#this show has done everything right for me

[nanenna]

Let's Wrap this Up, Folks

Sleepy King Masterpost

No editing, we die like Vlad (slowly, painfully, and unmourned). I'm so happy to say this is done!

---

Danny held Cujo close as he scritched him behind the ears, nothing like stinky puppy kisses to help him feel better. And right now he felt pretty awful! Dark Dan had been Ghost King too, it’s just that no one ever told him so he didn’t know. Well, judging from how Johnny and Kitty reacted no one else knew either, and he guesses that was a good thing. Except now everyone does know, between Johnny and Kitty, and the whole of the Far Frozen he’s pretty sure gossip is already getting around.

“Alright, everyone ready to sit down and explain some shit?” Stinky trenchcoat man said. Danny had been introduced, he just didn’t care to remember Blondie’s name.

“Language!” Mom scolded.

“Yeah, yeah.” Stinky plopped himself onto one of the chairs. Wonder Woman sat elegantly in another while Batman loomed over her chair’s back. The not-a-ghost guy, Deadman, was hovering near Stinky.

Danny decided the safest thing to do was to squeeze himself between Mom and Jazz on the couch. Cujo laid himself out across their laps on his back, begging for belly rubs. Vlad seemed to take the Batman approach, standing off to the side and looking rather annoyed.

Stinky pointed at Danny, “Let’s start with the obvious, you somehow, and I’ve yet to figure it out but I will, are Phantom.”

Danny looked over at his parents. Mom smiled brightly as she patted his arm, “Why don’t you show them what you can do?”

“Yeah, Danno! Show them the Fenton gumption!”

Danny sighed as he transferred Cujo over to Jazz’s lap. Thankfully so long as he was getting attention he’d probably be okay. He stood up and moved into the middle of the room. “It’s kinda bright,” he warned before letting his transformation wash over him. “Tada,” he said lamely, arms held out as he stood in the middle of the room.

“Christ on a cracker!” Stinky yelled as he flopped back dramatically.

“You should see what Vlad looks like,” Danny said wryly.

“Daniel!” Vlad yelled angrily.

“Constantine already told us you two are the same form of being,” Batman said gravely.

“I would also point out that young Danny here has already accused you of some very suspicious activities,” Wonder Woman added.

“Vladdie was going through some things!” Jack stood and shook a fist at the Justice League.

“He’s working on reforming,” Maddie added with a smile.

“The biggest thing he was holding over my head was my secret identity,” Danny gestured as he spoke, then stopped and stared down at his hand. “Am I wearing armor? What? Where did…?” He looked down. He was covered in black armor with a white like loincloth, or whatever those are called, and some kind of white fur cape at his shoulders. He found the cape behind him and held it up: yup. White fluffy fur, kinda reminded him of the yeties. “Wait, I don’t have horns, do I?” He felt over his head, thankfully just finding his regular hair.

“No, Danny, you don’t have horns,” Jazz said with a giggle.

“Well excuse me, Pariah has horns! And so does Frostbite, this cape reminds me of him.” He patted himself, getting a feel for his new armor, it felt weird. “Where did this even come from?”

“Congrats, it comes with the title,” Stinky said with a hand wave.

“I don’t get it, the other ghosts said it wasn’t like a magical title or something, that Pariah just declared himself king and did everything himself. Why am I getting the magical girl outfit upgrade?”

“Pariah stole the crown, much like your weird uncle here tried to do.”

Danny snorted at Constantine calling Vlad his weird uncle.

“But the crown is much older than Pariah Dark, it decides who it belongs to.”

Well that was just great, he’s pretty sure Clockwork had something to do with this. “Ugh, this sucks! How do I get rid of it?” Danny asked.

“You don’t.”

Everyone just stared at Constantine.

“What?”

“Congrats, you’re the new Ghost King. Comes with a castle, an army of thralls, and a pretty significant power boost. Probably doubled since apparently you’re the king twice over.”

“No, I have school on Monday! I can’t go to school looking like this!” Danny waved at himself.

“Danny,” Jazz said while trying to hide a grin, “the armor wasn’t on your human form.”

“Oh… right.” Danny de-transformed and looked down at his hands, the rings were still there. “Um!”

“Sorry, kid, no such thing as a part time king, the crowns and rings are permanent now.”

“Noooooooo!” Danny wailed! His normal life! That he was finally getting back since his parents put better protections on the portal after finally telling them the truth! “I just wanted to graduate high school, was that too much to ask?”

Batman grunted, apparently in agreement.

Danny pointed at Stinky, “This is all your fault! If it weren’t for that spell you hit me with they wouldn’t be stuck.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Danny! Here you guys are!” Ellie came flying into the room, her backpack dragging on the ground. She stopped when she spotted the Justice League members all staring at her. “Uh….”

Cujo barked and scrambled out of Jazz’s lap, leaping for Ellie.

“Cujo! Who’s a good boy?!” The two began happily and loudly rolling around on the ground.

Sam and Tucker followed shortly after, both pausing in the doorway. “Uh… Danny?” Tucker asked slowly, “Why are Batman and Wonder Woman in Vlad’s living room?”

“More importantly,” Sam cut in, “why do you have the Crown of Fire over your head? Twice?”

“Turns out I’m the Ghost King, and so was you-know-who.”

“Which you-know-who?” Tucker asked.

“Nasty Burger explosion.”

Tucker still looked a little confused.

“Since Constantine said the second crown was from an alternate timeline, I’m guessing it belonged to an alternate version of yourself, one you also had to beat in combat.”

Danny sighed and deflated, “You really are the world’s greatest detective.”

Batman’s only response was a twitch of his lips. Danny never wanted to play poker with him.

“Danny, why haven’t you told us about this?” Mom asked in that very special tone of voice that meant she was Not Mad Just Disappointed.

“Well… he was evil,” Danny blurted out as his shoulders hiked up to his ears. “I don’t wanna be evil.”

Jazz came over and pulled him into a hug, “And we’re taking steps to make sure that doesn’t happen, part of that is getting you a proper support network. And look! Now we can ask the Justice League for help.”

“If you don’t mind, why hasn’t anyone called us before now?” Wonder Woman asked.

“What? So an overshadowed Superman can run amok and then there’s a photo of me punching Superman in the face on the front of the newspaper? No thanks.” That was the last thing Danny needed.

“What do you think the magic user branch of the Justice League is bloody for?” Stinky asked loudly.

“I didn’t know there was a magic user branch!” Danny defended.

“None of us did,” Tucker added. He moved to go sit on the floor and lean against the couch, Sam joined him.

“In all fairness, we do not advertise Justice League Dark,” Wonder Woman said with a gentle smile. “But now that we know our assistance is needed we are happy to help.”

“I’m not sure what you can do at this point, we’ve locked down the main way ghosts have been getting into Amity. Mostly it’s the natural portals now, and there’s not much anyone can do about those.”

“Can you get the GIW to back off?” Sam asked.

“Oh! I hadn’t thought about that,” Danny said eagerly.

Batman frowned, “What’s the GIW?”

“Hey!” Ellie came up to the side of Wonder Woman’s chair, “Can you teach me how to sword fight? That sounds so cool!”

“Why ask her?” Danny wandered over, leaving his friends to explain the Gits in White to Batman. “You can just ask Pandora.”

“I don’t have four arms like Pandora,” Ellie whined.

“So just duplicate, it’s easy!” Danny stuck his tongue out and furrowed his brow in concentration, sweat beading on his forehead before his arms split into a second pair. Then, just like Frostbite taught him, he made four ice swords, one in each hand. “See?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “Oh, it’s so easy! Says the guy who can’t even make one whole duplicate.”

“It’s hard!” Danny defended. “And I can, I could do it with the exo-skeleton, just… not since.” He’d been trying, but duplication was hard, he didn’t seem to have quite enough power. “Wait a minute, I have a power boost with the crowns.” Danny took a step to the left, Danny also took a step to the right. Now there were two Dannies with a perfectly normal number of arms, each holding an ice sword. Each also had a pair of crowns over their head. “Huh, so that’s what it looks like,” both Dannies said in unison.

“Ew, stop it, that’s so weird,” Ellie said in disgust.

“Hey guys! Look what I can do!” Dannies both said with a grin as he popped out several more duplicates. This was going to be fun!

---

Omake:

Danny trudged into school on Monday, chatting with Sam and Tucker, still wearing the crowns and rings along with his normal clothes. He went straight to his locker, getting ready for the day. On time for once!

“Hey Fenturd!” Dash jeered from down the hall, “Why’d you miss school on… uh… what’s that?”

Danny closed his locker and looked up at Dash, “What’s what?”

“What do you mean what’s what? What’s that above your head?”

Danny looked up, then back at Dash, “What’re you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy, there’s a crown above your head! It’s on fire?????”

“Dash, I think I would notice a floating, flaming crown above my head.”

Dash looked completely confused, he looked over at Kwan, who was also frowning. “Kwan!”

“I can see it too, it’s there.”

“Right! Hear that, Fentina?”

Danny just looked at Dash like he’d lost his mind, “This is a really weird prank.”

“I’ll prove it!” Dash whipped out his phone and took a picture, then held the screen out. “There, see?”

Danny looked at the phone, “I just see me and Sam and Tucker.” His friends also leaned in and looked at the screen.

Dash pulled his phone back and looked at it, sure enough the crown wasn’t in the photo. But it was also still floating above Danny’s head, and Kwan had also seen it. What was going on?

“Anyway, I’m gonna go turn in my homework, I don’t want to get stuck in summer school.” Danny turned and wandered off to first period, his friends in tow.

Dash was… very confused. He knows what he saw, he knows the other students saw it too!

“Isn’t that the crown the Ghost King had?” Paulina asked as Danny left.

“I… think so?” Dash said uncertainly.

“I think there were two of them,” Kwan added.

They all followed Danny to first period, they had it together after all. They arrived just after Danny, just in time to hear Mr. Lancer shout, “Sword in the Stone! Mr. Fenton, what is that over your head?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Danny answered calmly while Sam and Tucker, standing just a step behind him, were wildly shaking their heads and making various “Do not” gestures.

“I… You… that is…” Mr. Lancer glanced back and forth, clearly conflicted.

“I managed to finish that essay,” Danny said cheerfully handing it over. “Sorry about Friday, but it should be excused.”

“Yes, I was told about that… something about the Justice League?” Mr. Lancer stared at the crown.

“Yeah, I got to meet them! It was wild.” Danny smiled charmingly.

“Alright, yes, well… please take your seats, class will be starting soon.” Mr. Lancer looked at the crown one last time, then seemed to decide it wasn’t his business and to carry on like usual.

“Oh my god,” Danny whispered to Tucker and Sam as they went to their seats, “I can’t believe that worked!”

“Just your usual day in Amity Park,” Tucker said with a snicker.

Val came walking over once they were seated. She stared at the crowns over Danny’s head, then down to the rings on his fingers no one had noticed yet. Her eyes turned to narrow slits. Danny put a finger to his lips and winked.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 10

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9

It takes a bit for Steve to go to pick up Eddie’s letter. A part of him is afraid of what he’ll find. It’s just, this will be in reply to the first letter he’d written that felt wholly like his own. So, he hesitates, afraid the words will condemn him, or there won’t be any at all. So, he stalls.

Chrissy never asks him about it, just follows his lead the way she always has when it comes to Eddie.

When he does finally go to the library to pick it up, he goes alone. Steve knows Chrissy’s going to be upset, and he gets that. It was stupid, and childish, and dangerous. He trusts Chrissy, he does, but he doesn’t want to share this response with her.

Not yet.

It’s safely tucked into his backpack; the library had felt too open—left him feeling exposed—for Steve to feel comfortable opening it there, without Chrissy there as his shield.

He’s about to enter the bathroom, ready to hunker down in a stall and read the letter when a snide voice coming from behind stops him in his tracks.

“You know, it’s fucked up that you’ve been following your girlfriend around like that.”

Steve turns, stunned. He’s stuck in the entrance to the bathroom, the swinging door hitting him in the back as he stares into the angriest set of eyes he’s ever seen.

He only recognizes her in the nebulous way everyone in a small town recognizes each other, but she’s glaring at him like he ran over her puppy without telling her.

“What?” Steve asks, already lost in this interaction after one sentence.

She huffs. “Chrissy can have friends,” the unknown girl spits. “And, get this, she can even have guy friends.”

She gasps showily once she’s done speaking, hand over her mouth and everything. Steve almost wants to smile, it reminds him so much of Eddie. But, her eyes are still hard, and her hands are fisted tight like she’d rather hit him than talk to him.

“I know that.” Steve says for lack of anything else to say.

Both of the girl’s eyebrows raise and she laughs condescendingly enough that a couple girls walking down the hallway look over and giggle at his predicament. No one else pays them any mind.

“Do you?” she asks, taking a step forward, forcing him back, a step into the bathroom. “Because you sure like to follow her around as she talks to Munson.”

Steve’s own brows are furrowed now as his confusion mounts. Is she here, what, defending Chrissy’s right to be friends with Eddie? Even if they were dating, Steve wouldn’t stop her from being friends with anyone. Hell, even at the height of their relationship issues, he’d never once tried to stop Nancy from seeing Jonathan.

He’s not following her around as some sort of fucked-up chastity chaperons. It’s about her safety.

“Jason—” he starts, but she cuts him off with such a disgusted scoff that he closes his mouth hard enough that his teeth clack together.

“Oh, so Jason was a dick-bag, so you’ve decided to follow in his footsteps?”

“No, that’s not—”

She laughs, and it sounds mean. “No, no, of course it’s not creepy when you do it,” she says, clapping like he’s the one putting on a little show for any passerby to see. “King Steve is above all that.”

She takes another step forward, and Steve, for some fucked up reason, can feel his hands shaking. As if this girl is really a threat. She feels like one, with her clenched fists and acerbic tongue and all her goddamn assumptions.

“You don’t know anything about me.” He wants it to come out assertive. It doesn’t.

He feels small.

She laughs again. “Everyone knows everything about you,” she replies. “Not much to know, is there?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but it still scratches into all of his hidden little insecurities. Maybe they’re not all that hidden anymore because he can feel his face crumpling in on itself, and can’t do anything to stop it.

“We’re not even dating,” he blurts out, quick and panicked, voice catching embarrassingly with emotion.

Steve takes a few more quick steps back, breath shuddering in his lungs as he lets the door swing closed between them. Just before it slams shut, Steve catches sight of the shocked look on the girl’s face. He can’t bring himself to care.

God, why did he say that? Some unknown girl is a little mean to him and he outs Chrissy’s secret, just like that?

It hadn’t felt just a little mean, though. It’d felt like he was being flambéed; it still does.

Because she’s right. Everyone always is, about him. Big house, no parents. Pretty, but the pool’s shallow. Not the sharpest tool in the shed. Bullshit.

Not much to know, is there?

He’s got an empty house, and an empty spot at his side to prove it. Nancy hadn’t stayed, and the wound's long since healed over, but Eddie’s been carving out a similar one in his own shape for months now. It grows deeper each time he smiles at Chrissy only to sneer at Steve behind her back.

It grows deeper each time he talks to Chrissy with Steve’s own words pouring out of his mouth.

The late bell rings just as Steve stumbles into one of the vacant stalls and slumps onto the dirty floor, too overwrought to care what filth he’s getting on his ass.

He just needs a second.

“Steve?” It’s the same girl’s voice, barely recognizable without anger punctuating it. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer, but his breathing’s still labored with emotions, so it doesn’t take her long to zero in on his location and swing the stall door open.

“That’s disgusting,” she says, but she shuffles into the stall with him and sits on the dirty linoleum across from him, close enough that their knees knock. “If I get salmonella, you’re paying my medical bills.”

When Steve finally looks at her, her nose is wrinkled in disgust, hands fisted around her knees like she’s trying to keep from touching the toilet or the wall.

“I don’t think that’s how salmonella works,” Steve replies quietly.

The girl rolls her eyes, but it doesn’t feel as mean, somehow. She just looks tired, ashamed almost, even as she replies, “like you’d know,” bitchily. Steve glares at her, and she slumps into herself with a muttered, “sorry.”

They stare at each other. He’s close enough that he can see all the freckles on her cheeks, the eyeliner smudged beneath her eyes, the frizz of her unconditioned hair. And suddenly, it’s all too much.

He laughs, loud enough that it echoes strangely off the vacant bathroom walls as the girl stares at him like he’s lost his mind. It’s just—he’s sitting in the bathroom, knee to knee with a girl who’s name he doesn’t know after arguing about a girlfriend he doesn’t even have.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, waving his hand in front of his face like that’ll somehow dry up the tears of hilarity creeping down his cheeks. “It’s just, I don’t even know your name.”

She scoffs again, but the tap of her knee against his takes the sting out of it. “Robin Buckley,” she says, smiling crookedly at him. “We’re supposed to be in Clickity Clack’s class together right now.”

Steve narrows his eyes, staring hard at her as he tries to match her face to the class. He comes up blank.

“I sit behind you,” she says, interrupting his deer-in-headlights moment with an answer instead.

He squints at her, barely comes up with an impression of frizzy hair and dirty shoes. “Sorry,” he says.

“You borrowed a pen, like, last week.”

Steve pouts. She’s just making fun of him now, smiling as his discomfort grows. “Sorry!”

He shoves her knee, and even though it’s gentle, she shrieks as more of her jeans come in contact with the boy’s bathroom floor. As if she has any right to complain; with her taking up so much space, he’s pressed right into the toilet.

As if to retaliate against him, she asks, “so, you’re not dating Chrissy?”

It’s a probing, nosey question, He shouldn’t be surprised. After knowing Robin for a sum total of five minutes, he can tell she’s a picker. She picks at people, and secrets, and skin, only to be surprised when the spot starts bleeding.

It’s all spiraling out of his control, anyway. First Chrissy, then Jeff. Who’s next, his Mom?

So, here, in the dirty boy’s bathroom, he snaps.

“She’s just helping me with Eddie, okay?” he says, words coming out harsher than he means them to.

Robin’s squinting at him again as she asks, “Munson?”

“She has better handwriting.”

It shouldn’t mean anything to her. But her eyes widen a second later as she stares at him like she’s never seen him before, eyes blown wide, mouth gaping open unattractively. He feels like a zoo animal, caged into this stall so she can gawk.

He’s three seconds away from standing up and leaving the bathroom entirely to flee this situation he no longer understands, when she says, “you’re the one who left Munson the note!”

 *** 

The reaction is immediate. Steve slams himself back hard enough that his head thunks hollowly against the stall. She’d make a joke about empty skulls if he didn’t look three seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack. Robin’s not equipped to deal with that, she’s usually the one panicking. So, she reaches out to squeeze his knee hard enough that his rabbiting pupils meet her eyes.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she says, unsure exactly what secret she’s keeping.

There’s a web of information here, and she’s not spinning the narrative together correctly. The facts are this:

  1. Chrissy dropped a note into Eddie’s locker when she thought no one was                   looking.

  2. Eddie smiled as he read the note.

  3. Soon after, Eddie started spending a lot of time with Chrissy.

  4. Steve started following her around like some sort of over-eager attack dog. 

But, if Steve had written the note, what does that mean? Chrissy’s always seemed nice, but are they playing some sort of cruel joke on Eddie? Does she need to warn her fellow outcast that he’s about to be Carrie’d?

“Who told you about the notes?” Steve asks, voice dead beneath all the shaking.

She holds her hands up. Afraid, suddenly, that he might hit her. “I saw Chrissy drop one in his locker,” she responds, even as she adds another known fact to her list:

  5.   There are multiple notes.

Steve shrinks further away from her, withdrawing his feet like she’s the one that’s the threat. Her leg’s cold where his was pressed against her. She’s always been shit at reading people, but this is starting to look like more than a prank found out.

She goes over her list again, adds a few more things on it:

  6. Steve needed “help” with Eddie.

  7. Steve is afraid of someone finding out about the notes.

He’s curled his arms around his knees and drawn them up to his ribs, containing himself into a much smaller ball than she’d imagined a fully-formed teenage boy could manage.

It’s the familiar posture that drives it home for her; she’s putting her evidence together, and creating a picture she’d never expect.

“I thought you were playing a prank on him!” Robin cries, too loud if Steve’s flinch is anything to go by. She can’t help it— there’s something manic running through her as she stares into Steve’s scared, heartbroken eyes.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he murmurs into his knees, and god help her, she believes him.

“No, you wouldn’t,” she says, hoping her grin doesn’t look as deranged as it feels. “Not with your big gay crush on him.”

She slumps back against the stall, sighing with contentment. She’d always known that there must be other queer people in Hawkins, rule of law, statistics, and all that. But, now she has a name and a face and it’s King Steve of all people! She’s so excited she might just shake right out of her skin.

But, when she opens her eyes, Steve’s gone white as a sheet, a sweat breaking out along his brow like he’s in the middle of a basketball game and not sitting stationary.

Robin can’t tell if he’s even breathing.

She reaches out, trying to pat his knee consolingly. He jerks back, smacking into the wall again in his desperate bid to get away from her.

It’s only then that she realizes what she’d said. Robin slaps her hand over her mouth and curses into it, muffled, shit, shit, shits leaking out around the seal of her fingers. What’s she supposed to do now?

Inversely, the more Robin panics, the more color blooms back into Steve’s cheeks until he’s leaning away from the wall to peer into her face. “Are you okay?” he asks, sounding downright concerned, as if she hadn’t just outed him thirty seconds before.

God, was Steve Harrington actually a nice guy?

Robin flaps her hands around and feels like scum as he leans back away.

“I’m sorry!” she cries, finally reaching out and making contact with his kneecap. The awkward patting doesn’t feel like enough to make up for her careless words.

She’d been so busy seeing herself in him that she’d forgotten he wouldn’t know to look for the same thing reflected back.

“I only noticed because I was always looking at her, but she couldn’t stop looking at you.”

Steve’s brows are furrowed as he asks, “who?”

Robin rolls her eyes even as her heartbeat shudders in her chest, and her own anxiety sweats start moistening her armpits. “Steve, come on.”

He stares at her, and she stares back, trying to beam the information into his head. She doesn’t think she can say it aloud. But, his hands are shaking, a light tremor running through them from fingers to palms. She did that. The least she owes him is a little honestly in turn.

It must work because his eyes damn-near pop out of his skull as he whispers, “Chrissy?” quietly enough that it barely carries to her ears. She nods, her own hands now shaking up a storm until she tucks them into her armpits to settle them down. “I’m not dating Chrissy.”

Robin nods, “I know that now.”

They sit in silence, a couple of mirrors reflecting back at each other with shaky breathing and sweaty bodies. In tandem, they settle, feet tangling in the space between them until Steve’s knee is slotted with her own, foot nudging dangerously close to her ass.

“You like her?” he asks, and he’s smiling now. She almost gets what all the girls see in him.

Robin nods. “Unfortunately.”

“Hey!” Steve says, laughing as he rocks their legs together. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about!”

“Straight best friend,” Robin says, voice droll to cover up all that hurt.

“Maybe,” Steve says, then grimaces. “Probably.”

Robin sighs, slumping into her own stall wall as she whines, wriggling around on the floor despite all the scum on it. Steve laughs at her, squeezing his calves together tightly enough that she’s forced to stop moving. Damn jocks.

“Kind of a cliche though, huh?” he asks, voice teasing. “You’re, what? A drama kid, and you’re crushing on the head cheerleader?”

Robin kicks out at him, narrowly missing what she assumes are his balls. “Band nerd, thank you very much!” she corrects, putting on haughty airs to disguise the blush blooming on her cheeks. By Steve’s smirk, it must not be working. “Besides, what about you? King of the jocks in love with the king of the freaks?”

He kicks her back, and soon, they’re all out scuffling on the boy’s bathroom floor in the middle of class over crushes on people that’ve never looked their way. It ends with her holding his precious hair over the dirty toilet bowl, threatening a swirly until he calls uncle.

“To crushes on straight people?” Steve asks, unfairly un-winded from their impromptu match as he holds out his pinkie finger like they’re little kids again, sharing a secret.

She has her doubts about Munson’s supposed straightness, but she knows an olive branch when she sees one. She’s low on friends, and Steve’s starting to seem like a good one.

Disheveled, out of breath, and feeling lighter than she has in years, Robin links her pinkie with Steve’s, and they shake on it, a silent toast to untenable crushes.

*** 

“There’s another one.”

Chrissy whips her head back, taking a hasty step away from Jeff at the sound of Steve’s voice. “You’re late,” she says, smoothing down the lapels of her skirt like it wasn’t Jeff’s hands that had ruffled it all up.

Does this count as cheating?  The thought enters her brain unbidden, and she has to bite her lip against a laugh that would undoubtedly alert the whole library to their presence. Cheeks aching from the strain, she finally looks up to where Steve’s standing.

All levity drops from her when she sees Steve’s face. It’s too pale for his normal complexion and his eyes are puffy and red like he’d either been crying or making a concerted effort not to. Most telling is his hair, ruffled all to hell atop his head like he’d been running his fingers through it for hours.

“Steve,” she breathes, forgetting all about Jeff and his big, strong hands around her waist as she rushes to her best friend, palms cupping his face. “What happened?”

Steve snorts and asks, “did you not hear me? There’s another one.”

He gestures to his side and only then does Chrissy notice the girl. She’s got mousy brown hair that’s in just as much disarray as Steve’s, and when Chrissy looks her way, she gives a dorky little wave. Chrissy nods back, palms still clutching Steve’s cheeks.

“Another—“ Chrissy starts, looking between the pair, before the meaning of Steve’s cryptic words sink in. “Oh. She knows about—” she starts before trailing off, unwilling to say the rest out loud with a stranger nearby.

“About Eddie, yeah,” Steve says, nodding his head, her arms shaking up and down with the movement.

“I’m Robin, hi!” the girl says, too loudly for the hushed atmosphere of the library.

“Hi?” Chrissy replies, eyeing her distrustfully for a moment before looking back at Steve. “And it went okay?”

Steve nods again, and this time it’s Jeff that laughs, stepping up beside her. Chrissy, suddenly realizing the position she’s in, drops Steve’s face with a blush, hiding her hands behind her back like that would stop anyone from having noticed the awkward hold she’d just had on him.

 “Three for three on accidentally getting outed to people who aren’t going to send a lynch mob after you,” Jeff says jokingly, before continuing in a far more serious tone. “You’ve gotta be more careful, man.”

“I know,” Steve groans. “But, hey, I got three great people out of it.”

He smiles at Jeff and Chrissy, and even loops his arm with Robin’s and yanks her closer like he’s going to initiate a group hug, right then and there. Robin puts a stop to that by elbowing Steve in the side until he drops his hold.

There’s a small, wriggling part of Chrissy that seethes with jealousy as she watches them squabble like siblings. But, Jeff’s warm at her side, and she’ll probably go over to Steve’s again this weekend, and Robin seems pretty cool, so she pushes that feeling down and bumps into Jeff right back.

“Did you also tell him this whole thing was stupid?” she asks, looking at Robin.

Robin, who’s got Steve in a headlock, drops her hold suddenly enough that Steve collapses to the carpet. “Uh, I—“ she says, not even acknowledging Steve as he grumbles beneath her. “Me?”

Chrissy snorts. “Yes, you.”

“Oh!” Robin says, flushing at the misunderstanding. “I mean, no. Us lesbi—I mean, wait.” Steve laughs, and Robin kicks him in the side until he flips from his stomach onto his back, finally sitting up and hauling himself off the carpet. “I mean, I don’t think we’re close enough for that yet?”

Chrissy’s got her eyebrows raised, and the longer she looks, the redder Robin gets, clearly embarrassed about her fumbling words. “I don’t know, you guys seem pretty close,” she finally replies, putting Robin out of her misery.

“You’re the only one for me, Chris,” Steve replies, wrapping her in his arms because he’s the absolute worst.

She hums, letting him rock her back and forth right here, in the middle of the library for anyone to see. “You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had, you know?” she asks, ignoring the way Jeff coughs to hide a laugh somewhere behind her back.

“I know,” Steve replies, kissing her forehead.

*** 

Robin’s surprised when she’s invited over to the Harrington house, but she dutifully follows Steve to his car, sliding into the passenger seat. Parked beside them, Jeff is doing the same with Chrissy’s car, and when she squints through the two panes of glass separating them, she’s pretty sure they’re holding hands.

“What’s going on with them?” she asks, tilting her chin in their direction.

“Hmm?” Steve asks before following her line of sight. “Oh, they’re totally dating, but no one’s told me yet.”

“Oh,” Robin says, looking away, unwilling to see the way the couple is smiling at each other.

Not wanting to think about her own hurt feelings anymore, Robin adds that to her list. This time, it’s not a list of clues, but a list of ways that this is the messiest situation she’s ever seen.

Steve has a crush on Eddie Munson and is writing him love notes.

Eddie clearly thinks Chrissy is the one writing the notes, and,

Eddie??? Probably has a crush??? On Chrissy???

Chrissy is dating Jeff, Eddie’s best friend, but hasn’t told anyone.

Steve Harrington is queer.

The last item on the list is less of these people making a mess, and more a dangerous add-on that has her heart ratcheting up at the thought of any more people finding out, even Eddie. Maybe especially Eddie.

“Sorry, Buckley,” Steve says, reaching over to pat her knee consolingly. “Maybe they’ll break up?”

Robin looks back at Chrissy’s car only to see a pink blush painting the other girl’s face. She looks away, groaning as she bends over to bury her face into her raised knees.

“You guys are all the worst,” she mutters into her jeans, rubbing her face against the rough fabric.

Steve laughs but reaches over to smack her in the leg hard enough that she automatically flinches them back down. “No shoes on the upholstery.”

“Yes, Mom,” she mocks, but settles her feet onto the carpet anyway.

It’s not a long drive—the high school is located centrally to Hawkins, so you can reach pretty much anywhere within fifteen minutes. Loch Nora is only about ten, and within those ten minutes, Robin fiddles with the radio dial incessantly enough that Steve reaches over and flings his glove compartment open so she can rifle through his tape deck instead.

It’s a surprisingly varied collection. She’s just settled on a Pat Benatar cassette when he pulls into the driveway and cuts the engine.

His house is big—two stories and wide, too, but aside from the porch light, there are no lights on, nobody home.

Chrissy pulls into the driveway right behind them, jumping out of her car and rushing to the front door before anyone else has even made it out of their cars. She’s already grabbed a rock out of a potted plant, snatched a key from beneath it, and stuffed it into the imposing front door before the rest of them have stepped out of their seats.

“Yeah, Chris, show everyone where the hide-a-key is, why don’t you,” Steve grumbles, walking beside Robin up to the porch, Jeff on their heels.

Chrissy just swings the front door open, turning around to stick her tongue out at him. “You mean show all your wonderful friends where it is?”

Steve scoffs. “You’re all assholes, and you know it,” he replies, but he’s smiling, small and secret as he follows her into his own house.

Robin stops at the threshold, eyes wide. She’s heard all about Harrington’s ragers, even if they’ve dropped off to nothing recently, but this isn’t at all what she’d pictured. The house is big, but it’s emptier than she’d expected. Not much on the walls, nothing on the coffee table, no signs of life at all. Chrissy goes through the entire first floor, turning on every light in the place until it’s lit up like a beacon.

Only once she’s done does Steve seem to relax; he uses the toes of his opposite foot to kick off his shoes before bending down and lining them up by the front door. Robin follows his lead, sitting down on the cold hardwood to untie her own high-tops and put them neatly beside his. Jeff takes his own sneakers off while Chrissy tromps through the place in her clean white sneakers like she owns the place.

“Shoes, Chris,” Steve chides.

Chrissy rolls her eyes, but she dutifully kicks her shoes off in Steve’s direction, laughing as he mutters to himself while he cleans up her mess. They remind her so much of siblings that Robin wonders how anyone was ever fooled that they were dating. It’s like all it takes to convince the masses is a letterman jacket and standing a little closer than conventionally allowed.

Had the pair even ever said they’d been dating?

They sit next to each other on the couch, Jeff taking a nearby chair, and Robin settling for the empty space on Steve’s left, too afraid to take the spot next to Chrissy.

She feels awkward, like an intruder in their little inner circle despite Steve inviting her along. The feeling’s only amplified when Chrissy asks, “you didn’t pick up Eddie’s letter yet, did you?” causing an all-out fight between the pair.

Jeff and Robin make awkward eye contact as their voices grow louder, grimacing in commiseration. She won’t say it, but secretly Robin thinks Chrissy is right—it is a stupid risk to pick up the letter himself. Hell, it’s a stupid risk to do this at all.

“Well, can I see it?” Chrissy asks, holding her hand out like it’s a foregone conclusion that Steve will put it in her palm.

He hesitates, looking over to where he’d left his bag by the front door. “Not—” he starts, cheeks turning a faint pink as he searches for words, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Not yet, okay?”

Chrissy blinks, clearly surprised. Before she can respond, Jeff cuts the tension with a, “that good, huh?” which has Steve’s blush darkening to a bright scarlet and Chrissy throwing her head back and laughing.

Something in Robin warms at the teasing. She’d known that Jeff and Chrissy were accepting, but it’s different to see it in front of her—proof of concept. There’s a knot in her mouth that Robin swallows down, afraid that if she doesn’t, her own confession might burst out of her.

I’m a lesbian.

She’s never said it aloud to anyone but her own face in the mirror. She wants to taste it on her tongue. Maybe someday, with these people, she’ll get to.

[sevikas-biceps]

Just to add on to this. Someone might've mentioned it in the tags, but I wanted to put my take on this thought.

[TLDR: me agreeing with OP and then explaining something vaguely Marxist lmao]

Do note that the power imbalance is also there. Yes, the two of them have their own views regarding the situation [Vi being accustomed to the reality of things, Caitlyn having to be shocked into experiencing it firsthand (and even then not the whole scope of this systemic issue)]—but their subjective experiences don't change the fact that, from a complete bird's eye view, the conflict of power exists.

We see this multiple times in the show. We see this already laid out for us, in several instances, in Season 1.

In what mad world will I trust someone like you? // Someone like me? You enforcers are all the same: just asshole criminals in fancy uniforms. We're here because I'm hungry. Do you know what prison food is like? No. Of course, you don't. Well, that place does look like it has bodies buried in the basement. // You don't know anything. You know what your problem is? // Please, tell me. // You expect everyone to give you what you want. What is this place? // It's where the kind of people you Topsiders don't wanna think about wind up. I know you have your reservations about me. This only works if we can learn to trust each other. // It doesn't work. It never has. You Topsiders always find a way to screw us. // I suppose Topside is to blame for all your misfortunes. // ...not all of them. // We aren't monsters, you know. We're people. Just like you. // You don't know anything about me. She makes...potions. Helps people here with...with...this. // ...shimmer. Why would you take something that does that to you? // I just...wanted to feel what it was like...to be somebody. To make other people afraid. Let's go. I think Vi would be happy to see a friendly face. // No! You...you go on ahead. She...she knew me when I was still...anyway, I don't want her to see me like this. Just tell her I'm sorry...about everything, okay? You used to live here...who's Powder? // My sister. I thought she died, but, now...I have to try and find her. // How do you know if your sister is alive or dead? // It's hard to check up on people from inside a concrete cell. // What, you don't have parents? // No! They were killed by enforcers. I knew it was a mistake trusting you! // You've been a real picnic yourself. Vi tells me I can trust you. You get a pass back Topside—that's it. ...it's beautiful. // If your people had your way, it'd be rubble and ash. // It's a misunderstanding. They think you work for Silco. // Your people hunt us! Like animals! Silco pays them to do it! // That's not possible. You're wrong. // Say that one more time. Ekko! She believes what she's saying, okay? We could beat Silco with this. // That won't solve things. // Easy for you to say! Your people aren't dying all around you! // Ekko...it's wrong what's been done to you. You'd be well within your rights to keep it. I couldn't blame you. But, if you do, the cycle of violence will never stop. This is our best shot at setting the record straight. This city needs healing—more than I ever realised.

[Whew. I actually had to rewatch several episodes just to get the dialogue IFBJKFBF]

Now, back to the topic at hand.

Let's start with the obvious. Whether explicit or implicit, all of these lines trace back to the systemic oppression being done by Piltover against the Undercity.

Vi was wary of Caitlyn in the beginning because she's an enforcer, and enforcers were the people who'd killed her parents. And it's not just that, either. Vi knew about Grayson and Vander's deal. She has witnessed both Piltie and Trencher working together to keep peace between the two cities. Yes, she'd been angry about it (reasonably so), but even then, she realised why such a thing needed to be done. She was even ready to sacrifice herself just to spare her siblings the inevitability of being the scapegoat. This implies that Vi knew there was at least a good soul out there, a sympathiser—who might yet grant her some kindness on the upside.

But then that sympathy got that very same person killed. And here, we finally know for true that good people don't survive the games of life. You don't get as far as you do in your existence without committing violence. The same also holds true for Vander: her father, who'd shifted his morals and priorities to protect his children; her father, who'd also sacrificed himself in the name of their family.

What does that show her? Being good gets you killed. Being good isn't enough.

Huck demonstrates this incredibly well. I just wanted to feel what it was like to be somebody. To make other people afraid. Prior to his reappearance in Ep6, we don't know anything about him save for the fact that he'd made deals of his own in the Undercity—but this is enough to tell us that he, like almost everyone else, is involved in some kind of illegal business. What does that say? Being good doesn't support your life. You have to tamp down the purest parts of you to be able to survive and thrive. If you're not somebody, if you're nobody, then you're worthless. You die. You're nothing. And everything you do is forgotten.

Even those in Piltover knew this. Caitlyn is a glaring example, what with the drastic shift in morals in Season 2; Cassandra is another good model (see this post of mine); Jayce had to adapt to the demands of high society, seeing and acknowledging the points made in Mel's little lessons on politics; Viktor once had to lie low in the Academy, and use subterfuge to achieve even just a fraction of his own potentials and ambitions; the list goes on.

Being good just doesn't cut it. Ekko implies this best: Vi tells me I can trust you. He's mistrustful of Caitlyn not just because she's a Topsider, not just because she's (still and admittedly) largely ignorant of the harsher realities of their cities—but because she'd've been raised on the very same ideals others she knew have also exhibited. What else does Caitlyn know but the life she lived in Piltover? What she knows as 'right' or 'wrong' is vastly different from what someone like an Undercity child would perceive as 'right' or 'wrong'—and being 'good' isn't enough, because the scales of measuring such a thing were already horridly skewed to start.

So, how does this support the idea that there's a pattern of abuse in Vi and Caitlyn's relationship?

The abuse itself starts on the political level. And this is so, because this was the basis of their relationship in the beginning. No strings attached. Get me out of this cell, and I'll give you the clues to your investigation. Lead me to this criminal, and I'll help you find your sister. I'll forget you're an enforcer for a while. I'll pretend you're not a convict yourself. We can work together. Somehow. The nature of their births had already dictated how they were to behold one another in this relationship. It will always hold a shadow over their heads. Even with the deterrent of romance mixed in, this dichotomy will persist.

OP mentions this:

Cait is Vi's only access to safety and food, she's isolated, she has to constantly prove her loyalty to Cait and renounce any ounce of lingering feelings she has towards the only family she has left, she's left in constant state of anxiety because of it.

There will always be a side to Caitlyn that would never understand how life was like for Vi, or for Ekko, or for Huck, or for Jinx, or for everyone else in the Undercity. That's not an accusation. It's just a statement of truth. Even despite the fact that Caitlyn had tried to set things right (evidenced by her efforts to convince Ekko to return the hexcrystal, and later on her talk with Cassandra to speak in favour of their case at the Council meeting), none of that matters because she herself undoes all that she worked for. All that Vi had tried making her see was for nothing.

That's where it becomes abusive. That's where their relationship, past the political layer, gets cruel on a personal level. Caitlyn, even if she didn't mean to do so and even if she doesn't realise it, had taken advantage of Vi.

You Topsiders always find a way to screw us.

Many others have said this in recent posts: it's Us versus Them.

Over the course of the first act of Season 2, we constantly see Vi in Piltover or surrounded by Piltovian individuals; which makes sense narrative-wise, but on a symbolic level also represents her isolation from all that she knew and had been built by (as a person) in her past. There's also an element of grooming present—in the same way Silco had groomed Powder into becoming Jinx. Caitlyn had slowly worn away at Vi (you can argue this as their relationship being developed, but still) and, for better or for worse (worse), trapped her into a situation where her choices leaned only in one direction and one direction only (Piltover or Zaun?).

Caitlyn abuses her power in this relationship. Whether Caitlyn herself realises this or not, whether Vi realises this or not, is irrelevant—what matters is that such a thing had happened at all. Being good fails. You can't have your cake and eat it. Caitlyn has to make the choice: her mother (Piltover), or her lover (Zaun)? Similarly, Vi does the same: her people (Zaun), or her lover (Piltover)?

You can't be good, one way or the other. It's just not enough, anymore. You have to breach something here, you have to commit an evil somewhere there—because being good gets you nowhere. Not when you're at this point of your life. Being good won't help you catch Jinx, being good won't stop the terrorist attacks from happening, being good won't bring your mother back. But being good would just make your people hate you, being good would make you a conspirator to the crimes against them, being good wouldn't sate your lover's need for vengeance.

That's where Vi and Caitlyn's relationship becomes toxic.

That's where the abuse sets in.

not to be the friend who's too woke but I genuinely feel that the only reason the fandom has such a visceral reaction to people calling Vi and Cait's situation domestic violence is because Vi is butch. yes, DV is more than just physical harm, it involves repeating patterns of abuse, all of which can be found in their relationship. Cait is Vi's only access to safety and food, she's isolated, she has to constantly prove her loyalty to Cait and renounce any ounce of lingering feelings she has towards the only family she has left, she's left in constant state of anxiety because of it.

[fairytalelover33]

One thing that will never cease to amaze me is how OVERLOOKED VI’S TRAUMA IS IN ARCANE.

Maybe it’s just the oldest daughter in me talking; But the trend I most often see in Arcane posts, rants and such, is a back and forth over Caitlin and Jinx. Who’s in the right between the two, who’s justified, who has more of a reason to grieve over their dead parent.

Vi is almost NEVER talked about when it comes to who has the right. And that is SO oldest sister of her.

She was the one old enough to properly understand what happened when their parents got killed.

She was the token older sister, always prepared to defend and take the fall for her younger siblings, hell, she was even prepared to get arrested or God knows what to protect Powder, Milo and Claggor at the age of what, 14-16?

She DID get arrested, and she was in there for about 7 years, in the darkest, dampest place she could possibly be, without sunlight, or fresh air, or ANY idea on if she would ever get out, her only hope and reason for pushing on STILL being her younger sister who also accidentally killed their entire family. WHO VI STILL LOVES AND WANTS TO PROTECT DESPITE THE FACT. And we also learn that Vi was definitely physically abused while she was stuck in that cell, (the look on her face when she hears that clunking coming down the hall proves it wasn’t an every once in a while thing.) She was literally forced to grieve alone, in the worst place imaginable, with no one to help her.

She is consistently shown blaming herself for the decisions of other people, because the over-pressured sister and daughter in her will definitely never fully grasp the fact that ITS NOT HER FAULT.

She had to come to terms with the fact that her little sister had chosen to work for and bond with the man that was responsible for the death of their father figure, and even then, after hearing the things Jinx had done, the ways she’d changed, Vi STILL tried to love her, to save her.

She was faced with a choice between her sister, and her (basically) girlfriend, and no matter how much you defend Jinx, or how much trauma she went through, or her lack of emotional maturity, none of that takes away from the pure terror of watching your sister point a gun in the face of someone you love, trying to make you ‘choose’. And then in the same moment, watching your girlfriend point a gun at your sister? Constantly being stuck in the middle of everyone you love?

Almost everyone she has ever loved either died, or completely turned on her, becoming a different person, or just straight up abandoning her.

The difference between her and the other trauma filled children of this series is that she’s not easy to pity like everyone else. She’s actually strong, and hasn’t completely lost her morals or snapped, even after everything she’s been through, so people don’t sympathize with her. She’s the token older sister, overlooked, over relied on, and villainized when she shows any sliver of fragile humanity.

(SORRY FOR MY VI RANT I JUST NEEDED TO GET THAT OUT 😔✊)

[lettre-romantiques]

6#-> 💌: a letter has arrived from satoru gojo.

dear y/n.

i’ve been selfish, y/n. so selfish. sorry for not starting it like i usually do, sweetheart, but i have to be quick with this. i never told you how much i relied on you, how much i needed you to stay by my side. you’ve seen the mask, the facade. you’ve seen me pretending to be the untouchable, invincible one. but you need to know— i’m terrified. terrified of losing everything. terrified of dying. terrified of not being able to protect you, or anyone else.

but more than that, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for every time i pushed you away. every time i made it seem like i didn’t need you when i did.

i wanted to protect you, y/n. i wanted to save you from this fate, from the pain of losing me. but now, i realize that i’m the one who’s done this. i’m the one who’s failed. i know this is gonna hurt you, which is gonna hurt me way more, even after death.

i’m sorry for all the things i said. for all the things i’ve done. but now, i don’t have time to fix it. i don’t have time to make it right. all i can do is hope that you’ll keep fighting after i’m gone. keep pushing forward. because there’s still hope. there’s still a way to stop him, even if i’m not there to see it.

i’m sorry i couldn’t protect you like i promised. i’m sorry that i didn’t love you in the right ways, didn’t give you everything you deserved. i’m sorry i never let you see some parts of me that were just satoru, not the strongest, not the guy who’s supposed to help people, not the guy who's childish and can't shut up sometimes— but the man who would’ve done ANYTHING to keep you happy.

i wish i had more time. i wish i could be with you when the world doesn’t feel like it’s crashing down. but the truth is, i know i won’t make it out of this one. i’m sorry for that, more than you’ll ever know.

and that’s the worst part, isn’t it? i never wanted you to see me like this- weak, vulnerable. it’s not something i’m good at. i never let anyone see the cracks. i should’ve told you everything. i kept you out because i didn’t want you to worry. i didn’t want you to feel like you had to carry this burden with me. but i was wrong. i should’ve let you in. i should’ve trusted you more. i should’ve let you love me the way you wanted to.

and now.. now it’s too late. you’re going to hate me for all the times i pushed you away, for all the times i acted like it didn’t matter, like you didn’t matter. but it did. you always did. i just didn’t know how to say it. didn’t know how to show you. i didn’t think i deserved to have you that close to me. but i do. and now i’m losing you. losing everything.

please don’t blame yourself. please. this is all on me. on my failure. i’ve known for a while that this was coming. i just thought i had more time. i thought maybe i could fix it. but it’s too late.

i guess that’s what i’m trying to say in this letter: i’ve made mistakes, and i’m not perfect. but i did my best. and maybe that’s all any of us can do in the end. do their best and still make mistakes.

i want you to know that i’ll be thinking of you. i wish i could’ve done more for you. i’ll be honest with you, i always thought i’d have at least a little more time. but if nothing else, know that i’m grateful for the time that i had with you. i’ve had a lot of great moments with everyone. even though i acted like i had everything figured out, you kept me grounded in a way that i never told you enough.

if i don’t make it back, keep going. keep pushing forward. i’ll be rooting for you— hell, i’ll be watching from somewhere, if there’s a "somewhere" to be. if the somewhere is in your heart, then please let me stay there.

i want you to know that i’ve always loved you. more than you’ll ever know. and i’m sorry. so fucking sorry for all the times i took you for granted, for all the times i made you think i didn’t care, when in reality, you were all i ever cared about.

don’t cry for me when i’m gone. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.

goodbye, y/n. i hope i’ll be able to send you one last letter. i love you baby, always have and always will.

p.s. i’ll always be with you, even if you can't see me. take care of yourself, y/n. that's all i ever wanted for you.. please give satoru the third a kiss for me every time you see him. that poor kitty.

[dadvans]

Tommy keeping Buck away from his daughter for 10 years is so much more cruel than anything the show has ever done 😭

(part one) (part two)

Their first day together is going so well, until halfway through their hike Mary scales a two-story high downed redwood trunk like it’s nothing.

“Holy shit,” Buck says, as her head pops out between a gap in the exposed tangle of roots and calls down to Tommy to take her picture.

“I know,” Tommy says, smiling to himself, pulling his phone out of his pocket and raising it up. “She’s always been like this. Started climbing before she even knew how to walk.”

His words land like a bucket of ice. “Oh.”

“Nearly gave me a heart attack the first time I looked away for a second and when I turned back she was halfway up my old stereo and headed for the bookcase. She—“ he turns to look at Buck and Buck’s face must give it all away, like it always has, because it shuts Tommy up real quick and he stops smiling. “I’m sorry. Should I not—?”

“No, it’s okay,” Buck replies, swallows as he watches Mary climbing on the roots now. She’s going to get a splinter, he thinks dumbly. “That’s why you guys are here, right? So I can know her.”

The night Tommy told Buck about Mary he’d said he was sorry, but he got defensive real quick when Buck had accused him of hiding a daughter from him for ten years. Had said he was protecting them all from hating each other more in the long run, because he’d known Buck would have wanted to do the right thing, but that it wouldn’t have necessarily been a good thing. Didn’t deny it when Buck had asked, if he hadn’t seen the picture of a little girl on Tommy’s phone, even with the opportunity to come clean on his own, would Tommy have said anything at all? Sounded almost angry when Buck told him that it wasn’t Tommy’s choice to make for both of them and he’d replied, curtly, “Actually, it absolutely was.”

“Right,” Tommy says. When Buck looks at him now he looks more openly shame-faced, something soft and sad in his expression. Buck viciously hopes it’s him knowing now that he was wrong— he was wrong about everything.

“Daddy, watch! Daddy, Buck, watch!”

A tendril of grief works itself loose in Buck’s stomach as he looks up again to see her swinging above both of them.

He clears his throat. “So,” he says, “how old was she? When she first started climbing.”

[evanhereonearth]

They allowed Varric, who doesn’t know the Fade except to be afraid of it, doesn’t know spirits, doesn’t know magic, doesn’t understand even that Cole is a person unless you do what was done to Solas himself and push him to irrevocably shut off his spirit self, the truest parts of Compassion—to be the narrator of this game.

I cannot think of a more unreliable narrator except maybe one of the Evanuris themselves. It’s Varric’s take. Varric’s fears driving the game, and Rook commits what I previously called the most spectacular act of canonical dumbassery (oh, a ritual with more magic than anyone has ever seen in one place when we know at its core is locking away ancient evil and it is, at most optimistic, the equivalent of a nuclear arsenal? Let’s drop a 100-tonne statue on it, that’ll make it better), effectively ends the world.

However dangerous letting the ritual go through would have been, THE BLIGHT IS WORSE.

Rook single-handedly released the most deadly and voraciously destructive biological weapon of mass destruction the world has seen since Solas locked it away to save them millennia ago.

Every. Single. Living. Being. In. Thedas. Owes. Fen’Harel. Their. Lives.

If he had not imprisoned the Evanuris, there would be no Thedas but the Blight. The destruction we see in the game in a bare few weeks??? That is evidence enough that Solas is right. This is incontrovertible. A few weeks is all it took for everything we spent decades protecting to fall.

But Varric knows better. He had to be able to get hold of the Inquisitor, right? So why didn’t he bring them?

In my worldstate, obvi a Solavellan one, I think it’s because he knew she would help Solas and keep Varric from interfering.

It’s interesting to me that we only see the effects of the ritual in Minrathous. In Tevinter, where blood magic and death and corruption and slavery have had millennia (on the back of full-scale genocide) to twist spirits into demons as well. We know that spirits reflect the world around them; of course the ones who leap through the veil when it begins to shift are a mirror of Minrathous itself.

They gave us a game where we become the bad guy in the first hour and spend the rest of the game trying to fix what we have destroyed…but they did not give us enough opportunities to be self-aware about that. And it’s not like…just a take. We literally did that.

Everything we have spent three games protecting falls.

Ferelden falls.

Orlais falls.

The Free Marches fall.

We destroyed the entirety of our world thinking we were saving it. Because we released Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, the Hinterlands will be barren with Blight again. The places where we fed the refugees, gone. Radcliffe, gone. The Exalted Plains will crumble to dust and death after a decade recovering from grotesque civil war. The Emerald Graves’ trees will topple with tendrils of blight boils and the stench of darkspawn where the Dalish once tried to hold out against genocide. Denerim, barely recovered from 9:30, fallen. Kirkwall, fallen. Val Royeaux, fallen.

Solas was right.

Solas was right.

Solas was right.

“Because every alternative was worse,” he told us. That was why he imprisoned them.

We made those alternatives come to life.

My biggest criticism of the game is this, that they spent a hundred hours showing us that Solas was right but never allowed anyone, not once, to say it. Beyond a halfhearted “we did this,” which the team immediately rejects. Rook will go forward thinking they’re a hero. At least Fen’Harel knew he was a hero whose heroism broke the world.

He’s practically the only self-aware person in the whole damn game.

Varric, Varric, Varric. You have been my friend for almost a decade, and somehow your betrayal hurts the most. We tried to show you Cole was already a person. We tried to help you not fear the Fade.

But you wouldn’t listen to Wisdom. Pride got in the way, and it wasn’t his this time. It was yours.

I am sorry. Ir abelas, lethallin.

the narrative that could have been

Having mulled over the game for a couple of days I have realised that the main problem for me is that Veilguard is good based on the premises they ultimately choose, but not based on the set up and promise of what was there before. I know this isn’t a unique take by any means and yes it’s all about the Evanuris and the Veil and Solas. 

Replaying really emphasises how incredibly little the game convinces me of its original main quest - to prevent Solas from doing his ritual. This is a problem as a long-term player because for three games we’ve had build up for a great crescendo tackling the overarching themes of the (restrictions and oppression of) magic, of tears in the Veil, of religious tyranny and oppression based on myths about the Black City and the temptations of flawed humans, we’ve seen and deconstructed the elves quite a bit, we got started on the dwarves and in DAI your Inquisitor can openly ask Solas if it wouldn’t be better if the Veil came down because then spirits wouldn’t be separated from the living and risk becoming demons. Cole, whose function is to reflect the plot, talks endlessly about the old songs wanting to be sung again, about how it hurts to be cut off from part of yourself, how the templars feel it, how the mages feel it, how the elves and the dwarves feel it. The Veil as a prerequisite for life has been deconstructed, the Fade demystified, the gods have mostly fallen. The Veil as an actual wound inflicted on this earth has been presented as a theory and not been convincingly rejected by the narrative. 

The game actually gives no explanation whatsoever as to why the Veil coming down would be worse than what Rook causes in the beginning and what the escaped gods then do to the entire Thedas. The entire south falls to the Blight because Elgar’nan and Ghilan'nain are let loose. The Wardens are more or less wiped out. There’s enormous political turmoil. The game gives us Solas saying “thousands” would die when he brought the Veil down, but that he had a host of spirits there to help. (Yes, I know, his sole function in this game is to Trick and Deceive so who is to say if he’s lying, HUH, but even so, THE ENTIRE SOUTH FALLS TO THE BLIGHT IN ROOK’S VERSION OF THINGS.)

The game puts emphasis on Solas's questionable methods and past horrors but it doesn't ever explain why his goals are despicable here and now. It doesn't convince us that tearing down the Veil with lots of safety measures in place and after considerations is a bad result, all things considered - save for Varric’s initial yelling about demons. (We even learned in DAI that the Veil itself creates demons because it restricts the passage of spirits, come on.) Because three games have suggested it's not, not ultimately. Trespasser especially nuances this, just as it nuances Solas’s view of this current world state. Right after his long nap he would have nuked it all, I’m sure, but the whole point of character arcs is that things happen in them and what happened to him is that he was shown layers and angles he had not considered and adjusted his mindset and ultimately his plan accordingly. That is where DAV should have picked it up. That's where the build up was headed. But, now he must serve the narrative solely as the God of Treachery and Lies which means that previous build up is washed away for the most part. (In no way do I think he is OOC in DAV, I just want to point that out so nobody thinks I’m a sappy fangirl or whatever. I think he is perfectly in tune with his inner Dread Wolf, but that is also all he gets to be, because of the narrative, and I’m always much more interested in when roles and personas clash.) Again. The main problem is that the narrative cannot explain why bringing down the Veil would be the worse option than the shit we see unfold on screen. Instead it gets a bit lost in the past.  And I have Issues with that, as well.  Like, the dumbing down of the war against the Evanuris. The war that started because the leaders of the rebellion - who previously had to carry out terrible orders so the Evanuris, the upper crust of the Elvhenan, could play gods - decided that the Evanuris was a threat to them all. And the game gives us what, a depiction of how the rebellion ended up crossing lines, too? No shit.

Like, I am fully on board with the individual theme of regret on Solas’s part and he ought to be wrecked with guilt but I wish the game could be less all over the place with what sort of things he ought to be wrecked with guilt over. Saying fuck you to the Evanuris is the best and brightest of his character, I suppose I just don't want it dragged down to the same level as him breaking the Titans. I suppose I would have wished for a narrative that also worked on a systemic level when depicting things like, you know, war and revolutions and subjugation. But we don't have that, because DAV is only about personal choices. The Lighthouse crew flippantly writing the hierarchical and violent power struggle off as being about love and betrayal is on my shitlist forever. 

No, Taash et al, it was not about pussy, it was about feeling compelled by superiors to commit heinous war crimes and being lied to about the actual purposes of your damn war in the first place. The elves shouting at Elgar’nan and Mythal in this painting aren’t driven by love and sex they have been lied to by their ruling class. It was never about freedom or ending the wars, it was always about Elgar’nan jerking off to ultimate godhood. The writing even suggests betrayal here is to be understood as Netflix drama betrayal, maybe some juicy porny plot but it’s ABOUT THE BETRAYAL OF THE ELVES BY THEIR OWN KIN.  ((ETA: I would have wanted my Dalish mage to be allowed to be furious, NOT WITH SOLAS, but with the fucking Evanuris for betraying her people and being so fucking vile that the only option that remained was to create a world where she's a second-class citizen. I would have wanted the game to recognize that not all causes are equal and that Elgar'nan's cause for godhood was objectively more vile than Solas's cause for freedom because as it stands now, there are some really iffy vibes of "both sides are equally bad" and other things authorities tend to say when comparing destructive regimes with uprisings.)) I’m sorry, this shit hits me on a personal and political rage level. 

I also can’t help but mourn a game where the Trickster God fulfilled his trope’s duty and shook the stagnation apart with his actions - for good or ill, the way trickster gods are wont to do - and where Rook was tricked into helping and then, a more complex game about its consequences could have unfolded. The Evanuris could still have been the bad guys, if they wanted big villains frothing at the mouth. There could still have been numerous unplanned consequences, like all of Solas's plans have. Maybe other ancients awake as well. Maybe ancient evils who aren’t elves, who knows. Point is - the Veil should have come down, at least in some form, at least in some outcome. THAT is what they've been building up to. In this game that never was, Rook could be an actual interesting character where we could mold her as either accepting of this trickster role (which fits perfectly for a blank slate with no ties) or set to overturn it and enforce status quo, with some vanilla option in the middle. Maybe the Veil doesn’t come down until the very end of the game, ancient magic takes time after all, maybe a lot has happened by then. But ultimately, Rook’s choice in the end should not have been about siding against Solas because he’s lying to you or because he did horrible things in the past or siding with him because you want him redeemed. The narrative should have provided those options either way. The narrative should have been brave enough to suggest that hey, maybe Solas isn't wrong at all - his methods maybe, but his goal, no. If they truly wanted mirrors between Rook and Solas, Rook should have tackled the issue of actively bringing down the Veil herself, not because it's a roses and sunshine-outcome but because it might very well be the lesser of two evils. Gods, that would have been interesting. It should have been a choice about what sort of world Rook and the Veilguard wants to see in the future. It should have been about the people, the world, not how angry Rook is that an ancient elf has tricked her. 

That would have been the game I wanted to play.  This story doesn't really give anything new to the world of Thedas, which a world without the Veil would have. It accomplishes closure for our favourite trickster god and bless them for that, but as for the plot and the world-building it ends on a meh because the narrative isn't about the people unless they're brought up as being endangered. This is why I can feel satisfaction regarding the thematic conclusion to certain character arcs, the trickster becomes the healer with the bloodiest hands, the wolf submits willingly to his trap and so on and so forth, and I can have fun with the characters and their arcs but also really mourn the game that was there, in subtext and build up over three previous games and in several tie-ins.

[jiminbility]

Pairing: Mingi x fem. Reader

Raiting: 18+

Word count: ~0.8k

Warnings: mean!mingi, spit, choking, reader doesn't come in this(is this a warning?), let me know if I missed something

MDI!!!

Mingi is the type of guy who loves a good and nasty blow job. He has you on your knees between his spread legs, hands tied behind your back while he pulls out his cock to stroke it infront of your face. He loves to hear your whines and whimpers as he teases you. "Look at you", he cooed. "So desperate, you want it baby?", he chuckled. You looked up to him with big eyes begging him to fuck your mouth already. Mingi smeared his pre cum on your cheek before slapping the tip on your lips, signaling you to open your mouth. You moaned at the feeling of it, licking your lower lip. You did as he told you. "Good girl", he whispered when he pushed half of his length in your mouth. You started to lick along his cock, sucking and kissing every inch you could reach. You moaned at the taste of him, the vibrations making him shudder. He stayed like this for a while slowly thrusting in your mouth. His fingers caressed your head, guiding his cock deeper inside your mouth. "Come on baby, take it all hmm?" You tried to relax your throat, taking the rest of his cock. Mingi moaned at the feeling of your wet tightness. He started to thrust in slowly, building up the pace to fully fuck your throat. Tears were starting to form in your eyes but you didn't care. All you wanted is for him to use your mouth like he desires. His pace became quicker and the moans he let out louder. You looked up to see him already looking down at you. He was biting his lips at the sight. "So fucking good baby, it's like you were meant to be my little cockslut." You whined at his words, wishing you could touch him. He chuckled when he noticed your struggle but ignored it and continued his ministrations on you. He was near his climax, thrusting a few more times before stopping fully to come deep inside your throat. A deep groan left his lips and you struggled a bit to swallow it all without choking. Tears were rolling down your cheeks when he pushed your head down to the hilt, your face touching his pelvic bone. You choked on his still hard cock inside your mouth. Mingi tried to catch his breath but he wasn't nearly done with you. He pulled your head back a bit for him to get a better view of your face. He could come right then and there at the sight between his legs. It was his own art. A flushed face with teary eyes and your spit mixed with his release leaking from your mouth. His cock was still in your hot mouth when he smirked while caressing your warm cheek. "You did so good baby", he said lovingly. You hummed at his words trying to pull away from his cock. Mingi tsked at you, still holding your head tightly. He stood up, pushing his dick deeper in your mouth while doing so. "What you think you doing? I'm not done with you yet." You whimpered at his tone, more arousal wetting your underwear, making your legs sticky. Mingi slapped your right cheek a few times before squishing both cheeks in his hand. You tried to nod but his grip on you made it impossible to do so. He pulled his cock out completely but he didn't gave you time to catch your breath. "Stick your tongue out, now". You complied his command, knowing from the tone he spoke to you that there was now way to get out of this situation. Mingi collected some spit in his mouth and let it dribble down his cock and some of it on your tongue. He smeared it on your tongue with his thumb biting his lip while doing so and enjoying the submissive state you were in. "I suggest you take a deep breath and relax your throat doll", Mingi said lowly, "because I'm just getting started". You could barely register what he said before he pushed his whole cock deep inside your mouth again, taking everything away from you to prepare yourself. You could only pray that he would show some mercy because you were on a long ride.

[jinxini]

thoughts while watching episode 2! ☆

summary: necessary amount of love for jinx, unnecessary amount of child hate lmao

oh my baby girl i love u it's ok don't be sad please

jinx focused episode let's gooo

me: omg was that a flash of powder?!

*rewinds*

me: ...who the fuck is that.

me: oh no. oh no. this kid is important enough to make it to the intro, jinx is going to take care of this child isn't she. that sure is... a choice

oh no the kid is here

ugh for me personally the only thing worse they could have done is make her pregnant or have a baby. i hate storylines like this im so sorry. it's different when the parent-child relationship is like the main focus or the premise of the show/movie (the mandalorian, the last of us, the walking dead game, silco taking care of powder who's the main character), but when a random ass child shows up years late to the party and needs someone to take care of them and the child character has no previous connection to the audience... i really dislike that in stories im so sorry. leave jinx alone

also, in what world is jinx ready to be a mother figure to anyone lmao she's very much stuck in a child-like state herself half the time. this is not what she needs, we both deserve better

i like the child's design though

honestly, i hope arcane makes me take all that i just said back, but we'll see

jinx i love you

her voice is so good, the voice acting is sooo good oh my god

does she kinda have a different vibe or is it just me?

honestly thought she would be doing a lot worse than she is. good for her!

don't get me wrong, i get that from the orphan's point of view jinx just saved her life and she's clearly super strong, what else is she supposed to do than follow

what i'm saying is that i personally do not want jinx to take care of a child right now. i want this to be about the sisters. the fact that i don't like this is on me, the writers can obviously do whatever they want with their story buuut.....

sevika<3

can't wait for her and jinx to team up

wait does sevika even know that jinx was the one who killed silco?

i don't know what's going on with viktor and whatever he's saying here is not helping

did she though?

everything viktor does now is so slow. the way he speaks, the way he moves...

im not a jayvik girlie but i imagine that those who are felt rly sad after this scene

ekko my boy! the biker mouse from mars can speak?

my brother: he really does look like one

i literally facepalmed and my brother groaned

ekko please ditch this creature you're better on your own

shut up. you're not cute, you're not funny.

i should probably clarify that heimer is my least favourite character in the show, i kinda have no patience for anything he does 😂

i literally said DO IT JAYCE out loud

this made me laugh

same, ekko, same.

can we talk about the way he's holding the cup lol

it's also kinda funny and kinda sad at the same time that this is probably his first time tasting tea

SHUT UUUUPPPP

i screamed

vi? nooo, what the hell 😫 i thought it was the bad guys after her but no it's VI? don't hurt jinx like this, don't hurt me like this

the animation is making me feel like i'm the one who can't breathe damn

hasn't my girl been through enough?? stooooppp

this looked really cool though

there's no way those were the only two times he saw her cry

also, she's insane, blinking and getting even closer. i am obsessed with her

YESSSHHHH

after getting her ass kicked by vi and jinx repeatedly in season 1, i have a feeling this is a battle she's finally going to win 😆

the whole-body movement she did here, so cute, i love her so much 😭

GET JINXED OMG!!!!!!!! 💙💙💙💙💙

holy shit you can always trust arcane with fight scenes

my brother: no one does fight scenes better than arcane.

me: i know right?! that was so good! best scene in season 2 so far!

brother: yep.

oh wow ok. girl, 1st of all, ew. 2nd of all, that thing was like 80% machine what was there left for you to eat? 3rd of all... this begs the question, what do these people eat, exactly? do they draw the line at cannibalism but everyone else is fair game? huh.

i doubt the people in piltover eat like this

no, let's not do that<3

what is he, jesus? this is a bit too much.

[impactrueno]

I saw your twt about holding back on telling stories with serious and deep tones and it reminded me of an issue I had a while back. Im a south park fan and I loved reading deep analysis of the characters. and south park being south park, people dont take it seriously and think its just funny so it doesnt deserve deep analysis like other forms of media. I always came across comments saying "its not that deep" or "doing all of that for south park" and I used to hate that so much because why are you commenting that under the authors post? In media there is like a "spectrum" of how deep you are in it as a fan, and it doesn't make you less of a fan if you like to binge watch the show when you feel like it because its funny. Someone who makes fan fiction and psychoanalyses the characters doesnt make them a better fan than you. I hate "it's not deep" because it is that deep to me, I enjoy it, but it dismisses critical thinking and discourages deep discussions about our interests. I want to learn more about the turning point for eric cartman and the friendship dynamics between the main 4. I want to read psychoanalysis of the characters and understand why they do the things they do. I loved reading fan fics with an author that understood how the characters work and put them in situations while making it believable. Whether the content was deep and serious or lighthearted and silly. I don't see those as cringe at all. What I see as cringe is trying to downplay someones time and effort. you dont care for it. cool, just dont make it our problem.

I believe in recent years, this cringe and its not that deep mentality is linked to media literacy/reading comprehension issues. On top of the fact, that fandoms right now has been "normalized", so alot of mean and rude kids and adults are in this space not having a mature and respectful conversation and discussions, as well as zero fandom etiquette. (I understand the past wasnt this magical respectful place but this behaviour has increased compared to past years).

Please don't worry about making deep content, its super fun and there will be fans of what you write/draw that will definitely be into it.

GOSH anon you are absolutely right. cringe culture has done some serious damage to people's creativity and freedom of expression. doing things in earnest is now cringe to so many people (specifically that 18-21 age where they think they're better than everyone else and everything is cringe to them, image is everything) and they actually give you shit for it?? it's crazy. the most harmless thing in the world. whenever my hey arnold comics would leave my target audience on instagram i would get the meanest comments for no fucking reason, because i was taking hey arnold "seriously" (nevermind that hey arnold is probably the nicktoon with the most emotional depth and moments besides ginger but i digress) but hey at least i'm not the one losing my marbles over some random cartoon comic on the internet.

i think rudeness in general has been too normalized not just in fandom, but in social media in general. it's sad. the only thing you can do about it is be kind as much as you can to counterbalance it. i'd like to think that rubs off on people just like how being rude rubbed off on them.

i said that thing about holding back because i'm admittedly too hard on myself sometimes. no one is calling me cringe or making fun of me for what i do, thankfully, people have been super cool and supportive. and it means a lot to me because i'm very earnest about everything i create, even when i try to hold back. i literally cannot help being myself. it's all i know how to do. i'm just glad i was able to grow a platform where i'm free to be openly passionate about the things i like, talk about them and why i like them, the little things that i find fascinating, the emotions they make me feel, all of that shit is awesome and i wish more people did that.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

I'm in love with this series!! Jay Todd, my beloved. Just, ah, the world building is so good, and the FEELINGS! Don't even get me started on the smut cause I was fr fanning my face. I talk about my fav parts below the cut!

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in.

Plsss, I'm swooning already. Love that she doesn't need the helmet to get shit done.

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before. “You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored.

Ah, I'm grinning! You can fr feel her confidence through the screen

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks. “I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

OOOHHHH!! Get him!! It's over for me. She has my heart and I'm buying her anything she wants

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds. “You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing.

!!! I've got heart eyes for this fr

Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

No notes. I love when two people are equally enthralled with each other

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway.

aw that's sweet but also only burners my girl? I worry for her lots

Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers.

I've decided that they're married, your honor. Just, ah, I love how quickly they entwine into each other lives! Just finding your person and knowing you want to be with them all the time, do everything and anything with them.

How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

Oh, it's so fine. They're absolutely just friends and there isn't anything more to it at all and they definitely don't see each other anything but platonic besties

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

I mean, I'd let her

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.” “Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress.

AHH, I'm losing it over this interaction!! and all of it done in each others arms!! INSANE!! It really shows how comfortable they are with each other. I just adore friends to lovers

Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her. Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

PLEASE! I'm drooling. Reader is better than me cause I would not have made it out of her apartment

Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure.

I actually love Jay's and Dick's sibling antics

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.” Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Misunderstanding of century!! But I am eating it up!!! Angst is my kryptonite

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor.

owwww. The heartbreak. The humiliation. I wanna sink my teeth into it

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.” “Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

GERRY! just, oww!! All of this is ow. Fr the pain reads so real and I'm devouring every line

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

Swooning. This angst is so sick and twisted (but in a good way, I swear)

“Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

CRUEL and UNUSUAL. I'll take fifteen

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced.  “These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

Plssss, chekhov's gun but it's the underwear I knew were gonna come back up. I looove it. And Jay being just as desperate has me feral!!

Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

hehe, The way I am giggling and twirling my hair

Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

I think I forgot how to blink reading this. my jaws on the ground

Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

!! They're nasty and I love them for it

“I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.” “Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

eee I'm obsessed with this!! The way I want to sink my nails into it and never let go. I looove they're dynamic fr. Sunnie you're actually feeding the Fem!Jason enjoyers soooo good 🥰💙

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 1: Unexpected Faces in Familiar Places

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay makes a new friend, now if only she could be something more... tags: sexual harrassment, threats of violence, idiots in love, flirting, swearing, sexual tension, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 4.7k a/n: enjoy! i've been having a really shitty week (even before the election) so i scrapped my original intention to only post once it was fully written and decided to just share this with you all

Jay Todd has the shittiest day to cap off the shittiest week in what feels like forever. Her ribs ache from a hit on Monday that’s still not fully right and she spent most of the day chasing down one of her accountants that had the sheer fucking nerve to try and steal from under her nose. Her knuckles are bloody, she’s on the verge of a stress headache, and all she wants is to drink her goddamn drink in peace. Apparently that’s too much to ask for because she gets a call from Cala down at one of her bars about out of towners harassing the guests and now that just won’t do at all.

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in. Zeroes in on the two chucklefucks have that cornered a poor girl sitting at the bar. Notes the way she’s hunched over and pulling down the hem of her skirt to hide her skin from lecherous eyes. Cala buzzes around the scene trying to divert their attention away from poor little miss unlucky but it doesn’t work.

“–m not alone,” Jay hears you say as she strides towards the bar. “I’m waiting on a friend.” 

“That so,” the taller of the two men leer. “Well she can just join us too. Plenty of room for more.” The shorter man makes a crude gesture at his crotch and Jay sees red.

“There you are!” She calls out, shoulders past the men without even acknowledging their presence. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a real bitch. Did you already order our drinks yet?” You look up at Jay with gratitude and something suspiciously like tears shining in your eyes. Fuck. You’re pretty.

“No I– I didn’t know if you were planning on driving so I just waited,” you play along. 

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before.

“You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored. The man’s face starts to go a horrible shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair.

“So you think you can just butt into a private conversation, bitch?” He snarls, spittle flying.

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks.

“I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

He opens his mouth to respond, vein pulsing in his forehead but the cock of a shotgun stops him. Cala, blessed Cala, had finally had the distraction she needed to grab the shot gun from under the bar and she is using it to maximum effect.

“Out!” She thunders, waving the shotgun in the men’s faces. “Out and don’t you ever come back. This is one of the Hood’s bars, we’re under her protection and there’s gonna be hell to pay for this.”

Enraged the larger one goes to yell back but the shorter one grabs at his shoulder. Whispers at him to look around at all the hostile faces, the other regulars getting to their feet and cracking their knuckles. Tails between their legs the two nuisances scamper out.

Jay nods at Cala and she calls out “Next round’s on the house!” to the cheers of the room.

Job taken care of, Jay goes to leave when a hand around her wrist, just catching her under the hem of her jacket, freezes her in place.

“Wait!” you call. She turns to look at you properly, the wobble of your lip and the shortness of your skirt from where you’re no longer tugging it down. “Please? I just– I’m worried they’ll be waiting outside for me. I was supposed to meet a date here but they bailed on me and now I have to wait for the next bus to come. Would you stay with me for a bit? Please? I’ll– I’ll buy you a drink for the inconvenience.” And well, Jay always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

“Sure,” she says, slinging herself lazily back into the bar chair. “It’s no inconvenience but I’ll take that drink. Whoever he is, he’s gotta be mad for standing a pretty girl like you up.”

“Oh um,” you fluster at her words. “Thanks?”

Cala sets down Jay’s usual order for when she’s driving in front of her and refills your drink. Waves off your fumbling with your wallet with a “It’s on the house, chérie. Our apology for the bad night. Besides,”  she nods at Jay “the Boss Lady would not let you pay if you tried.”

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds.

“You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing. “Just needed a little help, that’s all. Now my name’s Jay and I own this little establishment. Why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself too?”

You stutter and start through your own self-introduction, mascara long eyelashes fluttering at all the attention. Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Getting you to talk about yourself seems to work though, familiar territory slowly evening you out. You’re surprisingly witty when you’re not flustered, someone fun to have a conversation over beer with. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

A stray notification catches your attention, interrupts your story about how this bar wasn’t even in your bottom five. You roll your eyes at the sender name.

“Jerry,” you answer Jay’s inquisitive look. “Apologizing for standing me up, for all the good that’ll do.” With a flourish you tap at your screen, smile and say “Blocked.”

Jay can feel the corners of her eyes crinkle up in return, simple joy and approval for you cutting the trash out of your life. Not that she’s really entitled to an opinion on it. Your smile lasts a half second longer before suddenly descending into panicking, fumbling out your phone and chanting no no no under your breath.

“I missed the last bus,” you breathe out, eyes wide. Jay’s brain stutters at that, there’s no way you’ve been talking together for four hours. Cala catches her eye and jerks her head up at the big clock hanging over the bar. Fuck. It really has been four hours.

Jay knocks back the last of her beer and stands, extends a hand out to you to help you hop off the bar stool that’s just the wrong side of too tall. Even in your heels Jay’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“C’mon,” she says. “It’s my fault you were out so late, I’ll give you a ride home.”

She leads you outside to where her bike is parked, your palm still in hers.

“I don’t have an extra helmet so you just take mine okay?” She says, putting it on you.

“We’re– we’re going on that?” you squeak out, surprise rendering you docile.

“Yep,” she answers, already straddling the bike, thighs flexing. “Hop on and hold on tight.”

Jay more feels than hears your scream as she revs the engine and takes off, corners maybe just a little too fast to be anything other than showing off. Too soon she pulls up at your front door and already she mourns the feeling of your arms wrapped around her middle. She gives you a hand to help you off the bike again and nearly buckles at the brief glimpse of the black unlined lace panties she sees under your skirt as you swing your leg over the bike. The two of you stand there facing each other, moment stretching out until a car backfires a few blocks over.

“Well, I guess I should get going, “ Jay tells you reluctantly.

“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway. Grinning, you see her off into the night, taillights dissolving into darkness.

Jay calls first, asks about coffee with too much casualness in her voice. Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers. Bitches with you about assholes at work – not that she gives you the full story – and bemoaning the state of customer affairs. Makes you dinner at her apartment and makes a spot for herself on your couch. Worms her way into every corner of your life without regret because you’d tell her if her presence was unwanted. Right?

Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl. Dick teases her about how far she’s willing to bend over backwards for ‘just a friend’ and Jay has to show her teeth and snap back that at least she has some. Has to cover up for the fact that her sanity is hanging by a goddamn thread thinner than that single string that had tied the open sides of your top together that one afternoon, revealing bare skin and the hint of a breast if you leaned just right. The way she almost walked into a wall when she realized you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place. How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

A gala invitation has Jay wishing she could shoot lasers with her eyes and incinerate it. Her eye twitches with annoyance and you snatch it up out of her hands before she can stop you.

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

“A stupid one,” she answers, not really paying attention.

“But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.

Even with your whining and pouting, Jay can’t help but think she’d still have a better time at the gala with you by her side to distract her from pointed glances and whispers. She sighs. Wait.

“There’s a plus one on that invite,” she tells you nonchalantly, studying your face in her peripheral vision. “You could come if you want, get all dressed up too.”

You stiffen at the question. “You really mean it?” you whisper, hardly daring to breathe.

“Course, but only if you want to,” she offers. You squeal, clutch the envelope to your chest and tackle her.

“It’s short so I’ll probably have to rent a dress and oooh I need to think about makeup, maybe a bold lip? Oh! And I can have another excuse to wear the Jimmy Choos...” you babble in her arms.

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.”

“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress. You prance around the room pulling down dishes for dinner and Jay sighs, melts back into the couch cushions as she listens to you chatter a mile a minute about how excited you are.

Jay’s really, really regretting her impulsivity by the time the gala rolls around a few days later. In all her excitement about not going alone for once, she’d forgotten that this meant she’d be going with you. With you, all dolled up and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

You knock at her door earlier than she’d expected from you when a fancy event is involved and has to do her very best not to drop her jaw on the floor. Gorgeous green silk pools around your breasts in a daring cowl neck, the fabric clinging to your curves, draped to exaggerate them. Skims the plush sides of your hips before falling straight to the floor, a daring slit revealing the warm bare skin of your leg ending in those heaven sent Jimmy Choos. Jay stares, knows she stares for a beat too long but there is quite literally no force on earth that could tear her away. You start to squirm under her attention, still standing half in her doorway.

“That bad, is it?” You laugh self consciously, start to cover your cleavage with your hands. “I knew it was too much.”

“No, no it’s just enough,” she rasps, standing back to let you in. You brush past her so close she can smell your perfume, can tell you’d broken out your special occasions scent in the nice glass bottle. “I just need to fix my tie and do my hair and then we can go.”

“Do you need the tie?” You hum, stepping into her space. Grabbing a hold of one of the loose ends, you tug it out from where it’s tucked under her collar and drape it over the couch. Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her.

Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

“Can I do your hair too?” You ask shyly.

“Don’t see why not, I was just going to do a ponytail,” Jay shrugs. Delighted you push her down onto the couch and start pulling bobby pins out of your purse. “Wait did you plan this?” She asks.

“A girl should always be prepared for the best outcome,” you tell her primly as you stand behind her and finger comb her riotous hair.

Quickly you separate out a deep side part and Jay memorizes the feeling of your hands in her hair. Hands twisting and pinning, you’re done in only a few minutes, handing her the little mirror out of your clutch to admire your work. Softly Jay touches your work, the way you’ve slicked back one side of her hair and made the waving curly mess look artistic and purposeful.

“Thank you,” she says, making eye contact with you in the mirror. She means it, means it for more than just fixing her hair but for everything else you’ve done since stumbling into her bar and her life all those months ago.

“It’s nothing,” you tell her, hands suddenly occupied with the mechanism of your purse. “We should probably get going, right?”

Jay drives the two of you to the venue in a really nice car you’ve never seen before. She waves away your questions with a tight, “My dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” She parks at the end of the red carpet and the doors haven’t even opened yet but you can already see the camera lights flashing. You look at her, suddenly nervous because you’d vastly underestimated how important this event was. She turns to you and smiles, grips your hand over the car console.

“Hey,” she says, all softness. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I’ll head off the vultures, you just hold onto me and enjoy the canapes, okay?”

You nod, and then suddenly she’s opening up your door, hand extended to help you out. The lights are blinding, flashing so fast the afterburn never gets any time to dissipate. Pasting on a smile you cling to Jay’s strong arm, rock solid even under all her suit layers. Paps shout and scream at you to look their way and you can barely hear them over one another.

Eventually the two of you make it through the front doors of the hotel and you gasp like you’ve been drowning. Rubbing your shoulders Jay moves to cover you, cuts off the private moment from prying eyes that seek and skitter.

“Is it always like that?” You gasp. Fighting to regain your balance.

“Unfortunately,” she says with a rueful smile. “But that’s the worst of it over, now we can really enjoy the night.” Gallantly she offers you her arm and you accept it gratefully, her elbow brushing up against the swell of your breast as you walk.

She introduces you to the night’s hosts – her family – with a whispered apology in your ear. Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure. She doesn’t know what possesses her to, but she wraps a proprietary arm around the small of your back as she steers you around the room. Helps you to crystal flutes of champagne that make your nose twitch at the carbonation and warns you off the most disgusting canapes.

Jay has just chased down the waiter carrying the mushroom and cheese quiche bites you’d fast declared your favourite when the two of you get roped into a very stilted conversation with some of the fat cats the Waynes are currently trying to drain dry, for charitable reasons of course. She’s tuned out the conversation while she piles all the best looking bites onto a plate for you, horrifically uninterested in whatever Mr. Harold J. Carson, esquire had to say about the Texan economy. She cottons on to something being wrong as your hands tense up around her arm and your laugh gets ever more brittle.

“That’s a very kind offer Mr. Carson–”

“Harold, please,” the great mustached walrus harumphs.

“–Mr. Carson,” you bravely soldier on. “But I’m here on a date and I hope you’re not implying that I’m the type of woman to two-time someone.”

He turns an ugly shade of puce and sputters at the implication, society matrons chuckling behind their glasses at his terrible blunder. Sensing an opportunity, Jay grabs you by the arm and starts leading you away.

“I do think our presence is needed by my family elsewhere,” she says, vowels Diamond District clipped. Her grip around your fingers is strong, tighter than it’s ever been as she leads you down a hallway and into an unused meeting room. Her breaths are coming heavy as she drops your arm like she’s been burned, deposits the plate on the empty table. Jay knows if she speaks now, her voice will shake and she will not have that. FUCK. Fuck, she was supposed to have this under control by now. She’s not your keeper, she’s not gonna stand between you and happiness but fuck it hurts to be used like a ticket into someone else’s bed.

“Jay,” you ask cautiously. “Are you okay? I really wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, I’m telling the truth, promise.”

“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.

“But you invited me,” you answer her, voice trailing off in confusion.

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.”

Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Jay has to stop pacing because wait what.

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question. 

“We met because my date stood me up!” you exclaim.

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.”

“Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

“Oh,” she says stupidly, suddenly forced to re-contextualize her entire life for the past few months. You dash an angry hand at your tear eyes and turn to go.

“It was my mistake,” you tell her voice thick with emotion.

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

“Oh sweetheart,” she croons and you shudder. “Bet you’ve been feeling like I’ve been treating your real raw lately.” She cups your face in her hand, smoothes her thumb over the high plain of your cheekbone. “Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

“We were– we were supposed to dance,” you confess, head falling back against the door. 

“We can still do that,” she says, curling her fingers into your hair and pulling. She grins at your swift inhale.

“We were gonna dance an’ then, then you were gonna take me home.” You breathe out, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Was that it baby girl?” She asks. “Playing it a little safe for your one night fantasy, weren’t you?” Jay lets go of your wrist to rest her hand on your shoulder, large hand pressing down on your collarbone.

“Was gonna kiss you goodnight,” you whimper, shivers running across your skin. Slowly, so slowly you can make out the ticking seconds hand of the big clock on the wall, Jay leans in and carefully slots her mouth down over yours. Sucks gently on your bottom lip before releasing it with a sigh.

“Like that?” Jay asks. “You were just hoping for a sweet little kiss on the mouth?” Her own breathing is ragged.

“No–o,” you gasp. “Was hoping– was hoping you’d kiss a little lower too.”

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced. 

“These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

“They’re my– my lucky date underwear,” you gasp into the air. 

“And you were hoping to get lucky tonight, weren’t you baby girl?” She coos up at you.

Biting your lip, you nod. Jay sets about tearing your underwear to pieces with her teeth. Your thighs tremble around her ears and she slams your hips back down against the door. Spreads your lips open with calloused fingers, presses a light kiss to your clit in greeting before she starts making out with your pussy. You howl and sag, trusting her to take the full weight of you as your knees turn to jelly.

Jay eats you out with enthusiasm and she eats you out with experience. Does this thing with the slick thrusting muscle of her tongue that has you gasping and begging for more. Can feel the heel of your shoe digging into her back, urging her own, begging her to fuck you harder. Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

Sucks your clit, hard, just a hint of teeth as she spears you open on a thick finger. Twists and curls it against your slick wet walls, lets herself affectionately get acquainted with your cunt. Scissors you open with two fingers just to watch your head bang back against the door, eyes shut and tears streaming down your face. Sets an uneven rhythm with her fingers and tongue that has you moaning and trying to ride her face for more. Finger fucks you with wet, squelching vigour as you quiver and shake, walls tightening up as you careen towards climax. Starts putting pressure on your rim with a third finger just to tip you over the edge of it all, pleasure making you stupid. Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

Gently, she takes your trembling thigh off her shoulder and places it back onto the ground. Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

“Hoping for a little something like that, honey?” She teases.

Vigorously you nod, head bouncing back and forth like a bobblehead, words still fucked out of your brain. She holds out a hand to you – not the one that’s just been buried knuckle deep inside you – and clasps your hand in her own.

“C’mon, let’s go home then,” she tells you airily, leading you back through the maze of the building.

“But what about the party?” you ask, mascara still smeared around your eyes.

“I don’t care,” Jay bites out. “I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.”

“Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

“Good,” Jay smirks. “Because it wasn’t a question.”

series masterlist | part 2

[hunter470]

Here’s my imagination having fun.

TM: Let’s break up Buck and Tommy and make it really hurt. It’s gonna be great.

Writers: But, Tim, this doesn’t make sense. We’ve been laying the foundation for a long-term healthy relationship for Buck. You even brought Tommy back because of all the connections he had with the 118. You wanted Buck’s love interest to be connected so they wouldn’t be off on an island. This just feels like it’s coming out of left field.

TM: True, but I keep getting texts from Oliver and he wants “Buck to f**k” and I think that would be fun. I mean, he’s newly bi so he should sleep around with a bunch of people before finding the one. We can have a lot of fun with that. Just think of the possibilities.

Writers: But that goes against all the character development we’ve done for Buck over the last seven seasons. We wanted him off the hamster wheel and to get into a long term relationship. Plus, aren’t you being a bit biphobic with your statement?

TM: Nope, I like Oliver’s idea so let’s do that. Oh, and make Tommy the bad guy and don’t let any of the other characters encourage him to talk to Tommy. We can have fun with that…maybe have Buck baking to get over him or he wants to call Tommy and Eddie steals his phone. Yeah, I like that. Use it.

Writers: Are you sure? We’re gonna get a lot of pushback from the audience. We’ve all seen the overwhelmingly positive response the Buck and Tommy relationship has gotten online.

TM: That may be true, but because the audience is so invested in the relationship, it just makes it more fun when we break them up. Remember, based on our ratings, the audience will watch whatever we put out there. Besides, Tommy’s just a side character so they won’t care. They only care about Buck. Oh, and I wrote a whole scene about Tommy being engaged to Abby. Make sure to work it in. It’s genius.

Writers: Abby? As in the Abby Buck dated? That doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t fit the timeline or the previous episodes’ narrative. So, Abby was engaged to a firefighter from the 118 and then dates another firefighter from the 118 and what, it just slipped her mind? Seems like a bit of a stretch. Also, why didn’t Tommy tell anyone he worked with at the 118 that he was engaged? Wouldn’t that have helped him stay hidden from his team? Kept his secret safe?

TM: It doesn’t matter. Just retcon the timeline or ignore the timeline altogether. It’s not like anyone will notice. The audience doesn’t pay that close attention. Plus, they’ll be too upset over the breakup to care. It’s just such a great idea that I got from the fans who sent me that red string theory video. They’ll love the fact that I used it.

Writers: We’ve seen the video but that was to show how Buck and Tommy are meant to be together and not to cause problems. Won’t that upset people?

TM: I doubt it. They’ll just feel acknowledged that I used it and be grateful. The audience loves everything I do. Remember, these are the viewers who loved a bee-nado and my obvious ripoff on a 1975 airplane disaster movie. They even bought a 66 year old police sergeant and a 10 year old boy landing a heavily damaged plane on an active freeway in LA. So, it’s not like they expect reality in our stories.

One day after episode 6 airs…

ABC Executive: Tim, have you seen the number of saddened and upset viewers commenting on social media about last night’s episode?

TM: It’s amazing, right? I knew people would love it! We’re doing great things over there. You can expect this level of storytelling for the spinoff. You’re gonna love it!

Executive: I’m afraid you didn’t hear me. People are upset and saying they’ll stop watching the show. We’re even getting hundreds of feedback messages on the ABC site. People are not happy. How are you going to fix this?

TM: Don’t worry. People won’t stop watching. They’re all lemmings and love everything I write. Anyway, it will all blow over after the next episode. I threw in some Tommy crumbs that will make viewers think he’s coming back, which they’ll live off of and keep watching. Oh, and if that’s not enough, we have a scene with Buck and Jee baking that is so cute they’ll forget all about being upset over the breakup. Cute kids are the answer to everything.

Executive: 🤦🏻‍♂️

[aceingonthecake]

Good Omens Rant!!!

(And a pretty long one too)

I swear, if I read another comment about how stupid Aziraphale's final decision was and how some people hope they'll be CrAwLiNg BaCk To Crowley and beg for forgiveness, I'll fight them (verbally, no violence here).

I get that in the final 15 Aziraphale could have worded some things better, but the same can be said for Crowley, plus, that's beside the point. THE point is that there was no wrong or right choice in that situation.

Crowley has every right not to want to go back to Heaven and I'm very happy they stood by their decision. However, Aziraphale has the exact same right to make their own choice and try and make Heaven what it's supposed to be.

They're not stupid and they're not naive, we literally watched their character grow more and more conscious of Heaven's toxicity and we watched them defile it with the means they had. Now, they're offered a position to try and change things from the inside and to protect Earth, the same Earth they fought for in s1. Aziraphale knows the other Archangels and the Metatron are against them, but there are other angels up there. We saw Muriel and we all found them adorable. How many other angels like them are there in Heaven? Are they not worth trying to change the system for? And do we really expect Aziraphale to pass up an opportunity to protect like that? Please.

I absolutely get we all wanted a happy ending and a romantic getaway like Crowley suggested. But if we think about it, how realistic is it? Let's say Aziraphale accepted and went away with Crowley. Heaven would have moved on with the second coming and Earth would be destroyed. What was the point of s1 then? Did they fight then just to give up later? No, they fought because their love was born and grew on Earth and they're too fond of it and its humans to let it be destroyed. What would they do in Alpha Centauri? With no books, no plants, no food, no music, no car and so on? It would be just them and eternity. Not so tempting, mh?

And finally, while I see a whole lot of people analysing every single word Aziraphale said (and some of them were wrong, I have no problem admitting it), I don't see them do the same for Crowley.

I love Crowley, I relate to them a lot, but some things they said in the final 15 didn't sit too well with me. They got mad and, while I know it was out of heartbreak and fear, in the end they downright said that Aziraphale is not able to make choices. That they don't understand enough to make them consciously. That they're an idiot just because they made a decision Crowley doesn't agree with. And I repeat, I KNOW it comes from a place of protection and love, but that doesn't make it right.

They both said things that have been totally misunderstood by the other and that's on them. But I love them both and all I want for the final is for them to be together and happy. I just really can't understand how someone might watch this show and hate Aziraphale, like they didn't understand their character at all. And let me tell you, I strongly doubt Crowley would appreciate such mean comments on their angel.

With that, I'm done. Sorry for the length of my rant. These are actually just some of my thoughts on everything that happened, but I believe it's quite enough for a single post 😅.

[sunny-knight]

Oh right. The other one.

CW: Undertale rant/analysis

Ive played Undertale- hundreds of times. and lately ive reflected on how the game is supposed to make you feel IN THE MOMENT- since ive kinda forgotten a lot of that. Because of the aforementioned ✨“hundreds of times”✨

Everything ofc still feels just as captivating, but nothings surprising because im not playing it from the perspective of someone who has absolutely no idea whats going to happen next. Sometimes I overlook and forget how the little details are supposed to make you feel/think about the characters. Like how Undyne is implied to be an abusive boss. After you get to know her, then replay, you hear how Papyrus talks about her at first, and see their interaction as you enter Waterfall, and you completely understand!

But BEFORE- youre like “oooohhh she’s threatening him-“

On this topic, I rewatched some playthroughs, and saw their first reactions to geno papyrus death, and I realized. that this room placement. IS SO COOL!!!!

Normally its like- yep! I just befriended/beat papyrus, time to continue on my way- oo hi sans! sure, ill go to Grillbys with you! Even on replays, you’re not really excepting him in any room hes in, im just like “oh yep, theres the man.”

But when you kill Papyrus for the first time, usually on a geno route. That same thing kicks in. You’re not predicting him to be there cause youre focused on the room youre in currently, but when you GET THERE youre like “oh yeah and thats where Sans is” but he’s NOT THERE and you stop for a millisecond and go “oh, no yeah, that makes sense.”

…the silence doesn’t help either.

Its worse that he’s all over the underground too, not just in the start of Waterfall. Even not seeing him in front of the mtt resort is just a slap in the face 😭

If youve gotten to the phase of killing people on purpose to see what will happen, youve also gotten to the phase of KNOWING theres gonna be consequences, so Sans not being there shoudnt hit as hard as it does BUT IT DOES (at least for me)

The typical reactions to Monster death in general that you cant avoid are Undyne and Sans’ speeches, and neutral run phonecalls. DIALOGUE. things that appear because of what you did. But with Sans its not what he does or says (up until the judgment hall) its what he doesn’t do.

He doesn’t bother to show up, to say anything to you because what is there to say??? Ignoring how personal it is for a sec- Sans knows this isnt your first time playing, but doesn’t comment on it (much). Right now he still believes the anomaly just wants to be happy, so gives the benefit of the doubt.

That is until you kill the dude that is impossible to kill on accident, or argue in self defense.

Now Sans knows the anomaly just wants to know what will happen. Doesn’t care if its bad or not, they’re just curious, so theres no point.

STILL he wants them to reset and do something ELSE so he halfway pleads with them in the judgment hall to rethink what they’ve done. The fact that he asks an answerable question feels important to me, like hes searching for something, ANY reason. But maybe hes trying to make you see that- there was no reason. Youre DUMB and you should RESET because- WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THIS????

What I also find really powerful even on replays, is the silence after he drops lines like this. Especially the judgment hall question. Sometimes I do sit there and soak in the silence like- “jesus. Yeah, why DID i do that?”

My main point of this entire thing is, I LOVE this game, I LOVE Papyrus and his impact on the game even when he isnt there, and I wish I could play it for the first time again, and fall in love with it all over again, but alas, hitting myself with a rock to screw up my memory only works 17% of the time,

so im happy enough sticking with changing my perspective, and taking a moment to remember what it felt like to accidentally kill toriel and realize your actions have consequences, to beat Undyne the Undying, to hug Asriel, to hear that Undertale was getting a “sequel”, and to hear that dreaded line, “Then why did you kill my brother.” all for the first time again.

[erasinglines]

although he hadn't expected this, coming here tonight, now that they're here, like this, he doesn't think there's ever been a better place for them to end up. it reminds him of the invisible string that's always bound them to one another, that's transcended time and distance, always a tug, that pulls them back together— and like a moth drawn to the flame, he returns, each and every time. and he's glad he has, now, with their bodies flush, when she's looking up at him like that, taking in the curve of her smile, drinking in her features, up this close; something he's never forgotten, no, but something he appreciates, being able to reacquaint himself with her. soon, he can feel his own features mirroring the look on hers, a soft smile, one that's only ever been reserved for her, nestling against his lips as she echoes his words back to him. every fiber of his being feels alive, rekindled by the spark that never truly died between them, as though the very essence of him has been revived in her presence, the flame of their loved never truly extinguished, merely smoldering in the background of their lives. he closes his eyes, as she finishes with the buttons on his shirt, as the barrier of the material falls away, savouring the sensation of the tender kisses she presses against his flesh. perfect wasn't a title he's ever felt worthy of, not when he's made so many mistakes, especially when it's come to them, to her, but he tries to believe it, allows himself to, right now, at least, being in her comfort, the place he's always belonged. breath hitches, the further her fingers explore, and his heart swells simultaneously, as she speaks of her appreciation for him. outside of here, he’d shrug it off, remind her that’s just what they do for one another, what they’ve always done, since they first came into each other’s lives. but here, he wants her to know that he doesn’t take it for granted, this time with her, that he wants it just as badly. “ of course i would. it’s… you, you know? i’d do anything for you, ” even if so much has changed between them, that sentiment never will. and it’s as if the words are ripped directly from his chest, authentic and raw. “ would go anywhere for you— you’re… everything to me, dev. ” and for tonight, at least, she was all his. as the words leave his lips, it all clicks into place for him; this night they had, as one. decides that he doesn’t want to wait any longer, then, the hand at her back tracing gently along her spine, until it reaches her shoulders, his free hand coming to join, so he can slip the straps of her dress off of each. leaning forward, he presses his lips to her skin, a gentle kiss, before he allows himself to do the same along the curve of her neck, her jaw, finding his way back to her lips. feels lucky that she meets him there, and he returns the kiss just as fervently, his tongue tangling with hers in a silent confession of his own longing; their bodies aligned, hearts echoing each other’s rhythms. his hand comes to rest atop of hers, at the button of his pants, not to stop her, but just to pause, lips breaking away from hers to let out a breathy chuckle. “ help me get you out of yours first, ” he whispers, fingers already trying to find the zipper on her dress. “ otherwise, we’re totally uneven and i just… god, need to touch you, to make you feel good, to know that this is real, ” to make it better than his imagination, all that he’s thought of, over the years. his own pleasure is heightened from her own, anyway. “ want to congratulate you for tonight, really… show you how proud i am of you, how much i’ve missed you. ”

safe to say she didn’t expect this, upon seeing him earlier— of course, she felt that same buzz of attraction at first sight, spending half the night wishing to have their lips intertwined just like they were now, but she held no expectation that this would happen, that they would end up like this, undoing each and every button of his shirt in the bedroom they once shared. she’s been desperately trying to ignore it, especially since they couldn’t, but it’s always present— that need for him, that desire to be close. this was inevitable, she thinks; they couldn’t ever deny it for long. electricity blooms beneath his touch against her back, the current flowing all the way to where his hand rests. it pools there, as he tugs her against him, attempting to stifle a sigh as her own hips press further into him, too, seeking contiguity, closeness. only craves it further at his affirmation, hearing him call her perfect— a word she would never associate with herself, but wants to believe, when it comes from him. it causes a soft smile to tug at her cheeks as she looks up at him, gaze overflowing with tenderness as it travels across his features, to all the pieces of him she missed so much. god, she missed everything about him. every single fucking thing. that’s why she’s holding on so tightly, now, taking her time— she couldn’t bear to think about saying goodbye, to be forced to wait such a long time to see him in person again. so she won’t, instead focusing on finishing the last of the buttons of his shirt, fingers sliding beneath it to pull it off his frame. wastes no time in exploring the newly exposed flesh as fingertips graze along his sides, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his clavicle, lips trailing across the bone. “ fuck, that’s what i was gonna say, ” she teases, muttering the words between kisses. “ you really are, though, ” a beat passes, only to press a tender kiss to the spot on his chest where she imagines his heart might be located. “ so perfect. ” in every single way, in every sense of the word. there would never be anyone better, in her eyes. tilts her head up to look at him, then, as her fingers move down his stomach, towards the waistband of his pants. her gaze is filled with nothing but admiration, with love— honestly, part of her thinks she could cry, right now, with all she feels for him. “ i still can’t believe you came all this way for me, for one night, ” she murmurs, teeth sinking into her lower lip for a moment, trying to contain all that swells inside her. “ i think that’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me. ” and he’s always been there, from the very beginning, it seems, supporting her, encouraging her, believing in her, even when her own family didn’t, even when she didn’t, herself. she doesn’t know how she could ever repay him for that, but she’ll try, for the rest of her life. lips ache to return to his, suddenly, and she doesn’t waste another second before she’s kissing him, again, albeit a little more fervently, this time, tongue slipping into his mouth, uttering a soft sigh as needy, shaky, digits begin to work at the button of his pants. “ want to show you how much it means to me, how much i appreciate it, you, ” she breathes, practically panting against him. “ i want you so fucking bad, miller. ”

[roseadleyn]

Lidia‘s SA was handled even worse. Sjm would have lidia fuck Ruhn in mind at the same time she’s getting SA‘ed by her ex. Lidia never received proper time to heal from that sh*t. The moment Ruhnlidia made up in the third book they had mf sex.

Nesta had sex with Cassian right after getting SA‘ed by that weirdo kelpie from the lake, and that other time when Lanthys made her see that vision in which he SA‘ed her too. The SA from Tomas was also never properly acknowledged.

At least Gwyn had 2 years to recover. Most SA survivors in her books don’t receive much time to at least process it all before fucking. You’re telling me Rhys is all cool with going down on Feyre after 50 years of SA? Feyre can easily forget the sh*t Rhys did to her utm? Great.

If Gwynriel is canon, Sjm will most definitely fuck up her trauma like she always does.

Sjm: „Oh you were touched against your will?“

Sjm: „Here have a cock. That will heal you quickly!“

Worst of all is that the sex is always so… rough? Specifically for Nesta. At least worship her and make her feel safe instead of dicking her down like she‘s a good one night stand. Poor girl.

ya i'm just realizing that gwyn is at least not as bad as nesta or feyre or lucien or rhys or lidia. i haven't read any other sjm books but i know abt lidia and that's insane 😭 it's like she doesn't know how to write intimacy. it's like she thinks emotional connections only exist in sex.

it was insane how feyre only rescued lucien from being raped because she remembered her darling rhys and not because lucien is her first friend and also it's just the MORAL THING TO DO

( also why is it that everytime a couple fights in sjm's novels, they always have sex when they make up? i get that angry makeup sex is soo hot etc but like can no one have a conversation? can she not show how sometimes issues are talked out not fucked out? )

do NOT i hate how she wrote nesta i hate everything abt it. nesta was assaulted by tomas and when he found out he restrained her against the wall??? in the same manner tomas would have?? also i'm never going to forget how cassian tugged at the skirts of her dress and asked her 'what're you hiding under all this anyways?' without her consent, during a time in which they didn't like each other, and he was there on diplomatic purposes.

and i just checked but literally RIGHT after she was sa-ed by the kelpie, cassian not only had sex with her but he left her without any aftercare. bed still warm. rough sex as if she's a one night stand. she's sexually assaulted and then left wondering if cassian was 'punishing' her by leaving immediately. ugh i despise him i hate him.

and rhys? he literally has one (1) traumatic flashback to his trauma and whoop that's it yall we're done. and feyre wearing the same clothes she was wearing when she got assaulted for rhys, even though rhys was the one who assaulted her.

it pushes an extremely unhealthy narrative. very young girls (literally 15-16 year olds) read these books and they'll think these toxic, unrealistic, unhealthy dynamics are normal. it's so concerning and i hate the entire genre of dark romance for it but that's a story for some other angry rant

i hate the rough jackhammering sex. i fear she's gonna do the same shit with elain and lucien (😭). nesta deserves to be worshipped and praised and then given plenty of aftercare free my girlll

( for acotar stans who for some reason go into anti tags: do not interact u will be BLOCKED !!! okay bye 💋 )