#of just all possibilities these two characters could come into

[mouchiiarts]

1. My first ever oc was a character named Khaos. He was originally a human who was experimented on and turned into a chimera by a facility who had been advertising themselves as a medical institution who could heal miraculously disabled children/people. Khaos ran away with another girl, who'd been turned into a half snow leopard anthro and eventually they found a portal to another dimension and escaped there. Oh btw he was basically a humanoid Discord from MLP.

2. If I had to choose, it would probably be either Gaelför or Akina. They're my favorites not because of their designs, but also because of their stories.

3. Nope. I'd love to, but the ones I come across typically are outside of my budget.

4. Probably some of my older oc's! Like Angela or my Suitor Armor oc's.

5. Gaelför and Fukukochoumi Akina! Out of all of my oc's, these two are my favorites.

6. I think for the most part my oc's are decently distinct in their appearances from one another. But I can see Nunah and Angela possibly being confused for siblings or something similar?

7. Yes! Gaelför, Kirsi, and other oc's are a part of a story I'm calling "Black Snow." I plan to turn it into a webcomic, and I'm currently working on the script and official character sheets for the most important characters. Anything about them is under the "black snow" tag on my tumblr.

8. Nope. I don't RP.

9. I don't think so. All of my oc's are very near and dear to me, I couldn't possibly part with them!

10. This is just her concept art. Her final design will definitely be more complex.

11. Tia! She's my baby and I absolutely love her I don't draw her enough.

12. Lukas! He's an absolute sweetheart and he's super curious about earth and everything about it!

13. Kiora! She's a chaotic neutral tiefling bard, so she's bound to be mischievous to some degree.

14. Gaelför again lol. Although I won't reveal everything bc I want to keep some things a suprise for the comic, I'll reveal a few things. His tribe were betrayed by a village of humans, which led to the death of his parents and planted the seed of his hatred for humans.

15. Yes!

16. Mm... Probably Mitsuha? She's quite shy and nervous around people, but she has an excellent memory and loves to learn new things.

17. (I'm including some oc x canon) Chisuke x Keigo Takami, Fukukochoumi Akina x Thoma, Gaelfor x Kirsi, Tia x Fenrir, Adria x Iida, and likely more.

18. Nope!

19. Gosh, all of my oc's mean something to me. But Akina probably means the most. She's one of the oldest oc's I still have (in terms of how intact she is with her original self). Her journey of self acceptance and owning her own femininity and becoming more confident in herself after she's found friends/a place to call home means a lot to me.

20. None of my oc's really sing aside from Akina? I don't have a voice actress in mind, but she'd definitely have a very beautiful singing voice that's very strong and melidoc.

21. I don't have one!

22. Not really? I know some of my oc's will eventually get mischaracterized, but none at the moment.

23. Akina! Originally, she was a calico cat girl maneki neko, although she did sell enchanted charms and trinkets like her modern counterpart!

24. Definitely Tia! She's an absolute sweetheart and I would love to have tea with her in her cottage.

25. ... Kirsi. She's about my height (a little taller) and has short hair like me. It's not as curly as mine though! And my hair isn't white lol

26. Nope. Any and all changes I've done to my oc's have been of my own choice or for the betterment of their story.

27. Nope.

28. Chisuke or Gaelför. Chisuke because of her incredibly dangerous blood quirk, quick reflexes, and ruthlessness. Gaelför because of his strength combined with his firescales.

29. None of them would lol. Either they're too scared to, or they just don't want to.

30. Igni (Gaelför and Kirsi's adopted eldest daughter). She acts all tough and abrasive, but she would 1000% have a huge hoard of plushies

31. Tia would have a very soft cottage core theme blog. Lots of recipes, plants, and lots of nature photos. She'd probably have like a Howl's Moving Castle gifset reblogged every couple days too.

32. Gaelfor! Gaelfor 100%! Especially early chapters Gaelfor! He's a 7'9" Ddraikin who can heat up his scales to incredibly hot temperatures. Once he figures out how, he can be an incredibly ruthless hunter, who's good at tracking scents, combat, and other skills.

33. Mitsuha! She's a maneki neko yokai who's super shy, but once you get to know her, she'll be one of your closest friends.

34. Yep! Sïndri and Nyx are Gaelför and Kirsi's twin boys! I haven't drawn them yet!

35. Fenrir and Callum are brothers. Gaelför also has a sister named Ylva. Akina has her younger brother, Haitao, and her younger sister, Iyla.

36. Not yet. I have an Avatar (2009) oc I'm hoping to pair with a mutual's oc! But she hasn't had the chance to design him yet.

37. Lukas. He's a tall, lanky alien boy for a sci-fi alien story I had in mind. He's a part of a species which is mostly humanoid, but they're built for their mostly aquatic nocturnal planet.

38. Akina! She's literally a performer and her dance is used as an opening show for a specific autumn festival in Inazuma!

39. I unfortunately cannot remember his name at the moment, but he's a human who's super into the supernatural and aliens. He's Lukas' best friend and is the only human who knows Lukas is a shapeshifting alien.

40. All of them have fond memories, really! Just drawing them is enough fun for me.

41. Yes! Quite a few people have! A mutual @roxxiespirt has drawn this of my MHA oc Iron Eagle in my Mama Bird au!

42. Probably Carmen. She's a total bookworm (she's also from the unnamed alien story)

43. ... body type can kinda vary but... skinny women with a pixie cut/short hair. They are also kinda standoffish or a more tsundere archetype. I don't know why. But this has happened multiple times. Chisuke (MHA), Angela Lumonte (Spy X Family), Andromeda (BG3), Nunah (Suitor Armor), etc. I uh. Have a type I enjoy drawing apparantly.

44. I like that, to some degree, they all have one or more trait of myself. Some of them are nervous as well as confident, some show they're capable of change, and others don't. Plus their designs are all super fun to draw,

45. I have.. so many. There are so so many characters from older/abandoned stories that I no longer use. But in an older version of Black Snow (originally titled Silver Rings and Potion Bottles) Kirsi (then Kiki) had a sister,, which turned into a lot of different sisters. There was also Oliver, who was a redesigned version of Khaos to fit into the SRaPB universe. He was one of Kiki's witch friends!

46. ... yeah. I kinda enjoy traumatizing my friends with the lore I create for my oc's so I've definitely been told I'm being mean to them.

47. Sorta? They say (insert oc name) is baby but not specifically their baby if you know what I mean.

48. Fynn! He's the golden sunshine dead husband of Nunah! He was a really kind herbalist Nunah absolutely fell in love with when they first met as teens. He's... unfortunately dead. But he's a sweet lad.

49. Lukas. Or Carmen.

50. Gaelför belongs to a species/race from my original story Black Snow! They're native to the continent of Gal'ruk, and tend to stick to the northern parts of the continent, on the other side of a wall of active volcanoes called the Ignimurus! When he was about 10, he snuck away from his tribe to go and fight off the group of Seekers (Ddraikin hunters/collectors) who were camping close to them. He was quickly overpowered by the hunters, and was taken away from his tribe. He was then enslaved as an Executioner in the human city of Cal'deur for 14 years. He only managed to escape the city because of a chance escape he made one day while in the ring with a magi prisoner he was supposed to kill (Kirsi). He's not exactly what I would call a good person towards the beginning of his story. He's cruel, unkind, and only thinks for himself. It isn't until he makes a deal with Kirsi to help him get home, along with some other misadventures along the way, does he actually begin to grow and change for the better!

Some OC questions

[jinxyjinxer]

˗ˏˋ NEEDY ˎˊ˗ being his needy little thing

⟢ characters : Silco

⟢ warnings : fem!reader, degrading, toy-ification, implied dumbification, implied oral, implied cum swallowing, age gap, implied backshots

"Go on. If you want something from me then beg for it. Voice how much you need my cock in your tight little pussy, fucking you dumb on my desk. Tell me just how good I make you feel when I fuck you dumb and senseless like the cocksleeve you are, my little doll", Silco cooed, hand gripping onto your drool smeared chin.

Your eyes were watery from how deep he forced you to take his shaft, having used his hand to fuck himself into your mouth previously until he came, hot liquid shooting down your throat and making you choke more than you already did before when he hammered into you in a relentless pace, not giving you any mercy, not even when you gagged from how deep he reached.

"Please Silco", you began, sitting more upright and using his thighs for leverage, looking him deep into his eyes.

"Want you- no, need you so bad. Need your dick in me please. Need to come so bad", you voiced your desires but Silco wasn't satisfied yet.

He knew you could do better and he didn't refrain from telling you so, eliciting a frustrated mix of a groan and moan from you.

"Please, please, please Silco. I've been a good girl. I took you so well and even swallowed it all, see!", you replied with a whiny voice, opening your mouth wide for him to show him that no remains of his cum were left in your throat.

"Please, been so good for you. Want nothing more than be your dumb little cocksleeve, please!"

He loved this game.

It's like a cat taunting it's prey, letting it go from time to time just to catch it again, giving it the illusion of being free only to get caged again. In his eyes you were nothing more than a young and naive girl that was half his age, not knowing anything about life and how society works, making you even more manipulatable than you already were. You practically ate out of his hand, believing every word he said like he was a saint, doing anything for him whenever he wanted like the good girl you were.

Oh he loved it, how eager you always were to please him in whatever way he wanted you to, letting him fuck you dumb on his cock almost every day since you came to him, begging him for protection from the man thirsting after your life.

"Stand up and bend over", were all the words it took from Silco for from to finally shut your needy mouth.

Without hesitating even a singular moment you got up from your position on the hardwood floor between his wide spread legs, bending over the massive mahogany desk, your eyes closed shut in anticipation of what was to come. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard the familiar noise of his belt buckle hitting the wooden floor, his hands coming up to roam over the curve of your ass, removing any possible garments you were wearing from your lower half until you finally were fully exposed to him. Two of his fingers came down and spread apart your lips, showing him your glistening hole, already red, swollen and dripping from how turned on you were.

He toyed with you for a bit, fingers stroking your entrance and gathering your slick only to then find your clit and rub it vigorously, making your legs shake from pleasure. If you already were so responsive to simply having your clit rubbed, how would you react to his dick drilling inside of you and getting your guts rearranged?

But you didn't need to wait long for an answer, for he had already removed his fingers from your cunt and replaced them with his cock, coating his tip in your slick before slamming into your tight pussy all at once until the hilt, hitting your cervix at full force and making you moan out loud.

Normally Silco would tell you to shut up or simply put his hand around your neck to choke the words out of you, but today he wanted nothing more than to hear your whiny and needy voice echo in his office.

Needless to say, everyone on the floor could hear you begging and moaning for Silco.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Ah! Can we keep going for the first times for rottmnt?? I'd love to see Raphael!! And Mikey! If that's not to much trouble ❤️🧡

First Time Headcanons (18+)

Rise!Raphael x reader

A/N: Of course we can. Let’s continue with Raph for now❤️ Hope you’ll enjoy❤️

All characters are aged up.

Warning: Light description of sex, light descriptions of fears surrounding sex.

You and Raph’s first time was planned, after having been in a relationship for some time. There was no way in hell Raph would put you in a position, where he might accidently hurt you, without preparing both himself and you for what was potentially to come.

Though Raph had desired for your relationship to go further for quite some time, he had always held back. He was scared that with his size and strength, he could possibly gravely injure you, which is something he would never be able to live with himself with if he did.

So after having talked it through over several different occasions, going over every single possible scenery of chaos Raph could think of, Raph finally felt comfortable enough to finally set actual plans for your first time.

You decided to do it in Raph’s room, so in case of an emergency, it would be easy to get quick medical help, meaning that at least Donnie had to be home in the lair. Not that you told him anything about what was going to happen behind Raph’s closed door. He would just have to be startled and traumatised if needed.

When it finally came to your first time, Raph was as nervous as could be, shaking and unsure that what he was doing was alright. Therefore you very calmly took control, controlling the foreplay in a slow and controlled manner, so that Raph could feel a little safer. After all, if you were the one in control, that obviously meant that you weren’t hurt and wanted more of it, right?

It was slow and sensual to begin with, with Raph almost too scared that his hands would crush you when holding you close on his lap, waiting for your guidance. It also became quite clear that Raph feared that he would lose control while mounting you, which led you to make a decisive decision, meaning that the first time Raph actually penetrated you was while you were riding him in his own bed. This too was slow and sensual, with Raph finally allowing himself to hold onto you more firmly.

Raph slowly grew more and more comfortable, and soon he was the one lowering and raising you on his lap. And as the two of you got further and further lost in the pleasure, moans and heavy breaths, Raph grew more intense and passionate. And just before you were able to reach your first orgasm with Raph, he had flipped you onto your back, hinting about things to come for the rest of the evening.

[twst-hottest-takes]

Hmm, my twst hot take, that fits well with the current confusions regarding the dreams I think, is that twst characters are often very wrong about themselves and each other.

Just take Leona for example!! Lilia and Leona himself think that he'll be an awful King. But both Ruggie and Jack think he'd be a good leader and Ruggie in particular thinks he'll be the more favored prince in his dream. Dream Ruggie didn't know Leona, so Leona having a better position didn't do shit for him. But his dream still made Leona a good prince.

Leona and Idia accuse Cater and Trey of using Riddle as a figurehead but everyone that's read book 1 or even better, the manga, know that Riddle was always the one incharge, with the other two trying to minimize the damage.

Deuce's dream portrays that he wants to live in a might makes right world but every other Deuce event has proven this wrong!!! He wants to go into law inforcement to make his mom proud.

Hell even back in Book 3 it was clear that you can't even trust overblot memories coz Azul was so convinced that the Twins were gonna leave him (the animated video literally has it as the last step that caused his overblot) but in game the Twins were just worried about him and trying to stop him from using him UM.

Basically twst is filled with contradictory information about characters because these boys neither like nor trust each other and you can't believe shit about dreams or opinions (because even Rooks big choice is then made into a regret in Book 7 in think)

This is a good contribution to this conversation.

There's a possibility that a lot of the dreams are influenced by Malleus' perception of what he thinks the others want as well. For example he might know that Leona wants to be king, so that's the dream he gives to him. But Leona has the ultimate say in what happens in his dream so his underlying insecurities and self perception turn that dream into more or less a nightmare because he fears being unworthy (or so I am now under the impression of).

I could just be blowing fluff, but I do think you're onto something here, Anon. I would really like part of what brings Malleus back from the edge to be him realizing that people's deepest desires don't always equate to happiness and if the others manage to find the value of themselves in that as well that's a bonus! We're still just speculating, but if any of this comes to fruition we might not be wasting as much time with all these dreams as I've thought.

Thank you for your take!

[motthe]

Congratulations on reaching 2k! Every bit deserved your writing and characterization is always so amazing 🫶🏼

For the event, Could I request a Drabble of rivals/ crushes snowed in with Ekko with a she/her reader? (Possible accidental confession perhaps?)

I need more ekko content in my life 🥹 Ekko presents tough but he’s such a sweet lover boy!

Thank you for this event! And thank you for blessing us with your writing 💖

tysm!! i’m always so happy to hear the characters sound like themselves 😭 i hope you enjoy the drabble!

warnings: spoilers for s2 despite this being a modern au, grieving, mentions of jayvik, fem!reader

Professor Heimerdinger had been a phenomenal professor. You were thankful to have made it in to every one of his lectures in your college career. He had always been a spontaneous character, treating his students like family.

After his funeral, you weren’t too surprised when Ekko appeared. You both had been gunning for the top grades in classes, the most genius designs, the greater anything. He was a worthy opponent, taking his defeats in a respectable manner. When he won, you’d have to suffer one of those insufferable smirks and a tick of his eyebrow but you had come to enjoy them.

You’re not sure when the jealousy of his mind had turned to attraction.

He was well dressed for the ceremony, all suit and tie and raw eyes. You wanted to hold him, but you settled for a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Left a letter to us,” he said, holding up an envelope.

“Heimerdinger did love dramatics,” you joked, stepping closer as paper unfolded. For this you let your head fall to his shoulder, feeling as much as ewing the shake in his hands. You helped steady it.

“Can you…”

“Of course,” you whispered, clearing your throat and reading it aloud. You were teary-eyed by the second sentence.

The letter detailed how proud he was of you and Ekko and that he was sorry to leave the world before he saw both of you graduate. He’d never married or had a family, but he considered the two of you his own. He also asked if one of you would care for his cat, Poro, until a proper home was found.

“I’ve been taking care of him,” Ekko said. “I don’t have the room in my apartment so I’ve been spending time at Heimerdinger’s place. Helped Jayce and Viktor clean some stuff out.”

Another generation of assistants and protégés. They were married, too.

“Could you take him for a bit? He’s a good cat,” Ekko promised.

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll go grab him now.”

“I’ll go with you. I have some stuff I need to grab.”

That was exactly how you ended up snowed in at Heimerdinger’s residence with your rival and crush, Ekko, and Poro the cat skirting your feet.

“This feels like one of his schemes,” you chuckled as Ekko got the fireplace in the living room going. “Remember when he locked us in the lab until we stopped fighting?”

“He forgot about us until the next morning,” Ekko finished, smiling over his shoulder.

You giggled, reaching down to pull the cat into your arms. “I can still feel the crick in my neck from falling asleep at the desk.”

“It worked, though.” Ekko settled back on the carpet as the fire roared to life. “We got along a bit better after that.”

“We respected each other,” you chuckled. “I had to after you picked the lock.”

He shrugged. “I’m a man of many talents.”

Sitting down beside him, you both basked in the warm glow, shoulder to shoulder. The sound of the wind outside alongside the crackling wood calmed the nerves of being so close to him, well almost.

“He’s well behaved around girls,” Ekko said, looking to Poro in your lap. The car purred, raising his head as a strong hand ran over his back. “He hates Viktor. I think Heimerdinger mentioned something about a laser?”

“Like a toy laser?”

Ekko shrugged. “Either way he’s a lot more careful around guys, but he’s warmed up to me over the years.”

Yeah, you thought, who wouldn’t?

“I’d like to keep him,” you murmured, scratching under his whiskers. “Just have to figure some things out first. I’ll manage it.”

“I can help,” Ekko offered.

You shook your head. “You’ve already done so much. Let me.”

“I love the little troublemaker too.”

“Then you can visit him.”

“Yeah?” His eyes glinted as he looked at you.

“Yeah,” you agreed, heart thundering. His shoulder nudged yours, sending sparks down your shoulder and into your stomach.

“Only him?”

Your breath caught. For being the top of your class, you sure went brain dead by a simple question.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking away. “I just…”

“No,” you said, “I mean, yes you can visit. Not just for the cat. Don’t apologize.”

“If you were uncomfortable—”

You shook your head, grabbing his arm. “I’m not. Just nervous, surprised…”

“Surprised?” he huffed, the start of a smile on his lips.

“What? I don’t know,” you scrambled, feeling too hot. Poro stretched before walking away, leaving you to die of your embarrassment.

“I’ve been crushing on you for a while,” he chuckled, “I thought you noticed.”

“I’m a genius in school, Ekko, not,” you gestured haphazardly between you, “this.”

He busted out laughing. You tumbled into it with him, the sound far too contagious.

“First the lab, now his house,” Ekko sighed later on, the two of you leaning against one another on the couch. “This does feel like Heimerdinger’s doing.”

It did. One day you’d have to thank him for bringing you together.

[bwat5-blog]

Caitlyn and Violet: Hope

Spoilers For All of Arcane

So, I must apologize. I know some of you were probably hoping for my usual encyclopedic breakdown of the events that make up the story of these two remarkable women. And truth be told, I have started and stopped attempts at that very thing many times, trying to express why their story means so much to me, and my thoughts on why it will continue to mean so much to so many, as time passes...

If that highly detailed point-by-point is more your speed, I have done so for the both of them across various posts and appreciate that you would read any of this to begin with. But, what I would like to discuss in this, why I think they have come to really stick with me, is hope.

An angry orphan from Zaun, a naïve heiress from Piltover, their story is of worlds colliding. This is not a new idea, "Star Crossed Lovers", "Opposite Sides Of The Tracks"... there are countless examples. The thing that makes Arcane, and by extension these characters so wonderful, is that the characters are so... so much more than that. And they can mean so much more than that to each other.

That angry orphan contains a heart wounded beyond imagining, yet strong as steel. That naïve heiress contains the strength to both forgive those who have terribly wronged her, and to stand in the breach against death itself alongside those who follow her.

It is their journey to find and understand the worth of these hidden depths that make them who they are, both through their own strength and through the bond they form with one another. Vi's life, is to put it bluntly, over before Caitlyn meets her. Seven years in a brutal, abusive prison, not on record, with no indication Marcus ever would have freed her. Her entire life is spent fighting for survival, and dwelling on all that she has lost, until an enforcer, the symbol of everything she hates, offers her a chance. Offers her hope.

Caitlyn comes from a life of wealth and privilege, that is violently upended through her eye opening journey with Vi and everything that follows. She undergoes great loss, and great pain, and as she is swallowed that darkness we see the loss of hope in Violet and Caitlyn both. I have cited it a few times in discussions of the events of this story, but the lyrics from Hamilton's "Its quiet uptown" always return to me in times of thinking of both Vi's days in the pit and Caitlyn's as the commander.

"There are moments that your in so deep, it feels easier to just swim down"

Now of course, it is not simply the loss of relationship that drives both of these women into that lowest point. Nor is it solely the restoration of that love that pulls them out. But what they mean to one another, the promise of what might be... that is one of the central messages of this story. To let go of the darkness of yesterday, and embrace the hope of tomorrow.

After months apart, surviving great loss and tragedy, Caitlyn and Violet reunite on the ridge outside of Viktor's commune. I spoke on this recently, but I was confused at first during this moment. It seemed almost, comical. Caitlyn was so stiff, derisive. But then I remembered their first meeting:

Vi inside of her cell, the defenses she had built around herself as the cocky and brash inmate to hide her overwhelming pain on full display, and Caitlyn. Standing tall, apart, seeming almost to be having to make an effort to look down her nose at Vi. Until she finds out Vi had been abused inside that prison, that haven of the establishment she served, and steps over the line beginning a journey she never could have imagined would be so life-changing.

Thinking back on that, I realized what we are seeing is Caitlyn protecting herself. She has closed herself off to any possibility that the woman she loves could still care for her. Until she hears it... Cupcake... And in that moment thanks to the wonderful animation of this show, we see in her eyes, she knows that all is not lost. Perhaps things can never be as they were. But maybe.. there is hope they could be something new. Because even with everything she has done, Vi has not given up on her...

And it is when Vi's hope is failing... in Jinx, in Caitlyn, and in herself, perhaps in a way that she never would have recovered from, that Caitlyn returns to her in a prison cell. Offering that light that she once did, only stronger and more resolute. As she enters, Vi is in danger of falling into that darkness, lamenting that her belief in her sister has cost her everyone that matters to her. But Caitlyn comes to her, crossing the threshold of Vi's pain and it's not just that she relocated the guards, and set aside her hatred in favor of Vi's love. It's that she SEES Vi. She doesn't just trust Vi to make the right choice, but the worthy choice. Because she not only believes in Vi's heart, she honors it, she holds it as sacred, and in one simple action that could never be matched with words she shows Vi that her fierce love and hope in people is not a weakness, but her greatest strength.

Ultimately, after so much tragedy and pain, it is through fierce love, and hope without condition that they find their way back to one another. When I see them in the end, it is that hope that resonates me. They are broken, battered, grieving and in the midst of terrible loss. But their love has been through the fires of hell, and emerged. Stronger, and more real than it ever could have been. And it is with that bond in one another that they can move forward. The promise of tomorrow no longer a distant dream.

**Someone had the nerve to ask me why I keep using this gif. HAVE YOU SEEN THEM?!?!?**

Thank you for anyone who reads this. I know because of my own comments some were probably expecting the longer thing like I have been doing, but I just.... it wasn't what this needed from me. Anyway, keep standing up for stories that matter. Til next time.

[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

chapter tags: suicidal thoughts (not Tommy), attempted suicide, ambiguous character death

read below or on ao3

Day 5: 2006

“Tommy, it's not-”

Tommy didn't bother listening to whatever was about to come out of Howie's mouth. He hurried toward the locker room, desperate to get away from everyone.

“Kinard!” Gerrard growled from behind him. Tommy stopped, then turned to face him and the rest of his team. “Where the hell do you think you're going?”

“I'm gonna change,” Tommy replied, clearing his throat. “And go home.”

“The hell you are! You're not goin' anywhere until we talk about what happened out there.”

B shift had already started working an hour before Gerrard's team got back from the last call. The station was filled with men, all staring between Gerrard and Tommy. When they realized just how serious this conversation was going to be, they all began to try and clear the area, but Gerrard stopped them.

“Everybody stays right where they are!” he demanded. “Kinard here can explain himself to everyone.”

Tommy glanced around at all the eyes on him. He wasn't one to embarrass easily, but this was different. He was embarrassed, ashamed, and felt like a total failure.

“Go ahead,” Gerrard beckoned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Explain.”

“The call was for a-”

“Speak up!”

He took a deep breath. “The call was for a woman who had climbed over the balcony railing at her apartment.”

“How high up was she?” Gerrard asked.

“Eighteenth floor. When... When we got to her apartment, I headed out to the balcony to see if I could talk her back over.”

“Ma'am, my name is Tommy Kinard, I'm a firefighter with the LAFD. Is it okay if I step closer to you?”

“I don't need anyone to talk to!” she yelled. “I just want it to end!”

He took a cautious step closer. “Can you tell me your name, please?”

“J- Joanie.”

“Joanie, I don't know if you heard me before, but my name is Tommy. I really don't want you to fall right now while we're talking. Can I help you over?”

“No!” she shouted. “I don't- I don't want to talk! I told you that!”

“I know you did, Joanie. I just want to understand how we got here a little bit better.” He inched closer. “Can you tell me that?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“It matters to me.”

There was a beat of silence as Tommy took one more step toward her. Enough so he could reach out and grab if it came to it. Still, he'd prefer to be right up beside her if possible.

“My... My husband left me,” she began, tears clouding her vision. “No. No, I left him. He wasn't a good man.”

“That's very brave of you, Joanie.”

“My kids, they're teenagers now and they don't- they just don't need me anymore. They get mad at me all the time, and nothing I ever do is right for them and I'm just so, so tired.”

“How old are your kids?”

Joanie let go of the railing with one hand to wipe at her eyes. “Thirteen and fifteen.”

“They're still young,” Tommy replied. “I'm gonna be really honest with you right now, Joanie, they still need you. It may not feel like it, but it's true.”

She shook her head. “You don't understand.”

“I do,” Tommy assured her. “I understand that you're feeling so alone right now, like no one is on your side. I understand that you think your kids will be okay without you, because they're strong and they're independent. Is that right?”

She nodded.

“Well, it's not true.” He moved even closer, one hand lingering between two rails, inches from gripping her back jean pocket. “Your kids need you so much more than you think. They will miss you every single day and they will wonder what they could have done differently to make you stay.”

“I don't... I don't want them to feel guilty,” she wept, inhaling in short bursts.

“They will though,” he answered honestly and, hell, he probably should not be the one doing this right now. He should back away and let someone else take over.

But it was him here, and the only thing he could do was tell her what he knew.

“I know you don't want that, Joanie. I know it's hard right now. I know you feel like you don't matter, but you matter so much. You matter to me, and you matter to your kids, and you matter to all the people on the ground right now. You matter to the woman who called 911. You matter, Joanie.”

She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. With one hand, she let go of the railing again, stepped her foot out, and Tommy took the opportunity to grab at her pocket.

Before he could get his other hand around her, she was leaning forward. “No!” he screamed, losing his grip on her. The only thing he held onto was a red handkerchief she had sticking out of her pocket. "No, no, no!” Then someone was pulling him back and away from the railing.

“And in your professional opinion,” Gerrard began as soon as Tommy finished his story, “was she jumping, or did she trip while she tried to turn back around?”

“I- I don't know.”

“Hm. Ya don't know. Guess you never will either, now.” He stared directly into Tommy's eyes and, as much as he wanted to look away, Tommy stared back. “Now two kids don't have their mom because you decided to grab onto a handkerchief instead of a civilian!”

“It wasn't his fault,” Howie spoke up. “I was-”

“I don't remember asking for your opinion, Han,” Gerrard interrupted, not even bothering to look over at the man. “A shift! You are free to go home. B shift, enjoy your night. Remember to try and save lives, not help in takin' them!”

As the crowd broke apart, Tommy headed into the locker room to grab his things. He jerked his duffel out of his locker, items spilling onto the ground. From behind, Gerrard continued to berate him.

“Damn it, Kinard, if you can't handle losin' somebody, you should have chosen a different career path!” he barked, kicking Tommy's spare t-shirt with his dirty boot. “Or, ya know, try savin' them next time!”

Tommy closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. He waited for the sound of Gerrard's footsteps to disappear before slamming his locker door shut.

His hand curled into a fist and he beat it against the locker once, twice, three times, letting out a yell with each hit.

His hand shook, pain radiating through his knuckles when he tried to stretch his fingers out.

“You want me to look at that?”

The voice made him jump. He turned to see Howie standing in the doorway, his face full of concern.

“I'm fine,” Tommy said, shaking out his hand. It was red, some of the skin torn at the knuckles, little beads of blood resting on the surface.

“You sure about that?”

“I said I'm fine, Howie.”

“It wasn't your fault, Tommy. I was there, right behind you. I saw-”

“Just stop!” Tommy yelled. “Please, Howie, just... just stop talking.” His eyes were red-rimmed and filling with tears. He needed everyone to be quiet and leave him the hell alone.

Howie nodded, backing out of the locker room and walking away.

*****

Tommy took a few minutes to pick his things up off the floor. His hands were still a bit shaky and, of all the things that dropped from his duffel, his keys were the toughest to find.

Once he finally found them, he grabbed up his stuff and headed for the door.

“Kinard!” Gerrard called out as Tommy neared the exit. He froze, turning slowly to face his captain.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Gotcha a Christmas present this year,” he said, holding out a grocery store bag.

Tommy looked between Gerrard and the bag. He couldn't help but be suspicious. 

“Come on,” he said, shaking the bag. “Don't have all day here.”

Tommy took the bag, opening it up and reaching in. He felt his heart drop as he pulled out a red handkerchief. “Wh... What's...”

Gerrard smirked. “It's hers. You gave it to an officer at the scene and, well, he said he wasn't gonna need it. I took it upon myself to make sure it got right back to you.” He stepped closer to Tommy, who couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the handkerchief. “I want you to look at that every single day and remember how you failed that woman and her children.” With a pat on his shoulder, Gerrard turned away. “Merry Christmas, Kinard!”

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

[since everything under a Read More cut gets deleted in case a blog deletes/gets deleted and the WayBackMachine isn’t good with pictures, for Archive Purposes Only, I will add the most important bits of the/rest of the full post and have also checked/updated/added the source links to the best of my abilities.]

"Harry and Louis are only closeted publicly.

In their daily lives they live together, and their friends and family, and probably even close colleagues, know about them.

You have to remember that there are different ways to be closeted, and fandom as a whole seems to be taking the very strict “they can’t be themselves, they are living a lie” type of idea. It’s the most common one where they are just constantly pretending to be heterosexual, they don’t tell anyone they’re gay, it’s this big secret no one knows about, and when celebrities talk about it, they’re always like “it was such a relief to get it off my chest, for someone to finally know”. But... that’s not the only way to be closeted.

There are a lot of people out there who have come out to their family, their friends, and they live their life ... gayly. That’s not implying going out to a club, or cruising, or even announcing they are gay daily in every conversation, it just means going about your day with this awareness inside you that you are gay. That you are not operating in this world as “the default”. You are, just by existing, being gay. Your queerness is so much a part of you, that if you were a character in a book, your epithet would be “the gay one”. They are... openly gay.

But because they don’t announce they are gay daily, or even to every person they know, they are still closeted. The easiest example of this are people who are closeted at work. They don’t talk about their spouse. They might even actively choose not to mention it (I’ve done this even, because I worked in fucking fiber optics construction and could tell if I said shit, I would be tormented). But they have a family, they live their life as they want. They are “closeted”... but they live their lives VERY differently than someone who has no support.

And I think we should consider that this is the exact same situation. Harry and Louis are choosing not to talk about their spouse, or their personal life... at work. It’s only with us. Strangers.

Just like [...] a normal person chooses to be closeted at work, so too can a celebrity. And that’s not to diminish the fact that that kind of forced closeting happens. I actually have a pretty good idea of why it can be such a big misconception, that leads to this kind of thinking.

It’s because, I think we can all agree, that at one point Harry and Louis were forcibly closeted. They were two cute teenage kids who lived out the first six months of their courtship on reality television. And then immediately got thrust into their dream job - a wild fucking world of fame that they couldn’t even begin to fathom. They teased each other, they [revelled] in the taunting, and the play acting. Hell, they [possibly] even... sorta enjoyed the lying, thinking they were getting one over on everyone. And then that was quickly taken away from them.

They were forced to stop interacting with each other. They were forced to lie. We have pretty good evidence that Louis had to lie to his sisters, probably to his extended family. His friends. He needed people to believe he was with Eleanor, because anyone could leak a story about him, because he was so famous, and his management didn’t give a shit about protecting them yet, so they wouldn’t block stories that came up. Louis and, more than likely, Harry were at one point very close to the strict closet that the [general public] thinks of when you think of closeting. This was the reality of 2013 to 2015 One Direction.

That is not what it is now. And for a VERY long time in fandom, from 2011 until, hell 2019 or 2020 I want to say, the only other side of the closeted coin was a full reveal. Coming out to EVERYONE. Coming out to the public. And I do think that for a long while, definitely during One Direction, and maybe even through 2016, Harry and Louis wanted to “Come Out” to everyone. They wanted to give that part of themselves to the world. The Vogue photoshoot. The big interview. I think it was a very idolized time.

But that’s not reality anymore. They’ve changed. Society has changed. Parasocial relationships are a named thing now. The question of celebrity culture, and the right to musicians personal lives are coming up more and more. They are out to their family and friends. It’s very obvious Harry’s team knows he’s gay, same as Louis. And their families. People they work with, who know them, might pick up on things, might even see them with each other, but they aren’t being told outright.

Idk it’s just... when I think about people being entitled to someone’s closet, or assuming that being closeted speaks negatively about the person who is choosing to stay closeted, I think about the fact they are expecting someone to come out to STRANGERS. Do you know how terrifying that is?

Their families know. Their loved ones know. They own houses together. They vacation in Italy and Jamaica. They have a joint bank account, and one specifically for art. They probably smoke weed and make out with each other at social gatherings with their teams because they’re grossly [exhibitionistic], like... they are living the life.

Why isn’t that enough? Why do we - strangers - have to be invited?

Again, I fully admit that at one point in time Harry and Louis were closeted when they didn’t want to be, and told they couldn’t come out by people who had authority over them, and it was baked into “image clause” language in their contracts. Because they now both are “independent” (Harry has a distribution deal, and Louis is with BMG) there is a chance the “image clause” is no longer a thing that is stopping either of them from coming out. If that is the case they still could choose not to come out, and that would not change anything about who they are as people. It wouldn’t make them scared, or less, or anything but two gay people living gayly who don’t want to be out in at work.

TL;DR celebrities are humans who don’t have to tell the general public they are gay because the general public are strangers"

A Post on Being Closeted

I’ve had a few anons recently messaging me about their thoughts on when Harry and Louis might come out and that’s fine but something has been kinda churning in my stomach, making me a little off, and I finally figured out why. It’s the way closeting, and their decision to come out or not, is talked about. Things like “I thought they were too proud to stay closeted” or “I just don’t see them as the type who would want to stay closeted” and I just… I really, really need to hammer something home.

Keep reading

[kezdispenser]

Breaking Character pt7/?

Summary: You are the new cast member of 'The Boys' and you play Butcher's cousin and Soldier Boy's new love interest 'Solene'. You're introduced to the cast by the director at a dinner and you're seated next to Karl and Jensen to "bond".

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Warnings: language, fluff, smut maybe

The air on set was thick with unspoken tension, suffocating and heavy. I couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone knew something was off between me and Jensen. I avoided looking at him, avoided even acknowledging his presence as much as possible. Every step I took felt like it weighed a ton, and my heart seemed to be beating in double time, a reminder of how everything had spiraled out of control over the past week.

And now, they had to shoot an intimate scene. The one where Solene comforts Soldier Boy after a brutal fight. Simple enough on paper—two characters, broken in their own ways, sharing a moment of mutual vulnerability. But with every glance exchanged, the underlying tension made it unbearable.

“Places, everyone,” the director called, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts.

I walked to my mark, my feet dragging with every step. Jensen was already in position, standing there like the fucking rock he always was, but there was a crack in his façade. His eyes avoided mine, his jaw tense, his posture stiff.

The scene was supposed to be intimate, but it felt like we were acting for the camera, not for each other.

he director called for the first take, and I moved toward Jensen, my steps measured. I was careful not to get too close—no unnecessary touches, no stray glances—but the second my hand brushed against his, the heat of his body sent a jolt through me. I barely registered the next few lines, lost in the way his skin felt under my touch.

"Soldier Boy," I whispered softly, almost breathlessly. My heart thudded in my chest, and all I could think about was how goddamn real it felt.

Jensen looked at me, his eyes stormy and unreadable. His lips parted, but no words came out. He simply swallowed hard and nodded as if to say, "I’m here, but I’m not really here."

And that was it.

"Cut," the director said.

I instantly stepped back, my breath uneven, my hands trembling as I wiped them on my pants. I didn’t look at Jensen as I retreated. I couldn’t. Not with the crackling tension hanging between us. Not after everything that had happened.

I didn’t even bother going to my trailer. Instead, I found myself walking aimlessly, trying to shake the feeling that the world around me was crumbling. My feet took me to the break room, and as I passed the kitchen, Erin Moriarty caught up with me.

“Hey,” Erin said, her tone concerned, her eyes full of that familiar, sisterly worry. “You alright?”

My heart sank. I knew I had to pretend, to lie, but the words didn’t come out right.

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice too high-pitched, a forced smile pulling at my lips. "Just... just tired."

Erin arched an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “Bullshit. You’re avoiding him, aren’t you?”

My gaze flicked away, trying to hide the truth. “What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice just a little too defensive.

Erin crossed her arms, unyielding. “Don’t act like I don’t know you, Y/N. You’ve been avoiding Jensen all week. What the hell happened?”

My shoulders slumped, the weight of the conversation finally crashing down on me. “Nothing happened,” I muttered, but it was more for myself than for Erin. “It’s just... I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending things are okay when they’re not. It’s just... a fucking mess, you know?”

Erin’s gaze softened. “I get it. It’s not easy. But avoiding him isn’t helping. It’s just making it worse. You two were close. Whatever the hell happened, you need to talk about it. Bottling it up like this? It’s not going to end well.”

I took a deep breath, my throat tightening. “I just... I can’t. I don’t know if I can do it again.”

“Do what?” Erin asked, her voice gentle, though the concern was evident.

“Trust him,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I’m scared I’ll just end up getting hurt again.”

Erin sighed softly, her eyes full of understanding. “I know you’re hurting. I get it. But you can’t just run away from everything. You need to talk to him, Y/N. You need to figure this shit out.”

I nodded, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything more. Erin had no idea what had really happened, and there was no way I was going to explain it now.

The set was alive with the usual chaos—lights being adjusted, crew members barking instructions, and actors running lines. I stepped onto the soundstage, clutching my script tightly, trying to ignore the ache in my chest that had been there since my talk with Erin. Across the room, Karl and Jensen were already in place, their banter subdued but still present.

Karl spotted me first, his sharp eyes narrowing as I approached. “Morning, love,” he said, his voice warm but edged with concern. “You look like shite. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I replied quickly, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

“Bull-fuckin’-shit,” Karl shot back, folding his arms. “What’s going on? You’ve been off all week.”

“I’m fine, Karl,” I insisted, my voice firm.

He frowned but didn’t push further, though his gaze flicked to Jensen, who was standing nearby with his hands shoved in his pockets. “You good, mate?” Karl asked Jensen, his tone sharp now, almost accusatory.

“Fine,” Jensen replied, his voice clipped, his jaw tightening as he avoided Karl’s glare.

Karl didn’t buy it for a second. “Right. And I’m the bloody Queen of England.” He turned back to me, lowering his voice. “You let me know if this arsehole’s done somethin’, yeah?”

“Jesus, Karl,” Jensen muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t ‘Jesus’ me, Ackles,” Karl snapped, his voice low but heated. “She’s been out of sorts, and I’m bettin’ it’s got fuck-all to do with anyone but you.”

“Can we just focus on the damn scene?” I interjected, my voice tight.

Karl hesitated, but the director called for everyone to take their marks, saving me from further interrogation. I moved to my position between Karl and Jensen, my heart pounding as we prepared to dive into the scene.

The dialogue crackled with tension, my character locking horns with Butcher before Soldier Boy stormed in to stir the pot.

“You two done yappin’?” Jensen sneered in character, his tone dripping with contempt. “Or should I come back when you’ve sorted out your pathetic little pissing contest?”

Karl turned on him with a snarl, getting right in his face. “Say one more word, you cocky fuck, and I’ll knock your shiny arse into next week.”

I stepped between them, delivering my lines with a fire I didn’t have to fake. The tension in the scene mirrored the chaos in my head, and by the time the director yelled “Cut!” I was ready to bolt.

“That was gold, people,” the director called. “Reset for the next take.”

Karl turned to me as soon as the cameras stopped rolling. “You all right, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, avoiding his gaze.

Karl wasn’t buying it. He looked over at Jensen again, his expression dark. “If you’ve done somethin’ to hurt her, mate, I swear to fuck—”

“Back off, Karl,” Jensen cut in, his voice low and strained. “This isn’t about you.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” Karl shot back. “She’s like a bloody little sister to me, and I won’t stand by while you fuck with her head.”

“Enough!” I snapped, my voice breaking. Both of them turned to me, guilt flashing across Jensen’s face and frustration etched into Karl’s. “I don’t need this right now, okay? Just drop it.”

I stormed off the set, leaving both of them behind. I could feel their eyes on me, but I didn’t look back. The weight of everything—Danneel’s words, Jensen’s silence, Karl’s protectiveness—was too much. I needed space before I fell apart completely.

I barely made it halfway to my trailer before Karl’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Oi, Y/N. Hold up a sec.”

I sighed, trying to keep walking, but his footsteps quickly caught up to mine. He stepped in front of me, blocking my path with a calm but determined expression.

“Alright, spill. What’s goin’ on with you?” he asked, his tone softer than usual, though still laced with concern.

“It’s nothing, Karl,” I mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

He tilted his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t give me that shit. You’ve been off all week, and it’s written all over your face. So unless you want me to keep askin’ in front of everyone on set, maybe just tell me now?”

I hesitated, but the weight of everything I’d been holding in started to crush me. “It’s just... stuff,” I muttered weakly.

“Stuff?” Karl raised an eyebrow. “Alright, now I know it’s bad. You’re not exactly the type to get bent out of shape over ‘stuff.’ Who pissed you off, love? Or do I need to guess?”

I glanced at him, chewing on my lip, and he sighed. “It’s Jensen, isn’t it?”

“It’s not his fault,” I blurted, defensive. “Not really.”

Karl groaned softly, running a hand down his face. “Look, I’m not tryin’ to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but you and Jensen—you two had this thing, yeah? And now you’re avoidin’ him like he’s got the bloody plague. So what gives?”

I looked down, my voice barely a whisper. “It’s Danneel.”

He frowned, leaning closer to hear me better. “What about her?”

“She called me a gold digger,” I admitted, my throat tightening as I spoke. “Told me I’d never be good enough for Jensen or his kids. And then... I walked in on her trying to—” My voice broke, and I looked away, ashamed. “She was trying to get him back. She was all over him, Karl.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, his tone laced with disbelief. “That’s bloody low, even for an ex.”

I wiped at my eyes, feeling the tears start to spill over. “And now I can’t stop thinking about it. What if she’s right? What if I really don’t belong in his world? He’s this big deal, and I’m just... me.”

Karl let out a heavy sigh, his voice softening even more. “Y/N, listen to me. Danneel’s full of shit. You don’t need to listen to a damn word she says.”

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, his gaze steady. “You’re smart, talented, and honestly one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. Jensen’s bloody lucky to have you, and if he hasn’t made that clear, that’s on him—not you.”

I sniffled, my chest aching with doubt. “But she—”

“She’s scared,” Karl cut in. “That’s all it is. She sees how happy Jensen is with you, and it scares the fuck outta her. So she’s doin’ everything she can to mess with your head. Don’t let her win, alright?”

I managed a shaky smile, his words sinking in a little. “Thanks, Karl. You didn’t have to say all that.”

“‘Course I did,” he said with a crooked grin. “You’re like family to me. And I don’t let family deal with shit like this alone.”

I laughed softly, the sound a little watery but genuine. “You’re too nice for your own good, you know that?”

“Don’t let it get around,” he teased. Then, with a wink, he added, “Now go on. Figure your shit out. And if Jensen’s got half a brain in that pretty head of his, he’ll sort his shit out too.”

I nodded, feeling a little lighter as I turned back toward my trailer.

Karl watched me go, muttering under his breath as I walked away, “Fuckin’ gold digger, my ass.”

The knock on my trailer door was soft but insistent, pulling me out of my thoughts. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I was ready to face anyone, especially him.

“Y/N? It’s me,” Jensen’s voice came from the other side, gentle but firm.

I sighed, dragging myself off the small couch and shuffling to the door. “What do you want?”

“To talk,” he said, his tone almost pleading. “Please, just... let me in.”

I hesitated before opening the door just enough to peek out. There he was, standing with a massive bouquet of flowers in one hand and a carefully arranged basket in the other, filled to the brim with snacks, chocolates, marshmallows, crackers, and—of course—a bottle of Jack tucked neatly in the corner.

“What’s all this?” I asked, my brows furrowing as I stepped back to let him in.

He walked in slowly, setting the basket down on the tiny table before turning to me. Without a word, he closed the gap between us, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead. The warmth of it caught me off guard, and I froze, my heart pounding against my ribs.

“It’s an apology,” he said quietly, stepping back just enough to look me in the eye. He held out the bouquet, the colors vibrant and beautiful against the dim lighting of the trailer. “I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything.”

I took the flowers hesitantly, my fingers brushing against his. “Jensen...”

“Let me say this,” he interrupted, his voice soft but insistent. “I know I messed up. I know I let shit get out of hand, and I didn’t do enough to stop it. But I swear to you, I never wanted to hurt you. I hate that I did.”

I looked down at the bouquet, my fingers tightening around the stems. “You let her get in my head, Jensen. You let her make me feel like I don’t belong in your life.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “And I fucking hate myself for it. Danneel... she doesn’t know you, and she sure as hell doesn’t know us. But I do. And I know that I need you in my life.”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the lump in my throat at bay. “It’s not that simple. You have a whole life, Jensen. Kids. Responsibilities. And I’m just... me.”

“You’re not ‘just’ anything,” he said fiercely, taking a step closer. “You’re everything, Y/N. You’re kind, and funny, and strong as hell. And you’ve already brought so much good into my life, more than I deserve. I can’t let you walk away thinking you’re not enough. You’re more than enough.”

I blinked back tears, my walls crumbling bit by bit as his words sank in. “This isn’t easy for me,” I admitted. “I’m scared, Jensen. Scared of being a burden. Scared of not being able to handle all of this.”

“You’re not a burden,” he said softly, reaching out to take my free hand in his. “You’re my peace. My fucking sanity in the middle of all this chaos. And I’m sorry I let anyone—especially her—make you feel otherwise.”

I stared at him, my heart aching with a mix of hope and doubt. “How do I know this won’t happen again? That she won’t try to come between us?”

“Because I won’t let her,” he said firmly. “And if she tries, I’ll shut it down. Every time. I promise you, Y/N, I’m all in. Whatever it takes to prove that to you, I’ll do it.”

I let out a shaky breath, my grip on the bouquet loosening as I looked up at him. “You really mean that?”

“Every fucking word,” he said, his green eyes filled with nothing but sincerity.

After a long moment, I nodded, a small smile breaking through despite the tears threatening to fall. “Alright. But you owe me more than flowers and snacks. You owe me tacos.”

A wide grin spread across his face, and he let out a laugh that made my chest feel lighter. “Tacos, huh? Consider it done.”

Before I could respond, he pulled me into a warm hug, his arms wrapping around me like a safety net I didn’t know I needed. For the first time in weeks, I let myself relax, resting my head against his chest as the faint smell of his cologne surrounded me.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“For what?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“For not giving up on me,” I said, pulling back just enough to look at him.

His smile softened, and he leaned down to kiss my forehead again, his lips lingering for a moment. “Never.”

The knock on Danneel’s door was loud and deliberate, with just enough force to make a point. I stood beside Jensen, arms crossed, already bracing myself for whatever venom Danneel was likely to spit. Jensen’s jaw was tight, his free hand resting lightly on the small of my back.

“Last chance to back out,” he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with irritation but softened just enough for me.

“Not a chance,” I replied, meeting his eyes briefly. “We’re doing this.”

Before either of us could say anything else, the door swung open, revealing Danneel in a loose cardigan and a scowl that deepened the second she spotted me.

“Well, look who it is,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain as her eyes flicked between us. “Didn’t realize you needed backup, Jensen.”

“We’re here for the kids,” Jensen said flatly, ignoring her jab.

“They’re fine,” she snapped, leaning against the doorframe like she had all the time in the world. “You didn’t need to come storming over here like some fucking knight in shining armor.”

“They called me, Danneel,” Jensen shot back, his tone hardening. “They’re not fine.”

“They’re kids, Jensen. They’ll get over it. They always do.”

I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “They shouldn’t have to ‘get over it,’ Danneel. If they’re uncomfortable, it’s your job to listen to them. Not force them to put up with it.”

Her gaze snapped to me, her lips curling into a bitter smirk. “Oh, and here it is—the lecture from the wannabe stepmom. Let me tell you something, sweetheart,” she said, her voice sharp and condescending. “You’re not their mother. You’ll never be their mother.”

“Enough,” Jensen barked, stepping in front of me slightly. “We’re not doing this shit, Danneel. Just get the kids.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “You think this little arrangement of yours is going to last? You think she’s ready for what it takes? Please. She’ll be gone the second it gets hard. Or the second she realizes she’s playing house with someone else’s family.”

“That’s enough!” Jensen’s voice was firm now, his anger barely contained. “You don’t get to talk to her like that. Ever.”

Danneel rolled her eyes but turned back into the house. Moments later, JJ, Arrow, and Zeppelin appeared, each carrying their backpacks and practically vibrating with relief.

JJ ran straight to Jensen, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “Dad!” she exclaimed before turning to me with a big smile. “Hi, Y/N!”

“Hey, kiddo,” I said, crouching to hug her. “You ready to get out of here?”

“More than ready,” she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder.

Arrow and Zeppelin were close behind, their little faces lighting up when they saw Jensen. Arrow crossed her arms, glaring back at the house. “I hate him,” she muttered.

“Who?” Jensen asked, crouching to her level.

“Mom’s boyfriend,” she said, her tone defiant. “He’s mean, Dad. He yells all the time and tells us we’re annoying.”

“And he ate my cereal!” Zeppelin chimed in, his voice small but indignant.

Jensen’s face softened as he reached out to ruffle their hair. “You don’t have to deal with him anymore, okay? You’re with me now.”

“And me,” I added, smiling at them.

Arrow grinned. “Can we have pancakes for dinner?”

“Hell fucking yes, we can,” Jensen said, making the kids burst into laughter.

Danneel reappeared at the door, her expression icy. “You’re just going to let them talk about me like that? Real mature, Jensen.”

“Maybe if you listened to them, they wouldn’t have to,” he shot back.

Her gaze snapped to me again, the disdain in her eyes almost tangible. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she said, her tone low and venomous. “This little fantasy of yours isn’t going to last.”

Jensen didn’t reply. He just turned, his hand on the small of my back again as he led me and the kids to the car.

As we drove away, the tension in the car began to melt. JJ was already chattering about a new show she wanted to watch, while Arrow and Zeppelin argued over music choices.

I glanced at Jensen, his grip on the steering wheel relaxed now, and gave him a small smile.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he said quietly.

“Always,” I replied, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

As we drove through the quiet streets, the kids’ voices were the only thing breaking the silence, but I could tell Jensen’s mind was still spinning after everything with Danneel. I couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said, but there was something else eating at me too.

“Jensen,” I started, my voice quiet, but I knew he’d hear me.

He glanced at me briefly before focusing back on the road. “Yeah?”

I let out a sigh, my fingers tapping nervously on my knee. “As much as she hurt me... I don’t want the kids to hate their mom.”

Jensen’s grip on the wheel tightened for a second. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel the tension coming off him. “You sure about that? After everything she said to you?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “I don’t want them growing up with that resentment. I’ve been there. My childhood was a mess, Jensen. Watching my parents tear each other apart, and I ended up stuck in the middle of it. I don’t want the kids to feel like they have to choose sides or grow up with that kind of bitterness. I can’t do that to them.”

He glanced at me for a second, his eyes softening, but he didn’t pull his gaze from the road. “You’re one hell of a person, you know that?” he muttered, his voice thick. “I get what you’re saying. I don’t want them to carry any of that weight. I’m not gonna let that happen.”

I looked out the window for a moment, letting his words sink in. “I just don’t want to be the one who makes things harder for them,” I said quietly, almost to myself.

“You won’t,” he said firmly. “They’re my kids, and I’ll always do what’s best for them. But I can’t make that happen if they feel like they have to pick sides.”

“I know,” I muttered, and we fell into a comfortable silence. It wasn’t sappy or dramatic—it was just two people who understood how important this was.

“I’ve got their backs,” he said finally, his voice steady. “And I’ve got yours.”

After we tucked the kids in, the whole vibe in the house shifted into this warm, cozy kind of energy. Jensen and I took our time, making sure each kid had their favorite blanket and stuffed animal. The whole thing was so normal and comforting that it felt like something straight out of a dream. As we moved between their rooms, Jensen kept his arm casually draped around my shoulders like he wasn’t even aware of how perfectly he was handling everything—like it was just second nature for him to be the best dad in the world and a sweet, considerate partner all at once.

We walked back into the hallway, the quiet after the kids’ laughter almost making the house feel like it was holding its breath. Then, as if on cue, Jensen turned to me and raised an eyebrow, that playful grin tugging at his lips. “Wanna do the thing?”

I grinned back, practically giddy. “You’re damn right I do.”

“Alright,” he said, reaching for my hand with that soft, reassuring grasp of his. “One, two, three…”

And then, like we’d done this a thousand times, we both walked up to Arrow and Zeppelin’s door, ready to deliver our bedtime routine for the millionth time—except this time, it felt even more important. It felt like we were doing something special. With a dramatic flair, we leaned into their rooms together.

“Time for the goodnight kisses!” Jensen announced in his best, most dramatic voice, making me laugh.

Arrow giggled, her face lighting up with excitement. “Goodnight, Daddy!” she called out, holding her arms wide for her hug.

Jensen knelt down to scoop her up with a smile that could melt the coldest hearts. “Night, sweet girl,” he whispered as he kissed her forehead, his eyes soft with affection.

Zeppelin, already under his blanket and half-asleep, raised a hand up and mumbled, “Goodnight, Dad…”

I stepped into the room with him, smiling as he reached up to give me a sleepy hug. “Goodnight, buddy,” I said, kissing the top of his head, and then gently tucking him back into bed.

Jensen looked up at me, giving me one of those looks where I could tell he was thinking exactly what I was thinking. “We’re doing a damn good job,” he said, voice low and soft.

I smiled, feeling that overwhelming affection for him again. “You’re doing the best job. Look at them—they’re so lucky to have you.”

His hand lingered on my arm as we walked out of the kids’ rooms together, and it felt so right, so comfortable. As we reached the bottom of the stairs, I leaned in closer, letting my head rest against his shoulder for a second.

“You know,” I said, voice quieter now, “you’re pretty damn perfect.”

Jensen’s laughter was light and airy, and he nudged me gently. “Nah, I’m just winging it. But having you around makes it a hell of a lot easier.”

“Stop being modest,” I teased. “You’re literally the best dad. You’re patient, and kind, and you make them feel like they’re the most important people in the world. Not everyone can pull that off.”

He shook his head, pulling me in closer. “Just doing my thing, that’s all.”

I couldn’t help but smile even more, if that was even possible. “Well, you’re doing a damn good job of it.”

He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead in that sweet, gentle way that made my heart skip a beat, and I practically melted into him. “You’re making me blush, stop it,” he whispered, but I could tell it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

We stood there in the quiet, just enjoying the soft glow of the house, the kids tucked in bed, and the perfect calm of the night. It was all so simple, but it felt like we were building something that was far beyond anything either of us had ever had before.

“Okay,” Jensen finally said, his voice playful again. “What do you say we go grab some snacks and watch a movie?”

“Hell yeah,” I answered quickly, already feeling my excitement building at the thought of just being with him, no pressure, no drama—just the two of us, chilling out. “Let’s do it.”

We made our way to the kitchen, and Jensen immediately started rummaging through the cabinets, pulling out chips, cookies, and everything else we could need for the perfect late-night snack binge. “You good with all this junk?” he asked, holding up a bag of chips with an exaggerated look of seriousness.

“Hell yes,” I replied, snatching the bag from his hand with a grin. “You’ve got all the best snacks.”

As we both made ourselves comfortable on the couch, Jensen pulled the blanket over us, getting as close as possible, our legs tangled up together. He grinned at me, a little mischievous glint in his eye. “What movie are we watching?” he asked, like it was the most important question in the world.

“You pick,” I said, settling in against him, feeling perfectly at ease. “But nothing too serious. Let’s keep it light.”

He laughed, pulling up a random action movie. “Alright, light it is.”

And then, just as the opening credits rolled, Jensen reached over and casually brushed his lips against my cheek, making my heart skip. I leaned into him, letting myself get completely lost in the moment—this perfect little world we had carved out for ourselves, where we could just be ourselves without any of the outside noise.

It was one of those rare moments where everything felt right, and I knew, without a doubt, that this—us—was something worth holding onto.

--------------------------

A/N: I realised that i was making danneels own kids hate her, so i just wanted to add that its not what u think. OH and tell me if you want me to add something with Jared and Gen.

@justwhisperingfantasies @impala67rollingthroughtown @deansimpalababy @jackles010378 @winchester @barnes70stark @nancymcl @oceean @spnaquakindgdom @ladysparkles78 @sexyvixen7 @spxideyver

[elainsgirl]

the gwynriels are backtracking and saying they know there isn’t anything romantic between azriel and gwyn now.. i think this is the light at the end of the tunnel. they know they’re cooked and they’re doing whatever they can to lessen the blowback when it turns out gwyn and az were never meant to be romantic in the first place, and everyone points the finger at them for gaslighting them into being so confident in a crackship.

Hey anon 🫶

So…they’re coming to the same conclusion elriels came too 3 years ago when the book was first published? I could’ve sworn they said that Gwyn making Az “snort” was soooooo romantic and showed just how good she is at getting him too open up or was it when he half-turned at her squealing that they claimed he was lowkey obsessed with Gwyn and her laughter? Have I imagined the past years where every single interaction between Gwyn and Az had some romantic undertone that only gwynriels could decipher? Before their book, you could tell Feyre was 1) into Rhys and 2) they had on page tension and moments that made it clear their relationship could be a potentially romantic one. Same with Nessian - before acosf, even when they were in their “enemies” “I hate you” phase, we still had on page romantic tension and romantic moments such as Nesta being willing to die for Cass. Exactly how Az was willing to die for Elain. Feysand & Nessian were left on cliffhangers before their books…exactly like elriel. Gwynriel once again not fitting the pattern.

You have nothing with Gwynriel. There isn’t tension. There is nothing romantic about them nor is any interaction romantically coded like with Feysand, Nessian, Elriel. At its core people ship them bcs they like the idea of gwynriel which fair enough. But bcs you like two characters together ≠ they’re endgame and that’s what gwynriels hve done. Shoving it down everyone’s throats that Gwyn and Az are mates (?) when that had been disproven a thousand times over. You can say gwynriel is happening but it has the same possibility as me saying Gwyn and Balthazar are happening.

I’ve been seeing it go both ways. Some are doubling down and pushing the gwynriel agenda even more whilst others are slowly admitting that Gwynriel isn’t as likely to happen as it once was. However I will find it hilarious when Sjm is confused that people thought she would switch up and make gwynriel happen out of no where and she had no romantic plan for them at all. You know, in the end I think most gwynriels are just going to claim:

sjm was scared to make gwynriel endgame bcs of how toxic elriels could be & Mass was afriad to receive backlash/Sjm did fan service

Gwynriel can still happen if the next book is Elains with Azriels pov

That Gwynriel was just a fun ship and none of them actually cared if it happened or not.

when Elains book is announced. Honestly, the confidence is admirable. I could never be confident in a ship where the two characters don’t even like each other that way. As mentioned before: Gwynriels have no one else to blame but themselves if their ship doesn’t happen. Those that heavily lied and misrepresented gwynriel to the fandom and those that decided to believe in gwynriel so easily.

[deadlysoupy]

complete (for now!) character sheets of my blorbo (huge thanks to @arcandoria your contribution to the fandom is incredible bless)

explanations under the cut (there's a lot bc i'm a yapper) (spoilers!)

Bellara: Rook and Bellara hit it off pretty much since the beginning. Rook loves to tinker, and Bellara's brain is always full of ideas, so they hang out a lot together just taking stuff apart and putting them together. despite Urchin not being a mage, he has basically grown up with mages and seen magic a lot in Tevinter, so i think he'd know a little bit. they bounce off each other really well, and when Cyrian comes back and she hits a low point, he supports her with a joke or lets her rant. neither he nor she will probably ever say it out loud, since it's a sensitive topic for both, but they consider each other siblings or cousins at least

Davrin: complete opposite of Bellara, Rook and Davrin got off on the wrong foot and couldn't get up lmao. Davrin had a problem with how Urchin handles things, he considers the Lords to be unethical and rude bastards, and how Urchin rushes into battle or does careless things. Urchin also hated how heroic Davrin seemed to pose as, he's pretty much jealous of his dalish upbringing, and his history with the Grey Wardens. they even got into a fight at some point (Urchin started it, by the way). but after that, they reach an understanding that turns into deep respect for what each of them went through, and to say that Rook would miss Davrin as his unbiased opinion and who wouldn't be afraid to challenge him is to say nothing

Emmrich: at first they got along great. the Lords taught Urchin to be respectful to spirits, and he's fascinated by death and the life beyond it. but Emmrich is a very "touchy-feely", inquisitive and curious person, which Urchin is a complete opposite of. still can't get out of my head the graveyard scene when Emmrich confides and talks about his parents, and Rook, trying to react in his usual non-emotional way, makes a joke, to which Emmrich deeply disapproves and Urchin has to apologize. that's the gist of their relationship, to be honest, but it does become better after a while. his experience in life helps Urchin a lot, and he likes listening to Emmrich talk about magic

Harding: good friends who goof around a lot! i don't have much to say about them to be honest, but i think there's potential here for so many goofs and gaffs and getting in jail. reminiscent of that one "mayhem!" line Harding has in a dlc of Inquisition, i think she'd be down to cause some chaos in Minrathous or something. Urchin also understands her anger, and he's remorseful at their revelation that the Titans died because of the elves. all in all, they're on very good terms

Lucanis: hooo boy. where do i even start and how do i make this as short as possible. there's always been an understanding between these two, even beyond romance, that was just a cherry on top. Lucanis had a lot going on when he came into the story, so Urchin gave him space and support when he needed it, because he knows how something that traumatic can hurt, and that sometimes you just don't want to talk about it. it's hard for them both to express feelings, and Lucanis is a guy of action rather than words, so he cooks, gives little gifts, gestures, and Rook in turn gives him compliments, jokes with him, takes him out on dates etc because he's more of a words guy. i don't know i could make a separate post about their specific romance that i've built in my head, give me an ask if you want it i denno

Neve: his emotionally stunted wife. you probably noticed how their bars are just insanely covered with colours, and that's because of the whole "Minrathous or Treviso" thing. i milk so much drama out of that choice because it's really good! beside the obvious, Rook couldn't really save Minrathous because of his past with slavery, but he still feels so bad about it because of Neve's love for it. and i don't think she can ever forgive him, actually, but she tries moving past it. the fact that they both had crushes on each other that turned south is kinda funny to me, because they're like two sides of the same coin! she's so afraid to get close to other people, she's snarky and doesn't turn down a good joke, her sense of style is incredible (i imagine them exchanging Tevinter fashion tips). they're still close even after the game, and grow closer after it, and Rook, Neve and Lucanis become a polycule. traumacule. do you see the vision

Taash: saved the best for last i guess because Urchin and Taash are like two siblings who hate each other. well, not exactly hate. i really liked how their relationship began, when Taash tells Rook how the Lords aren't thieves, and he's like "but we stole shit! literally!" and i think there's a really interesting contrast here. Taash was taught by their mother about cultural appropriation and respect, while Rook was Isabela's apprentice. Isabela's! there's no question he doesn't have almost any morals at all. so Taash thinks Rook's a jerk, but Urchin doesn't mind it much. after that, they bond over their gender issues, and since Urchin found his identity he shares his experience with them. in turn, Taash teaches him about dragons. they're also both from mixed cultures, so they have this solidarity over their messy lives. they're neat i like them

whoever read until the end. holy shit i want to kiss you

[dracoiaboli]

The Hell games will commence January 25! The games ill be conducted in the Wrath ring's amphitheater, and be broadcasted to all the various rings of Hell on select channels and streaming services.

This celebration is meant to showcase the raw, hedonistic carnage demons are known for in their entertainment! The Games will consist of five days of arena games with feasts, and various shows played in between matches! The matches will involve two opponents of similar merit locked in single combat with any weapon or fighting style of their choice. These battles have traditionally been to the death which will not change here, clemency may be given should the crowed be won over by the losing party but it should not be expected.

The matches will have various groups. These being Hellborn demons, sinners and angels, and nobles of both Heaven and Hell. Anyone from Hell and Heaven may attend the games, all expenditures shall be paid for by Satan directly. You are more then welcome to bring a plus one, or a plus fifty should you so choose. The arena will host any number, it hungers for bodies to fill its seats, and flesh and blood to fill its theatre.

All demons and angels are able to sign up to be combatants in the games, so long as there is an active pool of opponents to sink your blades into. We would not want to see St. Michael vs a lowly imp of course. Keep in mind you will have NO control over whom you fight. There will be no faction play, demons may fight angels, angels might fight angels, and goetia may fight goetia. The decisions shall be made based on schedules and what would make for the most entertainment.

Those amongst Hell's forces that prevail shall be rewarded as grand champion of the games, granted an estate to rival that of a goetic prince, their personal army, and all the currency they could ever need, as well as the respect and friendship of Hell's most ancient powers. Finally, all crimes committed shall be forever pardoned.

Those in Heaven shall receive a special prize should they win, one that is not at liberty to be made known just yet.

Applications for combatants are due the first of the coming month.

((OOC rules below))

You must like this post and reply to this post to let me know you intend on attending, just for the sake of keeping things organized for myself.

If you wish to fight please send me an ask telling me your muse's name, race, age, and their fighting style and weapons.

The games will start on 25th of Jan but they may go on longer if need be. Canonically they will be five days, depending on response times the irl time may be longer!

Anyone can fight! There are no rules barring anyone from joining!

You have to be okay with your muse dying! Not everyone who loses will die, and there will be more then one winner given the different classes! That said there is a possibility your muse could die! Please do not send in an application if you are not open to the possibility! Killing is sorta the point of the whole thing!

The fights should be plotted out between the two muns involved, though event coordinators (myself and potentially others) may offer help if needed. I shall talk to both parties before the fight actually starts to figure out how it will go.

The list of opponents will be posted the evening before the next day's games. Rules pertaining to fights may change as the roster grows, as well as how many different types of characters are involved. This list serves more as a foundation to add on later.

Feel free to ask me any questions!

Do not reblog this post as I will be adding to it if I feel I need to over the course of the next month. I am sure I most likely will.

[fablesam]

my angel ;; sam winchester

cw; angst, suicide, character death, overall just sad idk :p  if this isn't good yall mind your business!

step over the edge too far

open my hands that catch your fall

nothing to hear but my very own cry

far below the rocks and sky;;

now;; 

you watch, helplessly, as sam sits on the side of the 101 bridge, the wind seeming to push him closer and closer to the edge. he’s so empty, such a shell of the person he’d once been. 

sam, your sam. he’d always been so full of life, of love, always the one cracking jokes and making everyone else smile. you’d met him your freshman year of stanford, when he was the only man to help you move into your dorm room. he was studying law, while you were in psychology, and it seemed like you just sort of clicked.

you knew, after a while, that there was more to him than he let on. he’d told you he was from kansas, that his brother and dad traveled all over for work, that his mom had passed when he was too young to remember. little fragments of a life, left for you to piece together. you never minded, though. not when it was him. 

about a month before everything happened, you noticed sam acting a little strange. he’d be up late, sweating and out of breath from whatever nightmare decided to plague him that night. he was sneaking off, making phone calls, always saying he was talking to his brother. “my dad’s missing,” he’d told you one particularly bad night, “i might have to go with dean for a while, alright? i don’t know what’s going on yet, but he’ll be here tomorrow for us to talk,”

dean showed up late the next night, looking like he hadn’t slept in days, talking to sam in a hushed voice in the dining room. you had this horrible feeling, then, that this was something more than just their father not returning some calls. 

then;; 

the last time you saw sam winchester alive, he had a duffel thrown over his shoulder and a strangely distant demeanor. “i’ll be back in two days,” he’d told you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “just a couple days, that’s all. i love you so much, baby,” “i love you too, sammy,” you’d smiled up at him, “just be safe, alright? i’m sure you guys will find him,” 

two days came and went, and sam didn’t come home. by the third night, you were sure you were starting to lose it. you kept hearing things, small creaks of the floorboards, or seeing shadows from the corner of your eye. the apartment seemed to be constantly drafty, and you had this unshakeable feeling that someone was watching you. 

you shook it off, assuming it was just paranoia from being home alone. you had to take two melatonin just to be able to sleep that last night, and you still woke up in a cold sweat at 3 am. there was a quiet rustling in the living room, and you forced yourself up out of bed, heart slightly erratic as you peaked around the door frame into the dimly lit hallway. a man stood just feet away, looking you up and down like he expected you to be there, like he wasn’t startled at all that you’d caught him breaking into your house. you took a step back with a gasp, frantically scanning the room for anything you could possibly use to defend yourself.

the door was flung open, and he walked through with an easy confidence that only horrified you further. “well,” he smiled, and only then did you notice the yellow tint of his eyes, “i’ve been waiting a long time for sam to leave you home alone,”

“sam? what’re you-” in an instant, you were pinned to the ceiling, despite the man being at least three feet from yo, having never touched you. “your precious boyfriend’s gonna save me a lot of trouble,” he hissed, “you’ve been causing me a lot of issues, keeping him from his true potential,” 

you tried desperately to speak, to ask what potential he was even talking about, but the force holding you still was pressed tight against your throat. he took a step closer, a falsely comforting smile on his lips,  “you have no idea how much sam is capable of,” he muttered, “how much he’ll do for me. my blood runs in his veins, and soon, he’ll know the truth about who he is,” 

you managed to suck in just enough air to scream, the sound tearing through the silence of the apartment, almost as piercing as the pain that burned through your skin as he slit your throat.

you died looking down at the bed you and sam had shared, a photo of the two of you on the small night stand. you died with a sickening horror sunk deep into your bones, with the feeling of those yellow eyes all over you. more than anything, you died grateful that sam wasn’t there to see.

now;; 

you yearned, ached, to be able to help him. to urge him off the ledge, back to the makeshift home he’d made with dean since you died. back to the hunt for his father, to doing what he was apparently born to do. instead, you were forced to watch as he sobbed, your favorite sweater clutched in his arms. 

ever since that night, sam was like half of a person. he was silent near constantly, and when he did bother to speak to anyone, it was short and tense. he was awake at all hours of the night, rereading the police report from the night you died, tearing through book upon book of these supernatural beings. 

you’d slowly pieced together that you’d been right all that time, there was more to sam than you thought. his dad was missing on a hunting trip, as dean called it, hunting demons and all sorts of things you’d always thought were made up. you knew the first time you saw that yellow-eyed man that it had to be at least partially true. 

sam’s hoarse voice pulled you from your thoughts, crackling through his sobs, “i’m so sorry,” he choked, “i should’ve warned you, i’m so fucking sorry,” this was the only thing he really said since that night; how sorry he was. it was daily, usually paired with tears, usually full of desperation. you felt that you’d give anything to be able to soothe him one last time. 

“i can’t do it without you,” he cried, glaring up at the sky, “i never wanted to do any of this without you, i can’t- i need you to come home, i need to- god, i’m sorry,” he pulled himself to his feet on shaky legs, one hand holding onto the bridge railing behind him, eyes still focused on the sky. “how could you fucking take her?” he screamed into the night, “i would’ve done anything, i just wanted- i just needed one thing,” 

he took a step forward, looking down from the sky to the rocky water below, and you took a tentative step closer, as if you could help anything. “i’m gonna come find you,” he whispered to the night, voice raw from his screams.

with that, he took the final step forward, letting go of the railing and falling to the water below. he went silently, no screams, no more tears. he was getting what he wanted, after all; a chance to be with you again, to make things right. 

strange as she appears to be

oldest friend invisibly

she brushes my hair with a physical hand

lowers my body down to the land;;

a scream ripped its way out of your throat as he fell, and you jumped after him without a second thought, frantically searching through the dark water for him. he was on the rocks near the shore of the river, eyes open, blood and water soaking through his clothes. “oh, sammy,” you cried, at his side in an instant, wiping the bloody strands of hair from his forehead, “oh, what have you done?”

“you’re here,” he whispered, voice thin, “i was looking for you, i-” he paused to cough, blood trickling from his lips as he did, “i’m so sorry i left you alone,” “you can see me?” you ask softly, still smoothing his hair, as if keeping him soothed would keep him alive, “sam, i’ve been here this whole time. i never left you, alright?”

“knew i felt you,” he smiles as much as he can manage, white teeth stained by blood, eyes full of tears, “knew you wouldn’t go without me, baby,” “you gotta get up, sam,” you plead, “gotta find your phone, call an ambulance or something, okay? you’ll be okay, you just need some help,” 

“i don’t wanna be okay,” he grabbed your hand, and you were nearly brought to tears when you could feel the weight of his grasp on your skin, the warmth of him, “i’m so tired, i just- i wanna go, please. i’m ready to go,” “you have so much to do,” you say softly, voice thick with tears, “you can’t just give up, you have dean, you need to find your dad,”

“i have nothing ahead of me,” he whispers hoarsely, his eyelids starting to fall closed, “i’m so tired, baby. i don’t wanna keep fighting. just stay with me until i go, please,”

beneath the ledge in the morning mist

she kisses my eyelids and my wrists

wake to the bleeding of the blade of thе sun

returning to my oxygen;;

you grant him his one last wish, sitting at his side, one hand in his hair and the other enveloped in his own, until the sun starts to rise. he tells you as much about the search for his dad as he can muster, though his injuries make it difficult for him to speak at all. you take it all in, drinking up your last moments with him. 

as the sun starts to rise, the blood on his skin glistening in the light, he pulls you closer, as strong as he can manage. “i hope we’ll be together,” he murmurs, “i wasn’t a good enough man to go to heaven, but i-i’ll do whatever i can to end up with you,” 

“you’re the best man i’ve ever known,” you say softly, kissing the tears from his cheeks, “if you get sent to hell, i’ll come down there and get you myself, hm? you’re gonna be okay, sammy,” you hope he takes it like a promise, that he’ll find solace in it, some last semblance of peace.

sam winchester dies in your arms, the last light in his eyes fading as the first light of day rises. he dies with a peace he’d never known in life, safe and secure, lulled to his final sleep by the woman he loved in life and will continue to love in death. he dies with a fleeting thought of dean, the brother he’d do nearly anything for. the one thing he couldn’t manage was to live without you.

[alexanderwales]

Movie Review: Subservience

I did actually end up watching Subservience. I had absolutely no preconceptions going into it, but ... man, bad movie. I will admit to having watched this one on a second monitor while playing a video game, but I don't think that really impacts my reading of it.

It turns out that it's an erotic thriller, and specifically, a type of erotic thriller that I'm not sure has a name, but which I'll call "man ruiner". These were all the rage in the early 90s before petering out, and I've seen it called the "woman from hell" genre, though this is a somewhat more specific subset that would exclude movies like Single White Female.

Basically, there's a hard-working but horny family man, a woman comes into his life and seduces him, he either cheats on his wife or resists temptation, then the woman goes psycho and attacks his family, his wife, and him, before dying, with the man having learned a valuable lesson and reconciled with his wife.

Fatal Attraction is the ur-example, and there aren't that many of them, even if there were enough that people got sick of them. Swimfan is a bad movie, but I have the impression that it's the most recent one people really remember.

Often the woman in question is a subordinate of some kind: a nanny, temp worker, an assistant, someone who is, in theory, in a position of much less power than our male lead. Sometimes, she's young. Sometimes real young, like creepily young (The Crush).

The psychological impetus for this kind of movie is male desire. It's playing on a male fear of a "moment of weakness". One of the key features is this inverted power dynamic. The woman is the aggressor, not just when we get to the thriller part, but as we're ramping up. The woman might be a maid or teacher or employee, but she's on the pursuit almost from the get-go, and her obsession is what drives the plot.

So this movie is just like all of those. Our protagonist is a construction foreman whose wife is in the hospital with a weak heart, and he's taking care of two little kids on his own. He hires a hot robot maid/nanny, played by Megan Fox, who basically immediately begins acting inappropriately. She eventually sleeps with the main character, but when she does, he has basically as much deniability as he possibly can while she pushes through his weak resistance. I'm pretty sure a movie like this will always have that structure, attempting to preserve the man's "virtue" and make him into a victim of the woman and her wiles. These movies are always sympathetic to the man even as he makes his "mistake".

The fact that she's a robot woman is immaterial until like ... act three. She could have just been a maid he hired until then, and virtually nothing about the plot would need to change. There's a half-assed B-plot about robots taking over a construction site and automation taking jobs, but I never felt like they were taking that seriously, and I doubt anyone in the audience was thinking that either. It didn't tie in well with the main plot.

There's fuck-all explanation for why the robot maid goes psycho, except maybe that it's part of a bad batch and our hero had her do a minor memory wipe so she could experience Casablanca fresh without her pre-programmed spoilers. This somehow gave her root access. I know that sounds stupid, but I swear that's like half the explanation they give.

This movie, and others that are in the same subgenre, come from this sort of anxiety about having power over other people, and especially being attracted to people we have power over. It's a horror story whose moral is "don't fuck the nanny" or "keep it professional with the secretary" or "absolutely do not chat up that sixteen-year-old" or just "don't shit where you eat". I think that these are good morals, but I feel vaguely gross about wrapping them in eroticism and presenting the people these horror stories happen to as the victim. The roles are almost always reversed in real life: the protagonist of this sort of movie is in a position where he's far more likely to be a perpetrator abusing a position of power. It's still a plot I can get behind, if they execute well (by this I mean, sell me on the mistake, sell me on the allure), but this one didn't.

(There is at least one example of an opposite-gender version of this basic plot, 2015's The Boy Next Door, which features Jennifer Lopez as a teacher who sleeps with a teenage student in a "moment of weakness" and gets her life wrecked when he goes obsessive stalker on her. 12% on Rotten Tomatoes. I haven't seen it but the trailer is the whole movie.)

So a bad movie, overall. It sadly had nothing to say about artificial intelligence or our relationship to it. It doesn't even really have much to say about these characters, and their relationship to each other, and the ethics of fucking a robot maid. There is a genuine lack of subservience. It's the kind of movie that makes me want to write a better version of it, something that gets at its actual themes more than it did, making better use of the conceit. But I felt no desire to absolve this man of his sins, and I think that's also one of the central fantasies the film offers, so maybe if I ever attempted to write a "man ruiner" film I would end up getting it wrong.

[grievedifferent]

PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP MEME 0.2. accepting !! // * @bedlamology (read more length)

bold for things i could definitely see or want, italics for things i could see or am unsure of and striked out for things i don’t want or cannot see.

in my instance, i tend to leave things 'untouched' that i am also open to or could see, but not enough to note (if that makes sense).

romeo + harlow

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other 

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based off circumstance  /  based off professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other 

[the-busy-ghost]

Me normally: Let people love what they love

Me, after a Test Match Special commentator expresses their belief that the new All Creatures Great and Small is somehow "better" than the 1978 version: This is pure insanity and TMS can no longer be trusted on anything, how can they even be trusted to know about cricket, do they have no TASTE