#i have a love hate relationship with that scene

[nhlclover]

ALL'S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR QUINN HUGHES

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader, (little bit of) jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: trevor invites you to a lakehouse for the summer, attempting to set him up with his friend. however, the summer doesn't go to plan when you meet his older brother who captures your eye and flips everything upside down.

warnings: very obviously angst, sort of a love triangle, jack and quinn kind of hating each other, slow burn, reader and trevor having a sibling type relationship, one singular kiss, brief appearances from trevor & luke

word count: 11.6k

notes: wooooo mama this is the absolute longest thing i've ever written. i really hope you guys enjoy it, i'm pretty happy with this.

The scene of the lake house standing tall in front of you was something straight out of your imagination. It was picturesque, the way the large house was nestled amongst the pine trees and the glimmering water sparkling behind it. It was just the way that Trevor had described it when he invited (or rather insisted) you to come to his buddy’s lake house this summer.

“You’ll love it! It’s so nice up there,” Trevor had urged, his enthusiasm infectious. You could still hear his voice, brimming with excitement. “It’s my friend Jack’s place. You guys would get along great! And his brothers are super chill too.”

At the time, you’d felt a mix of curiosity and skepticism. It’d been about three years you’d been friends with Trevor, long enough to know that when his tone got this excited and he was this insistent, he was up to something.

“Are you trying to set me up with him?” you’d asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Trevor as the two of you sat in a coffee shop a few months ago. He had been uncharacteristically fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down while stirring his iced coffee with an unnecessary amount of focus.

Trevor had grinned at you in that annoyingly charming way he did when he was caught. “Nooo, I’m just saying you guys would vibe. He’s a cool guy. Super chill.”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “Uh-huh. And his brothers?”

“Also cool!” Trevor leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But listen, Jack’s the one I think you’d really like. Just come for like, a week or two, see what happens. No pressure. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You’d hesitated, not entirely convinced. But Trevor knew exactly how to play on your curiosity, and a month later, you found yourself packing a bag for a summer getaway at some lake house owned by Trevor’s friend, Jack. Despite your reservations, a part of you was intrigued. What if Trevor was right?

The drive to the lake house had been a blur, punctuated by Trevor’s nonstop chatter and your own uncertain silence. You weren’t opposed to meeting Jack. Trevor had sung his praises for months, claiming you two had more in common than either of you realized. As far as setups went, this wasn’t terrible — you could trust Trevor to have good judgment. But still, you were unsure and slightly uneasy about the whole situation.

When you arrive, Jack is already waiting outside, leaning against the porch rail, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. He’s smiling — an easy, laid-back smile that makes you smile back automatically. The sun filters through the trees, casting warm, gold light on the porch, and for a moment, everything feels serene.

Trevor wasn’t lying when he commented about Jack’s appearance. “Some people call him a pretty boy but… I mean he is pretty, but he’s a good-looking dude, y’know?” He was definitely attractive, something anyone could admit you thought, but he wasn’t totally your type.

Trevor bounds up the steps of the porch, dapping up Jack and pulling him in for a hug. You followed, stopping at the bottom of the steps, watching as Trevor whispered something into Jack's ear, Jack’s eyes catching yours as a small smile appeared on his lips.

Jack steps forward, extending a hand. “Hey, you must be y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, his voice warm with that relaxed confidence you’d expect from someone who’s used to being the center of attention.

You shake his hand, feeling the easy smile on your face widen a little. “All good things, I hope.”

Trevor laughs, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Mostly good things.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

Jack offers to give you a quick tour of the place, and you agree, letting him guide you inside while Trevor stays back, grumbling to himself about having to bring in your bags. The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside, with high ceilings, wooden beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the lake. Despite being a new build, it has a cozy, rustic feel to it. Jack pointed out each room as you went, keeping up a steady flow of conversation that put you at ease. He was friendly and thoughtful, making sure you felt welcomed, and it struck you as genuine. You could see why Trevor thought you’d get along with him.

“And this is the back deck,” Jack said as he pushed open a sliding door, revealing a sprawling view of the lake, with a dock stretching out in front of the property. The lake is glittering and relatively calm, aside from a figure disturbing the water. You squint, watching as the swimmer glides smoothly through the lake.

“Who’s that?” you ask Jack, eyes not leaving the figure as you watch him pull himself up onto the wooden dock, pushing dark wet hair from his face.

“That’s Quinn,” Jack says, following your gaze and glancing out toward the dock. “My older brother.”

The sun seems to linger on Quinn’s form, highlighting the toned muscles in his arms as he stretches briefly, rolling his shoulders to ease out any lingering tension from his swim. Droplets of water cling to his skin, catching the sunlight and tracing down his chest in slow, winding trails emphasizing the smooth contours of his muscles as they glisten.

“Q!” Jack shouts, whistling to get his brother’s attention. Quinn’s gaze snaps to the two of you, your pulse quickening as his eyes land on you. “Come up here!”

Quinn grabs his towel from the dock, throwing it over his shoulder as he makes his way up the lawn towards you. As he climbs the steps to the deck, you feel his eyes travel over you, not in a way that feels intimidating, but with a curiosity that mirrors your own. There’s something magnetic about him, something calm and steady that draws you in as he steps up onto the deck, his mouth curving into a small, barely-there smile.

“This is Trevor’s friend, y/n. She’s joining us for the summer” Jack introduces.

As Quinn’s gaze flickers back to you, you notice there’s something about the way he looks at you — subtle, assessing. His gaze has a certain depth, a look you can’t quite decipher. It lingers just a second longer than what feels typical, enough to make your heartbeat skip, to leave you questioning the flicker of interest in his expression.

“Nice to meet you,” Quinn says, his voice low and smooth, a perfect complement to the quiet confidence he exudes. He reaches out to shake your hand, and as your fingers meet, you notice how warm his touch feels, even with the cool water droplets still lingering on his skin.

Up close, he’s even more striking. There’s a sort of ruggedness to him, outlined by the sharpness of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. His eyes, a greenish shade of blue, hold yours with a calm intensity that makes it hard to look away.

“Nice to meet you too,” you manage, your voice coming out softer than you intended, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You mentally kick yourself, hoping he doesn’t notice, but the glimmer in his eyes suggests otherwise.

Jack, oblivious to the undercurrent, clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Alright, well, there’s more to see, and if we don’t get back, Trevor’s going to start whining about being abandoned,” he joked.

You chuckle, your eyes pulling away from Quinns’ for the first time since he joined you on the porch. But as you turned to follow Jack back inside, you couldn’t help but glance back at Quinn. He was still watching you, his expression softened just slightly, and you felt a quiet thrill at the way he watched you.

The first week at the lakehouse passes in a flurry of days that blur together in laughter and lakeside relaxation. You fall into an easy routine of swimming, grilling, and long talks on the deck. Jack and Trevor keep things lively, always organizing something, whether it’s an impromptu game of cornhole, a daring cliff dive, or a spontaneous trip into town.

With Jack, the connection forms fast. He’s lighthearted, quick with a joke, and endlessly charming. He keeps you laughing and keeps the vibe lighthearted. His energy is infectious, and he keeps you roped into every activity, whether it’s cliff-jumping or getting you to help him with dinner when it’s his turn. You can tell that Trevor’s plan to get the two of you set up is working for Jack, as he lingers closer, laughs harder at your jokes, and you begin to feel his gaze linger on you just a little too long.

But it’s Quinn who holds your attention in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Quinn is different from Jack in nearly every way. Where Jack is open and quick to draw you into his orbit, Quinn lingers on the edges, observing and listening. When he speaks, it’s with a low, steady voice that commands attention without trying. And unlike Jack’s energy, which feels like the buzz of the sun overhead, Quinn’s is deep and mysterious like the lake.

You find yourself gravitating toward him at every opportunity, captivated by the way he moves through the days with an unruffled calm. The nights at the lake house slip into an easy rhythm, with Quinn and you inevitably being the last ones awake as the both of you are night owls. Most nights, you find yourselves lingering on the porch, wrapped in the gentle hum of crickets and the low whisper of the lake. With the others upstairs, fast asleep, you and Quinn fall into intimate conversations, shared only between the two of you.

One night, you find yourselves tucked away on the porch, the air a little cooler than the other nights. You are curled up on a rocking chair, bundled up in a hoodie you’d borrowed from Jack. Quinn sat across from you, the beer he’d started during dinner going warm in his hand.

Quinn studies you, his eyes catching the faint glow of the porch light as he swirls his bottle absentmindedly. “So,” he begins, breaking the comfortable silence, “What’s California like?” He leans forward, genuinely interested, his voice carrying a warmth that makes you want to spill everything about life on the West Coast.

A soft smile creeps onto your face. “It’s… different from here,” you admit, glancing out at the lake where the moon dances on the still water. “It’s a bit fast-paced. And warm. Lots of sun, lots of people. But sometimes, it feels like everyone’s moving so quickly that you get lost in the crowd.”

Quinn nods, his eyes steady on you. “I get it. I feel the same way about Vancouver sometimes. Coming back here… it just reminds me that there's more than the noise and rush. There’s… balance out here.” He gestures out toward the lake, his voice contemplative. “Like all of this has a way of pulling you back to what matters.”

His words resonate deeply, and you find yourself nodding. “Exactly,” you murmur. “It’s like there’s space to breathe. And you notice things that usually get lost in all the… chaos.”

Quinn’s gaze lingers on you a moment longer, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you came. It’s been… good to have you here,” he says quietly, his eyes soft. “We don’t have other people up here often.”

Your heart pounds a little faster at the sincerity in his voice, and for a second, the rest of the world disappears. There’s only Quinn and the quiet lake, and the feeling that he understands you in a way you hadn't expected anyone to. You hold his gaze, feeling the electricity between you grow, filling the silence with something you can’t quite name.

But then, as if drawn back to reality, Quinn’s eyes shift, his expression subtly changing. “And Jack,” he says, almost as an afterthought. “He… really likes you, you know? He doesn’t say it, but I can tell.”

It feels like a splash of cold water. You break eye contact, pulling your hoodie closer around you, the warmth you felt moments ago dissipating. The weight of Jack’s interest hangs heavily between you and Quinn now, an undeniable reminder of the complicated line you’re toeing.

“Right, yeah…” you reply softly, looking down, your voice tinged with a mix of guilt and frustration. You hadn’t meant for this to get complicated, yet here you are, caught between two brothers who couldn’t be more different.

An uncomfortable silence settles over you both, thick and heavy. Quinn’s eyes linger on you, as if he’s about to say something more, but he holds back. His lips press into a thin line, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same conflict, the same confusion that’s twisting knots inside you.

You force yourself to look away, swallowing hard. “I think… I should probably head to bed,” you murmur, avoiding his gaze. You stand up, offering him a small, tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Goodnight, Quinn.”

Quinn nods, his expression unreadable as he watches you ebb towards the door. “Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though there’s a flicker of something in his gaze — disappointment, perhaps, or longing. You slip inside, leaving him on the porch, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back as you close the door.

In bed, you toss and turn, Quinn’s words and the feel of his gaze lingering with you. Your mind is a whirlwind, caught between the easy, carefree friendship that’s growing with Jack and the simmering tension you feel with Quinn. Jack is perfectly nice and, like Trevor told you, the two of you were getting along swimmingly.

But no matter how much you try, your thoughts always drift back to Quinn. There’s something undeniably different about him, something that makes it impossible to feel the same way about Jack, no matter how hard you try. Jack’s presence is light and friendly but with Quinn… it’s like there’s a hidden gravity pulling you toward him, a quiet understanding that lingers beneath the surface of every conversation. Every night on that porch, he’s become your anchor, drawing you into a world that feels more honest, more intimate.

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying the way he looked at you tonight — that almost undetectable spark that you’re sure you didn’t imagine. The way he listens to you, like every word matters, as he sees past the small talk and into the parts of you you rarely share. There’s no pretending with Quinn. And even though he’d mentioned Jack, it only made you realize how much more you’re drawn to Quinn. Jack might be developing feelings for you, but it’s Quinn who fills your thoughts, who leaves you breathless in a way you can’t ignore.

You pull the covers tighter around you, willing sleep to take you, but every thought seems to lead back to Quinn, to the way he made you feel seen, understood — even in silence.

The next morning, you do your best to shake off the lingering tension from the night before, determined to keep things light and normal. Under Jack’s enthusiastic suggestion, the group decides to spend the day out on the lake, hoping the sun and water will wash away any unease. It’s a sunny day, warm with a light breeze, and the water sparkles invitingly under the sunlight, making you think that everything might just go smoothly.

The boat is anchored in a calm spot on the lake and, despite the wonderful weather, there doesn’t seem to be another boat around. Trevor and Luke sit up in the bow, arguing about which mascot would win in a fight between Mr. Clean and Tony the Tiger.

Jack is quick to pull you into the action, handing you a beer from the cooler as he grins. “Alright,” he says, his smile as wide as the lake. “Are you ready for the full lake house experience? Because to really do that, you’ve got to jump off the boat at least once today.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you crack open the can. “I’m pretty sure you’re just making up rules to mess with me.”

He shrugs, a playful glint in his eye. “Maybe, but you have to do it anyway,” he shrugs.

Trevor chimes in, chuckling from his spot. “Jack’s right, y/n. First-time lake visitors have to jump. It’s tradition!”

You chuckle, your gaze drifting up to Jack as he stands in front of you. The sun shines directly behind him, casting him in a golden halo, the bright rays spilling around his frame in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. For a moment, you can see why anyone would fall for that charm. But even with this picture-perfect moment, you feel a pang of regret that you can’t feel more for him, because, somehow, your thoughts are pulled elsewhere and on someone else.

Jack’s laughter brings you back to the moment, and he leans a little closer. “Come on, we can make it a team effort. I mean, if you’re too nervous, I can just hold your hand.” His voice is playful, but there’s a hint of sincerity in his words, a hope that you’ll let him bridge the gap he’s trying so hard to close.

Your smile is genuine, but before you can respond, you hear Quinn's low chuckle from behind you. It’s soft, barely audible over the hum of the boat’s motor, but enough to pull your focus completely away from Jack. You glance back at Quinn who’s sat on the back bench, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, a flicker of something in his gaze as it bears down on the two of you.

Your attention is pulled back to Jack as he reaches for your hand in a gesture that feels both playful and pointed. “Come on, y/n, it’ll be an official initiation. We’ll jump together, yeah?”

Your gaze flickers between Jack’s outstretched hand and Quinn, who’s watching with an inscrutable expression, his eyes narrowed slightly as he leans back, crossing his arms. You can’t deny there’s an awkward tension here, a silent push-and-pull between the two brothers that seems to amplify whenever Quinn is nearby.

Swallowing the strange, charged feeling building between you all, you look back at Jack and nod, forcing a lighthearted smile as you stand up, pulling off the oversized t-shirt you wore as a coverup. You see Jack’s eyes scan your figure, hearing him gasp quietly. You blush, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, taking his hand. He grins in triumph, his fingers warm against yours as he helps you stand at the edge of the boat. He holds on a little tighter than necessary, and the flicker of anticipation in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ready?” Jack asks, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering a bit too long as he watches your expression. There’s a hopeful vulnerability in his face, a look that makes you hesitate for a moment. You don’t want to hurt him, but there’s a part of you that wishes he’d pull back, that he’d realize you’re not as invested in this connection as he is.

You manage a nod, hoping he doesn’t notice the small sigh you let slip. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He beams, counting down with a quiet “three… two… one!” before the two of you leap into the lake together, the cool water rushing up to meet you. When you surface, you’re greeted by Jack’s laughter as he splashes you, pulling you into a playful water fight. You laugh along, though your eyes instinctively drift toward the boat, where Quinn looks over the edge, watching you both with an unreadable expression.

Jack’s laughter fades slightly as he notices your attention elsewhere, his face falling for a fraction of a second. But he quickly masks it, pulling you back with a light splash. “Hey, stay with me here,” he says, his tone half-joking, half-pleading. And you want to, you really do, but Quinn’s gaze is magnetic, and you can’t help but feel pulled toward him, as if there’s an invisible thread between the two of you.

Eventually, Jack climbs back onto the boat, reaching out to help you up. But the moment you step back on board, the charged silence returns, thick and stifling, as Quinn hands you a towel, his fingers brushing against yours just long enough to send a spark up your arm. You catch his gaze for a brief second, and you’re struck by the quiet intensity in his eyes, a longing that mirrors your own.

Jack clears his throat, his shoulders tensing slightly as he glances between you and Quinn. He lets out a forced laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Alright, what’s next? We could always do another round of jumps, or maybe a swim to the dock?” He says it with an almost desperate cheerfulness, trying to regain your attention, trying to keep the moment light.

Trevor and Luke, sensing the tension, start bantering about who would be the fastest swimmer, their playful arguments distracting you all for a moment, lightening the mood just enough.

────୨ৎ────

The night air was crisp as laughter and the crackling of the fire filled the space around the lake house. The lake is quiet behind you, a dark, glassy surface reflecting only starlight. You were settled in a lawn chair, leaning back, watching as Trevor dramatically recounted a story about when you nearly crashed his car.

You could feel his eyes on you, searching for a shared smile, hoping to catch your gaze even as he chuckled at Trevor’s theatrics. Every so often, he'd lean in, commenting with a low murmur meant only for you. He’d even offered you his hoodie earlier, though the night wasn’t nearly cold enough to need it. It was endearing, if not a bit overeager. Yet, despite the obvious attention from him, your focus kept drifting across the fire.

Quinn sat across the flames from you, leaning back in an Adirondack chair. His attention was barely on the story, barely laughing with the others as you had been. Every now and then you’d catch his eyes flicker your way, lingering on you just long enough to send a thrill through your chest. Your stomach tightened with a quiet anticipation each time, though as quickly as the moment arrived, it vanished. Quinn’s gaze would shift, his attention lost somewhere in the darkness beyond the flames, leaving you wondering if you’d only imagined it.

As Trevor finally wrapped up his tale with an exaggerated flourish, the group’s laughter rang out again, filling the quiet night. You shifted in your chair, stealing a glance across the fire to see Quinn looking your way again, his expression unreadable in the dancing light. The firelight cast soft shadows over his face, illuminating his quiet intensity—a contrast to Jack’s open interest. And just as quickly as his eyes met yours, he looked away, his focus deliberately elsewhere, leaving you feeling a subtle ache of frustration.

Jack nudged your arm gently, his voice breaking the spell. “Hey, want to grab a drink or something? I think I saw some ciders in the cooler on the porch.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you replied, a small smile curving your lips as you pushed yourself up to join him.

You could feel the weight of Quinn’s gaze on you, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. As you walked toward the porch with Jack, a pang of prickling guilt settled over you, leaving a heavy shadow with every step. Jack was wonderful — funny, kind-hearted, and clearly eager to spend time with you. And yet, there was an emptiness in each smile you returned to him, a hollowness you couldn’t ignore. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself to appreciate his warmth and interest. But you couldn’t deny it. There was no spark, no unspoken gravity that pulled you toward him.

The two of you reached the porch, Jack handing you a cold can from the cooler, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He shot you a quick grin, the kind that seemed to hold a hundred different things he wanted to say. But the look in his eyes—the hopefulness, the eagerness—only tightened the knot in your chest.

Jack took a sip of his drink, leaning casually against the porch railing, his gaze still on you. “It’s nice here at night, isn’t it?” His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable softness to his voice, as though he wanted nothing more than to keep this moment between just the two of you.

“Yeah, it really is,” you agreed, looking out at the lake rather than meeting his eyes. “It’s peaceful.”

Jack’s voice was quieter when he spoke this time like he was mulling something over. “You know, it’s been great having you up here. I mean…I’m glad Z brought you here.” he said softly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a vulnerability there, one that made you want to reassure him, to ease the sting of your own uncertainty.

You wanted to tell him you felt the same, that you were excited, that his attention filled you with butterflies. But it didn’t. Not the way Quinn’s lingering gaze did, not in the way his silence could reach across the fire and wrap around you more tightly than any words Jack could offer.

And Jack could sense it. You could see it in the way his gaze fell just a bit, in the way he seemed to retreat into himself, trying to figure out where he’d lost you. A soft, sinking guilt bubbled up, but before you could say anything, he cleared his throat and looked at you, trying to keep the mood light.

“Should we head back?” he asked, giving you a small smile that tried to mask the disappointment behind his eyes.

You nodded, and as you followed him back toward the fire, your eyes drifted back to Quinn. Why did he have to make it so complicated? Jack was there, warm and steady, giving you his full attention, yet your heart kept tugging you toward Quinn — Quinn, who never gave you more than half-glances and unspoken hints. It was as though he knew the effect he had on you but chose to keep you guessing, leaving you in this restless, uncertain state. And every time he looked away, your chest would ache with a longing that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

You felt like you were making it up in your head. You felt like all of this was just concocted by your brain, a made-up situation. But then you’d think back to the nights when it was just the two of you, sitting across from one another on the porch, finding bits of commonality, causing you to talk for hours.

It was during those quiet nights, with only the soft hum of the lake and the occasional call of night birds, that the two of you would sit just a little closer, voices lowered as if sharing secrets with the stars. He’d be calm, reserved, but there’d always be a hint of a smile when you teased him about his stoic nature, a glint in his eyes when he’d challenge you back. It was in these moments that your doubts faded, that all the confusion seemed worth it.

But then the sun would rise again, and Quinn’s indifference would come back like the morning mist, blanketing any closeness you thought you’d found. The spark that seemed so real under the cover of night would dim, replaced by his guarded demeanor and quiet aloofness. It was maddening, this cycle of near-closeness followed by a cool retreat. He’d show you just enough to make you wonder, to keep you holding onto the memory of his quiet smile and that soft look in his eyes.

As you and Jack rejoined the group, you settled back into your chair, glancing across the fire toward Quinn once more. He was looking down, a hand idly fiddling with the edge of his sweater. There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something that made you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same hesitation and uncertainty. You wanted to bridge that gap, to ask him if he ever felt the same tug, the same strange pull that made every shared glance linger in your mind.

But before you could even entertain the idea, Jack’s hand brushed your shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. He was smiling, his gaze as steady and warm as ever, making you wish you could return it with the same openness.

“Hey, you okay?” Jack asked, concern lacing his voice. You hadn’t realized the way you were chewing on your lip, or the way your brow was furrowed ever so slightly.

You nodded, giving him a soft smile that you hoped looked genuine. “Yeah, just…lost in thought, I guess.”

But as you said it, your gaze slipped across the fire once more, finding Quinn’s eyes fixed on you with that familiar, unreadable intensity. And for a fleeting second, you thought you saw a softness there, a hint of something deeper. It vanished just as quickly, but that one look was enough. It was enough to make you cast away the doubt that lingered in your mind, to dismiss the thought that this was all in your head.

The night dragged on, punctuated by laughter and more ridiculous storytelling from Trevor. Gradually, one by one, everyone began to call it a night. Luke was the first to slip away, yawning as he muttered something about wanting to have an early workout, clapping Trevor on the shoulder before heading inside. Trevor followed soon after, stretching with exaggerated laziness before flashing a grin and winking at you. “Don’t get into too much trouble out here,” he teased, earning a playful eye-roll from you.

Finally, it was just you, Jack, and Quinn. Jack was lingering, his eyes occasionally drifting to you with a look that hinted at something he wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring himself to voice. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he looked at you, then glanced over at Quinn.

"Alright, I guess I’ll head in, too," Jack finally said, his tone reluctant. His gaze lingered on you for just a beat too long, as though he wanted you to ask him to stay or tell him that you would head up with him. But you didn’t, and after a quiet sigh, he nodded, gave Quinn a brief glance, then turned and headed inside, the screen door shutting softly behind him.

And then it was just the two of you.

The quiet stretched between you and Quinn, thick and tense, as the night air settled into a stillness that seemed to wrap around you both. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the trees, and it was painfully quiet, each unspoken word between you two heavy with meaning. You could feel his presence, magnetic and steady, even across the fire. Finally, after a moment that felt like an eternity, you drew a deep breath and decided to speak.

“Quinn, can we talk?” Your voice was steady, but just barely. Quinn’s eyes finally locked with yours for the first time since before everyone began to filter to bed. Quinn nodded after a couple of seconds, giving you the silence to continue.

��I don’t know what’s going on between us,” you said softly. “But… fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. I need to know if it’s all just in my head or if you feel it too. Because if there’s a reason I feel this way… I need to know.”

You trailed off, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words hung in the air between you. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression unreadable, his face softened by the glow of the firelight. Then, with a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared into the flames. His silence was torture, each passing second pulling you deeper into a pit of anxiety and frustration.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, as if he’d rehearsed this response in his mind countless times. “It’s not in your head,” he admitted, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. “There’s something here, between us. I feel it too.”

The words sent a rush of relief and hope through you, a spark that reignited all those moments spent wondering and waiting for some kind of sign. A soft smile spread across your face, the edges of your doubt finally beginning to soften. But then, his expression shifted, the corners of his mouth tightening as he looked away, eyes fixed on the shadows just beyond the firelight.

“But…” His voice was barely a whisper, rough around the edges. “It can’t go anywhere. Not with Jack. He’s…he’s into you.” He looked back at you, the regret in his eyes evident, a pain mirrored in your own chest. “I can’t do that to him.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, and the warmth of the fire suddenly felt distant, fading into a cold, empty ache spreading through your chest. You hadn’t expected it to hurt this much, hadn’t realized how much you’d been hoping he’d say the opposite, that he’d fight for whatever was happening between you.

You dropped your gaze, feeling foolish, vulnerable, exposed. “So that’s it? We just… pretend this doesn’t exist?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like nothing’s been happening all this time?”

Quinn’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his expression pained. “I don’t want to pretend. But I can’t… I won’t hurt him, not like that. He’s my brother.” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly. “And he really cares about you.”

You swallowed hard. It felt ridiculous—being here, feeling so foolishly hopeful, only to be left with a hollow ache and a fractured connection that couldn’t ever be more. Part of you wanted to yell at him for leading you on, for those late-night conversations and stolen glances, for every unspoken word that now felt like a cruel joke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish it could be different.”

The words left you hollow. Part of you wanted to fight, to tell him that what you felt couldn’t just be ignored, but another part — the part that knew him and understood his loyalty — couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to choose you over his brother. Not when you saw the conflict in his eyes, the pain that mirrored your own.

“Fine,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. You stood up, the cool night air prickling your skin as you walked away from the fire, leaving him there in silence. You didn’t look back. It felt like your chest was filled with broken glass, each breath painful, as you made your way back to the house.

Inside, the stillness was almost suffocating. The others had already gone to bed, and the darkened living room felt cold and empty, mirroring the ache in your heart. You climbed the stairs to your room, shutting the door softly behind you as you sank onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. A mix of anger and sadness filled you. You were mad at Quinn, for drawing you in only to push you away; mad at Jack, for being in the way even if he hadn’t meant to be; mad at Trevor, for ever convincing you to come here; and, perhaps most of all, mad at yourself, for letting your heart hope for something that could never be.

The next morning, a heavy quiet blanketed the lake house. You moved through the motions of breakfast with the others, but your thoughts felt distant, lost somewhere between the memories of last night and the weight of Quinn’s words. The morning was made slightly easier by the absence of Quinn who you were told went into the town early that morning to run errands and hit the gym. The guys bantered and talked about heading out on the boat, planning an afternoon on the lake, but you could only muster half-hearted nods and polite smiles. It was hard to focus, every small sound—the clinking of mugs, the soft scrape of a chair—only intensifying the ache you couldn’t shake.

Excusing yourself, you slipped away before anyone could ask questions, making your way down to the dock. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rippling across the lake's surface, and you sat at the edge, feet dangling above the water. You were still in your sleep outfit, not exactly pyjamas, but rather a comfy oversized hoodie and a pair of mens boxers. The familiar scent of pine and fresh earth surrounded you, but even the peaceful view couldn’t ease the storm of emotions inside.

The quiet was soon broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, and you didn’t need to look to know it was Jack. You felt him sit beside you, his presence warm and grounding. For a moment, he didn’t say anything — just let the silence settle between you both, as though he was waiting for you to be ready.

Finally, he cleared his throat, glancing sideways at you. “You okay this morning? You’ve been… quiet,” he said softly, his voice tentative, as if he were stepping carefully around broken glass. “Distant.”

You swallowed, bracing yourself as you met his gaze. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, a softness that only made this harder. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking back out at the lake. “Guess I just needed some space.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. His fingers drummed nervously on the edge of the dock, and after a beat, he spoke again, his tone thoughtful, almost nostalgic.

“You know,” he began, eyes cast down at the water, “when Trevor told me he was bringing a friend this summer, he was so sure we’d hit it off. He kept going on about how you and I would be perfect for each other, that we’d get along great.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I remember feeling this weird, excited energy like… maybe he was right, you know? Maybe I was going to meet someone special.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as he continued, his voice carrying a warmth that was both comforting and deeply bittersweet.

“And when you got here…” He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if to gauge your reaction. “I don’t know, it just… felt easy, from the start. Like we’d known each other forever. I started to feel like maybe Trevor had been onto something.” He gave a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of unspoken feelings.

“Things felt really good between us, and I thought you felt it too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I started to get my hopes up—thinking maybe this was the start of something real.”

You winced, guilt gnawing at you. “Jack… I’m so sorry,” you said, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, truly. I think you’re amazing. From the bottom of my heart, I just… I mean there’s gotta be some sort of spell this fucking house puts me under because I would be insane otherwise to not like you! You… you’re so perfect that any other girl would be scremaing at me, trying to claw my eyes out for not appreciating you. But… I just can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jack’s eyes softened, a mix of sadness and resignation settling in them. He looked down, his fingers still drumming but more slowly now, as if grounding himself. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“I get it,” he murmured, though his voice had an unmistakable crack in it. “I mean… I think I get it. You can’t force something that isn’t there, right?” He gave a sad smile, one that tried to mask the hurt but didn’t quite succeed.

He stared out at the water, his expression distant, like he was trying to piece together what had gone wrong, or maybe just what he’d missed. A tense silence settled between you, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on the air around you. Jack cleared his throat, seeming to steel himself, his gaze searching your face as if looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked.

“Can I… can I just ask you one thing?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. His vulnerability in that moment was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding, bracing yourself for what was coming.

You nodded, feeling your throat tighten.

“Do you… have feelings for Quinn?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and painful, and a part of you wished he hadn’t asked. But the look in his eyes told you he needed to know, that the uncertainty was gnawing at him just as much as the truth might.

Slowly, you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Yes.”

A heavy silence fell between you, and Jack seemed to shrink a little, his shoulders slumping as he took it in. Jack’s gaze fixed on the lake, and for a long moment, he said nothing. You could see the effort it took for him to keep his expression neutral, to keep his emotions tightly bound. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.

“So, you… you and Quinn. Is there… anything actually happening between you two?” He glanced at you, a flicker of something raw in his eyes — hope, maybe, or just the need to understand.

You shook your head, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “No, Jack. We’re… we’re not together. We won’t be.”

He looked at you, brow furrowed. “Why not?” he asked softly, his confusion obvious. “If you feel that way about him, why wouldn’t you try?”

You took a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “Because Quinn… Quinn’s too good of a brother. He’d never go for me because of you… and because of what he knows you feel.”

Jack blinked, his brow furrowing as he took in your words. “Wait—what does that mean? Because of me?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. His gaze softened, and you could see he was fighting to keep his tone steady, like he was trying not to hope.

You sighed, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. “Quinn told me he could never be with me because he knows how you feel. He doesn’t want to hurt you, Jack.”

Jack’s jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. “So… let me get this straight,” he muttered, almost incredulously. “He’s not doing anything about how he feels—because of me?”

You nodded, and Jack fell silent, staring down at his hands, which had stopped drumming and were now clenched tightly in his lap. He seemed deep in thought, his brows furrowed as he processed what you’d just told him. The lake was quiet around you, the stillness broken only by the occasional ripple of water.

For a long time, Jack didn't say anything, just stared down at the water, his brows drawn together. You could almost feel the weight of his thoughts, the way he was wrestling with everything that had just been laid out. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, raw.

“So he… he cares enough to stay away,” Jack said slowly, the words laced with a sadness that felt almost like admiration. “That's… just like him.” He took a deep breath, forcing a small, sad smile. “I wish things were different. I wish we could just rewind, go back to the start of summer and… and pretend this never happened.”

You swallowed hard, his words striking a chord deep within you. “Me too,” you whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I never wanted any of this to happen, Jack. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”

Jack looked over at you, his expression softening, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the easy, unburdened friendship you’d had in the beginning. “I know,” he murmured. “You’re not the kind of person who’d do this on purpose. It’s just… life, I guess. It’s complicated, ‘n messy as hell. And… maybe Trevor was right. We do get along. Just… maybe not in the way he thought we would.”

He smiled, a genuine one this time, though tinged with a sadness he couldn’t hide. “Maybe someday… I won’t feel this way,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the soft lapping of the lake against the dock. “But for now… I think I just need a little space. Time, maybe.”

You nodded, understanding that this was what he needed, even if it hurt to hear. “I get it, Jack. I do.”

Jack gave a nod, his gaze returning to the water, the weight of unspoken words settling over the two of you. In the next moment, he reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze—a quiet truce, an understanding. Then he stood, brushing off his shorts and glancing back at the house.

“I’ll be up at the house for a bit,” he murmured, the distance in his tone unmistakable. With that, he turned and walked back up the dock, his footsteps slow and heavy.

In the following days, there was a noticeable shift in the air; everyone felt it, though no one dared to name it. Conversations were stilted, laughter felt forced, and even the once-lively dinners had become quiet affairs, each of you treading carefully as if one wrong word might shatter the fragile peace that held you all together. Jack avoided you and Quinn as much as he could, lingering at the edge of group activities, his usual easygoing energy replaced by something more closed off, guarded.

Quinn, for his part, kept his distance too, his usual calm presence clouded by an unspoken tension. It was as if he knew that the delicate line he was walking might snap at any moment, sending everything spiraling out of control.

You couldn't ignore the heaviness that had settled over the house, a tangible sense of tension that made everything feel off-kilter. As much as you'd wanted this summer to be an escape, it had become the very opposite — a painful reminder of all the ways things could go wrong.

That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself wide awake, thoughts racing. The decision took shape slowly, a reluctant resolve that you couldn’t shake. You needed to leave. Staying here, caught between the fractured pieces of what had been and what could never be, was too much to bear. The thought of facing both brothers day after day, watching Jack’s guarded smiles and Quinn’s restrained distance—it was too much. They deserved space, and, you realized, so did you.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and booked a flight out for two days later, the earliest you could manage. You barely slept, running through potential conversations in your mind, eventually deciding you were only going to tell Trevor and slip out quietly, not wanting to cause anymore issues.

You forced yourself to push through the pain and awkwardness during the two remaining days until you would be returning back to California. As the days inched closer to your departure, the weight of unspoken words grew heavier, settling into every corner of the lake house. You caught glimpses of Jack, his face turning away when he thought no one was watching as if even looking at you and Quinn felt like reopening an unhealed wound. Quinn’s glances were no less fraught, though his were filled with a wistful restraint, as if he was already mourning the loss of something that had barely even begun.

The dinners, once filled with laughter, now passed in subdued tones, each person more focused on their plate than the conversation. You found yourself counting down the days and hours, conflicted between the need to escape the tension and the ache of leaving it all behind. In those last two days, you kept reminding yourself that soon, you’d be on a plane back to California, back to your own life — away from Jack’s pained looks and Quinn’s longing stares.

Your final day there, you packed your belongs up quickly, hoping Trevor would buy your excuse of not wanting to miss your flight as a good reason for him to take you to the airport early, and not because you couldn’t bear to spend one more hour in this suffocating oasis. Everyone else was lounging by the water, with the exception of Jack who lingered in the kitchen, opting to do the dishes rather than be around the others. He was lost in thought when he heard the patio door slide open and shut, the sound of bare feet padding against the hardwood. He turned to the entrance of the kitchen, seeing Quinn wearing his boardshorts and a slightly guarded look.

Quinn stopped at the threshold, eyes flicking briefly to Jack’s hands as he scrubbed the dishes. They were tense, knuckles white around the plate he held, and the silence between them was palpable and heavy. Jack set down the dish with a clatter, bracing himself on the edge of the sink, not looking at Quinn. Jack didn’t give Quinn time to speak. The words erupted from him, fueled by everything he’d been holding back.

“Do you even understand what you’re doing?” Jack’s voice was low and seething, barely contained. He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t dare let Quinn get a word in. “You’re hurting her, Quinn. A perfectly nice girl, who came here not looking for this mess but got dragged into it anyway. And the worst part is, you know it. You know it, and you’re still just… sitting back like a damn martyr, thinking that by staying distant, you’re somehow making it easier for everyone. That by holding back, you’re sparing her, sparing me.”

Jack’s words cut through the quiet, sharper than the silence that had settled in the house over the past days. The vulnerability in his tone was raw, scraping against Quinn’s stoic expression. Quinn shifted uncomfortably but didn’t interrupt; he only looked at Jack, his gaze unwavering.

“And you know what? I kind of hate you for it,” Jack continued, voice unsteady. He turned his head just enough for Quinn to catch the anger, the hurt in his eyes. “I hate that you waltzed in and just took her from me without even trying. And, yeah, maybe that’s selfish. Maybe I never really had a chance, but she was still there, and I was trying. I was there, damn it!”

Quinn finally took a step forward, but Jack cut him off again, his hands clenching at the counter. “And I hate you for pretending like you’re doing the right thing by telling her nothing will happen. You act like you’re some noble saint by ‘staying away,’ but it’s a lie, Quinn. It’s a lie, and we both know it. You’re holding back because you’re scared — scared to go after what you really want, and in the end, you’re just making it worse for everyone. For her. For me.”

Jack’s voice wavered, then cracked, as he finally fell silent, chest heaving from the force of his confession. The words had cost him, as if each syllable had drawn blood. The only sound in the room was the dripping of the faucet, each drop amplifying the tension between them.

Quinn stayed quiet for a long moment, his gaze steady as he absorbed every word. He studied Jack, weighing something unspoken. “Would you hate me if I went for her, then?” His tone was gentle, almost hesitant, a softness that Jack hadn’t been prepared for.

Jack’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I probably would.” He ran a hand through his hair, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I mean I hate you right now for making her feel the way she does. But it shouldn’t matter, Quinn. Not if you two… if you actually care about each other.” Jack’s voice faltered, breaking under the weight of his own honesty. “Look, I’ll get over it. In time. But don’t waste what could be something good just because you’re trying to spare everyone. It’s pointless, and it’s selfish. You need to get to her before it’s too late.”

Quinn could feel Jack’s anger and pain, an emotion so raw and tangled it clawed at the air between them. For a second, Quinn thought of how different things could have been if he had stayed on the sidelines, if he hadn’t let himself get close to you. But as Jack’s gaze softened, an odd understanding settled between them. Jack wasn’t letting go easily, but he was letting go.

Jack’s shoulders slumped, exhausted, as he ran a hand over his face. “She’s leaving today, you know?” he said to Quinn, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Trev told me last night she booked her flight out for this afternoon.”

Quinn’s face fell, and the guarded look faded, replaced with something dangerously close to panic. He hadn’t known—hadn’t expected that this was it. That today was the end.

“She’s leaving?” Quinn asked, Jack nodding. “Why didn’t she say anything? W-why is she leaving?”

“Because why would she stay?” Jack said. “She’s going to protect herself. She’s not gonna stay here, hoping for something that won’t happen. She’s too smart for that.”

The realization struck Quinn like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless. Jack's words echoed in his mind, each one sharper than the last. She’s leaving. Of course, she would. She wasn’t the type to hang around hoping for some half-hearted promise or for Quinn to finally decide what he wanted. She deserved so much more than waiting for him to get his act together.

Jack's voice softened, pulling him back to the present. "Quinn, it’s not too late. She hasn’t left yet. If you really care about her, don’t let her go like this."

Quinn’s gaze faltered, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his expression. Could he really undo the damage he’d done by staying away? Could he find the words to convince her that, despite his silence, he’d felt everything just as deeply as she had?

A heavy silence followed before Quinn found his voice. “What… what should I say to her?”

Jack shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You really think I’m giving you advice on how to get the girl I wanted?”

Quinn’s face softened in a rare, grateful smile. “Fair enough.” He hesitated, then turned, steeling himself as he left the kitchen, leaving Jack to his own fractured thoughts.

Quinn climbed the stairs two at a time, his pulse racing with every step, anticipation and fear warring within him. As he reached the top, he saw Trevor just exiting your room. Trevor paused, giving Quinn a look that held no small amount of concern.

“I don’t know what went down between you three,” Trevor said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I care about her, and I don’t like seeing her like this. You going to fix whatever mess this is?”

Quinn’s chest tightened. He knew Trevor had been close to you, learning this summer just how much of a big brother figure he was to you. He couldn’t fault him for looking out for you.

“I’m going to fix it,” Quinn said, his voice quiet but firm. He met Trevor’s gaze, hoping to communicate the sincerity in his words. “I have to.”

Trevor didn’t say anything else, but he gave Quinn a long, steady look, as though weighing whether to believe him. Then he gave a nod and shifted your duffle bag, stepping aside to let Quinn pass. With a final glance at Trevor, Quinn walked to your door, his heart racing. Quinn stood outside your door for a moment, his hand hovering above the doorknob. He knew what he needed to say, but a part of him feared that the damage was already done. Bracing himself, he knocked gently before pushing the door open.

You were standing by the window, your zipped duffle bag sitting on your bed. Your back was to the door when Quinn entered, and for a moment, he almost turned around, the words caught in his throat. But then you turned, your eyes meeting his.

“Are you really going?” Quinn asked, his voice quiet and strained.

You nodded, stepping away from the window and closer to Quinn. “I think it’s best. This whole summer has just… it’s too much, Quinn. I didn’t come here expecting any of this, and now I just feel… caught. And I can’t keep feeling this way.”

Quinn swallowed, his gaze never leaving yours. He looked as though he was battling something heavy, words lingering on his lips, waiting to escape. He stepped forward, close enough that you could see the faint circles under his eyes, the fatigue that seemed to pull at his features.

“I didn’t expect any of this either,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And I get it — you’re right. I hurt you. I know that. I thought… I thought if I kept my distance, it would somehow make it easier for everyone. That maybe you'd move on from this — move on from me, and be with Jack. I thought it would hurt less.”

You held his gaze, your voice low but unwavering. “Do you have any idea what that did to me, Quinn? All summer, feeling this… this connection between us, and thinking that I had to be imagining it because you couldn’t even look at me. And you’re saying you did that on purpose? To protect me?” Your voice trembled. “That’s not protecting me. That’s running away.”

Quinn took a shaky breath, stepping closer, his expression taut with regret. “I know I messed up. I was spineless and I should have told you the truth sooner.” Quinn said, bowing his head briefly before forcing himself to look up at your hurt eyes. “I told myself that it was better this way, but all I was doing was lying to myself. Because every time I saw you… every time I heard your laugh, or watched you talk to Jack, or caught you looking at me — I couldn’t breathe.”

Quinn took one last step forward, less than a foot away from you. He raised his hand to reach you, fingertips grazing your arm gently, as if he feared you might pull away. “But I care about you, more than I thought possible. And I was afraid of that. Afraid of hurting Jack, afraid of hurting you… and afraid of wanting you this much.” He swallowed, his voice growing rough. “But I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel. I want to be with you I — I need to be with you.”

Your breath hitched, the confession settling over you like a warm, crushing weight. This was what you’d wanted, but it also brought a whirlwind of conflicting emotions crashing down. You took a small step back, just enough to put some distance between you, needing space to gather your thoughts.

Quinn was saying everything you wanted to hear from the beginning. Laying his feelings bare, and exposing his heart in a way you hadn't expected from someone as reserved as him. It was like seeing a hidden part of him, one he’d kept carefully guarded. The vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that this was as terrifying for him as it was thrilling for you.

But in the back of your mind, Jack lingered, his hurt and disappointment woven into every stolen glance and quiet moment of the summer. The image of his face as he realized how you felt about Quinn was something you couldn’t shake. The memory clawed at you, guilt mixing with the longing Quinn’s words evoked.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” you said, voice catching. “But Quinn… Jack — he tried so hard with me this summer, and I couldn’t give him what he wanted because of… well, because of you.” You hesitated, torn between the longing in Quinn’s eyes and the memory of Jack’s earnest, hopeful glances. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt him. And I feel like I’ve done enough damage by just… being here.”

Quinn’s gaze softened, his hand lingering just above your arm, hovering close as if he wasn’t ready to let you go. “I know,” he murmured. “I know it’s complicated. But I talked to Jack this morning. He told me… he told me to come up here and talk to you. To tell you how I felt. He wants you to be happy, and he knows that’s not with him. He’ll get over it.”

“Jack said that?” you whispered, barely able to believe it.

Quinn nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips, though there was sadness in his eyes. “He might hate me for a while, and I can live with that. But he said I’d regret it if I let you go. And… he was right.”

His hand, warm and steady, traced down your arm, his fingers slipping around yours with a gentle firmness. The touch, gentle but insistent, sent a jolt through you. “I know I’ve messed up,” he murmured, voice barely a whisper. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll make it right. I want this, us… if you do too.”

You nodded, words escaping you as Quinn stepped even closer, his free hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you could feel the slight tremor in his touch. He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you didn’t.

His lips barely brushed yours, soft and tentative. Your breath mingled together briefly before your lips locked together. He lingered for a heartbeat, savoring the closeness as if he, too, couldn’t believe this was real. Then, with a surge of emotion, the kiss deepened, all the restraint and hesitation of the summer dissolving as his hand rose to cradle your cheek, holding you to him as though afraid you might disappear.

His stubble that had grown out over the last couple weeks of summer scraped along your jaw and chin, leaving a faint burn that only added to the rush of sensation.

When you pulled back, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day you got here,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice.

You giggled, staying close and feeling his heartbeat echoing against yours. The silence that followed was thick, but it was different now — no longer tense or uncertain like it had been for most of the summer. It felt as though the weight had been lifted from both of your shoulders.

But even in that moment, you knew the reality of what this would mean—for Jack, for Quinn, and for yourself. There was a part of you that still ached, remembering Jack’s quiet disappointment and knowing it would take time to heal the wounds this summer had left behind.

You swallowed hard, raising a hand to Quinns face and brushing aside his dark locks that fell over his eyes. “I still think I need to go,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not because I don’t want this. I do. But I think both of you need time, and maybe I do too. To let everything settle.”

Quinn nodded, understanding settling over his expression. “I get it,” he replied, taking your hand in his and giving your palm a soft kiss. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

Quinn let you slip from his arms, his heart squeezing as he watched you grab your bag and exit the room. As you descended the stairs with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, you saw Jack waiting near the door. His expression softened as you approached, a bittersweet smile crossing his face.

“So, this is it?” he asked, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of acceptance.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s best. Thank you, Jack. For understanding. And… for everything.”

Jack gave a short nod, his gaze momentarily flickering towards the stairs where Quinn had stopped to watch from a distance. He returned his gaze to you and managed a small, sincere smile. “Go live your life. I wish you and Quinn all the best.”

You hugged him, both of you holding on just a second longer than necessary. When you pulled back, you could see the mix of emotions in his eyes, but there was a sense of peace there too. He’d let go, not because it didn’t hurt, but because he genuinely wanted you to be happy. You felt your heart swell, gratitude mixing with the faint sting of regret for the friendship that would never quite be the same. But Jack’s words lifted the weight off your shoulders, letting you and Quinn move forward.

With a final look, you stepped outside, Trevor waiting to drive you to the airport, his brow furrowed in confusion at the way you suddenly had pep in your step, a small smile present on your lips that had been missing for weeks. As the car pulled away, you stole one last glance at the lake house, catching a glimpse of Quinn watching you from the porch. He raised a hand in a small wave, and you returned it, a soft smile on your lips.

This summer hadn’t turned out anything like you’d expected.

[outrunningthedark]

I am honestly shocked (as a pretty unbiased party) at the GA’s reaction to the bucktommy breakup. I’d hedge a bet that Tim and co are too! I think they knew that bucktommy was fairly well received (by the general audience and not the loud minority) but i don’t think that they realised those same people who were so flippant about Buck’s prior love interests would keep caring to the extent they have. That people would care enough to express their disappointment in a rational manner - not resorting to name calling etc etc. I do wonder where they plan to go from here (or if they even have a plan) because the idea that Buck jumps back to sleeping around now or diving head first into another relationship eight seasons in…. is jarring and i do wonder how the GA will react to that after this week

I think you’ve brought up an important point re: the reaction to prior love interests, and the funny thing is Tim and his staff only have themselves to blame.

Everyone Buck has been with before Tommy has been a woman. Buck was, for all intents and purposes, perceived as straight. It’s not that difficult to get an audience on board with a hetero relationship, right?

Except the audience was able to bounce back from every breakup because the effort wasn’t there. In fact, I’d bet the relationship the audience cared about most was BuckAbby, but they can’t do anything about Connie only signing for the one season. (And just to cover all my bases, sure, you could say that "effort" was made with BuckTaylor given how much screen time they had, but the audience also had the entire half of 5B to prepare for a break up after the BuckLucy kissing scene!) Now here comes Tommy. He already has established relationships with members of the 118, relationships that have nothing to do with Buck. His first episode in s7 showed him helping the 118 not only rescue Bathena, but going behind people's backs to do it so nobody got in trouble. Episode four establishes that he has also made a friend in Eddie, which is a first for these love interests! If Tommy and Eddie can get along, this time might be different, right? After the kiss in Buck's loft, which the GA obviously didn't hate, they have a conversation after a disastrous date, about wanting to see where things go. Buck was happy. People were gonna like that. The wedding episode is, IMO, where Tim started to slip up. We didn't just see Buck bringing Tommy as his plus-one and introducing him to everybody. We saw Tommy show up to the hospital still in his firefighter gear after an emergency. We saw that he wanted to keep his promise to Buck to be there for the wedding, to show that he, too, was serious about seeing where the relationship could go. We saw Buck kiss him. In public. No shame, no regrets. We also saw their dinner scene in the finale. Not interrupted by Eddie's drama. We saw Tommy still being important enough to the story in 8x01 to be present for Christopher's "birthday party". And then we saw everything that came with 8x05. The fandom can take its victory lap and say "the writing was on the wall", but the general audience? All they saw were two men slowly (possibly) falling in love. Tommy was never actually portrayed as the wrong partner in canon. In fact, he was everything the previous weren't. Every single thing this fandom used as an excuse for why these relationships wouldn't work? Tommy was the anomaly. First responder? Check. Friendly with Eddie? Check. Forms some sort of relationship with Chris? Check. Makes Buck a priority? Check. Isn't sidelined for Buddie scenes? Check. Yep, maybe Tim really did do all those things so that when the breakup actually happened it would leave an impact. But how fucking obtuse do you (Tim) have to be to not realize just how important seeing Buck in a happy, healthy relationship - what little we got of it! - was going to be for the audience? Especially when much of that audience has stuck with you through six seasons of the same old shit? How can you be unprepared for the backlash when YOU are the reason people care this much in the first place?

[lopsicle]

Arcane season 2 spoilers

/////

I have been thinking A LOT about Jayce and Viktor, mainly the scene where Viktor is reborn out of his pod of Hexcore.

Mainly because it means a lot for Viktor’s character. On a fundamental level, he never seen much worth in himself, but he did see worth in inventions, the things he made, it’s how he could prove himself to the world. This is why he becomes so concerned with his illness and the legacy he’ll leave behind on the world; he needs the Hexcore to work because he doesn’t have anything else.

But now, he is literally fused with his invention, his invention that he has grown to hate because it killed one of the only people who truly saw value in Viktor, and not the things he could, partly due to his own negligence. Viktor put it best, in his pursuit of greatness, he failed to do good.

He doesn’t really know how to process what happened to him at all, he’s a smart man, he can clearly deduce that his body has undergone some cybernetic change, he can probably remember the explosion in the council room, but other then that, he’s just confused, hence why he asks Jayce, “what am I?” Viktor’s body is entirely different and unfamiliar, and taking into context that the Hexcore, his greatest invention which he tied all his worth to, has failed before this, it’s likely Viktor had lost sight of who he was, and his new body only served to further that descent.

Jayce can’t think about any of that though, he’s just happy that his partner is alive and who wouldn’t be, he’d been waiting for days, possibly weeks for him to wake. Viktor’s mortality is one of the things that Jayce has struggled with the most in the series, which is what makes his survivor’s guilt so much more pertinent. A lot of people claim that Jayce grew up rich and coddled, and I think that’s true to an extent, but they forgot his family were workers, tool smiths. Jayce seemed to grow up with the idea that he wasn’t that fortunate, that he was a working, middle class man who was going to change the world, and then he meets Viktor, a “poor cripple from the Undercity,” and then he sees what the Undercity is really like and the conditions people live in. And that’s when Jayce realises; he had it good. I believe this is what encourages part of his admiration of Viktor; he is what Jayce thought he was.

Tangent aside, I feel that their hug is a very, very important moment, mainly because of Viktor’s reaction.

He isn’t relieved or uncomfortable, it’s just…nothing. Given what Viktor says about how he doesn’t feel that it’s cold and just recognises that it is cold, I believe this is the moment where it fully sank in how much his body had changed. He couldn’t feel Jayce.

And like, first off, that is such beautiful symbolism for what he says later about how they’re relationship was only held together by affection. Viktor physically cannot feel said affection anymore and know has no reason to stick by the side of someone whose views have become so contrasted to his. But more emotionally, it’s representative of Viktor’s belief that he is unloveable, his new body is merely proof at that, he can’t touch Jayce, he couldn’t save Sky, he couldn’t make the Hexcore work properly, he couldn’t even get Jayce to destroy the Hexcore. To himself, Viktor is a failure who is unworthy of love.

But, he still huge Jayce back. Despite not being able to feel Jaycee’s warmth anymore, despite it feeling like his whole life has crumbled, Viktor wants to give Jayce one last act of service. Perhaps to prove that he still has use, or maybe this was the moment where he decided he would have to part ways with Jayce, and just wanted Jayce to remember his touch, even if Viktor couldn’t remember his.

Anywho if enough people like this dribble, I may post my take on the rest of this scene because it shattered me

[juxi2218]

TOWEL TROUBLE!!!

Fushiguro megumi x reader ( 1.3k )

Warnings: English is not my first language, please bear with my ass; I'm trying to improve it by writing for my pookie gumi!!! (Feel free to correct any grammatical mistakes I may have made) (Might delete it later if it flops lol)

A little preview for yall: “wh-what are you doing?” he panics. You smirk slightly. “What? Am I not supposed to hug my own boyfriend?” you move your head from his nape to his shoulder, trying to get a look at him. His cheeks flush crimson and his eyebrows furrow in a cute little scowl, and he’s still staring fixedly at his cupboard.

You and Megumi stumbled into his apartment, both of you soaked from the rain. Today was your date and it was going well until the rain stormed in. You had been at a café and neither of you had an umbrella so you had to run to his place, which was close by. The cozy apartment was a welcome respite from the storm outside.

“Ugh, I hate getting wet” you murmur to yourself as you finish untying your shoe lace; and this doesn’t go unnoticed by Megumi. He gives you a glance and says “you can go have a shower first. I’ll lend you some of my clothes.” Your ears perk up and you go give him a peck on his cheek.

“Thanks a lot gumi!!”

“Yea, it’s nothing” he says while his cheeks show a visible blush of hot pink. You chuckle a bit before running to his bathroom for a warm and peaceful shower.

It hasn’t been long since you both started dating. Say, it’s been a few months and it sure was hard to get this man to open up. Your relationship started when he came sprinting to you one day, assuming the love letter was a confession from you to your other male friend. However, unbeknownst to him, you were actually playing matchmaker and had agreed to deliver the letter on nobara’s behalf.

Nobara had requested that you give the letter to the other guy, but Megumi got hold of it instead and, unaware of the truth, tore it into pieces. You and the other guy were shocked until Megumi confessed that he likes you. You had a good laugh and explained him what actually was happening. He turned red. You still remember his stupid face from that time.

All red and cute.

He apologised to you both and ran away. The next day, you reached out to him and boom! You guys started dating.

Yeah sure, the confession wasn’t the grand, romantic type you’ve imagined, nor did it unfold like a scene from your favourite movie or book. But despite that, you’re grateful as you never expected him to confess his feelings to you first.

It was really slow at first. The shy pinky holds gradually turned into hands intertwined, progressing to gentle hugs. Yes, you both have kissed for 5 times already and you were the one who initiated it because you know that this poor man would go nuts if he had to make a move on you first. He knew that you were a little bold when it comes to these things, and he had zero complaints with it. He’s so shy, you want to bite him to nothing!! (This man is making me go weak in my knees istg.)

You come out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around your body, hot steam rising from your skin. 

“Gumi! I’m done showe- OUCH!” the man threw one of his sweatshirts at your face.

“Don’t just come out wearing nothing like that!”

“I’ve got a towel wrapped around me you idiot! And why’d you have to throw this at my face?!” you say while rubbing your poor face. As you regain your composure, your eyes roam around his bare chest showcasing his abs (chap 156 argh I’m so proud of my guy) and a pair of black trousers hanging loosely from his hips not failing to show his V line. You were practically drooling over the marvellous sight in front of you.

“you’re naked too!!” you exclaim.

“What? I’m decent? “.

“Huh? You’re only wearing your pants.” You point at his lower half and pout.

“Whatever, just go and change.” He exhales softly, closing his eyes. He then turns his back to you and closes the door of his cupboard while murmuring a few curse words to himself.

You cheekily sneak up to him, wrap your hands around his waist, and rest your forehead against his nape.

“wh-what are you doing?” he panics.

You smirk slightly. “What? Am I not supposed to hug my own boyfriend?” you move your head from his nape to his shoulder, trying to get a look at him. His cheeks flush crimson and his eyebrows furrow in a cute little scowl, and he’s still staring fixedly at his cupboard.

“Shut up” he mutters.

You smile, your grin growing wider as you tease him. He sighs. “I told you to go and change.” He looks at you, then swiftly turns his head away, avoiding eye contact as he takes in your damp hair and the scent of his body wash radiating from your skin. Your hand slides around the other side of his shoulder, gently coaxing his face back towards you. “But I wanna hug you!!” you whine, pouting.

“Yes,” he breathes, his tone husky as he nods, “yes you can do it after getting changed, yeah?” he says, his voice weakening. You shake your head, “yes, but!” you pout again, giving him your most innocent puppy eyes. You can’t help but feel a little mischievous as you keep him wrapped around your fingers.

“Stop being stubborn.”

“I like to hug you like this!”

“y/n, jus- “

“Do whatever you want! I’m not gonna step back!” you retreat your arms from his shoulders and tighten them around his waist.

With only a towel separating your skins, heat surges through his body as he feels your chest pressed against his bare back.

His head spins, and he’s overcome with a sense of weakness. He feels like he’s going to faint. His head is numb.

He doesn’t know what to do, but his body seems to have developed a mind of his own.

“Whatever I want huh?” he mutters, his voice barely audible. He takes hold of your hands, pinning them against the cupboard on either side if your head as his grip intensifies, your back pressed firmly against the cupboard’s surface.

You look at him with wide shocked eyes.

Your towel slips from the grasp you had (now gone) and you gasp in unison as Megumi’s hand reaches down to steady it (before the disaster). You feel your breath coming in ragged gasps as you look down.

His hand wraps around both of yours, holding captive as his other hand still cradles your dear towel, holding you close. You feel your heart beating wildly, racing at an alarming rate... You’re sure it’s going to burst out if you don’t get your shit together. You feel hot, incredibly hot; like all your senses are heightened. The warmth of his skin, the rush of blood to your head. This man is going to be the death of you.

You gaze up at him, and his cerulean eyes lock onto yours, sending a cold shiver down your spine. You feel your face grow hot as he looks down at your lips, his gaze piercing and intense.

You feel heat creeping up your face. He leans in. You close your eyes. You swear you can hear your heart begging you to set it free so it can go jump off a roof.

He stops when he’s an inch away from your lips, his breath warm against your plush. “If you don’t stop this, I can’t promise where this will lead us” He warns.

Shivers run down your spine again at the sudden change in his demeanor and his deep voice sending a thrill through your entire body. He lingers there for a few seconds and pulls away while a proud smirk paints his face so as to tease the shit out of you.

You flutter your eyes open as your hands move to hold your towel and watch him as he walks into the bathroom, leaving you feeling frustrated and flustered.

“Hmph! asshole” you mutter to yourself.

[theesteppenwolf]

More Lucanis rambles because I’m still thinking about it and got nothing better to do :P

I am not here to tell anyone how to feel but putting words into peoples mouths who criticize the Lucanis romance (or Lucanis in general) for being unsatisfactory by saying;

“You don’t know what a slow burn is/ it’s because you expected zevran / you don’t get it he’s traumatized/ you just wanted something spicy and didn’t get it so now you’re mad” etc.

Is completely disregarding the fact that his lack of reactions and lack of content actually led people to believe he is bugged. Most DA fans didn’t expect spice or steam or whatever but they did expect an effective story, one they didn’t get.

This is at the end of the day a visual storytelling medium and implication will only get you so far, if i have to start thinking up entire plotlines in my head to make sense of the story or relationship progression then they failed at good storytelling. If i have to write paragraphs of explanations that the game doesn’t even remotely touch on then that isn’t a slow burn, it’s just a lack of content and poor pacing.

If he is traumatized and reluctant because of it you have to give me a scene where i can actually read that. If he is awkward and doesn’t know how to react to flirting you have to exaggerate to an extent for people to tell. If there is longing and angst give me banter that reflects it.

A romance in a game should give me some kind of deeper personal insight into a character and if i have to do the writers job and in my head think up those insights then the actual romance is mostly moot. I’m not saying give me all the details i’m saying at the very least give me a jumping point, some info buried in the game i won’t get otherwise. His romance fails at this.

Mary Kirby was fired yes and it’s awful what happened but unfortunately the product still remains and it leaves a lot to be desired for a big amount of people. When players are straight up going back on saves to romance someone else it’s a real problem. For me, it soured my first playthrough, especially later when i saw how Davrin and Emmrich had content, convos, specific romance outings and at the bare minimum actually had a noticeable reaction to flirting dialogue.

Again I’m not telling anyone how to feel, if it works for you that’s awesome, but to disregard his obvious lack of content by calling other fans basically stupid is incredibly disingenuous.

I love his character, loved it since The Wigmakers Job and he is still my favorite after my first playthrough. I think the beginning of his romance was very promising and the end is great but everything else is missing I’m sorry. His romance was not well executed and i honestly don’t think his character really was either. (But i won’t vent about that right now)

I know what a slow burn is, i was not expecting Zevran, i did not want a steamy romance. I wanted a well executed story and i didn’t get one. I am critical because i think it could’ve been great, i still love the game and i am not shitting on it, his character or other fans i just hate wasted potential.

[anyca786]

"I THINK I'M GOING TO DIE"

Daemon Targaryen x sister/aunt!Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen

WARNINGS: canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister &niece) poly relationship, child birth, (smut: lactation kink, cock warming) fluff, family drama.

Series

"The pain will be over soon my love, the babe should be here soon," Rhaenyra said, trying to bring her some comfort. She herself had recently given birth to another son, named Viserys.

Daemon stood beside her, he had refused to leave her side.

Daenys huffed and looked at her husband loathingly, "I fucking hate you!"

"What?" Daemon asked, rather hurt than confused.

"Relax, Daemon" Rhaenyra said as she pushes back Daenys damp hair and kissed her forehead, "She's giving birth, stop pouting"

'No, NO!" Daenys shouted this time, her eyes holding fire, resembling a furious dragon. "I'm speaking clearly," she groans in pain," This is all your fault..you and your stupid big cock"

Daenys breathing grows heavy and shakes her head," I fucking hate this! How the hell did mother do this? And Aemma and my beloved Laena?" She said then turned to Rhaenyra," How did you do this?" She babled.

"Princess you must push." the Midwife coaxed but squeaked when Daenys screamed at her face, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"I think I'm going to die," Daenys whined.

Daemon never knew fear until now. He did not want to lose his wife and Rhaenyra shared the same sentiment.

Rhaenyra cupped her face tenderly, "Just a bit more pain for a lifetime of happiness...now fucking push! You're Daenys Targaryen, a dragon and a warrior, so be one!"

Daenys let out a huff of frustration and screamed, ignoring the pain and the voices all around her as she pushed once more and the sounds of a babe, crying, made her fall back in her husband's arms.

"Oh praised the mother!" The mid-wife said, "A boy you have, Princess!"

"A boy?" Daenys couldn't contain her smile, A mini Daemon she thought.

The boy was cleaned and wrapped in a blanket. Daenys held her son close in a possessive manner and fell in love with the baby in her arms. He was absolutely perfect and looked just like her, but with Daemon's lips.

'Aegor," Daenys announced, sporting a wide grin at Daemon who now held Aegor Targaryen in his arms.

Suddenly Daenys felt another cramp, and shouts in pain.

Rhaenyra stood up from her spot and looked at the Maester in worry. The midwife looked underneath Daenys dress and gasped making the two look at her.

"What is it, woman? Spit it out!" Rhaenyra shouted, fear overtaking her face, "Another babe, Princess." the timid midwife squeaked out in fear.

"Another?" Daenys looked horrified, "I can't do this," she cried.

"Yes, you can, my love," Daemon grabbed her hand tight, "Breathe"

Holding Daemon hand tightly and pushing once again. She had finally delivered another babe. Daemon and Rhaenyra held a mixture of pride and happiness.

"A girl!" The mid-wife announced.

Rhaenyra held the babe with happy tears streaming down her face, a little girl in their family. Daenys wore a tired yet beaming smile.

"What will you name her?" Rhaenyra asked her.

"Viseria Targaryen, my warrior princess," Daenys announced proudly.

"My little princess" Daemon whispered, cooing at the baby.

Moments later, Daenys laid on the bed fully exhausted. Once the sheets were replaced, the maidens helped her wear a clean dress. She then started breastfeeding her children.

Daemon and Rhaenyra sat next to her on the bed simply taking in the scene between the mother of their children. Daemon was proud of his wife's strength. She did it, she overcomed her fear.

Rhaenyra's eyes filled with nothing but admiration and love for her wife. She felt content and happy seeing that she had everything she ever wanted.

Daenys couldn't believe that she was a mother now. Two little healthy identical Targaryens.

Now, ever since Daenys gave birth to the Twins, her partners- especially Daemon was practically ravenous for her. The slight chubbiness on her stomach, the softness of her thighs, and her round hips... the swollen breast, oozing with milk.

Daenys sighed angrily as milk leaked through her dress.

"What is it, love?" Daemon asked, already knowing the problem.

"Your children seem to be on a hunger strike," Daenys complained, "My dress is ruined," she pouts, stripping her dress off.

"Fuck," Daemon mumbled, seeing her naked form. The two times larger swollen, leaking breasts making him hard, "Let me see it, love" he said.

"See what, Daemon? " Daenys cocked her head at him while he bit his lip, his eyes trained on her perfectly swollen breast.

Daenys already knew what he was thinking.

"Just let me..." He lifted her in his arms. Daenys wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried he over to the bed where he sat up, while she straddled on him, his hands over her tender breasts. "Does it hurt?"

Daenys nodded in response.

"Let me take care of you, then," Daemon whispered, as he pulled her body closer, his head dipping down to take her pink nipple in his mouth.

He held her close to him, suckling and moaning at the gentle stream of milk that filled his mouth, nothing in the world was sweeter than this.

Daenys carded her fingers through his hair while he nursed from her, his cock growing harder beneath his clothes.

Daenys moaned as her naked buttom grinds his clothed boner, her clit soaking wet.

"Keep my cock warm, will you?" Daemon groaned. Wasting no time he pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock.

"Keeping you warm is how I knocked up pregnant, Daemon" Daenys playfully rolled her eyes. She gasped when he lined up with her entrance. He rubbed the tip of his cock through her folds, before pushing in and holding her in place, as he gave her other nipple attention.

Daemon could feel his cock throb, wrapped around his wife's warmth, nursing from his babysister, he was sure he'd be able to cum without even moving.

Daemon couldn't stop suckling from her breast.

"Daemon.." she moaned. Her breast were too tender and sensitive now.

"Just a litle more?" He peeked up at her, almost whining when she clenched around him, nodding.

"Just a little more, only for you, my love," Daenys said, as she nursed his desires.

🥀

Five years have passed since Rhaenyra, Daemon, and Daenys married in the ways of Old Valyria. And during the times spent on Dragonstone, their family continued to grow- Aegon l and Viserys ll (Daemon and Rhaenyra's sons) and Aegor and Viseria (Daemon and Daenys's son and daughter). Rhaenyra was expecting another child. This time she hoped for a daughter.

"How is our little Visenya?" Daenys inquired, affectionately placing her hand on Rhaenyra's growing stomach.

"Restless," Rhaenyra smiled.

"Just like her mother, I see," Daenys teased her, then pulled her into a passionate kiss.

Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey has already accepted the dynamic well. They consider Daenys as their second mother and her children has their own siblings. In return, Rhaenyra also looked after Daenys children like her own.

Baela and Rhaena, tho remained with their grandparents, exchange letters often with Daenys. The girls were delighted upon hearing the news of the birth of another Targaryen girl. They couldn't wait to meet the Prince and the Princess.

"Where are going all dressed up?" Rhaenyra asked, eyeing her training gears.

"The courtyard, come join me," she smiled.

Rhaenyra watched Lucerys and Jacaerys train in the courtyard, while Daenys held her own sword out training with one of the guards on Dragonstone.

The boys watched their god mother give a powerful kick to her opponent sending him flying backwards and onto the ground.

Another tried to approach and strike - only for Daenys to dodge and the two exchanged blows with swords.

Eventually, it wasn't until the man let out a cry when her sword jabbed his shoulder which had been too late to block the attack, and fell to his knees.

The boys watched with open mouths of disbelief.

Rhaenyra huffed but smirked in pride, "Show off," she muttered.

"Well, she have learned from the best." Daemon who had been watching for a while smiled proudly at his wife.

Daenys smirked, handing the sword off to the nearest person, "I was just warming up." She grabbed Lucaerys and ruffled his hair playfully earning a cry from the boy.

Jacaerys laughed, before getting the same treatment from his mother, "Mother! Not my hair," he complained.

Rhaenyra proudly smiled at her son, she was utterly in love with all of her children, "Come on, let Daenys and Daemon continued their practice," she told the boys, "It's time for your High Valyrian lessons,"

🥀

A scroll was sent in the name of Rhaenyra.

Daenys and Daemon walked inside the hall, all cleaned up and fresh.

"Leave us," Rhaenyra tells her children.

"Joffrey, come." Jacaerys ushered Joffrey to follow. The maid got up as well and assisted Joffrey by picking up his book. Lucaerys also had picked up his books and scrolls.

The Maester followed and soon the doors closed, leaving the three together.

Rhaenyra took the small scroll from Daemon's hand and read it to herself. Daenys already knew what was inside the scroll, "What is it?"

"He means to call into question Luke's legitimacy. And by extension Jace, and by extension my claim to the throne." Rhaenyra uttered in distress.

"Vaemond cares only about Driftmark,' Daenys said with frustration, her striking purple eyes looking up at her love, "Can't believe Viserys thought of marrying me off to him,"

"He only cares about Velaryon line,"' Daemon said.

"Hm, this is what I fear. Rhaenys has flown to court. Surely, she cannot be planning to back him." Rhaenyra stated.

"We may share disagreements but Rhaenys isn't cruel," Daenys said, thinking about her cousin.

"Disagreements? She believes we had her son killed so we might marry." Rhaenyra retorted earning a look from Daenys.

This wasn't the first time Daenys heard this rumor and she even asked Rhaenyra and Daemon to come clean. But they swore that they had nothing to do with it.

'Yes ...and yet, she's taken the girls to the ward," Daenys said.

"In honor of Laena's memory. She has no love for either of us." Rhaenyra said.

Daemon gave Rhaenyra a look while glancing at Daenys," She still holds love for our precious Daenys," he cups her face and lets out a slight chuckle.

Daenys knew that he wasn't happy at all. Their brother has been surrounded by Hightower in the past five years.

"Has the vipers' venom spread so far?" Daemon said.

"Those vipers rule in my father's name. And my father..." Rhaenyra's voice held some edge in it. "What choice do we have?"

Daemon peered down at her belly and placed a gentle hand.He looked up at his wives, "To Kings Landing then,"

"A family reunion, just what we needed," Daenys said sarcastically.

A/N:

Well we all know Daemon's got Mommy issues!

Thank you for supporting my work sm😭 Never thought I'd make it past 50 likes.

[goth-automaton]

Let me butt in and add a couple of things:

9. Don't be afraid to use direct words for body parts. Ass, cock, dick, pussy, clit, casual names are the best. Be careful, if you decide to use euphemisms, it's an easy way to sound silly. And for the love everything unholy, DO NOT use the phrase "treasure chest" for an asshole. I saw that in a couple of fics and it'll never stop haunting me.

10. Be mindful of positions of characters' bodies and where their limbs are. Nothing pulls the reader out of the scene more, than realising, that one of the parties suddenly grew Gadget hands.

11. Sex is messy. Sticky. Sometimes even disgusting. Acknowledging this can add to realism. Maybe a character runs directly to the shower after the deed, 'cause they hate the feeling of cum drying on their skin? Who knows.

12. Addendum to point 6. – yeah, consent is sexy, but if it's established relationship, keep in mind they most likely know each other well and don't have to ask all the time for the green light, especially in vanilla sex. Don't turn the scene into a sex ed.

And most importantly:

13. Have fun. Have a lot of fun. If breaking rules is fun, then break them. If writing cringy stuff is fun, then go for it. The more fun you have, the more enjoyable the scene is. Trust me, readers can always tell.

Good luck on your smutty adventures and may the lemon be with you! 🍋

I read smut fic, yet cannot write it for the life of me! Do you or anyone on this site have tips on how to write smut scenes??? I NEED to add some spice to a fic WIP!

I am saddened to say I really have no tips for that particular endeavor, though I support it!

Anyone have any tips or tricks? Feel free to share!

[aventurineswife]

Love and Boundaries

Tags: @aloudice, Dad!Aventurine x Parent!Reader, Established Relationship, Parenting, Family Fluff, Soft Aventurine, Parental Support, Gentle Reprimand, Disciplining, Love and Respect, Family Bond, Protective Aventurine.

[Inspired By]

Aventurine stood near the doorway of the living room, his eyes carefully following the scene unfolding before him. The soft hum of the evening air mingled with the occasional scolding tone of your voice as you gently but firmly reprimanded your child.

“You know better than this, sweetheart,” you said, keeping your tone calm but serious. “You can’t just go around breaking things because you're angry.”

The child, their small face scrunched up in frustration, crossed their arms tightly over their chest. Their eyes flickered with defiance before they muttered, “I hate you! I don’t care about your stupid rules!”

Aventurine’s lips pressed into a thin line, his mind whirring through the possibilities of how to handle the situation. He could see the irritation and hurt in your expression, a look that immediately triggered a protective instinct inside him.

The child, in a fit of anger, stepped toward you, fists clenched, eyes burning with rebellious fire. Without warning, they swung their hand toward you, aiming to hit you in an outburst of frustration.

Your heart dropped at the sudden move, but before the impact could land, Aventurine was there, his presence a calming yet assertive force in the room.

“Enough.” he said, his voice low but commanding. His figure seemed to fill the doorway as he approached, his demeanor far more imposing than it had been just moments ago. His hand reached out, gently grasping the child’s wrist mid-swing, halting them in their tracks.

“You do not lay a hand on them,” Aventurine continued, his gaze unwavering, now focused solely on his child. His voice was sharper, colder, but still held that underlying warmth that only you could recognize. “That may be your parent, but that is my spouse, and you will not be disrespecting them like that.”

The child’s eyes widened in shock, their defiance crumbling at the sternness in their father’s voice. Aventurine’s eyes flickered with a mix of concern and disappointment, yet his love for you shone clearly through his words.

“You need to learn respect,” he said, kneeling down to meet the child’s eye level, his hand still holding their wrist. “This kind of behavior is not acceptable, not in this house, and certainly not toward your other parent.”

You stood quietly, your heart swelling with love and relief. Aventurine had always been able to maintain control, but his fierceness in protecting you, in teaching their child to respect boundaries, made you feel seen, cherished.

The child slowly lowered their gaze, their anger subsiding, replaced by a quiet sadness.

“I’m sorry…” they muttered, their voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean it.”

Aventurine released their wrist, placing a gentle hand on their shoulder. “I know you didn’t mean it,” he said softly, his tone shifting to one of understanding. “But you need to understand that actions have consequences. Words have weight. We don’t lash out at people we love.”

The room fell into a brief silence, the tension easing as Aventurine’s words sank in. He turned to you, a soft smile creeping onto his lips, the playful gleam in his eyes returning.

“You’re okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice as he reached out to cup your cheek with one hand.

You nodded, your heart warming from his unwavering support. “I’m fine. Thank you, Aventurine.”

His smile deepened, his eyes softening. “You know I would do anything for you, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

With a soft laugh, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tender embrace. His child, now standing a little further away, seemed to be processing what had just happened. Aventurine’s hand gently rested on your back, a symbol of the unity that kept you all together, no matter how complicated things got.

In that quiet moment, you realized that, despite the challenges of raising a child together, there was no greater feeling than having a partner who would always stand by you—someone who loved you and your family, and who would protect you from anything that tried to tear you apart.

[Jing Yuan ver]

[endlessxdreams]

The little hints that are easily missed part 2:

1. When Charles said to Declan (I’m paraphrasing because I don’t remember exactly the lines) that he and Rupert are the same, stubborn, workaholics and want their way always winning I feel like it was a for shadowing for the dynamic between Declan & Rupert’s relationship with each other. They are the same person that in another universe they might be the other way around (Rupert married with kids and Declan a playboy). Regarding that, I feel that it was intensionally assigned as a scene to showcase that Declan’s hate was influenced by Tony but also reasonated the reason why Taggie is entangled with Rupert. Electra’ s syndrome where women fall for men that have the same personality as their father. She sees a lot of her father (which she admires) in Rupert. It may be far fetched but hear me out. Maud is a really bad mother to her children, especially Tags, which she is jealous because of her youth and beauty and she calls her retarted and stupid. Declan on the other hand, has a drinking problem, is a workaholic who rarely goes to his house, has anger issues and has been in a weird relationship with his wife (he enjoys other men watching Maud, lusting after her, being desired and sleeping with them) but as a father he loves Taggie (I think she is his favourite because in their house she’s the only person that is not problematic and tries her best to care for them).

2. Declan immediately saw the way way Rupert was watching Taggie at the pub and said “Stay away from Taggie, you’re old enough to be her father”. So if Taggie is 20 years old (in the books she’s 18) that makes Rupert 40 (in the books he’s 38). The dirt he gathered for Rupert and his secret weapon he will use it when he finds out about AngelBlack (I love the ship name, kudos ❤️❤️ to the person that suggested it).

3. The way he calls her “Angel” is his way of seeing the celestial light, she is an innocent creature, full of love, care and compassion for animals, people, her family. She’s an introvert who loves her own space, likes to provide comfort and love to others but also she didn’t choose this role. She’s not the typical 20 year girl. She’s like a mother figure, she takes care of the household, she cooks, she tries to help other people, her father, her sister while at the same time she tries her best to make her life better, to overcome her own difficulties (dyslexia)- As someone who has dyslexia I can assure you that is difficult, I’m lucky in a sense because while it was 20 years ago (I was in first grade) and it was when my teacher noticed and informed my parents, they didn’t dismissed her and they took me to speech and occupational therapists and is not bad (I read-write-think perfectly without a grammar mistake and when I tell people that I have dyslexia they don’t believe me because I’m the devils advocate and they tell me I should be a lawyer because I’m always 5 steps ahead. But I have a terrible ADHD brain disorder and I can’t remember stuff I read a day before and I can’t concentrate to read and understand what I’m reading/I have also a bad anxiety disorder so while I read I can’t get my mind to remember shit and get anxious and start crying and feel like I’m an idiot because I read the same paragraph 15 times to comprehend what I’m reading and wherever how hard you study and you try you always fail miserably). Mind you that this was 20 years ago in Greece which is not a place that people have empathy or tolerance toward someone else being different than them (even some teachers back then didn’t want me in their class or they didn’t want to help me study because they though I was slow and dummy and some of my classmates were the same). Therefore, I love the representation of people with learning disabilities and how difficult is for them to navigate life. And in the 80’s when so little things were known back then. Thus, Taggie is a fallen angel, she pays for other people’s sins, she is a pure sensitive soul, who from a young age she is always puts other people’s needs first, she keeps her distance, doesn’t try to make herself visible to others, doesn’t take space, attention, affection and love (only her siblings love her continuously as we saw at the hug scene of the NYE episode but I feel like the love her like a mother figure and not as a sister). Rupert’s sees all of that, her sacrifices, her fierce nature to others and her willingness and is drawn to her like a dog needs water, he is the devil and she will redeem him from himself. Someone on Tik Tok mentioned that the bedroom scene from the NYE episode was directed to Rupert’s emotional state. He is in a cold place, he doesn’t care about anyone or tries to give this impressions, he doesn’t see his children because his ex wife didn’t want him anywhere near them, he finds comfort between women’s legs but is temporary and he is a shell of himself and his glory days. And as he puts Taggie to sleep and they look at each others eyes, the celestial light shines bright making Rupert feel warmth inside of him, like all his sins will be consumed.

4. From all the people in NYE episode he was the only one that went into the kitchen and told her to relax and have fun, no one other cared to bother to remember that she existed (expect Patrick and Caitlin). He took care of everything that needing to be taken care of, he protected Charle’s photo of panic attacks getting on paper, he payed the DJ’s, cleaned up and went home. Acts of service. He saw Taggie in an fragile emotional state, feeling unlovable, unworthy, unable to cope with all of this pain and wanted to help her. He talked to Freddie and wanted all three of them to make the franchise in order for Taggie to not leave and because she was devastated by her father losing his job, credibility and leave the town she liked for once in her life. Rupert saw all of this. She had the world on her shoulders at such a young age and wanted to make her happy.

5. The line “What if no one ever loves me?” is a parallel to Rupert’s own thoughts. He confessed to never have been in love in Declan’s show.

6. The way that he was jealous of Ralphie and said that she can do so much better than him and watched intensely and wanted to throw hands for hurting her in the worst way, of Seb who took her to the movies meanwhile he was fucking Cameron.

7. He cared about her opinion of him. He doesn’t give a fuck or pretends to to other people’s opinions but with Taggie he’s eager to learn what she feels of him and he starts slowly to unmask himself from his persona. He gave her an egg jewel and not something mainstream which he would get for other women (for example the bracelet). He was pleasantly surprised by the fact that she accepted his apology but not his gift, because he is so used to pay his way into women’s hearts-pants and Taggie returns it. Also I believe that the egg jewel was a personal gift in which he choose himself whereas all the others were picked by the Jewerly stuff or his assistants.

8. He wants her empowered and to speak her mind. In the episode of the killing of the birds which she did the catering, he pursue her to admit that she will not do another catering job for hunting/killing innocent animals.

9. Rupert’s worry of Taggie’s accident and the way they hugged each other, especially him, the realisation that shr could have been dead. He immediately drove the car and Taggie home because she was so upset that she couldn’t drive and when he heard the tape of the directions, he offered both of them to go to the tours around city promoting Venturer.

10. The way that I HATED HIS GUTS/ LOATHED HIM in the first episodes and couldn’t fathom the fact that they’re a ship and slowly we saw him change, yearning and longing for a glimpse of her, like he see his true self come to the surface and be vulnerable when he sees her . As Bas said “crushing like a school girl”. A 40 year old playboy with a lot of issues that wants his partners daughter which he promised that “she’s out of bounds” and everything is complicated, he could loose everything, his money, his house, his position as a minister, Declan, Freddie, Taggie and his entirety of his life. Talk about complicated and difficult.

[biancadoes1]

So I recently re-listened to the Still Watching by Vanity Fair podcast episode titled Bridgerton Season 3 Part 2: Three’s Company that Luke Newton was interviewed on (highly recommend people check it out if they haven’t his interview is so good!) and I am just blown away by how fucking kind and sensitive Luke is. Like of course he’s human and flawed as no one’s perfect but like in that interview he’s constantly complimenting not only Nicola but also Jonathan Bailey and Simone for how graciously they led the show in season 2 and he admired them and the previous leads as well. And how thoughtful he is in his portrayal of Colin and how he loves the character for his kindness and sensitivity. He also touches on masculinity and how Colin had a twisted idea of what being a man is because of his Dad’s death and how Anthony dealt with running the household and how this season was his journey with his relationship with Penelope and how she helps him unlearn that and accepting he is enough and how he is is strength not a weakness. And he compliments Jess as Cressida and Claudia and he’s so sweet and you just can really tell he really does respect women like Nicola says. He talks a lot about intimacy scenes and consent and tenderness being so so sexy. And I just I can really feel Nicolas assessment of him being just a really good dude who respects women and is so kind. He literally talks about the privilege to act alongside Nicola. All that to say I really do think all the SM hate he hit was so unfair and I absolutely understand why Nicola ran to defend him. It also highlights how ridiculous the narrative of them beefing on social media is. Like obviously all people have fights regardless of friendship or romance but these two have such respect and admiration for one another they def aren’t gonna shade each other on social media for the world to scrutinize. Even their tension in Italy you still saw later that day in the photoshoots how happy and giggly they still were with one another so they clearly got past or worked through it together. Also in the interview he talked AGAIN about how much he enjoys playing in love Colin and how he really looks forward to Season 4 to be able to have that vibe and be even more rom com with Nicola. I just hope he does know that’s it not the majority of the fans and he deserves good things.

We stan Luke Newton around here.

If you don’t………idk why you’re here lol

[ladiesworldsblog]

Well, let me tell you something about that scene.

She’s the girlfriend of the junior boss of the law firm in he US, where my wife made her first steps in her career. That company made a lot of money and Junior was an arrogant bully to me. I really hated that guy, but he was generous in some way, if he got what he wanted.

We weren’t married or engaged at this time, but had been in a relationship for some months already. So he invited us to a boat trip on his dads really impressive yacht. It was fun, we enjoyed ourselves and had a great time. We had separate cabins, but it was obvious that he was interested in my sweetheart.

I already knew, she wasn’t a saint and she had my allowance and maybe even my encouragement to have fun in life, so she enjoyed some other cocks beside mine. I was completely fine with that and could handle that quite well.

Junior knew about this and he bullied my with his skills in bed and his cock size. He told me, that he had have my sweetheart and he show how it made me hard as he said it. His grin was so fucking big.

We partied that evening, enjoyed a good meal and some drinks, danced and joked around. But I also saw him groping my woman on the dancefloor, I guess, I even caught him as he put his hand into my sweethearts panties. But I didn’t do or say a thing.

Suddenly they disappeared and his girlfriend came to me, asking me, if I‘m ok? I nodded and she gave me some company, asking me, if I knew, that he was interested in her and surely will spread her legs for his big dick, getting screwed in his cabin. And she could clearly read the excitement in me, saw my bulge and teased me hard. Telling me how good he‘s in the bedroom, how good his cock feels in a wet silky pussy. She showed me her bare boobs and her erect nipples.

And it was just too much for me, as she came close and whispered in my ear, if I mind when she joins them in the cabin for a threesome. He had told her, how delicious her pussy juice tastes and that she loves to scissor with her as well. I came in my pants and she giggled and said she‘ll take this as my approval.

I had a short hard night alone in our cabin, I could hear them having fun in the captains cabin and got hard by that lovely moans and scream from both females. He was a fucking bastard and I lost count of the amount of orgasms he spent my sweetie.

I was up early in the morning and needed some fresh air and enjoyed the sunrise on deck as I saw his girlfriend coming upstairs, her gorgeous body barely covered. She gave me a good morning kiss and I could smell her breath dick. She said my sweetie has sent her and told her that I‘m really good and eager at licking cum-filled pussies.

Before I could react, she pulled her panties down to her ankles and let me get a look at her swollen, sweaty and cummy pussy. Gosh, she had beautiful lips and I dropped to me knees and just had to kiss her. She tasted so wonderful and she loved what I was doing there.

She gasped, she moaned, she pulled me closer into her needy cunt. She was getting close and just as he screamed out an intense orgasms, I heard the voices of my girlfriend and her bosses son coming upstairs as well, asking me, if I‘m already enjoying my breakfast. She squirted and pushed her juices mixed with some of his sperm deep down into my throat.

[outrunningthedark]

I think it says a lot, that only Lou seems to have realized there would be a backlash. He gave thoughtful and caring responses despite how he was treated by toxic shippers.

And then there's Tim and Oliver, seemingly patting themselves on the back.

I knowww someone pointed it out (forgive me I can't remember who), but he literally thought his character was going to get hate for breaking up with Buck??? Because once again, Buck was the one "all in" on the relationship only to be left alone in the end??? And it turns out any fan with access to a keyboard is not criticizing Tommy doing the breaking up, just the fact that it actually happened. Especially AFTER the events of 8x05. Where TOMMY was caring for Buck. Not the other way around.

These fans are not fucking stupid. They know they got played. They know, after watching that last scene, that ABC and Tim were not actually serious about giving the audience MORE queer rep (yes, there have always been queer characters here, but also keep in mind that Michael and David are probably never coming back!) they can love and appreciate when the order of the episodes was done in a way to CAUSE as much hurt as possible.

[wendylianmartin]

So, I wanted to share my appreciation for this moment and what it meant to me in retrospective.

For some context, I'm aroace and I'm not at all interested in any romance if I am myself involved. But I can enjoy characters finding happiness through romance if the relationship is compelling and deep enough and if I'm attached to the said characters. I definitely felt in love with Siren and Kappa's romance, loved seeing them together and couldn't wait for them to be reunited in season 2.

However, I'm also a huge sucker for other kind of platonic relationships, especially family relationships. And if I can enjoy romance, I always hated how general medias tended to put romance in a pedestal compared to other kind of relationships. As if romance was the only valuable and precious relationship you could have with others.

Leading us back to this scene, I really loved how Lord Ogo threatening Siren AND Nethimir seemed to portray them as equally important people to Kappa. Siren being the man he loves, and Neth being a important family figure for him (and adding our beloved baby arp-worm). It didn't put more emphasize to Siren, but valued them both, as the relationship he has with both of them is different yet as equally precious to him.

And in my opinion that's how relationships overall should be portrayed, as diverse yet as equally valuable and important to us. So thank you for this representation, I deeply and genuinely enjoy it.

Happy you liked this moment! 😁

[darklinaforever]

When I see some people racking their brains to understand what Sauron must have felt about Adar and what their relationship was like, I'm quite perplexed, because the show gives the answer. On Sauron's side exclusively, it is evident that Adar was his closest friend. As Galadriel sees Elrond as her closest friend. The parallel is obviously. What Galadriel tells Halbrand in the forge saying that the company mutinied against her and that her closest friend (Elrond) conspired against her, seeing Halbrand's face at that moment, he understands because it is basically what happened to him with a few details ready. Fans had already guessed it but season 2 made it explicit with its introduction and the scene between Sauron and Adar in the first episode which confirms the idea of ​​Adar as Sauron's closest friend from the point of view of Sauron. Because in this scene where Adar talks about their meeting and Sauron cries, Adar explains that Sauron gave him a drink. Like Galadriel did with Elrond when she met him. Sauron surely loved Adar as Galadriel loves Elrond. As his closest friend. It's that simple. And yes, certainly, on Adar's side, we can interpret that he was in love with Sauron because of the discussions between Adar and Galadriel, and the fact that Adar once again compliments male beauty, this time in Elrond. But on Sauron's side, there is absolutely nothing that insinuates anything of this nature, either in the show itself or the interviews with the creative writers and actors. Even the appearance of children, which Sauron gave to Adar, well Sauron always hated them. From Sauron's point of view, he must have simply loved Adar exclusively as his closest friend, which explains his emotional reaction when Adar speaks of their meeting, which is essentially a parallel to that of Galadriel with Elrond.

[blues-valentine]

This is my last post about it. OBX 4 wasn’t just bad in terms of JJ but all characters in general.

The writers, knowing they’d kill JJ off, started a character assassination train on him perhaps expecting us to feel like he deserved to die? But we know JJ. We all know JJ’s reckless but not to this level of detachment. He was acting like an entirely different person. JJ would’ve never treated Kiara, John B or any of his friends like that. Ever. Not matter how bad life turned out. Even with the whole “JJ blew all of our money!” it’s like they wanted us to hate him so badly.

Don’t even get me started on how bad that JJ plot twist was and since Part 1 I said it. Trying to erase his entire life like that even when it didn’t make sense was lazy writing. And all for what? To have his biological father be the one to kill him at the end? Because that’s the only possibly cruel explanation for that plot twist.

Killing JJ in such a way when this character spent his entire life suffering physical and emotional abuse from his adoptive father is cruel and it sends such a sad messaging.

OBX has always been bad at giving the girls good story lines and that aren’t always about their boyfriends. Kiara’s relationship with her parents was totally ignored. We got from them cutting her off at 401 to them clapping for her at the ceremony and we never got to know how they reached that place. Did they go to family therapy in those 18 months? Did they talk and came to an agreement together? But nothing.

Cleo didn’t get to have a story line that wasn’t mostly adjacent to Pope. And for a character that’s been here for 3 seasons we only know she worked for Terrance and it’s good with knifes. We don’t know her actual surname. And I was expecting more from her revenge plot and I feel silly for expecting that from those writers.

Sarah’s PTSD regarding Ward was never further explored. The writers also forgot about Wheezie and Rose. Sarah wouldn’t have continued on without trying to reach out to her. It’s like they just didn’t want to deal with it. And the worst one is them making Sarah say she didn’t feel ready for a family at her age for them to forget about it and have her pregnant. Despite how silly it is considering the circumstances of their life and how much trauma she has to heal from.

Don’t even get me started on the way the writers never explored the girls relationship. The only bonding scene between the girls we got was Sarah telling Kiara she���s pregnant and Cleo wasn’t even there. We never saw them just existing as young girls just joking around. Hell; even a whole boys conversation would feel somehow natural and we didn’t even got that.

Pope is a killer now? And by the influence of Cleo not less. Did the writers forgot about Season 3? And how she was the one that stopped him from killing Rafe. So, now you’re telling me she was the one egging him on to become a killer. Make it make sense please.

And the pogues dynamic was so bad. God, it was so out of character for them all. Firstly, John B would’ve never allowed JJ to walk into that self destructive path especially after learning about Chandler. And then, the way JJ confessed to Pope he was sucidical and he just didn’t say anything about it? Kiara was also incredible out of character. And that death scene was particularly dumb in so many levels, because it could’ve been preventable and it was pointless. But the thing that pisses me off the most is that the pogues stood there watching. In a scene that felt perhaps a bit anticlimactic. “Not pogue gets left behind” but they buried him on a desert in Morocco and had Rafe be the one to dig the hole too. Those are not my pogues and this wasn’t the dynamic I feel in love with. OBX went from being a comfort show to give me so much unnecessary frustrations.

[rosquinn]

One of my Dorian Gray hot takes is that there was absolutely nothing in Dorian and Basil's relationship that was healthy. I keep seeing posts like "Basil's love for Dorian was so pure, that's why the portrait was so pretty and the real villain of the story is Wotton because he corrupted it"

As I see it, yes, Wotton did corrupt him, but saying Basil's feelings for Dorian were pure is simply inaccurate to the story. Basil says himself he merely sees Dorian as an artistic ideal [Dorian Gray is to me simply a motive in art. I find him in the curves of certain lines, in the loveliness and subtleties of certain colours. That is all; ch1] and admitted he (a 10 year older man, who had power over him) tried to isolate him from other people and "keep him to himself". Furthermore, Basil also plays a big role in the way Dorian sees himself and his beauty, by painting him everyday and not maintaining any conversation with him, he's indirectly reaffirming what Wotton tells him: people only care about you because you're pretty and young. There is also this scene from the second chapter:

Dorian Gray turned and looked at him. "I believe you would, Basil. You like your art better than your friends. I am no more to you than a green bronze figure. Hardly as much, I dare say.

The painter stared in amazement. It was so unlike Dorian to speak like that. What had happened? He seemed quite angry. His face was flushed and his cheeksburning.

"Yes," he continued, "I am less to you than your ivory Hermes or your silver Faun. You will like them always. How long will you like me? Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know, now, that when one loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry Wotton is perfectly right. Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I shall kill myself."

Hallward turned pale and caught his hand. "Dorian! Dorian!" he cried, "don't talk like that. I have never had such a friend as you, and I shall never have suchanother. You are not jealous of material things, are you?-you who are finer than any of them!"

Dorian is even dealing with a suicidal ideation over what Wotton has told him and the way Basil sees him, he needs emotional validation, he's asking to be told there's more than him than that, and Basil's reaction is just─ no. You're prettier than any other object (indirectly comparing him to one, too).

Basil's view of Dorian influences how he sees people as much as Wotton's. For example, to Dorian Sybil was only what she pretended to be, he loved her performance, her acting, how she did exactly what the public wanted (which can apply to Dorian himself), not the real her. She was only an artistic ideal to him, she meant to him exactly what Dorian meant to Basil. He ignored her desires, pain and everything not related to what he wanted to see, since that's what he's been taught he must appreciate.

I also disagree with the interpretation of the portrait as a "pure" reflection of Basil's love (I would personally rather describe it as an obsession, though) and Dorians soul because it's not. At least not entirely. Part of the point of the book is that everyone only saw the part of Dorian they wanted: the portrait represents Basil's idolized version of him, what he wanted to see and how he refused to see Dorian as a person instead of an artistic ideal. That's why he tried to make him redeem himself, because he hated seeing his version of Dorian shatter into pieces. It was never Dorian entirely, not even after aging terribly because that's the result of Basil and Wotton's influence. The portrait was not his soul, it was a modified version of it other people played with because nobody cared about the whole thing, and the influence was so big those parts became his whole being. It was just an idolized, molded version at first but turned into his real self with the time and the sins. Dorian's soul (the portrait) was constructed upon what others appreciated about him, so when Wotton motivated him to sin, because Dorian's potential to be terrible was what mattered to him, it became ugly and terrible. There was absolutely nothing pure about that portrait since day 1.