#she obviously took it as you would expect
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The Birdritch's Nest part 25
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âThat is a lot of plants,â Jason said. He swept his eyes over the space as he slipped his lock picks back into their little pouch.
âHe has a botanist friend, apparently, and she keeps giving him plants,â Dick explained as he squeezed past Jason and into the apartment.
âWhy are you here again?â
âBecause I have a car which is better to carry all of Dannyâs stuff in than your bike,â Dick explained. He went over to the wall of plants in front of the windowed corner and squinted down at something on his phone.
Jason pulled out his own phone to glance at what Tim had sent. âYou say âall Dannyâs stuffâ like the list was long. The guy hasnât exactly been demanding.â
âThe âguyâ expects to actually go home in a few days,â Dick pointed out.
âAnd is an adult and so can, you know, actually go home,â Jason retorted.
âDamianâs attached.â
ââŠI concede to your point,â Jason said once that thought sunk in. âDouble the clothing asked for?â
âBasically. Make sure that he has a weeks worth, Alfred can always do laundry,â Dick said before letting out a little noise of triumph and doing something over by the plants. âThere, watering system turned on.â
âCongratulations, youâre a genius,â Jason drawled. âNow go get his medication gathered up and snoop a little while youâre at it.â
âI thought we werenât supposed to be snooping,â Dick, words a teasing sing-song as he passed by.
Jason flicked him off. âLike you wouldnât anyways. I just want to know what you find.â
âOnly if you tell me what you find in the bedroom.â
âDeal.â
The bedroom was almost startlingly normal after the plant filled living main room. It didnât look like Danny really spent much time in it beyond sleeping. The bed was absentmindedly fixed, a black down comforter over pale blue sheets. There was a paperback on the nightstand next to a lamp and a pocket sized notebook with a pen clipped onto the bent and battered cover.
It was the first thing that Jason picked up.
The notebook was obviously where Danny made notes when he was already settled in bed. As Jason flipped through the pages there was everything from to-do lists to invention ideas to⊠a lot of thought about wings. Jason turned the notebook in his hands. That page wasnât in English. The language felt like it was on the tip of Jasonâs tongue but he just couldnât get it out.
Maybe some sort of dialect?
Jason couldnât actually read it, but there was enough to piece together from similarities that tugged on his memory. Enough to understand it was about the wings. Something about the process of change? Aging?
âHey Jay?â Dick interrupted, scattering Jasonâs thoughts. âCan you read the label on these bottles? Thereâs some serious printing issues happening, I canât even tell what language itâs in.â
The pill bottle felt oddly cold in Jasonâs hand when he took it from Dick, but maybe the bathroom just had shit heating in this place. It would be just like Gotham builders to mess that up.
âOh, thatâs the same thing Danny is writing in here,â Jason said passing the notebook to Dick. âItâs something about wings and getting old, I think, but I canât really read it.â
âRead it? I donât even know what it is. Gives me a headache just to look at it,â Dick grumbled as he flipped through the notebook. âThe whole bird thing has really been on his mind, hasnât it?â
Jason gave a little huff. âDo you blame him? The guy has wings now. It would be on my mind too.â
âYeah⊠guess I really canât,â Dick said and snapped a picture of the page with the unknown writing to send to the group chat. âAny idea what it is?â
âNope. Itâs like itâs a distant dialect or that it uses some of the same alphabet of something I learned some of once. Like how Chinese and Japanese use some of the same characters, you know?â Jason explained as he opened the side table drawer and then quickly closed it again. That was more than he needed to know about Danny. âMaybe something from when I was catatonic in the league, who knows. There were a lot of languages in that place.â
âCass or Damian might now it then,â Dick said as he eyed the drawer Jason had now moved away from.
âDonât, trust me,â Jason said. âDid you get the medications you needed to grab?â
âYeah, theyâre in the bag. Just a standard bathroom, really. Though he keeps his toothbrush in this old mug with a hero I donât recognize on it, someone called Phantom.â
âDoesnât ring a bell, but it sure sounds like a hero name. Add it to the list,â Jason said as he started on gathering up the requested clothing and extra enough to last a week. âCheck the closet to see if there are any shits in there that work around wings.â
Jason rolled his eyes as Dick threw the closet doors open dramatically and focused on his task. Jeans, sweatpants, underwear, what he guessed was pajamas were all added to the bag.
âSo, nothing that looks like it was made for wings,â Dick said and tossed some normal shirts and a few sweaters into the bag. Jason sighed and folded them neatly. âMaybe he hasnât had time to find any yet? It hasnât been that long since the bird thing and seems it all started there. Or maybe heâs just always home when heâs had then?â
âBetter let Alfred know then. Heâll want to get something as soon as possible.â
âYeah, good point,â Dick agreed.
While Dick stepped out of the bedroom to call Alfred, Jason took the time to double check the list. It really was pretty basic. Jason didnât know if Danny was just trying to not be demanding or if the guy didnât need much, but Jason went ahead and put the bedside paperback and notebook in the bad too. Jason slung the duffel bag Dick had brought over his shoulder (he totally could have ridden his bike like this) and took a little bit of time to snoop through Dannyâs bookcase while Dick finished the call. Sci-fi, horror, old text books, and a ton of notebooks filled the shelf with knickknacks and a few figures. Jason at least had to give Danny points for having some of the sci-fi classics, even if the range of works was pretty limited.
âOkay, Alfred is on it,â Dick said. âAnything else we need to do?â
âNah, I think weâre good,â Jason said. Something made him not want to look through the notebooks, like they had already done enough snooping. It was an odd feeling. âLetâs get going, Iâm hungry for whatever dinner is.â
âYouâre always hungry,â Dick said.
Jason shrugged rather than dealing with how true that statement was. âIâm a growing boy.â
âYouâre a trash pit.â
âYeah, you want to go there, cereal boy?â
âLeave my cereal out of it!â
---
AN: I do love writing Dick & Jason so much. Can you tell I have an older brother? Also sorry for the mistakes I'm sure are abounding. Guess who turns out to be anemic? This critter! Maybe getting that fixed will help...
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Itâs a good question but not set up to be the case in the canon material! Obviously we are having fun, but itâs backed (at least in my own contributions) by the genuinely interesting public health problems and ecological implications of hobbits.
A few reasons, behind the cut because Iâm conscious of having contributed TOO MANY WORDS across various iterations of this post already:
1. Tolkien provided a lot of extensive hobbit family trees, often with birth and death dates. These indicate large families produced by - this is important! - the same mother. Conclusions: mothers werenât frequently dying in childbirth, and early deaths arenât often recorded on the family trees. (Possible explanations you could invent for this could include things like âchildren only being recorded on family trees if they reach a certain age/milestone.â But then youâd be doing the same thing as making them all poly - adding your own imagination!)
One of the longest family lines is the lineage of the Old Took, who sired twelve children and was a shared ancestor of Bilbo, Frodo, Merry and Pippin. In addition to having âthree remarkable daughtersâ including the adventurous Belladonna Took, some of his kids met such unusual fates that they were included parenthetically next to their birth/death dates. One of this generation Took siblings actually went to sea once (but came back and lived to be like 100), one never returned from an adventure, one had no children at all (!!!) and one, Hildigard, âdied young.â Hildigardâs birth/death dates arenât given, but she was clearly old enough to have been named. Dying young was clearly significant; perhaps on the same level of notability as dying childless or dying on an adventure. However, the Old Took was famous and influential, so itâs reasonable that there be more interest in his childrenâs fates than usual, and that Hildigardâs early death is recorded for those reasons, while perhaps working-class hobbits would have just lost children without recording them.
There is only one âworking classâ hobbit family tree, and thatâs Samâs.
And while it doesnât have death dates, we do see that they all started having kids in early adulthood, around the age of 40. Samâs parents had 6 kids over an 18-year span (!). Of those, 4 achieved adulthood as indicated by marriage or career updates. Again, there might have been dead ones left off the family tree/dying unnamed, if we use that theory I came up with. or this might genuinely be all the kids Hamfast and Bell had, and Daisy and May might have died. But weâre still seeing a general pattern of couples producing more than 2 living kids.
2. The statement in canon is that hobbits have notably âlarge familiesâ, implying both lots of (living) siblings to be observed, but also something especially worthy of comment. The historical 30%-or-whatever mortality rate could certainly reduce numbers of babies like anything! but there would still have to be a LOT of siblings and cousins and big kids knocking around to create the apparently-accepted canon cultural truth of âhobbits have large families.â Then consider if they were living in a setting where it was normal for all families of all races to be affected by the same problems; they would have, say, five children, of whom two would survive early childhood. If that was expected and natural, those other people still have to turn around and point to hobbits, saying âTHOSE little buggers have REALLY big families.â
Fold into that the fact that hobbits are (for their own reasons) living in extremely functional and prosperous 1700s-1800s England, with plenty of food and tea and biscuits, and a functioning postal service - while everyone else is living in various times of antiquity, and constantly getting mown down by raiders. and it seems like it should be backwards; humans should be having huge families with a few survivors, while hobbits should only be having a few kids. What the HELL are they doing over there -
3. We do need something to actually kill off the kids. We do need some cause or factor to do it. The absolute best thing is disease, especially infectious diseases! Especially since weâve shown that we arenât seeing family-tree indications of bearers and children dying together in childbirth, which was a formerly popular way to go - letâs go for the next best thing of preventable infectious diseases! And the tricky thing about disease is that the patterns here would have to be continually carrying off medium-sized children and young adults. This would crop the population like a mown lawn, constantly picking off people before they reproduced, while allowing the overall impression of âbig families.â But this would have to be an infectious disease that somehow isnât captured in family trees. And doesnât stop mothers from bearing kids regularly. And doesnât follow cycles of epidemic or pandemic (all the families all losing cousins at once in the same year etc.) so their most impactful diseases would have to be things like consumption (tuberculosis) where plenty of people can live as carriers, everyone has different levels of resistance, and they succumb to the disease at different times. I am quite happy for the Shire to have a lot of tuberculosis knocking around. Crammed full of TB. It doesnât ever make a huge dent on the population, but it definitely hits constantly.
4. We could expect that non-infectious diseases - cancer, heart disease, stroke, diabetes, etc - should be constantly and continuously wiping out a decent number of adults - although those normally donât interfere with reproduction and donât solve our problem. But hobbit life histories as recorded in those stupid family trees are VERY annoying. Theyâre so annoying with it that in a 2022 paper intended to teach evolutionary biology to kids, authors analysing hobbits had to conclude that hobbits were probably just resistant to disease and cancer. Those stupid birth/reproduction/death dates indicate a life history slower and more resilient than humans. There probably is a decent amount of this happening anyway, but to the adults, not so much the kids. The family trees definitely and continuously imply an absurdly resilient race that really should have a huge population.
5. Kids should definitely be dying by accident a lot - drowning, falling down stairs (admittedly their architecture has few stairs) and so on. However, the culture seems to suggest that it would have to be quite a subtle continuous attrition of children. Disasters, accidents, attacks and famines are all so rare in the Shire that people literally still talk about interesting deaths a generation later. Frodoâs parents were considered completely unhinged for dying of drowning. The Fell Winter, in 2911/1311, was legendary for being difficult - in the Unfinished Tales Gandalf says:
âThey (the shire-folk) were very hard put to it then: one of the worst pinches they have been in, dying of cold, and starving in the dreadful dearth that followed.â
The Fell Winter caused a drop in population, and itâs possible that they hadnât recovered from it by the time of the books; but everyone had a lot of kids since then, and itâs still a huge legendary outlier and the worst thing that every happened to their species.
Notably there werenât many deaths in 1311 recorded in the family trees, which is obviously due to Tolkien not matching stuff up (this whole situation is about him not matching stuff up, and us filling in the gaps). But the point I wanted to make here is that disasters are rare to hobbits.
6. A possible theory is that every hobbit even tangentially related to the Fellowship hobbits has possessed a disproportionate share of luck and fecundity, so their family trees are absurd, and everyone else is just DEAD.
7. To be fair we do see a LITTLE political impact that could be attributed to having more young people than old ones. In The Hobbit, the middle-aged Bilbo is extremely conservative and concerned with reputation and respectability; the Shire is openly prejudiced against other races. But by LotR we meet a younger generation of hobbits who are very different. Some of this is possibly due to Bilbo having changed the culture a little bit (and thatâs Gandalfâs own hope and meta-explanation*) but some of it could be because of the population effect I mentioned way back - constant, ever-growing new generations being (theoretically) ever-harder to control through cultural expectations, and therefore being ever more progressive and flexible.
For this we can see Fatty Bolger - a friend of the Fellowship hobbits, who is presented as the least brave and progressive of them all, therefore elected the one staying home as a decoy while the rest of them trot off happily on a high-risk quest. Fatty casually achieves some impressive feats without worrying at all about respectability. He agrees to be a living decoy for the NazgĂ»l, escapes them on foot and raises the alarm, and later is a rebel leader in the occupied Shire. The Bolgers are in a reasonable approximation of the same social class as the Baggins family, and Fatty did this while being younger than Bilbo, but Fatty is seemingly willing to go into ride-or-die mode. Bilboâs constant personal worries and fears about âhobbits donât do that, hobbits do thisâ and âis this respectableâ donât seem to form part of the Fellowship hobbitsâ mental landscape, and even the most cowardly of the young generation is shown being active, brave, and taking initiative. By the time of Fellowship, a working-class hobbit openly declares his desire to observe other races (Samâs fascination with elves), young hobbits apparently normalise far-ranging camping trips all the time, Gandalf is a frequent Disturber of the Peace, dwarves come from all over to help out with a birthday party, and Frodoâs four best friends plan a journey outside the Shire in a spirit of helpful mischief. Culturally, theyâre more open and responsive than Bilbo portrayed them.
So itâs possible that the Shire is in a constant state of ongoing exponential growth and development and progress, and is just so obscure that nobody has noticed that yet. And THAT could be why theyâre reasonably technologically advanced and so on. Which slightly changes the flavour - but once again requires the readerâs input and imagination and research and three different sources to bring to light. So we might as well just have whatever fun we like, right? The ultimate answer is that Tolkien didnât think about it! and meanwhile he made so many statements of such confidence and such implications that they created huge numbers of attractive fanfic gaps, in which fans can nest, like cliff swallows.
At any rate, itâs all provocation and good fun. You might as well announce that hobbit family trees are a mishmash of kinship types that conceal a truly goofy amount of polyamorous activity, as try to work out why kids arenât dying more, when they really should.
* in the Unfinished Tales, Gandalf tells Pippin that he chose a hobbit for Thorinâs company partly because he foresaw an apocalyptic world war coming and wanted hobbits to survive it: he picked Bilbo to be a social catalyst to change their culture and increase their likelihood of surviving it. the Unfinished Tales arenât 100% canon, but it does seem to have worked.
Every time Sean Astin makes a statement on whether or not Sam and Frodo were indeed gay for each other in lord of the rings heâs always like âwell we have to acknowledge that attitudes around sexuality have changed dramatically over the past several decades and since authorial intent is only up to speculation, the story is open to multiple readings, some of which might have different significances for different groups of people also they kiss on the lips because I said soâ
#no YOU can write about this all day#âŠ. no YOU can write a 125k halfling silmarillion#Iâm going to tag this#weasel heart in defiance#for my own reference. no reasons.
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I have no idea how wild the fandom for Hadestown is. If you donât know me, if weâve never exchanged words, and you have BIG FEELINGS about Hadestown that any level of critique will set off, I very much encourage you to move it along. I canât do Hamilton 2 or whatever. (If I know you I will give you more leeway FOR SURE. I just want to keep strange weirdos out)Â
First, I have to provide a little bit of context: I got in on the ground floor with Hadestown.Â
Yes Doc, I too, have been obsessed with it ever since it was in previews--no, I mean, i saw folk singer Anais Mitchell perform the whole thing like 15 years or whatever ago in a converted garage venue.Â
I wasnât even in town to SEE HER, I was in town to see a different artist and this was back when live music was a bigger thing and not a dying scene, and people just bought tickets to whatever was playing on a free night. I like folk music, I liked the idea of what was then being called a folk opera. It was instant love. Orpheus and Eurydice is one of my favorite myths, I am from a rural and exploited place, I loved everything I heard, some absolutely glorious poetry going on there. Bought the concept album, forced so so many people to listen to it all the way through. Forced jetty to listen to it on our road trip! Before the musical came out even!
I have been following this musical ever since then. I kind of thought it would never get made! I followed the original version, and then the broadway one. What Iâm saying is, I have what now amounts to about fifteen or so years of history with this musical, and all the changes it has gone through, and all my individual feelings about each of those changes. My evaluation necessarily lives within that context.Â
This was part of the reason it took me so long to see the Broadway! I wanted the emotional space to feel however I felt about it, even if that ended up being, âI fucking hated thatâ and itâs hard to have that when someone buys very expensive tickets and a trip for you to see something youâve been following for years. Part of jettyâs gift of this was âAnd you can hate it!!â and I knew she meant it, because when you watch something move and be workshopped and change, you get a lot of feelings about it.Â
So I canât really go, âI liked Hadestown/I didnâtâ I mean, I have loved hadestown for a very long time. If all you wanted to hear was , âDid you like it?â oh yes! But I have at least four versions sitting my head right now, and they are all next to each other for evaluation in a way that someone who has only experienced the broadway canât have.Â
I want to provide this knowledge because my thoughts about it go so far beyond what is currently being staged on Broadway. No, this is not going to be me saying, âEverything was better with the concept album!â no, some things are, but this isnât that I promise.Â
Everything below this is spoilery
So, originally Hadestown was a slightly different story and admittedly, one that spoke to me more than the story I saw last night. It was a lot more specific in its earliest days--it was about an impoverished mining town. Hadestown was the company town, underground, and there was basically no mention of Hades and Persephone being actual gods, anything was winked to, but it was mostly about how the holders of capital have all the accountability of gods. The whole thing had a much stronger anti-capitalist framework, and Orpheus and Eurydice were basically naive kids who thought they could avoid involvement with the mine. Obviously, this very much spoke to me. It was matching my freak exactly.Â
It is not that now. And thatâs both totally expected, and disappointing to me personally. The show now is much more of a, Iâm trying to put this in a way that feels less insulting because I donât mean to be, very Captial L Liberal. Audiences who can afford Broadway tickets will eat up the vague notions of wishing for a better tomorrow and âshow the way the world could beâ and putting this back into the framework of a story of the gods instead of the utter lack of choices available to people, that the game is rigged from the start, and Orpheus even having this chance is both an exception and a test hades expects him to fail. I get why this happens. Literally every story that has ever been brought to Broadway has had to be made more palatable to a broader audience. The story it is now, is much much more broad, much more life affirming or whatever, and much more easy to hear. I think I would like it better if I didnât know the story from the very first versions.Â
But that was not a problem last night! That was a problem when i heard the previews out of Alberta! So Iâve had years to adjust to knowing that they were going to blame Orpheus a lot more. Which I love that the Broadway seems to have backed off of! The Alberta production really sort of LAID INTO THE BOY in a way I aggressively did not care for, because it was the antithesis of the story as I understood it. Love that they took that back a step.Â
Anyway, so, things I loved about the musical last night:
The staging of Wait For Me fucked SO SEVERELY that honestly it makes me forgive like 90% of the things I donât care for in the final Broadway version, that I thought were done better in other versions. I almost cried, it was EXACTLY what I would have pictured in my head after hearing it all those years ago. It was incredible. I wish I could see it again, and study it. I am thinking about it right now! It will live rent free in my head. Perfect.Â
The gal who played Eurydice has clearly listened to Anais Mitchell albums, because she sounded SO MUCH like Anais that it even took me back for a moment.Â
Iâm not sure if this is praise or a criticism:Â
I donât know how I feel about having Hermes as an overall narrator! I go back and forth on it and have since the Alberta came out. If I were going to do it I would do it differently than it is currently staged. Jetty was talking about how she loves when the instrumentals are onstage, and Iâm the exact opposite--I mostly find it crowds the stage while not bringing much interest for me. But in general, i both like it and do not like it, to give a very useful critique. I donât hate it, for sure. I love the opener for Wait For Me II. But overall I will probably need to think about it for another 15 years.Â
Frustrations I have:
 I think I have decided that even for the MASSIVE INSANE BUCKWILD flaw of seemingly blaming Orpheus for Eurydiceâs decision, the Alberta is the best version. I think I prefer the concept album on a personal level for a lot of things, but I think the Alberta is, well for starters, definitely more complete--the concept album has some massive gaps in it that desperately needed filling--but it preserved a lot of the poetry that the Broadway version seems to have stripped out while being much more mass appealing. I was particularly GALLED by the rewrite of Epic III, one of the things in the Alberta version that made me say, âWow I am prepared to forgive a lot of horseshit for this song, my godâÂ
NEVER FORGET WHAT THEY TOOK FROM YOU
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They took out "The heart of a king who loves everything like the hammer loves the nail" imagine writing that line and scrapping it, are you HIGH, fuck me running.
And I think this summarizes a lot of my frustrations about the changes between the Alberta and the Broadway. It no longer sounds like a folk opera. It has lost a lot of the poetry of the original, folk music being very grounded in lyric and somewhat less in vocal theatrics.Â
Also, and this might just be an actors thing, I did not get any sense that Persephone and Hades love each otherâŠat all. Part of the appeal for human beings named Doc who are me is that they love each other, and they canât stand each other, and I didnât FEEL that at all. Like i said this could be an acting thing--I was not overly impressed by our persephone broadly. But taking out her part in Chant II I think also really contributes to this problem.Â
This is both the Alberta and Broadway versions: I MISS THE FATES BEING A REALLY TIGHT 40s STYLE GIRL GROUP SOB SOB SOB. In the original, the fates were the only characters âoutsideâ the story, and this was indicated stylistically by the fact that everyone else was singing folk music, and they were singing in this very different style. The idea fifteen years ago was that they actually would be dressed all in that style, but yeah, none of this happens now and i find it SOOOOOO disappointing personally. I hate their stupid costumes I hate the ârougherâ style of vocals I hate it so much ahahahahha. If I was going to force Anais to change one thing it would actually be this, even though it is insanely petty and silly.Â
The best version of when the chips are down:
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I donât know if literally any of this is what you were looking for but I somehow deeply suspect not. I am IN THE SHIT with Hadestown though, so if you have any specific things you wanted to ask about or have me talk about, let me know! I am just cutting this off now because itâs already at 1700 words and Iâm not sure anyone cares that much about my journey with the only musical I can truly say I knew about when it was still a twinkle in someoneâs eye.Â
(Yeah Doc, I have a question: Do you have anything mean to say about the concept album? OH BOY DO I. Some of it is to be expected like, "Uh, Anais you need the rest of the story here girl." but a huge one is I fucking HATE that she got Justin Vernon, who you know better as Bon Iver, to do Orpheus. He SUCKS. He sounds bored the whole time because that is how that motherfucker sings. I have HATED it since day one. Reeve Carney is perfect and literally what I started my local women's prayer and casserole circle to petition the Lord for.)
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Ash, I need a bit of help. Not for me but for roommate.
She just went through a really bad day and while Iâm taking care her in being a shoulder for her to lean on, she could use some literary comfort
I introduced her to Ghost (one of my highest achievements) And her favorite is Copia. If you could please offer some of your time to whip up any short fic of him in any comforting way, I would greatly appreciate it. Doesnât have to be long, even a paragraph would be fine. Iâm not a writer so I donât got anything to write but hope you can? Maybe the ghouls and Copia doing something wholesome, anything!
Much appreciated! đ
Well, first off I would like to offer your roommate many many hugs or whatever her preferred form of affection is, and also I hope that whatever had made her day shit will pass <3
Anyway! Have some very rushed, not properly edited and chaotic Ghoul and Copia movie night fluffiness!
"Ah, my Ghou- oh shit..."
And why would Copia expect to walk into the den with anything less than sheer chaos unraveling before him?
Cirrus and Mountain were cooking, and Aether was meant to be also but had since been put on Dew-wrangling-duty so the Fire Ghoul would stop dipping his fingers in the bolognese. Swiss and Rain had their tongues down each other's throats and were borderline dry humping on the sofa while Cumulus waited for them so act more appropriately. Sunshine and Aurora were playing a very intense game of Mario Kart, and Phantom was participating until they saw Copia walk in.
"Papa!" They said as they ran to give Copia a hug.
"Ey, pipistrello (bat). How are you?" He said, obviously hugging them back and kissing the top of their head.
Phantom pulled away, and started fidgeting with the spade of their tail before they very nervously replied: "Sto bene, grazie. Come stai?" (I'm good, thank you. How are you?)
Copia beamed at hearing them getting more confident with their Italian, and returned: "Sto molto bene ora posso vederti." (I am very well now I can see you.)
Phantom gave a shy smile, another hug, and skipped back over to their game Aurora nudged their shoulder as they took their controller again, while Sunny smiled at them.
Copia went over to the kitchen and put down the bottles of authentic Italian wine he had brought with him.
"We're going to need one each after this." Cirrus said, stirring pots of spaghetti like the world would explode if she stopped.
"You are doing a marvelous job, mia cara aira. (my dear air)" Copia assured.
"C? Can you please help me with this gremlin?" Aether said as he yet-again stopped Dew from scooping up sauce with his tail, he tried this time.
"Of course." Copia smiled, putting an arm around Dew and leading him back to the sofas and chairs, where a grumpy Rain and Swiss were forcibly separated and kept apart by Cumulus herself.
"Ay, I'm a little cold here. Would you light the fireplace, Dewdrop?" Copia asked.
Dew flicked his wrist and set the logs ablaze, promptly trying to dash back for the kitchen but Copia was quicker.
"No, no, no. You're banned from there for a reason." Copia smiled, forcing Dew to sit on the ground, in front of the fire.
"But Papa-"
"No. I will not hear it." Copia said, slowly walking towards Dew and forcing him to shift backwards, and soon enough, Dew was sat in the fire, purring and content.
"Thank Satan for that fire-proof charm you put on all his clothes." Cumulus said, nodding in approval.
Not too long after, with Aether able to help again in the kitchen, their dinner of spaghetti bolagnese and garlic bread was served, alongside Copia's wine pairing which of course was perfect.
All sat and chat for a while with full bellies and drained their glasses, polishing off the bottles too.
They all had been working through films that Siblings had said were "iconic" and "staples for every human child growing up", and tonight was...
Disney Princess Movies
Many protests were heard, and all were voiced by Dew, but soon everyone was in blankets, with snacks and snuggled up. Pyjamas were always part of the dress code for these nights and that made it even cosier, especially with the fire burning too.
Dew was sandwiched between Aether and Swiss on one sofa, while Cumulus had Aurora in her lap next to them. Copia and Phantom had a sofa to themselves, and Mountain and Rain were in the loveseat next to them. Cirrus and Sunshine on a smaller armchair together, yet they made it work.
Through watching several of the films, they discovered that Aurora's voice made for a perfect Snow White, specifically during them Wishing Well song. Many a comparison was made between Dew and Rapunzel, and Copia was deemed Cinderella purely for the princess' mice friends.
"You took your shoe off on stage too, C." Swiss pointed out.
"Si, and I discovered that many of our fans rather enjoy my feet." Copia grimaced slightly. He wouldn't begrudge anyone, he just wasn't into it.
The discussion of how badass Sunny would be with a bow and arrow came up while watching Brave and Cirrus claimed to be Elsa with her Air magic being akin to colder, Winter winds. She also sung full renditions of the Ice Queen's songs to back her claim.
After the movies were done, all were exhausted as it was almost 5am. And while the very busy Frater would complain when the late night impacted the early meeting he had in a couple days, he'd never miss or regret spending time with his Ghouls. Forget their religion, this was sacred to him. They didn't care about species, or blood or Elements, and they were much more than pack. This random group, pulled together by some perfect string of fate or coincidence, was a family.
And Copia adores his family.
#ash answers#anon ask#the band ghost#ghost band#ghost ghouls#nameless ghouls#phantom ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#rain ghoul#swiss ghoul#aether ghoul#mountain ghoul#cirrus ghoulette#cumulus ghoulette#sunshine ghoulette#aurora ghoulette#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv#frater imperator#fluff
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No Shipping Drama, Please
Going to put this here, as I had to deal with this on IG:
I'm going to be a mom for a second tell everyone getting into shipping discourse/ drama is not worth it.
People are allowed to enjoy the same character as you but ship them with other characters (self-insert/ OC/ canon/ etc).
If you don't like what they do, then I can gladly say the block button is your friend, but do NOT spread misinformation about them to others, please!
Saying someone is awful just because you feel threatened by their ship is not the way to behave. â„
#and what's sad is i knew this was gonna happen sooner than later#they are a self-shipper and they take it to a very.. unhealthy level#so i expected to have this mom moment with them. and i knew they wouldn't like it#but the moment i kindly told them that just saying the person i am buying from 'is a problem' b/c they ship their OC with Waluigi#she obviously took it as you would expect#i really do hope she gets help or comes to terms with her unhealthy view of her self-ship#because she is destroying other possible friends she could meet by shutting out other ppl who ship her fave with other characters#it's a miserable experience to close yourself off like that#but i am wishing her the best#mod talks#fandom woes#fandom drama#shipping wars
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"I have to imagine most people are more talkative than you, huh?" They didn't mean it in any sort of negative way, really. Whether or Naoto was shy, Tsubasa wasn't sure, but she obviously wasn't someone who talked just to hear her own voice. It was a bit of a weird balance - trying to be authentic with her, while not bowling her over with too much friendliness or immediate familiarity that she might find off-putting. Honestly, they were putting a lot of work into that balancing act, and they weren't totally sure why. Was it just because the idea of someone not liking them was hard to take?
At least Naoto was putting in work in her own way too, which made it feel less one-sided or desperate, and her question was one that Tsubasa could answer at length. "For sure," they said, beaming. "When I was a middle-schooler, I used to spend a lot of time at a park around here, instead of going home right after school." By then, they'd tried to only go home when their paternal administrator had already arrived. Being alone with their maternal administrator only invited arguments and trouble. "There were some skaters who hung out there, and I guess they took a liking to me."
At that, Tsubasa puffed up their chest with a small laugh. "I mean, most people do, huh?" They were agreeable and easy to get along with, which made it all the more puzzling how in those days... "They bought me a board and some gear, and taught me how to skate, and I started hanging out there more and more." To the point of dropping out of school, but they didn't think Naoto would be so impressed by that, or the special school they currently attended.
They waved their hands lightly, skipping over most things in service of getting to the point. "Basically, I ended up linking up with this retired pro who told me I had the skills, so I decided to see if going pro was an option for me, and now, here I am, huh?" At that, Tsubasa gave a weak laugh. Sure, they were full of themselves sometimes, but it still felt a little awkward to call themselves any kind of professional athlete, as if other people wouldn't consider it a real job. "Anyway, why do you ask? Normal curiosity, or do you wanna learn? I could teach you, huh," they said with a chuckle, not expecting Naoto to take them up on it, but amused by the thought all the same.
She took the phone and wondered what life would be like, if it was even going to change after something as simple as this. It probably wouldnât. Naoto kept her expression perfectly neutral while she tried to gauge Tsubasaâs thoughts on the exchange. They seemed happy, or as happy as they could be in a situation like this. Perhaps happiness wasnât the right word, but they werenât upset.
Another sip from her drink, when she was done, about a sixth was gone. âYouâre more talkative than I am. That counts as being a conversationalist in my book.â Maybe it was a joke or a compliment. She wasnât sure. Right now she was just saying things and wondering if this was the sort of thing they were fine with. Being too formal was something they didnât exactly like, so Naoto had to change her approach, even if it pained her to do so.
She tapped her finger on the table, thinking of another topic to latch on to. âCan you... tell me more about your skateboarding hobby?â Or was it a way of life rather than a hobby? She wasnât sure, but the recurring theme of her interactions with Tsubasa was being unsure. Naoto wished it wasnât, but it was part of the growing pains of speaking to people outside of work, probably.
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i have been working with kids for four years and i had to write my first ever note just now about a seventh grade boy being inappropriate towards me. i don't know what the hell this could possibly lead to or what. he was trying to feel my legs repeatedly to the point where i had to stop sitting next to him (and i was subbing for his one-to-one para!!!). he's got high support needs. in that kind of job, you're supposed to sit next to them all day and look over their work.
the teacher whose classroom this was happening in could also tell something was wrong. the whole class was acting kinda crazy because it was the day before school vacation week and there was another class coming in to share projects. so like, he was swamped with keeping order already. but we were sitting two feet away from his podium at the front of the room. the kid was giving him and me a hard time when he wouldn't take out his chromebook as he was instructed. and then when he did take out his chromebook, he immediately, for some reason, places it on my lap. he had been ogling my legs the whole time. he puts his computer ON MY LAP. and i'm just like, stunned, because what the hell? can you not keep it on your own lap, for some reason? i don't even know what to say, i just hold it a little above my lap while i'm thinking why on earth would this be happening? he would NOT do this to his regular para if she were here, would he? this can't be normal.
and the teacher sees this and within a minute places a stool in front of the kid for him to put his laptop on. and i'm like. oh ok. yeah. he notices exactly what's happening and that that's not appropriate. and then when the other class comes in to share projects he tells me "miss bââ, you don't actually have to sit next to cââ this whole period if you don't want to." and he grabs me a chair for me to go sit with the other paras in the back opposite corner of the room. like he KNEW. and thank you mr. dââ for recognizing that because i was just kind of shocked and didn't know if i was overreacting in my head to all of this.
when there's a point in the class where the kids are discussing stuff, i privately mention what's happened to the para who's sitting closest to me. and she says that the thing about him calling me pretty is something he's been known to do, but the fact that he kept trying to touch my legs is new behavior. and that's a completely different class of behavior. i was telling him NO, don't do that, and he kept doing it. and the fact that he was calling me pretty repeatedly, even when i was giving him instructions that he wasn't taking. and this is the second to last class before the end of the day, so she says she'll take a walk with him before learning center and talk to him about it, and i'm grateful for that. she does. the kid apologizes to me as soon as i come into learning center. but like. WHAT the hell.
i'm STILL like what the hell. this is unfathomable to me. the other adults who i told about this or who witnessed it were supportive of me. but. what to do??? i wrote a long note to his regular para about this, because i knew she was going to hear about it at least from the first para i told. the second para i told about it after school had a kind of... i'm not gonna say enabling reaction, but i suppose since it had already been "taken care of" (or at least, he had been spoken to and apologized) she didn't really have much to add in the way of discipline. i told her what happened after school and she was just like... a little bit, laughing? like oh, yup, that dog. she at the very least confirmed he KNEW what he was doing, that that was not an accident. she said to me "i had a feeling he was going to develop a crush on you" (me and these other paras were together for most of the beginning of the day too). but it's like. it's not about that.
i have worked with children for FOUR years. children have had crushes on me before; i'm quite unfazed by it. boys from the ages of 5-to-15 have told me i'm so pretty before and asked me to marry them. i've never had them feeling up my legs before. i've never had them making me physically uncomfortable. it's NOT about this seventh grader having a crush on the pretty substitute. he is NOT unusual for that, at all. but i've never had a boy of any age or education level repeatedly touching my knees and thighs. THAT is problem behavior!!!
because what if i wasn't assertive enough with him to tell him to stop? what if i was a girl his age? worse, what if i was an adult who encouraged this behavior? i don't come to the middle school to be a seductress. i had no intention in putting on a pair of tights and a skirt this morning of being viewed as an attractive object, especially not by a pubescent boy. what if i did though? what if his interpretation of me wasn't so incorrect and offensive? what if i let him keep touching me inappropriately and saying flirtatious things to me? me, an adult in my mid-twenties, towards a middle school boy?
in no world would that be ok. if i had been feeling up and overly-complimenting a CHILD at my place of work, holy shit would there be reports about me. so a child acting that way could never be ok either. if it'd be firable for me to be reciprocating that action, then that action should not be happening to me. ever. and that child should never repeat that action again to any other adult again.
like i am simply not there to be treated as an attractive young woman. i put on a skirt that shows too much knee and get paired with a boy, though, and that's apparently just a natural consequence. hooo-ly shit. like i don't know what to do. first of all, the more time passes since this has happened, the more i am just unable to stop thinking about it. i wasn't "hurt" or too emotional in the moment but i'm just still processing it and it gets worse. i'm just more and more disgusted.
i don't know what i expect to come out of this, or the email i sent to his regular para. like, am i gonna have to attend a fucking meeting? what is the precedent that this sets for him? WHY do i feel BAD for him about this? well, because he's a child, of course. a child who has done wrong he may not be able to understand. but he knows WHAT he did. he just doesn't know WHY it was wrong.
and i couldn't even say something to him that was like, "well, how would you like it if i was touching you like this?" because young boys do not understand how inappropriate it'd be. i'm sure this kid thought he was gonna get away with what he was doing at the very least. but probably not unlikely he (being a child with no concept of how wrong it'd be) thought he could get some sort of "positive" attention for treating me like this. either way he was simply doing what he wanted to do, with no perspective of how it would make me feel or that it could be classified as harassment. teenage boys think it'd be awesome if the older attractive woman would reciprocate their affections. they're wrong. i, as the older attractive woman of his affection, cannot be the one to convince him of that, though.
i don't know. i don't know. like it's just so not ok. but if i didn't tell another adult about this, he would've gotten away with it. he would probably do it again. and him being in trouble for it is not the same as him understanding that it was wrong. unless someone has a REAL talk with him about inappropriate attention and consent, it's not unlikely that he'll just repeat the behavior in a setting where he thinks he won't be caught or told on. THAT'S the problem. me, i could just never have to be this boy's para again. in my email, i didn't say that i would never be ok working with or around him ever again. he already knows i didn't like it and i'm not afraid to tell on him; as far as that lesson applies to me, individually, i think he's become too ashamed to repeat that.
i don't know. i don't know. i very much expressed that i, i guess, "forgave" him in the email that i wrote. i clarified that i was writing it for the sake of having it on the record. i think that could potentially be very important for the purposes of preventing further similar or escalating behavior from him in the future. i don't want him to be in trouble. i don't think i will be blamed for this, especially not with how promptly i acted, although i don't know to what extent this will be framed as me thinking i'm a "victim." i'm not... i don't feel victimized. i feel disgusted. i feel afraid for the sake of what could happen to or with him in the future, if he thinks behavior like his towards me today is ok.
i feel like if i end up having to further respond to this, this will be made about me. in a way it kind of was. is? in the moment it was happening, it was certainly about me. because i was the one this boy was giving all this unwanted attention to. but to make the consequences of this about me and to involve me any further, i also don't want. because i said what i said already, i don't care if a student has a crush on me. this isn't about me being the pretty substitute. i'm the pretty substitute all the time, to tons of people. that's not really something i've been concerned about up until now.
but do i have to reexplain my personal embarrassment? that i was wearing a skirt? that he was ogling my legs? really? what more do i have to gain from sharing that, other than having the adults at my place of work confirm or deny me in their heads as the pretty substitute? i don't know. perhaps that's REALLY overthinking it. but i don't want to be the substitute that caused a problem for this special ed kid. i don't wanna be the reason that he can't be around me anymore, the person people think of when they're monitoring how he's acting around girls and young women. i DON'T want to be the one people think of when they think of his past misbehavior. i'm NOT here for that.
that's just fucking humiliating. and in this being a thing that could follow him, i have to be ogled and touched over and over again in people's minds for this to be taken seriously. but for this to be swept under the rug would be even worse, no? i don't know. i hate this. the principal is a nice guy; i wouldn't be surprised if he and/or people from the special ed department reached out to me sympathetically about this. but i don't wanna be reached out to. i don't wanna have ppl i work with tell me "sorry that kid was just so attracted to you he couldn't help himself" like come on. if the kid himself doesn't change then i don't really care to remember this incident. and no one reaching out to me and saying they've talked to this kid will actually prove to me he understands. this is the kind of inappropriate behavior it takes years for people to understand why it was wrong, especially a child who has no idea. i mean come on.
#tales from diana#long post#sorry i should probably put this under a read more but it was just a long stream of consciousness#and idk. im tired. im so tired#do you wanna be known as the substitute teacher a kid kept touching inappropriately? probably not#thank god for the first para i told bc she took it really seriously seemingly. i mean idk what she told him in their conversation#not EXACTLY what she told him. she obviously said this was wrong and she reiterated in learning center again#that if that were her daughter she'd be through the roof and that she'd be telling his regular para#i mean of course i had to tell the regular para directly. i would rather it come from my mouth#i'm the one who has the most information of how and why it happened. i think other ppl telling it would just reduce it to#'he thought she was so pretty and he kept staring at and touching her legs cuz she wore a skirt' like come on#the indignity of that!#i already feel undignified enough.#and also thank god for the social studies teacher. the more im processing this the more im like thank god#i dont know him well. he had already been a nice dude to me before in my interactions w him#like as a sub you notice the people who are really affirming of the strange and irregular work you do#earlier this week i was subbing for the math teacher across the hall for instance and he came in before class started and said#that if anyone's giving me a hard time to just send them to him. bc that group can be a little rowdy/wild#my classroom discipline skills are not that bad where i felt the need to have someone more experienced defend me so to speak#like i know i look young and am assumed to be new. but with most classes. i can handle most misbehavior#i can put my foot down in a way kids normally respect. i know how to keep em on task#and for MOST of the day with this kid that's what i was doing. but if that social studies teacher hadn't done what he did#i might not feel so bold in just straight up walking away from that kid. after saying stop stop stop repeatedly#like he had his own job to do independent of me but i remember the gestures and like. i could cry. he KNEWWWW#that's just a very trustworthy person i feel. he didn't want me to suffer through that any longer#a lot of teachers (unfortunately) largely ignore the kids with paras and/or expect the paras to communicate to the kid exclusively#that teacher is not like that. he was willing to mind that boy while i escaped that situation. so so grateful to him
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I get trying to be a good and nice teacher and district policy and whatnot but Iâm just saying if your students donât do the work, fail them.
#chatterye#my prof said that the final would replace a lower exam grade if you had one#and obviously that means it would double count and not be like a dropped exam grade#but people took it as we can fail the final and itâll drop#which is NOT true#but sheâs nice so she dropped it because so many people didnât try at ALL#I wouldâve fucking failed all of them deadass#itâs in our syllabus that the final has more weight than an exam you canât just expect it to go away like that#I did not work this hard to skip our final for them to get a free pass like this#and I just saw a hs teacher talk about how her students didnât do the final because they didnât want to#because they know she wonât fail them which is crazy because itâs true#being a nice teacher is great and all but have some self respect and donât let yourself be absolutely disrespected by your students???#actions have consequences FAIL THEM
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Gotta be real I do love to see people launch off of an extremely reasonable "this bothered me a bit because the tart is delicious and they don't make a lot of it" into "this person is like actually, literally going to starve other people to death when the apocalypse comes"
I haven't seen someone use Deeply Problematic unironically in YEARS. Your-Fav-Is-Problematic might have retired but they never really left
Plenty of people are agreeing and being reasonable when disagreeing but there's a handful in there hoping for a cancellation of friendship Jesus CHRIST
I went to a restaurant with a friend yesterday and upon entering we saw these splendid blueberry tarts under bell jars on the counter and we made jokey small talk with the waitress like oh, people will fight over these if there's not enough for everyone, it'll tear families apart, are you making more later? and she said no, I'm afraid that's our entire stock for today, but there are 18 slices, it should be plenty! It was a small village restaurant with only one menu du jour so there weren't any other dessert options but they don't usually get that many customersâbut then a couple of large groups arrived and most people noticed the tarts like we did, and went ohh blueberry tart, it's been a while, I can't wait, and it became clear that when we'd get to the end of our meal there would be winners and losers in the blueberry tart rush
But later as we were about to order dessert I wasn't hungry anymore and I was like well that's too bad but someone else will be glad to get 'my' slice of tartâand my friend said yeah, me :) You should order it anyway, I'll eat both! At first I thought she was joking, but no. I said, there's not enough for everyone, you can't take two, and she said, we were going to order two slices, what difference does it make? and I was baffled that she couldn't see the ethical difference between two people eating one slice of tart each vs. one person eating two, when there's a limited quantity of tart. I felt like we were in a simplistic social justice metaphor it was so obvious, but there was no changing her mind. When I said "it's just... not nice" she said "okay" with a shrug, and what can you say to that. She added, you don't know any of these people and I was like, why are we reverting to tribal dynamics in a non-apocalyptic setting, how would you feel if we'd arrived a bit later and seen others ordering two desserts knowing you'd get zero? And she said, I would think that's their right, and I felt kind of amazed.
I pointed out that if she didn't think it was a wee bit wrong, she wouldn't ask me to order her second piece as if it was for me, and she said yeah maybe we don't need to do that, there's no law preventing me from ordering two desserts. What about Kant's categorical imperative Okay I guess you're not breaking any laws by taking more than your fair share of a thing other people also want, just failing a kindergarten-level morality test. I felt embarrassed for sounding like an annoying preachy rigid person so I dropped the issue, and as she ate her two slices she'd smile at me every time we overheard someone order coffee without dessertâlike "See? There'll be enough, no one will be deprived of tart because of me!" as if that cancelled the fact that she didn't care in the first place. I guess it was one of these tiny issues that can still significantly alter the way you perceive a person. I tried to tell myself not to be so bothered about this small thing but I was! so bothered. And I felt like writing a letter to some agony aunt like "should I end a friendship over irreconcilable blueberry tart ethics"
#if she ate both there she might have been more hungry than she thought at the end of the meal#if she took it home for later I'd think she was being a dick#from this post I'm getting a feeling that you're like me in that you hate it when other people are disappointed#so you're trying to preemptively manage their emotions#your friend is an extension of you so you expect her to behave like you do when you're together because if she don't it will be embarrassin#I'd get like that too: I'd skip over the last of something because I was worried someone would kill themselves if they didnt get it#this is obviously less extreme but it comes from the same place of your brain trying to protect you from emotional harm#by being rigid around flexible social rules
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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.
It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.
To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.
This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.
Join me below, if you would.
2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.
Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadnât even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.
It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.
But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.
The next day, weâre on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that sheâs surprised the two of us arenât up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.
âEveryone else?â Goes I, âI thought they wouldâve shut that down already?â
âOh no!â goes she, âThe courts arenât open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. Theyâre doing them all weekend long!â
We didnât know because social media wasnât a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as Iâd read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.
"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, itâs a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but weâre not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?
The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.
We had slightly miscalculated.
Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone whoâd gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.
âIsnât City Hall closed on Monday?â I asked. âItâs a holidayâ
âOh sure,â they reply, âbut people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.â
âOh cool,â we go, âBackup.â
âMake sure youâre here if you do,â they say, âbecause the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.â
And all this shit is super not-legal, so theyâll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.
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We donât get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.
Itâs⊠incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of othersâ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.
At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, âThatâs Newsom.â He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.
Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.
So dusk is starting to fall. Itâs February, so itâs only six or so, but itâs getting dark.
âShould we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?â we ask.
âYeah, Iâm afraid thatâs not going to be possible.â One of the volunteers tells us. âWeâre not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. Weâd need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.
Monday is the last day to do this, after all.
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So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.
The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people whoâre up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.
âUh.â We go. âWhat the fuck is -this-?â
So.
Remember why they werenât going to be able to have people hang out overnight?
Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties thatâd gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.
Itâs 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least werenât likely to loose job protections any time soon.).
Then it starts to rain.
We had not dressed for rain.
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Here is how the next six hours go.
Weâre in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. Itâs around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and youâve got a makeshift raincoat! So youâve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.
Everyone is so happy.
Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.
People online start making delivery orders.
Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because theyâre just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.
A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all weâre sinning and to please donât. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against Godâs will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.
The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how âNot even DOGS do such things!â Which⊠Yes they do.
A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that weâre willing to come out in the rain to do this while theyâre not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.
Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall weâre on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when weâre on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when weâre on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.
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We have Line Neighbors.
Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. Theyâve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. Heâs worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. Theyâd started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.
The most perky energetic joyful woman Iâve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. Sheâs their local friend whoâd just gotten their message about what theyâre doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.
Behind us are a lesbian couple whoâd been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. âWe met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because itâs our first love city.â
âThen they announced -this-,â the other one says, âand we canât leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.â
âI told them why,â her partner says, âI donât care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.â
My husband-to-be and I look at each other. Weâve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? Weâre potentially taking a spot from another couple thatâd been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.â
âDonât you fucking dare.â Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.
âThis is as much for you as it is for us!â says the lesbian couple whoâve been together for over a decade behind us.
âYou kids are too cute together,â says the gay coupleâs friend. âyou -have- to. Someday -youâre- going to be the old gay couple thatâs been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.â
We stay in line.
Itâs while weâre on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. âCan we say weâre with you? His uncles are already inside and theyâre not letting anyone in who isnât with a couple right there.â âOf course!â we say.
The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but thereâs free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so heâs having a great time.
We pass by a statue of Lincoln with âMarriage for All!â and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.
Itâs about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.
Theyâve promised that anyone whoâs inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. Weâre safe.
We still have a -long- way to go.
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Theyâre trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways Iâm not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.
Itâs after weâve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. âItâs an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you donât have to do it there!â
We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.
We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.
I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.
The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.
Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.
The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.
A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. Sheâs done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. âOh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today Iâm acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-â
The guy behind the counter has been there since six. Itâs now 1:30. Heâs still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. âAlright, go to the Rotunda, theyâll direct you to someone whoâll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, theyâll direct you to -that- line.â âCanât you just mail it to us?â âNormally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, weâre not going to be allowed to.â
We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.
If youâve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, youâve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.
Thatâs for the people who didnât bring their own wedding officials.
Thereâs a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. Theyâre doing the whole damn thing. Thereâs at least one more Rabbi at work, I canât remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.
We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)
I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I canât get the ring on my husbandâs finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.
There really isnât a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that weâd made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands whoâd cheered for us generally.
Then we're married.
Then we get in line to get our license.
Itâs another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayorâs office.
Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked âTHANK YOU!âs that have been piled up against it.
We make it to the marriage records office.
I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then weâre done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.
It's almost 3PM.
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There are cheers, thereâs rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. Itâs no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. Thereâs barely even any news vans.
We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading âCongratulations!â jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.
Iâm at the BART station, weâre waiting for our train back south, and Iâm sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. âHey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just⊠Iâm so happy for you. Iâm so proud of what you could do. Iâm- Iâm just really glad, glad you could get to do this.â
He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.
Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.
We get back to our car and climb in.
Itâs 4:30 and we are starving.
Thereâs a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.
We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what weâd just done.
We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.
The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsomâs marriages.
My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. âNo! No one knew that theyâd go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! Iâll just be there for the next one!â
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It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didnât even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was âmarriage really isnât that important, aside from the legal benefits. Itâs just confirming what you already have.â
But maybe itâs just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and Iâve never really come up with a better metaphor is, âItâs like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each otherâs support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.
It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.
I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. Itâs been twenty years and weâre still together and still married.
We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. Weâd done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husbandâs collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.
Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.
It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldnât negate it that time.
Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"
And that was that.
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When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didnât expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldnât see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.
I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before Iâd barely started by 30s. I never thought Iâd be in my 40s and itâd be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers wouldâve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.
I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.
I never thought Iâd live in this world.
And itâs twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.
I donât have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you canât predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.
The future weâre resigned to doesnât have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.
And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those whoâre against it will brave.
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That last post just reminded me of something honestly mind-boggling that that friend did
#so iâd just gone back to uni after being home for the weekend and i messaged my friend to let her know#and she said âoh awesome iâm studying in the library with my friends from my course all day; come up!â#i lived a 15 minute bus ride from campus and had a free pass so it wasnât a problem at all for me to get myself there#(and i went to campus tons anyway. like i think i went to the library once a day that whole year to be honest. i was writing my dissertation#so even though i didnât like her friends (they were snooty; cliquey; all the guys would try to flirt with you in creepy ways) i said âsureâ#but there was one problem: iâd left my wallet at home. my grandma had lent me some cash as soon as iâd realised (too far into the journey to#go back) and iâd be fine for the few days it took for someone to get my wallet to me; but i didnât have my student ID#and i needed that to get to the upper floors of the library. where my friend and her friends were#SO i communicated that to her and she was like âyeah of course iâll let you in! just let me know when youâre thereâ#so i did that and got no response. didnât think anything of it. but then she messaged saying something about how her friends were having an#argument; someone was having a breakdown and she couldnât come down right then#i was like âfine take a few minutesâ but i was obviously annoyed because what do you mean?? just walk away for a second#use me to diffuse the situation and change the subject if you have to?#so i said to let me know when she was coming down but i didnât hear anything and it was crowded as fuck on the ground floor of the library#so i think i gave her like 10 minutes and just went to the business schoolâs cafe#nearly an HOUR later my phone rang and it was evidently her standing in the reception area of the library wondering where i was#i was like did you honestly think iâd still be waiting?? did you think i had nothing better to do with my life than wait around#like a schmuck to hang out with you and your godawful friends who i donât like. jesus christ#and i mean itâs still not the most insane way sheâs disrespected my time. like a few months after that she called me asking if i wanted to#go for a walk. i said âyeahâ and proceeded to get ready and everything. waited for her. sheâs like âactually i need to do xâ#then i didnât hear from her. after like an hour i gave up and started working on my dissertation#she pulled up to my house THREE HOURS after she initially called and was absolutely bamboozled when i said i no longer wanted to go#on a walk and that i was working on my dissertation and had gotten in the zone#like if youâre going to be That late youâve gotta tell people. you canât expect them to still be waiting on you#past a certain point; especially with no communication; i just assume iâve been stood up and i go do something else#because like realistically why the hell WOULDNâT i go do something else if i more than likely have 3 hours to do it in lmao#i canât with this type of behaviour. i really think she thinks other people donât have lives#or want to hang out with her so badly that theyâre willing to sit around for hours waiting#i just think she should manage her ego to be honest#personal
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ahh i just cant stop thinking of sukuna's fav concubine getting injured from the other concubines but she hides it because shes scared of being weak (in sukuna's eyes) and/or a burden âčïžâčïž
âđđ đđđđ. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. fluff, sprinkle of angst n comfort. size difference. reader gets called âbrat, woman, little oneâ â ig this is a bit early in their relationship
âiâve arrived, my lord,â you announce your presence once you step into sukunaâs quarters. the dimly lit room removed all the stress you currently had in your systemâthe knowledge that youâre safe in his space causes your shoulders to drop.
sukuna turns his head to look at you while heâs laid back on his bed, topless. all four of his eyes roam over your body, which isnât anything unusual for you. he always does that.
âtch. took ya long enough,â the king of curses scoffs before gesturing for you to come closer, making that familiar motion with his fingers, âwhen i order yâ to come, youâre supposed to drop everything and rush to be at my service, woman.â
you hurry over to his side of the bed with a nod. âmy apologies,â you mutter. you canât tell him why youâre late, because hell would break loose within these walls. and also because youâre scared of what his reaction would be.
before being called over, you were in the kitchen, peacefully trying to get a snack, when two other concubines entered the room. you tried ignoring them, but that didnât seem to be the smartest move. it wasnât long before they threw derogatory remarks at you.
of course, you stood up for yourself and yelled some back. thatâs when one of them pushed you backwards, causing the skin near your hand to get slightly burned by the fire on the stove.
if it werenât for the maids around that went to report the ruckus to uraume, god knows what more would have went down in that kitchen.
âoi,â sukuna grabs your jaw and lifts your head up. he can immediately notice the vacant look in your eyes, which is unusual for you. you snap out of your trance and set the nasty memories asideâignoring the impulse to scratch the injury on your wrist.
âiâm sorry, my lord,â you say again before slowly undoing your obi. you figure that is why sukuna had called you over, to do your job as his concubine. you halt your movements when you realise that undressing meant that heâs going to see the wound on your skin.
you hesitate. that same instant of hesitation doesnât go unnoticed by the king of curses. a large hand of his moves to stop both of your wrists from pulling off your robes.
â. . .iâm giving yâ three seconds of my time,â sukuna narrows his eyes after allowing you to speak up and tell him whatâs on your mind. he hears you whimper in pain when he holds onto your wrist, your facial expression clearly uncomfortable. âspit it out,â he impatiently huffs. he wants to hear you say whatâs wrong.
you desperately shake your head, biting your bottom lip. you donât want to tell himâeven though you know youâre obligated to.
denying an answer to sukuna was your next big mistake.
âfuckinâ brat,â the pink-haired man grunts. he yanks your arms up to his face, harshly pulling down the sleeves of your kimono. all four of his red eyes immediately fall onto the wound on your wrist. you obviously hadnât treat it yet, even though you should have done so long ago.
thereâs tension hanging in the air almost instantly after your little secret gets revealed. sukunaâs grip on your hands tightens which causes you to flinch. you close your eyes and expect the worst. you can already hear the insults heâll throw at youâhow heâll call you useless, weak, stupid and all that.
âlook up at me,â his voice rings out in a firm tone. you donât want to anger him more than he already is, so you obey. you open your eyes and glance upwards, your worried gaze meeting his.
sukuna takes a deep breath to contain the bubbling rage inside of him; a rare sight indeed. he doesnât want to unnecessarily lash out at you when it isnât needed. however, he canât deny that itching urge in his chest, to get mad at whoever caused your skin to get tainted like that.
sukuna stares at you with an intimidating glare. when you expect him to yell profanities at you, the unexpected happens.
âwho did this to you?â he asks, voice strained like heâs trying to hold himself back.
you blink a few times. the king of curses sounds pissed off, and when heâs in that kind of mood, you know heâs not to be played with. you look the other way and try to think of a proper answer.
will you snitch and cause unnecessary bloodbath, or will you spare the lives of the concubines who hurt you and lie?
youâre scared of being seen as useless by sukuna if you tell him the truth. if you lie, heâll probably call you weak and stupid as well. itâs a lose-lose situation, you conclude.
you swallow the spit that has gathered in your mouth before parting your lips.
âm-miko,â her name echoes in his ears. you decide to be honest, because you know that thereâs no fooling the ryomen sukuna. a second of silence follows and when you look up at him, he stares back at you with furrowed brows.
âah,â you then realise that he doesnât know his concubines by name. he has way too many women at his disposal and doesnât find them worthy enough to remember.
however you have heard from uraume and the others that he does know your nameâonly yours. it makes you feel special.
you try to describe the concubine youâve tussled with, âs-short blonde hair, uhm, mole under her right eye.. brown colored eyesââ
sukuna thinks for a moment before clicking his tongue once he faintly remembers who thatâs supposed to be. without a word, he stands up and wraps one muscular arm around your waist, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you under his armpit like some package.
âuraume!â
his voice is loud enough to make the walls shake and it carries a clear hint of pure rage. everyone in the estate should have heard him by now, which means that they know what is going down in a couple seconds.
sukuna sounding this angry only means one thing; someone is going to die today.
the servants hurriedly scurry around, deeply bowing as he walks past them in the hallway with you still tucked underneath his arms. you let yourself be carried while your heart beats uncontrollably fast in your chest.
you feel your hands shake a bit. seeing someone like sukuna be this mad for your sakeâto the point that heâs ready to turn the entire area upside downâis somehow thrilling. though, you canât help but feel sick because of your own thoughts.
someone is going to die and there you are, cheesing about the king of curses.
you see the white-haired chef appear from a corner, their steps hurried. they glance at you and then back at their master. itâs like they immediately connect the dots.
âtreat her in my quarters. donât let her leave until i come back,â sukuna commands without even looking at uraume. heâs staring ahead, with an ominous aura emitting from his body, one that somebody can sense from miles away.
he puts you down next to uraume before glancing your way one last time. he lets out a deep sigh as he sees the worried expression youâre making. he lowers his head to your level so youâd be face to face.
âand you,â his warm breath hits your cheeks and sends a shiver down your spine. you gulp as sukunaâs hand reaches up to firmly tug at your earlobe, âiâll deal with your ass later, yeah? iâll make you feel what it means to hide stuff from me, little one.â
that sentence makes you even more nervous. you know you wonât be able to avoid the punishment sukuna has in mind, so you simply nod. âunderstood,â you reply in a squeaky voice. you donât have the guts to disobey himâheâs already out to kill someone and you donât want to be the next victim.
sukuna straightens his back again and continues his journey towards the concubinesâ quarters. every heavy step makes the floors and walls shake, a sign of his unstoppable rage thatâs about to be unleashed.
you feel slightly puzzled. you didnât expect this outcome when you revealed your injury to the ruthless man. you expected to be belittled and mocked for not being able to prevent a wound from being inflicted on your body.
instead, there he goes, off to get revenge in your stead. you feel a twisted sense of satisfaction after seeing sukuna be this protective over you. actions like these demonstrate more than his dull words can do, even if it may seem like he doesnât care about what could happen to a human like you.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#jjk x you#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#jjk fluff#sukuna fluff#sukuna x y/n#jjk x y/n
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Why you all got ok mothers leave some for the rest of us
#hello?????#my mother had me exorcised when i was 16#or 17#my father beat my mother when i was a kid and would randomly lash out based on literally nothing#calling me (aged 3-14) and my mother cunts and whores and all kinds of slurs and threatening to beat or kill us#and every once in a while he'd just get up and leave for a week without telling anyone. we had only one car so mother had#to find alternative ways to get to work (grandparents had no car at the time) (we lived in a tiny rural village)#when he came back he never apologized and just told my mother 'you know how i am. what else do you even expect?'#he also threatened to beat me up whenever i cried or got scared or sad or embarrassed. i was not allowed to be anything but#happy. anger was also allowed but obviously not towards my parents. if i did that i would get locked in a room for several hours#if i self-harmed while locked in there i got yelled at but that just told me that i needed to self-harm more to please my parents#i think i internalised that because when i disobeyed them when i was very small (like...3-5 years) they'd spank me with a wooden spoon or#give me a strong head slap or two. i came to expect violence and when they stopped because it just made me more volatile#i felt the need to enact that expected violence upon myself.#i was unimaginably afraid for my life and for my mother's life until i was about 14. i used to pray for my father's death#but then again i prayed for my mother's death too#i had nightly night terrors about coming home from school and seeing blood everywhere and him kneeling over my mother's corpse#a lot of my good dreams revolved around killing him. i dreamed of coming home before he could kill her and stopping him#in a way i dreamed of being at least 50% safe.#both of my parents also beat me for being neurodivergent and lashes oit whenever i asked too many questions or couldn't#understand something. i always got either the r slur or i got told that I'm just playing a r*tard#to spite and anger them. everything i did in my life was specifically to anger them in their eyes.#i hated both of them so so much and i loved both of them so much and I didn't know how to put it all together#i hated that the father who took me to fairs and played football with me was the father whose touch had a 70 % chance of being violent#i flinched when seeing a hand move until i was 19 and screamed when getting hugged by anyone until i turned 17#my mother's physical violence was something other adults found funny - if she didn't spank me with a spoon; she'd#hit my arms until they got all red and numb and my crying just made her angrier. she still does this. I'm 22.#but when i accidentally ask the wrong question - the retarded one - when i do something to set her off she just hits my#arm until it doesn't even hurt anymore because i stop feeling it altogether. i don't cry because of the pain but because I'm scared#and sorry and embarrassed and guilty. and anyway we don't have tags left for my mother's abuse
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Halloween AU!!!
hey so. i put SOOOOO much effort into this au and for what? at least it ended up looking cool? anyways Halloween is my favorite holiday and i just HAD to make something for them!
i had a LOT of ideas for what everyone would be, but i really wanted to stick to a certain theme cause it's based around Halloween. i knew i had to have a vampire, werewolf, and a witch. cause like... obviously. iconic Halloween stuff!! but i took some liberties with everyone else and i think they turned out pretty cool!!
Jason was originally a fox shifter (which i still love and might draw art for some day) but i went with a bear in the end. is that because i thought about tiny bear cub Jaybin and wanted to cry? yeah. yeah it is. i KNEW Steph was going to be my werewolf though i started doubting myself when i went to draw her. turned out to be my favorite drawing on here which makes sense cause she is my light my love my daughter my will to live and all that jazz
Tim was actually gonna be a harpy but thank god i didn't go for that in the end. Duke was the one that was a bitch and a half trying to figure out BUT!! comments on the post asking what y'all thought led me towards Psychic so THANK YOUUUU everybody that commented!! (specifically those who thought of ghost!! Duke and Tim ended up being a perfect duo in this au)
Babs was pretty easy to figure out what I wanted for her. I read somewhere that they are seen as protectors of forests/ are considered spiritual authority figures and also.... she looks cool as fuck. Did not expect how easy it was to find a ref for a deer in a wheelchair though? I can never find the right hand or face angle reference but that was super easy???
For Bruce there was literally no question he HAD to be human. it's literally so funny that everyone who knows Batman thinks he's a spooky vampire but he's human. his first son, however?????? THAT'S the vampire. I knew Dick had to be a vampire too. A little nod towards that one comic run but in my au nothing bad happens ever đ„° Damian also being a bat shifter is very on purpose because how funny is it that he's a bat man. Literally not a single person in the League thinks that Bruce is telling the truth about being human. Bruce you are NOT beating the secretly a vampire allegations.
adding in Jay's hilarious joke it's so fucking funny:
Alfred is actually a demon. I CAN NOT remember who made this post so if someone can help me find it, it would be appreciated!! because this was inspired by them!!! but somewhere i saw someone talk about Alfred being a demon that Thomas and Martha made a deal with (i think it was for an au idea?) and I just HAD to put it here. Alfred looks so human and everyone expects it, but he's definitely not. I put the ??? because it's so fucking funny. see if you can spot the 1 hint i put on his drawing that something is amiss!!
Peter is from an alternate dimension still, but it is not a world of creatures like him, it's just the same as LoF canon except Peter grew some extra limbs and eyes. He finds that it's actually pretty easy to fit in with the Waynes. Hard to feel like a freak when a guy can turn into a fucking bear, or your dad is a vampire, and the teenagers in the family are trying to summon ghosts or make potions.
additional doodles for this au:
i am still debating whether i am going to draw something for this au or write a oneshot, but i DO want to do something with these for Halloween
#(putting a hypnosis thingmabob in front of you)#oooooo you don't notice i forgot peter's tooth gap in the character design sheets#oooooo#you're getting veryyy sleepy and so you don't notice#listen he was the last one i drew and i worked on this for 9 hours#halloween au#halloween#erinwantstowrite#ao3#ao3 fanfic#leap of faith ao3#peter parker#leap of faith catch me if you can#leap of faith#thank you for the ask!#dick grayson#bruce wayne#jason todd#tim drake#steph brown#cassandra cain#duke thomas#babs gordon#damian wayne#alfred pennyworth#batfamily#batfam#art#character design#character illustration
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Part 2
Can't stop thinking about reader finally cutting them loose.
For three days there was nothing but radio silence. In those three days you had told yourself that it was a grace period. Time for Simon to cool off and realize how much of a bastard he was for saying all those things he obviously didn't mean. Johnny coming back over with a bouquet of flowers and endless apologies and cuddles.
Simon didn't apologize for his harsh words.
Johnny didn't call you later, as promised.
For three days you jumped at every single notification, silently hoping it was one of them. Any of them.
But it wasn't.
And you, unfortunately, got the answer to the question you had been asking yourself for months.
Did they still want this?
The answer was clear.
You didn't let their unofficial dismissal get to you. You still had shit to do. A life to get on to. A book signing to go to.
Jesus.
A book signing. A book you wrote. A book that was being published and released the day of the expo. You weren't expecting a huge line because this was your debut novel, but with the help of some ARC readers who had took to social media, there had been a bit of a storm brewing.
You had listened to John when he had mentioned writing under an alias. Don't know how crazy people are out there. They'd do anything to get close to you, Dove. Just better to protect yourself where you can. You almost hated yourself for listening to him now. Now you would just have to keep writing under your pen name.
You were getting ready to close up shop early when your phone finally pinged.
Kyle.
Fuck.
Of course it was Kyle. The one who hadn't treated you like you were constantly bothering him. Not the one who made you feel guilty for agreeing to your arrangement. Nor was he the one who fucked you and left you. No. He was just the one who just wasn't there.
Maybe that was just as bad.
What are you up to today?
That was it. Almost two weeks of radio silence and that's all he had to say? It just added more evidence that you were making the right call in ending this now. It had already carried on for too long.
You had two things on your to-do list and you wouldn't let Kyle's sudden reappearance deter you.
E-mail the publisher back.
Change the locks.
You didn't have the strength to face them again. If they groveled, it would be too easy to take them back. One against four wasn't much of a fair fight. And if they didn't care to fight for you... you don't know if you could survive it. Coming face-to-face with the proof that it didn't bother them to give you up even though it was killing you.
No. Cutting it off completely was the best thing to do.
So you didn't respond.
You left Kyle's text unanswered as you e-mailed the publisher back that everything was set for your flight on tomorrow morning. You would spend Thursday adjusting to the time difference and Friday you would rest up before the expo this weekend. She assured you that you would need to rest up your writing hand. Whatever that means.
You left Kyle read as you closed up shop several hours earlier than usual. You needed to drop off the bank deposit before you started on task number two.
You didn't bothering responding to Johnny when he had texted you when you were leaving the hardware store, purchase in hand. Asking if you were free Friday. Promising dinner. 'In or out. Your choice.'
It was almost second nature when you got home to pull up your phone. Ready to text one of them to see which one of them could come over and help.
Fixing a leaky sink? Nothing Johnny hasn't seen before. Need help moving furniture? John won't mind when you change your several times on what should go where. Kyle would always come in with take out the moment you mentioned you were hungry and whenever you felt like going for a walk when it was a bit too late in the evening, Simon was the first to volunteer as your personal guard dog.
But asking them to come and change the very lock you planned on using to keep them out seemed... counter productive, if not downright petty.
You were almost done with the lock when your phone sounded off. Only this time it wasn't a text. Someone was calling you.
You almost faltered when John's name came on your screen.
Fuck.
That almost got you.
You almost answered it.
Almost.
You clicked on the 'Sorry, I can't talk right now. Options, before finishing up your work.
And just like that, you were done. No help needed. You had changed the lock. Even adding on a deadbolt. Replacing the flimsy chain Simon had taunted you about. If someone wanted to get in here, that wouldn't stop them.
Well, now you didn't need to hear it anymore.
Not that you would really hear it again...
Your flight was in twelve hours. Although that seemed an ample amount of time you hadn't even begun to pack. You had luckily narrowed your outfits down, but now was the task of folding it nicely into your suitcase rather than just stuffing it in there.
On my way. We need to talk.
It was too late for talking. Three days too late. Several months too late.
The last message sent was four weeks ago. A new Thai place had opened up close to your apartment that you were wanting to try. All of them had given you excuses.
Not my taste, Dove.
Cannae do it tonight. Next weekend? Next weekend didn't happen either.
I can do tomorrow. Kyle ended up bailing. You forget the excuse he used.
Simon hadn't even bothered to reply.
The final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Almost two years wasted with nothing, but a broken heart to show for it. And the worst part is, they had all chipped away at your heart, leaving you to deal with the final blow that would shatter it.
Im sorry. I canât do this with you anymore. wish you all the best.
Your fingers made quick work in blocking their numbers. It was best. If they wanted to reach you, they couldn't. On the other side of the coin, if they didn't care to reply, you wouldn't spend countless hours crying over the fact that none of them had been affected the same way you had.
You would deal with getting them their belongings that they had left behind another time. You had big things, great things happening for you. You were cutting your loses. You were cutting them loose.
You just hoped you didnât regret it.
#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#call of duty#john soap mactavish#poly141#angst#grovel#groveling
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âđâËâč⥠when a heated argument between rafe and bitchy!kook!reader leads to the cops knocking at their door when theyâre already.. âmaking upâ
warnings: toxic!rafe, toxic!reader, nothing about this is romantic, cheating accusations, arguing, lots of yelling, physical violence, angst, lots of throwing and breaking things, banter (?), making up, the cops show up, unprotected sex, rafe gets slapped and choked during sex too..
a/n: this has been in the vault for a while now lolll. huge thanks to my bb @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea <3
wc: 2.8k
âyouâre acting fucking crazy right now!â you walked through the front door, rafe following closely behind as you slipped your heels off. âiâm acting crazy?â you spun around, rafe eyeing the shoe in your hand. âi hear this bitch talking about how you and her fucked while we were on a break, and you expect me to be calm?â you scoffed, âdonât tell me iâm acting crazy when you havenât even tried to start explaining to me what the fuck sheâs talking about!â you threw your shoe just like rafe suspected you would.
missing him by a few inches, rafe lunged at you, grabbing the other heel out of your hand. âwhat the fuck did i tell you about throwing shit at me!â you rolled your eyes, shoving him away as you walked past him to the kitchen. âstart talking rafe.â your boyfriend pinched the bridge of his nose, his nostrils flaring as you took a water bottle out of the fridge. âsheâs obviously lying! why would i go have sex with someone when me and you were still fucking? blocked contacts and all?â you narrowed your eyes at his form.
âi swear to you, i donât even know who that girl is!â he walked around the kitchen island, a groan rumbling from his throat when you moved away. âthen why would she say that? why would she be talking to her friends about it in a pathetic little circle if it wasnât true?â you shot back. âhello?! so that we could argue exactly how weâre arguing right now. are you really gonna give her the satisfaction by doing what she wants you to do?â he slammed his fist down on the marble slab separating you two.
arching a brow, your gaze flickered to his phone in his pocket. âgive me it.â rafe scoffed. âgive you what?â he sneered, his heart dropping when you pointed to the cellular device tucked away in his pants. âdo you seriously wanna act stupid right now? i said give me your fucking phone.â rafe cursed under his breath, not even wanting to imagine what youâd do if you saw him hesitating. sliding the damned thing across the island, you picked it up and unlocked it. âif you take one step iâm shattering this shit.â
the first thing you did was go to his text messages, scrolling through every thread for any sign of whatever her name is. you didnât find anything after a few minutes of searching, ârecently deletedâ messages included. his social medias were next, a lot of them clean for the most part. you bit the inside of your cheek when you opened his photos. golfing selfies with topper, loads of offguards of you at your vanity, even more photos of you and him while you were out running errands.. amongst other things..
despite not finding anything, you noticed rafe still had this worried look on his face. biting your lip, you followed your gut feeling and opened his notes app. sure enough, there at the top was a phone number with the initial âsâ next to it. tapping the number, you put it on speaker before muting yourself. âwho the fuck is âsâ?â rafeâs eyes widened in realization. âdonât-â he stepped forward, making you raise a finger. the phone rung twice before a sultry voice picked up. âhey, handsome, i was waiting for you to call me..â
eyes flickering over to his, you smiled in disbelief. ârafe? hello?â you hung up, your heart beating in your ears as white hot anger blinded your vision. âi can explain that!â he knew to keep his distance from you, your fingers clutching his phone even tighter. âi donât want to hear shit. youâre a liar, rafe. you always have been.â now you were calm, and to rafe that was worse. what made you so angry wasnât the fact that he slept with someone else, but acting like you were the crazy one and flipping all of tonightâs arguments on you.
rafe still continued talking. âwe didnât have sex! i never even called her or anything! did you not hear her say she was waiting for me to call?!â you turned, your eyes burning into his skull. âitâs the principle! you still had this bitchâs phone number saved! thatâs the fucking problem, idiot!â without thinking, you chucked the phone across the room, shattering a picture frame of you and rafe. following the line of damage, rafeâs jaw clenched. he really liked that picture of you two. âweâre breaking each otherâs shit now? bet.â
you rolled your eyes as he stomped up the stairs, a bottle of perfume flying from the railing and into the wall where a hole now resided. âi could always buy a new one, asshole!â you taunted him, âwith your credit card, too!â the next thing that came hurling from upstairs was a glass jewelry box where you kept all the jewelry rafe specifically bought for you. that one did in fact hurt a little. you took a breath before he really took the cake with the next item, or items. as if moving in slow motion, you watched as rafe threw over various makeup products over the spiral staircase.
eyeshadow palettes, foundation bottles, tubes of lipgloss and concealer also amongst the mess, all came to a booming crash smack in the center of the foyer. there was glass absolutely everywhere. and you were barefoot, great. you stared at the space around you, tears pricking your eyes at the scene. you and rafe stood in silence, thinking about why this continuously keeps happening. you didnât care if he saw you crying, the sound of your sniffle making his demeanor change. âiâm sorry, baby.â
you shook your head, not wanting to hear anything. âno, youâre not.â your voice shook as you tiptoed to the couch, trying your best not to step on any glass. going inside your shared bedroom, rafe came back out with some shoes for you before making his way downstairs, the glass crunching underneath his feet. âplease, iâm begging you to just let me explain all of this.â he plopped down next to you, in which you moved over all the way to the other side. petty.
âme and topper were at the golf course, kickinâ it the way we always do when this bev cart girl came up to us,â you looked over at him, your teary eyes making his stomach churn, âshe was telling us that she had just started there and that she lived on the other side of the island and long story short she started flirting with me, okay?â he held his hands up defensively. âi told her that i have a girlfriend and i wasnât interested by a long shot.â he started, âshe got a little irritated and then topper, being the instigating asshole he is, invited her to the party tonightââ you cut him off.
âthat still doesnât explain why her number was in your phone, and why she was talking about you being the âbest fuck of her lifeâ while i was sitting right there.â rafe rested his head in his hands for a moment. âcan i finish?â you waved him off as you settled back in your corner. âthings got awkward so i gave topper my phone before going inside and getting a drink. when i came back out, she had winked at me all weird and topper showed me that he had saved her number in my notes for me to send to him later because his phone was dead. thatâs it, i swear.â
you didnât say anything, a part of you hating yourself for wanting to believe him. âexplain to me why she was talking crazy with her friends then.â rafe tapped the side of his head, âbecause she obviously knew it was you that iâm with!â he shouted, making you glare in his direction. âhow would she know me?â you crossed your arms. ây/n.. besides the fact that we were all over each other, who the fuck doesnât know you?â rafe asked incredulously. fair point. âis that all?â you looked up at him as he scooted closer.
âno.â his tone switched to that gentle lilt, your breathing slowing when he took your hand in his. with the last bit of resolve you had left, you pulled away from him. âwell make it good, because iâm on the verge of leaving your ass.â rafe scoffed. âyou said that last time..â he shot back, âand the time before that..â you shot him a glare. âand who broke in when i changed the locks?â you reminded him of the time you woke up to a busted door in the middle of the night. âyou got me.â he shrugged, in which you looked away.
âwhatever.â you felt exhausted, all of tonightâs activities were starting to catch up to you. who knew overthinking, arguing on the way home, breaking stuff, and yelling and crying could make someone so tired? ânoâ i mean like, you got me.â rafe closed the space between you two, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you still avoided his gaze. âhey,â he thumbed your chin, âthere has never been, and never will be, another girl. iâll die on that hill.â your eyelids fluttered when you felt his fingers creep up on your thigh.
âi know you could see right through me, does it look like iâm lying?â the expression on his face was clear as day. he was telling the truth. you let out a shaky breath, your arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled you on top of his lap. âoh, baby, we have to do better.â he squeezed you tight, inhaling your scent as his palms ran up and down your back. you sniffled into his neck, pressing a kiss to the skin there. âiâm sorry for breaking your phone.â rafe shushed you, eyeing the broken device in the corner.
âdonât be. iâm the one who broke like half of your shit.â you didnât even care, mostly because you knew rafe was going to replace everything anyways. you pulled back, cupping his face in your hands. âi love you.â you whispered, those three words making rafeâs heart clench. giving you a small smile, rafe replied with a âi love you too,â followed by âgive me some sugar..â of course, you leaned in, rafeâs lips meeting yours halfway as he groaned at the taste of your lipgloss on his tongue. this was just how things went, you two have been here plenty of times before.
his hands snaked down to the globes of your ass, hiking your dress up as he kneaded your flesh between his fingers. your kisses became more feverish, a muffled moan sounding from you when rafe slipped his tongue inside your mouth. he dragged your hips against his clothed erection, both of you hissing at the much needed friction. âhow bad do you want it?â rafe panted, nipping the skin of your neck. you almost laughed at his words. âhow bad do i want it?â you repeated, âhow bad do you want to take it from me?â rafe groaned when you wrapped a hand around his throat, pushing his head back against the couch.
he shouldâve known taking the reigns wasnât going to be that easy. with one of your hands restricing his intake of air, he blinked up at the ceiling, his eyes fluttering shut as you pressed kisses to his chest. you were so sexy like this, he let you grind against him until he couldnât stand to not be inside of you for another second. you let rafe remove your grip on his neck, a small gasp leaving your lips as he took both of your hands and tucked them behind your back. your head was resting on his shoulder as he pulled himself out of his pants, his fingers moving your underwears to the side before forcing you to sink down onto his length.
you were so slick and ready for him, rafe couldnât refrain from cursing in your ear. âyouâve been soaked this whole time, huh? fighting turns you on, is that it?â you met his eyes. âmhmm,â you leaned down, âyou make me so wet when youâre mad..â rafe grunted, landing a harsh smack to your ass. he knew that already, but hearing you say that while heâs both angry and sexually frustrated just ticked him off even more.
soon, you were the one bouncing on top of him, making him watch in awe as his cock disappeared inside of your greedy cunt. wanting to watch you unravel, he started stroking your clit, making you double over. âyou wanna cum? you have to earn that shit.â without a word, you reached up, slapping him across the cheek. the action made him twitch inside of you. âyou only cum if i get to.â you kissed him roughly, biting his bottom lip as you pulled away. you were so serious too.
rubbing your clit in harder circles, you nearly screamed when the tip of his cock began pressing that sweet spot inside of you. âfuckââ your thighs began trembling, your orgasm just right there in arms reach when there was a loud bang at the front door. both of you jumped, the fire in your loins melting away into nothing as both of you froze. âwhat the fuck?â rafe held onto you tighter before the banging continued. âwho the fuck is that?â you got up, pulling off of him with a hiss. âouter banks sheriff deputies, open up!â you and rafe looked at each other with wide eyes.
rafe cursed under his breath, adjusting your dress and his pants before stepping in front of you to answer the door. âcan i help you?â he peeked out, two other cops standing at his side. âare you the owner of this home?â rafe squeezed your hand, responding to the officer with a âyes, sir.â opening the door a little more, the cop continued to explain why him and his team were there. âwe received a few calls reporting a domestic dispute at this address, âsaid that they heard yelling and a lot of ruckus.â you shut your eyes for a moment. you shouldâve assumed the whole island was able to hear you and rafe going at each otherâs throats.
âuh, no sir, nothing domestic going on around here.â rafe joked. no one laughed. âno? so the four separate calls we received were all lying?â four separate calls? damn, people couldnât mind their business around here. âwell, uh.. yes, me and my girlfriend had a little disagreement but weâre okay nowââ immediately, the sheriff demanded to see some kind of identification. taking his id out of the wallet in his pocket, rafe cooperated as the older man had him confirm his information. âso you said you and the woman are âgoodâ now?â officer shoupe, as rafe had learned, asked with concern.
âyes, sir, sheâs right here.â before you could protest, rafe dragged you to the front, an awkward smile adorning your lips as you were pretty sure they could see the smudged lipgloss all over your mouth. âhello, sweetheart. can you confirm that you are safe and in not any immediate danger with this man?â you looked back at rafe, having never been questioned by the police before. âyes, iâm safe,â you answered, âwe just had a little fight, but weâre making up now..â one of the female officers cleared her throat awkwardly.
âi see..â shoupe nodded, gaze flickering back at rafe. âwell i guess weâll leave you two alone then. next time, can you please keep your volume low? you two had some people pretty spooked there.â you mumbled a âyes, sir.â before rafe pulled you back inside and shut the door. it was silent for a moment, both of you seemingly looking around at the aftermath of everything. âi canât believe people called the cops..â you walked over to the kitchen and grabbed the broom. rafe watched with a confused expression as you started sweeping up glass.
âso, uhâ we arenât going to pick up where we left off?â you looked up at him with a look that said âseriously?â. âno. how about we âpick up where we left offâ after you help me clean all of this up, and replace everything you destroyed?â rafe groaned. he could always count on you to leave him with blue balls. deciding to help you, it wasnât long before everything was cleaned up, no sign of any earlier events except for the new hole in the wall. after you two showered and settled in bed, rafe held you flush against his chest while he kissed up your back,
âare you sure you donât want to finish?â rafe sounded pained, like he needed to be inside of you immediately. turning around in his embrace, you pecked his lips before swinging a leg over his hips. âmake it fast.â you pretended like you didnât want the same thing, a smile gracing your lips when you heard rafe mutter a âthank god.â before slipping off of your nightgown.
#â€ïžâ âč works#âËâč⥠bitchy!kook!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks imagine#outer banks fanfiction#rafe outer banks#outer banks rafe#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx imagine#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#drew starkey
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