesn't say more than "i loved this so much!! you're such a good writer!!" which is insane?! like, i know that i do – i get so happy and remember these comments 5ever, and it's a 2 sentence review as opposed to thousands of words. the effort here is unbalanced, but we still love it so much. and you don't need to write an essay, you never never do!! i swear, it's always enough to even get a few words or sentences <3 which, in the end, isn't a lot to ask for, you know?

i'm not saying i will stop writing my series. i would stop if it got 0 reactions OR if my life stood in its way too much; i'll keep loving what i write and write out of joy, no doubt. and tbh, i don't care about notes either. like, i remember "ruin you" getting way less notes than cmi but GOSH we had so much fun back then bc of the interaction and the craze made me so happy hahaha and yeah that's what it's essentially about – community. does that make sense? it's tumblr where likes don't make a post circulate – reblogs do, so yeah, unfortunately, likes are not enough :( i wish they were. i totally get what you mean, though. even feedback shouldn't be an obligation, but if you truly like somebody's work, it never hurts to send a tiny message. it really means the world to us when something we adore and are so proud of – creating art, sharing our heart, wanting everybody to see this love – is met with so much joy. and it's fics, you know – we love love love writing, but it's something that can be read. and we want people to read it and we're legit sitting there like "👀 and?? aaaand?" lol it's so nice to know when someone truly appreciates something… ofc you don't have to comment on my stuff, but i promise feedback makes a difference. it's why so many do leave :/ i hope that made sense!! once again, thank you for being respectful!! i love you, too, and am truly grateful that you're here and enjoying my stuff!! <3