#this ones actually really important to me

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

heyo! this isnt really about the comic, but i was wondering---do you ever feel weird talking about rose's identity as pink diamond? ive been thinking about it and ive always felt strangely odd about referring to rose as pink diamond. i think it almost sort of feels disrespectful, like deadnaming? its just something thats been on my mind haha

I actually really appreciate you giving me a chance to rant about this a bit.

This is a thing that bothers me. A fair bit.

No. No you shouldn't.

Alright, but let's step back and discuss.

The truth is, I don't actually think my stance on this is THAT extreme.

There are people that make a direct connection from Rose's predicament to deadnaming. And while I agree that this is an apt metaphor, it's also slightly more complex than that. Should we, as an audience, constantly refer to ALL iterations of the gem now known as Rose as only "Rose Quartz"?

I personally don't think so. I think there are times when it's narratively appropriate to refer to her as Pink Diamond.

When?

When she's Pink Diamond.

Like, yes, there are entire spans of story when Rose Quartz simply did not exist, as a concept. And if I am talking about her time living as a Diamond, I think it's fully appropriate to refer to her as Pink.

But the thing is. The thing IS.

Rose CHANGED. That's the entire--that's the whole POINT.

PINK changed. Into Rose.

And was it something that wiped her slate clean? No. Was it something that erased her past mistakes? No. Did it magically, all at once, make her into a better gem and a better person?

No.

But. She did give up that identity as Pink. When she started a war - that wasn't as Pink Diamond. ROSE started that war. When she had Steven - that wasn't as Pink Diamond. ROSE made that choice. It's an important distinction, and it's not only more respectful to her character, it's also important AS A VIEWER to realize that Rose is responsible for things in the same capacity as Pink.

If we just erase her transformation into Rose, and call her Pink Diamond across the board, we are making a statement - no matter if it's consciously or not - that nothing Rose did to change herself MATTERED. That her past, her Homeworld-assigned identity, will FOREVER be more important than anything she did to change herself thereafter.

We are submitting to the same ideals that Homeworld pushed on us as the antithesis of the whole show.

I just can't get behind that.

....

And look, I get it. It's fun to be in the comments when things like THIS happen in my comic:

And go off like "OOOOH, PINK, YOUR SECRET'S ALMOST OUT BABE, YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR BACK"

I don't necessarily want to shame those people because I think it's the same impulse that makes people scream like baboons when they're at a sportsball match and one little guy in a colored shirt gets the ball from ANOTHER little guy in a DIFFERENT shirt and it activates some sort of neuron that makes the thinking stop.

However. It does feel weird to me because

That's not Pink!

That's not Pink, fellas! It's Rose. She's been Rose for like 5000 years.

She WAS Pink Diamond, yes. She isn't any longer.

Pink Diamond is gone. ROSE has to deal with Pink Diamond's past now.

Give her some credit. Let her carry the sins of BOTH people. She deserves it. And there's more drama in it, anyway.

[chrattvibe]

you can make it up but can you do smt like chris being really pda with the reader and like matt and nick make fun of him but the reader loves it

៹ Seen. chris sturniolo.

The pins fall with a clean, solid crash.

“STRIKE!” Chris shouts, in his head. On the outside, he stays cool, just turning around. When he notices my phone recording him, he does a silly celebration dance. Then he searches for my eyes once he sees I stopped filming.

"Did you get that? Did I look cool?"

He walks over with that proud grin and his arms already wide open, expecting a hug. I don’t even get a chance to stand — he drops right next to me on the seat, wraps me in his arms, and hides his face in my neck. I run my hand down his back and feel a soft kiss on my skin.

Just a few feet away, Nick rolls his eyes from his seat.

"You guys are actually disgusting." he mutters, right before it’s his turn. Without waiting for a reply, he heads off to grab his ball.

"Don’t say that!" Chris says, now properly settling next to me, slipping an arm around my waist.

"He’s joking, relax," I say when I notice his frown. I rest my hand on his chest, smiling. His face softens and he adjusts his hat, brushing his hair back.

Chris doesn’t even flinch at his brother’s comment. He pulls me in with that cozy warmth he only gives off when he’s comfortable. He fixes a strand of my hair and caresses my cheek. He looks so comfy, like we’re sitting in his living room, not in the middle of a bowling alley under blue lights and surrounded by people.

"Careful, anyone here could take a picture of you," I say, gently holding his wrist. "Chris Sturniolo spotted flirting with a mystery girl at downtown LA bowling alley..." I read aloud in the voice of a random gossip account.

"Couldn’t care less right now," he says with a lazy smile, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

"I just don’t wanna cause you drama or headlines. I know what the Chris girls might say," I add, teasing.

He looks at me, suddenly serious.

"Then let 'em know. Let 'em all find out. You're good for me and that's all that matters."

His words catch me off guard. I smile — it’s the only thing I can do. I gently cup his face.

"Did you spike your Pepsi and not tell me?"

"I’m just drunk in love with you," he says, immediately back to being goofy. I roll my eyes, and he flashes a long, sweet smile before giving me a slow kiss and lacing his fingers with mine.

Matt walks past us with a slice of pizza in one hand and a lemonade in the other. He hears the tail end of it and raised his eyebrows.

"Wow. Did I miss something? Chris became boyfriend of the year while I was grabbing food?" he says, sitting across from us.

"First of all, I’ve always been boyfriend of the year. And second, you didn’t miss anything important. Just made the best shot of the night." Chris says with a shrug.

"Cocky." Matt mutters with a mouthful of pizza. My name flashes on the screen, signaling it’s my turn.

Chris gives me a wink, a little squeeze on my thigh, and I head off to the lane.

While I’m lining up my shot, the boys keep chatting behind me.

"Are you two celebrating an anniversary or something and we’re just the third wheels now?" Nick says, dropping down next to Chris.

"What are you talkin' about?" Chris chuckles, sipping his soda.

"We’ve seriously lost you, kid." Matt says, cracking his knuckles and stretching his arms.

"I’m just happy, dude. I’ve never felt like this before..." Chris says quietly, like he’s confessing something they all already know.

"We’re happy for you. It’s weird seeing you like this, in public. Makes me wanna throw up, but it’s kinda funny." Nick says, earning a light punch in the arm from Matt.

"We’re just messing around, okay? But keep those corny Instagram stories in close friends for now. The world’s not ready for two cutie like you guys." Matt teases with a grin, getting up to take his turn. "But seriously, we’re happy for you. Both of you." He claps Chris on the shoulder and heads off.

Matt gives me a half-smile as we cross paths, and I head back to Chris. I stay standing next to him, and one of his arms wraps around my thighs from where he’s seated, resting his head on my stomach. I run my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

And this time, I don’t care if anyone sees us or recognizes him. Because I like seeing him like this too — almost wanting to be seen.

Masterlist!

Notes: thanks to the person who made this request! I hope you find this post and like it <3 let me know!

—chrattvibe.

[salty-autistic-writer]

Buck has something to say. (Or: an alternative take on that kitchen scene)

“I think you should leave.”

The words cut into the cold, tense air in the kitchen like a knife.

They take Buck's breath away for a stunned, heart-stuttering moment. Did that just come out of his mouth?

Eddie finally looks at him, finally sees him. “What?” He asks, baffled.

“I want you to leave,” Buck repeats. And yes. He does. He’s tired of this. Tired in general. Enough.

Eddie blinks, his lips slightly parted. He exhales a disbelieving scoff, throwing his hands in the air. “Really? We are doing this now? Now, when we are both grieving? Seriously, Buck …”

“How dare you?” Buck hisses, curling a hand into a fist. “How dare you suggest I didn’t do what I could. That I didn’t do enough to, to save Bobby?”

“Buck,” Eddie starts.

No.

Buck raises his hand. “Now you listen. You listen to me. I watched him die, Eddie. I watched Bobby die. I saw death on his face, in his eyes. I was there. And I was alone. Bobby knew he was going to die, and he sent me away. He … He said I’m going to be fine. But I’m not. I’m not fine. And that’s okay. Because I just lost one of the most important people in my life. Bobby was the father I never had.”

Eddie sneers. “Bobby was your Captain. Our Captain. We all lost him! You don’t get to claim him! We all have to live without him, move on with our lives. But you don’t see any of us behaving like a child throwing a tantrum!”

Buck crosses his arms over his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. “I’m not a child, Eddie. I’m an adult, and I have enough of you telling me how I’m supposed to feel. These last few days, I’ve been thinking about the 118 all the time. About how to fix everything. Because everything feels so cold without Bobby. Everything feels broken.” 

He stops, swallowing heavily. There are so many emotions bubbling up inside of him. And now he can’t stop. He has to let it out.

“You are my best friend, Eddie. I thought friends are supposed to be there for each other. I thought a friend would be able to offer some kind of comfort. But I guess you’ve been too busy with your own grief. Look. I’m sorry you had to wake up at night and hear about this over the phone. But that’s not my fault. And it’s not my fault that you had to tell Chris either. It’s also not my fault that Bobby died. I didn’t want any of this to happen. And every day, I wish I could go back in time to change things.

I’m not okay. And you should know. But here you are, telling me I might not have done enough. You of all people should know. You should know what Bobby meant to me. But it starts to feel like you don’t know me at all. I’m not that great at communicating my feelings or, or my needs. But I’m working on it. And what I can tell you right now is that I’m tired of this, Eddie. I’m tired of being blamed and being told I’m making everything about me, when actually, my stomach, chest, and head hurt every day when I think about everyone else and how sad they are. That includes you, by the way. But I guess, in some way, I lost you too. Now, leave. I want you to leave.”

Buck stops, breathing heavily. It’s been a long time since he talked so much. Maybe he never did. But he needed this. Needed to get this weight off his heart.

The rage inside him is loud. But the sad and aching part of him hopes that Eddie will say No, I won’t leave. Hopes that he will stay. That he will say, it’s okay, we can solve this problem. We can talk. We can comfort each other. We can work on fixing this.

He looks at Eddie, and inside, he’s yelling. Say something.

But Eddie only stares at him, his brows furrowed and his jaw tense. Finally, he nods curtly and says, “Alright. Alright, Buck.”

He storms out of the kitchen. Buck can hear him pack his bag. His stomach sinks. So. That’s it then. There’s nothing left to fight for, it seems.

His heart pounding, Buck waits in the silence until he hears Eddie walk out and slam the door.

He winces, wrapping his arms around himself, breathing heavily. He feels so cold. And alone. Tears are burning in his eyes.

God. Everything is so broken.

Buck wipes at his eyes with the back of his head, sniffs, and reaches for his phone with a shaky hand. He hesitates. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe it’s selfish. But … he needs. He needs a little bit of warmth.

Hey. Can you come over? Only if you have time. I really need to talk to someone.

He sends the text after staring at it for a few long minutes and tries to ignore the voice in his head calling him pathetic.

* Buck opens the door and Tommy smiles at him, “Hey - What’s going on?”

Too much.

Almost instantly, the smile fades and Tommy’s brows furrow as his eyes flicker over Buck’s face, down to where he’s nervously fidgeting with his fingers.

“Evan. Are you okay?”

No.

Buck just shakes his head. He talked so much. Now, he doesn’t have any more words left. He’s empty. 

Ashamed, he lowers his head. Avoids prying eyes. He shouldn’t be like this. He’s an adult. Maybe Eddie is right. Maybe he is nothing but a child throwing a tantrum, making everything about himself …

“Come here,” Tommy says softly.

Buck looks up, seeing Tommy opening his arms. He exhales shakily and falls forward into the embrace. Sinks into it. Into the warmth. He closes his eyes and allows himself to feel safe for a moment.

Everything is broken, but this feels like a shell he can hide in. At least for the moment.

(AO3 Link)

[loveafterdeath-if]

Yeah, similarly to what another anon said, I was kinda hoping for this to be a story about moving on after losing a lived one, specifically your partner, which I thought was a beautiful and heartbreaking concept, and while we did get that in the first few chapters, it feels like this plot twist kind of defeats the whole point.

Though, unlike the other anon, I personally will probably continue reading because I think you are an amazing writer and because I love Ekissa. The only thing that makes me not sure about continuing is that the situation is a bit awkward, makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, so I was wondering about how you were going to manage it? Because MCs moving on process obviously gets cut short, but for those of us who are gonna romance someone else, we still need to finish that process, and one important thing when moving on from an ex is time apart, especially for one you were grieving not so long ago. Otherwise old feelings, nostalgia and a lot of other emotions get mixed up and that would probably lead to confusion. (Sorry, for the long paragraph, just a bit worried about how this is gonna continue)

It's heavy spoiler territory, but I'll have to address this for anon. And it'll be a long-ass response, so be prepared,

You are right about one thing, the whole plot falls apart if El is alive, doesn't it? And like someone said in the LAD discord "why love after death then". They didn't phrase it exactly like that, but you know what I mean. The plot does start with El, but it won't end with them. Idk how to explain without giving away too much, lol

There are clues that El isn't really dead in the first chapters. The flowers MC receives, and now players know El was the one offering them. The doc and Athiel never talk about death when discussing El. MC doesn't have the right to go to the funeral or even see El's body. Even L being called by Juliet at the beginning will have its importance. They're small details, nothing too obvious, but they're here.

I'll be honest, sometimes when writing Athiel talking with MC, I struggled to remember El wasn't dead because I tried to make it look and feel like El was dead, so I drowned a bit in that department.

The characters might seem like a lot, but each has their own purpose, big or small. Some are a breath of fresh air for MC since they're not caught up in all the drama and can be objective. Others are here because they'll play an important role later. Then there are those who serve as reminders of the past with El (like the neighbors). And some are just like those background characters in anime; you don't even see their features because they're just there to serve a small purpose and keep the intrigue going. They come and go.

Sorry, I'm talking too much. So how I'll manage it, is by—and it's where it's gonna get tricky—make MC aware of it as soon as possible. There will be a reunion between MC and El. The tricky part is showing that El won't remember MC, no matter how much/if the MC tries to jog their memory.

The past El is dead; the memories won't come back, and if any fragments do resurface, El won't feel the love they once had. It's more like a ghost of memories; their body remember, but it's more mechanical than actual feelings. Like an old habit that won't go.

MC will have to grieve the old El anyway, even with them actually alive.

In El's route, it'll be all about falling in love again, getting them out of this toxic relationship with their mother, helping them learn to love themself again, and living with someone who is El but not the El you used to know. They have trauma, the confidence they once had is gone, they're insecure and they're more reserved than before.

Juliet is like, the first villain before introducing the final boss. What I wanted to do was weave two kinda plots in the same book because I didn't want to make two separate books. Love After Death is Love After Death for a reason. The plan is to make the players realize that El wasn't the focus of this book in the first place.

I hope there won't have any inconsistencies in this story, but if you find any plot holes, you're free to let me know, and I'll do my best to improve. It's only with advice and constructive critique that I can do so. I'm sure there are blind spots I won't see right away; I'm only human😭

[holymolyyikes]

what if indeed...

I / VI.

We exited the store, making our way to the park. Ellie, my friend, had to duck the doorway. Somehow, I never failed to note how tall she was – of course, she was almost two metres tall, so it’d be even harder to miss.

‘I don’t think they liked us,’ She said.

‘Why?’

‘We look like a comedic duo. Me, tall, you…’

‘Yeah, thanks. You know, I’m actually really grateful I’m short. Could you imagine not fitting into / around anything?’

‘Ever heard of standpoint theory?’

‘Yes, actually.’

‘You know, I think there’s quite a few parallels to be drawn here from Nietzsche’s On the Genealogy of Morals, where – ‘

‘Nerd.’

‘Speaking of, I actually read a study about the subconscious effect of doorknob height on – ‘

‘Geek. Square.’

‘Who else is going to talk about it, if not us?’

I suddenly dashed away into a major road, bag dangling in the wind. Suddenly, I was hyperaware of the breeze flowing dangerously close across my body, or maybe that was the wind of the cars. After an exhilarating few seconds, I had crossed. After a dull minute of waiting for Ellie to cross through the underpass (she had to duck, again), she had crossed.

‘Brooke!’ She shouted from across the park.

‘Yeah?’

‘Dumbass.’

‘I saw a gap and I took it. It’s not even that heavy anyway.’

‘I don’t want to see you hurt.’

‘Then think of it like this.’ We started walking. ‘If I live, cool. If I get hit, sure there’s pain, but what happens happens. I’m fine, I’m fine. I go to the hospital, either I’ll be fine or I won’t be. If I’m not, I won’t be around to know. None of those routes includes me in any considerable suffering.’

‘Not the being run over bit?’

‘It’s like whatever.’

‘You know that’s not true. What about all the… incomprehensible joys of society?’

‘I always found them too incomprehensible.’

We settled on a park bench, and went to make our way towards it. It was afternoon, but the brief gap in the afternoon where nobody’s at the park. Ellie handed her bag to me, and attempted to jump off a stray bench and over a hedge, practically successfully.

‘Fine,’ she said, reclaiming her bag. ‘Have you seen these new super-tariffs in America?’

‘No?’

‘Oh, man. Well, Trump, or one of his guys, said they’d be putting ‘super-tariffs’ on selected currencies. Economists still don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.’

‘I didn’t hear. Let me check.’

I pulled out my phone as we approached.

‘Can you do my bag? I’m looking it up.’

‘Sure.’

‘… There’s nothing here.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Give me like a keyword.’

‘Uh… nevermind actually. Misremembered something.’

‘Guess you’re the dumbass.’

‘Oh, shit, I dropped something.’

We stopped walking, and I leant down to pick it up. It was shaped like a coin, but not one from this country. It was slightly bigger – maybe even slightly oval shaped? – and the ridges on the side that blind people use were oddly curved. I looked closer, shifting into the light. The coin was a purplish gold, with a downwards bump in the centre. Didn’t some countries put holes in the middle of their coins? It was like that. There was some guy on it I didn’t recognise with some text I couldn’t read, but the flip side – which depicted what was either a ladder or a ruler – featured eight visibly embossed letters. I could hear Ellie murmuring beside me. I turned back to her.

‘Does this say – ‘

‘Oh, that’s my tall coin.’ She seemed oddly dismissive, for reasons I couldn’t quite yet discern. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘Is this a, coin for tall people? Do you just like, go into a store and give them one of these and they give you an extra tall drink or somethi – ’

‘I said don’t worry about it.’ I certainly didn’t mean to, presuming it was some sort of fake currency Monopoly-style, but she seemed oddly stressed about it. It was weird.

‘Fine. Can I keep it?’

‘No! No, I really don’t think that’s best. It’s important to me.’

‘Okay, pal.’ I gave it back, but not before I had taken a sneaky little picture.

what if people over a certain height had a special currency called tall coins that short people didn’t know about. And one day you’re walking with your friend (huge) and she drops something and you pick it up and say what is this and she says oh that’s my tall coin don’t worry about it. But you did worry

[marsprincess889]

Vedic astrology observations

Part 11

Or rather: information that I think people forget or do not consider

Enjoy 💕

1. Your Rahu and Ketu axis (signs, nakshatras, houses) is extremely important. To understand and live your life story, you have to look into those placements. Any planet associated with them (conjunct one of them) automatically becomes a crucial part of a person's life story and the themes represented by those planets or planet are like lessons you keep learning or themes you keep bumping into along the journey. There is a highly mythological element to Rahu and Ketu as they are always connected and they always tell a story.

2. Your Ascendant is the filter that everything in your chart goes through while expressing itself. I understood the true nature of the ascendant while revisiting the themes of my ascendant nakshatra and thinking that it was so like me, so me, and yet, it was not really me on the inside, it did not fully feel like me, I just lived it. Ascendant is like the thing you just have to do and go through but even though it's so present and so important, diving too deep into and overthinking those characteristics of yours may not be so healthy. Ascendant is basically the themes of Aries (natural ruling sign of the 1st house) and those include the struggles and uncomfortable sensations that a person has while coming into the body. You may not feel like your Ascendant or connect to it like you connect to your moon but you still live out its themes in the grand scheme of things. And it's important to treat it as what it is_ uniquely important but different from planetary influences. In a way, it's also "mythological" for a person, in a sense that its themes are obvious to everyone (sometimes it can be so straightforward and "in your face" that it might be dismissed) and directly associated with a native's life but it's first and foremost those things, not a deeply buried mystery in a person to be uncovered.

(In short: accept and love your ascendant, embrace it but don't overthink it and do not try to fix it or change it. It is what it is and it does not have to be deeply personal. You cannot really escape it. )

3. Malefics are not always malefics (except maybe the nodes). Saturn, for example, is traditionally malefic for every chart but that does not mean that it gives every single person a really hard time. Unlike other traditional malefics (Mars and Sun) Saturn is directly associated with "hard times", difficulties and obstacles in general. Malefics and Benefics can be personal, and those depend on the ascendant. If a planet rules houses that are considered "negative", even if it's a traditional benefic, then it becomes malefic. The same applies when traditional malefics rule "positive" houses. This is not the exact rule, as sometimes a planet can rule both a "good" and a "bad" house. You can search for benefics and malefics for every ascendant online, it's easily found.

Having Saturn as a benefic is an enormous advantage. Saturn is the real deal. Whatever it gives, you can rely on it. You might struggle with its lessons but once you're done, the reward is true and truly valuable. I've found that, for me personally (Saturn is a benefic for me), Saturn antardashas were never as horrible as people described, and the areas of my life that were represented by the houses that Saturn was transiting in my chart were actually going as I wanted, in many ways. Because I'm also familiar with Saturn's energies (I have Sun conjunct Saturn on the same degree), I have understood its patterns of working in my life from early on. Humility is natural for me, but that does not mean that I don't struggle with it. The good thing about a benefic Saturn is that struggle itself is not a struggle, I'm accustomed to Saturnian energies and as many people have said, including me, Saturn rewards as solidly as it punishes. Saturn is great, I like Saturn.

4. D9 (navamsa) signs work as a layer rather than an alternate chart. The signs are like understones to the D1 and color the native's personality in a truly meaningful way. It's subtle, but it is, in fact, important. I think any individual resonates to people who share one or more D9 big three (Sun, Moon, Ascendant) with them. True for me. I think that even if they're not exactly compatible based on D1, when D9 big three signs (at least one) are the same, there's a natural understanding on a subtle but meaningful level. And you know how you should technically resonate to multiple based on D1 but only a fraction of them feel truly resonant to you for some reason? They likely share D9 big three signs with you.

I'd like to quickly state here, for the hundredth time, that there are no nakshatras in D9 or any divisional chart for that matter. Online calculations might show them but they also show outer planets (Uranus, Neptune, Pluto_ only used in tropical) in nakshatras too, so...

I have multiple posts about this and you're very welcome to read them but I can't deal with more insufficient arguments like "it's debated", "some people say it's really accurate". Like, think for your yourselves, and maybe after reading my posts about that you can come to your conclusion about if they make sense or not.

Some observations about D9 big three (any) in some signs:

Aries: action-oriented and unintentionally blunt, sometimes don't realize how they act, self-reflection is a bit of a struggle but they still do it, can act without thinking much.

Gemini: cerebral and often in their head, love variety, trust their mind more than their intuition or feelings or gut, can analyze too much, versatile, flexible, naturally social.

Cancer: unbelievably sensitive and can be passive-agressive, understanding but self-focused, can be aviodant, not really direct, comfort means a lot to them, secretive but their small actions betray them, may need time to process things, kind-of self involved but often unaware of it.

Leo: pretty direct, love to properly indulge in everything they do, don't like lukewarm or "half here half there" people, basically put their heart into everything, can be too fixed or rigid in their views, value loyalty.

Virgo: have a pure and "clean" aura, simple (in a good way), often express themselves in a clear, precise and clinical way (no matter how they really feel), often they are minimalists, can freeze when they're anxious.

Libra: hate agression, others may accuse them of not having a spine, truly undersranding but also impartial.

Scorpio: no matter how it looks_ they are serious and intense, understand how manipulation works, may feel like outcasts, a tad bit (or not so slightly) vengeful, very protective of their energy.

Pisces: sensitive and flexible, can understand almost anyone and anything, humble yet detached, have something ethereal about their aura, have a broad viewpoint, may have something about them that makes them look like they're "lost".

Do not have substantial info to share about Taurus, Sagittarius, Capricorn and Aquarius navamsas in big three, yet.

5. The strength or influence of any planet in any chart should also be observed from the placement of the planet itself, not from just activations in the nakshatras and signs ruled by them. Of course, those have their influence too, but if we're talking about tge influence from two opposite planets, for example, Sun and Saturn, and a native happens to have a nakshatra ruled by one of them (and does not have a nakshatra ruled by the other) in big three, you should still see if that other planets falls in the 1st or the 2nd house or is conjunct any of the big three (maybe even chart ruler, atmakaraka or Ketu). Chances are that person might feel influenced by that other planet, especially if that first planet is not in good dignity. All planets each manifest their influence differently when they're present as nakshatra rulers from the influence of their own placements.

6. The destiny of Rahu in signs, simplified:

Aries: to act

Taurus: to enjoy

Gemini: to communicate/get across

Cancer: to be safe

Leo: to express

Virgo: to cleanse/purify

Libra: to balance

Scorpio: to transform

Sagittarius: to explore

Capricorn: to build

Aquarius: to influence

Pisces: to transcend

The base/foundation of Ketu in signs, simplified:

Aries: identity

Taurus: resources

Gemini: intelligence/intellect

Cancer: safety

Leo: self-posession

Virgo: clarity

Libra: balance/harmony

Scorpio: depth

Sagittarius: truth

Capricorn: status

Aquarius: influence

Pisces: wisdom

Just a reminder: astrology is best learned from observing and double/triple/quadruple checking the facts yourself. Despite this, the mythological nature of it makes intuitive perception kind of necessary to truly grasp it and understand it. I'd advise to write down your observations or to note them otherwise but do not share them or be sure of them unless you have sufficient proof and enough examples. Also, sometimes your personal experience and a pattern you're very familiar with is enough, there's no need to find an example from media or celebrities. I feel like everyone is just throwing random senstences around on astrology blogs these days and very few of them actually say something of value or make sense.

That's one of the reasons why I'd really appreciate confirmations from you in comments or reblogs or otherwise, on this and other posts too. My posts get a lot of likes but not many get enough comments or reblogs and yeah it would be nice to make my posts more visible, but mainly I just want genuine feedback from people. That's why I want more exposure anyways. So, if you want to comment your example(s) or personal impressions do not think that you're being annoying, that's exactly what I want.

[illusive-delusions]

let's speculate wildly about langdon's marriage, shall we!

a needlessly thorough breakdown of a single scene from 1x02 and what i think it might say about langdon, his addiction, and the state of his marriage

under the cut bc i get rambly!!

so a lot has been said about frank and abby's marriage based on the hints we get here and there in the first half of the season. i've even gone as far as saying they have a canonically bad marriage, which may be a little harsh, but i don't think anyone watching with a keen eye can say in good faith that the langdon marriage has been presented to us as particularly healthy or uncomplicated.

he works a physically and emotionally demanding job for long hours and mediocre pay, and we can infer that she either works from home or is a stay-at-home mom to their two young children. he clearly feels some measure of guilt about the way he preforms the roles of husband and father, trying to make up for his shortcomings with gifts and grand gestures, while ultimately being shown to be ignorant, almost to the point of contempt, of his wife's needs.

and this is all before we (and abby!) find out that he's been putting his life, liberty and livelihood in jeopardy with his substance abuse.

so, i think it's fair to say that we can expect langdon's marriage to be a significant point of contention when we pick back up for season 2.

of course, almost everything that we can say about abby langdon at this point is pure speculation. we haven't met her! we don't even get to hear her voice on the phone! we're only getting bits and pieces of this woman, mainly filtered through langdon's unreliable flawed perspective. so if we want something based in canon to say about the way langdon thinks about abby, his kids and his marriage, we'll have to look at some characters we actually get to see on screen.

we may not get to see abby and tanner, but we do have amanda and tyler:

(and also drew, but he's kinda whatever to my points here.)

tyler is the four-year-old boy from episodes 1 & 2 who comes in lethargic and unresponsive—mel asks for langdon's assistance on the case, and they find out that tyler is sick because he ingested some of his dad's pot gummies. this causes a lot of tension between tyler's parents, amanda and drew, who get defensive when they find out they've been reported to the department of children youth and families (pittsburgh's version of CPS/DCFS). the parents argue, robby breaks it up as the Voice of Reason, mel frets about potentially tearing apart a family, and langdon with his "fellowship in cynicism" argues (correctly) that they're white and therefore won't face drug charges or have their kid taken away. we find out later from kiara that tyler is going to be fine, but that his parents "might need counseling."

and the shift from hell continues!

(side note: i'd actually forgotten, but the STEMI with me, mel moment comes right on the heels of kiara updating mel about tyler!!)

so it's a relatively 'easy' case, and it comes very early in the season, the first time we see mel and langdon working together one-on-one. it's almost forgettable compared to everything that happens later, and it's only after what we learn about langdon's addiction that the last scene with tyler and his parents starts to feel thematically important.

basically, langdon's reactions in this scene are really interesting.

it all starts normally enough with mel and langdon updating the parents on tyler's status, and answering amanda's questions about the potential long-term affects of THC on her son's brain. on my first watch, i was mostly attuned to mel, and her reaction (that langdon totally clocks!!) to amanda's derogatory worries about her son getting autism. but on rewatch, it's what comes next that really stuck out to me.

langdon starts the interaction very polite and professional with both parents, but when amanda gets upset about the mandatory reporting, he immediately gets very defensive, taking on almost the kind of tone we later see him use on santos. he starts talking to her like she's crazy, escalating the situation and making amanda even more upset. he even reaches out in a kind of placating move and she tells him to keep his fucking hands off her, leading to this shot:

which. yes. is the basis of this whole post. but come on. this isn't zoomed in by me, this is the shot as it appears in the show. a mom justifiably angry about her husband's drug use and the way it's endangered her child, juxtaposed against a defensive langdon's wedding ring and the bracelet from his own four-year-old son. you could write a fucking thesis on this shot alone. i mean, i basically am. but never mind.

and langdon's reactions to amanda only get more tense when she starts going off on drew, telling him to stop speaking for her child and that he needs to "get a fucking hotel."

look at the way this is blocked! poor mel is running off to get help, but the guys in the background are framed together in opposition to amanda, and they're both looking at her like she's crazy. in fairness, she is very much freaking out here, but she's also scared for her son, she no longer trusts her husband, and she's just been told that the police may be getting involved. langdon doesn't know it yet, but he's getting a little sneak preview of what his night with abby is gonna turn into!

and when robby comes in to play moderator and calm everyone down, langdon is again alone in the shot with amanda, making a series of increasingly freaked out/guilty expressions as she tells robby that she wants to stay with her son instead of her husband because she doesn't want him around:

patrick ball's acting in this whole scene is so subtle and nuanced as langdon low-key wigs the fuck out in this situation. he is visibly shaken after everything goes down and has to physically psych himself up to get back in the game as robby leaves.

so much about the way this is shot, acted, and edited feels vitally important to langdon's characterization in retrospect. and the defensive way he reacts specifically to the woman in this situation leads me to believe that, at least in the immediate aftermath of abby finding out about everything, langdon is gonna be a fucking nightmare. and while i don't think it would be fair to assume that abby is gonna react exactly like amanda does in this situation, i do think the similarity of the names (abby/amanda & tanner/tyler) and the fact that the boy is the exact same age as langdon's son does invite us to draw a comparison.

long story long, i love that while we get to see first hand how langdon's addiction makes him react defensively and lash out at santos and robby, the show also gives us this glimpse into how langdon and his wife will react to his addiction becoming public in his domestic sphere.

[cosmousee]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝔸𝕞 𝕀 𝕤𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕨?!

Hello cuties! Hope y’all have been keeping well😇

I thought I’d do a reading related to what y’all should be or could be doing, especially if you’re feeling stuck, if you’re feeling you aren’t going anywhere despite consistent efforts or something along those lines. So I thought I’d bring some help! Okay so for this reading I made three chits about whether you should continue doing the thing, or change things up a bit or completely start a new project. I’ll pick one of em for each pile and then I’ll read the tarot~

So let’s get into this! I hope I’ll be able to bring some clarity to you guys!!

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Pile 1>2>3

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ＰＩＬＥ １

Pile 1 your chit is “You’re doing amazing sweetie! <3” Its basically telling you to keep doing what you’ve been doing, and you’re so good at it!! Spirit is actually patting your back and is urging you forward.

I’m getting that image of you know when parents teach their children how to read a bike and they’re constantly cheering you on from behind as you take slow pedals, and you’re a little wobbly. Spirit might’ve guided you at first (and ofcourse they will keep guiding you) but I think they want you to take the wheel (i just wrote week so maybe the coming one is important) and just take your bike wherever you want to go and they’ll always be cheering you on!

Right of the bat guys, spirit is like, LOVE your work you guys!! And not just love ‘the work’, love everything that comes with it, the late nights, the endless coffees, the money, the sense of fulfillment in your heart.

Love the entire process, love the hardships, love the lessons, you’re not gonna get these anywhere else!! I literally cannot stress this in the way they are telling me all this. Whatever it is the good, the bad, the struggles, you gotta love it all to fully capture what you’re doing. What you are capable of doing.

Like its so unique, its so unique to you, its all yours, all those lessons, the success, EVERYTHING is just so uniquely yours. Love that you’re getting to experience all of that!!

I know its easier said than done, obviously who would want to romanticize the hardships, right? I know I understand but sometimes, for the sake of your own sanity you gotta, and it helps in making that moment pass more easily than before.

And you know I had this habit, every night before bed I would just say thank you to the universe, for just about everything, every good time, the bad time, every lesson, every opportunity, because sure in the moment it sucked, but I’m out of it now and I’m feeling better too!

They’re telling you to reminisce your journey from where you started and where you are now, look at those memories fondly, look at your baby self fondly, see how far you’ve come, what you’ve achieved. Remember what your vision was and where you’ve made it.

And look where you finally want to be in respect to that. Send love to all these versions and they’ll send it back to you.

Every time you feel you have a setback, try clearing your head, try visualizing a straight path to where you want to go and just see how easily your energy comes back to you and how easily things start moving and flowing again.

I wish you well Pile 1~

That’s all I have for you today! Thank you so much for reading🎀🌻Please let me know what resonated I love hearing from y'all<3

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ＰＩＬＥ ２

So pile 2, I got the urge to pick up two chits for you and they are, “You’re doing amazing sweetie!” and “Let’s try something new, shall we?”

And um these are two completely opposite chits?! Spirit and their ways man.

Anyways, I feel like if you’re reading this because you’re in a slump and you can’t really get the motivation to do the things you’ve already been doing. Or if you’re working really hard but in the end you’re getting stuck at a wall, it seems like your time of doing that thing is up now, and you might want to upgrade to something, or you know might just start something completely new!

You know how spirit gets when its time to move forward to something else? Yeah, it’s like that. And no, its not like you’ll have to stop doing the current thing for forever. Its like, you know dabble into this new thing because you’re already a master of the previous one, and whenever you come back, you’ll be able to pick it up right where you left it!

It won’t be that oh you’re rusted or whatever, it’s second nature to you. You know its like you’ve cooked in one home for a long time and its muscle memory to know where the ingredients are, where the cups, the spoons, the knives are. But you have to go out to someplace else because it’s calling you.

And when you come back, things will be exactly where you left it and you’ll work with your muscle memory~

There might be something in the back of your head that you have wanted to pursue since forever, like you know something which now sounds like a childish dream, but you know how serious it was for you when you got the urge to start it. Your adult brain might be pushing it to the side, telling you see it’s not practical, let’s focus on what we are doing right now since we are so good at it.

You know how the brain gets shit scared when you’re trying out something new and it gives you every possible reason not to do the thing? Yeah that’s why we don’t listen to our brains alot.

I also got the feeling that another kid somewhere around you has a similar/or the same dream and you hear them talk about it with so much of passion and even your inner child jumps in excitement and they are just waiting for you to follow that!

Just have that courage and take that leap of faith into doing that thing you’ve been wanting and see how much wisdom you gain, what new experiences you get, the opportunities oh so endless.

And don’t worry, the experience from doing your current thing will help alot in starting this new project. You’ll be able to apply so many things you learnt in such a different way and you’ll be like holy crap! That was amazing.

And who knows, the things you might learn doing this, you could apply to your previous project wink wink

Get out there, let your creativity flow, tell your mind to shut up a little bit. I also just got the image of Iron man, just casually doing impossible things!! So lets fkn goooo pile 2, do your best, we’re cheering you on!

I hope I was of help to you!

I wish you well pile 2

That’s all I have for you today! Thank you so much for reading🎀🌻Please let me know what resonated I love hearing from y'all<3

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ＰＩＬＥ ３

We got two chits for you pile 3, and they are “Let’s try something new shall we?” and “We might need to mix it up a little”

I think its time to start a new venture my guys, and it feels like it’ll be completely new as compared to what y’all have done already. Mixing it up seems like trying to do things you’ve never done before.

It’s like a finance guy going for a marketing thing.

It can be learning a new language, or something artistic, or creative. I can see some paintings, some canvas.

It can also be as easy as changing what you paint with? I dont know my sister is an artist and she does crazy things man. But like, yeah maybe its trying digital art, or going back to paper after doing digital art for so long?

It can also be trying a new thing in the same domain itself if it makes sense, like the painting example you know~

Just find yourself a guiding light. Since you’re trying out something new, it doesn’t mean that you should do it with no help. Find the help, get your tutorials, get those courses whatever it is which can help your journey.

Don’t follow reason, follow your light, follow your guide and watch how quickly you are able to progress, how quickly things move forward. The zeal you’ll get once you get the ropes of what to do next, and soon you’ll be able to be your own guiding light.

You’ll see yourself as the amateur and the expert all in one. You’ll have all the knowledge and still you’ll get to learn more things and feel like a student. It’ll be an amazing energy (i meant to write journey but i guess spirit has taken a wheel on my writing today, this also i wrote as wiring, what is wrong with me).

Okay, this might happen especially in the case if you’re trying new things in your own domain, because you know, you already know every nook and cranny of your domain, and when you’re doing a new thing you’re like! Oh! Oh wow I didn’t know about this how glad am I to find this thing out!!

Be like a sponge, absorb, every single thing. You’ll be surprised to learn so many things and from such unexpected places.

I wish you well pile 3~

That’s all I have for you today! Thank you so much for reading🎀🌻Please let me know what resonated I love hearing from y'all<3

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[dancingaliensfics]

Remmick NSFW Alphabet

This is pretty self explanatory. I haven't really formatted this or proof read it, I'll do that tomorrow. Right now I'm tired and need to sleep lol but I wanna get this posted since it just came to me. Wrote this in my notes app bc I couldn't be bothered opening docs, thats how quick this came to me lol so theres not even spell check really.

I do personally prefer sub remmick but I've tried to have a mix in here of both because I think it's more realistic to him as a character. I might add some more stuff it tomorrow idk.

Warnings: nsfw content, mentions of drinking blood, one section with gore mention that you can skip, idk i can't remember tbh

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He doesn't like to clean you up after sex. Not because he doesn't care but because he likes how you look all dirty and messy. So cleanup is out of the question unless you're willing to wait 30 minutes for him to have his fill, by which point he's usually ready to again lol. He does like to cuddle though, he's quite a physical guy and keeping contact with you is important to him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He really likes your hands. I've made a post already about how he likes to have your fingers in his mouth and i stand by that. So i wont say too much about it again here.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's nasty guys. He like to cum on you. His favourite place is probably your stomach but he doesn't really care where as long as he can see it dripping down you. He cums a lot and because he's a vampire he can go again pretty quickly, probably after like 10 minutes, so by the end of the night you're covered. He also likes to spread it around with his fingers cause he's a weirdo.

He will absolutely eat his own cum. When he cums in your mouth make sure to kiss him afterwards because he loves it, it gets him hard so quick. Or you can just scoop it up with your fingers and push it into his mouth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ok I have two things for this. The first one isn't particularly scandalous but it is something I think he'd be embarrassed by. When he's alone and feeling himself he imagines you and him back in his home town from when he was alive, living a quiet life in his childhood home. He loves to imagine you in the dresses the pretty girls used to wear when he was young. Honestly he creates pretty vivid scenarios, bringing you flowers back after a day working on the farm, putting your children to bed after dinner, undressing you slowly, pressing soft kisses to your shoulders. Climbing into bed together and just making gentle love before falling asleep in each other's arms. He keeps this a secret because it goes against his whole philosophy that vampirism is a gift. You two can't have children, atleast not in that way, and he'll never be back in that little house on the farm.

Now for the actually dirty one. I'm not really sure how to explain this but I'm gonna try my best. Basically he likes being told to use parts of you. Like for example, being told he can only use your thighs or your hand to get off. There's something so degrading about it that just really gets him going. It's another one that he wouldn't be able to verbalise, but having to make himself cum while only being able to rut against the sole of your foot or the space between your thighs is humiliating in a hot way. He doesn't have specific body part fetishes, he's not into feet or anything specifically, it's just being told he can only touch that part of you i guess.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Very but also not. He's had a lot of sex and he's very good at it, but he doesn't have much experience being vulnerable and having that Intimacy he would have with you if you're in an actual relationship. Remmick is also not very experienced with being cared for by someone and wanted in a way that goes beyond the physical. So yes, he can give you the best night you've ever had, but hold his hand and promise to stay with him forever and he's a bit stumped.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes to look at your face so you'll often find yourself in some variation of missionary. Tbh I don't know all the fancy names and neither does remmick, he just wants to look at your eyes. He's quite fond of prone bone though and anything that let's him look up at you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He definitely goes back and forth. I think simply through his nature or being a vampire, sex isn't always serious for him. He's very old and doesn't view sex in the same special way mortals might, especially in the 30s. But that doesn't mean it isn't special when he's with you. He always values your Intimacy together and often will be quite serious, especially if he's in a more melancholic mood. But he's a Goofy guy, he doesn't take things very seriously and he makes jokes in inappropriate situations that don't usually land. Obviously a lot of his silly guy persona was fake, but i think it's also clear from other interactions where he's trying to really connect with people that remmick is quite an odd guy and that does bleed through into sex. Sometimes he just does weird or random stuff. So yeah I think sex with remmick is a real mixed bag when it comes to seriousness.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is not groomed at all. He is quite hairy and doesn't see a problem with that. He does trim every so often, but being from a time where shaving body hair just wasn't a thing, he doesn't often think about it. He has a lovely happy trail that leads right from his navel all the way down. He has thick dark curls down there that run wild. If it really bothered you, you could ask him to groom more but I don't think he would. He likes a hairy bush and doesn't get the modern fascination with hairless pussies and balls so he has no interest in it on himself. I just really isn't something he thinks about.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sex with remmick is always very intimate. Even when it isn't serious, the Intimacy is always there. There's a few reasons for this really. The first is that sex with remmick using involves one of you bleeding, and the exchange of blood is something he sees as very meaningful. It's not only his food source, the thing he survives on, but he also still has many old world believes about humours and the transfer of energy through blood. The second reason is that sex is one of the few times remmick will be vulnerable. You can really break down those walls and see another side of him, especially if you've been at it for a while. And the last is that if you're also a vampire, you and remmick have a mental link that connects all of your feelings, sensations and thoughts. There's really nothing more intimate than that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does it a lot lol. Being in a relationship does nothing to slow him down. Whether you're away from each other, in another room or sat right in front of him, it doesn't matter, he loves to feel himself up. He actually is quite a voyeur and loves to Jack off while you watch, especially if you give him instructions on how to do it. He also loves to have your smell around him while feeling himself, whether it's by just straight up sniffing you or from something of yours he has with him. He always takes something of yours with him when he goes on trips away, usually underwear or a scarf since those have the strongest scent but he'll even take a handkerchief if you offer it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Honestly, it's probably easier to list things he isn't into. But I'm gonna touch on one isn't haven't really seen or talked about before. Remmick is a masochist. He's also a sadist but there's plenty of fics about that. He loves being hurt. Honestly sometimes he goes too far with it, and he really needs a partner who cares about him enough to draw that line. He talks a big game but he has a lot of self hatred he refuses to acknowledge and pain is a good way for him to ignore that. So its good to put him in a control environment where you can make sure he doesn't go too far. Slap him, choke him, bite him, scratch him. He loves it all.

He also likes to be treated like a dog. I've mentioned this a few times on my blog now haha so hopefully I don't become that girl, but he is really into that. Make him crawl on his hands and knees, tell him to pick your hands, let him hump your leg, he loves it. He likes to lick your face a lot which can be a bit icky but indulge him. He like to be punished and rewarded, it's a good way to keep him in check. And he likes this dynamic outside of the bedroom as well. Send out on errands and call him a good boy when he does well. Give him head pats when hes good and smack him when he's bad. Ah I can't get carried away here.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere and everywhere. I've already talked about this but he will fuck you on the side of the road or in the middle of a bar he doesn't give a shit. He likes for people to watch and he likes to be dirty. But there is something special to him about a private bed, it's somewhat nostalgic and makes his old man brain feel good or something I guess.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Again, anything and everything. This man is so horny, he is ready to go 24/7. But simple things like the wind blowing through your hair, watching you walk barefoot through a field or the smell of you as you walk past, are often the ones that do it the most him. Oh and watching you perform, if you're some kind of artist. That really drives him wild.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I don't thing he likes the thought of really degrading someone he's actually in love with much. Don't get me wrong, he can be a mean dom when he wants, but I don't think he would ever do something that would actually make you feel bad. His whole world revolves around his partner, they're his god in a weird, possessive way, and he wouldn't do something like brand you or insult your physical appearance. He would also never make you feel bad about your personality. While he might call you a slut or pathetic, things like insulting you for being needy he just wouldn't do. I think he also would be interested in others degrading you. So while he enjoys bringing others into your sex life, it's purely for them to service you. He'll never tolerate someone insulting you in anyway.

He also won't let any of the fresh vampires near you because he doesn't think it's a good idea. Even if you're also a vampire, they can be too rowdy and he doesn't like it so yeah there's a waiting time for anyone freshly turned.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

HES A MUNCH.

Cmon we all know that. This man loves eating pussy, day and night. If it was possible he would never stop. He loves the taste, the smell, the feeling of your legs squeezing his head. He just can't get enough. He eats like man starving, and he laps that shit up like a dog. He also moans so loud while eating you out. He honestly doesn't like 69 very much because he wants to focus on the task at hand lmao.

I also have to say, he loves sucking dick. He find it so relaxing, he could honestly fall asleep with a dick in his mouth. He loves to struggle on a big cock and he loves to take a small one fully into his mouth. The one thing I'm sad about is that I don't have a dick for this man to suck because it really is one of his favourite things.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Ah it really depends. His mood changes quite quickly and that influences how he fucks. A session can start out one way and change up half way through. There's not much consistency with Remmick.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Remmick loves a quickie. He'll ask for them all the time, at every opportunity. God forbid you have to be somewhere on time because he will stop you at some point to ask for a quick fuck. Most of the time he asks for a quickie though, it isn't so he can fuck you, it's so he can get a taste of your pussy.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes yes yes. He will give almost anything a try atleast once, although most things he's already done. He's also a massive voyeur as I said before so he doesn't care about getting caught. I mean he shares a hive mind so it doesn't really matter to him anyway.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a vampire so his Stamina is very good but not impossibly so. He can if he wants to last a long time each round but remmick is not a patient man so he usually doesn't. You can tell him to hold out though and then he's happy to. But to him it doesn't matter because whether he's cum or not, your fussy is getting eaten. He can go for quite a lot of rounds honestly, probably 4 or 5 most days but stretching up to 7 if he pushes it. But he still needs time between and he doesn't like to over do things so most days it's gonna be more like 2 to 3.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

What toys did they have in the 1930s? I'm not sure i need to do some reading on that. But I think remmick quite likes involving toys both on himself and you, whatever they are. He especially likes bondage on you both although he keeps breaking all the pretty rope you get.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This man is the king of teasing. Good luck if he gets in one of these moods because there is no escape. It will start at dusk as soon you're up, with light touches and coy looks and continue right up until dawn when he finally let's you cum after hours of fucking you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Remmick is so loud jesus. If you have neighbours, they hate you. And if you're trying to stray hidden you'll have to gag him. Even then you can still hear his panting and muffled moans. He also talks none stop during sex, I mean really runs him mouth. The man does not know how to shut up.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Big gore warning here, i personally feel a bit sick reading stuff like this even though I wrote it so just warning you guys first.

He wants you to bite him. Ok yeah that's obvious. But not just a few times, he wants you to cover him all over in deep, bloody bites. He wants it to hurt. He wants people to look at him and think he's been attacked by some wild animal. Honestly he wants you to eat him. To tear chunks off and swallow them. To crack his bones and tear parts off him. Break open his ribs and pull out his heart and rip pieces out with your teeth. He finds the idea of being consumed deeply erotic and also very intimate. It makes him feel very safe, knowing pieces of him are inside of you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Nice and thick. Probably a solid 6 to 6.5 inches with a good girth. He stretches you out just right. Uncut and a red tip. Heavy balls that hang low.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

All day everyday, ask and you shall receive. He really is hungry as a dog lol.

You know he's ready for it when he starts drooling. The drool really isn't something he can control, it just happens when his body decides its time to eat which often gets mixed up with being horny. So yeah, it's pretty common for you to look over and see him covered in drool, mouth open and shameless.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall  asleep)

Depends. Some days he's straight to sleep while others he gets kinda sad and wistful after sex and stays awake watching you. He also gets kinda stressed you're gonna disappear or leave if he closes his eyes sometimes so you might occasionally find him staring at you for a long time. But your presence is very comforting for him and he always sleeps better with you.

[therainscene]

Gonna be a bit of a buzzkill here, but: I think what annoys me about Ted's been casually assuming that Mike was dating Will this whole time theories is that they always tend to treat it as a fun outcome.

Like, I get it: Ted's the useless one-dimensional suburban dad who makes bland observations he thinks are insightful quips, and he hasn't had much of a character arc beyond getting dragged along for the ride his more three-dimensional wife is on -- so what is there for him to do, really, other than to delight us with one final, genuinely insightful joke that subverts our expectations but makes perfect sense in hindsight?

But I feel like this would essentially make him one of those "allies" whose egos are more important to them than actually being supportive, and so they make smug jokes about how accepting they are at the expense of their kids' fear of rejection:

"I hate my gay son! Oh, not because he's gay, he's just an asshole." 🤭 "Why are you telling me you're gay? I figured that out years ago. Stop crying and go help your mother with the dishes." 🙄 etc.

It wouldn't be out of character for Ted to do this. I can totally see him doing it! But it's out of character for the show to make light of queer struggles, so I'd expect it to be critical of Ted for doing this.

Often, parents like the ones described above really do mean well, but they just don't know what they're supposed to do other than try to keep treating their kid the same as if they were straight. Lots of parents struggle with that; I'd argue even Joyce does in S3:

Will's clearly experiencing a specifically queer difficulty here -- boys like him aren't allowed to fall in love and he's upset about having to watch straight people openly enjoy things he thinks he'll never have -- and that apparently sails over Joyce's head. She just smiles at her Silly Immature Boy Who Doesn't Get The Appeal Of Sex Yet and drops the topic.

[Edit: To be clear, Joyce knows he's gay and is explicitly showing support for gay love here. She just has a blind spot when it comes to the gay teen experience.]

It's a disappointing change in her approach from the first two seasons, in which she fought her ass off to understand and advocate for his needs, even when communication seemed nigh impossible.

But then, maybe S3 is about granting Will his S2 wish to not be coddled by his mom anymore.

The Jonwill heart-to-heart at the end of S4 is my favourite scene in the whole show, because it's a pitch-perfect demonstration of how to balance closeted queer kids' need for support against their need to handle things on their own terms, all without embarrassing them by showing your hand of Already Knowing.

Maybe you're thinking: didn't Karen do exactly this with Mike all the way back in S1?

[Literally hiding his future beard in his closet during this convo lol 10/10 queer-coding]

Well, no. The point I made in my previous Wheeler analysis still applies: Karen, as of S1, is too prone to trusting dangerous authorities over her own kids -- and so her words ring hollow. She means well, but deep down she's prioritizing her need to feel like a good mother over putting any real effort into figuring out what Mike needs: reassurance that he and his flock of outcast friends will be safe if he's open with her.

The key thing Jonathan gets right is to understand his brother well enough to directly address the underlying fear that's been preventing Will from opening up:

So if Ted's sole contribution to Mike's queer arc ends up being a reveal that he's always known and been too cool to blab to anyone, but also that he did nothing about it other than to smugly wait for Mike to come out...?

...I just think that would feel more tragic than funny.

[systemic-chaos]

I actually have a pretty funny story related to this!

So I was doing a one on one debate in a high school class, and the goal was to defend our positions on a certain history topic before a jury of our peers. I can't recall the exact class or why we were doing it, but it was some sort of important end of semester assignment. Unfortunately, the topic was internment/concentration camps. Specifically, the Japanese internment camps that happened in the US during World War Two. Lots of people were willing to argue they were bad, and rightfully so! Internment camps are very bad!

But someone had to be on the side that internment camps were good.

And I, being an intellectually understimulated teenager with nothing I could physically do but sit in bed, decided to be the one to argue on the side of internment camps. That it was good to have human concentration camps. Just to see if I could.

I have no clue if I put any time or effort into researching my argument, but knowing me at the time I probably wrote it in one night, if I bothered to write it at all. But by God, when I approached the stand I argued with gusto. I have a naturally loud voice that projects very easily, and whatever I said probably sounded confident. I also am good at connecting whatever facts seem good into my argument, and I'm sure that came in really handy.

Sadly, whomever else I was arguing with, did not sound confident. Their arguments were objectively correct, but I think they got stage fright about being in front of the class. Still, when we left the classroom, I really expected for the jury to call me wrong and I was thoroughly prepared to hear exactly why my argument sucked.

But when we got called back, the class had ruled on my side. They agreed with my argument to why internment camps were a necessary evil, and I had won the argument. I remember just standing there with my jaw open and going "what???? why?????"

So yeah, having enough hot air and confidence can shore up any kind of argument, and is a really great skill to cultivate. And now that I think about it, maybe that same kind of logic is why politicians with dumb ass arguments keep getting elected...

The biggest misconception in public schools is that literary analysis is about proving you can be right or wrong about a book you read

Literary analysis isn’t about the book

It’s not even about being right

It’s about performing an investigation and presenting your case to the jury

It doesn’t matter if your defendant killed that guy or not. If you can convince the jury he didn’t, you’ve won

And the incredible life skill of spinning bulletproof bullshit out your ass with a handful of facts and a prayer is soooooooo much more valuable than anyone’s ever gonna tell you

[torglives]

this is in no way an official (tm) analysis post, but a ramble of my thoughts… i saw someone awhile ago say that the corruption can be a metaphor for some sort of dissociative disorder as a trauma response and i really. am just trapped in that house right now.

like pangi is the most recent and most peculiar case because he didn’t go through any full reset. and yet he experienced all of the symptoms. he did not “start over,” or go onto a second life, or become a new person, but his symptoms happened to him as he was, with all of his personal lived experiences. does what i’m trying to say make sense? and his memory loss wasn’t gradual, either. that’s something really interesting that we don’t really talk about. he more or less knew when he was going to lose his memories, but it was completely sudden. after the death of pedro, if we want to get really specific with it. it was a sudden blockage in his brain, and the memories were almost……. compartmentalized.???

they were not eaten completely, because he gained them back the other day, but just kind of… blocked from his consciousness.

the personality changes. the heightened aggression, the extreme paranoia, “regressing” to who he was “before.” does anyone understand me. acting out, unsure sense of self — in a personal case: not wanting to seem weak or vulnerable. the lingering effects of this on post-corruption pangi, who’s every version of himself he’s ever been. who’s been hit with all of these memories at once.

he had nightmares about the corruption. when he was balancing his options, cure or no cure, he was having actual, violent nightmares. he told aimsey he was scared, and it’s clear that he wasn’t only scared of the corruption but also the cure!!!!!!

one of his main hold-ups about being cured was regaining his previous memories too. can we talk about that also. the corruption was protecting him from his painful, heavy, memories. and he was scared of getting those bad ones back, even if they came with the good ones. he wasn’t sure if he wanted those memories, but knew that the people he cared about wanted him to have them. which is fair to them, because pre-corruption pangi did think that the bad and good memories were in equal parts important.

to go on a tangent: im sure everyone here already knows all of this. but i saw a lot of people be really strange about his behaviour after he was cured and it confused me, because he obviously can’t immediately go back to who he was before. not theories, but just like… frustration that he wasn’t what they wanted him to be. tr/ls pangi didn’t up and dissapear, it’s him who regained all of those memories at once. i’ve seen a couple of people say that he was a dick to lukey for heading off and speaking with pili soon after, but genuinely like. is pili not the only person who gave him a genuine option. despite having his own motives, he did not let them entirely dictate his conversations with pangi. he didn’t approach him with a “it’s what you would’ve wanted,” and i don’t think it’s crazy at all for him to really appreciate that kindness. pangi gets hit with all of these memories at once, and everyone is like "yay, you’re back to normal now!", but "normal" is months of traumatic memories that you were scared to get back. is it not okay to have a complicated relationship with that? or what?

[wisteria-lodge]

Do you think Draco knows about what the dark mark does? Since it’s implied that he was given it yet He, Crabbe and Goyle never considered using it to summon Voldemort in Deathly Hallows and Draco nor Lucius considered using it to find each other.

Plus we know Lucius kept the darker aspects of the Death Eaters away from Draco. So it wouldn’t surprise me if he ever downplayed the mark by pretending that it was just a weird tattoo.

This is an interesting question about what the Dark Mark actually is, what is does, how you get one, and why.

So the films go in a more tattoo direction (for clarity and aesthetics) while the books do more of a brand / scarification thing. Dark Marks are described as "ugly" and "red," and only "burn black" when they're actually being used. There's also this through-line of Marks "getting clearer" all through Book 4, which could apply to a tattoo, but seems more in line with a scar. An old scar that's faded suddenly looking fresh again? Very creepy. Also, dark magic is often associated with scars (Harry's lightning bolt and "I must not tell lies" scars, George's Sectumsempra scar.) So a more scar-like Dark Mark fits with that. Because of this, I would imagine that the process of getting a Mark is definitely violent, probably painful. Also knowing Voldemort, I'm sure it comes with some sort of ceremony where you have to swear undying loyalty and kiss the hem of his robes or whatever.

In the books, we don't know if Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, or even Draco Malfoy have Dark Marks at all. One of the big theories after Book 6 was that the "something on his arm" Draco uses to scare Borgin was a werewolf bite, and you'll still sometimes run into Werewolf!Draco truthers. But the movies do give him a Dark Mark, so let's just run with that.

Dark Marks are this two-way magical leash that allows Voldemort to summon you, and allows you to summon Voldemort. Hermione's coins, which are modeled after the Dark Mark, work like this too - her master coin communicates with all the secondary coins, but the secondary coins can't communicate with each other. Voldemort likes it this way: he's the center, and all his Death Eaters are spokes of the wheel. He likes it when they're at each other's throats (that way they can't unite against him...) and will purposefully build dynamics that pit Wormtail against Barty, Barty against the group, the group against Bellatrix, Bellatrix against Lucius... etc.

Voldemort also likes to frame Dark Mark as this great reward he's giving his Death Eaters, when really it's a control mechanism (same thing with Wormtail's silver hand). He'll always be able to locate his Death Eaters... and always be able to hurt them from a distance. Barty's Mark is probably how Voldemort was able to sniff him out while he's invisible in his father's basement, and it's also the reason running is not an option for either Lucius or Draco. Karkaroff tries to run, and we don't know what happened to him exactly... but we also never hear about him after Book 4.

If he gave out too many Dark Marks, they wouldn't work as an "inner circle" type reward anymore, so this might be why Voldemort doesn't have that many Death Eaters. Like, at any given time, it's between 20 and 30. He doesn't give a Mark to the Snatchers, he doesn't give a Mark to Greyback. So then what is his criteria?

I think Voldemort only gives out Marks to people who are valuable/dangerous/smart enough to potentially cause problems for him. He can control Greyback just fine by dangling that final piece of acceptance just out of reach forever... but even if Greyback went rouge, so what? He doesn't know anything, he doesn't have any power or social capital. Lucius Malfoy though... if he defected, now Voldemort has a problem.

Draco would have gotten his Mark pretty much the second he turned sixteen, and I think that's not Voldemort's usual MO. Draco is an important piece in a game Voldemort is playing to punish and control Lucius, and that's the only reason he's valuable. It surprises literally every other character in the book when he actually manages to overpower Dumbledore.

So, to answer your questions up top - yes, I think Draco knew exactly what the Mark did, because he would have gotten it in a weird scary ceremony designed to freak out his parents. I'm sure if Lucius and Draco could have used their Marks to locate each other they would have, but that doesn't seem to be how Dark Marks work. And Crabbe and Goyle can't call Voldemort because... I just don't think they have Marks. They're not important enough for Voldemort to care about controlling them, and his plan is probably to string them along the way he does Greyback, requiring them to "earn" their place at his side. Draco probably could have called Voldemort to him in the Room of Requirement... but he was never going to, because at that point he doesn't want Voldemort to win, and is passively resisting pretty hard. But you're right - Crabbe and Goyle absolutely should have realized that Draco was avoiding using his Mark to call Voldemort, and this is very suspicious behavior.

[caricarnations]

I love to think that the Phantomhive servants became more protective and appreciative of Ciel after the greenwitch arc. Not that they weren't already, book of murder shows that, but at first, maybe they mostly saw Ciel as their slightly bratty, yet beloved master. Then Ciel brings them to one of his missions, which is rare. Maybe they assumed that as long as Sebastian is with him on his missions then he'll be fine!

Then they saw him nearly DIE. They saw him at his most vulnerable state, a scared, fragile boy. Bard even compared Ciel's state to the soldiers in the battlefield, so it must have dawned to them that even though Ciel is their master, he is still a 13 year old boy under a lot of pressure. For a time, they held really well on their own. A lot of it is thanks to Sebastian, but I also got the sense that without their master, they were a little lost.

Fortunately, their little master pulled through, apologizing to them even though he doesn't have to, leading them on the mission even when his wounds haven't fully healed. When Ciel came back, they seemed motivated than ever to serve him again. The fact that they all got to work together must have strengthened Ciel's bond with them. I'm sure they grew to respect him even more. Ciel isn't just some kid master to them, he is their resilient little master who actually takes his job seriously, and most of all, someone worthy of their protection and respect.

The greenwitch arc was just so important to me because this is where we saw Ciel working WITH his servants. Usually he just relays his orders via Sebastian so it's nice to see him leading them for once. I think this arc was necessary to solidify the servants' resolve to side with him even after the twin reveal.

[hetrosjistin]

Okay but, this is one of the reasons I really like chronicling systems that give you timeline creation functions like world anvil.

So the timeline is divided into Mortal and Divine Eras, specifically broken down by the oldest elven kingdom's calendar between when priests or mages held power in their government. That's our Year 0.

Me and my partner (who can pipe in if they want on this!) came up with a 11,000 year history. It runs from -6000 to 5122. The LONGEST Each of those colors on the side? That's an entire age as remembered by the -current- governments by and large. The longest age? The third one from the top? Age of Grains is what it's called, literally just... figuring out large scale agriculture.

The fun thing about using these? You can actually just, lay out how long certain important characters live. One of the characters in our setting?

600 year old elven grandpa.

He MET what is effectively Orc Jesus when Orc Jesus was still just a podunk adventurer in our setting. I only realized this was POSSIBLE when I worked out how old Elf Grandpa was in the story we were writing, and then laid down what year he must have been born in, and then lined it up with the major historical events, and BAM, cool story moment made for writing.

HAVE ancient characters. Have characters that are centuries or millenia old, but DRILL into that!

Lay out your major characters birthdates on your timeline, draw through all the things they have lived through. Which ones have they sat down with? What have they fucking SEEN and DONE and been PART OF! What does a civilization with such LONG LIVED people in it LOOK LIKE? How do they DEAL with the inevitable need to hand off things? How long do they put things off?

Elves in the setting I've been talking about? You're not considered really 'getting to be an adult' by them until you're about 60, and the idea of having kids before you're 100? WOW. WOOOOOW MOVING WAY TOO FAST THERE! Even having a family before you turn 200 is seen as a bit early by Elves in this world. Elves don't have children often and often will entirely raise one child before having another. A lot of elves might not have kids until they're 3 or 400 years old at all. Retirement age is about 600 and then you're expected to go off and settle down and explore whatever you want too, to leave the matters of running the world to the next generations, give advice, don't get involved unless you have too.

Longevity is such a fun thing to play with in any setting.

Play with it.

Have fun with it.

Drill into the ideas of longevity and how it'd impact things, and what cool things your characters could have taken part in, how society would look! Have fun!

pro-tip: don't ever use the sentence "thousands of years" in your worldbuilding unless you really know what a thousand years is like

[blainesebastian]

home is a person

word count: 11,493 ship: Nick Leister x reader rating: NC-17 (for smut, suggestive sexual language, and expletives) summary: London has a house you live in. All of those memories in New York patchworked into a home. London could never feel like that. notes: a while ago, an anon asked me if i took requests. i don't, but ironically, i got inspo from their ask, which was for jealous!nick. so hope you enjoy those moments in here! 🥰 notes2: masterlist is here, gifs are from here!

In all honesty, your move from New York to London hadn’t been pleasant. 

This was the last thing you wanted, but when your mom needed a fresh start after the drama with your father? You couldn’t exactly blame her. You just…didn’t expect her to look for job offers in another state, let alone another country. It wasn’t easy, packing up your entire life, moving to a brand new city, a new house, trying to figure out where everything fit—including yourself. You’ve always believed that things happened for a reason but this? You weren’t too sure. 

Then you met Nick. 

It’s not like you’re trying to center your entire existence around a guy, or anything, but…sometimes he feels like he’s at the center of what makes you feel good. Like he’s become the pinnacle of your orbit, that your friendship with him has really yanked you out of feeling the worst type of way about moving here. You met Lion, Jenna and Nick through Giles, your mother working with his father, one social event slipping into another. At the charity gala you were introduced, you remember being drawn to him, the long lines of his suit fitting him perfectly, the gentle golden hue to some of his curls, the fullness of his mouth, how it seemed to twitch into a smile when he met you. 

You also remember the blonde scowling nearby, practically plastered to his side all night. 

“Events like this are always such a bore,” Anna sighs through her nose, leaning back in her chair. “I mean, can’t we just donate money and move on without all the speeches?” 

You could understand that perspective, maybe. There were a lot of speeches tonight geared towards raising money. But…isn’t that the whole point? To listen to the different voices on why it was so important to do something before it was too late? That’s why there’s a bunch of informational tables as well, all dedicated to something different to help preserve and protect wildlife and oceans. It never bothered you to come to events like this because at least it felt like you were doing something with your money that helped…but you’re also reminded of people like Anna—brash impatience. 

“I mean,” She picks up her wine glass, taking a sip, “Not that our money here will do a lot of good anyways,” She crinkles her nose, “Remind me to choose another charity next time.” She laughs softly with her friend next to her, Nick on the other side with a look of thinning patience. 

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, standing from the table. Anna’s eyes dart to you, setting her glass down. 

“Oh, hope I didn’t offend you.” She says, but her eyes are a glint of something…territorial. Like she wants you to leave the table. She doesn’t look one iota apologetic. 

You give her a tight smile, “No, not at all. Your dress actually reminded me that I wanted to check out the table on the efforts of plastic removal.” You motion to the right and walk off in that direction, though, not before you hear Giles’s snort of amusement and Anna’s scoff of disbelief. 

You linger at the coat check, waiting while someone retrieves your jacket, chewing on your lower lip. You already made a few donations with your mom’s approval at several conservation foundations, so, there’s really no need to return to your table. You’re not sure you’d be able to keep your mouth shut anyways and…you don’t want to start an argument with a so-called ‘prominent’ daughter of the social circles both you and your mother are now traveling in. 

“Headed out?” 

Turning, Nick approaches the other side of the coat check, handing his ticket to someone as well. You chew on your lower lip, nodding, because…that should seem fairly obvious. You expect the conversation to die there, but it doesn’t. He sticks his hands in his pants pockets, rolling back on his heels, 

“Did you know that half the oxygen we breathe comes from ocean plankton?” 

You blink—out of anything you expected to come out of his mouth, it wasn’t that. “What?” 

He smiles a little bit, amused, like throwing you off kilter was exactly what he intended. He motions that the coat attendant has come back with your jacket and you have to tear your gaze off him to take it. 

“Just seems like this event is a big deal to you, so, thought you might know that.” 

You scoff, unsure if he’s here throwing a factoid in your face because you insulted Anna back at the table. You slide your sleeves through your jacket as he gets his, “Yes, I care about ocean conservation, okay? I want to maybe do something with marine biology one day,” You have no idea why you’re telling him that, “So sorry if your girlfriend’s flippant comment got under my skin.” 

You begin to walk towards the exit, but since you didn’t drive a car here, you’re left lingering on the top step and he slides up beside you. He’s pulling a ticket from his pocket for the valet and you’re fishing out your phone to call for a ride. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” He says, turning a bit to look at you. He then takes a backwards step, landing on the stair below the one you’re on. You’re almost eyelevel like this. Almost. Your gaze skitters over him—he’s handsome. Far too handsome. “Can’t date someone who doesn’t care about plastic, or plankton, for that matter.” 

A twitch of your lips at that. Okay so…maybe you judged this, him, all wrong. You got the inkling that Nick might be as uptight and shallow as Anna if he was with her, but now it seems like…he’s not even giving the impression that they’re friends. They’re just in the same space sometimes, that she’s in his space when she can be. 

“Those are some pretty decent requirements.” 

Nick hums softly, motioning over his shoulder. “Did you drive here?” 

You shake your head, lifting your phone a little, “Ordering a car.” 

“I can take you,” He offers, holding his hand out to help you down the carpeted steps in your heels, “Or…we could go for a drink.” At your hesitation, he takes another step down, “I know plenty of other plankton and ocean facts, if you’re curious.” 

A real smile now spreads across your lips before reaching for his hand, “Well how can I deny myself that?” 

—

London has a house you live in. 

When you thought about home, New York always sprung to mind. Not just the city and all the places that you loved visiting, but your loft-like bedroom, the twinkle lights above your windows, succulent plants on the sill, your cat curled up on one of your pillows. You thought of the smell of homemade meatballs that your mom would make, clinging to the space long after they were eaten. Of laughter that stuck to the walls when playing a board game or watching a movie, tears over your first boyfriend, arguments with your father before he left. 

All of those memories patchworked into a home. London could never feel like that. 

—

A few months turn into a handful of years and the seamlessness in which you do things with Nick, Lion and Jenna is something that settles into place in a way you never planned on. Back home in New York, you had maybe one best friend that you did everything with. And what could you claim of that ‘best’ friend now? The relationship completely disintegrated upon moving. But with Nick, Lion and Jenna, it feels like…somehow, you’ve always been an addition to the trio. You’re grateful for that, to find your people that you don’t want to be without. It’s unexpected in the best way. 

Something else you never expected? Jenna’s stamina when it comes to dancing. 

A soft laugh leaves your lips as she does a twirl on the dance floor, her arms coming up over her head. Lion and Nick are nearby, drinking more than dancing, but it’s still fun. The club is a little packed for your taste but the music is good and so are the drinks that are flowing. You lean in close to Jenna, tossing your arms around her shoulders, 

“I’m gonna grab some water!” You’ll get her some too, turning to go towards the bar. 

You push through a small wave of people, reaching a semi-filled space, not as hectic as the dance floor. Letting out a slow breath, you push a few strands of hair out of your face that’s threatening to stick to your neck where you’re slightly flushed from dancing. Leaning against the bar, you wait to get the bartender to notice you. 

When someone slides up beside you, you don’t think much of it. There’s not much room as it is, so you know there’s a lot of accidental encroaching in space, but then you realize he’s not looking to get the bartender’s attention—he’s looking right down at you. He leans far too close to talk into your ear, 

“You’re beautiful, let me buy you a drink.” 

You’ve learned a long time ago that there’s no requirement for you to be nice when someone makes you uncomfortable. You take a step back and shake your head, “No thanks.” 

He doesn’t take the hint, of course, trying again. You’re not sure why guys think they need to push at the word ‘no’. “Come on, what’s one drink going to hurt?” 

Fuck, he’s not going to leave you alone. You’re going to have to leave the bar and come back for the water. Before you can turn around, you sense Nick before you see him. At this point, you know the weight and warmth of his body, how his hands feel on your back or where your hip meets your waist, the scent of his cologne mixed with something that’s purely him. There’s a safeness there, a comfort, a knowing, and you find yourself leaning a bit into it as he touches his chest to your back. 

“Fuck off to the other side of the bar.” Nick says to the hoverer over the music, gently clasping your elbow and encouraging you under his arm, his body creating a bit of a cage to block the guy out. 

The guy eventually disappears, but Nick’s stance doesn’t change. And you…don’t mind that. You turn just a little under his arm, a small smile tugging the corners of your mouth, 

“I was just on my way back to you guys.” 

“Didn’t like how long you were gone.” He replies when he leans down to talk to you. It’s a completely different sensation having him do it, his lips brushing your ear. A shiver courses down your spine, despite how warm your body feels against his own. 

“Oh you were worried?” You tease, raising your eyebrows. 

“Jenna was worried.” He insists but there’s a twitch of a smile to Nick’s lips, his gaze flicking to yours and then to the bartender that asks what you want to order. 

When you bring the water back to your friend, handing it off to her, she’s dancing with Lion. When you take a step back, sipping from your straw, you end up leaning against Nick’s side again. 

Neither of you seem to be bothered by it. 

—

You thought it was going to rain today, but it seems to be holding out alright. Tipping your head back to look at the sky, you sit down on the edge of Nick’s pool and dip your legs in. Jenna and Lion are in the deep end, treading while sipping on drinks and Nick pops up out of the water. He runs both hands through his hair but loose curls still sit on his forehead. He smiles at you, wandering over to stand near your knee. 

“Told you,” He motions towards the sky. 

You purse your lips, adjusting your sunglasses, “I dunno, some of those clouds still look suspicious.” 

He shakes his head but he’s smiling a little, “If it rains, we’ll be in by then. Got to take advantage of the sunny days here.” 

You chew on your lower lip, knowing he’s right but…this, admittedly, isn’t your favorite type of weather. Nor your favorite season. You live for snow and while Nick’s right, sometimes it can be rather gloomy in London, that doesn’t take away from wishing for snowflakes. 

He scoffs softly, his hand moving to touch your leg, his thumb tracing a circle along your ankle. “Thinking about snow, aren’t you?” When you raise your eyebrows, he smiles, “Got that look on your face, getting pretty good at reading you.” 

He is. Nick, however, shields his emotions fairly well. You’ve gotten to know him since you moved here, and you’d say you’re nearly close? But he’s still rather guarded with heavier feelings. Big emotions are obvious, but those minute ones that become visible between heartbeats, they’re harder for you to gauge. Which is how Nick likes it. You’re determined though, one of these days you’ll figure him out. One day you’ll be able to read him like a favorite book. 

“I just want to visit a cabin or something. Ski resort.” There’s hope in your voice, sounding a little wistful. 

“Can you even ski?” At the crinkle of your nose, Nick laughs. “Guess that wouldn’t be the point.” 

You huff, playfully splashing him with a bit of water, “No.” 

“Cabin in the woods sounds like a horror movie,” He volleys back, squeezing your ankle. 

“It is one,” You grin, “But again, not the point. You’d be traveling with a seasoned horror movie professional,” You touch your chest, “I’d keep us safe.” 

Nick shakes his head, turning to look at Jenna and Lion—maybe even to ask them if they’d be interested in something like that, but they’re too busy kissing to be paying attention to either of you. 

When he shifts his attention back, there’s a gentle eyeroll that makes your eyebrows pull together. He’s not…annoyed, exactly? But there’s something there that you can’t quite place. And you wonder if it’s because you’re seeing it for the first time, a microexpression that doesn’t usually slip free from the well-guarded emotions he keeps under lock and key. 

He looks up at you, licking his lips, “What?” 

You curl your hair around your ears, your mouth opening and…should you even say anything? Then, “Nothing, I just think it’s cute that you’re jealous.” 

Nick scoffs, “I don’t get jealous.” 

Now it’s your turn to make a noise, giving him a look of slight disbelief, “Seriously?” You expect him to buckle underneath the scrutiny but he doesn’t, just shrugs his one shoulder. “Never?” 

“No,” He smiles a little, floating on his back in the water. You pay special close attention to his face and not water gliding down the muscles of his chest, “It’s a useless emotion.”

You can’t help but laugh, “So is getting pissed off to the point that you punch someone, and yet…” You grin at him. 

Nick makes an O shape with his lips, letting out a sound to let you know that your comment has struck him. He swims closer, almost to your knees—and then grabs you. 

“Nick!” You screech, but it’s too late, he’s pulled your entire body into the pool. 

You pop back up to the surface, splashing him right in the face. Dick. But he’s laughing and honestly, so are you, shaking your head as you lean back against the pool wall. When Lion and Jenna float over, Nick brings up your cabin in the woods idea and while a plan starts to form of maybe actually doing a small trip, you can’t stop your head from spinning about what he said. About not getting jealous. 

Is he lying? But what would be the point of that? Has he never been with anyone that’s warranted the emotion? 

Or does he really not feel it?

—

You don’t know how you allow yourself to get dragged to these things (or, well, you do but—). You can’t help but wince when another punch is thrown in the ring, snapping the other guy’s head back. Fuck. These bare-knuckle fights are brutal and you’re…not sure which is worse; the fight itself or the cheering around you. You suppose you sort of get it? Treating it like a sport and all that, a spectator to absorb yourself in but…it’s just not your thing. 

The only reason you’re here is—

A short gasp leaves your lips as someone’s body hits the concrete, your own turning automatically towards the right and—Nick takes a step closer to you, his arm sliding around your waist. You mold into his side, practically shielding your face into his shoulder, his hand pressing calming circles into your hip. 

“You’re really going to do this?” You ask him, tipping your head up just a little to meet his eyes. 

That’s why you’re here. To support him because he’s got a fight next but…god, you can’t imagine how much worse that’s going to be? Seeing him get hurt. 

“I’m a much better fighter than either of these guys.” He replies but it’s…it’s not even like he’s trying to sound cocky, it’s just matter-of-fact. 

You run a hand over the side of your face, “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

He smiles a little, the end of the match in front of you announcing a victor. “You don’t have to stay, Jenna’s not a big fan of these either.” 

And while that sounds tempting? You’re already here and, “I want to support you.” 

Nick watches you for a few moments, nodding, his hand moving to tuck your hair around your ear before he moves to head with Lion towards the locker rooms. 

—

Well, staying and offering support is easier said than done. 

You stand on the sidelines with Jenna, one of your arms wrapped around your middle, your fingers pressing into your mouth as Nick warms up. Your gaze lingers over the toned muscles of his body, his trim waist, the delicate lines of his tattoos, the way his boxers peek out from his sweats…it only serves as a distraction for so long. The fight begins and he chances a glance at you for one moment before punches are being thrown. 

Fuck. 

You take a step back out of instinct, landing right on someone’s foot, and he clasps your arm so you don’t buckle. It’s a tall guy, handsome, brown eyes and dark skin, curls but cut close to his head. He gives you a light smile, letting go of your elbow once you’ve centered yourself. 

“Sorry.” You tell him, your gaze finding the fight again, though a bit reluctantly. It…appears? Nick is winning. At least you think so, it’s difficult for you to tell. The next jab hits him right in the ribs and you definitely have to tear your attention away from that one. 

The guy next to you shifts, “Boyfriend?” He asks. 

You blink, realizing he’s asking about Nick. “What? Oh—no. He’s a friend.” 

He hums, “Does your friend usually ask you to watch things that make you uncomfortable?” 

A soft laugh leaves your lips for a few reasons, sliding your attention to this guy for a moment. “Am I really that obvious?” He glances down at you, a soft smile to his own lips, “And also, no. Nick didn’t ask me to be here, I offered because I wanted to try and support him.” 

Try being the word here, you’re not doing too hot. 

You force yourself to look back at the ring and there seems to be pretty even ground, a shuffling between Nick and the other fighter, moving in circles as punches are thrown and landed. Your hand slips to the back of your neck, 

“Have you been here before?” You ask, trying to at least carry on a conversation now that one’s started. 

The guy nods, crossing his arms over his chest, “Yeah, I don’t put any money down, but I like watching the fights. I’ve been boxing for the past few years, so, observing other techniques sometimes sharpens your own.” 

“My friend Jenna,” You motion to her beside you and she turns her head at the sound of her name, giving a small wave, “Her boyfriend owns the gym.” 

He raises his eyebrows, “That’s awesome. I’m Coleson, everyone calls me Cole, though.” 

You smile a little, introducing yourself as well. When Nick uses the force of his body to get the other opponent on the floor, throwing heavy punches, you find yourself turning a little again. A twitch of a smile pulls Cole’s lips, 

“So if you’re not interested in boxing, what do you like?” 

And you’re not sure whether he’s trying to get to know you or distract you but, either way? You’re grateful for it. 

—

As you wait for Nick and Lion to come outside, you lean back against the familiar red McLaren, a small smile tugging the corners of your mouth when you change the unknown number in your phone to say ‘Cole’. Jenna gently nudges you with her elbow, a knowing look on her face. 

“What was going on between you and ‘tall, dark and handsome’?” 

You shrug, chewing on your lower lip, “Think he was just being nice. Practically smashed his foot on accident at the beginning of the fight.” 

“You gonna go out?” 

“Maybe,” A small smile again, a flutter of butterflies in your stomach. Even though you’re pretty sure Cole was just asking you questions to get your mind off what was happening in the ring, you liked talking to him? Maybe going on a date wouldn’t be so terrible? “Probably won’t even see him again after tonight.” 

Her eyes follow a line of sight over your shoulder and you don’t have to turn to know it’s Cole leaving the warehouse, but when you do? His eyes are on you, giving you a soft wave as he makes his way to a motorcycle. 

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” Jenna grins, which only makes heat kiss the back of your neck and your cheeks. But you’re smiling too. 

Turning your attention back towards the entrance, you see Nick and Lion come out, Nick in a pair of black jeans and zip-up hoodie. You grimace just slightly at the bruise forming on his cheek, your fingers itching to reach out and cup his jawline when he’s close enough. Instead, you offer him a soft nod. 

“Celebratory drinks at my place.” Lion grins, grabbing Jenna’s hand and giving her a playful twirl before tugging her towards his car. 

You came with Nick, so you linger, giving in and reaching for his wrist. You run your thumb over his knuckles, a wince pulling at your lips. “Congrats on your win.” 

For someone who came out on top? He seems a little off. Quiet, stoic. But maybe he’s just in pain. He’s got plenty of bruises and small cuts despite winning. You make a mental note to grab an ice pack for him when you get to Lion’s. 

Nick opens his mouth but then hesitates which…you find that’s something he doesn’t often do. He’s not one to hold words underneath his tongue and yet it takes him a moment to say, “I’m surprised you even noticed.” 

You blink, confusion clouding your face. Your eyes scan his face, the way his eyelashes sit on his cheeks as he looks down at your hand around his own, his thumb tracing your knuckles, the darkened gold to his curls because he’s taken a shower, the cupid bow of his lips. And then, a brief glance over your shoulder—where Jenna looked before. 

Where Cole is on his motorcycle. 

Nick confirms it a moment later with, “You seemed a bit preoccupied.” 

Your brain seems to do a double-take. You’re about to argue that you did the best you could while he was fighting—it’s definitely not a secret that being here had you feeling out of your element. But…there’s also something in his tone, in the way his eyes aren’t meeting yours, hyperfocused on your hands joined instead. 

Your mouth opens and then snaps shut. No…because that would mean, “You know, for someone who says they don’t get jealous, your eyes are suddenly the prettiest shade of green.” 

You reach out your other hand to touch his cheek but Nick draws his head back, a scoff leaving his lips even though there’s a twitch of a smile there. He knocks your hand away and that makes you laugh, the giggling seeming to melt whatever ice was holding onto his shoulders. They relax, his movements warm towards you, and he squeezes the hand he’s still holding. 

“No, it’s cute really!” You continue, even when he turns you around to face the passenger side of the car, grabbing the door to open it up for you. “That you wanted my laser focus on you throwing punches, I’ll remember that next time.” 

You expect him to completely ignore you, you expect him to give a wiseass comment and encourage you to get to the car. You do not expect him to lean against your body, his head tilting down to brush his lips against your ear as he speaks, 

“You better.” 

—

Staring down at the card on your desk, you’re unsure of what to do with it. 

You know your mom wanted to move to start over, something disconnected from your dad and all the issues he caused. It’s not a new story—he cheated on your mom, created an entire new family, wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Nothing to do with you. 

And yet, here on your desk, sits a birthday card. 

It’s a month late and you’re not sure whether that’s because he sent it after the fact or he doesn’t know when your birthday is. Both ideas are plausible. 

Either way, the card unleashes a torrent of emotions you thought you’d gotten over. It’s obvious that while your mother wanted to start new, she gave your dad the London address. You’re just…not sure why. You really hope she doesn’t miss him—you both deserve better than that. Than him thinking that he’s needed or something. 

Your fingers dig into your closed palm, wanting to throw the fucking thing away and yet—yet you can’t do it. Which just pisses you off even more. 

“Y/N.” 

Your head snaps towards the doorway of your bedroom, where Nick is lingering, his eyebrows raised at you. He takes a step in but pauses, his eyes falling to your desk before lifting to your face again. He’s supposed to be picking you up to head to a party at Anna’s and you have no idea how long he’s been waiting, or worse, standing there trying to get your attention. 

“You alright? I’ve been calling you.” 

You clear your throat, moving even though your knees feel like jello, “Sorry, I—yeah, I’m fine.” You force a smile on your face that you’re pretty sure Nick can see right through, “Let’s go.” 

Before he can ask another question, you brush past him in the doorway, the scent of his cologne squeezing your ribs against your lungs. You don’t wait to see if he follows. 

—

The party is a lot of fun and while you know it’s not the best coping mechanism? You allow yourself to be tugged down in the weight of dulling your inhibitions. You let the drinks flow a bit more freely, aren’t as concerned with hydrating with water in-between as you usually are, and readily accept shots when Lion or Jenna bring them back over to your group. While Nick is in the midst of it, you can feel his eyes on you every so often, persistent. And you know what it’s about. 

He knows you, knows something is wrong, but doesn’t push either. He just waits—waits for you to offer whatever it is up to him. 

Well, at this rate, he’s going to be waiting a long time.

A laugh slips out of your lips when Jenna wraps her arms around you, twirling to the beat of the music as you all linger in the living room. 

“Think there’s jello shots in the kitchen.” She grins. And while you’re usually not a jello shots kind of girl, the…jiggling sort of freaks you out. Tonight? You’ll have one. 

“Maybe some water would be a better idea,” Nick tosses out, taking a slow sip of the beer in his hand that he’s had for about an hour. 

“Maybe stop trying to kill my buzz.” You volley back, your voice sharp. 

But Nick doesn’t rise to verbal sparring with you, doesn’t take that bait. He just licks his lips, a muscle working in his jaw before having another sip of his beer. You’re not sure whether you’re more relieved or disappointed. Fighting with him won’t solve your problems—he’s not the one you’re really upset with. 

You swallow down a lump in your throat, turning a bit towards Jenna to give her a smile that hurts your cheeks. “Yes to jello shots.” 

If she senses the weird mood passing between you and Nick, she doesn’t say anything, just moves towards the kitchen to grab the shots. You set down your empty glass on a table, straightening out your dress, crinkling your nose at the jello shot when she returns…but take it anyways. It’s absolutely fucking awful, reminding you of some sort of cherry cough syrup but you force it down your throat. 

It instantly makes you nauseous. 

“I’ll be right back.” You turn to head in the direction of the bathroom, not exactly caring if anyone follows you. You just need a moment to yourself…and to make sure you don’t throw up. 

You head right to the sink, splashing some cold water on your face that makes you feel better. You don’t look at yourself in the mirror, unsure you’d like what you saw there. You know this is completely unlike you, to let something like this sway you right into trying to bury your emotions instead of meeting them head-on. It’s just…too much for you to deal with right now. Especially since you thought the problem had been solved with moving. 

You rub the back of your neck, shaking your head. Fucking birthday card. 

When you open the bathroom door, you bump right into— “Cole.” 

He smiles down at you, his eyes a little glassy, probably matching your own. “Hey! I was wondering if you were here. I was gonna text you.” 

You raise your eyebrows, warmth blooming in your chest. He looks really handsome tonight—black jeans, white button down that’s slightly open, sleeves rolled up his forearms. “Yeah? Well, here I am.” 

He licks his lips and nods, his gaze finding your mouth. You’re wearing a berry shade of lipstick tonight—always a crowd pleaser. “Here you are.” He glances past you towards where the stairs are, “You uh, you want to head up to the second floor? Anna’s got a balcony—we could smoke.” 

A few things that sound altogether like a bad idea—stairs, heading upstairs with someone that you barely know even though he seems nice, and smoking. You don’t smoke at all, it’s just not something that’s ever caught your appeal but…sitting on a balcony does sound like something you’d like, the fresh air and everything. 

But…there’s a dip in your stomach, that same nausea from before. It’s not a good idea. You’d rather have your wits about you to hang out with Cole for the first time, not like this. Not heading to the second floor into rooms that are probably a lot more private when you don’t…you don’t know him. You don’t trust him. 

“Uhm,” You shake your head, “No, I think—”

“C’mon,” He grins, taking a step closer but not touching you, “I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” He promises, sticking his hands in his pockets. “These hands will stay in these pockets.” 

You can’t help but laugh, glancing towards the stairs before letting out a sigh—he does look utterly defenceless like that, “Alright.” 

But you don’t even make it up two steps before you feel a firm hand on your elbow. For a moment you think it’s Cole breaking the promise he made but…you’d know that touch anywhere. Your gaze finds Nick’s, on the bottom step, heat in his brown eyes so potent that you’re surprised something hasn’t caught fire. 

He’s pissed—which just causes a flip in your stomach and an affronted yank of your arm. 

“Get off, what are you doing?” 

He’s gentle but he manhandles you down the two steps, pulling you past Cole, “Stopping you from making a choice you’ll regret tomorrow.” 

You scoff, bumping into him when you lose your footing. He has zero clue what you were about to do with Cole. But a small voice whispers in the back of your mind that…yes, you were headed somewhere quieter, more private, that while Cole was going to keep his hands in his pockets, it doesn’t mean he could have changed his mind. Doesn’t mean something wouldn’t have happened. Your inhibitions are low and you’re feeling just a bit reckless tonight. 

A little embarrassed and a lot indignant, your fingers dig into the palms of your hands, creating fists, “I don’t need your help.” 

Cole glances between you and him, his hands slipping from his pockets. “Dude, I think she’s good.” 

Nick’s gaze is frigid, ice that’s capable of cutting right through someone, “She’s drunk,” He snaps, his one hand holding onto you while the other shoves Cole in his shoulder, hard. There’s a slight height difference given the steps but Nick’s got a boxer’s stance—balanced, “Fuck off or I’m going to lay your ass out.” He warns but you’re not about to give him the opportunity to do that. 

You quickly yank Nick by his arm in the direction of the front door and once he realizes that’s the direction you’re going, he shifts, his hand hovering along your lower back to guide you towards his car. 

You squirm, picking up on unspoken words, “No, if you want to leave, then leave. I’m not ready yet.” 

“Think you’ve had enough.” Nick mutters, practically through clenched teeth. 

“You don’t get to tell me that,” You turn so fast to shove him that you nearly twist your ankle on the gravel, the only thing keeping you off the ground is Nick’s arm now around your waist—which just pisses you off more. “I can handle myself, I’m fine.” 

Now he scoffs, stopping short, his arm slips from your waist but his fingers graze your forearm, “No,” He replies, shaking his head, “You’re not. You haven’t been fine all night.” 

You swallow over a lump in your throat at the scrutiny, the fact that he sees right through you. You draw in a deep breath, trying to center yourself. You’re not even upset at the whole Cole thing, not really…because despite that you thought you were making an okay choice, anything could have happened. Nick did do you a favor—not that you’re going to admit that now. 

No, you’re not fine. You feel your chest beginning to cave in over this—over him standing in front of you, picking apart your emotions like it’s the easiest thing he’s ever done. So bold of him, given that he never lets you in. Never lets you see how he feels. Him wanting to be there for you offers comfort just as much as it enrages you. 

You shake your head; you’re not going to get into this. You make a shift to walk past him, back into the party. If you’re not going to head upstairs with Cole, you can at least continue your night with Lion and Jenna. 

But Nick blocks your path. 

“Move.” 

“No,” He says, voice calm, “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” 

“I don’t want to talk to you about it.” You snap, trying to go past him again but he’s quick, repositioning his weight so that you end up bumping right into him. “Get out of my way.” 

“Oh so you’d rather play pretend?” Nick asks, his words cutting you more than you thought they would. “Like that’ll fix anything?” 

“Fuck you.” Though there’s no fire behind your voice. His commentary has landed far too sharply, leaving debris in their wake. Fuck him. Like he’s suddenly the poster child for handling his emotions the way he should? 

You don’t even realize your eyes have filled with tears until a sharp breath leaves your lips.  

Nick’s gaze softens and you have to look away as your lip wobbles, a tear slipping down your cheek. He lets out a slow breath out of his nose, reaching up to thumb it away. You push his wrist but he doesn’t let you pull too far away. 

“C’mon,” He whispers, “C’mere.” And wraps an arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his chest. 

The bridge of your nose stings as you squeeze your eyes shut, your face resting against his shoulder as his arms wrap around your frame, hand tangling in your hair. You’re unaware that you’re holding onto him so tightly until he gently pries your hands off just to get you into his car. 

—

Seated on top of the hood of Nick’s McLaren, in his leather jacket, you wait for him in a diner parking lot. He comes out of the front door with two milkshakes and a brown bag of food. Despite feeling a little dizzy and nauseous, you know better than anyone that grease will help you feel grounded. He sets the bag down, handing you a milkshake, 

“They were out of strawberry, that within itself feels criminal.” A small smile tugs the corners of your mouth as you take a sip. “Figured chocolate is a good second bet.” 

You hum, licking your lips as he pushes himself up onto the hood next to you, a few burgers and fries spread out between his leg and yours. Reaching for two fries, you dip them into ketchup after Nick squirts some onto an open burger wrapper. You glance over at him, the lights from street lamps create a warm glow against his handsome face. It’s something that feels…utterly comforting in a way you can’t explain. 

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, throat sore from holding back tears, even after crying a bit against his chest. 

Nick looks over at you, shaking his head as he picks up some fries too, “There’s nothing to apologize for.” 

You chew the inside of your cheek, “I dunno.” You were…a lot tonight. “I almost hit you when you brought me outside.” 

A flicker of a smile pulls at his lips, “I could have taken it.” 

You think that’s true—if you would have done something like slap him, you think Nick just would have rolled with it. Still would have said the same things. Still would have held you. Still would have ended up right here, on his car, with milkshakes and food. 

When a few french fries and your milkshake doesn’t seem to make you sick, you reach for your burger, having a bite. It’s quiet between you two, just the sound of cars and traffic, the night spilling over your bodies. You draw in a soft breath, using a napkin on your lips, wiping away most of your lipstick. 

“My dad sent me a birthday card.” 

You put your burger down, not automatically speaking for a few moments. You appreciate that Nick allows that sentence to sit in the silence. 

“I’m angry my mom gave him our new address, that…he sent a card in the first place.” You swallow, “That it’s late or whatever stupid reason I ended up getting it today and not a few months ago.” 

Your gaze wanders over to him and he’s watching you, listening. You bite down on the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood, so you don’t cry. Admitting this outloud feels like some sort of shameful secret even though you know Nick would never look at you like that, like you have any reason to feel embarrassed. 

“I’m angry that I miss him,” You confess, “That I thought I was done feeling that way.” 

Nick reaches over to place his hand on top of yours, squeezing briefly, “Two things can be true at the same time,” He offers gently, “You know you can hate him and still miss him.” 

You let out a slow breath, sniffling as one more tear escapes. You wipe your cheek and even though your chest is still heavy, you feel better. You’re not sure why you do it, but you lean over and press a kiss to his cheekbone. It’s soft, far too quick, but hopefully enough to convey that you’re grateful for him. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, but other than that, he doesn’t acknowledge it. 

After you eat a little more of your burger, you pick at the fries, resting your head on his shoulder. He shifts a little closer, can feel his lips brush your temple, picking up his milkshake to have another sip. 

“I think the fries taste better with the chocolate shake,” You say after a moment, “Even though we usually get strawberry.” 

You can hear the smile in Nick’s voice when he replies, “I know. I was thinking the same thing.” 

—

But maybe, it’s not about London at all. Maybe you realized that home was never meant to be just a place. 

—

Cole texts you a few nights later apologizing for the party. He admits that he was a little drunk but that he had no intentions of doing anything other than just talking to you on the balcony, or smoking a little, if you wanted to. And you believe him. That night’s a little fuzzy to you for a few reasons but…you do think, overall, Cole’s a good guy. 

Which is why when he asks you out, you say yes. 

—

The four of you tend to have dinner together a lot. Whether it’s ordering in food or making something, time is spent talking around a table and then usually having a late-night swim. Tonight’s no different, making tacos is on the agenda. Lion and Jenna are running late because Jenna wanted to pick up ice cream (amazing of her, to be honest), so that leaves you and Nick in his kitchen messing around with pans of different meat on the stove. Chicken, chorizo, shredded beef, and managing seasonings for this taco night. 

“Mind your business, I got this,” You insist, pushing Nick with your hip towards where he was making homemade guac. All of a sudden he’s super concerned about you adding spices to the meat, like you don’t know what you’re doing. 

“Yeah, the last time I let you help manage what was cooking the carbonara was so spicy I nearly threw it out.” 

You scowl at him, “It was not.” 

“My tongue still hasn’t recovered.” 

“And yet you’re still talking just fine—” A squeak leaves your lips as he attempts to reach for the cayenne in your hand. You lift it above your head which…does nothing because he’s taller than you. 

So you twist a bit, a laugh skittering from your lips as he grabs onto your hip, “C’mon, just a little! We need a little spice in our lives.” 

“That sounds like a threat when you say it.” 

You slip out of his grasp and round the counter, sprinkling it on the chicken with a triumphant grin. Playfully putting your fingers to your mouth, you pull them away with a muah! sound. 

Then, pursing your lips, you pick up the red pepper flakes and pretend (maybe) that you’re going to add them to the chorizo and Nick moves, quicker this time, grabbing the container. Though you realize attempting to take the pepper flakes off of you is pretty much just his fingers wrapping around your own. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

You pout, “Yes, chef.” 

Nick smirks as he looks down at you and you realize very quickly that the front of his body has mapped out against your own, slightly pressing you into the counter. The moment the smile fades just a touch from your lips is the same moment he recognizes it too, going still. But he doesn’t move. 

There’s something that you want to say but it’s stuck in your throat, words you don’t recognize, your eyes instead drinking him in while he’s this close. The gentle gold touching the front of his curls, the layers of brown in his eyes, a shade lighter given the natural sunlight pouring into the kitchen, the warmth of his breath on your face, the beauty marks on his one cheekbone. 

Your heart pounds against your ribcage and you must say his name because he swallows, his other hand moving, cupping your cheek. His thumb brushes along the bone there, drawing down, until it plucks at your lower lip. 

You don’t even realize you’ve kissed the pad of his thumb until it’s too late—a muscle feathers in Nick’s jaw, his restraint seeming to snap as he leans down, his lips touching yours—

And then a loud bang as something drops in the hallway, the space between you two suddenly cold and wide. You draw in a sharp breath, swallowing sour butterflies as your friend’s voices fill the space. 

“Lion!” 

“The ice cream is fine,” He replies, “Slipped out of my hands, Jen.” 

They both come around the corner, moving about the space as your brain spins like it’s on an overactive rinse cycle. You don’t even feel like putting the red pepper flakes in the chorizo anymore, instead, moving to stir all the meat on the stove and turning the fire off. 

“Everything smells amazing.” Jenna grins, setting her hands on the counter. 

“Yeah, we can eat now that you guys are here.” Nick clears his throat, throwing scraps of avocado away from when he was making guac. 

Lion puts the ice cream in the freezer, reaching for a fingerful of cheese from a small bowl to pop into his mouth as you focus on filling a taco shell with chorizo. Something to just…keep your hands busy. You’re not even sure what toppings you add at this point, just anything so that you don’t have to look up at Nick. Your cheeks and the back of your neck feel hot and you hope you’re not as flushed as you feel. 

“Babe,” Jenna says, getting your attention. You blink, realizing you’ve missed something. 

“Sorry, food focused.” You lie through your teeth, giving her a small smile. 

Her eyebrows draw together briefly like she doesn’t altogether believe you, but she repeats, “I said, I worked out those dates for the cabin. We can go this weekend.” 

Oh that’s right. How did you fucking forget? One conversation about wanting to grab some sort of cabin in the woods turned into renting an airbnb in the countryside, not too far away from where Nick’s mother lives actually. It wasn’t exactly the snowy escape you were picturing but it was close to a lake and cold enough in the wooded area to do some sort of bonfire outside. The fact that it was put together and decided on was good enough for you, it’s different from the usual set of things that you guys do together. 

“Right,” You clear your throat, “I actually…I have a date on Friday? But it’s early. It should wrap up right before I drive out to meet you guys.” 

You can feel more than see Nick go motionless across the room. 

Jenna raises her eyebrows with a grin, “No shit—is it with Cole?” 

You swallow, your eyes flickering across the counter towards Nick. It’s brief but you see it—the straightening of his shoulders, a muscle working in his jaw when he grits his teeth, a slow breath out of his nose when he leans against the counter. It’s gone almost as soon as it appears, replaced with a neutral expression. A lie. 

“Yes,” You tell Jenna, and then she asks for details, pushing aside the airbnb weekend plans for right now. 

Nick doesn’t meet your gaze for the rest of the night. 

—

You and Nick don’t talk about what nearly happened in his kitchen which is…fine. Because nothing happened. There’s no reason to talk about nothing, is there? It was just a moment, a blip in time, not quite a mistake but the unsure, quiet promise of what if? And yet neither of you bring it up. That has to be a sign too, right? 

So you keep pressing forward, plan for your date with Cole, pack for a long weekend cabin trip. Which is what you’re trying to do right now. 

Nick lounges on a cushy chair in your walk-in closet, scrolling through his phone as you toss another sweater towards an open suitcase on the floor. He glances down at your growing pile, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. 

“You do realize we’re going for three nights, not for a month.” 

You crinkle your nose, your hands slipping to your hips as you regard him, “Uhm, who has the extensive knowledge of horror movies that happen in the woods? It’s not you.” 

A grin spreads over his handsome face and he puts his phone down, leaning up a little to rest his elbows on his knees. “And that explains why you need…” He tilts his head, “Four sweaters?” 

“I’m going for variety, options—you never know what you might need.” You state, like it’s obvious. You then sit on the floor in front of your suitcase, tossing things out of it so you can neatly fold everything in…oh right, you need shoes too. “This is why if there’s an axe murderer, I’ll be one of the only ones to survive.” 

Nick reaches for a lacy bralette sticking out from under one of the sweaters, holding it between two fingers, “Oh why, because you’ll have this?” 

You scoff out a laugh, snatching it from his hand, “Shut up.” 

Grabbing a pair of lounge slippers and two pairs of sneakers, you place them in the bottom of your suitcase, starting to fold sweaters. Your phone vibrates and when you take it out of your pocket, a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips when you see Cole’s name. Nick shifts in his seat in front of you and when you follow the movement, your eyes fall to his. 

He motions to your phone with his chin, “Cole?” 

You let out a slow breath before nodding. Unsurprisingly, this topic feels like a series of landmines. You want to regret what almost happened in the kitchen because it spun you through such a loop. Though, at the same time? You again wonder why it should matter—why should nothing happening make you feel like your insides are tied into knots? 

You almost believe that...until you get a good look at Nick's face. 

While it might seem impassive, you know him. There's a taut line of his spine, a gentle crinkle between his eyebrows, his jaw clenching like he’s grinding his molars together, like he wants to say something but doesn't know how. Isn't sure of the words. 

You draw in a breath, “You don’t like him?” 

You try to convince yourself that Nick’s opinion is as important as Jenna’s would be, or Lion’s. That he cares about you and therefore has your best interests in mind. 

But really, you know that it’s more than that. His opinion matters the most, even though you’re not sure why. 

(Yes, you do.) 

Nick leans back, “Kinda rubbed me the wrong way.” 

Right. That whole night is kind of foggy for you, which you suppose is Nick’s point. The whole ‘going upstairs with unclear intentions’ thing. Not entirely Cole’s fault, but…you’re not about to jump in and give an explanation either. You’re not sure if it’d matter—he’s not going to budge on it. It’s in the set of his shoulders, the chill in his unwavering gaze. 

You nod a little, looking down at your suitcase like it’s holding something far more interesting than this conversation. Then, a twitch of your lips, a familiar comment sitting on your tongue as you look up at Nick, 

“Are you sure you just don’t like him because you’re jealous?” Your voice is warm and teasing, yet it meets a wall of ice. 

Nick holds your gaze for a long moment, his fingers playing with the silver chain-link bracelet on his one wrist, “I’m not.” 

You wait for that moment for the air to shift, for a teasing tilt to come to his lips, for him to make a joke about you bringing this up again. That moment doesn’t come. 

He clears his throat, looking down at his hands, “I just…I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

That…is not what you expect him to say, and while you’d usually appreciate a comment being made like that, it just…slips under your skin in the worst way, like little pin-pricks in your veins. You straighten your back a bit, reaching for a sweater to fold, 

“I can take care of myself.” 

The soft smile you were after flickers across his lips, just barely, “I know.” He picks up a sweater as well, folding it too, “Doesn’t mean you should have to.” 

There’s something in the way that he says that, it digs between your ribs, right into the cage. Like he’s trying to pluck butterflies out and set them free. All at once, this feels far too complicated—not talking about what happened in his kitchen, about Cole, about your date, about what you deserve, about Nick sitting here in your closet as you fold clothes into your suitcase like it’s the easiest thing you two have ever done. 

You shake your head, “I don’t want you to worry about me.” You stand with the suitcase, carrying it into the other room to set on your bed. There are some other things you can pack. Toiletries, or something. You just need to move around. You slip into your bathroom and just like you knew he would, he follows, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. 

“Someone ought to.” 

Swallowing over an emotion in your throat, you point out, “Not you.” 

Nick’s quiet for a moment, reaching out to touch your wrist. Only when you stop moving does he lift his hand to brush his thumb over your jawline. “Why not?” 

You’re not sure what you’re supposed to say, nothing feels like it fits. You tilt your chin into his touch, lips brushing over his skin. You hate how you wonder what it’d be like to kiss him. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket again, making you take a step back from him. The energy fizzles between you two, like an atom being ripped in half, something so brash and sudden that it makes you draw a deep breath into your lungs. 

You glance up at him, “You know why.” 

Walking past him, you try not to think about that if he’d just admit that something was there, that maybe, he was in fact jealous—you probably wouldn’t be going out on this date with Cole at all. 

—

Admittedly, you’re still trying to figure it out, how jealousy can be considered a ‘useless’ emotion. That’s what Nick had called it right? Useless? And yet, you feel like it’s colored everything in your relationship thus far, whether he realizes it or not. Whether he wants to admit it or not. 

You don’t mean for it to happen, but when you’re with Cole, your mind wanders. You think about if the roles were reversed, if Nick was the one on a date night now, if he was out with Anna…would you just sit idly by? Would you not tell him how you felt? 

You’re not about to justify anything that your father has done, but didn’t he just walk around bottling his emotions? Keeping them under lock and key, festering them like an open wound until it turned into something ugly, unsalvageable? You don’t want that. 

You and Nick are complicated, messy, and he may have trouble sharing how he feels but you know what? So do you. 

“You’re distracted tonight,” Cole comments, having a sip of his drink. 

You blink, your thoughts shuffling back to him, and you at least have the decency to look a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I’m—”

“Thoughts elsewhere?” He asks, a small smile, far more polite than you deserve. “On him? Nick?” 

You swallow, waiting for the moment where he gets upset, where he gets angry—you wouldn’t blame him, you’ve obviously wasted his time. But he doesn’t look at you like that, just takes some cash out from his back pocket to pay for both of your drinks. 

“Glad to see it’s that obvious.” A soft, humorous laugh leaves your lips. 

Cole shrugs, “I could kind of sense something when I met you, just wasn’t sure if it was serious or not.” The unspoken end of that sentence is, it’s obviously serious. 

And yet, “It’s complicated.” 

He doesn’t like that answer, crinkles his nose a little as a scoff slips out, “So uncomplicate it. You waiting for something specific?” 

Another laugh rumbles in your chest but it doesn’t make any sound, because…yeah. For some reason, you’re waiting for him to admit something he shouldn’t have to, for him to acknowledge that something is there, crackling between the two of you. 

“Haven’t you seen enough?” Cole asks quietly and you hold his gaze for a long moment—

thinking about Nick. 

Thinking about the way he smiles at you, the way he holds your hand, the way his arms wrap around you to pull you close, the soft laugh he does which is mostly just air leaving his nose, the soothing timber of his voice. The way he bends over backwards to make you feel better, to hear you, to see who you really are, even the uglier parts, and not looking away. The way he makes you laugh, especially when you’re sad, the way he knows exactly what to order for you at the diner, even when they’re out of strawberry milkshakes. 

And Cole—Cole’s right. 

Haven’t you seen enough? 

—

Maybe home was never meant to be a place. Maybe home is a person. 

—

You get to the cabin a little later than you wanted. 

The place you guys rented is tucked into trees, near water, and you remember thinking that Nick’s sister would probably love to explore a place like this. It’s a large, contemporary space, dark green paneling, a large porch with plenty of cushy seats and a bench swing. While you teased that the cabins in all those movies you’ve watched don’t have things like WiFi or televisions, you’re glad that this comes with amenities. You’re not exactly a ‘rough it in the wilderness’ type of girl, even though the aesthetic is admirable. 

Cole’s car slides over gravel, pulling up next to Nick’s McLaren. You get out, giving him a warm thanks before grabbing your bag from the backseat, waving as Cole backs up out of the driveway and heads on his way. 

You breathe in deeply, the scent of trees and earth greeting you, bugs trilling and adding to the ambiance even though the weather isn’t warm. You pull your sweater a little tighter around you, turning to walk towards the stairs—

“Take it the date went well.” 

You almost jump out of your skin, your hand going to your chest as Nick stands from the bench swing on the porch in a pair of black sweats, and a large oversized knit-sweater. Jesus. The sight is striking, which is the last thing you need, given how your heart is hammering at his surprise welcome. 

“Jesus Nick, haven’t I told you enough about these movies not to sneak up on people like that?” 

But then you realize what he’s said, about Cole dropping you off, the slight dip in his voice. There’s a wall there, wrapped around himself, like he could care less about how your night went. Except, that tells you everything you need to know. 

That he cares far too much. 

You walk up the stairs to the porch, setting your bag down on one of the chairs. He turns a little, facing you, leaning back against the banister, eyes brushing over your form in a way that shouldn’t feel so intimate. 

“My car wouldn’t start,” You reply, “Cole offered to drive me, so you can stop sucking on that lemon at any point.” 

“I’m not—”

An amused noise leaves your lips, “That scowl is practically etched into your face. Hasn’t anyone ever told you you’ll get wrinkles like that?” You touch his cheek, brushing your thumb along the bone there. Jealous, he’s jealous. You don’t need him to confirm anything this time. 

You expect him to roll his eyes, huff off your accusations, maybe even gently push you away. But he doesn’t. He just holds your gaze—and doesn’t deny it. It solidifies in his pretty brown eyes as he looks down at you, his silence is answer enough. He turns his head just a little, his lips pressing against the end of your hand, near your wrist. 

Your heart ricochets right into your throat, encouraging you to keep talking. 

“Do you know why my date didn’t go well tonight?” You ask quietly and there’s a flash of something in Nick’s gaze—protectiveness, you think. Like he expects you to tell him that Cole did something awful. You suppose, given the last interaction Cole and Nick had, you shouldn’t be surprised. 

But you don’t want him to think that. Cole actually helped you work through emotions that you didn’t know how to say. 

You press your thumb against his lower lip, “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

The words barely leave your mouth before Nick pulls your hand away and kisses you.

Something unlocks in you, a shuddered sigh that feels like finally and that seems to be all Nick needs to encourage you forward, against him, picking you up in a fluid motion to carry you inside. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist, holding onto him and savoring the groan that leaves his throat when your tongue teases the seam of his lips, meeting his own. 

You have no idea where Jenna and Lion are, and honestly? It’s a fleeting thought as he takes you into a sitting space, depositing you on one of the couches. You don’t let him get very far, not wanting him to pull away, like if he…backs up enough, he might realize what you’re both doing. He might stop. He might have time to regret this. 

You’re not sure you’d ever recover if that were the case. 

His hands travel to your hips, squeezing to get your attention, and when your eyes meet his, he nips at your lower lip, “Do you want me to stop?” 

God, that’s the last thing you want. You appreciate the sweet concern, but you give an insistent shake of your head that makes his lips twitch into a smile. His hand slides between your bodies, thumbing at the button of your jeans. Again, a hesitance, and when give a soft yes against his lips, he undoes them and slides them down. 

The cool air kisses your heated skin and you don’t even care that he’s fully clothed and you’re missing some of yours, all that you care about is how Nick sinks to his knees, pressing yours open to accommodate his body. He plants a kiss to the inside of your thigh, not close enough to wear you want him. His hand slips up, his thumb brushing over the center of you—

“You’re practically soaked through.” His voice rumbles, eyes alight with something possessive. You almost laugh at all the claims about not being jealous. Almost. The giddiness is somewhat swallowed by how turned on you are. 

You follow that train of thought easily, “All for you,” Your voice comes out in a whisper, breathing slightly heavier, “Just you.” 

Fuck. Your hips roll just a little, your hand threading through the front of his curls, resisting the urge to tug him closer. 

Nick’s fingers curl around your underwear, tugging them down and out of his way, his body warm and solid when he settles between your legs again. The anticipation of his lips on your skin makes you cry out when it finally happens, his tongue circling around your clit before traveling down the center of you. His one hand places your leg on top of his shoulder, while the other travels up your body, cupping your cheek, almost covering your mouth. 

You tip your chin, encouraging that, because you’re not sure you’re going to be able to keep your sounds to yourself. 

Nick works you open with his tongue, eventually using his fingers while he pays close attention to your clit. He reads you like an open book, words printed directly onto your skin, knows what you need and when you need it, a build-up of pressure that makes your body tremble until you’re chasing after that release. When his tongue flicks quickly over that bundle of nerves, fingers curling up—you cum, hard, his name on your lips. The sounds are muffled by his hand, which is quickly replaced with his mouth as he kisses you. 

You feel slightly dizzy when he pulls his hand back, a series of pecks from his lips along your jawline, his body resting against your own. Your eyes slip closed as you come down from your high, heartbeat in your ears, only tipping your chin down to look at him when you feel like you can breathe normally again. 

Nick smiles a little, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. 

“So just to be clear,” You whisper after a moment, “This is you not jealous?” 

He playfully pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger before he draws you into another kiss. 

—

The patio area behind the house is spacious, filled with an in-ground fire pit and cushioned seats. You sit on the center seat of the couch, leaning back against the oversized pillow, a pair of sweats and a hoodie on. Tugging the sleeves over your hands, you breathe in the scent of Nick’s lingering cologne, your eyes slipping closed as the high flames kiss your face. 

A yawn slips out of your lips when you stretch your legs out, your gaze falling to Jenna who’s curled up in a chair across from you, a light smile tugging her mouth. 

“So,” She says after a moment, her voice almost lost to the crackling fire. It sends orange flecks that remind you of fireflies into the sky. “No more Cole?” 

You smile a little, can’t help it. 

It’s been a day and a half at the cabin, you and Nick nearly inseparable. So it’s…obvious that something has happened between the two of you. You’re a little addicted to kissing him, at the feeling of his hands on your body, at the way he smiles into your skin when he pulls you close. And while the physical changes are nice? It’s not just that. It’s the way you’ve always been with one another, that intimacy and closeness in the way you can share anything, talk about everything. 

Jenna lets out a soft laugh, “Yeah, I didn’t think he was going to stand a chance.” 

You scoff out a laugh too, “Bullshit.” 

“I was trying to be supportive!” 

Cole will definitely be someone nice to date for someone else, just…not for you. 

You smile, glancing up as the backdoor springs open, Lion and Nick coming out with hot coffees and a few extra blankets. Your stomach does a tell-tale swoop, a small smile tugging the corners of your mouth as he wanders over where you’re seated. He passes a coffee into your hands, fingers brushing, pulling himself onto the couch to sit in the corner. 

He wastes no time drawing you close and you fold easily into his chest, careful not to jostle the coffee, taking a small sip.  As you lean into his chest, Nick flutters the blanket over you both, his hand cupping your arm. He rubs back and forth to create friction, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth as your gaze meets his. He presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose, 

“Good?” He asks softly, though you’re not sure if he’s asking about the coffee or just…everything. How comfortable you are on the couch, if you’re warm enough, if you’re enjoying the time spent at the cabin. If you’re happy. 

You smile, tipping your chin up to kiss the corner of his mouth, covering all the above. “Good.”

—

Home is a person.