#you don’t get to make that choice for someone else

[niniwritesxo]

‘we’re teaming up’

nam-gyu x fem reader

summary:

as a smart kid you used to tutor a lot of troubled kids back in the days, what happens when one of them happens to save your life?

——————————————————————————

The announcement of the third game came with chilling simplicity: “The next game is Mingle, you must find someone and pair up. Those unpaired at the end of the timer will be eliminated’

The room exploded into chaos as players scrambled to secure their survival. You stood at the edge of the room, your mind racing. You had made it through the first two games alone, keeping your head down and avoiding alliances. But now, that strategy was useless. You needed someone.

Nam-gyu leaned against a far wall, watching the chaos unfold with his usual air of disdain. He wasn’t worried. People always gravitated toward him, whether it was out of desperation or because they believed his confident smirk meant he had a plan.

He scanned the room lazily, sizing up potential partners. Then his gaze landed on you.

His stomach twisted.

It had been years, but he recognized you instantly. You were his old tutor, the one who had spent hours trying to drill knowledge into his thick skull. The one who constantly called him out for cutting corners, for cheating, for thinking charm could get him everything he wanted.

He hated you for it.

You had always looked down on him, he thought bitterly, like you were better than him just because you were smarter. Seeing you here, desperate and vulnerable, stirred something ugly inside him.

“217,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Of course, you’d end up here.

Nam-gyu’s gaze followed you as you moved cautiously through the crowd, trying to find a partner. You were struggling, your wary demeanor making it clear you didn’t trust anyone. The timer was ticking down, and it was obvious you were running out of options.

He should feel satisfied, he thought. Watching you squirm like this, it was almost poetic.

But then he saw two larger players cornering you, their voices low and menacing. You tried to stand your ground, but they weren’t backing off.

Nam-gyu clenched his jaw.

He didn’t owe you anything. If anything, he should be glad to see you fail. But as much as he hated you, the thought of watching you get eliminated like this, scared, cornered. It made him sick.

“Damn it,” he muttered, pushing off the wall and making his way toward you.

The two players looked up as Nam-gyu approached, his expression dark. “Back off,” he said sharply.

One of them sneered. “What’s it to you?”

Nam-gyu smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You really want to waste time on this when the clock’s ticking?”

The two players exchanged glances before backing off, muttering curses under their breath.

You stared at Nam-gyu, stunned. “Why—”

“Don’t,” he snapped, cutting you off. “Don’t make this into something it’s not.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer. “We’re teaming up,” he said bluntly. “Not because I want to, but because I’m not stupid enough to let someone else grab you first.”

You bristled, your pride warring with your survival instinct. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Good,” he said coldly. “I didn’t want to give it.”

The loudspeaker blared: “One minute remaining.”

You hesitated, your gaze searching his face. For a moment, you thought he might let you go, might walk away and leave you to fend for yourself. But then his grip tightened, and he pulled you toward the center of the room.

When the timer hit zero, you found yourself paired with Nam-gyu.

When the round ended Nam-gyu didn’t bother to look at you as he walked out of the small room, his expression unreadable. But as much as he hated you, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that saving you had been the right choice.

[hyperfocusthusly]

Lifelines

——-

Tommy had been staring at his phone, typing out a message, an apology, anything. He always ends up deleting it. Over and over, so when it actually rings in his hand he almost drops it. The news hits him like a train, pushes everything else to the background.

His sister is dead. Her and her husband, car accident, didn’t stand a chance.

The flight is bad, the funeral worse and then someone from social services shows up with a baby he met once when she was newborn and only really recognises from pictures. The woman hands him a 6 month old child and explains that this is what they wanted. The will stipulated that he would be their guardian in such a circumstance.

He stares at her tiny face. She stares back.

He shuts the door and wonders how anyone could think this was the right choice.

——-

He has to tell his Captain. He chooses to tell Lucy. He distinctly chooses not to tell anyone else.

——-

Babies are hard, as it turns out. There’s no room for grief with an insistent baby taking up every waking second. No rest from being relentlessly needed. No telling her she’d be better off without him.

He thinks about calling.

While he watches her crawl down his hallway after a woodlouse, pointing insistently, letting out an excited little “ah!” as the bug in question scuttles under the shoe rack. She follows it carefully, watching with an intense curiosity that makes something churn deep inside Tommy’s chest.

He thinks about calling.

The first time she gets a fever and won’t settle unless she’s upright on his chest. It’s not the first time Tommy has gone 24 hours without sleep but it feels worse. His nerves scraped raw from her distress. His hand on her back counting her breaths over and over. He thinks about calling.

But what could he possibly say?

——-

The secrecy works until it doesn’t. Until the morning that Chimney is stood in the local doctor’s car park watching Tommy, darker eyed and more scruffy, strap an 8 month old into a seat in the back of his truck. Tommy doesn’t see him, or hear Jee whisper “is that Uncle Tommy daddy? Is that his baby?”

——-

It’s how Chimney ends up stood outside of Tommy’s door one lunchtime. He isn’t home but Chimney knows he needs to wait. He knows what trying to handle a baby that age by yourself is like.

When Tommy gets home and sees who is waiting for him Chimney has to give him credit for actually pulling into the driveway rather than continuing in the opposite direction.

Tommy gets out of the car, Chimney doesn’t miss the moment he takes to collect himself before looking up to him.

“What are you doing here Howie?” He sounds ragged.

“Just checking in, two months is too long, I’m sure someone owes someone a beer.”

He goes for light hearted, trying to ease out some of the tension that has appeared in Tommy’s stance. He is hovering by the back door of his truck, fingers tucked into the door handle, endlessly thankful that she closed her eyes and fell asleep on the drive home. Something hovers in the air between them until Chimney takes a step forward.

“I saw you at the doctor’s last week.” Tommy’s brows crease slightly, then pull back as he realises what Chimney is actually telling him.

“Are you going to hide her from me forever?” Tommy looks relieved somehow, less trapped. He shakes his head and carefully takes her out of the car. Settling her into the crook of his arm and pulling her diaper bag over his shoulder.

“I don’t really drink beer too much anymore.”

“A coffee then?”

“Yeah.” He swallows nervously, tries not to let the implications of this meeting, and the conversation he knows is coming, get to him. “I could do with a coffee.”

—-

[read on A03]

Tagging some people who interacted with my abstract post about this (hope you enjoy!🫶🏻);

@leashybebes @beanarie @accefan-blog @big-urchin-energy @loucifersbitch @fyrehose @evansbuck-ley @sad-girl-hours23 @certifiedbisexualdisaster @theweewooshow @beckym2001 @kinardevans

And also some beloved pals;

@bidisasterevankinard @rubydaiquiri @sweaters-and-silly @apassingbird @sunnywithachanceofbi @theotherbuckley @desert--moonchild @comfortingevanbuckley @livelaughlou @epiphainie @actuallyitsellie @typicalopposite @wikiangela @bi-bi-buckleys @littlepaws9 @ohithankyou

[grandline-fics]

id like to request something - desperate kiss prompt with kid💗 love how you write him hihi

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Desperate Kiss

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Kid

WORDS: 822

A/N: Thank you for the request! I also didn't realise it's Kid's birthday until I was finishing this. I hope you like what I came up with for Kid and this particular prompt

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

Kid was always so self-assured, confident to the point some would call it arrogance. He was a true pirate, he wasn’t going to just roll over and let someone else take something he wanted. He also wasn’t going to just give up on pursuing something he wanted because someone was there first. Life was too short in his eyes to live anything but how he wanted and he did it unapologetically. Kid thought he was unshakable and never considered himself capable of hesitation. Then you had to come along and throw a wrench into his perception and the worst part? You had no idea what you did to him and with every passing moment of being around you he felt like he was slowly losing grip on the situation and going mad. 

On the calm, dark waters the Victoria Punk idly sailed through Kid had settled into his watch for the night. Knowing how bored Kid could get you decided to join him at least for a little while. To pass the time you shared a drink and idly chatted, mostly reminiscing about past adventures and tavern brawls. Which led you to talk about the most recent trip on shore that had gotten out of hand. 

“That poor guy didn’t have a clue what was happening.” You laughed with a small shake of your head. “Did you really have to punch him with your metal hand though?”

“Why not? Fucker had it coming.”

“Maybe it was the drink I had that night but I can’t remember him really doing anything to warrant a fight until everyone got involved.” You tired to focus your memory but still nothing came to mind. “I mean one minute he was boasting about his own crew then you appeared.”

“You forgot the part he tried to recruit you to his crew.” Kid explained and you gasped, reaching out to grab Kid’s arm as the memory sharpened. 

“That’s right!” You laughed, how could you have forgotten? Then you grinned broadly. “Were you scared I’d be sweet-talked into switching crews?”

“Don’t be a moron.” Kid scoffed, doing nothing to move away from your touch. “I wasn’t letting some nobody think he could take what’s mine.” Your smile stretched at Kid’s choice of words. You were part of the crew long enough to interpret what he’d been trying to say. You were his crew, a member of his family and he was a very possessive person and violently protective of the things that were important to him. To think his motivations went beyond looking out for a member of his crew wasn’t even in your mind to consider. 

“That’s what makes you the best Captain there is.” You smiled before finishing your drink. With a sigh you got up from your seat, taking his empty mug into your hand as well. Kid watched you carefully, his mouth falling into a scowl as he realised you were turning in for the night and he still had a handful of hours to endure a boring watch. You spotted his sour expression and mistook it for the earlier topic of conversation. Playfully you rolled your eyes and leaned down, pressing a kiss against your Captain’s forehead. “Promise I’m not going anywhere Captain. Stop worrying okay?”

You smiled and as much as you wanted to head straight to bed, you instead began to head for the kitchen to leave off the mugs you’d both been drinking from. The last thing you wanted was a lecture from Killer about the deck being left in a mess needlessly. Behind you, you could have sworn you heard Kid mutter ‘fuck this’ and thought he was cutting the rest of his watch short because of of how quiet it was. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that so it wasn’t entirely unexpected. What was unexpected though was when you heard his rushed footsteps drawing closer. As you reached for the door to the galley you were sharply turned and your back pushed against the solid wooden door. “Kid, what the-”

Before you could finish your question, Kid’s hand secured itself against your hip and his lips pressed hungrily and eagerly against yours. Fuelled purely by the desperate need for you to see him as more than just a Captain and desperate for you to finally see how he felt about you he couldn’t help but act the way he had. Against your lips, his arrogant grin crept in when he heard you drop the mugs in your hands as your mind caught up to what was happening. As the clattered loudly against the floor, you grabbed his arm and the back of his neck, returning the kiss at last with equal need. Inwardly he berated himself for doubting himself and hesitating making a move, because had he known kissing you would be like this he would have done this a long time ago.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut

[heesterical]

Birthday wishes - Heeseung.

Pairing : Heeseung x F!Reader.

Synopsis: It’s your birthday and you wanted to spend it with Heeseung but he's busy, so you hang out with your friends instead. However, when you reach home, there’s a surprise waiting for you.

Genre: Fluff. Hurt(?)-comfort.

Wc: 1.2k.

Note: rewrote this omg, the old one was hellish to read but it's cute

Birthdays are special.  

To some, it’s the one day of the year they allow themselves to indulge, to feel truly seen and appreciated. To others, it’s just another day.

But when something — or someone — important is missing, it’s like your heart is searching, and even a special day feels a little less whole without it.

You don’t mean to sound ungrateful, of course. 

You had tried to push it aside, focusing on your friends, your laughter, and the small distractions that kept you moving. Yet, as the day wound down and you returned home, the emptiness returned with vengeance.

“It’s just a birthday,” You mutter, fumbling for your keys. “I’ll get to  spend time with him soon, and it won’t even matter.”

Being an idol meant dedicating your whole time and life to your career; which you understood.

You understood, but it still sucked. 

It sucked that whenever you were free, he wasn’t. 

It sucked when you text or call him, he’s usually busy enough to not be able to respond until later.

It sucked that you couldn't go on dates with each other freely, that you can’t flaunt your relationship openly. 

And it definitely sucked that you were standing in front of your door and sulking to yourself, when you should be going in and winding down for the night.

You had been putting up with your friends teasing all day about how you were ‘moping around because you missed your boyfriend.’ You roll your eyes at the memory, unlocking the door, and walking in.

And immediately get a sense that something is off.

You grope at the wall trying to locate the light switch, while trying not to trip over the welcome rug that, in hindsight, seems like a bad choice.

You scan the space in front of you-or whatever you can see of it anyway, from the dim hallway light streaming in through the glass pane above the door. Nothing seemed to be out of place, but the brief moment of feeling like someone else was inside makes you uneasy.

You weren’t exactly the bravest person. Especially so when you were alone. And in the dark. Which you were right now.

You feel your finger brush the switch and you slightly sigh in relief, flicking the light on, when you suddenly feel an arm around your waist and-

“Boo.”

You shriek hearing the low voice in your ear, swinging your hand around, nailing the intruder right in the jaw amidst your freak out, not registering the familiar touch and voice.

“OW! Hey!”

You hear an all too familiar yelp and voice of protest as you swing around, looking up- only to see a frowning Heeseung rubbing at his face, his other hand held up in surrender as you gape at him.

“It’s me- it’s just me. Calm down.”

You continue staring at him, wondering what the fuck was going on.

“Calm down?” you demand in a breathy voice, your hand on your chest as you attempt to calm your raging heartbeat.

“You- you rascal! You nearly scared me to death!” You swat at him, chasing him inside as he desperately tries to get away from your flailing fists.

Heeseung bolts behind the couch, a mischievous grin plastered on his face as he shifts from side to side, evading your attempts to corner him. “I finally got you back for all of your jumpscares~” he teases, ducking as you swipe at him.

Then, with a dramatic flair, he adds, “I mean, you scream like you’re auditioning for a horror movie. Should I be worried?”

You pause for a moment to snatch up a pillow before turning to him. “Oh, you’re so done!”

Before he can dodge, you launch the pillow straight at his head. It lands with a satisfying thwack!, leaving him sputtering and laughing as he raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to surprise you.”

He doesn’t really sound sorry, so you march forward instead, grabbing the fallen pillow and pounding him with it as he laughs, falling onto the couch and pulling you with him.

“I really don’t know whether I want to kiss you or to shove you off a bridge right now.” You glare at him, wiggling in an attempt to get away from his hold.

“Can I pick?” He asks, a cheeky smile on his face, as you try to struggle out of his embrace, but he chuckles, tightening his hold on you, just watching you put up a fight.

“What are they feeding you?”

“What?”

“How are you so strong?” you grumble, visibly giving up and going limp in his arms. He laughs at your reaction, leaning down to whisper in your ear,

“Happy birthday, love.”

His hold on you gentles, and his eyes are so warm and fond that you can't stop the smile that tugs at your lips.

You know what you wanted to do with him now. 

You wanted to kiss him.

So you did - leaning up and pecking his lips once, twice and thrice; and pull away to look at him. But he pulls you back to him again, kissing you slowly, his hands sliding up your back and into your hair.

You sigh a little against his lips, the last of the emptiness ebbing away.

Slowly, you two pull away from each other, grinning. He presses a soft kiss to your chin before he shifts you to the couch, getting up. “Come on,” he says, taking your hand in his and pulling you up, even as you protest weakly.

He leads you to the kitchenette attached to the living area, an open cake box with unlit candles sitting on the counter, and you feel a nervous flutter in your heart. 

“You planned this, didn’t you?” There is no bite to your accusation, “you said you weren’t free today!”

He doesn’t answer, merely shrugging in response as he lights up the candles. 

“Happy birthday, Y/n.” He wishes you again, holding the cake up so you could make a wish and blow the candles.

You grin at him, happy that your wish came true even before without wishing it in front of a birthday candle.

You close your eyes, making another wish and blow out the candle, very much amused at how excited he looks.

You open your mouth to thank him for the cake, when he suddenly swipes his finger on your cheek. You immediately realise what he had done and gasp.

“Heeseung!”

He cackles in response. He’s managed to get you twice within the last half hour, and he’s delighted.

You reach out to grab him but he ducks away as you take some cream yourself, ready to return the favour.

You two chase each other again, smearing cake over the other’s face when you grab him around the waist and rub your face against his cheek, laughing as the frosting gets on your clothes.

You two stop fooling around for a few moments, just laughing and holding each other, his arms around your waist and yours on his shoulders.

“Thank you for today.” You whisper, smiling goofily, very much happy compared to how you had returned home. He always managed to make you smile and now seeing the big grin he gave you warmed your heart. You lean in and kiss him again softly.

With frosting on your face and a smile stretching your cheeks, you realized that sometimes, it’s not the day itself that’s special—it’s the people who make it unforgettable.

Can someone uber me my very own Heeseung, please?

Enhypen Masterlist.

[sky-scribbles]

Party Banter with Rook!Blackwall

Harding: You know, for a moment back there, I thought you might actually get through to Solas.

Thom: Regret’s something we have in common. I thought… if I reached out to him, told him I understood what guilt drives you to do…

Harding: But no. ‘Do not compare your regrets with mine, Thom Rainier!’

Thom: He’s right, though. He can at least say he did his crimes trying to stop tyrants. I did mine for coin.

Harding: Uh, yeah, and then you faced up to it and decided no one else was going to get hurt for it except you. Solas is right. He’s nothing like you.

—

Lucanis: Do we have a problem, Warden Rainier?

Thom: You kill people. For gold.

Lucanis: I do. Venatori. Blood mages. The political rivals of those who hired me.

Thom: And that’s enough for you? Someone flashes a purse, and you’re ready to murder over some nobles’ spat over which of them gets the bigger fancy house?

Lucanis: Depends on the size of the purse.

—

Bellara: Um, so, about the mayor of D'Meta's Crossing? I just… do you really want someone like that? In the Wardens, I mean.

Thom: I won’t defend him. But he wouldn’t be the first Warden who let innocent people die for gold, and got another chance from the Order.

Bellara: He doesn’t deserve it. Like, really, really doesn’t deserve it.

Thom: No. Neither did I.

—

Thom: Do you ever get people trying to bribe you? To look the other way, or drop a case, or...

Neve: It's Minrathous. If I took even half the bribes I've been offered, I could buy an estate in Hightown.

Thom: It takes a special kind of strength to resist that.

—

Thom: I got a letter from Sera the other day. Don’t ask me how she got it to the Lighthouse.

Harding: ‘Friends’, I bet. And hey - she dealt with the Fade for you! So what'd she say?

Thom: Well, there was a lot of calling Solas a shite-faced arseknuckle. And then she told me not to get killed, or she’d yank my beard ‘til my head came off.

Harding: Aw.

—

Lucanis: Rainier, I do not knife civilians. Everyone I have killed has been embedded in politics. Their hands are never clean.

Thom: And you're sure you’ve never made a mistake? Never got a passer-by or a child caught in all the blades and arrows? Never gone in without knowing everything, and got someone hurt?

Lucanis: Of course not. I’m a professional.

Thom: You’re a mercenary with a cape.

—

Thom: You could’ve left Dock Town. A mage. Talented. You could’ve gone anywhere, chased a better life.

Neve: If I left, I’d be abandoning people who never got that choice. I’m good where I’m at.

Thom: I hope you know how admirable that makes you.

Neve: Not that admirable. If I got that estate in Hightown? Too far to walk to Hal’s fish stand.

Thom: (laughs) Good priorities.

—

Davrin: So, Rainier. Heard a lot of rumours about how you joined the Wardens.

Thom: (uneasy noise) You know, Warden Blackwall told me your past gets forgotten after the Joining.

Davrin: A nice ideal, but it never stands up to the gossip. But you’ve shown your worth.

Thom: Enough for me to have one of those griffons when we rescue them, d’you reckon?

Davrin: (laughs) We’ll see.

—

Thom: I knew someone like Manfred once. He was a spirit, but he sort of… grew his own body.

Emmrich: Oh! A spontaneous incarnation! Do you happen to know what kind of spirit he was?

Thom: Uh… the kind that looks like a young man, but reads minds and flits about trying to make everyone feel better about themselves?

Emmrich: Ah, Compassion! A rather more advanced emotion than Curiosity, and therefore capable of manifesting a physical body, rather than needing to adopt a vacant one.

Thom: More advanced? Right. That explains why Cole used to talk to me about living with the weight of regret, and Manfred spent ten minutes yesterday poking my face to see if my beard came off.

—

Neve: So, you know Dorian?

Thom: Does anyone who’s been in the same room as him for thirty seconds get a choice about knowing Dorian?

Neve: And didn’t always get along, I take it.

Thom: He’s… he’s not so bad. We might’ve judged each other by first impressions back when we met.

Neve: And what’s your impression now?

Blackwall: Still too fancy for his own good. But it says exactly who he is that he’s fighting against slavers and blood mages. I think I got the better deal with the darkspawn.

—

Taash: I heard the Inquisitor turned into a dragon.

Thom: No, she… didn’t. But she did get one to fight with us once.

Taash: She did? What kind? How’d she do it?

Thom: Sort of… gold? And she drank from this pool of elven magic, and… that somehow let her ask it to help us. I think.

Taash: Did she ride it into battle?

Thom: Uh… No.

Taash: Oh. I would’ve ridden it into battle.

—

Thom: Emmrich, do you know what those demons were the other day? The ones that wouldn’t leave me alone?

Emmrich: Ah. Those were manifestations of Shame. A variant of the Despair spirit.

Thom: Right. Don’t know what I expected.

Emmrich: If it’s any consolation, I find that one can tell much more about a person from the more benign spirits that gather around them. I catch glimpses of them about you often. Valour. Fortitude. Honour.

Thom: I hope to be worthy of them.

—

Thom: Lucanis, have you ever regretted any of your kills?

Lucanis: Not so far.

Thom: So this is what you’re fine with being? A man who takes nobles’ money and lives in luxury with your bloodied hands? That's the life you chose?

Lucanis: Not ‘chose’, exactly. It is what I was trained to be since my childhood.

Thom: Wait. You were – who trains a child to be an assassin?

Lucanis: You met my grandmother.

—

Davrin: You held up pretty well in the last fight, Rainier. For an old man.

Thom: Whelp like you’d better watch what he says around a senior Warden.

Davrin: Why? You’ll tell me to do the fifty press-ups that your creaky bones can’t handle?

Thom (laughs) I’ll stop letting you borrow my best chisel.

—

Bellara: Hey, um, Thom? You know that little rocking griffon you made? Could you make, I don’t know, a bigger one? Like… adult… person-sized?

Thom: (chuckles) You never have a rocking griffon growing up?

Bellara: No! They’re not a Dalish thing! Because you can’t really rock. When the aravel’s moving, I mean. So… no, it’s a dumb idea. Forget I said anything.

Thom: You want me to make it a rocking halla?

Bellara: Yes please thank you.

—

Emmrich: How far you must have travelled, with both the Inquisition and the Wardens!

Thom: I like being on the road. Keeps a man honest.

Emmrich: I rather envy your fearlessness of the wider world. It’s so recent that the end of the Circles allowed me to travel freely outside the Necropolis.

Thom: Must have been freeing. Having the whole world suddenly open to you.

Emmrich: And rather overwhelming, I must admit. When I compare myself to you – a brave Warden, combatting the Blight across all of Thedas…

Thom: Trust me: compare the two of us, and that’s the only way I’ll come out better from it.

—

Thom: We fought quite a few dragons in the Inquisition. Almost got eaten once by some pissed-off beast in the Hinterlands. Kept throwing its dragonlings at us.

Taash: Fereldan Frostbacks are crappy mothers. First sign of trouble, and it’s ‘here! Take my children!’

Thom: (laughs) The worst was the lightning-spitter off the Storm Coast. Spent twenty minutes hacking away at its scales, rest of my team unconscious on the ground.

Taash: Wait - you what? That's not how you fight dragons. You can't just stand there and hit them. That's stupid. And boring.

—

Lucanis: It’s how the Crow Houses work. Children of the House lineage are trained from our infancy.

Thom: Andraste’s fucking tits.

Lucanis: It’s necessary. If Illario and I had been coddled… Caterina pushed us hard and young, because she wanted us to survive.

Thom: I don’t… (sighs) The things people do to children.

—

Harding: I never thought to ask - how come Varric changed your nickname?

Thom: I asked him to go with something else. 'Hero'... that was a name he gave to Blackwall.

Harding: Well, he chose the right name. You know, 'cause Rooks move in straight lines. And you charge right in there, don't mess around with fancy words, just hit things til they drop. You could say you're -

Thom: Don't do it, Lace.

Harding: Straightforward.

Thom: (chuckles) You're as bad as Sera.

—

Emmrich: Master Rainier, I wanted to say – I hope you know that you’re the only person here who looks at you with any harshness.

Thom: I – (sighs) You don’t know everything about me.

Emmrich: I would never claim to. But I know that you place yourself before your allies and the defenceless without hesitation and with utter selflessness. I know you understand your Warden oath better than many of your superiors. I know that you are a good man.

Thom: … I wish I knew what it was like to be you. Seeing the good in everyone, living or dead.

Emmrich: Then I hope you’ll permit me continue to see the good in you – until you can see yourself as I do.

[lolitastories]

Blue Eyes

Rafe Cameron

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Read alone or consider it as Part 4.

“Are you sure we can’t just skip town and settle in- I don’t know, Canada sounds fun!” I woke up early in the morning to head back home hoping Rafe would stay in his house with our daughter while I dealt with my family. But Rafe being Rafe convinced me it was better to deal with it together, so now I am cleaning my house while he plays with the baby on the couch not listening to my pleas. “She can learn how to ice skate, maybe hockey?” I scream from the kitchen. “I heard healthcare is amazing-”

“Breathe.” I turn around setting the rag on the counter. I look up and see Rafe on the kitchen doorway with our daughter in his arms. I pat my hands dry on my pants as I walk closer to them.

“Japan?” He grins, shaking his head. I groan as I place my head against his chest. “This is going to be unbearable.” Rafe moves his fingers under my chin and lifts it.

“Maybe it won’t be,” I raise my brow, he couldn’t even believe in his own words. “As long as they don’t make any rude remarks, we will be fine, civilized.” He comes down and places a kiss on my forehead.

“If It hadn’t been for a moment of weakness, I wouldn’t have been dealing with this.” I grab Rafe's hand and pull him towards the couch. “I just had to visit my grandmother,” I hear Rafe laugh as he sits down and places our girl in between us.

“By the stories, what else did you expect from a mother-in-law who deep down never liked her son’s wife?” My father was her first born and definitely her favorite.

“Maybe respect her granddaughter's wish of wanting to wait before I tell the rest of the family.” I look over to find Rafe just grinning. “That grin won’t last long,” I stood up and moved to take a spot on his lap. One arm around his shoulder while the other caresses his face. “I can handle them if things go south. I don’t want to put you in a difficult situation.” I look down, chuckling as I watch our daughter grab a fist full of my pants as she tries to crawl between us. “I know your temper and I want you to promise you won’t let them get the best of you,” I look back at him, who is staring blankly back. “Please?”

“Okay” He helps our daughter stand on his lap and her small arm waves around to get a hold of Rafe. We laugh seeing her almost hit me.

“She has to learn how to share,” It's like she understood. Her small head turns over to look at me. I placed my face in the crook of Rafe's neck but soon after she was back to hitting me. “He was mine first” I playfully joke which she smiles at. Our moment is cut short when we hear a knock on the door.  I took a deep breath before opening the door which revealed my parents, grandmother and sister. “Hey”

“Hi honey, how are you?” My grandmother passes by without even looking at me. “There she is!” I hear her excitement.

“Let us have a good reunion, okay?” I move aside a bit more and stay quiet due to my mother's words. My father only nods his head and walks in close behind my mother.

“Ready?” I look up and shake my head. “Too bad.” I know my sister was trying to lighten up my mood, but these nerves can’t be knocked out until they are out of here. I walk to stand beside Rafe who was already being stared down by my parents.

“Mom, dad, grandma, this is Rafe” My grandmother looks up and smiles before going back to babbling at my daughter.

“Nice to meet you” Rafe goes to shake their hand, but they don’t even give him that. I roll my eyes and turn towards my sister.

“This is my sister.” I point over and she smiles, coming forward to shake his hand.

“Nice to meet my sister's first boyfriend,” I give her a stare, but she doesn’t take the hint. “She wasn’t much for dating so imagine us more than surprised when we heard she had a kid with someone.” She was the only one laughing.

“Yeah, imagine us surprised.” My mother coldly said. “We never interfere with her choices because she has always been our responsible one but not even letting us be part of such an important part of her life well, we didn’t expect that.”

“What made you think that was a good decision?” My father finally looked straight into my eyes. “Wasn’t he the reason you came home for those weeks? Now you have a child with him?”

“No. My reasons for coming home were about me, I needed time to breathe, and I thought going home would clear things up.”

“Doesn’t seem like it cleared up anything in you. You must have come home because you told him you were pregnant, and he didn’t want anything to do with you or your child.” He knocked the wind right out of me. “Then you moved back, and he probably didn’t even help you through your pregnancy and only shows up once a week” His tone got higher as he spits out his words.

“I am not going to argue about what he did or didn’t do because you don’t deserve or have the right to that part of my life. I have a child with this man, and he will keep on being part of my child's life because he wants that too.” My hands felt numb.

“What will happen when he decides to leave huh? How would you take care of your child alone as a single mother? You’re tough my girl, but you fall down so easily.” My jaw stiffens as I watch my mother agree with my father's words.

“Well, that is part of life, isn’t it?” I look directly at my mother. “You know more about fighting for your kids as a single mother than I will, but I can assure you I will not find a man of convenience. I can handle that, you two on the other hand have no right to give me advice on that topic.” My mothers' eyes look down before taking her stance again. I remember the day I was hiding in the living room. She was talking on the phone, and she was talking about not loving my father. She married him because he had the means to take care of her and her children she brought into the marriage. That is when my view of them together forever changed, he wasn’t my real father, but I loved him, and she didn’t love him. “Now another part of my life I don’t need advice on is you being a part of her life,” I pointed over towards my daughter who was getting fussy in my grandmother's arms. “I know you aren’t here for me so if you want to get to know her, I will accept it as long as you know your place.” I feel Rafe's hand entwined with mine.

“You think-”

“Dad.” My sister walks forward. I could see the anger in his eyes. The way his hands are fisted shut. My head turns when I hear a cry from my girl. I walk over and take her from my grandmother's arms. I didn't hear what my sister was telling them, but they were quiet when I walked over to Rafe.

“We need time.” My mother finally speaks. She picks up her purse and starts heading towards the door with the rest. “We will let you know when we are available to visit.” My grandmother kindly hugs me before she walks out along with my sister.

“Mom?” I stand in the doorway watching as she steps down the stairs following my father towards the car. “My life will continue with or without you and so will hers. I will not go out of my way to please you anymore; I have more important things in my life now.” Her cold stare and demeanor don’t change. She walks off taking another quick glance back at me as she gets into the car. I shut the door and hear in the background how the tires drive off in the gravel. My mind was interrupted when I felt two hands grip my face and pull me in. Rafe places multiple kisses on my lips, then my cheek until he stops and stares at me. I didn’t notice until a laugh came out of my mouth, but I had a huge smile on my face.

“I am so proud of you” He wraps his arms around my waist making sure not to squish our daughter. “Are you okay?” He says lovingly. I nod my head letting my shoulder fall from all the tension.

“Yeah.” It felt like forever with them here but now that is it all over, I feel so relieved like it never happened. “We need to make this a happy day again.” Rafe raises his eyebrow questioning me. “Let's go out!” I pull apart with him and start getting the diaper bag ready.

“How about the aquarium?” I pause thinking back to the last time I visited one. “You love it, and it will be nice to share that with her since she is becoming obsessed with that otter” I laugh putting that exact otter in her bag.

“You don’t want to go thrifting?” I tease handing him the bag.

“No.” He instantly responds. “I will follow you through hell, but I don’t think I can do another antique store or thrift store for another month.” I roll my eyes.

“You are exaggerating,” I hand over our daughter so I can put on my shoes. “But I guess I will just have to find me another man who doesn’t mind”

“You do that, and he won’t last long breathing.” I ignore his comment and stand up to take the diaper bag from his hand.

“Whatever macho man. Let's go because we have enough time to get back before her nap.” I rush over to the door and see him slowly walking. “I thought we would repeat our prior activity while she naps but it's fine-” I hold back a laugh when I see him speed run past the door.

“You should have started with that!” I shake my head as I lock the front door and rush down to the stairs towards his truck. “Don’t you dare touch that door!” My hands weren't even raised I thought in my head. I hear the gravel move under his feet as he comes around the truck. I go to turn around, but his hand meets my hip and pushes me against the truck gently. His other hand moves to tuck my hair behind my ear.

“I know this feels too normal to go back to where we used to be, but We know that we can’t go back to the way we were before.” He moves his body closer. “I want to be the man you need not just because you are the mother of my child but because you deserve someone who treats you right.” My body shivers to see his eyes full of such devotion. “We will go slow when it comes to us because this is forever. I will take my time for the sake of us.” I wasn’t the one to cry but Rafe's always brought it out of me.

“I love you” I say in a shaky voice. A smile appears on his face, and he moves forward to place a simple kiss on my lips.

“I love you too” I didn’t meet Rafe in his crazy teen years, but I have heard stories about how unhinged he was back then. I wonder how many people would be shocked to see him now. A devoted father who will do anything for his little girl, and a man who looks so lovingly at me. So sappy, I smiled to myself. Then again why did I care? This was the Rafe I knew and loved, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

[antinousletmehit]

୨୧┇THIS IS FROM APHRODITES GAMBLE SERIES‼️‼️

୨୧┇for context to read the other backstory Drabbles between the two. Also this one’s gonna focus more on how Antinous became a shitty person. @lover-lyn

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The Ithacan night market was alive with flickering lanterns, loud chatter, and a haze of spices, smoke, and ale that filled the cool night air. Stalls lined the narrow streets, selling everything from roasted meats to fine silks, while performers and musicians entertained the bustling crowds. Amid it all, Antinous strode confidently, his younger sister trailing close behind, clutching his sleeve tightly.

“Antinous, are you sure about this?” She asked nervously, glancing around at the shadowy figures that loomed in the crowded streets. “It doesn’t feel safe here.”

“It’s fine,” he said dismissively, his eyes scanning the market. “We don’t have a choice. These fight rings pay well, and if I win, we’ll have enough for food and maybe a proper place to sleep for once.”

“But what if you get hurt?” she pressed, her grip tightening. Antinous smirked, ruffling her hair. “I won’t. You’ve seen me fight before. I’ll be fine. Just stick close to me, alright?” She nodded reluctantly, her unease clear in her wide eyes.

As they moved through the market, Antinous’s attention began to waver. He spotted a group of women near a jewelry stall, laughing and tossing flirtatious glances in his direction. Their brightly colored dresses shimmered in the lantern light, and their alluring smiles were hard to ignore. For a moment, Antinous forgot himself. “Stay right here, Y/n,” he said, gesturing to a nearby crate. Without waiting for her reply, he strode toward the women, his trademark swagger on full display.

She froze, her heart racing. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to keep him in sight, but the crowd shifted, and he disappeared from view “Antinous?” she called, her voice trembling. She took a hesitant step forward, the bustling market suddenly feeling like a maze of strangers and shadows. Her breathing quickened as the sounds of the market grew louder, almost deafening. She clutched the edges of her cloak, weaving through the crowd in a desperate attempt to find her brother. The bright lights and unfamiliar faces swirled around her, and panic set in.

“Antinous!” she cried, tears welling in her eyes.

Meanwhile, Antinous was laughing at some comment one of the women had made, his usual charm on full display. But as he turned to glance back at his sister, his smile faded.

She was gone.

“Y/n?” he called, his voice sharp with urgency.

The women around him looked confused as he abruptly turned away, shoving through the crowd. His heart pounded as he scanned the market, cursing himself under his breath. “Y/n!” he shouted, his eyes darting frantically between the stalls and faces.

Y/n, meanwhile, was crouched near a dark corner, her small frame trembling as she tried to make herself invisible from the chaotic crowd. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, “Antinous, where are you?” Finally, Antinous spotted her, huddled in the shadows like a lost child. Relief flooded him as he pushed past a vendor and dropped to his knees in front of her.

“Y/n,” he breathed, reaching out to pull her into his arms. She flinched at first, then buried her face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

“I was so scared,” she choked out. “I thought you left me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Antinous said, his voice thick with guilt. “I shouldn’t have left you alone, not even for a second.”

She clung to him tightly, her fingers digging into his tunic. “Don’t ever do that again,” she begged.

“I won’t,” he promised, stroking her hair. “I swear, y/n. Never again.”

He stood, lifting her to her feet and keeping a firm hold on her hand. The fight ring could wait. Tonight, all that mattered was making sure Pandora felt safe again. Little did she know she’d have to cherish the last memory of antinous before he became someone else in that arena.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The underground fight ring was alive with roaring cheers, drunken laughter, and the clinking of coins exchanging hands. Antinous stood in the center of the ring, his chest heaving as he raised his bruised arms in victory. Blood trickled from a split on his lip, but his smirk was triumphant. The crowd adored him, chanting his name as bets were settled and ale spilled in celebration.

Y/n sat in the shadows near the edge of the ring, her small hands clenched tightly around the hem of her cloak. She watched her brother with a mix of pride and worry. Antinous had become a star in the fight ring, earning not only money but also the fame. But with every victory, she saw less and less of the brother she once knew.

When the fight was over, Antinous was escorted back to his room by the fight ring’s manager, a large man with a crooked smile. Y/N trailed behind, as she always did, her presence barely acknowledged by the crowd. Inside the modest room, which smelled faintly of sweat and blood, Antinous threw himself onto the bed, grinning as the manager handed him a hefty pouch of coins.

“Biggest win yet, kid,” the manager said with a chuckle. “You’re a real crowd pleaser. And as a reward…” He motioned to the doorway, where a beautiful woman stepped in, her painted lips curling into a seductive smile. She carried an air of confidence that made y/n shrink back into the corner of the room.

“This one’s for you, champ,” the manager said, clapping Antinous on the shoulder before leaving.

Antinous blinked at the woman, his grin widening. “Well, this is new.”

Pandora’s heart sank as she realized what was happening. “Antinous,” she said softly, stepping closer. “I—I don’t like this.”

Antinous waved her off, not even looking at her. “Y/n, go wait outside. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“But—”

“Y/n,” he said sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. Her eyes filled with tears, but she nodded and turned toward the door, clutching her cloak tightly around her. She stepped outside into the cold hallway, the wooden door closing firmly behind her. Sliding down the wall opposite the door, she hugged her knees to her chest. The muffled sound of moans and yells from within the room made her stomach churn. She pressed her forehead against her knees, trying to block it all out, but the tears came anyway.

“I hate this,” she whispered to herself, her voice shaking. “I hate this life. I hate him for doing this.”

The night stretched on, and the hallway grew colder. Y/n shivered as she sat there, her sobs growing quieter with exhaustion. She couldn’t understand how the brother who had once promised to protect her had changed so much, how he could prioritize a stranger over her. A while after the room finally fell silent, the door creaked open after a bit, and Antinous stepped out. His expression was unreadable as he glanced down at his sister, who refused to meet his gaze.

“Y/n,” he said softly, kneeling in front of her.

She didn’t respond, her face hidden against her knees.

Antinous sighed, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “My bad…” he murmured, his voice unusually gentle. “I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have made you wait out here.”

Still, she didn’t move, but her trembling gave her away. Antinous’s chest tightened with guilt. He scooped her up into his arms, holding her close despite her weak attempts to push him away.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “I promise. I’ll do better.”

She finally looked up at him, her tear-streaked face filled with hurt. “You always say that,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

But Antinous didn’t argue. He carried her back into the room, laying her on the bed and wrapping her in a thin blanket. Separate from the one on the bed where the woman seemed to be asleep sitting beside her, he watched her fall into an uneasy sleep, the weight of his choices pressing heavily on his shoulders.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The glow of the underground tavern flickered across Antinous’s sharp features as he leaned casually against the bar, a confident smirk playing on his lips. The fight ring crowd was still buzzing with excitement from his latest victory, and Antinous basked in the attention. Coins jingled in his pouch, drinks were shoved into his hands, and, most noticeably, a striking woman had draped herself across his arm, laughing at his every word.

Y/n sat at a small table in the corner, her legs tucked up onto the chair as she gnawed on a piece of bread Antinous had bought with his winnings. She watched him from a distance, her brows furrowed. She didn’t like the way the woman looked at her brother or how Antinous seemed so wrapped up in her, as if nothing else mattered.

“Antinous,” she said softly when she finally gathered the courage to approach him. She tugged on his sleeve, trying to catch his attention. “It’s late. Can we go back to the room now?”

Antinous barely glanced at her, too engrossed in whatever flirtatious comment the woman had just whispered in his ear. “Not now, Y/n,” he said dismissively, brushing her hand away.

She frowned, her voice rising slightly. “But you promised we’d leave after the fight. I’m tired—”

“I said not now!” Antinous snapped, his tone sharper than he intended.

She recoiled, her lips trembling. “You promised,” she muttered, her voice small.

Antinous sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He crouched down to her level, lowering his voice. “Y/n, just… go back to the room on your own, alright? I’ll be back later.”

Her eyes widened. “But it’s dangerous at night. You said I shouldn’t walk alone.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said impatiently, standing up. “You know the way.”

She hesitated, staring at him as if trying to understand why her brother, her protector, was acting this way. But Antinous had already turned back to the woman, laughing at something she said as he let her pull him toward a private corner of the tavern.

Swallowing her tears, Pandora trudged out into the cold night, clutching her cloak tightly around her. The streets were dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls as the lanterns swayed in the wind. Every sound, a distant footstep, a whisper of movement, made her jump. She tried to walk faster, but the growing lump in her throat made it hard to focus. When she finally reached their shared room, it was empty and quiet. She curled up on the small cot, her knees pulled to her chest as silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

Hours later, the door creaked open, and Antinous drunkly stumbled in. His tunic was rumpled, his hair tousled. He froze when he saw his sister’s tear streaked face. Almost as if he sobered up.

“Y/n,” he said softly, guilt flashing in his eyes.

She didn’t respond, turning her face away from him. Antinous sat on the edge of the cot, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “Damn uh…my fault,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have left you like that.”

“You keep saying that,” she said quietly, her voice raw. “But you always do it again.”For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. He sat there in silence, staring at his hands. “I’ll do better,” he finally said, but to her, the promise felt hollow.

She didn’t reply, curling tighter into herself. Antinous stayed by her side, not bothering to try and hold her, tell her that it’ll be okay. The weight of his actions settling heavily on his shoulders.

Antinous shitty Brother Nation

[omegastation]

I made a post this morning and I deleted it because I feared I wasn’t as eloquent or as kind as I could be. Let me try this again. I do want to be kind, and explain myself well. And it’s not about creating drama, it’s about something I truly care about, and that is worth the post here. (tw grief, fandom talk)

Since I’ve came back, I’ve seen a lot of posts about grief, especially about Shepard’s death, and a lot of comparing squadmates, how they grieve, with the ultimate (weird to me) goal of proving “who grieved the most”. I worry about the way it might impact some of us in fandom who have grieved/are grieving. Because it is very harsh to present one way of grieving as the right way or the most showing of love.

The best way to explain it is by giving an example. In my line of work, I encounter many people who are grieving, and mostly following very difficult circumstances.  One woman I know went back to work the following year after losing her loved one. She was in extreme pain, but she reacted as if nothing had happened. People knew of course, but she kept going on and on, and she had a major job at a major corporation. A leader, one that you see speaking at conferences. She did all that for a year. You couldn’t tell she was grieving by looking at her. Another woman lost her loved one, and had difficulty walking the following months after the death. Her pain was visible, the other wasn’t... But I would never think about comparing their pain, or suggesting one was grieving the most or loved the most. Because grief is like that. It can be silent, or not. People have different ways to cope, to move on or not. And it’s a process, not always linear. 

I saw my friend who grieved on the tramway home and she was smiling for the most part, but at one point she had tears in her eyes.  I don’t need to see the tears to understand that she’s going through something. She can also smile as much as she wants. It doesn’t mean she loved less, cared less or is grieving less than someone else. And so, the way some people are pinpointing one way to grieve as the most showing of love or the realest one is not only inaccurate to me, but also not really considerate of the different ways people might be grieving. Here in this fandom, we also don’t know who is grieving, and how they are coping. And I think many of us see fandom as a fun place, and to keep it as a fun place, we should just respect the different ways we love, care, grieve, etc.  And really, the underlying thing behind all this grief talk is about the one favorite character, ship, li… The one who grieved the most, basically, as the most natural choice, the best, the “canon” one. But not everyone has that one preference (which it is, it’s a preference, not a default pick), and honestly, it’s okay.  We have to accept that people think differently than us in our fandom, because that’s how we let people carve out a place for themselves. It’s not “one way” and that’s it.  And it shouldn’t be like that, because if everyone in fandom thought the same way, it would be boring, and it would be very restricted in a way. 

I hope nothing I said here can be seen as hurtful. Making people feel welcome is important to me here. It’s how I get to talk to so many of you, and have fun, and deal with my own grief.

[swordduels]

She knew this would make a huge blow to Regalia’s ego.

This might not be a big win for Circe but at least it was a non violent solution with clear cut rules. Earn your stay or face the consequences and since Regalia acted like an unruly cat it would stand to reason to treat her like one. There didn’t seem to be any loopholes for Regalia to take advantage of seeing as she had nothing to counter with. A mischievous smile appeared as Circe gently let go of the silky locks to gently tap Regalia’s cheek. “We’ll see about that, darling.” Her voice purred as Regalia returned the phone. Even someone like her could see the reasoning behind Circe’s decision despite annoyed grumbling noises and angry stares. Circe followed Regalia like a shadow to see how she would handle each task. Chores had normally been performed by her many wives throughout the years so this experience must be even more humiliating than anything else Circe had nudged her to do. It all had started with their bedroom games. Small commands with promises of a delicious reward. Now it was time to master all chores with decent living conditions waiting. If everything turned out well she could offer another sweet reward or two. Of course it was something she decided to keep quiet about for the chores to be more unbearable. Though this punishment could have been far worse seeing as Regalia had not paid for every wrongdoing she had done through the centuries.  

Oh how the great Regalia had fallen.  The bedroom was a nasty mess filled with traces of their untamed passion and it amused Circe to see Regalia’s growing frustration being signaled with stomping feet. She watched as Regalia moved about to collect foul smelling clothes, wrinkled bed sheets with wet stains and everything else that had to be placed in Circe’s laundry basket. For tomorrow she would make her do the laundry and potentially some more cleaning. The rewards would be even sweeter after slaving away for a long period of time. Her gaze shifted to watch as Regalia placed the dishes into a steep pile. “Hmm, you’ll have to be careful with my cutlery if you don’t want to pick up glass.” Circe kept smiling while taking small sips of her cold coffee and gently moving to let Regalia pass through. Once the cleaning was done she was pleased to see her make the bed with fresh bed sheets with a soft scent of lavender. “Good choice.” Even though Regalia had started off by being frustrated she could sense the cleaning wasn’t haphazardly done. All that frustration had turned into a purposeful need for some order and cleanliness. Wonderful. This was even better than she had expected.

Circe hummed while following her back to the kitchen where Regalia brought piles of cutlery, cups and glasses. The loud clinking of plates in soap water made her a bit weary but everything seemed to be under control despite how chaotic it seemed at first. Nothing was broken and Regalia seemed to get invested in having everything polished to perfection. After a short moment she simply placed her phone on the table and left to prepare a warm water bath. She left the toilet door wide open while dripping purple bath foam smelling of violets.  A tiny smile was visible as the clinking noise died down and Regalia declared herself done. “Come along, love.” @fallesto

She chewing slowed down as she eyed Circe with a mix of anger and annoyance. She knew she couldn’t refuse and it was clear that Circe was drawing a line in the sand. With a dramatic sigh, she swallowed her food and placed the phone in Circe’s hand. “Fine, but don’t think for a moment this means you have won anything.” She pushed herself up with a huff. She didn’t bother to hide her irritation as she stood up, her eyes narrowing into slits. The smell of greasy food lingered in the air as she stomped to the bedroom, her slippers echoing through the house. She heard the witch as she followed closely behind, sipping her now-cool coffee, watching the display of power dynamics with an amused glint in her eyes.

“Fucking hell.”

The bedroom was a disaster. Clothes were strewn everywhere, a mountain of dirty dishes teetered on the bedside table, and the bed was a wrinkled mess of discarded sheets and blankets. She rolled her eyes dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She knew this was Circe’s way of asserting control, making her clean up after their wild sessions. It was a small victory, but one Circe clearly enjoyed and one that she herself, loathed. With a huff, she began to pick up the clothes, tossing them into a nearby laundry basket. The scent of sweat and sex lingered on the fabric, and she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance that she was the one dealing with the aftermath. She had always been the one in charge, the one calling the shots. But Circe’s sudden stand had thrown her off balance, and she knew that for the time being, she had to play along.

The bed was next. She pulled the sheets with a grunt, the mattress protesting with a squeak. The sight of the stained pillows and sheets made her nose wrinkle in disgust then again it was a stark reminder of the squalor the witch had pulled her from. She threw the dirty linen into the basket, the thud echoing in the room. The new sheets smelled faintly of lavender, a scent she felt the witch favored, and she couldn’t help but feel a begrudging respect for the goddess’s ability to keep some semblance of order amidst the chaos she had created.

She stomped around the room, shoving dirty dishes onto the bedside table, piling them precariously high. The clinking of plates and the scraping of silverware against the wood was a small rebellion in the face of Circe’s newfound assertiveness. She didn’t bother to organize them neatly; she just wanted them out of her way. The bedroom was a sanctuary, the place where she drew her power from what she intended to do, and seeing it in such a state of disarray was unnerving. She knew it was petty, but the thought of Circe watching her clean brought a smug satisfaction.

As she bent down to grab the last of the scattered clothes, she noticed a glint of metal on the floor. It was a small knife from when the witch had cut the fruit hours before. She picked it up, twirling it in her fingers, the blade reflecting the harsh overhead light. A twisted smile curved her lips. Maybe this was the opportunity she needed to remind Circe of the fragility of their situation. She turned, hiding the knife in the pocket of her apron, and walked out of the room, leaving the mess behind her.

The kitchen was next, and she approached the pile of dishes with a renewed sense of purpose. She tossed them into the sink with enough force to make them clatter against each other. The sound was music to her ears, a symphony of chaos and disarray. As she scrubbed, she let her thoughts wander to the sweet taste of power, the way it pulsed through her veins with each new heart she consumed. It was intoxicating, and she had to resist the urge to reach for her phone, to bask in the digital worship of her followers.

As the dishes began to pile up in the sink, it dawned on her that she had missed a spot. A smudge of grease remained on one plate, a stubborn reminder of their earlier meal. With a growl of frustration, she grabbed the plate and scrubbed harder, her nails digging into the porcelain. The water grew murky and gray, filled with the detritus of their lives. The scent of soap was overpowered by the lingering odor of food, but she didn’t care. She needed to regain control, to show Circe that she wasn’t just a pawn in this twisted game.

“Finished!”

[whumpwordsoftheday]

“We’re going to learn so much from you, you’ll see.”

“Please, please just let me go”

“Don’t be so selfish, this is for the greater good”

[edwinisms]

it’s actually so wild to me that this fairly quirky YA type show gave both of its main characters deaths that can, in one way or another, solidly be considered hate crimes. they were both flat out murdered as a result of being A) gay and effeminate or B) brown (south asian, specifically) and you could argue whether or not those kids thought of it that way in the moment or whatever but the bottom line is that they would not have been in the situations that killed them if they weren’t of their respective minorities. like legitimately that is a ballsy choice for this kind of netflix show, let alone for the two Main Characters, and i respect it big time

[puppppppppy]

Why are ppl scared to call it what it is and say we’re still going thru covid on top of seasonal illness. Like. That’s pretty important right. I was watching the news and they were like oh yeah we have an unprecedented number of flu cases “as well as other sicknesses” without actually saying Covid. No announcement abt vaccinations or masking or anything. Also if I hear someone joking abt “war flashbacks” for mentioning covid I fucking hate u

[eliashawthorne]

“huh.” elias thoughtfully replied, intrigued. “you know, i supposed that isn’t too far fetched.” it was nice to think that the a good deed could be the reason millions of lives were saved, without the consequences of something else drastically happening. he tried not to think about if one of the lives saved could be the reason something does happen, perhaps their evil outweighs what we are prepared to handle as a society, instead he focused on the positive outcome of it all. now he knew that with all this time travel talk, he was going to go down a rabbit hole the moment he got home later. he was determined to gather all the theories he could for their next encounter because now he wanted to ramble on about space and time travel with zarah. he nods at her question, “yes, that’s true.” he pauses, then smiles, “well, all in all, at the end of the day, i think the choice we make would be the best one. i don’t know about you, but i think we make a killer duo.”

much like zarah, elias could easily adapt to various topic changes in conversations. actually it was quite fun to him to have different conversations going on in the same one, as long as it wasn’t too confusing. this was not confusing, it was fun. the idea of someone actually patrolling the worlds largest rubber band ball was amusing, unlikely, but he could see how even that might need protecting. “if you’re stealing the worlds largest rubber band ball and you manage to get away with that…i am both impressed and curious as to what the intentions are with said rubber band ball. maybe they would want to roll it off the grand canyon and see if it bounces up and how high it would bounce.” now he was just being a bit silly, but it was ideas like that that called for protection at even the most isolated of place like road side attractions. it was a shame, really. “i never really understood that, not being able to leave well enough alone. isn’t it enough to know you were there and simply take in the beauty?” as they continued on with their conversation and it turned to their road trip he got more excited at the idea. he smiles when zarah encourages his book savings idea, but nods at the auto draft option. “i will do both. get the book and begin auto drafting. that way if one fails, at least the other is in full effect.” though he wasn’t sure how auto drafting would fail, but he guesses there is a first time for everything and that would be no exception. “you know what? i’m going to invest in an adventure scrap book for our journey too.”

you were basically a parent, when owning a pet. luckily the only schedule that mochi was on was feeding times. he chose cat over a dog at the moment because he liked how independent they could be, and he did not have the time to properly give a pup. he understood that she couldn’t just get up and leave (as much fun as it sounded like) because he was in a similar boat. but there were times, like tonight, in which he simply had to trust mochi was going to be okay without him. he felt like the cat had already known something was on the horizon anyway, as he was also a firm believer that animals had a strong sixth sense. “i would be surprised if he wasn’t being a loaf on my bed or burrowed under blankets. but yes, once I get back home, i will be giving mochi extra love and affection to make up for my absence during the fireworks show.” when he hears her answer to his question it pulls a lighthearted chuckle from his lips, shaking his head before replying, “not even a little bit. i was just wondering if you wanted to watch them together.” then he thinks of something, not wanting her to feel like he has alternative motives, he ends up also adding, “we don’t have to kiss at the count down, just to throw that out there.”

“I feel like most modern science fiction and theory leans heavily into the whole altering one event altering all of history but there are some where that isn’t the case,” she could admit. She’d read a book series once that had time traveling didn’t ultimately change anything even though the protagonist had definitely taken some liberties by bringing modern medicine and technology. Ultimately, time travel went both ways and everything sort of ended up happening the way it had in history. “Every action has a reaction and at the end of the day I think everyone had to decide if the consequence is worth whatever it is they do whether that be in the day to day or in their hypothetical time travel experience. I think the potential of saving millions of lives would have to be deemed worth consideration.” Though at the end of the day, she didn’t suppose anyone could predict whether the lives saved would lean toward doing good in the world or bring additional chaos that they couldn’t have begun to prepare for. “At the end of the day, it’s a choice. Isn’t everything in the world a choice though?”

Zarah could easily go from talking about one thing to another. Truth be told, given the opportunity she could probably talk to a leaf about a tree for hours on end. If there was someone willing to talk, she was willing to listen and join in on the conversation. It was definitely enough to keep her mind stimulated. “Security seems like such overkill,” she wanted to say though she knew that the world they lived in merited it. Just because most people who might want to take a stop and look at one thing or another on the side of the road were probably harmless, there were always people out there that lacked the ability to keep it together. Maybe they weren’t going out there and actively looking to put anyone else in danger but there were definitely people whose idea of a good time were stealing from National Parks and making their own mark at places they had no business touching. “It’s so easy to just visit a place, appreciate it and live it as it was but I completely understand that not everyone has that perspective,” she could admit. Zarah nodded, knowing full well that whatever his attributes or the employee circumstances they were going to be just fine. Saving money was the primary concern. It wouldn’t be too hard to do if they had months to get their ducks in a row for it though. “A book could be a good start for you,” she was willing to concede. “Only way to know what you can is to try and it and if you realize it’s not working you’ll still have time to change it up. Auto draft is a savior though.”

Pet ownership did come with responsibilities. It wasn’t always easy especially when there were things that could scare them or it impacted scheduling. She definitely couldn’t just pick up and disappear for days on end without putting in some thought into who was going to care for her pet. She knew that he got it. “I’m sure Mochi will be fine,” she reassured. “Plus when you get home, he’ll feel safe again. Hopefully, he’s asleep somewhere and doesn’t even know what is about to go down.” Then again, maybe he did. She felt like animals in general had a pretty strong sixth sense when things were about to happen – storms or fireworks. She her gaze move up to his with his question, laughing. “I didn’t really have any plans. Just you know, enjoying the crowd. Being where I end up, you know. Am I keeping you from someone?”

[voidcat]

You and your annoying uni friend slash occasional roommate Endo who likes to crash at your place unprompted and unannounced at random times. Despite your pouts and groans you enjoy his presence as much as he does.

He’s an impressive artist with wonderful line work, his newest works always has you waiting to see the end result, watching with great focus as he works on them on your floor in the dead of the night

And he’s great company too. A beer cracked open, snacks all around and it’s just the two of you shittalking others, gossiping and being mean just because you can and oh—

is it not fun to spend time with him like that- to the point he has become perhaps the closest to you. Each others confidants, secret keepers, the number one victim to drag when the other one is trying something new or going to a new place.

So it’s no surprise when you whine about how boring and lonely things have gotten lately and you just miss a good ol heated making out session. Maybe a little handsy if türe feeling up to it, maybe even a little grinding if the night looks promising.

Before the two of you know, your hot breaths are all over each other, Endo’s hands at both sides, pulling you into his lap with strength and pressing you against that aching spot in his pants just to relieve himself as you bite into his neck and mark him up in red

[o-uncle-newt]

Hi! I hope you're doing well and having a lovely holiday season :)

Sorry if you've already talked about this before, I haven't been following you for a long time - but what do you think of the other series of JFSP apart from series 9?

Personally I love them to bits, I have listened to every episode more than 30 times and they're probably one of my favourite things in the whole world. I just love the humour, the characters, the situations - it feels very safe, no mean spirited jokes, very comforting. The sketches feels very autistic-coded to me as an autistic person, much like Martin from Cabin Pressure - some of the sketches are things I doubt a neurotypical person would notice or comment on from the angle he chooses. Like the geek sketch and the 'friend I'm in the mood for' sketch from series 5.

What are your thoughts on these series?

Thank you for asking, that’s an awesome question!

The basic answer is that I am, of course, a big fan. That said, I’d say that as much as I overall enjoy sketch comedy, I do tend to find it hit or miss; and while JFSP has a higher hit rate than most, and plenty of sketches are fantastic*, it definitely doesn’t get there ALL the time.

*Notable faves- Spooktacular, seashells, reincarnation/past lives, “Stop Saying G’nus,” tricyclist… there are loads and loads more, just off the top of my head! Not to mention the excellent ones you already cited…

The functional difference for me ends up being that while I don’t think there’s a 100% hit rate on Cabin Pressure or Double Acts either, I know that if I pick one episode that I like I will enjoy myself for a full half hour. Because I’m less familiar with a given episode of JFSP given how many there have been and how many sketches are in an episode, I don’t have that same sense of instant “ahhh” from turning on an episode of JFSP* as I would from the other two shows, where a lot of my emotions about it come from knowing it like the back of my hand.

*Major exception- S7E6. A perfect episode of sketch comedy that I can listen to literally whenever. No notes.

This isn’t to say that I don’t really enjoy JFSP! I just wish I could pick off a menu of sketches, not simply because I like some better than others but because I like the feeling of “oooh this” on demand that I get from turning on a favorite half hour episode. I will say- I find JFSP to be PERFECT for things like dental procedures and car trips, where I might be in the chair for anywhere from five minutes to two hours and can just turn on a bunch of sequential episodes for as long as I need. But it doesn’t necessarily have the same immediate impact for me as the episodes I love of the other shows.

That said- some of the best things JF ever wrote are Since You Asked Me sketches. I want them pumped into my veins.

[brittlebutch]

sonic and snufkin actually kind of feel like very similar characters to me. holding hands over “my personal sense of freedom and dedication to making decisions based on what I think is right is what matters most, and if you’ve built some idealized version of me in your head then that’s none of my business and it’s not my responsibility if the reality of who i am lets you down in some way”. also the deep connection to nature and all.