#that's not even getting into the fact she has what is basically the entire weight of the world on her shoulders

[reanimatedgh0ul]

this is LITERALLY their dynamic in a nutshell

[anneapocalypse]

On Wuk Lamat, and Female Characters in FFXIV

The Thing with Wuk Lamat is you can tell me you think she had too much screentime; you can give me numbers on how many lines she had or how many scenes she's in relative to other characters or other expacs; you can prove to me "objectively" that she gets more focus than other main NPCs; you're simply not going to convince me that this is something I should be unhappy about. And not just because it's silly to think you can use numbers to prove a story is good or bad and make someone else go, "Wow, you're right, let me just throw away all the joy I experienced with this story and revise my opinion because you've scientifically proven to me that I'm wrong."

Because while I love Final Fantasy XIV and I have greatly enjoyed its story in so many ways, fundamentally one of my biggest beefs with this game has been how much female characters have been denied complex character arcs and growth and agency and interiority.

Minfilia gets treated as a sacrificial vessel who lives for everyone but herself and doesn't even get to have feelings about her own death because that entire arc is focused on a male character's angst about it instead. The game tells us in the Heavensward patches that Krile sees Minfilia as her best friend and then just forgets about that later and never follows up on what that loss must have meant to her. Ysayle is basically right about most of what she's fighting for but harboring a bit of self-delusion is apparently such a terrible sin that she has to pay for it with her life, while her male foil is deemed so worthy of salvation that there's a whole plot point about how important it is that we risk our lives and others' lives to save him. Y'shtola is a major character who's been around since the beginning, and the game keeps dropping maddeningly interesting things about her (apprenticed to a cranky old witch in a cave! saved her own life and the lives of her friends with an illegal and dangerous spell and it worked! reserved and undemonstrative yet regularly through her actions reveals herself to be deeply caring! disabled!) and then shows complete disinterest in following up on any of those things with the kind of depth and care shown to male characters with complex arcs like Urianger.

In general there is also a repeated thread of female characters being portrayed as weak or overly emotional: Minfilia is weak because she doesn't fight and needs to be eaten by a god in order to gain "a strength long sought." Krile is portrayed as not being able to pull her weight with the Scions (despite the fact that she actively keeps five of them from dying in Shadowbringers) and the only thing they could think of for her to do in Endwalker was be yet another vessel for Hydaelyn (hmm, that sounds familiar) and it's not until Dawntrail that she gets much actual character development in the main story and even that has to come alongside "Look, she can fight now so that means she's useful." (And I love Picto!Krile, I'm just saying, there's a pattern.) Alisaie, despite having very good reasons for needing to find her own path apart from her brother, is portrayed as having to prove herself when she returns, that she's "not the girl she once was," and "will not be a burden" (while Alphinaud is repeatedly given the benefit of the doubt and reassurance and affirmation from other characters even after he takes on responsibilities he isn't ready for and fucks up big time).

And if you follow me you know I adore Urianger, and I love Alphinaud and Thancred and Estinien too, so please don't misunderstand what I'm saying here! I'm not knocking those characters, or saying we shouldn't also love them. I just use them as a comparison to demonstrate how the female characters have been neglected.

Lyse has some of the stronger character development among the female Scions, and while she's still kind of portrayed as being too emotional and hotheaded in early Stormblood, I think it's actually explored in more depth in a way that I like; Lyse has good reasons for wanting to fight for her nation's freedom, but having been away from Ala Mhigo for several years now, she needs to understand the stakes for the people who've been there fighting for years, what they've lost and still have to lose. She grows as a person and rises to the challenge of leadership, and I'm even okay with the fact that she leaves the Scions afterward because it feels right for her to stay in Ala Mhigo, and at least she doesn't die.

And by all accounts she was, like Wuk Lamat, widely hated when her expansion came out.

Unironically I think the other female Scion with the strongest character arc is Tataru. She tries to take up a combat job, finds that it's not for her, and decides to focus on where her strengths are instead. In doing so, she both holds the Scions together as an organization in the absence of a leader by capably managing their finances, and also comes into her own as a businesswoman and makes international connections that benefit both the Scions and her personally. In contrast to Minfilia, she's not portrayed as weak because she doesn't fight, and is actually allowed to be an important character who's good for more than being sacrificed. Tataru is still distinctly in a supporting role for the player character, however, and her character arc happens as a side story that takes up a relatively small amount of screentime over several expansions, which I think is probably why she doesn't evoke such a negative reaction.

But there is a pattern of the game's writing showing disinterest in the interior lives of female characters generally, and in making their growth the focus of a story.

So yeah, I'm going to be happy about Wuk Lamat! I'm going to enjoy and celebrate every moment of her character arc, of her personal growth, of watching her put the lessons she's learned into action. I'm going to love and treasure every moment when she gets to be silly, embarrassing, emotional, scared, grieving, confused, upset, seasick, impulsive, and still deemed worthy of growing into a hero and a leader. I will love her with all of my soul and you simply will not convince me that it wasn't worth the screentime after such a profound imbalance for basically the entirety of the game. We've never had a major female character get such a strong arc with this much love and attention put into it and that means more to me than I can truly say. The backlash to it is disheartening, as this kind of thing always is, but I'm not going to let it ruin the wonderful experience I had playing it and how much joy it continues to bring me.

And for those of you who don't want any of that for a female character, thank goodness you have Heavensward and Shadowbringers and Endwalker and no one can take those away from you.

(And if you follow me you know that I love Shadowbringers and Endwalker and have very fond memories of Heavensward despite some issues with it, so not only can I not take that from you, I am not trying to!)

Some of us have been real hungry for a character like this with an arc like this, so, I think, y'know, maybe we can have that. As a treat.

[grlsinterrupted]

i hope your requests are open again but if not im so sorry!! but i was wondering if u could do a dallas winston x fem!reader where reader is having problems at home (her parents being shitty yk?) and she is just having a really bad day and shes on the verge of a break down but then dallas calls and says he needs bail but she cant bring herself to be angry or else she’ll finally break so she just agrees and goes to get him but he senses somethings wrong and tries to get her to talk to him and basically just a really really really soft dallas

sorry if thats too much😭❤️

but tysm i luv ur work🫶🏼

love is a gentle thing, your’s is thicker than a velvet ring ࿔*:･ﾟ

you’ve reached your breaking point | dallas winston x fem ! reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

-

it’s insane how much a piece of paper dictates what you can do, what you can’t do, who you can talk to— your entire life, really. though it holds no monetary value, your report card has always seemed to define your self worth, and better yet, served as a constant reminder that you’ll never truly satisfy your parents. no matter how many hours you spent slaving away on your assignments, fighting back the urge to fall asleep right on your desk, your dedication will never be enough.

a thick silence fills the room, the only sound coming from the faint chirping of crickets and the rhythm of your rugged breathing. you’re seated on the corner of your bed, your hands shaking as you grapple onto the edges of your report card. the paper is crinkled, stained with tears and remnants of your mascara smeared across the letter ‘b+.’ the memory of your mother lecturing you about your grades replays in your head like a song you want to unhear. one single letter was enough to spiral you into a loop of madness. suddenly, the silence is broken by a ringing phone. you flinch, reaching over your nightstand to answer it.

you clear your throat, sniffling. “hello?”

a familiar voice huffs out a chuckle behind the phone. it didn’t take you long to realize that this accented tone belonged to none other than your boyfriend, dallas. “hey, doll. y’know how the fuzz are, they’ve been on my ass all week.”

“dal? are you seriously calling me from jail?” your voice is shaky as you bite back your tears, the report card’s weight heavy on your lap. despite how desperately you needed to cry, right now wasn’t the time. you’ve gathered all the composure remaining in you to deal with dallas’ reckless behavior.

“listen, i’m g’na need a couple bucks for bail. you’d do that for me, wouldn’t ya?”

all you can do is sigh. of course he’d called you for bail. even though you wanted to blow up at him over the phone and tell him to pay for his own bail, you couldn’t bring yourself to be angry at him. you were just as troubled as he was, if not, worse— the only difference being that you prioritized your future more than he ever would.

“sure, whatever. i’ll just- i’ll drive there right now. don’t do anything while i’m gone.”

dallas grazes his bloody knuckles against his a bruise on his cheekbone, wincing. somehow, he’d gotten into a fight with a soc while he was walking to buck’s place. granted that you’ve been silent the entire time, he could sense something was wrong with you— the way your eyes have lost that little sparkle in them, the way your head tilted downwards as the two of you walked out of the police station, and most of all, the fact that you didn’t even hug him once he was released.

despite the amount of times dallas has tried to reisist your post-jail hugs, they’re all he looks forward to while he’s stuck in his cell. your hugs blanket him with a sense of security— the kind of security he’s never had. without that subtle gesture, he felt as though a part of him was missing.

“you’ve been awfully quiet.” dallas mutters under his breath, looking down at you.

you shrug, shaking your head. “i never noticed.”

“yeah, but ya know what i notice?” he pockets his hands. “sum’s wrong with ya.”

you can feel your throat begin to close up as you reply. “nothing’s wrong, dal,” your voice begins to tremble as you tell yourself, do not cry in front of your boyfriend. “let’s just go home, now. i’m tired.”

“are ya mad at me for getting into a fight?” he raises a brow, nudging you with his shoulder. “‘cause if you are, he came onto me first.”

something in you snaps, emotions overflowing like a dam bursting. the stray tear that you’ve been fighting to hold back runs down your cheek. you’ve finally reached your limit. “i’m not mad at you for that! well- i am, but i’m just.. i’m stressed, okay?! everyone is stressing me out!”

dallas goes silent for a second, just watching you shatter in front of him. once he replies, his voice immediately softens. “y’know you can talk to me about anythin’, right?”

you gulp, wiping away the tear as you nod.

dallas runs a hand through his hair, biting the inside of his lip almost as if he’s hesitant to say something. he then begins to speak up.

“you forgot somethin’.”

he pulls you into a warm embrace, brushing his fingers through the strands of your hair as you cry into his arms. this time, the hug is offering you that sense of security that dallas yearns for. you’re finally safe in his arms, safe from all of the expectations set on you.

‘love is a gentle thing, your’s is thicker than a velvet ring ..’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡

-

[artbyblastweave]

ask game; Victoria Dallon, aka Glory Girl aka Antares

I've always thought that Victoria's first appearance is quite the bit of deft needle-threading.

The thing about Interlude 2 is that Vicky is our first example of one of this setting's established heroes actively fighting crime- not just swooping in to vulture up the accomplishments of an up-and-comer- and a therefore a major goal of the sequence is to ensure that the audience comes away structurally unnerved by what counts as business as usual for the heroes, set the stage for the hurricane of ass-covering to come. So we have a sequence where she lords her power over a baseline criminal who has no realistic chance to fight back or get away, where she cripples and nearly kills him in a display of excessive force, where she uses her connections to other capes to duck out on the consequences of her excess once she realizes that she's crossed certain moral and optical Rubicons. All of this is gross, all of this speaks to an alarmingly cavalier attitude amongst even the most ostensibly accountable heroes. And from a protagonistic perspective, all of this serves to soften the blow of Taylor's actions at the bank in act three, because we're predisposed to see Vicky as an arrogant, overprivileged loose cannon who'd actually have a significantly higher body count than all of the Undersiders put together if not for the cushion afforded to her by her status as a superhero. A golden child up against the already put-upon underdog.

But. She also does all of that to a Neo-Nazi, who was fresh off committing a hate crime. I mean, if this was violence against a purse-snatcher, a drug-dealer- It would be very, very easy to block this sequence in a way that would set her up as a villain and nothing else for the rest of the work. In The Boys, for example, Homelander debuts by incinerating one bank robber's hand and throwing another a thousand feet into the air to land hard on a parked car, and the dissonance between that casual brutality and his chumminess with the onlookers is the thematic backbone for... basically the entire show, because he was in such total control of the situation that the only reason to do it that way is that he fundamentally doesn't care. In Super Crooks, it's made abundantly clear that the superheroes trying to arrest the titular supervillains are significantly more destructive to the city than the villains are, because their institutional backing removes any incentive to do anything but pursue the flashiest arrests possible for the sake of ratings. But Glory Girl? She's a sixteen year old putting her money where her mouth is on the unconsidered-dilettante suburban-left-ish tumblrite rallying cry of punching a Nazi. She's living out a near-boilerplate superheroic fantasy of righteous violence against an uncomplicatedly righteous target- likely a fantasy entertained at least once by the median cape fan, if we're being honest- and then, in the aftermath, blood on her hands and on the pavement, staring down the full weight of the prospect of actually having killed a person in an unconsidered spate of rage, is very much a panicked teenager about it, scrambling for a way to walk it back.

Which, independent of the specifics of whether this particular asshole had it coming, is the problematic element of this that generalizes- that superheroism in this world is a system that puts the social license to use concrete-shattering power in the hands of a kid with the judgement and attitude of someone scheming up ways to dodge curfew. She's done this before, she's gonna keep doing this, she's gonna keep being two-faced about it with her public-facing golden-girl image. But she wasn't wrong to be angry. And the fact that this is the kind of thing she gets angry about is hard to separate from later beats where she tries to do right by people, hard to separate from her willingness to put herself on the line against Endbringers and the Slaughterhouse 9. It's a bad situation, a horrible system that's guaranteed to incentivize bad behavior, they shouldn't be assigning any of this shit to a 17-year-old. But later on, when things go south for her, the seeds are planted so that she can retain audience sympathy in a way that she likely wouldn't be able to if this story was a banal hatswap, with unfairly maligned "villains" who do no real wrong against supervillains who happen to call themselves superheroes.

[threebooksoneplot]

what draws you both to jalice/makes you so feral about them as a ship?

you should know we had an entire meeting in order to answer this ask. no this could NOT have been an email (unlike new moon) 🤭

Secretary G took notes. they are as follows (read the bolded parts for a tl;dr)

we kind of see it as though jalice got the traits that edbella weren’t allowed to have, either due to their status as protagonists or because smeyer's mormon background causes her to view these qualities as too sinful/negative for her wholesome Waiting Until Marriage main couple. (examples: alice's materialistic, "shallow," hyperfeminine qualities, her character flaws (especially her manipulativeness), and jasper's aura and history of fucked up violence closer to what you'd find in traditional vampire stories/horror/adult gothics/books not written by a mormon author)

in terms of how much screentime the non-main-love-triangle canon couples get, their relationship is kiiiinda given the next-most weight to edbella’s (examples: jasper's extreme overprotectiveness, the New Moon chapter 19 moment where alice prioritizes jasper and bella is like “yeah I get it, I would do the same.”) basically smeyer gives jalice's relationship a lot of the qualities she finds romantic/ideal, (and which are either similarly romantic to us or entertainingly toxic/a good source of drama), presumably because alice is like her 4th-favorite character after the main love triangle and she wants nice things for her

we both really love how, superficially, as presented in the books, jasper and alice seem to have this almost “courtly love” that smeyer has described as "spiritual." yet when you look closer, their relationship has so many darker undertones—the deep codependency bordering on obsessiveness (mutual, but especially the way it manifests on jasper's end—"I will kill this random teen girl who witnessed edward's jean valjean moment™ because any means are justifiable when the ends are Protecting Alice"), the dark sides of both of their powers, the idea that jasper is only a cullen and/or only a vegetarian for alice's sake, etc. hell, even the fact that they're the only Cullen couple who we know had (gasp) premarital sex 😏 (I mean we assume rosemmett did too, but alas, they don't have that hilarious "carlisle convinced jasper and alice to get married" quote from smeyer)

partially summarized: "jasper’s general desperate willingness to sell everyone to satan for one corn chip if it keeps alice safe (carlisle: I know this and I love you)"

we're forever smug that the movies gave us even more jalice screentime (especially remarkable in such a protagonist-centric universe), including jasper being in the same grade as alice/bella/edward, and the extra jalice kisses in Eclipse and BD 🥺

what we wrote down as the “who’s protecting whom" phenomenon, as coined by G in this old ask. (shannon: "jasper is the toddler you've given the PS2 controller that's not plugged in")

we also like the characters individually. jasper is for the girlies with competency kinks—a stoic caretaker who speaks little and mostly expresses himself via acts of service. we also both love the way in which he needs protection from his own uncontrolled violence (slipping up and killing humans, suffering the pain and fear he inflicts, etc.) he is, in the words of our beloved @liceparade, the "line cook trauma boyfriend"

“It’s hot when there’s a fictional violent man who wet babygirl 😌” —shannon

and alice, unlike bella, genuinely loves being spoiled and bossing people around. she's brat-coded, she's confident and secure in who she is, her god complex ("I'm close enough [to omniscient]") causes fascinating conflict, bella eats drywall from sheer horniness at her merest movement, she dresses like a slut in the Mormon YA Novels and yet somehow escapes authorial condemnation, she has a sickass gothic heroine backstory, she's "annoying," aro started a whole war over her (eat shit helen of troy 🖕), she spaces out in public and has to be led around by jasper, she's one of the most powerful vampires in the world, she's in high school getting a C+ on her precalc test 💅🏻

it's appealing that smeyer frequently puts alice in the center of the series' various conflicts (james' singer and "one that got away," the accidental cause of all the drama at the end of new moon, one of aro's secret True motives for starting the conflict in BD.) this is mostly as a consequence of smeyer using alice as a plot device and/or deus ex machina, but it is in fact interesting

is alice jasper's morality chain? we love pondering this question via fic, meta, etc (especially because...alice ain't exactly a model of ethical behavior herself)

together, the two of them exhibit lots of classic tropes. they're grumpy x sunshine, chatty x silent, opposites attract, etc. to say nothing of that height difference 🥵

we love the yin/yang symbolism of a character with a horrific past paired with a character with NO memory of her past, who is focused on the future and all about potential. not to invoke an ancient phrase but POETIC CINEMA

the next note just says “POTENTIAL in general.” I assume we meant how all of the above stuff creates potential for interesting stories, conflicts, metas, art, fic, etc

G has brought this up in the past, but we love the irony of jasper, a character whose chief desire is to be left in peace, being soul-alteringly in love with the one character who will always be a giant glaring target through no fault of her own. hilarious

[twstfanblog]

YO WHAT HAPPENS NEXT WITH THE BOYS IN THE MANHUA AU????

Bsjsjsjsjsj THIS GONNA BE SO LONG AGAIN BECAUSE THE SET UP GUYS!!!!

Ok starting out, the trio of Malleus, Azul, and Jamil HATE Yuu. They think she's the most annoying thing their parents/guardians ever put in their line of view and hate they keep putting her there.

Malleus’s father was Crowley's adopted brother (which is how he gained the status to marry Meleanor and how Crowley gained his arch duke status). Crowley's catch is that he wanted a deal that his family and royal family were to always be close. A promise that Lilia keeps after his friends die by making Yuu Malleus’s playmate.

And Malleus is...a fucking brat, raised being told he was going to be the strongest in the land and how he could have anything he wanted. It kinda inflated his little ego though Lilia tried to keep it at a decent size. But then to be presented a magicless human girl and told she was his EQUAL he kinda pitched a bitch fit and has been until Yuu just...stops talking to him.

Yuu is invited to Malleus's birthday ball every year, so Lilia is freaked out when a maid tells him that Yuu rejected the invite and didn't even plan on sending a gift in her place. Crewel tries to save face by claiming Yuu is sick. Malleus is happy because he thinks the party would be much better with no Yuu. Instead, he stands alone for basically the whole night because he never realized that Yuu was the only one who would happily come up to him, not an ounce of fear in her. He misses it...He hopes Yuu will feel better soon...

Azul comes from a marquess family that Crewel was very close to before his marriage to Crowley. So that's another playmate for Yuu! Azul completely thinks Yuu is bullying him and mocking him when she remarks how cute his chubby cheeks are. The other kids at banquets don't come near them but Azul can see out of the corner of his eye that they laugh at them. So when Yuu refuses to come with Crewel to this fancy dinner party, Azul thinks this is his chance to FINALLY establish himself with the other noble children.

Instead, Azul finds out that Yuu was the only reason the other children weren't bullying him, they liked her better than him and the fact she isn't there is basically saying she finally dropped the 'dead weight'. Azul spends the whole party actually being mocked and not teasingly cooed over, he hides behind his mom while she pleads for Crewel to bring Yuu to the next party, wondering if Yuu really was keeping him safe from the other kids.

Jamil hated Yuu purely because he kept getting in trouble. Kalim is the child of a duke family and he adored Yuu as his playmate. Because she liked Jamil! He had started to realize that Jamil was pulling away from him, coming to understand the true meaning of his role in Kalim's life. So Kalim thinks it's great that Yuu spends their playdates mostly trying to get Jamil to play with them, he misses playing with Jamil!

Jamil is PISSED, because after every play date he gets scolded for taking too much of Yuu's attention and told to act accordingly next playdate. He's openly cold to Yuu even though she's much higher in social status than him, he just wants her to leave him ALONE. But then, Kalim is nervous before a playdate. He's been hearing rumors about how Yuu is ill and doesn't want to leave her family's home more and more these days. But maybe a day with him and Jamil will be enough to brighten her spirits!

Yuu spends the entire playdate not even looking at Jamil let alone talking to him, he might as well be a smear on the wall. She's even withdrawn from Kalim, very quiet and not up for playing any of their normal games. When Yuu has gone home, Jamil goes to his room and just CRIES. He never realized just how much Yuu SEEING meant to him. He found her clinginess to be annoying, she talked too much, she couldn't just focus on Kalim like every other rich kid whose family tried to cozy up to the Asims. But now...going an entire day with her not even looking at him...it hurts...

So yeah! When Yuu comes back to life she's basically heartbroken that her crushes and the men who she considered to be her best friends didn't even try to help her while she died. If they hate her so much, then fine, she gives up she won't talk to them anymore...But now she's sad and alone, she had three 'friends' and now she has no friends. so She just stays alone in the family home while her dads worry and try their best to brighten her days and keep her socialized.

[echobx]

Twin Flame 4 - pervy!bsf!JJ Maybank × pervy!bsf!fem!reader

summary: y/n and JJ nearly get found out, and they are both separately figuring out what they feel for each other

word count: 3.3k

warnings: oral (male receiving), ball play, fingering, emotional conflicts (?), y/n battling jealousy

author's note: I accidentally wrote reader to be a microlabel of aromaticism. It was not my intial intention but now I'm embracing it. the romantic attraction is called quoiromantic and it's described as not being able to differentiate between romantic and platonic love and therefore being unsure if one ever has experienced romantic attraction at all. This will still end in a way that we'll all be happy, so don't be scared. And also, I think we should all embrace to be a little more inclusive, even if it starts with an accident.

series masterlist ♡ part 1 ♡ part 2 ♡ part 3

   You had talked to Sarah, in secret, knowing she wouldn't tell anyone, but you still hadn't mentioned JJ in it all. She explained the feelings part to you, the dizziness, the warmth, the increased loneliness when John B wasn't with her, the way her heart skipped when he smiled at her, how waking up next to him made every day seem a little brighter. 

   It gave you not much more clarity, though. You had always felt similarly towards JJ, he was your best friend after all. The uncertainty towards the whole thing made you not want to think or talk about it ever again. 

   Especially not when all you wanted to do was wake JJ by sucking him off. It wasn't uncommon for him to wake up with a boner anyway, especially not when you spent the night over. And maybe the fact that no one knew about your situation made it even better, because if they did, they would want you to act couple-y, and you were against that entirely. You weren't made to hold hands while walking through a park or over the beach. You weren't made to look at each other with love sick eyes and constant smiles plastered over your face. 

   No, you were made to give your best friend the head of his life as he slowly gained consciousness. Bopping your head and swirling your tongue, while your hand stroked the rest of his length, not being able to fit all of him unless you forced yourself to. Sometimes, when he got really whiny, without waking up still, you kissed and licked his balls while your hand took care of his cock. 

   The first time you had done it, he had woken up almost instantly, but now, he was better at keeping himself half asleep until he nutted. It wasn't like he missed much by not watching you, after all, you basically blew him just as much as he ate you out. 

   Sex was the only thing the two of you were good at together, and the friends part, but mainly sex. The shift from friends who fuck to fuck buddies that are also friends happened pretty drastically after that day at the lagoon. Neither of you complained, as your sex drives were at similar high levels. 

   “Shit, right there, baby,” JJ moaned, his morning voice was raspy, and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. 

   “JJ! Get up! We said we'd go fishing!” John B pounded against the door, and you looked up at JJ with furrowed brows, yet you continued to torture him with your perfect lips and throat. 

   “Fuck!” he hissed and leaned up, putting his weight on his elbows. “Gimme ten, I'll meet you outside.” 

   “Fine, but be quick about it. We still gotta go and pick y/n up,” JB yelled through the door, and you paused your actions. How could you forget about that? And how would you be able to make it home in time and still have time left to shower and change so you wouldn't smell like sex all day long. 

   “You wanna keep going?” JJ quirked his brow, and you sucked him off harsher, fastening your pace and hollowing your cheeks until he cursed. His legs started to tremble, and he shot his salty cum down your throat. 

   “Gonna repay you later,” he panted, lying back while you grabbed the water bottle next to his bed and washed down the rest of him inside your mouth. 

   “I have to go.” Hastily you put your clothes back on, unable to find your second sock and your bra, but that didn't matter anyway, you could pick them up next time. 

   “We could just let him know,” JJ sighed, still fighting to come down from his high. 

   “No. They'll ask why we aren't together, and I don't want to explain to them that it's not like that. They wouldn't get it,” you argued while tying your shoes. 

   “Forgot about that,” JJ murmured, as if he suddenly had a different opinion on it than you. 

   “Where did he park?” you asked and JJ got up to check the windows, first in his own room, then the bathroom and lastly the living room before walking back to you.

   “Take the bathroom. I'll stall him some more,” JJ sighed, and you nodded, but before you could steal yourself away he pulled you into him, kissing you deeply and making your head spin. “Be safe, all right.” 

   “See you in twenty,” you nodded and went to climb out of the bathroom window. 

   JJ wasn't a fan of you rather running away from him than facing the truth, but he couldn't blame you either. If it had been anyone but you, he would've run too. But it wasn't, and he was sure that it could work. He knew he could actually fall for you, more than just the crush he had started to develop. He knew he could be everything you wanted and needed. 

   He wished to just be honest with his friends, even if they wouldn't get it, because not being able to touch you all day long was taking a toll on him. Simply placing his arm over your shoulders wasn't enough. He wanted you in his lap while sharing a blunt, being allowed to play with the strings of your swimsuit, kissing your neck and lips and most of all admiring your body without anyone giving him a side eye for it. 

   When he walked out of his house to meet John B, his best friend groaned. 

   “That was twenty. You know, you don't gotta jerk off every fucking morning, right?” 

   “Fuck off,” JJ grumbled and got into the bus. The heavy weed smell of the bus was drowning out the last bit of your scent that he still had in his nose, and it annoyed him. He wanted you to be his, visible to everyone, and not just in private. 

   “Who crumbled your cookies?” John B huffed while starting the engine. 

   “Just not in the mood today. Let's just go,” JJ said while turning to look out the window. He couldn't really find anything truly enjoyable anymore unless you were with him. You were like a sickness to his brain and heart, one he truly couldn't shake even if he tried to. 

   Your house appeared in front of him, and a smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe this was how soldiers felt when they came back from war and saw their loved ones for the first time in years,” he thought to himself, while John B parked. 

   “I'm gonna go get her,” JJ jumped out of the bus before John B could argue with him over it. He strolled over to your bedroom window, pulling it open and climbing inside without waiting for you to allow him too. He could hear the water running in the shower and made his way to the bathroom. 

   Leaning against the door frame, he watched you, the clear glass door leaving little to the imagination as you fingered yourself under the stream of hot water. He was enthralled by you, how your head fell back as you came, moaning his name, always his. 

   You jumped when you opened the shower door to see him standing there. “Jesus fucking Christ, JJ!” 

   “Do your fingers even reach that high?” he smirked. 

   “High enough,” you stuck out your tongue, and he pulled you closer, grasping your chin and tilting your head back to kiss you. 

   “Got me all fucked up over here. Might need to use those pretty lips again,” JJ whispered against your lips before letting go of you. 

   “Is he waiting outside?” you asked, finally taking a towel and wrapping yourself up to dry. 

   “Yeah, I should go back out asap so he doesn't try to come in here too,” he mumbled. 

   “I need at least five more minutes,” you told him while roughly drying off your hair with an old shirt. 

   “I can fuck you in two,” JJ rasped into your ear, pulling your back flush against his chest, his hands firm on your hips. 

   “That would render my shower useless,” you sighed. 

   “How so?” 

   “I don't want to smell like sex all day long,” you complained softly. 

   “I love when you smell like sex. Literally the best smell in the world. They should make it into perfume,” JJ chuckled and kissed your cheek before stepping away and walking back towards the window. “Five minutes, princess.” 

   The day went smoothly, JJ managed to stay far enough away from you so it wouldn't be questionable, but also not too far, to not raise suspicion that you were fighting again. Both sides of the spectrum weren't to his or your favor. 

   The tricky part came later that night, when Kiara drunkenly proposed a game of Truth or Dare. 

   “Pleaseeeee,” she cried out and put her best puppy face on to convince you to play, but you couldn't resist her, just as much as the rest of your friends could. 

   “Fine. Truth,” you agreed, and she giggled. 

   “Last time you masturbated,” Kie hiccuped. 

   “This morning, in the shower,” you admitted freely. There wasn't much you were embarrassed about, and as long as the questions didn't get too specific, you could even talk about JJ without anyone noticing.

   “Truth or Dare, Pope,” you asked and when he chose dare, you made him shotgun a beer. 

   The game went on for a while. JJ had to talk about his favorite blowjob, and he happily shared the time you sucked him off while he was playing some type of video game while Pope and John B had been oblivious on the other sides of their screens. Maybe you shouldn't have grinned as much over it, after all he had done his best to divert their questions over the girl who'd done it, and you shouldn't ruin it for the both of you. 

   But the lightness was shifting as soon as Kie dared you to kiss JJ. You wanted to opt for a quick peck, nothing to draw any attention, but JJ was JJ. His tongue was chasing your own before you could remember why you really shouldn't be doing this while your friends were watching. 

   “Wow, okay. Maybe next time take it a bit slower, J,” Sarah laughed. 

   “Yeah,” you mumbled, sitting back down and trying to sort your head out. 

   “Who's next?” JJ asked, a proud grin on his face. 

   “Truth or Dare, J,” John B smirked devilishly. 

   “Truth,” JJ nodded. 

   “Who was with you this morning?” 

   “No one,” JJ shrugged, and it was almost believable. 

   “You had a bra lying in your hallway,” John B snorted a laugh. 

   “I haven't cleaned up in a while. Must belong to one of those tinder dates,” JJ shrugged. 

   “That makes no sense. Do you know how expensive bras are?” Kiara spoke up, pulling you into her side. “Tell’m how fucking expensive that shit is, y/n.”

   “Very expensive,” you nodded, avoiding his eyes, in fear anyone of them would draw a connection that you rather kept hidden. 

   “I'm telling you, I was alone. And if she doesn't want her bra back, that's not my fault,” JJ shrugged and kept on with the game, even though the rest of your friends truly weren't convinced. 

   “Do you have any cool scars?” Cleo asked you because you had yet again chosen Truth. After having to kiss JJ, you really didn't want to risk another dare. 

   “No, not really,” you shook your head, but before you could move on JJ spoke up. 

   “Don't you have that one that looks like half a heart, right next to your left tit?” 

   “And how would you know that?” John B raised both eyebrows and JJ knew he fucked up. 

   “Uh… we grew up together. She's had that for ages. Right?” JJ looked at you, pleading for you to say anything, but you just stared at him. “You know what, I'm completely shit-faced, I'm prolly confusing that with, uhm… what's her name,” he snapped his fingers four times, “Polly, from drama club.” 

   “You hooked up with Drama Polly?” Pope snorted. 

   “Yeah,” JJ shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't be a hundred percent sure that he had in the past, but Polly really wasn't ugly or mean, so he probably had at some point. His standards weren't too high when it came to it. 

   You didn't like to think about JJ having sex with other people, you'd never been particularly fond of it, but now it was even worse. When you thought about it, you felt like someone was pulling on every one of your limbs, stretching you to the limit of your capacity. It wasn't even something you thought you could enjoy watching. Maybe if you could be sure that he was still all yours, and didn't actually desire the other person, but you couldn't be sure of it and talking to him would make him think that you were in love with him. Something you didn't want him to think because you didn't know if it was true. 

   “Earth to y/n?” Cleo waved her hand in front of your face, and you snapped out of your thoughts. Clearing your throat and smiling at your friends as if nothing had happened. Just JJ looked at you for a moment longer than needed, concerned where your mind had taken you. 

   “Is it my turn?” you asked sweetly, and they laughed. 

   “You gotta pick someone?” Cleo raised her brow at you and you nodded. 

   “Yes, right, my bad,” you muttered and moved on, leaving the daunting thoughts at the back of your mind to haunt you later. 

   “I dare you to show me the last picture in your camera roll,” Kiara hollered, and JJ shook his head. 

   “Not happening.” 

   “Now we just wanna see it even more,” Sarah pouted, but you didn't pay much mind to it. You knew it was probably the latest dick pic he had intended to send you but chosen not to. 

   “It's nothing I should show anybody. Not my place to,” JJ shrugged and picked up his can, taking a big gulp of beer. 

   “Why?” she leaned forward, and John B had to hold her back so she wouldn't tumble over and land face first in the dirt. 

   “Because it's not appropriate, or of me,” JJ hissed back at her, and you furrowed your brows. You couldn't remember having sent him anything recently. Was he seeing other people? Was that why he was so scared to show them? To show you?

   “You know we can keep a secret,” you tilted your head to the side, jealousy was getting the better of you even though you truly didn't understand why. 

   “I don't think you would want to see it, or want me to show it to anyone,” JJ stared at you, piercing your soul in an unwavering glare. But you were too consumed by the thought that he could have slept, or even just thought about sleeping with, someone who wasn't you. 

   “I think we can take it,” Kie giggled. 

   “Don't say I didn't warn you,” JJ looked at you, almost apologetic, while taking out his phone and handing it over to you. His passcode was still the same as ever, your birthday. Your fingers swiped over the screen and when you saw the picture he had taken, you wanted to throw his phone into the ocean, never to be found again. 

   You felt yourself go crimson at it. The visual of you kissing his balls while your hand was wrapped around his cock. Maybe the only condolences you got was when Kie ripped the phone from your hands and asked who it was. Perhaps, with the slightest chance in the world, they wouldn't be able to tell. Your face was mainly hidden, the only thing that could give you away was the color of your finger nails. A bright neon green. 

   “Seriously, dude? That's from this morning!” John B exclaimed. “You fuckin’ liar. I knew there was someone in there!” You balled your hands, hiding your nails on the inside of your palms, digging crescent shapes into the soft flesh. 

   “Distasteful,” Pope shook his head and handed the phone back to JJ. 

   “How'd you smuggle her out? Through a window? Or did you tell her to wait until we were gone?” John B bludgeoned, and you felt like you wanted to go up in flames. Only Cleo kept her focus on you, and you really didn't like it at all. 

   “Is anyone cold? I feel cold,” you mumbled before getting up and walking inside, not waiting for a reply. 

   “Is it you?” Cleo whispered as soon as she stepped into the bedroom where you had sat down, JJ’s long sleeve shirt pulled over your body in the hopes to find some warmth and tranquility. 

   “Why would it be me?” you smiled at her, but you knew it wasn't convincing. 

   “Your hands, and you've been acting weird all day,” she shrugged, sitting down by your side. 

   “I don't know what you mean.” Lying was easy, but not convincing. Not this time. 

   “I’m not gonna tell them. But maybe you should start being more honest, not just with all of us,” she sighed, putting her arm over your shoulders. “There's nothing unusual about falling in love with your best friend.” 

   “I'm not in love,” you shook your head. 

   “That's okay too.”

   “How do you know you love Pope?” you broke out and she smiled. 

   “He’s smart and funny and kind,” Cleo went on and on about all of Pope's incredible qualities and how she really didn't mean to fall in love with anyone, and yet she hadn't been able to deny it when it did happen. 

   “I'm not sure how you can say that this, all of it, describes your love for him when I've always felt like that towards my friends. Maybe not as strong, but it's the same concept,” you explained. 

   “Have you talked to him about that?” 

   “Not really. We don't talk much about feelings. I don't want to. Why would I destroy perfectly good sex and an amazing friendship with the idea that maybe I could love him more than I already do. I grew up with him, I know every little detail about him. How can I not love him like I love John B or you or Kie or any of them. You're all my friends,” you explained quietly. 

   “Yeah, but you can't picture yourself making out with Pope or John B, right?” she smiled. 

   “That's different, they are both in relationships and not my type,” you argued. 

   “And if JJ was in a relationship?” 

   “I'd miss the sex, but he's still my best friend,” you shrugged. 

   “What if his new partner was against you being his best friend? Not everyone likes the idea of someone so close to their partner that they pose a threat.” 

   “Then I'd tell him to find someone else. Friends are for life. Love rarely lasts,” you were sure of it. Your life had never proposed anything less than it as the truth. First, JJ’s mom ran off, then John B’s; your dad had an affair when you were seven, your mom when you were ten, since then they had stayed together, without any side quests for all you knew, but they were still not happy. 

   “And what if you get both? A best friend who loves you?” Cleo squeezed you a bit before letting loose again. 

   “That seems rare. And what if one falls out of love with the other? Then you lose your friend and your partner,” you explained, and she chuckled. 

   “You should really have a talk with him about this. I'll keep your secret.” Then she got up and left you alone, sitting by yourself and wondering what could be if the world was built with unicorns and rainbows in mind, instead of reality. 

read part 5 here

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24

[sepublic]

What’s further absurd about Camila being more of a mom to Hunter than Luz in fanon is that. Camila and Hunter have two(2) solo interactions across the entire show and it’s Hunter kneeling to Camila to say thanks and her telling him not to do that, and then her pulling him out of the water. Thats it, the scenes transition to Hunter and Gus talking or the group worrying about Hunter. But then we see Camila interact with Luz at the end of the episode, in fact she has MULTIPLE interactions with Luz that episode and in general!!!

Meanwhile Darius is right there, he was mean to Hunter once, but he made up for it in the same episode by validating Hunter, looking out for him, giving him a way to talk to his new friends! He worries about Hunter in Hollow Mind. When the kids reunite with their parents, Hunter has nobody until Darius shows up.

And if y’all can forgive Eda for being immature with King a few times in S1, you can do the same for Darius. If you can forgive Alador’s abuse and neglect towards his kids by embracing their forgiveness, Darius is nothing. Darius is basically the only adult to actually talk to Hunter directly besides you know who and Eda, but that was twice and she was making fun of him the first time. Raine also showed concern but I barely see that dynamic.

It’s insane because it’s not enough that Hunter needs love from an adult for these people, they need it to be Camila’s love specifically!!! Despite Luz’s entire arc and the show in general being kicked off from Luz feeling like her mother didn’t love her enough by sending her to that reality check camp. Oh, Hunter needs someone kind for him because of trauma? Luz also has trauma, S3 has her go on a thinly-veiled suicidal rant.

Istfg I see Camila and Hunter more than I see Camila and Amity, and at least Amity is basically her daughter in law, plus it’s Amity getting away from her two abusive white parents. Meanwhile people denying Darius are demonizing him for being a black man who was mean once.

He’s not even Luz’s brother, and I’m sure part of the insistence of Camila as Hunter’s mom is an extension of that; Except the ‘Siblings’ dynamic between Luz and Hunter is inaccurate and exaggerated, esp in favor of Luz and King or Vee! We see so much fanart and fanfic of Camila just hanging out with Hunter even casually without angst, but not her own blood daughter.

Like yeah maybe it’s fun to explore the two-month period in the human realm and how Camila was the only adult these kids had; But people continue to hype her up as Hunter’s mom in settings outside of that timeframe!!! We see Luz come out to her mom and everything, we have her being raised by her mother! And Camila taking care of Hunter would not suck so hard if Luz wasn’t completely overshadowed, if Hunter wasn’t everywhere and inserted into everything! With fans insisting Hunter’s a Noceda and NEEDS to be in group photos like that, insisting on joint custody as if Luz and Camila don’t have that much of a relationship with Hunter to begin with and Darius is sufficient, crying about how he deserved more in the finale! Boohoo.

I’m gonna be real here, Hunter fans are the weakest link in this fandom despite being the most prevalent at this rate. They’ll rather make up stuff for him to talk about than acknowledge other characters, or even take other characters’ moments to give to him; Like remember when Luz had a nightmare sequence where she was dressed in Belos’ clothes and felt the weight of everyone’s accusations, and then some fanartist made a piece of that happening to Hunter instead??? I have to see Camila hugging Hunter while he wields String Bean, who is Luz’s Palisman when Waffles is right there without a confirmed creation date, so they could’ve easily been shortly after the finale!!!

It is SUCH an admission of envy and unconscious racism that y’all need to take traits and moments that belong to other characters and give it to your white boy to enjoy them, instead of enjoying these characteristics with the characters they actually belong to! And don’t make this about you and how you personally aren’t consciously racist or whatever, because this is about a group trend and PoC should not have to bear the burden of screening every individual of guilt. And yeah it is racist, hell it’s basically the Mammy archetype where a WoC is expected to prioritize her white charge over her own child.

And don’t even try to argue you’re innocent because you’re a PoC, PoC are just as capable of white favoritism and I speak from experience! For chrissakes everyone we’re snappy about this because being gentle about it has never worked for PoC. If you feel upset by this than actually do something about it and learn instead of wallowing in self pity or even denying it.

[gorgeouslypink]

hey pink!

i was hoping you could offer some encouragement and advice to me. basically the entire luckyvoidgirl thing yesterday, i acctually liked her success story, it made sense to me and i even listened to cee's subliminal and my parents ended up saying i don't have to go to this dumb event i was dreading so im even seeing successes with it

the thing was she said something that i can't stop thinking about. she said that a lot of tumblr is just misinformation and that the original blog that brought the void to tumblr was divineangelbee and she was exposed for lying about the void. everyone just copied whatever she said and kept spreading the same stuff she put out but her own experience was all a lie. it really got me thinking about how educated this community is about loa, like the void state and loa is so intertwined. luckyvoidgirl never said she used loa and she did something different but she got so much flack bc the void community on tumblr is so deeprooted in loa, possibly bc of angel. but anyways for a community that is so deeprooted in loa, so many people haven't entered and even worse, so many bloggers have been exposed for lying about their success story. the crazy thing is its so easy to lie on tumblr so the fact that so many have gotten caught makes me wonder how many we haven't even caught and really how does a community that knows loa struggle like this.

idk i just can't stop thinking about this and was hoping for some guidance.

hey love! im technically on break but you're not the only one spiraling so i rlly wanted to answer this.

first of all, i want to say she's just lying and this community is great but i can't. the truth of the matter is she is right. the person who brought the void to tumblr was @divineangelbee and she was the one who went around saying it was super easy and anyone can do it and she was and is still pretty much the blueprint for how a lot of voidstate tumblr thinks, but she was exposed for harassing her friends to enter the void for her. since then, many other bloggers who basically parrot the same thing as her have been exposed as well.

however i want to highlight something here. just because someone preaches something and it doesn't work out for them doesn't mean it's false. this is a super old argument, like back when bloggers like cleo and raven were super popular but people were arguing abt Sammy Ingram. basically she was a big affirm and persist girlie and people were going at her for saying this but never losing any weight (her main goal with manifestation was to lose weight but she never did and just gaslighted anyone who pointed it out, saying they were bodyshaming her). while something was off for sammy (maybe she didn't persist or maybe she just didn't bother doing her method at all), her method worked for so many people. there's boatloads and boatloads of success stories from her videos and methods. so someone can be lying about the void and still be giving legit advice.

however, the void state community on tumblr DOES have a lot of misinformation. ive seen people claim the void state is just SATS, just alpha state, theta state, delta state, it's acc just a placebo for you to guarantee manifestations, and all sorts of nonsense. now there's a new addition, people who tell you to pay money and they'll get you into the void state. it's honestly crazy how hard the community went against the luckyvoidgirl but not some of the other stuff i see here.

but anyways, what do you do?

you need to realize that you entering the void has nothing to do with the state of the void community on tumblr. people lying abt entering the void doesnt make the void a lie, it makes them a liar.

ive been in that position where i hailed bloggers and felt attached to this community so drama here messed with me internally. you shouldn't be doing that. please read my Doubts post where i talk about overcoming this and also provide many sources of proof that the void is real so that you don't need to rely on tumblr to know that:

also it helps to find a few reputable sources. i just wanted to give a shout out to someone rn: @voidprincessblog

her page is the page i would recommend to everyone. you can tell the amount of research and effort she puts into every post and you can trust her to be a reputable source on info.

im going to attach this other post of mine for you as well:

i wish you the best of luck on your void journey and hope this helps! 💟

[emthimofnight]

are there any core personality traits that both normal stellar and villain stellar share?

Yes they do! 😁

At her core, Stellar is a curious, intelligent, and fun-loving person. Even Villain!Stellar inherited the playful gene from Sonic, despite the fact she hides it very well. I imagine without the watchful eye of her supervisors and the immense weight of all the expectations set upon her, she'd actually have a very quiet soft side.

I can see her seeing a kitten in real life for the first time and being totally enamored, crouching down to pet it with a small smile on her tired face. Maybe stopping to admire a blooming cherry tree, or taking a seat in an open, sunny field just to feel the wind in her quills.

Ingrained within her is the innate love of Earth, a feeling that was passed down from both of her parents. I think a lot of her life is spent locked up, so those brief moments she is allowed out on some top secret mission, she really memorizes every new thing she gets to see. After all, her room back at Cosmic Labs is sterile, sparsely decorated, and blindingly florescent.

She is also a very emotional person, but in this AU that aspect of her is greatly suppressed, meaning her outbursts of emotion are far more explosive than her hero counterpart. She bottles things up, quietly resents, and simmers in her rage.

I even think she has her sense of justice, still, albeit twisted. She is basically brainwashed, so she THINKS she's on the right side of the fence, even if she's not. It's also what makes her so passionate about her missions, she sees it as a way of proving her worth and securing validation. She has no parental figures besides the scientists that raised her, so her self-esteem is almost entirely hinged upon her identity as the Perfected Ultimate Lifeform, as that is what they expect her to be.

[bonefall]

instead of asking what parts of wind you’ll be getting rid of, i’ll instead ask what parts you’re keeping. the list is shorter then haha

FROSTPAW AND WHISTLEPAW.

Best part of Wind is the bond between these two, in fact, the entire plot about WindClan felt like it dropped out of the alternate universe where the books are good. The sudden dream of catastrophe, the way StarClan gave Frostpaw this sign on purpose to make them know she's legitimate, Whistlepaw injuring herself to try and save her little sister... Even the little details, like Nightcloud and Hootwhisker trying to drag the tree by the trunk, were neat to see.

I Dont Rewrite Arcs Until They Are Done BUT I do know that I'm going to elevate and expand what's going on with Frost and Whistle. They're fantastic.

Another small thing I'm actually planning on keeping is this exchange between Squilf and Jayfeather, which you'll probably find surprising since I'm so open about how much I dislike the way they've made Squilfstar less proactive;

In a better book, I think this could have been a GREAT moment.

What I dislike about this exchange is that Squilf is able to rebuke it, because the writers DO feel that Bramblestar was a good leader. They're trying to show that Squilfstar is going to act more "mature" (read: boring) with her role now, probably to make a point about how Bramblestar wasn't being "indecisive" for the 10 years we were stuck with him but "responsible." Basically, she gets the power and finds out it isn't so easy-- I'll even bet at some point in the next arc or two she'll become frustrated by someone acting the way she used to.

I've seen some people praising this, and like, it's not illegal to have bad taste. But I think this is an AWFUL thing to do with a character who could have finally caused interesting things to happen, on top of just feeling like contempt of criticism on behalf of the writers.

"Ohhhh they thought she would be more decisive than our beloved baby boy, WELL, WE'LL SHOW THEM. You will sit through 10 paragraphs of debate no matter WHO is in charge!!!"

But like I said....... in a better book, this could have been great. If this was a wake-up call for her.

Suddenly experiencing the full weight of responsibility upon herself, she stops making bold decisions. The complicated political situation in front of her, individual opinions of her Clan around her, and the wounded glares of the furious Brambleclaw below her are all acting like briar vines, pulling her down.

Even StarClan itself seems to have placed a weight on her, cats who she's followed faithfully and been punished by.

So Jayfeather, with all of the changes he has in BB, brawling with angels, speaking defiance to the stars, and pulling spirits down from the heavens, is the perfect cat to be honest with her.

I'm still trying to find a good way to describe the electricity between them in this moment. BB!Jayfeather once reached up his paw through the veil between life and death to grab her ankle and fetch her from her own trial, knowing that she wanted to keep living. He's part of whatever motion she took to remove Bramblestar from power. Her son, her cleric, her ally. How do I put these emotions into words?

"Did you come this far just to become someone else?"

Just... what a moment it could be. For this to be the second that Squilfstar realizes in spite of everything, Bramblestar's thorns still jab at her. That she has to move forward, DAMN the uncertainty, by being herself.

[vocallywritten]

The conversation around Luke Newton in the Bridgerton fandom really makes me uncomfortable. Like, it is shitty to talk about Nicola Coughlan's body, and it is also shitty to talk about Luke Newton's body, but no one really talks about the body shaming Luke N has gotten basically since season 2. Don't get me wrong, I'm really glad to see people not putting up with comments on Nicola's body and embracing her as the lead. I think that's good and also what she deserves as a person.

However, it seems to me that a lot of the people who are loud about making sure Nicola isn't body shamed are not only silent about the same thing when it happens to Luke, but some of them actively participate in body shaming him. It's kind of gone under the radar and not really talked much about, but Nicola refused to undergo a body transformation for Penelope. I think that was the right choice and I really respect it. But Luke Newton DID go through a body transformation for his character, and the way people talked about it the entire time was so nasty.

At first, when he had a little fluff on him during season 2 (he wasn't even fat he had just clearly gained a little weight which is fine and normal and wardrobe on the show did him no favors, presumably to play into the "Bridgerton Lead Glow Up") but when he was announced as the season 3 lead, I REMEMBER all the people throwing fits online because they didn't think he was attractive enough to be the lead. That they just couldn't see him in a romantic or sex scene because of how he looked.

Of course there were people who wanted to defend him by telling everyone to "just wait for that Bridgerton Glow Up" and I'm sure their hearts were in the right place. There's even a good point in there, which is that the show will purposely nerf the attractiveness of its actors so that the contrast is more impressive. That the writing and acting also made Colin and Penelope seem very young and so they didn't have a presence onscreen as a Romantic Lead that could carry a sex scene, but that was intentional on the show's part, and the writing and acting could EARN that onscreen presence for the characters.

But what it really ended up sounding like was , "no it's okay guys, because Luke Newton may not be hot now, but he will be! And then it will be okay that he's the season 3 lead, because they'll make him attractive enough." And that's such a shitty message.

Then season 3 dropped and all of a sudden people can't stop talking about how hot Luke Newton is ALL OF A SUDDEN 🙄 . It's in interviews, it's all over the internet. "That Bridgerton Glow Up!" They talked about it to HIS FACE like they were so blown away at how attractive he actually is. Which I don't think is the compliment they seemed to think it is. Luke Newton seemed to take that all in good humor in the interviews though so maybe it didn't bother him. But it bothered me, okay?

Beyond the Bridgerton Glow Up talk, Luke Newton's body transformation really went under remarked. He did a couple of interviews for men's magazines about getting in shape, but by and large, the fact that it happened wasn't really a big topic of conversation. I am of two minds on this. On one hand, I think that's actually great to let people's bodies change without having any kind of intense scrutiny about it, and I do think this highlights the double standard when it comes to men vs women having body changes in the public eye. Women are heavily scrutinized, while men have a lot more leeway. If Nicola had decided to lose weight for the role, I guarantee you 80% of all her questions on the press tour would have been about her weight loss and how she did it. Not really so for Luke. On the other hand, I think there is this weird almost entitlement the audience feels to seeing a certain type of male body on film? Especially in a sex scene. So I kind of wonder if a part of the silence on Luke's body change stems from that. Like, "of course he lost weight and started going to the gym more to prepare for the role. He's a leading man!" Like it's just such an ingrained expectation now that people don't even question the fact that they expect it?

Although there is one aspect of Luke's body transformation that people really fixated on and I think even beyond the fat shaming, this felt the grossest to me. And that's the plastic surgery speculations.

Now I have no idea if Luke Newton got plastic surgery or not, and I really don't care either way. He's come out in interviews saying he didn't, and I think that should be the end of that. But the way that people immediately started ripping into him when season 3 dropped because of these plastic surgery speculations made me despair for humanity. People said such awful things, and a lot of it was so *personal*, attacking Luke as a person and his abilities as an actor because they thought he had work done. Like even if he did, why do you care so much? Plastic surgery is basically an industry standard at this point, and so many people bullied this man about how he looked for so long that I would understand if he did! If he did get plastic surgery, that wouldn't then mean that anyone gets a free pass for talking bad about him. You could make the argument that plastic surgery sets an unrealistic standard, especially if you are open about your change in diet and exercise, and attribute only those things to how different you look, but I think that's a systematic problem, and not one you're going to solve by shaming one actor you *think* might be doing it.

At the end of the day, Luke Newton would have been great in his role if he looked like he did in season 3 or season 2. He didn't NEED to change his physical appearance to be worthy of a role he had already been cast in years ago. I doubt very much his performance would have changed, even if he physically stayed the same. It's not bad that he underwent a physical transformation, and I think no one has any right to tell him what he should and shouldn't do with his body. My ultimate point is that I wish people would stop acting like actors need to fit a certain mold to be good at their jobs, or to be worthy of respect. Body shaming Luke is as detrimental to the cause as body shaming Nicola. Stop acting like it's good to stand up for one person, only to turn around and body shame someone else just because you don't like them. It only tells me that you actually do care what people look like, but you're willing to overlook physical "flaws" in a person if you like them. Which is not good actually!

In conclusion, leave Luke Newton alone you absolute freaks.

[elementalwriter67]

Bat Family Olympics

I came up with this based off of all the stuff I've been seeing about the Olympics and a few posts about the bat-family participating in the Olympics. And I couldn't help myself because I'm slowly being pulled back into this fandom (not that I ever really left, I basically just went on holiday.) So here is a very quickly put together list of the bat-family, and friends, and the Olympic sport I think they would participate in.

Bruce- I think Bruce would be really good at Sport Climbing because of all the grappling and parkouring he does around Gotham. I just don't think that he would come in gold though, maybe bronze, and it's a hundred percent because he's trying not to give the citizens of Gotham any more reasons to suspect that he's Batman.

Alfred- He's one of the older competitors at the Olympics and everyone expects him to be competing in a sport that would more suited for his age. So they're all incredibly surprised when he walks out to compete in Boxing. Even better is he wins Gold and the entire crowd goes nuts because it was the absolutely most nail-biting fight they've ever witnessed because it's Alfred against this young guy who looks like he could run circles around Alfred any day of the week. Little do they know Alfred has more than enough experience from having lived in Gotham and having experienced his fair share of break-ins at the manor. Side note: While everyone else is cheering the rest of the bat-family (while thrilled for Alfred) are busy remembering why it is they fear Alfred more than Bruce.

Selena- I went back and forth on a couple of different sports for Selena before I ultimately decided that she would kick ass at Surfing and absolutely take Gold in it. I have no other reasons for it other than I just think she would be good at it, that she would look good in a bathing suit (obviously,) and that she probably had opportunities to learn when she was taking her eccentric vacations outside of Gotham.

Dick- This one is going to be obvious but honestly it's his fault and that is Gymnastics. I believe the reasons behind this are self explanatory honestly. He does take gold though as to be expected.

Jason- Again another self explanatory one because hello he uses guns and he gets the gold. He is the only one however that has to participate under a different name because while Gotham may have accepted the fact that Jason just miraculously came back from the dead and that the rest of the Wayne family are just pretending that nothing every happened. The rest of the world and the legal system have not so as far as the rest of the world is concerned Jason Todd is still dead. He does however have a twin brother named Peter Todd who is an Olympic champion in shooting.

Tim- I didn't really know what to give Tim because there's no Olympic sport for hacking yet so I decided to give him Cycling Mountain Bike. In part because I thought it would be funny, and also in part because I think he needs the adrenaline rush of hurling himself down a mountain with very little protection to feel alive. He places Silver and oddly enough still doesn't feel anymore alive.

Steph- Does weightlifting. She doesn't look like she does so everyone just assumes it's kind of a joke when she steps up for the weightlifting portion of the Olympics. But little do they know that she weight training with the fridge of man we call Jason Todd, she's just all lean muscle. So when she lifts this weight that is easily three times her own body weight the crowd looses it much like with Alfred, and Steph goes home with the Gold. And Jason is standing off to the side beaming with pride.

Damian- Again self explanatory because he does fencing. He does it mainly because it's a good, approved, way of hitting people with a sword. It may not be his katana but it'll do. He also thinks it's one of the more dignified and better sports of the Olympics. And yes he does take the gold. An Al Ghul and a Wayne would settle for nothing less.

Babs- I think she would do Equestrian and I think it would be a hundred percent because she had a horse girl phase growing up and she always wanted a horse of her own but was never able to get one growing up in the city and on a cop's salary. She doesn't get the gold, doesn't even really place if she's being honest, but boy howdy is she happy she got to participate in it to begin with.

Cassandra- She went back to her roots (I think they're her roots, I'm a little rusty on my knowledge outside of like the core five) and decided she was going to do Taekwondo. And she absolutely kicks ass at it and easily walks away with Gold.

Duke- I didn't know what to do for Duke, and I didn't want to do something stereotypical like basketball so I went to the left field and decided that Duke would play Handball. He stumbled across the sport on total accident through tik tok but now that he's started playing it he absolutely loves it. It's also a good way for him to get better at throwing things (i.e. batarangs) with more precision and accuracy. His team actually manages to take the Gold at the Olympics too.

Kate- I admittedly don't know much about Kate outside of one batman animated movie that I vaguely remember and what I vaguely remember is that she was angry and grumpy. So I feel like Hockey would be a good sport for her to work out some of those emotions. I also understand that this is a Winter Olympic sport (pretty sure anyways) so she spends the Summer Olympics cheering on the rest of her family. However when the Winter Olympics come along she absolutely dominates on that ice and for sure wins Gold or Silver.

I did these next ones for funsies.

Harley- I think she would do wrestling and she would be a little terrifying at it too honestly. She gets silver but it's only because of a technicality .

Ivy- She does volleyball if only because it's the most environmentally friendly one and doesn't involve riding over/trampling plants like Tim's sport does. Plus she enjoys being in the sun after being stuck in the smog and fog filled city that is Gotham. She gets bronze but only because she kept getting distracted by the sun and would just randomly stand there soaking up rays.

Roy- He does Archery. Side note: Oliver also does archery and him and Roy have mad beef and are constantly trying to one up each other when they compete against one another. So far their amount of Gold medals are tied but Roy maintains that he's still the only one who hasn't ever gotten a bronze medal unlike Oliver which is a whole other story in of itself.

[talesofesther]

souls tied, bound to burn | ch 1

Samantha Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Your move to New York came suddenly, in the hopes of getting closer to what was left of your family. What you weren't expecting was to fall for your sister's roommate, Sam; and little did you know, she'd be your doom, in the prettiest of ways.

A/N: I feel like this story is told in moments, but I do like how it turned out; it is, after all, a story that I poured my heart and soul into. This is one which took many of my sleepless nights, but it was so worth it bringing this idea to life. Cannot thank @iamnicodemus enough for basically being my beta reader and helping me with everything. There will be two more parts to this storyline, but I can't say when they will be posted, as I'm still writing them.

Word count: 10k (limit? never heard of her)

Masterlist

One thing that Sam was still trying to get used to after moving to New York was the lack of calmness.

She had just finished her session with yet another therapist, it was past 10 PM, and the streets were still as busy as ever. There was no shortage of cars or people passing by her as she walked back to her apartment. Sometimes it could be overwhelming and she couldn't get home fast enough. Sometimes it helped to keep her mind a little quieter.

Sam was still unsure of what it felt like today, maybe a mix of both.

Things haven't been easy after everything that happened in Woodsboro, every day the weight on her shoulders worsens and she has no idea how to even start dealing with it. It only became worse after the rumors started.

The steps up the stairs to her apartment felt like a whole workout, after working the entire day Sam was absolutely drained. The hunch on her posture and faint dark bags under her eyes said as much.

Nearing the door, she could hear faint voices coming from inside, one of them she didn't recognize. The tensing of her muscles was inevitable.

Sam turned the doorknob and slowly made her way inside, she closed the door behind her without turning around. There wasn't anything different about the place — TV turned on, cheap yellow lights in the kitchen illuminating the dirty dishes on the sink, low music coming from Tara's room — except Quinn was talking with someone on the couch.

Though Sam didn't know who it was, she already relaxed at the fact that there was no trouble in sight.

She ran a hand through her hair whilst walking to the kitchen, there were leftovers of dinner on two pans over the stove; but despite only having lunch on her stomach, she wasn't hungry. Picking up a clean cup, she filled it with water on the sink and gulped it down.

"Hey, Sam's home," Quinn announced with a chipper voice.

Sam closed her eyes with a sigh before managing a smile, she really didn't feel like socializing right now. But she turned to Quinn anyway.

The girl was perched over the back of the couch, waving Sam over, "come here, I want you to meet someone."

Involuntarily, Sam's eyes drifted to the one who sat beside Quinn; it was a girl she had never seen before, but the gentle smile on her lips made Sam hesitate in her steps. She did walk up to them though, making herself comfortable on the loveseat beside Quinn.

"Sam, this is Y/n, she's my sister," Quinn motioned to you with a grin.

"Sister?" Sam's eyes were huge as she looked between you and Quinn.

"Well, half-sister," Quinn concluded, "it's a long story."

You then gave them a tight-lipped smile, raising your hand in an awkward wave whilst looking at Sam, "it's uh- a pleasure to meet you."

There were several question marks twirling around in Sam's head, but the biggest one seemed to be why she found herself quite trapped in the way the images on the TV highlighted the lines of your jaw, cheeks, and lips. "I'm Samantha- Sam," she stumbled out quickly.

Quinn raised her eyebrows in amusement, a beat of silence passed before she tilted her head towards Sam, "yep, that's Samantha Sam."

The older Carpenter kicked herself internally about ten thousand times. That was awful.

A weird weight filled the air after that. Sam didn't know what to do with herself, she didn't know if she should stay or just go and lock herself in her room. She ended up settling for pretending to watch the TV while you spoke with Quinn. From what Sam heard, you had just arrived in town and were staying in a hotel until you could find an apartment, because apparently, your mother had left a significant amount of money in your name; she also overheard that you were yet to go visit your father.

When it was nearing midnight, you decided to leave, saying something about it already being too late.

Sam watched as Quinn walked you to the door and bid you goodbye with a brief hug. And before the door clicked close, your gaze caught Sam's and you gave her that same gentle smile she'd seen earlier; all the same, it froze her, and Sam saw herself just staring back at you with an emotion even she couldn't place.

Quinn dragged herself back to the living room then, laying down on the empty couch to wait for the inevitable interrogation.

"I didn't know you had a sister," Sam started eventually, mindlessly switching through channels. The room was dimly lit, with the only other lights coming from the kitchen, the brightness of the TV hurt her tired eyes.

"Neither did I."

At that, Sam's attention was fully on Quinn, her brows furrowed.

Quinn shook her head, dismissing the worry, "I mean, I knew, sort of," she explained, "she's from a fling my dad had before he met my mom, I think they broke up when she was born and her mom took her to Boston. Never met her until like, yesterday."

Now, the pieces from what Sam had heard were starting to come together. She wondered just how detached you were from this side of your family until now. "And your father never told you had a sister?"

"He did, in passing, sometimes I heard the calls he'd give her to check in. But she's always been distant," Quinn shrugged.

Sam mulled over the words in her mind, part of her couldn't help but feel wary, "why is she here?"

"Her mother died, she has no other family left."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

It didn't take long for Sam to bump into you again. It happened actually only two days after your visit to Quinn at their apartment.

It was a mildly calm afternoon at the coffee shop Sam worked at. At least for a Thursday, it felt calm. Just a few booths had people sitting on them, and every few minutes someone would stop by to grab a cup of coffee to go.

What the place lacked in fanciness it made up for in coziness — between her shifts here during the week and at the bowling alley on the weekends, it was easy for Sam to pick a favorite, nothing beats the vibe of a coffee shop — the place held warm tones to its decor, brick walls here and there with a few black boards hung up that had order choices written on them with white chalk; there was also a vintage radio on the corner that Sam always sneakily changed the songs of.

Against her own beliefs, she became rather good at preparing lattes and cappuccinos. She mentioned it to Tara once, and the girl said she'd believe it once she drinks it; Sam has been waiting for her to stop by.

Though as with everything, it wasn't perfect. Even before the rumors blaming her for the murders started, Sam was already an outsider, not quite allowed to fit in. She had no friends amongst the staff, only colleagues; and after the rumors, she even considered that to be a stretch.

Sam doesn't mind. She tells herself as much every day before walking in for work. But feeling judgemental eyes burning into your back at least once a day tends to take its toll on someone.

So she keeps to herself, she does her job, and she tries not to give them more reasons to bother her.

The small bell above the door dinged as someone came in, pulling Sam back to the present when she realized she would be the one taking the order.

She straightened her posture and smoothed down her uniform, looking around on the counter for her notepad and pen. Upon finding them, Sam finally glanced up and felt her breathing get momentarily stuck, the usual 'what can I get for you' dying on her tongue.

Part of Sam thinks she'd ironically recognize you anywhere. She realized you had that about you, something that felt unmistakable.

Same thing that happened to her apparently happened to you as well, as your lips hovered yet no words came out. It was that weird moment of I know you but I don't actually know you yet.

You were the first to talk, and Sam wanted to thank you for it. "Hey," you chuckled, somewhat awkwardly, "it's uh- Sam, right? It's nice to see you again."

Try as she might, Sam wasn't able to hold your gaze, she glanced down at her hands before looking at you again, "that's me," she gave you a small smile, "can I get you anything?"

"Yeah…" You dragged on, stuffing your hands on the pockets of your jeans as your gaze skimmed over the order options, "just a simple cappuccino to go, please." You eventually decided.

Sam felt your eyes on her as she scribbled your order down, even if it was just a cappuccino, she had the habit to write them all down. "Coming right up," she said, before turning around to make your order.

Ever since she started working here, she has probably made more than a hundred cappuccinos; yet she found herself checking things twice over. Espresso, steamed milk, foam. Everything carefully poured down on the cup.

You were standing right where she left you once she brought the order to you. That same gentle smile she saw two nights ago was present on your lips when you paid her and bid her goodbye.

Secretly, Sam wondered if you'd be back some other day.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

It was never your plan to come to New York, let alone on your own. But tragedy strikes when you least expect it.

When, on one of his monthly calls to check in on you, you broke the news to your father that your mother had passed, he told you you should come live closer to him if you wanted to. And honestly, not feeling so alone in the world felt appealing.

So you packed everything you had of value, and took the leap. You had your mother to thank for being able to simply do that out of nowhere, she'd left everything of hers in your name, including her company's income.

But money hardly solves all problems, because you never actually met your father's side of the family. All you had were his phone calls, where he would sometimes briefly mention a sister you'd get along with if you were to meet, and not much else.

Upon knowing you'd be coming to the city, he gave you Quinn's contact, promising she would help you find a place to stay. You weren't exactly keen on meeting your sister for the first time all by yourself, but Quinn had been surprisingly easygoing; telling you all about how cool it was to have a sister instead of another brother. And the question 'I have a brother too?' lingered on your tongue, but you thought it would be a weird thing to ask. That was a few days ago, and you settled in a hotel for the time being.

In any way, you had a lot of catching up to do.

And now, anxiety was bubbling relentlessly in your stomach and you clutched tightly at the straps of your backpack. The police station was kinda busy at this time of day, but it was exactly the time he asked you to come in, so you did.

You didn't know exactly what to feel other than anxiety. How is one supposed to feel when they're about to see their father for the first time in their life?

It's a weird situation, though you couldn't really blame your mother for it; yes she took you away shortly after you were born, but from what she told you, she and your father didn't end on the best of terms. From the moment you were born, she'd been protective.

You reached the front desk, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. "Hello," you greeted the woman there.

She glanced up from the pile of papers she'd been sorting out, "hi there, what can I do for you?"

"Um- Detective Bailey asked me to stop by," you explained, and the woman in front of you raised an unamused eyebrow. Even before saying it, the words already felt somewhat strange in your mouth, "he's my father."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Your first two weeks in New York were hectic. Meeting a whole new side of your family was a strange experience, but you'd say it went well. Quinn was the easiest of all, she treated you as if you were one of her friends from university and you appreciated it. Ethan was distant, he was kind and polite, but you could tell he didn't want much to do with you. Your father was, essentially, what you expected him to be; he was kind and attentive, obviously a little awkward just as you were, but he seemed to genuinely care about you; as much as one can care about a daughter they'd never met.

Quinn had been quite insistent on having a sister bonding time with you, so you'd find yourself at her apartment more often than not. This led to you being acquainted with Mindy, Anika, and Chad, who were around just as much as you; plus Sam and Tara, of course.

The youngest of Quinn's roommates took an instant liking to you. Your personality matched Tara's quite well, you were happy to hear every gossip she liked the share about her colleagues at the university and the usual rant about her sister.

Sam, she was not an easy one to read; at first, you thought she might not even like you, but Tara explained that 'that's just how she is, she'll warm up to you eventually'.

Maybe that was part of the reason why you found yourself creating a habit of stopping by a certain coffee shop — after all, they served delicious food and drinks and the place was really cozy; the doe-eyed brunette who worked there was a bonus.

You'd usually stop by later on in the afternoon, when the sunlight had that deep golden glow just an hour or so before disappearing behind the horizon. It was a time of day the coffee shop was a little more crowded, but not as much as it was in the mornings.

Every time you walked in, you found yourself involuntarily looking for Sam; deep down feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush because of the butterflies that invaded your stomach whenever she remembered your order.

You quickly realized the importance of details with Sam. The more you came to eat at the coffee shop, the slightly more comfortable she became with you. It started with her serious expression changing to a small smile whenever she saw you, then she started greeting you by your name, and recently, she has been drawing little smiley faces on your cup.

The usual booth you'd sit at was tucked in a more reserved corner, just beside one of the windows; you liked the privacy. Each time that Sam brought your cappuccino and apple pie, you held yourself back from asking if she could sit down and have a coffee with you.

Maybe tomorrow, you'd think to yourself.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

The smell of freshly made lasagna filled the whole apartment. If you had a good enough sense of smell, you'd be able to tell it was just the slightest bit burned, but no one seemed to care.

Mindy and Chad could be heard bickering about how to properly take said lasagna out of the oven without causing a disaster, Tara was opening up a cheap wine bottle while Anika set the dining table, and Quinn was switching through channels on the TV.

It was a pleasant sight for someone who wasn't used to many of those.

Sam had just gotten out of the shower, towel in her hands as she finished drying off her hair. She had managed to get out of work earlier today and ditched therapy so she could have dinner with her found family — which honestly felt more like therapy than actual therapy.

A chuckle escaped Sam's lips when Mindy called her brother a moron with a halfhearted slap on the back of his head.

And then, three soft knocks came from the front door.

"I got it," Sam told them, hanging her towel over her shoulder as she got over to the door and steadily undid all the locks in it. She knew who it was, Quinn warned you'd be coming for dinner today too. Sam felt a little childish when anticipation started twirling in her stomach.

Selfishly, Sam wanted to think that this specific smile of yours belonged to her.

"Hi," she greeted you with the same softness you stared back at her with; for the second time today, the first being at the coffee shop. Sam figured she wouldn't mind seeing you more often, "come in, dinner is almost ready."

"Hey Sam," you smiled timidly as you walked past her and inside the apartment.

Sam has known you for a little over two weeks, and there should be alarms blaring inside her head for the way she felt so naturally drawn to you. But there wasn't, there was only the softness of your presence and the way she wanted to drown in it.

"Hey new girl," Mindy called, her voice ringing loudly through the room as she peeked over from the kitchen with a grin, "you like lasagna?"

"Of course," you grinned, taking off your jacket and failing to see the way Sam's gaze lingered a little too long on you, "who doesn't like lasagna?"

Mindy pointed a finger at you, "right answer," she quipped before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Sam awkwardly cleared her throat next to you, "let me take this for you."

You glanced beside you to see the girl subtly gesturing for your jacket, unsure if the redness of her cheeks was a trick of the light or not. "Oh, thanks, Sam."

"Alright y'all, dinner's on the table," Mindy announced, getting everyone to flock to the dining room.

It was maybe after the second or third time you'd stopped by that you had unconsciously assigned a seat for yourself at their table. Ironically, it was the one beside Sam.

If you were being honest with yourself, you had a lot to thank this peculiar group of friends; if it wasn't for all the laughs they managed to pull out of you at each dinner, maybe settling in on the new city wouldn't have gone so smoothly. They sure took away the feeling of loneliness that had been steadily collecting in your chest ever since your mother passed.

And you had found a reason to like every single one of them; Mindy was naturally funny and made you feel as welcome as if you'd known her your whole life, and so did Anika; Chad was the exact opposite of what you'd picture him to be, sharing his sister's tendency for kindness; Sam was… you couldn't find a word to describe her quite yet, maybe entrancing could work; and Tara, well, you'd just found out tonight she shared your penchant for horror movies.

That's how, after dinner, you found yourself laying with Tara on her bed as you watched a movie of her choosing.

"You know, I'm glad you decided to come to New York," Tara told you out of the blue, the sound coming from her TV almost covering her voice.

Her room was dimly lit, the only source of light being the TV itself and a small lamp on her desk, you could barely make out her features. "I am too, I'm sure glad I met you guys."

Tara chuckled fondly at that, "Sam seems to like you," she told you quietly, her voice sounding as if she was letting you in on a pretty secret, "she could use a friend, you know."

You caught the hidden words in her soft tone. You weren't blind to how lonely Sam tended to be sometimes. Isolating herself even in a room full of people who cared about her.

Though it stunned you for a brief moment that Tara was asking that of you, you wondered if she saw something you didn't. At this point, you already knew of their story, at least partially; from articles online about the Woodsboro killings, and consequently, from the rumors circling around about Sam. Needless to say, your heart broke for them.

"I'd be happy to be her friend, if she'd have me," you meant it.

The movie extended longer than you predicted and Tara was already dozing off on your shoulder by the time the credits rolled. So you carefully turned off her TV and sneaked yourself out of her bed, your steps as light as a feather touching the floor.

You closed the door to her room with extreme delicacy and only as you turned around, did you notice the absolute darkness of the rest of the apartment.

It looked like everyone had already called it a night.

The only thing illuminating your steps was the soft orange glow coming in through the windows from the street lamps outside. The apartment held an eery silence to it, the clean plates and cutlery you all had used earlier rested on top of the table, there was an occasional sound of water droplets falling from the kitchen sink, and the red numbers of the clock on the coffee table read 12:37 AM.

The darkness and silence were a striking contrast to the commotion from earlier.

You opted for turning on the lights in the kitchen so you could look for your jacket and go home for the night; though after a good five minutes of unsuccessful searching you were almost considering leaving without it. That's when a soft, barely there whimper caught your ears.

It got a cold shiver running up and down your back, momentarily making you imagine yourself in a horror movie.

Until your eyes landed on the bigger couch of the living room and you saw Sam; she was curled up there, fast asleep with her hands under her head and knees tucked up to her chest, looking much smaller than she actually was, just barely being highlighted by the kitchen light.

You couldn't help the swelling of your heart. She was undeniably endearing.

There was the sound of a siren passing by in the distance. You looked out the window by instinct, but you couldn't see where exactly it came from.

When your eyes settled back on Sam, you found her clutching at the cushions under her head, a frown etched unpleasantly on her eyebrows. Her hair was messy, you realized; maybe from tossing and turning too much.

You were genuinely not sure what got into you, it's not like you have enough intimacy to even be seeing her like this. But you crouched down in front of her, one hand coming to rest gently on her shoulder.

Before you could even fully touch her, Sam was already stirring awake. Her body was visibly tense and her eyes a tad too wide and alert for someone who just woke up.

"I'm… sorry," you said quietly, feeling embarrassment crawling up your neck and to your cheeks, "sorry I woke you up."

Sam held herself up with her elbow, her free hand running through her messy hair. She wasn't looking at you, attempting to regulate her unsteady breathing.

You could see it from the way her chest moved up and down quickly. And there you followed a single drop of sweat running down from her neck to her collarbone. The night was far too cold for her to be sweating.

You wanted to reach out, but didn't. "I was just wondering where you put my jacket," you continued when she remained quiet.

Sam felt bare in front of you, somewhat timid. There were goosebumps rising on her skin. She nearly didn't find her voice, "I'll go get it for you."

You waited for her by the front door, shifting on your feet. She came back with your jacket in her hands, clutching tightly onto it so you wouldn't catch the shaking of her fingers. But you did, you also caught onto the hollowness of her eyes and the hair clinging to her damp forehead. You knew it wasn't your place to ask, but Sam looked so alone in the darkness of the apartment, that you feared she might let herself be swallowed by it the moment you leave.

"Are you okay?"

Sam's expression did something complicated, unsure of how to feel. Several beats passed in silence, as if she was considering how to answer you. Eventually, she nodded softly, "I'm alright, just tired from work."

It was a half-truth. You had been there today when a group of teenagers came into the coffee shop, one of them casting accusatory glances at Sam as he whispered — quite loudly — the word 'murderer' to his friends. You weren't able to wave her goodbye after that. She stayed hidden in the back.

Maybe your heart felt something it wasn't telling you yet, because it was hurting, for her. "For what it's worth," the words rolled off your tongue in a soft whisper, "I don't believe them."

Sam's lips parted, her mouth going dry and her doe eyes glinting with a sudden vulnerability. The grip she had around your jacket tightened.

Your smile was bittersweet this time, "the rumors, I don't believe them."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

"I don't think I see you," you spoke on the phone, squinting at the evening sun shining on your eyes as you walked the busy streets of New York.

Last night your father had called you just before he left the police station, asking if maybe you would like to have an afternoon snack with him today; stop by at a popular bakery to catch up on lost time.

You felt an unfamiliar warmth on your chest at the request, agreeing promptly. He was trying to form a connection with you, and honestly, it was something you wanted too. You already lost one parent, you didn't fancy losing the other.

"I see you."

He spoke over the phone.

"Look to your right."

You followed his instructions and sure enough, he was on the other side of the street, his arms up and obnoxiously waving you over so you'd see him.

A chuckle escaped you as you hurriedly crossed the street, tucking your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. You smiled tentatively then, slowly closing the distance between you and him without knowing if you should lean in for a hug or extend your hand for a shake.

Bailey decided for you, he was opening his arms before you even reached him.

The hug was brief but welcomed. He kept one hand on your shoulder when he pulled away, seemingly taking a good look at you as a sincere smile appeared on his expression; "thank you for coming, I know we've never been too close, but I would like us to be."

You reached up to the hand he still had on your shoulder and squeezed his wrist in reassurance, "I would like it too."

That was enough to cut through the awkward bits of tension still lingering between you. Part of you felt like you were fifteen again, giddy for having your father dedicate a whole afternoon for you and you only.

It didn't make the pain of losing your mother go away, but it engulfed it into something more bearable. Something you could get used to.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

It was about an hour after lunch that Sam received a rather urgent call from Tara. The only words she managed to focus on were "asthma attack" and "inhaler at the apartment."

The problem? Sam was basically on the other side of town.

Her first option was Mindy, but the girl wasn't picking up her phone. And then neither was Chad. Her last resort was calling her own apartment in the hopes that Quinn was home and could drive to the university with Tara's inhaler.

The line ringed, and ringed, and ringed. Until…

"Hello?"

The thought about why she recognized your voice so easily flew by. "Y/n?" Sam stopped in her tracks, forcing the other people on the sidewalk to walk around her.

"Sam?"

"What are you-"

"No, I didn't break into your apartment."

Sam heard your chuckle from the other end of the line.

"I stopped by to bring something to Quinn."

"Y/n, I need you to-" Sam took in a deep breath, running a hand through her hair and gripping at the roots of it. She closed her eyes tightly, "Tara is having an asthma attack and she left her inhaler at the apartment, could you ask Quinn to-"

"Sam, calm down."

Your soft voice made Sam realize she was having trouble breathing.

"Breathe, okay? I'll take it to her, I'm less than five minutes away by bike, I'll let you know when I get there."

Sam bit at the inside of her cheek, nodding even though you couldn't see it, "thank you."

Only mere minutes passed by — though they felt much longer than usual — until Sam received a text from you, it read 'hey' and she could see you were still typing.

Sam held onto her breath and only released it once you sent her the next text, which read 'all is good'. Instant relief washed over her and she leaned back on the wall of the random store she was standing in front of.

Her cellphone vibrated again, and this time it was a picture of you and Tara making silly faces while you held her close.

The smile that came to Sam's lips was as big as ever, her heart beating painfully against her ribs as if it was trying to leap from her chest and into the screen of her phone; all so it could reach you.

Sam typed back; 'I owe you one.'

She held back on sending a heart emoji.

It was becoming increasingly harder to deny the way she started feeling about you; how you seemingly occupied a place in her heart no one else could have; or how she hoped to see you walk into the coffee shop every day, because, on the off chance you didn't, something felt out of place, missing.

Maybe it was time for her to do something about it.

And the opportunity presented itself on the very next day.

It was a cloudy Tuesday afternoon, the coffee shop lacking its usual golden rays that came through the window at this time of day. There was a slightly colder breeze in the air, it came through each time a new customer opened the door and it forced Sam to wear her jacket on top of her uniform.

Sam had been anticipating your arrival ever since the clock hit 4 PM, which was the time you usually stopped by. She couldn't help looking up at the door each time she heard the bell above it.

It scared her, to take a chance like this. Trusting people with your heart only opens room for them to break it. She knows it.

But oh you made her want to turn a blind eye to every single risk, and fear, and doubt.

Sam wondered, for a moment, if destiny was playing with her. Because when the clock hit 4:47 PM you walked through the coffee shop's doors and the sky just so happened to have a crack in its clouds, casting a faded glow that bathed you aureate for a moment.

Sam's eyes were unfocused, caught in a daze that was only broken when you were already standing in front of her.

"Good afternoon, Sam," you smiled, your cheeks flushed from the cold wind outside.

"Hi," Sam stumbled out, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she cleared her throat, "the usual?"

"Please," you confirmed, already reaching inside your backpack for your wallet, but Sam's hand on your forearm stopped you.

The touch of her skin on yours felt electric. Sam pulled her hand back quickly, timidly curling her fingers to try and keep the feeling of you a little longer. "This one is on me," her voice wasn't nearly as confident as it needed to be for that line.

You were about to open your mouth to protest, but she beat you to it; "please, let me do this. As a thank you for you helping Tara yesterday."

A sly smile crept into your lips, your eyes roaming over Sam up and down before you spoke; "only if you drink something with me."

Your boldness surprised Sam, in the best of ways. She was burning up inside, her heart working overtime to keep up with her feelings. Despite the cold, she felt suddenly warm.

"I have a break in ten."

When Sam brought your order to your table — the usual table in the far right corner near the biggest window — she sat down in front of you. She carefully placed down your cappuccino and apple pie before closing both her hands around the simple cup of coffee she had for herself.

You took your time with taking a sip from your drink, closing your eyes when the slightly sweet, warm beverage hit your tongue.

Sam followed each movement, from the way your fingers closed around the mug to the way the corner of your lips lifted just the smallest bit after tasting the coffee she made — for a moment you were all she could see. Though she shook herself off of it pretty quickly, realizing how it might be creepy. Sam took a generous drink of her coffee as well.

"Do you like it?" Came the sudden sweetness of your voice, "working at a coffee shop?"

A faint smell of burnt bread reached Sam's nose, it was probably Enrique forgetting about the oven again. She could hear loud chatter happening at the entrance of the coffee shop, it was probably the five students who usually stopped by at this time of day. Sam was hesitating. Between apartment visits because of Quinn and everyday meet-ups for her to make you coffee, Sam didn't plan for herself coming this far with you.

"Could be worse," were the words that eventually escaped her mouth, "beats the bowling alley."

You chuckled, a lovely sound as you sheepishly glanced down, your thumb tracing the edge of your mug. Sam wanted to pull her cell phone out and trap this moment in time; it felt precious enough to do so.

"I definitely prefer coming to coffee shops instead of bowling alleys," you smirked.

Sam somewhat mimicked your smile, "are you liking New York?"

You hummed, choosing to take a bite of your pie before answering, "all things considered, I am. It's a lot of getting used to," you had a faraway gaze out the window then, leaning your chin on your hand, "meeting a whole new side of my family is… strange. But we're getting along surprisingly well, I've been going out with my father at least once a week, Ethan is more distant but still nice whenever we meet, and, well, I've been visiting Quinn quite regularly, as you know."

Sam took in each of your words, softly nodding along, "it's good one of us is feeling at home, sort of." She gulped, mulling over her next words, "you know you're welcome at the apartment whenever. Tara adores you… everyone does."

If you caught Sam's 'I adore you' you didn't comment on it. Instead, you asked; "how are you settling in? Tara mentioned you guys moved in only a few weeks before I did."

That had Sam holding back a sigh. She leaned back on her side of the booth, "feels like all the shit that happened in Woodsboro followed us all the way here."

Some days were better than others. Some days the weight on her shoulders felt more bearable and the people around her weren't as menacing with their baseless accusations. Some days were worse.

"I'm sorry about everything that's been going on the internet about you," you said.

Sam met your eyes and found there a gentleness no one had ever looked at her with.

"You don't deserve it, Sam."

Being with you was as easy as breathing. For a fleeting moment inside the walls of the coffee shop, there were no rumors crucifying Sam for something she didn't do; there were no bad memories taking her sleep at night; there were no permanent scars marking her skin — there was only Samantha, the girl who had almost forgotten what it felt like to just worry about which words to say next to impress the girl she developed feelings for.

And if she went to bed that night with the ghost of a smile on her lips because you kissed her cheek goodbye earlier, that was nobody's business but hers.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

"Guys, what do you say we order pizza for tonight?" Sam threw the idea into the night.

It was nearing 7 PM and it was a Saturday, meaning it was the unofficial girl's night of the week. Sam, Mindy, Anika, Tara, and Quinn sat together in the living room of Sam's apartment watching a random action movie. Dinner time was nearing and none of them really fancied cooking tonight.

"I think it's a good idea," Mindy agreed, leaning back on the couch and pulling Anika with her, "do you think one is enough for the five of us?"

"Six," Sam spoke without looking up from her phone, already searching for the pizza place's number, "I invited Y/n over."

Save for the movie playing in the background, there was a sudden silence in the living room. It stretched on until Sam found the number and looked up to see everyone staring at her.

A frown slowly came to her eyebrows and she chuckled awkwardly, fidgeting with her phone, "what?"

"You invited her?" Quinn started.

"You two have been growing quite close," Mindy added, an all-too-knowing grin on her lips.

Tara had her lips hung open, being the last one to catch up on her sister's painfully obvious crush.

"We're… friends, she's nice," Sam shrugged, feeling herself grow self-conscious with the attention and involuntarily curling in on herself a little. She got up from the couch then, deciding to go make the call to order the pizza outside in the hallway as she figured she wouldn't have much peace inside right now.

She put on her house slippers and walked to the front door, hearing Mindy shout; "I've heard that before," right as she closed the door behind her.

Sam found herself slowly roaming to the lobby as she spoke on the phone, a cold air came from the entrance doors of her apartment building as she spoke on the phone, making her hug herself to preserve the warmth.

The pizza would be arriving in about thirty minutes, and just before Sam turned around to walk back inside to the coziness of her apartment, her cell phone dinged with a message from you letting her know you were here.

Sam saw herself smiling at the screen of her phone, at the small heart emoji you added beside the text.

The main doors of the entrance hall hinged as you walked in, and the first thing Sam noticed was that you were quite underdressed for the weather outside; only a thin jacket kept your body warm, your hair was all tousled from the wind and you had your hands buried in the pockets of your sweatpants. Still, you smiled brightly when you spotted Sam coming towards you.

"Aren't you cold?" Sam chuckled as she met you in the middle, coming to a stop a little closer to you than she should. Her eyes involuntarily roamed up and down your body, always engraving the image of you in her mind as if it was the first and last time she'd be seeing you; even if she has known you for nearly two months now.

"You bet I'm cold," without much of a warning, you brought one hand up and cupped Sam's cheek; the coldness of your skin contrasted with the warmth of hers.

Sam shivered from head to toe, and it wasn't because of the coldness of your fingers, for she could feel her cheeks warming up even more.

Unable to hold your gaze as she did so, Sam took hold of your freezing hand, "come on, let's get you warmed up. I ordered pizza."

You followed her willingly, nuzzling against her shoulder as you walked.

You're both not sure when this newfound intimacy happened. But you weren't complaining. Your heart was so full of Sam that you could hardly call it your own anymore. And Sam doesn't know what happiness means if it isn't written with the letters of your name.

Though it wasn't until a whole week later, that you did something about it.

This Friday was a rainy one, the skies had grey clouds looming over everyone on the streets as heavy raindrops fell steadily. Water splashed around people's shoes as they walked, holding their coats close to their bodies and their umbrellas above their heads.

Sam didn't have an umbrella. She'd given hers to Tara this morning because technically she wouldn't need it, she'd catch a ride with one of the nicer coworkers at the coffee shop when it was time to leave.

Sam was walking in the rain.

She never made it to 7 PM, which was usually the time she'd get off work. Her boss had dismissed her much earlier today; 'it doesn't look good to have a barista covered in coffee' was what he'd said.

Now, the huge coffee stain on her shirt was barely there, being replaced by the water falling from the sky. The pouring rain had already soaked through Sam's clothing; it trickled down her chin and made her hair stuck to her forehead. It was cold, she was shaking, and her fingers were becoming numb.

Today had been one of those unfortunate days. It was a group of teenagers, Sam can't exactly remember what they looked like; she had been the one to bring their orders to the table, and when their eyes met hers she could instantly see the hatred there. Various false accusations left their lips as one of them 'accidentally' spilled their coffee all over Sam. Today wasn't a good day.

Sam didn't know where she was going to, she was almost sure she was walking in the complete opposite direction of her apartment. She didn't stop, keeping her head low in hopes the rain would completely engulf her being.

"Sam?" The call of her name sounded like a hallucination at first. Too sweet, and too far away to be real.

"Sam!" Now it was closer, clearer between the heavy raindrops hitting the pavement.

It made Sam look up, one hand brushing over her eyes to clean the rain stuck to her lashes. Instantly, she forgot how to breathe.

You were coming towards her, one hand holding your coat and the other holding a faded pink umbrella above your head. You looked distressed, there was a frown on your eyebrows that Sam wanted to smooth away with her fingers.

Between the smell of coffee on her shirt and the rain on her skin, Sam had forgotten this was the time you usually came to the coffee shop.

Sam was suddenly shielded from the falling rain. You had to stay close so your umbrella would cover both of you. "Sam…" Your tone was sorrowful as your evident worry escaped you, "what are you doing out here like this? What happened?" You looked her up and down, taking in her purplish fingertips, her soaked clothes and hair, and the barely there coffee stain of her shirt.

The image of you in front of Sam started to blur over; she opened her lips to speak, tasting the raindrops there, yet the words were clogged up on the lump in her throat. A feeling of shame was crawling inside her guts, piercing through her heart for having you see her like this. Sam avoided your eyes, focusing on her boots instead.

Your sneakers inched closer and Sam felt your gentle fingers pushing away strands of her wet hair; the softness of your touch amidst all the harshness she was used to nearly made her crumble.

"Did someone do this to you?" You asked even softer.

Another beat of silence, and then; "I don't know why they hate me so much." Was all Sam told you, her voice nothing but a whisper that broke in the middle.

In the same heartbeat, with the hand that wasn't holding your umbrella, you took hold of Sam's waist, pulling her body close to yours in a warm embrace.

Sam clung to you as if you'd vanish into thin air any minute. Both her arms instantly came around your shoulders in a close-knit grip as she bunched the fabric of your coat between her fingers.

You adjusted your hold around her waist, mimicking the same strength she held you with. Part of you knew she needed to feel that kind of reassuring pressure, shielding her away from reality.

Her body was worryingly cold, the wetness of her clothes was seeping into your own but you couldn't find it in yourself to mind. Because Sam buried her head into the crook of your neck and you could feel steady wet drops falling into your skin, and you knew they weren't from the rain.

Sam's sobs were muffled against you. And as her body trembled in your hold, your heart shattered.

"Let me take you home," you whispered, your lips brushing the skin of her shoulder until you placed a kiss there.

Sam's grip on you tightened, bringing your bodies closer together if that was even possible. "Okay."

And you did take her home. Sam only didn't imagine that when you said home, you meant your apartment, not hers.

To say your place was better than Sam's would be an understatement. Your apartment wasn't overly luxurious, but it was evident that it was expensive.

Admittedly, Sam felt out of place. Not necessarily in a bad way; only in the way that you were clearly much better off in life than she was, and it made her feel a little self-conscious to think she'd been fantasizing about a chance with you, when, admittedly, you could do better.

You let go of your umbrella but kept holding onto Sam's hand, leading her to your bedroom, "come on, let's get you some dry clothes."

Your bedroom was the most 'you' room in the house. There was a double bed in the middle, a dresser, a desk with a computer and a whole lot of other things on top — books, a collection of pens, a couple of sketchbooks, small fantasy figures such as soldiers on horses and dragons — a mirror just beside the dresser, a bookshelf, and several pictures and fairy lights stuck to the walls. Everywhere Sam looked, there was a bit of you.

She hovered in the middle of it all, shaking from head to toe because of how cold her body was, and hyper-aware of the water still dripping from her soaked clothes and into the wooden floor.

You rummaged through your dresser until you found a comfy pair of purple sweatpants and a hoodie of the same color. You handed them to Sam, "the bathroom is just down the hall, feel free to take a shower and warm yourself up okay? I'll be in the kitchen."

Sam gulped down the lump still stuck in her throat, nodding along with your words, "thank you, you didn't have to do all this," her voice still held that same rawness to it, though the corner of her lips quirked up.

You let out a breathy chuckle, tilting your head to the side as if she just spoke a foreign language. "Yeah I did, that's what people do when they care about each other."

Under the warm orange glow of the fairy lights of your bedroom, Sam could count the specks of color in your eyes. She could drown in the ocean that was you and everything you made her feel.

Sometimes, you look at each other as if you're about to kiss.

Sam wondered if it was the same for you when she caught your eyes drifting to her lips. Before she could figure it out, you were sheepishly avoiding her eyes and walking off to the kitchen.

When Sam walked out of the bathroom, her skin now warm and her hair with the smell of your shampoo, you had just finished making two mugs of hot chocolate.

You heard her bare feet approaching you, felt her lingering gaze on your back. You could tell Sam wasn't allowing herself to be completely comfortable here yet. You hoped to change that.

Turning around, you were met with the endearing sight of Sam in your clothes, her hair still damp and cheeks now flushed from the hot water of the shower. She looked like your favorite dream.

You walked up to her, handing her one of the mugs, "now it's my turn to serve you," you winked.

Sam closed both hands around the mug, an inevitable chuckle escaping her.

You leaned back on the counter of your kitchen, hearing the rain that still poured outside hitting the windows. "Feeling better?"

Before answering, Sam took a sip of her hot chocolate, humming at the sweetness and warmth of it. "Much better."

"You can stay as long as you'd like," you told her, because you knew she needed to hear it.

Sam's thumb traced the rim of her mug. You could see her lips pulling thin, feel her uneasiness.

"I would like you to stay, Sam."

Thunder started rumbling in the distance as the rain picked up even more. Sam would be stuck with you for a while; maybe you should make the most of having her all to yourself.

You put down your mug and pushed yourself away from the kitchen counter. Sam could be fragile sometimes, you realized; there was a part of her that always remained guarded, waiting for the next blow to come. Yet you could almost feel the desperate calls of her lonely heart.

When you took a step closer to her, Sam didn't take one away from you, and it was all the confirmation you needed. She had a white-knuckled grip on her mug, though it relaxed immediately when your hand enveloped hers and you took the mug, putting it aside on the counter.

Sam was holding herself as stiff as a corpse; if you were anyone else, she would have taken her chance already, but you were you, and the fear that she might fuck it up spoke louder. Her eyes followed each of your movements though, her pupils blown wide and reflecting the vulnerability of a heart that started beating for you, for you, for you.

Both your hands eventually reached up to her cheeks, your fingers tracing her jaw and your thumbs brushing the skin beneath her eyes.

Inevitably, Sam melted in your hold, a breath leaving her lips as she closed her eyes for a beat. No one ever held her as if she was something precious. You always did.

First, your lips met her forehead in a kiss that felt like a promise. Then, your nose brushed hers when you leaned in; your breaths mingling as your hands found the back of her neck to pull her in.

You were gentle, so much so that Sam hardly felt your lips. You guided her into a chaste kiss, just a touch of your soft lips that fitted perfectly with hers. So perfectly, she'd dare say you were made just for her.

Small as it was, the gesture of affection got Sam grasping at your waist; her hands holding onto you with the same desperation as before. As if happiness, for her, was limited.

Sam didn't dare open her eyes when you pulled back. It was foolish, but she wanted to utter those three words just for the fact that you didn't go far, choosing to keep your forehead leaning against hers.

"Are you sure?" The words stumbled out of Sam's lips in an unsteady whisper as she took to memory what it felt like to have you this close.

You pulled away and she felt like crying.

It was only enough so you could look into her eyes, and there you saw everything she didn't want you to see. In those dark doe eyes that shone with the dim lights of your kitchen; you saw her fear, her loneliness; you saw the way she thought of herself as a person who doesn't deserve to be taken out of the rain, but who longs for someone to do so anyway.

"More than I've ever been in my life," you whispered back, pulling her in before you even finished speaking. You clashed your lips together, not holding back this time, because if she didn't believe your words, she would believe your touch; she would believe the way your hands tangled in her hair and how your tongue brushed over her bottom lip, tasting the lingering sweetness of hot chocolate there.

Yet, between each breathless kiss, you'd mumble, "I promise."

And Sam would hold you more firmly, her arms encircling your waist as she traced a path down your neck with her lips, confessions rolling off her tongue.

You had her at your mercy; she was yours. But you were hers too.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

It's been fifteen minutes already. Fifteen minutes of Sam glaring at her phone as if it would relent and type the message for her.

"Sammy, this is getting sad," Mindy popped a popcorn in her mouth, side-eyeing Sam's figure; who was huddled in a blanket on the couch beside hers, "just ask her already."

"Yeah, I will," Sam groaned, hugging her blanket closer to her chest, "just… finding the right words."

"The words are: 'do you want to go on a date with me? Yes or no?' Simple." A popcorn flew in Sam's direction as Mindy explained, "stop making a big deal of it, it's not like you guys never went out together anyway."

Sam pursed her lips, staring at the little picture of you in her contacts. It's true, you've met for outings multiple times already; but there was something more now, an incessant swarm of butterflies in her stomach whenever Sam thought of you.

"It's different," she said quietly, "I don't wanna mess it up." Her vulnerability dripped from each syllable.

Mindy softened at that, forgetting about the movie playing on the TV and properly turning to look at her friend; "you won't mess it up, Sam. She likes you, everyone can see it."

It felt nice to hear the words out loud, it made them all the more real — as if your make-out session from a few days ago wasn't enough. Sam could feel her cheeks growing warmer by the minute as she finally typed her message and hit send before the small bit of courage went away.

Mindy had been right, after all.

That night, Sam took you out for dinner and a movie; classic, but she learned that you loved the classics. Especially when you pressed your lips to hers again before saying goodbye, in a kiss that Sam would be happy to live in forever.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

The stairs that led up to her apartment weren't the most comfortable seat, but the empty hallways provided much-needed peace.

Sam buried her head in her hands, clawing at the roots of her hair. Her shirt was still damp, the smell becoming annoying. She could feel the back of her eyes stinging but she gulped back the feeling.

"You know you don't always have to wait for me down here."

It was almost magical, how your voice sent a wave of easiness through Sam's body. It was almost as if you carefully reached inside her chest and took away the burden there.

You were walking up to her, a smirk on your lips and a backpack hanging from your shoulder, "I know the way to your apartment."

Sam mimicked your smile, getting up with more haste than usual and meeting you halfway in the empty hallway. She didn't give you much of a warning before bringing you into a searing kiss, her hands cupped your cheeks and she had your bottom lip trapped between hers; chasing the feeling only you could give her.

A gasp escaped you when she collided with you. Your giggles got muffled by her lips and you took hold of her waist to steady yourself.

It's been four months since Sam started calling you hers. Four months since she's been able to gloat because you're her girlfriend. Four months in which she's been the happiest she's ever been in her life.

"I missed you," she spoke against your lips.

You kissed the words, frowning playfully, "you saw me this afternoon."

"Exactly," Sam's smile stretched further, "too long," and then she was leaning in again, and again, and again.

Sam could be intense sometimes, but you knew how to recognize when she was doing it for fun, or to forget about something else.

You took hold of one of her hands then, breaking the kiss she had you trapped in so you could place one to her knuckles, "is that cherry coke I smell on you?"

"Maybe," she dragged the word, her fingers intertwining with yours.

"Are you making a habit of having people throw drinks at you?" You raised an eyebrow at her before squeezing her hand reassuringly, "what happened?"

Sam let out a halfhearted groan, shrugging her shoulders as she avoided your eyes, "just some conspiracy psychos… and Tara is pissed at me."

"Did you guys have another fight?" You asked sympathetically.

"She was at this party and I tased a guy who was trying to take advantage of her, and now she's mad at me," Sam distracted herself by playing with your fingers as she spoke, "keeps telling me I should let her go."

In your four months with Sam, you learned how protective she could be of those she cares about, especially after what happened in Woodsboro. You learned that because you were now on that list too. You'd lost count of how many guys she threatened because of you already, each time you went out for drinks together and a strange dude decided to try his luck with you Sam would pull out her taser and aim it right where it hurts most.

In truth, you understood both sides. Yes, Sam could be overprotective sometimes; but she had her reasons.

"Family can be complicated, I would know," you pushed back strands of Sam's dark hair, never having enough of how she leaned into your touch, "but Tara will come around soon."

You felt the shape of Sam's smile on your palm right before she placed a kiss there. Part of you lived only for these sweet, precious moments.

"Hey guys," Chad's voice suddenly broke your peaceful bubble. You and Sam looked up to see him on the stairs, "come up here, quick."

Sam walked into her apartment holding onto your hand, and her grip only tightened when she saw what everyone was watching on the TV.

A student from Blackmore University had just been murdered, Mindy recognized him from their film studies class.

Tension lay heavy in the room, but especially, it radiated off Sam; you could feel it in the tremble of her hold on your hand when the reporter spoke about the several Ghostface costumes left at the scene of the crime.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Sam’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @alexkolax

[prismaticpichu]

*clears throat* Sephiroth is on trial in an ace attorney ass courtroom, how do things go?

ANON I AM HUGGING YOU SO FUCKING HARD YOU HAVE NO IDEA 🤣❤️💖 YOU GET IT LOL!!

~

Judge: *pounds gavel thrice* Court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Sephiroth…

Judge: …!

Judge: Hmm. That is quite bizarre…

Edgeworth: Is something wrong, your honor?

Judge: Ah, yes, well… Our defendant doesn’t appear to have a last name.

*a heavy silence looms in the courtroom*

Edgeworth: …Our defendant has a more than complex background in deference to familial ties, your honor. He doesn’t currently have a legally documented surname.

Edgeworth: Are you serious? We haven’t even commenced the trial yet!

Phoenix: *pounding hands on desk* Maybe so, Edgeworth. But do you really think we can begin when we can’t even have the foundation of such basic information?

Edgeworth: …?! What are you babbling about?

Phoenix: *brandishing a document* I’m talking about, of course, the nature of my client’s name!

Edgeworth: …?!?!?!

Phoenix: You stated just moments before that, quote, ‘He doesn’t currently have a legally documented surname.’”

Edgeworth: Correct! The likes of which is a documented fact.

Phoenix: …*placing his hands on his hips as he smirks* Is that so, Edgeworth? Because if that truly WAS the case… then what is the document I have HERE!

Edgeworth: …?!?!?

Phoenix: *smirking still* I thought you might say that. Well… let me enlighten you all about a little something: just earlier, I stopped by the ShinRa labs in order to gather as much information about my client as possible. While there, I happened to stumble upon something very interesting. Something that, frankly… *his smirk deepens* Will shoot your little ‘fact’ right down where it stands.

Edgeworth: What is the meaning of this…?! WRIGHT.

Judge: Umm… gentlemen, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but… we have a trial to—

Phoenix: *brandishing the papers once more* Ladies and gentlemen… I would like to correctly introduce the name of my client…:

Phoenix: Mr Sephiroth Crescent, the surname of his mother——Lucrecia…!

Phoenix: …

Edgeworth: …

Judge: …

.

.

.

Sephiroth: …I—I believe you are mistaken, Mr Wright; my mother’s name is—

Phoenix: Jenova?

Sephiroth: …?!

Phoenix: I read all through the files, Sephiroth. All the experiments. And I’m afraid, as much as it hurts to say… that your father, Professor Hojo, has seemed to have lied to you since the very beginning.

Sephiroth: …

Phoenix: (poor guy looks so wounded…) *ahem*—

Edgeworth: Wright! I find this information completely irrelevant to the murder at—

Phoenix: Like I was saying… Hojo, your father figure, he seemed to have created a false identity of your mother… And manipulated you in order to conceal the real truth of your identity.

Sephiroth: My… identity?

Phoenix: *nodding* Yes. Lucrecia, you see… was the name of your mother. Your real mother. Your real mother who, in spite of everything… loved you to pieces, Sephiroth. Loved you so much that on the hospital bed she just wanted to hold you, just to tell you she-

Edgeworth: …Congratulations, Wright.

Phoenix: …What?

Edgeworth: Do you SEE your client right now…?!

Phoenix: …

Phoenix: …!

*Sephiroth, head buried into the defendant’s stand, his entire body trembling with the stifled weight of tears*

Sephiroth: Mother… mother… m… o…th..er mom… I love you too…

Phoenix: …

Edgeworth: …

Judge: …

.

.

.

Judge: Well…

Judge: This poor man certainly doesn’t look like a murderer to me

[familyagrestefanblog]

Throwing a disclaimer out because I think it's time I say it again just to be sure:

Me having fallen so much out of love with Marinette by now isn't because I hate that her side of the conflicts was given more weight than Adrien's or that I "don't understand that she's the main character"

My problem lies in HYPOCRISY. Marinette's writing ever since season 4 has been going out of its way to be as hypocritical as possible in basically every aspect of the story, but especially the love square, and then it was sold as "justified and totally morally sound feminism" just because it's a girl doing it.

The amount of harmful messages Maribug was retooled into teaching as "empowerment" without any genuine accountability on her part - beside some vagueness sometimes that stops meaning anything the next moment it actually matters - are insane and inherently on child abuse victims expense to the point where I don't actually trust alot of Marinette stans opinions on child abuse and leadership anymore which is the worst thing Marinette's character could have been made to cause.

I hate that sexist HYPOCRISY was declared EMPOWERING as long as the girl benefits from it. I stand under no obligation to support a harmfully hypocritical main character of a female empowerment kids cartoon, and if you think I do, learn what actual feminism is.

I repeat: my problem lies in the deeply interwoven and glorified hypocrisy

NOT in the fact that Marinette's side of the narrative was covered at all.

I was and AM perfectly fine and supportive of that, but what I don't support is the show ever since season 4 hardcore retooling the narrative into ONLY Marinette's side and benefit mattering and in some of the worst and most hypocritical ways possible to the point where Marinette never even made a single effort in finding Hawkmoth to actually DO HER JOB and take a fraction of interest in the man underneath his mask because that wouldn't have been about HERSELF.

Years ago, 2x01 "The collector" promised me a main character who will actually show initiative to end the war in more regards than herself first and foremost becoming the Queen of the world. I signed up for Marinette as main character who will actually SAVE Gabriel's victims with her compassion and drive to help people

I didn't get that beyond the most surface level way possible because Marinette and the narrative were written to prioritizing her being entirely in control of everything, girlbossing her love interest into being her submissive care taker for which she hardly took any accountability for, and looking cool hitting stuff including her love interest and the remains of her Villain's wife who never wanted this, but Marinette threw a fucking LIFT on her body to get a strategic advantage over Gabriel by taking advantage of Gabriel's remaining humanity and love for the very woman at the core of all this.

Emilie, who was fridged and silenced beyond anything resembling to feminism, but it HAD to happen because Emilie's story isn't about Marinette and the narrative had to make sure Marinette will be celebrated "as such a cool girlboss!" for throwing a fucking LIFT on the remains of the villain's loved one while she simultaneously failed Emilie's son - Marinette's own "partner" - so MUCH as partner and leader that he had literally no way to possibly make it out of this partnership because Marinette teached Chat Noir that she's all that matters, he gets no support, help, resources, or a voice when it isn't to her benefit.

When the chips are down, he has to die quietly and give up his ring because Ladybug couldn't be asked to look beyond her personal experience, benefit and comfort in this "partnership" while simultaneously needing to be taken care of, as good as worshipped, and celebrated by him like a mind reader for EVERYTHING because she wasn't "ill-intentioned"

Which she is explicitly written to prioritize people understanding that about her than actually working on herself in ways that truly matter.

I once signed up for Marinette being the main hero and savior of Paris and Gabriel's victims, but all I got is glorified hypocrisy thats sold as "empowerment" and a worshipped girlboss main heroine who postponed doing her job so fucking much that the main villain shaped the entire in-universe world already BEFORE he won and made his wish, as well as several characters being damned and irreversibly negatively affected by his power and influence over and on them by the time Marinette was finally spoon-feed into being able to face Hawkmoth at literally 11:59 pm.

But hey, I suppose all that mattered was Marinette BENEFITTING from that to sweep her own big flaws under the rug, as well as her looking cool hitting stuff in different super hero suits to she can become the Queen of the world.

I would apologize for having thought that Marinette's hero's journey was about more than that, but that's literally nothing I have to apologize for.