#so she tried to force herself to be the same. she tried and she tried and it didnt ever work but she refused to hurt him like that

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 93 (Finally Coming Clean)

When Conrad arrived home on Friday night, Ash was in the city. He took a shower, joining Heather in the kitchen while she cooked dinner and talked about Ray Pierce, the Landgraabs' driver who she'd met that afternoon. "He seems as nice as Ash says. It's just annoying I had to find out about him from my son and not his father."

Conrad didn't say much; he couldn't exactly chastise Malcolm for keeping secrets from her. Lavender was awake and Conrad practiced sitting with her for a while, putting her to bed as the scent of chicken stir-fry wafted up the stairs.

He went to the kitchen, smiling at the setup of food and candles at their dining table. "You didn't have to do all this." He kissed her cheek. "What's the occasion?"

"The occasion is, I love you. I just wanted to take away a little stress from your day."

He frowned, and his hands went limp around her waist. "Heather, I need to tell you something. The case I told you about that's been driving me crazy...I backed out of it yesterday morning."

She looked at him, confused. "Maybe that's for the best. But it's not like you to give up on a case."

"I had to let this one go. It was kind of...it wasn't an official case. I've been looking for someone off the books for close to six months."

"Why? Is it someone you know?"

He nodded, and she followed him to sit across from him at the kitchen table. "There's so much about my past I haven't been able to tell you. I should have said something long before I moved in, but I'd convinced myself it was totally in my past and would never be an issue."

"What is it?"

"Do you remember that woman who was looking in our windows when you were pregnant? I wasn't sure at the time, but I got the cameras as a precaution, regardless. She started texting me after Lavender was born."

"Who is she?"

He took a deep breath. "She's my ex."

"Conrad, what does she want?"

"Me. She only wants me. But she can't have me so she's..."

"Is she dangerous? Is this the college girlfriend who cheated on you and broke your heart?"

"Same one. Her name's Ximena Bonilla and she's a little...erratic. But she might not be as dangerous as the people she associates with."

"Who does she associate with?"

"Selvadoradian cartels. She's a drug dealer."

The shock and confusion on Heather's face turned to anger. "How do you know her?"

"I met her when I was in college. She said she was a student and convinced me for almost a year. She was raising her kid brother, Rafa, by herself and escaped being trafficked by the cartel by running drugs for them instead. When I found out the students were her customers, I should have broken up with her. But I was in love and I wanted to keep her safe. I didn't leave. I got deep enough that I met some of her bosses and knew about some of their operations, but she cheated on me and it broke the spell. I finally left her, but one of their ops went bad and one of the guys they picked up gave my name to San Myshuno PD."

"Conrad, you don't have a criminal record. I looked you up after we started dating."

"You hacked the police database, too?"

"No...I did a public records search after River made a joke about a hacker and a criminal."

"To this day, I don't know how my father did it. My file's locked under clearance even I don't have, same as anyone else on the force with a past, but Landgraab Security's always had contacts at San Myshuno PD. He pulled enough strings to wipe my record clean and transfer me into the academy. I had to give them a couple names in exchange - street dealers, local guys. No one that would really upset the cartel. But the force had to look like they were managing crime in their city, and that's the only reason I became a cop and not a complete screw up."

"Is the cartel after you? Or just your ex? Did you give them her name?"

"I never gave them her name. I couldn't, because I didn't know what would happen to her little brother if I did. She tried to get me back after I left, but I knew it could never work out. When Gord was still a puppy, she cornered us outside my apartment to get my attention when I brought home another girl. I got a restraining order, but when it expired and she stayed away, I thought she was finally gone for good."

"So why is she back?"

"She asked for my help to find her brother."

"Is her brother even missing?"

"He is missing. He's wanted by San Myshuno PD. I wanted to help him before he was arrested and sent to prison."

"But you were looking for him under the table, as a favour to your ex who sounds obsessed with you? No wonder Gord hasn't left us alone since Lavender was born. He always knew what was going on with you, didn't he? And you never thought to mention any of this to me?"

"Heather, I wanted to, I-"

"Were you going to help this guy avoid prison? How? Criminal connections?"

"Nothing like that. I was hoping to be able to talk to him, encourage him to go back to finish high school, find a solid job, and maybe convince a judge to go easier on him. I really thought I'd be able to find him in a few weeks, maybe a couple months, and we could all move on again. But uncovering leads has been impossible, and his sister's not a reliable source. I'd even started a file on Ximena because I thought once I found her brother I could finally get around to what I should have done more than once and turned her in. But I could see what searching for Rafa and keeping it from everyone was doing to me, so I finally told her yesterday I was done."

"You've been in regular contact with your ex and didn't tell me? And not because there's something between you but because she's dangerous? Conrad, that's worse."

He nodded. "I know it is. I know how not saying anything makes it look, but I'm so ashamed of that chapter of my life. My bad decisions killed my father. After he got me into the academy, his heart got weak. Two heart attacks, and he died within months. As long as I live, I'll know the stress I put him under was the cause."

She was quiet, nervously playing with her food. Neither was hungry anymore. "You should have told me this."

"I'm so sorry. The longer I kept it from you, the more I feared telling you too late to deserve understanding. I love you so much, and I never wanted to do anything to lose you."

They were interrupted when Conrad's phone started beeping. This time, it was work, but he read the dispatch and his stomach dropped.

The phone shook in his trembling hand and Heather stood. "Conrad, what is it?"

"There's a dead body at the pier. I've got to go back to work." A bone-chilling shiver ran down his spine. His heartbeat quickened, as though he knew what he'd find when he reached Fisherman's Wharf. "I'm so sorry, Heather. I want to keep talking about this, but I can't."

She nodded. "I understand."

A pit formed in his stomach. "Will you do me a favour? I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but will you leave for your parents' place in Henford tonight? Don't wait until morning. I'll probably be working all night and I'd rather know you're safe outside of town."

She uncrossed her arms in shock. "Do you think your ex is involved with the body at the pier? Is that why you want us to leave? Lavender's sound asleep already, but you want me to wake her and take her an hour on the Simmerloop when you invested in those security cameras?"

"Heather, please," he begged, reaching for her hand across the table. "If she's anywhere near Brindleton Bay right now, I can't focus on work if I'm worried about the two of you."

Heather looked at him with sad eyes as their fingers brushed against the wood-top table. Betrayal was written all over her face, but she nodded toward the uneaten food and pulled her hand away. "I'll pack this up in the fridge and then I'll take her. Do you think you'll make it to Henford at all this weekend?"

"Heather, I don't know. I hope so. But I can pack this up before I go. Thank you for cooking. I'm sorry we couldn't enjoy it."

"Me too," she snipped. "Good luck. Be careful."

Heather couldn't look at him and Conrad wouldn't press her. As much as he wanted to run after her and beg forgiveness, a deadly crime scene called him to the pier. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Heather doing a semi-romantic dinner setup wasn't a flirty gesture, but she has the caregiver personality type. I can't remember if this is from a mod or an EA feature, to tell you the truth. I think it's a mod. Conrad has the jester personality type, which I think suits him, too. Conrad is really responsible and respectful which suit his proper trait (which was learned after younger mistakes), but jesters trend toward mischief/"foolish games" in addition to being jokesters. EDIT: It's WonderfulWhims/WickedWhims that adds this!!

WCIF Poses Used? Dinner Table Talks by @herecirmsims. I don't even mind the clipping because their kitchen table and chairs didn't quite fit the dimensions, because the poses gave me the expressions I wanted. I tried way too long to try to get the teleporters in the middle of the chairs, but I got close enough for me. Just ignore the fact that their chests were in their stir-fry for 90 per cent of that convo! Thank you so much for creating and sharing! 🙏

[lovelaetter]

cant stop thinking about stepmom!taeyeon who manipulates and eventually convinces her werewolf stepkid to use her body on the day the full moon comes out 🥺…

the moment it actually happens, she gets more than expected and it’s so painfully pleasurable but hey at least the dick hit the spots iykwim

MONSTERFUCKING, STEPCEST

i’m going to be so honest with you anon, i love this. i love this a lot and you know it because the day you sent this i posted that i wanted to kiss you and i still do but for some reason i can seem to write anything around this and it’s the reason this post is going to be so straightforward, only fuck*ng not background as much as i love, i really tried but couldn’t come up with anything i liked :( that being said..

she would so take a double look at your cock because jesus, why is it so big? it was already hard for her to take you the first time you fucked ever, human form and all, but this? sure she would feel for days, no matter how much time you spent between her thighs, always the dotting daughter, the caring girl, lapping at her sweet cunt to get her ready, using your now longer tongue to open your way inside her. thighs and waist burning with the little cuts from your claws, she doesn’t dare to look down and see the mess it must look, can’t do much but whimper and try to hold your arms as you move her around the you feel like, whispering in the sweet voice of hers “sweet girl, calm down, please” when you growl at her neck, frustrated that you can’t seem to fit inside her, your tip pushing against her entrance a little insistently. would slide her hands between your bodies, moaning just from feeling you under her touch, using her own fingers for a while, she’s so unbelievable wet, can take three so easily, but it’s not like her hand is that big.

there would be so much going on once you finally slide inside her— she thinks she’s being split in two, your teeth grazing her neck and a deadly grip on her waist and it’s too much but it’s nothing because it’s barely half of you and she needs more, kicks and screams but pushes back, wants you deep. keeps one hand over her belly the whole time to feel you hitting there, clearly growing more and more wet each time. when you start to simply push, knot forcing its way inside her already abused pussy, has lost count of how many time she has come by then but does again so hard, it’s like the first time, feeling herself get even more full with cum. and speaking of cum, there’s just so much of it… once you manage to slide out, she feels so dirty at how it just keeps flowing out of her, but at same time it’s so good. all the pain, worth it.

lays there with you later and wouldn’t complain if you decide to lap at her some more, in fact finding it endearing, maybe it’s a werewolf thing, a way to try and soothe her sore cunt. she loves you so much, you’re not hers but still, such a good daughter, always caring for her, even like this :( does she have any idea of how to explain to your dad what are all the cuts on her body? hell no, but she can think of something.

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Cuff it 👀

Well, you got me. Forcing me to write the fic I have been joking about for a whole year now. Safe to say this fic requires you to listen to CUFF IT. It's a good song I would love to go roller skating while to one day. The disco vibes beg for the skates. This fic isn't about that. I present a reader that is very horny down bad for Wriothesley while I attempt to keep this humorous and safe for work.

I think it's very obvious there is reference to sexual content. It was very hard to think of ways to keep this sfw considering the lyrical content. I give you the long joked about CUFF IT fic.

Words: 1947 Fem!Reader Modern AU This feels like such a crack fic

Navia spit out her drink as Y/N’s phone began ringing, interrupting the music they had been listening to. “Why is that your ringtone?”

“So you have no complaints about me playing the song, but when it’s my ringtone, there is a complaint?” Y/N asked, still standing on top of the step ladder as she put dishes away in the top cabinet.

“I agree it’s a good song but seriously that's your ringtone?” She asked again.

“I have my reasons. Just answer it for me. You’re closer.” It was easier to just keep shoving cups in the cabinet than to take a break. That box was almost empty.

Navia looked at the call screen. “You have a song about about riding-”

“Just answer!”

Navia swiped answered the call and placed it on speaker for Y/N to listen. “Took you long enough.” Wriothesley’s voice came through the speaker.

“Yeah, we’re putting stuff up still. Navia had to rush to grab my phone. How are you and Clorinde doing with my furniture?” Y/N spoke loud enough to be clear.

“Perfectly strapped down to the rental. We took a detour to pick up some food if you don’t mind.” He continued explaining. “Clorinde said you and Navia were talking about wanting to try out that new restaurant that opened so we just got some stuff from there.”

“Good memory. Navia kept staring at the menu when we were on break.” She told on her friend.

“I’m just curious to see how they make their cakes. It’s my job as a baker to see how other places make the same desserts to see what I can do better.” Navia defended.

“Which is why we made sure to grab some,” Clorinde said, sounding tired from the lifting they had been doing.

“We should take a nice break when y’all get back. We got most of the kitchen unpacked anyway. How long till you’re back?” Y/N asked.

“Five or so minutes. Is the door still open?”

“Yeah.”

“See you soon then,” Wriothesley spoke before hanging up. The music from Y/N’s phone began to play again filling the mostly empty room.

“Is this ringtone my horrible way of finding out you two are dating?” Navia asked now a little in horror at how completely inappropriate Y/N’s taste in ringtones was.

“Nope!” Another shelf had been filled, and on to the next. “But if we were dating I would happily act out said lyrics.”

“That’s too much information.” And Not something Navia even wanted the mental image of.

“If I have to hear about what you would like to do with Clorinde behind closed doors, I think you can deal with the lyrical content of ‘Cuff It’. I mean it’s only bad when you pay attention to the lyrics.”

“I could excuse it if the lyrics were set to the chorus! At least that’s tame in comparison, you might be able to get away with it if he overheard that as your ringtone for him.”

“And Wriothesley won’t hear what I have set as his ringtone. Even then I think everyone knows it’s my favorite song.” Y/N defended herself. She had a few months of this as his ringtone and nothing bad had happened so she must have been in the clear with that silly decision she made late one night updating ringtones for her friends.

“Even then, don’t think on the off chance he hears it there won’t be questions. I mean the lyrics it opens with are ‘Hypersonic, sex erotic’. I think anyone would ask questions.” Navia tried appealing to her sense of reason.

“You know I keep my ringer off most of the time anyway. It only played because I’m connected to a Bluetooth speaker. I'm perfectly fine to keep those lyrics as a ringtone that plays like in a blue moon.”

Navia rubbed the temples of her forehead. If this was what she was like before even making a move on Wriothesley, she was afraid of what would happen if they ever became an item. “What even drove you to set the dirtiest part of the song as his ringtone? Actually, do I even want to know?”

Y/N laughed. “You remember last Halloween when he got forced to dress up? This song just happened to be playing as he was twirling around handcuffs. I can still see the twirls as the song played.” She began singing as the memory played in her head. “Come and cuff it, cuff it, cuff it, cuff it, baby. While I buss it-”

“That better not be why this is your favorite song.” Navia interrupted. “Oh my gosh, is that why you sing that part so loud?”

“The song is two years old and that only happened last year. I've been loving this song. And perhaps. A girl can daydream.”

“Just ask him out instead of being ridiculous. He’s gonna catch that ringtone one day.”

“When you ask out Clorinde! Even then I’m not sure if he would even be open to the idea of going out on a date. If I ask him out it might make things weird between us. I really do like him. More than I just want to sit on him kind of way.” Navia rolled her eyes at that sentence as Y/N continued. “I mean I know he can look scary but he is just such a sweetheart! I mean come on he didn’t have to help me move. Then there was that one time he picked me up cause there was a nail in my tire. Oh, and that day he begged to come over when I was watching my grandma’s puppy.”

“I get it! I just really think you should ask him out. Have you considered maybe he does all those things 'cause he likes you too?” Navia could hear the rental vehicle pull up. “I’m gonna go see what they need help with.”

Y/N frowned at the question Navia had left her on. There was no way she would be pondering such a question when she had a cabinet almost filled and Wriothesly just outside her new home.

Even then there wasn't anything wrong about that song being her ringtone. Plenty of people had ringtones with raunchy lyrics. This one was at least award-winning and it sounded so fun that not everyone even saw how dirty of a song it was. Was there really anything wrong with having the ringtone of the guy she would love to fall in love with to be a song about wanting to ride his dick?

…okay maybe phrasing it like that she could see Navia’s point. Y/N sighed. Guess it was time to change her ringtone for Wriothesley to be something more appropriate. It was a 2 am decision and to be fair, no one ever had good ideas at that hour.

She could hear bags being placed on the counter. “Part of taking a break requires you to get down from there.” Wriothesley was quick to remind her.

“I'm almost done. I'll get down in a bit. No issues with loading anything right?” She asked not wanting to look him in the eye just yet considering her previous thoughts.

“It went well. It was tiring though. Your bed frame was heavier than it looked though.”

“Good thing I have your help then. Actually, could you hand me my phone real quick?” She wanted to see time but also to change the album that was playing.

Wriothesley grabbed the phone for her before walking over. “Yeah, here you go.” There wasn't even a chance to grab the phone before it started ringing. The phone lit up with his name on the screen and a photo of him filling the screen.

Hypersonic, sex erotic On my body, boy, you got it Hit them 'draulics, while I ride it Got me actin' hella thotty So excited, so exotic

Despite the song on her ringtone playing so loudly, the room was just quiet. Navia was right and she was a fool. She felt frozen, unable to move despite the fact she could have easily taken the phone out of his hand.

Wriothesley answered the phone before the song could be played any further. Clorinde’s voice came through the speakers. “Navia and I are going back to the restaurant. They forgot some of your food. Wriothesley’s phone is still with us. Let him know.”

“Will do,” Y/N answered before Clorinde hung up the phone where her music had once again returned to the speakers. “I must set the wrong song as my ringtone for you. Funny mistake right?”

“When I switched phone brands you were the one who kept showing me the different ways to customize it.” Wriothesley reminded her. “You can’t stand on that ladder forever.”

“I feel like it’s better if I do.” The longer she stayed on the ladder, the longer till her feelings had to be rejected.

“Get down.”

It was hard not to frown as she got down from the step ladder. She wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to leave the moment Clorinde and Navia got back with the food and his phone. She didn't dare look him in the eye.

“I know it's one of your favorites and all but I think I'm going to need some more explanation than that of why you have that set as my ringtone.” He was at least kind enough to give her the phone back.

“You're a smart guy. Don't make me. This is embarrassing enough.” Y/N put the phone down on the counter behind her after turning down the volume of music playing. “Just let me down already. It's not like I was ever expecting a chance. It doesn't take a genius to see you weren't interested in any sort of relationship.”

“Who said I was uninterested?”

A rough calloused hand gently moved her chin up forcing her to look Wriothesley in the eyes. “You never acted as you were.” The words came out quiet, still flustered from before.

“It's not like you made it clear before either. Even then when I did try asking you out before, there was always something going on to where you couldn't go. I almost thought you were purposefully trying to avoid me.”

“I would never. I was just busy. I didn't even think you were asking me out.” Her eyes drifted off to the side. “How many times?”

Wriothesley let out a nervous laugh. “I would rather not count that.”

“I can’t believe I’m that oblivious that you won't even tell me how many times. Gosh, I'm stupid.”

“I wouldn’t call you stupid. Just distracted.”

“That doesn't help me feel better.”

“I have an idea what might make you feel better.”

Y/N laughed at herself. “Yeah, crawling under my blankets never to return.”

“Then let me do this before you go.”

The kiss from Wriothesley was gentle, warm, and inviting. Tender yet she could tell how much he wanted it. She didn’t even notice how her arms moved on their own, desperate to pull him closer. There was the faint taste of tea, not surprising with how cold it had been that day.

That was the perfect song to set as her ringtone with it leading to this. The part of her that planned on cursing that restaurant just for being the reason Clorinde had called her was now thanking them for forgetting their food. It was a perfect miracle.

It wasn't for the fact that she was hungry and had a deadline on when to return the rental truck, that door would be locked. It would be best if Navia and Clorinde took their sweet time so she could keep savoring this kiss.

[sufferu]

I was asked for a snippet from the Dogshow series. I have delivered. As the exact scene was not specified, I decided for myself.

Dogshow: No Way Home

____

[“But no matter how pathetic I was, you and Mom still treated me the same as always,” Subaru said. “That’s what scared me most of all…”]

“They…” Emilia choked out. “They really did…They really did love him, didn’t they…?”

Otto thought of his own parents, and how patient they had been with him for all those years. He swallowed, fighting back tears.

“Those bushes there really are fascinating!” Anastasia was saying loudly. “They look just like some of the foliage we have back here, don’t they?! I wonder if maybe there’s been some cross-barrier transport of — of seeds or something! Or perhaps it’s just the convergent evolution Hoshin once described at work—”

[“I wanted you to say, ‘I don’t love you.’ ‘I despise you.’ ‘You’re not my son.’”]

“…What?” Ram croaked. Rem watched silently from beside her, carefully stone-faced as she watched this tragedy unfold. “Subaru, you wanted…what?”

Subaru didn’t answer. He had stopped moving a while ago. He was staring at the metia, unable to look away from his father’s face.

“I mean, really!” Anastasia continued loudly, a frantic edge to her voice. Mimi was nodding along theatrically from beside her. “I wonder if we could cross-breed exact replicas of those — what did you call them, Subaru?! Sakura trees?! If those bushes’ similarities really are just the result of convergent evolution, then—! I mean, I know for a fact we have trees very similar to those sakuras in Kararagi, so it’s not all that far off to conclude that we might be able to—!”

[“I wanted you to tell me that and throw me out. I wanted you to make me give up.”]

“…Oh, fuck,” Anastasia managed, finally unable to avoid listening to the conversation.

Next to her, Julius made a horrible, horrible noise.

Onscreen, Subaru continued to speak about how he had grown past these feelings. How he had found a way to live for himself, to start striving to better himself — and how the people he had met since had allowed him to do so. But Ricardo couldn’t focus on any of that, because all he could think was that THIS was the version of Subaru that his parents remembered.

A young boy, on the cusp of their culture’s idea of adulthood, who had suddenly retreated into his shell amidst disapproval from his peers. Who’s difficulties in interacting with others HADN’T been due to a difference in culture after all, with him struggling so much to make and keep his friends even back home that eventually he had felt that he had no choice but to give up in that pursuit entirely. Who had fled from his duties as a scholar and holed himself up in his room, refusing to leave for any reason except to eat. Who was constantly waiting for his two parents who loved him very much to revoke that affection out of frustration and throw him out.

Who was just waiting for an excuse to go and end himself, giving up for good.

Ricardo suddenly thought about Ana-bo. He wasn’t her biological father, but he had — he had bathed her, and fed her, and secured her work, and fought to protect her from unsavory types, and watched her grow up from a little orphan brat into a strong, capable woman. He had known her, and he had loved her, and she had become — family, to him, most definitely. In a sense, perhaps she could be considered his daughter after all.

What would he have done, if Ana-bo had — sometime on the cusp of adulthood — had withdrawn into herself so completely and utterly that she refused to socialize with anyone unless she were forced to do so? That she no longer tried to work, or learn new things, or improve her skills, but instead escaped into storybook after storybook about being whisked away to a place where she could be someone, anyone other than who she had been before? That she curled up in the corner of her room and waited for Ricardo to throw her out on the street, because then she would finally have an excuse to — to finally go and fucking kill herself?

Stop it, Ricardo hissed at himself. But he couldn’t stop.

He wouldn’t have let it get that first in the first place, first of all: he would have dragged Anastasia out of her room by force and force-fed her a decent lifestyle, if need be. In fact, part of him thought that Subaru’s father had been somewhat useless in that regard: had there really been nothing his old man could do to stop him from crawling into his shell and refusing to come out for several months on end? But even if there wasn’t anything he could do about it, he wouldn’t have abandoned her. Even if he were going by Kararagi’s age of adulthood being 15 where — Japan, it was called — their age appeared to be 18, he still would have known her for four, five full years, and that had been more than enough for him to start caring about her more deeply than he had ever expected being able to care about anyone. What would he have done instead? Well, the answer had to be “whatever he could.”

But then, what would he have done, if — in the middle of a depressive spiral so severe — Anastasia had vanished into the night without a trace? He would look for her, obviously. He’d spare no expense, either, and — and he’d keep a tally of every cent he spent, so that when he finally found her again he could shove the receipt in her face and tell her that she was going to work to earn back every last bit in order to make up for scaring him so badly. But then — if he never found her — he’d never stop looking, would he? Or maybe he’d be forced to stop? But then he’d still be waiting, and he’d still be putting up posters and asking for leads, and as the years passed he’d be thinking of what she might look like now, how she might have aged, what sort of life she might be living far away from home, hoping against hope that she hadn’t actually gone and—

But the reality would be worse.

It would have been better if this hypothetical Ana-bo had been given the mercy of a quick death, on her own terms. It would be better if Ana-bo had died just once. It would be better if she didn’t have to experience — being slit open and bled out, being drained of all her energy bit by bit, being thrown down a hallway and crushed by a giant flail in a place where she was supposed to be safe, being tortured by someone she had thought she could trust in the woods where nobody could hear her cry, being attacked by a pack of vicious, wild animals, being publicly humiliated and beaten half to death for the crime of being a brat in the wrong place at the wrong time, being forced to witness the corpses of all of the people she had grown to care about and told that it was all her fault, being kidnapped and tortured in a cave by a madman, being turned away as she begged and pleaded and prostrated herself for help, being chased by a vicious monster intent on erasing her from existence, being frozen to death bit by bit as a vengeful spirit forced her to suffer through every second, being possessed and forced to beg for a mercy kill right when it looked like the world was about to turn out alright, being blown up, being forced to watch as her support network was shattered behind her back once again as her closest friend was erased from everyone’s mind but her own, being forced to suffer again and again and again without an end in sight—!

Was it a mercy, that Natsuki Kenichi would be forced to conclude that his only son had gone and killed himself? Was it a mercy, that he would never find out the truth of what his child was being forced to endure in his absence? Was it a mercy, was it an injustice, what the actual FUCK was this horrible, horrible—!

“Ricardo?”

With slow, jerky movements, Ricardo turned to face Ana-bo. She was watching him with large, worried eyes. She had been so upset a second ago, staring at that metia with a slack jaw as she made a miserable choking sound, and here she was pushing that aside for his sake. How could he have ever deserved—!

“Mmph!”

Ana-bo made a startled noise as Ricardo practically dove for her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling him tight to his chest so that nobody could ever take her from his side. Normally she would protest this action greatly. But now, after a moment of shocked silence, that wise, kind, clever, wonderful daughter of his hugged him back.

“Ya don’t need to cry,” Ana-bo murmured. “‘M not going anywhere.”

In truth, Ricardo hadn’t even noticed that his cheeks were wet. He didn’t have it in him to be ashamed. All he could do was clutch her close and wait for the shaking to subside, bit by bit.

…If it were Anastasia, Ricardo would have prayed for someone to be looking after her in a situation like this. Father to father, he could do the same for Subaru’s old man if need be.

—Though, from the look on Wilhelm’s face, Ricardo wondered if his own involvement would even be necessary.

Wilhelm had his hands raised to cover his mouth in a decidedly uncharacteristic display, so horrified he was by the reveal of the prior state of that young boy. Subaru had… Subaru had…

This wasn’t what he had expected. A young, dumb boy who got into mischief perhaps a little too often for his own good, sure. But a youth who had shrank away from everything so completely, so utterly, that he had really begun to think that there was no future for him at all—!

What a horrible thing for a father to hear from his son. What an awful thing for a son to voice aloud — or to feel, in the first place. Wilhelm had seen blood and carnage and despair on the battlefield, but for some reason it was now that horrified nausea twisted his insides into knots.

“I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die! No! No! Help me! No! I don’t want to die!”

Subaru hadn’t REALLY wanted to die. But — had he not fully understood that, back then? How could he not have known—!

(Wilhelm did not think of his own son, who…may have been left in a similar state. For all of his courage on the battlefield, the Sword Demon could not bring himself to think about that.)

[“FATHER HEADBUTT!!!”]

[Natsuki Kenichi slammed an axe kick down on the head of his beloved only son.]

Julius squawked loudly, abruptly snapped out of his horrified silence. Next to him, Mimi’s despaired expression shifted as she — mercifully — broke into peals of laughter.

[“A lot of what you just said bothers me, but you know what’s the worst?” Kenichi was scolding, suddenly rather serious. “You wanted me to hate you, so you tried to achieve that by playing hookey? Are you dumb?! And if you want to get me to throw you out, pick a more active method! Who would ditch their own kid just because he retreated into his shell?!”]

Ricardo — relaxed, just the slightest bit. At least…at least that old man had told it to him straight. Right?

[“You’re so twisted, you’re on the fast track to being an idiot!” Kenichi cracked his knuckles, grinning. “I’d be glad to set you straight by force if you want…”]

Wilhelm chuckled weakly, trying desperately to force down his turmoil and keep it cool. “Perhaps…Perhaps all fathers have that attitude, even beyond the Great Waterfall…”

Ferris said nothing. Ferris hadn’t moved an inch since the reveal that Subaru had been waiting for an excuse to go and die. Wilhelm didn’t…know what to do.

[“…But it looks like you’ve already been knocked down and stood yourself back up, so there’s no need.” Kenichi’s voice had softened, his fist relaxing into a hand he extended downwards to pull his son back up. Subaru smiled as he accepted it.]

“They really did love him,” Crusch echoed softly. “Didn’t they?”

Anastasia stared wordlessly at the interaction. A very personal sense of loss gnawed at the heart of the former hyena — and a sense of despair at the dawning realization of just how fucked up this situation really was seemed to take over her mind like an invasive species of poisonous flowers.

She reached forward and pulled all three triplets into her lap, hugging them close.

[“Remember what I said?” Subaru was saying. “I found a girl I like. Plus, there's a girl who said she loved me, despite the way I am. And neither one of them knows I'm the son of Natsuki Kenichi. In their eyes, I'm just Natsuki Subaru.” He sighed aloud. “No, in all of their eyes…I was Natsuki Subaru. I finally figured that out.”]

[“It took you long enough. You’re just now coming around to saying all this? I should whack you.”]

Emilia stared at the screen, eyes dull and faded. Rem’s were much the same. On one hand, it was wonderful to be told that Subaru had achieved something so precious due to their influence. It was perhaps the greatest compliment either of them could receive.

But, on the other hand…

[“Um,” Subaru was saying, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Sorry about putting you through—”]

[“If you feel sorry, all you gotta do is take your time making it up to us.” Kenichi grinned, giving him a thumbs-up. “Take good care of me and your mom when we’re old, my eldest son.”]

In the present moment, Subaru finally made a noise.

It was soft, and quiet, and very hoarse — but Beatrice, who had not taken her eyes off of him once, noticed all the same. “Subaru…?”

Subaru’s pupils had shrunk even past their usual states, his whole body shaking as he stared up at the metia in horror. Tears were staring to bud in the corners of his eyes. More horrible croaking noises were leaving his throat. One by one, the people of the audience turned to see what was going on.

“…Natsuki-san, please—” Otto said, the first to reach out. “It’s alright. It’ll— It’ll be alright—”

“Please don’t cry,” Emilia agreed, unusually gentle. “Please, not…” Not while we can’t hold you.

[The Subaru onscreen had already started to cry. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I— I’m sorry. I can’t— I-I'm sorry! I won't be able to make anything up to you before…” He finally, properly burst into tears. “I will never see you again!”]

As that cold reality was voiced aloud, the Subaru in the present finally sobbed — and with that first step, the entire dam seemed to shatter until there was nothing left for him to do but fall to the floor with a thump, curl into a ball, and wail in despair.

“Subaru—!” Julius cried out, trying desperately to hold back his own tears at the horrible sight.

“Subaru-dono, please!” Wilhelm tried to say, reaching forward to try and ease his cries. His hands met glass. “We’re right here, please just—!”

[“I-I’m sorry!” Subaru apologized, over and over again as his sobs grew and grew and grew. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”]

“I-I’m sorry,” Subaru echoed weakly, tears streaming down his face to form a puddle under his cheek. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I wanna— I wanna go home—!”

Beatrice choked back a cry of despair of her own. “Subaru—!”

[“No matter how much time passes, you’re still such a handful, son.” Kenichi sighed, but he was smiling as he rubbed a bawling Subaru’s back. “Sheesh…”]

The current Subaru had no such comfort to be given to him. Nobody could reach him, no matter how badly they wanted to, no matter how hard they tried. All there was left for him to do was wail and wail and wail as the horrible despair surrounding his untimely departure collapsed on him anew.

[lipstickchainsaw]

Act 3 mostly left behind the elements of the show that I was most interested in, and had the most to say about, but I do want to talk about episode 7, which was fucking gorgeous and extremely well done.

I've seen people say that the good timeline Ekko and Heimerdinger find themselves in is the result of Vi dying, as if this timeline is a Wonderful Life view to paint Vi as the 'real' jinx, but I don't think this makes sense (for one, I don't think this episode gives us a new perspective on Vi, and Vi isn't the one seeing this, so it isn't giving her a new perspective on herself, either).

No, the point of Ekko's half of this episode is to give him a new perspective on Jinx, by showing him who Powder could have been. Last season, he was the most prominent person to argue that Powder was dead, and that only Jinx remained within the girl he was once friends with. This is not an unreasonable position for him to hold, given that she's killed a bunch of his friends in the Firelights over the course of his resistance to Silco's regime.

But this girl he meets here is not Jinx, and when he sees her, he initially reacts with the same hostility he would to the one from his timeline. Even when he figures out that he's in a different timeline, he isn't able to get over that, to stop projecting the image of Jinx onto this young woman who's done nothing wrong and suddenly sees her boyfriend acting so cold and distant to her.

This culminates in him asking the (really insensitive regardless) question of whether she was the reason Vi died. He has so internalised the view of Powder as Jinx/as a jinx that anything having gone wrong must have been her.

But she shoots back that, really, that's on him way more than it is on her. It's downplayed in season 1, but Ekko is the one behind the inciting incident of the show. To wit, he rips Jayce off, charging him double for the stuff he's buying, and then sends his friends to rob the guy's place, little rascal that he is. It was a fun little prank for a kid to play on some rich idiot who could just bounce back from that anyway, right?

And then everything went horribly wrong! Ekko lost his mentor, his closest friends, one of whom came back different, as his home was turned into a twisted parody of itself, and he had to find himself a sanctuary from which to launch a resistance movement.

We're naturally drawn to compare this Powder and our Jinx, but I think the subtler difference here is between the two Ekkos. It doesn't get a ton of emphasis, but we see from the way the people around him respond to him that this Ekko was very different, too. He hasn't had to grow up way too fast, and take up way too many responsibilities for someone his age. He hasn't become as angry as the Ekko we know, hasn't had cause to rage against the many injustices of a system stacked against him on both sides.

This Ekko is a relaxed, content, brilliant and recognised for it, genius little inventor, with a beautiful girlfriend who loves and supports him in his endeavours, and a wider family looking out for him to prepare him to step into a wider world of great possibility.

The way he conceptualises himself, as a resistance leader, a fighter and a protector, a boy saviour, he isn't ontologically any of these things. He isn't condemned by fate to step into those roles, doesn't become them out of some innate characteristics he just has. He is that way because circumstances forced him to become that.

And the same is true for Powder, for Jinx. She isn't inherently a jinx, regardless of what anyone including she herself may believe. She isn't the manifestation of misfortune for all, and he knows this. When he took her down in S1e7, and Jinx showed the suicidal Powder inside of her, he recognised this, and it's what stopped him from killing her then (even if she tried to blow him up.)

Even in that episode, she confronts him about this, calling him 'the boy saviour' in a tone that's halfway to an accusation. 'Why didn't you save me?' is what she halfway chokes out, where was her saviour (much in the same tone she'd use for herself when announcing herself as 'your big fat hero', because she wasn't able to believe in that concept either)?

Neither of them was able to address the matter then, because Ekko was still reasonably upset about the people she killed, and Jinx was dealing with a lot of complicated feelings she was expressing with violence, but it's his time here, with this Powder that gets him to reconsider.

'I've never seen you give up on anything,' and all that.

It helps that he meets a different Jinx who is, with some effort, willing to let herself be saved without trying to kill the person saving her.

(And not to be too down on our Jinx, Vi's death clearly hit this Powder hard, and she never quite built up the confidence to pursue her own ideas as a result.)

[obwjam]

a small surprise part 4 (gravity falls g/t)

back with a new chapter!! parts 1 • 2 • 3

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

The fist came down at an alarming speed, like it had materialized out of thin air. Jay was thrown backwards, and her head instantly smacked against the table, causing stars to pop in and out of her vision. The only thing she could hear was a faint, dull static, like her brain was a television that wasn’t getting a signal. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it would break through her chest. She didn’t have the strength to push herself to her feet. All of her limbs felt like they were paralyzed.

“Shit!” Stan yelled. Oh, he instantly regretted it. He didn’t even realize what was happening until his fist had already connected with the table. His subconscious must have saved him from actually touching her, but he got pretty damn close. He blinked, blinked again, and fully realized he almost just killed somebody. 

Again.

“Oh, god, kid, are you alright?” He bent down, putting himself at eye level with the writhing tiny. “Kid? I’m sorry, I didn’t — I wasn’t tryin’ to hurt you, I just — got carried away, that’s all!” She wasn’t responding, so he began to reach his hand out toward her, ready to nudge her back to reality. 

“DON’T!” she screamed, louder than anything he’d ever heard before. She managed to scramble farther away from him. “PLEASE! I–I’M SORRY – I WON’T – P-PLEASE! Don’t…”

Stan’s expression shifted. He knew what this was. She was begging for her life. Something had switched inside of her. Something Stan was not expecting. His hands were shaking, and he was unsure what to do with them. He hovered awkwardly, watching, before realizing that he suddenly felt grossly uncomfortable looming over her. The sheer force of his fist caused her to fall over. She was barely as tall as it. Stan could pinch her between his fingers and never feel the weight. She was miniscule. How was any of this real?

Jay was too busy rolling in pain to notice, but Stan sat in total silence for 10 minutes, his mind racing to figure out what to do next. Maybe Poindexter has some kind of cheat sheet on her somewhere. Maybe all those secret codes were about her and he didn’t want her to read them. How does she even read, anyway? The letters must look huge. Focus, Stan, focus. Maybe she needs some water? But I don't want to move right now. I could just ask her. But I don’t want to talk again. My voice might shatter her eardrums.

Eventually, Jay came to. She had shut her eyes tight for a while, hoping the pain would melt away on its own. Soon enough, it did, but even with her senses thrown off, the feeling of being loomed over was incredibly persistent. She didn’t want to see Stan, so gigantic and destructive, towering over her after he just tried to murder her. And she certainly didn’t want to hear his smarmy jokes about her begging for her life – the embarrassment of that was beginning to hit her hard. How could she even be in the same room as him ever again, knowing she had become the helpless, controllable little thing he so clearly saw her as?

Stan, trying to stay patient and silent, was only increasing Jay’s anxiety more. Why was he just… sitting still? She dared to take a peek and only saw Stan’s massive elbows pressing on the tabletop, his torso so big it looked more like an endless wall. She wasn’t prepared to hear him speak.

“Look, kid, I–”

But he stopped as soon as her eyes met his. The shock of her expression sucked all the air from his lungs. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes burning from tears. She was staring at him in horror, like he was some kind of – some kind of monster. Someone who acts so callously toward other people’s feelings and needs. A killer. Now’s not the time for this! But Stan’s mind wouldn’t let him rest. Not even as his hand twitched in his lap, unable to stay still. He jumped when she jumped; he had no idea how she was able to pick up on that movement. Disoriented and filled with anxiety, Jay slowly scrambled backwards until she found a stack of books to dive behind for cover. Stan just watched. There was nothing he could do.

Jay pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. Not being able to see Stan’s movements was probably a bad thing, but she couldn’t bear to be in his line of sight right now. She hadn’t cowered like this since first meeting Ford, and it all felt so eerily similar. Stan was just like Ford in as many ways as they differed – even if they didn’t share a face, she would be able to suss out their relation to each other. They both had this air of unpredictability and superiority, and Jay was now twice caught in the crosshairs. She had to get her hook. She had to get out of here. She had to…

Stan felt sick, just as he did in this very basement a week ago. It had been so long since he actually interacted with people, and he found that a lot of his survival instincts he prided himself on were not transferable to the real world; or even to tiny little people in the real world. Why did he think he needed to use violence to assert himself over someone as tall as a golf pencil? Why did she react so scared this time? Probably because you almost killed her. But nobody ever took him seriously. Why did she have to be different?

Stan sucked in a breath. Quit it, Stan. You can’t be doing this. But if he kept sitting there and staring at the books, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Fine. Then go work on the portal. Go be useful for once in your life.

It took Jay a while to notice he had left. She was too busy trying to stop her hands from shaking, and it took everything in her not to black out again from how fast the blood was rushing through her body. The sound of her own hyperventilating snapped her back to reality. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t even have any thoughts going through her head. It was completely, totally silent. She wasn’t even sure she could remember what words to use. But she eventually noticed that the vibe in the room had shifted considerably. The silence had become eerie, and the suffocating feeling was largely gone, replaced by an anxious panic. She hoped her senses weren’t betraying her, but a quick, subtle peek around the books confirmed that Stan was no longer sitting at the table, waiting for her to come out. She couldn’t see through the window, but a lot of clanging and a lot of cursing confirmed Stan had gone to work in the portal room.

Jay took the opportunity to finally stand up. She needed to grip the spine of the books to pull herself up because her legs were completely drained of energy. In a moment of panic, she thought she was maybe paralyzed from the incident, but she was able to take a few shaky steps. She blinked as her brain oriented itself, her eyes stinging, her world still turning. She didn’t quite understand why Stan had left the room, but she didn’t care. The only thing her brain had the capacity for right now was escape.

She stumbled over to her hooks, which were still woefully incomplete. Fuck it, she thought, wiping the sweat off her hands, I’ll just slide down the table leg – link these together, she managed to hook one piece of bent metal around the other with her trembling hands, then use this, she picked up, dropped, and picked up again what she had tied together for rope, and I’ll just wrap it around myself, and I can – I can – I just need –

Jay tried her best to assemble something that could get her safely down from the metal table, but she was trembling so hard that she could barely keep the hooks from slipping from her grip. And the more time she took, the more she panicked, and the more mistakes she made. The risk from falling from such a great height couldn’t be any worse than seeing Stan again. She had to hurry, quick, before he—

The stinging sound of scraping metal made Jay freeze so fast she could feel her blood turn cold. She was too numb to turn around, but having her back to him was even more terrifying. She slowly turned around, gripping her hooks so tight she thought she’d crush them.

Stan gaped back, eyes wide. It felt like he glitched temporarily before getting his ability to speak back. “Oh. You’re still here.”

She shrunk back, whimpering a bit and putting her hands in front of her chest in a protective position, tightening her white-knuckle grip on the hooks. She didn’t dare move an inch.

To her surprise, Stan, very slowly, lifted his hands up placatingly. “Don’t worry,” was all he managed to say in a scratchy, hoarse voice that barely sounded like his.

Jay couldn’t budge even if she wanted to. She was frozen.

“Oh. I see. The, uh, metal things,” Stan said clumsily, nudging his head at her hooks. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. I’d want to get out of my sight if I were you, too.”

Jay knitted her eyebrows. This was not the tone of voice she expected from him.

“Look, I didn’t – I didn’t mean to – I’m – I’m sorry, Jay,” he stumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Her heart skipped a beat when he actually said her name. “You probably won’t forgive me, and that’s alright, I don’t deserve it. It’s just – my life hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park. I don’t always… handle things the best,” he said, sounding profoundly embarrassed at admitting such a thing. “Never have, and I guess I never will. I’m just the Pines family screw-up.”

Jay arched an eyebrow. Her mind was telling her this was all an act – a pity party to draw her back in so he could do something awful. But her gut kept asking one thing: Why would he need to do that?

After a few tense moments, Jay lowered her hands and loosened her hold on the hooks. Stan, taking this as a sign of trust, slowly sat down, pushing the stool back a bit to put some distance between them. Now Jay felt comfortable enough to inch backwards until her back hit the stack of books. She didn’t even blink, in case Stan did something again.

“I know Poin–uh, Ford didn’t tell you anything about me,” he began, wringing his hands together, “but I, uh, don’t exactly have the most admirable past.” He took a deep breath. Why was this so hard? “I’ve had to do a lot of lying, a lot of stealing, just to scrape by. I lived out of my car for a while. Hah, I don’t even know how Ford tracked down the motel room I was staying in to send me that postcard.” He stole a glance at Jay, who wore the same skeptical look on her face. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s been a while since I’ve had… company. Or been around people who weren’t convicted felons. And when I came here, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else but Ford. And I sure as hell wasn’t expecting anyone three inches tall. So I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is, I just… need to remember how to act normal again.”

Jay was floored. The depth of sorrow in his voice was something she didn’t think a human was capable of. And as freaked out as she was, she could clearly see this was an attempt to reach out to her, to offer an olive branch without having to keep apologizing and reminding himself of the terrible thing he’d just done. He acted impulsively, and he knew it. Even after what he just did, he was making the effort to at least try and patch it up.

Ford did the exact same thing.

“I, uhm, I can relate. Kind of.” 

Stan’s eyes lit up for the briefest of moments at the sound of her voice. He didn’t think that would actually work. 

“Uhm..” Jay had to pause. This all felt so foreign to say. She had never related to a human about anything. “About the stealing part. And the not being used to company part.” Stan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Jay sighed. Was she really about to do this?

“I’ve told you a bit about… borrower stuff,” she said, keeping it vague in the hopes that he forgot most of it. “A huge part of the lifestyle – probably the biggest part, really – is the… stealing from humans part.” She gave Stan a chance to insert a witty remark, but he stayed silent. “We basically take anything and everything we can get while they’re not looking. Food, supplies… whatever we can get our hands on. And it gets pretty lonely, because most of us – we travel in small groups, or pairs. It’s not safe to be in a big group. I’ve…” She debated if she wanted to say this, but judging from the small tidbits Stan had revealed, she guessed it wouldn’t be so embarrassing to him. “I’ve been on my own for a while. It’s – well, it’s hard to remember times with other borrowers. I could go weeks without speaking, and it – it would have been normal. This… this is all pretty new to me, too.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s new to me. I know how to handle myself,” Stan interjected, immediately regretting his defensive tone when he saw her exasperated expression. “I mean… that sounds like it was really tough on you.”

Jay huffed a laugh. “Yeah. It was.”

There was an awkward silence as both of them tried to figure out what to say next. Stan was remorseful, and a little freaked out, but he just wanted to feel okay with himself as quickly as possible. He could barely handle the nervous side-eye she was giving him right now, and he wasn’t even doing anything.

“Look, uh, you don’t have t’be scared of me, okay? I did somethin’ stupid, I know I did. I shouldn't have tried to – it was just a reaction. I’m used to havin’ to punch my way outta situations. Sometimes I forget how… tiny you are.” Jay felt her stomach sink at the direct call-out to her size, and she shrank even more as Stan peered at her. “Like, I could breathe on you and hurt you.”

Jay crossed her arms. “Yeah, okay, I get it. Weak and helpless.”

“Well, you’re a pipsqueak, that’s for sure,” Stan said callously before shaking his head. “But no, you – that’s not it, I just – I know this is weird for you, but come on, you gotta admit it’s even weirder for me. Up until a week ago, I didn’t even know something like you even existed. Now I’m talkin’ to a person who can fit in my hand, and you… you’ve been hangin’ around Ford for months. I’m just a… different version of him.” A stupider, worse version of him.

Jay thought about it for a moment. She hated to admit it, but he did have a point. Stan wasn’t the first giant she’s ever dealt with, but she was his first tiny. And he just lost his brother after not seeing him for a long, long time. That was a lot to deal with. She didn’t really know what Stan had been through, but judging from the way he spoke about it… it didn’t seem normal by human standards.

“...I know,” Jay said quietly, sheepishly, but Stan still heard. “And I’m… sorry, for riling you up. I said those things to make myself feel better, because – you may think I have this superiority complex thing, but I mean, how else am I supposed to compete? You… Ford, Fidds, you guys are gigantic. You can do things I can only dream of doing. Hell, you do things I can only dream of without even thinking about it. It’s… hard not to feel worthless in comparison. It’s hard to feel like I even matter.”

Jay immediately flushed red. Why on earth did she just say that? Why was she confiding in Stan? She was saying things she had never even told Ford. This is so embarrassing. He doesn’t care! He doesn’t have sympathy for you! 

But to Jay’s surprise, Stan didn’t laugh at her or make another joke about her size. Instead, he sighed. “Trust me. I know how that feels.” Jay’s look of pure surprise and skepticism told Stan he needed to elaborate. “You only knew my brother for a couplea months, but I spent my entire life with the guy. I grew up in Ford’s shadow. He was the smarty pants know-it-all twin, and I was the trouble-making, dumb twin. My folks cared more about Ford’s homework than whatever I was doing.” Stan stopped himself. The last thing he wanted to do right now was relive this. Why was he even saying this to her? “Hah. Looks like we’re more alike than we thought, pipsqueak.”

Jay crossed her arms. “Woah, let’s not get crazy now,” she said, slightly defensive. But her small smile betrayed her. Stan smiled in return.

“Hah, right.”

Stan rubbed the back of his neck, and after a few seconds of silence, he stood up, ready to leave and be done with this. He said his apology – he said more than he wanted to, in fact – and that was more than enough. The exhaustion was clearly getting to him. He’d slept maybe a total of 10 hours over the past five days. Yeah, that was it. He was just tired, not thinking straight. He needed a good night’s sleep. Maybe a day’s break from code-cracking and journal reading and tiny little people who could sit in his palm would do him some good.

He made his way toward the exit, but stopped at the threshold. Something was nagging at him, and he needed a clear head.

“You, uh… you gonna be alright, kid?”

Jay’s eyes lingered on Stan. Her heartbeat still felt elevated, her breath hitching every time his fingers twitched as he wrung his hands together. The thought of being picked up by him again made her head start rocking. It took everything she had to look up at him, and even then, she could only hold her gaze for a few seconds before the bile started to rise to her throat. She had to take a few concentrated breaths once she realized her breathing was still shaky.

“Yeah,” she said finally. She wasn’t sure how much she meant it.

“Okay,” Stan replied. He wasn’t sure how much he believed her.

Stan stood for a few moments, sorting through his feelings. Nothing about this felt real. It was all happening so fast. But he would go to sleep tonight and wake up in the morning and she’d still be here while Ford was gone. Just like it had been for the last week. Just like it was probably going to be for the foreseeable future. It was stupid, and unfair. But Stan was used to unfair.

He found himself staring, still unable to process how he could barely make out her form among the clutter of the table. If he didn’t know she was there, he wouldn’t have noticed her. He hated how much that freaked him out.

Ugh.

“I, uh, I guess I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

Jay stared straight ahead, then down to the table. Her hooks sat on either side of her. She had tied up enough rope. She had thought everything out. She knew the way out.

But then she looked back up. Stan leaned on the doorframe, hands in his pockets, his expression cautious, his eyes hopeful. He regarded her with curiosity, not disdain. He was waiting for an answer. She let out a long, deep sigh.

“Yeah, Stanley. I’ll see you in the morning.”

[crushpunky]

girlfriend!reader has something to tell rafe

masterlist

warning: mentions of pregnancy, nausea/sickness/vomiting, depression/anxiety… yeah i know it’s a lot

Y/n already knew what the test was going to say before she even looked.

Positive.

With a deep sigh, she placed the piece of plastic onto the bathroom counter next to the other tests she had taken, all positive. Y/n ran a hand through her hair, pulling her legs into her chest, hugging her body tightly as tears slowly fell down her cheeks.

The anxiety had started a week ago, when she had awoken to what felt like a weight crushing her chest and a storm brewing in her stomach. Other than the occasional run to the bathroom to vomit, no matter how much she tried to do anything, she just couldn’t. Her motivation was completely diminished, replaced with a dull ache that refused to disappear. Rafe had noticed, doing everything in his power to help her, and he had helped; getting her anti-nausea medication and making her her favorite food. But still, something was off… which led her to where she was now, crying on the floor of their bathroom. Pregnant.

Pulling herself to her feet, y/n gripped onto the counter and peered down at the pregnancy tests. Thoughts raced through her mind, thousands of questions and concerns burrowing themselves deeper and deeper until her solemn tears turned into sobs that shook her entire body. As much as she loved Rafe, and wanted a future together, she was completely and utterly terrified. What if this set him off, forcing him back into old habits? What if she didn’t want this and he did, causing him to hate her forever? What if—

Y/n wiped her cheeks, inhaling sharply as she tried her hardest to will the anxiety overtaking her mind away. She could sit here all day, allowing these things to get the best of her, or she could figure out some answers… answers that could destroy everything she and Rafe had worked so hard to build. So, y/n did the hardest thing she had ever done: she grabbed the tests and walked down the stairs until she ended up in front of Rafe’s office.

Through the glass doors she could see Rafe focused on the monitors in front of him, biting his lip as his eyes scanned across the computer. Swallowing harshly, y/n raised her hand to the glass and knocked, drawing Rafe’s attention away from his work. At the sight of her, his lips twisted into a smile, waving her into his office.

“Hey, baby.” Rafe greeted as she opened the door, hesitantly walking into Rafe’s office. As she came closer and he noticed y/n’s tear stained cheeks, the smile on Rafe’s lips quickly fell. He pushed away from his desk, turning to face her entirely as she came to a stop between his legs, her hands clasping the test behind her back. Rafe’s hands fell at her thighs, his fingers tracing lightly along the bottom of her shorts.

“I need to tell you something.” Y/n whispered, not trusting her voice not to crack if she tried to speak any louder. Rafe straightened, his eyes wide as he stared up at her. He knew this past week had been difficult for her, his heart breaking every time he saw the same saddened expression on her face.

“Yeah?” Rafe said, his hands slowing to rest against y/n’s skin. Squeezing her eyes tightly, y/n brought her hands out from behind her back, revealing the piece of plastic that could change her life. The world fell silent for a second before y/n slowly opened her eyes. Rafe looked at the test, his mouth falling agape. Thousands of thoughts raced through his mind, wrapping around his heart and squeezing tightly.

“You’re… you’re pregnant.” Rafe whispered, swallowing harshly. They had always talked about the future, about a house, a dog, a wedding… a family, but now those questions all became so real. 

Rafe had always wondered if he could be a father. He wasn’t sure he would do a good job at it, having a pretty shitty example to build off of, but he wondered if he could do it; if he could love someone as much as he loved y/n, doing anything and everything for someone else that was a part of him and a part of the person he loved more than anything else in the world… but as y/n stood in front of him, her hands trembling as she held the test, he knew he’d do anything she wished. Anything she asked of him, any fear of his own or worry in his head he would have to face, he would do it if that meant she could be ok.

“I’m so scared.” Y/n sobbed, her knees buckling as she fell to the ground. Rafe pulled her into his chest, his arms wrapping around her as she sook with each sob.

“Hey, hey,” Rafe said, gently lifting y/n’s head to look at him, “I’ve got you, a’ight? I’m not fuckin’ leaving you. Ever. I love you and we’ll figure this out.”

Y/n bottom lip trembled before she hugged Rafe again, her sobs dwindling out to the occasional sniffle. With a deep breath, she faced him once more, his blue eyes a steady support as he waited for her to speak.

“I… I know we���ve talked a bit about the future but… Rafe, I want to have a family with you,” Y/n sighed. “And I know we’re still young and we’re not married but… I want that with you.”

Rafe smiled, his cheeks red as he ran his thumb along the curve of y/n’s jaw. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, smoothing her hair back as his eyes scanned over the woman in front of him. The woman who was there for him at his lowest, who saw the best in him, and loved him, truly loved him.

“I want that too, baby. All of it.” Rafe said with a laugh, a smile spreading across y/n’s cheeks. The two of them grinned at each other, the fear and questions dissipating as they recognized the love they shared that would allow them to get through this. Through anything.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” Rafe whispered, his eyes beginning to water; not because of fear or worry, but because of visions of a little version of y/n and him swam through his mind.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” Y/n laughed, to which Rafe wrapped his arms around her, lifting her in his arms as he stood in his office. He spun around, the two of them giggling in each other's embrace.

“We’re having a baby!” Rafe shouted before setting y/n back down her feet gently. Cupping her jaw, he pressed his lips to hers, the two of them smiling against each other. Even though their future was still uncertain, they knew one thing would remain: the love they had for each other… and the love they already had for their baby.

[helreginn]

Hel let her hand be taken and kissed and held. She sat quiet and listened to him pick up burdens like a child might pluck petals. Entirely unaware they'd be in the grass and far away by the time the porch light comes on.

Entirely unaware Hel had no such notions herself.

She gently touched his lips with the fingers he didn't hold. Truthfully, that.. hadn't occured to her until he gave it voice. It was true the circumstances were not much different the first time Odin had forced her hand; A grab at power he feared both losing and facing. A choice untimely revoked.

But it was a choice she had already started making.

Had she once given marriage a thought? No. Did even one of her future plans dis-involve Lucifer? Most ardently, no.

"Hey," She breathed shakily, "Don't.. This.." Settling her weight on her shins, Hel leaned up and captured his face in her hands, making sure he could only focus on her, "It would only be you." Her brows wrinkled slightly, unsure she should speak the rest but maybe it was important. And given she'd already said the hard part the goddess was finding that words weren't so tricky. Like a glass jug uncorked, the began to flow quite easy.

"If he tried it with anyone else, I would have just.. perished." She knew he would feel some type of way about that. Slid her hand over so he couldn't respond until she'd finished, "That is the mercy of being incarnate. I can die, if I wish. There is power in that. For me. But this? You and our misappropriated hearts? It's not like the first time. And it's not the same if it were someone else."

She replaced her hand with her mouth and kissed him tenderly, eyes falling shut. And then she pulled back just enough to press her nose into his cheek, "It's not fair that you're going mad feeling guilt over me when my every thought is sorrow for you."

Hel rested her cheek on his shoulder and let her left hand fall to his neck as the other came around his back. "I'd suggest divorce and re-marriage down the line," She offered playfully, "But I think it's safe to assume that particular legality will be nullified in whatever contract he and his pet concoct."

Luci took her hand and brought it to his lips, his touch gentle but deliberate. “Okay, cor meum,” he murmured. “I loathe the circumstances. I loathe that you’re in this position again, married off as if it’s not your choice to make. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I think the joining of our peoples might be a good thing—and that I’m glad we’re finally free to court openly.”

His gaze dropped, and the weight of his emotions was palpable. “It’s like a massive weight was lifted off of you, only for them to release it and let it come barreling down on you again. I’m sorry.” He paused, his grip on her hand tightening slightly as if grounding himself. “I wanted us to be free—to be happy—and instead, I’ve made things worse. I didn’t think through the cost of what I wanted... and now it’s fallen on you.”

He looked back at her, his eyes searching hers for any sign of reassurance. “This is my fault, and if I could take that weight off your shoulders, I would. You deserve more than this, more than what they’ve given you.”

It wasn’t a goodbye, but pure remorse etched across his features—for once again, he’d ignored her warnings, and it had cost her.

Sure, she had been courting him too, but now, with the privilege of hindsight, he couldn’t help but wonder: if he’d seen the bigger picture sooner, could he have approached things differently? Could he have protected her from this?

“I do not regret loving you,” he said firmly, his voice steady as he sought to reassure her. “I just wish there was a way we could sneak a win past those two—marry because we wanted to, on our own terms, in our own time, when we were ready.”

[dykedvonte]

i saw that u have ur own hc for curly and jimmy's backstory; do you have one for anya as well?

I do!!! It's actually a lot less depressing than you think!

I imagine that Anya grew up in an average happy family, well average for whatever lower middle class family is in a world we can assume exist in a place where late stage capitalism won. I'll try to keep this in line with how I describe Curly and Jimmy's backstories but she had a family that tried to uplift her when it matter. They paid attention to what she cared about and made sure they knew she cared. I believe they couldn't support her in school due to her path and the modern expenses but they encouraged her and her every choice. She didn't have parties but she got gifts to help her express and explore herself.

Life was something I think Anya handled well. She was not the top student but she was a good student. She managed her job and school as well as she could and took the PE job so she could go back. She had nothing saved up but she planned in accordance, hence her concern about the baby. She had a good circle of people, maybe not someone who ever got her, but people that heard her out and understood enough to where she always got herself. She had partners and thought about futures but always thought about hers specifically first, not selfishly, but truly asking if they were facing the same directions.

She was always in her own head, not in a bad way though. She was always thinking about what she could do. I think she just liked knowing she could. I think she became a nurse because she wanted to give people choice in the same way she understood it. Doctors just fix a problem but nurses walk you through it, I think Anya

I genuinely believe that because she lived thinking of all the choices she had and all the ways she could overcome things, the fact that she was trapped on board with so little escape and choices, while not being heard or understood really just put the pin in her final acts of agency.

[quartzskies]

random but is anyone else into yosurise but in a doomed kind of way. like kind of one sided. like a yosuke is into rise in a puppydog kind of way and rise keeps trying to find a relationship but can’t and finally decides to give yosuke a try because at least he’s a friend and she knows he won’t try to take advantage of her being an idol etc. And yosuke is ECSTATIC and wants to give her the world but in an unsustainable kind of way, a desperate “i don’t deserve her but she’s giving me a chance and i need to do anything i can to keep her happy” kind of way. And rise is so flattered and like yosuke is nice but she can’t match that dedication, no one can or should, but it’s all so one sided and she feels so guilty about that but she doesn’t want to break his heart or be “mean”. all while yosuke is becoming almost self destructive by trying to give her “what she deserves” but it’s an unhealthy level of dedication and it’s honestly hurting both of them

[disdaidal]

I saw a post about tomboys on my dash and I wanted to rant a little, but I got distracted halfway through and forgot what I wanted to say.

[helmarok]

im experiencing emotions about jessie and her pokemon

[arolesbianism]

Thinks oh so hard abt raccoon au printing pod doomed yuri.... What if you were a robot in love with your fellow robot but your past human selves had to fuck it all up and murder eachother 🙄

[leafiion]

I think abt saphira a lot.. head in my hands

[morganmnemonic]

I can't stop thinking about the relationship between Jon and Helen as perhaps one of the most important ones in the entire show. They are narrative parallels for each other, and they both know it. They've both known it from the very start!

Helen walks into the Archives, paranoid, unsure of who to trust, and Jon sees himself in her. And he thinks "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." Then he can't save her. The next time they meet, she's a monster. They're both monsters. There was never any other way their stories could have gone, their fates entwined from the very start.

And Helen answers his original thought with one of her own: "Maybe if we can help each other, there's hope for us both." But Jon looks at her and sees everything that he fears becoming, and so he turns her away, and refuses to accept that their stories are still one and the same.

Helen went to the last person who was ever kind to her, the only person who both knew her as a human and had the context to understand what she'd become, and he hated her. He hated her because he liked Helen, and told her that she couldn't be Helen.

So she stopped trying to be Helen, and embraced being a monster. Reveled in it even. Then Jon wakes up from a six month coma, more monster than person, and tries so hard to cling to the things that mattered to him when he was human. Even with no support, even with the entire archives staff against him, he chooses humanity and compassion over and over again.

And this is a direct threat to Helen's world view. Their stories are entwined. If Jon can continue to be a person even after everything he's been through, then she could have clung to her humanity too, if only she'd tried a little harder. And that terrifies her! She wants to conceptualize herself as someone who was completely overwhelmed by forces beyond her control, who never had a choice but to become a monster. She want's to be an innocent victim. But Jon argues with his actions that they'd both had choices.

And, Jon, in turn, holds out hope that she might make better choices until the very end.

This is the conflict between them for all of season 4 and 5. Jon wants to prove that they can both be decent people, and Helen wants to prove that they were never going to be anything but monsters. This is why she's so devoted to trying to goad Jon into enjoying his newfound godhood. She knows that they are the same, and wants that to mean that he has a spark of evil inside of him, and not that she was always capable of doing good.

When Jon kills her, she loses her life, but wins the argument. Helen is nothing but a dangerous monster who needs to be killed for the good of everyone, and in the moment he decides that, Jon dooms himself to the same fate. Their stories are one and the same. "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." he thought. But he couldn't help her, refused to, even, in the one moment when it actually mattered. And thus, there was never hope for him.

[beanlot]

ellie, who unexpectedly orgasms as she’s strapping you.

you thought something was off by how sloppy she was handling your hips, her fingers twitching impulsively and the thrusts of the silicone in your cunt is faltering. maybe her stamina is no longer, or maybe she’s just not into you.

but you hear her exhale shakily, her choked up breaths. people usually tried missionary first, but not ellie - she wanted to see you ride it reverse cowgirl, watch your ass from behind in doggy, and she wanted to hear you cry out speed-bump style.

but she’s on top of you now, your lower back angled comfortably on a sweaty pillow, legs hanging off the edge of the mattress.

“fuck.. fuck.. fuck—“ she whimpers silently to herself, and your glossed eyes are fluttering open. you’ll call out her name with difficulty, ellie?

that intangible pleasure in your cunt she used to hit with ease is starting to subside, but it doesn’t matter, because your core is tightening when you see her fucked-out expression. her lids shut, eyebrows arched in ecstasy and my god, williams.. it looks like you’re the one getting fucked.

the constant rocking has been stimulating her poor, swollen clit. and suddenly provoking her orgasm, her hips are twitching like crazy, whimpering exhales sloppily seeping from her lips.

“are you fucking coming?” you gasp jaggedly, feeling the silicone burrow deeply into your hole in these random and unanticipated twitches.

you’ll cup her face, and her skin is piping hot, melting into your sweaty palms. her eyes are closed, and even when they are fluttering, you can only see the pleasured whites of her eyes.

“mm—fuck-‘m sorry, i’m sorry baby-ah—..” she whimpers, too embarrassed to open her eyes fully for you to see her shameful irises, dilated pupils that are so selfish.

she’s using her remaining momentum to sporadically thrust into your soaked slit, encouraging those last ruffles of her rupturing orgasm, humming low and guttural as she does so. “felt so good—fuck, pussy feels so good, baby—“ she exhales breathlessly, her parted lips against your chest.

you can feel the hot air on your skin, condensation melting into the pores.

she tries to continue, for your sake, for your enjoyment. but it’s too much, oversensitivity that has her trembling like a loser; her arms are quivering as they try to hold her up. “i can’t-can’t go anymore—“ she whines, her measly thrusts forcing her clit into overdrive.

just the smallest tap has her overwhelmed. but you’re not satisfied, she knows this.

“keep going.” you demand, determined eyes maintaining a solid gaze at her own, your palms still framing her jaw. “i need to come too.”

and when she pauses, eyes glassy with the overbrimming bliss, you dip her face lower. her ear inches away from your lips, and you whisper with a callous hue. “you talked so much fucking game, so fuck me until i come. is that so much to ask?”

“i can’t-i can’t, it’s too—“ she tries to defend herself, tries to ignore the constant contracting of her hole; the rigorous pulsing of her tormented bud. but you’re quick to deflate it.

“it’s always about you, huh, ellie?” you murmur, slowly rutting your hips against the silicone. she can hear the challenge in your voice, the way you diminish her, the humiliating wetness of her slick.

and she loves it.

“stop being so selfish, and fuck me.” you order, your arms sprawling out to your sides - because you want her to put the work in, make the same mess of you as she did herself.

and she will. she’ll whine, she’ll beg, she’ll plead. it’s too much, i can’t, please baby as she fucks into you like you deserve. the veins in her hands prominent as she tries to keep herself steady, the definition in her abdomen from the clenching, and the pitiful way she’s crying out. whimpering for breath, a pleasured tear landing on your collarbone.

but she fucks you good, and you’re grateful for it.