#nothing is owed from attempts to engage and talk

[that-dreaded-wolf]

.x

[suntoru]

─ ✰ COUNTDOWN TO YOUR LOVE!!

✧˚ · . 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 most definitely does not have a crush on his best friend. so what’s this feeling when somebody else is planning on confessing to you?

— warnings: oblivious gojo af, fluff, mild violence, might be ooc, please be nice i have only watched like the first episode of jjk, idk what else

— author’s note: is it shittily written? yes. but is it finished? also yes. HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES <;33

“guys, guys, brace yourself for the tea i have!! nanamin is gonna confess to y/n tonight at the new years party!!”

“huh?! seriously?” nobara gasps theatrically, her eyes widening in interest. she springs up from the couch, tail -imaginary or not-wagging in anticipation as she eagerly leans in for the juicy gossip.

*chokes* "...what?" gojo gags on his tea, coughing violently. he's surely joking. there's no way. "y/n, as in like, my best friend, y/n?"

“i know, right? i was surprised too!! after all, i was sure mister nanami was more interested in marrying his paperwork than finding real love, but that’s what i heard!” yuji spills, enthusiasm radiating from every word.

"that's... great." gojo manages to mutter, and for once, he has nothing ese to say.

“it’s about time, he’s pushing thirty, and he’s still single… as the youngsters say, he has… L rizz.” nobara laughs boisterously with her hands on her hips, thoroughly entertained by her own joke. meanwhile, yuji cocks his head in confusion at his friend's delusions. …is she going senile?

“well, aren’t you also single…?”

'hush, yuji! the point is, there's gonna be some spicy drama!" nobara squeals, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "we're talking romance unraveling like a well-scripted k-drama!! get ready for some flashy love confessions, and hopefully, a heart-fluttering kiss scene!!"

11: 56 PM

fuck, why can't i focus? gojo groans as he loses yet another round of mario kart to nobara. the image of you lingers in his mind from earlier that day, engaged in conversation with the blonde. he can't ignore the subtle indications; your flustered demeanor, a slight tint of pink on your cheeks, your refusal to make eye contact. clear signs of a crush. you surely like him back, there's no denying it.

and he should be happy for his friend— should be, but all he can feel is an unexplainable tightness that grips his chest, like a weight he can't shake off. he can't quite put a pin on it, it's an unknown emotion, but it all feels ugly nonetheless. it must have been something he ate earlier. ...yeah, that's it.

as he tries to ignore the overwhemling feeling of dispair, his attention flickers to the lively scene, and there you are, donning one of those goofy 2024 glasses that make your whole demeanor even more endearing. a lopsided smile graces your face as you engage in cheerful banter with megumi, and just like that, a fuzzy feeling envelops him, coaxing a smile to creep up on his face involuntarily. but before he can revel in the moment, a sudden flick on his forehead disrupts his thoughts.

"hey— ow, what was that for?" he whines, rubbing his forehead and directing a puzzled gaze towards utahime.

"you're so dense." she huffs in annoyance, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes at his apparent obliviousness. he looks up at her, confusion etched across his features.

"i- huh? whaddya mean by that?" he stares at her in confusion. utahime sighs in exasperation, irritation visible. "how stupid are you? do i have to spell it out for you? you. like. y/n." the words hang in the air. ...i ... like... y/n...?

and then it hits him like a brick wall. the reason behind stinging feeling in his chest. you being with nanami meant no more midnight snack runs, no more drunken gossip sessions, no more attempts to fluster you. those simple pleasures, the serotonin rush sparked by your mere smile, threaten to slip away.

the thought of losing you; his best friend, his one and only, shakes him to the bottom of his core. his heart, like a drum, pounds in his chest, a resounding beat of denial and awakening. ...no way... he couldn't... does he...?

could he truly say that the way he always seems to gravitate towards you in group gatherings, the way his eyes subconsciously find their way towards yours, the sudden surge of warmth he gets when you praise him was all truly platonic? perhaps he didn't acknowledge it before, but his heart has long declared what he only now comprehends: he loves you. he loves you.

he's loved you ever since you were five and he was seven, when you announced proudly to everyone that you were now his best friend for life. he's loved you when you were eleven and he was thirteen, when you sought refuge in his arms, tears streaming down your face because of a bully. he's loved you when you were eighteen and he was twenty, hung up on some random jerk who didn't even treat you right.

his eyes dart over to where nanami is, pacing closer towards you— he's going to lose everything if he doesn't move.

he can't lose you.

so he runs across the large room, dashing towards you, heaving and huffing. "FIVE!" everybody begins to chant. "gojo?" you good? need something?" "FOUR!" your voice is soft and sweet, like a honeyed daydream, etched with concern. how could he not have realized, it was you all along? it was always going to be you. "THREE!" "hey." he says breathlessly. "yeah?" you mumble, curious as to what he was about to say next. "TWO!" "slap me if you hate it." "hate what?" "ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!"

he pulls you towards him, using both hands to grab your face, planting a passionate on your plush lips, your eyes widening as everybody else cheers knowingly.

bonus!! earlier:

"you like him. gojo."

nanami simply states, a ghost of a smile on his lips. you feel your face heat up. how did he know? was it that obvious? that's so embarrassing... oh my god. you can't look him in the eye, you just want to shrivel up and disappear in the ground... "you're both so stupidly oblivious." he mutters under his breath.

©kaeffeinee 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[worldclueless]

trying to gather my thoughts and put this as eloquently as possible.

if you haven't caught up, recently jenson button gave an interview in which he gave advice to lewis hamilton about his move to ferrari. unsurprisingly, this spurred some 'discourse' (shudders) about how lewis ex-teammates-turned-pundits (mostly nico and jenson Imao) tend to give weird borderline-psycho analysis about lewis even though it has been quite a significant amount of time since they were teammates and who knows if this analysis is even too applicable to lewis as he has changed A LOT since his tenure with them.

and again, unsurprisingly, this brought out a chunk of the fanbase that can never pass up the opportunity to give a dig at lewis and treat guy's like jenson and nico's words like gospel. one frankly gross post went on and on and on about how unbothered jenson was during his time as lewis's teammate (no he was not) and how much of a paranoid weirdo freak lewis was about being challenged by a teammate (never mind the fact his first teammate was fernando fucking alonso).

and this is a worrying trend i see growing amongst a faction of f1 fans who try and ignore the context of lewis and his place in the sport. lewis is a black man in a predominantly white sport. jenson nor nico, no matter how much people will place them on some babygirl pedestal, will NEVER know what that means or what this is like so whenever i hear them recount their time together as teammates, the context of this is always lost.

in 2011, lewis had split with his dad as his manager and was going through a tumultuous time with his girlfriend, nicole. i don't know about you, but if my personal relationships with the people i cared about were on rocky grounds, that would tend to affect how i interact with people at my workplace. nevermind the fact that it was also magazine gossip fodder. that type of spotlight affects you heavy. especially working in the toxic environment of early 2010s mcclaren.

nowadays, lewis, at best, is professional and cordial with both jenson and nico which is not a problem but for some reason some fans think lewis's attention and time should be spent fawning and talking about these men. they're unable to see him as somebody that is not fanfiction fodder for their white faves and it is generally disturbing the lengths they will go to to justify their lack of empathy, compassion, and consideration of his place as he tries to exist within a space that was resistant to accommodating his identity (2007 barcelona testing anyone?).

and if it wasn't bad enough, these same 'fans' have the cheek to imply that hamilton is psychologically weak for not engaging with these guys beyond a professional level. the same man who was racially abused by grown white adults since the age of 12 is psychologically weak. wow. truly stunning. and these fans always give a half-hearted "yeah of course lewis has gone through some racial trauma but-" but nothing. end of. your what fav and you have no fucking clue as to what racial trauma does to black children and how it seriously impacts them. so don't ever try to erase this impact. you're overstepping: it's not your place.

so if it wasn't clear: lewis hamilton does not owe your white fav anything. if he wants to mind his business while rolling by in his scooter, that's not a problem. you brocedes/slagclaren types that only tolerate him for his proximity to these white men are frankly, racist, and your pathetic attempts to hide behind your racism because lewis isn't as perfect as he tries to be' (yeah no shit) make it such a hostile environment for black fans who can smell your bs from a mile away.

[iamwhoami]

Babysitting 101

Chicago Med

You and Connor babysit Owen so that Will and Natalie can still have their date night after the babysitter calls in sick.

Warnings: None

Requested = Yes

Y/L/N = Your Last Name

"Nice job back there Dr. Y/L/N," Connor smiled at you.

The two of you had just finished a relatively easy surgery and had returned to the ED to help with the backlog of patients. Between the icy roads and flu season, they could use all the help they could get in there.

"You weren't too shabby either Dr. Rhodes," You shot back and Connor smirked.

"Quit flirting over there lovebirds," Maggie called out, "Y/N you're needed in Treatment 2. Connor, we have an incoming five minutes out, you're going to Baghdad."

"I'll see you after shift then?" Connor quirked an eyebrow and you nodded.

"You bet."

~~~

The rest of your day flew by without any sight of your boyfriend. You were so busy, constantly rushing from one room to next in an attempt to catch up with the schedule.

By the end of your shift, you were absolutely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to open a bottle of wine and put on your favourite movie while snuggling Connor on the couch.

It was that thought that managed to keep you on your feet.

"I am ready to call it a night," You breathed out while you gathered your items, "I don't know if my feet could stand a moment longer."

"Well, they're going to need to find some juice if you want to get to your car," Maggie joked.

You laughed, "Not if I can convince Connor to carry me there."

"I don't think you'd have any trouble," Maggie said and shook her head, "That man is whipped for you..."

You both chuckled at that but you both also knew it was true. Connor would fly to the moon for you.

"Well, have a good night Y/N," Maggie said and left, leaving you to wait for Connor alone.

You quietly waited on the couch for Connor to finish up his last surgery of the day. Nurses and doctors bustled in and out of the lounge and you wished each and every one of them a good night. You were mostly just on your phone, not actively engaging in any other conversation when you overheard your friend Natalie speaking.

"Sorry Will," She was saying, "The nanny just texted. She can't stay later tonight, something with her sister came up."

"Don't worry about it," Will responded, "I'll cancel the reservation then."

You spoke before you could really think things through, "I can watch Owen!"

When your sudden outburst was met with confused silence, you flushed and fumbled with your words.

"I wasn't eavesdropping, I just overheard," You mumbled quickly, "But seriously if you guys need someone to watch Owen, Connor and I can totally do it."

"Connor won't mind?" Natalie asked and you shook your head.

You and Connor hadn't really talked about kids but this wasn't anything like that. All you had to do was look after a toddler for a few hours. How hard could that be?

"We don't have anything better to do tonight anyway," You told them, "In fact, I think it'll be really fun!"

Natalie chuckled at your enthusiasm, "Well I can assure you that it won't be dull."

"Exactly," You pointed your finger at her, "You and Will go on your date. Do. Not. Cancel. Connor and I will watch Owen."

Will and Natalie took a moment to look at each other as if they were contemplating your offer. Finally, Natalie turned back to face you and nodded.

"Thank you Y/N," Natalie said genuinely, "I owe you one."

You shook your head though, "Nah...you don't owe me anything. I'm just glad I can help."

It was decided that Natalie and Will would go and get ready for their date and that they would drop off Owen when you and Connor were back at your apartment. You figured that you should give Connor a heads up but he was still in surgery and you weren't going to disturb him because he was suddenly on babysitting duty afterwards.

He'd get over it.

About ten minutes later, a tired-looking Connor walked into the doctor's lounge and the deepest part of your gut felt bad that you had dragged him into babysitting Owen after a long shift. That guilt caused you to just stare at your boyfriend for a solid minute before he pointed it out.

"What did you do," Connor demanded teasingly as he turned to face you.

You quickly snapped out of your trance, "Nothing!"

"Uh-huh..." Connor raised an eyebrow, "I know that look Y/N."

You feigned offence, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Connor only continued to stare at you and after a while, you finally caved.

"Okay fine," You sighed. "You have to promise that you won't get mad."

Connor nodded, "Okay..."

"I..." You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them again. "I kind of volunteered us to babysit Owen while Nat and Will go on a date."

Silence.

“So…” You stared at Connor, “Thoughts?”

Connor raised an eyebrow, “You voluntarily agreed to look after a toddler…after working a 12 hour shift…”

“Correct.”

The two of you stood there, staring at each other, unmoving. After a hot second, Connor let out a slightly exasperated sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

“Alrighty then, I suppose we should get going then,” Connor gave you a small smile, “wouldn’t want to keep Nat and Will waiting now would we?”

~~~ Perhaps you had underestimated how exhausting looking after a toddler could be.

No, you definitely had.

Dinner had been tiring enough. Somehow more food had gotten on you and Connor than into Owen's stomach.

"You've got a little something there," Connor teased and wiped mashed potato off your eyebrows.

You laughed, "What? Are you sure it's not my new makeup?"

Game after game. Activity after activity. It just didn't end, and yet somehow, it was you and Connor that were tired out, not Owen.

"Y/N!" Owen's little voice gleefully called out. "Come play!"

You huffed but smiled big for the little boy before pushing yourself onto your feet.

Connor couldn't help but chuckle, "Are you having some regrets right about now?"

"Pfttt, never," You shook your head as you sat yourself down on the ground next to Owen. "Right buddy? We're having a blast?"

Connor smiled at you affectionately. He couldn't deny that he was tired but he also had zero regrets. You were so good with Owen. The way you spoke to him. The way you naturally were so attuned to his needs. The way you understood his toddler language.

It took about another hour before Owen's energy began to wane. After a ten minute chase around the apartment, you had managed to wrangle Owen into his pajamas and Connor convinced him to brush his teeth.

Another twenty minutes later and Owen was passed out in bed and you and Connor collapsed on the couch.

"I'm not sure which was more exhausting," Connor joked. "Our twelve hour shift or this."

You teased, "Did a toddler outdo you?"

"Absolutely," Connor shook his head. "I was absolutely outdone by a toddler."

Laughing, you leaned against Connor who wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his chest.

"You're really good with him you know," Connor softly said.

You hummed, "You weren't so bad yourself."

"Maybe we should babysit more often," Connor added and you scoffed.

"I think we need a few weeks to recover before making any big decisions."

[hotheadedhero]

In Unrequited Love

Love and relationships can't be forced but sometimes they can be built on common ground and an understanding of one another's tribulations.

Part 2 here

Donatello x Reader

Having a crush on someone sucks. Having a crush on someone who has eyes for someone else sucks even more. This is the sad truth of your current circumstances. You knew that high school would come with its challenges but you weren’t prepared for the fact that you’d fall for the careless, hockey-loving maniac from your math class. It began with a casual friendship before feelings deepened on your end. Feelings that wouldn’t seem so terrible were it not for April O’Neil. You have absolutely nothing against the girl but it’s clear as day that she unfortunately has Casey’s heart in her stronghold. It’s not like you could even vent these frustrations, given that the only friends you have happen to be those two people. 

Then, through some shenanigans that seem like the norm for you now, you meet four turtle brothers - one of whom is in the same boat as you. Not to mention, between the very two friends in question. Were it not heartbreaking to witness each other trying your hardest to grab the attention of your crushes, you’d find some humour in this.

You tried hanging out with Raphael more in an attempt to get in close quarters with Casey, seeing as they’re practically tied at the hip, only for you to realise that the rough-and-tumble environment isn’t your strong suit. That’s when they both suggested you try your hand at assisting Donatello in his laboratory given your aptitude for the sciences. What they failed to realise is that you do well in class but that doesn’t inherently mean you enjoy it. Theoretical sciences and learning about how things work are interesting but there aren’t enough practical applications that allow you to engage in the school environment. The closest you’ve gotten to having fun was when you made “elephant toothpaste” for a chemistry lesson but that’s about it. 

Nonetheless, you see no harm in passing by the lab and giving the brainiac brothers a visit. Other than your not-so-subtle pining towards the other humans in the group, nothing has been outwardly mentioned about the situation you are both in. Neither of you has hung out enough to have that conversation. It wouldn’t be weird to talk about it, would it? A query that shall not yet receive an answer seeing as you’ve already knocked on the large, metal door. You walk through the open garage to see a couple of legs poking out from under the battle shell. 

“Huh? Oh! (Y/n), sorry- Ow!” He slides out from beneath the vehicle and rubs the fresh bruise forming on his head. “Sorry, I’m a little busy, right now. I think Leo is watching Space Heroes if you’re looking for someone to hang out with, though.”

“Actually, I came by to see if you needed any help,” you offer, holding your hands behind your back respectfully whilst also trying not to laugh. 

His eyes widen, having not expected such a proposal, and he’s quick to scramble to his feet.  “Oh, okay! Let’s see- uh… how are you with engine repairs?”

“Depends.” Your tongue clicks contemplatively. “Is it gas, electric, or hybrid?”

“That already tells me you know more than enough,” he chuckles. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He opens the hood of the van to reveal the ensemble of burnt-out parts and overworked mechanisms. The guys’ last mission must have been intense because this engine is almost in complete disarray. Were it not for the fact that your Uncle is a mechanic, you’d be sweating under the pressure of somehow ruining this heap of metal more than it already is. A probability still if you want to jinx your person but that’s getting ahead of yourself. 

Donatello gestures towards a box of spare parts and holds the back of his neck. “These just need to be taken out and replaced. It’s probably the easiest of what needs doing but I also need to finish rewiring the brakes, check the throttle calibration, replenish the weapons ammunition-”

“You need an extra set of hands to get it done quicker,” you cut him off with a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

He bares a gap-toothed smile in response and nods before resuming his initial position beneath the vehicle to finish the brake wiring. This leaves you to begin on your assigned job. For starters, you’re glad that this is a case of piecemeal repair rather than a complete engine rebuild. You’d be out of your depth were that the case. You start by pulling the entire engine out via a hoist, assisted by a load levelling bar so that it doesn’t tilt at a funny angle. Then, you secure it onto a stand and glance over what you’re working with. The crankshaft, piston ring compressor, oil filter, and fan need the most attention, so you start with those first. Just to save the disturbance, you look into a few tutorials on your phone to make sure you’re doing it correctly. 

During this entire time, the two of you work on separate parts of the battle shell in silence, seemingly content with your tasks. By now, Donnie has moved on to tightening the wheels’ lug holes. Admittedly, you had been concerned about a lack of things to talk about but this is a nice settlement. It’s certainly the most relaxed you’ve felt in a while; something to keep you distracted from the quelling of your hopeless romantic attraction. Plus, you have this sense of relief from finally being able to work on something with your hands rather than straining your brain over textbooks and pop quizzes.

"Question,” he starts abruptly, keeping his eyes on the centre cap of the wheel. “What’s it you like so much about that cave mouth?"

First, you blink quickly to yourself, having not expected to get into the nitty gritty of it so soon. So much for being distracted but you can’t be mad. Curiosity isn’t something to be berated. Then, you find yourself snickering at the mildly degrading nickname. The question may appear brash but he’s puzzled by why April seems to like Casey so much. Hearing it from you might give him the insight he needs to turn the odds in his favour. He’ll take anything at this point. 

"I dunno. There's just this air to him that I like. He's an ass, I am well aware of that, but he's fun, you know?” you admit awkwardly. “Psh! Don't ask me to explain it. You can't really put that stuff into words." You squint down at him, lips poised mockingly. "What is it you like about April so much?"

He halts his own task and glances down at his hands, cheeks reddening as he thinks about the girl of his dreams. "She just... had my heart from the first moment I saw her."

"Wow. The first girl you ever see in your life and it's just like that.” Yes, that bit of information is known thanks to our dear Raphael. “'Pretty shallow to fall in love with someone based on looks if you ask me." 

"You would know,” he scoffs sarcastically.

"Now you're calling Casey ugly?” you ask, both playful and moderately offended on your crush’s behalf. “Man, you really don't like him."

"I’m sure the same goes for you with April!"

"Hey! I don't stoop so low into my dissatisfaction of the circumstances to insult her." A wry grin then beckons your lips. "Although~"

"Whatever you think you're going to say, don't."

The staring match doesn't last long, breaking beneath a shared laugh; fond and unwilted by the ache in your hearts, which has been forgotten for a split moment to enjoy each other's company.

From that point on, that’s precisely what you did. More often than not, you found yourself in the confines of his garage, assisting him with the occasional doohickey and thingymabob. Even if there wasn’t much you could help with, you wound up being a decent lab partner in any case. In turn, he would offer to help you with your homework if you had any particularly difficult assignments. Your grades have never looked so good. When neither of you were doing that, you’d simply hang out and rant about little annoyances with your unreciprocated infatuations. 

“I mean, I try some jokes here and there but nothing seems to land,” he concedes begrudgingly, throwing his body weight into the back of his chair.

“Can I hear one?” you inquire as you gently swing around in your own seat. 

His lips press together and he mulls it over before sighing, “Okay, so, you remember how I told you about Metal Head?” You nod, to which he continues, “Well, the first time I took him out for a spin, we were on watch duty together. That’s when I asked her if she likes metal.”

He groans to himself as he replays the memory in his head, only now realising how corny that must have sounded at the time. However, you laugh and not the heckling kind either. Your head tilts back into your chair, knees lifting to compensate for the tension in your shaking stomach. How could April have not loved something as precious as that? The girl must be crazy because that would have worked on you in a heartbeat. 

“You should’ve asked if her favourite dance move is the robot,” you say in between laughs. “No, wait, wait! I got a better one! Ask her out to the circuits for a date!”

Donatello can only smile at your self-induced amusement, happy that there’s an appreciation for nerdy pickup lines and puns. They may not work on his crush - and his brothers sure don’t find them that funny - but he’s glad at least one person around here gets it. 

It felt good to know that you had a friend you could be closer to because of your mutual understanding. For the first time since you realised your feelings for your schoolmate, you didn’t feel so alone. This bond formed on cluttered affection may have seemed unlikely to begin with but who are you to complain now? You and Donnie have a good thing going given your positions. 

That is until your heart diverts its attention towards the very turtle. 

You came to the realisation when he expressed his excitement in showing you his newest invention. The fact that he had called upon you first made you feel special. It made you feel wanted and desired for the first time in your life. A seemingly small phenomenon given how he merely wanted to showcase something to you but the way it had tugged your heart was unparalleled to anything else you had ever experienced - and that smile. You could have happily fawned over that proud grin of proclaimed accomplishment and self-justified pride for the rest of that day. Then, it all came crashing down on you like heaps of scrap in a junkyard. You have fallen for someone who is in love with April. Again. Are you just doomed to fall for any man that crushes this girl? This must be some sick joke. One that you don’t find yourself laughing at. 

It eats away at you for the days - weeks - to come. You can’t console anyone on the matter, either. If any of his family catches wind, there’s a chance of him finding out. An outcome you wish to avoid if possible. As for Casey and April, dear lord you don’t even want to know what would happen if you told them. You’re at square one again just as before: crushing on someone who will never feel the same way about you. Rotting in a pool of your self-made disillusion.

Alone.

Having a crush on someone sucks.

[tevantarlos]

Feel free to ignore but I just have to get this out. I know this sounds mean but I´m happy that

a) Tim and Oliver lurk in fandom like no other and are seeing what people say about them and

b) Oliver had months of reprieve from the deranged people that make his following because they were turning all their guns on Lou. In fact he gained popularity because they convinced themselves (with his help, I add) that he is their champion and actually wants Buddie to happen. What does he think will happen now, when in a couple of weeks Buddie still has not happend? There is no Tommy standing in the way anymore and we will go right back to accusations of baiting and of people calling him fat and bald and almost too ugly for Eddie (yes, that happend). And when this happens and he has another whiny outburst on SM I will laugh until I fall over.

They droped the ball with every other LI before because they were to chicken shit to even try putting a stop to the endless harrassment. I think Megan West was the most egregious example of just leaving someone hanging and even encouraging the shit that went on online. They had a chance here, for the first time, to try to get out of this toxic Buddie brew they are in. If nothing else the way the relationship with Tommy was received, the way it garnered press by outlets other than glorified fan blogs like "Fangirlish" and gained them a new audience and the move to ABC all presented an opportunity to combat the toxicity by simply taking the fandom monopoly away from the crazies. But they just did not have the balls and now look at their pathetic attempts to make Brad happen on their IG. Engagement is low and what it there is the usual idiots screaming for Buddie and nothing else.

I hope it was worth it. I don´t see the show getting a 10th season, maybe not even a 9th. The spin off will be cheaper to produce, Peter talked about quitting before and the ratings trend downwards since S6. Not to mention the writing is absolute shit since Tim is back.

Maybe Oliver hopes that Callum Blue is the kind of guy that can get him a job after 911 gets canceled and is worth sucking up to. Last time I checked he couldn´t even get cast on a Hallmark movie so why not try, right? Buddie fans will not follow him either way, I hope he knows that.

Hey, hon. Thanks for the ask. Sorry I haven't posted this or replied before now. I haven't logged into my computer in a few days, have just been doing everything on my phone, and I didn't want to try to reply to this on my phone, that would takes ages.

I've been in the 911 fandom since two months after the last episode of season 1 aired. Oliver and 911 shot themselves in the foot by not shooting this Bvddie bullshit down from the very beginning. They've spent years leading Bvddie fans on, purposely having scenes with Buck and Eddie that cause the lunatics to see things that aren't there, because it gives the show more engagement.

Oliver and 911 know that Bvddie fans will never stop watching the show because they're so sure that at some point, 911 and Oliver will give in and make Bvddie canon because 'it's what they deserve'. At least, that's the bullshit I've read a lot of on Twitter and other places. What Bvddie fans don't understand, is they aren't owed shit.

I learned this the hard way when I was in the 100 fandom. I, and many other Bellarke fans thought that since we were loyal fans of the show, we'd be rewarded by getting Bellarke eventually. But just like Bvddie is never going to happen, Bellarke never happened. The writers and show runners had no interest in going there. They just liked to bait fans. Just like 911 does, with Buck and Eddie.

I personally feel like Oliver was relieved that all the hate was getting thrown at Lou and not himself, and he got a break from those assholes for a few months. But now that Lou and Tommy are gone, they're just going to go back to harassing him because Bvddie isn't canon and never will be, and those dumbasses can't cope.

Oliver knows that if he ever truly tells the Bvddie fans that it's never going to happen, he'll lose a large majority of his fan base. So, he just doesn't say anything. He encourages their twisted thinking and doesn't put them in their place when they're being assholes. Neither does Tim, so it's a monster of their own making. (The Bvddie fandom)

I can't speak on anything to do with the actresses of the other LI's. For many years since I started watching the show, I didn't interact with other fans much. The only time I did, was when I wrote fanfiction when I was a Bvddie shipper for 2 years, but after I found out what a bunch of toxic assholes they were, I ditched that fandom and am so glad I did.

Yeah, I check out the 911 IG page every few days because that's all I can stand. I can't look at it daily. All the Bvddie bullshit on every post claiming 'Bvddie canon, season 8!' It makes me roll my eyes so hard it hurts. Also, the way those idiots talk, like Buck and Tommy weren't in a relationship, like Buck is Eddie's one true love, and the other father of Chris.. God, I can't help but tell them how stupid they are for believing that. Especially since Ryan said in an interview that Chis has only one dad, and Buck sure as fuck ain't it.

The show will be lucky if it gets a season 9. This season is just not good, and I mean that honestly. Putting aside the BuckTommy of it all, it's crap. They focused too much on that Brad character which was a fucking waste of screen time. They traumatized Henren and their kids, had a plot that ended like within 5 minutes with Ortiz, had a decent start for Gerrard being a bad guy and dropped him for BRAD! Who the fuck cares about fucking Brad? No one.

When it comes to the IG posts, the first few days and maybe weeks after the BT breakup, both fans and GA made their feelings about the out of the blue breakup known, but after fighting the stupid Bvddie fans in the comments for a few days, most people backed off. I've gotten messages from people on IG who are BT and GA fans, who said that just like a lot of my comments on the IG page, their comments were removed for supporting BT, and for dishing out some of the bs that the Bvddie's have been doing for years.

Which once again shows that the people who man the 911 IG page, are catering to the most toxic assholes in the fandom. Every fucking post on the 911 IG has bullshit about Bvddie going canon, but people who talk about BT, or who even dare to criticize, in a nice way even, who criticize the plots being cut off, making no sense, the characters doing things that are out of character, they get deleted. But yet the lunatic's comments remain on the posts.

IF the show gets renewed for season 9, I'm betting it will be the last. This season so far has just been a shitshow. In terms of the writing for the show, and in terms of the Bvddie fans taking being complete assholes, to the highest degree imaginable.

I don't give a shit about Brad the character or his actor. I hate the character, he fucking annoys me. I didn't find any of this plot funny, just irritating and I want him gone. The mains were pushed to the background this season for Brad, some dumbass that's not some great character, but some idiot.

Also, Oliver is like a child. He only cares about praise and ass kissers. He says what will cause him to look good. I remember there was one time a few years ago, where he had some contact with a Bvddie fan and when the fan said that he was a dick for leading people on about Bvddie if it's not going to happen, he snapped back and said that he was just an actor doing this job and to stop being so mean to him.

In my opinion, he's a fucking moron who did it to himself. Him and Tim. As I said above, they could've gotten the assholes under control or even gotten rid of them from the start by being honest and just saying their stupid Bvddie is never going to happen. But no, they're too worried about ratings dropping, so they throw in Bvddie scenes every now and then to keep baiting those fans and they eat it all up.

Every time Buck and Eddie share a scene, those idiot's are all, "It's happening! Bvddie canon, y'all!" And then nothing ever happens, and those assholes get mad at being baited once again. It's been 7 1/2 seasons. If Bvddie were ever going to go canon, it would've happened by now.

[obxone]

Pogue Like Me (Part Four)

Edited-ish. ~5.4k words

Warning: NSFW (Do not engage if you are underage!)

Tag list: @gillybear17 @i-love-rafe @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @nomorespahgetti @lmg-stilinski24 @f4ll-for-you @user3737338292 @iheqrtaustin @jayblackpanther @calmoistorm @paintygirl @honeynicoole

Master Page

Rafe’s arm tightens around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. His face nuzzling into the back of your neck. “Not yet,” you groan, fingers lacing through the spaces of his against your stomach. “’ is too early.”

“Someone is at the door,” he mumbles against your skin. 

“No,” you groan loudly, tightening the comforter around you. “It’s too early.”

He cannot help but to smile before his lips brush across the top of your spine. “Stay here.”

“Mmhmm,” you hum in satisfaction. The weight of his arm and the warmth of his body disappears. You snuggle deeper into your bed and wait for him to return to you. His side of the bed is already growing cooler. 

His voice calling through the house breaks through your hazy sleep and desperate desire for his return. “It’s JJ!” 

Your eyes snap open, and dread fills you. What could he want this early, and how were you going to handle having the two in the same space? You slip out of bed and hurry to the front door while tugging Rafe’s t-shirt down. Rafe holds the front door partially closed behind him as he talks to the unexpected visitor. “She’s happy, and you can’t stand that she is without you, can you? She’s finally getting what she deserves.”

“Rafe?” You question, wiping sleep from your eyes and easing the door open. He huffs in annoyance that you had to get out of bed despite your earlier wishes. But he lets the door handle go, and you slip underneath his arm to see JJ. Anger burns in his eyes, and he glares at Rafe, his jaw clenched so hard you are sure his teeth would shatter. “JJ?”

His attention snaps to you, and he shakes his head. “Really?”

“What are you on about?” You ask, tugging Rafe’s arm from where it is blocking the door frame and you from fully stepping out of the house. Once you do, he braces it against your body, keeping you inside the house despite your attempt to prevent that. “It’s early, JJ. What do you want?”

“I came to apologize!” He states harshly. His face screws up with his next words. His words are sharp, and it wakes you faster than a cold shower. His anger for you is clear in his face and his tone. “But it doesn’t look like you need one. All cozied up with your kook boyfriend. Is he worth it? Is it worth throwing your friends away for just sex?”

You roll your eyes. “Hardly, and not that I owe you an explanation, but he stayed over to sleep since my parents are out. Kind of like my best friend used to.”

It is like a punch in the gut for JJ, and he looks away, his jaw flexing under the weight of your accusation. Your words are just as sharp as his. The tension thickens the air between you. You do not back down as he expects, and instead, you stand your ground because you have done nothing wrong. 

“Besides, he is my boyfriend, and he can sleep over if he wants to.”

“Sleep, right,” JJ snorts, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You look like you slept all right.”

His eyes travel over Rafe, who is standing shirtless in low-slung joggers, and you in only his shirt and your underwear. The picture paints itself, but the image is false, and you know it. But JJ is angry, and he will not believe you no matter what you say, especially after the past few arguments between yourself and the other pogues. 

“Not everything is about sex, Jay!” You snap at him. “Some people do not constantly think about getting their dick wet.”

He rolls his eyes before glaring at Rafe again. “Is that why you are dating her? An easy lay?”

It is a cold shock to your system, the implication behind his words. JJ does not realize what he has said, or he does not care that he has. But you do, and so does Rafe. He tenses beside you, his body stiffening, and his hand fists against the door frame. Your hand presses against his abs to stop him, and he looks at you. The warning is clear on his face that one more insult from JJ about you and Rafe will make him regret it. You shake your head once; this is not the time to start a fight. Not here, not in your yard with the neighbors to see. 

But JJ is true to himself and will not let it rest. “You’ve forgotten all the shit he has done then. All the bullshit he and his kook buddies have put us through over the years. Just like that because he fucks you?”

You roll your eyes this time. You would not take the bait even if Rafe does as he tenses again. “Whatever, JJ. This does not seem to be shaping up to be much of an apology.”

He laughs, rubbing his hand over his face. “It’s because you are choosing a miserable future with this kook, who we both know is a drug addict, instead of your friends. Is that what you want?! To be a kook princess whose boyfriend cares more about coke than her?!”

“JJ!” You glare at him now, but his words have dug too deep, and Rafe’s fist connects with JJ’s face sending him down the front steps and onto the lawn. You gasp, but Rafe is faster than you are ready for as he slips past you with ease and charges after JJ. “Rafe, no!” 

JJ launches at Rafe after scrambling to his feet. Rafe catches him by the back of his shirt as JJ attempts to tackle him. Rafe throws him backward again, but JJ does not stop and neither spare a glance at you as they fight. JJ’s fist connects with Rafe’s jaw, and Rafe lands a punch to JJ’s abdomen. A blur of fists and insults mixed with curse words that would make your elderly neighbor gasp in horror if she heard them. 

You hear Rafe insult his paternity and taunt him about a future in prison while grabbing the collar of his shirt. And JJ retaliates by insulting his need for Daddy’s approval and how you will one day realize that Rafe is just a coked out piece of shit. Rafe’s fist strikes JJ’s face, busting his lip. 

It is a stupid idea to get between two fighting men, but no one else is here to help, and you would rather not end up with someone dead on your lawn. And with the way they are tearing into each other, you know they are both out for blood. 

You tense, hands gripping the hem of Rafe’s shirt as you leave the house and step off the steps. Rafe’s arm rears back in preparation to deliver another harsh blow to JJ’s face, but you catch his forearm. Your grip is tight but not harsh as you attempt to pull him back. He turns, glaring down at you, but then his expression softens when he sees the worry on your face. 

“Fuck you, Rafe!” JJ shouts at him, and you nudge your way around Rafe, pressing your back to his chest, and you glare at someone you thought you knew so much better. But he does not wither under your heated gaze. Instead, he pants, balling his hands up into tight fists again. JJ would not hit you, you know that, but in his current state, you are not sure if he does. 

“Stop it!” You yell at JJ. “That is enough!” Your body is a shield between them to stop the fight, and you hope it is enough. No matter how angry Rafe is, you know that he would not purposefully hurt you. You hope the same goes for JJ. “Go home! Now!”

His hands curl into his chest, his eyes widening at your demands. “Me?!”

“Yes!” You glare at him. “Go!”

JJ shakes his head. “So much for being your best friend, huh?” He waves his hand at Rafe. “You start fucking this kook, and now we can’t be friends? I should have known that when you did get a boyfriend, you would throw us all away, especially if he is a kook. You’re a liar, y/n! A kook’s slut and a liar!”

You gasp, recoiling into Rafe, and he attempts to grab your hips to move you out of the way. But you stop him. Your hands tighten on his to keep his touch there but to keep him away from JJ at the same time. Anger and hurt explode wave after wave inside of you, and you worry you will be the one to hurt JJ now. After all, he had been the one to teach you how to defend yourself properly. He knew you could punch him square in the face if you wanted to, and you were beginning to want to after all the insults he had hurled at you. 

“JJ Maybank! How dare you?!”

He shakes his head, jaw clenching. 

“You are so worried about me screwing Rafe that you do not see how you are treating me!”

“How I’m treating you?!”

“Yes,” you breathe, trying to calm down. “You have called me so many names and insinuated disgusting things about me that no friend would ever dare to do. Much less a best friend for ten years. Go away, now. I don’t want to see you or talk to you again. Go, JJ. You are not welcome here.”

“Fine!” He snaps, taking a step back. “Fine. You’re a kook now, anyways. I should’ve known better,” he mutters with a shake of his head and storms off. 

Deflating a little, you turn to Rafe and look at his face for any serious injuries. He stares down at you, worry creasing his forehead because he can see how much JJ’s words have chipped away at you. His hand brushes through your hair, an unspoken calmness spreading between you.

The sound of JJ’s motorbike starting and then fading as he drives away tells you that the fight is truly over for now. Rafe’s grip tightens around you before you attempt to put space between you and get a better look at him.

“Are you okay?” You worry over him, the tip of your index finger brushing a drop of blood away from the corner of his mouth. 

“Are you?” He asks, his hand trailing down your back. 

“No,” you whisper, the hard façade crumbling in the wake of your adrenaline dissipating. Tears collect in your eyes, and a frown tugs your lips down in disappointment. You try to ignore the burn of tears, but Rafe collects you in his arms, cradling you against his solid frame. 

“I’m sorry he spoke to you like that.”

“Thank you,” you mumble before pecking his cheek. “Can we go inside? The neighbors are probably staring.… I’m already not decent enough without becoming a crying mess right now.”

Rafe attempts a smile, but it fails as he lets you go and grasps your hand guiding you back inside the house. “Come on.”

“We should get you cleaned up before we do anything else,” you whisper, gripping his hand tightly after securing the front door. You lead him back to your bedroom before you sit him on the foot of your bed. He watches you struggle with your emotions as you head for your bathroom. Ignoring his worried gaze, you dig around until you have rubbing alcohol, antiseptic wipes, and bandages. He looks up from his bloodied knuckles when you emerge. “I would say shirt off… but.”

“You’re wearing it,” he states. The outer corners of his eyes soften, and his fingers brush over the cotton material. “I prefer it this way.”

You blush a little and hook your finger under his chin, tipping his head back. He looks up at you with a grin when you nestle yourself between his legs. 

“Ready?”

He stays where he is like a good patient, and you get to work. He sits as still as he can for you as you wipe the few smears and drops of blood from his face and chest. The cuts sting, and his hands shaking hands tighten on your hips when you brush the pad soaked with alcohol across his lower lip. You are sure his knuckles and jaw would be bruised come nightfall.

“Why do you have this stuff?” He asks when you begin to work on his knuckles. The middle finger’s knuckle is split open. 

“Umm…” You toss around the answer before glancing at him. He waits for your explanation, and your cheeks warm before you focus back on your task. “In the past, when Luke Maybank was hard on JJ, he’d come here afterward, and I patched him up.”

Rafe frowns, not liking the idea of you doing this exact task for the pogue that had just torn you apart with his words.

“But I guess he has Kie now, and you have me,” you attempt to soothe the burn of JJ’s anger toward you. “What about you? Are you okay?” You ask, your tone as gentle as you can make it with all the worry flooding through you. 

He nods, his tongue probing the inside of his cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and clean up the mess you have made with antiseptic wipes and the bandages for his knuckles. 

“I’ll be fine.”

“I know,” you toss the trash and move back to him. Your body slots between his legs, and you trace your index finger on his lips. “I hate this.”

He hooks his arms around your hips to shuffle you closer. Your noses are nearly touching from how close together you are. “I know.”

“Rafe,” you whisper, skimming your fingers through his unusually messy hair. His mouth hovers near yours, and you smile a little before leaning in and pressing your lips to his. He kisses you back, his large hands trailing down your sides to tuck under your shirt. His palms warm against your skin. And you run your finger through his hair, deepening the kiss. “I’m really sorry he said those things about you and that you had to do something like this to defend yourself.”

“I punched him for you, Baby, not me. No one should ever talk to you like that.”

You frown, brushing your fingertips across his jaw. “The pogues will talk him down, hopefully. I will be fine eventually. Your knuckles are going to be sore, and your jaw too, probably.”

“Worth it,” he mutters with a shrug. “He does not know anything about our relationship. None of them do.”

“You’re right,” you admit before pecking his lips. “No one does but us.”

He smiles before catching your chin between his index finger and thumb. He tugs your lips down to him for more. You giggle, hooking your arms around his shoulders, and kiss him just like he wants. 

“I want to try something….” You mumble against his lips. He waits for you to tell him. His hands stroke up and down the back of your thighs. “I want to try third base…”

Rafe laughs lightly, and you blush, biting your lip. 

“Is that not, right?”

“No, it is,” he reassures you. “But I want to hear it.”

“Oh.”

“Tell me exactly what you want,” he murmurs, shifting in his seat. You watch him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I want to hear it come from your mouth, pretty girl.”

You exhale, tightening your hands around his shoulders. “I want you to make me feel good.”

“How?” He asks, his hand cupping the back of your neck. His thumb strokes back and forth over your flushed skin. His touch and words encourage you to ask for what you want, what you need. 

“I want you to…” Nerves threaten to swallow you whole, and you clear your throat. “I want you to touch me down there… with your mouth.”

Rafe’s eyebrows rise in surprise, and you flush hotter. 

You clear your throat, biting your lip before nails scratch at his shoulders. “I want to belong to you intimately. I want you to understand how I feel right now.”

He leans into you, his breath mixing with yours, and the desperation in you turns him on more than you will ever understand. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Not yet,” you giggle, fingers pressing to his lips. “Eventually… yes, but right now, just these,” you murmur, tracing his lips with the pad of your thumb. “And maybe your tongue if you want.”

“Oh, believe me, Baby, I want to. ”Rafe’s lips part, and your thumb slips into his mouth. Your breath hitches, and your body tingles at the feeling of his tongue working over your thumb. He smirks before his teeth graze over the pad of your thumb. “Are you sure?”

Your breathing increases before you nod eagerly. “I’m sure.”

His hands hook around your thighs, and he lifts you. You laugh when he turns and drops you into your bed. His body moves over yours, and his fingers snake under his t-shirt that you now know you will keep forever to tug on your underwear. His breath fans over your hip. “This okay?”

“Yes.” You give him your assurance, combing your fingers through his hair before cupping his face. A smile spreads over his lips, and he tugs your underwear down and discards them. You bite your lip and grasp the hem of his t-shirt before tugging it up and over your head. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, layering kisses across your lower stomach and hip. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Rafe,” you plead, spreading your legs for him. He dips his head to press his lips to your inner thigh. His blue eyes find yours, and your heart skips a beat. “Please.”

“You’re mine, Baby, all mine,” he mumbles before pressing a kiss to your lower lips. You gasp, your fingers slotting through his against your thigh. Your free hand nestles into his hair, urging him for more because you want that. You want so much more from him. You want to belong to him in ways you had only ever had the opportunity to think about. 

Your eyes flutter shut, and you moan loudly, surprising you both when he drags his tongue over you and flicks it against your clit. He smirks, proud of how eager you are to be taken care of before he repeats his actions. You shiver, pressing down onto his face. 

“That’s it, Baby,” he encourages as he snakes his free hand down between himself and the mattress. He begins to palm himself as he tastes you. Your moans and cries of pleasure tell him just how much you are enjoying his attention.  

Rafe finishes before you do, and he holds you down, continuing until you are pushing him away from oversensitivity. He nips at your hip bone, leaving a small red mark that will bruise to claim you before he moves up your body. His lean frame presses you deeper into your mattress, and he layers his claim of kisses against your neck and up to your mouth. 

You shiver, brushing the tip of your nose against his. You are still panting, your body thrumming with the aftershocks, and it feels so good. “If I had known that it could feel like this, I don’t think I would’ve waited this long,” you whisper with a laugh against his lips. 

He laughs before pecking your lips once more. “This is only the beginning, Baby.”

You bite your lip, glancing down at his soiled pants. “Did you…?”

“Yes,” he answers, tangling his hands in your hair, and he kisses you like you are his life source. “You are fucking perfect, pretty girl.”

You kiss him back, pulling him closer to you, feeling every inch of him on your skin. Your nails rake down his back, and he nestles against you, already hardening at the feel of your naked body caged under his. 

“We should get cleaned up and dressed soon….” Rafe mumbles against your temple. “I want to take you to brunch before you go to work.”

And it is the truth, he does, but he also knows if you stay naked and pressed to him that he will only grow harder in desperation for you. 

You blush, running your hand down the length of his muscled arm. His words declaration that you were all his echoes in your mind as a teasing smirk plays at your lips. “All yours, huh?”

Rafe has dropped you off at the Island Club for work after brunch with a promise to see you later. Another party is tonight, and he wants you there, so you have agreed to be his date again. This time no pogues are allowed, not even Sarah. 

“How many more days until summer is over?” Cass groans as she refills a water pitcher. The Island Club restaurant is hectic for a Saturday afternoon — many of the wealthy locals choose to golf and socialize while the tourists take over their beaches.

“38,” you answer, collecting orders to take out to waiting patrons. “I’m keeping count.”

She laughs, nudging your hip with hers before collecting her plate. “Mrs. Johnson seems extra moody today, Ralph. Please tell me this is cooked how she likes!”

Ralph laughs from behind the grill. “It is Cass, I promise.”

She winks at him before sashaying out, and you giggle, shaking your head at them. 

“What?” Ralph asks, leaning down to look at you through the gaps in the shelving. A knowing smirk is already on his face. “Not all of us can date the kook prince himself.”

You roll your eyes, lifting the serving tray up. “Don’t try to pin this one on me. You two have been doing this dance for months. I’m just ready for you to ask her out on a date. You and I both know she’ll say yes.”

He laughs, flipping over a burger before turning the radio up. 

“As I said,” you retort and turn on the ball of your foot to take out the orders. You smile at your table as you drop off the four plates before letting them know you will return in a few minutes to check on them. 

“Hey!” Lexi, the hostess, smiles at you as she passes by with Kiara and Sarah behind her. After the initial wave of surprises passes, you attempt a smile for them, but it is only half-hearted. “Right here, ladies.” She directs them to an empty table in your section. They sit, and she places the menus down before coming toward you. Without realizing it, your face is not encouraging because she immediately frowns. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You try to lie but fail. “I thought it was Elliot’s turn to be sat.”

“They requested you.”

You frown. “Great.”

“I thought you guys were friends…”

“We are,” you lie again, but better this time when you paste a bright smile on. “Thanks, I’ll take care of them.”

She bobs her head before going, only looking back once. You huff out a breath and dig out your notepad as you approach their table. 

“Good afternoon, ladies,” you put on your best customer service smile. “What can I get started for you to drink?”

“Lemonade, please,” Sarah smiles at you, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The awkward tension flows between all three of you. 

“I would like the same,” Kiara responds, glancing at the menu. You smile and turn to go to get their drinks. At least they would be kind and easy to please. You spot JJ as he rushes past the bar to go outside and work the deck area. He does not see you, and you feel relief, not ready to address this morning with him at all. His face is bruised, and he sports a busted lower lip as does Rafe. If you had to be honest, you would admit that JJ looks worse, but you also know that it is because of how he had spoken to you in front of Rafe. 

“What happened to him?” Cass asks once she notices you are looking at him. Her gaze fixated on the blond pogue. “He looks like he had the shit beat out of him again.”

You clear your throat, punching in the lemonade order, and go to prep it. She follows eyebrows raised in concern at your lack of response. You typically knew everything about JJ, and this is no different, even if it could be counted as your fault that he looks like he does. At least you are sure that is how the other pogues would see it. But you try to remind yourself it is not your fault. JJ had spoken horribly to you, and he had dug his own grave by doing so. 

“Was it Rafe?”

You nod, glancing at her before filling their cups with ice and then lemonade. Hot shame washes over you from her next words. 

“What the fuck happened?”

“JJ said some things. Very unkind things, and Rafe stood up for himself and for me.”

Cass whistles low. “This is really fucked up if you aren’t talking to your two best friends out there, and JJ looks like he does. What did he say?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She nods, crossing her arms over her waist. “I’ve got your back; you know that, right?”

You sag forward, hands bracing against the countertop. “Thanks, Cass.”

She frowns, her hand skimming up and down your back. “I’m sorry. If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut before exhaling. “I appreciate that, but I’m just ready to get them fed and gone.”

She nods. “If you need me to take them, let me know.”

“Thanks.” You smile at her and peck her cheek before hurrying out with the two glasses. After checking on your other tables, you place them down in front of each girl. “Are we ready to order?”

“Yes,” Sarah responds, closing her menu. “House salad with house dressing. I would like grilled chicken added.”

“Same,” Kiara agrees with a tight smile. 

You jot it down before smiling at them. “I will get these put in and have them out shortly.” 

You turn to leave, pausing in your steps, when you spot JJ moving through the tables. He stares at you, and you see Kiara shift out of your peripheral. His hands brush over his black polo shirt, and his tongue toys with his injured lip. It looks painful and probably should be iced, but you have to tell yourself that it is not your responsibility anymore before you let yourself suggest it. You turn away, extending your time back to the kitchen, but you do not want to talk to him right now, if ever. His words of full of venom are echoing in your head. 

“Y/n, wait.” Sarah starts to get up. Her hand reaches for you. You step back with a shake of your head, trying to ignore the threatening sting of tears. “Please!”

“No, Sarah. I’ve told you I want to talk alone or not at all.” You answer sharply, hating how you have to be with her because of JJ’s presence. “How many times do we have to do this before our friendship is ruined?”

“Hey!” Kelce’s arm drops over your shoulders as he announces his presence. “What do we have here?”

A sense of relief tugs at you from their appearance. These are Rafe’s friends, and they would protect you if Rafe had anything to say about it. Topper smirks from your other side. His gaze fixated on JJ, daring him to try something. 

“Stay out of this Topper,” Sarah snaps at him. The unspoken rocky history from their failed relationship flaring up. “This has nothing to do with you.”

Topper laughs, glancing at Kelce and then at you before turning back to Sarah. “But it does… you see, your brother, her boyfriend, asked us to keep an eye out for her because he knew you pogues would try to pull some shit like this.”

You swallow, leaning into Kelce’s side for a little support. Rafe knew them better than you thought. He pats your upper arm before looking at Sarah. 

“Y/n?” Kiara begs from the other side of the table. Her body shifts to be between the three of you and JJ. “Please talk to us.”

“I’ve tried,” you state, an unexpected boldness spreading its wings inside of you. You were in your place of work, and you had Rafe’s friends protecting your back. They could not bully you here. You would not let them. “I’ve tried, and you guys won’t listen to me. You all only want to be heard and not actually participate in discussing this.”

“Because it’s Rafe!” JJ glares at you.

Your jaw clenches, hands fisting at your side. “He isn’t the one that called me a slut this morning, JJ! Don’t try to be innocent now. You were an asshole to him and me!”

Sarah’s lips open in surprise, and Kiara’s head whips to the side to look at her boyfriend. He has not told them the full story. He likely left out his part in starting the fight in the first place. 

JJ nods, looking away; the tip of his tongue probes at his injured bottom lip.

“You called me a slut, a liar, and said I was a kook,” you state, the harsh bitterness in your words pushing into his chest. His hand lifts to rub the spot right above his heart. Kiara and Sarah stare at him in shock. “You said you should have known better, so now you do.” You turn your attention to the other two with a sad smile on your face. Kiara shifts uncomfortably, her fingers fidgeting with her bracelets, and your eyes shift to the teal and white one you had braided for her last year. You lift your gaze to her, your eyes watering and your voice shaking as you speak. “I wish I was surprised that you are taking his side without talking to me, but I’m not. Not with you because you got JJ at the end of the day, and that is all you seem to care about now.” Kiara opens her mouth to protest, but you lift your hand, stopping her in her tracks. You turn your attention to Sarah, tears welling over in your eyes. “But Sarah, you have surprised me. I thought we were closer than this. Before all of this started, you would have asked me and heard me out.” She attempts to take a step closer to you, but you shake your head. “It’s too late to undo this damage. I think it is best if we all go our separate ways. I no longer want to be friends with you guys. I don’t know you anymore,” you whisper, reaching up to wipe the tear that rolls down your cheek before you untie the same matching bracelet you had with Kiara, along with the ones you shared with Sarah and the ones you shared with all the pogues. “Cass will be your server for the rest of your time here today. Please let her know if you need anything, Ms. Cameron or Ms. Carrera.”

You drop them on the edge of the table and take a step back before turning. Kelce goes with you, glancing at Topper. Without a word, Topper understands and blocks them from coming after you. Kelce leads you back to the kitchen, where Cass is waiting. She has a sad look on her face because she has watched the whole thing. 

“We’re around for a few more hours if you need us,” Kelce murmurs, patting your back. “We have a card game with Judge Holden in a few minutes and golf after. Rafe will be here for golf.”

“Thanks, Kelc,” you mumble, wiping the tears and exhaling a breath. “I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” He pecks your cheek before leaving you in Cass’s capable hands. She hugs you, and you cling to her, trying not to fall apart now that you have officially lost your friends. 

“Take a break. Go sit in Raz’s office, and I’ll bring you some water in a minute, okay?” She cups your face with both hands. Her thumbs wipe the tears. “I’ll finish up your tables along with those two.”

“Thank you.”

She smiles weakly. “Want me to get Ralph to kick JJ’s ass?”

“No.” You laugh despite the tears and hug her again. She sways with you for a moment before releasing you towards Raz’s office. 

(Chapter Five)

Reblogs, likes, and comments are welcome and appreciated!

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

M4A1, G36, AK-12, UMP45, and SPAS-12 reacting to their S/O attempting to sneak up on them using experimental cloaking technology to give them a flower and kiss while they’re talking with the Commander (who is trying their absolute hardest to not give S/O away.)

(I think the cloak looks a lot like Halo’s Active Camouflage, with a faint distortion around the user’s outline.)

Whether they succeed or not is up to you.

(GFL) M4A1, G36, AK-12, UMP45, and SPAS-12's S/O trying to surprise kiss them

(That one deep AI voice from Crysis) "CLOAK ENGAGED."

M4 immediately notices something moving inside the room with her.

Her eyes lock onto...nothing?

No, the air itself seemed to be shimmering with some kind of energy, making M4 immediately adopt a combat stance.

Whatever it was, it was going to be crush-

(S/O's Voice) "M-M4! IT'S ME! S/O!"

(M4A1) "...What?!"

Suddenly, S/O blinked into reality, revealing themselves as they extended their arms in surrender.

(S/O) "S-Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you like that!"

(M4A1) "What on earth are you doing?!"

They walked up to her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

(S/O) "That!"

M4 crossed her arms, looking very unamused.

G36's sharp gaze notices something not visible was in the room with her.

With one fluid motion she immediately grabs a nearby pistol and is about to open fire before realizing who it was.

(G36) "...S/O, that is not funny to attempt. Especially on a military base."

S/O turned off their invisibility and sheepishly smiled once G36 lowered her weapon.

(S/O) "I-I thought I'd surprise you...!"

(G36) "Please surprise me in a way that will not result in you getting shot."

(S/O) "...Can I at least kiss you like I was planning to?"

(G36) "No."

12 doesn't seem to notice S/O as they're slowly approaching her side.

Until all of a sudden she turns around, eyes open and staring right at S/O.

While they're stunned, she quickly gives them a kiss on their lips before her pink irises are hidden once again, 12's signature smile coming back out.

(AK-12) "Not quite there yet, S/O, but good effort~."

Her eyes may be closed, but her electronic warfare systems are top of the line. She knew S/O was there the entire time, but she wanted to indulge them.

It's time for another T-DOLL FUN FACT! TDFF 7: UMP45 is better at hacking and Electronic Warfare than AK-12.

45 can't help but smirk, seeing the air waves slightly change around her.

(UMP45) "Gonna need a bit better tech for me to not notice that, S/O."

(S/O) "Oh come on!"

S/O quickly appeared in front of her pouting.

(S/O) "It's no fair that I can't sneak up on you!"

UMP45 cheekily gives them a kiss on the cheek, flicking their forehead.

(UMP45) "Sounds like that's not my problem.~"

(SPAS-12) "GAH!"

Spas immediately moves to punch the potential attacker, only for her first to collide surprisingly into the air, making her drop her meal.

All she knew was that something was moving in her motion trackers toward her. It then was quickly revealed who it was.

(S/O) "...O-OW..."

S/O laid sprawled out on the floor, rubbing their face.

(SPAS-12) "S/O?! What the heck are you doing being invisible like that?!"

She quickly rushes to help them, the attempt at a kiss resulting in a near kiss with death, considering that a combat android had just socked S/O in the face.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Nisha, did you know I would step on some legos barefooted for you? Anyways can’t wait to read for another fandom I have never stepped foot in and would probably never engage with the canon in just because you decided that’s what to make, and I’ve decided to read it anyways. Home cooked meal. -Rotten Anon

The opening line of this message made literal cartoon anime hearts appear above my head, just so you know <3

Also you have inspired me to post a rundown of my WIPs because I am really excited about what I have been working on. And for two of these fandoms, I know you have said you know nothing about the canon, but for the third, I am not sure, so we'll see.

My Current WIPs April/May 2024

Heaven's Gate (for The Walking Dead) - Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader. Strangers to Lovers/Soulmates/Lovers Reunited. Angst, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 1 to Season 5. 17k in counting (will be a oneshot). You can find a preview here. In this fic, you and Daryl get separated when the Governor attacks the prison, and though you both believe the other person is dead (or long gone) you find each other at the most unlikely time, in the most unlikely place.

I am super excited about this fic, and the themes of hope that I have woven into it. Because yes, I unironically love writing about hope and how the human spirit can persevere - which is something that my favourite moments in The Walking Dead show. This is first draft complete and just needs to be edited.

The Jaws of Life (for DC Titans) - Jason Todd x GN!Reader. Sequel to Emergency Contact. Lovers Reunited. Extreme Angst, Smut, Hurt and (some) Comfort. Set during Season 3. 21k in counting (will probably be a oneshot - if it needs to be split up, it will be put in two parts, but I hope I can get away with a oneshot). (I highly recommend that everyone go read the original in the meantime, because it is one of my best fics ever.) In this fic, you and Jason struggle with the new meaning of your relationship after what happened with Deathstroke - only for this tentative change to be harshly disrupted by the Joker. And you're still heavily mourning when a red hooded stranger breaks into your apartment one night, seeking medical care because apparently - you owe him one.

Everyone give Jaycen @nctzenkane a big fucking round of applause for this one, because he was randomly talking to me about Jason Todd today (we were having the 'some characters are only fuckable in costume' discussion) - and I got talking about how this version of Jason from Titans makes me so passionate to write about the character. And it is solely because of him that I opened up this fic and took a good look at it - I have been thinking about this fic for months, wanting to finish it because I know I am gonna be proud of it, but I kept hesitating because I thought I had a way bigger mountain to conquer with it. But the conversation I had with Jaycen really inspired me and I wrote 5k on the fic just today, and I realized that with this momentum, I could have the first draft done by the end of this month. So I am promising myself that this is gonna be done soon.

Speaking of which - when The Jaws of Life is first draft done, I wanna host a poll so you guys can decide which of those two ^^ fics goes through the editing process to be posted first. Both will be posted (hopefully) by the end of May, but I do wanna know which one you guys wanna see posted first. Which leads me to:

Nasty (for Stranger Things) - Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. 3k (this is gonna be a shorter fic lmao). In this fic, you and Eddie have been dating for a while, but you don't like that all of his attempts to have sex with you have him taking on a (seemingly fake) dom persona. When you finally tell him that you prefer to be more dominant in bed, he isn't disgusted like you thought he might be - he loves it.

This is one I have been sitting on for a while, and right before it was ready to be posted - my brain lost interest in it like tiktok does micro trends. But I think this is gonna be really great to post while the poll for those other fics is cooking because it's short and sweet and for the past few days, whenever I have seen the cover for this in my drafts, I have gotten excited about it again. So I am excited to finish it and show it off to everyone!!

[adaptacy]

A Found Flame {Pt.10}

Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader

(Previous Chapter) - (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)

Word Count: 2k

His hand squeezes shut, fingers curling into a firm fist, his eyes following the grooves of the large veins that trail beneath his skin. His elbow rests on his knee, and he finds it mildly surprising that his hand bears no trembles. He relaxes, and the veins fade into obscurity, easing beneath his skin. Again, he tenses, and before long, they appear again.

“Numb?” A man hums, and Gale looks up from the fallen log he sits on, immediately giving up his studies and shifting into a more normal position, his hands folded in front of him as he sits up, looking at the white-haired elf standing before him.

“Pardon?”

“You looked as though you expected it to fall off. Or perhaps sprout into a tentacle. I only ask because I figure I’d rather hear about any transformations before they take place and we’re forced to slaughter you,” he sighs, and then motions towards Gale’s hand. “So?”

“Fortunately, it would take approximately seven days for ceremorphosis to fully set in, so any unwanted evolutions are a few horizons away. Alas, I’m hardly comforted at our lack of immediate help, but…” Gale scoots back on the log, and then slightly to the left, in case Astarion had any intentions of sitting down, but he doesn’t seem to. “Still perfectly human.”

“Oh, how… pleasant. Though I’d argue the validity of a title such as ‘perfect’, I’ll save you the insult,” Astarion teases, and Gale puts up an awkward smile, not entirely sure how to take it in any way other than personally. “I’ll keep watch tonight. Decided I should let you know so you don’t risk stressing yourself out by staying up past your bedtime,” he chuckles. 

“That’s awfully altruistic of you. Much appreciated.”

“But of course – I’m nothing if not altruistic.” Astarion dips his head and wanders back over towards one of three bedrolls – two that they had scavenged, and one that Gale had conjured up – that he takes a seat on, warming his pale hands by the fire. Shadowheart rests on the opposite side, already attempting her hand at rest, which given the chaos of the day, Gale was sure would come easy to her. 

He wasn’t sure he’d be so lucky. Beyond the sudden shift of going from a bed that felt as if it was made to host royalty itself to the thin cloth of a bedroll on dirt, he found his thoughts far too active to make any attempt to quiet them. What a day it had been, indeed. 

He should’ve been in the company of a good book and the warm firelight of a room at a tavern. Curled up in a mildly comfortable bed, at least with a blanket over him, pillows beneath his head. Alas, he was instead in the company of two complete strangers, an illithid tadpole, and the stars. 

At least the stars were pleasant. 

Not to say the more lively company was unwanted; it had been quite a while since he’d truly engaged with people for more than just trade barters, and he’d gotten too comfortable with Tara and his apprentice. It was strange to suddenly be thrust into completely unfamiliar territory and reminded of such distant memories of socialization. In his defense, his traveling partners were also rather… strange. 

He was owed no right to their secrets, but even so, they were quite reserved. Shadowheart was quiet, but seemed a good decision maker, and plenty helpful between her original act of rescuing him, and patching him up both from the wound he’d inflicted on himself and patching both he and Astarion up after a run-in with quadrupedal brains with an intense thirst for violence. She clearly held back, though he’d gotten a glimpse of a slightly more talkative side of her whenever she’d made one or two quick, sarcastic quips targeted at the two men. 

Astarion was impossible to get a read on. He seemed entirely focused on his own survival, more akin to an unwilling child being dragged along with the two of them than a willing fellow adventurer. He also had an air of self-importance about him, and was far from afraid of hurting their feelings, as he loudly and confidently called out any of their mistakes, ensuring his opinion was understood by all. With what little Gale could collect from him, he saw a bit of himself in the elf – Gale found himself with a quiet doubt following each of Astarion’s words. If his own experiences had taught him anything, Gale figured the deflective, imposing nature of each of his comments was something of a defense mechanism. 

Or he could’ve been a snobby royal. Truly, Gale couldn’t figure that one out, and he understood asking such a forthright question would earn him nothing but a snarky, sarcastic remark of disbelief from Astarion, and even if he was a snobby royal, he’d likely never be granted any sort of confirmation. 

And Gale had bigger things to worry about. 

After tonight, he’d have six days. He’d start experiencing the symptoms tomorrow, should his studies prove true. But the symptoms weren’t his worst concern. 

However much he believed his comrades were keeping secrets from him, he knew he was no better. He had been entirely silent about the orb, and strangely enough, it too had been silent. Even when he’d cast spells he hadn’t cast in years past, when he channeled and called upon the weave, it granted him no reaction. Not a single beat, not a sudden spike in appetite, not an angry bellowing of disagreement, or the pain that he’d grown so accustomed to feeling each time he cast a spell. 

It was still. Gale believed it the status of a predator, lying in wait for an unsuspecting victim, still and silent enough to blend in perfectly with the surroundings, near invisible to the unquestioning eyes of its prey. 

The tadpole, on the other hand, had been quite active. Writhing and twisting everytime it feared Gale may forget his new occupant, though it was an impossible feat to say the least. He knew precisely what would happen if they failed to find a cure. His skin would not be the only thing to burst upon an unwarranted evolution – the orb would likely detonate along with the rest of his body, and he suspected even a tentacled face would not manage to survive such a blast. 

Neither would his surroundings. His companions may have been strangers at best, but he still wished them no harm, and they would not be the only ones to feel the orb’s wrath. Whatever communities they might stumble upon would quickly be wiped out, and innocent lives along with them. 

How long would it take for his only two friends to realize he was not returning to them? How long would it take for them to understand and accept that he was gone?

He’d promised them. Promised them he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Sworn to them that he would not die without a fair and certain farewell. Even if he did find someplace to die where it would not hurt those around him, he would never die satisfied. Not even in eternal rest would he find any semblance of peace.

He has not yet said goodbye. And so he cannot die. 

What a strange feeling, to yearn for survival. How unfamiliar it had grown for him. No more than two days ago, he’d been satisfied to embark north and accept death’s cold embrace. Just this morning he had attempted to plunge a dagger into the orb, albeit he’d hardly been pleased at the situation. 

But tonight, he had made a promise, and he had every intention to keep it. He had an obligation to keep it. 

And the orb was so dreadfully silent. He’d never known it to sleep before. Even if it was merely feigning absence, it was foreign to him. Without the insistent reminders, he felt himself again. For the first time in nearly two years, he felt like Gale Dekarios. He felt like Mystra’s chosen. He felt like his mother’s son. 

But he’d become the host for another insatiable, and rather annoying, to-be beast, which at this very moment was happy to squirm behind his eye, instilling an immediate reminder of his circumstance. 

What he’d give for a shot at normalcy again. For one more chance. A chance to obey. A chance to be satisfied with everything he’d been granted. A chance to maintain his sense of self. A chance to see his mother again without the guilt of his actions. A chance to be loved by Mystra, however restrained it might have felt. 

Gods, if he only knew what restraint truly was back then. He’d always yearned for so much more – never believing her fleeting affections to be enough. At least he’d had some of her affections. Now, he found himself completely lacking (and missing) such generous displays. 

He wonders whether he’d been satisfied if he understood what the possibilities were. If he’d known back then the true flavor of failure, the abyss of loneliness, the all-consuming blight of regret – had he settled for the love he had? Had he settled for the limits of his power, the limits of Mystra’s time, the limits of her saccharine intrigue? 

He could have been the Great Gale of Waterdeep. He could’ve been Mystra’s chosen. Why that wasn’t enough, he hardly understands. In comparison to the shell he is now, he had perfection. He had everything he should’ve wanted. 

If he’d succeeded – if he’d acquired, safely, this fragment of the far reaches of the weave, if he had knelt before her and presented it as a gift of the finest quality, if he had handed her the final piece of her puzzle, would she complete him in return? Would she affirm him as her best? Would she grant him a few extra moments of her time? A few extra glimpses of her love?

Or would she withdraw? Claim his gift, claim him, and return to the weave? 

Perhaps, in learning so much from her, so too did her ambition find its way into his motivations. Never before had he felt he truly satisfied her. Her praise was no less shallow than a puddle, and certainly no deeper. Any satisfaction he did manage to bestow upon her was entirely fleeting. 

At least she’d been convincing in his younger years. Her approval so graciously hummed into his ear at every successful spell, seeming to him as if he’d truly managed to impress his goddess. But her smiles seemed less earnest in time. He’d believed earning her love and lust was sure to be followed by only brighter horizons, yet her eyes seemed only to dim, her words grew just harsh enough to instill anxiety, fearful that he might risk her disapproval. 

To fail his goddess was to fail his talent. To think, he feared losing her so terribly that he managed to drive her further away than he ever could’ve imagined possible. 

Gale curls his hand into a fist once more, watching his veins contract. He is a mere mortal. To ever believe he would be more than a muse for the embodiment of his faith was unreasonable. For all the compliments targeted at his ambition, he found it no more than a haunting flaw. To manage ambition after one is stripped of potential is no trait to be envied, much rather one to be ashamed of. 

He relaxes, and stands, making his way over to the campfire and kneeling on the thin hide of his bedroll, watching the flames for a few seconds before lowering himself further, eventually coming to rest on his side. His eyes close, and he decides to lend sleep an opportunity. 

At least temporary peace is still, most assuredly, peace. 

And some is better than none.

[undertweaker]

I cannot stand the way that stand-up comedians have managed to convince themselves that they're public intellectuals in some way, like they're legitimate thought leaders. They will point and gesture and cry profound tears at George Carlin as the ultimate example of comedy being about being edgy and pushing boundaries and being controversial, but these podcasters don't tell any fucking jokes. They just talk at you, or invite some other oaf to talk at you and wax poetic and jerk off about how important they are. Should they actually make a joke, and it's not immediately met with the laughs these performers are owed, they immediately revert to some combination of the woke mob not being able to handle their cutting edge material and how comedians are just simple clowns that you should point and laugh at, it's just a joke, there's no need to think so deeply about a funny joke.

Like, it's so insane to me that Dave Chappelle can have an entire special where, over the course of that entire hour plus runtime, he will tell you like five jokes. The rest of that time will be a response to a response to his response to a response to his most recent controversy. The worst part is that Dave Chappelle is probably the best among this group! All five of those jokes will most likely be very funny, and when he's not rambling about things he doesn't know anything about, like trans people, he's actually a pretty engaging speaker. He's well-spoken, and can offer some interesting perspectives, only provided he feels the need to speak on something he knows literally anything about at all, and he doesn't have a fuckin' podcast.

The rest of them are usually so much worse, there is nothing I loathe more than the dipshit podcaster who views himself this way. Just, legitimately the dumbest person you can possibly imagine who views himself as a leader in free thought and intellectualism because they continuously platform incendiary conservative political guests. Donald Trump, Gavin McInnes, Candice Owens, Ben Shapiro, Jordan Peterson, just whatever series of horrible book-learned ghouls these people can invite to sap an audience from their platform. Can you imagine a world where Joe Rogan is a legitimate political force because thousands of people tune in to watch Jordan Peterson scratch the alphabet into the walls of his enclosure? Where a metrosexual homophobe can just, be racist on stage at a campaign event and call it a bit? One of these guys built a career off of talking to comedians, and the other built theirs off of being needlessly cruel in judging the comedy of others, but neither of them are funny. Joe Rogan doesn't tell any fucking jokes, Joe Rogan is funny in the way a child falling down is funny. He's silly, and you laugh at him because he's goofy and doesn't actually know any better, but he doesn't tell any jokes. Joe Rogan is the joke. Yet still, him and the other guy, and dozens of other middling and/or ageing comedian will consider themselves among the all time greats of comedy, declared only by themselves and their most frequent podcast guests, because they can score an endless stream of interviews with neo-nazis and fascists to come talk to them. They can smile and nod and clap their hands while they're informed, and their inflated audience of manosphere types and crypto geeks are informed, about the Great Replacement theory. Or maybe it's because they can talk at length about why they don't perform at college campuses anymore, or why trans people are annoying on the internet, or how you just aren't allowed to say anything anymore. But it's not because they tell any jokes.

I would legitimately watch Bert Kreischer's stool-humping/pant-shitting routine 30 times over any of these worthless hack comedians, because he's at least attempting to tell jokes. Comedians need to tell more fucking jokes.

[moltensmusings]

About to ramble for a bit about a different series I read a bit, fell off of, and recently fell back into:

Now from the title I know people are going to be giving it a sideways glance, far. I will warn that in the second chapter someone attempts to sa the female lead, nothing happens, and nothing like it happens again. But I do want the warning there in case someone is surprised by it.

But also it's so insanely good I need to talk about it. Long ramble under the cut:

So the story follows Reinhardt Lincke only child of a Marquess who loved her unconditionally. She's in a marriage of convince to her loathsome husband, the crown prince, who she'd been engaged to since they were kids.

However following him making decisions to please his mistress that cause a rebellion, he disobeys the order from his father the king to go and quell the people. Instead commanding Reinhardt's father in his place, her father going with the agreement that once things finish, the prince will ask for a divorce. Her father dies in the war and while sobbing over her fathera casket the prince asks for the divorce he promised.

For 15 years the female lead agonizes over the loss of her father and her anger at her ex-husband, vowing that if time were to rewind she would get revenge. So when time resets to the moment she heard the request for the divorce, while the prince tries to negotiate what she'll get, she simply does what anyone would do:

When asking for that doesn't work she takes the next best course of action:

Obviously she gets imprisoned and eventually banished to her mother's old territories after having her father's stripped from her. Something done with orders from the king because he's aware of what mess his son has brought.

To the north she goes where she meets with a much younger, much more unintimidating, future knight of her husband who was known as a mad dog. Limited on staff she decides to help him shape up into a more useful tool for her and her revenge. She's not a warrior herself, but she'll use every other warrior she can.

Now to note: the male lead is 16 when they meet, the female lead is 24. There's a lot of mugginess when it comes to romance. It's messy, questionable. And I'm about to get into spoilers but if you go into this, know no one in this comic is a good person. I do beg you to read it though because it's so very very good. You can read it officially on tappytoon.

More art:

So first, the female lead actively avoids a romantic relationship with him, most of their time is spent apart when he gets separated and sent to war for 3 years after a handful of months knowing her. But the male lead has an obsession with earning her love. He'll do anything for her and she needs that type of person following the death of one of the only people she had left.

The manga is dark. The romance isn't sweet or cute, the female lead only agrees to a romance because she feels like she messed up the male lead so badly that she owes it to him to give him love at first so that someone could love him. He doesn't tell her that, in fact he's fine how he is and simply is happy to exist the way he does, but she believes she's the reason he ended up how he did. The male lead views her like his goddess and he's willing to dive into the pits of hell and be utterly depraved, hurting himself if it means she would even deign to think of loving him.

She wants the head of her enemy, and he is willing to bring it to her.

And never once are we given a moment to want her to have mercy on the prince, but it also doesn't feel like it's forced. We feel sympathy for the Mistress, even if she's a terrible person we understand she's a victim who hurts others.

Now for current spoilers:

It's also revealed the male lead has gone back in time, he has memories of being used and abused by the Mistress of the prince who becomes his second wife. He loathes her and wants her dead so his interests align with the female lead. He even still manipulates her and pledges his loyalty to the royal family just to win back the body of fl's father.

He brings her the body of her ex-husband after he dies and goads her into mutilating the body because he came to love her after finding out how much brutality she could have in her.

And then immediately following this she sleeps with him for the first time while still covered in the blood of her ex-husband.

This series is dark, twisted. Everyone in it is some brand of horrible and we know that. But it never pretends it's anything different. From chapter 1, you are aware the female lead is willing to destroy.

[tousey-mousy]

Why do people on this website believe that forgiveness = "I don't have to worry about this anymore and it's all erased I did nothing wrong"????

Forgiveness = "I have chosen to no longer carry animosity towards you." That's literally all it means.

I wonder if it's because people talk about things like "debt forgiveness" (which is the process by which a debt is erased) and because children get taught to "forgive and forget" (which implies the two are synonyms, when in fact they are not but rather are two halves of an arguably-inappropriate approach to conflict resolution).

That's literally just not what forgiveness is lol. Forgiveness means to accept someone failed in some way, and to choose to no longer make them the target of your animosity for that thing they did. Why you did that is your choice, and may be personal, cultural, whatever. I believe I have a religious obligation to attempt to forgive those who accept they did a bad thing, and make reparations or an honest attempt at the best reparations they can manage (since not everything is reasonably reparable), and have not done it again, and promise not to do it again. Like, if you can manage all those, I believe it is my duty to begin the process of forgiving you. But, that's my thing.

What it doesn't mean is that you act like it never happened. It just also means you stop punishing them at some point. And, to be clear, if you say "yeah I can forgive you, but also that doesn't mean I'll ever let you back into my life and I'll permanently tell everyone I meet you're an abuser", to be very VERY clear: that is not forgiveness. Like, I really do want to stress you're not REQUIRED to forgive anyone for anything? But if you say that you DO forgive them, you're literally not allowed to keep punishing them, that is literally WHAT forgiveness means.

Anyway, Patricia's initial point was... nobody is required to grant YOU forgiveness. If you have harmed someone that deeply, simply put, you're never "entitled" to that kind of forgiveness from someone. They are entirely allowed to forever shut you out from their lives, to feel badly towards you, even to tell people "that person hurt me, I do not trust them". That's ultimately their choice and you don't really have a say in it.

But you have to forgive yourself. At some point... you need to start trying to move forwards. You need to stop saying "I'm evil forever", because if you say that then you'll give yourself permission to never improve. You'll ostracise yourself from social networks, which will keep you from finding people who can help you learn how to reform. You'll punish and potentially traumatise yourself into never learning how to engage with others, meaning that when you DO connect with someone else you don't know how to do it healthily. You'll wallow in self-pity and the people and systems you touch will become hurt by engaging with someone who won't stop self-flagellating.

At some point, your refusal to start trying to move forwards with your life and learn how to be a better person? Will pretty much inevitably CAUSE you to perpetuate more abuse.

It's not about how others owe you forgiveness, because they don't. Victims don't have to give you that: it's entirely in their gift. But you do have to give it to yourself, while still remembering that it happened and that you must - not should, but are required to - work on improving yourself so that it never happens again. You won't lock yourself away and punish yourself for eternity, but instead try to learn how to be better than you were.

And, your self-forgiveness STILL doesn't entitle you to forgiveness from your victims. Like, through it all, you're never actually entitled to anything. But maybe, when you have improved, your victims will feel that they are also able to move on. Or maybe they won't. That's their choice; you already made yours when you used it to hurt them. And... you're not gonna do that again.

the thing is, if your younger self was a bigot or an abuser, u can't make people forgive you. but you still gotta forgive yourself, like that's non-negotiable, dude. that happens before u can even ask the question of earning forgiveness from anyone lese

[morningstarlucemon]

Life Update

Going to give a short explanation for why i've been so silent. I don't want to focus on this. This is just for commissioners who've wondered where i was. I'll only go public with more detail if i'm forced to by people not respecting my wishes for it to be left alone. Ren broke up with me. I had to leave the trailer. We are still in contact and they are slowly repaying me for the trailer, but I am not receiving regular benefits nor having my needs paid for by them. No, i do not wish to discuss it in public. I also do not wish to engage in shit-talking them, as i do still care about them. They are attempting to fix what can be fixed. But i am not receiving the previously planned support from them. I was offered a space with one of my other partners' family. I am still out 2500 to our patrons for the trailer, as well as close to 500 to the partner who took me in. I no longer have my dog, my primary partner, my house, or my doctors. Our other roommate never paid their full share of the rent. And i can't even get away from it in my day-to-day because this has affected every aspect of my life. I can't go into a chat without being reminded of it just by nature of how long i've been gone. I can't bare how different everything right down to my social life is now.  I am still caring for my cats. I am still working through commissions. I am still planning on paying people back when/if i ever have enough money. If you wanna support that existence still, i'm still at Duo.Groff@gmail.com on paypal and i'm on Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/shinigamiofexcellence . Otherwise, don't worry about me.  No, i'm not okay, and i'm not going to be okay. No, i have no desire to talk about it or to be comforted. The only reason i'm making this post is because i feel you all are owed an explanation. I'm sorry all your support has been for nothing. I'll try to get everyone's coms back to them as soon as i can.

Posted using PostyBirb

[waxsuyaaa]

beware! large amounts of yapping ahead!

okay its time for me to complain about people because my journal isnt cutting it for my standards in actually wordvomiting everything before I sleep

yay so theres one girl in my class, all stories I could ever say always start with “so there is one person in my class” im not original and neither are they because theres like 10 different boys and they all look and sound the same to me I havent memorised their names after 2 years and 3 of them have the same last name

okay so theres this one girl in my class and y’know how theres always a duo in a trio and apparently im always the one leeching off of other peoples friendships because im always the new person at the school for whatever reason and im probably never going to have a genuine friend group because either i dont try enough or people in schools absolutely suck (im leaning towards the latter option because I dont wanna blame myself)

OKAY im the singular loner oh so sad person in the trio and the other 2 people have so much in common like hey theyre family friends and like the same music and talk about men all the time and never strike a conversation with me and im the person who they pair up with and talk to when theres a task which we are in groups of 3s

so a teacher brought in taylor swift merchandise and I saw one of those light up wristbands and apparently the other 2 ppl who I *think* im friends with also like taylor swift (more than me, because im a wretched fake fan or whatever) and one of them says if they can have the wristband because it was the only one from the eras tour the teacher had and then she offered to buy it off me for 20 bucks and hey you know where this is going

she hasnt paid me in the half a year since that and I keep reminding her and she keeps telling me to remind her and she keeps on going “im gonna pay you next week I promise” like shut up if you’re not gonna keep your promise just say it. if you dont have the money literally just say it and next time we walk to your house you could give the wristband back

but actually the audacity like last week for her to say “why am i even paying you for this its just a bracelet” when we already agreed on it and i may be extremely petty but she could have said its freaking worth is only 5 cents or whatever and then her attempt to GUILT TRIP ME because her allowance is only a dollar everytime she does a chore?? and the fact she said oh just ask [the other person in the friend group] to pay?? like hey hello what this is just between you and i

and the fact that the other person in the friend group stands up for her is just ouchh what yeah I know them two were besties since they were in the womb and maybe even in a past life they were actually intertwined plants or whatevr

and they talked right in front of me just back and forth “oh you dont have to pay her its not worth it” “real friends dont owe people things its just out of kindness” and im like HEY IM RIGHT HERE BEHIND YOU and the fact they kept checking behind them to see if I was eavesdropping which was so incredibly easy because they were literally talking so loud I swear my life is recorded or something and theyre speaking loudly so the viewer can be in on the drama

and maybe im making drama out of nothing but these two CALL ME BESTIE and every single time i call them out on a fault or something and im like thats not what you said earlier BECAUSE EITHER THEIR MEMORY IS WACK OR THEYRE LIARS theyre just like “oh we’re joking” like what the hell you cannot use jokes to get out of situations

even when im not having a good day and trying to not engage in conversatjon as often theyre always like “why did you talk like that” like huh I didnt know I wasnt allowed to stop smiling for a while

i mean theres more stuff and im still gonna say it ive asked her [the uhh first one] if im interesting or not and she replied yeah sure and when asked why she said oh you say animal facts sometimes like HEY IM AN ACTUAL PERSON and the most interesting thing about me is that I say animal facts sometimes like hey look at me im an encyclopedia its literally like when teachers call me “their little calculator” or whatever also EWW this is why I dont like pet names they suck

so am i overreacting?? yeah

should I be thrown against a wall? yeah

can i sleep? no thats why im writing this

[sacredencounters]

The Wrath of God

Do you fear God? When you pray, do you meet The Lord with the proper respect to which he is owed. I am observing Now a days it seems that everyone thinks he is their personal friend. They pray to him with no respect or regard to his Power and Kingdom. Its done in a fashion that people seem to brag about for instance, "I talk to God like this" then what follows is this ignorance as if they are talking to their friend from school/work or around the way. Where is the respect? Where is the approach of honor? The lack of respect for authority is alarming. There are many false prophets, preachers, pastors, bishops and others that are purposefully attempting to dismantle his authority to make it more acceptable for the masses, whereas the masses needs that FEAR OF GOD to discipline them. In the olden times there was a healthy fear of God that people respected. Now, people have turned away from authority. 

I blame the false leaders, the ill mannered parents and society as a whole for not upholding the values. I have been watching Sermon after Sermon and I see a common theme of disrespect. From the self proclaimed Apostle Gino, William Murphy, Mike Todd , Joyce Meyers, Joel Osteen to name a few. They preach the word as if they are walking on eggshells in front of their own congregation. Worried about public opinion and not delivering the fullness of the word. In addition to TD Jakes, I indeed believe that this man was called to the ministry at one point in time by God but through his greed and his sinful acts he has fallen into a pit that only repentance will save him. Yet, in his efforts to save his church he wont admit to any wrong doing but when you take a covenant with the occult, no longer are you fit to leads Gods People. 

Romans 16:18 reads 

For such people are not serving our Lord Christ, but their own appetites. By smooth talk and flattery they deceive the minds of naive people.

Serving their insatiable appetite for fame, money and love by the world. You can clearly see their values do not align with the Good book. Engaging in sin that defiles God and our temples [the body]. Conversing with other fellow Christians, there is this brainwashed response;

Matthew 7:1-2 reads 

“Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

Yet, I counter that with Ephesians 5:11 which reads,

Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.

Its not judgement, only God can do that. I am not here to Judge or condemn but I am here to shine light on darkness.  I can not sit here and watch the masses drink from your chalice expecting  Living Water but in fact your serving Infested Pond Water. A message with no concrete value that isn't supported by scripture and doctrine. Glorified Lukewarm Motivational Speakers with the audacity to say the God sent you to deliver that message. I rebuke you. 

These people you call "leaders" have conformed to the World and do not stand apart as Gods appointed. Why is that do you wonder? Did it ever cross your mind? Did it feel odd? To witness your preacher engaging in World Music, Worldly activities, Worldly social gathers, Worldly speech? There has to be a moment you see the forest from the trees. We need to wake up before they lead you into the Lake of fire. 

Romans 12:2 reads 

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.

We are not meant to operate as the World does. That is not true Christianity, God did not instruct us to work this way. Yet we have pastors/bishops and other leaders of the church at Beyonce concerts and playing worldly music inside of the churches to appeal more to a younger crowd. Is this for profit ? Its certainly not for God!

I encourage you to think about your church ? Think of its foundation. Does it truly align with the word of God, the acts of God? and morals of God?. If it doesn’t then you need to Run! Before you follow any man who is flawed you first make sure that he is in proper posture to lead you to God. 

Through my research and connection with God I realized I had a Sacred Encounter.