#then that must mean it's never going to happen

[cripplecharacters]

Does Your Scarred Character Have to Hate Themself?

[large text: Does Your Scarred Character Have to Hate Themself?]

(TLDR: no. literally no.)

A frequent topic that shows up around facial differences is the self-hatred, self-disgust, self-insert-negative-emotion that we must surely experience. I want to ask* writers without FDs - why? Why do you feel about us in such a way that that's the most common way of depicting us?

*- rhetorical question. I promise I know the answers, but I'm not sure if writers do.

It's frankly worrying to me. Is it really that common to assume that disabled people have this internal, never-ending hatred for themselves? The overwhelming majority of us don't. We hate inaccessibility, when people stare, or some symptoms when they get in the way, or how expensive being disabled is, but I find the concept of us being so completely disturbed by our own disabilities extremely strange. It’s “tragedy porn” intersecting “most basic ableism”.

“But trauma!”

[large text: “But trauma!”]

Trauma of what! People with facial differences don't have some sort of default trauma that we come with like it’s a factory setting. We are a group of people with tens of thousands of stories and experiences!

“Trauma of experiencing ableism/disfiguremisia” - that's better, at least this means something. If you're writing a story about this, please get a sensitivity reader with a facial difference. You can assume how we feel all you want, but in my experience these assumptions are often bizarre and unrealistic. Or just end up writing the same “disability so sad” sob story that everyone has seen a billion times. If you want to write about disfiguremisia, you need to understand the nuance and have more than just the basic level knowledge (which 99% of people don’t have either). If you can’t do that, don’t write about it. Simple as that.

“Trauma of the accident” - thankfully, the accident is an event and a facial difference is a disability. If you want to connect these two like they're one and the same, you're almost surely going to demonize disability. People with traumatic spinal cord injuries, acquired amputees, people with TBI, people with acquired facial differences - we participate in our communities, we have hobbies, we date, we play with our dogs. Disability isn't a death sentence. Media who make it feel like it is certainly don't help people who do suddenly become disabled, don't you think?

Here's a post by @blindbeta about blind characters becoming blind through trauma that’s better made than anything I could hope to write here. I heavily recommend giving it a read.

And, I can't stress this enough - most of us didn't have “the accident”, most of us are born like this! "Traumatic scars" isn't the only facial difference that exists, far from it, it's only one of thousands. It's 99% of our representation and "representation". If you want to make a character with FD - please consider that we aren't a monolith. Just like not all physical disabilities are "wheelchair user with paralysis", not all facial differences are "traumatic scar with somehow no nerve damage".

The overrepresentation of it is incredibly telling, and sometimes - or very frequently - feels like the writer doesn’t actually even want to deal with us. They want to use our disability as a way to cheap drama, moral metaphors, tragic backstories. Not to represent us as living people who are much more similar to you than you apparently think.

Now, I do have enough awareness to know that that's a big part of the appeal. “Horrific Thing #2456 happens” and boom, instant drama! Of course, it's a reasonable response that they would hide their disability for years, avoid talking about it in any way, and magically change their personality to be mean and reclusive, or at least be constantly soooo sad about how much it sucks to be disabled, right?

Do I really need to say that having your character becoming disabled be the worst thing ever is ableism 101? We have been talking about this for so long at this point. Writing about the process of adapting to a specific disability is better left to people who have actual experience in it.

To give an example that will hopefully resonate more with Tumblr users, I will use the fact that I'm also gay. It's not perfect by any means but probably much more familiar territory.

Imagine, let's say, a character. He's gay. The story he's in is supposedly progressive, certainly not trying to be homophobic. The character has experienced an incident, maybe an act of aggression or a hate crime, that happened because he’s gay, which was traumatic. Happens IRL, sure. So of course the character starts hating being gay. He talks about how gross and disgusting it is, he never lets anyone know that he could be “one of them”, certainly not take a stance against homophobia. You can't mention him without mentioning the accident, they're seemingly fused together. No gay love, joy, even basic happiness, he would actually choose to be straight in a heartbeat if given the option to and complains that he can't. This is shown as a neutral, obvious thing that a gay man would do, no one comments on it. He stays like this the whole time, unless there’s a plot twist in the last 10 pages where the world is now magically perfect ("we fixed discrimination, yay!"). This is the only LGBT character in the story.

Keep in mind that there are people similar to this in real life, living with extreme internalized homophobia.

Is this, in your opinion, realistic and thoughtful representation? How does it feel when written by a cishet writer, versus a gay writer who is recalling his experiences? Do you think that it's reasonable for the majority of media representation to be like this, or very close to it? How would it affect younger gay people who might already be uncomfortable with being queer? Are gay men the target audience, or are they not even considered as a group of people who read books? Is this helping or damaging the general public's idea of how it is to be gay? Why or why not?

The Masterpiece

[large text: The Masterpiece]

From 13 to 19 of May, we are celebrating Face Equality week (what a coincidence!). It’s important to me in general - and I wish it was more important to abled people, but I digress - especially its theme for this year.

“My Face is a Masterpiece”

Great statement, it represents the community well, I do enjoy how bold it is. Very cool stuff, I love the work our advocates are doing!

But why do I bring this up?

Well, to very non-subtly show that we aren’t a self-hating group of people. We are a community, a community saying “our faces are beautiful, look!”, we are saying “treat us equally, and do it now!”. Our activism isn’t about self-disgust. It’s about fighting your-disgust. 

Why can’t writers keep up? Why are you still stuck decades behind?

Is this the only reason I bring it up?

The Call to Celebration

[large text: The Call to Celebration]

FEI, the org behind organizing it, asks a very simple question (emphasis mine):

“Why do we so often see stories about facial difference as a ‘tragedy’, when they should be about triumph?” “Calling all artists, allies, creatives, galleries.  You can rewrite the story to bring about #FaceEquality and celebrate the unique artistry found in every face. Your participation this #FaceEqualityWeek will help to tell the real story, that there is a masterpiece in every face.”

Here. We are calling for you to stop. Directly from the biggest international advocacy alliance group that's out there. If you create, this is for you.

The last argument to not have your character with a facial difference hate themselves? Because we don’t want this. We are tired and frustrated. For me personally, I’m also offended by this kind of assumption. We aren’t tragedies or cheap entertainment for abled people to pity or be horrified by. We are people, and if you can’t internalize that, you have no reason to write about us.

For once, celebrate us. Happy Face Equality Week!

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #face difference #ableism #disfiguremisia #face equality week #my face is a masterpiece #writing guide #writing help #writeblr #writing resources #writing advice #writing tips #writing characters #how to write #writing disabled characters #writing disability

[clusterbuck]

being unable to keep their eyes off of them please??

Eddie wants to get the hell out of here.

He feels kind of bad about it, because Bobby and Athena throw a great barbecue, and any other day of the week he’d love to grab a beer and settle in for as long as they’ll have him. Any other day of the year, really—

Just not the same day Buck kissed him.

He’d always imagined that if he ever scraped enough resolve together to try something with Buck, it would happen in the heat of the moment. After a close call on a rescue, maybe, or at a bar after a shift sometime, when he has just enough alcohol in him to push past the nagging doubts in his mind.

He’d always imagined that if anything ever happened, it would be because he took that first step. He could, when he was feeling hopeful, imagine Buck would be into it, but it had never even crossed his mind that Buck might want him enough to be the one to cross the invisible line between friends and something more. 

Only—

Two hours ago, he stood in the firehouse parking lot and watched Buck pace and forth in the artificially bright glow of a streetlamp for all of thirty seconds before drawing to a stop right in front of him, toe to toe across the faded outline of a parking space. 

“I’m going to do something,” Buck said, the warmth of his exhale ghosting across Eddie’s skin. “And you can tell me if I’m wrong. But—” he hooked one finger in the belt loop of Eddie’s jeans, tugging slightly, and the movement danced like lightning down Eddie’s spine. 

“—I don’t think I’m wrong.” 

And he tugged on the belt loop again, pulling Eddie closer into his space, and pressed his mouth to Eddie’s.

It seemed to last a lifetime, and it was over far too soon. Buck pulled back, careful, drawing a ragged breath, and Eddie leaned into chase him and found Buck grinning against his lips.

“Not wrong, then?” Buck murmured, and it took Eddie a moment to remember what Buck had said just before.

“Definitely not wrong,” he breathed. The words were half-lost in Buck’s mouth but he must have understood them anyway, because he laughed, bright and clear, before pushing Eddie up against the car behind him to kiss him again.

It was only when Buck’s phone rang, vibrating in his pocket so that Eddie felt it against his own thigh, that they remembered the barbecue. And that they’d promised to bring ice.

So now Eddie’s here, and for the first time he can remember he desperately wants to leave. 

He and Buck hadn’t really talked about it, so he’s trying to act normal. Which is to say he’s trying to act like he doesn’t want to walk across Bobby and Athena’s backyard and grab Buck by the collar to drag him in for another kiss. Or to demand what the fuck it means. 

He would describe himself as moderately successful. 

But in Eddie’s defence, if the rest of them knew the situation he doesn’t think they could blame him for the way his eyes keep getting drawn to Buck no matter where he is, like the universe is shining a spotlight on him. It’s not his fault Buck’s laugh lights up the room and he can’t help but look.

It’s not his fault that Buck catches him looking, sometimes, and smiles a smile that says he’s thinking about what happened in the parking lot. 

A smile that says he’s thinking about doing it again.

And it—well, maybe it is his fault when he grins back, his face trying to settle on something somewhere between wanting and bashful, but there are extenuating circumstances. He is, after all, only one man. 

Overall, Eddie’s pretty sure nobody could blame him for the fact that he wants to get the hell out of here.

Just then, Hen sidles up to where he’s leaning against the kitchen island and settles in next to him, mirroring his position and crossing her arms. 

“You should take your man home,” she says. 

Eddie flushes, and she laughs.

“You’re not being particularly subtle,” she says. “Either of you. I don’t know what happened exactly—” she raises a hand when Eddie tries to open his mouth “—and I don’t need to know. But you should take him home before it happens again on Bobby and Athena’s patio.” 

Eddie’s face feels so warm he’s surprised he can’t see cartoon heat lines wafting off his cheeks. 

Hen laughs again, gentler this time. “No one’s judging you, Eddie,” she says, and nudges him with her elbow. “I remember what it was like in the beginning. So go, take him home. I know you want to.” 

“I—yeah,” Eddie says, and lets himself grin. “I really do.” 

He doesn’t need to look for Buck, because he already knows where he is. He makes his way across the room, through their gathered friends and family, and over to where Buck is talking to Chimney. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as he does it, but Hen said it was obvious anyway, so he takes a deep breath and stands behind Buck, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder. 

“Hi,” Buck says, breathy with surprise but his cheeks pink with pleasure.

“Hen said I should take my man home,” Eddie says, and makes a concerted effort not to look at Chimney. He focuses instead on Buck’s cheek against his, and the way it crinkles when he smiles.

“Did she?” Buck says. “I guess we should listen to the captain, then.” 

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Eddie murmurs. They slip through the room, and Eddie tries to avoid Hen’s knowing look as they duck out of the front door without bothering with goodbyes.

As soon as the door closes, Eddie grabs Buck by the hips and pushes him against it, crowding into his space. “This is all I’ve been thinking about all night.”

“It’s only been two hours,” Buck says.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot longer than two hours,” Eddie says, and watches Buck’s eyes go dark. Then he grins. “Besides, do you want to nitpick, or do you want to kiss me?” 

“I can multitask,” Buck says, and Eddie laughs and kisses him for it, and for a moment the world narrows to just the two of them, wrapped up in each other against Bobby’s front door.

“Actually,” Buck murmurs, a moment or three later, when Eddie’s forehead rests against Buck’s and both their breaths come a little heavy. “I wanna change my answer.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “To what?” 

“I want you to take me home.”

send me a blossoming romance prompt 🌸

#911fic #buddie fic #ask emma #emma writes

[logansargeantsbabymom]

GIRL YOUR NEW LEWIS STORY????? HELLO??? WHY ITS SO GOOD???PLS CONTINUE????

ask and you shall receive. ENJOYYYYYYY🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🎀🎀🎀🎀

ladies and gentlemen I present to you,

Pillowtalk

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

part 1 I

Warnings: Smut, Oral, Overstimulation, Light Slapping, Squirting,

Once both Lewis and I found out that I was capable of squirting he’s been doing anything he can to get me to do it again.

He’s fucked me in so many positions trying to get me to squirt again. Missionary, Doggy, Cowgirl, Reserve Cowgirl, The Pretzel, I mean we’ve done it all and each orgasm wasn’t the one Lewis was hoping for.

“Lew, Puh-Please, I can’t take this anymore. I’m so sore” I whimpered against his lips, my thighs shaking with such force I looked like I was trying to win a twerk off.

“We’re not done until I pull another squirting orgasm from you darling” the look in Lewis’ eyes told me that he in fact was not lying and that he would actually stay here all night until he was able to pull another out of me.

We’d been in the Hot Seat position for the last almost 10 minutes and Lewis was hoping that this new position would be a game changer in terms of making me squirt again. The one hand that Lewis had resting flat against my stomach traveled down to my clit, rubbing harsh and fast circles around the already swollen and already overstimulated bud.

I honestly lost count of how many orgasms I’ve had today from the last 2 positions alone, imagine how many more Lewis is gonna pull out of me as he continues to to find what made me explode.

“You gonna tell me how I got you to squirt or are you really gonna make me fuck you every single way until I get that reaction again?”

I dont know how I did it, really, it just kinda happened. It couldn’t have been the overstimulation, I’ve been overstimulated I don’t know how many times in the last 45 minutes. Was it the handcuffs? Maybe, that had been the first time I’ve been handcuffed. Or was it the fact that I was helpless while Lewis provided himself his own pleasure?

“Mmm d’know”

“Or was it when I had you cuffed up and helpless?” a moan escapes past my lips “Do you want to try that again? Hmm, wanna get locked up again?” a breathless ‘yes’ escapes past my lips.

With that, Lewis recuffs my wrists to the handcuffs that he left hanging from the bed posts. A look of adoration and lust filled Lewis’ eyes as he stared at me. I was helpless, naked and aching for him. I watched as Lewis’ eyes raked my whole body before ultimately landing on my core and he watched as my pussy leaked for him in anticipation.

“I can see your pussy dripping for me. This must be what made you tick, you like being helpless” My pussy clenched around nothing. Something about his words did something to me. “I’m gonna eat you out again, okay princess” Lewis stared in my eyes, not moving a muscle until he got a response and my subtle nod was enough clarification for him.

Without warning Lewis licked a stripe up my slit, circling my clit before sliding down and into my whole. Lewis repeats this motion a few times before he places a soft kiss on my bud and stops. My hands instinctively go to push his head back down given that I was close to my 12th orgasm tonight, god knows how many more I can take before I actually die from pleasure.

“Don’t want me to stop, do you?” A muffled ‘no’ escapes my lips, the muffled noises I made quickly turned into a mess of moans as I feel 2 fingers insert me.

Lewis’ fingers are long and girthy enough to hurt for a second as they were thrusted into me. Lewis sets a decent pace as he leans up to kiss my lips

“Please, never stop. feels s’good” the second those words left my mouth Lewis did in fact stop. A whimper left my lips at the sudden loss of contact but Lewis quickly caught me up to speed on what was going on in his head.

“S’okay darling, I’m just grabbing some more stuff for us to have fun with.” I watched intently as he walked right back to the bed side table, opening the drawer pulling out a blindfold, vibrator and a cock ring. Walking back over to the bed Lewis quickly pulled the blindfold over my eyes, placing the cock ring on himself after setting it to a medium fast pace and placing the bigger vibrator on the highest setting, slowly placing light touches of my body with it as it send small electrical bolts all throughout my body.

Lewis first started off by placing the big vibrator against the skin under my collarbone and he watched as my body tensed at the feeling. He let it rest there for a second before slowly bringing it down to the valley between my breasts, slowly gliding it over one of my nipples while his mouth attached to the other, tongue circling around the bud of my nipple.

Having one of my senses taken from me meant that my others heightened. Lewis' touch sent me into a frenzy before losing my vision. Now? My god, I was gonna explode at any second due to the vibrating against my breasts. A pathetic string of moans and whimpers leave my lips as Lewis keeps sucking on my nipples, the hand that was previously circling the drags the vibrator down to my aching clit. The vibrations bringing me close to the orgasm Lewis left me hanging with and the way my body jolted, he knew I was close which prompted him to attack my pussy with his mouth.

Everything was too much for poor old oversensitive me. Too much pleasure, too much pain, my nerves were going into overdrive “Lewis, please. I’m gonna c-cum, fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkkk” my body shook with my 13th orgasm. This time, it was the squirting orgasm Lewis was begging for. When I started squirting, something snapped inside Lewis and he opened his mouth that was already by my pussy. He collected my pussy juices before spitting out some and swallowing the rest.

“Fuck, Darling. You taste s’good. I love every bit of you, mmmm.” Lewis murmured as he continues to work me through this high. His lips attack my pussy again as he murmurs more things about how good I taste and how he could never get enough of me. My body shook as my legs encase his head between them.

Lewis’ mouth attacking my pussy was brief because after a few laps of his tongue on my already sensitive clit, he grabs my thighs that were trapping him and forced them open before aggressively thrusting his rock hard and aching cock in me.

My hands instinctively reach for the blindfold so I can see him as he relentlessly fucks my pussy at such a pace I was sure the whole neighborhood knew we were fucking. The bed moves inch by inch with each thrust and squeak of the bed.

At this point I had tears streaming down my face, I was losing my voice by how much I was screaming out his name and moaning in pleasure, my body was littered with so many hickeys it looked like I was found in a huge pile of snow and had major frostbite.

I can tell Lewis is getting close to his orgasm by the way his hips faltered and the grip he had on my waist.

“Mmm let me see your pretty face as you cum again.” his one hand goes to reach for the keys to undo my cuffs “you like my cock buried deep inside you, don’t you?”

The second my hands were set free, I ripped off the blindfold and my body reached behind his to pull him closer to me.

“Harder Lew, fuckkk I’m gonna cum. fuck fuck please i’m cumming.” I squirted again. Harder this time. Lewis only lasted a few more thrusts before he spilled his cum inside of my cunt.

“Fuckkkk, mmm you feel s’good. such a slut for me, my beautiful baby.” Lewis fucked me through both of our highs before he plopped his body down on mine as we both tried to catch our breath, his cock still buried deep inside my pussy.

Lewis pulled out of me before he flipped me around so we were cuddling.

“goodnight beautiful, we have a LONG morning awaiting us”

taglist

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999

#charles leclerc #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis44hamilton #lando norris smut #smut #george russell #f1 imagine #f1 smau

[lambtotheslaughterr]

Tongue Tied

A Rafe Cameron Oneshot

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 6.4k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

OONA'S MASTERLIST

request for anon

requests are currently CLOSED

Summary: Reader has been under Rafe Cameron's wing ever since her older brother passed away, & it was Rafe's honor to take over the brotherly role towards her when his best friend died. But reader isn't a little girl anymore & Rafe's overprotectiveness may just be the very thing that drives her away from him...

unless Rafe has anything to say about it.

            The North Carolina summer sun beat down on your skin, but only comfortably so, as you lounged out on the bow of the yacht. It was a yacht party you were attending with some of your closest friends. The yacht was big enough to carry all 30 or so people on board as it remained anchored off the coast of Kildare. You had been out there for a couple hours now, but it was only six p.m. The party was guaranteed to go until at least until eight p.m. For now, you were happy to take a brief break from the drinking & dancing to relax separately from everyone else.

            You were beginning to doze off, the few White Claws you had were starting to make you drowsy. A quick little nap wouldn’t hurt, & would certainly guarantee your ability to continue partying with the rest of them. But as you felt yourself begin to really fall asleep, a shadow was cast over you, blocking out the heat of the sun. You blearily opened your eyes, expecting to see a sudden gathering of clouds above you, but it was none other than your closest friend.

            “Rafe.” You reprimanded but smiled softly up at him, “Can’t you see I’m napping?”

            “Uh, yeah.” He stared down at you incredulously, “When there’s a party happening? Are you crazy?”

            You sighed heavily, shaking your head, “If I don’t get a quick micro nap in I won’t be able to party much longer, period.”

            “C’mon, _____, that’s weak sauce.”

            You giggled, “Weak sauce, Rafe?”

            “You know what I mean.” He rolled his eyes, slapping you gently on the arm with the back of his hand, “Now, c’mon, let’s go, I need a partner for beer pong.”

            “Ugh, can’t you just have Ashley in my place, pleeeease?” You puckered your lower lip. But Rafe waved the suggestion away, “Yeah, no. Ashley can’t shoot for shit. I need my girl.”

            “Fine.” You gave up, “Five minutes then I’ll be there.”

            “Nope.” Rafe gathered your hands in his, “You’ll be there now.”

            “Rafe!” You half laughed half screamed as he lifted you from the lounger you were on & threw you over his shoulder.

            “I got a grand riding on this game, _____, I need your unbeatable hand to eye coordination.”

            “Why must you always bet when there’s a game involved?” You scolded, your ribs digging uncomfortably into his shoulder as he carried you shamelessly through a throng of people. You were grateful to be wearing the swimsuit you chose as it didn’t expose you too much as he paraded you around, your rear on fully display, save for the sarong wrap around your hips.

            “Because I like winning.” Rafe swung you forward, carefully putting you back on your feet. He patted your head, grinning, “And I’m a winner.”

            You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

            Rafe then led you to the upper deck of the yacht where there was just enough space for a beer pong table. There were a few faces you recognized, having grown up with some of them on the island, but most of the face were unfamiliar to you. The two guys you & Rafe were playing against were people you had never seen before.

            “This is your secret weapon?” One of the guys asked unimpressively as he eyed you beside Rafe.

            “Hey, man.” His partner elbowed him as he met your eyes, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

            “You’ll be eating your words by the end of the game.” Rafe responded to the one who had low-key insulted you, “Show em, babe.”

            You loathed when Rafe called you ‘babe’. It made people think you were together when it couldn’t be further from the truth. Rafe was like an older brother to you. He had been best friends with your older brother, Dom, in high school thus he was always around. And because you & your brother were so close you in turn became close to Rafe. But that friendly familial relationship the two of you shared strengthened in the last couple years. Ever since Dom passed away. You remembered Rafe promising you at Dom’s funeral that he knew he could never replace Dom in your heart, but he would always look out for you & be there for you the way Dom was. You adored Rafe, loved him unconditionally, & he never broke his promise. He was your home. Your family.

            So, when he called you ‘babe’ or ‘baby’, especially in front of others, it always made you feel uncomfortable. You knew he didn’t mean anything by it, just a term of endearment, but he had never called you that stuff when Dom was alive. You reasoned with yourself that it was likely because you were older now. There was a four year difference between you & Rafe, so now that you were 20, perhaps he felt it a natural shift to calling you pet names as such. You asked him once to not do that, & for a while he did, but it eventually came back & you just didn’t have the energy to have the same conversation. Just as long as Rafe knew that you thought it was weird & would never return the terms, you were mostly okay with it.

            “Babe?” The one who defended your honor questioned, “You two together?”

            “No.” You replied firmly, eyeing Rafe knowingly. He shrugged, completely unbothered.

            “Huh.” The guy nodded but let it go, “Alright. Let’s see who wins two grand.”

            There was too many people watching you now. The game had gotten intense, & fast. Your two opponents, who learned their names were Kabir & Danny—Danny being the one who defended you to his partner—were tit for tat with yours & Rafe’s skills. Rafe missed a shot, Kabir missed a shot. You made a shot, Danny followed suit. It was always at a tie, but now it was down to a tie with a single cup left on either end of the table. More so, it was your shot. You made this & you won. And Rafe got his two grand, the idiot.

            But with it being the winning shot, & with people having gathered around to watch in anticipation, you felt yourself begin to doubt your ability. Most the cups cleared on the opposite end was your doing, but now you felt the pressure. You didn’t make this shot & Rafe was out a thousand dollars. In the grand scheme of his wealth, 1000 dollars was nothing, but as Rafe had said, he was a winner. And a very sore loser.

            “You got this, babe. You always got it.” He stood behind you, his breath brushing against your cheek as he leaned down to speak to you.

            “I know.” You replied, holding the white plastic ball eye level as you aimed it for the single cup.

            Rafe backed up, pacing behind you. His antsy energy wasn’t going you any favors. You softly inhaled, willing your muscles to relax. It’s just like any other game, you reminded yourself. Aim, shoot, win.

            But just as you exhaled, flinching to make your shot, Danny raised his arms on the opposite end, “Pause.”

            “What?” You faltered, bringing your arm down.

            “New conditions.” He smiled, & damn did he have a good looking smile.

            “No, no way.” Rafe stepped forward, gesturing the cup, “We’re right here, you can’t change the conditions.”

            Danny ignored Rafe, looking solely at you, “I’ll give you the two grand but in return I get to take you on a date.”

            The sudden & unexpected proposal made your heart flutter. You felt yourself pressing your lips together awkwardly.

            You laughed half-heartedly, waiting for him to say ‘sike!’. A way to trick you out of making your shot. But Danny only nodded towards you, “Whaddya say?”

            “She says ‘no.” Rafe answered for you, his tone impatient, “Make the shot, _____. End it.”

            You frowned at his pushing. It was just a game. Danny said he’d give him two grand. Besides, Danny was cute. You weren’t the dating type, always too busy with college, but why wouldn’t now be a good time as any to start?

            “Well, hold on.” You looked at Rafe, to which he made a ‘what the fuck’ face at you. You turned back to Danny, “What if I don’t make the shot?”

            Danny cocked his head, “I’ll give your friend there his hundred grand back, but I still get to take you on a date.”

            You couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on your face. He was being direct, flirtatious, & it was working. You were intrigued.

            “Okay.” You rounded to approach Danny’s end of the table, “Shake on it?”

            Danny moved towards you, his hand outstretched. But before your hands could touch, sealing the deal, the resounding thwack of a ping pong ball hitting the lip of a cup met your ears. Your eyes flashed to the table just in time to see the ping pong ball bounce atop the table before falling off the edge. You spun around, your eyes meeting Rafe’s.

            “We lost. Too bad.” Rafe shrugged.

            Kabir howled with excitement, slapping Danny on the back with a winning spirit, “Two grand man!”

            But Danny didn’t share in his enthusiasm. Danny glared past you towards Rafe. A glare you greatly partook in.

            “What the hell, Rafe?” You questioned. Rafe approached you then, throwing his arm over your shoulder, “What? You can’t change the rules right before the game ends.”

            “You were about to get two grand!” You argued, “Now, you have none.”

            “I’ll live.” He returned, his voice hardening. Then he raised his eyes to Danny who stood behind you, “Good game.”

            With that, Rafe tugged you along behind him as he led you through the upper deck of the yacht. You tossed Danny an apologetic smile to which he returned.

            Once Rafe got you to the lower deck, you tore your arm away from him, glaring at him with the anger of a thousand suns, “What is your problem?”

            Rafe creased his brows, “What are you talking about?”

            “Don’t give me that. You know exactly what I’m talking about. I could have made that shot.”

            “Yeah, well, you were flirting with the enemy.” Rafe replied, looking away.

            “So? If you had let me take the deal you would still have your hundred grand at least.”

            “Not worth it.” He shrugged, eyeing you indifferently.

            You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “Not worth it?” You repeated, “You can’t do this stuff, Rafe.”

            “Again, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, “Look, I know you’re just looking out for me, but I’m a grown up now, okay? I can go on dates whenever & with whoever I feel like.”

            Rafe shook his head, still acting as if what you were saying was in another language. But you knew exactly why he threw the game & willingly gave up his money. It wasn’t the first time Rafe had intercepted a potential suitor in your life. You often felt Rafe took his role to look out for you too seriously. The last couple years it really hadn’t bothered you, especially when it came to guys showing interest in you. You weren’t one of those girls that felt it necessary to date just to date. You always prided yourself on your focus in your education, & you knew well enough that juggling a boyfriend or fling with the hours you spent studying wasn’t ideal. But that was before.

            Lately, you had admitted to yourself that something was missing from your life. If you weren’t in class, studying late in bed, or stressing about exams, you were hanging out with Rafe at one of the many parties he took you to, or with Ashley, who often brought along whatever guy she was dating that month. You thought it was time to begin putting yourself out there. And now that it was summer & the school year finished a couple weeks ago, it was the perfect time. But you wouldn’t be successful in your dating endeavors if Rafe kept going the way he was.

            “Rafe.” You raised your brows knowingly at him, “C’mon, I’m not a kid anymore.”

            “I know that.” He replied sternly, “You can date whoever you want.”

            Knowing it was only bullshit leaving his mouth, you decided to put it to the test, “Great. Then I’m going back up there & telling Danny that the date can still happen.”

            Rafe broke then, rolling his eyes, “That guy is a loser.”

            “Not from my point of view. After all, he did just win that game.” You knew you were treading dangerous waters at that point. Hitting Rafe right in his ego.

            “Oh, nice.” Rafe shook his head.

            “Look,” you started, stepping closer to him. Rafe straightened then, his eyes peering down at you as you nearly closed the gap between the two of you. You touched his wrists with your hands, “I appreciate you looking out for me like I’m your little sister. But I can look out for myself, okay? At least in this regard.”

            “_____...” Rafe sighed, his ocean colored eyes staring into your own, “Don’t. You don’t know anything about him.”

            You nodded in agreement, “That’s what dates are all about. To get to know someone.”

            Rafe moved out from in front of you, his wrists slipping away from your touch. You hung your head. Sometimes it really felt like you were taking care of Rafe, not the other way around.

            “Just don’t go back up there, okay?” Rafe stared at you, “Promise me?”

            You wanted to argue more, ask him why he was so against it, but you were too tired to do so. Exhausted, you ultimately nodded, “Fine. Whatever.”

            Rafe smiled, it was small, but it was the smile of a winner.

            “Alright. I’m gonna go get us some drinks & we’ll go down to the water, yeah?”

            You nodded, but you weren’t as happy as he was quickly becoming.

            “Try finding Ashley, I’m sure she’s sucking face with someone around here.”

            You brought your finger to your forehead before waving it away in acknowledgment.

            Rafe disappeared then. You stood there for a moment longer, stewing in your anger towards him. You knew your anger wouldn’t last long, it never did. Rafe was just taking his role too seriously. He’d get out of it one day.

            Footfalls sounded above you, & you turned around in time to see a familiar face appear at the bottom of the stairs.

            “Thought he’d never leave.” Danny teased, his charming smile appearing.

            “Oh.” You couldn’t suppress your own smile, “Hey. You heard all that?”

            Danny cleared his throat awkwardly, nodding, “Yeah, he, uh, he’s really protective over you.”

            “Yeah.” You rolled your eyes but nodded, “Just like a brother.”

            “But he’s not.” Danny confirmed without question. Again, you nodded.

            “Huh. Weird.” Danny commented, to which you frowned. But Danny didn’t your relationship with Rafe, the history of it.

            “Anyway,” Danny moved forward in conversation, “’bout that date…”

            You sighed, wanting to say yes right then & there. But you shrugged, “I’m sorry, I don’t think it’s gonna happen.”

            “Why?” Danny questioned but the smile never left his face, “Because… your not-brother or whatever-he-is says so?”

            “No.” You replied fast. Too fast. “Yes. No. Kind of, it’s hard to explain.”

            “Well, you could explain it tomorrow night. Sunset Grille?”

            Breath left your lungs at the proposal yet again, just as it had the first time he asked. Your cheeks hurt from how hard you were smiling. You enjoyed his determination. Made you feel good.

            “You technically wouldn’t be breaking your promise.” He added.

            You narrowed your eyes playfully, “How’s that?”

            “You only promised you wouldn’t come back upstairs, not that you wouldn’t go on the date.”

            A light laugh sounded from you as you shook your finger at him, “You’re sneaky.”

            “I just go after what I want.” He smirked, holding your eyes with his own.

            Worried that Rafe would return any moment, you finally made up your mind. You were 20 years old! And you’ve never been on a date. Rafe didn’t control your choices, you did. So, you nodded, pulling out your phone, “Let me give you my number.”

            You avoided Rafe like the plague for the next 24 hours. You had never been a good liar, finding the ability to be a good liar a pretty crappy trait to even have, but regardless, you couldn’t lie if your life depended on it. It was easier to do over text, which you took great advantage of when Rafe texted you the next evening, seeing if you wanted to come over & he’d grill up some steaks. You thanked him but told him you made plans to have a girls’ night with Ashley, & no, he wasn’t allowed to come this time.

            Girls’ nights with Ashley was common, & half the time Rafe would join in on them. They varied in what you two did. Some nights you’d stay in & watch reruns of reality television while doing facials, other nights you’d use your fakes to go to the bars on the beach—those were the nights that Rafe insisted on coming. Protective & whatnot. But for tonight, you told him it was going to be a night in. The new season of your current favorite show was airing. That was your lie. And as long as Rafe didn’t question it too hard, you’d be fine.

            Fortunately, Rafe sent you a thumbs up emoji & told you two to have fun. You were relieved. It meant you could get ready for your date in piece. After finishing with your hair & make-up, both of which were skills you knew little about, you fingered through your closet, ultimately deciding on an old dress you wore for your graduation party in high school. As you slipped into the dress, you clocked the time. It was nearly 7. Danny would be here any moment.

            Finishing the final touches of your look & adding a spritz of your favorite perfume, you were ready to go. Just as you were gathering your phone & purse, your phone pinged. It was Danny. He was in the parking lot.

            You frowned at that. Didn’t most guys meet their date at the door? But you brushed the thought away. This wasn’t the movies. He was already driving you to the date & paying for the meal, having told you to leave your wallet at home, he didn’t need to meet you at your door. Turning off the lights in your apartment, you grabbed your keys & left. The second you stepped out, the warm ocean breeze brushed over your skin. You inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of living on the coast.

            You descended the single flight of stairs to the ground floor & approached the parking lot. Parked in a handicap spot was a sleek dark gray Mercedes. For the second time in less than two minutes, you frowned. Danny was not disabled. Perhaps Rafe was right…you thought to yourself but immediately shook the thought away. Okay, so what? He was only there for less than five minutes. It’d be fine.

            Danny waved at you through the windshield. You gave a small one before opening the passenger side door.

            “Hey, gorgeous.” Danny greeted as you slid into the car. You placed your purse in your lap & smiled at him, “Hey…you.”

            Danny laughed at that, “Sorry I didn’t come up. Kadir called me, he’s at the casino.”

            “Oh.” You nodded in understanding, “I get it. Is he losing money?”

            “Oh yeah.” Danny chuckled. You laughed with him.

            “Hey.” He said again, & you looked at him, your smile falling.

            “What?”

            “You look beautiful.”

            “Oh.” You shrugged but you felt incredibly hot all of a sudden, “Thank you.”

            “’Course.”

            Danny pulled out of the parking spot then & before you knew it, you were well on your way to your very first date.

            The drive back to your apartment was dreadful, to say the least. As charming as Danny had been in the beginning, the novelty of it all quickly evaporated. At the restaurant, he ordered one too many beers, his voice growing louder as the date went on, & boy, did he know how to talk. As far as you knew, the only topics of conversation Danny could carry was about Danny, Danny, &, oh, Danny. Your first date ever would forever be remembered as a painfully dull one.

            Fortunately, the restaurant was only a few blocks from your apartment, so the drive would be quick & before you knew it you would be back in the safety of your apartment. Awaaaay from Danny. And you couldn’t wait.

            It was a sight for sore eyes when Danny pulled into the parking lot of you complex, pulling yet again into the same handicapped spot from earlier. You contemplated saying something but bit your tongue. Just get out of the car & get inside.

            “Well, thanks for the date.” You said politely but didn’t look him in the eye. If he asked if you had fun or wanted to go on a second one, your eyes would betray your true thoughts.

            “Let me walk you up.”

            “No.” You responded quickly. Again, too quickly. “I mean, it’s okay. It’s late. I’m tired. So, thank you.”

            “It’s okay, really.” Danny replied, switching the ignition off. The action made you roll your eyes away from him. “I didn’t pick you up from your door so the least I can do is drop you off.”

            God, you wanted to say no. You wanted to say please god noooo so badly. But you forced a grin, “Okay.”

            Danny quickly got out of his side of the car & rounded to your side to hold the door open as you got out. You avoided his eyes as he followed alongside you to the stairs leading up to the second floor.

            “I had a good time tonight.” He started. You felt one of his hands ghost over your lower back. You grumbled internally.

            “That’s good, Danny.” You replied.

            “Did you, too?” It was the question you dreaded most.

            You distracted yourself from the question as you searched out your keys in your purse. Fuck, you should have had them ready before you got out of the car.

            “Mhmm.” You hummed in response, flicking your eyes towards his quickly. “Well, thank you again, Danny. Drive home safely, okay?”

            “Well, hey, wait, hold on.” He chuckled lightly, but you weren’t smiling, let alone enjoying yourself, when you felt his hand on yours. “A kiss goodnight?”

            “Oh, uh, yeah, I don’t, uh, I don’t…do…that.” It was true.

            “Don’t kiss on the first date?” He questioned.

            What you really wanted to respond with was that you don’t date, specifically, but that would only likely keep him standing there longer with more questions.

            “Yup.” You chuckled awkwardly but there was no amusement behind it, “No kissing. So, thanks.”

            You yet again attempted to bring your hand with your keys in it to the door but before you could, you felt your body being spun around & pressed against the wall next to your door. Danny blocked you in with both his arms, that same charming smile that had wooed you in the beginning appearing, although now it only looked disarming.

            “There’s a first for everything.” He whispered, then began to lean in.

            “No, Danny.” You replied but he caught your face with his other hand, holding you still as his face grew closer.

            “Just hold still.” He reprimanded you.

            “No, I said no!” You raised your voice. You were bringing your hands up to his face, preparing to shove him off when suddenly the shadow Danny cast over your frame disappeared. A grunt sounded before you & you peeled your eyes open, not having realized you closed them. You didn’t know what you expected to see, but Rafe holding Danny against the opposite wall by his throat was not on your list.

            “Rafe?” You asked shockingly.

            “She fuckin’ said no, asshole.” Rafe gritted out, shoving Danny harder into the wall.

            Your eyes flicked to your apartment, noting that the door was open but the lights off inside. Was Rafe…? He had to be.

            Though you had just been low-key assaulted, you felt more anger boiling within you. Looking back at the two men, you saw how Danny’s face was beginning to turn purple with how harshly Rafe was choking him.

            “Rafe!” You yelled, approaching him & yanking on his arm, “That’s enough!”

            Rafe glared at you over his shoulder, “He put his fuckin’ hands on you. I should kill him.”

            Danny tried wrestling against Rafe but to no luck as he grew weaker by the second. You stepped back & then done something you had never done before. You struck Rafe. It wasn’t hard, & likely didn’t even hurt him, but enough to get his attention. After smacking him on the back of his head, Rafe snapped his head in your direction.

            “Let him go. Now!” You demanded. Rafe carried a snarl on his face, turning to glare at Danny once more.

            “If I ever see you around here again, anywhere near her, I’ll fucking kill you. That’s a promise.” Then Rafe let him go, but not before shoving him down the stairs. You instinctively reached out to catch him in case he stumbled down them but Rafe was quick to move between you & Danny. Besides, Danny had it handled. He stumbled, sure, but the handrailing helped him.

            “Fuck you, man.” Danny spit, his voice hoarse from Rafe’s assault, “You want her so fucking bad, she’s all yours.”

            Rafe’s hands were in fists at his sides as he watched Danny tripped over to his car.

            “And you’re not handicapped!” You hollered, “Asshole!”

            The last bit was just for good measure.

            Danny flipped you two the bird before climbing into his car. The engine roared to life & then he raced out of the parking lot, rubber marks left at the exit.

            You finally released a breath of air you hadn’t realized you had been holding. It felt good calling Danny that. You smirked pridefully to yourself, but it was short-lived when you felt another’s eyes on you.

            Glancing up, you saw Rafe glaring angrily down at you.

            “Don’t.” Your smile dropped, your anger returning at the reminder of Rafe having been in your apartment.

            You stomped away from Rafe, marching into your apartment. You didn’t bother slamming the door knowing Rafe was right behind you. So, he slammed it.

            “What the fuck were you doing with him?” Rafe asked, his voice shaking with rage as he pointed towards the outside.

            “No!” You raised your voice, slamming your purse down on your kitchen counter. You raised your finger at Rafe & stomped right back to him, “You don’t get to lecture! The only person who gets to be asking questions right now is me!”

            “Fuck that.” Rafe retorted shortly, “You lied to me.”

            “You broke into my fucking apartment!” You screeched, having reached your boiling point. You normally weren’t one to cuss, just never having gotten into the habit, but two entitled assholes in one night was enough to make a priest says the lord’s name in vein.

            “I didn’t break in!” Rafe yelled back, “I have a fucking key, _____.”

            “For emergencies only!” You shoved him away from you, marching back to your kitchen. You needed to calm down. A shot of literally anything would help. But Rafe was hot on your heels as he trailed after you into the kitchen.

            “Oh, & almost getting date raped isn’t an emergency, is that it?” Rafe questioned mockingly.

            You kept your back to him, your hands shaking as you pulled down the closest bottle of liquor you could find. It happened to be Jack Daniel’s. You didn’t even bother searching for a shot glass, you simply uncapped the top & took a swig straight from the teet.

            “Please.” You finally bit back, wiping the access whiskey from your lips, “I was fine.”

            “Bullshit!” Rafe forced you to look at him, his eyes glaring wide-eyed & angry into your won, “As far as you know he could be having you on your back on the living room floor right now.”

            You made a sound of disgust, “Don’t be fucking crude, Rafe.”

            “I save you from that pushy asshole & I’m crude?” Rafe laughed sheepishly but there was no amusement behind it, “God, you fucking women. Don’t know how to say thank you.”

            That’s it, you had it. You moved forward, shoving him against the fridge, snapping.

            “Fine! Thank you, Rafe! Thank you for breaking into my apartment & saving me from rape! Thank you for being a goddamn helicopter parent! THANK YOU for always, always, always looking out for me! It’s not like it’s suffocating or anything!”

            Rafe watched as you came undone, your face contorted to one of fury as you kept yelling at him.

            “You say you’re looking out for me because I’m like a little sister to you but that’s…bullshit.” You finally said, breathing heavily.

            His eyes danced around the features of your face as you finally felt yourself calming down. Your also felt like you were going to be sick. That swig of Jack threatening to come back up now that your adrenaline was dying down.

            “What does that mean?” Rafe finally asked, his voice low, soft. Eerily soft.

            You lowered your eyes, backing away to rest against the counter opposite him.

            “I’m not your little sister, Rafe.” You shook your head, responding calmly, “I know you think I’m your responsibility but I’m not. Maybe for a little while I was but not really. I will be forever appreciative & grateful for how much you love me & want to look out for me but you have to stop suffocating me.”

            Rafe said nothing as you continued. His eyes never leaving your face.

            “I’m a grown woman, Rafe. I can’t depend on you. You can’t depend on me! And don’t deny it, because you do. We’re too…co-dependent. It’s not healthy. Not normal. I love you, I do, you’re my home…but I don’t need you. Not anymore.”

            You sniffled, tears threatening to fall but you pushed them back.

            “I’m sorry…” You stepped forward, wanting to comfort him after saying what you just did but as you did, you finally clocked the expression on Rafe’s face. You stopped moving towards him. His eyes were glazed over, red & watering, as if he too was trying not to cry. But his teeth were pressed against his lower lip in anger. His mouth was shifting every which way as he absorbed everything you had just said.

            It was rare, seeing Rafe like this, you had only seen it one another time. At Dom’s funeral. His heart was breaking, he was angry, wanting to understand, to change things. It was that same expression on his face & look in his eyes.

            “Rafe…” You said his name softly. But at the sound of his name, Rafe’s eyes snapped to yours. And what you saw there made your heart stop.

            Before you could utter another word, Rafe snatched your throat in his hand, practically lifting your feet off the floor as he dragged you down the hallway to your bedroom.

            “Rafe—” Your voice strained against his hold on you, so you beat against his arm, but he looked like a madman on a mission.

            Inside your bedroom, Rafe threw you down on your bed. Air filled in your lungs, & you desperately breathed in all the oxygen you could. But your opportunity was short-lived as you watched in horror as Rafe tore off his shirt before snatching the ankle closest to him & dragging you towards the edge of the bed. Towards him.

            “What are you doing?” You gasped, fear wrapping around you like a snake around it’s prey.

            “You say you don’t need me.” Rafe mumbled, grabbing you by the underside of your chin, “I’m going to show just how badly you actually do.”

            A yelp escaped you when Rafe reached for the top of your dress & in one go, ripped it right down the middle. In less than a second, a dress from a very happy memory was destroyed just before you. The fabric hung loosely & pitifully from your exposed upper half, your breasts on full display. But the shock & suddenness of it all froze you. Rafe then shoved you backwards until your back slammed against your mattress.

            Words failed you as Rafe dropped his pants to the ground before using one hand to slither under the skirt of your dress, yanking on your underwear until they dangled from one ankle.

            This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. You fluttered your eyes closed. It was just a nightmare. A terrible, terrible nightmare. Rafe wouldn’t do this to you, couldn’t. He loved you. He would never hurt you. He promised.

            But then there was another body on top of you & your eyes flashed open. It was Rafe above you. It was Rafe muttering angrily to himself as he situated himself between your legs. It was Rafe who was date raping you.

            You felt a hardness against your center & it snapped you back into your body.

            “Rafe!” You pleaded, your body shaking uncontrollably beneath him, “Please, don’t.”

            Rafe paused to glance down at you. And you saw it there, in his eyes. His inner conflict. He didn’t want to do this, but he was. Rafe looked away then, unable to look you in the eyes as he adjusted his hips directly against yours. When you felt the head of his cock at your entrance, you cried out.

            “Please, Rafe, no.” You shook your head vigorously. You managed to get one of your hands out from under his weight & desperately grabbed for his face, forcing him to look at you. When his reddened & tearful eyes met your own, you shook your head more, “I haven’t... before.”

            It was no secret that you had never had sex before but it wasn’t something you talked openly about. But Rafe knew as such. He knew. So, he wouldn’t hurt you like that… he wouldn’t.

            But as Rafe only continued looking at you with a mix of anger & sadness, you watched helplessly as his eyes ultimately shifted to the latter.

            “I know.” Rafe replied, his voice emotionless, mirroring the lack of expression on his face. Tears cast over your eyes.

            “I’m sorry.” Rafe said with finality. Then he moved his hips forward.

            You whined into his shoulder, your arms hanging onto him for dear life as he forced himself inside of you. He was slow, but it didn’t matter. The pain was too great & you didn’t want this.

            Rafe shuddered above you once he was fully sheathed inside you.

            The two of you released a tense breath of air at the same time. You stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, your inside feeling cramped & stretched all at the same time. Rafe was hung his head next to yours as he caught his breath. You took that brief moment to lick your lips. You had been biting them so hard the skin was beginning to peel. Tears continued to slip down your cheeks, collecting in the curves of your ears.

            Then, Rafe began to move. The movement burn & stung. You stifled your pained moans, hardening yourself to what was happening. You couldn’t be here, not with him, not now, not with what he decided to follow through with. Because if you did…you’d hate him. And you loved Rafe.

            The body above you continued to move, assaulting your body to it’s pleasure. But as it did, your mind wandered.

            Your vision blurred & you were brought back just 24 hours prior.

            The ocean was so bright, so blue. Abundance of laughter could be heard in the distance. The sun was warming your skin & the ocean water kept you cool beneath the surface. You were floating on your back, a smile on your face. There was another person floating on their back beside you. Though your eyes were closed, you reached for their hand in the water. And when you found theirs you realized their hand was already searching for yours too. It was his hand. Your protectors. The one who promised to look out for you.

            Was this your fault? Did you let him coddle you for too long? Get too comfortable in it? Or did you give him a false sense of something else along the way? Did he love you differently? Was he punishing you because you weren’t ready for him? The questions were endless. And none of the potential answers brought you any peace. This was your nightmare, & it was very, very real.

            A sudden influx of movement broke your reverie, & you were transported back to your bedroom. Rafe had stilled above you. He was breathing heavily. You felt your muscles relax. It was finally over. But as you lied there beneath him, with him still inside you, you were startled when you heard soft sobbing.

            Turning your head slightly, you looked to see in your limited vision, at your awkward angle, as Rafe’s body shook above yours. But it wasn’t the aftereffects of coming, or at least you didn’t think so. But when a choked sob erupted from him, you realized he was crying.

            Rafe Cameron, your closest, oldest, safest friend was crying. After raping you, he was sobbing.

            “I’m sorry, _____.” Rafe wrapped his arms around your back as he cried into your neck.

            “But you were wrong. I don’t see you as my little sister.” What he was saying made your heart sink into your stomach.

            He leaned up then to look at you. His eyes were bloodshot, so far gone. You could only stare expressionlessly back.

            “I never did.” There it was. All along. The truth.

            “But you do need me. And I need you.” Rafe stated, “So this doesn’t happen again. So no one hurts you again.”

            It was laughable but you didn’t laugh. Didn’t even manage a light chuck.

            “So I don’t hurt you again.”

            Rafe cupped your face, angling you to look at him. His tears had stopped but his face was still strained from the flood of emotions, “Promise me, _____.”

            But you couldn’t. There was nothing you could say. Rafe sniffled, hugging you closer to his body.

            “I’ll never hurt you again. I promise.” Rafe whispered but it sounded far away.

            You only stared upwards, your tongue completely tied.

this is 2/10 requests from my 500 followers celebration request opening!

it became a lot heavier than i anticipated but i'm still happy w it. i hope anon is as well (anon, pls let me know since i'm unable to message you) lol.

as always, please share your thoughts w me via comments, reblogging w reviews, or dropping an ask. teehee.

thank you for reading!

oona<3

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @jsrafesgirl @bunnycvnts @ditzyzombiesblog

to be added to a taglist read rule 11 here. requests will be dismissed otherwise.

#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #non con fic #dark!outer banks #tongue tied

[yanderederee]

Windbreaker Official Q&A !

Part1 › Part2

(answer releases are slow, so I’ll post an update probably within a month or so?) -> Q&A hosted here

1. What would you spend 500 yen on?

Sakura: “I’d buy Saboten’s Curry Bread.”

Nirei: “I’d like to buy more notebooks!”

Sugishita: “Dunno.”

Kotoha: “A cup of delicious coffee.”

Suo: “I would donate it of course.”

Hiragi: “I just ran out of stomach medicine.”

2. If you were to travel in Japan, where would you like to go?

Sakura: “Well… a place worth taking a walk.”

Nirei: “We should all go to Okinawa, it looks like fun.”

Sugishita: “Dunno.”

Kotoha: “I want to see the snowy scenery of nature in Hokkaido.”

Suo: “I’d like to go to a tea plantation in Shizuoka and pick tea.”

Hiragi: “I want to try snowboarding, so probably a ski resort.”

3. What is your favorite seasoning?

Sakura: “Ketchup. Omurice with ketchup is the best.”

Nirei: “I like to eat rice cakes with sugary soy sauce!”

Sugishita: “Dunno.”

Kotoha: “Japanese-style soup stock. With that, I can make anything delicious.”

Suo: “I’d say soy sauce. It's sweet, isn't it?”

Hiragi: “It's delicious if you put miso on nigiri rice and bake it.”

4.) What do you think about before going to sleep?

Sakura: “Fighting.”

Nirei: “I think about everyone I was with that day.”

Sugishita: “Dunno.”

Kotoha: “Pothos's sales status.”

Suo: “The dragon sealed in the left eye is about to rampage, so I guess that's it, haha.”

Hiragi: “If I can’t sleep, I try not to think about it.”

5. What would you eat for your last meal?

Sakura: “What… Why is it the last one? I’ve never thought about it.”

Nirei: “High-class meat. I want to eat til I’m full!”

Sugishita: “Dunno.”

Kotoha: “I dont care what I eat, I just want to eat it with everyone at the facility and the teachers.”

Suo: “Hmm, I don’t need to eat anything.”

Hiragi: “If it’s my last meal, then that must mean I’m in a bad situation, right? That means my stomach hurts, and I wonder if I can eat it. If I can eat it, I might say Katsudon.”

6.) What happened recently that made you happy?

Sakura: “At the butcher's... I got a bonus when I bought croquettes…”

Nirei: “I was able to have small talk with Mr. Umemiya.”

Sugishita: “Dunno.”

Kotoha: “Customers really liked the new menu.”

Suo: * “I had two tea pillars stand recently.”

Hiragi: “I got a ticket for my favorite band.” (LETS GO TOGETHER PLEASE!!!)

* When pouring freshly brewed loose-leaf tea, you can sometimes expect to find a tea stem/pillar in your tea. It’s considered good luck if one of those pillars stand vertically.

7.) What would you do if a stranger of the opposite sex asked for your contact information?

Sakura: “What?! What are you going to do when you have it!?”

Nirei: “A-are you sure it’s mine you want!? Not Sakura, or Suo’s?!”

Sugishita: “eh… uh…. um…”

Kotoha: “Sorry~ I have a boyfriend.”

Suo: “I don’t have a phone, sorry.”

Hiragi: “O..Oh… is my number okay?” (YES PLEASE)

#I NEEDED TO RELEASE THIS IMMEDIATELY #IVE BEEN WAITING AND BITING MY FINGERS TO RELEASE THIS FOR SO LONG #BUT I CANT DO IT ANYMORE #so im making it a multiple part so that i can finally rest easy #in case no one can tell Hiragi is my favorite and quickly becoming an obsession #he’s so underrated #wind breaker #windbreaker #wind breaker (satoru nii) #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker manga #wind breaker official Q&A #wind breaker headcanons #technically canons??? #wind breaker Hiragi #Hiragi toma #toma hiragi #wind breaker Sakura #Sakura #sakura haruka #haruka sakura #wind breaker nirei #nirei akihiko #wind breaker suo #suo hayato #hayato suo #wind breaker sugishita #kyotaro sugishita #wind breaker kotoha #kotoha tachibana

[gabessquishytum]

Alpha Dream is an alien prince from a race with a/b/o dynamics, and is part of a delegation negotiating a treaty with Earth. It’s decided that the treaty would be sealed with a marriage with Dream, and he requests that his human betrothed be a male omega if possible, please.

Except humans are still normal humans with no such dynamics, and none of the human delegation understands what that means (either omegaverse never developed as a fanfic trope in this universe, or somehow absolutely none of the humans present have ever been to that part of the internet).

Both the aliens and the humans present are falling for the species-centric perspective of “they look enough like us that they surely must fuck like us”, so thanks to only responding with a couple of euphemistic explanations that don’t translate well to any of the human languages being used (unbeknownst to the aliens), the humans end up believing that a male omega is just “a male who bottoms”.

Weird to just blatantly ask for that, but it’s probably a cultural thing, and thankfully they do happen to have a betrothal candidate who fits that description.

Hob Gadling doesn’t get a ton of time to really get to know his alien fiancé, but what they do get is enough that both of them are pleased enough with the match, and they’re definitely both looking forward to consummating the marriage on their wedding night.

Cut to the wedding night in question, when the clothes finally come off.

If male omegas of Dream’s species are meant to have any kind of vagina, then the night probably stops there in favor of serious conversations and clearing up of misunderstandings. However, I think it’d be funnier to keep the misunderstandings going, so let’s suppose that the alien male omegas have all their business up the ass 😁

Hob and Dream get right down to business exploring each other’s bodies, and are having a grand time doing so. But when Dream gets to Hob’s hole, he doesn’t find any trace of slick there. Unexpected, but it’s not unheard of for some omegas to need a little extra stimulation to get wet, even if they appear to be enjoying themselves. With the help of a little lube for just such a situation, Dream is quite happy to spend the extra time and effort getting his new mate wet and loose.

(Hob wasn’t expecting his new husband to be so committed to fingering and eating him out, particularly since he had specifically asked for a husband who likes to be fucked, but Dream is so good at it you won’t hear him complaining (though he would like to get that alien dick inside him at least once tonight, if he can somehow manage to pull his alien husband’s face away from his ass at some point—Dream’s already made him come from this once, but doesn’t seem ready to move on from there))

Dream is starting to grow concerned. He wants so badly to please his new mate, but despite his clear enjoyment of Dream’s attentions Hob still doesn’t produce any slick. Even when he comes, the only real response comes from his cock and nothing from his ass. Dream dearly wants to properly mate his lovely and responsive alien omega, but if he tries fucking that pretty little hole with it as naturally dry as it is, it might be uncomfortable or even painful for Hob, which is simply unacceptable! Maybe human omegas require more orgasms first…?

At some point, one of them will finally call for a timeout to ask what the deal is, and they finally have a chance to talk and realize the misapprehensions they were both under about how biologically similar their species’ are. Thankfully this doesn’t really change how much they both want to make the marriage work for themselves as much as for the treaty, though Dream does have new worries about potentially hurting Hob by knotting an ass that wasn’t made for it. Hob though is stubborn, horny, besotted, and willing to try anything at least once, so they’ll probably work that out somehow without many issues.

-🪽anon

YESSS alien omegaverse!!! I honestly really like the idea of Hob being an avid omegaverse-reader before his marriage to Dream, so he actually starts to have suspicions about Dream having a secondary sex, but he doesn't want to say anything in case he's wrong... when Dream finally gets a chance to explain his biology, Hob is like "Hang on a second!" and digs out his favourite omegaverse romance novel to show him. Dream is relieved to discover that Hob DOES know what he's talking about... its even a little gratifying to know that his husband gets off on the whole concept of Dream’s basic biology.

So the only problem is that Hob isn't designed to take a knot - which means he'll have to practice. That means waiting and training his hole and his inside muscles to stretch and relax gradually. He doesn't really want to wait. But Dream is very insistent. He's going to keep on rimming Hob’s lovely little hole just as much as he was before, but he'll now also be inserting toys which can swell and train him to take a knot someday.

Hob shyly asks if Dream is disappointed that he isn't a proper omega like he wanted. But Dream firmly explains that he's fallen for Hob, not his genitals, and that there's no one else he'd rather be married to. Sex with Hob is already amazing (now Dream understands that he is pleasing his husband and getting him sufficiently aroused, phew) and he's sure it will only get better as their marriage goes onwards. Especially because Hob is proving himself a natural when it comes to training his hole. He's really, really looking forward to getting fucked, and it even shows in his body - he may not be an omega, but he's so fucking ready to be knotted by his alpha. One of these days Dream is gonna wake up to a very enthusiastic husband riding his knot, and he'll be very glad that he married a resilient, stubborn, gorgeous human.

#🪽 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw omegaverse #cw aliens

[soars22]

Missa stirred from his sleep slowly. He wasn’t sure what had woken him up, exactly, but the world felt… strange. The air hung flat and oddly empty in his ears. He didn’t like it.

He blinked and opened his eyes. He was in Rose’s sanctuary. He grinned softly; he hadn’t thought to ever see it again. Phil must have dragged him here in his sleep, as he had so many times before. Missa turned to the side to greet him and stopped short, his blood going cold.

Philza was dead.

Or, not quite dead, exactly, but very close to it. He was barely breathing and his skin, when Missa reaches out to feel his pulse, is cold. “No,” Missa breathes. “Chayanne?” He calls out desperately, turning to the bed where his son lays. There’s no movement, but that doesn’t mean anything. Chayanne’s a deep sleeper, he’s always been that way, it doesn’t mean-

It can’t mean-

“Chayanne,” he hisses, shaking the egg. “Chayanne, por favor, please-“

There’s no response. Frantic now, Missa scrambles over to his daughter. “Talullah, mi hija, wake up, get up! Talullah! Wake up!!”

“I don’t think they can,” a voice says quietly behind him. Missa whirls around to see the shimmering image of a woman with long dark hair watching him. “But-why?” The woman shrugs. “I don’t know. I can barely reach them, even here where I’m strongest.”

Missa blinks. “So… so they’re-dead?” The woman regards him sadly. “Yes. You need to let this happen, Missa. It’s the only way to reach them.”

“What do you mean? Reach them?” The woman cocks an eyebrow at him. “You are a reaper, aren’t you? Surely you understand how this works. I’m limited in my power here, but with you…”

Missa’s eyes widen. “Oh. Oh. Yes, yes, I understand.” He hesitates. “It’s… it’s been a while, since I’ve…” The woman smiles. “Yes. That’s why I’m here, to help you. I’m Rose.”

“Ooh…. So you’re Rose? Phil’s told me about you.” Rose laughs. “So I’ve heard. I’ll have to tease him later.” She holds out a transparent hand. “Shall we?”

Later-much later-Phil blinks open his eyes. He feels light, weightless, and the aches that have wracked his body have eased. He sits up and shakes a few stray leaves from his hair. “Chayanne?” He asks and coughs to clear his throat. “Lullah?”

“They’re here,” Missa’s voice sounds from behind him. “They’re just resting with Rose.” Phil turns to stare at Missa. “With Rose? She’s here?” Missa nods. “They’re just waiting on you.”

“Waiting on me for what?” Phil asks as he lets Missa pull him to his feet. “To move on,” Missa replies.

“To-oh,” Phil says quietly. “So… so we’re not waking up, then.” Missa shakes his head. “Not here; not exactly. Rose says she’s got bodies prepared for you somewhere else. I’m just here to lead your souls.”

Phil frowns. “Lead our souls… back to my old world, I imagine, or something like it. And you’ll go with us, right?” Missa stares at him. “I will?” Phil rolls his eyes. “Yes, dumbass. You’re part of our family now, you aren’t leaving. You don’t have a choice.”

“Oh. Uh-“

“Just shut up and let it happen, Missa,” Phil laughs. “You aren’t letting go of us that easy. I’m not about to let my Missa be homeless again.” Missa’s eyes are wide as he mouths the phrase ‘my Missa.’

Phil tugs on Missa’s hand and starts leading him down to the distant shapes of Rose, Lullah, and Chayanne. “Come on; let’s go home. We’ll have time to talk about it later.”

Home. It sounds nice; Missa’s never had one before, at least not one he remembers. He can’t wait to finally build one with the people he loves.

#qsmp #qsmp philza #qsmp missa #qsmp death family #qsmp pissa #Phil was talking about how he just fell asleep and never woke up #and this popped into my head and wouldn’t let me have peace #I didn’t write it but please imagine Missa losing his mind over Phil’s wings #because Rose for sure made sure Phil’s new body would have fixed wings #Missa is obsessed with them #anyway they live happily ever after because I said so The End

[fieldofdaisiies]

Whisper of the Forgotten | pt. 9

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 1,5k words | warnings: none | masterlist

The moment your last spoken words, the last whispered runes, leave your mouth and Nesta‘s knife, Ataraxia, slices through the outer shell of the dark box, a chill falls over the whole room, almost like frost is creeping into every corner and every nook, spreading rapidly. For a moment there is nothing but silence and it is deafening. 

But a noise you can’t quite place starts and it hurts your eardrums. The atmosphere inside the room shifts to almost unbearable, cutting your breath short.

Nesta next to you cries out, Ataraxia clatters to the floor when it slips out of her hand. Her face shifts into a grimace, her shoulders caving in.

You want to hold onto her hand and not let go to give her support, but the force the little box emits is too strong.

It starts to buzz, humming with a fierce melody of war and strength until—

The box opens like a volcano erupting, its power harsh and rough, eventually throwing you backwards. Your hand slips out of Nesta‘s hand and your support is gone. You want to cry out, shriek, but you lack the air to do so.

You prepare yourself to hit the hard ground, but that doesn’t happen. You don’t fall, you slam into a hard wall of solid muscles and instantly a protective arm wraps around you, catching you tightly, keeping you safe.

Power roars, growling and howling, fizzling, making the inside of the office vibrate and shake.

You are holding your breath, waiting for it to calm and naturally curl your fingers around Azriel’s lower arm, clinging to him.

“I’ve got you,” you hear Azriel say over the loud buzzing and hold onto his words. The force of the box is not only strong, but also painful — whatever you have opened there must have been a vital part in Koschei‘s possessions.

It takes a moment, a long moment you worry will never pass, for everything to calm again.

Dense silence stretches out and no one dares to speak. Did you really do it? Is it really open? Is the curse upon it truly broken? 

The runes you could depict and the spells that you could then figure out, lifted the curse, then it was only about opening the box and that had to happen by the hand if Nesta Archeron and her sword Ataraxia.

“We did it,” Nesta eventually breathes, voice laden with relief. Hums in agreement fill the room and warmth slowly starts to creep back in, the weight about the unknown danger of the box now lifted, gone.

“We destroyed it. We destroyed—”

“His soul.” Amren‘s revelation leaves everyone speechless. You need a moment to catch your breath, fingers still curled around Azriel’s lower arm, his chest still a comforting press against your back. 

“That means that now it is just him?”

“Yes.” Amren presses her lips in a thin line, her eyes trailing over body. “No it's just him. Almost like a—”

“Shell. The shell of his body, now that his soul is destroyed,” Feyre cuts in. She looks exhausted, her hair tangled from the earlier outburst of energy inside the room.

“Will that make it easier for us?”

You weigh your head from one side to the other, pondering. It is hard to tell, you think.

“Probably yes, he is most definitely easier to defeat now.” You clear your throat. “But first we need to get to him and that won’t be that easy. He most definitely has armies at the ready and fae and other beings to protect him.”

No answer comes from the others, they are waiting for you to continue, to explain further. Even Amren is waiting for you to do so.

“We need all of Prythian ready and united and maybe one or the other being from the Prison.” You wink at Rhysand, who keeps a stern face “You know about my good old friend Bryaxis? Or his whereabouts? I haven’t seen him in centuries, but making use of him might be a great choice, so maybe we could try to find him.”

“A brilliant idea…” Cassian mutters from beside you, his lips pressed in a thin line, frowning.

“You know him?” Your face lights up.

“And fears him,” Azriel cuts in, chuckling to which his Illyrian brother shows the spymaster a vulgar gesture. You want to laugh, but Azriel continues. “But we can try to find him, he will most definitely be useful.”

You nod. “We also need to prepare the mortals and make a mortal army. They need to be able to defend themselves as well.”

“Alright,” Rhysand says. “The letters to the other High Lords will go out later today and I will send Lucien, our emissary, to the Mortal Lands with the news.”

“Good, we need to be quick.” Your fingers curl around your amulet and you hold in tightly.

“It won’t take long now for Koschei to declare war. He knows we destroyed his soul, he is weakened but not yet weakened enough. His powers fade by the minute, he won’t wait too long now to attack,” you explain from your spot at the wall. “We can expect the war declaration every moment now.”

Rhysand’s gaze meets yours across the room. He folds his hands on the table, then nods slowly.

“We can count on you?” The question should hurt you, and it does a little. But you understand their concern. You have been friends with Stryga and the Bone Carver, Koschei is their brother, it would be obvious that you used to be acquainted with him as well.

But you weren’t. You didn’t know him back then, only from stories, but no good ones to say the least. Of course, you are siding with Prythian in this. With Prythian and the Mortals! You have always stood with the Mortals, served as their protector, nothing has changed about that.

“Of course,” you say and bow your head dramatically. “I am not the only one who has proven loyalty.” A smile spreads over your face and it is a tang mischievous.

Rhysand nods in answer.

“So what now?” Azriel then asks quickly. “How do we go forward? Do I need to inform my spies to move?”

Your lips quickly split into a grin. You push off the wall and stalk toward the table. “First we get the Valkyries ready; make sure they are acquainted with riding Pegasi. Then ready the Prythian armies, all of them and lastly.” You pause, draw in a deep inhale and close your eyes. Power sizzles at your fingertips and you bring your hands up, folding them over the base of your throat. “And lastly, I will summon my companions — the Wild Hunt shall once more be reunited!”

———————

“A moment?” He had asked and followed him onto one of the balconies, sitting down on one of the loungers with him, close but not too close. Your hand slid into his, quite naturally and not uncomfortably.

“And what about us?”

Your heart is pounding steadily, not rapidly, but nevertheless it feels heavy. It hurts so much that there once used to be a bond but you could never live and enjoy it with him.

You have only been freed a few weeks ago. It is too soon. You can’t forget so easily, even though forgiveness is an option now. You are ready to forgive. But you are not ready to be with him.

You are not ready to let him get so close to you again. His actions have hurt you so much, and you are not there yet. Where you allow him to be such a big part of your life again.

“Azriel, I told you I needed time.”

“I know you do,” he whispers and silver lines his eyes when he averts his gaze, now looking at the night sky. “I only want to know if I am allowed to hope.”

A breathy giggle slips through your lips. “Azriel,” you breathe. “Yes, you are allowed to hope. I am also holding onto hope, but for now…”

“Yes?”

“But hope isn’t the only thing I need right now.” You inhale deeply. “For now we need to focus on the future of Prythian. Then we can talk about us.”

“Us?”

You nod. “Azriel, I know what we are, and I know what connects us. The bond will forever be there is neither of us rejects it, but if I accept it now…I know I will feel trapped once more.”

Hurt flashes over his face. “And that is one thing I will never ever allow myself again — to let myself get trapped.”

Your hand sweeps over the scarred back of his hand and your chest lifts with a deep inhale. Your eyes meet his, gazes locking and you can see understanding in his hazel ones.

“I need to be free now, Azriel..” You remove your hand from his hold. “I need to be on my own. After the war I think I will go back home, back to the Middle. Rhysand told me it is destroyed, I want to rebuild it. Then I want to travel and live.”

He turns his gaze back to you.

“But right now we need to fight a war!”

general tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @azrielsmate2 @callmeblaire @lilah-asteria @berryzxx

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acotar x reader #acosf

[cameronspecial]

some angst inspired by july of noah cyrus?

can't really describe it

Slow Death

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mention of Abuse

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Masterlist

It’s hard to say when they fell in love with each other. It’s even harder to say when they fell out of love with each other. Neither Y/N nor Rafe could tell when they stopped being by each other’s side because they couldn’t fathom being apart, but because the change was a thing they were both afraid of. Y/N thinks it was a culmination that caused the shift in their relationship instead of one event that changed it all. One fight about who is going to do the dishes turned into a constant battle over the smallest and biggest things. 

———

Tears stream down her face as she replays his words in her mind. God, when did you become such a burden? The reminder of the burden she has become to the person she once loved causes a new wave of agony to come over her and as she feels herself hyperventilating, she begins to count to ten like her mother taught her. One, Two. Breath In. Three, Four. Breath Out. Five, Six. Breath In. Seven, Eight. Breath Out. Nine, Ten. Breath In. Her breath steadies and she peaks out to the balcony to see if Rafe is going to come in. Instead, she finds him relaxing on a deck chair with a beer resting in his hand. He isn’t facing her, yet his body language tells her he is in the same amount of pain as her. Exhaustion overwhelms her and she feels her eyes flutter. As sleep overcomes her, she is left wondering why they are both so okay with living a lifetime, slowly dying on the inside. 

———

She wakes up the next day and isn’t surprised to see her bedside empty. Her normal morning routine is followed to a T. The floorboards creak as she pads to the kitchen to make breakfast and annoyance floods her when she sees the kitchen island littered with beers. There has to be around twenty. Topper and Kelce must have come over once she fell asleep because Rafe could’ve never drunk all of that by himself. He sits at the counter, hunching over a bowl of cereal. She knows he has no plan to clean up his mess. “It isn’t that hard to put glasses in the recycling. It is literally at the end of the counter. You wouldn’t have to walk more than five feet to get to it,” she criticizes. Her mind busies as she begins to clean the mess. He grunts, “I don’t need you to mother me, Y/N.” The tone in his voice gives her the courage to stop pretending everything is fine. “What are we doing, Rafe?” 

“What?” The spoon he is holding drops and clangs against the ceramic bowl. She takes a deep breath, “Why are we still together if all we do is fight?” His hand runs through his hair and gives the ends a tug. “Because we love each other,” he argues.

She drops the beer glass she has in her hand onto the table. “Do we? Rafe, every single day, you remind me that I am not enough for you. That I’m not who you want so why am I still here?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Tell me to leave! Then, I’ll pack my bags and get on the road.”

“I can’t do that. So if you want to go, then you can go all on your own.” 

She processes his words, wondering if maybe they mean there is still hope for their love. Except, she can’t let that hope override what is happening right now. She musters up her courage, “I’ll go.” His mouth parts slightly before he bites the corner of his lips. A shine glosses over his eyes and she is sure her expression mirrors his. Her steps are less certain as she makes her way back upstairs. The hard floor digs into her knees while she kneels in front of the bed to pull out her luggage. She hesitates. Memories of all the time change has screwed up her life come to mind. When she changed university, she ended up hating it because her new school was always on strike. When she decided to move out of her cozy apartment for a new fancier one, the new one ended up being built with a slew of violations. And the most important one of all, when her mother left her father for someone new. Her new stepfather ended up being an abusive asshole. Change hasn’t been kind to Y/N in the past, so why should she trust it now? 

The luggage is left in its place under the bed and she raises, going back downstairs to finish cleaning. Rafe says nothing as she recycles the rest of the bottles and gets to work on making herself breakfast. Because they may be dying a slow death, but at least it will be a familiar one. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe imagine #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron outer banks

[obeymematches]

I saw one of your stories and I got immediately interested by one of them, then I had an idea more like a head Canon maybe-

So you and Solomon are making a potion for class one of the brothers came into the classroom and a big explosion happened one of you and the brothers didn't brace for impact and then suddenly your future child is there I just want to see everybody's reaction or maybe what will they do in that situation (sorry it's a bit weird but yeah that's all I came up with in my head) ^^"

henlo!!! So you sent in this ask almost 3 years ago (may 20th 2021) I'm so so so sorry i didn't reply sooner, you're probably over this by now 😅 but i felt inspired to write it today so here we go 🫶

🌸Meeting your future kid with him🌸

GN MC

Okay so this time Solomon has some homework to do... sending this kiddo back without messing with the future is gonna take time. Until then you must take care of them! You are the parent afterall!!

Lucifer: 4 months old

Not gonna lie it took him the longest to realize it's YOUR baby WITH him! In his defense, babies can look a bit weird. The baby definitely has your mouth, but his eyes and hairline. He didn't see many infant in his life so this is all new! You can literally see his heart melt when the little baby smiles at him! Shares his part with pride, changes diapers, carries the baby around....just take over when the baby is fussy.

MC I can't wait to meet the baby again... I miss them already, isn't that funny?

Mammon: 3yrs old

Your toddler immediately recognized you and Mammon. You and him looked at each other with an awkward stare, his face is as red as it can be- you are definitely not ready for kids!!! The fact that around 3 years old kids looove disobeying on purpose doesn't help. Mammon gets the hang of it though, he looves his little troublemaker! They could play all day long.

I wanna see ya grow up little man- I looove being your dad!

Levi: 8yrs old

Again, the kis recognizes you and him. Right now he keeps telling you he isn't ready for kids and might never be; same as you!! So how did this happen??? Do you must have one in the future??? Thankfully with an 8yrs old you can already have a conversation, play games with, etc so by the time it's over he grows very fond of them.

MC... I think I have changed my mind- having a kid is a lot like having a small best friend!

Satan: 16yrs

Ah. Your child is as upset as any 16 yr old would be in this case, leaving you and Satan no time to think about the fact you made this person. He does his absolute best to stay calm and see things from the kid's POV, but man is it difficult when your teen keeps lying about important stuff, escapes the house as soon as you lower your guard, fights with anyone over and over who doesn't do as they want despite being so so so sensitive... it is tiring.

I wish I could see what they were like as a little kid... why did I think teens were easy?!

Asmo: 13 yrs

Okay he is very quick at recognizing his own kid; he has YOUR and HIS face memorized. Starts sobbing when he realizes what this means; you are going to be parents!! The thought of loving someone sooo much just sends him over the edge. He buys everyone matching clothes, plans so many vacations you are rarely at home, surprisingly good at answering questions your little one has. (Very comforting, builds their confidence as much as he can!!)

MC, how do I look as a parent? You still love me?

Beel: 1 yr old

Okay, it was obvious the baby is a perfect mix of you two; his eyes are definitely yours though! Beel finds this job to be super important so he spends almost all day with the baby. They play peek-a-boo, he helps your kid to learn to walk and eat with hands, carries them on his shoulder when they get tired. Honestly he doesn't want to let them go back.

MC... I think we should have at least 3 kids!"

Belphie: 6yrs

Okay, he never would've thought he'd have a kid with you; first, you are dating someone else right now and second, he doesn't really like kids. So this one's gonna be complicated. His face turns red though as he has always liked you but you made it clear he is not really your type. Co-parenting brought you much closer; you could see how calm he can stay when he wants to, and how smart he actually is especially when the 6 years old doesn't stop with their questions. How it continues after the kid is back in the future is up to you babe!

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #obey me satan #obey me luci x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me! #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #obey me hcs #obey me brothers #obey me swd #omswd #swd obey me

[totheseok]

☆ boynextdoor reaction to you biting them

requested: no

genre: fluff ig?

warnings: none that i can think of

word count: 1.1k

a/n: more self indulgent things because I have a biting problem.

sungho:

gobsmacked

yk that really shocked face he makes where his mouth is open and his eyes are wide?

that's his face when he realises you bit him

it's a light bite but it's unexpected

you two are in the lower homes living room just chilling. sungho is playing fifa while you just mindlessly scroll on your phone. eventually you get tired of your phone and now you need your boyfriends attention. but sungho is locked in on the game and you know simply asking for his attention wouldn't work. so naturally you do what must be done. and you bite his arm. you bit him lightly but you've never bitten him before so man was s h o c k e d. he looks towards you eyes wide, mouth open and then looks at his arm, then back at you.

"hi"

"hi? did you just bite me?"

"mhm"

"why?"

you bit him again and cuddled up in his side 😌

riwoo:

goes silent

riwoo.exe has stopped responding

like remember the funnextdoor episode where he went quiet and woonhak was like "riwoo is trying to think of something funny to say"

kinda like that

riwoo gives me yapper vibes so...

you two are sitting at the table in the kitchen just enjoying some snacks while talking about your day. he's probably telling you about a new dance he's learning or something stupid that happened at dance practice. you're just listening and watching your absolute cutie patootie of a boyfriend yap away. as he's doing this you cant help but notice how cute his cheeks look. and how biteable they look.... and so to preserve your own sanity you do just that. you bite his cheek 😌. following your bite all you hear is, well, nothing. sanghyeok is just sitting staring at you with wide eyes, bite unfinished. man is shocked, flustered, flabbergasted and so much more

"riwoo?"

"..."

"baby?"

"..."

"sanghyeok?"

"..."

jaehyun:

menace pt1

bros probably going to start singing bite me ngl

but we know hes a dramatic pookie

so that too

you and jaehyun are in his room. hes studying some english. youre having the time of your life, laying with your head in his lap, watching him struggle to pronounce "yacht". you offered to help him but noooo, he can do it. refuses to let you help because he wants to prove he can do it himself and with any other word you wouldnt doubt him. he's quite good at english and hes improving rapidly but the word "yacht"... its a pain in the ass to learn at first even if english is your first language. i mean look at it it should be pronounced "ya ch t" or something. he had first said "ya ch t" and was convinced that's how it was pronounced until he looked at your face and realised he was wrong. but was going to ask for help? no? but manz could NOT figure out what else it could be.

after about 5 minutes of watching him struggle you got fed up and decided to MAKE him listen to you. so you leaned your head down. and but his thigh. surprised at first, bamboozled even. but once he realised what had happened he started giggling soon followed by you. after recovering from the laughing fit, he did not miss a single beat and started singing in that voice he uses to annoy sungho.

"its you and me in this world 내게로 다시 와 tie me"

"seriously? thats you first response?!?!"

"날 구원할 거라면 just come kiss me and bite me"

"sure but say 'yacht' first"

"HEY"

taesan:

bites back.

thats it

thats the headcanon

jk but fr

i cant find it now but theres a video of taesan biting jaehyun and bro just nommed in jaehyuns arm

which is why im 100% sure he would bite back

honestly wouldnt even be phased

its probably your love language as a couple

you and taesan were at the studio, taesan was working on some new songs while you sat nearby doing some assignments. eventually the words you were typing started floating around the screen and you didnt even know what you were typing so you decided it was a good time to take a break. but if youre taking a break then taesan should also be taking a break because 1. he was probably tired too and 2. how dare he work while youre taking a break instead of giving you attention. so you decided to give him a few minutes so that he wouldnt lose his train of though. plus he looks so cute when hes focused so...

HOWEVER a few minutes turned into 10 minutes. 10 minutes turned into 20. and eventually half an hour passed. you realised taesan wasnt about to take a break any time soon, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. you slowly crept up behind him and attacked. bro did not move. just looked at you smiled and pulled you into his lap. you may not have gotten a reaction but hey, now you get attention from your boyfriend. with no consequences... right? err❌ wrong.

"whats up?"

"you should take a break youve been working for so long. nonstop"

"okay"

"youre just going to listen? that easily?"

"hmm?" *bites you*

leehan:

menace pt2

takes it as an opportunity to flirt

teases you to no end

i keep thinking about that boynextdoor 2night video where while spinning the jaehyun told him he was doing it the wrong way

and he was like ill do it how i want

so like

think abt that

you and leehan were watching a kdrama while cuddling. initially both of you were very invested and you kept fangirling over the male lead (me every time i watch unlock my boss) and leehan would laugh and jokingly complain about it. after about two more episodes you noticed that leehan hadnt said anthing in a while so you looked towards him and saw that he had dozed off. but this was unacceptable how could he leave you to watch people try to kill each other on your own. no absolutely not. this was not allowed. how dare he. you first tried slightly shaking him awake, it woke him up but he just mumbled something unintelligible and closed his eyes again. time for plan b. biting him.

it worked. quite well. too well.

"why???"

"why what?"

"baby i know i taste good but if youre hungry the gummies might serve you better"

"you left me alone to watch mr.oh be mean to my husband 😔"

"hey its ok i didnt hear anything he said about me~"

"oh god you know what go back to sleep"

#boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #bnd #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor reactions #bnd x reader #park sungho #sungho #sungho x reader #riwoo #riwoo x reader #myunjae #myung jaehyun x reader #taesan #taesan x reader #leehan #leehan x reader #lee sanghyeok x reader #han dongmin x reader #kim donghyun x reader #lee sanghyeok #han dongmin #kim donghyun #bnd fluff #bnd fanfic #bnd fic #boynextdoor fanfic #boynextdoor fic #bnd reactions

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Loves Not A Drag

Based on the long text post with @decentsoupperson spicy ending will be in my AO3 later 💕

"I don't know Angel, this is a little over the top."

Angel rolled his eyes. "You make a hot fucking woman, own it!" He finished putting on the last of Adams drag makeup.

Adam rolled his eyes, that now had long sharp eyeliner and fluffy eyelashes, "Of course I'm fucking hot, I'm hot no matter what."

"I don't know what your problem is then, this isn't even the first time you've let me make you up like this."

Adam had been letting Angel dress him up as a drag queen to the nines. Now, he had on a long flowing brunette wig, a lilac purple dress with matching knee high heeled boots, jewelry, makeup done to perfection and perfume.

If he met himself as a woman he'd do him.

Now, Adam never went out looking like this, he stressed it was only to help out Angel. He didn't enjoy looking like a woman, not the dress, the bra or the panties.....

"Shit, I think I left the setting spray in your room."

Adam looked at Angel in the mirror. "Why the fuck is it in MY room?"

"Cause that's where we did this last remember? I must have just forgot it. Can you go get it?"

Adam's eyes went wide. Got out like this?! "Are you fucking high! I can't go out like this."

Angel rolled his eyes this time, putting everything else away. "It's just down the fucking hall. No one will see you big guy. Or should I say, big girl?" He smirked and it only widened when Adam glared at him.

"Don't fucking test me, bitch." Adam sighed, it wasn't that far he'd be in and out before anyone would see him.

Easy.

"Fine."

"Thank you, buddy." Angel gave an exaggerated thanks.

Adam grumbled as he made his way over to the door. He peaked his head out, no one around. Adam quietly walked down the hall, he was almost there!

"Well hello, there." Adam stopped dead in his tracks, dread filling him. No, no, no, anyone but him. Swallowing thickly, Adam plastered on a nervous smile and turned to face Lucifer. "My, you're a pretty little thing, have we met?"

Adam blinked, he didn't recognize him? He didn't recognize him! In the best woman voice he could muster, Adam answered. "No, I don't think so." He couldn't believe how real his voice sounded, not a high pitched and fake but somewhere in the middle sounding softer and a little feminine. "You are?"

"Lucifer Morningstar." Lucifer took a hokd of Adam's left hand and held it up.

"Like the King of Hell?"

Lucifer placed a gentle kiss on the back of his hand. "The very same. And you my dear, what is your name?"

"Ad-" Shit, he can't let Lucifer know it's him! Adam would never hear the fucking end of it. "Adaline."

"Adaline, what a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Say, you wouldn't happen to be single would you? Cause I'd like to take you out sometime." Lucifer grinned widely, oh he knew it was Adam, those golden eyes gave him away. But why not have some fun and get to go on a date with his favorite sinner.

"Really? Oh, I'm very flattered. Are you sure?"

"The most sure I've been in a long time. What do you say, Adaline?"

Adam bit his lip, he knew he shouldn't but what would it hurt? "Sure, when?"

"How about tonight at seven? I'll meet you in the lobby."

Adam's heart started racing. "Okay, it's a date."

"It sure is. I'll see you later" Lucifer let go of Adams hand and walked away, making sure to get an eye full of Adams ass in that dress. He'd have to thank Angel later.

Adam sighed in relief once Lucifer was gone. He ran to his room, grabbed the setting spray and rushed back to Angels room. "ANGEL HOLY FUCK!"

"SHIT!" Angel fumbled his brushes. "What the fuck!?"

"I have a fucking date with Lucifer." Words Adam never thought he'd say.

"What? How?"

"He caught me off guard in the fucking hallway. So, I pretended to be a woman and he asked me out."

Angel gasped excitedly he cupped Adams face. "You know what this means!? I have got to make you show stopping! Here, put on these." He handed Adam a matching set of black lace panties and a push up bra. "What will you wear?"

Adam didn't know! He hasn't been on a date in years, let alone one as a woman. "Fuck, um..... Oh!" When he came back as a sinner, he was able to control plants. Using his power, he formed a dress that was made out of red roses. "There." It was high in the front, longer in the back.

Angel whistled. "Smoking. Now, let me do your makeup to match."

Adam looked himself over once more before he was to head down and meet Lucifer for their date. Weird thing to say.

He was in his dress, with black and red pumps and a crown of roses in his hair. With flowers around him, he used them to get the pollen on him so he'd smell even more like a flower. "There, how's that?"

Angel gave him a chefs kiss. "Go get him, Adaline." He winked at him and Adam only shook his head.

Clearing his throat, Adam made his way down to the lobby where Lucifer was waiting for him.

Lucifer turned when Adam came down the stairs and he swore his throat went dry and that he was looking at a piece of heaven once again. "Wow, you look gorgeous."

Adaline smiled sweetly, "Why thank you. You look rather handsome yourself." And he did, even though he was wearing a suit it wasn't his normal one it was more gray. "Where are we going?"

"Ozzie's in the Lust ring." Lucifer opened a portal and offered his arm. "Shall we?"

Adaline took the arm. "We shall." They walked through the portal arm in arm. Adam had never been to another ring before, mainly because sinners aren't allowed in any others.

Lucifer had pulled a few strings and had gotten Ozzie's all just for them, this way he can have Adam or in this case, Adaline, all to himself and see if he can get him to slip up. They were seated at a table near the front. "So my dear, tell me about yourself. Do you like plants?"

"Oh yes, I love plants and nature. Especially flowers." Adam played with one of the roses on his dress. "I love animals too." Was it hot in here? It felt like Adam was sweating, good thing all his makeup was sweat proof.

"Lovely, what kind of music do you like? Pop, classical, rock?"

Adam paused as if to think his answer over but on the inside he was panicking. Did Lucifer know? He seemed to not know that it was actually Adam, he even went the extra mile and shaved! Everything! Yes, even there. "Who doesn't enjoy rock music? Sometimes a girl just has to let her hair down and have some fun."

Lucifer sipped his drink that the waiter brought by. "I couldn't agree more. You like ribs? We can share those if you'd like."

Oooooh ribs sounded so fucking good right now. "That sounds awesome. Um, Lucifer?" Adam looked around the restaurant and noticed that there were no other customers. "Is it a slow night or are we the only ones here?"

"I value privacy so I rented out the entire restaurant. And I would love nothing more than to be alone with a beautiful woman such as yourself.~" Lucifer flirted and yeah, maybe he was putting it on a little thick but he wanted to fluster Adam so that he'd slip up and reveal it's really him. So many complaints was the way to go.

Adam felt his face heat up and he smiled sweetly, making sure to even giggle a little. "Oh stop, you're too sweet." This girly voice was going to be the death of his throat. "Thank you." His voice cracked in the last word and he coughed a little.

"Do you need some water?"

"No no, I just sucked air down the wrong way. No biggie."

In the distance, Ozzie was watching their whole interaction. "He knows that's a drag queen right?" He asked one of the many waiters. The waiter merely shrugged and went over to take the couple's order. Ozzie waited until the waiter left to go in for the kill. "Lucifer! How is everything so far?"

Lucifer looked up at Ozzie and smiled politely. "Good!"

"Good, good. And this is your lovely date....?"

"Adaline." Adam supplied with a smile.

"Adaline, a lovely name. Do you mind if I speak with you over here for a moment, Lu? I just want to make sure that this, uh, detail you ordered is to your liking." Ozzie asked as kindly as he could, he didn't want to raise any red flags.

Lucifer gave Ozzie an odd look but playef along. He didn't order anything special for the date, renting out the place with a private dinner and show was the special thing. So what could he possibly want? "What is it Oz, I'm on a date here."

"Yeah about that. There's no delicate way to say this, so I'll just say it." Ozzie took a deep breath. "You realize that your date isn't a woman, but a man? Like a beautiful drag queen made of roses?".

Lucifer laughed. "Oh is that all?" He started to whisper. "Yes I know that Adaline is actually Adam, but he doesn't know that I know. So, please keep your lips zipped and don't ruin my fun."

Ozzie held up his hands in defense. "Hey, I just had to check. We had a similar situation here not long ago where the guy didn't know." That had been a very bad day, the staff were still cleaning bits of that poor soul out of the carpet. "I just didn't want you blind sighted."

"Thanks Oz, I appreciate that."

Ozzie gave him a knowing look and waggled his eyebrows. "So, you gonna shag him in that dress?"

Lucifer snorted with a grin. "Do I look like a fool? If things go my way of course I will." He could even picture how Adam would look spread out on his sheets, that dress overflowing, a soft look on his face.....Okay now his pants were too tight.

Ozzie clapped him on the back. "Go get em, tiger."

Lucifer smiled and returned to his seat. "I'm so sorry about that my dear, where were we?"

Adam gave a polite smile. "That was Asmodeus, right? I hope everything is okay, it must have been important."

"Nothing I couldn't handle." He winked at him. The waiter brought out their ribs, steaming hot. "Dig in love, these are the best in the ring."

Adam felf his mouth water with want. The urge to devour those ribs like an animal was strong, but he was a woman at the moment. That meant he should probably eat them like a lady, well, as much as he could, ribs were messy no matter what. They split the ribs between them and Adam bit into the tender flesh and chewed slowly, both to try and have manners and to savor the delicious flavor. Not to mention he didn't want to smudge his lipstick. "These are very good."

"Indeed they are." Lucifer had to agree they were good. "What were you like when you were alive? What did you do?" This would trip Adam up for sure!

Adam panicked slightly, he didn't have a background story ready to go. He didn't think there would be this many fucking questions! "Oh, I was a florist! Yes, a florist that's why I love flowers so much." Nice save Adam, he mentally high fived himself.

"Oh really?" Well Lucifer hadn't expected that.

"Yeah, it was a great time, my wife and I- er." Fuck, how could he fuck it up at the end like that?!

Lucifer tried to serpress a smirk. "You were married to a woman before?"

Adam swallowed, no going back now. "Yes, I'm bisexual." Which wasn't a lie.

"What was her name?"

"Ev-" Dammit Adam think this through for once! "Eeeevelyn. Evelyn." Wow, that's not even that creative.

"Did you take her last name?"

"Yes actually, it was Hugo." Adaline Hugo sounded pretty good.

Lucifer blinked and took a breath. "Her name was Evelyn Hugo?"

Adam wanted to smack himself, curse you Angel and your modern romance literature! "Yes." Adam took a drink of water. "But enough about me, tell me about yourself."

"As you know, I've been married before and have a daughter." Adam nodded. "I have a fascination with ducks. Do you like ducks, my dear?" Lucifer asked.

Adam brightened. "Yes, the little yellow ones are my favorite."

"Mine too! And, I have a thing for gorgeous, tall, brunette, women. You my dear are breathtaking." Lucifer flirted, his voice taking on a seductive tone.

Adam felt his face warm up. "Oh thank you. You're quite handsome yourself." He winked feeling bold.

"I'm not the one who looks like she belongs in a wedding dress." Lucifer clamped his mouth shut. What the fuck was that!? This was their first date and he let's something like that slip out!

Adam felt his heart leap in his chest. Lucifer thought about getting married again? He wanted to see him in a wedding dress? No focus!

The flowers on the table changed from yellow lilies to red roses. "Oh oops!" Using his powers, Adam changed the flowers back. "Dinner was lovely, thank you."

"You're most welcome. How about we go for a small walk? I can show you around Lust.~" Lucifer suggested and Adam agreed. They walked around for a while until they came to a bench in a nearby park. Adam and Lucifer sat down and gazed at the moonlight. "I've been meaning to ask, where did you get that dress? It's absolutely ravishing on you."

Adam puffed up a bit. "I made it myself."

This actually surprised Lucifer. "Really? That's quite impressive, it must have taken so long." He took a hold of Adam's hand and swiped his thumb over the top.

"Oh it was nothing really." Adam watched, his breath caught in his throat as Lucifer not only placed a tender kiss on the back on his hand, but started to kiss his way up his arm. It kind if tickled. Adam couldn't help the very genuine giggle that came out. "Luci, thats tickles."

He felt Lucifer smile against his skin, the hand not holding his wrapped around his waist, pulling Adam closer. When Lucifer made it to Adam's neck he inhaled the lovely scent of flowers and something entirely Adam. He looked into Adam's beautiful golden eyes, warmth blooming in his chest. "May I kiss you on the lips?"

Oh how long has Adam waited for a moment like this? To finally have Lucifer want him and to kiss him. "Okay."

Their lips met in a feather light kiss at first, one of Lucifer's hands on Adams waist the other holding his cheek. Adam cupped Lucifer's face and sighed happily. He gasped when he felt a tongue lick at his lips and he allowed Lucifer to deepen the kiss making him moan.

Lucifer pulled away to look at the flushed needy expression on Adam's face. "Oh and Adaline?"

"Yes?" Adam asked a little dazed out still from the kiss.

Lucifer grinned widely. "I know it's you, Adam."

Adam's face dropped, cold reality hitting him like a ton of bricks. Dread filled his insides, Lucifer knew the whole fucking time?! Was he just fucking with him? "I-I-I can explain- Mmfph!" Adam was silenced with another kiss.

"You don't need to darling."

Adam sighed and let his voice go back to normal. "How long?"

Lucifer hummed. "Well, save for the first twenty seconds you had your back to me in the hallway, the whole time."

"Why did you ask me out if you knew?"

"I asked you, because I knew it was you." Lucifer pulled Adam into another kiss, this one full of need and passion. Adam clung to him like he was his only lifeline in the world. "Want to go to the hotel I booked?"

Adam raised an eyebrow. "You booked a hotel room?"

"Another bold move on my part."

"Very fucking bold. But sure, why the fuck not?" Adam was then led back to a fancy hotel, also run by Ozzie, and they went up to room number 1001.

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #fanfiction

[ae-azile]

If I ever catch up with my WIPs, I have (another) plot bunny in my head...

Chay is still so angry. He's angry at Porsche for lying to him and joining the mafia. He's angry at Korn for likely killing his father, taking their mother away, and making her into whatever shell of a person she is now. He's even angry at Kinn for making his brother happier than Chay has ever seen him, because that means they are never going to leave this place.

But most of all - despite how fucked up those reasons are - he is still so angry with Kim. He still won't talk to him, but he dreams about him every single night. It isn't fair.

So when he wakes up after a rare dreamless sleep, he feels grateful for about five seconds until he realizes where he is. He's back in his old room, his old house, and completely alone. And when he finds his phone plugged in on the nightstand, it is almost a year behind. If he weren't so freaked out by waking up in his old bed without knowing how he got there, he would smash his phone against the wall. The screen displaying the date he went on that college tour and first met Kim is NOT doing his brain and heart any favors. He calms down for about five minutes when he convinces himself this must be some kind of dream, one that doesn't directly include Kim yet still somehow inserts him into the overall narrative.

But Ohm calls and asks if they are still meeting at their go-to coffee shop so they can gush about Wik before seeing him perform in person - just like he had asked the day it actually happened. So Chay tells him he'd rather die, hangs up the phone, and decides to eat breakfast instead. He makes it down four steps before tripping down the rest and promptly breaking his neck.

Then he wakes up. Again. In his old bed on the day of the tour. When he decides to ignore Ohm's call and take a shower instead, he slips against the porcelain and cracks his head against the wall.

He takes a hint by the third time and goes to the college to see Kim. Kim looks as good as he did the first time and doesn't pay Chay any mind until Chay obnoxiously shouts out the answers to Kim's stupid trivia questions. For some reason, that is an offense that makes getting tased by security justified.

To give Kim a little credit, Chay hears him yelling stop before losing consciousness.

When he wakes up for the fourth time, he realizes he is going to have to go about this a little differently. He goes to the school tour, attends the concert, corrects the girl's answer, and approaches Kim after the show when Ohm drags him over to get his shirt. Chay knows there is no shirt and that Kim's signature, lessons, and expensive guitar aren't worth the heartbreak. Chay wants to tell him as much.

But Kim smiles at him kindly, no recognition his eyes as he looks towards his friend in hopes to give Chay a shirt. It's then that it truly clicks that Kim doesn't know him, at least not yet. He may have figured out who he was shortly after meeting him and offered the lessons for information, but right now? He has no clue.

Chay is suddenly the one who knows everything and has the upperhand.

So Chay - against every instinct he has - asks Kim for those lessons once again. This time, it's going to be different.

This time, Chay is going to break Kim's heart first.

Notes for plot:

- Chay will die every so often, causing the loop to start once more. Sometimes he gets a month or two in, other times he gets a few days, hours, or even minutes in.

- Chay will occasionally get sidetracked from his mission to destroy Kim. He thinks it could be an opportunity to pull his brother away from the mafia prior to Porsche becoming so attached to and in love with Kinn. He also tries to save his mother singlehandedly. It does not go well.

- After several loops and a couple of long, interrupted bouts, Kim starts becoming more aware. He recognizes Chay in the crowd and starts breaking script.

- It becomes clear this isn't some simulation. Somehow, Kim is now getting trapped into this curse too, but it's more gradual.

- They end up having to work together, all while Kim is struggling to remember what happened in the original timeline.

- Kim and Chay end up falling in love in a way that is more authentic and based in truth - after Chay gets a few loops where he one ups Kim, breaks his heart first, and gets it out of his system.

*Loosely inspired by the episode "Mystery Spot" from Supernatural, but more complicated * 😂

- Other characters start becoming more aware when Chay regularly deviates from the loop in ways that won't kill him. This results in allies, as well as bringing more of the ensemble into the loop. Sorry for the pun.

#kimchay prompt #kimchay fic #kimchay plot bunny #kinnporsche fanfic #kimchay #porchay kittisawasd #kim theerapanyakul #time loop fic idea

[beauty-and-passion]

Eurovision 2024: broken promises and one last hope

Hello.

I know this post took a bit longer than usual, but I needed some time to collect my thoughts about this year’s Eurovision.

Yes, I watched it. Why? Because it wouldn’t have been fair to the artists, who took part in this year’s competition. It’s not because of them that the show was so polarized, so they didn’t deserve to be punished for that.

Also, I needed to see how far the EBU would go. I needed to see and I needed to remember. And everyone needs to remember too. Remember this year and remember what happened, when the EBU followed its policy so strictly, it ended up making the most tense show I’ve ever watched.

I will share my thoughts and I will try my best to do it effectively. It won’t be a short post and I apologize, but I tried my best.

_________________________________

Sweden: was it worth it?

We all had big expectations for this year’s show. There was Petra Mede, everyone’s favorite host. And Sweden is well known for doing great shows. This year should've been great.

 The first semifinal starts and we're bombarded by greatest hits of the past. Cool for five minutes, boring after one hour.

I’m disappointed: I expected something better from Sweden, not them recycling something already done in the past. But that’s what they did by sending Loreen back to win again, so I suppose it’s fitting.

Okay, so we have Johnny Logan, Ireland’s three-time winner. Is he singing one of his songs? No, he’s singing Tattoo.

Weird choice. Why call Ireland’s three-time winner to perform a Swedish song? Why call a representative of the nation who won as many times as you and make him sing one of your songs and not one of his?

If I were to think badly, I would think this was Sweden's subtle way to impose its supremacy on Ireland. A sort of: "You're not the best anymore, I reached you and I will surpass you. You will succumb to me". But Sweden would never do something like that, wouldn’t it?

Then we have the second semifinal. And we have a song, which can be resumed as follows: “We know we stole Finland’s victory last year, but instead of admitting there is a problem with the voting system (and the entire system for that matter), we’d much rather prefer to whine, because people have been sooooo mean with us. And yes, we will keep sending the same stuff every time, because it makes us win. At the end of the day, all we want is to keep winning, so shut up and love us.”

I don’t know you, but the line between being self-aware of your flaws and openly admitting all you want is to win (all while insulting the country that almost won last year, by saying that their show would’ve been so stupid ah ah, while ours is so cool, see how cool we are?) is very thin. And even the greatest hosting country of all time can succumb to its own hubris once in a while.

Then we reach the final. Okay, the semifinals' shows were meh and left me with a bitter aftertaste, but hey, that’s the final! It must be awesome!

After two hours, I was looking at the clock, waiting for the entire thing to be over.

Did we really need a thirst song about Martin Österdahl, the most hated EBU Executive Supervisor? Was it really necessary to sexualize this man? Is it because he’s Swedish? Is it because Sweden needs to kiss the ESC’s ass even more? Or is it because the ESC really really wants to make this guy more popular, considering people hate him?

After hinting at them in every possible way for the entire week, in the end we got AI-generated ABBA. Well, shoutout to the real ABBA for not participating in this: last year they said they would’ve not taken part and they didn't. Respect.

Alcazar were the biggest surprise of the entire week, because they are a piece of my childhood and Crying at the Discoteque is still a huge bop. But heaven forbid we having fun for more than five minutes, so they were sent away immediately.

At the end of the day, my question is: was it worth it, Sweden? Was it worth winning seven times, only to celebrate with the most boring show ever?

I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I missed Portugal’s show. Yes, the show I called “torture”, because they kept spamming the entire country for days.

You know what? I’d rather watch a country constantly spam its beauties and its culture, than another greatest hit compilation. By god, you’re hosting Eurovision. That's your chance to display your country on the greatest window Europe has to offer. And you use that chance, to repeat over and over “Eurovision good” and talk about it only.

I know Eurovision is good and cool and I love the reminder... but please, give us something more, Sweden. Something you. Listening to a country say: “We don’t have anything else to offer besides Eurovision” does not make me laugh. It makes me sad. It's not that you don't have anything else to offer, Sweden: it's that you don't want to show what else you have to offer.

You have gorgeous natural places (Höga Kusten and Gotland just to name two). You have the second-longest bridge in Europe and it's fucking impressive. Your capital is full of wonderful islands - and I found out there are tours with buses that go both on the ground and in the water. How fucking cool is that?!

Do we want to talk about culture? Your coffee breaks are literally part of your lifestyle and even have a specific name. You have that great concept of lagom which a lot of people should learn too. You are full of beautiful art and funny foods - heck, there is even a Disgusting Food Museum in Malmö! And I didn't find out thanks to Eurovision, but thanks to fucking Tripadvisor.

It's just sad, you know? Don't underestimate yourself so much, Sweden. You have a ton to offer besides this show.

_________________________________

 The Netherlands: victim of paradoxes

Europapa was one of fan’s favorite songs and of course it was: a catchy tune, funny singer, fun and happiness for a song that was both a celebration of Europe and a touching love letter from Joost to his parents.

Of course it got people’s hearts. We all love the story of a character who comes up with a dream and wants to fulfill it. And if we can, we want to make that dream come true.

So just imagine how devastating it was, to find out Joost has been disqualified. I was minding my own business when I found out and I was shocked, so I can’t even imagine how bad his hardcore fans felt.

The first question was, of course, why. What happened? What could’ve done a man who has always wanted to attend Eurovision, to get disqualified? Not warned, not penalized. Disqualified. What did he ever do, to put in jeopardy his lifelong dream like that?

I don't know if we’ll ever find out the whole truth. All we know is that Joost asked a woman to stop filming him, she refused and kept following him, so he made a “threatening gesture” towards the camera, while not touching her.

Which gesture? No idea. Maybe he showed his middle finger, maybe he tried to lower the camera, maybe he said “fuck you and stop filming me”, maybe he tried to hit the camera. I don’t know. But in this case, I would really like to know - and not just what he did, but how the whole thing went.

If this year taught us something, is the importance of context. If Joost Klein tried to punch the camera is one thing and he should be condemned for that. But if Joost Klein tried to punch the camera after being filmed without his permission, because a woman was harassing him and following him, thus breaking the agreement that wanted him to not be filmed after stage… well, that's another thing.

Sure, he shouldn’t have reacted this way. But you can understand by yourself that snapping at someone out of the blue is one thing and snapping because you’re fed up with harassment is another thing.

Did Joost deserve some punishment? Sure. But did the person filming him without consent deserve punishment too? Of course. If you have to apply punishments, you have to do it equally, not with a double standard. So if he was disqualified, that woman should've been removed from her position too. But as far as I know, she wasn't.

Also, why didn't the EBU tell exactly what happened right from the start? Why refer to it as “an incident” and give only vague explanations? Why not mention Joost's disqualification during the Grand Final? Why did people have to find out through social media and the Grand Final happened as if nothing?

That's weird, that's not the behavior of someone who has nothing to hide. What’s the matter, EBU? Why this weird lack of communication? And why not show the footage of the incident and make everything clear? Now you’re respecting Joost’s right to not be filmed? A bit too late for that, isn’t it?

So yes, in a paradoxical turn of events, Joost Klein got his dream denied by the same show he wanted to be part of. The guy with the most European song ever, the one who stuck to the ESC motto “united by music”, the one who celebrated Europe, the one whose childhood dream was to be part of this European show, got disqualified by the same European show.

What can I say? I just hope karma will do its job for him. If he's innocent, he will get good things. If he's in the wrong, he will get his punishment.

In the meantime, you can still support him, stream his songs and check his albums. Here on YouTube you will find basically all of them, since it doesn’t seem he has a YouTube channel (yet).

And if his fans still find everything absurd and unjustifiable, don't worry: if Eurovision 2023 (and all previous ones) taught us something, is that you don’t have to be the winner, to steal people’s hearts. Sometimes, you just need one performance.

And this one stole everyone's heart.

Also, since apparently paradoxes were not enough, it seems like European flags were banned for being political? European flags during a European show in a European country in the European continent.

Uh?!

EBU, one question: on which continent do you think you’re in? Spoiler: it’s not America.

_________________________________

EBU’s biggest mistake

Let's talk a bit about the current global situation, shall we? No, you can't escape from it.

So, unless you lived under a rock until now, you know that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has been going on for a long time and that recently it intensified again because of the new Gaza conflict. Israel pretends to not have committed war crimes, the rest of the world tells them to stop committing them, there are protests everywhere and people are ready to jump at each other’s throats to defend one country or the other.

Now, you’re the EBU. You say your show isn’t political. And that’s true: Eurovision isn’t political. Eurovision is a musical competition. It has nothing to do with politics.

But Eurovision takes place on planet Earth. And, as said, the situation on planet Earth is a bit tense right now. So you already know that, if you stick one single finger in this situation, you will get BIG reactions from the public.

So, what do you do, when Israel asks you to participate?

a) You tell Israel, very politely and very professionally, that you appreciate their application, but cannot accept them this year, because the situation is what it is and letting them in would bring chaos and potential dangers into a contest whose main foundation is being safe and non-political.

b) You let Israel in and let Palestine participate too, at least in spirit through people’s voices and decisions to mention it. This way, no one can say you’re taking sides, since you’re letting both sides participate.

c) You let Israel in and censor everything and everyone else, so not only you bring chaos inside your non-political contest, but make it even more political than ever and end up taking sides too.

Guess what EBU chose.

In order to stick to their non-political policy, EBU put blinders on and ignored the rest of the world. In order to let one country in because "Eurovision is non-political, so everyone is allowed to participate", they brought politics into their non-political show.

And no, it's not unexpected: it was obvious that, by letting Israel in, politics would've entered the competition too. This country and politics are bound tightly now, because of the current situation: of course if you let one in, the other will enter too.

And with politics, all the chaos of the current situation found its way in too. And that means EBU literally put in danger:

25 artists and their teams coming from all over Europe

the same Israeli gal and her team

all the tourists coming from all over the world to attend Eurovision

Swedish people who were living their normal lives and were suddenly surrounded by protests and chaos

the protesters who could've been involved in potential clashes

members of the police who also could've been involved in potential clashes

“But hey”, you might say, “nothing bad happened, in the end! You’re being too negative!”

Sure, thankfully nothing bad happened. But the risk was there, it was huge and it's not that "it would've been here anyway": the risk could've been completely avoided, by applying just a bit more human reasoning.

But even after politics found its way into the show, even after that, EBU could've saved the whole thing. If only one human being with a functioning brain said something like: "Okay, politics is in, even if we didn't want to. Now all we can do is let the other side of the conflict speak too, while we stay neutral".

But no, oh no. Mentioning Palestine and ceasefire means politics and our show isn't political. So let's ignore the fact that our decision to follow the policy verbatim led to politics being inside the show and let's keep applying the rules as if nothing: no one should mention politics, so Eric Saade cannot perform with the kefiah, Bambie Thug should remove their messages about ceasefire, Iolanda cannot keep her nails with Palestine's colors (seriously?!) and people's booing should be drowned with anti-booing technology.

You know, it's incredibly fascinating how EBU's stubborn decision to strictly follow the rules not only allowed politics inside the show, but led to the EBU itself taking a political stand, all while censoring every other opposition. EBU's rigid, mechanical application of the policy led to the EBU contradicting the same policy it was oh-so-religiously following. By making sure the show wasn't political, EBU applied censorship and not only made it even more political, but politically oriented towards one side of the conflict.

I don't know who the EBU members are and if they're human beings with functioning brains or just AI-generated bots, but please: stop following the rules like mindless robots and start using human reasoning in your decision-making process. And use common sense too, because if an idiot like me could foresee the consequences, you should've been able to foresee them too.

_________________________________

Israel: bullying cannot buy you victory

Now, we have Israel in. And the Israeli gal and her team perfectly know that their sole presence will lead to controversy and political stands.

So, if you were in their place, what would have you done?

kept a low profile during the entire competition;

showed at least an ounce of regret for unintentionally putting everyone in danger;

bullied everyone and tried to find any possible chance to beef with the other artists;

Guess what the Israeli team chose.

During the entire competition, these people kept harassing other artists, filming them without consent, calling them names, misgendering them. They kept this arrogant behavior, as if they owned the place and all other countries were just invited to their show.

And if there’s something I hate more than arrogance, is arrogance with a side dish of bullying.

So, to all the people whining because “Martina Satti yawned while Eden was speaking and Joost hid his face”: if that’s bullying, for you, you have a great life and I envy you. I wish I was bullied like that in school. But my bullying was more like… well, calling me names, harassing me and listening/spying what I was doing without my consent.

But apparently harassing the competitors wasn’t enough, so Israel decided to harass the viewers too, by begging for votes. Yes, they begged for votes. Yes, they spammed ads all over YouTube. Yes, I got one too and it was on a Eurovision-unrelated video and it made my blood boil. Yes, they were this desperate. And yes, that’s pathetic.

Also: is this legal? Is this allowed? EBU, are we sure this is part of the rules you follow so strictly? And please, tell me: is harassment also part of those same rules?

But do not worry: in the end, karma found its way. And despite the arrogance, the harassment, the tons of money spent to beg people, none of these means was enough to grant Israel the victory they oh-so-desperately wanted.

On the contrary: in a wonderfully ironic twist, the winner was one of the artists they kept misgendering and harassing. Mmmh, delicious irony, my favorite.

So thank you Israel for wasting money all over YouTube, I hope they were a lot. Thank you to all the people who made a political vote, you really got the spirit of the show, I hope you will never watch it again. Thank you Israeli team for harassing everyone and making an already tense competition even more tense. And, most importantly, thank you EBU for bringing politics in a non-political show: great fucking job, I hope someone will get fired.

And now, let's finally talk about music. Israel's song was nothing special, just the umpteenth bland song I've listened to 200 times already. And we all know it didn't get 300+ votes because everyone was in love with it. People's taste is not so bland and boring. And the final points proved it.

(On a side note, if I were Eden, I would be offended by these votes. At least the people who voted for Loreen last year didn't do it because of Sweden, but because of her talent. This year, I doubt that the people who voted for Eden gave a shit about her talent at all)

_________________________________

France: I need to make some apologies

Listen, you have to understand: we Italians know that French singers are good. We laugh, we say they’re “so French” and they keep Frenching and everything, but we know they rarely disappoint.

The problem is that France is good at the same things we’re good too. We’re both good at soccer, we’re good with food, wine, fashion. And we’re both good at singing.

So, France, remember: we might make fun of you but my god, your artists are amazing. When Slimane sang that part acapella two meters away from his microphone, I literally got shivers. He is a fucking great singer, his voice is incredible and he deserved more than 7 points.

I know French Frenching, but we should give credit when necessary:

_________________________________

Estonia, Spain and basically everyone else: two words and more apologies

Estonia 20th and Spain 22nd? Super robbed. The ignominy. The audacity. They served us beautiful Estonian language and a Spanish gal with a soft voice and that's how they got rewarded? They deserve more and better and people are stupid.

Also, I don’t know what kind of beef Greeks have with Marina, but she was good and doesn’t deserve all of this hate. Also because most of the complaints I've heard about make no sense, so… uh?!

Germany: fucking finally, people gave you votes. Thank you for persevering, your song was truly nice and I liked it too.

Armenia: yes, top 10! For great, lively, wonderful Balkan rhythm! You deserve it and your country deserves love and appreciation.

Italy: I’m okay with this result. Angelina’s performance was better, compared to the one in the semi-finals (also, better costume too, the other was too revealing and too much in general). 7th place is fine.

Ireland: I know that’s not a song for everyone and okay, fine, maybe it’s nothing special either… but my god, have you seen the performance they put on? A-ma-zing. It was interesting, captivating and full of details. And the narrative is perfect too: you can see how Bambie slowly befriends the demon and ends up killing it. It was truly enjoyable to watch. So I’m glad it got 6th place, they deserve an even higher position.

Ukraine: please keep slaying, your artists are always so great and they keep proving it every goddamn time. Also, that moment when Ukraine surpassed Israel was delicious: money truly cannot buy you love and support.

The UK: seriously, why are you whining about people not giving you points? The song was okay, but nothing truly special. Still, you got 18th place! What should Norway say, instead? Poor Norway, it has all my sympathy, the song wasn't this bad.

And now, to you all: you know what to do. Follow your favorites, stream their songs, shower them with love. Eurovision is over, but these artists are not disappearing. They are still out there, making beautiful music. Go check on them.

_________________________________

Croatia: “the audience will come to my concert, not the jury”

Baby Lasagna was a blessing and as Italian, I want to properly apologize for giving it 16 points total only. You deserved 24, shame on us for being stupid morons.

Croatia gave us a beautiful song, from a beautiful artist with a great message and upbeat sounds. And I’m not the only one who thinks this, because the rest of the public agrees with me. Marko gave us pure joy and entertainment in an evening that was mostly sadness, tension and boredom.

And yes, it’s sad he didn’t win… but he knew it, before Switzerland’s points have been announced. Look at his face, during the final voting: as soon as Petra said Switzerland only needed 182 points, he realized he was going to lose. You can see him understanding and accepting it. He knew Switzerland would get these points. I knew. Everybody knew.

So no, this wasn’t like last year: last year, it was a one-on-one game between Finland and Sweden and a tug-of-war between public and jury. This year, we had a lot of favorites. Marko was the favorite, but if Joost wasn’t disqualified, maybe the points would’ve been even more distributed.

But you know what? Marko actually got the best possible result you can get in Eurovision. People adore you, you become a legend and your country doesn’t have to deal with EBU’s bullshit. You get the best of both worlds and it doesn’t cost you a cent.

Also, consider that Marko accepted his 2nd place graciously and maturely, went back home and was welcomed by basically the whole Zagreb (Let3 were there too! Kings supporting a king, very fitting). And in an interview, he said something like “I don’t care about the jury points, because the jury doesn’t come to my concerts”. Which proves he is:

a mood

a king

the truth oracle

everyone’s spirit animal

the winner of the people

the coolest guy ever

So, Croatia: I understand your disappointment, the jury system REALLY needs to change. And no, you won't host Eurovision next year. But consider that you're everyone's favorite country now. And you won't have to deal with whatever shit will happen in 2025! So sit back, relax, may your tourism thrive and your quality of life be high.

And if all of you people really enjoyed Baby Lasagna, please consider he has a YouTube channel and there are two other songs, besides Rim Tim Tagi Dim. One criticizes social media and the influencer system, while the other is a piece of great life advice from the title: “Don't hate yourself, but don't love yourself too much”. Thank you, king, for being so real.

And in case you’re wondering, yes, they’re both huge bops.

Do your magic, people: subscribe to his channel, stream his songs, watch his videos, shower him with love and, most importantly, meow back.

_________________________________

Switzerland: a contest that can live up to its promise

In the end Switzerland won. And it’s a good victory, you know? You might not like the song, but consider that Nemo sang pop, rap and opera, all while jumping on that rotating platform-thingy and running all over the stage. And they even bent back, while keeping a high note and rotating. I can’t even keep a high note by standing still, let alone by doing all the stuff they did.

Also, this is the first victory for a non-binary person, so great for them. And basically no one knew Nemo before Eurovision, so the show came back to its roots, by giving fame to an unknown artist.

Last but not least, in an ironic turn of events, this victory is the least political thing that happened on that stage. In the most polarized, political show ever, the winner is the quintessential neutral country. Almost poetic, in a way.

And this victory is also a huge slap in the face for the EBU: in the end, it wasn't its rigid adherence to the policy that made the show non-political, it was the jury’s vote. How the tables have turned.

But there is another reason why this victory is good after all and it’s because it’s a hopeful one. The winner isn’t famous, they didn’t harass anyone, they didn’t use money to win, they brought nothing besides their identity, a kind heart and a flag they had to sneak in because of the weird “flag rule” EBU pulled out.

And I would like to remind you that, during their victory speech, Nemo said this:

"I hope this contest can live up to its promise and continue to stand for peace and dignity for every person in this world".

I think it’s a speech that tells everything about this year’s show. This year, the contest didn’t live up to its promise: it put people in unnecessary danger, it brought tension, it made it political. EBU’s strictness led to a lot of consequences, the exact ones it tried so desperately to avoid.

As a result, no one enjoyed their time. I didn't enjoy my time. When Sunday came, I was relieved that the week was finally over and I was able to leave Eurovision behind. I didn't feel an ounce of the usual post-Eurovision nostalgia. I was just glad it was over.

And it's sad and unfair, because Eurovision isn't this. Eurovision is a perfect little window of peace and unity, away from the chaos of the world. For a few hours, three evenings a year, we can leave the real problems behind and focus on silly ones, like which country should win, which should be forever ashamed and which artist will become a legend.

This year, it wasn't like that. This year politics found its way in and wrecked everything. What was supposed to be a silly, funny, lighthearted show became so heavily politically charged, it broke under the weight.

And now that I think about it, Nemo breaking the trophy is the perfect metaphorical representation of this year's competition.

Just like that trophy, Eurovision is something frail and beautiful and mishandling can break it. And oh boy, the EBU truly mishandled it. Even if it was an accident, even if it wasn't done on purpose, the trophy is still broken. The show is broken.

But when asked about their broken trophy, Nemo didn't mourn it: Nemo gave words of hope. Maybe the broken trophy can be repaired. And maybe Eurovision can be repaired too.

How? Well, maybe by starting to learn when and how to apply rules. By using common sense and sensibility. And by checking the world outside too. If we want Eurovision to keep being that small window separated from real world problems, we can't just ignore them: we need to check them and react accordingly.

And if we have to break a rule to guarantee peace and safety, then so be it. One broken rule is not as important as safety and unity.

After all, what makes Eurovision isn't a set of rules: it's the artists, with their talents, their messages, their hopes, their voices, their dreams. They are Eurovision. They are the pull that draws everyone in. They are the reason why people are "united by music". Not because a rule orders them to, not because of the EBU: because of these artists.

Maybe the EBU can start from that. Maybe it can start by looking at the human aspect. Maybe it can start by going out and looking around. And maybe it can learn to take more care of the artists who are the foundation of the show.

And maybe, maybe, they will be able to repair Eurovision too.

See you, hopefully, next year.

#eurovision #eurovision 2024 #esc #esc 2024 #sweden #the netherlands #israel #france #croatia #switzerland #baby lasagna #nemo #the artists are eurovision #I hope people will never forget it #thank god this year is over #time to recover now

[wesleysniperking]

Usopp isn’t an Underdog (TL;DR)

If we really take the time to look at it, in a very practical way. An a**pull isn’t really an a**pull. Or whatever way powerscalers like to get red in the face for.

I think a lot of people and One Piece fans have been going about Usopp in the wrong way. If you feel you haven’t, that’s fine. But for the past couple of weeks when on my break, I came to the realization after reading a book (I’ll give the title later) that when considering the genre One Piece falls under and who it’s catered to, it has indeed been a hindrance for Usopp, and even the writer, Oda. Why? Because Oda is as predictable as he is unpredictable. The same can be said for Usopp.

What do I mean by that?

Before I even get into how smart and great Usopp is, I want to state a point. A lot of people are right, Usopp is inevitably a target. Forget about the Sanji v Zoro rap sessions, or Gear 5's overpowered characteristics. Because copium or not, what Oda is doing to Usopp is intentional. When people say that Oda intended for Usopp to always be the weakest it sometimes bothered me. Not because I want him to be crazy f**kin strong. Or that my expectations are aimless. But that statement always bothered me because it seemed like those people were trying to make it a point to say that there’s nothing left for Usopp. He’s regressed and is fodder. Those two years spent on that island, Boin, with his quirky mentor Heracles was all for naught. Everyone else got these nice trainers, and Usopp’s wasn’t as nearly cool. This pained me to even just think about it. And all this shade is something I'm quoting, I don't believe any of these bad things said about Usopp. I stress this.

But I’m actually starting to embrace this aspect. No, the haters didn’t cause me to resign to their stupid agenda or hate bon*r. But they made me realize (including the book I just read), that Oda is writing Usopp perfectly. I kid you not. It took a whole analysis on David and Goliath to really make me think.

For starters, in general, us mortals (or humans) have a really twisted way of looking at the odds, or the underdog. We often think that the Goliaths are these powerful beings. We think that when we find ourselves up against these stronger people we’re at a disadvantage. Despite the One Piece fandom having a vague idea of what Usopp’s underdog status represents and how Shonen grades “weak characters”, I think this brings forward that fact. Therefore, Usopp is a weak little a**hole no one gives a shit about, and if they do, it’s to prove a point (very passionately indeed) that he’s nothing but fodder and Oda has forgotten about him. But wait. Due to our twisted way of thinking, this is where Oda is challenging us. From the start we were at first under the idea that Luffy was at a disadvantage a few times when he was up against certain villains like Arlong or Crocodile, but Oda and Luffy proved to us a few times afterwards that this small Strawhat had what it took. He had balls.

But Usopp’s journey is much more unique and complex.

I must admit, the Usopp haters sometimes get to me. I’m human. It happens. But after reading the book and a eureka moment happened, I understood that Oda was baiting the haters, HE IS BAITING THE HATERS. He’s baiting his audience. For the last three weeks, it was as though everyone couldn’t stop trash-talking Usopp, I started to go crazy. I spent 5 days straight arguing with this a**hole on YouTube who just wanted to prove and beat into my f**cking head that Usopp is “the butt” of the crew. “He’ll never be as strong as Luffy”, “He spent two years on an island and suffered from Obesity. A joke my friend”, and “Nami’s even stronger than him. He’s useless and disloyal”. Ugh!!! Anywho, I understood after reading the book that a**hats like him are what Oda wants. He’s making fun of and light-heartedly taking advantage of Usopp getting sh*tted upon. One Piece is a Shonen manga, baby! But Oda isn’t a conventional writer (that’s what makes One Piece the GOAT).

So, Oda is taking into consideration how flawed humans are in thinking what a powerful person is. He knows we think the Goliaths are the ones who have a chance of winning, when in fact, the Davids are just as formidable. If he had Usopp “take a back seat” in Wano, it was intentional.

When David stepped out behind that protective barrier to defend his people, King Saul stopped him and said “Dude, there’s no way you’re winning this.” Saul was wrong because he thought Goliath had this fight in the bag. And we know who really had the fight in the bag. And if there’s one thing to very strongly note, one thing to consider in the David and Goliath battle is that David was a projectile fighter fighting an infantryman. David was so talented with a sling that he could’ve shot that pebble through Goliath's head so deep it was practically a hot bullet—the stone/pebble David used equated to a bullet during biblical times. And he did "stun" Goliath. The worst opponent for an infantry fighter is in fact a projectile fighter because infantry fighters require making close contact to land multiple blows on an enemy. But projectile fighters can counteract that quickly with just one shot. Therefore, Usopp is at an advantage more than we think due to Usopp’s quick thinking and ammo as well. He just needs to position himself correctly up against the right opponent, and bang!

So, in this 20+ years journey, Oda has taken advantage of Usopp’s character. He wants US to undermine Usopp so badly. So that when Usopp has his biggest moment, it’ll break the fandom.

“No way! How could Usopp win that?!” “OMG. What a major a**pull!” “Damn, he one shot the hell outta [insert future adversary]!”

That finicky little word, a**pull made its appearance again. But nah, it wasn’t an a**pull.

Why?

Because David was never at a disadvantage when he fought Goliath.

Related Link 1 (more similarities between Usopp and David are discussed here)

Related Link 2

Related Link 3

photo link credit

Work Cited:

Gladwell, M. (2013). David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants. Little, Brown and Company.

#elbaf #elbaf arc #one piece #usopp #op usopp #one piece usopp #god usopp #sniper king usopp #usopp one piece #straw hat usopp #sniper king #captain usopp #David and Goliath #king David #warrior #warrior king #brave warrior of the sea #under dog #underdog #wesleysniperking #anime #manga #interpretation #blog

[kcwriter-blog]

Let’s Talk Solas on the Balcony

A comic in which Solas and a Qunari Inquisitor discuss his views on the Qunari people is making the rounds. Per usual, it is sparking conversations and arguments about whether Solas is a racist piece of shit. I don’t think people’s opinions can be swayed one way or another at this point, so I’m not going to try.

What I want to talk about is difficulty Weekes would have had writing this scene, the contradictory nature of the balcony conversation with banter, and the fact that Solas may not be entirely wrong (although he shouldn’t have said it that way).

The writing. I’m going to use the Qunari balcony conversation because it’s the most egregious, but all conversations Solas has with an Inquisitor of any race are problematic. I don’t think the intention was to cast Solas as a racist. I could be proven wrong in Dreadwolf, of course, but for now, let’s say that was not the intention.

Weekes had the Herculean task of writing the “loyalty” conversation that happens after every companion quest is successfully completed. That isn’t an easy thing to do when the character is hiding the kind of secrets Solas is and may not be feeling particularly loyal at the time.

The writer must show that Solas has doubts about his plan based on his observations of a single person – the Inquisitor. Weekes must show that Solas is looking for anything he can cling to, to justify his plans. They must show Solas’ growing admiration for the Inquisitor – in some cases against his better judgement. They must show that Solas is only just beginning to realize these people are real and destroying them would make him a monster. They must do it all without giving anything away the stinger. Not easy and very open to misinterpretation.

I love Weekes as a writer but even they can miss the mark. Solas has tendency to say whatever is on his mind in the most socially awkward way possible. Probably because he spent 4,000 years conversing only with spirits. I love Cole but imagine spending that long in a place where everyone talks like that. Also Solas' first language is Elvhen, a conceptual language that is much more fluid than the common tongue. He's trying to express complicated thoughts in a language that isn't his. Again the writer has not and probably can't give us this context.

What Solas says on the balcony contradicts his banter. This could be because of the way banter triggers. It’s possible that banter was meant to trigger after the balcony conversation to show the growth of the character. But let’s look at it.

In an exchange with Bull Solas defends Tal Voshoth. Bull calls them savages and says they are sick. Solas says they aren’t. They are victims of a sociopolitical system that denies them agency so when they gain it, they don’t know what to do with it.

If you save the Chargers, Solas is the person that helps Bull through his concerns that without the Qun he will turn into a mindless beast. My family has dealt with enough racism to know that a racist would never do that. Basically, if Solas was a racist, he would absolutely believe Bull is right and he will eventually turn into an animal.

Solas’ problem as has been stated multiple times is with the Qun and the fact that most Qunari don’t question the regime they live under. The Qun removes agency from the people. That is anathema to Solas. The problem with the balcony conversation is that this isn’t expressed. Solas seems to be saying he believes that without the Qun all Qunari are savage brutes when he clearly defended all Qunari who have rejected the Qun.

It’s poor writing because it isn’t made clear that this is Solas’ problem with the Qunari. When he says the Inquisitor is different he means that they question the world around them. They don’t take things for granted or mindlessly follow whatever their society dictates. Again, poor writing choices don’t make this clear.

And Solas isn’t entirely wrong. The Qunari aren’t savages but they can be brutal. Most of us have played all three games. We have learned a lot about the Qunari and it isn’t all good.

Their goal is for everyone to live under the Qun. The entire second act of DA2 explores what your average Qunari believes. We must fight through Kirkwall because the Qunari have decided the city would be better off under the Qun. We know that the Qunari treat their mages even worse than humans treat mages. Circles are bad but the Qunari cut out the tongues of their mages, sew their mouths shut and give them personal minders. They are fed a chemical that keeps them pliable (a chemical they feed anyone who is judged to be a problem child as Fenris tells Isabella).

The Qunari don’t have names. They have numbers. Their “names” are just their job descriptions. They can have all the sex they want but when it comes to children there is a breeding program. They are told what jobs they will do. If they don’t do what they are told, they can be made Tal Vashoth or killed. In DA2 we free a Qunari mage who doesn’t want to be free and self-immolates because he feels that’s what he must do under the dictates of the Qun. Most Qunari, even Bull, would rather turn themselves over to re-educators than become Tal Vashoth because they have been told they will turn into savages without the Qun to guide them.

As of Tevinter Nights we know that a subset of the Qunari decided to take the “Path of Blades” to forcibly get other races to submit to the Qun.

Solas would see all of this and hate it. He doesn’t hate the Qunari people - which is an aspect of racism - only what they have become because of the system they live under. The Inquisitor is different, not because they are a special snowflake (they are because they are the hero of the story) but because they don’t believe in the Qun.

The fact that Qunari can throw off what he perceives to be their shackles confuses him and makes him believe that they and possibly Bull aren’t the only ones capable of doing this. That’s not good for his plan. That’s why he wants to know if the Anchor has affected them. He wants to believe they are special because of the Anchor so he can carry out his plan with a clear conscious.

I think this is true of the other conversations with other Inquisitors. The solution to the problem would have been for the Inquisitor to be able to strongly push back against Solas’ comments. Weekes could have then provided some clarity. As it is we get no clarity and people are left with misconceptions.

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