#my father like genuinely disgusts me. in everything

[theonpilled]

x

[ofswordsandpens]

Okay compiling my most critical opinions on the pjo show so far (episodes 1 & 2)

The Gods' Conflict, Foreshadowing, & Big Three Kids

The show has seemingly dropped a lot of the foreshadowing and threat regarding the gods impending war over the theft of the lightning bolt. In the book, Percy remarks about how the weather's been inexplicably weird and extreme. When he gets to camp everyone is on pins and needles about something and they don't want to talk about it but its still very present. By the time he's claimed as a son of Poseidon and everyone's like "oh fuck" and then Chiron finally explains to Percy that the gods think he's the lightning thief, everything clicks into place for the reader. It all makes sense why everything seems so wrong... because things are wrong. Meanwhile in the show, that doesn't carry through as much, so the reveal of the conflict between the gods and why that's a big deal falls flat in comparison imo.

They dropped/stalled the foreshadowing of the fates and the cutting of the string. They could very well include this in future episodes, and probably will, but I think the timing of it - Percy seeing this before he even knew he was a demigod - again carries some hefty significance and helped set the foreboding tone of things being wrong even from the beginning.

They did drop Zeus's attack on Percy in the minotaur battle completely, which does disappoint me. In the book, its lightning that blasts the car off the road. In the show, Sally seemingly loses control of the car. That change is pretty significant, because it's again losing the power of RR's foreshadowing in the book. The attack on Percy outside the camp borders was a duel attack from Zeus and Hades.

Finally, I don't like the changes they made to Percy's claiming scene, namely, the reaction from the rest of CHB. Percy being a son of Poseidon is a huge deal. When Percy's claimed, the attitude is very much begrudging reverence paired with genuine fear of what it means and what he represents. In the book, Percy is claimed. People gasp. Everyone kneels. Annabeth says, "This is really not good." In the show, Percy is claimed. People... stand there? Annabeth smiles - she's going to get her quest. The only person who has the most outright negative reaction is Luke. I won't go so far to say this is out of character for Annabeth, but it is focusing on an entirely different aspect of her character in the moment, and what the audience gets from Percy's claiming scene here, the tone, is now different from the book. Basically, the reverence and fear don't really carry across to the show, which I think is important.

The phrase "forbidden child" slaps tho.

2. Gabe's Characterization, Sally's Characterization, & Why the Changes do Make a Difference

I'm going to say this with great care: The show has absolutely depicted an abusive relationship between Sally and Gabe. The show has shown Sally to be a strong woman who would do anything for her child. The show has shown Gabe to be a controlling, toxic man.

What they have depicted in the show does not read like the characters and dynamic in the books.

Book Gabe is a violent, menacing drunk. He is so disgusting and vile that monsters avoid him. This is overwhelmingly apparent from the second Percy gets home in the book, even before he is aware of the physical abuse Sally has been facing. Percy has already been dealing with physical abuse from him, amongst other things (edit to be more specific: this is including verbal, emotional, & financial abuse). I've already spoke to it here, in-depth, so I'll try to keep it short but all of this has not been translated accurately to the screen. (Is this to say that a person must be overtly abusive to be abusive? No. But does this character on-screen feel like Smelly Gabe? No.) These things have shaped Percy (and Sally) in very specific ways. As others have mentioned: Percy cannot stand alcohol. He meets Dionysus and is reminded of his step-father. He gets to Tartarus and the air reminds him of Gabe.... The character on screen, while abusive, does not share this presence at all, and that makes a difference.

Edit: To emphasize once more, I am not saying that the show has not depicted a realistic portrayal of abuse. It has (verbal, emotional, & financial so far). It has also distinctly changed the tone and Gabe's presence from the book, to the extent that it no longer feels like the same character and that does have a rippling effect on the dynamics he shares with both Sally and Percy.

3. The Lack of Annabeth

Annabeth in the show is just like... really not as present as she is in the book so far, and I'm just kinda like, why lol?

Annabeth in the books is already way more involved in Percy's life. She was in the infirmary feeding Percy ambrosia after the attack (ulterior quest motives lol), she's the one who lead Percy around camp and re-explained godly parentage to him - and its a moment where she's very sincere with him, and even trying to help him! Instead these moments are given to Chiron and Luke, which I do get the merit of, but still, these were her moments!

Annabeth in the books had already surmised that the gods were fighting, something was stolen, and the something bad was going to happen, all before Percy had even been claimed. And she shared that with him! Again, the loss of foreshadowing and little bonding moments has me :(

I'm a little worried how they're going to deal with her crush on Luke because its pretty central to her character in the books! It helps Luke to manipulate her and also keeps her from admitting he's done something wrong. Also, it was very sweet and funny reading her get flustered - It drove home the point that she was just a kid with a crush that she didn't know how to handle. But in the show Luke spoke to her and I was expecting there to be some sort of reaction to it and there just... wasn't? (This is not something I'm laying at Leah's feet btw! Only the writers/directors!) We're only two episodes in tho so maybe we'll see it some more moving forward.

4. The Minotaur Battle

Again, I've already spoken about this in depth here but !!

The lack of Zeus's lightning strike, them all coming to a standstill and just chatting instead of running for their lives, Grover being awake and just sort of off to the side watching the fight, Sally being like "Promise Me Grover Swear it"... it all just doesn't ring right to me

I wanted more panic, more terror, more urgency. Higher stakes. I wanted Grover unconscious, I wanted to see Percy drag him into camp, and I wanted to see more of Percy's grief alongside his rage. Like the book did.

The pacing in the show here, and just overall, is weird

5. Other Stuff

Mrs. Dodds fight kind of fell flat too. It was honestly too sudden and Percy killing her in the show seemed even more accidental than in the book lol. Like, accidental impalement vs intentional swing of the sword.

They really had show Grover throw Percy to the wolves and not just gaslight him, but low-key have a part in getting him expelled? Not sure how I feel about it tbh.

More New York. I wish we had gotten the part of Percy taking the bus home with Grover included cause like? Him ditching Grover was funny, but it would have been the perfect opportunity to show Percy traveling through New York and establish it has his home. Shots of him looking at the city, walking the streets, interacting with people near his building.. yeah.

More Montauk too tbh. Like more shots of him and Sally on the beach rather than just the cabin.

Nectar and Ambrosia! Unless I missed it, which I might have, why have we still not gotten an onscreen depiction of it yet lmao.

[nana-au]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄...

 𝜗𝜚 Satoru Gojo Prince AU ♡ part four

 𝜗𝜚 Summary: satoru has an announcement to make to the royal court. you don't think you could've ever prepare yourself for what it could be. the two of you see each other after months of no contact and the result is bitter sweet. story summary based off of this drabble

𝜗𝜚 Warnings: forbidden love, unspoken feelings, heavy angst, intense emotions, suggestive flirting, heated make out, cussing, depression symptoms, misguided anger, jealousy.

 𝜗𝜚 wc: 4,323

𝜗𝜚 an: there is a surprise guest from the jjk cast being introduced.. heh. dw he is just for the story and holds no interest in reader.

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p5┊

“How do you like kitchen duty, my dear?” the Queen asks, the royal blue wallpaper of her study behind her head seems to shift like the ocean waves; rising and falling - dancing in the reflection of your pupils as your tea is poured for you. With a wave of her hand the Queen’s servant is dismissed and it’s just the two of you alone. The silence is unsettling as much as it is intoxicating. The kitchen is noisy - pots and pans clanging together, the repeated motion of knife hitting cutting board, and the bubbling sounds of a roiling boil. But then there is your room at night; the bed you climb into is decently soft and the covers keep you warm enough but you’re missing the noise of Satoru’s words. Before everything changed you would lay awake and replay every conversation with the Prince; your heart would pound remembering every brush of his hand or intense gaze he didn’t bother to hide. Instead now even your own thoughts have quieted, leaving your night void of any stimulation. 

“It’s been pleasant,” you respond, blowing on the hot tea you’ve brought to your lips. You don’t try very hard to sound convincing but if the Queen notices she doesn’t comment on it. 

“I’ve heard you have been getting pretty close to one of the men in the kitchen,” she wiggles her eyebrows, like you’re her girl friend and she’s genuinely interested in your potential love life. You’re not entirely sure where she got such information from; but it’s been clear to you for a while now. She has eyes and ears everywhere. 

“Forgive me, I’m not quite sure who you are referring to,” the tea is hot as you sip it, burning the taste buds you’ve barely been using these days. 

“Well, Nanami, of course,” she takes a moment to sip her own tea. “He’s handsome… quite burly too for working in a kitchen,” she’s smirking describing the man like it's the most entertaining gossip in the whole world. You guess it's not the worst thing she could potentially hear about you. All though, the worst had already been said. 

“He’s knowledgeable,” you tell her, stoic and devoid of any real emotion, “I enjoy learning what I can from him,” it’s a boring answer but your life is boring now. She frowns, almost a little disappointed that you won’t bite and indulge in ‘boy talk’ with her, but she continues on anyway. 

“That’s how your parents met, you know,” another long sip of her tea, “your father used to volunteer in the kitchens just to see your mother,” she’s obnoxiously giddy again and you can’t fight the sour taste of disgust. It feels more like she’s describing a silly little romance novel and not real people’s lives. It’s almost amusing knowing that as soon as your ‘silly little romance’ got too close to her son it was no longer exciting to her. You kept silent - having nothing worth commenting aloud as you waited for her to get to her point. She didn’t invite you here to gossip, your life had hardly been entertaining since 3 months ago when you were banished from Satoru’s presence. Her lips purse for a moment before she talks, “Well that’s not why I invited you here anyways,”

No shit. 

“I wanted to say thank you. I’m sure you’ve heard of our upcoming event in which Satoru will announce who he is courting,” you could have choked on air if you were not incredibly aware of yourself around the Queen. Instead you sucked in a quick breath. You had obviously been preparing for the event seeing as it was tomorrow and everyone in the kitchens scrambled around to get everything set for it - but you missed the part where it involved Satoru and his new potential partner. “I was incredibly worried for the future of our kingdom, and I appreciate your diligent work in securing that,” her words danced around the true meaning - but you weren’t a dunce. She was thanking you for hurting Satoru - and yourself in the process. A truly noble sacrifice indeed. You had to fight the desire to strangle yourself in front of her.  

“Of course,” is all you muster, not bothering to put on a brave face. 

“Remember the blonde Princess I talked about all those years ago?” she says, observing her pristine nails, “I knew Satoru would warm up to her if he tried,” your tea was gone by the end of her sentence and you lacked the stimulation now required for this conversation; your uneasiness eating away at your insides. 

“I’ve heard she’s lovely,” your throat is dry despite downing an entire cup of tea. 

“Oh more than lovely, if you could even imagine. I’ve never seen Satoru more at peace than when he’s listening to her playing piano. She’s quite the pianist!” 

𝜗𝜚

Satoru did indeed enjoy the times she played for him. The melody left no room for chatter. It was the only moment the two of them were together that he could close his eyes and rest; shutting down after hours of struggling to be present. He didn’t need to pretend to listen to how her day went or care about her childhood. He didn’t need to make up details about his day or share stories of his own youth that he struggled to edit you out of. He could just be. And that’s how Satoru preferred it. 

You would never know about it because ‘how could you?’ - but Satoru was a new man. Gone were the days of acting out or scoffing at his lessons. Gone were the days he preferred fencing to etiquette lessons. He now spent his time indoors because that’s where his bed was closest. His new favorite activity was painting. It was quiet and kept his mind occupied. He enjoyed painting with the new Princess the most - she would play while he would paint and as her hands created beautiful melodies Satoru’s created melancholy works of art

She peers a glance at his canvas over the piano, eyebrows furrowing as she notices the brooding blues, “You do realize this song is meant to elicit joy?” she inquires playfully, and Satoru apologizes. 

“Forgive me, I don’t have much experience with music theory,” his brush dips into the blue oil paint before dabbing it onto the course fabric. 

“Blue seems to be your favorite color,” she comments, her hands walking over each other as the keys come alive from her touch. 

Satoru nods, “I do enjoy reds too. Deep reds,” he murmurs. 

The color of his bleeding heart. 

𝜗𝜚

When the King and Queen announce a new ball, Satoru already understands the reason without being told. He had to fix his blunder - the one where he abandoned his duties and prioritized the pleasure your presence gave him. He hadn’t seen you since that day - but he was sure your face would bring him anything but pleasure nowadays. He was agreeing to the expectations of this new event without listening. It didn’t matter to him anyways. His life wasn’t his - this was a fact he could no longer be gullible about. 

That’s why he stood there in the center of the ballroom, fingers interlaced with the Princess as he smiled down at her like she meant something to him. Because his life wasn’t his and there were worse women in the world to be arranged to. The Princess really wasn’t all that bad. She was intelligent, respectful, charitable and incredibly humble. She knew there was more to life than her appearance all while being a sight for sore eyes. Satoru couldn’t have expected anyone more perfect for the role of his wife. With his heart now out of the picture - there was no better option than her. He could see that clearly now.

She nuzzled her head against his shoulder, hiding her blush as Satoru talked about the first day they met to an inquiring older man and that is when you finally see the two of them together. Surprisingly, you’re allowed out of your metaphorical cage - the King and Queen now fully entrusting you in the same room as Satoru after you successfully stomped out his light. You’re with the kitchen boy, Nanami, who was the Queen’s new show pony she liked to trot around; insisting he was there to describe the new hors d'oeuvre he created himself. Neither of you were entirely convinced the Queen thought that highly of the dish - rather than the idea of having such an esteemed cook now residing in her royal kitchen. Your jaw drops seeing the two of them next to each other. You had only seen paintings of the Princess, and even those did not prepare you for the intensity of her eyes and the silkiness of her hair. You were right all those years ago; next to Satoru wearing his family’s signature blue - she fit perfectly. 

And Satoru. Your Satoru. He looked so sorrowfully beautiful. His jaw was sharper and his eyes were darker but he was still Satoru and that fact alone made it impossible to look away. You had no right - but your watery eyes threatened to spill over watching the Prince hold hands with the Princess. A pitiful feeling fell over you once you realized you couldn’t read his expression. There had never been a day that you couldn’t skim his face like the pages of a book and pinpoint exactly what he was thinking - but now being in the same room with him after so long - you realized you were no longer privy to his thoughts like you used to be. Perhaps that ability was now reserved for the woman who held his hand. If it wasn’t so devastating you might have considered thanking the Queen for what she made you do. You had to have looked so silly beside him seeing the Princess in front of you now - appearing to be a piece of the same puzzle by his side. 

“Are you doing okay?” a deep voice prods your ear and you turn to see Nanami, standing by your side with a look of worry. The Queen wasn’t entirely wrong when she spoke of rumors that the two of you were close - you were in a lot of ways. Just not in the way she found most interesting. Nanami taught you a lot of skills in the kitchen. He showed you the best ways to cut vegetables and the importance of never looking away from milk boiling on a stove top. He told you stories of his travels in search of the best ingredients and his experience being raised on the country-side of a faraway nation whose people were dying of hunger. How his life as a child shaped him into who he was to this day: a seasoned cook who the highest of society paid a pretty penny to grace their kitchens. For some time you spared him the details of your life and he took it well - waiting for the moment you decided he was someone you could trust - and once you did it seemed to flow out of you and never stop. He knew all about your childhood with Satoru and how things became the way they are now. He didn’t scoff at you for daring to imagine yourself next to a Prince or gawk at the audacity it must take to delude yourself into believing your life could possibly be different than those before you. He just listened while he prepared a snack for the two of you. It was cathartic being around someone who carried as much baggage as you. The two of you were stronger than ever by each other’s side, and that is why you stood with him while he talked to the snobs he couldn’t stand and he stood with you while you watched the Prince make his love interest known to everyone. “Go take a moment for yourself, I’ll cover for you,” he offered and you shook your head.

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone with these assholes,” you say, earning a chuckle from the blond man next to you. You look up at him and all though he’s laughing his eyes don’t contain humor - more concerned for you while witnessing the same display you had to. He knew it couldn’t be easy.

He leaned in once more, “Well if you change your mind, I won’t be mad,” you smile at him, grateful that you weren’t entirely alone in your new reality. 

𝜗𝜚

Just like the two of you could see the royal couple they could see you too - if they knew what to look for. You caught the Prince’s eye while he took a sip of his champagne, using it as a moment to take in the scene around him until he spotted you. He didn’t know what to expect when he first considered the possibility of running into you again; you two inhabited the same estate and though it was big you had your whole lives to bump into each other. Originally he thought his anger would get the better of him once he finally laid eyes on you. Or he considered that given enough time had passed, looking into your eyes wouldn’t elicit any kind of emotion in him - completely indifferent to your role in his life, like all other servants. What he didn’t expect was for his heart to fail him, the once slow pace now jump started with adrenaline. His heart rate was wild and his pupils dilated. The bubbly drink that usually burned on the way down had effortlessly passed his throat and entered his stomach that grew weak with just one look at you. If he wasn’t careful the Princess beside him would take note of how he completely removed himself from their conversation - but careful he could not be. He wanted to curse his cheeks for warming up at the mere thought of breathing the same air as you… how could he be present? Satoru wouldn’t have even noticed the man standing next to you if not for the way his tall form towered over you, blocking you from the Prince’s view. That’s when Satoru began to grow just a little more aware of his surroundings - or more so your surroundings. While he repeated the words you said to him that day like it was a prayer he couldn’t help but retell before bed - lest he forget - he still fought the logical side of him begging him to accept your words as fact. But he couldn’t because he couldn’t accept your own interpretation of your feelings while you shook and sniffled in the stables. He believed you wanted nothing more to do with him - but he thought the pressure of fighting for your rightful place in his life was one you could no longer stomach. That was what caused him the pain he felt each passing moment. That you lost your fight because Satoru wasn’t worth it. But how could he believe you lost your fight when you had no one in your life pressuring you to move on like he did - yet there you stood seemingly cozy next to the tall man beside you. Perhaps the thought of you giving up on Satoru hurt his heart less and that was why he settled on that thought, instead of the earth-shattering possibility that you could have actually wanted nothing to do with him.

So why would you have kissed him?

𝜗𝜚

It was a quiet afternoon when the two of you decided to stroll through the garden’s after Satoru’s tea break. You often found it beneficial to have Satoru spend time outside inbetween his lessons - he would have a new found focus when given the chance to allow his mind to wander in the cool air that the spring time offered. His fingers would busy themselves with the petals of a flower and you would walk in silence beside him, listening to him ramble or letting him bask in the tranquility nature offered. 

That day was one of those times Satoru pondered silently and you let him, enjoying the unique flowers the Gojo’s had planted from all across the globe while you walked by his side. His face was scrunched in thought and his hands were busy with the stem of a lily, using his thumbs to pry the plant open to feel around its sticky insides. You two were deep in your walk, the garden trail extending surprisingly far on the Gojo’s lawn. The estate was now hidden by the yards of thick bushes that separated the trail from other parts of their extensive property. Satoru let out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, and you turned to look at him. 

He seemed anxious, the tips of his ears were deep red and his face was scrunched with worry. “Did you get a sunburn, Satoru?” you ask him, stopping him in his tracks to get a better look at his ears. They were hot to the touch as you inspected them but he was antsy rather than in pain from the grip you had on his cartilage.

“What do you think about kissing?” he asked, his cheeks turning as red as his ears. You giggle at him, not because it was random - no that was normal for Satoru - but the topic was a bit suspicious.

“Why do you ask?” you all but flirt - finding the confidence to since you had the upper hand.

“I don’t know… it just kept coming up in the book I’ve been reading,” he puts simply, trying to end the conversation he brought up. It was rare for Satoru to embarrass himself like such, and it was going to be hard for him to get you to ignore it. 

“You've been thinking a lot about kissing, haven't you?” you continue to tease, and he scratches the back of his neck. 

“No!” he scoffs, “Just.. nevermind,” the flower he was dissecting was discarded for a new one - his fingers plucking the petals before tearing into the ovule roughly. 

“I don’t know what I think about kissing, I’ve never kissed,” you answer his original question, engaging him back into the conversation. 

“Me neither,” he responded, defiling the poor flower a little less since you had his attention. ‘What do you think it’s like?” It’s your turn to blush and he definitely realizes his newfound control over the conversation - turning the tables on you as he begins to poke you about it. “It’s probably wet, right? Well if you used tongue,” you’re a blushing mess listening to your best friend describe something such as tongue-kissing and he’s smiling at you. His pearly white teeth sparkle under the sun while he continues his torture, “I’d imagine it’s warm too - and soft. Your lips look soft,” he comments and you could feel yourself struggling to hold back your bashful reaction. He knew how to work you up just like you knew how to work him up. Unfortunately he was a little bit better at it than you - or you were just more susceptible under his gaze. He comes in closer to you - you think just to tease you further and get your heart to racket against your chest and you’re not entirely wrong. It’s hard to focus when his broad shoulders contrast yours and when you feel the palm of his hand touch your sternum to feel the pounding of your heart - you can’t fathom how you’re still standing on your own. “Your heart rate is fast,” he comments, pretending he has no concept as to why that could be. 

“You flirt too much, Satoru,” you grumble at him, trying and failing to steady your heart beats with him so close. His breath smells sweet like the candies he eats and you can’t protect your nose from the pleasant musk that clings to his skin. 

“I’m not flirting. I’m just asking you a question,” he’s somehow closer and his hand won’t leave the spot between your breasts. 

“Yeah. Kissing is probably warm and wet and whatever else you said,” you mumble, desperate to crawl away from him while simultaneously scared of losing physical contact with him. 

“Maybe we should test our hypothesis,” he’s still smiling but his eyes don’t match; half lidded while he observes the twitch of your lips at his words. You gulp, unable to keep yourself from looking at his own pair of lips. You note that they look soft too, even when he bites at them upon noticing you’re doing the same as him. “It can just be a quick one,” he says, almost like he’s trying to convince you now like he’s already convinced himself years ago. Unbeknownst to him you needed very little convincing. 

“Just a quick one,” you all but breathe out, and the two of you are leaning in without realizing it until your lips meet. Your lips feel plump against his, soft like the pillow he lays his head on at night and he doesn’t want it to end. His hand meets your jaw, holding you still while his lips get used to the feeling of yours against them. Your hands come up to grip his shirt, bracing yourself while he slowly deepens it, testing the waters by slowly poking his tongue inside your mouth. You pull back, yelping at the unexpected intrusion. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks, voice sultry and deep and you nod at him, going back in for more. He starts slowly again, pecking your lips softly before working his way up to prodding his tongue cautiously against your sweet lips. You let him in and he all but groans, gripping your waist with his other hands so he can feel you pressed up against him. You both have no idea what you’re doing, teeth and tongues hesitantly clashing as you explore each other’s mouths. His pulse quickens when you let out a weak moan muffled by his mouth hot against yours. His hand on your jaw slowly works its way down your neck, across your collarbone, before hesitantly stopping at the start of your breast. You’re both clouded by the haze created between the two of you, unaware of your surroundings until you hear the scurry of an animal. You both pull away - scanning the area with no luck of finding the creature that caused it. You clear your throat and try your best to pull yourself together - but it’s hard when his eyes are so dark and his lips are so red and glossy from your spit.

“Let’s get back, Satoru. Your teacher will be expecting you soon,” and off you go, with Satoru trailing behind you.

𝜗𝜚

Satoru had never felt the foreign concept of competition in regards to you. It must be the reason he felt such vitriolic jealousy seeing you next to another man. He had no time to consider himself a fool. He wanted nothing more than to see his nose smashed in and your eyes on him again. 

But Satoru had to remind himself he was different. He was no longer the old Satoru whose emotions reigned over his logic. While the new Satoru was born through pain, it would do him good to act on the new things he learned; like patience. 

And patience he needed when later that night he found himself wandering into the kitchen for a glass of water - expecting the room to be empty and overcome with shock when he saw you there. You’re not alone either. The man from earlier guided your hand as you two fileted a fish. And what an odd sight it was - seeing your back pressed up another man’s chest as he carefully guided your knife against the belly of a salmon. Nanami notices the Prince first, respectfully removing his guiding hands and you look up, mouth agape at the sight of the unimpressed Prince in front of you. “Prince Gojo,” you both say, bowing respectfully at him. “How can we be of service?” Nanami asks, still stuck in his bow to Satoru. For the first time in your life you see Satoru ponder his next words and it is almost as shocking as being in the same room as him for the second time after going no-contact all those months ago. You aren’t used to him thinking so long about what to say; you’d always known him to speak his mind unfiltered. It made you incredibly uneasy.

“Are they aware you two occupy the kitchens after they’re meant to be closed,” he asks and you’re even more confused. Satoru? Becoming a stickler for rules? Your jaw hung open just for a moment when you remembered to pick it back up. 

“We’re very sorry, your royal highness. We will be sure to clean up and head off to bed,” Nanami is nothing short of respectful but Satoru still can’t hold back a scoff, turning his head to glance your way. His eyes miss their softness you’ve always been used to and you cower under his eyes, keeping your gaze on the ground until he finally turns around and leaves. 

𝜗𝜚

That night is the first night you let yourself think about Satoru again, now having many things to think about as you lay awake in your bed. 

He looked… almost disappointed in you? You try to fight the idea of him caring what you chose to do, chalking it up to your hopeless wanting that he was as stuck on you as you were stuck on him. But you saw him tonight with the Princess; getting close to her like he only ever did with you and you know you can’t let yourself get caught up in misguided optimism - Satoru had moved on and did exactly what you needed him to do… So why did that realization have to be so unbelievable to you?

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┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p5┊

(ty for all the support! comment to be added/removed)

[twopoppies]

I am genuinely angry.

Someone has died in a very unfortunate and tragic way. A human fucking being and yet the media is treating this like a circus.

Fans too.

They think that Harry, Zayn, Louis, and Niall have something to prove. They are foaming at the mouth to get "proof" that they care and are sad.

THEY OWE US NOTHING!

They want to exploit family members.

How would these photographers and "fans" like it if someone they loved died in this horrible way and the way they handled their grief was recorded for the world and being told they have to act in a certain way.

Grief isn't linear.

Grief doesn't look a certain way.

Everyone grieves differently.

Grief can be crying for a loss.

Grief can be putting on a strong face and facing out into the world, trying to live normally and dealing with everything your way in private.

Grief can be smiling and laughing as you remember your loved one.

You can mourn them and feel better for a while just for the world to come crashing down again when you remember the loss.

So called "fans" do NOT dictate how the boys grieve. They do not get to judge their words, actions, decisions.

They are their own people.

The people who want to meet/comfort/dictate what the boys say have some spectacular, fantastical vision of them. A made up version in their head. It's delusional and unhealthy.

The media are money and power hungry. They're invasive and disgusting.

Being someone associated with paparazzi is embarrassing and should be illegal.

If celebrities wanted us to know where they were, they would tell us.

Jesus Christ this whole thing has just made me sick. A grieving father can't go take care of whatever business he needs to take care of without gross Neanderthals trying to film him. I'm grateful for the fans holding things up and throwing their hands infront of the cameras. I admire Geoff for braving the crowd, thanking the fans and reading their letters and cards, and for being so strong and representing his family in the public eye. I can't imagine the heartache.

I hope and pray that wherever the boys and their families are, they are healthy and coping the best that they can. I hope they are all supporting each other and/or have a good support system. I pray they find the peace they need during this time. I wish all of them well.

My heart goes out to Liam's friends, family, his actual, respectful fans. My heart especially goes out to Cheryl as she navigates this very confusing time. Explaining death to a child is never easy and I can't imagine having to explain the loss of a parent to a 7 year old.

We should spread positivity for Bear to read when the time comes. Share what Liam meant to us. He was our comfort when there was little comfort he could find. He was our joy when he had none himself.

He wasn't a perfect man by any means but he tried his best for his fans, friends, family, his son, but most importantly himself.

Thank you, Liam. ♥ 🕯

❤️ and… I’m crying again.

[thedepressedjuggalette]

You never looked at the evidence if you really believe all they have is cropped screenshots. Your rhetoric about unrelated events in the past has nothing to do with your disgusting attitude towards people genuinely hurt and abused by that monster. It's clear all you've done is do exactly what Lily says to do and refuse to look at what her victims post. They are her VICTIMS. THE SAME VICTIMS YOU CALLED PREDATORS BECAUSE YOU DON'T WANT TO CLICK A FEW LINKS AND READ THROUGH POSTS THAT SPOONFEED YOU EVERYTHING SHE DOES.

Really love how you ignored the fact that I said and I quote "I've watched plenty of videos going into the abuse allegations" and I've even name dropped Ethel (aka Essence of Thought) as an example.

I really loved that. It's adorable. Learn to fucking read.

Also I am a victim of Pedophilia and fyi my abuser actually is a free man because the courts said there was a "lack of evidence". Thanks for reminding of that, asshole.

But let me give you a simple thought experiment that I KNOW you're not going to answer or are going to find a way to weasel your way out of answering:

Lily Orchard stated that her parents were extremely abusive, her sister even stated this in her own blogs and in her interview with Essence of Thought. Her sister's Tumblr Bio even has her bragging about how she was their parent's favorite -- not Lily.

So let me ask you, if Lily's sister was the golden child and Lily was the scapegoat... WHY DIDNT HER SISTER OPEN HER FUCKING MOUTH?

Lily even stated that IF she was such an abusive disgusting asshole her parents would've MURDERED HER. Point blank. PERIOD.

IF Lily's sister was such a favorite, such a golden child, their parents would've killed Lily a long ass time ago.

Now let's look at recent events.

It's been confirmed by Lily and KP herself that KP tried to get Lily and her sister into a call together....

IF Lily was SUCH AN ABUSIVE ASSHOLE...WHO THE FUCK THINKS ITS A GOOD IDEA TO PUT AN ABUSER AND THEIR VICTIM IN THE SAME CALL LET ALONE THE SAME ROOM WITH EACH OTHER NO MATTER WHO THE FUCK THE THIRD PARTY IS????

That shit is NEVER a good idea. But what makes this shit even more sus to me is the fact that KP got UPSET when LILY FUCKING ORCHARD was the one to say "No!" LEAVE THE CALL when this idea was brought up. KP stated this.

Do you want to know what this says to me. This says that Lily wasn't the abuser in this situation.

Lily was having a trauma response.

But Lily's sister was the one open to the idea of getting into a call with her supposed abuser... WHAT THE FUCK???

As a victim of pedophilia I can honestly say to you that if someone tried to get me in a call with my bio father - my abuser - I'd run so fucking far I'd change my name and move to the other side of the fucking planet if I had to.

My own mother tried to get me to interact with my cousins, aunts, and uncles from my bio-fathers side of the family and the answer has always been "No!" every single fucking time.

Why?

Because I don't want to be anywhere near the IDEA of my abuser let alone anywhere near him.

It makes me sick. So tell me why the fuck is it that Lily's supposed victim, Lily's sister adopts Lily's name, actively reached out to one of her friends and even reached out to her on Deviant Art to INTERACT with Lily?

Everything that the sister does doesn't scream "this a victim of an abuser."

It screams "THIS IS A POWER PLAY FROM AN ABUSER!"

So let's look at what this entire situation says to me.

Lily Orchard didn't want to be forced by KP to join a call with one of her supposed "victims" and is her sister who has been BRAGGING about being their parents golden child and could've gotten her murdered at any time said sister felt like it. Lily said "No!" and left the call.

Predators LOVE to have power over their victims. They LOVE having info on their victims and former victims. It's like crack to them. It always has been. So IF Lily was a predator... Why is it that she's been avoiding her sister? Her supposed former victim...

My abuser used the fact that I was just a naive 7 year old against me all the time. That my mom would never believe me. And he was damn near right until he broke up with my mom in another one of their heated arguments and after a month of him being gone I spilt my guts and my mom kept asking me "Are you sure?" until she finally faced reality and realized that he was in fact a predator.

Can't wait to see how you'll ignore all of this shit and all of these questions in the next ask which I'm 99% sure is going to be you twisting yourself into knots to not answer them and bitch about whatever perceived slite you find in this.

Also before I forget I'm mature enough to see that Lily was obviously annoyed and saw plenty of people whining about her about anime and just took it out in that ask and thus I didn't take it personally. I don't have to take every insult someone gives me personally.

I didn't call her supposed victims predators. You just did though LOL. Way to out yourself there bud.

What I've been doing is pointing out that the shit being thrown at Lily is the EXACT same things that have been thrown and accused at LGBTQIA+ people for years, especially in the current Political Climate. Marjorie Taylor Green and JK Rowling have been throwing pedophilia and grooming allegations at the Trans Community for YEARS.

And what makes this shit all the more suspicious to me is that A LOT of Lily's haters dead name her and misgender her so often it's expected of them and when Lily's sister first came on scene, and this was pointed out by Essence of Thought herself, she misgendered and deadnamed Lily until she realized that Ethel was going to continue to correct her so she had to use Lily's name and gender.

It's no secret that the majority of Lily's haters are transphobes so it's not hard to expect that they'd use the very talking points transphobes have been throwing at the trans community for YEARS.

[thegradus2]

Hc after his mom died and before he started his trash act everything already tasted awful to og cale he just started intentionally kicking up a fuss abt it for his brat act

Because the mental health awareness is FUCKED in thee olden days and especially an 8 year old wouldnt know wtf is going on so if he were to hypothetically be rlly fucking depressed on the inside and he completely lost his appetite and everything just suddenly tasted bland or disgusting og cale hypothetically wouldnt know wtf is going on either

8 year old cale thinking “nothing tastes right, did the kitchen decide to spend less time on my meals now father is leaving me alone all the time?” And just accepting it until he has to use it as a strategy to become less likeable

I like to hc his trash act as being 80% made up and 20% letting himself act out bc hes genuinely upset tho he doesnt really know why he feels the way he does so this clicks into that hc really well

[lazypanartist]

HELLO i fucking LOVE ur stobotnik and their kid series!!! its what initially got me to watching the movies and into the sonic franchise as a whole!!! can i request a stobotnik and their kid whos sort of like maria.... like they genuinely love the world and humanity despite (ahem) everything Ivo says. Maybe add in a sprinkle of shadow who sees reader and is taken aback by how similar they are to maria, and now stone + ivo has to deal with their kid having a new guard dog/brother HDSHSDH love ur writing, hope u have a good day!!

AHHH I'M SO GLAD I COULD HELP YOU GET INTO THE SERIES!! Super touched 💙💙💙

*Frantically googling Shadow's personality + Maria Robotnik*

*Having a Crisis™ because WOW OKAY*

Anyways! I've been working on this since the request rolled in, and am 100% invested. Willing to take related requests ^-^

Stobotnik + Sweetheart! Child, + Guard Dog Bestie! Shadow

Note: this is long. Like, LONG long

Your fathers have always loved you, if a tad.. oddly.

Papa Ivo doesn't understand your interest with the rest of humanity.

"What if one of those disgusting cretins gets my baby sick? What if someone actually wanted to hurt you?"

"No, it's far safer for you if you stay by his or Papa Stone's side. Or in the lab. The lab is VERY safe, you know. Well idiot proofed"

Not that he's calling his baby an idiot, of course -

Baba Aban, however, seems to understand you.

Of course he respects Papa's wishes, keeps you close when you do go out, but he tries to sate your interest in humanity best he can.

Always open to questions, and will try to answer everything as age-appropriately as possible.

"What does Papa do all day?"

"He builds things for the government."

"Why?"

"Because it pays well enough to raise you and keeps him busy."

"Why doesn't Papa like other people?"

He.. doesn't have an answer for that one. Not really.

"Just because" sounds too shallow, and "Because people can be horrible" is almost worse.

"To keep you safe."

It's not a lie, but it's not the truth, and the way you huff lets him know you're onto him.

Lets Ivo know before you two are finished with errands, in case you bombard the older man with questions next

They both try and keep you entertained in their own ways

Papa Ivo tries to keep you interested in his machines, how they can be used to better your life

Baba Aban takes you out for errands and helps teach you in the kitchen

Life is as balanced as it can be, considering your solitude growing up

Both dads help you set up a little greenhouse in the traveling lab

"For self sufficiency!" - Papa Ivo

"To give them a new hobby." - Baba Aban

"To keep me busy." - Baby You™

You know what's up

SO since we don't yet know how Shadow calmed tf down in the movie, bare with me here.

After the events of Movie 2 and then the unearthing of Project Shadow, you and your dads are living in the Crabmeat base deep in the Pacific

You and Baba Aban still surface occasionally for groceries and supplies, while Papa Ivo throws himself into his work to distract himself from his latest defeat.

During one surface visit, looking around the Seattle streets while on the back of Baba Aban's motorcycle, you see a strangely familiar figure on a similar vehicle.

You tug on your das's sleeve before gearuring toward the hedgehog

"Baba.. that's not Sonic, is it?"

He looks, does a double take

"Uh.. no."

He's stopping near the same lot the two of you are, and Baba instructs you to message Papa

"Found another alien hedgehog, will update"

He seems wary when the two of you approach, glancing between you as Aban steps closer, an arm in front of your chest to keep you back behind him

"Who are you?"

The hedgehog glares, and you slink just a bit closer to see him

"I am the ultimate life form."

"Decided by who?"

"That's none of your concern."

The two are almost circling one another now, Baba keeping you behind him, even if just barely

"It's my concern if you're here to.. to destroy humanity, or whatever."

You eye him from behind your dad, but he just huffs a laugh

"Destroy? I was created to preserve your human lives."

Your eyes widen again, catching his own before he glanced back towards your Baba

"Is that a problem?"

You tug at Aban's sleeve again, and he slows his movement, letting you peek out more from behind him

"No.. I don't suppose it is."

You finally slip out from behind him, smiling, and Shadow is hit, mentally, with the image of Maria, smile - the same energy as your own

A certain kind of sad loneliness, with an undertone of care

He doesn't know why he thinks of it that way

All he knows is that it feels like home again

The two of you see each other a few times after that, while out on errands with Baba

Papa wants to meet him - of course - but doesn't want another Knuckles situation

(He's very glad that the echidna didn't try and go after you for revenge - after the emerald was taken away, he wasn't sure he could have saved you)

So he lets you - and Stone - approach him on the surface

Not that you know explicitly that you're helping.

Neither of your dad's know about Maria - at least not explicitly - and Shadow still hasn't voiced why he's so attached to you

He finds himself following you whenever he sees you on earth

Of course you're with Baba every time, kept at arms length from Shadow, but he keeps coming back

Papa allows it because he hasn't made any threats

Baba allows it because he seems genuinely friendly

And doesn't seem to recognize him

Finally - FINALLY - Papa asks Baba to help bring him to the base

Respectfully, if possible. He wants to keep the peace, even if it's just for your sake

You get to be the lucky one to invite Shadow to the base

You smile when you ask if he'd like to come, and all he can see is Maria inviting him to see a new breakthrough from her grandfather

He says yes

Immediately

Your smile gets wider

"This is the first time I've invited a friend home!"

His poor, walled-off heart cracks just a little, and he gives Stone a Look™

Baba just glanced away before offering him a ride in a (rented) car

The two of you sit in the back, just talking to each other, while Stone contemplated how he got to driving one of the aliens.

To his home.

With his child in the backseat next to said alien.

As long as you're happy, and Ivo's happy, then he's sure he'll be fine

Shadow is still vague with answers around his past - every time you try and engage him about family, friends, childhood, home - he thinks of Maria

He still tries to answer you - he grew up in space, with his best friend and her grandfather.

She was.. sick. Very sick. And she died.

Conveniently leaving GUN out of the convo.

He sees the sadness you have for him - the same Maria held when she told him to go - and decides that he'll make space for himself in your life

If you let him.

ONLY if you let him.

The three of you make it back to crabmeat safely, and both of your dads hover, but let you interact how you want

Shadow sees a lot of Gerald in your Papa, but won't say anything.

He can't

Not yet, at least

He ends up staying the night, nested on your floor next to your own little fort, facing the door even in his sleep

Ivo tolerates it, if barely

He brought the hedgehog here to study, not to befriend his baby

"What if he has.. space rabies?!"

Stone just rolls his eyes as he shuts your door most the way, alarm systems all in place for the night

"This is the first time they've had a friend over, Ivo. We'll know if something goes wrong - just let them have this."

"This" turned into "a live-in best friend" rather quickly, to both parents' surprise (and your absolute delight)

Eventually, he caves.

He starts answering questions truthfully, the pain still rather fresh in his mind

He tells you about Maria, about GUN, about his purpose and pain

And you're there to comfort him

He's not graphic, and you don't push, and he appreciates it more than he'll voice, even to you

He figures that as long as you're willing to be there and listen, he'll be there to keep you safe company

Both dads are.. annoyed

Ivo thinks this new hedgehog is overbearing - always at your shoulder, keeping you company when he's supposed to be, never seeming to let you out of his sight

Stone thinks he's up to something, the way he lingers between streets when you're out, watching from the shadows (ha)

In reality, he's just trying to keep you safe

Your dads seem to figure that out when one of Ivo's ridiculous predictions comes true - you wander just a bit too far from Baba to look at some UV lights for your plants on Crabmeat, and someone grabs your arm as they walk past, jostling you enough that you yelp

Shadow is there in half a second, sending the aggressor to the floor before tugging on your hand, coaxing you down so he can look at the bruise forming on your bicep

Baba Aban is there a second later, lowering himself and helping Shadow turn your arm before helping you back up

"We should leave."

The three of you are silent until halfway back to the base, when Baba tilts the rearview to look at Shadow while he's druving

"Shadow.."

"What?"

He always glares when he talks to anyone besides you. Typically toward the floor or their chests, but right now he's looking your Baba in the eyes through the mirror, watching your father's gaze soften

*Thank you."

And thank YOU anonymous requester for all of this!

The requests for Sonic Movieverse, and this particular headcanon set, are wide open! Please send me reqs! I'm fixating like a mofo right now!!

[amyispxnk]

And if you were my little girl

Summary - your dad sucks and you finally turn to Joel for help (summaries are my specialty can you tell)

A/N: SO my dad’s being a little bitchy and making me genuinely want to unalive a little bit, I remembered this song existed, Joel is the father we all wish we had, and here we are. Also I’ve (fortunately) never had to deal with an alcoholic so I’m sorry if it’s not written very well?

Pairing: platonic/father figure!Joel Miller x f!reader (can probably be read as gn tho?)

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: paternal issues (i refuse to say daddy sorry), alcohol mention, language, angst, comfort, a lot of tears, father Joel, implications of using certain methods to get things you want, verbal/physical abuse, blood

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

Part 2 here

You reckoned you had stopped really taking the words in that he tried to threaten you with a long time ago, letting the curses and attempts to break you apart in through one ear and straight out the other. That way you wouldn’t be able to linger on them for too long; it was better that way.

“Where’s the fuckin’ drinks?” Your dad yelled, stumbling around the kitchen and throwing open the shelves in his search, met with nothing but dust. You skated around him as best you could but after he had almost torn apart the wood trying to find the alcohol, he turned to you.

Red in the face, sweating furiously with a look that could definitely kill you. Hands balled at his sides as he took a step towards you.

“D’you hide it again?” He said menacingly, trying to instil as much fear as he could into you, desperate for the liquid relief.

This time, you hadn’t hidden it. You knew better than to try and help him anymore, he couldn’t be fixed and you had to just accept it. When you were younger, when you were more stupid, more hopeful, you had tried hiding it or disposing of it in secret to try and discourage his alcoholism - only to be met with a split lip and hundreds of salty tears spilling from your eyes, only to be ignored and discarded and yelled at and told you were useless before being sent out to go get more. Sometimes without money, him saying that you’d just have to find another way to get it.

You were so disgusted with the prospect of what he was surely insinuating, but thinking about what he might do if you came back empty-handed was somehow scarier to you at the time.

“Fucking answer me!” He snarled, pulling you up by your collar and glaring at you.

“I didn’t hide it- there’s none left, and there’s no way to get any right now. If you just calm-” You began, trying to keep your voice steady and your face void of too much emotion. You weren’t going to let him do anything. He didn’t scare you anymore.

“Well you best fuckin’ find some, you bitch!” He shoved you towards the door, knocking you onto the hard wooden floor in the process and watching you cry out in pain without so much as batting an eye, too fucking stubborn to even feel any remorse since he was always fucking right about everything like he was now.

“Don’t think about coming back here unless you find me it.” And with that, he slammed the door in your face, leaving you outside the apartment door in the hallway.

You let out a shaky exhale, hands raising and covering your face as you furiously wiped away any tears that threatened to spill. Your hands balled up in your face as you hit your head over and over. You had to think of something. No matter how much of a poker face you put on in front of him, you were still terrified deep down, that feeling would never go away no matter how long you’d been putting up with it for.

You ran through all of your usual options, but you genuinely couldn’t think of one that would work today. It was nearly impossible to get your hands on alcohol in the apocalypse with ration cards, without them you had to resort to other means and you couldn’t bring yourself to do that right now.

Just when you thought that all hope was lost, the familiar and far-too-comforting Southern drawl of Joel Miller sounded from across the hallway.

“Y’alright sweetheart?” He asked cautiously. He had heard some banging coming from your apartment and had opened the door to find you standing there, tugging at your hair in frustration and looking like you were about to explode.

You turned to face him, opening your mouth to speak but not really knowing what to say.

How many times had this happened? How many times had your own father terrorised you for any minor inconvenience and blamed you for everything, made you feel stupid and worthless of any attention or love? And how many times had Joel still given you that attention, that love, or whatever it was. Maybe it was love, maybe he was just being nice to you, but you told yourself that’s what love was since you knew no better. Growing up in this world was cruel enough, but without anyone who truly loved you and liked to make sure you knew that every day, nobody to protect you from the monsters - infected and human - that inhibited it, that felt like the worst fate you could suffer.

So were you alright? No. No, of course you weren’t. But you’d say you were just like you had every time, because you didn’t want to bother people with your ‘issues’. As well as numbing yourself from feeling any intense fear or sadness as a result of your father’s endless torment, you also found it incredibly difficult to take pity on yourself. You always felt like your issues were never that real, that your father had a hard life and maybe you should just let him take it out on you.

“I’m..” you began, mustering up a pathetic excuse for a smile as you glanced from his face to the ground in front of your feet, “I’m fine, thank you.”

You knew the exact expression which would be on his face without even needing to look up, having seen it too many times. That one where he looks worried, his brows furrowed as he tries to pick you apart and figure out what the hell was actually going on, slightly angry too as this kept on happening and you still refused to tell him anything. Did you not trust him? Did he do something wrong? He knew he was threatening to people, that’s what he was known for in the QZ. But he had never done anything to you, he’d always tried helping you but you never talked or anything at all with him.

“Do you um- do you have any beer? Any alcohol would be fine really, I just need it right now. I can pay you but I don’t have any ration cards so it would have to be later on unless you could think of anything…” You trailed off at the end, not wanting to say it and give him the option in case he hadn’t thought of it yet, praying he wouldn’t want that.

“Yeah, I got some.” He murmured, before blinking a few times and opening the door to his apartment again, cogs turning in his brain as he still tried to figure out what happened.

“Come in, don’t need ya standin’ there like a lemon.” He said when you stayed fixed to the ground beneath you instead of following him inside like he had very clearly offered when he left the door open after walking in himself.

“Right.” You nodded as you entered his apartment, closing the door gently behind you and watching him as he went over to his cabinets and reached for some whiskey.

You took in his living space. It was clean, organised. The small entryway led straight into the living room which was linked to the kitchen space, a dusty couch in the centre of the room and a coffee table in front of it. A few books were on the table, along with some slightly cracked glasses. You never took Joel to be much of a reader, clearly you were wrong.

There were 2 more doors which were closed and you could only assume that they were the bathroom and his bedroom.

“Hope this ‘s okay.” He said as he appeared in front of you, bottle of whiskey in hand.

“You’re not drinkin’ this all by yourself, are ya?” A smirk appeared on his face as he attempted the light teasing with you, maybe that would cheer you up a bit.

Your expression bore a smile which faltered and faded quickly. If only he knew.

“No, no. It’s for my dad. He ran out so.. Yeah. How do you want me to pay?” You said quietly. Whatever it took, you supposed.

He noticed the dejected look on your face as you looked up at him. So tired. That’s what came to mind whenever he looked at you. Barely an adult and already looking like you were at death’s door whenever he saw you. Exhaustion clouded all of your features and your mind when you trudged up the stairs, down the corridor and up to your apartment door, entering as your shoulders somehow slumped even more.

“Y’ don’t needa pay, sweetheart.” He told you, and you blinked a few times in confusion.

“Really?” There was no way. Alcohol was so hard to come by, and here he was giving you a bottle for free?

“Yeah.” He nodded, making sure you had a good hold on the bottle before letting go of it and pursing his lips as he thought deeply yet again.

“‘F you ever need to talk or anythin’, I’m always here for ya, okay?” He said before you could leave, making you stop with your back towards him as you stood at the door.

“Thank you, Joel.” You whispered before leaving and returning to your own apartment.

After that, you found yourself on Joel’s doorstep a few more times - you didn’t go every time you needed something, not wanting him to think you were taking advantage of his kindness, so sometimes you were just genuinely hanging out with him.

He had some little books and crosswords, stories to tell you, and one time he’d even come across a VHS tape with a movie from the dawn of time on it which the two of you had watched one evening.

You stayed too late and definitely paid the price for it, but it was worth it, you told yourself as you cleaned the blood from your arms and hissed at the sting of a newly-formed bruise.

Then, one evening, it finally fell apart. He threw you out of the house, quite literally, and you were already knocking on Joel’s door before you could realise what you were doing.

He opened the door and you slammed yourself into him, causing him to let out a little cough as he stumbled back, arms tentatively wrapping around you.

“Woah, woah, y’alright sweetheart?” He asked, taken aback by your sudden action.

“Joel, I- I'm sorry.” You choked out, tightening your hold on him and fisting his shirt.

He ushered you gently into his apartment, closing the door behind you and sitting you down on the couch.

“What's goin’ on? What happened?” He said, watching as you trembled, lip quivering as you tried to formulate a sentence without bursting into tears.

You ultimately failed at that. Only managing the words my dad before a pained sob wracked through your entire body and you were crying into your palms.

Joel rushed to your side, pulling you into him and rubbing his hands up and down your back soothingly.

“‘s okay. You can talk to me, tell me what's goin’ on honey.” He told you, pulling back slowly from you to try and make you look at him, frown deepening on his face when he saw how upset you were.

“He- he- kicked me out, ‘cause I didn't- I lost the cards and- he got too angry at me so then- I was mad at him back and he hurt me so I said I didn't want to stay and he-” You stuttered, trying to actually remember what had happened in the first place then explain it as best you could.

His jaw clenched with anger. How could someone do that to their own child? Your father had clearly put you through so much emotionally and physically, and you had done nothing wrong. You were a good kid, and you deserved better than that. He could be better for you.

Your shaky breathing filled the room as he came back to his senses, willing his fury to stop clouding his head so he could focus on what was more important right now - you. He'd deal with him later.

His thumb reached up and wiped a stray tear from your face before he pulled you close again, hugging you tight.

“You stay here, okay? ‘m so sorry sweetheart. I won't let anythin’ bad happen to ya. Y’just gotta let me help you.” He said as you nodded into his shirt, a weak mm-hm muffled by the fabric before he slowly rose from the couch and walked into his kitchen.

He came back with a glass of water, offering it to you. “Drink this.” Your cautious fingers closed around it and brought it to your lips.

“‘s gonna be okay. You can stay here, if you want?” You had come to him, obviously hoping he'd ask you that, but hearing him actually say it gave you relief like nothing else could.

“Y-yes, please.” You said, putting the glass back down on the coffee table as he nodded, helping you up and taking you to his room.

“I'll stay out there on the couch for a bit, okay? ‘til we can sort somethin’ a little more proper out for ya.” He told you, going to find you some clothes that weren't almost completely torn up.

When he returned, he saw you blankly staring at the floor, hands fingering the same strand of hair mindlessly and not even realising him walking up to you.

He sighed, handing you the clothes and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“It'll be okay sweetheart. Nothin’ bads gonna happen anymore, he can't hurt you here.” He assured you, hugging you one more time before he left, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and requests are open 💞

[balanceoflightanddark]

As requested by @cobra-diamond. I hope this makes you happy.

If you know me, then you probably know that I have a habit of talking about problematic characters like Azula. You know, the ones who have to have an inordinate amount of hatred attached to them that boggles the mind. It's just Azula is one of the most notorious of this...I guess you can say club.

The thing is...she's not the only one out there.

Spoilers for Fire Emblem: Three Houses below.

This is Edelgard von Hresvelg. Crown Princess to the Adrestrian Empire. Leader of the Black Eagles House in Garreg Mach. And quite possibly the most controversial character in the entire Fire Emblem franchise. She's been called a lot of things over the years. A fascist. A tyrant. The old "worse than Hitler" comparison. Needless to say, she's had it rough.

And to be fair, there is a reason for that. Traditionally, she's the "villain" of the story. She's the face of the enemy faction, the one you encounter the most if you don't side with her, and she ends up the final boss on the most traditional of the Fire Emblem routes. Her design is crimson red with devil horns, and she turns into a literal monster at the end of one of her routes. So by all accounts, she's the bad guy.

Except...she isn't. Not really. Let's back up a bit.

Three Houses takes place on the continent of Fodlan, which is broken up into three distinctive factions. We have the Adrestrian Empire that Edelgard is from who used to rule all of Fodlan. We have the Leicester Alliance which is ruled by a class of nobles who are only loosely united. And then we have Faerghus, a proud people with armies of knights and ruled by a king. Above them all are the Knights of Seiros who basically run things in Fodlan, keeping stability and maintaining the balance of power between all three factions from their monastery of Garreg Mach. Here, noble children from all across the continent are enrolled to learn combat and how to be a faithful servant of the Church and its Archbishop, Rhea.

Fodlan also has a strict caste system dictated by Crests. Think of them as bloodlines that grant users special abilities and the power to wield divine weapons. Those who inherit Crests are practically seen as chosen by the Goddess and enforce her will on the earth and are on top. Everyone else essentially gets trampled on, with families doing pretty underhanded things and constantly squabbling in order to make sure their family has Crests.

Enter a mysterious faction lead by their enigmatic leader, the Flame Emperor. For most of the game's first half, they serve as the ultimate bad guy. They're the face of Those Who Slither In The Dark, (TWSITD), they're the ones who hired the mercenaries who attempted to kill the student heads at the beginning of the game, and their identity is one of the driving questions at the start.

Turns out...the Flame Emperor is actually Edelgard.

Before now, Edelgard had been one of the class leaders and one of your students should you choose to teach the Black Eagles. She's...not exactly the most open person, but she's also dutiful and dedicated to succeeding her elderly father, the Emperor of Adrestria. So it comes off as a shock to many that she's revealed to effectively be the bad guy for the first half of the game. An indeed, there are people in-universe who genuinely want her head and blame her for absolutely everything that TWSITD pulled.

The thing is though...Edelgard's position within TWSITD is less of leadership and more of a weapon. You remember those Crests I mentioned earlier? Well it turns out, Edelgard actually possesses TWO which is unnatural in Fodlan. The reason for that is...well, it was the result of torturous experiments that left her in a disgusting prison and was forced to watch the rest of her siblings die. Leaving her the sole survivor. And going back to my Azula comparison, she too was conditioned to effectively serve TWSITD to bring down the Church and tear Fodlan apart.

AKA: she was set up in-universe to be the villain.

The thing is though at the end of the day...she ultimately isn't.

Her trauma isn't brushed away. It's treated with as much respect as it deserves. And she's not treated as some monster either since all of her traits established before the reveal are still present after the timeskip where the war starts if you decide to defend her from being executed by Archbishop Rhea. Mainly, she cares a lot about her allies and forces. Even giving them an out of what is certain to be a bloody path she embarks on.

And it IS a bloody path. Edelgard's ultimate goal is to dismantle the Church which seems villainous...until you realize that the Church was responsible for the oppressive Crest system that resulted in her experimentation and a ton of backstabbing and suffering in Fodlan. As bad as TWSITD are, they wouldn't have gotten as far if the Knights of Seiros practically didn't create every opportunity for them to cause chaos and destruction. She doesn't even like TWSITD too much, and only allies with them cause they're the lesser evil in the grand scheme of things, and she needs their support to stand a chance against the dominant Church. And she already HAS plans to bring them down the moment the war is over. That seen of her in the of the routes where she turns into a monster? That's her choosing to become a monster when her back is to the wall and her last ditch effort to secure a better future for Fodlan.

What's more, she actually shows more clemency and mercy to her enemies than her rivals. Imperial troops are said to be more accommodating to citizens and captured soldiers than Faerghus who have been known to torture their captives. Edelgard is willing to show mercy and is perfectly willing to let Rhea stand down, showing the same mercy that her enemies don't since Rhea was willing to execute heretics over their rebellious attitudes (practically justifying the war). And the less said about Dimitri, the King of Faerghus, the better...

So while Edelgard is coded as a villain...she doesn't really act too villainous. She shows regret over her actions. She isn't as brutal as a lot of people make her out to be. Hell, her ending where she wins the war is arguably the best for Fodlan since the oppressive Crest system is dismantled with the only resistance coming from nobles who their claims to power are challenged. Not to mention she IS willing to let territories like Brigid peacefully secede and is going to step down from her position as Emperor once things are stabilized and she finds a successor.

Sadly like Azula, because she's seen as the villain in-universe a LOT of people think she's some power-hungry monster. Even when a closer examination of her actions and character show that it is NOT the case. Which...honestly makes her special to me and a lot of people. She's the kind of character who would be demonized elsewhere, but is given a chance to tell her side of the story and NOT be the monster everyone makes her out to be. And ultimately if you play your cards right, she does get that happy ending denied to so many characters like her.

It makes it all the sweeter that after so many years of being conditioned to be the villain, presenting herself as the villain, Edelgard gets recognized as the hero and person she actually is.

[sunonyoreface]

He Knows - Simon "Ghost" Riley Pt. 21

Word count: 5589

Warnings: minors dni, angst, military setting, explicit language, use of weapons, mentions of injuries and death.

My feelings towards Price are continuously conflicted. On one hand, he’s been very generous throughout my stay with 141. He seems to trust my word at face value and has offered me protection with Soap and Ghost. He also seemed genuinely impressed with my work as a translator, and then again with my performance on the phone with my father.

On the other hand, he is the entire reason I’m here. Sure, Ghost arranged everything, but Price is the man behind every step 141 takes. Nothing is done without his permission. My existence is simply a form of currency to him. My value relies on how much my father is willing to sacrifice for me. Markets are rarely stable in times of war. One wrong move, and the stock will tank faster than in 1929. I feel the dip approaching like a rollercoaster at the top of a hill. Imminent. 

As he stands in front of me, Price has a welcoming presence, despite all of the atrocities he’s committed. Despite everything he has put me through to gain the upper hand on my father. Despite everything he is going to put me through.

His voice is soft as he speaks. We’re alone in my quarters. He leans against the dresser as I sit in bed with my legs pulled to my chest.

“We identified another rat,” a double agent. Another one of their supposedly well-vetted men who turned out to be a terrorist in disguise. His shoulders remain rigid and his arms cross over his chest. “He was in our transportation unit,” Price continues.

I search my mind for some of the faces I’ve come to recognize. There are too many to remember. I don’t know if I’ve even talked to any of the task force members in that unit. Everyone I know is an extension of Soap’s circle.

“What happened to him?” I ask.

“Nothing yet,” he answers. “We can’t risk tipping off the ultranationalists or the exchange being called off,” his thick English accent reminds me of a misty, fall day spent at a café. It’s cold, but there’s also something comforting about it - about him.

It makes sense how the ultranationalists always knew where we were. The mole could’ve tapped the vehicle GPS or tipped them off about which bases we were at. All of those attacks couldn’t have succeeded without him.

“Are there more of them?”

“Rats don’t lie alone,” there’s an underlying tone of disgust in his otherwise reserved voice. His message is loud and clear and more unnerving than ever. The men in 141 are even less trustworthy than I originally thought. “But I didn’t stop to visit about pest control.”

The air feels colder as the words leave his lips. My breathing pauses and the false ease of our conversation drops away like a theatre curtain.

“It’s happening, isn’t it?”

“Affirmative,” he confirms.

“When?” my soft voice is urgent.

“In fifteen minutes someone will drop off your gear. In forty-five you’ll get on the van. And in one hour we depart,” My chest clenches and I feel a nervous ball form in my stomach. I can’t believe how fast this is all happening. I’m not ready. I don’t have a plan to save myself if this all goes south. He doesn’t care if I live. Neither does my father. He might say he does, but he doesn’t, not really. I’m just an excuse for them to meet head to head. Just an excuse for them to pick a fight with one another. They don’t care what happens to me. Only I do.  Price watches my reaction closely. I can tell he half-heartedly expects a breakdown.

“Will Soap come get me?”

“Soap’s team left an hour ago,” they’re gone already? Why’d they leave so early? Why aren’t they all leaving together? I know the answer I’ll get if I ask these questions. I turn my attention back to the exchange.

“What’ll happen when we get there?” Price shifts his weight. He’s a busy man. He doesn’t have additional time to stand here and let me quiz him.

“We’re meeting at an old landing strip in the forest just past the Russian boarder. The exchange will happen in the clearing. Only a few of us will be there for the handoff: Ghost, myself, and a couple other sergeants.  The rest will be waiting in the surrounding woods on our side. But they won’t be alone. The ultranationalists will have men waiting on their side of the woods. In the event that this all goes South, you’re going to retreat to the defilade,” he takes a decisive step away from the dresser with his feet pointed towards the door. I don’t have much time to get any other information from him.

 “Wait what’s a defilade?” the word stumbles across my lips.

“The men in the trees,” Price pauses. Like always he has the army green hat on his head and is dressed in partial camoflauge. “y/n, I’m not saying it’ll turn into a dogfight, but your father doesn’t exactly have the best track record. Be prepared for that possibility.”

I heed his warning closer than anything else he’s said all morning. Why is Price going through with this if he thinks its going to go to shit?

“I’ll see you soon enough,” There’s a knowing look to his face. Maybe it’s the way his eyes slightly squint or the ghost of a smile that tugs at his lips. It ambiguous. Comforting yet concerning.

Sure enough, within fifteen minutes, a member of the task force drops off a bullet proof vest and new clothes to change into. She is tall and wears a uniform almost identical to the one passed onto me.

“Once you’re dressed, I’ll escort you to transportation,” her voice is low and confident. There’s something reassuring about her presense and I’m just glad it isn’t Bennet or one of his friends taking me there.

After hastily throwing on the tactical gear and bulletproof vest, there’s still a piece of fabric sitting on my bed. When I pick it up I recognize the familiar black, fabric bag from several weeks ago. They’re blindfolding me again. Its eerily soft between my clenched fingers. I can’t fucking believe they’re doing this to me again. After everything, why now?

If Ghost was here, would he make me wear it too? Or is this all Price’s doing?

Her firm hand rests on my upper arm as she leads me throughout the compound. Soon the smell of gas filters through the mask and I hear the rumble of multiple engines. People are talking. Orders are barked from one person to the next. Gear is being loaded onto vehicles. Metal clinks and clashes against each other. Everything is in motion.

And then I hear his voice.

Ghost’s distinct tone cuts clearly through the air. It’s powerful and travels with a force that is impossible to ignore. I can pinpoint the exact moment he notices me. The orders he’s giving briefly falter. Then he’s approaching the sergeant and informing her he’s got it from here.

His strong hand replaces her’s. I imagine the warmth of Ghost’s hand through his glove and my sleeve. Ghost’s chest brushes against my shoulder as he leans down to speak. I blindly await his words, only imagining what we look like to the rest of the soldiers. Will they even notice or are they too preoccupied right now?

“You’re riding with me. Don’t say anything. The blindfold will come off once we arrive,”

“Where is th-“

“Don’t. Speak.” Ghost lowly cuts me off.

The van reminds me of the one before. Similarily, I think we’re strapped in against the walls of the vehicle. But I can’t tell for sure.

Ghost quickly buckles me in. His fingers are fast, yet cautious. He takes care not to pinch my skin between the clasps. For a second it almost feels like he’s lingering just to touch me longer. My remaining anger towards him melts for a moment. In a strange environment where I’m stripped of my senses, he’s the only thing that’s familiar. He’s the only one I might just be able to trust.

There are low murmurs amongst the other task members, but not the cheerful kind like before. These are the types of conversations reserved for before high-risk missions. Conversations that hum just above a whisper. They know not everyone will return. You can hear it in their voices.

The van rocks back and forth as we drive. Ghost’s thigh presses against my own. I melt into his side. The firmness of his strength is a reassuring senestion. My hand rests between our legs as my thumb gently traces back and forth along his pantleg. I wonder if he can feel it? I wonder if he knows how this is going to end?

The terrain progressively deteriorates from pavement to gravel to dirt to something far more unpredictable. When the van suddenly stops there’s a split second of absolute stillness. It only lasts for a single breath. Then, it’s go time.

The clicking sounds of seatbelts fill the air. Orders are reaffirmed down the line. Shuffling bodies exit the van. Cold air wafts through the doors.

The blindfold is harshly yanked off my head. Ghost’s calm eyes latch onto mine. In the sea of chaos flowing around us, he remains anchored.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Ghost only nods once, his eyes telling me all I need to know.

Thick forest surrounds us as teams of armed men meticulously clear the surrounding area. It’s daylight, but the shadows of the trees make it feel like dusk. The snow crunches under my feet and bitter air bites at my skin as visible clouds form when I exhale. We’re back in Russia. Ultranationalist territory.

Price appears from another van followed by a formation of armed men who surround Ghost and myself.

“We’re clear. Their men have claimed their half and the rest are waiting on the flat.”

“How many?” Ghost asks, his hand is glued to the automatic riffle clipped to his vest. His eyes continuously scan the area for threats. Everyone is on high alert. Something is happening behind the scnenes that I don’t know about. I can just tell.     

“Half a dozen,” Price responds.

“Beyond the zone of action?”

“TAC estimates about fifty,” Price’s attention is entirely on Ghost. He trusts his opinion more than anyone else on the task force.

“We’re outnumbered,” Ghost’s jaw clenches under the skull mask. His response is short and matter-of-fact. He doesn’t like this. “Update on demolitions?”

“They’re ready,” Price smirks knowingly. What the hell have they got planned? Where is Soap?

Ghost processes what Price has just said. Despite his hesitancy he seems to find some reassurance in Price’s words.

“Right. Y/n,” my eyes are already on Price. “When we go out there, you stay in the detail circle until instructed otherwise. Keep your act up. Sell it to your father. If something happens, retreat to the West side of the flat,” his instructions echo between my ears. This is real. This is happening.

“Affirmative,” I force my chin up.

Then like no time has passed at all, we march as a unit through the trees into a long opening. It’s an old landing strip once used for planes with an abandoned hangar at the far side of the field. The sun gleams through the opening in the trees and reflects off the snow. The brightness hurts my eyes at firt, but then as they adjust, I see several men gathered at a table in the center of the air strip. Its them. It’s him.

Fear pummels through my veins. It’s violent and demands my attention. Every sense feels heightened. Dread fills my body and weighs me down like iron restraints.

It takes everything I have to push myself forward. Every action feels forced. Snow sinks up to my shins as we walk, adding extra resistance. The space is large, spanning multiple football fields.  I feel their eyes on us from a hundred meters away. I don’t think I can stomach seeing my father after everything.

The tension is killing me.

Four men surround me as Price and Ghost lead them towards the group. The Ultranationalists have more men at their station, but some of them must be the prisoners theyre supposed to exchange.

At least that’s what I think until Price clears his throat. “You’re missing three sergeants,” His voice sounds different than I’m used to: louder, demanding, dangerous.

“No one’s missing, Captain Price.” My father’s all too familiar voice reaches my ears. “I assume it’s Captain Price, you didn’t exactly leave room for introductions.” it’s warm and relaxed. “They’re resting just beyond the treeline. We only wanted to garuntee your honest intentions before bringing them out,” he sounds completely in control, with his attention completely on Price. It gives me a moment to really look at him.

I haven’t seen my father in weeks and while he looks exactly the same, I can barely recognize the man in front of us. His beard is longer, but still well groomed. He’s dressed in dark greens and greys, the same as the other Ultranationalists. A toque covers his head and a warm winter jacket is hugged by a bullet proof vest. A chest holster hides a gun while his hands remain open and falsely inviting. His eyes look darker than normal. He must be tired. Or maybe it’s hidden rage that gives them that look. I can’t tell anymore. He isn’t the person I once thought I knew, that much is certain.

Our eyes meet and my blood runs cold.

“Dad?” my voice croaks. Price’s reminder to play into the traumatized daughter act weighs on my shoulders. Suspicious eyes square me up from every angle. There isn’t a single person here who fully trusts me. One wrong word and we could all end up dead.

“Y/n?” his brows furrow as his head cranes in my direction. “Y/n, are you okay? Just be patient darling, you’ll be safe soon,” I note how he chooses his words to influence my emotions. How many times has he done this before without me noticing?

“Right, lets cut to the chase then, bring the rest of my men out and she’s all yours,” Price says. I watch as my father eyes him up for a second and then nods in agreement. He barks an order in Russian to one of the men behind him who repeats it into a transmitter.

Then Price steps to the side, opening up a hole in the baracade of men surrounding me. Ghost does the same as he turns and our eyes lock. Under the skull mask I see his lower lids tense with suspicion. He doesn’t trust the Ultranationalists. Every person here has conflicting goals and values. No one is safe.

I can’t look at him for long. Beyond them, someone else expects me.

I take off running into his arms and hot, genuine tears fall from my eyes and freeze to my cheeks. As his arms wrap around me, I can’t hide the shudder of terror that ripples down my spine. It’s becoming harder and harder to separate my father from his actions. When I close my eyes, I see the footage of him ordering the execution of hundreds of vulnerable people. “I’m scared, Dad,” the hushed truth leaves my lips and brushes against the fabric of his coat. He doesn’t react to my words.

“Those aren’t my men,” A type of hollow furry reverberates through Price’s chest. A realization. A confirmation. They let me go too soon. Now I’m in my father’s arms, while the men marching towards them are more Ultranationalists. Not the taken 141 soldiers.

“Oh, don’t worry about them,” he says with his arms still wrapped around me,” as I look over his soulder and past his soldiers, I see more men dressed in grey and green emerge past the treeline and stalk in our direction, guns in hand.

I hear Ghost whisper something into his com. I wonder how many guns are trained on us right now? How many snipers are hidden in the trees waiting for clearance?

“You don’t get to change the conditions of the exchange last minute.”

“I suppose you’re right. That’s not normally how we do things,” my father finally releases me from the hug. His leather glove wipes the tears from my face. The empty, almost irritated look in his eyes tells me he isn’t satisfied. “We don’t typically go through the effort of an exchange. However, Captain Price, these are unique circumstances. Yet, I can’t help the feeling that you are getting a better deal than we are. Look at all these men you’re getting. They’re incredibly valuable to us. They know a lot of information. Information that could hurt a lot of people. Not to mention your men who will be returned to you, once we adjust our terms, of course.”

“Is her life not valuable enough to you?” Ghost’s voice booms across the snow. It’s the first time he’s spoken since arriving. His official introduction to my father. In another life, I wonder if they’d like each other? 

“Of course it is,” he brings a hand to his heart and holds onto my arm with the other. It isn’t. I feel his grip tighten. “But that doesn’t mean this is a fair trade,” My stomach drops. He just confirmed everything I’ve feared without directly saying it. My life doesn’t matter as much as having an advantage on 141. He wants more. That greedy fucking bastard.

“What is then?” Price demands.

“You,” he answers. “And several lieutenants. Then we’re getting somewhere.”

“Negative. Never going to fucking happen. Get that through your thick, Russian skull,” large clouds form in plumes as Price’s burning words meet the arctic air. I sense the tension rising as more Ultranationalists approach the group. We were already outnumbered. Now it’s at least two to one. Why haven’t they called backup yet?

“It will. Wilingly or not,” there it is. The underlying threat of violence that has simmered just under the surface of this entire meeting has finally emerged. The Ultranationalists are more than willing to fight. Maybe they’re even counting on it.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Price sneers. I spare a glance in Ghost’s direction to find his eyes already on me. They’re unreadable. He’s never felt so far away.

“Yeah? What’s that?” my father’s cocky voice bites back. This entire time I feel his hands tighten around my arm as though my winter jacket isn’t there. The heavy vest weighs me down. The cold air hurts my skin. Everything feels off. And just when my attention is focused on every uncomfortable detail, Price’s words cut through the air with such clarity they almost don’t sound real.

“If you don’t follow through with our original deal, your wife will die.”

I feel my father freeze. His molten iron grip solidifies. At the same time my heart drops and it feels like I’m falling. My mom? 141 has my mom? My eyes flicker to Ghost, but he won’t look at me. He lied to me. Again. He fucking lied. Ghost had every opportunity to tell me and he didn’t. My cheeks flush with betrayal. After all this time… How could I be so stupid to trust him?

“That’s impossible,” for the first time, my father looks genuinely rattled. The Ultranationalists were supposed to have a team in New York to protect her. She would be almost untouchable. Yet, Price reaches into a large pouch on his vest and pulls out a tablet. On the screen is a livestreamed video of my mom tied to a chair in our family livingroom. The surge of panick that courses through my veins is indescribable.

Somehow, they did it.

“Go get my men,” Price lowly orders and I don’t doubt for a second he’d kill me or my mom to get what he wants. It’s a terrifying realization. He is willing to do anything to protect his task force. All notions of morals and ethics fly out the door when it comes to his men. Bennet was right. I’m not safe with them.

More orders fly out of my father’s mouth in Russian which are then repeated through the transmitter. All eyes are on the treeline waiting for the captured task force members to emerge.

I can’t bring myself to look at Ghost again. Not after this. Not after such a devastating betrayal.

Just as they emerge from the trees, a popping noise behind us in the distance snags my attention. I turn my head just before the men do, seeing nothing. But that noise, that unmistakable noise can only be  one damning thing.

Just like that, all bets are off the table.

I’m yanked behind the line of Untranationalists as each side raises their weapons at each other. The line hudles together and pushes back towards the trees as men from each side scream orders and threats at each other.

Over the shoulders of the Ultranationalists, I briefly see the six task members shift into formation, covering all angles. Price yells out something about their men and I realize they didn’t get ahold of the promised Ultranationalists or their captured soldiers. They are leaving completely empty handed, with the exception of my mom. If this doesn’t turn around, they’ll kill her. Nausea floods my stomach. I feel the blood leave my face. If I wasn’t being pushed back by my father, I would be sick right now.

The distinct sounds take me back to the night the Ultranationalists ambushed 141’s base. I’d never heard gunfire so close before, but that’s nothing compared to now. What once originated on the other side of the field, now sounds to be only meters away.

Price said if I get the chance, to escape to the West side, but right now, that’s impossible. And if I’m being honest, I don’t know that it’s any safer than being with my father. Nowhere is safe. The forest is crawling with armed men and even if I did escape, everyone would be looking for me and I don’t have anything to defend myself with.

“They’re moving forward!” I hear someone yell in Russian. We’re just entering the treeline as more men flood around us and then break into smaller groups. Everything is so completely chaotic and yet seemingly rehersed.

My lungs burn and for a moment I forget how cold it is outside. Adrenaline and panic fight with eachother as I try to distinguish what to focus on. So much is happening. I completely forget about my father’s grip on my arm.

“Y/n,” he braces my shoulders, encouraging me to look at him. His eyes are wide with excitement. I feel like I’m going to be sick looking at him. “Everything is going to be alright dear, we’ll escape to the trucks. Alright? Just follow me, okay?” I manage a small nod.

I’m yanked forward as we run through the trees. The group of men with us switched from those on the field and now there are only four additional Ultranationalists escorting us. I don’t know how long my father pulls me along for. It feels like miles and hours, but can’t be more than a few minutes.

A loud eruption shakes the ground as snow and dirt fly through the air and a tree crashes beside us. Holy fuck, that was close.

Smoke clouds the air as people shout and bullets fly. The scene can only be described as a deadly, gorilla clusterfuck with the goal of taking out as many people from the other side as possible. We are in an incredibly dangerous position.

Just as the thought crosses my mind, one of the escorts is shot in the leg and drops to the ground. Red stains the snow around him. My father yells in Russian to keep going.

We weave through the thick pines and any sense of direction I once had is gone. My heart thunders in my chest.

A loud shot rings through the air and another Ultranationalist drops to the ground. A second shot sends a bullet through his skull.

Someone is following us. Stalking us. Toying with us. My gut turns.

For a second, I wonder if it’s a sniper.

Then, a knife comes flying through the air, lodging itself into the back of the third of my father’s men.

It’s in this moment, I know exactly who is after us. After me.

The last soldier turns around and fires blindly into the trees behind us. As soon as his clip is empty and he pauses to reload, a single bullet pummels through the trees and it too, pierces his skull and stains the snow a brilliant red. His body slumps to the ground with a muffled thump.

My father pushes us behind the trunk of a large tree and grips his handgun in both hands. He doesn’t need to tell me to be quiet. I don’t think I could make a sound if I tried.

The sounds of gunfire and explosions echo in the distance, but there’s nothing close to us like there was before. The majority of the fighting is taking place closer to the air strip.

The only place Ghost ever struggled with stealth, is in the snow. There’s no technology in the world that’ll muffle the sound of his footsteps strategically approaching the tree we’re hiding behind. You can hear the frigidness in the air as the crunching snow gets louder. He’s close.

“Throw your weapons to the side of the tree and then slowly step out with your hands in the air,” Ghost’s demanding voice fills the air. A dissatisfied grumble ripples through my father’s chest. I shift to move from behind the tree and a large hand snags the back of my vest, pulling me back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses.

I bite my tongue. He doesn’t know Ghost like I do. There’s no escaping him. The best I can hope for is that he doesn’t want to kill either of us.

“I won’t repeat myself,” his voice sounds closer already. I can imagine him on the other side of the tree with his assault riffle pointed in our direction. Part of me wants to believe he wouldn’t fire on us. But I honestly don’t know anymore.

“Forgive me darling,” the hushed words come as my father wraps his arms around me from behind. He pulls me against his chest and presses the barrel of his gun to my temple before stepping out from behind the tree.

“What the fuck are you doing?” the panicked words bubble up my throat as I try and escape his deathly grasp. I twist and throw my weight around, but it’s no use. Even with one hand occupied, he’s simply too strong. “Let go!” The barrel of the gun bumps against my head as hysteria begins to cloud my better judgement.

Just feet away, Ghost stands with his weapon aimed directly at me. At some point he clipped the riffle to his vest and switched to his handgun. Behind the daunting skull mask, his narrowed eyes calculate our every move with extreme precision.

I’ve heard the rumors about Ghost. Caught wind of whispers detailing the horrors he’s capable of. I’ve even witnessed some of the brutality myself working as his translator. Yet none of that cruelty was ever directed toward me. Now, I find myself looking directly down the barrel of his gun. There is no escaping Ghost’s wrath. There’s no escaping my father’s wrath.

“Put the gun down,” he calmly instructs my father. There’s something different about his voice. Something tense. I notice a stiffness about his posture that isn’t usually there. I’m not the only one who picks up on his behaviour either.

“So that bastard was right,” spite laces my father’s voice. His hot words travel down the back of my neck as his arm wraps tighter around my chest. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

I blink. My mouth dries up and I’m left speechless. How the hell does he know? How did Bennet know? Who else knows?

“No, dad-” the words start to tumble out of my mouth.

“Don’t lie to me, little bird,” his tone is venomous. I’m a traitor to him. Sleeping with his enemy. “You fucking whore.”

Tears prick my eyes. His words stun me and I can’t help the self loathing that weighs down my shoulders.

“Let her go or I’ll shoot,” fearful tremors shake my body. My vision starts to blur with emotion. I’ve never felt so scared in my life. I truly may not survive this.

“Then what?” he sneers “You’ll kill me anyways.”

“If you don’t, your wife will die,” the ultimatum is clear. “Is she really worth it?” Ghost’s words sting like never before. I wish one of them would make a decision, put me out of my misery.

Then, as if without thinking at all, my father releases me from his grip and takes a large step back. My weak knees barely hold my shaking body and when I turn around to face him, I truly don’t recognize the man in front of me anymore. Hundreds of burning questions ache for air, but the only one that escapes my lips begs for the devastating truth.

“Do you- do you even love me?” I force myself to make eye contact with him. From the very start of this horrifying journey, something has been missing. Like I was trying to read a misprinted book.

My father purses his lips and furrows his brows. I know the answer when our eyes meet. Not now. Certainly not after betraying him like he thinks I did. He inhales like he’s about to answer when three deafening gunshots pierce the air. I feel the bullets whiz through the air beside my head and watch as one tears through my father’s arm and two hit him in the shoulder. His gun falls to the ground and his eyes buldge as he realizes what just happened.

Ghost rushes past me and tackles my father to the ground. He forces his arms behind his back, despite the bleeding wounds, and zipties his hands together. He groans empty threats, but they’re so muffled I can’t make them out. None of this feels real. Every part of my body feels numb and full of static. Breathing becomes increasingly difficult.

Ghost stuffs my father’s mouth with a gag and then covers his head with a black bag. I try to tune out the harrowing sounds of his muffled moans and the distant gunfire and explosions. I feel a panick attack building under the surface of my skin. This is all too much. My knees finally give in.

“Y/n? Y/n,” Ghost’s voice softens as he abandons my father for me. His gloved hands are gentle as they embrace both sides of my head. I flinch away from his touch, causing him to falter. “You’re safe y/n, I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe,” he crouches to the ground beside me and pulls me against his bulky chest. I missed feeling his warmth so damn bad. I want to trust him. God do I want to, but all he does is lie to me. “We just have to get closer to the runway. Then the extraction team will get us out of here,” he strokes my hair as he speaks.

I’m not ready when he pulls us up from our position on the ground, but there’s no time to be ready. Every second we waste in the forest - in Ultranationalist territory - is another second we risk running into more of their soldiers.

Someone is going to notice my father’s absence, if they haven’t already. And they will come looking, if they haven’t already. In which case we are in even more danger.

Ghost lifts my father to his feet and forces him to walk, at times roughly pushing him ahead. Watching them makes my stomach twist into a knot. I can’t believe I haven’t thrown up yet.

He switches the handgun for his automatic riffle again and uses the sight to scope out the surrounding woods.

I have no idea where we are, yet Ghost seems to know the exact path to our destination.

Twice, he takes out multiple men in the distance before they can spot us, but our treck back is otherwise eerily silent.

I don’t remember waiting for the chopter or boarding or the ride back to Latvia. But I do remember the pained sounds escaping my father’s chest as he sits across from me, still blindfolded.

I completely forgot about Soap’s absence admidst clusterfuck of everything else going on. That’s until I hear another member of the task force briefing Ghost on a separate attack they planned to take place while the exchange was happening. The whirling of the helicopter makes it almost impossible make out their words, but Ghost’s eyes give away everything.

“He was injured sir. Badly. He lost a lot of blood on the way back to base and they didn’t have the equipment to operate in the air,” I feel my heart rate pick up and watch as Ghost completely freezes.

I don’t hear what Ghost asks him next. I do however, see the soldier shake his head with remorse.

Dread consumes me.

[atxxokirina]

'Make You Mine Again' (18+)

Lo'ak x fem Omatikayan reader

contains: SMUTTY SMUT, mention of cheating, lo'ak (somewhat) gaslighting reader, dom lo'ak, p in v, wall fuck, creampie, squirt. lmk if i missed anything!

plot: you dump lo'ak after discovering he cheated on you. he feels terrible about his fuck up, so he comes over to make it up to you.. to make you his again.

Your boyfriend, Lo'ak was one of the best hunters you knew. He'd exelled at just about everything. Aiming arrows, throwing his bola, spears, axes— and his accuracy when it came to the variety of knives he owned was truly incredible. The only thing Lo'ak continuously failed at was timing.

"Ready, aim, shoot!" Jake shouts at his warrior crew. The bunch shoot in unison, arrows flying at their targets. "Tsu'mong, Áyena, Neteyam, great forms! Chest relaxed with confident shoulders. I love to see it." He claps. Jake makes his way to Lo'ak's distressed arrow, eyeing how it landed just below everyone else's. He bends down, plucking the arrow out of the tree.

Jake stands up to look at his son. Holding intense eye contact with him. "Everyone.. dismissed." Lo'ak knew he was to stay, just by the way his father was glaring at him. You watched from above the trees, feeling a sad ache forming in your heart as you watched Lo'ak bow down his head in shame. As the group of hunters walk away from the site, you wave to Lo'ak. He holds back a grin, vaugely nodding up at you.

"You already know what I'm gonna say, boy." Jake growls as he points at Lo'ak. "Hunting retreat is in 2 days. Get your timing straight or you're not goin' with us! That understood?"

"Yes, sir.." Lo'ak replies, voice low. "Good. Now go, dismissed." Jake grunts as Lo'ak picks up his arrow and walks away. Your eyes follow him. You drop down from the tree you sat in, landing right behind him. "Hey! You okay?" He turns around. “I’m alright." He sighs.

It just feels like I’m never good enough for him..” His tone is strained, eyes casted down on the ground. “I try my absolute hardest- I think I’m doing everything right, but then he gets upset anyway. I just don’t know what to say. This stupid retreat is dumb anyway.” He shrugs, shaking his head. "And did you see the way everyone looked at me when he called me out?"

You frown, tilting your head and rubbing his shoulder. "Yeah baby, I saw.." you sighed. "Look, it's okay. You've been doing great. I watch you everyday, and you know practice makes perfect." You speak as you cling to his arm, walking alongside him. "Remember how hard it was for you to throw your bola at first? And now look at you, you're great at it."

His expression softens at the mention, earning a genuine smile. “Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point. Just gotta keep at it.” He walks with you, holding your hand. “Thanks, y/n." You smile, resting your head on his shoulder. "Mhm, of course. You know I got you, what kind of a girlfriend would I be if-"

"Lo'ak!" An somewhat familiar voice calls after your boyfriend, you shoot your head around to see- his.. ex? She was around the same height as you, shorter hair, braids tied back. "Áyena? Hey, what's up, what are you doing here?" Lo'ak instantly unclasped your hand as if he didn't want her to see. He walks up to the girl and gives her a handshake that soon turned into a hug. Your arms fold, tilting your head as a disgusted expression forms on your face. You scoff, watching as his manerisims completely changed.

"Hm, I hear Jake has been giving you a hard time during training," She starts. "I could give you some, pointers later on.." She flashes a shit eating grin at you, snaking her hand up to his neck. Lo'ak pushes her hand away, he mumbles "Not here" under his breath, hoping you wouldn't hear, but you still caught it.

You folded your arms in disbelief, shaking your head. "Wow.." You're at a loss for words, Lo'ak snaps out of whatever trance he was in and turns around to you. "Later, Lo.." Áyena speaks in a shallow tone, winking as she left.

“She’s just a friend..” He says after a moment, his voice quiet. He doesn’t even look at you while he speaks. "Didn't even have to ask you, huh?" He now looks at you, face screwed in guilt. "A friend, my ass. That shit she pulled speaks for itself." You huff in annoyance, walking away from him. He follows behind you “What, you don’t trust me?” Lo'ak asks, coming off overly defensive. He knows he's been found out, but of course, he won't go down without a fight. Even if he is in wrong.

You ignore him and continue strutting away, knowing that this will only agitate you more. "It was just a hug. Just listen to me, fuck!" He says from behind you, irritation growing as you give him the cold shoulder. Nothing he's saying is adding up.

Just a hug? Fuck that. You saw the way he looked at her. You knew that lust filled look, and just the thought of him going behind your back entrances your body with rage. "You know what? Fuck you, I'm leaving." He speaks huskily. It made no sense how he was getting so upset over this. He was the one who cheated on you, not the other way around.

"No, you're not!" You pull his arm and turn him around. "Tell me the fucking truth, Lo'ak! Did you fuck her? Huh?" You raise your voice at him, anger building by the minute. His face twitches, eyes stuttering to look at you. "I know that look, so just tell me. Don't fucking lie." You demand.

He yanks his arm back to escape your hold. “Áyena is my friend.” He growls, scowling. “Nothing happened.” He adds quickly. He’s so clearly lying to you, and doing a very poor job of it.

"Lo'ak. If you lie to me one more time.. you'll regret it. You, and her. I swear." You step closer, whispering a threat in his ear.

Lo’ak took you seriously this time. His expression softens in fear. He takes a breath, looking straight into your eyes, but can’t maintain the look for long, your expression is too intimidating. He looks to side, a heavy sigh falling out of his mouth as he slumps. “Fine..” You look at him, expecting the unvarnished truth this time. "Okay.. It's complicated, but-"

"It's not complicated. Did you fuck her, or not?" Your voice is stern. "Yes.. I did- fuck her." He finally admits. You sharply inhale, closing your eyes for a moment and collecting your thoughts. He looks at you with saddened eyes, worrying about what your next reaction might be.

"We're done." Just saying those words made your heart crumble. You loved Lo'ak so much, a part of you wished to forgive him. To let it all go, pretend that nothing ever happened, but you couldn't live like this, you couldn't do that to yourself.

"Y/n, I-I'm so sorry!" He sniffles, tears rolling down his face. “Tell me what you want from me,” Lo’ak please. “I’ll do whatever you want” He’s desperate to show he’s sorry. So much so that he kneels before you. “I love you, I want to be with you forever, how can I make this right?” He cries, his words broken with desperation. "Please, don’t leave. Please.."

You have to admit, he looks pathetic like this, but your heart still aches for him.

'I can't do this to myself.' you remind your consciousness.

"I'm sorry.. I can't. I'm sorry." You fight back an ocean of tears, shifting your view away from his as you back away. Ignoring the calls of your name. Your heart feels as if it's been shattered.

The walk back to your hut was silent and lonely. You tried to distract yourself from the terrible experience you've had tonight. Focusing on the rustling leaves, Fkio chirping, and bioluminescent flowers moving with the wind.

｡⁠*☆ﾟ⁠+

It's been 3 days since the breakup. You've been cooped up in your hut since then, only leaving during the dead of the night, to collect food for the next day, or bathing in the nearest cave.

You wake up in the middle of the night. Feeling groggy and exhausted. You prayed to Eywa that you'd feel even a sliver of relief, but alas, your heart is still heavy. Sitting up and throwing your blanket off your body, you sigh. After a few moments, you notice the silhouette standing in your doorway. You gasp. "What the fuck.." You whisper, standing up while your tail stays alert, flicking as the figure stays still.

The moonlight shines on the person's back, their shadow now coming into full sight. You face drops once you realize who it is, body becoming weak at the sight. "Lo'ak..?" You speak in a hushed tone. His tall form steps closer to you, pulling you close by your waist."Y/n, baby.. I'm so sorry." He's now peering down at you. Your eyes are filled with such sadness, but you avoid looking at him. No, you won't give him that satisfaction. "You need to leave.."

"Give me one more chance.." he leans his head down, giving your neck a soft kiss. You stand still, silently refusing to give in. "C'mon.." He abruptly wraps his hand around your neck, catching you off guard.

You rumble a tiny whine. But he doesn't stop his lips, infact, they only grow more intimate against your neck. Lo'ak snakes his hand to your breasts, squeezing them as he inhales a moan. "Let me make you feel good.. just.." His breath fans against your neck, you shudder. "One more chance.. I know you miss me, don't you mama?"

You felt a puddle of heat growing in your loincloth, you hated how easily wet this got you. But you couldn't lie. You did miss him. His touch, his strong arms, and the way he fucked you. "N-no.." You breathe out, fighting his eyes again. Lo'ak notices and catches your chin, forcing you to look at him.

He maintains eye contact. Undressing you with his eyes. He pulls you into a kiss. Tounge immediately slipping in your mouth, as if it's making up for lost time. Your hands wrap around his neck as you fall into the kiss, jumping onto him, legs tight around his waist.

Lo'ak grips your ass, squeezing it. He pushes you into the wall, a surprised wince comes from you. You look at him, silently pleading with your eyes.

Please, take me.

That look was all he needed. He scrambles to untie his loincloth, hard cock springing out. Veins are protruding, aching like your heart. Lo'ak moves your loincloth to the side, met with your glistening slick. "So fucking wet for me.." He huffs. Aligning his cock up to your pussy, teasing your clit while he's at it. You whimper at the friction. Without warning, he pushes himself into you.

A strained moan comes from you, he smirks with a breath. He pumps into your tight cunt, pace quick and determined. "Shit.. so tight for me," He grunts under his breath, rutting into you like no tomorrow. You squint your eyes shut, suppressing your moans. They come out as chopped breaths.

"Nah, don't hide from me baby, just- fuck.. let go for me." He tells you, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. You refuse, eyebrows narrow as you fight your body. "Really?" He laughs at you, now snapping his hips into you relentlessly. "Ah!" You finally moan, feeling him deeper than before. Lo'ak looks down at your pussy, watching your liquids mix with his, he notices the buldge in your stomach.

"Mnphh.. Lo'aaak!" You moan out, throwing your head back in pleasure. "Fuck, Lo'ak!" Your chest rises and falls, feeling your climax build. His head lifts at the moan of his name, hips stuttering. He's close too. You feel it. Feel his cock twitching inside.

"That's right, say my name baby.." As your back arches, your boobs bounce in his face. He rips your top off, swiftly bringing his lips to your hard nipples. Licking circles around the bud, his hand meets with your clit, rubbing up and down, angling his hips up, cock kissing your cervix.

"Haah- oh, Eywa! Right thereee, please don't stop! I'm s-so close!!" You pant and whimper. "Gonna cum!"

"M-Me too! Fuck, hold on baby. Not yet." He groans. Grinding his hips into yours, you both moan in ecstasy. Lo'ak feels your walls clench around him. "Cum at the same time. You're gonna wait for me, aren't you? Gonna be a good girl?"

"Uh huh, y-yesss!" You babble, eyes rolling back as you pant. "Tight pussy's choking me.. oh, fuck." Lo'ak tries to focus on your movements, closing him eyes.

Squeeze and release.

Squeeze and release.

Squeeze and release.

He feels the blood rushing to his cock, pupils wide as that familiar feeling builds inside of him. You feel it too, how his cock is begging for a release. You look at him. "Please, I need to cum. Please, please please pleaseee.." Your weak moans just turn him on more.

"Almost baby, almost.." He says, remaining eyes shut. You whine, not sure if you can hold back much longer. "Mmm.. ngghh, I can't, I can't-"

"Shit, now! Cum now baby, cum all over my cock!" His abrupt demand cuts you off. You obey in an instant, finally relaxing your body as your clear liquid spurts out onto him. "Fuuuck!" You cry.

His thick and warms load floods your womb, getting his last thrusts in as he moans above you. One last grunt comes from him before he pulls out.

You're completely winded. "Hey, you okay?" He asks with concern, setting you down. Your body is limp, mind empty but you respond with a low sound. "Mhmm.."

He lifts you up, placing you back on your cot, seeing how he fucked you right back to sleep made him laugh to himself.

"So glad I could make you mine again.." Lo'ak lowly whispers, softly kissing your plump lips and exiting your tent before the sun begins to rise.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinktober (13)- Worship

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary: You prove to Wanda how much you love her after she confesses she feels insecure about her body.

Warnings/Tags: Soft smut, Insecurities about body image, Fingering, Fluff

Kinktober Masterlist

Walking into the bedroom after dropping the twins off at their fathers, you see Wanda standing by the mirror in only her underwear and slowly creep up behind her. Too busy in her own mind, she doesn't notice you in the reflection, body jumping when your arms snake around her middle and your head rests on her shoulder. You frown when you see her face, the insecurities and disgust in her eyes as she looks at her body.

“What’s wrong, love?” you murmur softly, her eyes meeting yours in the reflection, her smile not genuine as she tries to seem ok.

“Nothing Detka,” she whispers back, voice a little shaky. You simply look at her in the mirror, not accepting that as an answer causing her to sigh. “I just…I don’t get what you see in me,” she mutters, her hands going to her stomach, fingers tracing the stretch marks there.

“I see the most beautiful woman in the world,” your voice is almost overwhelmingly full of emotion as you keep your gaze fixated on her, “I see a woman who has the biggest heart possible, that’s kind, caring and loving to everyone,” your hands overlap hers, your own fingers tracing the marks there, “I also see a strong, powerful woman who brought two incredible people into this world that I love with my whole heart.” Her eyes glint with doubt at your words and she looks down at the floor while you continue to look at the mirror.

“You don’t have to say that just because I’m your girlfriend,” she mumbles, turning her head to look at you properly.

“I’m not,” you whisper back, moving your hands to cup her jaw as she turns her body fully to face you, “I mean what I say Wanda, you’re beautiful, inside and out. You’re my everything.” A lone tear drops from her eyes, your thumb brushing it away gently.

“I’m sorry,” her voice barely audible, “It’s just he used to… he would say-”

“He is an idiot who doesn't matter anymore,” you cut off, not letting her mind drown in his belittling and degrading comments. “You are so much more than what he ever said,” you lean forwards and press a soft kiss to her lips, smiling into the kiss when you feel her wrap her arms around you and pull you closer. “In fact, why don’t I show you how much I love this body, how much I love you?” You question against her lips, her eyes flicking up to yours to see how they darken ever so slightly.

Wanda answers by moving her hands to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss as you guide the two of you to the bed. You push her ever so softly, her falling onto the mattress, hair sprawling out as she looks like a work of art. You climb on top of her, pressing your lips to hers passionately but slowly, your hands drifting up and down her body, touch delicate making her whimper softly into your mouth.

“You are ethereal, my love,” you murmur as you break the kiss, moving to place open mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Your hands swiftly unclasp her bra, discarding the item on the floor before moving your hands to softly cup her breasts. You hear her sigh at your words, the doubt still lingering slightly making you look up from your position near her chest. “If you don’t believe me love, read my mind,” you say, her hesitating for a moment before her hands gently thread through your hair. You feel her magic flow through as you continue your journey down her body, worshipping every inch you possibly can. A gasp leaves her at the intensity of your love for her, the admiration and adoration you have for her, and she leaves your mind without needing to look any further.

“Do you believe me now?” you murmur out, mouth kissing the top of her chest as you plan to lavish her with affection. You take a perk nipple into your mouth, sucking lightly on the sensitive nub while your fingers roll the other, a low moan escaping her. Your tongue swirls around her hardened nipple, a groan escaping you at the soft whimpers leaving her lips, the vibrations making her moan louder momentarily. You let go with a pop, looking up at her with awe in your eyes as a string of saliva attaches from your mouth to her chest. You kiss across her chest, in between the valley of her breasts before taking the other nipple into your mouth and moving your hand to the breast that’s wet from your mouth. Your fingers trace around her nipple teasingly as your tongue flicks her other before you take it fully into your mouth. You repeat what you did to her other breast, sucking and licking at the sensitive until you have her whimpering desperately for you to continue.

“Please Detka,” She moans out, looking down at you with pleading eyes making you smirk into her skin.

“Soon, love,” you whisper, placing a kiss at the top of her abdomen and gradually making your way down. When you reach her stretch marks you feel her tense ever so slightly and look up to her head lolled to the side, looking away from you. “Look at me Wanda,” her eyes snap over to you at your tone, your eyes full of love and care that makes her want to pull you back up to her face and crash her lips to yours. “These,” you press a kiss to a small scar, “Don’t disgust me, ok? I don’t care what he said, they don’t make you look ugly or disgusting. In fact, I think they make you even more beautiful,” you look at her as you move to kiss as many as you can. “They show how strong and amazing you are, how you brought Tommy and Billy into this world, so please my love, don’t be ashamed of them,” you see in her eyes how she listens to your words, the doubt fading away making you smile against her skin.

You move up her body to press your lips to hers, both of you pouring your emotions into it as her hands cup your jaw and you brace yourself above her with one hand. Your fingers continue your journey down her body, them sliding under the waistband of her panties so you could pull the soaked fabric off of her.

“You’re so wet for me,” you groan against her lips when you slide your fingers through her folds, her arousal coating your fingers.

“Please,” she moans once again when she feels you tease her entrance with your index finger, your thumb moving to slowly circle her clit. You quieten her with your mouth, claiming it once again and muffling the moan that leaves her lips when you slide your finger in effortlessly. You thrust your finger in at a torturous pace and slowly drag it out before sliding it back in to have her groaning in frustration. You ignore her pleas that spill from her lip, wanting to slowly build her orgasm up and have her squirming under you.

You curl your finger in her, hitting her g-spot with every pump of your fingers, making her hands go to your back as she holds onto you for support, eyes closing and mouth parting in pleasure. You watch her as her face contorts to pleasure with every movement, breathy sighs and soft moans filling the room as your thumb rubs tighter circles on her clit. Her body writhes under you, hips bucking up in search of more pleasure while your fingers continue at the same place.

“Please, please,” she moans over and over, you finally giving in and increasing your pace. You're thrusting your fingers into her mercilessly, your name tumbling out of her mouth like a chant as her orgasm swiftly approaches. “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” she groans out, throwing her head back against the mattress. “I love you,” she sighs out before your lips crash against hers, dampening the scream that leaves her lips. Her body tenses under you, a powerful orgasm ripping through her body as her legs begin to shake. You prolong her orgasm as long as you can, moving your fingers inside her, and then help her ride out her aftershocks.

“I love you too,” you whisper back, pressing small pecks all over her face making her smile, nose scrunching cutely.

“Thank you,” she murmurs into another kiss, smiling against your lips as you move so your body weight rests on her, arms wrapping around her so you can roll the two of you over. You lay on your back with her on top of you, grinning ear to ear before moving to rest her face at the crook of your neck. Her breathing tickles your neck, hands slipping under your shirt to brush against your warm skin. “So warm,” she mutters, making you smile as you look down, her eyes closed as she gradually drifts off to sleep in your arms.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

[obae-me]

Omg Hi!!! It has been so long since I have seen you on my dash! How are you doing love? I hope you are doing super well ^.^ I recently saw your Mc with trauma post. I loved it so much, and it has also given me a lot to mull over the past few days lol.

Honestly I love the idea of a traumatized Mc and the brothers feeling like absolute shit for the way they treated them in the beginning... but yk another part of me wonders when I imagine my own traumas in that scenario... that for people (the bros- literal demons) who have faced so many things and traumas in their own lives, whether my feelings or pain is even comparable to that. Ik you can't compare things like that and the brothers would probably even be mad if I think of my feelings this way since it's the "Ohhhh someone always has it worse. It's not even that bad so just suck it up" self-deprecating part of me. Despite knowing ALL THAT I can't help but think that I am not traumatized enough to deserve empathy lmao (I realize how stupid it sounds saying it out loud).

So that is what REALLY got me thinking. What about an Mc that is genuinely terrified of scrutiny, being a nuisance and just basically inconveniencing anyone for things that are just basic needs. Idk if I am explaining it well enough oof and a mc like that (like me lmao) certainly won't bode well with Lucifer. Atleast not in the beginning. I could hate him (I could never but if I did) but still be terrified of disappointing him. This is what I mean when I say I love him but he reminds me too much of my father habits wise 🤢.

I am thinking a Mc who is afraid of asking even their basic needs at the beginning once Lucifer mumbled about them being too much trouble. Mc who feels so extremely guilty when the brothers get anything for them, cuz they feel like they have to work for it or they don't deserve it. Mc whose blood freezes over when they break something and try to replace it as quick as possible so no one blames them. Mc who never expresses their concerns so as to not add to the brothers' already full plates or worry them. It hurts to bottle it all up but seeing the brothers' concerned faces with so much PITY is a thousand times worse. Mc who never complains and adjusts to even unfair situations so as to not be a bother. Mc who just takes, takes and takes everything bad and doesn't say a word cuz they feel like they deserve it. Mc who tells little white lies to hide their flaws and be the perfect exchange student and avoid scoldings and criticisms ; only to stew in shame, disgust, self-loathing when someone eventually catches up on one of the lies (the person probably didn't even make a big deal of it/ was only mildly disappointed but Mc feels their heart breaking in two as they think they have broken their trust forever and would never be trusted again)

Gosh this got way longer than I was expecting >.< and a lot of signs like these aren't really obvious until you are close to that person. I think so many of us are so hard and rutheless to ourselves when sometimes the thing we need the most is a little compassion and understanding ;-;

Hi! I love seeing you in my inbox and thank you! I've been in recovery mode for the last few months but am finally coming back out of that cave and working on my hobbies again (seriously going too long without writing almost feels like going without food for me)! I hope you've been doing well too!

And oof, yes, I understand what you're saying completely. I'm like that too in a lot of ways, keeping certain details or complaints to myself because "Oh surely what I've been to is really nothing". And sometimes I let something slip and people get very concerned. Which is validating in a way, not that I need to be validated for it, everyone goes through their own pain and awful things SUCK no matter to what extent it is and I've had to learn that through my life.

(Wow that MC really is just me, huh? Calling me out are you? /j)

Honestly this type of MC is just canon to me. (I mean, the more pithy responses the MC has in original OM might just be due to writing but to me it just seems like the calm and general response of someone throwing out NPC answers as a survival tactic.)

They suck things up and soak up everything that's been said to them and work hard to remain a normal functioning being.

And of course Lucifer is an interesting character to think about with this MC because on one hand the human could absolutely despise him for the way he treats them. Or on the other hand (if you're like me I guess, which I realize is hella unhealthy, oops) the MC could look up to him and work extra hard to try to gain his validation, because getting praise from someone like that means you must not be a failure, right?

And just...the dynamic of that is so appealing to me, because Lucifer loves when people work hard and do what they're told, but then if he finally comes to the realization that they're burning out and actually almost putting themselves in more danger and harm because of HIM? And at the end of the day he's doing more damage than any of his chaotic brothers? (I like to have him spiral and be humbled just a bit)

Just all of the brothers doing some deep introspection once they come to care for MC and needing to sit down and realize that probably made their human feel so much worse and then spending the rest of eternity trying to fix that. And then the "I can fix him" mentality from MC turns into the "I can fix them" from every other character. A special Uno Reverse, if you will.

Oops, this turned into a fairly long ramble of my own...

Thanks for popping into my inbox with your thoughts! Traumatized MC deserves some extreme love

[lemotmo]

Will never understand the kinds of messages some of you all have had to read over these past few months. But yeah this is basically it. It's not our fault they chose to pretend otherwise.

Q. Genuine question because you were fine with Tommy following 7x4 so what the hell happened? How can you hate him so much now?

A. There is nothing to Tommy as a character in his own right, but he serves genuine narrative purpose. If you go back and look at my post directly following 7x4 I absolutely did say that he was fun and they could keep him around for a bit. I understand giving Buck relationships. I had no problems with him up to 7x4 because his part/purpose in those first episodes was well fleshed out, but even in that episode Eddie felt like the actual point to all of their scenes, and was in fact in most of their scenes. Then immediately following episode 4 it became abundantly clear what Tommy was, a paint by numbers plot device. I made a post about it following episode 5. Then I answered an ask about it and received messages about wanting me dead. People telling me I better pray that I don't run into them on the street one day. People demanding I disclose the name of the company I work for because my boss needs to be aware of the kind of person I am ( I called a fictional person a plot device so of course my boss should fire me). These are not serious people. So I stopped replying to them like serious people. I was willing, and in fact did have genuine conversations with a couple of people about him. But the minute the cameo nonsense began it wasn't possible to talk to them anymore. Because they were no longer willing to talk realistically. For them everything became about Lou. It wasn't about Tommy, it certainly wasn't about Buck, most of them don't know anything about Buck. For them it became entirely about Lou. I, like most of the audience, followed the narrative of the television show and as a result we became the enemy. My problem is not with Tommy, because he does serve actual narrative purpose, but he serves Buck's narrative purpose. And they don't want to admit that.

I have stated several times to send me ONE canon thing, anything that shows Tommy as what they are telling us he is and I will be happy to discuss it with them and no one has been able to send me anything canon that validates their point. Because nothing in canon exists. And they know that. Everything I received was from a cameo, a headcanon or was actually Eddie canon that they said should apply to Tommy as well because the show stated their backgrounds are similar. The show stated no such thing. The show stated they were both in the military and both into muay thai and classic cars. That's nowhere near having a similar background or life story (but they are noticeable commonalities for Buck to see which was their entire reason for being in the first place). Then people said he came from an abusive home. What episode was that in? In canon he had one line about a father he didn't get along with. Nowhere near the same as having an abusive childhood. Then I was told he was bullied and picked on in school and in the military and during his time at the 118. No. No. And no. None of that is canon to Tommy. What is canon to Tommy is that he was abusive to Chim and Hen when they arrived at the 118. They came up with the victim Tommy nonsense to absolve him of his abusive behavior, and to yell at anyone who pointed out his actual canon history. Because it has never been about the show's version of Tommy. There is nothing to Tommy that's the point of a plot device. It's about the Tommy they and Lou invented. Lou invented him for attention, knowing the entire time everything he was saying was bullshit. He may not have known his exact last episode at that time but he knew how his arc ended. And he still chose to speak bullshit. Bullshit he literally charged them to say. It was a con. And it was disgusting. And it absolutely ruined anything and everything associated with his very presence for me (nevermind the fact that I don't find him the least bit attractive). I never had an actual problem with Tommy, outside of the problematic behavior we were supposed to be bothered by when he was a plot device for Chim and Hen, because I understand what the point of him is in this storyline. Tommy hasn't had a single scene with Buck that Eddie has not been a part of in some capacity. Either directly or indirectly Eddie has been a part of every one of his scenes. And that is going to continue with this week's episode. That is purposeful. That is intentional and people are allowed to point that out. It's why the show is doing it. They're not being subtle. And following the narrative does not make me or anyone else they're yelling at the enemy. Look, anon what happened was Lou hijacked the narrative for likes and shameless self promotion, and as a result what should have been an amazing experience about watching Buck finally figuring himself out, including his very complicated feelings for Eddie, was also hijacked. This storyline was everything most of the audience wanted but thanks to him and the circus he created it's been miserable and I will forever be, justifiably, angry about that.

Thank you Nonny! 🤗

Yes to all of this and especially to the last few sentences of Ali's answer. In fact, I want to add some of my own thoughts here.

Listen...

I have been watching this show for years now, quietly shipping buddie in my corner of the Internet, writing some fanfic and generally enjoying the ambiance and atmosphere of this great loving fandom. Were there fandom problems in the past? Sure, but which fandom doesn't have some bad elements in it? There were a few smaller problems, but overall it was quite peaceful here, especially on Tumblr.

Then season 7 happened. Finally something happened to shake up the status quo and naturally I started thinking of the next logical step for Buck.

I mean, don't get me wrong, we got bi Buck which was amazing all on its own. This is great rep. Even though I do think that Buck deserved more than the one episode of discovery that he got. He definitely deserved a better first boyfriend. 🙄

But logically the narrative would always lead him to Eddie. Everything we were shown of the BT relationship in season 7 told us over and over again that Tommy wasn't going to last. And that's okay. He was there for a reason and he played his part.

Ultimately, the fandom couldn't enjoy any of it, because as soon as we started theorising how Buck's bisexuality could one day lead him to Eddie, we were called 'homophobic' or 'biphobic'. Afterwards it was months of relentless harassment, threats and hate messages in our ask boxes.

Am I supposed to forget the horrible accusations at my and some of my mutual's address? These people made up lies and created entire falsely written conversations to accuse us of writing these terrible and sick fanfictions. They literally tried to set us up. It's like the plot of a bad B-movie or something. All of this over a ship and a show? It was insanity!🤷‍♀️

This was supposed to be the culmination of Buck and Eddie's story. This was all about Buddie and how all the roads would lead to each other. We were supposed to enjoy that ride. That is what fandom essentially is about: having FUN!

Instead it became some of the most difficult months I've even spent in this fandom. So yeah... like Ali, I'm so incredibly pissed about it.

You guys know me. I don't try to dwell on anger and negativity. So I have done my best to stay positive and inject some of that positivity into the fandom. But yeah... the anger is there and I don't think it's going anywhere any time soon.

That being said though, I have mostly moved on from BT and everything or anyone to do with it. As I said in one of my previous posts. The less attention we give these people, the better.

This means: ignore their posts, block and move on. Start writing some great Buddie fic or make some fanart. Write comments for some fantastic Buddie fanfics. Maybe pop in the DMs of a mutual to discuss the future of Buddie. Reblog theories and add some great tags. Stare at some of those great stills we got. Reread some of the Ryan and Oliver interviews. Do literally anything, but please stop giving these people the attention they want, but don't deserve.

We're here now. That last Oliver interview was the final nail in the BT coffin. We all know it. So let's start thinking and talking about the topics that matter most: Buddie and 911 as a whole, because the show is great and all the other characters deserve some extra love. 🤗

Above all, let's not forget: WE ARE SOOOOO BACK BABY!!!! 😄😄😄

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[geonwooz]

Hii! Could you do a scenario or headcanon of Hong Woo-jin being a father? I'm sorry if it's not understood but English is not my first language haha

♡ WRONG SINCE KINDERGARTEN — HONG WOOJIN

dad!woojin x fem!reader (ft. baby misun) | wc : 0.7k | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, comedy-crack, fluff, dad!woojin being protective (and unreasonable) af | loki's lines : might do some headcanons too!

“okay, baby. i will see to that, but just don’t tell your dad.”

you told your daughter, knowing very well how your husband would react to the news.

so much for keeping it a secret. you mentally slapped yourself, seeing the aforementioned male standing near the doorway, looking at you skeptically.

hong woojin tilted his head in confusion, unwilling to believe his wife and daughter were actually hiding something from him.

“don’t tell me what?” he asked, immediately turning towards your daughter when you didn’t answer. “what is it, misun-ah?” the smile on his face brightened, and you bit your lip, knowing it was a tactic to get the news out of your child.

deceive her into thinking you are not mad, and then get to know everything.

and of course, the young child took very much after her father, and wasn’t the type to keep things to herself — especially when she had a hard time controlling her expressions and lying.

“a boy kissed me at school today,” she blurted, unaware of the storm she created. “during our break-time.”

woojin’s eyes widened as his mouth fell open, staring in disbelief at you and his daughter.

“i’m sorry? what now?” he scooted closer, crouching near the child as you did. “did i hear that right?” you nodded as he looked towards you, snapping him out of his trance.

“a boy …” misun spoke slowly this time, genuinely believing her father didn’t hear her. “… kissed me … at school.” you sat on the floor, ready to enjoy the show.

“kissed you? where did he kiss you?”

“everywhere.”

“every … where?” woojin’s brows were furrowed, repeating the words he heard multiple times in his head to make sense of it. “where is everywhere?” he had a hard time believing his daughter was kissed at school.

but then again, he also thought about how misun was his daughter and that it was inevitable which such a face that she — but how could this unnamed boy try to steal his beloved misun using kisses?!

“like …” misun trailed off, gesturing to her entire face. “everywhere.”

woojin stood up from his place, turning as he grabbed his keys that were lying around.

“okay, then. let’s go meet him.” he had the most solemn look on his face, and for a second, even you panicked, thinking he’d actually drive to your daughter’s playschool.

“woojin, please don’t–”

“no, no, we must go see him. he needs to know the father of the girl he kissed.” misun looked terrified at her father’s behavior, turning towards you for help. “he needs to know your father is a really good boxer, misun-ah. should we take uncle gunwoo with us too?” 

you sat there speechless, covering your face with your hands as you contemplated the life choices you made to get married to him.

“stop it, woojin!” you held your daughter close, covering her, so she didn’t have to see the extravagantly exaggerated expressions he did. “you are scaring her with your overreacting,” you complained, pursing your lips as he frowned.

the male took a deep breath as he held out his hands for his daughter to hold. “did you kiss him back, misun-ah? you didn’t, right?” he inquired, causing your mouth to fall open as your eyes widened. 

misun had the same expression as you — except hers was more of disgust while you were shocked. “of course, i didn’t! ew, boys are gross. yuck!” she shuddered, bringing the biggest smile onto woojin’s face.

“yes! boys are gross! totally yuck!” he smiled as he spoke, playing with your daughter’s hands. “never kiss them, okay? at least until you are older.” 

the last few words were under a whisper barely audible.

you held misun’s face, giving her a little smile. “yep, and the yuckiest one of them all is your father.” you and your daughter laughed at the joke you made, especially with the ‘hmph’ you got out of woojin.

“now go change so we can go to the park!” you hurried your daughter, smiling fondly as she ran to her room before turning to look at the grumpy male beside you.

“me? the yuckiest one? really?”

“you said it yourself; boys are yucky.”

woojin cracked a smile, chuckling as he stared at you. “i never thought i’d have to worry about misun kissing anyone at such a young age. kids move so fast these days.” he shook his head. 

“kissing has always been normal, jagiya.” you teasingly patted his head. “even kindergartners back in my days did.” you hid your laugh as woojin furrowed his brows, twice as confused as he was before.

“well, i might’ve been doing all this wrong since kindergarten then.”

TAGLIST :: @missscarlettangel (TO BE ADDED, PLEASE COMMENT, SEND AN ASK OR DM!)

[snapghoul]

Heyyy. I've been so obsessed with the seresin twins. They've taken over my life, and I love it.

I've got a question, though. How did Tyler react to Jake coming out? Gimme all the headconnons.

Me too, I’ve been consumed by them and I will gladly share them for those who love em ❤️

How Jake’s coming out was a lot far less rocky than he’d originally thought.

Note: writing snarky banter between Bradley and Jake is so hard like it looks cringy to me but then I remember how cheesy their banter was in the movie and I feel better about it.

Warnings: foul language, internalized homophobia and homophobia

Jake had always sensed that he wasn’t attracted to women. Growing up in a small Texas town, he had a few girlfriends, but none of those relationships ever felt right. He dated primarily to fit in, rather than out of genuine interest. While he could acknowledge that some girls were conventionally attractive, he never felt any real attraction.

His first kiss with a girl, in freshman year of high school, was a moment of clarity for him—it didn't feel right, but he initially chalked it up to inexperience. He tried to replicate the experience several times, hoping it would change.

It wasn't until college that he found himself in a situation where he almost all the way with a girl, only to back out because he felt uncomfortable and disinterested. This experience made him realize he wasn’t into women at all. It was shortly after this that he shared his first kiss with a guy, which felt more genuine and right.

He remained closeted to his parents for two years.

Jake was relieved to find that his parents were surprisingly accepting when he finally mustered the courage to come out. As he fought back tears, his mother reassured him, “I already knew, dear. As long as you find someone who loves and cares for you, I’m happy to welcome them.”

His father’s response was a bit more blunt but equally supportive: “The second they lay a hand on you, I’m grabbing the shotgun.”

Not everyone was accepting at Sophia’s wedding. A few aunts, uncles, and cousins cast disapproving glances and made hurtful comments as Jake’s boyfriend stood by his side, their arms linked. Sophia did her best to keep the comments away from Jake but in the end he experienced his first true heartbreak after that, his boyfriend breaking up with him due to the homophobia in his family.

But Tyler had always been different. He’d known something was up the moment Jake came home after his first kiss with a girl, he saw the hint of confusion and disgust in his eyes. Although he didn’t have a name for it back then, he recognized that girls weren’t for his brother. Tyler was also the first person Jake called at 2 a.m. when he was overwhelmed.

“Ty, I just—I kissed a guy, and honestly, I think I’m gay, and I don’t know what to do. Shit, Ma and Dad are gonna be pissed—”

“Jake, slow down and breathe,” Tyler said. He stayed up until 6 a.m., helping Jake calm down and reassuring him that everything would be okay.

“Ty, do you care that I might be—no, that I am gay?” Jake asked shakily, fearing his twin’s reaction.

“No, Jake, I don’t. Honestly, I’ve had my suspicions for a while, and I don’t care who you love. Remember Mr. Henes and Mr. Wright?”

“Yeah, they ran the rodeo… wait really?”

“Yup, and they’ve been married for thirty years, that explains some of the looks they got but they didn’t care! They did their thing and let no one stop them. Jake, why should it matter that you like guys?”

“I don’t know… because it’s not right?”

“No, you know what ain’t right? Telling people who they can or can’t love. That includes you. If you like him and he makes you happy, then go for it. If you feel it, chase it!”

“Christ, what kind of cheesy movie did you pull that from? ‘If you feel it, chase it?’”

“I actually just made it up. I like it, though. It can apply to a lotta things.”

Jake chuckled, and they sat in silence for a moment.

“Want to hear about the field science I’m doing? My class has us studying cloud microphysics, so I’m just walking around taking pictures of the sky. It’s actually pretty fun! I’d much rather be out here than stuck in a stuffy classroom.”

Without missing a beat, Tyler shifted the conversation from Jake’s anxiety, taking it with him and letting the moment of calm settle between them.

Bonus: Jake panics over a certain chicken.

Jake tried to keep his cool, reminding himself, Play it cool, play it cool, Jake. He’s watching! Holy shit he’s coming over!

Bradley fucking Bradshaw had an uncanny ability to fluster Jake, driving him insane. There was something about the guy that made Jake lose his composure. Jake had felt this before, but never to this extent; the way Bradley moved, talked, and just existed made Jake feel cornered. When Jake felt cornered, he relied on his greatest defense: his offense.

“Y’know, Rooster, if you’d just hop off that perch of yours, maybe you’d actually be a decent pilot. Instead, you just sit there, waiting for something that never comes.”

Bradley’s expression darkened, his frustration clear as his feathers metaphorically ruffled at Jake’s jabs.

Seriously!? Rooster?! What kind of name is that? Not cool! Not cool! Don’t piss him off! Jake thought, desperately trying to regain his composure.

Wait, why is that look kinda hot? No! No! Jake, stop it! But damn, he looks good.

Bradley’s irritation flared. “If only you’d stop leaving your wingman hanging, Hangman. Maybe you’d actually get someone who feels comfortable enough to fly with you. But hey, no one wants to fly with a wingman who hangs them out to dry.”

Jake’s jaw tightened as Bradley closed in on him. Hangman?! I don’t leave them hanging! I always come back…

Bradley’s proximity made Jake’s heart race. Holy shit—he’s much bigger up close. Jake tried to focus on not letting his growing attraction show, but it was getting harder by the second.

Bradley took Jake’s silence as a victory and gave him a hard shoulder check as he walked by. That was the moment Rooster and Hangman were born—along with Jake’s frustrating attraction to Bradley Bradshaw.