#this man has the worst fucking self esteem

[thefandomcassandra]

The best part about writing emotionally constipated characters actively speak about their emotions with another emotionally constipated character is that the entire conversation smacks of tension and pain and unsaid things and it's delicious.

[professorsta]

Just because You see them as someone pathetic and needing of love doesn't mean that character isn't also toxic as shit because of their apathetic low self-esteem bullshit

[biboomerangboi]

Hua Cheng essentially cockblocking himself for possibly all of eternity will literally never not be the funniest thing MXTX ever wrote.

Xie Lian was pretty much completely in love with him the second he saw those lanterns (and completely oblivious about it) and then we get the wonderful first kiss underwater moment and Xie Lian is basically drawing hearts around Hua Cheng every time he sees him. While like quietly dying cause he literally has no idea what to do with it. Like at this point he doesn’t even really understand that he is head over heels totally gone for this man.

Until Hua Cheng is like I have a beloved I just haven’t won them over yet. Which he thinks is perfectly reasonable because his self esteem is the worst and he doesn’t understand how he could have won Xie Lian over yet. (He’s only on step 22 of his Marrying Dianxia 3000 step Master Plan ((that he debates throwing out on a regular basis because he doesn’t deserve to even dream about wanting Xie Lian)). So course he’s like yeah I have this wonderful noble beautiful beloved I just haven’t won them over yet wink wink nudge nudge.

But Xie Lian is like oh of course obviously I don’t deserve nice things and fuck I actually wanted him so badly I’m actually in love with him and now I will resign myself to never being happy for his sake. (Their combined self esteem is truly a so low it’s a hole in the ground which is hilarious because they think the other person is to good for them and unattainable forever because they literally have the same neurosis.) So he starts boxing up his feelings forever constantly wanting Hua Cheng and feeling guilty about it and literally dying inside because he wants Hua Cheng like he’s never wanted anyone.

Like essentially books 3 and 5 only happen because Hua Cheng has now cursed them both by saying he has a beloved because Xie Lian believes he isn’t wanted and therefore any nice thing Hua Cheng does is just him being nice and not Hua Cheng pulling out steps 23-34 of his plan thinking he still hasn’t won Xie Lian over. (He has he so has but he shot himself in the foot so badly it’s painful to read).

Like thank the Gods Hua Cheng is so unhinged and created the cave of 10000 Gods cause Xie Lian would literally be at his own wedding to Hua Cheng still convinced he wanted someone else and this was in fact a thing they were doing to solve a case together otherwise.

Like he needed something that unhinged to put 2 and 2 together otherwise he never would have caught on he’s Hua Cheng’s beloved. Meanwhile Hua cheng is like 🥺 he’s going to think I’m a weirdo now and I’m only on step 50 of the plan 🥺 like the two of them wouldn’t have been fucking nasty 2 books ago if he just kept his mouth shut and didn’t cockblock himself so violently.

[respectthepetty]

It's Achi thinking his body is tofu.

It's him believing he is ugly.

It's him wanting to hide so he doesn't have to be in the same vicinity as perfect-body Karan because he feels disgusting.

Only for him to accidentally bump into Karan while trying to leave and realizing that Mr. Perfect Body cannot open his eyes because he will stare lustfully at Achi.

It's hearing that Karan has to meditate next to his naked body, so he doesn't look at Achi disrespectfully.

Karan is not cool-as-a-cucumber here but instead trying to chill the fuck out, so he doesn't act on his impulses.

This one minute scene isn't just about how Achi sees himself but how he believes others see him. Karan has only been a kind and sweet man to Achi and all his coworkers even before Achi could hear his thoughts, yet Achi still expects Karan to be appalled by him. Because Achi has low self-esteem, he, unintentionally, makes Karan the bad guy.

People hate hearing "If you can't love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?" because, much like Achi, knowing you are loved helps people love themselves, but the saying rings true since not loving yourself makes you think the worst of others.

The scene isn't about Karan internally freaking the fuck out every second he is near Achi, but about Achi learning his mere presence is capable of eliciting such a response.

Because Achi has to learn to love himself first.

[olderthannetfic]

Being a trans man and not being an anti is also isolating, which is part of why I think trans guys gravitate towards either being an anti or reposting anti posts. If you're not an anti, you get booted from discord servers, blocked on social media at best or sent misgendering rape threats, death threats and suicide bait by other trans men at worst, and now that I'm in college I've found IRL that not being an anti makes a lot of people in queer spaces available to the average college student incredibly uncomfortable. So you have to either be entirely alone - which is very difficult when you're young, queer, and just coming into your own identity - or you have to be around it a lot without saying a word. Agreeing with it at first wouldn't even be necessary. You just have to not say anything against it, and then you'll be able to be around other people.

It doesn't help that most trans men who get sucked into anti circles are teens at the time. There's 501 proposed anti-LGBT laws right now, not counting everything that has passed, the majority of it anti-trans. If you're a teenage boy seeing all this transphobia on the rise, you're going to feel powerless. Bullying people like antis do makes you feel power over at least a few people. Being told you can consume your way into being a good person via media intake makes you feel like you have power and control over at least that.

I was sucked in incrementally because I wasn't exposed to the more violent antis who fantasized about murder and hurting people for writing fiction, I met my only friend - who was an anti - after my dad had beaten me for coming out as trans, and I was sixteen. I got out when I was eighteen because once I went to live with my mom, a psychologist, she gently corrected me when I would say things that aren't based in fact. She pointed out how upset these people were making me. She taught me how to fact-check claims and look into the veracity of claims.

And when I tried to convey to my friends that no, what they were saying wasn't supported, they turned on me. Including the only person who had been there for me when I was hatecrimed, who had reached out to me specifically because she met me what day. I lost every friend I had in roughly 30 hours.

If I hadn't had a really great mom, a very intelligent rabbi who's well-versed in psychology and is a former lawyer who saw the "fiction made me do it" excuse used to defend heinous crimes and doesn't buy it, and an older half-sister who lived through people calling her a psycho lesbian because she's a lesbian who played D&D, listened to metal and dressed Goth in small-town Montana in the 80's/90's, I would have probably killed myself. Having those three people who accepted me and did not accept this extremist rhetoric kept me sane and repaired my self-esteem enough to keep me going.

But a lot of people don't have three adults who are intelligent, supportive, and know better than to fall for this faux-psychology. A lot of people don't even have one. Often, they have unsupportive people who also believe firmly in the faux-psychology of "if you watch a thing you'll do that thing IRL". So there's not only no one hauling them out of this, it's getting reinforced.

Being a non-anti who is a trans man gets me a lot of shit from a lot of people online and offline. (As other anons have mentioned during the ace discourse, online talking points come up on college campuses and in real life, because the internet is not an alternate dimension, it is something being used by the people around you who exist in the same physical space as you.)

A reality that I don't think people want to discuss is that trans men, just like all other people of all other genders, suffer a lot of psychological distress if they're put in a position where they have no support. I sure as fuck wasn't happy being in a position where I went from having tons of online friends, discord servers I could hang out in and fandoms I associated with good vibes to none of that, plus harassment, plus massive misgendering.

It's a lot less awful of an existence to be a trans man and an anti when you're young and need community and support than it is to not be an anti and be isolated. And humans gravitate towards the least awful option 99% of the time.

--

Yuuup.

Having some kind of real support network, usually offline but at the very least not randos you met a day ago on discord, is vital and is the difference between not only whether you rot in a pit of antidom forever but in stemming the massive flood of trans teen suicides. The overall queer rates aren't great, but the specifically trans rates... they're bad. They're so, so bad.

[miraclesabound]

My Hero

Summary: Luca helps Reader feel better after her date at his restaurant goes to shit.

Pairing: Luca/F!Plus Size!Reader, pre-relationship

Notes: I've been pondering this story for several weeks, and now I'm finally getting it down on paper.

Warnings: Date gone wrong, canon-typical language, self-esteem issues, mention of dirty thoughts, food and dessert descriptions, tiny bit of food kink?, past fat-shaming, still fluffy with a happy ending (mention of future relationship)

Tags: @pettyprocrastination @cinewhore @nolita-fairytale @phoenixhalliwell @grogusmum

"Chef, we have a problem at Table 5."

Luca sighs when Petra tells him this - she's his most trusted waitress, and she can usually handle anything on the floor. "What kind of problem?" he asks.

"The woman's date snuck out on her, and he stuck her with the check." Petra points out into the restaurant space, and Luca sees the patron in question. She's plump and pretty, but the way she's hunched over her table, Luca can tell how upset she is.

"Was the guy acting weird?"

Petra shrugs. "I mean, he was a little under-dressed, and he'd been twitchy. I guess he was looking for his opportunity to dash - he mentioned needing the bathroom, then he disappeared. That said, the lady has been lovely; I just hope this doesn't sour her on this place for good."

"Okay..." Luca ponders a minute, and then he takes his apron off. Calling to his staff, he says, "Chefs, I'll be right back, keep it moving!"

"Yes chef!" "Heard, chef!" Luca smiles to himself; he's always known his team is dependable.

--

When Petra comes back to check on you, she's not alone - she's accompanied by a striking man with dark blond hair and an attractive lift to his eyebrows.

"Petra, is this the manager?" you ask. "I'm good for the check, I wasn't trying to angle for a discount."

Petra shakes her head. "No ma'am - this is Chef Luca, our head of pastries. He just wanted to chat with you and see how you were doing." She pats your shoulder and takes her leave.

"May I sit?" Luca asks.

"Sure," you say. FUCK, he's cute - up close, you can tell that his nose and jaw could cut glass.

He sits across from you, and his expression is sympathetic. "Petra told me the basics - are you ok?"

"Well, like I said, I'm good for the check - but mostly, I feel stupid," you admit. "All the warning signs were there that this was a set-up."

"Oh?"

"Yeah - I'd known Oliver for five years, and he'd never gone out with anyone who....who's built like me - and then suddenly he says, "Oh, let's go to this great place I heard about, but can you put the reservation under your name?" We get here and Petra asks us about splitting the check - he says there's no need, it'll be just one check, and when I thank him, he says, "No, thank you for coming out." "

You pause, and then you groan in annoyance. "Shit, I bet he heard about me getting my inheritance from my aunt; that's why he knew I could afford this place."

Luca winces - he's heard of some cowardly shit in his time, but this is ridiculous. "That's the worst; I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, but thank you," you say. "Petra was great and it's sweet of you to check in." You pull out your purse. "I'll pay up and be on my way."

"Actually, do you have to go just yet?" Luca asks. "If you're not in a hurry, I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

Your mind briefly goes to a dirty place, but thankfully it doesn't show on your face. You put your purse back down and look at him questioningly. "What kind of favor?"

"I have a new dessert I'm working on, but I don't think it's quite right yet. Want to try a few samples and tell me what you think?"

That's not what you were expecting, but you won't argue with a handsome man presenting you with handmade delicacies either. You nod, and Luca signals Petra to the kitchen to get a tray together.

Petra returns with a plate full of different variations on the same dessert, along with a glass of sparkling water for a palate cleanser. Your eyes go wide - there must be a dozen different versions of this miniature treat in front of you. Each piece is unique, either by stacking order or by ingredient proportions.

"You don't mind me eating in front of you?" you ask Luca. Unfortunately, you've had it happen once where someone made oinking noises while you ate, and you've never quite lived it down.

"I wouldn't be in this business if I did," he reassures you.

"Ok, that's fair." Looking down at your platter, you decide to start from the left top corner and work your way down each column. It's hard not to notice Luca's eyes on you as you go through, but you figure he's just gauging your reactions.

It's all absolutely delicious, but there are samples that particularly stand out. When you're done, you have your answer. "Keeping in mind that I am the opposite of a professional at this sort of thing," you say, "I think if you took the stacking order of the third one - plum then chocolate then cookie - but then used the proportions of the seventh one where it's heavier on the chocolate than the other ingredients ... I think you'd have a winner."

Luca breaks out into a smile that makes your heart flutter. "I can see that," he agrees. "I'll test a full size version - and maybe you'd like to come back and try it tomorrow?"

"...Chef, are you asking for a food taster or for something else?" After the stunt Oliver pulled on you, you don't want any confusion.

"Well, let me put it this way," Luca says, helping you to your feet and hooking your purse over your shoulder. "If you were to come back tomorrow...there would be dinner before the new dessert premieres - if you're up for that?" He's still holding onto the strap of your bag, and it means you're looking right in his eyes.

"I am," you tell him with a smile. "And even if there weren't dinner, I'd still owe you for saving my night, so...yes. I'll be back tomorrow."

--

Years later, you and Luca still can't agree which of those nights actually counts as your first date. If someone were to ask Luca, he says it was the first night when you tried his desserts. If that same person were to ask you, you would say the dinner the next night was the change because that's when you had your first kiss.

Petra, who's no stranger to these conversations after all these years, keeps her opinions to herself - but in her mind, you're both off the mark. From what she could tell, Luca was yours as soon as he'd looked at you.

[dairy-farmer]

The recent Dicktim ask about Dick cheating on Tim with Babs!!! It hurts so bad 😭😭😭.

I want Tim to get together with either Jason or Damian after. I don't know which would hurt more, Tim getting together with the man he once thought as his little brother or the one he slightly thinks of as his own child.

I want everyone around them having a difficult time moving on from the relationship. They really thought Dicktim would be endgame. Everyone thinks the moment will pass and they'll go back to being disgustingly in love with each other. Everyone except Jason or Damian.

Tim doesn't tell anyone about what happened because he doesn't want it to get away from their mission but Jay or Dami is just so mad for Tim. Babs eventually breaks down and admits why Dick and Tim broke up and Tim is frustratingly right in that it had affected their mission. They don't trust Dick or Babs. And it's causing conflict in their planning for missions.

So Tim decides that maybe the only way for everyone to move on is to show that he has moved on. He decides to put himself on the market again. But nothing sticks and it just makes things worse because now they think, Tim is so heartbroken he has taken to sleeping around and is afraid of opening himself up again.

Jay or Dami, misguidedly tries to help Tim by telling him that sleeping around won't heal his wounds and he shouldn't rush it. Tim is pissed because he is NOT sleeping around but since everyone thinks so, he should just sleep with Jay or Dami, then.

It starts a very messy affair where Tim kinda proves everyone right to Jay or Dami that he's been hurt really badly because of how low his self-esteem is now. Tim also can't trust Jason or Damian because those two tried to kill him and Dick is their brother first. They have sex a lot. And slowly but surely, Tim moves on. They prove to Tim he's worth everything. They fall in love.

At first, they keep it from the rest. They are proven right by their decision because their relationship garnered skepticism. But slowly Nightwing and Oracle's relationship with the Bats improves. They don't get together. Tim is kinda confused why. A part of him is rightfully angry. They ruined his esteem and broke his trust and they can't even be end game? His relationship ended for a fuck? But he stops caring.

And one day, Tim and Jay or Damian go to Bruce bearing two good news. They're getting married and Tim is pregnant with their child. The wedding was beautiful. Everyone was happy.

Everyone but Dick.

He watches as someone else gets his happy ending. He watches as Tim moves on from being his lover to just being his friend. He wasn't even a part of the wedding party. He was just an ordinary guest in the wedding. Everyone but Tim knows he's still in love with Tim and they don't want to give him a chance to ruin it even if he wouldn't.

-🦆

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 tim gets his happy ending!!!! he's with someone who loves him and is moving on to start his own little family!!!

and dick...well dick knows he probably deserves it. knows he's learning a tough lesson in the worst sort of way. forced to watch as the love of his life, the person he was going to marry, the person who was going to be the mother to his child...he watches as they move on and start a family with someone else and dick...part of dick was almost delusionally optimistic in thinking maybe he and tim would get back together. it had happened before. with kori, with barbara even. with plenty of people. dick and someone break things off but then inevitably they find their way back to each other.

and dick hoped...maybe in time tim would take him back. dick would do better, he'd be better, he'd work as long and as hard as it took for tim to trust him again. dick just needed to show tim that he was serious. so he didn't pursue anything with barbara. he called it quits completely with her. he and her had always been too close for comfort and it should've meant something that he'd lost more than one girlfriend because they didn't like how comfortable barbara was overstepping boundaries when he was in a relationship. they didn't like that she wore his clothes that she kept from when they dated, they didn't like she had a key to his apartment, didn't like that she sometimes spent nights over and he didn't tell them. they didn't like how he and her often had inside jokes that they laughed about in front of them, they didn't like how she grabbed his arm and his shoulder, how she leaned in too close when he'd whisper to her. dick had told himself that it was just petty jealousy and insecurity. that barbara was just a friend, that boys and girls could be JUST friends, and their hyper-focusing on the fact that they used to date just made her seem like she was competition when she wasn't.

it's donna who smacks him over the head and asks if he's fucking serious. because they're friends. he's a boy and she's a girl and she sure as shit never did crap like that. not with him, not with roy, not with wally. none of their girlfriends ever felt threatened by the fact that she was a girl who was their friend. that she crashed at their places and that she borrowed their clothes. they never once thought there was something more going on and it was because theirs was a relationship that was actually platonic. if she'd tried some of the shit barbara did (whether consciously or unconsciously on her part) he would've tugged her aside and told her she was being weird because it was. it was fucking weird for dick and barbara to act like they were still dating when dick was committed to someone else.

and what exactly was his excuse for not listening to his partner's concerns and discomforts? because that was a shitty thing too. did dick think he was innocent in that regard in enabling inappropriate behavior while in a relationship?

they had history? yeah so did donna.

they'd been through a lot together? so had donna.

she was one of dick's closest confidantes? so was donna.

dick clearly had some hangups. either about barbara or about commitments because donna knew she'd heard wedding bells. after so long of seeing dick have the worst luck with dating and relationships, she'd truly thought he was going to settle down with tim. and tim poor tim her heart broke for him. to be betrayed and fucked over by two of his most trusted people like that.

she's disappointed in dick. she really is. but mostly she's sorry that tim is the collateral damage in dick learning that there is a problem with how he conducts himself.

talking to donna gave dick a lot to think about. more than he thought. and he thinks back to the moment leading up to...everything.

how barbara let herself in with her key like always how they got to talking and laughing and how it all just progressed so naturally. and dick thinks about how if that had been someone else. roy. donna. wally. it wouldn't have happened.

dick had just been so on edge and anxious when barbara arrived. the jewelry store he'd been calling about trying to get an appointment for a consultation for months suddenly had an opening in two days and...and it seemed so fast. so quick. dick had thought he'd be waiting months to see a jeweler about making the engagement ring his father had drawn on a little sheet of notebook paper to propose to his mother with.

now it was happening in 48 hours and...dick...fucked up. in the span of an hour he fucked up years of his relationships with tim. he fucked up his future with tim, he fucked up everything they could've had.

he watches as tim disappears from his side and his life.

then when donna knocks some sense into him dick realizes what he did. what he allowed to happen, what he'd been letting happen for years.

barbara is miserable when he comes to see her. cass texted him about how she hadn't been responding to her calls and asked him to go see her. its then that dick realizes that tim has told no one of what caused their break up.

dick doesn't use the key he has to let himself in. for the first time in years he knocks and waits for barbara to answer with one of her systems.

their talk is a tough one. barbara has been beating herself up for days. she's too ashamed to speak with cass who looks up to her so much.

dick knows he can't blame her. not anymore than he can blame himself but...they need to talk. the lines in their relationship have been blurred for awhile and he'd made himself blind to it because she was babs and maybe because he wasn't all that opposed to it. they can be friends. close friends. but that's all they can be. they've been dusting away the line in the sand for too long. they're not kids or teenagers. they're grown fucking adults and they need to own up and come to terms with the fact that they messed up and it was their fault.

dick should have never given barbara a key that she could use wherever she wanted. he should've specified it was for emergencies. he never should've left stuff at her place or her at his because it just...it just seemed like they were leaving a door open.

they hadn't been firm about only being friends and now it lead to this and now...honestly unless they were certain that they could only be associates and friends...maybe they shouldn't be around each other for awhile.

barbara agrees. the regret and guilt had been eating her alive and its only a few weeks later when the family keeps pestering dick with concern about tim 'moving on too fast' and 'sleeping around' that she blurts out and admits what they did.

the backlash is swift and severe and dick deserves every moment of it. he's fucked up the one good thing in his life and now tim was trying to cope by going out on dates and..dick knows he has no right to feel hurt.

but it had been almost a year of dating before he and tim got intimate. he'd been tim's first he'd been the only person tim had ever had sex with and now...

it stops for awhile and dick is relieved. he thinks of maybe visiting tim at his apartment but knows that wouldn't go well. he thinks of doing lots of things. finding ways to show tim that he will remain loyal to him, that he'll wait as long as it takes.

he and barbara hardly talk anymore and when they do they keep it professional. anything more and the rest of the family side eye them.

things get better. slowly.

and then it turns out that tim is dating damian. damian who'd been firmly on tim's side when it came out. who had followed tim around and taken to guarding him when he and tim were in the same area.

it hurt. to know that damian's opinion of him sunk so much.

but it doesn't hurt nearly as much as knowing that he and tim are together.

the family is...skeptical. concerned. dick knows bruce tries saying something but gets shut down by damian about how the two of them are free to make their own choices even if they may not like them.

there is some concern that tim is just using damian for company or comfort. but...then they see how they are together. damian and tim had always been snarky with each other but now it seems they've turned it more outward. the family ends up leaving a gala early when the two make a few of the guests cry for some stupid comment they made about damian's new animal welfare charity.

the two get along well they...look good together.

tim is wearing a slim fitting sleek dress and damian is wearing a nice suit with a bow tie complimenting tim's jewlery. they coordinated outfits to show a united front which is such a them thing to do.

but...the thing that really hitches dick's breath is the earrings.

both damian and tim are each wearing a single pearl earring. damian on the left ear and tim on the right. the earrings were from a single set that the two split between them and it was..such a romantic gesture.

it gave dick a pit in his stomach. but he continued believing...thinking that maybe this could be fixed. that he could have tim back.

but then....almost a year later. tim is pregnant. he's pregnant and he and damian are getting married and...and...dick cries.

god the night before the wedding he sits in the hotel room of where its going to be held and he just sobs. the rest of the family is busy with preparations, they're all members of the wedding party. jason is officiating, alfred is damian's best man, bruce is walking tim down the aisle. and dick...dick is going to be seated in the second row of the venue. behind damian and tim's close friends and...god it hurts more every time he thinks about it.

this isn't...this isn't what was supposed to happen.

some part of dick thinks about objecting, of standing in the middle of the ceremony and begging tim to take him back but...god the rest of dick stamps that down because he does not want to take more from tim than he already has.

dick is miserable as he watches tim marry damian. he feels like someone is carving his heart out with a blunt butter knife.

that could've been him. dressed up as a groom, smiling so softly at tim as his bride. tim glowing with joy and happiness while his sweet womb was full with their child.

that could've been him.

and now dick had no one. nothing. tim was going to marry someone else, start a family with someone else, love someone else and dick...dick would be stuck outside watching.

and he had no one to blame but himself.

[finleyforevermore]

Vent with religious themes, themes of trauma, suicide, assault, abuse, murder, and depression under the cut. Please, I beg of you, do not read if you are sensitive to any of these topics. Thank you.

Dear God (no, for real this time),

If what has happened in my personal life during this month/late last month has told me anything, it's that either:

A.) you are real and are just very bad at your job

or B.) you AREN'T and I've been praying to a wall for most of my existence

If A is the truth, I've got some words for you. Since you see all or whatever the fuck.

I've questioned your existence many times but I think this year is just it for me. Because looking back on it, you've done nothing of use for me or family this year.

I'd already been pretty committed to seeing things realistically but you letting Radio be taken away from me was the kicker I guess.

Radio/Simon, or @5ampuppetshow for those who aren't aware is currently inactive because its mom found their Tumblr and is now monitoring him. I don't know if/when he'll be back.

You really expect me to believe that YOU, the Almighty, allowed two of my dear friends to be taken away from me a month between each other?? Emory's (@wantmeifyouwantme) parents found his account and now I've lost my virtual big brother, and now you've allowed Simon to be taken away from me.

But why stop at just that? No no we've gotta allow 99% of some of the greatest people I've ever met to be traumatized, suicidal, have low self-esteem, or depressed. Because isn't that delightful? Isn't it so fucking wonderful to have people you love so much be traumatized and suffer beyond belief and lead the boy who has nothing but pure love for them to have many a breakdown over this? /sar

My mom and nana watch these crappy videos from "prophets" talking about "the end" and how everything and everyone is secretly wicked and selling their souls to the devil.

Well riddle me this, Big Guy Upstairs. Where the fuck were you to send me a vision or a sign that Liam was going to fucking kill himself? Where were you to send my friends a prophecy before their Tumblrs were taken away from them? Where were you to stop my friends from being assaulted? Where were you to stop my friends from being abused? Where were you to stop 99% of my friends from having such horrible, unbelievably terrifying trauma? Where were you to stop George Floyd's murder? Or Nex Benedict's? Or Ryan Gainer's? Where are you right fucking now to stop the ruthless murders taking place daily in Palestine? Where were you to stop my mother from marrying my father and save her from 14 years of torture? Where were you when my mom got breast cancer (she's cured now, her doctors were amazing)? Where were you when my father was born? You smited firstborn children in Egypt, you couldn't have killed my father?

My father will remain the worst man I've ever known and will ever know. But putting religion and other beings into the equation, that spot goes right to you.

For my entire life you have done nothing for me. You've done nothing for my family. You've done nothing for my friends. You've shown me utter indifference my entire life.

With every fiber of my being, I hate you.

See you in Hell, I guess,

Finley

[hotchs-big-hands]

ngl i would genuinely get off to making haley jealous and angry because of how fucking easy it is. my personal hc here but i think she was controlling and thought she had hotch wrapped around her finger and it infuriated her that his job was the only thing he refused to listen to her about. i also think she tried to baby trap him with jack in the assumption that would "fix" their marriage and when it only made it worse she blamed aaron for never being home when she easily couldve hired a nanny or regular babysitter so she could work or do whatever. i believe she cheated bc of that one phone call to their house when hotch answered and it was a random man asking for haley before hanging up and the look hotch gave her like yeah he knew she was fucking around too. i think it made her even angrier that when she filed for divorce hotch didnt even fight her onit! didnt ask to work things out or for counseling or anything. just "okay ill sign the papers when i get back from this case"

now assuming reader is mid twenties i think your very existence would have her enraged. aaron seems happier and even healthier. hes got more color in his face, hes put on some healthy weight, he smiles and laughs now, he takes more time off work, his life has clearly significantly improve since she left him and she cant fucking stand it. she thought she was the best thing that ever happened to him and now shes seeing in real time she's actually the worst thing ♥️♥️

and you thinks its funny as hell to watch a 40 year old woman with a whole ass kid be that bent out of fucking shape because the man SHE LEFT is fine without her. like yes maam i am younger than you, hotter than you, nicer than you AND i can ride the dick just right. stay pressed bitch 💕. and when she tries interfering in your relationship hotch asks you to put up with it just for a bit because he knows hack is still adjusting to coparenting and he wants the best for his son so you let him handle his exwife until she crosses a line and tries to accuse you of some shit and aaron finally puts his foot down and haley cant believe that shes really lost complete control over aaron (haha fuck you haley)

like i fantasize about a situation where haley is trying SOOOO hard to break yall up and drive a wedge between you two and it isnt until jacks birthday or some big family function aaron brought you too and haley cant help it but lowkey stalk yall all night and so youre like "aaron watch this" and you drag him off to some secluded corner and hes like ??? but you tell him "hold on baby give it a minute. bet you anything haley pops up" and then once you hear footsteps you give aaron a big fat smooch and surprise surprise!! whos coming around the corner? why its haleys stalker ass following you two like a creep!

i literally just want to cuck haleys pathetic ass because fuck her and her scraggly blonde hair and that nappy ass wig she had on in witness protection with her no-style-no-personality-all-about-me havin ass 😒😒😒😒

sorry this is such a convoluted mess i just hate that lady 😭😭

I NEEDN'T SAY MORE THIS IS EXACTLY MY THOTS I WANT THAT WOMAN SEEEETHING AT THE SIGHT OF AARON BEING HAPPY AND THRIVING. SHE WOULD ABSOLUTELY BE THE CRAZY EX WHO PROBABLY ENDS UP HARASSING YOU.

The SECOND she says smth nasty abt you Aaron is soooooo fucking pissed. She insults you saying you're just a whore sleeping with Aaron for his money (and cuz us babes are plus-size queens she HATES THAT) and that Aaron is not attracted to you.

And Aaron OOF he takes her to one side and tells her she is fucking nothing but the mother of his child now. That YOU are his everything. YOU make him the man he is now. He's fucking happy with you as the love of his life and that Haley made him chronically stressed and depressed and almost completely ruined his self esteem. He warns her to back the fuck off from him and reader. He does not want any communication with her unless it's to do with Jack. End of.

[chattemagique]

yan!Tendou has his own way of curing your low self-esteem

summary: yan! Tendou fucks you in front of the broken mirror, after hearing you talking bad about your appearance, to show how pretty you are.

author's note: was going thru my notes and damn, I can actually write, so posting this for you guys, a bit (lot) personal self-insert, hope y'all can enjoy too, but it would be much better if you couldn't relate. anyways, peace and love 🫶🏻🕊️💞

pic from ブリテッリ @BRTRmilk_ on Twitter

tw: mentions of self-harm, body dysmorphia, low self-esteem, rejection trauma, self-hatred, non-con, skin carving.

all characters are 18+

minors dni

Life with Tendou Satori was bombastic(side eye, m sorry guys😭), you never knew when he's going to "explode" and affect you. He was as unpredictable as he was on the playground. As it usually happens when people are living together, they start to unintentionally pick up each other's behavioral patterns. You became as explosive and as unpredictable as him. Of course, it can't be denied that three months here, with him, after kidnapping weren't also great for your mental health, which led to the weakening of your psyche.

It's not like you've ever loved or liked yourself. You couldn't even understand why this whole thing happened to you, since you weren't even that pretty, not really wise too. You'd probably consider yourself as one of the last choice. So there were many other more beautiful girls around, why out of all people YOU???Dysmorphia returned to you even during the worst moments, making the whole situation much more horrible.

You were standing in front of a bedroom mirror and couldn't stand the way you looked, you hated yourself not only for your appearance, but also for your past mistakes, your weak personality and character traits that let other people exploit and mock you, and he was another evidence.

"I HATE IT, I HATE IT, I HATE IT"  

Mirror flying down, glass hitting the floor and the pieces scattered in all directions. You wanted to hurt yourself so bad, you wanted to end these sufferings, you didn't understand why you deserve this, but at the same time this was exactly what a bitch like you deserves.

"(Y/N)!" 

Your red haired kidnapper barged into the room only to find yourself sitting in the corner and crying.

"What happened?" 

"I, -I.." your breathing was deep and fast. 

"I hate the way I look, I wish I was born a pretty girl, I wish I had other mindset, I wish I wasn't different, I wish I could fit in, but I'm not! And everytime I feel good about myself, she's always coming back!" you shouted it loud, while grabbing onto your head.

I wish I wasn't different, I wish I could fit in  

Oh, that hit home to Tendou.

So you think he'd fall for you if you were like everyone else? You think he'd find other girls attractive when you were around? You think if you'd fit in he'd consider yourself as his soulmate?

Well, I guess you had to learn this lesson as he once learned.

"Get up."

"N-no.."

"GET UP."

Quiet cry.

"(y/n), don't make me do things that I don't want to do."

You slowly got up, keeping your hands around your stomach, facing the ground.

"I-I just don't understand... why me..?" you said with soft, tearful voice.

Why are you still asking him this question? 

As if he didn't tell you enough.

He unhurriedly came closer to hug you. Usually it would take longer if not forever for you to hug him back, but this time you just needed that support from no matter who, even if it’s from a man who ruined your life. If you can't give it to yourself, maybe he could.

Abruptly he lifted you up and brought to bed. You could tell where it was going, you just didn't care anymore, because it has already happened many times. And hey, at least he likes you..

He removed soft fabrics from your body and unbelted his pants. Having you in a missionary position, he pulled you by your thighs and harshly entered you. Loud gasp escaped from your mouth.

For foreplay his thrusts were quite rushed and hard, you didn't even get wet enough for his dick.

"S-satori.. ple-ease.."  you whimpered his last name in a bit pesky manner.

"Say that you're beautiful (y/n)," you were just whimpering.

"SAY IT" he repeats it louder than before, suddenly squeezing your nipple as you moan out loud.

"Tendou-u, p-please, stop... it hurts"

He continues to twist your nipple even harder. 

"I AM, I am beautiful" you yell out. 

"That's right," Satori releases your nipple and starts gently massaging the sore area with his palm, without slowing down the pace and strength of thrusting. 

"What else?" looking into your eyes, long, slender fingers tenderly caressing your breast area, periodically making a circle movement around your areola. 

"I am smart"

"Good girl"

"I am sexy" 

"You're right, princess" he increases his pace, grabbing your hips and slightly lifting up your pelvis to hit the spot. You let out a loud moan, trying to stabilize your breath. You feel your orgasm coming and your vaginal muscles slightly pulsating as you finally come on his cock, his pace being as fast as before. 

"I am loved"

Tendou leans down to kiss you. You do not resist. If at least somebody can love you, then it's better than nothing. Your tongues weawe together like snakes during mating season. You can't believe that you don't want to pull away from your kidnapper, all you want is this moment to last forever as your bodies unite in one.

You can feel him gradually increasing his pace, as it becomes harder for you to breathe. He gets it as he pulls away from you and finishes inside you. Picking up from the floor the broken mirror glass to carve into your skin "beautiful" and "mine".

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part thirteen - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: rape/non-con ; violence ; blood ; violence against women ; name-calling, bullying, and fat-shaming ; self esteem issues ; awkward, embarrassing situations

He doesn’t come back. From the time she wakes up at 5PM, she waits for him. Impatient, distracted, not knowing what to do to pass the time. Midnight peaks around the corner ominously, and she’s pacing back and forth in the living room when Michael walks through the door.

He smiles big, sets his bag down on the counter, and greets her. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to see him tonight,” she says, trying not to start crying like an idiot again.

“Oh, hun,” Michael sighs. He pulls her into a cold hug after hanging his jacket up. “Did he tell you you would see him tonight?”

She shrugs. “He said maybe.”

Michael motions for her to sit on the couch. His hair is still glittering with icy rain drops. “Well, at least he’s not lying.” 

“I’m just confused. I don’t even know if he actually likes me.”

“If he’s kissing you and introducing you to his friends, then he likes you. Men are stupid. They think that things can be simple and clear cut, but they don’t factor emotions into their master plans.”

“So you think I’m just a fling?” She asks.

Michael cringes. “Honestly, I don’t know. On one hand, he sounds like he wants you in his life, but, on the other, he seems distant and secretive.”

She nods. “But I haven’t told him how I feel, either.”

“That’s the other thing; most men, like I said, emotionally inept. They need it spelled out. Maybe try telling him or asking him?”

She almost bursts out laughing at that, but just ends up snorting and rolling her eyes. 

Michael laughs for her. “Why do you think I’m so bad at commitment? You tell a guy you really like him and suddenly you’re dog shit.”

“You tell anyone you really like them and suddenly you’re dog shit,” she clarifies.

“Men have broken my heart so much and disappointed me that I should be a nun,” Michael nods. “But, here I am, a slut.”

“You’re not a slut, Michael.” She glares at him. 

“Well, if I’m not then I should be. Seriously, how many guys have smashed your heart into pieces? I’m betting the number is one or more.”

“Honestly,” she replies, turning toward him, “my worst heartbreaks haven’t been through relationships. Family and friends have fucked me up worse.”

He pats her shoulder. “See, I envy you. You don’t need anybody. You’re strong.”

Now that, makes her burst out in laughter so hard she shakes with it. 

“I’m serious.” It’s Michael’s turn to glare. “You’re self made. No one helped you get here. You clawed and fought your way to the top despite being hindered every step of the way. For Christ sake’s, you put yourself through nursing school. You’re a tough bitch and you need to start acting like it.” He pauses, collects himself. “Sorry.”

Her mouth folds in, eyes looking down at her hands. “You’re fine,” she tells him.

“I’m just. Sometimes you talk so bad about yourself that it’s just kind of pissing me off.” Michael grabs her hand and squeezes. “I get that you think bad about yourself, and it sucks. But if you don’t value yourself, then neither will leather jacket man.”

Michael’s words sting. He makes her realize that she’s fallen into a pattern of feeling sorry for herself, and it’s sabotaging her life. The depressing epiphany would be helpful if she knew how to fix it.

“Let me help you get more confidence,” Michael asks. “Come out with me more often. Go shopping with me. Get your hair done just for the thrill of it. You just said the other day about how you wanted to get a haircut.”

All of that sounds truly wonderful in theory, but what about reality? What about the fact that she has no idea how to style her hair or act confident?

“When you were young, what did you do for fun?” Michael asks. 

“Went for car rides, read books, watched movies, walked.” 

“Did you ever play a sport, go to prom, have a shopping spree, go to parties?” Michael asks, eyebrows pulled down in concentration which probably means that he’s trying to fathom how anyone can not do those things when they’re  younger.

“No.” She looks away, embarrassed. 

“Get your nails painted, make out with cute boys under bridges?”

“Nope.”

“Jesus,” Michael sighs. “Then we have a lot to catch up on, don’t we? Oh-“ he puts his hand out to stop himself from talking. “My mistake. We can cross the making out off our list.” He grins. “Unless he isn’t cute.”

She drops his hand, laughing sheepishly. “He’s…” she struggles to find the right word, but gets upset just thinking of his absence. “Very cute.” She finds herself sinking into the memory of high cheekbones and woodsy eyes and thermal skin and hungry, rough lips. 

Michael waves his hand in front of the glassy look on her face. “Oh, god,” he murmurs. “You’re totally fucked.”

——————————-

Michael thrusts a lace babydoll into her chest so hard that it makes her stumble backward. “Here, is this your size?”

She looks around the room to make sure no one’s watching. Just other women minding their business and digging through racks of lingerie. 

She glares at Michael, because he promised that if she at least went in to Victoria’s Secret, he wouldn’t give her any suggestions on purchases. And here he is, handing her a piece of fabric that won’t cover her thigh let alone whole body. 

She sticks it back on the rack it came from. “I don’t think it will fit me.”

He sighs, rummaging through the underwear bin. “How do you know until you try?” 

She picks up a tiny, silk thong from the top pile and shows it to him. “How can you wear this stuff? Isn’t it in you the entire time rather than covering you?”

Michael takes the panties from her and examines them, chuckling. “No, see, you’re looking at them wrong. This one my ass would swallow.” He tosses it back, and holds up another in its place with seemingly better coverage all around. “This one would be cute yet practical.”

“Hmmm.” She tilts her head, trying to understand what he’s talking about. “I’m pretty sure my ass would swallow all of them.”

Michael sticks his tongue out at her. “No need to brag.” 

While Michael decides on underwear, she goes to smell the perfumes. Now this, she thinks, Victoria excels at. In fact, she just might buy a cotton candy scented bottle that’s half off and the lotion to match. She makes sure this is the one she wants, though, before taking it up to the counter and checking out. 

Michael is proud, grinning, patting her on the back as they walk the mall. “See, Vickie isn’t that bad.”

“Eh, she smells nice, I’ll give her that.”

They both share a giggle. 

She asks Michael if they can go into the book store, and he rolls his eyes. 

“Babe, no offense, but you go in without me and I’m gonna check out Sephora.” 

“Ah, that reminds me.” She taps her face. “When are you teaching me how to do winged liner?”

“As soon as you buy eyeliner,” Michael replies. “Which is why you should come to Sephora. I mean, not to sound like a vapid bitch, but.. the book store? Really?” He’s smiling, teasing her. 

“That’s why it’s here, right?”

They part ways. 

She didn’t want to tell him the real reason she came in, which is to get a present for John. If she ever sees him again. 

She goes right to the romance section and begins to peruse around for something he might like. 

The Jackal and the Cat, One Foot in Santa Monica, The Clandestine Candle . 

She tries to picture him reading any single one of these, but her mind comes up blank. Maybe he meant that he likes older romance books? She walks to the classical section. 

Two men in suits standing by Agatha Christie’s showcase catch her eye and remind her too much of a certain well-dressed gentleman she admires. Both are tall, well built, fancy and stoic, looking very out of place here in Books A Million. 

They unabashedly and suspiciously watch her, and it freaks her out enough that she ducks behind a case of Edgar Allen Poe and Shakespeare. Weird merging timelines, but a great safe haven. 

A small elder woman with white, wispy hair, dark skin, and sharp grey eyes smiles brightly up at her. She wears a black pant suit and smells like flowers. Tasteful jewelry adorns her neck and wrists. She has a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo in her hands, flipping it over to examine the shiny hardback spine. 

“Oh, excuse me dear, but could you do me a favor? I left my reading glasses at home and I’d really like to hear the summary on this. Can you read it to me?”

She smiles back and takes the book to do as requested. 

After she’s done stumbling over her words, the older woman looks entranced and astonished like she’s one of the best storytellers from this century. “Oh, that sounds wonderful,” she says, folding the book into her weathered palms for safe keeping. “Thank you so much. Have you read it?”

“Um, yes, I think in highschool?” Her cheeks get a little warm with embarrassment from being visibly uncultured in front of this sophisticated looking individual. 

“Ah,” the stranger muses, “and A Picture of Dorian Grey?”

“I, um, wrote my big book report on that one,” she chuckles, rubbing her arm. 

“Anything specific you’re looking for?” The woman asks, ready to return a favor. 

“Romance? Something cultured? Older?”

The woman puts a finger to her lips in thought, then her grey eyes light with an idea. “Come with me.”

She’s surprisingly light and quick on her feet for a woman of her age. She actually has trouble keeping up as the tiny woman floats through the store until settling at the back wall. A large sign above the shelves reads: ROMANCE. 

The older woman, knowing exactly what she wants, narrows in to the right handed corner. She fingers through some hardbacks, pulls out a plain blue novel, and hands it to the waiting person behind her. 

In Safe Hands by Jane Sanford. The inner synopsis promises a thriller romance with a great twist. Plus, it’s a beautiful book. Simple and hardbound, shiny Robin blue. Something that John would appreciate, hopefully. 

“Have you ever read this one?” Soft white hair floats into view as she examines the book. 

She looks up and smiles. “It’s not for me.”

The elder smiles and the devilish look makes her seem years younger. A certain knowing reflects in her face. “Ah.” Her tone is teasing. “A love interest, perhaps?” 

The accent wasn’t noticeable before, but now it’s apparent. Some kind of rich, articulated drawl that she thinks she’s heard before. 

Her skin heats. “Yes.”

“My, you live in this moment and love it no matter what hardship it brings.” Her crinkled eyes run up and down over the expansive shelves of paper before she looks back up at her and smiles. “Love is rare, you know. At least the good kind.”

She chews her lip. “The good kind?”

The woman chuckles. “I can tell you have the good kind. You’re buying them a romance novel. It can’t be anything else but the kind of love that makes everything else seem dull.” 

She wants to believe this desperately. The words resonate in her chest and pound true through the pulse of her arteries. Once again, she misses John violently. Misses the feelings he gives her. She rubs her fingers over the spine of his present and thinks of his wish to be a librarian. 

The old woman pats her shoulder. “You have a great day, dear.” 

Her attention is drawn back to the movement of her acquaintance. She never noticed the the two men from earlier standing behind, still staring daggers at her head. They tuck the tiny, waving lady between them, and disappear behind shelves. 

She meets Michael at a pizza place near the exit and tells him about the weird encounter while they eat. 

“You’re living in a romance mystery novel and you refuse to buy lingerie?” Michael rolls his eyes. “That checks out.” 

She shrugs. “It’s more pathetic than that.”

“I got you eyeliner,” Michael tells her, taking a bite of baked ziti. 

“Michael!” She admonishes. She grabs a bag from their feet and opens it to show him the eyeliner, lip gloss, and small eyeshadow palette that she purchased after leaving the bookstore. “Do you really have that little faith in me?”

Michael cringes. “Yes, but I’m surprised and proud.” 

She grins. “Thank you, I guess.” 

They take Michael’s car to a little coffee shop on Wall Street Court that Michael promises she’ll love despite the hustle and bustle at the heart of the city. He gets a big iced vanilla latte and she orders a smoothie. They sit next to floor-to-ceiling glass windows that give an amazing view of the lavish cityscape. 

Important men in business suits and beautiful girls in bodycon dresses flit in and out of crystal business doors. Expensive limos line the streets. It’s strange, to have this scene at her back door when she’s always felt so separate from it. She watches like it’s a movie. 

“Do you want to go to the theatre?” Michael asks, tapping at his phone. “Emily and Syreeta are going and want us to join.”

“They want you to join,” she corrects.

Michael glares at her. “Were we not just talking about this self pity thing? They don’t hate you.”

It stings because he’s right, but climbing out of a pit of despair is harder than it looks. Every time she tries to get a hand on the ladder rung above her, the hating darkness bats her away and keeps her stagnant.

“They just didn’t talk to me in the club,” she explains.

“Funny, they said the same thing about you. Just be yourself, like you were with me. When you actually talk, you’re the easiest person to get along with I’ve ever met.”

She sips her drink and thinks about it. “Thank you, Michael, but you’re pretty easy to get along with, too.”

He sighs, puts his phone down, folds his hands, and leans over. “You coming or not? It’s the Nutcracker. Uh, hello, earth to -“

Her attention is totally and suddenly taken by something on the other side of the glass window. Her eyes have that unfocused, enraptured look again, and Michael waves his hand in front of her face. “Babe?” 

John Wick stands on a street corner, waiting to cross, hands in his pockets. He’s dressed in a black suit and red tie, hair fluffed back, looking as good as ever. Michael glances over at her center of attention. 

“Oh my god, it’s him, isn’t it?” Michael is suddenly whispering as if this is top secret information. “Which one?” 

“Shhh,” she says, embarrassed, looking away, playing into the top secret thing despite no one in here caring about them or what they’re talking about. 

“Listen,” Michael tells her, pushing his coffee out of the way so he can lean over the table. “If you want to go after him and ask him what the hell is up, I don’t blame you. In fact, I support this cause and am here to help.”

“He might be working, Michael,” she says, looking away from John reluctantly. 

“Only one way to find out,” Michael grins. “Go after him. Show him that you’re serious.”

Michael’s suggestion is all too tempting. Mostly because she misses him dearly even though it’s only been around 24 hours since they last interacted. It’s obsessive behavior, borderline creepy of her. He’ll probably hate her if she walks up and talks to him, now, but on the other hand, he’s the one barging into her apartment without an invite and cornering her at clubs and waiting outside for her to get home. Isn’t it fair if she returns the favor, shows him she wants this just as much? She glances once more at his broad back while he walks down the opposite street and she makes a split second, dumb decision that she normally would never even think about making. 

She gets up, grabs her jacket, tells Michael she’ll be back, and slides her chair in. 

Michael yells after her as she walks out the door. “Don’t get kidnapped!! If you’re not home by midnight I’m calling the cops! You better text me! I’m drinking the rest of this smoothie!”

She’s too clumsy to be any sort of sneaky, but she doesn’t really care if he sees her walking behind him - trying to keep up - because he’s going to get a full view of her anyway when they’re face to face. 

The sidewalk and streets are blessedly clear of ice and slush and snow, and if she didn’t know better she’d say that divine intervention was on her side, because if she had to walk this fast on slippery ground, she’d already be K.O.’d by the earth. 

John turns a corner and she is practically running to catch up with his long legged stride. She murmurs sorry as she whizzes by nicely dressed street patrons a little too closely and receives glares and annoyed murmurs for her trouble. By the time he stops, she’s struggling to catch her breath. He stands on the steps of a large building constructed to take up two corners of the street. It’s center piece among the business district, white and huge.

A bellman dressed in silver and red stands at the door and waits patiently for the only visitor, John Wick.

Shes grateful that he’s stalled on the steps, staring at a phone that she didn’t know he had, too distracted to see her as she clears the busy street. Drivers lay on their horns, someone screams at her out of a passenger window, and, finally, when her feet hit the curb and she almost wipes out trying to get away from moving traffic, John turns. 

“Are you following me?” He wears the exact opposite expression that she wants to see; hatred and anger slash his angular features into something to be afraid of. 

She feels like a fox in a henhouse with the farmers gun pointed at her muzzle, head between her legs and automatically backing away from him. She misinterprets his own fear with disgust at her behavior and now she just wants to turn tail and leave, but the doorman sees her, and he undoubtedly notices her connection to John, and it’s far too fucking late for that. 

There is a point that needs to be made to protect the precious pumping blood inside her body and he can’t decide what to do to get that point across when adrenaline is binding fury and fear inside of him tighter and tighter. He feels the tick of his watch against his wrist and relates it to her dwindling innocence and safety. He stalks toward her, one step from him matching four of her own.

John grabs her up by the bicep and drags her along like a stuffed doll to his car that’s parked around the right side of the building. 

His grip is hard enough to sink bone deep and make her ache, but she shuts up and lets him take her where he wants, too ashamed to argue with him now.

She’s not even sure what’s happening when he hustles her into his backseat and makes her lay flat down on it with her legs curled up on the freezing bench.

He doesn’t bother telling her to duck into the safety of the vehicle, just handles her into a fetal position himself. “Stay,” he says, and the door shuts behind him, leaving her alone and shivering in the cold leather. 

She hears the click of a lock and buries her numb face into her jacket. 

Charon is waiting at the front desk to greet him with a placid smile. John flips him a gold coin in greeting. “Charon.” He tips his head as the man catches his bribe. 

Charon’s smile turns ardent. “Hello sir, nice to see you, what can I help you with today?” 

“I have a guest in my car. Could you take them somewhere comfortable, safe, secluded while I do business?” John’s voice is poised but his eyes are pleading. 

Charon slips the coin into his pocket. “Of course, sir.” 

His tensed body relaxes while one of the few people that he trusts to protect an innocent woman takes his keys and leaves the building. She still won’t be safe enough for him to feel entirely calm, and he only has a second to regret not putting her under his arm - the only place she will be completely protected - before he’s walking into the dining hall to meet Viggo and Winston. 

“John,” Viggo cries, standing and pulling him into his side for a brief embrace. “Three minutes late?”

Cool sweat forms under his collar at the comment while he tries to remain composed in the face.

Viggo looks suspicious. But John can’t decide if it’s because of a tell on his features or the fact that he’s never been late twice in his entire life. 

Viggo motions for him to sit, still cheery. Winston stays tight lipped, formal, poised. John envies him for the mastered skills. 

He’s so wound tight that he almost jumps when he feels the oncoming, light pressure of a hand on his shoulder. He’s never been like this in line of Viggo’s sight, and he knows that the man can tell he’s not himself, but he can’t seem to get the vision of her bloody, pulseless body out of his mind. And what he will do to everyone in this hotel as a consequence of it.

“Hello John, can I get you something to drink?” 

He turns to the waitress and tries a smile. “Hello Rachel, nice to see you. I’ll have a Blanton’s. Ice, please.”

“On the rocks,” Rachel winks at him. “Got it.” As she walks away, Viggo talks business. 

————————————————————

Charon is very nice. He introduces himself, assures her that she will be an “honored guest”, and lets her sit up front while he drives the car into the attached, Continental branded parking garage. 

The section they settle John’s car into is filled with other expensive-looking vehicles. She recognizes BMWs and Jaguars from TV commercials. Charon insists upon opening her door, much like someone else she knows, and then guides her to a big silver elevator with neon, red and green buttons blinking in sequence on an expansive wall panel tucked to the side. She thinks he’s going to press one, but instead, he pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks the plain metal door beside the elevator that she assumes, at first, is unimportant. 

The staircase is lined with soft blue paisley carpet and the walls are decorated with pictures of strange art pieces. She stares at distorted naked bodies and eyeless characters and blurred grey crowds and angels battling bloody demons on top of cotton candy skies as Charon leads her into the dim underbelly of the hotel. 

“They are all painted by former and current members,” he tells her. 

“They’re really amazing,” she says, not wanting to push questions in fear of offending the overly kind man guiding her to safety that she didn’t even realize she needed until she was being manhandled into John’s back seat.

If she lives through this, she’ll have to get permission to take pictures and show Michael. It’s strange, to not know if she’s going to be alive tomorrow or not. Fatality that seemed so fanatical and far away two weeks ago now stands at her doorstep waiting like an expectant courier and she’s starting to get used to its harrowing presence. 

Charon lands light on his dress shoes off the last step, and waits for her to catch up. She stumbles a bit on the rough rugs, and he reaches out a hand to steady her shoulder while she smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Do not be sorry,” Charon tells her, patting dust off her jacket. “These floors need a remodel. This is our old entrance: The only people that use it are the ones who can navigate it blindfolded.” 

He motions her into a doorway that leads to a drastic change of scenery. In here, everything is modern and brightly illuminated. There are grey leather couches seated around a large table in the center of the room. A bed with black, shiny sheets sits perfectly in the open floor plan, with bamboo plants flourishing on each side of the wide mattress. There is a room that she assumes to be the bath, because it’s the only part of this place with a door attached. Two glass coolers glow with rainbow assortment bottles of alcohol and seltzer waters. 

She blinks up at the high ceiling, too distracted by the view to hear Charon ask her if she would like something to eat. 

“Miss?” 

She stops and looks at him. “What? Sorry?” 

He repeats the question. Her stomach growls, but she tames it and tells him that she’s fine, not wanting to be a bother. 

“Help yourself to the beverages,” Charon motions, referring to the large coolers. “And feel free to use the room as you please until Mr. Wick retrieves you. This is a private, isolated suite we reserve only for select guests. No one will bother you, but if you should need something, please just pick up the phone and I will be waiting on the other line to assist you.” 

She nods at him, using the gesture of gratitude that John favors - already adopting his mannerisms - and gives warm thanks. 

“It is my pleasure,” Charon says, “any friend of Mr. Wick is a friend of mine.”

With that, he leaves her alone in the huge room.

She has a million questions, but none of them seem more important than keeping hold of John Wick, so she quells them and waits like an obedient dog for his return.

————————————————————

Viggo is leaned back, drinking sweet vodka, negotiating the terms of John’s re-employment.

“You were never fired, we held the position.” Viggo rubs the just-greying scruff on his chin, eyeing John. “Winston, can we still smoke in here?”

“‘Fraid not,” Winston replies, taking his own sip of sour scotch and pursing his lips as if in distaste. “Only downstairs.”

Viggo grumbles. “Gav-no. Why didn’t we go down there?”

“I figured it would be easier for you to run and get to your men if John decides to kill you,” Winston shrugs.

His dry sarcasm and witty grin has Viggo laughing. 

John says nothing and takes a drink, trying futilely to calm himself with liquor. 

“I think it was stupid that they put you in prison and didn’t expect this to happen, John.” Viggo bites into his ravioli, chews, swallows. “And if they want a war, I will give them one.”

“We did it to prevent a war,” Winston interjects.

“Bah!” Viggo spits. “The war is already happening - it has been for a long time - what’s a little more blood shed going to do?”

“A lot more,” Winston corrects. “Blood shed.”

Viggo comes forward, eyes determined, tosses the silk bib from around his neck onto the table. “So be it. I want you with me, John. And I will make sure no one makes one hair out of place on your head.” He leans back, done eating. “And your head too, Winston.” He nods at the older man. 

Winston raises his eyebrows and looks at John expectantly. “Your ball.” 

————————————————————

The bathroom is more of a sauna. Different height benches, numerous sprayers on the ceiling, vents that leak hot steam into the room at the push of a button. A toilet with a bidet behind another secret door. The sink is concave marble, adorned with freshly wrapped toiletries and beautiful smelling lavender soap that she honestly thinks about sticking into her pocket and taking home.

Just as she’s about to exit, she hears the loud slam of a door and laughing male voices clanking against one another. 

She freezes, turns the lock back, steps away, looks around for an escape which there is none of. 

Then, a female voice, pitiful and pleading. She presses her ear to the smooth wood, listening as the woman - language different from her own - becomes more distressed. 

Her heart rises from her stomach to her ribs and burns in anger and disgust as she tunes in to the exchange. 

“Look at her, all tied up and nowhere to go.”

“Fucking slut.” A hard slapping sound and then a scream of agony from the high pitched female voice. Then crying and more despicable taunting from the numerous male visitors.

She’s not thinking of anything but that gut-wrenching, memory triggering voice when she pushes through the door and steps out into the room. 

Five young men have a small Asian woman, completely naked and bound in rope, prone on the cold floor. Their hands bruise her skin as she sobs. 

As all their eyes turn to her, reality smacks her in the face like a burst of fire burning her eyebrows off. The woman’s eyes are red and sore, tears streaking down her face. One boot has her cheek pressed down while a hand grabs her hair and pulls taut. 

“Hey,” she says, voice filled with venom, adrenaline in her body fire that smokes her vision. “What the fuck are you doing to her.”

The only problem here is that she’s a lone woman in a hotel room with no weapons and these guys look automatically angry for the interruption. The one with the boot on the girl’s head gets to her as fast as John can, and grabs her by the collar. “Shloondra,” he spits, “tebya nikto nikogda ne uchil ne lezt' v svoi dela?”

Her heart plummets again and her angry glasses cloud with fear. She’s up on her tiptoes, choking at his grasp.

He pushes his face down to her own and she smells the potent liquor on his breath. “Davayte prepodam svin'ye urok.” 

One of his companions answers in English. “Tie her up and make her help.”

They all laugh.

She’s so tired of this shit. Men. Thinking they can do whatever they want with no consequences. Hatred tastes bitter in her mouth, so potent it hurts her teeth. 

And this guy is nothing like Benny. Benny who she couldn’t even fathom fighting because he was so massive. 

This guy is small, thin, barely taller than her. She knows she can hurt him, so she does, slams upward with her knee and makes squelching contact with his dying erection. 

He drops her and she falls back onto her ass.

As his companions laugh, he grabs his dick and moans through his teeth, eyes squeezed shut.

She smiles, but not for long, because now all these men are coming at her with wicked, delighted intent. 

The redhead gets in front of her and crushes her back against the legs of the more muscled member. She’s stuck sitting between them, but she still has her hands and feet, kicks and hits furiously at any soft body part she can find. Redhead yelps in pain as she makes blunt force contact with his balls and screams for someone else to get on her. 

Two grab both her arms and twist them at angles that make her screech in pain. It gets the point across, and she stills. Redhead and Russian guy have stepped away to lick their wounds, but two of the others still hold both her arms in a neatly breaking fashion and the other one has her neck in his hands. 

He pats her cheek and squeezes her trachea to play with how much air she’s allowed to have. 

“Ah, a wild bull.” His thick accent is hard to understand. “Maybe we should have some fun with you?”

“Disgusting,” the muscled one hisses. 

“No, she can clearly eat well,” redhead growls. “Make her eat pussy.”

“Would you like that?” It’s clear now from the combined smell that they’re all very drunk. “You hungry, little pig? Want to get all sloppy at the trough?” 

Her wild eyes catch the ones of her bound counterpart, and this woman almost looks bored in sharp contrast to herself. The agony is gone from her face and she’s watching this scene and practically yawning she’s so uninterested. 

She doesn’t have time to be confused before one man twists her arm back again, and she’s sure it’s going to break, so she screams. 

The Russian claps a hand over her mouth and tells her what she thinks is the equivalent of shut up. 

Charon opens the door, John catches her scared eyes, takes in the picture, and the last shred of his building anxiety snaps in half. 

First, he charges the one holding her throat, and a defensive hand doesn’t have time to raise before John returns the favor, grabs him by the neck, and tosses him into a wall.

He’s ready for the other ones before they have time to realize he’s an enemy.

She watches the unfair fight play out, not because she wants to, but because watching John move is like watching a captivating, bloody ballet, and it’s hard to look away. A big, dumb part of her feels bad for these stupid punks while he wrecks their shit.

He’s just so much bigger than them that it’s insane they think they can counter him. He looks like a giant being pounced on by miniature people. Maybe it’s just the way he doesn’t even try to hit them that makes him seem so massive in comparison. Flipping someone over his shoulder looks like playground antics.

Two by two they fall, until the last one pulls a gun from his holster and aims it at John’s chest. John moves an inch, the bullet hits him in the shoulder, and he simply grunts, inconvenienced, like a bear being shot with a paintball, knocks the gun out of his opponent’s hand, and moves forward, backing him up and glaring down at the man who is visibly shaking in fear, head down to submit, hands in the air to keep the massive predator at arms length.

He grabs him by the neck and this guy is thick but John’s whole hand covers his throat and turns him blue in the face. He lifts him completely off his feet with his right hand, and punches him in the face so fast and graceful that it doesn’t even look like it would hurt until she sees the blood fly out of his skull and his nose cave inward. 

He’s done with them, so he goes right to her, pulls her up and holds her at arms length to make sure she’s not hurt.

She pushes against him. “John.” Her urgent tone directs him to the woman bound Shibari style on the floor.

John releases her and they both go to help.

She starts working at the knot around her wrists and stomach while John cuts her ankles free

He moves her fumbling hands aside to slice through the rest of the half-assed binding job.

“Nǐ huì shuō Zhōngwén ma?” The free woman addresses her rescuers.

John stops. “shì.”

John and the woman have a full conversation that she can’t understand.  Catching any word is truly pointless.

The woman sits up and pats her on the shoulder. Then, she rubs her bare breasts and yawns. She tilts her head at John, questioning. 

The woman talks again, this time pushing perky tits out and pouting at him. 

John motions to her and replies. 

An unexpected spike of jealousy jabs at her nerves. Now that, she thinks she can ascertain the meaning behind.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” She asks him. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” John says. “They paid her to have sex with them.” 

“She was screaming.”

John shrugs. “That’s what they wanted from her.”

She feels so stupid it hurts. “I’m an idiot,” she whispers. 

“She doesn’t think you are,” John says. “She admires you.”

She resists the urge to ask him what she really cares about, which is what he thinks. 

They are all sitting on the floor criss cross applesauce like in 5th grade reading class when Winston and Charon enter scene.

“Jesus,” Winston says, looking over the mess. “Is anyone dead?”

“No,” John assures. 

Charon starts profusely apologizing to John, but John shakes his head at the repentance and looks, instead, at the naked woman, asking her to tell the newcomers what happened. 

Naked woman sighs, annoyed but agreeing.

Winston lays adoring eyes, flooded with realization, on the clothed woman sitting at John’s side, and smiles warmly. He comes and holds out his hand for a shake. 

She gives him her own hand and he flips it over and kisses the back. He looks at John while she warms with embarrassment. 

“You sure know how to pick ‘em..” Winston muses.

The muscled man tries to stand, but Charon pushes him back down with a Valentino heel. “Sir,” he alerts, motioning at the pile of men. “What should we do with them?”

“Probably something involving a doctor,” Winston says.

“Right away, sir,” Charon nods, pulling a phone from his pocket.

“Are you hurt?” Winston asks her, examining her closely. 

She shakes her head no, but points at John. “He got shot.”

Winston looks over and John pulls his suit open to reveal a clean white dress shirt free of bullet holes. 

She has to look twice and second guess her own eyes.

Winston sighs. “He wears Kevlar. Most bullets don’t pierce it. He’ll be alright. He’s taken worse than this, I assure you, my love.” He must see the worry on her face because his voice soothes and tames. 

She looks at John with a million questions in her eyes, but asks none of them, which he’s thankful for. 

Winston addresses the person in the room with the least clothing and they talk for a moment. 

John puts his hand on her shoulder and slides over to talk low in her ear. “Did they hurt you?” He asks.

“Not as much as you hurt them.” She tries to comfort him.

“I’ll kill them if you want me to.”

“No you will not.” Winston switches from Chinese to English, turning on his heel to point a warning look and finger at John. “I’m already going to have enough trouble trying to make it seem like this wasn’t business, Johnathan. Plus, I don’t think Viggo will keep you employed if you kill his son.” 

John sucks on his teeth and glares at the annoyance that is Winston’s rude interruption before focusing back on her. “My offer stands.”

“No,” she tells him, looking from him to Winston. “I don’t want you to kill anyone.” She grabs his hand and squeezes, pulling it into her lap. 

She sounds like she means that, so he stays put, but he hasn’t decided for himself whether they’re going to live or die yet. Especially when they leave Continental ground and hunting season opens.

A loud knock brings the conversation to a small Asian man in a white suit and slacks entering the room. He wears a stethoscope and carries a brief case. 

“John.” His set frown turns into a natural smile. “Long time no see.”

“Hey Doc,” John nods.

He sets to work like this is all completely normal. The smell of ammonia and iodine and salt is an affront to the senses as he opens his briefcase and begins waking the Russian up.

John tugs on her as if to escort her away, but Winston stops them. “Let me get you out of here so that no one sees her.” 

John settles, but he’s not taking chances, so he drags her into his lap with her head tucked under his chin and his tight arms wrapped around her protectively. Want her, go through me - the point is apparent 

“John,” she grumbles, squirming to adjust, embarrassed by his parenting behavior but clinging to him anyway. She’s just happy he doesn’t seem to be mad at her now.

Naked woman comes over and snuggles into John’s side, gripping his bicep to bulging, starring smugly at the groaning group of bleeding, bruised men. 

John side eyes her, but allows it, reasoning that she must be weary of them trying to get their money back, and not one to deny someone - who is seemingly vulnerable - protection. 

Jealousy rears its ugly head again and she resists the urge to glare at this beautiful girl pressing her bare breasts into John’s side.

Viggo’s son sits up, spits out blood, and looks their way. He opens his mouth to say something, but the look on John’s face makes his snarl falter. “John,” he nods in greeting. 

“Iosef,” John nods back. 

The braver Russian man starts with venom, but Winston interrupts him. “If you think I can actually keep him from killing you or worse, you’re very wrong.”

He closes his jaw.

She feels like they’re in kindergarten and they have all just gotten into a fight so the teacher is making them sit on the floor and have quiet time. 

Violent stares, instead of words, are shot back and forth until the doctor breaks a nose back into place. 

Then, the only voice that has occurred in a while is the scream of this man.

John wants to make them apologize, because he knows she’s hurt by the things they said about her, but he doesn’t know if it would actually help her self esteem or harm it, so he stays quiet and promises death with his eyes. 

“Now,” Winston addresses the room. “Unless you wish to forfeit the protection this hotel provides, you will forget this happened.”

“He beat us up,” the man with the thick accent argues. 

“And you broke into a private room and assaulted a woman,” Winston tells him. “Sounds like you started it. If he’s in trouble, you’re in it bigger. So, nothing happened, correct?” 

“We payed her,” Viggo’s son growls, starring at the naked woman who clutches John tighter.

“That’s not the woman I’m referring to,” Winston says. 

She looks up at John and it seems like he’s daringthe other man to say something. She pulls at his shirt to get his attention, and he looks down at her, misreading the worry on her face.

“We’ll leave soon,” he says.

She sighs and leans her head on his chest, giving up. 

Winston begins to say something, but interruption comes in the form of her phone’s vibrating ring. 

All eyes focus on her as she digs it from her pocket, puts it on silent, and texts the frantic Michael that she’s fine and she’ll explain later. 

John makes a mental note to beat the roommate into submission so that he’s a little less possessive. 

“Uh, sorry,” she tells Winston. 

“Quite alright,” Winston assures, smiling big at her like she can do wrong. 

John refuses to let her go until they’re in the back seat of an unlicensed black suv and being driven away from the building. 

Even now, he keeps her tucked under his arm. 

She looks up at him. “Sorry,” she says. 

He keeps his eyes on the window scenery to avoid making her feel awful with his uncontrolled, cold expression. 

He sucks on his teeth. “We will talk, not here.”

He pulls her further against him and she stays quiet. 

[poggieking3]

piping hot take! i do not really like PTSD being thrown around with the main 4 (mario, 3, 4, and meggy). i have C-PTSD so i can say shit on this. 4 nearly DIED in that castle and was left traumatized, meggy was mentally AND psychologically tortured for AT LEAST a month straight, mario has his own demons i'm SURE, and 3 is on his way getting more trauma. give these guys a BREAKKK they've gone through way too much, how much else are they going to take.

whole fucking rant under the cut

like, okay please don't get me wrong here. i like puzzlevision, i actually really like him. he is interesting, his character his interesting, i love his character design, his personality. i fear that this mini series will end up having 1 or multiple of the main 4 getting traumatized, and then have it never touched on again. this happened to meggy DEADASS like her trauma was never mentioned again after western spaghetti. wren easily fucked her up for LIFE. and it's just? forgotten...?

like holy shit i wish PTSD was handled more accurately in this series, especially as of recently. i like how melony's was handled. she was grieving deeply for axol and helped herself cope by adopting her pet axol jr and taking care of it, and keeping axol's memory alive. meggy was grieving deeply for desti and trained hard to fulfill desti's wish and win the splatfest, also keeping desti's memory alive. 4's castle trauma also was done right. bro was having a whole bipolar manic episode and was SUFFERING from his own nonexistent self-worth and self-esteem, and was taken advantage of completely by puzzlevision. he watched EVERYTHING around him crumble. he watched HIMSELF crumble and was an outside witness to it, with no control. then, meggy being tortured and killed over and over and OVER again is quickly forgotten about, just like that???

i love PTSD representation in media. i cherish it. it makes me feel seen. i'm just. upset how wren fucking RUINED meggy's life by torturing her over and over, killing her, making her lose her sanity and trust, and then it's. never mentioned again. she has hands down gone through THE WORST of the entire cast. i fucking know what it's like to have my life ruined by people, multiple people in my damn case. i did not go through what she did, but if my trauma was cast off to the side after the movie it occurred in i'd be MAD for sure!

i've talked about how i'd handle meggy's trauma. after wren broke her fucking mind, she'd be coping EXTREMELY poorly because of how much she endured. she'd be inconsolable. she'd be emotionally unstable and lash out. she'd feel threatened by tiny inconveniences because they'd remind her of what wren put her through. she'd be terrified of male inklings. she'd have CONSTANT nightmares since every day in that simulation, she woke up in bed remembering each fashion wren killed her in. she'd pat her chest and stomach, scared she got shot again. she'd have panic attacks hearing guns go off. something as small as a southern accent could set alarms off in her head.

if i had a nickel for every time meggy's life was threatened by a villainous man hellbent on scarring her for life, i'd have 2 nickels, which is weird how it happened twice. she wasn't even safe ON HER OWN VACATION?

i just don't get how the movie pretty much made her suffer repeatedly and there's nothing as small as a reference to her trauma in the current episodes? we saw her fight off wren in that tier list 3 and 4 made together because 3 said she has plot armor. but that's it!

put the solar system bitches in a series of happy, wholesome filler episodes and PRONTO. give these guys a trillion dollars in compensation each. imma be real upset if, after the puzzlevision series, the trauma relating to it is never heard of again, ESPECIALLY given that puzzlevision's been a prominent threat for a solid year now

luke and kevin i love you both saur much i just. clenches fist to myself.

[stuffnonsenseandotherthings]

Crackpot Predictions - Only Friends Episode 1

Welcome to a new thing I do where I try to predict (*cough* wildly guess *cough*) what's going to happen in a show based solely on my read of the first episode. I'll try to cover all of what I think are the main story beats, record them here for posterity (and so I can either say "ha I told you so" or you can all point and laugh at me later), and hopefully by the end of the series we'll all be able to see if I'm a clairvoyant with a magic orb or, alternatively, a numpty with a glass paperweight. Some of these predictions are completely serious, others are complete crack, and some are just random thoughts that had the misfortune of wandering into my head.

With that, let's get started shall we?

The Hostel

Setting up a hostel for your graduation project? How cute!And with your best friends too? How adorable!

Too bad that hostel is absolutely Not Going To Happen. And not only is the hostel Not Going To Happen, its also going to be the site of some of the worst moments of your entire lives!

Prediction: is this is where it's all going to go down, this is where they're going to have the final argument, this is where the climax is going to happen, this is where shit hits the fan and then explodes. I mean why else would you introduce a building site if not to have all your characters have mental breakdowns symbolically in the middle of it? Scaffolding and painter's tarp is for screaming matches and for saying things you never meant to say.

Mew

Oh Mew. Soft, virginal, innocent Mew. Mew who lives in a completely different world to his friends where he wears cute pastels, gets a teen movie montage when he wakes up in the morning, gets a public confession like something out of a romance movie... Surrounded by people with impure thoughts and even worse intentions. What on earth is going to become of our sweet pastel boy?

Who am I kidding, he's going to be fine.

In fact he's probably going to be one of the few people who is fine by the end of this series, and will probably be at least partially responsible for quite a lot of other people being very fucked up (especially Top, sorry my man but you are doomed by the narrative). He's definitely doing to be hurt and he's definitely going to lose his honour student title and he's definitely going to have less friends by the end of this but he'll be fine, he's literally the only one in the friend group other than Chueam with the emotional maturity to cope with and process what's about to happen.

Prediction: He's going to lose friends (but not Chueam, she'll stick with him), his academic record is going to be messed up (but not irreparably so, he'll just have to put in extra work to repair it), and he won't have a boyfriend by the end of the series but he'll be okay, he'll be able to walk it off when it's all said and done. He may even start to get his man back (if he wants him, that is).

Ray

Poor Ray, he's a rich brat who clearly has some self-esteem issues and is whipped for his best friend. He's in for a rough ride I fear, especially seeing as he currently deals with his emotions by getting very drunk and/or lashing out.

Sand will probably be good for him (perhaps a little too good for him) in both bringing him down a peg and hopefully giving him the kind of ego boost he actually needs (no Ray you are not a burden but please stop ruining your liver) and I'm really looking forward to the development of their enemies to fwb relationship and all entails.

Unfortunately for Ray he looks like he might be a bit of a bleeding heart romantic on the inside so he's probably going to get his heart broken twice in a very short space of time; once by Mew and his new relationship and then once again by Sand and his refusal to play second fiddle and Ray is only going to realise this when it's a bit too late. Needless to say Ray will probably not be having a fun time for most of this series and of all the character he is tied as most likely to end up in hospital at some point.

Prediction: He's going to lose friends, he's going to fail his degree, he's going to get his heart broken twice and he's probably not going to be okay about it (but hopefully he'll be on the mend by the end of it all). Ray is going to start shit he can't finish and he, more than anyone else, is going to be a victim of his own actions but hopefully he's also going to be the character with the most growth. Sand might be around to scrape him off the floor at the end, but Ray is going to have to work himself out first.

Boston

Boston, what to say about Boston other than currently he seems to be trying to break the record of most men slept with in a single episode (his competition is Brian Kinney from Queer As Folk btw).

There's definitely a lot more than meets the eye when it comes to him and I look forward to unpacking all of his messy laundry when the time comes. He seems to be both incredibly confident with his life choices (good for him) and incredibly insecure about them at the same time which is fascinating and I definitely get the feeling that he has issues with Mew (to the point where I wouldn't really say they're actually friends) because of that insecurity. I genuinely wouldn't be surprised is at some point we get a lot of pent resentment spilling out from Boston about Mew because no one casually mocks someone they're genuinely okay with that many times behind their back.

Prediction: Boston wants but he doesn't quite know what. He is definitely blowing up every single friendship he has in the process of working it out and he's probably going to find himself on his own for a while too, which might actually be what he needs. That being said, if anyone decides to put forward a laurel at the end of the show though, I also think it's going to be him. I also predict no romance, but I also don't think that's what he wants or needs.

Top

Top the Top Tier player who's never not got his object of interest before. He likes casual sex, comes off as a bit of a sleaze (but at least a sleaze who respects boundaries), and is apparently looking for a new challenge now sleeping around has got boring (but not boring enough to not sleep with Boston again).

The problem for Top is that he thinks he's approaching Mew in his world and on his terms where in reality he's already dancing to the tune of Mew's fiddle and it's only going get worse. Mew's world has rules and regulations and things you just don't do (like sleeping with your boyfriend's best friend) and Top is going to find himself caught up in them. What's worse is he's probably going to find out (much too late) that he wants to be caught up in them. Top might be the big man now but he is well and truly fucked.

Prediction: Top isn't going to take his relationship with Mew 100% seriously until he realises he's already completely invested in it and at that point it's going to be too late. He's definitely going to break Mew's heart but Mew is going to break his ten times over and he's not going to recover easily from that. He might have a chance at redemption, but only once he's completely wrecked himself first.

Sand

Sand was just trying to live his life and then he threatened to pee on someone's head and it all went down hill from there.

At the moment he seems like the audience stand in: watching all the chaos and wondering what on earth is wrong with all these privileged brats (semi-affectionate). Like Mew he definitely seems to have himself together in a way that makes me think he'll come away from this pretty okay emotionally (it'll hurt but he's not allergic to emotions, he'll heal). Unlike Mew he definitely doesn't seem to completely together life-wise (i.e monetarily) though, which does make me wonder if our 3 friends (I'm not including Chueam in this, she's not a guilty party) are going to mess that up for him instead.

Prediction: Emotionally he's going to be okay (although he probably has heartbreak in the cards), in every other aspect I think he'll sustain the most damage (and therefore will be entitled to compensation). He feels the most like an innocent bystander and, as such, is definitely going to regret the day he lay eyes on the back of Ray's head. Out of all the characters, he's probably going to be the one due the most apologies all while having done very little to anyone else.

Nick

Wow well Twison changed when he went to uni, wasn't expecting that trajectory at all 😋

In all honesty I feel like I have the least to go on for Nick in terms of predictions (not that I have much to go on for anything else I've been saying). He seems to be completely gone for Boston already (oh Babe he is not a good target to fall head over tits for) and I like the idea that's floating around that Nick is already familiar with Boston somehow based off his reaction to their first meeting.

That being said, I am getting a little bit of a creep vibe from him (maybe it was the invasion of his client's privacy and subsequent masturbation scene that pinged the alarm idk) but I can't help but feel like everything Mew said he'd do if he slept with Top? Yeah Nick would actually do all those things and more. So yeah, while Boston is going to mess him up with their ambiguous relationship, it's only because Nick was pretty messed up in the first place and he'll end up messing Boston up right back with his clingy/obsessive tendencies.

Prediction: Looks like a marshmallow, is actually on fire. Things are going to go wrong for him but only because things were not right in the first place. Possibly the most likely to actually need therapy. I also wouldn't be at all surprised if he's the one to swing the bat that brings it all crashing down, in fact in this crack-pot prediction, I'm expecting him to.

The Friendship Group

Is going to be in tatters by the end of this series, I'm so sorry Chueam. (I mean is this even a prediction or am I just stating the obvious?)

Prediction: Mew and Chueam are probably still going to be friends (they seems like the closest to each other) but no one else is going to be talking. Ray might have Sand (and Chueam if he doesn't fuck up too much) but Boston going to be on his lonesome and so is Top unless they want to throw a pity party together. At the end of the show there will be a tentative reconciliation, but with the knowledge they're never going to be the same, never going to be as close as before.

TLDR + Extra Predictions

Mew: About to have the worst time of his life but he'll make it through, his pain is going to end up being other people's problem.

Ray: Poor, unfortunate soul checking in at heart-break hotel twice in the space of a few months. Most likely to get his man though.

Boston: Needs to figure out what he wants. Probably going to end up completely cut off from everyone but also most likely to extend the peace offering at the end.

Top: Fucked. (Might get a chance at redemption at the end if he's lucky)

Sand: Emotionally fine, financially screwed. Out of everyone he has to most to complain about and he doesn't even go here.

Nick: Most likely to need actual therapy.

Climax: A big argument at the hotel surrounded by the ruins of their hard work

Likely scene: All of them at Yo's bar they used to go to as friends but this time ignoring each others existence.

Likely scene 2: Boston unleashing a load of suppressed resentment towards Mew, possibly to do with their different lifestyles/world views.

Best chance at romance: Chueam

Best chance at staying friends: Chueam and Mew

Key theme: The importance of friendship

Me: happy to be proven right or wrong with these predictions and here for the wild ride regardless.

And that's it! As I said, these predictions are completely pulled from the air around a single watch of episode 1 so they're not at all serious. If I'm right yay, if I'm wrong also yay, I'm just happy to be watching, I just thought it would be fun to test how well I can predict a narrative based on very little information indeed. If anyone wants to share their own crackpot predictions I am more than happy to hear them, let's clown together.

[silusvesuius]

Your Depiction of Ulfric is literal perfection. I’ve never seen anyone who sees him in a similar way to me, until I found your account last year. I fucking love miserable old man Ulfric who could never catch a break since the day he was born. Every major event in his life (he can’t even decide which one’s the worst) shaped him in the worst yet most interesting way possible. I can’t speak enough about him, his messed up self esteem clashing with his ego, his repressed emotions and sexuality, his shattered image of his own body and mind, the constant loud arguments between the voices in his head (mostly just him arguing with hallucinations) *I’m definitely not projecting here* his unstable mood, his flashbacks and his odd obsessions with random harmful patterns he associates with familiarity. Because to him familiar=safe even if he’s basically only familiar to a constant state of worry and feeling like he’s being targeted or hunted down.

None of this seems to be getting better, at least not in a notable speed. Yet they’re all existing within a strong and powerful man. It’s quite the combination, he’s being weighted down by all of that baggage but his back is too strong to bend. He appears as if he has nerves of steel from the outside, but really if anything is made of steel in his mind, it’s the vessel that he uses to bottle all of that trauma up.

I already had a vague idea of his complicated relationship (obviously) with Elenwen but your version literally felt like it opened my third eye. It is scrumptious and your art is so beautiful it depicts every essence of it all perfectly without even needing to include words. I fell in love with it at first sight.

dis answer is kinda long so i'm (crumpling it up and tossing it under the cut)

Omg wtf Thank you's 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕💕 this is so well put together into words; i will do 9543 backflips for demented ulfric always. i've grown to like him in canon too cause he really has that, wouldn't even call it deceitful, weirdly-content personality.. but i don't think anyone in the writing room in sk*rim HQ knows how to write a character that has been through Anything, event of any kind, so he seems too 'perfect' for a person that has been through literal physical torture, to me, and his reactions to things that should be greatly upsetting are too mild. even though him being elenwen's victim is a piece of information that's easy to miss it seems like it also completely slipped out of the writing IOFDHDJFUIO LOL.. it all obviously adds up to him seeming more appealing as a fashie character to the audience, cus a visibly mentally unwell man wouldn't do it for most people, especially when you want to sway someone to be on his side of things.

i think it's quite smart for the st*rmcloaks to be presented as the more warm and welcoming types of people but ulfric should be the coldest of them all. Bro shouldn't even have the mental and physical capacity to seem Content with his life especially in that moment. he should be the type to use his civil war motivations as an excuse to stay alive if that makes sense, cause i don't think he really wants to live, but he has things to do to keep his mind and hands busy xchkvcjcvkl//

i also really love how ulfric only has galmar as someone he's really close to, it always seemed beyond genius to me, to write them like that, it's cute... he rly is the only person to suffer thru 4 hours of ulfric Peak psychosis monologue followed by 2 hours of trying to prove to him that th*lmor and imperial soldiers aren't hiding in the chests and under the beds of the palace LMFAOO galmar is the one guy who he can sob in front of and act like a little baby fishing for compliments and reassurance, and, not all that related to ulfric as a whole, but i strongly believe that having him be so vulnerable with galmar would make galmar really excited, it would make him feel good, like no other damsel in distress could deliver that feeling EVER. having such a seemingly-strong political figure rely on you Badly and madly would feel like something else entirely 💗 it's very off-putting and perhaps inappropriate of him to feel that way when ulfric is just searching for stability, but i think that even if ulfric knew galmar felt that way he wouldn't really gaf LOL. he'd turn to elenwen if there was no one else to go to cause he 'knows' her, and he'd torment elisif cause he 'knows' her as well.. but he would be completely closed off from making connections with other people 🏆

+ bonus; elenwen's feelings for him would border on everything at once, like, every type of relationship and connection that ever exists.. she really views him as the food she left over in the fridge and will get to eat when she's back from work as a reward

tl;dr him being scarier and more .. unkempt? from the outside would make him even cooler tbhs. he should become christian and develop religious OCD

[jae-bummer]

What Is Probably the Worst Pep Talk Ever

Request: hi! could i request for a scenario with jay park where his girlf teases him and denies him of skinship (doesn’t hug back or give him kisses) i love the way u write sm, thank u if u choose to write it. also while ure at it im curious whether ur username is inspired by him.

To answer your question, my username is actually inspired by Jay B from Got7! Got7 was actually one of the first groups I stanned :)

Pairing: Jay Park x Reader

Genre: Fluff (Warning: 18+ for language and steamy commentary)

.

"Are you nervous?" you asked, stepping into the elevator.

"Nervous?" Jay chuckled. "Not even once in my life."

"Am I misremembering?" you hummed, tapping your chin. "Or didn't you say you were nervous the day you asked if we could be exclusive?"

"Well, I mean," he cringed.

"And what about the time when we had first started dating and you said I made you nervous?" you continued.

"You must have dreamed it," he said, fighting the corners of his mouth from turning upward. "Jay Park is never nervous."

"Says the man talking about himself in third person," you laughed. "You still haven't pressed the elevator button by the way."

"Shit," he muttered, stepping forward and furrowing his eyebrows. "What floor did I say we needed to be on again?"

"11 maybe?" you tried. "Maybe if you weren't so nervous, you'd remember."

Shooting you a glare over his shoulder, he stabbed at the appropriate button, and stepped back to stand beside you.

You couldn't help but chuckle as you tucked yourself into Jay's side. He was easily the most self-assured person to ever suffer from self-esteem issues. While the two traits sounded like they shouldn't intermingle, they somehow did. He liked to play at being cocky and keep his image intact, but you were the one who saw him lose sleep over some of his daily decisions. It had become one of your sole missions in life to make sure that he knew a healthy amount of worry was okay. He didn't have to conquer the world every time he stepped foot out of his door.

"Who all is supposed to be at this thing?" you sighed, adjusting your outfit.

"A lot of industry people," Jay grumbled. "A lot of people I need to impress."

"Is it a need or a want?" you asked, looking at him from your periphery. Judging by the little wrinkle in between his brows, you weren't sure if he was even listening. "Jay?"

Shaking off his trance, he turned to you with wide eyes. "Yeah?"

"You didn't hear me, did you?" you grinned.

As you spoke, the elevator finally stopped at your desired floor and started to slide open. Wrapping his fingers around yours, Jay took a deep breath. You could immediately feel the sweat coating his palms.

"I say this with love," you whispered as you moved forward into the hallway. "Please, please, wipe your hands on your jeans."

"Y/N," he hissed. Taking his hand from yours, he wiped helplessly at his thighs. "My palms don't sweat."

"Then they're crying."

Taking another deep breath through his nose, Jay placed his hand on the small of your back and leaned in. "Have I ever told you that you are the cutest, most fucking impossible person I have ever met?"

Spinning away from him, you grinned. "Have I ever told you that when you're worried about something, you clench your jaw? It's kind of hot but can't be great for your teeth."

"For the love of God," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Could you please just support me here?"

"Why?" you asked, fake confusion coating your features. "Are you nervous?"

If looks could kill, you would be dead on the floor. Finally conceding, you reached forward to weave your fingers through his. "Baby, being nervous isn't a bad thing. It just means that something important is happening."

"Fine!" he gasped. "You caught me! Jay Park is actually stressed the fuck out!"

"Third person-"

"Y/N," he deadpanned.

"Okay, okay," you cooed, patting him carefully on the chest. "What has you stressed out?"

Glancing over his shoulder and toward the sounds of the party you were supposed to attend, he looked back at you. "Do we really have to do this right now?"

"No one is going to hear you admitting your weaknesses," you chuckled. "Just tell me what's going on in your head."

"Okay, for one, I don't have weaknesses, so let's establish that right here and fucking now."

"Of course, baby."

He rolled his eyes and began to pout. "I just...don't want to look stupid."

"You know you're the best at what you do," you nodded in what you hoped was encouragement. "Even if you do make yourself look stupid, you always save it somehow."

"But these people, Y/N," he clucked, shaking his head. "They're next level. Investors I need, executives that could have a lot to say about my next moves-"

"And so what?" you asked. "You may not be the tallest in the room, or the most well-spoken, but-"

"Ay! Ay! Ay!" he grunted. "You are shit at pep talks, you know that?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, which in turn made him give you a reluctant smile. "You have you're short-"

"Watch it."

"Shortcomings," you asserted. "But everyone does. You overcome yours every time."

"Yeah, I do, don't I?"

"You do," you smiled. "I know you're your own biggest fan and I'm likely the second biggest. Let me step into that number one spot and have your back tonight."

"Pfft, unnecessary," he chuckled. "Even if I'm struggling, I still got me."

"Of course!" you huffed. "So silly of me to even suggest otherwise!"

Pulling you into him, Jay wrapped his arms around your waist, and nuzzled his face into your neck. "Look at you with that big, sexy brain. Making all of the sense in the world."

"More like stroking your ego in the precisely correct locations," you laughed, scrubbing your fingers across the back of his scalp.

"You can stroke me in other ways tonight," he whispered, biting playfully at your ear.

Moving to face you, he leaned forward to attempt a kiss. Naturally, you turned away. His lips met your cheek, causing him to groan.

Laughing, you turned toward him again, and pulled him in by the shoulders. Smiling up until the moment your lips met, you allowed yourself to get caught up in the man that drove you crazy. In true Jay fashion, he slid his hand down to give a tight squeeze to your butt, causing you to squeak in alarm.

"I think I'm ready now," he hummed. "You?"

"I've been ready," you said quietly. "I was just waiting for you to be too."

[stromuprisahat]

I always wondered how it was possible that Alina immediately believed what Baghra told her about Aleks, without having the slightest doubt? It's completely ridiculous. Who would trust a woman who has been nothing but rude to you? Verbally degrading/insulting you at every opportunity, and fucking kicking you during your lessons? Yes, who would trust that, rather than the man you spent 6 months building a relationship with, who encourages and values ​​you and who you have feelings for? I don't understand. Especially without any proof?! The painting they added to the series will always make me laugh. Doesn't it even look particularly old? How is that proof? And all the Baghra talk about the Darkling having had centuries to learn how to properly manipulate people... I mean. Girl. You just learned that this woman is his mother. His mother, who raised him and who is undoubtedly older than him. You do not tell yourself that it is she who could be manipulating you? Oh. Of course not seeing that Leigh Bardugo is trying to push that bullshit of "women do no harm." completely knew how the king and queen would behave, seemingly taking the blame off them?! There are two ways to deal with this stupid revelation from Baghra. Number one, that Alina just fucked him. (the most realistic and logical thing). Or second, Alina realizes in the sequels that she was stupid to believe Baghra and realizes her gullibility/naivety. But obviously, we had neither. The worst thing is that a friend of mine literally told me that she would have also directly believed Baghra, which... is completely stupid? Her response was that she basically trusts no one. Well very well. But why trust the person who treated you like shit over the person who was good to you? On the contrary, if you are paranoid you generally don't listen to the person who has been a mess with you.

I could sum the answer up into three points:

Aleksander and Alina didn't really have a relationship in books. Sure, there was the journey on the horseback, then they talked like three times (and always shortly), before the most awkward immortal kiss ever. The Darkling's away most of the time, or busy with his duties. No riding together, no midnight flirting like in the show. That's also, why are the antis' common notions about manipulation or even grooming so off the mark. He simply wasn't around for any of it.

Alina is pretty prejudiced. She doesn't trust the Darkling since the beginning even though he's only been kind to her. Thanks to her low self-esteem, even his attention seems like a good reason to wait for the other shoe to drop. Hell, when he wants to ask her about her first day, she's expecting torture! Learning she's been right all along, and he isn't honest about his interest in her is self fulfilling prophecy.

Alina has a gigantic blind spot, when older female figures are concerned. She was raised by a woman, who's been anything but kind, yet she idolizes her childhood and their relationship. Seeing another (shitty) mother immendiately triggers "obedient good orphan" response, and Baghra's claims become The Word Of God™.

In the show, Alina looks simply stupid. She's older than her book counterpart, she acts more confident, yet her actions are more immature. If your reaction to claims of an abusive woman, regarding her alleged son you're intersted in romantically, is to run away instead of confronting him, you might not be fit for that kind of emotional commitment. And he deserves better luck with women in his life.