#to be clear he has NOT said or insinuated those things

[becomingkatie]

I went down to Brevard a few weeks ago to visit my mom. She's taken up pottery and arranged for me to have a lesson at her studio. It was a really nice visit overall - I love love that area and I hadn't seen her place since she moved there a year or so ago.

Ken and I have become recluses since covid. We got used to not going out, and now going out feels overwhelming and hard, especially for him. I'm going a bit crazy feeling like we don't go places and do things. There's a bowling alley near our place - like so close I pass by it any time I go out for a walk basically. I've been saying for ages that we should go, and Ken grumbles and grumbles because he doesn't want to. After a week where I basically had a breakdown in tears of "I can't keep living like this," we went bowling. Surprise, surprise - he had a great time. I hurt my wrist. But it was still fun!

My birthday was last Friday and Ken made this espresso chocolate chip cake (recipe is Sally's Baking Addiction) and it is sooo tasty.

Aaand writing this post out I feel my throat squeezing and eyes burning. I feel like there's some crying to be done. I just don't feel happy lately. I'm not happy with the life we've fallen into, and I'm just having a rough time. I discontinued my anti-depressants maybe a month ago, and I feel good about that decision. I don't feel depressed - I am sad and frustrated with some specific things, but not generally like "I can't get up and do the laundry, that feels too hard" kind of depression. But the withdrawal has meant some irritability and the WORST restless legs. And sleeping poorly night after night after night doesn't help me feel better.

Anyway, things aren't really that bad. But I'm feeling pretty disappointed in my life lately. Trying to make some different choices to stop it from stagnating in this place where I'm unhappy. And even through all that disappointment, there have been some really good things, like kayaking around a lake with my mom, and eating green beans I grew in the garden, and taking a cold shower after a long walk in the hot, humid summer air.

[gyuzgrl]

off the market ||csc||

summary- You have a crush on your favourite customer. He's big and kind and pretty and god the things you wanted to do to him were unholy. Little do you know, he feels the exact same way.

"welcome!"

That's all you said. All you could say. All it took for Seungcheol to fall hopelessly in love.

He was a regular at your pet daycare center. Him and his puppy Kkuma were there virtually every day, either to pick up a treat or to drop her off in your care for the day.

It was safe to say they were you favourite customers. Sure the dog was cute, but lord, Seungcheol had you acting like a schoolgirl whenever he came around. With his deep voice, his charming smile and god those arms- how could you resist?

You were almost certain however, that he wasn't interested. Sure, you'd caught him staring at you a couple times, sure it was a little odd how he'd tip you a small fortune every now and then, sure his hand lingered on yours for longer than necessary when paying, but there was no way, you were sure. No way a man like him was still on the market.

So you loved him from afar.

Well, as far as he'd let you go, at least.

"Kkuma!" you beamed, reaching out to take the eager fluff ball from Seuncheol's arms.

She snuggled into you, tongue lolling out as you scratched behind her ears.

"spoilt little princess, this one"

You look up to find Seungcheol's gaze fixed onto you.

"y-yeah, she's a little diva, aren't you baby?" you coo, "dropping her off again, Mr Choi?"

He hums, reaching closer to ruffle her fur, "work's gotten a bit much these days- timings are crazy y'know"

Your breath hitches at the sudden proximity. His hand was aimed at the dog, sure, but it was so close- ghosting over the plush skin of your upper chest.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you steady yourself.

"I can uh, I can imagine, sir. I'll keep her safe, don't you worry"

You say it out of duty, but something about that title has Seungcheol fighting demons in his head. Sir. Sir, you call him, like it's the simplest, sweetest thing in the world. Little do you know, behind the crescents of those pretty doe eyes, his thoughts are nothing but pure filth.

Hesitantly, he pulls away, clearing his throat.

"I'll be back in a couple hours, shouldn't be too long... thanks for keeping her"

"it's my job" you laugh, "you're paying me aren't you, sir?"

He coughs, eyes darting all over. Sir. There you go again.

"I'll um- I'll get going. Bye, y/n"

He turns around too quickly to see the crimson hue diffusing across your cheeks. God you loved the way he said your name. It rolled off his tongue so easily.

"bye-bye!" you call after him.

All your interractions had been similar to this. He'd stop by, make polite conversation and leave. But still, still your heart thudded in your chest at the thought of him. He was just so perfect.

A couple of hours later, you hear the door open. It's late at night, so your first instinct is to grab something sharp before you make your way to the cash register out front.

Meekly, you tiptoe outside, clutching a pair of kuromi scissors in your fist.

"y/n?" a familiar voice calls.

It's just Seungcheol. Good.

You breathe a sigh of relief, walking out right away as you greet him with that million dollar smile of yours.

"welcome!"

"hope Kkuma wasn't too much of a mena-" he pauses, glancing down at your hand, "what's up with the scissors?"

"oh- uh, nothing nothing, just as a safety measure- I didn't know it was you so..."

He tenses, unsure of how to feel. On one hand, you insinuated that you felt safe around him, while on the other, you think you're unsafe in the store.

"can I walk you home?"

You're stunned. Your legs feel like jelly and you can barely process his words.

"can you what"

"walk you home. If you feel uncomfortable walking alone this late, that is. I live a minute away, and it really wouldn't be a hassle to step out for a seco-"

"I couldn't ask that of you sir," you interrupt, "it's not that big of a deal either way"

"you aren't asking. I'm offering. and it is a big deal, y/n. I want you to be safe, to feel safe."

Oh that one went straight to your cunt.

"I-" you hesitate.

"look, I'm here almost every day anyways- if that makes you feel any better. if you're gonna refuse, don't do it 'cause you think I'd be inconvenienced. I won't." he says, now gently prying the scissors out of your grasp, "but if you honestly just don't want me to walk you home, I'll back off"

"no it's not that-" you add, urgently.

"how 'bout we try it out today, and you tell me if you wanna continue, that okay?"

You nod, lowering your head in a lame attempt to hide the furious red glow of your cheeks. Seungcheol seems to have noticed already, though. He places the scissors onto the register beside you, and turns to look into your eyes.

When he finds you staring up at him already, he's pleasantly surprised. There's a long silence- a pause in time- and the air around you stills. It's just you and him, gazing into each other's eyes, gauging what the other feels.

He must not know how intimidating his stare is, considering how he refuses to look away. That is until, of course, he spies movement in his vision.

Your hands are shaking. You didn't know they were, until Seungcheol's gaze leaves your own, dropping to your trembling hands.

He steps closer.

"your hands are all jittery today" his voice is low and gentle, "why're you so nervous?"

The space between you lessens as he moves closer, his hand reaching over to hold your trembling one, interlacing his fingers with yours.

You suck in a sharp breath, letting it go in a staccato shudder.

"do I make you nervous?"

Your eyes, wide and round, dart across the room, opting to look anywhere but at him.

"do I?" he pushes, squeezing your hand.

"I-" you start, "I just um- it's a bi-"

Your words are cut off by a shrill bark.

Fuck. Kkuma. You forgot about Kkuma.

"Kku-Kkuma," you stutter, ripping your hand out of his grasp, "I gotta get her out"

He groans, his arm chasing after you as you whip your head around and scurry into the play room. He was so close- he almost got through to you.

His frustrations subside instantly, however, when you return, carrying a sleepy Kkuma in your arms. How the little puppy nuzzled into you, so safe and comfortable, made Seungcheol's heart ache. Kkuma's instincts were never wrong.

"c'mere princess," he coos, and you look up at him with wide eyes. Did he just-

His eyes are on you, knowingly. "missed me, didn't you Kkuma?"

Oh. Right. The dog.

Seungcheol's gaze remains fixed on you, a teasing smirk playing at his lips as you draw closer.

"you're all red" he grins, "here lemme take her" Before you manage to protest, his hands graze the skin of your forearm as he scoops Kkuma out of your embrace and into his.

It was brief, the contact, but you felt something akin to electricity when his fingertips touched your skin. The glow on your cheeks only brightened in response and he bit back a laugh.

"I'll- I should lock up"

"mm you go do that,"

Even with your back turned, you can feel his eyes burning into you, an attentive stare watching all your actions- how you locked up the register, switched off the lights, reached up to pull your shutters closed.

It was endearing to him. You worked so hard everyday, did so much all alone. All he wanted was to help, really.

So he does.

As you nod towards the door, signalling that you're ready to head out, Seungcheol follows.

You pull the main entrance closed, reaching up on tiptoes to yank the outer shutters down, struggling to hook your fingers into the handle. He notices. Of course he does.

Silently, he brushes up against you, his chest dangerously close to your back. His arm extends above your own and he pulls the handle down with ease.

Your brain short circuits.

"what are y-" you gasp, turning around to face him. The air he breathes out fans across your face and his eyes are set on you. This was dangerous. The proximity between your bodies, the warmth of his breath, the way his eyes darted down to your lips- it was too much.

"y/n,"

"yes?"

There's a pause. Seungcheol's brows scrunch up as if he's trying to find the right words to say.

"you don't have to think so hard, Mr Choi," you offer, staring up him with wide eyes.

"Seungcheol." he states, "call me Seungcheol"

You're so taken aback you miss the desperate "please" he adds in at the end of his sentence.

"Seungcheol,"

"sounds so pretty when you say it"

There's a pull between your bodies. It's gradual and painfully slow, but you both feel it. He leans in, eyes darting to your lips, and your eyes flutter closed.

Hot breaths fan your face as you wait for him to kiss you, each exhale burning against your skin.

"is this okay?" he murmurs.

You try to say yes, to say something, but all that comes out is a shaky exhale. Lips parted, lashes fluttering, you looked so pretty. He couldn't resist the way you drew him in.

Slowly inching closer, Seungcheol presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss. It's tentative, hesitant, almost, like he doesn't want to scare you away. His plump lips cradle yours so gently, it's like he's barely even there.

You draw back, breathing hard. "we shouldn'-" you start, turning your head away, before he cups your jaw and pulls you in once again.

This time he works urgently against you, sucking at your lower lip so fervently, it leaves you breathless. Any semblance of doubt leaves your mind, and you pull him closer, fisting his shirt.

It takes everything in you to hold yourself together when his tongue licks at the seam of your mouth, demanding entrance. While he explores the hollow of your mouth, your hands roam the expanse of his broad shoulders, feeling each hard-earned muscle tense under your touch.

Your lungs burn for air, pleading for sustenance, even for a second, but his grip on you stays firm, holding you in place. Feeling woozy from the lack of oxygen, you have to push him away, almost, fisting his hair with one hand and tugging him back.

Finally, you breathe.

"woah, there-" he grins, when your knees buckle, causing you to faceplant into his chest.

You groan, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"c'mon, let's get you home, hm? we should probably sit down and uh, talk." he mutters, motioning between you and him, "about this, I mean"

"yeah let's- let's go home"

The walk is surprisingly pleasant. Any expected awkwardness, any uncomfortable tension, seems to have vanished.

You chat as you walk side by side, Seungcheol holding Kkuma's leash while you hold onto his free arm. It's painfully domestic, honestly. Your heart thuds violently in your chest with every step you take with him.

"...and then she told Hansol to call her his cutie sexy baby- you should've seen the look on all our faces, I wanted to quit my job then and there-" he shivers as he narrates an incident to you, and you giggle away like a schoolgirl. The way Seungcheol made you smile so effortlessly was commendable. No matter when he showed up, what he said, where he was going, he always made you smile.

"poor him," you offer, sympathetically, grinning from ear to ear as you neared your apartment. "this is me,"

"if you're tired from today, we can talk sometime else, oka-"

You interrupt him with a tiny peck on his lips, earning a look of disbelief in response.

"god help me"

Which is how you've found yourself here- stumbling out of the elevator with his lips pressed on yours, hands grabbing feverishly at the flesh of your hips.

"wai- Seungcheol hold on-" you giggle, fumbling to thumb in your house code.

He backs away, pouting and looks down at Kkuma apologetically.

"come in"

There's a hint of tension in the air now, with everything becoming far more tangible than before. This is happening. This is real.

You beckon him over to the couch, letting Kkuma settle on a rug somewhere in the kitchen, slowly drifting to sleep.

He sits beside you, leaving respectful distance.

"I uh, I don't want this to seem like I'm just fucking around- I don't usually do this,"

"do what?"

"this" he motions between your bodies. "I've been wanting this, wanting you, for so long you have no idea"

"oh-" You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs. Seungcheol felt the same way you did? He's wanted you for all this time, just like you've wanted him?

"I'd like to take you out on a date. Properly. I really like you, y/n-"

It's a miracle you don't melt into a puddle of mush then and there.

Choi Seungcheol. Hot customer. Has feelings for you.

"and it's okay if you don't feel the same way- really- I just uh, didn't wanna kiss you and leave things unspecified"

"I-" you start, staring up at him as you searched for the right words to say, "I like you too"

His face softens, a soft smile taking over his lips. You feel an all too-familiar heat growing between your legs.

"I'm glad"

The distance between your bodies is bridged by his hand- a galiant soldier crossing borders into foreign territory. It slides over yours, interlacing your fingers in a firm knot.

A sharp breath puffs out your lips, and all you can do is say his name. You aren't sure why, you aren't sure what you're asking for, but you call him- your voice airy and desperate.

"Seungcheol,"

"hm?"

Words escape you. There's nothing you can find in yourself to say. You stare into his eyes, watching the way the brown of his irises hold your picture within them.

"oh, sweetheart..."

And his lips are on yours.

Seungcheol guides your hand to his shoulder, sliding his own to your waist as he draws you closer. The way your lips mold against each other is nothing short of perfect, like you were made for eachother.

He nips at your lower lip, dragging it as he pulls back ever so slightly, and you can't help but moan. He grins. Your face grows beet red and you pull away, panting, embarrassed.

"you're adorable, y'know that?"

"shut up"

"you've got a lotta attitude for someone who can't handle more than a little teasing"

"I- I can handle more" you argue, brows furrowing as you shuffle closer to him.

"oh?"

Your eyes widen.

"n-no I didn't mean it like tha-"

"like what?" he smirks. "how'd you mean it then?"

You lower your gaze, opting to stare instead at the fabric of his trousers. Seungcheol hooks a digit under your chin and tilts your head right back up, forcing you to look at him, cheeks burning.

"who're you hiding from, hm?"

"m'sorry," you breathe, looking at him through your lashes.

"I wanna make you feel good," he mumbles as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. "may I?"

It's a simple thing- asking for permission- but it has your heart fluttering. He asks you 'may I?' like he's at your mercy. Like you have him bewitched. He'd do anything and everything you ask of him, now more than ever.

You nod, leaning in to kiss him yet again, before he lifts you off the couch and into the bedroom. His strong arms hold you steady, and all your worries fade away. All the questions in your head dissipate, until all that's left is him.

Only him.

"this okay?" he murmurs, placing you on the bed.

"more than okay"

"I'm gonna take this off now, hm?" Deft hands slide up your torso, lifing your shirt off to reveal the lacy bra underneath. He has to pause for a moment to compose himself at the sight.

"so pretty,"

"Seungcheool" you whine, tugging his hands to your breasts, "touch me"

Any resolve he'd built up, to control himself for you, comes crumbling down.

Like a man starved, Seungcheol devours you, placing hungry, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach as he trails his lips to the cup of your bra.

He kisses the swell of your breasts, while his hand slides under your back, unclipping the garment with ungodly precision. You gasp when your nipples brush against the loosened fabric, sensitive and hard.

"fuck," he drawls when he tosses your bra aside to reveal your bare chest. Seungcheol kisses the tender skin, taking one of your nipples into his mouth while his hand caresses the other, pinching at the sensitive bud.

His actions elicit a whine on your part, back arching into him with every swivel of his tongue, every pinch of his fingers. There's a dark grin painted across his handsome face when he pulls away, looking down at you.

"look so pretty under me, sweetheart"

You turn away, bashfully, feeling small under the weight of his stare. It's hot, how Seungcheol's self-assurance radiates off of him. He's confident but not pushy, not arrogant like the other boys you've been with. The prolonged eye contact feels more intimate than anything you've ever experienced- just you and him, gazing at each other like the world outside is a problem for another day. Right now, nothing exists but the two of you.

A hand travels down the valley of your breasts to the hem of your pants, teasing the skin right under the waistband. He wants to savor this, to savor you. But god you're so desperate he can't bear the thought of dragging this out any longer.

"gonna make you feel good, yeah sweetheart? would you like that?"

"please" you whimper, rubbing your thighs together.

Anticipation swells in your belly as Seungcheol crawls down to face your cunt, keeping his eyes fixed on yours with each sultry motion. He grasps the button of your pants with his teeth, tugging it open before his hands slide them down your legs, fingers ghosting over the smooth flesh of your thighs.

"pretty, pretty girl"

Shamelessly, he spreads you open, rubbing along your slit through your soaked panties.

"fuck baby- you're dripping" he groans, pressing the fabric into your folds. Your body jerks at the touch, and you let out a pathetic whimper.

"all of this 'cause of me? such a good girl" he coos.

"all 'cause of you Cheol- fuck- only you"

That was it. Seungcheol considered himself a patient man, usually, but tonight? God, he wanted to rip those flimsy panties off of you and have you cum on his tongue again and again until you were crying.

In one swift motion, he leaves you bare, shoving your panties in his back pocket like some kind of trophy. His tongue finds your hole, dipping in just a little to collect your arousal before dragging it up to your clit.

"oh-"

You feel him grin against you, lapping at your clit slightly faster now. Your hands fly down to hold him in place, back arching as loud moans flood the room. You can't recall the last time a man has made you feel this good. Heck, you can't recall if they ever have.

"please- fuck don't stop don't stop," you whine, hips rolling up to match the rhythm of his tongue.

He groans when he realizes how you're using him for your pleasure, sending tingles across your skin.

"that's it, sweetheart- fuck that's my good girl" he mumbles against your cunt.

You feel your high approaching with the expert flick of Seungcheol's tongue, and you pull him closer in a desperate attempt to reach your orgasm. He senses you're close with the way your thighs begin to tense and quiver under his hold, so he slyly slips a finger into you, without warning, sending you straight over the edge in seconds.

Your voice breaks as you moan, head tipping back into the pillows as he pumps his finger in and out of your heat, working you through your orgasm.

"there we go, pretty- just like that, shit"

Seungcheol licks you clean, sending sparks shooting up your spine, before drawing back up to your lips to pull you into a messy, sticky kiss.

You taste yourself on his tongue, moaning as he licks into your mouth like he'd die if he didn't. The friction against your bare skin draws you back to reality, and you realize he's still clothed

"w-wait-" you pant, planting your hands on his chest.

He pulls away, eyes fluttering back open in confusion.

"what's wrong? d'you wanna sto-"

"no!" you interrupt, eyes widening. "not at all- I just..." you trail off, tugging at his shirt.

He chuckles.

"you just?"

"y'know" you reply, coy as ever, grasping his shirt once again.

"words, sweetheart, gotta tell me what you want" His voice is teasing, playful.

"your- your shirt..." you pout.

"mhm what about it?"

You glare up at him, brows setting into a deep frown. "don't be mean c'mon,"

"say it and I'll stop, promise"

"t-take your shirt off," you mutter, blushing wildly, "wanna see you"

He cocks a brow at you and you hastily add in a desperate "please", leaving him satisfied. Without wasting any more time, he settles back on his knees for a moment, yanking his shirt off to reveal his sculpted form.

Your mouth hangs open.

Sure, you figured he was fit- those arms were a dead giveaway- but this took the cake. Hard, chiseled muscles greeted you, sculpted by the gods themselves, and you felt your mouth water.

"oh wow" you breathe, reaching up to touch him and feel those muscles for yourself.

He grins, hovering back over you.

"perv"

"have I told you how much I like you?"

There's a pause, before you break out into a fit of giggles, grinning at each other like two lovesick teenagers.

Seungcheol shimmies his pants off too, kicking them away, leaving only his boxers on.

"are you gonna-"

"eat you out again? yes. yes I am."

You smack his chest, rolling your eyes.

"you can do that tomorrow- I wanna... wanna feel you," you whisper, "wanna feel you in me"

He mutters a quick "fuck" under his breath, hastily shoving his boxers down as he balances his weight on one arm.

"are you sure, sweetheart?"

"mhm"

"anytime you wanna stop jus-"

"just tell you, yes sir" you quip, rolling your eyes yet again, only this time, you take notice of the way his gaze darkens at your words.

Oh this is going to be fun.

"sir," you whine, rolling you hips up into his, "please- please fuck me I've been good, haven't I?"

You're unsure of where this sudden boost of confidence has come from, but Seungcheol's blown pupils and parted lips spur you on.

"I'll be so good for you, sir- promise," you pout.

"do you even- fuck do you even know what you're doing to me right now?"

"mhm"

"brat-" he snarls, dragging his cock against your folds. You moan, losing whatever semblance of power you managed to build.

"that's better,"

You're about to bite back, say something mean, but he interrupts, pushing his dick inside you, slow but firm.

"you're- fuck you're so big" you whimper, eyes welding themselves shut at the stretch of your walls. "it won't f-fit"

"I'll make it fit, I promise baby I won't hurt you, hm?"

You nod, tears welling up in your eyes when he pushes further. He was huge. Your toys had nothing on him. Nothing.

"shh sweetheart you're doing so well for me," he coos, pressing in until he bottoms out.

Your eyes brim over and you sniffle, trying to accomodate his size. It takes a minute, with him kissing your tears away and mumbling into your hair, but you finally give him the green light.

Automatically, his hips draw back and snap into you, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. His size was overwhelming, almost. He hit your g-spot effortlessly with each inward motion, and your brain fuzzed over with pleasure.

All you could think, all you could say, was him.

seungcheol, seungcheol, seungcheol- you chanted his name like a prayer, any notions of god, of a higher being, leaving your mind with him taking their place.

He held your life in the palm of his hand, commanding metaphorical deaths with his body. You'd be happy to die in his arms every night, and rise like phoenixes with the sun- souls unified after the previous night's escapades.

The steady but firm edge to his thrusts have you sobbing, crying on his dick, begging for something even you aren't sure of. Your cries echo through the room, followed by the sound of skin on skin. Your neighbours won't like this one bit, you'll definitely be in trouble tomorrow, but you can't bring yourself to stop.

He just feels so good.

"s-seungcheol I- please m'so close please please ple-" you sob, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him even closer.

He leans into your lips, capturing them between his own. It isn't a kiss. Your mouths hang open, moaning and sighing into each other with breaths so hot you feel like you're on fire. Like you're alive.

Distracted by the heat generated by your enmeshed breaths, you fail to notice how his hand creeps down to your clit. You cry out when his fingers make contact with the sensitive flesh, rubbing tight circles into you as his thrusts increase in speed.

"m'gonna- sir m'gonna cu-" you moan, cutting yourself off when you feel your body slip into pleasure. Your throat has gone bone-dry, like the last time you touched water was when you were in the womb.

"shit-" he curses, using you to finish himself off, before quickly following suit and finishing on your thighs.

"you're so beautiful- you're so goddamn beautiful" he rambles, collapsing on top of you.

Your throat hurts, and all you can do is wheeze as you try to soothe your burning lungs.

He notices, and grins to himself, ripping his body off of yours- "wait here, I'll be back".

He's gone for a minute, before returning with a towel and some water. "here" he says, holding the glass to your lips as you shuffle to sit up, "drink."

While you do that, he crawls back between your legs and gently wipes away the mess he made on your thighs.

It's basic decency, you know it is, but you can't help the way your heart flutters at how caring Seungcheol is.

"thank you" you murmur, cringing at the sting in your throat.

He looks confused for a moment.

"f-for cleaning me up"

God you were so cute. He couldn't bear it any longer.

"I always will, you don't need to say anything, sweetheart"

You blush, for the nth time that night, grinning from ear to ear as you're hit with realisation.

Choi Seungcheol is officially off the market.

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

Basic prompt but the pc saving Kalim life some how or helping him just because it's the right thing to do. Kalim struggles to process the pc saved him but also turns down a reward. They tell him they did it because their friends. Que a heart to heart where it sinks in to Kalim the pc is that genuine.

HELLO?! THIS IS SUCH AN INTERESTING AND FUN REQUEST?!?!?!

Note: . . .what does pc mean? I got a request with it and thought it was a typo at first but then I got more, and I have a feeling y'all aren't talking about a computer. Y'all really got me feeling old (/it's funny to me tho to feel like a 19yo grandma)

(Note Note: I came back to this after a few weeks (I'm busy, okay?!). . .does pc mean playable character?)

Summary: You save Kalim from getting nailed by a spelldrive disk and have to explain to him that acts of kindness from friends don't need monetary compensation. (Kalim x Reader)

It wasn't anything big, or it wasn't to you at least. A spelldrive disc had been hurtling at Kalim's head and you simply pushed him out of the way (you knew how bad those things hurt (once you woke up from them knocking your lights out that is)). It was a simple gesture: just a nice thing to do.

But, to Kalim? You were a saint that needed to be rewarded immediately. He insists that you take a cash reward as compensation for saving his life, but you refuse (and sevens know you could use the money).

Kalim initially thinks you're joking or being polite when you refuse, but he soon realizes that isn't the case. "What?" he gapes, his eyes the size of saucers.

"No, thank you. I was just being nice. I don't need a reward for that." as you repeat your words, you notice Kalim shaking his head.

"Still! A lot of things people get rewards for are from being nice! Like finding and returning a lost cat!"

Your brow quirks and an amused smile creeps onto your face, "Yeah, but in that situation the two parties aren't usually friends." It was clear from the look on Kalim's face that something about what you were saying wasn't clicking.

The smile slowly fades from your face as you speak, "You know that you don't have to pay friends for just being nice right? For just helping you out?"

He's quiet for a moment, his face scrunched up in contemplation, "Cater and Lilia have said stuff like that after they help me with something, but it's usually just something like explaining homework."

It's then that it clicks for you that Kalim has probably never actually had a friend other than Jamil help him out with something significant before, and Jamil is on his family's payroll. Kalim grew up sheltered in an environment where everyone who was kind to him was paid by his father to do so.

Your hands reach to gently cup his. This time, you speak in a softer, more definite tone: like you're explaining a homework problem, "Friends help each other out because they're friends and because they care for each other. They don't do it because you pay them to."

A mix between distress and disbelief cross Kalim's face.

"Jamil doesn't count" you add: assuming that's what he was upset over. "You can be friends with someone who works for you."

He remains silent for a moment, his face keeping that same, odd expression. "Oh." is all he says when he finally does speak. Despite what many believe, Kalim isn't stupid. He's naive in certain situations, but that's only because he's much too experienced in the harsher realities of life. This is to say, he's competent enough to realize that your words are not too subtly insinuating that most of the people who have done acts like the one you just did for him weren't being genuine. They weren't his friends.

Unable to think so something to say that would ease his pain, you do all you know to and offer him a hug. You open your arms with a soft, inquisitive look, and Kalim collapses into you like a runner exhausted after a marathon.

No tears leave his eyes, nor sobs his mouth, but you can tell by the way his body lays limp against yours that he's not okay. There's nothing you can say to him. His worldview just got shattered. That takes time no amount of words can compensate for to heal.

So you hold him. You keep the pieces of him that chip off and crack away held firmly together in your embrace.

And you keep holding him. You will continue to hold him until he's ready to pick his pieces back up on his own again.

When he is, he'll have you, one of his first real friends there by his side.

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[divadepreshawn]

𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒏 𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓

Aaron Hotchner × fem!reader ×popstar

Okay, that was a little thing I wrote now just to advance the story further. FaceTime is definitely going to be a recurring thing You went on tour WC: 1 324 This was a little idea I had while washing the dishes, don't take it too seriously. part six

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10:00 PM

“Where are you right now?” he asks, his voice low and focused, his gaze briefly shifting from the open file to the computer screen.

“In Stockholm,” you reply, shuffling through a pile of disorganized papers in front of you. The hotel room is quiet, the heavy curtains muffling the sounds of the city. You pause for a second to pull on your sweatshirt. “For now. I’m catching a flight to Brussels early tomorrow.”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Shouldn’t you be home too?” you reply with a smile.

“Okay, fair enough. Jack’s with Haley this week. I’m trying to get ahead on the paperwork and… keep my mind busy.”

“You want to keep my mind busy? That’s great, because I have a million things to tell you.” You shift in your chair, giving up trying to find the paper you needed. “Did you know that almost a third of Stockholm is covered by water?”

He stops writing and turns to look at you. “No, I didn’t.”

You continue to gesture dramatically with your hands. “They have fifty-seven bridges. Fifty-seven! It’s like a civil engineer’s paradise.”

“I really don’t know how you find time to learn this stuff,” he says, shaking his head with that half-smile that makes you want to get on a plane and face an eleven-hour flight.

You shrug. “I find time for a lot of things.”

“I see.”

The last week has been… interesting. You’ve gone on a date with an FBI agent, poured your insecurities out to him, and kissed him.

And now you’re on a FaceTime call with him. Everything is normal. Clearly a sequence that would exist in some kind of manual in the magazines you read as a teenager.

You hadn’t exactly named your relationship. But after the conversation at the restaurant, it was clear that you needed to take it slow—test the waters first. And if everything went wrong, you could still have a friend. A good friend, by the way. Someone who understood you. Someone you could count on, knowing that he wouldn't charge more than you could offer. But looking at him now…

His shirt was slightly wrinkled, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the defined arms that were usually hidden under the fabric. His tie was loose and almost careless.

Being honest? You were tempted to break the deal and ask him to marry you.

He notices your sudden silence, putting down his pen completely, paying full attention to you now. “What is it?”

You bite your lip, trying to contain a smile that threatens to escape. “Nothing.”

“You're lying.”

“Damn profiler.” You roll your eyes, feigning impatience. “I was just looking at the decor in your office. Did you actually read all those books?”

He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest with an amused smile on his lips. “No, I haven’t read them all. Now are you going to tell me what you’re really thinking or do you need to be formally interrogated?”

Your gaze immediately drops to his arms – you wonder if he’s doing this on purpose just to test your sanity.

You blink your eyes in mock innocence. “It depends.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Of what?”

“Can you turn off the cameras in the interrogation room? If so, what material is the table made of? Is it sturdy? Can you guarantee that no one will peek through the mirror?”

The surprise quickly passes over his face, replaced by a crooked, curious smile. “What exactly are you insinuating?”

“Insinuating? Me?” You place a hand on your chest. “Please, Hotchner. This is field research. I’m developing a paper.”

His laughter bursts out from the other side – without any attempt at restraint. He tilts his head back for a second, his eyes closing briefly – trying to assimilate what you just said.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice still thick with laughter. “A paper, yes? Where will it be published?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Unfortunately, it’s confidential. But I can send you a copy.”

“Please include graphs, I want to understand the methodology.” He quickly looked away to the corner of the screen, checking the time. His brow furrowed then. “Didn’t you say you needed to rest so you could write some tomorrow?”

“Yes,” you agree, reaching for your notebook. “I’m doing that right now.”

He narrows his eyes, trying to decipher if you were serious or just joking.

“Are you going to try writing now?”

“Yes,” you repeat with a smile. “You’re a good inspiration. In fact, so good that I could freestyle it right now.”

He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, a skeptical – and amused – glint in his eyes. “Freestyle? I need to see that.”

You rest your notebook on your knee, already opening your phone to choose one of the bases Lana sent you. “Okay. But you can’t laugh.”

“Okay, I won’t.” He raises his hands like an oath.

“Okay, tell me a word, anything.”

He looks around the office, as if it were part of a criminal observation exercise. Your eyes wander over the table, papers scattered around, until they stop at a small snow globe on the shelf next to it. “Christmas.”

“May baby Jesus forgive me.” You mumble before pressing play on the audio.

“Think I only want you under my mistletoe I might change your contact to Has a Huge North Pole You said you like my stockings better on the floor Boy, I've been a bad girl, I guess I'm getting coal, oh”

He frowns, before his eyes widen a little. A short laugh escapes, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “That escalated fast.”

“Let me come warm you up You been out in the snow Baby, my tongue goes numb Sounds like: Ho-ho-ho”

He leans forward, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Oh my God…” he mutters.

“I don't want Santa's elves Underneath this ol' tree Here's a lil carol I wrote It's about you and me (me) You're my wish list Lookin' at you got me thinkin' Christmas Snowflakes in my stomach when we're kissin' And when you're comin' down the chimney Oh, it feels so good”

A disbelieving laugh escapes his lips. "Okay, you're insane," he says, chuckling softly. "I can't have you, Morgan, and Garcia in the same room, the world wouldn't take it."

“I need that Charles Dickens You'll be Santa Claus and I'll be Mrs I'll take you for a ride, I'll be your Vixen I don't even know, I'm talkin' Christmas”

He arched an eyebrow “Are we just talking about Christmas? Really?”

“I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (ah) I'm talkin' deckin' all the halls I'm talkin' spikin' eggnog I'm talkin' opposite of small I'm talkin' big snowballs” You got a new toy for me I'm out here trimmin' the tree I caught that holiday glee My true love gave it to me I'm talkin' (talkin'), I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (talkin') I'm talkin', I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (na-na-na, blah, blah, blah, blah) Ah, ah, ah, ah (ah) I'm talkin' chestnuts (talkin') I'm talkin', I'm talkin' Look at all those presents, that's a big sack Boy, that package is too big to gift wrap Woke up this morning, thought I'd write a Christsmash How quickly can you build a snowman? Think fast”

When you finish singing, still half laughing, he blinks slowly – half dazed, trying to process what he just heard.

“Okay.” He keeps his eyes fixed on you, somewhere between confused, fascinated… and maybe a little scared. “So many things to point out.”

He holds up a finger, listing: “First, the fact that you managed to improvise an entire Christmas-themed song in seconds. Amazing.” He holds up another finger. “Second, your ability to create double meanings so quickly… with consistency. Scary.”

He pauses slightly, as if searching for the exact words. “That was one of the most bizarre and genius things I’ve ever seen or heard in my entire life.”

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English is not my first language are sorry for any mistake

If you have any ideas to contribute to the sequel I will be happy to receive them :)

tag: @duchesz @midnghtprentiss @jazzimac1967 @queenofnothng @leathynn @camihotchner @yourallaround-simp @pastelpinkflowerlife @padlockedheartsreading @tomhiddlestonforever-blog @michasia24 @sweetpianoxoxo @l-a-u-r-aaa

[strawberrystepmom]

yami x f!noble reader. cw smoking, sex insinuated, misogyny and mentions of marriage as well as fertility but not on yami's part. i just like these two sorry for party rockin | wc 1.1k, divider thanks to @cafekitsune

you can read more about these two here

“I know it’s impolite to ask but what happened between the two of you?”

Yami chuckles, shoulders pressed against the rickety headboard behind him. 

“Who?” He asks, well aware of what you mean despite his attempt to seem unsure. You sigh, turning to look at him. 

“Charlotte.”

A moonbeam pours in over the two of you, the room otherwise dark and silent, the stillness emboldening you to finally ask him some questions. Tightening the sheet that is wrapped around your body, you dare glance up at him to find him already staring at you, as though he’s trying to figure out why you’d ask in the first place.

“Sometimes things just don’t work out,” he shrugs flippantly. You get the sense that he’s downplaying but keep it to yourself, wide eyes watching his every movement. “We were more different than we thought and decided to go our separate ways and it has been mostly fine.”

Perhaps it’s naivety (or the four failed engagements) but you believe that you understand what he means, nodding slowly. You’ve always viewed love as an ever changing puzzle, similar to the one in your father’s study at home. A wooden frame holds ceramic sliding tiles and you position them again and again until a picture is clear and in front of you - what you’ve been looking for the entire time. 

You blink hard and glance down at your hands, once again pulling the linens over your exposed cleavage. Goosebumps prickle your skin, forcing you to dive further under, and he notices and pulls you against his warm side.

“Since we’re asking questions all of sudden, how about you?” He raises a brow, sliding lower into the bed and giving you room to rest your head against the firmness of his stomach. “Four is damn near impressive.”

Mirroring his prior shrug, you contemplate quietly what it truly means to tell four men you don’t want to marry them. Arrogant is what one told you and you found it hard to disagree when he was red cheeked and yelling at you. Frigid was what another said, accusing you of hiding potential issues with producing an heir for his family. A third said nothing but left you silently to consider your opinion of yourself, sitting in a wooden backed chair in the study where that slide puzzle rested on a table across from you while he cast you a disappointed glance.

The fourth and most recent you objected to before he could harm your ego further, refusing his offers of land and jewels. You have both of those things. You’re an heiress in your own right despite the sons your father has now sired amongst your 11 siblings. Physical means mean nothing to you when what you desire is deeper than gilded flesh. 

“I cannot commit to living a life where I will be unable to be who I am.” 

You finally answer after prolonged silence, giving yourself permission to be honest since he was honest with you. 

“So you don’t want to get married?” He asks, finally lighting a cigarette but politely blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of you. You shake your head, the back of it against his stomach, leaving you to look up at him. “The opposite, actually. I would love to be married and to have a family but not at the cost of myself and having to be misunderstood to maintain peace.”

He hums, a sound you believe is some level of understanding of what you mean, and inhales another puff. 

“What makes you so different from all the other noble girls?”

The question would be offensive if it were to be asked by anyone else but you know Yami. He’s rough around the edges and sometimes a bit too curt in saying what he means but there’s genuine curiosity not derision in his tone. 

“I’m apprehensive to say that I am all that different considering how similar our upbringings tend to be yet I feel like I’ve never quite fit in with them.” Your head remains resting in the cradle of his slightly bent middle, the cherry glow of his cigarette illuminating his face enough you can make out those wise eyes staring at your mouth. “I’ve never loved high society. It’s suffocating and everyone is very judgemental and most of them have already, probably correctly, theorized that I will be a spinster left to take care of my siblings for all my life.”

A chuckle rumbles through him in tandem with a shake of his head you can see thanks to the glow of his cigarette. He mumbles around the filter, one big hand coming to rest on the covered dip of your waist. “Don’t say shit like that. You’re pretty and smart and funny once you get to runnin’ your mouth so what’s the point in pretending you aren’t?”

Your face warms beneath his praise and your eyes dart away from him, choosing to settle on the specs of dust floating through the single beam of light shining through the room. You’ve already given him more of yourself than you intended and not simply your body, your feelings as well. There’s no turning back so you continue, feeling your heart beating in your throat while speaking.

“I believe it’s easier for me to make all of this my fault,” you nearly whisper, keeping your gaze locked on the ceiling above while you’re making a confession. “To believe there’s something wrong with me rather than the system we use to decide people’s value.”

Stamping out his cigarette against the windowsill with his free hand, he squeezes your waist with the occupied one and draws your attention back, leaving you blinking up at him.

“Well don’t. It doesn’t seem like you’re the problem here at all.” Another squeeze and your heart beats in time with it. There’s an easy smile on his face, one you can barely make out in the dim room, yet you match it with one of your own.  “I think you have plenty of time to find someone if you want to,” he continues. 

“I think the same of you, Yami.” An unexpected response. He raises a brow, sliding further down into the bed beside you. You remain with your head against him, tucked into his side, a large arm wrapped around your waist. “I think the woman who ends up with you will be lucky.”

Pulling you tighter against him, he considers your sentiment and hums.

“I guess you’ll have to ask her when that day comes if she’s lucky or not.”

You nod once, deciding to let silence win you both over as the night continues to fade away, hoping to prolong your time with him as much as possible without any further interruption.

[uniquethingtastemaker]

Ok, question. I’m not a huge fan of the MC in Love and Deepspace. Does anyone feel the same way? Her personality is so off putting that I haven’t gotten that far into the main story line because of that. Considering all that. I want to create a few fanfics with an MC with a different and cooler personality. Her position would be the same though.

I’ll cite my evidence for why I dislike her so much (Disclaimer: I’ve seen spoilers and some of Rafayel’s cards):

We’ll start with Xavier. Poor Xavier. He’s one of my favorites. Unproblematic sleepy boi for the most part. How the MC treats him grates me, especially at the beginning.

The second time they meet (Chapter 3), they’re in an active danger zone. MC gets a sprained ankle and Xavier patches her up. Then, he takes out a ton of Wanders to clear the path for her. That’s very thoughtful. Afterward, MC starts to grill him on his identity. I’m not really sure why. I can only assume it’s a mix between him being mysterious about his identity and his insane skill (it’s called being private, but MC didn’t get the memo). She proceeds to go through a lengthy interrogation, only to come up empty.

This confuses me for multiple reasons. First, they’re in the middle of a danger zone. The priority should be getting out or clearing Wanderers, not figuring out his identity. She can ask her boss later. If she’s wary of Xavier because he’s not apart of UNICORN, then she should focus on getting out of there. She doesn’t fear him though. MC doesn’t focus on getting out, and she goes as far as sassing him later for not giving her more information. If you provoke an unpredictable and dangerous entity, there’s a good chance they’ll harm you. Consider all this, MC doesn’t fear him. Therefore, his identity doesn’t matter for her to survive. This means she wants private information from someone who clearly doesn’t want to give it. That’s rude af, especially considering he’s been helping her since he saw her. Her verbiage also rubs me the wrong way. It feels like she thinks she’s entitled to his private information. It’s ridiculous. MC has met him twice. Of course he’s not going to tell her sensitive intel. I wouldn’t either if someone acted like that toward me.

The next thing for poor Xavier was a text conversation. MC basically called him emotionless. I had to take a second to process that one. Everyone has feelings even if they don’t express them very much. I’m baffled that she insinuated that when she knows Zayne. MC has never said that about Zayne as far as I know, and he’s way less expressive than Xavier. It’s rude, insensitive, and immature to say that to someone.

Again with Xavier. There was a part where MC was given a proposal to help in obtaining some information in the main story. It was dangerous. Xavier stayed behind after her boss left. There were a few choices you could respond with. Obviously, I chose those favorable to Xavier. I click on “I want you as my hunting partner.” He was genuinely excited and happy that you wanted to work with him. Then MC adds that she views him as a tool. She’s objectifying him. That’s unacceptable and disrespectful to do to anybody, but to do it to someone with good intentions and has your best interest at heart is beyond upsetting. It was painful to watch the excited, happy expression on his face drop into one of dejection.

Let’s talk about Zayne. I’m baffled by how MC treats him. She goes against her doctor’s orders despite having a specific medical condition. She brushes him off and refuses to listen to him. It’s frustrating to witness. It makes my brain hurt. She has a job that requires extensive physical and dangerous activity. It’s important to take care of her health so she’s competent and safe. If something happens on the battlefield because MC didn’t take care of herself, she’s putting more people in danger. Instead of her teammates only having to worry just about themselves, they’ll have another burden to deal with. It seems extremely irresponsible.

Now, Rafayel… again, the MC baffles me. During the second meeting, she is incredibly aggressive. It’s the coral stone incident with his painting driving someone mad. She accuses Rafayel of malicious intent without any concrete evidence from what I understood. Although MC was right, she didn’t have any proof. As far as she knew, he doesn’t have a motive. That’s a huge issue for me. Most people don’t kill another without a reason. Also if the substance he used as paint was tainted, how should he know? He doesn’t specialize or deal with Wanderers everyday. It could very well be an accident. I find her actions and belief of immediately assuming the absolute worst and being aggressive about it as ineffective and off putting.

Next is when she finds out Rafayel is a Lemurian. Oh boy, I was in a tizzy about this scene. Now, I don’t particularly like how she treated him when he clearly felt awful. Her bedside manner was terrible, but it wasn’t a big deal. However, when the scales appear, MC touches them without permission. Rafayel is in a vulnerable state and has accidentally revealed a huge weakness that puts him in danger if others found out. When our merman boy wakes up, he tells her not to touch him. MC disregards that and continues to basically assault him. I understand that some people might find touching his cheek not a big deal, but it’s the consent that matters. He didn’t consent to her touch and she did it anyway. He was clearly uncomfortable and upset. Rafayel also had little way to fight back because of his weakened state. People might argue, “he wanted it.” That is a dangerous mindset to have. If it was applied to a real world case, then that could be making an excuse for a potential rapist. No means no. Even if he did desire it, she needs explicit consent.

Then she makes a… threat? comment? about how she could kidnap him and sell him to the highest bidder. That is not cool. Even if it’s a joke, it’s not funny. That is a real threat and danger to Rafayel, and she says it without hesitation. MC has no regard for his feelings about the situation. She says “I would never do that to you” at the end, but that doesn’t cancel out what she said earlier. MC proved she wasn’t safe emotionally. No wonder Rafayel has the sentiment of “all humans are greedy.” If I was faced with MC and the people who hound him to buy his art, I might be convinced too.

Overall, I have huge problems with the MC. Does anyone feel the same? I tend to specialize in write canon-based fanfics with twists and whatnot. Would anyone be interested? (I’ll probably do it anyway, but feedback is always appreciated) If I do, I’m changing MC’s personality 100%

[klausysworld]

Do u think u could make something where Klaus after he's become the hybrid goes round innocent readers house and reader just has like 2 or 3 massive dogs like Rottweiler, great Dane, Newfoundland, a breed like that, like, how would he be with that after he'd recently unlocked his wolf side and he's just like, really territorial over reader then the dogs become more territorial over reader, just something along those lines.ALSO, if this doesn't make sense then I'm really sorry and I love your writing❤

They’re Just Puppies!

Y/n didn’t ever have Klaus round her house, she said that it was too small and that he wouldn’t like it. Klaus told her it was ridiculous and if it belonged to her then he would love it but she continued to refuse.

Begrudgingly he let it go.

Until of course he unlocked his wolf side. Once his beast was in control, he was able to smell the other canines on her. His wolf did not like that at all. So naturally he would rub as much of his scent on her as possible, ensuring that any being with a nose would be able to smell him everywhere.

She never questioned it and just enjoyed the affection, she would snuggle against him and bask in his warmth.

But then as soon as she got home, her dogs would become confused and alarmed by the smell of another animal on her and would ensure to clean the scent off as best they could.

To Klaus’s wolf this was a competition, whoever or whatever was marking her was challenging him and he didn’t take it lightly.

He made sure to have her on him all the time, sat on his lap or held in his arms. He would have her dress in his clothes and would insist she kept them.

Y/n remained oblivious to the territorial nature of Klaus’s behaviour, she hadn’t been in a relationship before and assumed everyone was as protective and possessive over their lover like he was. So she fed into it and happily and would wrap herself up in his henleys, she’d shower at his house and use his soap like he told her to and snuggled up in his sheets so that every inch of her skin smelt of him.

Klaus was glad at her willingness, it eased his mind but he would still smell the dogs on her and he couldn’t distinguish if it was wolf or your average pet. A brief wondering of her being a werewolf passed his mind but she was far too docile and sweet to have ever killed someone. Even if her wolf side were dormant he couldn’t imagine her ever unlocking it and he didn’t want her to unless she absolutely had to. No he’d make any kills necessary for her so that she may remain innocent.

Her innocence made her so easy to love, she just wanted to be with him and curl up in his hold. When he was angry she would just hug him and apologise for things that weren’t her fault and she would defend his actions with everything she had. Klaus in return would ensure that not an ounce of harm should ever come to her. She didn’t deserve any suffering.

The only time her innocence became slightly frustrating was when Klaus tried to insinuate anything sexual. To begin with his hints and touches weren’t acknowledged at all but gradually he made himself more clear and introduced her to new feelings.

His wolf especially loved to push her limits, loved to claim her as his own and fill her with his love.

After a while, Klaus managed to convince Y/n to let him come to her house.

When she opened the door, three big Rottweilers were immediately all over her. Klaus’s wolf let out a low growl as she giggled and stroked the dogs, calling them all ‘good boys’. Those two words made his wolf snap, he pulled her back into his arms and pressed himself tightly against her. She laughed and look up at him with a smile.

“They won’t bite, they’re gentle really I promise” she told him, unaware of the way they all bared their teeth at Klaus.

Their mouth shut as soon as she turned to them and a flow a whined left them, their tails wagging as they begged for her attention.

She pulled away from Klaus making him frown. She proceeded to lead her dogs to the kitchen and fill their bowls but they were more interested and getting Klaus’s scent off of her skin.

The hybrid did not like this at all. He flashed his golden eyes at one of the dogs which resulted in one of them growling threateningly and biting ur teeth at him. Y/n told the pet off and apologised with a confused tone. “People don’t really come over so maybe he just doesn’t like you in the house” she murmured, stroking the dogs head lovingly making Klaus’s wolf whimper.

Eventually he had her away from them and instead pressed against the couch.

The Rottweilers stayed on the floor, a serious of quiet growls sounding from them as they watched Klaus push his tongue into Y/n’s mouth. She would whine and moan softly, her legs wrapping around him and hands in his hair. Klaus would glance at the dogs every now and then, his gaze threatening and deliberate as he rubbed his hands against her body.

His mouth attacked her neck next, purposefully making those dark marks that ranged from red to blue along her neck. Y/n whimpers his name on repeat, her fingers tugging his curls desperately.

Eventually one of her pets got frustrated enough and came over, growling and snapping its teeth at Klaus.

Immediately he snarled back and pulled away, letting his hybrid features take over his face.

“Klaus!” Y/n gasped “stop, they’re puppies” she cried, pushing him off and letting one of her Rottweilers jump on beside her. Klaus’s jaw clenched as he watched her hug and kiss the animal of the head, smiling and whispering to him.

“That is not a puppy” he grumbled and she looked up at him sadly

“You don’t like him? Any of them?” She asked quietly, and Klaus’s expression changed. Would she leave him if he didn’t get on with the dogs?

“I- not yet! But maybe, I just don’t know them” he cleared his throat and reached out to pet the dog only for it to grab his hand with its teeth.

“He’s just playing, come on drop” she commanded and the dog let go of his hand, happy to get praise and pets from Y/n. Klaus narrowed his eyes but smiled when she looked his way. Silently he pulled her into his lap and hummed

“How about we go upstairs?” He proposed and she nodded

“Sure, now?” She asked

“Mhm definitely” he mumbled whilst picking her up and quickly taking her upstairs and into her room. He dropped them both onto her bed and crawled on top of her with a soft sigh of relief. The moment was short lived as all three dogs jumped up beside them, laying down on her bed and wagging their tails knowingly.

Klaus groaned and laid on top of her, squishing her and making her giggle. “What’re you doing” she whispered and he mumbled

“Do they have to be in here?”

“They sleep here” she told him with the tilt of her head

“I know sweetheart but currently I don’t plan on sleeping right now love. We can let them in…later” he moaned and she sighed

“Fine but…they’ll cry”

“Doesn’t bother me” he replied easily

“Okay” she whispered as she moved from under him and ushered her boys out of her room and shut the door. Klaus grinned and tackled her back to bed, kissing her all over and pulling the covers over them. Y/n let out a giggle and pressed her lips to his.

Just as Klaus’s hands got to her panties, the handle of the door went. Y/n tensed and Klaus’s head shot up. He look in the direction only to find the Rottweilers stood in the doorway, tails wagging and tongues hanging.

“Why didn’t I see that coming?” Klaus uttered to himself, staring blankly at the animals and wondering how he would figure this out.

[fleurrreads]

the love you give . rhysand x reader

an: i absolutely love rhys and would absolutely burn down the world for him. god knows he deserves someone who would do for him what he’s done for others.

based on this request

your relationship with rhys is complicated. you’ve been having this friends-who-coincidentally-make-love type of thing going on and you really don’t know how to talk to him about it. yes, he’s told you multiple times during sex how he loves you. but that can all just be the heat of the moment, right? surely the flutter in your heart didn’t mean anything?

just like today is no different. you watch rhys sit up from the bed, grabbing his pants and walking over to your dresser to get one of his shirts that he has recently started leaving in your room. ‘i’m here so much i might just as well start leaving my clothes in here’ he said one afternoon after your activities. it made your heart race, those silly little words.

“what’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours, angel?” rhys moves to sit down on the bed, caressing your hair. you’ve been debating telling him. telling him that he makes your world spin. that he basically *is* your world. the suppressed feelings bubbling over in your heart wasn’t going to be kept dormant for long. you know you have to let it out eventually. what better time than now?

“i’m just thinking about something i’ve been meaning to talk to you about. something i’m not sure i know how to say.” you’re fidgeting with your hands, a nervous tick you’ve acquired through the years. “i don’t know how to phrase this other than saying it flat out, rhys. i like you, a lot. we’ve been friends for so long and i’ve felt that you’re more than just my friend. i love you, rhys.” you don’t dare look at him, too scared of the reaction he might have on his face. you feel the tension before you can look at him, and then he does the unimaginable.

he laughs.

a loud, cackling laugh. you feel your whole body go cold. rhys stands up, nearly doubling over as he tries to gather himself. “post-sex emotions really got you bad today, huh? you’re even confessing your love to me now. that one is new right? we should add that to the list.” he smiles and you feel your whole world spin, not in a good way anymore. you feel like the air has been stolen from your lungs and tears prickle at your lash line. is this what he thought this was? your post-sex hormones being heightened and you confessing out of lust?

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, standing up from the bed and grabbing the nearest piece of clothing to make yourself decent. you need to get out. right now. “you’re right, this was a stupid idea to say this to you and think you’d care. hormones right?” a pathetic excuse for a laugh leaves your lips as you move to the door. you don’t see the smile drop from rhys’ face as you shut the door, making your way to your apartment, away from the townhouse, away from him.

it’s been twelve days. twelve days since you’ve been near the house of wind, the townhouse, and anywhere near him. you couldn’t stand to see his face after he basically insinuated that your confession was that of lust and that you weren’t thinking straight. when in fact you were probably never thinking more clear than that moment. you love him. with your entire heart. it never occurred to you that your heart would be crushed by him too.

a hard collection of knocks rip you from your thoughts as you make your way to the door. amren always had a way of knocking like hell was at her tail, which it probably was now that you think about it… “yes, dear mother, amren you don’t need to knock the door down i’m-“ your voice is cut off as you’re face to face with rhys, a disheveled messy version of him at least. “what do you want, rhys?” your tone is cold, causing him to wince. he nods towards your living room, “can i come in, please? i need to talk to you.”

you nearly give him the loud and obnoxious laugh he gave you twelve days ago when he dismissed your feelings like that so easily. but you push the anger and hurt down, nodding. “make it quick.”

a homemade cup of coffee in hand, rhys sits down on your couch with you on the opposite side. you don’t dare get too close. rhys meets your eyes, trying to decipher what might be going on in your head right now, what you must think of him. he’s had the roughest twelve days. he went over the conversation you had with him at least a hundred times, and each time he relived that look on your face he nearly cried. “i’m sorry for how i reacted that night. i should’ve never let you leave like that. i just didn’t want to believe it.” he says softly, softer than you’ve ever heard him speak. “believe what, rhys?” you tilt your head. “believe that you’d actually love me. this version of me. the one you get to see and others don’t. the side of me that makes me scared, and the one that i can’t show anyone without showing them i’m vulnerable. i couldn’t believe that you’d love that… that ugly part of me. i shouldn’t have said it was just lust clouding your mind. you and i both know you’re much smarter and more thoughtful than that. you wouldn’t just say things like that without meaning it and i should’ve told you this a few days ago already but i was afraid. afraid i messed it up before it could happen. before i could love you and declare it from the top of the snowy mountains.”

your tears are flowing as you look at rhys, really looking at him. he’s shaking, that nervous tick of yours now prominent on him as he’s picking his nails. your heart and mind is running at a million miles a minute and you take a deep breath to ground yourself before you take his hands in yours.

“rhys, i know this took a lot for you to say, and i know that you’re scared. i’m scared too. i’ve never felt like this with anyone before. i love every part of you, especially the parts you don’t show anyone else. it’s like i get a piece of you all to myself. that part of your soul. it’s more intimate than sex, it’s so raw and pure and natural that it feels like someone completely different. not the high lord of the night court, not the rhysand your family sees, just rhys. my rhys. those things don’t make you ugly, rhys. they make you strong, and powerful and amazing. that’s why i wanted you to know that someone can love those parts of you too. not just the charismatic, sarcastic persona you put on for your friends and loved ones. and not the cold, ruthless leader that the court of nightmares believes you to be. but just you. the true you. i love everything about you, all of it.”

rhys kisses you, passionately. you’ve never had a kiss like this with him. never one with such meaning as this. this one was different. as to say ‘thank you for loving me even when it’s hard to see why’ and you realise that you’d burn the world down for him if he asked. he deserves the world, and so much more. everything he has sacrificed for his people and his family, he deserves that same sacrifices made for him tenfold.

he cups your cheek, whispering so softly you nearly don’t catch it but it makes all the heartbreak and doing it all again worth it, “i love you. until my last dying breath.”

i do not allow my works to be copied, put into any ai website etc.

shares and reblogs are highly appreciated! ♡

[prismatoxic]

cause I need to hear more of your sweet thoughts bout those two freaks, favorite laichil moments that have been stewing in the back of the mind?

oh gosh ummmmm

well now that episode 11 is out i am so very deeply fond of laios's visual pan from kensuke to chilchuck's dawning, rage-filled horror at what's happened

i think the swearing was better in the manga--not because the anime let him say actual words (bc i think that's awesome) but bc in the manga i thought they were still running while chilchuck was doing this. good visual

OF COURSE THE BEST EPISODE 11 CHILAIOS MOMENT... TO ME... is when chilchuck tells laios they're going to have a Talk later

the dub delivery kind of disappointed me (as it always does) BUT IN THE SUB the way laios immediately agrees is so very much, to me, a "yes sir" moment. and if you read my fic you know i'm very into this

i have a lot of little canon moments that i'm super fond of and am very excited to see in the anime... my faves are often when chilchuck is being a hostile little goblin but i'm so fucking excited about what i assume will be episode 13. you know. because

um

okay i have a lot of thoughts actually (MANGA SPOILERS I'M SERIOUS)

so. chapter 30.

chilchuck goes to get the party's supplies from where they were abandoned in the house they had dinner with falin at, having his own character arc along the way. we have seen him try to convince both leed and senshi that the smartest thing to do will be to lie to laios and marcille so they can return to the surface. trying to continue in this state will kill them, but neither of them will rest if they think they can still find falin. neither senshi nor leed agree with chilchuck's plan, and leed insinuates he's a coward. chilchuck stays firm. even after he's clearly pushed off kilter by leed saying he should just tell the truth, we don't have any concrete reason to think he will.

then they return and senshi is struggling to keep a now-awake laios down. laios is wounded and weak and senshi is a dwarf but laios is so deeply, fervently determined to get falin back that he's very hard to stop.

chilchuck, by contrast, is not strong at all, but somehow his added presence gets laios to sit back down. chilchuck rests a hand on laios's shoulder and even before he says anything, laios is looking at him. he knows something is coming. i think he resents chilchuck for it, too--the implication that there's anything to be said here.

we don't know at this point what chilchuck intends to say. senshi still thinks he wants to lie and intends to stop him, but i think it's clear in this moment that chilchuck has changed his mind.

he kneels--proud, all-too-aware of "how his people are treated for their size" chilchuck kneels between laios's legs. and i'm not pointing this out for horny reasons, for once.

he's bringing himself closer to laios--assuming a position associated with pleading and willingly making himself not the authority in this interaction. he believes, wholeheartedly, in what he wants to do and what needs to be said, but...

he also knows laios is hurting.

laios is... devastated. he's terrified. he's angry. but he's also still laios, and he knows chilchuck, insofar as chilchuck has allowed him to. he also respects chilchuck. so this--a teary-eyed plea to do what goes against everything he feels--gives him pause. chilchuck does not beg, and he does not cry.

...and he never talks about how he feels.

but he does, here: he doesn't want to lose his friends. and he does mean all of them, senshi included. he has three people to think of--three people whose lives he cannot in good conscience allow to be put at risk any more than they already have been. even so, he acknowledges that however laios feels about falin is probably incomparable.

but he tries to give laios hope--he gives him a plan of action. he says we will come back. he tries to impress upon laios that this isn't defeat and it isn't surrender, it's being safe. it's giving themselves an actual fighting chance at getting falin back.

laios doesn't want to... but he also doesn't say that. all the things he's feeling haven't gone away, but he's also aware of just how big this situation is if chilchuck opened himself up this way. chilchuck does not and never has done this. up until the fight with the red dragon, you could be forgiven for assuming chilchuck is just a contracted coworker who's a little fond of the party and nothing more.

senshi and leed, the only people who knew chilchuck's plan to lie to the others, don't openly acknowledge his change of heart... but they back him up. they pitch in to push laios just a little further, to get him to agree.

and it works.

so. um. episode 13 will be good i think

[ghostboyravenight]

How is chappel roan a transandrophobe?

Some of the things she’s said initially made me wary, such as the way she continuously thanks the trans community for her career but only ever specifies trans women/fems and drag queens, despite the fact that a lot of trans men/mascs, non-binary people and drag kings have also contributed a lot to her type of music genre. At the very least, if she’s going to support the trans community, it wouldn’t be hard for her to just mention trans men occasionally when a lot of our experiences overlap, because so far she’s completely erased our existence from the conversation. I was going to give her the benefit of the doubt, because I’m used to people just forgetting we exist, and I didn’t want to take away any of her support for trans women because of how important it is right now, but now I’m starting to genuinely think she doesn’t give a shit about us.

Like, she recently gave a shout out to Jason Aldean, who is a known Trump supporter and transphobe. His wife specifically talked about how she thought young girls were being forced to change their gender if they show any signs of masculinity, leading to them “mutilating” themselves, which is transandrophobia 101:

She (Aldean’s wife) also said this awEsoMe stuff:

And I’m not willing to give Chappell Roan the benefit of the doubt this time for not knowing about this, because this was a big deal in the country music scene when it happened, and was the reason Aldean got dropped from his label. Both he and his wife are openly and staunchly Republican. She could have chosen any other country music artist who isn’t an asshole to shout out, even if it is just her giving a throwback to her Missouri roots, because it’s a really bad look to shout out a known transphobe/transandrophobe, especially when she’s never shown outward support for trans men before. Forgive me for being wary of her true views on us.

It starts to put her more anti-masculinity ideas into a more sinister perspective, such as saying that men don’t make good art and that only women know how to treat women right. I brushed it off as a lesbian getting to talk about wlw stuff and I was willing to ignore those alarm bells in my head because I was happy for her, but I’m not ignoring the alarm bells anymore. Unless Chappell makes it clear that she gives a fuck about trans men, I’m not going to assume that she’s just being harmlessly ignorant.

I also saw someone say that she spent some time on a podcast equating “penis” to “man” and “vagina” to “woman” but somehow trying to insinuate that she didn’t mean that in a transphobic way, but I do not have the context for this so don’t take that as evidence yet because I’m not going to twist any context when I’ve previously called people out for doing that. Someone else who knows the context can share the details.

Point is, I’m wary of her views on trans people, especially trans men. I’m not gonna hate on people for casually listening to her, because this knowledge isn’t that well known unless you search it up and to an outsider perspective, her support for trans people seems real, but I’m just saying that I’m personally not gonna keep putting any faith in these white queer activists to fight for us, because most— if not all— have let me down.

Doechii has been shouting out the queer community just as much as Chappell, but with little of the same level of support. Kendrick Lamar did more for trans men in auntie diaries than white queer pop stars ever have. At this point I don’t think it’s a queer problem at all, it’s a white problem.

[mrscolinbridgerton96]

“The freakin’ London premiere- we all know that that was not supposed to happen; that was not okay.. and he still did it.”

I’m sorry, but what is this “bad behavior” that she’s alluding to? What exactly did Luke do that could’ve offended her and other people so much? Someone please enlighten me. I really want to know how Luke showcased “bad behavior” at the London premiere. I’m genuinely curious.. because, I personally haven’t seen anything- and I’m sure I’m not the only one who’ll say that.

~

This TikTok is 3 and a half minutes long. If you want to watch the video, go right ahead! But for those who don’t want to watch the full thing, I’m gonna give you my thoughts on just a few of the things she said in her video.

She talked about how Luke should post something on social media to show more appreciation to the fans. In multiple interviews throughout the press tour for season 3, Luke has talked about how he appreciates every ounce of support and love that has come from the fans and how he can’t wait for everyone to see Colin and Penelope finally get together. But apparently… to some (unfortunately), that’s not enough. Just because he hasn’t posted about how grateful he is for the fans, that doesn’t mean that he’s not grateful. To insinuate that he’s “inconsiderate” because he doesn’t post on social media is diabolical to me; it is not only unfair but it’s unacceptable. At the end of the day, Luke doesn’t owe us a damn thing.

The second thing I want to share my opinion on very much relates to the first thing. This girl talked about how he should post something for Nicola and publicly show his appreciation for all the times she stood up for him. To the people who have said this (and trust me, this girl is not the only one who thinks this) and believe that he’s ungrateful for her defending him.. let me ask you ask you something: did it ever cross your mind that he showed his appreciation for all the times she expressed her (platonic) love and respect for him privately? I’m sure they talk and text each other a lot. There are other ways to show someone appreciation- and it’s (to me) even more meaningful when it’s not on social media. Just because he doesn’t post about on social media.. it does NOT mean that he is unappreciative. Nicola has defended him publicly because she’s a good person and knows that he’s a good person too. There’s a reason that Luke’s cast mates (most of them he’s known for 5 years) only have good things to say about him. Yet, there are “fans” who want devote so much time and energy to talk shit about someone they don’t even know.

Lastly, and this is something I’ve addressed a few times before. She asked, and I quote, “What is the bullying that according to some of you he’s experiencing? Where is the bullying?” The way I see it; in my opinion, by asking that.. she has made it abundantly clear that she has NOT been paying attention.

I shared these screenshots back in July- they have since been removed from Twitter (I’m not calling it ‘X’ because it sounds like the name of a p*rn site). If any of this doesn’t count as bullying, then what the Hell is it? They weren’t complimenting him to lift his spirits up. He even said in an interview that he was verbally harassed for TWO YEARS because of Colin’s “I would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington” comment at the end of season 2 (even though Colin Bridgerton is a fictional character)- last time I checked… THAT’S bullying.

~

She says that she’s “holding him accountable” when he hasn’t done anything wrong. Has Luke said or done something that truly IS problematic? If he has, I would gladly hold him accountable for it. However, I haven’t seen him do or say anything that is so awful that he has to be held accountable for it.

She also talked about how A would post something when Nicola posts something- she posts something; same with when the official Bridgerton account posts something and she would overshadow Luke. You can point all of that nonsense out all you want, but Luke has NO CONTROL over what she posts on her own social media account or when she decides to post!! Regardless of how you feel about their age gap, she’s an adult who makes her own choices. She old enough to know to know right from wrong- just like the “fans” who have been harassing him for months.

One more thing, today.. she posted a TikTok about how Luke liked Nicola’s recent post and she was all giggly and excited.. with that being said, my mind is telling me one thing- that she is one of those people who only like Luke when he interacts with her on social media and/or is actually with her (whether it’s casual or in interviews). Now, I could be wrong; this is strictly my opinion- an observation, if we’re getting technical.

Overall thoughts: I know that Luke’s not a perfect human being and I never said that he was- no person living on this planet is perfect.. and I would 1000% hold him accountable if he did or said something that actually WAS problematic. But, from what I’ve seen.. he hasn’t done anything to deserve all of the negativity he’s been getting.

Now, if you’ll excuse me.. I’m gonna go take something for my migraine.

[crazy56u]

It's late, I'm bored, I wanna ramble about a thing.

So, a while back, I did that thing again where I had an art commission made (shoutout @thenovika); it never got shared on here, but it was shared on other places. And I feel like talking about it a little bit, just for kicks. And also to share the deep lore that's been burning in my head concerning it, some of which might not 100% track, but fuck it, it's my imagination, and I decide the path it takes.

To start, said commission is this:

(shifting to "Read More" mode now)

Firstly, yes, this is using "Quantum Leap Jesus Painting" as a reference.

Believe it or not, this is the last time this becomes relevant in this rant; things are gonna deviate quick here.

Secondly, this post is mainly a (very long delayed) response to some people's interpretation of what is going on in the image; namely, that Julie-Su is dead.

This was never my intention... however, admittedly, my intention is somewhat worse. Essentially, the intrusive thoughts were angry.

Let me explain: For those unaware, in the Archie comics, prior to the Big Legal Kerfluffle that resulted in the SGW reboot, Rouge was, to be blunt, a self-serving bastard, and basically didn't give a shit that Knuckles had a girlfriend.

Later on in the comic, Knuckles was going through The Shit due to briefly being evil (long fucking story) and trying to "free" people from technology and shit, and decided after everything was said and done that he needed to self-isolate.

Fast forward two issues, and Knuckles decides to return to public life... mainly thanks to Rouge wanting to further an agenda (that I don't really think gets revealed, given how the comics soon quickly fall down a cliff in terms of #shenangans and #lawsuits).

And here is where the thoughts started getting loud; Rouge could've tried to have it both ways: Get Knuckles back in to the fight, and also keep him to herself.

After all, Knuckles did have a good reason to stay away from Julie-Su after The Shit happened...

Yeah, he almost did that; stands to reason he could be convinced to keep his distance... or, rather, be convinced Julie-Su wanted to keep her distance.

Here is where the real shit kicks into gear with how this plays out in my brain: In order to play both sides (and, this is important, there is a very small window of opportunity Rouge would have her to prevent Knuckles from properly reuniting with her), Rouge confronts Julie-Su privately shortly after The Shit and, upon pushing just the right buttons (basically insinuating to her that it was her fault Knuckles went through The Shit at all), Rouge manipulates her into having that long-awaited rematch between the two of them in a private location... where she basically wipes the floor with her (she can kick Knuckles' ass just fine, this wouldn't be nothing in comparison; plus, cybernetics can be shorted out, just a tip), and knocks her out (see the first image).

Now.

You may have noticed my decision to use the phrase "play both sides".

Well, that's because that was what I was thinking of.

As much as she wanted Knuckles for herself, Rouge wouldn't kill Julie-Su directly.

She'd kill the idea of her.

She'd take her home. To a familiar face.

Who is on the record not above screwing with Julie-Su's brain to get what she wants.

(Plus, it's implied that chip never came out...)

And now also has a new partner in crime to help make the transition process smoother.

And Rouge 100% would A) know how to contact Lien-Da, B) talk her into taking part in this plan, and C) turn a blind eye to it all after the fact.

So, yes, in a very warped sense, everyone wins.

Knuckles gets to start moving on from The Shit, no longer burdened with one of the biggest reminders of how deep that went.

Rouge gets her prize.

Lien-Da gets to clear the slate and start fresh with a new ally, and a new member of the Dark Egg Legion.

And as far as everyone is concerned, Julie-Su has left for greener pastures, for her own good.

Rouge wouldn't kill Julie-Su. Not directly. Too many lost resources that way.

...but maybe it'd be merciful the other way around...

[sepublic]

            I wanna analyze part of the exchange between Luz and the Titan, because I’m seeing some people misunderstand it by claiming the show is saying that Luz doesn’t need to self-reflect because she always means well, unlike THOSE guys (Nevermind everything she and others have gone through up until this point). Maybe I’m repeating the obvious, but;

         “I’m not so kind. When I saw the Collector fly up to Belos, I hoped with all my heart I would see them blast him away, and-”

         Here we have Luz insinuating that she’s not kind, simply on account of wanting Belos dead; Nevermind the fact that she has plenty of justified reason to want gone someone who has maliciously caused her and her loved ones so much pain, trauma, and agony across so much time.

         “Hey, I can relate. I was willing to do anything to keep my kid safe. But I attacked the wrong person, dragged the Collector down here for nothing.”

         The Titan does relate to feeling shame over ugly emotions like hatred and anger, which can make people lash out; Bringing up how those feelings brought him to make a terrible mistake that would have a lasting ripple effect on the Boiling Isles up until now.

         “Does that make us as bad as Belos?”

         At which point, Luz drops the question, the false equivalency that it’s fair for her to nevertheless entertain for the sake of self-reflection; Does her and the Titan feeling anger and even hurting people over it, or planning to, make them as bad as Belos?

         “What? Have you been drinking Eda’s homemade apple blood?”

         The Titan’s skepticism over this false comparison is self-explanatory.

         “Well, Belos says he’s trying to save humanity, and we’re saying we want to save our families, so isn’t that the same thing? Don’t- Don’t these feelings come from the same place?”

         When Luz says ‘feelings’, she’s very much talking about anger, even hatred; The kind that drives people to fight and even hurt others. Belos is angry, but Luz notes that so is she, as was the Titan, and all of them claim to do this over loved ones they’re worried about, right? That’s the ‘same place’ she’s referring to.

         “Well, you assume Belos’ goal comes from a genuine place. But, that man doesn’t care about anything but his need to be the hero in his own delusion. And because of that, he fears what he can’t control.”

         That’s when the Titan clarifies the difference; The anger of the victim is not the same as the anger of the abuser. The anger of the oppressed is not comparable to the anger of the oppressor. Anger doesn’t necessarily make you the bad guy, especially when it moves people to do the right thing. Both Luz and the Titan are angry, yes; But they’re angry because they legitimately have loved ones, and themselves, who have been hurt, and are genuinely at stake here. They're still allowed to feel this way. They only want Belos dead because they can’t get him to stop hurting people, so this is the only option left to make him stop endangering others.

         Whereas Belos’ hatred is that of the colonizer; He never really had anyone at stake here. Humanity was never in any real danger, especially not Caleb, whom Philip consciously disrespects by going against everything Caleb stood for, despite Caleb having made it clear with an open-armed welcome that this would never have to exclude his love for his brother. Philip made the decision to choose a world over his brother, NOT Caleb who understood he should theoretically have both, as a parallel/foil to Luz who wants both, but is still struggling to accept she can have that.

         Dana confirmed at Pixelatl –and it’s fairly obvious even without said confirmation- that she based Belos off of televangelists, cult leaders, the conservative relative, etc. The first two especially are hardcore bigots, the kind who really double down on their prejudice, and actively make it happen on a larger scale; These are the kind of people who go past that reasonable point of being well-intentioned but misinformed about their biases.

         Yes, Luz and Belos are both angry, but Belos’ anger is that of the reactionary conservative, hence “fearing what he can’t control.” He claims to feel threatened, but unlike people like Luz who really are endangered and fighting for their lives, the only thing being threatened is Belos’ worldview of supremacy and self-righteousness, so like a lot of right-wing “morality police” and the like.

         In the end, TOH is calling out how bigotry did not start from a place of good intentions, which is fitting given Belos represents the type of OG bigot, the Puritans who were among many who made contact with the Native Americans and vice-versa; Prejudice was born as a way to justify narratives of power and control, by dehumanizing others and thus justifying their suffering and exploitation for the sake of those who ‘really’ matter. These narratives, when perpetuated, create self-fulfilling prophecies and issues that the misguided but well-meaning are concerned about, which leads them down flawed attempts to address these problems.

         This is to say people who genuinely mean well, who have been hurt and do have others at stake, can make mistakes; This very exchange reminds us that the Titan hurt the Collector, something she does nothing to justify, and something the viewers know was objectively wrong, and has deep consequences as we’re currently seeing. Luz and the Titan both contributed to the Collector falling into Belos’ hands, but while Luz was genuinely manipulated and didn’t realize what was going on, the Titan chose to lash out at a bystander because she couldn’t channel her anger successfully towards the Archivists.

         But the Titan has learned, and she’s recognized what she’s done as wrong, and she’s made efforts to undo and make up for that. And it’s important to remember how all of this was prompted by the genocide of the Archivists, who claim to be preserving life, yet destroy it when it does not heed their plans. People are still responsible on an individual level, but it’s also worth noting how the system can influence them, just as it did for Amity and Lilith. And the system was started by people who didn’t really have a system over their heads, or were rebelling against a different kind.

         It’s not as if TOH is saying you can’t mean well and make mistakes; So much of the show is about people meaning well and making mistakes, especially parents towards their children. And this is fitting since a well-meaning parent nevertheless hurting her child is the inciting incident of the series, and it’s something that is brought up and resolved in the previous episode between Luz and Camila. Hell, Luz herself understands that meaning well can hurt others, like when she kept secrets from Amity, under the guise of not wanting to burden her girlfriend.

         TOH still has plenty of examples of genuine intent leading to bad things; So it’s entirely reasonable, in this case, to bring up the original people who codified bigotry and prejudice, because being a freak and a weirdo does not happen in a vacuum, it is in relation to a society. At some point you have to discuss WHY someone is considered strange; Who designated the guidelines for the deviant, and by extension, what are the guidelines for what is ‘normal’, who decided this would be normal, and why? And that’s why the story brings these back to the settlers who made contact with the Native Americans and vice-versa, and established a precedent for prejudice towards these people.

         The point is that the show is refuting the centrist idea of Both Sides, that if you’re violent and/or angry then you’re just as bad as the oppressor, if not worse; Victims are allowed to be angry, they have a right to be upset, as Eda herself says. You can’t expect them to appeal solely by peace when that’s clearly not working out, hence Raine and Darius’ rebellions, which do necessitate violence at times, even if they’d love to minimize it and try; Which is why the finale shows the initially-cautious CATTs accepting covenscouts who are willing to change, why Kikimora is shown doing community service (and that's assuming it's not just a job given her lack of uniform; She may have been allowed to reintegrate into society as a regular citizen).

         Between the juxtaposition of the Collector hearing about how Amity and Lilith were successfully appealed to, and applying that to Belos, only for that to fail as Luz explains this individual situation is a bit more complicated… Basically, what the show is saying is that you should choose to be kind and give chances and grace, anyone can change; But people also have a right to prioritize themselves in self-defense, and just in general health, when people continue to refuse to reciprocate, and leave no other choice. Because there’s still responsibility on the other party to respond to these offers of kindness, and make the same choice to improve the world; They have free will, everyone does, and you can’t force people to be better, anymore than the Collector can force people to be their friends.

         Not to mention how victims have a right to be upset and don’t owe forgiveness, but at the same time, the concept of Restorative VS Retributive Justice argues that it’s better for the world if everyone improved; That doesn’t mean victims have to forgive or even necessarily help, because improving oneself does not rely on your victims doing you favors. It’s ultimately about harm reduction; Ideally, harm is reduced by helping people open their minds and change, but if that isn’t working and the person keeps hurting and even killing others, then yes, harm must be reduced by imprisoning, or even killing them in self-defense.

         Hence the difference in that Luz’s anger comes from ultimately wanting to reduce harm and being frustrated by those who continue to perpetuate it; Versus Belos whose anger isn’t really meant to prevent harm, but pointlessly cause more of it, because of his immature disgust towards those different, as well as the supremacy and selfishness that actively puts down others for Belos’ own sake (because Caleb isn’t allowed to have more than one person in his life, apparently).

         And note that Belos is already at the end of his life (because people only have so much time to change before it's cut short by death), because extending it requires sacrificing palismen, which goes against harm-reduction; So they can’t just imprison Belos without killing him. And in the end, the protagonists don’t prolong Belos’ misery by letting the boiling rain finish him off, they get it over with by stomping on him; Not only does this allow them to vent much-deserved anger towards an oppressor, but it cuts away any chance of Belos coming up with something last-second by just ending him right there. That reduces harm from Belos, and harm TO Belos, because his death isn’t any longer than it needs to be.

         And on Luz’s side, her not doing anything to Belos is justified because it’s about her refusing to help him, thus standing for herself and what she believes, and not letting this traumatic, gaslighting presence have any more power over her. Luz still allows her loved ones to finish off Belos; Her not responding to Belos is about reducing harm to herself.

         It’s a lot of stuff. It’s about balancing a lot of seemingly conflicting, opposite ideas, like Luz balancing two worlds; As she herself explains to the Collector, it can be “complicated.” It’s about nuance, and a case-by-case basis; Because note that the Titan doesn’t tell Luz that she will always be right because SHE always means well. Just that in this specific case, in regards to this specific guy, things are not equivalent. Hence why the Titan focuses on deconstructing Belos and not Luz. 

This moment specifically is breaking down colonial rhetoric by calling it out for what it actually is, because Belos is 100% a colonizer and this is one of the most important aspects of his character, and his contributions, to the narrative. And whatever mistakes Luz and the Titan made, at least they care enough to make up for it, because they really are trying to do this for others, instead of prioritizing an ego trip; That kind of mentality is doomed to being static. I'd argue the Titan isn't necessarily saying that Belos never cared about anyone (AKA Caleb) period, just that in the context of his 'protecting humanity' claim, he wasn't doing it for anyone because there was nobody in any actual danger, and he knows it. Philip wasn't actually concerned for Caleb's sake when he killed him.

[twilight-good-yall-dumb]

the "Little Things" disrespect ends today 0_0

I NEED y'all to lock in for a moment. I have seen one too many bad faith takes on this song, and I'm over it. SO MANY people say they don't like it because they perceive the song's message as "you're ugly and fat but it's okay because I love you despite that" and I genuinely think that take is so media illiterate! So listen up kids!

In my opinion, most of this misunderstanding comes from the singular lyric: "You still have to squeeze into your jeans. But you're perfect to me" Which I will admit, when isolated, the lyric feels a little condescending, because the word "but" seems to insinuate that having to squeeze into her jeans is an inherently bad thing, or taken further, that if he wasn't in love with her, he would see it as a flaw.

But that's where my comprehension of this take ends. Because within the context of the rest of the song, that singular lyric gains an entirely different perspective. In my personal opinion, the song's message is far more along the lines of "All these things that you tell me you hate about yourself are all just bits and pieces of who you are, and I love you, not in spite of those things, but because of those things, because they make you, you!"

My evidence? Don't worry babe, I've got loads. First of all, as many people know (and many probably resent), this song was written by Ed Sheeran. Now, if you know anything about Ed Sheeran's early music, you know that what makes his lyricism so endearing is that he has an acute sense of the people around him. On his first album especially, there are several songs in which he simply exults in small, seemingly insignificant, details about a woman. My bro Ed understands the inherent romance of being known better than anyone. And I love him for it. So with that context, I think it's pretty easy to imagine Ed writing this song in the same vain. Simply remarking on the little things he notices about a girl that she seems to be insecure about, but that he adores. Simple. Beautiful. Effective.

My other evidence? LITERALLY THE REST OF THE SONG! I mean for fuck's sake, the literal chorus goes:

"I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth But if it's true, it's you It's you, they add up to I'm in love with you And all these little things"

Not only do we get the very clear insistence that the writer loves her AND all of the "little things" but it also tells us, as I said before, that this love isn't in spite of her perceived "flaws", but rather because of them. Because it's all of these things which create the unique individual he fell in love with. I also think the line "I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth" hints that these are traits the writer is wary about bringing up to the girl, because he knows she (and perhaps society) perceives them as flaws, but he dares to voice them because he wants her to see them in a positive light!

I think it's very telling how these "little things" are often brought up by describing her opinion of them:

"I know you never loved the sound of your voice on tape You never want to know how much you weigh" or "I know you've never loved The crinkles by your eyes when you smile You've never loved your stomach or your thighs"

The writer is not assigning his own negative perception to these things, but rather pointing out how it's her who views them as flaws. In the bridge, he even says:

"You'll never love yourself half as much as I love you And you'll never treat yourself right darling, but I want you to"

This lyric confirms to me that this song is not written with the intention of getting her to overlook her "flaws" in favor of his validation. Instead it exclaims, "these things you hate about yourself are in fact the very things that I admire about you and endear me to you. I wish you could see those things in the same way I do. I want you to find validation in yourself." Which, imo, is an incredibly sweet, and even sort of progressive message coming from a man.

I think even the the original lyric I brought up can be explained in a similar way. Rather than him calling her a fatass but claiming he loves her anyway, the writer is bringing up something that she has probably expressed insecurity over: "ugh, i still have to squeeze into my jeans," and he's assuring her that even though she sees that as flaw, he does not, and loves her all the same. Which, again, I think is the entire point of the song. As the chorus explains, he is not voicing these "little things" with the intention of listing her flaws, but rather because he wants to bring attention to the details that he loves about her. He lets them slip, because he specifically wants her to understand that they are not flaws.

Even the title supports this. By calling her insecurities "little things" rather than flaws or imperfections, he inherently takes away any negative connotation. They are simply the little things that make up who she is, that complete her. This is also supported by the fact that some of the details he lists are fairly neutral. The sound of her voice, the way her hand fits in his, her freckles, going to bed with a cup of tea. None of these things carry an inherent negative societal connotation, which I think further emphasizes that a) the little things are not flaws, and b) that some of the insecurities she has wouldn't even be noticed or judged by anyone else. That she is her worse critic.

I've even noticed that in some live performances of the song, Harry specifically changes the lyric to: "You still have to squeeze into your jeans. And you're perfect to me." Probably because he wanted to assert that this songs implies the exact opposite of what so many of you insist it does!

I genuinely think people either internalized that singular line and that turned them off of the song forever or they just have a prejudice towards Ed Sheeran and chose to hate the song because he's the one who wrote it (rude). Which, if the reason you don't like Little Things is because you find it too sappy or because you don't like the melody, then whatever. And maybe this take started as a joke, but I've seen so many people reiterate it at this point, that it feels genuinely defaming to my poor baby Little Things. But if you're being serious, DON'T try and tell me this song is anything but a sweet and empowering anthem because I will fight you.

If any of their songs deserve this brand of ire, it should honestly be What Makes You Beautiful, because while this song says "you're insecure and you shouldn't be," WMYB quite literally says "you're insecure and that's what i like about you." Now THAT is a problematic message. But nooooooo the sappy one Ed Sheeran wrote is the real enemy. Sure.

[dotthings]

"Open to interpretation" does not mean you get to tell Destiel shippers how to see the canon, Karen

After the spntwit drama this week I think it matters to emphasize again how hard the antidestiel hatedom was going against how Jensen rolls when it comes to interpretation.

antidestiels continue to behave as if they believe "open to interpretation" means they themselves can dictate to other fans how to see the canon, and they call Destiel shippers and Misha "disgusting" just for speaking our viewpoints of the canon.

Destiel shippers give our take on the text and antis go "well you can't because JENSEN SAID--"

They very obviously do not listen to what Jensen says. Here is Jensen at Dencon 2021, where he pretty much clears the runway for fans to interpret however we please and his praise and appreciation for those readings: “This is the great thing about the show and I think the relationships and some of these characters is that they’re open for interpretation. If you find identity in a character because of whatever reason, fantastic! Great! If that encourages you to be a better person, or to love someone a little harder, to forgive someone for something, fantastic. That’s—that’s I think that’s one of the beautiful things about what we do is that we get to encourage people on a variety of levels.” -Jensen Ackles, DenCon October 2021

(Antis: But you CAN'T, because JENSEN SAID--)

Antis are stuck in a loop of their own making.

This is not the first time Jensen has conveyed his support for fan interpretation.

Jibcon 2015:

We also know from reports from a virtual m&g a short while after SPN ended that Jensen said he and Misha talked about the confession scene beforehand, and they "didn't want to over-define it" and "the artist isn't going to stand next to that piece of art and tell you what to see. You should be able to see, and it should be able to mean what it means to you and that's--that's the beautiful thing about art." (There is no video, this is pulled from fan reports, but as far as we know this is accurate reporting).

Antis: but you can't because Jensen SAID--

blah blah blah

Yes we can and it's not that we need Jensen's--or anyone's permission--however it's just so heinous how severely antidestiels stomp all over Jensen's respectfulness and protection of fan readings and his appreciation of that, and their lying about how he rolls. They are making very negative insinuations of him, yet somehow everyone else in fandom is the problem but them.

It doesn't add up.

"But you can't say Destiel is real and there was queer coding because JENSEN SAID--"

But Jensen said he's completely cool with how we see it.

He said so.

I have a permit. Jensen signed it. See?

Get over it. Find a new hobby. Move along.

A further thing--note my highlighting on excerpts from an interview with Jensen Ackles about Big Sky concerning the Beau/Jenny relationship. (TV Insider, 1.18.2023)

The phrasing should sound familiar.

Yes, that's right, he's used similar language to speak about Dean and Cas. And this is for a het ship.

"leave the audience wanting more" "we gave just a little bit" "but do we need to play it out in a graphic sex scene?" "a kiss wasn't necessarily needed" "let's tiptoe for now" "fired it up in a way that made it not so sexual...two humans really, truly connecting. It wasn't just like, oh, let's rip each other's clothes off."

Put that next to "I don’t think lust is involved with the romanticism" "there's some people that might try to sexualize that" "it was two sentient beings essentially" (Dencon 2021, Vancon 2022)

Isn't that interesting. (Also isn't it interesting he called it "romanticism"?)

Jensen also said something somewhere about how he would like to do a romantic comedy so long as it involves killing zombies. He doesn't hate romance. It's just that he likes genre and action stuff. He's not against, whether it's queer or straight romances.

He's also said he'd like to do a rom-com slash western playing opposite Misha Collins.

Not telling Destiel shippers what to do, but along with antidestiel misinformation spread, the Destiel lane is justly notorious for flinging accusations at him and I think it's relevant that he speaks about a het ship using similar language, and it's relevant how supportive he is of queer readings.

one last thing, this is old, from Jensen's time on Days of our Lives, but he wasn't against playing a queer character.

[cillianmurphysdimples]

DISCLAIMER - This is a fictional, fanciful, and completely non-serious fanfiction. Nothing here is based on real life at all, nor do I wish it to be. The completely made up story is entirely for fun, and not meant in any offence nor insinuation upon the lives of those 'borrowed' for this story - not in their real life or the real-world. Please do not read or engage if you are not willing or able to suspend all expectations of reality to involve yourself in the story. I fully appreciate this may not be to your tastes. I absolutely do not mind those who often read my stories completely missing this one.

WARNINGS & TAGS - for mature audiences, contains potentially offensive language and innuendo, m/m relationship, fictional ship pairing of celebrities, established m/m relationship.

Banner lovingly made by @cherrycilly

Nor Any Greater Punishment

Cillian Murphy x Christopher Nolan Fanfiction

PART TWO Cillian is lulled into a sense of security by a change in Christopher's behaviour, thinking the turmoil of their misunderstandings and words has been finally quashed. But he goes over his own concerns silently, worrying he'll see another repeat. Cillian is blindsided and embarrassed by the change of behaviour, though, when it comes.

“Okay, cut. Thank you.” Chris called out, and suddenly the stern faces of those in the scene were softened, and tightly held positions were suspended.

Cillian cleared his throat and turned to Emily with a tired but warm smile. Emily nudged him playfully against his side, “God, I actually thought you were going to laugh just then.” She chuckled, “I was poised for you to be getting into trouble with Dad!” 

Cillian rolled his eyes, shaking his head at her teasing. “Don't want that row, now.” He intoned. 

Emily's expression changed, “Was it no better off set?” She asked, though she knew well enough Cillian was not likely to give her details for the sake of conversation. She raised her eyebrows when Cillian just looked back at her wordlessly. “Sorry,” she apologised after a moment. “Not my business.” 

Cillian shook his head, “It's not that.” He insisted, glancing around him at the bodies that moved back and forth, busy with their own roles now that the cast were paused.

“I am only…checking in? The way it went yesterday, the way he spoke to you - it hit everyone, so I imagine it hit you?” Emily asked, not realising she was still pushing him to speak about his personal life by continuing to ask him. 

Cillian pushed a smile to his angular cheeks, “It's fine.” He said calmly. “He's entirely different today, isn't he? You know what it's like, and what he's like by now, Emily. Focus, don't fuck around.” He smirked. Cillian pulled up the waistband of his high-waisted grey trousers, hitching them higher over his barely there waist and hips. 

Chris' words last night were still somewhat awkwardly ambling around his mind - was he looking badly, despite this being a temporary thing? Was his image right now a problem for Chris? Was that some of the issue - that he was looking at him now and not liking the person in front of him, despite the reasons? Not to mention the entire argument regarding Robert and the workday had only really simmered down, without a genuine end or full resolution. He'd apologised, sure, but it hadn't lasted more than a few minutes before he raised his disrespectful retorts to Cillian once again. He had spent the night sleeping on the sofa - mostly because he had fallen asleep there when he'd sat down after his bath. He'd woken up to a blanket thrown over him and his phone, that had been left on the floor beside his shoes, having been plugged in. But he also woke up to the perpetuation of the atmosphere of the day before, except in the place of bad temper and aggression was the silent treatment. He was nervous and tetchy, fearful of upsetting Chris further, and desperate to fix their spat to better facilitate a happy environment all around. His texts had gone ignored - read but unanswered, he knew, as he'd seen him checking the device - and leaving the hotel room that morning had not included so much as a hand on the shoulder. 

Emily turned to Cillian with a more serious expression. “Cill, my darling, you two are on the long stretch before you are colleagues, remember that. If there's a problem that's lingering both at home and at work, then it's a problem that needs addressing. And forgive me, Cillian, but it isn't just his annoyance over a perceived lack of focus yesterday.” She raised her eyebrows, calling bullshit. “I saw your face, everyone saw it, and not one person on the cast or crew within a bloody mile could miss hearing the anger he spat. That's not a ‘Christopher Nolan being dedicated to his craft’ thing.” 

“Emily,” Cillian shook his head and his face seemed to firm up without him realising it. “I appreciate what you're trying to do, but please don't. Work is work, home is nobody's business. He knows he was wrong for yesterday, he apologised to me and to you all. So why are we dwelling on it?” 

Emily felt suitably scolded and she held out both of her hands before her, placating him. “I don't mean to intrude, Cillian. I was just trying to offer… I don't know what I was offering, I'm sorry. You're right, I shouldn't be mentioning it.” She dropped her arms and gave him a gentle and friendly smile. “But can I say one thing?” Cillian raised his eyebrows and his bother at the conversation was clear, as was him attempting to remain as charming and patient as he always endeavoured to be. “If that is the way you're spoken to in public, you'll forgive people having concerns about how you're addressed in private.” 

Cillian scoffed a sarcastic sort of laugh. “What's that supposed to mean? Our relationship is no different to yours and John's. Ups and downs, and the longer you're together the more familiar you become. He isn't verbally abusing me twenty four hours a day, and it isn't the case that I'm such a pushover, or so helpless that I wouldn't respond in kind if he did. Whatever your intentions, Emily, it doesn't matter. You're interfering and prying, and your insinuations on our relationship aren't wanted or needed.” His response was harsh, catty even, and he could see by the look on Emily's face that it had been unexpected, too. He stood for a moment and then he walked away. He knew full well it would infuriate Chris, but he walked away from the immediate set in search of the first available toilet, purely as a direction to head in, and didn't say a word to anyone as he vanished from view. 

Dumbfounded, Emily glanced around her. This sort of reaction or behaviour was definitely atypical of Cillian, and it did nothing to assuage the concerns she had been attempting to raise with him as delicately as she could. She folded her arms under her bust as Chris approached her, preparing to offer direction for what was next, and fixed her expression to as neutral as she could. “Great, so… where's…” Chris looked around, hoping to answer his own question before he'd even finished asking it. 

“Loo, I think.” Emily smiled. “He knocks back the coffee to compensate for the lack of snacks.” She joked lightly. Still looking around, Chris merely hummed in response. “What were you going to say?” She encouraged, smiling again when Chris finally stopped scanning the room and looked at her directly. 

“Better wait for him to get back,” Chris said, sounding disinterested. “Nothing worse than repeating yourself.”

“He's quiet today,” Emily said, making idle conversation and perhaps, subconsciously, ebbing away at her own concerns that weren't answered by Cillian. 

Chris frowned at her, taking her almost-question as an observation - and a blatant one at that. “When is he loud?” He countered with a little humour.

Emily smiled, “Quieter than usual.” She elaborated. “I really think it's draining him at this point, Chris, the diet he has himself on.” She didn't want to raise what she had been braver breeching with Cillian - Chris' reactions yesterday had told her that she wouldn't like the reaction she would be met with if Chris took the same offence that Cillian had. 

“Well, don't suggest he eats anything more substantial,” Chris said, eyes cast down to the battered script in his hands. “It'll only start a fire.” 

“Speaking from experience?” Emily kept a little lightness in her voice as she took the opportunity to push further, despite her reservations, seeing as Chris had volunteered some detail himself. But he didn't reply - whether that was in ignorance or not actually hearing her in his focus on the papers before him, she wasn't sure - and the moment was then lost as Cillian walked back into the set, followed by someone yelling out to Chris the inform him of Cillian's return. 

Chris looked up and turned his head to his left as Cillian approached. “Three bathroom trips in two hours is remarkable.” He said with his eyebrows raised just slightly. But he had a small smile on his lips, and part of Cillian wondered if this was him applying his own rule for the workplace. If it was, it was a good sign, but it didn't erase the silence of the night and morning. Cillian knew it needed a real resolution, and soon, because he was exhausted by it all. 

“As is one in nine hours,” Cillian mumbled his calm reply, and Chris smiled. 

And then, to Cillian's shock, Chris silently broke his own rule as he reached out his left hand and softly laid it against the small of Cillian's back. Though he melted into the touch, Cillian was overwhelmed by it - and he suspected it was his publicly displayed apology for the day before. He'd embarrassed him before all of these people, and he assumed that now this was Chris applying a salve to that in the same public way. Or was it his sorry for the unresolved end to their discussion last night? Cillian made a note in his exhausted mind that he would ask him at the end of the day - assuming that if he was spoken to to reply, it meant things were on the mend, and if he was ignored, it too would provide an answer. Or, Cillian wondered in a strange twist, was Chris now staking his claim over him in the wake of him having been talking to Emily? Was he jealous of anyone who blinked in his direction, for fear it'd turn his head? He was going to be working with Matt for the next two days, would he be next on the chopper? The thought made his stomach drop agonisingly with anxiety. Cillian looked at the side of Chris face - despite his hand against him still, he was looking at Emily and not at Cillian - and tried to work out why he couldn't work him out recently. 

“Right, anyway, happy with that…” Chris launched into mild praise before he informed them of what was happening next. He kept his hand on Cillian's back for the duration of his speech. “...okay?” He looked first at Cillian, then at Emily. “Happy with that?” 

“Grand.” Cillian replied quietly. As Cillian answered, Chris drew back his hand. It still felt significant, the gesture, and the why of it was eating hard into Cillian's mind. He didn't like the ambiguity of it - he reserved that for the work he did. 

“Okay, well, we'll call you when we go ahead.” Chris said, folding the stack of papers in his hands. “Maybe no more coffee?” He tapped the rolled papers against Cillian's shoulder as he turned and walked away. 

In Chris' absence, Cillian stood awkwardly for a few, tense moments. Then he reached out his right hand and touched into Emily's bicep. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have given out to you like that.” 

Emily gave a small smile, “I appreciate the apology, Cill, and I was really only trying to check in with you.” 

Cillian nodded earnestly as he pulled back his hand, “I know, and thank you. But everything is fine.” He wondered if he said it out loud, convincing himself of the same would be easier. 

Cillian returned to the hotel room that evening before Chris did, despite Chris having disappeared into thin air before Cillian had even left the set to get changed. He found the place in the same state it was left that morning - that is to say there was no sign that Chris had been back ahead of him. He set his shoulder bag down onto the sofa and toed off his Converse. It felt warm, even with the low blowing air conditioning, and with it being mid-evening. Cillian took his phone from his back pocket and glanced at it quickly, wondering if there was any indication about his whereabouts in a message from Chris. Alas, there was nothing from the man at all. His notification bar was littered with messages, emails, and a couple of calls he needed to return, but it was all ignorable for the time being. He drew his messages and tapped out a text.

I'm back at the hotel. Didn't see where you went. Are you meeting with Matt ahead of tomorrow? - Cill.

The reply came more swiftly than Cillian would have expected. No sooner had he pushed the phone back into his back pocket did he need to draw it out again as it vibrated fiercely. Swiping the lock screen, he opened the text.

Hotel bar with Matt now. Join us?

The message was short but, as with yesterday and with the exchanges on set today, Cillian didn't find any clipped tone within it. He considered the offer for a moment and knew that his immediate response would be no, but he wondered, too, if this was yet another olive branch. The row had been silly, it had dragged on unnecessarily, and the sofa last night was not a sleeping spot he wanted to repeat.

See you shortly. - Cill.

Cillian didn't bother to change his clothes - he'd barely even had them on all day - and he left his bag behind. He shoved his feet awkwardly back into his Converse and headed out of the door, unsure which version of Chris he would be met with. He expected the social version of him - best foot forward without falseness - who engaged with the people he worked with, similar to what he'd shown with Emily earlier that day. He only hoped that it meant it would continue once there were no others around, and they were alone inside their room again later on.

The hotel bar was respectfully quiet; more empty tables than occupied, low jazz music, lights that belonged in an art gallery with their industrial appearance, and bar staff dressed in black shirts with golden ties. Chris' shape was instantly recognisable as Cillian walked into the space, and he occupied a table with Matt in quiet conversation. Part of Cillian felt as though he were about to be stepping into an atmosphere that wasn't his, that he was intruding on their conversation, but he reminded himself that the invitation had been extended and Chris, for the best part of a decade, had been his partner in all things. He walked to the table with his fingers flicking nervously together at his sides, and paused in the space between Chris and Matt's respective chairs.

“Cillian, hi,” Matt greeted him immediately, a bright cheeky smile dragging his cheeks right beneath his eyes. “Good to see you again.” He got to his feet quickly, and extended his hand.

Cillian shook the offer hand cheerfully, “Yeah, you too.” He smiled. It hadn't been a long stretch since their last meeting, but long enough for Cillian to need to take a little time to adjust to the social changes. As Matt pulled his hand back and returned to his seat, Cillian set his hand instead down against Chris' back, between his shoulders, and was silently nervous to see whether the gesture would be dismissed. Chris' rule about their relationship had always applied only to work, but he wondered - frequently - if that meant work related meet-ups, especially now, especially with the odd dynamic of the past couple of days. But he wasn't dismissed - Chris instantly turned his head and greeted Cillian with a warm smile.

“You want a drink?” Chris offered, gesturing towards the bar.

Cillian nodded, “I'll sort it. You two okay, or can I get you anything?” Matt held out his hand, shaking his head politely, but Chris nodded, gesturing towards his near empty glass of red wine. Cillian drew his hand away from Chris' back, and moved away towards the bar.

“That weight loss is staggering.” Matt commented quietly, shaking his head. “And the hair!”

“He's immersive, you know this.” Chris replied, turning his head to look at Cillian's back as he stood at the bar. His clothes hung on his slim frame awkwardly, but Chris found himself wandering his eyes over Cillian's neck and the bend of his jaw as he turned his head slightly to talk to the bar staff, areas his lips frequently travelled.

“I know, but when you said he had taken it on well, I wasn't expecting him to look emaciated.” Matt laughed, and Chris brought his head back around to look at him. “Florence is around soon, yes?” He asked.

“In a couple of days.” Chris nodded his head and raised his glass to swallow what remained.

“I understand there's a lot of trepidation about a few things.” Matt seemed amused once again, and this time Chris smiled along with him. “On Florence's side?”

“The intimacy coordinator is experienced, as are Florence and Cill,” Chris shrugged his shoulders. “I don't anticipate any issues arising.” He frowned as he said the words, and smirked as Matt did. Grown men through they may have been, innuendo can still be fiercely entertaining. Chris would never voice that it was scenes like that, though written at his own hand, that were the worst for him despite it making a good point of his film. He had no desire to see his partner simulating sex with anyone, and it was irrelevant to him what sex they were. He did not wish to see it at all, but he knew that he would be expected - including those expectations of himself - to not allow himself to react at all. Given the turmoil of the last few days, he knew that he owed Cillian that respect, that quash of his jealousy and insecurity, even knowing that those feelings were unfounded.

Cillian rejoined the table, a glass of wine and a half pint of Guinness in hand, and seated himself in the available chair between Chris and Matt. Conversation flirted around what to expect the next day for over an hour before it turned to general chat - Matt shared stories of his family, amusing Chris and Cillian no end, and as Chris shared stories from previous sets, Matt found himself daunted by some of the tales of behaviour by notes celebrities he wouldn't have expected.

“Yeah, well,” Chris held out his empty palms as Matt shooknhis head in disbelief. “You never know a person until you're a, living with them, or b, working with them for long and arduous periods.”

“How do you two not kill each other?” Matt teased.

Cillian smirked, and raised his eyebrows in surprise when Chris actually went on to offer an answer. “Oh, we get close occasionally. But isn't that a good thing?” He asks. “If you're not arguing, that's when the problems truly exist. If you're apathetic about something, and you don't fight to make a point or fix it, then you mustn't care?” Cillian tilted his head slightly, touched by the meaning of the words and still a little taken aback that Chris had actually given, in a roundabout way, an inch into their relationship.

“Very good point,” Matt agreed quickly, “It's the lack of wanting to put that effort in, even to argue about your feelings, that points to serious problems.” he slipped at his drink, then set down the glass. “Do you though?” He asked, “Especially right now, on this project. Do you get to a point when you've had enough of one another and need some space.”

“Of course,” Chris replied, and Cillian nodded his head at the same time. “Cillian, if he's got the energy, will put in his earphones and go for a run. For me, it's getting out for a change of scenery or company. Short break, and it just resets the…I don't know, sense of autonomy, sense of self, enabling you to come back together and not want to claw the other’s eyes out.” He smirked.

Cillian nodded his agreement again, “Without working together too, though, there's less need. Rarely, when our projects are separate like they more frequently are, is there so much need to be away from one another. And I suppose, being busy with this, when we get back we do still have conversations because we're not constantly in immediate, close proximity. But there are days when I suppose we still need a break.” He shrugged and smirked as Chris raised his eyebrows in food humour. “Do you feel the same at home?” He asked Matt.

Matt nodded instantly, “Oh yeah. I mean, if we've spent days and days in one another company without breaks, then you're right you just need a bit of time, a bit of space, to then come back together and enjoy one another again.”

“It's the same with any type of relationship, I would assume?” Chris broadened the conversational line. “Colleagues, siblings, parents, close friends…” he elaborated. “Too much of a good thing is still too much.” Cillian suspected that Matt and Chris may have had a drink or two before the one he had walked in on, as Chris became more open over his short time sitting along with them. He was not opposed to an inebriated Chris, not at all, but he knew from past experiences that Chris' own rules of privacy were often abandoned during prolonged sessions of alcohol consumption, even when Cillian could drink double his level and be merely skirting around drunkenness.

“I'm not sure,” Matt raised a single eyebrow, “I've never found too much work to be too much, too much roast potatoes…” he joked, earning a laugh from Cillian.

“Too much trust is dangerous, though, isn't it?” Chris asked. “Or too much forgiveness? Or what about too much perpetuation of a behaviour you know to garner unwanted results.”

Matt frowned, “Such as?” He asked.

Chris shifted his chair. He leaned his forearms against the table and still managed to gesticulate with his hands as he spoke. “If something you did frequently bothered your wife, and it was discussed and you were aware of it bothered her, but you perpetually repeated those behaviours, that would be too much of a thing. Yes?” Cillian frowned as Chris spoke, not sure if he was actually making a point or if his assumptions from a moment ago were right and Chris was, indeed, sailing close to three sheets to the wind. “If you repeatedly addressed your wife over an issue, say, that she and you had already dealt with, but you kept reminding her of this issue and of how she should right it, should she simply allow you to perpetuate that issue despite the presumed resolution, or should she be allowed to feel like you were….too much?”

Cillian knew instantly what he was getting at - suddenly all the softness of Chris on set and upon his arrival here at the bar seemed performative and Cillian felt like he had been cast back into the mood of the night before, and of the morning, wherein Chris and he hadn't spoken because Chris couldn't stand that Cillian had mentioned something linked to their argument when Chris had deemed it over. Cillian wanted the ground to open up and swallow him as Matt frowned back at Chris, a little lost, and then looked to Cillian for a guide as to what was happening. “Chris.” Cillian said in a low tone.

Chris looked at him, brows crooked. “What?” Cillian said nothing.

Matt laughed nervously, “Well, I don't know…” he said, eyeing Cillian. “It would depend on the issue and the resolution. If the resolution wasn't enough, maybe it needs readdressing. If there was time passed between, a conversation change or something, and the issue was brought back up…” he turned down the corners of his mouth. “I suppose she would be inclined to be pissed off at me for uprooting something that was put to bed.”

Chris pointed his right index finger towards Matt, and nodded his head sharply. “Exactly, my friend. Uprooting something that was put to bed. Ergo, too much.” He smirked, and once again Matt laughed with a shred of awkwardness.

Cillian's face was firm, though, and his eyes were fixed in a fierce stare on Chris' face. He lifted his glass, drained what remained, and placed the glass back onto the table as he rose to his feet. “I'm going to…” he jerked his head to the right, towards the bar entrance. “I'll see you tomorrow, Matt. Goodnight.” He said politely.

“Cillian?” Chris reached out his hand and captured Cillian's wrist as he took a step away from the table.

“Stay,” Cillian said in a falsely calm voice. “I wouldn't want to be too much.” He raised his brows quickly, sharply, and dropped them again as he jerked his arm from Chris' hand. He walked on without another word, and he left an atmosphere behind him that he didn't have to remain in.