#sorry i can't get the 'keep reading' to work!!!!

[vaguely-concerned]

thinking about not only the specific people lucanis pulls in to represent the 'locks' in his psyche, but the storytelling that happens in the structure/order of them. the underlying ideas are presented something like:

the lucanis who went into the ossuary never came back out again; he died down there (the boy caterina raised is gone forever) -> you're putting yourself in danger doing this (by being close to me), you should leave because I can't bear it if you get hurt because of me -> it doesn't matter even if we do try this, it won't work anyway (again because of me) ('you know what he's like, you can open the door but he won't walk through it' :'( oofie doofie) -> what if the real secret is that there was never anything but the monster in here from the beginning. you should leave, there was never anything here worth saving in the first place. (implicitly: what if I deserved what happened, all along.)

it runs pretty cleanly from outward-oriented attachment anxiety ('caterina won't even want me back like this, she won't recognize me (the same way I no longer recognize myself)) and gradually deeper inwards until we reach self-image and self worth. or you know, the harrowing basic lack of it lol.

"careful -- they'll know we're not right," spite says in one of their first scenes... but clearly, some very deep part of lucanis has feared or suspected for much longer than that that there's something inherently not right at the core of him, way before any demon entered the picture. and the voice he gives those lines to is the person who should know him better than anyone in the world, who he has loved more than anyone in the world -- and who deliberately chose to hurt him so horrifically anyway. 'It's better if I'm just a monster and deserved what happened than it is to allow for the idea that the brother I love doesn't really exist and maybe never did'. it's better if he's fundamentally flawed in some way that needed fixing to help him survive, and that's why caterina chose to hurt him again and again -- out of love. (this one I think he might have a very sad wakeup call on one day if he ever ends up with the responsibility and care of a child of his own in some way and realizes just how alien the idea of ever intentionally hurting them for any reason is to him. oh buddy. also interesting that he keeps caterina as the outermost lock -- there IS a distance he keeps there that he hasn't with illario. he doesn't resent her 'anymore' he says, but he also keeps her carefully further away from his deepest self.)

as far as I could tell the only note in the mind prison that's fully hidden and needs to be uncovered is the sad painful helpless stupid little truth that even after all this, even knowing what happened... he still loves his brother. is there anything illario could ever do that would make lucanis completely stop loving him, do you think? sometimes the trouble with unconditional love is that it is, well. unconditional, even when some terms and conditions probably would have been in order haha.

that's the pattern you see there again and again; he would rather destroy and abandon and imprison himself at every turn than let go of love, even when it's just scraps, even when there's only ever enough of it to hurt him. it's only when rook shows up and as it were takes his hand and walks along with him that he can entertain the idea of changing the story of what walking out the door might mean in the end.

[peppermintquartz]

Buck volunteers for the Thanksgiving shift. When Maddie asks, he apologizes, saying, "I don't really feel festive right now. But keep some leftovers for me?"

On the day, firehouses around the country all have similar calls to deal with: kitchen grease fires from frying turkeys, sprains in backyard games of football, people injuring one another because "did you hear what she said about our Emma/Francis/Kailey?". Buck is kept too busy to think, and it's nice having the time to catch up with Ravi, who's thinking of going to school to study law.

Their brothers and sisters in uniform also drop off dishes at the station, so between calls, they get pretty good food. Captain Graham gives them an hour offline after four consecutive calls. Buck collapses into a chair and serves himself pasta salad and a delicious honey baked ham, while his dinner rolls warm up in the oven.

He's scrolling through his phone, diligently avoiding the messaging apps, when a message preview pops up.

Tommy.

Buck almost drops his fork. He scrambles away from the dinner table, even though no one on C shift will try to take his phone from him, and finds a spot in the stairwell to read it.

Tommy: hope you have a good & safe Thanksgiving

As he's reading, another bubble appears and Buck's heart skips several beats, but this time it doesn't disappear. A second message arrives, followed by a third.

Tommy: don't know why I texted that

Tommy: guess I just wanted to say something to you

Tommy: you don't have to reply

Tommy: anyway. Happy holidays

Buck feels a slight loosening of the vice around his heart that has been there since that night. With a smile on his face, he types, deletes, types again.

Buck: happy Thanksgiving to you too

Buck: how many kitchen grease fires you got this year? We had 3

Tommy: you're working today?

Tommy: 4, but one of it was in the backyard

They're having a conversation. They're having an actual casual conversation, as easy as they used to on calmer shifts. Buck wants to cry. But he has to answer Tommy's question or have this conversation end too soon. Thinking about his options, he decides that he has nothing to lose anyway.

Buck: I didn't wanna sit around and smile and pretend I'm thankful for everything

Buck: it's better to keep busy

Tommy: I know that feeling

Tommy: I'm sorry

Buck: I'm sorry too

Buck: I wish we could've celebrated together

Buck: I would've said that I'm thankful for you

Tommy: I would have said that too

Tommy: I'm still thankful for you jsyk. I'll always be grateful to have got to know you

Does Tommy think he can't stay in Buck's life just because they broke up?

Buck: I don't think you know me well enough

Tommy: sorry

Buck wishes he'd run after Tommy that night, or done something since to show that he wants Tommy. Well, here's your chance, his brain reminds him. Do something.

He takes a deep breath. Then he types.

Buck: I want to meet. If I come over after Thanksgiving shift, will you please be home?

Tommy: is that a good idea

Buck: idk. But I can't stop thinking about you, and I miss you, and I wanna know what I did wrong. I wanna meet.

Tommy: I miss you too. You didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't want to... Idk. I didn't want to get my hopes up too much.

Buck: we need to talk in person. Texting is not good enough.

It isn't. He needs to see Tommy again. Tommy with his storm blue eyes and tender smile and broad shoulders and soft clothes. Tommy whose crinkly smile drives Buck a little (a lot) insane. Tommy whose lips he now knows the shape of by touch alone, whose body he has mapped out in detail, who knows how it feels to be inside Buck in the most intimate of ways.

He waits for a response. Hopes there will be one. It comes several minutes after, like Tommy had to really think about it.

Tommy: maybe not immediately after Thanksgiving shift

Tommy: are you off on Monday

The relief that crashes into Buck feels almost as overwhelming as the tsunami he was caught in years ago.

Buck: yes

Buck: your place this time

Buck: I'll bring cake

Tommy: you don't have to bribe me to open the door

Buck: no I just baked too much stuff is all. I'll explain when we meet

Buck: I'm really thankful you texted

Tommy: I'm thankful you replied

Tommy: have a good rest of the shift, Evan

It's Evan again. Buck can't hide his smile at all. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he goes back to dinner. Monday can't be here fast enough.

[annasellheim]

So this was on the @writing-prompt-s site- so I'm treating it as a writing prompt. (I can't fucking draw right now due to a busted shoulder, so I'm doing a bunch of them because I'm alone, hurt, and sad, and they're fun).

Anyway, the story:

I sat down next to him. I looked at my former student, now an adult. A brilliant engineer. I remembered him. I had really liked this kid. The man in front of me was impressive as hell too. It didn't surprise me at all.

"I'm really, really sorry this hurt you. That I hurt you. What I was trying to do was show you some techniques. My goal was that, later, after you learned them, you could deviate from them and make your own thing.

We have a set of guidelines of things we need to teach. It's a mandatory curriculum, with national guidelines, just like math or science or whatever. But it varies from state to state. And who the hell knows what they do in private school. And the curriculum isn't focused on self expression as much as teaching you how to use fine motor skills and..."

Shit, stop it Anna. You don't need to keep justifying yourself.

I try to remember when he had moved away during the school year. I wonder if I hadn't gotten to the point in the spring semester where I gave my students more lee way, to experiment and deviate from the techniques I showed them. To let them decorate their dishes any way they wanted. To make trees and flowers for different seasons. I wondered if he had been part of one of my first classes, before I figured out how to create a really solid curriculum.

Regardless, I could have been clearer about it. I was new to teaching when I had him as a student, I know that much. I was overwhelmed, and honestly, barely keeping it together for the first, like, 4 years I taught. And there were 20-30 students in my classes. It took me a a while to figure out what works and what doesn't in the classroom.

The most important thing was this man in front of me. He was way quieter and more hesitant than the kid I remembered. I hope I didn't do that to him, but I'm was probably reading too much into it.

I took a sip of my coffee.

"You know what's cool tho? The shit you've been doing at work-"

He looked surprised and snorted.

"What?"

"You swore."

It was my turn to laugh. "Yeah, to be fair I'm not in classroom mode right now.

Anyway, the stuff you've been doing at work, it all sounds like it takes a ton of creativity to accomplish."

"I never thought of it that way..."

"Well, you've been on the forefront of a bunch of stuff because you think outside the box. I'm glad I didn't rob you of that."

We sat next to each other on the bench. He was thinking it over. I was trying to not dwell on the fact that he brought this up, that he had carried this pain with him for 20 years.

"Do you still make art?"

"No, not since elementary school, since my last-"

"Your last required art class. Got it."

I gave him a side eyed glance.

"You know you can get back into it at any time, right?"

He was taken aback, he obviously had never considered it.

I smiled. I've had this conversation before, many many times.

"It's not like a sport or something. You can start at literally any point in your life, you don't need to be young and in peak physical condition. Art ain't basketball.

The cool thing too is that you can choose what you want to make, you're an adult. Nothing in art is required for you to learn. You can pick any class you want, or no class at all."

I gave him my business card.

"If you shoot me an email, I can give you some books to read for you to get started. Not to teach techniques, but exercises that help get you back to the point where you just make stuff. I think a LOT of people stop making art for all kinds of reasons, not just because of a novice teacher. There's been a bunch of stuff that's come out recently to try to help adults make art again. y'know, to recapture the joy of it."

We said our goodbyes. I really hope he thinks it over and reaches out.

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

[flw3rrr]

I love the idea of sevika with a retired brothel worker. Like they fell in love and sevika got her a job at the last drop or smth.

I also love the idea of mama sevika. I would love to give her a child 😭 so maybe domestic fluff around sevika her wife and their child. Lil' Families are my favorite thing

The bright side of things

Parings: Sevika x Retiredbrothelworker!reader

Warnings: Nothing major, Fluff, just full on FLUFF, No mentions of Y/n, and no description of reader. Sevika trying to seem tough around the kid, but fails. (100% let me know if anything is missed!)

Word count: 1.4k

Not proofread! sorry for any typos. I wrote this at like 2 am....oops

A/n: Thank you so much for this request. I loved this idea so much when I first read it, so I had to do this one immediately! 

(I have so many more amazing requests in my inbox, and I'll get to them soon! Thanks so much again for sending this, and I hope you enjoy it)

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

Ever since you retired from working at the brothel, life seemed more simple and comfortable. Sevika, who you met a few months ago before your retirement, had grown onto you. The way she carried herself whenever she would stride around the building made you burn inside a little.

It all got better when you were told you were booked for an hour. Dreading what kind of person you'd have to entertain or boost their ego to make them feel something, but with a big surprise when your face met with Sevika's, she was leaning back, legs spread open as a cigar sat on her lips. That's how everything started for the both of you.

Sevika offered you a job at the last drop when you first told her of your retirement; it got tiring and exhausting physically and mentally. Your heart melted at her offer and took it immediately. It's something you never in your life thought you would work at, but what can you expect? It's a way better job than working at a brothel, body sore and no break.

You always remember to thank her whenever possible; Sevika isn't the type to show affection in public, so you'd always kiss her on the cheek and lips as a way of thanking her. Sharing each sweet moment with one another in your new shared apartment. The undercity wasn't some fairytale place to grow up, but with her presence, it made you forget everything.

Sevika likes that you took her offer on working at the last drop. She now gets to keep an eye on you, especially when she plays poker, and in the quick moment whenever you'd hand her a drink, your eye's lock on hers every time you hand her the glass, a soft and sweet look. Of course her gaze locks in yours in return, but never softens; she can't let half of the undercity that she's practically on her knees for you.

And this is where the both of you are now, still together and head over heels for one another. The two of you sat on the couch that sat in the small living room; you held a sketchbook, drawing random doodles, never being the professional type, though. Sevika just watches you making a game of her own on trying to guess what you're making or stares very confusingly at it. Everything was quiet and calm until a thump was heard from one of the bedroom doors.

The sound of feet padding against the wooden floor became louder until a small girl appeared with a huge smile on her face. Immediately she decided to join the both of you on the couch, but rather than sit, she began to jump and speak very fast.

"Can I please, please, pleaseee come to work with you, Momma? I want to make drinks with you." Speaking so fast, neither you nor Sevika could comprehend a single word. Glancing at Sevika for a quick moment and back to the child before stopping her from jumping on the couch to avoid any possible injuries.

"Selani, remember what we both said about jumping on the couch? You could get hurt easily." Her smile dropped as she looked at Sevika, who spoke about 'the couch wasn't cheap.' Selani gave a nod in return before sitting herself down onto the couch. Both you and Sevika took Selani in after you both found her alone with nobody near; it broke your heart badly, and with not much nagging, you both quickly became her adoptive parents.

You could tell Sevika cared for her just as much as you did, catching moments between the both of them, Selani play fighting with Sevika, who obviously would go easy on the kid knowing her strength would accidentally crush or break a bone. Or whenever Sevika's arm needed to be repaired or a quick fix, Selani was standing right by her, being the best helper.

Slowly shaking your head, sitting down by Sevika once more, both of you would take Selani with you to the last drop, as you had nobody to watch over her. Thank goodness for Jinx sometimes, but you never wanted to pressure her watching over some kid, but she always proves you wrong when Selani is gone, in seconds walking away with Jinx to do whatever.

Sevika did whatever Silco wanted her to do, whether it be cleaning up one of his messes with people or looking scary behind him. But she is graced with time to herself, which is usually at the table playing poker. You'd always say her playing poker was a show just for you because you got to watch her from afar enjoying the smirk her face always held as the other players held a look of defeat.

"You lucked out, kid; none of us are going today." Sevika spoke up, breaking you out of your train of thought. Selani frowned at the news of not going out. She always wanted to be out exploring or at the last drop, whether it be with Jinx or sneaking away and somehow finding Silco and bothering him; he seemed to not mind, you hoped.

"What? Why not?!" Crossing her little arms in frustration, both of her eyebrows slanted. That is the start of a tantrum you've grown to learn from the years you took her in--not fun at all, you remembered. It took both of you time to learn how to be parents to a child, having no prior experience, though Sevika had a tiny bit from when Jinx was younger.

Sevika let out a huge sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose before looking back up at Selani. "Because we both got the day off, and you usually take those for granted, trust me, kid." Selani's gaze just stared at the both of you; confusion covered her face. The both of you never had a day off, so why now all of a sudden? Adjusting your body to sit more straight, you faced her directly, a soft smile placed on your face knowing it's good to talk to her straightforwardly with a few restrictions but to help her feel more validated and that she had your attention.

"It's a good thing not to worry, Selani; it just means me and Sevika have the whole day with you to play or cook, even just relax if you wanted." As soon as those words left your mouth, her face lit up as if she saw a whole pile of candy with a sign that said free. "Really!" A toothy grin appeared with one missing front tooth. Giving her a nod, she immediately shot up, running over to the both of you.

Once she was in front of you both, you could tell many ideas of games were filling her little mind. Taking both of your hands, making you stand. "Do you guys have any game ideas?" Selani asked, pride filled within you, teaching her to always ask her friends if they had any ideas before doing all of hers to ensure a fair game. Within a second, Sevika tapped her shoulder before dragging you away, running. "Your it!" is what you had managed to comprehend.

"That's cheating!" Selani yelled, her laugh heard behind you as you both ran. Now ending up in your shared room with Sevika, you purposely slowed down, letting Selani catch up and tap you. Quietly, you both teamed up to get Sevika and corner her. She went in the other room first, then you followed behind.

Immediately, Selani ran at Sevika, jumping on her; following Selani's actions, avoiding hitting them both, the three of you land onto the bed. Laughter could be heard throughout the whole apartment. And if it was heard by anyone, they would only think how happy you all are. This was your safe spot, where happiness is the love of your life and beloved child. 

Sevika carefully flipped Selani over the bed, and a game of play fighting began. You watched to make sure they both didn't get hurt, and to your surprise, Selani pulled the kick method. "You called what I did cheating. What you're doing is cheating!" She joked, a smile plastered on her face as she managed to get ahold of Selani.

In a moment, Selani whispered something to Sevika, and a grin grew as they both slowly turned to look at you. "Uh oh, what's going on?" With a blink of an eye, they both grabbed you, landing back onto the bed, Selani tickled you on your stomach.

Even if your laughs filled the room, your thoughts only held on how much you adored this moment and would cherish it forever.

Life for you got automatically better and brighter once they both entered your life, and you'd never trade it away.

[beanarie]

i never wanted water once part 3

tommy is also breakup baking, prompted by my dear @sanguinarysanguinity

tw: mention of parent death, mention of child abuse

part 1

part 2

~

Gutierrez eyes him on his way out of the locker room. "Feel like no one ever sees you anymore. You coming back to the pickup game or what?"

"Oh." Tommy gives his damp hair one last rub from the towel. "I wasn't planning on it, to be honest. Too awkward."

Gutierrez frowns. "Why?"

"You know," Tommy says, wishing he didn't have to, "Eddie Diaz. I broke up with his best friend."

"Diaz hasn't shown in weeks. Probably got injured. You know how that crew is."

And that. Well. He and Eddie were friends. They became tight very quickly in a way Tommy hasn't experienced with many people. He shouldn't have thrown a connection like that away without at least trying to salvage it.

He sends a text, a polite, generic one asking about his welfare. Worst thing that can happen is Eddie tells him to fuck off and he's back where he started. He fully expects to be left on read.

He does not expect Eddie to tell him he's moving back to Texas because he's given up on his son deciding to come home. Eddie invites him to a pre-going away dinner at a bar and grill before he goes down South for a few days to scout out homes. And, no, absolutely not. But Tommy proposes getting a drink, just the two of them. Eddie very validly explains that he can't spare the time, since he's already started packing up his life and he's working overtime to save up for a down payment. Tommy gets it. He does.

The day after the dinner, Eddie calls him. "Hey, man. I know we're like two ships passing in the night, but I didn't want to leave without a proper goodbye. I still got some more shifts before I move for good, but the time will go by quick. We'll just stay on the line, okay? Keep me company while I go through my kitchen cabinets."

"It's good to hear from you," Tommy says honestly.

"So yeah." Eddie hums. "Why'd you do it?"

"Text you?" Tommy says. "I heard that-"

"Kinard," Eddie says, unamused.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"You just didn't seem the type to flee."

None of you know me as well as you thought you did, Tommy doesn't say. That's not fair to any of them. "I wasn't, in the past. Well, I tried not being that. A couple times. It didn't work out."

"Oh," Eddie says. "There it is."

"There what is?"

"You've got shit."

"Haven't we all?"

"Hey, I am not denying that." Eddie chuckles. "Do you plan on dealing with it, or letting it blow up every good thing you find until you die?"

"Jesus, Eddie."

"What's the point in mincing words? You did something dumb and destructive. What kinda friend would I be if I let that go without saying anything?"

"So what's the weather even like in El Paso? Does it ever get below 100?"

After a groan, Eddie lets Tommy talk about his shit, about Texas, parenthood, and chess clubs, for the rest of the call. Tommy can't say that he'll miss him. He missed him already and now he gets to continue doing so. All of this sucks.

Tommy tries his hand at gnocchi made with ricotta, lemon, and pepper that subsequently almost causes a fistfight during B shift.

Demetra favors him with a warm smile, taking in the large box in his hands. "Tom, right? Welcome! What's all this?"

"Tommy," he says easily, impressed she remembered his name at all. He hasn't been to this slightly dusty community center in five or six years. "Uh, this is garlic knots and mini calzones."

"Well, hey. You're even more welcome than before. Come take a seat."

December is a stupid time to rejoin group, many of the participants close to the edge from a cocktail of seasonal depression, missing dead loved ones, and generalized loneliness. Tommy knew it would be like this going in. He counted on it. Everyone will have so much to say that there likely won't be any time for him to open his mouth. He's not ready to spill. It will help to just soak in the atmosphere of unashamed honesty for a while.

At his third meeting, Cal, a slender guy in his mid twenties with a curly mohawk, keeps bringing up his mother. "She never wanted me to enlist," he says, "and now that I'm back home and struggling, she can't stop being all 'I told you so' morning, noon, and night. She never says it, but she is thinking it."

"Is she?" Tommy finds himself asking. "Or are you putting something on her that isn't there?"

"Maybe so." Cal pops one of Tommy's fried ravioli in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. "I don't know, I should probably give her a chance, think first about what she's actually saying before I react. But it's hard in the moment, you know?"

"Tommy?" Demetra says a minute later, making him feel like a kid being called on by the teacher. "How's your relationship with your mom?"

"Nonexistent. She died when I was fifteen." He crosses his ankles. "Fell asleep in the car on our way back from an away game and we couldn't wake her up. Heart attack."

Demetra frowns sympathetically. "That must've been hard for a kid to witness."

"I've seen so much worse since then. People shot in the head by machine guns, people covered in burns over most of their bodies..."

Demetra shakes her head slightly. "They weren't your mom."

He ducks his head, pressing his lips together. "True. It's just- That's not- It's not trauma. I don't fear falling asleep and not waking up."

"What do you fear?" Cal asks.

Being left, being hurt, being validated in his belief that no one will ever see him for all he is and choose to stick around. "Standard stuff, really. Clowns, taxes, drivers on the freeway."

He gets a pity laugh, a groan or two, and one outright glare. "Okay, okay." He exhales loudly. "Ending up alone by someone else's choice rather than mine."

"So you're cool with being on your own, as long as you're the one keeping everyone away," Cal says.

God, that sounds idiotic. "Yes?"

"You prefer it like this?" asks a woman about his own age wearing a green bomber jacket.

He shrugs. "It's not ideal, but as far as worst case scenarios go, it's okay. It's fine."

"It's spineless," says a gray-haired man with a Desert Storm hat.

Tommy doesn't flinch. "Yeah, that's kind of an inherent character trait. I keep thinking I got it licked, then it shows up wearing another face. Scared of my dad, so I joined the army and became someone he couldn't hurt anymore. Scared of people knowing I was gay, so I waited to come out until I was surrounded by brand new people. Scared of my boyfriend leaving, so." He pushes at the skin above his knees, kneading it. "So I left him first."

"You fall back," says Bomber Jacket. Her name is Annie or Angie. She has conflicted feelings about dating a man with kids. "It's easy to stop being scared when the thing that scared you is far away."

He hears Eddie. You just didn't seem the type to flee.

Demetra holds up a hand. Tommy's face must be doing something concerning. "No one here faults you for what you did to survive. Is it still serving you, is the question, or is that just what you're used to?"

He doesn't bake when he gets home. He drinks half the beers in his fridge and does a shockingly efficient job of cleaning his house, while drafting and deleting twenty-seven different texts. He then wakes up the next day, and goes to the pickup game.

Gutierrez scores four rebounds on him and doesn't shut up about it for the rest of their next shift. Tommy grumbles, and talks shit, and promises he won't have much to brag about next time.

[luvinqstvrnz]

A/N: I've read a lot of other fics, but I wanted to write my own; Keep in mind this is my first time posting/writing a fic to be posted publicly (lmk if there's anything I can do to improve)

Summary:

You've been with Chris for a year or two now, but you never knew exactly what he did and how he made his money, curious you decide to follow him after he leaves your apartment...

Content warnings (MDNI): Fluff, use of pet names, use of y/n, drugs, etc.

dealer!Chris x f!Reader

You and Chris have been together for about a year and a half, he's always been so secretive about what he does when he leaves after you guys have been together for a few hours (or days), you knew he had 2 triplet brother's that he lived with and everything they did on the regular.

Chris never told anyone publicly about your relationship afraid of how the internet and how they would react, he didn't want you getting death threats or anything crazy so you both mutually decided not to be public about your relationship on the internet.

You knew about Chris's job as a YouTuber but what could he possibly be doing at 12am for hours before he talks to you again? One night you decide to follow him when he leaves your apartment, trying to be very sneaky about your every move. Eventually all of his driving around lead you to a warehouse. You knew about the warehouse him and his brother's had but this was not it. You carefully stepped out of your car making sure you didn't alert anyone in the area around you. You watched quietly as Chris walked up into the warehouse and quickly followed behind him, making sure no one saw you.

As you tip toed past the other people in the warehouse the overpowering stench of weed hit your nostrils.

“Jesus Christ...”

You say softly under your breath; You've never been around this much in your life, what in the world was this place? Suddenly you see Chris emerge from behind some door.

“What the fuck do you mean we don't have enough to fulfill this order? I specifically told you-”

You hear him raising his voice to another guy in the warehouse, you've never seen Chris yell at anyone besides his brother's. You felt a bit turned on by him, the way he put other people in there place. You've never seen this side of Chris before...

Suddenly a hand reaches from behind you and grabs your shoulder, making it so you can't move.

“Yo Chris! Who's this chick? Do you know her?”

You've never heard this voice before, you had no idea who this was. Chris immediately looks over and sees you standing there, all you can do is stare at him. You're frozen, it's like someone paused you, you had no idea what to do.

“Y/n? What the- How the fuck... How did you get here?”

Chris says to you in a calm but stern voice, nobody knew of this place but him and the people who worked for him.

“I-I.. I-”

Your words were frozen, you couldn't mutter a word.

“Let her go. I'll take it from here...”

You hear him command the man behind you and he grabs your hand and leads you out of the warehouse.

“How did you get here? Are you hurt?”

He asks you lovingly. You just shake your head, you've never seen this side of Chris. Where did all of this come from? How did he keep this a secret from everyone for so long?

“You could've gotten seriously hurt... Why the fuck did you even think to follow me?”

He sounded stern and aggravated, he still sounded caring though, it was like he was mad but relieved you were okay.

“I-.. I really just wanted to know where you keep going when we part... I didn't ever think it would be... This?!”

You tried your best to keep your composure, you didn't want Chris getting upset at you, or anyone for that matter.

“Look, I'm sorry I never told you ma... It's just no one could or can ever know about this, not even Nick or Matt know.”

He paused and looked at you, trying to find understanding in your eyes.

“I can see why you don't want anyone to know... I'm sorry...”

He looked at you softly and leaned in to kiss you. He kissed you softly and bit your lip lightly as he pulled away.

“Do you want a ride home ma?”

You thought about it for a while and finally accepted, you didn't know what would happen if you went home with him right now but you knew he wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want him to.

He drives you to your appartment and let's you out of the car. He walks you up to your door and stops you before you go inside.

“I didn't know if you'd exactly want me to come in with you but uh... If it's okay with you... I'd like to.”

Chris doesn't normally ask to stay, he usually just stays without question. This worried you a bit.

“Of course you can stay... Why wouldn't you be able to?”

A wave of relief washes over him as he steps inside right after you, he leisurely walks over to your couch and crashes down on it, causing it to bounce with him.

“I'll be over there in a second, let me change real quick my clothes reek...”

You finished changing and walked into your living room, Chris was spread out on your couch watching his phone. You walked over and sat next to him, he placed one of his arms around you and pulled you close to him.

“So...”

He said slowly, trying to start conversation, you could tell he was a bit nervous considering everything you've seen tonight.

“So?”

He looked at you, his eyebrows were a bit furrowed and his eyes were wide.

“You're not... Mad?”

You just stopped and looked at him lovingly. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips and played with his hair.

“No, Chris. I'm not mad.”

He looked at you relieved and kissed you softly. You kissed him back, you started thinking of earlier when he told off one of the other people at the warehouse and your thighs lightly squeezed together. You pressed your lips onto his more passionately and cradled his face in your left hand.

“Y/n?”

He broke the kiss and looked at you but you ignored it and kept kissing him. After a few minutes of making out with him, you guided him to your breast's, your nipples were already hard from thinking about that time in the warehouse and kissing him. You felt him squeeze your breast's and pinch your nipples from above your tank top. Eventually you get on top of him and straddle his lap, slowly rubbing yourself against his length, it didn't take long for him to get hard. You kissed him and dry humped him for a few minutes until you heard his phone ring.

“Fuck!”

He whispered, he looked at you to make sure it was okay if he answered it, you nodded, he composed himself and answered his phone.

“Yeah, I'll be back in a minute.”

He said to someone over the phone and hung up.

“I'm so sorry baby but I have to get back to the warehouse.”

“It's okay Chris, don't worry about it.”

You watched him leave, knowing it wouldn't be the end of this interaction...

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in Nov 2024. For more new fics, check out this month's fic roundup here. You can find my other fic recs here. So sorry that I'm not yet ready to get back to podcasting yet, but I still want to acknowledge all the great fics I read this month. Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments!

- Louis / Harry -

🍂 Bloom Just For You by @sunshineandthemoonlight

(E, 7k, established relationship) Marcel has never been happier; he has a job he loves, a boyfriend he adores, and a sex life with said boyfriend that exceeds his wildest of fantasies. But there’s one thing he and Louis haven’t yet tried in the bedroom. And he can’t get the thought out of his head...

🍂 i will become yours, you will become mine (i choose you) by localopa / @voulezloux

(T, 7k, established relationship) it’s the day louis never thought he’d ever see. it’s the day that harry proves to his boyfriend he’s here forever. a don’t be afraid to love (and love again) proposal. Part 3 of trans louis verse

🍂 Wish You to Ashes by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 6k, witches)  the one where witch Harry is heartbroken, and resorts to a risky spell to rid him of his ex. It doesn’t exactly go as planned

🍂 Can't Imagine You Without The Same Smile In Your Eyes by galactic_larry / @galacticlarry

(T, 4k, soulmates) It’s been over a week since Harry’s first semester at university began, and he has had zero new exciting friendships or noteworthy experiences, just a bizarre dream that keeps waking him up in the middle of the night.

🍂 Still Dreaming ‘Bout You by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel

(T, 3k, famous/not famous) Harry doesn’t pay much attention to football. That’s proven even more apparent when the biggest football star in the UK walks into his juice bar and he doesn’t even notice.

🍂 this night is sparkling (don't you let it go) by @tracksuitponytail

(T, 2k, friends to lovers) Halloween reunites witch Harry and vampire Louis for their annual celebration in Harry’s countryside home. Will magic play a trick on them – or turn the night into an enchanting treat?

🍂 What’s that flower you have on? by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

(G, 1k, farm) Nobody dares comment, but Louis can tell they pity him. They think he’s being ridiculous. They think the whole thing is mad. But Louis knows. He just knows that Harry will show up.

🍂 You Bring Me Home by skipper / @skipperxao3

(NR, 1k, friends to lovers) There’s a sound behind him, and he glances briefly to see his reason approaching him. His past, present, and future. He’s found his home.

Souls Nailed Together by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 1k, magic) Harry Styles has a lot of bad luck and a Problem Fixer on speed dial.

🍂 can't hide from yourself by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(M, 666 words, suspense) Harry's home alone, faced with his reflection. And something's not quite right.

🍂 A Romantic Nightmare by @neondiamond

(NR, 666 words, horror) After a long day of work, an unexpected romantic dinner awaits Harry in his new flat.

- Rare Pairs -

🍂 To start again by @loretheloner

(E, 27k, Louis/Michael Blackwell) Louis finds himself slowly falling for a bandmate again, despite Oli's warnings against it. Michael finds himself slowly falling for his boss and fighting against the ghost of Louis' past relationship. 

🍂 No More Days Alone by @signofcomfort

(M, 6k, Louis/Isaac Anderson) Isaac finds himself lost amidst the tour but Louis is always there to find him.

🍂 i tell myself i'm done with wicked games by haveufoundwhaturlookingfor / @sup3rbloom

(T, 5k, Louis/Michael Clifford) Omegaverse: Alpha Louis has never questioned who he is, a strong, loving Alpha who defies stereotypes. When he meets Michael, a beta, he certainly doesn't expect to fall for him (and hard).

🍂 I want yesterdays love by edensrose / @holdingthornsandroses

(M, 4k, Louis/Dev Patel) “I’ve rented us a cottage near the beach. Me, you, Calvin, Rick, and Dev.” Louis makes a noncommittal noise but can’t deny his heartbeat racing at the mention of Dev.

🍂 Snouts and Stouts by @turnyourankle

(T, 3k, Louis/Greg James) At a yearly canine festival, Louis discovers that Clifford has a thing for a certain bakery's treats.

🍂 I've drowned and dreamt this moment by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 2k, Zayn/Louis) There has been a rivalry between them since they were young. Since the very start of their careers. It’s always been Louis and Zayn, the ones to watch. The ones to do battle and ultimately share the podium.

🍂 Countdown by @allwaswell16

(M, 2k, Louis/Tommy Shelby) Tommy Shelby, pack alpha of the Peaky Blinders, has taken notice of The Garrison Pub’s new barmaid, an omega named Louis. A prequel to One

🍂 Flying Over on My Own Tonight by @haztobegood

(E, 1k, Louis/Jack Cochrane) Louis is on his way to Monterrey, Mexico, where he'll headline Tecate P’al Norte music festival for the first time. A text from Jack makes the flight a bit more interesting.

[eerna]

Hi, I read a little bit of your rant about Arcane, but then I stopped 'cause it's making me notice so many things and so sad thinking about what a perfect series could have been if... what? They had more time? If there were someone else with the writers that pointed out things? If they had another act? Maybe two?

For what I have understood act1 was supposed to be the last one in season 1, right now I can't find the source, maybe I'm just imagining it? Idk. But even the season 1 opening finished with Jinx and Vi's fight.

If that's so, maybe season two was supposed to be four act and not two acts super full of things to talk about, to develop, and also so not to forget the starting point of all of the Arcane.

Or maybe this is just me rumbling about a series that I love and I can't accept that they finished it forgetting things really important about Arcane, and it hurt so much.

But I also loved it. It was beautifully done, songs, animations, and voice acting, I know that ending for CaitVi was a little controversial, but I'm keeping that salame in my eyes and be happy for them. Is it so wrong to do this?

Sorry about my English, I don't usually write, but I wanted to express these feelings.

Pls don't apologize for your English, I'm not a native speaker either, we are totally on the same page~ The first arc DID feel like the conclusion to s1, so maybe you are right about that!

Listen, you get to choose how to deal with a show you love ending in an unsatisfying way! I can't police how you are supposed to express your feelings! I can only offer you my thoughts on the matter, and those are this. Engaging with criticism and reading detailed explanations of what didn't work is not a moral responsibility. I express my love for media by analyzing it to bits and pieces, and that's how I deal with disappointment, too. I like to understand why I love something, and I like to understand why I don't love stuff, too. It's just my way of interacting with fiction, not some kind of an ethical statement! I only have a problem with those who think all criticism should be silenced. Those people enter the realm of anti-intellectualism, where the only correct way to interact with media is as a mindless consumer only processing what the writers want you to think and feel and nothing else. So in my opinion, it is not at all wrong to tune out the criticism and just enjoy the good parts of the show for what they are. Because even with all the complaints about the writing, the show excels in every other area, there is a ton to enjoy about it!!

[ktlurksforsomereason]

A few new thoughts + theories about obxanon and Rudy's departure

I keep seeing the same angry, recycled theories on obxtwitter without a lot of critical thought, which like fine, people are mad, I get it. But I've been really trying to take my emotions out of the situation and just consider how this could realistically have happened, and I have a few theories that I want to put out there.

I think #obxanon is Lilah Pate, OR someone very very close to Lilah or the Pates. Why do I think this? For one, #obxanon mentions Lilah far too much. Like I'm sorry, she's just not that important lol. She's a nepotism baby riding on daddy's coattails, and she was not a major player in any of the bts drama until #obxanon mentioned her specifically in their first (now deleted) post. #Obxanon also seems to know a lot about the personal relationships between cast members, far more than a crew member or a producer might know (specifically in the way they describe Rudy and Madison's history/feelings towards each other). This tells me #obxanon is someone who personally spent time with the cast, especially in the s1 era. Finally, in a previous post, I've talked about how #obxanon is very bias against Rudy and for the Pates. I believe SOME of the facts they present (a lot of it is bullshit and opinions), but I think whoever is behind that account has personal anger towards Rudy and Elaine, especially Elaine. #Obxanon mentioned personal conflict between Elaine, the Pates, and LILAH. Why is that even important? Because Lilah thinks she's important, and Lilah is #obxanon.

2. In saying this, I think #obxanon's first post in August leaking JJ's death was an intentional move by the Pates (and maybe Netflix) to sus out how audiences would feel about JJ dying. I just can't believe that Netflix/HR wouldn't be cracking down on every single person who could know this information if they weren't already allowing it to be leaked. Like the first post? Huge leak of insider info. But ok, JJ death theory was gently leaked during Morocco filming so maybe not a drastic break of HR policy. But the second post after s4 part 2 dropped? And continuing to post answers to fan questions up until very recently? There's just no way. Someone would be getting sued. A crew member would be out of the job. The Pates would be putting a stop to it. Unless it was intentional. Unless it was Lilah. Who wanted to

a. gently prepare audiences for JJ's death,

b. get a feel for how angry people would be, so they could edit/prepare to launch their bullshit PR "he was always gonna die" statement,

c. know whether they should renew the show for 1 or 2 more seasons, depending on how much viewership would be lost,

d. maybe even try to convince/guilt-trip Rudy into changing his mind based off of fan response? And if that last ditch effort didn't work,

e. proactively shift the blame onto Rudy to redirect fan outrage, meaning the writers/showrunners could take slightly less heat.

The show getting renewed for a 5th and final season BEFORE part 2 dropped and all hell broke loose? This tells me that they had a solid idea of how bad it might be and opted out of the original 6 season plan. They probably didn't know it would be THIS bad lol, but clearly the writers have their heads up their own asses and don't know how shit they actually are, so they underestimated big time.

And before people start saying this is a conspiracy and couldn't be PR, I really wouldn't underestimate how involved marketing teams can be, especially for a high budget #1 show on Netflix. The Pates mention all the time how they read and monitor fan feedback. Like, if the obx twitter account can interact with fans the way they do? They can definitely be sneaky about leaking info on tumblr through an anonymous yet extremely, SUSPICIOUSLY informed source.

And finally,

3. I think the reasons for Rudy leaving (and I absolutely believe that he left) are far more complicated than simply "Elaine was jealous." I think the way he handled it was messy and shitty and immature, but I've tried to theorize WHY and I've come up with a few intersecting reasons. I want to preface this with I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW. But I like trying to understand people's decisions, it makes them more human to me and allows me to move forward with empathy rather than anger. So here's what I think:

a. He and Madison were previously FWB. I can't pretend to know the timeline or why it ended. But it happened sometime in 2019/2020 and Elaine was unaware of this (or at least how strong the feelings involved were) until later on in her and Rudy's relationship. Elaine not knowing about their fwb arrangement is alluded to in multiple Deuxmoi blinds over the years. Just feels too consistent to not have some truth to it. I can see how finding this out could blindside Elaine, make Rudy feel ashamed and uncomfortable, and contribute to growing jealousy and tension throughout years that finally hit a breaking point. I'm not saying jealousy is acceptable, especially because portraying a believable Jiara romance was Rudy and Madison's JOB. Obviously the healthiest decision is either break up or make peace with it. But I think this could at least explain why Jiara upset Elaine so much. She felt lied to. Also if Rudy actually cheated on Teo, that would increase Elaine's insecurity even more (once a cheater always a cheater). AND put pressure on Rudy to prove that he won't cheat on Elaine, making him all compliant and weird n shit towards Madison. The whole thing is just messy.

b. Rudy did not want to do Jiara in the first place. He didn't even sign up for it when he joined the show. Their "chemistry" in s1 was a literal representation of Rudy and Madison's chemistry in real life, likely due to their fwb arrangement. It wasn't JJ and Kiara liking each other. It wasn't planned. (I hate how Kiara asking John B "Did you tell JJ" is literally always used as proof against this, but I always saw that as Kiara not wanting to admit she actually did like John B and wanted to keep shit on the down low until they figured it out. That's totally how it's written. But the obx writers suck and don't elaborate on that ever again, so it gets misinterpreted). Regardless, fans saw their obvious chemistry and SCREAMED for JJ and Kiara to get together. They also screamed for Rudy and Madison to get together, which was probably fun until it was awkward. But Rudy literally NEVER actually liked it as a plotline. In interviews for S1 and S2, he talks about how JJ is not ready for a relationship, maaaaybe endgame could be them hinting at getting together but he just didn't think it made sense with the storyline. And Cleo was getting written in as JJ's actual love interest. And Kiara had already kissed John B AND Pope. It was not the writer's original plan, and Rudy has said that he thinks the show should not be swayed by fan desires. Except the writers are spineless and lack creativity, so instead they chose to listen to the fans and pivot their entire storyline to make Jiara happen. Which Rudy was contractually obligated to then do. Unwillingly. For 4 seasons.

c. Outside of Jiara, Rudy hated the writing on obx. And who can blame him? Everyone hated the writing on obx. The plotline has been getting more and more unrealistic and ridiculous since S1. If there was no bts drama and JJ lived and the show was renewed for 3 more seasons, season 4 would STILL be hot smelly garbage. Rudy has been getting increasingly more and more vocal in interviews about how he hates bad writing, he respects good writing, he wants to participate in art that moves people, means something, makes a difference. He basically calls out the obx writers in that Larry Moss interview for being trash. It is absolutely implied. The fan service of Jiara and the deterioration of the plot and the absolute destruction of his character JJ who he loved dearly and put so much effort into? God, that would piss me off too. Total opposition to his values. We all heard Rudy talk about JJ's storyline in S1 interviews as a nod to trauma survivors and how respectfully he tried to portray that. Only to have the writers not give 2 shits about any of that. I can totally see why he stopped giving a shit too. By s3 interviews, he literally repeats "my job is to do what the writers tell me" over and over. Dude was done long before asking to leave s4.

4. The final tipping point? The hate that Elaine gets. I'm not defending the girl. I think the whole conflict/tension/jealousy thing is wild. Hard to know what's actually true, but I think it's fair to say she doesn't make the healthiest choices (her launching her bikini line while Rudy is getting dragged by the media and fans?....wow.) However, the absolute visceral HATE Elaine has been getting for literal years, unwavering, unfiltered, unending? No one deserves that. Especially not for the petty shit she supposedly did (the girl posted some ignorant shit as a 17 year old on facebook in 2013. Like come on, she's not Kelly Osbourne saying Latinos only clean toilets on literal live TV). You can't make me believe that hate like that for 4 years straight on every possible social media platform wouldn't impact your mental health. You can't tell me it wouldn't make Rudy hate the fans, and hate the show, and hate social media. He would feel guilty, like it was his fault. He would want to protect her. They would both be so powerless to stop it from happening. Like, it literally killed her photography career before it could begin because her social media platforms were just bombarded with hate. And not just hate, but embarrassing, cancel culture accusations. If that was my partner getting treated like that because of my job? I think I'd leave too.

All of this combined = creates a total shitshow that Rudy probably couldn't wait to get away from. He's talented. He's passionate about acting. He likely wants to do other projects while he's still young and fit and eager. OBX contracts stopped the actors from doing any other work that conflicted with obx scheduling (filming and press). That reeeeally limits their other opportunities.

So I really can't blame the guy for leaving. I just think the way he did it was shitty. If he had just told them he wanted to leave before S4 was written and already filming, I think things could have been a lot more amicable. But I guess money complicates everything. Dude probably made a good mil a year with obx, that's hard to leave.

Soooo yea. Just my theories and thoughts. I could be totally off, a lot of it is hypothetical. But I haven't seen a lot of these theories fleshed out as people talk about everything, so thought I would add my 2 cents.

[iwantmochisoup]

mochi soup's sappy happy crying session

i'm so sorry, please bear with me, but i really need to be super sappy rq. (it's gonna be a long one, so imma add the read more here)

i just recently hit 10k likes and lost my shit over it qwq;; i was overthinking a lot, i wanted to run away, and it kinda hit me because honestly, i don't think i deserve all this ;; like i'm just being silly on here and having fun ;;

but that aside, i have been thinking how to properly say thank you, since words are really hard for me (wow big shocker ikr lmao) but i realized it's thanks giving, despite me not being from america i saw all the love today and i thought maybe i can try, this time, to put it to words. (i'm sorry if i don't make sense at all, and honestly don't mind me honestly, i've always been super scared of talking on here but i need to ramble)

so, idk how to start this, i honestly quit art for good like 4 years ago, won't comment on it but this year i tried to pick it back up. i am so scared of people, especially online but i thought why not, so i made a lil acc on here, i wanna say i'm so lucky to have met you all and seeing people like my art, seriously it's what keeps me going. (that sounds so sappy but for what feels like the first time in my life i am genuinely being myself and i am so happy idk what to do) this is way too long of an intro...

i'm gonna start off my twin of course, it feels fitting hehe ;; so, @saltedbiscuiit you know how shit i am at words, and you know how thankful i am for you, and we talked so much about it already so i'll try to keep this short ;; i am genuinely so happy to have met you, kinda feels like it changed my life back then, it honestly hasn't been that long really, since the art trade back in july, i honestly feel like i found my other half (that's so sappy pls don't cry but i'm being honest) thank you so much for everything, you do so much for me, even if you don't know it and i am honestly so so grateful and happy. thank you so much <3 hehe, salty soup salted mochi

the next one is @cryptid-juzou we just recently met, but i fell in love with your writing, almost instantly!! you're such a great friend, and it's sm fun talking and playing games with you!! and i'm so happy and grateful to have met you!! Really, thank you so much for all you did for me and for accepting the collab! To be working with you on our thing (i won't go into detail, yk big surprise and all) honestly, i'm so so happy and i can't wait to finish it!!

next!! @k-aez !! you've been haunting me in dreams, scolding me and i still think about that raw chicken art you did. okay jokes aside, i'm so happy to have met you and i feel the need to thank you like forever for creating the server and everything you've done. you've been supporting me and pushing me to get out of my ass and kept encouraging me sm. i can't put it into words, but i will be forever grateful for everything!

big big thanks to @ohhcinnybuns, @anticidic and @ediblepandas ya'll have been feeding my brain so many good ideas and enabled some brainrot i will thank you forever for. cinny, you know how much i love your fics and your massive brain in general, i'm so happy i was brave enough back then, and did some art of your ideas, idk if i would even tried to join the server if i didn't see your reblog. rosie, you know how much i love your fics, i'm not about to fangirl in public but i'm truly thankful, you've inspired me so so much, i love with your writing, your kitsunezai au and your scream in phasmo still is the best scream ever! pandas, hehe yk i need to thank you here too! your yapping about dresses and in general talking to you is so much fun! i love your brain sm! thank you so so much for enabling me so much, and please send me more dresses, i love them all!

and, ofc i have to give big thanks the chaos trio too @thatghostinyourbog @spccts & @msshinylemon !! yes, i'm calling you that, that name is fitting, shovel fight if you disagree, losers >:3 i have to thank you three a lot, ya'll are so fun to hang around and play games with, i seriously love what you all do, be it drawing, writing or just the way ya'll yap nonstop! it's sm fun hanging out and i love how we bounce off each other so well and ya'll inspire me so much!! also tysm @nolongerforthetainted for babysitting them!! i really love your writing sm and it's always sm fun yapping with you, and also pls make more coleslaw beds!! i need them! but honestly, thank you so much, i am so happy to have met ya'll and i always look forward to talking and hang out with ya'll!!

WAAAAA THAT IS SO LONG OMG BUT!!! I also need to thank each one of you, all my moots and everyone that just takes their time to look at my art, leave a like, reblog, comment what ever really, i appreciate each and every one of you so so much! thank you all so much, from the bottom of my heart, i can't explain how much it means to me! i also want to give a lil thanks to @noakiie @nevertheblood @altruistic-meme @artsyaudience @konbupie @jellyphink & @lethargyinafishbowl i wanted to tag more but i'm so sorry but i'm too scared, really ;;;

idk how to end this, honestly, i feel like i wrote too much and rambled way too much. i guess i'm just gonna-- *runs*

WITH MUCH LOVE AND A BIG HOP STEP JUMP -mochi soup

[darlingshane]

plateau

Jack Harper x F!Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Jack has reached a point where it feels like it's going nowhere. You're not sure what to do anymore to break through that wall he's put up. On a bad day, you decide just to give up altogether. If he's not willing to make an effort so aren't you.

CW: SPOILERS, heavy angst, drama, mention of child neglect, mention of harassment, mention of past relationships, snap judgments, smoking, heartbreak, but HOPEFUL ENDING, I swear.

LONG A/N: Yeah, you've read it right. I wrote a fic for Jack before the show comes out. I think I have enough insight from the book and the details I've found about the show to mix and match a story for him.

I kept some things from the book that are going to change in the show like Jack's niece. She's younger and has a different name in the book that I liked better, so I went with that version instead. Everyone is a little shitty on this story, including reader and Jack, which is on par with the book. And this is written in a similar way the book is. The first half is from reader's pov, and the other half from Jack's pov.

Word Count: 4,1k

— Links: AO3 // Masterlist

It's dark, windy, downright pouring like hell when you head out the door after clocking out of the inn you work at.

Opening your umbrella, you walk against the wind towards the corner that leads to the parking lot. A car passes by fast on your side, driving carelessly over a big puddle that splashes your legs. You turn back and flip him off, but the car is too far gone to see you.

When you bend the corner, you glance around to find his car. It's hidden behind an SUV, and you don't see it until two beams of headlights flash at you twice.

You rush in that direction, trying to avoid getting soaked, but it's impossible. By the time you reach the passenger door, the wind has made sure to push as much water as it could in your direction,

Drenched head to toe, you close the umbrella and climb into the car, yanking the door close as hard as you can.

“Fuck.” You toss the umbrella to the backseat.

“Good evening to you too, sweetheart,” he scoffs behind the wheel.

“Sorry. Just one of these days, you know?”

“Anything I can do?” Jack extends a hand to caress your cold neck. His palm is warm against your skin, collecting the raindrops that fell on you.

“Just take me home. I can't do this right now.”

“Are you sure?”

Without answering, you open Jack's glove box and find that pack of smokes he keeps at the back. He's tried to quit many times but keeps this one here from when the urge arises. You're not a smoker per se, but today you could really use one to calm yourself.

You stick one cigarette between your lips and reach out to the inside pocket of the jacket he's wearing to find a silver zippo lighter.

“Help yourself.”

Lighting it up, you take a long drag and hang your head back against the headrest, letting the smoke intoxicate your lungs before expelling it through your lips.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No. Not really.” You offer him a puff, and he hesitates for a second before picking the cigarette between your fingers.

“Why not?”

“Cause I don't wanna burden you. Besides, this works better if we don't talk, right? That's what you said.”

“I didn't mean it like that.” He passes the cigarette back to you.

“It's fine, Jack. Just drive.”

He tilts his head to the side, staring ahead at the mass of water pelting on the windshield with rage. The sky is violently struck by a massive lightning bolt, outlining in a blue electric shade the mountains that paint the landscape of Dahlonega.

You're sure he wants to protest or even explain what he meant, but he never does. Everything just hangs in the air between you two as usual. It's what you've come to know about Jack Harper. This is transactional for both, an escape from your miserable lives. But right now, this feels just as pathetic. You hate hiding like this, like you're a hooker he has to take to some clandestine dark nook around town to do unspeakable things. He's been divorced for two years and is still afraid of showing you around town, so people don't come to any assumptions. And you hate that. There was a time when you'd find yourself thinking this could become real some day. But it never comes. Your relationship has reached a plateau and if he's not willing to move up higher, then you'd have to move on without him… Eventually. There are things in your life that are keeping you from making that leap. Right now, being in this fixed place feels somewhat safe, even if it isn't where you want to be. Spending time with him, however that looks or means, is better than nothing.

Despite all that, you have bigger problems in your life than Jack being a dormant lover. One of them being your ex constantly harassing you to no end. Mostly via phone. But today he reached a new level of psycho when he showed up in the middle of your shift to ask you for money. He put you in a very difficult situation where you had to give him what you had in your wallet in exchange for him not making a scene. He also threatened you with plastering the building you work at with compromising photos he took of you when you were together. It was probably a mistake to bend up so easily to his extortion antics. You know that this would serve as precedent for him to do the same bit again. And you can't afford that.

Jack has made it clear before that he's not looking for that kind of relationship where you can freely confide in the other. He knows your ex is an asshole, but he has no idea to what degree. And right now, you wish you could tell him, cause you're running out of ideas to keep that fucking dumbass away.

The car veers through the streets, carefully moving under the unwavering storm. The old wipers whine against the glass, exerting themselves to keep the view unobstructed. Inside the car, there's nothing but a heavy silence, broken only by the thunderous roar of the rainstorm. On a night like this, you'd usually drive to your spot in the woods behind the train station or go to that motel in Gainesville if you can, it's always worth the drive. But tonight he's taking you home and doesn't press further on why you've chosen that. Sometimes you wish you could just yell at him, tell him you're drowning, and you're sick of him treating you like garbage, but you won't. Instead, a knot forms in your throat, bottling up all those words that are making your body hurt inside and out. You don't expect him to magically cure any of your imaginary ailments. You just want him to be willing to listen sometimes. That's all you need.

“You could come in, you know? Maybe stay the night?” you suggest when the car pulls up in front of your place, situated in the middle of a row of townhouses that look identical.

“Can't. I gotta check Zoe hasn't burned down the house.”

“How would she do that?”

“Pfft, you name it. Sometimes she leaves the stove on, or falls asleep with a cigarette lit on the couch. Came home once to find one of those hair curling sticks plugged, burning over a towel.”

“Hm, sounds like a handful.”

“I'd bring you with me, but—“

“She hates my guts. I know.”

It's not news to you that Zoe Harper despises you. You went to school with her at St. Hilary's Academy, and the two of you never got along. She was part of the mean clique along with Jack's ex-wife, Anna. Everyone was a target to them, including you. Zoe in particular still has a big hate boner against you, cause she never grew up out of that phase. Even in her thirties with a toddler, she's incapable of letting go of the fact that one of her ex-boyfriends in high school dated you after breaking up with her. She blamed it on you, of course, though you never met him after the fact. Just like your ex, she harassed you until the end of the school year, spreading unbelievable rumors about you. Luckily, everyone knew that was their shtick, and no one ever believed the insane lies that came out of her mouth.

“Is that why you're sleeping with me? To piss your sister off?” You can't help but wonder.

“No, she doesn't know about us. It doesn't take much to piss her off, so I'd be pretty dumb to go through all this trouble when I could just hide her glue gun.”

“Right. Do you think there'd be a time when you could stay? Or go on a date with me during the day?”

“Why are you asking me this now?” He deadpans.

“I don't know, Jack. I'm just wondering. I like you. You seem to like me. These are normal questions people have when they like someone, but I'm guessing from your expression that I have it all wrong.”

Silence. Again.

The man is a wall you can tear down, and you’re not sure why you still try or why you even care the slightless about him when he’s clearly signaling this is nothing but sex to him.

Your phone interrupts that unnerving stillness when it starts blasting a string of messages. Your ex. Probably drunk-texting the usual repertoire about how much of a bitch you are, as if he didn���t have enough with what he did earlier.

You glance down at the phone in your palm, reading the last troubling text he sent, and dare to ask, “say, hypothetically, if someone was harassing you, do you make an appointment with the police, or should someone just show up and report it at the station? How much evidence do you need?”

“What? Is someone harassing you?” He finally responds.

“No, it was just a hypothetical. Indulge me, just for fun.”

“Okay, if someone was being harassed for sure they should go report it. Guess depends on a few factors. You’d need to present proof of a relationship to the respondent, evidence whether it is physical, threats, stalking, harassment… You’d need an explanation of why you believe you’re in immediate danger to issue a temporary restraining order. Wouldn’t hurt to consult a lawyer, either.”

“That’s what I thought. Thanks.” You say curtly, grabbing your bag and tucking your phone inside.

“Is this what’s worrying you today?”

“No,” you shake your head as you reach for the door handle.

“Should I pick you up tomorrow?”

“No. I don’t think you should. Unless you change your mind about staying one night, you shouldn’t come around anymore, Jack. Take care,” you find yourself saying, rushing to leave the car at once. The way you shut the door serves as a period to a chapter that's run on for too long.

Now that you've said it, It’s definite. If he’s going to give you nothing but silence, then you’re not going to waste your time anymore.

Jack hangs his head down after watching you enter your house. There's nothing that he'd love more than to chase you and stay with you, but there's something inside that's keeping him from it. The fear of letting you down and screwing another relationship paralyzes him. That's why he's stunned every time you make an attempt to move forward with this. He has no doubt you'd be better off without him, so he'd rather let you down now than further down the line.

As he drives home, he can't get out of his obtuse mind the way your face changed when you looked at your phone and the hypothetical question that you presented him. You wouldn't be asking if it wasn't real, he believes. Maybe it's for you or for a friend, but he doesn't plan on letting that fall through the cracks like everything else in his life. If someone is harassing you, he can't turn a blind eye and let you get hurt or worse. So, he pins that thought to check on later. Though you've asked him to stay away, he can't disappear without knowing that you're okay.

By the time he parks on the driveway of his childhood home, it's stopped raining. He captures the TV glow through the window before heading inside.

His sister has passed out on the couch as usual watching one of those reality channels. Luckily, no cigarette in hand but a handful of empty beer cans clutter the coffee table between her array of supplies she uses for crafting. When he finds the remote, he switches the TV off and heads upstairs.

There's another light coming from the cracked door of Olivia's room when he climbs the staircase to the second floor. He pushes the door open to find his almost three-year-old niece having a party with her stuffies in the rug.

“Uncle Jack!” The little girl beams when he sees his face.

“What are you still doing up, lil bug?” he smiles, crouching down to hug her.

“I was hungry.”

“You didn't have dinner?”

She shakes her head, “mommy fell asleep.”

It's hard not to think badly of her sister when she does shit like this. He abstains from being judgmental, but tonight, he can't help it. All she has to do is take care of Olivia. She has no job besides selling cheap jewelry and clothes that almost nobody wants. What else is keeping her from meeting her daughter's basic needs? Really. It doesn't make sense to him. Her immaturity never left her, even after having a baby she still acts like a fifteen-year old. Some people don't deserve to be parents, and Zoe is one of them.

If it wasn't for Olivia, he wouldn't put up with Zoe's crap like he does.

He takes her downstairs and whips out something quick for her to eat. In a plate, he puts some chopped baby carrots, crackers, and cheese so she can snack while he fries some fish sticks and mixes some instant mashed potatoes. To be honest, he's not sure how much a toddler should eat at night, but he's going to let her have what she wants cause he's not sure when was the last time she had a full meal.

Olivia seems happy with his choices. She'd be a picky eater if she wasn't so hungry. She quickly devours everything he puts on her plate.

After dinner, Zoe is still deeply asleep in the same place while he helps Olivia to brush her teeth with her tiny brush he bought her the other day. It has a unicorn on the handle, which she adores.

When brushing time is done, he reads her a book and watches her fall asleep in record time.

Spending time with Olivia is lovely. It's such a beautiful picture, his heart aches for that part of him he lost. He was more than ready to be a dad, always hands on when he needed to during those short months she was on this earth.

With the weight of the world quickly settling on top of his shoulders, he retreats back to his room to see if he can put himself together the same way. He takes a shower and shaves the stubble on his face before slipping into bed. He closes his eyes, but after an hour, sleep seems to elude him. Something makes his stomach turn, and not because he's hungry. It's something else entirely. It's a gut feeling that tells him something is going on with you, and you’re not willing to tell him because he's kept you at an arm's length. God, he's such an asshole, he thinks as he flips on the bed to check the time on his phone.

It's late. But not terribly late to correct a mistake.

Jack quickly puts on some clothes without thinking, grabs his keys and phone to pay you a visit.

He makes sure Olivia's still asleep before heading out the door. Zoe is awake now on the couch, watching TV. She barely glances at him or acknowledges his presence when he lies to her, telling her that he was called to the station, that he’d probably be out all night.

The streets are empty and still soaked in a thick layer of water from the storm. He allows himself to drive a little faster now that he can.

Following another light, he knows you’re still up by the yellow glow filtering behind the curtains of one of the windows. He pulls up in the empty driveway of your house, and uses his phone to text you, typing he’s outside.

Jack waits for a minute before seeing the curtains move to show your face. He waves timidly and beckons you to meet him at the door.

“What are you doing here, Jack?”

“I thought about what you said and… Can we talk inside?”

“Are you sure? What would the neighbors say if they saw you here?” You mock him with annoyance in your tone. “Cause if Mrs. Greer sees you spending more than two minutes here, she’ll get the wrong idea. And you know how fast news travels around here.”

“Please? I just need a minute.”

Exhaling, you step backwards and open the door wider to let him in.

The TV is on when he enters the living room, and he's taken aback upon seeing the face of his ex-wife on the screen in the news segment she anchors at WSK.

“You don't have to say it. I'm pathetic.” You scoff, turning it off.

“You're not pathetic,” he's quick to reply.

“You know, I get it. She's smart and pretty, and everything I'd never be. I wouldn't blame you if you were still hung up on her. It'd explain a lot.”

It breaks his heart seeing you like this. Anna is part of his past that he’s definitely not looking to revisit. He’s not sure what you’re yet, but he’d never want you to think that you're anything less than amazing. That’s his fault for drawing this out.

“It's not that, sweetheart. I just think you deserve better than this, than me… I'm screwed up. I don't have anything to offer you right now. I know it, she knows it, too.” He vaguely gestures at the now-black flat screen, and pauses. “You think you want me, but you don't. It'll pass.”

“That's such s lame cop out. Why does every guy in my life think they know what I want or need better than me, huh? It's my choice to ruin my life if I want to. You don't get to decide. If you don't wanna be with me, that's fine, but don't say it's because I don't know what I want. Do you know what you want, Jack?”

His chin nods gently, staring down for a beat.

“Then say it.” You press him, folding your arms against your stomach. “You came back to talk, so talk.”

“It wouldn't work out between us.”

“That's not what I asked.”

Jack clears his throat. “It's not that simple.”

“Good things never are.” You keep hitting the ball into his side of the court.

“Fine! You win, okay?” His voice raises up, as all those unsaid secrets find a way out of his chest. “I can't stop thinking about you. Best thing in my life right now is when I get to pick you up and spend that little time together, and it's never enough. And I don't know how to do this anymore, how to be with someone. I don't wanna hurt you. And I can’t let my guard down again… what happened the last time… it can’t happen again…”

You see him choking up, overcome with emotion, as he trails off.

“Jack.” You bring your hands up to cup his jaw in your palms.

You open your mouth to say something else, but now it's you that gets to be speechless, so you just pull his face close, so his forehead falls on top of yours. He closes his eyes, and you close yours, letting the circling of your thumbs sooth the freshly-shaved skin of his cheeks. There’s really nothing you can say to ease the pain that he still harbors.

“It's okay,” you say after a long minute. “We don't have to rush into anything. We'll figure it out as we go. I just need you to talk to me, Jack. Just once in a while. You think we could do that? Be honest with each other?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he exhales, letting a small part of that heaviness he carries evaporate in the open space.

When he pulls his head back, you open your eyes as he places a kiss on your forehead, before locking his arms around you. His nose captures the scent of your hair while you tuck your arms around his torso.

Now that the air seems slightly clearer between you, he relaxes in your embrace for longer than he ever has. It feels like you’re holding him up, instead the other way around.

Something creeps back into his stomach—that uneasy feeling that wouldn’t let him sleep and that brought him to your door. He clears his throat to swallow the bittersweet taste left in his mouth of that sudden confession to change the subject and focus on you instead.

He hesitates to ask, but he has to.

“Hey. Do you think we could start now, being honest, I mean?”

“Sure.” You tilt your head back to capture his gaze.

“What you asked me about earlier in the car when I brought you home about harassing, I know you didn’t just ask for the sake of asking. Is there something going on, sweetheart?”

“Hm, nothing you need to worry about.” Your tone says the opposite as you suddenly pull away from his arms to busy your hands spreading the throw pillows on your couch evenly apart.

“Thought this is what you wanted. To talk.”

“This is not your problem, Jack.”

“That’s where you draw the line? Just cause it’s not my problem doesn’t mean I can’t help. I can see you’re scared, so—please, make it my problem.”

He watches you sigh with heaviness as you put the pillow in your hands down before grabbing your phone from the table.

After unlocking it and finding the text chain between you and your ex, you hand the phone to Jack so he can see for himself.

“Holy shit.”

He scrolls, dumbfounded, through a one-sided alarming thread of messages that are made of threats, degrading insults, intimidation, blackmail… You hardly ever reply unless he threatens you to do so.

“Have you tried blocking him?”

“Of course, I've tried. He shows up here if I do so. He likes to know that I read all the shit he sends. He gets off on it. He showed up today at work and I had to give him money so he'd go.”

This is more serious than he initially thought. He has to pull his eyes away from the screen after skimming roughly through over 50 messages that seem to keep going.

“You shouldn't have put this off. You could've easily got a restraining order with half of these.”

“I mean, he's never hurt me. At least there's that. He's like one of those dogs. He's all bark.”

“Yet.” Jack remarks. “He hasn't hurt you yet. What's this thing about a picture?”

“What do you think? I was stupid. I let him take pictures of me, you know… intimate pictures. Now he's saying he's going to put them all over town, so everyone can see what a slut I am.”

“You're not stupid, sweetheart. C'mere. Let's sit.” His hand points at the couch where you sit.

He lowers his backside on top of the coffee table in front of you.

“Keep these.” He puts your phone between your palms. “Tomorrow, we'll go to the station and you'll show them. I'll check with the inn, see if I can have access to the security feed.”

“Okay.”

“This is what you wanna do, right?”

You waver. “I suppose so. I just wish he'd leave me alone.”

“You gave him money. He's not going to leave you alone anytime soon now that he knows he can twist your arm like that.”

“I'm sorry I made it your problem.”

“Don't apologize. I asked you to.”

“So, what now?”

He tiredly shrugs his shoulders. “Guess we just wait and see what happens tomorrow.”

“Will you go in with me?”

“Yeah, don't worry. You're not doing this alone.” He gently cradles your hands in his palms, drawing soothing circles on your skin with his thumbs.

This is progress. It's scary, but it's a step in the right direction. He can't stay stuck red living the same day as in Groundhog Day. That's not living. This is it, holding you in his hands seems so simple yet so incredible.

Jack shifts in his seat on the table to sit next to you on the couch. His arms hold you closely as you search in his mouth something to put you at ease. He can't tell by the way your lip trembles that you're just as terrified. Perhaps not of this, you and him, but from that other situation you find yourself in. He provides a much necessary relief in the way his tongue gently massages yours. One of his hands is drawn under the hem of your top to find the warmth of your skin. It makes your hair stick out when the feather-light gliding of his fingers moves across the length of your backbone.

— credits: beautiful divider by @bernardsbendystraws

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

when I want to write something self indulgent to give me all the angsty and cuddly hurt/comfort feels but I can't because I end up feeling guilty because I'm seeking after feels that I feel in an inappropriate place because my mom told me one time when I was 15 that I shouldn't search that out or it's probably sexual sin but it confuses me because ALL the feels happen that way for me even if it's entirely platonic and nonsexual and so I don't know if it's okay to want to write to that because apparently all pleasure of any sort, even over platonic stories, is sexual or comes with a possibly probably sexual feeling and I also am having a hard time figuring out what's genuine conviction from God and what's just my anxiety/OCD/perfectionism/fear of failure

[bredforloyalty]

you know what? i'm posting the fic this week the earlier the better because fuck it + i must be cleansed + come over and shoot me in the head if i don't do it

[jabeur]

all the wta singles matches in a slam being during the day is evil many people have jobs and why would i spend my evening watching a domestic abuser instead of paolini rybakina

[melancholic-pigeon]

Okay this is the *actual* last comment, for real, but I just found out Spider is now smearing me as a convert and accusing me of being involved with drama I was not involved with because he mistakenly attributed my apologies for his public temper tantrum as being about something unrelated.

THIS IS A FALSE ACCUSATION and I do not appreciate having yet another bit of fake malicious intent falsely ascribed to my actions and* attributing a completely unrelated attack to me.

Also, it's very sad and disappointing whenever a Jew gets mad at a convert because something else is going on in the Jew's life and the convert happens to be in the splash zone and the Jew falls over backwards to smear the convert and invalidate her faith.

Just....the childish aggression is making me so, so sad and disappointed, from someone I used to think very highly of, who is now lying about me and publicly smearing me with false accusations based on a conflict he started because he misinterpreted something I said and I went out of my way to give him the benefit of the doubt when trying to clear up the mistake HE MADE that led him to decide bullying and attacking me for three fucking days was appropriate and okay and that I'm the bad guy for saying it's wildly unprofessional to behave like this in public to a former customer face.

Sorry, but facts, reality, linear time and the truth of what I actually said and did are on my side here, and I will not stand for being smeared and attacked and shat all over because I had the gall to try to kindly resolve his uncalled for, unjustified temper tantrum.

I am also not sorry that I left a side note in the tags that it was also unacceptable for HIM to drag his daughter into a stupid internet slapfight based on his own reading comprehension failure. Because it was and is unacceptable, and she needs to hear that message from someone.

End of story. Keep digging that hole as long as you like, Spider. It's not helping your case and is continuing to make you look progressively worse and more unreasonable, and the only person you have to blame is yourself.

*revised for clarity

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!