#lmao just writing finally
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peristalsis - iv
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selkie!soap x reader. depression. suicidal ideation. strangers to "lovers." social isolation. self loathing. hint of neurodivergent reader. manipulative soap. . Running away from life to the Scottish Hebrides, you meet a man who won't leave you alone. . Masterlist. Ao3.
previous
The other side of the bed is empty the next morning, when you wake up.
You feel it as the dregs of sleep slough off—an absence of weight. The heavy drape of the bedsheets around you. The lone sound of your own breathing, and nothing more—
It shouldn’t punch a hole in your chest. You shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. What is for other people is not for you.
But you are. It does.
The little speck of hope that has survived every attempt of yours to exterminate it had flared a little brighter, fed by Johnny’s attention. A distant star in a clouded sky, finally reaching earth with its light. Stupid. You know better by now, and it should too. You’ve done this before, a hundred different times, a hundred different ways. The outcome is always the same.
You sweep your hand over the empty spot—
It’s still warm.
Your eyes snap open. At the same moment, you hear movement from somewhere else in the cottage, and then, through the open bedroom door, the warm aroma of coffee and cooking food wafts in.
You sit up. Pull the sheets up with you, clutched to your chest.
��Johnny?” you call. Tentative. Unsure.
“Aye!” a cheerful brogue responds from the kitchen. “Don’ move a muscle, I’ll be right there.”
Something sharp and hot pushes through your veins; the corners of your vision darken with it.
You realize you’ve stopped breathing, and inhale. Your need to be contrary subsumes completely underneath your shock. You sit completely still, suspended in place, as something sizzles in the kitchen.
He traipses into the room in nothing but an apron, carrying a tray with two plates of food and two mugs of coffee, which he sets on the end of the bed before he slides into the empty spot beside you.
You stare as if at a wild animal—if he notices your surprise, he doesn’t take it into account as he curls an arm around your neck.
“Mornin,’” he says, dragging you in for a kiss.
A long kiss—his mouth parts yours to permit his tongue, which he slides against yours as his fingers press upward into the soft underside of your chin. He inhales deeply before his lips leave yours, and you reel, listing toward him, as he pulls away.
“Sleep well?” he asks, hand dropping to your sternum to drag his fingertips between your breasts.
You blink several times. “Uh. Yes.”
“Bet you did,” he says with a grin. Then, he taps your neck—ink-blotting soreness with ungentle fingertips. “Sorry about this. Got too into it.”
He does not sound sorry in the slightest.
“It’s fine,” you say anyway, still blinking in whiplash.
He leans away to pull the breakfast tray up into both of your laps. “Made a classic English breakfast this time, but you eat what you like, bonnie.”
A classic English breakfast turns out to be eggs, sausage, bacon, beans, seared cherry tomatoes, and toast, which Johnny digs into with the gusto of the starving. You select a crunchier-looking strip of bacon and break it between your teeth, but you don’t pay much attention to the taste.
Johnny. His mohawk is mussed from the night’s sleep, and other than the apron, he really does appear to be completely naked. It seems like the first thing he did, when woke up, was not shower or dress, but head to the kitchen to start cooking.
For you. Again.
“Why?” you ask aloud.
He turns to you, one cheek rounded with food, dark brows lifted over bright eyes. “Hm?”
“Why did you make breakfast? You could’ve just left.”
Surprise on his face, freezing his expression. Then, consternation, dragging it down. “I wouldnae do that to you, bonnie.”
He says it so gravely—as if even the notion that he would make an early getaway amounts to betrayal on the deepest level.
“It’s,” you say, “it’s fine. It’s not like this…like…”
Like this meant anything. But didn’t it? You meant to punish yourself, with him as your scourge. A necessary reminder—a bitter pill you must swallow, over and over again.
Who better to deliver it than Johnny, because, hopes aside, he with his rockstar grin and wandering hands had not given off the slightest indication that he would stay the morning after a one-night stand. Let alone get up before you to make breakfast.
You had relied on that.
“I wouldnae do that,” he repeats.
Instead—here he is. Warm, bare shoulder against yours. Lashes dark over an insistent gaze.
You break eye contact, looking at your plate. “Whatever,” you say, for lack of any other response.
You pick at your food—it’s good, same as the meal he made you last night. Not pretentious, like he’s trying to impress you, but genuine and hearty. Tasty, the way breakfast in bed should be.
Puzzle pieces forced to fit together, despite belonging to different areas of the composition. A round peg the perfect diameter for a square hole. Incongruous. Confusing. Untrustworthy.
You continue to study him out of the suspicious corner of your eye as he goes back to eating, though it isn’t exactly any hardship. It seems to be a rare sunny day on the island, with warm, buttery light streaming in from the window. It catches the dark hair on his forearms, casts the sculpted expanse of his freckled shoulders in stronger repose.
You see it again—the wound on the side of his head. Nearly hidden by the dark stubble of shaved hair, but not invisible.
“What happened?” you ask.
He looks at you with a question on his face, and then sees the direction of your gaze. He nods to himself, as if he’s been expecting you to ask this whole time.
“Told you I served,” he said, setting down his fork. Then he notices you aren’t eating much. “Ach, bonnie, don’ let it get cold. You eat, and I’ll talk, aye?”
Begrudgingly, you spear some egg and clamp it between your teeth. He smiles indulgently, and continues.
“So you met Price. Was on an operation with him in London. Chasin’ this real bad fucker in the subway tunnels. He was tryin’ to set off a bomb, but we got to him first. Well, we chased him off the payload, anyways, n’ I’m demo, so I’m the one can defuse it.”
He looks at you. You bite down on a corner of toast.
“Guess he figured that part out, ‘cause not long after I get to the wires he comes back. Nearly takes Price out, so I get after him. Stupid mistake. Price can take care of himself, an’ we had backup. Fucker ended up shooting me in the head.”
Halfway swallowing that same bite of toast, you choke. “You—you got shot in the head?”
He nods. “Aye.”
You look again at the scar near his temple. A starburst, in a whorl of dark hair. Dead center in the silhouette of his profile, as if a paper target at a shooting range.
“Johnny—how the fuck are you still alive?”
He leans back against the headboard, folding one arm behind his head, exposing a thatch of curly dark hair in his pit. He runs his hand through the back of his mohawk, mouth canted at an angle.
“Got no fuckin’ idea, bonnie,” he says.
The expression on his face is, perhaps, the most human you’ve ever seen it. Consternation, maybe. Confusion. Aggravation. You’re not sure what you would call it, but just looking at him, you understand that that exact question is one he’s been asking himself since it happened.
Asking, without finding an answer.
“I’m,” you stammer, “I’m sorry. That’s a stupid thing to—I’m sorry.”
He turns to you and smiles. Chagrined, but forgiving. “It’s all right, bonnie. Have some coffee for me, why don’t you?”
You lift a mug and sip. He’s added cream and sugar to it, the way you’d made it yesterday morning.
“So, I survived it,” he goes on. “Woke up in the hospital a few days later. One in a million chance, they said, but I still had to learn to walk again, an’ I was out. Out, out. Medical discharge, thank you for your service, enjoy the rest of your life. The boys went off to kill the guy in Kastovia or Russia or somethin.’”
Quick as the bullet in his brain. Matter-of-fact. The story ending without him, with no hand reaching out to pull him back in.
Well, not quite—
“And then John Price came here with you,” you say.
He gives you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes; strained, much like the only smiles you have to offer these days. “Nah. Came out by myself. He came after I’d been here awhile. Told me he was ‘worried about me.’”
The way this conversation is supposed to go, this would be the part where you would say of course he was worried.
“But he didn’t get it,” you say instead, seeing it etched into the grooves of his expression.
Johnny, in exile, alive when he shouldn’t be. Reckoning with the fact that everything he cared about did not care nearly as much about him. Figuring out how to live without anyone else.
Breakfast turns inert on the plate when you look down at it.
“No,” Johnny says, private and intimate, thick as molasses. “He didnae.”
“You seem okay now,” you say, diaphragm pushing the words up your trachea like debris on an incoming tide.
The Johnny you know—the smug, satisfied prick able to laugh at anything and everything—slides back into place.
“Yeah, can’t hide that from you, can I, bonnie?”
He looks at where you’re still holding the sheet to your chest, to the imprint of his teeth on your neck, and then back into your eyes. You know exactly what he’s about to suggest, and you intercept as he opens his mouth to suggest it.
“I’m still eating breakfast,” you say, forcing a whole cherry tomato into your mouth. It pops and squirts between your teeth.
He grins—too knowing. “Ah, that’s alright. M’ takin’ you to Callanish today, and I’ve got a’catch your supper first,” he says.
With that, he slides the tray fully onto your lap and rises, stretching his arms above his head with his back to you, tensing and releasing the muscles as if for your benefit.
“Callanish?” you ask, swallowing.
“Aye, on Lewis.” Then he turns around and, beating a forkful of eggs halfway up, kisses you on the mouth. “Why don’t you take a walk? Pretty today. I’ll be back ‘round noontime.”
Something hard in your chest, held tight between your lungs. Pressure bending the lid upwards.
“I didn’t say I was going,” you reply, but Soap just laughs at you.
He disappears from the bedroom, and you hear him retrieving his clothes from wherever he’d thrown them the night before. You start to shake with the effort of holding in, listening with straining ears as he dresses.
“Left some lunch in the fridge for you!” he calls, and in a stroke of bright luck you hear the front door open and shut before there’s any chance for you to respond.
Wind strokes its fingers through the thatches of the roof. Stillness retakes the vacated space.
You eventually bring the dishes to the sink, tray held in front of you like a shield, as if wary of some predator hiding just around the counter. You approach the fridge and crack it open carefully, imagining a wire you don’t want to snap. There’s a sandwich on the middle shelf, sitting on a plate, wrapped in cellophane.
It breaks open.
Finally, you are alone.
You take the walk.
The sky is nearly cloudless, and the sunlight has transformed the island’s greys into a storm of jewel greens, with what is likely the last warm breeze of the year dancing across fronds of tall grasses. Clouds tower in the sky as if composed and painted there. You lock up the cottage behind you and find a walking trail to put your feet on.
Johnny.
It’s as quiet on the island as you’d hoped. No road noise. No humming power lines, or distant radio on someone else’s balcony. You can hear tiny insects singing together in the sedge, sea birds calling to each other. The voices of colliding winds arguing like old friends in the wide sky above you.
No other walkers on the path. It’s out of season for tourists, the nice weather a rare gift for the people who belong here and them alone.
Johnny.
You’ve tried to be happy. You have.
All you know is that when things start going well, it doesn’t last long.
You don’t know when it began—years ago, maybe, when you first noticed it. The pattern. Something you think of as a chill; rapid cooling, thermal shock cracking the facade.
It happens like this: you find out about group chats you aren’t a part of. Dinners you weren’t invited to. Conversations you might’ve enjoyed, that happened without you.
A problem. A serious one. But you were solution-minded.
For a long time, you puzzled it out. Acknowledged that the common denominator was you, in every circumstance—and so you looked at yourself. Found your flaws. Stared open-eyed into the mirror and confronted your own lack, internalized that no one owed you what you wanted from them just because you wanted it.
Love is action, isn’t it?
So you tried. You really did. You wrote down people’s birthdays. You invited them out for coffee. You commented on their Instagram posts. You messaged first, every time you’ve thought of them, memorized details about their lives, gave them plenty of space to talk about themselves—
After all, no one wants a friend absorbed in themself. People like to be remembered. Thought of. Considered.
You read books others recommended. You watched their favorite movies. Spent evenings catching up on shows they liked so that you could always have something to talk about with them, because that’s how it happens, right? Mychorrizae for the roots between trees. Fertilized ground.
It worked, for a while. And you nurtured the hope that, perhaps, there would be space for you, that something wonderful might eventually germinate.
Maybe conversations would loop back to you. Maybe all you’d done would be returned in kind.
Exhaustion bared a preliminary truth: it would not.
Puzzling more. The next solution presented itself—people don’t stand in front of mirrors all day. If all you do is echo them, what interest will they have in you? You provide nothing new, nothing more than what they already have.
Human beings love novelty, after all. Something new and shiny to turn in the light at different angles. You needed to gleam so brightly that what you’d been seeking all along could see you well enough to find you.
So you worked on yourself.
You took classes you’d been swearing to take for years. Joined a gym looking for endorphins. Dove into crafts, walking groups, trivia nights at the bar. Wrote out a cleaning schedule for your small apartment and kept to it. You spritzed your pillows with lavender, and ate more fruit.
Joined forums for things you liked. Got certifications for work and then chased down the raises they entitled you to. Went to interesting restaurants, found tiny little card shops or foreign grocery stores to explore. Learned to make Pad Thai from scratch.
Rounded yourself out. That’s what you did—you took the raw block of yourself and chiseled down into it, to set free whatever you found inside.
For another while, it was enough. Endorphins make people happy, and all that. And it seemed to be enough, becoming to attract; drops of water usually obey the laws of cohesion.
Only, in the middle of it, you observed the exact same phenomena as before.
Mirrors of yourself in others. People making the same efforts—which bore a richer harvest than you ever had available to reap. Bounties so plentiful they could barely hold it in their arms.
And you, close beside them, trying, and trying, and trying.
Hairline cracks forming.
In the end, still alone.
The teeth of the preliminary truth fit into the lock holding all the rest, and turned open the latch. They flooded your stomach in a rush, expanding, shattering their container, so abundant that they left no room for anything else. And they all connected, ligaments spiderwebbing inward to an undeniable nucleus—
There is something deeply, deeply wrong with you.
Invisible to you, but obvious to everyone else. A thing you cannot fix. A thing you cannot medicate. A thing you cannot self-care away. Unobservable when you look at it; happening just outside your perception.
Something you manage to hide, even unaware of its existence, only for a short while, before it spills out of you and makes a mess for all to see, entirely without you knowing it.
You do not know what it is. You’ve looked and looked and looked for it, and have not found it. You’ve sanded all the edges of yourself, hoping you might unknowingly catch it—but whatever it is must grow back, like a lizard’s tail or the arm of a starfish.
It must be ugly. It must be so shocking that when it rears its head, people feel so sorry for you for bearing it that they’d feel guilty rejecting you outright, and so they recede from you slowly. Masking pity with compassion, and hoping you won’t notice.
There is nothing good enough about you to accommodate for whatever it is. No matter what you do, you cannot make up for it.
So here you are, on a dying island in the North Atlantic. Far away from temptation—from what you can only, inevitably, ruin.
Hounded by a man who it would be madness to think cannot see that.
You watch one foot swing in front of the other, barely leaving any prints in the hard, packed soil exposed by every walker who’s come before you. You hadn’t brought sunglasses with you, assuming that you wouldn’t need them, and the late morning light is too blinding to look too far ahead of you.
Johnny.
It isn’t about you, whatever his interest is. You see that very clearly now.
You picture him—a special forces grunt, riding high on his own masculinity, suddenly cut down. Ripped away from everything that made him him. Cut off from anyone who might be halfway capable of understanding how that might feel.
And you—a lone woman, marginally fuckable. Obviously flawed goods. An empty well of self-esteem waiting to be filled.
Someone he can impress with a wink and a flex, and make himself feel better taking care of.
He’s enjoying getting to play suitor—that’s all. You don’t think you’ve seen many women your age on the island, so for him, this must be a rare opportunity. You can’t, you suppose, blame him too much. You understand what he’s doing, and why.
You’ve done it yourself. Chosen a likely candidate and thrown all your feelings at them until you’ve felt better.
That’s how people are, in the end—that’s how you are. People look to others to get what they want out of them, and in Johnny’s case, he’s getting it. Not even two days, and you spread your legs for him. You let him come inside of you with barely even a token fuss, because he felt you up and smiled the whole time doing it.
He’s using you. The same way you’re using him.
It’s a shitty thing to do. You are a shitty person for doing it.
And so is he.
Maybe that’s why you’re letting him.
When you return to the cottage, you find the door unlocked, and Johnny on the couch with a romance paperback open in one hand. He turns to grin at you when you walk in, and tosses the book on the coffee table without marking his place when he rises. Today, he’s wearing a dark sweater over yet another kilt, but this time—
“Your—fur, thing, is missing,” you say, in lieu of greeting.
He looks down at his hips, patting his thighs with his hands. “My pelt? Ah, yeah.” He grins. “Threw it off in a hurry, can you blame me? Couldnae find it. I’m no’ worried, it’ll turn up. You ready to go?”
You frown. “I guess.”
“Good! I packed your bag for ya already, but you migh’ wan’ to check if I missed anything.”
Your frown harder. “You—what? You packed my bag? Why would I need that?”
You swear his eyes twinkle at you. “Is a six hour boat ride up to Lewis, hen, an’ six hours back, no’ counting how long y’wanna stay at Callanish. Probably dock overnight.”
“I never said I wanted to go!” you snap, marching past him toward the bedroom.
“A’thought we were past that!” he calls after you.
You find your carry-on open on the bed, and furiously upturn it, dumping everything out—it disgorges its contents like intestines spilling from a slit belly. Three romance novels. Toiletry bag, phone charger, jewelry bag, a shirt mismatched to a pair of pants it’s crumpled up with. One pair of socks. No bra, no panties—and you think Johnny might have a shred of decency after all, but when you go to your suitcase, you find your carefully folded rows of underwear haphazardly unfolded, thoroughly pawed through anyway.
Johnny comes into the room as you stand up with appropriate undergarments in your hands, ire shoving smog from your lungs.
“You’re no’ gonna need those, bonnie,” he says with, the ever-present smirk.
“Fuck you,” you snap. You have never wanted to slap someone so much in your life, but somehow, you know he would catch your wrist in the attempt, and just use his grip to pull you in.
And you’d let him.
“Yeah, that’s why.”
You scoff, and go to repack your bag, folding your clothes and tetrising everything together so it will stand on its own when put down, ignoring Johnny’s leering until you turn around. You make no effort to hide how much you’re grumbling about fucking assholes with fucking boats thinking they’re going to get laid again just because they got their dick wet once.
You sling the carry-on over your shoulder once it’s packed and zipped—fully intending to complain the whole way, even as you go along with his nonsense.
It doesn’t feel good, exactly, but you don’t quite feel your stomach up in knots. You feel clear, at least. You know what’s going on. You know the limits of this dynamic. You can deal with it.
“Oh, one thing,” Johnny says, then sticks one hand into a pocket in his kilt.
He withdraws your phone.
Whole again, back together with a gleaming new screen. Nested back in its protective case.
“Saw you dropped it, so I took it to Castlebay to get it fixed,” he says, holding it out to you like a dog proud of the task it’s completed. “No’ a lot of signal ‘round here, but wanna make sure you can get to me if you need to.”
The words enter your hearing like cotton swaps, blurring the deeper they penetrate. You take it from him without a word. You tap the screen—there almost certainly had been signal in town, and repair places usually charge phones for free.
Nothing.
Just the time, and the stock background you never changed.
Stone lungs in your chest. In—one, two three. Hold. Out—three, two, one.
“Thank you,” you say, the words dropping like pebbles from your tongue.
“You’re welcome,” he says cheerily. “An’ I didnae know wha’ y’liked to read so I picked my favorites.” He quirks his brows. “Thought we migh’ get some ideas.”
“Okay,” you say. “Let’s go.”
He makes you brush past him on your way out of the bedroom, and follows on your heels close behind, enough that you can smell him, axe and diesel and salt spray and all.
Too close—because, when you catch sight of something odd, you stop in your tracks, and he runs into you, having to catch you before he knocks you over over. Hands wrap warm around your upper arms, big enough to shackle.
There—wedged in the lintel, above the front door. Barely visible from this angle. A sliver of white spattered with grey. You’re not sure what you’re seeing, until—
“Johnny, is that your—pelt?” you say, frowning.
You point toward it; Johnny’s chin rests on top of your head, hands squeezing. Chest hot at your back.
“Look at that,” he murmurs. “How did that end up there?”
It looks well-packed into the angle of the thatch roof meeting the wall; nothing tossed away in a hurry, the way you imagine Johnny undressed the previous night, could have ended up where the pelt is now.
It was obviously shoved there.
Moonlit eyes dance in your dreaming memory.
You turn around to look at him. You open your mouth to speak, but there are no words waiting to leave it—and he beats you before you can come up with any.
“Why don’ you head down to the beach, an’ I’ll lock up here?” he says, looking down at you with pleased, half-lidded eyes.
A killer whale will toy gleefully with its prey. For hours, flinging it back and forth, punting it through the air with powerful flips of its tail. Whatever animal unlucky enough to have encountered it has no escape—it spends its last moments thrown skyward, soaring through the only habitat it could never understand, before spinning back down to sea, pulled back home by gravity’s ignorant love.
Too stunned on impact to be able to swim away. Still breathing—the body unaware that its life has already ended. Until the teeth closing around its neck is the only mercy it will beg for.
“Okay,” you gasp out, stepping back away from him. He watches as you escape, smiling slightly. In no rush.
Out the cottage door and down the path on shaking legs—you retreat to the kayak waiting on the sand, heart pounding against your sternum again, bolting from something that isn’t chasing you. Your nerves feel raw beneath your skin, unclosed circuits buzzing.
The short burst of warm weather is rapidly cooling; a passing breeze carries the chill of a cold night oncoming. You realize you left Johnny’s jacket in the cottage, but—you’re not going back for it. You don’t want to see whatever you left behind there.
Then you hear Johnny’s footsteps approaching. You jolt, tense—readying to flee. Turning, all you see is him holding the plated sandwich as he crosses the beach, jacket draped over the bend of his elbow.
“Forgot some things after all,’” he says, grinning—teeth clean and sharp.
“Oh,” you say, trying to keep the tremble from your voice, “yeah.”
You take it from him, and see that your hands are shaking. If he notices, he doesn’t comment.
If he notices, he’s probably enjoying it.
“Let’s get goin’ then!” he enthuses, taking your bag and setting it in the kayak.
There is no pelt around his hips.
next chapter early access
a/n: I won't lie, this was a rough one to write. Part of the prose of this chapter is inspired by september is a weary month by Yasmin Belkhyr. Not sure if this is the proper attribution but it's all I can find.
#soap x reader#soap x you#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mctavish x you#john soap x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish#john soap mactavish x you#soap mactavish x reader#soap mctavish#john soap mactavish#mwritessoap#madi writes#selkie soap#peristalsis#the person in the image isn't meant to be reader—just to communicate the feeling#we FINALLY get to the original pitch lmao#anyway WOOO it's done
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posting this with absolutely no context
#am i a cryptid now? i log on like once in a blue moon to post cringe and then leave again#ace attorney#apollo justice#tikki#random stuff#my stuff#ooookay okay okay okay. anyone reading the tags can have a LITTLE context‚ as a treat#so. sitting on my ao3 currently is an unfinished fic with exactly this premise#i want to finish it so bad. it haunts me every day. people leave such nice comments and everything#but i just have no motivation. trust me i've tried#i thought that perhaps drawing it might finally kick my brain back into gear#i'm so sorry readers i'm sorry i WILL finish it i promise it's not abandoned#it was so much fuuuuun#tikki are you seeing this. cringefail author who keeps playing video games instead of writing lmao#anyway goodbye friends i am gone again. logging off once more
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cake night highlights
#akia art#our life#olba#baxter ward#olba mc#baxter fighting for his life (savage/ultimate/idk which is which)#replayed the game recently and had to draw cake night#it's one of my fav parts of step 4..for the return to form but also bc maggie considers the epilogue a protracted 1v1#and this confrontation Finally allowed a measure of even standing LMAO#if the text won't include those hyper-maggie-specific nuances that no one but me could write I'll Adapt Them Myself#but even i just want to go back to drawing cuddles now 🤣
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⭐️ SELF AWARE FORSAKEN AU (GENERAL HEADCANONS PT. 2)
⭐️ a/n: DARLINGGGGG GUESS WHO'S BACK FROM JAILLLLLLLLL /silly ASDFGHJKL ANYWAYS THIS IS PART 2 TO MY PREVIOUS HEADCANONS ! FEATURING ELLIOT, SHEDLESTSKY, GUEST 1337, 007N7 AND BUILDERMAN !!! I'LL LATER DO THE KILLERS PART !!! (FEATURNING ALL 4 :3)
⭐️ warnings: possible ooc
reader is gender-neutral so they/them pronouns are used !
(1) (2) <- you're here!
You're a really normal fan about a Roblox game called "Forsaken".......yeah.....totally a really normal and sane fan about that game. But lately, you've noticed something weird about the characters you're playing.
The characters have varying reactions into finding out they're being controlled by something....or someone (you).
⭐️
ELLIOT (MY SHAYLAAA)
Elliot was going on his way to confront Noob about their sudden increased weariness when he noticed Two Time walking down the hallway as Elliot was approaching Noob's room.
Elliot noticed Two Time looked....deep in thought. They aren't smiling, and their eyes are narrowed, looking down in the ground. It feels like they didn't even noticed Elliot bumping into them.
....Elliot just decides it's best to not disrupt them, and shakes his head. C'mon, focus Elliot!
Back to his original mission, Elliot goes to Noob's room, and asks them what's going on, and cracks some jokes here and there to calm Noob down a little.
Something's controlling Noob, and they know by feeling a type of warmth?
That's......concerning.
Elliot's concern grew when he noticed Two Time being....more unusual. Elliot would catch a glimpse of Two Time looking at nothing in particular, their face looking like they're deep in thought. Two Time isn't the only one deep in thought though, Chance seems to look like he's in the clouds as well.
Elliot frowns about his observations of his acquaintances. What is going on? Why are Noob, Two Time and Chance suddenly acting...off? Did it had something to do with this warm, controlling thing going on????
........Speaking of this controlling thing.
When a new round started after observing his acquaintances' weird behavior, which is just, y'know, the usual trying to restrain himself when any of his teammates ignored the pizza he threw at them, he immediately felt something.
The warmth. His arms losing control and a muffled voice.....are those white strings around his arms???
Elliot felt his soul left his body for a second before immediately snapping back. My man is trying SO hard to stay focused and calm, but right now, his mind is having a mantra of "WHAT THE FUCK".
Annnnd when the round ends, Elliot is still having his mantra of questioning what the hell just happened and who was that person as he lays on his bed. Holy shit, he just wants to reunite with his family and make customers happy again. WHAT MORE CAN HE ASK FOR?????
The more Elliot thinks about who was controlling him, the more sleep he loses.....well not like Elliot has a sleeping schedule, he usually just stays up at night, so I think you just made his insomnia worse 💀(Random head canon I have for Elliot is that he's insomniac. He just wants to see his father and his sister again. He's fr trying his best 💔💔💔)
Elliot is SPOOKED about that incident. And then he quickly realizes that "oh shit am i going to be controlled by some kind of person EVERY. SINGLE. FREAKING. ROUND?????"
Yeahhhh, Elliot's kinda scared of you, but that's only because he doesn't know if you're good or not. And if your behavior seems alright so far, Elliot still got some doubt inside of his mind, but his heart is telling him to trust you.
He could even throw a smile at you for your helpfulness! He noticed that he's getting less hits and stabs from the killers so far, and he shows his appreciation by looking at the screen, and giving you a warm smile. He even thanks you for your help.
.......The response was Elliot immediately losing the warmth. Elliot is caught off guard by this, but is immediately sad about it. Awh man, did he scare you? He hopes you'll come back soon.
Overall, the most STRESSED about this situation (for a while). When he first felt some type of force controlling him, Elliot is sweating BULLETS. But later, he appreciates your hard work and also wants to know you more. Even if he's still a little scared of you....
⭐️
SHEDLETSKY
Being a former admin, he noticed that something is off about his teammates.
Noob was usually scared, so Shedletsky didn't mind. But now? Noob is acting like the boogeyman actually got them or something!
Two Time? Creepier than usual. One time, when Shedletsky went into Two Time's room to ask them if they want to eat dinner tonight, he saw piles, and I mean, PILES of papers being everywhere. It looked like a tornado struck Two Time's room, and one of them has .....a person in it? With the other half of papers being filled with.... undecipherable handwriting. (But that's only because Shedletsky immediately shut the door the moment Two Time's eyes locked with his. So uh, he didn't had enough time to read about what Two Time's writing about.)
Elliot? Normally, Elliot was happy-go-lucky and always smiling. And now? Elliot seems to always have his mind somewhere, with a blank face on his face. For Robloxia's sake, he even forgot to make dinner one time!! (..Ehhhh, it's not like he was actually starving, he totally didn't eat some fried chickens earlier.)
Chance also seems to have their mind occupied with something. Yea, he's still smiling and having a big ego, but Shedletsky also noticed Chance looking at a window, thinking about....something.
Shedletsky's confused, and frustrated about the sudden weirdness of his teammates' behaviors. Seriously, what's going on with these people?
Shedletsky talks to Builderman about what's going on lately. Turns out, Builderman also noticed as well, but he also doesn't seem to know WHY his four teammates are acting like this.
Shedletsky's stumped about this. But depsite this, whatever's going on, Shedletsky WILL find out about it sooner or later, and Shedletsky WILL find a solution to whatever this problem is.
.....That's what he thinks at first. Because during a new round, while Shedletsky is brainstorming a plan about stunning the killer, he feels....warm. And his arms go limp before being picked up by....white strings?? And Shedletsky thought that somebody laced his fried chickens with some kind of drug, because he heard a voice, despite the voice being....far away.
At first, Shedletsky tried to ignore it by saying some few jokes. Something like, "oh hahaha can't be that bad...." until his legs jerk forward, a movement that was NOT something he was in control of. Shedletsky got GOOSEBUMPS after that. Bro went "OH HELL NAH I'M NOT DEALING WITH THIS 😭😭"
Would try to cut off the strings with his sword LMAO. Meanwhile in your POV, you're just wondering why Shedletsky is trying to cut air.
When the round ends, Shedletsky wastes no time into checking his admin logs, yes he still has the commands. He's searching the logs PRECISELY, wondering who was controlling him, thinking you're some kind of hacker or exploiter.
Despite his bestest efforts, Shedletsky found nothing. Shedletsky lets out a groan of frustration, and immediately reports this encounter to Builderman.
Yeah, no. Whoever you are, Shedletsky is gonna FIGHT BACK. He thinks you're up to no good, and doesn't trust you AT ALL....at first.
For some reason, Shedletsky decided to do some kind of test of just letting you do whatever you want with him, and yea, he knows this idea has high risks, and pretty dumb, but he's going to only do this ONCE.
And YOU'RE actually......somewhat nice? Your voice is still muffled, but he could've sworn he heard a "sorry" when he got hit. You found a medkit, and even healed him.
.....Yeah he still doesn't trust you. What if you're just doing to make him trust you? So that you can betray him and torture him forever?
But eventually, if you still continue to be nice to him, his doubts will slowly melt, and he'll trust you eventually. He'll say some dialogue about thanking you for your hard work if you stun a killer (which you question if that dialogue was official or there is something wrong with your device) and when he's feeling goofy, he'll look at the screen with his epic face, while having finger guns pointing at you (or so what it looks like since he technically doesn't have fingers).
BRUH, WHY ARE YOU STILL PLAYING THIS GAME DESPITE THESE CHARACTERS SAYING THOSE THINGS THAT YOU SURE AREN'T IMPLEMENTED??? You thought to yourself as you saw what Shedletsky did, instantly leaving the game.
....Well damn. But Shedletsky knows you'll come back eventually, so he waits for you. And when you come back and play as him, he's going to ask some questions here and there.
........You meekly replied to some of his questions. Honestly, you're already mentally unstable in a way, so I guess there's no harm into answering these questions???
Even if your voice is muffled, Shedletsky turns his head away from your view, as he quietly cheers. "Score!" He says in his mind.
Overall, I think Shedletsky's mind will be between "Hahahha what will this person do i ain't scared (he is..kinda) 🤣🤣🤣🤣" and "oh shit what if this person is actually bad....", so erm, yea, he will be ON EDGE with you at first. But over time, he wants to know more about you, so he starts making jokes and casually talking to you like you've been his best friend for 10 years. He's definitely gonna yap about you to Builderman, and tells Builderman to trust you since he's CERTAIN you're a good person!!! (Builderman ain't buying it 💀)
⭐️
BUILDERMAN
Shedletsky's been talking about you for a while. Builderman wouldn't really mind if he knew you actually had, y'know, GOOD INTENTIONS.
Builderman reminds Shedletsky to not trust too easily, you never know. Shedletsky would agree....and then the next day talk about you again. Builderman would sigh at that.
Yeah, Builderman had been noticing something was going on with his teammates. It seems that Shedletsky seems to be under your influence as well.
Even if Shedletsky reassures him that you're a good person, Builderman is the boss of ROBLOX after all, so he'll be stubborn and won't trust you. He ain't budging.
....That's what Builderman thought at first. He knows the drill by now. He knows that the player is controlling someone by the strings (I'll make a separate post about the white strings cuz y not) and feeling a strong warmth, so he prepares for you to control him.
No matter how mentally and physically prepared he is, he still feels his skin crawling when his limps are wrapped around the white strings and hearing your voice that sounds mumbled. All of it just feels.....alien to him. So foreign. So.....unusual. So he doesn't try to resist you.
He wants to trust you, and I guess he is, kinda? I mean, he still would be on edge around you, but over time, he'll be more.... neutral about your presence. He guesses that Shedletsky was right after all. You don't seem too bad.
As long as you're nice and you showed that you have no harmful intentions, Builderman will be chill about you, and throws you a quick smile at your screen if he survives a round.
....You don't close your game this time. You've just....kinda accepted it at this point. (Builderman is secretly giddy about that, but he won't let you show his joyful face.)
Overall? Builderman WILL be more skeptical of you than Shedletsky, but don't worry, he'll be comfortable in your presence eventually. (Man, I think Builderman has like the least amount of headcanons... 😭)
⭐️
GUEST 1337 (i'll just call him by Guest in this post) (also fun fact: i actually had to watch the movie for the first time to try to make him more in character.....yeah i know, i missed out 😭)
Guest will eventually found out about this "controlling force" going on. He gets along with all of the survivors, so he's bound to know about it.
Initially? Guest is immediately on guard. What do you mean there's someone out there that is controlling them? How are we even certain that they're even good?
NGL, I feel like he would disapprove of Shedletsky and Builderman seemingly being positive towards you. C'mon, both of them are like, the higher beings of ROBLOX. But he keeps it to himself and doesn't say anything.
But what do you expect from a man who witnessed his parents get killed by one of the members of the Bacon Terrorist Organization, was in military, and had to sacrifice himself to defeat the Bacons? He doesn't even know if he'll ever see his family and his friend again. He's canonically stated to be the "no-nonsense type of person". He WILL not trust you in the beginning.
That's just because that's how he is. Adding on from what I said earlier, he learned that naivety will get him nowhere, so he'll always be on guard whenever he meets someone new.
He also already knows the drill by now. He overheard Shedletsky talking about feeling a strong type of warmth when you're being controlled, so he's READY.
And when he DOES feel the strong warmth and his limbs being wrapped around by the white strings, he.....surprisingly doesn't try any attempts to resist. He's just staring at the ground, and later looks at your screen.
...Well, Shedletsky did mention you didn't seem to be a bad person, so he'll let his guard down...for now.
So Guest just lets out a sigh and tells you to do whatever you want with him. And you obliged.
And...oh wow. Not even one teammate died. Even if one of them got injured, he could sense that you're genuinely trying your best, with the evidence being your voice letting out quiet squeaks of "sorry" and bodyblocking Elliot.
Guest feels......relieved in a way, and also feels a bit of happiness....but those emotions immediately dissolve when his paranoia logical side reminds him that you could be tricking the survivors, including him.
....And he's immediately on guard again. When the round ends, he's standing near a wall, with his arms crossed and his eyes gazing at the floor. You were truly an enigma. How would he exactly sure that you're a good person? And what even exactly are you?
Ehhhh, he's just generally protective. He'll learn to not hold grudges against you and will warm up to you. That's what you expected after all. But you were kinda expecting Guest to continue not trusting you, so this was a pleasant surprise for you.
Overall? Yeah he would definitely be the LEAST trustful about you in the beginning, so also give him some time to trust you. But like the other survivors, he'll warm up to you eventually. Might even defend you if anybody's talking shit about you.
⭐️
007N7
He already knew everything. He watched everything from the sidelines. He saw how his teammates were talking about this "person". About how they're controlling them.
However, 007n7 seems to be a special case. His first thought of you wasn't fear or distrust, it was....interest.
As in like, he was at first curious about you. I feel like he would be the person to ask the most questions. He's definitely going to yap to you A LOT.
However, he noticed that you didn't even try him once. So naturally, 007n7 just feels.....insecure. He thinks that his skills are "useless", which is why you don't play him. Or you might even hate him. Yeah, it's probably.
He's trying to think positively, reassuring himself that you don't seem to be the type of person to say like that. He's heard of the survivors talking positively about you!
But considering that he's an outcast of the group.....yeah, I don't he'll hold up these positive thoughts for long. The negativity will get to him 💔
BUT ONE FAITHFUL DAY, where a new round started, and during that round, he expected you to not play as him, so he just walks around, searching for a generator.
But his walking suddenly halts. And he feels....warm. And---oH SHIT, HE'S GOT STRINGS ON HIM.
007n7 was alarmed at first, but it quickly turns into disbelief.
But not in a way "OMG PLZ DON'T HURT ME 😰😰😰😰" it's more in a "....you actually wanna play as me??? fr"
(GIVE THIS MAN MORE LOVE HE'S BEEN THROUGH A LOT 💔💔💔💔💔)
His mind is running around circles about you actually playing as him, while you wanted to try something new, so you decided to play as 007n7 for a bit.
When the round ends, he runs off to the ocean where the fisherman resides, as his brain keeps replaying that interaction he had with you.
He knows that he's being too hopeful, too..... delusional. But despite these thoughts, you actually made him happy in a way, so yey :D
Overall? 007n7 the second chillest about this situation. He also wants to interact with you more, but sometimes, his insecurity will get the best of him 💔
#💫🌈📝 starbles' writing#OHHH MY GODDD IT'S FINALLY DONE#forsaken x reader#forsaken#elliot x reader#shedletsky x reader#builderman x reader#guest 1337 x reader#i guess??? he has a wife but we can just ignore it lol#007n7 x reader#killers are next stay tuned !!!!!!#you can tell i'm running out of ideas LMAO#⭐️ self aware forsaken au
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thinking about Lucanis again (always). and how so much of his narrative boils down to the theme of "control". and of course also about how this applies to the Rook x Lucanis relationship.
like the first scenes with him in the game are, in theory, about freeing him from the Ossuary (although he seems to have an escape attempt already in progress at the time, they certainly weren't just letting him keep those knives on him for enrichment purposes, Rook just provided an opening/distraction he could take advantage of and crucially Rook has A Way Out of the whole place not just a cell). but ACTUALLY the purpose it to put him right into a new contract for Us, one set up by his own grandmother and first talon no less, and the person he has the MOST trouble saying no to. He's escaped torture and the Venatori for sure but he still isn't free, which I think is part of what leads to Spite's confusion/the Inner Demons plotline. He agrees to the contract but you can tell it's in many parts out of a sense of duty/mourning vs something he actively wants to do for himself. And then the FIRST real heartfelt conversation you have with him, where he tells you "even before I was captured, my life was not really my own. So much had been determined for me." But he's chaffaing at that! He thinks "to live truly is to live fully" and so directly tells you he doesn't think he's lived a life true to himself. He's been constantly smothered by the weight of expectations around him, even though he longs for more.
And then once you get him to the Lighthouse you see how this Big lack of control in his life comes out as all these smaller frustrations. He's terrified of sleeping and downing 11 cups of coffee per hour because sleeping means he will lose control to Spite, even though Spite is shown to flee rather than fight when he feels threatened, and once calmed down, is more drawn to just benign curiosity/mischief than anything actively malicious. Like if Lucanis loses control and sleeps for a few hours he is not going to wake up surrounded by bloodshed, he's going to wake up to a belly full of candle wax because he wouldn't like Spite taste one while they were awake. Which is the other half of this--he constantly denying Spite's impulses for reasons that in some ways make sense (HE doesn't want to eat candles), but not in a way that's actually satisfying to either of them (why not just take a bite, chew for a bit, and spit it out so Spite knows they kind of suck actually?). But he CAN say no to Spite and so he does. Over and over. Spite's one of the few people he can deny things without feeling bad about it, because it's HIS body he doesn't like that has to share now (<- this is what he thinks about it at first anyway, but he's wrong, it's both of theirs and it's useless to try to hold those kind of boundaries forever. but the "no its mine" spiteful instinct is very beautifully ironic and reflective of them both and their early relationship).
And personally I think this is where his fear of his own desires and intimacy is coming from, at the root. I don't think he's afraid of the concept of being in a romance or having feelings (even if they're unusual and rare for him, this is by no means incompatible with him being demi) but I DO think he is afraid of the kind of power it gives people over you. Getting something you want means there's something else that can be taken away. Admitting your desire means the other person has the opportunity to deny that. The more you have, the more you have to lose, and he has lost again and again and again in his life--his parents, his childhood to the crows, his independence, even his future--he doesn't aspire to be first Talon but he knows the rumors. He knows his grandmother wanted it for him, not Illario. His life path has been laid out for him by others and up to this point he has simply been going along with it anyway, even though it bothers him. He COULD argue and fight Caterina and push for Illario who actually wants the job to be First Talon instead, but from The Wigmaker Job we know he doesn't. He just ignores it and pretends maybe it won't happen, without him having to do any of the work. Which is why in the end Illario is the one who has to make a move about it (and even warns Lucanis of this!!!!). Lucanis KNOWS all this makes him a target but is neither taking charge or getting off of the train tracks, just closes his eyes.
And I think THIS context is what makes the almost kiss scene in the pantry make more sense to me. Rather than being afraid of having feelings (and then NEVER addressing this in game with a Rook who pursues him anyway) or not knowing how to finish what he's started via crow seduction training, it's more like this is a pivotal moment where he can actively choose to step off the planned path of be given a job -> kill the gods -> enact revenge -> go home. even if he doesn't at that point realize that a relationship with Rook could be something that lasts long-term, the very act of doing something just for himself is what's foreign and scary and hard. It's that first step off the tracks, and even if he were to keep walking in the same direction, it means he's making a choice about it. he's accepting that one way or another it IS in his power to go along with everyone else's plans or not. Hence the hesitation, and drawing back, and needing to clear his head.
And then the rest of Rook's role in his narrative IS about giving him more and more control for himself. Inner Demons, dealing with Illario, his questlines move less towards revenge and more towards just... not being locked into one fate. Which of course Caterina comes back and immediately tries to overturn by declaring him First Talon after all, even though she and him and everyone else knows she's not ACTUALLY ready to give up her rule/decision making power yet. Which in a way is maddening because cmon I did all this work here so this sad man could have some agency in his own life just to watch him get sucked right back in (which, at least we get many directions to headcanon from here), but there's no denying that THIS version of Lucanis at least is actually going in with his eyes open now. THIS Lucanis has had a taste of life outside the Crows, and seen the politics and power dynamics in other places/organizations, and finally has emotional ties to the big picture state of the world now, both in relationship and friendship paths with Rook. He's not just hyper focused on each contract as it's given to him now, he's looking at the whole thing.
Anyway of course the beautiful culmination of all this within the romance is the lighthouse scene with Rook, where he finally is willing to let himself be vulnerable (emotionally and physically), and fall asleep without fear of what Spite's going to do in the meanwhile. He also (depending on dialogue choice) finally talks about his feelings directly with you for the first time instead of in roundabout ways (the dessert being "not enough" is it really the dessert you mean, Lucanis. is it.). Even though he is STILL reluctant to verbally admit his feelings or let Rook share their own at this point, I think that's more a narrative choice about saving those last emotional dialogue options for the big final battle. but it is another point where he does have to stop just following along and ACTIVELY choose that yes, yes sometimes loving is worth the risk of losing it. Even if someone takes it away from you later, even if you don't survive it, sometimes the love alone makes it worth it.
I have like another 5000 words I could add into about how Spite ties into all this, about how having the demon in him is something he both fears AND how it forces him to acknowledge that actually yes he DOES share the same base feelings/instincts Spite does in terms of not wanting to be told what to do. And how this in a way is part of what gives him permission to act on it since he can no longer just shove it down out of sight. but this post is long enough already so i'm just going to take the rest of this and gnaw on it all day like a chew toy I guess.
anyway. AHG. it is kind of frustrating that the culmination of his arc seems to be "and then he got the job he never wanted anyway" but I do think at least all this prepares him for it in a way Caterina actively failed to actually do on her own. He NEEDED that step away from his straightforward path. Whether he stays first talon or not, and with or without rook as a romantic partner, he's finally been able to explore ideas outside the expectations of others.
#AND THEN of course how the whole control theme applies in terms of sex lmao. that man needs to be gently topped/dommed soooo bad#so much internalized shame and fear and he just wants someone who will see it & love him anyway#very much on theme to resent a thing (control) in everyday spaces but desire the inverse in the bedroom/forbidden spaces as a way to explor#it safely etc etc etc. fear of losing control vs desire to submit plus all the torture stuff mixed up in there oooohhh what a mess#themes of resistance etc etc You Get Me or you think im insane either is fine. anyway#dragon age: veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard#lucanis#lucanis dellamorte#rook x lucanis#rookanis#spite dellamorte#lucanisposting#datv spoilers#da4 spoilers#ramblings#dragon age#need to rip a pillow into shreds or somethign AHG im pacing around too fulll of Lucanis Thoughts this early in the day#this is usually a 3am hobby but im 12 hours early#but i think finally this is some watsonian reasoning that makes me more chill about the doyalist failures i have with the writing for him#this may be incomprehensible i did Not proofread it#jade plays dav#juniper x lucanis
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Tango from @watcheraurora's fic: King's Tide!
HIGHLY recommend this fic!!! Honestly WatcherAurora is one of my favorite ranchers writers EVER!!!
Tango's showing off his amazing swimming skills for his pretty human lol wheeee backflips!
#rora this fic is everything to me!!!!!#maybe im just leaning into my pisces-ness but like!!!!!!! merfolk!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i meant to finish this piece ages ago but uhhhh#i got distracted by the piece im making for the ice walls cinematic universe lol#and that one!!!! is coming!!!!!!#also rora i need you to know that this fic hit the perfect “villain scott” vibes for me#like do i love scott the content creator and character? yea!! hes awesome!!#do i respect everyone who ships flower husbands? yeah of course!! ship and let ship <3#do i love when scott plays the villain role in ranchers fics? YES GAWD#and rora you are writing it SO GOOD in this fic and i appreciate you so much <3#trust that it would be rora to make me FINALLY draw tango without fire/elemental hair! i didnt think it was possible for me lmao#doing scales by hand owieee my wrist... but so worth.... yummy detail.....#im so picky about my merfolk lol... my pet peeve is when the tails are too short or too thin#they need POWER!!!! to swim in the SEA!!!! and swim FAST!!!!!#okay thank u for reading now time for the boring tags <3#iffi doodles#hermitshipping#trafficshipping#tangotek#jimmysolidarity#ranchers duo#ranchers#solidaritek#solidango
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On My Side (NH13)
Pairing: Nico "I think the hockey gods were on my side" Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy
WC: 6k
part of the On Your Side universe
*This is a bonus chapter set after the ending of the overall fic, and can be read as a standalone if you haven't read the fic, but if you want to understand their dynamic and Poppy's personality a little more, you should!!!
Description: 18+ MDNI, Nico comes home to Poppy after scoring his first ever career hat-trick for the Devils. Way more fluff than smut but Nico is down bad as always.
A/N: You're all a bunch of enablers and that's all I have to say on the matter!!! Hope this fills the void while I continue to struggle with chapter ten lmao there is mention of Baby Cheeto in here but no spoilers for her name. Nico calls her Bug as a nickname, like _____-Bug, Chäferli (little bug) or just Bug for short, but it isn't her actual name. I can't use Cheeto forever lmao. I was literally trying to think of a title and remembered he said the words "on my side" WHAT IF I TOLD YOU HE'S A MASTERMIND he's an oys!truther if I ever saw one! Painfully obsessed with Poppy if you ask me. Also the way Cheeto would rock the heck out of this it's so cute I had to share
Nico Hischier likes to think he’s a patient man.
Finally scoring his first career hat-trick after 8 years in the NHL, after 476 games played with the Devils, would be the ultimate testament to that.
Doing so in the first ever game with his daughter in attendance - on home turf, his mother and Poppy holding her up in the family suite during warm-ups in her little Devils teddy sleeper that he can only just make out from down on the ice, but has his rampant heart beating out of his chest all the same - has him thinking that maybe, after all those years, after all those games, the stars had been aligning for him the whole time.
And it was that sort of patience he had tried to tune into since the end of the second period, when he knew Poppy had left early to try skip traffic and get their little girl home safe for bed.
It’s what he tries to channel in the aftermath of the game, swarmed by reporters in the locker room, trying to remain polite and professional, not rushing them through their questions or giving half-assed answers - knowing he owes a lot more than that to the organisation that has allowed him to get this far. Trying to save just a speck of energy to give when he finally gets home, collapsing into the warm embrace of the girls he knows are waiting patiently for him.
It’s what he holds onto when he has to take a detour on his way home, dropping his mom off at her hotel and trying not to visibly squirm in his seat as she regales him with stories of how his daughter had captured the hearts of everyone she encountered, swallowing down the slight jealousy that he hadn’t been there to see it and clinging to the fact that he had his own success elsewhere in the night - success that played second fiddle in his own mother’s eyes to the experience of sharing her granddaughter’s first ever game with her, an experience he had to endure twice as she called his father from his car, deep chuckles ringing through the speakers as he tried to get a word in edge ways beyond her excitement.
It’s what has him shaking with anticipation as he almost skips down the hall to their apartment, mustering up the rest of his energy to walk into their home without the weight of the world on his shoulders, leaving any doubt, any insecurity, any lingering self-deprecation at the door so he can bask in this moment with the two hearts that are shaped entirely to fit him into them.
And it’s what has him shaking off whatever disappointment tries to creep in when he sees his little girl asleep in Poppy’s arms, knowing whatever tiny part of her he will ever get will always be enough - even if her big, glassy eyes aren’t looking up at him, even if he doesn’t come home to one of those heart-stopping beaming smiles she has started to give to him whenever he enters the room - her being here, sleeping safely in the arms of her beautiful mother, and him getting to come home to whatever version of them he can, is more than he could ever ask for.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the hat-trick hero.” Poppy’s soft voice carries to him as he makes his way over, dropping his bag on the floor and keys on the counter, heading straight to where she is now standing and pressing a kiss to her waiting lips. “Hi, handsome.”
“She didn’t wanna say goodnight to her daddy, huh?” He tries not to sound too dejected - he’s supposed to be on a high, after all - but after half an hour of his mother unintentionally bragging about all the attention she had been giving to her Gromi all night, he can’t help the slight sag of his shoulders - especially knowing that she’s going to be spending the morning with his mom tomorrow, too.
“Sorry, baby, we watched a little of you on the TV and then she got hangry,” Nico finds himself hypnotised by her still figure, enamoured with the way she exudes sheer calmness. The smile that creeps up on his lips seems to do so by muscle memory - a dopey kind of smile he’s probably had plastered on his face since she came into the world kicking and screaming 2 months ago, a smile permanently etched into his features from probably even before that. “I promise I tried to keep her up, she literally fell asleep on my boob.” Poppy whispers, watching with warm, glittery eyes as Nico takes in the sight of his two favourite people in front of him - Poppy already changed into one of his shirts, settled for the night, and his baby girl all cosy in her little teddy bear onesie, pacifier bobbing between her plush little lips.
“Look at her hat,” he pouts, running a finger along the folded seam of the way-too-big beanie Poppy has perched on top of her head, the knit fabric falling just short of her closed eyes. “That’s adorable.”
“Your mom put it on her before we left,” Poppy chuckles lightly, “Wanted to keep it on until you got home, we had to celebrate the hatty properly.” Her brows raise as if gesturing to the bill of the cap on her own head, one of his, he’s sure - no doubt stolen from their closet as soon as she got home.
“My little good luck charm,” he leans down to press a kiss to her cheek before he lifts himself back up and bends toward Poppy, “Gonna have to start coming to all the games.”
“I’ll let you break the news to her when she wakes up,” she hums as he presses his lips to hers, “She has a very low tolerance for everybody telling her to smile and getting all up in her space, been grouchy all night.”
“Just like Mami, huh, bug?”
“Oh, you think you’ve got jokes now?” Poppy scoffs as she steps back, ready to take their daughter to bed. “Score your first hatty and you think you’re funny?”
“Always been funny, babe,” he smirks, flicking at the cap sat on her head before he takes it off, flipping it to place on top of his own and following her down the hall. “I’ll prove it to you when I get her first laugh.”
“She’ll be laughing at you, not with you.”
“Better than nothing.”
Nico sits on the edge of their bed as Poppy reaches into the crib to retrieve the sleeping bag in there before she lays it down beside him. He does the work unzipping and readying it for her to place their daughter inside while she rocks her still-sleeping body, and the two of them work in tandem to get her inside before zipping her back up, with Nico softly pulling the beanie from her head and watching her fluffy hair fan out in its absence.
He runs a gentle hand over her head to smooth it down as Poppy lifts her, and leans into where she offers her up for a kiss before she puts her in the crib. Nico watches with a soft smile etched into his features, the familiarity of it all spreading warmth throughout his chest, his favourite part of every day being this - sharing a goodnight routine in the comfortable quiet, the two loves of his life safe and happy within arms reach.
None of it feels new or daunting anymore, just easy - and despite the constant warnings of it not always being this way, Nico just wants to feel it to its fullest extent; sheer happiness and serenity.
Poppy returns to the front of him, and he instinctively spreads his legs to accommodate her, palms laying flat against his chest and his hands falling to her hips. She just looks at him for a good few seconds, eyes shimmering with admiration, lips tugged between teeth and a head tilted as her expression flickers into something more intense.
Her hands travel down his arms, wordlessly, until she grasps at his wrists and pulls him to stand, leaning up to press a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth. “C’mon,” she whispers while her lips are still against his skin, “Wanna celebrate you.”
As if getting to come home to her isn’t celebration enough.
He follows her back through the hall with their hands clasped together, arms stretched between them so he can watch the hem of his shirt ride up against the backs of her soft thighs, and he starts to feel his throat go dry.
He thinks of all those mornings they would spend in the kitchen together in the summer, his shirts a little tighter around her pregnant belly, riding up against her curves and leaving very little to the imagination when she’d wear just his t-shirt and nothing else.
She’s wearing panties now, he can tell, could see the bottom of them peaking out when she’d leaned over to put their daughter in her crib. But he doesn’t mind inching them off, quite likes the slow pace of unwrapping her like a gift - a well-deserved present for all his hard efforts on the ice.
It’s where his fingers find themselves almost immediately when she stops just short of the couch, spinning and practically launching herself into his waiting arms. He can’t help but chuckle as they collide, large arms wrapping around her frame as she melts into him, hands gripping either side of his jaw to pull him down in a clash of teeth and tongues. He palms at her ass as she presses her hips forward, fingers slipping under the hem of her panties and wriggling under them until his knuckles are covered by the fabric, squeezing at the flesh until she groans into his open mouth.
He feels deft fingers working between them to rid him of his own clothes, clumsily popping open the buttons of his jacket before working their way up his chest, slipping into the arms and helping him shrug it off. The weight of it drops to the floor with a heavy thud, and when her hands return to his chest for the next item of clothing to be removed, she pushes him back with an exaggerated huff.
“Baby, how many layers do you need?”
“You in some kind of rush, or something?” He chuckles, chasing her lips with a crane of his neck, getting a quick kiss in before she pushes him back again with palms laid flat on his broad chest.
“Your daughter has some sort of radar for when we’re within 2 inches of each other,” she says as her hands slide down, the feel of them through the extra layers he has on still present as she travels past the hard ridges of his abdomen. She grasps tight at the bottom of his hoody, and he lends a hand to tugging it up and over his head, throwing that to the floor, too. “We gotta get a move on before she wakes up,”
“My daughter?” He scoffs, removing his undershirt while she’s distracted, relishing the feeling of a heavy gaze on his chest once it’s fully revealed to her hungry eyes. “She’s really given you such a hard time that you’re disowning her?”
“She isn’t letting me have a hard time at all, that’s the problem.” Her hands reach back out seemingly of their own volition, fingers fanning out across his skin as her stare glides down, the weight of it sliding down his skin to the point he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention.
“That was weak for you.” He teases.
“I’m out of practice,” she pouts, closing the distance once more and pressing her lips to the slightly stubbled skin of his jaw, nipping at the flesh as her ministrations travel across his features, his jaw, his neck, the spot just below his ear, where she mutters, “Wanna show you how proud I am of you,”
“Oh yeah?” He asks as she works at the button of his pants, pushing until they pool at his feet and he can kick them off.
“Mmhm,” she moves her kisses back to his waiting lips, “Been waiting to get my hands on you all night.”
“Been waiting to get my hands on you all day,” he mutters back, bending to lift her with hands gripping her ass, “Been thinking about you teasing me in the kitchen this morning,” he starts heading for the couch, mind spinning as she continues kissing him - thinking of all the plans she had been making for the two of them while his mom takes Little Bug out in the morning, finally giving them some much needed, uninterrupted time to themselves. Plans of wasting the morning away between the sheets, sharing showers, having no responsibilities other than paying attention to one another. “Thinking about having you all to myself tomorrow."
“You gonna let me give you a preview?”
He chuckles as he falls back onto the couch, all grace thrown out the window as they sink into the cushions, her still holding onto him and now straddling his lap, lips stretched into a blissful smile as he looks up at her.
She presses them straight to his, and he can’t bring himself to mind the way their teeth clash at her eagerness, hips grinding down onto his as she settles onto her knees.
He could spend forever kissing her like this, sensual and sloppy, the slight scratch of her nails against the sides of his neck and his grip on her thighs guiding her movements straight onto the aching growth between his legs.
He bucks up to meet her, and their lips part with a wet smack as she groans.
"Bet you can’t wait for me to shave, eh?” he smiles as he swipes a thumb across the space between her nose and lip, the skin red raw from the scratch of his moustache.
“You know damn well I’d ban you from ever touching a razor again if I could.” She says, breathlessly, slowly thrusting down onto him.
“Tell that to your little red muzzy, you’re giving Luke a run for his money,”
“Hey,” she swats at his chest in feigned outrage, “The kid tried his best!”
“No more talk about Hughes when you’re sat on my lap,”
“You brought him up!”
“Thought I was getting a preview,” he groans as he shuffles, reaching between them to slip a hand between her legs, tucking his fingers beneath her panties and swiping against her heat. “Jesus, Poppy.”
“Told you I’ve been thinking about you all night,” she pecks at his lips again, raising her hips a little to give him further access to slide his fingers through the almost excessive wetness that’s near enough soaked through her panties.
He prods at her entrance, two fingers slipping straight in until she’s gasping against his cheek in sheer bliss. His digits move with ease, working his way up to his knuckles as he drinks up her pleasured moans, his chin tilting until their open mouths just press together without kissing, panting against one another as he works her up.
He pushes the fabric of his shirt up her thighs with his other hand, exposing his handiwork to hungry eyes so he can see the way she glistens between her legs - can see the way his fingers slide in an out of her.
She takes his shirt off, throwing it beside them on the couch so she can see too, looking down for only a moment before she’s throwing her head back.
He’s so hard just watching her that it’s almost painful - straining against the seams of his briefs until they’re tenting beneath her. And she must notice, nimble fingers working him out until he’s thick and hot and heavy in her palm, gripping around him in with her thumb swiping at his tip, hips shuffling until his fingers slip out of her heat and she can move on her knees to hover above his waiting cock.
He takes a hold of himself while her hands raise to steady herself on his shoulders, and he waits with bated breath as she lowers herself, sinking past her entrance until he’s sheathed entirely, tight, wet walls wrapped around him in a long-awaited embrace.
Their moans fall out in sync, both of them stilling, the only movements between them being the soft rise and fall of panting chests.
It’s a minute before she starts to rock her hips, leaning back down to distract herself from whatever unease needs to fade away with the press of her lips to his - tongue swiping at his, sucking and nipping at the muscle as she works herself to the point where she can lift herself up a little.
“Fuck me,” he whines out in an elongated groan as she sinks down on him again, tight and slick and warm, and he feels tension in every cell in his body, strung taut to the point where he feels like he could snap entirely in any given moment.
“I’m working on it,” she pouts, “Think I overestimated my talents here,”
“Think you’re very talented,” he hums, pressing a kiss to her jaw as he lays large hands on the dip of her waist, fingers tickling into the arch of her back so her movements are a little smoother, a little more fluid. “So good to me, yeah? Just need a hand.”
He guides her hips into a steady rhythm - up, down, forward, back - until she’s rocking onto him in a mind numbing pace.
God, he thinks, this is heaven.
It’s been so long since he’s had her like this. Probably all the way back in Switzerland in the summer, and he thinks a lot about this situation mirrors that - trying to stay quiet, trying to feel as much of each other as they possibly can without drawing attention from sleeping parties one room over.
He remembers thinking, all those months ago, that it wouldn’t be possible to love Poppy any more than he did, then - that he couldn’t possibly feel more for her than he did when he shared that part of his world, and she had embraced it with open arms. She had blended straight into his family, had adapted herself to his routine, had brought new life and colour to what he had always considered vibrant, anyway, but she had changed the meaning of it all.
But she had done the same to life in Jersey.
Long gone were any feelings of homesickness he used to get - especially around this time of the year. Fully immersed now into his season, summer seeming too far from his reach that he started to forget what home felt like. But not anymore.
Home is Poppy. Home is their baby girl sleeping soundly in the next room. It’s playing one of the greatest games of his career so far, meeting milestones he had been reaching for for so long, standing in the centre of the arena he has built his career in, hearing the rapturous cheers of fans chanting his name, and driving back knowing the love garnered there could never possibly compare to the love waiting for him in his apartment.
He brings her face down with a palm splayed gently across her jaw, fingers reaching back to tickle at the nape of her neck and thumb swiping tenderly at her soft cheekbone, until their mouths collide. He shifts his hips to meet her ministrations, finding a rhythm that has her gasping into his mouth, enough that his tongue can slip past the seam of her lips and press against hers - hot and fervid and eager.
He wonders as the pressure builds if this passion will ever wither. If this need to profess his love for her will ever wain away, if he’ll ever be casual about the way in which she has become the entire centre of his universe.
He hopes not.
He hopes when he’s 80, he looks over at her and his heart still hammers in his chest. He hopes his mouth struggles to make sense of all the ways in which his brain tries to convey what she means to him - hopes he still stutters around his sentences and feels weak to the very base of his spine at the mere thought of her.
In fact, he doesn’t hope at all.
He knows he will.
“You feel so good,” Poppy mutters into his mouth, panting against his swollen lips, “I’ve missed this so much.”
“Yeah?” He thrusts up, “You missed being full of me?”
He’s missed this far out look in her eyes, glassed over and almost gone as she nods in response - they haven’t really been able to get to this stage with their quick fumbles and rushed hookups in the last 2 weeks since she got the all clear from her doctor for them to start being intimate again. Sure, they had developed other methods over those first 6 weeks, making good use of hands and mouths in whatever limited time they could find together, but nothing compares to this.
To being attached at every point like they are one.
“You gonna come for me?”
He still remembers her tells, fluttering lashes, trembling thighs, stuttered breaths all combined with the spine tingling way in which she tightens around him, and he manages to time it so they come together, one final burst of energy used to lift his hips just as she sinks down, body slumping into tremors that wrack through the both of them.
He holds her in place for a second, large hands pushing his shirt up her back as he starts to rub circles into her flesh, soothing her back into a softened consciousness - hazy and frazzled but still in tune with every movement he makes.
Her nose presses into the expanse of his neck, lips pecking at all the sensitive spots she can seek out as they both try to catch their breaths - and he realises she was probably right before, they haven’t had time like this for a while now.
Still, he’ll take what he can get.
She lifts her hips just enough for him to slip out, and reaches to the small table at the side of the couch where she has miraculously stashed a pack of baby wipes. She takes two out, using one to clean the both of them before she bundles it into the clean one and discards of it back onto the table to be disposed when she eventually gets the feeling back in her legs.
And it’s as soon as Poppy’s legs give way and she collapses into him that they both hear it - a soft wail carrying through the monitor behind the couch. Cries filling the space around them and bursting their bubble with an almighty pop!
“Told you,” Poppy mumbles into his neck, skin sticky with a soft sheen of sweat. “Won’t even let me get a hatty of my own,”
Nico scoffs, snorting out a loud chuckle that shakes where she rests on his chest, and despite her feigned irritation, she feels her cheeks puff out into a soft, unbreakable grin. “Like you’d have lasted 3 rounds.”
“What happened to me being very talented?” She pouts, mustering whatever strength she has left to push herself up, swinging a leg back over and moving to stand, only for him to grasp back at her, pulling her until her back falls into the plush of the couch.
“Talented, Poppy, not super human,” he chuckles, standing from the cushions and tucking himself back into his briefs. “I’ve got her.”
“It’s probably wind, I changed and fed her before she went down.”
He presses one last kiss to Poppy’s head before heavy feet carry him down the hall toward their bedroom, where their daughter’s crib is temporarily positioned until she starts to sleep a little further through the night. He doesn’t bother flicking the light on as he enters, able to follow his muscle memory straight over to where she is without tripping over his own feet, and he lifts her as soon as he can, cooing at her as she cries into his chest.
“I’ve got you, Chäferli,” he mutters as he rocks her gently, large hand completely encompassing where he can feel her back through her sleeping bag. “Daddy’s here,”
He reaches over to shut off the monitor before he ambles over to his and Poppy’s bed, sitting with his daughter still clutched to his chest, little hiccups coming out as his hand tries to work up her wind.
“Got yourself all worked up, huh?” He asks, so deep into his routine of talking to her about anything and everything that he no longer second guesses it. “My little bug, you’re okay.”
It takes a good few minutes to calm her down, to the point that Nico thinks she might even be hungry and he’ll have to call Poppy in, wiggling a finger between her lips to see if she latches on, but he continues to pat and rub at her back until she burps, and her cries turn into little coos, that turn into soft pants with wide, sparkling eyes staring up at him in wonder.
He looks down at her in the same way, dark eyes flitting across her every feature. Across the soft but thick head of hair, the crazy long eyelashes, the puffy lips and the little button nose.
She looks so much like Poppy that he feels his chest ache every time he looks at her - but it’s a good kind of ache, a longing and content kind of ache, that only aches to remind him of everything he stands to lose if he doesn’t work hard enough to keep it.
“Gromi told me you were charming everybody at daddy’s work,” he tells her with a soft smile, the pad of his finger pressing at the tip of her nose. “Says she’s gonna have to show you off around the city on her own tomorrow.”
Tiny fingers reach up to clasp around his, holding on and clutching with a grip he’s sure wasn’t so firm that morning when he had said his goodbyes.
“Careful, bug,” he tells her, “You hold Papi’s hand too long and he won’t let you go.”
Wide eyes gleam back at him, and he watches in awe as they start to crinkle in the corners.
He becomes all too aware of the hammering of his heart, and lays her beside him on the bed in fears that the echoing thud of it beating against his chest might disturb her. He curls up beside her, making sure she’s flat as he gets himself comfortable, and just lays there for a good few minutes, watching her as she watches him.
There isn’t a feeling in the world that compares to this, he thinks. He could score a hundred hat-tricks, have a million people chanting his name, and it won’t come close to how adored he feels in this moment, how proud he feels to have played any part in making a little human so perfect and beautiful.
He leans forward, kissing softly at her puffy cheek, careful not to press too hard that she feels the scratch of his moustache, and he relishes the little squeal of what he hopes is delight she gives in return.
Poppy gives it 20 minutes before she decides to venture through to their bedroom, having cleaned up and busied herself sterilising bottles so they’re ready for Katja to come pick up in the morning. It’s been a rare occurrence lately that Nico has had his one-on-one time with their daughter, him being so busy with training and their trip to Florida - and he wouldn’t say it, wouldn’t fess up to the ways in which it gets him down, but she knows he feels like he’s missing a lot.
She changes so much day to day - discovers so much about the world around her - and as much as Poppy tries to save things for him to see on his own, tries to find the balance between sharing the little moments she gets with him and letting him experience them for himself, she knows there’s nothing she can do to keep that nagging voice at bay.
He’s always been that way, unable to completely silence the thoughts that tell him no matter what he does, it isn’t enough.
He’d even done it tonight - his first career hat-trick, him being the first Swiss-born player to score a natural hat-trick, a stadium filled with fans chanting his name, dominating a team the Devils hadn’t beat at home in close to 10 years - and it hadn’t been his best performance.
She would gladly spend the rest of her life convincing him he’s good enough, she thinks.
Her and their little Bug being the ones who get to welcome him home after a night like tonight? She doesn’t know what she did in a past life to get the Gods on her side like this, but she’d do it again a thousand times over.
As her feet pad softly down the hall toward their room, she listens out for the soft voice she usually has the pleasure of eavesdropping on when she thinks he doesn’t know she’s hovering on the other side of the door. A soft voice that tells their little girl exaggerated stories from his day about her uncles, about his games, about whatever he got up to while he was away and what he brought back for her from his travels. But this time, it’s quiet - the peaceful kind of quiet that wraps around her like a blanket, tranquil and warming as she pushes the door open and steps into the room.
Nico is curled up on his side of the bed, on top of the covers, and his arm is draped gently over their daughter’s sleeping bag, their faces inches apart as soft snores fall from their parted lips. She inches closer as quiet as she can manage, leaning over them and taking in their similar profiles - the gentle slope of their mirrored noses, dark lashes framing closed eyes that are turning darker to match her daddy’s day by day.
If anyone had told the Poppy of last November that this is where she would be now - that this is where she’d be with Nico - she never in a million years would have believed it.
He has transformed her life in such little time that she can barely remember the before. Can barely remember a night she fell asleep in any other bed, by any other side, or woke up to anyone else. Can barely remember feeling anything close to this kind of happiness, this kind of content.
It’s like he’s introduced her to a whole new level of feelings. Ones she struggles to describe, like there’s no word in the English language that could possibly convey what he means to her.
Maybe his language has a word for it. Something that she’s never heard before, but just sounds right. Like she knew it somewhere much deeper than her brain allowed her access. She’ll have to ask him, tomorrow - when they finally have a morning to themselves and she can work up the energy to crawl out from under the sheets with him.
A part of her wishes she could take a snapshot of this moment - could send it back in time to the Poppy who never thought this kind of life would ever find her. The Poppy who was drifting, coasting, floating, afraid of landing on her own two feet and having to drag them for the rest of time through unfamiliar territories. The Poppy who pushed down her ever expanding adoration for the man currently cuddled up to their entire life in the bed they share, who convinced herself he could never possibly feel the same way, and wasted years of her life when she could have had this.
But another part of her thinks, what’s the point?
She has him, now.
She’ll have him forever.
She allows herself to watch for a minute as they take deep breaths in sync, all the post-game tension in Nico’s body long melted away, before she quietly shuffles over to the bathroom to get herself ready for bed.
She manages to make her way back over in the dark without stumbling, by some miracle, and reaches over to pick her baby girl up without interrupting her sleep, standing beside her crib and rocking her a little just to make sure she’s still fully drifted off - relishing the feeling of soft puffs of air falling into her neck as she cradles her.
Nico must wake at the loss of contact, instincts kicking in immediately when he can no longer feel the little body that had been resting under his protective arm, and when Poppy looks back over, she can see the reflective glint in his eyes as he watches her - soft and adoring and tooth-achingly sweet.
Instead of putting her down, she bounces gently on her feet back over to Nico’s side of the bed, sitting beside him as he shuffles up, and the two of them just watch their daughter as she sleeps.
For all the times they have been warned that this bliss is temporary, that it’s just a phase, Poppy can’t see it ending for as long as Nico looks at her like this. Like he has the entire world sat in front of him.
“She was smiling at me before,” he whispers as he repositions himself, legs spread so that Poppy can sit between them. “Was trying to get her to calm down, and she was just looking straight at me with those big sparkly eyes and she smiled right at me.”
“She was doing it a little when we got home, earlier.” Poppy whispers back, hoping he doesn’t mind her raining on his parade a little to tell this story, “We just caught your interview on TV after the game, and there was this close up of you, and she smiled so big, Nico. She never smiles like that for anybody.”
“That’s ‘cause you snitch on her and tell everyone it’s gas.”
“I don’t want anyone else thinking they’re special.”
“But I am?” He asks, reaching to swipe the back of his finger softly against her cheek, the soft moonlight sifting into the room reflecting off of the ring on his finger, the quick glimmer enough to catch Poppy’s eye, to distract her so much that she can only hum in response, lips curving into a tender smile.
“Yeah,” she breathes, the tranquility of the room a stark contrast to the way her heart erupts into thunderous applause for him - akin to that of the stadium full of fans earlier that night. Thousands of voices chanting his name, singing his praises, cheering him on for all the glory he brought to their night. He brings that to Poppy, tenfold, every day. “You’re really special.”
He leans over their sleeping daughter to press a loving kiss to Poppy’s lips, careful not to disturb the little angel between them, and Poppy kisses him straight back, fervent but fleeting.
“I’m so proud of you, baby.” she mutters into his mouth, careful not to invest too much of herself into another moment they’ll swiftly get interrupted from.
“You gonna show me in the morning?” He mumbles back, their lips still touching, noses pressed together, his hand still cradling her face. She nods, and he feels her cheeks round into his palm. “Gonna give me that hatty you promised?”
“Gonna give you whatever you want.”
“Another baby, Frau?”
She scoffs, swallowing down the fizzing feeling at the back of her throat the nickname.
“Ask me again after your next hat-trick.”
#nico hischier#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier smut#nico hischier x oc#nico hischier fanfiction#*writing#*oys#I'm beyond caring about the amount of spoilers for the next few chapters in here what am I supposed to do#NOT write domestic hischier family after the other night?????#he literally begged and pleaded with me to write this#ANYWAY I finally got to write actual dad!nico this was so fun#I might let him make ME juno#I feel like his hatty really played second fiddle to me just writing how in love with each other these two are lmao#ALSO I FORGOT TO WRITE IT ABOVE BUT S/O AGAIN TO RORY!!! AS ALWAYS!!!! SHE IS MY SOUNDBOARD FOR EVERYTHING AND I LOVE HER
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seb and clora working on baby #1 👶 🔞🔞!! NSFW !!🔞🔞
[poipiku]
[twitter]
#celeste is technically in this picture💀 almost tagged her just to be truly unhinged LMAOO#im working on a oneshot rn where they finally do the deed without any contraceptives/actually try to get pregnant#surprisingly it wont have THAT much smut tho its just gonna be a small part of it I SWEAR!!! but then again we'll see#cuz seb always takes the reigns once i start writing him LMAO#the main focus is gonna be seb super excited/distracted leading up to the day and he cant pay attention to anything else BAHAHA#and then afterwards how even tho its too early to test he'll already be convinced clora is pregnant bc ITS HIS SWIMMERS CMON!!! no doubt#and then overprotective seb with preggo clora NATURALLY...even more insane than he usually is#and lawley will be making an appearance🥰to congratulate them ofc🥰🥰hes soooooo happy for them!!🥰🥰🥰#and theres gonna be a teensy bit of dad seb at the end hehe...honstly i wasnt planning to write any stuff with the kids#but i wrote a brief celeste/seb interaction and i was like aw wait this is cute?? i want more....so maaaybe there shall be more dad seb#hogwarts legacy smut#sebastian sallow smut#clora clemons#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x oc#sebastian sallow#choccyart
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More than just the Demon.
#ffxiv#digital art#zenos yae galvus#venat#endwalker spoilers#will forever be fascinated with this man#look guys look- the literal embodiment of wol's wings of hope LOL (and me going hehe about that and footfalls)#the part of me that adores digging into the nuance of character writing (intentional or otherwise) is just latched onto zenos#and venat-- they cant just give us two characters who get really important 1v1 duels#and ask really important questions#and love the MC and are willing to risk themselves so unconditionally#and have them not live rent free in my brain#--and maybe this tiptoes into the realm of crack theory so beware there will be a lot past here--#but I cant help but think zenos is akin to an oracle or warrior of light but was tempered/corrupted by zodiark#or some strange happenstance of varis (who shares visual traits to golbez before 6.0 ever came out and the dark mana burst)#and carosa (who it seems zenos got his looks from- and he already looks like he has ties to venat and argos like minfillia does)#was he a result of the eternal chess match between the two parties' machinations? or just some strange twist of fate?#another day of him being “emet's successful experiment” (again- intentional or no) making me thonk#theres something so strange about the final days dreams and how dark aspected he is- that his void abilities are more tied to him tbh#yet his mannerisms beyond just what he's been through almost reminds me of light corruption and the uncanny calmness#we see in most beings associated with the light in any significant way and like second phase eden shiva#he almost has all the marks of someone who shouldve already had the echo or blessing of light but for one reason or another#was unable to hear hydaelyns call#of course it doesnt help i mentally associate him with connections to zero and how she was corrupted before she was even born#and durante- who states uncanny ability and connection with light and darkness and yet favors dark magic more#i simply live with the idea that zenos' soul was an eternally faithful companion to wol's and#this time the cardinal sin of separating the pair finally happened to rather dire consequences lmao
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so i do think it's very interesting how, at least from what i've observed, people see/depict worst logan as kind of different from the x men logan in terms of their propensity for violence, or rather how this violence is released. i think it has to do with a couple of things:
as many have pointed out, wade is the only one who has ever been able to match him in a fight. so it makes sense that people would headcanon their relationship as involving fights on the regular. but also;
most of what we see from him in the movie is him fighting, and so we assume that he has a tendency towards it, especially since the past he's trying to escape from is exactly that: him being violent towards others, including those who don't deserve it. i think this has definitely subconsciously shaped some people's perception of him in some way.
but i think it's good to remember that what we are shown isn't proportionate to who he is, because the movie necessarily can't develop his character much outside of the plot. i don't think worst logan and x-men logan are different at all in the sense of x-men logan being "gentler", because not only have we just not had the chance to see worst logan act otherwise, but x-men logan also has this same animalistic violence in him. we can see how quickly he unleashes himself in the movies when the situation calls for it, and even when he's doing it to protect, there's still that rage underneath it all.
worst logan is violent towards wade because 1. he's projecting, and 2. wade can take it. but also it's a symptom of something else that he hasn't worked through, possibly decades of trauma he hasn't worked through. i'm working on a fic that explores this rn, but my headcanon is that his post-x-men rampage was a sort of addiction for him because of the release it gave him, which he then replaced with getting shitfaced, and finding someone who could take him in a fight (wade) could be a reversion to the former addiction if he doesn't work on it. (i think that especially with superhero movies, it's so easy to brush off violence as just another normal thing, but realistically, a failure to unpack all that baggage could escalate his problems into something way worse.)
so imo i think worst logan is practically the same, if not very similar, to x-men logan, just that he's a variant that was dealt the worst card, but we interpret his character differently because all we're shown is what he became because of it. we all know logan is gentle with his lovers, and i think that unless wade shows that he enjoys it, logan would not be violent towards him just because wade can take it. just because you can doesn't mean you should, and i think he of all people would understand that
#user: gossippool 😝#gossippool metas#wow i've been thinking about this for a LONG time but that post i reblogged prompted me to write this finally#i've always been so interested in exploring the concept of violence and how it manifests#and the devastating consequences of leaving it unchecked#so. yeah#i don't think there is really a point to this lmao it's just something i want to say#and again. disclaimer that i still love reading fics where they fuck and fight and where logan just stabs wade for no reason#but it should be all in good fun and not because of an underlying problem left untreated#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#poolverine#wolverine#logan howlett#deadpool
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a simple life (e.m.)
summary: you try to clean your depression room while eddie's over, but he keeps distracting you.
warnings: none except mentions of a dirty room and panties. also... a lot of nicknames. womp womp. not edited.
pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader
wc: 1.4k+
a/n: just a little sweet something i wrote thinkin' about eddie while i took on the task of finally cleaning my depression room after a few months of putting it off. idk. this is boring. i'm sorry.
“Where did you even get this postcard?”
“Eddie.”
“Or what about this choker? Is that a bat? It’s a- oh my God, babe. Why don’t you ever wear this? This is hot.”
Originally, you had thought it was a good idea. Invite Eddie over, allow the body-doubling tactic to work its magic, and voila – you’d finally have the clean room you’d been talking about achieving for weeks now, within a few hours.
“Baby,” you scold, trying to reach across the bed to snatch the necklace he’d found out of his hands. It proves to be difficult, a small pile of laundry you’d been folding hindering you.
“Sweetheart,” he mimics right back, quick to hold the necklace out of your reach, as if you were anyone near from stealing it back from him.
“I asked you to come over to help me, not distract me,” you sigh, crossing your arms and trying to look as pitiful as possible. When you’d first invited him over, you’d assured him that he needn’t lift a single finger. You didn’t want him here to help by aiding in throwing away any of the trash that had begun to litter your desk or taking any dirty plates to the kitchen. No, the intention had been him helping with his mere presence – quiet presence. He was supposed to be working on a new campaign for Hellfire, not being so damn nosey and going through the few items you’d tossed onto the bed from the floor, “I just recently bought that necklace, I haven’t had a chance to wear it.”
His eyes light up mischievously, a small grin tugging at his lips, “Why not wear it now, then? Perfect opportunity, yeah?”
“I’m not fulfilling any slutty maid fantasies you have, Eddie.”
“What if I say please?”
You huff and decide to give up the fight about the necklace, returning back to the laundry before you. You were almost done. You were almost done after a full day of cleaning. If your adorably curious boyfriend would just stop picking at your belongings, you’d probably be able to finish within the hour.
He stands from the small space on your bed he had made for himself, a nest of sorts that he had taken from simply curling up into for a ‘nap’ (which never happened’ to sitting up as he had just been as he clearly grew more bored with each passing moment. “Want some help with folding?”
“You just want an excuse to get your grubby hands on my underwear,” you grumble, folding a shirt with slightly more vigor to emphasize your point.
You’re right, of course. The first article of clothing he grabs is a pair of lacy black panties.
“Guilty,” he coos jokingly, but to your surprise, he actually folds the lingerie. Neatly, at that. With careful hands, he folds it even nicer than you would have in your haste, going as far as walking to your dresser and putting it away into the correct drawer. And then, he takes it a step further, and begins to put away the other clothing you’d already neatly wrapped up, suddenly depleting the mountain of laundry by half, “You know, I don’t mind helping you clean.”
“I already told you, you’re helping by bein-” you start to protest, hands grabbing at a random jean leg but not quite yanking it from the pile.
He’s quick to interrupt you, taking that pair of jeans right from you, “I don’t want to just lay there while you do all the work, contrary to all the sources that say men enjoy that.”
His face isn’t quite as taunting as it had been moments before. Some of the joking has vanished, replaced by something more serious yet somehow softer. The jeans are slung over his arms, neatly halved twice before he sets them to the side and looks at you.
Your shame is palpable, though. You’d just gotten over the embarrassment of having him over when your room would get this filthy. Disastrous in the worst of ways. Dirty clothes strewn everywhere, plates left for days on any surface you could find in your laziness, coke cans and random trash littering the floor. It was embarrassing. You know he had promised to love you through the good and the ugly, but this was far uglier than he could have ever imagined signing up for.
It was bad enough to have him see it, let alone clean it.
“It’s embarrassing,” you finally say quietly. His head tilts, so adorable it tugs at all your heart strings, and you take it as your queue to continue in a near whisper, “It’s gross - I’m gross.”
“Sweetheart, have you even seen my room?” he scoffs. He’s quick to shove some of the clean clothes up into a pile just enough that he can take a seat at the corner of your bed, quickly reaching out to grab your hands and guide you between his spread legs, “Shit happens. Life gets stressful, work gets busy, sometimes we just don’t feel like cleaning up. Shit happens,” his thumb is sweeping soothingly over your knuckles, clearing the impending storm you hadn’t even been aware of. Maybe he hadn’t either – a naturally caring and comforting aura has always been his thing rather than yours, “Out of everyone in this world, I am the least qualified to judge you.”
You don’t really understand it. How he can sit there, looking up at you so dreamily when the two of you are situated in the middle of your still unkempt room, your neck still chilled with a layer of sweat and your hair tumbling out of the bun you hadn’t properly secured. But he is. He’s looking at you not as if he doesn’t see the mess, both of the room and of yourself, but as if he does and simply doesn’t care.
“Besides,” his lips are splitting with another grin, his hands squeezing your hands three times, “It’s kind of domestic. ‘M kind of into it.”
“Me? Doing laundry?” you snort, blinking away any fears that had crept up. It’s hard to feel inadequate with his eyes on you, spilling so many sweet nothings like it’s just another casual Tuesday conversation and not the fuel to your beating heart, “Didn’t you just say you don’t want to just sit and-”
“Us,” he cuts you off in correction, “Us doing laundry.”
“You… like the thought of doing laundry with me?” you say slowly, carefully, unsure of the words as they fall from your lips.
Doing laundry sounded like the least romantic thing the two of you could ever partake in.
“I like the thought of doing laundry with you,” he repeats with a nod, “I like the thought of doing laundry with you, of doing dishes together after we just made the world's most mediocre dinner ever, of you complaining when I won’t get up so you can make the bed on the weekend,” he tugs you even closer. You have no choice but to let a knee fall to each side of his hips, straddling his lap as he wraps his arms around you and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to one of your collar bones, “Call me cheesy. I like the thought of a simple life, but only if it’s with you.”
Something warms inside of you. The thought of a life of simplicity, of lazy mornings and boring afternoons, all brightened up by the boy in front of you. A boy who creates magical worlds with his words on a weekly basis, a boy obsessed with fantasy novels and all things adventurous, who wants his greatest life adventure to just be a mundane lifetime with you.
You can imagine it would be anything but mundane with Eddie, but the tranquility still exists and blankets the two of you.
You lift a hand, carding it through his scalp, careful not to let your fingers snag on his messy curls, “Does this mean you’ll do your taxes with me next week?”
With a quick snort, he buries his face into your chest, shaking his head furiously, “Don’t push it, sweetheart.”
You know he will, though. He’ll help you fold the laundry, he’ll help you wash the dishes, and he’ll certainly sit through the dreadful hours of doing taxes if they’re spent with you.
A few beats of silence. His arms have wrapped just right so that his warm palm presses into your lower back, the other hand tracing a mindless circle over your shirt a few inches higher. Your breathing matches his, fingers rubbing a matching pattern into his scalp that has him humming periodically.
The laundry will get done eventually, but it can wait. For now, you just want to hold your boy, and let him hold you.
“It’s a date,” he finally gives in, voice muffled, making you smile widely, “I’ll light candles and everything, sweetheart.”
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
#my writing#ghost's stories#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#this is so boring lmao my bad#i do believe he'd be such a lil nuisance if i was trying to clean with him in the room#this was written in under an hour and definitely not edited my bad#just wanted to stretch my legs with our favorite metalhead idk#look at me#finally writing and posting again#ooooooooo#i want a simple life with him please
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The TTPD Deep Dive (Part ?)
It’s no secret that I have a lot of Thoughts about The Tortured Poets Department and it has lived rent-free in my head since it came out earlier this year. I’m absolutely blown away by how underneath the chaos, it’s actually an exceptionally cohesive story and is probably the closest to a concept album Taylor has ever done.
There are so many themes that have stood out to me over the last five months, and there’s one in particular that I think not only drives the entire album, but ties into previous albums to help deepen understanding of it.
This is it, my fangirl magnum opus, my months of posts consolidated into one place. This is also my disclaimer that this is just my interpretation of the album, and my summary of the story it tells, and I don’t pretend to have any special insight or authority. I’m not saying I’m correct at all, do not take any of this as fact, it’s just what it sounds like to me, and these are my silly not-so-little thoughts about it.
(Under a cut because it’s way too long and involves discussion many may not care for or be sick of.)
Come one, come all, it's happening again (I'm thinking too hard about Taylor music)
The overarching theme in TTPD to me is: Grief. If you’re looking at TTPD as a story being told (instead of just as someone’s real life), the inciting incident of TTPD is loss, and the grief from that loss is what drives the narrator’s actions and the fallout, as well as unpacks those complicated feelings and how they apply to the her life in general. By the end of the standard album, it’s also about recovering from that pain, moving on from it and learning from it.
The loss specifically is the loss of the dream of having a family (with one’s partner). One thing that is abundantly clear both on the top line and under the surface in TTPD is how Taylor (as a person and as narrator) longed not only to for marriage but specifically parenthood, and the fear and then realization of losing that chance absolutely wrecked her— which is why the next lover’s (the conman's) wooing worked so well, because it preyed on that yearning. Yet that loss also dovetails into the grief of many things: of youth, of idealism, of relationships, of ideas, even of self, which causes almost a deconstruction of a belief system to piece one’s life back together by the end.
THE CONTEXT
TTPD weaves in the topics of marriage and motherhood both explicitly and in the subtext, in various forms and scenarios. The cheating husband in “Fortnight.” The wedding ring line in “TTPD” the song. “He saw forever so he smashed it up” in “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys.” All of “So Long, London.” Running away with her wild boy in “But Daddy I Love Him,” fantasizing about weddings and joking about babies. The imaginary rings in “Fresh Out The Slammer.” The cheating husband (again) and the friends who smell like weed or “little babies” in “Florida!!!” “You and I go from one kiss to getting married,” “Talking rings and talking cradles,” and “our field of dreams engulfed in fire” in “loml.” (And arguably: “I wish I could un-recall how we almost had it all.”) “He said he’d love me all his life, but that life was too short,” in “I Can Do It With A Broken Heart.” They may not sound like much on their own, but they paint a picture about how the topics pervaded her thoughts and her writing, and in many cases express her desires, and her pain.
It’s something that goes back several albums when you pick up on context clues. You get the first hints on Reputation with “New Year’s Day,” and “you and me forevermore.” Then Lover is very forward with it: “Lover” is basically wedding vows, “Paper Rings” is very engagement-coded, “I Think He Knows” is cheeky but low-key “you better put a ring on it,” “It’s Nice To Have A Friend” has wedding/marriage imagery in the last verse. As a self-professed diaristic writer, it’s the type of stuff one presumably doesn’t put out there unless those conversations have already happened, and she was very excited about it at the time it was released.
Then the pandemic happens and folklore comes out, and while there is still happy love there (“invisible string”), there are also the first indications that something has happened to put a halt to whatever future she once dreamed of (“hoax,” “the lakes”) and that she’s trying to reassure herself and him that it can still happen even if she’s scared it might not (“peace”). Notably, as far as I can remember it’s the first time Taylor explicitly brings up the idea of family (with her partner) with “you know that I’d give you my wild, give you a child,” which stood out at the time because it’s so incredibly vulnerable, but it’s even more poignant when you really take in that the whole song is like a confession of her deepest worries, and this is her vowing to give him these things that she holds most sacred if he’ll let her. These are what she cherishes most dearly and wants to return in kind: her youth and commitment (my wild), the family she craves (a child), unconditional support (swing for the fences/sit in the trenches) and understanding/compassion (silence that only comes when two people know each other).
Evermore follows an even darker path, and suddenly the album explores relationships that end and grappling with loss. There are toxic relationships (“tolerate it”), dangerous marriages (“no body, no crime,” “ivy”), failing/broken relationships (“Coney Island,” “champagne problems,” “happiness,” “‘tis the damn season”), as well as grief (“Marjorie,” “evermore”). Even some of the happy songs have uncertainty in them: in “willow” she’s begging for him to take her lead, like she’s still trying to decipher him and ask him to commit; in “cowboy like me,” still a beautiful love song, she’s thinking, “this wasn’t supposed to work and we were supposed to bail on each other but we fell in love instead”; “evermore” is about the depths of severe depression (and more) with the love story being the one saving grace in her darkest hour. And it’s also notable that after all the “fiction” writing, shortly after this album she writes “Renegade” where she’s telling the subject: I’m ready to start the next phase of our life now, why aren’t you? Is it me you don’t want after all? It’s like there’s something telling her that this stall might not just be a stall.
Midnights is a jumble (in a good, but in hindsight, also sad way) with the “sleepless nights” concept, but it seems pretty clear now that the themes and events and relationships she was revisiting tied into a lot of what she was feeling in her present life. I wrote the cliff notes version awhile back, but she’s questioning so much of her life that’s reflected in past events and relationships. Am I actually always the problem? How did we lose sight of each other and what we had? We only seem to work when we block out everyone and everything else. Can we ever go back to when things were good? Why are you neglecting me? I once thought I was going to lose everything but you saved me in the nick of time, can that happen again? I chased my career, but did I give up my chance at having a family in the process? Nobody knows what I really suffer from behind closed doors and I’m all alone.
And so on, which in retrospect now that we have TTPD, is very much what she was grappling with in private while writing and releasing the album. The inspiration behind the songs may have been different events and muses, but regardless of their origins they all end up feeling too familiar, like she's seen this film before (ahem). We’re seeing her view of commitment change too, or rather how she writes about it: she’s not making the outright declarations of it like on Lover, or even the implied ones on folklore, nor is she talking of the dark side of it like evermore. For the most part it’s a return to the early days of some relationships, before things got hard, or the end of them when there was nothing left, and also pushing away the discussion of it altogether by the outside world. “Sweet Nothing” is a sweet slice of life, but even at that, it’s the peace of the home in conflict with the pressure of the outside world. Now that we have “You’re Losing Me,” which was written at the same time as the rest of the album, we can probably deduce that she was going back to the start because something happened that made her doubt the future.
THE SETUP
So much of Midnights directly ties into TTPD, and I said in the post I linked that it’s like Midnights is asking the questions that TTPD answers. But there’s one song in particular on Midnights that sticks out to me as being key in the broadest sense to understanding the state of mind that led to the events of TTPD, and that’s “Bigger Than The Whole Sky,” because the way it expresses grief is reflected in the theme of mourning a life built and the dreams along with it that are never realized in TTPD. There are several instances in TTPD that are basically variations of: “every single thing to come has turned into ashes,” and that’s what makes her snap, and leaves her vulnerable to someone who promises her those things when she’s bereaved at losing them in the first place. (In other words: “the deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling.”) The song tells a story about how that loss of hope colours one’s entire mindset, and in some ways is a bridge to TTPD to understand what such a low point feels like.
I think that that grief, and most importantly losing hope for an imagined future in its wake, is fundamental to understanding TTPD on so many levels: both the decline with one partner that kept her hanging on then led her such a dark path, and why she fell for the conman's apparent bullshitting because it offered an express pass to what she was losing with her partner. And I also feel like it plays a part into the ruminating she’s doing all over Midnights, trying to make sense of where she finds herself when she’s writing the album, which directly leads to “You’re Losing Me.” Loss permeates so many of the stories on Midnights: of lovers, of innocence, of youth, of faith, of control, of life’s work, etc. “BTTWS” is just one of the ways in which it is expressed so fully, capturing that deep depression and subsequent extinction of faith in something that once felt assured and very much wanted. (Which is also mentioned in her writing process in the “Depression” playlist on Apple Music.)
If you understand why that feeling of loss in general across so many parts of life is so important to Midnights, then it illuminates so much about the “narrative” in TTPD too. If on Midnights she’s wrestling with the seeds of grief and loss (on multiple fronts), TTPD is her reckoning with it in its full form. “So Long, London” is the song that is the most explicit about it: How much sad did you think I had in me? How much tragedy? Just how low did you think I’d go before I’d have to go be free? You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? I died on the altar waiting for the proof. It’s the sequel to “You’re Losing Me.” It’s, the air is thick with loss and indecision, I know my pain is such an imposition, I’m getting tired even for a phoenix, all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier, I’ve got nothing left to believe unless you’re choosing me, my heart won’t start anymore, but from the other side of the break.
This is highly speculative, but if you follow the thread about the topic and the relationship as told from Rep through TTPD, in broad strokes it goes: young love with a serious connection (Rep) -> growing up and making life plans (Lover) -> something happens that delays those plans or makes them grind to a halt (folklore) -> serious doubts arise and cause a loss of faith in their future (evermore) -> struggling with the loss of that future and trying to make sense of the problems in a last ditch attempt to save the relationship (Midnights) -> fallout from that grief after the blowup of the relationship (TTPD). Understanding that progression of events (through the music) explains not only the storytelling side of TTPD (e.g. the jump from the partner to the conman) but also how the experiences/muses blend in the music, and how the music that on the surface is about the short-term relationship is really driven by the destruction of the long-term one.
Following the music, it’s IMO implied that Taylor (the narrator) was holding out for marriage and family with her partner, for years, and it seems like it was at one point a shared dream until something happened to pump the brakes, and seemingly on her partner’s end. And extrapolating further, given how the sorrow expressed in former albums bleeds into TTPD, it sounds like a plan that had been concrete in some form before it had fallen apart, and losing something that once felt so tangible is what drives her in her grief to find any kind of respite from the pain. Which is why the situation with the conman becomes so appealing as the one with the partner splinters further and further.
(If everything you’ve once touched is sick with sadness and you don’t want to be sad anymore, what are you left to do?)
THE STORY
So (one part of) the story kind of sounds like this from the standard album: the relationship with her partner as well as his mental health slowly deteriorate and he withdraws emotionally (“London,” “Fresh Out The Slammer”) and physically (again, “London,” and “Guilty As Sin?”) and takes his resentment out on her (“London” and arguably “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys” even though I don't want to get into muse speculation here). As she sinks deeper into her own depression as a result, the weight of the failing relationship starts feeling like a cage— or a noose (“London,” “Guilty”), but coming to terms with the loss of their life together and the future they’d dreamed of was killing her (again, “London,” but also “I Can Do It With A Broken Heart”).
Enter the conman who she reconnects with at the very point where this is coming to a head (knowing that IRL she reconnected with him around the time Midnights was being worked on) , and if you read between the lines, she confides some deeply personal things to him (“Down Bad” and “hostile takes overs”/“encounters closer and closer,” “Smallest Man” and the entire sleeper cell spy imagery which is one of my favourite things and I could write a whole essay about the meaning of it, “loml” and “A con man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme”). Then after she’s confided these secrets to him, he insinuates himself back into her life (“Guilty,” “Down Bad,” “Smallest Man”) and sells her a dream that HE can give her all these things she hopes for (again, “Down Bad,” “Smallest Man,” “loml,” song “TTPD,” “Broken Heart”).
But the thing is, he only knows these are the things she wants because she’s revealed it to him, and presumably, told him that was what she was losing by staying with her partner. And instead of the normal response of, “that is really sad that your partner is not supporting you and you deserve to be treated better,” to a friend in growing distress, it seems like it was, “well I can give you all those things!!!! Right now!!!! Trust me!!!!” And worked on her until she believed it, and jumped at the chance at a precarious time in her life. And one thing I want to underscore is: Taylor has agency in the situation always, it’s not like she’s been kidnapped and brainwashed. (In fact, she implores on songs like “But Daddy” that SHE is in charge of her own choices, good or bad.) She chose to rekindle the friendship and then relationship, and she chose to eventually leave her long term relationship for another man, and she reiterates on the album that she owns this all. But it’s also: nothing exists in a vacuum, and she makes choices based on emotions and information she has at the time, which is why it gives so much whiplash.
THE ALBUM
When you look at it as, the situation with the conman only happens because of what happened with the partner first and that the appeal of the conman and the fantasy he sells her is a direct reaction to that, it makes the “swirliness” of the music make so much more sense. And for much of it, even many of the “conman” songs on the surface are really “partner” songs underneath.
Fortnight
A suburban gothic allegory about a broken marriage with a distant husband with a wandering eye, which makes the rekindled romance with the neighbor so appealing. She’s miserable caged in her stifling house because she’s been abandoned by her spouse, so the reappearance of this past love reignites the passion that’s dead at home.
TTPD
“So tell me, who else is gonna know me?” “I chose this cyclone with you.” I’m gonna kill myself if you ever leave. Everyone knows we’re crazy. She’s laying it out there that she’s already in a dangerous state of mind, and she’s actively putting herself in more danger by pursuing the conman. “At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on, and that’s the closest I’ve come to my heart exploding,” spells this whole thing out so clearly: whether it’s an actual event (likely) or a metaphor for the promise he makes to her, the reason why it makes her heart explode is because it’s the thing she’s been waiting for forever with no movement, and here this person comes in and slips it on her finger in an instant like it’s nothing. (And eventually, as we’ll come to know, it is absolutely nothing to him.) You mean it could have been this easy this whole time?! (Well, no. Not until a certain other suitor makes his appearance later.) It feels like she’s finally getting everything she wanted in the blink of an eye! How lucky! How convenient! What was that about the get-love-quick scheme you say? (Unsaid: the reason why this feels so urgent is because there’s a sense that time is running out in so many aspects of her life and not just the obvious. Which reappears later on.)
Down Bad
“Did you really beam me up in a cloud of sparkling dust just to do experiments on?” sets the scene for this euphoric experience in the moment that starts to feel violating once the dust settles (which is then followed up in “Smallest Man” and the spy mission on her). The bridge spells out how he weaselled his way into her life, preyed upon (intentionally or not) her emotional state, sold her a dream and then vanished, without the benefit of hindsight yet we see later in the album.
The alien abduction metaphor is pretty brilliant, because it shows both how she was desperate to escape the place she found herself in, and how much it screwed her brain to then be left stranded when the affair was over. “[I loved your] hostile takeovers, encounters closer and closer,” is so evocative because it details how the situation came to be: his overtures under the guise of friendship blurred lines until he made her an offer that she eventually couldn’t refuse (hostile takeovers) as he infiltrated her life more and more intimately. The sad thing is that the song has parallels to how her relationship with the partner started too in earlier albums, in that they ran away to live in their own bubble (or planet) only for him to metaphorically abandon her as the years went on. (Oven, meet microwave.)
My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys
Being continually emotionally broken down by a person who knows he’s hurting you but still acts the way he does. (The original voice memo version makes this even clearer and it’s rather heartbreaking.) “He saw forever so he smashed it up,” speaks to the loss of a future the person became scared of, and the original lyrics (“he saw forever so he blew it up”) somehow cut even deeper to me because it feels so much more intentional.
Also in the original version, “he was my best friend and that was the worst part,” also speaks not only to the loss of an entire partnership in the wake of this hurt, but also to the feelings of betrayal that the person you trust so deeply has the ability to hurt you in this way too, and how it’s a one-two punch of not only losing the relationship but also your closest confidant. (It’s like the sequel to “Renegade” and the missiles firing to me.) Again, there are shades of both/many situations in the song, pointing to an unfortunate pattern in some ways. The situation in “My Boy” is part of why she was so low, and why the “get love quick scheme” was so appealing later on. And it dovetails nicely into…
So Long, London
The most explicitly “partner” song that puts a coda on “You’re Losing Me,” and is Track 5 because it’s the emotional underpinning of how she got to where she was, and drives the events of the rest of the album. It spells everything out: He withdrew, she tried to fix it for both of them, eventually even that stopped working, he was oblivious to or minimized how badly she was suffering and his (in)actions couldn’t reassure her, he wouldn’t move forward on their future plans and stewed in his own struggles, she was spiralling out of control trying to hang on and ultimately felt like she was going to die if she didn’t leave.
But Daddy I Love Him
Like a direct reaction to “So Long, London” in that she breaks free from the death of one relationship and throws herself with reckless abandon to the next, fuck the haters. How dare you judge me, when the relationship you think I should have stayed in was killing me? (Dutiful daughter all the plans were laid. All you want is gray for me.) Fuck all of you, I’m going to choose whoever I want! (So what if I have a baby with HIM, huh?! I tried doing it the proper way and look where that got me so now we're back to square one) It’s again her imagining how wonderful and freeing this “wild boy” is going to be for her, and how wrong she’ll prove everyone. THIS TIME she definitely got it right. So what if she has to run away! So what if she scandalizes the whole town! They don’t know what she really wants or needs anyway! She’s the only one of her (hee-hee-hee) and she’s the only who gets to decides how this goes. (Because: she longs for control in a situation she’ll eventually realize she has little of it in, which we’ll find out is a recurring theme in her life.)
Fresh Out The Slammer
Also spells out what happened with the partner in the first verse and the pre-choruses, which is what makes the conman so appealing as the imagined jailbreak. The bitter loneliness vs. the sultry passion she builds up in her head as she awaits her release from prison is key to understanding the two sides of the story in the album. There’s this whole outlaw imagery (which is also carried through in “I Can Fix Him”), but it’s contrasted in the end with her and her reunited lover sitting on park swings like children with “imaginary rings” — because “Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake.” What’s at stake is lasting love and the promises that come with it (marriage/family) that are precious and time-sensitive. The imaginary rings are both a nod to the youthful dreams of her and her new/old lover, but also has a double meaning to me because those promises aren’t built on anything together; they're made up, intangible. (They’re no more concrete than the plans that went up in smoke with the partner.) Like with most of the conman situation, it’s all a fantasy in her head that has yet to happen, and as we find out later in the album, reality ends up leaving much to be desired.
Florida!!!
Broadly speaking, it’s running away from your problems and wanting to disappear from your life. (But again: the life she’s disappearing from is the cheating husband she may or may not be feeding to the swamp-- another miserable marriage.) What kind of flies under the radar though is the “I don’t want to exist,” line, which points to her dire state of mind that led her to fleeing to that metaphorical timeshare down in Destin. In many ways about cheating death.
Guilty As Sin
Yes it’s the “masturbation song,” but again the nuance is that she’s left to pleasure herself because her partner has abandoned her emotionally and even physically, i.e. “my boredom’s bone deep.” To be blunt: they aren’t even intimate anymore, so she starts fantasizing about the guy she used to have chemistry with who’s reentered her life and is making moves on her. And realizing that she’s now finding release in another man (albeit imaginary) breaks her even as it reinvigorates her because she finally understands that the relationship she’s in is effectively dead. (“Am I allowed to cry?”)
Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me
This isn’t about relationships, but about society and its reaction to them in a general sense. But again, she’s left to stew in all this anger and hurt as she’s been abandoned at home, then abandoned by public opinion, and the public attack on her is part of the origin as well as the end of that story. The trauma inflicted upon her detailed in the song is the reason why she felt trapped in the first place, which led to the decisions she’s made and habits she’s leaned on ever since.
I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
This is one of the few songs that is the most completely conman-coded, and shows when the delusion finally breaks at the end of the song. She spends the whole song being like, “no really, I alone can make him better! You’ll see! I know he’s gross, but he’s mine! It’ll be fine I swear! You don’t know anything! Uuuuuum hmm wait actually what the fuck—“
Loml
Oof. THE song. Again the surface reading is about the “conman” who comes in and sells her the lie, but the pain is because all the dreams she writes about are HER dreams and implied that they were the dreams she built with her partner that the conman sold back to her. I could do a deeper dive on this but most of the song is applicable to both relationships, which not only shows the “swirliness” of her writing, but also how they both ultimately did the same thing to her in different shades.
The bridge and the last chorus are kind of fundamental to understanding it all, and her ending it with “you’re the loss of my life” is about, among other things, how falling for this trap blew up the life she built and dreamed of for good. (I could talk about this one forever.) “You shit-talked me under the table, talking rings and talking cradles” to “Our field of dreams engulfed in fire” is a hell of a line and progression, and again, indicative of what the real driving force behind the whole album is. The shit-talking is because he took her dreams (of marriage and children) and hyped it back up to her tenfold whether in a moment of his own delusion or for more nefarious reasons — much like how the man prior kept promising these things but never followed through, which left her vulnerable to someone who appeared to offer them enthusiastically. The field of dreams isn’t just the one with the conman, it’s the one with the longterm relationship she’d built the dream with in the first place, because the conman’s actions are part of the reason the LTR went up in smoke. (Not the reason for the rift, but the consequence of the final break.) And THAT is why it’s the loss of her life, so completely.
When she says “I wish I could un-recall how we almost had it all,” IMO it’s not just the fake future that the conman lures her into, but also (and perhaps mainly) the once-real one she had with her partner and the loss of which that made her susceptible to falling for the con in the first place. There’s honestly so much between the lines in this song that covers every theme and speaks to the grief of seeing the life she imagined slip away, slowly by the first man then annihilated by the second.
I Can Do It With a Broken Heart
The juxtaposition of “He said he’d love me all his life, but that life was too short” and “He said he’d love me for all time, but that time was quite short” sums it up to me (and parallels “loml”), because they are two different situations, but they cut her just the same. In the first, “that life” IMO was the life they’d built with the dreams that went along with it and it was too short because he never followed through, and in the second, the “time” was quite short because it was the frenzy of the whirlwind romance that fizzled as quickly as it began. The life that was too short led to the time that was quite short.
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived
This is definitely THE conman song. The rage, the shame, the violation, it’s all in there. But the key to it is the bridge and the espionage imagery woven through it. A honeypot scheme is when spies target a mark and seduce them to gain their trust and their privileged information for their homeland. So her likening him to a sleeper cell spy who set her up just to mine her deepest secrets and use them against her is a heavy, loaded statement. And implied: that valuable information she unknowingly held were her longings of marriage and family (the aforementioned shit-talking about rings and cradles she never got to have), and more importantly, those dreams preceded him reentering her life and then beginning his mission on her.
The insinuation then is: she confesses these are her deepest wishes which are now seemingly unattainable in her current situation (e.g. with her partner) -> he convinces her HE will give them to her and make the dreams she pines for come true -> she falls for him and blows up her life to make it happen -> he gets what he wants (thrill of the chase/sex/the idea of her/whatever his intent was) -> he abandons her when he gets what he wants, or rather it isn’t what he wants or can handle -> she’s left a) all alone b) with dreams unfulfilled c) with no answers d) feeling used at having her most sacred wishes used against her.
Again, the song is unquestionably about the way the conman absolutely destroyed her, but he was able to do that because there was this thing she wanted more than anything, that was dying in her previous relationship, that he was able to prey upon to seduce her, then discarded her and her dreams as soon as it was inconvenient for him while absolutely hollowing her inside out. (And again: the devastating thing is that this also applies to other relationships she’s written about, in different ways.)
The Alchemy
Not about either the partner or the conman directly, but it (loosely) touches on her finding herself after the whole oven-to-microwave experience and opening herself up to life and love again. #GoodForHer
Clara Bow
This isn’t about the romantic relationships on the surface, but it is about how damaging the entertainment industry and public life are on women, and how women are only valued for their beauty as commodities until they can be discarded and destroyed in the process. Which I think plays into the circumstances that led her to make the decisions that she did years ago, and why she makes the ones she does now. (But also, being valued for physical traits and appeal for the male gaze brings us to…)
The Manuscript
The “original sin” that kicks off all of this. Again, at first light this isn’t about the partner or the conman, but the person it is about is the reason why she has made all the decisions she has ever since in relationships (and that’s Mr. Plaid Shirt Days from “All Too Well”). The realization that her first serious adult relationship is what cemented these patterns, and this view of herself and her worthiness in relationships, is profoundly sad. An older man who valued her for being so mature for her age and implying that the mature activities ahem associated with that were the performance benchmarks in her ability to carry a relationship, only to leave her, was earth shattering. She placed her faith in this person, but then the way he treated her changed her view of love and of herself.
She took his innuendo about “pushing strollers” as a sign of potential commitment, whereas he ultimately meant it as foreplay, and she was too young and naive to know the difference. So not only did she learn from that that this man (and men) didn’t view commitment and family the way she did and that it was something to be toyed with, but she also learned that her value to them among other things was sex. Imagine being an idealistic 20 year old and your boyfriend ten years your senior tells you, “if the sex is anywhere near as good as our dates have been, we’re going to be making babies before you know it,” (e.g. this is relationship is serious) and then he dumps you: does that imply that the sex was not in fact that good? (E.g. that you’re not worthy after all?)
No, obviously from this side of life, it’s because he was a commitment-phobic playboy, even if he did love her, but she couldn’t have known that at 20 and instead internalized that shame. But, it did send her on a path of how she approached sex and love and relationships for over a decade afterwards. And her coming to the realization that that first act of (perhaps unintentional) manipulation is what informed her actions thereafter helped her break the pattern. Her worth to men is not just sex, she has value and her hopes and dreams have value, she doesn’t have to change into a different person to please anyone, because if that is what they want, they won’t ever want her anyway.
It’s been described here on Tumblr by people more eloquent and astute than I as a song that encapsulates the album as this: one did it slow (partner), one did it fast (conman), and one did it first (first love)— and that is haunting. After years of men minimizing her dreams and desires, if not outright using them against her, she’s finally at the point where she can let it all go and move on for good. (There’s a whole other tangent about consent and shame and manipulation, but that’s an entirely different kind of discussion. But it is so devastatingly contrasted with “you said if we had been closer in age maybe it would have been fine, and that made me want to die.”)
THE SUMMATION
This is just my interpretation of it, but in going through the standard album, it feels pretty clear how cohesive the album is about a story of love and loss and grief, then reckoning with what caused it all in the first place that set a person on this path. It’s a formative experience at a young age that was traumatic and led to certain coping mechanisms and a shaping of one’s self-perception, as well as the reaction to external pressures that try to dictate behaviours and influence how one feels one deserves out of love which makes it harder to know when one absolutely deserves more and better. And leaves one struggling to cope with loss when there isn’t anything else to hold onto. Then in light of one’s life blowing up, learning to find oneself in the aftermath all over again.
On another tangent that is somewhat related to the theme of loss, the way she writes about the two main muses on the standard album also ties into how the situations converged to create absolute carnage on her emotional and mental well-being. With one situation, she’s talking about a concrete life that crumbles under the weight of their struggles; with the other, the entire thing is a fantasy that she builds up in her head, and when it comes to fruition it falls far, far short.
If you look at the “microwave” (conman) relationship, you realize that almost everything she writes about it happens before it actually becomes reality, and it’s mostly her imagining how great it’ll be, but with few exceptions, when she writes about what actually occurred, it doesn’t even come close to living up to her expectations. “Fortnight” is an imagined future where she escapes to Florida and his touch finally starts her stalled engine (ahem). “TTPD” is perhaps the most positive retelling of their time together, but even that implies he was better off stoned and when he sobered up he succumbed to his demons all over again, and more importantly she conveys how she also is in extreme distress, barely concealed by the veneer of being infatuated with him. (E.g. saying to that she’ll kill herself if he ever leaves her — the implication is that she is absolutely serious about it when she “felt seen.”) And that the warning bells are going off in her head, but she feels like this person is the only one she can be with (because they’re equally fucked up and the chaos he brings into her life makes her feel alive when she felt so close to death).
“Down Bad” is the most explicit about being in love, but she’s also left completely confused and disoriented by him disappearing, wondering if any of it was real and the seeds of violation creep into her consciousness (“did you really beam me up in a cloud of sparkling dust just to do experiments on?” “Waking up in blood.”). “But Daddy” is her imagining she can tell everyone to fuck off for telling her what to do with her life. “Fresh Out The Slammer” is her fantasizing about this man while feeling trapped in her relationship — but never in the song is she actually reunited with him; she’s using him as the projection of all the things she’ll make right after being wronged by her partner. “Guilty As Sin?” Is very obviously about her fantasizing about sleeping with him, but again it’s such a minefield for her because it hasn’t happened yet; they’ve only just reconnected. “I Can Fix Him” is the only song other than “TTPD” that shows them actually together, and it’s the one where she keeps saying, essentially, “I know he’s gross but I can rehabilitate him into an upstanding person, trust me,” until the mic drop at the end of the song where it finally hits her that no, she can’t, because this is who he is, not the person she’s built him up to be.
“Loml” is when it all comes crashing down, and the song emphasizes everything he did and told her, e.g. that she’s the love of his life, but she doesn’t return the sentiment in the song about their time together. Because now that it’s past tense, she knows it wasn’t actually love. (And says as much in the album epilogue poem.) “Broken Heart” is her reeling in the aftermath, but again, it’s “he said,” not “I loved.” And then there’s “The Smallest Man,” where she eviscerates him: he also pursued an idea of her but didn’t care much for the real her in front of him (who else is gonna know me?), he love bombed her only to hurt her (crushing her dreams), he was constantly stoned (and not just in the funny munchies kind of way), and he wasn’t even a good lover (despite the fantasy she’d created before). That last point is especially striking because she spent albums singing about the importance of and pleasure in (sexual) intimacy in the relationship with her partner (sometimes to both their own detriment) and how it was at times the only way they could connect, but in this case, the idea she hyped up and acted on in her head about this lover never panned out in practice. She spells it out in the epilogue: it wasn’t a love affair, it was a mutual manic phase.
In contrast, there’s a lot more tangible action in the “oven” (partner) parts of the album, showing how hard she tried to make the relationship work in real life instead of just in her head. All of “So Long, London” is her detailing how she tried to break through to him and support him, even when he rejected it and pushed her away, thinking she could carry them both until they ultimately sank, but she did it because she “loved this place for so long.” (The place? Not just the city, but the home and perhaps most importantly, him.) In “Slammer” she stayed with him even as things disintegrated for “one hour of sunshine.” (E.g. holding onto the rarer good times even as they were fewer and further between, hoping things would eventually turn around.) And like in “London,” she held on despite people in her life pleading with her that it was hurting her. (Which is also echoed in “Slammer.”) In “Guilty” her boredom is “bone deep” because the passion that once drove their relationship (and papered over their problems) has finally gone out too, so there’s nothing left to hold onto, leading to her fantasizing about the new suitor, which makes her realize her relationship has passed the point of no return. “Loml” is about the conman on the surface, but the undercurrent of all the things she says about him is that he was co-opting the dreams that she was clinging onto for dear life in the previous relationship, which is why the con is so painful; the field of dreams he sets ablaze isn’t just the fake painting he sold to her, but the original artifact (her life with her partner) too.
All the physical and emotional labour she puts into the relationship with her partner ends up reflected in the fantasizing she does in the one with the conman, which is why it is so confusing in the moment and so lethal when he leaves her without any answers. She wants to get married and start a family with her partner which keeps getting stalled; the conman mock-proposes which makes her think he’s immediately serious (“TTPD,” “loml”). She feels caged by having to hide with her partner and shrink herself; the conman promises he’ll stand by her side publicly and let her shine (“Smallest Man”). She sinks into a deep depression in her loneliness as the relationship with her partner careens off a cliff; the conman convinces her they’re meant for each other in a them-against-the-world way (“Down Bad”). The intimacy (in all senses of the word) in her relationship with her partner fizzles; the conman stokes the fire by sending her secret messages and reigniting passion (“Guilty”). She spent years trying to help her partner to no avail; the conman makes her think she has the power to reform him (“loml”). She feels misunderstood by her partner; the conman acts like he’s the (only) one who truly gets her (“TTPD,” “loml”).
In short: there’s nothing that the conman does or says that isn’t a direct response to what her partner did first, and it’s even worse because the conman knew how much her partner’s actions hurt her and he used that privileged information to paint a picture of what he could give her, but in doing so in some ways aimed at her heart with even deadlier accuracy. (I’ve likened it to him borrowing someone else’s life for his own joyride, until he crashes the rental car and flees the scene.) It’s why in the aftermath, the difference in emotions are so different: she feels nothing but rage and violation towards the conman for getting in her head and using her, whereas her feelings towards her partner are more complicated. There’s anger (at her lost youth and being taken for granted), but there’s also sorrow (at their lost life and future), disappointment (that he never could step up the way he’d promised or she’d needed), even compassion (towards his struggles) and a tiny measure of appreciation (for the good times they did share).
When you look at the bigger picture, the story the album paints is just so painfully normal. You have two people (Taylor and her partner) who once loved each other deeply, and despite warning signs early on telling them they have fundamentally different needs and ways of living their lives they fight like hell to make it work (the epilogue) until those warning signs become grenades that destroy their home (“My Boy,” “London,” “Slammer,” arguably “loml”). Having already been through at least one rough patch/break/breakup that she felt almost destroyed her (harkening back to Midnights on “You’re Losing Me,” “The Great War” and “Hits Different”), the final and fatal downward spiral of the relationship (“YLM,” “London”) and the grief over losing that future sends her into a tailspin, just at the time where a flame from the past (the conman) reenters her life and tells her all the things she’s been longing to hear and feel (“TTPD,” “Down Bad,” “Guilty,” “loml”) and, crucially, missing from the relationship that was once her entire life.
So in her panic, she falls prey to the (empty) promises of the past lover (“loml,” “Smallest Man”) and decides he’s actually what will save her from the free fall, because the alternative (that she will end up in a situation she doesn’t think she can survive) is too painful to bear. When she finally acts on these circumstances (leaves her partner/runs to the conman), she snaps, acting on pure emotion and adrenaline (“But Daddy”), but before she knows it, the new lover abandons her, and she’s left to reckon with the fallout of the episode and process everything that has happened (“Down Bad,” “loml”) — with the conman, with her partner, with the choices made in her adult life personally and professionally which leads her back to the moment she feels set her down that road at the start.
The TL;DR of this unintentionally long essay is that the reason the conman affair was so serious was precisely because it was meant to fulfill the promise of what was her life with her partner. To me, a large part of the story is that she projected that life onto the conman (or he projected her life back to her for his own purposes) because she wasn’t ready to deal with that massive grief and the life raft he offered felt like the only alternative to an even darker end. Whether the conman actually believed what he told her, or he went along with it or encouraged it because it served his purpose, we’ll never know, just like we’ll never know the finer details of what went on (nor should we). But no matter what, the album is just an extreme deep dive into all the ways grief can consume us, and whether it’s a long, drawn-out death or a sudden, inexplicable one, it can turn a person’s life into such a trainwreck that they act in ways unfathomable to even them, let alone the people around them. It can also unleash repressed trauma and mental illness that can crater your sense of self. And when those situations are compounded? It makes for a nearly impossible type of breakdown to unpack. (Which is why you might need a 31 song album to process it.)
#What if i told you I’m back lol#Time for me to finally just post the thing after it’s been sitting in my drafts for so long so I can rid myself of it lol#Writing letters addressed to the fire#the tortured poets department#Consider this a treat before Eras comes back for its swan song leg idk#Would you believe that as long as this is#i deleted quite a few chunks of it from the original draft i sent to a friend(s) in the interest of ~propriety~#Because they were a little too rambly and um— ~speculative~/personal/etc and we are flying too close to the sun#And i tried to be as tactful and more or less stick to things we can point to in the music and such#So hope people catch my drift lmao but also iykyk i guess#I have so many other themes I want to talk about but I never have any time#I have so much more i want to say and yet#wavesoutbeingtossed: The Anthology#Also if things get weird i will turn off reblogs/delete the post tbd#This is not an invitation to get into muse ranting or debate in my inbox and I ask that you please respect my boundaries :)#Midnights#lover#folklore#evermore
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Oh yeah story idea: percy Jackson reaches his emotional/mental limits) (annabeth gets knocked down during a huge fight and nearly gets killed) and goes absolutely ape. We're talking hurricanes, earthquakes, a zillion exploding water sources, blood bending, poison bending, pounding rain, the works.
And it starts to kill him. Like eating too much ambrosia, his mortal body is burning up, too much power too quickly.
But through sheer force of will and the amount of divine energy he's putting out, he keeps clinging on as his body crumbles to ash, divine power building stronger and stronger and higher and higher.
And he accidentally brute forces his way into godhood.
And what would have been a true power reveal and two deaths, Percy being punished for his strength ala Frank, abruptly becomes a pseudo divine political drama, with percy at risk of any dozen horrific fates the frenzied council are slinging around (minus poseidon, who is also frenzied but unwilling to let his newly immortal son die) whilst dealing with all the ramifications of divinity and the new social strata of the immortal pantheon (and EVERYONE having opinions), all while trying to get back home.
But Annabeth survives because of it, so he can't really complain.
#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#percy pjo#percy series#percy and annabeth#percabeth#pjo hoo toa#pjo series#pjo fandom#heroes of olympus#riordanverse#prompt#fic prompt#writing prompt#story prompt#writing ideas#story prompts#Poseidon would be so awkward lmao#He'd know how upset and devastated percy was and he's going to have to tell his immortal family but also yay?? But also aaaa wtf#He'd get the implications but also yay immortal son he won't have to watch die and he can finally spend time with him safely#Zeus would just want Percy dead. Athena would have Plans tm. Annabeth is nearly dead. Mr d is getting so much drama from both sides.#EVERYONE is freaking out a lot because it's not supposed to be possible and the implications are not great for anyone.#Percy just really wants to go home and hug his mum and gf#Plus he's got way too much beef with people up top to live peacefully on olympus lmao
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A LOOK AT STYLE'S JOURNEY | Ep 8
(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7 | Ep9 | Ep10 | Ep11 | Ep12)
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 spend four 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:
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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. โอกาสมันไม่ได้มีไว้สำหรับคนเลว [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. โดนหลอกด้วยอะไรซึ้งๆง่าย [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. มึงไม่ใช่ศาลมาพิพากษาชีวิตคนอื่นนะเว้ย [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. กูอ่ะแค่คิดว่าคงไม่มีใครเตือนและหวังดีกับมึงเท่ากูละ [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. โอกาสมันไม่ได้มีไว้สำหรับคนเลว [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 | Ep9 | Ep10 | Ep11 | Ep12)
#the heart killers#fadelstyle#stylefadel#thk ep8#thk meta#my meta#thkmetamine#adrm#oooof i just spent 7h straight proofreading this rip#my brain is mush now#hopefully it's still functional enough that i can start getting into ep9 once i've eaten something#this is at 18k words btw#which is funny considering my first post was like 6k words for TWO episodes#now i'm at nearly 20k words for just one#WATCH ME HIT 20k BY THE FINALE LMAO#a bit sad i didn't manage to publish this before ep9 but oh well#gdi how am i supposed to write another post like this in 4 days#at least i don't have uni anymore#although i do still have SOME assignments#anyway. food.#also if you know what the section title of section 10 references... hi. what's your fave cheese related memory?
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I have way too many alts that I keep to myself (which is why I generally refrain from posting them), but I'm going to ignore that habit for a moment just because I'm feeling particularly insane about this guy.
#silvis side characters#<--- been a while since i used that tag despite intending it to be for this specific type of char#i basically like to play sandbox with concepts for both screens and writing so they tend to become surprisingly developed#even if i end up not touching them again once im satisfied and have gained the outlet i wanted#... this guy and another connected to him has been unusually persistent however. surprisingly so. LOL#maybe i should post them more``??? but for some reason that feels weird cause what if i just dont use them again!!#idk why i feel like im setting up expectations i need to hold. literally no one is putting pressure on me to do anything its ALL in my brai#i mean its a bit because i know i got too much and thats overwhelming and therefore its not like i expect anyone to keep track of them LOL#im regretfully cursed with too much inspiration for too many things at all times and i will make it everyone elses problem just for a bit#anyway the reason i dont intend to make this one a more major oc for use with other people (for the time being at least)#is because he's so HEAVILY tied to another side character of mine in a way where im not sure they can be separated from each other.#actually you can see him now i realize its the viera in the first shot lmao!#i forgot to mention his name is yuzuru and thats about as much as ill inflict on anyone right now <333#i promise you i dont JUST have male midlanders as unbelievable as that might sound. anyway-#ffxiv#final fantasy xiv#hyur#midlander#ffxiv screenshot#gpose#gposers#ff14#final fantasy 14#nabaath-areng
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I don’t know how I managed to do this in a day. Like. I think I pumped this out on pure adrenaline
But again. If ur at the caption ya probably say the PSA spoiler wall that says that this comic contains spoilers for the Limited Life SMP finale. Well and I’m tagging this as spoilers so it’d be evident anyways lol. So I won’t write my spiel about go watch the end of Limited Life and I’ll just say oh my god what a finale it was absolutely epic. I loved every moment of it.
But yeah. I sketched this out as one of those “ahh silly goofy doodly sketchy sketchbook comics when I’m spewing a thought into my sketchbook” and then. My impulsiveness (there’s a pun there. Is it intentional? That’s for you to decide) won in the end and this exists now. It’s not the best quality of anything I’ve ever made but gosh darnit it was so much fun to make. So so much fun.
But yeah. Limited Life was absolutely amazing from start to finish and every POV was awesome (but if ya can’t tell team TIES is gonna live in my head rent free for a while lol)
That said. Enjoy this silly little mini comic I made and have a good day :D
#limited life spoilers#limited life smp spoilers#limited life smp#limited life smp fanart#impulsesv#impulsesv fanart#skizzleman#skizzleman fanart#tango tek#tango tek fanart#ethoslab#ethoslab fanart#team ties#team ties fanart#i think making this gave my brain more seratonin than its had in a long long time cuz im shaking pretty hard as i write this lmao#this was unreasonably fun to make. why was this unreasonably fun to make#i dont make comics very often but gosh darn this was so much fun#also. martyn so deserves that win. like the twist of him just going off#like. that was absolutely epic. that whole finale was absolutely epic#but yea enjoy this comic that i literally speedran in two days. why was this such an adrenaline rush lol#also i made those spoiler walls for instagram and theyre not fantastic but i worked too hard on them to not put them here too#(and not maintagging martyn's tag cuz he's here for all of a panel. ya know how it be)
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