#this is just an extension of that shit that happened like two years ago

[freebooter4ever]

you know when there is one person you need to have a fight with (my dad) but you cant so you find yourself subconsciously picking fights with other people -_-

yeah i need to stop that

[vantetaes]

SPOILED BRAT 🫧🥂

SUGARDADDY!CONNIE! X SPOILED!BLACKFEM!READER

SUMMARY!!! connie tells yn no

WARNINGS!!! overstimulation, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, implied ‘age gap’, mentions of drug dealing, sex 18+!!

you’d been together with connie for a 6 years at this point. the two do you did everything together. he always made sure you were straight no matter what.

you’re his woman. his pride and joy. his headache.

just today: he’d taken you to brunch to help recover for your god awful hangover acquired by spending the night before taking shots of don julio with your friends. he took you to the hair store, buying you new bundles for the season change, then payed for the install. taking you to lunch after your hair was done. deciding you were getting tired of walking, you requested one last lap around the mall, which ultimately ended with connie wanting to see your nails a different color and a new set of lashes.

you’ve been gifted birkins, 24 karat bracelets, trips out of country just because, and even receiving a maybach for getting through your first year of college. everything you ever wanted, he made sure you got. no if, ands, or buts.

bouncing on the tippy toes of your pretty pink chanel slippers. the fresh white pedicure compliments the white lettering on your shoes. your eyes glaze over the stores extensive amount of new products. you wonder in awe as connie walked behind you, carrying your bags while his face is buried in his phone.

“oo! they have the two piece i’ve been wanting!” only hearing the paddling of your shoes, connie barely has time to look up before you and a PINK store associate were talking about the newly released thong set.

“you want it?” he asks simply, hand caressing the small of your exposed back.

“no i already have too much!” you shake your head, your fresh set of lashes batting against your face as you eyed the clothing. connie’s hand flags down the worker from earlier.

“can we get all if the color for this set, medium.” he places a few hundreds in the woman’s hands before she scurries off to fulfill the purchase.

“thank you, baby.” you giggle , giving him a small kiss on the cheek. the strawberry scented lipgloss leaves a transparent pink path on his face. which stays there. before you could bring up the fact that you were eyeing one more thing in the store, connie’s ringtone went off. he peers down before gazing back at you. placing a quick kiss to your lips, he slides away.

“give me one second, baby.”

he basically stormed out of the store, face twisted up.

from your view through the glass it looked like someone fucked something up. connie’s tattooed had runs across his head, sighing into the phone before shaking his head a final time, hanging up.

once he returned, the worker rushes a few bags over and the left over money from the exchange.

“keep it. ♡︎, let’s go.” he takes the bags carefully before heading for the exit. his tone was firm but still gentle enough that you didn’t feel offended.

-

finally back home, washing every piece of clothing you got today, you noticed your fiance was a little quieter than usual.

changing into something a little more comfortable, you walk out into the large penthouse living room.

“what’s wrong?” you quiz. his head shoots up from its resting position on his hand to shake his head.

“nothing princess. just some stuff i have to go handle in a few, you good?” he asked concerned.

“yeah you’ve just been like.. preoccupied away from me all day today! i just want some attention. can i come with?” the long red fur lined robe moved swiftly against your exposed brown skin as you did your little begging dance.

“whatchu’ mean i’ve been ignoring you? and not this time, princess. it’s something real important and i can’t risk some shit happening to you. we not finna do this.”

your motion stops as you stare a little dumbfounded. no? no?? jokingly sticking your acrylic inside your ear, wiggling it, pulling your finger back out to check. he got used to the dramatics years ago.

“what do you mean not this time, connie?” you only used his government when you were mad at him.

connie leans back in the leather chair, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watches you from across the room. he’s always been the one to say yes, to pull strings, to make things happen. you’ve always reveled in that—his power, his ability to hand you everything you could ever want, no questions asked. but this time, the look on his face is different.

“not. this. time.♡︎.” he says, his tone firm, his jaw tight.

“you’re joking?” you say, voice sharp, tinged with indignation. a small flabbergasted smile making its way into your face slowly.

he shakes his head, slow and deliberate.

“i’m serious, ♡︎. i can’t do this. not this time.”

for a moment, you’re stunned, the words hanging in the air between you like a challenge. then, like a flame catching kindling, the fury ignites.

“can’t ?” you spit, laughing abruptly, your voice rising. “or won’t?”

he doesn’t flinch. that only makes it worse.

“you’ll do everything else-” you continue, pacing now, your anger spilling out unchecked.

“-you’ll risk everything for everyone else, but the one time i ask for something that matters to me, suddenly it’s a problem?”

“♡︎, it’s not like that.” his voice is calm, measured, and it infuriates you more.

“then what is it like, connie? hm? you basically ignore me all day and now you wanna leave me here?” you shout, spinning to face him.

“because to me, it looks like you’re picking and choosing when i matter.”

he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. you know he hates this side of you, the part that lashes out when things don’t go your way, but right now, you don’t care.

“im saying no because it’s not safe. you don’t see the bigger picture.” he says, his voice hardening slightly.

“don’t give me that fucking bullshit!” you scoff, crossing your arms.

“you think i don’t know what you’re wrapped up in? you think i don’t know how you make all this happen?” you gesture around, the designer bags, the jewelry, the life he’s built for you.

his silence speaks volumes, and it only fuels your rage.

“yn. im being polite with you. please don’t start this shit. and watch your fucking mouth, mama. im being calm.” his eyes growing more irritated and narrow. laughing in his face, you turn on your heels, walking back to the bedroom. disappearing down the lengthy hallway. you could hear the slow pads of connie’s feet following after you.

“fine! fuck you! didn’t wanna fucking go anyways.” you huff under your breath, slamming the tall room door behind you.

the man immediately flings the door back open, pointing to the bed.

“sit down. im not fucking asking you.” his jaw clenched tight.

finding yourself crawling onto the white king sized bed, sitting on your knees. the lacey black lingerie set underneath the red fur peeking through.

“what in the hell is wrong with you today, princess?” his voice is growing agitated and upset.

avoiding his gaze, you can only play with the hem of your clothing, ignoring him fully.

“yea we not about to do this shit.”

before you had a chance to react, he was on the bed, pushing your body backwards, and hovering above you.

“why you actin like this, baby, hm?” you couldn’t help but to melt looking at his eyes. everything about how close he is to you is just turning you on. ignoring him again, he’s starting to get fed up.

“im gonna ask you one more time and after, i don’t wanna hear about it.” his right hand held both your hands in front of you and his left was on the outside of your thigh. you could feel his warmth.

“just want attention, daddy.” you mumble, face whipping to the side. his hand shoots up to fix your chin back his direction.

“uhn uhn, speak up.” gently shaking your head side to side, he’s looking at you gently still.

“i want attention. why are you being such a fucking bitch con?”

immediately regretting your choice of words, the man rears up off your body, fixing his shirt and pants. you rush to sit upright, closing the robe, watching as the man put his shoes on.

“baby, you know i didn’t me-“ you start. he just laughs, walking through the open door. chasing behind him, anxiety creeping up your neck.

“baby, im sorry.” your voice barely above a whisper, watching as he grabs his cars keys, then he’s out the door.

-

“just calm down, im sure he’s fine.” mikasa chats on the other end of the phone call. you’re using your other phone to repeatedly dial connie’s number, all chances failing.

“what if he’s not though? he wont even answer!” the salivas getting caught in your throat to think he’s upset with you but who else to blame?

“drink a glass of wine and relax! i just talked to him, he’s fine.” you hear onyankopon on the other side of the line.

“what? how? what did he say?” you couldn’t help but to shove all the questions down his throat.

“chill chill. he’s fine, he said he’s heading back home now. go relax, ♡︎.” the man said on the other end of the line.

“okay thank you, i’ll see you guys later.” the phone beeps off.

making your way to the kitchen, you grab a wine glass. hand skimming over the wall collection you and connie built over the years, you pull out a red wine from italy you got last summer. pouring a generous amount, you decide to just bring the bottle to the living room. waiting for the man to walk through your doors.

cuddled underneath a large white blanket, halfway through a movie, you make it more than halfway through the bottle, unfortunately still slightly sober from anxiety.

until the sound of keys being turned broke you from staring off into space.

he slides in, immediately kicking his shoes off and placing them on the rack. he removes his jacket, hand wiping off some lint from the inside off his shirt. your body jerks into a standing position, blanket laying at your feet.

“baby-“ you start.

“room. now.” he doesn’t even look up at you, he just begins to walk down the hallway. shuffling confused and worried behind him, he turns on a single lamp on his side of the bed.

“lay down.”

crossing your arms, standing firmly.

“not until you tell me where you went and why i couldn’t go!” your lips pull into a line and your eyebrows furrowed.

“lay the hell down. if i have to say it again i swear to god you’ll hate me afterwards.”

still standing firm, you’re unmoved and unwilling. fed up, he walks over to you, his height towers you, throwing you over his shoulder. he tosses you onto the bed, yanking off your robe in the process.

“you want attention? strip.” he begins “and if i have to repeat myself this time, ♡︎, you won’t leave this bed tomorrow.” his jaw gripped tight, words spoken through gritted teeth, he was 100% serious.

without hesitation, you pull the set off with ease. he smiles before digging in his nightstand. pulling out two pairs of fuzzy pink handcuffs and your sleep mask. plopping everything down beside you, you feel his strong hands pick up up from under your arms, pressing your back against the cold bedframe. he reaches behind him, grabbing the supplies. cuffing both your arms to the posts, he gives you a small kiss before covering your eyes.

“connie why are you doing this?” voice unable to hold water, you were a mix of turned on and scared. you knew how he could treat you when he was this angry.

his hand goes back into the nightstand, all you can hear is him place it down beside you. the rattling from his belt being undone causes a reflex in your lower region, clamping your legs closed to gain some kind of traction. you can hear the laugh come from your fiance.

“don’t worry baby, you’re about to get all the attention you wanted.” the sound of his belt buckle hitting the ground followed by the sound of him removing his pants.

before you could try to listen for anything else, all you feel is his lips pressed against your pussy and his hands keeping your knees spread. his tongue licks long strides up and down, from your entrance to the throbbing, swollen bud. his lips pucker around your clit, giving it a few gentle tugs and licks. his hands move close to your core, squeezing every inch of your thighs, humming into your warmth.

“oh- shit con.” moaning, you start to feel a little vibration start to happen. “what’s that-“

he put the vibrator flush against your clit, using his tongue to pump slowly in and out of your clenching hole. flailing against the restraints, you can’t help but to cry out for him.

“please- please daddy, fuck me. im sorry i swear, please.” you feel him pinch the inside of your thigh, causing you to flinch a little.

“don’t tell me what the fuck to do. im gone take you how i want you.” he goes back to abusing your pussy, face covered in your slick and his spit. he’s always been obsessed with eating you. removing one of his hands from your leg, he begins to use his long slender fingers inside while he took turns sucking your clit and then replacing it with the vibrator.

you can’t see anything but little stars floating across the darkness of your eye covering. the intense feeling in your abdomen building up. his fingers slide in and out agonizingly slow, tongue writing love spells on your swollen bud.

“shit connie im gonna- oh fuck!” your body begins to shake as you release. that doesn’t stop him. he continues, his mouth attached to you, unable to pull away.

“that’s my girl. give me some more of that shit, come on baby. this what you wanted right?” his mouth forms an o-shape, licking at the swollen bud while humming. you try to force your knees together, only for him to pin you down into a middle spilt. every inch of you was being sucked, licked, and bitten.

he pulls the vibrator back out, hooking his fingers into you, teasing your g-spot while his other hand switched modes on the wand.

“pretty ass pussy baby. she so wet for me, didn’ even have to do much. yeah, i feel it. make a mess, cum all over my fingers baby.”

the mix of the vibrations, connie’s fingers slowly fucking your hole, and the way he talked to you, you came undone. again. body shriveling up in overstimulation, you can only feel him turn the vibrations off, hoping to be done with this whole thing. you’re already fucked out and a mess.

“fuck baby, youre so filthy for me. but i don’t think im satisfied, ma.” you shake your head a little, knowing that you fucked up. repositioning a pillow under your butt, the man reattaches his lips, going slower than he ever had. mouth frozen in an o shape, you couldn’t help but to cry out.

“it’s too much daddy, be nice!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears, feeling as his warm, wet tongue slowly circles your swollen clit.

“mm- mm.” he offers in a hum, extending his arms up to play with your nipples, tugging gently at them. it seemed like his tongue never stopped moving, sometimes slipping into your clenching hole to collect more of your wetness. the burn in your stomach was intense. you could barely breathe, only pushing out large exhales of air, moans strangled in there alone the string of ‘please’s and ‘fuck’s.

he was eating you like it was a competition and he wanted that fucking gold.

“again, again, connie oh- fuuck.” you’re now full blown crying. the orgasm shaking your body beyond control. the man gently pulls away, softly running his hands around your body. his hands remove your blindfold, wiping some of the fallen tears. the readjustment to light wasn’t too bad but once you saw his face, he just gives you a look.

“im- fine.” you choke out, tears still rolling. he laughs a little, wiping your face before standing and using his should to wipe his.

“im giving you two minutes.”

you swore those two minutes went by quicker than a hellcat in atlanta traffic.

he was now pinning your knees to your ears, dropping his throbbing cock inside you slowly, bottoming out. you let you a cry, in pure bliss. he pulls out quickly, slamming back into you. the sound of sex filled the room.

“pussy so fucking good. taking that shit so good.” he throws his head back, mercilessly pounding into you. he pulls out of you slowly, before pushing back into you. your hands grip at the chains of the handcuffs, bracing yourself for the man’s abuse on your hole. the veins of his cock rubbing the inside of your gummy walls. without warning , you’re squirting all over his dick, making a mess of the bed in the process.

“daddy! i’m sorry!”

“it’s too late for that shit now. let me take these off you.” he reaches up, undoing the cuffs swiftly before tossing them to the side. thinking youre free, you try to roll off the bed, only to be caught by him.

he tosses you over onto all fours, grabbing your arms from your side so your face down into the mattress.

“you know i love you right?” he asks, gripping both your wrists firmly behind your back.

“yes baby i know.” you say, head tilted to the side.

“good cause im about to treat you like i dont.”

slamming into you, he’s relentless. the tip of his cock abusing your poor cervix, digging completely into you. large hands grab hold of your breast, chest stuck in a heavy breathing pattern.

pounding into you, not letting up, you know he’s pissed. trying your hardest to pull away to give yourself so slack, he yanks you back into his length by the wrist.

“nah whatchu’ running for? this what you wanted right? you wanted me to fuck you like this, huh? you gone take this dick.”

he could feel you clenching around him, the slick dripping from your abused hole to to your ass. he could feel how close you were.

“ooo shit, let that shit go baby. imma fucking cum.”

your hands dig into his arms instinctively, eyes rolled to the back of your head, saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth in euphoria. it was so much yet you never wanted it to end. babbling nonsense and hitting connie with the palms of your hand, you release over him, again.

he delivers a few more thrusts, violating your cunt, sopping up every second of being inside you until he’s filling you up.

pulling away from his position, your body lay unmoving.

“was that enough attention for you?” climbing to your side, his large arms pulls you on-top of him. placing gentle kisses to your head, he rubs his hand along your back, giving you a small massage.

“im sorry.”

“shh, it’s all fine now baby.”

connie cleaned the both of you up, tossed the sheets in the wash, replaced them with new sheets he bought while out, and even prepared a small dinner. sitting on the couch, both heads in a silk bonnet, watching love island.

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.

inspo pics

[dark-fics-4-you]

Heyyy saw ur request were open what about dark!rafe catches you talking shit about him to your friends over text???

How a Girlfriend is Supposed to Act

Warnings: noncon, forced sex, domestic violence, choking, slapping, oral (m!recieving), toxic relationship, gaslighting

Despite being with Rafe for almost a year, you had learned all of the quirks that he had when it came to his possessiveness very early on.

The first time you caught him reading your texts, you were surprised by just how nonchalant he was about the entire situation.

He was sitting on your bed after you returned from grabbing the two of you a snack, scrolling through your phone, not even bothering to look up at you until you asked him what he was doing.

“You’re my girlfriend, Y/N.” He said it slowly, like he was reminding you of something you yourself couldn’t possibly forgot. The accusing fire in his gaze made you squirm. “Of course I have the right to look through your phone.”

At first you were too surprised to react. You had never really had a reason to look through Rafe’s phone, but you imagined he wouldn’t be too happy if you did.

“Why the fuck do you look so nervous, huh?” He was starting to sound annoyed, and his eyes were flicking between meeting yours and scanning your phone. “Got something you’re trying to hide from me?”

“What? No, Rafe! I just didn’t expect to find you going through my phone, that’s all.” You explained breathlessly. You didn’t know why he was accusing you of trying to keep secrets from him.

Unfortunately, the last thing that you should have done in that moment was try to snatch your phone away from Rafe.

His hand shot out, tightly gripping your wrist as he dug his fingers into the bone beneath your skin. You cried out in pain and watched as your phone fell onto the bed, before bouncing to the floor.

Your boyfriend was furious now, easily pulling you onto the bed by your wrist and onto your back at a painful angle before straddling you. You struggled beneath him, trying hopelessly to stop him from putting his hands on you

When Rafe slapped you across the face the first time, your ears rang and you swore that your vision went white for a moment.

Every sound became muffled but you could hear Rafe angrily chastising you from above, “dumb bitch. I mean, I pay for your fucking phone, so yeah, you’re not gonna talk back to me when I go through it.”

That was months ago, and you later learned that that wasn’t even the first time that Rafe had gone through your phone.

You weren’t cheating on Rafe, that much was 100% true. The problem was that Rafe’s definition of cheating included behaviors that you knew were not cheating.

Texting your classmate a question about homework turned into a two hour long fight that culminated in Rafe giving you a black eye.

After Rafe saw you had and Topper had sent each other a couple funny posts in instagram dm’s, he choked you so hard you passed out, leaving you to cover up the extensive bruising on your neck around your friends and family to avoid explaining what had happened.

Ever since then you had learned to be careful about who you texted, and if you ever texted anyone Rafe wouldn’t approve or said something that he wouldn’t like, you made sure to delete the conversations.

You were always so diligent in covering your tracks.

Except for the one time you really needed to.

After another argument with Rafe had become physical, once you finally got some space away from him you had texted a friend, vaguely venting your frustrations with him, without revealing too many details to make her suspicious that Rafe was hurting you.

As you shakily typed out the texts you couldn’t help but think back on the fight you had had. After catching a guy staring at you in the club, the moment you returned home, Rafe had been quick to grab you by the throat, pushing you up against the wall before hurling insults at you.

“I mean you dress like such a fucking slut, no wonder I have to chase these guys off. I bet you wanted his attention, didn’t you?” His eyes narrowed as he looked down at you with disgust.

You were so shocked by his outburst you had barely registered the fingers crushed your throat, and you finally gasped for air against his strong hand. “N-no, Rafe!”

His grip tightened as he regarded your fearful eyes, “nah, you always think you can fool me sweetheart but you never can.” His chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his eyes, “I saw you looking at him when we first walked in.”

You shook your head against him, tears gathering in your eyes as you begged with him, “I wasn’t baby-”

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N.” He spat at you, squeezing so hard you were sure you would have deep purple bruises on your neck tomorrow.

“I never should have let you outta the house wearing that dress. You were looking for trouble walking around like that.” Rafe growled, his eyes were ice cold. You knew that he was itching for a fight, and you didn’t want to give him what he wanted.

“I’m sorry,” you struggled to force the words out with such little breath and Rafe finally gave you a respite when he loosened his grip on your throat. “You okayed it before we went out, I thought it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I knew every guy at that bar would be trying to fuck you with their eyes, but I didn’t think you’d be doing the same to them!” The more he spoke, the more pissed off he seemed to be making himself. You knew that he was just convincing himself that his actions were justified.

When he tossed you to the floor, you yelped in pain when your shoulder hit the hard wood. You barely had time to reach for your tender neck before Rafe grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you to look up at him.

“I mean, do you even love me anymore, Y/N?” His voice sounded hurt, and even though this wasn’t the first time he had used this card on you in the middle of putting his hands on you, you couldn’t deny the tug on your heartstrings you had when you looked into your boyfriend’s eyes.

“Of course I do, Rafe!” You insisted, knowing that your enthusiasm was expected and there would be consequences if you didn’t play along.

You were terrified of your boyfriend, and after being with him for so long, you were aware of the ways to deescalate a tense situation. In moments like these you would have said anything to protect yourself.

“Nah, you don’t mean that. You haven’t been yourself lately baby. Always too busy with work to spend time with me and now you’re talking back to me?” He shook his head, tsk-ing as he glared at you disgustedly. “Not to mention, you haven’t been fulfilling all of your duties as my girlfriend.”

You stared at him, puzzled and not understanding his meaning, “what are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?” He repeated back to you in a mocking tone, like he couldn’t believe how dumb you were to not get it. “I mean, it’s been, what, five days since you last let me have sex with you? I have needs, Y/N. And when you can’t just lay on your back and spread your legs for me, you’re being a bad girlfriend.”

His words stung, and you couldn’t tell if the tears in your eyes were because of the large hand tangled into your hair, or because your boyfriend was acting like you owed him sex, like you were in the wrong right now.

“Now you’re gonna make it up to me, because you are really pissing me off right now, and I don’t want to hear any fucking complaints, do you understand?”

Your body was screaming in resistance, but you numbly realized that you were nodding your head. Rafe’s hand left your hair, finding your chin and gripping your jaw hard.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” the sick grin that was spread across his lips told you exactly how much Rafe was getting off on your humiliation right now and you wanted to be sick.

“I understand.” You forced the words past your gritted teeth, swallowing down the bile that threatened to come up.

Rafe unbuttoned his pants before sliding the zipper down and pushing them down his legs before pulling off his boxers as well.

His dick was hard, a bead of precum already pearled at the tip of his intimidating length.

You swallowed nervously, already afraid of how rough your boyfriend was going to be. You felt like you weren’t ready at all, but the sharp pain the bloomed on your cheek after Rafe slapped you told you that you must have hesitated for too long.

“Quit your damn procrastinating, Y/N,” he hissed, tangling his fingers into your hair again and pulling you to his dick, forcing the tip past your plump lips.

You didn’t have any time to be surprised, gagging and choking on him as he pushed himself deeper towards your throat. He groaned at the feeling of your throat squeezing his cock, urging himself further into the back of your mouth.

Rafe was in heaven, basking in the sight of your teary eyes and the ruined mascara that now trailed down your cheeks. You had looked so pretty at the club tonight, but now you were a crying mess. The noises of your gagging and the steady sound of Rafe’s cock hitting the back of your throat filled the space. Nothing had ever made Rafe hornier than seeing your beautiful, tear filled eyes begging and pleading with his.

He reached out to your cheek, wiping up a bit of saliva that had been forced past your lips. Your glassy eyes were unfocused now that you had given up any thoughts of resistance, too cock drunk to try protesting against the stronger man.

You were doing all you could not to gag on him and choke, knowing full well that that would only spur him on. Every time you pushed at his thigh to get him to ease up, he would slap your hand away with an annoyed grunt.

His pace was relentless now, one hand was gripping your hair and the other was at your throat, holding you still so he could push himself deeper.

“That’s right baby, fuck,” he bit back his groans, ignoring your gagging and desperate eyes when he forced himself too far down your throat, literally choking you with his cock. “Oh fuck- god Y/N, you’re better than any sex doll, you know why?”

He knew you couldn’t answer him, especially since he had started thrusting faster past your messy lips, but he still paused to drink in the sight before him.

“Because they can’t fight back,” Rafe sneered, picking up his pace again, reaching a punishing fervor.

The blond’s dick was slamming into the back of your throat while the large hand at your throat squeezed in warning anytime you so much tried to pull back.

He sped up on final time, chasing his high by forcing you to take all of his cock. Rafe held you in place and watched you choke on him for a couple seconds before letting out a low groan and spilling his salty seed down your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow every drop of it.

When he pulled his dick out of your mouth, you took a gasping breath, but weren’t allowed much air before Rafe slapped you across the face hard.

“From now on, I expect this and more from you every night we’re together. Because that’s how my girlfriend is supposed to act. And if you think about giving me any lip about that, then I’m gonna make you wish you had just kept your pretty mouth shut, got it?”

That rest of the night was no better than the beginning, after Rafe had helped you clean up, he basically immediately led you to your bed.

He chuckled in satisfaction when you didn’t fight back against his wandering hands, and as held tight to your wrists, plunging his cock into your slick cunt, he didn’t say anything about the tears rolling down your cheeks.

The next morning you had woken up sore, your entire body ached, and you weren’t surprised when you looked in the mirror and saw the red and purple blooming around your throat.

Rafe was still asleep, his deep snores letting you know that he wouldn’t be waking up soon.

You quietly snuck into the bathroom, grabbing your phone off of the bedside table on the way. Once you had shut and locked the door behind you, you exhaled deeply, unlocking your phone to check for messages.

Your friend had texted you asking how your night had gone, and feeling perhaps a little too honest, you told her that the two of you had had an “argument.”

‘he thought i was checking out a guy at the bar and said some really rude things to me last night.’ You laughed to yourself as you stared at your own words through blurry eyes. It was both funny and sad to you how used to covering for Rafe you now were.

The bathroom felt more cramped when you remembered that Rafe was just on the other side of the door, despite being asleep.

A new notification popped up soundlessly and you read your friend’s text. She was joking about gathering all of your mutual friends to gang up on Rafe.

If only she knew the extent of what Rafe had done to you. You were sure she wouldn’t be joking then. In spite of that, you were angry with Rafe and wanted to blow off a little steam with your friend.

Which is why you felt emboldened to continue texting her.

‘he’s such an asshole sometimes. i’ve been thinking about breaking it off with him soon.’

You huffed, putting your phone down before finishing up in the bathroom and opening the door.

To your surprise, Rafe was standing on the other side, waiting for you to get out before he brushed past you without a word.

You noticed he was taking longer than he usually did to just pee, and when he finally stepped out of the bathroom, you realized with a horrible chill why he had been in there for so long.

Clutched in his hand was your cellphone, and you could see that it was open to the messages you had just sent.

“‘He’s such an asshole, I’ve been thinking about breaking it off??’” His voice was cold and you cringed hearing him speak your words. There was no denying he had read your texts.

You shivered, frozen in place as he stared you down, his blue eyes boring so deep into you that you swore you could feel them burning straight through you.

Your mouth was so dry, you had never felt so afraid of your boyfriend before. Even after everything he had put you through, you had never said anything about breaking up with him to his face. “Rafe, I-”

If your instincts hadn’t kicked in, you would have taken the blow right to your nose, however you had been lucky enough to dodge the phone fast enough that it only nicked your forehead before smashing into pieces against the wall behind you.

Unfortunately, while you had been focused on dodging your phone, the taller man had closed the gap between you, easily pushing you up against the wall by your throat and choking you with both hands. Rafe’s fingers pressed down against the bruises that they had left there the previous night.

You wanted to scream, but Rafe had knocked the wind out of you and no matter how hard you shoved him, he wasn’t giving up.

“You’re mine,” he hissed as you struggled against him. “Maybe I’ve been hitting you too much recently, because I don’t remember you being this stupid when we first started dating.”

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Rafe had spun you around and pushed you face first into the bed. One of his hands was forcing your head against the mattress, while the other pawed at your silk pajama shorts, opting to rip away the fabric covering you before freeing his hard cock from his boxers.

“You think I’m an asshole?” He growled, the tip of his cock brushed against your slick cunt and you shuddered at the feel of him beginning to force himself inside of you.

“I’ll show you how much of an asshole I can be.”

[bbydoll18xx]

Keep the Edits Cordial

A tik tok edit of two best friends coaxes out admissions of feelings (and orgasms)

Paige Bueckers x reader

word count: 3.2k

themes: mutual pining (LOML), friends to lovers, smut!!

warnings: i like using the word ‘fuck’, 18+

Thanks for the love on my first post! This is my first attempt at writing smut, so bear with me. I have a few more ideas if y'all are interested!

Despite not being on the uconn’s women's basketball team, or having any shred of athletic ability, you had befriended Paige Bueckers, and her teammates, as an extension, had adopted you with open arms. So you weren't out of place sitting in the apartment of Paige and several of her teammates while she was in class.

“Oh fuck, shit, shit, shit,” you hear KK Arnold swear over on the couch across from where you were sitting, attempting to get some homework done.

A sensual R&B song plays from her phone several times, as her eyes nearly pop out of her head while she watches.

You look up, mildly annoyed at the noise, but you were used to KK’s antics and her overdramatics. 

“What the hell is the issue?” you ask.

“Umm…nothing,” she drawls. “Be right back, girly pop. Don’t move.” She runs into Azzi’s room, where Azzi and Caroline were attempting to also be productive. 

That was damn near impossible when KK was around.

Your interest peaks as you hear the same music play from KK’s phone again several times over and the giggles and gasps of the three girls fill the bedroom. 

“Paige is gonna flip if she sees this,” Azzi says matter-of-factly, as you strain to hear the full conversation.

‘What would make Paige flip?’ you wonder. 

“I gotta show this to Ice!” You hear KK exclaim a little too loudly, causing the other two girls to shush her. 

KK runs back into the main living space of the apartment where you were sitting. She picks up her stuff with a shit-eating grin before waving to you and rushing out the door.

She was so fucking weird.

Giving up on the essay you were supposed to be finishing, you toss your laptop down and head into the bedroom where Caroline and Azzi are heatedly whispering. They stop as soon as your footsteps near the door. 

Why were they acting so suspicious?

“Ladies, would you mind telling me what the actual fuck just happened?” you ask sarcastically. Being out of the loop was not fun.

“Oh you know, just KK being KK,” Azzi said, brushing it off. “Nothing that concerns you really.”

“But it concerns Paige?” you prod, trying to get any information out of her. Being around Azzi for years at this point, you had grown to learn her weak spots. 

Your eyes narrow, and you stare her down in a way you could only hope was somewhat threatening. 

“If it concerns Paige I wanna know. We’re best friends, c’mon please,” you whine. “Is it another one of those thirsty edits?” 

Azzi shakes her head and makes a zip of the lip motion. 

You roll your eyes at her childish behavior and look over to Caroline expectantly. She just shrugs. They were no help at all.

“Fine!” You say with a tone of indignation. “I'll find that stupid tik tok myself and see what all the fuss is about.” You spin on your heels and walk out of the room with sheer determination. You miss the smirk Azzi and Caroline share once your back is turned. 

You were so fucked.

You type ‘Paige Bueckers’ into the tik tok search bar and begin to scroll with the volume up to identify the same sound blasting out of KK’s phone just a minute ago. 

Your head gets a little fuzzy as your vision is assaulted with video upon video of Paige. You were used to calming the jump of your heart when you were around her, but the hedonistic edits made you want to scream. Each edit you came to had clips of her flexing, grinning, and sticking her tongue out in a way that made you want to rub your thighs together. They were paired with lascivious lyrics that caused you to nearly let out a whine. 

You had been avoiding tik tok recently for this exact reason. Trying to act normal around Paige all the time was difficult enough. You did not need a ridiculous app to fuel the fantasies that threatened to creep into your mind at every waking moment.

At least your screen time was way down.

Your scrolling quickly stopped as you felt your heart quite literally stop. It was you. In all its glory, with a staggering amount of likes, comments, and views, was what looked to be an edit of you and Paige.

What the fuck?

Your hands shaking, you clicked onto it, hearing the same song as earlier. This was the one the girls were freaking out about. 

“Azzi, Caroline, get your asses out here,” you yell, trying to conceal your panic.

They slowly strolled out of the room looking worried. 

“I see you found it,” Azzi said with a laugh. “So what do you think now that you’ve seen it?” 

Both girls tried to gauge your reaction, but you were more concerned about the fact that Azzi had said earlier that Paige would be pissed about it.

You shrug. You had to choose your words carefully. “Well there are edits of you and Paige together,” you reason. “Lots of people think you two are in some secret relationship, and P has never minded. Why would this be any different?” 

“Everyone knows that you and Paige have a special friendship,” Caroline alludes. It goes right over your head.

“Well if she is bothered by this then we are not as close as I thought,” you say quietly, still watching the tik tok, as it plays again. You wanted this edit burned into your retinas. 

Occasionally you allowed yourself to feel a tiny sliver of hope that you and Paige could ever be anything more than friends. Everytime she gave you a late night cuddle or placed a hand around your waist, as if it naturally belonged there, made you long for more. You knew better than to feel hopeful though. This stupid edit did nothing to quell the burning need for the tall blonde.

Throwing your phone down, you look up at the two basketball players with a look of indifference you’ve learned to master. “It doesn’t even matter,” you whisper dejectedly.

“C’mon, we all know how you actually feel about Paige. She’s the only one dense enough not to see how crazy you are for her,” Azzi soothes. “Maybe it's time to be honest with her. You never know what she’s feeling until you talk to her.”

You laugh. Fuck that. Feelings are meant to be kept inside until you die or they go away. 

You’re hoping the latter will come sooner rather than later, but you doubt you'll get that lucky.

“I don't think so,” you scoff. “I need to go before Paige gets back.” 

You leave despite the protests of the two girls, and you make a plan to hide from Paige for the next few days. You knew it was only a matter of time before Ice and KK went running to Paige to show her the edit. 

45 fucking minutes. That was how long it took before your door was being bombarded by Paige and her delightfully rambunctious children, Ice and KK. You swore under your breath as you quickly weighed your options. Option 1 was simple: pretend you were gone, although the smell of your microwave popcorn could have easily given you away. Option 2 was the grown up thing to do: open the door and have a conversation like an adult. Option 3 was straight up crazy: jump out of the window and run for the damn hills. You glanced at the open window of your bedroom before shaking your head. You needed to stop watching too much television. 

Option 1 was it. Fuck being an adult.

You stood next to the door, waiting for the three girls to give up, but they refused to leave.

“I know you’re in there, c’mon let me just talk to you,” said Paige through the door. “KK and Ice can leave.”

You hesitate, but still reach for the knob of the door. 

“Please?” Paige asks again, causing you to let out a sigh of defeat and turn the lock so she can come in. 

“Are you pissed?” Paige questions, somewhat harshly, as she walks through your door.

You give her a look of confusion. 

“Of course not!” you exclaim. “I thought you might be, though. I heard Azzi tell KK and Caroline earlier that you would flip if you saw it. I was just worried it would make you feel uncomfortable, and then our friendship would feel awkward, and I-” you ramble, trying to make some sense of what you were feeling.

Paige cuts you off with a wave of her hand. “You could never make me feel uncomfortable. I was worried it made you uncomfortable. I wanted to come check on you as soon as KK showed it to me,” she replied gently. “Me and Azzi, we’re used to the rumors, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about people thinking we’re, ya know, in love.” She whispers the last two words as if it was some big secret.

You let out a shaky laugh. “It means nothing to me. That would be ridiculous anyway,” you lie smoothly. Burying your feelings for Paige was an artform for you now. 

A quick shadow of something that was hard to read flickered over Paige’s face. You chose to ignore it. ‘It’s easier that way, less messy and complicated,’ you thought sadly. Little did you know, things would get even messier and more complicated. 

Two days later you were sitting in class when you hear the same fucking R&B song playing from your classmates phone. You look over at her, meeting her eyes. She smirks and slides closer to you. 

“So you and Paige Bueckers, huh?” she says curiously, almost like a taunt. “I’d imagine she’s incredible in bed.”

Her hypothesis startles you.

Who the fuck says that to someone they barely know? You feel your pulse rise in anger, wanting to defend your friend. You feel hot with jealousy. Anyone thinking about your Paigey in a sexual manner made your blood boil. In your mind, she was only yours.

You decided it would be fun to play into it. You lean closer to the gossipy bitch, and with a whisper you say, “you have no idea the things she does to me. Fuckk, I mean, we’ve all seen the edits. Her tongue is always out.” The obnoxious brunette to your left looks shocked, and she rolls her chair further away from you. 

With a satisfied smirk, you try to calm the pounding of your heart. ‘What the fuck did I just do,’ you thought. Rule number 1 of being Paige’s friend and only her friend was to avoid thinking of her in the way you really want to. That means no fantasizing, no tik tok edits, and absolutely no talking about having sex with her.

You lay your head onto the desk. What an idiot you were.

As the class comes to a close, you escape quickly to avoid any awkward looks from other people on campus. The last few days have left you feeling unsettled as the edit of you and Paige reached ridiculous levels of popularity. Everyone was now thinking you were somehow involved. You hated how much you wished that to be true.

You had promised Paige that you would hang out once you were finished with your class, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy to your friendship. You rolled into her apartment anxiously, calling out for her. Paige pokes her head out of her bedroom, waving you in with an equally anxious smile.

This worries you. Paige was always the grounded one of the pair of you. Her nervous demeanor makes you think something is wrong. You take a deep breath before sitting opposite her on her bed. It smelled like the lotion she always wears, and you subconsciously inhale a bit longer than normal.

Fuck she smells so good.

Paige stares at you for a few seconds, making you feel hot under her gaze. Those eyes piercing into your soul made you want to scream her name until the neighbors could hear. She takes a breath. “So basically everyone thinks we’re in love,” she deadpans. Her nonchalance makes you squirm. How the hell does she feel about being uconn’s newest gossip train? It's hard to tell.

“Yeah, I kind of figured when I was just asked in class about how you are in bed,” you mutter, blushing at the confession.

Paige looks vaguely surprised at first, before replacing the look with a smirk. “What’d you tell ‘em?” she questions.

With a sudden surge of confidence that you typically only get from ample amounts of alcohol, you reply, “I told her that all those edits of you with your tongue sticking out could only mean one thing.”

Paige grins cheekily. “You’re not wrong. I am great with my tongue. Maybe one day I can show you.”

You think your heart had never beat this fast in your entire fucking life. You were still feeling particularly bold, so you murmur, “I’m free now?” There was no way Paige was going to agree to that, so you get up to leave, before you feel her hand grab yours, pulling you back into her.

“Don’t fucking play with me right now,” Paige demands. “Do you actually want this? Do you want me?” 

You nod your head embarrassingly fast. You felt like an overexcited puppy. “P, I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you.”

“Good,” the blonde replies. “Me too. Now let me show you all of my little tongue tricks.”

Paige grabs your jaw with one hand, placing the other around your throat to keep you right where she wanted you. Your lips meet finally, and everything around you fades into nothingness. 

Oh my God, she tastes so good. Paige presses hot, open-mouth kisses down your throat, sending shivers through your whole body and right down between your legs.

“Need you naked for me, babe,” hums Paige. ‘For her you would fight a war,’ you thought, as you stripped your sweatshirt off, revealing the pretty pink lace of your bralette.

You mentally high five yourself for your underwear choices this morning. Showing up in your granny panties would’ve been terrible.

Paige helps you out of your jeans and starts placing tantalizing kisses over your inner thighs and stomach. You can feel your arousal leaking out of you already, making you feel slick with the anticipation of what was to come.

Paige notices the wet spot on your panties, grinning as she lightly blows air over your clothed pussy. You arch your back wantonly, needing more-so much more. 

“Please, Paigey,” you whine in a way that gives Paige a big head. “Need you so bad.”

“Use your words, baby. What do you need?” she coaxes, still alternating between kissing your inner thighs and swirling her fingers against your clothed clit. 

“Please just touch me, I’ll do anything for you,” you moan brokenly. You could feel yourself start to slip into some sort of subspace. At this point, you’d do anything just to get some more stimulation.

“So polite, aren’t you, babe? I’m gonna take good care of you,” Paige promises before ripping your soaked panties off in one quick motion.

For the first time, you were splayed out naked in front of your best friend, with her having all the power in the world over you. Before you could begin to feel insecure under her piercing gaze, Paige swirled two long fingers into your sopping pussy, admiring how easily turned on you got for her. She brought them up to her mouth, sucking them in and moaning about how good you tasted. 

“You taste as sweet as I’ve been imagining for years,” she whispers. “Have a taste.” She brings the same two fingers up to your mouth and drags them across your swollen lips.

You lick your lips and groan at the taste of your own arousal, wiggling around on the bed and humping the air to get any sort of pleasure. Paige presses your hips flush against the mattress, keeping you from moving. She was yours to control as she wished. Finally, she brought her mouth down to your burning heat, starting with a long and slow lick up your pussy. It felt so good you could cry.

“More, P, need more,” you cry. She was being a fucking tease, and you could feel yourself go crazy as she ate you out slowly, as if she was eating her last meal on earth.

She granted you some reprieve as she entered a finger and then another into you, slowly stretching you out with scissoring motions. 

“So wet for me, aren’t you my pretty baby,” she gloats, and you try to avoid rolling your eyes back into your head in pleasure. Her fingers pick up a cruel and punishing pace, targeting your g-spot as if it had her name written on it.

She fucking owned you.

Paige, still finger fucking you, presses kisses up your belly, onto your tits, before meeting you in another searing kiss. You want to sob at the sheer pleasure. It was overwhelming; the heat of your best friend’s body pressed flush against you, the moans ricocheting off the walls, and the tightening in your lower belly that threatened to spill everywhere.

“Fuckkk, Paigey, I-i’m gonna cum,” you moan breathlessly. “Please, please let me cum, please I need you,” you whine in an incoherent babble of pleasure. 

“Cum for me, baby, I’ve got you,” Paige pants out, riding the highs of dominating you and ensuring the unceasing assault of your g-spot.

With a guttural moan and a string of words that would make a sailor blush, you ride out your high. Paige’s fingers slow as you pant, coming back to reality. She watches your chest rise and fall a few seconds before removing her fingers from your fucked out pussy and licking them clean.

“You did so good for me,” she praises, causing you to squirm, activating your praise kink once again.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “This isn’t going to make things weird now, is it?” you question anxiously. That was the last thing you wanted to happen.

“‘Course not,” promised Paige, linking her pinky finger with yours. “I’m plannin’ on wifing you up now.”

You giggle as the last bits of awkwardness fall away, feeling blissfully fucked out. “What about you, though?” you ask. You wanted to make Paige feel as good as she made you.

“We’ve got all the time in the world, baby,” she replies. “You look like you’re about five seconds away from fallin’ asleep.”

You smile sleepily at her. She knew you a little too well.

 “I should send a thank you card to whoever made that edit of us,” you murmured against Paige’s chest, making her laugh.

“And I'm definitely getting rid of all three of my vibrators,” you announce, causing Paige to grin proudly.

Paige was unquestionably okay with that.

[astradyke]

with everything that has been happening in the last like week of the phandom much less the last few months can you believe that like, holy shit, a year ago we were talking about the kitchen polaroids? make no mistake i never forgot and i'm sure nobody else really has either but that was like, the most insane thing to me back then. and now we have instagrams plastered with collab posts of them being in love and extensive discussions of the phouse and the door just wiggling while being ajar. like we used to be in the "they have photos of themselves in the house..." era just like we used to be in the orange heart era just like we used to be in the turkiye vacation era just like we used to be in the "dan is leaving me" era etc etc, many things in between many things before and after, and now like. i dunno. i love this community i love the fact that we're insane about these two guys who are also insane with us in this increasingly healthy & beautiful parasocial relationship, and i love that the entire focal point of this community is about us celebrating love and accepting ourselves. this is such a healing space to be in. and i'm still insane over the polaroids btw. to circle this back.

[instantpansies]

STRANGE NOISES FROM THE HOLE IN THE WALL HEADCANONS/INTERPRETATIONS UHHH OBVIOUS SPOILERS. CLARISSA CENTRIC CAUSE. HOLY SHIT

clarissa is to locomotion as clara is to the nutcracker. she's the kid who dreamed him into existence hundreds of years ago. i know he says he's older than the devil - i think that's still plausible, he's existed since thought but wasn't attached to the Silver Line or brought into physical existence until clarissa, lonely or in danger or just bored, imagined a world where she could escape from her everyday life and live as a grown-up(? maybe? since benjamin/timothy/billy seemed to age up as soon as he went through the portal?), with freedom and whimsy and eventually a relationship with the friendly driver.

why do i say this? because otherwise im really fucking confused lmao, that first scene where clarissa and loco are introduced is strange in the context of the end of the play. they seem to have known each other for a good while before they get on the train. they act like a young couple who's stumbled upon the silver line as an escape from danger and now they're excited for their new life in a new, safe world. except that loco also says he's been driving the train for years.

(looking back, that very much feels like a scenario from a child's imagination - or perhaps a dream - where of course he's been doing this for years, that's his job, but of course they're glad they've found the train together, this is a new experience for her so it's just an extension of her perspective)

but clara is, she says, a child when she gets on the train. idk how old "little girl" is, but if we run with this headcanon and also assume that the timeline is both linear and literal, she's imagining herself in some form of a sexual relationship with loco at a pretty young age.

i posit that this can be reconciled in several ways (some more disturbing or inappropriate than others), but one thing that could be considered is that the first scene where loco and clarissa are introduced is symbolic of their relationship over the course of the train's history. depending on how old clarissa was when she first dreamt the world into existence, she might not have even been very aware of loco, and spent her time just enjoying the escapism or whatever. after a few years or however long, she starts to get older and decides to learn how she's actually done this, maybe spends a long time trying to understand exactly what's going on. maybe her research leads her to a relationship with loco, i don't know. they do get on the train together, maybe, when they're both young (or, well, relatively speaking) and new to the world, and loco eventually has been driving the train for years and years and clarissa makes it a bit more tolerable with some companionship after a long lonely time. but those things don't happen simultaneously, because i think those things don't really work simultaneously. that scene is a sort of speedrun/amalgamation of how the two of them have interacted over the years. and yeah i guess that means they fucked at one point in there

(im going to be transparent, some of that is a bit of cope/rationalization. i think loco and the conductor are very exes/begrudging coworkers vibes, but i do like clarissa and loco together as well - unsettlingly powerful girl x eldritch being with a soft spot is a very good trope. and im trying to make it work out okay? give me a break lol. you don't have to agree with me on this, but once i see a luke and tom couple with a fun and compelling dynamic i will not let them go even if the ethics get a bit hard to explain later on. sorry, anyways moving on)

additionally, and i probably should have said this earlier, a reason i think this whole nutcracker theory holds up is because clarissa holds a sort of unique power in the world. she's been on the silver line for hundreds of real-years, who knows how many train-years, and still remembers her name and something of her old life. loco isn't hostile to her, even confirming her memory of her name and reminding her of her birthdate. with everyone else (ex. benjamin), he actively discourages them from remembering their lives. despite seemingly being one of the oldest passengers, she doesn't transform for hundreds of years. she obviously has some significance.

you know how that ties in? if this is clarissa's world, if her mind is what created the whole thing, then i think it makes sense to assume it's tied to her. as she begins to question her surroundings, then panic as she realizes she can't leave, her emotional and/or mental state becomes less stable, less utopic, less perfect. the dream begins to turn into a nightmare. and it becomes. well. an ouroboros. the snake eats its own tail and the train goes in circles and the escapist fantasy clarissa once loved becomes a prison of her own design. trapped in the very thing that was supposed to save her.

maybe that's why anthony and benjamin can get out when they do - as clarissa's world decays, as she finally begins to become part of the nightmare, as she melds with the train, the world has to shift a bit. it's reaching the point of no return - once clarissa has been fully sucked in, the train will never stop again. falling into an infinite nothing. but in that moment, there's one final chance for the conductor to stall locomotion, one final leap that could at last pull benjamin and anthony and everyone who's been sucked in by clarissa's black hole of a nightmare out of the portal and back into the real world.

and now, clarissa has lost three hundred years of a life that should never have lasted so long. gained perhaps thousands of years of memories of joy and connection and despair and panic and forever forever forever. and she is once again trapped in a vessel of her own making - her body is that of the child she has not been for lifetimes. her world is dead and gone - not just the world she created, but the world she escaped from as well. what of locomotion, that brief flash of connection? does he even exist anymore? who is she, now? who was she? where can she possibly go from here?

shoutout delirium_undead on discord for going along with the nutcracker theory and helping me flesh this out. your ideas are so galaxy brained and i am forever in your debt

[full-of-malice]

me and my friends are being bitter about ai and nanowrimo again. as one of the kids who was part of the group that made the tag of "#nanopocalypse" as a term for what was happening on our website as we were silenced and groomed and our lives went to shit. our lives were falling apart. it was the nanopocalypse for us. that's why we called it that and have referred to the entire situation as that. and we were the only ones who actually put anything in the "#anti nanowrimo" tag to begin with to talk about our hatred and struggles with being groomed. a desperate and ignored attempt to call awareness

so as someone who put in the work and lost days of my life and will not be the same person again and put tears and long days while trying to juggle my school and personal life, checking in on my friends and ensuring that they were okay, it feels really shitty honestly to watch tumblr take the nanopocalypse tag so they can make themselves feel good by talking shit about the ai policy. it's Exhausting. you guys are a solid year late in support and hatred for nano that we could've used when we were trying to get the website halfway shut down. we have been Trying to tell you. there were tiktoks, twitter, threads, youtube videos, tumblr posts, and it's just exhausting that suddenly the trendy hatred of ai is what gets popular. idk if feels like you all just jump on the trend to be the cool savior and hate on ai and write their posts that do nothing informative of helpful and just say "fuck nanowrimo" instead of hating on it for the actually important reasons.

nanopocalypse was the specific instance a year ago in november of 2023, when ywp (young writer program) website users were sick of being abused, neglected, and being in the dark. the mods started banning us just for voicing our issues and wanting change. we took to. the adult forums and talked to adult users who were in the midst of the own issues as well. we finally found adults who believed our struggles and were on our side. on their website there was child grooming involved too, the fbi was allegedly getting contacted it was so bad. after years finally someone was listening. yet within days they turned on us and told us we were too young and had no place in "their home" of the website and that our concerns for our community and wanting to be involved were no necessary. they started twisting our words against us and picking us apart. i spent days fighting with adults just for basic things, adults who claimed not two or three days ago that they supported us and would fight for us and were so sorry for the way we were treated only to turn around and treat us remarkably the same. there was one nanopocalypse.

it's exhausting to have to reiterate our struggles to people on the internet who don't and won't listen, but don't use our terms that we a group of abused and groomed teens made for a one time occurrence and tag that was for us and our struggles a place for us to talk and raise awareness. a place that got ignored until a year too late so ai issues could talk over us.

so fuck nanowrimo. not for the ai, but for the children who suffered for years in silence. the ai should be an afterthought, not the front of the problem.

if anyone's interested either in a separate post or in the reblogs i'll make an extensive list of any youtube videos, tiktoks, tumblr post links, and twitter links that i know of on the situation if you want. i will gladly answer any question anyone has because i've tried to educate people on this for a long time and no one will listen

[mystic-writings]

almost perfect | jess mariano

PAIRING — jess mariano x fem!gilmore!reader

REQUEST — Anon - Where Emily and Richard have a kid a year older than Rory (they had her before Lorelai got pregnant with her) and she’s sent to love with Lorelai around the same the same time jess moves to town? And they meet all cutesy and shit 🤭

SUMMARY — you move to stars hollow to live with your sister, lorelai, and end up falling for the one person who understands you - and the one person your sister doesn't like

WARNINGS — angst, familiy arguments, odd family dynamics, confessions, fluff

WORD COUNT — 3,461

NOTES — this idea has had me in a chokehold fr thank you anon

masterlist | navigation

Moving to a new town and starting your life at a new high school with only two years left before graduation was difficult. But moving into your sister’s town, and going to a school where her daughter was a former student, and everyone already knows who you are, is infinitely worse. 

You supposed that being semi-close to Rory as kids was a good thing, because if it weren’t for knowing her and, by extension, knowing Lane, you’d be wandering these halls completely alone, and doubly more confused. 

Dean and Lane were angels, helping you with every piece of much needed information on what teachers were good or bad, who to avoid at every chance, and where to not sit during lunch. They promised to do their best to help, but Lane’s mother was as strict as a dictator, and Dean often worked after school, so beyond sitting with them in the classes you happened to share, there wasn’t much they could do. 

Still, Rory walked you to the doors before heading off to catch the bus to Chilton, taking extra care to make sure you were okay before leaving. It was nice, the relationship you had with her despite everything. 

Lorelai wasn’t too happy that you were staying at theirs, but she understood why you had to leave your parents behind. Or, more realistically, why you were forced to walk out. It’s why she left them 17 years ago. 

Despite the age gap between you and your sister, Lorelai was all too aware of why you were born. Of how your parents treated the both of you, and the fact that no child should’ve been raised under the Gilmore name. She was never really close with you, considering you were only a few months older than Rory, but you understood. No 16 year old should be raising a kid while her parents are raising a baby themselves. 

But, she was kind enough to open her arms, and redecorate her spare bedroom, to fit you in. She got you a place at Stars Hollow High, settled you in with the townspeople, and did anything in her power to help. 

However, there was no helping the bundle of anxiety in your chest as you headed from your locker to homeroom. The school was small, of course. Not small enough to have a graduating class size of under 70 kids, but small enough that people knew who was attached to your last name. Small enough for people to start asking questions. 

Homeroom itself was fine. Lane and Dean had different homeroom classes, and people whispered when your name was called during attendance, but everything else was fine. The boy you sat next to seemed entirely unbothered by the environment around him, clutching a pen as he wrote in the margins of the book he carried - On The Road, by Jack Kerouac. Rory had lent the book to you not even two weeks ago, and you mentally appraised him for his literary taste. 

Of course, you should’ve known that trouble would’ve found you not long after your first day. 

Between second and third period, you’d been standing at your locker, supposedly the one Rory used to inhabit - and one you’d already decorated with stickers of bands and movie references - switching out your books when three girls approached you. You were already not prepared for any unexpected interactions, but these girls spelled trouble, just from the way they were all blonde, pretty and primped at 9am, in a small town high school. You expected it from the Chilton girls, sure, but not here. 

“You’re Y/n Gilmore, right?” The one in the middle said, her mouth upturned in something like a grimace. 

“Yeah, why?”

“Well we saw you during homeroom and we were wondering,” the girl on the left spoke, her gum popping annoyingly as she chewed on it. “If you’re, like, a Gilmore, does that make you Rory’s sister?”

“Yeah, we didn’t know Rory had a sister.” 

“How come we’ve never seen you before? I mean, you both should’ve gone to the same school, right?”

“Oh, my God, are you not her sister? Or were you just like, in rehab or something?”

“Oh my God, are you a drug addict?”

The girls continued to chirp at you, and among themselves, endlessly thinking up possibilities of how you could be Rory’s sister and still not go to Stars Hollow High until now. You didn’t even know they had that much brain power, let alone that they could jump to that far of a conclusion so fast. 

Suddenly, from behind you, someone spoke. “Why don’t you girls leave her alone, huh?” 

They stopped, almost freakishly in sync, and grimaced at the person behind you. 

“Seriously, Barbie, why don’t you go fix your makeup or something.” He scoffed, stepping up to stand beside you. “And honestly, if she was a tweaker, do you really think she’d even be allowed in the school?”

“I-”

“Just go away,” he complained, and the girl in the middle scoffed. 

“Whatever, Jess. Just trying to get to know the new girl.” She rolled her eyes.

You didn’t stop yourself from looking at the trio in disbelief. “You sure have a funny way of doing it, then. Why don’t you make up rumours about someone else and leave me the hell out of it. Or have you gotten bored of doing it to everyone else?”

It was amusing, watching the shock make their jaws drop before they managed to saunter away. When you turned to look at the boy who helped save you from that awful experience, you found the person who sat next to you in homeroom. 

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” he shrugged, a slight smirk playing on his lips, and you noticed that his hands were shoved in his front pockets. “Trust me, those girls do that to everyone. Y/n, right?”

“That’s me. And you’re Jess.” 

“Yep.” 

You stood silently for a few moments, staring awkwardly at one another. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the warning bell rang, and the noise level around you picked up as students rushed to their next classes. 

“See you around, Y/n.” And just like that, Jess disappeared into the crowd of students, leaving you to gather your things and head to calculus, one of the few classes you shared with Lane. 

It’s been almost two months since you moved to Stars Hollow, and you found that adjusting was a lot easier than you first thought it would be. Despite having Lane and Dean at your side, you also seemed to be one of the lucky few to catch and retain Jess Mariano’s attention. He was, to everyone else, the loner who barely came to class and had no interest in being in the town in the first place; but he seemed to take a liking to you, the reason for which was still unknown to everyone but him. 

He was quick to become your best friend, and the only person in town who you gave a detailed description of your family background to. Somehow, the rumours that the girls who forced you into conversation never made it outside of their circle, but at some point the truth about your relationship with the Gilmore girls was spread around town, as you assumed would happen at some point. 

Still, no one minded that much, and found that your closeness to Rory and Lorelai meant that you were close to everyone in Stars Hollow. The welcoming warmth and sense of community was something that you had never felt in Hartford. 

Jess, of course, found it annoying, but you liked to tease him about it, and you knew he meant well. No one else seemed to want to care about him like you did, like Luke did. Including Lorelai, who was less than pleased that you chose to befriend him out of all the other supposedly stand-up kids in town. 

It wasn’t uncommon for you to have Jess over while Lorelai and Rory went to Hartford for Friday night dinners. In fact, it was what you had in mind for your plans as you watched the mother-daughter duo scramble around the house to get ready. 

Rory was, as usual, ready to leave exceptionally early, and had bid you a cheerful goodbye as she headed out to the car to wait for her mom, who was marching her way down the stairs while struggling to put in earrings. 

Lorelai caught sight of you on the couch, curled up and channel surfing, and smiled. “So, what are your plans for tonight? Partying hard, I hope. Remember my rule, no bikers and no drugs past 8pm.”

“Funny, Lorelai,” you smiled, craning your neck to look at her as she shoved items from the side table into her purse. “I’ll probably just order in and call Jess. He’s never doing anything on Fridays, and it’s better than being alone all night.” 

Your sister paused in the hallway, fidgeting movements indicating that she was contemplating something. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

Lorelai turned fully, and took a few tentative steps toward you. Her iconic awkwardly polite smile stretched across her features, and you looked her up and down. “Why do you hang out with Jess so much? Sweetie, I mean, you’ve gotta see how bad of an influence he is.” 

“He’s not a bad influence, Lor. If anything, I’m being a good influence on him.” You said, sitting up straighter, leaning on the arm of the couch to properly face your sister. “Besides, he’s nice. He just doesn’t like a lot of other people in town.” 

“So you’re trying to tell me that he’s nice to everyone but you?”

“Yes, and I don’t exactly see what’s wrong with that.” 

“Well, hon, I mean, don’t you think that maybe that’s a little, I dunno, odd?” Lorelai suggested, her fluster clearly underlining her tone. 

You shrugged. “I don’t think so, no. He’s my best friend.” 

“Yes, I know that, but-” Lorelai tapped her foot, trying to find the right words to say. “I think you’re spending too much time with him, Y/n, and I just think it’s gonna end up with you getting hurt somehow.” 

“Hurt?” You scoffed. “Lorelai, how in the world would Jess be able to hurt me?”

Lorelai sighed, stepping closer to you. “I think you like him, Y/n. I think you have a crush on him, and I don’t think he likes you back. I just don’t want you to do anything and then end up being heartbroken and losing Jess as a friend.” 

You? Having feelings for Jess? It was something you could barely wrap your mind around. Lorelai’s accusations, even if out of some sort of motherly-type concern, were out of line. There was no way you liked Jess like that, right? And besides, even if you did, she didn’t have the right to try to stop you from doing or not doing anything about it. 

“Why are you so concerned about this all of a sudden?” You asked, furrowing your brow. “I mean, I’ve been hanging out with Jess one on one for a while, it’s not like all of a sudden I’ll catch feelings for him or something.”

“I understand that, but I’m saying that it seems like you caught feelings a while ago, Y/n.” Lorelai said, exasperation clear in the speed at which she was talking. 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Why won’t she just drop it? “I’ve got it handled, Lorelai, please, just leave it be and go to dinner. You’re gonna be late, and you know how much mom hates that. Especially when you’re late.”

Lorelai scoffed. “I have plenty of time before we have to go. Now will you please tell me why you have such an attitude about this? I’m just trying to look out for you. Jess isn’t good for you, and I just want to-” 

“I get that Lorelai but I don’t need you to.” You snapped, swiftly getting to your feet. “I don’t need you to protect me, or look out for my best interest, or be motherly toward me. I get that you’re trying to make up for the fact that you couldn’t protect me as a kid and I ended up getting kicked out or whatever, but you’re not my mother.” Your blood was boiling. You didn’t know why, but it seemed that something within you just… snapped. “I don’t need you, Lorelai.” Your words pierced Lorelai’s heart with every bit of enunciation you placed on them. 

“And it doesn’t matter what kind of influence Jess is on me, because our mother made sure to ruin me beforehand. You of all people should understand that.” 

Lorelai stood, shocked at your outburst. She’d never seen more of herself in someone before, and still, she was heartbroken. Tears brimmed her eyes as she realized that, despite what you just said was more than likely teenage hormones kicking into gear, it was the truth. She tried, as hard as she could, to protect you as a kid. Harder than she tried to get herself out of that house. But she failed, because Rory came first, always. You didn’t need her anymore, not to raise or protect you. 

“You’re right,” Lorelai nodded, clearing her throat before blinking away her tears. “You’re too grown up to need me anymore. I just… wanted to make sure you knew I cared. That I was worried. But you don’t need me, so go ahead and make whatever decisions you want to. It’s not on me.” 

You watched Lorelai turn and walk out of the house, the door rattling the house as it swung shut. And suddenly, the silence pressed in on you, weighted with the realization of what you’d just done. Months of trying desperately to repair your relationship with Lorelai, of further building your relationship with Rory, only to have it torn down in seconds by your stupid teenage denial and anger. 

The weight of your actions came crashing down, and soon you were sitting back on the couch, sobbing into your hands. 

You don’t know how long you spent stuck in that spot until the house rattled again, and Jess was calling out to you, telling you what he forced Luke to make for the both of you to eat during your hangout tonight. 

Jess barely heard you crying on the couch until the food was on the table and he turned to find you there, back to him, curled into yourself as you sobbed. His voice faded instantly, his legs making long, quick strides in order to reach you as fast as he could. Jess’ mind was a flurry of confusion and worry - you sounded fine when he called you an hour ago. 

As soon as you were within reach, Jess’ hand gripped your shoulder, refusing to let himself lose the grasp he had on you even after he manoeuvred himself to sit next to you. He shuffled as close as he could get, and it was those movements that forced your head up from where it rested on your knees, enclosed by your arms wrapping around your legs. 

“Hey,” he said, trying his best to soothe you, but Jess wasn’t one to do that sort of thing often. “What’s wrong?”

“I am,” you croaked, followed by a sniffle and a shaking breath. “I’m so stupid, Jess.” 

Jess’ hand moved down your shoulder, until it squeezed your forearm comfortingly. “No, you’re not. And you’re obviously not okay. Tell me what happened.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, you shook your head. Telling Jess that you argued with Lorelai over him would just make things worse with her, and telling him it was about your feelings for him would ruin things altogether.

“I can’t.” You said quietly. “It’s nothing you need to worry about, okay, Jess? I was just stupid and it’s my fault, I don’t wanna drag you into this.”

“No, I do have to worry about it, Y/n.” Jess said, his words firm. You could see his brows furrowing, eyes darkening. His emotions were brewing, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop it. “You’re my best friend. Hell, you’re my only friend, and I don’t know how you managed to do it, but I care about you. I actually care about someone for once in my life, and it’s you. So tell me what happened, drag me into it, because I… I care.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle a little bit. Sniffling once again, you moved yourself to wipe some tears from your cheeks and put your hand on top of the hand Jess laid on your forearm. You stared at your hands and soaked in his warmth as you spoke. “It was Lorelai, we fought and-”

“Of course it was,” Jess scoffed.

You rolled your eyes. “Jess, just let me-” 

“No, she always has something to say about- about everything.” He said.

“Let me finish, please.” When Jess didn’t speak again, you continued. “I told her you and I were gonna hang out for the night and she sort of… well, she mentioned a few things and I got angry and we fought. I was an idiot and I yelled at her for trying to be my mother because she didn’t protect me as a kid and it just… it was a disaster.” 

Jess scoffed again, pulling his hand back and scrubbing his face, leaning into the couch. “Of course, she had to say something about you being with me. What, does she think we’re gonna rob a bank as a fun casual activity? I mean, seriously, she’s had it out for me since day one.”

You leaned forward, re-initiating the touch by resting your arm on his shoulder, your hand just barely grazing the back of his neck. “She doesn’t think we’re good for each other. At all. But she’s wrong, I know she is.” 

“Me too,” Jess sighed, looking over at you. 

The silence that filled the space between you, and your stomach was churning. Lorelai’s words came back to you, and as much as you didn’t want her in your head right now, you knew, deep down, that what she’d said about your feelings for Jess were true. 

Before you could stop yourself, you pulled away and the words came tumbling out, awkward and choppy and full of anxiety. “She was right about one thing, though.” 

Again, Jess scoffed an almost playful smirk lifting the corners of his lips. “Oh yeah, and what was that?”

“That I… have feelings for you.” You said, following it with an awkward and bashful smile. It was now or never, you supposed. “I mean, I didn’t even realize it until just now so don’t yell at me for keeping it a secret or something but she is right. You’re the only other person besides her and Rory and Luke that I care about and even then I care more about you than them and all I almost ever think or talk about is you and it sucks and I don’t want to keep it to myself. If you don’t want to be friends anymore I understand because it’s weird to have a friend who has feelings for you, trust me, so you can just leave now if you want-”

Jess’ lips crashing onto your own cut off the breathless ramble you had found yourself in. Your brain nearly completely shut down, complete peace silencing all the anxious thoughts in your head as you closed your eyes. By the time you registered that you needed to kiss back, Jess was pulling away, but you refused to let the moment end. He barely made it inches away before you were chasing his lips, placing a hand on his jaw to guide him back to you. 

The kiss was simple, but it was as if it sparked something within you, and every nerve in your body felt the emotion within you. You never imagined you’d be kissing a guy like Jess. Hell, you never imagined you’d find someone like him, someone so damn near perfect for you, in your lifetime. But you did, and he was kissing you, and you couldn’t give a damn about what anyone else would think when they found out. Because right now, it was just you and Jess, and no one else knew, and things were almost perfect, and that was what was important. 

You’d fix things with Lorelai tomorrow, and you weren’t sure you’d ever truly fix things with your parents; one day you’d try, just not yet. But for right now, all that mattered was yourself and Jess.

forever taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads

jess mariano taglist: open!

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[landthatplane-blog]

More hypocrisy, more rants…

Fuck Helmut Marko. Honestly, why does he still need to slander Daniel? You’ve already made the decision. Not only wasn’t there a fond farewell, nor was he given the grace of knowing it was his last race. Post that shitshow in Singapore - he’s still talking about Daniel! Just be honest, this was about money and politics.

To start, Daniel’s season wasn’t anything spectacular, but he was on a run of improvements and certainly not usually bad enough to be dropped mid-season or not given a known last race. That said, per Marko, if Daniel “isn’t performing” in that dumpster tractor - fine, but then have the decency to acknowledge Checo in an objectively faster car also isn’t performing. The hypocrisy yet again. Admit, certain rules and expectations are being applied to different people.. If Daniel didn’t do enough - why is Checo still there? Objectively, if it’s about “performance” then they should both be out no? They acted like Daniel needed to perform miracles in that shit box, but fine for Checo to just get by most races (despite it potentially costing them Constructors). Never a fair fight. (Not trying to hate on Checo, just pointing out RBR/RB unfair expectations and narratives being put on Daniel). All to say, no one arguing DR should be guaranteed a seat/promotion/extension but I think most people agree (even non-DR fans) - a true goodbye or last race/season for 13 year veteran of sport - was deserved. His fucking family weren’t there because they didn’t know, he didn’t know until Saturday.

Last thing, I’m not condoning hating on LL, now or in future, but sir, read the room! You got the seat, you already won. The dream is in hand. To go around announcing you knew two weeks ago - have some humanity and emotional intelligence. Is it inexperience or is he rubbing it in everyone’s faces? He could have stopped at grateful for the opportunity, excited for the future.

Why has the whole ordeal felt so traumatic and hurtful? If we’re all feeling this, I can’t imagine what Daniel is feeling? As many people have mentioned, McLaren and 22 were bad, this feels worse. Permanent. And for all of CH’s bitching about McLaren, what’s happened here is infinitely worse. It’s like a real betrayal from a team he’s given so much to. He’s trusted them, and they couldn’t even be bothered.

ps if this was about 2025/2026 and decision was made two (or more weeks) - why did they string him along? Dangled the carrot with no real intention to follow through. The fact that they took advantage of his “Red Bull or bust” dreams is also gross. If they didn’t have intentions, they could have not tortured him all season. Maybe he could have had talks with other teams. Or enjoyed his last few races in peace.

so many should ofs, could haves….

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Three

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 3605

Summary: A washed up movie star with a failing career, fresh out of rehab and looking to turn his life around. He moves back to his small hometown to take a break from stardom and help his sister out with his niece- He's traded the high-life for school runs and crafting. What he doesn't except is to meet you, his niece's school teacher who couldn't care less about his extensive filmography or his dwindling fame.

Warnings: 18+ blog; swearing, mentioning of drugs, abandonment, arguing, food and alcohol, angst, feelings, mention of recovery/rehabilitating, absent parents, nail picking, Diem having to be a mother hen, one line from ‘The Bubble’— I think that’s it, as usual please let me know if I’ve forgotten anything.

A/N: This chapter totally became something I didn’t intend on, but in a good way. There’s a lot of feelings from everyone being thrown around and some hurt, but I think it was needed to be able to move forward— especially from that initial awareness in the kitchen. I’m excited to now get everyone in a somewhat good place with each other, so they can quit being knuckleheads. Thanks so much for all the love on the first two chapters, I am so excited to share more! Big thanks again to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for taking the time to beta for me— she’s been my wingwoman through this and I so appreciate her time and thoughts with each chapter!

Series Masterlist / Sweet Creature Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous / Next

“Diem’s not home.”

“Oh fuck—”

This is literally one of those worst case scenario situations, and you’re not sure if you’ll ever come back from it. 

You feel sick, the pit in your stomach heavy with regret. A destructive aftershock hits your chest, rolling tremors of guilt crashing through every inch of you. 

“Dieter, I— I’m s-so sorry.” Your voice cracks as you force yourself to break the agonizing silence. 

“Sorry you said it or sorry you got caught?”

You’re not even sure which one is a better option, either way it doesn’t resolve the hurt you’ve caused him. 

His eyes lack that sparkle you saw earlier in the day, dimple no longer visible—his expression now reserved and opaque. 

“I-I didn’t mean for you to hear any of that— I.”

“Oh, so you meant it then?”

“No, I-“

“Like when we first met, a year ago. What was it you said? Ah, I think it was something to the effect of ‘a fucking deadbeat, washed up douchebag’. The memory is a bit hazy, but those words stuck with me this whole time, just didn’t have a face to put with them until now.”

“Dieter, I’m so—“ 

“Yeah, sorry. You mentioned that.”

Tears well up in your eyes, stinging as they threaten to burn trails of remorse down your face. You blink them away, keeping them at bay for the now. Right now is not their time, it’s not your moment to center yourself in misery— this catastrophe of a situation is at the fault of your own actions. 

The click of the front door grabs your attention— Diem’s home. 

Both you and Dieter are still standing in the kitchen, eyes locked onto each other, neither making the first move as you wait for Diem’s arrival into this botched run in. 

“Hey! Sorry I’m late, Wren’s appointment ran later than expected.” Diem’s arms full with take out boxes, completely oblivious to the gloom looming around in her kitchen. “Oh shit! I forgot we were getting together tonight.”

“Mama said a bad word!” Wren already settling herself on a barstool at the counter. 

“Sorry, baby. I should have text you! Wren had a doctors appointment and her booster was in Dieter’s car from this morning— it was a hot fuc— hot mess! But I’m glad you are getting to know each other without me!”

So much is happening around you, your body frozen as you watch Diem arrange the white foam containers about on the kitchen island, a small hand grabbing at the mound of salty rosemary seasoned fries. Dieter settling back against the nearest counter watching as his sister moves about with ease, something he hasn’t been witness to in a while. 

“I grabbed tacos from The Nest downtown. Since I screwed up our night, stay and eat with us.” She says to you as she’s putting plates and silverware out. 

“It’s okay, I can go. I don’t want to intrude on your time together.” Your throat dry, pulse racing, you need to leave immediately. 

“Oh stop! You’re not intruding on us, I insist— the more the merrier, right Dieter.”

His name slices through you like a jagged knife, each syllable a tiny knick, the slow drag of its blade adding to your own downfall. 

“As long as she’s comfortable with it, the more the merrier.” His gaze bores intensely at you, his voice laced with bitterness. 

“Yeah— okay.” Your own words betraying you. 

“Perfect! I was hoping for all of us to have dinner together at some point anyways— no better time than now I guess. Everyone grab a plate and we can sit at the table. Wren, go wash your hands baby.”

“‘Kay, mama!”

*

“I also played on the swings— I showed my friends that trick Uncle Dude taught me!”

“What trick?!” Diem, unaware of any ‘swing tricks’, glances at Dieter with furrowed brows in a panic at the thought of Wren sharing something dangerous with her friends— he seems to be equally confused, shrugging as he waits for Wren to explain further. 

“I swing as higher and higher as I can, then jump so I can fly!” Her little arms stretched out in a flying motion and she continues to munch  away at her fries.

“Oh! Well, let’s save that for when we’re together and not at school where we can get hurt if we fly too high.”

“Okay mama!” 

You’ve barely touched the tacos in front of you, let alone heard much of the conversations being shared around the table. Your brain is so busy running through a list of excuses to leave, you don’t hear your name being called. 

“Hmm?” Refocusing back to the present moment. 

“I asked how things have been at school? We didn’t get our usual catch-up chat at drop off this morning since Dieter took Wren.” 

“Oh— good! Things are g-good!” You force a fake and hopefully believable smile, keeping your response minimal and to the point. 

“Have you made any progress on your upcoming art exhibition at the gallery?” 

“Umm, yeah— I mean kind of. Still trying to nail down a theme right now. Then paint everything before it’s time to prep for the install. Just haven’t found any inspiration just yet, typical artist procrastination.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll figure something out and get it all done in time.” Diem ever the optimist. “And, if you need any ideas, Dieter is well knowledgeable in the field, I already told you he’s an artist. I’m sure he can help you with any questions you might have. Right, Dieter?”

“Yeah— sure.” His response is flat, not even making an attempt to look up from his plate. 

“Thanks.” I think. 

“You okay? You’ve barely eaten.” Diem’s motherly concern not reserved to only Wren tonight. 

“Yeah— sorry, I’m good. Just been a long day, some— umm, things kind of came out of nowhere. A lot on my mind, that’s all.” 

“Hmmph.” Dieter lets out a brief huff of annoyance at your response as he settles back into his chair, pursed lips and arms crossed on his chest— he wants this to be over just as much as you do. 

“What was that Dieter?” 

“Mama, I’m full.” Wren’s sweet little voice breaks through the awkward tension that made itself comfortable at the table for the evening. 

“Wren, you barely ate your tacos— how can you be full?” 

“I’m full of French fries mama! May I be excused?” 

“Sure. Go wash up and brush your teeth. Then you can play for a bit before bath time.” 

Wren doesn’t even wait for the end of Diem’s directions before she’s launching her body out of her chair and heading for the bathroom. Maybe you could borrow a page from her book, you’d rather be full of fries instead of the uneasiness that has settled in your gut. 

Diem lets out a heavy sigh, face resting in her hands as her elbows support her on the table. “I swear, sometimes I feel like she’s testing me.”

“She’s a kid, it’s her job to keep you on your toes and not eat anything you want her to.” Dieter reaches over and gives Diem’s arm a light squeeze. 

“Yeah, he’s right.” Sneaking a glance towards Dieter as you agree with him, there’s a quick flick of his eyes over to you then back to Diem. “It’s developmentally on track for her to be picky or hate something she once enjoyed. It’s nothing you’re doing wrong at all. And if it makes you feel better, she ate all her lunch today— said she loves when you make those special circle cut sandwiches.” 

You catch the momentary smile on her face, hoping your words were enough to give her some relief. While you don’t know the weight that comes with being a parent, it’s  your job to know the ins and outs of kid’s behaviors and how they react to a multitude of situations. 

“Thank you. I’m so grateful— for both of you. This summer is going to be busy, but knowing I have the two of you in my life it seems less stressful. Speaking of which, I’m doing a re-grand opening for the Capri soon, it’s really a glorified pool party— music, drinks, hot guys, and a sweet little girl who might need some looking after while I make sure it all goes smoothly.” 

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it.” You agree immediately, you love helping Diem whenever she needs it. 

“Yeah. I already told you, any way I can help with Birdie, I’m there.”

Even with the prospect of being around Dieter regularly, you would rather see your friend happy and endure the already strained relationship you and Dieter have. 

It seems like the awkwardness has dissipated and you’re hoping to ease into a peaceful parting for the evening. 

“You both are the best! Gosh, to think it was roughly a year ago you were screaming at Dieter—“

So much for the peaceful part. 

You see Dieter’s shoulders tense as Diem starts to recount the incident you’ve already re-lived earlier this evening. 

“Diem, no—“ Your attempt to get her to stop talking goes unheeded. 

“Calling him a washed up actor, or whatever it was you said—“

“Diem, please don’t—“ Your heart-rate quickening, if you didn’t already feel like shit from your foot-in-mouth event earlier, you definitely do now. 

Dieter’s jaw ticking to the side, as Diem continues the retelling of the story. 

“And then you tried to convince me to not have him stay with me— to think we wouldn’t be able to hang out like this if that were the case!” 

There’s that proverbial bomb you were waiting to explode, a nuclear wave that was bound to destroy everything in its path. 

“You what?! You told my sister to not allow me here?”

“Dieter, I just— I thought you were the type of guy who—“ The tears have made their way back, this time there’s nothing you can do to stop them from falling. 

“What type is that? The annoying movie star whose ego has to be stroked on the regular so he can continue playing the role of ‘look how glamorous I am’? Or is it the washed up-deadbeat-douchebag type that you think so little of?”

“I’m sorry…” Your lungs are filled with the weight of his words, drowning in the thick air of your own words being thrown back at you. 

“Listen— I'm sorry. I'm trying to care, but it's hard— Fuck! I need some goddamn air!” 

“Dieter?!”

Dieter stands hastily, his chair scooting back with the force of his movements, not saying another word as he makes his way out the back door. 

There’s a beat of silence, save for the occasional sound of Wren playing as she was told to do. 

“Okay, what the fuck just happened?!” Diem looking back in the direction of where he had gone, then back to you. 

“I fucked up Diem— I-I fucked up really bad.”

“What do you mean you fucked up? What did you do?”

Diem looking at you with desperation, eyes pleading to clue her in on the reason for Dieter’s agitation. 

You let out a heavy sigh before you begin to recount the events that had unfolded between you and Dieter. 

“I was heading over for our usual weekly get together, saw your car in the driveway and figured it was just you home— “ You can’t bear to look at Diem, your nervous tick of picking at your nails keeping your focus. “I let myself in, like I always do— started talking about Dieter and how I thought he was attractive and healthy looking— But then I just kept going and started talking about what I said when I found him in the bathroom at Wren’s party— I thought I was talking to you, until I realized it wasn’t you, it was Dieter.”

Your gaze slowly lifts to meet Diem’s, her expression solemn as she takes in everything you’ve shared. 

“I’m so sorry, Diem. I know we chat and share things openly with each other, but I didn’t— I didn’t mean for him to ever hear that.”

She takes a deep breath. You don’t get the sense that she’s upset, she’s always been able to keep herself pretty calm even when she’s angry. 

“Look, Dieter will get over it— It might take a minute, but I promise it will blow over in time. But you gotta stop with your constant need to prejudge and criticize people based on their past. Was your first impression of Dieter the greatest? No, it wasn’t ideal— but you can’t keep bashing him forever. He’s put in the work, you’ve got to give him a chance to at least prove it.”

She’s right. Hearing her call you out on your flaws stings more than you thought, but you know she’s right and you accept her unyielding words. 

“You’re my best friend, and I’ve already told you how much I appreciate your loyalty— but he’s also my brother and I can’t just assume he’s going to fail without reason. I’m going to support him and love him through this next chapter of his life, until he shows me otherwise.”

You wipe the last few tears that have started to dry, nodding in agreement. 

“I mean— I love you, but you gotta quit doing this shit. I know your past has hurt you in so many ways, but you got to stop it from letting you move forward with the life you’re living now.”

“Yeah, you’re right— I’ve got to make peace with things. I’m sorry, for how I acted and for the way things went tonight. I’ll make a better effort moving forward.”

“It’s okay. I mean it’s not, but it is. Come on.” She stands and motions for you to follow her, grabbing your things, you both make your way to the front door. “I think we need to let things settle a bit, give everyone time to cool off. Go home, take a bath, relax— don’t let it eat you up though. I’ll talk to Dieter, smooth things over with him.”

“Mama!! I need you!” Wren’s timing always seems to be right on point. 

“That’s my cue— mom mode engaged! I love you! We’ll chat more soon.”

“I love you too.” She pulls you into a tight embrace, it feels like a warm blanket of love. You hug her back, hoping she can feel just how much you love her too. 

“Mama!”

“Coming! Night!”

“Night Diem!”

*

He doesn’t even know how long he’s been sitting, letting the irritation of the evening quiet down, enjoying the chilly air on the back patio. 

The moon starts to crest the evening sky and the stars slowly appear, blinking from their respective peaks. 

The sound of the sliding door opening catches Dieter’s attention from where he’s sitting at the outdoor dining table. 

“Hey, you okay?” Diem placing a glass of ice water for him on the table, then taking a seat next to him. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Although, a heads up that you and Wren’s teacher were besties would have been nice.” 

“If I’d known you’d both be at each other's throats after your first meeting, I would have.”

He doesn’t really know what any warning would have done, but he wasn’t expecting to be front row to a vent session he wasn’t meant to hear. 

“Her and I talked— I let her know that what she said was not the nicest way of expressing her opinion—“

“Ya think?!” 

“Dieter let me finish. I told her she can’t let her past dictate her life or how she meets certain people.”

“Certain people? You mean people like me, you can say it— a former drug addicted, an actor. What kind of history is so bad that she’s put off by the idea of you letting your own brother live with you?”

“It’s not my place to share that with you. If and when she does decide to, that’s her choice.”

“But it was her place to talk freely about me with you? I’m assuming regularly too, being that you two have these little gossip nights every week.”

“That’s not fair, Dieter.”

“How so?”

“Look, I already told her that she was out of line with her comments. She needs to give you a chance and I’m going to ask you to do the same for her.”

He can feel his frustration bubbling up in his chest. 

“Fuck that! If she’s allowed to voice her opinion about me not coming around, then I’m going to have to do the same— I don’t want her here while I’m staying with you.”

“Well, that’s not an option Dieter, so you can just forget that!”

“Why? Because her friendship is more important than your own brother?”

“First of all, I never said that. Secondly, she’s all I had for a long time— she was here when I needed someone to talk to late at night when I couldn’t sleep, helped me with Wren when I needed it. She stepped up when I didn’t even ask her to.”

He hears the tremble in Diem’s voice, her usual level headed tone shifting towards anger the more she talks. 

“You could have just called and said you needed help, I would have been here.” The moment it leaves his mouth he knows how ridiculous it sounds, and knows whatever Diem is about to unleash on him is more than justified. 

“Are you fucking serious right now?! Called you? When could I have called you for your help?? Hmm?? When you were across the country shooting your big time movies for months on end?? How about when you and what’s his face were off gallivanting across Europe for a year? I should have called you then, right? Oh! I know— I should have called you every time you were strung out from doing fuck knows how many lines of Coke or whatever drug of the week it was.”

He feels gutted, every bit of him fileted open as Diem pours salt into every crevice of his undeserving body. 

This is all part of it though— the healing process. While there is bound to be plenty of excitement and joy around his recovery, there is an equal amount of uncertainty and ugliness that comes along with it. Raw, heavy emotions and animosity all have just as much of a place as the elated ones. 

“I didn’t have mom and dad— and I didn’t have you either.” She uses the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her tears as she brings her feet up onto the edge of the chair, arms pulling her legs close to her chest as she rests her head on her knees. 

“Diem, I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry I wasn’t available and I’m sorry for not being the brother you needed.” 

Reaching over he grabs the arm of her chair pulling it closer to his own, the metal of the legs scraping against the ground. 

He leans against Diem, head resting on hers 

as he wraps an arm around her shoulders. 

“I’m not asking you to be best friends, just to give her a chance, for me. Heck, you can even fake that you like her if you want to.” He laughs, but knows an actual effort is what Diem deserves. “I need you both more than you know. Can you promise that you’ll do that for me, Dieter?”

Her body shifts a bit, he leans back to allow her to bring her arm out from where it was tucked away. 

It’s as if they were transported back to their childhood, her pinky awaiting his to fully seal the agreement. 

“Promise.”

*

The rest of your evening went as Diem suggested— a warm bath with your favorite bath bomb and a small glass of wine to help relax even more. 

You hated how much you were the cause of the evening’s chaos, replaying every word of it on your walk home, as you soaked and now as you situate yourself in bed. 

The only remedy for your lackluster mood was a phone call away. Grabbing for your cellphone and scrolling through the recent call log until your thumb finds the contact you’re seeking. 

It’s ringing, the silence between each ring feels like minutes, but by the fifth ring you can hear the click of the call being accepted. 

“Hello?”

“Hi mom, it’s me.”

“Well hello there, this is a surprise!”

The way her voice is always soothing and warm, it feels as if she’s snuggled in bed next to you. 

“Sorry it’s so late, I just— needed to hear your voice.”

“Okay, what’s bothering you?” Her motherly senses already firing off.  

“How did you move on?”

“What do you mean?”

“With how dad was, is— how did you move on and feel okay to trust again?”

“Well, that’s a loaded question.”

Propping a few of your pillows behind you, nestling into them as you prepare to listen to what she has to say. 

“Time was a big factor. You were my main focus too. But eventually I had to realize that I can’t automatically assume that every guy I meet is going to be like your father, unless they show me otherwise. Once I figured that out, the fear of being let down was no longer keeping me from moving on. I hope that answers your question.”

“It does. Thank you mom.”

“So, who’s the guy?”

“I-I didn’t mention any guy.”

“You didn’t have to. But, he must be worth it though if you’re humble enough to seek out the opinion of your little ole mother.”

“Yeah— we’ll see.”

Next

[mcybree]

On 3l!Jimmy and guilt and FH and various tangential things: a post that got out of hand and morphed into something completely different by the end. Enjoy?

I read a good Jimmy analysis post a while back on how important Jimmy’s pride is to him, and how he’ll back himself up when no one else will, often to his own detriment. And this is such a key part of his character, right. Jimmy doesn’t often withdraw or get all nervous and shy when bad shit happens to him, he gets louder and angry and all riled up about it. He projects his insecurities outwards and then picks battles over anything he perceives as an insult.

So it is strange how that seems to be… almost missing in third life. In that series specifically, he withdraws more often than not, he fears making independent decisions, and he makes concessions he typically would rather make a stupid hill to die on than consider:

Joel and Martyn tell Jimmy they feel lied to, and Jimmy is quick to ask how he can make it up to them, agreeing to give them cows for free. Jimmy is threatened by Grian and Scar into giving up his diamond chestplate and he folds easily, then goes home to tell Scott he just “wasn’t thinking.” Jimmy gets blown up by Grian’s tnt trap and says the walls around the flower valley need to go up, he says he’s never leaving his house again, and after it’s all settled he’s afraid to even walk home without Scott.

Honestly the only time he ever picks a fight in true Jimmy fashion is in Episode 1 with Martyn over some stupid sign placement, and then with the red army negotiations when he burned the banner— but that, notably, wasn’t a personal pride thing! It was a very Jimmy way to go about it, but he got defensive because he thought they were going to hurt Scott, and spitting in their faces was the best way he knew how to protect him (as this is how Jimmy typically protects himself).

He’s just very tame, overall. Defanged. He doesn’t stand up for himself like he usually does.

And yknow. If I had to take just. A personal guess as to why that is. I think the difference primarily stems from 3l!Jimmy’s tendency to take on personal blame for things that aren’t even his fault. A Jimmy character feeling bad about the things he’s done isn’t new, he often does do regrettable things, but what sets 3l!Jimmy apart is that he excessively self blames for what are often unsubstantiated reasons.

Grian’s tnt trap triple kill (emphasis on Grian’s) is the most dramatic example. After Jimmy accidentally activates it, he repeatedly stresses just how bad he feels about it, and apologizes to skizz directly, telling him he feels like he’s “ruined everything.” Jimmy blames himself entirely for this incident, to the point where it allows for him and Scott to team up with desert duo, who DIRECTLY SET UP the trap and OUTRIGHT TOOK CREDIT FOR the kills, in the next episode without even a mention of caution or bitterness. This is irrational; if Jimmy were to ask any given person if they genuinely think the deaths were ENTIRELY his fault, I don’t think anybody would seriously say that it was.

Except for Scott. Scott would say it is, and that’s the issue. He did say it, actually, first implying it (“Jimmy I told you that we needed to shoot it from a distance!”) but then outright telling him (“You killed two people!”)*. Scott later backpedals a bit, telling Jimmy that it was Grian and Scar who gave him the loaded gun, and it wasn’t him that brought it. While nice, that sentiment was seemingly too little too late.

* (both of these are said in the scene at about 25:33, ep4 of Scott’s pov in case anyones curious. assuming my timestamps from a year ago are correct if theyre not lmk. I also have rough timestamps for like everything else referenced in here in one big document so if anyone needs them feel free to ask)

This is all to say: I think Jimmy’s self blaming tendencies and, by extension, his unusual lack of self confidence this season are a result of his relationship with Scott. While the TNT trap incident was the catalyst for those feelings being brought so front and center, I believe that Scott created an environment which normalized Jimmy taking on personal blame for things aren’t his fault beforehand, or at the very least disproportionate amounts of it (so when he legitimately fucks up and makes a disastrous mistake, it’s the only thing he thinks to do). Primarily because Scott, himself, blames Jimmy for a lot of things, but also because Jimmy doesn’t understand the motivations behind a lot of how Scott treats him, and has to retroactively fill in the blanks with what makes sense. Full transparency: I am staking this ladder claim on both his undying admiration for Scott seen throughout the entire series that would require a thought process like this to support, and one (1) interaction between him and Martyn in episode 1. However, I’d still argue it’s a significant interaction.

MARTYN: I just seen you get slapped around, like what’s- what’s going on?

JIMMY: I just- Y’know- just. well we’re living opposite each other…

MARTYN: Are you happy living with Scott?

JIMMY: WE’RE LIVING— We’re living opposite each other! And he builds fantastic. And mine just looks like- I’m just not a builder, y’know? Just not a builder.

And. Personally. To me. Answering “What’s going on?” with “I’m just not a builder” in regards to Scott pushing him around implies that Jimmy made a connection between him being a bad builder and Scott’s reaction. In reality, Scott “slapped him around” because Jimmy showed up too early for a deal that he didn’t know about. But Jimmy doesn’t accept that as the reason, and instead traces it back to a personal fault, something he will go on to make a habit of until he dies in the desert.

After all, it becomes very easy to explain away various mishaps and misfortunes as “oh I’m just not a builder” or “oh I must not have been thinking,” when Scott’s favorite activity is implying Jimmy is incompetent and can’t be trusted to do anything on his own. (Some fun scott quotes being “why do I let you do things” “as long as we dont let jimmy do anything we’ll be fine,” and most directly, “see that’s why I said, ‘I dont trust Jimmy with anything’ because he’s incompetent”)

And it’s funny, right? Because Jimmy isn’t one to just let people put him down like that. When other people in other series tell Jimmy that his house is ugly, Jimmy will defend it with pride and stand up for it twice as much to compensate. But when Scott calls his house ugly, he tells Scott to stay put while he quickly runs to try and fix it, and then hurries back to ask if it’s better. Because he admires Scott, he never stops admiring him, he’s always expressing that (“you’re good at everything” “you’re full of good ideas, aren’t you?” “how are you such a good builder?”). And he doesn’t get defensive when Scott says these things, not in the same way— He tries to, but it comes across more desperate than anything (“say something good about me!”) because he places Scott on such a high pedestal and yearns for that approval. Scott is different.

This is how, despite all odds, it gets to him. And it changes how Jimmy perceives himself. Scott doesn’t trust Jimmy not to fuck up any given task, so Jimmy doesn’t trust himself in later episodes, especially post-Dogwarts explosion. The cake scene, while admittedly a very cute moment (so I do hate to cite this here but it’s a good example), works because Scott left a cake in Jimmy’s room without saying anything, and knew that the first thing Jimmy would do is get scared and come get him. Because that is the first thing 3l!Jimmy thinks to do when he’s scared! And it’s entirely unsurprising how it got that way! In the very first episode, Scott tells Jimmy that if it wasn’t for Scott finding him in the beginning, he would’ve been the first to die. It’s generally a joke to point to fh and go “Jimmy is like Scott’s pet lol, Jimmy is like a lost puppy without Scott” but there really is some truth in that, and I find that to be somewhat haunting considering Jimmy takes so much pride in his independence usually. Jimmy’s hesitance towards making independent decisions can also be traced back to Scott finding Jimmy’s independent decisions inherently frustrating but that’s already part of the FH dissection essay I have in my drafts and this post is long enough already. There’s also a whole other discussion to be had about how Scott’s say is the final say no matter what and Jimmy knows that which further deincentivizes independent decision making (REPEATEDLY POINTS TO “I’ll try and sweet talk him, but if he starts hitting me, what can I do?”) but that is also for the essay

I dont know where I was going with this. I think I made my point in the third paragraph but I feel lots of things about these characters and have lots to say so as I kept writing I got more and more emotional and now I think I’ve driven my little block people shaped autism car into a brick wall. I think I’m going to go throw up and then let the earth reclaim me. yeaj that sounds good

TL;DR: girl I dont even know

[ingravinoveritas]

martinsharmony replied to your post "UMMMM DOCTOR AGREEING WITH DONNA SAYING ISSAC…"

I've saved this post until I watched all 3 specials. HOLY SHIT FIRE I agree that it feels like a lighted path @ingravinoveritas. I feel like the whole thing was made for David. They chose HIM for a reason. Or maybe he chose IT? There couldn't be a more perfect person for this. It must have felt SO important, for a variety of reasons. The whole thing to me seemed to bring Dr Who into the present day. Very now. Very relevant. And just think how much it must mean to Wilf <3

@martinsharmony I have an Ask waiting in my inbox that will allow me to talk more about this, but in brief: There have been a lot of people in the fandom on Twitter attacking Michael--and by extension David--lately, and one thing that has incensed me beyond measure is seeing someone say David (and Georgia) never cared about queer rights until they had a LGBTQ+ child. While I can't confidently speak to Georgia's stance, I feel very strongly that that is definitely not at all the case with David. This is something I have felt for a long time now, but most especially since hearing him on that podcast last year: That having an LGBTQ+ child has made David significantly more vocal about queer rights, but it was far from what made him start caring about it in the first place.

Listening to that podcast now, in the context of the DW 60th anniversary specials--specials we knew nothing about at the time the podcast aired, but that David did know about--makes things even clearer. It's not about acknowledging that the Doctor is queer, or downplaying what happened in those specials because "the Doctor has always been queer." It's about this iteration of the Doctor being able to acknowledge it. It's about David, who played (arguably, as far as I'm aware) the most popular modern incarnation of the Doctor, openly being not straight on international television. Even if it was something as casual as saying Isaac Newton is hot, the entire point is that it was something he couldn't have said while playing Ten all those years ago.

It's also my understanding that other DW actors were approached for the specials but declined to take part (someone please correct me if I have that wrong, though), but as you said, it genuinely feels like the whole thing was made and meant for David. That in this particular time and cultural climate--which is, in some ways, more difficult and less safe to be queer in than 15 years ago--and after having played Crowley for two seasons of Good Omens, it was David who was tasked with bringing DW into a new era. It was David who Russell trusted to help the audience understand why it mattered, because he knew David already understood why.

Maybe David understood because he knew what it would mean to Wilf, or because he came to discover what it meant to himself--or both. The entire point is that something lead him to this lighted path, and now he knows it's there and that he has the choice to follow wherever it may lead. It's also that there are countless queer kids and teenagers who watched those 60th anniversary specials who are now going to feel safe being themselves because of David, just as watching Doctor Who as a child made him feel safe to be himself. And I can't think of anything more beautiful than that...

[kingofmyheart-19]

Begin Again - Chapter 1

***thinking about posting my wattpad stuff here too, starting the first chapter of this book.

Six months prior - Mack's POV

I'm getting Riley ready for bed when my phone rings from the other room.

I look at my watch.

She's late again.

"Mommy? Where momma?" Riley asks me sadly.

"She had work, baby. She will see you in the morning."

She leans in and kisses my cheek, "Okay."

I scoop her up and kiss her cheek, "We love you. So much."

I set her in her crib and turn on her sound machine and then hit the light.

"Night night, mommy!"

I sigh, "Night night, baby."

I close her door and walk to the next room, "Max, come here, boy."

Our big yellow lab runs into the room and hops onto the bed.

I grab my phone and see two missed calls.

Ally.

I push her contact and it quickly gets picked up.

"Hello." A man's voice answers.

"Uh, hello? Who is this?" I ask, concerned.

"Is this the spouse of Allison Hughes?" He asks.

I gulp, "Y-yes? What is going on? Where is my wife?"

Silence.

"Mrs. Hughes? My name is Dr. Snyder, I was your wife's trauma doctor today."

My heart drops.

"What? Where is my wife?" I ask and stand up.

"Your wife was in a terrible accident. She came into my trauma bay and we performed CPR for 30 minutes, but her injuries were too extensive."

I stop pacing.

"No. Where is my wife? I want to talk to her! She-she was on her way home, albeit, late, but she was on her way!"

"Mrs. Hughes, your wife passed away about 30 minutes ago. We were unable to save her. I am so sorry." He says.

My brain is unable to compute what is actually happening.

"We have a two-year-old." Is the only phrase I can say.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Hughes. We will need you to come down to the hospital. It's a formality."

I stare at the bed and feel tears running down my cheeks.

I see the photo of us on our wedding day and when Riley was born.

"Fuck. Okay. I understand. I'll be there, what hospital?"

"UC San Diego Medical Center."

I hang up and rub my face.

'This can't be fucking real. It just can't be.'

I go to my contacts and click the name.

"Hey dude! What's going on?"

"Lauren?" I sniffle.

"Whoa. What's wrong? You and Ally okay?"

The mention of Ally makes me cry harder.

"Shit. This is bad. I'm coming over."

She hangs up and I sink to the floor.

'What am I going to do?'

Present

"Riley! Don't go too far, okay?" I call out.

"Won't, mommy!"

I look out at the ocean and sigh. I look down at my wedding rings that I can't take off.

'I miss you so much, babe.'

I look back up and try to locate Riley, but can't.

"Riley?" I call.

I feel my heart rate increase and call again, "Riley!"

"Mommy, I'm here!"

I whip around and see Riley run up with another girl.

I kneel down and hug her, "You scared me, baby."

"Right here, mommy." She says.

I pull back, "Who's your friend?"

She smiles, "This is Charlie!"

I smile, "Hi, Charlie."

"Hi! My momma is over here!" She says and bolts away.

I watch as she comes back, pulling a woman.

"Whoa, Charlie!" She says.

"Momma! This is Riley, my new friend! And this is her mommy!"

I smile and stand up, "Hi. I'm Mack."

She smiles and I feel butterflies in my stomach.

"Alex. Nice to meet you. Looks like these two are thick as thieves." She laughs.

I nod, "Looks like it."

"Can we go play?" Charlie asks.

"Yeah mommy, can we?" Riley pleads.

"Sure, but we have to go in 10, yeah?"

She nods and runs off with Charlie.

"She's cute, how old?" Alex asks.

"She's 3. What about Charlie?"

She smiles, "She just turned three too."

I nod, "Nice. We will have to exchange numbers so they can have play dates."

She smiles wider, "Totally."

We continue talking when I look at my phone.

"I'm so sorry, but we have to go. Riley, come on!"

She runs over, "Time to see momma?"

I smile sadly, "Yeah, baby. Just like always."

She nods, "Bye, Charlie! See you soon?"

Charlie nods and hugs her, "Yeah!"

I see a look in Alex's eyes, but it quickly changes, "Here's my number."

I grab it from her and nod, "Thank you. I'll text you."

She bobs her head, "Great. Bye!"

I wave and we walk to the car, getting in.

We pull into the cemetery and I park.

"Mommy?"

I sigh, "Yeah, baby?"

"When can momma come home from the cemetery?"

I feel my eyes fill with tears and sigh, getting out of the car.

I open the back door and get her out of her seat, setting her on the ground and kneeling.

"Ry, momma isn't coming home from the cemetery. She died, remember? Her body stopped working and she went to heaven." I say sadly.

She looks down and nods, "Lots of flowers."

I smile, "So many flowers, just like momma liked."

She sighs, "Go talk to momma, now?"

"Yeah, let's go."

She runs ahead and I look up.

'She misses you so much.'

Alex POV - later that week

"Earth to Alex! I'm telling you a story!"

I turn and see Taylor, "Sorry. Zoned out."

"What about? How your divorce with Serv is almost done with?"

I sigh, "No, but also thanks for the reminder."

She chuckles, "It's a good thing. Then you can be free to do what you want or really who you want."

I smile and shake my head, "You're ridiculous."

"Now that you're like settled on the whole being with a woman thing, we have to find you a lady!" She exclaims.

I sigh, "Oh my god."

"Come on! Let's go to the gay bar." She says, pushing my shoulder.

My eyes widen, "I have a three year old. No one wants my baggage."

She sighs, "Dude, you're a catch. Charlie is adorable. Also helps that you're a ridiculously famous soccer player."

I chuckle, "Maybe. I don't want to date another player though."

"Okay. But we will find you someone." She says.

"Sure."

I stand up and walk out of the locker room.

I get to my car and stare at my phone.

'That woman never texted me. Charlie's been asking about Riley.'

I sigh and head towards Charlie's school.

I pull in the parking lot and Mack crosses my mind again.

I shake my head.

'She had a ring on, Alex. Get a grip.'

Mack POV -

The bell rings and I smile, "Alright guys, that's the bell! I'll see you all next week!"

I watch as my high schoolers quickly clamber to get out of my classroom.

I turn and sit at my desk, starting to grade papers.

I glance up and see the photo of Ally and I with Riley, one month before she died.

I sigh and sit back.

"Knock knock, buddy! Time for the weekend!" Lauren waltzes in.

I look at her and smile, "Yup!"

"Let's go out tonight." She says and leans on my desk.

I stare at her and shake my head, "Riley is still having a hard time during bedtime without Ally."

She sighs, "You need a break. Call your mom, she can come watch Ry."

I look down, "I'm really missing her, Laur."

"I know you are, which is why you need a break. Let's go out, get a few beers, nothing crazy, you'll be home by 11. Ally would want you to take a break." She says.

I look back up at her, "Alright. I'll text my mom."

She pats my back, "It'll get better, I promise."

I bob my head, "Okay. I need to go get Riley."

"See you at 8."

She walks out and I lean back, looking up.

"Send me a sign, babe. I don't want to go on without you, but it's hard."

I close my eyes and sigh.

I gather my stuff and head to my car, going to get Riley.

I pull up to her preschool and smile when I see her running out on the playground.

'She's so much like her.'

I get out and she sees me, "Mommy!"

I jog over and pick her up, kissing her cheek.

"Hi my little love!"

"Hi Mrs. Hughes! Can we chat real quick?" Riley's teacher asks.

I nod, "Go play a little more."

I watch as Riley runs off and turn to her teacher.

"What's going on? Everything okay with Riley?" I ask.

She nods, "Yeah, just she's having a hard time napping and has been acting out a little bit."

"Acting out, how?" I inquire.

She sighs, "She's shoving kids, not sharing, wants to be by herself, which as you know, is not like her."

I shake my head, "It's not. She's been struggling with losing Ally."

She nods sadly, "I agree. I really think it'd be beneficial to have her see a social worker."

My eyes widen.

"I know that sounds scary, but you're an educator, you know the importance of getting the right supports in place." She says gently.

I think about it and let out a breath, "I know you're right. I'm just worried, she sleeps with me every night."

She nods, "We will support you guys just like we have been."

I nod, "Thank you, see you Monday."

"Come on, Ry!"

She skips over and grabs my hand.

We walk to the car and get in, "Okay, baby. Tonight, grandma is going to stay with you for a few hours. I'll tuck you in, but mommy is going to go out for a few hours with Auntie Lauren."

She shakes her head, "No, mommy! What if something happens!"

I sigh, "Nothing will happen. I'll see you in the morning. You'll be safe with grandma. Maybe she will even give you ice cream before sleep."

Her eyes well up and she nods, "Promise you'll come home?"

"Promise."

Alex POV

"Okay, let's get a drink!" Taylor yells.

We walk to the bar and I lean on it.

"Hey. What's your name?"

I turn and see a gorgeous blonde staring at me.

I smile, "Hi, I'm Alex."

"Elise."

"Nice to meet you." I say.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

I nod and am about to speak when someone bumps into me.

"I am so sorry. Jesus, I should really watch where I am-"

"Mack?" I ask.

She looks up at me, "Uh- Alex? Hi! What are- what are you doing here?"

I chuckle, "Same thing as you."

She stares at me and shakes her head, "Can I buy you a drink?"

I smile widely and nod.

"But-" Elise starts.

I turn to her, "I'm so sorry, but i know this one. Thanks for offering though."

She scoffs and walks off.

"Did I interrupt something?" Mack asks.

I shake my head, "No."

"Mack! The hell? You just wander off and now you're with some hot chick!"

My eyes widen.

"Holy. Are you her wife? I am so sorry, but I promise this is not what it looks like."

Her eyes widen, "Am I her- oh no. Just best friend."

Mack sighs and I notice her demeanor change.

"Lauren, what's your name?" The woman asks.

"I'm Alex. Our kids met at the park the other day." I say.

She smiles, "Oh, nice."

Mack is lost in thought and her friend nudges her.

She looks up, "Riley met her daughter at the park."

"We established that, idiot. You know what? I'm going to go find our crew. You'll catch up?"

Mack nods.

Lauren walks away, "So, you promised me a drink."

She smiles, "I did. Let's go out on the patio though."

We grab drinks and walk outside, which is way quieter.

We sit and I stare at her.

'She's so damn cute."

I shake my head.

"So, where's your wife?" I ask.

She looks down at her hand and sighs.

"I know you see these rings and that's why you ask."

I look at her confusedly.

She lets out another breath, "Alex, my wife died six months ago."

'What?'

[nbofvoid]

There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays~

Written for the dreamnblade christmas event @alterdnbweek is holding this year.

Day 1 Prompts: Fake Marriage; Fancy dinner

Warnings: referenced alcohol abuse, background character death, and mentions of a toxic family environments. I don't think they're too in your face, but you never know.

**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**

Techno opens the door, a fruit pop hanging from his mouth and raising an eyebrow.

Dream is standing on the other side which isn't that unusual. They generally treat each other's apartments as extensions of their own even if they still make sure to respect boundaries like locked doors. What is strange is Dream not bounding right past him to perch on the couch or rushing to the bathroom or trying to climb onto one of the counters.

He pulls the popsicle out as he drags Dream inside and closes the door, "So, what's wrong?"

Dream sighs, hand covering the parts of his face not covered by the mask, muttering, "I want to ask you to come with to a thing."

"Sure," Techno says. "When is it and what should I wear?"

There's silence as Dream refuses to pull his face from his hands. Techno frowns, tugs the other to the couch so they can sit down and settles the throw over his shoulders as he settles in to wait out the confusing embarrassment. It's been years since either of them were embarrassed to ask about attending some function, gala, or ceremony together. It makes it easier for both of them. Neither want to deal with the media dragging possible relationships through the mud, the pitfalls of other people's expectations, or the awkwardness of landmine questions on both ends.

"My sister called," Dream finally says, an eye peeking through his fingers. "Our grandfather died."

Techno blinks, chewing on the stick, "Dream, I think a funeral might not be something you want to drag me to."

Dream groans, hand falling as he pulls his legs up, "It's not the funeral. She told me that is going to be in a month cause of everything she has to get ready. I want you to come with for the will reading that's this weekend."

"...That's in two days," he says slowly.

"Yeah," Dream sighs. "She said father's plan was to not tell me and then argue that I clearly didn't care about grandpa since I 'didn't show up for anything' and was 'only included as a mistake' or try to argue it's an outdated will. We're both pretty sure that wouldn't work, but she still wants me to come just in case. I want to go to avoid a court case as much as possible."

Techno stares, thinking of his own family and how trying any of that shit would never be accepted, "That's fucked up, dude."

The laugh Dream lets out is slightly hysterical, "My father kind of hates me. So does pretty much everyone in the family except Drista and grandpa. Which, um, well, that's part of what I want to tell you before you make a decision."

He hums, leaning his head against the couch back.

"So the last time I visited," Dream starts, "was almost nine years ago. I'd left my phone along to help with getting the food in place and Tubbo happened to see some of the push notifications that came through. He was at that age where he was always asking questions which normally isn't that bad, but this time he asked why I had a guy labeled sweetheart in my phone. By yelling it to me from the living room. Everyone heard it and I swear you could hear a the silence from a mile away. And the yelling after it from ten." He presses the heel of his palm into his forehead, "Everyone kicked me from the family that night except Drista and grandpa. They 'didn't want a predator around them'."

"...You know, if you're interested I'm sure dad and mom would adopt you," Techno offers.

It makes Dream crack a smile even as he tries to glare at him, "Let me finish explaining the whole mess. Anyway, the argument was... bad. Like I've been called nicer things by the articles that drag me through the mud, bad. They practically said every line in the homophobic handbook and then some. Some were insistent that since I'd never once shown an interest in boys before, I couldn't be interested in them. A group of them kept saying I just wanted to create drama to tear the family apart since I'd just had that first major hit piece about me get published. Yelling about how I was going to corrupt the kids. Declarations they would have me arrested for molesting my younger cousins. I think one of them said something about getting a rifle and dragging me outside. My father kept screaming about how I must have touched Tubbo while my mother cried about how she 'couldn't have a son corrupted by the devil' which was great."

"You want me to call mom 'cause she'll-"

"PLUS I was yelling back at them," Dream speaks over him. Techno's jaw clicks shut, pressing his hand over his mouth. "I was doing my best to defend myself, but you can't argue with those kinds of people. Like one of their arguments was that I couldn't be gay since I would have brought how a boyfriend by that point which I may have screamed that the whole blow up we were in the middle of was why I hadn't brought my fiance to meet them and that none of them would ever meet him, see our wedding, or ever have a relationship with us. That shut some of them up, but others were still yelling and I was this close" Dream pinches two finger almost touching "to grabbing a knife and stabbing someone so I left. I'd driven cause I couldn't afford the plane ticket so I wasn't stuck there at least."

"Wait," Techno says, sitting up and pinning Dream under narrowed eyes. "Is this when you figured out Sam was cheating on you?"

Dream tilts forward, head falling onto Techno's shoulder and he automatically wraps him in a tight hug, "Yeah."

He hums, rubbing at Dream's back. That particular mess was already a pain in the ass to deal with, though knowing that Dream had just dealt with his entire family ganging up on him does shine a new light on it. He'd been more focused on helping Dream not drink himself to an early grave at the time to wonder about all the details and it simply never occurred to him to ask when Dream was doing better. They'd both grown past Dream's breakup by then.

"...So," Techno breaks the silence. Dream hums but doesn't make a move to say anything and he continues, "Did you ever mention the breakup to your sister or grandfather?"

Dream barks a laugh, pulling back from his shoulder and rubbing at his face, "No. All of it was too raw at the time and I wasn't in a place I could talk about any of it without wanting to drink myself to death. Neither of them brought it up, though, so I'm pretty sure they thought we, like, got a courthouse marriage and I didn't want to risk the chance of any information getting back to the others. Drista's mentioned a few times they've been running themselves in circles trying to find any information and, um, I really don't want to deal with them pressuring me about it."

Techno hums. That should be doable. He'll have to call his parents for some help getting things together. He'll have to explain at least the basics to them and ask his mom for advice on the jewelry they'll need. None of it can be obvious enough reports on either of them would have caught it on camera. Some of it they can get away with just because they are active enough a lot of the traditional pieces would get in the way.

"I get it if you don't want to, I wouldn't want to, and I won't hold it against you. We can keep going like we always have," Dream says, starting to ramble as he wrings his hands in his lap.

He blinks, "Oh. No. I'm down with going. I was just trying to figure out what  jewelry to ask mom to borrow. Gonna have to sell it, right?"

Dream's frozen, staring at him with wide eyes. Techno waits, laughing his head off when Dream launches at him repeating 'thank you' over and over. They'll get through this together and nothing will hurt Dream on his watch.

-----_____-----_____-----_____-----_____-----_____-----_____-----

Dream is going to die this weekend and it's going to be his own fault.

He's sitting on Techno's parents' living room floor, watching him and his mom go through a huge jewelry box for pieces that will pass them off as married while being easy enough to have missed over the last nine years. She'd been extremely excited as soon as Techno got the start of the situation out and jumped at the chance to decorate them in the traditional gold and gems. His dad's been watching from a chair while offering suggestions.

None of that is why he's going to die, though.

He's going to spend an entire weekend playing spouses with Techno and all that entails. Sharing a bed, holding hands, kisses, the jewelry-

Dream shakes his head, thoughts skittering away from the image of Techno wearing the extensive draping jewelry traditional for such relationships. He knows there's variation in the amount and intricacy, but it's such a tempting idea he really can't let himself think about it right now. He's already going to have to somehow make it through the weekend actually seeing a version of it.

Probably not a good idea to ask the guy he's been in love with for six years to pretend to be his husband, but Techno was the first person that came to mind. He's not even sure if he would have trusted anyone else to know even a portion of the whole situation.

A hand presses lightly on his shoulder, Dream glancing back to see Techno's dad looking down at him with a gentle expression, "Things will work out. And if they don't, you'll have all of us behind you."

He ducks his head, staring at his lap, "I know."

And he does. They've always done things that make him fight back tears because even when he was on good terms with his family, none of them would have done half as much. They were his support after his breakup, blocking his ex when he kept harassing him and as Dream was struggling to not drown in alcohol. They were there cheering for both of them equally when they first made regionals, nationals, their first golds. They helped him move into his own apartment that he's convinced they helped him sign. They always include him in holidays and parties. They're constantly inviting him over for meals and to game nights.

His family didn't raise a finger to help with anything when he was first moving. Only Drista did and she was limited because of her own work. Then, well, the last message he got from anyone other than her or grandpa was someone asking if Dream could hook them up with an in to the entertainment industry two years ago.

"Okay, we've got all the pieces you two will need," Techno's mom says. "Dream dear, come with me. I want to make sure you know how these are done. None of us want you declaring yourself open for a dalliance accidentally."

"Mom. No one would even know that," Techno sighs, fingers already working at pulling his usual piercings out.

She waves a hand, "If any of them decide to play detective, they will. No risks, hun."

Techno smiles, shaking his head slightly as his mom pulls Dream into the bathroom. She gestures for him to sit on the counter, digging out mirrors she positions on the counter. By the time she's done, he can see nearly every part of his head and is seriously wondering how many pieces she grabbed because the box next to him is overflowing.

"I'll make sure these are organized for you before you two leave," she says, rooting through the box and quickly pulling certain ones out. "I'm going to show you how to do the plain ones. They're the easiest to start and if you're just showing up, they'd be the most likely you'd be wearing anyway. The more intricate ones will be up for you two to decide to wear or not and Techno can help with those."

He nods, tipping his head as she guides him to face a certain way. Her hands are steady as they run over Dream's ears, slowly sliding the first one though one of the holes. It feels weird as they reopen, but he's more focused on every move she's making. How the jewelry goes together into a gentle net over hie ear.

She pulls back and Dream tips his head back and forth. His hair covers nearly all of it and the little that is visible is the bottom stud where a single thin chain crops behind the lobe.

"I don't think I've ever seen one this simple," he can't help saying.

She laughs, guiding his head to get his other ear done, "They're usually accents for the others. It's fairly rare to have a couple or individual who's not interested in more decoration."

He hums, watching the second net take shape. It's a little different in the set up given Dream has different piercings on it, but is covered just the same when he shakes his head. The metal feels weird yet he can't help the small twist in his gut. This is going to declare him and Techno a couple. One that is serious and devoted to each other and would die for each other in the really old meaning of it.

"A couple more, dear," she says. "Just two up here" as she slides them into his eyebrow "and one here." Silde through side of his nose.

Dream, really doesn't look that different from when he's making a public appearance. His face is fully exposed, but he's never been shy about wearing his piercings when he's not going to a competition.

"There's a couple necklaces, bracelets, anklets, and torso chains in here," she continues, separating the jewelry when he looks down at the counter. "The number and which ones I'll leave up to you. They're more important when you're wearing the decorated ones and Techno can take care of that."

He nods, watching her for another moment, "Uh, thank you. You really didn't need to do all of this."

"Nonsense. We care about you and we can help so we will. For now it's the jewelry to hopefully avoid more drama than you need." She pauses, looks at him and he's very much reminded that her sister is called 'Lady Death' for a reason. "And if anything happens, you have us behind you. Got it?"

Dream ducks his head, face warm and he can't say anything. Words are stuck in his throat even though he's not sure what he would say to begin with. She smiles, pushing him off the counter and back to the living room.

Techno looks over as he enters. Gold catching the light from along his ears and he can't help tracking the rest of it.

Their jewelry positioning matches near perfectly. Two through the eyebrow, one on the nose, and chains netted along their ears. Techno, though, has two in his lip and what has to be the sort of bracelets and things his mom mentioned. It all looks lovely. Gorgeous. So much more than the times he's seen Techno dressed up before. He wants to see what it would look like if Techno were to wear the more decorated ones. If he were to wear the full body of jewelry. Maybe nothing-

"Looks good, teletubby," Techno drawls, grinning at him when Dream snaps his focus back to the present.

"Jackass." He smiles, feeling off step. He shouldn't be thinking about that kind of thing.

Techno grunts slightly as Dream flops onto the couch, back landing squarely in Techno's lap. He turns to look at the TV. A show he doesn't recognize is playing on it and there's sounds and smells of food cooking in the kitchen.

A hand rests on his knee, warm through his jeans and Dream relaxes into the couch a bit more. Maybe he'll be fine if the worst that happens this weekend is struggling to make words because Techno is so pretty.

**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**

Some AU Notes:

given different cultures have different marriage ceremonies and traditions, i decided to through that into this au. techno's family comes from one that is heavy on the jewelry aspect of things beyond a simple ring and dream's long said he basically wants to piss of his family so using that over a simple ring-

techno's admired dream since before they met which developed into a crush. given dream was in a long term relationship at the time, he was happy to just stay friends then, well, it wasn't a good time to bring it up

is the sam mentioned awesamdude? no clue! it's just a name in this i dropped in because it's what techno would say at that point.

i though it would be funny to make kristen and phil techno's aunt and uncle. they have wilbur and tommy as their adopted kids and they're currently fostering ranboo

speaking of techno's family, his parents would be totally down for tearing dream's family apart. they've done that before with dream's ex and wilbur's bio parents.

I do have some idea for what happens before, during, and after the will reading and if anyone's interested, might post that after the event

[ultra-raging-ghost]

oughhhhh rant under the cut about bads babies

Sorry im so ill about bad's kids tonight

I can imagine dapper obviously looks like him, but pomme looks like him, especially in her face.

I think the difference in dapper and pomme is Dapper follows in bad's current footsteps, self sacrificial and experimental but in a much different way than pomme. Dapper follows after bad in the way that he pays attention, and has been around long enough to listen to bad's stories and learn from them rather than having to experience them, but pomme's so little....

Being not only Bad's kid but etoiles and antoines..... A warrior with a strong moral compass, a seemingly passive immortal eldritch being, and another immortal being but not passive, with his own moral compass that differs from other people because of how long hes been around...

Etoiles is in his early years for lack of a better term, living what we can presume for now is a human lifespan, his morals as far as we can tell is based on those he loves, and maybe bad has that type of moral compass too, but theres such a strong difference when you've lived for as long as bad has.

As far as i know, Antoine doesnt talk as often about his lifespan, but Bad has actively and openly told his kids about people he's loved and lost, maybe not with the intentions of instilling any lessons in there but what else are we supposed to get from them??

Vesuvius, the unnamed lover from 500 years ago, hell even skeppy isnt around right now, although hes still alive.

I think theres a difference between them because Dapper, being bad's kid, was always under the expectation that he would outlive those he loved aside from bad and maybe foolish. We can see the extension of how bad treats foolish in how Dapper treats foolish, how they bond and how bad's wordlessly inflicted his "gift vs present" mindset that he had to explain to someone like Bagi, who made the mistake of telling bad she wanted to give someone a "gift" several times before realizing theres a difference and she had to specify she meant "present".

I gotta wonder if Antoine didnt really instill the idea of immortality into his daughter, i mean like who would right?? But two immortal parents?? She has to come to terms with the idea eventually, but right now shes so small...

Bad's talked about how his presence has consistently brought bad luck - eruptions, mass plagues, falling of kingdoms and death of gods, etc. But most of the events he's talked about happened so long ago. Hundreds or thousands of years ago bad learned and relearned the message that people dont stick around, you gotta pick and choose who you really invest yourself in. And why wouldnt it be the eggs? Your kids are immortal, its probably safe to invest yourself in them!

Pomme is self sacrificial, and really caring. We can really see how Etoiles' hero heart definitely instilled itself on her, but theres gotta be a difference between that kind of moral compass when you live for that long and experience that much loss.

Dapper is a little older, and was initially raised a lot differently, and while we see him experiment on herself with the soul vultures, she doesnt talk about self sacrifice nearly as much as Pomme, previously one of the youngest eggs, and the self proclaimed sole target of the codes.

I rambled so fucking much there but just. Bad sees himself in both his kids, but the difference between them is so heavy and i feel so hard for Pomme... shes so tiny, she doesnt need that burden to shoulder, but how can bad help snap her out of it or learn to not do that when shes still so young, and hes fallen back into those habits himself??? I dont wanna say theres a maturity difference in how dapper and pomme go about throwing themselves to the lions but honestly there kinda is... i just dont know how to word it concisely

most of this is probably wrong im probably missing a lot of lore or some shit but its 4:30 am and i have a headache, just let me be ill kjbhyvjhbk

[rederiswrites]

Ok, I swear, this one's for the people who DON'T follow K-pop, and only know BTS as some Korean boyband that uses a lot of autotune. Just to highlight some things I'm currently enjoying the hell out of from their careers. Lemme start with some context.

So in Korea, Idol is a job above and beyond just performing onstage. You are meant to be a product. An object for adoration, specifically trained and cultivated to create the sort of parasocial relationship that sells out shows and merchandise. It is fucking rigorous. It usually involves substantial economic hardship unless and until you're one of the handful of groups that makes it big. It's also blatantly predatory, and idols are chosen when they're literally kids, at most 18 usually.

Your contract with the label frequently specifies that you're not allowed to swear, smoke, date, or generally do anything not squeaky clean anywhere you might be seen, which, since they've got cameras shoved up your ass and bolted to your bed, is everywhere. Merely touching a person of the opposite sex can set off a whole scandal and get you (or the poor unfortunate you breathed near) a huge pile of hate. They're also perfectly aware that they're "just" idols, just boybands or girl bands, to a lot of people, and not considered serious musicians, even in their own country.

Idols also have a pretty short shelf-life. Korean beauty standards are, as far as I can tell, even more youth-obsessed than in the US. The oldest female artists are like, 34. There's like, one woman over 30 for every twenty under 20. Men's careers often founder on their mandated military service, which is roughly two years (depending on branch). They've got to serve that by the time they're 30.

BTS got extensions, because they're a statistically significant percent of the entire South Korean GDP. But now the elder members have got to do their service, no way around it. Kim Seokjin (Jin) went in a couple months ago, Jung Hoseok (J-Hope) a few days ago. So the group is on hiatus, there's no helping it.

That was the background. What happens now is the fun part.

The Korean government played politics, bouncing back and forth on "should idols big enough get exemptions" for years, specifically namedropping and using BTS as a political toy. BTS themselves didn't comment on any of it, and played their cards very close to their chest and said nothing about their military service. Then they did a huge concert in Busan, Korea, where they resurrected an old rap cipher which involves chanting "Fuck you I don't care, you can't control my shit", performed it with such fire that it looked like they were legit about to start a riot, and then the next week announced that they were going on hiatus and Jin was entering the military.

Since then, let's see: nearly every member has at least posted a shirtless photo, and the three youngest members have done entire photoshoots (and in one case a music video) shirtless. Jimin released a single titled "Set Me Free"--not terribly subtle--and a photoshoot he made a point of saying he'd designed from the ground up, which is SOAKED in queer symbology. I have to emphasize that these choices are all MUCH more significant than they would be in the US. Min Yoongi put an entire album full of rage and violent imagery and painful intimacy and swearing, and smoked and shot people and performed self-harm in his music videos. J Hope released an album full of dark driving rhythms utterly unlike his previous work, and broke sales records as a solo star at Lollapalooza, even while still singing and rapping primarily in Korean.

Some of the members are quieter, clearly a bit unmoored without the thing that has shaped and dictated their entire adult lives, but they're also shrugging off the idol image with deep relief. Namjoon is philosophizing and being extremely frank about mental struggles and crying on camera. Jungkook is having regular almost uncomfortably intimate lives, where he just sings along with the music or folds his laundry or even just smiles sleepily at the camera for a while. Who the hell knows what Taehyung does. Exactly as he pleases, probably, but definitely while wearing thousands of dollars of fashion and looking like the prince of the dark sidhe.

I was looking forward to this. Not to the military service, of course. As a non-Korean, I'm well aware that it's none of my damn business, but of course I don't like it. But I was looking forward to these guys slipping the leash and having lives and careers beyond the chains of idolhood. And it's been pretty awesome so far.