#i get that maybe they didn't include some because their mechanics would be the same to x y z characters

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Had a terribly great thought! The Ghoul and reader traveling together. She's a brat but loyal as a dog to that man. They get into a pretty bad fight and she storms off and he's too proud to follow after her, struggling with coming to terms that he's actually soft for her even though he's mean as hell. She finds him some days later, with her tail tucked between her legs. He's not surprised, comparing her to a female dog often. 👀 still, he's going to make sure she's sorry. Lots of groveling on her part, maybe some face slapping, boot licking, he gets off, she doesn't. Ends with her in his lap. Hair petting and praise for coming back to who she belongs to.

As A Dog

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,085

Warnings: smut (18+), DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Jealous!Cooper, canon-typical violence, intimacy issues, angst, insecurity, slightly fucked conceptions of love and loyalty, pet play-ish activity, hard drug use, forced intoxication, shotgunning, slapping, boot licking, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, rough sex, riding, cannibalistic thoughts, orgasm denial (female), breeding kink, creampie.

Notes: I had several pieces in line in front of this one and then this prompt reached through my screen, sunk its teeth into my brain, and shook me until this came out. It really is a terribly great thought. Tagging heavy, since the themes/Cooper's mentality may be triggering for some. It is what it says on the can, folks.

I dunno what unholy demon you've unleashed on me here, Anon. But bless you for it. Another Coop POV because I have a problem. Thanks for the patience on this one; I've been doing some admin stuff the last few days, including setting up an AO3 that you can find here, where I'll be uploading all the long-form stuff. Enjoy!

Cooper's trigger finger was itchier today than it had been for a long time.

He was fully aware that he'd never be able to stop every man left in the world from talking to his little vaultie companion, but boy, he sure would love to try. On an average day, he struggled to hold his tongue as she drove away her own sun-baked suitors, standing silently aside until called up to defend her, no matter how badly he wanted to reduce whomever was bothering her to nothing.

Today was a worse-than-average day, and the girl wasn't helping anything, herself.

"Are you gonna be ready to go any time soon, princess?" he asked her acerbically as she passed by him for the millionth time, tossing his current cigarette down to the ground.

He'd intended to stop at this shitty little settlement, little more than a dingy bighorner ranch at first glance, for a few minutes at most, just long enough to unload some things and check to see if they had any vials on hand. Here it was, nearly four hours of glad-handing and chit-chatting and unnecessary gun repairs later, and he was still leaning against the same crumbing wall, still angrily smoking. She was pushing it.

"Oh, be patient." she shot back, rolling her eyes as she turned to saunter back to the little ramshackle counter. "I'm waiting for my gun back and I was having a nice chat with the mechanic. Try to be pleasant for five minutes, would you?"

She was so full of shit, he thought as he snuffed the still-glowing smoke butt out beneath the toe of his boot with just a little more force than necessary. Typically, she shied away from male attention at her most demure, refusing to acknowledge most advances, playing innocent, playing dumb. The big doe eyes and soft voice didn't hurt on that front, but usually didn't deter the more steadfast predators.

He preferred the days where she had a little extra spitfire, when she told them clearly and loudly to fuck off, no doubt emboldened by having the rather intimidating ghoul hanging over her shoulder, silently encouraging her as she did it. In the past, she had proven that she wasn't above evoking his capacity for violence as a threat when the desert trash was persistent, and it gave him a thrill he couldn't identify, one that ruminated deep in his gut.

That same gut feeling was burning him now, eating a hole in his patience as he watched her listening attentively to the third scrawny young man who'd approached her as she waited around the repair hutch to yap her ear off. She nodded and smiled politely, even laughed from time to time (the sound of which made him want to shoot he kid between the eyes just for that), but kept a respectful distance. Clearly, she'd finally learned that the sort of over-friendliness that she'd been raised with in the vaults could be read differently up here. The young buck, however, continued to try and dance into her space as he spoke animatedly, and, eventually, she reached out and quickly touched his chest.

The old cowboy was stomping across the sand to her before he was even aware he was moving.

His logical brain could see very clearly what had happened: the boy had advanced into her space for the half-dozenth time and she'd put her palm out to gently rebuke him, distracting him from the rejection with a laugh at whatever he'd said. But that part of his brain was rather quiet after a long afternoon of watching her rather blatantly flirt with the asshole she was having repair her plasma pistol (something that she would typically have him do, since it wouldn't cost her anything, and he almost certainly could do with equal or superior adequacy), and letting every other little piss-ant farmhand in the next mile radius chat her up.

"We're hitting the road in five. Get your shit and let's go." he hissed to her, ignoring the little scowl she shot him as he interrupted her newest conversation with the willowy, greasy mechanic, who was sliding her her pistol back across the knotted wood of the semi-exposed countertop. Flashing him that brilliant smile, the one that he wanted to be only for him, she checked the thing over before tucking it back into the holster she kept on her hip, pushing a stash of caps in a metal tin back his way. The old cowboy watched with inflamed indignation as the fucker opened the box, dug out a massive handful, and tucked them back into her hands, letting his own linger across her skin as he placed them back into her palms.

Frankly, he was impressed he was able to let her drop the things back into her bag before he grabbed her by the arm, none too gently, and wordlessly began to yank her back down the road, back in the direction they'd originally been heading in. He could've shoved the damn things in himself and just dragged her along; it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with where she put them. The long, sleepless nights could be boring, and early on, he'd been curious enough about her to nose through her things once or thrice. That, like this, had been quite illuminating.

"Oh, you're being such a prick today!" she yelled, yanking at his grip in an attempt to free herself. He humored her, dropping her arm and turning to face her, unpleasantly surprised as the last farmhand she'd been chatting with, the one she'd touched, came running up.

"Hey, leave her alone!" he yelled. Or, he would have, if he'd had a chance to finish.

The sound of Cooper's rifle butt cracking into the kid's face was incredibly satisfying, collapsing him into a limp, useless pile on the ground, deep crimson pooling around where he lie face-down in the dirt. The girl didn't scream, probably surprised that he hadn't outright shot him, but her hands did fly to her mouth in a quick moment of silent shock before she kneeled to quickly check his pulse, rolling his ugly mug to face the sun. Blood poured from his obviously broken nose, leaving the old ghoul wiping at his face to cover the smirk it sent twitching across his lips.

"What did you do that for?!" she demanded, frustration clear in her voice.

"Oh, my apologies, sweetheart. Your little boyfriend there was trying to join a party he wasn't invited to." he replied, though she was clearly ignoring him in favor of turning the boy onto his side and examining him.

His little companion let out a huff, casting a look between the body on the ground and the little cluster of buildings they'd just left. After a moment, she grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt the best she could and began to drag him back towards where he'd come from. The ghoul watched her pull him about five feet, red and huffing by the time she made it there, rolling his eyes deeply.

"Leave him. He'll be fine."

"He won't be if no one comes over to collect him soon, and you know it." she snarled, and her tone sent him seething, snatching the kid up over his shoulder like a sack of spuds and stomping ahead of her, depositing him unceremoniously against the ranch's handmade sign before yanking her along with him once again.

"Y'know, if you'd have just gotten in and out like I told you, that wouldn't have happened." he said eventually, dropping her arm once more.

"Oh, fuck you!" she hissed. "I was trying to see if I could talk him down on the price. And sometimes people know useful things, you know!" she yelled, exasperation clear in her tone as she threw her arms up in the air.

She pretended to be ignorant, but clearly knew what he was upset about before he specified. Interesting.

"Oh, I'm sure. Y'know, I'd wondered how long it was gonna take you to start sellin' that little ass of yours. Figured it would be for something nicer than a pistol repair or some bad intel, at least." he sneered. He could feel himself slipping further from rationality.

"What are you talking about? It wasn't even like that!" she insisted, an edge of something more worrisome creeping into her voice.

"Quit playin' dumb, doll. You make it seem too easy." he said, watching her entire face light up bright red in frustration. She was tersely quiet for a minute, the gears in her head clearly turning hard and fast as she worked to contain herself and formulate a response at the same time.

"I'm sick of you getting pissed off and treating me like I'm the stupidest person you've ever met." she spat, eventually, madder than he'd ever seen her. "I'm sorry that I haven't spent enough bitter fucking years walking around the desert and killing things and being an asshole to know everything like you do, Coop. I'm sorry I still have human emotions and desires. My sincerest fucking apologies."

That was it: the argument had officially become about...something else.

Honestly, he'd assumed that she was going to leave him a few days back, when they'd stayed in a rare hotel room waiting for a bad dust storm to settle, the little thing getting just a tad too tipsy on some whiskey he'd given her before trying to kiss him. He'd rebuffed her, though not as gently as he wished he had, and, feeling bold, she'd pushed back with surprising fervor, basically demanding to know why he wouldn't kiss her more, why he wouldn't sleep with her.

True, he felt closer to her than he'd felt to anyone or anything in a long while, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but, as embarrassing as it was, the idea of being expected to perform sexually so suddenly made him feel a seizing sense of panic that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

What he'd wanted to say was "I care about you so much, but I'm not sure I'm ready to take that step." Instead, what had come out was "Why are you buggin' me about this? I said no. Fuck off." followed by him storming out to spend several hours smoking in the decrepit, junk-walled-in parking lot.

When he'd returned, she'd been asleep, her poor face tear-swollen and red. He'd waited for her to rouse and hash it out with him, but she'd slept through the night, and, the next morning, didn't bring it up or seem amenable to discussing it. She hadn't seemed angry, necessarily, perhaps a little sad, but in the few days that had passed since, she had definitely been colder, poutier than usual.

It seemed, to him, that she was punishing him now for not doing what she'd wanted, and it was pissing him off.

It didn't matter that he hadn't fucked her yet, that he didn't feel ready to expose the most vulnerable parts of him, inside and out, so openly. She was his; she belonged to him and she knew it as much as he did. The fact that she was even still traveling with him after all this time, after what happened at the hotel that night, was proof. She proved it every single time she came back from one of her little stomp-offs every time he ticked her off, lacking the wherewithal to ever even move fully out of sight before slinking down to pout awhile, inevitably peeking out from whatever she was hiding behind to see if he was still there. Despite her lack of proper training, she was a loyal little bitch.

The fact that she suddenly didn't want to act accordingly sat entirely wrong in his mind, wriggled under his skin like when his stash ran low.

"All's I'm saying, princess," he growled, throwing out the nickname he knew she loathed once more, "is that you're too fucking friendly for your own good, and you shouldn't be shocked when it gets people hurt."

"Why would you give a shit who I'm friendly to, anyway?" she spat, suddenly pushing her way right into his bubble and sending him baring his teeth.

"I wouldn't. Didn't I made that clear enough the other night?"

He knew that this particular barb would hurt her, but he genuinely didn't expect what she did next.

"Alright, then." she said; her voice was trembling noticeably, as was her lower lip. With that, she snatched her backpack up from the ground, jammed her arms into the straps, turned, and began to walk back towards the way they'd come from. He watched her silently, waiting for her to duck back into the ranch, but she didn't; instead, she kept walking, as long as he could watch her, until she disappeared over the hill that fed into the horizon.

The old man watched her go, dumbfounded as she actually continued to walk instead of stopping as she always did. For a while, he hung around, waiting for her to come huffing back, but she still hadn't by the time the sun had fully sunk out of the sky. Eventually, he resumed moving himself, stopping after about a mile in their original planned direction, settling down for a grating night of looking out over the road at every little noise.

She'd never even looked back. He couldn't shake that thought from his mind as he sat there resting overnight. It was basically the only thought he had for hours, plaguing him as he puffed his inhaler and watched the world around him brighten with the rising sun.

When the next day started in full, he'd resolved to hit the road, to resume his travels as he would be resuming his existence before the girl had come along. Compared to how long he'd been exploring the desert solo, she'd been but a brief blip in his life, and there was no reason to fret so much over where she'd gone or what could happen to her without him around.

For some reason, he only covered about half the ground he would typically cover on a day like this, and he found himself beyond unreasonably frustrated...with himself. Nothing about the conditions was slowing him down; he didn't run into more trouble than usual, and he was fine on supplies, vials, but for some reason he found himself hypervigilant, looking for any excuse to move up high and scan the road with his binoculars.

By the time it was too dark to safely continue, he was seething once again, but at his weakness, at his cowardice. After he chose a tucked away little corner to settle down in for a few hours, he quite literally couldn't dig into his stash fast enough, doing line after line, hit after hit of whatever he had on him, until the horrible pain he felt behind his breastbone melted away into a familiar, soothing numbness.

But his numb mind liked to wander, and soon he found himself thinking about the softness of her voice, her skin, her lips against his that night...

And, quickly, he was back to pain and anger, but an irrational anger fueled by a far-more than reasonable dose of basically every kind of stimulant known to Wasteland man. This pain, too, was chased away with more and more chems, until he was so fucked up that he could barely keep his eyes focused and open.

She truly did plague him now, just as she had all the months she'd traveled with him. She plagued his thoughts at all points in the day, plagued his worries about the future, and even as he attempted to snort and huff himself free of the thought of her, she plagued him, dancing up along beside him in a quiet, stalking creep, watching him daintily from the end of the rotted log he sagged himself on, his back wedged against the large rock cluster behind him. At some point, he'd tugged his gloves off and shucked them somewhere nearby, leaving him feeling quite naked as his hands fretted with themselves absentmindedly. Against his will, he thought about running them through her hair like he'd wanted to for so long, and the unpleasant flip his stomach did made him sigh.

"I'm sorry." came a voice on the breeze, so much like hers. The visions of her were persistent, annoyingly so, the one staring hauntingly at him from the side really starting to unsettle him. He was no stranger to visual and auditory hallucinations when he was this far gone, but she was so solid-looking out of the corner of his eye, watching him so close. Judging him and what a fuck-up he was.

He squeezed his eyes shut hard, willing her away, willing himself to go back a few days and redo this entire thing differently.

"Aren't you...gonna say anything?" came the soft, timid voice once more, this time from beside him. Firmer, realer.

He narrowed his eyes in her ghostly direction, focusing as best as he could on her blurry, swimming visage.

"Huh. Didn't know that was really you."

When had she arrived, exactly? Fuck, he was dangerously gone if she'd been able to sneak up on him like that.

She frowned at that, leaning close and sizing him up with worrying eyes. Gingerly, she placed her palm on the back of his bare hand.

"Jeez, Cooper. How fucked up are you?" she asked, her tone sincere, almost apologetic.

Her glaring worry burned into him as judgment, harsh and stinging, and he struck out in response, yanking his hand away.

"Mind your fuckin' business." he slurred, forcing himself to sit up straight enough to point his full anger in her direction, growing with each passing moment. "Think you're better'n me? Hmm?"

He'd fully expected this to ignite another yelling match between the two of them, but she didn't scream back; instead, she quietly dropped her head, avoiding his eyes as she gazed around where he'd chosen to bed down. Truly, he was quite impressed she'd managed to find him at all, let alone in the dark. Turns out he was rubbing off on her even more than he'd thought. The idea left him bitter.

A big part of the anger he felt, the ugliest, most violent part, was the Jet; he knew this. The stuff had gotten him into more than his share of scuffles through the years, making him even meaner than usual, his sharp tongue exact and piercing. However, beneath the amphetamine fog, there was a nugget of true bitterness, an open wound of insecurity that pained him into lashing out when she tried to come close. He'd lashed out in such a way that night at the hotel, despite how hard he'd tried to hold back his sour words.

There was a fear there that he'd felt before, but never so strongly as when he'd watched her disappear over that hill. If she'd tried to leave over that relatively small argument, when would she try to leave again? He wasn't a pleasant man to be around, even when he actually tried to be, a lot of the time. Hell, he wasn't even pleasant to look at; if he'd been a giant prick in his old life, at the very least, he had been handsome.

Increasingly, since she'd come into his life, he tried to reach deep, deep into himself and pull out whatever remained of the old him, the one who was kind and hopeful and actually knew how to talk to women, but the process was infinitely more difficult and painful than he'd imagined.

She clearly wanted and needed intimacy from him, on more than one front, and the pressure of feeling like he couldn't give her what she needed was increasingly getting to him in a way that embarrassed him more than he could possibly say (not that he'd ever say it out loud). Centuries of time had passed, and yet, here he was, still dealing with the same anxieties and feelings of inadequacy that he had before, just dressed up in a new, uglier face.

When would he finally succeed in pushing her away, in frightening her away from him 'for her own good'? The walls around him had never failed him before, for better or worse.

Things were quiet between them as she fidgeted in her spot, the tension of an inescapable conversation in the air, but the desert's constant score, the hiss of sand across corroded asphalt, the soft rattle of the wind in the rocky hills, played on. His muddled ears played tricks on him, making him hear murmurs and distant gunshots and the crack of his rifle butt into that farmhand's face, but he tuned them out, focusing on her steadying, but increasingly heavy breathing, his eyes unable to leave her mouth..

He let himself drink in the fact that she really was there, sat on her knees in the dirt before him and already begging him for his forgiveness, for his acceptance; corporeal, flesh and blood and her sweet smell and that wet, warm place between her legs. Only in his drug-induced private fantasies had he felt it, but he knew he wanted to bury himself there, as deep as possible, and never let her pull away.

"I really am sorry, Coop." she whispered, those big, round eyes brimming with big, wet tears. It wasn't difficult to see her sincerity, even as he struggled to focus. But that hot coal of bitter anger still smoldered in his gut; not replaced by the lust he felt, but fed by it.

Slowly, his own movements labored under the weight of too many substances, he reached out and ran the thumb of his sullied glove along her smooth, smooth cheek. Smearing the trail of wetness there until he was tracing the outline of those pouty lips, he pushed it into her mouth.

"Prove it."

She let out a pitiful little retch, though whether it was from the taste of the incredibly filthy material, or because he was shoving her tongue back in her throat and gagging her with it, he didn't know. What he did know was that the sound made his cock twitch, which was already more blatant sexual desire than he'd felt in ages.

"How?" she asked, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand as he pulled his own away. The wetness that trailed from his thumb, from her lips, made him feel feverish, and he quickly knotted his hand into the thick, soft hair at the back of her head, yanking her so close that their noses would've been touching, had he still had one. When her wide eyes met his, not so much as a sound escaping her lips at the sensation in her scalp, he finally gave in and harshly mashed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sigh that escaped her as he did.

Cooper was unsure how long they kissed, how long he plundered her swollen, eager mouth with his tongue before she stumbled onto her knees, pulling back slightly to pull air into her lungs. As she hovered there, eyes closed as she attempted to gather herself, he dug deep into the pocket of his duster and withdrew a Jet container, giving it a shake to prime it as she righted her breathing. Once she was steady once more, he cupped the back of her head again, bringing her to him and lifting it to her mouth. There was hesitation in her eyes, then disgust as the chem filled her lungs. It touched him with a twinge of amusement, knowing how badly the stuff tasted, watching her retch harder than before. He let her cough for a few seconds, allowing her a few half-cocked breaths of air before shoving the thing back between her lips and holding it down even longer.

By the time she managed to stop sputtering and drooling, he'd had a hit of his inhaler and started stroking his increasingly hard cock through his pants, watching her closely as she raised her now bleary, glassy eyes towards him. He waited for her to mouth off, to complain, to remark on anything that had happened, but instead, she sat there, unmoving, waiting for his instructions. She was the picture of obedience, but nevertheless, he could still see that glint of outrage behind her gaze, waiting to argue with him the moment she sensed an opportunity.

It pissed him off more than he thought possible, and, before he could even think to stop himself, he lashed out and slapped her across the face, the blow landing squarely in the center of her cheek and making her head turn away from him slightly. Surprising him again, she didn't make a sound, but she also didn't correct her head to look back at him.

Pulling a long drag off of the Jet inhaler himself, he held it deep in his lungs as he grabbed her by her long hair to kiss her again, exhaling the stuff right down into her lungs. She kissed him back until she choked on the sensation, leaning away to spew and cough more.

"Wanna prove you're sorry?" he hissed, his brain buzzing with the fresh hit as she leaned against his knee. "Clean my boots, vaultie. Show a little humility for once in your life."

His words were mean, meaner than he should be right now, but she didn't seem to register their full weight as she struggled to focus her eyes on the boots in question. When she lifted those dark, glassy pools back to his, he could see she knew what he meant, a heavy blush staining her cheeks and neck. Of course she knew what he meant; she was a smart girl, and her brain worked so much like his, even if she wouldn't freely admit it.

She looked up at him so dreamily through those thick lashes, though whether it was real affection in her eyes or simply the haze from all the Jet he'd forced down into her lungs, he couldn't tell.

In truth, his boots weren't as filthy as they could've been, as he'd cleaned the farmhand's blood off of them the night she'd taken off to get rid of the smell. But it wasn't about cleanliness; no, she'd humiliated him, her and her spoiled, entitled vault-dweller attitude, when she ran off, and he wanted to see her humiliate herself a little in kind.

The woman kneeling before him didn't hesitate as much as he'd thought she would, the red outline of his palm and fingers seeming to glow on her cheek in the dying firelight as she cast a vaguely-seeing glance around her, measuring her space before pulling herself into a sort of downward dog position, her round ass in the air as her marred cheek rested softly on the sandy ground. There was a moment of quiet tension as she seemed to study it, planning her approach before rather timidly leaning forward and running her tongue along the side, swiping a clean stripe across the tarnished black material from ball to toe. She gagged at first, likely from the dryness of the dust, but, again, she didn't complain.

He didn't have to tell her to clean the other boot; she did it with no prompting as soon as the first was finished, gagging less as she ran her pretty pink tongue all along the sullied, scuffed leather, and he couldn't believe how much it turned him on while equally failing to quell his indignation, his disappointment. Before she'd really finished her work, he yanked her up by her hair again; this time, she let out a slight yelp of surprise as he dropped her onto her ass, gesturing to her shabby, scavenged armor with one hand as the other began to wrestle his ammo belt, then his actual belt, open.

"Take that shit off."

Again, she did as he asked with only a moment's pause, placing all the little pieces of boiled leather and metal off to the side, her eyes flitting to him for a heartbeat before she proceeded with the rest of her clothes, quickly exposing herself completely. He could see her well in the moonlight, but not as well as he'd have liked, leaving her standing there, vulnerable and shivering ever-so-slightly as he took a good, long look at her. He was painfully hard at this point, desperate to have at least some minor relief from the confines of his trousers, but he was also uncharacteristically nervous at the idea of exposing himself to her this way. Beckoning her forward, he used her distraction as she kneeled once more to pull his cock free, grateful for the darkness and her weaker eyes.

"Suck me." he growled.

While he wasn't exactly pleased at how entirely fucked up he'd been going into this, he was sort of grateful that he couldn't feel almost anything with any vivid detail across the expanse of his body; the visual of her wrapping her dainty little fingers around him and obediently leaning down to take him into her mouth alone would have been enough to finish him if he'd have been able to feel her properly.

The way she went about it also seemed to indicate she wasn't entirely experienced, simply sliding her mouth down over his cock and setting to finding a pace that she could handle, as everything was surely spinning for her. For a while, he let her do so, fingers knotting into her hair again, before his patience wore thin and he began to push her head downwards, the sound of her gagging once more sending a thrill up his spine. Even with the numbness from the most recent hit seeping through him, he wasn't able to keep it up long before he yanked her back, taking in the drool hanging down from her swollen lips.

Cooper gave his spit-slicked cock a few firm tugs, hissing from between his worn teeth at her as he sat back, making room for her on his lap.

"Now get up here and show me you know who you belong to."

She didn't even look towards her bag, towards the condoms he knew she kept tucked deep inside her little toiletry pocket, as she quickly and sloppily pulled herself up into his lap. A part of him knew that he'd have stopped her if she did try to put one on him.

He tried so hard to not think of Barb as the pretty young thing on top of him began to sink down and envelop his cock in her heat, tried so hard to not feel guilty for giving himself to another, and he failed miserably. She felt heavenly, tighter and warmer and sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he hated himself for how much he loved it, for how alive it made him feel when for so long he'd simply been existing. The choked noise that left his dry throat as the aching head of him fully breached her wasn't a sob, but he wouldn't have known what to call it.

It must've seemed to her, he thought, that he was forcing her to do all the work out of anger, wanting her to fully prove that she wanted him, that she was his; this was true, but he was also terrified, deep down, of how he would react if he allowed himself to freely touch her the way he wanted. He feared he would literally rip her limb from limb in his intoxicated state, sink his teeth into her pillowy flesh until it bled, tear a chunk off of her and swallow it so that she could be part of him forever.

He couldn't tell if the way she huffed and whimpered her way down his length was because she was high and hypersensitive or because she'd never been with a man this way before. That thought was quickly and harshly banished from his brain, however, his hands finding the plush fat of her hips, fingertips digging hard into the soft, supple flesh.

"Good pup." he breathed out when he eventually felt her ass rest on his thighs, fully sheathing him inside her.

The whimper she let out in response, her tight little clasp quivering around him as she clumsily reached out and braced her hands on his shoulders, made him throb hard, leaving him at least slightly grateful for his intoxication once again. If his numbed brain and body had been able to feel her fully, he knew he would've absolutely shot his load already.

Cooper struggled to stay still as she moved experimentally on top of him, lifting and lowering and grinding herself a few different ways before she found a rhythm that made him let out a throaty moan, the ghost of a smile flashing across her sleepy face as she rode away at him for a while.

What he really wanted, deep beneath all the unwanted feelings and unanswered questions about things he didn't want to think about right now, was to knock her up. For so long now he'd thought of her as his, and now that he'd claimed her, he wanted nothing more than to see her round and full to the brim of him. He wanted her to need him, to be completely dependent on him to provide for her and keep her safe.

He wanted her too vulnerable to get away from him.

On top of him, her movements were rapidly losing all coordination as her glossy, heavy eyelids drifted shut, her head nodding violently as she struggled to maintain her pace. He'd given her too much for someone who didn't use regularly, someone her size, and she was crashing out, falling asleep against her will right there. Poor thing.

He slapped her again, the sound ringing out across the vast, empty desert, watching closely as she startled back into a fully upright posture, her hips stilling for a moment before slowly beginning to churn again, her gaze unfocused.

"Mmm." she murmured groggily, leaning forward and placing her forehead against his shoulder, her arms winding around his neck as she tried her best to keep in some sort of motion.

This gesture, the way she cuddled up to him and sought comfort, support from him, even after the way he'd treated her, the fact that he'd literally just slapped her awake, was the only thing she'd done thus far that truly quelled the ugly, raging anger inside him.

"Thought this stuff was s'posed to wake you up." she sighed into the crook of his neck. She was entering the peak of her high, her body pitifully liquid against his chest as she clearly struggled to stay upright.

Personally, Cooper was reaching the un-fun part of his comedown, where everything started to feel grating and the mind began to uncloud, providing an increasingly painful level of clarity, but the senses remained muddled in a way that provided more discomfort than relief.

"Usually does. You had too much, baby." he responded, the mild chastisement in his tone doing a poor job of hiding the guilt behind it. His naked hands stroked reverently at her back, at the long, wind-swept hair that flowed down it, mindful to hold her so that she wouldn't lilt too far to one side as he attempted to soothe her.

Familiar with the unpleasant swimming sensation too much Jet could give you, he let her relax fully against him, the small sigh she let out one of gratitude as her whole body sagged even further. But she didn't stop grinding against him, probably out of some sort of pleasure for herself, he figured as he could feel her greedy insides tugging around him. He hid his grin again, this time in the crook of her neck as his hands found her hips once more, easily lifting her a few inches before dropping her down again, bouncing her on his cock as she rested.

Things went on like that for a spell, him bobbing and rocking her naked, lax body on top of his as she curled up on his shoulder, cooing and nodding off from time to time. As his high wore off, the sensitivity in his body was returning, and it made her feel more and more overwhelming as he continued to fuck her, her hot, wet little cunt leaking all over him as he continued to use her body to get himself off.

She seemed to be more conscious now than before, though barely, jostled awake by the increasing force of his thrusts up into her, bare breasts heaving with the movement. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to trace his lips down her chest, sealing them around her puffy, erect nipple and swiping his tongue along her slightly salty flesh. In response, her arms tightened around his neck, holding him on her breast as she clenched around him hard.

"Cooper." she whimpered, and that single little sound pushed him right into what felt like the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had, his fingers digging into her hips far too hard as he dropped her full weight onto him, grinding her down onto his cock and yanking her against him. His head dropped back, dead weight as he let out a feral snarl, tapering off into a throaty moan.

As he throbbed his gift up inside her, she squirmed at the feeling, tucking her bright red face into the side of his neck in what read as slight embarrassment, giving little huffs and whimpers as he continued to fill her. Another, smaller wave of guilt nagged at him as she clung to him, as he held her as close as he possibly could, struggling to regain control of his breathing; even if she'd had sex before, she'd never done this.

He held her as long as she could tolerate, her grip around him loosening slowly as she moved closer to real sleep. His girl was exhausted through and through, lightly snoozing against his chest.

For a few minutes, he let her rest uninterrupted, scanning her over to assess how badly he'd fucked up. She seemed fairly intact, though certainly more bruised than before. Eventually, he went digging into her bag, knowing (hoping) that she would have Radaway somewhere, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he found some jammed into the bottom.

Only one dose; he would have to find her more, and soon. This would be enough to see her through the next day, though, and he was pleasantly surprised to note that she wasn't showing even minor signs of radiation sickness as he found a vein in her arm, starting up the intravenous line to administer the thick, yellowed solution. Surprisingly, she didn't rouse fully when he slid the included needle into place, but she did begin to stir and groan mildly as the stuff began to effuse. Dimly, he remembered being given it when he'd been in the service, and how shitty it could make you feel.

Softly, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his bare knuckles before setting to jabbing her with a Stimpak from his bag around where she'd stuck some staples in her belly, making a note to ask her what had given her the several inches-long laceration he saw there.

He hesitated, though, when he moved to give her a dose of Med-X he'd dug out from the depths of his saddlebag. Most of the Wasteland's mind-rotting and pain-soothing substances were on the table for him, and in great amounts, but he hated the way the opiate made him sluggish and sleepy, reducing his accuracy in a fight significantly. The pain relief it provided wasn't worth it if he ended up dead anyway.

Smoothskins loved it, though, so he usually kept a few syringes on him for bartering purposes. Never did he think he'd be happy to give so much of his stash away for free.

He knew she must be hurting, or, she would be when she woke up, whenever that was. But he was hesitant to give her anything else, both for fear of how she would react, and, somewhat selfishly, because he knew a proper dose would make her sleep even longer, and he was desperate to actually get to speak with her again.

If she asked for the stuff, he'd give it to her. But...tomorrow. After they'd gotten a chance to discuss everything that had happened with cooler, more sober heads. After he was sure she wouldn't wake up in the morning and hate him for what he'd done to her.

His fingers played softly in her mussed hair as the indigo cover of night faded into the periwinkle of twilight, washing her nearly grey in his arms. She slept hard awhile, undisturbed until the awkward angle of her neck made him gently resettle her into a more comfortable-seeming position, letting her slip down until she was curled up in a ball on her side in his lap, her head supported in the crook of his elbow. Lying this way, he'd have to hold her up while she slept, but he found himself strangely excited at the prospect.

"M'sorry I ran away." she murmured suddenly after a long period of silence, readjusting herself in his lap to curl closer.

"I know, kid. I forgive you." he replied after a moment of hesitation, the words soft and strange as they formed on his lips. He petted her hair as gently as he could manage. "Did a good job findin' your way back to me, pup. Proud of you."

"Mmm. Please don't be mad at me." she echoed his own thoughts softly, so slurred as she finally began into unconsciousness that it was barely intelligible, her face buried in his side.

"I'm not." he said, fully, completely honest for once in his long life. He let his eyelids rest, his hand on his gun, ready to stop anyone who would try to ruin this quiet moment under the fading stars. "I promise. Now, get some sleep, pup. I know you came a long way today."

She sighed at that, as if to say "You have no idea." before flopping loosely into his arms, and was snoring lightly within a minute. He allowed himself a small smile at this, at how earnest and adorable she was.

"Good girl." he murmured.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv show #fallout prime #ghoulcy #vaultghoul #submission

[malewifehenrycooldown]

the first thing I did after completing my assessments was to dig out and set up my old xbox360 which has been gathering dust in the cupboard, and then started playing mvc3. And finally took the time to get used to all of the character's moves and stuff - and also finally started doing the arcade mode, which is very rewarding <3

I would be playing this game again today, but after yesterday and the night before, I can't because my left hand hurts :/

#yes i know there's an update yeah whatever i was a dumb kid when i got the game and didn't really bother to #update the game sorry! #shallow rambles #before anyone asks yes i do intend on maybe getting the ultimate version for another console #a thing about the game that i found out is that each character has like. different levels of health? which is very bizarre to me #you are a fighting game yes but i don't remember health bars being like that. i mean that's a VERY specific design decision #i guess the best way to describe it is that maybe some characters do more attacks than others so to compensate for that they are given #either less health or more health. that said giving jean grey the LOWEST health is really insulting like c'mon she's the host to a cosmic #being! she should have more than that! ugh. man the lack of female characters on the marvel side is SOOO telling. #i get that maybe they didn't include some because their mechanics would be the same to x y z characters #but marvel's catalogue of characters has a DIVERSE range of women with unique powers that they can have in a fighting game #like illyanna or proxima midnight or ms marvel or emma frost there are so many characters to chose from!! But no they choose modok :/ #shallow once again complaining about video games that she likes.

[clonerightsagenda]

May I ask what the 'no sex in space' rant is? Zero G sounds like fun :<

The space sex rant is my passion. Possibly because I have no emotional investment in the act so when it gets broken down into weird biology and mechanics by the cruel forces of physics, I find it kind of fascinating.

Sticking this below the cut because it will get long. My primary source is Packing for Mars by Mary Roach, but A City on Mars gets into the same issues. Yes, at least two books have entire chapters devoted to the space sex problem.

Note that this is all assuming microgravity. Many of the problems go away if you have artificial gravity, which we haven't cracked yet beyond building centrifuges. Your Star Trek fanfics are safe. So without further ado, and in no particular order, reasons why you probably shouldn't have sex in zero gravity and it probably wouldn't be that fun if you did:

The infamous 'no boners in space'. Since we're evolved to live in gravity, our bodies compensate for it by putting more effort into getting fluids above our heart. In microgravity, that's unnecessary, so you end up with fluid shift - more fluids, including blood, in the upper body. Your total blood volume also goes down. This would make an erection more difficult, and in fact most astronauts interviewed for whom this would be relevant claimed they didn't get any. The outlier here is Mike Mullane, but having read his memoir, he is the kind of guy who would lie about that. Now, as I touched on while despairingly liveblogging Barrayar, that does not prevent you from having a good time. However less blood flow would presumably mean less sensation in general for anyone below the belt. Or if you stimulated too much blood flow, with the lower total blood volume, perhaps that 'got dizzy because I got horny' joke will actually come true.

In microgravity, body heat and CO2 don't disperse the same way they do in regular atmosphere. Astronauts have to make sure they sleep in well-ventilated areas and are also trained on symptoms of CO2 poisoning. If multiple people are in an area exerting themselves, that buildup will happen faster and would need to be taken into account. It would be super embarrassing to suffocate crammed into a closet for some hanky panky.

The laws of motion are not your friend here. I've seen videos of astronauts pushing themselves across the room with a strand of hair. If you're trying to hold onto someone, you'd either want a relatively small space (maybe not a great idea, see point 2) or hold on really well. One astronaut Mary Roach interviewed suggested duct tape. Perhaps fuzzy handcuffs are critical here. Still you're going to need to put a lot of thought into every move you make.

Space is gross. :( Right now astronauts just wipe themselves down with clothes and dry shampoo. "Skin flakes" is a serious problem. Also we're still not entirely sure why, but astronauts develop awful body odor. According to Mary Roach again, while armpits are famous as a BO source, apparently the crotch is as well, it's just that those regions are typically further from our nose. So idk if anyone's going to want to get that close and personal with anyone else while they're up there. Then again I'm sure people have hooked up in grosser situations.

I'm probably forgetting some tidbits since I just woke up, but in summary, zero gravity sex would need to be carefully choreographed, require some equipment (fan, fasteners), and probably wouldn't even be as enjoyable as its Earthnorm counterpart. It's a good thing that's not what anyone's up there for.

#terrible space facts #does this count as nsfw? idk #talking about sex in a mostly clinical fashion

[artofshinga]

A bit ago I did a whole-ass set of warlocks based on D&D 5e subclasses - mostly for fun and also because my RP group was planning a warlock game. I didn't HAVE to draw one of each but doing so DID help me decide which one I wanted to play (this is, to note, why the characters are all pretty fem-coded - because that's my favorite to RP) Anyway, after I drew them all, folks asked if I'd do other classes too. And I was like, maybe? But, sorcerer did sound fun to do this with so over the last few months I've been working on them kinda on the side while I put most my energy in, like, the commissions I need to finish lol. But here, a bunch of theoretical sorcerers I'd personally play in a game:

Let's start us off with Iris, a half-elf who'd be living a pretty normal life in a normal job (I was thinking she was probably a waitress or somethin) until she finds something weird - a piece of a meteor or something, you know how it goes. Suddenly she has powers, and that's where her adventure would begin More sorcerers under the cut!

Tally I struggled with because, as it turns out, little mechanical fairy wings are complicated to draw. BUT also fun - I liked the idea of a fairy who's lost her wings and while she's trapped in the material plane she befriends a clockmaker who builds her little wings for her and eventually her magic ends up kind of syncing up with the mechanical way he teaches her about the world

Elysia was actually the last one I drew, since I have a DIFFERENT Divine Soul sorcerer I've already designed and want to play as a priority, but then I happened to see something about Greek gods while watching TV one day and thought, oh hey, that'd be a fun way to play with a divinity-themed sorcerer - maybe a musician that caught the affections of a god who blessed her with magic

Cherish is a cheerful tiefling working at an inn with her former-adventurer mother. We can guess what sort of things her mother got up to in her adventure since she ended up raising a child with some mysteriously draconic features

NGL Aine was just a way for me to play with some of the inspirations I used to cling to as a kid. Sailor Moon and other various bits of anime and JRPGs and such that I loved in my youth and used a LOT to inspire art. I wanted to remember that - and a catgirl wearing too many belts sounded perfect for that

Leila is probably my weirdest - she's SPECIFIC, like if there's a campaign set in the Shadowfell or something, I imagined a maid working in a mansion that gets magicked away to this realm and her gaining that shadow power when it happens

One of my first 5e characters was a storm sorcerer - more focused on rain and lightning and thunder. I used the same hair color and close to the same skin color to make this new storm sorcerer as a bit of a nod to that character, and wanted this one more focused on winter storms (including making her a winter eladrin elf)

and last but certainly not least, Gemma the halfling cursed with wild magic. I think she started off her adventuring life with a thieves' group before they found the wrong magic artifact. You know how it goes

#sorcerer #divine soul sorcerer #storm sorcerer #wild magic sorcerer #aberrant mind sorcerer #clockwork soul sorcerer #draconic bloodline #lunar sorcerer #shadow magic #tiefling #half elf #halfling #eladrin #tabaxi #fairy

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Welp, it's Nikke, so of course I'm gonna request Rapi, Anis & Neon who catch their S/O staring at their ass (not in battle, just during free time)

(GoV: NIKKE) Rapi, Anis, and Neon's S/O looking at their butt

NSF-W IMPLICATIONS (Obviously, though this is more humorous than lewd)

Of course this is literally the first ask I get for Nikke. ...Well, at least you had the politeness to not do so during combat.

A/N: Okay I genuinely forgot how NIKKE throws ass in your face first thing when you're playing, especially Rapi's.

Rapi detects S/O's IFF behind her while she is near the counter, organizing some paperwork.

At first, she smiles due to their presence-

-...Before quickly realizing S/O's heat signature seemed to be rising on their cheeks.

(Rapi) "S/O. I would kindly ask for you to keep your eyes above my waist."

(S/O) "S-Sorry! I was just...Um...It looks nice, at least!"

She can't help the blush that's currently making her core overheat as well.

Rapi immediately turns around and reprimands S/O by gently flicking them on the forehead, careful that her mechanical finger didn't actually harm them.

(Rapi) "Thank you, but do not stare when there's the risk of someone walking in."

Before they could get a word in, she shook her head.

(Rapi) "A-And, that is not an invitation to stare in private either!"

The single stutter was enough to tell S/O how flustered Rapi was.

Being complimented by someone she loved was usually enough for her systems to simulate the phenomenon of "butterflies in her stomach", but in this case it was definitely different.

Thank the goddess that it was just them in the room at the moment. She did not want Anis's commentary on this situation.

Granted, her wardrobe did admittedly make it hard for S/O not to notice.

...Maybe she should change wardrobes when at the base, or at least wear something longer.

Anis was lying down on the sofa, idly flipping through her phone with S/O in the same room.

She sighed before flopping over onto her back, glancing at S/O.

(Anis) "Jeez, could you be any more obvious about where you're staring, S/O?"

(S/O) "S-SORRY! I didn't mean to!"

Her eyes widened in surprise before scoffing.

(Anis) "Wait, seriously? I was just cracking a joke, wooooow!"

If S/O was anyone else, she'd probably just punch them in the face for that.

But, since it was them, she'd allow it...Not that she's going to say that, because it's pretty funny to watch them get flustered.

Though Anis wasn't completely immune herself.

Plus she didn't want to give the green light for S/O to be ogling her all day during their free time.

Anis was somewhat flattered that S/O thought she was pretty enough that they even stared to begin with.

As long as it was only just her, anyways, she'd remain flattered.

(Anis) "Had no idea you were such a pervert...Well, actually yeah I can, considering who your usual company is."

(S/O) "The Commander?"

(Anis) "Ah yes, because I'm definitely referring to the only guy on base at the moment, present company included."

Anis replied, rolling her eyes.

(Anis) "If I hear you staring at anyone else, your ass will be in trouble."

Neon was honestly busy focusing on adjusting the scope on her rifle, hoping that it would land an explosive shot more accurately on the range.

S/O was in the room, though strangely they had not said anything for a small period of time.

Were they focusing on something too?

Neon glanced back at S/O and noticed they were staring down.

...Meeting where their eyes were staring at, it was indeed her backside.

(Neon) "H-Hey! What the heck are you doing?!"

(S/O) "AH! Sorry, m-my mind just spaced out and!-"

Neon pouted, crossing her arms while her core began to overheat.

(Neon) "That's no excuse, you can't be staring at my butt while I'm focusing here!"

She wasn't careful with her volume, which meant that someone definitely overheard that line, much to the despair of S/O.

Neon however didn't really notice, and began loudly lecturing S/O how her butt was nothing compared to the power of the firepower she was going to unleash!

And at this point, S/O was starting to sound like the perfect target!

Anis heard the conversation and began snickering, ready to use it for teasing ammo later.

Rapi heard it and began blushing, trying her best not to pay it any mind.

The Commander simply sighed and went back to his paperwork, attempting to tune out Neon still talking.

#nsft #goddess of victory: nikke headcanons #goddess of victory: nikke imagines #goddess of victory: nikke x reader #rapi nikke x reader #anis nikke x reader #neon nikke x reader #rapi nikke #anis nikke #neon nikke

[kaicubus]

Radio Silence | Wednesday A.

warnings ✩° : fluff, isolation coping mechanism.

pairing ✩° : girlfriend!wednesday addams x girlfriend!reader

premise ✩° : after a small argument, its impossible for wednesday to come to terms with the fact that maybe just MAYBE she was in the wrong for once. only this once though.

word count ✩° : 1.8k

authors note ✩° : lord i am on my knees for ms jenna ortega...sorry this is soups short but i like it :}.

You might as well be dead.

Being ignored by Wednesday Addams, the same girl who cut the heads off of her porcelain baby dolls as a small child, was probably the worst thing you could've ever imagined yourself to be in. Especially now.

Sure, you grew up with Wednesday and you knew who she was and how she acted, but ever since you two started going out, your little arguments have been a little less than civil. Whenever you both would get into a fight, it never lasted long because you and her both knew you were 9 times out of 10, in the wrong. That wasn't a bad thing, it’s just that sometimes you read the room poorly, especially when it comes to your girlfriend, or you say something out a fit of rage that wasn't what you meant at all. But there's that 1 time where you'd actually be right, and Wednesday wrong.

That brings us to now.

For the past 4 hours, you hadn't heard from your girlfriend. Now, the amount of radio silence wouldn't concern you if you knew that Wednesday was out hunting some criminal or being the criminal herself, instead, you didn't know what she was thinking at all.

Learning how to speak Wednesday Addams was as easy as trying to figure out a 1830s style telegraph with nothing but a usb charger. But that didn't mean you were going to give up so easily, in fact, what if you wanted to learn how to know how to use an 1830s style telegraph?

Thinking back to your fight, it wasn't even that severe. It was just a playful argument over ‘I know this better than you’ but obviously you were the only one with the fighting energy. All Wednesday did was keep up with your joking tone and give all right answers, definitions, and history, to all except one.

The slip up embarrassed her, but she didn't show it. Instead, she cornered herself away and refused to let anybody in, including Enid who came to you asking if she can stay in your dorm for the night since Wednesday had Thing change the locks to both the main door and the windows. Soon though, you finally mustered up the courage to say enough is enough and confront your girlfriend that it wasn't even a big deal. She’s just a sore loser.

“But I never lose.” You can almost hear her say in the back of your head as you travel up the stairs with your hand trailing over the rusted railing, “It’s one of my many talents where I always win. No matter what. If I lost, you wouldn't hear from me ever again.” It was fear holding you back that what she said before as kids would eventually prove its truth, but another thing you can hear Wednesday say in your mind was that, “People don't like hearing the truth. So it’s what I say all the time. I don’t lie. Not even for my own benefit.”

Finally, you reach the top of the stairs and come face to face with the shared dorm between your girlfriend and Enid. Your eyes look down at the doorknob that is indeed, changed.

“Thing really replaced the doorknob too? What the hell...” You mutter to yourself and give it a wriggle. No response. Maybe another wiggle? Again, no response.

You drop your shoulders and sigh, “Wednesday? Wednesday open the door, I know you're in there.”

You're right. On the other side of the door, Wednesday sits curled into a tight ball, holding the tops of her knees close to her chest and staring deadpanned onto the center of the floor. Her eyes dart, catching each speck of dust that falls onto the wooden flooring as well as Enid’s sickeningly hot pink rug. When she gets stressed or chooses to isolate herself, her senses are hyper focused on little things, things she can count, things that remain constant and steady.

In fact, it’s the whole reason why she likes the color black so much. Black is constant no matter what shade it is. Unlike colors, black is consistent and therefore calm, like an inescapable blanket of suffocating darkness.

With another knock against her back, Wednesday blinks and realizes she’s lost track of her dust particle count forever ago. All she can hear is the timed knocking, each set 2 minutes apart exactly.

Wednesday rubs her temples in annoyance but still refuses to sit up and open the door. Maybe if she stays really still and doesn't make a peep, you’ll realize that she’s not there and you’ll go away. How can she even face you after she made a complete and utter fool out of herself? Confrontation isn't her strong suit and neither is it yours, but just as you can’t stand this separation, she can’t either. No matter what she says about not needing anyone.

You let out another sigh and press your back flat against your side of the door. “Wednesday, you know it isn't a big deal right? What you said? We were just joking around. I thought you knew that?”

She did not.

“I think it’s funny though, in a good way, how you kept fighting for you to be right. It was cute. But...I can see how it hurt you knowing you were wrong. I feel like that all the time when I talk to you about things.” You rub your ankles and look down, “You always know what to say and when to say it. But you know, it’s ok to make mistakes or have misinformation. I don’t mind, you know.”

All Wednesday could do is stare at her knees, blankly and listlessly, occasionally looking over at Thing who just looks at her with a disappointed look. For a hand, he’s very expressive. She rolls her eyes at him and they both continue to listen.

“Hey, if it were up to me? I’d rewrite that entire article and the book that says you're wrong, just for you to be right. I never wanted to embarrass you or anything like that. I’m sorry I laughed that you finally got something wrong and I got right. I never wanted to make you feel bad about it. But I guess I did, and I’m really sorry.” The genuinity in your voice causes Thing to tap his fingers impatiently, signaling that he wants this whole feud to be over with already.

“If I want to forgive her, I do so on my own terms. Got it?” Wednesday whispers harshly to him. Thing spins around and jumps angrily. “No. I’m not doing that. I’m not a romantic, you know.” He flips back around and scurries across the floor, motioning she open the door already. “Leave it alone, Thing.”

With that, Thing walks over next to her and goes to knock on the door, but Wednesday quickly grabs him and squeezes him in between her tightly curled fists, stabbing her black nails into his skin. “I said. Leave it.”

A moment of silence washes over them as Wednesday continues to listen, curious as to what more you have to say.

“I don’t even know if you're in there, but I really hope you were. I’ll get going now, I love you Wednesday.” You stand up slowly, causing a dragging sound to be heard from her side. Just before she can react, Thing leaps out of her hand in her moments of reconciliation and jumps to the doorknob, shaking it vigorously and startling the two of you.

“Huh?” You turn around and see the doorknob shaking, then unlocking itself, and soon enough it flings open to reveal Wednesday sat on the floor looking mortified, her arm halfway hiding her face as her now gaping eyes stare into yours all with a straight face.

“Ah. Hi.” You say, watching her frozen like a statute collecting dust on a shelf, “Hello Thing. Was this your doing?” Glancing down, you make eye contact with the clearly delighted appendage bouncing around in agreement.

“Y/n.” Wednesday stands up quickly and looks up at you through her eyebrows, “I.” She opens her mauve lips but no words come out. You still wait for what she has to say next but something inside her stops her from speaking, as if something had been lodged in her throat preventing her from talking. Though it’s a sight to see Wednesday Addams speechless in sight of you, it’s also hard to have it go on for so long.

After all, Wednesday has never been wrong before in her life. So it’s hard to even think of a possible explanation for her actions and how silent she’s been with only the only sound in her room being the muffled sounds of her old fashioned radio playing aged, melodic, Spanish songs.

You break the silence by clearing your throat which forces her to blink, flustered and now realizing how much time has passed since she said your name before. 

Her dull eyes flicker around and she glances down at your feet, then at your hands, then at your chest, then finally back to your face, recognizing a sly smile clearly not serious at all. She fills her lungs with air in a deep inhale.

“I appreciate you saying that.” Wednesday says, swallowing her hidden pride, “It means a lot.”

You smile, boasting at her acceptance of your apology.

“But. I guess I too have to apologize for my absence.”

You reach your hand out to touch her, but end up retracting and holding your own arms instead, “No,” you shake your head, “You don’t have to Wednesday.”

“Y/n just let me apologize.” Her fingers tap on the inside of her forearm, signaling her impatience, “I didn't intend on...going completely radio silent on you...I got caught up. Thing told me I shouldn't have, but I had no choice.”

You both glance down at Thing who stomps around.

“You spent the entire time researching about what you got wrong?” Your eyes glimmer into Wednesdays. It’s almost enough to make her smile, but she chews it back quickly and nods instead, hiding her expression with her bangs. “That means a lot, Wednesday. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it again. Seriously.”

“Does this mean we’re good?” You smile now making it near impossible for her not to smile as well.

The girl stays motionless and instead offers you her hand. You look down strangely and tilt your head just enough to show your confusion as if it weren't prevalent enough in your pursed lips and narrow eyebrows.

“My hand is cold. Are you just going to stand there and not take it?”

Without hesitation, you move forward and take her hand happily, “Of course.”

There was no point in hiding it any longer. For all the time she had been away from you, it had been torture. Not the good kind either. But as she leans closer to you, she finds herself indulging in a small smile that warms her heart just as it does yours.

Her hand, ever so gently, creeps onto yours and just barely grazes her finger on your nail bed. Such a simple act would go unnoticed by any other set of people. But with you and Wednesday? It’s hard to ignore it.

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday fanfic #wednesday series #wednesday fic #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x y/n #fanfiction #wednesday addams fanfiction #kaicubus

[from-izzy]

[17:58] | tbz kim sunwoo

» ​PAIRING: tbz kim sunwoo x gn!reader (proofread a couple of times but pls tell me if i missed something!)​ » TROPE/AU​: friends to ??, friends to strangers, friends to 'just classmates', miscommunication (?) trope, i'm sorry i have no idea how to explain this tbh..., high school au!, non-idol au! » GENRE​: angsty hurt but fluffy comfort, 'friendship' breakup (with the intention of coming back together when time is right!), they both say "i love you" to each other and it's meant to be platonic but it can be interpreted romantically, if you do interpret it romantically then mutual pining that is somewhat figured out in the end???, sunwoo is also very comforting, loving, patient and understanding to reader's own worries and trusts reader in their personal journey as they figures out their own hardships in life » WORD COUNT: 3576​ » ESTIMATED READING TIME: 13 mins » WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!): hardships with past relationships with others, anxiety and fear regarding making bonds with other people, running away as a mechanism to escape reality

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'

how blessed i am to have you beside me when real life doesn't work out. how blessed i am to be able to go on the main chat and just be myself. how blessed i am to be able to call you my friends. how blessed i am to be accepted by people over the internet, who ended up supporting me in one of the hardest times of my life.

i love you all. i'm sorry that i'm unable to include everyone but i hope you know that in friendship groups, everyone has an effect on one another. even if person a isn't close to person c, person b may be the reason why you're still in the same group together. we all influence each other and i love you all so much.

i'm so sorry for everything.

"So what? That's it?"

The solemn tone in his voice makes the hues of orange and pink in the sky behind him take away the beauty of the scene you both love. It seemed that even the birds that would usually sing beautifully at this time stopped as soon as you opened the door of your house, knowing well who used his entire fist to bang on your door.

Sunwoo's bangs stuck to his forehead well, showing the physical exertion that his body took to get to your house. His school blouse is half untucked and you realise that maybe he rushed out of gym class in the last period because of his mismatched buttons and how his tie wasn't around his collar properly. His eyes flared with a hint of sadness though the confusion and anger masked most of the emotion behind. Your eyes diverted down to his untied shoelace. Usually, you would scold him and he would give that annoying smile to you, shrugging his shoulders and being completely relaxed whilst answering you with a "You're going to do it for me anyways." Judging by his slumped-over school bag, you guessed that he probably threw it to your 'welcome' carpet as soon as he arrived—even though he knew that he probably wasn't considering that you've been avoiding his entire presence for a whole month.

But even when Sunwoo looks at you with that heartbroken gaze straight to your tired, cold eyes, you don't utter any words to him. The slight bounce of your head made him turn his head away, clenched fists beside his body. You also found your arms crossing around your waist, palms hooked around your figure and your fingers wrapped around your body to ground the tears that you knew would flow if you didn't keep telling yourself to 'keep it together'.

"Don't you think I deserve some kind of explanation?" 

Just from a glance at him, you note the tiredness on his face even with his furrowed eyebrows. Not once did he raise his voice at you even though you can see how he's holding back with how tense his jaw is.

"God, Sunwoo." You exclaim to him with a sarcastic laugh after, "I get that we literally became the best of friends as soon as we met two months ago but shit happens and you can't expect an explanation for everything that happens."

"Of course not!" Sunwoo's voice rises though it doesn't seem to shock you. "Shit happens, I know! But at the same time, I never thought our friendship was so weak and insignificant that you could ignore me for more than a month. I know you read my messages! The app can't show me that but I know!"

"Ok fine, I did!" You spill the truth that you've been holding back. "What are you going to do about it? They’re my messages, not yours!"

Sunwoo didn't know how to counter that. Maybe there wasn't a way to counter the statement because it's true. But you both knew that the unresponded messages were only the tip of the iceberg of why Sunwoo finally decided to confront you for your isolation from him.

"What happened?" Fragile and weak, shoulder dropping closer to the ground, "Talk to me. I'm here for you."

And he breaks. 

The tears that he only released in his bedroom were finally showing itself. He didn't think that it would be infront of you first. He thought that maybe his other friends would see it first but that one tear that escaped was the start of his waterfall. 

"You wouldn't understand." You slightly scowl at the innocent boy, forcing the words between your teeth, "I mean that wholeheartedly and not from some cliche teen romance movie shit." 

The venomous response he gets to his genuine question only makes Sunwoo frown further and he verbally starts to express the tears from his eyes. Seeing him cry and swallow down his whimpers struck a chord in your own confusing heart as well.

The truth is that you're scared. 

You're scared as hell.

You're scared of the fact that even though you met Sunwoo two months ago, you grew so fast to him.

There were days that sometimes he would understand you more than your best friend of five years.

Do you know how scary that is? 

To connect with someone so fast that sometimes all you want to do after a long day is to text them about all the minuscule things to the bigger things that would make your jaw drop.

To open that messaging app, spam him with short sentences, and feel the guilt of passing the dot beside the other messages that your other friends sent first, to just open your conversation with him first?

The confusion that you finally felt at home with someone so quickly and that you felt that when you never expected it to happen? All you ever wanted from your relationship with others was to be included.

Kim Sunwoo did just that in a span of a month compared to five years.

You would spend nights figuring out how it happened but no matter how much you thought of it, you couldn't find that one specific message and timestamp both in your phone or memories of how you would wake up and just hope for a chaotic message from him. 

One mutual turned to two, which turned to three and the euphoric feeling increased exponentially. However, so did the fear escalated further when you got included in the group chat with the friends that he had before you both met. 

You have always been amazed at their friendship. Despite the small age difference here and there between each person, despite using honorifics to still respect that age gap, it never stopped the radiant chaoticness that they brought everywhere they went, in everything they did. Their personalities that are so different but work together so well to the point that it makes you believe that opposites do attract.

Their differing body clocks that would mean that the group chat never dies no matter where the clock hands land. Being able to connect with them, making genuine bonds through all the bullying (that is full of love), heart-to-heart or supportive conversations, relatable life struggles relating to schoolwork and living, fangirling about their achievements in life, asking for help with things that you’re confused about, the fun flirtings that would leave the others speechless—you realise that this is all you've ever wanted and the fact that you received it when you were at your lowest guard, scared every single part of you.

The very first few moments when you came, you were jealous of their bond, wondering how they became so close even through their differences. Then, as time passed and you inserted yourself in the conversations, it felt like you were flying across a cloudless sky, feeling reassured that your wings wouldn't get wet from the rain. After, you became scared of your presence with them, scared of ultimately breaking them apart.

But, do you know the irony of it all? 

You were the one who decided to ignore not only Sunwoo but every single kind-hearted person there. No one pushed that on you. But whenever they would post their photos on the group chat for distribution, reminisce their memories together, or when you would hear one of them talk about it with people outside the group chat, you find yourself jealous and hurt that you weren't part of it all.

Does anyone understand the confusion, guilt, self-hate and pain that it all brings?

"How do you know if I would understand or not if all you've done is left me on read in an app that can't even tell me that?"

Your breath hitches and your voice box only lets out a small gasp. Everything Sunwoo is saying is correct because everything is due to your insecurities and fear that everything will just fall apart. You truly believe in the fact that nothing lasts forever. That belief alone is the reason why you have trouble making friends.

Because for you, why would you put yourself in so much happiness that your cheeks would hurt from the laughter and smiles when you know that everything would end anyway?

But at the same time, your heart is trying to pull you in the opposite direction. Because in a similar logic, if you know that nothing lasts forever, why can't you just accept that fact and cherish him, the memories and the times that you could potentially spend together?

"Sunwoo," right now, you allowed the facts to speak out for you, refusing to follow what you truly wanted, "you have been blessed with the most lovely, encouraging and supportive group of friends. You and me," your index finger points to your chest after pointing at his, "we have experienced totally different friendships."

Sunwoo is beyond confused. Of course, he would be. You've never even given him a chance to understand your experiences. What you did was isolate yourself from him and the group chat that has given you hope that maybe, just maybe, this is your group of people. Your heart broke beyond what you could even comprehend when some of them personally sent a message to you, asking your whereabouts and hoping that you were doing well. On lonely nights as you monitor the cheerful group chat, all you can do is intertwine your hands together around your phone, the tips of your fingers turning white due to the pressure as you hold yourself back from including yourself in the fun conversation.

"Sorry but maybe I'm just not ready."

Sunwoo watches your blank stare, your eyes that used to be so full of glimmer and happiness are now void. He took in the fact that you were probably half-conscious at the current moment as you just stared at whatever was just above his shoulder in the distance but he didn't need to turn around to know that you were not focusing on anything in particular.

He wipes the tears that clouded his view of you before carefully asking, "For what?" 

Your shoulders rise but they hold their position for a second longer before falling back down, "For whatever this friendship is."

Your eyes catch the way his eyebrows crash together as well as the audible nervous gulp and shaky lips, "Is our friendship just 'whatever' to you now?" The volume decreases with each word in the question.

The heaviness in your heart that you carried the past month started to take its toll on your head and you closed your eyes to focus on the chilling wind hitting your face. Sunwoo watches quietly, still waiting patiently for you to ground yourself back to the present. The boy watches your arms untangle from your chest, dropping back to the side of your body and he finds himself wishing that if he stepped forward and opened his arms, you would reciprocate the same loving action back. 

But he knew you wouldn't. Not now when you flutter your eyes open so delicately with an emotion that he has never seen from you.

"I'll always love you, Sunwoo.” 

These are the words that manage to both break and put the pieces of his heart back together. There is no way he could admit it to you now, especially with how things are going but deep down in the lonely past month that he spent, it’s the exact words that he has been waiting and wanting to say to you as he wishes that he could hear it back from you. Now that he has heard it straight from you, not through written text or a voice message, but face to face, his world starts to rebuild itself slowly.

You both only focused on each other’s faces like it would be the last time you both would ever be able to do so. You straighten your back, no longer slumping and cowering away in fear now that you’ve said the words that have always been on your mind. With your slightly newfound confidence and a somewhat lighter heart, Sunwoo sees a bit of colour start to paint your once-pale skin. Your slightly pink cheeks that are in the same beautiful shade as your lips. Your eyelashes that flutter silently in the cold weather around you—and he finds himself wanting to bring your body in a hug to bring some warmth for you both—and finally, your eyes that held all the stories, ones spoken and unspoken, the same ones that he would eventually find himself thanking the teacher for assigning your seat next to his. 

In the silence that held many meanings for you both, you observe your best friend as well. Your neck tilts slightly to accommodate the height difference, watching how some of his bangs are now free from his sweat and are now in a mess due to the wind, his big round eyes that would disappear mischievously whenever he would tease you about something, only to soon have his bright, wide smile mirrored back to your face. You realise now more than ever that you may never see that cute gummy smile of his anytime soon. 

But you needed to be true to yourself. You needed to figure out your feelings first before you could commit to another friendship that could tear you apart once again. 

You needed to learn to love yourself again before you could go and introduce yourself to others.

Through your friendship with Sunwoo, though short and sweet but still special, you promise that after this, you will never put someone else in this kind of feeling ever again. Things would change from now on and there’s very little that you can do regarding your friendship with Sunwoo now, especially when you were the one who made the mess.

Maybe now after this revelation, he wouldn’t want to be near you anymore or maybe he will wait for you. Maybe he won’t tap on your shoulder anymore during class when you’re dazing off into the gloomy sky and just let you get in trouble with your teacher who will have called your name multiple times. Maybe as he passes by the hallway, his arms around his friends, he won’t even spare you a glance, reserving his smile for just them instead.

But again, there’s nothing you can do now. The words have been said and actions regarding the words have already been carried out.

Did you regret it? 

The shortest and fastest answer: Yes. 

Maybe you could’ve just come clean and told him how you feel. Sunwoo would then do that thing where you both would walk to the nearby park by the school and listen to your rants patiently, straightening and bending his legs as he sits on the swing to give him a bit of momentum, nodding thoughtfully to your worries. Then after, he would stretch his arm from behind the chains and pat your slumped back rhythmically. Just like every single time after that, you would both go for a bubble tea run before Sunwoo would panic text you about an assignment or homework that he forgot to complete and you would panic with him, helping him through the all-nighter that you both have gotten concerningly used to.

…gosh, why didn’t you just do that?

If this friendship was going to end anyway, why didn’t you take the easier, non-confusing, less painful way for the both of you? Why did you have to drag others through so much heartbreak just because of your cowardice? Why did you have to be so unthoughtful and unfair to everything and everyone that you genuinely love? You don't care if you have to get hurt as long as they're fine.

Please…just not them.

You are so unfair, unkind and selfish. He was the one pulling the weight of the friendship and you led him on blindly with that fake smile of yours, pretending that everything was fine. The audacity of you to even wish during the times when you cried alone underneath the blanket that he would forgive you. 

You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t—that thought also extended to your other ten dear friends too.

A few more minutes pass and you are the one who breaks the prolonged eye contact after putting the features of his face into your memory. Sunwoo could only let out a solemn smile, his feet planted still on the ground even though his legs shook a little bit and he clasped his hands together infront of him, looking down at the grey pavement of your entrance for the first time since he arrived.

“Okay.”

The words seemed more permanent than both of you liked but it was the only response that Sunwoo could give to you at the moment. He missed the way you dropped your head to face the ground. Your body moves to lean over to one side of the doorframe, both your hands reaching over to clench the white metal to keep your posture and emotions somewhat stable.

The bag that was in your field of vision gets dragged away from your figure and you know from the shadow that Sunwoo is dusting off the dirt, ready to walk away for the day—from the friendship that you ruined. The sun behind him has almost fully hidden itself behind the taller buildings that you would have always thanked whenever you were in your room, wanting to get away from its scorching heat and intense light but now, you wished it would stay around longer…just a little bit longer. 

But maybe, Sunwoo is your sun and he hears your internal pleading because he steps forward, his everyday school sneakers coming into your view. 

“Whenever you’re ready, alright?”

Maybe it was your growing heartache and headache but the way he mutters it, just a volume above the singing crickets as the birds retreat their song for the day, seemed genuine. Most importantly though, it didn’t seem permanent at all. It’s almost as if Sunwoo is telling you indirectly that he will always wait for you. To tell you to figure out your internal fight first but that he’ll always give you a helping hand and that boba treat if you ever call him for help. To tell you that he will always get you in trouble during class and stick his tongue out if he’s successful. To tell you to stop ignoring him in school now that he is getting some sort of closure from you. 

Thankful for the memories and comfort, your head rises from the depths of your darkness and Sunwoo shines brighter than the huge star behind him. For what you both know will be the last one in a while, Sunwoo purposely lets out a loud sigh, one that is playful and is accommodated by the upturned corner of his lips before resting his open palm on the top of your head.

“I will always wait for you.” 

To his words, the stars in your eyes fell and for once, you were glad that you finally showed your tears to him. You hoped that he would know just how much you are genuinely sorry for all of this. Giving him an actually convincing nod that he seemed to accept. You watch your best friend stuff his hands inside his pocket, turning away from your front door and walking his way back down the stairs to being just classmates—just for now.

No more words were exchanged after and everything seems to pass by excruciatingly slow. Neither of you had the courage and strength left in your being to call out for the other anymore. Sunwoo would go back to his friends and you would be left alone but that’s alright because you love them all. You would gladly kick yourself out of the picture if it meant that there would be no awkwardness or unsettling feeling in the group.

As soon as Sunwoo disappears from your sight, he takes all the happiness and warmth that he would offer to you unconditionally, but you also hope that he left all his worries and frustrations here at your front door. The clicking of the door when you close it is empty and the dragging steps that you take to the other end of the hallway to your room are still heavy. You had no more words for the devil in your head that laughed at you victoriously, the insecurities bouncing from the purple walls of your room as you sat at the edge of your bed.

But when your phone turns on with a notification that you didn’t expect, you know that the angel inside your head will be working their hardest to strengthen your mindset. There, visible from your lock screen is a new message from Sunwoo. Between your sniffles, you manage to let out a momentary chuckle at the new profile picture: Sunwoo behind you wrapping his arms around your neck, holding his phone out on selfie mode for the both of you to smile at��it’s the latest picture of you both. Your eyes then divert to the new message, one that would push you to keep going until you could face him once more and be back in his arms:

“I’ll always love you too.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 'especially to you...' tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎���️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

#deoboyznet #k-labels #k-films #the boyz #tbz #sunwoo imagines #kim sunwoo x reader #sunwoo x reader #tbz x reader #kim sunwoo fluff #the boyz x male reader #sunwoo fluff #kim sunwoo imagines #sunwoo angst #sunwoo timestamps #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #the boyz x reader #the boyz x you #the boyz imagines #sunwoo the boyz #the boyz fanfic #sunwoo fanfic #kim sunwoo #the boyz kim sunwoo #tbz sunwoo #the boyz sunwoo #younghoon #hyunjae #lee jaehyun

[sygneth]

Just a thought but let's stop for a moment and think about how Jean we see in the game is the worst version of himself, not his standard behavior, yes?

Like. He's been dealing with Harry's shit for a while now trying to keep him in line, excusing him to the captain and other precinct members, he's been cleaning his mess and all of this struggling with his own issues, just to hear that Harry "doesn't want to get better, he wants to get worse" and what Jean does is cramping his style and he should finally fuck off. When he comes back to Martinaise thinking that Harry's just playing his usual shit and tries to justify himself in the most stupid way, still being pissed for the fallout they had earlier (I mean, it's quite normal to be pissed after an argument, yeah) and then he finds out that no, Harry has really lost all his memory and doesn't remember shit. What makes him even more pissed, because, you know. You argue with somebody, you maybe expect an apology but you know you won't get it if you won't be the first to reach out, so you decide to do it anyway, and then you find out the other person doesn't remember what they did. And you're still pissed about that argument, and now also pissed, as you don't see any way of making up if they don't fucking remember and you don't really feel like explaining it to them, because you're still pissed. Well, it's not like there is no way, but for now, you're to mad to see it. You just wanted it to be over and you're stuck again.

Now let's add to this equation that one of the most important to him people don't recognize him and he cannot do anything about it. His boyfriend best friend doesn't remember him, at all. Something he didn't really expect when they argued and he left, probably thinking stuff like "this is so over" and "I don't want to know him anymore". (Careful what you wish, for, if you're unlucky enough, you may receive it). Sounds frustrating to me. Sounds like a very bad combination when you're already depressed and feel like shit yourself and deep inside you need someone, because you're a human and have human needs, but you get left with nothing.

Let's spice it up even more with the fact that Jean actually leaving Harry in Martinaise before the events from the game may suggest that some part of him noticed how unhealthy and mutually toxic their relationship was and that was an attempt of getting out of it, and not falling again into the same, old dependent patterns. And yet. If he didn't leave, there is a huge chance Harry wouldn't have drunk himself to oblivion. And well, it probably only adds to Jean being pissed and frustrated. Because if he didn't leave, he would be mad at himself for babysitting Harry once again and fixing his mess. And now he is mad at himself because he let Harry erase his memory. And being a Jamrock boy with no awareness and probably little connection to his own emotions he gets it out on Harry.

Oh yes, and half of the time he's probably really fucking anxious that someone will find out what has happened and they will all get dicked for it, possibly could even lose jobs, and while he wants to think it's all Harry's fault, it's actually their shared responsibility and he knows about it, so it only adds up.

So yeah, that was the worst week probably not only in Harry's life (but he's fortunate enough not to remember the worst part of it), but also in Jean's, and what we see is probably him acting in his worst possible way, as the sky has quite literally fallen onto his head. And I'm not saying it as "he's a real victim of the story". Many people are affected by Harry's behavior and many people are responsible for what happened, including Jean (and not only events from right before the game, but all the little mistakes and misunderstandings and unhealthy mechanisms they both with Harry got themselves into). Also, he's acting like an ass when he is angry and I'm not trying to deny it. I'm just noticing here that the narrative doesn't give us a representative sample of Jean Vicquemare, only the most shitty, pissed, frustrated, and anxious one.

#hate me for saying it out loud idc #i think some people need to hear this though #jeanalysis #let's fucking goooo #jeanposting #jean vicquemare #jean heron vicquemare #disco talking #disco elysium #deep analysis

[ae-neon]

ANTI NESSIAN

The short of it:

ACOSF romance sounds like an incel revenge fantasy where the man gets to punish and fuck the woman who rejected him and mold her into a copy of the woman his role model/best friend/ alpha daddy is fucking.

The long of it:

I don't like when women's fear, anger and rejection is taken as a challenge.

Every now and then I wanna read ACOSF, tell myself I'll just ignore the Cassian stuff and eat around it, you know? Then I see canon Nessian interactions and I gag.

I don't know if it's because I don't read dark romance so I haven't been exposed and numbed to the truly heinous things authors are doing in their romances but I can't.

I'm just gonna sit back down in my anti Nessian seat cause it was never my favourite dynamic to begin with but it's to the point I can't even read fanfic bout them anymore (and I'm missing out on some good shit!)

I've read love interests who are mean to everyone BUT their intended partner.

I've read love interests who are mean to everyone INCLUDING their intended partner.

But a love interest who is ONLY mean to his intended partner?

I use the word mean very loosely here.

And maybe it wouldn't be so bad if him constantly pushing her to react or getting in her space didn't include or was immediately followed by super sexual thoughts or intention. That shit is predatory.

Earlier Nessian walked a fine line and I was even willing to move past that awful ACOWAR tent scene but ACOFAS? Cassian doesn't have to be perfect or nice on his own, as a character, but he might as well have thrown the idea of Nessian in the Sidra.

The combo of

wanting Nesta sexually but not liking her personally

having an inferiority complex about himself that he projects onto her interactions with him

History of a high born woman using him and finding a symbol of that same type of woman downtrodden and vulnerable

Having that woman entrusted to his "guidance and care" by almost everyone without question

Confirmation through a magic bond that she was literally made for him, belongs to him and would be best to bear his children (GAG)

Him using his position as her "carer and guardian and authority figure" to punish her on behalf of a man (and group) he desperately looks up to and wants to please

Him molding her to meet the requirements in order to be accepted by said man and group even when it goes directly against how she's expressed she wants to live.

Him molding her to mirror the wife of the man he looks up to

It feels like if this was set in the Victorian period he'd have had her lobotomized and locked away if she didn't correct her behaviour to him and his friends' standards.

Like can you imagine your (already deteriorated) well being signed off to a man who tells himself he loves you but doesn't act like it? wants to fuck you to prove he's good enough to everyone else? Is basically best friends with ACOTAR Elon Musk?

It sounds like an incel revenge fantasy.

And how is several people physically barring someone who is clearly using sex as a coping mechanism from having sex with anyone but this one guy not a weird coercive thing? Like you're taking advantage of her, I'm so disgusted.

All this without even mentioning the 500 year age gap and power imbalance and imprisonment and sense of extreme isolation and lack of mental health care etc etc

#anti nessian #until i die #anti acosf #anti sjm #anti cassian #somebody save her #nesta deserves better #anti ic #anti inner circle #nesta archeron #pro nesta #sjm critical

[totally-not-a-tickle-blog]

Hi can I infodump about Roy and my interpretation w/ him when it comes to coping mechanism regards sexual abuse to you?

Click here to allow me 👇 (long text)

.

To be honest I don't think he'll leave the more ""stereotypical"" type of victim bubble since 1- He's not a big focus in the show and 2- It's quite complicated and I don't know if Sr Pelo and the team would go that deep, but I like to overanalyze things. With that being said:

It feels off for me when he's shown as easily affected whenever his uncle is mentioned. I personally don't see it as HIM.

It's vague and anyone can see it whatever they like, it's 100% fine, but Roy is just... stubborn and ignorant. Those are two of his biggest traits and it's impossible for it not to affect how he deals with that trauma; he already has to deal with arrogant parents (mostly mother), not being himself even if he wants to (what pretty much hurts his natural ego), so being aware that even ANOTHER member of your family took advantage of you in even worst ways is basically a shot straight to the head. He's fighting something already and he'll definitely be in denial with a second one, not to mention that if people actually began to act all "soft" after finding that out IT'D MAKE THINGS WORSE.

It's literally the same as going to someone who wants to be seen as superior and mock him by treating them like a baby. It'll just make him try harder and harder to be taken seriously, including trying to ignore the trauma more and more.

And to be honest, even if he told his parents he'd stay in denial. Carmen and Richard are questionable parents but they're not monsters like some people think they are, they'd offer help and ask him what they want and need to know, but it changes nothing on how they treated him before nor his personality will suddenly change. I also have a lot to talk about his relationship with his parents, but that's for another one if I feel like it.

Now coming back to the beginning, when I mention that he doesn't get triggered when his uncle is the topic, I see it like that because his mind couldn't properly see the uncle as an enemy. He knows that what happened is wrong and that he's an asshole, but I'm talking about something more personal. A poor example for the sensation itself: You eat in a restaurant, and weeks later you find out that the waiter spit in your food. Will you come back? No. Are you also full MAD at him? Also no. You got angry in the first moments, sometimes still do, but you didn't even saw anything wrong with your food back then. You recognized it, but your brain didn't.

Now, when it's the sexual abuse itself, it affects him way more mostly because it makes him feel stupid, paranoid and dare I say disgusted maybe. I admit, that part is mostly me projecting, but it still makes sense in a way. It's more of a internal change instead of an external one (are those the right words?), since the consequences isn't as obvious and explicit if you did recognized the scene as a trauma at the time. You may not be against physical touch, but you may struggle interacting nicely afraid that you'll mess up again. I hope I didn't messed up on that part, or any at all--

ALRIGHT, briefly, Roy don't want sympathy, but he needs empathy, just like his friends are doing. They know what Roy goes through and still won't let him do whatever he wants, don't try babysitting him nor desperately tries to search for help right away like that. He's focused on his parents and can't handle even more trauma right now, and if he does start to try helping himself it'll be when he's older and don't have as much ego as he does now.

Ty for reading and I am SO SO sorry if I said anything shitty, sexual abuse is a topic that I always had some sort of interest on (studying and talking about), so I tend to think about it a lot specially when a hyperfixation is included.

EDIT: Just wanted to add that Roy's anger issues are also a nice response to everything I just said (nice in a "it connects" way, not good), someone as low-tempered as himself wouldn't be able to handle with the pressure of "You need to vent" without "exploding", thinking that his abuse consequently made him weaker and less worth of respect; "That shit just makes everything worse, so it's easier if I just ignore it!"

#I have so many things about him that I wanna talk about but idk if anyone would care #spooky month #spooky month roy #sm roy #S/A #sexualabuse #infodump

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Notes on Roman economics:

Rome, as a city, grew massively from 200 BCE to ~50 BCE, and most of this growth probably came from immigration (including slaves). The city's infrastructure struggled to keep up, and the inhabitants came to need more food than the rest of Italy could support.

Why so much growth? Part of it was people looking for work. The competitive building projects and public events of the elite created demand, more than anywhere else in Italy. Demand was further raised by the fact that Rome had outstripped its immediate natural resources, and thus needed more imports than most cities. Part of it was the slave trade and high manumission rate: captives brought back from wars, often freed later because keeping a slave was expensive. And part of it was imperialism: inhabitants of towns Rome had destroyed or impoverished would often move to Rome itself, looking for opportunities. Scholars, artisans, traders all gathered there, because Rome paid better and had more customers. In the 1st century, this may have also been increased by larger farms buying out smallholders. The money flowed one way, and people followed.

The number of poor and working-class inhabitants grew much faster than the aristocratic class, and overtook the traditional patron-client system, which had forged interclass alliances. But now, there were a lot more poor families who didn't have a patron to assist them in finding work, education, or food. And a lot of them, like Italians after the Social War, probably had well-founded resentment for how the city treated them.

This rapid growth may have made the collegia - those same groups mobilized by Clodius and Milo - both more powerful and more volatile. For immigrants who didn't already have a patron or nearby relatives, collegia provided community, professional connections, and a way to integrate into Rome. Not to mention you could take political action much more effectively as a group, and slaves and freedmen were welcome in most collegia, too. But from the aristocracy's perspective, these community networks were a threat. Even before Clodius organized mob violence, the collegia competed with the old patron-client system for gaining voters' support.

This aristocratic defensiveness may also explain some of the opposition to the grain dole: a state-sponsored public benefit competed with private nobles' ability to win support by handing out wealth. However, the aristocracy was too small as a class to effectively patronize Rome's poor on the same scale, and eventually ceded the issue for the sake of public order.

Extravagant public monuments, banquets, and gladiator shows served not only to get politicians prestige, but also recirculated money back into the middle and working classes. The Roman people were not simply fools who'd vote for whoever gave them a good show; politicians who were stingy could be seen as hoarding wealth and not serving the people. (This is also partly why identifying electoral bribery was so difficult - what counted as "bribery" vs. just "respecting the voters" was vague.)

(My comment - the patron-client system, monuments industry, and grain dole all seem to have acted as "vents." I think of a socioeconomic "vent" as a mechanism that grants limited benefit or opportunity to part of an underclass to induce them to cooperate with the system instead of reforming or overturning it. It prevents pressure from building up, promotes stability but not necessarily justice. There's probably a better word for this, maybe from Marxist theory? I don't know.)

Keep in mind that the issue wasn't immigration per se, or the "Roman mob" only caring about handouts or being easily fooled by demagogues. The Roman people - including non-citizens - had plenty of legitimate needs and grievances that were not being addressed by the upper class.

The rising population likely inspired the colonization projects of Gaius Gracchus and others, as a way to export people and try to relieve pressure on the capital.

A high population, underserved by infrastructure, alienated from the elites, and galvanized by grain shortages and rising inequality, probably contributed to the political violence of the late republic, and made the government as a whole far less stable.

Based on "The City of Rome" by John R. Patterson, in A Companion to the Roman Republic, eds. Nathan Rosenstein and Robert Morstein-Marx

#jlrrt reads #jlrrt essays #john r patterson #a companion to the roman republic #roman economics

[doberbutts]

I think it's also wild the way people assume the stealth experience is roses and butterflies. I went stealth+DL about being gay for about 2 years at work in order to be able to work in a trade where people generally skew extremely homophobic/transphobic/misogynistic. I had been on T long enough to pass reliably so I thought, ok, cool, this is where my life as a Normal Guy kicks in, this is where I get to flex the old Male Privilege and work in an industry culture that is toxic to everyone but cishet men.

and I mean yeah, materially? I did okay in my profession, I was good at what I did. People were pretty chill to me because my only major flaw to them was being the New Kid, a problem that eased with time. I did have a female coworker who I learned dealt with some hazing that I didn't. I will say, in that particular situation, I had some privilege over her since my sexist coworkers never said anything to me the way they said shit to her.

but here's the thing - I still heard all of it. The gross misogynistic things they were saying were not meant to be about me, but they sure as hell were anyway.

but oh, boo hoo, I had to hear remarks, but you know, I didn't face any actual barriers or opposition right? yeah, okay, I guess not, and I'm not saying it would have been better to be out in this scenario, or to be a woman, but there's a reason I ended up leaving that field. walking into work and feeling like - no, knowing - you have to lie to all your coworkers and your boss every single day or else they'll hate you and treat you like shit is not a great feeling. you never have a truly good day when that is always at the back of your mind no matter what. you never develop genuine friendships or connections at work if they're all built on lies.

I ended up getting so burned out. it was a good job, a union job, and I was making a good income. I had a path upwards to make *great* income if I had stuck with it long-term. but I ended up leaving it for a non-union job at a younger company, with a more "hip" HR culture that seemed like maybe I would be in a better place emotionally. I took a pay cut to do that too. but a lot of my new coworkers had the same attitudes as my old ones - the first week I was there, one of the other employees went around the shop asking each person, "if Kylie Jenner was trans, as in, used to be a man, would you still fuck her?" and most people, including the fucking foreman, said "fuck no." I ended up saying something like "it makes no difference to me, sure, fine, she's not my type anyway" (having to not reveal I was trans and also not reveal that I prefer men), and right in that moment I realized this wouldn't be a place I could be open either, and it would feel the same as the old place.

so the burnout for that job came much quicker. I quit after only a couple of months. I did actually end up telling the HR manager why, given that this company actually had one, but she was the only person at the job who ever knew I was trans (since she saw it on my background check anyway).

so yeah like, being stealth at work? it's not a privilege. it's a defense mechanism, and it feels like shit. you feel every transphobic and misogynistic barb even if it's not meant for you. one could argue that I would have never even been able to get those jobs if I were out, and yeah, maybe, that's possible, but I had female coworkers at both places. And yeah, one could also argue that, in terms of pay, I was likely doing better than my female coworkers. And you might be right about that if I hadn't gotten burnt out and quit before having a chance to build up any kind of seniority. But instead I took pay cut after pay cut until I finally decided to put my life in full reverse and go back to college - where I had struggled severely due to mental illness, and still do - since trades were clearly not the place for me.

I'm just really sick of people who have never actually lived what it's like to have that "male privilege" of being a stealth trans man deciding it's just the great, most ideal way you can exist as a trans person. I'm sure there are some stealth trans men who were able to adapt to that environment that I wasn't. but at what fucking cost?

I have a friend who worked a military job training the bomb dogs. He is 100% stealth to the point where even people who know, who have seen him naked and even had sex with him, often forget that he's transgender and why he has that barrier of access to some things if he wants to remain stealth.

The type of shit that people would just. Say to him. And he was always having to balance saying something or keeping quiet so as not to draw too much attention to his status as transgender. He was provided room and board by his job and thus lived with 5-6 similarly aged cis men in the same house and the amount of dodging them and biting his tongue he had to do to just to survive... And the job wouldn't be chill if they found out, the talk he'd heard made it very clear that he was at all times operating with a noose around his neck ready to tighten at the very first infraction.

Anyway that's what passing privilege is. Is your life somewhat better because you pass well enough that no one questions you? I mean I guess technically. But what happens in the mean time to your mental health? Having to hide large aspects of yourself and constantly worrying and looking over your shoulder to make sure no one is looking too hard at your hips or your hands or your chest. My friend is post-op. He's "done", so to speak, outside of taking testosterone. And yet this was still something he had to keep in mind.

He ended up leaving that job due to some Stupid Workplace Bullshit unrelated to his gender status but he told me that honestly it was also a huge sigh of relief. The money he got was great but it was corroding his soul to stay. He ended up taking a pay cut and working elsewhere that he is still stealth but no longer feels like he's got an axe to his neck in every interaction.

[flythesail]

If the show had Drewson endgame, I think I would still want to see them break up in season 1. Season 1 Nancy seems very not ready for a relationship to me, so I think it would have been neat if we got to see Nancy grow a little as a person, then realize how great Nick is and how close they’ve gotten, and then have them get back together in a later season—but not too late! Late season 2 or sometime in season 3 maybe. I think it’s such a waste that the show was started with Drewson and then they pretty much never acknowledge it again after s1! Anyway sorry for sharing my ramblings here

Yeah, me too! Though I personally wouldn't have them get back together until late s3 or s4 because I love drawing out a relationship haha. I think if you're going to start a show with a couple established, break them up, and have them reunite to be endgame, *the* key thing is developing their relationship along the way. I hate nothing more than throwing a couple back together at the end just because "they were always meant to be" when nothing was done to further develop their relationship past the reasons they broke up.

Nancy and Nick, however, had some good growth over the four seasons even no longer being romantic. If they had been endgame, they easily could have played that up more for a satisfying reunion. It's fun to do it that way too because when you have a couple together at the start, you miss out on the slowburn. Yet this way you kinda get the best of both in a reverse sort of way.

Now, drewson to me seems like a case of right person, wrong time. I think s4 made that clear to me because they work well on screen together and after some individual character development, they'd have been a lot more equipped to work through their issues. Earlier I'd probably have been like oh no they wouldn't have worked just because I was more invested in fanson and nace. But rewatching after the show is over I've really been loving looking at all the what-ifs. And I love Nick and Nancy too so... !

On the topic of closure, I just rewatched 1x13 and the one thing that stood out to me is that The Whisper Box is far from closure for Nancy re: Nick. Later when they're all back at the Claw, you can tell she's almost ready, even wanting, to open up to him. But by that point fanson is developing so she's missed her window.

I suppose there is some focus on it from s2 up until 3x01. In 2x01 everyone's reminiscing about the day they met. 2x04 has Nancy acknowledge she never knew he took stuff apart as a kid (leading to his mechanic job). Nick says she never asked. The idea being now they're building the foundation for a relationship they didn't before. So I'd agree Nancy wasn't ready for a relationship in early s1. The issues she had with Nick weren't even necessarily unique to a romantic relationship. Nancy was having the same issue letting the entire crew into her life.

Back to Nick, though. I think 2x18 could be considered closure. In the dreamscape:

"But you can't give in to it, cause you did feel okay again. Right?"

"You were a part of that. That's why it hurt so much when you chose George." "But I'm still here with you." "Thanks for still being my friend."

But! The problem is this is dreamscape!Nick. So he never gets to hear it.

Then, by 3x01 it's clear Nancy is at peace with it all. She tells Nick she likes the green when he's picking a paint color (George's color, specifically).

So I wouldn't say they don't acknowledge drewson after s1, but they mostly do in a roundabout way where it's either in Nancy's head or just symbolism to show she's happy for him and George now. I suppose if the dreamscape is *the* closure, it's on par with the rest of the show. It's not the only time something happens in a "supernatural" way. The downside is that it just doesn't include Nick and is more for Nancy.

My one thought is maybe they'd have given them a more direct conversation if we didn't drop down to 13 episodes. Or, if they knew s4 was the final season prior to the very end of making it. But then again, I can also see why they wouldn't have prioritized it since by s2 fanson was well established and nace was starting to be intentionally written.

Regardless of closure, I think they have a really beautiful relationship. Sure, they break up early on. But by s4 they've become to each other as friends what they needed to be back then for a lasting relationship.

(Please don't apologize for rambling because I just did the sameeee exact thing haha.)

#i just have a lot of thoughts on them at the moment #drewson #nancy drew cw #nancy drew #flytheask

[wilderebellion]

On the one hand, I know that folks don't necessarily NEED to have seen A Crown of Candy to enjoy The Ravening War. On the other, there are definitely some common questions that new viewers are going to ask, some of which ARE answered in the Adventuring Party episodes for ACoC.

Answers below the cut in a spoiler-friendly manner. No significant plot elements of ACoC are discussed, but there are some character names and candy type that are identified if you haven't seen that series.

Today's Topics include: Caloran Biology, Imbalance of PC Levels, Campaign Tone and Setting, and Is Calorum in a Fridge?

On Biology:

"[. . .] Is there a genetical logic as to what type of candy you are born as?” Part of a submission by Sir Pengy

Brennan: I'll let you guys answer what candy you wanted to be. In terms of genetical logic, just remember one of the people that you met in this episode is a talking slice of cake.

So biology, we take some liberties with biology here. I think that that gets played with pretty fast and loose. Sometimes that matters, and other times it doesn't. You know what I mean?

Like Caramelinda is Carmel, Amethar is Pop Rocks. And their two daughters are licorice. So it's not a hard and fast thing, otherwise after a couple of generations, there wouldn't be, you would be like, I'm a mix of vegetable and whatever else.

And by the way, people from different kingdoms, they're all the same species, so a vegetable person and someone from Ceresia, who is a grain person can absolutely start a family and have children, that's no sweat.

On Imbalance in PC Levels:

Brennan:  Because I saw some tweets and stuff like that and people were going, what's the deal with the level imbalance? We have first level characters, one second level character and some third level characters. [. . .] What we wanted to communicate was a difference in levels based on experience. Amethar and Theo are veterans of the Ravening War.

[. . .] Basically I went to all the players before we started playing, and I was like, you guys can start between first and third level, whatever you think makes sense for your character.

On the Vibe and Tone of the Setting:

Brennan:  [ . . .] it is inherently unfair, which is a vibe of this season, it is communicating that this is not a balanced party. I didn't get these dungeon encounters from a module that are appropriately balanced for a group of X to X level adventurers. That is not the vibe this season. The vibe this season is not about fairness, it is not about things being easy.

[. . .] In a weird way we went the most technical munchkin land, candy land kind of setting. And I would describe this as a low fantasy setting.

All of the characters are mechanically just a human variant, with plus two stats, skill, feat. And that goes for all Calorans in Calorum are all the same species, even though there are slices of cake and apples and stuff like that, it's just one. It is that kind of Westeros vibe of we're all one species and magic is rare, and there is definitely this vibe of combat is scary, the world is not fair or easy. And that tone is something that you all should expect.

On the Fridge Idea:

"...Also, does this season just take place in a fridge?” Part of a submission by Ezra Davore

Brennan: Maybe you've caught onto my little bulb joke. [. . .] Calorum, there is like a refrigerator joke within the world of Calorum. That is like, the bulb is the sun.

One of the things about Calorum is there are no human beings that eat the people of Calorum. So when I was thinking if people know they’re food, but there is no human beings to eat them, how do they know they’re food?

One of the world building things that happened was them basically going like, their belief that they're food becomes a religious conviction. So what ends up happening is all of the faiths of Calorum, the main one being Bulbian Church, but then the older more pagan beliefs revolve around a religious conviction the people are food, and what that means in terms of their cosmology. We get more into that later in the season, but that's the basic idea there.

"Are the Dice Scripted?" Adventuring Party Ep 1

#dimension 20 #adventuring party #trw spoilers #acoc spoilers #a crown of candy #the ravening war #calorum lore

[hersweetrevenge]

Hi there! <3 I re-watched Halloween Ends yesterday because I was upset and I needed Corey to save me, lmfao, and I wanted to ask you something that I've been wondering about. So, I have no way of getting the novelisation of the movie anytime soon, and you're kinda my only frame of reference for it; so I hope you don't mind me asking you this. When Corey is on his revenge killing spree, he kills those bullies at the mechanic shop. And Ronald is there. And then Ronald comes out to help the kids because of Terry. And only because of that. So, that makes me wonder... Did Corey plan on killing Ronald after he was done with the kids? Is that something that was elaborated on in the novel? Because I keep wondering about that, since Corey pretty much killed everyone that ever wronged him during that night, and Ronald was right there; but Corey didn't kill him (or didn't get the chance to, at least). Terry shot him by accident. But Corey killed his mom, of course. So, it'd make sense if he had at least planned on going after Ronald as well; even though he never actively wronged Corey (only passively, if we look at the way he just sat and watched while Joan abused Corey right in front of him, for example). But more so for completion's sake, y'know? They were on generally good terms, after all. I mean, in your latest post about the novel, you quoted that Ronald is "the loveliest thing" in Corey's life, according to Rohan. So, that makes me wonder all the more. OH, and... I fought with myself to include this point, but anyway- Corey takes the mask off when Ronald comes to help the kids, so that Ronald can see his face and know it's him. And it clearly disarms Ronald immediately and is the reason why Terry accidentally shot him instead of Corey, because he shielded him instinctively. Thus, I keep wondering if Corey meant for that to happen or if he took the mask off in order to assure Ronald that he wasn't actually in danger... It's such a seemingly insignificant thing that I'm thinking about far too much, but it's been bothering me that I don't know, and I was curious if the novel said anything about that at all, or if they just brushed over it there, as well. If they did, I'll just make up my own mind, of course, hdsfdjkfsk Anyway, I'm very sorry for rambling on about this, gosh! I love your blog(s) and everything you have to say about Corey and Rohan, you're awesome!!! Thank you for your detailed posts all the time, they keep me going! Take care! <3

ahhh hi !! thank you so much for sending this ask !! i love talking about this sort of thing more than anything lol and i’m sorry this took a little longer than i expected to reply, i was double checking like every ronald scene in the novel and cross-referencing that with behind-the-scenes details from making of, and re-watching the movie (i didn’t have to do that last one but like you, i needed emotional support from corey too 💗)

WARNING for discussions about (canon-typical) violence, murder, child abuse, abusive households, mentions of suicide and self-harm, and spoilers for the novelisation.

TL;DR – the novelisation does not elaborate on corey's intentions in any huge amount of detail, but it does provide some insight into a few different possibilities for ronald and corey’s relationship and what that would mean for corey's intentions.

general relationship

the novelisation actually gives some really specific details about the cunningham-prevo backstory, but also leaves a lot of aspects vague too.

joan married ronald when corey was 15, and she made it clear to ronald that he would "remain firmly on the sidelines when it came to corey's upbringing" which ronald "gladly" agreed to. so from the very beginning, ronald accepts he isn't going to be an active parent to corey, which maybe means he didn't believe he would do a good job anyway, or maybe he agreed it wasn't his place to parent corey in the same way joan does.

also, corey was already a teenager, he didn't need parenting in the same way a younger child would, which is partly why i think joan waited until corey was older to get remarried, because although being a single parent is difficult, she wouldn't want someone else in the picture as a father-figure for corey.

i don't personally see corey and ronald having a super close relationship, but there are multiple instances that show they are at least comfortable and familiar with each other (in line with what rohan said).

corey had a job before working for ronald, so we know ronald didn't have to give him a job. i hc that corey really wanted to do something stimulating instead of call centre work, and ronald agreed despite joan's grievances over it.

ronald doesn't seem too angry at him for being late, even though it is a regular occurrence (third time in a month).would he be so lenient on anyone who wasn't his stepson?

the gifting of the motorbike is a huge moment of course. that's a big gesture which, in the novelisation, also comes with some stilted bonding when ronald reminiscences that he used to "get laid [...], if you can believe it".

they have their united front moment over dinner when joan is trying to work a reaction out of them and neither gives her what she wants.

a smaller but still significant gesture is that corey uses dumbbells and a pull-up bar in his room to workout, which ronald bought him for christmas. very much feels like an attempt to help corey rebuild his self-confidence.

honestly though, rohan's comment about ronald being the "loveliest" thing in corey's life is probably right, especially as corey's life has been incredibly insular. as the town pariah with an abusive mom, his stepdad being cool about him being late for work is probably one of the best parts of his day.

but then on the other hand, there are moments which do not characterise their relationship very well, including multiple instances of ronald "ignoring" joan's abusive behaviour and not intervening.

to reiterate a previous point: ronald very willingly obliges joan's wishes of not "interfering" with corey's upbringing. her unfounded criticism and distrust of doctors, the school system and anyone other than her taking care of corey should have been a huge red flag (if, of course, any of that behaviour could have been inferred prior to their marriage).

ronald's passivity at being side-lined by his wife, allowing her to continue an unhealthy and unbounded relationship with corey.

when joan is berating corey for "sneaking around" and seeing allyson (the slap/kiss scene), she questions ronald as to whether he knew about the motorcycle, to which ronald stays completely out of it and doesn't answer her, despite her being furious with corey.

however it is a really difficult family dynamic to navigate, with so much nuance. i'm reluctant to say if ronald is a "good" or "bad" stepdad, or whether their father-son relationship is "good" or "bad", simply because their circumstances are so trying and complex. yes, joan has abused corey for a long time, but that abuse also extends to ronald in many ways too, resulting in him allowing (or enabling) joan's abusive behaviour in a flawed attempt to maintain the (toxic) status quo of the household.

did corey intend to kill ronald?

like i mentioned, there isn't any elaboration about corey's intentions in the novel, either through narration or extra dialogue. the scene happens almost exactly as it does in the film, with a few alterations and added background details. it's the surrounding details and plot differences that change my opinion.

i think movie!corey would have killed ronald if he had to. he knew ronald would be at home or at the yard, both of which were places he intended to go (to kill momma and the bullies). i'm not sure he had the same desire to kill ronald as he does the others, especially if he sees ronald in a good light, but to tie up loose ends he might do what is "necessary". i do find it very interesting that he lets ronald see his face though, and i can't decide if that is as a reassurance (he wouldn't kill ronald and ronald should know that) or because it just didn't matter (he's going to kill ronald so even if he sees corey's face, he won't be a liability to worry about).

however, i don't think novel!corey intended to kill ronald. in the novel, despite all of the extensive set-up of joan being abusive and corey's repressed desires to hurt her (and arguably ronald), there's no suggestion that corey planned to go back home as part of his spree and kill joan. if he wasn't going to kill joan after everything she did, i really don't think he'd have plans to kill ronald.

that's not to say there aren't implication in the novel that corey would hurt ronald too. there's a scene after the slap/kiss where corey can hear joan and ronald arguing about him, and once they've gone to bed corey gets a knife and stands outside their room, but ultimately doesn't go in. it isn't specified whether he wants to hurts just joan, or ronald as well.

michael's mask

ahh so when i was re-reading the scrapyard massacre in the novel to try and answer whether corey letting ronald see that it is him was a way of corey saying "you don't have to be scared of me" or even "you should be scared of me", i've come to a different conclusion about the mask.

“Who did this to you?” [Ronald] asked. “Him,” Margo said, pointing across the street. Ronald turned to find Corey twenty feet away on the other side of the fence, pulling Michael’s mask over his head. "Corey?" he muttered in disbelief.

the way the novel reads, i think that when corey puts the mask on in front of ronald, it's the first time he puts the mask on at all. if that is the case, it adds a whole other level to the transition between corey's kills as himself (or as the scarecrow) and his kills "as michael".

earlier, billy's sees "corey's shape wearing his prevo jumpsuit". it's fair enough that billy would assume it's corey without seeing his face, because they know that corey is there, but there's no mention of the mask either.

then, the way it describes ronald seeing corey put on the mask doesn't really indicate that corey was making sure ronald saw it was him. he's already "pulling on the mask" by the time ronald looks over at him; he wasn't waiting for ronald to look he was already doing it.

alternatively, the movie shows corey very deliberately stood there, waiting for ronald to see him and recognise him before he puts the mask on. i'm leaning towards it not being a gesture of reassurance but more of a last show of humanity to someone corey cares about -- "it's me, and i appreciate that you always treated me well, but this is the monster they've made me into".

in both versions, ronald jumps up to stop terry shooting corey. whether he was intending to shield corey or was just getting up to try and talk terry down, i think it says a lot about ronald as a character. he has been very passive this whole time, especially in scenes that take place at home, but in this moment he takes an authorative position to try and diffuse the situation. there's a scared kid with a gun, and his own stepson who he's starting to think might have done something awful, but this doesn't have to continue -- they can talk about it and calm down and whatever it is that has happened can be worked out.

#corey cunningham #halloween ends #ahhh thank you so much for this ask !! 🥰🥰 i've been turning it over and over in my brain for a few weeks now 😈😈 #i'll take any excuse to go over the details again and connect established things in new ways #and thank you for including your point about the mask !! #the dilemma about whether he took the mask off and put it back on has not left my brain since i re-read the novel #which is really exciting because i didnt think i'd get anything knew to chew on this late in the game #i also noticed another pattern which didn't fit here but i wanna post about soon #i hope i covered everything you were curious about. my replies get so rambling -- #-- i just throw in section headers to make it seem like i know what i'm talking about lolol #(and also thank you so much for being so lovely !! i love talking about corey and as always this is just my interpretation -- #-- i'd love to hear your thoughts and honestly community discussion is what fuels so much of my posting because like this is our thing !! )

[coffeelovesdramasalatte]

LITA Ep 3 Rewatch Thoughts

Hi friends! Here we are at ep 3, and these posts are getting longer by the episode so grab a lil snack and some water if you want <3 I had to make a part 2 because the number of images got to be too many (linked here and below)

The opening continues to slap (plus I think I've listened to it enough times I think I can sing along with the chorus despite not knowing more than 8 Thai words)

Recap spanks hehe

Opening the episode up strong with this beauty (am I talking about the bike or Phayu in the folded coverall? clearly it's both)

SCHEMING CUTIE ALERT!!! That's the Sky-is-my-new-favorite-person smile <3

I'm dyingggg - Phayu says "I'm still waiting Rain" but bro, it's only been like 10 hours since the declaration of love-war, please calm down

Oops I realized I haven't been mentioning the episode titles - this one is so cute! 'I like Rain, and I'm not talking about the weather" but tbf this should have been episode 1's title

Live footage of me crying over my schedule as a grad student:

Dang, Sky has got a good poker face

Also Rain and I are equally dumb (I'm including myself here bc if I didn't already know Prapai and Sky were going to have a storyline I probably wouldn't have assumed he liked guys right off the bat) - Sky didn't even flinch when Rain writes down his mission to court Phayu (a guy) and immediately writes down the first tactic. WHICH incidentally is "show up in front of him every day". It's pretty full-circle that Prapai uses this same tactic to woo Sky later on, isn't it? (I also didn't notice that until right now so wow these rewatch posts are helping my analysis skills lmao)

Look at my determined son!! He's gonna get his mans!! (Sky's looking a little skeptical tho)

Ah Sig my beloved other son who has a single braincell bouncing around in his head like a DVD player screensaver

The Rain-at-the-garage montage contains so many cute shots but this would get too long if I put every single one in, so let's focus on the first meeting with the brothers-in-law (P'Saifah and Rain). How much must Phayu have described Rain for P'Saifah to instantly know who he is on sight? Also P'Saifah probably reported back to Phayu immediately and I'm kinda sad we don't get to see that convo.

I didn't catch this until now but they also foreshadowed Rain missing a deadline in the next scene. Sky tells Rain to finish his work but as soon as Phayu texts him, Rain runs out of the room without having done anything.

Listen, I love P'Aon and his matchmaking skills ok??

Look at Rain, he's trying so hard to be polite with the P'Phayu and the khrap - what a good boy! It's taking everything in him tho lmaooo

The conversation that comes right after this between P'Saifah and Rain is pretty interesting. I love how the narrative keeps trying to tell us that Phayu is some sort of dangerous fellow when all he's done is be a model student and mechanic and teach college freshmen good manners. Could he maybe learn a little something about physical boundaries? Perhaps, but maybe it's just how kind-looking Boss is, but I never got any sense of danger from Phayu, and esp not towards Rain. Rain's reaction to hearing presumably about Phayu's past relationships is quite on-point, and really cements the stubborn and determined attitude he takes towards getting Phayu to like him. It's how we as the audience know he's gonna be successful.

Next up, Phayu arrives in all his fashionably-late glory. This part has me smirking every time because he walks in all suave and stuff but approximately 7 seconds into Rain's pouting he immediately drops all pretenses and becomes so squishy and soft

I LOVE this exchange between them - again, we are getting a full picture of their early relationship dynamics. Phayu has expectations that Rain's gonna be different, and Rain's telling him he's gonna meet those expectations, and Phayu's satisfied "ah just as I thought" face makes an appearance.

I absolutely adore this expression on Rain/Noeul - it's so subtle but powerful

Yay dinner date!! Phayu is taking so many mental notes right here (also pls note this is the same face Rain is making right above)

Phayu is way too good at pressing Rain's buttons omg - he really got Rain to do this with like a single sentence of teasing (tbf Rain is pretty impulsive tho so I'm not surprised)

The poor serviceperson was like pls let me go

Phayu goes through this episode looking wayyy too satisfied imo

But Rain actually does have nice manners - he gave Phayu the utensils and bowl first and does say thank you

This smile should be illegal actually bc it is stealing my heart and soul

And we get another instance of Phayu being very not immune to Rain's pout (this time he doesn't even get to pout for 3 whole seconds before concerned Phayu is feeding him and patting his mouth with a napkin)

We get some more foreshadowing that Rain is going to miss a deadline

ok THIS. These small gestures that Phayu does for Rain have me swooning just as much as their intimate scenes. Something about that sentence is grammatically incorrect but you get my point, right? They could have easily not included them (and idk if these were even scripted) but they make the relationship that much sweeter and believable.

Slightly off-screen headpat alert!!

AND WE GET IT IN POV SHOT TOO

Live footage of us whenever PhayuRain do anything:

Get you someone who looks at you the way Sig looks at his writing utensil (Have I mentioned I adore him yet?)

Also wait he's not wrong!!!

We get Rain's voice jumping like 10 octaves this time lmao (the increase is proportional to how much he loves Phayu obvs)

Look at our smart boy!! He's won design awards, y'know

Phayu you are not allowed to bully P'Aon like this - he's literally on your side??

Rain: I don't want to see Phayu

Also Rain: ignores Ple, the teachers, his friends, his homework to run to the garage to give Phayu snacks

Part 2 here (y'all we're literally only halfway through the episode omg)

#love in the air #lita #lita the series #phayurain #bossnoeul #boss chaikamon #noeul lee #noeul nuttarat #prapaisky #lita rewatch thoughts