#like there's nothing wrong with them and i am making it all up

[sylusismybby]

Husband Sylus loves to take his time when he is eating you out, his hands are so gentle yet so rough as they spread your legs. He places kisses all over your breasts before his mouth moved lower to your stomach, his tongue presses against your skin and he licks down to your hips before placing a slight bite there, leaving a little mark for days to follow. His red eyes were on your face the whole time, he didn't look away once, enjoying how you squirmed and moaned under his every move. Once he finally reaches your heat, he places a kiss over your clothed sex making a slight whine leave your lips, he loved teasing you. "What's wrong, kitten? Are you getting impatient?" Your thighs are his next victim, he presses a few bites on your plush flesh and then kisses up to your pussy again. "Just say the words and I'll give it to you."

You bite your lip before answering. "Please Sylus, please.." Oh how he loved that sound from your mouth, he almost growled at that, his head lowered again and his teeth bit into the fabric of your panties swiftly taking them off of your legs. Sylus spreads you again, you're fully naked now, fully in his view, just his to deavor and that's exactly what he planned to do. Without a moment more, he dives in, his tongue immediately darting out and licking a stripe up your slit. "You're all wet, kitten." A slight smile appears on his lips and he continues to tease you with a few licks and then he fully let's his tongue wonder. Loud gaps is what he gets out of you, his mouth is working relentlessly on your pussy, sucking and licking everywhere. He moans against your core, his hips griding against the sheets as he eats you out. Sylus wanted nothing more than to be buried deep inside of you but he loved pleasing you just as much. "You taste so good, sweetie."

He pulls away for a second, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your pussy, his red eyes look between your thighs. "My pretty wife." Whispering to himself, Sylus goes back in, this time his mouth is more lewd. His mouth finds your clit and you moan, hands tugging onto his white hair, hips bucking against his face and he appreciates it all. "Good girl, kitten. Just like that." Fuck, he loved how you tasted, he loved how you reacted to him, he loved you. Letting go of your clit, his fingers are digging into your thighs, he moves lower, his tongue teasing your hole. The wet noises of his mouth against your core echo throughout the room, your moans grow louder and you can feel that warmth stirring in your lower belly. Your hands move from his hair to the sheets, gripping the soft black material as Sylus continues to pleasure you in all the right ways.

"Mhhh, are you gonna cum for me?" The way he mumbles against your pussy sends waves all throughout your body, the pure bliss is pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Sylus noticed the change in your reactions, the way your pussy twitched as his mouth and tongue worked on you, he would frame a picture of you on his wall like this. "I'll take that as a yes." He chuckles kissing your folds before spreading them with his fingers to get an even better angle of you. His tongue licks in between your wet folds, he almost moans at your taste, hips griding against the sheets, his cock is painfully hard. However, your pleasure is his first priority. "Sylus! I am gonna-mgh!" Your legs starts shaking, they threatened to close against his head but he held you open. "I know kitten, cum for me. Let it all out." And you do, your eyes roll back, a loud moan of his name escapes you. Your husband doesn't stop, he laps up all of you, grunting as you cum against his face. If he could, he was stay all day between your pretty thighs, after all, that's what husband's are for in his mind, to please and devote themselves to thier wife fully.

[no-144444]

total wipe out- l.norris

summary: lando has a chance encounter that changes his life

pairing: lando norris x fem! single mom! reader

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Lando had a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. This time, his skiing holiday had turned into a disaster when he fucking ran over a child. Impressive, I know. The second he did it he slowed down and started to book it back to the kid who was probably sobbing crying (he’d hit it at full force). 

“Are you alright?!” he stressed, picking up the kid (who had been stuck in the snow). 

And the fucker was giggling. 

“That was fun!” he cheered, clapping his hands. “Do it again!” 

Did he have brain damage? Did he just give a child fucking brain damage? 

“Alex!” you shouted, stopping beside the two of them. “Are you alright?” you asked, taking him in your arms and checking him over. 

“I’m fine mommy! I had so much fun!”

You stared at your son, unimpressed. The mini heart attack you’d just had was all for nothing. “You’re a weird fucking kid,” you mumbled under your breath, making Lando laugh. You turned to him. “I am so sorry about him, I always tell him to stay by me, but he doesn’t listen-”

Lando chuckled, holding a hand up to stop you. “I am almost sure it was my fault, so I am very sorry. I hope he’s alright and I didn’t give him brain damage or something.”

You laughed. “Let’s hope not,” you smiled. “Sorry again.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry too.”

And with that, you and Alex skated off. 

“What the fuck was that?!” Max shouted, coming up beside him with Pietra hot on his tail. “YOU JUST WIPED OUT A KID!” 

Lando rolled his eyes. Max, ever the pessimist. 

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As he sat in his cabin, just finished winning a game of poker, he sighed, thinking of you and Alex. Obviously, Lando hadn’t seen anything other than your hair (which he thought was gorgeous), and your eyes when you’d lifted your sunglasses to look over Alex. You had hauntingly beautiful eyes, and he was slightly upset with himself that he hadn’t tried to chat with you longer. You were sweet, kind, funny, beautiful (he just knew you were gorgeous). He wanted to know more. 

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Hanging around the same slope as yesterday in hopes of seeing you there was probably not his best idea, but alas, his dumb plan worked. He saw the familiar dinosaur helmet on the 4 year olds head, and he smiled when he noticed Alex whizzing up to him. 

“Alex!” he cheered, watching him come down the mountain, a bright smile on his face. 

Alex walked over and wrapped his arms around Lando’s legs. “Did you see?” he questioned, looking up at him. 

Lando’s heart ached, he adored children. Alex was definitely not helping his raging baby fever. “I did bud! That was awesome.”

“Are you a professional skier?” he asked.

“No,” Lando smiled, kneeling down to meet his eyes. Your eyes, just smaller. “But I am a professional athlete.”

“What sport?!” he asked, his eyes going wide. “My favourite sport is Formula One, but I like all sports anyway.”

“Who’s your favourite driver?” Lando asked, suppressing a smirk as he took his balaclava down. 

“Lando Norris!” he cheered, jumping up and down. 

Lando finally took off his goggles and Alex’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit!” he almost shouted, making Lando laugh. 

“Alex!” you scolded, walking over to him. “What did we say about bad words?” 

“Momma look, he’s Lando Norris!” Alex cheered, pulling on your jacket. 

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, looking at him. “Hi, I’m Y/n, and this is Alex,” you introduced. “We meet again.”

He smiled. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Do you mind if Alex gets a picture with you? You’re his favourite driver,” you asked, trying to sound less awkward than it felt. 

“Of course, I’d love to,” Lando smiled, more than happy to get in a photo with him. Alex stood up beside him, hugging him, as Lando smiled wide and bright. You quickly snapped a picture and thanked him. 

“Momma, can we go again?” Alex asked, pointing at the top of the mountain. 

“We should probably head in for dinner darling,” you said. Alex frowned. “You’re hungry, I know you’re hungry.”

Alex huffed. “I want to go again though.”

“We’ll go again tomorrow,” you smiled, patting his back. 

“Alright,” he smiled. “Bye bye Lando!” 

“Thanks again,” you smiled at him. 

“I’m heading in too now,” he said. “Mind if I join you guys?”

You stared at him for a second. “Um, yeah, sure,” you smiled. “Of course.”

Alex beamed and held Lando’s hand as you all walked back to the resort. 

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Dinner was just listening to Alex ask Lando questions about his life, about the cars, about everything. It was cute, and Lando was so willing to listen to every question, and adequately answer them. As dinner went on, you noticed the way he kept looking over at you, soft, sweet, staring that didn’t make you uncomfortable. And when he was the one carrying Alex back up to your hotel room, and wishing him sweet dreams, he didn’t mind it. 

“Thanks for everything today, you’ve definitely made his year,” you chuckled. 

“It was nice to meet you guys. Alex is a lovely kid,” he nodded, but there was still something unsaid. He wanted to ask for your number, but didn’t want to overstep, and he could feel the tension between you two. “I’m just going to say this, and you can totally say no and I’ll back off but could I get your number?”

You stared at him. “Is that a joke?” you asked, unsure. 

“Oh shit, are you married? Fuck I didn’t know-”

“No, no! I’m not. It’s just… you’re… y’know, and I’m not. I’m a single mom and you’re a racecar driver.”

He shrugged. “And? I really like you, and Alex.”

“Be realistic Lando, what would people say?” 

“That I’ve got a very hot and sweet girlfriend and a cute stepson?” he smirked and you playfully pushed him. 

“You can have my number, but I’m not promising any of that,” you chuckled, grabbing your phone.

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Australian GP. First race of the season. 

And you were sitting in Lando’s hotel room before he had to go to the track. How your life had changed in the past few months. You were officially dating an F1 driver, you’d been to Monaco a lot, Lanod had visited London a lot, and you were happy. Alex adored Lando, they literally went on day trips together without you (Lando says it’s so you can have time with your friends, but you know it’s just because he wants to hang out with him). 

“You ready to go, bud?” Lando knocked on the door of the hotel bathroom, trying to get Alex out of there. 

“Almost, just need to wash my hands!” he answered. 

“You ready?” he asked, turning to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. He was excited. Extremely so, to have you in his garage and to show you off to the world. 4 months of dating hardly seemed enough, but he had convinced you anyway. 

You nodded and took a deep breath, slightly terrified for this weekend. 

“You’ll do great,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him. “Everything will be alright.”

You nodded and smiled, taking his hand instead as Alex came out of the bathroom. “All finished mom,” he smiled and took your hand. 

Lando stopped you two and smiled. “Pre-race weekend selfie?” he smiled bashfully. You smiled back at him and lifted up Alex, all three of you posing for the photo. “Perfect,” he smiled, looking at the photo, then kissing your cheek. 

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navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

[aydracz]

The GO bench in St James Park has been replaced with a different one

Very sorry to report that the sanded down bench they returned at the original spot in St James Park is actually NOT the OG fandom one.

There are some very prominent features the OG bench had. Most importantly, the shape of the back of the bench, the armrest shape, and the height of the bench itself:

OG bench (pic taken last year):

The new bench, unfortunately, has a different back shape (the tops of the left and right wooden planks at the back):

I did some ineffable detective work in St James Park this weekend of 25th January (with the help of @0xlilith and @fuckyeahgoodomens and @fuzzywhispersbear) and examined all the benches in the near vicinity and subsequently all the benches in the park, in case they just moved it to a different spot. They did not.

I now have a special photo folder in my phone featuring some of the possible candidate benches in St James Park, because that's what you do if you are a GO fan on a trip to London.

All the potential candidate benches that fit the shape criteria didn't meet the "recently cleaned" criterion or the "at least a bit visible carving scars in the right places" criterion.

(A very useful graphics made by @fuckyeahgoodomens)

It is, of course, possible that I am wrong and the bench is there somewhere and has been cleaned so well that not even the carving scars are visible. I just recorded all the Clues as I collected them and this is the logical conclusion:

I think it is realistic to consider that the OG bench was damaged beyond salvation and as such, was removed permanently. I feel like maybe some of the carvings were too deep and beyond repair. I might be wrong, they just might be rotating the benches and our bench is just sitting somewhere in storage, waiting for being cleaned and returned. (It is probably not in different park because all benches have a SJP at the back and I think they make sure to not mix them up).

I, personally, am actually fine with fans writing on the bench. It is within my personal limits of what is OK. But some of the fandom love was maybe too vigorous. And as a whole, I think that this shows us that we might try to treat the new bench with a bit more respect. By refraining from carving in it with a knife. By using plain pencils to write our little notes so that they don't destroy the bench, are easily cleaned and are not visible to regular visitors of the park, only for people who know what they are looking for. Use it as a scavenger hunt place (my personal favourite) to leave little trinkets and gifts for other fans (but hide them well so that they don't visually disturb regular visitors).

I am not openly promoting vandalism here. I am just being realistic and I seriously have nothing but love for the people who left their permanent mark on the bench. (And I would HATE for this post to be used for hating on these fans. Pls don't.) I believe we can find a sweet spot of showing our love for the bois and not damaging the bench beyond salvation.

And I think the management of St James Park is showing us that they are just doing their job and they don't hate us (hopefully).

Why? Because the heart padlock of Aziraphale and Crowley is still there. Someone even added another padlock and a little fly! And these things didn't disappear. I think this hopefully demonstrates that fandom activities in moderation are allowed.

The bench is a symbol of fandom love and as such, I don't think it can be lost. It is what we make it. There is a new lovely bench at the spot and it attracts GO fans just like the previous one did. And while I know many people (including me) will grieve the piece of fandom history that might have been lost, I think that this is an opportunity for a fresh start.

We'll be OK. This place still feels loved.

[postmoe]

So, I'm getting around to doing Amphoreus and... we're at the bath house... and there is a special bath house for heroes.... can you imagine being taken in there without anyone else knowing just to be banged senselessly?

With Mydei and Phainon x Reader

girl we on the same wave length. I just added a bit to something i had going but didn't like it enough for the story i wanted lol.

non-con, helplessness, a bit of choking, bathhouse, ambrosia, master/servant dynamicish

Translations off google so (I went the Ancient Greek route)... Dominus - Master. He philtatē - dearest love. (feminine).

.

Amphoreus is full of many heroes, and though they are all strong and worthy of their titles, there are some that put true unease in others.

Like Mydei. Even with Phainon right next to him, trying to lighten the mood in the room, people still fear his sharp looks and dominating muscles. Everyone has seen what these two heroes can do, and no one wants to be on the wrong side of them.

Not to mention how protective they are of each other. Back and forth arguments seem like nothing when their anger is truly displayed, especially at people who speak ill of their partner.

And then there's you, their precious, priceless darling. A warning isn't good enough if you were to be picked on, broken bones, lost jobs, people are still debating whether or not the person who moved lands is dead or still alive.

So, when you're dragged from your station, or told to meet them somewhere, everyone drops everything to make sure you comply. Which is why, even if people did see you be hauled into the heroes bathhouse, you know calling for help would do nothing good.

That's why you stand there, sweat soaking through your white road, nipples poking into wet, sheer fabric, face stoic and hands holding a large jug of wine like it were any other client. They seem entertained enough by each other, hopefully today they will just leave you alone.

However, as Mydei pulls away from the heated kiss, grinning drunkenly your way and leaning his head against the edge of the in ground bath, you know there is no such luck. "He philtatē, come drink ambrosia with us," he practically moans, Phainon grinding his naked body in his lap, kissing and lapping up the sweat of his lovers neck.

You make a point to keep your eyes facing forward, not wanting to give them the thought that you're indulging in their actions, "No, thank you, dominus. I am working right now." That's not to say you would if you weren't on shift, but, it's as good an excuse as any other.

Phainon finally frees his mouth from the other's body, sculling the rest of his drink, red ambrosia trickling over his lips, down the cleft of his neck, and over the pecs of his chest before mixing with the bath water and disappearing. His eyes are hooded, cheeks dusted red with the effects of alcohol and lust, "Why the sudden harsh treatment, He philtatē, you were never this reserved when we first met."

With a bow of your head, avoiding his gaze, you say, "Kindess is part of the job. I welcomed you in, my job is done."

"Boo~" Phainon whines, rolling off of Mydei and sitting next to him in the water. "You're not like this after work or with your colleagues," he mutters, now holding out his empty cup, "Refill, please!"

You're not even going to ask how he knows what you're like when they're not around, already having the sneaking suspicion they've been following you and paying someone to tail you when they're gone. You crouch down to aim the jug into the goblet, only for Mydei to snatch the wine from your hands which makes you cry out a, "Hey!"

Within moments, you're being dragged into the water by a laughing Phainon. You thrash and splash the water as you're manhandled, thick fingers pulling your clinging robe over your head, leaving you in thin panties and the gold chains around your torso to help support your breasts. You're held tightly against his chest, coddled like a sweet pet until you stop moving so violently. Once you calm down enough, Mydei hands a cup to Phainon, who then promptly presses the rim to your tightly sealed lips, "Ambrosia~ Ambrosia for He philtatē~"

His other hand is roughly grabbing your jaw, the ache forcing your mouth to part enough for the liquid to slip through. You grunt, swallowing the sweet drink, a lot of it falling down your front, until the cup is empty. His hand is swaying in front of your face, the motion annoying you so you backhand the goblet, it flying and dunking in the water. He's so out of it that it takes him a minute to realise what you've done, the man laughing and messily petting your head in a playful manner.

Mydei exhales, sinking further into the bath to relax his muscles, "The whole trip he wouldn't shut up about you. 'When can we see (Y/n) again?' 'How much longer until we leave for (Y/n)?' 'Do you think if I send a letter, it'll reach her before we get back?' Couldn't even focus on fighting."

Phainon cheekily pinches your cheek, directing your attention back to him, "Funny he says that. Just whose name do you think he was calling every night we fucked?" You grab at his wrists once they start to slip to your cunt, fingers brushing your clit while your strength did nothing to hold him back. He didn't even acknowledge it, choosing instead to ask, "We have those new heroes, too. Should we introduce them to our private hole?" A wince escapes you as he slips a finger in, your pussy clenching from the intrusion. He swirls his digit around before adding another, "And what of Anaxa? Where is he?"

"Anaxa is still busy, he won't be back for another month," Mydei steps from the tiled ledge and stands in front of you, his large hands stroking over your shoulders, cupping your breasts in his palms and grazing the nipples with his thumbs. His eyes follow every move with a predatory gaze, "They certainly have proved their worth..."

You zone out as they talk about you like some object. Gritting your teeth, frustrated tears mix with the sweat on your face as you silently cry. What sort of a God or Titan or Deity would allow something such as this to happen to one of their subjects? It just proves how lost your soul really is from everyone else's. Everyone was right, you were abandoned by the titans the moment you were conceived.

Mydei pushes himself against your front, sandwiching you between him and Phainon so he can easily kiss your tears away, "Now look what you've done, you made her cry."

Phainon coos against your hair, his fingers hooking inside you to get a jerking reacting out of you, your hips trapped between the two, "It's okay, He philtatē, we won't share you if you don't want to. It actually makes me happy to see your heart is ours alone."

That's absolutely not true.

"Just be good for us tonight or else we might have to get them to 'help' hold you down," Mydei chuckles drunkenly as if his joke was actually something worth laughing at.

It pissed you off how he could just say something like that and get away with it. You pushed a sturdy hand against his chest, halting him from your boldness. (E/c) eyes look to the door, longing for anyone to enter and stop this madness. Your voice is quiet, moisture inside your mouth gone from the alcohol, bath heat and sexual actions of these men, "One day... One day someone will stop you."

The amused rumble from Phainon's chest made your heart sink. Then, when Mydei's fierce eyes sharped as his grin showed too many teeth to bring an intense foreboding to flood your veins, you shrank back into Phainon as he suddenly seemed to be the lesser of two evils. Mydei scoffed and gripped the base of your neck, your chin tilted up on the curve of his thumb and index as he held you just hard enough to make you wheeze and meet his eyes, "That day won't be a day you're alive."

When he finally let go, the world around you went white and your head couldn't tell which way gravity was holding you. Thankfully, you had your two heroes to keep you safe.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

okay not that he needs it but what a ego boost it would be if sebastian stumbled upon mc and ominis talking about the guy she likes and she just like he's so out of my league listing positive traits (cue sebastian getting very jealous) Only for ominis to be like just tell sebastian then I don't have to hear you wine about it all the timee

Eavesdropping | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Thank you for the request Anon! I hope you love it!!! :")

Words: ~4,600

Tags: Love Confessions, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House

The stone door of the Undercroft groaned softly as Sebastian pushed it open, stepping carefully inside. He exhaled softly, his shoulders relaxing for the first time all day. He had snuck out after curfew, hoping to release some pent-up frustration with a few dueling spells.

He was halfway down the stairs when he froze. Voices—two of them—floated up from below.

Sebastian frowned, his grip tightening on the banister. He recognized them instantly. You and Ominis.

What were you doing here so late? He edged closer, careful to stay out of sight.

“I just don’t see the point,” your voice echoed softly. “It’s not like anything’s ever going to happen.”

Sebastian froze mid-step, his grip tightening on the banister. His brow furrowed. What wasn’t going to happen?

“It won’t if you keep dragging your feet,” Ominis replied, his tone dry as ever.

“It’s not that simple,” you shot back warily.

Sebastian tilted his head, curiosity sparking to life alongside a strange, uneasy feeling in his chest. You sounded frustrated—almost pained. What could possibly have you so worked up?

“It is that simple. You’ve been in love with him for years,” Ominis said, his tone cutting. “Merlin, I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve had this conversation. Either do something about it, or stop talking about it.”

Sebastian’s heart stopped. In love? You’d never mentioned anyone. Not once.

“There's nothing I can do, Ominis,” you said, exasperated. “He doesn’t see me like that.”

Sebastian’s stomach twisted painfully. Who was this mysterious he? Why hadn’t you told him about this before? You usually told him everything.

“And how would you know?” Ominis challenged.

“Because I know him,” you replied firmly. “We’re best friends!”

Sebastian’s chest tightened, a painful mix of jealousy and confusion swirling inside him. Best friends? You were his best friend. Who could possibly come before him in your life?

“Right,” Ominis said sarcastically. “Because you’re so unremarkable.”

“Ominis,” you groaned, “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he shot back. “Half the school is in love with you, and you’re acting like you’re some invisible wallflower.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. Ominis wasn’t wrong. People were drawn to you—how could they not be? But you’d never seemed to notice, much less care. And now you were sitting here, pouring your heart out about someone who clearly wasn’t him.

You sighed, the sound heavy with frustration and tinged with a hint of defeat. “It doesn’t matter what the rest of the school thinks when he’s completely out of my league, Ominis. With his stupidly handsome face and that ridiculous smile that makes it impossible to think straight…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “Merlin, he’s just… he’s everything. Funny, clever, brave, loyal—he could have anyone he wanted.”

For a moment, it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under Sebastian’s feet. How could you possibly think that? How could you believe, even for a second, that you weren’t good enough for whoever this bloke was? And the worst part—the part that made his chest ache—was that he couldn’t step in. He couldn’t tell you how wrong you were because he wasn’t supposed to be listening this in the first place.

“And?” Ominis prompted.

“And what?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“You’re always going on about how wonderful he is, which, I’ll admit, I struggle to agree with,” Ominis said with a dry chuckle. “But you never actually tell me how he makes you feel. Isn’t that the important part? Does it matter how... how handsome and funny he is if he doesn't make you feel something special?”

You hesitated, your voice soft and uncertain when you finally spoke. “He… I don’t know. He makes me feel safe, Ominis. Like no matter what’s going on, as long as he’s there, I’ll be okay. And he makes me feel seen. Really seen. Like I don’t have to be the ‘hero of Hogwarts’ or ‘the girl with ancient magic.’ I don’t have to be anything except… me. He knows me in a way nobody else does. And when I’m with him, it’s like—for once—I don’t have to prove anything.”

Sebastian’s chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t just jealousy—it was something deeper, more painful. Because that’s how he felt about you. You were his safe place, the one person who saw him as more than the brash, reckless troublemaker everyone else thought he was.

And now… now he was realizing that someone else held that place for you.

Ominis huffed a laugh, breaking the silence that followed your confession. “You know, it’s almost tragic.”

You glanced at him, confused. “What’s tragic?”

“That it’s him you’ve fallen for,” Ominis said, his voice laced with dry amusement. “Of all the people in Hogwarts—all the people who would gladly worship the ground you walk on—you’ve managed to lose your head over the most chaotic, reckless, insufferable person I know.”

Your jaw dropped, and a laugh bubbled out of you despite your embarrassment. “Ominis!”

“I’m serious,” he said, smirking. “You could have anyone. Anyone. And yet you’ve decided to pine after someone who probably doesn’t even realize you feel this way because he’s too busy rushing headlong into whatever absurd plan pops into his head.”

You groaned again, shaking your head. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

“Well, I do,” he replied, grinning. “Because clearly, he’s too thick to notice, and you’re too stubborn to tell him. I’m the one stuck in the middle of this ridiculous mess, forced to play mediator while you both dance around each other like idiots.”

Sebastian felt like his chest was going to collapse. The way Ominis spoke so casually about this guy—teasing, almost affectionate—was like a knife twisting deeper into his gut. Whoever you were in love with wasn’t just close to you. They were close to Ominis, too.

Who the hell is it?

Sebastian's mind raced through the possibilities, his thoughts a chaotic mess of jealousy and dread. It had to be someone you spent a lot of time with, someone you trusted enough to feel safe around, someone who was close enough to Ominis that he could make jokes about their recklessness.

And then it clicked.

Garreth Weasley.

Sebastian’s stomach dropped. Of course it was Garreth. It made perfect sense.

Garreth was charming, clever, and funny. He had that easygoing, confident smile that always seemed to draw people in. He was loyal, too—always ready to back up his friends, even if it meant landing himself in trouble. And he had that playful, carefree energy that made everyone want to be around him.

Sebastian felt sick.

Of course she loves Garreth. Why wouldn’t she?

He thought back to all the times he’d seen the two of you together—laughing in the Great Hall, chatting during potions class, exchanging those little looks that he’d tried to tell himself didn’t mean anything.

But they did mean something, didn’t they?

And then there was Ominis. Ominis liked Garreth well enough, didn’t he? He put up with Garreth’s antics, even joined in on the occasional joke. If you were in love with Garreth, it explained why Ominis was teasing you so mercilessly.

It all fit together too perfectly.

Sebastian gritted his teeth. He wanted to hate Garreth—wanted to hate him for being everything Sebastian wasn’t, for being the kind of person you could fall for so easily.

But he couldn’t hate Garreth. Not really. It wasn’t Garreth’s fault that he was so damn likable. It wasn’t Garreth’s fault that Sebastian had been too much of a coward to tell you how he felt.

He pressed his back against the cold stone wall, closing his eyes and letting out a slow, shaky breath.

I’ve lost her, he thought bitterly. I never even had her, and I’ve already lost her.

“It’s not like I have a choice, Ominis,” you continued on, your voice quieter now, tinged with frustration and something far more raw. “If I could stop loving him, don’t you think I would have by now? Believe me, I’ve tried,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve told myself it’s just a stupid crush, that it doesn’t matter, but it does. And no matter what I do, I can’t… I can’t make it go away.”

“Then why don’t you tell him?” Ominis asked, his tone softer now, almost coaxing. “What are you so afraid of?”

You groaned, the sound laden with frustration. “Because it doesn’t matter! He doesn’t like me back, Ominis. I’d destroy our friendship for nothing!”

Sebastian’s heart clenched painfully, the bitter sting of your self-doubt twisting something deep inside him. How could you think so little of yourself? How could you not see what he saw when he looked at you?

Ominis let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think he deserves you,” he muttered. “Merlin knows he’s well aware he doesn’t deserve you. But you can’t decide his feelings for him. That’s not how it works.”

You scoffed. “Your point?”

“I’m just saying,” Ominis replied, his tone exasperated, “that you’re doing both of you a disservice. It’s… it’s getting to the point where something has to give. Either you tell him how you feel, or—”

“Or what?” you interrupted, glaring at him.

“Or I will,” Ominis said firmly, his expression unyielding.

You gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Ominis said, his smirk returning. “I’m tired of watching you both suffer in silence. Merlin knows Sebastian’s too dense to work it out on his own. Maybe hearing it outright will knock some sense into him.”

Sebastian’s heart stopped.

It’s me.

The thought hit Sebastian like a stunning spell, freezing him in place as the pieces of the conversation finally fell into place. Every word, every hint, every exasperated sigh from Ominis—it all pointed to the same answer, one that he’d been too blind, too self-critical, to see.

You were talking about him.

You were in love with him.

His breath hitched, and his grip on the banister tightened as his heart pounded so loudly he was certain you and Ominis would hear it. The jealousy, the doubt, the sharp ache in his chest—all of it melted away, replaced by a dizzying mix of disbelief, relief, and something far brighter: hope. Because you loved him.

“I mean it,” Ominis was saying now, his tone both firm and teasing. “If you won’t tell him, I will. Frankly, I’m tired of sitting through these endless heart-to-hearts when the solution is so obvious.”

You groaned, your frustration evident. “Ominis, I swear—”

“Do it, or I’ll make it the most public confession Hogwarts has ever seen,” Ominis threatened, though the smirk on his face made it clear he was only half-serious.

Sebastian couldn’t stay silent any longer. His feet moved before his mind caught up, carrying him down the remaining steps until he was standing in the open, his gaze fixed on you.

“Ominis won’t have to say a word,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions churning inside him.

You and Ominis both turned toward him, your expression contorting into shock while Ominis grinned.

“Sebastian,” you breathed, your eyes wide.

Ominis crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “Ah, there you are."

Sebastian ignored him, his focus entirely on you. “Is it true?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Everything you just said… is it true?”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out at first. Your gaze flickered to Ominis, as if silently cursing him, before returning to Sebastian. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” he admitted, taking a step closer.

You flushed, your hands twisting nervously at your sides. “Sebastian, I—”

“Just tell me,” he interrupted gently, his eyes searching yours. “Please.”

You hesitated for a moment, your breath hitching, before finally nodding. “Yes."

For a moment, Sebastian couldn’t speak. He just stood there, staring at you, his heart so full he thought it might burst. And then, without thinking, he reached for your hands, his grip firm but gentle.

“You’re in love with me?”

Your cheeks burned, but you held his gaze, your voice trembling as you said, “I am."

“I love you, too,” he said simply, the words spilling from his lips like they’d been waiting years to be spoken. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember."

Tears welled in your eyes as you stared at him, your expression a mix of disbelief and overwhelming relief. “You… you do?”

He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “I do. More than anything.”

Ominis cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. “Well, now that that’s settled, perhaps you two can finally stop making my life so unbearably dramatic.”

Sebastian shot him a look, but there was no real anger behind it. For once, he was too happy, too relieved to care about Ominis’ meddling.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of everything left unsaid finally lifted. And then, with a soft, almost hesitant smile, Sebastian tilted his head and closed the remaining distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was as gentle as it was certain.

When the kiss broke, Sebastian rested his forehead against yours, his smile soft but unshakably certain. “You’re stuck with me now,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. And as you laughed, the sound light and filled with a joy you hadn’t felt in years, you knew there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

[th3cadav3r]

Hello! I think a nice sfw fluff scenario for the Tulpar crew would be headcanons of how each character would react when the reader hesitantly tells them they don’t like sex or are asexual. Reader can be gn. Thank you, I really like your headcanon writings!

SFW Mouthwashing Headcanons—Asexual Reader

content: fluff, kissing, cuddling, mentions of sex, very very very slight acephobia from Jimmy(but with a happy ending)

author’s note: Keep in mind that I am not asexual therefore I cannot understand or fully grasp the asexual experience. I just tried my best based on what I’ve seen and heard online. Hope you enjoy!

Daisuke

You and him had been dating for about three weeks

You always held hands and made out a lot, but nothing more than that

His libido is pretty high because of his age, so naturally he wanted more

You were making out on the couch when suddenly you felt his hands start to wander

It was fine at first until his hand started reaching a little too low for comfort

“Wait—”you blurt out

He stops immediately, retracting his hand

“Sorry, did I do something wrong?” His voice is full of genuine concern

“No, it’s not your fault. I just uh…don’t want that”

He was a little confused. “We can move to my bed if you want” He suggests, thinking that you just wanted more privacy than the living room provided

“No, I…I mean I don’t want to have sex. It’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t like it”

He didn’t expect that but he understood. He smiled reassuringly

“That’s alright. I get it”

You breathed a sigh of relief and your body relaxed. You felt like you truly didn’t deserve such a sweet boyfriend

“Here—we can just cuddle instead” He offers with his arms open. You gladly accept

You spent the rest of the afternoon napping together and playing video games when you woke up

This was definitely different for him compared to his previous relationships, but he didn’t care. He loves you for you

Anya

You started dating towards the end of the trip

She’s more of a words of affection girl than a physical touch girl, which is perfect for you

At one point when things started to get a bit steamy, you finally told her

“Before this gets too far…you should know something about me”

You tell her how you feel no desire for sex but that you still love her the same. Of course she’s understanding once you explain it to her

“I appreciate that you told me”

You both have a long discussion about what is and isn’t okay in regards to your and her comfort. And you both come out of the conversation with a much better and deeper understanding of each other

Now whenever you and her get touchy, she knows exactly what to do to make you feel good without crossing the line

Curly

There was no doubt about it: You were the captain’s favourite

You spent a lot of time alone with him in the cockpit just chatting about the most random things

He definitely grew a liking to you and you to him. One day he asked you what exactly he was to you

You confessed your feelings to him and he does the same. While the moment feels amazing, you can’t help but feel worried about his reaction to your sexuality

“Hey, I should let you know–” You decide to just tell him now. “–I don’t really want this to be a sexual thing, okay?”

He’s a bit taken aback, you can clearly see that in his face. But he is by no means offended or upset

“No worries, then,” he reassures. “Thanks for telling me”

For the next few days, he was very overly cautious. He asked if you were comfortable before he gave you any kind of physical affection. It was a bit exhausting at first, but you appreciated that he cared so much

Swansea

Let’s be real: This man is old

His sex drive is almost all long gone

And he let you know this when you told him about your lack of sexual desire

“Yeah, so what?” he says gruffly and bluntly. “I’m fifty-fuckin’-six years old, sweetheart. Just thinking about sex makes my back hurt”

You were totally expecting that response. It still made you smile from ear to ear though

He wasn’t really a lovey-dovey type of guy when the others were around, but when you two were alone in his bedroom he was a lot more affectionate. Cuddles, kisses, caresses…everything he did was so gentle and comfortable

Jimmy

You’re definitely a lot closer to him than anyone else on board, even Curly

Neither of you really knew where you stood in terms of a relationship, but your “hangouts” included a lot of making out and touching

This was fine initially, but at a certain point it became too much for you

“Hold on—”You grab his wandering hand and move it off of your body

“What?” He was genuinely surprised that you stopped him

“This is going a bit too far for me”Your body tenses up, anticipating a very awkward and uncomfortable conversation

“What do you mean?” He sounded a little hurt and a bit annoyed

“I don’t…have a drive like that. I don’t want to do sexual stuff”You laid it all out for him

He was quiet for a bit. You couldn’t exactly read his face so you were starting to get a little nervous

“It’s not because of me, right?”

“No, of course not,” you reassure. “That’s just how I am”

He sighs. Whether it was out of relief or frustration you couldn’t tell

“Alright”

The atmosphere between you and him was a little awkward for the next few days. You couldn’t help but worry

“Sorry if I was being distant,” he finally told you one afternoon. “Just thinking things through”

“That’s alright” You were lying; you were a little upset that he basically ghosted you after you were so vulnerable with him, but you were willing to just let it go, at least for now

“I know you have your…thing. But I still like you”

Well that was a surprise. But a good one. Definitely a good one. You told him that you liked him back

He was a bit disappointed that he couldn’t do everything he hoped to do with you, but he still liked you a lot. Besides, he could always just “take care” of himself in private

[consouling]

I am here to lay the ground works of any potential continuations of this fic in the future, ignore any minor details at your leisure and convenience.

First, the rumours

The original rumour was that if you went into the graveyard late at night, you'd die. But that obviously didn't happen to our POV character.

Therefore, stating the obvious, someone purposefully spread false rumours about the graveyard to keep everyone away. (Probably Lady Gotham)

Alas, it did not work for our POV civilian character, who shall henceforth be known as Morgan, has infiltrated and successfully evaded the threat of death.

Of which there was no threat of in the first place.

Beause let's be real, without Vlad's soul being intertwined with Danny's, and without knowing all his friends, family, and home are dead, gone, and/or destroyed, Danny would never knowingly kill someone.

So, with Morgan 'surviving', the spreading of the new, more interesting rumour about the pretty boy turning into a monster begging to be let free is created.

For consistency, efficiency, and realism's sake, let's say Morgan is an semi-famous influencer known to be reliable with a main focus of content on debunking Gotham's many urban myths, legends, and superstitions and such.

The reason to be in the graveyard is to stake out the area for filming the next night.

Why check the site out only at night? Being an influencer is busy work, okay? Shush.

With Morgan being shaken up by The Encounter, the account stays unactive for a couple of days. Fans get worried until one notification. One post that goes *viral* titled;

'I Didn't Die in Gotham's Oldest Cemetery, But I Kinda Wish I Did'

(Valantines Day special gone horribly wrong! I kissed a ghost!!!???)

There are a couple of things the rumour could be called, but I think it's wise to best utilise the comedic potential of making fun of Danny's curious tendency to kiss everyone who comes into his graveyard unwarranted.

AKA Danny now becomes know as...

'The Harrlot'

Nicknamed simply just 'Harlot', which would be hilarious.

Second, The Batfam

They, too, like Morgan, thought the rumour of the graveyard being deadly at night was a farce as it has only been a recent rumour with unknown origins.

And they were right.

Partly

The death rumour was fake, obviously, but there was always something wrong with that graveyard.

Too quiet, too dark, too nothing.

You'd imagine that this is what outerspace would be like if you strip away all the wonder. Every star burnt out, leaving the void and you. The only comfort being the sight of the earth below you.

But now this new rumour has attracted more people, more daredevils, curious ghost hunters, and pressured teenagers. Though there are few people like this in a place like Gotham, there is enough to say the rumour is real.

The Batfam don't know if 'The Harlot' is a normal person, a meta, or an actual ghost, but they know he is real.

And therefore start to investigate the one traumatising all these people.

If we don't want Batfam, we can disregard this section entirely.

Thirdly, Danny's Origin

My personal favourite angst is a character yearning for a home that no longer exists and doesn't know their family is dead until they get their hopes too high.

So, to get this to make sense, it should neither be Good Reveal nor Bad Reveal.

Introducing, No Reveal!

After a particularly rough fight, Danny is down for the count

Jazz carries him up to his room to rest the injuries off, but the next day the Fenton parent are the ones to find him.

Not breathing

Without a heartbeat.

By then, the injuries from the last fight have fully healed, and so with no clue of how Danny got here they assume that, well,

Danny died in his sleep.

While the funeral preparations are under way, Jazz, Tucker, and Sam are trying to retrieve his body and wait for him to wake up.

They succeed. Expect he doesn't wake up.

The three of them are labelled as grieving and are put under watch to prevent them from stealing Danny's body again.

The moritcian embalmes Danny's body, and he's put into the casket where he lays to rest for an undetermined amount of time.

How his grave and/or the entirety of Amity Park's grave site ended up in Gotham? I have one single idea.

In order to make every statement in the fic/s above true, Gotham would have to be built on top of Amity Park.

What happened to Amity? Writers choice.

Why is Amity in New Jersey? Amity's placement in America has never been confirmed, so we could just *say* it was in New Jersey.

Anyway, Danny is in Gotham, entirely alone, trapped in a grave yard with no knowledge of why, where, or when he is.

He is truly

Utterly

Caged.

Kiss of Death- DCxDP prompt

A valentine horror.

Didn't matter why you were there or why you didn't run.

There was a graveyard older than Gotham itself. The names on the grave are weathered and unreadable from hundreds of years of exposure. The only reason one should come here was if you had managed to track your heritage to this gravesight after searching museum archives for burial records since the city wouldn't keep ones so old in the government building.

Unless...

You came because of the legend.

It's a new one. So it's more of an urban legend.

The story goes that the graveyard is haunted and a that anyone who comes here late at night will die. It's a simple legend, a very cliche and uncreative one at that.

But here you are. What was your goal? Ghost hunting? Graverobbing? Or perhaps your curiosity had consumed you and you had to know.

The air was thick. Like you are slowly choking on the darkness around you. Have you ever been in a room so quiet it was deafening? Like you are sure you must have lost your hearing because not even the wind would greet your ears. It was just empty space that wordlessly told you that you are alone. But that was just a room. A room that you leave and find solace in a trip of a light switch. This however was no room. It was the wide expanse of the outside world. In a place where streetlamps were not even a flicker in the minds of the residents that rest deep below your feet.

You chose a bad time to come. Perhaps you would be spared the wondering in the dark if you had the forgiving light of the moon on you. But such things were an afterthought, wasn't it? No tonight the moon was shadowed and the light of the stars would be your only salvation...but this was still Gotham. Could their light even reach you with the distant city lights over the horizon? Could the clouds mercifully move out of the way to give you some hope that you were not abandoned?

Now you were ill-prepared but you must have had some sense to at least charge your phone before you came. It's flashlight might be enough to get you back. But you're come this far. Brave or foolish you continue forward.

Until someone approached. You couldn't see them, only hear the muted footfalls of something coming near. Your ears so starved for sensation drank it like water in a dessert.

And in the light of your torch, a face appeared. A pair of baby blue eyes simmered in the light. A relieved smile on a pair of soft pale pink lips. A young man with tousled black locks appearing holding a small arm full of lilies and tulips.

"Finally, someone else. I thought I'd be here till morning." He said in relief as he came closer.

"What are you doing here?" You ask surprised that you weren't the only person here.

"I was cleaning the graves here and I must have lost track of time. Can you lead me out of here?" He asked softly and you'd hit yourself if you said no.

He clung to your arm as you walked him down the path.

The air began to get colder.

Where there was once silence you hearabout d the sound of crows beating their wings and making their wretched calls.

He clung harder to you.

That horrible curiosity got the better of you and so you began to speak.

"Why were you out here cleaning graves anyways." You asked.

"I was...helping. I come here alot." He said simply.

Nevermind the fact he was not dressed in clothes fit for cleaning. His white button-up shirt and dress pants were not something you get dirty. In fact, he didn't have a fleck of dirt on him.

"Where are your supplies?" You ask.

"I left them behind. I'll come back for them." He said curtly.

His grip on your arm tightened and it got colder.

"Just stay close please. I don't want to lose you in this darkness." He cooed.

You begin to feel lightheaded. The cold damp air made it hard to breathe.

You hear the crows...no ravens call out again.

"Never leave!" They repeated

"Trapped!" They called.

You hear a growl come from those pink lips, only they weren't pink anymore.

You look down at your companion and see a pair of bloody lips and a smile curled into a cruel but somehow sweet smile. A pair of glowing acidic green eyes that narrowed into pinpricks like a bird locking onto its prey. His once soft ebony lock now as stark white as snow caps.

You try to pull away but their grasp crushed your arm, hands like icy claws dug in.

" Where are you going?" He asked calm his eyes baring into yours.

Suddenly he did look very scary. No, he looked...so sad...so helpless and lost. His eyes where so warm and inviting.

"Don't leave me here. Help me. I promise I'll make it worth your while." His smile was so warm and inviting.

"Leave!" The ravens screeched.

"Run!" They called.

Even the screaming of the birds where drowned out as he pressed his lips to yours. It was too late. The sickly sweet scent of death and flowers filled your senses.

Why though, was his lips so cold? Why did they fill his mouth with the coppery taste of blood? Why did you feel so empty in the space you had hoped he'd fill in your heart?

But then a sharp pain struck your head and the warm trickle of blood flowed from your wound as a bird flew over your head.

You pulled away from the cloying embraces you perked in pain. And then you saw it. His face half half-rotted and skeletal. The once handsome man was a monster.

You sprinted away from him trying to frantically call someone for help on your phone. But foolish one had you forgotten. Your phone is also your flashlight and as you tried to use it you could only run blindly in the dark hoping you were still on the path. The sound of wind slicked the air behind you as you felt his icy breath on the back of your neck. You could only guess what was behind you as you heard no footsteps behind you only the feeling of being chased.

You dared not stop not even a moment and prayed that you didn't stumble. But mercy had found you as you saw the gate come into view and the solitary streetlight just beyond the boarder.

"You said you'd get me out! You can't leave me here!" A bloodcurdling screech rang out.

But you had already won as you made it out just barely with the graze of clawed fingertips at the back of your neck.

You closed the gate behind you and as you gazed into the dark abyss beyond the metal barrier you half expected it to be there. For it to snarl at you in anger watching you leave or slamming itself at the gate. But there was nothing. Not even the wind.

[moralesluvr]

FABLE AND TRUTH 6 | billie eilish

୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught…. ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. back to my regularly scheduled programming…trying to upload everyday. i’m so excited about this series and what’s in store; enjoy !! wc. 12k

✧ 4:26 am, thursday ✧

billie’s pacing felt like an endless, drunken mess, the soft padding of her socked feet on the hardwood floor the only sound filling her quiet bedroom. every step was wobbly, uneven, the thuds of harder steps sinking into the floor. her phone sat on the edge of her desk, lit up and buzzing as her thumb hovered over the call button, swaying, like even it didn’t know what it wanted. 

her chest was tight, like she couldn’t get a full breath no matter how hard she tried. 

“god, this is so stupid,” she slurred, a bitter laugh bubbling up and spilling out, “so fucking stupid.” her voice cracked halfway through, and her giggles fizzled out into silence.

she ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends as if the dull ache in her scalp could distract her from the mess inside her head. the fight played on a loop in her mind, the words that you had thrown at her cutting deeper each time she replayed them. i don’t want you. at all.

“fuck,” she muttered under her breath, stopping mid-step and leaning against her desk. her fingers curled around the edge, gripping it tight enough to make her knuckles bleed white. she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will the memory away, but it was no use.

because the thing was— she did know you. at least, she thought she did. she knew how your hands trembled when you were nervous, how your eyes darted around the room when you were thinking too hard about something, how you bit your lip when you were holding back words that you weren’t ready to say.

but now? now, billie wasn’t so sure anymore. had she been wrong about you? had she pushed too hard? maybe you were right— maybe billie didn’t know you the way she thought she did. and that realization was almost worse than the fight itself.

she tried to really think through how you were feeling, but everything was so unclear. you go out with her, kiss her, and then run off like nothing happened? she tried to hear you out, but things weren’t making sense. she felt like you were projecting, like there was something else underlying your irrationality, but she couldn’t pinpoint it. 

oh, how sorry she felt. billie felt like she had did you wrong, like she should’ve been more careful, more understanding. but she knew that she couldn’t change what she did, what was said— it was all too late now.

she really liked you, if that wasn’t obvious enough. but given the way you placed your faith above anything else, the way that you carried yourself, she knew that deep down, you could never be interested in someone like her. and she couldn't blame you, she just didn’t fit into your lifestyle. 

she didn’t mean to make you feel like she was wrecking your morals, but she couldn’t stop herself. her crush blossomed when you two talked, and even more when you didn’t. because then, her imagination could roam. she could think of a world where she belonged in yours, where you two were absolutely inseparable. she could pretty much ponder about whatever she wanted, and if she thought long and hard enough, she could convince herself it was real. 

she had only met you shy of a week ago, and that was the bad part. usually, billie was more stoic, careful with what she said and did. she couldn’t let herself fall to easily, but it was like she was starstruck by you. 

and she hated it. 

she hated that everytime she got around you, she couldn’t get that stupid grin off of her face. she hated that when you touched her, even if it was on accident, her skin would light up, identical to the way her eyes did when she looked at you. she hated that your opinion was the only thing that mattered to her— but most of all, she hated how much she didn’t hate you.

because, in reality, she should. you hated her back, and that should’ve been a good enough reason for her to hate you, right? 

wrong. 

she wanted to chase after you, no matter how many times you’ve told her to stop, to let you go, pushing her away. she was drawn to you no matter what you did to her, and that’s what billie despised. whatever you did, said, however you acted— it was never enough to get her to stop. 

but a little sliver of her understood. she knew deep down that it was just how you were— a faithful Christian and a girl who hardly believed, how was that going to work?

it was just the principle, she thought. it was just how things were going to be. but at the same time, she wished you would at least try. try to let her in— she wouldn’t hurt you, and she was certain that you knew that. you just weren’t brave enough to give it a try. 

and then, she was angry. 

angry at how you stormed off, after you were the one to kiss her. she was angry at how you pretended like everything between you was just friendship, but billie saw the way you looked at her when you thought she didn’t notice. yeah, she saw that. 

she saw everything. and it made her even more upset, because how could you just walk away, after everything that had happened?

billie chewed on the inside of her cheek, her gaze flicking to the phone again. her stomach twisted at the thought of pressing that button, of hearing your voice again, of maybe making things worse. but she had to try. she couldn’t let it end like this, not after everything. it was too easy to give up, and she wouldn’t have it. she needed to make things right.

just call her, she told herself, but her fingers wouldn’t move. her head was loud, so loud, her thoughts a jumbled mess of regret and anger and confusion. she needed answers, needed to understand why things had unraveled so fast, why you had kissed her and then pushed her away so violently, all in the same breath.

and, if she was being honest with herself, she needed to know if there was still something left between you two. if the thread that had always connected you hadn’t completely snapped, if there was something worth saving. 

billie took a deep, shaky breath and reached for her phone. her eyes hovered over your profile picture, your pretty smile illuminating her screen. she almost broke at that, and she shook her shoulders to try and shake it, her thumb hovering over the call button for a second that felt like an eternity. then, with a quiet exhale, she pressed it.

she held the phone to her ear, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure it would drown out the ringing. once, twice, three times— it felt endless. and just as she was about to lose her nerve and hang up, the call connected.

“…hello?”

your voice was soft, hesitant, and billie’s breath caught in her throat. she clenched her jaw, trying to steady herself, but the cracking in her hushed breathing gave her away. she could feel the tension on the other side of the line, and she almost spoke to break it, but then she heard a voice. 

“no, dude— hang up!”

“shit.” was all she heard you say before the line went dead. 

billie almost lost her mind at that, and she threw her phone harshly onto her bed, cursing underneath her breath. it didn’t take a genius to know who was talking in the background, obviously it was emma. 

so your friends hated her, too? what else was new? 

she sat down on the edge of her bed, her hands dragging through her hair, fingers curling at the roots. the sting in her scalp didn’t compare to the tightness in her chest, like her ribs were caving in on her lungs. her jaw ticked, her gaze locked on the phone lying motionless on the bed. it just sat there, mocking her, your contact still opened. 

“unbelievable,” she muttered, the word heavy with frustration. her mind wouldn’t stop replaying it— emma’s sharp voice, that venom-laced “hang up.”

of course, it was emma. always hovering, always protective, like some unspoken barrier between you and everyone else. billie got it— she really did. emma was just looking out for you. but that didn’t make it any less maddening. it didn’t make the rejection hurt any less.  

her knee started bouncing as she leaned forward, her elbows on her thighs, her head in her hands. every second of that call was burned into her mind, every pause, every breath, every muffled sound from your end.  

why? why couldn’t you just talk to her? why did you have to listen to emma, let her speak for you like you didn’t have your own mind?  

but then, in the quiet of her room, another thought crept in, unwelcome and sharp. maybe you don’t want to talk to her. maybe you really mean it when you say you don’t want her.

the thought twisted in her gut, and she stood up abruptly, pacing the room again like it would help, but it really didn’t. nothing did. the same questions looped in her head, over and over, no answers in sight.  

she wanted to be mad at you, to hold onto the anger, but it didn’t stick. because she knew. she knew how you looked at her when you thought she wasn’t paying attention, she knew the way your voice got quieter, softer, when it was just the two of you. she knew the way your lips lingered just a second too long when you kissed her.  

and maybe that’s why it hurt so much. because she couldn’t be making all of that up. could she? could she really be the only one who was feeling like this? was everything unrequited, or were you just afraid? 

billie eventually stopped pacing, only because her legs were aching from doing so. her hands found themselves on her hips, her eyes fixed on her phone like it might come alive and give her the answers she was too afraid to ask for. but all it did was sit there, silent, just like you.  

“why’d you kiss me if you didn’t want me?” she mumbled, her words thick, slurred. her voice cracked again, and she let out a shaky breath, “why’d you—” she started, but she couldn’t finish. her throat tightened, and she felt the tears spill over, hot against her flushed cheeks.

billie found herself sinking onto the floor, curled up in her own frame, trying to keep her emotions at bay and her swirling mind at rest. but she was too tired of thinking, too tired to try and make things seem rational. she was over it, over everything.

she thinks back to the night that she first met you, though everything’s kind of choppy. she thinks about when she told you that she didn’t really believe in getting drunk to solve your problems, or to pretend that things were better then they seem. but now, it seems like those morals aren’t as strong as they were. 

she fumbled for the bottle of tequila she’d left on the floor, her fingers slipping a few times before she managed to grab it. the glass was almost empty, but she tipped it back anyway, the last dregs burning slightly as they slid down her throat.

“god, i’m such a fucking mess,” she said to no one, her giggles bitter and hollow. she wiped at her face with the sleeve of her hoodie, but it didn’t help much, because tears still streamed down her cheeks.

you were all she could think about. you, with your stupid soft voice and your stupid pretty face and your stupid everything. it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair that you got to live rent-free in her head while she was falling apart over you.

her phone buzzed again, and her head snapped toward it, her heart lurching in her chest. she scrambled to grab it, almost dropping it in her drunken haste. but when she saw the screen, her stomach sank. it wasn’t you. of course it wasn’t.

“why won’t you just talk to me?” she asked aloud, though you weren’t there to hear it. her voice cracking again, “why won’t you just tell me how you feel?”

sobs shoot through her body, and she’s sure this is the hardest she’s ever cried before. but she couldn’t help it. with the help of the alcohol that was coursing through her veins, plus the confusion and the fight, it was all she could do. 

she cries until her eyes are too tired to form more tears. she cries until her eyes are drained and her throat is scratchy, and she finally sits up, her back slumped against the wall.

her chest heaved with each deep breath that she took, her hands trembling as she gripped the phone like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. the screen dimmed, and she stared at your name, willing it to light up with a call, a message— anything. but it didn’t. it stayed still, cold and indifferent, mocking her desperation.

“what the hell is wrong with you?” she muttered, her words slurred. she wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or to you anymore, to be honest.

“why do you— why do you get to walk away like that? like you didn’t…like you didn’t kiss me first. so fuckin’ rude.”

her grip on the phone tightened, her jaw clenching as her tears dried, replaced by something hotter, angrier. she pushed herself off the floor, stumbling slightly as she paced the room again. her head was spinning, from the alcohol and the heartbreak, but her anger was sharp and steady, a beacon in her haze.

“you kissed me,” she said aloud, her voice louder now, more forceful, “you kissed me, and then you acted like— like it didn’t mean anything. like i didn’t mean anything.”

her fists curled at her sides, and she kicked the edge of her desk in frustration, wincing as the sharp pain shot through her foot. but it didn’t stop her, it didn’t even slow her down. she kept pacing, “you’re so fucking unfair,” she hissed, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. “you—ugh!”

she turned to her bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it across the room with all the strength she could muster. it hit the wall with a dull thud, but it didn’t satisfy her, didn’t even come close. 

“why are you like this?” she yelled, though careful not to wake any of her neighbors up. her voice cracks again, “why do you get to mess with my head, make me feel like…like i’m not enough?”

her knees wobbled, and she sank onto the sheets of her bed, her hands burying in her hair. the anger drained as quickly as it had come, leaving her exhausted, empty. her thoughts spiraled, looping back to you, always to you. the fight, the kiss, the way your voice had trembled when you said her name.

and then— quickly, her mind wandered, unbidden, to the bar. to the way your lips had curled when you threw that sharp, biting remark at her. to the way your eyes burned with frustration, your voice rising in a way she’d never heard before. and— god, the way you had sworn at her, the first time you’d ever done that. it shouldn’t have made her feel the way it did, but nevertheless, it did. she hated how hot it was, how the word rolled off your tongue like a challenge, like a dare.

“billie, would you just shut the fuck up?”

yeah, she was whipped.

billie groaned, her hands dragging down her face as she pulled her navy blue covers over her frame. the ceiling spun above her, and she fluttered her eyes closed, but that didn’t really help. all she could see was you. your lips, your eyes, the way your hand had brushed hers whenever she was patching you up in her car. it had been such an innocent touch, but it had set her skin on fire, left her wanting more.

she cursed under her breath, her mind betraying her as it conjured up images of you. not the angry, distant version of you from the fight, but the softer, quieter version. the one who laughed at her dumb jokes, her teasing nicknames, it was all you. you who leaned closer than necessary when you spoke, who looked at her like she was the only person in the room, which always made her feel better, way warmer, even if your intentions were innocent. she thought about the version of you who kissed her like you meant it, like you wanted her as much as she wanted you.

her breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as her thoughts grew more vivid, more dangerous. she could still feel the ghost of your lips on hers, the way your fingers had curled into her jacket like you didn’t want to let go. she wanted to believe that version of you was real, that it wasn’t just a figment of her drunk, desperate imagination.

“shit,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she threw an arm over her face, trying to block out the images, the feelings, but it was no use. they kept crawling back into her conscience, no matter how hard she tried to kick them out. you were everywhere, in every thought, every breath, every beat of her pounding heart.

she hated how much she wanted you. hated how, even now, after everything, she couldn’t stop craving your touch, your voice, your laugh. hated how her body betrayed her, how the memory of you swearing at her sent a shiver down her spine, made her stomach twist in that familiar, dangerous way. it made her whole body set ablaze, tingles and rushes of adrenaline tangled within her nerves.

billie’s arm slid off her face slow and choppy as she let out a long, frustrated sigh, staring blankly at the ceiling that made her eyes spin. her thoughts were a mess, tangling and then untangling, looping back to the way your voice sounded— sharp, angry, and utterly captivating. she hated herself for it, for how much she liked the way you challenged her, even when it hurt her. 

she shouldn’t like it this much.

you were always so calm, so composed, so measured in everything you did. but at the bar, you were raw and unfiltered. the way your lips had pressed into a thin line, the way your eyes blazed with frustration— it wasn’t something she’d ever seen from you before, and gosh, it did something to her. it was like you had cracked open, showing her a side of you that no one else got to see.

“get it together,” billie muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair. but it was useless. her mind was already spiraling, drawn back to the memory of you leaning over the table, your voice low and heated as you argued with her. there was a fire in your eyes, a passion she hadn’t expected, and it had set something alight in her, too.

and that kiss. man, that kiss. she could still feel it, the way your lips had pressed against hers, hesitant at first but quickly growing bolder. it wasn’t soft or sweet— it was urgent, messy, like you were trying to pour everything you felt into it. like you were saying all the things you couldn’t put into words.

billie groaned, turning on her side as heat crept up her neck. she was drunk, sure, but even she couldn’t blame the alcohol for the way her thoughts lingered on you. on the way your hands had trembled slightly when you kissed her, the way your breath had hitched when she pulled you closer.

she couldn’t blame the alcohol, because this wasn’t the first time she had these thoughts. 

her chest ached with memory, a mixture of longing and regret swirling inside her. she wanted to be angry, to stay mad at you for storming off, for listening to emma, for acting like she didn’t matter to you. but she couldn’t. because deep down, she knew that wasn’t the whole truth. she knew there was more to it, more to you.

maybe that’s what scared her the most. not that you didn’t care about her, but that you did— and that you were too afraid to let yourself feel it.

“you’re such an idiot,” she whispered out, though she wasn’t sure if she was talking about you or herself. maybe both.

her cheeks flushed, a baby pink hue finding its way onto her cheeks, playing on her features like some sick game. she was way past embarrassed, but she was alone, and it didn’t seem as bad as it really was. 

without thinking, billie sank deeper within the cushioning of her bed, her fingers grazing over the hem of her gingham shorts, her breath hitching. she stopped for a second, trying to think hard about what she was doing, but the alcohol forbade her from staying on track.

eventually, her mind couldn’t help but wander, identical to the way her fingers ventured down her thighs, grazing them with her fingertips in a slow, vertical fashion, until she made it back to the scrunched waistband. and with swift movements, she slid her shorts off of her legs, pushing them through the covers until they found themselves on the floor.

billie took her sweet time, at first, just toying with the outer corners of her lacy black panties, pulling at the semi-circle flowers on the ends. she closed her eyes, letting herself drown in all the events of the night, the heated flirting, the way you had kissed her so passionately in the passenger seat.

she shouldn’t be thinking about you like this, not after everything. not after the way you walked out, leaving her standing in the middle of that bar, a mess of confusion and longing. but deep down, she couldn’t let go. she liked the fuel, like a moth to a flame, she was drawn to you. she couldn’t help herself. 

she couldn’t help the way her hands moved to slide her underwear down to her ankles, kicking the article of clothing off and down to the floor, along with her discarded shorts. a sudden rush of cool air made her let out a small gasp, the breath low and sultry as she pulled the covers closer.

she wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but billie was always easier to turn on when she was drunk. and with recent events, it wasn’t helping the heat that was burning in her lower abdomen. 

she traced a finger over her sensitive core, and then adding another, before pushing her slit open slowly, webs of wetness latching onto her fingertips as she let out a cool, choppy moan. 

this was awful, so very wrong— to touch herself while thinking about you, especially now. but you didn’t have to know, no one did, and that’s the logic she used to satisfy her greed, her hunger for you, her constant need to see you, touch you. 

billie spread her legs as she slipped her fingers inside of her warm cunt, the digits stretching out her walls sweetly as her thumb latched onto her clit, rubbing tight and firm circles against it. every thought of your pretty face, of your tooth-aching sweet smile, your precious eyes— that was what fueled her to keep touching herself, to feel those ground-breaking tingles against her exposed skin. 

she bit her lip, her hips bucking underneath her satin sheets as her fingers thrusted quicker into her pussy, though her movements were choppy and uneven— it still felt good. she kept thinking about you, unashamed now, your face etched into her memory as she fought to keep her moans at bay. 

she thanked the heavens that she didn’t have a roommate.

beads of sweat formed onto billie’s back as her head sinks into her pillow, little whimpers passing through her reddened, plump lips, her movements quickening as she felt a tight knot from in her stomach. images of you flashed against her mind, like gasoline to a fire, stoking up the adrenaline that was entangled in her veins. her fingertips curl and graze against her sweet spot, angelic moans falling thin and weak in the air as she moaned out, little syllables of your name rolling off of your tongue. 

it was so bad, but it felt so good. she was needy, eager, and that was obvious in the way that her hips lifted off of her covers, her hands sliding in and out of her wet pussy, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt her orgasm crash over her like a warm wave. she panted heavily, her movements slowing down, along with her breaths.

billie placed her back against the sheets and let out a long, unsteady breath, her eyes finding themselves at the thought of what she just did. but she’s too drunk and too exhausted to care, and she figures that she’ll deal with the repercussions tomorrow. so she flips onto her side, pulls the covers over her, and falls asleep.

✧ 11:05 am, saturday ✧

the dorm was alive with energy, the kind that only comes on a lazy saturday morning when no one’s in a rush to be anywhere. sunlight streamed in through the half-open blinds, casting soft patterns on the carpeted floors as the group sprawled out in various spots around emma’s and your small room. naomi was perched cross-legged on your desk chair, spinning lazily while scrolling through her phone, one earbud in. jules was on the floor, back against the bedframe, fiddling with the frayed edges of her ripped jeans while flipping through some fashion magazine. oliver had claimed the beanbag in the corner, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he leaned back, relaxed. and emma— well, emma was laying half asleep underneath your covers, waking every once in a while when someone would say something funny, and then she’d lay back down.

you sat on your bed, legs tucked underneath you, careful not to disturb emma. your hands clasped around a warm mug of tea, a small comfort, the heat grounding you as your thoughts buzzed louder than the conversation around you. everyone was talking about their plans for the day— emma wanted to hit the library for an upcoming paper, oliver was trying to convince naomi to come with him to a record store downtown, and jules was debating between joining them or staying behind to binge a new show. after individual plans, though, jules insisted that you all hang out and go roller skating, something that the five of you liked to do pretty often. 

“you’re quiet this morning,” naomi said, her voice cutting through the noise as she turned her gaze toward you.

your head snapped up, startled, and you forced a small smile, “i didn’t sleep well at all. just exhausted.”

it wasn’t a lie, you truly hadn’t slept well at all. after the bar fight with billie just shy of three days ago, you weren’t really feeling all that great. you hadn’t talked to her since, and it was both a relief and extremely nauseating. 

you missed her, deep down. but you knew it was an absolutely horrible idea to reach out, and start this sickening process all over again. you were making small but victorious progress, and you really didn’t want to take any chances at ruining that. 

after the fight, you woke up with a headache that made you feel like your forehead was going to split wide open. you threw up twice, your throat burning as you had finally wiped your lips, standing above the toilet and flushing it. emma had held your hair back for you, giving you tips on how to never throw up when hungover, at least for a lightweight like you. but if you were being honest, it didn’t really interest you to get drunk ever again. 

you had prayed and did Bible study for what felt like an eternity. you didn’t hear God speak, but you figured it was because you had strayed off your path, so the fault settled on you. but you wrote in your notebook diligently, said your prayers thoughtfully, and skimmed the pages of your devotionals carefully. in due time, no matter what was going on, you were sure He would answer.

you even called loretta, as you had missed one of your calls when you fell asleep. she was just calling to check in, and she could tell even through the phone that you were doing at least a little better. 

you had to admit, you were proud of yourself for getting back on your feet. or, so it seemed.

it appeared to everyone else like you had somehow become completely fine. and you had, for a solid…five minutes. but, of course, all the doubts and ‘what-ifs’ began to creep back in. 

you weren’t sleeping well at all, which was the first issue. you’d stay up glued to your studies or scrolling on pinterest until your eyes were burning and your skin was sweating from the constant tossing and turning. and when you finally would fall asleep, you’d wake up with headaches or your limbs tense and unstretched. 

you didn’t have the slightest bit of energy to do anything, either. you were doing just enough to keep A’s in all your classes, neglecting most of the extra work that your teachers assigned, only taking the extra mile when absolutely needed. 

but you were masking it well. you took small victories when you could, although, you felt a little empty. you were tighter with your friends, hanging out almost everyday, mainly as a healthy distraction. but sometimes, all you really wanted, was billie. 

you fought tooth and nail not to pick up your phone and call her. to spill every detail of your life out to her, to update her on how things were, even if they weren’t good. it was killing you that you couldn’t speak to her, even if it was a decision that you had made. 

you didn’t like that you had the upper hand in this situation. you wished that it had fell back on billie, because although it was selfish, you really wished that you could have one less thing on your plate. deep down, you honestly wished that you had never met her at all. 

you were doing fine until she came into the picture. though you knew she didn’t mean you any harm, you were picking up the pieces that she caused to crumble, making you spiral and act irrational, something you would’ve never thought about doing in the past.

but it wasn’t all her fault, you couldn’t put the blame on her. you were there too, and you had to take ownership of that, even though it was hard. 

jules and naomi had raised an eyebrow at your statement like they didn’t quite believe you, but they didn’t press. instead, the both turned her attention back to oliver, who was now trying to win the both of them over with promises of coffee and pastries in order to go record shopping with him.

you tried to focus on their loud, happy chatter, to let it pull you out of your own head, but it was no use. your thoughts were stuck, looping in a way that made your chest feel tight.

you thought about two nights ago, about coming out.

the words lingered in your mind, heavy and sharp. it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it recently, you had, a lot— but thinking about it and actually doing it were two very different things. and with naomi and jules sitting just a few feet away, laughing and joking like nothing was wrong, the weight of it all felt unbearable.

emma and oliver already knew, and were doing exceptionally well at hiding it. they understood that it was something you would share when you were ready, and they vowed to keep quiet about it. naomi and jules were wondering about the awkward tension that was taking place before, as you weren’t texting or calling pretty much at all. but emma just shrugged it off, covering by saying you were going through a rough time and just needed a second to breathe. which, wasn’t all that false. 

you glanced at them, at the easy way they moved through the world, at how free they seemed. naomi, with her loud, unapologetic laugh and her wild hair that framed her face like a halo. jules, with her sharp wit and soft smile that could disarm anyone in an instant. they were your bestest of friends, and yet, the idea of telling them felt impossible.

it wasn’t that you didn’t trust them— you did, more than anyone. but there was this nagging voice in the back of your mind, whispering all the worst-case scenarios, how’d they react. what if they didn’t understand? what if they looked at you differently? what if it changed everything?

and then there was your faith, tangled up in all of it like a knot you couldn’t undo. you’d grown up in the church, surrounded by sermons and scripture and songs that painted the world beautifully, but it was in black and white. you’d been taught that love was normal to desire, it was healthy, but only when it looked a certain way, fit into a certain mold. anything outside of that was wrong, sinful, unworthy.

you swallowed hard, the taste of the tea suddenly bitter on your tongue. it wasn’t that you didn’t believe anymore— you still did, in your own way. but reconciling your faith with who you were, with how you felt, was a battle you fought every single day, and it was hard to keep on track, if you were being completely honest. 

“you okay?” naomi’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to find her watching you, her head tilted slightly in concern.

“yeah,” you said quickly, forcing another smile. “just zoning out. i need to get out of this dorm room.”

she seemed to accept that, nodding as she turned back to oliver, who was now listing off his favorite bands like his life depended on it.

you let out a quiet breath, grateful for the reprieve, but still feeling the weight in your chest.

emma caught your eye from across the room, her expression soft but questioning. she always seemed to know when something was off, even if she didn’t say it out loud, which was needed sometimes. it was one of the reasons you’d told her first, days prior, in the quiet of this very room. she’d taken it well, better than you’d expected, and you were thankful for that. but even her quiet support wasn’t enough to silence the doubts that clawed at you.

the conversation in the room shifted again, this time to lunch plans, and you nodded along when someone suggested the diner a few blocks away, your group’s spot. looks were shared between all of you, and it seemed like everyone had remembered that night that billie came in. but when you smile, and assured them that it was okay to go, they carried on. but your mind was still elsewhere, caught between the fear of staying silent and the terror of speaking up.

you wondered what it would feel like to finally let it out, to let them see all of you. would it be freeing? or would it be just as heavy, just as hard, but in a different way?

“alright, you sure you’re good?” emma asked quietly, leaning closer so only you could hear.

you nodded, your grip tightening around your mug as you took your last swig, the warmth making you feel slightly more at ease, “i’m okay, really,” you said softly, “i’m honestly just… thinking. you know how it is.”

she didn’t push, just gave you a small nod of understanding before straightening up again, making sure to include you in the conversation between the five of you.

“alright, i really think we should just go skating,” jules advocates from her spot on the floor, closing her magazine, “we all love skating. why don’t we do that?”

“because naomi here is like bambi on wheels.” oliver snorts, pointing to the purple-haired girl, and she gifts him a well-deserved, playful slap to the arm. 

emma nods, “i don’t think skating’s a bad idea, i’m down. everyone’s already ready, so, when are we heading out?”

“just need to get dressed, and then we can go.” you say, pulling the covers off of your frame, standing up and heading over to your dresser. you fumble around for something to wear as the four behind you discuss what’s for lunch, and things of that sort. you eventually settle on a jean skirt and a white top to match, with a baby pink cardigan thrown over it. you turn around and show the group your outfit, holding the pieces up to your body to provide something to the imagination, “this cute?”

“adorable!” naomi grins, and the others agree, too, and oliver gives you a sweet thumbs up, which makes you smile. you grab your phone off of your desk and slip into emma’s room, since you figure that changing in there would take less time than walking to the bathrooms.

you close the door behind you, and you look around for a second. emma’s room is a complete contrast to yours— cheetah printed blankets, posters of lana del rey and other singers hung up on her walls, right next to her deep red electric guitar and shelves of different sneakers and expensive handbags. she had a bookcase dedicated to anything but books, it was mostly filled with perfumes, fashion mags, and candles. her desk was a mess, makeup everywhere, and trash anywhere but in the bin, but you admired her style. it was an oddly warm comfort to you, the difference of style, and that’s what you always loved about emma— she was so unlike you, and yet, you two were the perfect set of friends. 

you found her mirror and stood in front of it, slipping off your matching pj set and quickly sliding today’s outfit on. you fixed your hair and toyed with the ends, curling them around your fingers to give their already kinky state a little bit more bounce. 

when you were satisfied with your appearance, you twisted the doorknob and stepped out, doing a little twist for the group as they all cheered. you felt more welcomed than ever— appreciated, accepted, and you wanted it to stay like that, like how it always was. 

but with this huge secret (although it wasn’t so huge, because emma and oliver knew), you didn’t know how long this would last. you were going to latch onto it as long as you could, hoping and praying that when the time came, you would still be loved as you were, before everything went down. 

you knew your best friends, they wouldn’t really care all that much, but it would just be so unexpected coming from you. were you ready for that, truly? were you ready to live out the things you had always felt? you weren’t too sure now. 

you walked back over to your desk, slipping your nearly dead phone into your bag as you leaned against the edge of it, trying to find some sort of calm. the room was filled with chatter, naomi arguing with jules over whether or not they should try the new sandwich spot downtown or stick to the diner, and oliver chiming in with some random fact about artisan bread that seemed nice to try. emma was scrolling through her phone, half-listening but still throwing in a laugh here and there. it was so normal, nothing out of the blue, but you felt this strange ache in your chest.

you thought about how emma and oliver already knew that you were a lesbian, how it had felt like peeling off a bandage and exposing something raw when you’d told them just a few days ago. emma had hugged you tight, whispering that she was proud of you, and oliver had just nodded, his usual soft, understanding smile on his face, cracking jokes back and forth with you. but then, that night after billie called you, it all hit you like a wave.

you didn’t mean to hang up so abruptly. you wanted to hear her out at first, but you quickly realized that it wasn’t a good idea. emma had urged you to hang up, and you did with no hesitation, suddenly realizing that answering in itself was a mistake. 

it wracked your brain for the rest of the night, and it bothered you badly that you couldn’t talk to billie. you felt like at least one more conversation could help, but it was too late for that, and you had to put yourself first. so you put your phone up for the night, falling asleep not to long after emma did. 

and then, you cried. 

but not about billie. about your friends.

it wasn’t even that you were scared of rejection. you knew naomi and jules loved you like family, and you couldn’t imagine them turning their backs on you. but it was the shift you feared— this tiny, delicate balance being thrown off, even if just for a moment. you hated being the reason things felt different. you hated the idea of anyone looking at you like you were someone else now.

your fingers toyed with the strap of your bag as the thought settled in your mind like an unwelcome guest. it wasn’t fair, really, how much weight this little not-so-big secret carried. it was supposed to feel freeing, like shedding an old skin that didn’t fit anymore, blossoming into something new, and much more beautiful. but instead, it felt like walking on a tightrope, praying you wouldn’t fall and drag everyone else down with you. you couldn’t let that happen again.

emma’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the moment. “you okay?” she mouthed, her brows knitting together slightly. it’s all she seemed to ask now, but you appreciated the sentiment. you nodded quickly, offering a small smile to reassure her, but the way she tilted her head told you she wasn’t convinced. she didn’t push you, though, she just gave you that look that said i’m here when you’re ready.

and you wanted to be ready, for all of it. for the conversations, the questions, the vulnerability, all the jokes that would be cracked. you wanted to be able to say everything with confidence, to look at yourself in the mirror and feel like you weren’t hiding anymore, like you were proud to be just the way you were. but there was still that small, stubborn part of you that whispered, what if you’re wrong? what if this isn’t who you’re supposed to be? is a phase, something that will pass when the time comes?

you pushed the thought aside, swallowing hard as you forced yourself to focus on the present. the laughter in the room, the warmth of your friends, the way everyone was bickering about oliver’s odd knowledge about sandwiches and bread. you let yourself laugh, even if it felt a little hollow, because you were sure, slowly yet surely, it would make you feel better.

you’d hold onto this moment, this fragile, fleeting sense of normalcy. you’d hold onto it for as long as you could, and when the time came to tell them, you’d trust that naomi and jules would still love you, still see you the same way that they always did. at least, that’s what you prayed for. and lately, that was all you could do.

“okay, so are we ready to go, or are we gonna argue about sandwiches all day?” emma said, rolling her eyes with a grin as she grabbed her keys off of your nightstand, standing up to dust off her wide legged jeans. naomi and jules were still in a heated, albeit playful teasing sesh against oliver, and he was just sitting on the arm of the couch, shaking his head at them.

“for the record,” he interjected, raising his hand like he was in a courtroom, “the sandwich shop idea isn’t bad. but if we’re talking about lunch and activities, why not just roller skating now? we can grab lunch and still get dinner at the diner. there’s that rink a few blocks from here, and they’ve got a food court with, you know, options. not just flavorless-ass bread that’s probably already stale.” he gave a pointed look at naomi and jules.

“skating?” you repeated, “okay, yeah, i’m down.”

“me too,” emma said, already grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, “besides, i can’t wait to see naomi bust her ass out there. wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen that, hm?”

naomi gasped, clutching her chest dramatically, “okay, excuse me! i have impeccable balance, so thank you very much.”

“uh-huh,” jules snorted, already pulling her jacket on, zipping it up as she let out a mocking laugh, “we’ll see how long that lasts when you’re out there, bambi.”

the group laughed as you all filed out of the dorm, everyone grabbing their belongings as you closed and locked the door behind you, and then the walk started. emma, jules and naomi walked up front, while you and oliver retreated to the back, following close behind them. you heard easy banter filling the air as you all walked outside, stepping out into the cool air, though the warm sun gave hints of a warmer afternoon. 

“how are you feeling?” oliver asked you as you walked, his eyes glancing down to meet with yours. they were glossed over with concern, but it was out of love, so you spoke honestly. 

“good, overall, i think. i really have no complaints— i just…you know. i get into my own head sometimes.”

oliver nods at you, “i get that. just remember, i’m always here if you need something, ‘girlfriend.’” he nudges your arm on that last part, and you shake your head at him, though you can’t help but laugh.

the walk to the skating rink was a short one, but it was peaceful. occasionally, everyone would turn around and talk, and jules would sometimes snap a picture of a cool tree or pretty flowers on her digital camera. you stayed toward the back of the group, letting their energy pull you along while you kept to your thoughts.

when you all arrived at the rink, the hum of retro music and the buzz of people skating hit you instantly, accompanied with the smell of pretzels and store-bought pizzas. the place had an old-school charm— bright neon signs, colorful lights that reflected off the fresh, polished floor, and rows of skates lined up behind the counter as employees waved the five of you in. 

“this is gonna be so fun!” naomi cheered, her face lighting up as she clapped her hands together. she then looked at emma, who seemed all but convinced that naomi would stay on her feet, “and just for the record, i’m gonna be the best one out there. no questions asked.”

“uh huh, yeah— you’re really committed to this narrative, huh naomi?” emma teased as she slipped a ticket across the counter in exchange for her inlines, “we’ll see how you do, but don’t cry when i’m doing laps around you while your ass is super-glued to the floor.”

everyone laughed at that as they grabbed their skates, and you were last to do so. you grabbed a pair of quads and took a seat on the bench, slipping them onto your feet carefully. emma was already up and skating around, practicing whatever tricks that she had hidden up her sleeve. 

whenever she had to clear her head, she’d go to the rink— something she had been doing since she was younger. that’s where you learned how to skate, from emma’s constant visits to your rink back home, and it felt like that you had a hobby you could both share.

when everyone was ready, the group shuffled out onto the rink, the polished floor gleaming beneath the flashing lights. it was awkward at first, your legs feeling wobbly and unsure as you gripped the railing for support. it wasn’t that you didn’t know how to skate, it had just been so long, but you picked up your pace when emma and jules grabbed both your sides and forced you out onto the floor. 

“you got this!” jules had said, and then you three were off, hands laced within one another’s, skating rhythmically to some old song that was playing on the speakers above.

“look at you!” emma called out, gliding up beside you with ease after you and jules had broke off, skating at your own pace. you were twisting and turning like you usually did, the art becoming more comfortable to you, and you were enjoying yourself.  “you’re not even holding on to the wall anymore! i’m so proud.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, laughing as you pushed off your right food little harder, gaining more speed with each loop around the rink, “just don’t jinx it.”

everyone was pretty much skating alone now. you were doing your usual thing, crossing your feet and gliding side to side to the music, which was always fun for you. emma was on a roll— skating backwards between crowds of people, hopping on her feet, taking her party tricks to the extra mile. jules and oliver were racing, as they always did— and of course, jules won, also as always. 

meanwhile, naomi was loudly declaring herself the queen of skating, much to jules’s amusement as she stumbled and nearly fell. you tried to contain your laughter, but you had to admit, it was pretty funny the way she swore up and down she was the best out of the group, though she hadn’t even found herself making a full lap around the floor yet.

you were skating peacefully as a new song came on, something by stevie wonder, which you liked. you started to slow down and accommodate to the blue-sy rhythm, but then, as you rounded the far side of the rink, your eyes caught a figure near the edge. your breath hitched in your throat, your heart dropping to your stomach. it was billie.

God, could you ever get away from this girl?

she was sitting on a bench, tying her skates with that familiar furrow of concentration on her face. her hair was pulled into one of the messiest buns you had ever seen, even for her, though a few pieces effortlessly accented her face around the sides. she was wearing a loose sweatshirt and a pair of shorts so long that you couldn’t tell if they were supposed to be like that. but, to your surprise, she was alone.

panic flared in your chest, and if you weren’t as comfortable with skating, you were sure that you would’ve fallen. your mind was racing as you quickly turned your head away, trying to keep her from seeing you. the last thing you needed was another interaction, another moment where she could belittle you, looking at you with that stupid grin that never seemed to leave her face, like she was always teasing you for something. 

you skated past her as casually as you could manage, your heart pounding in your chest. you felt like you were going to burst, like your breath was stolen right out of your lungs. you heaved as you looked in front of you, where your friends were still laughing and teasing each other, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in your stomach.

you felt sick.

you risked a glance over your shoulder, relief washing over you when you saw that billie hadn’t noticed you. she was still focused on her skates, completely oblivious to your presence. which, you definitely wanted to keep it that way.

you tried to focus on your friends, on the way naomi shrieked as she nearly toppled over again, after falling nearly ten times already, but she was saved only by oliver’s quick reflexes as he grabbed her arm. 

“you owe me for that,” he teased, smirking at her as she tried to compose herself, tucking a strand behind her ear.

“whatever, i was totally fine. i could’ve gotten back up.” naomi huffed, wiping a few particles of dust off of her shirt as she stood up.

“sure you were,” jules said, rolling up beside her, her grin wide and mischievous, “next time, maybe we should get you those little kid trainers, you know, the ones with wheels on all four corners? seems pretty fitting if you ask me.”

“you’re all so mean to me!” naomi cried dramatically, though the laughter bubbling in her voice gave her away. she didn’t mind that she couldn’t skate all that well, truthfully, but it was always fun to mess around for a while. 

the lightness of their banter helped ease some of the tension in your chest, and for a moment, you let yourself get swept up in it. emma had started a race with jules now, the two of them zipping around the rink in an uncoordinated blur, while oliver stayed back with naomi, coaching her like a patient older brother, though she still wasn’t quite getting it.

you skated in slow, deliberate circles, careful not to look in billie’s direction again. you didn’t want to tempt fate, not again.

but it wasn’t just fear that made you keep your distance. it was the weight of everything you’d been trying to leave behind— the fight, the tears, the way her voice still lingered in your head, sharp and biting, but also soft in ways that made your chest ache.

you couldn’t reminisce on that though. you had to stay focused on what really mattered, and it wasn’t billie. it was you, your happiness, your walk with God, and everything else that surrounded that. you didn’t have time to pick more stupid fights with her, when she would not and could not ever understand where you were coming from.

“you’re doing great, by the way,” oliver called out, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. he had left naomi with emma, though her coaching wasn’t as gentle. your eyes immediately find oliver’s as he skates with you, and you cock your brow at him, still nervous.

“what…what do you mean?” you ask.

oliver rolls his eyes, “i saw her. the others didn’t, and don’t worry, i won’t snitch. but just ignore her, for your own sake. you deserve nothing but peace right now, so don’t let her disturb that.”

“right, yeah.” you nod, but it sounds weak, even to your own ears. you’re just moving, fighting for a distraction, focusing on finding a steady rhythm again. the music shifted to something slower, softer, and the lights dimmed slightly, casting the rink in a warm glow. couples started pairing off, holding hands as they skated together, little holographic, neon hearts sliding against the wooden floors.

“ugh, so cute it’s disgusting,” emma squeaked, skating up beside you and nodding toward one particularly affectionate pair to your right. they were adorable, two girls holding hands and skating identically together. however, it made your chest cave in when one girl was wearing bright, pretty soft hues, while the other was wearing deep blacks and purples, a huge contrast to her girlfriend.

it felt like you and billie, in a way, and you almost gag at that. it seemed like everything reminded you of her, and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it. 

“don’t be a hater,” jules chimed in, coming up on your other side, an easy distraction. you ease up as she teases emma, “maybe you’ll find someone to hold hands with one day, em. miracles happen, i’ll make a phone call to the angels for you, see what they can do.”

“very funny,” emma said, rolling her eyes. “i’m holding out for someone who can actually keep up with me, thank you very much.”

“wait, what happened with that guy i saw you with?” you questioned, hoping that the conversation would flow in a way that would make you forget about seeing billie.

“oh gosh, where do i even begin,” emma dragged on, and that’s when you knew that your plan was in motion. she babbled on about how he was a player and had no common sense, and something about how she didn’t like that he had bed covers with patrick mahomes’ face on it. which, you really didn’t know what that had to do with anything, but you just let her talk.

but then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw her again. billie.

she was on the rink now, skating slowly, her movements a little awkward like she wasn’t used to it. she was smiling, though— a small, quiet smile that tugged at something deep in your chest.

a smile that you missed.

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding loudly in your chest all over again. she still hadn’t noticed you, thank God, but just seeing her was enough to unsettle you completely, working your nerves right back up.

“you good?” emma asked you, nudging your shoulder lightly.

“yeah,” you said quickly, though your voice was too high-pitched to be convincing. you cleared your throat, forcing a smile out as you turned a corner, “just... distracted, i guess.”

emma tilted her head, studying you for a moment, but she didn’t ask anymore questions, “well, let me know if you need a distraction from your distraction.” she said with a wink before skating off to join the others.

you stayed where you were, finding refuge in a wall, letting the others drift ahead. your gaze flickered to billie again, despite yourself, and you wondered— just for a second— if she was thinking about you, too. if she had seen you.

but then she turned, skating toward the far side of the rink, and you quickly looked away, pulling your hair over the side of your face in hopes that she wouldn’t recognize you, if her eyes had somehow found their way to make out who you were, even though you were on the complete opposite side of the roller rink.

you skated to the edge of the opposite wall, trying to put as much distance between yourself and billie as possible. your heart was still pounding, your thoughts racing as you fought the urge to look back over your shoulder, to get one more glimpse, even though you knew you’d regret it.

so you didn’t. because the last thing you needed was for her to notice you.

but then, a sharp pang of anxiety hit you. what if she did see you? what if she thought you were alone, vulnerable, still hung up on everything that happened between you two? it felt irrational, but the idea of her pitying you— or worse, thinking she still had some sort of hold over you— made your stomach churn. you couldn’t let her have that type of victory over you. you were in control, not her.

your eyes scanned the spot that you were in, and then you spotted oliver across the rink, helping naomi wobble along the railing. relief washed over you— oliver was the perfect shield, the one person who could make you look completely unbothered and perfectly fine. after all, he was supposed to be your ‘boyfriend’ now, wasn’t he?

you pushed off the wall, skating toward him as steadily as you could.

 “ollie!” 

he turned around when he heard your voice, his face lighting up when he saw you, “hey, what’s up?”

you skated up beside him, lowering your voice so only he could hear, though your request wasn’t all that abnormal, “okay, this is going to sound weird, but… can you hold my hand?”

he blinked, tilting his head, “uh, sure? what’s going on? is it…?”

you hesitated, glancing over your shoulder to make sure billie was still on the far side of the rink. you looked back at him, “yeah,” you whispered quietly, “and i just— i don’t want her to think… you know, that i’m…”

“still hung up on her?” oliver finished your dead sentence for you, his expression softening with understanding.

you nodded, biting your lip, “i just need her to see that i’m fine. better than fine, even. like… totally over it.”

he smiled gently, reaching out to take your hand. “yup, fake dating duty. got it.”

you felt a small wave of relief as his hand slid into yours, warm and steady. oliver gave it a reassuring squeeze, and you squeezed back, grateful as ever for how quickly he reacted, how eager he was to help you with no complaints.

“you owe me for this, by the way.” he teased as he started skating beside you, his tone lighthearted, and you knew that it was only jokes.

you snorted, “yeah right. just put it on my tab.” 

naomi shot the two of you a curious look as you passed her idle spot next to the wall, “okay, wait, are we holding hands now? did i miss something?”

“we’re practicing for the couples skate,” oliver said smoothly, his tone so casual that even you almost believed him. it was a good lie, one that would hold over your little secret until it forced itself out. and now, now wasn’t really the time for it.

naomi narrowed her eyes, but jules came barreling toward her before she could press further, their laughter echoing across the rink.

you felt a little more at ease now, skating alongside oliver, your hand laced within his. your heart still raced every time you thought about billie, about everytime that you saw her around the rink. but having him there grounded you, reminded you that you weren’t alone.

you cast one more glance toward the far side of the rink, where billie was still skating. her focus was elsewhere, thank God, it was on anything but you.

you exhaled softly, squeezing oliver’s hand again. he looked down at you, raising an eyebrow, “feeling better?”

“yeah,” you said quietly through a smile, “thanks, ollie.”

before he could pay your statement back with a ‘you’re welcome’, you hear jules, naomi, and emma all agree that it’s time to head out and grab some food. they had apparently decided that eating at the diner for lunch was a better idea, saving time to possibly go downtown or go somewhere for dessert and take pictures. so, you and oliver followed accordingly, hopping off the floor and returning your skates to the counter.

as everyone slipped on their shoes and grabbed their things, jules went right back to her teasing of naomi, “so, did you fall?”

“i’m too hungry to argue with you.” she laughed, sliding her tote bag onto her shoulders as the group made their way outside, walking to the diner.

౨ৎ

the diner felt like a sanctuary at first, a bubble of warmth and laughter that protected you from the turmoil brewing just beneath your skin. the clatter of plates, the hum of the jukebox playing some old 50s song, and the low din of chatter around you all made it easy to pretend, just for a little while, that everything was okay, even if it was nothing but that.

you were wedged between emma and the wall in your usual spot, picking at the remains of your burger while naomi recounted some story about her boss at work, who she thought was all types of dreamy. oliver and jules were hanging on her every word, laughing at all the right moments, and emma was chiming in with her usual quick-witted commentary. it should have felt normal, comforting, just like how it was in your dorm this morning. but it didn’t.

you couldn’t stop replaying the moment at the rink. the way billie had looked— so familiar, yet so distant. and, to be honest, it kind of bothered you.

it hurt that you would have to see her around so much, way more often than you would like. it’s like all your hangout spots were hers too, and it was inevitable to get away from her. but you had to try, at least— try and heal from your wounds, try and forget everything that had happened and turn a new leaf. and you knew it would be hard, but you were going to work on it, because you owed it to yourself. you owed it to yourself to be happy.

you were about to take another bite of your burger when the bell above the door jingled, and your heart dropped. you didn’t even need to look to know who it was. the shift in the air was enough. you had felt it before, back at the bar, and earlier in the roller rink. you knew it was her.

but of course, you being you, you looked anyway.

and there she was. 

her presence was like a punch to the gut, a mix of anger, longing, and something else you couldn’t quite place. she looked almost the same as she had at the rink— disheveled, guarded— but her eyes were sharper now, the playful nature of skating long gone.

your stomach twisted and screamed as her gaze landed on your booth, just to your luck. her jaw tightened, her lips pressing into a thin line as her eyes locked on you.

“oh no,” emma muttered under her breath, her fork pausing mid-air, “are you serious?”

“is that…?” jules started, but oliver kicked her under the table, shooting her a warning look, and her lips pursed quiet at that.

you quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the fine lines of ketchup bottle on the table, but it was too late. billie was already walking over to you, her strut quick and strong, like she already had what she wanted to say and do in mind.

“can we talk?” she said once she reached your table, her voice low and tight, standing awkwardly next to your booth.

you placed your head in your hands as everyone went silent, their eyes darting between you and billie like they were watching a live fight scene. and honestly, you knew that’s where it was heading.

but there was nothing you could do. you couldn’t escape, she was here now, so you might as well engage, because there was no other way out of this.

“you want to talk here?” you asked, your voice sharp.

“no,” she clarified, crossing her arms over her chest, “outside.”

“you don’t have to go, love.” oliver said, quiet, but loud enough to where billie could hear. he knew that you needed this— a way out, a cover-up, even if she wasn’t buying it right this second. you felt his hand brush against yours under the table for added effect, though he was unsure if billie could see you two.

but you knew you couldn’t avoid this forever. so, with a heavy sigh, you slid out of the booth, avoiding everyone’s longing and confused looks as you started to walk, following billie out of the door.

the late afternoon air hit you like a slap to the face, much like the way billie had strutted in the diner, demanding a piece of your time like she was the one that owned it. she stopped a few feet away from the entrance, her back to you as she ran a hand through her hair.

“okay, what do you want, billie?” you asked, crossing your arms to mirror her, “i don’t have time for this, be quick and get straight to the point. i don’t even want to be talking to you right now.”

lie.

she turned to face you, her eyes dark and stormy, “honestly, i just want to know why. why you couldn’t just talk to me. why you couldn’t just tell me what was going on, instead of doing all…of this.”

“are you serious?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling quickly to the surface, “are you seriously going to ask me this question again like i haven’t already answered it? what else do you want me to say to you? i told you to leave me alone, and i’m not so sure why this can’t get through to you, so i’ll say it again. leave. me. alone!”

her jaw tightened, and she took a step closer to you. her eyes were glossed over with tears, but you didn’t care at all. you were sick of her acting like she was the victim, like you hadn’t asked her countless times you just leave you be. at this point, she was just harassing you. 

“i-i’m sorry…i know, but…i feel like you’re not telling me everything, y/n. i feel so deeply that there’s something you aren’t telling me, like i’m not getting the whole wide of this story…i just, i needed to know—“

“i don’t owe you explanations about my own life,” you shot back, “why can’t you just give up on me, like you did back at the bar? why can’t you just let me live my life without showing up at the most random times, without making me feel like i’m the one that’s crazy, huh?” 

“give up on you?” billie repeated, her voice cracking. she was full on tears now, “do you have any idea how hard it was to leave? how much it killed me to walk away?”

you flinched at the raw emotion in her voice, but you didn’t back down. she couldn’t phase you now, “if it was so hard, why did you do it?”

“because i didn’t know what else to do!” she shouted, her hands balling into fists at her sides, “you wouldn’t let me in, and i was fucking drowning. i couldn’t keep—”

“couldn’t keep what?” you interrupted, stepping closer now, your own anger flaring, “couldn’t keep dealing with me? with my problems? sorry i wasn’t perfect enough for you, billie, but you knew what you were getting yourself into, it was obvious.” 

“that’s not what i meant,” she said, her voice quieter now but no less intense, “and you know it. you know that’s not how i felt about you.” 

“then what did you mean?” you pressed, your heart pounding in your chest, “i mean, do tell billie, because i’ve been waiting for this. tell me what you really wanna say, because you’re doing nothing but wasting my time.” 

she opened her mouth to respond, but then her gaze flicked behind your back, back toward the diner. you followed her line of sight and saw your friends watching from the window, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity, leaning in so close in hopes that they could hear what was going on. 

billie’s expression shifted, her anger giving way to something softer, something almost vulnerable, like she really was going to tell you how she felt. but just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a mask of indifference, confusion, of something unsure. 

“you know what? forget it,” she said, shaking her head at you, “this was a mistake. you were right.” 

and then she turned on her heel without a word, and started walking away, her boots echoing against the pavement as she started towards her car. 

“billie, wait,” you called after her, your voice trembling, but it was no use. 

she didn’t stop. she didn’t even look back, and for the first time, you really wish she did. 

you wanted to hear what she had to say, but you weren’t ready. you couldn’t handle all of that, but you thought you could at least try. but now, it was too late. 

it was always too late. 

you stood there, frozen, your fists clenched and your chest heaving as you watched her disappear into the driver’s seat of her car, cranking up the engine and speeding out of her parking spot. 

your friends were still watching from the window, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face them. instead, you turned around and leaned against the wall of the diner, your head falling back as you stared up at the sky.

you wanted to scream, to cry, to do something about this, but all you could do was stand there, the weight of her words and your own anger pressing down on you like a weighted blanket.

and then, you heard the door to the diner swing opened, a voice pushing out into the empty air, 

“i promise you, despite as much as you think you are, you and billie are far from done.” 

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[corpsedogs]

✿ my annoying siblings (req)

tim drake x f!assistant

more focused on the bat-family

( ♡ he just likes his assistant, is that wrong? )

“Yeah, okay I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks again.” Tim says before looking at the end call screen on his phone. Dick, who was sitting on a chair leaned back to look at him, “Who was that?” he asked. Tim didn’t look back but answered, “My assistant.” Dick’s eyes raised as he looked towards Bruce’s direction.

“Do you know about this?”

“No.” Bruce answers as he looks through his case files.

Stephanie perks up from the conversation. “Why’d you hire one?” Tim looks up at her, “I just needed help at work. You know, to balance my work better.” Tim shrugs, placing his phone in his pocket.

Damian crosses his arms, “Since when are you not capable of doing your tasks?” Tim glared at him, “I am capable, I just needed some help.”

Tim had hired a new assistant, you. It's been a few weeks since he has hired you, his initial plan was to keep you for a week before working by himself again. But god, how it made his life so easier.

Schedules, back reading paperwork, research. It was all done once he went back to see you. Not only that, but he also found you endearing. He would always admire how hard you worked and how you would always get the job done.

He can’t help but smile when you enter his office as you hold onto some paperwork in your arms or when he listens to your voice on the phone as you update on his schedule.

Jason raised his brow as he saw him staring to space, “You good?” Tim was snapped from his thoughts “Huh? Yeah.. just thinking about work.” Jason shrugged, not giving a care as he walked towards the exit of the batcave.

A day passed by and Tim was in Wayne enterprises. He looked up ahead and saw you making some coffee, he didn’t hesitate and walked to your side. Tim cleared his throat as you looked at him surprised, "Oh, sir. I'm so sorry I didn't see you. Did you want some coffee?"

“Yes please.” He says giving you a warm smile. You nodded as you prepared a cup, “Do you have any preferences?”

“Two sugar, with a splash of creamer would be great. Thank you.”

You nodded at his request and started to pour the warm water onto the cup.

Tim crosses his arms, “Anything I should take note of today?” he asks, you thought for a bit before shaking your head “Uh, no one seems to be asking for a meeting and.. the things you requested should be coming in here soon. So I suppose your schedule is quite free, should I write something down?”

Tim didn’t realize he had been zoning out while staring at you until he was back to reality. He blinked twice when he noticed you had been speaking. “Sorry, what was that?” he asked, feeling a bit dazed. “There's nothing important to report,” you repeated, “So your schedule is quite free today.” you said as you gave him his coffee.

Tim slowly took the warm cup from you, “Thank you.” he said, his fingers brushed against yours when he took the cup from your hands.

Free time.

He had been so busy lately that having a free day seemed strange. "You sure I don't have anything scheduled?” he asked, a bit of skepticism in his tone. You took out your phone to double check and nodded, “Well, yes. Unless you want to meet with someone today.” He took a sip of his coffee, savoring the bittersweet taste, “I was thinking…”

“I was wondering if… you’d like to have lunch with me?” You blanked out for a minute, “Me?” you pointed to yourself. “Oh, I mean. Sure, I’d love to sir.” Tim was surprised by how easy it was to convince you to accept his invitation. Not only that, but your eagerness to go was also surprising. Normally he’d expect someone to be skeptical when a boss asks you to have lunch with them.

He smiled warmly at you, “Great, I’ll pick you up at your desk at 12.”

Noon arrived. Tim was a bit nervous as he stood in front of your desk. He had taken off his suit jacket and loosened his tie for the occasion. Tim took a deep breath before tapping the top of your desk to get your attention. “Ready?” You nodded, “Yes, let me just tidy my things.”

Tim watched as you gathered your things, placing them in their proper folders. Once you were ready, the two of you left the building as Tim gestured to you to walk ahead of him.

The cafe wasn't a 5 minute walk for the building, when you approached the cafe, he opened the door for you, gesturing for you to walk in first. You sat down in one of the booths, “Is there a reason why you took me out for lunch sir?” you asked.

Tim shrugged his shoulders as he sat opposite of you, “I thought I’d treat you since you’ve been such a great help lately.”

“Oh, thank you.” you said. Tim could sense a bit of embarrassment in your voice as he replied.

The waitress came by to take the two of your orders. Tim looked at you first, “What’re you gonna have?” You looked down at the menu, then back up at him, "I’ll have the chicken parm and water, please." Tim nodded, then ordered once it was his turn, "I’ll get an iced green tea and the club sandwich."

The waitress took your orders and left the two of you to chat. Tim leaned back in his spot and studied you a bit more before he spoke, "How’s being my assistant like so far?”

You avoided eye contact a bit, “It's nice, the job is for me and I get nice pay.” you answered. He tried to reassure you, “I’m glad you like the job. And also, I don’t bite. You don’t need to be so nervous.”

“Well, it’s a little difficult for me to talk friendly to a higher up.” you nervously chuckled. “You don’t need to feel nervous talking to me. You’ve been doing a fantastic job as my assistant, if anything, I should be nervous talking with you.” he said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

You softly smiled, “Well, it was nice for you to take me out to lunch sir.” He smiled back at you as he spoke, “You’re welcome, but don’t call me ‘sir’ when we’re outside of work.”

Night time passed, Tim was on his Red Robin suit sitting on one of the rooftops watching from below. Behind him was Jason and Stephanie who accompanied him on patrol. Jason sat by him as he tapped his fingers on the stone floor, “So..” he trailed, “Who’s your date?” Stephanie asked.

Tim raised his brow at the two, “What date?” Stephanie crossed his arms “The date you had at the afternoon.” Tim looked at the two of them, deadpanning “What date...” oh no.

Tim stood up, “Have you two been spying on me??” Dick’s voice entered in the earpiece “And me.” he fuzzed in. Tim rolled his eyes in annoyance, “All of you were spying on me??” he asked, a bit frustrated.

Jason smirked, “What’s the matter, Red? Didn’t want us to find out who you were swooning over?” Tim narrowed his eyes at Jason, “I am not ‘swooning’ over anyone.” he replied.

Stephanie smirked as she joined in, "You definitely were. Who is it?"

“It’s nothing. Just lunch with an assistant,” he said. Jason scoffed, getting more of an idea of who “that assistant” was. “Since when did you start taking an interest in your assistants?”

Dick chimed in again ”That was your assistant??” Tim looked up at the sky in frustration, and nodded. Stephanie started to laugh, “Oh my god, you’ve got the hots for your assistant!” Tim huffed, he knew where this was going to go. “Why were you three spying on me anyway?”

“Because, we’re nosey.”, Dick said through the comms again. Jason crossed his arms, “You should get used to it by now.” Before Tim could say anything, Barbara chimed in. “Guys, task at hand please.” she said, thank you Barbara. “Let’s talk about this later.” Dick said, before he tuned out.

Tim is positive he won't see the light of day soon.

🍰 part two? maybe? please reblog and comment to support me 🙏

[elliesgaymachete]

i am personally quite conflicted about whatever is happening with this campaign and bells hells, but i wanted to say something about giving the gods a choice: if someone came to your house with a shotgun pointed at you and told you that you can either leave or stay but become a monkey, would you actually consider that a free choice? whith a shotgun pointed at you?

Let me take your analogy and help you understand

Imagine there’s a house you grew up in. It’s the only home you’ve ever known, you’ve always lived there, you know no other home and can’t imagine living anywhere else. Then some entity that’s stronger than you and smarter than you and bigger than you and more powerful than you comes along and says, “this is my house now”. You couldn’t fight them even if you wanted to because they’re so unbelievably powerful so you say sure and let them take over your house.

For the most part it’s fine, fairly normal, but every so often, they put in a display of power like emptying out the fridge so no one can eat, or turning off the electricity, or kicking someone out of the house, or even killing someone. They just want to make sure you don’t get too comfortable and know who’s in charge here. They see you as so much lesser, but it’s such a kind mercy that they let you stay here with them.

They don’t talk to you anymore, but they talk to other people, whisper in their ears, help out whenever it benefits them. These people listen to whatever they say and have become the security of the house. Sometimes they punish you for doing something wrong or kick you out of your bedroom so they can turn it into their office. So you go share a room with someone else or sleep on the couch.

Whenever they get mad you’re afraid you might freeze or go hungry or die in your own fucking house. Maybe next time they’ll get so angry they just set the whole place on fire and watch while you burn and then collect the insurance payout. You and everyone else has long since accepted this as the status quo and it feels like nothing can be done. But, you’re still just trying to live in your house

If you finally found something you could use to fight this guy, would you use it? But to offer them a choice of “get out of my house or give up your power and join me down here and we can all live at the same level”? That’s a big fucking mercy in my opinion

Clearly this is an imperfect metaphor, as you’ve probably realized at this point. The situation is so much more nuanced than that. And i think that, given everything Bells Hells knows and has gone through, they found a fantastic solution to this divisive problem

[hogans-heroes]

Find the word

How it works: I search for the words prev assigned me in my latest WIP and then choose four words for you to search for in your WIP.

Tagged by @swifty-fox eeee thank you! This was fun because I got to use all my wips! My words were cut, forgiven, pillow, and sleep.

Cut, from mota/bikeriders crossover (name still a secret)

Brucie and Cal had lifted the shattered but still-ferocious boy into the back of Cal’s pickup, leaving smears of blood on the pavement and themselves that clearly belonged to the kid and whoever he’d been fighting. His skinny chest heaved as the guys kept him pinned to the bed of the truck, an unnatural angle to his forearm and cuts so deep Johnny swore he could see bone.

Forgiven, from still-unnamed shifter AU

“You gotta shift John,” Gale panted. “I can’t carry you like this.”

“You shift,” John snapped. “You’re in no shape to go on either.”

“Your ankle is broken!” Gale screamed. The viscous horror he was trying to keep locked away shot razor-clawed fear through his veins, and he staggered over the low scrub that tossed sand down his oversized boots “We had a pact, we make it out this time or we die. So shift or kill us both now!”

John flinched, hand going to the stolen pistol tucked in his waistband. His mouth twisted, eyes turbulent with pleading grief, but if he backed out now Gale would never forgive him for the last few seconds of his wretched life, however long it took him to get the gun from John and do them both in himself. John might argue with him but he knew they couldn’t live without each other, that was tested in the facility too.

The trail of blood from John’s own neck wound glittered in the moonlight, dripping down over his collarbone, and his wild curls and days-old scruff made Gale’s heart ache with longing. John pressed his lips together—taking a deep breath through the nose—and shifted, his tall form morphing in the blink of an eye to a black cat with long fluffy fur, now matted with blood and coarse from neglect. He made a small trilling noise, collapsing to the ground, and Gale scooped him up, clutching him to his chest and starting to run again.

Pillow, from Words of my Hands

Rosie reached for the phone, keeping one hand on the back of John’s neck, dialed the mess hall and requested biscuits and milk brought to his office. And if they had any chicken soup, just the broth.

“I don’t get any meat?” John tried to joke, but his voice came out too weak and the sensation of Rosie’s thumb stroking his neck nearly choked him.

“Doc said no rich foods for a while. Gotta take it easy on that kriegie stomach of yours.”

“Yeah that’s all I’ll ever be, a kriegie,” John muttered, swaying in Rosie’s hold. Rosie made a disapproving noise but said nothing, guiding John up and to the cot shoved in the corner of the room. It had a blanket and pillow and Rosie laid John down, pulling the blanket over him like a child, and went back to sit at the desk while John’s eyes followed him, unblinking. Rosie settled heavily in the chair and met his gaze, too gently.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, then sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “He’s gonna be alright, John.”

Sleep, from a oneshot where Bucky gets drugged in the cooler

“Bucky, talk to me.”

Bucky blinks, then a little questioning “Hm?”

“What happened? What did they do?”

“I dunno. Am I…” Bucky swallows. “They let me go?”

“Yes,” Gale says, petting Bucky’s filthy hair, and makes a decision. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then you can sleep ok?” he murmurs, and Bucky gives another angelic smile.

“Yeah,” he says happily, and the joy on his face is so sweet but so wrong.

I tag @stereobone @middlingmay @carnevol @the-ghost-of-jason-todd @aust-een @skyyguy if you like! And anyone else who wants to, with the words run, drip, blowing, and blue.

[airenyah]

A LOOK AT STYLE'S JOURNEY | Ep 8

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7)

Oof. This took me way longer than planned. Partly, because I had some uni assignments to work on and partly, because I went home the weekend after episode 8 dropped and ended up binging the entirety of Star in My Mind with my mother. On her request, btw. Who am I to say no to my mother when she wants to watch a JoongDunk show for the 3rd time together. I actually meant to upload it a day or two ago, but then I kept realizing and noticing and remembering details that I really wanted to add, some of which were also language related, so I then needed to check with my Thai language correspondents which also took some time as I waited for their replies.

But here it finally is! I know in my last meta I said it was my longest one yet, but this one's even longer, actually. Watch my metas hit 20k words by the end of the series lmao. Anyway, enjoy. And apologies in advance if my ep9 meta is also late, since I had to finish this one first. I promise I'll try my best to get it done before ep10 <3

Pronoun situation: As usual, just assume Fadel and Style use the rude pronouns guu/mueng with each other unless I specify otherwise.

To recap: So Fadel and Bison found out. Fadel and Bison are mad. Fadel and Bison want to kill Kant and Style. Style was drugged, kidnapped, found himself tied up at a pool staring down the barrel of his own boyfriend's gun, survived, and then drove off into the sunset, uh, I mean went on a little road trip in search of his best friend and his boyfriend's brother/best friend's boyfriend. As bleak as things may seem with Style being back at square one with the added challenge that Fadel now actively wants to kill him, this, at the same time, may be one of the best things that has ever happened to Style, because finally everything is out in the open. Style no longer has any secrets to keep (except for the deal with the car) and he can finally be brutally honest in everything he says and everything he does.

No. 1: Midnight Mote– Oh Wait Wrong Show

We meet them as they're pulling into the parking lot of a motel. Since it seems to be pretty late at night, I think it's fairly safe to assume that they were driving all day, likely non-stop. The first thing out of Style's mouth is a horny line. "Why are we at a motel? Did you get turned on while we were on the way or what?" And just from that line alone we can actually see how far he's come since the beginning of the series and how far he's come in his feelings for Fadel too. Remember my first few metas about the first few episodes of the show and how I would go into whether Style really meant his flirty comment or not? I don't think in this moment Style was actually trying to seduce Fadel (we know how he acts when he does want to seduce him and we'll even get to see an example of it in a bit when they're in the room), but it's still very different from his flirty/horny comments in the first couple of episodes in the series where he also wasn't really genuinely trying to seduce Fadel. Back then, a lot of his comments were very loud in a performative kind of way, as if he was saying them for an audience, not because he actually meant what he said. This one here? There is absolutely none of that loud, performative energy to be found. No, Style makes this comment very casually, almost matter-of-factly even as if he's asking something like So, what do you want for dinner tonight?

It's no longer a performance to him. In fact, he's quite serious about it and while it was an offhanded rhetorical question, it still almost sounds like an honest question. The flirting is no longer a joke to Style the way it was in the first three episodes of the series. He genuinely wants to know. But Fadel shuts him down and orders him to get out of the car. Style is a bit annoyed at the dismissal, but by now he's also used to it. After all, he did spent 4 episodes doing nothing but hitting one wall after the other. And just like back then, he won't let Fadel shake him off that easily. So Style complains: "I’m just curious so I know what to expect. It’s not like I can just turn the switch on, you know?" Again, this is not a performance. In fact, this time around, he's even more serious than compared his comment before. He may not be planning on actively seducing Fadel right here right now in the car, but who is Style to say no if the opportunity to sleep with Fadel arises? For Style, sleeping with Fadel is absolutely on the table if Fadel makes the offer. And so Style lets him know. "I’m just curious so I know what to expect." Will you be sleeping with me? Are you planning on sleeping with me?

Fadel takes a moment to reply and there is an interesting expression on Style's face as he waits for an answer:

Style is watching him carefully, really observing Fadel's face. He's done this before when he's hit Fadel with a flirty or suggestive line, but where before his expression would always be one of excitement or amusement or curiosity or sometimes even smugness, this time it's completely serious. It's almost as if Style is searching for something. But searching for what?

As I mentioned above, I don't think Style is actively trying to seduce Fadel here. I think he's more testing the waters. Because while yes, Fadel has slept with him before and yes, Fadel is in love with him and Style knows it (he will later confirm it for himself at the end of the episode), the problem is that Fadel is also very pissed at him right now and is actively planning to kill him, has actively tried to kill him only hours ago, actually. If that doesn't send confusing signals, then I don't even know anymore. And so Style needs to figure out where exactly he stands with Fadel right now – that's what Style is searching for when he's staring at Fadel. He's trying to see how far Fadel has pushed him away now that the lies have come to light, is trying to find out how close Fadel will let him come now that Fadel has calmed down a bit from his tantrum at the pool. Will Fadel let Style get close enough again to maybe even be willing to sleep with him like before? Is their relationship maybe not in ruins yet? Has Fadel's anger faded enough? Does Style still have a chance with him? Is there a chance they can go back to the happiness they shared before all hell broke loose? This matters to Style and it matters a lot. And so he tries to look for the answers in Fadel's face as he waits for Fadel's reply. And after a moment, Fadel lifts his gun and hits him with:

I didn't take you here to sleep with you. กูไม่ได้พามึงมาเอาเนาะ [guu mâi dâai paa mueng maa ao nó] I - not - take - you - come - sleep with - [particle] Official subs: I’m not sleeping with you.

Sex is not the purpose for which Fadel made Style drive to a motel of all places. Fadel informs Style that this is where he's meeting Bison and repeats his order for Style to get out of the car. Style actually stares at Fadel for a second before he reacts:

This is the second right before Style turns his head and says he'll wait. And again I think this is him taking in Fadel's response and his brain working out where exactly Fadel has put him now. That's important info for Style to know. Style needs to understand where exactly he stands, because he needs to find out how much distance precisely it is that he has to overcome so that he can figure out a way to overcome that distance. Because Style doesn't want there to be any distance between the two of them at all. But Fadel clearly won't let Style get anywhere close right now. So Style turns his head and announces that he'll be waiting in the car. He's not in the mood to follow along, Fadel is a big boy and can go and get his brother by himself. Fadel, however, isn't in the mood to play either. He points his gun at Style's head again and tells him no. Style will not be waiting in the car. Style looks severely unimpressed.

Fadel orders Style to follow him, and in fact, not just to follow Fadel but walk in front of him, actually, thank you very much. And yes, Fadel does literally say "follow me", not "come along":

ตามกูมา [dtaam - guu - maa] follow - me - come Official subs: You come with me.

As a translation student I think it's a shame the translator didn't stick to a literal translation here, because I think it's pretty funny how Fadel is all "follow me" at first until he remembers that "following" implies walking behind someone and then changes his mind and tells Style to take the lead instead so that Fadel can actually keep an eye on him and threaten him with his gun if need may be. With Fadel ordering Style to walk behind him at first, I think it highlights his unspoken threat of "Walk in front of me (where I can see you)" even more and it's a shame the translator removed that. But despite the threat, Style just continues to be unimpressed. In fact, Fadel is really starting to get on Style's nerves now. And so he rolls his eyes and sighs the biggest sigh ever to make sure Fadel really can't miss how Style feels about this, how he feels about getting out of that car, how he feels about Fadel bossing him around and threatening him and waving a gun in his face.

Style is so fucking done with Fadel's stupid fucking act. And Style knows it's an act, he knows Fadel won't be killing him. At least not any time soon. And especially not right here in the parking lot of this motel. Fadel steps out of the car and Style watches him, then shakes his head, annoyed, before he follows Fadel's lead and gets out of the car as well.

They make their way towards the aunty and Fadel actually does fall behind Style as they walk. Once they reach the aunty, Fadel starts questioning her about Bison. She recognizes Bison on the photo, but hasn't seen him in a while. Aunty is worried and asks if he ran away from home. Style immediately jumps in and comes up with a reasonable story.

@secriden has an interesting thought about this:

[T]he story Style comes up with about why they're looking for a missing person on their own like this (instead of, y'know, going to the police like upright, non-hitman citizens would've) was really good to explain their urgency/frustration and preempt any suspicion so that the auntie is unlikely to report them to the cops. Style is actively, genuinely helping Fadel out and using his excellent skills at playing Asian aunties to full effect for him. Ugh, just look at how earnest and worried Style's expression is!? He totally disarms the auntie while I bet she would've been a lot more suspicious and distrustful if grumpy face on the left had come asking questions alone.

I think this is certainly an aspect of it, but I'm not sure how much of it is Style consciously doing this in order to help Fadel out and to keep the aunty from getting too suspicious and how much of it is Style acting on instinct. Not to mention, part of this is definitely also Style just being a chatty cat, ready to strike up a conversation with anyone who'll listen to him talk. Especially when it involves aunties that he can wrap around his finger with his charm. That is Style's personality after all.

I also love how Style drops the "boyfriend" without a second thought. Because obviously they are still boyfriends. Yes, Fadel drugged him and kidnapped him and pulled a gun on him and nearly killed him but never once did he utter the words "I'm breaking up with you" or "This relationship is over". So of course this relationship is very much still on. Why wouldn't it be?

Though let me just say, I don't think Style necessarily called Fadel his boyfriend deliberately in this moment in the sense of that he is actively trying to send some kind of underlying message to Fadel. I mean, in a way yes, but this boyfriend mention is very casual (as if it's the most self-evident thing in the world) and so I don't think his main goal here is to send some kind of deliberate pointed message along the lines of Do you hear that Fadel, I truly love you and I still consider you my boyfriend to Fadel, because if that were the case, he would have highlighted the word "boyfriend" more. Style will be calling Fadel his boyfriend very deliberately and pointedly later in the episode after a certain confrontation. But for now, this underlying message is more of a side thought.

Aunty asks if the two of them want a room. Style say yes. Fadel says no. Style insists. He's tired and there's no point in continuing their search for Bison right now. Fadel is stubborn. They have to keep going. Style starts getting overdramatic and flaunts his waist. Aunty supports Style. She refers to Style as Fadel's boyfriend. Style throws Fadel a pleased, warm look and raises his eyebrows at him. See? She's on my side. I'm winning this. Fadel says Style isn't his boyfriend. We don't even get to see Style's reaction to that claim, so I guess it couldn't have hit him too hard. Maybe he was even half expecting this sort of reaction with the way Fadel has been pulling back from him and has been rebuilding his walls.

Aunty tells them she'll be putting them in a special room and Fadel doesn't argue. Aunty presents them with lube and a condom. Style throws Fadel an amused and a little smug look.

No. 2: Of Mechanics and Race Car Beds

Fadel is having one of the worst nights of his life. That special room is very much not to his liking. Style, though, loves it. Obviously. Although, I think he also partly says it to be extra nice to the aunty to make up for Fadel being such a grumpy cat and partly as a way to get under Fadel's skin. The "Fast. Hard. Furious." part especially is a direct message to Fadel. Style is being a little shit again in order to get through to Fadel, but what's different now compared to the early episodes is that there is so now much more fondness that comes with it. When he smiles at Fadel afterwards, there is amusement in his expression, but moreover there is so much warmth and affection as well. There's even an air of playful innocence about it like Don't you agree, baby? 😇

The aunty leaves and Style comments on how he's never had sex in a car before (and to those who are calling bullshit on that statement, let me just point out: he said he never had sex in a car, he didn't say anything about never having sex with a car. I mean, we all saw how he touched Kant's car back in episode 1 🤭🤭🤭). Style takes off his shirt, throws it at Fadel, leans onto the windshield of the car and says some very flirty and suggestive things. Fadel finally gets up from his spot in the very last corner of the room, walks up to Style, grabs his hand and leads it down his own body. Then Fadel leans in for a kiss, only to handcuff Style to the bed.

This whole scene is very reminiscent of the kitchen scene at the start of episode 4. In both scenes Style says flirty and suggestive shit with the actual goal of getting into Fadel's pants, in both scenes Style makes a comment about how it's like a sex fantasy (Note: in episode 4 the subs say "wild", but since he is literally saying an English loanword I think you can hear it for yourself and don't need me to spell it out for you in Thai like I usually do), in both scenes Fadel is trying to push Style away, in both scenes Style is also trying to annoy Fadel in some way. And yet both of these scenes go very differently.

In my ep4 meta I discussed why Style genuinely meant all the flirting in the scene and how he was genuinely trying to get into Fadel's pants, but there is one aspect I actually didn't really mention, partly because I was focusing on other things and partly because back then I didn't yet have the comparison of how Style's flirting would be like once they were in an actual relationship and real romantic feelings were involved. I've mentioned before how when Style is saying suggestive things without actually meaning them in the earlier episodes his voice will be louder and his tone much more performative while when he is sincere in his sexual flirting his voice will go more quiet. When Style goes into his whole "I know a guy like you just needs a little nudge" spiel in episode 4 his voice is a lot more quiet than it usually is compared to the insincere flirting which is why (amongst other reasons I discuss in my ep4 meta) I think he definitely meant it, but (and this following part I didn't mention back then) there is something about his tone of voice and also the way he grabs Fadel's crotch in such a rough, unsexy way that makes me think he was also trying to piss Fadel off a bit. It's not just flirting, but it's a challenge too. Because Fadel keeps claiming he didn't miss Style when Style failed to show up at Fadel's usual spots, keeps claiming that Style is a only a bother to him. And so I think, as much as Style was genuinely up for sleeping with Fadel for a second time (the same way something else was, ahem, up that morning when Style awoke from his blissful dream), I think he was also using the chance to try and get under Fadel's skin again, trying to break down Fadel's walls even more, trying to make him admit that he was thinking about Style and that he had grown to like him.

Now in episode 8 Style doesn't need Fadel to admit his feelings anymore. Fadel is his boyfriend already, they've slept together on multiple occasions, and have also gotten to know each other on a deeper emotional level. Yes, Fadel has put his walls back up now that the truth is out, but now Style also knows what lies behind those walls. And so in this scene in the motel room he actively annoys Fadel on purpose, first of all by being flirty in the first place (Style knows exactly that Fadel isn't here to sleep with him since Fadel explicitly told him so when they arrived) and second of all by throwing his shirt at Fadel, which I think is an attempt at kind of connecting to/making contact with Fadel who retreated all the way into the last corner of the room and an attempt at getting some kind of reaction/engagement out of him. And what I've also seen someone note somewhere in the tags is how Style's shirt says "control". Style rids himself of "control" and throws it at Fadel. And we see that in the way he acts.

In the kitchen, even if he let Fadel take the lead once Fadel grabbed his waist and put him onto the table, in the beginning it was still Style who initiated everything, it was Style who moved closer to Fadel and who started touching him. Now in the motel, Style lets Fadel fully be in control from the start. Instead of getting closer to Fadel, Style now stays put exactly where he is. Instead of touching Fadel suggestively as Style did in the kitchen and is generally keen on doing whenever he genuinely wants to get into Fadel's pants he leans on onto the windshield of the car and puts himself on display completely, flaunts himself, offers himself to Fadel in a way that says here I am, take me any time. Style stays put, doesn't touch Fadel, and instead waits as he leaves the choice to engage entirely up to Fadel. Fadel can have him whenever he's ready. Style won't force Fadel before he is ready but he will make sure that Fadel knows loud and clear that Style's offer is here.

Style's tone is also fully grounded and serious now as well as very calm. It's the complete opposite of his loud, showy, performative behavior from the first three episodes when he was trying to "seduce" Fadel and was spewing insincere words. And when he smiles at Fadel, he's kinda amused but there is also so much warmth behind in his expression:

Fadel finally gets up and engages with Style and it's interesting, because back during episode 4 in the kitchen I already thought Style was serious about hooking up with Fadel and it's just so cool to see just how much more serious Style actually gets now that strong romantic feelings are involved. If you watch the kitchen scene from episode 4 and the motel scene from episode 8 back to back you can absolutely tell in which of these scenes Style is full on in love. And what else is interesting is that even though in the kitchen scene from episode 4 Style 10000% means every single thing he says and genuinely wants to hook up with Fadel right then and there, there is still some sort of performative air to his lines when he says "Oh, we’re doing it in the kitchen?" and "Wild. I like it". In episode 4, Style had just found out from the market aunty that his strategy of staying away did have an effect on Fadel, but when Style calls him out on it, Fadel keeps rejecting him and keeps telling him to piss off. And while Style's gut feeling tells him that Fadel does feel something for him, Style doesn't actually know. Because Fadel keeps saying otherwise and keeps pushing him away. But in the kitchen Style genuinely wants something from Fadel and I think when Style makes his comments while Fadel is putting him on the table his words aren't entirely grounded not because he's being insincere, but because he's trying to play it cool. I think he's trying to hide how desperate he is for Fadel to reciprocate his blossoming feelings.

Now in episode 8, though? Style is no longer desperate for it. Sure, Fadel is currently pushing him away again all the time, but it's okay. Because unlike in episode 4, Style now knows for a fact that they're in love. That Fadel is in love with him, too. Fadel is mad at him right now, but that will pass. So when Fadel comes over to (seemingly) go along with Style's seduction, Style doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to anymore. He doesn't have anything to prove anymore. He is confident about their mutual feelings and their relationship now.

Something that both the ep4 kitchen scene and the ep8 motel room scene, and actually also the ep3 storage room scene share is how Style lets Fadel take the lead. Style isn't forcing himself onto Fadel, he sits back and lets Fadel do whatever he wants to do to him.

Fadel grabs Style's hand and leads it down his chest. Style follows with curiosity, looking pleased, clearly happy that Fadel is actually engaging instead of pushing him away and definitely also excited about the prospect of getting some. Fadel leans in for a kiss and Style follows and—

Before Style knows it, Fadel has handcuffed him to the bed. Kissing is off the table, it seems. In episode 4, Style was extremely hurt by Fadel's rejection. Now in episode 8, he's still pretty miffed about it, but he is in no way as hurt as he was that time in the kitchen. Because by now Fadel has done this to him enough times that he's used to it. And also, as I mentioned before, their relationship is on a very different level now. Fadel handcuffs Style and Style is disappointed, but not surprised. Mostly he is just kinda annoyed that Fadel is still keeping up this stupid act. "What the hell? I ain’t running away, you know?"

In episode 4, Style ran off, hurt and humiliated and very enraged. In episode 8, Style stays put. Not that he could have gotten very far even if he had wanted to run off, but Style genuinely doesn't want to. In episode 4, Style spent quite a long time being angry at Fadel for dumping him like that. In episode 8, Style is annoyed for like a second upon realizing what Fadel's plan had been all along, but then he immediately gets over it and meets Fadel with love and warmth instead. Fadel says "I don’t trust you" and Style does talk back, but it's more of an affectionate teasing than an attempt at instigating an actual argument. Style almost smiles at Fadel after he says "And if I need to take a piss?" Fadel lets him know that he will be uncuffing him for that if need may be and Style lowers his gaze. He sees the complimentary gifts and playfully starts teasing Fadel about using them. And unlike earlier, I think this time with that kind, warm smile Style is throwing Fadel, Style's comments about chains and whips and using the complimentary gifts weren't actually meant as genuine seduction. No, I think that was Style's way of saying Hey, I'm not upset with you for chaining me to the bed, I'm not holding that against you. But would you please just drop the act and stop pushing me away all the time?

But Fadel grabs his chin and tells no, he will not be dropping the act: "Didn’t you say you’re tired? I bet it’s because you run your mouth too much. Shut up and go to sleep." Style smiles at Fadel again towards the end of Fadel's new rejection, but that smile falls as soon as Fadel walks away.

And I don't think it's because Style is frustrated that he won't be getting laid that evening after all. I think Style is genuinely disappointed that Fadel continues to push him away like that, that Fadel keeps on being stubborn and refusing to communicate and engage with Style no matter how clear Style makes it that he's not holding a grudge about anything that happened that day, from the drugging to the kidnapping to the attempted murder to the blue-balling. And in addition I think Style is also a little hurt that Fadel won't just trust him at least a little bit and hurt that Fadel keeps acting so distant and stand-offish. Style just wants his boyfriend back.

No. 3: Deliver A Message

Now this scene is interesting because it left some people confused from what I've seen. Is Style being serious with his crying or not? Is he playing Fadel? Especially with the upbeat music that was put in the background at the beginning of the scene. There's another reason why I think this particular scene is confusing (and which was the reason why it confused me in the beginning as well), but that's a topic for a whole separate post. (Side note: While I was still working on this meta, I actually ended up getting an anon about this crying scene and sooo this "separate post" might actually follow at some point, even if I hadn't been planning on actually writing it when I was typing the previous sentence. Stay tuned.) I think multiple readings of this scene can co-exist, but for now I just wanna share what I personally think is happening in this scene.

First and foremost let me just say that I don't think Style is necessarily playing Fadel. If anything, he may be playing the drama up a bit like he tends to do, because that's simply just his personality. He has a tendency to be a bit more dramatic then necessary. But even if he is playing it up, I think it absolutely comes from a genuine place. After all, Style is only human and he has had quite an eventful day. Let's recap...

The day started with Style showing up at the hospital, already antsy because he couldn't reach Kant which was worrisome especially in the context of Fadel's threatening warning of "the two of us have business to finish with the two of you" from the night before. So Style shows up at the hospital, only to find out that his best friend was kidnapped by an actual assassin who is very capable of murdering Kant (Style doesn't know Bison as well as he knows Fadel, so Style has no way to tell whether Bison loves Kant enough to spare Kant's life the way Style can tell with Fadel). And immediately after that he gets ambushed and drugged, which absolutely is a traumatizing thing to go through and certainly must have had some effect on Style, if just subconsciously. Then, he finds himself tied up naked at a pool, which again, would generally be a traumatizing situation to find yourself in, especially when someone you know is very capable of taking other people's lives comes and continuously waves a gun into your face. And yes, by now Style knows Fadel pretty well and so he didn't feel too threatened, but Fadel was also really angry and Fadel also did punch Style in the gut that one time when Style was overly confident that Fadel liked him enough not to harm him. And I think, even if on a surface level Style didn't feel too threatened by Fadel (because Style has learned to read him) on a subconscious level the knowledge that Fadel certainly could and would shoot at any moment if he got too angry is still there. And right at the end of that scene there was a point where Style was genuinely scared for his life. Again, that's pretty traumatizing. And then he spent all day in a tight space with someone who is angry at him and keeps pointing a gun on him. And then he got chained again. And got pushed away by his boyfriend over and over again. Style is only human. And it makes complete sense for all the emotions that he repressed while he was playing it cool in order to get through these traumatizing events to come bubbling up to a surface level now at night where he finally gets to rest.

Lying there, in bed, at night, about to fall asleep, his brain is finally not busy with keeping him alive anymore. His brain finally has the time and the opportunity to process everything that has happened in the last 24ish hours. And as he is lying there in bed his brain is probably playing back everything that has happened and is coming up with a lot of "what if" scenarios. What if Fadel had actually killed him at the pool? What if Fadel will actually kill him in the future just like he actually did punch him in the storage room when Style was confident that he wouldn't? Style's death would come with consequences. We've already heard and seen a lot about Style's loving relationship with his dad and it's no wonder Style thinks of him now. Because Style's death would hurt his dad a lot. Style's dad already lost the mother of his son, now he might lose his only son too? The only family member left in his immediate family? If Style does get murdered, he doesn't wanna die without saying goodbye to his dad. And the only person who would be able to deliver that goodbye message is his own murderer.

I don't think Style meant to cry in the beginning. I do think he was fairly serious in the beginning, but I don't think he was planning on crying about it. It's only when he remembers his mother that it triggers the need to cry, only when he suddenly arrives at his own grief and his own trauma about his mother's death that the tears start flowing. And in my opinion those are real, genuine tears. We've seen Style fake-cry before, we know what his performative crying looks like. Style is a terrible fake-crier and we saw this in episode 4 when he showed up at the Rise Up group meeting for the first time and "cried" about his dog. The crying in the motel bed? Is very far from that.

And it's not just us, the viewers, who know what Style's fake crying looks like. Fadel was at that support group meeting too. Fadel also knows how Style fake-cries. And so when Style starts to cry, Fadel can tell the difference. And it has an effect on him. Except he doesn't really know how to deal with this situation, because Style crying hadn't been part of his plans of kidnapping and killing Style, hadn't been part of his plans to push Style as far away again as possible. And so he awkwardly asks "Are you crying?" (I think a different way to phrase this question would also be "You're crying?") And Style replies in honesty: "Duh. I know I talk all big, but even I am afraid of death."

In the last 24ish hours Style got to feel genuine fear for his life and Style doesn't want to die. He is not suicidal. And yes, he is cocky and confident, sometimes overly so and yes, despite all the threats to his life Style simply went about his day as if it's nothing, but as I said, Style still went through a few traumatizing situations in a very short period of time. Of course, it all had an affect on him. Of course part of him would be afraid. Style is human after all. He is human and he is feeling emotions. And he would really need some comfort right now.

Except all he gets is a "stop being dramatic" and an "I don't wanna listen". So Style turns away from Fadel and cries alone in the little corner of privacy he can get in the shared bed that he is currently chained to and can't leave. Style can neither see nor hear nor feel the hand Fadel is reaching out to him, is unaware of just how much Fadel is longing to give him that comfort Style so desperately needs before Fadel's mind wins over his heart and makes him pull back again.

No. 4: Road Trip Time

It's the next day, Style has rested and from what we can see Fadel has also stopped waving a gun into Style's face almost 24/7. Style is clearly having a blast driving through the country. However, the car is tried now and refuses to continue on. Turns out the radiator is broken. Fadel mocks Style for being a bad mechanic and instead of taking offense, Style comes back with sass and a Harry Potter reference and mimics shooting Fadel. Remember the "Style + guns" counter from last episode's meta? I know, I know, here in this case it's supposed to be a wand and not a gun, but especially with the sound effect the whole thing is quite reminiscent of a gun shot, so I'm counting it. Our "Style + guns" counter is now at 4.

There is no phone signal, so they have no way of calling for help. Style tells Fadel off for insisting on taking a short cut and Fadel brings up the police. Style responds: "What are you worrying about? I told you I wouldn’t run. What do I have to do for you to trust me?" Fun fact, his literal wording when he says "What are you worrying about" is actually "What are you afraid of?" or "What are you scared of?":

มึงกลัวอะไรอ่ะ [mueng - gluua - àrai - àh] you - fear, be scared of - what - [particle]

What I love about this is that Style doesn't let Fadel's verbal stabs dampen his good mood too much. He doesn't respond in anger and he's not really annoyed. In fact, when he tells Fadel that he's not running away, he even sounds a bit amused. And when he asks "What do I have to do for you to trust me?", it's not a verbal stab back at Fadel but it's a genuine question. Style honestly wants to know. Fadel tells him "I can no longer trust a single word that comes out of your mouth."

Style smiles and shakes his head in a mix of amusement (because of course Fadel would say that) and exasperation (because Style is getting quite tired of being back at square one and having to go through all the steps again). Style doesn't fight Fadel, though, and instead asks him what he wants to do. However, there is a bit of a bite to his voice, especially in the last sentence when he asks Fadel what he plans to do if now, wait for a car to pass by or what? He patiently waits for Fadel's reply. When Fadel tells Style to push the car, Style is obviously not very into that idea but instead of resisting by starting a fight he starts getting over-dramatic about potentially passing out, about the hot weather, about being hungry and so on. Look how poor I am, have some mercy on me. Fadel is unimpressed. He tells Style to stop whining and reminds him that he currently has just one good hand. Style yields, but not without sassing Fadel first: "I’ll just die of exhaustion before I ever meet your bullet." Fadel brushes past him to get into the driver's seat (I'm assuming to control the wheels of the car while Style is pushing?) and Style walks behind the car and starts pushing while they continue to bicker.

We don't know how long Style was pushing the car for, but it must have been a while because when Style asks for a break, the road is no longer made of asphalt like it was when the car broke down. Fadel doesn't talk back when Style wants to take a break, instead he wordlessly steps out of the car and lets him have it. On the way to the back of the car, Fadel pulls a paper bag and a water bottle out of his backpack and goes to lean against the trunk of the car while taking a sip. Style eyes the water bottle and Fadel notices. After a moment of hesitation, Fadel somewhat begrudgingly holds the water out to Style. Style doesn't immediately take it, but instead throws Fadel a look, checking if Fadel really is letting him have some water. Style only grabs the bottle after Fadel explicitly tells him to take it. Style obeys and immediately starts teasing Fadel: "Thought you’d let me die of thirst. Either a hitman like you still have his humanity, or you’re in love with me." Despite talking big about killing Style and shoving a gun into his face on multiple occasions, Fadel still cares about Style and his well-being and Style knows it. After the teasing words are out of Style's mouth, he attentively observes Fadel's reaction because he also knows Fadel would never admit to this out loud:

While Style is talking, Fadel turns around to grab some food out of the paper bag. When he turns back he makes a face at Style's words, then wordlessly leans back against the trunk again and takes a bite, ignoring Style completely. Style eyes the snack in Fadel's hands. Then he says: "You’re well prepared, huh? To think you packed snacks and drinks."

I personally think that Style wasn't just thirsty, but also hungry. He did do some physical work under the heat of the sun, after all. I think his words were an implicit prompt for Fadel to not just share his water, but also his food. But Fadel doesn't share, he just responds with "I am always well prepared. I have plans for everything". It's kinda funny he's saying this because it's not like Style was even given the chance to prepare for a trip in the first place. It's not like Style showed up at the hospital with a bag full of travel essentials in anticipation of getting kidnapped and going on an impromptu road trip.

Fadel continues with a stab at Style: "If it wasn’t for you and your friend, my brother and I would have had our long-awaited break already." Style almost rolls his eyes. He's so over this. What happened, happened and there's no way to change the past. All you can do is go forward from there. "Let it go. Shouldn’t you be looking forward to the future? Focus on the future. Let go of your grudge. What good would a grudge do—" Style doesn't get further than that because suddenly there is a bun in his mouth. And just in case the message isn't clear enough, Fadel also explicitly tells him to shut up. Style complains about Fadel's methods. "Couldn’t you have been more gentle?" This is actually funnier to me in Thai:

If you want to feed me, you can feed me gently. No need to be so forceful. มึงอยากป้อนมึงป้อนเบาๆ ได้ไม่ต้องแรงเลย [mueng - yàak - bpôn - mueng - bpôn - bao bao - dâai - mâi - dtông - raeng - loiie] you - want - feed - you - feed - gently - can - not - need - harsh - [particle]

The bun did not manage to shut Style up, on the contrary. Style just keeps talking. "I’m getting paranoid, though. We broke down in the middle of the woods. This is just like the beginning of a horror film. A murderer is gonna come after us in a minute." Fadel gently reminds him of his request to shut up: "The first to get murdered would be a yapper like you." Again, I wanna share my own translations of this bickering (Fadel's line specifically), because it amuses me how Fadel is more or less continuing Style's sentence but turns it against him:

S: A murderer will come and kill us any second now. อีกแป๊บนึงก็จะมีฆาตกรมาฆ่าพวกเรา [ìik bpáep nueng - gôh - jà mii - kâat-dtà-gon - maa - kâa - pûuak rao] in a moment - [sentence link] - will be - murderer - come - kill - us F: And will kill a yapper like you first. แล้วก็จะฆ่าคนพูดมากอย่างมึงเป็นคนแรก [láew gôh - jà - kâa - kon pûut mâak - yàang - mueng - bpen kon râek] and - will - kill - person who talks a lot - like - you - as the first person

I think by now everyone's made fun of Style for being afraid of a murderer when there is an actual murderer right by his side, but the thing is, it is quite interesting how fear is becoming a theme for Style this episode, something that @secriden goes into in this post. Something else she also points out is how Style not only worries about getting murdered himself, but also about Fadel getting murdered too:

[I]t's interesting how Style talks about being afraid of dying generally and specifically how harm could come to them from an external source. How the way his fear is orientated puts Fadel on the inside ("a murderer is gonna come after us"), on Style's side and someone Style wants to keep safe. And when Fadel makes the kind of snide joke about letting the hypothetical cannibals kill and cook Style, Style's solution still involves staying by Fadel's side. At no point does he ever stop referring to Fadel and him as a single unit, even after Fadel very explicitly frames Style as the only victim.

In this moment though, Style isn't actually afraid of a hypothetical murderer suddenly jumping out of the woods to kill them both. So when Fadel responds with one of his usual comments that show how much he "dislikes" Style, Style lets it go and instead continues a different fight: he doesn't wanna keep pushing the car. He did it to humor Fadel, but there really is no point in continuing to push a broken car through the middle of nowhere. Fadel refuses to leave his car. Style starts talking him into leaving it there for now and coming back for it. Fadel threatens Style once again: "If my car was stolen, not only would I kill you, I’d take a car from your garage." Style is very unimpressed by this threat. "Take it. Take them all. You own my life."

Fun fact, this is the literal translation of when he says the "own my life" part:

You already have control over my life. มึงก็คุมชีวิตกูอยู่แล้วนี่ [mueng - gôh - kum - chii-wít guu - yùu - láew - nîi] you - [sentence link] - (have) control - my life - [aux] - already - [interjection]

It's interesting, because being in control of something doesn't necessarily mean you own it. Style's life is still very much his own, but he's willing to give it all to Fadel: "Take my cars, my body, my heart. Take everything." And yes, he is mostly sassing Fadel with these words, but there is also a certain seriousness to it. Fadel can have especially Style's body and Style's heart. Fadel can have 100% of Style. Style has made that decision long ago and he's still set on it, despite or maybe even especially because of everything that has happened since. Style's body and Style's heart are entirely free for Fadel to take. It's a sincere offer and it's on Fadel to take it up. Fadel stares at Style in an attempt to figure him out. Then he goes to get his backpack, walks back over to Style and grabs the water bottle out of his hands and then starts walking down the path. Style follows as soon as he realizes that Fadel is listening to Style's suggestion of leaving the car there for now.

No. 5: Murder House

Again we don't really know how much time has passed but at some point Fadel and Style find a house. Style makes a joke about a cannibal family living inside and while I doubt he actually believed in the cannibal family, I do think he's a lot more anxious now than he was about the hypothetical murderer by the car. Fadel replies with a joke of his own to really underline his alleged disdain for Style: "Good. I’ll ask them to cook you. I’m getting hungry." Style doesn't think it's funny and says "Don’t say that. It’s scary." Fun fact, in Thai Style doesn't just imply that he's scared by calling the situation/the thought of a cannibal family scary but he explicitly says that he's scared:

I'm scared for real. กูกลัวจริงนะเว้ย [guu - gluua - jing - ná wóiie] I - be scared - true, (for) real - [particle]

His anxiety gets even more apparent when he suggests returning to the road. Fadel doesn't believe in Style's creative imaginations but does tell him that if a murderer actually shows up he'll shoot them. Then Fadel pulls out his gun just in case (and potentially also to make Style feel more protected) and starts walking towards the house. Style follows, not very reassured. We can tell that his anxiety has grown from the way how at the beginning of the scene Style and Fadel were walking side by side and Style was walking even slightly in front of Fadel but when they walk up to the house Style is now walking behind Fadel instead:

They make their way towards the front door and Fadel knocks and calls out to someone inside. There's no answer. Style is getting more anxious by the minute and urges Fadel to leave: "Hey, it’s not too late to turn back." Fadel ignores him and starts knocking and calling again. There is still no answer. Style hates it. "This is getting scary," he says and I think that this is the point where his growing anxiety turns into genuine fear. Fadel pulls at the door which actually opens up. "What are you doing?" Style asks and his voice sounds really stressed now. Fadel walks inside the house without hesitation. Style immediately follows, but scolds Fadel for trespassing. Style would rather be anywhere else right now than here. Fadel turns his head to Style and says "I don't care." Or rather he says:

You think I'm scared? แล้วมึงคิดว่ากูกลัวป่ะ [láew - mueng - kít - wâa - guu - gluua - bpà] and - you - think - that - I - (be) scared - ?

Style swallows. Fadel continues to call out for someone. Style squints at him. He wants to leave. Suddenly a baseball comes down the stairs. Style jumps and yells. Fadel's hand goes to his gun, ready to pull it any moment. A second later the baseball is followed by a guy who is being chased by another guy brandishing the bat to that baseball. The first guy goes to hide behind Style and with that Fadel and Style find themselves in the middle of a domestic argument. The baseball guy, Popcorn, yells at his partner for a bit and then moves to attack him with the bat. Despite Style's initial fear walking up to the house, instead of shaking the guy off and getting out of the way he reacts by acting as a human shield, putting his arms out in a conciliatory gesture and suggesting to talk it out over using violence. Somewhere in this series there is a point to be made about Style having a tendency to act like a mediator (when he's not actively picking the fight himself) and if I wasn't so busy with uni assignments and my meta series, that would certainly be a meta post I'd be looking into making.

It's only when Style starts speaking that it fully registers for Popcorn that there are currently random people standing in his house. He starts asking who they are and how they got into his house and Style stutters, completely overwhelmed by the situation and certainly not any less afraid. Before Style has managed to form a proper thought Popcorn accuses them of being his partner's side bits. This immediately has Style stressed again and he yells "no" over and over again. Popcorn isn't convinced and goes for another attack with the baseball bat. It's a bit unclear whether Popcorn had planned to attack only one of them or maybe all three of them but either way, the way Style was standing he definitely would have been the first in line to get hit. Fadel pulls his gun even before Popcorn has managed to take a swing at Style. Style stops yelling and stares at the gun in shock. Popcorn drops his bat on the spot and retreats back to the stairs. His partner comes out from his hiding spot behind Style to follow Popcorn. Together they attempt to scramble up the stairs. Style stands still, completely frozen in place, staring at the gun for a few seconds until he finally turns his head to the stairs to watch the odd pair get away from the gun.

I think there are multiple factors to Style's shock here: his anxiety had already started even before they'd entered the house and it only grew from there. Then, Popcorn and Jimmy's appearance hit them both out of nowhere and Style really got roped into it even more than Fadel did with Jimmy grabbing Style first to use him as a human shield and then Popcorn also almost assaulting Style with a baseball bat. I think part of Style freezing is the left-over shock from Jimmy and Popcorn's initial attacks. It all happens very quickly, after all. In fact, Fadel's gun is out before Style has even had the time to properly process the fact that he was about to die by baseball bat. And so I think part of Style staring at the gun is him reacting to Fadel's movement in general and then Style's brain using the sudden break in action to catch up with everything that was happening in the last couple of seconds. Wait, I'm being attacked with a baseball bat. Wait, there is a movement next to me. Wait, the baseball bat attack stopped. Wait, there is a gun. Wait, the attackers are gone. Wait, the gun was protecting me. Wait, what are these two weirdos doing, where are these two weirdos going.

Style's eyes widen a bit as he turns his head to watch Popcorn and Jimmy scramble up the stairs and he doesn't look that shocked anymore or even terrified. He squints his eyes a little and it looks like he's he's in thought, like he's trying to figure something out.

And I think there are a number of things he's trying to figure out. Like, what the fuck to make of Jimmy and Popcorn. Who the fuck those weirdos are, where the fuck they came from, and where the fuck they are going again. Why the fuck they attacked Fadel and Style, but especially Style like this. In the above gif I think Style's brain has finally finished processing what has just happened, is finally all caught up and I think Style actually isn't all that afraid of the gun in this moment because he does realize that the gun did just save him (them) from dying by baseball bat a moment ago. And Fadel did say earlier that he would shoot anyone trying to murder Style (them).

And another thing that I think Style is trying to figure out is whether Jimmy and Popcorn's lives are in danger now with Fadel's gun on them. When Style's eyes widen it's almost as if he's thinking Wait, I just nearly died and Fadel protected me from them and when he squints his eyes it's like Who are these people? Is Fadel actually gonna shoot them now? Do I have to go from worrying about being killed by them to worrying about them being killed?

No. 6: Mirror Mirror on the Wall

Fadel doesn't shoot them. Instead, he has Style tie them to the piano. I do think it's kinda funny how Fadel tells Style "If you’re done, go look for what you need. Hurry up" and Style just nods and sits down on the sofa instead. So much for hurrying up.

Popcorn starts lamenting his pain dramatically. Neither Style nor Fadel are in the mood to listen to a domestic quarrel. Popcorn goes on and on about how Jimmy cheated on him and Jimmy says "They all meant nothing to me". In Thai he actually says:

They were just people I was chatting with. มันก็แค่คนคุย [man - gôh - kâe - kon kui] he/she/they - just - people one chats with

I asked my friend about คนคุย [kon kui] and he explained it to me as "someone you talk to/flirt with (but something serious is not (yet) happening)". So the original is much more vague about how deep Jimmy's betrayal really runs. There's a chance that Jimmy actually did cheat on Popcorn, but there's also a chance that Jimmy was just talking to them without the intent of having a thing with them and Popcorn just took it the wrong way and made a big deal out of it. Personally, my guess is Jimmy did do something for Popcorn to have a legit reason to be hurt, because later Jimmy does talk about trying his best and having been lost, but I also think he might not be as much of a (serial?) cheater as Popcorn is making him out to be in his anger.

Jimmy assures Popcorn that he is serious with Popcorn, but Popcorn doesn't believe him and cries "You were never serious with me! You made me fall for you and then betrayed me". Don't mind me putting the Thai wording here. It will be relevant later (and also don't worry about the orange bit for now, this will also be explained later).

You tricked me into loving you and being crazy about you and then you do this. มึงอ่ะมาหลอกให้กูรักกูหลง มึงก็ทำยังเงี้ย [mueng - àh - maa - lòhk - hâi - guu - rák - guu - lŏng • mueng - gôh - tam - yang-ngíia] you - [particle] - come - trick, deceive - that - I - love - I - be crazy about • you - [sentence link] - do - like this

And this is the moment when Fadel throws Style a look. Style turns his head to look at Fadel as well. Message received.

Jimmy begs for Popcorn's forgiveness but Popcorn is still too upset and in his anger cries out: "The likes of you don’t deserve second chances. The likes of you who lead people on deserve nothing but death!" I'm gonna share a more literal translation again:

There are no chances for bad people. โอกาส​มันไม่ได้​มีไว้สำหรับ​คนเลว [oh-gàat - man - mâi dâai - mii - wái - săm-ràp - kon leow] chance - it - not - have - keep - for - bad people People that trick others into loving them all deserve to die! คนที่หลอกให้คนอื่นรัก สมควรให้ตายไปให้หมด [kon - tîi - lòhk - hâi - kon èun - rák • sŏm-kuuan - hâi - dtaai bpai hâi mòt] people - that - trick - that - others - love • deserve - that - die - all

It's no wonder that this is the thing that makes Fadel, who knows a thing or two about being tricked into loving someone, get up and offer a free kill. Style immediately jumps to his feet and reaches out an arm to Fadel in order to pacify him and to stop him from killing Jimmy. Because Style knows full well that Fadel is perfectly capable of doing so without batting and eye. And again we see Style take on the role of a mediator. Popcorn backs down and admits he was just being dramatic and doesn't actually want his partner to die. But for Fadel it's personal: "But he lied to you." Or Thai he says:

But he deceived you. แต่มันหลอกคุณนะ [dtàe - man - lòhk - kun - ná] but - he - deceive, trick - you - [particle]

Fadel points out the tricking part specifically and again we as well as Style get a hint about what exactly Fadel has been upset about and it ain't the snitching to the police. We aren't shown Style's reaction here but I think it's safe to assume he heard Fadel's words loud and clear considering he is standing right next to Fadel. Popcorn tries to calm Fadel down again by explaining they argue all the time and repeating that he doesn't actually want his partner to die. Fadel looks at them, his expression serious, his gun still pointed. Style observes Fadel carefully, watching his every move:

I think Style is very much afraid in this moment. But I don't think he's afraid of Fadel, I think he's afraid for him. And afraid for the people in front of them. After all, Style doesn't want others to be harmed. We see this over and over again in the way he threw himself into the fight at the host club before he knew Fadel was perfectly capable of fighting for himself, we see this in the way Style grabbed the gun at the bowling alley and pointed it at the shooter to keep him from doing any more harm than he had already caused and we see it now in the way Style immediately jumps to his feet, arm stretched out towards Fadel to try his best to interfere at any second if need may be. Style is afraid for Jimmy and Popcorn, because he knows full well their lives are in actual danger. And Style is afraid for Fadel, because he also knows how much pain this assassin life has caused him and he wants Fadel to quit for his (Fadel's, that is) own well-being. And Fadel's well being is something that is deeply important to Style. Style implicitly told Fadel to quit killing in episode 5 already and later this episode he will explicitly tell Fadel to quit killing again. And every shot that Fadel takes is a step in the wrong direction.

And another aspect that comes to play here is that Style is afraid of dying. This episode has been dealing with Style's very real fear and this fear has taken form in different ways: We started with Style being afraid of his own death by Fadel's hand (last episode for a moment at the pool, this episode when he was crying in the motel bed), then we saw him being afraid of his own death by someone else's hand (the fictional murderer that his mind kept imaging) and now we see him afraid of someone else's death. And yes, the first two were about Style's own death, so why would he be afraid dying now when this situation is about someone else's death, not his own? The thing is, though... Is it really? Is this really about someone else's death? Because the person Fadel is about to kill is Style's mirror. Who is to say that after Fadel has taken care of Style's mirror his emotions won't get the better of him and he'll turn around and shoot the real Style in his hurt, too, while he's at it? So Style doesn't take his eyes off from Fadel, because his own life is still at stake too and how Fadel acts now will give Style a hint about how determined Fadel still is to kill him.

But then Jimmy suddenly changes course. He is willing to accept death if it means Popcorn will be safe. Style is still standing there with his arm halfway up, still tense, still ready to jump into action if Fadel pulls the trigger while Jimmy goes into a plea for Popcorn's life. Jimmy ends it by announcing that he loves Popcorn, which is yet another sore point for Fadel. "If you love him, why did you fool him?" Fun fact, Fadel is so pissed that he actually uses rude pronouns with Jimmy:

ถ้ามึงรักเขามึงจะหลอกเขาทำไม [tâa - mueng - rák - kăo - meung - jà - lòhk - kăo - tam-mai] if - you - love - him - you - will - trick, deceive - him - why

Also, this time we do get to see Style's reaction to Fadel's words:

I think Style partly throws Fadel that look because he is still afraid that Fadel is so angry that he might actually kill Jimmy and is ready to interfere at any time and part of that look is Style taking in and piecing together what exactly Fadel is and has been upset about. During this entire conversation it's always been the topic of loving and tricking and tricking into loving that Fadel's had the strongest emotional response to. That's what Fadel is upset about.

Jimmy doesn't reply to Fadel, doesn't explain himself. Instead he turns to Popcorn and goes into a heartfelt apology. The two of them bicker for a bit. Style's has lowered his arm even more now, but it's still in perfect position to make a grab at Fadel any second if need may be. He checks on Fadel again when Jimmy asks Popcorn to let Fadel shoot him if Popcorn doesn't believe that Jimmy's love is true. The husbands-to-be bicker some more and then Jimmy dramatically offers himself up as a sacrifice again, orders Fadel to shoot him. Fadel clenches his jaw. He knows he can't. He looks over at Style. Style is staring at Fadel intently, observing him, watching him carefully.

And again, I think this stare is about both, checking whether Fadel is still gonna go in for the kill and also Style trying to read Fadel, trying to figure out where Fadel is at emotionally when it comes to his own relationship with Style. Style is actively in the process of piecing together what exactly he's done to make Fadel hurt this much and to make Fadel want to kill him. And I think at this point here, Style is no longer as terrified of a potential murder happening right in front of his eyes the way he was when Fadel had initially pulled the gun on Jimmy.

Speaking of Style's fear, a couple of days ago I saw a post in the tags where someone was asking why Fadel pulling a gun on him was hot to Style but suddenly when Fadel is pulling the gun on other people it's an issue and since this meta series is THE Style manifesto I figure I should maybe write a paragraph about that too. When Style is at the other end of the gun it's hot, because Style is 99% sure Fadel won't actually kill him, won't kill him specifically. But when Fadel is pointing the gun at other people, Style can't be so sure. After all, this is Fadel's profession, this is what he specializes in. Fadel does this on the regular and Style is very well aware of it. The thing is, Style doesn't actually want others to be harmed. We see this over and over again when Style goes and helps people, when Style acts like a mediator in situations. Only last episode Style told Kant that love can turn a bad guy good and I think that's ultimately what he wants for Fadel. For Fadel to quit the job, to stop killing people, to turn "good" for Style and also for himself (putting "good" in quotation marks, because to Style, Fadel is a good person already as he reveals later in the bathtub). Style has already suggested Fadel quits the job even back in episode 5 when Fadel opened up about his parents' murder and about not wanting a relationship in order not to cause trouble to anyone. Style is cool with Fadel pulling a gun on him if no harm is done, but he is not cool with Fadel pulling a gun on others if harm could be done. And at the end of the day Style is also not cool with Fadel pulling a gun on him either, if Style's own life is in actual danger from that. We saw as much by the pool and we saw it again this episode when Fadel was about to kill Style's mirror.

Another thing I find truly fascinating about this scene is how Popcorn and Jimmy are clear parallels to Fadel and Style, but not in the way one might expect. We have Popcorn, the loud and overdramatic one and then we have Jimmy, the calm and collected one. We have Style, the loud and overdramatic one and then we have Fadel, the calm and collected one. You'd think Popcorn would be a parallel for Style and Jimmy would be a parallel for Fadel, but psyche! The calm and collected Fadel relates to the loud and overdramatic Popcorn's problem while the loud and overdramatic Style relates to the calm and collected Jimmy's problems. I think there are various interpretations possible as to why that is. One thing I'd like to think is that Popcorn's loud whirlwind emotions are a representation of how Fadel is quietly feeling inside but would never ever let out in any way, because his walls are that far up. And then we have Jimmy, who did something wrong, but is so serious and sincere in his love for Popcorn, in his longing for Popcorn's forgiveness and in his desire to be with Popcorn, to get married to Popcorn. And as loud and overdramatic Style can sometimes be, Style is completely serious about his love for Fadel and his decision to be with him no matter what. It's not a joke to Style. And Style, too, is longing for that forgiveness, is longing to go back to being happy and in love, is longing to get 100% of Fadel's trust. Fadel has told him before that Style had 80% of his trust, but with the betrayal those 80% have taken a significant dip down. But Style is still serious about wanting those 100% and so he will work his way back up again.

Side note: Another thing I was thinking about was how Jimmy was so willing to take the bullet if it meant keeping Popcorn safe and it just has me wonder if Style will be taking a bullet to keep Fadel safe.

No. 7: Do You Hear the Wedding Bells

Instead of going for a kill, Fadel lets Popcorn and Jimmy have their wedding. Style officiates while Fadel hides in a corner, watching everything from a distance. Style, believer in the power of love, is very happy for Jimmy and Popcorn. He watches with joy as they exchange rings and what I love about this is how Style's joy has such a calm, grounded energy to it. Style prompts the happy couple to kiss and I am absolutely convinced that his laughter when Popcorn jumps Jimmy and Jimmy carries him towards the wall is all Dunk, not Style. Then Style turns his head and looks at Fadel. He is presented with an image of Fadel quietly laughing at this couple's joy and passion and happiness. Fadel then turns his head towards Style as well, but immediately looks away when he meets Style's eyes and his laughter fades.

Remember how in last episode's meta I said:

And it's just veeeery interesting that Style asks Fadel to marry him for the second episode in a row. If it happens again next episode, I'm calling it. But for now, let's wait and see 👀

Well... We didn't get a FadelStyle marriage proposal, but Style's mirror saying "You and I are getting married" to Fadel's mirror? And then the Style and Fadel mirrors actually getting married? With Style officiating the wedding? That's three episodes in a row with a wedding reference in connection to Fadel and Style. Episode 6 with the untranslatable pun, episode 7 with Style's proposal prank, now episode 8 with an actual wedding. Three is a pattern, no? Style may not have uttered the words "Will you marry me" to Fadel this episode, but I'm calling it anyway. These two are so getting married by the end of the series, aren't they...

(Also, sorry for writing so few words about this scene. I don't have words, I only have Big Emotions.)

No. 8: Dinners and Dancing

It's night time now and the four of them are having a nice wedding dinner. Style makes friendly conversation as usual, while Fadel sits there and barely socializes. Jimmy brags about his husband's cooking skills, and Style immediately responds with a brag of his own because his own boyfriend is just as good as cooking. And this time around I think the boyfriend drop is a lot more deliberate than it was at the beginning of the episode, because this time around he actually emphasizes it a little. The word "faen" is the word he stresses the most in the sentence. Then he turns to Fadel and teasingly compliments him: "His burgers are to die for." In Thai, what he says word for word is "make very delicious burgers":

ทำเบอร์เกอร์อร่อยมาก [tam - ber-gêr - à-ròi - mâak] make - burger - delicious - very

Note how there is no pronoun in this sentence. That means, the sentence can be taken either as "He makes very delicious burgers" because Style was just talking to Jimmy and this sentence is still addressed to Jimmy or the sentence could be taken as "You make very delicious burgers" from the way Style is saying this sentence directly to Fadel's face. You hear that? That's you. You're my faen that makes delicious burgers. I love you. Fadel scrunches his eyebrows, skeptical and confused. Style smiles brightly, grabs a spoonful of food and offers to feed it to Fadel. Unlike Fadel earlier that day, Style actually does feed him gently. In fact, he doesn't force the food nor the caring gesture onto Fadel. He holds out the spoon and once again waits for Fadel to go along of his own free will which Fadel awkwardly does after a moment of hesitation. Then, Style goes back to making friendly conversation and we get a bit of backstory about how Popcorn and Jimmy used to live in the city as salarymen and then came to live on a farm because Jimmy loves nature. Style finds in romantic that Popcorn left his good life for a more difficult farm life. Fadel still holds a grudge and asks Jimmy why he cheated when Popcorn had done all of that for him. Jimmy says it's only human to get lost sometimes and that he's come back home in the end. This has Fadel even more pissed. He bangs his fist onto the table so forcefully that it jumpscares Style right next to him. "Only because you take him for granted," Fadel snarls. Popcorn awkwardly says he's already forgiven Jimmy and Style puts his hand on Fadel's hand to calm him down. Fadel looks at Style and Style gives him a little bit of a nod, as if to say Hey, it's okay. You can let it go. You don't need to settle this argument for them. Fadel leans back into his chair, resigned.

Jimmy changes the topic and asks where Fadel and Style are going and Style immediately has a believable answer ready. "We’re heading south. Kinda hoped it was going to be a romantic road trip date." And let me just share a more literal translation about the road trip, because he shamelessly and also very deliberately this time throws around the word boyfriend again:

I wanted to go on a road trip with my boyfriend. พอดีตั้งใจจะมาขับรถเล่นกับแฟนนะครับ [poh dii - dtâng-jai - jà - maa - kàp rót lên - gàp - faen - ná - kráp] because - intend to - will - come - drive for fun - with - boyfriend - [particle] - [particle]

When Style says the word boyfriend, he turns his head and pointedly says "faen" directly into Fadel's face. Because he still considers Fadel his boyfriend, whether Fadel likes it or not. After all, they've never officially broken up. And no, multiple death threats that have involved an actual a gun do not count as a break-up as far as Style is concerned. Not if he still has any say in it. Because their relationship is that serious to him. Because from the moment they started dating, their relationship was never fake to him. Fadel squints his eyes. Popcorn then asks how they met and Style tells them: "I was kinda dared into taking him out, but then I actually fell for him." And again, just a little correction on the whole "I was dared to" part:

It started with me deceitfully flirting with him. มันเริ่มจากผมไปหลอกจีบเขาครับ [man - rêrm - jàak - pŏm - bpai - lòhk - jìip - kăo - kráp] it - start - from - I - go - deceive, trick - flirt - him - [particle]

Nowhere in the way Style phrased it does it say who thought of the idea of the fake flirting. Nowhere does it say whether someone else made him do it or whether it was Style's own idea. Style isn't putting the blame on someone else and in a way is actually even kinda making himself look bad here since it could be taken as Style having come up with the scheme by himself. Popcorn and Jimmy don't know that there are two other guys involved in this story. Popcorn says "Such is love, isn’t it?" and Style turns to look at Fadel for a moment who meets his eyes. Popcorn then continues with "It can start from deceit, but it zigzags its way into something beautiful at the end." Style turns to Fadel again, throwing him a very pointed look. Something beautiful, huh? Did you hear that? Fadel pointedly ignores Style and his pointed look. The newlywed husbands discuss the natural process of a relationship – bickering, fighting, boning. This greatly amuses Style and he looks at Fadel again. In fact, he stares at Fadel for several seconds until Fadel finally properly looks at him. And that's when Style raises an eyebrow at him. Well?

And it's fun, because the scene started out with Fadel doing a thing with his eyebrows and it ends with Style doing a thing with his eyebrows, almost like an answer.

Style's energy in this scene is very boyfriend-like. Fadel took a step back and withdrew at the presence of these two other people, and now that Style doesn't have to fend off Fadel constant stream of personal digs at him anymore, Style comfortably slips back into that boyfriend role. And it's not just that he's comfortable in this role, no, he is proud to be Fadel's boyfriend and proud to have Fadel as his boyfriend. Style brags about Fadel and his cooking skills and calls him his boyfriend to anyone who will listen. Style keeps Fadel in check when Fadel gets hotheaded and is absolutely up for going through the natural process of bickering-fighting-boning if Fadel is up for it as well. And most importantly, Style is simply just happy to be around him, happy to spend time with him. Style is proud of him and he is happy with him and he wants Fadel by his side. He means that choice from the bottom of his heart and so he will act accordingly. Especially now that he is finally starting to understand why exactly Fadel is hurting.

No. 9: Big Small Matters

The time for dinner is over and the time for dancing has started. Fadel and Style sit on the couch, they're watching the happy couple and especially Style is delighted at their happiness himself. After a while, Style turns to Fadel and says "Cute couple, aren’t they? Just like us". This is the third time this evening, a rather short time frame, that Style has made a reference to them being in a relationship (referring to Fadel as his "boyfriend" twice and now calling them a "couple"). And yes, he did blatantly refer to Fadel as his boyfriend when they were talking to the aunty at the motel too, but I think this time around Style is very deliberately and consciously doing so given his observations of Fadel earlier that day. They're a cute couple. Style means it. No joke. No trick.

Fadel is quiet for a moment, then says "We're not a couple". Definitely by sheer coincidence the song that Jimmy put on just happens to be about forgiveness and just happens to play the lyrics Just overlook what is trivial right before Fadel's reply. Style asks Fadel if he wasn't listening to the lyrics and quotes them back at him. Fadel is not amused: "You think what you did to me was 'trivial'?"

Now, the phrase that the song uses to say "trivial" is เล็กๆ น้อยๆ [lék lék nói nói] which word for word makes something like "small small little little". I asked my Thai language buddy if this word was like the word "Kleinigkeit" in German and he confirmed. There is no perfect English equivalent for the word "Kleinigkeit" but it basically means something like "small matter" or "little thing". Depending on the situation there could be other meanings that go along with it. For this context right here "no big deal" could even work in English. Now let me share what Fadel actually said:

You think that you deceiving me is no big deal? (lit. "is a small matter?" / "is small?") มึงคิดว่าเรื่องที่มึงมาหลอกกูเนี่ยมันเล็กๆ น้อยๆหรอ [mueng - kít wâa - rêuuang - tîi - mueng - maa - lòhk - guu - nîia - man - lék lék nói nói - rŏr] you - think that - thing, matter - that - you - come - deceive, trick - me - [particle] - it - small (matter), little (thing) - ?

Fadel uses the word หลอก [lòhk] here, which means "to trick" or "to deceive". That means, he doesn't just vaguely say "what you did to me" but he explicitly tells Style that the thing that has been bothering him is Style deceiving him, Style tricking him. By now you may have noticed a pattern to the orange color: The word หลอก [lòhk] comes up a lot this episode. I've bolded and marked this word orange all throughout this post so you can see just how many times and in which contexts this word is used. Style uses it during the dinner when he says "I was kinda dared into taking him out" (more literally: "It started with me deceitfully flirting with him"), Popcorn uses this word when he cries "The likes of you who lead people on deserve nothing but death!" (more literally: "People that trick others into loving them all deserve to die!") and Fadel uses the word when he says "But he lied to you. (more literally: "But he deceived you.") after Popcorn says he doesn't actually want Jimmy to be killed for real. And now Fadel uses it again to call Style out: "You think what you did to me was 'trivial'?" (more literally: "You think that you deceiving me is no big deal?").

Fadel is mad that Style tricked him, that Style deceived him. This much was already obvious from Fadel's emotional reactions to Popcorn and Jimmy's dispute, but now Style has explicit confirmation. This is where he needs to start working at if he wants to earn Fadel's forgiveness.

The newly-wed husbands walk over and invite them to dance, too. Style is up for it, but Fadel really doesn't want to. Style talks him into it and pulls him up. Reluctantly, Fadel gives in to Style just like he always does.

They dance a little, but at some point Style turns to Fadel, puts his hand on his shoulder, smiles, and tells him: "I know what I did wasn’t 'trivial.' But I’m ready to do anything to make you forgive me." Now for that first sentence you might think that in the Thai line Style repeats Fadel's words from earlier ("You think that you deceiving me is no big deal?") where Fadel used the word หลอก [lòhk] and you might think that Style would use it now, too. But actually, he does keep things more vague in the original itself as well:

I know that what I did was a big deal. (lit. "was no small matter" / "isn't a little thing") กูรู้นะเว้ยว่าเรื่องที่กูทำอ่ะ ไม่ใช่เรื่องเล็กๆ น้อยๆ [guu - rúu - ná wóiie - wâa - rêuuang - tîi - guu - tam - à • mâi châi - rêuuang - lék lék nói nói] I - know - [particle] - that - thing, matter - that - I - do - [particle] • not - thing, matter - small (matter), little (thing)

Maybe Style is referring not only to the fact that he tricked Fadel into loving him but also to how Fadel feels "cheated on" because he did end up falling for Style's (initially) insincere flirting, was head over heels in love with him only to find out Style wasn't his but was "the police's" and that the love wasn't real, was just a trick.

Or maybe there is something we don't yet know about? (Like, there is still the mysterious Boonterm mention from episode 3? Or, something that had COMPLETELY slipped my mind when I was writing my ep7 meta and so ended up writing something from a completely wrong perspective: Style has seen Keen before when he eavesdropped on Fadel and Keen's conversation and so in ep7 in the men's room it could also be taken as Style stopping Fadel from discovering Keen on purpose, which brings up the question... what's up with that????) Or maybe he just keeps it vague so that he can say it at a later point explicitly.

Anyway, so Style firmly tells Fadel that he knows he was in the wrong and that he's ready to do anything to earn Fadel's forgiveness and then pulls him into a hug while they continue to dance. This hug doesn't last very long, though, because next thing Fadel and Style know is that they're being attacked by Jimmy and Popcorn. Luckily, Style sees them in time and shouts Fadel's name in shock and to warn him. They both tumble down and Fadel has his gun out before they've even hit the couch. Fadel shoots into the air and while by now Style is very familiar with the image of Fadel pointing guns, this is the first time he's witnessed Fadel actually fire a shot (from a real gun, that is. Not a BB gun). A shot, that protected not only Fadel himself, but also Style. And while Style does still look at the gun for a moment again, he is nowhere near as frozen or worried as he was when Fadel pulled the gun on Popcorn and Jimmy the few instances earlier this episode.

For a second time that day, Fadel and Style tie up Popcorn and Jimmy. Style makes a comment about how he was off about the serial killer part but they were nearly killed by someone after all. Style's fear and anxiety from the day has proven to be justified. Fadel nags that Style trusts people to easily and that he's only interested in other people's love lives. Style doesn't see a problem with that: "I’m a hopeless romantic. Can’t help it that love stories touch me." Or in Thai:

I'm a romantic person. กูมันเป็นคนโรแมนติก [guu - man - bpen - kon roh-maen-dtìk] I - [marker] - be - romantic person I'm easily tricked by touching things. โดนหลอก��้วยอะไรซึ้งๆง่าย [dohn lòhk - dûuay - à-rai - séung séung - ngâai] be tricked, deceived - by, through - something - touching - easy

I just want to point out that Style uses the word หลอก [lòhk] here. Style gets tricked by romantic, touching things the same way as, you know, someone else in this room feels like he got tricked by romantic, touching things. It's like Style is saying What? Can you blame me? I, too, get tricked by love.

Fadel moves to remove the arm sling and Style goes to help him. Fadel lets him, doesn't block him. And I'm sure it was absolutely necessary for Style to put his arm around Fadel's shoulder like that for easier opening of the buckle. Duh. Style smiles a little as he slides off the arm sling. Fadel makes his way up the stairs. Style first looks at their tied up victims, then watches Fadel walk upstairs. There are certainly things on Style's mind. He'll be voicing them in the bathtub in a bit.

No. 10: Fadel in a Bath Fadel in a Bath Na Na Na Na Na Na Fadel in a Bath

Style finds Fadel in the bathtub and wants to join in. Fadel is reluctant at first, but is also not in the mood to argue with Style and so Style starts getting undressed. Now, usually I'd just skip past this part of Style getting naked and hopping into the tub because it's not a relevant process. However, during this process he does something very interesting: When he lays down his clothes he touches the gun, as if to make a grab for it before he goes and covers it with clothes.

I'm gonna be honest, I really have no idea what to make of this moment. As to why Style covers it, it could probably be because he wants it out of sight, out of the way, wants it gone. Style has made it very clear on multiple occasions that he doesn't want Fadel to be killing people and he will also be telling Fadel exactly that in just another minute as well. Away with the gun.

But if that really is the case, then I still don't understand why Style would touch the gun in the first place. If he wanted to hide it, he could have dropped his shirt down on it without bending down and touching it. But Style does go through the effort and the way he touches it almost looks like he is about to pick it up. The "Style + guns" counter goes up to 5.

Style is also very deliberate about it. He has his eyes glued to Fadel, watching him carefully through the entire process. That has me wonder if Style is maybe testing Fadel. Is he testing Fadel's trust, maybe? Because Fadel did say that the words out of Style's mouth are no longer trustworthy, but what about Style's actions? Are those still trustworthy? Technically Style is also still Fadel's kidnapping victim, so what would the kidnapper do if the victim goes for the weapon the kidnapper has been using to keep his victim in check? But Fadel's reaction is just a raised eyebrow and a bit of an eyebrow scrunch like What exactly is it that you're doing? It's a clear message, but at the same time Fadel doesn't even move a single muscle that indicates he is about to do something to get the weapon away from Style.

Fadel watches Style closely, but doesn't interfere. There is a certain amount of trust involved here, because Style could have easily made a quick grab for it and pulled the gun on Fadel for once.

I actually asked @secriden about her opinion on this because I didn't quite know what to make of it and she came back with an interesting perspective I also want to share:

Oh, I think the purpose of that was to show that Style is really choosing to be with Fadel. In that scenario Style literally has all the advantage— Fadel is naked in a bathtub and he's hampered by a broken arm and literally being in a slippery situation. Like if Style wanted to just take the gun and shoot Fadel there was little Fadel could've done at that point. But Style touches the gun and makes deliberate eye contact and then covers it with his clothes like he's saying "See? Even when you give me the chance to seize control what matters to me is another chance to fix our relationship." He's basically proving his own words when he said "I'll do anything to make it up to you." This includes letting a chance go literally take back his LIFE because the gun still symbolises a threat to Style's life (even if we know Fadel isn't going to go through with it).

After covering the gun with his clothes, Style gets into the tub and the first thing out of his mouth is: "I’m glad you didn’t kill them." And we know this to be true, because we saw how afraid and how tense Style was earlier when the gun was involved. Fadel reminds him that he only kills bad people and even if he disapproves of Jimmy's cheating, at the end of the day it's none of his business anyway. Style states "You’re pretty decent at your core, you know?" and I sigh in exasperation again, because it's not that Fadel is just "pretty decent", no, Fadel is a good person. And buckle up, because there are quite a few language notes to follow over the course of this scene.

Really, you're a good person at your core. จริงๆสันดานมึงเป็นคนดีนะเว้ย [jing jing - săn-daan - mueng - bpen - kon dii - ná wóiie] really, honestly - nature, core - you - be - good person - [particle]

Having made this assessment, Style wants to know how come Fadel is a hitman then and Fadel says he gets hired, there's nothing more to it. Style says it's not true that Fadel is doing it just for the money. Fadel comes back with a challenge: "Why not? You don’t know anything about me." In Thai he actually phrases it like a question which I like because it makes the challenge a bit more direct and Fadel's words sassier:

You know me well? มึงรู้จักกูดีเหรอ [mueng - rúu-jàk - guu - dii - rĕr] you - know - me - well - ?

(German speakers: the mood of this sentence is actually more like "Kennst du mich denn gut?", not just "Kennst du mich gut?")

So Fadel throws Style a sassy question, but Style has an answer, and what an answer it is:

I may not know your past but I know your present well. กูอาจจะไม่รู้จักอาดีตมึงแต่กูรู้จักปัจจุบันมึงดีนะเว้ย [guu - àat-jà - mâi - rúu-jàk - àdiit mueng - dtàe - guu - rùu-jàk - bpàt-jù-ban mueng - dii - ná wóiie] I - may, might - not - know - your past - but - I - know - your present - well - [Particle] Official subs: "I might not know who you were in the past, but I know who you are now."

It's not just that Style didn't know who Fadel was as a person in the past, but also Style was neither present in Fadel's past nor did Fadel share much about his past apart from the fact that his parents were shot. Style may not have been there for Fadel's past, but Style is very much there for Fadel's present, he's lived Fadel's present by his side for a while now and has gotten to know Fadel's life and Fadel himself really well. And Style is here for Fadel's present despite all things that should make him want to leave. Style is here for Fadel's present despite all the things he knows or maybe even because of all the things he knows. He knows Fadel is a killer, but he also knows Fadel is a good person. Being here for Fadel's present, Style's gotten to know many different side's of Fadel that make him want to stay in Fadel's present. Style smiles at him. Fadel can't run away from the mortifying ordeal of being known forever. It's too late. Style already knows him significantly, whether Fadel wants to acknowledge it or not.

Fadel looks away from him and when he looks back at Style, Style brings back the topic of Fadel only killing bad people and asks how Fadel decides. Fadel claims he decides based on his own experiences. Style tells him:

You're not a court passing sentences on other people's lives. มึงไม่ใช่ศาลมาพิพากษาชีวิตคนอื่น​นะเว้ย [mueng - mâi châi - săan - maa - pí-pâak-săa - chii-wít - kon èun - ná wóiie] you - not - court - come - judge - life - others - [particle] Official subs: It’s not your job to judge that kind of thing, you know? Just quit doing it. เลิกทำไปเหอะ [lêrk - tam - bpai - hùh] quit, stop - do - [particle] - [particle] Official subs: Why don’t you just quit? The more you keep doing this, the more your life will never be at peace. ยิ่งมึงทำแบบนี้ ชีวิดมึงยิ่งไม่จบไม่สิ้น [yîng - mueng - tam - bàep níi • chii-wít meung - yîng - mâi - jòp - mâi - sîn] the more - you - do - like this • your life - the more - not - end - not - end Official subs: If you keep going, it will never be over.

You may have noticed that in the interlinear translation of the last sentence it says "not end not end" which doesn't make a lot of sense, of course. Style actually uses two different words for "end" here. I asked my friend about it who explained that "not end" as in ไม่จบ [mâi jòb] refers to something external (the killings) while "not end" as in ไม่สิ้น [mâi sîn] refers to something internal (Fadel finding inner peace). The more Fadel keeps killing, the more he'll be stuck in this life and the more he won't be able to rest.

Fadel doesn't want to be lectured, but Style isn't actually saying all this to lecture Fadel. It's a well-meant warning because Style cares about Fadel and his well-being:

I just think there's probably no one who will warn you and mean well for you as much as I do. กูอ่ะแค่คิดว่าคงไม่มีใครเตือน​และหวังดีกับมึงเท่ากูละ [guu - àh - kâe - kít - wâa - kong- mâi mii krai - dteuuan - láe - wăng dii gàp - mueng - tâo - guu - lá] I - [particle] - just - think - that - maybe - there is no one - warn - and - mean well for - you - like - I - [particle] Official subs: I just think there’s no one out there who wants the best for you more than I do.

Fadel just stares at him and Style smiles back. He means it. After a moment, he puts his feet on Fadel and targets the nipple. First of all, it's time to be a little shit again and try to annoy his way back into Fadel's life and second of all, maybe I think he hasn't given up hope of getting some yet, even if Fadel is still back to being grumpy. Also, it's my personal headcanon that Style put his feet on Fadel for the same reason Dunk did: the tub is simply just too small for these two grown men.

Fadel reminds him that just because he lets Style mess with him it doesn't mean he won't kill Style. Style tilts his head. That's death threat number what? And yet, Style is still here and still able to mess with Fadel. "Go ahead. Blow my head off whenever you want." Style is here, ready to accept his fate. "I’m a bad person for making you fall for me, head over heels, and then betraying you. I deserve to die." And here is where the exact wording is important again. Literally he says: "I'm bad. I tricked you into loving me, I tricked you into being crazy about me, and then I betrayed you. I deserve to die."

Sorry in advance, but the following will be chaos. There is only so much formatting I can do in a tumblr post (I wish I could add a table!). The arrows indicate the literal translation. The colors will make sense a paragraph down.

→ I'm bad. กูอ่ะมันเลว [guu - àh - man - leow] I - [particle] - [marker] - bad Official subs: I’m a bad person → I tricked you into loving me, หลอกให้มึงรัก [lòhk - hâi - mueng - rák] trick, deceive - that - you - love Official subs: for making you fall for me → I tricked you into being crazy about me, หลอกให้มึงหลง [lòhk - hâi - mueng - lŏng] trick, deceive - that - you - be crazy about Official subs: head over heels → and then I betrayed you. แล้วหักหลังมึง [láew - hàk lăng - meung] and (then) - betray - you Official subs: and then betraying you. → I deserve to die. กูอ่ะสมควรตายเว้ย [guu - àh - sŏm-kuuan - dtaai - wóiie] I - [particle] - deserve - die - [particle] Official subs: I deserve to die.

The wording is significant, not just because our keyword หลอก [lòhk] makes another appearance, but because Style repeats Popcorn's (aka Fadel's mirror, the one voicing how Fadel feels inside) words back to Fadel. Let's compare with what Popcorn was saying: "You tricked me into loving you and being crazy about you and then you do this. [...] There are no chances for bad people. People that trick others into loving them all deserve to die!" (Style's words: "I'm bad. I tricked you into loving me, I tricked you into being crazy about me, and then I betrayed you. I deserve to die.")

→ You tricked me into loving you and being crazy about you and then you do this. มึงอ่ะมาหลอกให้กูรักกูหลง มึงก็ทำยังเงี้ย [mueng - à- maa - lòhk - hâi - guu - rák - guu - lŏng • mueng - gôh - tam - yang -ngíia] you - [particle] - come - trick, deceive - that - I - love - I - be crazy about • you - [sentence link] - do - like this Official subs: You made me fall for you and then betrayed me. [...] → There are no chances for bad people. โอกาส​มันไม่ได้​มีไว้สำหรับ​คนเลว [oh-gàat - man - mâi dâai - mii - wái - săm-ràp - kon leow] chance - it - not - have - keep - for - bad people Official subs: The likes of you don’t deserve second chances. → People that trick others into loving them all deserve to die! คนที่หลอกให้คนอื่นรัก สมควรให้ตายไปให้หมด [kon - tîi -lòhk - hâi - kon èun - rák • sŏm-kuuan - hâi - dtaai bpai hâi mòt] people - that - trick, deceive - that - others - love • deserve - that - die - all Official subs: The likes of you who lead people on deserve nothing but death!

As you can see, Style uses almost the exact same words that Popcorn used and they are all words that Fadel had an emotional reaction to earlier that day. Style's been paying attention. Style finishes with "I deserve to die" just like Popcorn claimed was the case and then closes his eyes and tilts his head back a little like Go on, shoot me. I am at your mercy and I am ready to die for my sins.

Two things are happening here with this little monologue: Style is being a little shit by shamelessly mocking Fadel's empty death threats. Style knows Fadel won't kill him over this, because if tricking people into falling in love had been enough of a reason to fall under Fadel's category of Bad Person™ then Fadel would have killed Jimmy earlier that day. But Jimmy is alive. And so is Style.

And the other thing is that Style is also letting Fadel know that he's figured out what Fadel is really angry about. Style is fully acknowledging now what he did that hurt Fadel so much. It's very different from earlier that day when the car broke down and Style was all "Hey, what happened happened. Let it go. Shouldn’t you be looking forward to the future? Focus on the future. Let go of your grudge." I think in the beginning Style assumed that while yes, Fadel would think Style's love was fake, the main thing he was angry about was Style being a snitch for the police. But then they ran into Jimmy and Popcorn. And then Fadel got unnecessarily offended at someone else's trickery in a relationship Fadel had nothing to do with. And Style paid attention. It's not that Style was working with the police that's the problem. The "working with the police part" is the thing that Fadel was already suspecting and expecting from the beginning. Fadel had been ready for that. That wasn't the problem. No, what hurts the most is that Style had the audacity to play with Fadel's heart first before "cheating" on him by being on the police's side. Fadel is upset because he thinks Style's love was insincere, that it was all just an elaborate trick while for Fadel himself the love was all real and Style now fully and actively realizes that. And acknowledges it. Except, Fadel denies his feelings: "Don’t be so full of yourself. I never fell for you."

Now, when Fadel tells Style not to be so full of himself, he actually tells Style not to คิดไปเอง [kít bpai eng]. Literally this phrase makes something like "think by oneself" and it's a phrase that my friend defined as "to come to a conclusion without there being any solid evidence for it". Fadel is basically telling Style something along the lines of "Don't make shit up, I never loved you." And yeah. He does indeed say "I never loved you" which to me sounds almost more hurtful than "I never fell for you":

กูไม่เคยรักมึง [guu - mâi koiie - rák - mueng] I - never - love - you

Fadel is a lying liar. And Style knows it. He stares at Fadel for a moment as if he can't believe Fadel really just dropped this with a straight face, then smiles a little. "You might be good at cooking and shooting, but you’re not very good at lying at all." And with that, Style immediately puts Fadel to the test. He starts slowly kissing his way up Fadel's arms, pausing to check in with Fadel and even more so to check his reaction. When Style gets close enough to Fadel's face, he slowly leans in for a kiss, his eyes fixed on Fadel's eyes. Style advances very slowly, giving Fadel plenty of time. Fadel actually tilts his head a little towards Style, almost welcoming a kiss, but when their noses are about to touch Fadel turns his head away. And you'd think Style would be annoyed about Fadel refusing him once again, but instead Style smiles. Because I don't think Style went into this with the goal of actually seducing Fadel, of actually trying to sleep with him again like he did in the race car bed in the beginning of the episode (though I'm sure he wouldn't have minded if Fadel had consented). No, this wasn't an attempt at getting into Fadel's pants. This was a test. Fadel refuses to kiss Style and Style smiles a little, looking almost amused. He was expecting this.

There it is. Proof that Fadel is a lying liar who lies. Proof that Fadel is mad about and hurt because of the exact things that Style has just listed only moments before. Proof that Fadel did love him. Does love him. Still loves him. Style keeps looking at Fadel, but Fadel keeps his head turned away, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Instead of calling Fadel out for being a liar again, Style raises his eyebrows and backs off.

He sits back down on his spot at the other end of the tub and makes a promise: "As long as I'm alive, I'll make you kiss me again." Fadel, who in the meantime has started looking at Style again, lifts his head and goes back to avoiding eye contact with Style once more. He looks around the room. Looks anywhere but at Style. Looks at the painting at the wall instead. And that's when Fadel realizes. He knows exactly where Bison is. And with this we are left to wait a week for the next episode (except the next episode will already be out by the time I manage to post this rip).

If you think I have already spent enough words on this scene, think again. Because the dialogue in this scene is really interesting when thinking back to the bed scene from episode 5. Back then Fadel told Style "The real me might be scarier than you think". Towards the end of episode 7 and all throughout episode 8 Style has been getting glimpses of that real Fadel that he was warned about. Back in episode 5 Style knew about "the real Fadel" mostly in theory and told him "I promise that no matter what you are like, I'll still like you". And Fadel told Style that Style can judge once he's ready. And what is Style's judgment now that he's gotten to witness some of the real scary Fadel? "You're a good person at your core." And Style's stance on liking Fadel no matter what kind of person he is? "I just think there's probably no one out there who will warn you and mean well with you as much as I do." Fadel warned Style that Style should be wary of him, but Fadel also only kills bad people and Style isn't bad people and Style knows it. Fadel refused to fully open up to Style and right now in his anger he is likely even less willing to open up to Style at all and yet Style knows him, knows his present so well. And Style was even close to witnessing Fadel murdering someone and even though Style would rather Fadel didn't (and doesn't and won't), Style still doesn't judge Fadel for it. And even if Fadel had killed Jimmy, it likely wouldn't have made Style love Fadel any less. Back in episode 5 Style made the decision to be by this man's side and now in episode 8 he still firmly stands by this decision. In fact, maybe even more so now. Both of these scenes end in a promise made by Style: As long as I'm alive, I'll make you kiss me again. One day, I'll be your 100%. Style is absolutely set on this. And it won't be long until he makes good on that promise. At least on the promise he made this episode.

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7)

[yubellia]

OH MY GOSH! Season 6 is here! And Cerise/Lila whoever was super creepy and amazing!

„Nothing. Hah. Nothing. You know nothing about me, about us, about them. I‘m everywhere. I‘m nowhere. I‘m a chameleon. Nowhere. You won‘t get anywhere.“

——~~~——

Not gonna lie, I really don‘t like what they did to Marinette. The girl is struggling…. We get that…. But did they really have to make her act like this? She can‘t even really keep it together als Ladybug anymore. She can be lucky that the miraculous prevents people from noticing the obvious similarities.

But back to Cerise! We don‘t see her face in the entire episode. We only have her voice but that’s enough already. After all, sound is almost more important than visuals. What would Micheal Myers be without the iconic sound. Try it. Mute the movies. It won‘t work.

But anyway. I wonder, when she akumatized that girl, this is how she handles things. She just talks and offers a solution like a good friend. Siding with her victim. She doesn’t even demand anything. No „I’ll give you that power. In return I want Ladybugs and Chat Noirs miraculous!“ No. None of that!

Also, the camera zoomed in, almost like we were going into the victims head. Is this what actually happens to you, when you get akumatized? Bah! Imagine having Gabriel in your head like that! No sir. Thank you!

Could it be, that up until now, we saw the whole process from the outside? That would be so cool. It would also mean that Cerise clearly….. goes deeper that Gabriel could.

Also, we learned something very important. Apparently, they don‘t know better yet, Cerise akumatizes people randomly without the goal to attack. She just lets them cause chaos and the heroes come out. At first.

We also learn that Cerise writes EVERYTHING down!! Like girl, be careful with your hand! That must hurt! Also she technically creates tons of evidence. If she looses ONE of those notebooks, it’s game over. Unless she writes in code….. would not be surprised.

Also the end of the episode, where she is in the café „Nothing. Hah. Nothing. You know nothing about me, about us, about them. I‘m everywhere. I‘m nowhere. I‘m a chameleon. Nowhere. You won‘t get anywhere.“

I am not sure if she completely lost it NOW, if she ALWAYS was crazy like this, or, with her disguises and all, she is completely stating the truth.

But I know one thing.

I LOVE HER FOR IT!! I can‘t wait to actually see her! Also it seems like she upgraded her miraculous, just like Marinette did with all the others. At least that’s what I heard, could be a leak. She got the guardians book too after all from Nathalie in that one episode, together with all of Gabriel’s secrets.

So yeah… the new season started…. A bit meh. I really wish they could have given us the REAL first episode. But it seems like there is something wrong with the continuity anyway. Alya and Nino interviewed Sublime‘s mom, but she didn’t appear yet…. Strange….

But anyway, we might be missing some lore here.

I am still excited for more.

[mj-iza-writer]

I’ve never requested something from someone before but I feel like something of a whumpee who has only ever been tortured for Whumper’s amusement and has been made to feel useless and suddenly one day whumper decides to make Whumpee like a pet/slave and whumpee is confused but happy to get even the smallest of rewards while also knowing Whumper could rip it all away if they wanted to for any reason. You don’t have to write it just something I’ve thought about and decided it couldn’t hurt to ask.

I am honored to be your first request. I do apologize about the wait though. I hope you enjoy the story.

"Do you need a reminder of your place?", Whumper pushed Whumpee onto the floor, "hmm? I'll be happy to knock it back into you."

Whumpee's lip quivered as they looked up at Whumper. They hadn't done anything wrong.

"N-no Master... I-I'm sorry", Whumpee lowered themself to the floor. They squeezed their eyes shut as they rested their head onto the hardwood.

"That's more like it", Whumper chuckles as they rest their shoe on the side of Whumpee's head, "nice and obedient."

Tears snuck out of Whumpee's eyes and roll onto the floor.

"You are nothing.... the only use I have for you is the housework you do", Whumper digs their foot into Whumpee's head, "lick my shoes. Your mouth isn't useful for anything else. There you go", Whumper jeers as Whumpee turns their head slightly and licks the bottom of their shoe."

"You're a filthy animal", Whumper sneered, "a simple mutt."

"Yes Master", Whumpee whispered before offering their tongue again.

Whumpee had collapsed tiredly on the hallway floor that night. They were barely able to keep their eyes open from the day they had just experienced. They felt that it was getting worse as the days passed.

Whumper had kicked them a few more times before going to bed.

Whumpee was too tired to even worry about their injuries.

"I would love to have a good day....", Whumpee whispered, "tomorrow... maybe."

The next morning they limped into the kitchen.

They froze when they looked down and saw two dog dishes set out.

"Oh good", Whumper sauntered out, "I have a new role for you to play for me. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Whumpee quickly nodded in response. It was better to be agreeable. Much safer to say yes.

"Good. Now get into a crawling position", Whumper pointed at the floor, "you are a mutt. So it's only fitting that you act like a dog. You'll still be required to do your chores, but you can no longer walk on two feet. You may not speak unless I tell you to. You can only go outside to use the bathroom."

"O-outside?", Whumpee glanced at the door.

"I have to let you out. You can not leave without permission", Whumper grinned.

"It-its cold outside Master", Whumpee whimpered.

"It will be even colder for you too. Take off your clothes. You lost that privilege", Whumper smirked evilly.

"M-my clothes", Whumpee looked down at their faded, thin clothes. These were all they had.

"Strip... stop asking stupid questions", Whumper yelled.

Whumpee shook violently as they pulled their clothes off.

"You can keep the underwear. No one wants to see that", Whumper sighed, "actually when did you last take a shower?"

Whumpee covered themself out of embarrassment, "it's been a while", they whispered.

"The chores can wait. I can't have a dirty dog. Bath time", Whumper pointed.

Whumpee awkwardly stared at the tub while Whumper filled it.

Scenarios popped in their head of how badly this could go. Be dunked under water, soap shoved in their mouth or eyes.

"Alright, hop in", Whumper stood aside.

Whumpee looked up nervously, "please Master forgive me for whatever I've done. Please, I don't want you to drown me."

"Get in", Whumper clenched their jaw.

Whumpee cowarded back a little before inching to the tub. Their legs felt like jelly as they got into the water. To their surprise, the water was warm.

"I guess you're using my shampoo and soap", Whumper reached for a few things, "at least this will make you smell better. You were getting a little rancid. Your nails look gross too, so I'll trim those today."

Whumpee looked sadly at their nails. Thoughts of their nails being pulled off raced through their imagination.

Whumper started to rinse Whumpee off.

Whumpee jumped back and yelped.

"Sit still", Whumper ordered as they splashed the water at Whumpee's face.

Whumpee sputtered as the water dripped from their face.

A few minutes later, Whumper was massaging shampoo into Whumpee's hair.

Whumpee moaned quietly as Whumper worked.

"Does this feel good?", Whumper paused to look at them.

"Yes Master", Whumpee whispered, "thankyou for your kindness."

"Ymhmm", Whumper hummed.

Whumpee stared up at Whumper at they trimmed Whumpee's nails and even filed them to a nice shape.

"Why are you staring at me?", Whumper frowned.

To Whumpee's surprise, Whumper was actually talking gently to them.

"I-I apologize", Whumpee whispered, "I just haven't had this done for a while. Thankyou so much. Even just these few minutes have been so uhm comforting. I-I'm really thankful."

"You're welcome. I'm just wanting to give this a try for a little while. I'm getting bored with abusing you. Need something refreshing to do, and I've been wanting a pet but can't have one here."

Whumpee nodded, "may I ask what things you would have me do in this role? I want to be able to give you what you want Master."

"I don't know yet" Whumper looked at Whumpee, "for right now... just keep doing your chores. Never mind what I said earlier about the no speaking at least. Just remember your manners."

"Yes master", Whumpee nodded.

A few days passed, and Whumpee was the happiest they had been in a long time.

Whumper had taken such good care of them. Yes, they still had to do the chores, but Whumper hadn't hurt them in so long.

Whumpee treaded very carefully still. They didn't want to chance Whumper getting mad and ruining this chance.

They were a pet, yes, but they were being taken care of at least.

They jumped when they heard Whumper yelling and slamming things in the kitchen.

"No please", Whumpee whispered, "not yet."

Their master's temper was flaring. That often meant Whumpee would be the punching bag to help calm them down.

"Whumpee!", Whumper yelled.

Whumpee gulped, it was over.

They slowly crawled to the kitchen and peeked around the corner.

"Don't just stare at me. Clean it up", Whumper pointed at a puddle on the floor, "I was trying to fill your water dish, and my hand slipped and I dropped the bowl."

Whumpee quickly got up and grabbed a small towel.

They got back down and quickly wiped the spilled water.

"Go-good pup", Whumper sighed, "fill up your water dish for yourself, I guess. I'm going to go sit down."

Whumpee nodded and watched as Whumper partially limped out of the kitchen.

Whumpee had noticed recently that Whumper was acting differently.

They crawled out after Whumper, and watched them sit down.

"What are you looking at?", Whumper sighed as they sat down.

"May I ask a question Master?", Whumpee whispered.

"I guess", Whumper frowned.

"Yo-you have been acting very differently for a few days. Not even with how you've treated me. Are you okay?

"Bold question for a slave to ask a master. Do you want to go back to me hurting you or something?", Whumper glared.

"N-no Master, I've enjoyed this more than you will ever know. I just... you seem like you are hurting. I know what it feels like to hurt. I just, uhm... hope you're okay", Whumpee looked down.

Whumper sat back in their chair, "I'm not sick, I'm just getting old. I'm not able to knock you around like I use too. I thought maybe making you into a pet would ease some of that. I have honestly kind of enjoyed it as well."

"I've been so nervous about you taking it away from me. I have enjoyed being your pet", Whumpee looked down, "I do kind of miss using the inside bathroom though."

"Yeah, you can go back to doing that. It's too cold for me to stand out there with you", Whumper grinned, "I don't plan on changing this any time soon. Just don't do anything stupid, at least."

"So you are okay then?", Whumpee looked at them worriedly.

"Yes, I'm fine... just old", Whumper patted their lap, "come on, let's watch a movie."

Whumpee took a second to realize what that meant. They crawled forward to get closer.

"You can come up here. Come on", Whumper patted on the couch.

Whumpee looked at the couch questioningly before jumping up.

It wasn't along until Whumpee was allowed to rest their head on Whumper's leg.

Whumpee blinked slowly a few minutes after Whumper started massaging their head.

"Feel good", Whumper chuckled.

"Y-yes Master?", Whumpee answered almost questioningly.

"You seem unsure", Whumper startled to turn the TV on.

"I-I'm not use to this", Whumpee answered, "it does feel good though."

"That's good", Whumper sighed, "that's good."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

@bacillusinfection @whumpsandbumps

@tobiasbones @octopus-reactivated

@string-of-broken-hearts @weirdthingweee

@kawaii-cakes @phoenixpromptsandstuff

[catharticconsolation]

depollute me, pretty baby

carmen berzatto x reader (teen au!)

smut mdni

virgin!reader x virgin!carmy

notes/ warnings: first time sex, awkwardness, family gatherings, cluelessness

a prequel to an ask about aftercare after a first hook up, should be coming soon, hopefully with a bot! this is my first time writing smut, so be prepared!

𖦹𖦹𖦹

carmen doesn't know what to do when mikey stops him mid bonfire.

it's been a nice night, just you and carmy cuddled up in a chair while you watch the feeble attempt of a fire burn in the middle of the garden, sharing a warm bottle of beer between you that's been resting between the warmth of your thighs. it's dark, and natalie has passed out asleep in a deck chair, mikey and richie both sat far too close to the fire for the two of you to hear them.

it's normal. calm. everything that carmen thought his family wasn't.

so when he slips inside to retrieve a new drink from the kitchen fridge, he's wrapped up in this cozy little bubble of serenity, socked feet shuffling against the kitchen tile. he didn't even know that michael was in the kitchen until he felt a heavy hand clap his back and a little silver and blue, square packet being slid into his hand.

a condom.

a fucking condom.

"michael, what the fuck?..," he can't stop the curse from slipping out of his mouth, brows furrowing in embarrassed disgust, backing off and away from his older brother as he looks at the condom in his hand as if it's burning through his skin.

"c'mon carm, get your dick wet for once..," it sounds crude and wrong coming out of michael's mouth, and carmen just knows that the older man is thriving off of his discomfort. "we've seen you oggling at 'em all day, carm, don't be so frigid.."

....

carmen shows it to you when he gets outside, and he's so glad that your cheeks flush the exact same way that his did. so he's not a freak.

"wait.., wait, wait... your older brother wants us to fuck?..."

"well..., yeah, i guess..," it comes out as a hum as he settles in the rocking chair beside you, holding the bottle of beer up to your lips and letting you sip.

there's always been a casual sense of intimacy between you, something sweet and touchy and lovely. but it's never been sexual. just hand holding and kissing and arm linking and hair stroking. sex seems big. hell, even making out seems big.

and it still seems big as the two of you sit on carmy's bed, trying to ignore the countless dc posters on the walls, the spying eyes of batman and starfire as they watch the two of you awkwardly manoeuvre into this odd, tangled position.

...

it took ten minutes for carmen to get your bra off, but he still insisted that he do it himself. and now, you're curled up together on top of his bed, in nothing but granny panties and boxers, just nuzzling against each other like cats.

neither of you know what to do, and yet hands start wandering. but it's slow and careful and steady. nice. and loving.

carmen's face is in your neck when your hand finds it's way into his boxers, fingers tickling down, down, down, trying to map out the shape of his half hard cock from just touch alone.

"holy fuck, i'm touching a penis..."

"peach, shut up..."

"m'sorry, it just feels different than what i imagined..., squishier.."

"my dick's not squishy.."

"yeah, it is.."

...

getting the condom on is a hassle, and you're pretty sure it's ripped by the time that carmen gets his tip to line up with your hole, the right one this time, and it snags deliciously at the little puddle of slick that sits in the groove of your entrance.

carmy moves slow, and his face is pressed right up against your cheek, hands cradling the sides of your head as he pushes in, deep.

"you okay? is it hurting? am i hurting you? i can stop.."

"carmen, i'm fine, i'm okay.. it's nice.."

silent. so awkwardly silent. just heavy breathing and shuddered breaths. until carmen lets out this guttural whine, a moan, and both of you burst into laughter, your abdomen spasming nicely, making his cock twitch and hit your walls in just the right spot.

"oh, fuck, carm, i think i'm cumming..."

that's all it takes for carmen to burst, cumming the quickest he's ever cum, a lot quicker than when it's just him, his fist, and your instagram highlights. and when he pulls out, the condom is nearly full.

"fuckin' love you.., love you, love you, love you, love you, love you..."

before you know it, there's slobbery kisses being splattered all over your face, saliva and swollen lips covering every inch of skin as he flops down on top of you, spent and tired and so utterly proud of himself.

"carmen, you're sticky!.."

note: please send in more asks and requests for both bots and blurbs!

[nerdycheol]

Hii!! Can I request Vernon + "Is everything a joke to you?"

I'm a killer for angst and I just love crying to it 😭😭

😭 i am a sucker for angst anon, here is your request i hope i did justice to your thought --

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, its rhythm amplifying the emptiness in the room. You sat at the table, a half-melted candle in the center, next to a cake you had spent all afternoon making. Your phone sat beside you, untouched, except for the countless times you had checked it, hoping for a message or a call.

It was your anniversary—three years together—and you’d thought tonight would be different. You’d planned something simple, something special. But the dinner had gone cold, the wine unopened, and Vernon still wasn’t here.

When the front door finally opened, the sound of his footsteps was so familiar that it almost hurt. You didn’t turn around, not at first, letting him fumble with his shoes and sigh as he dropped his bag on the floor.

“Hey,” he said, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just walked in two hours late.

You turned slowly, your face unreadable, though your chest felt like it might cave in from the weight of everything you’d been holding in. “You’re late.”

He blinked, glancing at the table for the first time. His eyes landed on the candle, the untouched food, the cake. “Oh.”

“Oh?” you repeated, your voice calm but trembling at the edges. “That’s all you have to say?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, already defensive. “I got caught up at the studio. I told you it might run late.”

“You didn’t tell me it would be this late,” you replied, your voice sharper now. “And you didn’t even think to call or text?”

Vernon sighed, clearly irritated. “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been late.”

“No,” you said bitterly, standing now. “It’s not the first time. That’s exactly the problem, Vernon. It’s always like this.”

He frowned, his brows knitting together. “You’re overreacting. I didn’t miss anything that important—”

You cut him off, your voice breaking. “Not that important? Do you even realize what today is?”

He opened his mouth, hesitating for a moment, and you saw it—his realization. The flicker of guilt in his eyes. But it wasn’t enough.

“God,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “You forgot. Again.”

“I didn’t forget,” he said quickly, but the lie was too obvious, too weak. “I just... lost track of time.”

“That’s not the same thing!” you yelled, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “You always have an excuse, Vernon. Every time. And I always let it go because I tell myself you didn’t mean to, that you’re just busy, that you’ll do better next time. But there’s always a next time. And I’m always the one sitting here, waiting, hoping you’ll finally prove me wrong.”

“Come on,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like, Vernon?” you demanded, stepping closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like I’m the only one trying in this relationship. Is everything a joke to you?”

His head snapped up at your words, and for a moment, something flashed in his eyes—guilt, maybe, or frustration. But it wasn’t enough.

“I’m not joking,” he said quietly, though the defensiveness lingered in his tone. “You’re acting like I don’t care, but I do. I just... I have other things going on, too.”

“Right,” you said, your voice hollow. “And I’ll always come second to those things, won’t I?”

He didn’t answer, and the silence stretched between you, heavier than any words could have been.

You exhaled shakily, wiping at your eyes. “You know what? I’m done. I can’t keep doing this, Vernon. I can’t keep hoping you’ll show up for me, only to be disappointed every time.”

“Wait,” he said, stepping toward you, his voice cracking. “Don’t do this. We can talk about it.”

“We’ve talked about it,” you said, your tone firm despite the tears threatening to fall. “And nothing ever changes. I love you, Vernon, but I can’t keep loving someone who doesn’t love me enough to even try.”