#not as coherent as I wanted to make this post be but I’ll worry about making sphny sense later

[kopfkino-o]

Three Sisters: The Beacons of Change

Been a minute since I yapped on the internet and I’m bored on a long layover so here we go! A few housekeeping items before we dig in:

This post is pro Nesta, Feyre, and Elain. I love them all.

Some of the discourse involves pro-Elriel ramblings. This post is largely about Elain herself, so I’ll be including her general tag in this post, but wanted to make note of the Elriel discourse in case that isn’t your cuppa.

A huge shoutout to @jasmineandcedar and @nikachansstuff for the inspiration on this post. Their post/comment largely inspired this.

My thoughts are never coherent and all of this is just my opinion. Also I didn't edit this whatsoever lmao.

If any of these things aren’t for you, no worries, but peace out Girl Scout, keep on keeping you're peace. If you're interested and ready to read more then let's get on into it!

One interesting theme I picked up on within the ACOTAR series is change. More specifically, inciting change on not only a personal level, but also on the societal level. And I’m of the mind that each sister is meant to spark some sort of change, both within themselves as they get their healing arc, but also within the greater Prythian society as they come into power.

Let’s start with Feyre darling.

The First High Lady

Before Feyre came to Prythian, before her story, there were no High Ladies. Or at least the history of them were lost to society as we learned in the CC3 series. Females were not welcome to the role of 'High Lady'. They were not equals to the High Lords, even as their mates.

But with Feyre’s rebirth, with her sacrifice as the Curse Breaker, she rose to power in a way that changed fae society. She was the first High Lady. And we can see that this change spread with Viviane becoming the High Lady of Winter.

Feyre, as a monarch, represents ruling power. The power to command. She is the Crown. And with her character arc she brought change to Prythian in that she opened the door for other High Ladies to take their thrones. She challenged the misogynic lens on which Prythian viewed political leaders and proved that women can have their own political power.

The Valkyrie Reborn

Before Nesta, before her being Made, the Valkyries were lost to the world. The systems in place, largely those in Illyria as we saw in the forefront of her novel, believed women couldn’t be warriors. That they were lesser, weaker.

But with Nesta’s healing, and the revival of the Valkyries alongside Emerie and Gwyn, she challenged this. A challenge that was overcome in the Blood Rite.

With Nesta, she proved that women can have physical power. That they can be warriors. She brought about the rebirth of the Valkyries: an all female army. She challenged yet another societal (and misogynistic) standard within Prythian.

The Bondbreaker

Warning: Pro-Elriel content below

Like her sisters, I think Elain Archeron will also challenge an aspect of Prythian society. But the way she changes society and challenges it will be different than that of her sister's. Like Elain's personality, I believe her own defiance will be softer. Rooted in the heart and emotions.

But damn will it be a choice that radiates through the narrative.

As it stands in Prythian, mating bonds are sacred. Holy. They’re something not to be questioned, no matter what. As we learn from Rhys, some mates aren’t even true matches in spirit, but the bond is regarded so highly that females accept it any way, despite what they want for themselves for their lives. For their hearts.

Tamlin's parents and Rhysand's own mother and father are excellent examples of mated pairs who aren't "true pairings of souls". And I'd argue that SJM introduced these pairings to the narrative as a way to hold a mirror up to Elain's own mating bond.

I believe Elain will challenge this societal standard by rejecting her mating bond. Autonomy and freewill is a huge theme with her character and rejecting the bond would be the culmination of this. More of my yapping on this can be found here.

Elain's choice would also be a sign to other females with unwanted bonds that they too have a choice. That the bonds don’t always know best. That perhaps the Cauldron doesn't always know best. Elain’s rejection of the bond would spark change in Prythian, just like her sister’s arcs sparked change.

Note: Yapped a bit about the lore drops in CC3 and the implications of it in my post here. I personally believe there's two forces warring in the Cauldron (the Mother v. the Asteri's corruption) and believe it raises some interesting implications...

The TLDR: Each Sister is a Beacon of Change

Feyre, the monarch, challenged the system surrounding females in positions in power. With her, the role of High Ladies was reborn and the stigma in Prythian surrounding female leaders was fought.

Nesta, the warrior, challenged existing systems surrounding the strength and validity of female warriors. Through her, the Valkyries were reborn.

With Elain, I theorize that she'll lead a quieter rebellion. But one long overdue. She'll challenge the issue of fate, of the Cauldron's eddies and the Mother's will, over the heart. She'll challenge the heart. The bond. And stand in defiance of it.

okkk bye!

[sphnyspinspin]

Hiiiii guys…

Uhh…so…my brain has been sort of….wacky—you could even say silly—at the moment.

I’ve been like SUPER distracted as of lately, but not for the reason that you might think. Since I haven’t communicated with ANY of my mutes as of late, and with the lack of #sphny speaks (𖦹<𖦹)•*°⊹ posts giving small updates about how I’m doing, I’ve admittedly, accidentally, forgotten that I had a tumblr for a sec. BUT IM BACK, AND EVERYTHING’S AWESOME AGAIN DONT WORRY!

…

So I’ve been thinking about, maybe, switching things up around here. And what I mean by that is… I may or may not be considering turning this blog into a multi-fandom sort of thing. I’ve been feeling a bit bold, a little silly, even a little goofy, but best rest assured I’m still very much the same Sphny you all know and love ;3.

Now that that’s out there, I kinda wanna show you guys art of my persona—SO HERE YOU GO!

The reason I’m saying this is because right now I’m thinking about getting back into the Minecraft fandom—NOT THE MCYT FANDOM—the Minecraft lore-ish fandom. Well, I mean I do watch snid-bits of Hermitcraft, Life Series, and old Minecraft lore recaps—and I know that doesn’t help my case like, at all.

What I’m trying to say is that I’ve been wanting to get into other fandoms, but have been a little bit scared to considering Transformers in general has pretty much changed, and saved, my life. I’m not so much as making this out to be an update post, but more like an official personal marker about how I treat my new hyperfixations from now on without being concerned about continuity and consistency. Which honestly felt like a lingering limit I unknowingly set for myself without bothering to look into why I set it in the first place.

So 👏 see ya when I get other stuff done—BYYYYEEE!

[lilacxquartz]

eat you up;

toji fushiguro x f!reader

a/n: smuturday is now in session — i’ll be posting these on occasion whenever i have a piece ready, usually these wont go over a wc of 1k.

tags/themes: reader insert, drabble, cunnilingus, oral, praise, smut • w.c: ~800 • masterlist, read on ao3

“And you’re sure you’ll be able to breathe?” you asked Toji, who was staring at you from the bed with a half lidded look.

He hummed, curling his lips into a teasing smile. “Babe, trust me. Even if you do, that’ll be the way I want to go.”

“Not helping…” you sighed, staring down at your bare legs. This was so much hotter when it was something you were both talking about, but now you had cold feet.

Toji propped himself up to his elbows, serving you a slightly annoyed look. The man loved everything about how you were, from your personality to your body to everything else in between; it was almost insulting to him with how much you doubted yourself.

“I got you,” he murmured, patting down his chest as though to get you closer. “My beautiful doll, let me worship you.”

You tried to bite back your worries and shuffled closer towards him, kneeling and crawling over the bed and hovering over him with your bare skin.

His smile widened, taking in the sight of you on top of him. “Now there’s a sight I can’t get tired of…”

“How do I do this anyway?” you fretted, staring down at him.

“Keep crawling,” he encouraged you, “quite literally just… straddle my face.”

You whined a little bit but did as he told and climbed over him, leaning forward against the headboard while your knees anchored opposite his head parallel to one another.

“Like this?” you quietly asked.

Toji flicked his lips to a half smile, taking in the sight of you hovering above him. Your scent of arousal was right in his face and he was loving every second of it, feeling completely in his element. How lucky he had gotten with you, he couldn’t help but think.

“Exactly like that, babe,” he hummed, raising his chin up slightly as his fingers delicately parted at your sex, “just like that…”

The second his tongue found your clit, you couldn’t help but gasp slightly; Toji was an expert seemingly at knowing what he was doing and where to point and how to move to get you to squirm right above his face.

“So responsive,” he muttered, slightly sounding muffled in between your legs. He could feel himself growing warm in all senses of the word—slight hints of redness crept onto his face—while something far below stirred. God, he was growing so hard at the thought of getting you off.

His large hands moulded into the soft contours of your ass, squeezing at your flesh like it belonged to him. His eyes were half lidded and almost zoned out, as though he was already lost in the moment. Toji lapped up at your now fully swollen bud, sucking at the skin in a crazed fervour, intoxicated by just how much you squirmed.

His voice was low and almost breathless as he on and off whispered pretty snippets of loving praise. It was a miracle that you had even heard of these musings, given just how hard your heartbeat thundered in both your chest as well as pulsating in your ears as well as just how needy, whiny and almost pleading your moans were as they slipped out.

“You taste so good,” you would hear him mumble out, his grip on your legs tightening as much as he could without hurting you, “relax for me, let me take care of you…”

Your body started to quiver as your sense of balance quickly weakened; your hands gripped at the headboard that you kept yourself steady on but that was all quickly faltering. “You’re too good at this,” you added in a strained gasp, feeling the tightness in your stomach begin to contract and pass in radiating waves. “Toji… I’m gonna—“

“—keep going, let go for me, doll,” he almost growled between laps, his voice coming out as barely coherent but by his motivated tone you could just about make it out.

His hands guided you even further down so that you were essentially burying him with your sex, but he couldn’t have been happier; he licked at you like a man thoroughly starved, relishing the sensation of the way you grinded against jaw with anticipated hunger.

Unable to contain it for a second longer, your body convulsed and came undone, feeling all of the rising pressure in your core sweep into an apex point of gushing, shuddering release.

Toji of course only pushed himself further inward, so proud of you for finally getting more comfortable but also in a state of complete and utter bliss.

Finally, he could show you again and again just how much he appreciated you and he could hardly wait until the next time.

[urrockstar-xe]

i'll be right there, sweetheart - tasm!p.parker x fem!reader

posted nov 4th, 2023 12:50 am

i wrote this with one of my closest friends :D i needed andrew!peter and i needed comfort! i hope u like it as much as we do :)

summary: when reader gets into another argument with her brother, she needs her amazing spiderman to come and save her

masterlist

wordcount: 1.2k

“Can I come over?” your hushed and choked tone of voice had Peter standing up from the building ledge he had been sitting on, in seconds.

“Stay put, baby I’ll come to you, where are you? At home?” His voice was rushed but you could hear it fine considering the whooshing of the wind was heard in the background,

he was already swinging to your place.

“No, no, Pete, I need to come to yours I don’t want to be home right now, I got into another argument with my brother I just wanna see you, is that okay?”

Peter’s heart nearly stopped at the sound of your choked sob as you spoke, crumbling at just the sound of you crying, he was already worrying about the sight.

“Of course it's okay, sweetheart, I’m gonna come get you though alright? Meet on the roof?”

Through sniffles, you mumbled back a barely coherent “okay” to Peter as you had already started making your way to the roof of your apartment building, sighing at the sight of your spandex-clad boyfriend swinging through the city, still too far from you to hang up. 

“I’ll be right there, sweetheart, just wait for me okay? Hey! Look at that I see you! I mean i think, you’re still a little far” You couldn’t help but giggle at Peter’s words, you could practically hear his smile when you laughed.

“It’s me, Pete” you responded, walking closer to the edge in hopes it would make the wait seem shorter. 

“Yeah, it is, I know m’girl when I see her, I’m right here baby, I’m comin'” his constant reassurance of coming to be there for you had your heart swelling and almost willed more tears to form in your eyes as you hung up the phone when you saw that Peter was only a building away.

And there he was, his mask was tugged off the second his feet landed on the rooftop floor, hair messy and face red from the cold as he pulled you into a tight embrace, “I’m here baby, told you I’d be here” he mumbled into your hair, setting his hand on the back of your head as you sobbed into his shoulder. 

“I’m just so tired of the same fight, Pete” you cried, the words Peter had only ever read through text messages after you had similar situations like this but none to the point where you needed to get out of there. 

“I know, honey, I got you” Peter rubbed your back soothingly, pressing a few sweet kisses to your hairline before squeezing your frame once more. “Freezin' out here, let’s you get back to my place, yeah? May made meatloaf for dinner” you giggled into his shoulder, sniffling as you pulled back to put your arms around his neck and brace yourself to swing through the city. 

“I hate meatloaf” you quietly said into his neck as he gripped your waist properly, 

As he put his mask back on, Peter chuckled, “I know you do, honey” 

Without warning Peter started swinging, it was worse when you had a warning, gave you more time to overthink it and Pete definitely wasn’t risking that tonight of all nights. 

He could hardly feel your grip tighten but you felt his tighten every time he shot a new web until finally, he reached his window

This was the tricky part, getting inside his room with you in his arms, it typically ended in you hitting your head or Peter tripping the second he got inside, but this time he was as careful as he had ever been as if you were fragile, delicate, and at this point in time? you were, not that you’d admit it but you didn’t have to admit it with Peter.

he just knew.

Peter carefully slid the window up, helping you get your feet in and stand up straight before climbing inside himself, once more taking his mask off but it was soon followed by his entire suit as he rushed around his room to put on sweatpants and a hoodie. You just stood there for the most part, other than closing his window so he wouldn’t freeze while he was half-naked and running around for clothes. 

Any other time you’d make yourself at home, settle into his bed, even stroll downstairs, and say hi to May, but again, this time was different, you felt like you couldn’t move, not without Peter’s help anyway.

Peter of course caught onto this quite fast which was why he was so dead set on rushing back to you as fast as possible even if you were both still in the same room, the old Midtown High hoodie was barely over his head before he had swooped you up back into his arms and laid you down on his bed, nearly crushing you with his body weight.

Your hands found his hair in seconds, to anyone else this looks like you’re comforting him, but to you, this is exactly why weighted blankets exist.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked quietly, gently running his fingers up and down your arm. 

“No, thank you” 

Peter took note of the way your voice was still so quiet as if you would burst into tears again if you spoke any louder, “Okay, baby” 

He sat up just enough to see your face in full, ever so careful, he wiped the few remaining tears from your cheeks, along with the dried streaks that had been caused by the cold wind. 

“Did you eat? I can make you somethin?” you just shook your head in response before pulling him back down closer to you, “no? Okay, okay this works too” he mumbled into your shoulder, then he suddenly gasped as if he just remembered something. 

“What happened?” You asked, concern in your voice as he sat up, ignoring your question you watched as Peter quickly untied your Converse and pulled them off of your feet, carelessly tossing them somewhere in his room before he laid beside you, this time pulling you into him, running his fingers across your shoulders and entangling your legs.

Peter was once again thankful for the prototype web shooter he had been too lazy to move from his nightstand as he used it to shut off the light without getting up from the comfort of his bed or your arms. 

You two laid like this in a comforting silence for a few moments, Peter rubbing your back, your hands repetitively moving from his side and to his chest, he kept thinking you’d pull back to say something but you never did.

Not until after a few more minutes and you sighed, getting your boyfriend’s attention once more. 

“What is it, baby?” he whispered, as if speaking any louder would ruin the moment you were sharing. 

“I don’t know,” you whispered back, sounding unsure, Peter frowned, but he let you continue before commenting. “Thank you for coming to get me” was what you settled on for now.

A billion things ran through your mind, all different ways to show your gratitude for Peter but all that came out was a simple thanks, not that Peter minded. 

“‘M just glad you’re okay” he whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to your head. 

“I just don’t know what I’d do without you” You sighed once more after you spoke, gripping the material of his hoodie. 

Peter smiled, “It’s a damn good thing you don’t have to worry about that then huh?” 

Moving his hand down to your thigh, he moved it completely over his own, bringing you impossibly closer. 

“I’ll always be right there, sweetheart” 

[milkamel]

I just have to say I absolutely LOVE your kross pain sharing au, but it does make me wonder.

Who is dream, nightmare, blue, ink, error, ect soulmates or did some of them die with the overwhelming amount of pain (cough like nightmare and error cough)

But im genuinely curious, will they be shown in the fanfic or no. Ooooh the ecitement i have for up coming chapters when i make up theories, i also loved how you hc cross and all of the rest.

Just gotta say it again, im so very excited about upcoming chapters, no matter how slow you are at posting my patience will always remain for them!!!

Omg thank you sm!! 😭 I’m so happy ppl love this AU, though writing multichapter fanfic is a little harder than I anticipated (I never wrote anything like that before XD)

I want to keep their soulmates a secret right now, but everyone (except for Ink, who doesn’t have a soul at all) has a soulmate and some of the relationships are already established (no one’s dead :D). Hopefully, I’ll reveal Nightmare’s in the nearest chapters (I do have all the important plot points of the fanfic in mind, I just need to find a way to connect them smoothly)

I’ll try to show everyone in the fanfic and focus not only on kross, but other characters and some world-building too, it will differ from canon and I hope it’ll be coherent lol. And I’m glad you liked characterization as well I was worried about it the most (I felt like Cross was too nervous and timid, though I think it’s his POV that makes this impression)

I already wrote around 2k words for the next chapter, no idea whether this motivation will last or not but I’m not giving up on the fic any time soon 🫶

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

The importance of setting rules for your fictional universe

I talked about this a little in another recent post in terms of rules for character design (not any like…theory or rules for designing characters, but rather rules for WHY a character looks a certain way) and it made me think more about world building in general.

I’ll be talking mainly about Hellaverse stuff since it’s on my mind, at first because I rewatched HB and now again b/c the HH trailer dropped.

B/c I gotta be honest, I’m pretty sure the world of Hazbin Hotel is gonna fall flat for me the same way that Helluva Boss has.

And as a reminder, I’m not trying to bash Helluva and Hazbin. I enjoyed the recent Hazbin trailer, but I think it’s really important to examine and think about story stuff.

Critique/Review below!

I think one of, if not THE biggest thing keeping HB and HH from feeling like a fully realized world is that we don’t really have any rules or standards for what is considered “normal” in Hell.

And since there’s no baseline for what is considered moral and immoral in hell, characters and their reactions to violence, crime, verbal abuse, body shaming, etc. seem to switch rapidly between sharing an earthly human morality, where everything is mirroring our current day society, and an anything goes kill-steal-maim total anarchy ideology.

To me the HH/HB version of hell comes off like the purge, except actually there ARE some crimes that are off limits. Like murder is okay sometimes and of course there are assassins everywhere that’s just a normal freelance sort of business. But also there’s organized crime and if you steal from a bank you go to hell-jail.

For example, after “Exes and Oh’s”, I had assumed killing other Imps or hellborn must be considered a crime, the way that Crim’s behavior and killing of his underlings was portrayed as completely negative and horrific. But then remembered that Millie having a neighborhood body count due to getting too competitive is mentioned as a joke, and it’s pretty clear that her family thinks of it as more of an embarrassing incident than like…an actually terrible thing to do.

I thought, “Okay, we’ll, maybe it’s just Moxxie’s Mom that was against all the violence being taught to her son.” But apparently she’s from the Wrath ring, the same ring as Millie. So was Moxxie’s Nameless Mom seen as being particularly different or strange to the what a “typical” Wrath Imp is? We can’t know.

Like. We see that imps have romantic relationships and can care deeply about each other and fall in love, just like humans do. In reference to the neighborhood bodycount thing, were Millie’s neighbors not extremely upset with her? Wouldn’t they also grieve their loved ones? Is it sometimes socially acceptable to kill other Imps like in sporting events???

Are the rules for what is seen as socially acceptable for sinners different from what’s socially acceptable for hellborn? Are there different ideas of what is socially acceptable from ring to ring?

I worry that when I ask these questions about a fictional universe, people will think I’m TRYING to dig or look for things to tear that world apart.

I promise I’m thinking about these things so deeply out of curiosity and because I want to engage with the material.

I want to understand and have fun in the fictional universe the writers have invited us all to. But if the rules of your universe are not clear, it can make it much harder for audiences to navigate the story you are trying to tell in that setting.

The HH/HB universe just does NOT have that clarity right now. Since season 2 of HB I’ve noticed that the world building has become more and more inconsistent, and if it’s supposed to now SHARE that world with HH, I really don’t know how they’re going to make their world coherent.

As a final note these are just my opinions. They are not objectively right. If you love Hh and HB and firmly believe the story is clear and the world building makes sense that’s great!! Genuinely, I am happy that the story means a lot to you and you enjoy it. These are just my personal critiques and views.

[cruesuffix]

this was something that came to my head just a little before I went to bed so it might not be the most coherent thing. still…i post what i want so here’s that sweet cringe for whoever wants it. (side note: i kind of based this off of what happened to my pal ****** you know that one kpop idol? yeah…i guess this is sort of a crossover?? oh well, i’ll stop yapping now!)

At first it was just a slight discomfort. A twisting of his stomach that started in the middle of a gig. The band was nearing the end of a year spent recording an album and beginning the tour cycle. Christmas was in a couple of days and they would be getting a nice break for the holidays. The show went on, with Mick becoming more and more aware of the pain in his stomach. He wondered if he had eaten something bad the day before and he just happened to feel the effects of it while on stage. What terrible timing.

He forced himself to focus on his playing, reminding himself he could always rush to the bathroom after their set. He kept his head down, not wanting to look at Nikki or Vince and have them see how much pain he was in. As soon as the last note is played and bows have been taken, he rushed off stage in search of the first bathroom he can find. The pain is dull, and it throbbed throughout his abdomen. No matter how hard he pushed, nothing came out. He exited the bathroom feeling slightly uncomfortable and confused, but ultimately decided he was just a bit crampy.

That’s just how he was sometimes. Certain muscles got sore, felt achy, then went away. He caught up to the rest of the band who were heading towards the tour bus. They were supposed to head back to the hotel, pack their things and sleep so they could head to the airport early the next morning. He laid on one of the little couches in the tour bus, still feeling like absolute sht. Whenever someone tried to come up to him, sensing something was up, he bared his teeth at them and glared. He didn’t want to talk to anyone at that moment.

All he could think about was going back to his hotel room and going to sleep. He never unpacked any of his suitcases so he didn’t even have to worry about running around and cleaning up. He didn’t notice the rest of the guys have been looking at him. They weren’t surprised by his typical anti social behaviour, but they were surprised he never kicked up his feet and downed a beer like he usually did after a show. In fact, he looked incredibly uncomfortable, lying there on the couch almost in the fetal position. They didn’t know he even was able to fold himself into such position. They’d never seen him in such a way before.

When they finally arrived to their destination, they all piled out of the bus. Mick was the last one off and he couldn’t help but nearly drag himself out the bus. He was both tired and in pain so he took his time getting off and walking back to his room. Like always, his room was next to Nikki’s. He hoped Nikki didn’t go crazy and make too much noise like he usually did. He’d was actually dying to sleep that night and rid himself of whatever sickness he’d caught this time. All he could do when he got inside his room was flop on the bed and promptly close his eyes. He’s out like a light, still in leather pants and a t-shirt, leather jacket having been discarded as soon as he walked in.

The next morning, Mick felt himself being shaken awake. He cracked an eye open. If it was even possible, he felt worse than he did yesterday. The light in the room seemed so bright, he could barely open his eyes. A voice rang out, he could barely make out the words.

“…an’t you’re burning up, man!” The voice exclaimed. He squinted his eyes a bit just to figure out who the voice belonged to. He could barely focus, the only thing on his mind was how much pain he was in. His body felt like it was on fire, his insides feeling like they were being cooked. He wheezed out a breath and immediately felt nauseous. He could faintly hear footsteps rushing into the room, and someone replaced the person who was in front of him.

“…an you hear me? Hey, Mick are you ok?” Someone asked. He tried to nod his head, but just the sheer movement made him groan. His head was swimming and it was hard to focus on something. Someone dipped their head right into his face and he was forced to look at the person. As he focused on the features, he suddenly had a name for the person in front of him. Doc, their manager. He sighed in relief. Doc repeated his question and this time Mick shook his head.

“I-ugh, think I’m coming down with something.” He managed to tell him. Someone in the background shook their head.

“He’s burning up dude, he looks out of it. I don’t know what it could be, maybe an overdose?” The voice, Tommy’s, replied. Mick frowned. As if he’d do something stupid like that. No, he hadn’t taken any drugs the day before…at least not that he could remember. Besides, drugs were a Tommy and Nikki sort of deal, they usually weren’t Mick’s go to boredom buster.

“No, it’s my stomach. It- It was hurting real bad yesterday. I think I’ve got food poisoning or something.” He countered. He tried to bite down another groan as another harsh cramp hit his stomach.

Doc looked at him, just concerned at the image of the usually tough guitarist bent down and grasping onto his abdomen. He looked back to see Nikki peering into the room. Great, now they had an audience.

“Maybe we should get a doctor to check him out.” Nikki commented. Doc nodded, going to phone a medic. Nikki walked into the room and sat down next to Mick. The movement jostled the sick man, who finally allowed a small groan to escape. Nikki instinctively wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He pulled him closer, and was amazed at the fact that he hadn’t had an eye clawed out.

“What could you even eat to give you food poisoning? We’re in Florida not Japan!” Nikki lightly joked.

Mick didn’t answer him though. His eyes fluttered open and closed. He was sure he was either going to pass out or vomit all over Nikki. He was hoping for the former, he wasn’t sure he’d be forgiven if he puked all over his bassist. If he had been in better condition, he wouldn’t have slumped onto his bassist, head falling onto his shoulder. Nikki moved his arm from his shoulder to his waist, practically propping him up as they waited. When Doc came back, he brought a medic with him. The medic checked Mick out, while Nikki kept a firm hold on him. There wasn’t much the medic could do. He was sure Mick had come down with some kind of pneumonia, or even an infection. All he could do was turn to Doc and say something about a hospital. Nikki’s stomach sank. He had been hoping it was nothing too serious. Maybe a stomach bug that would go away on its own, or even an unserious case of food poisoning. Hearing the words pneumonia and infection put together in a sentence had him infinitely worried.

Doc motioned for the both of them to get up, but when Mick tried to, he could only groan and fold inwards. He clutched his stomach, whimpering at how fast the pain had gotten worse. Nikki took charge and tried picking the older man up, who could only clench his jaw to stop from screaming. Nikki immediately stopped and decided to turn around and let him climb onto his back. This seemed to work and, with Tommy in tow, he carried Mick with him. They followed Doc and the medic as they rushed to his car. Tommy shared a nervous look with Nikki the whole way round. They were both really hoping they wouldn’t have to lost their guitarist right when they hit their stride.

The whole car ride was tense. Nikki couldn’t stop shaking his leg and Tommy nervously conversed with Doc, who couldn’t deny him a simple distraction. Nikki found he couldn’t take his hands off the older man. Mick kept his eyes closed the whole ride, barely acknowledging Nikki’s nudges and questions. He simply melted into the touch, something he never once allowed himself to. Nikki’s surprised by this. It’s like finally taming a cat that’s hated you the whole time. He doesn’t even know if he should be afforded such luxury. Still, he does his best to soothe him, petting his soft black hair and telling him he’ll be ok. He wasn’t even sure he believed that, but he wasn’t going to say anything.

Mick didn’t remember anything of that car ride. He didn’t remember being pet or held by Nikki. He did remember a sort of warmth spreading all over him. He did remember a sort of safe feeling. He remembered not feeling worried about his situation for some reason, just as much as he remembered the pain he felt during that day. He just didn’t remember Nikki holding him. And he sure didn’t remember much about the next minutes; being carried into the hospital, a lot of yelling and screaming, puking right on Nikki, who could only try his hardest to calm him down. The most jarring of it all, which he definitely blocked out of his memory: he was crying the entire time. He’s never cried in his adult life, not once. Not when his kids were taken away from him, not when he went to jail for unpaid child support, not even when Vince got into his car accident and no one knew if he was alive or not. No, nothing got past the impenetrable Mick Mars. Yet, as Nikki stood, holding him in his arms, he was sobbing. The pain must have been pretty bad for him to do that. Of course, he wouldn’t remember any of that.

Nikki and Tommy, however, knew everything. They knew that their guitarist had appendicitis and needed surgery on his appendix immediately. Tommy paled as soon as he heard that and Nikki had to sit down. It was a necessary procedure and they were lucky they had caught it on time. Nikki could only blow out a nervous breath and Tommy needed air fast. Doc made sure they got the room immediately and Nikki rushed after him, still carrying the semi conscious man in his arms. Tommy stayed back, still pacing back and forth.

After depositing Mick onto the bed, Nikki was ushered out of the room and had no choice but to hang back out in the waiting room. Tommy was still there pacing. Nikki smiled softly and walked up to him.

“Why don’t you go out and have a smoke or something…take the edge off your nerves.” He suggested. Tommy paused. He looked hesitant. Nikki knew he didn’t want to leave, in case anything went down. He reached over and put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his place.

“Seriously, it’s ok. You can’t stay here and just pace, you’re making everyone else nervous.” He lightly joked. Tommy sighed and gave him a sad smile.

With a nod, he walked out of the room, reaching into his pocket as he did so. Nikki chuckled slightly and sat down on one of the hard plastic chairs. They really needed to get comfier chairs. He squirmed around, half trying to get comfortable, half trying to calm himself down. He was fine, they’d take care of him. He got why Tommy had to pace around. The suspense would kill anyone else. His foot tapped a million times per second.

He was never a smoker, thinking it a worse habit than the drugs he did, but it was moments like these where he wished he had picked it up. Anyone else would have just left. Vince was probably already back in California by now. Nikki himself was surprised he stayed. He probably would have been back in sunny California with a needle in his arm by now, as harsh as it was to think that way. Fear overtook him. Maybe that was why he was still here. For all his trash talk and evil ways, he cared so much about that man. He never thought he could do that, care.

Mick was so nice, so caring towards them all, even when he wanted nothing more than for them to all go away and leave him alone. He put up with so much, and they constantly took advantage of that kindness. It paid Nikki nothing to simply be there for him. The fact that if they had left Mick to his own devices, he wouldn’t have survived it, was a shock alone. That was the last thing the band needed right now. Nikki looked around the room. There weren’t much people here. Seemed like mornings were pretty chill until afternoons hit. That’s when the real drama started. A glance at the hall signals the return of Tommy, this time bringing Doc along. The two of them carried coffees in their hands and Tommy hands one out to Nikki. He takes a grateful sip from his cup. He’s looking expectantly at Doc, who simply shrugged.

“I just got back from the cafeteria…Tommy decided that would be a great place to smoke in the building full of sick people.” He griped. Tommy blushed slightly.

“I wasn’t thinking, alright, I got that! I just…I didn’t want to leave and miss anything.” He admitted, looking down.

Tommy could be real pathetic at times. Nikki could only smile at his downtrodden face. He looked like a kicked puppy, but Nikki knew he was only trying to get sympathy points from Doc. It worked too, their manager could only sigh and pat him on the shoulder.

“Next time…just go outside. We don’t need the hassle of trying to bail you out from the nurses. They’re pretty strict here too, it’s a really good hospital.” Doc replied, looking at Nikki while saying the last part. That was his way of consoling him. Reminding him that Mick was in good hands. Nikki can only nod and sigh. He sits back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.

“You know, if we had taken him seriously yesterday it probably wouldn’t have been as serious as it is now.” He commented. Tommy coughs. Doc looked away. Nikki stares at them, willing them to say something.

“Well it’s true! Hell, if we didn’t do something today he would have been…” he trailed off, not wanting to say the last part out loud. Tommy puts his head in his hands and Doc breathes out a heavy sigh.

“Listen, we got to him when we did and now they’re solving the problem. There’s no what ifs in this situation, we did exactly what we should have. We don’t have time to play the ‘we should have done this we should have done that’ game. All we can do is pray he gets better fast.” He shut down any other attempt at blaming themselves, before grabbing a newspaper from one of the tables and pretending to read it.

Tommy sits down beside Nikki and wraps a spindly arm around his shoulder.

“There’s no reason to blame yourself Sixx. We still got to him in time, which is better than not at all. He’s going to get better and we’ll all laugh about this in the near future.” Tommy tried to comfort him. Nikki could just shrug and nod.

“Better than not at all…yeah, I guess.”

It took another two hours for anything to be said to them. A nurse finally walks up to them, making Nikki jump to his feet and the resulting action forcing Doc to jolt awake. The nurse reassured them that everything was fine, and that the surgery went well. Mick was obviously going to be asleep for a while, so they would have to come back the next day to see him. As the nurse leaves, Nikki finds his anxiety dwindling to just small background noise. He looked towards Doc, who stares at him blankly.

“So…are you going back to California now?” He asked Nikki, who stares at him like he had three eyes on his face.

“Uhhh, no? I’m staying here.”

“And where are you going to stay? We checked out of the hotel like…three hours ago?”

Nikki paused. He hadn’t thought that far…and he had two whole hours to do so. Tommy stood beside them awkwardly. Tommy wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay either. But if he wanted to go, who was going to bring him back to California?

“I’ll stay in a motel close by if I have to, I just don’t want to leave him here by himself. He won’t know what’s going on and I want to be there so he has a familiar face.” Nikki begged.

He didn’t feel comfortable just letting his friend stay somewhere he was unfamiliar with by himself. If it had been him, Nikki would have wanted someone there with him. He’s sure it would have been Tommy, he never went anywhere without his terror twin. Doc could only sigh as he turned to Tommy.

“So what are we going to do with you?” He asked. Tommy shrugged.

“I could try to navigate the airport by myself?” He answered, his answer sounding more like a question with how unsure he was. Doc shook his head.

“I absolutely do not trust any of you to get on a plane by yourselves. Let me get Nikki situated in his stupid motel and then I’ll drive you to the airport and see you off on the plane. Then I’ll come back and take care of Nikki and Mick until they’re ready to come back to California. Does that sound good to everyone?”

Both Nikki and Tommy nodded at this and Doc stood up.

“Good, now let’s go look for some motels around us.”

It didn’t take them long to find the cheapest (but not the dingiest) motel close to the hospital. With Nikki in his room, unpacking for the week ahead, Tommy and Doc shuttled back off to the airport (not without Doc reminding them of how much he did for them and how they shouldn’t take him for granted…Nikki can’t remember everything seeing as though he tuned him out halfway through his speech). Alone, Nikki felt calmer. The atmosphere of the hospital was overwhelming, even though there was practically no one there. He wondered if Mick was comfortable. Was the bed nice enough for his back? Was he laying down flat, or nicely propped up like he always slept.

Then he wondered why he was thinking about the old man so much. He almost never thought about him like this on a daily basis. Was it normal to think about your bandmates? Then again, Nikki wasn’t really thinking about anyone but himself these days. And that only made him feel worse. Maybe he was just selfish for not thinking about them. All his friends, his family…his mom. No, he didn’t have to think about her. But, he never thought about his friends. Not even the guys he helped form the band that had made him a damn near millionaire. He could call them every once in a while…even if it was just to catch up. He never did that though, but then again…neither did they. They used to be close though. They used to call. They used to hang out. Hell, they used to live together.

He paused, throwing the shirt he’d just taken out of his suitcase back onto the bed. He was spiralling, he knew that. He was once again stuck in that old thinking pattern he had tried to drown out with alcohol and drugs. He had no dope on him and he wasn’t even sure where the nearest liquor store was. He couldn’t afford to spiral. He tried calming down his breathing. He took long measured breaths and tried to tune out the brain radio going on in his head.

No, he wasn’t evil for not catching up with his friends. No, he wasn’t evil for not noticing any signs of trouble with Mick. No, he wasn’t evil for not wanting anything to do with his toxic family. He was fine. Mick was fine. Everyone was fine. There was no reason to want to run back to the hospital and hold onto Mick like he could possibly break into a million pieces, because he wasn’t going to. He was fine. There’s no reason to even want to hear his voice, because Mick was asleep and Nikki wasn’t going to try to wake him up when he just got out of an invasive surgery.

Ok. There was something there. Something Nikki was trying to hide from himself. There was no reason he should’ve been feeling fond of that garbage gremlin. Mick was nasty, said weird things and did even weirder stuff. He was stubborn, almost always trying to influence Nikki to go his way instead of just sticking to the script. Sure, he wrote a lot a great riffs, and maybe it was a good thing that he didn’t always listen to Nikki. It was still infuriating at times. They didn’t always get along, and there was a reason they stopped sharing a hotel room since the year before. But…there was something, a weird pervasive feeling there.

All he could do was sleep about it. Maybe there was something there, Nikki was willing to pretend it didn’t exist. Even if he did acknowledge it, nothing was going to come from this. Mick wasn’t like that. He had a girlfriend who he really cared for. One that was probably wondering why he hadn’t come home yet.

The next morning, Nikki woke up extra early. Doc was waiting for him at his door, looking more tired than usual. Nikki gave him a sheepish smile and tried to apologize for the day before. Doc just waved him off.

“I would have had to stay behind either way. I’m not leaving any of you alone for more than ten minutes…that goes for means mr. regular too.”

It doesn’t take long for both Nikki and Doc to get through to Mick’s room. He’s already up and looking rather tired. Nikki’s the first to burst into the room, nearly scaring the hell out of his guitarist.

“Mars, man! How are ya?” Nikki exclaimed, rushing over to uncharacteristically give Mick a hug. Mick was so tired he let Nikki hug him, not even letting out his usual grumble about the overt affection. He just let himself be hugged, wrapping a weak arm around Nikki’s back.

“I’ve seen better days.” Was Mick’s usual sarcastic reply. He nodded at Doc who patted his shoulder lightly. Nikki sat at the edge of the bed, for some reason.

“Dude, we thought you were going to OW-“

Nikki’s interrupted by Doc’s elbow hitting him in the stomach.

“It’s good to see you’re alright Mick, you gave us quite the scare yesterday.” Doc in turn remarked, a much more polite version of Nikki’s crass statement.

“Yeah…I’m sorry about that. I kinda just thought I had food poisoning or something. I don’t even remember the ride here, think I just passed out.”

“Yeah, it was gnarly! You can’t imagine how relieved we are that you made it.” Nikki finally put his two cents in. Mick nodded.

“Tommy and Vince went back to California though, didn’t they?” He asked. Doc grimaced, but nodded.

“But Tommy was there with us when we brought you to the hospital! In fact, he was the one that found you.” Nikki countered. He didn’t want it to seem like they were all heartless. Even still, Vince probably didn’t even know what happened…and most likely wouldn’t care. Nikki tried not to think about that. They couldn’t possibly care that little about each other.

“Yeah…I think I remember that. How’d he get a key to my room either way?”

“We were running late so I gave Tommy a spare key to wake you up…thinking back, I should have known something was wrong. You’re never late.”

Mick shrugged and the room falls silent. They didn’t need to unpack all of that right at that moment. Mick found himself nuzzling up closer to Nikki. He didn’t know why, but he needed the comfort. Of course, when this was over and he went back home, he’ll pretend he never did this. He’ll pretend this never happened, him getting so close to Nikki. He’ll pretend he was strong and didn’t need the comfort. That things like this just happen and he took it in stride. No one needed to know how weak he was being. Nikki didn’t care, of course. He just stroked his hair and let him get as close as possible. He wasn’t even scared to get that close to him, no longer feeling intimidated by the older man. It wasn’t like how it was back in ‘83 anymore. They’re both content to pretend they aren’t doing what they are. Mick wasn’t struggling to stay awake because he was being lulled back to sleep by Nikki’s soft, calming touch. And Nikki sure wasn’t the happiest he’d ever been having full access to Mick without the biting and scratching and screaming. None of them acknowledged it, so it wasn’t happening. Simple as that.

i have more in the can but that’s like a fully fledged fic that I still haven’t worked out yet. but either way, this is what i have take it or leave it. sure, it might seem disjointed and a bit incomprehensible but…oh well.

i was serious though, it happened to my friend ******

[regal-rosebuds]

Hello again. This is a past anonymous. I'm sorry for constantly bothering you here (if that's the case). I mean, since I'm new here, I ask quite a lot of questions, even banal ones. Of course, I try to figure everything out with the help of independent searches, but it doesn't always work out so well, alas. So, I just wanted to know. You have some special blogs (you know the same regressors, maybe dreamers, educators) and special people with whom you have already established close contact in this… Is it a community, if that's what you can call it? I understand that this can be quite personal information, so if it's too much, then you don't have to answer. It's just that because I'm new and I keep coming across different places, posts, blogs, even in my searches, but I don't really know how to do it… to start… Are there acquaintances here? I'm sorry if it sounded crumpled, I honestly don't know how to express my thought more clearly and clearly.

It can also send a double message, I'm sorry if that happens.

ꔫ No worries!! No need to apologize, my blog is here to answer questions like these! Don’t feel like a bother when you’re just trying to learn.

ꔫ Maybe you want to use an emote signifier so I’ll know it’s you each time!

ꔫ But I digress.

ꔫ Many of my friends in agere or carers are people who I already knew elsewhere but taught about regression. I have met a good few friends from agere discord servers though!

ꔫ I used to be really active in the regression discord community, but it got a bit stressful with my other life factors.

ꔫ As far as Tumblr goes, I don’t have many, if any, close friends on here! Much of my posting is replying to randoms. I do have a few mutuals, but I don’t often go out of my way to become mutuals with others or talk very often with them simply because I’m not too educated on how that part of Tumblr culture works!

ꔫ TL;DR I’m pretty much flying as solo as you are!

ꔫ People like you with kind messages or likes or reblogs are pretty much the only way I know that my posts are coherent!

ꔫ For me, it was better to create an agere lifestyle off of social media with the help of close friends. That way you have an anchor and kind of know what content you’re interested in/looking for.

ꔫ When I’m not posting here, I’m just scrolling through tags or being taken care of by my Knights while I’m regressed.

ꔫ It’s best not to over complicate it in my opinion!

ꔫ P.S. it is 5 am, so sorry if some of my sentences don’t make complete sense!

[simslegacy5083]

Today's (7/15/2024) Episode: The Verdict

After another half hour with no news on Noemi, Luigi’s worry and prayers turned into simmering anger at the uncommunicative hospital staff.

He marched up to the reception clerk. “This is unacceptable! You whisked my fiancé away hours ago, and I’ve received ZERO updates on how she’s doing. You keep saying someone will tell me soon, and no one ever comes!” He refused to move from the desk until he watched the clerk page the doctor. 

It was all Luigi could do to keep from lashing out at everything and everyone as he stalked angrily back to “his” corner of the waiting room.

Just before he stomped up to the desk a fourth time, a sim in a white lab coat called his name and led him to a small consultation room.

Dr. Hinds told him that Noemi had suffered a serious post-partum hemorrhage. It appeared that a piece of placenta that had remained stuck to her uterine wall following Skye’s birth had been dislodged somehow by the massage she’d received. 

His team had been able to remove the retained placenta surgically and stop the bleeding, but Noemi had lost a lot of blood and needed more than one transfusion. However, Dr. Hinds was happy to report that she was expected to make a full recovery and they could bring Luigi to see her now.

The wave of tension leaving Luigi’s body when he heard Noemi was going to be OK left him feeling wrung out and wobbly as jello.

He managed to stand and shake the doctor's hand, expressing mostly coherent thanks for saving his fiancée’s life.

While he waited for someone to come escort him Luigi called his family to tell them the good news, eagerly accepting their offer to stay on in Sulani until Noemi was recovered. He hadn’t even begun to consider how he was going to manage caring for Skye and continuing to work.

When he finally walked into her recovery room, Luigi found Noemi not only alive, but awake and staring back at him. She looked weak and groggy, but her gentle smile when she saw him was possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Well, hello stranger. This isn’t the date night I … mmmph!” her greeting was cut off by her overjoyed fiancée drowning her in kisses.

“Ok, ok” she laughed, pushing his head gently back to where they could talk more normally. “Did the doctor tell you much? Its all a bit fuzzy to me.”

Luigi filled her in as best he could. Truth be told he hadn’t caught all the details either, having been alternately too angry, scared, and relieved to pay full attention. The main thing was that Dr. Hinds had said she should make a full recovery. As far as he was concerned that was all that mattered.

After that they chatted about Skye’s upcoming birthday and Luigi’s families plan to stay and help care for him, until Noemi’s eyelids started to droop.

Rising, Luigi gave his girl a kiss and tucked her in, promising “I’ll be back first thing in the morning”. As he left, he offered a silent thank you to The Watcher. He couldn’t know for sure if they’d intervened, but if they’d had a hand in Noemi’s recovery, he wanted them to know he appreciated it.

His little family was whole once more, and he intended to cherish them with all his heart.

For the record, The Watcher did not intervene. I also have no idea what I did (if anything), gameplay wise, to cause this. I’m guessing the massage but I’m honestly not sure.

I am so glad it all worked out the way it did!

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[away-ward]

Original ask here.

I want to preface this by clarifying that I understand why people don’t like Will. I didn’t like Will the first time I read through the series. In preparing this, I’ve struggled with how to explain my feelings about him, because while I do understand where people are coming from, I can’t help but appreciate his story arc and character overall, especially when compared to the three other Horsemen. I’m not entirely sure how to bring all my thoughts together to coherently present to you why I don’t hate that he got the girl in the end.

Before we start, please know that I am not attempting to change your mind. This isn’t a persuasive essay. I’m just explaining my thoughts on Will’s story arc and characterization, and you are free to agree or disagree as you please.

Please note that below the cut is about 7k on why I like Will Grayson. If reading that would upset you, please feel free to skip. I’ll catch you on the next post. No worries.

If, however, you are down to inspect this little nut case from my overly enthusiastic perspective, hit the button. Now, on to the insanity.

The Anon asked me to focus on Will’s growth, but the problem with that is that I don’t think Will has a ton of growth within the series. At least not a straight, upward linear path. The order of the series, the overlapping timelines, can make it difficult to track his trajectory, but if we start from Will’s earliest point in the storyline, which would be in Nightfall, and follow it all the way through to the end, Will’s character declines, almost consistently. With each installment, he almost always becomes a worse person.

I know. Probably not the explanation you were expecting from a Will defender. Hold on, I’ll get there.

When looking at Will’s story overall, I think there’s one key characterization that readers should remember. And that’s: Will lies. I mean, all the boys lie, but Will lies to the reader, and he’s good at it. I think of all the other Horsemen, Kai might come close to having this skill to a degree. Still, I don’t think he’s as good at it as Will is. Will wears a mask that fools just about everyone he encounters, and it was this interpretation that had me reconsidering my original impression of him.

I didn’t love Will for most of the series. In fact, I hated him so much I nearly didn’t make it to Nightfall because what was the point. Will was mean and rude, and the constantly drunk thing was old. I didn’t care about him at all.

But then I met high school Will. I was mystified, and in wonderment about this charming boy who loved this one girl with his whole heart. He was so sincere toward Emory. He was difficult to swallow and a bit obtuse at times. Yet, my heart bled for them and the reasons they couldn’t be together; how much it hurt him to lose her and how he didn’t understand.

It was impossible to reconcile Will from high school to Will in the present. They were not the same person. When I finally gathered the bits of my shattered heart off the floor, I went back through the series and read just Will’s scenes to try and make some sense of what happened. I first concluded that PD didn’t know what they were doing, because they unintentionally wrote two different characters. Will in Corrupt, Hideaway, and Kill Switch was not the same character in Nightfall. End of story. I brushed my hands off, ready to let it go.

However, I found that didn’t sit right with me. There had to be a reason. And this may be where my projections and head canons for Will start to take over. Where I see what I want to see and have no problem with that because at the end of the day, I just want to enjoy myself and my ship.

When I read through the scenes again, with the understanding that Will was lying in most of the scenes he’s in, I began to see three different versions of the character, each with their own motives and priorities. However, I don’t see all versions as authentic – the “real” Will. Again, he’s lying or wearing a mask to cover up his deepest thoughts and feelings.

In the original Will post, I did a fair job summarizing Will’s high school life. We know he’s wealthy; the grandson of a senator, the youngest son of one of the wealthiest families in the country; he was raised in an affluent area, surrounded by people just like him. It seems that his older brothers are probably a good number of years older than him, and so the family member closest in age would have been his younger cousins, Misha and Annie.

He says that he was his parent’s good boy, and that his mother always sought his company, but Damon says he caused them trouble. This leads me to believe that Will’s parents spoiled him. He is their baby, after all. At the same time, I think he was probably generous with them as well. Will says that he had a Doris Day marathon when his mom asked, and he also came back to Thunder Bay for her when all he wanted was to stay away, so it seems that Will went out of his way to please her.

Damon says that Will’s house was his favorite. I’ve head-canoned that this is because the Grayson’s are genuinely a loving, happy family, and this is what allows Will to make it to high school with the sort of levity he has.

Will likes a good time, and he likes being mischievous. In high school, he finds friends who have similar tastes, and then there’s no limit. The Horsemen are privileged enough to avoid punishment no matter what they do. Will has everything he feels that he needs, except for one thing. But as I said before, he’s also delusional enough to think it’s only a matter of time before Emory gives into him.

I liked this side of Will. See, this Will, while obnoxious at times, is kind. He’s not always nice, but in general he’s kind. In Hideaway, when Damon knocks Banks off her bike, Will stops along with Kai and calls Damon an asshole for it. In Kill Switch, when Winter gets pushed into the boy’s locker room, and the rest of the boys are taking advantage of her blindness, Will approaches to make sure she’s okay.

Will said it himself. He likes being nice. Being mean is not his default, and in fact, it takes a lot of pushing to get him there. We don’t know how long Martin had been pulling him over before Will started pranking him. And that’s where he began – small, and what he thought were funny, harmless pranks.

After Emory leaves him, he tries to ignore her, but he can’t. He’s still obsessed. He still watches her, and eventually he’s able to piece the puzzle together. I’m uncertain how long it took him to figure it out, but it doesn’t seem like it mattered. Emory had made her feelings clear, and he wasn’t going to continue throwing the dignity he had left out the window. He graduates from high school and all his friends go to different colleges. Much like Damon, Will isn’t good alone, and without his support system he starts to spiral out of control.

When people complain about Will, I often wonder if they realize Will hated himself too. No one’s saying anything he wouldn’t have agreed with, if he were being honest.

Getting into the past scenes in Corrupt, he seems the same as before. He’s loud, flashy, eager to party. He’s quick to tease, he’s not really being mean. Unlike Damon, he doesn’t mind that Michael is bringing Rika along. Like Kai, he’s seen this coming for a while, and it’s going to begrudge Michael his chance.

The Gazebo scene is a break from his usual demeanor. Will’s sudden shift is such a shock, that a lot of us found it to be the most compelling scene in the whole novel. Of course, right after that, he’s back to being loud. He deems Rika their Monster, plays air guitar, and gives her a lap dance. And by the end of the night, he’s black out drunk. So drunk that he doesn’t even know Damon has put him in the back seat of Michael’s car and is plotting with Trevor.

I think, at this point, it’s impossible to ignore the effect that seeing the completed gazebo had on him. Will was going to get drunk regardless, but I wonder if he would have gotten that drunk. From what we can tell, his drinking has increased over time in both frequency and amount. However, this was a special occasion – a reunion with his friends, and I think he planned to spend the night getting drunk with them, not before them. But then Michael was distracted with Rika, Damon had his own things going on, and now… the gazebo.

The following morning he’s arrested. As he sits in that room, aware the cop he assaulted is watching him, aware that it’s his fault the video exists and that he took his mask off, he’s as equally unaware that Emory has come to save him.

I image Will feels the burden for everything he’s done. I bet it stings, as he sits in that chair, knowing whenever the subject of Emory Scott comes up, he loses all sense of control. He can't help it. Meanwhile, she probably doesn’t even think about him anymore, having a great life at Berkley.

He doesn’t know why, but his family convinces him it’s better to plead guilty so that his sentence is lowered. Two and a half years of his life gone. His 21st birthday is spent in prison. Kai’s and Damon’s, too. Kai gets his degree, but he feels shame in it. Damon’s in solitary, his sentence longer. While he has nothing to do with Damon’s video, I think he still takes the blame for leading his friends to Martin.

Michael comes up with the plan for revenge as a way to keep them together. He needed a way to keep them from losing themselves, and keep that fire burning inside them until they're free to ride again.

And this is the end of the first version of Will. And in my opinion, this is the most authentic version of Will. This is who he is when he’s not trying to fool anyone. He cares deeply about his friends, his family, and Emory. He wants her to care about him, too, but he doesn’t want to force her to love him.

I’m not going to say he didn’t deserve what he got. As it was stated in Nightfall, Emory didn’t owe him her heart just because he wanted it. It wouldn’t have mattered if he did everything right, and she still didn’t want him. I think readers might be more sympathetic towards him if he had done things the “right” way. However, that he didn’t do things the right way doesn't change the fact that his motives for Emory were out of sincerity, and that’s why I think this is the most authentic version.

 Will is different when he comes out from prison. He’s impatient, more careless, and less trusting. When he teases, there’s a bitter edge to it. He genuinely wants to scare and hurt Rika. He’s angry.

Weird head-canon here, but I think Kai was the one who came up with the idea for the dagger and the note, Damon was the one who had the idea to get Christiane out of the way by sending her to rehab, and Will was the one who burned the Fane house down, though I may be forgetting if that was established. Correct me if I’m wrong. I just feel the fire and impulsivity of it goes along with Will’s anger. I also think it’s interesting that Will later moves into that same house with Emory after they pay to have it rebuilt.

Anyway, after the dust settles and Rika’s proven innocent, Will is shown to be able to quickly shift the way he thinks about her. He’s the first one to apologize, and he asks her if she’d like a drink in a “gentle voice.” When Michael tries to put Rika in her place, Will sits quietly, though she expects him to laugh. He's not finding this funny right now.

Michael starts the party. Will flies Alex down, but doesn’t seem to be paying a large amount of attention to her, since she complains that he left her to the high school guys. It seems his idea is the more, the merrier, and he’s not going out of his way for her. Again, it seems he’s just being nice and including as many people as possible because that’s what he’s known for. The next time he’s mentioned is the next morning when he’s dealing with a hangover.

He’s definitely taking this time to blow off some steam. Remember, he thought he was going to be getting his revenge on Rika for her betrayal. However, he was forced to talk about why he went to prison, forced to discuss Emory, and betrayed by Damon. Not the night he planned.

After this, Will is the most determined to get revenge on Trevor and Damon. He insists that it must happen soon, and that everyone needs to be on board, including Rika. Will’s sense of right and wrong is largely based on loyalty, so to him, Rika needs to get hers too for everything to be made right.

I thought it was interesting that Will is seen driving frequently, which to me tells me he wasn’t drinking regularly at this time. I doubt Kai or Michael would allow him to drive, especially with Rika in the car, if he were constantly drunk or hungover.

We all know what happened on the Pithom, and how Damon attempting to kill him would have affected him, so I think we can skip to what’s going on with him in Hideaway.

Hideaway is a weird period for Will. Michael and Rika are engaged, and Kai has secluded himself across town in the White Hall district and his focus is on finding Damon. He lives at Delcour and works at Graymor Cristane, but he’s left out of a lot of their conversations. Kai notes that he’s been “misbehaving” since Damon left, but it’s unclear what that means exactly. I understand that he’s been drinking more and getting into harder drugs, but what trouble has he caused? Regardless, it’s clear that Michael and Kai have been trying to manage him, so to speak. But their way of managing him causes more friction. It’s probably because Michael and Kai have much a much stricter approach to his habits. While their solution to the problem is to find Damon to give Will his revenge, I wonder if they’d actually worked with him on his addictions and communicated, if Will would have been able to recover sooner.

But they’re men who don’t want to appear weak by communicating or showing any kind of vulnerability. What can you do?

I think when Will is left alone, his thoughts circle back to Emory eventually, and this contributes to the cycle of his addictions. He’ll do anything to make the pain stop. Will wants to be comforted. He needs it, too, after everything he’s just gone through. However, with Michael and Kai distracted, Will only has one other person to turn to, and it just so happens that Alex also lives at Delcour, making it even easier for him to have access to her. I’ve spoken about how his relationship with her changed during the time jump between Corrupt and Hideaway, and I think this might have had something to do with it.

When Will speaks, though, he’s back to being rude and cutting, especially with Banks. There was one scene I found particularly interesting, and that’s when he’s trying to mock her virginity. Banks snaps back at him, and it seemingly shuts him up.

On the surface, this appears to prove that Banks is tough and witty, and that Will can’t beat her with sheer cockiness. But like I said before, being mean isn’t his default. He doesn’t like it, and I don’t think it comes naturally to him. At the same time, the fandom loves to compare Banks and Emory for their similarities. Dark hair, not traditionally girly, sarcastic, tough, having gone through difficult things at a young age which left them with a critical view of the world? Banks response to him much the same way Emory would, and unlike the girls he usually finds himself surrounded by.

Is it possible that Will was able to pick up on these similarities, too?

I also wanted to touch on the scene where Banks reveals what she knows to Michael and Will. You can tell me if I’m off my rocker or not, because this may be a very different view of the situation, but I don’t want to ignore the possible meaning.

Banks tells Michael that Will can’t go five minutes without reaching for a bottle, and that he’s being hounded by Martin again. This is supposed to tell us how much information Banks has; she knows things even Michael doesn’t know, and they’re happening right under his nose.

She calls Martin a “child-abuser” but as we know, Martin has abused his power in other ways. He was going to rape a sixteen-year-old before Will, Kai, and Damon stopped him. It’s not clear if she knows about Emory’s history yet.

Will defends himself with Michael, but then the subject is dropped. No more thought into why Will is acting this way. This is odd behavior for Will, because we know that Will doesn’t do things alone, so why is he trying to handle Martin without Michael or Kai?

Banks is looking at everyone closely, but this information is only surface level. It's what you’d get by watching people and tracking patterns. It seems more likely to me that she’s installed cameras to keep track of multiple locations and reviews the footage, versus her staking out each of the Horsemen in rotation. I think she’s gathered information, but doesn’t know quite know what it all means. She’s also strategic in a way, but in this case, only when it relates to Michael and Kai. Damon’s likely told her certain things about Will that aren’t entirely true, like when he told Rika Will is too stupid to add two plus two. That’s an exaggeration, of course, but the implication is that Will is stupid. It’s possible Banks is underestimating him.

It’s supposed to appear that Will can’t fool Banks, but he has. She doesn’t think deeply about what’s going on with him beyond the surface, trying to determine what’s causing him to act out and how it could potentially affect his future behavior, which is a variable she should want to know. And even later, in the following years when Will is spiraling even farther, and he disappears, Banks doesn’t seem to have any extraordinary insight into why.

So, either Banks is not as insightful as she seems, and is just good at gathering information, which doesn’t feel entirely true, though I am willing to consider this aspect of her personality has been exaggerated. To me, it’s more likely that Will is very good at keeping his true thoughts and feelings behind a mask that even Banks can’t see around.

Anyway, again, I may be looking at this from a different angle, and I hope I'm not pissing-off Banks’ fans, but I thought it was interesting. Remember, I’m not implying that she isn’t smart. Only that Will might not be as dumb as we think he is. Regardless, I personally would have preferred if in Kill Switch she continued pushing him and could see the cracks in his lies that the others were missing.

In the last half of Hideaway, Will comes around as Kai’s feelings for her become more evident. This is like what happened with Rika, though he is a bit slower this time around. He has less to feel guilty about and less of a personal connection with Banks, so I don’t think much of it. He still tries to be kind to her in some ways, and it makes me think that the times he was being mean was because he was covering up other feelings. I’ll point out again that Banks has a personal connection to Damon and could possibly remind him of Emory in certain ways; Banks also calls him out for hiding things, which might give him a moment to fear she’s seeing too much. He has reasons to be weary around her, but even then, when she asks him for help, he’s right there dog-nabbing with her.

And I can’t help but think that this is because, at his truest, best self, he is a kind person who wants the people he cares about to be happy. Despite everything, he’s allowed Banks to enter this circle.

This also got me thinking that everyone sees Will as the happy one. He’s jubilant, for sure, but I don’t think he’s truly happy. So it’s interesting to me that he would still care and go out of his way to make sure his friends get their happy endings, to make sure they have what they want and need, that they see “justice” served for them, but he doesn’t try to go for it himself.

Before getting into Kill Switch, I want to address another side thought, because it might become relevant later, and I’m not sure where it fits best.

I’ve noticed this trend in the Anon’s asks that people are mad at Will for a variety of reasons, but one that gets mentioned that I just can’t wrap my head around is that he never reached out to Emory in the time between his release and Blackchurch. This one is a difficult topic for me to respond to because I feel that Will not reaching out to her, for whatever reason, was the right decision for both he and Emory.

For three years in high school, Emory told him no and pushed him away. She said yes for one night, but then pushed him away again. From there, all he knew was that there was a secret between her and Damon, but he figured out about the abuse on his own. He continued watching her and thinking about her; even as he tried to ignore her, he couldn’t.

Looking at it from Will’s point of view, Will knew he loved Emory. He tried being honest and open with her. He revealed his heart to her, thought he’d made it clear that he was willing to do anything for her, but some reason she wasn’t going to trust him. Even when she had left Martin and was out of his control, she still didn’t clarify anything with Will. I don’t know what other conclusion Will was supposed to draw other then she didn’t want his help, and that she didn’t love him.

At the point that Will’s been released from prison, Emory is an adult and she’s out of immediate danger. If she cared, if she was angry, if she had any thoughts for Will at all, she knew where to find him. He had been at the same address for two years. In his mind, it must have seemed like Emory was communicating loud-and-clear: she wanted nothing to do with him. And he couldn’t keep forcing himself into her life; the constant rejection hurt too much. He’d take the loss and pretend like it wasn’t killing him.

Overall, he wasn’t in the state of mind to have a productive conversation with her, and they both would have come away more hurt.

This is not to say that I think Will was aware he was respecting Emory’s wishes, or that that’s what he was intending to do. I think Will was trying to ignore her because he was in pain, because his pain had caused problems for his friends, and because thinking of her caused more pain. But he was indirectly respecting the signs Emory had given him. At no point since homecoming night had Emory given him a green light to interact with her, and he kept his distance. I can’t hate him for that.

Disclaimer before anyone gets mad: Expecting Emory to make those kinds of decisions is expecting way more than he should. I agree with the decisions Emory made. At seventeen, Will had too much hubris, as a lot of young adults do, especially those who come from privileged backgrounds. It takes some experience and humility to look back and identify where you were wrong, and even then, you need to be clear-headed enough to accept it without being angry. Getting out of prison, Will had neither experience, humility, nor a clear head.

And I bring this up now because one, I think this is one of the small ways that Will does show some growth, and two, it’s related to the level of his happiness.

Which, going into Kill Switch, is at an all-time low.

Damon is back. We know that he’s reached out to taunt Will. I think this has caused his character to decline the farthest it’s been at this point. You see, he appears to be nice to Winter, but the truth is he has no real interest in her. Winter is the way to get to Damon because Will knows she is Damon’s ultimate target. He knows Winter is different, and that’s the key Will intends to use to get his revenge. Planning this on his own might be the most devious thing he's done.

His dynamic with Winter is a bit different from what it was with Banks. Winter’s already in with their group because she’s been around for a few years, and they’re somewhat familiar with her. She’s also a “friend” of Rika’s, and in fact it’s Rika’s idea to send Will into to help Winter train. I wondered if Rika had asked both Kai and Will to help, and Will was the one who accepted because of Damon. It could have also been that Kai was just busier and Will had more free time, but whatever.  

While he’s somewhat kind in his direct dealings with Winter, he’s also mean to her. The way he speaks about her to goad Damon outside the pool house, regardless of if he believes his words or not, proves he has ulterior motives. Also, the way he forcibly kisses her when she’s leaving Michael and Rika’s home as a desperate move to hurt Damon, shows a lack of consideration and respect for Winter. It’s worth noting that he goes this far after Damon brought up Emory in the pool house, but it’s up to you whether you think it’s connected.

Again, I can’t help but think this lashing out is… a mask. He hides his true thoughts and feelings under a mask, sometimes of cruelty, which he learned from watching his friends, and sometimes of happiness, the kind he used to have when things were better. And I think to face Damon, he felt he had to be cruel. What he found was that even his false cruelty was nothing against Damon’s genuine viciousness. He couldn’t compete, and if he were being honest, he didn’t want to.

We see a shift in the way Will begins to treat Winter in the last half of the story, when things are coming together for the group. It seems that at the first chance he gets to start being kind, he goes back to his default.

Because he never wanted to be mean in the first place.

This ends the second version of Will. I like to think that this is the least authentic version of him; or at least the one farthest away from who he’d like to be, and that he’s behaving in a way that doesn’t come naturally to him. I believe he’s acting this way because he’s in pain, not because this is who he is in his heart.

Looking at the life Will has experienced for the past few years, it’s interesting to me that at this point, Will seems to be in the best situation he’s been in for a while. With Damon back, he has the strength and willingness to stop using drugs. To me, this was a sign that he was starting to heal, and if he continued going in this direction, things would have only improved. Will was tired of himself, tired of dragging his friends down, and tired of feeling dead to the world, and this was the first step in the right direction.

I also think this is the first time he had women in his life who were friends and not nameless girls he could bed and forget, and this helps him to start to develop actual ideas of what it means to truly love someone. As he witnesses the things his friends are willing to do for their women, I can’t help but wonder if he’s started to reflect on the way he handled Emory. Again, we have no way of knowing, but it wouldn’t make sense if it didn’t come up sometimes. He also has Alex, who has her own heart break and way of masking her pain, but genuinely seems happy for his company despite all the problems he has. Which, unfortunately, Emory never got the chance to do, though we know she would have.

He’s getting the help he needs; business is moving forward. This is probably the time he finds Coldfield, buys it, and designs it himself. Coldfield is also where he parks the bus from homecoming night, which he somehow managed to secure, showing he’s still thinking about Emory in some capacity.

Who knows, maybe once he was fully sober and free of his vices, he would have reached out to Emory and tried to reconnect. Maybe once he felt like he had something to offer her, or a way to fight for her, or that he could stand a chance. Maybe, for the first time in years, Will is hopeful for the future.

He never got that far, though, because it was at this time that he was made aware of the document Emory signed.

Will says he went to Blackchurch for a few different reasons, but mainly because he knew he’d need the extra help getting sober. It couldn’t be just his friends; they were too generous with him. More than that, he wanted to be done with all of it, the drugs, the alcohol, and the women.

He also wanted to be able to bring something more to the table. This makes sense, in a way. Michael and Rika were brought their college degrees and inheritances, with a clear future already set. Kai and Banks, as well, had Sensou and the empire she inherited from Gabriel. With or without an inheritance, Damon was a force to be reckoned with. They were also starting families and planning their futures, and what did Will have? He knew Misha wouldn’t be interested, and his family was becoming more saddened with his lack of direction, though they'd never cut him off. He had no drive and nothing to be better for.

However, without the drugs and alcohol to numb his pain, Will is an open wound. Personality wise, he’s stripped bare, with nothing left to cover up the parts of him that are bleeding. Being in a nearly abandoned forest with no connection to the outside world might have served the purpose of helping him to sooth his anger. That being said, Will still isn’t dealing with the source of his pain. Locked on that island, he has no reason to; it’s not like Emory can just drop in out of the blue, right?

Yeah…

And again, there’s nothing to prove this, but I wouldn’t put it past Aydin to identify Will right away and decided to “help” him break down those walls he’s built up to keep his pain from ravaging him, and then wait for the perfect time to bring in the source of that pain just to see what happens. Aydin knows Emory is salt on Will’s wounds. Seeing her burns him like nothing else, and he has no way of covering it up. He’s given up those tools and hasn’t developed any coping skills. All he has is his cruelty to keep from falling apart. But again, it's false cruelty meant to hide what he is truly feeling.

As mean as Will is with his words, the actions he takes show that he still cares deeply, despite what he believes Emory thinks of him. It’s because, even after all this time, that he still cares about her that makes him so angry. But I think his anger is more directed at himself than at her, though it’s her he lashes out at.

It's interesting, though, that before Emory showed up, he’d already garnered the friendship of Micah and Rory through act so kindness. I’m reminded that being kind is what comes naturally to him. He just doesn’t want Emory to see it. He's protecting that part of himself from her. I think he believes if she sees it, she'll see how pathetic he is because of how much he still loves her, and that would slice him open even more.

In Nightfall, Will ponders over the reality of him pursuing Emory for revenge, and there’s an edge of doubt to his thoughts. This indicated to me that there originally was a part of him that intended to get sober just so he could seek her out, but that once he was in Blackchurch, he started to reach some clarity. Still, he's not prepared for her to show up, and so he is incredibly defensive with her. He doesn’t go out of his way to protect her, but he doesn’t want to see her hurt at someone else’s hands.

He tells Aydin he wants her gone, and Aydin accurately surmises that what Will wants is for her to be safe.

When Aydin spikes her soup and Emory tells the story of the day she got drunk at school, Will wonders if he saw her that day. And when she tries to drink again later, he prevents her because he knows what it’s like to lose himself, and he won’t let her do that.

The way that Will treats Emory when they get off the train feels like he’s starting to revert to his old self, but not the Will that he was before Blackchurch. The person he was before he went to prison. Though he is slightly different.

In high school, Will told Emory he would hurt anybody for her. I don’t think Will included himself when he said that. In fact, the actions he took when he was hurt by Emory, and the blame he placed on her for his pain, prove he wasn’t willing to hurt for her.

However, this Will is. He burns down the Cove because it’s time to move forward. The Cove was dead, and the Horsemen were always planning on tearing it down. They were just waiting on Will, who was still hung on up it because it was his last good memory of Emory.  

He also tells Emory he loves her, but he’ll let her go.

This is a Will who understands that when he says he’ll do anything for her, that has to include things that might hurt him. And it’s this willingness to let go that tells Emory he’s a safe place to land. He’s not going to try and trap her or control her or leave her when he's done, like she feared he would before. He left the choice with her in the fullest sense, and that’s what she wanted.

Will is able to show he loves her in the way that matters to her, not to himself, which is the standard he set in high school. This is his most significant change, though it's very small.

Like I said, I don’t think Will experienced a ton of “growth” throughout the story. I think Will in high school was the best of him, and from the point that we meet him in Corrupt to the present scenes in Nightfall, his character experienced a sharp decline in quality, but I also don’t think that everything we see from him is “true.” I think he’s lying to protect himself, and people who are in pain do awful things.

Returning from Blackchurch with a clear head of what he needs to do is when he starts turning around. I believe that that Will could eventually become someone that his high school-self could not only be proud of but impressed by. I also believe this version of Will is going to fair surpass who he would have been if prison had never happened.

The problem, all of that would happen after the book ends. At the point where the series ends, Will still has a lot of work to do, and it’s not going to be easy. But I see a return of his natural patience and inclination to be kind helping him greatly.

As an example, when Emory was talking of buying her old house, he thought it was a bad idea because of all the memories it held. Emory explains her reasons, and he listens, he nods, and simply agrees. He doesn’t continue to push for his way, like he did in high school. He understands that Emory knows what she wants and what’s best for her. He’s capable of change, and we know he’ll always want to be better for Emory.

This is what I see when I read his story. I don’t think his story is as sad as Emory’s by any means. Will caused a lot of his own problems, he moped and wallowed, and he made several bad decisions. Despite the fact that cruelty isn’t his default, he is still very capable of being as cruel as any of the guys, and he displays that in a variety of ways. I try to reason on, not excuse his behavior. But seeing him this way is what helps me to think that he and Emory are going to have a wonderful life together, that Emory is going to be happy with him, which of course, is my goal.

It would have been nice if Will had done all that work before reuniting with Emory. Maybe there is an alternate universe where he never gets that document Emory signed, gets sober, quits his vices, gets some therapy and heals before he goes to see her in San Francisco, just to apologize. They can take off from there on some sweet, second chance rom-com. Who knows.

Point is, he didn’t do the work before Emory was thrust back into his life, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t ever do the work. People don’t think that Will deserves Emory, which is funny to me because they say it as if Will thinks he deserves Emory. I think more than anyone, Will is aware he’s married so far out of his league, and he can only hope that she continues to think he’s worth it for some reason.

Now, I know this might not have meant anything to you. If you hate Will, you hate Will and that’s fine. But I think if we’re going to believe that Michael, Kai, and Damon have done enough to be “redeemed” according to PD, then Will would have done those things too if there’d been time. Although, I don’t want to see what those things would have been; I prefer my own version, thank you.

I’ll take this moment to answer some of the complaints I get regarding Will’s behavior and why they don’t bother me as much as they seem to bother others.

Will and Alex sleeping together; Will sleeping around in general.

I don’t care what type of relationship Will had with Alex because neither of them were in a committed relationship. They didn’t have anyone to answer to. They were two adults engaging in a relationship with dynamics they both agreed on. Will didn’t owe Emory celibacy, just as Emory didn’t owe Will anything. On that note, other than Alex, we don’t know if Will’s sexual habits changed greatly from when he was in high school. In Corrupt, Michael says that he buried himself in women the first few weeks he was out, but then it’s not really commented on again.

He also wasn’t forbidden from falling in love with someone new, either.

Now, I don’t believe Will ever developed romantic feelings for anyone, Alex included. I also don’t believe Alex had any romantic notions towards Will. I think they loved each other, but not that way. As I mentioned, Will used sex to comfort and soothe himself, the same way Damon used sex to control.

The truth is, Emory Scott has owned Will’s heart and mind since she was thirteen years old, and there was nothing neither of them could do about it. Will had to drink and drug himself into oblivion just to stop thinking about her. He eventually got to a point where he didn’t want to do that any longer. Not even Alex’s charm was enough to make him stay.

He used Alex to make Emory jealous.

Yeah.

And in the past scenes when she didn’t do what he wanted, he told her she could be replaced easily, even though he didn’t want to do that. Honestly, that hurts me more than the Alex thing. It’s so mean.

But look at him! In the nearly ten years they’d been separated he has one thing that would get a rise out of Emory. And that thing is not that he’s had a lot of sex. It’s that he fulfilled the fantasies he developed for Emroy with someone else.

It shouldn’t be the burn that he thinks it is. He’s basically telling on himself. Emory gets jealous, but I want to be like, babe, he still has all the same fantasies from high school… he’s still thinking of you. This man is obsessed and has not stopped thinking about you for ten years. Take the win.

It’s pathetic that he uses the idea of another woman to make her angry, but it’s also the only thing he’s got. It only works because Emory loves him.

He’s being mean, but it’s out of desperation, and that’s just sad.

He’s a horrible person.

You could count the redeeming characters in this series on one hand. I don’t know what to say. That’s the series.

But here’s some reasons I like him:

He didn’t deny that he was the one that needed to change, and took steps to make those changes before Emory was back in his life. He wasn’t successful, but he started.

He returned to college when he had every reason not to, even though he hated school and was embarrassed to be so much older than most of the other students.

He also was the only one who adopted a dog from Banks, and I’m going to give him extra points for that.

He seems to be a decent father who loves the mother of his children.

I can’t remember any of the other complaints at this moment, I could go look, but I’m sure someone will remind me soon enough.

If you made it this far, you deserve a treat. Let me know if you decide to treat yourself. I’d give you one, but all I’ve got are hugs and head pats. Let me know if there was anything here that changed your view, even if it was only one aspect. Or let me know if I’m completely insane. I’ll accept that, too.  

This was fun. Take care!

-KO

[sankttealeaf]

this is late but any out of 14,18,22,24,27 for the writer asks? <3

this is also a late response but here we go<3 answering these fic writer asks!

14. where do you get your inspiration?

mainly when i'm laying in bed trying to go to sleep. i like to just put my guys into situations and sometimes i come up with good things. i have a lot of bad spoon days so i'm stuck in bed just thinking about things

the market scene in let sleeping dogs lie where gortash buys rue a cat figurine and she breaks it came from a week last december where i got sick and couldnt do much except lay in bed. i had that scene planned months before i would ever need to write it :')

i'm always thinking of situations!! its not a bad coping mechanism if i'm getting something out of it, right?

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

a scene from a cut chapter where gortash takes rue to a fancy dinner to get her to kill someone for him - this got turned into the party chapter :) the gift in question are her little dagger earrings but i ended up making gortash give them to her later on as a thank u for looking after him post-cania

She rolls her eyes. “Maybe we should sleep together. That way I’ll be rid of you.” “You would miss me.” “I wouldn't. Not when you keep putting me in shitty clothes like this.” “You look divine. I think you should let me dress you up more often. You would look exquisite covered in fine jewellery and expensive fabrics. Speaking of-” He takes out a small box from the inside of his coat, the sudden loss of his hand against her leg feels odd and Rumour takes this moment to put her feet back down on the floor. Gortash hands her the box. “If you’re proposing, at least get on your knees,” she says as he laughs. “Do you think of me often on my knees?” “Yes.” She takes the box from him. “It is required to kneel before me in the temple. You could do with following that rule.” “It would take more than that to get me to kneel before you.” He sits back, waiting for her to open the box. “You, on the other hand, would look delightful on your knees in front of me.” “Think of me often like that?” she repeats, an eyebrow raised and a smirk across her face. “I’m certain that me kneeling before you has nothing to do with being a devout follower of the Gods.” “What you could do on your knees is something the Gods only wish they could do.” “I’m not getting you off, Gortash.” “You don’t have to be kneeling to do that.” He nudges his leg against hers. “Open the gift.”

22. do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?

i used to! bad in the early days of sharing my durgetash stuff i was worried that people would find me weird for being on the gortash train, but as time has gone on there's a (relatively) nice community for durgetash now which has eased my worries

i also think i'm at the point in my life where i dont really care if people think what i'm writing is too much or whatever. i write for myself & share it in case anyone else wants to read it, but at the end of the day its for me. idc what people may think!!

24. how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?

i try and do something else completely! i also draw, so i tend to flip-flop between writer mode and artist mode a lot which is great! i also listen to a lot of music to help get me in the zone. but sometimes the best cure is to not do anything at all and wait it out !!

27. your favorite part of the writing process

daydreaming about all the ideas i have and planning them down into vaguely coherant points

and also writing the parts i really really am excited for and can visualise so clearly in my head

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Just a Little Teasing

Hey, remember this very NSFW sketch I posted last year? When I was posting it again completely uncensored over on my pillowfort, I got inspired to write a flashfic about it. I think I was influenced by the little writing clip I posted along with the vampire AU picture over there. Maybe I'll make posting small writing teasers along with my art a thing...

Anyway, it's just some quick PWP smut between Jack and Alice. I figured I'd share it here like I do with other rough drafts since I suspect there might be one or two people who'd enjoy reading it. Just a hunch.

I'm not sure if I need to put up content warnings beyond mentioning the explicit sexual acts, but just in case, there's also mild possessiveness and a brief reference to body image issues. For the most part it's just Jack shamelessly teasing and pleasuring Alice while she gets flustered.

I hope you enjoy this short romp of lewd fun times with Jack and Alice. Please let me know if you did, thanks! 💖

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

...

Alice yelped as Jack suddenly pulled her into his lap, her back flush against his chest. She froze as she felt his hardness press between her legs, and panic shot through her as she realized just how much weight that she was putting on such a delicate part of his body.  “I-I’m too heavy! I’m-”

“Shhh… It’s okay,” Jack shushed gently into her ear before kissing her there, and the sensation caused Alice to shiver. “It’s okay, sunshine. You’re not too heavy for me. I’m just fine. You could sit in my lap all day if you wanted.”

Despite his reassurance, Alice couldn’t let go of her skepticism so easily. A look back over her shoulder allowed her to see Jack’s reassuring smile, and she squeaked when he stole a kiss from her.

“Oh Alice…,” Jack sighed happily as he slid his arms around her soft middle. “I love being this close to you, holding you without anything between us.” He placed a kiss onto her shoulder next, and he smiled at the way she shivered against him. “You’re so warm, so soft… I could hold you like this forever.”

Alice gasped as Jack moved to kissing her neck next, and she tilted her head to give him room to mark a trail along her flushed skin. His soothing words and gentle kisses slowly managed to calm her worries, but they quickly made her heart race with excitement instead. It made her that much more aware of him and the position they were in, particularly the rock hard erection pressed so intimately between her legs. “Jack…”

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect,” Jack said between kisses, his voice tickling her skin. “Look how perfectly we fit together. It’s like you were made for me.”

At that subtle direction, Alice couldn’t help but look down at the head of his dick pressed delicately against her folds. It also unintentionally caused her to focus on the swell of her belly and how much it got in the way. The disgust towards her fat barely flitted through her mind before suddenly their position shifted slightly as he spread her legs apart and leaned back a little, exposing her pussy even more, much to her mortification. “Jack!? What the heck?”

“Just look at how wet you are,” Jack said beside her ear in a low growl that sent another shiver through Alice as his voice reverberated through her. She could hear the hunger in his voice, and she glanced back to see his eyes roaming across her body shamelessly, drinking in the sight of her in such a compromising position. “You’re already so eager to have me inside you, aren’t you?”

Alice let out a noise of mashed together syllables rather than anything coherent as Jack slid his hand downward along her belly, the other holding her thigh at a wide angle to keep her exposed to him. Her heart pounded as she watched his hand move lower, his large fingers teasingly rubbing at her mound and toying with her pubic hair.

Jack chuckled at the embarrassed sounds Alice made and the heavy blush that spread along her face to her ears and neck. “Would you like that, sunshine?” he cooed before nipping at her ear. “You can tell me.” He ran his tongue along her ear and was rewarded for it with a low moan from his lover. “Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Hesitantly, Alice nodded, and Jack couldn’t help but smile mischievously.

“Can you say it?” Jack inched his fingers a little lower, just barely skirting where she burned hottest. “I’ll do whatever you want me to. You just have to tell me what it is you want, Alice.”

A keening whine escaped Alice despite herself. After all that, Jack decided to start teasing her now? His fingers feathered her skin close to her pussy, too light to do more than make her maddeningly aware of his delicate touch. “T-touch me… I want you to touch me.”

Jack smiled wickedly. “As you wish,” he said before stroking her inner thighs, focusing his fingers everywhere except where she ached for him the most.

Frustration won over embarrassment and Alice let out a noise that was somewhere between a whine and a grunt. “Jack! You know what I meant.”

“Oh?” Jack asked with feigned innocence that wasn’t even remotely convincing. “I’m sorry, sunshine. Could you tell me where you want me to touch you?”

“You know damn where,” Alice grumbled.

“Now, now, sunspot, there’s no need to get riled up,” Jack said with a crooked grin as he slowly ran his finger up and down along her thigh. “All you have to do is let me know exactly what you want, what you need, and I’ll give it to you…”

Alice eyed Jack. The smugness in his smile and the playful glint in his eye didn’t escape her notice. A childish part of her stubbornly wanted to deny his request - especially since she was mortified by the idea of actually saying she wanted him to do - but the burning of her core served as a strong counter-argument.

After a moment’s thought, Alice came up with a compromise, and she grabbed his wrist to direct his hand where she needed him the most. “Here. T-touch me here.”

Though surprised, Jack was certainly not disappointed by her counter. He chuckled in amusement before he began to stroke her clit, drawing out a low moan from her in return. “Good girl,” he cooed into her ear. She huffed at the praise, only for the displeased sound to turn into another moan as he expertly teased her sensitive nub into hardness. “That’s it, Alice. That’s my good girl. Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

Instinctively Alice rocked into his hand, but she could barely move while in this precarious and exposed position. However, that slight movement was enough for her to notice the way Jack’s cock twitched against her in response. She was so aware of the feel of him, how hard and hot he was, how a little bit of precum was dribbling down the length to mingle with the wetness leaking out of her. His body was a mixture of hard muscle and soft curves spooning her from behind, holding her lovingly in place.

When Jack slid the first finger inside of her, Alice couldn’t help but moan his name as she tipped her head back against him. He ran his tongue along her neck down to her shoulder to get a taste of the sweetness of her skin, eliciting another moan from her as he teased her pussy with practiced ease.

“That’s it, sunshine,” Jack practically purred against her ear. “Don’t overthink it. All you have to do is feel. Feel just how much I love you, and how much you love me. Feel just how good it is to have my fingers inside this pretty little hole of yours.” He slid in a second finger for emphasis, sending another jolt of pleasure through Alice that he could feel as she shuddered against him. “Can you feel it, Alice? Can you feel how much I love you?”

Alice nodded shakily. She could feel his love, as crazy as that concept was; she could feel it almost as clearly as she could feel his fingers moving around inside her, spreading and twisting to tease her senses. He knew just how to touch her to drive her crazy, pumping his fingers vigorously in and out in one minute, then the next leaving her keening as he removed them to trace her dewy folds with a feather light touch, before taking a moment to toy with her clit to send an intense jolt of pleasure through her. “Jack! Oh god, Jack!”

Jack smiled in satisfaction at the way Alice squirmed ineffectively, helpless to his ministrations. “That’s it, Alice,” he growled against her ear. “Say my name. Tell me just how much you love this… how much you love me.”

Alice groped at his arm for support, eventually settling on his wrist just above where his fingers were working their magic. There was little else she could do but writhe in his arms and moan as she let him take total control.

Briefly, Jack paused what he was doing to lift his hand, just enough that Alice could easily see the slick that coated his fingers. “Look at how wet you are for me. You’re practically dripping.” He rubbed the slick between his fingers before spreading them for emphasis, letting it dribble off his fingers. “I’m the only one who can make you like this, Alice… you’re so wet and needy for me and only me.”

Alice brought her free hand to her mouth and bit her lower lip as she stifled an embarrassed sound. “Jack…”

In one easy motion, Jack slid his fingers back inside of her, eliciting a moan that she muffled behind her hand. “Hey now, there’s no need to hold back, sunshine,” he teased, all the while pumping his fingers in and out. “Don’t cover your mouth. I want to hear every pretty moan you make for me. I want you to scream my name so that the whole world can hear just how much you need me.”

“Y-you’re such… such a p-perv today,” Alice said, her voice broken up between pants and moans.

Jack couldn’t help but chuckle at the feeble mock protest from Alice. “Oh? Well, something tells me you like it when I act this way, sunspot.” He disrupted the rhythm, stroking at a quick and irregular pace to elicit jolts of pleasure through her body that made her yelp and shudder. “Just look at how well you’re taking my fingers. You keep squeezing them like you never want to let me go.”

Alice struggled to come up with a wry retort despite her embarrassment, but the pleasure made her thoughts hazy. He kept ramping it up only to slow down as it started to crest, leaving her helpless but to ride out the waves of pleasure he stirred up inside her. “Jack you’re just… unnh…” A sudden jolt caused her to nearly buckle, but his grip held her firmly in place. “Fuck yes! There, right there!”

“That’s it,” Jack said in a near growl as he teased her sweet spots without mercy. “Just tell me what you want, what you need… and I’ll give it all to you. Only you.”

“O-only me,” Alice repeated shakily as she turned to look at him.

In her hazy blue eyes Jack saw her desire for him, but beyond that there was also a different sort of need. His heart squeezed in return when he felt that old scar of hers ache, and his expression softened before he kissed her deeply, pouring all of his love and desire for her into it.

“Only you, Alice,” Jack agreed between ragged breaths once they came up for air. “I’m only yours… forever. I love you more than life itself.”

“I love you t-too,” Alice said, “Ja-Jack!” His name turned into an animalistic cry that tumbled from her lips as Jack suddenly redoubled his efforts to pleasure her. He pumped his fingers into her without mercy, forcing out all thoughts but for him and all the love he gave to her in every sense of the word.

“I love you so much, Alice,” Jack said in a low, husky voice beside her ear as he drove Alice closer and closer to the edge. “I love you, only you, forever. I love you, Alice. You’re the only one I want, the only one I need.”

“Ja… J-Jac…ack!” Alice whimpered before finally it turned into a wordless scream of love and pleasure as her world turned to white.

“There we go,” Jack cooed against her skin, kissing her sweetly as she rode out the tsunami of pleasure that washed over her. “That’s it… cum for me, sunshine. God… you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and all for me…”

It was only as Alice was coming down from the high that she could understand the sweet praise he murmured in her ear. She turned back to him, exhausted and out of breath, but her blue eyes burning with emotion. “All… for me…”

“All for you,” Jack repeated gently before he and Alice shared a brief but tender kiss. “I’m yours and only yours… just like you’re only mine, Alice… forever.”

“Forever,” Alice sighed as she snuggled up against him and basked in the gentle afterglow.

Her slight movement brought her attention back to the hard length nestled between her legs that had been patiently waiting for her all this time. It twitched against her still sensitive skin, hot, hard, and so very eager. Alice turned to look at Jack, and saw his eyes smoldering like burning embers, filled with promises that their night of lovingly marking their claim on one another had only just begun.

[musical-shit-show]

showed up just in time

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: Prompts #12 (“don’t move, i’ll be right there.”), #35 (“i’d be lying if i said i didn’t miss you.”) and #82 (“you’re really warm. it’s nice.”) from Prompt List 2 with a little bit of “Afterglow” and “This Love” by Taylor Swift in there somewhere

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunkenness, vomiting (sorry), mild angst, cursing, reader is a ball of anxiety, fluff at the end

Word Count: 3,550

Author’s Note: This took me a LONG time but I’m so glad that I’m writing for Dewey again. I know it’s not as popular as my BJ one shots (and don’t worry, I will be continuing to write those as well to fill the sandworm-sized hole in my heart after the Broadway production closes) but I think it’s important to give Dewey a little bit of love every once and a while. As always, if you like these kinds of fics, please like/comment/reblog and check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists if you want to submit a request! Thanks to everyone who has interacted with my posts so far; it really does mean a lot. Happy reading and Merry Christmas!

Don’t call him.

Do not call him.

Under no circumstances should you be calling him.

Your alcohol-addled brain managed to scream at you as your eyes flickered over your ex’s contact photo. You knew it wasn’t the smartest decision, but what other choice did you have?

The phrase ‘absolutely shit-faced’ rang in your head. Despite the prep work—eating a sizable meal beforehand, drinking water, strictly adhering to the liquor before beer rule—the world around you was tipping on its axis, the ground feeling more precarious with each passing second.

Maybe it was the lemon drop shots. It was always the lemon drop shots.

To make matters worse, you’d barely know where you were sober, let alone when you were on the verge of a blackout. Your friends, who were even drunker than you were at that point, had lost you somewhere along the way on your yearly holiday bar crawl. It wasn’t exactly their fault; the group was incredibly intoxicated, and you tended to wander.

You wouldn’t have been in this predicament if you and Dewey hadn’t broken up only weeks before. More accurately, you wouldn’t have been in this predicament if you hadn’t broken up with him when your brain decided to concoct a delightful cocktail of abandonment issues and anxiety. That was always your M.O. in relationships; duck and run before you could get your heart broken.

But it was cold. And dark. And in your impaired state of mind, you had no one else to turn to.

So, there you were, standing on a deserted sidewalk, in the frigid air, calling the last person in the whole city who wanted to see or hear from you.

After three agonizing rings, a hesitant voice answered.

“Did, uh, you mean to call me?”

“Dew,” you breathed, “Thank god. Uh—I need you. I mean, I’m out and lost and I just—”

“You’re drunk.” His tone wasn’t accusatory, but was instead tinged with concern. 

You sighed heavily, leaning up against the brick wall of the convenience store that inhabited the street corner where you stood. You tried desperately to steady your breathing as a wave of nausea approached.

“Yes. I am,” you said, trying your best to not to sound too wasted, “And I’m sorry. I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t serious. But I’m by myself and fucked up and don’t have my fucking keys—”

“Don’t move, I’ll be right there.” Three beeps and the call ended abruptly. The thought of him actually coming to get you snapped you back into semi-coherence. You suddenly became acutely aware of your skimpy dress, disheveled hair, smudged makeup.

You looked like a fucking wreck.

Like lightning, you whipped open your camera app and frantically smoothed down your strands and smeared your eyeliner off with a few swipes of a finger. More presentable, but only slightly so. If your phone call wasn’t enough of an indication, your appearance would certainly let Dewey know that you were sloshed.

Even more jarring was the fact that time was now slowing. Your drinks were finally catching up to you as you felt a throbbing in your right temple. Luckily, you didn’t have much time to think about how drunk you were, because a familiar screech of tires made you blink your eyes open to see a mess of wavy brown hair poking out the window.

“Get in,” Dewey said urgently, surveying your immediate surroundings, “Please.” Without a word, you scurried behind the back of his van—which was somehow still miraculously running despite being at least two decades old—and got into the passenger seat.

You sat in a tense silence, the liquor still churning in your stomach as he slowed the vehicle to a stop at a red light. His fingers tapped frantically, rhythmically on the steering wheel.

“Thank you,” you breathed awkwardly, unsure of exactly what to say. Luckily, Dewey had plenty on his mind.

“Are you crazy?” he asked incredulously, exasperated as the light changed from red to green. He stepped on the gas pedal lightly despite his disgruntled demeanor, “You’re lucky some creep didn’t try to harass you or worse. And where are your friends? Or are you making a habit of going out by yourself these days?”

His words were harsh, but you could tell his nerves were rattled. You knew something like this would happen, but you didn’t really have any other option. Dewey was always protective of you, even with his reputation of being somewhat unreliable.

You blinked at him stupidly and sat back into the worn leather seat. “How did you know where I was?” you asked, completely ignoring his line of inquiry with your own, less imperative one. Dewey couldn’t help but let out a cautious chuckle.

“You uh, never stopped sharing your location with me,” he said sheepishly, “I guess it came in handy tonight, huh?” You nodded silently, your heart pounding in your chest. Pathetic didn’t even begin to describe how you felt. “You didn’t answer my questions.”

A heavy exhale left your throat dryly, fogging up the passenger side window, “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does fucking matter if you’re getting trashed alone at weird bars. I’m—I’d be worried about you.”

Crossing your arms like a petulant child, you couldn’t bear to look at Dewey. Since when was he the responsible one and you were the hot mess? “I didn’t go alone,” you muttered quietly, “I was with my friends, we all got hammered, and I wandered off.”

“God, I hate your friends sometimes,” he said with another dry laugh, “They should know to keep you on a leash whenever you drink.”

“Hey!” you punched him lightly in the arm as he turned onto his street, “You can’t be mean to me, I’m drunk.” Dewey shifted the van into park and unbuckled himself with a flourish.

“I can definitely be a little mean to you, seeing as you made me drive out in the freezing cold to get your plastered ass.” In a flash, he was opening the door and helping you out onto the pavement. You were finally getting your bearings when your heel caught the edge of the sidewalk and making you trip. Right into Dewey’s arms.

You looked him up and down, a sheepish smile on your face as he propped you back upright, “You’re really warm,” you remarked dumbly, his body heat radiating off of him as he hooked his arm around your waist to keep you from falling again, “It’s nice.”

“Jesus Christ, kid, you are drunk.”

Kid.

Maybe it was a reflex, but that single pet name made your stomach do a somersault, lemon drops be damned. As you neared his door, though, you felt your throat tighten, and it wasn’t due to your ex’s arm wrapped firmly around your body.

The alcohol was finally fighting back, and you knew you were vastly outmatched. “Uh, not to be that person, but…” You were choking out your words as Dewey swung his front door open, “I need to throw up. Like, now.”

He raised his eyebrows but his expression remained unsurprised. “Alright, superstar. Let’s go,” he walked you to the bathroom as quickly as he could without upsetting your stomach even more. He took one glance at your face, which had quickly turned a pallid green color.

Dewey couldn’t help but laugh at this situation. When the two of you were together, it was you who would take care of him nearly every time he’d have one too many at the Roadhouse. Having the tables turn like this, when you were broken up no less, made him feel like he was in an alternate universe.

As soon as you laid eyes on the door, you rushed into Dewey’s bathroom and slammed it shut. Your last three drinks emptied into the toilet bowl, the acid from your stomach burning your throat. The bitter taste made you gag even more, and in a few moments, your stomach felt void of all contents.

Hot tears of embarrassment fell onto the tile as you leaned up against the door. The cold floor was almost soothing as heat radiated throughout your body, but it did nothing to quell your distress. You jolted at the sound of a light knock behind you.

“Hey, you okay?” Dewey asked softly.

“Oh, just peachy.”

“Yeah, sounds like it. Want me to hold your hair back?” You could hear his smirk through the door. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself.

“Not to be gross, but, uh, there’s not much left,” you said queasily, “It’s the sewer system’s problem now.” You heard him let out a small laugh himself, which caused your throat to grow even drier. “I’ll be out in a sec, just gotta’ freshen up. Thank you, though. Again.”

A beat passed, but you knew he was still at the door. You clawed at the skin around your fingernails, a favorite nervous habit of yours. “Don’t mention it,” he said finally, “But you so owe me one.”

***

After some soap and water, a decent amount of mouthwash, and swiping a t-shirt and pajama pants that you had unfortunately left behind only weeks earlier, you exited ready to face the shame of barfing in your ex’s bathroom after one (or four) too many.

“I see you finally finished hanging your collection,” you said, gingerly sitting down on his couch. With his new tutoring gig, Dewey was able to afford a few more guitars, which were now prominently displayed on the wall. He emerged from the kitchen, a tall glass of water in one hand and two Advil in the other.

He sat down next to you, making a point to refrain from any physical contact, “Well, I’ve had some free time.” That stung. And Dewey knew it. Both of you wore your heart on your sleeve, which meant you could read each other extremely well. “Sorry.”

You shook your head, “No, uh, that’s…that’s warranted.” He handed you the pills and the water, and you couldn’t help but smile. “My savior.” Dewey let another smirk creep onto his face.

“Sorry, but could you just say that one more time, for the record?” he asked as he whipped out his phone, “I need some audio proof of that little nugget of gratitude.” You barked out a laugh and shoved his arm away from you. He smiled back at you, but you could so clearly see the sadness filling his eyes. “Uh, you sure you’re feeling alright? Sounded pretty gnarly in there for a while.”

Your face reddened again, but the look of genuine concern on Dewey’s face made your pulse slow. “Yeah,” you choked out, “I mean, I still feel a little woozy, but ten times better than before, I swear.” You threw the aspirin into your mouth and gulped down the majority of the water. “But just know, if you ever tell anyone about tonight, I will have to kill you.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” he crossed two fingers over his heart in mock reverence, “Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t a Boy Scout,” you deadpanned.

“Not in practice,” he dropped his regality and tucked his arms across his chest, “But I just know I could’ve crushed those nerds in knot tying.”

Even though you couldn’t stifle your laughter at his corniness, it was almost unbearable trying to bring yourself to look at him for more a few seconds. “So…how are the kids?” The best course of action was to change the subject. Dewey smiled softly and sat down next to you, making sure to leave a considerable distance.

“They’re, uh, good.” Now it was his turn to not meet your eye. “Little shitheads, but they somehow manage to blow me away a little more every day.” Your heart squeezed in your chest every time he mentioned the Horace Green kids. They all idolized him of course, and he adored them in return. “Need anything else? Another blanket? Glass of water? Maybe another round of tequila?”

You shuddered at the thought. “Absolutely not, Dew,” you giggled, despite your head still pounding. A pit formed in your stomach despite his lightheartedness; he was being so sweet after you had been so shitty. “I’m sorry. Again. I just, I don’t know when I became such a fucking trainwreck.”

Dewey sighed and grabbed a blanket that was draped over the back of the couch and placed it on your shoulders. “You’re not a fucking trainwreck. Everyone has bad nights. I just can’t believe you called me of all people. Pretty sure Ned still wouldn’t trust me to pick him up when he was wasted.”

“Well, he should,” you muttered softly, heartache radiating through your entire body, “You’re a good person, Dewey. A great person. I’m just, I’m sorry that—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cut you off, “We don’t have to. I mean, it’s okay. I understand.” He took your palm gently into his, absentmindedly rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. The small act of gentleness almost made you uncontrollably sob.

And as time passed, you found it was becoming harder and harder to blame the alcohol for your actions. Your harrowing experience in the bathroom meant you were only sobering up faster, and you couldn’t stop yourself from spilling your guts to Dewey. Metaphorically, this time.

“No, I—I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you, Dew,” you voice trembled as you finally met his gaze, which was partially hidden behind his mess of wavy brown hair. You couldn’t bear to look at his sad puppy dog eyes for long and involuntarily shrunk in on yourself, pulling his blanket closer to your chest. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You felt a few hot tears fall from your eyes, and quickly wiped them away regretfully. This whole night was like a long, agonizing parade of humiliation, and Dewey had a front row seat. And the worst part was, you were the one who had invited him to the shitshow.

Dewey closed the distance between you, his hand still grasping yours. You were now shoulder to shoulder, his stocky frame comforting you despite your discomfort. “Why don’t we talk about this tomorrow? I think we’d both agree you need some rest.” You nodded, like a sleepy child finally agreeing to an afternoon nap.

You rested your head on one of the throw pillows, the fleece feeling plush against your cheek. Dewey teetered on the balls of his feet for a moment, running a damp palm through his messy hair. You were already starting to drift off, your eyelids heavy with sleep. The final phase of a drunken stupor always seemed to result in you knocking out fairly quickly.

After quietly tidying up, he couldn’t help but smile at how fast you had drifted off to sleep as you laid peacefully on his sofa. Gently, he placed a light kiss on your forehead. You didn’t stir. Dewey’s affection for you still felt like second nature, even while you dreamt.

He missed you. He never stopped missing you, loving you, but it wasn’t his place to take you at your word when you weren’t sober.

No matter how much he wanted to believe you meant what you said, he couldn’t bear to have his heart broken again.

***

The sun was your mortal enemy. Every ray that peaked through Dewey’s curtains pierced you like a knife to the chest. You groaned angrily, grabbing one of the surprisingly soft pillows from behind your head and pulling it over your face. Maybe you would suffocate and save yourself from the indignity of the previous evening.

“Ah, I forgot how much of a morning person you were,” Dewey drawled dryly from the kitchen. You removed the pillow and sat up. He was sitting peacefully in his flannel pajama pants and Iron Maiden t-shirt. You remembered picking that shirt out for him at the thrift store.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, the aroma of coffee wafted towards you as Dewey sat on the couch with a mug in hand. “Like you’re one to talk,” you replied, still squinting, “I distinctly remember someone saying waking up before noon was ‘early’ in your book.”

“People change,” he shrugged. You muttered an unenthused “Yeah,” as you pulled the blanket towards your chest. You wished you were a magician so you could throw it over your head and disappear. “Here,” he held the mug in your direction, “splash of cream, one sugar.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, which had become chapped overnight. You hadn’t been nervous in front of Dewey since before you started dating, and now you could barely look at him. “Thanks,” you took it from him, your fingers brushing against his as you grabbed the handle. You instantly felt your heart flutter.  

“I was a total idiot last night, wasn’t I?” You set the coffee down and threw your head into your hands. You did always have a flair for the dramatic. It’s one of the first things you and Dewey bonded over.

He nodded, “Oh yeah,” he winced, “How much do you remember?”

Your mind instantly flashed to an image of your body crouched over Dewey Finn’s toilet bowl.

“Enough.”

“So, you don’t remember sucker punching that chick who was flirting with me when I picked you up?”

“I did what?!” You knew you could get feisty when you drank, but you had zero recollection of talking to anyone when you left the bar, let alone fighting some random girl. Before you could ask any follow ups, Dewey burst into a fit of laughter, throwing his head back effortlessly. You blinked at him before narrowing your eyes in suspicion. “You little shit.”

“What, is it my fault that you’re so goddamn gullible?” he choked out between cackles. You stewed unconvincingly before cracking a smile. Rubbing a stray tear from his eye, he cleared his throat, “Or maybe it’s believable that you’d still fight for little ol’ me?”

You dug your fingernails into your palms, which had already begun to sweat. Dewey knew exactly what he was doing with that one. He always made it seem like he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but you knew he was much smarter than people gave him credit for. More perceptive, too. Which meant he could read you like the newest copy of Rolling Stone.

Now it was you who was shedding tears yet again. “Whoa hey, hey,” he said, immediately noticing your eyes glazing over, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have joked about that.” He inched closer to you, but you turned away, still guilt-sick from the events of the past 12 hours.

“No, Dew, the thing is…you’re right,” you said with a sniff, a tremor overtaking your voice, “I would’ve. I would’ve fought for you. I should’ve. But I was fighting against myself. And we all know what a losing battle that can be.”

Dewey shifted on the couch restlessly, hesitant to try and console you; no matter how much he wanted to grab your hand, tell you it was alright, that you could work it out, he knew that he needed to hear you out first.

“I meant what I said last night,” you murmured, finally able to meet his gaze, “I miss you. A lot. I think about you all the time, and I feel like such a fucking idiot for ending things between us, because, well. Because I love you. I still love you.”

Dewey usually had a comeback or snarky remark ready to go, but not now. He was completely speechless. For a long moment, at least. You watched as a relieved smile spread across his face, unable to contain the joy he was feeling at the thought of getting back together.

“Oh, baby, I love you too,” he said, finally wrapping his arms around your torso. You could smell his body wash, earthy and clean and comforting, “You drive me absolutely insane, and don’t ever think about leaving a bar by yourself again, but I missed you so goddamn much.” He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, and for the first time in weeks, your body relaxed.

Throwing your arms around his neck, you played with the unruly waves that fell at the base of his neck as you deepened the kiss. “Whoa, easy there, killer,” he smiled, his lips grazing your cheek, “You better sleep off the rest of this hangover. And since I’m so generous, I’ll let you sleep in my bed.”

You couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow, “What’ll it cost me?” Dewey smirked; you knew him all too well.

“Dinner. You’re paying, obviously.”

“Fair.”

“And drinks.”

“Okay.” He was really milking this for all it was worth.

“And of course, makeup sex is always a must in these situations.”

You gave him one final playful shake of the head before pouncing on him, showering him with affection. Even though you were messing around, you felt your heart swell; no matter what happened, no matter how many times your fear of losing him reared its ugly head, you would choose this. This was real, here, now, and important. This was your love for Dewey, and you’d do everything in your power to keep it this time.

***

Thanks everyone for reading! Please comment/like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[javelinbk]

hi jav ❤️

what do you find the hardest about writing fic and what do you find easiest? (if anything lol)

do you work on multiple at once or do you focus in on one, and what makes you choose that one?

what's your white whale fic? (the idea you've wanted to write forever but you just haven't been able to figure out yet)

Hello!

1. Easiest - dialogue and plot, although I’m definitely running out of ideas on both (don’t count how many times I repeat the same lines of dialogue in my fics). Hardest - all the other stuff that turns a good story into good writing… the interiority, the scene setting, the vivid descriptions. I think I’m getting better at it, but I really have to force myself to try harder… I’d much rather just go back to the sixties, hand John and Paul a script with basic stage directions and say, ‘aaand, action!’

2. I always seem to have a few fics on the go - if I’m posting one, then I’m normally editing another one and writing a third. There’s usually only one that takes the majority of my focus though, and without doubt it will be the newest, shiniest idea… the one where I can just write things as they come to me and not worry about boring things like editing or forming a coherent plot or character arc. But it does mean that things keep getting pushed down the list, especially when there’s fic events. I also didn’t plan on writing 30k words for Secret Santa, so that took up most of the last couple of months!

3. I’ve been thinking about writing a fic set during Anthology for what feels like years, and I’ve written the first chapter and the very end… I’m just not sure what I want to happen in the middle. Not sure if I’ll ever come back to it, but who knows, moko!

Thank you my lovely!

[prefer-to-be-vilified]

Wait y do u love Tyler?

I definitely rambled way more than intended. So answers under the cut. But just as an fyi this is still very much a wenclair blog if that’s what you’re worried about lol.

He’s just a very interesting character and though I really enjoyed Wednesday (obviously) a lot of the side characters were very underdeveloped while Tyler wasn’t which as a character driven reader/watcher is really important to me.

I’m not into the Wednesday x Tyler ship so I don’t really make much content about him as that seems to be the majority of his part of the fandom. I didn’t hate it in the beginning but post S1 I just don’t really see Wednesday ever being in a place where she lets herself be vulnerable around him again at least not in a romantic context. And also after his involvement in what happened to both Thing and Enid I personally believe it would go against all of Wednesday’s character development from S1. Realistically speaking I just think they would be really toxic together but some people are into that (fictionally speaking) and others might see it differently so no hate to anyone’s ships, you’re into what you’re into, all ships are totally valid and hating on what other people love because of unnecessary shipping wars is honestly the worst part about being in fandom.

Having said that I still really liked Tyler as a character and definitely want to see more of him. Either continuing on as a villain or having him go through a redemption ark. He made an interesting antagonist for Wednesday, which for an character who thrives in scary environments isn’t super easy to do. Especially since Netflix’s Wednesday isn’t as satirical as previous Addams family adaptations. But the way he, as the villain, managed to manipulate Wednesday’s main weakness - that being her loneliness due to the fact that she doesn’t fit in - by making her feel wanted was something I really enjoyed (not for Wednesday obvi but from the pov of a story ark and yes I know she would deny ever being lonely to her dying breath but learning that although she might not need people, letting those who accept her for who she is close to her and learning that she may actually want that is literally the theme of S1).

I’ve done a couple of re-watches now and the main three characters in my opinion are Wednesday, Tyler and Enid. Both Tyler and Enid having a significant influence on Wednesday’s character development throughout the season. And I think building the future seasons around these three is the best choice going forward. Not just because they’ve already got a good foundation of character development behind them but because they all contain both light and darkness presented in three very different ways. I got three hours of sleep last night so I can’t explain that in a coherent way rn but if someone wants to ask me later I’ll try and reply when I have a brain. But basically they’re three very complicated people who don’t fit even when they try. And although they don’t always get along they seem to recognise themselves within each other, whether they know it or not. Enid constantly being suspicious of Tyler is a good example of this. It’s her sensing him suppressing/hiding his dark-side because she does the same thing. Wednesday as someone who is comfortable in her darkness subconsciously saw the darkness within them both, intriguing her enough to allow them close to her while aesthetically speaking most would claim they weren’t her type. And once they were close enough they began to influence each other in both positive and negative ways. Wednesday became more considerate of people feelings, let them close to her and began to acknowledge that maybe having friends wasn’t a bad thing and the possibility of spending her life alone perhaps wasn’t the life she wanted for herself. Wednesday embracing Enid at the end is a testament to her growth in S1 because despite what happened with Tyler she chooses not to push Enid away. And while Wednesday was learning she didn’t have to live in complete darkness and solitude, Enid learnt that she didn’t have to pretend she was the personification of rainbows and daisies to make people like her. She started to embrace her differences, broke some rules, stood up to her mom and to Wednesday and learnt that she didn’t need to filter herself to fit in because she was who she was and the people who should be in her life would stay even when she wasn’t pretty and perfect all the time. This is what inevitably lead to her connecting with the darkness of her wolf side and allowed her to transform when Wednesday needed her. Tyler obviously went way off the deep end and went full psycho and if you read between the lines a bit I think Wednesday honestly made him worse (see previous they’d be toxic declaration) but you have to consider Laurel/Ms Thornhill’s influence as well. And I think that’s why he intrigues me as a character because he fucked up. And now he either has to fight to atone for that and drag himself back into the light (with the help of Wednesday and Enid) or he could embrace that darkness in full. Becoming what Wednesday (despite what she may claim) doesn’t want to be and proving to her that a life of darkness and solitude isn’t what she should strive for. Yes she’s weird and spooky and will always love death and destruction that shouldn’t change and doesn’t need to change. But I see a lot of people claim she lacks a moral compass and is a straight up psychopath. And though she definitely has different morals than would be considered normal, as they lean into her kill or be killed macabre nature that comes with being an Addams, she definitely doesn’t lack empathy and will, in my opinion, never be the bad guy (like yeah I 100% believe she would kill someone but she’d have a good reason and I’m sure the piece of shit would deserve it).

So either he becomes the overarching villain across the however many seasons of Wednesday there will be - mirroring what Wednesday fears she could be but doesn’t want to be - or he goes through a time of reflection/confliction where he doesn’t really know where he stands, both as a person and a Hyde, nor what he wants to be. Possibly becoming a Nevermore student, or just existing within Jericho surrounded by people who hate/don’t trust him because of who he is and what he did. But slowly nurturing significant relationships with the main cast regardless due to whatever circumstances throw them together again. Again I don’t want Wyler to happen but watching how Wednesday reacts to someone who betrayed her as he tries to be a better person and earn her trust would be super interesting to watch. Especially if the writers got him to a point where he would put himself in danger to protect Wednesday and/or Enid because yeah S1 happened but somehow he’s grown to love these bitches. Like THATS a character ark I would kill to see. And now that he’s away from Laurel/Ms Thornhill there’s definitely room for that to happen. Like yeah okay he murdered people but he was suppressed, neglected, manipulated and abused and this is a fictional tv show. No he’s not completely innocent but as a Hyde with a master he wasn’t in full control of himself and that leaves enough room for him to redeem himself in my opinion.

I mean look at this face…

Adorable. I just think he’s neat okay. This is still a predominantly Wenclair blog so you don’t have to stress if you really don’t like his character but I personally do. And him developing cute platonic relationships with Wednesday and Enid in the coming seasons is definitely something I want to see happen (personally I love to headcanon that Enid and a redeemed Tyler will always low key have beef with eachother but in a sibling-y “I can fight them but no one else better even think about it” way). Even though a lot of other Wenclair shippers are very anti-Tyler.

[lostloveletters]

Hi Battie! I was wondering how you get inspo for your OCs? Like how do you come up with them and everything? If you’re ok with sharing that ofc!! Love your writing💖

Thank you so much! This means a lot to me considering I'm relatively new to making OCs, but people have been really supportive, so I appreciate it more than I can coherently express. I was definitely hesitant to make any, but I think starting with The Godfather helped because it's not a very big, active fandom to begin with, and there isn't a huge readerbase for OC fics on top of that, so it wasn't like I was jumping into a fandom with a lot of eyes on what I was doing or worrying too much about comparison with other writers.

It's honestly so varied! I guess I’ll discuss Gloria (The Godfather) and Holly and Woody (Masters of the Air). I can’t say I make OCs with the intention of them being paired with a specific character. I’ll go into it more under the cut, but Holly and Woody definitely had minds of their own when it came to that lol.

I find it helpful to write short “scenario” type of fics for my own personal reference (I use the term fic loosely because these end up being a mix of actual story and bullet points and chunks of dialogue) to figure out a character’s background and personality. Also making Pinterest boards and playlists are a huge part of the creative process for me! If I get an idea for an OC, I’ll make a private board for them and start adding stuff and see how their vibe comes together over time. Character spreadsheets or question lists (outside of ask games) feel like such a chore to me, so those aren’t part of my process at all.

Gloria

I wasn’t originally planning for Bruised Fruit to become a longfic, but I've always had "Gloria," the little Sicilian-American troublemaker she is, in some shape or form, but she was a lot of vague ideas and a Pinterest board that I never did anything with until I threw her into Bruised Fruit. What’s now the first chapter was just going to be an experimental one-shot because I had that specific idea. I left the ending open to be continued. I still had inspiration, and a few people expressed interest, so from there I kind of had to actually flesh out Gloria to who she was beyond that first chapter.

Holly

Miss Thing went through like 3 names and 2 backstories before I settled on the Holly Dean we have now. I actually started out thinking she was going to be paired with Buck! I started writing Damn Yankees as some background on Holly and Bucky’s friendship because he was going to play matchmaker for her and Buck. Literally so much changed from when I started writing that fic to when I finished. I had two versions of it that I’d switch back and forth between before finally settling on what I posted. As y’all can tell she went way off track the planned track, but I love where she ended up!

Woody

*Ray Liotta in Goodfellas voice* As far back as I can remember, I always knew I wanted to use Veronica Lake's look in So Proudly We Hail as the basis for an OC. Woody also changed a lot! There was always a past she was going to be running from, but the context of that changed from what I started with. I was kind of playing around with the idea of her being with Rosie, but I could never quite get their dynamic right as I began outlining. That’s when Holly kind of took over as my focus. Then as I’d go back to my messy as hell doc for Woody, I figured I’d focus on her friendship with Holly and see if anyone else came to mind in the meantime, and she and Brady just clicked.