#i should get rid of it but it talks to me

[flowersforbucky]

you drew stars around my scars

bob reynolds x reader

summary: you show bob that he doesn’t need to be insecure about anything with you.

word count: 1k

warnings/tags: 18+ only, mentions of past drug use, descriptions of scars from drug use, insecurities, hurt/comfort, kissing and suggestiveness, implied smut, no use of y/n, some angst, fluff

author's note: i fully believe the sentry project would have gotten rid of any scars but i couldn't get this idea out of my head so.. just pretend with me.

please do not read this if any of the warnings could be triggering for you. you are responsible for your own media consumption, take care of yourself ♡

“Honey,” you breathe. He plants a trail of kisses from your jaw down to the pulse point of your throat, where he begins to bite and suckle.  

He knows that it's your weakness.  

Normally, you'd melt into it – let him take his time peppering you with love bites.  

But right now, you're seeking something else. He knows it, too. It's the reason he's trying his hardest to distract you.  

The second that your hands crept under his shirt and began easing the fabric up his back, he broke the heated kiss you’d been lost in, moving his lips to your throat, instead.  

And then to your collarbones, and then the peaks of your breasts, and your sternum, and so on – until he’s so far down your body that you have no choice but to let your hands fall away from where they’d been resting under his shirt.  

A blissful distraction, but a distraction nonetheless. 

“Honey,” you repeat when he gets to the waistband of your panties. He pauses before he can pull them down, looking up at you with an expression of hesitation and uncertainty.  

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asks, concern etched in his voice. “Do you want me to stop?”  

“Well, no,” you laugh. “I don’t. I just…”  

You trail off, looking up at the ceiling. You’d been planning how to go about this conversation in your head for days, but now that it’s actually time to string the words together to formulate what should be a relatively straight forward question, your brain is drawing blanks.  

“What is it?” He asks gently. He sits up on his knees, placing a comforting hand on your thigh. “You can talk to me.”  

There's a part of you that wants to drop it entirely. The last thing you want is to be embarrass him, or pressure him, but you also need him to know that you want to touch him, feel him, see him completely and fully.  

Mostly, you want to understand why.  

Why doesn’t he want you to take his shirt off? Why is he insistent on wearing long sleeves when it’s the middle of summer? Why is it that when he does take his shirt off during sex, it’s only at night when all of the lights are turned off? 

It hurts you to think that he may not see himself the way you see him. All you want is to assure him that he never has to hide any part of himself – not from you. 

“You know I love you, right?” You sit up, eye-level with him. His brows crease, in the endearing way they usually do when he’s confused or in deep thought. “All of you?”  

He drops his gaze, as if realizing the direction this conversation is heading. He nods. “Of course I do.”  

You place a handle beneath his chin, gently tilting his head back up so that he's looking you in the eye once more. “Can I see all of you, then?”  

“It’s not that I don’t want you to see me,” he murmurs. “I’m just afraid that you’ll look at me differently once you do.”  

“Bob,” you breathe, stroking the side of his face with your thumb. “There’s nothing in this world that could make me love you less. You’re perfect to me, no matter what.” 

He gives you a small, hesitant smile before he grabs the hem of his Henley and slowly pulls it over his head. At first, your eyes go to the muscles of his chest. You have caught glimpses of them and have felt them from beneath his clothing on many occasions, so you’re not surprised by the defined planes of his abdomen, but you still can’t help but ogle.  

As many times as you’ve tried to picture what he'd look like without the baggy shirts, you're now realizing that your imagination failed you.  

Then, he extends his arms. Your eyes follow his to his inner elbows, and that’s when you realize that his insecurity was never about his physique.  

You know what you’re looking at without him having to explain. Though it isn’t something he talks about often, his history with drug addiction is not a secret. You're still surprised to see the slightly raised, discolored lines in the bends of his arms, however. Mostly because you didn’t think it was possible for him to have scars anymore.  

There’s a couple on each arm, some more noticeable than others.  

“All of the others faded a long time ago,” he says meekly, staring down at the marks. “But these got infected, so they scarred worse. I had hoped that the serum they gave me in Malaysia would take care of them, but I guess it doesn’t really help older scars, ‘cause they’re still here.” 

You scoot closer to him, once again tilting his face to look up at you. He gulps, blinking quickly to keep unshed tears at bay. Leaning forward, you slate your lips over his. He kisses you back, practically sighing against your lips with relief.  

You pull his right arm to you, leaning down to press your lips to the more prominent of the two dark lines in a series of feather-light kisses. Bob’s posture relaxes, and you hear the faintest hum of contentment emanate from his chest. When you've kissed both scars, you move to his left arm and do the same.  

“I love you,” you whisper when you pull away. “I think you’re beautiful, Bob. I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to hide any part of yourself from me.”  

“I love you, too. More than you know.” He smiles, no longer looking ashamed or embarrassed. He maneuvers you back down against the mattress, hovering above you. There’s a playful look on his face as he smirks down at you, eyes roaming down your chest and to where his fingers once again toy with the band of your underwear.  

“Now that we have that conversation out of the way, maybe I could get back to what I was trying to do a few minutes ago? If that’s.. if that’s okay with you?”  

You snort a laugh, pushing away the locks of his hair that fall down over his face. "Of course."

******

thank you so much for reading!! as always, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3

[ecto-phool]

[in Justice league meeting one of first times being fully introduced, directly after cyborg]

Cyborg finally recovered, clearly dizzy and clutching his head, “why do I want a book about gorillas?”

“Wait- purple back gorillas?” Red Robin gets interrupted before cyborg can respond

“Who are you and what are your goals with hacking into cyborg” Batman demands the disembodied voice that had been coming from cyborg.

“First of all- you’re welcome. I was not hacking cyborg I was killing the program that HAD hacked him. It was complete happen stance that I even saw the alert and realized I could help.” The voice was now coming from the main monitor of the watchtower.

“How did you get access to this computer.” Batman demands again

“Dude after getting through the stuff oracle set up for the bat computer? I could do this in my sleep.”

“Who are you.”

“Uhhhhhhhhh you can call me pharaoh.”

“Wait pharaoh? THE PHARAOH! YOU FUCKER STOP SENDING SONIC MEMES!” Red Robin shouts

“Red Robin you know this person?”

“No just that he has completely gotten into the bat computer just to send shitty memes and horrifically incorrect conspiracy theories.”

“There was a breach in the bar computer and you didn’t think to tell me”

“I may have done that first but everyone else has too.” Red Robin completely ignored Batman to turn back to the monitor. “What’s the fucking deal with purple back gorillas!”

The resulted in a long suffering sigh followed by a slightly muffled response, “my greatest achievement and worst mistake, it was code to get rid of one of our rouges but now I can’t get it out of almost every code I create I have no idea what I did to do it and I have never managed to do it again or get rid of it! I made it in high school! In the middle of an attack with like three hours of sleep! Why is it the most powerful thing ever!!!

…

Anyway it annoys me to no end, if it keeps bothering you actual read up a bit on purple back gorillas and it should go away.”

“How long have you been in our system?” Wonder Woman asks

“The league…a couple hours the bats like a year, your guys’ security really is top notch no one has gotten even halfway through your stuff, completely venerable to ghosts but the security I added should take care of that!”

“Where do your allegiances lie?”

“Uhhh with phantom…I mean you guys are great, but in terms of heroes that guy has taken on shit just as bad if not worse than y’all and he’s completely on his own. I mean I’m cool with you guys but if my friend meets you she might either punch you or give you a talking to about distress signals and answering calls for help…actually knowing her it will be both at the same time…”

The justice league seemed to be prepared to jump in with more questions and demands but before anyone could break their shock pharaoh spoke again

“Oh shit the ghost alarm just went off I have to go see what that’s about, anyway your welcome for the save and Red Robin I’ll message you later! Toodles!!!!”

“Please don’t—” but the click of the disconnect interrupted RR

“Ghosts is a Constantine thing right?”

Short DPXDC Prompts #682

Tucker finally gets his hands on a Wayne Tech phone. It’s far more powerful than his PDA. The universe trembles in fear with what he can do with just a little upgrade.

[randomusingsofalovesickgirl]

EPISODE 04 (PT. 1): LIFELINE

🎶 lifeline by sedona 🎶 bing bong love song by fig 🎶 shaking the can by peach fuzz

a/n: also!! i want to say that this is completely fictional. i do not think anyone in the show was particularly terrible or rude, but i had to amp it up for the story. please remember this is fictional !!

“Oh, so now you’re good!” Whitney exclaimed, motioning to George beside you, who had suddenly become suspiciously fluent in harmonica–a far cry from his struggling attempts minutes earlier. 

The tune was oddly cinematic, like a horror movie soundtrack building suspense before the kill, mocking your fates with every note. You knew someone was going, but you had no clue. Gently, you reached for his hands, slightly nudging the harmonica down. 

“Maybe, not the time,” you murmured. You were enjoying it, although clearly, not everyone was.  

No one noticed his sudden silence though. Not with Mandi spiralling over PK’s potential betrayal. Jason, of course, was fuelling the fire, instigating her further. “He could be manipulating you. One minute you're safe, and the next—poof—you’re gone. He could vote you out just like that.”

The others joined in, analysing PK’s trustworthiness (or, well, lack thereof) and guessing who Uncle P thought was dragging the team down. You, on the other hand, just wanted to know so you could either get out or go to bed. 

Whether you were on that chopping block or not, there’s nothing you can do to defend your spot. You can’t run into Room 19 and convince them to let you stay.

Still tied at the ankles, you and George had given up on the stiff dining stools and settled close on the couch, your head hovering on the sofa just above his shoulder. “Hey,” He whispered, loud enough for only you (and of course, the microphone). “Be careful going forward, okay?” 

You frowned, “Why? What happened?” 

He sighed, “You’re safe today, I hope, but when I was at the gym with PK this morning, he said he and Jason wanted to vote a girl out.” 

You wanted to scoff, of course, they see it as girls versus boys right now. Regardless, you leaned closer, trying to hear better as the noise at the table doubled, with Mandi now declaring that it’ll be her. 

“He was talking about how the girls are in little teams, like you and Milli.” 

Admittedly, they weren’t wrong. There were no strong bonds between the boys yet, while Whitney, Mandi, and Mya were practically inseparable. You and Milli were another pair, while Cinna and Farah floated between. 

“So, how do you know I’m safe?” PK is close to the trio, so the odds were that he wouldn’t touch them. Then again, you have been among the best savers, so it’d be detrimental if they got rid of you. That, and you and Uncle P were relatively close. 

George hesitated, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “He told me he wouldn’t vote you out.”

[Later, while watching the episode back, you’d realise that PK promised George, “I won’t mess with your girl, don’t worry”, and George had just…dabbed him up. Thanked him. No corrections, no clarifications.]

“And, he’s worried that the trio is going to turn on him.” George added, before you could question his hesitation. 

“Do you think they will?” You turned around to face him, not realising how close you two actually were–his breath hitting your face, his eyes glancing down to your lips. 

He shook his head, turning to face the wall in front of you now. “Doesn’t matter. You can’t really trust anyone here, can you?” 

Removing yourself from facing him so directly, you drop your head back to where it was, nodding. You let yourself process the new information. 

There is no doubt that it’ll be a girl tonight. If you could give immunity to anyone, it’d be Milli or Cinna. Although, you knew you were biased–they were smart, loyal, and played the game with a conscience. 

“I’m so tired of all this,” You huffed, dropping your hands into your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. “Maybe I should just get voted out, and spend the rest of the week at home.” 

George paused before deciding to test the waters. Slowly, he took one of your nervous hands into his, and let your intertwined hands rest on his lap. 

“I don’t want you to leave.” 

“Well, I want you to win. For your sister.” Your voice was barely a whisper. 

You decided to stop yourself from confessing that you wanted to be out so you could process your feelings for him, so you can avoid him a little longer. But even worse, you wished that both of you were eliminated, so the two of you can talk without all these cameras. “I just want us to talk…really talk.” 

“We don’t have to be voted out to talk,” He murmured, nudging you with his shoulder. 

You lifted your head, but made sure to keep your distance from his face this time. “You want to talk about it with all these cameras on us?” 

Despite the distance you created, he brought his empty hand to your face, brushing your hair behind your ear. Something he’s done a million times. But this time, it felt…charged. 

“I know a spot without cameras,” He said, “Just say the word.” 

Before you could answer, Whitney’s voice cut through the room. “What are you two whispering about, huh? Plotting something?” 

You pulled away from George and turned to face her. “There’s nothing we can do now. No point stressing.” 

“Oh, sorry for interrupting your little make-out session,” Whitney scoffed. “Some of us are actually trying to win.”

Rolling your eyes, you spoke without thinking–too tired and done to filter your words. “At least I’m trying to save money for someone to win.” 

“What was that?” Whitney shot back. You two have surely butt heads more than anyone else so far. “Just ‘cause Mandi said you’re the most boring one here doesn’t mean you can start acting sassy.”

George scoffed. “Okay, that’s not fair, Whitney. What the hell was that?” 

“It’s fine,” you whispered just to him. “This isn’t worth a fight.” 

You’d met girls like Whitney before. Sweet, but they can be immovable when they are convinced they are in the right. Turning around, you raised your hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired. Just trying to nap.”

Cinna jumped in, trying to help you de-escalate. “Yeah, she’s been trying to nap all day, Whitney.”

That calmed her, luckily. It also gave you cover for the slip-up. 

Luckily, your distraction—or maybe your doom—arrived. PK and Uncle P walked in, looking sheepish and exhausted.

“Why are you smiling so much, man?” Mandi called out, eyeing PK’s suspiciously wide grin.

“I’m smiling ‘cause I’m nervous,” he said, his teeth nearly chattering.

Uncle P clapped his shoulder. “You wanna say it, or should I?”

“Together,” PK said.

You instinctively leaned into George again, feeling comfort despite all the things unsaid. He was always your lifeline, your comfort space. While your safety on the Inside may be up to debate, you knew you were safe with him. 

“We just wanted to make the game a level playing field,” they said, like a rehearsed breakup. “And that’s why the person we chose to eliminate is…”

You braced yourself. 

Whitney, maybe, due to her spending habits and temper. Farah could be an option, as she hasn’t gotten along much with PK or Uncle P until earlier today. 

“Mandi.” 

Your jaw dropped. 

The silence was deafening—until Whitney gasped, “Oh my god.”

“Snakes!” Mandi was on her feet, storming toward PK. “You are a snake! A two-faced, lying—”

You jumped up, joining the rest of the girls who were quick give her a hug once she slowed down. George, unfortunately, got swept into the hug too.

“You okay?” you asked, joining the rest of the girls (and George) around her.

While Mandi and you have had one or two minor disagreements, you actually enjoyed her company. She was honest (for the most part) about her spending, she was funny, and she brought people together. You were going to miss her. 

She sighed. “It’s alright. I know it is. But just... don’t trust anyone, okay?”

As she and most of the girls disappeared to pack, George asked to stay back. And you agreed, wanting to check in on the most tempered person on the Inside. 

George turned to Uncle P. “Hey, you alright?”

Uncle P sighed. “It’s tough, sending someone home. We really were just trying to balance the teams. And yeah… she was a big spender.”

George nodded. “No, I completely understand the thought process.” 

That’s when you noticed George still wearing his ridiculous party hat. You reached up and toyed with the string under his chin.

“Don’t think it’s the right vibe anymore, Clarkey,” you teased.

He laughed, pulling it off fast. “Yeah… this feels wrong now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone was sitting around the TV, dreading the inevitable gut-punch moment when the screen told you exactly how much money had been spent. 

“I think…” Uncle P clapped his hands together, scanning the room solemnly. Since Mandi’s elimination, the atmosphere on the Inside has changed. Even though the living room was still decked in birthday decorations, no one was celebrating…sitting in silence, hushed conversations, and a clear upset from what happened an hour earlier. 

Further exasperated as the production crew slowly brought everyone into Room 19 to relive what just happened so everyone can say their own opinions on it. 

“Let’s have a moment of silence for Mandi.” Uncle P suggested finally now that everyone has returned from their confessionals. 

“Nuh-uh,” Whitney cut in, shrugging him off as if she was offended. “We’re not doing that! What are you even suggesting?” 

PK looked like he’d seen a ghost, visibly shrinking into the couch, clearly still haunted by Mandi screaming at him earlier. He’s being smart enough to stay out of saying anything else incriminating. 

Thankfully, the argument hit pause as the number on the screen dropped.

673k. 

“No fucking way,” you muttered. Nearly a 90k drop. 

Whitney, of course, didn’t even blink. “We’re not doing a moment of silence—that’s a piss take,” she declared, brushing off the prize fund like it meant nothing. Maybe because at least 30k of that money was spent on her five-minute decision. “And Mandi? She’s a good vibe. We’re not gonna act like Mandi is a Dylan.”

You froze.

You were so fucking tired of the Dylan jokes.

Apparently, George was too.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” he asked sharply, sitting forward. “That’s mean.”

Your heart kicked up a beat. George was someone who liked to stay out of confrontation, but he wasn’t scared to call someone out when they’re doing something wrong. It’s one thing, among many, you admired about him; his strong moral code. And that is exactly how you knew Whitney had genuinely fucked up, and it wasn’t just you being close to Dylan. 

“We’ve been taking the piss out of Dylan all day, but why? What’s he actually done to any of you?”

Whitney scoffed, “It’s not a mean thing to say. Let’s clear this mean girl narrative the two of you are trying to spin.” 

“We’re not spinning anything,” George snapped, his voice becoming sharper. “But what the fuck is that language?”

She just shrugged, indifferent as ever. “Mandi added to the vibe. Dylan didn’t. It’s not personal.”

“It is personal,” George spoke fast and deliberately. “I know jokes happen, I’m not dumb—I’ve made a few myself. But you could’ve said literally anything else. Instead you chose ‘Mandi’s not a Dylan’? That’s just unnecessary.”

Whitney raised a brow, and smirked. “Oh, I’m sorry—didn’t realise you were going to defend the guy who asked your girlfriend out. Didn’t realise you were into being a cuck.”

You stood to your feet now. 

That was it.

George didn’t deserve this. 

“No. Whitney, no. I know we’ve had our disagreements, but that? That’s not it.” Your voice shook with frustration. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re sweet. And yeah, you’re fiery. And I admire that, but fire doesn’t give you the right to burn people down.”

The room was dead silent now, not quite expecting this full-on outburst from you. 

The only thing stopping you from being face-to-face to her was George remaining seated, keeping the two of you planted in your corner. 

“George has been nothing but kind to you, even when you didn’t deserve it. Dylan? He’s done nothing but support this group. Hell, he even earned us back 10k. You don’t have to like everyone here, but we have to work together and respect each other.”

No one moved. It felt like the whole room was holding its breath.

Whitney didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. The look on her face was enough…something you’d describe as a mix of a bruised ego and something that was akin to guilt. 

Then, from the corner of the couch, Uncle P exhaled loudly and stood up.

“Aight, enough.” he said. “Look. We all got our friends, and we all got people we don’t click with. Not everyone’s gonna mesh—and that’s cool. But especially here? With cameras, competition, money, pressure? It turns people inside out. I’ve seen some of my kindest teammates say and do shit they’d never dream of because of the heat of the game.”

He looked straight at Whitney. “But just remember: there’s a line between banter and disrespect. And once you cross it, no amount of jokes can walk it back. And that doesn’t just make you look bad, it hurts people who don’t deserve it.”

He let that sit.

“You don’t gotta be besties with everyone,” he added. “But treating people like they’re disposable? That’s not fire. That’s just cold.”

The room was dead silent. Then Uncle P gave a quick nod towards the dining table. “Anyway. I’m going to get some more cake. Anyone want to join?” 

“I wasn’t trying to throw him under the bus,” she muttered, eyes trained somewhere between the wall and her nails, as people started to disperse around the room. “It’s not that deep.”

“It is that deep,” You didn’t miss a beat. “You just didn’t think anyone would call you on it.” And especially George. But, you also know him. He’s someone who wouldn’t let shit pass. 

Whitney didn’t respond to that. But she didn’t argue again, either.

Instead, she sank back into the couch, quieter than usual. 

While guilt overcome you about saying the wrong thing or potentially overreacting, the later support from George, Milli, Cinna, Farah, Jason, Uncle P,  and DDG was enough to remind you that you did the right thing. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The note taunted you from the nightstand, scrawled in JJ’s unmistakable handwriting:

“We combined your beds to make sleeping easier for you two while you were tied up…sleep well xoxox. 

P.S. There’s a condom in the top drawer, if you need it.’ 

And yet, as you two laid in the dark–your ankle tied to George’s, his hand barely brushing yours, and the freezing cold chill throughout the room–that stupid note was the least of our problems.

You were hyper aware of everything…the rise and the fall of his chest, the warmth radiating off his skin, and the weight of all the words you hadn’t said. 

The room was quiet now…finally. After the emotional circus of the day, everyone had finally passed out. 

Even Whitney, who had muttered a rushed and vague apology to you and George before lights out. 

(It was as if she was tired herself, and just registered what she said. You didn’t bite back, and instead, you thanked her. You know she was close to Mandi, she was likely reeling from the news. But that still didn’t excuse the disrespect on Dylan.)

You turned slightly, careful not to wake the others, to face George. His curly mullet fell back onto the pillow, messy as if he’s ran his hand through it a dozen times. 

“George?” You whispered, checking if he was awake.

A low hum. He was awake.

“Two people went home today.” It could’ve been him. 

He hummed again. You weren’t sure if he was half-asleep or just waiting for you to say more. 

You rolled back onto your back. The rope tugged gently at your ankle, a quiet reminder that you couldn’t escape this, even if you wanted to. And to be honest, you didn’t. You’re tired of swallowing all these words down. 

“I don’t want you to go home,” you whispered. 

While you were willing to go home, you wanted George to come back with that prize fund. To support his sister. That’s what he came for, and you know he deserves nothing less. Yes, you came to win too, but you’ve won enough of the Sidemen’s challenges this last year.  

He turned toward you, his blue eyes staring into the side of your face. “I don’t want you to go home either. I don’t want to be here without you.”

Something in your chest burst. Testing the waters, you reached out and carefully threaded your fingers through his. He didn’t move away.

“Are we okay?” you asked, trying to stop your voice from cracking–although it failed. 

George didn’t answer right away. Just a shrug, subtle but intentional. “You tell me.”

You sat up slowly, glancing around the room—everyone else was out cold. He followed your lead, but his eyes remained trained on you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned. “What’s going on?”

You tucked your hair behind your ears, suddenly shy under the weight of everything between you. “Would you be ready for a chat now?”

A pause.

Then, without a word, George nodded.

You both quietly stood, making your way toward the door, the ankle rope tugging gently between you. You whispered a request to a production assistant monitoring the set, asking if you could get some air on the roof, at the spot everyone who vapes goes during the shoot—just for a few minutes.

They nodded, eyes tired, already pulling a walkie to confirm with security. 

For safety as you go up the stairs, they untied your ankles and removed your mic packs.

And just like that, for the first time since the challenge, you and George were free to move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night air bit at your skin, but it felt easier to breathe up here than there. Away from the cameras, away from the drama, and away from everyone else’s noise. 

Right now, it was just you and him and the silence between you, thick with everything you hadn’t said. 

George sat on the bench, elbows on his knees, watching you like you might run…again. You leaned against a giant plant pot, arms crossed tight over your chest, trying to hold yourself together. 

The silence wasn’t peaceful, but heavy. Unforgiving. And you knew, he wouldn’t be the one to break it. It had to be you. 

You exhaled, “I’ve been pretending it didn’t happen. “Like everything’s fine. Like that night was just…a blip. But I still remember the way you looked at me, and…” 

His jaw twitched, but he didn’t interrupt, even as you trailed off into silence. He was going to let you speak. Grounding himself, his hands curled tighter around the edge of the bench.  

“It’s not fine. I can’t keep pretending. I’ve tried to act like nothing’s changed…but it has, hasn’t it?” You were scared to look him in the eye, to see his answer, so your eyes remained on the ground. “I can’t go back to being your friend and pretending not to hurt every time you look at me like that.” 

Silence.

He didn’t look away.

And it made everything ache worse.

Facing your fears, you looked down at him; his blue eyes that you used to be able to read so well were suddenly unreadable. 

“I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, George, longer than I even admitted to myself.” You confessed, voice cracking. “But by the time I thought I should say something…it was too late. Chris was talking about your Hinge profile and these girls you’d bring home from the pub, and…I thought I missed my chance.” 

He let out a dry laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying to hide something deeper. 

You panicked. He didn’t feel the same. Is that why he was laughing? Maybe that night was a mistake for him. He’s laughing because I’m being ridiculous. Within the millisecond, a thousand of your worst fears seemed to come to life in your mind. 

“If I’d known you liked me, I wouldn’t have touched that app. Jesus.” He finally looked up at you, eyes burning. And warmth spread throughout you, the butterflies in your stomach erupted. “I went on them because I thought I didn’t stand a chance with you.”

You took a step closer, voice trembling, and decided to tell-all. “I thought you didn’t want me. And I didn’t want to risk us. You were–hell–you are my safe place. I can’t stand the idea of losing that.”

“But you already pulled away,” he said, standing now, voice raw. “I called. I texted. And you ignored me. Were you really going to leave in the dark for a week?”

You laughed nervously, wanting to shrink into yourself. Out of guilt, out of shame, out of regret. “I thought we both said we were on off-the-grid family trips, remember?” He didn’t look quite impressed by your answer. “Honestly, I wanted to buy myself a week to figure this out…alone. I haven’t had a day without you since we met. And I was scared I didn’t know who I was without you. I needed to remember I could figure it out alone. And mainly, I thought we both wanted space.” 

His voice cracked. “Well, I didn’t want space. I wanted you. I was ready to talk. I needed to talk, and you disappeared.” 

You looked down, ashamed. “I didn’t know how to face you. Because if I said it out loud—if I told you how I felt—and you didn’t feel the same… I couldn’t come back from that. It would’ve broken me.”

You thought of all your movie nights, your friendships with Chris and Arthur and heck, even the Sidemen. This wasn’t a light crush you could forget about, this could impact everything and implode everything that was normal in your life. 

“I do feel the same,” he said, stepping forward, like the words were waiting to explode. “I’ve felt the same for so long. You think I would’ve kept calling if it didn’t matter? I was losing sleep over you, and you were acting like we never happened.”

Your voice broke. “I just… I didn’t want to ruin everything.”

His hand found yours, gently, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. It was warm, compared to the cold air hitting you. “Then let’s not ruin it. Let’s start something. Because I can’t go back to pretending I don’t want more.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. “I don’t want to pretend either.”

He brushed your hair from your face, the gesture so soft and so familiar it made your throat ache. “Do you think we won’t work out?”

“I don’t want to think that,” you whispered. “I was scared to risk it. But now... I think you’re worth the risk.”

A slow smile tugged at his mouth. “You’ve always been worth it to me.”

A silence. A beat. Your breath hitched and your heart thumping. 

You smiled back. “Then make the move.” 

He kissed you then—slow, tender, warm, but most of all, certain. Not testing the waters, but like he knew. Like he has been waiting. His hand curled around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head like he was scared you’d disappear again. Forget the cold air of the night, you had George to warm you up. You kissed him back, your fingers tangled in his curly hair, trying to tell yourself this wasn’t a dream. 

When you finally pulled away, your breath was still caught in your throat.

“You’re such a silly goose for thinking I didn’t have feelings for you,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. You let out a breathless laugh, your arms wrapped around his neck. 

“So what now?” You asked hesitantly, tilting your head to stare straight into his blue eyes–something you’ve been stopping yourself from doing since Day 1 on the Inside. 

“Well, what do you want?” He asked, nudging you slightly. 

“I want you.” You said, without hesitation. Without question. Without concern. 

He let out a breath, the kind you only let go when you’ve been holding it in too long. “Then that’s all I needed to hear.” Smiling, he said your full name, slowly, like each syllable mattered. “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

Your breath hitched, heart pounding like it was about to leap out of your chest. 

So you didn’t answer, at least not with words.

You just kissed him again—firm, passionate, smiling against his mouth—and this time, it wasn’t to test the waters. 

It was to say yes. To him, and to everything that once scared you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[svnscape]

special chapter 29 - welcome to NCTU second year edition (part two)

cw: heavy drugs and alcohol, addiction, substance misuse

———————————————————————

mark tosses the phone as it bounces on the couch with a soft thudding sound, earning the attention of haechan who was spread on the floor, a freshly rolled joint between his lips.

“yo pass me that”

“no. i’ve seen you go through three of them earlier and to be honest i’m really enjoying this” haechan rasps out.

“ugh fuck you” mark stands up to look through his drawer for any last bit of weed to calm down his nerves and to soothe him out of this stress he’s constantly feeling.

“rolled the last bit by the way. you go through them so fast we might need johnny to keep them coming” haechan laughs between a fit of coughs, rolling on his stomach to watch mark.

“fuck!” mark grunts and closes the drawer with such force it bounces of the wall and back on his hip, making him wince in pain.

haechan carefully watches his friend run a hand through his hair, gripping it and probably managing to rip a few strands from it, as he settles right back down on his bed, elbows placed on his thighs as his head falls to his hands.

“mark? you okay?” haechan sits straight as he starts to worry, watching how mark’s breathing is starting to get quicker.

mark huffs out a frantic “yeah yeah” as he stands up and leaves haechan alone in his room, without a single word.

———————————————————————

“maybe you should talk to haechan” jaemin says between multiple bites of the sandwich trapped between his hands.

jeno watches him as he continues eating right in front of him, a nervous leg bouncing up and down in response as he can’t find the right words to describe his worry and thoughts.

“jen?”

“mhm yeah maybe.. i don’t know. i mean he’s probably noticed and i- everybody knows about mark history”

jaemin swallows his food as he sets down the messy sandwich on his plate, clapping his hands to get rid of the excess flour,

“yeah but trust me, haechan still thinks mark can handle himself. i mean i do too since, and very respectfully, he should know his limits and i don’t think it’s haechan’s responsibility neither it’s yours by the way. but if you’re so worried about him you could try telling haechan to tone it down in front of mark” jaemin retorts, his overly animated face manages to calm down jeno’s nerves, even for just a little bit.

“i’m scared it’ll just make mark go harder with all of this. you know tiptoeing around him and acting like he’s some kind of victim”

“he is. he’s an addi-”

“okay jaemin stop it.” jeno winces.

jaemin closes his eyes, eyelashes floating on his cheeks before he sets a comforting hand on jeno’s,

“sorry. i know this a very sensitive subject for you too but i think you should start thinking of getting him some help if it’s scaring you this much. you’ve seen how him spiraling looked like, we don’t know the extent of the damage as good as you do and most importantly we don’t know how bad he has it and how bad looks like on him. so if anything and if it goes south, just tell us and we’ll help”

“yeah” jeno sighs, stretching his back on the cafeteria’s chair with a loud grunt “maybe i’m overthinking it because it happened before. i should trust him he’s old enough to take care of himself”

“you’re a good friend jeno” jaemin smiles, lunging forward to pinch jeno’s cheek.

“ugh stop it” jeno manages to crack a smile and even blushes a little bit when jaemin gives him his famous wide smile that makes his heart beat faster.

“it’ll be alright jen”

———————————————————————

it was not alright.

mark was barely coming to the frat as he stayed god knows where.

but jeno knew where he was.

he was with his new infatuation.

you.

he noticed that his drinking got much worse but his creativity was reaching spaces he never thought it would.

and jeno knew it was all thanks to you.

although he wished you’ve noticed it differently, meaning that mark would have to turn it down a little bit.

the drinking and the drugs you know

but you didn’t say much and neither did anybody which killed jeno inside.

he was watching his friend slowly falter away as he burned himself in music and in you.

he started to slowly and deeply regret introducing you both as he saw your eyes slowly question if this was the real mark that jeno had spent countless of nights praising and laughing about the memories he’s shared with him.

and this is when he also started to regret not mixing his friend groups because maybe it would’ve meant that everybody else would have noticed the way mark had slowly started to loose himself.

maybe it meant that jeno wouldn’t have to carry alone, the burden of mark’s struggles and attempts to use substances as a fuel to keep on writing and chasing that lifelong dream of his.

jeno felt himself slowly falter away with mark as he’s started questioning where this was going to.

would he stop when his career would start ? or when you notice the extent of his addiction ? or when anybody else starts to act right in front of him so he can finally notice that he’s slowly turning into his old self ? was jeno supposed to do something about all of this ? should he warn you ? should he warn his other friends ? should he call for help so they can take mark away ?

is he supposed to watch his friend slowly disappear and sabotage every single good thing in his life ?

well, i guess only time will tell.

———————————————————————

“you’re coming tonight? didn’t you say you were staying at y/n’s to make up for missing last week’s date?” jeno asks mark as he was switching from a shirt to another, his disheveled state in complete contrast with the way he was humming to some random soft and very well constructed melody.

“huh? uh no, i’m too nervous to stay with her right now, kinda need to loosen up during this party before my meeting tomorrow” mark flashes jeno a quick smile as he finally settles into an outfit.

“will you be able to party then make it to your meeting? ma-”

“what the fuck are you hinting at jeno?” mark hisses as he turns around to face a worried jeno.

“you’re always either drunk or hi-”

“not this again!”

“mark pl-”

“no! no! i’m fine! i told you i was! are you jealous or something? because i’m finally gonna get to start doing what i actually enjoy instead of burying myself in a useless stem degree? is that what is it?” mark barks out, getting closer to jeno with a menacing look, a look jeno started to recognize.

“are you listening to yourself right now? i’m your biggest fan and supporter. i want this for you mark! just not this way”

“nobody understands me” mark mutters to himself, looking completely lost and dazed.

“ma-”

“shut up! just stop! i’ll see you tomorrow maybe”

*************************************************

haechan was about to take his phone out to text mark as the music starting pumping inside of the sigmaphi’s common room, when he feels a cold hand settle on his shoulder.

“yo lee haechan!”

“johnny—” he smiles as he recognize his old frat brother who’s freshly graduated, another tattoo added to his collection and his signature joint stuck to his lips as he smiled down on him.

“how have you been? biochem nerd”

haechan giggles, feeling a bit flustered as johnny has now put his whole arm around his shoulders,

“i’m fine, you know the usual. trying to keep my first place in our batch, not easy when you have a head strong person coming for your throat”

“ooo nerdy sex?” johnny chuckles.

“ew no, i don’t even know who it is, i just apparently have some competition”

“well you could’ve been so far away from that if you’ve just accepted the labels’ offer”

haechan’s face twists in confusion as he sees johnny turn his head a little bit to greet jaehyun, who’s taken his place as head of the house.

“w-what?”

“two major labels were interested in you and then poof, you just left them cold like that” johnny shakes his head slowly, as he hugs haechan closer to him.

“i- i never did that”

“it’s okay dude, you can say you regret it. even if it’s too late now, everybody’s eyeing mark now even though he lowkey fucked up but” he shrugs “not my problem anymore. he’s getting signed tomorrow i think, apparently he has a meeting with this huge label from ch-”

“wait. can you like elaborate i’m so confused right now” haechan detaches himself from johnny’s grip to stand right in front of him.

“are you drunk?” johnny laughs before he clears his throat “whatever. mark told dad that you weren’t interested in getting signed and didn’t take music seriously. dad was so bummed though cause he thought you sounded way better than mark for some of the songs but you know i get it, you’re a ner-”

“okay thanks. i’ll see you later”

“yo ha-”

haechan doesn’t bother to turn around to look at johnny as he was calling his name.

he was fuming.

but most importantly.

he was hurt.

he was so fucking hurt he felt like he could cry if he saw mark’s face right now.

which he did, not even a few minutes later. his dark locks moving in sync with the music that seemed to drop in volume as haechan’s frustrated and deeply betrayed feelings clouded his mind.

he felt the tears stream down his cheeks but he couldn’t even bring himself to wipe them down and thanked the darkly dimmed room for that.

haechan thought he was mark’s close friend.

so close they sometimes even slept in the same bed together.

shared so many moments together, sober or not.

haechan felt for mark, deeply, and this is how he was rewarded?

one would think that haechan was overreacting as truthfully, he never thought of music as a serious career for him.

but it’s not that.

it’s mark sabotaging him and lying to him. it’s mark thinking he couldn’t be himself with haechan and tell him the truth.

that’s what had haechan harshly wipe away his tears and walk so fast towards mark, almost knocking out a poor freshmen on the way.

this is what had haechan grab the first cup of whatever the hell alcohol it was, to shove it down mark’s hand with the biggest betrayal fueled smile he could get out, knowing damn well what this was gonna do.

“let’s get fucked up tonight”

or maybe more like,

“let me fuck you up tonight”

prev — m.list — next

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a/n: backstory revealed… what do you all think

gonna be honest: this was very fucking hard to write. i had planned for this every since the idea of the smau popped in my head but writing it is a totally different thing from “imagining it”.

college is beautiful and fun but can get dark so quickly and i wanted to talk about this in hopes that if anybody is going through something similar or has known someone that is, to know that there’s always help somewhere and it’s not a sin to struggle with this, it could happen to anybody.

sorry if this was way too heavy and if this is not something you wanted to read or be associated with your interests.

as usual, you can reply or send me anything (as my asks are always opened) if you have feedback or any questions about this chapter or the characters in general as i do know that i didn’t delve too much into their backstory because i didn’t want to make it so long. so if you have something you want to know more about, just ask me and i’ll gladly reply!

thank you for reading!!

[gatheringbones]

[“Kai Cheng: Oh yes, this could be a book on its own (laughs). Yeah, I mean, the harm, it could be a book because it’s vast. The harm of the binary right? And it is sort of just the same harm as the binaries that you mentioned that we’re so good at naming. We’re good at naming that the gender binary is harmful and the biological sex binary is harmful. Why? Because it erases people, it dehumanizes them and at its extreme, which we have seen many times in history, that the binary also then gives way to excuses for heinous actions on the part of the medical complex or the police complex or the justice, the supposed justice complex, and binaries have been used like that for many, many, many years to various extremes. And they can’t all be compared because they’re not all comparable but when we start to sort people into binaries, we start to dehumanize because we lose individual context. And it’s a very kinda slidey scale there when we attach moral worth to a certain part of a binary, like maybe males are better than females, or maybe straight people are better than queer people, that moral attachment really quickly becomes, then maybe all those other people who are not that valuable maybe they should disappear, or just shut up, or become subservient, like all these kinds of things.

So I want us to talk about his carefully because it requires care. The binary of good and evil, or like pure and problematic, those binaries, they do that same thing. I get why we need them or why we want them. I was just talking about values and integrity, standing in your values, and it’s so hard to stand in our values in this confusing, horrible, violent world, traumatic world. And there’s biological reasons for this too, like our brain becomes attenuated to this black and white thinking, this quick sorting, who’s a friend, who’s a foe. It becomes very tempting and in some cases very strategic to say I am just going to write this category of people off. Anybody who’s problematic they’re never going to harm me again, that’s sort of where that comes from, they are never going to hurt me again. And I’m super sympathetic to that, but we lose the context and we start to lose our discernment and that discernment is if we’re always saying that we’re going to get rid of all the problematic people, what’s going to happen when we are problematic? Well we’d have to be gotten rid of, so then we develop a complex around well, I can never be problematic.

And this is where all kinds of weird, bizarre, painful stuff can happen, our collective delusion that anyone could ever be pure, like politically pure, or not harmful. Being a human is to harm others. I harmed something today by eating a hamburger, right? It is just, that is part of our existence, that we hurt others. It’s not a good thing but we have to admit it and it is so difficult to do that work of integrating that reality that we lash out at others. And then there is lot of writing about this, I’m probably going to get cancelled just for saying this but Sarah Schulman writes about this mentality in “Conflict is Not Abuse” when she is focusing on the Israel/Palestine conflict/occupation. The idea that having suffered horrible, horrible ancestral trauma and social violence and genocide could justify a colonization of another indigenous peoples, right, that’s sort of where this binary starts to take us. And yeah, I’m not there for it. And the last binary you mentioned is the survivor/perpetrator dynamic and that’s the one that requires the most care, at least I think it does, as it’s so sensitive.

And I want to be clear, there is a lot of really shitty ways that my work and Sarah Schulman’s work and Porpentine Charity Heartscape’s work, anyone who is writing about nuance, and conflict, and transformative justice even adrienne maree brown, there’s many kinds of way this work could be used to delegitimize survivor’s truth and I hate that, I’m not there for it. There’s so many ways that any rhetoric can be used to deflect real accountability or honesty, and that’s disgusting, I hate it. But it’s also a truth, we can hold more than one truth at the same time, that being human is to harm and as Mariame Kaba says, “no one is introduced to violence as a perpetrator.” No one is introduced to violence as a perpetrator. So when we start to ask ourselves the question, how do we end violence? Actual, I just don’t believe it is a functional answer to say, we’re just going to get rid of the violent people. That’ll just be this endless cycle of trying to get rid.

We have to start talking about why do we do violence, and what does it look like when we do violence, how can we tell the truth about that? And that is so much messier than there is a group of predatory people who are all evil and they’re just hiding among us, waiting for the opportunity. The truth is that that harmful being is usually someone lashing out in their own attempt to survive, often misguided attempt to survive. And the only way we’re going to not have that problem in such a present way is to ask what is it that we need to survive and then make sure everybody gets that.”]

[kyehwas]

eenie meenie miny mo ft. kim hongjoong

-> or, hongjoong decides he wants someone and chooses you to be totally real s/o.

|| wc + warnings || 0.87k / gn!reader, fake dating, old man joong is real y/n keeps getting interrupted sorry queen

“Are you dating anyone yet?” Kim Hongjoong dreaded that question. He had no one, unlike all his friends. He didn't want that anymore.

“No, I actually found someone quite recently!” He shouldn't have lied. But at the same time, maybe it took him to the best road at the end.

“Oh, that's great! Could I meet them next month? That's when my wedding will be, as you know, and I'd love to see your plus one!” Shit.

“Yeah.. of course.” Hongjoong forced a smile, and that's when he knew he was screwed. He needed to find someone to cover for him, and fast.

Like any other person, to Facebook he went. It would seem odd, he knew, but he had no better idea. He found people near his area, and moved his finger around until it was held on some random person's profile.

“Y/n L/n,” He began to read the description, and once he finished, he knew exactly who his partner would truly be.

♡ — — — — ♡ — — — — ♡

“Did your phone just buzz?” Your friend asked. 

“Yeah, think it did,” You replied, checking the notification. “Y/n L/n is now in a relationship with Kim Hongjoong… I am?”

“You are?” You had no idea who Hongjoong is, nor why he set his status as dating you.

“Yeah Hwa, I just hope it works, y'know? I'll dm them later and see,” A man said to his friend, who nodded. Just a moment earlier, in the restaurant parking lot, Hongjoong forced his best friend Seonghwa to hype him up so he could actually set his status.

“Hey, isn't that them?” The friend said, gesturing towards you.

Both yours and Hongjoong's eyes widen. In a moment of courage, Hongjoong stole a seat right next to you, and his friend sats down after.

“So, y/n,” He took your hand, and you don't remove it. You have really nice hands, he notices, but doesnt dare to utter out loud. “I have a wedding I need to go to next month, you wanna be my plus one?”

“He was too pussy to tell his cousin that he had no plus one so he chose someone random off of Facebook,” Seonghwa translated, and you had to stifle a laugh.

“That makes so much more sense,” You and your friend grinned at each other, “So, Hongjoong, tell me a little more about yourself?”

And so he did. You and him talked for the entire time, and you were starting to think that this entire fake dating thing wouldn't be all too bad.

♡ — — — — ♡ — — — — ♡

“So, who are they?” One of Hongjoong's cousins points to the person whose waist he's holding. Aka, yours.

“This is y/n,” He says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. He had warned you earlier that he would be physically affectionate with you to convince his relatives, but it still took you off-guard.

“Yeah, nice to meet you! Hongjoong is a great guy, I'm happy to finally meet his family!” You smile at them, and they all smile back at you.

“Can we talk for a second, y/n?” Hongjoong drags you to a secluded area of the venue. “Are you… really okay with this?”

Though you didn't want to admit it, you maybe, just maybe had a crush on the man. “Yeah, I am! Hongjoong, I-”

“Joong, dude, come here! The food here's great!” His brother calls, and interrupts your little confession.

“Fuck, I'll tell you later,” You mutter, semi-disappointed.

Throughout the ceremony, Hongjoong can't rid his mind of what happened. What were you going to tell him? God, he was such a loser.

“Y/n.” Hongjoong grabs your hand firmly, trying his best to keep his voice from trembling.“Hm..?”

“What were you going to say? Y'know, earlier?” He feels his hands starting to sweat. 

“Well,” You dart your eyes away from him, “So, I don't think this is fa-”

“We're doing the bouquet catch, you should come, y/n!”

You sigh loudly again. One time wasn't that bad, but a second one? “Sorry, I'll tell you later, dear.”

Hongjoong's heart skips a beat at the pet name. He’s down bad. Him and his heart watch as you catch the bouquet, and he feels it stop as you run straight to him, bouquet at all.

“I did it! I did i-!” Hongjoong grabs your face and slams his lips against yours. It's clumsy and unorganized, but you could tell he meant every feeling that went into it.

“I need you,” His words are swallowed by your lips, but he doesn't mind. Not when it's you. 

“Need you too,” You exhale, discarding the bouquet to hug him, “That's what I've been trying to tell you. That I love you. I don't want this relationship to be fake.”

“Then let's make it real. Can I be your boyfriend?” His gaze is soft as he awaits your response.

“Yes,” You finally answer, kissing him once more, “But Hongjoong? Why did you use Facebook in the first place? I have it to talk to my grandparents, but what about you?”

“Heh,” Hongjoong shrugged, “I just have it downloaded.”

“Old man.”

“I'm your old man though.” He laughs, squeezing you in an embrace. Who knew the best matchmaker site was actually some random old person website?

[setsunox]

budding

[peak-dumbass]

I know I just got done with ranting about tfp/rid2015 starscream’s character but, if you couldn’t tell by my other rid2015 posts, I’m obsessed with rid2015 bumblebee and when I tell you I love this scene of bumblebee making fun of starscream I’m not exaggerating it’s so cathartic to me

“But bumblebee is a good/hero character, why is he being so mean—” did you forget how much starscream hurt bumblebee in tfp?

He killed cliffjumper who, while probably not as close to bee as he was to arcee, was still close friends with bee

He stole the omega keys from the autobots’ base and handed them over to megatron, practically dooming Cybertron at the time to be remade in megatron’s image — of course the autobots get them back last minute, but that doesn’t change how much that loss effected all of them (evidence: optimus shouting in anger for the first and to my memory only time in the series) — including bumblebee

And his greatest offense towards bumblebee in my opinion—

DESTROYING BUMBLEBEE’S T-COG

“But it was silas and M.E.C.H. that took it in the first place—” HE DIDN’T NEED TO HELP SILAS USE IT AFTERWARDS “but Ratchet was able to fix it—” THAT DOESN’T GET RID OF THE TRAUMA THAT WHOLE EXPERIENCE CAUSED HIM

It’s also incredibly fucked once you think about it more because the t-cog is literally a cybertronian organ — while silas is at least mostly detached from how screwed this is since it’s more like taking parts from a robot than surgery to humans, starscream shouldn’t be since he’s also a cybertronian

Instead of being freaked out and recognizing how messed up silas’ actions are like any rational bot would, he helps silas make his fake-bot-that’s-using-another-bot’s-stolen-organ work by providing him with energon (the [at the time] incredibly scarce resource that helps all bots survive) and — after that plan falls through because of bumblebee finding them — he destroys the bot’s organ for no reason other than he wanted to escape and thought that was a good way to distract him

I just—I’m sorry?? I feel like bumblebee is incredibly justified for clowning on this cringefailure of a bot for what he’s done to him

And this isn’t even mentioning what he’s done against the autobots as a whole (both on and off screen) that has probably hurt bumblebee by proxy

I feel like it’d be justified if bee also killed starscream — he already got to kill the bot that destroyed his voice box, I think bee deserves another murder as a treat <3

/joking but also what if—*gets shot by tfp/rid2015 starscream fans*

[reception-unclear]

Well, I guess I should update you. I talked to Sasha and found out more about our.....squirmish visitors at the institute. We can get rid of them via extinguisher, which helps a lot. They also show up less, which doesn't help a lot. You also wanted to know about your grandfather, right? Now, I may be stretching this, but the whole thing with bugs also happened with your father, and I think it's related. Somehow. And there's something about spirals. As for me, got a promotion recently! I can't tell whether this is a good or bad thing, but hey! At least I won 20 bucks from a bet.

its pride month and i still have to deal with The Torment. I believe i deserve a break for this month alone.

[gingermintpepper]

Why did Apollo favor the trojans in the Illiad?

So, dear Anon, I've been thinking about how to answer this question since I got it a couple days ago and I think I kind of want to make something clear before I get into it.

The Iliad by itself as a poem only covers some of the events that occur in the final year of a long protracted conflict that had been brewing for at least two decades and was an active war for ten. Within the space of the Iliad itself, the motivations and affairs of the major players are often referenced but there are many, many parts of the story that are not there because they belong to a different story cycle that has been since lost or was never recorded with words. In the space of the Iliad Apollo's motivations are questioned a lot - his pride is questioned by Poseidon who thinks Apollo should be just as angry at the Trojans as he considering Apollo was treated equally as poorly by Laomedon while they worked together. His honour is questioned by Hera who chastises him for taking the Trojans' side when he'd proclaimed that Achilles would live a long life and prosper at Thetis and Peleus' wedding. His own sister calls him a coward for refusing to fight when Zeus gives permission for the gods to go wild on the battlefield. For all that there's this image of Apollo in the Iliad as some staunch and unwavering protector of the Trojans, believe it or not, I largely think of Apollo as neutral in the war.

Which, I suppose, comes back to the question - why did Apollo favour the Trojans? The truthful answer is that I don't know. The Iliad and all its connected stories isn't something I've done enough research on to have an answer or a reference to an answer off the top of my head. The reasoning I'm aware of is that Apollo was a Patron God of Troy and really a god doesn't need any reason besides that to protect his people but it's not like Apollo abandoned the Greeks either. Calchas is the biggest example of that I can point to - descended directly from a priest of Apollo and one who attributed his mantic power to the god, Calchas was pivotal in ensuring the Greeks even got to Troy in the first place.

From a personal perspective however, I think Apollo was more dedicated to the house of Priam than he was the city of Troy itself. Apollo's affection for that house and all its members ran deep - from his admiration of Hecuba and Hector to his love and attempted courtship of Cassandra to his blessings given to Helenus, Deiphobos, Cassandra, Troilus and even his partnership with Paris - Apollo loved the house of Priam. When you think about the times Apollo lashes out against the Greeks, it's generally because they've done some nonsense to earn his ire. The plague was caused by Agamemnon disrespecting his priest, his aid in the slaughter of Patroclus was because he didn't respect him, his minor grudge against Diomedes too was because he tried to test Apollo's mettle and well, the less said about Achilles the better. Apart from his obvious favouring of Hector in the skirmishes, Apollo doesn't really oppose the Greeks. He has a ton of reasons to by the time the Iliad rolls around, including avenging the death of two of his sons, but he remains mostly satisfied with conducting his father's business and overseeing the war from a somewhat professional perspective. To me, it's always been less about Apollo caring about the fate of Troy as a city itself and more about him just really wanting to protect the people in the city that he's come to love and respect.

Of course, I encourage you to take my words with a big tablespoon of salt - like I said, I don't really know enough about the facts in particular to give a solid, confident answer but I can give you my interpretation of it. Maybe consult someone like @littlesparklight for a more comprehensive and grounded response 🤔

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OOH YEAH BABY ITS THE SURGERY EPISODE BABY!!! ME AND THE HOMIES NEED SOME NEW FACES FOR OUR NEW PLAN, AND WHO BETTER TO GET THE JOB DONE THAN THE TWO MOST EVIL PEOPLE WE'VE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF HAVING OUR LIVES VIOLATED BY? I MEAN IT WOULD BE FUNNY. IT WOULD BE FUNNY.

[salamispots]

hi! I don't really know if you can awnser this, but I really like fish.... but I don't know anything about them. I want to learn about them and stuff, but it seems so overwhelming!! do you have a starting point or any tips? tysm!!!!

hello fellow fish enjoyer :0 and honestly seeing a fish you like/ are curious about and researching about it (videos, articles, wiki, etc) is a good way to start!

this wiki article is another possible route/starting point I guess if you want more background; there's a few sections that talk about the different groups of fish/sea creatures (like are you interested in invertebrates or fish only, saltwater or freshwater, deep sea or coral reef fish, etc haha)

there's also museums and aquariums if you have access to them! aquarium websites will also usually have a section with what animals they have and little info blurbs about them.

blue planet 1 + 2 documentary series is also a neat watch/start as well if you don't feel like reading a lot at first!

(..actually thinking about it blue planet might've reinforced or started my deep sea fish obsession haha when I first saw it as a kid)

[litrallytyrus]

their dynamic (homosexual relationship) means everything 2 me

[fanboyzuko]

maniacal laughterrr clocking out todaay at 8:30 pm with 8.5k writtennnnnnnnn!!!! WHO AM I! whaT IS thIS! I did it all at home too. I started at like. IDFK 2pm???? I am a monster!!!! Kyoshi Island chapters have only 3 scenes left!!! I'm so excited :D

[goldbiscuit]

[softquietsteadylove]

Vibrators have been mentoined a few times, i think is time gil uses one on thena and leaves her shaking 😌.

"Don't you have a meeting?"

"Princess," Gil moaned directly into her mouth, his hands running up her back, "you think I care about that right now?"

Thena laughed, purring against him. "You might, considering our quarterly reports are upon us."

He groaned. The Ice Queen was on the top of her industry for a reason. But he was more concerned with making out with his wife than his bottom line at the moment. "They can wait."

"Sir?"

Thena pulled herself away from him at the knock on the door, not that they would enter without express permission. She smoothed down her hair and brushed off her dress, sashaying away from him with those delectable hips of hers. "You have business to do, Tyrant."

He grunted. He would just send them away--tell them to reschedule. But His beloved Ice Queen was already across the room, perching herself on the sofa that faced his desk and away from the door.

"Fine, come in."

Gil leaned back in his chair. The two accountants and one assistant scurrying in could obviously already tell he wasn't in the mood for whatever they had to say.

"Go," he waved his hand at them, although he looked over at Thena. He wasn't going to remember any of what they said, but it would be in a memo or an email or something anyway. And if he was really lucky, Thena would 'remind' him of everything they reported later.

Thena met his eye, although she was clearly amused by his lack of attention to the business portion of his 'business'.

He shrugged at her; she was the economist, he was the muscle.

"The winnings from the new pachinko you opened up are substantial. If we look at the gross margin-"

Gil sighed, leaning his chin on his fist. He wasn't absorbing any of this, and he likely couldn't even if he was trying. He watched as Thena rolled her neck, stretching herself after their hasty make out session. That long, pale, sensational neck...

Thena licked her lips, then stretched her arms up in the air. She was behind his associates, in view of him and him alone. She sighed, feigning some boredom.

He made a face; she was driving him nuts and she knew it.

The accountants went on, though. "However, there is the matter of Jasmine National."

"Uh-huh," Gil muttered, still not looking at them as they spoke. Not that they would dare turn to look at what he was looking at. They knew better than to take their eyes off the most dangerous man in Koreatown.

Thena arranged the long skirt of her dress, parting it at her thigh where the slit kissed just above her knees. She tilted her head at him as she crossed one leg over the other.

Gil's hand tightened around the paper under it, crinkling it hopelessly.

His accountants flinched, associating the action with their news. "B-But!--th-the stock we have in the market is currently up! And the real estate we've acquired in Jeju is set for renovation!"

"Great."

Thena uncrossed and then crossed her legs again in the other direction (minx). She arranged her dress, although she let her hand linger over her thigh before slipping through the slit and under.

Gil leaned forward, squinting to get a better look.

"We have the numbers for you, sir."

Gil almost waved at them to get further out of his way. He raised a brow as Thena leaned on her palm, angling her hips away. Her hand was snugly between those surprisingly strong thighs of hers. She wasn't...

"So, as you can see-"

"Y'know what? I don't need to see anything else!" Gilgamesh declared, slamming his hands down on his desk. "Looks great, good work, boys."

They looked amongst themselves. "But sir-"

"Out!" he barked, snapping his fingers in the direction of the door. They hesitated for just one more second, but he reached for one of his desk drawers, "now."

They wisely scurried out, closing the door behind them.

Thena watched them go, releasing a sigh once they were gone. "What a terror, you are."

"You're the terror," he muttered, retrieving what he was looking for in his desk. It was not - contrary to what his accountants had thought it would be - a deadly weapon.

Thena's jaw dropped. "You do not keep that in your desk drawer."

He grinned at her, eager to resume their business from earlier. "Never know when we might need it."

"Who is we?" she glared at him, now deciding to press her thighs together and cross her arms at him. "And what if someone happens upon it?"

"Do your employees get anywhere near your desk?" he asked her dryly, "let alone on that side of it?"

She rolled her eyes, which was as good as admitting defeat for his Ice Queen.

"Now," Gil leaned down to her, gripping the vibrator in his hand. "Lie down, you little tease. Unless you'd like to start things off yourself."

Thena continued to glare at him, even as they both reclined on his black leather sofa. "Your obsession with these things escapes me."

Gil chuckled, though, trailing the tip of the thing up her thigh before flipping her dress as far out of his way as it could go. "It's not this thing I'm obsessed with, Princess."

Thena's head lolled back and to the side as he pressed it right against her, the faint buzzing already filling the air with their hot breaths. "No subtlety."

"Like you're so subtle?" Teasing him like that? He pressed the thing more firmly against her. "Since when do you wear thongs?"

Thena bit into her lip as he managed to reach her clit with the vibrator's head. It was a similar model to the one she used at home. "Sometimes they're - ah! - the most appropriate option."

"Appropriate my ass, Ice," he growled, leaning over to kiss her cleavage. "You just like driving me nuts."

Thena let out a positively sultry sounding moan in response. The tiny little excuse for underwear she was wearing didn't resist much as he moved it out of his way to begin pushing the device into her.

"Feel good?" he pressed his lips to her neck (which she had also used to tease him). Once it was fully in her, he was able to lie over her more. He kissed her mouth, then her jaw, then her neck again, and then finally his hands were free to extract her breasts from the confines of her sparkly dress.

"Yes," she whimpered, her hips rolling as Gil pawed at her. Her hand snaked down to control it better to her standard but Gil grasped her hand with his.

"Don't be a backseat driver, Ice," he grinned against her hot flushed skin. He moved her hand with his, pumping the vibe steadily. "My little control freak."

Thena made some kind of sound of denial, although it was hard to feel intimidated by her when she was busy being so pleasured by him in the moment.

Gil leaned away from her again, moving the vibrator more quickly. He undid his belt and unzipped his trousers. "You wanna finish with this thing, or me?"

Thena moaned louder, although there was a note in her little melody that told him that she didn't appreciate the question. He paused their motion, making her moan become more of a growl.

"I said," he leaned closer to her again, pressing his hardness against her belly. "This hunk of plastic, or me?"

Thena bit her lip again. "You."

"Hm," Gil pursed his lips. He wasn't sure if she really meant that or if she was trying to save his ego. Then again, his Thena wasn't the type to assuage a man's ego for the sake of it--not even her husband's, unfortunately for him.

Who was he kidding; he loved that she had his ego under the spiky heel of her stilettos.

"Gil," Thena panted, eager to finish what they started. She rolled her hips again, but he kept her still. She looked at him, pressing her lips together. "Please, baby, just move."

He grinned. He could see why she liked him hot and begging for her all the time. It was very appealing. "Since you asked so nicely."

Gil extracted the vibrator from her gently. She expressed her frustration at the temporary emptiness he left her with, but he pressed his own tip against her, promising to remedy the situation. "Real thing is better, right?"

"Yes," she sighed as he finally pushed into her, sealing their bodies together.

Now, that, he believed. Their groans harmonized as he finally started moving, making love to his wife as intended. No matter how many times they did it - which was enthusiastically and frequently - he never got tired of the ecstasy of his wife's body.

"Gil," Thena whimpered, gripping his side and his back as soon as he was in range of her. Her legs wrapped around him too, securing him to her as if he was going to slither away.

"Fuck, Thena," he panted, already closer to the edge than he wanted to be. If anything, he was lucky he had warmed her up before diving in; he was already so turned on by her little show he was just about there.

Thena's moans joined the creaking of the sofa's frame, no matter how solidly bolted to the floor it was. Gil made a clumsy attempt to kiss her, but they both needed too much air to linger long. They gasped in puffs of each other's breath. "Right there, so close."

Thank fuck, because he was holding on for dear life. Gilgamesh let his hips drive him, his pelvis meeting hers like an animal's. The slight elevation of her hips, the bounce of her cleavage, half in her dress and half out of it, the pink blooming up her neck and into her cheeks.

His wife was a masterpiece.

Gil groaned up to the ceiling as he shot into her. He was no young buck, but Thena was not of this earth. He ground their hips together, pressing down under her naval but above the line of that devillish little thong she wore.

He didn't even know she had one.

Thena moaned with him as she too toppled over the edge in bliss. She undulated around him, coaxing more from him with each wave of her own pleasure. She drank him up just as greedily.

Gil grunted as he slipped out of her. They said they would stop doing this; working up a sweat while he was in a suit, fucking in the middle of the work day, putting their carnal needs before business.

But he really couldn't care about that when his wife was panting for air under him in all her glory.

Thena sighed as he dove into the crook of her neck, nuzzling into her with light kisses. Her fingers spread out in his hair. "Terrible, we are."

"I thought it was pretty hot."

She gave his hair a playful little tug, although it released just as fast, her body all noodly after her orgasm. "We said we'd stop doing this."

"Yeah, well, that was before my wife decided to show off her hot new panties to me in the middle of my damn quarterly."

Thena laughed; so she did know what she was doing, and she clearly thought it was hilarious, too.

Gil couldn't blame her; he joined her in her laughter. Their business wasn't exactly lighthearted, but at least he could have a good fuck and a good laugh with her about it.

Thena blinked as he kissed her again--like, scooped her up and kissed her like they were in Casablanca kissed her. She looked adorably ruffled from the sex already, but the kiss clearly woke up her senses again. "W-What was that for?"

Gil just grinned at her, unable to contain himself. And why should he? He was the luckiest man in the world, with a woman like her by his side. "A man can't be happy to make love to his wife?"

Thena's eyes dashed to the side, turning shy in the face of his unhindered love for her. She cleared her throat, pulling her dress over herself again. "Not in the office, he can't."

Gil let her pull some modesty over herself again while he shoved himself back in his pants. He also reached behind him, retrieving their little friend. Well, no, it was no friend of his; it was a tool for pleasing his wife, and that was all the respect he would give it. "I don't know if there's much we haven't done in the office, Sweetness."

Thena kneed him in the thigh as she adjusted her thong back into place. He let her retrieve his suit's pocket square to clean herself up a bit down there. She didn't look at him while she did, but she muttered, "exactly why some self-restraint might do us some good?"

Gil just shook his head with a smile as Thena stood. She tested how presentable she looked right away when they were in the office. Tested her steadiness on her feet, smoothed out her dress, combed her fingers through her hair. What a Goddess she was. "I don't know how you can expect that of me when you're this beautiful."

Thena sighed, definitely rolling her eyes at him. But she turned around and leaned down to him again, kissing him the way they ought to kiss every time--like there was no one in the world but them.

Gil leaned into it eagerly, moaning even as she leaned up and away from him again. He pouted at her.

But the Ice Queen met him grin for grin, adjusting the straps of her dress. "Don't you have a quarterly report to go over? I know you didn't listen to a thing your accountants told you."

"And whose fault is that?" he chuckled at her, finally rising from the couch, although he had to wiggle a little to get himself sitting comfortably in his pants again. She pressed her lips together to keep herself from laughing. He gave her side a playful little pinch as he kissed her cheek. "Go over it with me? We both know you'll understand what it says more than I will."

Thena followed him to his desk to pull up the reports, even as she faked a sigh, "if I must."