#if you want to know WHY I believe the things I do then I think I have some metas labeled for that reason

[creatingblackcharacters]

“The Ambiguously Brown Character™”- The Attachment to Eurocentric Beauty Standards

“maybe im petty but i wish people knew how to draw like different nose shapes. Sometimes I’ll see a character I like but im like that is not what their nose would look like.” @the-eldritch-it-gay

You’ve seen them before. The one character that has brown skin… And everything else about them is… an enigma. They’re not supposed to be white! You know that much… right? You can see what the designated white characters look like, so at least it’s not that. You could claim them as Black, if you want, and sometimes creators even demand that this character is Black. Depending on the quality, you’re either like “no, what the fuck is this” or you’re like “okay they’re cool, we’ll take them”. Representation is important. But… There’s a pit in your stomach that wonders… Are they really? Are they really supposed to be Black, is this really representation, or did the creators just toss a brown person in so all the Brown™ people could “have something”, so that they would look like they cared about “diversity” on their art resume?

Examples

Theseus, in my opinion, looks like a white man with a tan. Dionysus looks a little better with the similar skin tone, due to his purple hair coloration. Apparently people do think that at least Dionysus is a man of color. What’s interesting about both of these characters, is that they’re only about two desaturated browns lighter than Patroclus, a character in the game that we’re supposed to believe is Black (whom, in my opinion, also looks like a brown bucket tool character. I’m still claiming him, he’s my guy. But his design should have been more explicitly Black). Theseus and Patroclus are the two darkest-skinned dead humans in the first game. So… what was I supposed to think about these two? Was I supposed to think they are really dark white people, due to the thin textures of their hair? Are they men of color? Are Theseus and Patroclus supposed to be ashy because they’re dead, is Dionysus ashy because he’s dehydrated from wine? Why don’t the white dead people look off color? Hades was entirely too striking a game in use of color for the browns to look like… this.

Noe and Hibana are interesting. It was complete coincidence, the purple hair and eyes thing btw. Hibana is interesting because Ogun is an unambiguously Black character in Fire Force, and there are at least three other unambiguously Black characters in Soul Eater as well. So we know the mangaka knows how to draw Black people in their style! So… was this on purpose? Is this another of those ‘tanned anime girls with titties’ meant for shounen fan service? I’ve claimed Noe (Case Study of Vanitas) because Black French people exist and France has stolen so much from us already, but it is never actually specified what Noe is. He’s just the One Singular Brown Guy in this show, with regular, untextured anime hair. Are there more brown people in the manga? Is this explained? Because we know who is supposed to be white! If anyone else wants to claim Noe, they absolutely can, because we have no idea what he’s supposed to be. Hot Chocolate thinks he’s Indian, and I’m not going to argue that because… who knows! He very well could be!

My very first lesson addressed this, albeit lightly! There’s a reason that I said that if you gained nothing else from me, that’s what I want you to walk away with. Now that I’m on stronger footing with this blog, I can really get into the nitty gritty of what that really means.

Obligatory disclaimer: we are not a monolith!* As of 2015, it has been researched that African populations have the highest genetic variation on Earth*, with a lot of that genetic diversity in sub-Saharan Africa alone. This means that YES, there very well can and will be Black people with naturally thinner textures of hair, blonde, light brown, and red hair, straight, narrow noses, monotone lips, and lighter skin that comes more often with white people. There are enough genetic combinations within African peoples and of the African diaspora that I’m sure there are plenty of people that look the way people seem to want Black people in art to look, if those genes so express within them.

*as a scientist, I will say: while these papers seem fairly legit and I looked at many related articles and their sources, take Nature with a grain of salt. Though their vetting process has become much better, you can and should always do further reading on your own!

Here’s the thing: the possibility is not the issue here!

The first issue: I don’t have to teach anyone how to draw those features on Black people! It is evident, from the professional and fan art I’ve seen, y’all already know how to draw the features deemed highly by Eurocentric beauty standards. Those features are excessively focused on and promoted as part of “good art”.

The second issue here is that the average artist drawing a poorly done Black person is not considering things like genetic diversity when they draw them (and if they are, it’s usually as an excuse post-confrontation. Yes, I have seen it.) These creators are not designing these characters with the intent of them being Black with those features, they are designing “Black” people with features that they deem most aesthetic and are most comfortable with drawing.

And why do they deem those features most aesthetic? We’ve circled back to the point of this lesson!

Eurocentric Beauty Standards

Definition: beauty standards as defined through a white, western cultural lens, including but not limited to: straight, blonde hair, light eyes, pale skin, high cheekbones, narrow noses, thinness. It’s a way that white western people want other white western people to look to be considered classically attractive… and then enforced that on everyone else.

It affects people of color worldwide. Anyone that has ever had to deal with European colonization or imperialism has to deal with the interjection of Eurocentric beauty standards.

Examples

-Black women, standing at the intersection of Blackness and womanhood, especially deal with the constant pressure of Eurocentric beauty standards, being consistently told to hate ourselves due to our own ethnic features. It’s incredibly damaging to your self-esteem growing up; my mom told me that until I went natural at 17, I was determined to look ‘like a white girl’ because I thought it would make me beautiful, and it hurt her. And as for me, it was a stunning realization that at 17 that I had never really seen my own natural curl pattern before. My hair was in ponytails and such as a child, but as a teenager, growing into my identity, I had always wanted straight hair. I was in love with my coily texture, I couldn’t believe that I’d never seen it. An entire part of my own body, gone unknown, because I wanted to fit a beauty standard I would never reach.

-Kenneth and Mamie Clark: The “Doll” Studies: Black children- age 3-7 were shown white and Black doll babies, and were asked a series of ‘positive’ and ‘negative’ identification questions. Even by that young an age, most of the Black children associated things like beauty, kindness, and positivity… with the white dolls.

-“The Golden Ratio”: a survey was done in Britain (oh boy, here we go) to determine what people felt was the ‘most beautiful’ face, and apparently it all came down to “symmetry”. “International blueprints of beauty” they claimed, were applied, as humans “naturally seek symmetry”. In 2015, according to ye olde Daily Mail, this was the most beautiful woman. You'll never guess:

(It’s not even her natural hair color!)

-Another “research study” using E-FIT (Electronic Facial Identification Technique -- a facial recognition software used to create criminal profiles based on eyewitness descriptions; no WAY that THAT could get problematic!!) to determine what 100 people thought was the “most archetypal face of beauty”.

They came up with a figure similar to Kendall Jenner as the female option.

(Guys, we’re never getting out of here at this rate.)

-We’ve spoken about discrimination against Black hair before, and how natural hairstyles will be deemed less professional or appropriate for school, regardless of the brilliant mind that sits underneath it, and even the history of Black women having to cover their hair so as to “not steal the desire of white men” and ruin the status of white women.

Appropriation:

I try to have nuance on the Kardashians, but I have never liked Kylie, and it’s not because she’s not allowed to do what she wants with her body. I watched the world claim that she was so beautiful, that her kits were why her lips looked “so good”. Everyone wanted to have “full, plump lips” like the ones Kylie BOUGHT. But Black women’s full lips have been treated horrifically since racism was invented. In 2016 I watched racists dogpile and mock Ugandan model Aamito Lagum for her naturally full lips in her MAC campaign, after saying in just 2015 that Kylie’s lips were “top fashion and everyone wants them”. And she lied (not that we didn’t all know that)! She appropriated a look, and she lied about it to move product. And people who had no right to forgive her did so, and everyone moved on to make her a billionaire. Because full lips looked good… as long as they weren’t on a Black woman. I can’t even have my own lips, but she was rewarded with an industry for appropriation. No, I’m not getting over that.

I could go on, but I won’t. So what are some ways to address the existence of Eurocentric beauty standards potentially biasing our creation?

First thing: LET’S TRASH THE IDEA THAT BROWN SKIN AUTOMATICALLY MEANS BLACK.

Black people are not stupid, and we do have expectations. Splashing brown paint on your otherwise white character does not mean I’ll automatically think they’re Black. I’m going to look. When I see brown people in real life, I can usually tell when they don’t look like me. I don’t look at a South Asian similar to or darker than my shade and say “they’re Black”. Blackness is not just skin color, it’s an entire identity and sociological construct. Yes, you can tell us apart.

Acknowledge when you’re holding a bias:

For example: “Tall, dark, and handsome.” What did you picture? You must understand that different people had different ideas of what this meant, versus who it was actually meant to be. Because on its surface, that description includes tall Black men with dark brown eyes and dark hair! We’ve talked about this in lesson 3! Whoever came up with this phrase didn’t mean skin though, they meant hair and eyes- they meant white brunettes. Even in this, it was only meant to include whiteness. And we were all supposed to assume that, be damned anything else.

Part of that is knowing what things do and don’t fall under the category. They were listed off earlier: straight and wavy hair, blonde hair, colorful eyes, thin noses, high cheekbones, double eyelid with round eyes that “show youth and innocence”. People have been going the “aquiline nose” route lately to claim more diversity in nose shape but like… even that isn’t always going to be the case. Every Black person is not going to have an aquiline nose. It is not the “middle ground” of diversity. Draw us with some round noses. We look fine.

Often ignored (in depictions of Black people): afro/coily hair and natural styles, large, round noses, full faces, brown eyes, full figures that aren’t oversexualized, body fat. One of the characters from Craig of the Creek that makes me so happy is Nicole, Craig’s mother. When I look at her design, I see my own mother. I see a Black woman that… actually looks like Black mothers I know. It made me happy and comfortable.

White folk, you even do it to yourselves! I mentioned to a friend once that a good chunk of stories in our fandom with the blonde/brunette white character dynamic read like an Aryan fantasy: the blonde character will be treated like a god on high, the most beautiful of humanity, and then you’ll get to the brunette and it’s “my meek, mousy brown hair, my dull, brown eyes like dirt, and my tanned skin with freckles; no one would ever notice someone plain, nerdy, and unimportant like me until him” lmao like excuse me? Author, you okay there pal? Do you need a hug, lmao? I can’t take it seriously anymore. If y'all are being this mean to each OTHER about not hitting Eurocentric beauty standards, y'all are certainly not being nice or respectful about people of color- who never can- in your content! (and no, exoticizing Blackness is not respectful.) You should look out for how often this happens, and catch yourself when you’re doing it.

Creating with Intent (and the lack thereof!)

(This is so important I made the header larger)

You have to actually consider and reference REAL Black people when you’re drawing Black people. That seems like such an obvious thing, and yet it must not be, because these sorts of arts/the techniques used in them still happen.

For example:

credit to my friend @devilatelier; I asked for the worst Black art ever and he heeded the call!

I abhor art like this, and art that does varying versions of this. To the pit of my soul, hatred. I will not share your work if I catch even a whiff of it. Why? Because people know that this isn’t what we look like! If you get on the computer and type in “Black man with short hair”, option A is not even remotely on the first page. You’ll get nonblack men that show up, thanks to Google’s algorithm (another conversation), but the Black men don’t look like A. If you get on the computer and type “Black man with long hair”, you’ll even get Black men with all textures and styles of hair, including straight! And they still don’t look like B. Go ahead, I’ll pause- go type it in and see what you get. Have you ever seen a Black person that looks like these images? Be honest with yourself. Why do you let them slide, if you haven’t?

Why This Matters

So it’s not about the actual Black people in their lives that they’ve seen, that makes artists draw characters like this, nor a dedication to accuracy. Because if you were looking at us at all, you wouldn’t draw this. And yet, people draw it, and post it proudly. So there must not be any shame behind it, or they at least are comfortable enough with their target audience to think it’s presentable! That begs the question- who is your target audience, and do you include Black people in it?

It’s how people like Jen Zee can have a successful career at Supergiant despite drawing dark skinned people the way she does. It’s because studios recognize when their target audiences are not perturbed by, and therefore will still buy, their product. If poorly drawn Black people does not perturb audiences enough to affect the almighty dollar- or, in fanart situations, the value of popularity- then there’s no motivation to stop doing it! Who cares about the value and the demeaning of Black fans, right?

Think about it like this. You remember how everyone bullied the Sonic studio and they scrapped their entire reel? People do not get that much up in arms in solidarity about the antiblack treatment and depiction of Black characters. It’s how you end up with Wyll Ravengard on the drop of BG3. Because Larian could have stood on business, had some integrity, and said “this is a character we are going to develop, because there will be fans that look like Wyll, and deserve to receive our best efforts at inclusion.”

But instead, Larian said “this is what our majority fanbase wants, and apparently it is not a well-developed Black character” and released that game as it was. To rousing success. That was a choice. The antiblackness of both the fans and the studio, via their lack of concern about Black gamers, was involved in making that decision. We have to let go of the idea that antiblack racism is incidental, and not a part of the process- and that includes in character design.

I cannot tell you how much it shrivels my heart inside when I see a “Black” character with wavy hair. One, because I know the artist’s first thought was not to have a Black character with wavy hair, but because they draw white people with that hair and thought it was transferrable. Two, because if you wanted the aesthetic of hair down to the back… Locs could have worked! The same shape would be there! You can style locs in any way, and it would be fine! Even if you wanted them to have thinner hair, fine, but… I can see where the intent (and the lack thereof) is. We can see when you aren’t even trying for us!

I asked Angel how he felt about creating the “white man with the brown bucket” images, curious about how he felt given that he is more than capable of drawing Black people. His response was noteworthy, and consistent with my hypothesis:

“Thinking about it, these two drawings have been the most difficult thing I’ve had to draw, period. And it’s the first time I’ve actually felt nauseous during the drawing process from start to finish. I constantly felt like I was fighting off the part of myself that knew better, telling me that this is wrong. It felt like a betrayal, knowing what Black people actually look like and still choosing to be disrespectful. Especially because I worked on the first two and immersed myself in references and also Black youtubers, researching Black hairstyles. It felt like a betrayal to all of that to call these two (deliberately poorly drawn) characters Black, because they’re not. None of the Black people I found during my research (both photo references and videos) looked like these. at all. It felt cheap, it felt lazy. Creatively lazy in the way that you just take a white person and paint-bucket them brown and call it a day. In the way it makes you feel no pull to change what you do, or learn something new. Kinda like a thought terminating cliche. Unlike the first two, I used no references for them, but I mostly based them off of actual designs I’ve seen in fandoms, both fanmade and not.”

Conclusion

So what I want us to consider for now is: if we know that’s not what Black people look like, but so many people are willing to do and/or accept it without any mental dissonance… how much do they care? Why is this allowed to ‘pass’, if we recognize that it is not accurate, unless we think what we are being presented with is acceptable? Or at least, not worth fighting over? Why not? Why do you not think that this Black character deserves to be unambiguously Black? And why does that ‘better’ way to exist always come back to whiteness?

We’re going to get into this, as well as more into the other, more overt and equally harmful manifestation of these beliefs in the next lesson on Whitewashing! But I want you to simmer on this part, first.

When you draw a character that you want to be Black, not only should you keep in mind your intent of how you’re going to draw them, but it also means putting in the work to make sure you’re doing so. You do not put pen to paper and “accidentally” draw a white man lol, it came from somewhere- let’s shatter that connection that views white features as superior, as 'ideal for attention grabbing', so we can create better. Because remember, it is the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ hereby announcing (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : f1 grid x fem reader ; lewis hamilton x fem reader

summary : you can take the girl out of the sport, but not the sport out of the girl

tw : emotional, fluff

a/n : thank you so much to @amberjazmyn for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻 this ends on a cliff hanger ! and the time span is during the 2020- 2021 grid 🫶🏻 I was literally listening to judas by lady gaga while writing this 💀

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by charlesleclerc, lewishamilton and 1,839,378 others

ynshayk a last photo shoot with @ Ferrari and @ charlesleclerc before the season ends ! Thank you @ vogue for having us 🤩❤️

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user1 Y/N X CHARLES, THE LOOKS !?

user2 thank god she did not choose modelling

user3 WE DONT NEED THIS, WE NEED YOUR CONTRACT

user4 when are you signing the next wdc ?

user5 stop torturing us and GIVE US THE DEETS

user6 I hate that because of covid we can't even see her 😭

user7 I swear to god, this lady is a damn sadist

user8 MA’AM, YOUR NEXT YEAR CAR !?

user9 don’t tell me Ferrari Kip’s kicking her out

user10 ha, no-

user11 they love her

user12 I mean she does not have many wins -

user13 SHE HAS WAY MORE THEN CHARLES !?

user14 she got the seat after sebastian vettel, she deserved it

user15 2021 is Y/N’s year

liked by lewishamilton, scuderiaferrari and 3,479,489 others

ynshayk with the speculations going around with my contract, I hereby announce my retirement from Formula 1 at the end of this 2020 season. It’s been a journey I wouldn’t forget, and with a very heavy heart and neck, I say goodbye to the tifosi family and sport 🏎️❤️🏎️ a very big thank you to @ charlesleclerc for supporting me when I felt it was not worth it, I couldn’t have reached this far without you 💪🏻

view comments

user1 wha-

user2 WHAT !?

user3 DENIAL NO WAY

user4 don't do this to me at 3:57 am

user5 THIS MUST BE A JOKE

user6 IS IT APRIL 1?

user7 it's literally December

user8 crying a nile river here

user9 why did we not expect it

user10 we wanted a wdc 😭😭

user11 we support you whatever you do !!

scuderiaferrari please pass the tissues

user12 here admin 🤧

landonorris can’t believe you leaving me all alone 😔

liked by ynshayk

user13 next season, no chary/n?

charlesleclerc I will miss you too, shaky ❤️

liked by ynshayk

user14 we all know Charles cried while typing that

user15 shaky ? 💀

user16 it's a thing between them, Charles calls her shaky because after every win of hers, she always managed to fall down while getting if the car

lewishmailton congratulations on ending an excellent career 💪🏻🍾👏

liked by ynshayk

user17 the grid saying goodbye to her 😭😭😭😭

maxverstappen1 will miss you hijacking red bull headquarters

liked by ynshayk

user18 not max exposing her -

liked by ynshayk, carlossainz and 789,379 others

scuderiaferrari 3 years, 14 wins, 27 podiums, runner up world champion, rookie of the year, and a career which defied sayings. Y/N Shayk had an eventful career and we are glad that she was, she is and she always will be part of the tifosi family! Wishing her all the very best for her future !

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user1 admin I need tissues

user2 NOT THE OFFICIAL POST 😭😭

user3 I still can’t process it 😭

user4 I really wish this all turns out to be a bad dream

user5 the sebastian vettel horror

user6 ferrari lost seb and y/n

user7 who is the driver joining though ?

user8 I think they will announce near the new year

user9 ITS CARLOS

user10 WHAT

user11 check y/n's new post

user12 Carlos is replacing her

user13 MY CARLANDO !?

user14 carlos to Ferrari is deadly 💀

user15 and here I thought formula 1 was calm

user16 she came, she won and retired

user17 Rosberg inspiration 💪🏻

user18 SHE CAME, SHE SAW, SHE CAME, SHE SAW

liked by charleclerc, lewishamilton, carlossaimz and 2,589,378 others

ynshayk handing over my seat to one of the most talented person out there @ carlossainz, take care of @ chareslelcerc for me and try not to miss me too much 😙💪🏻😌 so excited for the 2021 grid 🤩

view comments

user1 NOT MY CARLANDO BREAKING TOO !?

user2 WHAT IS THIS 2021!?

user3 FIRST CHARY/N AND NOW CARLANDO!?

user4 I am excited for the C square era

user5 LESSGOOO 💪🏻

user6 I love how y/n is laughing after giving up on ferrari strategies

user7 middle pic be her laughing after escaping the ferrari attic

user8 I am glad everyone is getting their happy ending

user9 the fans are not 😭😭

user10 what will y/n do now ?

user11 probably spend her millions

user12 she is rich ?

user13 HAHAH- it's an understatement

charesleclerc I swear I am not crying, something got in my eyes

liked by ynshayk

user14 CHARLES 😭😭

user15 of course it will be emotional, they literally grew up together 😭

user16 can't believe the shaky and charles era is over

carlossainz will do ❤️

liked by ynshayk

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 278,367 others

f1wags 7 time world champion, Lewis Hamilton was seen in Paris with ex- Formula 1 driver, Y/N Shayk. A normal outing or love in the city of love ?

view comments

user1 that's it, I am going to the Himalayas

user2 I am coming too

user3 CANT WE GET ONE DAY WITHOUT DRAMA !?

user4 LIKE CHILL BRO LET US CHILL

user5 she literally said can't win one, but surely can fuck one -

user6 mate 💀

user7 LEWIS AND Y/N !?

user8 WHAT IS THEIR AGE GAP !?

user9 SHE IS BORN IN 1998

user10 13 years 💀

user11 they both are adults, can y'all calm down ?

user12 I am still not used to the ex formula driver 😭😭

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [3] - Downpour

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You're amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don't forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Thanks to @chibi-lioness for beta reading!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Evening rain comes out of nowhere.

Word Count: 4540

CW: Smoking cigars, explicit language

Series Masterlist

Fine.

Maybe you did have a crush.

And maybe the said crush was taking over all your thoughts to the point that you could barely focus on anything other than him, but that was completely normal.

Just like you and your best friend analyzing every single second of your interaction with your crush was completely normal.

“He actually lifted your car?”

You nodded your head, filling both her glass and yours with wine before tucking your legs under you.

“With one hand,” you said, leaning back to the arm of the couch. “He did that with one hand.”

“And you didn’t jump his bones right then and there?”

“No but I may have rambled about going to jail if the car fell on him and also not knowing who would take care of Theo.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” she asked with a scoff. “I’d take care of Theo. We’d come to visit you every weekend.”

“Thanks Julie.”

“I’d even sign you up for those inmate dating websites.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Uh, no thank you.”

“Hey, if you accidentally kill the ridiculously hot mutant guy—”

“Logan.”

“Yeah, Logan. If you accidentally kill him, you might as well exchange some dirty letters with someone else.”

“Can we please focus on the fact that I actually have a crush on him?”

“We absolutely can,” Julie grinned, swirling the wine in her glass. “Aw look at you! It’s cute.”

“It’s not cute!” you whined, slipping a little on the couch. “Julie, I talk absolute nonsense whenever he and I cross paths.”

“Babe, I mean it in the best way possible,” she said and motioned at your face. “I doubt any guy really listens to any word coming out of your mouth when you look like this, so you’re fine.”

“So not true,” you stated and sipped your wine. “I mean either way, it’s not like anything could happen between us so I’ll just, you know, fantasize about him and gaze at him longingly. Should be fine.”

Julie rolled her eyes at you. “Come on.”

“No seriously, because Theo—”

“Sweetheart,” she said. “You got pregnant at 18. Don’t get me wrong, I think Theo is the most perfect kid in the entire world but keep in mind that while we were all out partying, you were taking care of a baby.”

“It’s fine, I lived vicariously through you.”

“And now that you’re in your twenties and hot as fuck,” Julie said, ignoring your comment. “You don’t think it’s time to live a little?”

“It’d confuse Theo if I started dating around, especially with Logan—”

“Fine, then don’t date Logan. Just fuck his brains out.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because the moment I sleep with him, I will be trying to decide on the wallpaper of our future cabin in the woods,” you pointed out, getting a handful of popcorn from the bowl and she scoffed.

“I still can’t believe you want a cabin in the woods.”

“I want a cabin in the woods and I want a horse and a cat and two dogs,” you insisted. “Anyway, the point is, no strings attached is not a thing for me when it comes to a guy that hot. He lifted a car for me, Julie!”

“And you want him to lift you up and down repeatedly,” Julie said with a grin, making you throw a popcorn at her.

“I doubt I’m his type,” you said and she groaned.

“You cannot be serious.”

“No I am, because men like him go for…” you trailed off and threw your head back. “Ugh, I so want to show you his picture so that you’ll know what I’m talking about but I don’t have one!”

“I have this mental image of a very hot lumberjack in mind.”

“That would be correct,” you said before taking a sip of your wine, but then your phone started vibrating on the table and you frowned, then snatched it off the table when you saw the caller ID.

“Theo?” you answered immediately. “Are you alright?”

“Hi mommy!”

You let out a breath at the cheerful tone of his voice, then pressed a hand on your chest and checked the time on the phone.

“What are you doing up, bean?” you asked. “It’s late at night.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“I’m with auntie Julie,” you said and Julie grinned.

“Hi Theo, I missed you sweetheart!” she called out, making Theo giggle.

“Hi auntie Julie!” he said. “Mommy, I thought about it, and I solved how I can have fish.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, a smile pulling at your lips as you shook your head.

“I’m listening, bean.”

“Okay so,” he said. “We will get two fish, and we will put them in an aquarium, but like a bowl, not a huge aquarium.”

You hummed.

“That’s where they’ll stay at the weekends when I’m there,” he said. “And then, on weekdays, I will bring them here, and put them in the lake, and that’s where they can stay within the week! They’d even make friends with other fish!”

You let out a small laugh.

“Theo, my love,” you said. “How will you catch them again if you put them in the lake?”

He paused for a moment.

“Um, I’d call them by their names,” he said. “Cheeto and Popcorn. They’d come.”

“Fish don’t do that baby,” you said softly. “How about you make friends with fish there in the lake and on the weekends they can just spend time with their own friends?”

“Yes but—” he started but then got distracted for a moment by something. “It’s my mom!”

“I know bub,” you heard Logan’s deep voice and your eyes widened. You sat up straight immediately, making Julie tilt her head in confusion. “Tell her I said hi.”

“Mommy, Mr. Logan says hi to you.”

“Uh, tell him I said hi back,” you said after a beat, hearing Theo parrot what you said as you covered the bottom part of the phone with your palm, then mouthed ‘Logan’ to Julie.

“What?!” she whispered and you cleared your throat.

“And tell him to please watch that you don’t have any sweets before bed, for his sake.”

“No!”

“Bean.”

“Ugh fine!” he said. “Mr Logan, my mom says please watch that I don’t have any sweets before bed for your sake.”

You could hear Logan’s chuckle, making you bite at your lip before he spoke.

“Can I borrow the phone for a minute Theo?”

Your jaw dropped and you motioned at the phone frantically, and Julie pulled you by the arm and made you lower the phone a little so that she could hear as well. You pressed your finger to your lips, signaling her to be silent before Theo’s excited “sure!” and there was a shuffling on the other line for a moment before Logan’s voice reached you again.

“So no chocolate before bed then?”

Julie gripped your wrist, mouthing “hot voice!” to you and you let out a giggle, trying to focus.

“Nope,” you said. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

You could hear Theo in the background; “I think I can have one chocolate.”

“No no,” you said, shaking your head. “He can’t.”

“Sorry bub, whatever your mom says goes.”

“Um, Logan,” you said, your mind going overdrive again. “If he’s up this late, he will turn the puppy dog eyes on for dessert, and he can be very, very insistent but sugar makes him incredibly energetic, and he will end up blowing a hole in the wall because of his powers so you can’t—”

“Relax princess,” Logan said and you could almost hear his faint smile. “It’s fine.”

Julie’s eyes widened and she fell on her back onto the couch dramatically, kicking her legs in the air while slapping the pillow and you stood up, your heart beating in your ears.

“How’s the car?” he asked and you licked your lips.

“Oh I changed my mechanic, so it’s at the new mechanic’s shop for a couple of days. My friend has been driving me to work—” Julie waved a hand from where she was lying down on the couch. “But apparently it’ll be fixed the day after tomorrow so it’s totally fine.”

“Are you being safe?”

“I am,” you said. “Are you?”

“Am I being safe?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “What with lifting cars and stuff, it can be dangerous.”

“Half a chocolate!” Theo said as if it was the brightest idea in the world. “Half—Mr. Logan, can I have the phone back please?”

You ran a hand over your face and cleared your throat.

“Sorry about that,” you said and Logan chuckled.

“Not a problem,” he said. “Good night.”

“Good night Logan,” you said, your head spinning with excitement and you heard the shuffling, then Theo took a deep breath.

“Mommy, half a chocolate!”

“Not at night,” you said. “We’ve talked about this bean. You can have chocolate tomorrow morning after breakfast, okay?”

“But—”

“Theo,” you said. “After breakfast.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh.

“I know bean,” you said softly. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Mkay,” he said with a huff. “I’m going to sleep then.”

“Okay, I love you!” you said. “Call me tomorrow and be nice to your teachers, okay?”

“I will,” he said. “Love you too!”

He hung up and you let out a breath, then tossed the phone on the couch while Julie sat up.

“Oh he talks you through it!” she said, slamming the pillow on the couch. “I just know he talks you through it!”

“Julie!” you exclaimed, your cheeks burning and she let out a laugh.

“Oh please, with that voice…”

“That’s what I mean!” you said and flung yourself on the couch. “He’s…he’s so amazing and Theo adores him and he’s so good with him too and to repeat, he lifted a car for me!”

“Aw,” Julie said. “He’s gonna be such a good stepdad to Theo.”

Your jaw dropped and you shook your head.

“We’re not even thinking about that,” you said, pointing at her. “We’re keeping our expectations very, very low, okay?”

She hummed, then tilted her head.

“Do you want to check Pinterest for cabins in the woods to see which one could be your and Logan’s in the future?”

You paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you said. “That sounds like keeping our expectations low, sure.”

                                                *

Despite having drunk until midnight and consequently having a hangover in the morning, the next day went without a hitch. You’d only had a couple of rude customers, which in service industry counted as a normal day if not a good one, but because of last night you were more than ready to get home, eat a bunch of snacks and go to sleep.

Towards the end of your shift, rain started pouring and you couldn’t help the whine escaping from your lips, leaning back to the counter. You could hear your friend Stacey’s small laugh as she looked out the window, then back to you.

“It’s just summer rain love,” she said. “It’ll stop.”

“Yeah but I’ll have to walk to the subway under that rain and I don’t have a coat with me,” you pointed out. “Ugh. Great. I’ll look like a horror movie protagonist by the time I get there.”

“This is why I am a huge advocate of waterproof makeup.”

You hummed, chewing on the pen in your hand as you grabbed your phone to check the weather forecast, faintly hearing the door opening behind you.

“It says it’ll rain until—what?” you asked Stacey when you lifted your head to see her raise her brows at something by the tables area and you turned your head to look over your shoulder, your heart jumping to your throat the moment you did so.

“Logan?”

Jesus, he looked way too handsome. He gave you a small smile, running a hand through his dark hair as if he was trying to get rid of the raindrops clinging to it, then approached the counter.

“Hey.”

“H—hi!” you said, your voice going way too high-pitched all of a sudden. “Uh, welcome! It’s so nice to see you, what—what can I get you?”

“I can take his order love,” Stacey said helpfully. “Your shift is over, get home before rain gets worse.”

“No no, I can stay.”

“I’m not here to eat actually,” Logan said, making you pull back a little.

“…Is Theo okay?” you asked, your stomach dropping as the thought hit you and he nodded his head.

“Oh he’s fine don’t worry,” he quickly assured you. “He was trying to name all the fish in the lake with his friends while I was leaving. I came to take you home actually.”

You blinked a couple of times.

“You drove all the way here from the institute just to take me home?” you asked just to make sure you had heard him right and he nodded again as if it was completely normal.

“You said your car is at the mechanic’s.”

One of these days, you were going to melt into a puddle in front of him.

“You really didn’t have to,” you said. “I’d hate to be a bother, and I’m sure you have other things to do, so I can just—”

“What did we say about you being too polite?” he asked, his voice almost chiding in a teasing manner, making warmth spread from your chest to your fingertips and a smile you couldn’t stop lit up your face, making you shift your weight, way too excited to just stand there.

“Um,” you said. “Just—just wait here okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “I won’t.”

You took a step back, and rushed to the kitchen, making the line cook turn his head.

“Hey, leaving already?”

“Yeah. Paul, where’s the pie?”

“Over there,” he said, motioning at the counter. “What’s the rush?”

You grabbed the pie to put it into the container while Stacey entered the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend, and more importantly, why didn’t you tell me he was this hot?!”

“What boyfriend?” Paul asked and Stacey motioned at the window.

“Look, right there.”

“He is not my boyfriend,” you said, your cheeks burning and Paul stole a look out the window, then let out a whistle.

“I was going to try to win you over but holy shit, that’s one hot dude.”

“And get this, he came here to drive her home.”

“He’s just being nice.”

“Car sex in the rain, got it.”

“He is my friend!”

“Oh really? So you’d be okay if I went out there and gave him my number?”

You blinked a couple of times and scoffed a laugh.

“Yeah but he…” you trailed off, desperately trying to come up with an excuse. “He has a girlfri—he’s married,” you changed your mind mid-sentence, nodding solemnly. “Yeah. He’s not wearing a ring because he is having it cleaned, and also he has—he has this condition that he can’t have sex with anyone. A disease.”

Out of the corner of your eye through the small kitchen window, you could see Logan tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“When he does, his partner’s… lower region just falls off, and it’s very gruesome, and if you haven’t heard of that condition, it’s because he’s like the only person in the world who has it, they named the disease after him,” you added. “Doctors call him a medical wonder.”

Stacey turned to Paul.

“She’s so gonna fuck him in the car.”

“She’s not gonna do that!” you exclaimed and cleared your throat, pushing the box into a plastic bag. “I’m—I’m leaving, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Theo doesn’t need a sibling yet, use protection!” Stacey teased you and you shook your head, then pushed the kitchen door and stepped out.

“Hey,” you said breathlessly, your whole face on fire and you held up the plastic bag. “The pie as promised.”

He gave you a calm smile, his eyes darting over you.

“You didn’t bring a coat?”

“Um no, but it’s fine—” you started but before you had the chance to say anything else, he had already taken his leather jacket off to put it over your shoulders.

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Logan said as he opened the door for you and you stepped outside, Logan gently steering you to a truck with his hand on the small of your back, making you bite back a smile. As soon as you reached the truck and got in, you let out a breath and put the plastic bag on the back seat, then put your seatbelt on. Logan got in as well, then started the engine and began driving.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “Really.”

“No problem.”

“I could just put it in the GPS or…” you trailed off when you noticed that there was no screen or phone or phone holder in sight so you nodded to yourself. “I don’t—you know, I’m against being a prisoner to technology myself so I can totally relate, and yeah I’ll just put my phone here.”

You quickly found your home address and touched the screen, then carefully placed it on the dashboard and stole a look at him.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he said. “As long as it’s not about my condition.”

“Your condition?”

“Yeah, that disease you were talking about just now?”

Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping as embarrassment hit you, your cheeks growing hot and a whine escaped from your lips.

“You heard that?”

“Mm hm.”

You slipped a little in your seat, burying your face into your hands, the sight making him chuckle as you took a deep breath and lifted your head to look at him again.

“I can explain,” you said. “It’s just that…Stacey is—you know, she’s incredibly nice but I don’t think she’s over her last boyfriend and I was trying to spare her feelings. Wait, did you want to get her number? Because if you did—”

“No.”

A small spark of hope shot through your system.

“Oh,” you managed to say. “Okay. Um, sorry I made up a nonexistent STD about you.”

“No problem,” he said with a smirk. “But for future reference, you might want to go with the wife lie. I can’t get diseases.”

You nodded slowly. “Because of clean eating?”

“Because of the X-gene.”

You blinked a couple of times, staring at him.

“Wait, what?” you asked. “But Theo got sick multiple times after his powers showed.”

“Not for every mutant,” he said. “My body heals itself.”

“Against everything?”

“Mm hm.”

“What if we had a car crash right now?”

“I’ve been in car crashes, healed in a second.”

“What if someone attacked you with a knife?”

“Happened before, healed instantly.”

“What if someone shot you?”

“Multiple people did in multiple wars. I healed.”

You tilted your head. “I’m sorry, wars?”

“Like I said,” he said after a beat. “My body heals itself. Against injuries, and time.”

You frowned slightly, trying to make sense of what you’d just heard and as soon as the thought hit you, you gasped.

“Oh my God, Logan,” you said. “Did you know Marie Antoinette?”

“What?” he asked with a grimace, turning to look at you better. “What is it with you and Theo and France? He asked me if I knew Napoleon the other day.”

You raised your brows. “Did you?”

“No!” he said. “No, I was born in 1832.”

Holy shit, Julie was right.

You did have a thing for older men but having a crush on an almost 200-year-old man was just a little bit excessive, even for you.

A silence fell upon the car and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You okay there?”

“Yeah, just in disbelief,” you muttered. “Do you miss it? Back then?”

He shook his head.

“Not really,” he said. “It was terrible. Now is better, it’s just a little too...”

“Chaotic?” you asked and he scoffed, then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “A little too chaotic.”

“I mean I wasn’t born in the 19th century but I know what you mean,” you said. “Seriously, if I could just live in a cabin in the woods with Theo and a cat, two dogs and a horse, I’d do it. I even have all their names.”

“What are the names?”

“I’m glad you asked,” you said. “The cat will be Catapult—”

“Are you seriously going to name your cat after a pun?”

“Damn right I am,” you said, counting with your fingers. “The dogs are Underdog and Overdog.”

“Jesus.”

“And the horse’s name used to be Princess Pink Sparkle Her Highness when I was six, but now I think I’m just going to name her Hi-Horse so that someone can tell me to get off my high horse one day.”

Logan looked like he was in actual pain for some reason.

“But listen, the list used to go like, a cat, a dog and a horse, and I figured like, if I get one dog, why not have two, you know?” you asked. “I couldn’t possibly leave Underdog without a friend, because as much as I love cats, they can be kind of assholes sometimes to dogs, they can’t help it, so that’s how Overdog came into being, and there were also ducks named Comma, Colon, Semicolon, and Exclamation, and their babies were going to be named Parenthesis, Dash and Hyphen but then I realized that would mean I'd need to have the cabin next to a lake, and ever since I watched that one creepy horror movie I’m terrified of lakes at night because I really don’t think we should mess with any bodies of water and—” you managed to stop yourself and cleared your throat. “Just…feel free to stop me when I do this.”

“I like it when you do it,” Logan stated without taking his eyes off the road, as if he was talking about the weather and your heart started pacing in your chest while you gawked at him.

“…People usually hate it.”

“People are idiots.”

“Someone I used to know would cover my mouth whenever I rambled too much.”

“And you didn’t break their hand?” he asked and you scoffed a laugh, then shook your head.

“Nope,” you muttered. “That sounds like a good idea though.”

“It is,” he said, reaching out to grab the cigar resting by the gear stick, and opened his window a little.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” you said. “You smoke cigars?”

“Mm hm,” he said, patting his jeans for a lighter, then looked around the car before his hazel eyes fell on you. “I think my lighter is in the jacket pocket, would you…?”

“Oh sure!” you said and felt around the leather jacket over your shoulders, then pulled out the lighter and flicked it, the warmth caressing your hand for a moment before you held it out for him. Logan stole a look at you, his gaze stopping on your face illuminated by the flame before he leaned in to hold the tip of the cigar to the flame.

You had no idea why, but it felt strangely intimate.

“Thanks,” he murmured and you offered him a hesitant smile, flicking the cap of the lighter back before carefully placing it beside the gear stick.

“Sure,” you said, trying to snap yourself out of it. “Um, I used to smoke cigarettes. Mostly to look cool.”

“Did it work?”

“Not really,” you admitted as he stole a look at the GPS, then back at the road. “Never a cigar though, do you mind if I try it?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Corners of his mouth curled upwards. “Are you trying to look cool right now?”

“Hey, if you don’t think I’m cool after learning my future pets’ names, I don’t think a cigar is gonna help it.”

That coaxed a chuckle out of him and he held out his hand so that you could take the cigar from him. The moment your fingertips brushed against his skin, his hand twitched, a warmth spreading from your hand to your whole body. You swallowed thickly, your heartbeat getting faster and you brought the cigar to your lips with a trembling hand, then took a drag.

“Don’t inhale—” Logan started but you had already inhaled the smoke, a sharp pain stabbing you in the chest as soon as you did. Logan pulled over and through the coughs, you realized you were right in front of your apartment but you couldn’t even thank him as you pounded your chest with your fist, then took a deep breath and wiped at your eyes with one hand while handing him the cigar back with the other.

“Ugh, that’s terrible!” you whined. “You smoke that willingly?”

“You’re not supposed to inhale it.”

You made a face and wiped at your eyes again, sniffling.

“Not supposed to inhale it?” you repeated as you straightened your back to look at him better, your brows pulled together in almost a petulant manner. “What’s the point of it then?”

The calm smile that graced his lips was almost taunting and he reached out to wipe at the remnant of a tear under your eye with a knuckle, your breath catching in your throat.

“The taste, princess,” he said, his deep voice sending an excited shiver down your spine as he pulled his hand back. “The taste is the point.”

…Oh.

Oh you were so going to melt in front of him one of these days.

That wasn’t supposed to sound as suggestive as it did, you were sure of it but that did nothing to stop the fire spreading over your cheeks, making you shift a little in your spot before he nodded to the window.

“Is this your place?”

You had to force yourself to drag your eyes away from him and looked outside even if you knew where you were, then nodded fervently.

“Yeah!” you said. “Yeah that’s—that’s me.”

A silence fell upon the car and you cleared your throat, trying to snap out of the daze you were in.

“Thank you,” you said after a beat. “For…for all of this, really.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said and you looked outside again, now realizing the rain had stopped so you grabbed your phone off the dashboard, unbuckled your seatbelt and slipped the jacket off your shoulders, his unwavering gaze almost too hot on your skin.

“Good night Logan,” you said softly and opened your door to step out of the car, then made your way to the building. You climbed up the stairs, a giggle you couldn’t stop escaping from your lips as you unlocked your door, then stepped into your apartment and closed the door behind you before leaning back against it.

“Alright…” you breathed out, your heart beating in your ears. “Yeah, okay. I definitely have a crush.”

[russo-woso]

Expensive || Kyra Cooney-Cross

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Summary You and Kyra go baby shopping and don’t realise how expensive it all is.

“Kyra, please can we go in. Please.” You begged as you walked past a baby shop.

You were currently 23 weeks pregnant and were out food shopping but it wouldn’t hurt if you did a bit of baby shopping at the same time, would it?

You and Kyra had been together since you were sixteen.

You’d both met due to your mums being co workers and immediately hit it off, quickly becoming friends before lovers.

Just before the World Cup, you and Kyra had gone on holiday and she’d proposed to you.

You, of course, said yes, knowing Kyra was the love of your life.

That same summer, it was discussed that you’d be starting a new adventure in your lives:

Moving to England.

And having a baby.

The two of you were young, you knew that, but you both wanted a family.

That’s what leads you to today, 23 weeks pregnant with your baby girl.

“Five minutes, okay? That’s it.” Kyra told you, a stern look on her face which was soon replaced by a soft smile.

You both entered the shop, hand in hand, as you took in all the baby clothes.

“Look how small they are, Ky.” You whispered, taking a baby grow in your hands.

“It’s tiny. I can’t believe she’s gonna be that small.” The Australian said, rubbing your bump.

“I know. Look at these ones, they’ve got flowers on.” You pointed out, also resting a hand on your bump, feeling your daughter kick.

“We’ve got to get them.” Kyra said, placing the baby grows in the basket.

You watched as Kyra wandered, looking at the different clothes, often putting some in the basket.

You smiled, looking at the excitement on her face.

Most people didn’t often see this side of Kyra.

They all saw the side of her where she’d be classed as a pest, where she’s immature and can’t take things seriously.

That’s why most people were shocked when you announced the pregnancy. Everyone thought the two of you weren’t ready for a baby.

You, however, saw the mature side of her. The side where she would do anything for anyone, where she could take things seriously.

“Baby, should we get a car seat too?” She questioned, wrapping her arm round your waist.

“I thought you said we’d only be here five minutes? Getting a car seats gonna take more than that?” You teased

“Yeah, but I figured we might as well get one whilst we’re here.” Kyra said and you nodded, slowly walking over to the wall of car seats. “So where do we start? We’re getting the comfiest one for our princess.”

—

“I think we’re all sorted.” You told Kyra as you looked down at the trolley.

Yes, the trolley, not the basket anymore. You’d ended up getting so much, Kyra had to run and get a trolley instead.

Inside the trolley was piles of clothes, A box containing a car seat, A crib that Kyra insisted she’d be able to build herself, a pump for breastfeeding, bottles, dummies, and anything else that could possibly be needed.

“I think we are.” Kyra agreed, smiling proudly before pushing the trolley to the cashier.

After what felt like an hour of the cashier scanning all the items, the total number of what was due was announced.

“And that would be £632.84 please.” The cashier revealed and your eyes widened.

“£632?” You questioned in shock as the person on the till nodded. “Ky, that’s so…”

“Our princess deserves it all.” Kyra said before you could finish your sentence, pressing a kiss to your temple before paying.

Putting the items back in the trolley, you walked out the shop two hours after when you’d walked in.

“Mama loves you so much.” You told your bump as you waddled to the car.

“I do, I love both of you, no matter how expensive you both are.”

[wonhes]

WARNINGS: ….. angst 😺👍 + cursing

☁︎ — JUNE 24TH, 2024 10:58 PM

blinking to try and comprehend what they heard, they all blankly look at each other as anton’s words continue ringing in their heads. trying their best to put into words what they were all thinking, they continue staring at each other in complete disbelief. shotaro is the first to break the silence by loudly scoffing at his younger friend.

shaking his head at him, he takes a step forward towards anton. bringing the back of his hand up, he smacks anton’s chest causing anton to let out a small “ow.”

“and what the actual fuck posessed you to say that?” shotaro asks, disapproval written all over his tone.

“it was a joke!” anton quickly yells back as he rubs his chest.

“look around,” eunseok states as he moves to point at the rest of the boys. “is anybody laughing?”

“i panicked, i’m sorry!” anton sighs, bringing a hand up to nervously chew on one of his fingernails. “i was just trying to lighten the mood,” he mumbles to himself.

“you said sohee was going to get a restraining order against her!” wonbin quickly yells back. “in what world is that funny?”

“okay, i did not say it like that!” anton immediately argues back, shaking his head at wonbin’s words. he doesn’t understand why everyone is making such a big fuss. anton swears he has jokingly told sohee that before and it didn’t result in him crying. he genuinely does not understand why him making that joke towards you led to you crying and locking yourself up in your room.

“if anyone should get a restraining order is yn but on this guy over here,” eunseok sighs shaking his head as he uses his index finger to point towards seunghan’s direction.

rolling his eyes at eunseok’s comment, seunghan brings a hand up to flip eunseok off; this instantly causing eunseok to flip seunghan back with both of his hands.

“she literally texts him everyday! i was just trying to be funny,” anton continued on defending himself, ignoring the two boys bickering.

“god,” shotaro sighs once more. “anton, do you not know how to read a room?”

“your sister is in love with sohee,” shotaro states. with wide eyes, anton quickly looks at your friends for confirmation. when getting the confirmation he needed, he awkwardly shifts in his spot.

“she texts him every day probably hoping he’s going to magically unblock her one of these days– she wants to work things out with him but he refuses to hear her out,” shotaro sighs, shaking his head at sohee’s way of handling the situation. “you told her he was out of town so that most likely caused her to believe you’re still in contact with him–” shotaro continues explaining. “you made a tasteless joke about sohee getting a restraining order against her so she most definitely believes that came out of his mouth.” shotaro finally concludes.

“do you now understand why your sister is crying or do i have to dumb it down some more?” shotaro speaks up once more causing eunseok to let out a small snicker at his choice of words.

“wait—” eunseok’s eyes immediately go wide. “yn,” he says, turning to his friends as they all instantly gasp and make their way up the stairs to go to your room and comfort you.

from up the stairs, eunseok turns back for a brief second and points down at seunghan. “and don’t you dare step foot upstairs,” he states before turning back to continue walking up the stairs.

rolling his eyes at eunseok’s comment, seunghan lightly pats both shotaro and anton’s chest to signal them to follow the rest up the stairs.

JUNE 24TH, 2024 11:13 PM

“baby, open the door,” wonbin sighs as he continues to knock at your door. turning back to look at sungchan and eunseok, he shakes his head at them.

“pretty girl?” sungchan tries now, jiggling your doorknob.

“sugar plum, please!” eunseok desperately yells out, wanting nothing more than to be there for you.

“baby? sugar plum? pretty girl? what the fuck?” seunghan mumbles to himself, confused on the sudden pet names you were receiving.

shaking his head at seunghan, wonbin couldn’t help but roll his eyes at him. “platonically, asshole.”

“you’re just mad yn didn’t like it when you called her pretty girl,” eunseok quickly shot back, turning to smirk at the shorter boy.

gasping at his words, shotaro and anton bring a hand up to smack their friend. “you called her ‘pretty girl’?” shotaro asks in full on disbelief.

“you fucking called my sister ‘pretty girl’?” anton angrily asks.

“ow–” seunghan states as he begins rubbing his head and arm. “sungchan just called her that and nobody fucking cared!”

“she’s my best friend!” sungchan quickly reasons back. “besides, it’s platonically. yours on the other hand was not.”

“eunseok, what else has he done.” anton asks as he continues to angrily eye his friend.

“oh, i’ll gladly tell you–” eunseok begins as he turns to look at seunghan’s panic figure shaking his head at him, pleading him to stop.

“yn,” shotaro randomly speaks up. at the sound of his voice, everyone shifts their attention towards him and watch as he brings a hand up to knock at your door.

“what the fuck are you doing?” anton whispers out towards his older friend.

“trust me,” shotaro quickly answers back before softly knocking once more. “i know you don’t know me like that but it’s shotaro,” shotaro quietly says.

“i’m really close to sohee,” he adds as he continues speaking to you against your door. “you-” at the sound of the door unlocking and swinging open he closes his mouth.

“i didn’t kiss seunghan,” you quickly state, looking up at shotaro with tears spilling from your eyes.

softly smiling down at you, he nods his head at your words. “i know,” he reassures you.

“please tell him that,” you desperately plea with him.

as you watch him shake his head at you, you feel your bottom lip start to quiver. looking up at him once more you try to plea once again.

“i’m not going to tell him because you are,” shotaro says, sending you a warm smile as he takes out his phone to text sohee.

“i’m going to text sohee and tell him i’m coming over so he’ll know to expect someone over,” shotaro tells you as he finishes typing on his phone. “but instead of it being me, it’ll be you.”

shaking your head at his words, you couldn’t help but let tears spill. desperately running to whichever one of your friends was closest to you for emotional support.

“oof,” wonbin softly says, taken back at the sudden contact. quickly snapping out of it, he brings his hands to your frame to hug you back.

“he’s going to get a restraining order,” you sob, hiding your head on his chest.

hearing your words, eunseok annoyingly turns to anton as he brings a hand to slap the back of his head. “you fucking see what you did?”

“baby, he’s not going to get a restraining order,” wonbin lightly laughs to try and reassure you. “do you know how silly that sounds?”

“sohee told anton,” you mumble, hugging wonbin tighter to try and calm yourself down.

angrily turning to look at your younger brother, it’s sungchan’s turn to slap the back of anton’s head. “you fucking see?”

“ow— it was a fucking joke!” anton whispers back.

“he’s not going to get a restraining order, i promise,” shotaro states, side eyeing anton in complete annoyance. “sohee never said that, i swear.”

“i can even show you our texts–” shotaro continues trying as he takes his phone out of his pocket. “he wouldn’t do that.”

“he wants to talk things out, trust me. he’s just hard headed.” the older boy tells you.

“very hard headed,” seunghan mumbles to himself, agreeing with shotaro.

discreetly nodding his head at their words, eunseok slowly makes his way to where you and wonbin were standing.

“move. my turn!” eunseok pushes wonbin off of you and quickly takes over, hugging you gently as he places a quick kiss on the top of your head.

“what the actual fuck is your problem, eunseok!?” wonbin groans, shaking his head at his friend as he dusts himself off.

“what? i’m just trying to be here for my best friend,” eunseok reasons, causing you to let out a small chuckle at their banter.

“okay! now, it’s my turn,” sungchan says, making his way towards you.

smiling at the sight of you no longer crying, anton begins walking towards you as well. “i’m sorry you have a stupid little brother,” he sighs as he sends you a sad smile.

“i got nervous and made a dumb joke,” anton admits to you as he nervously scratches the back of his neck. “i’m also so fucking sorry for the way i spoke to you the other day, you didn’t deserve that all.”

“i don’t know what i was thinking. i was just so angry and instead of taking it out on seunghan– like i should’ve– i took it out on you,” anton sadly states, completely ignoring seunghan reaction at his sudden words. “i-” anton continues once more but stops at the feeling of your arms wrapped around his torso.

“it’s okay toni,” you softly smile up at him.

“not trying to interrupt anything,” shotaro speaks up, taking a step forward as he looks down at his phone “sohee texted back.”

at the sound of sohee’s name, you instantly turn to look back at shotaro. sending you a small smile your way, he nods at you. “go.”

“go get your sohee.”

☁︎ — JUNE 25TH, 2024 12:26 AM

with a shaky breath, you close your eyes to try and calm yourself down before bringing a hand up to ring his doorbell. at the sound of his doorbell ringing you feel your heart hammer against your chest even faster— if that was even possible. now or never, you keep quietly mumbling to yourself as an attempt to calm down.

“taro-” sohee tiredly says as he opens his door. at the sight of you in front of him, sohee does a complete double take and stares at you with wide eyes.

“h-hi,’ you quietly mumble, nervously playing with your hands.

staring back at you, sohee couldn’t help but take notice on how red your eyes were. have you been crying? sohee sadly asks himself. he feels himself wanting to reach out for you to reassure you everything was okay. but instead, he quickly shakes his head at his thoughts, forcing yourself to snap out of it. you’re with seunghan, he reminds himself.

“go home yn,” sohee sighs as he tightly grips on the door handle.

“baby, can we please talk?” you desperately ask, taking a step closer to him.

“don’t-” he closes his eyes to try and calm himself down. “don’t call me that.”

“pretty boy-”

“is this funny to you?” sohee groans out as he steps outside while looking at you with tears in his eyes. “stop teasing me and go home.”

“i’m not-” you try but get interrupted by sohee’s scoff. “sohee, please.”

“yn, what do you want to talk about?” sohee asks, shaking his head at you. “if you wanted seunghan, you could’ve told me, you know?” he sadly states. “i would’ve backed off.”

“i don’t-”

“i heard you and anton talking that day,’ sohee cuts you off, not wanting to hear any of your lies. “god, i’m so fucking stupid.”

“baby, you’re not,” you quickly move towards him to comfort him causing him to take a step back, away from you. sadly looking down at the space between y’all, you try and swallow your tears despite your heart breaking by the second.

“please, go home.” sohee tries again, gesturing you to walk away

“i’m not going anywhere until you listen to me,” you firmly state, shaking your head at him. “bab-”

“don’t call me that!” sohee brokenly stops you. “you lost the privilege to call me that the second you decided you wanted my best friend,” he angrily brings a hand to wipe away his tears.

“i don’t-” you try talking once again but are once again stopped by sohee talking over you.

“i’ve been so fucking in love with and i thought-” sohee gulps. “i thought you were starting to feel the same way too. i thought it was finally mutual.”

“sohee,” you sadly say as you take a step forward to grab his hand. not having it in him to move once again, sohee lets you grab him. letting out a small sniffle, he brings his attention back towards you. at the sight of his tear stained cheeks you feel your heart break all over again.

“d-do you like seunghan?” sohee hesitantly asks as more tears begin to cloud his vision.

“baby, no,” you gently say, as you bring a hand to cup his cheek and wipe away his tears. “i like you.”

“then why did you kiss him?” he sniffles.

“i didn’t kiss him,” you begin, causing sohee to shake his head at your words and take a step back away from your touch.

“baby,” you desperately try to reach out for him. placing both of your hands on his cheeks, you try and get him to look at you. “look at me, please.”

listening to you, sohee hesitantly removes his focus from the ground and makes eye contact with you.

“the thought of you and seunghan together hurts me so fucking much,” sohee admittedly whispers out. shaking your head at his words, you bring a hand down and place it against his, intertwining his fingers with yours. “it hurts— it hurts so much,” he repeatedly mumbles.

“i didn’t kiss seunghan.” you reassure him.

“but, anton said-”

“i didn’t kiss seunghan but anton did walk in on seunghan trying to kiss me,” you hesitantly told him. processing your words, sohee finds himself letting go of your hand and creating distance between you two.

“baby, wait. please listen to me,” you say, catching his hand before it fully slipped away.

“were you gonna kiss him back?” sohee asks, looking down at you with watery eyes.

“no.” you immediately reassure him. “i only ever want to kiss you.”

“have you ever had feelings for seunghan?” sohee sadly asks, still trying to piece together the whole situation. “please don’t lie to me.”

☁︎ — JUNE 25TH, 2024 1:48 AM

sitting down on his bed, you nervously chew on your bottom lip as you wait for sohee to speak up. you were finally able to explain everything and he’s been quietly processing the situation ever since.

“why didn’t you tell me he was pursuing you?” sohee breaks the silence, looking at you with hurt written all over his eyes.

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” you try reasoning with him. “i thought i was protecting you—”

“bab- yn” sohee sighs. “that’s not protecting me, that’s leaving me in the dark.”

“my best friend was going after my girlfriend, don’t you think i would want to know that?” sohee bitterly laughs. “i would’ve loved to know that my girlfriend once had feelings for him too.”

“baby, it was just a tiny crush.” you quickly jump to your defense. “i was in denial—”

“you still should’ve told me,” sohee lets out one last sigh as he brings his hands up to rub his eyes.

“i should’ve,” you nod your head at him and shift your focus down to your hands.

“it’s getting late you should go-”

“that’s it?” you sadly ask, looking at him with wide eyes.

“are we still-”

“we can be friends,” sohee cuts you off, offering you a small smile. “i don’t think we should date.”

“ever?” you quietly ask. “never again?”

“c-can i fix this?” you hesitantly ask. scooting closer to him, you take his hand in yours. “i can fix this, i promise.”

“yn,” sohee mumbles, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

“this was all just a big misunderstanding,” you desperately plea with him.

“pretty girl, you still kept secrets from me,” sohee softly states. “i’m not mad at you,” he reassures you. “we can still talk but as friends— at least just for now.”

“friends,” you defeatedly state, scared that if you continue pushing he might completely pull away from you again.

not being able to help himself, sohee leans forward and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. there’s no denying that he still holds— and will always hold— strong feelings for you but truth be told, he’s terrified to try again. so, he’ll settle for a friendship instead, at least just for now. “friends.”

☁︎ — CLOUD 9

CHAPTER 44 — friends

summary !! after years of constant pining after his best friend’s sister, yn finally takes notice of sohee and sohee swears he’s on cloud 9. or in other words, loser sohee finally gets the girl.

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CLOUD 9 MASTERLIST

˚౨ৎ˚ taglist — @acidwon @astro-doll-the-star @addorations @aeoliannie @bbina @cake1box @callanton @calumsfringe @d3junlys @emohoon @ffixtionista @gyehyeonist @haeeeeefer @hakkkuu @hisrkive @https-yeonjun @ikaerina @idkhoomanmaybe @jeeluv @jiaisfox @angelseokjinie @kaelysian @keilovr @lakoya @lcvehee @lecheugo @llearlert @lostinneocity @miyawwn @molensworld @nishimuraii @nujeskz @odxrilove @onlyhyunjin @parkwonbinie @renjuneoo @riizewrld @rksbae @rosesfortaro @saranghoeforanton @secretiny @shoberi @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @st4rryhae @sunflowerbebe07 @spookybias @talk022 @totheseok @whatsk-poppinhomies @whoisgwyn @wonbin-truther @ywnzn

[theshift]

The Breakout

Before everything fell apart, Marcus had a life that he was proud of. He wasn’t some thug or low-life; he had his routines, his ambitions. Boxing was his escape, the one place where he felt in control. He spent hours in the gym, the sound of fists hitting heavy bags and the smell of sweat filling the air as he trained. There was something about the discipline, the focus, the rhythm of a good fight that made the chaos of the outside world fade away. He wasn’t a pro, but he was good—damn good—and he was starting to get noticed. On weekends, he’d run along the river, feeling the early morning breeze, imagining his next match. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was his, and he had a future lined up. That was before it all got ripped away—before he was framed for a crime he didn’t commit. Now, that life seemed like a distant dream, one he’d never wake up to again. The real world, the one he’d worked so hard for, felt like it had vanished forever.

Marcus had been in prison for two long months. His life had been ripped away, and now he was just another inmate waiting for judgment in a system that didn’t care.

But even worse than being locked up was dealing with Officer Nathan, the patrol officer who took sick pleasure in making Marcus’s life miserable. Nathan was cruel. Every day he found a new way to degrade Marcus. Whether it was spilling his food on the ground or shouting insults that cut deeper than the metal bars around him, Nathan loved to remind Marcus who was in control.

Today had been no different. As Marcus sat on his cot, his mind still reeling from the news of his sentencing—fifteen years—Nathan showed up at his cell with that same smirk.

“Well, well, look at you. Fifteen years, huh? Guess you’re gonna rot here for a while,” Nathan sneered, leaning against the bars. “Bet you thought you’d get off easy. But nobody cares about some low-life scum like you.”

Marcus clenched his fists, staring at the floor. He couldn’t believe it. Fifteen years for something he didn’t do. His whole life—gone. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to ignore Nathan’s voice.

“You know what the best part is?” Nathan continued, his voice dripping with cruelty. “You’ll be here, getting old and wasting away, while I’m out there. Free. Living my life. Makes you wonder why you even bother fighting, doesn’t it?”

Marcus’s body tensed. “I didn’t do it.”

Nathan barked out a laugh. “Sure, that’s what they all say. Keep telling yourself that, Marcus. Doesn’t change a damn thing.” He tapped the bars with his baton, a sharp clink ringing out. “You belong here. And I’m going to make sure every day feels like hell for you. Count on it.”

Marcus couldn’t take it anymore. The injustice, the humiliation—it all boiled inside him. He couldn’t live like this, not for fifteen years. His hands shook, his breath coming in sharp gasps as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You look like you’re about to cry. Go ahead,” Nathan jeered. “Cry like the pathetic loser you are.”

Something snapped inside Marcus.

“You think you’re untouchable,” Marcus muttered, his voice low, trembling with rage.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

Marcus slowly lifted his head, eyes burning with something darker, something Nathan had never seen before. “You think you’re better than me because you’re on that side of the bars? Because you can do whatever you want to people like me?”

Nathan chuckled, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes now. “Yeah, I do. What are you gonna do about it?”

Marcus’s lips twisted into a cold smile as he stood up, his body humming with a power he had always kept hidden, a power he had refused to use until now. His gaze locked onto Nathan, and the room seemed to thrum with a strange energy.

Nathan stepped back from the bars, suddenly on edge. “What’s your deal, man? Sit down before you do something stupid.”

But Marcus didn’t stop. His eyes were like burning coals, and a strange pressure filled the air around them. He closed his eyes, focusing inward, feeling the dark energy swirling within him like a storm, ready to be unleashed.

He had never wanted to use his gift, but this was different. This was survival.

Marcus's body felt weightless as he reached out mentally, a strange, ethereal sensation that began to rise from the depths of his chest. The connection to Nathan was immediate—a tether of energy, dark and tangible, latching onto him like invisible chains. Marcus’s mind surged toward Nathan, slipping through the cracks of his consciousness, feeling his presence as if it were a physical thing.

The shift was sudden, a jarring sensation that sent Nathan stumbling backward. His hands shot up to his head, as if he could physically block Marcus’s intrusion, but it was already too late. Marcus could feel Nathan’s mind now—panicked, scattered, full of raw terror.

“No—what are you doing?” Nathan’s voice was sharp, trembling with fear.

Marcus’s smile widened. His consciousness flooded Nathan’s mind like dark water, consuming him, pushing past every mental wall the officer tried to erect. It was a slow process, deliberate, like sinking into quicksand, inch by inch, until Nathan’s screams became muffled in the back of his own mind.

Nathan staggered back against the wall, his body twitching as Marcus took over. From the outside, it looked like Nathan was having some kind of seizure, his face contorting in shock as his limbs jerked, resisting the possession. But Marcus was relentless. He pushed deeper, feeling his own awareness settle into Nathan’s body as though slipping on a perfectly tailored suit.

Nathan's mind screamed, trapped now as a mere voice, a presence that Marcus could feel but had full control over. “Stop! Get out! You can’t do this!”

Marcus ignored him. He flexed Nathan’s fingers, feeling the strength of his new form. The once-familiar prison walls looked different through Nathan’s eyes—sharper, crisper. Marcus rolled his shoulders, testing the muscles that now responded to his command.

Inside, Nathan’s terror grew. “What are you—get out of my body!”

Marcus’s laugh, low and cruel, rumbled through Nathan’s throat. “Oh, Nathan… you’re not in charge anymore.”

With one final surge of effort, Marcus forced Nathan’s consciousness into the back of his mind, shoving him deep into a corner, trapping him in the prison of Marcus’s old body. Nathan was now locked away, his pleas for help falling on deaf ears as Marcus stood tall in his stolen skin.

Nathan, now trapped in Marcus’s body, staggered forward, horrified at the sight of his own hands—Marcus’s hands—reaching out toward him, mocking him. He tried to scream, but Marcus simply sneered. “Enjoy being on the other side of those bars. I’ll make sure to give you the same treatment you gave me.”

Marcus felt the real Nathan's panic, buried deep inside his old body, helpless and confused, as the guards dragged him away. “No! You don’t understand—I’m not Marcus! I’m Nathan! Please!”

But no one listened. To everyone else, it was just Marcus losing his mind.

Meanwhile, Marcus—now fully in control of Nathan’s body—strolled through the prison halls, relishing the newfound power. Nathan’s voice screamed in the back of his head, but Marcus simply tuned him out, reveling in the freedom and control he had never felt before.

“You’ve had your fun, Nathan,” Marcus muttered under his breath, his voice sounding strange but powerful. “Now it’s my turn.”

Nathan was trapped inside Marcus’s body, powerless, screaming silently as Marcus turned and walked down the hallway in his new form. The other guards greeted him with nods of respect, completely unaware of the switch.

As Marcus settled into Nathan's body, something unexpected surfaced from the officer's memories—Nathan was secretly into men. Hidden beneath his tough exterior and cruel demeanor was a desire he had never dared to act on, a truth he kept buried deep, afraid of what it would mean for his image as the hardened officer. And to Marcus's surprise, Nathan had even found him attractive, though he would have never admitted it. The irony was delicious.

Now, with full control of Nathan's body, Marcus realized he could have the life Nathan was too scared to embrace. He wasted no time. With Nathan’s face, his fit build, and authority, Marcus quickly began to attract attention, something Nathan had always fantasized about but never had the nerve to act on. Marcus, on the other hand, had no qualms about indulging in what Nathan had suppressed. Within days, he had hooked up with men who were drawn to his new appearance—something Nathan had always dreamed of but never had the courage to pursue. It wasn’t just about the power; it was about taking Nathan’s secret desires and living them out in ways Nathan never could.

More days passed, and Marcus, now in Nathan’s body, relished every moment of his new life. He took over Nathan’s duties, tormenting the real Nathan—trapped inside Marcus’s old body. Every time Marcus walked by, he could see the fear in his own face, the panic in Nathan’s eyes as he tried to tell the guards what had happened.

“Nobody’s listening, Nathan,” Marcus whispered one day as he passed by the cell. “They think you’ve lost it. Crazy, isn’t it?”

Nathan, trapped and powerless, screamed, banging on the bars of the cell. “Stop this! Please! I’m not Marcus! I’m not him!”

But no one believed him. To the other guards, he was just another inmate losing his mind.

Marcus continued his life as Nathan, basking in the power that came with it. He spent a week tormenting the real Nathan, letting the other guards treat him the same way Nathan had treated Marcus. The irony wasn’t lost on him, and he loved every second of it.

One day, Marcus stood in front of a mirror in Nathan’s office, staring at the reflection of Nathan’s face. A thought struck him.

“Why waste this? Why stay here as some low-life prison officer?” he murmured to himself. He grinned, running a hand over Nathan’s strong jawline. “I could do so much more.”

The next morning, Marcus handed in Nathan’s resignation. He was done with this place, with this pathetic life. He had bigger plans. He left the prison behind without a second glance, the real Nathan screaming in his own body, now doomed to serve the sentence Marcus was supposed to endure.

And Marcus? He moved to the city, reinvented himself as a model. Nathan’s looks, once wasted on cruelty, now served Marcus well. The spotlight loved him, and he embraced his new life, his new identity.

As Marcus rose to fame, Nathan remained locked in a cell, forgotten, living the nightmare he had once created for others.

And Marcus? He was finally free.

[kyletogaz]

kyle seducing the cold detached woman who's levels above his station 😔

yeah so i wrote way too much

pairing: kyle garrick x fem!reader | cw: third person pov, hints to childhood trauma, therapy is mentioned, smut

it doesn’t help that he has a big fat crush on her. and she knows this, but couldn’t give two fucks.

kyle has never had to work this hard to get someone into his bed. he’d barely turn on the charm and would still have them dropping their panties. but this woman in particular, she made him realize it wasn’t going to be easy and he’d have to work for it.

kyle starts giving her flowers with cute little notes attached and she just chucks them into the trash because, “i don’t like roses, garrick. stop sending me flowers.”

kyle does not listen to her at all though. every bouquet he buys gets thrown away, much to his dismay. she’ll never tell him this, but one day she ended up giving a vase of flowers to one of her girlfriends because they were far too pretty to be in someone’s trash bin. eventually, kyle stops sending flowers and steps his game up.

he starts leaving chocolate on her desk, her favorite brands at that. it’s the fancy and expensive kind too.

at first, the chocolate just sits on her desk untouched. she would rather eat a jean jacket than to admit she finds it kind of cute that kyle refuses to give up. her icy exterior begins to dissolve a little when he starts popping up with snacks, jumbo crossword puzzles, and books for her to read.

“i’m still not entertaining whatever you think is going to happen between us, garrick. keep your delusions to yourself,” she says flatly, but thanks him and accepts his gifts anyway.

kyle just laughs and says, “we’ll see.”

his response bothers her for the rest of the day and she can’t figure out why.

her heart softens even more when her birthday arrives and she’s stuck in her office doing paperwork. she’s absolutely miserable about it, until kyle knocks on her door, her words getting stuck in her throat when she sees the cake and balloons he has for her.

“why would you do all of this!?” she asks hotly, once she’s regained her composure. she doesn’t even know why she’s so upset with him in the first place. he’s just being nice.

“because you deserve it, and you shouldn’t have to spend your birthday alone.”

she wants to rage at him some more. she wants to throw him out and tell him to never come back because somehow he’s managed to worm his way into her heart. she wants to kick him in his shin for making her fall for him. but because she can’t bring herself to do any of that, she lets him stay to sing happy birthday to her.

and if kyle’s visits become more frequent after that, she can’t find it in herself to complain. his presence makes her happy.

kyle can be a very persistent man when he needs to be, but he chooses to believe she’ll change her mind about him eventually. she’s been opening up to him more, and he considers that progress.

he remembers the first time he met her. she was a pretty thing with a no nonsense attitude. he knew he was down bad for this woman when he’d come to her defense whenever he heard people calling her a bitch around base.

and today was no different. she was well aware of the names people called her, but she really didn’t give a shit. “it doesn’t hurt me,” she says to kyle, who’s currently holding a recruit by the collar of his shirt.

he’d been within earshot of the little bastard addressing his soon to be sweetheart by several unpleasant names that made his blood boil.

kyle is more than pissed off, especially after she orders him to let the young recruit go. “you hear the names they call you, the things they say. and yet you do fuck all about it,” he snaps before sighing. he’s not mad at her though. he’s just a little frustrated because she won’t so anything about it. he refuses to believe that nothing bothers her.

she stares at kyle in shock. he’s never spoken to her like this before, and she doesn’t like it one bit. so she tells him to get out.

but unfortunately for her, kyle doesn’t budge. “nah,” he says, before taking a seat on the chair in front of her desk. “i think i’ll sit here a little longer. you can finish your work, i won’t bother you.”

she just huffs at him, then picks her pen up and resumes her work.

when she’s done, kyle is still there. he has his earbuds in and he’s laughing quietly at something on his phone. she just knows he’s on tiktok. probably watching some video about a cat. when she finds herself staring too hard and enjoying his laughter just a bit too much, she nudges him under the desk with her foot.

kyle pulls his earbuds out and sits up straight. “you finished, love?”

love?

it’s the first time he’s called her that, and it wrecks her a little bit. i don’t deserve him, she thinks to herself.

she just nods silently in response to his question, not trusting herself to speak and only doing so when kyle offers to walk her to her quarters. if he’s surprised when she says yes, he doesn’t show it. he just ushers her out of the office and down the hallway.

when they arrive at her door, she thanks him. kyle just waves her off and says, “anything for you, sweetheart.”

“stop calling me that,” she huffs. “and stop doing whatever this is.”

she watches as kyle’s brows furrow in confusion. “what is it that you think i’m doing?”

“if you wanted to get into my pants, you could have just asked.” she actually laughs when kyle stares at her in surprise. “and don’t act so shocked, garrick. i’ve known what you wanted since day one.”

“do you?” kyle asks as he steps into her space, watching in amusement as she fumbles to come up with an answer. he knew she would have told him to fuck off when they first met. “if you think sex is all i want, then you’re wrong. i want you.”

she’ll lie about it for the rest of her life if anyone ever asks her how she responded to kyle’s statement. instead of tearing him apart with her words, she gets a little teary eyed, much to her embarrassment.

“you shouldn’t want me,” she whimpers. “i haven’t been very nice to you.”

kyle just shrugs and lets her know that he likes a challenge every now and then. he doesn’t let her respond. he bids her goodnight with a kiss on her forehead, then gently shoves her into her room.

kyle walks her to her room again the next evening, and this time, he bullies her into inviting him in. she almost had a fit when he climbed into her bed and demanded she cuddle with him. at first, the word no was at the tip of her tongue, but then the intrusive thoughts won that round.

she’d struggled with how intimate it was to have kyle’s arms around her, not wanting him to touch her because she knew it would shatter the walls she’d carefully built over the years. he took one look at her and told her to stop fighting her feelings. she’d almost snapped at him, until she saw the look in his eyes. she’d hurt him and herself if she told him no. so she surrendered herself to him completely.

“it’s just for tonight, you can go back to hating me tomorrow.”

her heart breaks when kyle says it so casually, as if he’s trying not to make it a big thing, when it absolutely is.

she’s never hated kyle a day in her life. she just doesn’t understand why he wants to be with someone as cold as her? why would he want to be with a woman who was so damn traumatized, she thought everyone who approached her had some ulterior motive. having an unpleasant childhood and learning not to trust anyone would do that to a person.

during a session, she spoke to her therapist about kyle. she even told the other woman about the gifts he gave her. he won’t leave me alone, she had complained.

have you asked him to leave you be?

well, no. but—

think about why that is.

she’d almost quit therapy that day. she didn’t want to think about kyle and the way he made her feel.

after the life she’d lived, she promised to never let anyone get close enough to see how vulnerable she could be. she was convinced they would just take advantage. so she hardened her heart and became more frigid as the years went by. sometimes when she looked in the mirror, she didn’t see an ounce of her past self.

“you’re tense.”

her body gives a little surprised jolt at the sound of kyle’s voice. “i’m sorry,” she mumbles, while trying to relax in his arms.

“what’s on your mind?” kyle asks, before pressing a kiss to her forehead and stroking a hand down her back.

she shrugs and tells him not to worry about it, even though she knows it’s already too late for that.

“don’t do that. there’s something bothering you, sweetheart.”

she sighs softly, before lifting her head off his chest. “you’re right, but i don’t want to talk about it right now. just hold me please.”

and it’s truly a blur after that, not knowing how she ended up on her back with kyle’s fingers intertwined with hers and his cock buried deep in her pussy. he’s already syphoned one orgasm out of her with his tongue, and now he wants to have her creaming around his cock this time.

she’s not sure what she’s gotten herself into. because when kyle gives her the filthiest grind against her pussy, his leaking cock pressing up against her g-spot, her eyes roll so far back into her head, she’s surprised they don’t get stuck. a pleasure filled sob spills from her lips when kyle does it again and again until she’s clawing at his back and wailing so loud, he has to quickly smother her cries with his mouth.

he knows she’ll probably never life it down if someone walks by the room and hears how loud she can be when she’s getting fucked within an inch of her life.

kyle actually has the audacity to pause mid thrust to say, “damn, i didn’t know you could sing like that.”

he laughs when she gives him a whiny shut up and fuck me please. he watches the way her scowl disappears when he pulls out, then bullies his cock back into her drooling pussy.

“fuck, pussy’s so tight and wet around my dick, just gushing,” kyle hisses out with a roll of his hips, eyes almost crossing when she tightens around his cock. “you’re gonna strangle me to death. christ.”

“i’m sorry,” she manages to choke out through the overwhelming sensation of his cock hitting her sweet spot repeatedly. she was in fucking heaven.

“don’t be. you’re doin’ so good for me, sweetheart,” kyle croons in her ear. “you’re takin’ me so well. gonna have you fallin’ apart on this dick every night.”

“please.” his words are entirely too much for her handle.

“please what?” kyle coos, as his cock drags against her spongy walls. “gonna see how good you’ll be when i stretch that ass out with my fingers first, and then on my cock.”

the cry she emits when her senses white out completely and all she can feel is the sheer pleasure of her orgasm, is loud enough to be heard out in the hallway.

kyle doesn’t slow down when he tells her to give him one more. she wants to call him greedy, but she’s too busy moaning and writhing underneath him while he rubs her clit in sync with his thrusts. when she cums again, kyle is filling her pussy up to the brim with his seed and moaning her name.

kyle has to force her out of bed after he suggests they shower and change the sheets. she whines about being tired, but lets him guide her to the bathroom anyway.

she spirals a little when she’s sure she kyle is sleeping. she doesn’t want him to hear her weeping. and the second a pitiful whimper escapes her mouth, she’s out of the bed and locking herself in the bathroom, where she can cry freely.

she tries to avoids kyle after that, but he’s not having it.

he won’t let her run from this. when she tries to deny it, he calls her out on it and lets her know that they’ll be having a lengthy discussion when he gets back. “my teammates and i are leaving base. gotta put an end to some shit none of us want to deal with, and i’m not sure when i’ll be back, sweetheart.”

during the three months that kyle is gone, she’s missing him more than she thought she would. phone calls and video calls aren’t enough anymore. he tries to soothe her by telling her he’ll be seeing her soon, but she cries anyway.

it’s only then that she comes to a startling realization.

she finally tells her therapist what she’s been wanting to tell kyle for weeks.

i think i love him. no, i know i love him.

when she sees kyle again, she launches herself at him immediately, much to everyone’s surprise, because since when was kyle dating anyone.

soap, price, and ghost can’t help but to stare at her and kyle in wonder. she’s clutching at kyle, while crying her eyes out and telling him how much she loves him and how much she misses him. eyebrows raise when she drags him into a kiss that’s damn near pornographic.

kyle beams at her when he pulls away from the kiss, before he pulls her in for a soft peck and a hug that leaves her a little breathless.

and leave it up to him to ruin the moment when he says, “so, about that talk.”

she just groans and let him drag her across the tarmac.

-

a/n: thank you for sending this message and i hope you enjoy.

[coffeegnomee]

Ok just caught up and like. What the fuck man. 

I literally all can do is just sit here and hope and pray that the old members stick it out and help the new members understand what lifesteal is actually about.

Because lifesteal has the reputation of being the lying and betraying and killing people server. 

But it is just Not That. Like obviously those things have happened on the server, fine. 

But lifesteal is far far far more about teammates. Believing that they will have your back. Working together to do cool shit. Trusting each other. 

It’s about commitment and honor and respect and working together on an interesting goal. 

It’s about not screwing over your teammates for a cheap moment that ruins the rest of your relationship on the server. (Mapicc showed this perfectly this week too! He ended the experiments because he’d rather have a teammate than execute a crazy emotional manipulation arc on Zam and really push him over the edge.) 

They sacrifice for each other. They protect each other. They pick each other up when they get killed by their enemies. They encourage them when they’re down. Help them be strong against their fears. Get each other gear and hearts and make sure they’re safe. Spend hours on each other’s arc together in vc all night. 

They lie to OTHERS for their team. They protect the wormhole for months even when they don’t want to or believe in it at all.

They do tiny little things that they know the other person will like just so they know they love them and appreciate them being on the team. They say it too, to each other’s faces. 

It’s about loving each other bro. There’s a massive fucking reason why there’s so much shipping fanart man. They fucking love each other platonically so damn much and so damn perfectly that you can make it romantic and it’s like not even like all that weird.

It makes me so fucking mad that you could boil down this beautiful server into lying and killing and go on it and be like, I heard princezam betrays every team he’s on obviously we should betray everyone and be on the lookout for every single person being a betrayer. 

Zam fucking lost his mind over betraying team awesome and eclipse. He AGONIZED for MONTHS before pulling the trigger for eclipse and he didn’t betray team awesome until after their massive arc together that he was completely loyal to, finished it out as a team, and only when they looked like they weren’t going to give up their unfair advantage did he seek to leave them. And he fought them and left.

The fucking respect he has for a team is insane.

And same goes for Bacon and Mapicc. 

as for others:

Ro only betrays if he gets a better offer (from mapicc) 

Leo betrays when it’s interesting for the story to have a juggernaut.

Spoke betrays only when he has his own bigger plan to execute that will create something interesting for the whole server to encounter. 

Clown only betrays when you go against his morals of creating content by chaos. 

I can’t even think of any notable betrayals from before s5. Most of the server does not betray ever. Most of the server never lies. 

They only lie and betray when it’s for the benefit of the content. 

And that’s what fucking makes me so upset about this. Bacon is doing this arc for the BETTERMENT of the server. He literally says he’s doing it to make other people’s lives on the sever more interesting. It ain’t even about him. He’s not even making a video about this. He just likes to do cool shit on the server because it’s fun to craft an overarching story for everyone to play into.

It’s never been about hearts man. 

The most valuable resource on the server is content. 

And Bacon understands this. In a way that quite possibly could make him a worldender like spoke and clown. He’s really getting into the role of strategizing fun things for the server to do for no other reason than someone has to do it and that it’s good for the server. 

But the new members just do not understand what “for content” means. They just kill randomly. They don’t defend each other. They don’t tell the other teammate to give the heart back bc it’s been proven enough that they’re innocent. They’re constantly suspicious and will only meet if there are no enemies online. 

It’s not about the hearts man. 

It’s about the team.

[writersmess]

DEATH WISH LOVE | EVAN BUCKLEY

gif credit

Pairing: Evan Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: Buck never thought he could love someone like that. Especially not someone with the same death wish love as him.

Warning: Anxiety crisis, near-death experience, hospital, crying, ansgt.

Word count: 2.5K

a/n: My God, I can't believe it's taken me over a year to get back. I missed this place so much. It's been an intense, crazy year. I finally got my dream job at the best hospital in Latin America. I'm so happy, but at the same time it's demanded everything of me, working long shifts almost every day, but its the price I have to pay. I hope you like this one, it was based on the song Death Wish Love by Benson Boone, which as soon as I heard it I immediately imagined something with our dear Buck. I confess I thought I'd do something angsty, but I don't think I have that capacity, he already suffers so much that I just wanted him to have a happy ending this time.

Masterlist

................................

You were the new firefighter in 118, and also new to the city. In order to follow your dreams, you left your hometown with everyone and everything you knew. You craved for bigger things, you wanted the big city, you wanted Los Angeles.

The team welcomed you with open arms, which was unusual to you. You weren’t used to this or neither known by your affectionate gestures, but apparently everything was an excuse for a hug at the station. It was a bit hard to get used to all this affection, especially when you came from a place where you were always by yourself.

That was one of the main reasons you became a firefighter, you have walked through fire every single day of your life, why not make it your profession?

You were a source of curiosity between the team, always so quiet and so resistant to everyone's affection. It was hard to win you over. Especially because you had a rather difficult personality, you were fearless at work, you weren't afraid to go into the fire to save lives, you did it without thinking twice.

To Bobby you were a cause for concern, and sometimes the reason why he was having trouble sleeping. He knew this personality very well. It was the same one he had struggled for years to learn to deal with, the one he had to fight with so many times, he was very familiar with this death wish love, it was the same as Buck’s.

The blue-eyed man on the other side, couldn't understand why he couldn't take his eyes off you. Ever since you arrived a few months ago, your image has been running through Buck’s mind. You've become a challenge for him. But not in a bad way, he wanted to get to know you, he wanted to understand you. But you didn't make things any easier for him, especially when today was the first time he'd seen you laugh.

"You're drooling" he snapped back to reality when he heard Eddie mocking next to him.

"Shut up" Buck said, turning his gaze back to you playing with his niece.

You had a beauty he couldn't explain, an angelic one. You had this steely gaze and looking at you felt like suicide. He would fall to his knees if you asked him to. How could someone so delicate also be so dangerous?

The way you were reluctant to follow Bobby's orders, you'd walk into the fire without a second thought. You would take risks without thinking about your own safety, just thinking about everyone else. He saw how hard you worked, he saw how mad Bobby got when he ordered the building to be evacuated and you were always the last one to leave. You were intriguing and he was fascinated.

It was so strange for you. Being in Maddie's living room, with everyone gathered together like a big family, laughing and telling funny stories. The team met once a week, with all the families together, the children running around the living room, the smell of food in the air, the voices, the laughter.

You accepted the invitation after a few months of refusing, and now you spent the week looking forward to the moment when you would be together again.

Sometimes when you got home from a meeting, you cried. You cried because you never had that, you never had anyone who cared about you. You were an unexpected pregnancy, your parents didn't planned you, they didn't want you and that was never a secret to anyone.

And that's why you were surprised when one day you arrived early at the station and Hen had a cake for you that you had once said reminded of what your grandmother used to bake.

Or when another one Eddie handed you a drawing that Chris made specifically for you. Of the two of you playing together.

Or when Maddie sent you, through Chim, the cookies you said you loved one day while you were having coffee together.

Or when Bobby invited you to have lunch with him and Athena on a Sunday ‘cause he knew you were going to do it alone.

Or when Buck gave you a book he'd heard you say was your favorite during a conversation.

*

It was mid-afternoon on a Sunday. Your hands were shaking, your heart pounding. The words your father had once spoken echoed in your mind. "You will never be loved". But you were at a table with 118's entire family, and you felt loved. Maddie told you about the gossip from her work. Karen hugged you from the side every time you passed by her. Hen included you in every conversation. Athena calmly answered all the questions you were curious about her work. So why did you feel like an imposter? Why was your father's voice echoing inside your head? Why were you on the verge of an anxiety attack?

"I'll be right back" you muttered to the girls, but you realized how shaky your voice sounded. You were pathetic.

You barely made it to the bathroom, your legs buckled and you sat down in the corner of the room. You could hardly breathe, it was hard to pull in the air. Tears streamed down your face. Your heart was racing. Your hands were shaking.

You heard your voice being called from outside. Damn. You couldn't calm down, your hand was on your chest as if it could make the pain go away.

"Hey, hey. I'm here. Calm down, I’ve got you" it was Buck.

His voice was just a whisper in your ear. You let a sob escape your lips. Pathetic. You felt his arms around you, until you were all wrapped up in his arms. Why was he doing that? Why did he care?

He stayed there until you stopped crying. You were still in his arms, and it was so warm, so safe. Sighs came from your lips, and you couldn't imagine what a mess Buck's head and heart were in. He wanted you in his arms, not just now.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you, so you stayed.

"You don't have to talk about what's going on in there, but the day you feel like you need a hug to cry into, you've got mine" your eyes filled with tears again. "And don't ever apologize for it"

*

The smiles on your lips were becoming constant. And it was Buck's favorite image. You were letting people through your armor, you were letting your guard down, and it felt good. You now baked pies and cakes for the station on your days off, recipes learned from the girls after a few long afternoons of chatting and coffee.

Your laughter was contagious, and the boys would always crack little jokes to get them out of you.

Your eyes were now looking out for a pair of blue ones, all the time, everywhere. Eyes that were always looking back at you. Your hands were always looking for an excuse to bump into Buck's, just to feel that shiver run down your spine every time. And he would find any reason to text you, until the excuses became routine. You woke up every day with a good morning message and went to bed with a good night one. The little touches now became big gestures, Buck loved to brush your hair out of your face and tuck them behind your ear. And you loved to run your hand over the birthmark above his eye. You loved when his warm lips traveled up your neck to your lips. You loved when his hands ran over your body always so slowly and so gently, bringing goosebumps wherever they went. You loved making love with him. How he worshiped your body, how much he worshiped you. The way he made you feel loved.

You had a hold on Buck, and you didn't even know it. He had become attached to you, attached to the idea of having you by his side. The nights with you were the ones he could truly rest in, the mornings where he woke up to your soft kisses on his face, were the ones he would keep forever in his mind.

But he could feel that you were still resisting his feelings, and he was terrified of losing you. Buck was in love with you. It took months for him to realize that, but he did it. He loved you.

But one thing has never changed. And as Buck followed the loud murmurs coming from Bobby’s office, where he knew you were at, he kept in mind the danger you were in at every call. He couldn't lose you.

"Hey, what happe-" he couldn't finish the sentence when he saw you walking out the door, since you brushed past him, bumping into his shoulder, without even looking him in the face.

Buck made his way to the room, where he saw his captain wiping his hands across his face, letting out an exhausted sigh.

"She'll end up dead if she keep acting like this, Buck"

"I know"

"After the last call, if she doesn't change her behavior, I'll be forced to suspend her."

"I know."

Buck couldn't lose you.

You couldn't talk to Buck yet, you were so nervous after your conversation with Bobby. You were trying your best, how could he tell you that you had a death wish love? You were saving lives, and it didn't matter if it cost you your own. You didn't care.

A new call ecoed through the station. It was something big. A fire in a shed. People were working at the time, so there were many likely victims. You were anxious, just as you were before any call, but you were ready for it. You were born ready.

"Be careful," Buck told you before you got off the truck and you nodded. You were always careful "I love you"

You turned surprised to Buck, you'd never said that to each other before. It disconcerted you.

"Buck, I-"

Before you could say anything, you heard Bobby calling you to give instructions and you had to run.

I love you.

The words echoed in your head as you entered the burning building. No one had ever said that to you. You didn't even know the weight those words carried.

"Sir, follow this path and the fireman will take you to the exit."

It was so hot. You'd already lost count of how many people you'd pulled out of the line of fire. Your head was heavy. It was getting hard to breathe.

"Evacuate the building now," you could hear Cap saying over the radio. Everyone agreed and gave their location. You were about to respond when you heard something.

It was a call for help.

You could have sworn it was a call for help.

"Captain, I'm in the east side, I hear someone screaming for help. I'm close, I can get them out"

"Negative, the building will collapse at any moment. Get out immediately"

Your vision was blurred.

I love you.

You couldn't go out and leave those people to die, so you went ahead. The way to the door was difficult, there was a lot of rubble, and when you opened it, you froze in place.

It was empty. The fire danced in front of you, mocking you. But the cries for help... you've never been so wrong before.

I love you.

“It’s empty” you murmured at the radio.

Bobby was shouting your name from the other end of the radio. You turned around, but it was so hard to breathe. You tried to find your way back, but everything was spinning. Buck was now calling your name.

I love you.

His words were running through your head. Your steps were now slow. The way out, you couldn't find the way out. You could hear the fire laughing at you. Stupid. Pathetic. You heard an explosion behind you, and it threw you off balance, bringing you to the ground. You'd been walking through fire all your life, and now it would finally take its place back. Your siren buzzed in your ears. That would be the end of you.

I love you too, Buck.

The moment Buck came out of the building and didn't see you outside, he tried to go back. But hands held him in place.

This couldn't be happening. No, no.

Bobby called your name on the radio and you didn't answer. It's empty. That was the last answer they got. You weren't answering. An explosion. On the east side, where you were.

Buck's knees gave way, and he went down. All eyes were on the exit of the building waiting for you, waiting for a miracle. But it never came.

Buck screamed, and he would scream until his lungs gave up.

Time seemed to stop. Buck's screams were the only noise to be heard. And another explosion. Tears rolled down trough some faces. No one could believe it. This couldn't be happening.

Buck couldn't lose you like this.

"We found her" some voice echoed over the radio.

Buck's heart could stop any second now.

But the building was collapsing.

He broke free from his friends and ran into the building, dodging all the fallen and burnt obstacles, and he saw you. You were in the arms of a fireman. He ran up to you and carried you out of the building. As soon as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the building collapsed. Buck held you in his arms with all his strength and ran, feeling the debris fly past you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" was the first thing that came out of your lips when he put you on the stretcher and he shut you up, pressing his lips to yours.

Buck analyzed each of your wounds alongside Hen and Chim and you could see the tears streaming down Buck's face, the ones that were also streaming down your own.

You were still struggling to breathe, every inch of your body ached, and you felt on the verge of losing consciousness. Until you succumbed to the darkness that was calling your name.

*

You woke up a few hours later in hospital. Your hands were being squeezed and you could feel something wet running down over them. Tears.

Buck had his face in your hands, he had never felt so afraid before. And when he heard your voice calling him, it was as if he could finally breathe.

"I'm sorry, Buck, I-I don't know what happened-"

"I almost lost you today"

Your heart broke into a million pieces. You did this to him, your recklessness, your impulsive behavior. It was your fault.

"I'm sorry"

Tears were now streaming down your face and he moved closer, running his hands gently down your cheeks.

"I was terrified of losing you. I'd die if I do."

"I would never leave you"

"Promise?"

"I love you, Buck. And I'll love you to death"

"Please don't let it be soon"

You smiled. No one had ever loved you like that.

"It won't."

[hotgirlssupportlando]

one day x lando norris pt 4

this is a part of my series following one day of every summer from 2016 onwards in y/n’s and lando's lives, exploring their friendship and love for one another. ofc not a smooth ride with some angst and fights along the way. a friends to lovers, growing up together kind of thing. read first part here pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary of this part: y/n attending lando's first home race in f1, but her expectations weren't really met warnings: kinda sad :( wc: 1,4k a/n: probably a couple of sad parts now in this series but bear with me!! a one day -series can't only be rainbows and butterflies hehe

summer of 2019

Silverstone Circuit, England

y/n was beyond excited getting her invite from lando to attend his first ever home race in f1. she couldn’t believ that the random boy she had met a few years ago now was one of the top twenty drivers in the world. seeing her best friend advancing in the sport truly made her proud, who would’ve thought he’d be going this far? since day one she had always supported her friend both on track and at distance, nowadays most through late night facetime calls as she was still in Edinburgh studying and Lando traveling all around the world. 

however, now after being months apart the pair would finally meet again and oh my, was she excited!! she couldn’t help but smile sitting in the taxi on her way to silverstone, headphones in listening to her and landos shared playlist. she fiddled with her mclaren paddock pass that already, proudly, was hanging around her neck, closely reading (for maybe the hundredth time) that all the personal information was correct, it would be just typical lan to spell something wrong and causing her trouble. as soon as the paddock pass had arrived in the mail at her uni dorm she had started planning her outfit, carefully picking out clothes and accessories that would perfectly match the colours on the pass. as the self-conscious being she was, she wanted to be prepared, not wanting to make a fool of herself or lando by turning up as a girl who didn’t look like she belonged there.  

now she was sat stroking her new white dress, contemplating whether it was too boring or too much, and what would lando think, would he like it? and why didn’t she take the other dress instead, it would have looked much better! her mind was racing, overthinking every little thing that came to mind and her worries quickly aggravated looking outside the cab window at all the beautifully looking fans that stood waiting outside the paddock hoping to see their favourite drive appear from one of the taxis. oh well, she thought, there’s nothing i can do about it now. she took a deep breath before exiting the car, shyly walking toward the entrance where she blipped her paddock pass and quickly rushed away headed towards the big mclaren sign in the distance. overwhelmed by the situation she just wanted to see lando, knowing that his presence would calm her nerves.

after some walking she finally arrived at the mclaren hospitality, almost immediately spotting jon, lando’s trainer. ”hi we’ve only seen each other through facetime but i’m y/n l/n, landos friend”, she said approaching jon. ”oh hello, i thought i recognized you from somewhere!” he smiled, ”you’re probably looking for lando?”. y/n nodded smilingly. jon looked around a bit worried, telling her that he should be here somewhere but that his schedule had been a bit hectic this race day morning. she was offered to wait in the hospitality while jon was gonna go tell lando that she had arrived. with a good mood she went and grabbed a tea, sitting at a table that overlooked mclaren’s part of the pit lane. 

after scrolling a bit on her phone and texting her friend, she saw in her periphery, more specifically in the garage, a familiar looking boy. he was giving some fangirls a tour around the garage, letting one and one test sit in his car. he looked so happy, being in his element. after a short while jon approached lando, and by his lips y/n could read something about her arrival. landos reaction was cute, he seemed excited that she was there but didn’t seem ready to come meet her just yet. y/n was just glad she had seen him at a distance and didn’t mind waiting for some time longer, she had already waited several months so what harm could another hour do?

if it only had been an hour or two or even three.. patiently she sat waiting, looking at the clock seeing it was nearly time for race preparations. nope, she thought, if she wanted to see him she would need to take it into her own hands, and that’s what she did. confidently she walked the same route she had seen jon take to the garage and after getting lost a couple times she found a visitor friendly spot. at the same place other high paying fans were stood looking at the team doing their pre race preparations. lando, as the kind boy he was, of course greeted the fans and let them take pictures with him. shortly after he spotted y/n who stood with a huge smile and open arms to greet him in an usual hug, but she wasn’t met by the same excitement. a rather cold and quick hug was what she got, from a boy that felt unexpectedly unfamiliar. a bit caught of guard by the reception and embarrassed by the amount of people that had seen this awkward encounter she felt like running far away. somehow she managed to still ask lando if their agreed meetup after the race was still on, to which she received a short ”yeah, sure”. 

stunned from the whole situation she went back up to the hospitality and watched the race in some kind of haze. wtf was that? she didn’t have to be here, lando was the one that invited her there, didn’t some good old kindness include in that package? presumably not then. her thoughts wandered, shocked that the boy she had known for years abruptly was someone totally else, just because they weren’t alone, the two of them, as they usually was. or was she overreacting? maybe it wasn’t that bad. or maybe this was her fault? she could’ve put a bit more makeup on and change the dress so that she would’ve been prettier, maybe that was the problem, that she wasn’t as pretty as the other girls in the paddock. 

in the middle of her overthinking someone patted her on the shoulder making her jump of fear out of her seat. ”sorry sorry sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you” a familiar voice half laughed, half tried to sound serious. she turned around meeting a pair of kind brown eyes, it was carlos sainz she remembered, lando’s teammate. ”are you waiting for someone?” he asked. y/n looked at the clock, it was late, somehow she had been thinking about her own problems so long that she hadn’t noticed that the race was done ages ago and that the other hospitality guests had gone home. ”oh yeah, i was waiting for lando, he’s my friend, but i guess he has forgotten about me.. again” y/n said not covering her disappointment very well. carlos smiled compassionately, like he understood, ”i’m sorry.. i remember when i was new to f1, everything’s so new and exciting that sometimes the one’s that has been with you from the start gets left behind..”. ”well, thats assuring” y/n laughed quietly as she felt her eyes tearing up. ”noo sorry, y/n was it? i didn’t mean to upset you, what i meant to say was that in the beginning you get kind of caught up in the fame and girls running after you, but when you settle in to the sport you sooner or later understand who the real one’s are” he said and gently hugged you afterwards. y/n sniffled after the hug ”well i hope so.. this wasn’t at all what i expected from this day” she sighed walking towards the door out of the hospitality. ”i’m certain he will come around, some new drivers take more time than others to realize that all the new attention is just empty and fake, nothing that can compare to a girl that waited the clock around to hopefully see her friend” he smiled trying to cheer y/n up. a small smile cracked on her face as she thanked him whilst they walked out of hospitality together. 

they didn’t have to walk very far before she heard lando’s familiar laugh, y/n turning around to spot lando in the distance, flirting with some very beautiful girls, noticing how he didn’t have a thought in the world about his old friend. she felt her heart sink and eyes tearing up again, was she really that forgettable? if anything, it only confirmed all her self-conscious thoughts. carlos that was walking beside her noticed the same as her and immediately connected his eyes with y/n’s, giving her a compassionate look while hugging her from the side. ”don’t you worry darling, remember my words”

_____

taglist

@amberpanda99 @phantomxoxo @landossainz @chezmardybum @lan4cha16 @tvdtw4ever @starlit-skiessss @dorothea47

[qqueenofhades]

I love your essays; they are fascinating. Thank you for sharing your perspective! I have a follow up question, if you have the time or energy: in your last, you said, “It's a blueprint for a tiny group of extreme right-wing theocrats and fascists to get their way regardless of what the broader public says about it…”. Who ARE the tiny group of extreme right wing theocrats and fascists? Is it the politicians whom we see all over the news, like Vance and Boebert ands Haley and DeSantis? Or are they puppets whose strings are being pulled by donors behind the scenes, like…I don’t know, the Koch brothers and the Uleins (sp?)? I feel like whoever it is must have mind boggling amounts of money, to overcome the sheer number of people who don’t think like that, even people nominally republican who believe in traditional low taxes and small government, but are not completely bananapants. Or maybe that’s why they tagged trump, bc no one before him was willing to act like enough of an outright gangster to seriously move the needle…? How much more rich than disgustingly rich do they need to be?

Perhaps surprisingly, it's fairly easy to identify the Hall of Shame who are busily trying to end American democracy, not least because they have become increasingly open about it. Their motives are diverse but all terrible. The quick rundown is as follows:

First, the alt-right billionaires club such as Peter Thiel, Elon Musk, Harlan Crow, and Leonard Leo (the last two are some of the chief funnelers of dark money to SCOTUS; Crow is Clarence Thomas's sugar daddy). They have reasons ranging from grandiose delusions about "remaking" the world in their preferred image (not at all terrifying) to attaching themselves to fascist politics in order to defeat workers' rights and labor unions, who they view as a threat to their mega-wealth. Thiel is the primary sponsor of JD Vance and the alt-right cryptobros clubs that draw the young right-wing white men who also primarily form the membership of neo-Nazi and white nationalist groups. They want to end democracy in order to punish women, minorities, LGBTQ+ people, and anyone else who Nazis always hate. Crow and Leo have lavishly funded the corrupt SCOTUS in order to influence their preferred right-wing rulings, and there are undoubtedly more who we don't even know about. This is just the tip of the iceberg and I have no doubt that it's far, far worse than anything that has been publicly reported.

Next are the extremist right-wing interest groups that have cohered around and advocated for Project 2025, which is basically just the conservative-extremist wet dream put in one place and written down. They include the Heritage Foundation (the primary Project 2025 author) the Federalist Society and the John Birch Society of right-wing judges and policymakers, and Opus Dei, the secretive Catholic right-wing influence group who are straight out of a Dan Brown novel but are in fact some of the most consequential and powerful players in MAGA World. Their name means "work of God" in Latin, which is very much what they see themselves as doing, and their reach in DC is vast, particularly in the far-right evangelical and fundamentalist Christian groups that have attached themselves to Trump as a vehicle to push through their regressive-reactionary social and cultural politics, especially on abortion, women's rights, LGBTQ+ rights, and other things that they view as "unholy." These are the diehard true believers who really, truly think that it's better for the US to be a fascist theocracy espousing "Right and Moral" religious views than a flawed, pluralist, and secular democracy. Hard Yikes.

Thirdly we have the useful idiots, such as Vance, Ron DeSantis, Boebert, Greene, basically pick-a-Republican-politician-here, who are pursuing fascist politics out of careerism, opportunism, some amount of genuine belief, and exploiting the age-old fissures of American racism, nativism, xenophobia, and other original sins that have dogged the country since its founding. Of course, Trump himself is chief among these useful idiots, because he's completely willing to end American democracy and install himself as Dictator-for-Life if it exempts him from having to face the consequences for all the crimes he did last time (and frankly, his entire life, which is now catching up with him). I don't think Trump has an actual consistent or coherent policy bone in his body; witness how quickly he was willing to flip-flop on the Florida abortion issue depending on what he thought was useful (and then after the backlash he received from his base). He's a malignant narcissistic sociopath who is incapable of complex reasoning and long-term planning. His only and overriding interest is himself, he will do absolutely whatever he has to in order to save himself, and as long as he has his death grip on the GOP, everyone who wants to succeed in the party or even have a future in it has to slavishly kiss Don Corleone Trump's ring. That is why many lifelong Republicans have been breaking ranks to say they will vote for Harris, because "being a Republican's" one and only qualification is now "being utterly loyal to Trump." That's it.

These are all actors based more or less in the US, but we also can't forget the fact that basically the entire Republican Party is in deep, deep hock to Vladimir Putin and other foreign autocrats (but most especially and dangerously Putin). We just had the DOJ indictment of MAGA influencers who were taking Russian black cash by the bucketload in order to spread damaging lies about Biden/Harris and pump for Trump, and this is consistent with Russia's pattern of extensive interference in American elections going back to at least 2016. It is hard to overstate how much Putin hankers to end American democracy for many reasons. He is a former KGB agent trained in the black-and-white us-and-them logic of the Cold War where the US was the USSR's archenemy, his constant mourning for the USSR's collapse has been well documented, and it would be the absolute defining and singular achievement of all of post-imperial Russian history for Putin to effectively end American democracy with a second Trump term.

This is for the simple reason that Trump is utterly in thrall to Putin and will do whatever he asks, whether it's cutting off aid to Ukraine and forcing them to accept annexation by Russia, pulling America out of NATO and letting Putin set his invasion sights on Poland and the Baltic states, and anything else. That is genuinely terrifying but very likely if Trump was re-elected, aside from the end of American democracy and the worldwide ramifications it would have to empower fascist authoritarians everywhere. Putin is trying to achieve this through a combination of good old-fashioned Soviet-style dezinformatsiya, paying off MAGA influencers, putting the entire resources of the Russian state into defaming Harris-Walz, and recruiting useful idiots like his asset Jill Stein, who has extensive Russian ties and only pops up every four years for idiot leftists to spoil their vote and ruin Democratic electoral prospects. So. Again. Hard yikes.

So that's the quick rundown of the people who are vested in Trump and Project 2025's success and why, and as you can see, while they're all different, they're all terrible. But yes: that really is a very, very small group of people, relatively speaking. And a vote for anyone except Kamala Harris and Tim Walz is a vote to empower them and also to ensure that you will never have the chance to vote again, due to living in an authoritarian fascist regime. Choose wisely.

[thestrangesthell]

he doesn't love Lydia he flirts with the secretary he went to that place created by Juno

Ok, let's talk about it.

"Secretary" - You mean Janet? He just looks at her, never flirts. A key component of BJ's character in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is that he hasn't been sprayed down with overly sanitised 'political correctness' to appeal to wider-audiences. He's just as gross as he always has been.

He states that himself and Lydia "have a definite psychic connection" but they're not actually together. He knows this and probably knows Lydia doesn't feel for him in the same way he does. That's why he pulls out all the stops at the end.

Checking out Janet is harmless and just a reminder to the audience that he's still the same gross guy. Besides, Lydia's had a whole child off-screen with Richard and later wound up in Rory's snare. She's done plenty more than check someone out - and you don't see BJ complaining.

(Well, except for Rory. And it's canon that BJ hates him for how he uses Lydia.)

The Whore House (Dante's Inferno) is used as a distraction. He gets off on scaring people, so Juno uses this to her advantage after the snake incident.

Besides, he'd not properly met Lydia when he went into it; just used her as an empty threat to rile up Barbara (which worked).

"I think she understands me."

He's never spoken to her. By this point, she's only ever seen him in snake form. We have very little evidence as to why he seems so interested in her. That's why we *theorise*.

The second movie is where the presence (and evidence) of love comes into play.

Everything he does for her is pretty much selfless. As I said in my rant, he barely puts up a fight when she tries to send him back. We know from Beetlejuice (1988) that he could stop her if he wanted to. But he lets her send him back. Not even that, he makes a whole joke out of it:

"Shoulda got married in Vegas."

You expect me to believe that this guy, who apparently "doesn't love Lydia" wouldn't be raging about being defeated again? He immediately makes a joke about the whole thing. We know by the end of the movie that he hasn't let her go. It wouldn't be a surprise if this was his plan all along.

He knew, no matter how grandiose the ceremony was, that she wasn't ever going to follow through. It's all fine for Lydia to ask him, "But how do I know that you're gonna keep your word?" when she doesn't even keep hers.

But he gave her that beautiful ceremony regardless.

By the end of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, he has saved Lydia's daughter, helped Lydia see Rory for who he really is, given her the most beautiful farewell ceremony he could, Lip-synched the entirety of MacArthur's Park to her, physically given her his heart and topped it off by reuniting her deceased family, Charles and Delia.

If that isn't love, I don't know what is.

And if all of that didn't do it for ya, just look at how he looks at her.

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

Jason with his time in the league of assassins

Talia walks into the small modest room where Jason is livening in while he gets back on his feet, having a bunch of brain functions recovered takes a while to get used to. he's been doing physical therapy and occupational therapy for the last couple months, his dexterity isn't exactly back yet.

Talia: Jason? what are you doing?

Jason: well there's this thing I always wanted to try called stop motion animation, and well you got some lego's for Dami but he's a bit too small for them so.. I took them and have been animating. I was bored in-between everything, you don't have any good books I haven't already read.

Talia: well that is an acceptable pass time, what are you making?

Jason: oh it's a weird comedy spoof for kids about batman and the joker being nemesis's, I wanted to make it for Dami since well he doesn't know much about him or the other ones and he's only 3 and well it doesn't seem like much but the time I'm done he'll be 5 and be able to enjoy it. i don't know talia I'm bored and want to make something for him.

Talia: very well, if you so wish. I can get some people in to help you make it if you wish.

Jason: really?

Talia: yes, I can. it does sound like a nice gift.

Jason: oh thank you!

Many months of therapy complete, he starts to retrain and regain all the fighting skills he lost and learn some new ones. in the meanwhile, Jason and 3 other people have been making a complete feature film for Damian who's just turned 4, they were about halfway done and it was looking good.

Talia: so how's it coming along?

Jason: it's been hard and hurts like a bitch, but I'm getting better at flips!

Talia: no. not that, I mean the movie?

Jason: oh it's halfway done! me and the one man and 2 women are doing great we reshot the opening, and we are more than 68% done! so it will be ready by Dami's birthday.

Talia: he will enjoy it I believe.

Jason: of course he would, it's his first ever kids movie!

Talia: why yes it is!

many many many more months pass and it becomes Dami's 5th birthday and Jason and his crew had wrapped up, the voice acting was done mostly by himself, and the crew but he asked some of the league for other voices. eventually after scoring and mixing they met the deadline. they set up the league theatre and put the movie on.

lego batman: [voice over] Black. All important movies start with a black screen... And music... Edgy, scary music that would make a parent or studio executive nervous... And logos... Really long and dramatic logos... Warner Bros. Why not "Warner Brothers"? I don't know... Hmm... Not sure what LOA does, but that logo is macho. I dig it... Okay. Get yourself ready for some... reading. "If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make a change. Hooo." No. I said that. Batman is very wise. I also have huge pecs and a nine-pack. Yeah, I've got an extra ab. Now, let's start the movie.

Dami: momma? what's the movie about?

talia: your father

lego Alfred Pennyworth: Were you looking at the old family pictures again?

lego Batman: At the what? The old family... Oh, yes! I see what you mean. Look at that! The old gang. Yeah. No, I wasn't.

lego Alfred Pennyworth: I see. Sir, if you don't mind my saying, I'm a little concerned. I've seen you go through similar phases in 2001 and 2006 and 2008 and 2005 and 1997 and 1995 and 1992 and 1989 and that weird one in 1999. Do you want to talk about how you're feeling right now?

lego Batman: I don't talks about feelings, Alfred. I don't have any, I've never seen one. I'm a night-stalking, crime-fighting vigilante, and a heavy metal rapping machine. I don't feel anything emotionally, except for rage. 24/7, 365, at a million percent. And if you think that there's something behind that, then you're crazy. Good night, Alfred.

lego Alfred Pennyworth: Sir, it's morning..

Talia: *laughs*

Dami: *chuckles*

Jason: *smiles with accomplishment*

lego Batman: [Batman's song] Who never skips leg day?

Chorus: Batman!

lego Batman: Who always pays their taxes?

lego Batman, Chorus: Not Batman!

Talia: *wails with laughter*

Dami: what are taxes?

Jason: you'll know when you get older don't worry about it

The lego Joker: Are you seriously saying there is nothing, nothing special about our relationship?

lego Batman: Whoa. Let me tell you something, J-bird. Batman doesn't do 'ships.

The lego Joker: [Confused] What?

lego Batman: As in "relationships." There is no "us." Batman and Joker are not a thing. I don't need you. I don't need anyone. You mean nothing to me. No one does.

Talia: that is your father's arch-nemesis the joker

Dami: oh okay

Jason: please kill him for me

dami: okay Jason, i will avagange, e-venge, avenge your honour!

Jason: you have no idea what that means to me buddy *wipes away a tear*

Lego Robin: My name's Richard Grayson, but all the kids at the orphanage call me Dick.

Lego Batman: Well, children can be cruel.

Jason: when I first heard dick's name I unironically thought everyone was just calling him a dickhead so much that the name dick stuck, but nope turns out it's short for Richard. he even changed his name to dick, I personally would never. but he pulls it off flawlessly. *chuckles*

talia: I did not know mr Grayson preferred to be called Dick.

Dami: who's dick then?

Jason: oh he's your older brother.

Lego Robin: What? [Sees Batcave]

Lego Robin: It's the Batcave! Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygooo-! [Bumps into Batman]

Lego Robin: Batman, woah!

Lego Batman: You're darn right, woah!

Lego Robin: Wait, does Batman live in Bruce Wayne's basement?

Lego Batman: No, Bruce Wayne lives in Batman's attic.

Talia: *DIES OF LAUGHTER* oh Jason this is amazing.

Jason: I wish to impress!

Lego Robin: Hey, I was thinking. If I'm gonna be a superhero, and go on awesome superhero missions like this one, can we use code names? Mine can be Robin.

Lego Batman: I'm sorry, say that again?

Lego Robin: Robin.

Lego Batman: As in the small, Midwestern frail bird?

Lego Robin: Yeah, and I already have a catch phrase. Tweet, tweet, on the street.

Lego Batman: Hard pass.

Lego Robin: And a song. [singing]

Lego Robin: Fly, Robin, fly.

Lego Batman: Harder pass.

dami: *laughs so hard he coughs*

talia: habbibi careful, don't laugh so hard you will hurt yourself

Jason: honestly yeah you can hurt yourself badly.

LegoRobin: Wow! Look, it's the Bat-Sub!

Lego Batman: Wait, don't touch that!

Lego Robin: Over there! It's the Bat-Space Shuttle!

Lego Batman: Please keep your hands off that.

Lego Robin: Look, it's the Bat-Zeppelin!

Lego Batman: Don't touch that, either!

Lego Robin: It's the Bat-Train!

Lego Batman: No!

Lego Robin: It's the Bat-Kayak!

Lego Batman: No!

Lego Robin: It's the Bat-Dune Buggy!

Lego Batman: No!

Lego Robin: It's the Bat... Shark Repellent?

Lego Batman: [pause] Uh, actually, you can touch that. It's completely useless.

Talia: shark repelent is actually a quite useful invention why is bruce beloved not recognising it's full potential?

Jason: keep watching

Dami: does father have all those things?

Jason: sure does!

Lego Batman: We are gonna steal the Phantom Zone projector from Superman.

Lego Robin: [frowns] Steal?

Lego Batman: Yeah. We have to right a wrong. And sometimes, in order to right a wrong, you have to do a wrong-right. Gandhi said that.

Lego Robin: Are we sure Gandhi said that?

Lego Batman: I'm paraphrasing.

Talia: *laughs*

Dami: *laughs so hard he starts coughing AGAIN*

Jason: ghandi so said that btw.

lego Jim Gordon: [sees Robin for the first time] Who is that?

lego Robin: Hi, police man!

lego Jim Gordon: Is that your son?

Lego Robin: Yes, I am!

Lego Batman: [laughs nervously] Is that my son? No, that's just weird.

Lego Jim Gordon: It's weirder if it's not your son.

Jason: this interaction is based off an actual interaction between jimmy and Dick.

[batman and robin arrive at the fortress of solitude]

lego Batman: Hey, kid!

lego Robin: Yes, sir?

lego Batman: You're super nimble, right?

lego Robin: I sure am!

lego Batman: And small?

lego Robin: Very.

lego Batman: And quiet?

lego Robin: [whispering] When I desire to be.

lego Batman: And 110% expendable?

lego Robin: I don't know what that means, but okay!

Jason: bruce really did not know how to deal with a 11 year old child hellbent on murdering a mob boss, so he kept bringing him along on incredibly dangerous missions, it was always fine in the end but this sort of situation happened once.

Talia: really?

Jason: the expendable part was from a wayne tech family event, and they crushed it. but dick had to sacrifice himself to help bruce win, it was so funny. I was there.

Lego Batman: White. All important movies end with a white screen.

Talia, jason, the other 70 league of assassin members and Damien break out into applause for the movie.

Jason: THANK YOU ALL, but special thanks to Gerald, and lily and Rin!!!! I WOULD HAVE NEVNER FINISHED IT WITHOUT YOU THANK YOUUUUUUU

the audience bursts into a large uproar of applause.

Prev | current | Next

[curioscurio]

Why we have to start being nicer to eachother:

I know it sucks and is hard, but I think we really do need to start treating techbros and incels and our fellow humans with a bit more compassion, empathy, and understanding before we jump to bad faith interpretation. Especially when seeing a bad take online used as bait for arguments. We have to give other people the opportunity and knowledge to think for themselves, and make the choice to become a better person on their own.

"Hold on! Why should I be nice to people like that? THEY'RE the ones who are being bigoted to US!"

Well, I'll try and answer that question below! I ended up writing a lot, so check out the "read more" if you're curious. At the end of the day, I'm not an expert or a professional on human behavior, so keep that in mind. This is just something I've been thinking about based on my own past experiences.

Conspiracy theorists, the far right, gun enthusiasts, and even MAGA's all operate on the belief that modern society hates them for who they are. They think the entire world is against them.

And, looking at the kind of hate rhetoric and harmful ideologies they talk about; the cruel acts of casual and extremist violence that stem from that community, it easy to see why the world has turned its back on them. Right?

It makes you wonder: "Why are they like this?"

The easy way out is to simply hold on to the belief that they are behaving this way because they are bad people. Bad people do bad things, after all.

But when the world turns its back on a group of people, those people turn their backs on the world. They will naturally gravitate towards whichever group of accepting humans they come across first. Whoever validates their feelings and makes them feel accepted and safe instead of rejected and fearful.

The far right preys on young men who don't know know any better because they are never treated any better. They have influencers, exactly like Donald Trump, that make you feel safe. They also are lying to these people and using their fear of rejection to control them.

It's very similar to how the Church will help you out and feed you if you're homelss... as long as you join the church and donate 10% of your earnings to "God." (The churchs bank account. )

That is to say, people don't usually pop out of the womb with these prejudices and fears programed into their heads. It's something that has to be taught to them by somebody else. Their parents, the church, their school, their friends, youtubers, etc.

"So, what do we do? How do we save future and current generations from being sucked into this hateful spiral of far right bigotry?"

"How do we help our conservative parents, who we know love us but are absolutely convinced that they need guns to keep their families safe? How do we help our Trump Train family members who used to be loving, compassionate, people?"

Well, you're not gonna like the answer. We have to start being nicer to everyone. We have to be nicer to incels, dude bros, techbros, Karen's, and yes, even your average Republican voters. We have to show them compassion and empathy when they're expressing their fears, without immediately attacking them for it. We have got to prove to them that there's a place for them to come back to.

Their fears are being taken advantage of by a system that benefits from pitting the general population against each other. If we're too busy fighting eachother, we can never join forces and fight the system.

And so it turns into a self-sustaining system of fear and reactive lashing out. They start believing that everybody is against them, except the few people who understand. Until the only safe place left for them is the Q Anon message boards. Quite literally an orobourous of hate.

"But Curio! They literally want us dead! These people are violent and irredeemable!"

Many of them are. So many of these people are groomed into believing that the only way they can keep themselves safe is by killing anything they think has caused them harm. It's an intentional system maintained by those in power to control those who are not.

Some of them, however, are just normal people who got in with the wrong crowd or are too young to know better. Some people were never given the chance to be better.

"So, what SHOULD we do? Be nice to our oppressors? Let them get away with hate crimes and bigotry?"

No. But we DO need to stop thinking of "them" as this massive malevolent demographic who have no souls and are inherently evil. The majority of these people were lied to and manipulated and groomed into these beliefs.

We have to try harder to stop ourselves before we start calling them names and attack them, regardless of if they deserve it or not. We have to engage with them on good faith. Learn about WHY they believe conspiracy theories and why it stems from fear.

"Why? What will this help?"

Because you're quite literally showing them that there's another option available for them to take. You're showing them that, if they do change their minds and want to change their behavior, that you are a safe person to approach with these thoughts. You have the power to create a space for them where they're allowed to think for themselves without punishing them for it.

Once you create that connection, it's like you're showing them another road in life they can explore. They now can see a new future for themselves. A future where their kids start talking to them again. A future where they're not terrified of being humiliated for being soft. A future where they feel listened to.

And that's all. You just have to give them that chance. It's not your job to change their mind, or to tell them that they're wrong for thinking thoughts. In fact, trying to do just that will usually encourage them to double down.

But what you CAN do is build an environment where they have the OPPORTUNITY to change their mind. You can be kind, empathetic, and educational. Be patient and listen and have a respectful conversation with them.

It is especially important for people with privilege to step up and be those kinds of diplomats. People who are able and willing to look past the surface bigotry to address the scared humans underneath. People who can do this without endangering themselves or their community. This may be other cis straight white people who can get away with bringing these topics up gently, without triggering reflexive defensiveness. Who then have the patience to gently educate them and steer them towards a better path.

"But Curio, I can't do this. I've been hurt too many times by these people, and doing this would cause me significant mental distress."

Then don't. You're not obligated to be the better person for every situation and circumstance. Nuance must be taken into account. You don't have to be nice to every troll or ragebait Twitter post. I certainly don't want you to put yourself in a situation that causes you emotional, physical, or mental harm. Hell, you don't even have to give them the time of day. It's your own responsibility to make the judgment call regarding your health.

But people simply won't change if there's no room for them to change. And some people have the power to make that room for them little by little.

"I've tried everything. I've begged, cried, been nice, and shown them that we won't reject them. They won't change their minds no matter what."

And that's also ok! It can happen. When you give people the opportunity to make choices for themselves, there will always be people who still choose to believe the system they were groomed on. They can do that because thats free will, baby. There will still be people who will not change their minds and who will actively choose to become more radicalized.

And it's sad to see. But you also have to respect that sometimes people aren't ready to change at the same time that you're ready to help them change.

But you should try to do it for all the young men and children who are being taught by their parents that White Genocide is real. You should do it for the parents who love their kid so much, but are so terrified when they say they're transgender because they don't know what to do. Because they know the world will not treat them fairly or are afraid of ruining everything.

You should do it for your 10 year old nephew who watches Andrew Tate because their mother doesn't give a damn enough to check what kind of YouTube videos their kid is watching. You should do it for the depressed and hurting teenager who thinks they have no option left but to buy a gun and shoot up their school, because no ones listening to them. You should do it for the tradwife who's alone and hurting after her conservative husband cheated on her and left her with nothing; because she thought she would be the exception.

"...How do you know this will work? What if you're wrong, and nothing changes?"

I don't! I'm just a random person on the internet. I dont know who might read this. It's just my opinion.

But at least, at the end of the day, you tried your best to be a good person to another human being, and I don't think that's such very a bad thing. For me, I'm going to try because I don't want to lose my father to that kind of environment. I want to be able to have a normal conversation with him again.

There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for.

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan trying to comfort Kurt's guilt.

It's a full moon. For the others, it's a pretty normal night. This isn't to say that they don't give it a second thought, or a tenth, but Kurt takes it upon himslef to find out the names of every single person that dosn't make it during their missions.

While most, Like Logan, would rather forget, Kurt had another job to do. It's his duty to make sure these lost and scared souls find heaven.

Walking up to the nearest church, Logan grunts, already halfway through his bottle since they've returned. He hears whispering. Small prayers that he's heard all before whether when muttered on the field or heard through the walls, his rosery intertwined between his 6 fingers, gripping it as if someone would rip it from him.

"I thought you'd be here.." he mutters.

Kurt doesn't answer him. But there he is, on his knees in front of a statue of Mary, tears soaking the fur on his face, hands together. The way the moonlight is coming in, it hits him in a way that makes him look ethereal. Like a blessing from above from the man himself. If only Logan believed in that kind of thing.

It was so ironic that someone so innocent, pure, and beautiful actively visited hell. Perhaps this was why. For he's seen what goes on and has chosen that he's seen enough.

Letting out a big sigh, He comes to crouch next to him, taking a swig of his bottle as he picks up the list. He wants to crumble it up or perhaps shred it, the handwritten swoopy german being nothing but a reminder of how much he failed too. Hero's weren't supposed to let people get hurt. Especially not almost a dozen.. 11 lives ruined. 11 loved ones ripped from their families grasp. And all because they weren't good enough.

Finishing his whispers, he goes to grab the page but Logan had already picked it up. Kurt looks at him with those big black hole eyes of his, almost begging him not to ruin his list, but he dosn't grab for it. He lets his friend look over it only to shove his head back again, drinking for a few seconds think.

"...Emily Stripe..." He read, shifting to actually sit his ass on the concrete step, grunting as he let his arms hang over his knees. "Jessica Stripe...Are they sisters?" He asks the praying man, begging for forgiveness and to help serve these innocent souls towards the stairs and the gates.

More tears fall down his face each couple of words. In the end, he bows his head and doesn't bother looking at him, his eyes glistening in the light. "They were..."

Logan offers him the bottle, and without hesitation, he takes it, starting to chug a quarter of it. "Woah woah! Elfs can't handle that much, ya'know!" He says, and Kurt mumbles something along the lines that he's German, alchool is in his viens from birth.

Taking the bottle back, He shakes it around, Giving a playful glare now it was almost gone. Putting it to the side, he wraps an arm over his shoulder, Kurt's tail wrapping around his waist as well. For a bit, they were just two guys, silently mourning the casualties of what it was like to have constant city villans at hand.

"...It ain't your fault, Fuzzball... or should I say buzzball. You okay there, Mr. Blue?"

"I.....I was so sure I could have saved them.."

"Not your fault, Bub."

"..But what if it is..? If I was just.. a bit better.. I could have saved them."

"Yeah... well, if it's your fault, it's mine too."

Kurt lays his head on his shoulder, wiping his face on his arm. Logan doesn't actually mind, but he knows he wants to play. "Augh! Did you just wipe snot on me!?"

Kurt smiles softly and says something Logan doesn't recognize.

It could be a million things, but deep down, he has a feeling of what it might be.

"Yeah, yeah.. whatever." Pulling him close he headlocks him to his chest and rubs his fist over his head, making Kurt whine and squirm. "Ah! Nein!"

"That's what you get for rubbing snot all over me!"

He scoffs, saying something else, but Logan only catches the end of it.

"Du bist vild, mein freund"

He remembered another scrawny german who said the same. Swallowing, he lets go, letting him lay against him.

"...You really shouldn't be smoking in here." He muttered after some time of them sitting, taking this time to make sure that the people on this list were not fotgotten.

Logan smirks, blowing some smoke into his face as he coughs drimatically and waves his hands infront of his face with a smile.

[talenlee]

Game Pile: Kentucky Route 0, One of Three Games About America

Script and Thumbnail below the fold!

Kentucky Route Zero is a magical realist point and click game of what I’d normally call Narrative Adventure, which came to kickstarter in 2011, then came out in 2013, 2014, 2016, and 2020, because you can’t have nothing for free, even things you pay for. The game is a text-driven game without any of the trappings of your typical point-and-clicker where you jam a ladder in your pants and try to work out why you want to put green dye in the water fountain. Instead it follows the haunted mind of Conway, a trucky driver and his interactions with small handful of people on a part of the Kentucky Interstate, while he to find the place he needs to do his delivery, despite being utterly lost.

I enjoyed what of Kentucky Route Zero I played, but the thing that stands out to me in hindsight is its sound design. It’s a beautifully defined game, audio-wise, with all sorts of thoughtful foley for its environments, and the way that even the pieces of the interface that Conway interacts with have their own sort of specific authentic sounds, chonks and thunks and ch-zzzzses.

It’s also visually splendid, beautiful in what it tries to represent in the heightened reality of its setting but also the format of a videogame. These places look good from the angle that’s chosen, creating lines of artwork and bars of cages, depending on what you’re focusing on, and by being a fixed-camera story of its type, Kentucky Route Zero takes on traits of theatre, with blocking and careful positioning and timing all making up part of how the story unfolds.

A story I haven’t finished.

See, I don’t feel like playing Kentucky Route Zero Act V.

Sit down, traveller. Let me tell you a story.

There’s a chance you’ve heard this story before. I’ve anonymised it here, not because I think you shouldn’t be able to work out who it is, but because the idea of focusing on the who runs the risk of ignoring the what. Plus, I don’t want to direct anyone to a person who said something stupid and encourage fights. That’s not the important issue.

This is the story of when someone perfectly represented something, and probably never realised it.

You will sometimes hear me talk about the take that ‘there are three games about America,’ with a tone of utter revulsion and derision. This is from an incident back in 2020, when a game developer and advocate for inclusive games, had an opinion, on the internet. This advocate is well-established and has a big audience, but also, he’s crucially, not a white guy, not a Christian guy, and not an American guy. These are factors that play into what he said, which was, in summary, that while Kentucky Route 0 was no doubt phenomenal, he wasn’t interested in playing it right now.

To this, an actual adult responded with:

This is legitimately the worst take you’ve ever had. There are only about three games that are actually American, and this is one of them. Everything else is designed for export. Kr0 is a precious and valuable thing. It is of immense and intense personal importance.

Now, resisting the urge to argue with a tweet, which is just generally a bad practice that leads to doing things like wanting to be on twitter, and setting aside this tweet conflating ‘this is of personal importance to me’ and ‘this should be of importance to you,’ this position describes the idea that there are only three games that are ‘actually American.’

What does it mean to be ‘actually American?’

America is a pretty pervasive presence, if you’re not aware of it. Most people in the world have to know about what’s going on in America. We know about your Presidents and your Senators and your Constitution, to the point where people can be more aware of how your country’s laws work than their own country’s laws. I’ve often seen it held up as an example of how poorly educated people in say, Canada and Australia are that we believe we have, say, a ‘first amendment right,’ but the thing is you have to ask why there is that.

We watch so much American TV.

We listen to American music.

We try to make our news broadcasts look like yours, because that’s what real and legitimate news looks like. We try to retell your stories in our local languages because that’s what real media looks like. Our children sing songs in your accents because that’s the culture that a multi-trillion dollar economy has pumped into the whole world.

America demands we attend their wars and surrender our living to become their dead and when we are done America sells the survivors a cheeseburger.

This is not a remarkable or controversial statement. You must know, this is not even vaguely challenging to know about. Everywhere in the world is replicating parts of the American empire, because America exports and enforces the vision of the American empire. McDonalds may sell curry in India, but it’s very important that the curry being sold is McDonalds curry because that is how you know it’s an American style curry.

What this means is when someone tries to assert there are only really three games about America, that’s a kind of specialised brain rot that requires you to consider games that are very much about America as not being really about America. And thus we see the other thing about America, which is it’s not enough for America to be the most important place in the world that everyone else in the world needs to recognise, but also, most of America is inadequately America for this vision of America. You saw this in the wake of 9/11, and the election of Barack Obama: huge amounts of American media resurged in extolling the values of ‘real’ America, as opposed to the parts of America where the vast majority of Americans lived, which just so happened to paint a lot of marginalised people living in the cities as ‘fake Americans.’

I am not bringing you unique information. This is just obviously true things if you don’t live within the boundaries of an environment that flatters you as the most normal thing in the world. The vast majority of the world is not America. There are eight billion people in the world, more or less, meaning that America is about 4% of the world, and yet, it is catastrophically, overwhelmingly, deleritously the common touchstone for how things are ‘supposed’ to work. This is through media imperialism, which is mostly supported by American companies exporting all their media to foreign markets extremely cheaply.

‘about three games that are actually American.’

This fascinating piece of doofusry still, even now leaves me agog. ‘Actually American.’ Kentucky Route 0 is actually American, you see, as opposed to… what? Is America’s Army one of them? You know, the game financed by the American Army? What about Call of Duty, a franchise that is in part subsidised by American military complex manufacturers? What about Grand Theft Auto, a videogame that tells the rags-to-riches story of American excess in criminality, setting aside the way it’s made by a Scottish company. Actually American, because American doesn’t mean America, it means one tiny little pool of ‘America’ where the speaker can imagine there’s a realness and an authenticity to the America-ness that doesn’t involve all the messy realities of what it is to be America. It’s the towns of hard-working people, that suffer under your particular description of oppression, whether that’s cities full of nonwhite people or corporations bleeding the country dry, always eliding the social cruelties and terribleness of these places, as if giving people money stops them from being bigoted (for example).

This is then used to recruit these poor, superior Americans, the you know, America Americans, whose sufferings are noble and whose authenticity cannot be impeached and they are then used as a defense against criticism of, you know, America. It’s the same speech Charlie Daniels gave about how foreigners may think they could push around Barack Obama (a dude who bombed a lot of shepherds with the most elaborate and brutal military ordinance in the world) but they were going to have a harder time taking on Americans who wrestled alligators, who at this point have exactly zero recorded drone strike kills.

This is because America America isn’t real.

‘Real’ America is a nebulous nothing that you can project whatever you want onto, and which is also not responsible for anything terrible that America does. It’s not the American Empire, it’s not the exporter of culture, it’s somehow purer, better, a sort of individualised folk who are to be protected and extolled, shriven of all the things about America that make it anything but its perfect idealised form of America.

I could go on.

I really could.

This is something that defines the world I have to live in. I speak English. I’m white. I’m from a coloniser state. I should be able to integrate easily and smoothly into the white supremacist capitalist hierarchy of American culture, but we are told, that no, we are not acceptable. We are only valid as long as our differences are invisible. We, a real people, do not get to have opinions on America, because we do not know True America. When you spell colour wrong in a chat message, when your accent isn’t quite right, when you don’t know the difference between junior and sophomore year of high school, then you are shown, you are evinced, and you are made very aware that you are other, you are outside, you are wrong.

And really, there’s no good reason for it. We send our soldiers to America’s wars, we buy America’s submarines, and we sing your songs. Our currency mimics America’s, our culture permeats with America’s, we even have such a crushing inferiority complex about the empire that there’s an academic term for what we feel about our own media compared to the media of the truer, proper empire to which we are vassal.

The term is ‘cultural cringe,’ and it was coined by Henry Lawson, who you, odds on, have never heard of. In 1894, he wrote:

The Australian writer, until he gets a “London hearing,” is only accepted as an imitator of some recognized English or American author; and, as soon as he shows signs of coming to the front, he is labelled “The Australian Southey,” “The Australian Burns,” or “The Australian Bret Harte,” and lately, “The Australian Kipling.” Thus no matter how original he may be, he is branded, at the very start, as a plagiarist, and by his own country, which thinks, no doubt, that it is paying him a compliment and encouraging him, while it is really doing him a cruel and an almost irreparable injury. But mark! As soon as the Southern writer goes “home” and gets some recognition in England, he is “So-and-So, the well-known Australian author whose work has attracted so much attention in London lately”; and we first hear of him by cable, even though he might have been writing at his best for ten years in Australia.

This is imperialism. This is a way in which we have been induced and brought by the empires around us to accept their ways as correct, as the normal, as default. And that is the mindset you must have if you want to look at the breadth of videogames, with their American ideas like health insurance, readily available guns, the importance of freedom, the ubiquity of air travel, the branding and iconography of types of food and the sports metaphors and then say ‘yeah, this doesn’t have anything to do with America, not really.’

Anyway, this thread, this incident, was a big deal at the time, in that there were a lot of people from within the community of game developers and journalists who seemed very happy to line up and get mad at a brown foreigner for being inadequately enthusiastic about the possibility of playing a videogame. But don’t worry, after a day or two, an apology was forthcoming for all of this fracas, by which I mean, the original developer apologised for being so thoughtless as to, again, express honest lack of enthusiasm in a videogame.

For me, this was a kind of break point, where I started just blocking indie devs on sight. I don’t want to know what they’re involved in, I don’t want to promote their work, and I will hold tiny grudges against them that I do not seek to transfer or encourage in others. This was one silly incident in which a lot of people said something silly because they don’t know better, or they’re arseholes.

None of this is fair to Kentucky Route 0. It’s a game with its own intentions and its own perspective. It’s not trying to make this conversation happen. Kentucky Route 0 has been choked and gripped by this position around it, where to talk about an American game, someone put a cross on it that made it the avatar for All Things America. The wild thing to me is that I had, prior to this point, played two episodes of Kentucky Route 0. I thought it was pretty good, and I liked what it did with the negative space of dialogue options – when a character you’re controlling makes excuses, the excuses you choose show you other things you could be making excuses about that you, the player, didn’t know beforehand. That’s some good Narrative Storytelling Design, I like that a lot. But now I can’t really engage with Kentucky Route Zero because the main thing it makes me think about is how this final chapter, meant to round out the game’s story and present a conclusion and a point, became this flashpoint for a lot of people to be very casually racist.

Which kinda poisons the whole thing for me. It’s an authentic thing, I’m sure, it’s a thoughtful thing, too, but the people stepping up to say I should care about it did so in a way that made me hate them.

Any time you see me say ‘three games about America’ I’m talking about this, and the attitude of a particular kind of American that America is, as always, exceptional. It’s real easy to not realise when you’re just voicing your self-centeredness and how easy that is to ignore the opinions of people around you and what they’re saying. This is what I’m talking about when I mention ‘the three games about America.’

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By the way, the three games about America are Crash Bandicoot, Sam & Max Hit The Road, and Bust A Move.