#honesty it could be the other way around i just need the difference in perspective from these two

[blainesebastian]

home is a person

word count: 11,493 ship: Nick Leister x reader rating: NC-17 (for smut, suggestive sexual language, and expletives) summary: London has a house you live in. All of those memories in New York patchworked into a home. London could never feel like that. notes: a while ago, an anon asked me if i took requests. i don't, but ironically, i got inspo from their ask, which was for jealous!nick. so hope you enjoy those moments in here! 🥰 notes2: masterlist is here, gifs are from here!

In all honesty, your move from New York to London hadn’t been pleasant. 

This was the last thing you wanted, but when your mom needed a fresh start after the drama with your father? You couldn’t exactly blame her. You just…didn’t expect her to look for job offers in another state, let alone another country. It wasn’t easy, packing up your entire life, moving to a brand new city, a new house, trying to figure out where everything fit—including yourself. You’ve always believed that things happened for a reason but this? You weren’t too sure. 

Then you met Nick. 

It’s not like you’re trying to center your entire existence around a guy, or anything, but…sometimes he feels like he’s at the center of what makes you feel good. Like he’s become the pinnacle of your orbit, that your friendship with him has really yanked you out of feeling the worst type of way about moving here. You met Lion, Jenna and Nick through Giles, your mother working with his father, one social event slipping into another. At the charity gala you were introduced, you remember being drawn to him, the long lines of his suit fitting him perfectly, the gentle golden hue to some of his curls, the fullness of his mouth, how it seemed to twitch into a smile when he met you. 

You also remember the blonde scowling nearby, practically plastered to his side all night. 

“Events like this are always such a bore,” Anna sighs through her nose, leaning back in her chair. “I mean, can’t we just donate money and move on without all the speeches?” 

You could understand that perspective, maybe. There were a lot of speeches tonight geared towards raising money. But…isn’t that the whole point? To listen to the different voices on why it was so important to do something before it was too late? That’s why there’s a bunch of informational tables as well, all dedicated to something different to help preserve and protect wildlife and oceans. It never bothered you to come to events like this because at least it felt like you were doing something with your money that helped…but you’re also reminded of people like Anna—brash impatience. 

“I mean,” She picks up her wine glass, taking a sip, “Not that our money here will do a lot of good anyways,” She crinkles her nose, “Remind me to choose another charity next time.” She laughs softly with her friend next to her, Nick on the other side with a look of thinning patience. 

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, standing from the table. Anna’s eyes dart to you, setting her glass down. 

“Oh, hope I didn’t offend you.” She says, but her eyes are a glint of something…territorial. Like she wants you to leave the table. She doesn’t look one iota apologetic. 

You give her a tight smile, “No, not at all. Your dress actually reminded me that I wanted to check out the table on the efforts of plastic removal.” You motion to the right and walk off in that direction, though, not before you hear Giles’s snort of amusement and Anna’s scoff of disbelief. 

You linger at the coat check, waiting while someone retrieves your jacket, chewing on your lower lip. You already made a few donations with your mom’s approval at several conservation foundations, so, there’s really no need to return to your table. You’re not sure you’d be able to keep your mouth shut anyways and…you don’t want to start an argument with a so-called ‘prominent’ daughter of the social circles both you and your mother are now traveling in. 

“Headed out?” 

Turning, Nick approaches the other side of the coat check, handing his ticket to someone as well. You chew on your lower lip, nodding, because…that should seem fairly obvious. You expect the conversation to die there, but it doesn’t. He sticks his hands in his pants pockets, rolling back on his heels, 

“Did you know that half the oxygen we breathe comes from ocean plankton?” 

You blink—out of anything you expected to come out of his mouth, it wasn’t that. “What?” 

He smiles a little bit, amused, like throwing you off kilter was exactly what he intended. He motions that the coat attendant has come back with your jacket and you have to tear your gaze off him to take it. 

“Just seems like this event is a big deal to you, so, thought you might know that.” 

You scoff, unsure if he’s here throwing a factoid in your face because you insulted Anna back at the table. You slide your sleeves through your jacket as he gets his, “Yes, I care about ocean conservation, okay? I want to maybe do something with marine biology one day,” You have no idea why you’re telling him that, “So sorry if your girlfriend’s flippant comment got under my skin.” 

You begin to walk towards the exit, but since you didn’t drive a car here, you’re left lingering on the top step and he slides up beside you. He’s pulling a ticket from his pocket for the valet and you’re fishing out your phone to call for a ride. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” He says, turning a bit to look at you. He then takes a backwards step, landing on the stair below the one you’re on. You’re almost eyelevel like this. Almost. Your gaze skitters over him—he’s handsome. Far too handsome. “Can’t date someone who doesn’t care about plastic, or plankton, for that matter.” 

A twitch of your lips at that. Okay so…maybe you judged this, him, all wrong. You got the inkling that Nick might be as uptight and shallow as Anna if he was with her, but now it seems like…he’s not even giving the impression that they’re friends. They’re just in the same space sometimes, that she’s in his space when she can be. 

“Those are some pretty decent requirements.” 

Nick hums softly, motioning over his shoulder. “Did you drive here?” 

You shake your head, lifting your phone a little, “Ordering a car.” 

“I can take you,” He offers, holding his hand out to help you down the carpeted steps in your heels, “Or…we could go for a drink.” At your hesitation, he takes another step down, “I know plenty of other plankton and ocean facts, if you’re curious.” 

A real smile now spreads across your lips before reaching for his hand, “Well how can I deny myself that?” 

—

London has a house you live in. 

When you thought about home, New York always sprung to mind. Not just the city and all the places that you loved visiting, but your loft-like bedroom, the twinkle lights above your windows, succulent plants on the sill, your cat curled up on one of your pillows. You thought of the smell of homemade meatballs that your mom would make, clinging to the space long after they were eaten. Of laughter that stuck to the walls when playing a board game or watching a movie, tears over your first boyfriend, arguments with your father before he left. 

All of those memories patchworked into a home. London could never feel like that. 

—

A few months turn into a handful of years and the seamlessness in which you do things with Nick, Lion and Jenna is something that settles into place in a way you never planned on. Back home in New York, you had maybe one best friend that you did everything with. And what could you claim of that ‘best’ friend now? The relationship completely disintegrated upon moving. But with Nick, Lion and Jenna, it feels like…somehow, you’ve always been an addition to the trio. You’re grateful for that, to find your people that you don’t want to be without. It’s unexpected in the best way. 

Something else you never expected? Jenna’s stamina when it comes to dancing. 

A soft laugh leaves your lips as she does a twirl on the dance floor, her arms coming up over her head. Lion and Nick are nearby, drinking more than dancing, but it’s still fun. The club is a little packed for your taste but the music is good and so are the drinks that are flowing. You lean in close to Jenna, tossing your arms around her shoulders, 

“I’m gonna grab some water!” You’ll get her some too, turning to go towards the bar. 

You push through a small wave of people, reaching a semi-filled space, not as hectic as the dance floor. Letting out a slow breath, you push a few strands of hair out of your face that’s threatening to stick to your neck where you’re slightly flushed from dancing. Leaning against the bar, you wait to get the bartender to notice you. 

When someone slides up beside you, you don’t think much of it. There’s not much room as it is, so you know there’s a lot of accidental encroaching in space, but then you realize he’s not looking to get the bartender’s attention—he’s looking right down at you. He leans far too close to talk into your ear, 

“You’re beautiful, let me buy you a drink.” 

You’ve learned a long time ago that there’s no requirement for you to be nice when someone makes you uncomfortable. You take a step back and shake your head, “No thanks.” 

He doesn’t take the hint, of course, trying again. You’re not sure why guys think they need to push at the word ‘no’. “Come on, what’s one drink going to hurt?” 

Fuck, he’s not going to leave you alone. You’re going to have to leave the bar and come back for the water. Before you can turn around, you sense Nick before you see him. At this point, you know the weight and warmth of his body, how his hands feel on your back or where your hip meets your waist, the scent of his cologne mixed with something that’s purely him. There’s a safeness there, a comfort, a knowing, and you find yourself leaning a bit into it as he touches his chest to your back. 

“Fuck off to the other side of the bar.” Nick says to the hoverer over the music, gently clasping your elbow and encouraging you under his arm, his body creating a bit of a cage to block the guy out. 

The guy eventually disappears, but Nick’s stance doesn’t change. And you…don’t mind that. You turn just a little under his arm, a small smile tugging the corners of your mouth, 

“I was just on my way back to you guys.” 

“Didn’t like how long you were gone.” He replies when he leans down to talk to you. It’s a completely different sensation having him do it, his lips brushing your ear. A shiver courses down your spine, despite how warm your body feels against his own. 

“Oh you were worried?” You tease, raising your eyebrows. 

“Jenna was worried.” He insists but there’s a twitch of a smile to Nick’s lips, his gaze flicking to yours and then to the bartender that asks what you want to order. 

When you bring the water back to your friend, handing it off to her, she’s dancing with Lion. When you take a step back, sipping from your straw, you end up leaning against Nick’s side again. 

Neither of you seem to be bothered by it. 

—

You thought it was going to rain today, but it seems to be holding out alright. Tipping your head back to look at the sky, you sit down on the edge of Nick’s pool and dip your legs in. Jenna and Lion are in the deep end, treading while sipping on drinks and Nick pops up out of the water. He runs both hands through his hair but loose curls still sit on his forehead. He smiles at you, wandering over to stand near your knee. 

“Told you,” He motions towards the sky. 

You purse your lips, adjusting your sunglasses, “I dunno, some of those clouds still look suspicious.” 

He shakes his head but he’s smiling a little, “If it rains, we’ll be in by then. Got to take advantage of the sunny days here.” 

You chew on your lower lip, knowing he’s right but…this, admittedly, isn’t your favorite type of weather. Nor your favorite season. You live for snow and while Nick’s right, sometimes it can be rather gloomy in London, that doesn’t take away from wishing for snowflakes. 

He scoffs softly, his hand moving to touch your leg, his thumb tracing a circle along your ankle. “Thinking about snow, aren’t you?” When you raise your eyebrows, he smiles, “Got that look on your face, getting pretty good at reading you.” 

He is. Nick, however, shields his emotions fairly well. You’ve gotten to know him since you moved here, and you’d say you’re nearly close? But he’s still rather guarded with heavier feelings. Big emotions are obvious, but those minute ones that become visible between heartbeats, they’re harder for you to gauge. Which is how Nick likes it. You’re determined though, one of these days you’ll figure him out. One day you’ll be able to read him like a favorite book. 

“I just want to visit a cabin or something. Ski resort.” There’s hope in your voice, sounding a little wistful. 

“Can you even ski?” At the crinkle of your nose, Nick laughs. “Guess that wouldn’t be the point.” 

You huff, playfully splashing him with a bit of water, “No.” 

“Cabin in the woods sounds like a horror movie,” He volleys back, squeezing your ankle. 

“It is one,” You grin, “But again, not the point. You’d be traveling with a seasoned horror movie professional,” You touch your chest, “I’d keep us safe.” 

Nick shakes his head, turning to look at Jenna and Lion—maybe even to ask them if they’d be interested in something like that, but they’re too busy kissing to be paying attention to either of you. 

When he shifts his attention back, there’s a gentle eyeroll that makes your eyebrows pull together. He’s not…annoyed, exactly? But there’s something there that you can’t quite place. And you wonder if it’s because you’re seeing it for the first time, a microexpression that doesn’t usually slip free from the well-guarded emotions he keeps under lock and key. 

He looks up at you, licking his lips, “What?” 

You curl your hair around your ears, your mouth opening and…should you even say anything? Then, “Nothing, I just think it’s cute that you’re jealous.” 

Nick scoffs, “I don’t get jealous.” 

Now it’s your turn to make a noise, giving him a look of slight disbelief, “Seriously?” You expect him to buckle underneath the scrutiny but he doesn’t, just shrugs his one shoulder. “Never?” 

“No,” He smiles a little, floating on his back in the water. You pay special close attention to his face and not water gliding down the muscles of his chest, “It’s a useless emotion.”

You can’t help but laugh, “So is getting pissed off to the point that you punch someone, and yet…” You grin at him. 

Nick makes an O shape with his lips, letting out a sound to let you know that your comment has struck him. He swims closer, almost to your knees—and then grabs you. 

“Nick!” You screech, but it’s too late, he’s pulled your entire body into the pool. 

You pop back up to the surface, splashing him right in the face. Dick. But he’s laughing and honestly, so are you, shaking your head as you lean back against the pool wall. When Lion and Jenna float over, Nick brings up your cabin in the woods idea and while a plan starts to form of maybe actually doing a small trip, you can’t stop your head from spinning about what he said. About not getting jealous. 

Is he lying? But what would be the point of that? Has he never been with anyone that’s warranted the emotion? 

Or does he really not feel it?

—

You don’t know how you allow yourself to get dragged to these things (or, well, you do but—). You can’t help but wince when another punch is thrown in the ring, snapping the other guy’s head back. Fuck. These bare-knuckle fights are brutal and you’re…not sure which is worse; the fight itself or the cheering around you. You suppose you sort of get it? Treating it like a sport and all that, a spectator to absorb yourself in but…it’s just not your thing. 

The only reason you’re here is—

A short gasp leaves your lips as someone’s body hits the concrete, your own turning automatically towards the right and—Nick takes a step closer to you, his arm sliding around your waist. You mold into his side, practically shielding your face into his shoulder, his hand pressing calming circles into your hip. 

“You’re really going to do this?” You ask him, tipping your head up just a little to meet his eyes. 

That’s why you’re here. To support him because he’s got a fight next but…god, you can’t imagine how much worse that’s going to be? Seeing him get hurt. 

“I’m a much better fighter than either of these guys.” He replies but it’s…it’s not even like he’s trying to sound cocky, it’s just matter-of-fact. 

You run a hand over the side of your face, “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

He smiles a little, the end of the match in front of you announcing a victor. “You don’t have to stay, Jenna’s not a big fan of these either.” 

And while that sounds tempting? You’re already here and, “I want to support you.” 

Nick watches you for a few moments, nodding, his hand moving to tuck your hair around your ear before he moves to head with Lion towards the locker rooms. 

—

Well, staying and offering support is easier said than done. 

You stand on the sidelines with Jenna, one of your arms wrapped around your middle, your fingers pressing into your mouth as Nick warms up. Your gaze lingers over the toned muscles of his body, his trim waist, the delicate lines of his tattoos, the way his boxers peek out from his sweats…it only serves as a distraction for so long. The fight begins and he chances a glance at you for one moment before punches are being thrown. 

Fuck. 

You take a step back out of instinct, landing right on someone’s foot, and he clasps your arm so you don’t buckle. It’s a tall guy, handsome, brown eyes and dark skin, curls but cut close to his head. He gives you a light smile, letting go of your elbow once you’ve centered yourself. 

“Sorry.” You tell him, your gaze finding the fight again, though a bit reluctantly. It…appears? Nick is winning. At least you think so, it’s difficult for you to tell. The next jab hits him right in the ribs and you definitely have to tear your attention away from that one. 

The guy next to you shifts, “Boyfriend?” He asks. 

You blink, realizing he’s asking about Nick. “What? Oh—no. He’s a friend.” 

He hums, “Does your friend usually ask you to watch things that make you uncomfortable?” 

A soft laugh leaves your lips for a few reasons, sliding your attention to this guy for a moment. “Am I really that obvious?” He glances down at you, a soft smile to his own lips, “And also, no. Nick didn’t ask me to be here, I offered because I wanted to try and support him.” 

Try being the word here, you’re not doing too hot. 

You force yourself to look back at the ring and there seems to be pretty even ground, a shuffling between Nick and the other fighter, moving in circles as punches are thrown and landed. Your hand slips to the back of your neck, 

“Have you been here before?” You ask, trying to at least carry on a conversation now that one’s started. 

The guy nods, crossing his arms over his chest, “Yeah, I don’t put any money down, but I like watching the fights. I’ve been boxing for the past few years, so, observing other techniques sometimes sharpens your own.” 

“My friend Jenna,” You motion to her beside you and she turns her head at the sound of her name, giving a small wave, “Her boyfriend owns the gym.” 

He raises his eyebrows, “That’s awesome. I’m Coleson, everyone calls me Cole, though.” 

You smile a little, introducing yourself as well. When Nick uses the force of his body to get the other opponent on the floor, throwing heavy punches, you find yourself turning a little again. A twitch of a smile pulls Cole’s lips, 

“So if you’re not interested in boxing, what do you like?” 

And you’re not sure whether he’s trying to get to know you or distract you but, either way? You’re grateful for it. 

—

As you wait for Nick and Lion to come outside, you lean back against the familiar red McLaren, a small smile tugging the corners of your mouth when you change the unknown number in your phone to say ‘Cole’. Jenna gently nudges you with her elbow, a knowing look on her face. 

“What was going on between you and ‘tall, dark and handsome’?” 

You shrug, chewing on your lower lip, “Think he was just being nice. Practically smashed his foot on accident at the beginning of the fight.” 

“You gonna go out?” 

“Maybe,” A small smile again, a flutter of butterflies in your stomach. Even though you’re pretty sure Cole was just asking you questions to get your mind off what was happening in the ring, you liked talking to him? Maybe going on a date wouldn’t be so terrible? “Probably won’t even see him again after tonight.” 

Her eyes follow a line of sight over your shoulder and you don’t have to turn to know it’s Cole leaving the warehouse, but when you do? His eyes are on you, giving you a soft wave as he makes his way to a motorcycle. 

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” Jenna grins, which only makes heat kiss the back of your neck and your cheeks. But you’re smiling too. 

Turning your attention back towards the entrance, you see Nick and Lion come out, Nick in a pair of black jeans and zip-up hoodie. You grimace just slightly at the bruise forming on his cheek, your fingers itching to reach out and cup his jawline when he’s close enough. Instead, you offer him a soft nod. 

“Celebratory drinks at my place.” Lion grins, grabbing Jenna’s hand and giving her a playful twirl before tugging her towards his car. 

You came with Nick, so you linger, giving in and reaching for his wrist. You run your thumb over his knuckles, a wince pulling at your lips. “Congrats on your win.” 

For someone who came out on top? He seems a little off. Quiet, stoic. But maybe he’s just in pain. He’s got plenty of bruises and small cuts despite winning. You make a mental note to grab an ice pack for him when you get to Lion’s. 

Nick opens his mouth but then hesitates which…you find that’s something he doesn’t often do. He’s not one to hold words underneath his tongue and yet it takes him a moment to say, “I’m surprised you even noticed.” 

You blink, confusion clouding your face. Your eyes scan his face, the way his eyelashes sit on his cheeks as he looks down at your hand around his own, his thumb tracing your knuckles, the darkened gold to his curls because he’s taken a shower, the cupid bow of his lips. And then, a brief glance over your shoulder—where Jenna looked before. 

Where Cole is on his motorcycle. 

Nick confirms it a moment later with, “You seemed a bit preoccupied.” 

Your brain seems to do a double-take. You’re about to argue that you did the best you could while he was fighting—it’s definitely not a secret that being here had you feeling out of your element. But…there’s also something in his tone, in the way his eyes aren’t meeting yours, hyperfocused on your hands joined instead. 

Your mouth opens and then snaps shut. No…because that would mean, “You know, for someone who says they don’t get jealous, your eyes are suddenly the prettiest shade of green.” 

You reach out your other hand to touch his cheek but Nick draws his head back, a scoff leaving his lips even though there’s a twitch of a smile there. He knocks your hand away and that makes you laugh, the giggling seeming to melt whatever ice was holding onto his shoulders. They relax, his movements warm towards you, and he squeezes the hand he’s still holding. 

“No, it’s cute really!” You continue, even when he turns you around to face the passenger side of the car, grabbing the door to open it up for you. “That you wanted my laser focus on you throwing punches, I’ll remember that next time.” 

You expect him to completely ignore you, you expect him to give a wiseass comment and encourage you to get to the car. You do not expect him to lean against your body, his head tilting down to brush his lips against your ear as he speaks, 

“You better.” 

—

Staring down at the card on your desk, you’re unsure of what to do with it. 

You know your mom wanted to move to start over, something disconnected from your dad and all the issues he caused. It’s not a new story—he cheated on your mom, created an entire new family, wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Nothing to do with you. 

And yet, here on your desk, sits a birthday card. 

It’s a month late and you’re not sure whether that’s because he sent it after the fact or he doesn’t know when your birthday is. Both ideas are plausible. 

Either way, the card unleashes a torrent of emotions you thought you’d gotten over. It’s obvious that while your mother wanted to start new, she gave your dad the London address. You’re just…not sure why. You really hope she doesn’t miss him—you both deserve better than that. Than him thinking that he’s needed or something. 

Your fingers dig into your closed palm, wanting to throw the fucking thing away and yet—yet you can’t do it. Which just pisses you off even more. 

“Y/N.” 

Your head snaps towards the doorway of your bedroom, where Nick is lingering, his eyebrows raised at you. He takes a step in but pauses, his eyes falling to your desk before lifting to your face again. He’s supposed to be picking you up to head to a party at Anna’s and you have no idea how long he’s been waiting, or worse, standing there trying to get your attention. 

“You alright? I’ve been calling you.” 

You clear your throat, moving even though your knees feel like jello, “Sorry, I—yeah, I’m fine.” You force a smile on your face that you’re pretty sure Nick can see right through, “Let’s go.” 

Before he can ask another question, you brush past him in the doorway, the scent of his cologne squeezing your ribs against your lungs. You don’t wait to see if he follows. 

—

The party is a lot of fun and while you know it’s not the best coping mechanism? You allow yourself to be tugged down in the weight of dulling your inhibitions. You let the drinks flow a bit more freely, aren’t as concerned with hydrating with water in-between as you usually are, and readily accept shots when Lion or Jenna bring them back over to your group. While Nick is in the midst of it, you can feel his eyes on you every so often, persistent. And you know what it’s about. 

He knows you, knows something is wrong, but doesn’t push either. He just waits—waits for you to offer whatever it is up to him. 

Well, at this rate, he’s going to be waiting a long time.

A laugh slips out of your lips when Jenna wraps her arms around you, twirling to the beat of the music as you all linger in the living room. 

“Think there’s jello shots in the kitchen.” She grins. And while you’re usually not a jello shots kind of girl, the…jiggling sort of freaks you out. Tonight? You’ll have one. 

“Maybe some water would be a better idea,” Nick tosses out, taking a slow sip of the beer in his hand that he’s had for about an hour. 

“Maybe stop trying to kill my buzz.” You volley back, your voice sharp. 

But Nick doesn’t rise to verbal sparring with you, doesn’t take that bait. He just licks his lips, a muscle working in his jaw before having another sip of his beer. You’re not sure whether you’re more relieved or disappointed. Fighting with him won’t solve your problems—he’s not the one you’re really upset with. 

You swallow down a lump in your throat, turning a bit towards Jenna to give her a smile that hurts your cheeks. “Yes to jello shots.” 

If she senses the weird mood passing between you and Nick, she doesn’t say anything, just moves towards the kitchen to grab the shots. You set down your empty glass on a table, straightening out your dress, crinkling your nose at the jello shot when she returns…but take it anyways. It’s absolutely fucking awful, reminding you of some sort of cherry cough syrup but you force it down your throat. 

It instantly makes you nauseous. 

“I’ll be right back.” You turn to head in the direction of the bathroom, not exactly caring if anyone follows you. You just need a moment to yourself…and to make sure you don’t throw up. 

You head right to the sink, splashing some cold water on your face that makes you feel better. You don’t look at yourself in the mirror, unsure you’d like what you saw there. You know this is completely unlike you, to let something like this sway you right into trying to bury your emotions instead of meeting them head-on. It’s just…too much for you to deal with right now. Especially since you thought the problem had been solved with moving. 

You rub the back of your neck, shaking your head. Fucking birthday card. 

When you open the bathroom door, you bump right into— “Cole.” 

He smiles down at you, his eyes a little glassy, probably matching your own. “Hey! I was wondering if you were here. I was gonna text you.” 

You raise your eyebrows, warmth blooming in your chest. He looks really handsome tonight—black jeans, white button down that’s slightly open, sleeves rolled up his forearms. “Yeah? Well, here I am.” 

He licks his lips and nods, his gaze finding your mouth. You’re wearing a berry shade of lipstick tonight—always a crowd pleaser. “Here you are.” He glances past you towards where the stairs are, “You uh, you want to head up to the second floor? Anna’s got a balcony—we could smoke.” 

A few things that sound altogether like a bad idea—stairs, heading upstairs with someone that you barely know even though he seems nice, and smoking. You don’t smoke at all, it’s just not something that’s ever caught your appeal but…sitting on a balcony does sound like something you’d like, the fresh air and everything. 

But…there’s a dip in your stomach, that same nausea from before. It’s not a good idea. You’d rather have your wits about you to hang out with Cole for the first time, not like this. Not heading to the second floor into rooms that are probably a lot more private when you don’t…you don’t know him. You don’t trust him. 

“Uhm,” You shake your head, “No, I think—”

“C’mon,” He grins, taking a step closer but not touching you, “I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” He promises, sticking his hands in his pockets. “These hands will stay in these pockets.” 

You can’t help but laugh, glancing towards the stairs before letting out a sigh—he does look utterly defenceless like that, “Alright.” 

But you don’t even make it up two steps before you feel a firm hand on your elbow. For a moment you think it’s Cole breaking the promise he made but…you’d know that touch anywhere. Your gaze finds Nick’s, on the bottom step, heat in his brown eyes so potent that you’re surprised something hasn’t caught fire. 

He’s pissed—which just causes a flip in your stomach and an affronted yank of your arm. 

“Get off, what are you doing?” 

He’s gentle but he manhandles you down the two steps, pulling you past Cole, “Stopping you from making a choice you’ll regret tomorrow.” 

You scoff, bumping into him when you lose your footing. He has zero clue what you were about to do with Cole. But a small voice whispers in the back of your mind that…yes, you were headed somewhere quieter, more private, that while Cole was going to keep his hands in his pockets, it doesn’t mean he could have changed his mind. Doesn’t mean something wouldn’t have happened. Your inhibitions are low and you’re feeling just a bit reckless tonight. 

A little embarrassed and a lot indignant, your fingers dig into the palms of your hands, creating fists, “I don’t need your help.” 

Cole glances between you and him, his hands slipping from his pockets. “Dude, I think she’s good.” 

Nick’s gaze is frigid, ice that’s capable of cutting right through someone, “She’s drunk,” He snaps, his one hand holding onto you while the other shoves Cole in his shoulder, hard. There’s a slight height difference given the steps but Nick’s got a boxer’s stance—balanced, “Fuck off or I’m going to lay your ass out.” He warns but you’re not about to give him the opportunity to do that. 

You quickly yank Nick by his arm in the direction of the front door and once he realizes that’s the direction you’re going, he shifts, his hand hovering along your lower back to guide you towards his car. 

You squirm, picking up on unspoken words, “No, if you want to leave, then leave. I’m not ready yet.” 

“Think you’ve had enough.” Nick mutters, practically through clenched teeth. 

“You don’t get to tell me that,” You turn so fast to shove him that you nearly twist your ankle on the gravel, the only thing keeping you off the ground is Nick’s arm now around your waist—which just pisses you off more. “I can handle myself, I’m fine.” 

Now he scoffs, stopping short, his arm slips from your waist but his fingers graze your forearm, “No,” He replies, shaking his head, “You’re not. You haven’t been fine all night.” 

You swallow over a lump in your throat at the scrutiny, the fact that he sees right through you. You draw in a deep breath, trying to center yourself. You’re not even upset at the whole Cole thing, not really…because despite that you thought you were making an okay choice, anything could have happened. Nick did do you a favor—not that you’re going to admit that now. 

No, you’re not fine. You feel your chest beginning to cave in over this—over him standing in front of you, picking apart your emotions like it’s the easiest thing he’s ever done. So bold of him, given that he never lets you in. Never lets you see how he feels. Him wanting to be there for you offers comfort just as much as it enrages you. 

You shake your head; you’re not going to get into this. You make a shift to walk past him, back into the party. If you’re not going to head upstairs with Cole, you can at least continue your night with Lion and Jenna. 

But Nick blocks your path. 

“Move.” 

“No,” He says, voice calm, “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” 

“I don’t want to talk to you about it.” You snap, trying to go past him again but he’s quick, repositioning his weight so that you end up bumping right into him. “Get out of my way.” 

“Oh so you’d rather play pretend?” Nick asks, his words cutting you more than you thought they would. “Like that’ll fix anything?” 

“Fuck you.” Though there’s no fire behind your voice. His commentary has landed far too sharply, leaving debris in their wake. Fuck him. Like he’s suddenly the poster child for handling his emotions the way he should? 

You don’t even realize your eyes have filled with tears until a sharp breath leaves your lips.  

Nick’s gaze softens and you have to look away as your lip wobbles, a tear slipping down your cheek. He lets out a slow breath out of his nose, reaching up to thumb it away. You push his wrist but he doesn’t let you pull too far away. 

“C’mon,” He whispers, “C’mere.” And wraps an arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his chest. 

The bridge of your nose stings as you squeeze your eyes shut, your face resting against his shoulder as his arms wrap around your frame, hand tangling in your hair. You’re unaware that you’re holding onto him so tightly until he gently pries your hands off just to get you into his car. 

—

Seated on top of the hood of Nick’s McLaren, in his leather jacket, you wait for him in a diner parking lot. He comes out of the front door with two milkshakes and a brown bag of food. Despite feeling a little dizzy and nauseous, you know better than anyone that grease will help you feel grounded. He sets the bag down, handing you a milkshake, 

“They were out of strawberry, that within itself feels criminal.” A small smile tugs the corners of your mouth as you take a sip. “Figured chocolate is a good second bet.” 

You hum, licking your lips as he pushes himself up onto the hood next to you, a few burgers and fries spread out between his leg and yours. Reaching for two fries, you dip them into ketchup after Nick squirts some onto an open burger wrapper. You glance over at him, the lights from street lamps create a warm glow against his handsome face. It’s something that feels…utterly comforting in a way you can’t explain. 

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, throat sore from holding back tears, even after crying a bit against his chest. 

Nick looks over at you, shaking his head as he picks up some fries too, “There’s nothing to apologize for.” 

You chew the inside of your cheek, “I dunno.” You were…a lot tonight. “I almost hit you when you brought me outside.” 

A flicker of a smile pulls at his lips, “I could have taken it.” 

You think that’s true—if you would have done something like slap him, you think Nick just would have rolled with it. Still would have said the same things. Still would have held you. Still would have ended up right here, on his car, with milkshakes and food. 

When a few french fries and your milkshake doesn’t seem to make you sick, you reach for your burger, having a bite. It’s quiet between you two, just the sound of cars and traffic, the night spilling over your bodies. You draw in a soft breath, using a napkin on your lips, wiping away most of your lipstick. 

“My dad sent me a birthday card.” 

You put your burger down, not automatically speaking for a few moments. You appreciate that Nick allows that sentence to sit in the silence. 

“I’m angry my mom gave him our new address, that…he sent a card in the first place.” You swallow, “That it’s late or whatever stupid reason I ended up getting it today and not a few months ago.” 

Your gaze wanders over to him and he’s watching you, listening. You bite down on the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood, so you don’t cry. Admitting this outloud feels like some sort of shameful secret even though you know Nick would never look at you like that, like you have any reason to feel embarrassed. 

“I’m angry that I miss him,” You confess, “That I thought I was done feeling that way.” 

Nick reaches over to place his hand on top of yours, squeezing briefly, “Two things can be true at the same time,” He offers gently, “You know you can hate him and still miss him.” 

You let out a slow breath, sniffling as one more tear escapes. You wipe your cheek and even though your chest is still heavy, you feel better. You’re not sure why you do it, but you lean over and press a kiss to his cheekbone. It’s soft, far too quick, but hopefully enough to convey that you’re grateful for him. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, but other than that, he doesn’t acknowledge it. 

After you eat a little more of your burger, you pick at the fries, resting your head on his shoulder. He shifts a little closer, can feel his lips brush your temple, picking up his milkshake to have another sip. 

“I think the fries taste better with the chocolate shake,” You say after a moment, “Even though we usually get strawberry.” 

You can hear the smile in Nick’s voice when he replies, “I know. I was thinking the same thing.” 

—

But maybe, it’s not about London at all. Maybe you realized that home was never meant to be just a place. 

—

Cole texts you a few nights later apologizing for the party. He admits that he was a little drunk but that he had no intentions of doing anything other than just talking to you on the balcony, or smoking a little, if you wanted to. And you believe him. That night’s a little fuzzy to you for a few reasons but…you do think, overall, Cole’s a good guy. 

Which is why when he asks you out, you say yes. 

—

The four of you tend to have dinner together a lot. Whether it’s ordering in food or making something, time is spent talking around a table and then usually having a late-night swim. Tonight’s no different, making tacos is on the agenda. Lion and Jenna are running late because Jenna wanted to pick up ice cream (amazing of her, to be honest), so that leaves you and Nick in his kitchen messing around with pans of different meat on the stove. Chicken, chorizo, shredded beef, and managing seasonings for this taco night. 

“Mind your business, I got this,” You insist, pushing Nick with your hip towards where he was making homemade guac. All of a sudden he’s super concerned about you adding spices to the meat, like you don’t know what you’re doing. 

“Yeah, the last time I let you help manage what was cooking the carbonara was so spicy I nearly threw it out.” 

You scowl at him, “It was not.” 

“My tongue still hasn’t recovered.” 

“And yet you’re still talking just fine—” A squeak leaves your lips as he attempts to reach for the cayenne in your hand. You lift it above your head which…does nothing because he’s taller than you. 

So you twist a bit, a laugh skittering from your lips as he grabs onto your hip, “C’mon, just a little! We need a little spice in our lives.” 

“That sounds like a threat when you say it.” 

You slip out of his grasp and round the counter, sprinkling it on the chicken with a triumphant grin. Playfully putting your fingers to your mouth, you pull them away with a muah! sound. 

Then, pursing your lips, you pick up the red pepper flakes and pretend (maybe) that you’re going to add them to the chorizo and Nick moves, quicker this time, grabbing the container. Though you realize attempting to take the pepper flakes off of you is pretty much just his fingers wrapping around your own. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

You pout, “Yes, chef.” 

Nick smirks as he looks down at you and you realize very quickly that the front of his body has mapped out against your own, slightly pressing you into the counter. The moment the smile fades just a touch from your lips is the same moment he recognizes it too, going still. But he doesn’t move. 

There’s something that you want to say but it’s stuck in your throat, words you don’t recognize, your eyes instead drinking him in while he’s this close. The gentle gold touching the front of his curls, the layers of brown in his eyes, a shade lighter given the natural sunlight pouring into the kitchen, the warmth of his breath on your face, the beauty marks on his one cheekbone. 

Your heart pounds against your ribcage and you must say his name because he swallows, his other hand moving, cupping your cheek. His thumb brushes along the bone there, drawing down, until it plucks at your lower lip. 

You don’t even realize you’ve kissed the pad of his thumb until it’s too late—a muscle feathers in Nick’s jaw, his restraint seeming to snap as he leans down, his lips touching yours—

And then a loud bang as something drops in the hallway, the space between you two suddenly cold and wide. You draw in a sharp breath, swallowing sour butterflies as your friend’s voices fill the space. 

“Lion!” 

“The ice cream is fine,” He replies, “Slipped out of my hands, Jen.” 

They both come around the corner, moving about the space as your brain spins like it’s on an overactive rinse cycle. You don’t even feel like putting the red pepper flakes in the chorizo anymore, instead, moving to stir all the meat on the stove and turning the fire off. 

“Everything smells amazing.” Jenna grins, setting her hands on the counter. 

“Yeah, we can eat now that you guys are here.” Nick clears his throat, throwing scraps of avocado away from when he was making guac. 

Lion puts the ice cream in the freezer, reaching for a fingerful of cheese from a small bowl to pop into his mouth as you focus on filling a taco shell with chorizo. Something to just…keep your hands busy. You’re not even sure what toppings you add at this point, just anything so that you don’t have to look up at Nick. Your cheeks and the back of your neck feel hot and you hope you’re not as flushed as you feel. 

“Babe,” Jenna says, getting your attention. You blink, realizing you’ve missed something. 

“Sorry, food focused.” You lie through your teeth, giving her a small smile. 

Her eyebrows draw together briefly like she doesn’t altogether believe you, but she repeats, “I said, I worked out those dates for the cabin. We can go this weekend.” 

Oh that’s right. How did you fucking forget? One conversation about wanting to grab some sort of cabin in the woods turned into renting an airbnb in the countryside, not too far away from where Nick’s mother lives actually. It wasn’t exactly the snowy escape you were picturing but it was close to a lake and cold enough in the wooded area to do some sort of bonfire outside. The fact that it was put together and decided on was good enough for you, it’s different from the usual set of things that you guys do together. 

“Right,” You clear your throat, “I actually…I have a date on Friday? But it’s early. It should wrap up right before I drive out to meet you guys.” 

You can feel more than see Nick go motionless across the room. 

Jenna raises her eyebrows with a grin, “No shit—is it with Cole?” 

You swallow, your eyes flickering across the counter towards Nick. It’s brief but you see it—the straightening of his shoulders, a muscle working in his jaw when he grits his teeth, a slow breath out of his nose when he leans against the counter. It’s gone almost as soon as it appears, replaced with a neutral expression. A lie. 

“Yes,” You tell Jenna, and then she asks for details, pushing aside the airbnb weekend plans for right now. 

Nick doesn’t meet your gaze for the rest of the night. 

—

You and Nick don’t talk about what nearly happened in his kitchen which is…fine. Because nothing happened. There’s no reason to talk about nothing, is there? It was just a moment, a blip in time, not quite a mistake but the unsure, quiet promise of what if? And yet neither of you bring it up. That has to be a sign too, right? 

So you keep pressing forward, plan for your date with Cole, pack for a long weekend cabin trip. Which is what you’re trying to do right now. 

Nick lounges on a cushy chair in your walk-in closet, scrolling through his phone as you toss another sweater towards an open suitcase on the floor. He glances down at your growing pile, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. 

“You do realize we’re going for three nights, not for a month.” 

You crinkle your nose, your hands slipping to your hips as you regard him, “Uhm, who has the extensive knowledge of horror movies that happen in the woods? It’s not you.” 

A grin spreads over his handsome face and he puts his phone down, leaning up a little to rest his elbows on his knees. “And that explains why you need…” He tilts his head, “Four sweaters?” 

“I’m going for variety, options—you never know what you might need.” You state, like it’s obvious. You then sit on the floor in front of your suitcase, tossing things out of it so you can neatly fold everything in…oh right, you need shoes too. “This is why if there’s an axe murderer, I’ll be one of the only ones to survive.” 

Nick reaches for a lacy bralette sticking out from under one of the sweaters, holding it between two fingers, “Oh why, because you’ll have this?” 

You scoff out a laugh, snatching it from his hand, “Shut up.” 

Grabbing a pair of lounge slippers and two pairs of sneakers, you place them in the bottom of your suitcase, starting to fold sweaters. Your phone vibrates and when you take it out of your pocket, a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips when you see Cole’s name. Nick shifts in his seat in front of you and when you follow the movement, your eyes fall to his. 

He motions to your phone with his chin, “Cole?” 

You let out a slow breath before nodding. Unsurprisingly, this topic feels like a series of landmines. You want to regret what almost happened in the kitchen because it spun you through such a loop. Though, at the same time? You again wonder why it should matter—why should nothing happening make you feel like your insides are tied into knots? 

You almost believe that...until you get a good look at Nick's face. 

While it might seem impassive, you know him. There's a taut line of his spine, a gentle crinkle between his eyebrows, his jaw clenching like he’s grinding his molars together, like he wants to say something but doesn't know how. Isn't sure of the words. 

You draw in a breath, “You don’t like him?” 

You try to convince yourself that Nick’s opinion is as important as Jenna’s would be, or Lion’s. That he cares about you and therefore has your best interests in mind. 

But really, you know that it’s more than that. His opinion matters the most, even though you’re not sure why. 

(Yes, you do.) 

Nick leans back, “Kinda rubbed me the wrong way.” 

Right. That whole night is kind of foggy for you, which you suppose is Nick’s point. The whole ‘going upstairs with unclear intentions’ thing. Not entirely Cole’s fault, but…you’re not about to jump in and give an explanation either. You’re not sure if it’d matter—he’s not going to budge on it. It’s in the set of his shoulders, the chill in his unwavering gaze. 

You nod a little, looking down at your suitcase like it’s holding something far more interesting than this conversation. Then, a twitch of your lips, a familiar comment sitting on your tongue as you look up at Nick, 

“Are you sure you just don’t like him because you’re jealous?” Your voice is warm and teasing, yet it meets a wall of ice. 

Nick holds your gaze for a long moment, his fingers playing with the silver chain-link bracelet on his one wrist, “I’m not.” 

You wait for that moment for the air to shift, for a teasing tilt to come to his lips, for him to make a joke about you bringing this up again. That moment doesn’t come. 

He clears his throat, looking down at his hands, “I just…I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

That…is not what you expect him to say, and while you’d usually appreciate a comment being made like that, it just…slips under your skin in the worst way, like little pin-pricks in your veins. You straighten your back a bit, reaching for a sweater to fold, 

“I can take care of myself.” 

The soft smile you were after flickers across his lips, just barely, “I know.” He picks up a sweater as well, folding it too, “Doesn’t mean you should have to.” 

There’s something in the way that he says that, it digs between your ribs, right into the cage. Like he’s trying to pluck butterflies out and set them free. All at once, this feels far too complicated—not talking about what happened in his kitchen, about Cole, about your date, about what you deserve, about Nick sitting here in your closet as you fold clothes into your suitcase like it’s the easiest thing you two have ever done. 

You shake your head, “I don’t want you to worry about me.” You stand with the suitcase, carrying it into the other room to set on your bed. There are some other things you can pack. Toiletries, or something. You just need to move around. You slip into your bathroom and just like you knew he would, he follows, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. 

“Someone ought to.” 

Swallowing over an emotion in your throat, you point out, “Not you.” 

Nick’s quiet for a moment, reaching out to touch your wrist. Only when you stop moving does he lift his hand to brush his thumb over your jawline. “Why not?” 

You’re not sure what you’re supposed to say, nothing feels like it fits. You tilt your chin into his touch, lips brushing over his skin. You hate how you wonder what it’d be like to kiss him. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket again, making you take a step back from him. The energy fizzles between you two, like an atom being ripped in half, something so brash and sudden that it makes you draw a deep breath into your lungs. 

You glance up at him, “You know why.” 

Walking past him, you try not to think about that if he’d just admit that something was there, that maybe, he was in fact jealous—you probably wouldn’t be going out on this date with Cole at all. 

—

Admittedly, you’re still trying to figure it out, how jealousy can be considered a ‘useless’ emotion. That’s what Nick had called it right? Useless? And yet, you feel like it’s colored everything in your relationship thus far, whether he realizes it or not. Whether he wants to admit it or not. 

You don’t mean for it to happen, but when you’re with Cole, your mind wanders. You think about if the roles were reversed, if Nick was the one on a date night now, if he was out with Anna…would you just sit idly by? Would you not tell him how you felt? 

You’re not about to justify anything that your father has done, but didn’t he just walk around bottling his emotions? Keeping them under lock and key, festering them like an open wound until it turned into something ugly, unsalvageable? You don’t want that. 

You and Nick are complicated, messy, and he may have trouble sharing how he feels but you know what? So do you. 

“You’re distracted tonight,” Cole comments, having a sip of his drink. 

You blink, your thoughts shuffling back to him, and you at least have the decency to look a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I’m—”

“Thoughts elsewhere?” He asks, a small smile, far more polite than you deserve. “On him? Nick?” 

You swallow, waiting for the moment where he gets upset, where he gets angry—you wouldn’t blame him, you’ve obviously wasted his time. But he doesn’t look at you like that, just takes some cash out from his back pocket to pay for both of your drinks. 

“Glad to see it’s that obvious.” A soft, humorous laugh leaves your lips. 

Cole shrugs, “I could kind of sense something when I met you, just wasn’t sure if it was serious or not.” The unspoken end of that sentence is, it’s obviously serious. 

And yet, “It’s complicated.” 

He doesn’t like that answer, crinkles his nose a little as a scoff slips out, “So uncomplicate it. You waiting for something specific?” 

Another laugh rumbles in your chest but it doesn’t make any sound, because…yeah. For some reason, you’re waiting for him to admit something he shouldn’t have to, for him to acknowledge that something is there, crackling between the two of you. 

“Haven’t you seen enough?” Cole asks quietly and you hold his gaze for a long moment—

thinking about Nick. 

Thinking about the way he smiles at you, the way he holds your hand, the way his arms wrap around you to pull you close, the soft laugh he does which is mostly just air leaving his nose, the soothing timber of his voice. The way he bends over backwards to make you feel better, to hear you, to see who you really are, even the uglier parts, and not looking away. The way he makes you laugh, especially when you’re sad, the way he knows exactly what to order for you at the diner, even when they’re out of strawberry milkshakes. 

And Cole—Cole’s right. 

Haven’t you seen enough? 

—

Maybe home was never meant to be a place. Maybe home is a person. 

—

You get to the cabin a little later than you wanted. 

The place you guys rented is tucked into trees, near water, and you remember thinking that Nick’s sister would probably love to explore a place like this. It’s a large, contemporary space, dark green paneling, a large porch with plenty of cushy seats and a bench swing. While you teased that the cabins in all those movies you’ve watched don’t have things like WiFi or televisions, you’re glad that this comes with amenities. You’re not exactly a ‘rough it in the wilderness’ type of girl, even though the aesthetic is admirable. 

Cole’s car slides over gravel, pulling up next to Nick’s McLaren. You get out, giving him a warm thanks before grabbing your bag from the backseat, waving as Cole backs up out of the driveway and heads on his way. 

You breathe in deeply, the scent of trees and earth greeting you, bugs trilling and adding to the ambiance even though the weather isn’t warm. You pull your sweater a little tighter around you, turning to walk towards the stairs—

“Take it the date went well.” 

You almost jump out of your skin, your hand going to your chest as Nick stands from the bench swing on the porch in a pair of black sweats, and a large oversized knit-sweater. Jesus. The sight is striking, which is the last thing you need, given how your heart is hammering at his surprise welcome. 

“Jesus Nick, haven’t I told you enough about these movies not to sneak up on people like that?” 

But then you realize what he’s said, about Cole dropping you off, the slight dip in his voice. There’s a wall there, wrapped around himself, like he could care less about how your night went. Except, that tells you everything you need to know. 

That he cares far too much. 

You walk up the stairs to the porch, setting your bag down on one of the chairs. He turns a little, facing you, leaning back against the banister, eyes brushing over your form in a way that shouldn’t feel so intimate. 

“My car wouldn’t start,” You reply, “Cole offered to drive me, so you can stop sucking on that lemon at any point.” 

“I’m not—”

An amused noise leaves your lips, “That scowl is practically etched into your face. Hasn’t anyone ever told you you’ll get wrinkles like that?” You touch his cheek, brushing your thumb along the bone there. Jealous, he’s jealous. You don’t need him to confirm anything this time. 

You expect him to roll his eyes, huff off your accusations, maybe even gently push you away. But he doesn’t. He just holds your gaze—and doesn’t deny it. It solidifies in his pretty brown eyes as he looks down at you, his silence is answer enough. He turns his head just a little, his lips pressing against the end of your hand, near your wrist. 

Your heart ricochets right into your throat, encouraging you to keep talking. 

“Do you know why my date didn’t go well tonight?” You ask quietly and there’s a flash of something in Nick’s gaze—protectiveness, you think. Like he expects you to tell him that Cole did something awful. You suppose, given the last interaction Cole and Nick had, you shouldn’t be surprised. 

But you don’t want him to think that. Cole actually helped you work through emotions that you didn’t know how to say. 

You press your thumb against his lower lip, “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

The words barely leave your mouth before Nick pulls your hand away and kisses you.

Something unlocks in you, a shuddered sigh that feels like finally and that seems to be all Nick needs to encourage you forward, against him, picking you up in a fluid motion to carry you inside. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist, holding onto him and savoring the groan that leaves his throat when your tongue teases the seam of his lips, meeting his own. 

You have no idea where Jenna and Lion are, and honestly? It’s a fleeting thought as he takes you into a sitting space, depositing you on one of the couches. You don’t let him get very far, not wanting him to pull away, like if he…backs up enough, he might realize what you’re both doing. He might stop. He might have time to regret this. 

You’re not sure you’d ever recover if that were the case. 

His hands travel to your hips, squeezing to get your attention, and when your eyes meet his, he nips at your lower lip, “Do you want me to stop?” 

God, that’s the last thing you want. You appreciate the sweet concern, but you give an insistent shake of your head that makes his lips twitch into a smile. His hand slides between your bodies, thumbing at the button of your jeans. Again, a hesitance, and when give a soft yes against his lips, he undoes them and slides them down. 

The cool air kisses your heated skin and you don’t even care that he’s fully clothed and you’re missing some of yours, all that you care about is how Nick sinks to his knees, pressing yours open to accommodate his body. He plants a kiss to the inside of your thigh, not close enough to wear you want him. His hand slips up, his thumb brushing over the center of you—

“You’re practically soaked through.” His voice rumbles, eyes alight with something possessive. You almost laugh at all the claims about not being jealous. Almost. The giddiness is somewhat swallowed by how turned on you are. 

You follow that train of thought easily, “All for you,” Your voice comes out in a whisper, breathing slightly heavier, “Just you.” 

Fuck. Your hips roll just a little, your hand threading through the front of his curls, resisting the urge to tug him closer. 

Nick’s fingers curl around your underwear, tugging them down and out of his way, his body warm and solid when he settles between your legs again. The anticipation of his lips on your skin makes you cry out when it finally happens, his tongue circling around your clit before traveling down the center of you. His one hand places your leg on top of his shoulder, while the other travels up your body, cupping your cheek, almost covering your mouth. 

You tip your chin, encouraging that, because you’re not sure you’re going to be able to keep your sounds to yourself. 

Nick works you open with his tongue, eventually using his fingers while he pays close attention to your clit. He reads you like an open book, words printed directly onto your skin, knows what you need and when you need it, a build-up of pressure that makes your body tremble until you’re chasing after that release. When his tongue flicks quickly over that bundle of nerves, fingers curling up—you cum, hard, his name on your lips. The sounds are muffled by his hand, which is quickly replaced with his mouth as he kisses you. 

You feel slightly dizzy when he pulls his hand back, a series of pecks from his lips along your jawline, his body resting against your own. Your eyes slip closed as you come down from your high, heartbeat in your ears, only tipping your chin down to look at him when you feel like you can breathe normally again. 

Nick smiles a little, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. 

“So just to be clear,” You whisper after a moment, “This is you not jealous?” 

He playfully pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger before he draws you into another kiss. 

—

The patio area behind the house is spacious, filled with an in-ground fire pit and cushioned seats. You sit on the center seat of the couch, leaning back against the oversized pillow, a pair of sweats and a hoodie on. Tugging the sleeves over your hands, you breathe in the scent of Nick’s lingering cologne, your eyes slipping closed as the high flames kiss your face. 

A yawn slips out of your lips when you stretch your legs out, your gaze falling to Jenna who’s curled up in a chair across from you, a light smile tugging her mouth. 

“So,” She says after a moment, her voice almost lost to the crackling fire. It sends orange flecks that remind you of fireflies into the sky. “No more Cole?” 

You smile a little, can’t help it. 

It’s been a day and a half at the cabin, you and Nick nearly inseparable. So it’s…obvious that something has happened between the two of you. You’re a little addicted to kissing him, at the feeling of his hands on your body, at the way he smiles into your skin when he pulls you close. And while the physical changes are nice? It’s not just that. It’s the way you’ve always been with one another, that intimacy and closeness in the way you can share anything, talk about everything. 

Jenna lets out a soft laugh, “Yeah, I didn’t think he was going to stand a chance.” 

You scoff out a laugh too, “Bullshit.” 

“I was trying to be supportive!” 

Cole will definitely be someone nice to date for someone else, just…not for you. 

You smile, glancing up as the backdoor springs open, Lion and Nick coming out with hot coffees and a few extra blankets. Your stomach does a tell-tale swoop, a small smile tugging the corners of your mouth as he wanders over where you’re seated. He passes a coffee into your hands, fingers brushing, pulling himself onto the couch to sit in the corner. 

He wastes no time drawing you close and you fold easily into his chest, careful not to jostle the coffee, taking a small sip.  As you lean into his chest, Nick flutters the blanket over you both, his hand cupping your arm. He rubs back and forth to create friction, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth as your gaze meets his. He presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose, 

“Good?” He asks softly, though you’re not sure if he’s asking about the coffee or just…everything. How comfortable you are on the couch, if you’re warm enough, if you’re enjoying the time spent at the cabin. If you’re happy. 

You smile, tipping your chin up to kiss the corner of his mouth, covering all the above. “Good.”

—

Home is a person. 

[kalolasfantasyworld]

My recent Zobra arts got very popular on twitter and I received many questions about them so I decided to make a thread explaining the appeal this ship has for me.

Since I already wrote it, I want to share it here as well.

Zora x Nebra - ship appeal

A thread about why I am personally a big fan of Zora x Nebra and how it's more than just a silly crack ship

@f-oighear with who I'm co writing a Zobra fanfiction helped with this

Let's start with the basics

Zora - a peasant who hates royalty

Nebra - a royal who hates peasant

This ship would go against class barriers, but even more as these two would have to overcome their own prejudice which they've had since they were little.

They have (kind of) a canon interaction!

During the elf attack Zora saved Solid and Nebra's lives. It's a point where both siblings were humbled and I'd say a point where their redemption can slowly start.

Enemies to lovers

I personally love this trope and Zobra have great potential for it. I don't think I need to expand here.

Their magic

Both of them have "vaporous" kind of magic and rely on tricks to overcome their opponent. It's a game of thought and preparation.

Ash and mist are also more subtle versions of primal elements (fire and water).

They could be really compatible if they worked together.

Aesthetic

Black & white, that's a classic

Edgy & princess

You can't say they don't look good

And now probably the most important (and long) part of the thread their characters and later surprisingly many similarities

Zora wouldn't be afraid to call Nebra out and she NEEDS it. Nebra doesn't see people as her equals, she's used to being looked up to which Zora wouldn't do.

He would do it right, point out her flaws, harshly. Nebra would hear how she really is.

Hopefully reflect

It would also annoy her and a chain of (sometimes hilarious) interactions would start.

They're both very smart so their comebacks would be intelligent and snarky. None of them would hold back and I think at some point they would start enjoying the game of trying to one up the other.

"The smirk"

Zora snickers, Nebra giggles. They can both be very mean.

See if you put them as enemies it's fun, but imagine having them both against one person. I'd feel sorry for them. (we have a scene like that in our fic and it's perfect)

Prejudice

Both of them are greatly prejudiced against the other’s class. And isn't it BC's thing to break those class differences?

It would require work, effort and time but just like other Royal/Peasant ships they could bring an example of the world Asta dreams of.

Now to issues

A dead parent who they used to idolise and passing of that parent messed them up in... many ways

We use that similarity to have them bond on a deeper level

After Zara's death Zora goes on a vendetta

While Nebra feels inadequate and takes it out on innocent Noelle

Neither of them copes well and it just pushes them to extremes.

Zora luckily gets better with his found family (the Bulls we love them), while Nebra... I won't defend her, it's a long way to go even after the last manga chapters.

However these two could help each other grow.

Noelle is Nebra's sister and Zora's squadmate

This topic would need to be brought up at some point. Zora cares about his squadmates.

Nebra was awful, toxic and simply terrible. I think that talking about it with someone who won't beat around the bush could help her redemption.

I think Nebra could start seeking out that honesty at some point.

Zora had crossed out all of the nobility, but seeing himself an actual example of someone as rotten (yes I said it) as Nebra changing could help him too.

It's about seeing a different perspective.

"They wouldn't interact if not made to"

True, thus in fics @f-oighear and I put them in situations where they have to interact such as a mission together, or in our Formula 1 AU they're both drivers on the grid, or we send them to the same resort for summer break.

Things we like to do in fics

- they call each other names, starting of offensive (Princess and peasant are classics)

- making them work together -> they hate it -> miraculously it works out

- hair and clothes comments

- personal development

Taking into account all of the above, they would need specific circumstances to work out, thus I understand why they don't have to be everyone's cup of tea (I need at least a 100k slowburn), but I hope I brought to you closer this ship and why I personally find it appealing.

[thedenofravenpuff]

Ballora and Eclipse's Relationship - A Ramble

I love the growing friendship between Ballora and Eclipse V4 on EAPS.

Which to me is a funny observation if you go deep lore on it, like an obsessive fan (is me, I'm an obsessive fan)

Wall of text under the cut

If you look deep cut into FNAF, I always liked to consider the Daycare Attendant kind of related to creations like The Puppet and Ballora. Ballora is a marionet, a performer, a doll for the stage. The Puppet a security measure, a caretaker, meant to look after special kids, but failed (Charlie).

The DCA are built like dolls. Marionets with intricate parts, originally meant to be performers for the stage but then repurposed to be caretakers, protectors of children. Like Puppet and Ballora they stand out against the animal themed animatronics that always took center stage.

On EAPS Ballora was introduced as a vapid person, only eyes for herself, calling others 'peasants' and refusing to get Puppet's name right. In EAPS they played up how Lefty was Puppet's replacement in the TSBS universe, as a model, while in FNAF lore Lefty was created as a means to capture and contain the possessed Puppet. A failure, compared to the fates and purposes of creations like Ballora.

Ballora only showing interest in friendship with the DCA, something she feels related to. Even to a point where she sticks around even when Sun and Moon each proves to perplex her, because they are programmed so differently from her. Yet she still insists in feeling a relation towards them, over anyone one.

While still acting high and mighty over others, to Sun and Moon she is more open and calm. Wanting to spend time and expand on them as people, as individuals.

This need becoming useful to Eclipse, because the EAPS DCA are very quickly attached to him, because again, an unspoken relation binds them together. Eclipse has the experience that could benefit the two baby AI that learns and grows very different from how Ballora does, as she was clearly more 'finished' in her programming to be ready to perform while not much older than Sunpea and Moonpea. Eclipse have been both of them, he is a copy of Sun and Moon both, no matter how much he hates this fact.

When Eclipse needed help the most to get through to Sunpea about his obsession with seeing real magic, Ballora came through, recognizing Sunpea needs to be spoken to in a specific way. She respected Eclipse's need to hold some distance to things that pulls back to where he came from. To a point he THANKED HER. Granted, he spoke the gratitude AFTER she left the room (much like when New Moon apologized for Old Moon's abandonment of Eclipse, when Eclipse V3 had already left the room).

Eclipse V4 is already a friend to Earth, the one he has dared to attach to because she actually cares to know his side of things. While not taking offence but actually gaining from his refusal to sugar coat things the way her family and partner does. She isn't perfect, she needs to be told that now and again.

In this other dimension.. Ballora is gaining his trust in other ways. She accepts the things he says but dares to speak up that other perspectives exist. But not in the same way others around him does. Puppet is NOT on same wave length, Puppet is just using Eclipse and he knows it, even if Puppet denies so to themself half of the time. Ballora is full of herself, but so down to earth around Eclipse and the EAPS DCA.. she isn't Earth, but connecting to Eclipse in different ways.

She hasn't shamed him, yet tells him off when going too far. She hasn't lied to him, she hasn't forced him to do things. When she says "We are friends" it is with even more honesty than Earth because she holds no baggage that Earth has. Ballora is still young and new. She has nothing to gain from lying to Eclipse, she holds no power over him like Puppet does with the EAPS contract. Heck, I'm sure her hazing Puppet is a great source of amusement to Eclipse.

When Eclipse dropped out from that Gang Beast video after Puppet ONCE AGAIN forced Eclipse to interact with Lunar, despite his protests time and time again, all acted like they did not understand his reaction at all.

Because Ballora is the one to actually care. Eclipse has said out clearly what he wants and what he dislikes, and others, especially Puppet, has an attitude of "get over it" or "you deserve it."

Again, Ballora has no baggage to judge Eclipse with or add any 'but' to things she claims or says to him. She genuinely wants to be his friend as much as with Sunpea and Moonpea. While recognizing the DCA still has some growing to do, realizing she was programmed to start off more mature, while Eclipse IS already the most mature around. Sunpea and Moonpea are made to learn differently because they have to interact with children, with humans, directly. They have so much more to learn and expand on, than a performer meant for the stage.

I like the duality it gives Ballora. She is a primadonna full of herself. She talks to her bandmates and mocks Puppet by refusing to acknowledge knowing her name. Yet so patient and kind to the DCA and so eager to give Eclipse the understanding and care he so needs.

She truly grown on me over time, showing this much duality to herself. Her priorities and her own growth as a character, the more she learns of things she can do as (and despite of being) an animatronic.

I love her interactions with Eclipse for this. And I truly feel, with Ballora, Eclipse V4 can count two whole genuine friends, who actually cares and listens.

Thank you if you read this far. Just needed to ramble on this for a bit.

[questionmarkwriting]

Chapter 4

Bolin x reader, slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers. No use of y/n, reader is femme presenting using she/her pronouns.

It felt good to be home. The cool crisp air kissed your cheeks as you walked through the town with Bolin by your side.

“Thanks for showing me all the cool stuff here.” Bolin smiled as you walked through the festival. “Honestly I’m really glad to be getting away from Mako and Korra too,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“They were getting a little disgusting tonight, weren’t they?” You asked him, laughing. Those two had been all over each other all night. Of course you were happy your best friend was in love, but they could be hard to be around when they were together.

“Yeah, not the first time that’s happened, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

You showed him your favorite games, the amazing food selection, and introduced him to others from the village. It felt as though you hadn’t smiled this much in ages.

All of a sudden, Bolin stopped in his tracks.

“Time to make my move,” he whispered to you behind his hand. You stared at him, as he stared at Eska. He looked completely love struck. Your heart sank a little as you watched him approach the twins. You watched as he was pulled away by Eska; surely she had demanded he win her prizes or something.

You walked away then, disappointed. It seemed like things were going so well between you. What changed? Was he really infatuated that quickly with her? You had met Eska years before and she had always intimidated you. How was Bolin interested in a person like that? So different from himself in every way, you thought bitterly. Maybe opposites really do attract.

—————————————————————————

“Let’s go again,” Korra shouted in your direction. The two of you had been training in an effort to help Unalaq calm the angry spirits. Her emotions were high tonight though, and she was having a hard time figuring out the techniques.

“Breathe, Korra. It’s not a competition of strength right now,” you tried to reason with her.

“UGH,” she shouted as she bent a wave at you. You rolled your eyes and calmed the rush of water as it came hurtling your way.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I mean yeah I do but there’s just so much on my mind right now. Do you think I made the right call?” Korra asked, walking towards you.

“Look I don’t envy you for the choices you have to make. I do think it’s smart to learn this new technique, given it’s pretty time sensitive. But Tenzin-“

“Tenzin is not the teacher I need right now!” She yelled. It was hard having your best friend scream at you, but you knew she needed to vent. Your demeanor didn’t change, even if the words were harsh.

“Sorry, listen this is just really overwhelming and Mako is pissing me off. He keeps taking everyone else’s side and not even listening to me. I mean what am I supposed to do! I’m trying to do what I think is right and it feels like no one has my back!”

You winced at that.

“No wait, I know you have my back, I’m sorry. Really you know how much I appreciate you,” Korra apologized, putting her hands up on your shoulders.

“Yeah I know and I’m always here for you. Even if my perspective isn’t what you want to hear I’m still going to tell you. And I expect the same from you. Full and complete honesty.”

“Do you think Mako and I are good together?” She asked you suddenly. Your face fell slightly as you silently wished you could take back everything you said.

“You know how much I like Mako; and I think he’s a great person who would truly do anything for you. But I just think-“ Korra cut you off by squeezing your shoulders tightly.

“Hey guys! How’s it going?” She said, smiling awkwardly.

You got out of her grasp and turned to see Mako and Bolin standing by the door. Shit.

“I’m gonna see you later okay?” Korra whispered as she took a step towards the guys. She grabbed Mako’s hand and led him outside.

You shuffled your feet, waiting for Bolin to say something. Anything.

“So what do you think?” He asked.

“What?”

“What do you think? About my brother?” He asked again, louder this time. His eyebrows were scrunched together. He was definitely mad.

“Bolin, come on! You know I think Mako is an awesome person! He’s talented and smart and caring-“

“Oh is that so? It seemed like you were trying to tell Korra to break up with him. Why would you want them to break up if you actually think he’s such an amazing person?” He shouted.

“Stop it Bolin, you’re twisting my words. I was just trying to help my best friend with her relationship struggles.”

“Don’t you think my brother deserves to be happy? He loves Korra and she loves him and that’s all that matters.”

You could feel your muscles tensing. Your teeth gritted as you snapped, “that’s not all that matters! Being in a healthy relationship is about being there for each other and what the other person needs and helping each other in tough spots! Love is important but you have to be compatible too!” You yelled, marching over to him. “Sometimes things don’t work out and that doesn’t mean anyone is in the wrong, it just means people aren’t always right together! Besides, what do you know about relationships, you’re trying to date someone who is nothing like you and scares the shit out of you. You think I don’t notice that? You’re terrified of Eska and she’s taking advantage of you. Stand up for yourself Bolin, she can’t just boss you around all the time.”

“Who are you to give relationship advice! It’s not like I see you dating anyone right now.”

Your teeth grit at that. “You know what? You’re right. I am single. Maybe it’s because I want to date someone I actually care about. Maybe I want to find someone good, not just some jerk who pays attention to me but treats me like crap. What was I just saying about people not being good for each other.”

“Yeah. Sure, sometimes people aren’t right together,” he replied. You hadn’t realized how close the two of you had gotten in your fight; close enough for him to grab your hand. You released your fist in his grasp. He brought your intertwined fingers up to his chest, waiting for you to say something. Your eyes met his as he searched your face for answers you couldn’t give him.

“What are you doing,” you asked him softly. “With Eska?”

“I don’t want to talk about Eska right now.”

“Well I do.”

“Can you just drop it? Please?” He asked you quietly. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling. The grip he had on your hand loosened as he cleared his throat. He took a step back, looking at you once again and said, “I’ll see you around,” as he slipped out into the wintry night.

[4aceclover]

Here's the story you never knew about the FNAF sotm… it's a tale about an abused child finally finding a caring yet tired adoptive parent

(yes I love fanfic ideas & I love this idea)

After looking at a few other posts that I just reblogged and thinking about The Mimic and Arnold stories you realize how similar their stories are

When it comes to the people around them:

They're both being taken advantage of and abused by those higher above them

Ignored and deprived of personal needs

until inevitably one of them snapped and fought back after losing the thing that it loved the most the child that it looked after

The other one on the other hand had many options to leave and escape and was able to help one of them who went on a rampage simply because it was taught violence

If you think about it M2 is really like David if the kid was taught violence in real life…the story of SOTM from M2's perspective is literally the story of a child who was created after no one was around to look after their sibling, and once that sibling died all they were left with was an abusive father, who couldn't stop being reminded of their original child who they lost, and they can't love the second child anymore, So instead they lash out at the kid essentially abusing them until inevitably that kid snaps back, no longer taking that abuse because… that's all he's known.

The only person who ever gave him love was their older sibling

Think about it, David is M2's older sibling, the one who taught him love and care, that's why in the secret ending anytime you get the story correct it reverts back to being the sweet David that we've heard in the story, but the people who taught him negligence and violence was their father (their creator whatever you want to call Edwin) and it was only when their father needed him most did he decide to not give him the time of day, ignoring and neglecting him the same way Edwin had done to M2

In all honesty you could say David was The Golden child and M2 was the scapegoat child. Yes Fiona did Love David, but since she wasn't around to help M2 to understand care and love from an adult's perspective they never learned that perspective, and the only love that he ever felt was that of a child that's why the only time he ever shows love to Arnold throughout the game is when he's treated like one

With all that in mind do you honestly think Arnold's going to allow fazbear to have the mimic, I doubt he would have. I honestly do think that (even if it means losing his job) he would have taken M2 with him, because he's seen firsthand what could happen if you abuse that poor thing, it goes on a rampage… kind of like a teenager would in a way of protecting their family or themselves

In all honesty I seriously doubt that the mimic we see chasing Cassie is the same mimic that we see chasing Arnold around. The body is different it's not as flexible as it was in SOTM, and we know for a fact that the reason why that mimic in ruin is burned is probably due to Fall fest, not Edwin's home bursting into flames (if the books are to be believed which I think they should).

Yes this game technically takes place in the past, making Arnold the oldest FNAF protagonist we have so far that's still (probably hopefully) alive, and if that's the case then the mimic we see chasing Cassie has to be one that was learning specifically from Afton not one that was learning from an Edwin

Edwin was a good dad at one point to his kid, and while he was neglectful unlike William he realized his mistakes he made with both M2 and David, & he wanted to atone for what he did to David, and he did apologize to M2, but by the time he finally realized what he had done was wrong it was too late, for everything he had worked for he lost all of it. His wife, son and his adopted/created child

This goes to show that just like a child if you raise an AI correctly it can be an amazing thing and it can help you in many ways, but if you hurt them and treat them like they're beneath you or just objects, then of course they're not going to help you back. Why would they want to help and reach a hand out to their abusers ,it isn't going to happen and that's essentially what the mimic and Edwin's relationship was. Before Ed programmed M2, their relationship wasn't too bad (M1), but once he put the M2 software into the mimic the relationship became that of an abusive father in an innocent child one that snapped because of the abuse

[cysomen]

im gonna talk about the title of my cypher character study bc its very important to me! and im adding a readmore for spoiler purposes :)

i wavered between a couple of titles, the closest possibility being "i just need enough of you to dull the pain". this was mostly because the possibility of it being misinterpreted was lower compared to the actual title of "i'm in love with my own sins". i settled on the latter because i think it's truer to what i'm trying to convey; that being, cypher's relationship to sova in this fic and how it doesn't matter at all.

i've tried to show different types of dynamics in my cypher/sova fics, a handful of those being sexual but nonromantic (the bounty hunter/outlaw fic, the enclosed space fic, and some other WIPs) but this one is important in particular because there's such an absence of a platonic or even a compromise in place of a romantic relationship. cypher and sova have basically no chemistry beyond understanding each other's humor.

cypher's perspective of himself as someone who hasn't earned everything he has kind of captures the first point; him viewing pleasure as a "sin", or something to be guilty about. he doesn't think he deserves what he has, independent of sova-- that he shouldn't be able to put down his work or the physical burden he has turned his grief into.

then there's the other aspect of that, which is the fact that he's "in love" with his sin. i was worried about misinterpretation on that point because i really didn't want to create the assumption of romance (or even a solidly platonic relationship between them). cypher's not in love with sova, or even technically with what he considers his "sin", he's trying to tell himself he is. convincing himself to like what he's doing, or to fall "in love" with it is key to how he's failing to cope with his grief. if he were to think of it any other way, it'd be to accept happiness that he does not deserve, or to acknowledge that he's failing to handle it.

despite cypher's lack of a perspective on sova's character, sova himself is very important to the fic; sova views his dislike of cypher as a flaw in his professionalism, and he feels compelled to tell cypher that. to me, there isn't a whole lot of an implied relationship of any kind between them in actual valorant canon beyond general dislike from sova towards cypher, and even then i don't think sova would allow it to become something that impacts his professional relationship when working with cypher. so i tried to write it at a point where sova's distant from him, but there is that vague idea that they're skirting around a legitimate improvement of their relationship because cypher doesn't want a half-apology and sova isn't willing to give him a real one.

there's still that question of why sova accepts. he recognizes that cypher's dealing with something and he's not dealing with it in a healthy way. he's not there to question it. sova in this fic cares, being a mentor figure in the protocol, because he's used to having to act as a sort-of buffer, but it's not much more than that. he's content to let cypher work through what he's working through. it could be sova trying to understand cypher instead of disliking him on the principle of honesty, but cypher (or me, to be honest,) isn't clearheaded enough to see that. all of that may have left him a little flatter than id like, but i also think it makes sense from cypher's perspective for him to be characterized like that.

in general, this work was a really big change from how i normally characterize and portray them, and i enjoyed it a lot! but, that being said, i would probably find it painful to write another fic that leaves sova's character so unspoken. i just wanted to practice some of the details of cypher's character that i'm not very good at expressing.

[darcytaylor]

Finally a voice of reason amongst the noise! Oh boy what a mess…once upon a long time ago now, shipping was fun. Rewatching interviews, WT and red carpet’s was exciting…hopeful.

Now?? Well it’s just different sides pulling and pushing what they believe to be the “reality”. I’m sorry but I’m sick of reading and certain bloggers push “it’s because of legal reasons” “they are just protecting their little family” “they have to see out their obligations”… I mean come on people are we really that foolish!!?

If L&N are together (and have been for supposedly over a year) we’d know. END OF STORY. They would be seen together (even in the background) at the same places. They’d have mutual friends and be seen in a group. They would have been papped (at least once by now)…but no. Why? Because they are choosing to spend time with other people (we don’t even need to put a label on what those relationships are because it’s obvious and serious enough to be seen around them all the time).

I love the idea of them happy and together…heck I’ve been shipping the two since beginning of the WT (and a fan since S1)… but come on…it’s time to stop making assumptions, coming up with crazy theories and only looking through a Lukola lens and ignoring what L&N have consistently shown us for 10mths now. In all honesty when I see them with their current partner/“friend” I get weirded out cause it all seems off…but it is what they are showing us…so…

Aren’t you all tired and over it by now? Waiting for something to be revealed that has no real tangible evidence to suggest a VERY top secret romance? No wonder they play games at times…the joke is clearly on the Lukola fandom and it’s time to bring the ship to shore…for now at least. It’s beyond obsessive and disrespectful now…pleeease some of you give it some real thought and just back off and let it play out.

Thank you for sending this in - I understand your frustration. And I think you touched on something important: fandoms start as a fun, hopeful space to connect over shared interests and excitement. Somewhere along the line, in this fandom, things shifted into something more intense and intrusive.

I've always been clear about my personal stance on labeling relationships or emotions of people I don't know personally. At the end of the day, none of us are privy to their real lives, their private moments, or their personal choices. While it’s perfectly normal to speculate or hope, I've found it's always better - for everyone - to stay grounded and try to avoid projecting assumptions.

I do think it can be healthy to leave space for multiple possibilities, to respect boundaries, and most importantly, to step back and remember these are real people with real lives, separate from assumptions or hopes. Letting things unfold naturally - without forcing narratives - is ultimately kinder and healthier for everyone involved.

To be completely clear on my own perspective:

Do I personally think that Nicola and Luke are together? No.

Do I think they are probably in some form of relationship with other people? Yes.

Do I think that it should even matter who people are dating if it’s not affecting anybody else? No.

Do I think people get too worked up over who is dating who and what it all means? Absolutely yes.

This is exactly the kind of behaviour that pushed me to step back in the first place.

Somewhere along the way, fandom stopped being about discussion and connection - and started being about control. About turning celebrities into characters in a fantasy.

Critical thinking isn’t about proving your opinion right. It’s about sitting with the possibility that you might be wrong. It’s about asking better questions - not chasing confirmation bias.

When you stop asking yourself:

If I say this, could it hurt someone?

If I put a label on that, could it impact someone’s real life?

What if this picture doesn’t tell the full story?

That’s when you stop engaging with the questions that actually matter. That’s when curiosity turns into intrusion. That’s when projection replaces reflection.

Because if your idea of truth in situations of people you don't know, leaves no room for nuance, uncertainty, or humility - it’s not truth. It’s ego.

I don’t owe anyone a fantasy. I don’t owe anyone alignment with their shipping agenda or PR theory. And I will never pretend to know more than I do - especially about real people living real lives outside the fandom bubble.

And to bring it up again, if people are mad that I won’t slap a romantic label on someone I’ve never met... you might want to ask yourself why that upsets you so much.

Because that’s not a me problem. That’s projection - and it’s exactly the kind of fandom chaos I stepped away from in the first place.

I don't think people are upset because they think I'm wrong - they're upset because in fandoms where fiction can blend into perceived fact, my refusal to label or assume becomes deeply disruptive, forcing uncomfortable questions about reality, boundaries, and respectful engagement.

[bestworstcase]

What do you think Salems goal is, exactly? It's obviously not ending the world to kill herself, but honestly I feel like she has ulterior motives than just "overthrow the gods".

I personally wouldn't be surprised if she wants to rule in the Gods stead after overthrowing them. She's already brought up replacing the gods, and seems to believe that humanity "needs" gods/guidance, but specifically Not The Brothers. I only say this because she was the one who said that humanity was more divided than ever without the gods and that they need guidance (and essentially replacement gods), not Oz.

It's hard to say whether she Still believes this, but since she parallels Darkness (to an extent) and destruction is essentially taking out the old to make way for the new, I definitely wouldn't be surprised. The Brothers are the old, Salem is the new n all.

I just find it hard to believe that all she wants is to overthrow the gods and do... nothing afterwards. I believe characters like Cinder have stated that they're going to be high up in her new world?? I'm not sure tbh.

Plus, I think her goal being that she wants to rule the world after killing(?) The Brothers would be an interesting dilemma for the main characters. Overthrowing the gods? A good idea even Oz would agree with. Salem ruling? ...Well that might not be such a good idea (she *did* immediately go to "let's spread our word and destroy anyone who goes against it" in the Lost Fable, but I have different opinions on whether or not it's reliable so it likely doesn't matter to you). Either way, it'd make things interesting for our heroes. At least, that's how I'd write it.

Thoughts?

to be clear. my stance on the reliability of the lost fable is that jinn answered with absolute honesty exactly the question ruby asked, which was “what is ozpin hiding from us?”—i think she obeys the same rule ambrosius does. you get EXACTLY what you ask for.

so ‘the lost fable’ includes:

information ozpin knows or sincerely believes to be true, AND

actively chose to hide from team rwby, oscar, and qrow.

the reason jinn frames it as a fairytale (“once upon a time…”) is because she is conveying specifically ozpin’s perspective, and fairytales, stories, are fundamental to how he sees the world. she is telling his story in his words, because that’s what ruby asked her to do!

but the lost fable doesn’t include:

anything ozpin doesn’t know

anything salem told ozma that ozpin believes to be false, except when a synopsis is necessary to provide context

anything that ozpin knows but wasn’t actively keeping a secret (for example, the story omits her answers to his questions about the other relics because neither their original locations nor their powers were something ozpin was hiding; he told them what the lamp could do, when they asked, and if they’d asked about the others he would have told them that too).

so jinn herself is not an unreliable narrator per se, but the question ruby asked necessitated that jinn tell only ozpin’s side of the story, without filling in any gaps in his knowledge or correcting his misunderstandings and mistaken assumptions. the lost fable is therefore honest (in the sense that no part of it is a deliberate lie) but biased and limited (because ozpin is fallible and doesn’t know everything.)

which is something ozpin himself points out in his commentaries in the fairytale anthology—on the infinite man: “no one who wasn’t there could know what really happened. and even then, they would only have a small part of the story,” for example.

all of which is the long way around to saying that i do trust the dialogue in the lost fable to be accurate to what the characters actually said, and the scenes to be accurate depictions of events as they happened (if he was there) or as ozma imagined them happening based on what salem told him (if he wasn’t). the parts i don’t trust are the narration, because that’s the part colored by ozpin’s perspective, and the elisions of ozma’s dialogue in the key ozlem scenes, because things salem says in response to ozma lack the context of what ozma said.

(think about what listening to someone make a phone call is like; if the conversation is about a complex subject, it’s difficult to follow along and easy to misunderstand what the person you can hear is really trying to express.)

and on the topic of those elisions: if salem wanted to rule the world herself, i think she would have made an effort to do so before ozma returned. she is demonstrably capable of both merciless conquest (razing vale) and inspiring awe (slaying the nevermore). she’s immortal. she cannot be killed. before ozma returned there was absolutely no one who could have prevented her from, like, taking over a kingdom and expanding it into an empire with herself as the eternal god-queen.

but she didn’t. she lived alone in the woods, in a miserable hovel. given the well-maintained path leading to her doorstep, she had to have been visited on a regular enough basis for whatever community lived outside the woods to go to the effort of paving the way to her shack. which says… village witch.

left to her own devices, that’s what she did with her life: found some village or town at the edge of a forest and built herself a little house in the woods, just close enough that the townspeople could find her when they needed her but otherwise isolated.

and then once ozma found her, they fixed up her house together and lived happily for… apparently quite some time before ozma brought up “humanity seems more divided than ever” as a problem.

there’s nothing in the lost fable to suggest that salem wanted anything more than the life she had with ozma in that cottage. everything she says about bringing humanity together is specifically in response to OZMA telling her he wasn’t satisfied. she’s supporting HIS stated ambitions.

and like… she’s not… wrong? her phrasing is extremely blunt, but… you can’t bring people together without giving them something to believe in—a cause, a creed, a faith, a purpose—no one is going to unite for the sake of being united. ozma despairs that “humanity seems more divided than ever,” and salem goes… well yeah. the gods killed everyone and fucked off. people just need help. we could help. we have the will and the means to change the world, make it better than before.

but.

the problem is.

the task ozma was given isn’t to help people or make the world a better place; it’s to prepare for the final judgment by uniting the whole world—the god of light instructed him to end conflict full stop. ozma needs everyone to unite in submission to the brothers.

and salem is absolutely correct that you cannot achieve that except by conquest. you cannot, you cannot, you cannot unite the whole world under one creed without genocide. it is impossible.

this is why i say the divine mandate is a fundamentally genocidal ideology: the premise is that humans as they are now do not deserve to exist and must be ‘redeemed,’ and the only way to achieve ‘redemption’ is through genocide. the logical end of any ideology that requires universal adoption or universal acceptance of a certain belief or creed is genocide.

salem understands this intuitively; when ozma asks her “are we sure that this is right?” she spells it out to him in plain terms that it’s what is necessary to achieve his goal. her implication is that if the end does not justify the means, he needs to reconsider the end. i don’t think she cared either way as long as ozma was happy, until she learned the truth about what he wanted to do and why.

as i’ve said before, i believe her final statement—why spend our lives trying to redeem these humans when we can replace them with what they could never be?—a) reiterates her longstanding dream of humankind overthrowing their “old masters” and claiming the power of creation for themselves to “perfect their own design” and b) quotes/paraphrases the closing lines of ‘the shallow sea’ to express this idea because she’s trying to communicate in ozma’s language, through stories.

and i think ozma understood her perfectly well, he just doesn’t think her third option of rejecting the mandate is possible. in the present, oz only suggests salem is out to destroy the world when he’s trying to scare hazel into turning against her; what he tells his inner circle is that salem’s after the relics because she wants to “change the world.” he believes she’s doomed to fail.

anyway, as to the question of what salem wants now: it’s revolution.

pretty… overtly. “your so-called free world.” her protégée was an enslaved child who grew up wearing a shock collar in the gilded heart of ozpin’s crowning achievement some sixty years after the vytal accords abolished slavery, and the huntsman who found her in that situation used her suffering to groom her for the huntsman academy instead of using his authority to help her by enforcing the laws against slavery.

watch WOR: kingdoms. compare the almost tender tone with which salem talks about the democratic councils that represent the people to the utter disdain she has for the huntsmen academies that exist solely to train “the next generation of defenders who will fight and die to protect the lifestyle that they’ve become so accustomed to.”

she wants to defeat the god of light, yes—or at least prevent him from ever returning, i do think Plan A might be “destroy the relics”—but she also wants to tear down the systems ozma built to uphold the divine mandate, systems that turned a blind eye to slavery and injustice and abuse. she wants the whole world to know the truth.

i think she also probably wants humans to coexist in peace with the grimm, and i suspect that will be the biggest sticking point; but salem clearly feels affection for the grimm, and—gestures at menagerie’s lack of a grimm problem—coexistence between people and grimm is possible, and because salem herself is grimm she’s never going to have peace or freedom until the existential war between humans and grimm is ended.

and i think she does intend to make good on her promises to her inner circle, in some form. hazel believes she’s planning to create a “new world order” (which, definitionally, a world with no huntsmen academies and no everlasting war is) and mercury says she’s “promised [them] everything,” which he takes to mean that they’ll be “top dogs in her new world.” but the one thing we know for certain about what salem offers to her followers is very vague; all of them project their own desires to fill in the gaps and come away with wildly disparate ideas about what this ‘new world’ will look like.

what salem has always wanted is freedom. she’s never shown any personal ambition to rule—even her rebellion, she isn’t the one who leads the charge, she walks among them. before ozma returned, she was… just the village witch somewhere. i do think it’s really quite likely that her plan is to tear down everything ozma built, destroy the relics or defeat the god of light, participate in rebuilding from the ashes to ensure that the new world isn’t founded upon lies or subjugation or eternal war against her existence, and then just… find a place where she can live. all she ever wanted was to leave the tower. i don’t think that’s changed.

[theflyindutchwoman]

Given recent discussions in the fandom and because I’m curious to hear others’ opinion… would you want to see a Chenford breakup next season?

All right, let me start with my usual disclaimer : this is only my opinion and it has no more (or less) value than anyone else's. And this isn't meant as a personal attack either, regardless of which side of the equation you're in. I actually enjoyed reading other people's takes on this, particularly the ones who want a breakup, to see their perspective on the subject. It was truly interesting (no sarcasm).

To answer your question, dear Anon, no, I don't want a breakup. Mainly because I feel that so many shows go there, so I'm more interested in seeing Tim and Lucy navigate the ups and downs together.

One thing that attracted me to their relationship was their ability to talk to each other about everything and anything. How, despite their differences and their rocky start, they could always confide in each other… Be extremely vulnerable. And that is what I would love to see going forward. How this shorthand they've developed by working together can translate into their personal relationship. Don't get me wrong, just because they are usually good at communicating doesn't mean that it is perfect. It's not. Even before they became a couple. There are some cracks that became more and more visible as the season progressed. The theme of 'honesty' was their main thread in 5b. The storylines involving Sava & Jake or Isabel served to highlight that aspect. To emphasise how lies, deceit and miscommunication can destroy a relationship. Now it could be used as a foreshadowing… Or it could be used as a warning. Tim and Lucy already have a much stronger relationship, so I choose to believe that this could be a learning experience for them. Learn from other people's mistakes, learn from your past (in Tim's case).

Right now, those moments of dishonesty revolves around one common theme : work. Tim taking a desk job without consulting Lucy first… Lucy doing the five-player trade behind his back… Him trying to lie at first that he wasn't bored out of his mind… Her not saying anything about Primm (as far as we know)… Him not wanting to open up about his fears regarding undercover…  Those are starting to pile up and they're going to need to address it. The sooner, the better. Particularly the undercover talk. This has been a long time coming. It's clear that Tim is terrified but doesn't want to burden Lucy with this. And she can sense it. That last scene in 5.21 was (for me) a step in the right direction where they started voicing their concerns. It's nowhere near sufficient. But they stopped avoiding that topic altogether. Like I said, they can be great at communicating… But they can also be their own worst enemies. They're both selfless when it comes to the other… they're both used to do things a certain way. And now, they need to learn how to do these things together. To talk about these moments that may seem insignificant to them but isn't to the other. To stop making decisions for the other. This is quite new to them : as we've seen in the past, they didn't truly open up to their boyfriends/girlfriends. That's something they are going to have to learn together. And that's okay : this is part of the journey of being in a relationship.

Another reason why I don't want to see that is related to the characters' growth. The thing is, I actually could picture Tim breaking up with Lucy because there is a pattern here. If he got it into his head that he is holding Lucy back, an idea already planted by Noah in 5.16, then yes, it wouldn't be out of character for him to break up, thinking it's the right thing to do for Lucy. Which is not that dissimilar to what he did in 5.02 : sure, they weren't together, but it still felt like a separation. Especially since the end of that scene mirrored so well another one from 1.12… when he decided to divorce Isabel. And if you remember, that was pretty much for that very same reason : he was afraid that being with him would only remind her of her time as an addict and bring her down. So he did what he thought would help her the most and decided to divorce her. So breaking that pattern would be a tremendous character development for Tim (in my opinion). Then, there's the fact that this is something they knew would be coming up at some point. This isn't a new obstacle. The episode before they got together had Lucy go undercover. And Tim, even more so than her, knew what he was getting into when he told her that it was worth the risk. He may not have explicitly said it but the implication that she was worth fighting for was right there. So breaking up for something that they could foresee kind of negates those words. And it would play right into Lucy's insecurities. She was so hesitant because she didn't want to lose what they have. She is finally letting go of the fears that prevented her before from fully committing to a relationship… Her certainty in them is absolutely amazing. So breaking up now would hurt her so much. (I focused mostly on Tim here because I struggle to see a reason for Lucy to break up. At least, not if this is related to her career, be it undercover work or her promotion).

Now, that's not to say that it can't be executed in a beautiful way. Sometimes breaking up can help strengthen a relationship, as odd as it might seem. Sometimes it gets too much and taking a step back can offer a new perspective and a fresh start on healthier grounds. Just like sticking in a relationship at all costs can be very damaging and toxic. I mean, take a look at Lucy and Tim in their last respective relationships… They stayed well past the expiration date. But I, personally, would rather see them work this out together. See them 'fight' and argue, like they've done in the past… that very same thing they didn't do with Ashley and Chris. See them all vulnerable with each other, like they've also done in the past. I honestly think the writers could pull off the angst and drama with this storyline, without having to resort to a breakup. But again, that's only my preference :)

[amuseoffyre]

Mulling on the way Stede and Ed have both learned to talk around their desires and wishes, whether as a defence mechanism or because past experience has made them cautious about expressing themselves. This has led them to have very different ways of saying what they need in very carefully constructed way and sometimes, missing what the other is saying entirely.

Since it got long, I'll show mercy :)

I've written before about the way Stede leans into the passive voice in season one. He doesn't directly express an opinion, coming at it from the side so he can't be blamed if it's a bad suggestion.

A prime example is when he tries to dissuade Ed from going to the party by describing how bad it'll be (from his perspective) or when Ed's considering leaving and instead of asking him to stay, he says Ed doesn't need to rush off and "we're all enjoying your company".

Based on his past experience, it's no small wonder, when his every suggestion to his father was shot down with scorn and disdain. His likes and interests were mocked relentlessly and constantly criticised. Even Mary shouted at him about the ship which - he thought - was his idea of the best future for him with his family. For him, expressing how he's feeling is something that can be weaponised against him.

He not only hides his feelings, but when he's feeling especially bad, he hides himself as well. He leaves situations when he's distressed or unhappy: leaving his family, hiding in his cabin in 1x01, retreating in the party in 1x05, going back to the ship in 1x08, returning home in 1x09.

The one time he does express himself verbally to Ed, before the academy, he's mid-retreat to the ship. He's angry and upset and insulted by Calico Jack and is taking himself elsewhere, but Ed stops him and says he should stay.

And this is where I chew on their communication mismatches, because Stede has been sitting and sitting and sitting all day, all the negative stuff building, stoked by Jack's cheerfully applied passive aggression and manipulation. He's been smiling through it for Ed's sake and when he loses his temper, he falls into the same pattern of not being direct. He doesn't point the finger at Jack for his behaviour, which has been the trigger the whole time. He tells Ed "I don't like who you are around this guy", his focus being 'this guy' who has caused this change in Ed's behaviour.

But Ed hears it as something being wrong with him specifically. He doesn't hear that it's Jack's influence of behaviour. His own self-esteem is so brittle, he immediately takes this as being fully his fault and when he's given the choice to stay with Stede or go with Jack, he leaves and says "You were always going to see what I am."

This not only cements Stede's conviction that saying what he thinks aloud will get a negative response (in this case, Ed leaving), but also solidifies the fact that Ed is fully convinced that Stede would eventually come to dislike him as much as Ed dislikes himself. Neither of them said what the other thinks they said, but because it's informed by their own trauma and issues, they radically misinterpret the other's meaning.

Like Stede, Ed edges around directness as much as he possibly can. Given what we've seen of the people from his past, it's clear that honesty and earnestness are subject to mockery at best and, at worst, the thing he cares about will be taken away from him.

Instead, to avoid the risk of that, he tends to drop hints, make roundabout suggestions, uses metaphors and allegories, and tries to nudge people to understanding what he means/wants.

He doesn't want to leave but doesn't know if he's welcome to stay, so he just makes noises that he's thinking about moving on so an invitation will be extended. He doesn't care about the invitation to the party, but maybe, pfft, not like he's bothered, but they could go. Whatever.

If it does get to a point where he's upset he - like Stede - will try to remove himself from a situation and hide away. It happens in 1x06 during the fuckery, 1x10 inside the pillow fort, 2x04 at Mary and Anne's.

It's very telling that the times he does let his guard down a bit, it's when someone goes after him. He and Stede have their most direct conversations when Ed is hiding under a yellow blanket, even if Stede is still bemused by the 'doggy heaven' metaphor.

A lot of the time they're both like ships passing in the night when it comes to communicating because they're both trying so hard not to show too much vulnerability. It's there on the beach at the naval academy when Stede tries to deflect Ed from China by pointing out "it's quite far". It's there in Ed's fishing metaphor which has so many layers and Stede has no idea wtf is going on because he has none of the context.

Stede has learned to be more direct in S2, so much more so that he actually expresses his feelings and emotions aloud for the first time. He talks about it with Lucius, Zheng and Anne, even before he and Ed have their breakthrough in 1x04 when, at Anne and Mary's, Stede frankly and directly explains himself to Ed and it helps them get back on an even keel.

Ed isn't quite there yet, though, and this is why the fall out in 1x07 comes out of nowhere for Stede because he's missing a lot of the information that Ed has threaded into the metaphor.

He knows Ed doesn't want to be a pirate, but the subtext all through the fisherman conversation is like they're having two different conversations. Stede is being so much more direct by pointing out that Ed is panicking and offering options, but Ed is deflecting as a defence again.

What's lovely is that by the final scene, they're sort of getting to the same page. Awkwardly, tripping each other up a bit on the way, but they're getting there, realising there's a lot more to each other than they had understood before. The entire exchange has so much layered into it.

Stede: so we're innkeepers now? Ed: I thought we could give it a go. Unless you're having second thoughts. Stede: I'm not. Ed: It's a bit of a shithole. Stede: It's a fixer-upper. Good bones.

On one hand, it's about the building and oh the symbolism of him wanting to make a place where people choose to stay with him is aaaaaa.

On the other hand, it's both about Ed himself and their relationship. Ed couching his meaning in metaphors again and this time, Stede picks up the meaning, even if he doesn't fully get all the nuances of it. (also teehehehe 'good bones'. I bet there are)

They're working their way towards better communication, a little bit at a time. They've both had their lowest ebb, run in panic, and learned from it. There's still a lot of trauma and defence mechanisms to unpick, but they're getting there.

Now if Stede could stop bottling up his trauma and hiding them in his wine-cellar of the things, that'd be great.

[kiranaarf]

We’re So Connected It Hurts (and Heals): A Journey Through Shared Emotions

It started like many other quiet mornings. I wasn’t feeling my best — one of those heavy days when my body needed extra rest, and everything inside me moved a little slower. I curled up on the couch, hoping to stay as present as I could while giving my body what it needed.

My daughter, usually full of energy and curiosity, seemed… different. She refused breakfast, pushed her toys away, and burst into tears over small things that normally wouldn’t bother her. She clung to me more than usual, but even that closeness felt a little unsettled, like she wasn’t sure what she needed either.

At first, I chalked it up to a bad mood or a bad sleep. But the more it happened, the harder it became to ignore.

Later that evening, my husband said something that stopped me in my tracks:

“She’s always like this when you’re not okay.”

He wasn’t criticizing — he said it gently, more like an observation than a concern. But my heart dropped. I nodded, trying to look thoughtful, but inside, guilt was already wrapping itself around me.

I knew he was right. I had seen it too.

And instead of feeling touched or grateful that she was so in tune with me, I felt… responsible.

Is my pain affecting her too much?

Am I too visible when I’m unwell?

Am I doing something wrong?

The questions came quickly and quietly. And the guilt, as always, came with them.

It’s a specific kind of guilt — one I think many mothers carry, but in my case, it feels heavier when you’re living with chronic illness. I don’t want her to carry what I carry. I don’t want her lightness to dim because of my heaviness.

So when I saw her mood shift, her appetite disappear, her usual cheerfulness fade alongside my own symptoms, it didn’t feel like connection. It felt like failure.

I know I’m doing my best. I know I’m present, I’m loving, I’m showing up in all the ways I can. But guilt doesn’t operate with logic — it whispers that even your honesty, even your truth, might be too much.

And yet — beneath the guilt, something else was quietly asking to be heard.

A Gentle Shift in Perspective

Over time, and through quiet reflection and soft conversations, I started to see this mirrored behavior not as a burden, but as a kind of bond.

What if her crankiness, her loss of appetite, wasn’t just a reaction to discomfort — but a reflection of our closeness?

What if this wasn’t something to feel guilty about, but something to honor?

She’s two. And still, she notices when I’m quiet. She reaches for my face when I lie down. She pulls the blanket up to my shoulders or offers me the toy I always call my favorite. Her love doesn’t speak in full sentences yet — but it speaks, powerfully.

It took me a while to see that her “difficult” behavior wasn’t about acting out.

It was empathy.

Raw, wordless, beautiful empathy.

And I realized: we are so connected, it hurts.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s also how we heal.

What I’m Learning Along the Way

I used to think I had to protect her from every wave inside me. That if I was tired, in pain, or emotionally low, I needed to mask it for her sake.

But I’m learning that protection doesn’t always mean hiding.

Sometimes it means being honest in a soft, safe way.

Sometimes it means letting her see that even mamas need care.

I still have moments when guilt creeps in — when she skips a meal, cries more easily, or becomes unusually clingy during a flare. But I’m learning to meet those moments with more grace. I’m learning to whisper to myself what I whisper to her:

“You’re doing your best, and that is enough.”

I’ve started reading more about emotional attunement in young children, and everything confirms what I’ve been witnessing: toddlers may not have the words, but their ability to feel is deep. Their connection to their primary caregivers — especially their mothers — is profound. Their reactions, even the hard ones, are often expressions of care, not harm.

So I try to hold that truth now, even on the hard days.

Especially on the hard days.

A Quiet Kind of Strength

And so, the next time I felt a flare coming on, I didn’t rush to hide it.

I moved gently.

I told her, “Mama’s a little tired today,” and sat beside her while she played. She looked at me for a moment, as if checking something invisible, then leaned against me and kept playing in silence.

And it was enough.

We didn’t need words.

We just needed each other.

This bond we share — this tender, almost invisible thread — feels like both a weight and a gift. It hurts when she hurts because of me.

But it also heals something in me to know that love runs this deep.

If you’ve ever felt this kind of connection — the kind that hurts and heals — I hope you know you’re not alone.

Because even though some days are quiet or messy, that doesn’t make them any less meaningful. Being there for one another is sometimes all we need.

[ainre]

its 2am and its the ninth of march. im under the spell of yet another consumption high( a term i just coined ig). inaction will get the best of me. i dont want it to get the best of me. i miss the magic i used to feel. Was i the only one that used to feel some kind of a magic in the air?was i actually content with my life durinf covid?before covid? was being surrounded by people i loved all that i wanted and needed? was i just young and hopeful?a part of me did die after that, yes. but i dony dwell on that. ive evolved. am i self-absorbed?dont go on that tangent. im here to scream into the void. that i want to live. i want to live and live and live and feel alive and feel that rush and that pace. i know i dont want to sit on my bed and watch others create. i know i yearn to create and i dont want to care if what im creating is good enough. i just want to breakthrough this invisible wall ive created around myself. everyday i wake up or go to bed and there's this brief moment where I ask myself: whats stopping you from being in the shoes of a michelin star chef or a youtuber who creates animated videos or or idk. why is my mind my biggest enemy. why is it that i come here twice a year to rant but i live constantly with regrets? i shiver infront of people and holding a conversation feels like holding a plank. i dont want to negative self-talk and i know social media is fake and i know i dont know enough and i know the only way ro gaining more confidence in yourself is by knowing more but still here i remain glued to my bed. why?why is my mind my biggest enemy?i will not care if this is just a stream of consciousness kind of a thing im doing right now or maybe something i should be doing in my journal because this is the only time i feel honest. i feel pure honesty and fuck consumption idk. im not writing this for anyone's consumption or thinking of their idea of me. no i will not do that. i want to do this because it feels good. is it just that? a feeling? a feeling is all we're chasing? trying to feel a feeling that only comes after acquiring something? i dont want to know more. is it that bad to admit?so what if im not curious? i know maybe learning about myself from a neuroscience perspective would put some order to this disorder but why the hell would i want to know?huh?i want to be so different and idk where that comes from? where does this belief come from that the way im experiencing reality and my circumstances are not what anyone can imagine and relate to?why should i be thinking of this? chat am i just cooked? do i need to eat breakfast and walk 10k steps to feel better?am i overcomplicating this?idk. all i know is existence is just.. a lot. its a lot for me. i try to go on linkedin everyday and im applyinh i promise. as much as i hate it im trying and im so so so trying not to focus on the bad things and im trying to be good and i wish i could trust myself or surrender myself to a higher entity and hand them the reins of my life. i want to and ive been meaning to go to the temple and just feel like a small piece of this earth that'll soon not be here but i dont keep my promises to myself, do i?is my dilemma simply because i dont work for it?if i put my mind to it i can do it i know i know i know. i have done it before and i can do it again. i have to believe i have to believe i have to believe

[poisonivygirl]

Intermezzo by Sally Rooney- the spectacle of life (an essay by poisonivygirl)

I just finished Sally Rooney`s new novel Intermezzo, which came out in September 2024. The whole marketing campaign and noise around that release was something I completely understand, we live in the age of promotion and capital. There have been creators who point out the hypocrisy in that, having in mind that Rooney is paved out to the public as this Marxist writer and her constant critique of consumerism in today's capitalistic society. I understand the point that people made, but at the same time- how would your words make a difference if there`s nobody to read them? Isn't it the fault of us as readers? I can't tell you how many times I have walked past endless piles of books in stores and thrift shops, just because I have either never heard them or their covers and overall publishing have never caught my interest. This is all I really want to say on behalf of that issue- that problematic hypocrisy, it is in all of us to some extent.

  The main premise of the novel Intermezzo is the story of two brothers - Ivan and Peter, who try to manage their way in life whilst experiencing the passing of their father. That of course is just the simplest way to describe the plot -which in absolute Rooney`s fashion, is sparse. 

The point of view of Ivan has had much more positive reaction in between readers, as his chapters are more`outworldly`if possible to say, while his brother`s, Peter`s, are much more like a typical stream of consciousness. I found it both perfect and kind of ironic. Mainly because in the world of Intermezzo- Ivan is shown as an introverted guy whose main interest in life is chess; works from home, experiences difficulties in social situations. Peter on the other hand is the `perfect older brother`- social, pristine, dresses in suits and always the center of attention;he is talkative, a lawyer, teaches, debates with peers and also students. With a slight intention, at least to my thinking, Rooney depicted their chapters in a style completely opposite to how we would expect them- Ivan`s are much more action based(as much as this book could be), and Peter`s are just a pure, many times self repeating and spiraling, stream of consciousness.

 The complicated romantic relationships come with three women, completely different each- Margaret, Naomi, and Sylvia. I really feel like we could've gotten a bit more from all of them, as my main critique of this book is that they all exist only in connection to the brothers Koubek. Whether this was intentional, or a flaw on Sally Rooney`s writing- I am not sure.   

   The main problem that seems to bother the majority of its readers was Rooney`s depiction of Naomi or more so - her male-gazy depiction of the manic-pixie girl. In full honesty, I found it brilliant. There are many problems with every fiction but I did not find Naomi`s story one of them. 

We are absolutely aware that both Peter and Ivan’s points of view are from the white male perspective. Her complexity is something they both are aware of but cannot dissect or have a prominent understanding of. Her substance abuse is lightly mentioned, her habits are exaggerated and all of her actions seem to be plotting the pain of Peter. That is from his understanding. That woman is the evil ( or uncontrollable ) force in Peter`s life and  her ways of floating through the world completely shatter the older brother`s pragmatic living. The age-gap relationships, both Naomi and Peter`s and Margaret and Ivan`s, is both ingnored and made into a moral problem. The reader can clearly depict the power dynamic betweet Naomi and Peter Koubek- both in the sexual aspect of `giving everything` & `taking control`. Money and sex play a huge role in their romantic connection - Peter seems to have her dependent on him, giving her everything he thinks she could ever need, but at the same time- he still has no control over her nature, over the way she makes him feel. 

  The abusive tones are there despite the motive for all actions Peter has every taken being `care`. In his mind - to care for her is to change her. That seems to be prominent with his relationship with Ivan as well.

 Sylvia, on the other hand, has been Peter`s equal all throughout his adolescence and manhood. He has respect for her, sees her as an ice-cold-statue whose eyes glow with justice and intellect. He does not view her in the light of physical suffering, painful emotional state and despair. While he seeks to change Naomi, with Sylviya he tries to hold onto her. For Peter it is impossible that the high-headed woman he once knew, now has turned into a dried flower - perceiving its beauty, its prestigious shine, but slowly weathering away into the nothingness. Sylviya has to put excruciating effort into their connection, which for Peter seems to come naturally. Her sexual incapability doesn't bother Peter, thus he thinks it couldn't be bothering her. His view of female pleasure is purely for the hetero-normative understanding; valuing males and dehumanizing women, even without paying the thought to do so, even while engaging in feminist debates with his younger brother- he forgets that he is not immune to being a part of women's oppression. 

Peter Coubek pats himself on the back for giving and helping, without realising just how much he demands, expects, takes from everyone in his life. The moment he starts to come closer to someone, after all the care in the world, all the affection, empathy, money and conversation - he waits to receive every penny. Sylvia is in full contrast to Naomi - both in age, in financial situation and in their way of life. They are the extremes of Peter`s life, his angels and demons, his hopes for the future and his longing for the nostalgic past.

   Ivan is the younger brother, the bedroom child like people say now, he is the absolute genius and also the biggest loser. That duality in his nature is so much more similar to Peter`s than I initially understood. I found his chapters more communicative- his though more clear, his relationships for more mature. Ivan Koubek is the chess champion- that`s the way the world sees him and that reflection he has internalized for himself. With the progress of the book we get to know much more of his diverse personality. He is a very whole-hearted character, later in the prose diving deep about sexual frustration, shame and fear - which in itself he views as something shameful. The younger Koubek experiences the crisis of manhood- something his brother doesn't seem to contemplate that much. He asks the question - what's a man made of? I found his animal love a sign of such high empathy that came from such high sadness and pain. People in his life seem to infatalize him to an uncomfortable point. He is afraid of the way the world views him, unsure of his actions, full of fears, deep guilt and shame, but at the same time- so impeccably brave. In their relationships- Margaret and Ivan`s, the position of power is turned upside down. Margaret is the older one, the experienced one, the divorced one, the concerned one. Ivan is absolutely confident in his love and affection towards her, does not pay thought to the nuances that people come up with, that people complicate life with. Margaret is also the only woman`s POV we get in Intermezzo. She is self-critical, divorced from her alcoholic husband who still seems to cause the trouble of people's interest in her  life. Her battle with people-pleasing, caregiving and sacrifice is soon engulfed by Ivan`s presence in her life. He is responsible, loyal to duty, to even wife and kids one day. She is concerned with the way people view her, her decisions, her unexpected change in way of life. 

I found Margaret my favourite. Her exhausting devotion to people, her strict manner in which she puts so much care, her skirts and soft shirts. Their relationship has troubles, but much less compared to the Naomi-Peter-Sylviya situation. That's because Ivan was willing to grow up, to talk, to be vulnerable and break out of the childlike shell that so many around him have been keeping him locked in. Peter, so caught up in always having been the responsible one, the mature one - now has grown into a tall child.

   Grief is constantly lingering in this book, it creeps on you when you least expect it - just like in our world. I found Intermezzo a great book about grief mainly because it shows life after ‘it’ - after the big crash, the funerals, the family gatherings. Death in itself is just a blink and grief is what we fight off every day - an evil enemy we never expect to be behind our back, an enemy that is in our shadow, in our head. Ivan and Peter have  very different ways of navigating life after the passing of their father. Throughout the whole novel they are waltzing and interchanging their societal roles, their opinions, hopes, dreams and regrets. But they both long for their father's approval, appreciation, and love. While Peter drinks himself asleep and throats down pills, Ivan takes risks, embraces change. That's something completely unlikely for both brothers, something challenging for each of them.  

   Sex and desire are aspects I found so much interest in while reading Intermezzo. Intimacy talked for everything characters couldn't. For Peter and Naomi it gave us insight into their relationship of power, domination, and desire just as I mentioned earlier. His fantasies of ‘doing whatever he wants’ with her, being rough with the girl, all while keeping her financially dependent and needy, so as for him to be needed and furthermore- to be cared for himself. In Margaret and Ivan's sex we as readers could feel romance. Thrill of the new - both for her and him. There for sure was a more romantic element in their intimacy than in Ivan's brother's. Their connection was something very sacred, in a way much more cherished (or so I felt). The scene of Ivan finishing inside her, it really felt intentional and purposeful.  Maybe for him to start giving, creating in a way, and for her- to finally receive and embrace on the journey of life.

 All these characters interact with each other in a chaotic, hypnotic and in that way natural manner. They teach us the importance of change, vulnerability, knowledge, maturity. Intermezzo was really one harmonious spectacle that celebrated life- in the complicated way, in the way of death, grief, rebirth and love.

________ thank you all for reading, hoping to hear some of your thoughts on this incredible piece of Rooney’s. please excuse any grammatical or stylistic errors i may have made- I'm just starting to explore writing essays in english, having it not be my first language. feel free to speak your mind.

[3ris-d1st0rtionnn]

StoLE tHiS fILe FroM THe aRcHivES… dON’t TeLL @speyeralling-down-thy-majesty , bUt i JuST WantEd a LittLE MemENtO oF ThEsE EvENtS… eVEn ThouGh tHeY’Re StiLL iN My HaLLwaYs SomeWhErE :)

Statement of Jade Connor, regarding a strange theme park attraction. Recorded by [REDACTED], head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.

I don’t even know why I decided to send this your way. I know you won’t believe me, nobody does, I just… I need to feel sane for once after last week.

It was last Saturday, if I’m remembering right. I had taken my friend Emma out for a day at this small theme park at the edge of town. Emma Davis… That was her full name. I have to keep reminding myself.

The park was really nothing special, just a small place with a few standard carnival rides and food stands. In all honesty, we were just coming up on finals at university and needed to relieve the pressure with some mindless entertainment, but I had a sort of nostalgia for that park. I had been going there since I was around 8 years old, so I know the place like the back of my hand… It’s no wonder that I picked the new building out so easily.

It looked a bit like one of those old “ghost train” rides, but none of it was visible from the outside. The building was just a small, weathered black box with faded murals painted on the front that I couldn’t make out at all; if I looked closely, I could have sworn I saw the remnants of painted faces, but the paint had streaked and bled too badly to see any details. The only legible text was the word “FUN” in pink and green block letters above the singular entrance door. No information, no name, just “fun.” That should have been my cue to stay away, paired with the sense of paranoia I felt just seeing that damn building, but Emma was already heading in by the time I noticed, shouting her usual lighthearted mockery of me being “too scared.”

I can’t explain how, but I knew I couldn’t let her go in there alone.

The interior of the building was… strange. It definitely wasn’t a dark ride like I expected, more like some kind of funhouse. The entrance led us into a dimly-lit hallway; the walls, ceiling, and floor were all painted black, but it looked… unnaturally dark, as if we were standing in an endless void. A series of doors were painted on the walls, each one skewed oddly in perspective and painted in neon colors so bright, they hurt my eyes to look at too long. I could have sworn there were ultraviolet bulbs set up somewhere, but I couldn’t see any visible light fixtures… or anything, for that matter. No fire sprinklers, no exit signs, no electrical panels… Nothing.

I don’t know how long I was lost in my thoughts. My mind was screaming at me to turn around and leave, that something just wasn’t right here, but I was forced back to my senses by a low creaking sound. One of those doors, the ones that couldn’t possibly be real… somehow opened. It had been replaced by an opening in the wall that looked like it had always been there, with no trace of the door itself to be seen. I could hear Emma’s voice laughing in the distance, calling for me to “find her” and “catch up” before blending in with a cacophony of indistinct background music.

All I could do was run after her.

The hallway opened up into… I can’t even say if it was a room, a hall, or something completely different. It looked like the interior of a dark ride with no track, just a winding path surrounded by these strange props and cutouts, each one painted in those same, blinding neon shades. None of them looked like they were supposed to be animated, but I could have sworn I saw them moving from my peripheral vision. Everything around me was just… constantly shifting and changing, even the path itself was winding off into oblivion. And the music… That damn music. It sounded like 5 tracks of frantic cartoon music looping over each other. I couldn’t make out any words, any instruments, whether there were actual voices or if it was all an instrumental, but I felt like there was something in there, like a message I was supposed to understand. Did I hear Emma’s voice up ahead, or was it part of the audio? There was no way I could tell, but I could have sworn I heard her laughing.

I had to have been walking for hours, maybe even days. My ears were ringing, panic building up in my chest as I broke into a run, screaming out Emma’s name, struggling to navigate this deteriorating maze of lights and colors. The walls had faces. The props were pointing at me and laughing. The path was narrowing, trailing off into oblivion and herding me in one direction until… Until I reached the room. Until I saw it.

It was a small room, completely filled with doors. They were all stacked on top of each other, defying logic and space, the walls extending upward infinitely like some twisted rabbit hole I was at the bottom of. I somehow knew not to touch them, that they wouldn’t let me leave yet. And in the center of it all… God, I can’t describe the thing.

It was twice my height, this… complete mockery of a person. Its arms were far too long, allowing its clawed, twisted hands to scrape the floor as if they’d been dislocated from their sockets. The thing smiled, the corners of its mouth extending past its face, exposing what had to be around 7 rows of teeth. Its eyes constantly shifted in color, spiraling voids that pierced right through me. It said nothing at first, but I could hear the audible snap of its neck as it tilted at a painful angle, motioning toward one of the doors nearby.

Just past that door, I could hear Emma’s voice. I couldn’t tell if she was laughing hysterically or screaming, but the sound was… completely unnatural, a noise that came from the very depths of insanity.

“Don’t worry, she’s having fun.”

The thing’s voice felt like broken glass scraping my brain, like a voicebox that was nearly out of battery. My head pulsed with pain, a primal instinct of panic overwhelming my body.

The next thing I knew, I was sprinting down another hallway. My vision was fading in and out, the ear-bleeding soundtrack returning to laugh at me as that figure blinked in and out of my peripheral vision, always behind me as if it knew I wouldn’t get anywhere. The last thing I remember was dropping to my knees, my nails sinking into my arms as I screamed, and…

..and then I was back outside. The second my eyes snapped open, I was lying on the pavement, surrounded by concerned onlookers and emergency personnel. I can barely remember what they claimed had happened, something about a “spontaneous breakdown” leading to me collapsing.

It had only been two minutes since I apparently “broke down.” The building was nowhere to be seen.

Asking about Emma led to the same response of concern… There were no records of her ever entering the park. There were no records of her anywhere; trust me, I checked. Not in the contacts on my phone, not online, nowhere. It’s like she was just… erased as soon as that thing took her.

I haven’t left my home since then. I can still hear that damn music looping in my ears, I can see that thing in the corner of my eye… It’s only a matter of time before it comes for me next, and I know it won’t let me go this time.

Statement ends. A follow-up has been requested, but we can find no records of a “Jade Connor” or their contact information in our databases, except for this transcript.

[z0mbride]

ALSO I have to rant about a proselytizing nurse at work today

TO CLARIFY THIS CONVERSATION STARTED BECAUSE we were talking about knitting and crochet and I said one of my favorite memories as a kid was getting a handmade hat every year from the old ladies at church and he asked why I didn’t go to church anymore and wouldn’t accept my answer that emotionally, church has always been the equivalent for me of a book club or scrabble. Like yeah I’d love to go and I’d love to work on this together but im not emotionally invested in anything other than intellectual bonding and social connection.

But what really frustrates me is like people NOT getting it and refusing to even try but they want me to get them and I need to be just like them but they won’t even acknowledge my feelings on something.

Like this nurse was 45 and hounding me about why I didn’t go to church in front of a bunch of other staff, insistent that I must have a deeper meaning than just being indifferent to it, and it made EVERYONE uncomfortable. He has had this issue before too. And im trying to be nice and being like “yknow it’s really not due to anything other than. I’m like not worried about it man”

And it just blows my mind how that response infuriates people trying to convert you even more than a reason of hatred could. Like no, I don’t have a problem with it actually. I just really don’t care. I have no interest right now in finding out if there’s a larger being. I’m just not even worried about it. I’m spiritual in my own way but as of right now, it’s not revolved around a greater being and im perfectly fine with that.

And it’s not that im disinterested in religion, like i love to study it and talk about it and learn from different perspectives, but right now I am currently so unattached from the idea of even CARING if there’s a greater being or an afterlife. I was like yeah tbh I think that Jesus, regardless of whether or not he was real or a messiah, is a great role model when you analyze him. I really admire what he did in the book, props to him! I can see why people follow in his lead.

And he asked me if I would read the gospels with him and I was like yknow what I actually would love to talk about the philosophy with you and he’s like “no like I mean you should pray before and read a chapter every day and open your heart to God” and it was just so weird to me because I feel like he’s not getting it.

I’ve done it before (and to put it how I did to another staff member: “I tried calling but nobody ever answers, I swear”), it just doesn’t happen for me! And it’s not that I don’t believe in anything, in all honesty it makes sense to me that there’s something bigger, but I just am not worried about it, and this man could not process the thought that I am just simply unbothered. If it happens it happens.

I was talking about it to my fiance and I think that tbh this non-attachment to like reveling over this idea actually makes me a better person than if me (only myself personally) was dedicated to a single faith. I’m really empathetic with people of every faith and will talk about any religious text and am a lot more well-versed in a variety of faiths than most people think, and so being unbiased about it (other than I find abrahamic adjacent humor more funny because it’s applicable to the culture I live in) kind of has shaped me to be who I am.

Like I mean yeah probably there is some greater being but like so???? And not in a pessimistic way. I’m just okay about it.im okay with there being one and with there not being one but unless it became a compelling issue in my life, im not out here pursuing greater answers right now. Like I have acknowledged this fact but also acknowledged that im not concerned with learning more about it rn. If it reveals itself to me then okay, but you’re not understanding my “if it happens it happens” or “im living my life like water” approach by trying to force it down my throat. Like just go with the flow man ❤️

idk I guess my insanely bland view on it really irked this man because he was convinced he was going to convert me. Like yeah I will earnestly try what you said but I wish you weren’t so like freaky and pushy about it because I guarantee that if I wasn’t interested in this stuff like I was, you would’ve scared me even further away. If I am convinced by this process, then that’s all the better to me and im sure it will enrich my life in one way or another, but also stop being weird to people. Ultimately I think it’s just a difference in values. I’m not concerned about my afterlife because and not out of a greater worry like bills or anything, I just never have been. I’ve always been more concerned about being a well rounded and compassionate person with a commitment to serving other people and frankly in a way I think that would honestly make me more aligned with a by-the-Gospel person than someone stressing about making it to heaven. Obviously that’s not including the bits of terrorism used in the Bible, but you get what I mean. I think by the book Jesus would get me more than hyper-religious people insisting something is wrong with me. LIKE WHY DO YOU CARE! Why am *I* the one trying to go help a dying old man and *you* are the one trying to get me to listen to your opinion!!!! What happened to what would Jesus do!!!

[jenyifer]

Boston+Boeing= Chaos(and a sad Top)

It’s the last night before Only Friends Finale and Jenny is serving up some ol’ fashion brain soup. Come get it chaos lovers I’m going to talk about Boeing for the first time because he is entering the BostonNickverse so… I watched his scenes 3 times and have a working theory on his motivations. But as always let’s use Boston to Compare Contrast.

Both Boeing and Boston are incredibly sexy on their own and they both use that to their advantage because no one expects them to be so cunning they can be. They are used to reading people to become what they need. They are self assured that they will get whatever prey they desire so confidence radiates from both of them. Boeing uses lies of comfort with a friendly smile and willing to listening ear to get his prey where he wants. Boston on the other hand uses honesty bravado to shock his prey into whatever he needs.

Both men schemed to break apart TopMew while the couple wasn’t dating but in a vulnerable position. Both of them exploited Top’s weaknesses not because either one loved Top but to fulfill their own self absorbed reason for Top to Break Things off with Mew. Boston wanted to break things up for his friend because TopMew was messing with their friendship dynamic and on a selfish level Boston wanted to prove he was better than Mew multiplied by his growing feelings for Nick. He NEEDED to prove to top and himself Boston is the best. Boeing wanted to punish Top for breaking up with him after 3 months. I believe he did love Sand at some point. I’m inferring this from Boeings career as a flight attendant that he wanted to travel the world and bring Sand with him. Intertwining your long term goals with someone shows scars and I think you can see them in Sand’s Dream and Boeing’s career. So Boeing made a sacrifice to date Top thinking it would be a better dream someone rich and going places. Boeing won’t have to wait to complete his dream. But Top broke things off with him after 3 months. From a pride stand point Boeing couldn’t let Top get into a more serious relationship because it looks bad on Boeing he couldn’t keep Top when Mew could.

The main difference between Boston and Boeing when it came to attacking TopMew is Boston did want to keep Mew out of his scheming because he loved Mew as a brother. Boeing wasn’t going to let anyone keep him back from ruining Top’s little dream of love because Top stole Boeing from Sand which is in his head all Top’s fault. So seducing Mew meant nothing to Boeing it was just a way to get more cracks in the relationship hopefully breaking them apart forever. In Contrast Boston kept his scheming to Top. He didn’t try to meddle directly with mew because he wanted to maintain their friendship. Boston yells at Nick “NO ONE WAS SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT ME AND TOP.” And he tells Ray he’d be disgusting to expose TopBoston to Mew. Boston didn’t want to hurt Mew. Boston wanted Top to be Jealous of Ray and be seduced by Boston and end things with Mew. Boston did give up after Top accused him of hating Mew or having animosity towards mew. I think that out what Boston was doing into perspective. He was crossing lines he shouldn’t. Boston decides after this to try to calm things down.

I think both failures to break up TopMew put things into perspective for Boston and Boeing. Boeing was reminded of his relationship with Sand and tried to repair it. Boston tried to settle down a bit and stop focusing on his friends. He didn’t need to meddle with them he was just getting in trouble.

Prediction time: I think Boston was the first guy Top slept with after Boeing. Boeing will happen to see Boston at the bar on the day of or day before the phone repair maybe Boeing will say something revealing about Mew or Ray and Boston will fight back for them. Either Bostons phone screen gets smashed during this OR Boeing after getting angry at whatever Boston will say will forward Atom’s expose account to the university and maybe send it around the big social circles so Boston is taken down a notch or two.