#never thought a thing like that would actually happen

[miriani-lavellan]

Ahh, Lucanis. So let me first say, his scenes make total sense and I'm happy with what we got - we all want more from our faves, but they did manage to compact a lot of trauma and resolution in some fairly compact quests. Here's what I think happened that wasn't made explicitly clear though:

Lucanis chooses the pantry to sleep in because he's been imprisoned and tortured for a year, and he's not ready to leave captivity yet, not inside his head. He locks himself in there because it's familiar misery to him, which is easier to deal with than scary freedom.

Lucanis' letter to Rook before he asks Emmrich to bring Zara back for questioning tells us he's suicidal at that point, and probably has been for a while. Spite, however, doesn't see him as a lost cause - he never uses that to take over Lucanis' body entirely. This is so interesting to me, when we know things like that pretty famously happen all the time in Thedas. He's determined to keep Lucanis alive - and he asks for Rook's help in doing so.

We are in the NORTH now BABY! Attitudes towards spirits and demons are different here, especially in Rivain, and it seems with our Rook too, who never expresses any chantry-esque hang ups (that I've seen). Seer Rowan greets Spite as Determination, and that's how he's introduced by Isabela (with some excitement) if you fight in the hall of Valor. What happened to Spite is just as sad as what happened to Lucanis. He was violated, perhaps corrupted, and definitely trapped - and hurts Lucanis sometimes in his frustration. But, I think he likes Lucanis! He's his host's little head gremlin, and I think the relationship they have (that we don't see too much of) is healthier than any of the possessed individuals we've seen before.

Because? Lucanis is not a spiteful person. He wants revenge, yes, and he's angry, but he doesn't hurt everyone around him because he's in pain. One of the first things he does when he becomes part of the team is go shopping for them. And despite how Ilario and Caterina have hurt him - and you can argue all day whether he's right to be like this - he still cares for them.

I think that when we help Lucanis leave the prison inside his head, we are helping Spite to return to his original nature as Determination just a little more. We're determined to help our friend, and you know what? Spite is too. For himself, firstly, because Lucanis's pain is hurting him, but in the end, he's done it for Lucanis too. There's an argument there that Determination didn't get corrupted at all - just hurt, and that Lucanis, with his loving nature, has been keeping him from turning into a mindless demon of pain.

I thought for a long time that when Lucanis breaks away from kissing Rook, it was because Spite said something horrible to him. But actually, I think it was Lucanis himself, remembering how trapped he is. Thinking about the eventuality of killing himself - I strongly suspect that's what he was thinking about before he fell asleep, and that's why Spite was trying to go walkabout - trying to get out from where Lucanis can't. Lucanis got lost in the moment, but of course he doesn't want to drag Rook into that.

Lucanis making dessert for Rook and thinking that's the same as asking them out (but not actually asking them out) is so completely on brand for him I laughed. He has no idea what he's doing. It would have been nice, though, for Rook to reply to one of the companion's 'so you're together?' banters with... 'we are?' Or for Rook to be able to ask him. Unfortunately, we don't get those convos where we can spam ask questions etc like in DA:I - I did wonder if that got cut and we missed some resolution to that.

Lucanis gives no shits about everyone knowing he's Rook's love interest. He's not ashamed of himself or scared he'll hurt them - Rook has helped both him and Spite. And judging by the way Spite's wings come out to embrace Rook as they kiss Lucanis, I suspect that Spite might love them, too.

[drunkinyourbenz]

YOU DON'T REALLY NEED A BREAK

☆ SYNOPSIS: in which billie is stressed, so naturally she needs you more than ever. unbenkownst to her, she takes it too far. ☆ PART ONE ☆ RELATIONSHIP: dom!billie eilish x fem!reader ☆ WARNINGS: SMUT, use of safe word, angst, fluff, comfort, mean billie, reader is a little bratty, situationship/fwb, angry sex, crying, strap-on, edging, degradation, petnames, name calling (slut, whore, brat, etc.), choking, hair pulling, humiliation, dumbification, toxic dynamic (except less so because billie's realising things hehe), unedited. ☆ REQUESTED: yes, by a bunch of anons ☆ NOTE: y'all read my mind with these reqeusts i was already thinking of writing a part two abt exactly this and you all had the same idea!! sorry this took so long lmao exams are kicking my ass :/ this is very unedited sorry for any mistakes i read it through once and then posted it lmao read part one first for it to make more sense ☆ WORD COUNT: 3.5k words

billie hadn’t texted you in a little over a week, and you almost thought that she wasn’t ever going to again. the last time you’d seen her had ended like all of the other nights, she’d cleaned you up and then left you alone in the silent hotel room. usually, she’d text afterwards, just to make sure you were feeling okay, but there was nothing. the last text between the two of you was when you’d asked where she was when she was late that night. 

the two of you normally hooked up at least a few times a week, and you’d never actually gone a week without her since you started this four months ago.

you thought the worst: someone else had replaced you as her favourite. you’d always thought it would happen, but you thought you might have a few more times before it was over. but from the looks of it, you weren’t ever going to see her again. 

which was fine, obviously. you didn’t care—or that’s what you kept telling yourself. you had agreed to a no-commitment thing when you two started whatever this was, and she could do whatever she wanted. it stung a little bit that she wasn’t doing you, but ultimately, there was nothing you could do about it. 

so when you got home from a long day, thoroughly exhausted, your plan for the night was to hide in your bed and watch 2000s tv shows until you passed out. you showered, taking your time to wash your hair and feeling your tense and tired muscles relax under the hot stream of water. once out of the shower, you changed into some comfortable clothes, flopping down on your bed in relief. you were ready to finally just cuddle up under the blankets like you’d been wishing you could do all day.

about eleven minutes into the gilmore girls episode you were up to—rewatching for the hundredth time—your phone pinged, and you almost just ignored it, but you picked it up with a groan. 

your eyes widened when you saw it was from billie, the last number you expected to text. your heart almost skipped a beat.

billie: come over?

you paused for a moment, conflicted. you truly were exhausted, and it had been such a long day, and all you wanted to do was sleep, you honestly weren’t in the mood for what you knew billie would want. but… it was billie. 

so, inevitably, you ended up at her door. you were still in the clothes you’d changed into the moment you got home, just some comfortable sweatpants and a top—billie wouldn’t care about what you wore, she wanted you to be comfortable. plus, you knew full well that you wouldn’t be wearing them for long. 

you knocked on the door, and it opened within mere seconds, almost as if billie had been waiting by the door for you to show up. from the look on her face, you wouldn’t be surprised. she looked stressed, angry, and desperate. you looked her up and down, your eyes settling on her face. she was wearing a pretty similar outfit to you, sweatpants that hung low on her hips, the “HIT ME HARD AND SOFT” waistband of her boxers peeking out, and a white tank top that you could see the slight hint of her nipples peeking through. her arms were bare and your eyes seemed to gravitate towards the toned muscles there, which never failed to make your brain short circuit. paired with the noticeable outline of her strap in her pants, it was almost too much for you to take. 

you noticed the way her eyebrows were slightly furrowed and her eyes were narrowed in a firm gaze, the frustration was clear on her face. “rough day?” 

she groaned, and when she spoke, her voice had a slight rasp to it, “you have no idea.” 

the two of you fell into silence, just staring at each other for a few long moments. it wasn’t a comfortable silence, it was one that hung in the air around you, a claustrophobic silence. there were words left unspoken between the two of you that poked their heads around the corner but never truly revealed itself, it left you wondering when it would snap, but it never did. the two of you stared at each other for what felt like lifetimes, you waiting for billie to do something, and billie simply savouring the feeling of having you in front of her again. 

finally, she spoke, her voice still holding that same raspiness—which alone could get you on your knees for her. “it’s pathetic that you’re here so fast, considering i ghosted you for a week. you’re just a desperate slut for me, aren’t you? not that you’d be good for anything else.”

the bluntness of her words sent a chill down your spine, this was exactly what you’d expected. why else would billie text you after a week of not talking, if not to use her favourite girl? 

billie continued talking before you could even get a word in, it was like she’d read your thoughts. she leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear as she spoke, “you know i could just call over any of my girls and they’d be here in a heartbeat, and they’d be exactly the same. pathetic, desperate, and begging.”

you raised an eyebrow at her words. you knew what she was doing, trying to wind you up, get you to act out. you had honestly intended to just be her good girl tonight because you were so tired, but you knew she adored it when you acted up. so you spoke with the bratty tone you knew she loved.

“sure you could. but none of them are here now, are they? you called me.” 

the brattiness, especially when she was in a mood like this, made her eyes light up. your brattiness was her favourite thing, she loved it when you gave her an excuse to be harsher and meaner than she was on a normal day. so, when you talked back to her, she lets out a dark laugh. “don’t fuckin’ test me, mama.” 

you let a soft scoff fall past your lips, “or what?” 

“you know i’ll put you in your place, i’ve done it before.” and then you realised, this was what set you apart. this was why you were her favourite. you weren’t afraid to act up, so she didn’t have to be afraid of taking it too far. she could push you, because you pushed her. “maybe you should. you want to blow off steam, don’t you?”

at your words, her lips twitched upwards into a slight, barely noticeable smirk. you knew she would be taking them as a challenge, “you’re gonna have to drop the bratty attitude eventually, mamas.”

“maybe you should make me.”

that was exactly what she wanted—she wanted you to keep going, keep winding her up. she wanted you to give her a reason to pin you down and tear you apart; and you gave her that reason with that simple suggestion.

she took your wrist in her hand, her grip almost painful as she tugged you behind her to her bedroom. the air felt different than it normally did when you were here, everything felt so tense. her entire body language screamed irritated, dominant. but it wasn’t the normal kind of dominance she normally exuded. billie always had this kind of casual dominance that just hung around her, her presence was just effortlessly assertive. this is different, she had a look in her eyes you hadn’t seen before—she was always mean, but this was her normal level of mean times ten. 

she was clearly in a whole new headspace, not one you were familiar with. this wasn’t just dominant, wasn’t just mean, no, it was something else. she wasn’t just a little stressed, she didn’t just have a little bit of frustration she needed to take out on you, this was worse. it was an almost animalistic kind of energy, one that’s so raw, so intense, you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk by the time she was finished with you.

she took one of the belts from her merch from her dresser, shoving you backwards onto the bed and tying your hands to the headboard. she tugged it slightly, making sure it was firm but not too tight. it sent a rush of excitement through you, and you knew she felt the same. 

“gonna use you, mamas,” you knew from those words that she was going to absolutely ruin you, and you could tell by the look in her eyes.

sure enough, no more than five minutes later, she had her strap deep inside of you and was pounding into you at a bruising pace. the strap was bigger than the one she usually used, and it made you ache with a constant stinging pain. she hadn’t given you any time to adjust, and had started as she meant to go on. you were naked and on her bed, with her on top of you, fucking into you at a brutal pace. your hands were still tied up with her belt and the ache it brought only amplified the pleasure. one of her hands had your hair in a firm grasp, solely to make you feel the sting of pain it brought. she wanted to bring you to tears. her other hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it before letting her hand fall down on your ass in a harsh slap. 

the intense pleasure of her cock inside you and her finger circling your clit was a perfect contrast to the pain her hands brought you, and a trail of moans fell from your lips. “b-billie-” 

a mean, almost cruel laugh left her lips, “god, you’re such a slut.” another slap landed on your ass, “it’s pathetic, really. i mean, i can ghost you for as long as i want,” another slap. “and you’re still at my door in five minutes as soon as i ask.” slap, “pathetic fuckin’ whore.” 

you whined, which simply made her laugh. in her own sadistic way, she was enjoying this. 

this continued for what felt like hours—maybe it was, you had no idea. every time you got slightly close to your orgasm, she’d pull out, tugging you away from the edge. by now, you had tears rolling down your cheeks, and the fine line between pleasure and pain was slowly but surely being crossed. 

“fuckin’ take it,” she breathed. “god, you look so dumb around my cock. all you’re good for, hm? spreading your legs and taking it like the slut you are?”

you whimpered, and she simply slapped your ass again. 

this continued for much longer, and she wasn’t even mad at you for being bratty, not in the slightest. she just needed an outlet for her bad mood, and that was what you were. merely a way for her to release her frustrations. 

you let out a choked sob, your body trembling, “billie, please, i can’t—” 

you knew she wasn’t doing this because she had anything against you, there had been something deeply wrong with her day. she had never been this downright cruel before, and you knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t act like this without reason. but it was too much, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. she hadn’t asked for your colour even once tonight, and that thought alone was putting you on edge. sure, her being rough turned you on, but right now it was scaring you just as much. this was darker than you’d experienced in all four months of your friends with benefits situation with her, and you weren’t sure if you liked it. 

you felt the strap hit your most sensitive spot, and you let out a sound that was a mix of a moan and a sob. “billie–” 

“like being used by me, yeah? taking everything i give you like a slut?”

you weren’t sure when you realised that you actually weren’t enjoying it anymore, but it was obvious all of a sudden. it hurt, and not in a good way. you were exhausted from both your day and the sheer amount of time she’d been edging you for. the way your arms had been tied to the bed for so long was making them ache painfully, and at some point down the line, your tears of pleasure had turned into tears of pain. 

you normally had the safety net of knowing that she was paying attention to your signals, knowing that she didn’t want to hurt you. but it didn’t even feel like she was aware of what she was doing, she was so caught up in herself and drowning out her own frustrations. you hated that lack of awareness, it was like she wouldn’t even notice if she actually hurt you. 

she looked like she was about to speak again, so before she could get out another degrading comment, you gasped out, “red, billie–”

whatever half formed sentence billie had been about to say died on her tongue, your gasped words making her freeze inside of you. her mind suddenly went silent, her frustrated thoughts about her day coming to a halt as she looked down at you with wide, almost scared eyes. you’d never actually used your safeword—obviously it was something that the two of you had communicated, but billie had never expected to actually go too far, to push you to that. she was meant to check in on your colours, and she felt an intense pang of guilt when she realised that she hadn’t done that. 

as she looked at you, noticing the tears and the exhausted expression, as well as the way your wrists were visibly sore from being tied for so long, she felt a sense of dread. she was overcome with shame and she didn’t know what to do about it. her breath caught in her throat as she processed what was going on.

“shit, i’m so sorry.” after a moment, she shook herself out of her paralysed shock, she would’ve pulled out immediately, but she was aware that that would just hurt you even more. so she leaned over, quickly untying the belt around your wrists and letting it fall to the ground beside the bed. she massaged your wrists gently for a moment, trying to soothe you. 

her hands moved over your tense muscles, trying to ease some of the soreness. she brushed some of your hair out of your eyes, her touch soft and cautious. “i-i’m so sorry, baby. i never wanted to push you that far.”

you knew that. you knew that she would never actually intend to hurt you, you knew that she wasn’t herself. you didn’t need her to over explain herself, you just needed her to hold you. the hand that had been pushing your hair out of your eyes moved to stroke your cheek, and you could see the intense guilt in her eyes. 

“i’m gonna pull out now, okay?” her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, eyes fixed on your face. 

you simply nodded, hissing slightly in pain as she gently pulled the strap out of you. billie felt her stomach twist at your obvious pain, knowing that she had done that. “i know, i’m so sorry.”

once she was out of you, she climbed off you and gently shifted you so you were sitting further up the bed, propped up on the pillows slightly. her mind was clearly racing with what she could do to help, “do you need anything? water, food, whatever?”

you shook your head softly. if your brain hadn’t been so exhausted, you probably would have thought more rationally about this. but you didn’t, and you didn’t once consider the limited affection in your dynamic. “can you just hold me?” 

billie didn’t hesitate, she just nodded instantly. “yeah, of course i can.” she joined you further up the bed, pulling you into her arms. she held you against her chest gently, her fingers soothingly running through your hair while her hand rubbed your back softly. 

you could hear her heartbeat, it was fast and a clear reminder of how stressed she was. you spoke softly, “it’s okay, seriously.”

but it wasn’t okay, not to billie. she had hurt you, she had pushed you too far, even when you were already clearly tired. she should’ve known better, and the guilt was weighing down from her and eating her up from the inside. not to mention she was terrified that this might be your last straw, that you might never want to see her again, that she might have broken your trust. wondering why she cared so much about her casual fling’s feelings was something that would have left her perplexed on any other day, but it was not currently at the forefront of her mind. “but–”

“it’s okay.” you said firmly, “i wouldn’t be asking you to hold me if i was uncomfortable around you.” 

those words seemed to ease billie’s nerves slightly, and she tightened her arms around you, holding you close. after a few minutes of this, she gently pulled you to sit in your lap, and you shifted so that your head was buried in the crook of her neck. you could feel her breathing on your skin, and you could feel her chest rising and falling with each breath. it was incredibly grounding, the feeling of just being close to her. ever so slowly, you felt your breathing calm and your heart rate slow down. 

at least an hour passed as you were just laying there in her arms, your breathing syncing with hers as her fingers ran through your hair. it was a foreign thing, for the two of you to be this close without sex, but it felt so right. it was like you were made to be in her arms, despite the situation that had brought you here. you could sense her guilt, and if you’d been a bit more aware of what was going on, you probably would’ve realised that there was something more behind that guilt—something deeper than just feeling bad for pushing you. but you were unaware, it wasn’t really what took place at the front of your mind. 

the room was filled with only the sound of both of you breathing, and your mind was taken over by the calming feeling of her playing with your hair. after a while, she broke the silence. “d’you wanna borrow something to wear?” 

you couldn’t deny that you liked the feeling of this skin to skin contact, but you also knew that it was a good idea. so you nodded quietly, and she delicately lifted you off her lap and set you down on the bed. she walked over and grabbed you an oversized t-shirt to wear, and she walked into the ensuite to grab a damp cloth. she came back over and gently wiped your thighs with the cloth, at this point you didn’t flinch too much because it had been so long. she held out the t-shirt, which you recognised as one she had worn at some point.

“arms up, darling.” that was a new pet name, but you didn’t comment. instead, you just lifted your arms and allowed her to slip the top over your head. it smelt like her, which somehow just added to the comfort. 

soon enough, she was back on the bed and you were back in her arms. she was laying down and you were laying with her, partly on top of her and partly just cuddled up to her side. this hadn’t happened before between the two of you, but you certainly weren’t complaining. her bed was comfortable, and her arms around you felt like a cocoon you never wanted to grow out of. 

gradually, your breathing started to slow as the exhaustion caught up on you, both from the recent events and your already tiring day. your head slumped onto her shoulder as a yawn fell from your lips, to which billie smiled softly. 

“do you want to stay the night?” 

that was not something you’d ever expected billie to say, but you hummed softly against her shoulder. “if that’s okay, yeah.”

you could’ve sworn you heard a sigh of relief from billie, “of course it’s okay, please stay. i want you to stay.” 

and so you did. you stayed that night, wrapped up in billie’s arms. it was so new, but it felt so right. that night had been an irreversible shift in your relationship, for both obvious reasons and more hidden ones. you knew that the two of you would have to talk about some stuff in the morning, and you knew you’d have to set some more boundaries. but you also felt closer to her than you ever had, somehow. 

little did you know, that night was just as  meaningful for billie as it was for you. she had had a revelation, one that she would likely keep to herself for a while, although there was no doubt you would find out eventually. 

but there was no doubt that billie wanted you to stay, longer than she’d ever thought.

[nowaytoheaven2]

you spent most of your time in your room/alone, not because you wanted to, but because it was the safest thing to do

you had to worry about whether you’d be able to eat safely that day, or if you’d be met with insults, attacks and/or being chased away from food

you wanted to inflict harm onto yourself and felt it was normal to want to harm you

you inflicted harm onto your body

you spent a long time having imaginary conversations in your head where you tried to prove somehow that you were not as bad as everyone make it seem, or that someone cares about you

you sank into obsessions in order to get thru whatever was going on

you felt as if you were barely making it thru, and if there was just one more thing you’d have to deal with, you wouldn’t be able to take it

you had wild fantasies about someone taking you away from all of this and taking you somewhere safe where you wouldn’t be despised

you never felt at home, you felt like you didn’t have a home

you looked for every possible place to hide, in order to feel safe for a little while, both to keep your enjoyment secret and in case of a danger, you needed to have a hiding place

you were scared of all of your enjoyment being taken away the second people found out

you had to spend more time doing chores or taking care of others, than you could spend developing your own friendships and life

you felt inexplicably and endlessly lonely, you dreamed of one day having friends and it felt unreachable, impossible, like asking for too much

you never cried, or hid when you cried, feeling ashamed and weak

you over-indulged into a tv show, or a computer game, or a piece of media, to the point where it didn’t feel like you lived at all unless you were interacting with it

sometimes the insults and the shaming you endured got to you to the point where you believed things would be better if you didn’t exist

you were constantly trying to check if your parents actually cared for you or not, and took any tiny hint of attention, even negative attention, as a possible proof that they might care, but you could never know for sure which it was

you were scared of getting abandoned, getting kicked out of the house, getting left on the street, you even tried to plan what you would do if it happened

you had moments when you felt like the worst person to ever live

you thought about ending your life, to stop the pain 

you felt guilt and shame so large, you thought there was nothing in the world that could possibly redeem you

you ran to hide when your family member would come home, you couldn’t bear being seen in ‘their part of the house’ (living room, dining room)

you were reluctant to admit anything that was bothering you to your parents or caretakers, because you already knew they would either blame you, or use it against you

you spiraled into dark thoughts, all on your own, telling no one

you experienced feeling so numb and lifeless, you didn’t know what was wrong with you, and it scared you

you couldn’t imagine yourself going far in the future, or accomplishing much at all, you felt it would be a miracle if you’re alive later on

you tried to blame yourself for anything that had ever happened to you, trying to get control over it, trying to make it so it doesn’t happen again

you got into media that is restricted for children (extreme violence, gruesome horror and gore, sexually explicit and sexually violent materials) and you absorbed it and told no one about it

you endured being harassed or violated by a predator and told no one about it

you were constantly scared of what everyone else was thinking and saying about you

you were ashamed of things you did and said and worried endlessly that somehow you caused something bad to happen

you felt as if your worst fear would always, always come true

signs you were not doing well as a child:

you spent most of your time in your room/alone, not because you wanted to, but because it was the safest thing to do

you had to worry about whether you’d be able to eat safely that day, or if you’d be met with insults, attacks and/or being chased away from food

you wanted to inflict harm onto yourself and felt it was normal to want to harm you

you inflicted harm onto your body

you spent a long time having imaginary conversations in your head where you tried to prove somehow that you were not as bad as everyone make it seem, or that someone cares about you

you sank into obsessions in order to get thru whatever was going on

you felt as if you were barely making it thru, and if there was just one more thing you’d have to deal with, you wouldn’t be able to take it

you had wild fantasies about someone taking you away from all of this and taking you somewhere safe where you wouldn’t be despised

you never felt at home, you felt like you didn’t have a home

you looked for every possible place to hide, in order to feel safe for a little while, both to keep your enjoyment secret and in case of a danger, you needed to have a hiding place

you were scared of all of your enjoyment being taken away the second people found out

you had to spend more time doing chores or taking care of others, than you could spend developing your own friendships and life

you felt inexplicably and endlessly lonely, you dreamed of one day having friends and it felt unreachable, impossible, like asking for too much

you never cried, or hid when you cried, feeling ashamed and weak

you over-indulged into a tv show, or a computer game, or a piece of media, to the point where it didn’t feel like you lived at all unless you were interacting with it

sometimes the insults and the shaming you endured got to you to the point where you believed things would be better if you didn’t exist

you were constantly trying to check if your parents actually cared for you or not, and took any tiny hint of attention, even negative attention, as a possible proof that they might care, but you could never know for sure which it was

you were scared of getting abandoned, getting kicked out of the house, getting left on the street, you even tried to plan what you would do if it happened

you had moments when you felt like the worst person to ever live

you thought about ending your life, to stop the pain 

you felt guilt and shame so large, you thought there was nothing in the world that could possibly redeem you

you ran to hide when your family member would come home, you couldn’t bear being seen in ‘their part of the house’ (living room, dining room)

you were reluctant to admit anything that was bothering you to your parents or caretakers, because you already knew they would either blame you, or use it against you

you spiraled into dark thoughts, all on your own, telling no one

you experienced feeling so numb and lifeless, you didn’t know what was wrong with you, and it scared you

you couldn’t imagine yourself going far in the future, or accomplishing much at all, you felt it would be a miracle if you’re alive later on

you tried to blame yourself for anything that had ever happened to you, trying to get control over it, trying to make it so it doesn’t happen again

you got into media that is restricted for children (extreme violence, gruesome horror and gore, sexually explicit and sexually violent materials) and you absorbed it and told no one about it

you endured being harassed or violated by a predator and told no one about it

you were constantly scared of what everyone else was thinking and saying about you

you were ashamed of things you did and said and worried endlessly that somehow you caused something bad to happen

you felt as if your worst fear would always, always come true

[dwaekkicidal]

free use with a frustrated minho <3

wc» 1k

cw» fem!reader, free use, rough sex, slightly mean dom min?, some dirty talk, p in v, multiple creampies, oral (both f and m receiving), 1 mention of shower sex, 1 mention of somno

an» take this minho hard thought that i forgot to post earlier this week as a double post bc the chan.in x reader is fucking 2k words and im still not done yet lol... ><

“This literally never happens. Why did this have to happen?? I practiced this dance for fucking HOURS.” You surprisingly miss your boyfriend's indecipherable mumbles and continue to watch your TV.

Minho walked through the front door less than 5 minutes ago and is still sporting his stage outfit and makeup. He plays the part of some sort of lunatic all too well when he’s pacing back and forth and mumbling incoherent curses to himself. And you already tried asking him what was wrong- all you got in return was ignored as he slammed his keys on the kitchen counter and began this weird manic spell.

But all of this is in the past now. You eventually came to learn that he slipped up on stage today; you learned that all that fuss was because he kept making minor blunders during the recording of their MNET performance. And although it was a recorded thing, something videoed multiple times anyways and not seen live, and he wasn’t the center during these mistakes, he was still pissed.

Minho does not make mistakes very often, so he was upset that he even made one today. But the fact that he managed multiple across the many hours they spent in that god-awful building made his blood boil. But! Luckily for him, he has this very convenient agreement with his beautiful, lovely girlfriend who just so happens to be you.

And this agreement is exactly how he stopped dead in his tracks as he came to this “revelation” an hour after he had arrived at home. It’s also how the oversized shirt of his you were wearing got lifted up to your chest. He didn’t even blink towards the food you were cooking on the stove before he shoved your panties down your legs and slid himself along your already wet folds.

“Dirty girl. Wet when I’ve not even touched you.” He landed a playful smack to your ass and gave you no time to react before he slid into your walls, stretching you out almost painfully. You were thankful that you fingered yourself just before he got home, so the stretch was more tolerable than it would have been if he went in dry.

Minho ignored your pleas of “The food!! It’s gonna burn!” and “Give me one second, babe!” Instead, he wrapped one of those veiny hands around your throat and squeezed as he started moving his hips. He started off nicely, giving you slow, deep strokes. But he quickly found a different pace, one more to his liking.

And that pace included fucking your brains out, pounding you into the cold kitchen counter. If it wasn’t for the refreshing cold of the ceramic, you think your cheek would get some sort of “rug” burn. Well… you can’t really think anything, not when his hips slam into yours so intensely that you can feel your ass stinging from each thrust.

Although he holds you in place, one hand on your head and the other on your hip, he still gives you more than enough chances to actually stop him if it’s what you want. It comes out in the form of dirty talk as he goes on about how good of a hole you’re being for him and how he should “freely use” you more often.

It’s more of a hint to the recent kink you’ve been discussing, but it doesn’t go over your head, so you nod as best as you can. And, even though he’s pissed off and needs to fuck you into every surfance he sees, he’s not mean enough to leave you high and dry. So he lets you cum right as he does.

You’re barely catching your breath after the fact before he’s pulling out and admiring your messy form; your cheek still firmly against the kitchen counter even though his hand is gone. He manages to pull out and watch his cum leak from you before another revelation hits him. One that encourages him to help you step out of your panties before pocketing them and shoving himself back into his shorts.

One that also encourages his next comments along with the pat on the ass he gives you after the words have sunk into your mushy brain. “You don’t need these anymore. Keep cooking, I’ll be back.”

But don’t worry your pretty little head about it!! He won’t be gone for very long. In fact, you’re in the middle of setting the table with dinner when his hands return to your body, folding you in half and grabbing a handful of your hair as he immediately slides himself back into your walls.

The only “reward” you get is his groans of happiness as he fucks your brains out again, making sure not to leave out the comments here and there about how, “You’re such a good fucktoy. Letting me fuck you whenever and wherever I want.”

And he’s not done there, oh nooo. He’s still fuming about those slip ups from earlier. Now, at this point can he remember exactly what mistakes he made? No. Will that stop him from using you as his personal stress reliever? Absolutely not. So you should expect to be fucked into every and any surface.

So when he disappears to clean up after dinner and you’re returned to your TV for entertainment, he’s gonna walk up nonverbal and drop to his knees. Then, your legs will be lifted from the floor and he’s gonna shove his head between your bare legs, eating you out and even fighting back when you push his head away from you in overstimulation.

Oh and when you’re showering later that night and you let your guard down for a split second to wash yourself off, he’s slipping into the shower and forcing you down to your knees. He’ll get his fill from using your mouth, his favorite fleshlight, and walk out completely soaked like nothing happened.

You may or may not be overstimulated and sensitive to touch by the time you’re laying in bed, and you’ll be lucky if that stops him from taking you one final time. You’re also lucky if he’s mad enough to let it sink into the next day. If he is, he’ll go as far as to repeat positions/situations from the previous day.

Oh but don’t be mistaken! All of that isn’t happening until after he’s waking you up with a nice, warm, homemade filling.

[babyslutbuck]

it's just so clear how little they care about or know buck outside of this relationship that they decided was more than it actually was when they're like "why didn't buck fight for him??????" well buck has never fought for a relationship once in his life he just stands there and lets things happen to him and you would KNOW that if you cared about buck's beautiful issues and problems and neuroses more than u cared about the bad fanfiction you wrote in your head. i'm sorry you thought tommy cured buck with bisexuality and his dick but buck is still a FREAK actually. SORRY.

[wstviewvidal]

birthday- w. maximoff

pairing: fwb!wanda x reader

summary: misunderstandings can change things.

a/n: hi all! i hope yall are good! i wrote this a little bit after the first part came out. i love angst! unsure if i want a third part. also, if you don’t like this literally don’t tell me because im sensitive and cry easily

minors do not interact

“i assumed you would’ve confessed to wanda by now” natasha says as she fixes a pile of papers on your desk, “you know, since you’re head over heels for her”

nat smirks as you give her the side eye and roll your eyes, you swivel your chair towards her.

“i’m not head over heels for her. i’m ju-“

“stupid?”

narrowing your eyes and tilting your head to the side, “okay, no”

meeting natasha was by far one of the greatest strokes of luck in your life. sure, she could be blunt at times— but when it comes down to it, she tells you what you need to hear.

unfortunately, this was also one of those times.

she has constantly insisted on the idea that you need to muster up the courage to tell wanda about your feelings for her. she always says that she believes wanda feels the same towards you, but your insecurities and doubt always get in the way.

except this would actually be the second time you confess, not the first. not that you even are aware of that fact.

you don’t really recall the first time you told wanda how you felt about her. you were drunk at a party, and only wanda has a clear memory of it. however, out of respect for you and your ability to get embarrassed quickly, wanda never brought it up again.

“i just feel like it’s a losing game, you know?” you say softly, rubbing your temples, “i always thought that if one of us were to tell the other if we caught feelings, it would be her. she’s always been more upfront with her emotions than i have. i think she really only sees me as what we’d agreed upon, nat. what if im just a way for her to pass time?

you pout softly, your emotions now coming forth in front of your long time friend and colleague.

“i just feel like she treats me like a girlfriend some days, and other days it’s just,” you take in a deep breath and groan out of frustration, “other days she tells me about a girl she saw, or someone she matched with on a dating app. do you know what i mean? i get mixed signals sometimes”

nat looks at you with a sympathetic look on her face, biting her lip slightly to keep from saying anything she really shouldn’t.

truth is, nat always had an feeling that you two would end up together one way or another, she’s always rooted for you two. the only way that could happen is if the two of you get your head out of your asses. in fact, she’d tried to get wanda to come forth about her own feelings.

however, wanda was dating someone at the time of said conversation— and out of respect for her then partner, wanda kept her quiet and buried her feelings deep inside. timing has never been on your side, will it ever?

“i don’t know if there’s anything i can say to get you to tell her, but,” she raises her eyebrows and makes her voice firm to try to emphasize her point, “all i can say is that wanda is a beautiful girl who’s got brains and a personality on her. she won’t be around forever. you know you won’t forgive yourself if you don’t at least try with her”

there it is, the brutal truth you knew that natasha was going to throw at you— and what sucks the most is the fact that it’s exactly what you needed to hear.

wanda has had to call off your agreement on a few occasions because she’d gotten serious with two girls; and each time it’d left you sobbing in natasha’s arms in her apartment because you couldn’t fathom the thought of wanda with another girl.

with a soft nod, “how should i even do that? or when?”

natasha begins another one of her long speeches about how you could be losing the person who could be the one, emphasizing how you’d be the one at fault if you let her get away.

on the drive home, you can’t help but replay natasha’s words in your mind, you aren’t sure why they they’re resonating this specific time.

“don’t wait too long, you know. you never know who could come along and sweep her off her feet. that’ll be the last time you have wanda like how you have her now”

those specific words echo in your head as you get home, unsure why they’re weighing heavy on your chest this time.

sighing softly, “come on, baby, i need to get you home,” wanda says as she guides you to her car with her hand guiding you by the lower back. she had your purse and coat in her other hand, ensuring she’d grabbed everything you’d brought with you.

you two were finally at the end of the road, officially a month from graduating college and decided to attend one last party together before you were thrown into the deep end of adulthood.

you had a few too many to drink that night and wanda knew by the fourth drink and the way you couldn’t keep your hands off of her, she had to get you home safely before you ran off somewhere as soon as she took her eyes off of you.

you reached for the handle of the car door before having your hand gently smacked away.

“you know better than that,” she started softly before opening the door for you and allowing you to get comfortable in her passenger seat. wanda knew you hated having your heels on in the car, so she crouched down to remove them before giving you a quick kiss to the cheek.

wanda pulls back gently to look at your face, your glazed eyes looking back at her with a look of.. adoration?

she smiles softly and places a gentle hand on the side of your face, “you’re beautiful”

rolling your eyes and trying to hide your blush, you giggle and nudge her shoulder in a playful manner.

wanda chuckles at how you’re easy to fluster with just two words. placing another small kiss to your cheek, she closes the passenger door.

you watched as she rounded the car and get into the drivers seat with low lidded glazed eyes, a small crooked smile on your face as you watch her. the maroon mid length dress she wore was nothing short of elegant. her curled dark hair and light makeup enhanced her features so beautifully that you feared you’d somehow spill your guts to her if she made one more right move.

but you couldn’t. wanda was seeing someone— granted, it wasn’t serious nor do you think they’d even slept together, but you were terrified of being that girl.

in fact, you were too. you had been seeing maria from your public policy course for the past two months but you could never bring yourself to feel for her what you so deeply felt for wanda. you two had a mutual break up a few days later.

wanda enters the car and shrugs off her coat, her arm muscles now showing even more with the street light illuminating the inside of the car in a specific way. she fixes her hair and puts on her seat belt before she looks over at you with concern.

“you okay, bub? what’s wrong?” wanda asks softly, placing a gentle hand on your thigh as she furrows her eyebrows at your distant far off look.

wanda had no idea what was going through your head, not a single clue as to what was about to come out of your lips.

“do you ever think meant to be together? or are we just destined to be some sort of parallel line that run close but never touch”

a flicker of panic come over wanda’s face and her gentle caress on your thigh stops abruptly.

the air in the car now feels heavier, as if the spoken words have broken the ‘casual-ness’ of your spoken agreement.

wanda always hoped you two would speak about this, but when you were sober and coherent.

it came out of your lips so naturally, as if you’d said it before.

like this has been weighing heavily on your mind for a while.

wanda’s heart clenched, especially at the fact that she had finally realized that you’d been wondering about the same thing she had for years.

“i-“

wanda was completely and utterly dumbfounded for the first time when it came to you. she often, no— not often, always had an idea of what would come out of your mouth.

she often found herself staring at you when you’d speak to your friends from across the room. she’d smile at how animatedly you’d react to people words and how you’d cover your mouth as you’d giggle at a joke someone said. she could easily pride herself in the fact that she knew you.

but this, what you’d just said, had her tongue tied.

she wished you were sober. she wished you were sober so she could confess that she’d been in love with you for so long, before you two even agreed to get into bed with each other. that ever since you two were nineteen during your first year of college, she couldn’t stop thinking of you in a way that friends shouldn’t think of each other in.

but you were drunk.

you were seeing someone and so was she.

so she made the hard decision to keep her silence and take you home safely, without any casualties.

“you’re drunk,” she says sadly, her eyes showing every ounce of emotion going in through her head, “let’s save this for another day”

that day never came.

walking through the door of wanda’s apartment to get into the party wanda said she’d throw you, you’re instantly greeted with a bunch of your closest friends and a few extra guests who happened to be their plus ones.

immediately, you found yourself scanning the room and smiling at the people who were in the space. you could hear chatter and laughter, warming your heart knowing that it all came from the people you knew and loved.

with soft music in the background and the smell of wanda’s cooking, you feel immediately at ease with the atmosphere of the party.

you walk in and are greeted by your friends wishing you a happy birthday. after thanking them and giving them hugs, you find yourself by the drink table to try and loosen up.

wanda was considerate enough, as always, to ensure that the people who were invited to the party were people you could actually stand to hold a conversation with unlike other parties where you had to endure endless small chat that rotted at your brain.

speaking of wanda, you’d yet to see her even though this is her apartment. you try your best to subtly look around the room for any sight of the girl who takes up space in your mind every day.

scanning the room, you look for the dark haired girl but come up short. pouring softly, you take another sip of your drink and go to find natasha who has a look of amusement on her face as she watches you search for wanda.

“how nice of you to finally make it to your own birthday party,” she teases, “you look nice. is this the dress wanda bought you?”

it was. in fact, you’d never been a fan of dressing too girly until wanda coaxed you into letting her buy you a dress, and this one happened to be the most recent one she’s bought you.

she was always a fan of how baby blue looked on you. she liked it so much on you that she took it upon herself to buy you another two dresses, each could be used for different events.

this specific dress fell just below mid thigh and you paired it with a simple pair of white heels. you kept your makeup natural and did your hair, subconsciously styling yourself the way you know wanda would compliment. i mean, she is the one who bought you this dress and threw you this party.

what are friends with benefits for if not that?

trying to hide a small blush at natasha’s words, you nod softly and try to look away to avoid her incessant teasing.

she laughs softly and nudges your shoulder, “i haven’t seen her”

you turn back to her with a furrow of your brows and try to act like you don’t know what she’s talking about.

“your girlfriend,” she says in a monotone voice, as if it’s obvious who she’s talking about.

a small pout forms on your lips as you realize that no one’s seen wanda. everything seemed to be flowing smoothly and it didn’t seem like she needed to go out to get anything for the party, so where could she be?

turning back to natasha and excusing yourself to go grab a quick snack from the kitchen, you turn on your heel to grab a quick breather before having to go back out and socialize all night.

while at the table, you feel a presence right next to you, staring. agatha.

“well, well,” she begins in that tone of hers, “it seems like your girlfriend isn’t yours anymore, huh? is that why you’re all alone?”

you quickly whip your head towards her. not yours anymore? your body feels like it’s gone cold and you can’t pry your eyes away from agatha, almost trying to urge her to say something else, to continue on with what she just started.

“what do you mean?”

agathas’s smirk widens as she realizes shes hit a nerve.

“well, she’s not glued to you like usual. no cozying up, no fetching you whatever you need, having you on her lap. i mean, what do you mean what do i mean?”

patience wearing thin and not wanting to deal with agatha beating around the bush, you step closer to her with a firm look on your face, “where is wanda? who’s she with?”

agatha is caught off guard by your sudden jealous and angry demeanor, she drops the act.

tilting her head towards the crowd, and giving you a look of pity, “sorry, babe. last i saw her she was cozying up with a girl with a green dress. you took to long to get your girl.”

your blood runs cold for the umpteenth time in just the past twenty minutes. it’s almost like your body knew this was coming but your brain didn’t. had you just lost wanda? was it for good this time?

you turn your head to look for natasha in the living room, she’s already looking at you with a look of pity. she nods her head to the opposite side of the living room, gesturing towhere wanda is with a dark haired girl.

a knot twists inside of your chest and it feels like the air has been knocked out of you. it’s like a movie you hate but can’t tear your eyes away from. wanda looks beautiful, happy.

and you hate it.

the two look comfortable together, sitting too close for your liking. wanda’s left leg is over her right and the girl has her hand placed on her thigh.

wanda’s looking at her with a look you believed was only meant for you. the softly smile on her face and the way her eyes drift down to the girls lips makes you sick.

they’re well into a conversation and you can see how wanda is laughing at her jokes, placing her hand on the girl’s forearm as she throws her head back in a fit of laughter.

it seems all too natural and intimate.

every interaction you watch them share feels like a blow to the stomach, the air feeling like it’s being knocked out of you again.

in this moment, you slowly begin to realize that wanda was never yours. every shared moment that you two shared together, every kiss and caress, was just a way to pass the time.

you feel nauseous.

you excuse yourself from agatha and quickly find a way to wanda’s patio, where it’s vacant and you can hide for a while out here.

wanda’s apartment had a beautiful view of the city. you two often sat outside together and cuddled with a blanket and a cup of coffee after work often. you found comfort in wanda, even if you were unsure of what you two were.

she worked hard for everything she had in life and it was something you truly admired about her. she didn’t have the easiest upbringing and the fact that she still remains soft after it all and continued to be a beautiful is something you love about her.

replaying the conversation with both natasha and agatha, you can’t help but feel like a complete idiot as you realize how everything almost felt as if it was foreshadowing to this very moment.

you hear the door to the patio open but don’t turn back, you already know who it is.

familiar soft footsteps stop right next to you and you immediately smell her perfume. it’s the same one you gave her a few years ago and for the first time, it makes you sick.

“you’re wearing the dress,” amusement in her voice as she looks at the city with you, “and you look beautiful”

you smile softly but don’t engage in conversation, just acknowledging her compliment. wanda frowns softly at your lack of attention, not used to you immediately turning around and throwing back a flirt remark at her.

watching you from the side of her eye, she can tell just by your body language that something is bothering you.

you two stand at the patio railing for another few minutes, just in each others presence, until she decides to point out the elephant in the room.

“are you okay?” she asks, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

wanda’s concern warms your heart, but you know it’s just meant to be in a friendly way. the way she always looks out for you always tugs on your heart strings.

you want to get angry with her. you want to yell and scream at her to get the hell away from you. ask her why she would string you along with pretty words and gentle gestures that screamed ‘i love you.’

but you can’t.

because at the end of the day, somehow you always find yourself back in wanda’s arms and you could never tell her you hate her. it just isn’t true. it couldn’t ever be true.

forcing the emotion down your throat, you force yourself to tell her you’re okay. forcing a smile as you look at her, you try to fake it.

but wanda knows you.

“bub,” with a soft voice, “what’s wrong?”

there it is. she knows exactly what to say, how to say it, and how to get her way.

“i just,” a deep breath, “i didn’t know you’d be bringing a date to the party.”

wanda’s face falters and she doesn’t know what to say. the girl back there was not at all her date, nor could she even fathom the idea of bringing another girl when today was supposed to be about you.

she dismissively waves a hand in front of her as she looks away, almost trying to deflect and avoid the topic, but she sees the way you’re trying to hide your hurt at the whole situation.

she begins picking at her finger nails, a nervous habit you’ve tried to help her stop. trying to figure out what to say, she stares at the ground. the last thing she’d ever want to do it hurt you, and yet here she was.

“she’s,” a slight moment of hesitation “she’s not my date. she just..”

her voice falters and she doesn’t know how to carry on so she just sighs and looks at you with an apologetic look.

wanda looks beautiful. i mean, how could she not? she’s wearing the outfit you love so much. the black pants and white top that you’ve always said makes her look sophisticated. you two always laugh at that, especially since the thought of you two now looking and acting like fully fledged adults is something that neither of you could never wrap your heads around.

“she’s just someone i’m talking to for the night, i swear” wanda fidgets uncomfortably, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. she’s never seen this side of you, the way your hidden jealousy wants to boil over.

you give her a sad smile and just shake your head, silently telling her she doesn’t have to continue. placing your hands over hers, you hold onto them tightly and bring them up to your lips to place a soft kiss against her knuckles.

“thank you for the party, wands”

wanda panics immediately, the way you said that felt like it had some sense of finality to it. anxiety fills her chest and she feels like her legs could give out at any minute. she tries to say something, anything, to get you to stay with her.

but she’s caught off guard and she doesn’t have anything on the tip of her tongue, except for the three words she’s wanted to say for so long.

giving her a hug, you hold her tightly and allow yourself to feel her touch one last time. you want to tell her you love her, tell her everything that you’ve been meaning to say.

but you fall short, like on every occasion you’ve wanted to confess.

you give her a kiss on the cheek and hold her waist as you pull back, smiling softly at her.

in this moment, you fully understand what natasha meant by telling you, “if you’re not going to tell her how much she means to you and you love her, you need to let her go. you know she deserves that much.”

wanda tries to hold onto you tightly, as if you’ll float away if she even let go for a fraction of a second. her heart was racing and she was on the verge of tears.

you release wanda as you take a step back, looking at her face and trying to take in as much of her as possible knowing this very well may be the last time you see her.

“i’ll see you.”

[tommyssupercoolblog]

Hey no hold on you don't have to be nice to men who are already actively being mean to you or something. Just don't be a fucking TERF who thinks men are born inherently evil and incapable of change. I thought the point was "if all I can be is a monster then I may as well accept it" not "oh no girls snap at me when I tell them they shouldn't have rights"??

The guy escaped the pipeline but the point of the post isn't about guys who are IN IT it's about boys who aren't. Who are 12, 15, not assholes yet. It's about stopping them from BECOMING alt right, not how to handle people who are already.

Like if you are told that identifying as man or being born in a male body (or both, a lot of people say both) makes you evil in itself. That you are discriminatory by default. You might decide there's no point in being kind because you'll always fail. I know you know men are individuals but just because you know that doesn't mean everyone does. TERFs certainly don't, and radical feminism is popping off at the same time all this other shit is happening. Their whole THING is that men are violent rapists from birth who can never be changed, and doing damage control rather than working for actual equality. There are people who genuinely believe that cis men, and trans men and trans women as well, are all dangerous and need to be locked out of everyone else's spaces.

"but TERFs aren't leftist" firstly they claim to be, but secondly...lots of queer people a d self-described leftists have been parroting their talking points without even realizing it. "I wish I lived in a world with no men lol, men DNI, kill all men hehe" reblogging posts from literal TERFs and not realizing it because they didn't say anything bad about trans people specifically, and because they go "don't worry trans men, you are also included in my DNI and posts about wanting you dead. Also trans women aren't men so I don't want you dead and you can reblog"

"sorry I'll delete that post now I didn't realize the "we should invent a disease that wipes out men" post was made by a TERF whoopsies"

If you already understand that men aren't evil by some god given nature design then the post.... isn't ABOUT you???? Yes there's plenty of people who know better than that but there are also plenty of people who don't. It depends on who you're seeing in your algorithm, or on Tumblr who you're following. Just don't let posts like that spread, so we can hopefully keep them from reaching too many people

You can still tell people who are actively discriminatory to fuck off. And you SHOULD. Sexists and rapists don't deserve to be coddled. But a pipeline starts slowly, creeps up over months or years as you listen to more and more voices of hate. This just helps people from starting that path- because a lot of them would hate the very person they are now in the beginning. It started slow

Edit: for emphasis or in summary i guess, If you already know men aren't born evil then the only thing you have to worry about is shutting down TERFs and people who parrot them. If you think the parroting is done with well intentions then you can always explain why gender essentialism itself is harmful and anti-femenist besides. Stop the rise of that and it can help

"as a guy who escaped the alt-right pipeline, [*blames it on Misandry*]"

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part4

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: mentioning abortion, daddy issues, mentioning violence, kind of depression

previous - next

You missed feeling relaxed. You missed that brief period without all the stress packed into these last two weeks. Actually, it wasn’t just these two weeks. Ever since you noticed the symptoms, a constant worry had settled inside you.

What would Rafe say, what would your family say, how would they react—would they even want this?

Now, at least you knew what they felt. You knew they didn’t want this, that they were trying to convince you to end it. But the worry hadn’t gone away, not for a second. It clung to you like it knew your weakest spot, pressing down on it relentlessly.

Looking at the big picture, you didn’t really have anything left to fear. The people who needed to know had found out. Even though their reactions were awful, now you knew, and you’d have to carry on knowing it.

And that was what truly scared you.

You were starting to feel anxious about the future. Bringing a child into the world without anyone by your side would be incredibly tough, and you were sure of that. You were basically broke, with no support from your family.

Entering a dark, unknown path without any light ahead was terrifying.

This wasn’t how you wanted things to turn out.

“You’re quiet.”

Arms crossed over your chest, you were walking with your gaze on the ground. If he hadn’t spoken, you might not even have been aware of the state you were in. At the sound of his voice, you lifted your head and looked at his face. He was smiling at you, just like always.

His smile didn’t seem very sincere—it was almost infuriating. And you could tell he was doing it on purpose. He seemed to enjoy messing with you, and you hated it. The way he talked to you, as if you were some alien who just didn’t get it, made your blood boil. It was like he was observing you the way someone would watch a caged animal.

When it became clear you weren’t going to answer, JJ chuckled and turned his gaze forward. The sky was nearly dark, and the air was beginning to chill.

To be fair, he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that you weren’t exactly on a pleasant path. The evening was closing in, and the road had grown desolate. But he knew this walk would be worth it.

You were behind him, but JJ made a point of staying close to you. Not because he wanted to be near you, really—he just wanted to make sure you were ready for anything. Simply put, though he’d never admit it, he didn’t want you to miss out on this. He’d never say it, but these weren’t the safest paths to be on.

Hearing you sigh in frustration behind him, JJ rolled his eyes. Your impatience was practically a signature trait, especially for a Kook like you. “Not a fan of hiking, huh?” JJ’s teasing was obvious, and you disliked his tone. Just a bit.

“This isn’t hiking,” you muttered, trying to scrape mud off your shoe. You could swear you were in the most godforsaken corner of the world. "This—this feels more like a death march. Tell me there’s something good at the end of this, or else—”

JJ couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh. Sometimes, he thought your silent moments were his favorites, but hearing you complain actually amused him in its own way. Whatever happened, you’d keep following him like a little lost puppy. He cut you off before you could go on. “We’re almost there.”

When your complaints subsided, he found himself smiling involuntarily. He was absolutely certain you’d hate every bit of this, but for now, you were stuck here with him. You didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Sure, he did—he could go to John B’s place, and he would eventually.

It just didn’t sit right with him to leave you on your own. He hadn’t been raised with high standards, but—he was still the kind of guy who wouldn’t leave a girl alone at night.

And since he definitely wasn’t taking you to John B’s house—he was sure you’d say no—the only option left was his own style of a safe, quiet spot. At least you wouldn’t stand out around the Pogues, and you’d get some peace and quiet.

To say he was doing it entirely for you would’ve been a big lie. He needed some time, too. He wasn’t ready to show up at John B’s place, explain everything, and face them in this state. JJ didn’t want to feel their silent pity, even if they didn’t say it out loud.

You wouldn’t ask, he was sure of that—or at least he hoped. And even if you did, it wouldn’t stick in your memory for long. To you, JJ was just some random person, and to him, you were the same. Your lives didn’t really intersect in any meaningful way.

JJ pushed some branches and shrubs aside to clear a path for you, and you followed close behind. This hike was becoming increasingly strange from your perspective.

As the sky darkened and you nearly found yourself in the forest, JJ took out his phone and turned on its flashlight. You rummaged through your pockets, intending to do the same, when you remembered storming out of the house in such a hurry. Honestly, you were lucky you’d even put on shoes because you’d left everything—literally everything—behind. Wallet, phone, cash, hair tie, body spray, everything was still at home. You were truly penniless.

JJ jumped down from a ledge and extended his hand to you. The realization that you’d left everything behind had hit you hard, but you pushed aside the frustration and focused on the path.

You tucked your hair behind your ears and tested the ground with your foot. It was pure mud. “Come on.” JJ extended his hand a bit further. You hesitated, but something in you trusted he’d catch you. Even though JJ was unreliable in general, you believed he wouldn’t let you fall. Just as you trusted he’d keep your pregnancy a secret.

He could be obnoxious, foolish, and infuriating—but he wasn’t a bad person.

As soon as you jumped down and took his hand, JJ quickly leaned forward and caught you by the back to keep you steady. Your foot slipped on the mud, but his grip kept you safe from harm.

“You okay?” he asked. Once he was sure you were steady, he slowly let go of your back and hand, bending down to pick up his backpack. You gave him a quick nod, and he looked at you, nodding back and gesturing at the trail.

Even though he’d held onto you and kept you from falling, you were still frustrated at the path he’d chosen. “I already hate this,” you said, and JJ immediately started laughing. The fact that your irritation amused him made you somehow even more annoyed.

You crossed your arms and took a deep breath, tempted to fire back a few words. You just wanted to get under his skin, to rile him up as much as he seemed to enjoy riling you. But it felt impossible. No matter what you said, he just found it funny, like he was looking for any chance to mess with you. Was it your tone, the way you phrased things, or were you just naturally the kind of person he could laugh at? You couldn’t tell, and it only irritated you more.

But then, as you looked over at him, you realized—it was none of those things.

He was genuinely laughing. His dimples appeared. There was no mocking glance, no condescending smirk. He was actually amused. It was like he found you funny, not in a mean way, just… funny.

Just two seconds after you looked at him, JJ turned back with a wide grin—nearly every tooth on display. “Told you you’d hate this,” he chuckled, his voice shaky from laughter, as if still savoring his victory.

He had indeed told you, and he’d meant it. He wasn’t saying it just to annoy you; he genuinely knew you wouldn’t like this. Not that it mattered much. You weren’t alone, after all.

The anger simmering within you slowly began to melt, and for a second, you even wanted to smile back at him. After a brief exchange of glances, you both looked away, but a faint smirk remained on his face.

When JJ sped up a little and moved ahead, you opted to stay behind him. He paused just enough with each branch he brushed aside to make sure you could follow, eventually taking a deep breath as he passed through. “Home sweet home,” he declared, as though this place were actually his.

By the time you both finally made it through the branches and bushes, you were covered in scratches. You swore you’d kill JJ. No blood, but plenty of pain. As he flashed his phone’s light around, you rubbed your sore arm and looked at the scene around you.

Wonderful.

An abandoned dock. Was this his idea of a “nice place”? You figured you had about 15 minutes before the bugs and snakes launched an all-out assault. “I’m not staying here.” you announced firmly, crossing your arms. JJ turned to you with a smile.

Did he ever stop smiling? He nodded as if he agreed, surprising you. You almost thought he was crazy. You’d followed a madman all the way out here. Great decision.

“Same.” he replied, that knowing tone in his voice. Before you could step back, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along, heading toward the edge of the dock. For a second—a single second—you thought he might push you into the river, but he didn’t.

It was too dark to make out everything around you, but as JJ's phone light lit up the surroundings, you saw it. Slowly, the scene became clear. Was that... a boat?

Did JJ get a boat?

Impossible.

“What are we doing right now?” you asked, pulling your wrist back as he crouched down to untie the boat. His phone light didn’t quite reach, so he handed it to you, gesturing for you to shine it on his hands. You did as he asked, though you watched him warily. What was he even doing?

He had to be nuts.

“Is this... your boat?” you asked, as he stood and stretched out a hand to help you aboard. JJ shook his head, still grinning.

Wait a minute... the boat wasn’t JJ’s. It wasn’t yours either. So—

“Are you stealing this boat?!” you blurted out, unable to hide the horror in your voice. JJ rolled his eyes, extending his hand again as he shook his head. He thought you were being dramatic. This wasn’t stealing.

“We’re not stealing it. We—remember? We’re in this together,” he said, his tone playful. You immediately shook your head, taking a step back, but JJ quickly placed a foot on the dock to steady the boat and grabbed your hand before you could retreat any further. “We’re absolutely not in this together. You dragged me out here on some unknown path, and now you’re stealing a boat—”

JJ couldn’t take your ranting anymore. Without a second thought, he tightened his grip and pulled you onto the boat. The world was pitch black out here, and even if you tried to turn back, you’d get lost. He just hoped you wouldn’t be foolish enough to attempt it.

Once you were on board, JJ stood in front of you, so close that you were nearly nose to nose. When you stumbled, he reached out to steady you by the back, speaking before you could protest further.

“We’re not stealing. We. Got it? We’re just borrowing it, and we’ll bring it back by morning. And if anyone asks, there’s only one thing you need to remember,” he said, his tone casual, yet with a hint of amusement.

As you stared at him, you noticed how close he really was. Your hand rested on his shoulder, and one of his hands was on your arm, the other somewhere between your back and waist. Silently, you waited, wondering what he’d say next. JJ smirked, clearly enjoying your curiosity.

“Deny, deny, deny... You tripped, fell into the boat, and it just happened to drift off on its own. And unfortunately—” he continued, pulling his hands back from you as he spoke. You were so focused on him that you barely noticed his movements. Fixated, you watched him start up the boat as though he’d done it a hundred times.

“We’re just two clueless kids who don’t know how to steer, and the boat just started moving,” he said, a grin still on his face. He turned to make sure you had something to hold onto before he started the engine.

You weren’t sure how long you both stayed silent, just that you hadn’t drifted too far. Sitting beside him, you enjoyed the cool breeze—until it started to chill you to the bone.

You didn’t know where you eventually stopped, but JJ clearly did. You followed his lead, keeping quiet.

Now, both of you were lying quietly at the back of the boat. JJ’s phone lay face down, its flashlight casting a soft glow. You both seemed to enjoy the silence.

You were an idiot. You hadn’t planned anything for tonight, and now, like a fool, you hadn’t even brought anything warm. A T-shirt and red shorts, no jacket. You started to feel the night chill, hoping you wouldn’t catch a cold. You didn’t have the energy for that right now.

JJ noticed. He knew if he handed you one of the blankets from under the seats, you’d wrinkle your nose at it, just like he would. So, instead, he took out his sweatshirt from his bag, took a deep breath, and handed it to you.

He waited for you to refuse, to say you didn’t need it, but you surprised him. You looked at the sweatshirt for a moment, then took it from him without a word, slipping it on quickly.

The slight movement caused JJ’s phone to slide, leaving his face illuminated by the flashlight. His hair, tousled by the wind, fell slightly to one side.

Your gaze lingered on his eyes, but something distracted you—a bruise you hadn’t noticed before. Probably hidden by his hair until now.

JJ realized you’d noticed. Instinctively, he ran a hand through his hair, rearranging it to cover the bruise. He knew exactly what he was doing, turning his head slightly.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was fresh. The bruises you’d seen two weeks ago had already faded. This one was definitely new.

JJ saw you looking. He shifted uncomfortably, yet he knew you were still watching him out of the corner of your eye. “What?” he asked with a smile, though it was different from the smiles you’d seen earlier. It just sat there, plastered on his face, almost lifeless. “Did you like what you saw?”

He expected you to look away, maybe even sigh in annoyance or give him a frustrated glare. But you didn’t. You just looked at him, knowing full well that something was wrong. And he knew you knew it, too.

“What happened?” you asked quietly. The words left your mouth almost as light as a feather. But JJ, listening intently, caught every word.

His smile turned bitter as he took a deep breath. He didn’t want to tell you, but things might change, given that you already knew his most guarded secret.

You were each other’s opposite. You were a Kook; you didn’t deal with Pogues. JJ was a Pogue; he didn’t associate with Kooks. You’d barely spoken to anyone from that crowd. Not that you didn’t want to—it just hadn’t interested you.

And yet, here you were with JJ. You weren’t trapped; you’d chosen to follow him willingly. He’d led you to this deserted, uncomfortable place, but it was relaxing. Sure, you’d hated it at first, but now you were starting to like it here.

This was one of those moments you’d never have predicted, not even if someone had told you about it hours earlier. What could you possibly want with a Pogue?

“Did I ever ask you about how that fight went?” JJ’s tone was cold, harsher than he intended. He wasn’t looking to bite back. He didn’t even know why he was saying it, only that he regretted it when he saw your expression fall.

You’d both come out here to get some peace—not to ask questions.

But instead, you withdrew, mumbling a soft, dry, “Sorry.” You drew your legs up, crossing your arms to brace against the chill. There was nothing to see in the darkness around you. Nothing but darkness itself.

JJ hadn’t expected this reaction. For a moment, he’d forgotten how rough your day had been. He’d anticipated a biting remark, even a small argument. But you remained silent, as if you hadn’t asked at all.

Maybe, JJ thought. Maybe you weren’t as stuck-up and unbreakable as he’d thought.

He hadn’t intended to add to your sadness. It was just that he felt his space being invaded. But he already regretted not biting his tongue. He could’ve said nothing at all, but now, it was too late.

You felt like you were meddling, like you were sticking your nose into someone else’s business. And maybe you were. But today, without knowing what had happened, he had helped you. There was no need to ask him anything; whether he chose to open up or not was up to him. Pressuring him for an answer had just happened in a brief, unintended moment.

JJ straightened up and moved his phone's flashlight aside, taking a deep breath. "My dad," he muttered. He hadn't planned on telling you. He hadn't even shared this with his friends. But then again, you'd also told him things no one else knew about you.

JJ trusted that you wouldn’t tell anyone. After all, who cares about someone else's daddy issues?

Your eyes turned back to JJ as he spoke. Feeling your gaze, he nervously ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t intend to tell you everything—just the basics. It was hard for him to explain.

You listened intently, and after his response, you thought he might stay silent for the rest of the night. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d stayed completely closed off. But barely a minute later, he began speaking again.

On a good day, you might have jokingly called him bipolar. But neither of you was having a good day.

"Long story short, he has a drinking problem. We don’t get along too well," JJ continued, struggling to articulate his thoughts. Besides his friends, he’d never opened up to anyone. His friends were his family, his only family.

JJ shifted slightly, watching as you leaned in a bit closer. You stood facing each other, and he avoided looking directly at you, worried that he might see pity or sympathy in your expression. If he saw even a trace of it, he thought he might just jump off the boat and into the river.

But when he looked up and met your gaze, he found none of that. You were simply looking at him with understanding. Your eyebrows weren’t raised, and there was no pity in your eyes—just empathy.

Nobody deserves to have terrible parents, no matter where they come from. It just wasn’t fair.

"Sometimes… things like this happen. But I'm used to it, Princess. No need to feel sorry for me. I’m still as handsome as ever." He extended his leg to nudge your own, a grin appearing on his face. It would’ve taken a fool not to see that his smile was a mask. He was trying to hide his pain behind a playful facade.

You decided not to call him out. Smiling in the same way, you pushed your legs away and gently nudged his back.

It felt like an unspoken promise had passed between you. You wouldn’t mention this to anyone. It seemed important to him. Even if he thought no one would care, you knew it mattered.

"Yeah," you teased, recognizing he was trying to change the subject. "I’m sure Pogue girls will be lining up for you either way." He threw his head back and laughed, his Adam’s apple prominent as he tilted his head off the side of the boat.

As you laughed with him, you felt, for maybe the first time today, a craving for something normal. It felt good to share a moment with someone who wouldn’t judge you. The same was true for JJ. You both exchanged secrets and now carried each other’s burdens. If one of you fell, so would the other.

But you couldn't help but wonder. Had his father caused the scars you saw when you first met, or had he really been in a fight? You weren’t bold enough to ask. Respecting the boundary he’d set, you didn’t make any comments.

"Actually, you’re funny," JJ remarked with a grin. Of course, you were funny—you just didn’t show it to people who didn’t matter. Why would you?

Rolling your eyes, you laughed, and JJ continued smiling. He’d always thought you were serious, not because he was always thinking about you, but because he’d never seen this side of you.

But now he knew better.

While JJ watched you, you didn’t look back. You hadn’t even noticed him observing you. With your arms crossed, you took deep breaths, savoring the fresh air, trying to unwind, and, in this moment, you finally relaxed.

Despite JJ’s presence, you felt detached from all the day’s stress. If you could, you would erase today from your mind entirely. But you couldn’t, and you felt deeply exhausted. As you thought of tomorrow, you couldn’t help but wonder. Soon, you’d leave JJ, the boat, and this river behind. Where would you go? You had nowhere to go except home, and you didn’t know if they’d continue being mad at you. A sigh escaped you, and you felt a nudge on your leg.

JJ was looking at you intently, with a slight grin as if he knew something you didn’t. "Stay in the moment," he said as if reading your mind. He tilted his head back, looking around and taking a deep breath. "We’re in a place no one can find us. Whatever it is you’re worried about—deal with it tomorrow. Let them wonder what you’re up to. Why should you be the one feeling bad?"

In a million years, you wouldn’t have thought you’d take advice from him. But what you couldn’t believe even more was that you actually wanted to follow it. He was right, and you wanted to hold onto his words.

He was right.

Let them think whatever they wanted. You were going to be fine. You’d figure things out. You just needed a little time—not much.

You and the baby.

The thought made you smile.

You nodded, glancing at JJ. Even an idiot could say something wise once in a while. Like a broken clock being right twice a day.

"I’ll stay in the moment," you said, agreeing with him. Your smile grew, and it was as if JJ had been waiting for this. He exhaled and clapped his hands. "Finally!" he shouted, startling you as he moved closer.

In that moment, a realization hit you: JJ Maybank made you feel better. He’d lifted the sorrow from your body, just with his words—the words you needed to hear.

Not Rafe, not your family. You didn’t want to remember their words. JJ’s words were enough.

JJ broke eye contact, still smiling, and picked up his phone. “Shit…” he muttered. You wanted to ask what was wrong, curious, so you leaned forward, realizing his phone battery was running low.

“Your phone—” JJ began but stopped, remembering you looked like a runaway with no phone on you. Of course, you’d left it at home. “Oh, great,” he mumbled to himself.

"Are you afraid of the dark?" he asked. You shook your head in response, even though, well… you might’ve been a bit scared. But you were on a boat with someone, so it didn’t really bother you.

JJ ruffled his hair and looked at you. "If we’re going to sit in the dark, I need a verbal answer. I can’t see you shaking your head.”

Just when you thought you’d found a way to get along with him, he managed to ruin it. He was driving you insane.

“Yes! Are you happy now?” JJ rolled his eyes and, adjusting his position, turned off the flashlight.

Your eyes tried to adjust to the darkness, but you could feel him sitting beside you, his shoulder almost brushing against yours. “More than happy,” he replied. You turned your head the other way, not wanting to look in his direction, even if you couldn’t see him. You sensed he was smiling from the tone of his voice. He enjoyed this—teasing you.

Even if he couldn’t see it, he knew he was getting under your skin, and it pleased him. Although he could’ve found other ways to connect with you, this playful sparring felt right to him. Besides, your reactions amused him.

"Pouting, are we?" JJ teased. He liked the quiet and the dark. Even if he couldn’t see you, he still felt your presence, your shoulder barely brushing against his.

“Not at all,” you replied, making JJ chuckle. He couldn’t help but enjoy every minute he spent with you. Your way of responding to him was entertaining, but deep down, he knew—you enjoyed this back-and-forth too.

You didn’t like the darkness. You weren’t scared, but you didn’t love it. JJ, right now, was your distraction. You’d been watching him or the boat to keep your mind off things, but since the flashlight had turned off, the heaviness inside you began creeping back. You couldn’t tell if your eyes were open or closed, and all you could think about was the day’s events.

Absentmindedly, your hand drifted to your stomach, as if feeling it might help you make the right choice. But the feeling you’d expected didn’t come. You felt nothing at all.

What am I gonna do?

Fears were starting to creep in. You didn't know if they'd be there for you if you went through with this, but you hoped you could overcome it. You were strong, ambitious, and capable of handling things on your own. If, of course, you wanted to. But did you even want it? Were you ready to bring a child into this world at twenty?

"Listen to yourself," JJ’s voice startled you. You turned to him, unsure of what he meant, and a small murmur slipped from his lips. Was he reading your mind?

"You asked what you’re going to do. Listen to yourself. Your body, your choice." JJ’s voice was close. You had turned to his side and didn’t expect to be this near. His breath was almost brushing your face.

"Rafe doesn’t want it," you said without thinking. Again. Yet you couldn't help but see JJ as a sort of mentor. He wasn’t on anyone’s side. He was an independent observer. "What would you do? If you were pregnant?"

At that, JJ’s laughter echoed through the woods. It was so loud that it made you jump a little, and you sensed him holding his stomach—not for the same reason, of course, but it looked like he was almost cringing. Not exactly an appropriate question, but—he needed to understand. Without meaning to, despite the difficult situation, you smiled. Laugh really was infectious.

"First off," he began, still chuckling, "Who the hell is Rafe to ask me to get an abortion? Second, fuck his opinions. He can shove it right back where it came from. And third—and this is the last point—as long as I want it, no one can make me do anything I don’t want to do." You didn’t usually like swearing, but coming from him, it was funny. You hadn't expected those answers, but then again, you’d thrown him a question out of the blue. It was fair.

"Besides, sorry, beauty, but I can’t get pregnant." You couldn’t help thinking how clueless some guys were sometimes. You’d meant what would he do if he were in your shoes. Of course, you knew he couldn’t get pregnant. You weren’t that dumb.

But JJ wasn’t dumb either. He just liked to mess with you.

No one could tell you what to do. You were the one carrying this baby. Abortion was your choice, and so was giving birth. You’d decide. Tonight, you’d know what you wanted. You might stumble at first, you might be afraid, but you’d make your choice.

It had been a long day. As the beginning of a headache began to make itself known, you leaned into the touch of JJ’s shoulder. Your lips parted, but only air came out instead of words.

You appreciated his words. Though you were two completely different people, from opposite sides, he’d supported you. He’d brought you back to yourself. Neither of you would call this helping, but it was. JJ had been there for you when no one else was.

So, without thinking, you said, "Thank you." And you meant it. You didn’t mutter it, nor did you look away. If there’d been light between you, you’d have looked right into his eyes.

JJ wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t even know what to say, but he took a deep breath. When you leaned into him, he leaned back. Now, your shoulders were fully touching. He didn’t know if he’d do this with the lights on, but the lights were off, and there was no need.

The unknown, dark path was terrifying. But it would pass. It would light up eventually—maybe with an object, maybe with a person, or perhaps even with a baby…

You couldn’t enjoy life by standing around, waiting in fear. You couldn’t let your paranoia stand in the way of living. This was your life, and you were the one in control. Your fears and anxieties were temporary; they’d go away, and in the end, you’d be left with yourself. This was your life. You had a life to live. Stay in the moment.

JJ took a deep breath. You both fell silent. There wasn’t much left to say. "Of course," he almost whispered, but you heard it completely in the stillness and quiet between you.

As your eyes slowly closed, you took deep breaths. The only scent you caught was salt and the sea.

You lay together until dawn, sprawled out in place. JJ would occasionally wake up and just lie there, only to fall back asleep, but you never stirred. It was as if you were lying on a queen’s bed.

When the sun’s rays started to creep into your eyes, JJ was the first to wake up. He moved to put the boat back in place. When he accidentally woke you, he muttered a small apology. You’d have woken up to any engine sound anyway, but he hadn’t meant to wake you. The two of you moved to the captain’s side as you tried to wake up and gather yourself. You didn’t chat much. JJ took you back to the old pier and helped you out of the boat.

After making sure there was nothing left behind, you took the water he offered without hesitation.

You muttered a few complaints about possibly getting bitten by bugs again, which JJ found amusing. A few cars passed by as you walked, and together you headed back to the beach where you’d been yesterday.

As you reached the entrance, JJ’s eyes wandered to the sea. You wondered if you should just leave him. You didn’t know what to do. To avoid making the situation more awkward, you looked away and gazed around. "Nice weather," he said, still looking around, but the ocean was his main focus.

"I have a change of clothes. Do you want to swim?" Your eyes shifted to the ocean he mentioned, your mouth opening and closing. If he wanted to see you go swimming in your underwear, he was in for a surprise. But you breathed a sigh of relief when you realized he meant clothes.

Fuck it.

"Let’s go." You left him behind as you walked toward the ocean. Without hesitation, you took off your shoes and socks as JJ, trailing behind, looked at you in awe. "Come on!" you shouted. A smile played on your lips. He smiled back, then quickly followed, dropping his bag near where your shoes were and tossing his shirt on the ground. He already had swim shorts on. You didn’t.

You took off your red shorts, tossed them with the other clothes, and walked toward the water. You couldn’t go in naked, but a T-shirt would work. JJ seemed just as eager.

The coldness of the water made you both shiver the moment you stepped in. It felt like something you had to do. "If you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you," you said as you waded in deeper. JJ laughed, looking at you as you both continued shivering.

"We know a lot about each other. Isn’t that sweet…” Then he shrieked when you splashed water at him. Even though you were soaked, you hadn’t yet adjusted to the water. As you splashed him back, he scrunched up his face at the feel of water on his bare skin and tried to back away.

"No! No!" JJ yelled, but you didn’t stop. As you kept drenching him, he finally dipped himself underwater, unable to handle your relentless game. Smiling mischievously, you looked around to see where he’d resurface. He was nowhere to be seen.

Then he grabbed you by the legs and pulled you down, cutting off your scream as you went under.

That mother fucker.

He’d outplayed you.

As soon as you emerged, you pushed your hair back and looked around. JJ was already in front of you, catching his breath and fixing his hair, smiling. "Didn’t like that, did you?" he asked, moving toward you, still smiling, showing his dimples. Just as you raised your hands to splash him again, he caught your wrists and pulled you close.

"I didn’t like it either."

Then, he splashed you in the face and bolted away. You didn’t feel like yourself, and JJ didn’t seem like JJ. There were no names, no titles, no telling who was from where—you just had fun. You didn’t even notice, but you felt like you had nothing to worry about anymore. You lived in the moment.

You weren’t sure what had changed within you, but it felt like everything had shifted. You didn’t know how long you’d been in the water until a few people appeared in the distance, and as the area grew busier, you and JJ left the water. He gave you another shirt. You put on your own shorts and sweatshirt. He walked with you until you got to your path home and turned to you as you were about to part.

"Not very Kook-like, but I’m sure you didn’t hate it as much as you say." No, it wasn’t Kook-like. You were sure of that. And yes, you might have hated it just a little. But you didn’t tell him that. You smiled, feeling the chill on your face from your wet hair.

After a moment of silence, he took a deep breath and said, “Take care.”

He was right. What mattered was you—your choices, your life.

Nodding to acknowledge him, you started walking toward home while JJ headed off toward John B’s place. Would you have had as much fun alone? Probably not, but here you were, laughing and living a bit more freely thanks to someone you’d never expected.

As you walked through your front gate, you were startled by the people waiting outside the door: your dad, your mom, and the sheriff. There was a whole lineup of officers, as if you’d been kidnapped or something. When your eyes met your mother’s, you could see her tears and the redness from crying, which made your heart twist painfully. She rushed over and wrapped her arms around you, her hands softly rubbing your back.

You didn’t want to listen to anyone. Without saying a word to either your mom or dad, you headed straight to your room. There on your bed was your phone, and you saw that you had a few unread messages—from your mom and dad, of course. They must have stopped messaging once they realized you’d left your phone behind. Even Rafe had sent you a few texts, as well as a couple of your friends.

But you didn’t care about what Rafe had to say. It was more of the same—messages about “thinking of your best interests” and a whole lot of other nonsense. He could go straight to hell for all you cared. It was you against the world. Even if you were alone, you could handle this. You were strong, and you’d get through everything just fine. You didn’t need anyone’s support; just your own belief in yourself.

So, fuck him.

You

Keeping the baby.

seen.

[pastryfication]

but that's just when you happened

pairing: oscar piastri x reader note: based on packing it up by gracie abrams and this request <33

the paddock roared with life as the cars zoomed past in incredibly high speed, but you weren’t focused on them. only one car really mattered in your eyes. his car.

never before had you loved someone so overwhelmingly much. never had you been so all consumingly infatuated. you wouldn’t consider yourself selfish—quite the opposite actually—but never had you wanted so many good things for another person. you wanted him to get everything he could ever ask for. everything from a cold pillow to a cool wind in his perfectly styled hair to something much bigger—something much more important. things like a win. a formula 1 win.

he wasn’t a loud person, quite the opposite actually, but when you laid together talking late at night, it was as if the words wouldn’t stop flowing from him. he told you about his deepest fears and wildest desires, and you listened closely, because he was so special. so so special.

you weren’t looking for love when you met him. you had actually sworn it off, but when you saw his dopey smile and warm eyes for the first time, all your rules went out the window.

every thought about packing up your heart for good—packing it away so it couldn’t be hurt another time—went out the window the second he entered your life.

no one made you blush like him, and it wasn’t even intentional most of the time. he just couldn’t help himself when everything about you was so damn beautiful. so beautiful and so perfect for him. it was as if you were build to be together, the way your hand fit in his like a puzzle piece. the way your head felt so perfectly placed tucked under his chin when you hugged.

with him, love wasn’t a game anymore. he ticked all your boxes, but you hadn’t even realised that before your friends pointed it out. the way you couldn’t find any icks, didn’t have anything you wanted to change, felt too good to be true. the first night you slept together where you woke up in his arms you almost panicked because the feeling was so new to you. new, but so so nice.

it was as if he was sent to earth specifically for you. and just at the right moment when you were about to pack it all up. he came into your life and changed it all. turned everything upside down.

his dry humour matched your dark one completely. no one could make you laugh like him. laugh until you felt like you were actually dying of happiness, like nothing mattered but the silly inside joke you shared.

he fit so perfectly in with your family dynamic. laughing with your father, sharing sweet stories with your mother, befriending your siblings as if it was the most natural thing in the world. watching the sunsets in the summer along with them, him standing close to you with his arm around your shoulder while your parents smiled adoringly at you. falling asleep together in your childhood bedroom, his hand drawing lazy shapes on you bare skin. repeating it all with his family afterwards.

he was your soulmate. you were 100 percent certain. you needed him him like you needed air to breathe. like you needed food and water. you wanted to listen to him talk forever and ever and even longer. with him by your side, you were sure you would die happily.

you held him after bad races and good races. through happy days and days were he felt like giving up. never did you let him ache alone.

you completed him and he completed you. you wanted everything good for him. everything he could ask for. but most of all, you hoped he would finally get the win he had so long longed for.

and at that moment, as you stood with his family in the mclaren garage, it finally seemed like a real possibility. your hands were squeezed tightly with oscar’s sisters. hattie holding so tightly on to you that your hand was about to lose feeling, but you didn’t pay any attention to it. you eyes were glued to the screen showing the race. showing your boyfriend in first position.

your heart was beating out of your chest, a lump was forming in your throat and your whole body was tensed up. this could be it. this could be the moment you had longed for for so long.

when his car crossed the finish line, you weren’t even thinking. no thoughts were clear in your head. nothing but oscar, oscar, oscar.

as soon as he was out of the car, he was running towards you. you had made your way to the barriers with the team and his mum, but he ignored them all as soon as he spotted you. his arms were around you in a tight hug and your head almost took a hit against his helmet with the speed in which he pulled you in.

but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered but him and the fact that he was a formula one winner. your winner.

a hundred cameras were probably pointed towards you, filming the first public display of affection he had ever shown, but it didn’t matter either. all you cool think was oscar, oscar, oscar.

it was weird how important he was to you. how intertwined the two of you were. you weren’t even looking for someone when you met him, yet here you were. you were so close to packing it up, but then he happened. he turned your whole world upside down, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. he was all that mattered. oscar, oscar, oscar.

[tlbodine]

So, Things Are Terrible and You Want to DO SOMETHING

The election is over and, ah...did not go well. While a lot of folks are doing a post mortem of the campaigns and trying to understand what happened with the vote and fighting over who shoulders the blame, we've gotta turn an eye toward the future and figure out, okay fam, where the fuck do we go from here.

I don't have all the answers on this, and I'm not an authority by any means, I'm just a horror author with a blog. But I've been thinking a lot about it and I wanted to share my thought process with others who might want to DO SOMETHING but feel they're spinning their wheels.

Buckle in. This will be a long one.

Step One: Understand the actual risks and stakes.

I think it is very easy to start panicking now about the worst possible case scenario -- jackbooted military busting into the door to disappear everyone who ever said something mean about Trump or bought a banned book or something -- and let fear turn into inaction.

I'm not saying things can't get that bad, and I'm not saying that it won't be absolutely terrifying right out the gate for some particularly at-risk groups -- but the distance between "now" and "V for Vendetta" is long and filled with a lot of intermediary steps. There will be so many opportunities to prevent the worst case scenario.

I say this because, if your mental image of "Bad Things Happening" is The Purge, it will be easy to wake up on inauguration day, look outside to see that the world is not on fire, think, hey, maybe things will be okay after all, and then completely disengage. Alternatively, you might feel so frozen with terror at the possibility of persecution that you do nothing. This is why people are saying: don't obey in advance.

It is essential for those of us with more privilege to use it to take care of those who are more vulnerable.

So. Who is most vulnerable? What does that vulnerability actually mean? What are the most likely risks of Trump's presidency? Here's a Guardian article that I think does a good job of summarizing some of the main issues. Go read that, then come back here.

Step Two: Take steps to protect yourself

You've gotta put your oxygen mask on first, right? So before you start getting involved in other causes, figure out what risks YOU are at, immediately, and do as much as you can to secure yourself. Some potential action steps depending on your circumstance may include:

Renewing your passport (helpful for leaving the country, but also for gender/name change purposes)

Getting vaccines / boosters

Securing birth control

Ensuring your necessary papers (birth certificates etc.) are where you have access to them.

Drawing up legal paperwork for spouses/partners (always a good idea, a helpful safety measure in case you lose marriage rights)

Bolstering your data privacy and online security. Here's a step-by-step guide I found that could help with that.

The specific steps you need to take here depend on what risks you, personally, face. You'll want to do some more research into this for your particular scenario.

No matter who you are, though, it's probably a good idea to start saving money and being a little more conservative with your spending and/or pay down debts to free up some cash. You don't know what kind of emergency may befall you, and having spare money for an emergency is never a bad idea.

There is a possibility that the cost of many things you rely on might go up, if Trump goes through with his tariffs plan. You will want to plan for that.

Food costs may also rise due to tariffs (we import a lot of food from Mexico and Latin America for example) as well as a loss of immigrant labor. There is also a possibility that food safety standards could fall due to overturning regulations. Now would be a good time to look into local food resources like farm share/CSA, community farms, etc., and to stock up on a few key staples like rice and beans.

Okay. Now that YOU are reasonably safe...what can you do to protect your community?

Step Three: Get Involved

Here is your mission: You need to stay engaged enough to know what's going on, without burning yourself out or exhausting yourself, and to take actual decisive actions instead of wasting your energy arguing on the internet.

Got that? Okay. Good. Here are some action steps:

Support independent journalism. Subscribe to local papers, donate to and watch public broadcast programming. I signed up for news from ProPublica, for example, as well as the news-roundup service What The Fuck Just Happened Today. The goal is to stay informed without falling down an endless rabbit hole of upsetting information.

Share news and resources with others in your circle. This can be a good use of social media. It's what I am doing right now!

If it is safe for you to do so, challenge and educate your friends/family members/neighbors/coworkers. Only if it is safe for you to do so. Do not put yourself at risk doing this. And do not waste your time arguing with people who are unlikely to change. But if you have well-meaning people in your life who you think could be won over, look for opportunities to do this - the right way. I've had some success with this, I will probably write a guide about it in the future. In the meantime, here's a good article that can help.

Join local grassroots activism groups. You'll have to do some work to decide what groups to join and which causes you want to support, because you cannot do everything. But there are tons of organizations taking direct action in all kinds of causes. Search "grassroots [cause] activists in [where you live]" to start finding things. Once you get involved in one group, you might meet people who can introduce you to other groups and causes. Yes, this means you will have to go outside and meet people. I'm sorry.

Join direct action groups. Same concept as above. You'll have to search in your area but once you know people it'll be easier to find more opportunities. Some of these groups may overlap. You might find direct action opportunities by engaging politically and vice versa. GO OUTSIDE AND TALK TO PEOPLE WHO ARE DOING THINGS TO HELP.

Get involved in local politics. Here are some quick tips. A lot of things are affected at the city level - stuff like book bans and bathroom bills are often battled first at local libraries and schools, and you can be part of those conversations! Sheriffs are elected and can have a big influence on local policing. Local elections affect how tax dollars are spent, how homeless populations are treated, and lots more. Don't snooze on local elections. Get involved and stay involved.

Look up your representatives. Get in the habit of calling, emailing, and writing letters. Figure out what legislature is being passed and then call your reps and harangue them about it - both to support bills you approve of and shoot down ones you don't. Sign petitions. Join email campaigns. Here's one you can go sign right now from the ACLU. See? Not that scary.

I think a lot of people figure that getting involved in politics doesn't matter or that it's all small potatoes but...man. The president is not god, no matter what he thinks. The sitting administration is not the sole power in the universe. There is an entire machine of government we can lean upon and act upon.

Finally, some general safety notes:

Some forms of direct action are not legal. Take steps to be safe if you choose to partake. Follow the lead of more seasoned activists for what forms of communication to use and so forth.

If you're not willing or able to put yourself at legal risk to act, you can help others by donating to bail funds and legal defense funds.

We've already seen this in some areas, and it will only get uglier - some bad actors are feeling emboldened by the change in regime and will misbehave. It's a good idea to learn some self-defense skills, in whatever way is comfortable to you, and brush up on some tenets of victimology that can help you stay safe. I'll write more about that in the future.

All right. That's all for now. It's by no means comprehensive...but should hopefully help you get started taking the next step. Stay safe out there.

[anghraine]

#oh op!!#I’d never considered the parallelism of lady Catherine and Mr Bennett#I feel like perhaps lady Catherine’s treatment of her charge (Anne) and her expectations of her as this grand lady as equates some how to#the possible road Darcy could have gone down with Georgianna#this is a half baked thought but anyways#you put it all into words very well here#1000000/10 (via @a-mythologynerd)

Thank you! I think that's a great reading, actually—Georgiana isn't in poor physical health or a fragile waif in appearance the way Anne is, but she's shy, vulnerable, and respects Darcy's force of personality and conviction to the point of near-awe (for instance, when the narrator briefly shifts to Georgiana's perspective, we find her believing "his judgment could not err"). It would be really easy for Georgiana to be completely overshadowed by him the way Anne has become this total nonentity in the shadow of the behemoth that is Lady Catherine's personality.

(This even extends to appearance, even though Georgiana doesn't look like Anne. Elizabeth notices on her first introduction to the Rosings ladies that while Anne isn't plain, she's forgettable and looks nothing like Lady Catherine; upon meeting Georgiana, Elizabeth thinks she's womanly and pleasant-looking but not as beautiful as Darcy. Elizabeth is not unbiased in either case, but it does seem that Darcy is physically and in demeanor a much more striking person and presence than Georgiana, much as Lady Catherine is re: Anne.)

I think we see some interesting indicators about this, actually, in Darcy's remarks about Georgiana to Lady Catherine, when Georgiana isn't even there. Lady Catherine is pushy and overbearing about Georgiana in a way that would undoubtedly overwhelm timid Georgiana if she were there. Darcy's responses are civil enough but equally clear and forceful in insisting that Georgiana does not need to be pressured.

From what we see of his relationship with his sister, Darcy seems to know how easy it would be for him (much less Lady Catherine!) to crush Georgiana's spirit without much effort. While he's a very present quasi-parental authority figure in Georgiana's life, he's clearly careful about providing opportunities for her to express things—he defends her constant musical practice, Georgiana talks more when he's around, he encourages Georgiana to join him in social niceties without putting it all on her, they write long letters to each other, etc. Anne doesn't receive this kind of careful nurturing (and as far as we know, she's never come as near to danger as Georgiana did—yet Darcy's approach to Georgiana doesn't seem at all determined by l'affaire Wickham). The Darcy siblings' relationship could end looking very much like Lady Catherine's with Anne given the temperaments involved, but instead Darcy is evidently going to a lot of pains to make sure that doesn't happen.

In a way, that (inverted) parallel reminds me of how Darcy and Lady Catherine are also paralleled in terms of their authority over the many people under their power. Both are highly active, involved authority figures in what they see as their social responsibilities where Mr Bennet is an irresponsible procrastinator (Elizabeth is nowhere near as bad as Mr Bennet, but doesn't appear to ever think about social responsibilities reaching beyond her own genteel/upper mercantile world until she meets Mrs Reynolds—by contrast to someone like Emma). There's almost a Mirror universe quality to how Darcy's proactive concern for those under his power has its recognizable but much worse counterpart in Lady Catherine sallying forth to settle her cottagers' disagreements, silence their complaints, and "scold them into harmony and plenty."

Even Lady Catherine's officious interference with Darcy's marital choices based on a plan for him made years earlier with Lady Anne has its echo in Darcy's own interference with Bingley's marital choices. Lady Catherine's motives are tied up with her relationship with her sister, with the prestige and wealth her daughter would gain (and her aggressive advancement of said daughter's interests), with her desire for an effective merger between the Darcy and de Bourgh properties via the Fitzwilliam connection (something that would benefit all three families including Lady Catherine), etc. It's not a villainous plot against Darcy, but a plan in which, on paper, everyone stands to benefit enormously (Darcy most of all, in fact)—but there's an obvious element of self-interest and self-aggrandizement in it for Lady Catherine, too.

Similarly, Darcy's motives are tied up with his relationship with his sister, who he'd like to marry Bingley. I'd argue that, socially, Bingley is far beneath what Georgiana could expect in the ordinary course of things, but not so far as to be inappropriate, and he's personally kind and gentle in ways that would be really good for Georgiana in a few years after what she's been through. But the convenience of the Darcys can't dictate Bingley's life choices and he doesn't see Georgiana that way at all.

At the same time, Darcy is also motivated by concern for Bingley's future, social advancement, and happiness based on a genuine belief that Jane is admirable but doesn't love Bingley. And Elizabeth herself earlier argued that someone who doesn't know Jane is very likely to reach that conclusion—she thought that was a good thing and Charlotte that it's unwise on Jane's part, but they agreed that it was probable before Darcy ever started evaluating Jane's behavior. His approach feels less obnoxious than Lady Catherine's because he's a more complex, intelligent, nuanced, and principled character than his aunt, and because he himself soon recognizes his misjudgment when it's pointed out to him (in very unfavorable circumstances!) and eventually takes active steps to fix things. So again, there are important differences in the finer points here—but we can still see an echo in Lady Catherine of the kind of person Darcy could be if he just lets himself follow his inclinations.

That's a lot of rambling, but I hadn't fully thought of the extra parallels/contrasts between them as parental figures, so I appreciate it!

I'm drafting a long semi-headcanon post as I try to phrase it properly, but I'm tired right now so I'll just leave you with the conclusion:

Mr Bennet has made Elizabeth into the closest feasible approximation of the son he wanted and never had, and relates to her through that framework as much as possible. Meanwhile, Lady Catherine can't quite acknowledge that her literal daughter is a disappointment to her, and instead just openly fantasizes about a totally unrecognizable version of Anne that has never existed. Her real spiritual daughter is Darcy.

[blitzsicedcoffee]

Stolitz's "not breakup" tells us a LOT about Blitz's history with dating.

We can see that he thought Stolas would immediately take him back when he put on that fuckboy persona. And that they'd have go back to the "way things were". That's probably what he's done to recover from fights in all his past relationships.

But Stolas sees right through it and tells him how much it hurts him. How hurt he is and how he can see how fake his persona is, and attempts to force him to open up. And for a second he actually does! Before going to his defense mechanism of deflection.

The difference of Blitz with Stolas after Apology Tour than with all other relationships he's been in, is that we get to see what happens when he thinks that he's been discarded. When he's unable to tell Stolas fully how he feels or even admit to himself how he feels and dances around the subject.

He asks Stolas while he's drunk about it all because it's low risk. Because he's afraid of the feelings. And if he's had feelings like this before with other people and afraid of letting people in, this makes sense.

Then when he tells with his body language for Stolas to go with BTB guy, that's when he gives up. He feels as if he isn't worth staying for. That instead of getting hurt further, it's better to push them away.

Something that he probably did with every single other person at that party. And they took it as "ghosting" them. And then they never follow up about it. They just stew in their anger.

The difference with Stolas is I don't think he can love anyone else. And Blitz will have to be shown that he IS wanted. That he IS worth staying for. Someone to look his way.

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

You wake up in the comfort of your home, snuggled in thick fluffy sheets. Despite the cold, birds still chirp outside advising you to start your day already. You stay in bed a little longer today, staring out the window, trying to get a hold of your thoughts.

It's been a good few days since you left that Orcs house, a few days to think about the experience and mull over what to do next.

You jolt out of your thoughts when you see, out the window, quick anxious scampering behind the snow covered bushes. Jumping out of bed, you hastily get dressed, fumbling with your boots and grabbing your trusty bow hanging by the door and a few arrows. You peek outside, sneaking as quietly as possible on the old wooden floor of the stoop, arrow already notched against the bowstring. You can only see the critters ears, twitching, listening for any trouble. It's either a rabbit or a hare, you hope for the latter.

You wait there for a good fifteen minutes, bow strung, waiting for the thing to move just a little to the left of the bush for a better shot. Your fingers burn on the string, didn't have time to grab your gloves. The second it hops slightly out of the bush, you let go of the arrow and send it flying right into the cotton tailed critter.

When you step back inside your warm cottage, you make a beeline for the kitchen with the hare in your hand. It's quite a lucky catch, a large jack. You use this as an excuse, you actually come up with plenty excuses while you prepare a hearty stew. "There's so much meat here, it would be wrong not to share." "If I don't repay him, it'll weigh on me for far too long." "I need to bring him his flask back." "I need a good hike anyway."

Stupid rationales for the absurd idea you have conjured up. Nevertheless, you get out your fanciest ceramic pot and cook your best hare stew. You fret, far more than you'd admit, over how little ingredients you have due to the winter. Come afternoon, and you're trekking the woods, past the Human territory and into unwelcomed lands. You clutch the handle of the basket holding your steaming pot of stew tightly inside and his flask, which you filled with your favourite Red bush tea. This is just so you're even and then you never have to think about this Orc ever again.

Somewhere in your mind you know that's not true, You'll never be able to forget what happened. You were content in your woods, pretending you weren't lonely, why has this Orc changed that? It was easy pushing the cravings down before why is the hunger suddenly so present, so consuming.

You eventually step into the clearing where his home lies, Your thoughts continue to meander as your feet take you straight to the steps into his home. Now, you can't just leave it out for him but you can't just knock on the door and run away either...

You knock on the door three times, taking a deep breath and then cursing yourself for needing to do that. What if he doesn't want to see you again? Sure, he saved you from dying but that doesn't mean he'd want you in his home ag-

The door opens slowly, it takes you a minute to look up from the stone floor of the small veranda but when you do, it's those same dark brown eyes looking back at you. He looks shocked to see you, you expected as much. After a few awkward moments of staring, you hold the basket up with both hands, opening the top to reveal the red ceramic pot and his flask. He looks down at the parcel with a rather blank expression and it makes your skin crawl with anxiety. You gesture for him to take the basket and he quickly, with frustratingly gentle hands, takes it from you. He takes a peek inside the pot, letting the built-up steam poor out and his eyes grow even wider, you can't tell if he likes it or not and it's killing you.

Of course he didn't want to see you. The last time you were together he woke up to you, a stranger, on top of him watching him sleep! Your face is hot with shame, you turn to leave but then hear him say something in Orcish, you turn around to face him. You're a little taken back to see the hopeful look in his eyes as he holds the door open for you, waiting for you to accept his invitation.

Timidly, you step inside. Being here again sends a shiver down your spine. The Orc gently rests the basket on his little (in comparison to him) living room table, then heads to the kitchen. He comes back with a tray of two bowls, two mugs and cutlery. It shocks you how easily you take his silent invitation to stay for dinner as you both set the table as if it's a normal thing for basically strangers to do. While he dishes up hearty portions of steamy stew in rather large bowls, you pour the red tinted tea into the two mugs he brought.

You sit down on opposite sides of the wooden table and dig in. The spoon, like the bowl, is rather big and made out of what appears to be a hard dark wood. As you taste your stew, doubts trickle into your mind. Is it too runny? Is the meat too tough? Do Orcs prefer tougher meat? Is it too bland for him?

The scrape of his chair on the floor interrupts your thoughts and you look up at him. He's scooping up more stew with the serving spoon and plopping it into his empty bowl. You stare at him bewildered, he's already going for seconds. How did he even swallow all that so fast?

He notices you staring and looks embarrassed, like he's done something wrong. You shake your head lightly and gesture for him to continue. He smiles rather bashfully for an Orc and plops another spoon full onto his heaped bowl. You hide the smile that creeps onto your face behind a hot mug of tea.

After the pot has been thoroughly emptied and your stomachs are full, he starts clearing up his side of the table. You go to follow but he swiftly takes your bowl from you, sets it on the tray with everything else and walks off to the kitchen. For a second you sit rather dumbly at the empty table, the sound of splashing water comes from the kitchen as you look around the Orc's abode.

Your eyes are drawn to a packed bookshelf in the corner, you try not to be that impressed that an Orc would willingly read so many books. You imagine you would be pretty insulted if someone said that about you, and you know full well that reading is a lovely way to pass the time in such a quiet life as yours and his.

He steps back into the room holding two mugs of what was left of the tea, you suppose that means he likes it? He places them on the small table in front of the couch and takes a seat. He doesn't show any indication that he expects you to sit with him but you find yourself sinking down next to him anyway.

He picks up a little book on the low table and pages through it, it's green with bold Orcish on the front. You try to seem uninterested with what he's doing, staring down at your tea until he shuffles closer to you, pointing to a specific page in the book. You scrunch your eyebrows and lean closer, reading the text he's pointing to.

"Thank you."

Your breath catches and you read further down the page, seeing bold Orcish words followed by Human Common words.

It's a translation book.

You laugh (more like wheeze) in surprise and disbelief. The Orc looks nervous, looking back at the book to make sure he pointed to the right word. You gently take the book from him and page through it, searching.

After quite a while you finally find it, in what you assume is the "Helpful phrases" section and point it out for him.

"You're welcome."

He lets out a hearty laugh and you grin at the sound. You made him laugh. His eyes crinkle, deepening the crows feet just above his cheeks which seem a darker green than before.

After that you sit together in quiet comfort, drinking the rest of your tea and peeking at the words in his book as he pages through the translations. The book is new, the spine isn't creased from use and the pages are still firm and fresh. Did he get this book because of you?

The thought stirs something strange in your belly and you can't tell if you should invite it in or reject it. Your eyes shift to the window near the door and you jump when you see the sun is setting. How has it been that long?

You rise from the couch and grab your basket, shoving your now clean ceramic pot into it. The Orc looks at you confused, looks towards the window, and then shoots up himself, quickly heading to the kitchen. You shrug your fur coat on at the door and wait patiently for him to return, basket in hand.

He returns with the same flask he gave you the last time you left in a hurry. He may be even more bashful this time he hands it to you and you don't need to open it to know what's inside. You nod your head again in thanks and he smiles wider than you'd think an Orc capable, if you hadn't met him, that is.

You walk out of his house, flask tucked in your basket. When you reach the end of the clearing you turn around and there he is, standing on the veranda watching you leave. You hesitate for a moment and then give him a little wave goodbye. He returns it with his own.

As you walk through thick trees you wonder if the nearby human village has a book vendor. Not for any particular reason.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

<- Previous

[for-those-who-wait]

Hey I think I asked you about your Detroit become human au before a bit ago but I love the idea so much! I know you’re super busy but if you can I would love to see more about it!

Sorry for asking about it again I’m just really interested in it. 😭🙏

No please don't be sorry I love to talk about it whenever I'm not creatively bankrupt!! I'm just sorry it took so long for me to actually think of new stuff to add

I had some of these doodles already prepared but never really finished them up until I came up with a cute little idea

I didn't think of where to put in Flapjack until I remembered that android animals existed, and then I had a brain blast moment where I realized that Hunter can still talk to Flapjack! They are little android buddies, they can interface and talk and be friends!! I think it would also help to make him feel a bit more comfortable with his identity as an android to be able to have his little buddy to have fun private conversations with. Camila introduces them (maybe he had gotten hurt by a previous owner and she found him and let Gus fix him up) and Hunter is a bit tentative about it at first, but Flapjack is adorable and sweet and quickly wins him over

I just now had the idea that Gus, since he's super into android stuff, would probably be a big resource for software and hardware difficulties. Oh, you fell and your arm is working kinda wonky? Call up Gus, he'll crack you open and take a look. The dude doesn't mind in the least, he freaking LOVES going down mechanical and coding rabbit holes to better understand how androids work. I like to think that if Hunter ever got hurt and chose not to accept help because of body/species dysphoria, Gus would be a really good resource for him to try and feel as normal as possible while he's getting fixed. Gus is his brother and he loves him and they're just good to each other okay? Gus would probably crack some jokes or something to get Hunter's mind off it, or infodump about android organs or something (and Hunter would be begrudgingly interested because they are nerds, and Hunter is interested in androids too underneath all the problems he has with deviancy. Like dude they're robots, what's not to love?)

Also some Gus being so over Hunter's "androids can't feel love" phase featuring Vee and Masha being very adorable and very obviously in love :) Hunter is a very silly stupid man. He will find any way to make literally everyone exempt from the terrible rules Philip fed him, except for himself

I'm trying to think of a potential situation that would parallel Hunter's possession, and I think it would probably be basically the same thing that happens in Connor's deviant path (when he deviates and joins the revolution as an ally) where Amanda (a separate AI in his programming that's basically how CyberLife keeps him in check) takes over Connor's programming last minute to try and put a stop to the revolution.

So my current thought is that Philip is basically using Hunter as a trojan horse. His main programming is to act and believe like he's a normal human but similar to Connor, he's basically a sleeper agent without knowing. I imagine that once Hunter gains access to his software (thanks to Vee and Gus), he starts finding programs and files that are labeled as pretty scary things. He shouldn't have to know the most efficient way to shut an android down or incapacitate a human.

If and when Philip finally goes looking for Hunter and sees the first android he's seen in Gravesfield besides Hunter (aka Vee), he's not going to take that well.

I haven't drawn anything for it but so far I'm thinking that he takes control of Hunter's programming, maybe through some taking advantage of his interfacing system, and locks him in his own head a la Connor and Amanda to sic him after Vee and Flapjack (assuming that Philip's main goal, similar to both canons, is to eradicate deviants). It's likely that his friends will try to apprehend him, Vee or Gus will try (and maybe fail a couple times) to delete the programming while Camila deals with Philip. The guy is old and decrepit and Camila would absolutely whoop his ass with the ease of swatting a fly.

Things will be fine; Vee is all good and they manage to delete whatever programming screwed with Hunter's control, but that kid is going to be HELLA anxious about interfacing again from then on since he's afraid of 1) losing his own control and 2) potentially passing the virus onto someone else. It could go two ways at that point: Hunter could either kill Flapjack since Flapjack is technically a deviant android and therefore a target, or we can be nice and let Flapjack live to help him heal from this brand-new trauma.

So yeah hopefully that sates some curiosity! I'm glad you're interested in it because I honestly really love to think of new stuff whenever my brain decides to work hahaha

[purgaytorysupremacy]

as the grandchild of survivors of the Second World War on both sides, this has been a really hard thing for me to internalize. none of my grandparents (nor my parents) talked about WWII much. I don’t actually know that much about what my families were doing, only that it was bad. I have an entire branch of my family tree that’s just gone and (supposedly) no one knows why. where I grew up in Canada had a lot of Holocaust survivors because we had large Dutch and German communities already, and every year until I graduated high school, we were fortunate enough to hear firsthand stories from survivors.

the one thing my grandparents would say and those survivors would repeat in their talks, over and over, until it was seared in my brain: “Never look away. You can’t let this happen again. The least you can do is never look away.”

I took this lesson very seriously. I was plugged in to the news all the time. I felt so helpless and useless and hopeless, but I wasn’t going to do the people suffering through it the disservice of looking away. I donated my money and my time and hoped to get into international aid, even joined the military because Canada is the nation of peacekeepers (Listen, I was a kid lol) and Gen. Roméo Dallaire, the Canadian who led the peacekeeping mission in Rwanda, was my hero. (Even as it ruined his life.)

I don’t know if anyone reading this had this same experience. I don’t know many people IRL who had this message drilled in so completely. (Being a white first-generation Canadian as a millennial is like that sometimes.) And I ended up breaking. I just couldn’t keep watching everything and being utterly unable to do a damn thing about it. It made me feel like a bad person and like I failed not only my grandparents but all those who shared their stories, so few of them who are still alive to do so.

Thing is, my grandparents got their news from film reels and this new thing called radio. The photos and documentation they saw from the time, both now and contemporaneously, was sparse and edited and targeted, for better or worse. None thought we would someday live in a world where individual people can upload hours of no-context atrocities from anywhere at any time.

Obviously, the “Never Again” and “Don’t look away” aren’t literal, but the way we pay attention now is different than they would’ve in the 1940’s or 1970’s. No one taught me how to stay true to something that has become a core value while not collapsing into compassion and empathy fatigue to the point where I have to look away.

I don’t have an answer on that balance yet, but just understanding that there does need to be one has been incredibly helpful. That doomscrolling isn’t helping anyone. That paying attention doesn’t mean knowing everything about everything at all times. We have more information by orders of magnitude than even existed in my grandparents’ lifetimes. We have to choose what “not looking away” looks like for each of us in the cultural and activism environments we live in. No one is more virtuous or caring because they’ve exposed themselves to more trauma than someone else. It’s not sustainable. You’ve gotta keep your oxygen mask on.

A video that was really helpful in me noodling this out—it’s been a lifelong project, and I’m sure it will continue to be—was Hank Green’s vlog on Webs of Care.

None of us can do everything, but all of us can do anything.

Hi. Things are bleak, I know that. I know that we paid for Trump's last term with blood and it is likely the price will be blood again.

But listen to me. LISTEN.

You do not have to force yourself to witness horrors as an act of activism. It is not a form of activism. You can put your phone down, you can block that horrific video. We cannot win if you cannot fight and you will not be able to fight if you are hopeless.

Do not let them guilt you into this. People who are exhausted are easier to walk over. Take care of yourself, find community where you find joy.

[fandoms-in-law]

Sweet Hate

Summary: Eddie has an unconventional way to reassure Steve he won't be silent if he gets dissatisfied in their relationship

Authors Note: Based off the McFly song 'Hate Your Guts' It seemed like a good song for a relationship that came from an enemies to lovers trope like Steddie often gets seen as.

/\

It started as a reassurance and a joke.

Steve had only been dating Eddie for a month when he explained what happened with Nancy and his fears of it happening again, of not knowing when someone he dated wasn’t as into the relationship as him.

Eddie had nodded at it all, gotten annoyed, then told Steve in many ways that he’d never do that to him, ending with, “I promise if I ever hate your guts, I’ll tell you immediately. Will you do the same?”

Steve agreed, missing the scheming glint in Eddie’s eyes.

~

They’d been having a quiet afternoon. Eddie was painting some minifigs while Steve pottered with various things around the trailer when he broke the quiet by sneezing loudly. Eddie startled enough his paintbrush almost covered the figure he’d been close to finishing.

“Bless you. I hate you. You couldn’t have held that until I wasn’t holding a brush?” He complained, stretching and leaning close to see if he could save it.

“Nope, could you wipe it off?” Steve asked, wandering over to look at it as well, only quietly adding “Just annoyed? Not actually hate?” quietly into Eddie’s shoulder once there.

Eddie grinned over his shoulder, “Just annoyed.” He reassured, “And maybe. Oh, it could be a backstory thing too.” With that he was grabbing a tissue and entirely focused on the minifig again.

~

Since the first time Eddie had done it the paid had fallen into the habit of declaring their hatred at the smallest things. For Steve if was generally in private, because he’d just go with the flow for a lot of social things, but wanted spaces to be tidy or organised which Eddie struggled with. Eddie however would declare hatred at least a couple times during each hang out and even if they spoke if it was something they’d need to work out, and knew if it was a dumb complaint, they started to get concerned looks from the kids again.

It all led up to Dust in Eddie’s doorstep one morning, upset and confused and resolute on getting answers over why the two people he’d tried so hard to make get along didn’t again.

“Why do you hate Steve?” Dustin demanded as soon as he was let into the Munson trailer.

Eddie shrugged, glancing behind him to the door hiding Steve in his room, still asleep. “I don’t hate him. I love the guy. He’s brilliant.”

“You literally always say you hate him.” The counter was annoyed and paired with a glare even as the kid fell back on the sofa as if he was the one that lived there.

He shook his head, not really sure how to explain why he did that to other people. “It’s not meant and he knows that. It’s just a thing we do.”

“I thought you were dating but you keep saying you hate him all the time.” Dustin grumbled, clearly not believing or not listening to him.

The door to his room opens and out comes Steve, yawning and smiling sleepily. “It’s sweet and I say it back. Like this, Eddie, I hate your guts. I got none of the blankets until you got up today.”

“Not sure how to solve that one Sweetheart, maybe we need separate blankets for sleeping.” Eddie mused, ignoring Dustin gaping between them.

After a moment to be stunned Dustin exclaimed, “How is it sweet to declare hatred all the time?”

“Just is.” was all the explanation given as Steve decided to help himself to breakfast.

~

After that scene the kids still frowned at them some, but seemed less concerned over it. Will once or twice tried suggesting over ways to communicate but didn’t worry if they were ignored.

Robin however had also noticed them and the only thing preventing her from speaking up sooner had been that Steve still seemed happy, almost happier than he had when he first started dating Eddie, she thought.

It still wasn’t something she could entirely ignore though, so one shift when Eddie hadn’t snuck in, she had to ask, “Steve? Are you happy?”

“Yes, why?” He replied automatically, focused on rewinding the returns that had been dropped in during the pre-work rush.

“You’re dating Eddie, but-” She broke off, unsure how to continue and hoping he’d figure out what she was talking about.

Steve turned to her, leaning against the wall now. “But?”

She huffed, just saying as quickly as she could, “He keeps saying he hates you, like everyday.”

“Nah, he loves me. It’s a sweet thing.” Steve corrected though he didn’t argue over how much it happened.

“Sweet?” She asked, confounded, “Normally I can follow your brain, but how is saying he hates you sweet?”

Steve shrugged, swapping the tapes over as the one he’d put in finished rewinding. “I worried he’d hide it from me if he wasn’t into me any more, so he started this. Every small peeve gets said so we can sort it. I just do it less around everyone.”

“But ‘I hate you’?” She asked, feeling entirely stuck on how that could be sweet in any world.

“I check if he means it if it’s too seriously said.” Steve smiles softly, looking at her imploring her to understand.

Robin smiled back, nodding and relaxing, “Okay Dingus. Just know I’m here if it stops being sweet.”

“I know.”