#haven't we suffered enough because of her!

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Name Day - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Jinx's love life is complicated...

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

"You still haven't told me," Ekko says, and there's a hoarse hitch in his throat, "what you want."

"Want for what?"

"Your Name Day."

Jinx smiles.

Lifting one pale hand, she strokes a pattern into the bare curve of his shoulder. Zephyr leaves, looping in invisible spirals. He doesn't flinch; but he's close enough that she can see the flecks of deep-amber in his eyes darken to burnt coffee. His skin holds the same aroma: something clean, yet enticingly sharp.

It's a scent that's always clung to him, for as far as she can stretch memory's fingers. And for as long as she remembers, it's always stirred a peculiar sensation in her belly.

Something that leaves her both hungry all over and yet deeply satisfied at once.

Jinx breathes in, and holds it.

"I mean," Ekko goes on, his palm callused and warm on her kneecap. "We missed a lot of years. What're you supposed to get somebody who shoots at you half the time?"

"I'm not shooting at you now."

Though she could, if she wanted. PuffPuff is nestled between their bodies, snug inside her thigh-holster. For the moment, though, the danger's dormant. The gun may as well be a trusting little piggy tucked safely under a blanket.

There's no gap for a bullet to break on. And though both she and Ekko are fully-clothed, the moment's too bare for concealment.

This is Neutral Territory; these are naked feelings.

Neither is completely safe.

"There's lots of things I want," Jinx says, as her fingers itsy-bitsy spider up the curve of his bicep. "Problem is, most of 'em don't belong to me."

"And that's ever stopped you?"

"Nope."

She tips her chin; not quite meeting his querying gaze. Eye contact's a kind of trap; she hates being cornered.

But cornered she is; by the gentle pressure of his hand against her leg; by the cramped intimacy of the motorcar; by the drain of mutual antagonism they've been circling for months now.

No more blitzkriegs of bullets; no high-octane smackdowns. This is no longer a game. They've played too hard for the rules to be fair anymore.

Here, under the glow of a moon just shy of ripe, it's a dance. And in the stillness, they're in-sync: step for step, breath for breath, beat for beat.

Close as only a pair of clockwork hearts can be.

 "Look," Ekko says, because Mister Clever-Clogs has got to talk his way through whatever is incognito, even if that means blowing his own cover. "I didn't invite you here expecting anything. I don't. Not really. I just wanted..."

Jinx quirks a brow. "To talk to me?"

"Ye-eah." His voice cracks a tiny bit; a smile breaks the taut line of his jaw. "Guess so."

"So: talk."

"I—"

She scoots closer, tucking herself easily against him. Her blue head nestles on his breastbone. His chest's a hard curve; his heartbeat a tripwire cadence. She feels the tightly-coiled strength hidden in the lean armature of muscle. He's packed on pounds and inches since they'd last squared off on the Bridge. In place of puppy fat, there are accented angles: a firmer cut to the arms, a squared-off jaw, a broader shoulderspan.

She's reminded, viscerally, that the boy she'd spent a childhood chasing through backalleys—first as friends, then as foes—is almost full-grown.

His maturity should disquiet her; send her fleeing back to Silco's embrace. She was taught to give grown men wide berth growing up—her Daddy, for all his foibles, believed the best target's kept between the crosshairs. And Zaun's streets teemed with big, dumb bullies whose cojones outweighed common sense.

It took a fistful of firepower and a gutful of bloodlust to send 'em packing.

Jinx always carried both in excess.

Then she'd met Viktor—her wise, wasting Vitya. So pretty, with his fragile, haunted features and his aura of deathly calm, honed by decades of suffering. Like called to like; magic tangled where bodies dared not tread. She'd spent a summer breathing in his arid affections: sideways smiles traded over late-night hypotheses; cultured intonations lulling her racing mind into stillness; long-fingered hands, unhurried and precise, adjusting her measurements to bridge the gap where blind inspiration faltered.

He was safe. Safer still with his daredevil dreams of an unblemished sky, and a city reborn from scratch. With such high-swooping hopes, what did the secret stirrings of an eighteen-year-old girl matter?

Then they'd traversed to the Void, and matter ceased to hold meaning.

That day—in that rippling elsewhere of silvered sands and starfall and supernovas—she'd threaded the seams of herself to Viktor's. She'd left girlish fantasies at the wayside; she'd yielded her spirit to his, an apotheosis without parallel, surrender made sublime.

She became the magic. He became the mirror.

It was a fusion beyond mortal ken.

Except...

Except something was missing.

In the mortal plane, Viktor's soul-threads remain stitched tight to hers. The austere adulation that slips—ghostly and gilded—into her senses holds no equal, not on earth. They'd made a heaven of nothingness in the liminal. Naturally, her true self belonged there; in another realm entirely, removed from mere flesh.

Yet here, in the flesh, Jinx is alive.

Alive, and burning to be touched.

What would Viktor think, watching her nuzzle the curve of Ekko's throat? Knowing she's pledged to him in the aether—yet her heart beats hardest here? With a kid-king who rules the roost over a bunch of nobodies, but nourishes her deep-set hurts as if they're his own. Who has loved her at her weakest and loathed her at her wildest, but can't resist her when she's balanced on the fragile equilibrium between both extremes?

Viktor, Jinx thinks, would forgive her.

Viktor forgives everything. He's transcended limitation, become untouchable.

Whereas Ekko is touchable. And when he touches her, she feels it in every fiber of herself: messily, ecstatically, irrevocably.

What's it mean, Jinx wonders, as Ekko's lips butterfly her temple, that one man has her soul at knifepoint, but another one's holding her heart hostage? What's it say that she and Viktor fit together just right, but she and Ekko were built from perfectly mismatched puzzle pieces? What does it matter if she needs them both, but in ways so opposite they might as well be a different language?

How does she make the ends meet?

Especially when her life—her death—still hangs on Silco's strings? And her past—her future—still hinges on Vi's?

Her whole being seems composed of pieces that don't align. Broken fragments orbiting the very inverse of centrifugal force.

(One day, she'll write a book about it. An epic adventure of slapstick comedy, gunpowder tragedy, and interdimensional travel. All revolving around a revolution, because revolution's just love by another name.)

(Like magic.)

Ekko's fingertips trace up her spine. Jinx's trance fades.

[balkanradfem]

Alright, this one is for all the people who read my 'spatula' and 'roommate emergency' posts. Because if you suffered trough those long whiny posts you deserve to know the insane continuation/ending to the story. Warning for high levels of drama and plot twists. Under cut because long.

So, after all of the emergency and spatula debakl, I was starting to feel slightly less warm to my roommate; not enough to be mean, but I decided to focus on my own stuff and not give her as much attention. We were still saying hi and casually chatting, but I wouldn't take food if she offered. She bought some fruit juice and told me to drink it, and I didn't wanna be mean so I just said 'you should drink it too', and ignored it. I will not be mollified with some fruit juice.

I felt happier focusing on myself, but I also started to get a little anxious, because what if the roommate gets mad at me, and then moves out? And then I thought, wait, that's an insane thought. Nobody moves out of a place because their roommate is a bit withdrawn and depressed, and doesn't give them tons of attention. Besides, I haven't done anything ever to cause her harm or distress, I'm just living my life and leaving her to hers. I'm fine.

So yesterday late evening, I went to the bathroom and noticed all of her shampoos and shower gels were missing, and immediately got worried about it. Why would she remove all her bathroom stuff, unless she is actually moving out? But she never said anything. It was already so late at night, I couldn't go bother her about it. It was 11 pm. I tried to not worry about it and fall asleep, but I couldn't. Thinking how maybe she's moving out, and then I'd be alone looking for a roommate in January when the bills are the worst, filled me with anxiety. How would I pay my rent? I heard her then, leaving her room and going into the bathroom. I made a split-second decision to get up and confront her about it. I needed to be sure.

I caught her in the hallway, and asked 'Hey, I saw you took all of your shampoos, are you leaving? If you're leaving I need to know.' She smiled at me and then reassured me that if she was leaving, she'd tell me. She then showed to me how a lot of her hair started falling out, and she thinks it's because of the shampoo, so she threw it away and now needs a new one. Oh okay, I thought, that's a relief. I told her thanks for explaining, and how I got so worried I couldn't sleep. She laughed at me for being silly and worrying, and I grumbled 'don't laugh at me' as I went back to my room and wished her a good night. She seemed so happy I talked to her, probably because I wasn't initiating any conversations lately.

Next morning, I woke up sad, so I was moping in my room, and at one point she stopped by my room asking if I was okay, and if I'm going to work. I replied weakly that I was fine (I wasn't, I was kinda sobbing and forgot my room door was open) and that I didn't have work that day. She said okay. I heard her leave.

After I calmed down from my sadness, I realized I needed to contact her employer, because she was supposed to pay her share of the bills, and even though I reminded her two days ago, she forgot, and I needed that money. I hate bothering people about money, so I just sent a little 'how about today?' message thinking that was friendly enough. Her employer responded with 'sure I'll send you the money via [roommate name], she still isn't at work.' I responded with 'she left, she should be there soon'.

And then I thought, maybe I was wrong when I heard her leave, so I got up, knocked on her door, and said her name to check if she was still there. No response. I pushed the door open.

My heart sank to the bottom of my feet.

The room was empty. The bed was empty. There was a mess on the floor but mostly trash. Her things were gone. Her clothes were gone. The key to the apartment was on the table.

I was immediately stricken with shock, and the realization that she lied to me yesterday, when I anxiously asked if she was leaving, she smiled and reassured me that she wasn't leaving while she was already packing her bags! But why?

I panicked then, thinking what I should do next. Was she okay? Was she safe? Did she go to a friend's place? Should I call her employer and check if she still went to work? But that's probably not what the roommate wanted, I needed to find her and ask her why, and what to tell to her employer, because I didn't know the right answer. I grabbed my bike and headed outside and tried to find her in the city.

No luck. After half an hour I understood too much time has passed, she could have been anywhere. She's left and cannot be found. I couldn't call her, because her phone doesn't have a real SIM card so calls don't work. I relented and called her employer to check if she was at work, and to try and find out what happened.

I needed to be calculated in order to get any kind of information, so I called and said 'Hi, just checking if [roommate's name] got to work safely?' And employer says 'No, she's still not at work'. So I go 'Did something happen yesterday? Something is wrong'.

Her employer was extremely evasive on what exactly happened. She started listing events like 'she wouldn't clean the windows, we had a media day yesterday and she had to talk to the cameras, she got mad about something, said she didn't want to work, that her head hurts, but wouldn't sign the form saying she's quitting, then she changed her mind and asked for a free day, but she already had two free days, she was unreasonable' it was a mumble-jumble of events I couldn't put together right. And then I finally told her that [roommate's name] is gone. She took her things and left the key. The employer didn't even seem that shocked. I was still in shock. I asked her to call me if she managed to get in contact.

I was still struggling to accept just what had happened. I then remembered that even though we never used it, at one point I added her on facebook, and maybe this could be our point of contact. I wanted to talk to her just one last time, to find out what happened at work that forced her to leave, and to say goodbye. I couldn't accept that she is just gone after all that, with no explanation, no goodbye.

I went to the park, connected to the internet and frevently searched for the little icon in my messenger. I found her. I sent her a message saying 'Hey, please tell me why you left. I won't bother you, I just need to know why.'

No response. She was online. I knew she saw it. But nothing.

I couldn't accept it. I tried calling her on facebook. She immediately blocked me.

I was left staring at my phone in disbelief. This was it. This was all I would ever get for closure. I'd never find out what had happened. Not from her employer, and not from her.

I felt heartbroken but at the same time had no time to deal with the emotional impact, because I had incoming panic about rent and bills! Her employer would definitely not want to pay her dues now that she was not even living there anymore, and I needed a roommate to stay afloat. Then I remembered, there was one person who viewed the apartment a month ago and wanted to move in, but wanted a solitary room – maybe she'd be interested in it still, since solitary room was now free.

I took my luck and called the woman. After I'd explained who I was and why I was calling, she was delighted. 'I thought about you every day!' she said excitedly. As a lesbian, I love a woman saying that to me, but, it was not the time. She's a 60yo divorced straight lady and I have to keep it together. She said she would move in tomorrow evening, and I said okay, not believing her fully because honestly who can you believe? 'I would tell you if I was leaving' was still ringing in my ears.

I knew now what I needed to do. Go home and... clean out the apartment.

It was as sad as you can imagine. I had to take down the christmas decorations that we had put up together, because the new person would surely find it odd to see a christmas tree at the end of January, and I just think it's nice so why take it down. I had to go clean out roommate's room, which had a fair amount of trash in it, and I realized, some stuff from her work, the key to her workplace, her working clothes. I understood I'd have to return those to her employer, who later called me to ask about it. I said I would bring it immediately.

Her employer wanted to talk to me, but only to convince me that the roommate was a lazy, messy, unmotivated and disobedient slob, which I didn't believe. I knew this lady was abusive and mean to my roommate and likely the reason roommate left. She was trying to paint my roommate as the villain so badly because she wanted to cover up her own abuse. I didn't believe any of it and I left. She didn't give me any money for bills. She promised to give it later.

I went home, and continued with my cleaning journey. I found some interesting things my roommate left behind. She left some random food items, like some oil and pasta, and then one transparent produce bag filled with something white. Rice, I thought? It was salt. Then, while clearing out her table, I found 3 pens, and realized all three were mine. Later I found a 4th pen, also mine. There was also some stationary paper from my desk. This explained why I could no longer find a pen in my room, they were all somehow ending up here. But I never invited her to just take my pens? It seems that every time she needed to write something down, she'd take a different pen from my desk, and never returned any. Well, that's not a horrible crime, I thought, it's just pens. None of them worked anymore, even though I made sure to only keep working pens on my desk.

I thought about what her employer said, about her being messy and leaving stuff everywhere, and even though I argued back and said to her my roommate was nice, some of it didn't feel so true anymore. She was leaving stuff everywhere, and created lots of messes. The first week she arrived we cleaned together, but that was the last time she cleaned. Every other time it was me cleaning alone. And she would sometimes spill stuff on the floor, or on the stovetop, and leave it. Or leave all counters cluttered to the point where I had to move her stuff before using them. But I thought she was just too busy to pay attention to things like that. Then while cleaning I found one of my fanciest kitchen cloths, with several holes burned trough it. That is a bit too chaotic, I thought. Why must you burn my cloth?

I was riddled with a lack of understanding of what happened; how could she have been here in the morning, talked to me like everything was okay, and now I will never see her again in my life, and never know why? Why would she do that? I have in the past, helped roommates flee from abusive situations, and if they had to quickly move, I would help them pack, lie to their abusers for them, hide their stuff they couldn't take with, so they could come get it later. Why would she find me unsafe to tell the truth to? I would have helped. I would have told her employer whatever she wanted me to. I've been on her side and advocating for her from the start. I convinced the employer when she was sick to let her off work, I held her hand when her eyes were sick, I bought her medicine, I offered to go anywhere and everywhere with her to translate and speak on her behalf when she needed anything. It couldn't have been just because I was moody and sad for a few days. I couldn't understand it.

The only reasons I could think of why she did that, was either she was worried I'd be mad she's leaving, worried I'd try to stop or follow her (which I wouldn't), or someone else instructed her on what to do and they spelled out to her to tell nobody.

The lady who wanted to move in called me again, and said she actually wanted to come and sleep here the same evening, and I now only had a few hours to clean everything out. I was exhausted, shaken, emotioanlly in shambles. But I washed all the windows, cleaned the fridge, washed the furniture and the floor, changed all the decor, put my spare cover and fresh bedding in the other room so the new roommate could sleep there without having to buy anything. The new lady has a list of red flags on her too; some of her behaviour is what I wouldn't want in a roommate, however, what choice do I have. I welcomed her, made her tea, explained all the rules, and then witdrew to my room to eat some peanut butter because I had forgotten to eat all day due to stress and shock.

And then I wrote this down! It's still the same day as I'm writing it. I talked to my roommate in the morning and now a new person I don't know is in that room, and I'm still stunned. What on earth happened today? I still want a phone call with an explanation. I didn't deserve to be left like that. I can't make out what to think of her now, this has never happened to me before. I had people leave on short notice, but never secretly, never while lying to me about what they're doing.

I still feel like she'll come here any second! Like I'll hear her voice again saying hi and how are you. But I never will again. It feels so weird. I'm both sad and relieved. She must be in a better place, far from her employer and with her friends who understand her and can help her find a better job. I'm relieved she's probably safer. But I'm sad about not getting a goodbye. Sad about being blocked, when all I wanted was an explanation. Sad about 'I would tell you if I was leaving'. How many times in life do you get anxious, then reassured that you're worrying for nothing, but then the anxiety turns out to be correct and the person purposefully lied? That doesn't bode well for future references.

I can't figure out if she was a nice person, and there were good reasons warranting her leaving like this, or whether I just misjudged her.

So yeah, unsatisfying as it is, this is the end of my Nepali roommate era, we sure had,,, times, and it sure did, end. I would like to apply for the drama free life from now on please.

[murasaki-cha]

The Prisoner's Throne spoilers!!

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Oak spots Lady Elaine, whispering something to Lady Asha, Cardan’s mother.

WHY THE FUCK IS SHE STILL HERE!?!?!

[girlivealwaysbean]

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[sleepingnexttoagrave]

"imagine a really ugly rock," she says with a laugh, "and i've been chiselling away at it"

[sunderwight]

Headcanon that Shen Yuan was hotter than Shen Qingqiu, actually.

Like yeah SQQ being a cultivator gave him a boost to enough attributes + being in a stallion novel where everyone is either unrealistic hot or dog's butt ugly got the Shen Qingqiu body extra points, and he wasn't bad looking to begin with. Plus not being ill is vastly more important to the new Shen Qingqiu than those extra hotness points (Without a Cure notwithstanding). But part of the reason why he's kind of like, meh, at least I'm not hideous or anything, is because Shen Yuan's original body was a knock out.

I also like him as chronically ill, and, as many people know, beauty standards and sustained suffering are not as incompatible as they should be. Shen Yuan was conventionally attractive in part because conventional beauty standards seem to want everyone slowly dying all the time. But even setting that aside, the man had flawless bone structure, an appealing figure, captivating eyes, and the kind of voice that stopped people in their tracks.

All of which was a contributing factor to his antisocial lifestyle, actually. Despite the fact that Shen Yuan does enjoy company and requires a certain baseline of social enrichment for his enclosure, his internalized homophobia and closeting did not play well with overtures from interested parties (regardless of gender). The only way to minimize the odds of him being asked out on dates was to essentially become a shut-in, especially since even Shen Yuan can only make so many excuses before he himself starts to notice that he's going to a lot of effort to avoid specifically that avenue of socialization. Far better to just remove himself from any risk of it, and then vocally lament that oh no he's just too much of a nerd to get anywhere with women!

Anyway this largely doesn't matter much outside of sheer comedy potential for any situation where SY gets his old body/life back. Like imagine a reveal scenario where the System is going to transport them back to their old lives.

Shang Qinghua: well bro I guess this is gonna be the ultimate test of love, right?

Shen Yuan: what do you mean?

Shang Qinghua: our husbands are gonna see what we looked like back before we were glorious cultivators! they're going to have to track us down in our mundane, kinda shitty pre-transmigration lives! it's gonna be at least a little embarrassing, right?

Shen Yuan: *gets his old body back*

Shang Qinghua, normal human with average looks: ...

Shen Yuan, exemplary 11/10: ?

Shang Qinghua: what. the fuck?? bro what the fuck why are you hot???

Shen Yuan: don't make it weird

Shang Qinghua: make it weird??? why were you sitting at home reading my shitty novel when you could have been out there building your own harem???

Shen Yuan: stop exaggerating

Shang Qinghua: oh my god you've always been like this. this is it, isn't it? it wasn't even brain damage from the transmigration or something--

Shen Yuan: hey

Shang Qinghua: --you've just always been completely unaware, haven't you? every time I wrote a beautiful woman who didn't know her own appeal you'd be jumping down my throat--

Shen Yuan: because that's a stupid trope--!

Shang Qinghua: --JUMPING DOWN MY THROAT EXACTLY LIKE THAT but this whole time THIS WHOLE TIME it wasn't even a glow-up issue, you've just been that, personified, yourself--

Shen Yuan: look I know I'm not ugly but I'm not I'm hardly that good-looking

Shang Qinghua: YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO CRITICIZE THAT TROPE AGAIN! oh my god. how many broken hearts did you leave behind when you died?!

Shen Yuan: none, I wasn't even seeing anyone--

Shang Qinghua: yeah full offense but I am nottt taking your word for that. I bet you had a harem you didn't know about in this lifetime too. I bet you had a fan club, like an anime prince

Shen Yuan: *mumbling*

Shang Qinghua: what was that?

Shen Yuan: I said... only in high school...

Shang Qinghua: oh my god

Shen Yuan: it wasn't a big deal!

Shang Qinghua: *frantically trying to see if he can find any trace of it on the internet now*

[chaoticwriting]

THE FATHER 2

Part 1

After the last incident, Danny totally expects the public to be afraid of him or even persecute him for killing the Joker. He did kill in front of a live stream after all. What he doesn't expect is the public giving their full support to him. Almost every single news media paints him in a good light, saying he is just protecting his children and bringing up all his previous charity.

However, there is one big problem Danny doesn't foresee. Danny doesn't even know about the problem because his children are the one that are suffering from it.

-Gotham Academy-

Emma: *Slamming her phone on the table* For the love of god, stop making thirst trap of my dad. He is too old for some of you (He is 20).

Becky: I know right. This is like the sixth thirst trap video that I see of dad.

Carl: I hate this so much. My crush just accepted my confession but on the condition I will introduce her to dad.

Larry: And you agree?

Carl: What? No! Of course not.

Emma: Ugghhh, this is the worst. Maybe we should ask Uncle Tucker to remove all of Dad's thirst trap online. I'm so done with this.

Larry: I don't know. This is the first time girls decide to talk to me voluntarily. I really am enjoying this attention.

Carl: You're happy now until one of the girls decides to confess to you and just as you thought because she likes you, it is because she has a crush on dad.

Larry: I know you just experienced it but you don't need to curse me like that.

Carl: Hmph.

Larry: Hey, has anyone seen Colin? I haven't seen him since last night.

Becky: *Whispersing* Don't you hear? Colin got shot after he went to patrol the night before yesterday. Dad grounds him cause he tries to sneak out injured last night.

Carl: Oof. Colin really doesn't learn does he? Dad has super sense. He literally can't sneak out.

Larry: Yeah. I don't even know why he wants to be a vigilante so much. I guess he is just kind of something. Couldn't be me to be honest.

Emma: Of course he is not like you. You are not even capable of waking up by yourself in the morning.

*Riiiinngggg*

Becky: Well that is our break then. Let's go to class.

Larry: Eh, it's not like Miss Brown gonna scold me if I am a little late anyway. She has been trying to get Dad's number from me for a while now.

Carl: Does dad even have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend? Hell, a partner? I never saw him gone on a date once so far.

Emma: Chances are probably super low. Like to say he is dense is an understatement. A woman tried to flirt with him once but he just replied to all the flirting with the straightest face possible.

The rest: *Giggles*

-Gotham Libraries-

Contrary to what his kids have been believing in, he actually knows when someone is flirting with him. It's just that he takes note from the dense anime protagonist and uses it in daily life whenever he is not interested in a person flirting with him. Which is like daily.

But here is the problem. He can respond to a flirt very easily. He learns a lot of that from when he was dating Sam. But he never actually flirts with someone first. And he isn't sure just how to approach the problem.

Having decided that he has stayed long enough, Danny picks a random book from the space section and brings it to the checkout table.

Danny: Hey Barbara.

Barbara: Hey Danny. Borrowing another book?

Danny: Yeah. I just finished the previous one last night. It is a good book. Thanks for the recommendation.

Barbara: You're welcome. How's the kids doing? Still causing trouble for you?

Danny: It's the same shenanigans everyday. Going to lectures, doing paperwork, taking care of the kids. What about you?

Barbara: It's the same with me. Barely any people come to the library these days. Usually it's only either you or my friends.

Danny: Oh. Errmm, Barbara.

Barbara: Yes?

Danny: Would you be free this weekend?

Barbara: Are you asking me on a date?

Danny: Depends. If it is, what would you say?

Barbara: Hmmm, let me think.

Danny fidgets as Barbara taps her finger on the counter. Barbara loves to tease Danny since he is so cute when he is nervous.

Barbara: I think I am free this weekend. So I am available for a date.

Danny's face beams a smile as he hears that.

Danny: So is that a yes?

Barbara: What do you think, big guy?

Danny: Then I will come pick you up at your apartment then?

Barbara: Come pick me up at my dad's house. I will be ready at 5.

Danny: Okay. Have a good day.

Barbara: You too.

Danny then walks out of the library, skipping a little. He has been gathering courage to ask Barbara out on a date for a long time now. They first met when Danny first borrowed a book from a library. It's nothing crazy. Just interaction between two people. But after meeting up a few more times, Danny realizes that he might have a crush on her. After getting convinced by Tucker and Sam, Danny decided that today is the day he asks her out. And he succeeded.

Now, it is just to make sure that the date goes well.

-Clocktower-

Batman: That's it for tonight. Everyone returns back to the cave.

Black Bat/Spoiler/Red Robin: Roger.

Oracle: Hey, B. Can I have a day off this weekend?

Batman: Why?

Oracle: I have a date that night.

Spoiler: You are dating someone?

Oracle: It's not official yet. He only just asks me out on a date this morning.

Batman: Yes. Keep your comms up. In case a breakout happens your way.

Oracle: Okay.

Red Robin: Who are you going on a date with?

Oracle: Danny.

Spoiler: As in that Danny?

Oracle: Yes.

Spoiler: Oh wow! You work fast. How do you know him?

Oracle: He always comes to the library to borrow books. I met him long before he became famous so it is not so hard to talk with him.

Black Bat: Is he nice?

Oracle: He is very nice. It's very hard to even make him mad. The only time I remember him being in a slightly bad mood is at Christmas. He doesn't like it apparently. Wait, Hood is entering the line.

Red Hood: Oracle, you betray me!

Oracle: Tough luck loser. How do you know anyway?

Red Robin: I told him just now.

Red Hood: Yeah! You dare ask him out on a date first before me? I will remember this.

Oracle: He is the one that actually asks me out. We are going on an official date this weekend. I'll take a very nice picture of us together so that you can see from afar.

Red Hood: But your status still isn't official yet. I still have a chance.

Oracle: Over my dead body.

Red Hood: Oh, I will.

Spoiler: Errr, guys. What is happening?

Red Robin: They have a bet on who will get to date Danny first. Apparently Hood gets a massive crush on this guy after what happens in the livestream. Oracle gets the news and they quarrel a little bit. After that I propose a competition between the two.

Spoiler: But both of you don't know that Oracle is already close with Danny. Girl, that's dirty.

Oracle: All is fair in love and war.

Batman: What is his background?

Red Robin: As far as I can see, he is pretty clean. There is even what I suspect some vigilante works that he might have done because he is related to the disbandment of GIW that were supported by both his parents and his godfather. But after some digging into the old GIW files, there are traces of Danny and his friends helping the local ghost hero fighting either other ghosts or the agents themselves. There was also the unexplained money that he suddenly had early on in his career as CEO but so far, it doesn't seem like anything bad.

Robin: Hmmm.

Red Robin: What is it brat?

Robin: I feel like his face is very familiar.

Batman: Explain.

Robin: I need to confirm this with mother. But I am fairly certain that his ancestors have connections with the Al Ghul.

Red Robin: As in blood related?

Robin: No. But there is a book that mother finds about a man who has a very similar appearance to him. The book tells the tale of a kind immortal who spends his lives helping others while learning stuff from them.

Spoiler: A cult of assassins teach young children to be kind?

Robin: Shut it, Brown. I am not finished. The part of the story that interests me is the tale called The Beheader of Demon.

Spoiler: I take it back. That sounds like something a cult of assassins will teach young children.

Robin: The tale tells a story of the immortal meeting a demon who kills people just to find immortality. When the demon finds out that the immortal is well, immortal, he pursues the immortal, trying to kill him and forces the immortal to give away his immortality to him.

Red Robin: What happened next?

Robin: The Demon's head is severed and the Demon's subordinates run away bringing the Demon's body to the pool of revival.

Spoiler: So is this a true story?

Robin: Mother confirms it is a true story. I do not know whether he is a true immortal or not. However, I do know that his ancestors or maybe even him, is good enough to beat grandfather even if he has backup.

Red Hood: What about the other tales?

Robin: There is nothing of note. Some mention of the immortal's supernatural ability, like summoning the dead or the ability to move mountains and divert rivers.

Red Robin: That is not something to take note of?

Robin: No. Because in those stories, the only consistent thing about him is that he is kind. Never harm someone unless provoked.

Batman: Compile all the tales into a file. Red Robin, lists out all the possible powers of target.

Oracle: Oh wow. My date is now a target. How could this get better?

Red Hood: If he is really dangerous, I volunteer to stalk monitor them while they are on the date.

Oracle & Batman: No!

Red Hood: Tsk! Party pooper.

Batman: Red Robin and Spoiler, follow them. Priority is keeping Oracle safe.

Red Robin & Spoiler: *High five* Let's go.

Oracle: Ugghhh, you all better don't mess with my date. Or else I'll make sure you regret it.

Part 3

[bluem1lls]

HEAR ME OUT!!!! se-mi with comphet reader (angst) 😈😈😈

✧₊⁺ you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

se-mi x fem!reader

✦ synopsis: you're so used to this perfect life. your career and your boyfriend. and it's miserable but is comfortable as it can be. until you met her, and now you'll have to spend the rest of your life waking up to be nothing more than his girlfriend, thinking about her saying "i told you so".

content: angst, comphet! reader, se-mi falls for thano's 'straight' girlfriend

authors note: thank you for the request! clearly inspired by good luck babe by chappell roan because i love to suffer jsjdfkfkj, i hope you like it! im sorry ive been posting more short stuff, the week is vvv rough on me with work but ill do everything i can to not stop posting! even if its a small work

✧₊⁺ your boyfriend was acting weird. i mean, he's a man. the first thing that came to mind was 'he's cheating'

✧₊⁺ if the bastard was cheating you would kill him. it was enough that he used both of your savings to place them in bitcoin, and of course.. lost it all.

✧₊⁺ and you forgave him about that (kinda) but cheating? yeah no. you didn't wanted to be like one of those actresses with a cheating boyfriend everyone knew about.

✧₊⁺ so when you decided to follow him a random night and a man invited you to play a game, you were all against it.

✧₊⁺ you were a prestigious actress for god's sakes.

✧₊⁺ "oh. i thought you wanted to know where your boyfriend was heading?"

your eyes widen. what was this? some hooker shit? a betting house?

fine. you needed to find out where he is.

✧₊⁺ of course you ended joining the game to see where your boyfriend was. you dumbass.

✧₊⁺ waking up in a room full of strangers, was sure an.. experience.

✧₊⁺ confused, you stood up. where was your stupid boyfriend and why was he here?

✧₊⁺ "thanos?" i called him, scared. "baby?"

✧₊⁺ as you saw a group of people gathering around a very familiar voice, your fear turned into anger. you ran, pushing everyone sorrounding him.

✧₊⁺ "are you kidding me? this is where you got in? you fucking idiot" i hit his arm as he stared wide eyed at me.

"b-baby what are you doing here?" he chuckled nervous. "you should go home, this is not safe-"

"i wish! but you know, i was following you thinking you were cheating but what the fuck is this? did you lost more money? why are you here-"

"well, i came to win back the money we lost, dont worry baby. when i win this we'll be free!"

i can't believe this.

✧₊⁺ as you turned around to fumble alone, a girl touched your shoulder.

"oh my god, you're the actress on my favorite tv show! can i get a picture"

oh god. here too?

with the best fake smile, you nodded, and suddenly, the same crowd that was sorrounding thanos was now admiring you.

✧₊⁺ there was no doubt that after the first game you wanted to kill him.

"we die!? you brought us to a place where we fucking die if we dont pass the games!?" i screamed at him

"chill baby... youre making a scene. remember that people are watching"

"well, who cares? theyre probably going to die in like two days! just like us you idiot"

✧₊⁺ but just like that you kept playing with your... lovely boyfriend. and his new best friend apparently. god you needed a girl in here. you missed your girlfriends.

so indeed, your boyfriend got you a girl.

✧₊⁺ "i got you a friend so you can stop being... so angry all the time. enjoy life babe, this is a one time experience"

the second game was about to start, we needed two people more in our group.

i was about to punch him as i looked at her.

oh.

✧₊⁺ "hi..i'm-" hello? why was my brain shutting down?

"i know. i think everyone here knows apparently" she plays with her piercing lip, smiling.

✧₊⁺ that made you so nervous???? she got you smiling and twirling your hair??

oh you haven't felt like this in.. so long.

✧₊⁺ so yeah, with every game and her being the only girl (besides you) in the group, you two got close.

like.. way too close.

✧₊⁺ holding hands, protecting eachother, laughing together. you spent more time with her than with your own boyfriend.

✧₊⁺ in your defense, every single minute with her felt... like something you never experienced with him.

✧₊⁺ "why are you still with thanos if you think he's stupid?" she said, rolling her eyes and manspreading besides me, while i kept complaining about my boyfriend.

"he's nice.. he really is"

"you hate him, i dont think is normal to hate your boyfriend you know?"

✧₊⁺ you knew. but what else can you do?

you told her. she knew all abouth how your parents raise you to be this perfect actress, with her perfect husband.

and you already let them down with the 'perfect husband'. you can't disappoint them again.

✧₊⁺ so when her touch made you sigh, when she caressed your hair as you stared into her eyes, when she held your hand to feel you close in every game, trying to protect you more than your boyfriend ever did, or when she whispered sweet nothing's to your ear, making you shiver, all you could do was ignore it.

✧₊⁺ of course, when she realized that it was stupid and you weren't actually going to leave your boyfriend and your perfect life for her, she gave up, looking for something (or someone) that could make her feel better.

✧₊⁺ please, she was hot. she didn't need you.

✧₊⁺ she would never admit that in every girl she kissed after that, she was picturing you.

the way she would be biting your soft pouty lips, how she'd show you your boyfriend was nothing against her. she'd kiss you until you were out of breath, her hands roaming through your body, grabbing your waist, your hips.

she bit her lip as she kept picturing your hands wrapped around her neck, going down her back up and down.

✧₊⁺ she was so down bad it was making her stupid.

she had to do something about this stupid.. crush.

✧₊⁺ so was it a surprise when you found her making out with a random girl in the bathroom? not really.

but was it a surprise when she stared right to your eyes while she did it? i mean.. a little.

✧₊⁺ you scoffed, washing your hands.

"that's disgusting. there are bathroom stalls for that" i said to both.

as the girl turned around, se-mi asked her to leave, saying that 'she'd take care of her later'. ew.

✧₊⁺ she turned around, pissed. yeah, maybe you can get in her head for hours and hours, but ruining her makeout session? you were out of limit.

✧₊⁺ "listen princess-"

"don't call me princess after you made out with a random " i mumble, bitter. "and don't scream at me pretending like you hate me"

her eyes filled with anger.

"listen to me, you can fake being this perfect actress with your boyfriend and everyone else" she said, pushing me against the wall, one of her arms on top of my head, trapping me there. "but not with me. you think i dont see your little lustful eyes? the way you stare at me how i bet you never stared at your boyfriend?"

"b-bullsh-"

"yeah. whatever" she scoffed. "lie to yourself if you want, go fuck the entire common room to prove yourself that you're this pretty straight princess that your parents want you to be, but don't play with me" with every word she said, she got closer to me. our heated bodies breathing almost in sync.

"tell me im lying princess. tell me that if i" she grabbed my chin, softly caressing her lips with mine. my body shivering as my hand grabs her bicep, my nails clawing there, leaving 'c' marks, to ground myself. "do this, you dont feel a thing. c'mon. stop me, pretty girl. tell me you shouldn't" she whispered against my mouth.

✧₊⁺ but the truth is that you couldn't move. you couldn't back away, but you couldn't do this to thanos, to your parents. it wasn't fair.

dad? he had all the contacts he wanted. he would destroy your career in seconds. mom? would never let you step your own house again. oh and your boyfriend? would clearly ruin you on the internet. probably leaking everything about you in seconds. your own fans? people are not as open as we expect them to be.

you can't do this. you can't let yourself have this.

✧₊⁺ "im sorry se-mi" a tear fell, almost wetting her face too because of how close we were.

her eyes shut close. she mumbled something under her breath as she quickly stepped away, breaking whatever moment we had going in.

"i dont want you close to me again" she said, turning to leave as i rushed to follow.

"please, a-at least let me have you as a friend se-mi please" i begged her. tears couldn't stop falling to my cheeks.

"i can't" she said, turning to face me. her eyes roaming my features with a hint of guilt and sadness. "how can i be your friend when i'm so.." she stops, pressing her lips together. "i-i picture you in every girl i kiss. i can't be your friend.

i bit my lip as i hug her. she stiffens but slowly lets herself go, hugging me back. her hand on my hair, softly caressing it for comfort.

"if we get out of here and.. you decide that you're done being his perfect wife, and maybe you want to be happy..with me..i'll be waiting. i promise" she whispers in my ear, kissing my temple.

✧₊⁺ so it goes. after the next game, the nerves make everyone vote to leave and just like that you're actually out.

✧₊⁺ and althought you don't hear from her, you know she's still friends with your boyfriend.

and although she doesn't hear from you, she follows your life like she did. watching every episode of every single show you're in, following you on social media.

and although you guys never cross paths again, if you or your boyfriend ever invite her to 'the wedding', she will throw that invitation to the trash, where it belongs.

✧₊⁺ you miss her every night. mostly, when you wake up feeling cold against the person that's supposed to be your future. you're sure you love her.

and she misses you too. and she knows she loves you. that's why she never tries to contact you again.

✧₊⁺ because she loves watching you smile. even if its not because of her.

[eggonthemoon]

Alien Stage Round 6 Character Analysis and Lyrics Breakdown

Okay so obviously spoilers, don't click Keep Reading if you haven't watched Round 6.

God fuck it's so fucking beautiful, where do I start?

I don't even know what is going on with those rapid shots of what I assume is some form of experiment that Till was involved in. I have no clue what the goal was or if it succeeded but somehow (for no real reason other than that one image of Luka standing behind Till ominously) I feel that Luka is involved with it.

Was this an attempt by Heperu's (Luka's guardian) rival to make a human capable of going up against Luka? Till being the youngest and Luka being the oldest also means that Till's guardian could have caught on to what Heperu was planning to do with Luka and then start experimenting on humans shortly after and it would still somewhat line up with the timeline.

But I'm getting into conspiracy territory, back to suffering!!

Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet

Dissolve me in your gaze

I don't want to let you go

Oh this hurts. Seeing him look so defeated and exhausted, you can tell that even though to the public it's not certain whether Mizi died or not it doesn't matter to him. Because she's still gone away from his world, where he is unable to reach her. He wants to dissolve and die but he also doesn't want to let her go if there is even a sliver of hope that she lives.

Please, leave me scars

Please, hurt me so that

Not a single drop of me remains

Let me drown in you

The footage that plays to these lyrics really show how defeated he is. He refuses to sing, his passion for the art completely dead and buried. And (his guardian I assume) when someone shoves the fact that Mizi is gone in his face he lashes out and punches one of the aliens near him.

Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time

However his heart isn't entirely in it and is quickly apprehended.

He is beyond exhausted and doesn't even protest or put up a fight while (the same alien he punched btw) another alien runs their fingers through his hair.

On your icy lips

Read my soul

Yes, my soul

He hopes that even if Mizi is dead that her spirit watches over him, seeing his soul and by extension, Him, for all that he is. Every thought and breath until he falls asleep is for Mizi.

But didn't we already know this is how he'd be like? Time for something juicier~

Even if your cold words

Carve scars beneath my eyes

May they linger on your tongue

You can break me apart

God this is heart shattering. Even if Till doesn't care for him, even if Till throws hurtful words his way, Ivan will still lie awake at night, cherishing what sliver of attention he is given. It doesn't matter if Till hates him, because as long as he is on Till's mind Ivan is happy. He is entirely in Till's hands, capable of being build up or torn down depending on how much (or how little) he is perceived by him.

Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I'll drown in you

He wants so deeply to be seen by Till, noticed. Till who doesn't let anything hold him down and always picks himself back up became a pillar of hope and strength to Ivan. It didn't matter how or in what context he gets to be seen, so he went out of his way to provoke him just to get Till to look at him even for a moment.

This was mentioned a while back on VIVINOS Patreon but the entire incident where Mizi and Till got attacked by that hound monster was orchestrated by him. I feel like there is two possible reasons for this depending on when in the timeline this takes place.

Either he wanted to test Till's resolve in hopes of being proven wrong about his courage (after all your hopes can't be dashed on the rocks, if you never had hopes to begin with) only for his obsession to end up growing even stronger than before.

Or he tried to let Till get roughed up enough that he'd be transferred (solitary confinement? emergency room?) somewhere else away from the others at Anakt, so they could escape together.

But we all know how that turned out.

Either way what Ivan wants isn't freedom, he's long since given up on that. There's no point in his freedom if the person that inspired him to yearn for it isn't by his side. He needs Till there, his very presence to reassure him that no matter what Till won't falter. But he failed to take account of the one thing that weakens Till's resolve.

Mizi.

Mizi is to Till what Till is to Ivan. And so without Mizi in his world Till crumbles. Since Till will only go where Mizi is and Mizi already gave away her heart to someone else, it's impossible for Ivan to be free while keeping Till in his world.

And so he follows him, resigning himself to a life without freedom.

Sick of these nights to come

To be engulfed in silence

But the distance between them is killing him, and each and every day they come closer to their inevitable doom.

It doesn't matter if they believe the lie the aliens told them, that if they die singing they will be blessed. Because what is the point in that? How can going somewhere far away from the people they love be a blessing?

In your gaze where I am seen

Consume me

Yes, me

His desires mirror Till's. He wants his soul to be seen by him, recognized for his undying love for him. He wants Till to see that he can give him all that Till yearns for in Mizi and more.

To this everlasting melody

Face to face we dance

And yet Till still refuses to look Ivan in the eyes.

Things get a little unclear but since they aren't shown singing here and there's no flashback to accompany the lyrics, we can assume that at this moment Till most likely gave up on singing.

With our story

Lost in forever's embrace

I'm not sure if Ivan intended this from the start or if it's a decision he made then and there but one thing is certain. If Till stops singing then that would mean he forfeits, he'll lose. Till has never once given up. Even when he went back for Mizi that night, he never intended to leave her in the first place. But now without her he crumbles.

And Ivan can't let that happen, not like this.

Moral grey area aside, this scene is so deeply moving to me

And I don't say that in a romantic context, absolutely not. This is something much deeper than just love. This is the culmination of everything they've been through, all those moments lead up to this.

Because this isn't a kiss.

This is Ivan throwing his life away for Till.

Till was going to loose, the only thing that could overturn that is if his opponent attacks him. The kiss was to distract Till and keep him from catching up to what Ivan was planning.

Just look at the contrast between their first and second kiss. As soon as the score board shows Till is in the lead, he gives him a gentle peck on the lips. The contrast is stark and full of meaning. This was the genuine kiss, hidden behind a smokescreen of aggressive bravado created from the previous one.

And it worked. Till was completely convinced that Ivan's intentions was to kill him, and he was fully intent on letting him.

I know a lot of people doubted his intentions. Because he didn't let go of Till's neck the minute he saw their scores, a lot of people assume that this was Ivan trying to drag Till down with him.

But the minute he coughed up blood what does he do?

He smiles.

and let's Till go.

He's only human. He might know logically that Till has won the match. But emotionally he refuses to let go until he is certain.

Until he knows for a fact that he is the one bleeding and dying he'll keep up his charade.

And then.

And only then.

Till truly sees Ivan.

As he dissolves in his gaze.

[antivivziepopparade]

All of the proof that we have that Vivziepop is abusive. (So far....)

While you support this post please go ahead and support my channel to see more about Vivziepop's abusive behavior. Thanks!

1. She rushes her employees.

Season 1 was made in 2020. While Season 2 was made in 2021 while being released with MULTIPLE EPISODES only ONE year later.

That's-

INSANE!

-and im about to tell you why:

The average cartoon needs almost ONE WHOLE YEAR to produce one episode. And this is what we see in MAINSTREAM shows.

Meanwhile, Helluva Boss took only one year (and a half) to make MULTIPLE ENTIRE EPISODES that last over 20 minutes. The longest waiting time for an episode being 8 months. Not even a year, and we get multiple episodes off the drawing board.

You can even see here that it's taken only three years to make 16 episodes. When this is an indie studio, so this should have taken so much longer to make. Yet for some reason, it took only a few years for us to get full seasons. In 2021, we got over 4 episodes alone. Have you ever wondered why these episodes come out so fast while other shows take a lot longer to get new seasons? That's an easy question to ask... Spindlehorse...

Is being ABUSED.

And I have the proof to show.

2. The pay controversy.

Spindlehorse's payment has been under controversy for providing the lowest pay possible to those that work at the studio.

One piece of evidence was given by Adam himself (albeit unintentionally) by saying this:

This kind of pay is highly unstable! And before you say "But he didn't force them to be there-"

LOOK.

The employees themselves admitted that they had no choice. People had no choice and Vivienne Medrano took advantage of that for her own selfish desires. This is disgusting treatment of a studio as small as Spindlehorse. Or any studio for that matter.

Hell! chaifootsteps said once that once Zeurel released that he was paying his animators too low, he deleted one of the tweets showing the low pay and decided to do something to give his employees better wages. Meanwhile, Chimera Bunny pays even less than Viv does and just because paying your workers low is normal in the animation industry- plot twist: Doesn't make it ok!

People have suffered so much in this industry, it's why "New Deal for Animation" exists. The only reason you haven't seen many Vivziepop workers having protests and speaking out is because Vivziepop says things like this behind people's backs if they "dare" do anything she doesn't like:

So that explains as to why so many people remain as "anon" or say nothing at all because they got cold feet. Vivienne's terrible!

Especially since even her top employees have admitted to not being paid enough despite Adam's "I pay them to stay if they make us the most mon-ey!" claims from the article:

Also this:

This is how she speaks about her own employees:

"YOU DONT LIKE HOW I TREAT YOU?! FUCK OFF!"

Straight up abuse.

Also, wasn't Walt Disney known for abusing his employees?

To the point where people had an entire protest in 1914 about it?

Wow... such a healthy workplace treatment comparison. Doesn't make Vivziepop look more like a jerk.... at all! /s

3. She bullies kids/laughed at a sa victim that was sa'ed by her friends. As one kid was bullied into a panic attack (I know them personally) back in about 2020 and Viv decided to vague post about them behind their back even after they apologized.

For someone who's so focused on "forgiving despite cancel culture" she sure likes to blame and harass people for disliking even ONE thing about her show or herself. One thing- and you're harassed over making a meme about a cartoon with fictional characters (What Froot Did that set Vivziepop and Gumball off.)

Secondly, one of her friends sexually harassed a minor.

And instead of acknowledging the sa, Vivziepop wrote this:

She ended up calling it a "joke" and made fun of the victim involved.

This is outright abusive behavior that should not be tolerated.

Children don't deserve to be traumatized this way. Especially over something as simple as making memes about a cartoon (negative or not) or simply telling someone to stop fetishizing abuse.

More on this in this video made by Gummypop:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND-

That's all that I have for now!

Will likely be updating this post in the future. Goodbye!

EDIT:

More evidence of Vivziepop using abusive language and slander against her employees behind their back. Claims of them being a "stalker" (like she did to Kedi and also its clear that she told her employees to say that Kaz was a "stalker" otherwise how else would they be saying these things after she fired them.) along with using abusive language such as "CUNT!" to prefer to Kaz this way in a professional setting I cannot. 💀

More evidence of Vivziepop harassing a kid:

ANOTHER edit:

More evidence, she's burning them the HELL out!

Yet ANOTHER edit:

More evidence of Spindlehorse being abusive:

EDIT:

Even MORE evidence:

The fact that the story AND the storyboards AND the animating for season one's episodes were all done in one year is just so crazy to me like... WHAT?! Either way, this post will continue to extend the more that I find evidence. So remember to look forward to that one!

EDIT:

Sadly no, as animation abuse is so common that the police dont even see it as an issue. The last time I tried to call the police on her they needed a location. The problem? There is no location of Spindlehorse since it's a "private" studio. So because of that viv gets away with abuse despite the obvious implications of her behavior and how many people came out with allegations towards her.

[maliro-t]

The highlight of Veilguard for me is the relationship between Solas and Rook- and I don't know how to write about this on the internet without being acutely aware of other peoples' criticisms (such as there not being enough of it)- so I'll just say up top that I'm not actually intending this as a refutation of any of those. I just want to talk about my experience with the game and why I like it so much, which will probably make obvious where I disagree with some reoccurring critiques I've seen. *

The thing about Solas in this game is that he plays the role of the trickster perfectly. As much as Fen'Harel is a myth or a persona, and the stories we know of him invented or twisted, his role in Veilguard feels like it could slot in so, so easily with the myths, and in many ways directly parallels them. He is sinister and noble, monstrous and sympathetic, ruthless and compassionate, all at once. He spends the game trapped and humbled but can be almost gleefully condescending at times. He conflates outsmarting an enemy with being right, even as he plays the long-suffering martyr, tortured by countless mistakes. He falls easily into the role of advisor but is quick to note your foolishness. To sneer and declare the problem yours and yet still impose upon you an appraisal of your conduct.

But more than any of that, for most of the game, he's...passive. Dormant. He seems to make no moves, other than as a glorified consultant, despite starting as the main threat.

In Blood of Arlathan, when he finally rears his head again as major a player on the board, it's with a gallant offer of help. As an ally. He is exactly what you need, right when you need it, and you don't even have to ask him to be. And- because you don't have constant access to him, you maybe haven't even considered him an option!

He feels extremely intentionally sparing to me before this in service of a) making you think you're the one with power over him and b) causing you to forget he might contribute at all, so that when he finally does, it seems wholly benevolent. It comes in a moment where your goals are exactly aligned, and indisputably noble.

It's a waiting game. A classic of his, harkening back to stories we've heard time and again about Fen'harel and traps.

As Felassan tells it in the Masked Empire:

Fen'Harel was captured by the hunting goddess, Andruil. He had angered her by hunting the halla without her blessing, and she tied him to a tree and declared that he would have to serve in her bed for a year and a day to pay her back. But as she made camp that night, the dark god Anaris found them, and Anaris swore that he would kill Fen'Harel for crimes against the Forgotten Ones. Andruil and Anaris decided that they would duel for the right to claim Fen'Harel. He called out to Anaris during the fight and told him of a flaw in Andruil's armor just above the hip, and Anaris stabbed Andruil in the side, and she fell. Then Fen'Harel told Anaris that he owed the Dread Wolf for the victory and ought to get his freedom. Anaris was so affronted by Fen'Harel's audacity that he turned and shouted insults at the prisoner, and so he did not see Andruil, injured but alive, rise behind him and attack with her great bow. Anaris fell with a golden arrow in his back, badly injured, and while both gods slumbered to heal their wounds, Fen'Harel chewed through his ropes and escaped.

He goads his enemies into fighting each other for his benefit. Anaris, who had hunted him, succeeds with Fen'Harel's advice, exploiting a weakness he could only see with his aid. In turn, Anaris himself is left exposed. The victory goes to Fen'Harel, who has now dispatched two enemies at once and cleverly won his freedom.

He who was both Creator and Forgotten One. Who could walk amongst both as kin, and who in the end turned his back on them all.

Another tale:

The god Fen'Harel was asked by a village to kill a great beast. He came to the beast at dawn, and saw its strength, and knew it would slay him if he fought it. So instead, he shot an arrow up into the sky. The villagers asked Fen'Harel how he would save them, and he said to them, 'When did I say that I would save you?' And he left, and the great beast came into the village that night and killed the warriors, and the women, and the elders. It came to the children and opened its great maw, but then the arrow that Fen'Harel had loosed fell from the sky into the great beast's mouth, and killed it. The children of the village wept for their parents and elders, but still they made an offering to Fen'Harel of thanks, for he had done what the villagers had asked. He had killed the beast, with his cunning, and a slow arrow that the beast never noticed.

Felassan is everywhere in the Crossroads, in memories, in regrets, in notes that speak to a time you can barely fathom and traces of a friendship that is never once brought up by Solas directly (to my knowledge at least). I think Felassan serves a lot of purposes; he's a window into history, into Solas' mind and ideals, someone who challenges moments of ruthlessness but is loyal, an advisor who keeps Solas grounded even as he pushes him to become something larger than he is, a lingering notion of a loss that you can never really see the full scale of, and so on. And I think, too, that he's written carefully to be a meaningful presence from the rebellion without explicitly spoiling what eventually happens to him, which I wouldn't be surprised if was a legit consideration made for people who might go back and read the Masked Empire after dav lol- in the same way that Trespasser only really spoils the book if you already know what happens.

But for me, every note signed with his name is almost a tongue-in-cheek warning about what's to come. Felassan. A slow arrow, fired apparently mockingly into the sky, only to strike true when it's least expected. A solution executed with neither kindness nor explanation, serving first and foremost the interests of the one who fired it. Felassan's presence in the game ever so slightly encodes a reminder of who you're actually dealing with and what his core tenants are, whether as an ally or an adversary. You only know if you know, but it doesn't seem an accident to me that this reoccurring name of a general who shaped himself in honor of the Dread Wolf's unorthodox cleverness is so key to these traces of Fen'Harel's past, despite, again, never directly being discussed.

Anyways, to Rook. First, I gotta give a shoutout to Bryony Corrigan, whose voice I used for mine- she honestly made the game for me, especially in moments where I felt unsure of it. I love Rook, I love how they're written, and I love how they're performed. While a complete blank slate protagonist can be really fun, I find putting myself as a player in conversation with limitations given by the game really fun and interesting, and often surprising! And I do feel there's still plenty of flexibility.

My perspective on the relationship between Rook and Solas in Veilguard is specific to how I played of course, and I haven't seen other versions of their dynamic at this point to compare so I can't speak to them. But my experience was as such:

I didn't come into the game wanting to intentionally antagonize him. If he rose at me, I rose at him- and those moments of tension were really, really fun. But I tried to accept what he gave me with a fairly open mind. Skepticism, sure, but also the knowledge that ultimately, we both wanted Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain gone, and he knew them better than I did.

It was really gratifying, then, to see our rocky partnership evolve over time into what seemed like a genuine respect. But it didn't really feel straightforward to me either. For example, the conversation before Weisshaupt held a lot of weight for me: listening to him tell that chilling tale about undermining an enemy with persistent laughter and finding that 'Do whatever it takes to remove those who oppose you' was something we came out aligned on was.... There was an element of foreboding to that. Like, I had found myself actively trying to impress him here! And feeling good when it seemed like I had, but uneasy about how I had done it, even when I agreed with what I'd said.

And of course, after that comes Arlathan. Solas' big hero moment. This is the point in the game where our alliance finally felt comfortable to me. The conversation in the fade after was the first time that it really seemed like we were on even ground. And the game- not just Solas- told me here outright that I had earned his respect! After that, I didn't consider betrayal a possibility for a moment. Honestly, I barely even considered him an antagonist at all, because he had become a partner instead! I was expecting something clever down the line, but I wasn't worried about it hurting me. Our disagreements had been set aside, and the goal of his that I had initially opposed had been so thoroughly usurped I had forgotten that he was even pursuing it. And yes, that's perhaps naivety on my part, but I was so distracted by that not at all being the main plot that I forgot that it actually still was. Which is the whole point, right? He waits until your head is turned the other way to strike.

All this to say, my reaction when you kill Ghilan'nain and Solas uses the instability of the Veil to force you into his prison went beyond shock and confusion. It wasn't until well into his villain monologue that I was able to accept that he had betrayed me at all- having been thus far trying desperately to convince myself that the sequence I was seeing was Elgar'nan playing mind games in retaliation, and not actually Solas.

That prison moment is his Slow Arrow. You are Anaris to Elgar'nan's Andruil, the dagger the chink in her armor, and Ghilan'nain's death the golden arrow striking you in the back.

The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap.

And I should say, I was coming at this all from the meta perspective of someone who loves Solas and empathizes with him and has never seen him as irredeemable or evil- and I, the player, who believed that all game and is ultimately satisfied with the resolution I got- felt hoodwinked as fuck in this moment lmao!!

There's a line in the prison that Varric has about it being easier for Solas to play the villain when he knows he's causing harm- so I do think he plays up his sinisterness here on purpose. But it's such a slap in the face coming straight off of "You have earned the respect of the Dread Wolf." A true and profound betrayal, at least for me.

And it doesn't stop there! His trickster maneuvers and half-truths aren't done until the credits roll. I love that when you meet again, he is nothing but apologies. He makes every concession- that Varric was a good man, that every victory in this fight has been yours, that he needs you and not the other way around, that he was wrong and made mistakes and betrayed people who never deserved it. And of course, we know from experience at this point that this won't stop him from doing it again anyways. But he never holds back from placing the blame on himself. Agreeing with you. Telling you you're right, and that Elgar'nan must be stopped. He only ever says things that are true. Things that are aligned with your point of view.

"[The veil] will never come down by my hand." Well, yes. Because it will fall on its own when Elgar'nan is dead. You won't hardly have to do anything at that point, Solas, will you?

It doesn't matter if Rook isn't falling for it, because if they don't accept his partnership, they lose! That's it! It's the same as it was at the start, but with the added sting of knowing it probably won't work out in your favor this time.

I remember before launch John Epler saying that Solas sees himself in Rook, which really echoes throughout the whole game for me. There are some ways you could say Solas seems opposite to Rook- and of course this can wax and wane depending on roleplaying choices, but the central conceit of Rook as Varric's recruit is that they are a specialist in being willing to act. And on the surface at least, that's kind of counter to Solas' Slow Arrow, right? Blunt force versus delayed gratification. But not entirely! Because every backstory we have for Rook revolves around a kind of heroism that is unorthodox enough to have left you ultimately punished for it. Like yeah, yeah, you saved some lives.... The optics were kinda bad though, so maybe you could go on a sabbatical for a while?

Rook is, from the start, an unconventional and unsung hero, admonished by some for ruffling feathers that they shouldn't have in pursuit of a noble goal. Not unlike Fen'Harel.

I find, too, that there's kind of a nesting doll of parallels around Rook and Solas as foils that the whole story hinges on:

We see Solas, his regrets plastered on every wall, each of them tied to Mythal. At every turn he seems to warn her that this is not the right path, but he follows her down it anyways, until he is left with nothing but an overwhelming need to fix what they have broken.

We see Felassan, who still wears Mythal's vallaslin on his face, challenging Solas' judgement and methods, but still standing by him through the rebellion, after the Veil, for however many thousands of years they slept. Ultimately, in the Masked Empire, the thing that makes him falter is his admiration for someone else's pursuit of freedom. His admiration for Briala.

"I suspect you'll hate this, but she reminds me of-"

Solas is Rook. Solas is Briala. Upstarts, flawed defenders, people who are made into leaders because of their willingness to fight for something. Who see injustice and cannot rest.

Solas is Felassan, the devoted general. One who pushes against his orders but cannot deny them. Someone who loves the cause, but more than that is dedicated to the person who champions it. A voice of reason who, in the end, turns away.

Solas is Mythal, a pragmatic leader, responsible for uncountable deaths. Someone who has relied on partners and power structures that have led her down a dark path, partners whose mistakes in their pursuit of power have become her own. Partners who in the end betray her.

Solas is trapped in his regrets because they are not all his. He struggles with having been failed and with how he has failed others, and in his mind the two become conflated. He carries these contradictory roles on his back- perpetrator and victim, betrayer and betrayed- and cannot see how to overcome them. He is ultimately freed by Mythal's absolution because the foremost factor in his crusade is not belief but guilt.

The ends have to justify the means, because there is no other way he can live with himself. And at every step, he is trying to redeem Mythal as much as he is trying to redeem himself.

He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He wanted to give wisdom, not orders. I will always follow where you go.

He left a scar when he burned her off his face.

It was all for her. It was always for her.

Solas' duplicity is unending, but so is his devotion. And there is such an earnestness to a Rook, always betrayed, that sees and empathizes with that and uses it to free him.

* I will say that during the game I was definitely wishing you could show your hand to him a little more and press him about his memories prior to the endgame (and separate from this I have quibbles with the impact of some of those memory reveals- like wrt the delivery just not feeling as weighty as I would like. The payoff is absolutely still there in the end, it just felt to me like they were too nonchalantly getting a ton of info out that had to be established moving forward, despite these being like earthshattering reveals that people have Correctly (!!!!) theorized about for up to 15 years). That being said, in retrospect it would have lessened the impact of the finale to have pressed Solas about, for example, his relationship to Mythal prior to absolutely pulling the rug out from under him with it at the 11th hour. And additionally, it's a structural nightmare because you can uncover the memories at almost any point in the story, and you don't have constant access to Solas to chat with him about them. Which you shouldn't imo, in service to the story being told!! But it's also true that early on I found scenes with Solas super gripping, and scenes with my team often...not. And that was initially disheartening, but developed positively over time on all fronts once the game didn't have to worry about setting things up. So, I did wish for more here at first, but I've revised my opinion now that I can see the whole arc.

[jewelleria]

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 

I am a Jew. 

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 

Then they sent me this: 

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

[misofist]

I did a pretty interesting scene with my girlfriend @trannytheophage last night.

She is *very* susceptible to hypnosis, and she has a trigger that can be used to make her forget anything of your choosing. She's also kinky enough that (in the right setting) she can take almost anything she hates and sexualise the suffering until she enjoys it.

I had something in mind that I knew she'd hate. So in the afternoon while we were getting ready to go to a play party, I gave her a sneak peak. I showed her exactly what I was planning to do. As expected, she hated it, but I was wanting to make sure that she wouldn't hate it enough for it to be a consent issue. Then I made her forget, so it would still be a surprise.

Early on at the play party I ran the scene I'd been planning. Another friend at the party joined in, adding extra parts to the scene that made it way better than I'd originally planned. My girlfriend fell deep into subspace.

When she surfaced, she growled and hissed at me and promised that she'd get me back. And I told her that no she wouldn't, because she wouldn't remember. I also told her she should mind her manners or I might extend her torment.

When the scene ended, I used careful phrasing to edit her memories, so she could remember everything she'd done with the third person in the scene but not anything I'd done, not the part that she'd really hated.

Trouble arrived only a few seconds later. My girlfriend was puzzled at some lingering sensations she had which couldn't be explained by what she remembered. I gave a kinda half-hearted "oh that's strange" and she leapt at me, pinned me to the ground by my neck, and asked me "What did you do? What did you make me forget?"

My other girlfriend opportunistically tickled my feet, and as I squirmed desperately I could not barely catch enough breath to say a single word. Once I was afforded the ability to speak again, I gave in. "I'll tell you I'll tell you! I'll whisper it to you." So she leaned in to hear, and I used her trigger to make her forget that I'd made her forget something.

She blinked a bit and then went "Why do I have you pinned to the floor by your neck..." and after a moment of puzzlement it dawned on her why she was feeling confused. And she started right back in, "What did you do!?"

This second time, after I offered to whisper it to her again, I managed to wriggle out of her grip as I was pretending to reveal it to her. And so as she forgot what she was doing once again, this time she came back to without anything obvious to remind her. I had gotten away with it.

Later in the night, she asked me to take a photo of her ass (which had just been spanked). I took the photo and showed it to her. As I took my phone back, I mentioned how I had a lot of other great photos of her from the night. And she looked confused and said "what do you mean, we haven't done any photos... we haven't played together tonight?" And I ineffectually deflected with "oh yeah of course".

She dropped me to the floor and started kicking me quite viciously. The third person from earlier joined in on the fun, stomping on me with her boots. I playfully protested, and eventually pulled the "I'll whisper it to you" trick again.

The other person said "oh that's a shame, I was hoping she'd realise who else had the information she was looking for" so I turned around and sweetly said "Hey <girlfriend>, <other person> has information about something you've forgotten." and then let the violent interrogation scene play out between the two of them.

The third person ended up being made to spill their info, and as my girlfriend walked away triumphantly, I whispered the trigger in her ear again. She wondered aloud why she'd been topping the other person, and I told her that it's because they'd been wanting to be bullied. She does aftercare for them, and then we all split off to do our own things for the rest of the evening.

And now I have written this, so she can enjoy the knowledge of how I toyed with her mind, and still feel the frustration of being clueless about what happened in the original scene.

I'll tell her what happened from time to time. I'll show her the photos. But it's not a memory I'll allow her to keep. She will only be able to savour it in brief flashes, as and when it suits me.

[jennaflare]

So You Finished Disco Elysium and Don't Know What to Play Next

You may have seen my other games rec post (if not, there are a lot of recs there). But I have since played many more games that, if you love Disco as much as I do, you might also really enjoy! (Many of these are on sale for the Steam Winter Sale until 1/2/24, go check them out! Some are even as little as like 2 USD!)

A House of Many Doors

This one was mentioned very briefly in my last rec post, but I think A House of Many Doors deserves more words dedicated to it. This game is set in The House, a strange dimension of huge rooms that pulls things and people from other worlds into it, trapping them forever. You play as one of the house's denizens, and you are on a mission to escape.

If you enjoyed the concept of The Pale in Disco, I think a lot of aspects of The House will appeal to you as well.

Norco

Norco has been on my wishlist since I made the last post, but I finally got around to buying and playing it a few months ago. Norco is an RPG set in the oil town of Norco, Louisiana, and paints a beautiful and strange picture of the rural-industrial south. It contains heavy Christian themes and absolutely stunning pixel art. One of my favorite games I played this year.

Clickolding

Cickolding is a very short horror game in which you play as a person getting paid to click a clicker while the man above watching. It's weird and highly sexually charged, though no actual sexual content occurs. I can't say too much about this but it is an experience, for sure.

The Pale Beyond

In The Pale Beyond, you play as the first mate aboard The Temperance, which is bound for the Antarctic in search of a missing scientific vessel. Things, as you might expect, do not go according to plan. You must keep your crew alive, relatively healthy, and in good spirits.

This one's also a strong recommendation for fans of The Terror, for obvious reasons. (Side note: if animal death is a trigger for you, I'd recommend playing this with caution, or not at all.)

Inscryption

Inscryption is the game that changed my mind about deckbuilders (I used to really not like them), which opened the door to my current addiction (Balatro. If you haven't bought it, don't. Your friends may never see you again).

Inscryption is a horror deckbuilder roguelike that is by the same creator as The Hex and Pony Island, both of which I also recommend. It's an incredibly fun game, and I recommend not looking into the plot too much because it's way more fun going into it as blind as possible.

Slay the Princess

In Slay the Princess, you are the Hero. You must slay the princess. If you don't the world will end. That's all there is to it. Why would you do anything other than slay her, after all? You don't want the world to end, do you?

Slay the Princess is a time loop game where your choices affect the next loop -- I don't want to say too much on that because it's a fun thing to experience yourself.

80 Days

Inspired by the Jules Verne novel, you play as Passepartout, valet to Phileas Fogg. Your employer has entered a bet to race around the world in 80 days. In this text-based adventure, it is your job to balance his budget and health, and to plan your route.

There are so many ways to make this journey, and enough different events that I'm far from having seen it all despite how many times over I've played it. Highlights for me include: falling in love with a man while we nearly died in the arctic, getting jailed in Russia for nearly a week because I made some poor choices, and abandoning our mission to become a jewel thief.

Other Games You Might Wanna Check Out

Jalopy, Overboard!, Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines, Yes Your Grace, Buckshot Roulette, A Date With Death, Fields of Mistria, Obscura, Tavern Talk, Killer Frequency, Not For Broadcast, The Life and Suffering of Sir Brante, Bastion

[thethief1996]

For the past 100 days, Israel has been waging a genocide campaign in Gaza without any sort of reprieve from western countries. Palestinians are suffering from a human-made famine, surpassing the scale and speed of any other famine enforced in the past 75 years. Healthcare professionals are being cornered into Rafah by constant airstrikes, sniper attacks and bombardments at hospitals, forced to leave patients and medical supplies behind. Unmaned quadcopters opened fire on the maternity and ICU unities of Al Aqsa Martyrs hospital and killed 8 civilians. Yesterday, the hospital ran out of fuel and the babies in incubators might die anytime soon. Only 127 aid trucks are being allowed into Gaza of the 500 allowed before the war, under "normal" blockade conditions. The distribution of food and water is made basically impossible by the destruction of communications and the looming threat of executions against people gathered to receive it. Just today snipers killed 3 people in line to receive food in Gaza City and Israel officials have the gall to say the problem is that humanitarian organizations, whose volunteers are being executed at unprecedent rates, aren't putting in enough effort. The IDF drops leaflets telling desperate refugees to flee and then station tanks on the roads or bombs the safe zones.

Ever since I read South Africa's submission to the ICJ I can't stop thinking about how they label it as the demication of Gaza and its people. On every sphere of the government, there are statements calling for the anihilation of the people of Gaza (pages 59 to 67). The Prime Minister has directly adressed the army telling them to wipe off the amalekites (page 60), and South Africa showed tiktoks of the soldiers repeating his speech word for word before committing massacres. And yet they have the gall to come to the world and say they haven't targeted hospitals, they haven't withheld aid and that the statements are "random assertions." To prove that Netanyahu isn't a blood thirsty pig, they pasted a statement he made ONE DAY before the hearing started, which is frankly ridiculous we're supposed to believe isn't a PR stunt (page 34).

No western outlet streamed the highest stake court hearing in the 21st century, but you can rest assured they streamed Israel's pathetic defense. And Canada, Germany, the UK and the US, countries which have in no way reckoned with their own genocidal pasts, have come forward in defense of Israel like they have any moral high ground to patronize the world about genocide.

Take action, for their sake. Motaz has said "Don't call yourself a free person if you can't make changes. If you can't stop a genocide that is still ongoing". We need to fight in any way we can to stop their massacre.

Keep yourself updated and share Palestinian voices. Muna El-Kurd said every tweet is like a treasure to them, because their voices are repressed on social media and even on this very app. Make it your action item to share something about the Palestinian plight everyday. Here are some resources:

Al Jazeera, Anadolu Agency, Mondoweiss

Boycott Divest Sanction Movement

Palestinian Youth Movement is organizing protests and direct action against weapons factories across the US

Mohammed El-Kurd (twitter / instagram)

Muhammad Shehada (twitter)

Motaz Azaiza (instagram) - reporting directly from Gaza.

Hind Khudary - reporting directly from Gaza. Her husband and daughter moved South to run from the tanks but she stayed behind to record the genocide. The least we can do is not let her calls fall on deaf ears.

You can participate in boycotts wherever you are in the world, through BDS guidelines. Don't be overwhelmed by gigantic boycott lists. BDS explicitly targets only a few brands which have bigger impact. Right now, they are focusing on boycotting the following:

Carrefour, HP, Puma, Sabra, Sodastream, Ahava cosmetics, McDonalds, Disney and Israeli fruits and vegetables

Push for a cultural boycott - pressure your favorite artist to speak out on Palestine and cancel any upcoming performances on occupied territory (Lorde cancelled her gig in Israel because of this. It works.)

If you can, participate in direct action or donate.

Palestine Action works to shut down Israeli weapons factories in the UK and USA, and have successfully shut down one of their firms in London.Some of the activists are going on trial and are calling for mobilizing on court.

Palestinian Youth Movement is organizing direct actions to stop the shipping of wars to Israel. Follow them.

Educate yourself. Read into Palestinian history and the occupation. You can't common sense people out of decades of propaganda. If your arguments crumble when a zionist brings up the "disengagement of Gaza", you have to learn more.

Read Decolonize Palestine. They have 15 minute reads that concisely explain the occupation (and its colonial roots) and debunk popular myths, including pinkwashing.

Read on Palestine. Here's an amazing masterpost.

Verso Book Club is giving out free books on Palestine (I personally downloaded Ten Myths about Israel by Ilan Pappe. If you still believe in the two states solution, this book by an Israeli professor debunks it).

Call your representatives. The Labour Party in the UK had an emergency meeting after several councilors threatened to resign if they didn't condemn Israeli war crimes. Calling to show your complaints works, even more if you live in a country that funds genocide.

FOR PEOPLE IN THE USA: USCPR has developed this toolkit for calls, here's a document that autosends emails to your representatives and here's a toolkit by Ceasefire in Gaza NOW!

FOR PEOPLE IN EUROPE: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace targeting the European Parliament and one specific for almost all countries in Europe, including Germany, Ireland, Poland, Denmark, Sweden, Netherlands, Greece, Norway, Italy, Portugal, Spain, Finland, Austria, Belgium Romania and Ukraine

FOR PEOPLE IN THE UK: Friends of Al-Aqsa UK and Palestine Solidarity UK have made toolkits for calls and emails

FOR PEOPLE IN AUSTRALIA: Here's a toolkit by Stand With Palestine

FOR PEOPLE IN CANADA: Here's a toolkit by Indepent Jewish Voices for Canada

Join a protest. Here's a constantly updating list of protests:

Global calendar

Another global calendar (go to the instragram of the organizers to confirm your protest)

USA calendar

Australia calendar

Feel free to add more.

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 10. austin

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex

WC: 6.6K

A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.

The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.

The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.

The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.

The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.

She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.

"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.

"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"

"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."

"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.

"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."

"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.

"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."

You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.

For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.

"Alone?"

You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.

"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."

"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."

"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.

"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.

This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.

"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.

"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.

"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."

"Right," you said, biting your nail.

"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."

"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.

"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."

"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.

"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.

"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."

You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.

Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.

"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.

The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.

"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.

"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.

"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.

Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.

You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.

"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.

"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.

"You from 'round here?"

"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.

"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.

"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.

"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.

"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.

"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.

"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.

"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.

Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.

"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.

"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.

"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.

Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.

After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.

"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?

"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.

"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.

"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.

"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.

"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.

Okay, so probably not an ex.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."

"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"

"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.

"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.

"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.

You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.

By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.

"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.

"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.

"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.

"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."

"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.

"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.

"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."

"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.

"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.

"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.

"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.

"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."

You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.

"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"

"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.

"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."

"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.

You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.

As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.

"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.

"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.

"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"

You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.

As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.

Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.

You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.

"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm drivin'."

"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.

"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.

"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.

Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.

Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.

"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."

"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."

He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.

"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.

You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.

"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.

"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.

"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.

"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.

You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.

"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.

"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.

"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.

"I know."

You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.

"Thank you, Joel."

"You're welcome, baby."

As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.

You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.

"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."

"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.

"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"

"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.

"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.

"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"

"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"

"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"Happy?"

"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.

The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.

"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."

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