#especially when they do so much with other characters.
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tealvenetianmask · 23 hours ago
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I want to talk about a kind of troubling reaction I've been seeing to both Apology Tour and Ghostfuckers among parts of the fandom. The person is usually a reaction youtuber but sometimes someone writing on tumblr or twitter. They say something along the lines of "oh, I'm glad Blitz is being forced to confront his crimes/traumas/pain. This is the only way he will finally heal."
That's not how healing works.
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I know that reaction youtubers don't always have the most developed takes because they're . . . you know . . . reacting in the moment. But I think it's still worth talking about.
I'm going set aside the people who seem to believe that Blitz needs to be punished for his crimes, and address those who genuinely think that getting a tidal wave of his own trauma in his face is what he needs to heal.
There's an attitude in contemporary culture that traumas are something people need to confront. As in, put on a brave face and dive in like a big boy. I blame capitalism, rugged individualism, and all the pieces of media that tie up a character's arc neatly by having them confront their darkest fears and insecurities. It can put a nice bow on things, but it isn't really how healing from trauma works.
Apology Tour:
Blitz gets confronted by a shit ton of people who hate him, at least some of whom are his exes, who he feels he's personally damaged. The decor and party games are all about killing and torturing him. Verosika confronts him about how much he hurt her. Oh, and then he sees the love of his life, who he's just recently pushed away, making out with another guy- proof, in his eyes, that Stolas is happier without him. And this all reflects the underlying fears he already has about who he is as a person (shown to us by Truth Seekers).
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So what was the takeaway? Blitz came to the conclusion that he doesn't always want to be like this (good, but like . . . worth this much pain?). He flops on his steering wheel (relatable). He stops trying to reach out to Stolas (uh oh . . . ). He spends A MONTH spiraling in his own misery and making a mess of all aspects of his life until he's dragged out of it by a caring friend.
The party doesn't empower Blitz to change. It knocks him down and fucking traumatizes him (seriously, images of Stolas from the party show up later in his trauma reel) too much for him to be able to do actually work toward said change. I suspect that if left to his own devices, he would have kept spiraling for quite a while longer. It's one thing to want to change, and another to try to do so alone in the aftermath of a pile-on.
Ghostfuckers
After Blitz drags himself out of his hole of cheesy ice cream and despair to "play sex ghosts" (escapism, again, still knocked down by Apology Tour), infester demon Rolando picks him out as an easy target and assaults him, yes, assaults, with horrific images of his worst traumas and fears.
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Not to state the obvious, but Rolando isn't interested in helping Blitz heal. He's trying to kill the guy. He wants to engulf Blitz in his trauma to the extent where he's consumed by it and loses the will to fight back. And as some excellent posts by others have pointed out already, he very likely would have succumbed if not for Millie's support.
Millie helps Blitz get through the onslaught by telling him about what makes him great and how he's improved her life and showing him love and care. And by literally beating the fucking infester out of him. Because there's someone in him who's hurting him, who's re-traumatizing him against his will. She takes him away from the reel of horrible memories.
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So . . . do I think that confronting traumas can play a role in healing? Sure. But only if it's consensually (which neither of these situations are) and when the person trying to heal is ready. And most likely in small doses. No one's going and successfully confronting every horrible thing that's ever happened to them in one go.
And in my humble opinion, it's not going to work (for anyone, but especially not for Blitz) alone and without a healthy dose of kindness and compassion (both external and internal).
Blitz has a long road ahead of him toward healing, and it's going to be hard work on his part but also require love and support from the people in his life.
In a wonderful moment near the end of Ghosfuckers, Blitz and Millie work together to get Blitz's wrecked van unstuck and push it back through the portal into Hell. I love it because it's so simple and it kind of tells us everything we need to know. This sweet and salty gremlin has a lot of work ahead of him, but he doesn't have to do it alone.
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somewhereincairparavel · 3 days ago
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Annabeth Chase and Jason Grace - two sides of the same coin, an analysis post.
after a long wait, I've finally posted my analysis on jason/annabeth being similar, and mirroring eachother as rivals/potential sibling figures more than percy/jason's 'bro rivalry', based on this post of mine which has crossed over a THOUSAND notes in the last week alone, and I've been getting so many reblogs and comments asking me to expand on my tags in that post and do a full analysis. so here it is. I've been procrastinating this for quite a while now for some reason but I'm glad I'm over my writer's block and I got to articulate my post well enough.
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annabeth and jason have had very minor interactions throughout hoo, but the parallels and similarities in their character is jarringly noticeable, which is why I hoped for a jason/annabeth rivalry and not a percy/jason rivalry. they've both been raised at their respective camps since they were literal kids, they were well versed in their respective fields of knowledge, and were well respected/intimidated in their camps.
let's start off with the lost hero
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when jason first meets annabeth, he says that her eyes were really intimidating and fierce, so right off the bat, we have jason who's pretty put off by annabeth because she very obviously looked angry, especially since she was frustrated about jason's arrival instead of percy, and looked like she could kill jason to get percy back.
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this parallels to a lot when hazel kept going on about how difficult it was to warm up to jason because his eyes were always calculating and cold, and he gave off an untrustworthy vibe, that he'd sacrifice anyone for the sake of the mission.
both annabeth and jason have a certain similar ‘look’ in their eyes, which have nothing to do with the color. they both have the tendency to make people nervous simply with their eyes, because they always look like they're thinking of new things every few seconds. Ironically, jason first perceived annabeth, the way everyone else perceived him. scary and intimidating with an icy glare and hardened eyes.
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They were both said to be ‘studying’ each other in distrust many times throughout. A part of why they didn't trust each other, was, in my opinion, because they embodied their least favorite shared personality trait of each other, secretiveness and guardedness. which is why annabeth got on so well with percy, and jason with leo/piper.
they didn't admire the closed off-ish vibe that they gave eachother. they both needed people who were open and carefree.annabeth said that jason looked like he knew too much information, but chose to keep it all a secret, very similar to her own guardedness from time to time, keeping it a secret and wanting to deal with it silently.
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we also know that annabeth and jason are extremely knowledgeable in greek/roman mythology, they both love debates and were quite passionate about history. they were both assigned architecture projects by the gods themselves as a mark of honor and favour.
moving on to the next most important point, they reminded eachother of the people they missed, causing them to feel resentful.
jason, barely met his sister after they reunited. he was bitter when thalia said he had to go look for percy to help out annabeth with the search. he was aware that thalia and annabeth were childhood friends, getting closer to eachother than jason and thalia ever did. she found a home in luke and annabeth, not even a few months after baby jason was thought to be ‘dead’, that knowledge would've weighed a lot on jason. annabeth became the sibling to thalia grace that jason could never be.
while annabeth? the only thing annabeth thought of, after jason had a face off with his mother's remnant in boo, was the fact that jason, who looks eerily similar to luke, could've experienced the exact same fate as him. luke was jason if he had more wrath and held grudges, jason was luke if he had less anger and resentment. annabeth could connect the dots so easily, and that was truly the moment where she gained immense respect for him.
and, when jason told annabeth that his sister was thalia? she had a very odd sort of expression on her face.
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annabeth also quotes that looking at jason made her feel bitter, because he reminded her of heras exchange, and the fact that she lost percy for months. whenever she looked at jason, she would only see her two childhood friends, a found family that was broken, and a love that was challenged.
whenever jason looked at annabeth, he would be reminded that thalia had a closer contact to her than she did jason, and had to accept that he would never know thalia as much as annabeth does.
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annabeth and jason also appear very confident and sure of themselves, but have second thoughts all the time. they had to put on a fake facade, to live up to their expectations and lineage.
they were both also sort of people pleasers, annabeth couldn't really say no to anyone who asked her for help with things, like carrying the sky for luke especially, because not only where they giving her a chance to execute her knowledge and skill, the thought of helping someone made her genuinely happy. jason also loved seeing people happy, always wanting to say the right thing to satisfy someone, even if it meant he had to sacrifice his own struggles to help them.
fatal flaws:
annabeth’s fatal flaw, is hubris. when you are confident and sure that you can do something, and have a sense of excessive self pride.
and jason's fatal flaw is the temptation to deliberate. hesitation and second guessing, to put it in simpler words.both fatal flaws are so different, yet so similar, and they have both flaws, just in a different viewpoint.
as a child of athena, annabeth appears super confident and even conceding at times because of her wisdom, but at the same time, annabeth had to make sure she was one step ahead of everyone. she had to rethink everything and had to have a plan in her mind all the time, fearing that things wouldn't go smoothly.
she had to hesitate and second guess herself alot, despite her knowledge, like she did when she knew she had to look for the mark of athena. piper and percy had to boost up her confidence with affirmations, to let her know she's on the right path and to just follow her gut. annabeth feels obligated to have a temptation to deliberate, because, as a child of athena, she has to be all knowing and wise, and most definitely cannot fail her mother.
and jason? despite having a very low sense of self esteem and hesitation, he was so used to leading the people who were considered slightly inferior to him in camp jupiter, and basically getting treated like a celebrity for 12 years of his life in camp jupiter, that often, he thought what he did was right, he had his own perception of what a hero should be, and I quote
[“No, no,” Jason said. “I made my choice. You’re not to blame. You don’t owe me anything except to remember what I said. Remember what’s important.” “You’re important,” I said. “Your life!”Jason tilted his head. “I mean… sure. But if a hero isn’t ready to lose everything for a greater cause, is that person really a hero?”He weighted the word person subtly, as if to stress it could mean a human, a faun, a dryad, a griffin, a pandos… even a god”- Tower of Nero]
which was normal, since he had everyone basically following his lead without question as a kid. he's expanded on this in his conversation with piper in mark of athena, where he said he felt weird to suddenly be around people who were either equal/or superior to him in power, and not being in the ‘lead’ particularly.
jason had hubris, but certainly not in a way that you would call it an ego or excessive pride. he was hardwired and brainwashed into having his own perception of what is right and what is wrong, that he thought he was always making good enough decisions, at least from a roman child soldier’s standpoint. [Like when he was okay with not saving nico because it might sabotage their mission, he genuinely didn't think what he said was insensitive until hazel called him out, because he was brought up that way. he thought he was doing the right thing, by prioritising the mission and the duty, first. Like the dutiful roman he was made to be].
both annabeth and jason, have hubris and a temptation to deliberate.
annabeth and jason, also had an extremely difficult time breaking free from the thoughts that their godly parents were always right. It took on alot of disappointments for both of them to stand up to their parents (and not just godly ones, mind you)
they've both had disappointing absent mortal and godly parents with a hostile stepmother involved and monitored with each and every one of their moves. annabeth has had to deal with her stepmother playing the ‘bad cop’ with her father not even coming to her defence, just the way hera came butting into jason's life and giving him terrible memories, taking him away from thalia, with zeus not even caring.
speaking of which, they are both the only demigods who have harboured the most amount of resentment for hera. just the sight of hera pisses them both off, as it hera, stripped off so much time away from annabeth and percy, and memories from jason, which he never permanently got back.
this is sort of irrelevant but I'll add this anyway, in boo, athena also immediately liked jason for calling out zeus's unfairness to apollo, saying something like 'the boy is right' and she gave him an approving/appreciative look for his wisdom, which is pretty rare for athena to say or do to literally any demigod ever. this makes me wonder if she ever saw jason as someone who had some sort of athena legacy in him, which is why she was so pleasantly surprised with him. ugh we could've so gotten jason and annabeth as potential sibling figures bc of how many parallels they have, too bad that the percy/jason rivalry narrative was pushed too hard.
I hope I've drawn enough parallels with their characters, as a lot of you have been looking forward to this post for a while, hopefully this analysis hasnt been underwhelming for you all to read!
@thevoidcaller @karmaajr @onestorytorulethemall @newlyfoundwren @thesummerstorms
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camillelespanayesbtch · 1 day ago
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Seven Devils All Around Me (18+)
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Summary: It isn't your fault you like the feeling of power, the sensation was addictive, and although it never worked out well for those around you, it certainly worked well for you. You weren't to blame that people seldom survived attacking you, it was their fault after all. But you can only run for so long before your misdeeds catch up to you, and where will you be left after? It's dangerous to walk certain paths alone as a young witch.
Content: Eventual smut, graphic depictions of murder and violence, character death, power imbalance, manipulation, addiction, grief, discussion of sexual violence (r receiving) (I will add more as I think of them)
Word Count: 4690
Agatha Harkness x fem!reader
Chapter One
You hum to yourself as you follow the marks you carved into the trees, a hidden path you had created that left those who follow you believing you were the perfect victim, blissfully unaware of the danger that followed you. You could hear the boys talking among themselves, their gleeful snickering as they think about all the things they could do to you now that they had you alone and unaware. Like most evenings, the forest was a cacophony of sound, there wasn’t an inch of space where there was silence, every crevasse had sound, even the ants clicked to one another to inform the other of the crumbs of bread that were left abandoned on the floor of the community hall that hosted giants. The leaves crunch underfoot, small twigs snapping as you step on them, continuing to hum the tune until you come to a clearing in the forest.
There was a space where no leaves were, a perfect circle that had been made over years of the same trick, black as the night sky is dark. “Look boys,” Douglas says with a grin, “She’s made a spot for fucking, just for us.” He moves closer to you, the others surrounding you as well, all of them giving each other encouraging looks. They didn’t believe the stories about boys going missing because every coven had tales like that, even the girls were told tales about their powers being taken when lured to walk the witch’s road, but everyone believed that it was just the danger of the road and not one of their own doing it. “I wonder if her tits are as big as her top makes them look,” Douglas says, advancing on you quickly, his hands twitching by his side as he thinks about tearing your shirt from your body.
“I’ve seen them through her window when she changes,” Clint says, “They’re small, no bigger than a handful, but at least they’re perky.” He cracks his knuckles, his eyes glinting dangerously. This wasn’t his first time taking what he wanted, and it wouldn’t be his last, just like the other boys he was with- if he sees something he wants, he takes it. His mother did raise him to be respectful towards women, especially those in the coven, but she always spoke about you as being the exception. You were the freak of the group, the one people whispered about, warned the kids to stay away from least you corrupt them. So, really, what he and his friends were about to do wasn’t a bad thing, it was deserved. “We should take pictures and add them to the wall.”
“We should take pictures and add them to the wall,” you mimic, turning to face them. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to keep trophies? Or was that too much for your tiny little boy-brains to comprehend?” You run your fingers through your hair, letting out a sigh as you shake a few knots loose. You were hungry, and these boys would be enough to last you a few weeks. Sure, they weren’t as powerful as the elders, too jumped up on the testosterone coursing through their bodies to focus on mastering the craft, instead relying on brute force to get things done. “Didn’t mommy teach you better? Or even your fathers? No, I suppose not. No, daddy left you boys behind, didn’t he? Went off to go fuck some young maiden the next town over,” you make a vulgar gesture, thrusting your hips before laughing when you see the group clench their fists in anger. “Oh no, did I hurt your feelings? What’re you gonna do? Blast me?”
It would only take one. It only ever takes one, but they didn’t know that. Of course they didn’t know that they barely knew how to groom themselves let alone see the signs of a trap, to even see that sometimes there is truth in the tales they have been told since childhood. You mightn’t have believed the ones about the Purple Witch, but you wouldn’t deny that there is something alluring about her. The ability to take someone’s powers? You wondered what it felt like, if it was as addictive as watching people burn, using their own powers to cause their deaths. “Lucas and Clint, hold her down,” Douglas orders, his eyes burning into yours.
The two boys he orders raise their hands, their magic shooting from their hands and wrapping around your wrists. They both were smirking until they see the lopsided grin on your face, a darkness settling into your eyes. You breathe in deep through your nose, tilting your head back up to the sky as your eyes drift shut, feeling the warmth starting to spread through your body and bloom out from your palms, “Oh boys,” you exhale. “Silly, stupid, little boys.” Your head rolls forward and you open your eyes to look at them, a fire burning in your eyes that makes them take a step back. “Didn’t you hear the stories? Didn’t your mother tell you not to go into the woods at night?”
“She’s just- She’s just bluffing,” Douglas stutters, “She’s just trying to scare us.” He puffs his chest out in false bravado before moving closer to you, his hands coming up to tear the front of your blouse open, but he hisses in pain, pulling his hands back. Your body had grown hot to the touch, as though he had just put his hands over the hot embers of a campfire, “What trickery is this?”
“You haven’t figured it out, have you?” You yank your hands free of Clint and Lucas’ magic, grabbing a handful of Douglas’ shirt, and pulling him so his body was against yours, a feral grin spreading across your face. “Smell that?” You lean in, taking a deep breath as the scent of burning fabric starts to fill the air, “Maybe you can feel it. It’s getting hot, isn’t it? I wonder if I’ll see eyes explode this time like popcorn.” You stare at him intensely, your hands glowing like magma as you start to cook him from the inside out, feeling his energy seeping out of him and into you. You let out a content sigh a the sensation, watching as his eyes go wide, his skin turning a deep red before starting to melt from his muscles and bones. He cries out in agony, trying to get away from you, to put the fire out inside of him but it was of no use, and soon he falls to the ground, his body quickly going up in flames. “Now,” you smile and turn to look at the other boys who were looking on in horror, “Who’s next?”
“You’re a monster,” Clint says, clenching his fists, “He didn’t even do anything to you! We were just playing!” He was quick to attack you, seemingly forgetting what he had just witnessed you do to his friend. You eagerly drink his energy up, your body glowing like a reactor before his body turns into barbecue. He claws at his clothes, trying to remove the flaming fabric from his body as he writhes on the ground, his screams drowning out the music of songbirds. You wonder if the woods would muffle the sound so it didn’t carry to the houses that lived along the edge of it, that the neighbors wouldn’t have their windows open to let the warm spring breeze in. Then again, if you didn’t want them to hear, you simply shouldn’t be doing what you are, but you couldn’t help yourself, could you? You enjoy it too much. You enjoy luring men into the woods, using their own powers to burn them alive as some sort of penance for all the women burned before you because their power was seen as a threat.
You take a few breaths to calm yourself, looking at your hands, they were turning black, tendrils creeping up your forearm and tickling your inner-elbow. This happened every time, the only evidence of your crimes. They were easy to hide though, you wore long-sleeves, and had a pair of gloves that your mother gave you to protect you from the judgmental gaze of your coven. Your mother wasn’t consciously aware of what you were doing, thinking you were just going into the woods to practice your craft, but she couldn’t deny it was suspicious that boys kept going missing whenever you did.
The remaining boys fall quickly, you wave your hands, letting out a hot blast of fire that turns their remains to ash. You knew the rain would disperse the ashes, returning them to the earth and helping to keep the forest alive, although your circle never grew back- the grass has remained dead and black for years. You were in your twenties now, and you had been doing this since you were sixteen. You do the buttons back up on your blouse then pull your sleeves down, doing the cuff buttons up so the sleeves wouldn’t go out of place. You flick your hair from your face, a smile settling on your features as you start to head back, humming to yourself once more.
As you walk, you stop occasionally to pick some flowers for your mom, making a bouquet for her. Your father wasn’t around to do this for her, not that he had done such thoughtful things when he was alive, that had always been your thing. You loved making your mom smile because it meant she wasn’t worrying about anything which had become her normal. If she wasn’t worrying about you getting in trouble, she was worrying about the coven being run out of town, and if she wasn’t worrying about that, she was worrying about taxes which only seemed to go up every year. It’s not that you couldn’t afford the taxes, she had been around for centuries, she had more than enough money to cover them, but it was still an unnecessary stress in her life that she simply did not need. If you could get away with it, you would burn the tax collector alive, maybe even roast him over a fire like you would toast a marshmallow.
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” A familiar voice asks, disappointment evident in her tone. “I tell them- I tell them every meeting that it isn’t you, that my daughter would never bring harm to her coven, and every time you go out and prove me wrong.”
You look up from the flowers you were examining, your features falling, “Mama… I- They attacked me,” you explain. “I was just coming here to practice, like you always want me to. And they followed me, taunting me, telling me all the horrible things they were going to do to me.” You turn your head slightly, just enough to see the open area out the corner of your eye that was a few hundred feet away by now before looking back at your mom. You try to smile, holding the sad looking bouquet out for her, “I picked you flowers. Your favorites. I know you like having fresh flowers in the house because you like when the bees-“
“Enough,” she cuts you off, “Enough,” she repeats, softer this time. She walks closer to you, a sadness on her face as she gently takes your free hand in hers- your skin was like charcoal, and still hot to the touch like the furnace in winter. Her heart aches painfully in her chest, why was her only child like this? Had she done something wrong? Those questions hurt her; how could she think so poorly of you? She loves you dearly, she would do anything for you, absolutely anything for you, why couldn’t you do this one thing for her? Her touch was soft, cooling your burning skin as she runs her fingers over it, your skin slowly turning back to your normal shade. She turns your hand over so your palm was facing her, running her finger in a circle on your palm, a small smile tugging on her lips, “Round and round the garden,” she whispers, “Went the teddy bear, one step,” she walks her finger up your forearm, healing as she goes, “two step,” another step onto your bicep, “Tickle you under there,” she says and gently tickles your underarm, a soft giggle escaping her. “You used to squeal whenever I did that to you as a toddler.”
You can’t help the quiet giggle you let out, unaware of the tears spilling from your eyes, “Mama,” you whisper back, “I’m not a little kid anymore.” She gives your arm a squeeze at that, looking pained by the reminder. You rest your hand over hers, looking remorseful immediately, “I know- I know I’m still your little girl. You still make my boo boo’s better.” You look down at your hands, they were no longer black as tar, and you could see the blue and purple of your veins on the backs of them instead of a deep red that glowed against the black. You felt a knot form in your stomach, “They’re gonna kill me, aren’t they, mama?” You ask her quietly, a waver in your voice. “For what I’ve done- They’re gonna burn me.”
Your mom blinks back tears but it was futile, the salty liquid running down her cheeks, “When they find out,” she replies softly, “Yes. They will.” She raises her hand to tenderly stroke your cheek, and as always, you lean into her touch. Her thumb brushes against your rosy skin, wiping away any tear that dared to fall. She didn’t know how long you would both have together, whether she could wash your hair and braid flowers into it, or whether now was the only time you two would get. “Why couldn’t you stop?”
“I can’t help it, mama, you know that,” you answer, your eyes closing as you relax into her touch. Her hands never caused the same pain and suffering that yours have, they have always healed and protected. There was never a moment where she didn’t help someone, where she turned them away when they showed up to the door pleading for her to make their sick child better. There was always a spare bed for the child or adult to recover, your mother watching over them during the night to ensure their condition didn’t worsen. You. You had always been the one to hurt, to harm, to inflict suffering and pain. Your mother, try as she might to get you to do things for the betterment of the coven such as burning the fields to return the nutrients to the earth, or helping start the bonfires for when there was a community barbecue, even trying to get you to take out the wolves that threatened the farm animals, but it never satiated you.
It wasn’t until you turned sixteen did it become a problem, but she brushed it off because you had been terribly bullied, she kept brushing it off when the first group of boys went missing. She had moved you both after that, found another coven. Six months of peace before it happened again. Every time, you would come home with blackened skin and a bouquet of flowers. She never had to worry about running out of dried flowers for her potions, the basement was full of them, your peace offerings to her. You always were so sincere in your apologies, and she believed you every time, why wouldn’t she? “They deserved it,” you add, “They were going to hurt me.”
“Not every single boy was out to hurt you, surely, sweetheart. What about Tommy? He was always so kind to you, he tutored you. You were friends.”
Tommy had been your friend two moves ago, you two had bonded over being excluded from most of the college class you were enrolled in, even the lecturer refused to acknowledge you in class. You both were good students, handing your assignments in on time and not once even asking for an extension. You thought you were just friends, you told him you only liked women, and he told you he was okay with it. You had gone over to his house one afternoon to study for an upcoming exam, the two of you were in his room on his bed reading notes when he had asked you if you’d ever kissed anyone before. The question made your skin crawl, “No,” you had answered, “I haven’t.” He got this look in his eyes at that answer, his hand had come up to turn your head to face him before he leaned in to kiss you, his tongue forced its way into your mouth, pocking and prodding your throat. You had frozen; your eyes wide as he assaulted you. It wasn’t until he had pulled back did the anger kick in. You don’t really remember much of what happened, only running out of the house as the fire department showed up to extinguish the flames, two of the firefighters checking over you for injuries. You had told your mother what happened, what he did, and she had brushed it off, saying it was just how it was done- nobody needed to ask for permission to kiss, it was spontaneous. You had cried in your room that night, you didn’t understand why your mom didn’t see why it was wrong of him to do that to you. She knew you liked women, why on earth would you ever want some man to kiss you?
“We- You know what he did to me, mama. He hurt me. He hurt me,” you tell her, more tears falling onto your cheeks, “He knew I didn’t like him like that. Every single one of them deserved it.” That wasn’t true, there had been a couple of groups you took out because you enjoyed the thrill of it, the screams, the feeling of power that filled your system. Even thinking about it now made you giddy, your pupils dilating as though a drug was coursing its way through your system. “You have to believe me, mama, please.”
Her hand falls from your face, “We should head back. You need a shower, and I’d like to braid your hair.” Her voice was cold, the older woman turning her back on you, not even taking the flowers from your hand. She usually hummed with you, the same song she sang to you as a child, but tonight the only sound was the owls hooting in the forest. You wipe your eyes on your sleeve, holding the flowers close to you as you follow along behind her. You hum quietly to yourself, looking up into the trees to see the glowing eyes of birds watching you. There was something comforting about them being so attentive, like they were looking out for the inhabitants that called the woods their home, even as they swoop on the mice that scamper across the leafy floor. It was the balance of things, and even as they eat the mice, they too would return to the earth and continue the cycle anew.
When you get home, your mother sits on a chair and has you sit on the floor between her legs as she starts to braid your hair, her fingers working deftly. She carefully takes the dried flowers and works them into your hair, willing the protection to keep you safe when the leaders come knocking. Only now does she hum, the strands of gold that hold the flowers in place starting to glow. She new deep down this day would come, that moving towns, cities, states would only get you so far because the tales that were told about a witch of destruction would catch up to you, that one coven was going to be smart enough to figure things out and realize it is one of their own. “You’ve always had such beautiful hair,” she murmurs, adding another flower to the braid and tying it into place, “Ever since you left my body, you had a mop of hair on your head. Whenever you woke in the morning, your hair was all over the place, and it would take so much water to tame it.”
“I’ve seen the photos,” you reply with a giggle, your eyes closed as you relax, enjoying the calming sensation of your mom braiding your hair. There had been times she had yelled at you for not brushing your hair, threatening to cut it all off if you didn’t want to take care of it. She had always apologized afterwards though, blaming her anger on something that had been said in a coven meeting as she carefully brushed the knots and tangles from your hair. “How long do we have?”
Your mother doesn’t look up from your hair, the wards she had set around the house were starting to crumble, only meant to slow them down, “Not long, my dear,” she picks the hairtie up and ties the braid off, securing a crystal in with it. “There,” she says, running her hand lightly over her work before you turn to look at her, your eyes holding the light of a thousand flames, “My beautiful girl. If you survive, you know you must never return.” Her hand caresses your cheek, her eyes held the river of life which you always loved looking into because you could feel the cool refreshing water wash over you, keeping you calm.
“I can’t leave you behind, mama. I can’t- I promised you that I would look after you,” you rest your hand over hers, they were the perfect balance. It always made you laugh how whenever her hands were cold, yours were burning hot, and on the rare occasion hers were warm, yours were colder than the glacier high in the mountains. You didn’t want to leave her behind, she would be an outcast unless she participated in your execution which she was unlikely to do because despite everything you have put her through, she still loves you and you knew there was nothing stronger than a mother’s love. “I can’t go without you.”
“You have to, sweetheart. You must find your own path, in a coven that will understand you,” she pulls back from you when the front door flies open, standing up she calls out to them. “She’s in here!”  She looks at you, pain visible in her eyes, “She killed them! I saw it with my own eyes. No daughter of mine shall harm our coven.”
You felt your spirit break, unable to realize she was doing this for a reason, to keep herself safe, to keep you safe from seeing her harmed. “Mama-“ You start, struggling against the witches as they bind you with their magic, “Mama, please,” you beg, “Please don’t let them do this to me. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to do it, mama.” The women haul you to your feet, the magic tightening around your wrists behind your back, cutting off the circulation to your hands.
“I saw the look in your eyes, Yn. You enjoyed it.” She follows the other women out of the house, the path to the stake lined with other members of the coven holding burning torches. “I’ll bind her to the stake,” your mother tells the women, “To make up for what I have done. I have let this coven down too many times before, I won’t let it happen again.” Her magic felt different this time as it wraps itself around you, your hands pulled taut behind the stake, the cold no longer soothing, instead it felt icy, the frost burning your skin. She couldn’t look you in the eyes, she didn’t want you to see how much this was hurting her, and she didn’t want to see how betrayed you looked as she prepared to watch her daughter burn.
“I never thought I’d see the day, Theodora,” the elder-witch comments, “Preparing to burn your own flesh and blood after so long of defending her. Had this evening turned out differently, you would be on that stake along with her, there is no doubt about that.” She gestures for the others to surround you, a group of six women all part of the higher counsel, and every single one of them deeming you guilty. There was no room in their coven for someone like you, someone so dangerous, someone without remorse. Were they unbiased in their judgement? Four of them were not, all having lost a son to you. The other two had daughters, but even they feared that one day your hatred would spread to women. Although whenever their daughters had caught a glimpse of you, their cheeks turned as red as a rose, and a carefree giggle escaped them which they thought was arguably worse. “Get into position, Theodora. It’s time.”
“Mama please,” you beg, “Please. I didn’t mean to. I can’t control it. Please.” You look at her, desperate for her to believe you one last time, “Please, mama. Tell them. Tell them that I didn’t know what I was doing. That I didn’t mean to. That they hurt me too.”
Your mother wanted to stroke your cheek one last time, to wipe your tears away but she couldn’t do that, not anymore. She breathes you in, inhaling the floral scent of the shampoo you used before stepping down from the platform and joining the other women encircling you. “I should have let you burn the first time,” is all she says.
The elder-witch gives a nod, everyone raising their hands in preparation, “Begin!” She commands, their powers shooting out of their hands and hitting you full force, a pained scream tearing itself from your throat. It felt like your insides were being roasted, your skin prickling from the heat. It was agony, you had never felt anything like this before and you wanted it to stop.
“Please!” You scream, your head falling back against the stake, “Stop! I can’t-“ You could feel that familiar sensation starting to build in your stomach, and it wouldn’t be long until it broke free. “Mama- Mama run!” Your face was wet with tears, your head tipping forward, your eyes making contact with your mom’s. She couldn’t run, you both knew this, but you hoped this last time she would break the rules for you. The binding around your wrist starts falter, the women behind you noticing it.
“Elder- Her bindings! She’s going to break free!” One of them exclaims yet she does not stop her attack on you, none of them do because they hoped that if they continued, you would finally burn.
The elder-witch encourages them to push through it, “She is glowing! We are close! Keep going!” Your mother knew what was about to happen, finally she meets your eyes, mouthing an apology to you before the blast happens, all the women letting out agonizing screams as the fall to the ground ablaze. You slump somewhat against the wooden stake, your hair blowing in the draft created from the fires, your skin flush a deep red and your hands glowing brighter than the sun. You didn’t want to hurt them. You didn’t mean to, you begged for them not to do this. You warned them you couldn’t control it. You were going to wallow in that feeling until you remembered your mother. You look around frantically, counting the bodies: seven. Your mother-
“Mama-“ You jump down from the pedestal and rush over to where she had last been, sinking to your knees as you desperately try and put out the flames. She was unrecognizable, her skin blackened and burned. “Mama, I’m sorry,” you sob, cradling her burnt body close to you. She was the only person to look out for you, the only one to have stood by your side, and you had repaid her by killing her. Your tears drip from your chin and onto her corpse, the tears evaporating before they even touch her skin. You look down at her, “I’m sorry.”
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dduane · 2 days ago
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I just read the part where Kirk experiences the Enterprise's point of view in The Wounded Sky to someone else, where she sees the crew as children she is training up to the Great Desire of exploration for exploration's sake, especially Jim. His reaction, essentially: "That was really pretty. ....And then he blows her up."
I hadn't thought about that before! I checked the copyright date, and it looks like The Wounded Sky came out a year before The Search for Spock, so you were writing without knowing that sacrifice would eventually happen.
How did you feel about that? Do you wish that writing decision had been made differently? (If, as a Trek writer, you're allowed to comment on other Trek writers' choices!)
You know, I tend not to think a whole lot about such issues. First of all, because (in the long run) it gets you nowhere in particular that's useful. And secondly, because it's not a thing that, as a Trek writer in any medium except film, you have the slightest power to change.
Now, at this end of time I think we can safely say that no one's going to hire me on to write a Trek film. And also that no one at that end of the creative spectrum is going to pay the slightest attention to anything I say, either. Both of those situations are just What's So, and neither of them bothers me. (Since I have universes of my own to manage at the moment, and that's where my attention properly lies.) So as regards my opinions about other writers' work, I'm pretty much off the hook.
If I had been on screenwriting duty for that film, would there be things I'd have wanted to do differently? Hell yeah. From the premise up. But the important thing here is: would those things necessarily have worked better on the screen / with the audience? Impossible to tell. And speaking as someone repeatedly given permission to work in someone's universe, the main thing to be aware of is the expectation that your chief responsibility is to do what best serves the characters and the IP of which they're part. (There's a post over at Out of Ambit with a lot more of my thoughts on the subject:)
The other thing to remember is that, though I've worn the Canonical Hat in my time, novel work is by definition non-canonical. Doing it, you are at all times working with the understanding that the licensor rarely views your work as anything better than a corporate side hustle—a way for the IP to make some cash on the side—and will ignore you and the stuff you've created unless given pressing reasons to do otherwise. (Such as when they might make some unexpected money off it... at which point you remind yourself as forcibly as necessary that what you did is Work For Hire; they own it, lock, stock and barrel, and you should not realistically expect to be given any credit.)
And, if you understand the rules and enjoy the work enough, all of this is okay. The reward is not in making a lot of money doing it, or even in having aspects of your work openly assumed into canon. The reward lies in being allowed to contribute to a given universe in public (and, yeah, getting paid for it by the licensor). It's not payback: it's payforward. And you're left an astonishing amount of freedom to bring your vision to that universe. (Sometimes... as one colleague has McCoy say... you have to be "very, very careful" to get away with it. But it can be done.)
The truth is that even in the 1980s, I was sharing this level of playing-in-a-universe with a goodish cohort of editors and writers: a big roomful at least. Now I'm sharing it (retroactively speaking) with hundreds of them. With the best will in the world, even in the 80's the licensors (as regarded film) couldn't have realistically polled/listened to all of us regarding our creative opinions about the screenplay end of things. As for what that'd look like nowadays... I'll leave you to your own deductions. 😏
Anyway, thanks for the question. It's always nice to know that there are people who want to know what you think. 😊
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sleepy-aletheas · 1 day ago
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Honestly, Sumeru falling into a self-made apocalypse because of their curiosity and hubris is inevitable, since all the nations struggle with their ideals/rules in one way or another. It's fascinating. The game is giving us so many puzzle pieces and leave so much space for everything to go wrong, I'm on the edge of my seat every single time, even if I see the trainwreck coming from afar.
(Tbh I wouldn't be surprised if they would fight for Mehrak and Karkata, and possibly other mechanical life forms, because the power of friendship and "what differs humanity from others?" philosophy would probably be dragged across it all to make a point)
On a side note:
It's interesting how much the 4* characters catch narrative strays and somehow get The Trauma™ pilled up on their plates on the daily, especially if they're meant to be a 5*'s narrative foil (or mirror, in this situation).
On one hand it's nice to see that all the characters are cared for and actually have meaning and worth to the story (when will Kujo Sara and Xinyan return from the Shadow Realm ;-;), but damn, do some of them deserve a vacation and a raise. And Kaveh is at the top of the list just for the shenanigans he's dragged into (by his own machination or some coincidence).
I think one of the funniest things about the Sabzeruz event is that the devs choose to go with Candace, Traveler, and Paimon having a whole "Ooh, two mysterious men are going into an alley to have a 'private' conversation; they must be bad guys!" only to then go "Oh just kidding, it was only Alhaitham and Kaveh doing typical Alhaitham and Kaveh things."
Except the "Alhaitham and Kaveh" thing in question this time was talking about Mehrak, a sentient robot that Kaveh built using absolutely forbidden technology, and which he then whole-heartedly willed would develop a consciousness of its own, violating one of the central taboos of his nation's governing agency, committing what amounts to an inherent and extreme felony punishable by law.
Alhaitham and Kaveh: Listen, we're not bad guys discussing illegal activity here. We're just two men having a private, personal conversation. Happens all the time.
Paimon, Candace, and Traveler: Oh cool, they're not doing a crime; they're just gay.
But they were, in fact, doing a crime.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago
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Sum of All 4
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Steve Rogers
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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Your legs feel empty, like there’s no blood flowing beneath your waist. You walk beside Rogers, feeling as if you might fall on your face at any time. That’s probably not a good idea seeing as you’ve already knocked out twice within the last hour or two. 
He stops and steps ahead of you. He points to a door before he pushes it open, “in here.” 
You enter as he waits. For a moment, you worry it could be a sinister trick. That he’ll slam the door and lock you in. But why would he do that? Well, why would he beat a man in the middle of the street? 
Thinking of it again, you feel nauseous. 
You look around the room. There’s a desk with folders stacked on it. The chair looks like it was manufactured during your great grandfather’s war and the rug can’t be much newer. The curtains are damask and the walls are real hardwood. 
“It’s... nice,” you say, “vintage. Looks like the floor’s been refinished.” 
“You’re not here to discuss the decor,” he retorts. 
“Of course,” you agree as you twiddle your fingers. “What exactly am I here for, er, sir?” 
“You’re an accountant.” He states. 
“I am.” 
He sighs and crosses to the desk. You cautiously follow. You could tip over all over again. 
“Sir, do you mind if I sit?” You ask. 
He just waves a hand toward the chair. You thank him and gratefully claim the seat. Who knew fainting was so exhausting? 
“Man named Warren. I need you to tally it all up. Tell me what you find.” He explains.  
“Alright, so I’m balancing his ledger,” you nod. 
“Sure,” Rogers sniffs and tucks his hands into his pockets. He backs up and paces across the end of the rug. “You need some water? You gonna check out again?” 
“Oh, I have some,” you put your briefcase on the desk and pull out your water bottle. “Thank you. That’s super kind. I can, uh, start on all this.” 
He turns back to you, “fine.” 
You smile as best you can as his hand runs up his lapel and draws your attention. Again, his knuckles fill you with queasiness. The bruises are the cherry on top of this whole messed up situation. 
He pulls his hand back and looks at it. You realise he caught you staring. You clear your throat. 
“Looks pretty bad,” he remarks. 
“Um, yeah. Pretty bad,” you agree softly. “Look like they’re swelling. Could probably use some ice.” 
He examines his hand further and clicks his tongue, “probably.” He drops his arm. “Well, get to work. Don’t got time to waste.” 
“Got it,” you assure him and reach for a folder. 
He goes and you glance up right as he disappears through the door. He might be gone but your anxiety lingers. These are dangerous men, this is a dangerous place. 
While you wouldn’t want an old lady like Geraldine caught up in all of this, why did it have to be you? It’s just like Mr. Brenner to be tangled up with criminals. And now you’re looking through promissory letters and gum wrappers with scribbles on them. This isn’t going to be easy, especially without a computer. 
Rogers returns. He sits in the leather armchair near the window. He holds a bundle wrapped in a cloth against his hand. It must be ice. 
You pull out a receipt. Half of it is illegible beneath the crimson stain. Little droplets trail over the numbers you can kind of make out. Oh. 
“Is that blood?” You ask out loud, then feel yourself plunging forward. 
Your head hits the desk. You’re a bit foggy but still awake. You gurgle and push yourself up. You fall stiffly back against the chair and it lurches with your weight. 
Rogers appears across the desk from you. You stare at him as you grip the armrest and blow out between your lips. He squints as he comes around to your side. 
“Hey, sweetheart, stay with me,” he grabs your chin and you whimper. “Eh, don’t--” 
He taps your cheek with his fingers. It’s a gentle gesture. His hand is cold from the ice. 
“I’m good,” your murmur. “I just... I’m not a violent person.” You carefully touch his wrist and he lets you go. “Not that I’m saying anything about you. Or what happened earlier. I’m just... look at me, right? Just an accountant.” 
He nods.  
“You think I overreacted,” he intones. 
“I didn’t say... it’s none of my business, right?” You move aside the bloody receipt and wheel closer to the desk. “Numbers are my business.” 
He hums, “sure.” 
You concentrate, or pretend to, on the folder before you. There’s a lot to sort out, and you mean, more than the clutter. Your mind is racing and you can’t quite decipher anything you’re reading with the fear coursing through you. 
“I’ll be back,” he says abruptly as he backs away. “Don't leave this room.” 
You don’t need him to give the command. You wouldn’t dare wander around this place on your own. You nod, “I won’t, sir.” 
He spins on his heel and struts across the office. You only look up as he gets to the door. He leaves and you lean back in the chair. You can’t let your panic take over. The quicker you get through this, the quicker you can get out of here, and hopefully, never ever come back. 
You set yourself straight, fixing your posture, and set to your mission. You might not have the most experience, but you’re determined and you do know what you’re doing. All those places that never replied or sent you those template rejections, they have no idea. 
You hunker down, filling the margins in the ledger, row by row. You are enthralled the more you do. It’s like a story unfolding before you. Dates, amounts, locations. Huh, well, this might be some bad news. You really don’t want to be the one to deliver it. 
Don’t be too eager. That’s only the first folder. You scratch down another number and flinch as something lands on the desk. 
You sit up and stare at the paper bag. Rogers watches you across the desk. Your brows twitch in confusion. He huffs and opens the top of the bag. 
“Figured you might not pass out if you eat something,” he takes out a wrapped bagel and holds it out. “Cream cheese, sesame seed.” 
“Oh, yum, I mean, thanks,” you accept it. “That’s really... considerate.” 
“I can be,” his eyes narrow. 
“Of course, I wasn’t saying... anything. Just thank you,” you slowly unwrap the bagel. 
He takes out his own and sits in the armchair. You peel back the paper and take a quarter of the bagel. You bite into it, careful not to get any crumbs on the desk. 
It might not be the best day, very close to the worst, but you can’t complain for a free meal. 
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ghostbite0 · 21 hours ago
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I freakign.LOVE how much tengen and his wives love each other. With the whole arranged marriage it would be so easy for them just to live around each other and file their taxes together and leave it at that. But no. Tengen cares for his wives. He loves them as if he chose them himself. He protects them and tells them to put themselves first. He's completely faithful and loyal to them. They love him. They protect him and listen to him and protect themselves. And I love when they have relationships with each other too, where they don't just feel like accessories to tengen. I love fanfics where they tag the wives as bi because they love each other too!
With how they were all raised it especially would've been easy to just follow along with it. Force the girls to carry his kids and disregard them as objects. Follow tengen around, doting on him and being big tiddy house wives. But no, they broke away from all that. Tengen loves dressing and acting like a slut, but it's not because he was forced to. He just loves looking hot and being fawned over and what a coincidence! His wives think he's hot and love fawning over him!
Tengen isnt my favorite character but just love love love him as a character. I've never posted a take before and I'm sure someone's said all of this but idk it's just been brewing inside of me and since we're doing takes I just threw it in if I'm so dead wrong that it's funny you can tell me to kill myself btw
anon writing this take
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no because you're so right. i love tengen's character and i wish people hyped him up more. that man loves his wives and loves his family and loves the hashira so much its insane. and i love his self confidence so much. ppl claim hes egotistical and maybe it is but you do see that side ofhim where he does have a lot of self doubt and feels he is deserving of hell and is the weakest hashira. he beats himself up constantly. but hes wonderful and i love him
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saturncoyote · 3 days ago
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After much work i have finally written down my analysis on the fictional character Creek from hit children's movie Trolls 2016, open Read More on your own discretion because this shit is about to get long
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Alright let's start with a small summary for the folks that have never watched a Trolls movie and don't really know anything about Creek outside of the plethora of art i've made about him
Creek is one of the movie's side characters and secondary villain, he is Poppy's (the main character) friend and acts as a short-of twist villain (i'll explain that 'short-of' later,). Although shown to be a stereotypical nature-loving hippie he later betrays his friends and everyone he's ever known as he sells out the location of their village to Bergens, a race who 20 years ago used to keep the pop trolls in a large cage and would eat them once a year during a holiday called Trollstice.
He is first introduced when Branch (the movie's second protagonist) is confronting Poppy about her decision to throw a party, arguing that this could attract the attention of the Bergens, this is also where my first point about Creek's character begins First thing to notice is that, unlike what some people would like you to believe, Creek is NOT the only troll in Poppy's friend group (the Snack Pack) to be dismissive towards Branch, if anything Poppy herself is the only one in the group that seems to want to give him a chance ("i think everyone deserves to be happy"). Creek also shows up late to the conversation, only appearing once Branch escalates the situation by throwing Poppy's party invitation to the floor and stomping on it. You could easily argue that, in Creek's perspective, he is only doing what a good friend should do and protecting his friend from someone who is being cruel towards them, and although Branch has a GOOD reason to be upset and we later find out more about his backstory, there is no reason for us to believe that Creek or even the rest of the Snack Pack know anything about his situation, to THEM Branch is nothing but a party pooper who actively chooses to stay miserable ("some folks just don't want to be happy")
One point that i sometimes see that i would like to snip in the bud as soon as possible is that Creek doesn't truly care about his friends, especially Poppy, and is only using her to get something out of her (what exactly ? well we don't know, we could especulate that since she is the princess, he may want to use her for her status, possibly wanting to become royalty himself, but we're not here for that), the reason i bring this up now is because of the scene that follows the interaction with Branch, where Creek is the first one to notice that Poppy is still upset about the results of the conversation, not only that but he doesn't seem too happy about it himself
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It would have been extremelly easy to animate him smiling or looking smug after Branch storms off, but that doesn't happen, he even glances down at the ground before looking towards Poppy, which is when he attempts to cheer her up. This small scene ALONE already leads me to believe that he truly does care, and although his attempts at cheering her up aren't exactly the best nor the most productive ("tune out his negative vibrations Poppy, they're toxic") he is still trying.
However we do not get enough time to find out more about his relationship with Poppy outside of this very moment as the next scene in the movie is the party and their imminent capture by the Chef Bergen, this is where i'd like to remind you that i called him only a "short-of" twist villain. For a twist villain to truly work we first need to understand why this character is considered to be a "good guy", and their relationship with the protagonist, so that the incoming reveal of them being the antagonist has a impact, not only on the other characters, but the audience themselves. The thing about Creek is that we don't GET that insight into his relationship with Poppy, they interact TWICE before the reveal, and one of those interactions is Poppy attempting to save him from being carried away by a Bergen, therefore the "twist" itself falls flat... but what if i told you that was done on purpose by Dreamworks ?
Before the existence of Creek there was another character who was meant to take his place in the storyline, and her name was Miss Guffin
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According to concept art, Miss Guffin was originally going to be Poppy's mentor, and be captured by the Chef Bergen, and much like Creek she would sell out the other trolls as an attempt to save herself. Now that would have had a much bigger impact, not only on the audience as they realise that the respectful elderly character was a selfish coward at heart, but for Poppy as she would have had a much closer relationship with Guffin as her mentor. So why was she changed ? It's simple really, she was just too likeable.
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Creek, by design, was created to be unlikeable, not only so that his reveal wouldn't upset the audience, but so that you wouldn't feel pity about his eventual demise. THIS is what i mean when i refer to him as a character "doomed by the narrative", he only exists because a much more appealing character had to be turned down for the sole reason of not upsetting those who watch the movie, he would never have been allowed to have a closer relationship with Poppy, because that would have given the viewer a emotional attachment to him, and we can't have that. Creek is a tragic character in the sense that he was destined to be the traitor, not only a traitor but a unredeemable one, and i understand why that is, there was never going to be enough time in the movie to give him a satisfying redemption, and it would have thrown off the entire flow of the story, killing him off was a much easier choice than trying to squeeze an awkward redemption at the very end, but that doesn't stop me from wishing that there WAS more. His fate feels unfair to me, as his only crime is being kind of a dickhead, and it's hard to blame him for his decision to sell out Pop Village when his only other option wasn't much better, so let's talk about that next.
In the next scene where we see Creek, him and the rest of the Snack Pack have been put in a cage by the Chef, this is where i'd like to point out that his first reaction to this predicament is to try and get everyone else to stay calm ("Woah, woah ! Everyone, we must all remain calm") This scene leads directly to the one where he gets nearly eaten by King Gristle, and when i say nearly i mean it, he is shoved INTO his mouth and assumed dead by everyone except for Poppy, who is only holding out hope that he is still alive. Of course we later find out that he is indeed, not dead, but that is only because he clung to Gristle's uvula causing him to choke and spit him out. The way we find out that he is alive is through Gristle himself, who reveals to Bridget that he has him locked inside his cape's clasp
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Notice how little space he has in there, i'd say barely any to move let alone breathe, as he lets out a desperate gasp just as the clasp is opened. We do not know how much time has passed since he escaped being nearly eaten alive, but we can estimate it has to have been at least a few hours, as quite a few events happen between the formerly mentioned scene and this one. We do NOT get to see what happens between him, Gristle and the Chef during that time, which means we can only ESPECULATE why he was put in there in the first place, so allow me to do just that:
- Firstly, we do not know if Creek agreed right away to the Chef's request to reveal the location of the village, for all we know he might have declined to do so, and putting him into a small claustrophobic space was a way to give him that final push. - However this could have also been a way to stop him from escaping and telling the other trolls of the Bergen's plan, but i fail to see why they would have had to resort to such a, let's be honest here, barbaric method of keeping him put, when a normal cage would have done the job just as well, perhaps the Chef wanted to make sure he wouldn't change his mind. - Thirdly, this could have been a way to have someone keep an eye on him as the Chef busied herself with other things, essentially making Gristle the guard to Creek's prison No matter what option you decide makes the most sense, one thing is clear: Creek was tortured
At last we finally reach the moment he reveals to Poppy, Branch and the rest of the Snack Pack that he plans on betraying all of them and selling out the location of the village, this is the scene that is supposed to make you despise him, for being so cowardly and selfish that he'd rather let everyone he's ever known die horribly than.... give up his own life ? Hold up did i read that right, oh... hm Creek is a character who finds himself in a situation out of his control and is forced to make a decision between two truly awful options, he can either let himself be eaten or everyone else goes, there is NOT a correct answer here, and in the end his sense of self preservation wins. A decision probably influenced by the fact that before this moment, he had spent hours trapped in a small space with barely enough oxygen. There was NEVER going to be another way, as the Chef states herself:
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Especially bringing attention to how he acts in this scene, to me it comes across less like he's finally showing his true colors as a manipulative person, and more like he's desperately trying to justify his actions not only to Poppy but to himself ("At least you get to die with a clear conscience")
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And it seems like he's successful in doing so, for him at least, what other options does he have ? It's either give up your own life, or convince yourself that what you're about to do isn't truly that bad, he chooses to look at it with a positive outlook, ignoring the very obviously bleak reality he finds himself in ("So in a way... You could say... I'm doing this for you")
Another thing about this scene is that we don't really get to see his true feelings on the situation, as during this conversation the Chef Bergen is actively sharpening knifes in the background, even if he did want to come up with a escape plan or air out how he feels about this predicament they find themselves in, he would be unable to do so, as the person who could easily just snatch him up and kill him right then and there stands in the very same room. And that is a recurring thing when it comes to Creek, we don't get to SEE much of him, we don't see the events leading up to his betrayal, we don't really get to see his relationship with Poppy or even the rest of the Snack Pack for that matter, we don't SEE how he feels about being trapped inside Gristle's cape clasp or having to choose between himself or his friends, and honestly we probably never will. For a secondary villain he barely gets any screen time at all, and the screen time he does get is spent in near constant live-threatening danger.
And finally, his story comes to an end, the Bergens discover true happyness, Chef Bergen is defeated, and the last time we see Creek he's getting swallowed up by a mountain sized creature, the very thing he tried so hard to save himself from, to the point that he would give up everyone he's ever loved, happens regardless of his choice, was he even given a choice in the first place ? When both options led him to the same fate ? I would say it's almost tragically poetic if it didn't feel like salt to the wound.
Of course, Trolls: The Beat Goes On exists, but it's not even close to being a good continuation of his character let alone a satisfying redemption, his introduction is incredibly rushed, characters who have no reason to forgive him for his actions immediatelly welcome him back with open arms, and the one person who doesn't do so is shown to be in the wrong even though his reaction and suspicion make complete sense.
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Besides, TBGO is it's own can of worms and opening it now would only make this post longer than it needs to be, so i'll spare you from that.
My final point is that Creek is a much more complex and interesting character than the story would like you to believe, and it CAN be quite frustating seeing people brush him off as just a selfish fraud who never truly cared about anyone but himself when there's really so much more under the surface. Of course i'm not saying that you should love him, hell you don't even need to like him, he has a lot of flaws and has made terrible decisions, but that's also exactly the reason why i am so keen on giving him a better ending. He shouldn't need to be perfect to deserve a nicer fate, to be given an actual choice for once, one that isn't going to blow up in his face in the end, the ability to be better and do better. You don't deserve to be tossed aside just because you have a big ego or some other personal flaw, you don't deserve to be considered unredeemable because you were put in a situation out of your control, making a bad decision shouldn't define your existence for the rest of your life.
I've come to accept that Creek is a very important character to me, he's a character who NEEDS to be selfish for the story to work the way it does, one who's the narrative is actively trying to make as unlikeable as possible at all times, but it's attempts had an opposite effect on me, and the more i dug only solidified him as my favorite in the entire franchise. I love him because of his unused potential, potential that'll most likely never get a true chance to shine due to Dreamworks not seeming to really care about him as a character, so i have taken upon myself to do what canon failed to. If i had to pick ONE THING for folks that read this post to get out of it, is that you should never be embarassed of your enjoyment for a fictional character, no matter how unlikeable or one-dimensional they seem to be, analyse every frame they show up in, write that fanfic, draw that art, create that self indulgent AU, find meaning where no one else did
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wanderingwnderland · 2 days ago
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yandere! boyfriend x fem reader ೀ⋆⑅˚
currently listening to: angel by massive attack
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Matthew was an incredibly valuable employee to one of the most prominent cybersecurity companies in the city of New York. He would often get called into work during his off hours when a group of fellow engineers were greeted by an especially indecipherable cyber attack. However, the undeniable value and intelligence that he added to the company didn’t necessarily reflect on his willingness to be social with those at his work environment. Matthew preferred to keep to himself most of the time as he lived by the statement: “I just don’t speak if I don’t have anything to say”. He wasn’t too fond of participating in playful banter with those around him because he was simply there to do his job and leave. What was the point of putting in that extra amount of unnecessary effort to talk to people he wouldn’t even speak to if it weren’t for work? Maybe that was why his boss liked loved him so much. Matthew wasn’t shy about the fact that he was there to do his job (incredibly well at that), leave and wander off to experience whatever else life had to offer. No bullshit there. Just a man that would have no trouble doing whatever his job required of him.
However, Matthew would often be teased by his older sister because of the fact that he was almost always enveloped within the poisonous vines of his work, that he never really made an effort to take his life to the next level. Sure, his job paid incredibly well and he was stable in most areas of his life but his sister never failed to remind him that there was one thing missing from his puzzle.
“When are you gonna give me a sister in law, Matty? I mean mom and dad clearly failed to provide me with a biological one, so I’m appointing the task to you”. Claudia, his sister, enjoyed throwing playful jabs at him as that was her job as an older sibling, but she truly wanted to see her brother with a girl by his side. Someone that he could come home to, share his life with, someone that would stay at the end of the night.
Matthew couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that he’d been hit with a wave of loneliness more times than he’d like to admit. When the city was quiet for a moment, his work phone was silent, and he could hear his heartbeat singing within his chest, Matthew could no longer ignore the painful yearning he felt for the opportunity to finally have his other half by his side. So, after a while of attempting to put up an “I’m alone because I’m so enveloped within my work and that’s fine” facade, he decided to start putting himself out there. However, he preferred to stick to the people around him and refrain from downloading a single dating app.
Funnily enough, it was the exact morning that he was clocking in for work where he first laid his hazel eyes on you. There you were picking up your usual coffee order at the cafe nestled within the same building of his place of work. You were so beautiful and everything you did that had him in shambles seemed all so effortless. Matthew knew that he probably appeared a bit unsettling as he caught himself staring at you for a bit too long, so he took it upon himself to walk up to you, make small talk (which he rarely ever did with anyone), and ask for your number but not before paying for your coffee & pastry. You were pleasantly surprised by his approach because online dating/dating apps have become the norm for some years now, and you rarely ever heard of people meeting potential suitors in person anymore. Not only that but the way in which he did it almost made you feel as if you were the main character in a Jane Austen book. Matthew wasted no more than a second before saving you as a contact in his phone and messaging you as an effort to get to know you more.
The story of how the two of you met was something you couldn’t look back on without a smile being plastered on your face. Matthew knew from the very first time that he saw you that he’d do everything within his power to keep you satisfied and by his side. He didn’t expect for his first experience with a women to go as smoothly as it did with you, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. You were absolutely everything that Matthew envisioned when he thought of his future. The incredible sense of security and love that you provided him with was something that he swore he’d do absolutely everything to protect. In his point of view, you were nothing to be played around with. He wouldn’t tolerate or expect you to tolerate any sort of disrespect from anyone, and he’s willing to get his hands dirty to get his point across. Matthew truly doesn’t mind getting out of character when it comes to you, suddenly he’s the most confrontational man in the entire room and his tongue is sharp enough to cut down a giant sequoia tree.
Not only does he get out of character for you in the ‘confrontational’ sense but you have him partaking in activities that he most likely wouldn’t do without you. Matthew prefers low energy spaces over places that are ‘extroverted’ or involve large amounts of people/loud noises. So, he adores when the two of you visit coffee shops, bakeries, art museums downtown, botanical gardens, estate sales, nights at the movie theater, etc.
In the beginning, Matthew is everything you could ever want in a man but you could tell he was a bit…anxious? He was getting used to being in a romantic relationship with somebody and he wants to make sure that he doesn’t make any mistakes. He wouldn’t know what he’d do if he had the opportunity to have an angel such as yourself in his presence just to have you gone due to his idiotic actions. The pet names that he has for you are quite traditional but the absolutely love struck tone in his voice when he says them make their effect on you so much worse.
(Ex: Baby, princess, pretty girl, and muffin once he starts getting even more comfortable)
Thanks to him being an incredibly talented cybersecurity engineer, he’s able to hack into various electronic devices (including yours). Listen, Matthew obviously trusts you with his entire being but he’s doing this to keep an eye on the people in your life that he’s suspicious of. Of course he wants the love of his life, the apple of his eye to have an amazing night out with her friends but it just depends on who those friends are. He doesn’t want anybody to steer you in the wrong direction or peer pressure you into doing anything out of character. He just loves you so much and he’s willing to do everything he can to protect what the two of you have.
has an obsession with older romance movies and it shows through the sickeningly sweet way in which he treats you. He holds you as if you’re made of fine china or a knife of some sorts.
knows how to throw down in the kitchen as he’s had enough time gifted to him in order to learn how to cook/bake. He made you a cherry flambé one night after dinner and you almost fell out of your seat because of how good it melted in your mouth. You think it’s adorable how often the two of you visit restaurants, bakeries, & cafes and he takes every opportunity to expand his palate and get ideas of what else to make in your shared kitchen.
has a hooked nose and dark curls that ring around his neck like vines.
Every time he sees you naked it’s like the first time all over again. His eyes are watery, his fingers are shaking and he’s aching to get his hands on you, fingers inside you, his hips flush against yours as his cock makes a creamy mess out of your pussy. He swears you’re something straight out of a Peter Paul Rubens painting.
Couldn’t be happier when you obviously agree to go on a trip with his family and him to the villiage in Mykonos where his parents are from.
enjoys listening to rock and bands that have supposed ‘self-loathing anthems’. FE: Sublime, Soundgarden, Matchbox Twenty, Radiohead, etc. He listens to a wide variety of music but he favors jazz, rock, and folk music.
He runs hot in his sleep so he wears a simple set of a black tank top and black polo plaid boxer shorts to bed.
Prefers colder, rainy, and foggy weather.
He had a habit of smoking but somehow managed to quit once you entered his life.
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joejhang · 1 day ago
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my aftg hot takes
most of these are pretty lukewarm but i'm gonna get flamed for them anyway but whatever. spoilers ??? ahead ??? idk read at ur own risk
i don't think andreil ever say i love you to each other; i feel like the discourse about this is virtually endless ever since nora said it but honestly her explanation was so valid??? they're such a show not tell couple it just makes so much sense for them to show the "i love you" in their actions than ever saying the words out loud. esp bc neither of them have ever really heard those words and have them mean anything real or true or actually loving. personally i think their little percentages and the "i hate you"'s and kisses and keys mean more to them than an "i love you" ever could. i'm not a purist on this tho i do think i could visualise it happening maybe somewhere along the road i just think nora's explanation for this is very very in line with canon andreil.
i don't hate thea muldani; i've made a post abt this but basically my thoughts around her are literally just: she's a human being, and she's never gonna be perfect. i also find it very...interesting how the fandom likes to flame thea (an explicitly stated woman of colour) for being "problematic" and a "terrible person/character" when she doesn't act all that different from andrew, neil and kevin (white men) ??? idk it seems a little strange to me bc she seems pretty on par with them on whatever moral compass this batshit crazy fandom has decided to impose on these fictional and very much morally ambiguous characters. anyway go check out my post i go a lot deeper into thea's character and why she does a lot of things wrong but i don't rlly think she's deserving of the insane amounts of hate she gets in the fandom.
i don't think andreil ever get married; this MIGHT be me projecting bc the idea of marriage is just a very complicated and rough concept in my mind but also just i feel like there's something so beautiful about andreil never really putting a label on their relationship??? like they never define it by calling the other their "boyfriend" or "husband" they just are. they have nothing "concrete" binding them like a marriage certificate but they choose to stay with each other through everything. idk it's real to me but again i'm not a purist people can do whatever they want.
i've said it before but i'll keep saying it till enough people hear me: the aftg fandom mischaracterises literally the main fucking characters; i'm mostly talking about andrew and ESPECIALLY neil here bc neil is not a sweet, sunshiney, oblivious, blushy softboy and andrew is not a cold, unemotional, stoic, "conceal don't feel" stone. since i've already bitched on and on about neil's mischaracterisation let's just talk about andrew for a sec. i think andrew is actually a deeply emotional person and is fully aware of the feelings he experiences. does he vocalise or express them often? no but more often than not they show themselves anyway. him crashing out after neil was kidnapped, letting himself get walked like a dog by neil for three books straight, choking allison for slapping aaron, idk i could go on. but yeah you get it.
i don't actually think neil is that oblivious; before people come at me like "but nora said!" or whatever yeah, i know she said he's as dense as a brick when it comes to people flirting with him. considering how much of the ec the aftg fandom likes to disregard allow me to disregard this little bit of it, yeah? this isn't me tryna impose my own projections onto nora's characters, this is lit just me tryna explain how i understand neil josten (he's my bsf btw). he literally clocks his feelings for andrew in trk (after his deep convo™ with nicky) but he just files it away for later bc he doesn't consider attraction or romantic interest anything to be thinking about considering he's got the mafia and his serial killer dad on his tail. i also don't really blame him for not catching onto andrew's feelings earlier (tho doesn't he get pretty fucking close during that one convo they have in exites in trk???? someone correct me if i'm wrong but) bc dude andrew was out here sending fucking mixed ass signals like bro was saying "you are a pipe dream" and "i hate you" in the same fucking conversations like??? neil has always taken andrew at face value and he's not about to question him now. he's also never confused or uncertain about nicky or marissa and what their comments about him meant, he just genuinely does not gaf about them so he doesn't acknowledge them or pay them any attention in his narration. i truly truly think his dismissal of all the advances made upon him in aftg were borne out of indifference, not obliviousness.
have already said this in detail but i don't think andrew's actually a misogynist; the wording doesn't feel right. i'd probably describe andrew's distrust of women (esp. those in motherly/mother roles) as a similar ingrained wariness that neil has for older men. this is something borne out of trauma and shitty experiences that takes time and trust to unlearn. nora says a lot of things the fandom disregards and for me, this is one of those things i'm a little iffy about. misogyny actually isn't reflected in andrew's actions at all, i'd say. does he respect women? no. but he doesn't respect anyone unless they've actually earned it. and among the people he does respect and care for there are women (renee, bee). he doesn't treat women any differently and obv doesn't think they're any weaker than men are (considering renee wipes the floor w him their first sparring sesh). andrew's an equal opportunity hater and i don't think he actually has any sexist or even misogynistic tendencies. i think what is there is just a slightly biased worldview of disliking/mistrusting mother figures, given his bad experiences w tilda and cass (they've left him w more long-term emotional damage that's probably rlly difficult and complicated for him to work through esp considering cass did love??? him and he did want her enough to be willing to suffer dr*ke to be close to her; there's more to it but for the sake of word count i won't go into it) but honestly it doesn't actually show that much??? if people wanna say he hates women, sure, but for one, he doesn't hate a lot of things he's just very indifferent to them and two, he holds a pretty similar apathetic distaste for most people and things, so it's not like a very big distinction. i also think the whole "no girls" thing w aaron was very much a personal thing, and his mistrust of katelyn probably came from aaron's past (apparently negative) experiences w other girlfriends and friendships in general. and if i remember correctly the deal wasn't even "no girls" it was just "family only" which is why aaron didn't make friends w the rest of the foxes either. i digress but i don't think saying "andrew isn't a misogynist" is robbing him of any nuance as a character.
i like nicky and honestly feel similarly towards him as i do about thea; he isn't perfect and never will be and i think while the way he acts towards neil and others (see: matt, kevin) is pretty untoward and inappropriate, i also do see where he's coming from, esp after aaron's explanation of it. that it's a defence mechanism coming from someone who's experienced a lot of prejudice and harm because of his sexuality. obv i think everyone can agree his assault on neil was fucked up but i think nora was right in saying that nicky was high and drunk and not rlly in his right mind at the time, and he does apologise and i'm pretty sure she also said he and neil work it out privately anyway. he's a messy character and definitely not perfect queer rep but again, he's pretty realistic, and i think he's honestly a rlly well-written and complex character.
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sparrowlucero · 3 days ago
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Hello sorry I am being shy and anon but do you have any advice for someone who wants to get into Doctor Who again after briefly dabbling (and enjoying it very much) in like the early, early 2010s? I know this is mostly your art blog but you were the only person I could think of to ask you're like the Doctor Who authority of blogs I follow
Oh yeah of course! People can be really confusing about this so I'll try not to be.
So first, the majority of doctor who episodes are self contained stories that you could just watch and understand perfectly without any further context. even when there is some overarching context it's usually written in a way that's either pretty easy to glean and/or just doesn't impact your understanding of the story. 99% of the episodes don't even care if you know the premise and are just like "what if some people were on a spaceship and the devil was there? wouldn't that be fucked up or what??". Don't feel like you have to binge a 60 years long show to watch it. Some standalone episodes I think are fun if you (or anyone else) just want to check out one or two:
The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances (A supposed-to-be-dead boy in a gas mask haunts a young woman in world war 2)
Blink (A woman gets wrapped up in a mystery involving statues that make people disappear. This one is especially good if you flat out know nothing about the show. Has some really great time travel stuff.)
A Christmas Carol (A christmas carol pastiche (of course) where the doctor tries to rewrite the past of a cruel man who's going to let a lot of people die. very sad and sweet. I love the "wintery planet with sky fish" setting of this one)
Vincent and the Doctor (The famous Vincent Van Gogh Episode™)
The Rings of Akhatan (A pretty lowkey little adventure story about an alien festival. has supreme autumn vibes)
Flatline (A species from a 2 dimensional world tries to break into our 3 dimensional one. really fun special effects)
Midnight (A tour bus breaks down on a diamond planet where nothing can survive. Something knocks at the door.)
Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead (The Doctor and friend go to a library that covers an entire planet and finds that everyone has disappeared. Has a lot of really great, interesting concepts baked into it that I won't spoil)
It Takes You Away (A girl is left alone in a cabin in the woods when her dad disappears through the mirror. Has a famously goofy ending that I really love)
73 Yards (A character is steps on a fairy circle and is followed by an old woman who always stands exactly 73 yards away)
The Devil's Chord (This doesn't really have, you know, a plot, but it does have jinkx monsoon as an evil music god)
Boom (The doctor steps on a landmine on an alien planet and cannot move)
Wild Blue Yonder (A two hander where the Doctor and co are trapped on a dilapidated spaceship at the edge of the universe. really atmospheric with some fun/strange visuals.)
That being said, it does add a lot to watch it in order; there's a lot of plot twists, character dynamics, and general payoff you get if you marathon it. I would personally recommend starting with either the first episode of the 2005 show ("Rose") or the first episode of the 2010 season ("The Eleventh Hour") and just watching in order from there. I think you could also start with "The Snowmen", "The Pilot", or "The Woman Who Fell To Earth" if you wanted, but the first two (especially rose) are the better jumping on points.
some other little notes of advice I don't often see people mention:
it's stupid sometimes just roll with it
once in a while the show sort of "reboots" with different writers, actors, directors, and a new tone. it's much more like watching several small shows than one long show, so don't be too put off by the length!
IMPORTANT: pretty much all streaming services will separate holiday/anniversary specials from the show proper and you have to deliberately search them up on the same service to find them. It's really necessary to be aware of this because many of these specials are the first or last episodes for characters/whole eras of the show and are genuinely unskippable. I strongly recommend looking up a list of the episodes and checking it after finales just to make sure you don't skip anything on accident.
there's two spin offs (Torchwood, a more adult (read: gay sex) show about a mysterious agency that solves sci fi crimes, and the Sarah Jane Adventures, a pretty good monster of the week kids show) that ran concurrently with season 1-4. You don't have to watch them to understand anything happening in doctor who, but sometimes they cross over with the show in fun ways, Ex. the first season finale of Torchwood continues directly into season 3 of Doctor Who. My friend and I got a kick out of watching them at the same time so maybe you will too. (either way I recommend watching "Children of Earth", the torchwood miniseries, if you want to see a weird dark sci fi show about the government making contact with aliens. It's a bit like arrival (2016) if it was way nastier.)
alternatively, you can inject fast acting brain poison into yourself with this
anyways I hope this all reads as, you know, more approachable than the way dudes on quora recommend this show:
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lostingrayrain · 2 days ago
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hello hello!! i bought homicipher the day it came out and i'm so in love with it.. but there's no content whatsoever and i'm so sad 😭😭 could you write literally anything for any character.. i just need to see more homicipher content!!! 😭😭💗
I GOT YOU ANON I've clocked in like 20 hours since the release on November 1st omg....
I've been cooking up something for my first Homicipher post.....here's some general thoughts on the relationships/dynamics with the main guys.
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Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella
Word Count: 1454
Warnings: sfw, some mentions of canon-typical violence
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Mr. Crawling
He loves you!! He loves you so, so, so much!!!
Do you love him?
He asks you that. A lot. He loves to be reassured that you adore him. And he's always vocal about how much he adores you.
He follows you everywhere, like a lost puppy. It's honestly so endearing and sweet. He's constantly on the lookout for you.
He also adores physical touch, once he knows it's fine. Other than the little headpats, he likes to touch your legs, especially your calves. In times of rest he's incredibly cuddly and loves to nuzzle into you.
Pet his hair and he'll melt immediately. It's so relaxing to him.
He's usually with you, but when he's not he's often on the lookout for gifts and trophies to bring to you. He just wants to make you happy, in any way possible. The second there's anything you mention liking or being fond of, it's a priority for him to see if he can scrounge it up.
If you'll let him, he'd love to touch your hair. He will play with it and make silly nonsensical braids and giggle quietly to himself all the while.
He's a bit of a chatterbox. He loves to talk to you. Any time he's been away he likes to give you little reports of what he's done or what he's seen. And he wants to hear all about your day or your dreams, too. There's never a time he won't want to hear what you have to say.
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Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair
You are so very interesting to him! He wants to study you.
But not hurt you. Normally, he probably would have already dismembered you to watch how your body pulls together again, but since you're friends with Mr. Chopped, he's put aside that urge.
Instead it's been replaced by something else, though he doesn't really understand what it is. He's never felt it before. Or maybe he has? Maybe he doesn't remember? Could you help him remember?
Whenever you’re feeling ill, he finds that he wants to make you feel better. He’s trying hard to learn how to keep you together just as you are.
He’ll get you to lie down when it seems you’re feeling faint, and carry you to bed when you collapse in the middle of an errand. Before he realises it, he's massaging your hair. Think nothing of it. Your head hurts, right? So it makes sense to pet you.
He likes to watch you sleep. He can’t put a finger on why. He likes to tell himself he’s doing armchair research when he’s really just….zoning out.
He's extremely perceptive and observant. He's always checking your reactions to things and events to figure out what you like or don't like, or to try to understand how you're feeling in the moment.
He's the type to politely ask if it's okay to touch you before doing so.
He would never hurt you unless your urges became unbearable, in which case it's self-defense, right? He'll make sure you'll turn back to normal and he'll be there for you every step of the way.
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Mr. Gap
He's probably...one of the strangest denizens of the otherworld. You're still not sure if he has a body. But he has helped you on multiple occasions. You've found yourself growing fond of him.
You often see him peeking at you from various holes and gaps. Sometimes he tries to get your attention, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he just watches.
When you find a bag in the underworld, you begin carrying it around with you.
He's usually inside, but sometimes not. You have no idea where he goes.
He'll often bring back little gifts like weapons or food, like some bizarre cat. When he finds out you like candy, he tends to focus on that.
He always asks for your heart before he gives you anything, and you always say no, and he always grumbles.
But somehow you'll always find those same things coincidentally in your path or somewhere in the room after you wake up, if you've taken a nap.
He likes to scope out newspapers and magazines too, and show them to you, especially if they feature himself. He's so proud of that.
Over time, his requests for your heart grow less and less frequent. Sometimes, you forget he used to ask you for it at all, until he suddenly pipes up with the query again.
Is his wanting your heart the same thing as wanting your love? Things to ponder.
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Mr. Hood
He's quiet and reclusive but he's there for you whenever you need him.
You need or want anything? Just ask. He'll give it to you immediately with hardly a question.
No harm will ever come to you whenever you're with him, and he hardly lets you out of his sight. He's incredibly protective of you.
He loves to carry you in his arms or on his shoulder, whether you're small or not. It's no bother to him. He's more than strong enough.
Hand touches are so pleasant to him -- whether you're touching his hands, or he's touching your face. He's secretly touch-starved. As long as you don't shy away, he'll continue to hold onto you.
He enjoys quizzing you on your knowledge of the otherworld language. When things are slow, he’ll randomly ask you if you know the names of certain things.
Whenever you both encounter something new during your travels, he’s quick to ask you if you know what it is or outright tells you what it’s called.
He seems a bit self-conscious of having minimal form. What is under his robe? If you don't ask he'll be grateful. He doesn't know himself.
But if you're not repulsed by his anomalous form, that's just -- incredibly touching.
He claims to not understand love, but he'll never abandon you.
Maybe he doesn't understand. Maybe he's forgotten.
But there's something about you that comforts him, and makes him feel safe. Quite paradoxical -- he's the one doing the protecting, after all. But your presence soothes him.
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Mr. Machete
He's just looking for a way to not be bored. And being with you -- somehow, it's fun.
Maybe because he's usually alone, so he doesn't often have anyone else to talk to. It's...fun to banter with you, even if sometimes your words confuse him.
It's unquestionable that he's the brawn, you're the brain of this duo. Maybe the beauty and the beast, too?
He's always, secretly, been a little bit of a coward. The second things don't look like they'll turn out well for him, he ditches and flees.
But, oddly, you give him the courage to stand against things or monsters he would have thought were impossible to defeat.
Sometimes, you die -- whether by accident or because something else got to you before he could. But he always sighs and waits for you to wake up again. If you're mad, it's a little funny. You were just too slow that time.
He likes sparring with you. You have to get faster, right? Your weapon is pretty funny, too. So small and yet somehow you manage to not get overwhelmed by him. He's not holding back. He never would. Right?
He likes to pick you up and sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Likes to hug you like a teddy bear, too. You're soft and warm. You feel nice against him.
He's not the type to ask, but if you made any indication of not liking anything, he'd stop. He doesn't want to break you.
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Mr. Scarletella
You are his queen. He literally worships the ground you walk on.
You are so fascinating to him. He just can't believe he's found someone as perfect as you. Someone who likes to destroy and kill people, just like him? Immaculate.
You haven't and never will give him your name. That's fine. He can live with that, as long as you're with him.
You've likely given him something else to call you. It's not quite your name -- maybe it's not your full name, and he knows it, because he can't quite grasp your essence. But it's enough to be able to give a sound to the person -- thing -- he likes most in this world.
He likes to say that not-quite name, and he says it often, just to get your attention.
He's fascinated by everything about you -- including how small you are in comparison to him. He loves that he can easily dwarf your form and loom over you. It's exhilarating in a completely different way from mindless violence.
Speaking of which, his favourite thing is without a doubt to commit violence with you. There's a new urban legend steadily growing in the human world, of a pair of murderers characterised by their red and white umbrellas. You're the perfect perfectly awful duo, truly.
Even when he's not with you, he's always somehow got an eye on you. Most of the otherworld residents know by now who you belong to, and they'd never lay hand on the one cherished by the red umbrella man.
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uninformedartist · 2 days ago
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What was the point expecting anything other than dry bones for Millie, Loona even. Vivienne going as far making this bloody long thread (post at the end) hyping people up what she's got in store for Millie when we all know how she writes. Anything written for Millie or Loona or whatever female character is not really for them. Everything written for them has to 1 tie somehow in to a male character & 2 whats written for them ultimately developes a male character more.
Two instances in the latest episode. First instance:
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Loona and Millie finally interacting that doesn't have to do with work or saving the other 2 (dorks episode). And what was their conversation about...Moxxie. Millie asking her to look after him. Which understandable Millie feels she has a lot on her plate having to deal with both of them at the same time but it comes back to their "development" comes centered around a man & furthering their character.
Side tangent on how their "development" developing male character more:
From this whole thing of Millie taking a client job what I learned about Moxxie is that he does the businesses finances, he overworks himself so much he 'shuts down' in highly stressful situations especially when its beyond his control or limits, he regrets he didn't become a theatre critic.
What I learnt about Millie, she cares for Blitz & Moxxie (know this), she actually has some sort of relationship with Loona (kind of this but its logical she would have). What I learnt on Loona, she's caring dispite her tough put on persona (definitively know this), she's smart as she picked up Moxxie didn't calculate properly (didn't know this but never doubted her intelligence really).
I learnt 3 new things about Moxxie and Millie & Loona just more examples of things I already know about them because it was said about them or things I never doubted they had already naturally.
Second instance:
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Millie's backstory. Her whole backstory only came about because of Blitz, because of his hallucinations she brought up her backstory as a means of comfort to HIM.
Breaking apart her backstory, yeah she doesn't owe Blitz shit nor should apologise for this:
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Blitz who we seen throughout the series has done a lot of respecting towards her and her husband.
Listing the "respecting" and not a full list only what I remember
*Episode 1 constantly mistreating and physically hurting her husband, end of the episode going as far making a rape threat towards both of them.
*Episode 2 having explicit sexual fantasies about the two of them at work knowing they've in a monogamous relationship & they established that firmly.
*Episode 5 constantly invalidates her husband in front of her & her family, doesn't show him an ounce of respect ever here.
*Episode 7 stalks them on a date the two of them planned, even after Moxxie verbally told him not to, he disregarded their boundaries in all regards
And so on and so forth so this line girl no.
You cannot establish multiple times Blitz was nothing but a piece of shit towards them then all of a sudden flip it that he actually saved her, gave her a good life ect and then have her say sorry dispite all previously established in show.
Aside, also good luck to her on career, a future in the long run. Millie your pension benefit is gone
💀✋
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I know this show runs on having you "forget" what was previously established because its written like a bad fanfic but come on now its getting really ridiculous.
Vivienne YOU don't understand Millie or rather want to understand her more, only when you do is to when it comes to building your male characters more and just like the previous episodes, she fit the bill nicely developing Moxxie and Blitz further, Blitz more so. No amount of solid writing in this episode from Brandon and Waters can save the mess that is before this episode.
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So this whole hype thread of hers was absolute nonsense, Millie sigh may you shine bright in the actual fanfics.
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dark-konohagakure2 · 2 days ago
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hii i love ur work smm <33 do u think u could write an obito x younger sister reader where he still becomes evil but he watches over in the village as the years pass and notices kakashi getting too close, so he kidnaps her and reminds her who she belongs to <3 thank u
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tw: incest, brother/sister, noncon, stalking, jealousy, possessiveness, semi-public sex, kidnapping, quickie, manipulation
All characters depicted are 18+
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Obito still possesses a deep resentment for the Hidden Leaf Village, and just reality itself, but there are two things that keep Obito spying on the village; Rin's grave, and his younger sister. Obito still has some semblance of love and protectiveness towards his sister, even if she is all grown up now and able to be on her own, Obito just wants to make sure that she's alive and well, as long as she isn't getting involved with the wrong crowd that is.
He's checking up on her one day when Obito gets his worst fears confirmed, his sister has fallen in with the wrong crowd, the worst crowd possible; Kakashi. Obito is enraged, wondering why she would involve herself with Kakashi of all people, she knows damn well that Kakashi was (and still is) his biggest rival, so why would she be getting so friendly with him?
The Uchiha can only reach the conclusion that she's either malicious, getting involved with Kakashi just to spite her dead brother, or she's forgotten about him, about her own brother, the one whose supposed to be the most important man in her life, and Obito just won't let that slide. He's going to make sure his sister learns two thing: that he's still alive and kicking, and that she belongs to him entirely.
He'll snatch her up the very second she's alone and vulnerable, didn't he ever tell her not to walk alone at night? He's disappointed in his dear sister's carelessness. She has no clue who this mysterious masked man grabbing her is, and it takes her a moment to realize who he is even after he removes the mask due to his scarring, but when she realizes that it's her presumed dead older brother, she looked horrified, especially since Obito looks pissed.
"I can't fucking believe you! I leave for a few years and you decide to jump ship to Kakashi of all people?! I think its time to show you who your real big brother is!"
He'll start dragging her away with the intention of taking her to his hideout, but she's struggling and screaming her empty little head off, she's being much too loud and annoying for Obito's liking. He'll take a little detour, one that will shut her up nice and quick. He'll shove her against a nearby tree, covering her mouth with one hand and holding her wrists with the other. He'll hiss at her one last time to keep her mouth shut before he begins to undo his pants.
Obito is normally very gentle with his sister, seeing her as delicate and helpless, but his judgement and rationale is greatly clouded by his anger at the moment, so he'll be anything but gentle as he rips off her panties and forces his cock into her without any preparation or consent. He might apologize to her later, and she has to forgive him, they're family after all.
Normally hearing his sister scream and cry would make Obito upset, even if it is muffled by his hand, but Obito has become nothing but normal since his supposed death, and instead of being saddened by the sight of his sister in pain because of him, it turns him on, his decency and morality seems to have died along with his old self.
He's in a bit of a rush, so Obito will dump his load into her pussy rather quickly, consequences be damned. He'll make a half hearted attempt at apologizing to her as his spent cock slides out of her cunt, but it's clear he doesn't exactly mean it, he just doesn't want her to completely hate him, but he'd be fine with her fearing him, it makes her more obedient that way.
"Don't be like that, this is just a punishment for your bad behavior. Now stop whining already, let's go home so I can make you feel better, like I used to..."
Of course when he says "home" he means his dark and dank cave he calls a hideout, but he can make it comfortable for her, if she's good. If she's an extra good girl, then he might even give her the privilege of having her own bed instead of being forced to share his.
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fidenciocryptidcreechur · 2 days ago
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sebek Zigvolt deserves more appreciation
him & rook hunt
They're just
I just
I just like them as so much as characters.
rook is unapologetically himself. He stays true to himself and his ideals no matter what anyone says. Even though literally everyone, including his closest friend Vil, thinks he's weird and even off-putting. Don't get me wrong about Vil. He and Rook are amazingly close but there are multiple instances where Vil finds Rook irritating. He is often told in some manner to curb himself, to tone down his passion for finding the beauty & positivity in all things. All he does is be unabashedly genuine & passionate & artistic & honest. He's also one of the few characters who is relatively kind to Game Canon You from beginning to end in game Canon. In multiple instances in his dialogue he invites others to join him in his hobbies and activities and despite being faced w/ hostility. Even on his birthday, Malleus did not want to go despite sending an invite-which yes Mal can have preferences - but still the fact that the King of lonely rejects an invite shows how fairly isolated Rook is. Yet despite criticism from all around, he maintains this unending positivity & drive to improve. I love Rook hunt
Sebek too. He is a very driven & honest Character. In multiple vignettes he is shown to be helpful, to Show care, to Show admiration for skill in his peers. Yes, he is standoffish. However, he is not deceitful nor manipulative nor does he seem to intend harm unlike a great deal of many especially early on. A lot of comments about humans seem to stem from internalized racism. There is a lot of canonical instances discrimination against fae, especially those who are notably different dwarves & the pixies. So it would be unsurprising if Sebek also grew up under discrimination AND scrutiny both from human community & the fae Community. We know that his grandfather Baul is very vocal about his disapproval of his fae daughter's marriage w/ a human. Yet despite this, he still does his best & still clearly cares. He grew up w/ parents who went against a lot of opposition to be together and are very loving and likely took some of that determination & attitude w/ him in life. He will give praise for skill and will help those he can. His circumstances & upbringing (Scrutiny & discrimination from both fae & humans, even his own grandfather though he mentions that progress has been made there). Despite all of this, he is doing his best and is a wonderfully genuine and honest and expressive and determined guy
So yeah
I love Sebek and Rook. They're great characters and I think they need more appreciation.
also these 2 put the Sebek appreciation way more eloquently than I
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musings-of-a-rose · 2 days ago
Note
Hi, just wanted to say that I love your work! Especially with Benny and Frankie so much that I have an idea for Benny! Female reader (not picky about the name) meets Benny at a bar days after she catches her now ex-boyfriend cheating on her and they hook up at his place, but she leaves before he wakes up. She later finds out she's pregnant but doesn't tell anyone who the father is. Months later while still pregnant, her friends convince her to come with them to see a MMA fight and low and behold Benny is there fighting. He doesn't see her at first, but when the fight ends (which he wins) he sees her and she leaves abruptly while hiding her stomach since she's wearing baggy clothing. However, Benny manages to catch up to her, where she reveals the news to him. They then talk some more at her place where he reveals to her that she's been on his mind ever since that night and begins the start of something new.
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One Night Can Change Everything
Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader 
Word Count: 6400+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 
Notes: Rea is a general nickname for a “reader” character that @mermaidxatxheart came up with and I think that’s genius! This is not beta’d.
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
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**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Benny Miller Masterlist
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“Ok, that’s it. I’m making you get out of this bed now,” My best friend Sage declares as she towers over my bed, where I have lived for the past several days. Ever since I caught my boyfriend sleeping with my co-worker. Co-workerS.
Ex-boyfriend now, I suppose. 
I groan, attempting to roll over but Sage grabs my shoulder and flips me back over, digging her fingers lovingly into my skin. “I love you Rea, I do. But you have to get out of this bed. He’s not worth it.”
She’s right. I know she is. But we had been dating for nearly 2 years, mostly. It was on and off, but we had talked about marriage, kids, all of it. I thought he would be my forever but apparently, I was his “for now”. 
Fuck this asshole.
I sit up quickly, nearly colliding with Sage, and yank the covers off me, determination flooding my veins, choking out the hurt. For now, at least. 
“Alright, alright. I’m up.”
Sage points to the bathroom. “First, please take a shower. Then we’re going to Mick’s.” 
I’d almost forgotten about Mick’s, Sage’s favorite bar. Probably because it’s full of rugged, blue-collar men and Sage definitely has a type. Not that I can blame her. 
“Ok, but I’m just going for you. And science.”
Sage snorts. “Sure, Rea. Sure. Don’t forget to shave.”
—--------------
An hour later and I’m walking into Mick’s front door, loud music vibrating through me. It’s busy, but I’ve seen it busier and we manage to snag a couple of stools at the bar. Within 10 minutes, Sage is led to the dance floor by some burly lumberjack, complete with flannel shirt and all. I throw my hand up in the air in a “what about me” motion as she glances behind her, shrugging and gesturing around the room before focusing all of her attention on the flannel clad bear of a man in front of her, who is surprisingly agile. I turn back to the bar, taking my hand off the top of my glass, tossing the last of the liquid down my throat, coughing slightly at the burn. I set my glass down, my finger trailing along the rim, wondering if I should call an Uber or wait for my friend, when a man slides in next to me, flagging down the bartender. 
“5 beers, please.” His voice has a slight drawl to it, his tone warming me all over. 
“Seems a lot for one man.” Where the hell did that courage come from?
The man, clad in a button up light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up that opens to reveal a camo print shirt, turns his head to me and for what feels like days, I’m rendered speechless. This man is gorgeous - a sloping nose,  sandy blonde hair that flips out from behind his backward hat, some patchy facial hair, and the most intensely blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They glance quickly down my body and back up, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 
“Ain’t all for me, sweetheart. Got a table full of impatient assholes waiting for a beer.”
I cock my head to the side. “You lose a bet or something?”
The man tips his head back and laughs, his shoulders shaking with it and I feel my body tingle. I could listen to that sound forever. 
“How the hell did you know that?” His smile is wide, all of his attention on me, his eyebrows raised in question.
I shrug. “I’d send the guy who lost a bet to get the first round, at least.”
He chuckles. “Smart girl…I’m Ben. Friends call me Benny.”
I tell him my name. “But my friends call me Rea.”
“I like that. Nice to meet you, Rea.” He sticks his hand out to shake mine, but before I can, 4 beers slide in front of him and he glances down at them, his shoulders dropping ever so slightly. 
Finding courage from somewhere, I lay my hand on his forearm and have to resist squeezing. “You have to go back so soon?”
He smiles again, the skin around his eyes crinkling with it. “Nah, sweetheart. I’ll be right back. Promise me you’ll wait right here?” There go the eyebrows again, pulling together and making him look like a puppy. Fuck I am so screwed.
“I’ll be waiting.”
He hesitates for a brief second before taking my hand and kissing the back of it. “Now that’s something to make a man move fast.” He winks, grabs the four beers, and heads off into the crowd, making his way towards the back of the room. Hate to see him leave, but damn I’m loving watching him go, his 6’3 frame easily visible over the crowd. He drops off the beers somewhere at the back of the room, turning quickly to push his way back through the crowd, his eyes locking on mine and giving me a sly smile. 
“You waited.” He slides back into the barstool next to me as I pull my leg from it, the universal gesture for this is saved.
Fuck his eyes are so blue. “You came back.”
A smile plays at the corner of his lips. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
I look down for a moment, my mind going back to my ex and all of his cheating, making me feel less than. Benny seems to sense something, his large hand hesitating a moment before he gently squeezes my arm. “You ok?”
I shake my head, my eyes locking back on his blues. “Yeah. I’m great now you’re here.”
Benny is easy to talk to, fun, and flirty. He’s in Delta Force, or was, with his actual brother, one of the men that he’d owed a beer to earlier. We talk about everything and anything, Benny eventually pulling me to the dance floor and whisking me about, sometimes dancing and other times being silly and smiling when I laugh. After several songs, we need a break, managing to snag a couple of stools at the bar, sipping on a couple of drinks. 
“So you live local?” He asks me, taking another swig from his beer.
I nod. “Yeah. I don’t typically come here, but my friend Sage dragged me out of the house.”
“Well remind me to thank her. She here?”
“Actually,” I turn and look out at the crowd for several moments, finally seeing her in the back corner, making out with Flannel Bear Man. I chuckle. “Yeah, she’s a little occupied.”
Benny chuckles, taking another swig of his beer, his free hand hesitating a moment before landing on my bare thigh, just above my knee. “Well I can keep you company.” 
His warm hand against my skin has my brain short-circuiting. I can’t think of what to say so I return his question. “Are you local?”
He nods, his thumb slowly rubbing circles across my skin. “Yeah. But some water main or somethin’ broke in my building. They put us all up in hotels until they fix it. Burst a few pipes.”
“Oh no! Is your stuff ok?” I place my hand over his on my leg, giving it a little squeeze and move it further up my thigh, heat immediately rushing to an area not far from where his hand is. 
He clears his throat. “Uh, y-yeah. Well, I had some water damage but didn’t lose anythin’ big. They just have to put down new floors.”
The music volume suddenly goes up by several volumes, turning the place into a mini club. Benny winces and I can see that it triggers him, the loud sounds and people becoming a little much. I lean in closer to his ear, gently rubbing circles into the back of his hand. 
“It’s too fucking loud! Wanna get out of here?” I pull my head back to look at him, our faces only an inch apart. His eyes flit between mine, briefly pausing on my lips.
“If you’re sure, hell yeah.”
I smile and he returns it before I lean back into his ear. “Let me flag my friend down and let her know. Stay right here so I don’t lose you.”
He turns his head, his nose brushing against my cheek. “I’ll be right here.” Hating that I have to move, I gently place his hand on his thigh and give him a wink before turning, scanning the corner where I had last seen Sage. She’s still there, Flannel Bear Man sucking on her neck. I force my way through the crowd and eventually emerge in front of her. Sage’s gaze takes a moment to settle on me.
“Rea! Where’ve you been?” She yells above the music.
I gesture to where I came from. “At the bar. Waiting for you.”
She gasps as Flannel Bear Man starts to bite her skin. “S-sorry, Rea. I-”
I cut her off, not wanting to intrude any longer. “No worries. I’m getting out of here. With a guy. I’ll get an Uber.”
Sage reaches out and grips my wrist, breaking the suction from Flannel Man who only seems to just realize I’m standing here. 
“A guy? You found someone? Do you need condoms?”
“Sage! I have to go!”
“Wait!” She pulls her clutch from somewhere and digs around in it, quickly sliding a few foiled square packages in my hand. “ Remember, it’s just a rebound. Don’t get attached. Have fun and be safe!”
I can’t help the heat in my cheeks, but I tuck the condoms in my bag. “Thanks. I’ll ping you my location.”
Sage releases my wrist and smiles at me before I turn back to Benny, shoving my way through more bodies on the dance floor. I emerge on the other side and see him still sitting where I left him, hat turned backward and looking so fucking hot. 
This is all so unlike me, but I like Benny. Sage’s words echo through my head “it’s just a rebound. Have some fun.”
I walk up to Benny and he turns his head, standing and giving me a wide smile. “Ready to go, sweetheart?”
I nod and he offers me his hand, which I happily accept, his touch warming me all over as he guides us through the crowd and out the front door, the volume immediately decreasing the moment the door closes behind us. 
“Now I can hear myself think!” Benny chuckles as he pulls my hand to his lips, lightly brushing them against my knuckles, his puppy dog eyes on mine. “Did you drive?
“Hhhm? Oh, uh no. Uber.”
Benny nods. “I have my jeep. I can drive us somewhere? Unless you’d feel safer using Uber?”
I study him for a moment, deciding that I trust him. “I love Jeeps.”
He smiles, his grip on my hand tightening slightly as he directs me to the parking lot, chatting a little too fast about his Jeep, like he’s nervous. He helps me into the passenger side, sliding across the hood to make it to the driver’s side quicker, smiling at my laugh. He starts the Jeep and gets the ac started before turning to me.
“Where to?”
It’s just a rebound. Have fun. “I’d love to see your hotel.”
His eyebrows raise, that same smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah? You don’t have to. I mean, we could just get a burger or somethin’.”
I look down at my hands in my lap. Did I misread the signals? He was definitely coming on to me, right? I wasn’t reading into that? Before I can spiral further, Benny puts his hand over mine. “Hey, look. I like you and think you’re fucking hot as hell and would love to take you to my room to uh, show you the room. But I don’t want to presume or make you feel obligated or anything.”
I would choose a fucking gentlemen for a rebound. Fuck. I close my hand over his and meet his eyes. “Thanks, Benny. I don’t want to push you or presume either.”
He chuckles once, removing his hand to put his Jeep in reverse and then back into drive. “Sweetheart, you can take advantage of me any day.”
That breaks the awkwardness and has us laughing, falling back into conversation easily as Benny navigates through traffic. Gently, I lay his hand on my bare thigh again, wrapping my hand over his. He’s talking about something, I honestly can’t focus because he’s started to move, his fingers tracing slow lines across my skin as his hand moves further up my leg, getting closer to where I desperately want him to be. We hit a red light and the Jeep goes quiet, Benny turning to look at me as he slides his hand further up, his pinkie finger just barely tracing the crease of my thigh, heat and wet pooling just beyond his touch. My lips part and I let out a gasp of air, my eyes finding his. 
There’s a moment of hesitation but then I grip his shirt, pulling him towards me, our lips crashing together. He nips at my bottom lip and I gasp, Benny taking full advantage to slide his tongue into my open mouth, a small moan escaping me. His free hand leaves the steering wheel to grip the back of my head, holding me to him as he explores my mouth. The car behind us honks and we jump apart, the light having already turned green. Benny sticks his hand up to apologize to the car behind us, driving on, but immediately places his hand back on me, this time, his pinkie grazes up my panties and I squirm a little in my seat, not used to this much attention. He stills his movements.
“Is it too much?” He’s actually concerned.
“More like, not enough.”
Benny makes it to his hotel in record time.
Heated touches and kisses down the hallway has Benny dropping his room key a few times. As he tries to jam it into the lock, I slide my hands around him from behind, moving up his stomach from under his shirt and fuck he has a nice body, my hands moving lightly over his toned chest. He finally jams the key into the lock and flings the door open, tossing his keys on top of the dresser. He spins back around to face me, his eyes blown wide and dark with lust. 
He swallows hard. “Are you…are you sure?”
I step close to Benny, gently take his wrist and turn his hand palm up. One hand still holding his, I open my bag and fish out one of the foil squares, and place the condom in Benny’s hand. He glances down at it before looking back at me, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
“Rea, did you get a condom from your friend?”
I can feel the heat blooming in my cheeks. “No! I mean, technically yes but she-”
He cuts me off with his lips, one hand wrapped around my head and the other grips my hips, fingers digging into my skin as he pulls me flush against him. I can feel him hard beneath his jeans and I moan into his kiss, pressing myself against him so I can try to relieve some of the rapidly increasing hear between my thighs. He moves us and I feel the bed hit the back of my knees, but he holds me tighter before breaking the kiss. Both of us rip the shirts from our bodies, my bra quickly following. I reach for my pants but he grabs my wrists and stills them, his blue eys falling to my chest. He gently cups a boob and lightly pinches the nipple and I gasp, the small movement shooting straight between my legs. 
Then Benny sinks to his knees, eye level with my pants. He pops open the button on my jeans, sliding them down my legs where I help him kick them off. His large fingers trace the outline of my panties, the heat pooling there as I gasp at his touch. He hooks his fingers into them and slides them down my legs too, his eyes locked on the space between my thighs. 
“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he half whispers. A half chuckle escapes me before it turns into a moan as he slides his nose up my slit, bumping into my clit. He growls, using my hips to push me down on the bed, tossing my legs over his shoulders like it was nothing. 
Which I have no time to think about because his mouth is on me, his hands on my inner thighs, pressing them further apart, widening his canvas. His tongue explores me, seeking all the areas that have me writhing under his firm grip. He somehow finds spots that I didn’t even know existed, sucking lightly, lapping, the coil of pleasure quickly tightening until a sound erupts from me, somewhere between a chant and a moan, my fingers gripping his hair to keep him in the same spot as he prolongs my release. 
My head is in a blissful haze, but I manage a whine as he pulls away from me, taking his pants off when he does. I hear the sound of the condom opening and I watch him as he rolls the condom on himself. I lean up on my elbows to see better, because he’s gorgeous, not girthy but longer, and definitely not anywhere near a size I’ve had in me. 
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take my time.” I blink, looking up at his face and see that there’s a hint of concern there, like he wants to make sure I’m comfortable.
I scoot further up on the bed to give him more space. “Don’t worry about me. I can take you.”
His eyes darken and he grabs my ankle, yanking me back down towards the end of the bed. I squeal, my body heating up again as he lowers himself between my legs. He pauses, his eyes bright as he glances between my own. 
“You’re so beautiful,” there’s that almost whisper voice again, his eyebrows pulling together so he looks like a puppy.
“So are you, Benny.” We take each other in for a few more moments, my body about to burst with all of the tension and hormones racing through it. “Now please fuck me, now.” I know I’m begging, but I don’t care. 
And neither does Benny, apparently, as he smirks. “Yes ma’am.”
He slowly presses his hips forward and I let out a moan as he stretches me, pushing further and further in. I’m not sure how, but he bottoms out, dropping his head to my chest, breathing heavy for a moment. 
“Fuck, you feel so good. Gimme a sec so I don’t blow my load like a teenager.”
I manage some sort of confirmation sound, but then a moment later, he slowly pulls out and presses back in, repeating this a few times so I can adjust to his length. It’s driving me mad and I writhe under him, feeling every inch of him as he slowly moves in and out of me. He pulls out, his hips pausing as he looks down at me and it’s like time stops. Just for a moment. Then his lips crash to mine as he pushes forward quickly, sliding into me in one fast movement and I cry out, my hands gripping his biceps, nails digging into his skin as his hips set a fast pace, his direction and speed adjusting to my moans of pleasure. Every time he pushes in, he hits a spot somewhere at the back of me, a place no one has touched, and it sends sparks through my vision, my entire body like a livewire as he pushes me towards the edge.
“Fuck, Benny, I’m gonna-” my body ignites, pleasure radiating out from my cunt, his name tumbling from my lips in praise, begging him to keep going, or stop, or do it again. I have no idea, my head so engulfed in pleasure. 
“Fuck!” He yells, pressing into me one last time before he grunts, little pants and gasps tumbling from him. His head falls to my chest as he comes down. 
We stay like that for several moments, trying to catch our breath. Eventually, Benny pulls out, tossing the condom in the trash can by the bed before rolling onto his back next to me.
“What’s your third favorite dinosaur?”
I laugh, my entire body moving with it as Benny joins in, tears running down our cheeks as my movements turn me towards him. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that question, let alone just after sex.”
Benny shrugs, smiling. “Had to break the tension and awkwardness somehow.” 
“Well that definitely works!”
His face grows serious. “You didn’t answer the question.”
After that laughing fit, I think on it a moment. “Pterodactyl. Because they can fly.”
Benny nods. “Interesting. What’s your favorite then?”
“Nope. I’m saving that answer for after round 2.”
His eyes grow dark almost instantly. “Round 2? Like, tonight?”
“Well, my friend gave me a whole row of condoms and I don’t want to take any home.”
—----
A few hours later, I’m laying in Benny’s bed, thoroughly fucked, Benny sprawled across the bed on his stomach, lightly snoring. He’s so fucking beautiful. But then Sage’s words echo in my head “It’s just a rebound. Have fun and bounce.” I sigh, unsure of what to do. I actually do like Benny, but is that just because he’s the first guy to actually pay attention to me in a long while? Self-doubt seeps in, my ex’s hurtful words and actions taking away the blissful feeling I’d had moments before. I shake my head, telling myself that if any of it was true, I wouldn’t be in a gorgeous man’s bed, a man who just spent the last few hours pulling every spark of pleasure possible from me. 
I quietly stand, gathering up my clothes. I get them on and lace up my boots, trying not to wake Benny. It’s better if I leave before he wakes up. Rebounds don’t work out anyway, so why prolong the inevitable? 
I turn to head towards the door and see the hotel pad of paper and pen next to the phone on the dresser. I stare at it a moment before grabbing the pen, scrawling a quick “Thank You” with a heart at the end. I slide it under his keys and walk to the door, glancing back at the sleeping form of Benny, the man who just restored my confidence. I close it quietly behind me, making sure the lock clicks into place and request an Uber to take me home. 
—----
Over the next few weeks, I try to get Benny out of my head. I try to stop thinking about him or talking about him. I know he’s a rebound, and those relationships don’t work out, as Sage has reminded me more than once. And I’m not sure I’m ready for a new relationship. I think. But talking to him had been so easy, effortless. Like we had been friends since forever. In a moment of desperation, I looked up the hotel on my Uber app and called it, knowing they wouldn’t give me any information about Benny. I can’t blame them. I don’t even know his last name. 
—----
2 lines. The pink lines emerge bright against the white of the testing stick, showing me the same result as the other 4 pregnancy tests I’d taken. My stomach lurches again and I make it to the toilet just in time. I close the lid and flush, wiping my mouth with a washcloth as I stare at my reflection. How the fuck did this happen? We’d used a condom every time, and he used them correctly. It must have been a faulty condom. Fuck, Benny. How am I going to tell him? No really, how? I don’t even know his last name and now I’m having his child. A knock at the door pulls me from my spiral.
“Rea?”
I sniff and wipe my face again. “Pregnant.”
She’s silent for just a beat. “Can I come in?”
I make a noise in approval and she opens the door, heads directly for me and pulls me into a hug where I let myself lose it. Tears streaming down my face, dry heaving breaths, all of it. It takes me a while to calm down enough to talk. Sage wipes my face with a cool cloth and it helps to soothe me a bit more. 
“Are you going to tell him?”
I scoff. “How, Sage?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Call the hotel? They have to have his info.”
I shake my head. “They won’t give it to me. Especially since I don’t know his last name.”
Sage cocks her head to the side. “How do you know?”
“Oh. I uh, I may have called a few weeks ago to uh try and uh…find. Him.”
She opens her mouth and then closes it. “That doesn’t really matter now. Do you know what you want to do?”
There’s so much I don’t know. I don’t know Benny’s last name. I don’t know where he lives, just that it’s local. I don’t know what he’d even say. I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know a lot. But there’s one thing that I did know right away.
“I’m keeping the baby.”
Sage takes a deep breath and nods once. “I can’t wait to be an auntie.”
—----
“Come on, Rea! You need to get out.”
I sigh, rubbing the side of my belly. “I’m 6 months pregnant, Sage. I don’t belong at an MMA fight.”
Sage copies my sigh and places her hand over mine. “You’ve been cooped up in your room for weeks. Just…come out to get some fresh air?”
“By sitting in a crowded auditorium surrounded by drunks?”
Sage shrugs. “I’m sure they won’t be drunk drunk. Besides, Henry has a special section all roped off just for us.” 
Henry is super sweet. The burly bear sized, flannel clad man from Mick’s had fit right into our friendship, even becoming a sort of surrogate brother for me. And it’s clear to me that he loves Sage with everything he is just by the way he looks at her.
I sigh again, shrugging in a defeated manner. Sage squeals and grips my arm. “Thank you! Oh, you’ll have fun! Just wait and see!”
So now I find myself in a crowded auditorium, surrounded by people drinking. Well, ok the crowd isn’t bad around us. Sage was right - Henry had literally roped off an entire section just for us and glared at anyone who tried to grumble about it. He was really into MMA and had a couple of cousins that were fighting so he always had tickets to some match that was happening. Are they called matches? I don’t know. 
Whatever they’re called, we’re a few in, Henry leaning over to tell us about each of the fighters as they’re announced. These matches are pretty brutal - I didn’t realize just how violent they can get, even with rules in place. The last match ends and the guy with the mop comes back out, cleaning away the blood that came from the last guy losing several teeth with a blow. Once cleaned, the microphone squeaks back on to announce the next fighters.
“From Red Feather Lakes, Colorado, standing 6’3, weighing in at 195 pounds, I give you BEN MILLER!”
A familiar memory scratches at the back of my head as the crowd screams and the doors open from the locker rooms somewhere in the throngs of people now on their feet. Henry leans in to yell in my ear.
“This guy is great! He’s kicked my cousin’s asses a few times! He…”
Whatever he said after fades into the background, which has dimmed to a loud hum, as Ben Miller struts into the ring, tossing his shirt to the side, revealing a very familiar tattoo and his face finally comes into my view.
Benny. 
My stomach leaps into my throat, my heart hammering through my chest as I stare down at the man who I could never shake from my mind, even before I was having his child. Which he doesn’t know about. 
A bell dings and Benny takes a few steps towards his opponent, who immediately clocks him in his jaw, Benny’s head flying backwards. The man manages to get a couple more hits in, Benny almost absorbing all of the hits. But then the man hesitates and Benny takes that moment to attack, winding his way around the ring, jabbing at his opponent in swift, concise, planned motions. The man only stays up for a few more seconds before crumbling to the ground and giving in. The crowd goes wild as the ref holds Benny’s arm in the air, blood trickling down from his nose, a giant smile on his face. My stomach lurches and I quickly stand, yelling something about the bathroom to Sage as I grab my jacket and run for the doors, the room suddenly too small and loud. I shove open the arena’s double doors and stumble out into the nearly empty hallway. The doors close behind me and I pause a moment, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. But then the doors open behind me again and I attempt to stand up right.
“Rea?”
Benny’s voice echoes down the hallway and through me, my insides simultaneously tightening with nerves but also excited and swooning at his fucking calming tone. My back is to him but I don’t move. He takes a step closer.
“Rea? Is that you?”
Fuck. This isn’t how I would want him to find out. But how would he find out? It’s not like I could find him. I didn’t even know his last name. I don’t-
“Are you ok?”
His voice is closer now, only a few steps behind me. I swallow hard, willing myself to hold it together as I turn to face him, keeping my jacket covering my belly. His bright blue eyes immediately find mine, a smile quicking spreading across his beautiful face. He’s still shirtless and I have to focus to keep my eyes on his face.
“Rea! It is you! I thought I saw your face in the crowd! Did you see me fight?”
I manage a small smile. “Y-yeah. I did. Congrats.”
He shrugs. “Thanks. That guy was easy but when I saw you, I thought maybe he’d hit my head harder than I thought. What…I mean uh, how are you?”
I sigh, my small smile dropping. “I…I have to tell you something.”
His expression turns serious. “Ok. But if it’s about me not calling you, you sort of left me without a last name or number.” He chuckles but stops when I don’t react. 
I hold his gaze a moment longer before letting my jacket fall to the side, exposing my belly under my form fitting black dress. His eyes immediately fall to my belly, his head turning to the side as he takes it in. I can see the moment it clicks, only a second or 2 after I moved my jacket, his eyes widening as his brain works double time to do the math. He points to himself.
“Is that…am I…the dad?”
I nod, rubbing my hand along the side of my belly where the baby is currently moving. “Yes.” I wait for the yell or scoff of disbelief, storming off, telling me I won’t get anything. All of what I had anticipated. But when I look up at him I see tears shining in his bright blues.
“You’re not fuckin’ with me?” His eyebrows pinch together, enhancing the shine from his tears and I shake my head.
“No. You’re the only one I’ve been with since my ex.”
His eyes shift down to my belly again and his hands start to reach out, but then he stops, looking back up at me. “May I?”
I give him a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”
Benny drops to his knees in front of me, placing each of his large hands on either side of my belly, rubbing small circles into my skin. I take his hand and move it, placing it right over where I’d just felt movement. 
“He was just kicking over here.”
His eyes shoot up to mine. “A boy? I’m gonna have a son?”
Fuck how can his eyebrows do that? “Yeah. A son.”
And the tears start to fall, quietly streaking down his cheeks as he laughs, trying to dab at them with the hand I hadn’t just moved. “Hey, little man. It’s me. Your dad.” A hard kick lands right in Benny’s hand and he whoops, rubbing the spot with his thumb. “You got your old man’s feet!” He continues to talk to my belly in the middle of the hallway, not caring if anyone sees him. His face is animated and lit up, despite the dried blood caked under his nose and for a second, I can see an entire future laid out before us. A wedding, a house, dancing together, maybe more kids. The love. It’s only when I snap out of this fairytale vision that I realize I was smoothing back his hair. I yank my hands back and drop them to my sides.
“Shit I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
He glances up at me. “Nah it’s ok. Actually, it felt good.” He watches me for a moment before his expression hardens. “Ok I need to get off this floor.”
He waves away my offer of a helping hand, gesturing towards my belly as he groans, standing to his full height before stretching out his legs. “I’m gettin’ too old to be kneeling on hard ass floors.”
We’re quiet for several moments, each of us just watching the other. 
“Why did you leave without sayin’ anything?”
I take a deep breath. “Benny, I…I’m sorry. I thought about you after that night. A lot. My friend had told me to just make it a rebound, to get my ex out of my head. Which it did, but what I didn’t expect was..well..you. I liked, well…like you a lot. You make me laugh, have some amazing stories, you’re funny, and hot as hell. But you also make me feel seen and heard. Like I wasn’t just there for convenience, which is ironic considering how we met, I realize that. I thought about trying to find you but the hotel wouldn’t tell me anything and I didn’t have anything to go by. And then I found out I was pregnant and I feel so guilty for not t- telling y- you, but I di-didn’t know h-how. I’m so s-s-sorry!” I can’t fight the pregnancy hormones anymore and the tears come, streaming down my face as I try to turn away, looking down and wiping furiously at my face. But then he’s there, pulling me towards him as best he can, his hand cradling the back of my head. 
“Hey, it’s ok. I never did tell you my last name or ask for your number neither. I could’ve but I didn’t.” My crying slows and he pulls back just enough to look down at me, wiping away a tear. “And I’ve regretted it ever since. I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you either, Rea. But I really had no way of finding you. But now that we’ve found each other again, can I have your number? I’d really like to take you to dinner.”
I let out a shaky chuckle. “It’s ok, Benny. You don’t have to do that.”
He cocks his head. “Do…what?”
“Take me to dinner. Listen, you can be as involved as you want. I won’t hold you to anything. I just wanted you to know. But you don’t have to-”
“No. I’m not asking you out because you’re pregnant. I’m asking you out because I’ve wanted to for months and regretted it every day that I didn’t.”
“Benny, really. It’s ok.”
“No, I- will you wait right here a moment?”
I nod and he places his hand on my belly once more, his son giving him another thump before he practically runs back through the double doors. Once they close, I walk over to the wall and lean my back against it, my emotions running through me. Is he telling the truth? Were we both just fucking idiots? That’s an obvious yes. But still, I don’t want him to feel like he owes me. It would be nice to hang with him again, though. No, Rea. Don’t make him feel forced. The double doors fly open and Benny comes running up to me, his wallet in his hand. 
“I don’t need money, Ben-”
He shakes his head. “No. Well I mean if you need it, I’ll gladly give it but that’s not…here.” He slides out a small slip of paper from behind his driver’s license and unfolds it, handing it to me. 
It’s the thank you note I scribbled to him and left in the hotel.
Tears well in my eyes again. “You..you kept this?” 
His eyes sparkle as they look at me. “Hell yeah I did. I told you, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. But I had no way of findin’ you. I went to the bar every night hoping to see you walk in. But I never did.”
“I got too busy with work and then..” I gesture down to my belly and he laughs, placing a hand on my stomach again.
“Yeah I can’t blame you for not wanting to be in a bar. Especially your first trimester.”
My eyebrows raise. “What do you know about trimesters?”
“My sister was a hot fuckin’ mess during hers. Sick all the time, emotional, all of it. She felt bad about it too no matter how much we told her not to worry. My niece is 5 now and has the attitude to match.” He chuckles. “I can’t wait to meet this little guy..my little guy. Ours? Fuck this is hard to say.”
“Either way, I’m just glad you can say it.” I clutch the paper in my hand for a moment before handing it back to him. 
“So when’s that dinner?”
We’re married a year later. 
---------------------------------
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