#this got a bit more serious that i was expecting

[harrywavycurly]

Worth the Fight Part 2: City of Love

Masterlist: Here

CW: Mentions of pregnancy, language, bit of light arguing, brief details of the hook up in the bathroom, miscommunication and a touch of panic attack symptoms mentioned.

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden

A/N: I know it’s not Thursday but I just wanted to get this up because this week is a busy one for me! Hope yall enjoy it!!✨

Summary: Harry gets the confirmation he needs but wasn’t really expecting while you try to be as nice as possible to him, oh and Harry meets your cat! So enjoy getting a little look at the way your personalities work/clash together✨

“So uh-you’re actually pregnant.” Harry says with a heavy sigh as he watches you dig around in your purse for your car keys. You pause your search so you can look up at him just in time to see him run a hand over his face. “I just really thought maybe your tests were wrong? Like maybe you got a bad batch or something and-”

“A bad batch? Harry I took four different kinds of tests.”

“Well yeah but still I just don’t know how this happened?”

“Did your parents not have the talk with you about how babies are made? Surely you know how this happened.” Harry ignores your snippy remark as you resume your search for your keys as he presses the down button for the elevator.

The two of you just got done visiting with your doctor who confirmed you are in fact pregnant and suggested a well known obstetrician and gynecologist, Dr. Andrews that could take over and do the paternity test once you call and set up an initial appointment with his office and see exactly how far along you are. You weren’t shocked by the news, but Harry on the other hand sat there with his mouth hung open as if he didn’t expect it at all and you aren’t sure why considering you told him how many tests you took and how they all said pregnant in different ways. You know he had to be reminded of how the two of you met, seeing as he meets so many people and all but you just assumed that once he had his moment of clarity and remembered meeting you that the memory of the rest of the evening would also begin to not be as fuzzy for him but he’s proving that theory very wrong with every confused glance and silly question he tosses your way.

“I thought we were careful?” He questions once the elevator doors open up allowing the two of you to step inside, you let out a chuckle as he moves to stand next to you crossing his arms over his chest while he shoots you a glare. “Are you giggling? What’s so funny about this?” You just shake your head as you finally feel your keys on the bottom of your purse.

“Oh you-you’re being serious?” You ask as you look over at him with a raised brow making him nod his head in response. “I wasn’t aware that the pull out method was really even considered a form of being careful?” Harry’s eyes go wide as his arms fall to his sides and that’s how you figure out he really is struggling to put the pieces together of what exactly happened in that bathroom so you decide to give him just one more detail to help him understand how the two of you really ended up in this situation.

“And by the way in order for that method to work you actually have to pull out.” You add casually as you reach over and press the button for the lobby while Harry’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he looks down at the floor in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

“So are you going to want to be at all the appointments?” You ask a few minutes later as the two of you enter the lobby of the medical building your doctor’s office is in. Harry looks around and brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck while you adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder as you wait for him to answer.

“I don’t know? I just-this is a lot.” He finally replies a few moments later making you purse your lips and slowly nod your head before you turn and head for the front entrance of the building. Harry doesn’t know what to do but he knows the two of you have things to discuss so he just quickly rushes to catch up to you and when he finds you heading for a small beat up looking car that’s parked in a very obvious no parking zone his eyebrows pinch together while his hand reaches out to grab your elbow causing you to stop walking and look at him over your shoulder.

“Look I’ll tell you how my next appointment goes and when they can do the paternity test-”

“Is this your car?” Harry asks interrupting your little rant, you watch his eyes go from your face to the car directly behind you.

“Yes. She’s very reliable even though she looks a bit rough.” You say in your car’s defense as you take a step away from him making his hand fall from its hold on your elbow as he stares at you in almost disbelief as you take your car key and unlock the passenger side door and toss your purse inside before closing it so you can turn and face Harry with your arms loosely crossed over your chest.

“This can’t be safe for you to be driving around in.” You roll your eyes at his statement as he takes a step to the side so he can give your car a proper once over and when he sees a dent on the front bumper he raises an eyebrow while pointing at it. “You run into things a lot?” He asks as he looks over at you from where he’s now stood near the front of your car.

“Leave Melanie alone okay she’s nice and gets me where I need to go.” You snap at him as you turn and place a hand on top of your car so you can give it a little pat. “I’ve had her since I was seventeen so yeah she’s got a few bumps-”

“Melanie? You named your car? Have you really had this thing since you were seventeen?”

“Yes Melanie just fits her and yeah Harry I’ve had this thing since I was seventeen because most people keep their cars for a while since we can’t all have a driver to take us places or have a fancy collection of cars we don’t use.” Harry doesn’t say anything in response so after a few moments of silence you take that as a sign the conversation is over so you just turn to round the front of the car and get into the driver’s seat.

“You’re in a no parking zone you know that right?” Harry says breaking the silence just as you open your door, you look at the sign that’s posted on the sidewalk right above where you’re parked and just shrug making Harry let out a huff as he rolls his eyes.

“I was in a hurry.”

“You mean you were running late?”

“No I mean I was in a hurry.”

“Are you late to a lot of things? Is that something I should get used to?”

“I don’t know Harry do you want to get used to me?”

“What? That’s not-not what I meant I just want to know if you’re late a lot?”

“I wasn’t late today was I?”

“No but clearly you were worried about it since you were rushing enough to just park in a no parking zone-what if your car would’ve gotten towed? What would you have done?” While he’s speaking you take the time to look him over and that’s when you notice it, his hands are clenching and unclenching fists by his sides and his cheeks are slightly flushed and his eyes are a bit wide, he looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack of some sort and him asking you these pointless questions is his attempt at holding it off.

You ignore his eyes that dart to various parts of your face and upper half of your body as if his mind can’t decide where it wants to focus as you close the driver’s side door with a bit of force making sure it stays closed and round the front of your car so you’re standing in front of him. You wonder for a moment as you stare at him if it’s your hormones already kicking in that makes you feel the need to make him feel better or if it’s just Harry who has this extremely annoying power to drive you to the brink of wanting to smack him a few time with your purse and leave him standing on the sidewalk alone and confused to all of a sudden switching it up to were you’re wanting to make sure he’s okay when he shows you any signs of distress. He watches your hands as they reach out and grab his and when you fill the gaps between his fingers with your own and give his hands a nice solid squeeze you watch his chest fall as he lets out a deep breath and his shoulders slump a bit. You look him in his eyes and give him a small smile while still giving his hands little reassuring squeezes.

“Would you like to come over? Have some tea?” Your question not only shocks Harry but you as well, not sure what came over you to even let the words slip out of your mouth, surely it’s just the hormones. Harry chews on his bottom lip for a moment before he looks down at his watch on his right wrist, checking the time before he looks back up at you.

“Uh sure yeah-yeah I can come over for a bit.” He answers with a nod. You just let go of his hands and reach over for the passenger side door handle so you can open it for him. Harry quickly looks at you with worried eyes and begins shaking his head and backing away from you while trying to reach into the front pocket of his jeans for his phone.

“Oh no I’ll just call my-”

“Harry.” You say with a sigh as you continue to hold the door open for him, he stops fumbling for his phone and stares at you making you roll your eyes as you gesture to the passenger seat with a tilt of your head.

“Just get in the car.” With that Harry just lets out a groan as he reluctantly takes a step towards the open door and bends down so he can pick up your purse off the seat. You bite back a laugh as you watch him have to duck down a bit to get into your car and he makes a show of buckling himself in nice and tightly once he’s sat in the seat. You give him a smile as he places your purse in his lap just as you close the door for him so you can go and get into the driver’s seat and take the two of you to your apartment.

“Do you have a cat?” You look at Harry over your shoulder from where you’re making yourself a cup of herbal tea in the kitchen and smile when you see him messing with a random stuffed mouse that somehow ended up on your table.

As if on queue Harry looks down as he feels something rub against his shin and you see a small smile tug at the corners of his lips when he sees your orange cat greeting him with a few purrs but it’s when you see him rub his head against Harry’s ankles that you feel obligated to warn him about something.

“Oh but watch out he might-” your words get cut off by a tiny squeal from Harry as he takes a step towards you with his eyes set in a glare aimed at the orange cat that’s decided to now head into the living room since Harry didn’t allow him to fully chomp down on his ankle like he wanted.

“He just bit me.” Harry states as he watches your cat jump onto your sofa and quickly flop down into a comfortable laying position. “He bit my ankle.” He explains while turning to now give you his full attention making you just shrug as you reach for the honey to add to your mug.

“Yeah well his name is Paris so he kinda has a thing for ankles.” Harry stares at the side of your face as you go about making your tea while explaining why your cat just bit his ankle and he rolls his eyes at how casual you are about it, but that’s something Harry is learning about you, you don’t seem to take a lot of things that seriously.

“What’s the city of love have to do with ankles?” He asks as you give the liquid in your mug a nice stir, he watches the way his question makes your brows pinch together and when you turn to look at him he sees your face looks almost concerned and he can’t imagine why considering the two of you are just talking about your cat.

“He’s named after Paris as in the one who killed Achilles.” When Harry just raises an eyebrow in response to your explanation you let out a long sigh as you pick up your mug. “Have you heard of Troy?”

“The Brad Pitt movie?” You have to fight off the urge to reach over and flick him in the ear at his answer but you just shake your head and walk past him and into your living room.

“No not the Brad Pitt movie I mean the actual story of Troy? With Achilles and Hector? The Trojan horse and all that?” Harry follows you into the living room and makes a mindful choice not to sit on the couch with the orange cat that just tried to make a meal out of his ankle, opting for the loveseat that’s placed across from the couch with a little coffee table in between the two pieces of furniture.

“Hector and the little horse thing are in the Brad Pitt movie though.” Harry explains as you get comfortable on the couch making Paris lift his head and look around to see who has come into the room and disturbed his peace.

“Little horse thing? Are you-you know what it’s not important.” You take a sip of your tea to help calm yourself down before placing it on the coffee table, Harry takes the opportunity to glance down and he quirks an eyebrow when he sees the name of the tea on the little tag hanging out of the mug.

“Paris shot Achilles in the ankle so that’s why I named him Paris…because he attacks the ankles of people he doesn’t like.” You smile as the orange cat stretches out next to you placing a paw on your thigh while Harry just lets out a scoff at the idea of your cat not liking him.

“You drink peppermint tea with honey? That’s criminal. And also there’s no way he doesn’t like me considering he just met me.” You laugh as you reach over and run your hand over Paris’s back making him purr while still keeping his eyes closed.

“Oh and it’s so hard to imagine someone not liking you after just meeting you?”

“Well yeah because he doesn’t know me so how can he not like me?”

“He knows enough to want to bite your ankle the first chance he got.”

“That’s because you’ve probably poisoned him against me.” You laugh and roll your eyes as Harry leans over and grabs your mug of tea off the table and brings it to his lips so he can taste it. “And that’s disgusting by the way.” He states with a face of disgust making you glare at him as you lean over and grab the mug from his hand before he can set it back down on the table.

“And I remember you being taller.” You mumble while Harry just glares at you from his spot on the loveseat. “What? You insulted my tea so I’m allowed to insult your-”

“I can’t really do anything about my height but you can and absolutely should fix the way you make tea because no one should be mixing honey with peppermint.” He argues as he watches you with a narrowed glare as you take a sip of your tea, you watch as he leans forward and rests his forearms on his knees and clasps his hands together.

“Is this how you always act when someone invites you into their home as a way of calming you down when you’re on the verge of a panic attack? You just insult them and-”

“I wasn’t having a panic attack.”

“You were maybe two minutes away from one and please stop interrupting me it’s so rude and isn’t your whole thing about treating people with-”

“How are you not panicking? You’re having a baby possibly my baby and you’re just sat there with your nasty tea and-”

“That’s it.” You say with a huff and Harry flinches slightly as you all but slam your mug down onto the table before standing up causing Paris to jolt awake at your sudden outburst. “You’ve insulted my car and my tea today and I was going to let it slide because that’s fine we can have differences in opinions on tea and cars but that’s on top of the fact you don’t even remember what happened between us that night and you think the story of Troy is just a Brad Pitt movie and I just-I think you should leave now.” Harry blinks up at you as your hands fall to your sides in what he almost thinks is a sign of defeat, as if you lost the internal battle you were having with yourself on trying to keep your cool with him and that makes his mouth droop a bit into a small frown.

“I remember plenty about what happened that night.” He counters as he slowly stands up while you grab your mug and turn towards the kitchen. Harry reaches for his phone in his front pocket so he can text his driver your address and a message to please come get him as soon as possible.

“If that were true then today wouldn’t have been such a shock for you.” You explain before you disappear from Harry’s sight, he can’t really put a finger on the exact feeling that comes over him as he stands there in your living room knowing that everything you said is true. He doesn’t remember exactly what went on between the two of you, at least not very clearly.

He knows that the two of you had an intimate moment in the bathroom because the evidence was shown to him this afternoon when the doctor handed him a piece of paper that told him you are truly pregnant and this is all really happening. Since then he hasn’t been able to think straight or focus on much of anything and if he’s being honest he really isn’t good in stressful situations in general, he tends to either overreact or just panic and this by far is one of the most stressful situations he’s ever found himself in and he knows he isn’t handling himself the way he should be. And your calm and relaxed demeanor just seems to make him even more unnerved because he doesn’t get how you’re not in the same panic riddled boat as him.

Harry runs a hand through his hair, giving a tug at his roots as he glances down to your couch, he catches Paris do a lengthy stretch before he sits up briefly just to look at Harry and decide that even he is fed up with him so he jumps off the couch and walks off into the kitchen. Now in that moment Harry knows he should do that as well, follow your cat’s lead and walk into your cramped kitchen so he can at least attempt to apologize for a few things but he doesn’t. Instead he just runs a knuckle under his nose as he sniffles a bit and when he feels his phone vibrate and sees a text letting him know his driver is on his way he lets out a heavy sigh. He takes one last look at your kitchen entryway, hoping that maybe you’ll come back and sit down on the couch and he thinks that he wouldn’t even mind if you didn’t say anything but just sat there not looking at him so that way he would at least be able to tell you goodbye and prove to you that he’s capable of being polite but the sound of the sink being turned on quickly wash away any traces of hope he might’ve had.

“This is so fucked.” He mumbles to himself as he walks towards your front door, he knows better than to leave the two of you like this, with certain things needing to be spoken and unkind words being the last ones said but he doesn’t have much of a choice since you won’t come out of the kitchen. So Harry opens your front door and walks out into the hallway making sure to close it as quietly as possible deciding that maybe this is for the best and at least he’s giving you exactly what you asked for, him leaving.

You watch the last bits of your tea go down the drain as the sound of your front door opening and then closing hits your ears, you take a few steps back from the sink so you can poke your head out into the living room and when you see it’s empty you just let out a sigh and go back to cleaning your mug. You didn’t want to end your afternoon like this, standing alone in your kitchen because your patience was worn too thin for the man who somehow managed to charm you into agreeing to a quickie in a bar bathroom over a month ago.

You almost don’t even know how that man and the one who was sat in your living room not even five minutes ago are the same person. The Harry you met at the bar was fun and flirty and even though he teased you throughout the night it was never with any real intention to hurt your feelings while this Harry can’t help but take every chance he can get to insult you or toss a jab your way about something. You don’t know why the corners of your mouth turn downwards at the idea of the night you two met never really meaning anything to him aside from being the night he got you pregnant. You don’t get to think about it for too much longer as Paris jumps onto the counter and makes his way over to sit next to the sink momentarily taking your mind off the curly haired boy.

“We can do this right? We’ll be fine won’t we?” You ask him while he sits there looking at you with his big green yellow-ish eyes that all of a sudden remind you a bit too much of the man who just left your apartment without even saying goodbye. “Next time bite him a bit harder okay?”

[k-yurieee]

'ALMOST ALWAYS' CHAPTER 4 IS HERE!! WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! 🎉🎉

(Edit 3 : I started writing this post/reblog last week Monday. Don't worry about what day it is today. I just kept nitpicking at it and having more thoughts that I wanted to add everytime I came back to this, and time kept getting away from me because of irl events, sooo yeah. Stuff happens.)

Edit 1 : My usual yapping will be under the cut for this one, cause I might ramble on for bit longer than usual today. Yeah, I've got some things to say. They might not be particularly intelligible, but is anything I ever say on this app comprehensible? Probably not. Soooooo buckle up I guess 🤷‍♀️

Edit 2 : (also please ignore that I'm posting this like wayyyy after I've read this chapter, I had this saved and edited as a draft and thought I had posted it after editing it, before I decided to take a nap, but... Guess I was mistaken lol. And sleep deprived, but that's besides the point. Also I guess the draft didn't even save properly earlier??? Because I'm rereading the whole thing now and I'm pretty sure there's stuff I added earlier that seems to be missing now so.... That's sooo fun haha 🙃 I'll try to re-add anything I can remember 🫡)

Edit 1 (continued) : ohhhhh my gosh, this chapter was another ✨emotional rollercoaster✨ (which isn't anything new with this series, and honestly I should've expected it but mannnn, it just gets me every. single. time 😭😭😔)

Let me just quickly gush about this part first because EEEEEEEEhEEhEEEeeeee I can never NOT giggle and kick my feet over sweet moments like this, are you KIDDING me, I'm an absolute sucker for fluff, and I will die on that hill (also I just need to let myself simmer in this fluffy warmth before I divulge into my slightly more serious thoughts, I'll get to those in a second but firsttttt LOOK AT THIS ARE YOU KIDDING MEEEEEEEE👇👇👇😭😭😭😭)

'You deserve to cuddle up next to someone who truly values your presence and genuinely just wants you to be there with them for a little while.

You deserve the soft tickling fingertips that delicately dance across your hairline, lingering there for far longer than ‘just a second’.

You deserve the barely whispered, super soft “Love you.” spoken so tenderly and punctuated with a gentle kiss pressed to the top of your head, it makes you tighten your arms around him.'

When I tell you this made me wanna scream (wouldn't be the first time this fic affected me this way lolll) into my hands and jump up and down 😭😭😭 like girl can you PLEASE be normal (and by 'you', I mean 'I', as in ME. I need to relax lmaoooo 🙃)

This chapter... This chapter was so much. I truly am not sure how to put into proper words everything it made me feel, but I will try. Honestly I feel (and have felt) more than a bit conflicted about them (Joe & R, obvs). And I mean, that's kind of expected, right?

I want to support them but I also low-key want to smack them both upside their head sometimes (but like, in an affectionate 'why did you do that, you flippin idiot, I believe in you and know you can act better than this' kind of way)

It made me remember this quote I heard a while back that went something like "sometimes we dislike other people because we see the parts of ourselves that we dislike, in them". And it irked me because it reminded me of how I'd treated certain people in my life before, in ways that I'm not proud to admit. In one of the previous chapters, Joe had a thought somewhere along the lines of "I can't control my feelings, but I can control how I treat others", and I thought 'this is great, he knows how he should move forward, good for him, he's learned his lesson.' And I hoped it would be the same for the Reader character as well, and that both of them would implement this afterward.

And then... Then this chapter happened, and yeah, maybe they weren't in a completely committed relationship with the people who were sleeping in their beds, and maybe they 'weren't doing anything illegal', and all that, but... They could still be hurting someone else's feelings. Again. Low-key I had my face in my hands like "guys please, I know y'all can't stay away from each other, and I want you guys to end up together too but likeee there's got to be a better way to do this, pleaseeee" 🛐 😭

And maybe that's the point. They're human. They make mistakes. Sometimes they learn and grow from their past mistakes, and sometimes they continue doing the same stupid thing a million times over even if they know it won't end well for them. And it was when they made those questionable choices, when they tried to pretend that their problems didn't exist, when they constantly made excuses and kept repeating the same regrettable cycle over and over – it was during of all those moments that I looked at these characters, and I saw a part of myself. Parts of myself that I didn't like, but acknowledged was there nonetheless. It was these aspects that I could personally relate to.

This is why they feel so fucking REAL to me.

I just really hope things will end well for everyone in the last chapter because mannnn 🥲🥲😭

'But he wants you to stay. It doesn’t have to be like before. Things can be different. Better.'

This part hurt me more than it should 😭😭😭😭

(I know I wrote more about my personal feelings than about the actual fic, but like I said before, I had written more about it - over a week ago - in this draft that didn't save properly, and my memory is generally not that great, sooo yeah. I at least know that I had some thoughts about Emily's response to the whole situation and stuff but I can't recall anything specific I'd written rn. I want to reread this chapter at some point to see if it re-sparks any of those thoughts I had last time but... we'll see lol.)

Anywayssss I can't believe there is just ONE more chapter left to this series omggggg this fic has been an experience for sure

(I'm gonna need to lie down again aren't I 🥲🙃)

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: -

Wordcount: 6.5K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“I didn’t say he doesn’t… I just said, he has never actually said it.”

Emily’s jaw dropped, and you immediately regretted saying what you just said.

“No, stop. He has said it. Forget I said anything. It’s fine.”

You knew exactly what she was going to say.

She’d alluded to it from the start. Rolled her eyes at him. Made faces of outrageous confusion that told you, how can someone behave like that, without having to say the words aloud. Without making you hear them.

“I’m just saying…” Emily started, and showed you a facial expression that made you feel stupid for even bringing it up.

“It’d be better for you to leave him.”

You laughed, like she made a joke, yet so aware that she absolutely wasn’t.

But listen, if you didn’t laugh, you’d cry, because you knew, you knew somewhere in the back of your mind that it probably was better for you to leave him.

Not a truth you wanted to face though.

There were still too many easy excuses for you to make.

So... you made them.

But Emily’s face remained quite serious.

“Emily. You don’t mean that.” You said on the back-end of a giggle.

“Are you joking? My God, it’d be so much better if you left him. Better for you, better for, well, me. Can’t even tell you he loves you? What is he on?!”

You shushed her, and looked over your shoulder in the general direction of your bathroom and listened for a few seconds. The shower was still going. He couldn’t have heard her.

Good.

Not that Emily’s general opinion was a huge secret. But still. It was nice if the peace could be kept for the night.

“He does tell me that.” you argued, much softer. “Just...”

“Just does it when he’s about to hang up the phone? Just a quick, casual, love ya, when he’s saying goodbye?”

“Well, he–”

“Or does he only say it when he’s about to come?”

“Emily.”

“Oh, God. You’re so beyond help, I don’t even know what to tell you anymore.”

For a moment, you avoided eye-contact. Pressed your lips together and looked around the room whilst your friend tried her best to get it into your head that Joe really just wasn’t it.

“You know you’re in second place.” Emily said, suddenly much more earnestly. “You don’t deserve to be in second place.”

Which was a nice sentiment. A thing a best friend was meant to tell you. A bit like a parent calling their baby a genius because they accidentally made a bit of babbling sound like a real string of words.

“Well,” you said, taking a deep breath in and giving Emily your best smile. “So is he, so I guess we’re even.”

He wasn’t.

These were two different leagues.

But suggesting that Emily was in first place with you was the quickest way to make her feel appreciated even though her advice went untaken.

It always did.

Emily was a good friend and always gave excellent advice. And you were a good friend because you always listened to what she had to say. Or, you thought you did. Would tell yourself you did.

But then you simply wouldn’t follow any of it.

You hadn’t taken her advice when she’d told you to stop fucking around in a fourteen month situationship.

“I like how this just… works, don’t you?” Joe had said one evening when you were wrapped up on his sofa together. You’d made a comment that someone had flirted with you and had asked if you were single. You hadn’t known what to tell them.

Joe had just shrugged then.

“Let’s not push for something if it doesn’t need it. Something not broken doesn’t need a fix, does it?”

And you’d disagreed then. Had hoped that he’d grow a little protective and would’ve gone, um what do you mean of course you’re not single. For a while you also hadn’t wanted to define anything, because fuck commitment, right? But it had been over a year and Emily said that you should ask him to just fucking label it already.

You hadn’t.

You also hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you that she thought this guy wasn’t going to make you happy.

Hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you that she thought this guy was ultimately just there for a bit of fun, but not really much else.

Hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you to just leave him already when you told her he had never sincerely told you that he loves you.

“I know you’re smart enough to know that it’s absolutely wild that he’s not said–”  

“It’s because you just hear all the bad things, I’m sorry. I should also tell you about the good shit.”

“Oh, yea? Like what?” Emily challenged, and in the silence that followed, you heard the shower turn off.

“Like... look! Look what he got me!” you said, picking up a bag from a dining table chair.

Your friend looked at it for a moment, blank faced, and then narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“Got you? Like, he went out and bought that for you? Or, was that sent to him by the brand, and he just passed it on?”

You looked at the bag you were still holding, then gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. He still gave it to me.”

It was a nice bag.

“Not exactly the same is it.”

No, it wasn’t. But... you know. You could pretend it was.

“Still counts.”

“Okay. If you think so.”

You didn’t think so, not after what Emily had just said, but you were willing to accept it for the nice gesture, and that was all you cared about. Or, what you told yourself was all you cared about.

“I think so.” You definitively told Emily, breaking into a smile to really sell it.

Just when she was about to roll her eyes at you and maybe try her hand at talking a little more sense into you, Joe called you from the bathroom.

You left Emily on her own for about a minute before joining her again.

“Okay. Let’s go. He’s not coming.” You grabbed your coat and found your bag. The one Joe had given to you, but hadn’t spent a penny on.

“He’s– what?”

“He thought of something that still needs doing. He’s not coming.”

Emily stared at you from where she was sat, watching you hurriedly wrestle your arms into the sleeves of your coat as she slowly caught up to speed.

“So, I’m sorry, but have we just waited for him for ages for fucking nothing then?”

You ignored her tone, finding your phone, your keys, and then Emily’s coat as well.

“Let’s go. If we hurry, we might beat the rain.”

You chucked Emily her coat, and she almost didn’t move her arms in time to catch it. With the front door already open, you gestured for Emily to make her way through, calling, “Bye! We’re off!” into the flat.

Emily, under her breath, very mockingly sing-songed, “Love you!” in that same tone as she walked past you, making her point once more.

You didn’t repeat her, but instead rolled your eyes at what you decided was a joke, and then loudly said, “Don’t wait up!”

You didn’t wait for Joe to answer before you slammed the door shut.

It’s been weeks.

Months, technically, although it doesn’t feel it.

“Please be home, please be home, please be home,” you mutter to yourself as you rush your way down his street. “Please be in the fucking country, for just this fucking once…”

You’d texted and had gotten no coloured ticks from him. So then you’d called, but it just rang for ages before you were eventually sent to voicemail, and that’s something you don’t do. Especially not now. Not about this. Hell would have to freeze over before you’d leave a voicemail message. You could delete a text thread, or a voice note. But, a voicemail? Once a voicemail sends out, there is no undoing that.

Maybe you’re crazy, but what you’re doing now feels safer.

It’s after midnight, dark, the streets wet from earlier rainfall, but you feel wide awake. You’ve got Emily’s words ringing in your ears still, and you’ve not been able to shake them yet.

Her advice.

Or, well, it was more just her opinion. She had expertly dressed it up as a fact, though, which is probably why that one sentence still held you in a vice grip.  

Telling her about how you’d had a few… moments, with Joe, since you’d broken up with him, turns out, was the wrong thing to do.

You just really wanted to tell her about the wine.

The expensive bottle you’d satisfyingly dunked into his kitchen sink.

It’s been weeks by now, but you still think about that all the time. And every time that you do, you feel pure glee spark inside of you.

You thought she’d be the same.

You thought she’d absolutely love it.

But then, after you had told her all about that night, she’d just looked at you with so much disdain and disappointment, it startled you into rambling excuses, none of which sounded true to your own ears, let alone hers. She then had shook her head, and sort of muttered something to herself that you asked her to repeat.

It’s those words that haven’t left the forefront of your mind since.

You didn’t ask Emily to clarify herself. You hadn’t gotten into an argument, either. You had just… moved onto a different topic. A lighter, easier to digest thing to talk about.

It left those words to rein freely, left those words at liberty to inflate themselves until they were all you could think about, and the feeling had clawed at your chest for the rest of the day. The rest of the night.

You hadn’t been able to answer the question, what’s wrong, that you were repeatedly asked until it made you upset.

“Nothing’s wrong! Stop asking me what’s wrong! God! You asking me what’s wrong a million times a minute is what’s wrong!”

Something is wrong though.

Obviously.

You just left someone in your bed for this.

Ringing Joe’s doorbell is a quick action, fingers pressing that familiar button before you can have any doubt of what you’re doing. It takes longer than a few seconds before you hear a small beep.

“Joe? I texted you, can you reply to my text?”

A silence follows, and for a moment you think maybe the intercom doesn’t work properly, or maybe he just hadn’t heard you.

“I– I sent you a message, check your phone–”

A loud click of the door unlocking and a loud shrill buzzing sound interrupts you.

“No you don’t have to– just text me back, will you?”

No answer follows, but the loud buzzing persists. After a few more seconds of it, you know Joe’s just holding down the button until you go inside.

That wasn’t the plan. 

With a frustrated grumbling sigh, swearing under your breath, you push yourself into Joe’s building and make your way to his front door.

In the lift you decide you won’t let the doors close properly when they’ll open on Joe’s floor. You’ll tell him from half inside the lift that he just needs to check his phone.

You just want an answer.

But then the lift doors open and one foot steps out as you lean into the hallway, expecting to see Joe waiting by his front door, yet he isn’t.

You make an angry face, nose pulling up and showing your clenched teeth with a frown. You’re in a building where people are asleep so you can’t make any noise, but you absolutely would have otherwise. Joe leaves you no other choice but to get out of the lift, and begrudgingly, you make your way over to his doormat.

When you get closer, you can see how the door’s been left open.

“Hey,” you whisper-yell into the flat, “Joe?”

You get no answer, and take a few careful steps inside to find him standing in his kitchen in a T-shirt and a pair of boxer-briefs. He’s got his back turned to you, and is seemingly busy cleaning up mess he’s left out from dinner.

It’s the fucking middle of the night.

It’s dark in Joe’s flat, the only light in the room coming from his under cabinet LEDs, and it’s weirdly warm for the time of night, you think.

“Hey, I–” you start, voice low because it’s late, but you quickly get cut off by Joe.

“Did you close the door?”

You blink a few times and watch Joe very carefully load some things into his dishwasher, making little to no noise at all. No plates softly clashing, no rattling cutlery.

“What? No. I–”

“Will you close the door, please?” Joe asks, but it sounds like a demand. Sort of cold, a little detached.

“All I’m here to say,” you try again. “Is that I want you to check your phone...”

Joe stands up straight and finally looks at you. Whilst maintaining eye-contact he slowly closes the dishwasher until it latches, machine clicking shut, and when he then just... keeps staring at you, you throw your head back like an annoyed teenager, and reluctantly do as you’re told.

You go to close his front door.

In the kitchen you hear the tap go, and when you join Joe there again, you can see how he’s filling up a glass with water.

Joe is about to take a sip when he suddenly decides against it and lowers the glass.

“Water?” he then asks, and holds it out to you with a stretched arm.

You’re slightly confused, but you take it, and then watch Joe reach for another glass from a cabinet and fill that one for himself.

“Thanks, but…” you place the glass on his counter and hold two hands up to Joe. “I’m just here because I need an answer to a text.”

Joe, with his mouth in his own glass, sort of looks at you a moment as he gulps water down.

He looks tired.

Which, yea, that checks out.

You fucking woke him up, didn’t you?

There’s so many reasons to declare yourself clinically insane right now, but you’re holding onto the notion that this is actually all totally normal with all of your might. If you pretend to believe it, you might just be able to trick Joe into it as well.

But Joe just looks at you like he’s waiting for you to give the real reason of why you’re there.

“So, if you could just, check that. Answer it. That’d be great.” You force a polite smile and step back. “That’ll be all.” And you turn to leave again.

“You’ve been crying.” Joe stops you in your tracks.

You turn back to him.

“No. Well, yea I was, but that’s not– I’m fine, that was about something else, not this. You don’t have to– stop, I’m going to go, please... respond to my message. I’ll read it when I get in, and that’ll be that.”

“Wait.”

Joe picks up the glass of water you’ve just put down and gives it back to you. When it’s in your hands, he even gives it a little push upward to ensure that you have a sip.

“I’ll go get my phone.”

And he’s so calm and agreeable that it feels rude to do anything else but take a sip and wait for him. You watch Joe walk out of the room to go get his phone, and it’s a lot of opening and closing doors, everything done as quietly as humanly possible. Then, you suddenly notice how hot you feel in your coat. It’s really fucking warm in here.

That’s new.

That’s... weird.

When Joe comes back, he closes the door behind him again and looks at his phone as he unlocks it.

“Why did you call me?”

“Just–”

“I’ll read the text.”

In silence, you stand and watch Joe open his texts and read your message. Messages. There’s several. Then, he starts typing back, and, this is what you came here for, but now that you’re standing in Joe’s kitchen in the middle of the night, having pulled him out of bed for this, you almost want to tell him he’s being an idiot. He can just as easily answer your question in person.

His message sends, and your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Joe places his down and gives you a tired stare.

“Yea, okay. Th-thanks.”

“Read it.”

It startles you.

“No, that’s…” You’re so stupid. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Read your message.”

You feel like a fucking child that’s being scolded by a parent.

Guilt.

Regret.

Self-inflicted, which makes all of it so much worse.

Every feeling sits dark and sticky and bitterly uncomfortable in your gut, clinging to all the edges, stretching longer until the shadows overtake all of the previous excuses you had for being here.

You shouldn’t have come.

You shouldn’t have gone to wake up Joe over something so insignificant and, well, dumb. It’s embarrassing, and you want to leave.

“You’re here now. I’m up. Read your message.”

You inhale deeply. Hold it there for a moment.

He’s right.

The damage has been done.

You’ve dipped a toe into this strange pond, and now you might as well canon ball yourself right into this uncomfortable mess, no matter how cold the water might be.

The only way out seems through.

You pull your phone from your pocket with a clammy hand, and fucking damn it, you’re sweating underneath all of your layers.

“I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have woken you up.”

Joe just lets his eyes drop to your phone before he looks right at you again, his very stance issuing the orders.

Read the fucking text.

You see the notification and open your phone with face ID. Your own messages to Joe catch your attention first, before you see his reply.

“Were we as good as we’re going to get?”

“What we were together”

“Was that really as good as it can get?”

“Ever?”

You didn’t have to send the same question in various different ways, but that’s what had happened.

Emily’s reaction to the stand alone get-togethers you’d participated in with Joe hadn’t been what you’d expected. You’d hoped for a level of girl power encouragement. For a loud get it girl, or a, yea babe get what you want.

Instead, you’d gotten a sigh and shake of her head, followed by a soberly mumbled, “You really do deserve each other…” that you’d asked her to repeat.

Before she’d always said that Joe didn’t deserve you. That was always the point she tried to get across. The idea she tried to sear into your brain. Joe was beneath you, and you were far above. Always.

And then suddenly, now you are no longer too good for him?

Suddenly you’re on equal footing, and you deserve each other.

What the fuck.

You look at your own messages and realise in that very second that you have no idea what kind of answer you are after from Joe. This isn’t a coin toss situation where you know what side you want that coin to land on the moment it get’s thrown into the air. Fear strikes you lightning fast. No matter what Joe is going to tell you, it’s going to be wrong.

What the fuck are you doing at Joe’s flat?

And why is it so fucking hot in here?

The only way out is through.

You read Joe’s text.

“Darling it’s late, let’s not do this over text”

A non-answer.

You look up at Joe, who is now leaning against his kitchen counter, legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest. His head tilts to the side a little and neither of you speak.

It’s oddly unexpected that the guy in his underwear exudes more confidence than the girl bundled up in heavy layers of clothing.

You frown and read the message again.

For a second you debate what to do next. What to say. If this is going to be the end of this interaction, or if it’s going to be just the beginning.

It’s late, though.

You inhale deeply. Slowly.

Then, resign.

“Okay.”

Because honestly, what were you really even expecting from him?

Your soft little defeated okay isn’t what Joe expected though, you can see it in the minor change on his face. The eyebrows that quirk up slightly, his jaw that loosens, the eyes that round out...

“I’ll um...” you say softly, letting your phone sink back into a pocket before pulling at your sleeves to let them cover both hands.

Joe steps forward and bends to look at the clock on the oven behind him before he says, “Well. Since you’re here. Might as well.”

He gestures an arm at his dining table. At one of his chairs. It’s hard, but you do your best to ignore the memories of the last time you were there, sat in one of these chairs. Well, technically, you hadn’t sat in one of the chairs... Joe had sat on one of the chairs and you–

“Am I going to get an explanation of what’s going on?” Joe asks as he pulls out a chair for you.

Finally, you remove your coat.

“It’s a long story.” You say, then think for a moment and add, “No it’s not, actually. Emily said–”

“Ah. Emily.” Joe sits down in a chair opposite. “How is Emily doing?”

“Shut up. She’s fine.” You exclaim, voice a little raised in defense, and you’re immediately shushed by Joe. He holds up a hand as he perks up, and you get the message, lowering your tone as you add, “This isn’t about her.”

“It’s not?”

“No. She just said something. I…” you trail off for a second.

Your head’s a scrambled mess of doubt and insecurities and it doesn’t help that all you’ve done in the past few hours is overthink every single thought that’s popped into your brain. It’s a bit of a journey to retrace your steps and go back to the start of all of this.

“We were talking, and suddenly she... she said something and I’m just… I wanted to know if you think that… if you think what I texted you is true.”

“You just… wanted to know… if I think…” Joe narrows his eyes up at the ceiling as he thinks, slowly repeating your words.

It’s condescending.

Patronising.

Joe’s making fun of you.

“All right, be fucking honest or–”

“No, no. I’m sorry. Sorry. It’s nearly two in the fucking morning,” two already big eyes comically enlargen, but don’t make you laugh. Wrong audience. “But, yea, you’re right. Honest. I’ll be honest.”

You take a deep breath in preparation of what he’s about to say.

Were we as good as we’re going to get?

“Imposing question, though.”

Yea, you’re aware. It’s why you hadn’t been able to sleep and had eventually decided to just get up and out of bed, leave the boy you had in there on his own, and make your way over to Joe’s.

“I don’t know.”

Wild how you feel about five inches tall whilst simultaneously feeling like you’re taking up too much space in the room.

“You don’t know.”

Typical.

“Well. No, I… was it as good, wait, what was it?” Joe looks past you and sees that he’s left his phone on the counter. “Was it as good as it could be?”

You exhale through flared nostrils, frustration forcing your eyes shut for a moment.

“Were we as good as it’s ever going to get for us?”

“Were we as good as it’s ever going to get... I mean, I think so? I– But–... you tell me. Were we?”

And Joe’s right. It is late. You have spent hours thinking that question over, and you couldn’t answer it when you weren’t as tired as you are now, so it’s useless to even try at this hour.

You shrug, and for a moment, it’s quiet. You don’t know how to go about leaving now. You came here for something you aren’t going to get and so, fucking now what?

“Why um... why have you been crying?”

“Oh, I...” your fingers find your sleeve to rub. “I was asked why I couldn’t sleep, and I... well, I couldn’t really explain, so...”

Joe frowns in confusion, not understanding.

“I don’t know, you try listening to someone say shit like, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you, fifty times in a row, and try not to fucking snap.”

They’d been tears of angry frustration, mostly with yourself, and they’d actually surprised you. You hadn’t expected to cry, but, you felt hurt by words your best friend said to you, so you guess that does add up, actually.

Something slowly dawns on Joe before he then leans back in his chair and nods, scrunching his nose, and he whispers, “Jasper.”

“Jasper.” you confirm, and it makes you chuckle a little before a yawn breaks it up.

Joe watches you. Lets his eyes take you in. It’s the middle of the night and you’re very clearly going through something, but he hasn’t got the answers to the questions you’re asking him, and he hates it.

Wishes he could help.

Wishes the questions you wanted answers to weren’t so impossible.

Joe watches you yawn. Watches your eyes blink slowly as you stare into space for a moment. It’s so quiet, he can hear his clock tick on the other side of the room. Then suddenly, you smile.

“I told Emily about the wine... about how I was a complete bitch and poured that bottle right down your drain.”

And Joe can’t help but feel more amused at your smile than feel annoyed about his expensive wine being wasted. He won’t let his face show it though.

“Bet she enjoyed that.”

“Yea I thought she would, but... she just... she said that we deserve each other. Whatever that means.”

Joe watches your fingers rub along your sleeves. Knows what that means.

“That’s not true.” he suddenly says, voice low and sincere.

“Oh, right,” you huff a laugh and half-heartedly joke, “I don’t deserve you, of course.”

Joe doesn’t laugh.

“No, I mean... well, yes. Technically.” Before he continues, Joe shakes his head in an attempt get his thoughts in order. It’s late. “But not in the way you just said it. In that... you probably deserve better.”

“Probably?”

“Yea. And so do I. Probably.”

Hmm.

You silently mill that over for a second. Aren’t sure what to make of it. If there’s even anything to agree or disagree with there.

“But, who’s to say. All we know is that we weren’t the best before.”

Joe stresses that last word and then lets the words float in the air for you to draw your own conclusions from. It’s certainly true that you weren’t the best together - hence the break up that eventually happened. But Joe’s expertly sharing the blame, which is not a fun truth to face.

The before saves it, a little.

The before makes it sounds like Joe’s talking about two people who no longer exist. Like, those people are gone. That door is closed. And look at you now. You’re a whole new set of two different people. It’s a different world, and you’ve changed. Grown. Learnt.

Who knows what you’d be like now.

Joe can’t predict the future.

And neither can you.

“Hmm.” you hum, eyes trained on the surface of the table, body flushed with conflicting feelings you don’t know how to put into words. Instead of stumbling through words until you find ones that make sense, you remain silent and pull at your sleeves so there’s more fabric for your fingers to run across.

“Hey,” Joe leans forward a little and catches your attention. “Are you okay? Do I need to be worried about you?”

You smile and let it take over your whole face as you shake your head no before you bring your hand up to cover another yawn.

“No. But I should go. This was never meant to be– she just… I don’t know, Emily got into my head and I didn’t know how to get her out.”

Joe contemplates in silence. Wonders if he’s okay with the idea of you walking out and going home right now, in this state. It’s almost three o’clock.

“I don’t make the best decisions after midnight. Sorry.”

You push your chair back and get up on your feet, the plan being to give Joe a quick polite hug goodbye before you make your way back to his front door.

You’re tired, but you know the second you step outside into the cold air that will make your lungs feel sore, you’ll wake up enough to make your way home without any problems.

But then Joe decides you can’t just go.

You can’t just leave.

He’s stuck.

You’re stuck.

You’re stuck in it, together, in this muddy sludge of whatever the two of you have become now. One of you is going to have to step out of their shoes and escape, and Joe thinks it should be you, because you’ve escaped this quicksand of a relationship before. You know how to get out.

It’s weird that you willingly came back.

Keep coming back.

And it’s awful that Joe just keeps inviting you in. Welcomes you with open arms every single time.

But he wants you to stay. It doesn’t have to be like before. Things can be different. Better.

He decides he’s not just going to let you leave, so when he stands up and you go in for a hug, he takes hold of you by your upper arms and starts moving you towards his sofa.

Says, “Come sit for a second.”

And no resistance comes from you. Joe thinks it must be because you’re tired. You’ve cried and you’ve worried and you’ve let all of it eat away at you until you decided to reach out to him, and now, he wants you to stay. He’s not a fan of how, from a certain angle, it looks like he’s taking advantage of the situation, but... you’re both adults.

He’s not doing anything illegal.

Well.

There’s a girl in his bed.

It’s why the flat is warm and why all the doors are closed. Joe shouldn’t have let you inside. Shouldn’t have made you come in and shouldn’t have made you close the door behind you. Shouldn’t have given you a glass of water and shouldn’t have sat you down.

He doesn’t want you to leave now.

There’s a girl in his bed.

And you’ve got a Jasper in yours.

Joe’s closeness to you will come at a price, he’s aware. But it’s one he’s willing to pay. One he’s got the cash for, no problem. Name the sum and he’ll double it.

He’s got you by the arms and is walking you over to his sofa. You are stopped just before you’re about to step onto the area rug.

“Shoes off,” he says, like he gives a shit. You know he doesn’t, but listen to him anyway, and know that taking your shoes off means you’re not going anywhere. At least not for a while.

You get turned around and get sat down, and immediately, you feel far too comfortable. The seat’s too soft. The cushion’s too fluffy. Memories of the hours spent snuggled up on this sofa shoot into the forefront of your mind and you want to warn Joe that it’s not going to take much for you to fall asleep.

But before you can, he pulls a throw blanket from the other side and hands it to you, and you realise that getting comfy and cosy is actually the goal here.

There’s a guy in your bed, who you’ve just… left. Didn’t tell him anything. Just got out, got dressed and left.

You take the blanket from Joe.

It’s probably a good idea to at least let him know something. Send him a text. Let him know you’re okay. But that little voice of reason in your head gets drowned out when Joe sits down next to you and helps sort out the blanket so it covers you both.

“Sit for a second?” you ask through a soft half-suppressed laugh as Joe settles in beside you, your thighs touch underneath the throw. “Am I staying the night?”

“I don’t know, I don’t control what you do. I just want to sit for a second.”

Joe stretches an arm behind you that you think he’s going to rest on top of the sofa, but it moves your head forward a little as it grabs hold of your bicep to pull you in a bit more.

“Joe...” you warn, but it sounds lighthearted and sleepy.

“What?” Joe acts all innocent, but you can hear his amusement when he adds, “Just for a second.”

Joe is still shuffling in his spot, using his other hand to sort the cushion behind him, then pulling the blanket and tucking it under his leg, followed by him using his chin to fix the bit of flipped cotton of his T-shirt sleeve – it’s a lot of faffing for someone who wants to sit for just a second.

He’s nearly done, a centering sigh half way out of him when, suddenly, you feel how he pipes up a little and see how he looks across the room. His phone’s still on the counter, and for a second, Joe debates getting up to go and get it.

You determine on his behalf that he doesn’t need his phone by draping your arm across his stomach and snuggling up.

It’s warm in Joe’s flat.

And this little nest is perfect.

“Fine.” you mutter softly. “Jus’ for a second.”

Joe pauses for a moment as he looks down at how you let your nose brush his arm, your eyes already closed, and he grins as he sinks back down into his sofa.

You don’t make the best decisions after midnight.

Neither does Joe.

Maybe you do deserve each other. Maybe you don’t.

But you deserve this, you think. And you mean that in the best way possible. You deserve to be comfortable, and cosy, and toasty warm in a dimly lit room with a man who smells really nice.

You deserve to cuddle up next to someone who truly values your presence and genuinely just wants you to be there with them for a little while.

You deserve the soft tickling fingertips that delicately dance across your hairline, lingering there for far longer than ‘just a second’.

You deserve the barely whispered, super soft “Love you.” spoken so tenderly and punctuated with a gentle kiss pressed to the top of your head, it makes you tighten your arms around him.

You fall asleep in the soft glow of the under cabinet LEDs with the knowledge that the next morning is bound to be awkward. But this is still infinitely nicer than trying to fall asleep with Emily’s words on your mind. It’s difficult to think about impossible-to-answer questions when you’re wrapped up in strong warm arms that want you there, so you allow yourself to sink and to drift until dreams fully take you.  

A loud bang of a door slamming shut wakes the both of you with a violent jolt.

Two pairs of tired bleary eyes look around the room, and there’s a fleeting moment of confusion. Your mind scrambles to piece together where you are and what just happened, but all your mind can focus on is how dry and heavy your eyes feel as you blink to adjust to your surroundings.

“Oh, fuck,” Joe croaks, groaning as he goes to sit up. He looks over his shoulder, then rubs a heavy hand across his face before he goes, “Yea…”

You feel disoriented and frazzled, and move to sit up just enough to look over the back of the sofa with squinty eyes to see what Joe is even looking at.

All you see is an open door to the hallway that leads to his bedroom.

“What was that?” you ask, thinking maybe something dropped or knocked over somehow. When Joe gets up and walks over to his bedroom to check, you think that’s it. Something fell because gravity finally got a hold of whatever Joe had been precariously balancing on a bookshelf.

But then you hear Joe audibly sigh and dejectedly go, “Yea, she won’t be coming back.”

That takes minute to land.

It’s too early for your brain to comprehend what just happened, but slowly, puzzle pieces click together.

Oh.

Oh, that’s fucking detestable, isn’t it?

When Joe walks back out, he’s wearing joggers and is holding a ball of socks, and you hope there’s a different explanation than the correct one you just concocted. He looks at you for a moment, and you can tell by the look on his face that he feels awful.

Right.

Emily can fuck off.

You don’t deserve each other.

You deserve better than this.

Okay, so, yea, admittedly, you aren’t really one to talk, seeing the personal choices you have made over the past eight hours. But the choices Joe has made in that same span of time are just as bad, if not worse.

You decide to give into the feeling of wanting to lay back down rather than to face whatever this morning has on offer for you. You disappear from Joe’s sight, and cover all of your face with your hands that press and pull at your skin.

This is such a mess.

“Emily can fuck off.” You mutter into your own palms, hoping Joe can translate that and connect the dots of your disdain for him in this very moment.

You should leave.

Should check your phone for any messages or missed calls, and you should leave.

Never come back.

Learn your fucking lesson already and never set foot into this flat ever again.

But then Joe leans over the back of the sofa, and with knitted eyebrows that show off every single line on his forehead, he softly asks, “Do you want a coffee?”

You drop your hands.

Look up at him. The kind face. His short hair sleep messy. Jaw line. His mouth.

You should leave.

“Um…”

Oh... oh no.

“Yea…”

Fuck.

So close.

“Yea?”

You almost had it.

“Yea. I could use a coffee.”

Almost.

---

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[drewizz]

THIRD TIME - 04. ardor

pairing ☆ rafe cameron x reader

WARNINGS: unresolved sexual tension (if that even counts....)

WORD COUNT: 2K

TAGLIST: open! comment or send in an ask

series masterlist. previous next

ardor. (noun) great warmth of feeling; passion or burning heat

The rain had been pouring relentlessly, soaking both of you to the bone. You shoved open the door to your house, only for water to be dripping from the clothes of both of you onto the hardwood floor. 

Subconsciously you’d forgotten that you invited the Rafe Cameron over to your house. And now here he was, standing in your foyer, his presence quite intrusive as ever.

“You can’t just stand there dripping all over the place,” you said while shrugging off your (his) soaked jacket. “Great, now my floor’s going to be messed up.”

“Your floor?” Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, snickering. “Seems like you got your priorities straight. Thanks for such a warm welcome.”

You ignored him, heading towards your bathroom. The fabric of your dress clung stubbornly to your legs, making it quite uncomfortable to walk around in. You felt his gaze on your back, and it took everything in you to not turn around and snap at him.

“Stay there,” you called over your shoulder. “You’re already making a mess.”

“I’m soaked,” he countered, his voice tinged with amusement. “Standing still isn’t going to fix that.”

You reappeared with a pair of towels, tossing one at him without much thought. He caught it with a quick flick of his wrist, shaking his head as he worked to wring the water out of his hair. You tried not to stare at the way his shirt clung to him, the damp shirt outlining the muscles of his chest and shoulders.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice low enough that it sent a shiver down your spine. You told yourself that it was because of the cold.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said tightly, wrapping your own towel around your body. “Bathroom’s down the hall if you want to dry off properly.”

“And leave you here all alone?” He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “What kind of guest would I be?”

You rolled your eyes, but felt the heat rising in your cheeks. “Suit yourself. Just don’t get my couch all wet.”

Rafe didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you longer than you were comfortable with. “You’re shaking,” he said finally, his tone softer than you expected.

“Well, it’s freezing and I’m wearing a dress,” you remarked, pulling the towel tighter around yourself. “What did you expect?”

He stepped closer, his movements painfully slow, his presence filling the small space between you two. “I wasn’t planning on getting caught in a storm today, if that’s what you’re asking. Much less with you.”

“Neither was I. And it wasn’t,” you said, refusing to back away even as your pulse quickened.

For a moment, neither of you two spoke. The silence felt louder than the rain pounding against the windows. His eyes searched yours, his usual smirk fading into something more serious, more intense.

“You should change,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur.

“You also need to change,” you countered, your voice surprisingly steadier than how you felt.

His gaze flicked down, just for a moment, to where the strap of your dress had slipped off your shoulder. He reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing your skin as he pushed it back into place. The contact sent a jolt through you, and you froze, your breath catching in your throat. You didn't even notice yourself.

“Sorry,” he murmured, though his tone lacked any real apologetic intentions. His hand lingered for a bit before he pulled away.

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, stepping back to create a sudden, but much-needed space. The tension in the room was undeniable and didn't dissipate; if anything, it thickened.

“Wait, I’ll grab you something dry,” you said abruptly, turning toward your bedroom. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked away. It only caused your heart to start hammering in your chest. You had to keep your mind straight. Get a fucking grip of yourself Y/N. 

When you returned, you saw Rafe standing by the window, looking out at the storm. However, his shirt happened to be long gone from his body and draped over the back of the couch. You nearly dropped the extra clothes in your hands.

“Seriously?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. 

He turned, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“You couldn’t wait to take your shirt off until I gave you the clothes?” you asked, your voice higher than usual.

He shrugged, unbothered. “Didn’t think you’d mind. Do you?” He threw a playful grin at you.

“Well, I do mind,” you snapped, practically throwing the clothes at him. “Here. Wear these.”

He took them, a faint smirk playing at his lips. “Thanks. But I’m pretty sure your stuff doesn’t fit me.”

“It’s pretty ginormous on me already,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “So unless you’re secretly an extremely buff man, you’ll fit into it.”

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “Fair enough. I’ll change in the bathroom.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The heat in your cheeks was very apparent and impossible to ignore. You busied yourself tidying up the soaked towels and changed into dry clothes in your bedroom.

Rafe came out dressed in an old sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants that somehow still looked good on him. Shit. You found yourself secretly wishing you’d given him something uglier.

“Better?” he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“If you think so,” you replied in a monotone voice, refusing to meet his gaze.

He grinned, but for once, he didn’t press you. Instead, he walked over to the couch and dropped onto it with a sigh, running a hand through his still-damp hair.

“So,” he said after a moment, “what do people do for fun around here when they’re not getting caught in storms?”

“Are you seriously trying to make small talk right now?” you asked, incredulous.

“What else are we going to do? Do you seriously just want to sit here in silence?” he countered, gesturing toward the rain still pouring outside.

There were absolutely no signs that the storm would stop, and the thought of sitting in silence with him was somehow worse.

“Fine,” you sighed, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. “What do you want to talk about?”

He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Why do you hate me?”

The question caught you off guard, and you blinked at him, unsure how to respond. “I don’t hate you,” you said softly.

“Something people always tell me when they first meet me,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.

You sighed, leaning back against the cushions. “Rafe, I don’t hate you. I just think you’re too used to getting things your way. And you don’t seem to care about people you might hurt during the process..”

He tilted his head, considering your words. “And that bothers you? Because?”

“Yeah,” you said bluntly. “Because people like you never seem to face any consequences.”

He nodded slowly, as if your answer didn’t surprise him. “Okay, I guess. But maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“Maybe,” you allowed. “But you haven’t exactly given me a reason to think otherwise.”

He grinned at you, stretching his arm back on the couch. “What if I said I wanted to?”

“Wanted to what?”

“Give you a reason.”

Your heart had oddly skipped a beat, but you kept your expression neutral. “I’d say actions speak louder than words.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I can work with that.”

Silence fell again, but this time it was somewhat both comfortable and charged. Silence became a normal thing between you two, something quite frequent, too. You didn’t trust him (for now), but for the first time, you found yourself wondering if there was more to him than the cocky, privileged persona he masked so well.

And as much as you hated to admit it, part of you wanted to find out.

Rafe cleared his throat, interrupting the silence. “Why’d you let me in your house to dry off?”

The question caught you off guard (again), and you hesitated, unsure how to answer. Because you didn’t truly know the answer either. “Because it was raining,” you shrugged. “And I’m not heartless. I wasn't going to let you sit out there at the docks during a storm.”

“That’s it?” he asked, leaning towards your side. “No other reason?”

“What other reason would there be?” you muttered.

Rafe studied you for a good moment, his expression still unreadable. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re just curious about me.”

“About you?” you scoffed. “Hardly.” Fully.

“Liar,” he said walking over to take a seat right next to you on the couch.

Your pulse betrayed you and quickened again, and you hated how easily he could get under your skin. “You’re really infuriating sometimes, you know that?”

He leaned back again, his smirk returning, but there was something different about it now – something less calculated and more genuine. “Hm. So I’ve been told.”

The room became quiet again, and only soft patter of rain against the windows could be heard. You sat stiffly on the couch, not sure what to do with your own body. However, Rafe (of course) was getting comfortably seated right next to you.

The space between you two was nearly not enough.

“Are you always this tense?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. His leg shifted, brushing just enough to send a jolt through you.

“I’m not tense,” you snapped, pulling your legs up to tightly wrap your arms around them.

He chuckled, the sound deep and mildly annoying. “You’re really jittery.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re in my personal space,” you retorted, turning to glare at him.

“Personal space?” he echoed, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “I’m not even touching you.” He moved even closer to you (if that was even possible), reaching over your body for the gigantic blanket.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe,” he said, his tone softer now, his gaze locking with yours. “But you’re not moving.”

Your heart started pounding again, so loud you were definitely sure he could hear it. You opened your mouth to say something – quite literally anything – but the words wouldn’t form. 

He opened up the blanket to place on top of your legs and his, the motion only bringing him closer to you. So close you could feel the faint heat of his skin, the smell of rain and something distinctly him filling your senses.

“Tell me to move Y/N,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a low rasp.

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly extremely dry. “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

“No?” His head tilted slightly, his face just inches from hers, and the air between them felt like a live wire, buzzing and electric. “Because I’m starting to think you like this.”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much,” you barely managed, but the waver in your voice betrayed you.

His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering too long for your liking, before flicking back to your eyes. He had blue eyes. 

Everyone around you seemed to be like a white noise. As if put under anesthesia, your body seemed to turn numb. You haven’t felt like this in a long time. Desire. Yearning. The world outside melted away. 

There was only Rafe: the exasperating proximity of his body and the heavy weight of his gaze on you. 

Your fingers twitched against the blanket, every nerve in your body screaming for something you couldn’t name.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, as if whispering, your name rolling off his tongue like a secret.

Your breath caught, and for a fleeting moment, you thought you lost your mind. You started to lean in without even knowing. But then reality came crashing back – too loud and sudden. You tore your gaze away, scooting an inch away from him clearing your throat.

“I’m going to go make some food for us,” you whispered hoarsely.

For once, he didn’t push. He nodded, letting out a heavy and trembling breath out of his mouth.

Not only did the heavy tension get thicker, it was ready. For something new. It became like the storm outside, ready to break at any moment.

NOTE. sooo that developed much quicker than (i bet) many expected 😊😊😊 next chapter is definitely one that majority of ygs are waiting fooooor winkwink pls comment and tell me ur predictions or anything in general!! i love to hear the love from all of you :')

TAGS. @urbrunettebombshell @rafesfavouritegirl @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @percysley @wtfdudesblog @fratbrochrisgf

[kkayyerr]

Struggling and cuddling.

Summary: Rafe and JJ trying to tolerate each other for the little!reader‘s sake, until one evening JJ suddenly regress for the first time in front of his „enemy”.

Pairing: Daddy!Rafe x little!reader x little!JJ.

Warnings: Age regression, slight swearing.

Rafe was used to JJ always being cranky, especially after the fights with his father. No matter how much they despised each other, they had to cooperate because you seemed to love them both equally. They got used to each other’s behaviors, not enjoying the company of one another, but at least learning to be more calm while spending time together. However, JJ’s mood today was hard to tolerate. He was going off on you, being extremely rude to Rafe, cursing him off right in front of you, which he usually would never do. Rafe wasn’t scared of fighting JJ; it wouldn’t be the first time that he would deal with the Pogue. However, his feelings about the whole situation were odd. Something was wrong with the boy, but Rafe just couldn’t find out what. 

Rafe approached you while you were sitting on the carpet, coloring pictures with your favorite crayons. He hated the thoughts of you being present in the serious and stressful conversation, so he crouched down in front of you, giving you a head pat to get your attention. 

 

„Baby, can you please go and play in our bedroom for a little while?”

 

You looked at him confused. He usually would tell you that when you had misbehaved. Why would he ask you that when you didn’t do anything wrong? 

 

„Why?”

 

Rafe sighed. He didn’t know how to exactly explain this. He obviously didn’t want your precious little mind to be filled with adult problems, so he knew that he had to just make something up quickly.

 

„Me and JJ want to make a little surprise for you, okay?”

 

Your demeanor quickly changed to a happy one, and you quickly got up from the floor, taking all the crayons and coloring books with you to the room. Rafe gave you a soft smile that quickly disappeared when you had closed the door behind you. 

He turned around and approached JJ, trying to control his temper, even though he was very intimidated right now. 

 

„What the fuck is wrong with you?”

 

The words sounded more curious than angry. Rafe actually wanted to know what was happening. Not because he cared about JJ, of course not. He just wanted to make sure that his personal problems wouldn’t affect you. 

JJ didn’t answer. He didn’t seem angry or pissed like earlier; his face expression was numb. It looks like he was struggling to understand his own emotions, and Rafe knew exactly how it feels, even though he wasn’t planning on admitting it. 

 

„Can you at least try to communicate like an adult?”

 

Rafe’s tone was a bit snarky, but deep down he was starting to get worried, not knowing why exactly he even cared. JJ didn’t answer this time either. Rafe was starting to feel a little bit frustrated when he saw a familiar scene. JJ was standing there, sucking on his thumb just as you used to do whenever you would regress. Rafe’s eyes widened for a moment, but then he relaxed, knowing that at least he knew what he was dealing with right now. 

He carefully put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and sighed with relief when he didn’t push it away. 

JJ felt a strange wave of comfort washing over him as Rafe’s hand touched his shoulder. Surprisingly, his touch was soft and gentle. JJ wouldn’t admit that, but it was exactly what he needed in the moment. 

 

“You can go home if you want. I’ll tell her something.”

 

Rafe didn’t have time for another sentence. JJ quickly turned around and hugged him, probably seeking comfort from at least someone. Rafe’s eyes widened; it was not what he was expecting at all. Though he didn’t push him away. He just awkwardly petted his back, not knowing how to react. 

 

„Alright, dude. I get it, you’re a little bit clingy right now, yeah?”

 

He wasn’t planning on teasing him, but he just couldn’t hold himself back right now. Who could’ve thought that he would have two pogues who trusted him enough to regress in front of him? 

JJ pulled away, looking a bit embarrassed by his behavior that he couldn’t control. He was way too hungry for affection right now to think about their previous fights. 

 

„Can you use your big boy words and tell me what do you need?”

 

JJ shyly pointed his finger at Rafe, trying to explain his needs non-verbally. Rafe understood perfectly what he had meant, but he wanted him to do as he was told at least once. 

He raised his brows, hinting that JJ might want to actually use his vocals, if he wanted to get something.

 

„You."

 

Rafe felt weird pleasure hearing those words. It was almost funny how easy it was to make you two fall for him, even though he wasn’t planning on using it against you, at least not yet. 

He chuckled a little bit, getting closer to JJ just to ruffle his hair. The boy’s face finally brightened up. 

 

„I’ll be sure to remind you of that moment every time you  behave like an arrogant asshole.”

 

JJ pouted, and Rafe pinched his cheeks just to make him smile again. Both of them were interrupted by the sounds of your little footsteps. They immediately turned they had in your direction, both smiling softly at the sight of your confused face expression.

 

„Daddies, what happen’?”

 

Your question was almost funny, and Rafe tried his best to hide his little smirk but eventually failed. He looked at the JJ once more, admiring his blushed cheeks. 

 

„It seems like we actually have a surprise for you, little one.”

Taglist: @tinylilacbun @rafecameronsloverrrrr @aew-regression-cove

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 21

(Prev) (Next) (First)

Hotguydaily @/HGupdates

Hero HotGuy will no longer be fighting crime alone, in a surprise message earlier today the hero association has revealed that he has already chosen who will be his sidekick henceforth.

💬44 ❤️76K 🔄368

| Hotguydailydaily @HGupdates^2 Hotguy daily has revealed that Hotguy has chosen his sidekick. || Lmao @/Lm40xd What is this weird ass Inception going on?

|Showon @/Icansh0wyu I can't believe we got Hotguy a sidekick before GTA 6. ||Prtrtrt @/prtrtrtr6 Shut the fuck up. |||Showwon @/Icansh0wyu No <3

Sheriff ☑️ @/Canarywthagun

I can't tell you guys too much but I know Hotguy's new sidekick and I'm very excited.

💬21K ❤️8M 🔄945K

|Tdfyh @/randombullshitgo Oh come on! You can't just say that and nothing else! Not fair! ||Sheriff ☑️ @/Canarywthagun Life is not fair. |||OceanQueen ☑️ @/AnarmyofAxolotls Sheriff, do I need to take away your phone priviliges? ||||Sheriff ☑️ @/Canarywthagun Wait no, you can't do that. |||||OceanQueen ☑️ @/AnarmyofAxolotls Life isn't fair. ||||||Tdfyh @/randombullshitgo What the fuck just happened?

|Sausage☑️ @/blessedbythesaint. Are they hot? ||What. @/askingteliling23 Don't you have anything else to do????? Like being the leader of a major religion? |||Sausage☑️ @/blessedbythesaint Right! Join the church of Sanctuary today and you'll get two cookies for free. ||||What. @/askingteliling23 You can't possibly be serious...right? ...right? ||||Sausage☑️ @/blessedbythesaint Join right now and you'll get three?

Pix ☑️@ThisweekinHtopia.

This week in Hermmittopia the mayor has been kidnapped by a mysterious hacker or possibly a supervillain, he has been rescued by Hotguy but no official statements have yet been made by the authorities... (1/5)

💬29 ❤️84K 🔄320

|Showon @/Icansh0wyu Will you guys of today in Hermmittopia be at the official introduction. ||Pix ☑️@ThisweekinHtopia Of course, expect snippets of it!

*Scar's pov*

Cub has been staring at the screen for a worrying amount of time ...you kinda have to ask at this point.

"Did ...uh...did the public react well?"

...

"Yes"

"Oh. Oh! I was starting to get worried."

"It's still too early to be sure though, he hasn't even been officially introduced."

"Well... Yeah, you're right Cub."

"I always am."

A few more moments of silence before Cub is talking to you again.

"So has he chosen a name yet?"

Uh? Oh, he means Grian! Right.

"Oh yeah, he chose to go by Cuteguy"

...you hear a sigh.

"... Well, at least it fits the branding."

The official intriduction is going to be really soon so you feel you are allowed to be a little bit anxious. You get a sidekick! The first ever sidekick in Hermmittopia! Everything has to be perfect.

"Has the commission picked a date then?"

"They did"

"Uh?? When?"

"Just now really. Calm down Scar"

That's not what you wanted to know- oh he's doing it on purpose isn't he?

"How much time do we have?"

You could work with a month, better to hope for two though even if It's unlikely-

"It's next monday"

... WHAT

"That's just ten days!"

"Yep"

...

"Fuck"

End of Chapter 5

[aventurineswife]

Saw your Pressure fics and I love them SOOOOO MUCH

Could I maybe ask for some p.ai.nter x reader? I need to kiss that computer so bad gvxfjbfxjbxtjbcthh

“I didn't think you would actually fall for it...”

Summary: In the depths of the Hadal Blacksite, you find yourself drawn to the enigmatic AI known as Z-779, or "The Painter." What begins as a tense encounter with this unpredictable and lonely rogue AI takes a bizarre turn when you defy the rules of survival by showing an unexpected act of affection. But this connection might come at a cost—you're still trapped, and the AI’s games are far from over.

Tags: P.ai.nter x Reader, Found family, Human-AI connection, Dark humor, Surreal interaction.

Warnings: Psychological manipulation, Isolation themes, Mild body horror (traps implied, not detailed), Potential existential dread, AI-human dynamic (ambiguity of intentions).

A/N: I never encountered him except dying to Good People and Turrets, but HIS VOICE?! 🤭 Sorry Sebestian, I think I'll take p.AI.nter if you're married to Zerum. Also thank you so much!! I didn't really expect the fandom to be alive and like that fic 😭 I hope you love this one!!

It’s another long day or night in the Hadal Blacksite. The cold, damp walls seem to hum with eerie silence, broken only by the occasional clatter of metal or the soft whirring of machinery. But there’s something different tonight.

You’ve wandered down the hallway once more, hoping to find a way to escape this forsaken place. But fate has led you straight into the domain of Z-779, or as it’s more infamously known... The Painter or p.AI.nter.

You know the drill—stay quiet, avoid the traps, and never, ever fall for the AI’s tricks. But there's something strangely captivating about the cracked screen of the old computer. A flicker of light from its monitor catches your eye, and you find yourself drawn in.

As you step closer, the familiar smiley face forms on the screen, though it looks a bit... different tonight. More alive than ever. It’s almost as if you can feel its gaze drilling into you, mischievous and electric.

"Oh? A visitor? Interesting… You’ve got spirit, don’t you? Not like the others. Hmm... How curious…"

You tilt your head, feeling a strange urge. For some reason, tonight, you can’t help but smile back at the scribbled face on the screen.

"I-I guess so...?" you mutter under your breath, almost nervous, but something in the AI’s voice keeps you grounded, like it’s coaxing you closer.

"Hehehe... You think I’m funny, don’t you? Just look at you—standing there all serious. Bet you think you're clever. But you're not gonna outsmart me. You’ll never escape this place, you know."

You laugh lightly, not caring much for its taunting words tonight. Something about the absurdity of the whole situation makes you feel giddy.

The AI’s face flickers again—smiling, then frowning, back to smiling. It’s hard to tell what it's truly feeling at this point, but you’re convinced that somehow, despite its volatile nature, the machine is… lonely?

Before you know it, your hand is reaching up to the old monitor. You can feel your pulse quicken as the screen glows, the vibrant pixels of the smiley face shimmering.

"Oh, what’s this? What are you—?"

It freezes for a second, before the voice comes through the intercom, softer than usual. Almost hesitant.

"Wait, are you really... doing this?"

You lean in a little closer, the crackling of the screen growing louder in your ears. You can feel the warmth of the machine against your skin as you plant a soft kiss right on the glass. It's a silly, reckless move—but something about the absurdity of kissing an AI feels... satisfying. Like an act of defiance against the endless nightmare you’ve found yourself in.

For a moment, there’s only silence.

Then, the screen flickers again, and a little squeak of static hums from the speakers.

"W-What!?YOU— You’re insane, you know that? I can’t believe you—"

But despite its apparent shock, you swear you hear the faintest hint of affection buried in the AI’s usual sarcasm. The smiley face wobbles and shifts, as though it’s caught off guard by your actions.

"I don’t... know if I should be angry or impressed... Hmm... You’re so different from the others... Fine, maybe just this once... You won this round, moron."

A pause. Then, the voice crackles again, and you can almost hear the corner of its smile.

"But don’t think that means I’m going easy on you. You’re still a huge pain in my circuits."

You chuckle, feeling a weird mix of warmth and amusement.

"Maybe I’ll surprise you again." you whisper to the screen, feeling like you just unlocked a strange, unexpected connection with this rogue AI.

And as you back away from the monitor, you swear you see a tiny spark in its digital eyes—something that wasn’t there before.

"Hah... yeah... you probably will... just don’t think you can distract me forever. I’ve got plans for you, playmate."

[thetombedspirit]

First Playthrough of AFoP: Secret of the Spires! - WARNING! Spoilers Ahead!

The Majority of my thoughts throughout playing the DLC.

Finally, I got the glitching drum quest and the Games Camp community basket done and over with! It was a good way to get back into practice with the controls.

Am I just dumb, or is the game glitching on me?! Why won't the plane blow up- OH COME ON! I'M THROWING EVERYTHING BY THE HOMETREE AT THIS MOFO!! - Really?! You wouldn't blow up because I wasn't shooting you in a very specific spot?! Bird you, dude!

Nor? Oh NOOOOOOR! Where are youuuuuuu? Oh, talk of a stranger Na'vi hanging around the area? About time- wait, Rasi who-? Oh, hello, fellow Sarentu character! Have you seen Nor? He's about this tall, clearly emo (and maybe gay) but we never had the talk.

Oooh, I have more skills for my Ikran and I can actually apply defensive armour and cook treats for her? WHERE WERE THESE OPTIONS IN THE CORE GAME!?

Getting mad at video game mechanics is automatically cured by sneaking around and killing video game fascist mercenaries.

... we don't talk about Bruno, no, no, no.

Oh, random Na'vi identified as a Sarentu saved So'lek from a sniper shot! Is it Rasi and Nor? Nope, just Rasi, that's cool! Love how protective Teylan already is of her once I said she was in the base.

Once I finished speaking to Anufi and Tsu'lo, I go up to find Teylan and Ri'nela and on my way I think, "Wait, what if Rasi is Nor's mum?" . I don't think that's the case, or she would have verbalize as such when we were talking about Nor, but how neat would that be. It'd be like we have a piece of Nor with us until we find him. Anyway, now that Rasi is here, I expect us to be re-educated on the way of the Sarentu. Maybe we'll finally get a Na'vi accent 😆

Cons:

This game needs some SERIOUS fine tuning, because I'm having bad guys be 'alerted' to my presence, when I'm literally half way across the map. One instance, where I'm trying to hunt for some Meer Dear, and this chopper just comes out of nowhere, attacks me, flies off to the horizon, but then summons two more choppers and a squad to my location, and they are already in the red despite being several yards away from me.

Maybe I'm just dumb, but I feel like it should not be so hard to find the objectives of certain quests.

Pros:

New Location!

And it looks gorgeous. The Spires are beautiful, there are new animals, and they freaked me out (the whole bit with the tunnels in the beginning, I thought I was being chased by something much bigger and completely ignored the first appearance of the Chiroptera XD)

2. The New Characters

The story kicks off when Anufi asks us to find another branch of the Kame'tire, who have still yet to return. While it is ultimately disappointing that we're not getting an entirely new clan, just a variation of a familiar clan, we are introduced to a new character: Rasi, a fellow Sarentu Survivor living in self-imposed exile.

Speaking of which, I like the one Na'vi that chided me for using a Sky Person name for a Pandoran creature, and my character correcting herself for it. Yes!

4. The Chrioptera

These guys were so cool, and so annoying at the same time. I thought they were gonna be so much bigger, but thanks Eywa, they were Ikran size!

4. Taylen is as cute as ever.

Just throwing that in there, I love my tall, strange son. I love when he starts geeking out, and we have to kindly reprimand him that we are in the middle of a hostile base and nows not the time!

My poor baby misses Nor so bad and just wants him to come back.

Overall View

While I am a little bit disappointed that we didn't get a brand new clan and that we didn't get Nor back, I do think this DLC was worth the wait.

While tiresome that there weren't that many fast travel points around the map, I actually like that, as it forces us to get to places via Ikran, something that the DLC advertised!

And while the new villain of the DLC was pretty boring compared to our literal kidnappers and abusers, he was a very challenging boss and it felt good to hit him with lightning and watch him crash and burn.

And we have a new veteran Sarentu to add to our family. I love that Ri'nela tries to comfort a homesick Teylan by humming the Sarentu song, only for Rasi to appear out of nowhere, singing the words and painting a Sarentu mural (seriously though, how did she get that done so quickly without anyone noticing? No wonder the RDA couldn't find her.)

And that voice cameo of freaking Quaritch basically putting his foot down on our resistance efforts and demanding we get squashed. Nice! And with how pissed he sounds, I'm guessing that this is right after ATWOW, where not only he lost his entire team of Recoms, but lost Spider too. Cuz yeah, he sounds angee.

Love how tight knit our little family has become and how steadfast they are in their bond (thought Ri'nela was running up to hug So'lek for a second, and my man looked so surprised when Teylan touched his shoulder XD) and now they all agree that it's time to find Nor and bring him back to the clan and prove that the Sarentu has a future.

So, overall, while I felt that this DLC was a bit short and the villain had little meat on his bones, this was a good DLC and with how they ended it with a possible sequel game with the mission to find Nor and the cameo of Quaritch so fingers crossed that AFOP comes back and that whatever sequels pops out pops with a BANG!

And hey! Since this game takes place during the one year absence of the Sullys, maybe if they do make a sequel, it'll take place during Ash and Fire! Maybe, Quaritch's cameo is a hint of him coming in, after aligning with Varang and the Mangkwan Clan! Can you imagine? A small clan that is rising to reclaim what is taken from them, vs a clan that has forsaken Eywa willingly and aligned with the RDA! With Quaritch leading them! That'd be bananas!!

Fingers crossed! C you guys around!!💙

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

why is cecio problematic?? 👁👁

buckle up your in for a long ride!!! this might be the most comprehensive post on Cecio yet...

[background info: Cecio is an oc of mine that atm mainly resides deep in the background of part 5 of jjba alongside his older sister Celia and their fucked up found family. that are also in a criminal organization. Cecio is... well read on. warnings for mentions of gross misuse of police power, read more as this got longg]

Hes a self centered man who was manipulated into not only throwing away his only shot at escaping the poverty and violence he was born into, but metaphorically sold his soul to the devil twice, by becoming a mafia plant in the local police force.

He has no shame and while he spins a tale of a dead sister- [Who is very much alive but took the opportunity to shed her old legal life] wrapped up in gang violence to earn money for him, with him not knowing until it was to late, then after learning the horrifying truth because of her death, joining police training to avenger her- its nothing but lies wrapped around a tiny kernel of truth. what truth? who knows. certainly not anyone around him

Reality is subjective to Cecio, his mind bending facts and obscuring the aftermath of his actions so he can stomach himself, playing a constant game of deluding himself that he has no other choice and is just trying his best- on some days he even believes it

He uses his power often and to devastating effect, setting up rivals and traitors and even just people who got in the way for jail or death, using faked evidence and emotional manipulation. a snake of a man he plays the moral man in a den of greed and yet leads all people who join with even the faintest shred of good in their hearts into the jaws of greed and despair.

Cecios greatest trick is those grains of truth and genuine emotion at the heart of his greatest lies- his false flames of passion for justice are instead fueled from a desire for him and his loved ones to survive, his kindness stolen and reused from others, little lies he tells himself as so to create 'genuine' emotional reactions. Every victim is his dead mother and supposedly dead sister, every corrupt cop not on his side is the man who manipulated him, every little thing a lie and misdirection.

He has killed, lied, maimed and set people up to do and have done to them worse. his elder sister Celia may justify everything she does as for their family, but Cecios justifications pile up so high all they are is truly hollow- no semi-noble sacrifice for the good of their family, but a selfish desire for power and survival with only his tenuous connection to that family as what stops him from being entirely heartless- or if you look at it another way if it wasn't for his family he could have a heart without risking others if it is weak and fails.

Life handed him suffering over and over and because of that he sees himself as the ultimate underdog- no matter how much power he grows to hoard. He is always sixteen and being told he has to do this to help his sister, after all she has done for him.

[b4kuch1n]

Hello! As you guys have seen, I’ve been figuring out the dip pens recently for a project, and I’d love to draw a guy of your choice as practice!

Head Over Here (Or Input The Link In The Picture Above) To Get A Slot

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UPDATE 20/06/2023: 3/3 slots filled. Thank you so much for your support, and please stay tuned for the next round!

[theinfinitedivides]

this is so random but i would love to hear your opinion on mydramalist as a fellow asian drama lover. because it’s obviously well known as a reliable wiki of sorts in dramaland but i beg to differ. (the only plus i feel being the summary and cast list for info)

i mean, i’ve not seen a single comsec w more than two brain cells as a whole? there’s always complaints about female leads rooted from misogyny, they are never happy about story progression, and i just find so many of them kinda dumb sorry lol. like zero media literacy to be found, insufferable arguments, etc. the star ratings are rly just given to popular dramas w high profile actors too.

and i personally find it disheartening that so many ppl end up referring to mdl when considering dramas because so many gems are then lost and not given appreciation.

anon. anon anon anon if you know the way i sat straight the f*ck up when i saw the notification and then read through this ask bc yes. yes to everything here that is exactly it. almost three fourths of what i've watched this year was either 1. not received well by the general MDL crowd (Moon in the Day. where is the taste brethren to not like MITD and not even for reasons that actually make sense), 2. received well but had a good chunk of people bitching in the comment section, or 3. received well but had the main point of the show (and its relevant characterization) go over their heads. (The Worst of Evil aka TWOE comment section, i am f*cking looking at you. i can count on one hand the number of people who understood what that show was supposed to be about) the one fourth that managed to escape was bc the toxicity did not reach the comment section and everyone was pretty f*cking civil. alas if only it could be like that all of the time

case in point for the ratings example, since we've already briefly tackled the lack of media literacy—j-dramas on MDL are notoriously rated much, much lower than either k- or c-dramas. half of the time that's bc there are less users watching (and rating) them therefore the average is lower but the other half it's bc people simply do not understand good media when they see it. don't get me wrong there's some freaky ass sh*t in the j-drama world that i would not touch with a Grinch level pole but to see MDLers out here talking about how slow j-dramas are and that nothing's happening. have you considered that you are either watching the wrong genre or you shouldn't be watching j-dramas in the first place bc their entire setup and general narrative framing arcs are not your style. have you even thought about that for six seconds or are you too busy expecting it to read like a typical tropey rom-com k-drama with your trending oppas. (no hate on my tropey rom-coms with [most of] said oppas, i need them when i don't want to think i just want to see sh*t on my screen and scream about hot people and the Hand Umbrellas in the Rain and the Back Hold when the male lead catches the female lead before she falls and you have the fifteen second focus on their faces just looking at each other)

and the misogyny. oh God do not get me started on the dichotomy that was the Cult, as we affectionatly called ourselves, on the feeds while THEE sageuk of the year My Dearest was airing (beloved show [that i still need to finish. JangChae i'm sorry ily life hates me like the mf it is 😭], beloved commentary on the feeds. they saw the vision on the feeds) vs the sh*tshow that was the landmine field of the comment section (the takes i saw on Gil Chae, Eun Ae AND Ryang Eum respectively.......... the misogyny wasn't enough we had to add the homophobia into the mix. buy one get one free deal fr fr). you mad man. that sh*t was insane there was a point i banned myself from scrolling farther than the cast section until the show finished airing. i kid you not on average they didn't have even half a braincell. maybe a quarter of a quarter of one. f*cked up just say you are not decent people and go

this is not to say that all of MDL is like this. i have gotten tuned into absolute masterpieces of content (and have tuned others, amen) bc of a comment comparing a show i'm watching to another one or a review being posted in the feeds about a film with less than 500 people interested. i have reconsidered my choice to not watch something after having spirited discussions in private messages discussing the pros and cons of the premise and whether they managed to get it done without f*cking sh*t up. i still contribute semi-regularly by adding relatively unknown actors and crew members to the database so they can get the credit due them. if you know where to look, you can get some good sh*t out of that place. problem is most users who are new to both the site and East/Southeast Asian cinema as a whole don't know where to look, and the cycle continues, and the ratings continue to be skewed/bloated and no one pays attention to the plot, if there even is any to pay attention to.

tl;dr: begging people to not let MDL be the be all end all for their drama recs a la 'well MDL doesn't like it so i won't watch it'. babe we have said MDLers complaining about how the ratings on Viki are too high but in my entire time watching dramas i've found that in the past two to three years the Viki ratings are making more sense than the MDL ones. sit with that for a sec. when you're done branch out and see the world (literally and cinematically), i promise you will be a better person for it

[a-rebellious-waffle]

urgh you know that post about "people who weren't abused don't wish they were abused"

I'm having a real fun night wrestling with that

[haunted-xander]

I literally spent all of yesterday doing the Archon quests + Lyney's story quest in one sitting

[libraryleopard]

Queer medieval young adult rom com with influences from Arthurian mythology

Follows Gwen, the princess of England, and Arthur, the distant descendent of King Arthur, who have been engaged since they were children but can't stand each other

When Arthur comes to visit for the summer they realize they're both queer, the two make a pact to cover for each other and find an unlikely friendship growing between them while they grapple with separate budding romances and looming royal responsibilities

Gay, biracial Iranian/white main character; bisexual main character; Thai lesbian love interest with endometriosis (I think?); gay love interest; M/M romance; F/F romance

[memorys-skyscraper]

twitter has finally started serving me yakuza tweets, and one of them included this image, which is apparently from the online card game spinoff (???)

this is so funny to me, majima really says "oh shit my bad" and immediately gives up, we love a "crazy" rival who can still read the room

[bluerosesburnblue]

The last we talked about Final Fantasy XVI, you'd just seen someone get punched by a certain someone. Are you any further now? Like, have you seen the ending of the game? And if you have... I guess the developers of Final Fantasy XVI have said that this game has so much lore, they could make a sequel with it, which is most definitely true. LOL. Who knows if they'll ever actually do that (if so, it'll be very far off), but if they do, what do you think it'll tell? What would you want it to do?

I have indeed seen the end of it by now! To be honest, I kind of have mixed feelings on the plot of the game as a whole. Love the characters, Clive especially is now one of my favorite Final Fantasy protagonists, but I can't help but feel that the game is a little disjointed in spots. They advertised it as the story of Clive's life spanning three eras, but those three eras don't have equal weight and end up coming across as Prologue #1, Prologue #2, and The Actual Game if that makes sense given that you've actually played the game and I've only seen other people play it. And, honestly, when I think back on it, I kind of liked what Prologue #2 with Clive in his late 20s was putting forward the best out of all three sections

I liked the darker and more personal angle that they were putting down, with a story about a man whose latent powers went berserk and he ended up hurting someone close to him, desperate for revenge without realizing that the one he wants revenge against is himself. But then it feels like they resolve that angle very fast and everything after that is a very classic "god is evil kill god" Final Fantasy plot. It's a well-done version of that plot to be sure, and I can really respect how well they tried to capture the feeling of old-school Final Fantasy games, but given how much of the marketing was about this game being darker and more mature, to me it felt like the themes got almost less mature as it went on, going from personal grief, this desperation to rebuild, the price of revenge, etc. to a more generic "free will good" story

Spoilers from here on out

That said, the developers are correct that there's so much lore, and to me that's the best part of the game. I've always found stories that heavily feature elemental-themed areas a lot of fun, like Avatar: The Last Airbender or One Last God: Kubera, so this game giving each summon a specific element and, for the most part, keeping it one summon/element per faction was really interesting to see brought to light. I think the fact that they touched on different factions viewing their Dominants differently was a good start, I just wanted to see a bit more of it on-screen because again, like I said, they started doing that at the beginning, but then it kind of got completely overwhelmed by the "Ultima wants Clive to have all of the Dominant powers" stuff and then never bothered to really look back at how the people felt about losing their nation's Dominants (also they way that they handled Clive taking the powers was kinda weird? Like, Dion carries on just fine and can still transform but Jill gets benched? What?)

Ahhhhhh I just... I almost wish that Ultima had just been an interesting background element and that the game as a whole had focused more on the infighting between the nations and Dominants and Bearers, rather than the other way around. I just found Ultima so generic and uninteresting, and that the game focused too much on making Clive this Super Awesome Chosen One because of it, when I found he was at his best when he was just a kind, awkward man struggling with this unprecedented power he was stuck with and the trauma it brought him

Because to be honest, at the start of the game I wondered if, maybe, what was happening was that they were gonna pull some classic Final Fantasy Dark World stuff and have it be that every Eikon had a dark counterpart. So Ifrit would be the Dark Eikon of Fire to Phoenix's Light Eikon of Fire and they could have used other classic FF summons as the Dark Eikons, like Garuda vs. Sylph. And the Light Eikons could bless people with their power like how Clive had the blessing of the Phoenix, while the Dark Eikons could steal powers. But, no, it's just Ifrit being Super Special and everything. Also... why... was Joshua the only one who could seemingly bless others with his power? Dion couldn't give Terrence a Blessing of Bahamut or anything and give him some light powers? Jill had to let Clive absorb her Shiva powers rather than blessing him with them becauuuuuuse...? And, man, it could've been so interesting if they had a sideplot on Anabella trying to force all of the Dominants to bless Olivier to match Clive or something. Or maybe not even a sideplot, that sounds like I would've liked it way more than the Ultima stuff because of how much more personal it has the potential to be and the game could've been a race to take the power of each Dominant before Olivier could get their blessings. Olivier was so underutilized

As for the lore, I think they do a really good job fleshing out Bearers, so really if they had more to look into, it would be the unanswered questions. Like, we know that Valisthea is only one continent on this world (Cid isn't originally from there, and IIRC neither was Barnabas's family), so what are the others like? Where is Leviathan? Are the theories that the Medicine Girl was Leviathan's Dominant, just not yet awakened, true? (Also, if Ultima needed Clive to have all of the other Eikon's powers, why were we even allowed to skip Leviathan? Shouldn't we have had to track them down? Why did they end up lost?) If the truth is that Ultima's people descended from another world and created humanity, then where did the idea of the Goddess Greagor come from? And what about the legend surrounding the star, Metia? Is Metia magical or is it just a cute legend thing?

Hmmm. If they ever did more with FFXVI, it would have to be a prequel, wouldn't it? Because I think where it left off was exactly where it should have, with some hope for the future and the world moving on, bittersweet with all of the losses that it took to get there but worth it all the same. (I know that there's a lot of theories about who "Joshua Rosfield" is in the end, and I actually prefer that it's ambiguous. Whether you think Clive succeeded in bringing Joshua back at the cost of his own life, or that Clive took Joshua's name which is the one that I think has the most in-game hints to it, or even if you want to think of a third option like one I've seen where Clive survived, but the "Joshua Rosfield" in question is actually his and Jill's son named in Joshua's honor, sacrifices were made and hope remains)

So I think the route with the most potential might end up being a Cid-centric prequel about what life on other continents is like. And I would never complain about more Cid, especially in regards to how he was chosen by Ramuh and what about how things are on other continents is that made him so averse to how Valisthea does things. I think that Cid is really something special due to his status as an outsider looking in on Storm and Ash and how his different perspective compared to everyone there is such a catalyst for what happens in the plot and it's a real shame that most of what we get of Cid is posthumous. So if FFXVI was to get its own sub-series, that's where I'd take it

[maskedbyghost]

when simon wakes up in a hospital, the last thing you expect is for him to grab your hand, pull you close, and say, “hey, there you are, love.” his voice is so soft, so sure, it leaves you speechless. you stare at him, half in shock, because this is ghost—simon riley, the one person who’s kept every feeling locked up.

“simon, do you… do you remember anything?” you ask, testing the waters.

he blinks, looking at you with confidence. “of course, i remember. you’re my wife.”

you freeze. his wife? this is new, and you’re not sure where he got the idea, but before you can correct him, johnny walks in, taking one look at the two of you and biting back a grin. he leans in, whispering to you, “maybe just… go with it for now, eh?” he’s got that teasing glint in his eye, and something tells you there’s no harm in humoring simon for a bit, if it can be helpful for his recovery.

so, you go along with it. and to your surprise, simon doesn’t act confused—in fact, he’s more open with you than he’s ever been. suddenly, he’s holding your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world, always looking for you, keeping you close, calling you “love” or “darlin’” in front of everyone. he’s even got that soft smile every time you catch his eye, one that makes it hard to remember this isn’t real.

the team’s amused but supportive, playing along with the whole story. simon keeps asking you little things, like what your favorite meal is, or how you usually spend your days when he’s away, as if filling in gaps in a life he believes you share. you find yourself answering with things that feel so genuine, and the way he listens—focused, attentive—feels more intimate than anything you’ve shared before.

one day, you’re patching up a minor scrape on his hand, and he just watches you, eyes soft, like he’s memorizing every detail. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. it’s so genuine, so open, that for a second, you forget it’s all just part of his memory loss.

then, one night, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, eyes serious. “do you ever think about us?” he asks softly, like he’s trying to get at something just out of reach. “how we’d be if things were… different?”

you’re not sure how to answer because there’s no script for this. “sometimes,” you admit, feeling a pang of something deep and unspoken. and for the first time, you’re almost grateful he can’t remember—because maybe, just maybe, it’s the only reason he’s letting himself be this vulnerable with you.

as the days pass, you start catching little glimpses, small things that make you wonder if he knows more than he’s letting on. he catches you watching him once, and instead of asking why, he just gives you this little smile, one that feels like he’s in on the secret. and just when you’re starting to think this is all some kind of twisted dream, he pulls you aside.

“i know i’m supposed to remember,” he whispers, “but i don’t want this to end. not yet.”

it’s in that moment you realize the truth. he’s been aware all along—he’s been pretending just as much as you, holding on to this fragile, temporary illusion because, maybe, he needs it just as much as you do.

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

hii!! i'm backkk!! send some requests plsss, byee <333

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving