#like is it 'am i the asshole' or is it just now 'make up a tranny to get mad at'

[ham1lton]

oo for the lovesick!lando mini smau prompts what about him commenting wedding vows or something sexual on just about every post that contains yn even if its not something he posted , like hamlintomshaderoom posts yn crossing the street and hes practically proposing in comments

author’s note: hi!! so this is in the toxic!y/n and lovesick!lando universe so this is my warning that it isn’t a healthy relationship. this is an au and if toxic fictional relationships are not for you, please don’t read! this is a joke au <3

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by landonorris, land0.mov, lando.jpg and 1,928,091 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: musician yn yln seen in the streets of manhattan as she does some shopping in the city. she was surrounded by fans before being escorted away to safety by security. this is her first appearance since the release of her controversial self-titled hit album. thoughts?

view all 287,928 comments

user1: HERE BEFORE LANDO 😁

landonorris: LOVE IT

landonorris: GORGEOUS

landonorris: SHOW STOPPING

landonorris: SALIVATING !!! ONLY SHE CAN DO THAT

landonorris: SHE’S SOOOOOOO 😻😻😻😻😻

landonorris: WEDDING NOW!!!! 💍

-> ham1ltonshaderoom: stop camping out in our comments. we will block you.

user2: the way he literally is obsessed with yn

-> user3: like bro MOVE!!!! we’re obsessed with yn too 😭

-> user4: it’d be cute if it wasn’t cringe

user5: lando norris please can you not text her this

-> landonorris: she blocked me

-> landonorris: temporary setback

-> landonorris: still together!!!

-> user6: need to be as delusional as you. need to get on whatever you’re on rn 😭😭

user7: lando still being whipped after the release of P4THETIC! is insane!!!!!!

-> user8: like she wrote a number one song about how much of a loser you are and you’re still simping 😭 need her badly. i just know she’d change my life.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Original Post:

r/AmItheAsshole

Posted by u/p4throwaway1234

AITA for not breaking up with my girlfriend after she wrote a song about how pathetic I am?

okay so, throwaway because this is kind of embarrassing. my (24M) girlfriend (23F) is a singer-songwriter, and recently she released a song. it’s super catchy and doing really well, but it’s… definitely about me. she doesn’t say my name, but the lyrics are about how she’s dating this “pathetic, lovesick fool” who “worships the ground she walks on” and “thinks he’s a prince when he’s really just a jester.”

here’s the thing: i honestly didn’t care 🤷. i know i’m kind of obsessed with her, and yeah, i get clingy sometimes. it’s a joke between us, and i thought that was her way of being playful. i even posted the song on my socials when it dropped because i was proud of her.

but my friends are all saying it’s humiliating and disrespectful, and i should break up with her. now she’s upset because she found out they’ve been telling me this, and she blocked me on everything. i just want to know if i’m the asshole for not immediately dumping her like my friends think i should.

Top Comments:

[deleted]:

“A lovesick fool who worships the ground she walks on”? Bro, she doesn’t respect you. YTA for staying with someone who thinks you’re pathetic.

u/relationshipguru420:

bro, read your own post. she wrote a whole song called about YOU being PATHETIC. and you’re still simping? get a grip.

u/toomuchdrama69:

INFO: Is she still blocked? Because if she wrote a whole diss track about you and blocked you, I think the relationship is over.

u/throwawaydetective:

Wait… is this about who I think it is? If it is, there’s no way this guy doesn’t know.

u/relationshipwreckage:

Dude, she literally called you a jester. It’s giving clown.

u/sadboiforlife:

yta. if my gf wrote a song like that and then got mad when ppl told me to leave her, i’d be out. respect yourself, my guy.

u/wedoresearch:

sounds like she’s making money off your humiliation. yta for staying in a toxic relationship.

OP’s Update:

(two days later)

u/p4throwaway1234

UPDATE: we talked it out and we’re back together. 😊

so after all the drama, we talked and sorted things out. she said she didn’t mean to hurt me with the song—it’s just her way of expressing herself. and honestly? i get it. i love her creativity, even if it’s at my expense sometimes. i told her i’m not listening to my friends anymore, and we’re stronger than ever now. thanks for the advice, everyone! 😁

Comments on the Update:

u/relationshipwreckage:

WHAT?

u/toomuchdrama69:

bro.

u/wedoresearch:

this has to be satire.

u/sadboiforlife:

you have got to be kidding me.

OP’s Replies:

u/p4throwaway1234:

nah, we’re solid. it was all a misunderstanding. she didn’t mean it in a bad way, and we laughed about it.

u/sadboiforlife:

she BLOCKED you.

u/p4throwaway1234:

yeah, but it was just temporary. we’re good now. everyone fights sometimes!!

u/relationshipwreckage:

she made a song calling you pathetic and somehow that’s okay?

u/p4throwaway1234:

it’s art. she’s passionate. i’m her muse.

u/yikesmcgee:

😭 i can’t. you deserve better, king.

u/throwaway1234:

yes and she’s the best. ❤️

u/toomuchdrama69:

no, bro, you’re delusional.

u/p4throwaway1234:

nah, just in love. 💕

u/wedoresearch:

can’t wait for the next song called ST1LL P4THETIC.

u/p4throwaway1234:

and i’d stream it.

u/relationshipwreckage:

you can’t save him.

u/sadboiforlife:

fr. he’s too far gone.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

[pieflavorpie]

My unpopular opinion is that i dont enjoy bards Lament. At all. It is objectively good, well performed with appropriate buildup. However, I am a child with an absentee father, and i have had similar thoughts to him before, and i used to have a friend that went down his path. I have seen and experienced every point of view. And what that was isnt justice. Its not calling people out, or making them realise how they have hurt him.

Its a very broken, depressed man who finally snaps and burns down the bridges with his friends. No, VM never asked for Scanlan's mum's name because that's not something they do. If you can list me 5 times where the team ask questions about peoples backstory [before Bards Lament] BEFORE it became relevant, then you have successfully proved me wrong. Anything revealed is either probed out of them as part of recon, or willfully offered as a piece of friendship.

[E.g: Keyleth talking about her aramente, Pike's history with Grog vs Percy's backstory being revealed after they get invited to dinner with the Briarwoods and Grog talking about his pack when its revealed his uncle has the vestige.]

And he never offered any of this information. There have been several times where VM have shown concern and actively asked how hes doing just for him to lie and shrug them off. They prank him while he was asleep because they think hes a fairly centred person who will enjoy an attempt to bring things back to normal and they were drunk.

And yes, they are mean to him sometimes, because they are a group of assholes. They never disguise themselves as anything else. Vax and Percy's friendship post-briarwoods for a good while is based in distrust and self loathing, respectively. Everyone has moments where they say mean shit to Grog [except Pike] because he cant understand it.

And the "without his songs hes just a guy" comment or however it was phrased was a tactical comment. Because he would be. He doesn't have any sort of weapon beyond Mythcarver which he refuses to use, and he doesn't have anything else he can use to support or fight. The same applies to Keyleth without her nature magic, it applies to Percy without his guns, it applies to Grog when people are out of range.

And no, I don't blame him for snapping when he woke up. I doubt taking a -4 to any rolls made would translate to a Happy Peachy character in-story. And all of his internalised misery finally coalesces in his tiredness. But what happens isn't good. It isn't progress. It is showing everyone a wound that has been tearing open over months, and then promptly storming out.

And his whole "I didn't want my daughter to see me like this." Isn't some Grand Show of how much he cares, it shows him as fucking selfish. My dad being weak is what drove him away, his insecurity stopping him from getting help from my family. That line of thinking is what makes him a sad, lonely man rotting in a flat after abandoning many families like my own.

That man in real life was strong, a brilliant teacher of martial arts. A true marvel to see and train with. He had a certain charisma to him, but he had his shortcomings. And when his partner got too close to them, he'd hold them tight to his chest and scurry away, only coming back for the drunk sex and eventually leaving entirely. Having enough distrust in his heart to claim any unwanted children to be illegitimate.

Now, Scanlan is nowhere near as bad as him, but there are similarities. And enough that I feel my word has weight when I say, if I were Kaylie, I would not want to travel with him. If he truly wanted to be closer to her and do good for her, he'd get better first. And to get better, you need people. Plural. You cannot depend on one person. And that person can absolutely not be your own fucking child. I'm not saying he should've stayed with vox machina, but he should've stayed with a group. A group of adults that could support him. And honestly I feel like so far from my watching of CR, his epilogue with kaylie is the most unrealistic character development possible. I know she's supposed to be rough and hardy, but I refuse to believe that girl would not be breaking under her father's bleeding desperation for validation. And I definitely refuse to believe that she could actually help him to the point he'd gladly leave her on another continent while he talked to the people he'd snapped at.

Anyway, fuck dickhead dads who don't get actual help. Especially fuck them when they start depending on their children for them to be a good person.

For those who do not know. Scanlan's departure from the party in the stream wasn't as... friendly. It was kind of an ugly break-up. It came from Sam wanting to do some unexpected twist with Scanlan's character and it led to a very emotional moment. That he did not feel validated, that he did not feel appreciated and that he was considered a joke by the group.

And it came down to one phrase from Scanlan to the group: "What is my mother's name?" and when nobody was able to answer the question. Scanlan left.

However, interesting little tid-bit that might help understand this change. which comes from one of the Q&A. which is no longer up because... uhm... a whole other Drama I am not here to explain.

And what Sam said in that Q&A is that there WAS one way in which Scanlan would have stayed.

And it was Pike. who wasn't there at the time (technically was as an NPC, but since Ashley wasn't there, it's the same thing), but which Sam said was the only person who could change his decision.

And what has Pike done the entire season? BE that person who supported Scanlan in his darkest moment, and who deflated the situation probably without meaning to. And so he is able to leave the party in much better terms.

A shame because the emotional rollercoaster that it involved will be missed, but hey, it's cool to see what Sam meant by saying Pike was the one person who could stop Scanlan walking out of the party like he did

[ankoluvly]

how likely are the Slytherin boys to be toxic?

Characters: Lorenzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Tom Riddle, Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle

Cw: Toxic relationships of course

- ♡ 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑜 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝒻𝑜𝓎 ( 6.5/10 )

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Draco is definitely an asshole in the earlier movies and i don’t feel like his attitude would just magically change to drastically. He’s still stuck up.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . I feel like he’d be more on the possessive side of abusive. he can be sweet and kind to you, but at the same time he gives you almost no freedom and tries controlling your everyday.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’ll demand to know where you are 24/7 and expects you to tell him everything. He gives death glares to any of your guy friends and so on.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . And don’t get me started on manipulation. he’s the KING of manipulation. he’d make you think that all your worries are just in your head. Or he’d make you think it’s your fault and you’re the problem.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’d act all sweet and make little jokes that you’re to oblivious to pick up on.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “I own you, don’t i sweetheart?

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “All i do is try to care for you and you get all stuck up with me. Now is that fair dear? All i am is concerned.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Why is everything always my fault? can’t you understand that there’s the possibility of a war right around the corner?”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “You get with me knowing who i am, then try to change who i am. You don’t see a problem with that?”

୨୧

- ♡ 𝐿𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓏𝑜 𝐵𝑒𝓇𝓀𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝑒 ( 9/10 )

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . My baby Lorenzo is definitely bipolar. You’ll have a few months, or days, or weeks, of peace.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ‘The calm before the storm’

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Lorenzo’s the mind fuck type. He’d most likely only ever lay hands on you in bed, in a kinky way. He just love’s to let out random shit that gets you mad.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Also a possessive type. But unlike Draco, he doesn’t care about your self respect. Threaten to break up with him? one of your nudes with just your face blurred out is sent ‘round the school. Or maybe he’ll pay some random guy to pretend to be into you just to fuck with you mentally.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . During arguments it’s insult galore.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Now he’s not always just calm, if he feels you’re gone for good he pulls out the manipulation.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’ll find a way to ruin every aspect of your love life while manipulating you into thinking he’s changed, he’ll show up to your house with flowers and ‘sad’ eyes: “I’m so sorry baby, please, let’s start over. I love you so much and i just don’t know how to express it, i promise i’ll do better. I’d do anything for you love.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “You’re such a sweetheart hun,”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Break up with me? hm… didn’t you say that ten different times in the past, but you’re still here?”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “If you’re gonna act like a slut i might as well treat you like one.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Really? well i thought you would’ve loved for them to see you half naked with how much you were eating up their attention last night.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Please sweetie, You know i was just mad. Nobody loves you like i do.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “We’re bad for eachother, that’s what make us.. well, us.”

୨୧

- ♡ 𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓈𝑒 𝒵𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓃𝒾 ( 4/10 )

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . My mans mother raised him right.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’s such a gentlemen.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He may be a little passive aggressive when upset but overall he knows how to keep his cool. His cold exterior would warm up when it comes to a women, not wanting to make them uncomfortable or feel like a nuisance.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . But just because he respects women doesn’t mean he’s a push over, if you’re a bitch he’ll probably just leave you.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . The most he’ll be ‘toxic’ is just sometimes being a little over jealous and sometimes little insults fall past his lips.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . The best example being when you finally saw one of your long-term friends and you three had dinner (courtesy of Blaise) just for you guys to get in the car after and he’s all moody. He can be a bit of a drama queen at times.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Honestly he’s just so loving most of the time <3

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “You ok?”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Well if you like him so much maybe you should go home with him instead?”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “I’m not mad just… disappointed.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Perhaps we should both just leave each other alone for awhile and calm down.”

୨୧

- ♡ 𝒯𝑜𝓂 𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 ( 10/10 )

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Is anyone surprised? It’s Tom Riddle we’re talking about.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He likes a woman that’ll have an attitude with others, but you better get rid of that attitude when talking to him.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’s a silent guy, so it’s easy to take advantage of that and flirt with other guys etc. But there’ll be hell to pay after.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’s not the type to beg for you to stay with him if you want to break up, because he simply won’t let you go. if he has to tie you down to the bed he will.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He doesn’t care much for your comfort. He’s willing to use you for his plans if he feels it’ll be beneficial. If a guys acting like a creep he still expects you to keep up your act.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Depending on your house, he won’t bother to hide his disgust in himself that he fell for you (especially if you’re a hufflepuff). He won’t even be ashamed about hiding your relationship while the two of you are still at Hogwarts.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He fucks with you by how neutral he always seems. He can say that most hurtful shit to you but have little emotion, as if he was just stating a casual everyday fact.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “You can and Will take it.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “But i didn’t ask you if you wanted to, did i? now go.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “You should be glad i’ve kept you alive. If it weren’t for the fact you’re useful, You would be long dead, ‘hufflepuff’.” (because we all know Mr. Tom Riddle doesn’t admit to loving someone)

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Seems you’ve gotten a little carried away,” *Definitely grabbing you by your face aggressively.* “You can talk to others that way but don’t think you can speak to me, your superior, that way. Be grateful for once.”

୨୧

- ♡ 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜𝒹𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝓉 ( 5.5/10 )

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Theo doesn’t necessarily seem like the intentionally toxic type, but he’s like one of those guys that are too ‘nonchalant’.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . I feel like he’d unintentionally come off as bored or cold when you two would be doing something or you try talking to him. Or when you’re trying to get on his nerves but he has almost no reaction.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’d unintentionally make you doubt your two’s relationship even if he’s happy with it. Which, from personal experience, fucking sucks.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . But if you tried talking to him i feel it may depend on his mood, but overall i think he’d take what you said to heart. However still struggle to really change.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . At the end of the day it’s on your preference and if you can deal with a relationship like that or not.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Hah ha very funny,”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “I’m going out with Blaise, maybe later?”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Yeah it’s cool.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “C’mon sweetheart, you know it’s not like that.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “I’ll work on it, promise.”

୨୧

- ♡ 𝑀𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒽𝑒𝑜 𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 ( 5/10 )

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Mattheo isn’t the type to really be toxic when in a relationship. He’s the type of guy that wouldn’t get in a relationship with someone he doesn’t like. If he just thinks they’re hot he’d hook up with them, no need to get in some committed relationship.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Although he is cocky, and his cocky attitude tends to strain some of his relationships. Though it’s all in light fun, not everyone can deal with it.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He also has a bad habit of not working on his negative traits. Which would also strain your relationship. When you mention any of his negative traits(But can this man have any?) he’d get defensive instead of trying to understand where you’re coming from.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . So like Theo, i feel like it’d depend on your personality and what bothers you. Overall he’d be a pretty lovey boyfriend.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “I would be happy too. Dating *The* Mattheo riddle,”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “C’mon you know you love me,”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . *In some goofy mocking tone* “Why so serious?”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Seriously? you’re being overdramatic and you know it.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “That’s whats got your panties in such a twist? seriously?”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Written by ankoluvly, 2024 on tumblr!

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Just wanted to write and post something quickly because i feel shitty not posting anything.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . I wrote this before bed then lazily proof-read it in the morning, so sorry about spelling mistakes.

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: in your hands

authors note: welp. here i am, once again. we're back with yet another 'what if' scenario, prompted by you lovely people in an ask that i can't seem to find to link right now. smh.

words: 3.3k

warnings: none. just sam being sam.

song inspo: in your hands by halle

Roman should have stuck with his first mind. Stayed home. Texted her some excuse about being caught up with work. She would have never found out the truth, and even if she did, he wouldn’t have given two fucks. 

Because this shit doesn’t seem to be getting any better. 

This dating thing. 

It’s gotta be at least the fifth or sixth one he’s taken her on, and each one has been just as miserable up until the point where he gets her on her knees, gagging or bouncing on his dick the minute they get back to his penthouse. Anything before that has been irksome, borderline miserable. 

Samantha is stunning. Has been since they were kids, and her body is the most desirable of the women he has on his roster. She leans on the thinner side of what he prefers, but the tits and ass are decent, regardless. She’s also just as kinky as him, which is why they’ve worked all these years.

But, the more “dates” Roman forces himself to power through, the more he’s starting to feel like bedroom activities is where it stops for them. 

Technically, he’s always known this. Even if he did have some level of desire to be in a real relationship with someone, which he doesn't, it would never be her. She’s vain, condescending, and seems to think she’s somehow better than the other women he fucks with.

If only she realized he views her just like he views the rest of the women. A warm body with a wet cunt to help him get his dick wet. 

“Roman!” Her voice cuts through his inner dialogue as he focuses on her cleavage. The dress she wore, short and tight, doesn’t help his desire to skip to the fucking part of this evening. “Did you hear what I said?”

“No.” Roman sees no sense in lying to her. “I probably don’t care either.”

She rolls her eyes and proceeds to continue like he literally didn’t just tell her he doesn’t care. “I was saying we should go somewhere.”

He’s partially intrigued now. Mostly because he’ll probably need to set her ass straight. “Where?”

She smiles and shrugs. “I don’t know. I was thinking Bora Bora.”

He shakes his head. “So go.”

She frowns, clarifying. “I said we should go, Roman.”

He scoffs, looking off at the ice sculpture in the middle of the upscale restaurant. A waste of money, in his opinion. “What the hell makes you think I have time to go to fucking Bora Bora with you?” He really wants to ask her what makes her think he would want to in the first place, but he’s trying to be somewhat less of an asshole to see if maybe this could work.

His Wise Man’s nervous voice balanced out with sage wisdom returning to the front of his mind.

“If the Elders are to force you into a marriage, why not with someone you already know? Especially someone who you know would have no issue in giving you an heir.”

If only Samantha wasn’t so fucking annoying.

She leans back in the chair. “You make time for these dates.”

Out of obligation. But, he won’t say that. “Yeah, but I can get my nut and send your ass packing in the same night. Can't do that if we're out of the fucking country.”

“You’re suck a di—”

“I’m so sorry.”

Soft. It’s the first thing that comes to mind hearing her voice. Light, almost. Kind. Even with just three words being spoken. And that’s just based off audio. Visually, Roman’s thoughts take an entirely different direction.

Stunning. 

Roman’s seen, entertained, and done a lot more with some beautiful women in his time, but the one standing at their table seems to have something more than all of them put together. She’s beautiful, easily one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever laid eyes on. And her smile, small but genuine makes him pause. As does her body.

She’s wearing the same uniform he’s noticed on the other waitresses, but none of them fill them out like she does. The white, long sleeved shirt that’s tucked into the knee length black pencil skirt can’t hide the curves he can practically see through the bland outfit. Nice, heavy breast. Curvy hips, thick thighs and an ass he can partially see from the front. 

This. This is his preferred body type. A woman who has something he can grab onto when he’s fucking her from behind. And Roman can only imagine what it would be like to be holding onto those luscious hips of hers while he—

“Oh my god, are you stupid?” Samantha’s annoying voice once again pulls him from his carnal fantasies. She gestures between herself and him. “Can you not see we’re in the middle of something?”

The girl, who Roman would guess is in her late twenties, early thirties at most, immediately looks repentant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I was just going to apologize for your wa—”

“Whatever.” Samantha lifts her hand, silencing the girl who’s now looking down at her shoes, clearly embarrassed. “What’s the special for this evening?”

“What’s your name?” Roman’s question comes out at the same time as Samantha’s inquiry. However, his voice clearly presents with more of a commanding nature. 

She swallows. “S–Solana.”

Pretty. Just like her. 

Samantha notices the way Roman is looking at her and is fully confused as to why he’s asking this fat troll for her name. She cuts in again, in that same nasty tone. “Hello? I asked you a question.” 

Solana is clearly struggling with Samantha’s aggressiveness, Roman wondering why this bitch is directing whatever unresolved feelings she has onto this innocent girl. “Umm, I think—”

Samantha scoffs, nose turned up. “You’re our waitress, and you don’t even know what the evening special is?”

“No ma’am, I do. I’m sorry. It’s just—it’s been a long day.” There’s a weight to her words, a sadness in her voice and in her pretty brown eyes. Roman notices all of these things and finds himself wondering what the story is. Everyone has one, and hers is suddenly of interest to him. For reasons he cannot understand. 

“Pretty unprofessional to bring up your personal life, don’t you think?”

Solana closes her eyes, pausing before answering. She looks exhausted. Mentally and physically. “It’s Squab. That’s the main co—”

“I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat meat.” Roman rolls his eyes. This hoe has been saying that since they were in high school, yet every so often she goes back to having a normal fucking diet only to switch back to that salad shit. “What’s on your—”

“I’ll do us both a favor and get her to shut the fuck up.” Roman has had enough, both of Samantha’s grating voice but mostly her being a bitch to this girl for no reason. He’s a dick on the regular. He knows this. But, never has he come across someone like this Solana woman who, with just her presence alone, exudes such softness. Like, she doesn’t have a mean bone in her fine ass body. And she clearly doesn’t because anyone else would have probably lost their job by cussing Samantha out. Not that it wouldn’t be deserved.

Roman catches the faintest hint of a smile on Solana’s face as she redirects her attention to him. “Give her the salmon. I’ll take your best steak. For wine, you carry Madeira?” 

She’s pulled out her notepad and finishes taking down the order before answering with a nod. “Yes, sir.”

Roman’s jaw clenches at that sir bit. He could ruin this girl. “What do you recommend?”

She’s visibly taken back by his question, probably by the fact that he’s asking her for her opinion. “Umm—”

“Roman, I can rec—”

“I didn’t ask you,” he cuts that bitch off with the quickness, eyes never leaving the pretty girl before him. “I asked Solana.”

Her smiles widens as she answers in a more confident tone. “Julio Barros…..1950.”

Roman smirks. 

Exactly what he was going to order.

“I’ll take it.”

Their gazes linger on each other a second too long for Samantha’s liking as she cuts in once once more. “You can go now.”

Solana’s smile drops again, Roman suddenly finding himself all annoyed. Her smile is something pretty that he wouldn’t mind seeing more of, though that irritation is waned as he’s granted the view of her nice, round ass and curvy hips swaying as she walks to the back to turn in their order.

Samantha reaches over and touches his hand, Roman snatching it back and sneering at her. “What?”

She sighs. “Baby, I’m trying to talk about us.”

And just like that, he’s annoyed all over again. “There is no us.”

Samantha looks sad only for a brief second. “Roman, I’m not stupid. I know what these dates have been for. You’re trying to see if it could work.”

“If what could work?”

“Us.” She goes on to share. “There’s rumors that the Elders have been putting more pressure on you to settle down and make an heir.” Sam leans over the table, intentionally trying to emphasize her cleavage. It’s nice. He’ll give her that. But, he’s certain it’s nothing compared to Solana though and those big breast of her hers. “I can do that for you. Be that for you. Be your wife. The mother of your children.”

Not a damn thing she’s saying sounds even the least bit desirable. At all. 

“I mean, we’ve been fucking around since we were kids. Why not make it official?”

For a lot of reasons. All the reasons. The main one being Roman don’t like this bitch unless she’s choking on or riding his dick. 

What he does like, however, and finds solace in is the interactions with Ms. Solana as the evening goes on. They’re not very often outside of her bringing the bottle of wine and their food when it’s ready as well as a check-in here or there on how they’re doing.

Each time Samantha sending her the dirtiest look or just being an ol’e nasty bitch, to which Roman shuts down, cutting her off and even telling her to shut the fuck up.

The girl is just trying to do her damn job. And as his eyes locate and land on her on several different occasions, he can see that she works hard. Moving from table to table, almost saddened facial expression indicates she’s on the receiving end of more verbal lashings from people like Samantha.

That actually pisses him off, Roman having to control and stop himself from doing some out of pocket shit. 

Again, for what reason, he hasn’t the slightest clue. He just knows those brief glimpses of her actually smiling, usually when she’s chatting with a coworker, do something for him. 

Maybe even to him. 

And unbeknownst to him, the intrigue goes both ways, because as shitty a day Solana Miller was having, the handsome stranger with the rude girlfriend or wife or whatever has somehow, someway made this day just a little bit better.

It’s been some time, if ever, Solana has come across someone with such a presence about them. Him dining at this uppity restaurant she was able to score a job at tells her that he’s wealthy. His disposition and the fact that he somehow secured it to where the surrounding tables of where he sits have been marked as unavailable tells her that he has pull. But, the way he interacts with her, a literal nobody, she’s not sure what that means.

Especially with the beautiful woman he’s with, because while Solana thinks she’s every bit a bitch as most of the women who come into this place, she’s a stunning bitch. 

Which is why Solana can’t allow herself to believe that that equally beautiful looking man is looking at her in any sort of capacity. 

There’s no way in he—

“Solana.”

And just like that, she's frowning again. “Mami?”

The last thing she expected to see this evening was the sight of her mother, already dressed in her scrubs, baby in her arms. 

Solana’s baby. 

Her 11-month–old daughter, Soraya. 

The shock wears off as Nina gets closer, Solana shaking her head, “what are you—”

Nina shakes her head, face apologetic and tone contrite. “I’m so sorry, baby, but I got called into work. I can’t watch Raya.”

Shit

It's inconvenient, but Solana understands it. She remembers the countless times Nina had no other option but to leave her with a neighbor after being called into work at all kinds of hours. She’s always worked so hard to take care of the two of them when Solana was growing up. 

“It’s okay, mama.” Solana easily reaches for her daughter, a wave of relief and happiness washing over her as she holds and kisses her baby. The source of all her joy. All of the struggle, every bit of it, is worth it as long as she has her daughter. She’d do anything for her. “How was she?”

Nina gives a small chuckle. “She’s like you were and still are. An easy child.” Solana kisses Soraya’s temple. “Sol…..” And just like that, Solana already knows she’s probably not going to like what she’s about to hear. “I know you’ve said you don’t want to go after him for child support, but it’s not fair for you to be out here working two jobs while putting yourself through school to take care of his child.”

Solana holds Soraya just a smidge tighter. “She’s my baby, mami.” 

Nina counters. “She’s his biological child.” Solana looks away, hopeful her manager, Aldis, doesn’t come out and scold her for this little interaction. She’s scheduled to clock out in another half hour anyway. “He should be paying you child support.”

Her mom is right. Solana knows this, knows that it’s not fair for her to have to be the sole provider for her baby girl, while Cruz lives his best life as an absentee, deadbeat dad. And she’s considered on several occasions going to the courthouse to see what she needs to do to get that ball rolling. 

But, every time, she’s haunted by something he said the last time they spoke, not even a month after her daughter was born. 

“Don’t you get it? We were fine before she came in the picture! We could be fine again if she wasn’t.”

Solana’s never been more disturbed than she was to hear those words leave his mouth. That’s why she’s glad he’s gone, that he wants nothing to do with her or his child. Because she would never trust to leave her baby girl with him in the first place.

And if that means she does it without him contributing financially, that’s exactly what she’ll do. 

Solana shifts Soraya from one hip to the other. “I don’t need him, mami.” And she doesn’t. Because if Solana had to resort to sex work to take care of herself and her daughter, it’s exactly what she’d do.

Nina gives a heavy sigh. “Mija, you know I help you when I can.”

“I know.” Because she does. But, the same way that times are hard for her. They’re hard for her mom, too. Everyone’s struggling these days, it seems. Everyone except the rich people who wine and dine without a care in the world around them. “I’ll be okay.”

Always will be.

Nina gives a knowing nod, hugging her daughter and gently taking her granddaughter’s hand, kissing it, speaking in Spanish. “I’ll see you later, okay? Abuela loves you.”

Solana smiles. “Thanks, mama.”

“Always, baby.” 

Nina reaches Solana the diaper bag, Solana placing it on the bar stool, knowing it’s bound to be left alone. These rich ass people would never bother with the Ross purchase. With a final parting smile, Nina is off to the hospital, leaving Solana with her daughter who’s just now waking up.

“Hi, baby girl,” Solana giggles at the almost cranky expression on her baby’s face. Raya is definitely not the happiest camper when being woken up. 

A glance at the time reminds Solana that she technically is still on the clock and really shouldn’t have her child with her. But, with no other option, she accepts she’ll just have to clock out early and take whatever those consequences are.

But before that, the least she can do is grab the bill from the table where the handsome stranger and his girlfriend sat. She’s briefly disappointed to see the table empty, even if she remembers his deep voice thanking her for her assistance this evening as she brought them that same check earlier. 

It’s a silly thing, really. And she tries to push away the disappointment at not properly telling him goodbye. A stranger. 

Silly.

Soraya grasps at the collar of her shirt while Solana walks over to the table, pausing as she gets close enough to see that there’s more than just a bill with a signature. There’s cash. A stack of it. Money in hand, she’s confused, because this man paid with a black card, so what—

“Good.” 

Solana gaps and spins around, her eyes widening as she looks up. He’s a lot taller than she realized, burly body nearly eclipsing her view of anything else, silky black hair in such a neat, perfect bun. “Wanted to make sure you got it.”

Brows furrowed, it’s hard for her to speak for a lot of reasons. One of which is the fact that this man cannot be real. A man cannot be this handsome. But, he is real, and he’s looking at her.

And Soraya. 

“I—” She shakes her head, clearing her throat. “Is this—you already paid—”

“That’s not for the bill,” his voice is so velvety, smooth, and deep. “It’s your tip.”

Eyes widening, her gaze snaps to the wad of cash as Soraya continues to grasp and squeeze her shirt. She doesn’t even need to count to know that this is a nice amount of money. 

Too much.

“I can’t—it’s too much.” 

He chuckles, “do I look like I can’t afford it?” Her eyes roam over his big, muscular build dressed in fine, expensive looking clothes. He just oozes wealth. 

And power. 

“N–no.”

“Dealing with Samantha, trust me, you earned it.” Solana looks down, wanting to hide her small smile. His gaze redirects to the child in her arm. “Who is this?”

And just like that, Solana’s proud smile returns. “My daughter, Soraya.” It’s like Soraya knows she’s being discussed, lifting her little head to look at Roman. A big grin on her face before she buries her face into Solana’s neck. 

Roman makes a sound, and she can almost swear she sees the smallest smile on his handsome face. “She looks like you.”

That creates such a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach, “thank you…..”

He looks at her a bit confused, like her unspoken question surprises him, before answering. “Roman.” Roman. “Roman Reigns.”

Roman Reigns. Even his name is powerful.

It fits him.

Solana shifts Soraya around as she starts to get wiggly in her arms. “Well, thank you, Mr. Reigns.” She’s certain the shock of just how much money this random, rich stranger has given her hasn’t truly set in. Because if it had, she’d have a much more visceral response. 

A lot more.

“Roman,” he corrects. “Call me Roman.” 

“Roman….” 

Something indecipherable flashes in his eyes, something that makes her feel a bit unnerved under his intense stare. It’s broken, however, by her now irritated daughter.

“Mama.” Soraya makes her dissatisfaction at being still for too long known by punching her tiny fist against Solana’s chest. “Mama!”

“Shhhhh,” Solana kisses her temple, trying to quiet her down before someone makes Aldis aware of her presence. She looks at Roman, eyes softening, “thank you again.”

Truly. Honestly. He hasn’t the slightest clue how much this will help her. It’s why she can stand here without anxiety and concern about making it to the bus stop on time. Tonight.....tonight she’ll treat herself and her baby with calling an Uber instead. 

Might even stop and pick up dinner.

Roman nods, eyes briefly glancing at her daughter again, the smallest smile on his face. “I’ll see you later, Solana.” His head dips a bit in acknowledgment towards her baby. “Soraya.”

The smile is plastered on her face even as he walks off without another word. And it’s only a good two minutes later that she catches onto what he said. A certain word in particular standing out the most. 

What did he mean by later?

[stevie-petey]

hi!! can we get a cute fluffy stug blurb to deal with all the angst? your writing is genuinely so incredible i get scared to read a new chapter bc i don’t want to see them suffer but your writing is so so so good it just draws me in completely. I hope you’re proud of come home bc it’s INCREDIBLE i don’t think i’ve read anything related to steve that i love more. and the blurbs?? what else could we ask for omg you’re giving us EVERYTHING

hi dear !! i was savin a fluffy request for when we needed one, and i think after these last few days ,,,, some cute bickering between robin, steve, dustin, and bug is needed.

enjoy <3

"your boyfriends late."

"the bell rang like, five seconds ago."

"hes still late."

robin rolls her eyes at dustin while you shove him off the curb. he yelps in surprise and you snicker. "watch your step, dusty."

"do not call me that." he glares at you, straightening his hat. hes shot up at least three inches since this summer and soon he'll be your height and not so easy to shove onto the street.

"children, please." robin sighs exhaustedly. "i have a four hour shift ahead of me. can we save the arguing for later?"

"she started it!" dustin exclaims, pointing an accusatory finger at you while you point at him and shout, "he started it!"

a car pulls up behind the two of you. "whatever youre arguing about, im on y/n's side."

steve pokes his head out through his rolled down window. hes wearing his stupidly cheesy raybands that youve come to adore. smiling at you, he sends you an air kiss. "miss me?"

dustin thwacks the teens nose, eliciting a very unattractive screech to fall from steves lips. "never do that again."

your brother then gets into the back of the car while you and robin giggle hysterically. she has to clutch onto your arm to avoid toppling over in her laughter. youre no better yourself, snorting with every quick inhale of breath.

"tha' wasn' funny," steve holds his nose while he tilts his head back. hes worried the shithead gave him a bloody nose, but all you and robin can focus on is how nasally his voice is now.

the two of you laugh even harder, and all steve can do is flick you off and pout.

"you guys are assholes." he grumbles, finally starting the car after you and robin collect yourselves.

"im sorry, honey." you press a soft, gentle kiss to the tip of steves nose. "is that better?"

of course your kiss made steve feel infinitely better. but he isnt an idiot. hes aware of the audience in his car. theres no way hes giving dustin and robin even more ammunition against him.

"not answerin' that."

dustin snorts. "oh, so now hes smart not to flirt with you in front of me."

"why are you even in my car?"

"why are you even dating my sister?"

robin raises her hand. "i have an even better question: why am i being driven to my shift that starts in five minutes?"

"thats a great question, robin." your body turns to the one next to you. "steve, care to answer?"

steve waves a sarcastic hand at you, but he pulls out of the school parking lot anyways. you, robin, and dustin cheer. though steves eyebrows are knit in annoyance, you know hes secretly elated as well. its rare to have a day at family video with you and dustin alongside him and robin.

with your shifts at the bookstore and dustins growing fascination with eddie, its nice to just have some time with one another. family video always feels bleaker without the hendersons.

"alright, what has horny heather selected this week?" dustin makes himself at him behind the video counter. long having memorized the systems password, he easily logs into the stores rental catalogue.

horny heather is the name youve given one of family videos most frequent customers. shes an older women with a bizarre fixation for movies with attractive male leads. it wouldnt be so bizarre if it werent for the fact that she regularly rewinds to every single shirtless scene the movies contains.

and every nude scene.

sometimes you hate how much family video knows about its customers.

you plop down next to dustin. "my money is on anything with tom cruise. she seems to have a thing for brunettes."

"and who can blame her?" steve flicks his hair out of his face. "we're obviously the best."

robin throws her jacket at him. "stop drooling over yourself. its unbecoming for a young man."

"dude, you sound like my mom."

"jokes on you. your mom is totally a babe," robin bats her eyelashes at him. "im taking that as a compliment."

steve blanches at this, completely disgusted and offended. he looks at you incredulously. "you hearing this? she just called my mom a babe. thats-thats just so wrong-"

"your mom is pretty hot." you shrug at steve. "sorry, honey. im on robins side."

robin high fives you, snickering in victory. steves jaw drops in pure astonishment. hes speechless. he cant believe youd betray him like this. he cant believe you think his own mother is hot.

dustin looks at the scene before him and shakes his head. you guys are being totally immature. "cmon, guys. thats just wrong."

steve waves his arms out at the kid. "see? thank you, little henderson. god, i cant believe youre the only one here with any sense left-"

"of course, buddy!" dustin smiles wickedly at him. "its silly for y/n and robin to call your mom hot. we all know its really your dad is way hotter."

"what-?" steve gasps for air.

"his broodiness is hot, isnt it?" you grab dustins arm excitedly. "i mean, hes just so stoic. so stern."

robin pretends to faint. "its so... manly."

steve goes to the corner and screams.

which just so happens to be the same corner a poor, old woman is browsing in.

he ends up getting hit with her cane.

its a good day.

[ar-cadez]

Negaverse Megavolt concept!

Design notes and personality rant stuff under the cut. Warning. It's long and unreadable.

The purse thing is a generator (Ill probably design it as a prop at some point considering It does NOT look like one but portable generators are hard for me to draw for some reason)

I swapped which eye has the white in it (even though I usually draw it on the wrong side anyway bc idk my lefts from rights..)

I wanted to make the darks very prominent bc the yellows are very prominent in the original

I went with blues bc it's the only other colour usually associated with lightning and electricity.

The teal parts of his outfit are lights! They glow when he's fully charged and fade out when he's out of power.

You can't see it in this pose but his hands have outlets on the back that work the same as megavolt's chest outlet. He can power weapons with them and charge himself without the pain of straight up shocking himself

I wanted to make his hair look like it's thinning out bc of age and repeated electrical damage but I wasn't sure how to do that so it's not really present. Did give him some white hair though.

His glasses are prescription! Can't see nothin without em..

Okay now some personality stuff!

Megavolt is the hardest villain to swap bc his personality is "insane guy with memory issues but is smart" and it's kinda hard to flip that around without just making him boring? Removing his intelligence when it comes to electricity would also negate his whole gimmick which makes things worse. but I do have a few ideas. It's ironic I struggle with him so much considering he's literally my favourite character...

He was popular in high school. He was friends with negaduck and they were both pretty well liked jock types before negaduck started doing major crimes (though I imagine he was always a delinquent of sorts. Just didn't start destroying the city till he graduated) clash reunion is a whole beast on it's own bc megavolt has the most in depth backstory which means a lot of reworking for a personality swap au.

His interests, like dw's megavolt, lie in magnesium, electronics, and engineering. The difference is, despite being Intruiged by these subjects, he didn't go out of his way to learn about the. He was more focused on his peers approval back then. Not to mention the fact that negaduck was an extremely toxic friend and would absolutely make fun of him constantly for it. (He doesn't even actually care, he's just an asshole.)

Eventually after gaining his abilities he began to study electricity and start inventing things. Only.. He's pretty bad at it. Things tend to backfire on him. Quackerjack has a lot more experience than him when it comes to engineering and he tries to help him out but the guy's kinda cursed. I haven't really decided if it's more dt17 gyro where everything he makes ends up turning against him or guy am I from the Netflix green eggs and ham show where everything he makes just kinda explodes. Maybe a bit of both. Either way it's very over the top and is more trouble than it's worth, but that doesn't stop him! (Oh God someone stop him)

I didn't wanna just take away his mental issues completely because the opposite of that is literally nothing. It adds.. Nothing. It just gives him less to work with. And it's already hard enough to do this guy. (Plus it kinda implies mentally ill people can't be heroes and that's.. Mm....) So instead I decided to change how he reacts to it.

He still has memory issues along with other physical and mental symptoms of electrical injury, he just really likes to pretend he doesn't. He completely ignores his deteriorating mental, physical, and emotional health <33

I wanna flesh him out more but I'd only be able to do that if I write with him and I'm fantastic at procrastinating my writing projects <33

[zettaireido-emotion]

Camus character analysis: games VS anime

If you finished the Uta no Prince-sama anime and your opinion of this man is "wow, he's kinda terrible," I don't blame you. in fact I've seen a lot of people say this

In this post, I want to talk about his characterization in the games and give my two cents on what the anime was trying to do with him, especially in his single focus episode Saintly Territory (S3E6).

Disclaimer: I wrote this on a whim because I'm sick and stuck at home so if anyone reads this, sorry I might go all over the place

Spoilers for all of the games!

The "be my slave" thing

Starting with Anime Camus's most egregious crime: treating Haruka like a servant/slave (however you want to translate it)

Basically in his focus episode, Haruka is tasked with writing a song for Camus. She wants to learn more about him in order to write it, but Camus will only let her follow him if she acts as his servant. She accepts without complaining, Cecil is rightfully angry, Haruka continues anyway and the song gets completed.

Now, am I about to say that Game Camus would never do this? No because he literally does lmao.

The anime doesn't pull this "servant" plotline out of nowhere, here's the context in his route:

Haruka accidentally overhears Camus talking about a plot to assassinate Saotome on the phone. When he notices that she heard everything, he basically tells her that he has to kill her now. But if she served him, he'd be able to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't leak anything, so she could escape death.

Okay uh "work under me or DIE" isn't exactly better, nor is it a good start to a love story, but I'm not finished!!

(A side note: I have to add that the anime made him look like an even bigger asshole and borderline dumb when it came to the things he made her do. Like he expected her to know that snapping your fingers means you want coffee without prior explanation. bro

^This might have been for comedic effect but I promise he can be actually funny and endearing.)

What the anime couldn't cover

The Camus episode wraps up with Haruka pulling through and writing a song that makes Camus "sincere," he says it's cool at the very end and that's the episode. I think the problem is that we technically didn't see him being sincere or what that even means to him, besides when he was singing (banger song btw)

It's a shame because in a 20-minute episode you really can't show the game experience of slowly piecing together what this man's problem is.

First of all, in Debut and AS you'll be quick to notice that he always has homeland and duty on the mind, constantly reminding himself that he's in Shining Agency/Japan for a reason, and it's NOT to have fun or make friends

The truth is, he slowly starts to appreciate the banter with his colleagues, music, and working there in general.

But because of his initial mindset, he has to rationalize & justify every connection he forms, like "it's just for work" or worse: "actually it was ALL A LIE and I NEVER ENJOYED A SECOND OF THE TIME WE SPENT TOGETHER, I'm such a great actor haha"

He uses that to fool himself and to push the other person away so it doesn't happen again. This scene is probably the best example:

(I'll be using google lens because it's faster but I checked that the tls were okay)

He also does this in the Non-Fiction drama, which may or may not have actually happened, but I think it's still a pretty good reflection of what could happen in reality because he tells Ranmaru their bond was a lie, then mopes around in his guilt thinking about the good times and wondering why he's sad, and THEN later doubles down on the "it was a lie, I don't care about you" because he just can't let himself get attached to anything.

Basically, he's terrified at the thought of forming actual bonds because he genuinely thinks he's nothing if he stops being a cold weapon:

At one point he does admit he sucks (as a love interest)-

-which is pretty huge by utapri standards. I love these games, but the amount of times where a male lead does something icky, and everyone, including Haruka, acts like it's normal or like it's Haruka's fault is ehhh but I digress

Upbringing

Of course he's very proud of his homeland and status, but sometimes it's to the point of thinking he can't be anything other than his title. So why is he like this?

We got to hear about his childhood from Camus himself a few times, and it often ended with Haruka thinking "wait? that's kinda messed up?" and Camus insisting it's nothing/it's normal so yeah that's something...

His parents were in an unhappy arranged marriage, and his mother was forced to birth an heir which traumatized her so much that she can't see Camus without falling ill. Overall it's a pretty tragic situation since what happened to her was horrible, though not Camus's fault either. Even now she refuses to see him, and I wouldn't say that makes him sad because he never really met her, but simply knowing of her sacrifice probably adds a lot of pressure. As in, he only exists for this one purpose (inheriting his father's title and serving the country), so if he doesn't play his part correctly, it would have all been for nothing.

He was raised by his father not as a child or son but as the heir, always treated and judged as an adult (even during physical training apparently, make of that what you will)

When Haruka asks about childhood memories he has a very hard time finding something that doesn't have to do with his duties or the nation. And then admits he didn't truly have a "childhood" since he was never treated like a child

As for the queen, I think his love for her is sincere: she taught him a lot of things growing up, and according to him, she's also a victim trapped by her duties so he wants to ease the burden.

So hypothetically, if he found things or people that made him happy in Japan, he would feel obligated to lock them away because that happiness is incompatible with his life: he'll have to leave when his mission ends, he shouldn't be spending time on things that aren't "useful" as he doesn't have the free will to pursue them

In his mind he's completely tied down by the fact that he was born and raised for a single reason, and the fact that he does want to serve the queen.

(This is Saotome describing him btw)

Also it might sound ridiculous to bring his self-worth into question because of how pretentious he is, but I've counted a few situations where he seemed to have complete disregard for his own life, only worrying about Haruka and Cecil's safety in scenes when they were present. And he thinks wanting to be loved unconditionally is a childish thought he shouldn't have.

"Double Face" was a lie. There's like at least 10 layers

On the surface he does have two personas, his perfect polite butler act for the media, and his cold bitchy attitude off camera. But honestly, even when he's not acting as a butler, he's often putting up a front to hide any form of vulnerability (from himself as well)

His main struggle is finding who he is outside of what he's being told to do. Before, he never actually stopped to think about what he WANTS because it just never occurs to him, or if it does he ignores it.

That's why realizing that he has his own desires is essential to his character development, and him staying with Quartet Night (and Haruka in his routes) is so important. It's why Reiji feels the need to reach out and when he does, Camus either freezes up or tears up;

This all makes him the opposite of Ranmaru (being true to yourself and sincere), and similar to Ai (gradually learning to view the world in a less cold and logical way), but I kind of want to save that for another post lmao

He is especially hard on Cecil because Cecil says & does whatever he wants, and everything still works out for him, which is a way of life that Camus can't imagine for himself at all (despite maybe wanting it?)

That he can realize this and eventually admit out loud, despite all his pride, is also one of my favorite things about him

Season 2 does hint at something, so that's pretty cool!

Side note, I really love that his theme in the new Oracle series is "Change," the melting of ice.

So what was the anime supposed to do??

Of course there's no way to show all this in a single episode or even during the runtime of the anime, and I never expected them to because the story is very surface-level (that goes for all characters).

It's just unfortunate since the anime is the most accessible and well-known utapri media in the western fandom, and the character's main episode is bound to leave the biggest impression.

I understand the choice of being laser-focused on the servant plotline, it's supposed to be funny (?) and waters him down to a trope that's easy to understand at first glance (the step-on-me guy I guess)

Still, I can't help but compare it to Ranmaru's episode, who was also hard to work with in the games but was chill in S3E7 and got to pet cats. Anime onlys will never know how much Camus loves to dote on his dog smh.....

[tinybeetiny]

Aren’t You Embarrassed Part 4: P.S

NonIdol!Toxic!Fratboy!SeonghwaxAfab!ReaderxNonIdol!Fratboy!Jongho love whatever you can call it triangle….

Taglist: @n1nme4r @e3ellie

Sorry this took so long, I've been feeling a little stuck these days. Ugh I have a plan for the next few parts… but I’m glad Jongho got his lick back because… as he should!

Cw: explicit language, toxic everything

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

“Jongho wait! Please!” You called out, trying to chase the boy as he stomps out of the Library. Luckily the door was a pull not a push which slowed him down just enough for you to catch up “Jongho please.” You begged, grabbing his arm. Your heart clenches when he rips it out of your hold “No. What the actually fuck was that huh? You said you were over him, completely” his voice was loud and thankfully you both were out of the library or else you would’ve gotten the scolding of a lifetime “I am I swear. He caught me at a bad time and I wasn’t thinking straight please.” Jongho really didn’t know what to say. Yeah he expected it from Seonghwa but from you, absolutely not. He thought that you were 100000% over Seonghwa. He would watch as you two walked around campus hand and hand noticing the dark glare from the older man but you never even noticed, never batted an eye, too engrossed in the person you were with. Maybe that’s why Jongho felt immense anger with your words, his eye twitching slightly “Caught you at a bad time? What? Waiting for me?”

He really could not believe what he was hearing. If all you needed was a distraction he was fine with that in fact he was the one who offered. Things only started to change when you wanted more. The little dates, the hand holding, the late night phone calls, everything you initiated. So he was genuinely confused with the events that unfolded just a few minutes ago “No please I didn’t mean it like that” you were on the verge of tears and you can only imagine how you looked right now following Jongho like a sad puppy trying to get him to listen “Then how did you mean it because the way I’m taking it is while you were waiting for me to show up to our study date you let Seonghwa finger you in the nonfiction section AFTER you tell me you have all these big feelings for me so tell me (y/n) how did you mean it?” Jongho spun around to face you stopping you in your tracks. He was mad, no more like furious and a little embarrassed. He really didn’t talk to people or even date for that matter but there was something about you that was different, or so he thought.

You open your mouth to explain but no words come out and you’re stuck opening and closing your mouth like a fish. He lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head “You know what. Just forget it. Forget all of this and just leave me the fuck alone” You feel your heart break when he turns and stomps off leaving you in the middle of the side walk with tears streaming down your face. Seonghwa stands at the front of the doors to library, a smug smile on his face as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. It’s only a matter of time before you unblock his number and crawl back into his bed. He feels no remorse, no sympathy just a little victory. He had you first and no matter how hard you try and convince yourself otherwise, he will always have some sort of hold over you. His smile only seemed to grow more when he watches Jongho storm off and more tears run down your cheeks.

You tried, you really did but no matter how many times you reached out Jongho would never answer. You tried to approach him on campus but as soon as you got close he would disappear. You couldn’t just show up to his place and risk running into Seonghwa again, that’s the last thing you wanted but you needed to talk to him, to make things right if he let you. You like Jongho, you genuinely do. He makes you feel great in AND out of the bedroom and you’d be damned if you were going to let some arrogant asshole ruin things. So that’s how you found yourself walking up to that stupid frat house, knocking on the door and praying Seonghwa was not the one who answered. Luckily San was the one to open the door who is very surprised at your presence “Oh! Hey (y/n). Um Seonghwa isn’t here right now” he said awkwardly scratching the back of his neck “Oh no, I’m not here to see him. I was wondering if Jongho was here?” Your hands clasp behind your back as you sway anxiously. His eyebrows raise and his eyes widen slightly “Jongho? Oh! He’s in his room. BUT HE HAS SOMEONE oh nevermind” as soon as you heard he was in his room you pushed past San and ran up the stairs too focused to hear what he was yelling about.

You were determined to talk things through with Jongho one way or another but when you opened his door all hope flew out of the window. There he lay very comfortably with some girl that was in your communications, whom you didn’t care enough to get to know, bouncing like a bunny in heat. He looked over when he heard the door open only to see your shocked expression “Are you going to stand there and watch like a weirdo or are you going to leave?” Your expression morphed into hurt as you spun to leave “Hey (y/n)” you paused when he called out to you feeling the tiniest bit of hope “Can you close the door when you leave? Thanks” you slam the door shut behind you and rush down the stairs needing to leave this scummy house. But can you really be that upset? Do you have the right? You knew Jongho was upset but you still hoped he’d be willing to talk at least.

San watched you practically float down the stairs and Mingi perked up from his spot on the couch. He knew, everyone knew. It wasn’t Jongho who told them, no no the boy was too private to tell them about his situationships. Oh no this was Seonghwa and his big cocky mouth. The boys knew you and Jongho were seeing each other but weren’t really surprised when Seonghwa bragged about the library incident figuring you were back under his spell again. So when Jongho brought the other girl over they didn’t bat an eye “Yo (y/n) what are you doing here? Hwa’s not here so are you trying to get with another frat member?” Mingi teased. You didn’t even process his words as you sprinted out of the front door just wanting to be in the comfort of your own dorm but it seems the universe wanted to punish you even more. Tears blurred your vision so you didn’t see figure approaching “Woah sweetheart what’s the rush” hands hold your arms trying to stabilize you. You blinked a few times to get rid of the tears out of your eyes and when your vision cleared Seonghwa’s dark eyes were staring back at you. You sniffle not having the energy to push him off “Aww poor baby.” He taunts before pulling you against his body, wrapping his arms around you “Why don’t you come back inside and I can help you feel better yeah?”

[ray-winters]

I am about to get a lil sappy here, but…I remember when I was in middle school, I was in private Catholic schooling, and I was dealing with the fact that I knew I was gay. I knew this was “wrong” because that’s what I was taught, so I suppressed it and tried so hard not to be. I told myself I’d do what my uncle did, which was push it down, marry a woman, and have kids like I was “supposed” to.

I remember specifically one day, I was home alone, and I knew I couldn’t keep it in for much longer. Jurassic Park was on my TV (weird detail to remember but I do) and I was sobbing on the couch pleading to God to just make it go away, and to make me straight. I didn’t even care if it made me an asshole and changed my personality I just wanted to be straight. I remember thinking it’d be easier to straight up just die than to live the rest of my life this way. Keep in mind this was around 2007-2008, gay marriage wasn’t even close to a reality, I had no positive gay rep that I knew of on TV or in movies, and again, private Catholic school so I was surrounded by homophobia. I didn’t come out for about 3 more years from this point.

I give this depressing backstory so that I can say-

I just woke up next to my husband, he is in the kitchen making us coffee, we have been together for 10 years, happily married for 1.5, and our only plans today are to play video games and then go do a performance of SCREAM’D together. I truly don’t think I’ve ever felt more fulfilled in who I am or what I’m doing in life. I have a great group of friends around me, I feel love & support from people from all across the world. I have truly made a genuine effort to create and portray queer characters almost exclusively and hopefully in doing so given people some representation that maybe they’re searching for. I’m 29 now, and if I could go back and tell 15 year old Ray that everything was gonna work out in its own way and in its own time, I would.

I know it’s cliche, but it does get better. It just takes time. And sometimes, you’ve got to make it better yourself. If you’re struggling, if you’re in a religious school, if you’re in a conservative area, I just want you to know that I know it’s tough rn to keep the faith; but it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. It might just take a little bit of time. Find likeminded people, whether it’s irl or on the internet, there’s a community of people for everyone. There is a world of love & acceptance out there for you, you’ll find it 💙

[loullaby]

me again: it also comes off just mean. like he goes out of his way to signal to everybody that he is not fond of Buck/Tommy or Lou at all. And I remember how, as you said, everybody cut Oliver a lot of slack for not posting, liking or talking about anything Tommy or Lou related and some even accused people of being toxic Buddie shippers who just want to cause discourse but just...no. He literally posted pictures of himself on set, in scenes he had with Lou without Lou in them (i.e. coffee date, funeral scene) and then he claims "there are pictures of everyone".

And these post episode interviews should leave no doubt. He says outright he wanted Tim to make Buck single again and with it Tommy/Lou out of the show. Maybe he hopes for a more famous LI now that they are on ABC I don´t know at this point. I just think Lou deserves better, he kept it classy throughout the hate, the death threats and a co-star who clearly did not want that storyline. So wherever we see him next I hope he´ll feel more welcomed. I for one am not looking for a season 9 of 911. I was bored before, only got back because of and with him gone, there really is no need to watch anymore.

Sorry for venting so much. There is just nobody else I could talk about it in RL

first of all, you can vent all you want. if you wanna dm me, i'm always open.

unless lou was secretly an asshole to oliver and oliver only, i really don't get his behavior at all. everyone else had nothing but good things to say about him. even oliver and lou talked about how well lou and ryan got along, so what's the deal? lou was classy even when he was clearly heartbroken. he made sure to include how much he appreciated oliver and tim, even though they clearly didn't appreciate him back.

they got the perfect LI for buck: first responder, connections to the 118, made him a priority. there was literally nothing wrong with tommy. he solved all their problems.

why break them up out of nowhere? they could've handled that so much better, made a plan that respected the characters and the actors, but all we got was biphobia. and for what? to set up for buddie sooner? something ryan made abundantly clear he doesn't want?

[seitmai]

Many thoughts...

Love at first sight, it was. But hell, love wasn’t enough, was it?  What did he know about raising a little girl?  What did he know of walking that tricky line between being overprotective and being too blasé, of giving you space but making you feel safe?

 just that he is questions this, shows how much he cares about her 🫶🏻

Cecilia had stopped over a lot in the beginning, had soothed his fears.  Had reassured him that love was enough, that he was doing a good job.  He was kind and well-meaning, and you had been a smart kid who became a smart woman, and on the balance, he would have agreed with Cecilia and said he did alright.

Awesome job right there👏🏻

For the first time in his life, Rhett truly considers his future.  What his life may look like in five, ten, twenty years.  Will he always wake to grey mornings that sit on his chest like a stone?  Will he become bitter and mean, the way his father has despite having a wife and sons and a granddaughter? 

Uff he truly doesn't have the best role model..

Then, on top of the annoyance, another layer of shame.  Of course you run.  The death of your parents left you with that wound, the inability to handle hurt in a healthy way.  You flee and tuck yourself in a corner, tend your wounds alone.  It’s a flaw, but it’s understandable why you do it.

Very understandable reaction especiallywith that backstory..

Rhett had been your best friend, and for the briefest summer, he was your lover too.  He should have been the one person to help you work through that fear.  Instead, he only cemented it further.

💔💔💔

It’s easy to blame Rhett when Wyatt eats dinner alone each night.  When he runs a vacuum over the floor of your bedroom, keeps it dust free like you may turn up any day and take your place back on the family ranch.  When he studies the row of family photos on the mantle, sees his sister’s face and feels like he’s failed her in the care of her daughter.

He misses her so much 🥺

But Wyatt doesn’t confront Rhett at the Double Deuces.  He doesn’t seek him out at all. Rhett comes to him.

👀

“You never fucking think, do you?  Jesus fucking Christ, my sister…her husband…they were killed by a fucking drunk driver, and you have the fucking balls to…you asshole…you fucking piece of shit.  You—” The kid seems to track Wyatt’s meaning.  His bleary eyes clear a fraction and fix on where Wyatt’s fists wait, eager to offer some payback for his sins.  Rhett nods, as if to himself, and he takes a deep breath.  Closes his eyes, opens them.  He struggles to stand, staggers a little, but eventually finds his feet.

Wyatts anger is very understandable and valid, but it seem to penetrate even Rhett’s drunken state

“Make it her.”  It comes out one slurred word, makeither, and Wyatt’s anger cools by the barest degree.  He unclenches his fists, holds them looser. “What the fuck you trying to say?” Rhett coughs, sways.  Coughs again, then enunciates, clarifies. “Make it hurt.  Make sh…sure.  Make sure it hurts.” Wyatt’s fists uncurl more.  “Now what are you—” “Am.  Piece of shit.  I am.”  The kid sways more but takes a wide step, braces his legs wide to keep himself upright.  “Y’right.  Imma piece a’shit.” He wants to be hurt because it’s the only thing he knows, he thinks.  Like I used to.

💔😭💔😭💔

Maybe Wyatt only fell into fatherhood because of a tragedy, but he gets more of it right than he will ever give himself credit for.  He faces the kid, and when the kid comes swinging at him again, spoiling for a beat-down Wyatt will never deliver after all, Wyatt only opens his arms and lets Rhett step into them.  The kid struggles for a beat but he’s drunk, and he seems tired down to his soul. It only takes a moment for the kid to stop struggling in Wyatt’s bear-hug, then sag against him in exhaustion, then weep in dry, barking sobs that feel like they’ve been building up for his entire life.  And Wyatt knows exactly what sort of pain the kid is bleeding out because it was his pain, and his sister’s too, until they both fled their unhappy childhood home and made a happier one here on this ranch.

Wyatt gives Rhett the hug he himself needed years ago 😭🥺

Wyatt is never sure the right way to tell you that Rhett Abbott is currently crashing with him.  A month passes and then another, and he starts to feel guilty that the kid who broke your heart has been living down the hall from your childhood bedroom, sitting at your kitchen table.  That he parks his truck beside yours, and that he’s caught the kid—more than once—lingering by your bedroom door, lingering by your truck, like your ghost might manifest if he stands still enough.

That's a tough spot..

I can’t be mad about it, you write back.  How many times did you look the other way when I brought a stray home? 

I guess you deserve a stray of your own.  Might want to take him in for his shots though. :-) 

You got a heart of gold, kiddo, Wyatt texts you, and your response is immediate.

That's so cute, they have such a beautiful relationship 🥰

Wyatt grins when he reads your email, then glances over at where Rhett is sitting on the couch, watching TV.  The kid does act like a stray; he cringes the barest bit if Wyatt moves too suddenly or too close to him, but like a stray, he relishes the comfort of a warm home, food in his belly, and even the tamest praise.

He really is a stray 🤭

Got it from my uncle.

🥹🥹🥹

Wyatt won’t know it until years from now, when he’s an old man and Rhett has grey in his own hair, but this stretch of time—the two men working and living together—is when Rhett starts to learn how to be a man.  That Wyatt is the gruff but kind, slightly awkward father-figure Rhett always needed.

I'm so glad Rhett gets the chance to experience this kind of relationship and space to grow 🥹

Heart of gold, indeed.  It makes Wyatt tear up, first from so much pride it feels like his chest might burst, then from that knife edge of grief that his sister isn’t here to see what a force for good her daughter turned into.

🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

“Nah.  I don’t know if hate is something she can even feel.  Dislike, maybe.  Disappointment.  Not hate.”  “She should hate me.  I deserve it.”

He is so hard on himself 🥺

“I didn’t mean to hurt her, you know.  Sounds fucking stupid, but at the time, I didn’t even realize what I was doing to her.”  Rhett glances over at the man, fixes his eyes back on the floor.  “Looking back, it felt like I was sleepwalking through that summer, and now I’m awake and see all the damage I did.” “Damned if I know.  But take it from me, kid.  I had a girl when I was your age, and I fucked it up completely.  Even once I realized how badly I fucked up, I was too proud to try and set it right.  Now it’s been years and it’s far too late.  So you gotta try, so even if she never forgives you, it’ll set right in your chest that you did everything you could.”

I love their honest and open conversations 🥰

Your uncle glances over at Rhett, nods in his direction.  “We’re doing okay for a couple of guys.”

They truly are 🫶🏻🥹

You laugh, and the sound makes Rhett smile – when was the last time he heard it?  It draws another laugh, which makes Rhett laugh, which makes you stop and ask your uncle if Rhett is there too. “He is,” Wyatt admits.  “We’re watching the football game.” There’s a beat of silence from you that seems to stretch out forever but is probably only a second or two. “Merry Christmas, Rhett,” you say, and Wyatt hesitates, then tilts the screen so Rhett can see you and you can see him.  He almost doesn’t want to look but he can’t help himself.

🥹🥹🥹

“In that case, Uncle Wyatt, work him into the ground,” you joke back, and Wyatt turns his phone back to him this time, and Rhett is left with perhaps a bit more than a sliver of hope.  He leans back on the couch and thinks that yes, maybe he can salvage this after all. Maybe trying his best will be enough.

I'm sure it will 🥹🫶🏻

I absolutely loved this story and the relationship Rhett and Wyatt built, truly beautiful 🥰

Kind of a Sh*thead

(Rhett Abbott x F!Reader)

CW:  Angst; family-type healing; allusions to and threat of violence; bit of fluff at the end.

Word Count: 5256

AN:  This was originally requested by @elegantmusicdragon from a long-ago Christmas prompt list: "trying to hide their sadness during the christmas celebration" from the sad christmas prompts? Definitely angst...maybe with a little hope at the end?"

AN: This is the next piece in the "Mending Fences" miniseries, found here.

It will shame Rhett in the future, how long it takes for him to realize what has happened. 

That night at the bar, he sat waiting for you:  nursing a beer, his eyes on the door, ready to get a little loose with you and maybe head out to the open range and fool around. 

Then Maria appeared in front of him.  Like magic.  Like an angel spirited back to Wabang and right in front of him.  It threw him off completely, his world tilting sideways  He found himself dazzled by the fact that the girl he pined over for years was suddenly in front of him, smiling, laughing, touching his arm and squeezing his bicep while he subtly flexed it under her fingers.

It wasn’t until last call that Rhett surfaced for a moment, the spell lifting for long enough to remember he was supposed to meet you, yet you were nowhere to be found.

She must have been held over late at work, he reasoned, and even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. 

It will shame Rhett in the future, but it will take months before he really feels that shame.  He’ll find out you left early for school, but by then, he will be entirely wrapped in the magic of Maria, dumb with lust and love that he thinks is finally reciprocated.  He'll send you a handful of texts, bland little things that you read but don’t respond to. 

Months later, when Wabang is sliding fast to a cold winter and Maria is gone again, disappeared as quickly as she appeared, Rhett will feel shame.

And you’ll be long gone.

*****

Wyatt wishes he knew what he was doing.  Hell, he’d be happy for an inkling.

When his sister and brother-in-law died, he didn’t even hesitate to step up and take his niece in.  No brainer.  Blood is blood, but Wyatt loved his sister something fierce, and taking you in was like holding on to a part of her even if she was gone. 

Didn’t hurt that Wyatt loved you for you.  That he had loved you from the first time his sister set you in his arms, a bundle only a few days old.  You’d set your wide eyes on him and blinked sleepily, then puked up a torrent of milk on him that reeked something fierce.

Love at first sight, it was.

But hell, love wasn’t enough, was it?  What did he know about raising a little girl?  What did he know of walking that tricky line between being overprotective and being too blasé, of giving you space but making you feel safe? 

Cecilia had stopped over a lot in the beginning, had soothed his fears.  Had reassured him that love was enough, that he was doing a good job.  He was kind and well-meaning, and you had been a smart kid who became a smart woman, and on the balance, he would have agreed with Cecilia and said he did alright.

Nothing about this feels alright, though.

Wyatt always guessed it was Rhett Abbott who left you stranded at that hotel when you were a senior in high school.  Little fucker skulked around that entire summer, scampered away like a cat with a lit tail when he saw Wyatt coming.  Something had happened between the two of you.

When you came back to Wabang finally, you took up with the little fucker again, and Wyatt thought maybe he had been unkind.  Ungenerous.  He tried to be nicer to Rhett, but the kid barely ever mets his eyeline.

What the hell, Wyatt thought.  The Abbotts can be a squirrelly bunch.  As long as he doesn’t hurt her.

All those years ago at the hotel, Wyatt was never sure who it was that left you stranded and tear-streaked.  This time, though?

You confirmed it that evening when you got home, eyes unseeing as you charged past him, thundered up the stairs, started packing.  When he confronted you, you burst into tears and spilled the entire sorry affair.

You and Rhett, hanging out all summer.  You in love, and Rhett…not.  Not with you, anyway. 

Wyatt wasn’t stupid.  When you said hanging out, he could guess what you meant.

Seeing his niece hurt like that made him see red, but he has a modicum of maturity, which means he bides his time in most things. 

*****

Maria’s been gone for months.

You’ve been gone for longer.

Winter in Wyoming is no joke.  Wabang gets less snow than other parts, but the wind cuts marrow-deep, and the days are short, grey affairs.  The holidays could be a break from the doldrums, but Royal has been on a tear lately, lighting into Rhett for every little thing, so Thanksgiving, then Christmas are tense and joyless.

For the first time in his life, Rhett truly considers his future.  What his life may look like in five, ten, twenty years.  Will he always wake to grey mornings that sit on his chest like a stone?  Will he become bitter and mean, the way his father has despite having a wife and sons and a granddaughter? 

He sends you texts.  Little one-liners, asking how you are, saying he misses you.  He tries to feel you out, but you leave him on read and never respond.

Once, he gets blisteringly drunk and tries to call.  You don’t pick up, and he doesn’t leave a message.

By now, the shame has settled into him and made itself at home. 

He can guess that you came by the bar that night.  He can guess that you saw him and Maria, and that’s what caused you to flee.  Layered on top of the shame is an annoyance with you and your knack for running.  He may be an asshole but you’re a child to run and hide when shit gets tough.

Then, on top of the annoyance, another layer of shame.  Of course you run.  The death of your parents left you with that wound, the inability to handle hurt in a healthy way.  You flee and tuck yourself in a corner, tend your wounds alone.  It’s a flaw, but it’s understandable why you do it.

Rhett had been your best friend, and for the briefest summer, he was your lover too.  He should have been the one person to help you work through that fear.  Instead, he only cemented it further.

*****

March.  The leaden skies start to take on some blue, high up in the atmosphere.  The sun burns a little warmer.  The barnyard thaws into a swamp, and Wyatt has to handle the anxious animals, pawing and snorting and half-mad from a winter of cabin fever.

March is a tough month, though, because you call and tell him you aren’t coming back to Wabang for the summer.  You got a coveted internship with a specialty vet hospital in the city, and while Wyatt knows it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you, it’s far easier to blame that fucking asshole Abbott boy.

It’s easy to blame Rhett when Wyatt eats dinner alone each night.  When he runs a vacuum over the floor of your bedroom, keeps it dust free like you may turn up any day and take your place back on the family ranch.  When he studies the row of family photos on the mantle, sees his sister’s face and feels like he’s failed her in the care of her daughter.

He’s not irrational about it.  He knows he has to let you fly and trust you’ll return.  Vet training is a long process—it’s not like you went off to Cheyenne for a handful of bookkeeping courses.  He knows, deep-down, you would have always left for your schooling.

Still, that fucking Abbott boy has built up a tab, in Wyatt’s eyes.  March is when that tab comes due.

-----

He knows the boy drinks at the Double Deuces.  It’s common gossip how he overdoes it and either gets ornery with the Tillerson’s or pukes himself silly in the parking lot.  There’s whispers of the fights between Royal and the boy, how the elder Abbott is tired of bailing out his youngest son, though no one would ever accuse Royal of having any patience, especially where Rhett is concerned.

If it were anyone else—any other dickhead young buck—Wyatt would chuckle in sympathy.  He used to do the same when he was younger.  He knows what the Wabang drunk tank looks like.  Hell, maybe his name is still there—he scratched it into the pea-green paint of the wall decades back to commemorate his first overnight stay.

But Wyatt doesn’t confront Rhett at the Double Deuces.  He doesn’t seek him out at all.

Rhett comes to him.

It’s a Saturday night, and Wyatt is lazing in front of the TV, watching the recaps of the week’s basketball games.  He’s half-asleep when he hears the heavy, scuffing tread of boots on his porch, then a thumping fist at the door.

When he peeks out of the window to see who it is, it’s the fucking asshole.  Rhett sways unsteady on his feet.  Wyatt opens the door, and he can smell the reek of cheap beer and brown liquor.  When he peers out farther, he can see where the fucking asshole parked his truck, half in the driveway and half in the yard, the tires sunk deep in the soft spring turf.

“You drive here like that?” Wyatt asks, though it’s obvious.

The kid nods.

Wyatt sighs, scrubs his hand over his jaw.  “Tell me you came from next door.  Tell me you were drinking at home and not out on the roads fucking loaded.”

Rhett stares at him, his eyes bleary and blood-shot, his blinks slow and deliberate.  “Came from t’bar,” he slurs.

“Fucking prick.”  Wyatt breathes it out. 

His vision wavers for a moment, the rage that courses through him is so hot and sudden.  He moves towards the kid just as Rhett sways towards him, and in a blink, Wyatt finds his hands on him, his sweat-dampened t-shirt twisted in his fists.  This close, the beer fumes make his eyes water, and when Wyatt studies the kid’s face, he sees blank stupefaction. 

“You fucking little prick.”  He pivots, turns, hauls Rhett away from the front door, down off the porch.  He half-drags, half-carries him, and once they are on the soft grass of the front yard, Wyatt shoves him away.

“Stupid, selfish.  So fucking selfish.”  The rage feels good, like a narcotic in his veins.  “You could have killed someone, driving like this.”

“I didn’t…”  Rhett sways on his feet, struggles to get his balance.  “Didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?”

“Didn’t t-think—”

Wyatt is on him again, his hands firm on Rhett’s chest as he shoves him in earnest, sends the kid stumbling back on his ass.  “You never fucking think, do you?  Jesus fucking Christ, my sister…her husband…they were killed by a fucking drunk driver, and you have the fucking balls to…you asshole…you fucking piece of shit.  You—”

But he can’t even finish.  His sister and brother-in-law, your parents.  Years ago now, but the pain is still fresh, a keen edge of a knife blade that takes his breath away.  It was after a rodeo, a random Saturday.  One stupid fucking decision and Wyatt lost his family, you lost your parents, and the rest of the world had the bad taste to keep on going. 

There’s a roadside memorial on the road out of Wabang that marks the site of the crash.  It makes that knife blade of grief twist in Wyatt’s gut every time he sees it.

Anger—rage—is such a close neighbor to grief.  Grief is something one has to feel, but anger?  That’s something to embrace, to lean into.  To do.

Wyatt advances on Rhett, his big fists opening and closing as the kid struggles to get back on his feet.  Wyatt wants to beat the shit out of him, wants to see him bruised and bloodied on the ground:  for hurting you years ago, for hurting you more recently, and now this.  For taking his life and the life of anyone else on the road into his own stupid, selfish hands.

Rhett manages to find his knees, and he kneels in the grass but can seem to get no further.  Wyatt towers over him.

“Get up,” he orders.  His voice is low, deadly, and his tone must penetrate the booze-fog because the kid tilts his head up and looks at him. 

“Get up,” he repeats.  “Get up and face it like a man.”

Rhett only manages a dumbfounded, “huh?”

“You wanna drive a big truck like a big man?  Drink at the Double D’s like a big fucking man?  You wanna fuck around with my niece and break her fucking heart like a big man?  So stand up and take what’s coming to you like a man.”

The kid seems to track Wyatt’s meaning.  His bleary eyes clear a fraction and fix on where Wyatt’s fists wait, eager to offer some payback for his sins.  Rhett nods, as if to himself, and he takes a deep breath.  Closes his eyes, opens them.  He struggles to stand, staggers a little, but eventually finds his feet.

“Make it her.”  It comes out one slurred word, makeither, and Wyatt’s anger cools by the barest degree.  He unclenches his fists, holds them looser.

“What the fuck you trying to say?”

Rhett coughs, sways.  Coughs again, then enunciates, clarifies.

“Make it hurt.  Make sh…sure.  Make sure it hurts.”

Wyatt’s fists uncurl more.  “Now what are you—”

“Am.  Piece of shit.  I am.”  The kid sways more but takes a wide step, braces his legs wide to keep himself upright.  “Y’right.  Imma piece a’shit.”

As quickly as Wyatt’s rage came on him, it flees him just as fast.  He sees it just as clear as day, how Rhett Abbott ain’t a man.  He’s just a boy playing at it, fucking up as he goes.  Wyatt knows as well as anyone the sort of father the kid has, Royal Abbott is no model of what a man should be. 

The kid standing in front of him is just a hurt animal:  hurt by his own father, hurt by his own behavior because he has no idea how to not take out his hurt on others.

He waves his hand at the kid, a dismissive gesture, and he starts to turn away.  He is halfway back to the house when he hears the kid coming for him, feels the weak glancing blow of the punch that has no aim or power because the kid is too drunk.

He wants to be punished, he thinks as he turns back around to face Rhett.  He knows Royal is hard on his youngest son, can guess that the kid’s been knocked around plenty.  His own father…well, he keeps that buried in the past, but sometimes it pops up like a bad penny.  Like now. 

He wants to be hurt because it’s the only thing he knows, he thinks.  Like I used to.

Maybe Wyatt only fell into fatherhood because of a tragedy, but he gets more of it right than he will ever give himself credit for.  He faces the kid, and when the kid comes swinging at him again, spoiling for a beat-down Wyatt will never deliver after all, Wyatt only opens his arms and lets Rhett step into them.  The kid struggles for a beat but he’s drunk, and he seems tired down to his soul.

It only takes a moment for the kid to stop struggling in Wyatt’s bear-hug, then sag against him in exhaustion, then weep in dry, barking sobs that feel like they’ve been building up for his entire life.  And Wyatt knows exactly what sort of pain the kid is bleeding out because it was his pain, and his sister’s too, until they both fled their unhappy childhood home and made a happier one here on this ranch.

“Christ almighty,” Wyatt says after the kid calms.  He doesn’t let him go—he only gets an arm around his shoulders, and he leads him inside. 

No sense sending him home to his father.  He’s here now, so he might as well sleep it off on the couch.

-----

It’s less than a month before Rhett returns.  Maybe a handful of weeks later, the kid turns up on Wyatt’s step, sheepish.  Looking small.

Wyatt will never be clear exactly why Rhett and Royal fall out so terrifically.  Who can say?  The Abbotts can be squirrelly fucking assholes, back to Royal’s father and probably even further back, but Rhett finds himself kicked out with nowhere to go.

He takes the couch for a night, but the next day, Wyatt thrusts some fresh sheets in the kid’s arms and directs him to the guest room down the hall.  Past your bedroom.

“Might sleep better in an actual bed,” he tells the kid, his voice gruff.

“I’ll be out as soon as I can.”  Rhett’s ears burn red in shame.  “Just gotta line up a place.”

“No rush.”

“Seriously, I’ll—”

“I got plenty of room.  You ain’t putting me out.”

-----

Wyatt is never sure the right way to tell you that Rhett Abbott is currently crashing with him.  A month passes and then another, and he starts to feel guilty that the kid who broke your heart has been living down the hall from your childhood bedroom, sitting at your kitchen table.  That he parks his truck beside yours, and that he’s caught the kid—more than once—lingering by your bedroom door, lingering by your truck, like your ghost might manifest if he stands still enough.

Every time you call.  Each Facetime.  Wyatt wants to say something and doesn’t.

Wyatt ends up taking the coward’s way out:  he sends you an email.  Keeps it short and sweet, apologizes for not saying anything sooner.  He alludes to the situation between father and son, but clarifies that Rhett is in no way forgiven for how he treated you.  It’s just that the kid needed a soft place to land, and he had the ability to help, so he felt it was his God-given duty to do so.

But I can ask him to leave, if you want, he writes.  If it makes you uncomfortable.  You’ll always be my first and top priority, kiddo.

It takes you two days to reply, but that means nothing.  You have a brutal schedule and often go radio silent for stretches of time.  When you do reply, it makes Wyatt smile.

I can’t be mad about it, you write back.  How many times did you look the other way when I brought a stray home?  I guess you deserve a stray of your own.  Might want to take him in for his shots though. :-) 

Wyatt grins when he reads your email, then glances over at where Rhett is sitting on the couch, watching TV.  The kid does act like a stray; he cringes the barest bit if Wyatt moves too suddenly or too close to him, but like a stray, he relishes the comfort of a warm home, food in his belly, and even the tamest praise.

You got a heart of gold, kiddo, Wyatt texts you, and your response is immediate.

Got it from my uncle.

-----

Through the summer and autumn, the two men fall into a rhythm.  It isn’t so bad living with the kid, once he starts to get his sea-legs under him.  Once he starts to feel like the bottom won’t drop out.  Rhett puts in an honest day’s work on the ranch, and Wyatt pays him.  The first time he presses money on the kid, he tries to push it away, embarrassed at what he thinks is more charity on top of the charity of room and board…

“You work for me, you work for me,” Wyatt said, blunt.  “Means you get paid by me.  Take it or leave.”

Wyatt won’t know it until years from now, when he’s an old man and Rhett has grey in his own hair, but this stretch of time—the two men working and living together—is when Rhett starts to learn how to be a man.  That Wyatt is the gruff but kind, slightly awkward father-figure Rhett always needed.

There are lessons embedded in their days working the ranch.  The lessons ease Rhett out of the fog of his life, the strange liminal space of being in his early twenties but still just a kid.

When Rhett royally fucks up a stretch of fencing, ruins a day of work.  Wyatt only grunts, shakes his head, then claps Rhett on the back.

“You can either take the time to plan out a job, or plan on doing the job twice,” is all he says, and he guesses that Royal would have belted his son into the dirt for such an error.

When Wyatt tasks Rhett with a simple rewiring job in the barn, replacing some light fixtures, and the kid has no idea where to even start.  He spends half the day sweating about it, a sick feeling churning in his stomach, until he decides to throw up the white flag and admit he has no experience working with electrical fixtures.

“Well, hell, kid.  Why didn’t you say something?”  Wyatt jerks his chin towards the barn.  “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

When at the rodeo, Rhett is tossed from the bull within seconds, a humiliating display.  Afterwards, his body bruised but his ego far worse off, Wyatt only chuckles at him, says life will throw you off like that sometimes and it’s the getting back up that shows character.

“You got back up,” he tells Rhett.  “That means something.”

“Means I didn’t want to get trampled,” he grumbles.

“Still means something.”

-----

Always, though, there’s the specter of you.

Wyatt catches the kid standing in the doorway of your bedroom sometimes still.  Peering in at the time capsule of your stuff:  the clothes you’ve left behind, the framed photos, the beat-to-shit stuffed bear on your bed. 

Wyatt mentions you in passing, but he never brings up that long-ago night at the hotel or your sudden flight from Wabang the summer before.  He guesses Rhett already feels terrible all the time, so why bother bringing it up and make it worse?

The kid eventually broaches the subject all on his own, just as winter descends on Wabang again.  It’s been over a year since either of them have seen you in person, though Wyatt Facetimes you at least once a week.

Rhett makes himself scarce during those calls, but Wyatt’s always had the impression he’s not far off, maybe straining to make out your voice through the wall.

In early December, you break the news that you aren’t coming home for the holiday break.  Wyatt would suspect that Rhett might be the reason, but your eyes practically glitter with excitement as you talk about a massive stray animal sweep you’ve helped plan, a Christmas-into-New Years take-to-the-streets movement to find and rescue as many street dogs and cats as you can.  You’ve been working with local Girl Scouts to build feral cat cold-weather shelters, and you’ve been raising money and donations, and you’ve built a strong foster network, and local clinics are ready to spay and neuter and administer vaccines—

Heart of gold, indeed.  It makes Wyatt tear up, first from so much pride it feels like his chest might burst, then from that knife edge of grief that his sister isn’t here to see what a force for good her daughter turned into.

When Wyatt breaks the news to Rhett later, though, the kid sorta deflates, and that’s when he brings it up himself.

“It’s my fault,” he mumbles.  “She’ll never come back if I’m here.”

“Not true.”  Wyatt goes to the refrigerator and snags two bottles of beer, then hands one off to Rhett.  He settles in his easy chair and studies the kid.  “You know she loves animals.  She’ll come back eventually.”

“She hates me.”

“Nah.  I don’t know if hate is something she can even feel.  Dislike, maybe.  Disappointment.  Not hate.” 

“She should hate me.  I deserve it.”

And then it spills out, one clipped sentence at a time.  The entire history of you two, from best friends in childhood to passing acquaintances to an awkward moment in a hotel that Wyatt now knows was not actual sex but just some fooling around that ended in a cruel words.  When Rhett gets to the part of the story about your summer together, Wyatt holds up a palm, says, “yeah, don’t want the details at all,” and Rhett slouches against the couch and sighs.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her, you know.  Sounds fucking stupid, but at the time, I didn’t even realize what I was doing to her.”  Rhett glances over at the man, fixes his eyes back on the floor.  “Looking back, it felt like I was sleepwalking through that summer, and now I’m awake and see all the damage I did.”

Wyatt chuckles sadly.  He knows the feeling.  He has his own hurt women in his past, experienced the same sort of heartless sleepwalking. 

The kid shakes his head and continues.  “Wasn’t worth it.  Maria, I mean.  I don’t even know what I saw in her. 

“You were thinking with the wrong brain,” he tells Rhett.  Wyatt may have no lost love for Maria Olivaries, but he’d admit she was a pretty gal.  He could see why the boys went a little stupid around her. 

“Wasn’t thinkin’ at all.”  He says your name, a sigh in his mouth, then adds, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Look.”  Wyatt sets his empty beer bottle aside, leans forward.  “You gotta try to make it right with her.  How you square it up is up to you.  Maybe she’ll forgive you, maybe she won’t, but you gotta make an honest try at it.”

“How?”

“Damned if I know.  But take it from me, kid.  I had a girl when I was your age, and I fucked it up completely.  Even once I realized how badly I fucked up, I was too proud to try and set it right.  Now it’s been years and it’s far too late.  So you gotta try, so even if she never forgives you, it’ll set right in your chest that you did everything you could.”

Rhett stares at him for a long beat, then nods.  Then there’s a beat of glassiness in his eyes, near-tears, that Rhett blinks away almost angrily before he turns and clears his throat.

“I don’t mean to, you know.  I don’t mean to be a piece of shit,” he says, his voice rough-edged.

“Aw hell, kid.”  Wyatt heaves himself out of his chair and starts to make his way back to the kitchen for another beer.  He stops in front of where Rhett sits, slouched over, and he lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit,” he tells him.  “I just think you’re kind of a shithead.”

Rhett snorts.  “What’s the difference?”

“First one is a lost cause,” Wyatt says.  “Second one is just an idiot trying to do his best.  Like most of us.”

*****

Christmas day at a bachelor’s ranch is not as sad as it might seem.

Wyatt brings in a tree but they only throw some lights on it to give it a bit of cheer.  They build a fire in the fireplace, exchange no gifts, settle in and watch the football games.

Christmas dinner is a pot of Wyatt’s ulcer-inducing chili and a pan of cornbread.  Cecelia drops by in the morning with a plate of cookies and a handful of gifts for Rhett, but it’s just the two guys for most of the day.

Until you call to Facetime your uncle.

You take Rhett unawares; you call off-schedule.  You usually call in the evening but this is the afternoon, and Wyatt mutes the football game and take the call from the couch.  Rhett starts to stand up, but the man waves him to sit back down.  No need to hide out like he usually does.

So Rhett gets a full accounting of your life from you directly.  He can hear your voice, and you sound like you have a sore throat.  You tell your uncle about your big rescue mission, how it’s bitterly cold in the city but how you’ve saved so many dogs, so many cats, and how you can’t wait to head back out after you warm up a bit.

“I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas,” you tell Wyatt.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

Your uncle glances over at Rhett, nods in his direction.  “We’re doing okay for a couple of guys.”

“You decorate a tree?”

“Just string lights.”

“The prettiest part of a tree anyway.  What about dinner?”

“Chili.”

You laugh, and the sound makes Rhett smile – when was the last time he heard it? 

“Happy Birthday, Jesus.  Here’s some indigestion,” you joke.

“Good thing the kid went to Costco and got a gallon bucket of Pepto,” Wyatt jokes back.

It draws another laugh, which makes Rhett laugh, which makes you stop and ask your uncle if Rhett is there too.

“He is,” Wyatt admits.  “We’re watching the football game.”

There’s a beat of silence from you that seems to stretch out forever but is probably only a second or two. 

“Merry Christmas, Rhett,” you say, and Wyatt hesitates, then tilts the screen so Rhett can see you and you can see him.  He almost doesn’t want to look but he can’t help himself.

You’re smiling at him.  Not as broadly as you usually smile when you’re delighted in something or someone, but it’s a medium-sized one that touches the corners of your eyes. 

It’s genuine.

It’s a place to start.  It’s a sliver of hope.  It’s not a door slamming shut in his face but a door left ajar by a fraction, and maybe Rhett can toe it open if he can just find the right way to try and square things up with you.  It’s confirmation that he’s not a piece of shit, just kind of a shithead, and if he tries his best, maybe that will be enough.

“Merry Christmas,” he replies, and if you notice the gruffness in his voice, you don’t react.

“Thanks.” 

Wyatt holds his phone there a moment, starts to turn it back to him, but Rhett blurts out, “be careful out there, okay?” so Wyatt turns it back.

Your smile grows the barest bit.  “Will do.”  A pause.  “Don’t let my uncle work you too hard.”

A toe in the door.  A sliver of hope.  The fire snaps in the fireplace and the string lights twinkle on the tree, and Rhett may be an idiot just trying his best, but maybe that’s enough.

“I barely work at all,” he jokes.  “Gotta leave plenty of work for you when you come back.”

It makes you chuckle.  It’s not a laugh, but it’s something.

“In that case, Uncle Wyatt, work him into the ground,” you joke back, and Wyatt turns his phone back to him this time, and Rhett is left with perhaps a bit more than a sliver of hope.  He leans back on the couch and thinks that yes, maybe he can salvage this after all. 

Maybe trying his best will be enough.

[fizzigigsimmer]

I am in a moody place, and as usual writing soothes me. I have no idea if there will be more of this, but have some broody post apocalyptic King!Steve.

The King Unbroken.

Jonathan was right. They must have crossed the border into what used to be California some time ago. Steve stared down at the old sign, half lodged in the dirt against a pile of twisted tree limbs. An old sign, more rust now than interstate green, nearly unreadable with vine cover. He could still just make out the faded off white letters that read: Little Valley. Five miles.

Sneering, Steve nudged aside the sign with the toe of his boot, revealing the dark opening of a small narrow room hallowed out in the stump of a once great tree - now dead, like so much else. He took one final sniff, spine tensing as he caught that faint whiff of salt that had followed him since they’d veered off route eighty. Maybe it was just sea air, carried in by the rain they had earlier that week. Or maybe it was something worse - like Hargrove.

He saw again, sharp blue eyes peering at him from behind the holes of a wooden mask - no doubt lifted from some museum - white paint highlighting the strange swirls and embellishments carved across the smooth surface of the wood, with brightly colored plumes of feathers jutting out from the top, more frightening than beautiful. It should have been cheesy - a jumped up kid with blood colored handprints staining his skin, trying to invoke fear by wearing the relics of some tribe long gone.

It wasn’t.

Hargrove’s reputation for brutality spoke for itself. And those eyes, that had been so focused in their hunger and unapologetic in Hargrove’s base desire to watch something weaker than himself squirm, had said the rest. Billy Hargrove had scared the piss out of Steve and that was saying something, given that between a choice of being handed over to a savage alpha in exchange for safe trade passages, or facing the flesh eating faceless monsters that roamed freely outside of the compound; Steve had chosen the monsters.

Fuck Billy Hargrove. Fuck his dad too. If the apocalypse had taught Steve anything, it was his value. He wasn’t good for much, but he could be a damn good shield for others. Funny it took the world ending for that to sink in. Because it didn’t matter anymore what his grades were or that he’d never been ‘the best’ at anything besides making others feel small while he stumbled down the path laid for him by his family status and his father’s money. None of it mattered because life was now a brutal game of survival, may the biggest asshole win, and even before the monsters gave him a reason everyone said that Steve Harrington was king asshole.

It wasn’t like Steve had gone through any great big revaluation or soul change. Turning over a new leaf had been literally as simple as turning over in his bunk the first night in the compound and accepting that none of the petty shit he used to care about mattered. Only, in the morning he’d still be alive while better people were dead, so either it was swallow the gun still resting on his nightstand or try and find a little good to do. That’s it. All he was living for. The chance to save a few better people and protect them for as long as he could. Maybe if humanity was lucky, one of those people might be the one to figure out how to deal with the monsters for good.

Everyone in the pack was in awe of the omega who carried a bat full of metal teeth and led raids against grey-dog hives, enemy packs and everything in between, like death couldn’t touch him and his heart was made of stone. There were plenty of people who would swear that Steve was heartless - even some of the ones he’d saved from the outside and brought into the pack himself - but he wasn’t. Not really. He kind of thought that if there ever was a moment that he felt safe enough to really think about everything he had been through since Day One, and everything he had done in between to survive, he’d probably lose it. It might break him, and then he truly would have been just a waste of space.

Which was precisely why he shoved it all down and never thought about it for too long. What was the point? Crying about the dead wasn’t going to bring them back. Neither would feeling guilty over the lives he’d taken. The kind of use the pack had for a soft sentimental omega, one who couldn’t or wouldn’t kill to survive was the stuff of nightmares. He’d seen it happen to most of the other omegas in his life. To his own mother. Only the strong survived here. Nothing was given for free. Anything of value on the other hand could always be taken, or traded.

Steve had proven that he could be more useful than just as a source of amusement and slick. That he could soldier with the best of them. He could get hit, kicked, knocked down, clawed full of holes, and drag himself back up every time. Since their first raid together his team had lost the fewest members and they still had the highest success rate of any party in the pack. Steve had carefully selected each member, because he’d always been good at surrounding himself with people stronger and smarter than himself, and convincing them somehow to care for him.

It was his one skill, besides hitting things. But by god he’d earned the right to say he’d proven he could make good use of what he had. He hadn’t survived watching those beasts tear apart his friends, seeing his mother passed around like a party favor for oil, just to end up sharing her fate. Traded off to a savage alpha to be bred and brutalized in an endless circle of hell until he died.

Fuck that!

Pushing the memory of the alpha aside, Steve knelt down onto his hands and knees and crawled inside, backward, tugging the heavy sign back into place after himself, and plummeting the den into darkness.

Breathing deep, the scent of dirt and rot filled his nose, and Steve Harrington breathed his first sigh of relief in days. It was stupid to think he would - no matter how much his dad complained about having to negotiate with a kid, it wasn’t Hargrove that needed them - but if there were any chance that Billy was following him, he wouldn’t be able to find Steve now.

Dead or not, the walls of the oak were thick. The natural scents of decay overpowered those of an unwashed human body. Even one of an omega flushed with heat and damp from exertion. Feeling around in the dark Steve’s fingers found the strap of the backpack with supplies that Robin had stashed there for him. It wasn’t much: a ratty old blanket (cheap in this warm climate). A water bottle (expensive anywhere). And a little plastic packet of Advil (worth more than gold these days).

But it’s more than most people have. Steve had always had more than what most people have. Even before the monsters came and civilization as he knew it crumbled around him. It wasn’t fair maybe, but life wasn’t fair. If it was, shitheads like him would have been the first to go in the apocalypse; the base of their power destroyed and unable to adapt to whatever new society emerged from the rubble. But that wasn’t what happened when the world as he knew it ended.

What happened was rich guys like his dad who survived long enough after the first appearance of the monsters, bought up resources while they fled to whatever approximation of safety money could buy them. They threw even more money at stocks and whatever else they hoped would make them richer once the danger was passed, and the smart ones stockpiled what they knew would become better than money in the event that the danger never did.

It hadn’t. Steve’s highschool, the stock market, and just about everything else from his old life was gone.

A few pockets of civilization still clung to life in a sea of monsters. Each colony ruled by whatever alphas had proven themselves better survivors than the rest, followed by those who hoped to be protected from a worse fate. Billy Hargrove was said to be one of the strongest alphas in the west.

He’d slaughtered the pack and taken over the territory that once had been their primary source of trade with the east. Steve’s father had offered him a king's ransom in goods for the promise to reopen trade. But Hargrove had only seemed to want one thing. The heartless omega he’d apparently heard so much about.

Curling up tighter in the small space, Steve brought the blanket over himself and shivered, despite the temperature he could feel climbing with each passing minute. His heat could not have come at a worse time but mercifully he’d made it to the den. With Jonathan and the others keeping a watch on the area he could be relatively confident that nothing would disturb him for a few days while he rode it out.

And when his heat was over, Steve had a new mission. Another chance to prove to his father that he had made a mistake, trading him to Hargrove.

Steve closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, trying to drift off to sleep to conserve his energy before the worst of the heat arrived. The faintest whisper of the sea tickled in the back of his nose, more memory than real. Haunting him. Steve gritted his teeth and silently renewed his vow.

He was going to bring his father back Billy’s head, along with the territory that came with it. And when he did no one would ever question again why he’d survived this long, unchained and unbroken.

[gremlingirlsmell]

anyways, am-i-the-asshole-official is uncritically platforming transmisogyny. like, real obvious transmisogyny.

like that post has everything. pedojacketing. saying she's gross/creepy. she's "creepy" for basically confessing (joining OPs polycule). her not getting work and her coworkers hating her some how reflecting bad on her, and not them and how transmisogynistic society is. mentioning how tall and broad and scary she looks. calling her creepy for wearing a maid outfit at home while cleaning. and then just peppering in a half-assed vague "oh she sexually abused my partner he says so" while also vaguely saying she "gives off creepy vibes". to justify making her homeless btw

and the people in the notes are LAPPING it up! nta is currently winning. and the blog owner sees no problem platforming this. in the context of the everything happening on this website rn, disgusting honestly

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Izutsumi character study

[solitaireships]

I feel like I should say since there's been a recent uptick in a lot of communities I'm in/see stuff from a lot of white people pretending to be Asian, but you are not welcome here if you are in anyway stealing from Asian cultures for clout or the aesthetics of it

This includes if you're white and you give your self inserts Asian names, I truly do not care if your f/o is from an anime, you should not be using an Asian name under any circumstances. I hate that whenever I see someone using an Asian name online, I feel like I have to start searching their account to see if they're actually Asian or just a white person who likes the aesthetic of it bcs far too many white people will use Asian names here just bcs it sounds cool, with no regard for the actual cultural meaning behind it. Meanwhile actual Asian people will be mocked for their names, or treated like their names are too hard to learn to pronounce, or discriminated against based on their names

Asian cultures are not a fun little costume for people to dress up with. They aren't just a nice aesthetic, they aren't just a thing you can borrow from bcs you think it sounds cool