#like come on why do you CARE so much about what OTHER PEOPLE are doing

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ daddy playlist (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : f1 gird x leclerc! reader ( platonic )

summary: the leclerc sister causing havoc in the f1 driver’s life

tw : fluff; chaos, VERY SUGGESTIVE

fc : emma chamberlain

a/n : this was requested anonymously by an anon! I hope you like it and thank you so much for supporting me ! lysm 🫶🏻 the reader is gay, so don’t like it, don’t read it 🫶🏻 also, there are a lot of suggestive jokes, so please don’t read if you are uncomfortable

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

liked by norriz, albono, georgey and 78 others

babyn daddy's home chauffeuring these Lil girls

view comments

lordperceval wtf are you driving a Mercedes !?

lordperceval haven't I bought like 10 ferrari's for you ?

lordperceval even Lewis is leaving Mercedes

babyn calm down, brother dearest, it's georgey's

georgey shame on all of you for catfishing in my car

albono I AS WELL also own a Mercedes 🙏

albono norris, you better be careful in track, the fuck are you sending my ugliest pictures on the net

norizz oh come on, if you are ugly, you are going to be ugly

max1 and not like you don't crash every now and then

colawithice it's the Williams' fault

chillijr that's why I am replacing you

colawithice and that's why I am replacing checko ✅

babyn YOU ARE GOING TO REDBULL!?

babyn OH MY GOD

babyn REDBULL WILL HAVE MILFS

babyn BOTH OF THE DRIVERS ARE DATING MILFS

norizz or they just have mummy issues

max1 and you have height issues

colawithice height does not matter, it's the girth

hamsandwich it's the looks 💪🏻

georgey why do you follow yn?

babyn WHY WONT HE!?

kikagnome the whole grid follows her

babyn except the drivers without talent and daddy issues

peirreneedsgas then why is Lando following you ?

norriz mate, last time I checked, I WAS THE ONE COMPETING FOR THE CHAMPIONSHIP

babyn and it was all too much for little Lando Norris

pastry we still are winning then constructors💪🏻

chillijr Ferrari will cover up

babyn only if they pass the radio in spanish from now on

georgey 😶

albono 😶

pastry 😶

lilyhye 😶

babyn LILY WHY WERE YOU OFFLINE

carmenvroom 😶

liked by lilyhye, kikagnome, alexmieux and 104 others

babyn the only man I would ever spread my legs for -

view comments

lordperceval you are not getting out of my sight anymore

lordperceval dare you leave the Ferrari garage

babyn I will go the McLaren garage

pastry oh fuck no, BIANCA IS NOT THERE FOR EVERY RACE

babyn 😔

max1 I will join you

babyn turning people gay since 01 💪🏻

babyn but before, give me Kelly

max1 you can very much take toto, thank you

kikagnome yn, babe stick to one person yeah ?

babyn stop flaunting your relationship with pierre

pierreneedsgas SHE DIDNT EVEN SAY ANYTHING !

babyn your existence is enough

kikagnome why do I have you as my best friend again ?

babyn idk, sounds like a you problem

liked by norizz, kikagnome and 84 others

babyn SHE FUCKING LOOKED AT ME !?

view comments

norizz was it necessary to use me ?

babyn well yes, you are confused everytime

max1 thank God you will stay off Kelly now

babyn NEVER FROM MY FAV MILF

ollibear Bianca gave me her number

babyn TO YOU !?

olliebear what's so surprising ?

babyn YOU ARE WHITE AND YOUNG AND WELL A KID

olliebear YOU ARE WHITE TOO !?

babyn I AM MONEGASQUE

kingarthur sorry ollie, she failed her middle school

norizz she just looked

babyn itz the start of our marriage book, I have already made like 10 playlists

colawithice tell me you're gay without telling me you are gay

babyn you are LaTiNa

colawithice I WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU

lordperceval every week, you tell me some other girl is going to my sister in law

babyn I WANT TO BECOME A WAG

kikagnomes ITS FRIENDSHIP GOALS CHARLES

pierreneedsgas wait what

babyn calm down french fry, you both only met because of me

hamsandwich please don't, we don't need another person on the grid with an age gap

chillijr I think being in the f1 world has a mandatory check of having an age gap relationship

albono ME AND LILY are very happy 😊

georgey so are we Carlos

rebecamour Carlos, I AM ONLY ELDER TO YOU BY ONE YEAR

chillijr I didn't mean it about us !!

rebecamour Aren't you an f1 driver !?

babyn he is not, he is unemployed

chillijr I am!! But we love each other and Y/N, STOP

babyn no one tells me to stop, I LOVE BEING IN COMMAND

chillijr Charles, control your sister

lordperceval Arthur, please do

kingarthur only maman can

hamsandwich well you could show this account to her ?

babyn ALL GOOD

babyn NO NEED

babyn I AM GAY AND HAPPY

babyn NOT SHARING ANYMORE

lordperceval I love maman

kingarthur so do I 😊

liked by pierreneedgas, kikagnome and 92 others

babyn Kika, the first girl who I fell in love with, the girl who taught me how to wear heels, the girl who taught me how to make my boobs look big ( you kind of catfished pierre..?) and girl who has been with me since we were thirteen. happy 21 my love 😗😗

view comments

kikagnomes finally I get some appreciation 🫶🏻😊

pierreneedsgas the only post I ever liked on this account

babyn says the man who got catfished

kikagnomes I AM NOT THAT FLAT

babyn OH PLEASE

kikagnomes WELL I HAVE A BOYFRIEND

babyn who will gladly lick the plate

kikagnomes PLATE !?

norizz this is the first time I have seen boobs being compared to plates

pierreneedsgas shut up norris

kikagnomes shut up lando !!

babyn love let's just continue on the gc ?

kikagnomes yes, I need to debrief as well !

pierreneedsgas debrief what ?

babyn how you only last like 3 rounds !?

pierreneedsgas HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW !? FRANSISCA !?

lordperceval 3 rounds is impressive !!

babyn not for an athlete

kingarthur sister, what more do you expect from a human ?

babyn like minimum 5 rounds ?

max1 Y/N, this is not a formula 1 race where you go for rounds with pitstops

babyn y'all are just old

hamsandwich it's not about being old !!!

babyn forgot there were 40 year olds who can't even do one round

colawithice you women don't know how hard is it to keep the hip movements going

georgey EXACLTY, WE HAVE MORE FLEXIBLE HIPS THAN SHAKIRA

carmenvroom ....

lordoerceval the silence says a lot more my mate

babyn Colapinto beans, I am more dominant in bed than you are begging to be rode

lordperceval EVERYONE TAKE THIS ON YOUR CHATS, Y/N, SISTER I HAVE NO INTEREST IN YOUR SEX LIFE

babyn also Charles, work on your stamina mate, can't even go 2 rounds without panting

lordoerceval !? ALEXANDRA !?

alexmieux ... yn, love meet me NOW

liked by kikagnome, norriz, colawithice and 134 others

babyn when mom asks what me and that girl are going to do on a sleepover

view comments

norriz at this point, you should sign up this account for onlyfans

lordperceval Lando, stop giving my BABY SISTER such ideas

babyn what makes you think I am not already there

kingarthur excuse me !?

babyn don't worry, I just sell your feet pics 😺😊

lordperceval the best investment from my money would be getting you a psychiatrist

colawithice give me some tongue tips

babyn milf not getting satisfied ?

colawithice you wish

chillijr telling your mom for future sleepovers

babyn telling reb about your Italy escapade

rebecamour Italy what !?

babyn nothing 🤭

rebecamour Carlos !?!?

chillijr nothing my love, she is just joking

chilijr STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME FIGHT WITH HER !

babyn sorry, I just thought you liked mariella

rebecamour MARIELLA !?

norizz just informing that Carlos won't be online for some time because I saw him run after her in the paddock

pastry why are you so mean yn ?

lilyhye Mena in What?

lilyhye exposing an affair !?

alexmieux as she should !?

babyn loves, there was no affair

kikagnomes you nasty -

lilyhye those are some damn long fingers ...

babyn someone just expressed their desire @ albono

albono thank you very much and I can work on it without your interference

lordperceval why in the world have you put me there !?

babyn Alex is lucky you know ?

lordperceval what did mom even eat before giving birth to you !?

babyn dad

kingarthur Y/N !!!

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Pepi's birthday fic!🪄🎩🍌 Pookie's 22 now🥹 still such a baby💛

Also, I inspired in my fic about Gavi loving neck kisses, I keep seeing how Pedri gives forehead kisses to his teammates, I can imagine him doing that to his gf😭 so here it is!

One more thing, referring to the picture below what is it need to do for Pedri to look at me like that? 😭😭😭

Forehead Kisses -PG8

Summary: He loves forehead kisses and so do you.

Since the very beggining of your relationship with Pedri, you quickly learned all his habits, manias, facts, likes, dislikes; for example when he scrunches his face in concentration and pulls out the tip of his tongue, when he's nervous he taps his fingers against his thigh, he secretly loves rom-com movies, he's reserved with his things, his people, including you and his life. You knew how to read every single bit of him.

In your relationship, he's the most perfect partner, barely forgets dates, always texts or calls you, he is interested in your things, he cares for you and for your family, he gets along with your friends, he loves communicating with you. He's just him.

When it's only the two of you or with his/your family around, nothing can stop him from being all over you, they know how he is and they know how in love with you he is. On the other hand, he's very reserved while being in public, going as far as a hand hold, a hand on the back of your seat, a hand on your thigh or a small kiss on your forehead. That could never be missed.

You've never told Pedri before but you knew he loved giving forehead kisses, not just to you but also to his teammates, his friends and family.

And you loved them as well, that much you sometimes started looking for them, pushing your forehead into him so he could lean down and press his lips in your temple. It never failed to make you feel loved and protected by him.

So one morning, you were chopping the vegetables as Rosy was doing the eggs when you hear a small "Buenos d��as" (Good morning) and soon Pedri came into the kitchen with his face a bit swollen and a sleepy face.

"Buenos días" He got his reply from you all as he went one by one hugging his brother, Fer first; then his dad, then his mom and then he walked over to you.

"Buenos días, amor" (Good morning, love) You say briefly looking up at him before grabbing an onion and start cutting it.

"Buen día, preciosa" (Morning, gorgeous) He mumbles, one of his arms wrapped around you as he hugs your side with his lips against your temple and staying there.

"Still feeling sleepy?" He nods humming and inhaling your shampoo scent "Why don't you go upstairs then, vida? I can go to you once breakfast it's ready" He shook his head

"You know I can't sleep without you in my arms" You smile softly before lifting your head, making him open his eyes and look down at you

"It'll be only for a few minutes" You whisper so it's just the two of you when he shakes his head -no- leaning once again to give your forehead a kiss and then he went a bit further down to your lips and kissed you softly. "Amor, go"

"You can go with him, Y/N/N" Fer says coming up to you "I can handle this"

"No, don't worry. I'm almost done"

"Go, hija" Rosy spoke up "You must be tired as well, you just came from a flight a few hours ago"

"I'm good, I promise. Let me just finish this"

"Hijo" (Son) Fernando said looking at Pedri, who just chuckled and grabbed you by the back of your thighs

You dropped the knife and the onion in the counter, letting a small yell out "¡Ahh Pedri! Fernando, Rosy; I want to help!"

"You already helped us, bonita" (Pretty) Fernando said

"But I love doing that type of salad, please!"

"I'll do it" Fer smiled

"Make sure to add mustard and a bit of sugar, please!" You raise your voice as Pedri pulled the two of you out of the kitchen "You're mean"

"I just want my girlfriend, too much to ask?"

"No" You kissed his cheek "You were going to have me after helping your parents, now they'll think bad of me"

"Preciosa, we've been together for almost three years now, they absolutely love you, they could never think bad of you" Pedri opened the door to his room, letting you in and closing the door on him "You're their daughter, now" He said now on the bed, covering the both of you with the blankets.

"Is my food that bad?" You ask

"Nena" (Baby) "Stop that. They absolutely love and adore you and your skills" He said dropping a kiss to your temple.

You smiled "Wanna know something?" You whisper

"What's up?"

"I really love you giving me forehead Kisses. They're my favorite" You say feeling your cheeks grow red

"Are they?" You nod embarrassed hiding your face into his neck. You feel and hear Pedri's giggle "Don't be embarrassed"

"Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm not! I just think you're way too cute" He kissed your temple one more time

"Pedriiii" You whine

"Wanna know something too?" He pulls his face away, so you're looking straight into his big brown eyes

"What?"

"I love giving you forehead kisses" He smiles "They're my favorite type of kiss too" You smile at him, both of you lean in and soon your lips meet in a slow, loving kiss. "I love you"

"I love you too, Pepi"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela (if you'd like to be tagged, let me know!) also @luvgavii 🫶🏻✨ a small birthday gift, hope you like it!

[angelltheninth]

Eye Candy and Muscles

Pairing: Sevika x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, vacation, teasing, relationship banter, flirting, being protective

Word count: 0.9k

Ao3

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: Sevika makes my brain melt.

It was very rare for Sevika to get vacation days. Maybe a few days a year where that she can have all to herself. When you can have her all to herself all day, with her having to run off on you.

Usually you spend those days in Zaun, but this year Sevika wanted to make it feel a little more special. A weekend on the western coast of Valoran seemed like a good spot. So you packed your bags, looking forward to a relaxing weekend with your girlfriend.

Sevika was in a really good mood all throughout, and that only seemed to increase once you arrived on the beach.

First off, yes the water looked nice and cool but you could hardly focus on that when you had Sevika doing stretches in her bathing suit right in front of you. The way it cupped and hugged her curves just right, leaving something to the imagination for others while also looking like a perfectly packaged gift for you, forget the sea, you wanted to drown yourself in her.

Judging by the look she was giving you she had the exact same idea about you.

"You know you've seen me naked before right? You don't have to gawk at me like that?" You subtly crossed your arms over your chest, however you didn't take your eyes off Sevika's body.

She seemed to enjoy the attention though, sitting down on the beach towel and stretching her arms, making her arm and shoulder muscles flex under the light sheen of sweat and sun.

"Come here sweet stuff, I gotta get some of that sunscreen on you. I don't want you to burn up." She patted the spot on the towel next to her.

It was honestly so sweet how much she cared for you, "What would your lackies say if they knew how much of a softie you are?"

"I'm soft?" Sevika smirked and quirked her eyebrow as she watched you lay on your stomach, "I still see bruises on your body that say otherwise. Like here." She trailed her metal finger over your hip, "Here." Across your right ass cheek, "Here." You clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a moan as you feel both her hands on your inner thighs. "Careful babe, you don't want to attract unwanted attention now do you?"

"Then stop doing that. For now." You couldn't keep your cheeks from heating up just a little.

"Oh? Then how am I gonna get the sunscreen on you?" You inhale sharply as Sevika pulls on one of the strings and unties the top. For a moment she just keeps her hand on your back, lightly loving it up and down. You almost relax completely only to be startled as you feel her straddle your legs, "To hide you from view." Her words tickle the back of your neck, goosebumps appearing along your arms and legs from the pleasant shivers.

"Is that really what you're doing? All you're doing?" You smile as you fold your arms under your head and melt into Sevika's touch, feeling the heat of her skin against yours, the coolness of the sunscreen quickly done away with under her hand.

Her lips press against your shoulder, "Of course." Her voice drops just a little, "I've noticed multiple people eyeing you since we arrived. You're hot stuff babe."

"Why thank you. I can say the same about you." You arch your back a little, which was a little bit of a mistake as Sevika took that opportunity to slip her hand around the front, cupping just under your breast. Your surprises yelp was a reward of its own, and so was the one you let out when she moved her hand away, proceeding like nothing happened. "Jerk."

"Oh you love it." You huff and try to relax again, letting Sevika finish up. Luckily there are no more surprises throughout it and you're on the verge of falling asleep. The warmth of the sun, the slight breeze, and the comforting weight of Sevika's body as well as her hand and the occasional touch of her lips, it's all way too comfortable for you. "Done."

You groan, she has to be doing that intentionally. It's torture.

"Thanks." There's not a lot of thankfulness in your tone as you shrug her off and tie the top back into place. Sevika only chuckles upon seeing your pouty face.

"Not that type of beach." She winks, "We could go if you want."

"Nah." Now it's your turn to be a little possessive. You straddle her lap and raise yourself up so you can look down at her, your arms draped across her shoulders, "I don't like other people seeing you naked. Certain parts are for my eyes only."

"Really now?" Sevika leans in, eyes locking on your lips. You lick your lips, waiting, locked on her own. "Then maybe we should get in the water so we can go to the bedroom quicker." You giggle as she picks you up with one arm, the mechanical one on your hip to keep you balanced.

"I can get behind that." You kiss the purple lines on her cheek.

Sevika grins wolfishly, "No. that's gonna be me when I get you behind closed doors." She locks her lips with yours, give you a brief taste of what's to come later. For now though, you can enjoy the cool water of the sea. After what she just told you, a little cooling down is just what you need.

[thrashkink-coven]

Im not even gonna waste my time pulling out research for this one because my last post addressed all of it.

Talking about the Bible without the context in which it was written is hilarious and ridiculous. You keep asking why I’m bringing up Jewish tests in reference to God’s ethical beliefs. Lmfao.

In order to answer question, does the Bible condemn abortion, does God condemn abortion, we need to understand the people who WROTE the Bible and who believed in that God. Humans wrote the Bible, humans had values and beliefs that they wrote into the Bible. Understanding the bible outside of its historical context (“who cares what Jews thought?!” WHAT????) makes absolutely no sense.

The Bible does not exist in isolation from its people. To understand what it says and what it meant you need to understand the people that wrote it, and the context in which it was written. Otherwise you lead to ridiculous conclusions like “premature death is different from miscarriage gotcha!”

Just to knock that last one off because idk how this somehow isn’t clear to you by now

“you failed to prove that God sees abortion as separate from murder”

Yknow what, you’re right, I didn’t. Because God doesn’t talk about abortion. I did prove that the causing of a miscarriage was not the same as murder though. Multiple times actually.

“A premature birth” in antiquity was a miscarriage. Like…. come on dude. We have to use common sense and logic as well when we make these interpretations. If the wife gives birth prematurely and there is no other injury, what do you think a premature death would have lead to? Why do you think translators chose the word miscarry? Because of some secret agenda? No, because it more accurately represented the intended meaning of the text. A premature baby in antiquity is 9.8/10 not going to survive. The baby was the property of the father, thus the fine. Lmfao like come on dude.

It makes no fucking sense for there to be a fine without a loss 🙏😭 I’m sorry but come on dude. I even expanded upon this in my second post. When you look at the Bible in its proper context and look at the laws of the people at the time, you can actually understand the Bible properly.

So we’ve established again, with the appropriate context, because that context is important, that a fetus is not regarded the same as its Mother, unless in cases of late term miscarriage. That’s not just my interpretation, the religions of Christianity and Judaism have been debating this for centuries. Priests and Rabbis who’ve dedicated far more time into analyzing the text than you and I have not come to a conclusion on this because the text simply is not conclusive on the subject and neither was the culture that wrote it. Oh sorry, but your personal interpretation is totally worth more than hundreds of years of theology and religious debate and study. My bad. You’ve totally figured out what the priests and scholars of the past have not. Well done.

saying that “OBVIOUSLY abortion is murder so obviously it didn’t need to be mentioned!!” is to imply that a fully formed person is nothing more than a clump of cells. In my opinion, that’s semantics lmfao. A fetus and embryo is as much person as dough is bread. And you and I can disagree on that forever because the Bible does not clearly explain when a fetus becomes a person anyways. All conclusions about this topic are speculation.

and??? to say that the beliefs of the church are irrelevant??? what??? 😭

The institutions that are devoted to serving God are not a reliable source of it’s interpretations and regard throughout history? The followers of God…. do not… lead… to God???? Wh….

what are they following ?

“History is wrong, the people were wrong, but me, I know what God REALLY thinks.”

ok buddy.

most frustrating thing I’ve learned recently as i continue to read the bible

yeah so the bible literally never, at any point condemns abortion. Jesus never condemned abortion. In fact :) the bible actually provides instructions on how to properly have one. seriously. Look into it. Christianity takes its ethical base from Judaism, and Judaism says that you're not a person with a soul until you draw your first breath.

so :)

hahaha :) there’s literally no reason :) why Christians want to deny women and afab people healthcare :) besides the obvious, to control our bodies.

like :) there’s literally no reason :))

guys 🙏 absolutely NO scripture. :) condemning abortion even once. :)))))))

i’m about to lose my fucking MIND.

[bullet-prooflove]

Three Shots: Ryan x Reader (Yellowstone)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @yousigned-upforthis @queenslandlover-93 @ladychaos1525

Companion piece to:

Kitty - Ryan knows something's not right when he seees you with another man.

Such A Good Girl - Ryan makes a realisation about your undercover op.

It’s the gun shots that change everything.

There’s three of them, each one a loud retort that echoes through the clear night air as Ryan sits behind the wheel of his truck, that casefile on his lap. He’s out of the vehicle in an instant, heart hammering in his chest as he races towards the house with his Glock in his hand.

This shit right here, this is his nightmare.

The door is unlocked when he reaches it, it’s the way of people who buy second homes in remote areas like this. They don’t think to lock the doors because whose around to open them anyway.

The stench of cordite hits him the moment he steps into the hall way, he can taste it on his tongue as he searches the house for you with a franticness he feels in the very depths of his soul. It’s in the study he finds you and the scene… it’s nothing like he expected.

You’re sitting in a leather chesterfield with Myer’s dead body at your feet and your gun in your hand, resting lightly on the arm of the chair. Blood blossoms across the expensive cream sweater the other man is wearing, saturating the fabric as crimson spreads underneath him. It’s the expression on his features that gets Ryan, the look of absolute surprise that his life had ended this way.

“Katalina.” Ryan says softly trying to understand what happened and you look up at him without so much as a hair out of place.

“I found that.” You tell him as you gesture to the laptop on the coffee table. “And I just couldn’t let him get away with it.”

Ryan folds his sleeve over his hand, careful not to leave a fingerprint as he presses the space bar. A video starts to play and it’s the worst fucking thing he’s seen in his entire life.

“There’s one for each of them.” You tell him, your voice completely devoid of emotion. “One for each of the girls he raped and then dumped on the reservation.”

It’s then that it dawns on Ryan, what happened here tonight. Myers hadn’t attacked you at all. You’d executed him.

Three to the chest, just like they taught you at the academy.

“You need to make the call.” You tell him, your eyes meeting his with a clarity he finds harrowing. “Tell them what you found when you walked into this room.”

“I’m not letting you go to prison for putting down a fucking animal.” Ryan tells you and he can tell your surprised by the expression on your features. “He doesn’t get to take you down with him.”

Already his mind is working damage control, the same way it does with every single mess he’s ever had to clean up for the Duttons.

“You found the video and he attacked you.” Ryan informs you as he starts to stage the scene in his head. “When you shot him, you were in fear for your life.”

“Ryan.” You say gently as you stand up and step towards him. “Nobody’s going to believe that, there’s not a mark on me.”

“Well baby.” He sighs as grasps your arms and rolls up your sleeves. “We’re gonna have to change that.”

The next couple of minutes are a true testament of love and Ryan hates every fucking second of it. He grips your arms so tightly, he leaves finger marks embedded in the flesh. He tears your shirt, sending the buttons careening in different directions. He fucks up your hair, yanking it out of that neat braid so it’s mused up and loose. When it comes to the crunch, to actually inflicting violence on you, he just can’t force himself to do it so he steps back, surveying the mess he’s made of you.

It’s not enough, he realises, his heart sinking and that’s when you take the intuitive.

“There’s a rolling pin in the kitchen.” You tell him, your voice resolute. “I need you to get it for me.”

Love Ryan? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[fallenrocket]

My god, Cassian is just so young in season 1 of Andor. On this last rewatch, it kept jumping out at me everywhere. Especially at the start of the show, which makes sense--he goes through a pretty intense education over the course of the season and transforms before our eyes. But there's just so much in Cassian that comes from being young, traumatized, and desperate.

We see it in his moments of unabashed fear, like when he's stopped by the two corpos in the pilot, the first time he sees the TIE fighter fly past on Aldhani, or as the prison transport takes off for Narkina 5. Even when he tries to hide it, we can see it in his eyes, the parts of him that are still that scared kid from Kenari.

We see it in the chip he has on his shoulder, like the attitude he cops with Luthen in their first meeting: "I don't know you." He's not just guarded and distrustful, he kind of actively resents this guy trying to get too familiar with him. When he's scared, uncertain, or guilty, he tends to push others away, a product of having to fight most of his life and of losing many of the things and people he's cared about. I also think of him coldly telling Bix, "You won't have to worry about me anymore," at the end of their argument in "Announcement."

And yet, by the same token, he can also be surprisingly open and earnest in his affections. For me, this is most apparent in his scenes with Maarva in "Announcement." There, we see his naive optimism that the money he got from Aldhani can solve all their problems. He's so buoyant and hopeful and loving as he suggests running away, saying, "What do we need but the three of us?" Later in the episode, we see that same naivety when he insists, "We'll find a place they haven't ruined yet." But it crops up in other places too. On Aldhani, he chooses Clem's name as his pseudonym, even though he already realizes Luthen has a lot of intel on him and will probably recognize it--in that moment, his distrust of Luthen is outweighed by his desire to go into this dangerous mission carrying a small piece of his dad with him. Then there's that beautiful hug with Brasso in "Rix Road," especially those few extra beats past when you'd expect them to part. When he hugs Melshi in the previous episode, Cassian is rushed, on the brink of falling apart and not wanting Melshi to see. But with Brasso, Cassian needs that touch for a few extra seconds, and he's not afraid to hold on a little longer.

Most of Cassian's dumbest mistakes in the season are very youthful ones. He's an incredibly smart and observant guy, so he's not dumb very often, but when he is, it tends to come back to being young, traumatized, and desperate. We see this especially in the opening Ferrix arc: insisting on bringing an unsecured comm to his meeting with Luthen (oh my god, the way he bickers with B2EMO about them beforehand!) and trying to go back for the starpath unit when the shit hits the fan, even after Luthen repeatedly tells him to leave it. With the starpath unit, part of it is naivety--"What if it's just one guy left?"--and part of it is growing up poor and scrappy. This box represents more money than he's ever had at any one time, and he simply can't process the idea that his buyer would just leave it behind.

Finally, every now and then, Cassian has this subtle but impeccable "little shit" energy. We definitely see it when he messes with Timm in the pilot, deliberately goading him instead of trying to defuse the situation when he sees that Timm is jealous. It's a dumb, petty moment of cheap satisfaction that winds up with some intense blowback when Timm IDs him to Pre-Mor. And I love Cassian's refusal to give up on Kino on Narkina 5, always believing he can be brought into the fold no matter how many times Kino tells him to forget about it. It's a great reflection of how Cassian rejects the Empire's attempts to divide the inmates by pitting them against each other, but part of why he's able to keep at it is his annoying-kid tenacity. I love the scene where Kino brushes him off by saying how many shifts he has left and Cassian immediately responds with, "So...tell me what you know before you go."

It's simply wild to compare the Cassian we see in "Kassa" to the one in "Rix Road." He goes through so much in twelve episodes and really comes into his own, and it's fantastic to see some of the qualities he displays in Rogue One starting to peek through. He's already come so far in his character growth--I cannot wait to see how season 2 gets us from "Rix Road" to Rogue One!

Oh yeah, and Diego Luna is simply stunning. You can really feel how he traced Cassian's life backwards to this point, see how different the Cassian of "Kassa" is from the Cassian of Rogue One and yet still fully believe that this is the same character. All the little hints he drops, all the tiny moments where you can see Rogue One Cassian starting to gestate. It's such beautiful, brilliant work!

[softpascalito]

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 6 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 25k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: hello! it's been a second but i promise tdag is still my favorite child so this is continuing slowly but surely (i'm currently just distracted by pedro pascal as slutty gladiator).

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 6 – The Ceremony Part 1

‘I didn't exactly miss it or want to live there again- I just wondered where it had gone.’

— Alice Munro, Dear Life

What the fuck does he think he’s doing?

If there is one person in Jackson who is least equipped to handle a grieving person who’s just lost someone to suicide, it’s him. Joel is sure of that. He should just tell you that he can’t do this, hand you over to Tommy or Maria or anyone else who doesn’t mess up whatever or whoever they touch.

It would be better for you, to have someone who actually knows how to work through grief. Not someone who sneaks out of bed before dawn to get a glass of whiskey and sit in their dark living room to ponder over things years and years past. The way he currently is.

But Joel is also sure that he can’t let you go. He can’t recall how or why but he does understand that you have found a way to get under his skin, one no one else has quite figured out, carved a path that only you may tread, that causes something to tug at his heart every time he sees you curled up in his bed or smells the soap that sits on his bathroom shelf. Somewhere along the road, he has started to care.

Not that anything good ever happens to the people he cares about.

A small groan leaves his throat as he leans back into the cushions, his free hand reaching over to produce a small notebook from below the couch table. He stares down at it for a few moments, weighing it in his hand. Then, he downs his whiskey in one go, sets the glass down onto the table and begins flipping through the small pages, seemingly endless notes, many of them jotted down rather hurriedly, a few written with much more care.

A thud upstairs makes his head jerk up. He freezes, listening intently. And then, he hears the unmistakable sound of someone running over the wooden floor upstairs. He’s up in an instant, cursing under his breath as he moves through the dimly lit room, using his foot to nudge a box aside that’s still sitting in the hallway, blocking his path towards the sound of bare feet thundering down the stairs.

***

For a split moment, you think it’s morning. The warmth beside you is gone. Maybe Joel has gotten another early start, doing whatever he does in the mornings while he lets you sleep.

And then, while you’re still floating in the comfortable state between dreaming and reality, you think you hear a door close somewhere downstairs.

Your body moves before your brain has a chance to catch up. Your legs, still tangled in the sheets, get caught in them and send you flying off the bed and onto the hard floor with a thud. It doesn’t slow you down. You force your trembling legs to push your body back onto your feet and rush through the bedroom door, taking the stairs three steps at a time. You have half a mind that you should shout, alert someone to what is happening, but your throat feels like it’s closed up.

Someone needs to stop him. To keep him from going out into the woods, to some hidden cabin. He always has the revolver on him. At that thought, you jump down the last few steps.

For the second time, your run towards the front door is interrupted and you collide with something solid just as you reach the corner that turns toward the front door. Again, it sends you stumbling and you prepare yourself for another hard fall. But it never comes. Instead, two strong arms catch you and Joel’s face above you finally comes into focus.

“You—” Again, your throat fails you. You simply press yourself into Joel’s chest, seemingly the only place that will swallow your sobs these days.

“Hey, it’s okay. Calm down, I’m right here,” Joel coos above you, his chest vibrating as he hums and brings one hand up to the back of your head, stroking your still slightly damp hair.

It takes him a solid five minutes to get you over onto the couch and calm you enough for him to let go for a moment. “I’ll be right here, hold on. Give me one second.”

He steps back into the hallway, shuffling something around. And as your panic recedes, the tide sinking, you glance around. A single glass sits on the coffee table in front of you, holding a few leftover drops of what you’re quite sure is whiskey. Beside it is a small notebook, the pages already slightly rippled.

You suddenly realize you’re not the only one in the old house who seems to have trouble sleeping.

Eventually, Joel returns with a woolen blanket that he drapes over your form, nodding to himself. “There we are.”

He doesn’t sit down, instead stepping over to the window and casting a glance outside. As if there is anything worth seeing on a street that never changes, one that hasn’t had cars passing on it in over twenty years.

“I’m sorry, I just—I panicked,” you whisper, keeping your head just low enough that you can still see Joel’s outline against the dim light of the street lamp outside. His shoulders seem to hang a tad lower than usual, still broad but not as intimidating as they once seemed, especially with him dressed in his usual pajamas consisting of soft plaid pants and a worn shirt.

“Don’t apologize. You’re bound to have some triggers after everything. It’s good if we figure them out as early as possible.” He pauses for a moment, turning around to study your face. “Was it being by yourself?”

You gently shake your head. “No. Not really. It was more—I thought I heard a door close. Like you were leaving.”

You can see the exact moment he understands what you are implying and his face falls slightly. “Oh, darlin’, you know I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t leave you. You know that, right?” 

The only response you can manage is a shaky nod.

Joel sighs as he sits down next to you, rubbing his thumb over the small bald spot in his beard. To both your surprise, it’s you who starts the conversation back up.

“What about you?”

A frown appears between Joel's brows at the question and he turns towards you, studying your face as if the answers to whatever questions he has are written there. “What about me?”

“You were up too, weren’t you?” you ask quietly, turning your body towards him and leaning into the couch, the plush cushions and the blanket comfortable against your skin.

“Yeah but I was just—I wanted to get some things done for tomorrow—”

“Joel,” you stop him, raising your brow a tiny bit. It’s not meant to be hurtful, you’re sure of that. But if he believes you will swallow such a blatantly obvious lie, he may not be as good at this as you thought he was. “It’s not fair if you’re not honest with me.”

You can see his facade crumble as his expression falters and he nods quietly. “Yeah, I reckon you’re right about that.” Still, he seems to consider his words very carefully. “I don’t sleep well, sometimes. So I figured I may as well do some work. Didn’t wanna wake you with my tossing ‘n turning.”

Your heart aches at how casually he mentions this. It makes sense that he’d have nightmares. And you’re sure you barely know half of what they’re about. Joel cares so much when it comes to you that it genuinely baffles you how easily he brushes it off when he is the one suffering.

And then, a very quiet voice reminds you that this may be, like so many things, your fault. That you are so messed up that even big bad Joel Miller begins to struggle if he keeps you around for too long.

“Was it about—” You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words. It suddenly appears to you how difficult that is and you silently vow to thank Joel for having found them all throughout the last few days. “Was it about what we were talking about earlier?”

You have to be a horrible person. Because you know that deep inside, you want him to say yes. To assure you that this is about the things from his past that still haunt him and not about Lane—or about you. You don’t want to be the cause for his sleepless nights.

He doesn’t respond, but you have a feeling he doesn’t need to. It’s written all over him. The way he holds his body, the eyes that won’t meet yours. You don’t know what to do. You want to help. Maybe the same way he wants to help you. Cooking dinner, making coffee, getting an extra blanket. Because this is something he can’t fix. Only mend.

7 months earlier

“There is absolutely no way I’m going in there,” you proclaimed, dipping your toe into the water below you. “That is freezing!”

“It’s better once you’re in there. We can’t have hiked all this way for nothing,” a voice mused next to you. “Besides, it was your idea to come up here.”

“Well, I haven’t been before and I sure as hell wouldn’t have if I'd known it would involve freezing to death,” you groaned, lifting your foot back to the safety of solid ground below you and taking a few steps along the water of Flat Creek Lake.

It was crystal clear, allowing you to see the small rocks littering the bottom of the lake and the little fish zooming back and forth between them. It was still enough that you could see the reflection of the sky, blue with a few clouds scattered in between. The first warm day of the year.

You took in the scenery for a few more moments, letting your gaze wander further over the water and the trees on the other side of the lake and the mountains behind them, before turning back towards Lane—only to find that she’d thrown her clothes over a nearby trunk and was sporting a striped bathing suit. A small whistle escaped your throat.

“Haven’t seen that one before,” you commented off-handedly, causing a faint blush to appear on her cheeks. “That’s ‘cause it’s not mine.”

You raised a brow as you watched her wade into the water, sending small rippling waves out into the lake. “Wait, you’re not saying—”

A tiny smirk had appeared on Lane’s face. “Cat was nice enough to lend it to me when I told her we were gonna hike up here.”

“I see how it is.” You grinned, pushing your shirt over your head and throwing it next to Lane's pile of clothes. Unlike her, you opted for some of your more covered up underwear. Swimsuits weren’t exactly a clothing priority and you hadn’t found yourself in need of any until now. “I’m not enough for you anymore,” you said dramatically, throwing a hand towards your temple. “How will I ever get over you leaving me?”

“Oh shut up. Besides, if you are allowed to have your boyfriend over for dinner every other month, I am definitely good to borrow a bathing suit.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” You groaned exasperatedly. “Joel is not my boyfriend. He’s just–” You raised a hand and waved it through the air, trying to find the right word. It wouldn’t come.

“I don’t know. We’re just friends.” You weakly kicked at a small rock below you before stepping into the water for the second time that day, getting your feet used to the temperature of the mountain lake.

“Even Tommy says Joel doesn’t have friends,” Lane pointed out with a lopsided grin.

You shrugged. You yourself weren’t sure what to call your relationship with Joel, and even though you’d tried not to think on it too hard, the question had forced itself to the forefront of your mind more than once. And with every passing month, it seemed to become more persistent and difficult to push away.

“Are you gonna get over here or think about that old man all day?”

Lane paid for her comment (and, you silently vowed, for daring to call Joel old) by receiving a big splash of cold water aimed directly at her. She squealed, jumping the few steps over to you and pulling you further into the lake. It didn’t seem quite as cold as you splashed around in it together, only coming back out when you saw that Lane’s lips began to match the shade of her hair and pointed out that her freezing to death would really ruin the early summer day.

You headed over to one of the log cabins at the foot of the small lake, a place so far from civilization that it had barely been touched since the outbreak. It had taken you close to six hours to make the hike up the dirt road into the mountains. But, upon seeing the view in front of you, you both had agreed that getting up early had been worth it.

“Who told you about this again?” Lane asked, her mouth slightly open as she stared around the cabin that seemed almost completely intact. Bits and pieces were missing but the furniture was still properly arranged, mugs and plates were lined up neatly on a shelf over the sink and even a few items of clothing were still dangling from some hooks near the door.

“Joel did,” you admitted quietly. She just wiggled her eyebrows at you before heading further into the cabin, peeking into the small bathroom and the adjacent bedroom.

“Hey, there’s some towels here,” she called over her shoulder and came back a few moments later holding some cream-colored towels that had probably once been white. Even in the more remote areas around Jackson, finding housing that was this intact was rather rare.

“Maybe we should take a look around,” you offered, your mind already wandering to which treasures could be hidden in the cabin. Anything from practical items like medicine to more recreational ones—possibly a nice bottle of whiskey, stored away just for you to find. As if she could read your thoughts, Lane pursed her lips a little, one hand smoothing over the towels in her hands.

You stared at her. “What?”

“I don’t think we should take anything;” she said softly. “At least not back to Jackson.”

You felt a small frown appear on your forehead as you mulled her words over in your mind. “What do you mean? It’s not like anyone’ll come back for this.” You gently tapped the wood of the cupboard next to you. “Judging by the amount of dust these have not been touched in at least a decade.”

She shrugged, stepping back towards the front door. “I just mean, if it’s been very peaceful here for so long… We shouldn’t be the ones to make it less so.”

You stared after Lane as she stepped outside, watching her descend down the few wooden steps that led up to the cabin and the way the sun hit her blue hair, the ends still dripping slightly.

It took you a moment to gather your thoughts and follow her back to the lake, carefully closing the cabin door behind you. You both had secured a towel each from the cabin and were drying off when Lane caught you off-guard for the second time that day.

“Do you remember any of it? Before, I mean?”

You sighed softly. The question that had become as recurring as ‘and what do you do for a living?’ had once been. In hindsight, you were surprised you hadn’t discussed it earlier–at least not in detail.

“I do. Not much, not anything–I don’t remember how the world was. Just how it seemed to me as a kid,” you answered truthfully.

You could see Lane nod out of the corner of your eye as she leaned back and wrung out her hair.

“I miss it sometimes.” A few seconds of quiet passed. “It’s silly, really. You can’t miss something you don’t remember.”

“I think you can,” you said softly, turning your head towards her. She had paused in her movements and was gazing out onto the lake, though her eyes seemed much more distant than usual.

Your own stayed trained on her as she spoke, her tone a tad lower. “Do you ever think about leaving?”

If it had been anyone else with you, you probably would’ve lied, claimed that of course your heart never wavered, that you knew you were exactly where you needed to be. But this was Lane. Lane was safe.

“Sometimes,” you answered, your voice equally quiet even though you were sure there was no one around to listen except the small fish and possibly a fawn hiding in the undergrowth. “But then, I suppose it wouldn’t make much of a difference. We’d suffer through the day anywhere. But here, we at least have something to come home to when the suffering is done.”

It wasn’t exactly as positive as you may have wanted to sound. You’d always felt a tad protective over Lane, with her being a few years younger and less experienced. You knew she looked up to you and you wanted to set a good example, more than anything.

But that included being honest.

“When I came—When I headed to Wyoming, I was looking for something better than a QZ or Fedra,” you said softly. “I think I could’ve ended up in a lot of places much worse than Jackson.”

“But Jackson isn’t what you were looking for.”

You shook your head. “No. I suppose it’s not. But it’s what I found.”

You gave a bittersweet smile and she returned it, even though hers still seemed slightly broader than yours. It was an odd moment that passed between you, almost an unspoken agreement not to dwell on the topic too long. To not speak of the loss.

“What about you?” you asked, shifting the conversation away from yourself. “Do you remember anything from before?”

Lane gave a small snort at that. “Yeah, now that you ask, I remember pooping my pants.” She shook her head weakly, leaning back and staring out at the water again. “I was a baby.” A sigh escaped her lips as her body faltered slightly, her shoulders dropping a tiny bit. “Sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve been like if I’d been born ten years earlier. If it had been—I don’t know. Better.”

“Well, for the record, I’m glad you ended up in Jackson at the same time I did,” you said softly, nudging her shoulder.

She nodded and smiled, returning the small gesture. It doesn’t dawn on you until much later that she talks about her life in past tense.

“Okay, a tiny bit to the left,” Lane waved her hand as if she could position you like a puppet. “My left or yours?”

“Yours—Yeah, like that.”

A few seconds passed where you showed the lens your best smile and saw Lane fumbling with the buttons before the noise of the camera shutter announced that she’d found a frame she was content with. The giggle that followed, however, took you by surprise. “What?” You asked, looking past the lens and trying to catch a glimpse of her face. “What's so funny?!”

“Oh, I just thought about whether or not to slip this into the slideshow at the town hall next week. Maybe that would finally get Joel to ask you out.”

“You, Eleanor, are a pervert,” you commented drily, letting yourself fall back onto your comfortable towel and reaching for your book, trying to ignore the small wave of heat that had suddenly spread through your body at the thought of Joel seeing you like this.

“You know, I do think you two would fit together pretty well,” Lane hummed with her eyes closed half an hour later when both of you had stretched out on your towels and were bathing in the sun, waiting for the warmth to dry you. Content to ignore the world around you for just another hour.

You put your book down for a moment, squinting as you glanced over at her. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you but nothing is happening between Joel and me. Not ever.”

***

His knock on the bathroom door is tentative, two gentle raps that travel through the wood towards you.

“Are you almost done?”

You stare at your reflection. A woman in black stares back. You know she is about to attend a funeral, the dark outfit and the sadness hiding behind concealer that doesn’t quite match her skin tone giving away what awaits her just as much as what’s behind.

You long to wish her something, to give her hope. But you don’t have any left to give.

You wish you could stay in the comforting bathroom forever, retire the black clothes, bundle them up and hide them at the very back of the cupboard below the sink, next to long expired cleaning supplies and a broken hairdryer. Close the door on all of them and run a hot bath to curl up in, one that never runs cold and that you never have to leave.

“Are you alright in there?”

Joel’s tone has turned slightly worried, no doubt owing to the fact that you are too busy keeping yourself from having a panic attack to respond properly.

“I’m done,” you call out, your voice trembling a little but at least it’s loud enough for him to hear. You can practically see him nod outside the door, even before you’ve moved over to it and turned the knob. Facing Joel Miller is the easy part. Facing the rest of the world is the hard one.

His gaze flies over you very briefly, taking in the clothes he retrieved from your house for the occasion, but you barely notice. What you do notice is that Joel has shaved while you were getting ready, his beard a little more neat than usual, even if still streaked with the small hints of gray that make your eyes linger. What makes your breath hitch in your throat however are his clothes.

He’s dressed accordingly, in a black suit that’s been patched up in a few places and is half a size too small on his broad frame. You’re alarmingly aware you have never seen him in a suit before—you’re certain you'd remember if you did if this is what he looks like.

It doesn’t quite fit the Joel who’s been following you around the house like an anxious guard dog, the man who wears plaid shirts and jeans so much that you remember being surprised when you first found out he does not, in fact, sleep in them. He always looks comfortable, in his worn shirts and slightly stained clothes, like he’s been wearing them for years, like he’ll never change. Like he’ll never leave. A constant that nothing could take from you, like the peaks of the mountains you can see from Jackson on a clear day.

But now he looks—there is no other way to put it—sexy. The suit, tight in all the right places, momentarily manages to take your mind off the why and you very briefly allow yourself to just stare at him.

“Hey, you’re not gonna pass out on me, are you?” Joel muses, bringing a hand to your shoulder to steady you. He looks worried, the crease on his forehead that never seems to leave it these days a little deeper than usual. Of course he’d think that your behavior can be attributed to your distress. Which it can, technically, just a completely different kind of distress.

“Sorry, no, I'm fine,” you reassure him, pushing your way further into the bedroom and taking a deep breath. He doesn’t move quite in time, causing your side to brush over his and you can actually feel the smooth fabric of his blazer against the skin of your hand where they meet. You catch a whiff of his aftershave—or whatever the hell makes him smell so good—just as you step past him into the bedroom and towards the door, completely missing that the slight scowl on Joel's face has changed ever so slightly.

“Come on, Texas. I don’t wanna be late,” you mumble, trying to lighten the mood—or at least distract from the fact that your brain is ready to head down a wildly inappropriate path. It must be the shock causing it to go haywire, or at least that is what you silently vow to believe.

Still, you’re careful to not turn around far enough to actually see him, keeping him safely out of sight.

Because you really must be the worst person in the world to stand here, about to attend you best friends funeral, and leer over some fucking man.

Just that it's Lane's funeral and a small voice in the back of your head that sounds oddly like her pipes up to say that he does look good and that, if nothing else, this may be the one good thing to come out of today. Joel Miller in a fucking suit.

notes: thank you for reading! i have a few more chapters done but opening this fic is somehow both my therapy and mentally very taxing so bear with me please <3

[drinkabletoxicdishsoap]

the fandom’s characterization of peri becoming a father to dev will always be interesting to me because where it did it even come from ???

I mean in operation birthday takeback, bro CLEARLY did not care. He honestly seemed so disinterested and didn’t even care when they went into his dad’s private office by accident. He didn’t seem care or smile for his godkid when he was happy. Even got a little mean when Hazel made a nice wish for him with the rocket boots (“Well that should keep him entertained for about 10 minutes” or smth like that)

Lost in Fairy World he didn’t really seem to care either??? he really only just wanted his wand and to ‘look good’ in front of his godkid and do things his way without his parents interfering. Sort of like how a babysitter wants to look good in front of the family of the kid they’re looking after if that makes sense.

The only time we ever seen him actually care about dev was in the finale when he said that. But even after fairy world got turned to normal he didn’t really seem sad about dev??? he was just smiling after, seemed genuine too and not a fake one. Maybe it’s just me, but if I was a fairy and lost my first godkid, who took over my home, I would be doing anything BUT smiling, even if we won in the end. Peri doesn’t seem like one to hide his emotions easily either (maybe I’m reading into his character wrong)

You could bring up best of luck, which I would say is a fair point, but I’m going to bring back the babysitter/job synonym. Wouldn’t you get jealous of the person that stole your position or place in a work environment after you got fired?? Especially if your rival/enemy took that position?? I PERSONALLY don’t think the jealousy comes from a place of care, but maybe that’s just me.

It could honestly just be the fandom’s way of coping since Dev doesn’t seem to have any good people in his life after the finale, but why Peri? I mean if you really want to make one of the fairies a father figure to dev, I’d say the anti fairies more over are his family but that’s IF we have to choose.

Don’t get me wrong, I do think all of the peri and dev being a father son duo is super cute and heartwarming!! I love seeing all of the art and fics of that because it really is sweet :3 but to me, it just doesn’t really make sense and seems more out of character for Peri if anything.

He seems to care more about following Da Rules in my opinion. And while I do think it’s important to follow rules, especially when it comes to a job, you shouldn’t rely on them. At a job, you shouldn’t be constantly looking over rules to make sure you’re following them, you might end up tripping over yourself. That’s what Peri ended up doing.

If I assign the duo as anything, it would be the tired babysitter who just wants to get paid and the kid he’s looking after. A dude working a 9-5 at his job he couldn’t really care less about (dev).

I mean (only from his words) he wanted to go into the family business. Not because he genuinely cares for kids, but because it’s what his family has done. He’s treating godparenting as work, not stepping into a kids family and genuinely looking after them.

I do wonder if he would act the same way if he had an easier godkid.

BUT!!!! that’s just my thoughts. I’m sorry if I got anything wrong and feel me to correct me if I did !! Also if you disagree with anything that I’m saying, tell me why in either the replies or reblogs !! I would love to hear other people’s perspectives or opinions.

That’s it 😨 thank you so much for coming to another yap session and I hope you have a great day/night wherever you are in the world <3

[neferaskingdom]

♡ My Favourite Person | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Summary: And as much as she wanted to ignore it, she knew that what she felt for him had become more than casual. [Inspired by Casual by Chappell Roan]

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Part 3 of my Is It Casual Now? series: Masterlist

The morning light was barely creeping into the room when she woke up, still nestled in Charles’ arms. His breathing was soft and steady, his face nuzzled into her neck. She’d almost forgotten how they’d ended up here—wrapped up in each other after a night of celebrations that neither of them seemed eager to end.

But her peaceful morning was interrupted by her phone vibrating almost nonstop on the bedside table. She groaned softly, trying to ignore it, but the constant buzzing wasn’t easy to ignore.

Careful not to wake Charles, she leaned over and grabbed her phone, only to see her group chat blowing up with notifications.

Friend 2: "Morning, mystery girlfriend. Saw the video. Care to explain all those face kisses?"

Friend 1: "So… how was your night? 😏 Don’t leave out any details."

Friend 2: "Did he put that winning energy to good use? Just saying, he looked like he had a lot to celebrate."

Friend 3: "Saw the videos. You guys definitely looked like ‘just friends’… in an alternate universe maybe."

She stifled a laugh, her cheeks heating up as she scrolled through their messages. Her friends were relentless.

Friend 1: "Are you still in his bed right now? Girl. Spill!"

Friend 2: "If I were you, I wouldn’t even be checking my phone right now. Priorities, babe."

Friend 1: "Okay, so… are you going to tell us what’s going on with you and Charles?"

Friend 2: "Girl, don’t even try to pretend! We all saw the videos."

Friend 3: "Face kisses? All over?? That doesn’t look like ‘just friends’ to me."

Friend 3: "Not to mention that ‘just friends’ don’t exactly spend the night… 😏"

She sighed, knowing they wouldn’t let it go easily. Her friends had always been relentless, especially when it came to her love life—or lack of one. She typed back a quick response.

You: "It’s not like that. Seriously. We’re just friends."

Friend 1: "Oh, just friends? Because he was all over you, and everyone saw it!"

Friend 2: "Exactly! There’s literally a thread online about how ‘in love’ Charles looked hugging you. It’s adorable."

Her cheeks flushed as she read through their messages, her stomach doing a tiny flip at the memory of Charles’ face lighting up when he’d found her in the crowd after his victory. The way he’d pulled her close, practically sweeping her off her feet, felt like a vivid, joyful blur. It had been so natural, so… right. She pushed the thought away and took a steadying breath. 

You: "No, really. He’s just… He’s just like that. He’s affectionate with everyone."

Friend 3: "Uh-huh. So why is the entire internet convinced he’s madly in love with you?"

A link popped up in the chat, and she clicked on it reluctantly. It led to a popular Twitter thread, where dozens of fans were posting clips from the day before. The first video showed Charles wrapping her in a tight hug at the barriers, his face beaming as he peppered her with kisses. She hadn’t even realized it looked that intense. But there, on the screen, it seemed undeniably intimate. They looked like they were in their own world.

You:“Come on, guys, He was just celebrating. It was a big moment.”

 she typed, trying to brush it off

Friend 1: "A big moment where he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Sure, we’ll believe that. 🙄"

Friend 2: "Have you even seen how everyone’s reacting? They’re calling you ‘Charles’ mystery girl.’ People are actually dying to know who you are."

The messages kept rolling in, and every one of her friends had something to say. She glanced at the thread again, scrolling through the comments.

Fan 1: "Did you guys see the way he looked at her? I’m deceased."

Fan 2: "Who is she, and where did she come from? Because they are TOO cute together."

Fan 3: "Charles Leclerc just won in Monaco and went straight to his girl like it was the last lap of his life."

The more she read, the more she could see why people might think there was something between them. She and Charles looked… cozy. Her cheeks warmed as she replayed their moment in her head. She couldn’t deny that the two of them together, lost in the celebration, had felt almost surreal.

But then, she shook her head, dismissing the thought. Charles was just excited. It didn’t mean anything.

You: "You guys are seriously reading too much into this. He’s just a friend. Nothing more."

Friend 3: "Right. Just friends who look at each other like they’re the only people on earth."

Friend 2: "Just friends who also happen to be practically plastered all over each other. You’re not fooling anyone."

She let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. She hadn’t expected things to spiral like this. Her friends’ teasing was relentless, and while part of her found it amusing, another part couldn’t shake the flicker of doubt that crept in.

Could there be more between her and Charles? They’d been spending so much time together, and he did seem unusually attentive, even when he was halfway around the world. She couldn’t deny the closeness they shared, but… dating? They weren’t dating.

But when she glanced back at the video, seeing the unfiltered joy in Charles’ eyes as he hugged her, she couldn’t help but think… maybe there was something there. Just maybe.

But she wouldn’t let herself dwell on it for long. Not with her friends gleefully piling on the teasing.

You: "Okay, okay! Enough! It’s nothing serious. Just a friend who won a race and got excited. End of story."

Her friends sent back a flood of laughing emojis, followed by a slew of more questions, but she simply set her phone down, laughing to herself. 

“What’s so funny?” Charles mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, and his pout was almost enough to make her laugh again. He nestled his face into her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin. “I’m literally right here, and you’re laughing at your phone.”

She grinned, scrolling through one last message. “Are you seriously jealous of my friends right now? I’m in bed with you, remember?”

He let out a dramatic sigh, shifting closer until she could feel his lips just grazing her neck. “But you’re not laughing with me,” he complained, a whiny edge to his voice that only made him sound more endearing. “I want all your attention, not just some of it.”

“Oh, poor Charles,” she teased, lowering her phone to look at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “It must be so difficult being this needy first thing in the morning.”

“Needy?” he huffed, narrowing his eyes at her, though his lips quirked with a playful glint. “You make me this way, you know. It’s not fair.”

She poked his cheek, unable to stop smiling. “How tragic. Do you want me to make it up to you?”

“Maybe,” he murmured, his eyes brightening. He reached over, snatching her phone and tossing it to the far side of the bed. With a grin, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down and pinning her against the sheets. “No more distractions,” he declared, his tone playful but his gaze warm and intent.

“Charles!” She squirmed, laughing as he tightened his hold, a smug grin spreading across his face.

“Say I’m your favorite,” he insisted, his voice taking on that stubborn, whiny edge.

“Not a chance,” she managed, her laughter spilling over as she tried to wiggle free.

He only raised an eyebrow, smirking as he started tickling her sides. “Then I’ll just have to keep this up.”

“Alright, alright!” she gasped, breathless with laughter. “You’re my favorite!”

He grinned triumphantly, loosening his hold but keeping her close. “See? Was that so hard?”

She rolled her eyes, still catching her breath. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love it,” he whispered, his face just inches from hers, eyes shining with affection.

“Maybe,” she admitted softly, reaching up to trace a finger along his jaw.

Without another word, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, gentle kiss that melted away any lingering teasing. His hand slipped to her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin as he deepened the kiss, warmth and affection replacing all the playfulness from a moment before.

When they finally pulled apart, he pressed his forehead to hers, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Now, that’s how you start a morning,” he murmured.

She chuckled, her fingers playing with his messy hair. “You’re way too pleased with yourself, you know that?”

He grinned, pulling her even closer. “Just happy to have you here.”

After Charles left for his next round of races, life in Monaco settled back into its usual rhythm. The mornings felt quieter without him there to pull her back into bed, and her evenings held a little less warmth without his familiar presence beside her. Still, she filled her days with work, nights with friends, and tried not to think too hard about how easily she missed him.

Charles, however, was determined to make his absence less noticeable. His texts came in constantly—quick messages about his day, random pictures from the track, and even the occasional food pic with captions like, Would be better if you were here to share it.

He called often too, squeezing her into his schedule no matter how busy he was, even if just to say a quick goodnight. But sometimes, especially late at night, his voice would soften over the phone.

“I miss having you around, you know,” he’d say, a hint of a sigh slipping through. “Got so used to having you in my bed, it feels weird to sleep alone now.”

She’d laugh, leaning back in her own bed, wishing he were there to say it in person. “Is that so?” she’d tease, although his words always made her heart flutter a little.

“Yes, it’s terrible,” he said one evening, his voice warm and familiar in her ear. “I’ve been lying here, missing everything about you—your smile, that cute little laugh, even the way you take up half the bed.”

“Excuse me? I do not take up half the bed,” she protested, grinning to herself.

“Oh, you absolutely do. And you’re a pillow thief, by the way,” he shot back playfully.

“Pillow thief?” she scoffed, a laugh slipping out. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who steals all the blankets. How many times did I wake up freezing because of you?”

“Okay, maybe that happened… once or twice,” he admitted, chuckling. “But you didn’t mind, did you? You’d just scoot closer.”

“Maybe,” she replied softly, feeling a warmth spread through her. “Guess you’ll just have to keep missing me then.”

He chuckled, the sound low and full of affection. “I don’t like it,” he murmured. “I think about it way too much, actually… how much I miss having you here.”

The conversations always left her smiling, wrapped in a warmth that kept her thoughts drifting back to him more often than she cared to admit. But every so often, reality would remind her what this was supposed to be—light and casual, no expectations or promises. She tried to keep that in mind, even when he’d text her goodnight with a little heart emoji or send her random selfies, always making sure to stay connected in a way that seemed more than just casual.

One afternoon, scrolling through her social media, she stumbled upon a clip from Charles’s latest interview. Her curiosity piqued, she clicked on it, smiling to herself as she settled into the couch.

The interviewer was smiling, a teasing glint in her eyes. “So, Charles,” she began, leaning in conspiratorially, “there’s been a lot of talk about this mysterious someone you’ve been spending time with in Monaco. Is there a new girlfriend in your life? Will she be at the next race?”

At the mention of girlfriend, her heart skipped, a quiet, hopeful anticipation rising within her. She watched Charles’s reaction closely, waiting to see what he would say.

Charles chuckled, brushing off the question with an easy smile. “Oh, no, nothing like that,” he said lightly. “She’s just a really close friend.”

She blinked, feeling her heart sink just a little. The words just a friend echoed in her mind, leaving a faint sting that she hadn’t expected. She took a steadying breath, reminding herself not to read into it. After all, they’d never defined what they were, and she knew he didn’t mean to hurt her. They’d both agreed to keep things casual, to take it day by day without complicating things.

But as she replayed the clip, she couldn’t deny the tiny pang of disappointment gnawing at her. She tried to brush it off, telling herself she was being silly—after all, they hadn’t talked about being exclusive, and they’d never put a label on whatever this was between them. She hadn’t even thought she wanted one until now, but his words left her feeling strangely empty.

Later that night, as she lay in bed, she tried to shake off the ache. When he called, his usual cheerful voice greeted her, and she did her best to sound normal, even though the thought of just a friend lingered at the back of her mind.

“Hey, you,” he said warmly. “What’s my favorite person up to?”

She bit her lip, feeling the familiar warmth of his words soothe some of her unease. “Oh, you know,” she replied, trying to keep her tone light. “Just laying here, missing my favorite blanket thief.”

He chuckled. “Ah, so you finally admit it—I am your favorite.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” she shot back playfully, though there was a softness in her voice. “I still haven’t forgiven you for stealing my blankets.”

“Is that right?” he said, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “Guess I’ll just have to come back and make it up to you.”

She felt her heart skip a beat, imagining him back here with her. “Hmm, that sounds promising,” she teased, though her words held an honesty she hadn’t intended to let slip.

He paused, his voice softening. “I do miss you, you know. life just isn’t the same without you.”

His words tugged at her heart, leaving her conflicted all over again. She wanted to believe he felt the same way she did, but his casual dismissal earlier had planted a seed of doubt, one that made her wonder if she was letting herself fall for someone who wasn’t ready to catch her.

As they continued talking, she found herself drifting back to his earlier words in the interview, that easy laugh as he brushed off their connection as something platonic. And even though she tried to push it away, a small part of her couldn’t help but wish he’d called her more than just a friend.

When their call ended, she lay in the darkness, staring at the ceiling, her mind a tangled mess of emotions. She tried to remind herself that they were both free to come and go as they pleased, that neither of them had promised anything more than companionship and a little fun. But her heart had other ideas, leaving her to wrestle with the unsettling feeling that she was beginning to care far more than she should.

And as much as she wanted to ignore it, she knew that what she felt for him had become more than casual.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[higuchisora]

Seeing as they clearly didn't know what the hell to do with Jinx/the political repercussions of her bombing the council in season 2, I'd like to explore the possibilities of how Zaun would've reacted to this that would've made way more sense than what we saw.

1. Jinx becomes an extremely controversial figure.

Few are neutral to her. This would be largely because, outside of knowing she blew up the council, no one actually knows WHY. What were her motives? Were they politically charged? Was she trying to start a war? What exactly was her goal? It was never really stated that she was infamous prior to this, but I recall in season 1 act 2 that when Vi went looking for her, people knew OF Jinx, and that she worked for Silco, but weren't really aware of any further details (ex: Babette, who knew Vi when she was younger, heard of Jinx but didn't even know that her and Powder are the same person). So those that are aware of her connection to Silco- who objectively did make many of their lives worse with Shimmer- wouldn't be happy. They'd be scared of what will come next.

Those who don't know/don't care might fill in the blanks with their own guesses, maybe that she's some kind of activist- which would split them further into the subgroups of "Oh fuck the enforcers are gonna kill us and it's her fault" and "Finally, a war!" The second of which I'd argue would actually be a very small group. I could imagine the Jinxers being seen by the rest of Zaun as crazy radicals who don't know what they're getting themselves into/are gonna drag the rest of Zaun into danger. I think it would cause a LOT of infighting. Like a civil war inside another civil war.

How Jinx would handle this would be.... interesting. Especially if the Jinxers start making moves on their own. She never really shows much interest in activism- she works for Silco because he's her new dad, and while she doesn't seem to DISAGREE with his opinions, it doesn't seem she's all that invested in actually working to make it happen beyond just wanting to help her dad. His death seemed to take her interest with it.

Now, they could either lean into this, and make people question her motives/actions because of her clear disinterest, maybe increasing some of the controversy around her (no follow through on her action, letting Zaunites suffer the consequences, etc.), or they could make her actually take a genuine personal interest in it. But that, I think, would take a bigger arc that might be more work for arguably less payoff when considering you'd probably have to change a great deal of her character to do it, especially when you could probably achieve similar plot points/outcomes even without her intentionally becoming a political figurehead.

2. Zaun becomes fractured politically/other "symbols" of Zaun

This can be in tandem with idea 1, actually, but can still be it's own idea. Basically, after the fall of the council, and Silco's death, Zaunites are terrified. They've been run so far by Vander, Silco, and then some vague council-like oligarchy of Chem-Barons, who could be interpreted as functioning like very large gangs. The Chem-Barons have always been around, but with Silco's sudden death (and no one who was primed/expecting to replace him), this leaves a massive power vacuum that the Chem-Barons and smaller gangs are scrambling to come out on top of.

The fear of the unknown and the extreme instability would lead to people desperately throwing their lot in with whoever they think would be a better/less dangerous leader, and by extension, political symbol. Season 2 shows a bunch of new people joining the Firelights. In that case, I can imagine that before long, several new potential leaders surface, even if they didn't expect it. Namely, Ekko, Jinx, and Sevika.

Ekko because as I said, people were apparently coming to his base in droves. They don't tell us Jack shit about the Firelights besides the fact that A) Ekko leads them B) they don't fuck with Silco OR Piltover C) Piltover thinks they're terrorists and D) they look rad as fuck. That being said, considering Ekko's Everything, I think we can all gather a general picture of what the Firelights are about. Plus his cool tree would be a great symbol (@srslylini for the idea) of growth, healing, etc.

Sevika, because those that knew her as Silco's second might be hoping for some kind of stability with her. Even if they didn't like Silco, it's better the enemy you know and all that jazz. They'd feel safer with someone who at least seems to know what they're doing, even if Sevika herself has no interest in becoming a leader. I think some would just naturally gravitate towards who they see as "second in line". This could also be in connection to Jinx, as she could possibly been seen as someone who could "rein" Jinx in (again, most people don't actually KNOW Jinx, they just know OF her and that she worked for Silco and was volatile. Think how Finn referred to her as Silco's "attack dog").

Speaking of Jinx, she'd probably be treated similarly to idea 1. Extremely polarizing. Her followers would be seen as crazy, like she is. They'd be seen as warmongers and/or people who have no idea what they're getting themselves into. They'd basically be seen as the stereotypical "young rebels". The average Zaunite would see the average Jinxer as a young, angry, maybe idealistic radical who doesn't understand the cost of war. I'd argue that, again, they'd probably be the smallest and most controversial group just because most people don't necessarily WANT a war, even if they're willing to fight for it. And the suddenness of the bombing would've scared even some of the rebels who DO want war, because they weren't prepared. It wasn't a PLANNED attack, so both Zaun AND Piltover are basically caught with their pants down, which would also bring some ire from the other Zaunites.

There's another option for a faction I'd like to explore, also thanks to srslylini (thank you icon), but it takes a bit of setting up.

In a hypothetical situation in which Vi did NOT become an enforcer, I think it would happen like this: Vi hangs around in Piltover at first out of guilt/feeling like she has nowhere else to go. She's still not on board with being an enforcer, but she attends the memorial out of a sense of obligation. Her and Caitlyn have a falling out over Caitlyn calling Zaunites "animals", and here is where she storms off and goes back to Zaun, with the final words to Caitlyn that "You Pilties are all the fucking same" (or something to that effect). She's still feeling lost, and so maybe this is where she stumbles around, having maybe a similar pitfighting arc (just not as distraught, more like she's broke and angry and has to pay rent somehow so she might as well get paid to punch someone's face in). Because she's not in a massive spiral, there's unfortunately no emo arc (sad), but the bright side of this is that she's recognizable. I don't think she's FAMOUS, per say, but Babette and Ekko recognized her right off the bat in season 1 (yes you can say Ekko was really close to her, but Babette? C'mon), and considering she was older than Powder when she went off to prison, I don't think it's a stretch to assume her face was a little better-known than her sister's (especially considering she was already going on jobs, and in act 1 she gets into a fight with Deckard who I'm pretty sure knew her name, but not Powder's).

This is to say, I think a lot of the "old heads" knew who she was, especially those who liked Vander. It helps that she tattooed her name on her face LMAO. So I'd imagine she'd show up in the ring, no hair dye no makeup, and eventually after consistently knocking her opponents around and winning every time, she'd become a bit locally famous again- to the point that those same "old heads" who remember her make the connection and come looking. Maybe rumors start swirling, especially once they learn she was gone because she'd been in prison- not unheard of, and probably the first conclusion they drew when they realized she wasn't dead.

So eventually Vander's old followers/younger people who idolized him from their childhood start seeking her out. Sensationalizing her. Asking her what she's planning on doing. Is she taking back the Lanes? Will she get those Chem-Barons under control? What about Jinx? Could she hunt her down, rein her in? Hell, maybe even put her to use? Will you give us our relative safety, our security back?

And Vi, who just wanted to knock some heads around and maybe take a nap in her apartment and cry, is suddenly faced with being "Vander 2.0" and Jinx is the new "Silco 2.0" and all the weight of expectations and legacy and history and literal war and politics are being shoved in her face. She, like Jinx, is now faced with becoming a figurehead when she never wanted to be, which could lead into option 3:

3. A joint approach to Zaun

This would primarily be driven by Sevika even if she wasn't one of the possible leaders, because SOMEONE has to be the responsible adult here and it's certainly not any of these traumatized losers (affectionate). She'd be the glue to keep it all together, the reluctant team mom who WILL make this work because she WILL have Zaun even if she has to die to get it.

This could work with either Jinx and Vi, or Jinx, Vi, and Ekko (I genuinely can't imagine season 2 act 1 Ekko willingly teaming up with season 2 act 1 Jinx AND Sevika without some kind of buffer). Basically, once the other "leader candidates"/political symbols have been established, Sevika would round them up with the intention to use their influence to unite Zaun against Piltover. This would take a LOT of arguing, but ultimately I think she'd be able to get them to shut up and hear her out for a moment. Regardless of how different their beliefs are about what the "ideal Zaun" looks like, they can all agree that Piltover isn't in any of those pictures. She could convince them to set aside their own squabbling for the time being, for the greater good: aka, the independence of Zaun.

At the very least, I think she'd be able to get them to agree that Piltover coming down and hurting Zaunites in revenge shouldn't be ignored, and that they're currently a bigger threat than their fellow Zaunite. So eventually they'd reach some kind of truce: behave like a united front against Piltover, push them out of Zaun, stabilize Zaun, and then worry about tearing each other apart later. And because all of these characters- ALL of them- have shown (prior to season 2) anti-Piltover sentiments, they'd at least be able to agree that enforcers shouldn't be allowed to beat down on their people (especially in this version where Vi has better, more consistent writing lmao).

Of course, Rome wasn't built in a day, so maybe they don't reach a total agreement immediately- maybe they just agree to a ceasefire at first, but still refuse to work together. But once Caitlyn becomes a dictator? Once enforcers start gassing the streets, rounding people up, implementing martial law?

That's when the gloves would come off.

I'd imagine this could also be part of how Vi and Jinx slowly start to repair their relationship. They've got bigger fish to fry, but also, this time their enemy is connected to their own personal conflict with each other. Jinx might ask, "what happened to your enforcer girl? What happened to being a Piltie lapdog?" And Vi would essentially, in perhaps more emotionally constipated words, explain that it wasn't really about Caitlyn, it was about being needed. It was about trying to find Jinx, about trying to stop Silco, about trying to "fix" things, only realize that she couldn't. It was about trying to make things better, but that she realized the person she was trying to do that with didn't actually care. That all she wanted was to make sense of the destruction of her old life, and find meaning in a new one. And I think Jinx, too, in her own emotional constipation, would resonate with that, would understand that. It wouldn't fix things between them, but I think it'd be a start.

It could also help their relationship with Ekko. Since Vi isn't an enforcer this time, and season 1 (the One True Season) showed their sibling relationship, I think her and Ekko's bonding would be more like "reconnecting with an old friend", whereas Jinx and Ekko would have a lot of work to do, too. There'd probably be a bit of a cold war between them for a while, once Ekko agrees to help, because he knows actually talking to her would piss him off. But eventually, through Sevika's manhandling of these three, and being forced to make nice with reluctant-figurehead-Jinx, they'd connect again.

Perhaps part of a plan is for them to develop new technology for Zaun. Whether that's weapons against Piltover (unlikely on Ekko's part I think), or just safety gear/ safer city infrastructure ideas for the betterment of their people, I think eventually they'd figure themselves out, too. He'd see the Powder in her, the part he saw on that bridge, and maybe it would give him the ability to try and understand Jinx. And Jinx would realize that maybe these people in her life DO love her, DO care about her, more than just for what she used to be but for who she is now. And somewhere along the way, they'd be friends again (or they can date IDK man I just want them to stop trying to kill each other).

Whatever happens next is so wide in possibility that I can't possibly cover it here so this is where it ends, lol.

[ennn]

Someone asked me why Agatha kills witches and I was like, for power I guess. I'm not sure if you've talked about it before, but if not then I would love to hear your thoughts!

I'm sure there's more nuance to it, but personally I do think Agatha enjoys killing and acquiring more and more power. I also don't necessarily believe that she traded witches' bodies for Nicky's life (so that he could live longer), but I could be convinced lol.

Would love to hear what you think!

Why does Agatha keep killing witches?

I did see quite a few people confused about why witch-murder seems to be Agatha's most favourite hobby ever by her actions in episode 9, even with Nicky around.

Let's consider her conversation with Nicky in episode 9:

"Why do we kill witches?" "To survive." "Could we not stay with the witches and survive with them?" "No." "Why?" "Because then they will try to kill us."

While Agatha's obviously not going to unload trauma on her kid, I do think she is trying to be as honest as she can in this moment—and at the heart of it Agatha truly believes that other witches will fear or hate them and kill them.

This paranoia I think is a major push factor that lets Agatha rationalise her killings.

The power Agatha that gets from killing is the pull factor. Both are happening at once, I think, reinforcing the other. Power keeps them safe but it also fuels Agatha's ambition. She wants to be a powerful witch. Power siphoning also happens to feel really good.

And I think the crux of this is Agatha's childhood and trauma at 18 years old, where her coven including her own mother tried to execute her—her rule-breaking apparently warranting a painful death sentence.

Let's sit with this for a bit: Agatha's coven, her people, the closest circle of witches she presumably grew up around for 18 years believed she was irredeemably evil and deserved to die.

And perhaps more importantly, for all her cunning, Agatha did not see this deep betrayal by her coven coming. She survived only because of a fluke, an ability she didn't know she had.

To Agatha, this was a mistake she'd never want to make again.

Besides, why would other witches or covens not jump to, or reach that same conclusion if they knew about what Agatha's been accused of or done?

Would strangers offer Agatha more compassion than her own mother? They might, but why risk it? She's even more condemned now given that she murdered her own coven.

The entirely rational approach would be to strike first and take their power. Any guilt or discomfort is the price of survival.

This explains why Agatha still kills witches even when Nicky is around. It's not so much the power rush that's driving her, it's her fear that harm will befall her and Nicky.

I really don't think Agatha was killing witches to buy Nicky more time. If that was an arrangement Rio would have said as much: Rio seems very clear about her deals. Here, she offers time but asks nothing in return.

The tragedy of the story is that Rio doesn't mention exactly how much time—it's possible she doesn't know—and there's nothing that Agatha can do.

I also don't think Rio really cares about getting more bodies. It's not like Rio has a corpse quota to hit. People die and kill each other all the time. I think she enjoys Agatha's kills but in the way someone enjoys an artist's work.

If there had been a deal to trade murders for Nicky's life, I suspect practically nothing would have stopped Agatha from keeping him alive.

[letsgoletsgetit08]

...they were roommates

summary: Hongjoong is at his wit's end with his new roommate. His new roommate, whom he finds out has a surprising way of making money.

warnings/tags: mdni, 18+, explicit smut, spanking, counting, safe/sane/consensual, light dom/sub, jung wooyoung likes being told what to do

pairings: dom!kim hongjoong x sub!jung wooyoung, cam boy!jung wooyoung

author's note: This is loosely based on canon events of Wooyoung admitting he liked it when Hongjoong bossed him around.

word count: 3,246

ao3 link: ...they were roommates

...they were roommates

Hongjoong didn’t know how much longer he could take it. He had thought it was fiscally responsible to sublet his spare bedroom for the school year, but he was quickly realizing there’s a reason people warn you about strangers on the internet. He knew that Wooyoung had been listening intently when he explained the house rules. He even repeated them back to him. 

So why was he so blatantly determined to ignore every single last one?

It was almost like he was doing it on purpose! 

The rules weren’t anything crazy either:

1) Keep the kitchen clean, wash your dishes after using them

2) I keep odd hours so I would appreciate it if you warned me if you have someone/are bringing someone over

3) Common areas are off limits for sex

4) Pay your rent on time

But Hongjoong could almost predict as he walked into the kitchen, there would be a coffee mug, a bowl, and chopsticks in the kitchen sink. 

Usually he loved being right. 

But after pulling an all-nighter, getting less than glowing reviews from his music production studio professor that morning, and to top it all off, the muted noises of sex obviously coming from the younger’s bedroom, this was the last straw. 

Hongjoong was not a prude. He felt that was worth noting. And don’t get him wrong, he definitely expected someone bright and handsome with siren eyes and an addictively animated laugh like Wooyoung to bring home sexual partners, but he never expected it to be so often. It seemed like every other day he was subjected to toe-curling noises from the man’s room. And yes, although he would never admit it to Wooyoung, due to his own schedule being crazy and having zero spare time to date around, sometimes Hongjoong touched himself to the noises, making up his own scenario in his head. But he would never ever admit that. 

He knew he was probably about to walk in on a sight that would be burned into his brain forever, but he had to admit, Wooyoung was full of surprises.

He barged into Wooyoung’s room unannounced, ready to tell him off, and was met with the sight of the man alone, spread out on his bed, completely naked, with ring lights, his phone on a tripod, and a second camera set up filming from a different angle, lubed up, fully hard cock being stroked in his hand. And he didn’t stop when Hongjoong walked in. Which was maybe the most surprising part. 

Hongjoong was too sleep-deprived and annoyed to not shake out of it and deliver his message anyway, ignoring the drool pooling in his mouth at the sight. He was so touch-starved, and he was just being hit with how badly he missed it. “Wooyoung,” he said, sternly, “Do you remember the rules you agreed to when you moved in?”

Wooyoung’s eyelids fluttered, his hand slowed slightly, surprised at the other’s tone of voice, “Yes, I do.” He said breathlessly.

“Good. Then you’ll take care of the dishes in the sink before I wake up in the morning.” Hongjoong couldn’t help but notice that his authoritative presence seemed to be… turning Wooyoung on?

The younger dared to smirk, hand picking up the pace, bratty as ever, “Or what?”

His own dick was filling in as he watched the man get closer to the brink of release, “Or what? You don’t want to know, Wooyoung. But be sure that I will figure out a way to punish you for your behavior. Show me that you understand.”

Wooyoung’s breath became shaky and he held Hongjoong’s eye contact as he said, “Yes sir.” In a strained voice.

“Good boy.” Hongjoong said, which was followed by Wooyoung releasing all over his own hand and stomach, head thrown back, his open mouth slowly turning into a smile as he came down. 

Hongjoong turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him, making quick work of his pants on his walk to his own bedroom, barely having to touch himself as the image of Wooyoung getting off was burned so vividly onto the backs of his eyelids, hips bucking as he found his own release. 

What the fuck just happened. 

They did not speak about what happened. 

But the dishes were clean and put away the next morning. And it was okay with Hongjoong that they didn't talk about it. 

But as the days went on, Wooyoung seemed to crave his attention more and more, coming by his room to ask him questions he definitely knew the answer to, appearing in the kitchen when he heard Hongjoong in there, happening to leave his room (shirtless) when he predicted Hongjoong would be in a common area. It all culminated a few days later when Hongjoong was working on his laptop in the living room and Wooyoung walked through right as Hongjoong’s stomach let out a loud growl, obviously hungry. He actually couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. 

Wooyoung plopped himself down on the couch next to him, reaching up to pull his headphone gently off of his ear, a bright smile on his face as he leaned in to ask, “Anything I can do to help with that?”

Hongjoong huffed through his nose, “You could be useful for once and cook us dinner.” He said, cocking an eyebrow, challenging. 

He could almost swear he saw Wooyoung shiver at the instruction, “If I cook for us, you have to take a break and eat with me.” He poked his bottom lip out, pouting. 

“If I take a break with you to eat, you have to clean up the kitchen afterwards.” Hongjoong shot back. 

“No fair!” Wooyoung whined. 

“I didn’t say I was fair,” Hongjoong grabbed Wooyoung’s wrist, pulling his hand off his headphone, daring to stroke it gently with his thumb before placing it gently onto the younger’s lap, “What are you waiting for?” He asked as he turned back to his laptop, putting his headphone in place once more. 

Maybe he was cracking the code on this whole roommate situation. 

And he was good to his word, he pointedly picked up his laptop and deposited it onto his desk in his bedroom, closing the door behind him after Wooyoung came by to tell him dinner was ready. Wooyoung was a good cook, and he told him as much, delighting as he watched the man preen with the praise. 

“I want to play a game,” Wooyoung announced as he all but pranced over to the table with a chilled, unopened bottle of soju in one hand, a pair of shot glasses in another. 

“A game?” Hongjoong’s curiosity was piqued, he couldn’t deny it. 

“Mhm,” Wooyoung nodded as he poured two shots, “It’s Friday night, Hongjoong. Can your project wait until tomorrow? You deserve to let loose and have fun occasionally, you know.”

Hongjoong sighed, thinking about it. Really he did have plenty of time to finish his assignment over the weekend, even if he spent half of tomorrow hungover. And really, truthfully, he was becoming increasingly curious about Wooyoung. He would like to see where this was going. “Okay. Fine. You got me. What game do you want to play, Woo?”

Wooyoung blushed at the shortening of his name, “I want to know more about you. It’s been almost two months and we barely have spoken to each other. So I want to take turns asking each other questions. If we don’t want to answer, take a shot.” He smiled smugly. Pleased with his own genius idea.

“Seems fair enough to me,” Hongjoong concluded, “But let’s move to the couch, these chairs suck.” And I don’t want a hunk of wood separating us, he thought to himself as they relocated. 

Wooyoung sat next to him on the couch, cross-legged, so they could face each other. 

“You can start.” He offered to the younger. 

“Okay. When was the last time you had sex?” Wooyoung gave him an impish grin after asking.

“Oh, look! Soju!” Hongjoong said as he grabbed his shot glass off the coffee table and threw it back. 

“Aw boo, you're no fun!” Wooyoung whined. 

Hongjoong ignored him, “Did you post the video with my voice in the background?” He asked as he felt the warmth from the alcohol move through his body. 

“No way,” Wooyoung looked offended, “I would never post anything with you in it, at least not without your consent first.” 

Hongjoong didn't know why he was surprised but he was glad that Wooyoung seemed to be considerate, have some sort of decorum, moral code, “Okay, good. Thank you.” 

Wooyoung reached over and squeezed his knee, “Of course. Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum. My turn!” He pretended to think about it, “Did you get off?” His voice had turned husky, “After you walked in the other day?”

Hongjoong felt heat swirl in his abdomen, blood rush to his cheeks, “Was I that obvious?” He met Wooyoung’s eyes sheepishly, the other’s were half-lidded, hungry. They both were subconsciously sipping on their soju in between questions, probably out of nervous habit.

“Is that your question?” He asked. 

“Is that yours?” He replied. 

“No.”

“Exactly.”

“Yes, you were that obvious. Ask me if I thought it was hot.” Wooyoung was leaning in now.

He felt himself swallow, “Did you think it was hot?”

Wooyoung winked and took a shot.

“You brat!” Hongjoong accosted him. 

“You like it,” Wooyoung simpered as he refilled his glass.

“Maybe.” He leaned in as well, “You like being told what to do, don't you?”

Wooyoung’s eyelids fluttered slightly, “Yes. And you like being in charge?”

“Definitely. How do you feel about being spanked?”

A blush crept up Wooyoung’s neck, “Mmh, good. Definitely good. You know I'll need aftercare, right?”

“Absolutely. Safe word?”

“Chrysanthemum.”

“Um, bless you?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “It's my birth month flower.”

“My room or yours?” Hongjoong asked as he reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind the younger’s ear, noting how he leaned into the touch.

“It's my turn!” Wooyoung was more busy staring through Hongjoong's eyes straight into his soul than he was actually protesting. 

“Jagi,” Hongjoong's hand traced down the other’s face, thumb landing on his bottom lip, “I really don't care.” 

He closed the gap between their mouths, earning a squeak of surprise that quickly turned into a moan from the younger. 

Hongjoong had missed this, he hated to admit to himself. It had been far too long. 

Their lips slotted together like they had done this a thousand times before, soft, exploratory kisses quickly turning hungry, needy. Hongjoong grabbed Wooyoung’s chin, turning their heads to the side as he licked into the other’s mouth, greedily sucking on his tongue, pulling another delicious moan from his mouth.

Wooyoung pulled back, “Oppa,” he panted, “I'm not doing those dishes.” 

“I know.” He kissed down his jawline, “But you're going to make it up to me. You'll be good for me, won't you, baby?” 

A sharp intake of breath as he nipped as his earlobe, “Yes. Yes sir.” 

“Mmh,” Hongjoong attached his lips to the sensitive spot behind his ear, marking him, “So sensitive.”

He didn't give Wooyoung a chance to react, instead opting to reach down and start pulling the his shirt off, following with his own, before standing up and offering him his hand, “Bedroom. Now.” 

He led them into Wooyoung’s bedroom, knowing his roommate had condoms and lube (and probably plenty of other things) unlike himself, who was on at least a year long dry spell. Wooyoung didn't question it, just did as he was told. 

They shed their clothes quickly, Wooyoung gasping as he finally was able to see Hongjoong fully naked, “I've literally never seen you go to the gym or work out, how the fuck do you look so good?” 

Hongjoong blushed, “Shut up.”

“Make me.” Wooyoung challenged. 

“Hands and knees on the bed.” He said, kissing him lewdly before shoving him backwards onto mattress. 

He watched as the younger complied, feeling his dick fully harden at the sight of Wooyoung presenting himself, pretty cock hanging uselessly, already dripping precum. 

“Supplies are in the bedside table.” Wooyoung informed him as he made his way around the edge of the bed, “Perfect.”

He pulled out a condom and lube, put them within reachable distance on the bed, then climbed up behind the miles of velvety smooth honey skin waiting for him. 

Hongjoong grasped one of his ass cheeks, rubbing it gently, “You understand why I have to do this right, Youngie?”

“Yes sir,” He replied, breathless.

“Good,” he drew back his hand and landed the first spank, earning a startled gasp, followed by a whine as he soothed the sting with his hand, “Count for me, darling.” 

“One,” Wooyoung whimpered. 

Hongjoong barely let him get the word out before landing the next slap to his other ass cheek this time. 

“Two!” He exclaimed instinctively, nearly in shock.

“Mmh, very good, what a quick learner you are.” Hongjoong praised, as he reached for the lube, applying it to his fingers before starting to slowly circle the tight rim that was being presented to him. He drew his other hand back and landed the third strike, this one slightly harder. 

Wooyoung gasped, “Fuck. Three.” 

Hongjoong slipped his first finger inside, knuckle by knuckle, enjoying how he was being drawn in. He struck again. 

“Four.” He whined, but his hips moved greedily towards Hongjoong, obviously enjoying himself. 

“You like this, don't you baby?” Hongjoong teased as he added a second finger, letting the other adjust to it before spanking him again. Wooyoung gasped but couldn’t seemed to get words out. “Use your words, love.” Hongjoong instructed. 

“Yes,” His hips bucked as Hongjoong curled his fingers, finding his prostate, “Yes I like it.”

“What else?”

“Oh,” He was already so fucked out and they had barely started, “Five.”

Hongjoong smiled, said, “Good boy,” before landing the next one. 

“Six!” Wooyoung panted.

“I bet you could get off just like this, couldn't you?” Hongjoong stroked his ass cheek as he added a third finger. 

“Probably.” 

“Do you think you can cum twice, jagi?” Hongjoong whispered, scissoring his fingers, landing another slap. 

“Seven. Yes. Please. God yes, I'm so close already.” He sounded so desperate. It was hot. 

Hongjoong was steadily hitting his prostate, “Okay, good. You can cum on ten.” He spanked him again. 

“Eight” 

Another.

“Nine!”

Finally.

“Ten!” And he was pouring out onto the bed as Hongjoong coaxed him through it, slowing the pace of his fingers as he clenched around them. 

“Oh, what a good boy,” He removed his fingers, guiding the younger onto his back so as to avoid landing in the mess he had just made. 

Wooyoung was sweating, panting, he looked so fucking good, Hongjoong thought he might eat him for dessert. 

He kissed the inside of Wooyoung’s knee, working up his thigh, letting the other catch his breath for a minute as he kissed and sucked, feeling almost painfully hard at the idea that he would be covered in marks. Claimed. 

He was surprised at how fast the man was filling back up with arousal. Soon, he was begging, “Fuck, Hongjoong, please.”

“Please what, darling?” 

“Please, I need you inside of me.” 

“Mmh.” He pulled back to quickly roll the condom on, “Only because you asked so nicely.”

He applied more lube, then positioned himself between Wooyoung’s legs, teasing him by dragging his cock everywhere except for where he wanted him. 

Wooyoung arched off the bed, trying to find friction, grabbing for Hongjoong's hips. 

“No, no, baby.” He grabbed his hands and pinned them over his head as he finally lined himself up, starting to push in, “Hands to yourself.”

Wooyoung felt incredible, greedily sucking him in. So wet, hot, tight. 

Incredible. 

Fucking incredible. 

He took his time pressing in for as long as he could stand it, before finally burying himself to the hilt, Wooyoung’s legs wrapping around his waist. 

He paused to let the other adjust before finally landing his first thrust. Slow. Languid. Almost lazy. 

Wooyoung’s hips bucked, he whined, needy. 

Hongjoong took pity, started fucking him for real, leaning forward to graze his teeth lightly over the younger’s nipple, earning a gutteral moan in response. 

“So reactive, jagiya. You're so much fun.” He didn't wait for a response, just attached his lips to his nipple, sucking as he set a steady rhythm. 

It was probably stupid to fuck him missionary. He feared he would catch feelings. 

He feared he already had started to, position of choice be damned. 

“M so close, Joongie. Fuck. Feel so good.”

He pulled back, kissing his way up the younger's chest, up his neck, “Go ahead, gorgeous. You can let go.”

He really followed instructions so well. Hongjoong followed closely behind, feeling a little bad that he was probably overstimulating him, but by the look on his face, and the way his legs latched tight around his hips, he liked that, too. 

He collapsed on Wooyoung’s chest, both of them spent, laying panting together before he finally pulled out, discarded the condom. He returned to the bed quickly, pulling Wooyoung to his chest, stroking his hair, kissing his forehead, praising him, “You did so well, baby. You were so good. It wasn't too much, was it?”

Wooyoung shook his head, “No way. It was perfect. Thank you.” 

Hongjoong smiled into his sweaty hair, “No, thank you.” 

They showered together, Hongjoong carefully washing Wooyoung’s hair, being gentle with him, making sure he knew how cared for he was. Aftercare, yes, but Hongjoong felt there was more behind it. It was totally possible he was developing feelings for his roommate. 

“Um, Joong?” Wooyoung asked carefully as they toweled off together. 

“What's up?” 

“Can we… well. I really do better being held afterwards. It doesn't have to be all night!-”

Hongjoong cut him off, “Sleep in my bed, jagi. I'm more than happy to have you.”

Hongjoong fell asleep easily with Wooyoung tucked into his chest, his rhythmic heartbeat, his steady breath, his weight and warmth. 

He woke up to an empty bed, hearing a clattering in the kitchen, Wooyoung's voice as he was singing to himself carried to his bedroom. 

He was doing the dishes. 

Hongjoong came up behind him, wrapped his arms around his waist, making the other jump at the contact before relaxing into it once he realized what was happening. He laid kisses down his neck in greeting, meeting Wooyoung’s lips as he turned his head, asking for it. The angle was weird but they made it work. 

And that's how Hongjoong ended up giving Wooyoung head in their kitchen. 

The next few weeks went just about like that, in fact, if you asked him, Hongjoong wasn't sure there was a surface in their apartment that they hadn't had sex on at this point. It wasn't until Hongjoong woke up in Wooyoung’s bed for the third night in a row when they hadn't even had sex the night before to warrant it, that they ever breached the subject of what they were. 

“Youngie?” He pulled him close to his chest, “Be my boyfriend?”

Wooyoung giggled, “I've been yours since the first day when you walked in on me, Joong.” 

And that was that. 

The first video they posted together on Only Fans was Wooyoung's most popular to date. 

Maybe they had truly figured out this whole roommate situation.

[winchesterwild78]

Silly Rabbit

Master List

Characters: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, fluff, language

A/N: Just a quick story from a tagged post by @jackles010378. Reader is an emotional drunk and Dean becomes aware one evening after returning home and finding her crying.

This was written fast and not edited good. All work is my own, don’t take it or copy it. Reblogs, likes, and feedback are always welcomed.

Minors DNI 18+

Dean’s footsteps heavy on the bunker steps as he descended the stairs. He had just gotten home from a hunt and was ready to hold you in his arms. 

As he walked towards the kitchen to grab a beer he heard sobs coming from the dining room. Turning on his heels he quickly went in, finding you at the table. Glass of whiskey in one hand and a cereal box in the other. 

A smirk grew on his face. “Hey sweetheart, you okay?” “Oh Dean, you’re home. No, I’m not okay. We protect people, why can’t we protect rabbits?” Your speech slurred, Dean knew you were drunk. “Rabbits?” “Yes, rabbits.” You held up the box of cereal and Dean saw the cartoon rabbit on the box. He chuckled, “Sweetheart, he doesn’t need protecting.” 

You tried to stand but stumbled. Dean caught you. “Yes, all he wants is some cereal and those mean kids won’t give him any. Why, Dean, why?” You sobbed into his chest. Dean rubbed your head, a light chuckle leaving his lips. “Honey, he’ll be okay. I remember he got some one time, years ago.” Your eyes shot up to his, “Really? So they tease him with a bowl one time and then keep it away. Oh my god, monsters.” Louder sobs came from your lips. “I tell you what, tomorrow we will write a letter to the company and demand they give the rabbit some cereal.” Dean laughed. “Really? You’d do that for me, for the rabbit?” “Of course sweetheart.” He kissed your head. 

Dean had seen you tipsy before, but he’d never seen you this drunk. He knew something happened that caused you to drink this much. 

“Darlin’, talk to me. What’s this about?” “I told you, the rabbit.” He lifted your chin, “No, it’s not.” Your head dropped, “Yes it is.” You cried harder. Dean knew something else happened, but he also knew you’d keep it from him while you tried to work it out for yourself. The two of you were very similar that way. 

Dean grabbed your hands and held them to his chest, “Baby, please talk to me. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on. Is anyone hurt?” You shook your head no. “Did someone die?” Again, you shook your head no. “Do you want a divorce?” Your head shot up and you gasped, “No!” “Good, just checking.” “Darlin’ I hate seeing you like this, please talk to me.” 

You took a deep breath and swallowed hard, “I ran into her today. She asked about you. She wanted me to tell you she still loved you and wanted you back. I told her we were married, and she said she already knew that. She already knew, but wanted me, your wife, to tell you that she loved you and wanted you back. He was with her, and I know she said he’s not yours, but he looks just like you.” 

“Sweetheart, I told you I don’t want her. I want you, I’m married to you. She can try whatever she wants, but she’s not going to get me. You are my wife, my love, my home. My emotional, big hearted, sweet, caring, sexy as hell, wife. There is nothing that will ever change that.” He pulled you flush to his body and kissed you deeply. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have drank so much, but that fucking rabbit still deserves some cereal.” Dean laughed, “Come on sweetheart, let’s take the cereal with us to the bedroom. I want to show you how much I love being your husband.” 

He picked you up, carrying you and the box of cereal to your shared bedroom. Laughter and giggles filled the bunker as Dean carried you down the hallway. 

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[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: You and JJ talk about what happened

We didn't know it at the time, but today would change everything. Hurricane Agatha swept over the island, leaving destruction in her path, although if you look at Figure 8, it seems like just a small storm hit. The Cut looks rough to say the absolute least. I was helping my parents clean out the backyard, knowing they were already hiring people to fix the electricity that went out. All I really wanted to do was hang out with the Pogues, but I knew that wouldn't happen until later.

Sarah had come over to the house and told me about the kegger that was happening later in the night. As soon as I was done helping in the backyard, I headed to Heyward's to help. "Those dumbass friends took Pope with them," Heyward told me as he was cleaning up around the dock. "I'm gonna ground his ass for life," I walk over and start helping him clean up. If Pope had left, Heyward was trying to clean everything by himself. "I'll make sure to tell him that next time I see him," I tell him which causes him to chuckle.

"Do you think your parents will trade you for Pope?" he jokes. I let out a laugh and shake my head at him, he already knows the answer. Can't have anything wrong with our picture-perfect family, and Pope was a Pogue at the end of the day. "When I turn 18, I'm coming and living with you." Heyward pats my shoulder before pulling me into a side hug. He presses a small kiss on the top of my head before walking back to the piles of debris he was working on.

We spent the rest of the day cleaning, only taking a break to eat some food he made the day before. I got a text from Sarah reminding me about the party. "Hey, there's a small bonfire happening later and I was planning on going," I set the broom down and look over at Heyward, "I can come back tomorrow and help though!"

Heyward looks at me and shakes his head, "Don't worry about it sweetie, you helped so much already." He walks over to me and takes the rag off my shoulder. "Can't have you going anywhere with that," he chuckles at me before shooing me out of the shop. I walk back to Figure 8 and quickly get changed out of my dirty clothes. I quickly throw on a mini dress. Sarah was wearing a dress and she requested I did too. I threw on my high tops and headed down to the beach.

It didn't take long to find Sarah, she was with Topper. I hung out with them for a bit before I looked and saw JJ, John B, and Kie handing out drinks to Tourons. I made my way over to them and nudged Kie's shoulder, "Having fun?" I ask her before looking over at the two boys, "See anybody worth talking to?" I heard John B scoff before going back to filling up red solo cups. "I'll take that as a no."

I stay with them for a while before walking around. It was getting dark now and I was swaying to the music. "Hey, loser!" I heard the distinct voice of JJ say, I looked around and saw he was definitely talking to me. I roll my eyes at him before flipping him off. "You want this?" He holds out a red solo cup to me and I shake my head no.

"Why don't you just drink it?" I ask as if it was the most obvious answer. He walks over to me and rests his arm around my shoulders, "Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to come talk to you?" I feel the warmth rise to my face and smile at him. "You know you don't have to have an excuse to talk to me."

"I know, but all your Kooky friends are here," he whispers into my ear. I turn to face him and put my arms around his neck, forcing him to dance with me. "I don't care if they know you're my friend J." I hear his breathing hitch for just a second when I put my arms around him. He places one hand on my waist, still holding the cup in his other hand.

"Listen, as much as I hate the Kooks, I don't want to make you a social pariah because you're hanging out with a Pogue" he looks deep into my eyes. He was trying to read me, but he knew what I thought about it.

"JJ," I stand on my tiptoes to get closer to his face and I brush my lips against his ear, "I don't care what they think." I take his face in my hands and press a small kiss on his lips. I may have been a little drunk, but sober me wanted to do this for years. I pulled away and looked into his eyes before he leaned down and kissed me back. He placed his empty hand on the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. It felt like it was just the two of us on that beach for a moment.

We were quickly pulled back to reality when someone bumped into us. I feel an arm holding me so I don't fall and I suddenly realize that someone is looking at us: Topper. JJ looks over and sees Topper standing with Sarah, getting ready to leave. JJ sees the interaction Topper and I are having, and JJ being JJ, he gets in the middle of it. He walks over, cup in hand, and tries to offer it to Sarah. Next thing I know, the cup goes flying and a fight breaks out between Topper and John B.

JJ ends up pulling a gun on Topper, leaving me wondering where the hell he got that from. John B fell face down into the water, Kie and I rushing over to him as JJ let off some shots. We got John B back to the Chateau and I headed home, all of us deciding not to talk about what happened.

The next morning, I wake up and head to the Chateau. Everybody is there talking about Sheriff Peterkin. I stand next to Pope and just listen to what's being said, knowing I'll have to ask about it later. Right now, I need to talk with JJ. I walk over to the dock, thinking about what to say to him. It doesn't take long before I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around and see JJ looking at me. My heart beats just a little faster, remembering our kiss from last night. He walks over to me and sits along the ledge.

"Do you think we would ever work? Like if you weren't Kook royalty and I wasn't, well me?" JJ scratches his forehead before looking over at me, anticipating an answer. I look at him and I can't help but study his face. "Just after last night, I can't pretend that what happened, didn't happen."

JJ and I have always had a flirty friendship. We always stole hushed glances when the other wasn't looking. We knew everything there was to know about the other person. We knew what each other was thinking without saying it. We would always do the same thing without realizing it. We were just two people hopelessly in love, but staying quiet about it for the sake of our friendship; until now. "JJ, I can't pretend either." I walk over to him and he jumps down off the ledge, now standing directly in front of me. He places the palm of his hand against my face and I lean into it.

"So, what does this mean?" JJ asks looking down at me with a smile on his face. I shrug my shoulders at him, "I don't know. All I know is I can't keep pretending I don't have these feelings for you." I take his hand in mine and intertwine our fingers.

"Good, 'cause I've wanted to do this for a long damn time," JJ tells me before placing his hands on my face and pulling me into him. He places a kiss on my lips and entangles his hands in my hair. I pull him closer to me and deepen the kiss. We finally break apart and I can see his heavy breathing matching mine. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his chest. He plays with my hair before we hear someone behind us clear their throat. I turn around and see John B staring at us with wide eyes.

"Uhh-" John B turns away and starts to walk away before glancing back at us, "About time." I look at him and he gives us a small smile before walking back to the house. I glance up at JJ and chuckle.

So it turns out, everybody was betting when we would get together: Pope won.

[ramblingkitty]

I’m TIRED of people acting like lucifer is a bad person AND abusive father, he isn’t

“Oh but he didn’t believe in Charlie and kept discouraging her” he was doing it for a reason, he was protecting her. He was trying to “scare” her into quitting so she wouldn’t get hurt, he stopped when he saw how much it was affecting her. You can see the guilt and sadness in his eyes when she said “how come he can have faith in me but my own father can’t”

He CARES about his daughter, so much. He’s just protecting her from heaven because he knows that it won’t end well, he doesn’t want his own daughter to suffer the same fate he did. Everyone talks about how the hotel was Lilith’s dream and Charlie is continuing it but no one talks about how lucifer also had big dreams. He was like that even when he was in heaven but the other angels saw him as a troublemaker for it. Lucifer saw himself in Charlie

He didn’t care when the spears were pointing a him, he looked ashamed, as if he thought that he deserved to be banished. But as soon as he saw the angelic spears pointing towards her, he moved her away because he didn’t want anything to happen. He knows what the angels can do and he doesn’t want Charlie to be a target. That’s the same reason why hellborn can’t be killed during the exterminations. Charlie thinks that lucifer just sat down at the meeting and let them kill everyone but lute told her “the only reason you’re still here is because daddy gave you and your hellborn-kind a pass from an exorcist blade” the only reason you’re still here. She would be a HUGE target for being his daughter so he needed to make sure that she was going to be safe. Is a heartless and abusive person gonna do that? No.

“Oh but he’s never around/they were never close” Charlie herself said that he calls her, sure she said it’s when he’s bored or needs something but he still tries. If anything, Charlie is the one who doesn’t try. When she called him for help, lucifer said that it was the first time she has called him in years. We’ve only seen ONE clip of them during her childhood and you can see him being playful with her, someone else took her away from him (still not convinced that it was Lilith) so they were forced to be apart, you can see him reaching out for her and being upset after. Their song literally says “not be pulled apart again” it was someone else’s fault

This man is NOT abusive and I’m tired of people acting like he is. He has so much love for his daughter but everyone ignores it and they only focus on the fact that they aren’t close. I personally don’t think Lilith was abusive either but why does no one use that energy for her?? She disappeared and left Charlie with no contact for 7 years. The morningstar family is FULL of love, you can literally see it

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

A great article and a fairly quick read.

By Sadhbh O'Sullivan

Nathalie MacDermott, a paediatric infectious diseases doctor, she says: 'If we had another pandemic tomorrow, I think we would make the same mistakes again'

Nathalie MacDermott is a paediatric infectious diseases doctor and clinical lecturer at King’s College London. While working on a Covid ward at Great Ormond Street in May 2020, she contracted Covid, leading to a spinal injury that impairs her ability to work until this day. She is part of Long Covid Doctors for Action, an advocacy group that is filing a class action lawsuit with the NHS for not adequately protecting healthcare workers from the risks of infection.

Here, she explains to i why she’s part of the movement to sue the NHS.

I do a mixture of research and clinical work, and in March 2020 I went to work at Great Ormond Street during the Covid pandemic. I was initially looking after children with infectious diseases and immunological conditions, and got Covid for the first time at the end of March, likely through a shared office.

At the time, we weren’t permitted to wear surgical face masks or PPE in offices, just on the wards, I think due to concern over the availability of PPE – it was prioritised for use on wards. But because we couldn’t socially distance in offices, people were understandably concerned. By the time I recovered and returned to work, they’d introduced a mask policy in offices due to pressure from the staff.

After I recovered, I went back to work on the Covid ward for children with multisystem inflammatory syndrome, a condition associated with acute Covid. It was not an intensive care ward where staff were allowed to wear full PPE, but a standard ward where the level of PPE was lower.

I was very concerned about the level of PPE that we were provided with at the time, and raised my concerns repeatedly over five weeks, trying to get to the people who would actually listen. But they just kept saying they were following the guidance from the NHS, and we didn’t really know where that guidance was coming from at that time. We were just given surgical face masks, small aprons to cover the torso, and a pair of gloves.

The reason given was that they were prioritising PPE for people exposed to what they consider aerosol generating procedures [medical procedures that lead to aerosols or air being released from a person’s respiratory tract] like being on a ventilator. The crazy thing is that the concept of aerosol generating procedures is a fairly nebulous one: at the time they were saying resuscitation (where you’re pushing on someone’s chest) wasn’t AGP, but someone on a filtered, closed circuit ventilator was. We now have fairly solid data that shows coughing is probably the biggest generator of aerosols, above and beyond other procedures.

I think there was a denial at the time [from the NHS as a whole, not the individual NHS trusts] that Covid was airborne. Plus, there wasn’t adequate ventilation on the ward because it was a repurposed building that didn’t have the air filtered at appropriate intervals; we couldn’t open the windows because there was dust everywhere from building works going on, and it was cold.

I worked at the forefront of the Ebola epidemic in Liberia and my PhD investigated the community spread of Ebola in Sierra Leone. It meant I was even more aware that there were risks of after effects with a viral infection. We know that just because you survive something like Ebola or glandular fever it doesn’t mean you won’t have ongoing symptoms for a long time afterward. I think it meant I was more willing to fight for better PPE and was very familiar with infection prevention, control procedures and personal protective equipment. Despite that, people still didn’t want to listen to what I had to say.

It was incredibly frustrating, not so much for myself but because I was very concerned about my colleagues. Around the time I was on that ward in 2020 we’d just lost one of the most senior nurses in my department to Covid. And even that wasn’t enough to convince people that we should have a better grade of PPE.

I continued to challenge the PPE guidance until I got Covid again in May 2020. After my initial acute Covid symptoms settled, I noticed I was still getting a lot of nerve pain in my feet, which then developed into limiting my ability to walk. It’s thought that Covid somehow damaged my spinal cord, but it’s not entirely clear how or what exactly happened.

I now struggle to lift my legs off the ground, so I can only walk very short distances on my own, and a bit longer on crutches. I also suffer from fatigue and get tired easily, I have bladder and bowel impairment, I have issues with dry eyes and mouth. Are they Covid related? Who knows, but that’s when they started for me. Either way, these symptoms haven’t changed in the last three and a half years.

The impact has limited me. I’m able to work nowadays, when many of my colleagues aren’t, but I largely work from home and do research. A full-time clinical job is physically too demanding for me. I did have a mobility scooter to help me get around wards, but even that was quite exhausting. Even going up a flight of stairs some days is a real challenge.

My passion has always been doing disaster and epidemic response with a non-governmental organisation, and obviously it’s quite difficult to send a doctor who’s disabled out to a war zone or epidemic situation. This has cost me my career in some respects, as I won’t be able to be the paediatric infectious diseases consultant I was hoping to be.

The whole purpose of our class action lawsuit is to prevent this situation happening again and we encourage any healthcare worker who has been affected to join the action.

We now understand that the NHS guidance on PPE had been issued by the Infection Prevention and Control cell that was part of the NHS pandemic strategy. Unfortunately, the IPC cell remains somewhat shrouded in mystery because its membership and minutes have never been made public. We have no idea about the decision making.

Despite the fact we now know that there is clearly aerosol spread of Covid, the PPE guidance still hasn’t changed. They’re recommending that full PPE should only be worn for aerosol generating procedures, even now when there are no more concerns about shortages.

There’s a study that was conducted at Cambridge University Hospitals that showed once they introduced full PPE (high grade masks) on their Covid wards, they went from having a relatively high incidence of infection in healthcare workers to having almost no infection. There’s good evidence now to suggest it certainly would have protected us on the ward.

But if we had another pandemic tomorrow, I think we would make the same mistakes again.

We’re bringing this action because we want doctors and all healthcare workers to feel represented. We want the NHS to recognise that it had a duty of care and still does have a duty of care to its staff, and that means providing the absolute best it can for its staff, not a halfway measure.

We want long Covid to be recognised as an industrial disease by the industrial injuries advisory council, meaning it’s eligible for an industrial payout through a government scheme. As yet it’s not being recognised as it’s very difficult to define what long Covid actually is.

For me, this isn’t about money – it’s about holding people accountable and ensuring we don’t make the same mistakes again in the future. For some of my colleagues, though, who have lost their livelihoods and their jobs and have been unable to work for many years, and are unemployed and applying for universal credit, and using food banks, then I think a pay out is justified and of significant benefit to them because of the struggles they have at the moment financially.