#i think the community more than anything needs positivity

[starstruckbyacomet]

People could like or dislike any fictional characters, even real people, as they please. No one is the regulator or the gatekeeper of that, as long as people's behaviors don't cross the lines.

BoBs hate Tommy Kinard. They even use what I think as hypocritical reasons to justify their hate, like saying how Tommy is a racist while ignoring his redemption arc in Season 2. I might respect them if they were just being honest by saying "I hate Tommy Kinard because he's the obstacle of my ship," but they weren't. So, eventhough I roll my eyes everytime I read that reason, it's still their right to do so. They don't cross the lines.

However, they cross the lines when:

they harass other people who disagree with them,

they do not use appropriate tags on Tommy bashing posts, or even use BT tags on their Tommy bashing posts,

they write negative comments about Tommy/Lou on Tommy positive posts, or even on unrelated posts.

they harass Lou and/or other casts and crews.

Those behaviors are crossing the lines between their community and our community, even between viewers and actors. They are not welcome. Their actions scream "I'm begging for attention", and it makes them look pathetic.

Similar principles apply within Bucktommy fans. A lot of us blame 118 family for not encouraging Buck to reach out to Tommy. Some of us put the blame on our fics, and that is fine. That's within our right as writers. Don't like, don't read. However, we might need to put it on the summaries/notes/tags/warnings, so readers know what's on the fics.

Some of us like Tommy more than Buck, and that is also fine. We might relate more to Tommy than to Buck, and it is our right to feel how we feel. No one has the right to regulate whom we like or dislike, or whom we can or cannot relate to.

Some of us might even only support Tommy and Buck but not other couples, or watch the show only for Tommy/Lou. It's also fine. Likewise, no one has the right to regulate who we support or not support, or why we watch the show.

If anything, it's similar with how Ryan Guzman might have refused to play a queer character. It is his right to do so. No one has the right to force him to play a queer Eddie if he didn't want to.

probably gonna ruffle some feathers with this, but i've seen quite a bit of ~discourse~ the last few days and uh, people in 9-1-1 fandom DO understand that while buck IS a main character, tommy become as popular as he is because he was the OTHER HALF of a canon male slash ship, yes? and people DO understand that, even if it doesn't apply to you, some fans are going to feel more strongly about tommy regardless of him being a side character because they relate to him more than the 30-something still trying to figure out whether he should be calling himself bisexual, yes?

"making a mountain out of a mole hill" vibes around here as of late, ngl. YOU can feel how you want about buck while acknowledging that bucktommy is what REALLY left an impact considering buck's sexuality has solely been tied to tommy thus far. (and that's why people are still pissed. because they cared about THE RELATIONSHIP.)

[angeltism]

"drama" this "[x] is so annoying" that ok what about editblr positivity . loving and appreciating the edits others make for other people to use at no cost other than some credit . "[name] is so annoying" how about who's style do you like the most . how about who's your go to to request from because you appreciate and admire their style and personality . what about that

[agirlinthegalaxy]

It's been rolling around in my brain the last few days for some reason, but I still hate the family backstory reveals for Sophie and Eliot. I've seen some of the meta for it, but quite frankly, it still makes no sense. If it had been something actually thought of and intentional in the original, I think it could have been so fascinating. I mean, Sophie's willing abandonment of Astrid to contrast with Nate's loss of Sam or Eliot's adoption in contrast with Hardison's and Parker's? Could have been excellent! But they came out of nowhere in Redemption and don't work with these characters.

Sophie was still actively using the fucking alias that she met Astrid under! She met with someone from her past on the show! Like. Quite frankly, that one is unequivocally bullshit that they made up and threw in and pretended could fit with the established canon. (And I'm sorry, but the idea of Sophie abandoning Astrid and never telling Nate about her just... So much of Nate's trauma was rooted in the loss of Sam, and I think that introducing this element after he's gone and unable to respond to it taints Sophie and Nate's relationship in a way bc I'm not exactly sure how Nate would've responded to learning about this but I think that it's something he'd have needed to know. I don't know how to fully express my thoughts on that but yeah.)

As for Eliot, I don't like the adoption aspect literally at all. The way that he would interact with his family and the memory of his family would be different, and I think that it's flat out ridiculous to think that he'd have never mentioned it to the team in the original show, especially when dealing with the kid cases. (I also dislike the biracial adoption as its own element because if Eliot was actually raised by Black parents in the... idk what 80s/90s? That just. doesn't feel congruent with how they write Eliot interacting with PoC, not necessarily in a bad way, but babe, he's written like a white southern man raised in a specific kind of culture that does not jell with that. It also makes Eliot look... really bad that he was apparently raised with the knowledge of how fucked up the military was and his parents' history and made the choices that he did.) Like the show may not have explicitly stated it but the implication of that relationship was vastly fucking different throughout the original show.

Just. These were not backstories that were congruent with their depiction and characters in the original show, and they're also just moves that I don't particularly like or find interesting directions for those characters. There's also something to be said about how it was apparently unacceptable for a woman to not have kids or someone not reconciling with their biological family when that was something that the original show handled a lot better. Out of all the directions to take Sophie and Eliot's stories, that's just not really one that I think was a good idea.

[communistkenobi]

I don’t really want to wade into discourse too much today because I know everyone is extremely miserable online rn but I think if you want to give people genuine advice on what to do politically, “join a union/get involved in your current union/organise your workplace” or “join ACORN/a tenant union/etc” is much more actionable advice than like “build community.”

the problem with “community” is that it doesn’t have the same formal infrastructure / resources / political connections / organising capacity that allows your hard work to have reach far beyond your immediate circle (which is what a union has), and also because like, “community” is an extremely vague and abstract concept that can mean anything from a local restaurant run by your neighbour to a church to your dnd friend group. Reaching out and helping your neighbours is a good thing, lots of people are having a really tough time and helping people around you pay rent or take care of their family or etc is a good thing and you should feel good doing that, but in response to the complete institutional and political failure of electoral liberalism I think the next best option is to turn towards already existing national infrastructure that can mobilise people without requiring you to individually maintain dedicated personal relationships with everyone around you. In my experience + the experience of many long-time activists that I know, relying on interpersonal connections to organise and get things done leads to highly sectarian, disorganised, toxic, and unpleasant organising conditions. The cold impersonal bureaucracy of union membership is legitimately a good solution to this problem.

there are many little positions of power available in these organisation that become open to you for as low a cost as showing up to zoom meetings. I have personally been elected to positions in various unions/orgs literally because I was someone who showed up to meetings! Nobody goes to committee meetings! You get annual budgets! You get to pass votes, organise events, spend money on organising materials! You get to buy food for people! Organising is so much easier in these spaces.

And of course, you are going to face the same ideological resistance, apathy, ignorance, incompetence, and bigotry that you would at your local queer meet-up or community neighbourhood council, and I have no illusions about the institutional limits of unions (which can also be reactionary, bigoted, highly disorganised, incompetent, toxic, and so on), but if you want to avoid completely exhausting yourself and resenting everyone around you, you don’t need to build “community” from the ground up, there are already structures out there where you can do good work. For all the resistance there is to unions and union activity, you will face that same level of resistance with local organising but have none of the power, resources, or institutional legitimacy already secured by unions

[kaijuposting]

"Saw traps for people with moral OCD" is a phrase that has embedded myself into my brain because, well, Saw traps for people with moral OCD are everywhere.

Stuff that basically amounts to...

"You have to listen to my opinions on [issue], or else you don't care about [issue]. (Constantly talks about how people like you are the absolute worst.)"

Anything that's functionally like, "you have to let me tear you down over things you can't control or you're a bad person."

Anything that's functionally like, "you have to let me vent to you whenever and however I want or else you're a bad person."

"If you enjoy X media/trope, you just hate Y people."

"Everyone knows that X thing is harmful/hateful; if you engaged in it, it's just because you were fine with perpetuating hate/harm."

"You should have just known better/should know this already!"

This thread over here talks about the inherent issues of putting this kind of stuff out there. The TL;DR is that it really only works on people who are mentally unwell and have poor boundaries, while just pissing off everyone else. It really doesn't matter if you're technically correct; you're still attacking people, and that means they're not wrong to block you.

I think that many of these Saw traps are created when people effectively write posts directed toward people who don't want to help, rather than the ones who do. Like, if you catch yourself writing an angry, shame-laden post, ask yourself: who are you writing it for and what are the odds you're going to change their minds? If your mental image is some smug fuck or angry reactionary, you're writing for the wrong person. Write for the person who's curious, who's willing to learn.

Also? Work on figuring out how to transmute negative feelings into positive, encouraging rhetoric. EG:

"Why is there no X positivity?" -> "Let's hear it for X!"

"No one cares about Y problem!" -> "Hey, we need more recognition of Y problem" or "I haven't seen many people talking about Y problem, so here's some info on what's up."

"If you don't reblog this, you don't care about [group]" -> "Please reblog this, it would mean a lot for us [group]."

And if you're really super duper frustrated and want to vent with a lot of nasty words and sentiments? Consider taking it to a private vent channel or a journal or somewhere that a stranger with moral OCD/scrupulosity isn't likely to run across it.

Remember, most people don't want to hurt anyone. More people are ignorant than malicious. People naturally want to do the right thing, so if you feel like you have to guilt them or shame them into it, there's probably a fundamental communication issue somewhere, or they simply lack the context to understand why what you're saying is so important.

[teamatsumu]

how about soft! dom xav (& rafayel if u want/can) with a shy, nervous reader?

warnings: fem!reader, smut, nsfw, swearing, soft!dom xavier and rafayel

XAVIER:

I firmly believe that Xavier is a soft dom more than anything else.

He is often unexpressive, withdrawn, and so it can be hard to tell what he is thinking or feeling. But this does not apply to you.

Xavier knows you are shy, and often get anxious. So he tries his best to communicate with you even if it is tough for him.

In bed, he can almost feel your apprehension. It hides in your tense muscles, every fiber taut and strained. He can sense your uncertainty, unsure of what to do, so he takes the lead.

He will maneuver you into a position he knows you would both enjoy, pinning you in place and making sure you are stimulated enough that all the worries dissipate from your mind until it is nothing but mush, focused only on how good his cock feels, the electricity shooting up your spine from how his thumb works your clit.

His lips are pressed close to the shell of your ear, and though he is not big on words, his moans of your name are answer enough.

“So good. You’re so good, darling.”

It’s simple words, but coming from him, they light a fire in you. They make you arch your back up to him, and Xavier hums in approval. He hooks his hands under your knees and pulls them up to your chest into a fucking mating press, until the angle has you creaming around his rapidly pounding cock.

And he will moan in tandem with you, almost as if deriving his pleasure from yours, and when he is close to finishing, he huffs in your ear about how he’s going to fill your pussy up and how you’re going to take it. Not a request, an order, and you comply enthusiastically.

Aftercare is detailed and delicate, with him running his hands over every joint he bent harshly, making sure he soothed your aches. Best believe he will run a bath for both of you to relax in as well.

RAFAYEL:

Let's establish one thing about Rafayel; he is a yapper.

He talks, and talks, and talks, and that includes bedroom activities.

During your first time, he can tell just how nervous you are, so his way of reassurance is with his words.

He’s always teasing, always sassy, but it dims when he sees your apprehension, and it is replaced with sweet encouragement, telling you just how much he loves you, or how pretty you are, or how he’s going to take good care of you.

He guides you through it, hoping that vocalizing will help you become more comfortable.

“Lay back for me baby, just like that. You look so pretty like this.”

As things start getting hotter and heavier, best believe the talking will get filthier. And his voice will get more and more broken.

“Such a pretty little pussy. Can’t believe you were hiding this from me all this time. My cock could’ve been buried in you a lot earlier if I knew.”

He guides you with gentle but firm hands into positions he knows will hit all the right angles, and while his cock has you mewling and squirming under him, his teeth nip at your jaw and neck, leaving tiny marks like he’s marking his property.

“Need everyone to know who you belong to, sweetheart. Nobody else is gonna fuck this little cunt. Only me.”

And it’s this dirty tongue and furiously pounding cock that pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you, cooing and crooning about how sexy you look and how he wants to immortalize you in a painting forever.

Aftercare is more lighthearted. Rafayel is back to his teasing, whiny self. He makes quips about how you moaned so good for him until you groan in embarrassment and try to push him away. He is undeterred though, he has ammunition to banter back and forth with you. Also, he made you cum so many times that you couldn’t even count. This man’s ego isn’t coming down to Earth anytime soon.

[postracehair]

a small request

max verstappen x reader | 2k

even world champions deserve love letters. after missing the mexico gp, you're determined to see max have a good weekend in brazil. maybe all it takes is a handwritten note.

cw: fem!reader, being in love, softness, a track-side kiss, love letters. and google translate, sorry to any dutch speakers.

a/n: was this inspired by that video from austin? yeah, it was! sue me! also, written/posted before the gp, so. no race details <3 xx

__

You miss race weekend in Mexico. It happens. You can't be there every weekend, much as you'd like to be. You're even more peeved about it after, considering you quite like Carlos and wish you had seen him earn what very well might be his last win with Ferrari. But you're mostly upset because Max, though he won't say so, could probably have used your support.

Years of experience have him calm, cool, and collected despite the team troubles. Flippant, some headlines say. Mad Max, others. But you know he's probably just tired. Tired of the media, of the FIA, of the churning conflict between him and Lando -- something you all knew was coming someday, but maybe not so suddenly. The longest season ever continues to drag and drag and drag.

"Twenty seconds was...Christ, Max," you say. You know what happened, of course. You watched what you could, saw the sharp moves around the corner and heard the radios. It never gets easier, watching him take risks like that. Usually, everyone else backs off, but McLaren can see victory on the horizon and won't let it go. You can't blame them, either of them, you just wish it was all a bit less tense.

"I know," he says, voice raspy over the connection. "I -- well, you know how I feel about it. Don't want to say anything in case the FIA is tapping my phone."

You laugh into your hand so you don't disturb the other people in the airline lounge, not entirely used to places like this, still. Max has told you over and over that it's absurd for you to spend your own money when you're coming to see him all over the world. When you told him you moved things around so you could come to Brazil, he booked you the nicest ticket, per usual.

"Oh, ha, ha," you say. "Don't give them any ideas, Mr. Community Service." You sigh. "Do you need anything? Be honest."

"Aren't you at the airport already? Your flight should be leaving in --" A pause, like he's checking his watch -- "forty minutes."

You glance up at the departures screen. He's right, but you don't give it to him so easily. "Know my schedule, do you?"

"Well, I booked your ticket, so I should think so."

"Your assistant booked it, you mean."

He hums and you picture him in his hotel room, maybe at the window, looking over the city. "I know your flight information. Don't be silly."

"I mean it, Max," you say again. "Is there anything I can do to make the weekend better?" It's a bit of a useless question and you expect him to answer with a snarky get me a new car or apply for the position of steward.

But he doesn't. He clears his throat.

"I'm just glad you're coming," he says, softly. "I've missed you."

You never doubt how Max feels about you, but he must be pretty tired to admit it like this. He's all about actions, this man. Making sure you have what you need when you're at the track, arranging your travel, remembering your schedule. He shows you how much you matter, and that's more than enough. He never wants to make you feel bad for having a life beyond being his girlfriend. And this doesn't, not really. It just makes you ache, fills your chest with the hopeless affection you've felt for him for so long.

"I've missed you, too," you reply. "But I'd like to be useful."

"Oh, I can think of a few things, then," Max says, all of a sudden all cheek. Such a boy, sometimes. A boy in love.

You can't help but laugh, face hot. "Hush, you!"

He huffs. A few beats of silence, the comfortable, well-worn kind. Sometimes, when he's halfway across the world and up late on the sim, he'll call you just to hear you breathe.

"Max?"

"I -- do you remember what you did for my birthday?"

He'd wanted something small, quiet. There was a lot of work to be done with the team but three weekends off meant you had a little time to yourselves. A few days hardly leaving his place, a dinner with some of the guys, a cake you made yourself, hand-delivered in bed. Gifts for a very wealthy man are difficult, especially since Max doesn't seem to want much.

"Oh, the pillow with my face on it?"

Max laughs. The lounge loudspeaker announces that your flight is going to board soon, so you gather your things but keep your phone wedged next to your ear.

"No, the other thing," he says. He clears his throat and summons some of that World Champion courage. "The letter."

You'd written him a fairly long love letter, thinking it would be a nice thing to carry to the races you couldn't be at this fall. It was tempting to be embarrassed about it when you gave it to him the morning of his birthday, but his cheeks had gone pink and he'd buried his face in your neck.

"Oh, that," you say. The airport is busier outside the lounge and you push your case in the direction of your gate weaving between. people.

"You could write me another, maybe."

Max is direct. He is honest, at work and at home, but this surprises you a little.

"You do know I'm about to get on a plane to see you, right?"

He huffs, and you imagine his cheeks pink, eyes bright. "You asked!"

"I'll write you another love letter, Max Verstappen," you assure him. "I'll write you a hundred."

"One is a fine start," he says firmly. "You should be boarding soon, and I've got to go to the press conference. Text me when you've landed?"

"Of course," you reply, eyes rolling though he can't see. "I'll see you soon, okay? Love you."

"Love you, liefje."

On the plane, you tear out some pages from your journal. You'd prefer to have some nice stationery like what you wrote on for his birthday, but maybe this is more romantic, more real. Making do with that you've got because he asked.

In the last one, you told him your memories of when you first met. How your stomach swooped when you made him laugh, how his blue eyes wouldn't leave your dreams. In this one you tell him about when you first realized you loved him. How absurdly early you were sure, how badly you wanted to tell him for weeks. The way you remember every second of when you blurted it out -- his face, his smile. His voice in your ear, telling you over and over, geliefde, ik houd van je, zo veel. I love you, so much.

"You're working hard on that," someone says. You look up at your seatmate, a woman a few decades older than you with a heavy accent.

You feel a little like you've been caught doing something illicit, but you just smile at her. "For my boyfriend," you tell her. "A love letter."

She flattens her palm over heart and sighs. "How lovely," she coos. "I hope he takes care of you, too."

We take care of each other, you want to say. You could tell her about how he sends you postcards from every country he goes to after you told him you like to put them on your fridge. You could tell her how sometimes you text him during his streams to make him laugh on camera. How he remembers your favorites, how he saves you his special team gear, how he sends you flowers all the time. How he likes to sit on the couch, your toes under his thigh, fingers around your ankle. How you've been learning Dutch and how he patiently corrects your pronunciation. You could go on and on and on.

"He does," you say instead.

__

The plane lands safely in Brazil, but the pilot tells you that there is no open gate and that you'll be sitting for a while. You text Max.

stuck on tarmac, will be later than expected! :(

He must be in media responsibilities still because he doesn't reply until you finally get off the plane.

go relax at the hotel. i'll see you for dinner!

You find your ride easy enough and take a deep breath. The letter you wrote on the plane feels heavy in your pocket, and you just want to see Max. To be near him again. To give him this small thing he asked for.

"Excuse me," you say to the driver. "Do you think we could go to the track, instead?"

You text Max's assistant to say you're headed there, hoping it's not too much of an inconvenience. You're told he's almost done, maybe an hour left, and when you arrive you're led to his driver rooms. His shit is everywhere, per usual. Max is quite neat except in here -- Carmen once told you that George is the same. Clothes strewn about, his race boots unlaced and left in the way, warm-up equipment in a pile. On the table are a few of his things -- his wallet, a notebook, some papers.

Wait a second. One of those papers looks...familiar. It's been folded in three, the envelope it came in nowhere to be seen. His name is scrawled on the blank side in your hand and when you tug it from the pile you can see that it's creased, the edges a little more worn than when you gave it to him a few months ago. Max Verstappen, three-time World Champion, actually carries around the love letter you wrote him. Brings it to the track. It's darling. You love him so much. You pull the new one from your pocket and set them side-by-side on the table where he'll find them.

You ask to be taken to the pit wall, please, so you can see whatever the drivers are doing on track. Some dedication, you're told. The timing ends up being perfect and you get there just as they're finishing. You lean on a gap in the barrier where, on Sunday, crew members will be holding timing signs as the drivers zip around the hot pavement. The crowd in the stands is loud, as always, and maybe you imagine it but it seems to get a little louder when you look out.

The guys are talking amongst themselves and a few of them wave at you. You spot Max as he turns away from Charles and you can't help but grin. His eyes meet yours under his cap and his entire face chances, softens, and he breaks into a jog. You lean out over the concrete ledge and meet him in a kiss that's more two smiles pressed together than anything else.

"This is a surprise," he says when he pulls away. Eyes sparkling, he shows no signs of rejoining the other drivers as they head to whatever their next thing is. Photos, probably.

"I missed you," you tell him. "I've left you something in your room."

"Oh?" He straightens the lanyard of your credentials with careful fingers.

You reach for him, palm on his cheek. His stubble tickles and he leans into it ever so slightly. It doesn't feel like there are thousands of eyes on you, not even a little.

"Yeah," you say. "As promised." Someone calls his name. "Go on, then. I'll be waiting."

He kisses you again, a quick brush of his lips on the corner of your mouth.

Later, you'll wake from your nap in the hotel room to those same kisses on your cheeks, your forehead. Max will gather you in his arms and tell you all the moments he almost told you he loved you, how he could hardly believe when you said it first. You'll tease him for how many times he's read that first letter and he'll cheekily say that's why he needs more. And you will write him more, you'll write him as many as he wants. As many as you can, for the rest of your lives.

But now, in front of thousands of screaming fans, he smiles at only you, boyish and pleased.

[imsobadatnicknames2]

ok but i need the evrart claire essay

Okay just be warned that this is gonna be less of an "essay" and more of a loose collection of thoughts, and I don't know how fresh or novel any of these ideas are going to be when it pertains to popular Disco Elysium fan discourse because I don't really do fandom, you know?

Anyway, I think the most obvious factet of Evrart's character is how he very intentionally calls to mind a caricature of corrupt union leaders, the image of a sleazy mobster who only cares about his own personal gain but pays lip service to leftist politics and pretends to care about the interests of workers as a way to obtain and maintain his power. And I think a lot of people straightforwardly read him as such, because that's the way he carries himself and the type of character the game is riffing on. There's also the question of how much of Evrart's manipulative, duplicitous attitude is just how he normally acts and how much of it is him specifically acting that way towards Harry and Kim specifically, it's important to have in mind that your main character is a cop and that would definitely play a role in making Evrart go out of his way to be a bit more of a bastard and toy with you a bit before he decides to actually do anything helpful.

However, once you dig a little deeper into his characterization, it becomes clear that he's pulling a very interesting double bluff, because it becomes apparent that the shady mobster who only cares about his personal gain is an act he's putting on. He's very self-aware about the fact that he's playing the villain, he seems to actively revel in it, but ultimately, it seems like he does it because playing the villain is the way he gets shit done.

This is not to say he's not actually corrupt, or that he's not ALSO involved in all sorts of shady stuff and taking advantage of his position of power, but the game does make it apparent that on some level he DOES have the interests of the people of Martinaise at heart.

For example, it is textually stated that the harbor doesn't need a night watchman, and Evrart created the position specifically to provide a source of income for René. He knows the pension Rene gets is not enough for him to live on, but he's also aware that René is the sort of right-wing guy who would rather starve to death than take a handout (especially from those dirty union commies), so Evrart created a job position which pretty much involves doing nothing for a few hours every night so he could help him with his economic troubles in a way he wouldn't refuse out of principle. René hates his guts, ideologically stands against everything his organization represents, and is generally an unlikeable asshole and a fascist prick, but he's also a disadvantaged member of the community and that seems to matter more.

Even when he asks you to get the signatures to build the community center, which is definitely one of the most morally questionable things he does during the events of the game (as it will improve the community, but at the same time displace the people from the fishing village), his intentions seem to be ultimately good. Due to the very nature of his character and the act he puts on, it's purposefully hard to tell when he's being sincere and when he's being manipulative. However, if Harry's drama and empathy skills are high enough when he's confronted about it, you'll be able to tell that he's not lying about his motives for wanting to build a community center or about the fact that he intends to provide better housing for the people displaced by the project, and that he feels genuine rage about their current living conditions. It can still be said that he's ignoring their self-determination and essentially forcing these people out of their current homes, but he does seem to have good intentions and think he's doing a good thing for them in the long run, even if his methods are morally questionable at best.

In that way, the Union is an extension of him in this regard too. They're pretty unapologetic about the fact that they're openly operating as a crime syndicate, but the game doesn't give you any reasons to believe they're lying when they say they're doing it as a way to muslce out all the more dangerous gangs and crime organizations out of Martinaise, or that their involvement in the drug trade is at least partially motivated by a desire to make sure it's not controlled by more dangerous and violent crime organizations. Again, they're playing the villain as a way to fill that power vacuum and make sure more dangerous people don't fill that role (but of course, that doesn't erase the fact that, noble as their intentions may be, they're still involved in all these shady activities and turning a pretty substantial profit from them too)

Of course, on the other hand, just because the game seems to hint at the fact that Evrart and the Union are, deep down, a force for good, doesn't erase the fact that he's done plenty of bad shit to further his interests, and the game doesn't shy away from this. He's still extremely corrupt, his long-term plan to wrestle control of the harbor away from the company and turn it into a worker-owned operation (which *would* massively improve the material conditions of the dockworkers if succesful) involves endangering the lives of a lot of his own workers, he and his brother Edgar pass the position of union foreman back and forth between each other to circumvent the term limit and keep themselves in power indefinitely, and if you explore all dialogue options with the Deserter it's all but explicitly stated that they rose to power by getting him to assassinate the previous Union forewoman.

These are things that Evrart himself would probably rationalize as sacrifices that need to be made for the greater good. After all, it is implied that the previous union forewoman was also corrupt, except in favor of the company's interests, and might have even been a company plant. However, this doesn't make those things morally right. Good intentions nonwithstanding, it's clear that the Claire brothers are very "the ends justify the means" kind of people, they probably see getting the previous Union leader killed or endangering the lives of the dockworkers to overthrow the company that exploits them as "pulling the lever" in the trolley problem, which is extremely callous at best.

Here's where we get a little more into "disjointed thoughts" territory, but Evrart can also be seen as a critique of the limits of trade unionism and social democrat politics. Something that I completely missed in my first playthrough but was able to catch on during my second is that the people of the fishing village refuse to unionize, and as a result they don't get the same level of support and protection that the union provides to the people of the more urban section of Martinaise. This is apparently widely known enough for characters other than Evrart to comment on (I forget what character I learned this from, but it was definitely not Evrart). So it's clear that Evrart and the Union put their interests of the members of their own organization over those of other working class people, which is one criticism that can be leveraged against the way a lot of leftists seem to treat unions as the ultimate tool for worker class liberation.

Similarly, when Evrart tells you his long-term plans, it's clear that his ultimate goals don't involve complete worker liberation. As far as the game shows, he's a socdem who's still looking to work within the confines of capitalism. There are more radically left wing characters in Disco Elysium, but Evrart is the only one with any actual power to affect change, which kinda speaks to the lack of presence of more hardline leftist positions in mainstream politics. As someone living in Latin America, I kinda ended up seeing a bit of a lot of our currrent socdem politicians in him in that respect, I guess, but i'd need more time to articulate this thought properly, I guess.

Ultimately, I think Evrart is an amazingly crafted character. He evokes a well-known archetype of a shady, corrupt, power-hungry union leader, but he adds a lot of depth, self-awareness, and nuance to it and subverts that characterization in several ways. I think he atually serves an important role of ideologically challenging players who share the developers' and writers' political leanings. I think it would have been very self-congratulatory and autocomplacent to make the most influential leftist character in the game an unambiguously good paragon of workers' rights and working class liberation. By instead giving us someone who's an absolute callous bastard who definitely has a bit of blood on his hands, who's a socdem at best and a self-serving mob boss at worst, but can ultimately be interpreted as a force for good, and asking the players to decide what they think of him I think it brings interesting questions to the table of our commitment to material gains, what sorts of people we're willing to work with, and the sort of acts we're willing to tolerate, and makes the game a lot more thematically rich.

I also think a good analysis of Evrart is incomplete without an analysis of the ways in which he serves a a charater foil for Joyce, but I don't feel like getting into that rn.

[fucktoyfelix]

This is actually a useful thing to understand how to spell out. What exactly is wrong with puritanical attitudes towards sexuality? TW: Discusses body image issues, suicide, STIs, sexual assault etc

1. It fosters fear, disgust and loathing of our bodies. By hiding the human body as soon as we are born, and treating it as an object of inherent shame: THAT creates trauma. Shame is one of the primary sources of trauma, its the fuel and lets trauma burn. Those raised in nudist societies, and children raised in households where nudity is treated in a neutral and non-sexual tend to have a much more positive relationship with their bodies as adults. This makes complete sense when you think about it. Going through puberty not knowing if your body is "normal" terrifies children in ways that stick with them for life. In fact, most cultures outside of the Unites States aren't as strange about non-sexual nudity actually...and are healthier for it. We can't have body positivity as long as we are literally criminalized for having an uncovered body. 2. It creates fear, shame and disgust about sex. Most people have sex at some point in their lives. No one would be here at all without it. Most people have sexual desires which lie outside their control. When people are ashamed of those desires, it leads to self hatred, and depression and anxiety. This shame is just as traumatic as bodily shame. When sex is normalized, and treated with the same candor as any other hobby: it becomes less apt to traumatize people.

3. Puritanical attitudes towards sex limit sex education. When people are too ashamed to talk about sex, people don't learn about pregnancy, stis, or consent. All of these things can and do kill people when they aren't addressed with an open dialogue.

Sexual shame leads to people too ashamed to buy condoms, to talk to their doctor about birth control, to ask their partner to use protection, to get tested...the negative health impacts of sexual puritanism have a massive negative effect on society.

4. Sexual shame leads to poorer communication in relationships. Ohh if I had a dime for every person i knew who ruined their relationship because they felt too guilty to talk to their partner about their sexual feelings...Not just that, but the general body shame that comes with puritanism blocks people from connecting to one another too. Have you ever avoided getting close to someone because you were ashamed of your body? If not, I guarantee you know someone who has.

5. Misogyny! Puritanical sexual believes hold that women are not capable of sexual agency. That only men should initiate sex. That women should only ever want babies and not pleasure from sex. All of this rolls right into the next one:

6. Victim blaming in sexual assault. When women are the gatekeepers of sex, its easy to blame them when they 'fail' to protect their chastity when someone violates their trust. This isn't something that just effects women: as the same attitudes hold that men are not capable of experiencing sexual assault. The lack of education and discussion about sex in a sex-negative world inherently prevent the open dialogues necessary for creating and maintaining consent culture.

7. Suppression and marginalization of the queer community. If we're too ashamed to talk about sex, we'll be too ashamed to talk about sexuality. Puritans can't accept any deviation from gender norms either. Anything other than sex between a cis man and a cis woman for the purpose of making a baby is a deviant kink, a mental illness, and needs to be wiped out. Its important to point out that many queer people hold puritanical values about sex: believing that they can achieve sex negativity and queer liberation at the same time. However, sex negative movements always rise with censorship and discrimination of queer people...because queer people are inherently considered deviant by the vast majority of sex negative "allies". It's very dangerous to forget this.

8. Censorship of art. Who decides what is sexual and what is not? Its easy to agree that sex needs to be hidden...but it never takes long before the definition of what is "sexual" expands. Even women's breasts are considered sexual in the United States. Its so normal for Americans to think of them that way that women can't feed their children in public. Drag queens face violence for reading at libraries. Books get taken off the shelves. Artists are bullied offline.

9. Censorship of scientific exploration. Scientific research into reproductive health, sexual behavior, gender identity and more are often hindered due to the "moral objections" of puritans, delaying progress and understanding. That's just off the top of my head. I think its time for people to take how problematic 'puritanism' is more seriously. As we see fascism rear its ugly head all over the world, we're going to see a lot more talk about 'degenerates'...and we know where that kind of talk leads.

[hxney-lemcn]

Friend's From Strange Places — Mr. Crawling x gn! reader

summery: walking home, you meet a strange entity that seems to claim you as a friend on sight.

tw: none.

a/n: had to give my two cents to the Homicipher fandom.

wc: 0.9k

Master List

Part One | Part Two

You felt like you were going crazy. You swear you saw something following you in the corner of your eye, but every time you turned to look there was no one. Sure, it was dark out which meant it was more likely that your brain was playing tricks on you and you were strangely paranoid at the moment, but you couldn’t get over the feeling that something was watching you. The hairs on the back of your neck were standing on end as you walked faster, the street lights glowing faintly in the night not doing much to comfort you. 

You tensed, a strange clicking noise causing your breathing to quicken along with your steps. You were basically running at this point, the sound of shuffling and more clicks picking up its pace in tandem with you. You would’ve felt silly, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins overrode any other thought you had. You needed to escape, you needed to hide, whatever was following you seemed otherworldly (if it was even real in the first place). 

Suddenly everything was silent. No crickets, no hum of the street lights, no cooing owls or passing cars. The only thing you could hear was your thrumming heart and your panting breaths. Every fiber in your being was telling you to not look back, but it seemed your body had a mind of its own as you slowly turned to look back. 

You let out a shriek, raising your hands to shield yourself from the entity. You only managed to catch a glimpse of long black hair and grey tinted skin, but it was enough to scare you as you hadn’t expected to see anything. You heard more clicking before the shuffling noise moved away from you. Taking deep breaths, you tried to get your shaking under control before peaking through your fingers. You nearly let out another shriek, but managed to keep it internal as your eyes met the entity that’s been following you on your walk home.

His hair was much longer than you originally thought, black locks reaching its feet. His hair obscured the upper half of his face, but you noticed the blotchy red splotches of skin that peaked through above his nose. Finally, he wore a pitch blank kimono that would’ve made him blend in with the night if it weren’t for the street lamps. A frown tugged at his lips, head lowered as he let out short clicks.  A ghost. You were seeing a real life ghost. You weren’t sure what to think. Was he going to kill you? Why hasn’t he already? Why did he look…sad? Was he…trying to communicate with you? You should run, you should find an exorcist, you should…do literally anything else than what you were going to do. Maybe the characters in horror movies weren’t as stupid as you thought…or maybe you shouldn’t watch so much horror as it seemed the stupid main characters were rubbing off on you.

Pulling your hands away from you crouched down to his height since the ghost was in a crawling position. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you had the strange sense that he was watching you.

“H-hello,” You stuttered, trying to figure out why the hell you were doing this. This seemed to cause the ghost to perk up, head tilting as it let out more chirps. Your eyebrows furrowed, unsure how to understand what he was trying to say. “I don’t understand.”

The being crawled closer to you, smiling as it lifted a hand and pet your hair. You blinked in confusion, feeling your cheeks warm at the sudden affection. It chirped some more before he let out what you assume is a laugh. Your mouth opens, but no words come out as you're left astounded by the whole situation. You were running for your life not moments ago, only for it to be a strangely friendly ghost. Unsure of what to do, you thought it would only be polite to reciprocate his actions, patting his head in return, before standing back up.

“Um, it was nice meeting you,” You waved, feeling a bit awkward. Did he even understand what you were saying? He tilted his head again, crawling closer to you, saying something that went over your head. Unsure of what it meant, you turned around slowly before making your way back to your home. Glancing back, you noticed the smiling ghost crawl after you, looking as happy as ever. 

Pausing your steps, you asked, “Are you coming with me?”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, of course you didn’t understand his response, the being chittering and chirping. One thing rang clear, he seemed to want to go with you. You purse your lips feeling conflicted. Wasn’t it a bad thing to be haunted? To have a ghost in your life? They trick you into thinking they're good only to harm you. But the way this ghost acted seemed so innocent, like it just wanted a friend and you were probably the first one to notice, let alone treat him kindly. He was following you like he had nothing better to do, and to his credit, you weren’t sure how much a ghost can do without being bored out of their mind.

“Okay,” You relented with a sigh, already crumbling. Has it really been so long since someone was friendly with you that you’d befriend a ghost with no question? “C’mon,” You waved at him to follow you. “Let’s go.” The ghost chirped happily, crawling alongside you on your short walk home. 

Who would’ve guessed a human and a ghost could be friends?

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

💖✨ Just a yandere woman CEO obsessed with her adorable assistant <3 ✨💖

[⚠️WARNINGS⚠️: Not proofread I just wanted to post something because I miss you guys :3, LESBIANS this is a woman loving woman fic! Reader is portrayed as a female, 🔞 gets a little raunchy 18+ near the end with some kissing and touching but you don’t go too far, yandere, some talk of an affair but not regarding Reader or our lovely Ms. CEO]

Imagine an incredibly strict older woman who has learned to leave love and men in the past. She’s been running this company all on her own for several years now, it’s her life’s work and her pride and joy. She’s married to her work since she wouldn’t want to be married to anything else at the moment. Men only disappoint, so what's the point of even trying to form a relationship with one. After all, she's so well known now that anyone who is trying to form bonds with her now is after her fortune or her estate. A waste of time.

Then, she met you.

You came to her agency one afternoon for a meeting of your boss' company and hers, something about collaborating together to build up the value of both of your stocks. Whatever, it wasn't like she needed extra cash in her pocket, but she was willing to listen if he proved to be entertaining.

Though she wasn't really looking forward to creating a partnership with the obviously money-hungry man, her eyes widened when he brought you into the room after their introductions. You were his assistant at the time, and he made sure to get good use out of you. She could tell he ran you ragged from hell and back. You slouched a little and you looked quite uncomfortable in the scarlet red stiletto heels he no doubt required you to wear. However, through the exhaustion, she could see your bright eyes, gorgeous smile, and beauty beyond it all. It was more than beauty though. She felt like she'd seen you before in a dream, like she's known you for a lifetime and more. You're so familiar, yet she knowns she's never met you before.

Despicable. To force such a stunning woman such as yourself run ragged around the town. She could provide so much better for you, she would make you see that.

During the meeting all she could do was stare at you. How you fixed your hair back out of your face as you wrote notes on your laptop, how you answered you boss' questions with hesitancy and a sort of weak tone. She wanted to snap his head off when he barked at you to speak up and "show some respect for your employer". Yet he acted like the perfect, charming gentleman towards herself. She couldn't take this anymore. She called a 15 minute break and said she needed a moment to think over his "compelling" proposition.

As you walked off, she discreetly trailed behind. You headed to the restroom and she made a point to hang outside by the communal coffeemaker. When you came out, she came up to you with a Styrofoam cup and a gentle smile. Just seeing the way your pretty eyes brighten up at the kind gesture made her heart soar, and the shiver that raced down her spin when your fingers brushed against her made her feel electric.

You two chatted for the remainder of the break, and she strategically dropped the question over you and your boss' situation. She provided her shoulder to cry on as you lamented your woes over you boss, how he's...nice yeah right but he can be a little tough at times. The position pays well enough and it's nice to not have to work in the hot sun all day as your income, but it would be nice to not have to run around the town and retrieve miniscule things as his little lap dog all the time.

She simply slipped you a her card and gave you wink (you couldn't help but notice there was a strange, darker look in her eyes as she scanned you up and down) and told you to stop by whenever you felt the urge, but to look at the back of the card when you head out. As she walked off to go deny that selfish bastard's shit of an idea, you looked down at the card. On paper was a date and time for two days from now right below her name and the address of her agency.

~~~

It had been three months since that fateful day and she couldn't be happier.

She held a private meeting, just the two of you she can't wait to start calling these meetings a date, those two days later. She offered you a position as her personal assistant at her company instead of your current employer. When you thought of declining, she passed a piece of paper over to you that read a number with more zeros than you could process. She said this is what you would make a year with full benefits and plenty of opportunity for growth as it would be the base amount you'd make. It was easily triple your current salary.

With little hesitation, you put in your two weeks with your company, and with a swift call on from her side, you never had to go back to that company to fulfill those two weeks. She said he owed her a favor of some kind and he would repay it through letting you be free she actually found juicy blackmail material of him and one of his employees for a scandalous affair against his wife, but she would never tell you that.

In no time, you begun being her little pet. The job was great at first; she treated you with great respect, patience, and the tasks she gave you weren't even that difficult. It was like a dream come true. Then, it begun to change.

Suddenly, she enforced a dress code policy that felt like it only applied to you. It was mandatory for "all women or female presenting" read just for you workers in her establishment to done pencil skirts, sleek high heels, and a blazer that cut down deep into the cleavage. Don't worry about not meeting the dress code, she'll help you out! When you explained you didn't have many clothes of this variety in your closet, she quickly cleared her day and went on a shopping spree with you. Luxury brands, private fitting rooms, tailors and seamstresses all around took your measurements and were sent off to construct a dozen and more outfits for you to wear in the office. All the while, Ms. CEO sat and watched you model the attire. If the skirt wasn't short enough, she'd direct them to hem a few inches higher. If the cut wasn't deep enough on the blazer, she'd come in close and open the blazer to her desired bust viewing. You couldn't help but heat up tremendously as she worked her way around you, staring at your everything, and touching what felt like all of your intimate parts.

After that was done, she took you to a decadent lunch at a high class restaurant where the waiters and chefs seemingly all knew her by first name. She finished her small portion rather quickly, but she made a point to move her chair next to yours and chat beside you. You felt uncomfortable with her being so close and not eating, but she insisted you continue your food, saying she liked to watch you eat as the expressions you made at the exquisite food filled her more than any other meal could. She kept it to herself that it was mostly because it fueled her desire to know that she could provide for you. To feed you and clothe you. It was paradise to finally have someone to spoil.

At the end of the day, she took you back to your home in her private limo with her driver at the helm. She walked you to your front door, thanked you for indulging her and for such a wonderful day, and bid you a good night. She kissed the back of your hand, leaving behind a bloody red mark of a lipstick kiss as she marked you as hers. Her cute little assistant. She couldn't wait to make you her wife, and that joy carried her home the entire drive home.

~~~

One last idea: Our lovely Ms. CEO needs to attend a super ritzy, widely news pressed, gala of some sort, but she needs a partner to go with her! Everyone else is bringing a date, she'd be mortified she's could care less what the press thinks to be sent alone for the seventh year in a row.

So, she asks you to go with her as her sexy arm candy date. You reluctantly agree since you're just that nice and would hate her to feel humiliated going alone. :((

She's got you right where she wants you, darling~

So, you two go. She picks you up the day before, takes you to get a custom dress made personally for you. Skimpy and tight for her to eye fuck you and devour you all night, but still classy enough that you'll be the most elegant person attending.

You two walk in with the interviewers dotted around going nuts for her showing up with a date this year. You flush and make a point to clarify you aren't dating, but she pulls you along with a scoff at the newscasters.

She pulls you inside, and you two mingle, you never being allowed to stray from her side. She takes you over to the fancy bar, and loads you up with drink after drink, saying she wants you to enjoy the evening and have fun. However, with every drink she pushes on you, you realize too late that she's hardly even nursed the first drink she got an hour ago. You feel light headed and are no doubt way past tipsy.

She pulls you off with a grin, coddling you and holding your face, asking if you were alright in a babying tone. After meekly nodding your head, she yanks you over to the dance floor. She pulls you in close, and since she's at least a head taller than you, she makes sure that you rest your head on her breast. She sways you back and forth on your wobbling knees and you feel hot. You can feel every part of her body smooshed up against yours.

You whine at her hand gripping your hips as they drift lower to your thighs and ass. She whispers sweet nothings in your ears, pressing her red lipstick-covered lips against your ear when she nibbles.

You can't stop her as she pulls you away from the crowd and back to her limo. Once inside, she's kissing you senseless and maneuvering one of her hands to keep you shoved deep into her open-mouthed kiss. All you can acknowledge is her tongue stroking yours in a sensual curl and her other hand shimmying up the deep slit in your fancy dress to dance her fingers around your cute white panties.

You're starting to wonder if the money is really worth it anymore.

Can you guys tell I have no idea how big companies or money work? Lol, no, this was in no way, shape, or form meant to be a realistic view of how CEOs or big companies run. I just want a sexy dominate woman to adore me obsessively, pay for my wants and my desire for pretty dresses, and screw me senseless til I see stars.

Teehee~! ✨💖

Love,

Kraken 🐙

[thoughtfulfiction]

Shift in the Routine II

Thank you so much for the love on part 1! Hope this one gives you all the feels. Joe requests are open!

masterlist

“Can you just…tell me exactly what happened?From the beginning.”

You sigh, running a hand over your face, thinking about the various ups and downs you’d been through emotionally the last few days. “There’s nothing new to tell, I told him I need to think about things and he was supportive of that. He really hurt me Rach, I can’t just—forget about it and move on.”

“I completely understand where you’re coming from. It’s just,” she pauses, trying to find the words. “What about—”

“The game on Monday night? Under no circumstances am I watching that,” you promise her, crossing your arms in protest of what was expected of you.

“Bengals defense missing a tackle? Likely place for them to be. This game is going to give me an ulcer.” You slammed your drink on the table, putting your head in your hands in hopes that they’d get a stop if you looked away for a bit.

Rachel watched silently, still trying to understand the rules of this football thing. She found you more entertaining than the game most of the time.

“Oh my god, how many times are we going to go for it on fourth and short and not convert?” This season had been full of trying moments, forcing you think back on the few times you snuck in to catch a peak of what Joe was seeing on film when these things would happen.

“FACEMASK?” You yell. “There’s no way in the world they just miss that? Hello? They’re literally trying to rip his head off, that should’ve been a first dow—wait,” you pause, standing up out of your seat for the first time in a few hours. “Is he…is he limping? He’s limping, right?”

Rachel sits up, joining in your concern but also slightly amused at the situation, considering the fact that you said you weren’t going to watch the game and the two of you had been glued to the tv before kickoff. “No matter how much you don’t want to admit it to anyone, including yourself, you still care about him. A lot.”

“I do care,” you swallowed, feeling like your heart was in your stomach at the thought of being in pain. That sleeve didn’t look like it was going to protect anything. “Maybe I care a little too much? Which is exactly why I’m in this predicament. Because let’s be real, on paper? We do not make sense. He doesn’t even flinch spending $3 million and I cry a little if I add too many things to my Amazon cart.”

Rachel laughs, tossing a few pieces of Chex mix into her mouth. “That’s because your job is stingy with raises. And with Joe? Just talk to him. Go see him tomorrow, give him his gift and go from there, see how you feel about everything.”

You admired her ability to put a positive spin on a situation that you felt was pretty much doomed. Maybe you could have one more day of happiness with him tomorrow before walking away for good. That may be your best bet, to just cut all communication and quit cold turkey. After his birthday of course. Dumping someone before their birthday just sounded really terrible and you’d spent a long time getting him this special present so there was no way you weren’t going to see the look on his face in person as he opened it.

The drive felt uncomfortably long. They had gotten a much needed win and he seemed happy enough postgame. But what if he didn’t want to see you? You’d been so focused inward on your feelings and what you needed to do that you really hadn’t had the time to even wonder what Joe’s thought process was. Just in case he wasn’t in the mood for company, you knocked on the door instead of letting yourself in.

Clad in a purple Nike hoodie you remembered borrowing a few times, there he stood in front of you with a blank look on his face.

Solid start.

“Why did you knock? You could’ve just come in.” His hair looks extra fluffy, like he woke up not too long ago, taking it extremely easy after coming home late and taking quite a few hits in last night’s game.

You pushed down the nerves, determined to make today neither awkward nor painful for all parties involved. “Happy birthday. I brought your favorite smoothie from Rune and…did a package come in this morning?”

He thanks you, grabbing the drink out of your hand and closing the door behind you. You can tell he’s moving gingerly. “Yeah I had them put it in the garage. So…are we still—”

“In relationship limbo? Definitely. But today is your day and I’m not a monster,” you joke as a smile forms on his face. And I wanted to see you for myself to make sure you weren’t going to lie. How’s your knee?”

Joe looks at you affectionately, almost visibly resisting the urge to reach out to you. His first instinct was always to give you a comforting squeeze or a gentle hand on your shoulder as a form of reassurance, he just wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate given the circumstances.“Careful, it almost sounded like you were worried about me for a second there.”

“I do not care about you. I care about my favorite football team’s starting quarterback and his well being for the rest of the season. That’s all. Don’t read too much into it.” You were lying through your teeth and both of you knew it.

He nods slightly, catching you looking at his leg or any sign of pain in his face if he so much as leaned over the counter. And if you still had a soft spot for him somewhere in there that was enough. “I feel ok. It’s sore but it’s Tuesday and the day after games is always touch and go. You know that.”

You quickly learned just how exhausting some postgame days were. His body bruised easily so sometimes he looked like he’d honestly been in a fight of some kind. And lost…badly. Moving around was slow and painful as if he were closer to being put in a retirement home than he was to playing another bruising game the next week. But the next day was usually back to normal and you were always in awe at his ability to bounce back. Having everything laid out in front of you like this made it easy to understand why he had such a strict schedule. Eating and sleeping and everything in between were catered to help him recover.

“Are you ready to open your gift?”

Joe sighs, stating that he doesn’t need more presents but you give him a look and he knows it’s best to just follow you to the garage. “I didn’t realize how big this is,” he notes, a hint of apprehension in his voice, “you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

He runs his fingers along the top of wrapping, deep in thought for a few seconds before you urge him to open it. Carefully peeling back the paper, Joe pulls back the layers to reveal a one of a kind Seinfeld painting.

“Before you say anything, look at the back,” you tell him when he looks at you like he’s about to open his mouth. On the back is a handwritten note from Jerry Seinfeld himself. Joe’s jaw actually drops and he’s rendered speechless, silently rereading the words over and over. “It goes great with the pants, that I somehow knew you’d be wearing today. How predictable.”

He shrugs and looks down at the well worn blue pants, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “What can I say?”

“That you’re a millionaire who’s also a serial outfit repeater? What would Anna Wintour say if she could see you now?”

“She’d probably say that I pull off the lazy look very well,” he retorts with a laugh. Looking back at the painting and then at you, Joe feels a rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. He had no idea how you got this but he’s sure it took a long time and you went to great lengths to make it possible, to make him happy. “Thank you,” he whispers, suddenly not trusting his voice.

You find yourself in his arms before you even register that your body has moved, clinging onto him like your life depends on it. Part of you wanted to stay, be in this moment and let yourself fall back into the routine of a grueling season with the person who clearly brought you an immense joy unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Joe was your peace, your picnic on a sunny day and it was scary to see how easily the two of you hadn’t missed a beat, teasing each other and talking like lifelong friends who could read each other like a book. The thing that was breaking your heart the most is that Joe had become your best friend, the one you could talk to about any and everything while simultaneously making your heart beat out of your chest at the effortless romance that came from this playful and unexpected connection.

But was that really enough? When you gave his body one more squeeze before stepping back, Joe couldn’t help the awful thought going through his mind that this could be the last hug. Not wanting to tear himself away from the embrace, he awkwardly and very hesitantly lets you go, standing alone in the garage after you wish him happy birthday again and leave. All that progress he’s thought the two of you had just made was out the door and he was stuck with the coolest gift he’d ever received and a sense of emptiness inside him that only you could fill.

The next day in the facility he was locked in. Focused solely on football from the moment he walked in, went through walkthrough as he tried to avoid the Hard Knocks crew and conducted his weekly press conference like it was another day. Only after he got in the car did he allow himself to really acknowledge that he was missing you. Yesterday was supposed to have helped and it did, but it also just made him realize that life was just better with you around and he couldn’t keep letting you walk away.

He’d admittedly been quiet last night at dinner with his parents and when they asked if he was okay he just told them that the season was weighing on him a bit, not exactly ready to divulge the fact that he was seeing someone and had potentially ruined it all in the same breath. That may result in too many questions he wasn’t ready to answer. So he scheduled time to speak with the one person he could always turn to for guidance and perspective.

And 24 hours later, as soon as he walked in the door, he set his stuff down and went upstairs to his room for an emergency Zoom meeting with his therapist. After the session was over and he had a moment to think, he pondered his therapist’s words urging him to think about one defining moment that encapsulates your relationship to guide him in his next steps.

The two of you had finished eating dinner during the bye week on the couch. Sushi boxes were discarded on the table as you forced him to watch some cooking show. You slid your feet under his leg, desperately searching for warmth in places where the blanket just wasn’t enough.

“Your feet cold again?” You nod. “Babe, you might have circulation issues or something, should probably get that checked out,” he grins, lifting himself up so he can grab your legs and put them in his lap. His touch instantly brings heat to your limbs, shooing away the frigid air and replacing it with a soft glow that you’re pretty sure has surrounded you since you and Joe made things official.

Once you’ve warmed up enough you cross over to the other side of the couch to wrap yourself up in him, as close as you possibly can. Nights like this feel like his own little peace of heaven, your arm resting casually on his chest and your bodies practically glued to each other, becoming one simultaneous heartbeat. He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head, laying there in complete bliss, all of worries about football, the team and their season out the window for a bit. The weight of carrying a franchise is easily lifted when you’re around, keeping his feet on the ground in times when he would have his head in the clouds. For one second everything makes sense and it’s perfect…until it hits him square in the chest.

He’s in love.

Joe comes back to himself, snapping out of that bye week memory wiping a tear that he hadn’t realize was coming down his face. His heart tightens at recognizing why he’d lashed out at you and said those horrible things. It wasn’t football stress at all. It was fear driving him, he reverted back to the person he was trying to work on. And instead of being honest, he’d built an emotional wall around himself disguised as work stress to keep himself from saying those three words at a time he thought could be too soon for the two of you and scare you off. Because it was definitely terrifying him, even if he felt it. And now he may have lost you as a result of his actions.

On Friday, he actually looked forward to enjoy the off day, after he got his morning workout in at the facility. And then you texted him to tell him you were walking into the house.

You looked nervous and he didn’t like it. “Is this a bad time?” He shakes his head no, unsure if he wants to do this right now. The quarterback was really regretting coming home right about now. Being at the stadium watching the guys play golf would’ve been a much faster but still painful death. This was just torture.

“I’ve been thinking…a lot. And,” you take in a deep breath, hoping that filling your lungs with lots of air can make what you have to say a bit easier.

Joe pales, thinking that you’ve put off breaking up with him because of his birthday. He wants to brace himself for impact. He should respect your wishes, whether he agrees or not, but you both know he isn’t one to go down without a fight. “Before you dump me, I just—I have to tell you how sorry I am. You bulldozed through my life like freight train with your royalty jokes and your horrible day and I knew I needed more. Wanted to know everything about you. But I’m not great at this. Emotions aren’t easy to talk about and I usually pride myself on not showing them and you’ve brought them out of me. So when things got a little too real, I shut down. You’re one of the greatest things in my life but I really messed it up.”

“Joe…” you say quietly, begging the tears not to come.

He stops you, “if I don’t get this out, I might not get another chance. I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t want to be around you when the truth is that sometimes it’s all I want. You mentioned schedules and—and routines. Nowhere in my plans did it include falling for someone this soon and I pushed you away because I was scared, not because you’re a distraction but because—being with you makes me have to admit that the things I feel for you aren’t like anything I’ve ever felt before. I’m sorry I hurt you in the midst of realizing that.”

You look at him, trying to memorize every one of his features. The natural bags under his eyes are a bit more pronounced, a slight glimmer in his ocean eyes give away all of the emotions written on his face. He looks devastated, a look all too familiar to you since you and the entire country have seen him look dejected and defeated several times throughout the season. But there’s something more distressing hidden behind his gaze. An indescribable amount of worry etched across his features.

Joe looks…heartbroken.

The honesty and raw intensity of his words are almost enough to render you speechless, but you came here for a reason.

You clear your throat before you speak, biting back your own emotions. “Joseph I’m not breaking up with you. Believe me, I wanted to and I thought about all the reasons why maybe I should. Because I don’t think I’m built for this life,” you look down at your feet, heaving out another breath before looking up at him and holding out your hand for him to hold.

“None of this is easy and sometimes, yeah I doubt myself. And you are very moody for like half the year. But there’s nowhere else I want to be and no one else I’d rather be with. Through the honeymoon phase or 60 years from now when when we’re senile and yelling at each other about the tv remote. Mostly me yelling you staring angrily but—as long as we’re together, I really don’t care. What I’m saying is…I don’t want easy. I want you.”

The tension in his shoulders is released almost immediately. “So you’re saying you’re stuck with me?” He laughs, a sense of relief taking over him. “And you aren’t just saying that because you haven’t had Boca in almost two weeks, right?”

“Your ability to get me their Maple Mascarpone Cheesecake whenever I want is not the main reason why I love you. That’s just one of many.”

You take a second to realize what you just said, opening and closing your mouth a few times but no words are coming out.

Joe’s smiling so big his face is starting to hurt. “You just said you love me.”

Tilting your head to look at him, laughing a little. You can’t believe you let it slip out like that. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Say it again,” he says softly, squeezing your hand and taking a few steps toward you.

You shake your head, one of your hands finding their way into his hair as you pull him in.

The man’s breath hitches as he melts into your touch, the kiss slowly putting him back together, free from all the anxious energy he’d put aside as a defense mechanism. “Joseph, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

The sound of your words radiate against his lips, sending a never ending shiver down his spine.

"I love you too,” he utters with such sweetness you feel like your heart is exploding. “And I missed you.”

He leans in and pours two weeks of apologies and love into the kiss and after all this time of not being close to him, you never want to let him go again. You eventually do separate, only because you need air, and giggle at the fact that you actually still haven’t let each other go. With your fingers intertwined, you lead him upstairs. “Do you need help packing?” Joe steals another quick peck, whispering yes because he’s not letting you out of his sight until it’s time for him to leave tomorrow.

None of this was part of the plan but now that your soul has found its match, you really don’t have a choice but to dive in.

[minus-plus-zer0]

One Good Grovel

♡ Genre: Fluff (trust me), little crack ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Established relationships

You and Katsuki had your biggest fight in a while.

Both sides fought like they were out for blood. You two said things you shouldn't have, things that were hard to take back. It ended with Bakugou storming out of your shared apartment.

The moment he did, he regretted it. But he didn't know how to go back inside and say it.

Hours later after he came home from doing errands, Bakugou found you on the couch. You hadn't answered any of his texts, and Bakugou never felt so helpless before. He was already losing you fast, and he couldn't dawdle now. Bakugou dumped his groceries on the kitchen counter and then approached you. Neither of you said anything.

You still looked torn up about your earlier argument, your hair a little messy in a way that Bakugou liked. He'd prefer to be the one messing it up himself, but he knew he didn't deserve that privilege now. Bakugou threw an extra blanket over you, because you looked like you needed one.

"Yo," Bakugou said, sitting down beside you on the couch. "How've you been holding up?"

"...I don't wanna talk about it. Not with you."

Your voice was frail, quiet. It broke Bakugou's heart, knowing that he put you in this position.

He had to make it right.

"I'm sorry," Bakugou said. "For everything I said. I wouldn't be surprised if ya never wanted to talk to me ever again after this." You looked at him suspiciously. "It'd kill me if you did, but that's fine. 'Cause I value your feelings over mine. When I was out today, all I could think about was you and what I said to you. So I bought you some gifts and I really hope you'll love 'em."

Bakugou reached out to stroke your hair. "And I promise you, I'll never say that demeaning shit to you ever again. You mean more to me than winning that stupid argument, and I don't know where I'd be in my life without you by my side. I was wrong, okay? I was dead wrong for treating you like that, like anything less than the best. Most of all, I just want ya to take me back and love me. But I won't force ya to do anything. I can walk out that door again and leave you alone if you asked. And if you hate me forever... I understand."

You smiled at him. "...Okay, I hear you."

"...So do ya hate me now?"

You still smiled. "Only a whole bunch. You monster." You playfully punched him in the face.

"Sorry," Bakugou said, matching your sweet expression. "I deserved that. Punch me all ya want. Won't even stop ya."

You gave him several more feather-light punches. "You're soooo dead."

"Ya gonna call the cops on me too? Make sure I never do that shit again? Make sure I learn my lesson instead of forgiving me too easily?"

"Yes." You fluffed his hair. "They're already on their way. The conviction of a famous Pro Hero is gonna be the scandal of a century!"

Bakugou fixed his hair. "Well I'll still love ya, even while in jail."

You crossed your arms. "Only after you've served your 10-year sentence and repent through hours and hours of community service will I finally forgive you. Then you'll be free, we'll start all over, and we'll fall in love again."

"Deal," Bakugou said, kissing your forehead. "But I wanna skip to the end."

"No, that's the easy way out!"

"The hell? You're not actually gonna send me to jail for saying it was wrong to like Pepsi over Coca-Cola, are ya?"

"That's how the roleplay is going!"

"It ain't that serious! I said I was sorry babe! I'm sorry!"

You recalled what you originally fought about quite easily...

"Alright," Bakugou said. "I'm gonna head out for groceries. Any last minute changes to the shopping list?"

"Oh yes!" You rushed out to meet him in the entrance. "Could you get me some Pepsi? Pretty please?"

"What the fuck?" Bakugou looked at you like you grew two heads. "'Pepsi'? You want freaking 'Pepsi'?!"

You shrugged. "...Is that so bad? It'd be nice to have something besides Coca-Cola for once..."

Bakugou's eyes narrowed into slits. He shut the front door and approached you. "I didn't realize we had a freaking problem here. You're telling me I've been buying the wrong soda for you this entire time?!"

"Well... It's just not as good as Pepsi. It's not the same. I'm sorry... but I've always felt this way."

"Since fucking when?! When did things change?" Bakugou slapped a hand over his eyes. "What the hell did I miss?!"

Bakugou couldn't believe this. He thought he knew you better than anyone, just like how you knew him better than anyone. You two were the tightest couple ever. Bakugou had an engagement ring hidden in his dresser because he had already long since decided that what he wanted in life was you.

But now, he didn't feel like he knew you at all.

He'd still marry you though.

You remained silent. Bakugou couldn't stand it. He shook his head, then walked back to the front door, opening it. He stopped before he left, turning to you.

"Coca-Cola is better than Pepsi. That's just a fact."

Then he turned, and left. Instant regret washed over him, but he continued down to the front lobby. As Bakugou looked down upon his cursed shopping list, he couldn't in good conscious buy Coca-Cola anymore. Not when you hated it so much. He had to make things right.

He was getting Dr. Pepper instead.

"This is fucking disgusting, Katsuki," you said, halfway through your delicious can of Dr. Pepper at your dinner table.

"It was on sale, alright?!"

(I've read that a lot of people are unsatisfied with grovels in romance novels because they don't feel that the love interest apologizes well enough, so I wrote this just in case anybody needs one good quick grovel with none of the baggage attached. Btw, my favorite is Coke and it's not even close)

[rafry]

Euclydia, Cults and Need for Control

Disclaimer: this analysis raises sensitive topics. if you are/were a victim of a cult and the topic triggers you, please refrain from reading further(/seek help). Additionally, I am not a specialist on said topic, nor am I a clinician. But I am a survivor, so part of the narrative may or may not be just me projecting the trauma on a silly yellow triangle. That said, reader discretion is advised! :)

The take: Euclydia is likely to be a cult-like society and the reason Bill, after years of abuse, grows up to be as he is: a power-hungry monster. Let's analyze!

For the starters, The Start. Each state has its own anthem. How lucky that we were kindly provided with the Euclidian hymn (hidden under the code "FORGETTHEPAST")! Lets take a look:

"Two dimensions to and from, You always know which way to go If you're lost, don't be afraid, In Euclydia you've got it made! Run too far too right of frame, You'll appear on left again! Jump too high, don't fry or fret, You'll pop up from the ground, I bet! In this place there is no fear, Roles and rules, always clear, Euclydia, we hold you dear…"

That tells us way more than we could've asked for, really. The most important: Euclydia is a state of Clear Rules™. Everything works perfectly thanks to The Rules and The Roles, and the state is loved by it's citizens. It's might be a caricature 2D utopia, but how it reacts when the rules are questioned?

"Eye doctor of a different kind, who wants to make his patient blind The doctor says: 'three sips a day will make the visions go away' Fussy eater, baby Billy Wouldn't drink unless it's silly..."

If there's anything about cults and the way they make people behave, is that the "wrong" ones in the community are usually ostracized and/or heavily medicated to not cause any troubles. Those people are sometimes called 'heretics', but may as well just be called crazy or insane by their peers. Oh look completely unrelated picture:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane Starting fires with his brain"

Honestly, the other time it would be it. Euclydia, if not Is, then sure does Act like a cult in some way. I could've finished here, easily, but there's something missing, isn't?

"The hell do you mean by 'The Need to Control', OP?"

I mean that the BILLVILLE is important.

There's the thing about trauma survivors: some of us, after living a life with no control over ones societal position (ostracization/isolation), body (forcibly medicated) or even mind (feeling of inadequacy), crave for some form of control to be regained.

It can turn toxic very quickly when the only form of control one has ever seen in their life is being The Leader (cult leader/shitty parent/armageddon overlord/you get the idea, it's about becoming an authority figure).

And so, Bill becomes a cult leader! Very possibly covering up the need for control and admiration with what I call "The most inefficient way to build an Interdimentional Portal ever", since, well, he's got to lie to himself every now and then, that's his thing (trauma response).

As for the details:

He uses the dead mans body — the body that wouldn't cause any resistance, thus being perfect for taking under control.

He sees the position of the interviewer as more authoritative than the position of the interviewee — and he swaps the roles. That wasn't enough though, so he demands (politely) to be called "My Lord And Master" for a good measure.

He very possibly recreates some of Euclydia-like order in his own "Town" in terms of expressing individuality. They might've been pretty decent in following scripts, I think.

So, I don't think Euclydia has ever been religious in any way, since that would left some other scars on Bills psyche for sure. But highly authoritative, ignorant, strict in its rules to the point of self-damnation? That checks. That's the place that has formed Bill, after all.

That's the place that he wishes to rebuild.

Maybe not consciously, maybe distorted by his illness and broken memory of a loving-paradise-home that has never actually been that way, but he seeks the comfort of familiarity — most of us do. Familiar stings are better than an uncontrollable too-bright future, isn't?

I hope he does well on therapy.

[cvntluver444]

i’m your girl - ellie williams

ellie 📸 creds - s9ession on pinterest (and tiktok)

ellie williams x reader, slight!abby x reader

₊* summary : after catching your girlfriend cheating on you, your best friend ellie offers a little more than some much needed quality time together.

₊* warnings : smut minors dni, language, cheating, dom!ellie 🤭 sub!reader, light spanking, abby and ellie tensionnnn, slight ellie x cat, reader uses she/her pronouns, intended lowercase, bad writing, not proof read. if i miss any please let me know!! 🤍

₊* a/n : EEEEK hi everyone! this is my FIRST EVER FIC! don’t be fooled though, i’ve been apart of this lovely community for years and have loved reading all of your lovely works!! i really wanted to try and give this a shot because im a hoe and i have some crazy thoughts that i think need to be shared (this one really isn’t crazy this is like the third thing i’ve written so we are going to ease into it 🫡)

anyways i am so excited to share my first fic! it would mean the world if you guys left some positive feedback or constructive criticism so i know how to grow!! i’m also looking for new friends since i don’t post on here so if you want to be friends hmu 😋 i love you all!! again i hope beauties enjoy!!

🇵🇸 as always, please keep spreading information and support for Palestine! 🇵🇸

▹ daily click

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

walking back from a study sesh, your bubbly laugh fills the halls of dorm as your best friend her story of a disastrous hookup.

“oh my god, ellie. that would happen to you,” you huff out, trying hard to calm yourself down. ellie chuckles while smiling down at you. “i can’t believe cat said a different name!” you couldn’t stop you laughter as ellie explained the awkward interacting with cat. your laugh was her favorite sound in the whole world, which is why she always loved to tweak her stories just a bit. she knew just about everything about you, so of course she knew what made you come undone in a fit a laughter. so maybe cat didn’t actually say someone else’s name. maybe ellie said someone else’s name. maybe she said your name. but you don’t have to know that.

“yeah ya know” she shrugs a bit and pauses. “maybe she just isn’t right for me,” ellie shrugs nonchalantly. “anyways, is abby gonna be in the room?” ellie questions.

“yeah hope that’s okay with you, i didn’t tell her we were coming back so early so she will probably just be in our room and out somewhere,” you explain, as you reached for your dorm room keys. living with your girlfriend in the same dorm room would have some calling you a bit risky, but you never had any doubts with your relationship with abby. you’ve been together for a year now, you trusted her, she treated you good, and you were even kind of starting to picture your life together. however; that daydream becomes a distant afterthought as soon as you open the door of your dorm room. in front of you is your, now ex-girlfriend, naked and on top of none other than the infamous cat who ellie has talked your ear off about.

“what the fuck” you whisper out, your voice coming out raspy as your eyes quickly start swelling up with tears and your throat swells up. abby and cats giggles soon turn into gasps and their heads fly towards your direction. you feel ellie come to your side and put her arm on your back. “why don’t we just step outside quick, baby,” ellie sadly begs you, her voice full of sympathy, but also anger. how could anyone take advantage of such a beautiful girl. her gaze lands right on a worries looking abby who is rushing to put her clothes back on.

“baby no wait look please just give me a sec let me explain it’s not what it looks like,” abby rambles out a bullshit story but you can’t hear anything around you. your tears now rapidly falling.

“what- what- what the fu-fuck abby!” at this point, you can’t control any emotions. it’s impossible to try and stop any tears now. you’re defeated, hurt, and feeling betrayed. you quickly spew out a few choice words at the two girls rushing to get dressed, but slowly relax and fall into the tall body next to you. she gently grabs your arm and drags you out the door, whispering apologizes and begging for you to focus on her as you still throw some daggers at abby. finally clothed, abby forgets all about the girl she was just fingers deep in and rushes out the door towards you.

“hey hey hey please just wait please” abby calls your name as ellie continues to guide you towards her dorm. you can’t even look at her as you continue to cuddle into ellie, who’s arm is gently placed around your figure, shielding you from your panicking ex.

“just fuck off abby you’ve done enough give her some space” ellie turns to yell towards the blonde who’s still right on your tail.

“you can shut the fuck up and stay out of this williams” abby barks back. “this is between me and her, and the last time i checked, she wasn’t your girlfriend.” ellie’s hearts cracks a little at the sentence, wanting none other to call you hers.

“well after the way you just cheated on her, i don’t think she will be yours very soon either,” ellie smirks. abby and ellie get pretty angry pretty fast, spewing out nasty things about each other and who can treat you the best. you were going to go insane. all you wanted to do in this moment was cry.

“ellie?” suddenly, ellie stops at the soft voice that just called her name. she saw you, teary-eyed, staring at her with the most heartbroken look on her face. her eyes softened and jaw unclenched. her heart broke at the sight of you, but still could not get over the fact that you still looked angelic. “can we please go?” you didn’t even have to ask ellie twice. she nodded her head and gave you a quiet ‘of course’ with a sympathetic smile on her face, but didn’t leave without staring the girl in front of her down. she then turned towards you and flung her arms over your shoulder. leaning her head on yours, you two walked together back to ellie’s room.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

the usual 5-minute walk back to ellie’s dorm felt like hours as it become harder and harder to hold back your tears. ellie didn’t speak one word to you, she understood that all you wanted in this moment was to be silent, knowing that if you opened your mouth once, you would burst out into tears again.

as you two reached her room, she gave a soft “hold on baby” and slowly released her grip on yours so she could unlock her door. you two entered an empty room thanks to dina, ellie’s roommate, visiting jesse at his campus. as much as you loved dina, you were so thankful you could just be alone with your best friend and cry. as soon as you heard ellie shut the door, it was exactly what you did.

as soon as she heard your heartbreaking sobs, ellie quickly rushed over to your side and engulfing you with her toned arms. she shushed you quickly and rocked back and forth, doing everything in her power to try and somehow make your beautiful face smile again.

“i can’t fucking believe her” you finally speak up after several minutes of silence and sniffles. ellie looks over at you, startled after not hearing your voice in a while. “we were together for over a year, we were literally living together in the same fucking room, like, where does she think i’m gonna go now? i’m not living there anymore i fucking hate her!” your sadness has now turned into rage and your slowly growing louder as your rant goes on.

“hey hey hey,” ellie tried to calm you down. “don’t worry about all that now, okay baby? you’re gonna stay with me, and you me and dina are gonna have a big slumber party and have pillow fights and make cookies and talk about boys.” ellie’s joke works miracles and brings a small smile on your face and a little giggle reaches ellie’s ears.

“there she is,” ellie smiles. “i missed that beautiful laugh.” you can’t help but get a little flustered at her comment. now that you were done with abby, your relationship was quickly forgotten when you remembered just how much you were in love with ellie before. you always thought she was so beautiful, and of course she always treated you like a princess.

when you finally worked up enough courage to speak, a quiet “i’m sorry, ellie” left your lips.

“what are you apologizing for baby?” ellie asks you with a confused look on her face. in the moment of catch your girlfriend fucking another girl, you totally forgot all about your own best friend and her crush, and how she was probably going through the same emotions as you right now.

“i’ve been being so selfish. i’ve only been thinking about me and my relationship that i completely forgot about your obsession with cat” you sadly smile and give her an apologetic look. you remembered all the times that ellie would gush about cat with you

“cats skirt looks so good” ellie seductively says to you while you grab your things out of your locker. you glance over to where cat was talking to two other friends at a locker bay across from the two of you. it is pretty cute you thought to yourself. you frown looking down at yours. just a plain boring white skirt.

or that one time when you two were putting off studying in your deserted dorm room

“wait stop scrolling! there! yes! let’s watch that one.” you questioned her on her choice because it was your favorite movie too and you didn’t think she would ever like it, considering she laughed in your face when you told her about it. “oh um i know yo- um it’s cats favorite movie.” ellie saves herself from almost admitting to you that she may have done a little too much stalking that night and found out a couple of your favorite things.

or the night of the frat party, the night ellie’s compliment to cat broke your heart so much, you’d call it one of the worst nights of your life.

“ok now my turn stop hogging,” you giggle at ellie and she shoves you away from the blunt. she finally hands it over and take a hit. you look around at the view of campus from on top of the frat house. “it’s sooo pretty up here, els.” you giggle as you blow the smoke out. ellie chuckles with you and you two burst into laughing. “oh my god how high are we,” you squeak out “ellie look and tell me how red my eyes are.” you’re suddenly staring straight at ellie, and in her haze she lets out a small ‘woah’.

“i uh i mean uh-“ she stutters out as you question what she meant and furrowed your brows. “i mean i was just looking into your eyes and thinking about cat,” she spews out “you know she just has eyes just like yours,” your small smile falls suddenly and confused brows now turn downwards. “uh yeah cats eyes you know they’re like a beautiful uh” while ellie tries to think, she then stares at you again and describes your eyes. cat has eyes like mine? i could’ve sworn they were different. your cloudy mind is not sober enough to realize what’s actually happening, instead your heart breaks even more, thinking that ellie has probably stared into cats eyes so many times she’s pinpointed every detail about them. once you two tossed out the blunt over the roof, you headed back downstairs together. still hurt with ellie’s rambles, you quickly get away from her as soon as your in the clear, leading you to meet abby. why is the worst time if it led you to meet your girlfriend? well, before the cheating, you would’ve had no idea why.

ellie’s hand in front of your face brings you back to reality, which is not fun. ellie is still sitting next to you on the couch and you have to ask her to repeat what she said.

“i was asking what you were apologizing for, baby. you were the one that got cheated on, not me.” ellie chuckles, but slowly realizes what she said. she see your eyes drop down again and the sadness returns to your face. while she’s quickly trying to come up with something to say to save herself, she stops when you stand upnn

“is it ok if i go use your bathroom real quick?” you sadly ask ellie, and she nods with a small smile on her face. you give her a quiet thanks and walk towards the shared restroom of ellie and dina. ellie brings her hands to her head and scolds herself. if you’re trying to make her feel better and give her a hint, this is NOT the right way to do it. she couldn’t shove down her feeling forever, but she also did not want to confess and risk losing you completely. she tried to clear her mind and think about what dina or jesse would tell her to do in this situation. while trying to focus, she could hear you shuffling around in the bathroom. she knew why you were really in there, she wasn’t stupid. thinking about that just made her feel ten times more guilty. she knew what to do.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

as soon as you go into the bathroom you lock the door and force the tears welling in your eyes to go away. you decided to wash your face with cold water to try and snap yourself out of your emotional roller coaster. you dry your face with the hand towel and turn to look at yourself in the mirror. you were still in so much shock at the events that happened tonight. you take in your messed up appearance and cringe. your bloodshot red eyes were not a pretty sight, and neither was the smudged mascara scattered underneath your eyes. you hope ellie wouldn’t be too grossed out by the way you look right now.

huhhhh?

woah okay the feelings are for sure back. you try to get yourself to look less dead inside by washing your face a couple more times. you opened the bathroom door and slowly walked back out to the couch. you sit back down next to her and put a blanket around yourself, meanwhile she is mindlessly scrollings through netflix trying to find something to watch before she stops on none other than you (and cats) favorite movie.

“oh hey what about this one” she looks over at you with a little smile on her face. you give her a confused look as to why she suggested this one, knowing it was cats favorite movie too.

“but, ellie, won’t that make you, i don’t know, sad?” you question. now she’s the one giving you confused looks.

“why is it like a sad movie or something? i didn’t think it was. i thought we could watch it because it’s your favorite movie and i thought it would make you feel a little bit better,” she smiles back. now you’re even more confused. for starters, she told you it was cats favorite movie, and also, you don’t even remember telling her it was your favorite.

“how’d you know?” you asked her. she replied with a little huh and you asked again. “how’d you know this was my favorite movie? i don’t think i told you that, and i thought it would make you sad because you told me before it was cats favorite movie.” ellie’s face suddenly turns from confused, to scared almost. she stated stuttering and couldn’t form a single word.

after a couple second of struggling, ellie says your name. “it’s not cats favorite movie. i don’t even know cats favorite movie. in fact, i actually don’t know a lot about cat in general.” she looks at you with an almost scared look. now she just completely lost you. when she realizes you still haven’t caught on, she finally begins to explain what she means after a long pause.

“it was never cat”. the room suddenly gets loud, very loud. your ears start to ring and your breath leaves your throat. you couldn’t believe it, again. the whole time you were pushing away your feelings for ellie, she was trying to do the same with her feelings about you. suddenly, you start thinking back to all the moments when you thought ellie was crushing on cat. slowly, more dots start connecting.

you glance over to where cat was talking to two other friends at a locker bay across from the two of you. it is pretty cute you thought to yourself. you frown looking down at yours. just a plain boring white skirt. you’re not the only one looking though. if you would’ve turned around to face your best friend again, you would’ve seen her also looking at your ‘plain boring white skirt’, grateful that she quickly replaced ‘your skirt’ with ‘cat’.

or that other night, after the blunt, when you were crying your eyes out to abby. ellie kicking herself outside and hoping, praying even, that you wouldn’t know the actual color of cats eyes, and that maybe you were even dumb enough to not know the specific details of your own (you were).

you wish you could go back and slap the old you in face, that way, you and ellie could’ve avoided this whole abby and cat mess and could’ve been together longer than you and abby ever would’ve been. now you’re staring up at, after she just confessed her feelings for you. you didn’t know what to say, well you did, you wanted to say that you felt the exact same was and you have since the day you met her, but you’re too slow so she keeps explaining to you.

“i’m sorry to bring it up, but when we walked in today, my heart broke. it didn��t break because i saw cat with another girl. it broke because i saw her with your girl, and i never knew anyone would ever be that fucking stupid to throw away someone as gorgeous, generous, and as selfless as you,” she pauses and you cry again for the millionth time tonight; however, this time the tears feel good. happy tears. she continues and says your name in the softest tone possible. “so again, it was never cat. it was you.”

“abby is not ‘my girl’” you cringe. ellie looks up at your quick response. “i always kind of hoped it was you.” you break apart your words, still scared to admit how you feel even though she just spilled her heart out. the response you got back though washed all your worries away.

“can i kiss you?” she asked quietly. you couldn’t believe it (x3). it was finally happening. every single event that happened up to this very moment has vanished from your mind. all you could think about was how you couldn’t nod your head yes faster. she gives you a beautiful grin before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and gently gripping our chin to pull you closer. at last, your lips touched and it was everything you imagined and more. after you two slowly made out for a couple minutes, taking a couple paused to breathe in between, the kisses started turning more aggressive. you jump as you felt a soft touch on ur upper thigh. you relaxed once she placed her full hand on you and rubbed it up and down. you let out a soft moan which made ellie groan and trail kisses down your neck. you whined as you suddenly felt her pull back. her eyes looked right into your eyes, and she placed her forehead against yours. you two panted as you stared into each others sinful gazes. silence took over for a while before ellie suddenly interrupted.

“can i take you to bed baby?” you bit you lip and nodded, your innocent eyes locked on hers. fuck, you were perfect. it made ellie’s iris’ turn black, and she slowly guided you to her room, littering your face with teasing kisses on the way there. she sat you down on the edge of the bed and got on her knees, lips never leaving yours. her hands caressed your thighs once more, rubbing outwards so that your legs slowly separate. your lips follow as she pulls away to see your skirt has ridden up and she smirks, staring directly at your wet panties. “oh baby” she groans, her focus fully on your clothed pussy, begging to be touched. you lean back and tilt your head so you’re staring up at the ceiling, eyes squeezing shut and a moan leaving your mouth as soon as you feel small kisses going up you thighs. “love those fucking sounds, baby. you’re so angelic.”

“el’s. t-touch me,” you beg, but she light slaps your thighs and gives you a couple disappointments tsks.

“sweetheart, you gotta ask nicer.” she pouts up at you, malice in her voice.

“please, el’s, i need you to t-touch me please” you drag out, embarrassed that she has you this worked up and she’s barely touching you yet. she smirks up at you and her kisses get more sloppy the higher she goes, and finally, her mouth is hovering above your cunt, her hot breath purposely breathing heavy. she loved watching you whine and jolt under her touch. how crazy she made you go even with just a couple kisses. she loves how much control she has over you, and how well you listen to her.

“lift up your shirt, pretty girl. wanna see you play with your tits while i eat this pussy.” her words alone make you want to cum, but then it would be over, so you pull yourself together and do as she said. out of no where, you felt a long lick up you pussy, you body tightening suddenly and letting out a humiliatingly loud moan. “that’s right, baby. let me hear you. do i make you feel good? hm?” you shake your head vigorously, staring down into her green eyes staring right back up at you. she now loops her arms around your legs and spreads them further, making you squeak. “fuck, such a pretty fucking pussy,” she moans, and slowly starts licking up and down continuously.

you’re a mess. one hand gripping her hair, trying to push her even more into you, making ellie grunt, her own panties quickly getting wet at how bad you wanna cum. your other hand is placed perfect cupping your left tit, playing with it just like ellie told you to.

“el’s you’re gonna make me cum,” you whine, your eyebrows furrowed and voice raspy. you look so fucking sexy right now, and ellie tries her hardest to take a mental picture for later.

“yeah? you gonna cum baby?” she teasingly asks you and you whimper out a mhm. once again speechless with the way ellie is slopingly eating your pussy.

you suddenly feel a finger teasing your entrance before it slowly slips in. your moans groan louder, and her pace quickens.

“el’s, ca- can i please?” you beg, the knot in your stomach was growing rapidly. she lifted her head up for less than one second, a stern ‘cum’ leaving her lips, before she returns back to where her tongue was. you scream as you do, vision going black as ellie fucks you though your orgasm, fingers now rubbing even faster on your clit, causing you to completely come undone and cum all over her face. she doesn’t stop until you’re shaking and overstimulating under her. when she does, the only sounds in the room are your quick pants, and ellie’s bed as she moves to scoot closer towards you.

“woah,” you say, still trying to catch your breath. “that was..”

“way overdue” ellie chips in. the two of laugh and you move to lean you head on her shoulder. it’s silent again before you finally speak up.

“i don’t think i ever really thanked you for taking care of my today. i don’t think i would’ve been able to have this much fun today if it wasn’t for you,” you tell her and you feel her hands that were once in your hair, come around and lift your chin to give her a kiss m.

“you don’t need to thank me pretty girl, i wanted to take care of you.” her confession made your heart flutter. “plus i knew that maybe i might have a chance to finally fuck you,” she teases you and you hit her arm, jokingly sending her a scoff.

“you’re right by the way,” she finally adds on. you give her a confused look and hope she takes the hint to explain what she meant. “you’re not abby’s girl.”

“i’m not abby’s girl,” you repeat.

“you’re my girl,” she tells you, eyes never leaving yours, a small smile on her face.

“i’m your girl.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

₊* a/n : ahhhh i really hope you guys liked it! 🤍 if you did please let me know because it would mean the world!

love you soooooo much MUAH

[teaspoontarot]

Pick A Card: What Will The New Year Bring?

Pick a pile 1-4!

These messages are meant to sweeten your day and add a teaspoon of fun! You will always know yourself and your situation the best, therefore everything written here is just to give you a little nudge or to add a little sweetness!

🍵 Teaspoon

Pile 1 💫

Back in business! This past year has had its ups and downs especially regarding the home or close friends. Possibly involving rumor or gossip that has caused tension and pain. You’ve opened the windows and let the air blow through so anything that didn’t need to stay has found its way out.This year you’re focusing on the practical side of life. The turning of a new leaf 🍃.

You’ve been honest with yourself and others and now you’re moving on! You’re no longer waiting for someone to join you in your life and are now focused on just enjoying the ride as it comes. Good tidings and joy for this new year, a more relaxed (or enjoyable) roller-coaster than the one you just got off of. This year isn’t so much about slowing down but more so appreciating how far you’ve come.

There’s still a lot left to do but from where you’re standing the view already looks pretty great. You’re putting down new roots and making a name for yourself!

The new year brings stability and foundation. A new business venture or recognition. A rise in self-esteem and better communication. Joy to be found in the unlikeliest of places.

Tarot Card For The Year Ahead

Two of Swords ⚔️

“Aim for a meeting of minds, for your mutual interest…working on trust and knowing when to trust a hunch”

Affirmations

“When I Think I’ve Surrendered, I Surrender More”

“I Speak Positively of Others”

“I Spread Joy”

Pile 2 ✨

Healing, healing, healing. Learning to forgive yourself and to love yourself with grace. There’s someone you’ve walked away from and the pain still stings. You’ve been stabbed in the side and still hoped that it was simply an accident.

You want to love and cherish so much that you feel a bit silly. Maybe you feel like you need to force yourself back to reality or that what you want simply isn’t for you. This is gentle reminding you that whatever happened does not mean the end. Very rarely is the world so black and white, and frequently things that are broken can be healed or find a new space in the world.

Do not be harsher on yourself than you would be to somebody else. You don’t have to always rise above it all, sometimes it’s nice to rest and find a place to sleep. Stormy waters do not make stronger swimmers, just more tired one. You may feel like you’ve been drowning for years and you’ve only been able to find stray driftwood to cling onto. You will find land, and it will feel strange but good. You’ve swam for so long it feels odd to rest. Forgive yourself for the rest you need. The help will fill it’s way to you.

Your new year brings much needed space, healing, and little discomfort but ultimately what is needed to find stability and foundation.

Tarot Card For The Year Ahead

Ace of Cups 💘

"The start of something wonderful: a taste of whatever is your Holy Grail”

Affirmations

“I Find Deeper Meaning, And Personal Growth Amid The Discomfort”

“I Am Forgiving”

Pile 3🎆

Dreams coming true! You’ve been focused and have faced obstacles you never thought you could get over. Now comes the easy part! Be excited and gracious as this new year rings in. The times when you were honest even though it scared you are pushing you forward.

Honesty does not have to be cruel, it can be sweet and show truth warmth for yourself and others. You’re finding the people who understand you the most and the goals you’ve carried on your back for so long you have finally found space for them.

You’ve climbed the mountain with a heavy burden and now it is time to enjoy the sunrise! Take a seat, have a drink of your choice and share a laugh.

The new year is all about joy, friends, family and an appreciation of what it took to get there. People have your back and you have theirs, true partnership! Love surrounds you in the new year! Enjoy it!

Tarot For The Year Ahead

Ten of Swords 🌠

“The battle has been won! Expect a hug release of pent-up energy in your heart and body”

Three of Swords 🌟

“You have the opportunity to establish the contract. Be fair in your arrangements”

Eight of Pentacles🌹

“A regular and reliable arrangement or resource: sometimes we just want someone who can comfortably deliver”

Affirmations

“My Energy Creates My Reality. What I Focus On Is What I Will Manifest”

“I Do Good”

Pile 4🌸

Everything that you're wanting is waiting for you but you have to let go of someone or something. This is the year of transformation or renewal. Spring is coming and it wants to invite you in with open arms. Let yourself bloom as you need to.

You are being asked to take a little more control in the matters that may be impacting you. There may be a hard conversation you will have to have with yourself about what you truly want. You have to be honest with yourself. There’s an open door waiting for you but you fear walking through it and worry about the consequences of such an action. A slight feeling of indecision but you already know the answer, it’s the moving forward that is scary.

There are people that will meet you on the other side, and there are others rooting for you to take that first step. Like baby bird trying to crack open it’s shell. The world is awaiting you, in all of it’s harsh beauty. Staying where you are will lead to discontent.

The new year bring you discomfort, but truth and the power to push forward.

Tarot For The Year Ahead

The Awakening🎊

“Accept a unique opportunity. Allow yourself to be overwhelmed. Make a liberating change in your worldview”

Seven of Pentacles✈️

“Don’t overthink a situation that simply needs to run its course”

The Hanged One🚞

“Be aware of an uncomfortable limbo. Being stuck in role”

Affirmations

“I Am The Dreamer of My Dream”

“I Consume Only My Fair Share”

“I Hold Purity In High Esteem”

“I Regard All Altars With Respect”