#she had to Get Over Things and Not Internalize Them to survive. and as a byproduct she doesn't hold many strong feelings.

[henbased]

3, 7, 12 for jude bls

3. What’s their style like? (Clothing style, hats, gloves, masks, etc.)

boring. bootcut jeans and tees or wife beaters (ha. get it. cuz joseph is her wife and she--). plain shoes, maybe the boots for her uniform because you have to buy your own uniform and those boots are hundreds of dollars.

she's never had much of an eye for style. in college she dressed like a college-aged woman who parties, but in the same vein of style she has now. it's just been simplified.

7. What are their thoughts on the cult?

good question! i dont know :)

12. What’s the region they feel most connected to? 

the whitetails is where she went first, and thus spent most of her time, and then after the bombs dropped, new eden as we know is in the whitetails, or at the base of it. whatever. even if her story does not follow new dawn at all, new eden does exist, and she lived there for a decade. seeing it back in it's original whitetail mountains is disorienting and she does not like it. WHERE is her blue water and ominous fog. oh there it is. out of the corner of her eye like an apparition.

[birchtreecat]

so yall know that writing site where if you stop typing for more than a few seconds it deletes everything? yeah i decided in my sleepy ass state to write adarumi bc good god. the yuri is so doomed. anywho here it is. anything unpolished or not making sense I blame on the fact this was a 30 min frantic write <3 disclaimer of these characters are not mine but @vh-intern and @the-outlet-kohane-pharmacy !!! ____________________________________________

Rumi was a major in medicine. Ironic, considering where she was now, helping Moon with the pharmacy. She had gotten into medicine to help people- and she knew she had wanted to help someone- but who? Could she really be helping people, when these trial medications hurt so much?

Then Ada came along. Cheery, ever energetic Ada. She had started her own branch of the Vitamin Kohane pharmacies, technically making their businesses rivals. Yet, the moment Ada had walked in, Rumi fell. There wasn't even a pining phase- they met, they skipped being friends, and immediately swept eachother off. Ada had been the one consistent good thing, the one person Rumi wholly, fully trusted.

And now Ada was on the verge of death. Whoever hurt her still hadn't been discovered, but Rumi didn't care about that yet. She had just come back after weeks of being in this weird, coma induced state. Technically, Rumi shouldn't even be able to do this, overpower the screaming voices that took control of her body, her words. They say love conquers all, but she didn't think it was this strong. The thought made the sight of Ada barely breathing that much more painful. What twisted god, if they even existed, played with their lives like this?

The voices in Rumi's head wouldn't shut up. They were constantly yelling, bickering like children. Only one seemed to be even slightly friendly- and even then.. Rumi hated how loud the voices were. How they spoke of her as if she wasn't even there, how they made it so she couldn't remember anything. Yet the moment the news came, there was only one thing on her mind.

Ada.

I need you to live.

I just got you back

I'm sorry

Ada.

Ada.

Ada.

She had to hold herself back from sobbing even as her girlfriend seemed to try to communicate in her otherwise unresponsive state. The way the metallic clinks from her wound filled Rumi with a longing to make it all better, an urge to give anything if only just to see Ada alive one last time. She'd even go through hell and back, go through Moon pilling her again just to see Ada smile at her.

Truly, it was an oddly funny feeling of despair that overpowered everything else. The way she wanted to laugh at the fact that now both of them had faced death in the eyes. Would she have survived without the thought of Ada? The agonizing pain, followed by silence and tears as the voices barged into her head, shattering all serenity she'd come to know. The one thing that had kept Rumi going was Ada. How she couldn't bring herself to give up on her love. The way they held eachother every chance they got, the way she smelled and how her hugs were tight and soft and warm and felt like home. In another world, would they have died together? Would they find eachother again and again? Or would they only get this one chance, this one universe- that constantly seemed to push one of them twoards death at every turn. Had Rumi died in the backrooms of Moon's pharmacy, would she still feel this gaping hole of dread in her chest? The sense that it was all over, that there was nothing left for her but misery now? Would the voices still be crying and mocking her in her head? Or would she at least be free to welcome her girlfriend into the heavens with open arms, free from the voices that have tortured her for two weeks now?

Even as everyone left, Rumi stayed. She had control for now, and she was going to spend the entirety of it by Ada's side, just in case. She didn't trust the medicine of the Pharmacity anyways- if her experience was anything to go by.

As Rumi knelt by Ada's bedside, she didn't care if her knees would be sore after hours like this. She didn't care if she wound up getting sick from whatever was oozing from Ada's wound. All she cared about was making sure her girlfriend was alive- and that she'd know Rumi had been by her side for as long as she could have been. The same way Ada had left voicemail after voicemail checking up on Rumi, she'd now do the same for Ada. She didn't care how long it would take, they WILL survive this. Together. They had to.

Ada had to live.

What else would be worth it?

The silence of the room was getting overbearing. Rumi thought for a moment before tapping her dreams onto Ada's palm. The beach date they'd always yearned for, how she wouldn't be able to swim and Ada would probably convince her to get in the water anyways. The video games they had planned to play together, building and fighting side by side, story by story. Their apartment, filled with fairy lights and soft blankets among their studies. She felt her tears come, and this time she let them fall. Gods, what was she going to do without her? How would she bounce back without her sun?

[irndad]

Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-

Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹

Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.

my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k

“Is Maeve okay?”

It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 

She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 

Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 

She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?

It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 

He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?

“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”

She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 

“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”

She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 

“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”

It’s only then she frowns. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”

“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 

“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”

“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 

“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”

“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“

“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”

“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”

A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 

She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 

Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 

Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 

And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 

“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”

Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 

Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 

“You’re important to me.” 

She has no idea how much. 

Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 

“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.

Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 

The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 

He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 

[twice-inamillion]

The Company 

Slave Contract

Smut and Angst (Slave contract, idol turned sex toy, accepting fate )

Chapter 18

3890 Words 

(Miyeon becomes the CEO’s newest assistant and gets trained in her new role. Four idols learn about the consequences of signing contracts without knowing what’s in them. Future sex toys?)

It’s been a few weeks of hard work with setting up the survival show. Luckily, my new assistant, Miyeon, has been a great stress reliever.

After that first night, she was sore for a few days, but you kept her busy in other ways. At first, she was hesitant, asking me if this was really something she had to do. You asked if she read over the contract and said she slightly did but mainly browsed through it when signing. 

“You should have a copy; look it over and ensure you know about your duties.” 

It took her a few hours to go through everything, and with your explanation, she realized her actual fate, “So I belong to you then?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“I read you can even breed me if you wanted to.” 

“I could, but we can put that on hold if you like. You only need to help me out with some things.” 

“Like what?”

“I also want to make your former group members into my toys.”

Miyeon’s eyes widened from your statement. She was just with them not too long ago, and now she’s being asked to betray them so you can use them for pleasure?

“What you need to do is tell me some things about them. If they sign a contract like yours, I’ll take some years off it.”

Miyeon hesitates and thinks for a while, knowing she can’t return if she does this. 

“So what’s it going to be?”

“Okay, what do you want to know?”

———

“Jieun set up a meeting with the four girls. I want to meet all of them.”

“Of course, I’ll tell them to come later today.”

All the information Miyeon shared about her former members helped you set the perfect conditions for today’s meeting. You’ve always had a dream to claim a whole group for yourself. You know that you’ll have a set of four toys to play with at the end of the day.

It’s your last meeting of the day. Jieun is talking to Jennie and her group mates about the meeting and its possible lasting effects.

Jieun looks at her device and sees your message about letting them in.

“The CEO is ready for you.” She opens the door, and they walk in. 

“Oppa, you’re here to see the CEO?” says Lisa.

“No.”

Rose then speaks up, “He’s the CEO.”

“No, he’s Oppa; he helped us with moving in. A CEO wouldn’t do that,” said Lisa.

Lisa looks at you with an innocent face, waiting for your reply. “Rose is right; I’m the CEO of the company.”

“But we hung out together,” whined Lisa.

“Lisa, he might have his reasons,” replies Jennie

“Jennie is right; I do have my reasons. I aim to scout for talent and potential and put them into a group. I want to create an international girl group. As CEO, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to do that, but as a staff member, I’m about to see someone’s true personality. I want to debut you four as a girl group really soon.”

The four of them look at each other in excitement. Hearing about being a worldwide star seemed out of reach, but it is now possible. “Would you four be interested in the girl group I plan to create?” 

Lisa is the first to say yes, “Of course, oppa! I want to perform all over the world!”

Rose imagines herself on stage, singing music she composed to millions of fans worldwide, “I…I would love to as well.” 

Jisoo replied, “I, too, want to be in a group with them.” 

The three look at Jennie, who looks at you and replies, “Of course, I want to stay with my members forever!”

You then reply, “Great. I’ll make you four into worldwide superstars!” 

They giggle amongst and hold each other’s hands at the exciting news.“I plan on creating my personal label, and I’m interested in you four joining as the first group.” 

Jennie asks, “What’s the difference between it and the company?” 

“Priority and privileges.” 

Jisoo, confused, asks, “What do you mean by that?” 

“I’ll be personally working with you and providing you with all the best things. That includes clothes, jewelry, and deals with brands and magazines. I also plan to have a separate building for music recording, training, etc. You all will have access to the best, no compromises.”

The girls can't help but smile at the idea of having access to the best. Rosé's dream of being a musician is closer than ever; she must make this happen. “I want to do it.” 

“I assumed this was the case, so I prepared a contract for each of you as a group contract. I’ll talk to each of you individually since this will be an important decision.”

Jieun escorts all the members to individual rooms, so you can gather your thoughts before the meeting. After you’re ready, you call for the oldest, Jisoo. 

“Come have a seat, Jisoo.” 

Jisoo sits, looking nervous with the two of you alone.

“We went a bit over the group contract earlier, but I want to review your individual one this time. Is there anything you’d like to add?” 

Jisoo is already thankful for the opportunity to receive all the support from the company. She doesn’t want to overstep and get greedy, “No, I think I’m okay as it stands.”

”Are you sure? I remember reading in your profile that you wanted to be an actress. Am I right?”

Jisoo shyly tilts her head forward and replies, “Yes, I wrote that down when I joined as a trainee.”

”Are you still interested, or have you given up on that dream?”

There is a slight hesitation, “I want to sing and perform with my teammates, but I still want to be an actress.” 

There it is, the hook. “I can make it possible if you’re still interested.” Jisoo’s ears perk as she hears your words, “Really? How?”

The two of you talk for a while until you reach an agreement. Jisoo immediately signs the contract without a second thought after promising to support her as much as possible. Your only condition is for her to agree with your choices without a second thought. 

——

The next one you talked to was Jennie; she was much easier to talk to, and you could get straight to the point. She sat before you, “I’m going to be real with you; I want you and your members. Not just as artists but as my toys.” 

Jennie slides the contract to the side, “So this is what this contract is about… I can’t blame you; my members are cute. Is there someone you have in mind?”

“Rosé. She has an amazing voice, and her desperation to become a singer is such a turn-on.”

“She did say she’ll do something to become one, but the only issue is that she’s into girls, not guys.”

“Won't you think that would be better? Rosé tossing her interests to the side, that’s something I would love to see. I want to make her my plaything.”

Jennie bites her lip at the idea of her member being corrupted, “you know she’s a virgin too; well, everyone is except me, of course,” says Jennie while sticking her tongue out.

“You must be proud, huh.” 

It’s true; Jennie is proud of herself. With her by your side, she knows that her chances of being successful are much better with you. “Of course, I love being your toy babe. It’d be even better if you make all of us into your toys; just imagine playing with us whenever you want.”

”You know what a guy wants; you’re so bad.”

”I want to make sure you’re well taken care of.”

The two of you continue to talk; she even provides some ways to make the girls agree. 

———-

After Jennie, the next one was Rosé; she sat in front of you and asked, “Were you serious about introducing us to the international market?”

”Of course, with your talent, I know you all can succeed. I mean, with your voice, it's a guarantee.”

You see the sparkle in Rosé’s eyes; her dream of becoming a singer is closer than ever. “So, where do I sign?”

You pull out the contract, “This right here is your individual contract. It states the expectations from both parties, which is the label and yourself. Read it over, and if you want to add anything, let me know.” 

Like her members before her, she just skims through the contract and asks, “Would it be possible to invite my parents and sister for my debut?”

”Of course, they are more than welcome to visit you. If you want, I can fly them over. I remember you mentioning that your sister is pursuing law, right?”

”Yeah, she’s still in college and looking to intern at a firm in Australia. You know that she’s been so supportive of me becoming an idol that I really want her to see my debut.”

”If that’s the case, then I promise you to make sure your whole family sees you on your special day.” 

“I promise that you won’t be disappointed; I’ll make sure that our group becomes the best group,” as she picks up the pen, singing her contract. 

———

Lisa, the maknae of the group, was the last member you had to meet. It didn’t take much convincing and only asked to be given the creative freedom to make choreographies and a space to dance. 

“You really got us, oppa. Or should I call you CEO-nim?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I’ll call you oppa.” 

“I’d like that.”

She smiles and asks, “Where do I sign?��

———

It’s been a few weeks since the members signed their individual contracts. It didn’t take long for them to see the immediate effect, such as a new apartment with rooms of their own, access to the new building, and other perks.

“Unnie, congrats on your internship!”

“Thanks, it all happened so suddenly. I can’t wait to spend some time with you.”

“When do you fly in?”

“In a few weeks, they even gave me an apartment and are paying for my accommodations.” 

“Really? That’s great. What firm are you working with?”

“That’s the funny part. I’ll be doing my internship through the Samsung group but will be in one of their subdivisions.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I got an email saying that they were looking for great talent and received a recommendation. I recently finished the acceptance process and will be signing the contract. The best part is that if they like me, they might offer me a job and pay for law school. I’m so excited, Rosie!”

Rose is more than happy to hear the good news from her sister. She’s been so supportive of her dream to become a lawyer; now it’s her time to cheer for her. The only thing is that she can’t shake off a feeling that something isn’t right, but she quickly puts it to the side and continues her talk with Alice.

——-

“Hello, mom, how is everything back home?”

“Everything is wonderful, Lisa. We have had some good news recently.”

“Really? What is it?”

“Remember how your father was thinking about expanding and was looking for investors for his restaurant?”

”Yeah, I do. He wanted to open up a new place, but it was expensive if he wanted to do it in the middle of the city.”

”Well, your dad found an investor. They want to invest in not only one restaurant but probably two or more. They want to remodel this one and expand the size. Your dad is so happy.”

”I’m so happy for him. He’s been working so hard these past few years.”

”What about you, sweetheart?”

”Good, I think coming to Korea was a great choice. I can’t tell you much right now, but I’m happy where I am. My group members make me feel at home.” 

————

All the members gather in your office, the four of them excited for the weekend to begin. 

“How are you four doing?”

Jennie responds, “Great, we have had a free day today, so we’ve been resting after a busy schedule.”

”Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting you all during your day off.”

The members nod, “It’s okay; we still have Saturday and Sunday off. You must have called us to say something important,” says Jisoo. 

“Yes, I wanted to ask how you four are adjusting to your new life?”

Rosé responds, “I love the recording and music room. I’ve spent most of my time there.”

”For me, it’s the practice studio; it’s so nice and spacious, I love it,” says Lisa.

”What about you two?”

Jennie responds, ”Jisoo and I like our new apartment. It’s nice to have our own space.”

Jisoo nods, “I agree with Jennie; we like the new apartment. Thank you so much.” The four of them slightly bow, thanking you for their new perks. 

“That’s great. I want to make sure that my future worldstars are given the best. Since you have tasted a bit of what I’m giving you, I think it's time for you to return the favor.”

The members were surprised by your comment and asked, “What do you mean?”

“The favors, remember. It’s in the contract you all signed.” 

Rosé responds, “I don’t remember seeing it.”

Knowing this was bound to happen, you pulled out a copy of their contract. You flip through the numerous pages until you reach the section you want to show them. “This is the part. It clearly states that you all are required to provide me with services on a regular basis in return for the perks you receive.” 

Rosé, shocked, says, “What kind of favors?”

With a straight face, you reply, “sexual favors, of course.” 

Rosé, Jisoo, and Lisa look shocked at your comment; Rosé stands up and tries to leave when Jennie grabs her hand, stopping her. “Don’t.” 

Rosé looks at Jennie in a serious expression and takes a seat. “Why didn’t you say anything before our contract signing?”

“I told you to check multiple times. You’re all adults.” 

Jisoo asks, “Is it possible to remove that part out?” 

“It’s possible, but that would mean you are breaking your contract.”

Rosé then asks, “Is that going to cost a lot?” 

“In simple terms, yes. The cost of a breach in the contract is a lot, plus the cost of room and board, food, training, and other expenses can be in the billions of won.”

They all look at each other, trying to figure out what to do. They don’t want to give their bodies as payment; it seems so wrong, but the cost of paying large amounts of money also seems too much.

“What if we can pay you some other way?” says Lisa.

“Listen, I’m going to be frank with you all. I want you four, so I’m going to give you an hour to think about it. I’ll step out and come back, so expect an answer.” 

You stand from your chair and begin to walk towards the door, “Just remember that this will have a great impact on both your personal and professional life,” you say before exiting.

The four of them finally get a sign of relief with you gone. They stay silent, taking in what just happened a few moments ago. 

Jennie breaks the silence, “What do you all plan on doing?” 

No one answers; instead, Jisoo stands up and looks around your desk for anything that can help them. She moves the mouse off your computer, causing it to turn on. She sees a folder with the initials of each member, “Girls, come here.” The members stand up and circle around the computer. Jennie grabs the mouse and clicks on the folder with her name to see basic information and a copy of your contract. “Nothing helpful.” 

Suddenly, something catches Rosé's attention when she notices a fold named “Alice.” She grabs the mouse from Jennie and clicks on it. There are multiple files, but a video recording gets her attention. She clicks on the recording, and the face of her video pops out. “Hello, my name is Alice Park. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to intern at your company. You’re the biggest employer in Korea, and interning at your company is a dream come true. Pursuing law has been a passion of mine since I was young, so I will do my best to meet your expectations. Thank you so much, and hope to see you real soon.”

Rosé can’t believe it, Alice’s employer is you? Many things run through her mind to the point it’s hurting. “Did he plan everything out? What should I do? Should I tell Alice?”

Jennie and Jisoo notice Rosè’s sister in the video and try to ask her what’s going on. Instead, Rosè stays silent, gathering her thoughts and what she should do. “Rosè, what’s going on?”

Lisa continued searching when she found a file named “Restaurant Investments.” She clicks on it and sees her dad’s picture and other documents that mention investing in his business. “What’s going on?” She sees a brief interview that mentions his reason for doing what he does. He responds that he loves the expression his family makes when they taste his food, especially his daughter. However, since she was young, she would love his food which is one of the reasons he wants to do his best. “My daughter is trying her best to make her dreams come true, as an old man I should also do something that my daughter should be proud of.”

Lisa doesn’t have to think twice, she knows what she has to do. “I’m going to make sure his dreams come true no matter what.”

An hour passes by, the four of them are sitting in the chairs as you enter the room on the dot. Rosè and Lisa look at you with an intense expression while Jisoo holds both their hands. Jennie, who is sitting in the back looks at you with a slight grin but quickly hides it when you sit on your chair. 

“I gave you four an hour. What are your answers?”

There is a slight hesitation as the four look at each other, thinking on what to say. Suddenly, Lisa raises her hand and says, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

The rest of her members' eyes widened as the maknae of the group was the first to respond. You can’t stop yourself from smiling, “Good choice.”

You look at the other three and say, “Lisa seems to have more conviction than anyone else in the group.” You look in Jisoo’s direction, “Jisoo, I assumed you would be the first to say something, but I guess Lisa, the youngest out of your four, has more guts.” 

Jisoo clenches her fist, but she’s scared. There is no way she couldn’t be. “What about you Jennie?”

She lifts her head, “So you’ll keep your promise and make me known worldwide?”

”Yes, there wouldn’t be anywhere in the world that won’t know your name.”

’Okay, I’ll do it too. I’ll do whatever you want, even be your personal toy.”

Jisoo lifts her head, “Jennie…” Her younger members are much braver than her. She tells herself that she needs to be the one to protect them, but instead they’re taking the reins of their future. She makes up her mind, “I…I’ll do it too.”

”Great. Three out of four.” You look at Rosé who’s head is still down, debating about making the right choice. Her answer will determine not only her future but her sister’s as well. “Alright. If I do this, you promise not to do anything to Alice, right?”

”Yes, I promise.”

”Okay, I’ll do whatever you want; just keep your promise.” 

You smile, knowing that the four women in front of you have decided to submit to you. “I’ll make sure to try you four with a lot of care.” You stand up and check out their body as they stand. “I want to make sure that you're all serious about your choice. Undress yourself right here, I want to see what I’m going to be working with,”

Their eyes widened from your request; they didn’t think it was going to happen so soon. “Okay.” Jennie is the first one to undress by first removing her blouse, bra, pants, and underwear. 

“Good girl.”

”Thanks,” Jennie smiles from your compliment. 

The other two members follow, undressing themselves until they’re completely nude. Rosé is the last one to undress, she struggles to take her panties off with one arm covering her breast. 

“Take your arm off, I want to get a good look at you.” She slowly moves her arm and puts it to the side. “There, better?”

“Feisty one. If you don’t want to do this you can just leave.” Rosé pinches her arm, stopping herself from leaving. She wants to get out of there but knows she can’t. “No, I’ll behave.”

Satisfied with her answer, you continue to walk around them, inspecting their flawless body. Each one of them have small but perky tits, a flat stomach with a cute little ass. Lisa yelps when you touch her ass, while Jennie smiles. 

“Since you all have the weekend together, how about we have some fun.” The girls don’t have to guess what you’re trying to say, they know what type of “fun” you’re talking about. “Any volunteers?”

There’s a silence, no one moving or reacting in any way. “No volunteers? I guess I'll choose the one I want to have first.” You go around, tracing your finger against their back. You feel them tremble, not wanting to be the first to get chosen. 

“I really want to have all of you at once, but I want to give you some one-on-one attention. You’re all too good, I can't make up my mind.” 

You stare and them, looking up and down as you decide on who to fuck first. You see one of them grabbing onto their arm, looking nervous. You think to yourself it's always best to pick the one who has the most to lose and make them yours.

“Rosé, I want you tonight.” 

You exit the room, leaving her standing alone in shock. She trembles, realizing that she’s going to give her body to a man. She’s never once thought about having relationships with a male, not even in the slightest. 

———

Jieun walks into the room, “Rosé, dear. Why the sad expression?  You should be happy that he chose you.” 

There’s no response from Rosé, and instead frozen in thought. 

“Anyways, I’m here because I’m going to take all you with me to choose an outfit for when he asks for you. Just remember that the more effort you put in the better the outcome,” says Jieun in a serious voice.

As they enter the room they see multiple racks of lingerie. Rosé’s eyes go wide as she figures out what she is going to wear. 

[the-offside-rule]

Daniel Ricciardo (RB Visa) - Lover

Requested: yes

Swift Series

Prompt: Daniel and international popstar Y/n accidentally get married in Vegas

Warnings: nope

Daniel woke up in his hotel room with a pounding headache, groaning as he tried to open his eyes but being blinded by the sun coming through the windows each time. He turned around, cursing to himself before his eyes widened. Y/n, the Y/n lay beside him, in just a bra. While they had met several times before and hung out with similar people, this was the last person he expected to see in his bed the morning after a race weekend. He began questioning what had happened? What had he done? Or more importantly, who had he done? Whilst Daniel sat thinking about what to say to her when she woke up, he ultimately decided to order room service and go to the bathroom to actually think.....and maybe throw up.

Y/n was awoken by a door closing quite loudly. She jumped up, looking around, her eyes had grown wife as she realised that she wasn't asleep in her room, she was in someone else's. She heard footsteps coming and turned to see who it was. "Uh... morning?" Daniel croaked, his voice scratchy from the combination of dehydration and excessive partying. Y/n grabbed the bed covers and pulled them up over her chest. "What the fuck happened?" She mumbled to herself. "Yeah, I said the same thing."

Daniel scratched his head, replying, "I wish I knew. It's all a bit of a blur." Suddenly, his eyes widened as he noticed a shiny object on his finger. "You don't think this would have anything to do with it?" He lifted his hand to show Y/n, before she looked down, spotting the matching ring. "I got married in Vegas." She was so unbelievably angry with herself. Since she was a child she dreamed of this big extravagant wedding and now she just got married in Vegas?

She looked over to Daniel as he burst into laughter. "Well, you can't get rid of me now." Daniel chuckled, his Australian accent making the situation even more absurd. "Daniel, this is not funny, I'm going to get into so much shit!" Y/n said. Daniel turned to open his big bottle of champagne as Y/n continued her rant. "You're having champagne? At this time?" Daniel walked over to the bed with a glass and sat down, handing it to her and pouring her a glass. "Why are we still here? We should go get divorced!" Y/n implored him. "You need to know where you got married first." Daniel replied, drinking the champagne from the bottle as Y/n looked on. She downed the glass quickly before grabbing the bottle from Daniel. "I need more than a glass." She mumbled, amking Daniel laugh. "I don't know why you're so upset, I'd make a great husband."

"Daniel, can we just think about what happened and then we'll get down to the details of whether or not you're a good husband?" Daniel nodded before Y/n began to think. "So chief, what happened last night?" Daniel asked, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing ache. Y/n shook her head, her expression mirroring his confusion. "I don't really remember much. We were at that bar, right?" Daniel nodded slowly, bits and pieces of their escapades starting to trickle back into his consciousness. "Yeah, we were celebrating... something." He lifted the champagne tp his lips once more before handing it over to Y/n. She frowned, trying to recall the reason behind their impromptu celebration. "Was it the points you scored? Maybe my new song got number one?"

"Maybe we just got fucking wasted." Daniel shrugged, before Y/n slapped his bare chest, making him wince in pain. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry." Y/n said. "I vaguely recall a dance-off and a questionable karaoke rendition of 'I Will Survive.'" She ran her fingers through her hair. "Oh, great," Daniel chuckled. "Classic Vegas moves." As she continued on with the possibilities, Daniel looked at the crumpled looking paper on the night stand. Daniel unfolded it tentatively, his heart sinking as he read the words scrawled across the page: Marriage Certificate - Daniel Ricciardo & Y/n Y/l/n - Las Vegas, Nevada.

Y/n's hand flew to her forehead as the reality of their situation sunk in. "Oh my God... we actually got married." Daniel let out a chuckle laugh, his mind oscillating between disbelief and amusement. "I know. I would have actually gotten you a nice ring. Maybe an expensive one?" Y/n slapped his chest again. "Yeah, it's still sore when you do that."

"Sorry, but you need to stop joking about this. It's serious!" She said. "It's really not. No one even knows." She looked to him. "We were clubbing with other drivers, surely one of them were there. Daniel went to turn on his phone, but it was dead. "Must have been to occupied to charge my phone." Daniel joked. "Yeah, getting married." Y/n replied, charging her phone. "I was thinking of starting our honeymoon." He gasped. "Are we going to have a baby Ricciardo?"

"No!" Daniel arched a brow. "Excuse me, but you would be lucky to have a child with my genes." He said, pretending to be hurt. "Yeah, and your humour." She rolled her eyes. "See? Dream team." They sat in silence for a few minutes. She expected a call from her manager at any given second. He was going to kill her. Daniel noticed how tense she was getting and turned to Y/n, holding out his hand. "Well, at least we've got one epic story for the grandkids." Y/n chuckled, taking his hand. "Yep, and a marriage certificate to prove it."

"If our managers don't call us in the next hour, they won't know and I say we go get divorced." Y/n thought about it for a moment. "I mean, if they don't know why bother? The point of us divorcing is so they get off our backs. Plus, it's broad daylight. If people see us going to the Chapel, people will find out." Daniel nodded. "So we're staying married?" Y/n smiled. "Of course. You're like the best husband I could have asked for." Daniel squeezed her hand. "Well, I say we head to the airport and get out of here." Daniel suggested, getting up. "Or we could enjoy our honeymoon with some movies?" He chuckled and sat back down, grabbing the remote control and turning Netflix on. "Sounds good. Can I?" Y/n nodded, allowing Daniel to wrap an arm around her as she leaned into him. "You're coming to Abu Dhabi, though." Daniel said. "Duh. You're going to go to the last race without your wife?"

[shinynewmemories]

The exchange between Peeta and Gale in Tigris's basement used to be my least favorite scene in the entire book. I hated how it made Katniss out to be a heartless drone whose only motivation is survival. But I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I'm now convinced I grossly misinterpreted the purpose of the passage the first times I read it. I don't think it's about Gale revealing some sage wisdom about Katniss; I think it's a revelation about how far gone Katniss and Gale's relationship truly is, and how little he understands the way she loves. AND it's about how much better Peeta understands Katniss, even in his half-hijacked state. Let me break it apart a tad to explain what I mean:

“She loves you, you know,” says Peeta. “She as good as told me after they whipped you.”

Peeta is correct on both counts. Katniss DOES love Gale, and in CF, she internally refers back to the whipping as the moment she "chose" Gale over Peeta. Peeta knew it then, and he knows it now.

“Don’t believe it,” Gale answers. “The way she kissed you in the Quarter Quell... well, she never kissed me like that.”

Correct, but it's interesting that Gale refers to THAT moment on the beach as proof that Katniss loves Peeta. Because on one hand, that WAS the first time she felt and displayed sexual desire for anyone. But on the other hand, I would argue that there was lots more evidence for Katniss's love for Peeta; "anyone paying attention" could see it. So why does Gale point to the one time things got hot and heavy between them?

“It was just part of the show,” Peeta tells him, although there’s an edge of doubt in his voice.

Incorrect, but I'll give him half credit for the "edge of doubt" in his voice.

“No, you won her over. Gave up everything for her. Maybe that’s the only way to convince her you love her.” 

Here's where Gale starts talking kinda crazy. Since when has the issue been convincing KATNISS that HE (or Peeta) loved HER? Since the end of book 1, there has never been the slightest doubt in Katniss's mind that Peeta loved her. And she's never doubted Gale's love, although she admits it caught her off guard. Does Gale actually think that if Katniss could just SEE how much he loves her, she'd have no choice but to marry him? Or does he think Katniss is holding back because he hasn't "given up everything" for her? Either way, he paints Katniss as a fundamentally untrusting and self-centered person.

Also, he implies that Katniss needs to be "won over", that she needs to be PERSUADED to love either of them... Yikes. It's like he actually believes Katniss doesn't have the emotional capabilities of falling in love all on her own.

There’s a long pause. “I should have volunteered to take your place in the first Games. Protected her then.”

Incorrect! Over to Peeta for an explanation of why that would have been a Colossally Stupid idea:

“You couldn’t,” says Peeta. “She’d never have forgiven you. You had to take care of her family. They matter more to her than her life.”

DING DING DING DING! I just picture Peeta making a ????????no??? face as Gale says he should have volunteered for him. Like?? Can you IMAGINE? Book 1 Katniss would have been screaming at Gale like "you absolute IDIOT. WHY would you throw your life and the lives of your and/or my family away. And for WHAT? MORON."

But I get it. Gale is saying this out of desperation. Because he can't say "I wish you had died in those games" (although perhaps that is how he's felt once or twice). And to be fair, if Peeta had never been in those games with Katniss, things between them now would be very... different. (shhhhh Gale doesn't have to know about the whole "this would've happened anyway" thing)

“Well, it won’t be an issue much longer. I think it’s unlikely all three of us will be alive at the end of the war. And if we are, I guess it’s Katniss’s problem. Who to choose.” Gale yawns. “We should get some sleep.”

Correct, nothing to object to here.

“Yeah.” I hear Peeta’s handcuffs slide down the support as he settles in. “I wonder how she’ll make up her mind.”

Even though Peeta is more in sync with Katniss, he doesn't presume to know how her romantic side works. Gotta respect that.

“Oh, that I do know.” I can just catch Gale’s last words through the layer of fur. “Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can’t survive without.”

So I ask: if Gale is shown throughout this exchange to be mostly wrong about Katniss's motivations, desires, and possibly her whole personality, why would we believe he's correct about this?? I think the only conclusion is that he's NOT.

I'll end by adding Katniss's opinion about Gale's assertion:

It’s a horrible thing for Gale to say, for Peeta not to refute. Especially when every emotion I have has been taken and exploited by the Capitol or the rebels.

Katniss is DEEPLY hurt by what Gale said. And I no longer believe it's because it's the truth about HER. I think it's because it's the truth about how Gale sees her, and he sees her in a very hurtful (albeit incorrect) way.

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 2. A dream of life

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: a bit of voyeurism

— WORDCOUNT: 2.4k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk

The best art imitates life in a compelling way. If it imitates a dream, it must be a dream of life. — Darwi Odrade

She confessed with regret that she did not, in fact, have one of those pain boxes. A Gom Jabbar was available in the palace and in fact was in the Harkonnen's possession as far as she knew, but that was just a poisoned needle tipped with meta-cyanide. What he was after was the… active part of the humanity test. That was only at the disposal of those sisters qualified to carry it out.

She was certain Feyd would do away with her once she explained how and why she didn’t have what he was after and prepared herself internally for death. But it never came. He paused in thought and nodded, and his cool eyes moved away from her with a shadow of sadness to them. Then he turned around, his broad shoulders clad in black exposed to her, and walked toward the table.

“You will come with me.”

He picked up a shigawire reel and shoved it in a compartment of his suit, a small pocket at the side of his chest, then walked right by her on his way out of the room. She followed obediently.

The palace was quiet, free of the usual fuss that filled it during the day — servants scrambling, scraping like traumatised automatons just trying to survive — but as they walked past the way she came she heard a violent sound from the direction where her old room was. They’re destroying my things, she realised.

Her eyes turned to Feyd-Rautha’s back once more, the smooth black of his clothes and white of his skin, and she wondered what plans he had for her. Would he be more subtle with his killing than his brother was, or… more creative? Would she be able to use the stunning word and paralyse him in time to get away? Would she have to kill him instead?

“Am I going too fast for you?” he asked over his shoulder. It was not an honest question, as she could tell from the smile in his voice.

“No?”

“Funny. I can hear you breathing.”

She bit her lip and glared at the back of his head.

They passed from the most shadowed places of the palace into the well-lit ones where snow-white lamps hung in the air. There were more guards in this area too, and she gradually realised they weren’t going to the prisons. They were going to his quarters.

“After you,” he said, stopping in front of a jaundiced pair of double doors guarded on each side by armed guards as still as statues.

She looked up at him warily as she stepped forward. He was still smiling in that cocky, boyish way, but something was incongruent. His awkward pose — not quite facing her, not quite to the side — the bent of his back as if he tried to make himself seem shorter, his arms somewhat aimless at his sides… He was trying to be polite and he didn’t know how.

She stepped inside. His room was nothing like what she imagined. The natural pale yellow of the Arrakeen stone gave it a softness that was at odds with the black linens on the massive bed. Moonlight streamed from the twin window slits on the opposite wall, and on the smooth tables lay an array of little boxes, pots, and cases left half-opened. There was a scent of ink there that cut through the modest smell of disinfectant. He’d only just moved in… He hadn’t had a chance to make the place his own yet.

As she analysed these new surroundings, Feyd stepped in and the doors closed behind them, leaving them alone. The palace seemed all the more distant now.

“My lord na-Baron?”

“Hm?” he muttered as he walked right past her, going to place something inside a drawer by the bed — the shigawire reel.

“W-what… what would you have me do?”

“You can do whatever you like.”

Her eyes slid toward the door. “Can I leave?”

She didn’t expect him to say ‘yes’, but she expected even less what he said next.

“Leave?” he chuckled, looking at her over his shoulder. “Where would you go? You’re my Bene Gesserit now.”

And he continued preparing himself for the night as if it was the most normal of circumstances. A part of her, the most human part, felt offended, but from the periphery of her mind, her training whispered to her what was really going on.

Feyd-Rautha kept his back turned and his attention on the objects in his possession — diskettes of reports he sorted for later reading, the daggers at his belt, the signet ring around his finger — and he spoke to her most dismissively and distantly. He was treating her like a stray cat he had just found and brought into his bedroom. Now he was letting her explore her new home, but he still did not dare to look at her directly, to watch her as openly as he desired. In his every move, however casual, there was nervous self-awareness. Completely opposite to how confident he’d been before he met her.

She’d served the Fenrings before, and the Atreides after them, but until now she had never quite felt owned. Still, if it was a kitten the Harkonnen wanted, that was what she would provide.

Without addressing him, she stepped sideways and turned, letting her posture loosen. Her head tilted back in a light stretch to relieve the tension of expecting death. She moved in a wide arch, slow steps, small sounds, while her fingers traced the surface of the wall for no reason in particular, just to absorb its texture.

“Why do you want me?” she asked in a low and silky voice. Seduction seldom failed with arrogant young men.

“I told you,” answered Feyd rather too quickly, his head bowed as he pretended to clean one of his blades.

“You’ve never had a Bene Gesserit of your own…”

“And it’s about time to have one.”

“Would the Baron approve?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, finally looking up at her. He smiled at the sight of her slinking across the room, dark dress trailing behind her. “Things can change, even in House Harkonnen.”

She paused mid-step to smile back at him. “Changes awaken something in us…”

He gave a noncommital hum and started walking to her, his head tilted in a thoughtful way.

“What sort of things do they teach you?” he asked. “At your… Bene Gesserit school?”

“Many things,” she said with an inviting tone. “Control of the self, the mind, the body… Understanding of history. Political strategy.”

Feyd came to a stop before her, a trepidation into his step. He walked until he cornered her in a darkened divot of the room. Standing a full head taller, he looked down into her eyes.

“What do you want to know?” she whispered.

He frowned, that strange smooth brow ridge wrinkling quite innocently, and his eyes betrayed transparent thoughts. He didn’t know what he wanted to know, but he knew he wanted something.

“What does… a Bene Gesserit do?”

“That depends on what our master wishes.”

“But what do you usually do?”

“We teach. We advise. When asked, we serve.”

“Did Paul Atreides have one?”

“Yes. His mother, Lady Jessica.”

The hints of jealousy were faint. There wasn’t much to envy in the dead… But he looked at her with that strange look in his eyes again, that speck of a little boy lost, and something in her instinctively wanted to cup his cheek, to pet him, and hold him close. She did not doubt that something inside of him wanted it too, and her body was just responding to the subconscious observation.

“Can you kill?” he asked.

“If I have to.”

“And have you?”

“Not yet.”

“In that way, I’m better than you, Bene Gesserit,” he chuckled.

And suddenly, his hand came up to grip the back of her neck. She was startled by how quick the movement was, how his body gave no tells that he would make it. A true predator. He pulled her closer, strong fingers tightening against her nape, pressing her against him. Beneath his armour, the plates of his body were strong. Every feminine part of her responded with a cascade of lust — not at the hidden hint of beauty but at the symbol of his pride. He wasn’t just a pampered princeling living through his allotted years of beauty. He brought his body to the peak of its potential. The motion pulled the veil off her head, and his eyes went to her soft mane of hair. His grip stayed firm, but his gaze traversed this new part of her as if it were a landscape, with hills and dales and quiet streams, all flowing down.

“Na-Baron,” she whispered, hand coming up to grip his wrist.

“Shut up,” he said, blue eyes still focused on her hair. “Go to sleep.” And then he let her go.

He turned from her and walked away with the energy of someone ready to run off — but there was nowhere for him to go, and his steps slowed. She watched him as she rubbed the sore back of her neck, watched how his head bowed for a moment as if he’d just woken up, how he walked toward the large square bed, how he started taking his clothes off…

He was a strange sight indeed. A broken psyche that reflected the duality present in his features — cold and frightful, soft and gentle, brutal but not so much from the absence of affection as from the presence of cruelty on top.

“Where shall I sleep?”

“Hm? Oh…” He looked around as if only just considering that fact. “Whenever you like,” he said, giving up quickly on thinking about it. “But here, in this room. You don’t get out of my sight, little witch. Not until I decide I can trust you.”

He pulled the layers of clothes off. First the armour on his back and shoulders, then the belt around his hips, and the second skin of the black suit that hugged his body.

“And… what shall I wear to bed?”

He paused and turned to look at her. His chest was as white as his face, but strong and chiselled, far less delicate. It shone with the sweat of a long day beneath the yellow light.

“Wear?” he rasped, his lips twisted in a quizzical smile. “Why should you wear anything?”

She settled for sleeping in a chair in a corner of the room. Feyd had gone to sleep completely naked, and he’d not been shy of parading his body around. She watched without fear, without shame, taking note of all the ways his muscles worked, the stretch and give of the skin, the scent of sweat, of blood.

Noting how much he seemed to like her hair, she did not cover it again, and after he fell asleep she quietly took the top layer of her clothing off. The Harkonnens were used to having their servants quite exposed, but she was not about to give him cause to think that that was what she was. If she wanted to survive, she had to walk the tightrope of perception. She had to be above him, as well as below. A knowledgeable Bene Gesserit sister, with all the guileless charm of a kitten.

She remained in her shift, a long grey piece held up by two thin straps, and used her dress as a blanket. She did now sleep but instead pretended to as she entered a state of Prajna meditation.

The secret pathways out of the room became known to her, faint currents invisible to the conscious mind. A spy hole existed in the western wall, covered on both sides by thin material. To the north, a doorway with no handle led into another room. Beyond it, sounds of restless sleeping. Three figures — feminine? Outside, the guards stood watch, but one was close to sleeping.

She was almost at the point where exhaustion caught up with her too, and like a slow receding wave her meditation ended. Her body lay relaxed and limp, head resting on her shoulder, hands folded. But with the last thread of her extended senses, she caught the taste of struggle in the room. Rapid heartbeat, frantic breathing, shifting eyes behind closed lids. Feyd-Rautha was dreaming.

Soundlessly, she slid off the chair and left her dress on it. The floor beneath her naked feet was cold as ice, it made her want to shiver, but she maintained control of every muscle as she walked toward the bed. Feyd’s body was twisted in the silken sheets, twitching, tense. Jolts disturbed his restful state as if in his mind he tried to get away from something. She could almost see the phantom trace of touches on his skin.

He slept on his front, arms thrown above his head, legs spread. His tossing made the sheets slip off his back to reveal a taut, tense expanse that ended in soft cheeks. Beneath them, the faintest hint of hairless, purpling swells and a limp length. He was so vulnerable…

As she got closer, she could hear him mutter words in a foreign language. Was that what they spoke on Giedi Prime? She could make out influences of galactic language all the way to those of the old Earth, but it was just enough to only guess what he was saying. The tone, nevertheless, was clear. He’s afraid, she thought.

She crouched at the edge of the bed where his naked foot hung off the side, her brow crested with worry. He was dangerous, she dared not touch him, and however much she wanted to wake him as a simple human kindness she wanted even more to see where his nightmares led.

With a long and frightful wail muffled by the pillows, Feyd dragged his strong beautiful body upwards, curling like a snake. He pulled his knees up to his chest and started shaking. Every now and then, his foot would kick. The sign of running in a dream. The whiteness of his body, pure and pale as chalk, the hairlessness of even his masculine parts, it made him look so fragile, so defenceless. A fascinating specimen. To think, the step just before the Kwisatz Haderach would look like that...

She let her body fall down to the floor and propped herself against the mattress, her cheek upon the bed. And she watched him, following the shadow of his dreams, for as long as the night went.

[m3talmunson]

It started with babes. Babes is completely platonic right? Nothing out of the ordinary there. Eddie was known for being over dramatic, why would nicknames -or in this case, pet names- be any different?

Babes wasn't even that over the top, so why was Steve blushing like a school girl after it was said in passing?

Steve definitely knew why, although, he was going to pretend he didn't. But he knew, about himself, about Eddie. A couple months after spring break '86 Steve had a very enlightening talk with Robin about his feelings. Towards Munson. Those completely and totally platonic feelings.

And a couple weeks later, as though Eddie was so in tune with Steve's discovery, Eddie came out to Steve at a campfire with Robin and Nance. Those two had wandered off, Eddie made some comment about "Good for Robs," before realizing his mistake. That was, until Steve said "Yeah, good for Robs," and Eddie just had to ask.

"You know about her? Y'know..."

"What? Eddie? Of course! She's my best friend."

"And you're ok with it?" Eddie was kind of shocked. Great 'King' Steve wasn't going to sick the dogs on Hawkins Local Lesbian? And it seemed like he had known longer than Eddie?

"Yeah, when you survive hell and back enough it's pretty hard to hate anyone for being gay." Steve left off the part where he was also into guys. He knew Eddie was ok with that, clearly ok with Robin, but Eddie might not be ok with being the guy Steve was into.

"Oh. Well," Eddie didn't know if it was the couple beers he had downed, or his newfound safety with this big ol' group of misfits, but he was comfortable asking Steve, "What if I was like Robin too?"

"Are you?" Steve asked. He wasn't going to get his hopes up over hypotheticals, but he could admit he had feelings for the older boy. He wasn't sure what feelings to be honest,but he was figuring that out as he went. He just knew they were more than platonic.

"Well, technically I'm the opposite of Robin, y'know. Not attracted to women. But yeah, I am." Eddie stared into the camp fire, torn between hoping that it would eat him alive, or that it would simply stare back.

"Okay, thanks for trusting me." Steve responded, plain as day.

He had asked Robin, if someone were to come out to him (granted they were not just drugged by Russians), what would she have wanted to hear. And he finally got the chance to use it, seeing the way Eddie's shoulders dropped in relief.

"So you're like actually ok with it?"

"Like I said, been to hell and back with you, who you love doesn't mean a thing over that."

" Yeah," Eddie said,"But most straight guys don't like it when gay guys flirt relentlessly with them."

"We'll keep that one between us then, won't we?" Steve wasn't entirely ready to correct Eddie on the straight thing, so he just didn't acknowledge that part. He chose to ignore the blush rise on his face, blaming it internally on the heat of the fire.

He also tried to ignore that at that point, the nicknames picked up.

It started with babes. Then baby, which made Steve's brain flutter. Then sweetheart. Eddie only used that one when he wanted something, and yet Steve still loved it. Stevie was one of the fan favorites. Not really a pet name, but used just as lovingly as one. Sometimes Eddie held out the end, in a sing-song voice. Made Steve weak in the knees. Eddie knew what he was doing.

It was babe that made Steve do something about it. Eddie used sweetheart, baby, Stevie, around everyone. In front of the kids, on his various trips to Family Video (whether to buy or annoy, who knew). But babe. Babe was just for Steve and Steve alone.

So of course, the only logical order of events was for Steve to start using them back.

It started with babe, the obvious choice. Fight fire with fire, or whatever. The meaningless pet names ended with babes too.

Because after Eddie kissed Steve to shut him up, they suddenly had meaning.

[devoted-horror]

giving the new survivor hatch.

a/n: this is my first time writing for dbd in general, so!! i hope i do this game justice bc i play it every day lol

includes: the huntress, the trickster, the ghostface, the artist, the cannibal.

warnings: not proofread, typical dbd stuff like blood, mentions of murder, things like that, gn reader, love at first sight but only if u tilt ur head and squint really hard, inconsistent length, im going to be so delusional over jiwoon im sorry, i can't speak russian or korean so i just used a bunch of translators sorry if i got smth wrong, inaccurate behavior of dbd crows but relatively accurate behavior of irl crows i think, scream reference in danny's part bc i had to, reader injury in jiwoon and danny's parts, written over the course of a few months so sorry if the pacing is weird.

THE HUNTRESS

Anna has been in the fog long enough that every face of everyone she's ever killed has started to merge together into one. She doesn't know their names, and hardly ever reacts whenever she encounters a new survivor.

Mercy is not something she shows during trials. She is a hunter, and anyone who crosses her path, be it man or animal, is her prey. Nothing in the wild is merciful.

And you were nothing more than another person for her to hunt, prey for her to kill. And trust me, she was going to kill you.

Or, at least, she was.

And then you dropped a pallet on her. Now, normally, Anna would get very angry when this happens. Her prey is fighting back, and though it gives her a thrill, it's annoying. And for a brief moment, she did feel angry the moment the pallet hit her.

But then you were apologizing, a look of genuine guilt on your expression. You even asked if she was bleeding. Your survival instincts were lacking, clearly, but Anna found that to be... oddly endearing??

She felt a surge of protectiveness spark within her, something she had never felt during her time here. It was a familiar feeling, yet one so foreign at the same time.

But how could she not feel such a way when you were staring up at her, clearly scared that she was going to hurt you yet brave enough to stand in front of her and apologize for something that, by all means, you should have done.

Anna just stares you down for a long moment, having an internal struggle with herself on what she should do with you. Ultimately, her need to protect overruled her need to hunt, because after breaking the pallet between the two of you, she made a gesture for you to follow her.

And, not wanting to die, you did.

She took you to a shack, something you've heard other survivors refer to as the killer shack. The only reason you knew this is because you were told to stay away from it unless you wanted to get put in the basement.

She just pointed to one of the corners of the building, and looked over at you, "Оставайся здесь." And you didn't immediately understand her, though you were quick to pick up on what she was telling you. It seemed as if she wanted you to stay here.

Your safest bet on surviving was doing what she said, so you just nod and awkwardly place yourself in the corner she had been pointing at. She doesn't spare you another glance as she leaves you alone.

You're not sure how long you stayed there. You could hear the other survivors screams though, and you felt sick to your stomach at the sound of them being hooked and sacrificed to the Entity. They probably won't be too happy about this the next time you see them...

It was only when you were the last one standing that Anna came back to retrieve you. She found you exactly where she had left you, and even though you couldn't see her face due to the rabbit mask, she seemed rather pleased that you had actually listened to her.

If she had it her way, Anna would keep you by her side. Unfortunately, it doesn't work like that. The Entity would probably force the trial to end if you didn't either escape or die.

She begrudgingly brought you to hatch, the black mist pouring from it, silently promising safety if you jumped into it. You stared at it, confused about what it was, and that protectiveness she was feeling only seemed to grow stronger when you looked up at her for an explanation. The only explanation she offered was a slight gesture to you, and then the hatch.

"Иди, кролик." She says, lightly pushing you to the hatch and watching as you hesitantly decide to trust her, jumping into the hatch and leaving her alone as the fog comes and places her back in the Red Forest.

If she's lucky, she'll be in a trial with you again soon.

THE TRICKSTER

He'll immediately recognize you to be new. He prides himself in recognizing every survivor he's encountered, either by their face or by the sound of their screams. Mostly their screams.

And he certainly didn't recognize the scream he heard when one of his throwing knives ricocheted and hit you while he was chasing down another one of the newer survivors; Sable. It was a small, startled scream, nothing worth his attention, but it was new. That was enough to make this trial more exciting, and he found himself keeping his eyes peeled for you.

Which... was a lot easier than he expected it to be, because you just kept running right into him. Seriously. Did you not pay attention to your surroundings? Do you think he's a survivor?? Do you not see the bloodied fucking bat he's holding???

He's not sure if he's annoyed or amused by this. Partially both, to be honest. It's amusing to see you relax for a split second after bumping into him, not recognizing him to be the killer immediately. It's annoying because he'd like to hear you scream, please and thank you.

Jiwoon doesn't necessarily target you during the trial. To be honest, he's trying to weed out the other survivors before focusing his attention on you.

He wanted to take his time with you, to see what sounds he could pull out of you before the Entity forced the trial to end. Just the sound of you gasping whenever you bump into him has his mind racing.

This was honestly enough to keep him motivated throughout the entire trial, a certain bloodlust sparking in him. He relished the sound of everyone else's screams, but they weren't appealing to him right now.

He needed the other survivors out of the way. He needed you alone. And when he finally got rid of the last pesky survivor, the fun began.

And when he corners you in killer shack, he really didn't plan on being merciful. He wanted to hear you scream, and then he wanted to kill you, really. That was his plan.

The only way you'd get out of this alive is if you beg, honestly. And I mean beg. On your knees, crying, pleading, offering something in return for your survival. That sort of begging.

You were new and shiny in comparison to all of the other survivors, and maybe it's because he's a sadistic bastard, but he really does adore the sight of you on your knees, crying as he absently nicks your skin with one of his throwing knives.

This is where Jiwoon feels a bit torn, truth be told. He's never been a patient man, so he wants to get as many screams out of you as he can before the Entity forced the trial to end. But at the same time, he knew he'd see you again in a future trial, sooner or later.

It wouldn't hurt to prolong his time with you, would it?

The entire time he's pondering this, he's dragging the blade across your skin, relishing in the sweet sounds of your gasps and whimpers, and you stutter out a desperate 'please'.

Ultimately, Jiwoon decides to be nice, just this once. He'll mutter a quiet, "짜증나..." before hoisting you over his shoulder and carrying you off.

You struggled, obviously, assuming he was ending your misery and taking you to a hook. He didn't really mind much, having an iron grasp on you that kept you from wiggling free.

He dropped you right next to the hatch once he found it, finding your small pained sound to be adorable as you look at your salvation with a confused expression. But before you can crawl into it and escape, he's grabbing you by the back of your shirt and pulling you back a bit.

For a moment, you think he's going to kill you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, expecting pain. But nothing comes. You feel him tuck something in your shirt, and he lightly pats your cheek, cooing a bit at your terror before he lets you go and leaves you alone.

And when you're back at the campfire, you find a photo of Jiwoon neatly folded and tucked into your shirt, signed with his autograph.

He'll have an encore the next time he sees you, and you can only hope you don't find yourself in a trial with him again any time soon.

THE GHOSTFACE

Would actually never give you hatch under normal circumstances. He's here to kill, so kill he shall. He treated you the same as any other survivor when he first saw you, though it wasn't until he was in chase with you that he realized how interesting you were.

For one, you were... surprisingly good at looping him?? For a newbie, he was rather impressed. That's not enough to get him to let you live, but it's definitely a start.

No, his interest is only truly piqued when you start quoting horror movies during chase.

Honestly, if he didn't know any better, he'd think you to be flirting with him. A person after his heart, truly.

It was only when he had you cornered that you really caught his attention. You weren't scared, and it intrigued him as much as it annoyed him.

He was just itching to dig his knife into you and take a photo of your lifeless corpse once he was finished. But even with your life at risk, you showed no fear.

Hell, you even mocked him.

"No, please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel."

Sure, you weren't the first survivor to mock him, and you certainly won't be the last, but he found you interesting.

Oh, he needed to kill you. He needed your photo in his collection, it would be his favorite.

But he thought it would be more fun to humor you. Danny was a patient man. This isn't the first time he's drawn out a kill.

You were honestly surprised that he had left you alone. You didn't think that would actually work, and you were... a bit concerned, actually. None of the other killers you had ended up in a trial with during your short time here has entertained you the way Danny has, and you're not sure if you should be scared or not.

And, much to your very hesitant relief, you didn't see him for the rest of the trial. You knew he was watching you though. Every once in a while, you just felt... you're not quite sure how to describe it, but it almost felt as if you were being hunted.

You'd see him from the corner of your eye though. Never for long, just quick flashes of his screaming mask. Honestly, you felt less scared when he was actively trying to murder you.

That's how the rest of the trial went for you, at least. Until eventually, you were the only one left standing. You may be new, but the other survivors had given you the rundown of what to do if you were the last one standing before the trial had started.

You had to find hatch. Which was... easier said than done, truthfully. Especially since you weren't sure where the fuck Danny was. There's no way he was letting you go, right? He's probably saving you for last, right?

Whenever you so much as caught a glimpse of something moving, you were scurrying in the other direction.

This is pretty much Danny's way of giving you hatch. There's no way he'd give it to you directly, not yet.

You had honestly thought you had found it all by yourself until you were fucking stabbed, the flash of a camera in your face blinding you.

Truth be told, Danny did plan on killing you. He had wanted to give you a false sense of hope. But your stupid little smile when you saw hatch got to him, okay? So he'll settle for this for now.

"You owe me."

And he doesn't even spare you a glance as he pushes you into the hatch's mist, his gaze intently focused on the photo of you he had just taken.

Unfortunately for you, you've caught his attention.

THE ARTIST

Carmina is one of the more merciful killers you may come across, so she'd be fairly likely to give a new survivor hatch depending on how the trial has gone and whether or not she's consumed by anger.

She only realizes that you're new to the fog when her crows surround you and you don't try shooing them away. When she finds you, you're actually... rather content having a murder of crows surrounding you.

Very very confused. She'll probably just stare at you for a hot second as you go about the trial without a single care for the crows swarming around you. Even the crows are confused.

You distract her long enough with your antics that a good chunk of the gens pop, and she had to force herself to leave you be in order to focus on hunting the other survivors.

She'll ignore you for the entire trial after she leaves you be. Her crows can keep watch for her.

So for the rest of the trial she's only vaguely aware of your location, occasionally stopping once in a while to determine whether or not her crows were still with you. They were.

Even the other survivors seemed confused by your behavior.

On the rare occasion that she bumped into you during the trial, it was always when another survivor was nearby trying to tell you how to get rid of the crows.

You never even tried to shoo away the crows throughout the entire trial, and at some point, they stopped swarming around you. They didn't go away, no. You, somehow, managed to tame Carmina's crows with little trinkets that you found littered across the place.

Honestly, the crows seemed to like you enough that even if Carmina told them to hurt you, they probably wouldn't listen to her. It's hard to believe that you were a new survivor with how calm you were about everything happening.

It's probably that calm nature, coupled with your ability to calm her crows, that solidified in her mind that you were the only one who would make it out alive.

And with a newfound determination, Carmina sacrificed the other three survivors with no issues, and she could hear hatch opening not too far away from her.

With the help of her crows, Carmina was able to easily bring you to hatch, and she could only tilt her head to the side and make a small, croaking sound as you smiled and thanked both her and her crows before jumping into the hatch.

This is one of the many moments Carmina laments no longer being able to create art. She'd love to immortalize the image of you smiling at her, surrounded by her crows.

THE CANNIBAL

Bubba is honestly torn when he spots you, because you look so afraid, cowering in fear at every little sound and struggling to repair a generator like the others had told you to. He understands your fear because it's something he's very familiar with.

And while he has a job to do, not wanting to disappoint the Entity, he can't help but find it hard to hurt you. No matter how hard it was, Bubba had no choice.

But when he approached you, you didn't run. Sure, you let out a startled shout, the generator blowing up in your face as you stared up at him like a scared animal, quietly begging him not to hurt you.

But you didn't run.

How could he hurt you when you weren't running from him? Everyone always ran. But not you. You weren't running from him, and he didn't know what to do about that.

Bubba's trouble was so very evident. He's always been an expressive person, so it wasn't hard to tell that this was stressing him out. His free hand kept clenching and unclenching his apron, and he kept making small noises in the back of his throat.

He doesn't want to disappoint the Entity, he doesn't. But he's not sure if he can hurt someone who's not running from him. You aren't running! He really likes that! The only people who never ran when he was around were his family!

The nail in the coffin is when you, even despite your fear, took a chance and set down the toolbox you were holding. You... you gave him a gift. Not one that he could use, but a gift nonetheless.

There was literally no way he could hurt you now the guilt would eat him alive. So, he just opts to leave you be to instead focus on the other survivors. He wouldn't feel guilty hurting them.

The entire trial, Bubba focuses all of his attention on getting rid of the other survivors. If he sees you, he gets all nervous and can't even look at you for long without babbling incoherently before scurrying away.

Some of the other survivors may pick up on Bubba's strange avoidment of you, and may even use that to their advantage by running by you in chase because Bubba just... he can't hurt you, I'm sorry.

He's swinging his chainsaw, and then suddenly Kate is running by you and he's coming to a full stop out of fear of accidentally hurting you.

It really stresses him out, and even though you're still scared of him, and even though he's supposed to be killing you, you can't help but feel bad. So whenever the other survivors got a little too close when Bubba was chasing them, you always made sure to stay out of his way.

It's okay to be a bad teammate because it's Bubba.

Jokes aside, Bubba takes his job as a killer very seriously. He may avoid hurting you, but he makes quick work of the other survivors.

And when hatch opened right next to Bubba after killing the third survivor, he took it as a sign from the Entity that he was meant to give it to you. Why else would it open next to him?

Bubba was ever the gentleman when he brought you to hatch, guiding you to it carefully and making sure you didn't trip on any debris littered across the area.

He even scared off a few judgmental crows! He knew how off-putting it was to have them watching you all the time, especially when you're new in the fog.

And when you quietly thank him, smiling at him as if he weren't a killer, Bubba was just over the moon.

It's been so long since he's had someone to protect. The fog is a scary place to be but he'll do his best to make it a happy place whenever you two are in a trial together.

Оставайся здесь. - Stay here. Иди, кролик. - Go, rabbit. 짜증나. - How annoying.

[seat-safety-switch]

By now it should be apparent to everyone that I have a particular hatred for airplanes. They're like buses, I complain, in that someone else drives them and they're boring, but they cost five hundred times as much.

Thing is, I'm trying to better myself, look at my biases, get over my long-held hatred for a fellow internal combustion engine. That's why I decided to enter into flight school for the day, in order to get a better appreciation about planes. Sure, it cost a lot of money, but that's why rich people leave their credit cards in their cars when they think I'm the valet.

My initial training went well. Nobody suspected that I was a secret car driver. I soon realized I was not alone: out in the parking lot were several other cars. Nobody had brought their own plane to plane lessons.

Soon, I was ripping up the skies in a Beechcraft Bonanza. Sure, I could have picked an airplane that wasn't renowned for being an unreliable dentist-killer, but it looked very lonely sitting there on the very ass-end of the tarmac with weeds growing through its canopy. Also, I think my savvy choice impressed my flight trainer, Aerial "Anne" Anderson, who now knew that she was dealing with someone with poor impulse control. And if I've learned anything from Hollywood, it's the reckless hot-shot pilots with poor impulse control that survive to the end of the movie and get to ride a cool sport-bike.

So, how did it turn out? Not great: I blew my cover. After I made a successful landing, I started driving ("taxiing," because it costs a lot of money) the plane to Arby's. I wanted to pick up some Bacon Beef 'N Cheddars for the rest of the class to ingratiate myself: we all know they are the secret food that all pilots crave from their godlike perspective in the skies above us mortals. Turns out it doesn't fit in the drive-through for shit. Fuel economy wasn't great either.

[paulic]

Ok this is what I think the biopics will be like for each Beatle:

John will be so troubled but in a really charming way and Julian will be mentioned but briefly and they’ll make it seem like John was just too busy to be a present father (Paul will make up for it in a vomit inducingly cheesy way). His eating disorder, heroin addiction and other internal struggles (self-esteem, sexuality, maybe even gender,…) will go unmentioned or brushed over jokingly like haha he tossed Brian off, don’t we all at that age. He’ll be the cool and funny older brother & later genius who just couldn’t be confined within a band. They won’t have the guts to call his bullshit and therefore will automatically brush over his kinder and vulnerable sides. He’ll be reduced to a knock off version of the tortured artist blueprint. They’ll never pick up on his pathetic wet dog vibe

Paul will be the charming good guy who’s all in with the band. No mention of how he fucked over Jane and every other girl until Linda; he’ll be a musical genius, too, but in a prince of the people sort of way. They’ll loooove that he stopped eating meat, woke king!!!! Linda will be brushed over by making her into his soulmate wifey who finally helps the charming playboy with a heart of gold settle down. His depression and alcohol problem won’t be mentioned/reduced to feeling a little sad. He’ll be a little bossy sometimes but they won’t ever get it right how fucking annoying he could be. Straighter than a ruler. John’s brother, almost biologically. No homo. They’ll find a way to make the twink who fucked the entire population and had an ego bigger than Neptune into a straight feminist

George will be the indie underground smart Beatle and people on tik tok will start posting thirst traps of the actor with the caption “they don’t make em like this anymore” and then complain about real-George’s teeth. He’ll be so spiritual and smart and he won’t have an affair with his best friend’s wife at all and if he does it’ll be because of some spiritual insight, not because that man couldn’t keep it in his pants for 5 seconds. I’m deadly afraid of the colourful drug scenes where he’ll hallucinate god. He’ll be the perfect boyfriend and Pattie will be played by Sidney sweeney or something. They won’t take a side with the whole George Or Paul debate during the breakup, but George will be too focused on other things to want to stay in the Beatles. They won’t mention the three billion songs John&Paul deemed unworthy. They’ll never do the grudges my man held justice. No one could

Ringo will be the funny guy who luckily survived his childhood and found his passion through a kind nurse giving him his drumsticks. He’ll play an incredible drum solo at 8 years old on his hospital bed frame the first time he ever holds those sticks. He won’t be in gangs, he won’t beat his wife half to death, he won’t have drugs and alcohol problems. He’ll be peace and love from age 0. He’ll be slightly stupid and he’ll mention octopuses too much. They’ll never get it right how he was truly the eldest and how much his vote and opinion actually counted within the band and how much the boys wanted him in the band and admired him. He won’t be a sort of glue to the band. He won’t marry a teenager he met when she was 16 and he 22. He’ll be a weird version of Ken from the Barbie movie, his job will be Drum. They’ll flatten a severely nuanced and layered man to a sheet of paper with the word ‘beat’ on it

I am too afraid to even think about what they will do to Eppy

Oh and each and every one of them will have way too pretty teeth and I am already furious. I want them to have British men in the 1960s teeth. Give me British teeth and jerking off together

[donnapalude]

i find something very interesting in what the show has done with claudia's ambivalent relationship with truthfulness, honesty, narrativisation, and storytelling.

claudia is, by and large, depicted as someone that feels some distaste at the idea of embellishing emotional truths by providing too much context, reasoning, or justifications for them. she is not blind to the existence of these things and in fact she is quite a good judge of character. but i believe she perceives it as a weakness to feel the need to organize them in a self-created narrative in order to give some meaning to life events. it feels deliberate that she enjoyed storytelling when she was younger (see, her semi-mythology about angels and devils) and then stopped after her father made her stare at the boy (who called her an angel!) she loved and killed while he was burning. i think she knows, from then on, that a story has no power and it changes nothing. to keep telling it would feel like intolerable self-deception. she would not disrespect what happened by painting a pretty picture about it and, from that point, she never does again.

this mindset, i believe, is also compounded by growing up around two parents extremely inclined to narrativisation as a method of obfuscation. she is perceptive enough to correctly guess this tendency stems from a fundamental inability to face their respective realities, although in almost opposite ways. lestat seeks to control his internal reality by attempting to warp his external one. which is to say, he lies to others to manage their perception of him because he is unable to deal with feelings of insecurity and rejection. louis seeks to control his external reality by attempting to warp his internal one. which is to say, he lies to himself to manage his own self-perception because it's the only way to survive the awareness of the coercions that society (and his various families) put on him. regardless, i think claudia sees how vacuous their attempts are in avoiding pain to themselves and others and she despises them for it. both for lacking the courage to do away with the attempts and for not being able to make them work (secretly, maybe unconsciously, it would be good to have some faith back).

at the same time, claudia keeps writing multiple diaries, loves theatre and loves acting. the diaries seem to become less cinematic over time and she is aware that when she watches a play or she is on stage there is no truth being tarnished, the story is all that exists. still, her intense search for these alternative forms of narration reads to me as a residual longing for the power of storytelling. it's no coincidence, i think, that in order to kill lestat, who had been initially responsible for destroying that belief and who she feels all-powerful, she needs and dares to tell herself one more story: the one about the vampires in europe that will love her, if she can just get through this. apart from that, i think theatre and her diaries represent the last refuge where she can relive the illusion that telling stories has some meaning and some impact. which makes it particularly cruel that the stage is then used as a place where stories become powerful again and they are deployed to first trap her and then kill her.

given all this. i think it's fair to say that claudia usually strives to be both truthful and honest: even the lies she concedes to telling are usually not flights of fancy but stick close to the truth. and they are borne out of a pragmatic need for self-preservation, not a desire to avoid uncomfortable realisations. she makes, overall, an heroic attempt to bear both her internal and her external reality, without trying (unless it's a matter of survival) to forcibly control them, but just accepting them and doing her best with them. the issue with her reasoning i feel, is that, while narrativisation can be a form of deception, it is also in many ways the only mean of creation of a sense of identity. i guess this point is debatable according to the philosophical tradition one draws from, but i would personally argue there is no ontological stable self that exists outside of our own perception. what exists are our thoughts and actions. and "identity" is the net that ties them together, created by the dialogue between the narrative we weave over them and our own reactions to that narrative. the moment the self begins a self-referential recounting, it is already in the realm of intrepretation. which does not mean truth and honesty don't have a role in this: there is, i believe, honesty in recognizing and accepting our actual thoughts and feelings and actions. but after that, their interpretation is always a truth created.

there are two consequence to this for me. the first, is that it becomes evident at some point that an abandonment of any recounting leaves you bereft of lies but also berefts of truths. claudia has no real tools to make sense of her interiority. in the few brief scenes where she explictly talks about her feelings regarding her traumatic experiences, she is merely able to make a list of facts and stark sensations. her conclusion about the "collision" in her, her sense of brokeness, being "i don't know". her conclusion over the retelling of her assault being simply "it fucked me up". i see in her a deep difficulty in re-elaborating her feelings and connecting them in a unitary vision, which deprives her of the possibility to consolidate an assessment over the impact of events on her identity and build something new on it. the second, is that her diaries by nature cannot escape being a form of narrativision. at least to some extent. even if she tries to describe "reality" as close as possible, the moment she puts pen on paper and decides which stories to tell and how, she is creating her own intrepretation. so yes the diaries are technically a truthful source, but the concept of truthfulness is not so uncomplicated that we can equate it to mean "objectively reliable".

as a final consideration i will say that i find claudia profoundly moving and brave in her decision to never close her eyes before life, and in the end, even before death. and even more so because hers is not a meek, passive stance. surrounded by liars and cowards, she is smart enough to see that truth is a very powerful weapon against people that can't bear it. when these people hurt her, she has no need to warp reality to hurt them back: she just puts them before themselves and lets them macerate in their own reflection. and this commitment to the truth stays with her until her final act and then transcends her in some way: as she fades, for once, it's lestat that cannot close his eyes.

[cameronspecial]

I Will Slap You, Rafe

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Mean Y/N, Mentions of Sex and Birth

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: Pregnancy doesn't look so great on Y/N and Rafe, but good thing it's almost over.

Masterlist

Rafe isn’t going to lie. Pregnant Y/N is a scary Y/N. She’s a lot more moody and demanding than his usual angel is. Any little thing can make her snap and he has been walking on eggshells for almost nine months. His family would say that Rafe is just as unbearable. If they thought he was doting on Y/N before, then her being pregnant showed an even more overbearing side. Rafe helps rearrange the pillows on the couch and places about ten blankets over top of Y/N, who is getting ready for a nap. “Are you warm enough? Are there enough pillows?” he frets over her, rearranging one of the blankets that is slipping off. Sarah chuckles, “I think she has enough, Rafe. She could survive in the North Pole with how many blankets you have her buried under.” “I would never let her be in that situation,” he barks. How could Sarah think that he would let anything happen to Y/N? “Would you two shut up? Cranky woman trying to nap here,” Y/N complains, turning on her side to sleep. At least she doesn’t blame her pregnancy for her mood. Rafe rushes to her side, “I’m so sorry, Angel. Sarah and I will go in the kitchen.” Rafe kisses his wife’s head and forces his sister into the other room. 

The siblings talk in whispered voices after being scolded again by the pregnant woman. It’s been about an hour and Rafe has started to get his angel’s snack ready. A piercing yell causes both Camerons to dash to the living room. “Angel, are you alright? What’s happening? Do you need a massage?” he cries out, rushing to her side. Sarah follows in worry for her sister-in-law. They find Y/N hunched over with her hand on her stomach. She glares at them, “No, you dingus. I’m going into labour.” 

Rafe’s face flushes and he turns to his sister. “Get the go bag, please. It’s in the nursery. I’ll get her in the car.” Sarah nods and runs off to do as asked, while Rafe picks Y/N up bridal style and brings her to his truck. Every bounce of Rafe’s rushed manner intensifies the pain shooting through her body. “Slow down. You aren’t trying to win a race. We also have to time the contractions, dumbass,” she critiques between her screams. Rafe starts an internal timer in his mind at her scream, “Right, thank you for reminding me. You are so smart, Angel.” He places her in the car and she glowers at him with another yell. “I don’t care how smart you think I am. Get me to the damn hospital before I do it myself,” she growls. Rafe is quick to get to the driver’s side, texting Sarah to meet him at the hospital. 

———

Y/N and Rafe got to the hospital a little earlier than medically required and the staff were almost not going to let them into a room, but Y/N’s angry demeanour and Rafe’s money-slipping hands caused the staff to change their mind. It’s been about sixteen hours and the couple is absolutely exhausted. Finally, it’s time for Y/N to push. She had insisted on giving birth in Goddess pose and Rafe isn’t one to argue about it. “You are doing so great, Angel. I am so proud of you,” Rafe praises, smoothing her sweaty hair down. Y/N has had enough of his pampering. She’s been here for so long and that’s all she’s been listening to. “I will slap you, Rafe. Stop talking or I will have them throw you out. You don’t know how much this hurts, so I only want to hear my own voice from now on,” she snarls at him. Rafe immediately stops, instead resolving to silently encourage her. 

Rafe’s focus is between her legs, waiting for the moment his child enters the world when he feels her hand cross his face. One hand rubs his cheek, “What was that for?” “For getting me pregnant and not being the one to give birth,” she explains, squeezing his hand harder. He pouts at her words, “I am so sorry that I can’t be the one going through this, Angel. It kills me to know you are hurting and I can’t do anything about it.”

“I am never having sex with you again. I never want to go through this again.”

“And I fully support that, Angel. We can always adopt or foster if we want to have more kids.”

———

An hour later, Asher Wesley Cameron rests on his mother’s chest, sleeping in her warmth. “He’s perfect,” Y/N whispers and kisses his head. Rafe admires the new mother, “Because he is a mixture of both of us.” He takes a second before asking his next question. “Did you really mean what you said about having sex?” Y/N giggles at the worry in his voice, “Only a little bit. We definitely won’t be having sex until the doctor gives the go-ahead but after that… How else are we supposed to make this little guy a sibling?” “I thought you said you didn’t want to give birth to another baby,” his eyes twinkle as he looks at her. She shrugs, “It hurt like hell, but it was worth it. I would do it one more time even if they are only half as perfect as Asher. I do want to foster though. There are so many children that need a safe home.” Rafe’s lips find her forehead. “Whatever you want. I will follow your lead, Angel.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

[hey-hey-j]

anyway this morning I woke up with a specific thought about JD and Rhonda

post-Band Together, Branch, Floyd, and JD have just arrived in the village and Branch is letting them stay in the bunker with him for the time being. So it's JD's first night in the bunker, already he doesn't go to bed until he's made sure Branch and especially Floyd are good for the night, but when he finally settles down in his room he realizes he can't sleep—

—because it's the first night in nearly twenty years that he's spent away from Rhonda.

He's used to the constant noise of making his home inside a living creature—her rumbles and her purrs and the swaying of her movements, the slight creak of her segmentations as she breathes in. By comparison the bunker is deathly silent, the only thing coming close is the faint rumbling of the pipes in the walls, and it's enough to put JD on edge for the rest of the night, worrying himself sick about Rhonda. He just left her out there! Alone! Where who knows how many dangers could get her! Sure, she has plenty of leaf cover and he knows she's more than capable of fending for herself, having survived out in the Neverglades long before she ever found him, but let's be honest, it's been a weird few weeks for JD and his paranoia is finally starting to catch up to him something awful.

He considers going up to the surface to check on her but decides the elevator would just wake up Branch and Floyd and so he stays where he is, not getting any sleep for worry over both his specialest girl and his brothers, until eventually his internal clock decides that it must be morning by now (it's hard to tell time down in the bunker) and so he finally races to the elevator (right after a brief encounter with Branch where he runs into him in the kitchen and they mutually scare the bejeezus out of each other)

But when JD finally pops his head out from the bunker hatch the first thing he sees is precious Rhonda, just a few feet away from the bunker's entrance sheltered under a mossy tree root, already stretching and yawning and shaking herself off. And he's so relieved to see her and that she's okay, and he's laughing as he runs to her with his arms thrown open and she runs to meet him with an excited yip of her own and the way JD coos over her, you'd think it had been weeks since they last saw each other.

[linatheweirdooo]

But when I try to stand, it's like Im buried in the sand

envuzi hurt/comfort fic originally posted on ao3 but my last fic on here did well so here

If you recognise the song in the title youre skibidi

Original link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59257672

~~

"Do your job, and I'll leave you and N alone"

"right, V?"

V backed into the corner, but there was nowhere to run, no place to hide. Tears stung her eyes as she watched her best friend get ripped apart by the monster wearing Tessa's skin. There was nothing she could do but watch.

She failed N. She failed N and Uzi, how could she let this happen? She sacrificed herself to protect them, but of course she was too selfish to kill herself. Of course she backed out. Now there she was, facing the consiquences.

Why did everything always end this way? Why is it that every attempt to help them end in more suffering?

How do they not hate her?

Thoughts retreated to the back of V's mind as she was forced to see it come closer and closer to her, approaching V with mutilated corpses of her friends, the ones she failed, forced to watch, paralysed in fear. She wanted to scream, cry, anything, but nothing came out. This was her life, wasn't it?

~~

V sprung up with a sharp gasp, breaking the silence that had previously enveloped the room.

Room?

V turned to her right to see Uzi, her girlfriend sleeping next to her, and N's arms wrapping around her from her left grounded V, snapping her back to reality.

It was a dream.

She could try to sleep it off. Her internal clock told her it was 2:20 AM. But she was still shaken up by the nightmare.

It was hot. Too hot. She should get something to drink.

V carefully took N's arms and put them down away from her. He was always very cuddly, and she liked it, but now was just not the time.

Uzi was a light sleeper, so V still had to take extra care in getting out of their bed without waking her up either. But eventually, she landed her cone-shaped legs onto the ground, and made her way to the kitchen to get some oil. Uzi and N had both been experimenting with human food, making versions they can eat. V always thought it was a bit useless, she knew all she needed was oil.

Pouring the contents of the bottle into a mug, V stared at her reflection through the black liquid.

How did she get this way?

It's been a few weeks since the solver was defeated, and everyone's still pretty shaken up by it. Uzi has it worst, constantly haunted by the past. Such a powerful being constricted by her own body, and they've yet to see the effects it has in the long term.

So why was V so uneasy? Her own partners can't catch a break, she shouldn't feel like this.

No, it's too late for these thoughts. She survived this long bottling everything up with only a few breakdowns, she doesn't need to stop now. She had more important things to do. There were people she needs to protect and care for now.

V downed the oil in one gulp, eager to get this over with and go back to her partners, but something stopped her at the bathroom mirror.

Something told her to stare. Stare at herself, her body. The hands that can turn into a thousand weapons. The hair she was forced to keep short in order to be successful in combat. The vial of yellow liquid, a weapon of mass destruction. It can so easily melt and tear through flesh.

The piercing yellow eyes that were forced to stare back at her. They weren't always yellow. The solver changed them. Everything she hates about herself was because of the solver.

It didn't even think of her as a person, just a vessel to carry out its deeds. She was never her own person. Who even was she?

Her eyes trailed down to her upper left arm.

The armband.

It had a skull printed on it, a constant reminder of the job she has to do. It had a barcode on it, too. But V eyed something else on it, a string of letters and numbers: her name. Her real name. Serial designation V-X00100000. Next to it, her model type.

CYN-MYKX

Cyn. The poor host of the solver, V's enslaver. The reason she's like this. It only saw her as a tool, didn't it? She wasn't a drone capable of emotion, just a weapon.

She was never her own person. She wasn't her own person as long as she has that armband.

She needs to take it off.

Hands swapped out into claws. Another reminder of what she was made for. Bladed fingers approached the yellow fabric, tugging on it. But she couldn't bring herself to rip it off.

What was the problem? She's trying to but her body just won't let her. V wants this thing off her but can't bring herself to do it.

When did these tears find their way onto her face?

Knees shaky, V fell into the floor, desperately clawing at her arms with razor sharp talons. Who cares if they got damaged, it wasn't even her body anyway. Oil dripped onto the floor as she took in a shaky breath and choked out a sob that was building inside her, but still attempting to shush herself. The last thing she wanted was to be seen like this by the most important people in her life.

~~~

Uzi was always a light sleeper. Hearing a faint, muffled sob from inside her house was enough to wake her up.

Bleary purple eyes blinked awake. It took a few seconds for Uzi to focus on the environment around her, but when she did she noticed something. V wasn't there, despite the fact she was sleeping in the middle that night. At least, that's what she thinks she remembers.

She tierdly lifted herself off the pillow she rested her head on, to check if V may be somewhere else on the bed, only to be met with the sight of a sleeping disassembly drone. But it wasn't V, it was N, her boyfriend. There was still some warmth in between them, though.

Uzi put two and two together to come to the conclusion that V got out of bed recently, for whatever reason.

This can't be good. She had to tell N of their girlfriend's disappearance. Shuffling closer to him, Uzi rested a hand on his shoulder and softly shook it in an attempt to wake him up, but quickly stopped herself.

He looked so peaceful. Only a few weeks ago she would only see this sight in her dreams. So much has happened, but he can finally rest now.

Her hand released its grip on N. She shouldn't wake him up. She can check on V herself. V was strong and brave, she probably isn't hurt and Uzi's just overthinking. It's not worth waking N up too.

With her mind made up, Uzi followed the faint sobs that woke her up in the first place, and worries clouded her head again.

It was when she saw the bathroom door cracked open that she stopped in her tracks. She heard faint sobs that were clearly not intended to be heard, and hyperventilating that got worse the closer she got to the bathroom.

"V? Is that you?" The worker quietly asked through the gap, not walking inside to give her girlfriend some space. But when the only sound that came back was a hushed sob, Uzi was left paralyzed. Whatever's happening, is she qualified to help out with it?

She shook the thoughts away. Her girlfriend was having a moment, she should at least try to help. The door slowly opened, complimented with a soft creak, and Uzi poked her head inside to a sight she wished she didn't get to witness.

~~

N didn't know what it was, but something felt off. His optics struggled to make out his surroundings at first, but he quickly realized the arm he was previously hugging wasn't there. V wasn't there.

V always shuffled around in her sleep a lot, he wasn't surprised she wriggled her arm out of his grasp somehow. But, there was also a lack of warmth on the bed too.

"Uzi? Is V-" his optics had fully adjusted to the dark when he cut himself off. Uzi wasn't there either.

Reluctantly, N got out of the bed. It was late and he was tired, but he definetly can't just fall back asleep knowing neither of them were there. What if they got hurt? They're still pretty shaken up about what happened a few weeks ago (and admittedly, he was too).

But he was more worried about V. Unlike Uzi, who has learned to open up to both her partners, V was clearly trying to hide the way she truly feels. She always hid her true emotions. N just wished she could be more open to him and Uzi, so they can help her. So she doesn't break at the seams again.

Walking down the mostly empty hallway (they had still just moved into their house, there isn't any furniture or decoration yet) N's "eyes" took note of the slightly illuminated wall. It didn't take a genius to figure out a door was open with the light on.

Upon getting closer to the source of the light, he heard quiet sobs.

Once he reached the door, N peeked inside. There was oil everywhere. On the floor, on clothes, even caked onto the faces of two drones. One purple, one yellow.

Uzi and V.

They were on the floor, V had her claws out and was evidently the source of the sobs. She was still wearing the same old jacket she's worn for ages, but evidence of all the abuse it has gone through littered the fabric in the form of rips, tears, scratches and oil stains. But some of them were new.

~~

V bit back some more sobs as she noticed her other partner has found her. N must've not realised he was staring, but to V it was just another pair of eyes watching her, judging her, degrading her for comitting the crime of existing. She wanted to disappear from the face of Copper-9. So much has gone down.

She was sitting on the floor, her knees to her chest, hyperventilating. So defenseless. So weak. No wonder the solver chose her as its victim. It promised she'll be free, but even in its death, she hasn't broken free of its shackles. When it's not controlling or manipulating V, it was watching her in her nightmares, in the empty spaces in her new house, in the mirrors she looked at herself through.

"V, please. Stop hurting yourself" spoke a voice too comforting for her to deserve it. V couldn't even register who said it.

"V?"

Her vents quieted.

"Can you look at me?"

Hesitantly, golden tear-filled eyes met purple ovals. She bit back another sob.

N sat on the floor next to Uzi, with his hand hovering over one of the wounds V's claws were still in the middle of branding her casing with.

He didn't speak, but demonstrated to V what he wanted to her do when he switched over his hands for claws, then back to normal again. He wanted her to switch them back.

V just stared into his eyes and slowly shook her head, digging her claws deeper and drawing more oil.

"V, please." Uzi made eye contact with V again, but this time V removed her claws from the oil stained plastic forearms she was digging them into, but still hovered them over her wounds.

"Can you switch your hands back to normal for me?" The worker asked oh so tenderly; absolutely not the tone V deserved to be spoken to in.

Newly built up tears made their way onto V's screen. She can't. She still hasn't been able to remove the arm band. She still hasn't punished herself enough for the things she did. She's still alive. The solver will be haunting her as long as that remains a fact.

She can't take it anymore. It's like something snapped inside her, but all the tears came back stronger. She didn't want to cry, and an effort was clearly made, but it was too much. She lodged herself inbetween N and Uzi, wrapping her arms around both of them and sobbed hopelessly into the gap between them.

V's sobs were strained, she clearly didn't want them to escape her mouth. But she just couldn't hold them back. It's like every time she blinked back tears in her life all came back to her, stronger than ever. She shook and trembled, as a seemingly endless stream of tears burned her screen.

N was taken aback by the sudden hug, but then wrapped his arms around V's frame, with Uzi following suit.

Uzi didn't care her clothes were soaking up her own girlfriend's oil. It was about time that old hoodie was put out if its misery anyway.

V's sobs eventually died down, getting replaced with awkward yet comforting silence. As she hugged her partners, clawing on the fabric of their clothes. She needs to make sure they're actually here and this wasn't another cruel trick.

Eventually, she broke the silence with two words.

"I'm sorry"

N pulled his head away from V's to look at her, but still stayed in the embrace.

"Don't apologize. But, are you able to tell us what happened?" N's voice was slightly scratchy considering he still had just woken up, but V could still hear the concern in his voice. Robo god she didn't deserve either of them.

"It's stupid" she reluctantly replied. She isnt used to being vulnerable, to saying how she felt. It was a habit she wants to break but it was so hard after years and years of bottling everything up.

"Don't say that. I don't blame you for breaking" Uzi eyed the ground, trying to find the correct words to say.

"These last few weeks have been so hard, and yet you were there for us when we needed someone to talk to"

"I think you deserve that outlet, too"

V's eyes locked with Uzi's when she said those last few words. Uzi has seen first hand the things V has done, how could she deserve it? Uzi and N are good people, she had to comfort them. She loved them. But she didn't deserve that same treatment.

"I don't think I deserve it"

"V..."

"I hurt so many people, Uzi... I hurt you and N... I don't deserve to have the two of you helping or comforting me"

Uzi frowned upon hearing V's response.

"V, N and I met by trying to kill eachother, I killed so many of my classmates at camp. OH, and let's not forget the time I tried to kill you later that day, too."

"Uzi, that's different-"

"No! Because at the end of the day, all three of us have done some messed up shit. But if N and I deserve love anyway, you do, too, V"

Silence fell over the polycule after Uzi's little speech. V tried to argue back, but couldn't find any sufficient arguments.

Uzi was right.

V let out a sigh, and breifly interlaced her fingers with both her partners'... and then found her face heating up. A beat passed before she threw a friendly punch at the purple drone.

"You dork! You don't get to make me feel sappy!" V playfully scolded her girlfriend. Uzi couldn't help but laugh at the sudden change in V's demeanor.

But as Uzi's giggles died down, the light-hearted atmosphere did, too.

"But, seriously though. You should open up a bit more. We're here to help you, we love you, why else do you think I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you and N?"

V's grin faded slightly as she came back to the reality that she still did scare her partners at the middle of the night.

"What happened, V?" Uzi finally asked her. Damn it. She wished she didn't have to say anything about the events that led up to her breakdown.

"If you're comfortable with talking about it, that is" N added.

V's sorrowful gaze reached her upper left arm. Specifically, the damned yellow tag that branded her.

"I want to take it off. I feel trapped as long as I have it" she finally admitted.

V's mind wandered, anticipating any response from them. "ALL of this trouble was caused by a piece of fabric?!". It was a pretty silly reason, she kind of expected them to get mad at her for it. But they didn't.

N let out a surprised "oh" as he remembered the meltdown he had when he tried to take it off.

Uzi cupped V's cheek and her thumb tenderly traced the surface of it. "Let's take it off, then" her soothing voice comforted.

N positioned himself on V's left, and with a precise slice of his claw, the yellow symbol of control fell into the floor.

V looked at her arm. Her arm, which was a part of her body, no longer belonging to anyone else.

She was free.

V hugged N, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"Thank you"

N reciprocated the action, his arms wrapped around V as her hair fully obscured his face. He then planted a gentle kiss on it as his fingers ran through her silver locks.

Eventually, they parted before V wiped a singular tear off her screen. One day, she'll tell them about the problems plaguing her. The nightmares, the thoughts, the urge. But for now, she savored the feeling of being at peace (or at least, the closest feeling to peace since what happened three weeks ago).

"I think it's time we head back to bed" V finally said. She hated to admit it, but the lack of sleep did take a toll on her.

Standing up from the floor, V stretched and picked up Uzi bridal style.

"HEY!"

"Can't let you forget how I usually act just because you saw me cry, toaster"

Uzi childishly pouted before wrapping her arms around V's neck.

"Bite me"

N held back a few giggles as he watched the most important drones in his life still bickering like they don't live in the same house together.

~~

After the three of them flopped on their bed, V felt two pairs of arms wrap around her waist and head.

"I'm NOT letting you leave this bed alone again" Uzi mumbled into her girlfriend's chest.

V could've gotten mad, but she found herself chuckling instead. Maybe this night wasn't that bad in the end.

Soft rumbles radiated from V as she purred in content in sync with the taller disassembly drone nuzzling her.

"I love you" were the last words V spoke that night. Though it was half muttered, both the drones it was directed at heard it, increasing their grip in their hugs.

Eventually, V's purring was replaced with soft snores as she drifted off the sleep, surrounded by the people she loved in a quiet moment of tranquillity.

[debonairprincesposts]

Stroke Inducing Grammar

Summary: Where reader loses their mind over bad grammar and Jason does his best to take their mind off it. (Seriously it’s a nightmare)

Words: 1.5k

Jason lounged on the couch, the soft glow of a lamp casting a warm light over the living room. He held a book in one hand, but his gaze was drawn to you, nestled against him. You were scrolling through your phone, your brow furrowed and lips pursed in a way that made you look like you were about to burst.

‘What’s going on in that pretty head of theirs?’ he thought, internally chuckling at your intense expression. He could almost see the gears turning and the frustration radiating off you like heat from a fire.

“Hey, sweets. You doin’ okay?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, laced with genuine concern. He shifted slightly to face you, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was causing you such distress.

You glanced up, your eyes wide with exasperation. “The grammar of this damn article is so bad that it’s physically painful for me to even read another word!” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of annoyance and disbelief. ��The terrible writing doesn’t make any sense, and it’s making me physically cringe!”

Jason couldn’t help but chuckle at your passionate reaction. It was one of the many things he adored about you—your ability to get so deeply invested, even in the little things. ‘Adorable,’ he thought.

Without missing a beat, he gently took the phone from your hands, setting it aside on the coffee table. “How about we take a break, hm?” he suggested, his voice softening as he pulled you closer to his chest. He felt the tension in your body, and he wanted nothing more than to ease it.

As he wrapped his arms around you, he began to massage the back of your neck, right under your skull. He could feel the knots in your muscles, and he focused on working them out, hoping it would help you relax a little. “Just close your eyes and focus on me,” he said, his voice a calming whisper.

You obliged, your eyelids fluttering shut as you leaned into him. Jason took a moment to appreciate how close you were, the warmth of your body against his. It felt right. He could feel the weight of the world lift slightly as he held you, and he wanted to share that feeling with you.

“Okay, so let me tell you about this one time my teammates and I got into some serious trouble,” he began, his tone light and playful. “We were all out on a mission, right? And B’s detective instincts kicked in. He decided to investigate a lead at a karaoke bar—of all places.”

You opened one eye slightly, the corners of your mouth twitching as you fought back a smile.

“Yeah, I know. What were we thinking?” Jason continued, grinning now. “We thought we’d blend in, but it turns out I can’t carry a tune to save my life. I ended up butchering ‘I Will Survive’ so badly that I think I left half the crowd in tears. But not the good kind! I think I actually lost my street cred that night.”

At that, you let out a soft laugh, the tension in your body slowly melting away. Jason felt a rush of warmth in his chest, knowing he was bringing you some joy amid your earlier frustration.

“And then there was the time we tried to do a stealth operation in a library,” he continued, his voice animated. “I swear, the librarian had ears like a bat. She caught us sneaking in and kicked us out faster than you can say ‘shhh!’” His smile widened at the sound of your giggles.

Jason leaned back, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he prepared to share another story. "Alright, babe, here's one that'll really get you laughing. It's about the time we had to infiltrate a high-society gala," he began, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"So, we're all decked out in tuxedos, right? Me, Dick, and Tim. We figured we'd blend in with the crowd and gather intel on some shady dealings happening in the upper crust of Gotham. But it turns out, none of us really know how to act at a fancy event."

You shifted closer, intrigued, your earlier frustrations forgotten.

"First off, Dick tries to impress everyone by ordering the most expensive champagne on the menu. You know how he is with his charm. So, he's chatting up this socialite while Tim and I are standing awkwardly in the corner, trying to look sophisticated. But then, Dick leans back, trying to look all suave, and—bam!—he spills the champagne all over the lady's designer dress!"

You burst into laughter, picturing the scene. "No way!"

"Totally," Jason continued, chuckling at the memory. "The look on her face was priceless. She was ready to toss him out on his ass, but instead, he just starts apologizing profusely, making it worse. Classic Dick, right? Always smooth until he isn't."

He paused for effect, enjoying your reaction. "But wait, it gets better. So, while Dick's trying to salvage his dignity, Tim decides it's a great time to show off his 'master of disguise' skills. He found this ridiculous fake mustache and thought he could fool everyone by pretending to be a waiter. He even practiced his 'may I take your order' line."

"No!" you exclaimed, covering your mouth in disbelief.

"Oh yes," Jason laughed, shaking his head. "He walks up to this group of ladies, mustache all crooked, and asks if they need anything. But instead of playing it cool, he trips over his own feet and spills a tray of hors d'oeuvres everywhere! It was like a scene out of a comedy movie. Food flying, ladies shrieking—it was chaos!"

You were practically in stitches now, leaning against him as you laughed.

"And the best part?" Jason added, wiping a tear from his eye. "The host of the gala was a known crime boss. So, when the food went flying, he stood up, furious, and threw Tim out of the event. We barely escaped!"

You looked up at him, still giggling. "You guys are a total mess!"

"Hey, what can I say?" Jason shrugged playfully. "We might be heroes, but we can't do everything right. Sometimes, you just have to laugh at yourself—and try not to spill any champagne next time!"

You chuckled again, this time more freely, your laughter a sweet sound that made Jason’s heart swell. “Are you an angel?” you teased, your voice light and playful.

He smirked, brushing his fingers through your hair. “Nah, just a guy trying to keep his love from losing their mind over bad grammar.”

As he spoke, he could feel you relaxing against him, the tension fading like mist in the morning sun. He loved these moments—the little pieces of life where he could be there for you, bringing comfort and laughter.

“Just remember,” he said softly, “sometimes you’ve gotta let the bad writing go. Focus on the good stuff, like this,” he added, gesturing between the two of you. “This is what matters.”

You sighed contentedly, your body sinking into his embrace. Jason felt a sense of fulfillment wash over him. He would do anything to see you smile, to ease your worries, even if it meant sharing embarrassing stories about his own life.

In that quiet moment, as you nestled closer against him, he knew he’d always be your anchor, ready to pull you back from the edge whenever you needed it.

Fluff. Yummy nummy.

Om nom nom

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