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saekkas · 1 year

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𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆-𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍

summary: in which you go camping with the blue lock boys whilst having to deal with their shenanigans and your own feelings towards them.

includes: isagi, nagi, reo, yukimiya, rin, sae, kunigami, kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.

notes: i had to take a break halfway into writing the second scenario. my heart couldn't take it.

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐒𝐘 and uses it to his advantage! is the type to forget packing his tent and sleeping bag (intentional or not? remains to be seen) but makes up for it by being super sweet and a complete gentleman.

isagi, reo, yukimiya.

"hey, here let me help carry that!"

"no. it's okay, i can-"

your words fall into deaf ears as he snatches the twigs and branches away from your hand. you watch with an exasperated sigh as he holds them in his left, his right holding fishing equipment that includes rods, nets, and bait. he's swaying on his feet, trying his best not to slip on the muddy landscape as it's just rained, and you hide a smile from his very sweet antics.

"you're going to fall if you keep this up."

the air is breezy, wind picking up the small leaves on the ground. small droplets of rain fall from high treetops as the birds start chirping, and the forest seemingly comes alive. looking at the sky above, you marvel at its colors, watching as the sun starts to set, leaving hues of orange, purple, and blue as its parting gift for the world.

up ahead is your campsite, one you've built just hours ago. it isn't much, built by two amateurs intent on spending a night away from the hustle-and-bustle of the city life. the wind blows against your face as you take in your little haven for the night: a medium sized tent that can fit up to three people decorated with fairy lights, and two foldable chairs sit upfront.

"no worries, i can do it. we're close anyway."

your eyes move to take him in, hair damp for the natural shower with beads of sweat rolling down the side of his head. he looks like a mess, breathtakingly so.

he sends you a blinding grin followed by a thumbs up as he surveys the pathway of stones you'll both have to climb to reach your designated spot. "oh man," he groans, swiping a hand across his forehead, "why did we set camp so far up?"

"because we want to be in a place far away from the bears and foxes?" you chuckle, using the same exact words he said only hours ago before sending him a look. "you wouldn't be so tired if you'd just let me help. c'mon. let me carry the fish, at least."

"the fish are slimy and they squirm a lot." he raises an eyebrow at your request, shaking his head with a frown. "you might fall."

"then let me hold onto the equipment. they aren't slimy and they don't move."

"yeah but they're long. you might trip over them."

"let me hold the firewood then," you offer with a hopeful smile, "they're still, they aren't slimy, and they fit right into my hands."

"you might poke an eye out if you hold onto them."

he's been like this the whole day. it started in the morning when you were just about to leave for the trip. at first, it was the little things. he offered to help carry things like snacks, luggage, or the portable stove. it got worse when you arrived. he insisted on doing every single thing, from setting up the tent to unloading the things from the car, refusing any of your help. he even offered to carry you when it started raining, not wanting you to get wet.

"okay. that's enough." the wind picks up and it's silent for a few moments until another light shower hits. you cross your hands in front of your chest, huffing as a strand falls onto your face. "either you let me help or we stay here under the rain until tomorrow."

he says your name with a shy mutter, quickly glancing over at your expression to determine whether you're being serious. "i- just don't want you to get hurt?" the answer comes out as more of a question and he winces at his own nervousness.

his eyes flicker back to yours for a second before he sighs, walking over to hand you the fishing equipment. "there," he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. "we should go before you catch a cold."

"before we catch a cold," you correct, holding out a hand for him to hold.

"before we catch a cold," he mimics your words with a slight laugh, taking your hand before starting to climb the pathway. he mumbles be careful and watch your step, don't want you to slip several times as he keeps his eye on you the whole way back. when you finally reach the top, he tugs you into him to press a small kiss on your forehead.

"good job," he smiles shyly before he all but runs into the tent. "hurry up! before you catch a cold."

you dash under the tent and into his waiting arms with a mad grin.

"so what's with the princess treatment?" you ask with a quirked eyebrow as you pat yourself dry with a towel. "not that i mind but it's more than what i'm used to."

"ah. well. i just didn't want you hurting yourself," he says with a blush creeping up his neck as he runs a hand through his slightly wet hair. "and i- i still feel bad for this morning."

taking in his words, you fidget in your spot as butterflies start to flap in your belly, your heart warming from his intentions. "wait. this morning?" you ask with a tilt of your head, a curious expression your face. "what- oh! the sleeping bags, you mean?"

"yes." the blush intensifies further, crawling up his cheeks. "i still feel bad for forgetting my sleeping bag."

"well, i told you that i don't mind sharing mine." you shrug your shoulders, punching his shoulder playfully. "it isn't like we haven't slept in the same bed before."

"the last time we slept on the same bed was 10 years ago. in 3rd grade," he deadpans with a wince before turning around to face the opposite side of the tent.

you watch as he strips off his shirt, your eyes trailing down his bare back. he doesn't seem to notice, intent on changing into a fresh set of clothes. "well hey, who knows?" you add with a cheeky smile as you tease, "maybe you did it on purpose so that you can sleep with me again."

he groans, his blush threatening to envelop his whole face. "you're horrible. i told you, it was an accident. i left it by the door because i was in a rush to leave," he pouts.

"okay. i believe you." you giggle at him, watching with soft eyes as he zips up the tent, lighting the fairy lights surrounding the inside of your tent. "i'm just saying that i don't mind either way."

you listen to the sounds of nature, the soft chirping of crickets and the howls of the wind. you listen to the rustle of fabric as he prepares the sleeping bag. and you sigh, flustering as the thought of spending a night in the same sleeping bag as your childhood best friend and crush finally dawns on you.

"it's ready. do you want to slip in first?" he asks as he finally finishes dismantling the fabric, nodding at you with a shy smile. "it'll be a tight fit, though. are you sure-"

"yes." you cut him off as you shuffle into the sleeping bag, pinning him in place with your eyes. "i told you. i don't want you to freeze in your sleep, so please get into the bag with me and shut up."

"okay. okay," he chuckles as he raises his hands as a sign of surrender. "who knew you could be so bossy?"

you bite your lip and do your best to help him fit in by wrapping your hands around yourself. a minute later, he's in the sleeping bag with you, his arms and legs bent into awkward positions because of the tight fit.

"hold on," he mumbles as he starts to squirm around. "let me try something."

your heart is beating out of your chest at his proximity, your face warm as he finally settles into a position. he places his chin on your head, his hum reverberating through you. one of his hands lays itself under his head, the other on his hip. you close your eyes, trying to control your heart rate as he slots his feet with yours.

don't be nervous, he's just your childhood friend. your childhood best friend. he doesn't think of you as anything else. stop making this so weird.

"is this okay?"

you don't have the courage to see his face, blindly nodding against his chest. your heart lurches out of your chest, butterflies breaking out into a frenzy as he then wraps a hand around your waist timidly.

"you can tell me if it's not," he mumbles from on top your head, his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin of your hip. "i'll move if.. it's too much."

"no," you answer into his chest, slowly leaning in to press yourself into his warmth as the stiffness bleeds off your limbs. all traces of uncertainty and embarrassment fly out of your brain when he kisses the top of your head. "it's.. perfect. you're very warm."

"i am?" you feel his chest rumble underneath your hands. you feel his breathy laugh against your head. you feel his lips touch your forehead, your eyes closing at the intimacy of the moment. "we won't freeze in our sleep then."

"we won't."

he feels you nod against his chest, your hand gripping the material of his shirt. he stiffens for a moment when one of your hands move to his head, patting and playing with his hair.

he looks down at you, meeting your eyes.

"hi," he smiles shyly.

"hi," you giggle back, entranced by the soft hue reflecting off his face from the fairy lights. you watch as he slowly closes his eyes, leaning down before stopping just inches from your lips. giving you the option to sink or swim.

emboldened by his action, you lean in to reciprocate the kiss.

you both spend the night asleep in each other's arms, waking up the next morning with shy smiles, intertwined hands, and matching bedheads.

𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 but seems like the complete opposite. he looks bored out of his mind to even be participating, probably the type to have an emotionless expression the whole way through. grunts and sighs when asked to join any of the activities. don't be fooled though, he'd do anything just to spend a second alone with you.

RIN, sae, kunigami, nagi.

"thank you for the food!"

cheers ring out in the dining room of the villa, clinking glasses and plates heard throughout. meant as a friendly gathering, you watch with vivid amusement as the group of boys start to dig into their food.

"who knew they were such slobs." you look to your left as he scoffs the words, his eyes filled with poorly disguised annoyance. he ignores your curious eyes, instead choosing to focus on his own plate filled with baby back ribs, mashed potatoes, and grilled corn. "what?" he asks with a muted expression, boredom lacing his features. "do i have something on my face?"

"not at all," you laugh nervously with a shake of your head. internally, you're kicking yourself for staring too long. "was just curious about what you said."

he nods his head, picking up a fork to scoop the mashed potatoes into his mouth. there's a minutely silence, one you fill by eating your own share of food, still watching him from the corner of your eye. he's been nothing but quiet from the start, and you wonder if he's glad that the trip's coming to an end.

"do you have plans for the rest of the night?" you ask, nibbling at the cob. you hum in delight when the sweetness of the corn melts in your mouth.

he snorts at your happy expression, a shadow of a smile appearing on his face. "no," he answers bluntly, his bangs falling into his eyes as he shakes his head. "was planning to head in early."

"but they were planning on lighting the fireworks," you put down your corn, looking at him with a frown. "aren't you going to join? it's our last night here, after all."

he eyes the stray piece of corn in the corner of your lips, his hand itching by his side to swipe it off. "no." he angles his body away from you, stretching across the table to take two glasses of guava juice before he sits back down, placing one in front of you. "not a fan of explosions, you?"

"thank you." your chest warms at his gesture, smiling to show him your gratitude. you take the glass into your hand, lifting it to take a gulp. "me neither. i'm sitting out on this one."

you feel the pinpricks of his stare on the side of your face as you savor the flavor of the fruit. the ice cubes clink against your teeth, and you shiver at the coldness they spread through your body. gulping it down, you lick your lips at the sweetness of the fruit.

"wait," he calls your name in a low tone, and you look to him at the sound. your eyes widen when he leans in, his face right in front of yours, as he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. your hand clenches into the seat below, trying to ground yourself as he slowly retreats, his eyes on your lips the entire time.

your eyes stray to his lips in return, only to flick up into his eyes. you see them fill with amusement and his lips spread into a small smirk. biting your bottom lip, you watch as he brings his thumb, the one that was just on your lips, into his mouth, tongue peeking out to lick the digit.

"you listening?" you break out of your stupor as he smiles slyly, his eyes glinting. his voice is low, and you feel a shiver run down as it caresses your heart, holding it in his palms with a tight grip, never intending to let go. "you went somewhere there. mind telling me what's on your mind?"

"sorry. i- i was just thinking about how good the food is," you stutter, your eyes locked onto his as the others fade away into a blur. "don't you agree?" you laugh nervously, pinching yourself when his eyes stray to your lips once more. "you were saying?"

"are you planning on sleeping after this?" he repeats himself, slowly turning back to his food with that godawful smirk still on his lips. "or were you thinking of doing something else?"

"i was going to stargaze. the sky should be clear since we're far away from the city." you place a hand on your thigh, pinching the skin, doing anything to stop your heart from beating so fast. you look away from him, trying to shake his gaze and previous words out of your head.

i think i'm going mad is the first thing you think to yourself as the night air blows in your face. it's chilly, yet comforting, guiding you deeper into its embrace. the sky is clear, a dark blue sea dotted with thousands of glimmering stars, twinkling as if saying hello. the ground of the roof you sit on is cold, sending goosebumps across the exposed skin of your legs.

"ah. should've brought a jacket." you sniff, the wind biting at your cheeks but there's a smile on your lips. one of content and happiness. "i'll miss this when we leave," you whisper into the night, tucking your feet into your chest and leaning your head on them.

"i'll miss this too." the sound of his voice startles you, and you look over your shoulder at his approaching frame. you take in the way he walks with his hands in his pockets, a warm, oversized jacket on his back. he nods his head in greeting before he sits himself next to you.

it's quiet for a few seconds and you can't bring yourself to look his way, his previous stunt and words still playing in your head like a broken radio. there's a sound of rustling before he places his sweater on your head. "hey!" you complain, still not looking at him as you take the jacket and cradle it into your chest. "i thought you were going to sleep."

"changed my mind." his reply is simple, short, and you think nothing of it until he adds in, "wanted to spend it with you."

squealing on the inside, you chuck the fabric at his face, which he evades with an amused glint in his eyes. he takes it from the floor, gently brushing off the dust before placing it around your shoulder. like a warm embrace.

you look at him, trying to ignore the heavy fabric on your shoulders that smells and feels exactly like he would.

he offers no explanation, his lips sealed shut as he takes in the view. the silence is calming, like a cup of hot chocolate after playing all day in the snow. it isn't long after that his hand comes to intertwine with yours, tugging you onto his lap like it's nothing. you feel him sigh into your neck, breathing in your scent. he places a soft kiss on your cheek, whispering three words that calls for your heart to do the same.

it feels like coming home.

𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒. has watched every summer rom com, which he forces you to watch along with him, and is desperate to at least recreate one scene from the classics. thinks that the best friends-to-lovers trope is the best one and is dying to make it happen in his own life.

kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.

there's nothing like feeling the air in your hair, the glide of water on your skin, and the smoothness of jagged rocks on the soles of your feet. a water gun is in your hands, and your chest heaves in exertion as you hide behind the bark of an old oak tree. you push your hair out of your face, annoyed by the looseness of your once tight bun, and listen to the pitter patter of feet against water.

"gotcha!" he practically yells as he throws multiple water filled balloons at you, most of them breaking against the tree. "you're horrible at this."

"i am not!" you giggle to match his laughs, running from your hiding spot with your gun pointed at his face. you take aim and smile in satisfaction when it hits straight on, laughing as his grumbles about water getting into his nose. "you're the one horrible at it. i win."

you walk towards him, face smug, with your gun pointed towards his chest. "ready to give up, criminal?"

"criminal, eh?" he asks with his hands raised in surrender, a twinkle in his eye that has you suspicious. you stand your ground, staring as he steps forward to press his chest to the muzzle of your gun. "guess that makes you the goody-two-shoes cop then?"

"it makes me the winner," you say with a raised eyebrow, eyes following the motion of his hand when it swoops down to caress your face. "what are you doing?"

the water from his hand drops onto your cheek and wets your hair as he swipes a fallen strand onto the back of your ear. a droplet slides onto your neck, running down the side of your body, and you shiver as he follows the motion with an unreadable expression on his face.

"sorry got distracted there for a sec." his grin appears just as fast as it disappeared, his eyes trailing down your body as he moves his hand to your hips, squeezing the fat around it. "you're pretty wet already, baby, and i haven't even done anything."

it takes you a minute to process his words. between the hand on your hip, drawing little hearts into your skin, and his pretty eyes, you're swept off to a place far away. at the same time, the wind sweeps down to envelop you both, caressing your bodies with a gentle kiss. if you close your eyes, you could imagine it was his.

"enjoying the view so much you can't speak, hm?" he looks at you with half-lidded eyes, and you watch them trail down from your eyes, down to your nose, and finally onto your lips. "can't blame you. mine's pretty good too." he leans in, eyes closing just a fraction, intent on making this the best moment of your life.

too bad something slimy makes its way past your foot, causing you to screech and jump towards him.

"hey! hey! woah!" the position you landed in isn't ideal. your legs are spread above his hips, making room for his body under yours. your faces are just inches apart, nose touching, and breath mingling with one another. "you okay?"

his hands are back on your hips, this time grounding as he wraps it around your waist. his eyes are filled with concern, his hair as wet as the rest of him is. he surveys your face, looking for signs of panic in your wide eyes. he sends you a sweet smile at last, one of his hands moving to rub gently against your back.

"it's okay. you're okay. you're with me." he lets you rest in the crook of his neck, stroking the back of your head. you can feel his heart beating through his chest, the organ racing against your palm. he tugs you back to meet his eyes, a hand cupping your cheek, as he looks you in the eyes. "that's it. that's better."

the stream is gentle under you. small fish swimming in pods start to gather near your bodies, curious of the two humans interrupting their peace. your body molds with his, your heart screaming to lean in and press a kiss.

"sorry," you mumble as you correct your stance, leaning back to straddle his thighs so he wouldn't be half submerged in water. his hand falls from your back, going back to its original position on your waist.

"it's fine." he brushes away with a chuckle, leaning back on his elbows as he looks at you. his heart is still beating irregularly fast, more so at the sight of you practically on his lap, the sun's halo against your head. you look like you're an angel. his angel.

your eyes go from his hand onto his face, your hand sliding up his chest to sweep away the water splashed onto his face. "you okay?" his silence bothers you, your expression turning into one of worry. "are you hurt?"

"not at all." he watches as you push off him, standing on your own feet. the warmth you exuded disappears with you, as if washed away by the stream, and he has to bite back a frown. this better not be what friend-zone feels like. "it feels nice to have you worry about me, though~"

he watches you roll your eyes with a tender expression. he eyes you, trying to sear this moment into his mind. his eyes linger before they catch onto the pine tree behind you, nervousness sparking as an idea comes to him.

"come with me." he doesn't give you time to react, hurriedly taking your wrist in his hand, and running towards the tree. he laughs when you shout in surprise. "just trust me!"

you're both panting when you reach it, the oak tree you hid behind just minutes ago. you turn your head, surprised at the distance you've covered from the start of the game. "okay," you say as you pant, hands on your knees. "tell me what you're up to or i'm dunking you in the water again."

"oh. so that was on purpose." a sweet grin appears on his face, his eyes misted over with a lovestruck haze. "and to think-" he stops when you pinch his cheek, laughing at the pout on your face. he misses the feeling of your hand when you turn away seconds later.

the tree stands by the waterline, tall and imposing, a testament to its age. you watch as he picks up a random rock, whistling as he starts to carve something onto the bark. you approach, gently leaning over his shoulder to see what he's made.

it's your initials. surrounded by a poorly drawn heart.

the sight has you giggling, shaking your head at his childish ways. "one of the scenes from your rom coms?" you ask, as you face him with your head still on his shoulder. you watch as the red gathers at his cheeks, his eyes fluttering at your close proximity. "ticked another off the list, then."

"not yet." he tries his best to remain nonchalant at your gaze, shrugging his one shoulder. "mind if i complete it now?"

"you don't have to as-"

his lips are pillowy and soft, the hand on your nape warm. there's a certain giddiness in his movements as he kisses you, his hand shaking where it's placed on your neck. you don't have the time to comment on it as he pulls away right after, his eyes alight with affection. you're sure you look at him the same way.

"i don't have to ask?" he asks as he strokes his thumb on your cheek, a grin on his lips. "got that."

this time, you chase his lips, shouting when he playfully runs away, "come back here, you thief!"

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killersfool · 5 months

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You Might Get What You Want | ROBERT KEATING

PAIRING: robert keating x original f!character

GENRE: childhood frenemies to lovers

SUMMARY: lucia (luz), nieve ella’s keyboardist, has an estranged history with inhaler—especially with the band’s bassist, bobby. their fiery hatred for eachother rapidly blossoms into something sweet, especially when she learns that he wrote a song about her.

WORDS: 5.8k

WARNINGS: kissing, swearing, alcohol use, mild sexual content

Being Nieve Ella's keyboardist has completely altered the course of my life. Only eight months ago, I was doing my second year of uni, trying to get through a Music course and completely regretting all of my life choices. My favourite part of the day would be getting home and sitting at my piano, writing songs and posting them on Tiktok. Views racked up, followers kept coming in and I think I realised how well everything was going when Laufey commented on my cover of 'Like The Movies'. Then about two weeks later, an email shot through my phone—literally like a bullet to skin. I dropped the rectangular device to the ground mid-lecture, hand on my mouth, teeth in my lip.

Nieve Ella had asked me to join her on tour. With Inhaler.

At first I was laughing, then I was bawling with endless tears of happiness and now I'm on my final show still feeling woozy and adrenaline is banging through my brain. The whole band have become my best friends. And, quite shockingly, me and Inhaler have a weird shared history. I've known them since I was really young. I used to watch their first gigs at tiny venues where they'd run around in the crowd and hardly anyone knew the lyrics. I went to the same school as Bobby, Eli and Ryan who were a bunch of madmen. They'd let me hang out with them backstage or at practice and jam before they finally found a 'proper' keyboardist (Louis). To be honest, I'd always been slightly salty that I never got into the band. But I guess we were never close enough and I could be quite horrible to Bobby — but honestly, he deserved it. He was a whiny, teenage nightmare. Still is. Except he's not a teenager anymore.

Thankfully, Nieve Ella and the band take a train separate to Inhaler. I don't have to hear Bobby's jests 24/7. Today we're heading to Dublin. The final stop of the Cuts and Bruises tour. It's been a long ride but it's all been worth it. I've had the best time ever. I'm listening to the Strokes, a song Bobby recommended to me a few weeks ago. It's been on my mind ever since and I can't stop hearing the same chords and riffs over and over. Even when my headphones leave my ears. The song is 12:51 and funnily enough Bobby has a tattoo right on his bicep with those exact numbers. The lads gave us a rather enjoyable tattoo tour with reasons for each of their inked designs.

I lay back my head against the cushioned seat. I like this, I prefer it to what I was doing before. The constant stress, the exams, the structure. I like the freedom of doing shows and seeing new people and travelling to new places. Never sure what you're in for. Crowd after crowd with all different energies and enthusiasm. The adrenaline rush is the best part of the day but when you wake up the following morning, it's like the life has been sucked out of you. You feel like nothing. Human. A person with legs and arms. Flailing around with no thoughts in your head. A billion times worse than a hangover. Post concert depression. The lull after such a powerful high. It's nice to go through that hell with a group of friends who all feel the same way. Becomes a strange group therapy.

For the past hour, I've been begging Josh to tell me what is on the set list. I'm praying they'll add some different songs. Older ones. Seeing as it's the last show of the tour. Something to surprise the fans. Maybe 'Falling In' or 'There's No Other Place' or even my favourite 'You Might Get What You Want'. That was one that was written when Rob was the lead singer of the band. When I'd bang the keys in that garage. When we'd sing the lyrics together and sound like an awful church choir. I never got the chance to listen to it live, performed properly by the band. I'm still heartbroken they didn't leave it on the track list for the album. I have to resort to listening to illegal Spotify versions.

I feel like crying everytime I remember this is the last show I might ever do with Inhaler. The last time I might see the lot of them. They'll surely disappear off into the shadows once tour is over, making their next album, cutting off all contact to focus solely on their music. After spending so much time with a group of people, then completely losing them from your life, you just feel so very empty. Like a swimming pool with no water. Or a mug of tea left hollow after spilling it all by accident. Last night — I would never dare to admit this to anyone — I cried for two hours straight into the pillow of my hotel room. Tour is a glorious thing. Fun, exciting, terrifying all at the same time. But the thought of finality is what split me into pieces, broke me up and squeezed tear after tear from my eyes.

Fran keeps looking at me with raised eyebrows like she's about to ask a question. She's scribbling on her set list, making sure she knows exactly what's happening and when. Her earrings twinkle as she tilts her head, her eyeliner sharp and perfect. Her mouth parts the slightest bit to reveal white teeth, a small smile. "You alright there, Luz?"

God, anytime someone asks me that, it makes me want to cry ten times more. I look down the train compartment, stare at the bathroom and decide whether to make my move. Do I run and hide in there for the duration of the trip, two hours of crying into mouldy train toilet paper? Or do I try to brave it and tell her how I feel? Or just lie through gritted teeth? She's good at reading me. She'll know that I'm not telling the truth.

"Don't tell Nieve this but I feel like absolute shite." There it is. I said it. Fire sinks into my skin, blood rushes up to my head. I squeeze my cheek to make sure I am actually sitting here and that I'm not hallucinating. Lack of sleep had made me seem some weird shit. I need caffeine. Quick.

"We all do." Fran puts her hand on top of mine. "Look, one more show, then we can sleep for as long as we want."

"That's the thing. I don't want this to end."

Fran gets up from her seat and swivels around the table. She sits down beside me, arms opening up and embraces me until I think I see stars. No one has ever hugged me so tightly. My bones seem to audibly shift.

"Nieve's doing a few shows in February, remember? And I'm sure next time Inhaler tours, they'll be on their hands and knees begging for us to come back." She strokes my hair. "Although, Bobby might be telling us to bugger off instead. You two need to sort out this drama. It's driving us all mad."

"He started it." I sound like a three-year-old irritated at my brother.

Fran laughs to herself. "Fucking hell. I bet he did."

—

Arguing. It's happened again. Our last day together has gone to a great start.

First stop of the day—a random restaurant that Ryan dragged us to. Hugs were shared, kind words uttered, teeth glowing under dim lights. I sit down on a wooden chair, peel my jacket from my body and place it on the back. The cool wind is slamming against the windows. I'd forgotten how cold Dublin was. Especially in November. Some Christmas lights adorn the streets and pubs are lively with masses of people. We were stopped a only once on the way there by a group of fans—even our attempt at scuttling through empty alleyways didn't work when five friends with Inhaler-themed cowboy-hats impeded our trail. They were lovely. Photos taken and compliments exchanged. Sadly, Bobby was in a bad mood. When I say a bad mood, I mean a 'I want to kill everyone on this planet and throw myself on a train track' kind of bad mood. He hid away from the fans, behind me and Nieve. His height wasn't particularly helpful in that instant. The blonde, 'Amelie', had said in her thick French accent, "Is that Bobby? I was wondering where he was."

Caught. Found. He thought staying there for a while longer would make them think he wasn't there at all. Amelie was persistent, however, and said softly, "Please could I take a picture with you?"

Her friends all started whispering. Eli was tapping his friend on the shoulder to get him to move. He was frozen. Eli frowned and shook his head.

"Sorry but Rob's being a bit weird today," Josh explained. "I don't think he wants any photos."

Amelie nodded, but the sadness in her eyes was apparent. "That's okay."

I felt bad for the girl. I turned around, looked at Bobby. He was on his phone. Scrolling through Tiktok still crouched down. A quick look at his phone screen showed me that he was watching edits — edits of himself. I had to take a double take to actually believe what I'd just seen. He was staring at clips of himself, smiling, and wouldn't even stand for five seconds next to a girl who'd paid to see his band. He continued to swipe his thumb against the screen, blue eyes lit up by his bright phone.

Then his eyes caught mine and he closed the Tiktok tab. "You didn't see that, did you?" He worriedly spoke so unbelievably quickly, I had to scramble my brain to decipher the words. His smile flipped upside down. Shock written all over him. Blush rising right up to the tips of his ears.

"The hell is wrong with you?" I muttered. Nieve heard. She stepped away. She did not want to be involved in whatever the two of us were plotting.

"What's wrong with me?" He breathed. It's like he was asking himself the question but there was an unyielding harshness to his voice, raspy and agitated. I was sure that this argument was going to be just as bad as the Sid Vicious incident, or worse. Halloween Bobby was on a different wavelength — bordering on depravity.

"You're watching fucking Tiktok edits of yourself. Didn't think you could be that self-centered—"

"Can we not do this now? Please?" Bobby tried to get me to calm down. Amelie and her friends were still only metres away, asking Josh about the tour, about the next album. Fran was listening in. She was smiling to herself. Part of her definitely enjoyed the beef between us.

"Show me your Tiktok."

"No."

"Now."

He sighed. I grabbed his phone, opened Tiktok straight away. His whole 'For You' page was edits of himself. The account he was on was a fake user account. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"What the hell..." Was all I could manage to say.

"I can explain."

"Can you? Go on then."

He didn't say anything. Took his phone back and kicked the brick wall beside him. He shook his phone around like he was going to throw it as well. That wouldn't change anything. I'd seen the worst of it — at least I hoped I'd seen the worst of it.

"Take that photo with those girls and I'll shut up about this." I gave him an option. A way to let him get out of the hole he'd dug for himself.

He was so tall. Sometimes I forgot that. But there, back straight, no longer slouched and his neck craned to meet my eyes. I couldn't hold eye contact. His clenched jaw was making me nervous.

"Fine." He finally concluded the argument with a single word. His index finger then pointed towards me, just beneath my neck. "But you don't tell anyone about this."

I grinned. "I promise."

Stepping over towards Amelie, he smiled widely, put an arm over her shoulder and allowed Fran to take the picture of the group. Moments later he was complaining about his shoes. How they were too small. If Robert Keating had a chance to complain about anything, he'd take it and wouldn't shut up about it. I just knew at that point that we'd be hearing about his shoes for the rest of the day.

Tension is thick in the restaurant. I can almost taste it in my mouth. Rob sits beside me. I don't want to look at him, don't want to hear him talk, don't want to have anything to do with him. He's only the only person I won't miss once this tour is over.

Before anyone can get a word out, Eli taps his fork against his glass. All eyes fall to him. Grace is next to him, she's appeared out of nowhere.

"I just want to say thank you to Nieve, Fran, Lucia, Finn and Matt for being such great openers on our tour. We're so grateful for all of you. This wouldn't have been the same without you."

"Aw, Eli, I might cry a bit, please stop." Nieve shakes her head, holding her napkin to her eyes. "This has been such a dream. We should be thanking you for giving us this opportunity."

"We need to do this again sometime." Ryan pitches in. "Next time we tour, you're coming with us."

"Yeah. That would be grand," Josh exclaims, pulling up his pint of Guinness and crashing it against everyone else's.

Bobby, after all his hours of complaining, has gone back to silent, angry mode. Playing around with his fork, he stares blankly at the menu, fingers tracing the lettering. I watch him as the others melt into conversation. I just want to know what is going through his head. Why is he acting like this? Last week, he was fun to be around and we had a good time. Especially when he's drunk, he loosens up a bit and stops with the facade. He even kissed me once. As a joke. I think.

It was a mess of alcohol. A 'midnight tour bus party'. We were in London and instead of going to the hotel, we ended up spending the night in the lovely green tour bus. We all got so drunk we could hardly speak. I can't remember all that we got up to but when we were sobering up, Bobby dragged me outside of the bus. He gave me his jacket, placed it over my shoulders. We sat down on a random doorstep, hugging each other to keep warm. Two penguins. Two people who usually hated eachothers guts, finding comfort in the warmth that emanated from our bodies. I'd never thought his hair was nice until that moment. How it grazed over my neck. How the curls twisted perfectly and his overgrown mullet framed his face. Or how pretty his eyes were as they shone under streetlights. Dreamy, long eyelashes, sea-like waves. He'd kissed me. His long fingers over my cheeks. His pink lips slotting between mine. I pulled away, shocked. Electricity had sparked between us, my heart was pounding, my body was a torch. Then I ran away from him. I couldn't understand what If just felt. I had never seen him in that way. We never mentioned it again.

Maybe that's what has made him colder. I still haven't acknowledged what happened that night. I keep thinking that he was too drunk to even remember it, but maybe he does. I'm not going to bring it up. Especially now. Especially in this restaurant with everyone sat with us.

"I'm sorry, Lucia."

My heart drops. Bobby is looking at me. Downcast. Entire state is disjointed. His mouth just said that, his brain just formulated those words.

"What?" I must've heard him wrong. Imagining it. This time I must be hallucinating.

"I'm sorry about that night."

Mindreader. He knew what I was thinking about. What my mind has been lingering on. The weather reminds me, his scent reminds me, his hands remind me, his jacket reminds me. That night. London. The night after Troxy. The wind — cut-throat, sharp, steely — the rain, and my tear-stained bedsheets. The taste of his mouth and the dejction locked into his eyes as I left him. Like I'd made a terrible mistake. Like running into my hotel room, alone, was the worst possible option I could've chosen.

I'm wearing the same earrings as I did that night — these ribbon ones that a fan made for me. Bobby had pointed them out — which he shifted between his fingertips and said they suited me. He's eyeing them now, hands curving, resisting any urge to touch them again, to drag us back to that moment.

The waiter takes my order. Bobby's words properly forage the depths of my mind, the veins and the arteries circling around my body, the aching crevices of my heart. I ask for the first thing I see on the menu and a Fanta. I want to stay sober. I want to savour all that will happen beyond this second. Bobby also doesn't get alcohol. Shockingly. The Bobby I know would never turn down a pint of Guinness. But he gets a 7up instead and takes a long, hard gulp of it when the waiter comes back. I'm counting the cracks on the table, how squeaky the chair is, the coffee stain on the ceiling — trying to guess how they managed to get up there. Musicians like to occupy their brains. They don't like to think too much - just do.

"I'm sorry..." I whisper. Finally giving him a reponse after a long pause for thought.

He had been waiting for an answer. He catches it. Twists uneasily in his seat. Wood creaks. Rain patters.

"...It was wrong of me to leave you." The image of his despair still rings through my bones. I swear when my cells divide they keep trying to recreate that look on his face.

"I shouldn't have..." his voice lowers, heat pf his mouth glides by my ear "...kissed you."

I'm trying to drink my Fanta with no reaction. Sugary greatness. Cold, slightly wet fingers. Orangey flavouring. But his voice is so low, trickling, burning, goosebump-inducing. I can't look at him. He's too close to me. It's too hot in the restaurant. Soundcheck is in 20 minutes. I want to run away again. I always want to run away.

Down my Fanta, smooth my skirt, breathe in deeply.

"I liked it." I similarly glide my lips over his ear when he's least expecting it, returning the favour.

He coughs. Chokes a bit on his drink. Then he eats his Pesto pasta with the pinkest neck I've ever seen on a person. Jacket off to reveal long, tattoo-covered arms, and the muscles that have progressively been getting bigger over the months. I join Ryan and Matt's drummer conversation to stop staring. It's weird. Being attracted to him feels wrong. Teenage Lucia would be ashamed. She’d slap some sense into me.

Dinner ends quickly. We're thrusted back into Dublin air before we can even adjust to the complete switch in environment. Running to the venue, through alleyways, shooting splashes of water all over the place, we realise how late we are. I feel better than I did in the morning. That dreaded train ride. Bobbys giving me the silent treatment again. I hate it. I hate it more than when he's being downright horrible to me.

Our set was unbelievable. The best show I've ever done. The crowd was unreal, the size of the place was absurd. We had never sounded so great. Everything went according to plan. We're crying now that we're offstage. We need something to uplift us. Nieve's idea is to party in the back. Which is one of the best parts of the night.

We find a spot just before Inhaler goes on. Screams bleed through the room, adoration written in teenage faces, phones held up to capture the moment. The five lads on stage. One final time. I scream like I'm sixteen all over again, dancing as the first song 'These Are The Days' begins to play. Shouting along, throwing my hands in the air. I don't think I've ever been so happy and fulfilled before.

The setlist is the usual. I didn't expect them to change it. Eli gives a little 'thank you' speech, mentioning us at the end. Then suddenly encore starts and I'm met by a mildly unfamiliar song. The crowd seems just as confused as I am. Bobby is wearing that stupid black vest and I swear his bass has been lowered all the more. The next time they perform, it'll surely be grazing the floor.

Bobby doesn't normally speak to the crowd at shows. It's always Eli. But as they play the intro, he begins to speak, "Hi everyone. Hope you're all having a good time." Commotion, screams, chanting 'Bobby' as if it's a cult gathering, not a concert. His eyes are searching through the crowd. The party in the back turned into moshpits and luckily I got pushed near to the front. His eyes land on mine. I can tell he's looking at when he plays with his earring — like it's a code between us. He keeps playing the same few notes on the bass lazily as he grabs the mic stand. Everyone is silent and listening as he says, "This is 'You Might Get What You Want'.

I recognise it now. I'm sent back to high school. 6 years ago. Practice room at school. Instrument cases strewn all over tha place, broken drumsticks leant against the wall. I'm sat at the piano as Bobby announces, "This is a new song I wrote." He passes me the chords starts singing. My thoughts are quiet. The external world is too loud for me to think. I'm lost in the music. The song is beautiful — lyrics, chords, arrangement, Bobby's voice. That was the day when I wanted to ask to join the band. Then Bobby was horrible to me so I changed my mind. I even asked him what the song was about. He looked at the Jim Morrison poster on the door, hand against his buzzed head as he thought up a response. "A girl," was his final conclusion. I thanked him for his specificity. He told me, quite frustratedly, it was 'none of my business'. Then he was riled up and told me to leave because I was 'playing it all wrong'. One of the last times I ever played with the band. So when I hear the song again — I'm back, sitting at the piano with my school uniform, waiting for cues to play the next chord.

The crowd goes wild at the fact that Bobby is singing alone. This is unusual. The majority of the crowd don't know the song. Reminds me of their first gigs in tiny venues. I sing along, staring at Bobby as he stares back. I wonder which girl the song was actually about. At seventeen, he hung out with every girl in sight - parties, random town meetups, gigs. The way he is looking at me is shattering me down to my core — eyes painted with affection and how he keeps moving his earring. For some reason, I wish the song is about me. Then he sings, 'You Might Get What You Want' whilst pointing right at me. Has anyone else noticed his staring? Nieve and Fran seem clueless. It could all be in my head. His face appears on the screen. I stare. Not ashamed. Appreciating his beauty for as long as we have left. Only tonight. Then nothing. Only the possibility of seeing eachother once again. It won't be set in stone.

I'm a sweaty mess by the end of the show. Last goodbyes, last waves, last shocked stares at the extent of the crowd. I always forget how boiling it gets in the standing area. I'm almost at the point of suffocating. We leave with the crowd, taking a few selfies with fans along the way. I stand in the merch queue. I need something to remember this. Something I can keep and wear and just be brought back to this venue, to this atmosphere. I buy a black tour shirt with the bubbly lettering, slipping it over my tank top. I just know the change in temperature will murder me. The more layers I have on, the better.

We slip through the crowd. Thankfully, it's quieter after my long time in the merch queue. I'd never seen such a long amalgamation of people.

Back at the hotel, I crash straight down onto my bed. Don't even turn on the lights or take off my clothes. I just close my eyes and stretch out my body like a cat. It all happened too quickly. I left the band early to head back, although I heard the rest of them were going to the tour bus to get drunk. I've already had so much fun. I just need to relax. Alone time. Silence. Comfort.

A knock on the door.

I jump up. Still in my Inhaler shirt and lacy white skirt, I feel like taking a shower. But whoever just knocked has impeded any plans. I could just pretend I didn't hear them. I could fall asleep and they'll just walk away.

Another knock. I jolt up this time. It's louder.

This time I reach the door. Sliding the keyhole open, I see him. Of course it's him. Of course. Of all the people that could be here right now. His hair is wet, mussed up. He's holding his jacket under his arm as it's completely drenched. Looking from side to side, he seems to contemplate giving up and leaving me solitary.

I open the door. Let my guard down. I want to talk. Rant. Let out all the garble mixing up and stuffing my skull. He'd listen to me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask. I don't say it rudely. Make sure to keep my tone quiet and curious. The rise of his head to meet my eyes is almost film-like, tracing along my skin, photographic.

"I need to talk to you."

"Come in then."

Close the door behind him. He drops his jacket onto the floor. Slides off those shoes with a groan. They really are too small on him. He can hardly untie the laces without sucking in a quick breath. He looks at himself in the dodgy mirror, trying to fix any flying pieces of hair. His beard is growing a little — little moustache fading in above his mouth.

He sits down on a chair by the table. His lengthy legs reach up to the end of the bed where I'm sat. He picks up a tea bag, sniffs it then puts it back. I'm worried about what he's about to say. He looks like he's gone through hell and back to get here. I've never seen him so dishevelled.

"You were amazing today." I hate the silence. I fill it up. "You all get better every time."

He's been so serious since he came in but the ghost of a smile haunts his lips. They twitch then fall. "So do you."

“Is this about your weird For You page because I’m pretty fucking worried.” I’m trying to forget I saw any of those edits.

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head. He's hugging his chest, arms shivering. My eyes narrow. Each hair on his arm is stood to attention.

"Do you want a blanket?" I'm about to look for something to warm him up when his hand clasps around my wrist. He's stood up. I'm sat down, looking up at him. His thumb traces the inside of my wrist, over a bracelet I have. One that he gave me when I was sixteen. A friendship bracelet he'd brought to one of the rehearsal sessions. I wore it just to get a reaction out of him. This is the first time he’s noticed it.

I want to ask him what he's doing. But then he's sat next to me with his arms around my body and I forget what I was going to say.

"Robert..." I don't normally say his full name. It's the only word that's coming to mind. His wet hair is dripping all over my skirt, his head is against my chest, he won't look up at me.

When I pick up his face, stretch my hands over his cheeks, I find his crystal eyes glossed over. Tears. He's crying. I don't know how to react. He buries his head back into the crook of my neck like he's embarrassed. Then he's breathing heavily. Heaving. Sniffling.

"What is it?" I whisper. I stroke every inch of his hair, the nape of his neck, the thin material of his vest. I trace the tattoos on his arm. Finally landing on the music notation inked into his wrist.

"I don't want you to leave." He holds onto my waist, under my shirt, cold skin. "Stay here. With me. Please."

I wipe the tears from his face. I must look like a beetroot. I'm boiling.

"Really?" I think I'm crying as well. I can't help it. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him so unguarded, so helpless.

"I only sang that song so you'd hear it." He looks up at the ceiling, cogs turning in his brain. "It's not just about a girl. It's about you."

"You're kidding." I have to laugh.

"I'm not. I wrote it during the summer holidays before high school. I had some weird thought that you were going to call me and ask me out. I was always a prick to you so I don't know where that idea was coming from exactly. It's just when you want something so badly—I guess your brain manifests it into reality. Like every time I turned around a corner, I thought you'd magically appear. I thought you'd say that you liked me. But then you went off to Uni, the band got big. And now this. You're in fucking Nieve Ella's band. I thought I was going to throw up when I saw you get out of the train. Everything just came back. I didn't put the song on the album because every time I hear it, I just remember what an idiot I am for not treating you well and for not telling you how I feel. Singing it brought me back to the practice room, to that shitty piano with pedals falling off the hinges. How you made such a disgusting piano sound divine. I don't want to make the same mistake. If I let you go now, I'll be regretting it for the rest of my life."

"So you were looking at me? When you were singing?" I tilt my head, thumb below his eye.

"I might have been." He's not crying anymore. His voice is less rough. He sounds like normal Bobby again.

"I'll stay with you. As long as you want."

"Forever?"

"Bit too long. I can only deal with you for about three hours at a time."

"Then we should make good use of the—" He looks down at his watch. "—Two hours and 43 minutes we have left."

"What do you have planned?" I'm getting closer to him. His nose bumps against mine.

"What do you want to do, Luz?" He's challenging me. Thumb swirling over my lips.

"This." I kiss him. Lips to lips. Two notes in perfect harmony. Everything we've been through culminating into one simple kiss. It's a peck. A tease. I pull away as I feel him yank me closer.

His hands find my ears and it's like that night again. His mouth tastes the same. Sweet. Lukewarm. He still grazes my bottom lip with his teeth when he feels me shift back.

"You're an angel," he says.

At that, I'm kissing him again. This time with more passion. Exploding fireworks. Jumping into the ocean, water floating around you. The ringing in your eyes after an explosion. An earthquake. A tidal wave. So many feelings at once. He's trying to take my shirt off. I let him. Pulled it over my head so quickly I thought he might get my neck off as well. He throws it onto the nearby chair, looking at me, with those glimmering eyes and perfect eyebrows. Beauty spots and smooth skin. I attempt to take off his shirt too, although it's pretty much stuck to his chest. He helps me out, laughing at my stress.

"It's not that hard." He smirks, tugging at the top as I manage to unstick the bottom.

"Fuck off." I roll my eyes.

He pushes me down onto the bedsheets, helping me up until my head is on the pillow. I look over his frame. Long torso, large biceps, chain around his neck. It's too much to deal with. Hooded eyes, smirk on his lips, happy trail leading down to his belt. He knows how he's making me dizzy. He leans down, curling over me, scent hanging, cool skin against mine. I throw my head back. I've never been touched like this. So precise. So gentle. Like I'm his favourite bass guitar. I'd never noticed how long his fingers were until they were splayed over my bra, until the other hand was sliding up my thigh.

He kisses my neck, my shoulders, my collarbones, the valley between my breasts, tongue flat, teeth sharp. I hold onto his hair, then onto his toned shoulders. This morning, I would never have expected that this would happen. That the boy I loathed was admiring me and tasting me with unrelenting adoration. Now, the thought of leaving him makes me sick to my stomach. I pull him a little closer, kiss him a little harder and remember just how red teenage Bobby's face was after he'd sang that song to me. How defensive he was when I asked him about it. Now it all makes sense.

I won't ever leave him again.

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takaraphoenix · 2 years

Text

I came across a post that, paraphrased, went roughly "Every time you see someone speak up against censorship, it turns out to be about incest or something problematic".

And. Yes, that's kind of the point, because nobody is trying to censor the 100% wholesome, morally upstanding vanilla ships?? That's not where the conversation about censorship starts, and for a reason?

The way the point just COMPLETELY goes over these people's heads.

Censorship starts out with the "problematic" content. That's how they get their foot in the door with EXACTLY these people like that OP. Show them that no, no, we are just concerned, just want to take out this Clearly Morally Wrong stuff. That's fine, right?

No. Even if you yourself find the content horrible and would never want to touch it, it has a right to EXIST because the moment you open the door to censorship, you lose control of what gets censored and why.

And the really pathetic part about this is that most antis operate from a place of utter hypocracy, to begin with.

In every single fandom I've been in where there were antis, judging and harassing others for the "problematic" content they consumed, the antis themselves were hiding behind ships just as bad, if not WORSE.

It doesn't even take much efford to list things about antis' supposedly morally superior ships that makes them problematic. Heck. Most ships have something about them that constitutes unhealthy or toxic if it were a real relationship. Throw a ship at me, I'll tell you why it's problematic.

But these people's false assumption is that their personal interpretation of morals is the one that will be applied in this purge and only the content they dislike would then be censored while the thing they love would NEVER fall victim to censorship, so a bit of censorship would be fine, to clean up fandom.

That's not how it's going to be. Your own problematic fave gets censored too, because no blind eye and bending over backward to explain why this particular thing is somehow ~different~, despite being the exact same.

And once we're through with the biggest offenders? The search for problematic content will be widened, more things will be targeted and deemed problematic, based on a definition of the term even they may no longer agree on - but it's too late, because the door's wide open now.

It's less about protecting one specific fetish to get your rocks off to, it's about acknowledging that these are the conversation starters used to convince others to open the door and let censorship in and we need to stop it before it gets in, even if that means defending other people's right to create fictional things that we, personally and individually, may dislike or even find disgusting.

Because once you start limiting something like art, free speech and fiction in general, how those lines will be drawn becomes blurry and that power WILL be abused by the wrong people.

So let's not give them that power.

#Censorship #Purity Cult #Discourse

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bones-edition · 11 months

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Storytime! I love my new job but the hallways are a fucking nightmare.

So I recently started working at a fancy rich person retirement home. I work in the dining room, so it's mostly just bussing tables and making iced tea and shit. But it's also my job sometimes to go deliver meals to the residents rooms when they can't make it to the dining hall on their own.

So one day, a coworker and I have to go deliver one of these meals. There's like three different buildings, that are connected some places but not others. For example there could be a connecter between two buildings on the third floor but not in the same place on the second floor.

To make matters worse, all the hallways look the same. You can tell which building you're in, generally, by the decor. One has beige hallways with vaguely red accents, one has beige hallways with vaguely blue accents, and one has beige hallways with vaguely purple accents. Beyond that, there's no way to tell which part of the building you're in. There's signs, but the signs are the most confusing thing ever. Because the arrows on them only have four different options for directions to point, when something is a different way, rather than using a slightly incorrect arrow, it's just not on the sign.

So, we're trying to find the room number for this meal. We're in the farthest building from the dining room where we work. It's my third day on the job. I'd never done this before. My coworker, who's supposed to be training me, has only done delivery twice before, and never on her own. She seems to be reasonably confident. We get three out of the four meals delivered. She explains to me that this building is basically a square. There's four hallways, A, B, C, and D, and if you walk around long enough, you'll eventually go in a circle. Easy enough.

The room were looking for is E three hundred something. As it turns out, E is a new wing of the building. That my coworker has never been to.

That's okay. I remember being told that you can get to any of the hallways through the third floor. We go to the third floor. Wander around for a while. There is no sign of any hallway marked "E". I have no idea where we're going, she has no idea where we're going. The hallways are dead silent. Most of the residents are at the dining room or in their rooms, and we encounter nobody in these halls.

Now you know how I mentioned the decor being color coded earlier? We're in the building that has purple decor. The two of us wander through dozens of beige hallways with beige hallways and beige carpets and vaguely purple modernish decor. It's the same abstract art piece on every wall. Every door looks the same. We wander through at least three intersections that have the exact same shelf with the exact same objects in the exact same positions.

We are utterly lost at this point. How did we end up in hallway C? How did we go from the third to the second floor without taking an elevator or stairs? Why is there no sign of hallway E? How long are we going to try to navigate this purple and beige hellscape? At this point, I would not have been surprised to encounter a woman with shifting spiral eyes and too-long fingers and a laugh that sounds like a headache. The anxiety is strong. Had I been alone, I would have given in to the fear.

Eventually, we end up on the first floor, and emerge into a lobby. There's a receptionist, at a desk. She ponts us toward hallway E. It turns out, you can only reach it through the first floor. The relief that washes over both of us is tangible. We deliver the meal, most likely lukewarm by now, and my coworker looks at her watch and curses, saying that the manager will have her head for taking nearly forty five minutes to deliver a meal. It seems that for now, the problem is resolved.

Still though, I feel a twinge of fear now whenever I walk that endless beige and purple labyrinth, and just sometimes I think I can hear the echoes of a laugh in the distant halls.

TLDR: I'm like ninety percent sure the hallways of this retirement home are a spiral domain and I have no idea how old people manage to navigate them without getting lost.

#Its so funny how when I write a post like this from scratch you can see the tone change as i get more into it #anyway true story #mostly #tma #helen distortion #oleanders chaos

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frogmanfae · 8 months

Text

Newsies as Things I Heard This Week Part 2

(2 weeks late because I had to figure out how to divide it, a lot of things were said during week 2. 14 pages in my notes app to be exact)

Medda: When I see you shlep your way down- it's a word yeah and you shouldn't be doing it

Medda, teaching an orchestra class: You're using your middle finger which I know we don't always use- and you shouldn't

Race and Romeo: *SIDE EYE*

Davey: Yes, you can take all the blood and puke- that- that is all you, my friend. Go for it I... It is no longer my responsibility I don't want it

Medda, still in the context of a string orchestra class: I notice that some of you aren't always rosining your bows before we play, we should be doing that every time we play. I haven't been holding you accountable lately but I'm going to be a Rosin nazi this year

Davey: Wh- huh?? A what??

Jack: *trying (and failing) to not snort laugh*

Race, a self acclaimed fashion expert: What the hell are you wearing?

Romeo: A T-shirt

Race: But what is on it

Romeo: An axolotl

Race: A fuckin-

Romeo: It says you axolotl questions!

Race: ...

Romeo: Like- like you ask a lot of-

Race: No I get it I'm just trying to remember why I hang out with you

Race: He's like my favorite kid

Race: He wants to be a professional soccer player but he also likes marine biology

Davey: Oh and you also like both of those things

Race: Right exactly

Race, to Albert: Okay so Goldie Locks's parents were kidnapped by the bear mafia and then she broke into that house because she wanted to find her parents but she got sidetracked by food and comfy places to sit and nap because she's a kid

Spot, just walking in: What the fu-

Albert: *laughing hysterically*

Spot: No. No seriously what did I just walk into? What is this? What about Goldie Locks? Bear Mafia?? Huh???

Race: Does anyone wanna go to my locker with me so I can take Advil? I don't wanna go alone :(

Davey: *big sigh* I'll go

Sarah: Why are you walking like you just got ate out so good you can't-

Davey: wh- Do you have experience with that??

Sarah: ...

Sarah: Listen-

Davey: OH MY FUCKING GOD I WAS KIDDING WHAT-

Crutchie: So it's basically icy hot but for horses-

Davey: You should absolutely not be using anything meant for horses

Crutchie: But like it's stronger-

Davey: Which is why you shouldn't use it

Crutchie: But it works better because its stronger

Davey: ... No

Albert: *big wheeze of despair*

Race: ... Girl are you okay?

Albert, not even looking up at being called girl: I just dropped my croutons everywhere!! I'm gonna fucking- where's the nearest window?

Race: buddy we're on the first floor

Albert: FUCK

Davey, who gets chronic migraines: Ugh I'm in pain

Sarah: *holds up the L for Loser on her forehead*

Davey: Ah!

Davey: :0

Davey: You're!

Davey: a lesbian!

Sarah, as if she's never heard this information: :00

Race: I go through that shit like that one senior guy goes through the freshmen before he turns 18

Davey: HELP OH MY GOD STOP WHAT THE-

Race: *shrugs and continues on* It got my point across

Race, who will play sports but not watch them: Do you ever notice how people watch professional sports and after the final call they're like "we won!!!"

Albert, an avid sportsball watcher: Uh yeah?

Race: Like, dude. You sat on the couch and ate Doritos for 2 hours. There is no *we* here.

Oscar: *cleaning sports equipment in the distance*

Elmer, giggling from across the room: What is he-

Buttons, also giggling: He is just- He is stroking those balls like... Like his life depends on it damn-

Elmer: *giggles worse* he just loves stroking tgose- oh shit he spotted us- go!! Go go go go gogogogogogog-

Spot: The only tenor in my choir class is-

Race: Your brother! And your boyfrienddd! And brother...

Albert: ... Same person?

Race, sadly: ... Yeah...

Jack: *the person in question, neither Spot's brother nor his boyfriend*

Spot: Oh my god stop posting on my private story!

Race: It's funny-

Spot: No it's not and I want you dead !!!

Crutchie: Ugh I wanna chop off my body

Jack: like

Jack: the whole thing?

Crutchie: yeah the whole thing. Ill find a way to make it possible

Spot (trans): let me know when you do

Crutchie: *shakes his hand* will do my guy

Race: I wanna go hooommmmeee!

Spot: No one cares

Race: :0 you're so mean!!!

Davey: it's okay Race

Davey: I care

Race: Davey I love you

Davey: There's a cafe named after John Snow, the scientist not the game of thrones guy, and it has a water pump sorta monument outside because he was the one to say that the cholera outbreak was caused by bacteria not air-

Race: Do the food options have punny names?

Jack: Like- like what?

Race: I dunno- cholera flower? (Cauliflower)

Albert: STOPP THAT'S SO GROSS BUT SO FUNNY I'M GONNA THROW UP

Katherine: You're thinking way too futuristic. We didn't have that kind of understanding of the infectious agent during this outbreak, it was in the early 1800s. You have to think like we're in the early 1800s-

Jack: *joking* Then you shouldn't be talking

Katherine: :0

Jack: You shouldn't even be in this class! It's science!

Katherine: :00

Jack: Woman!

Katherine: :000

Race: I am about to mangle your face and your body here

Spot: Thanks for the heads up

Davey: I LOST MY FUCKING WORDLE STREAK ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WHAT THE FUCK

Race: Oh my god calm down it is not that big of a deal-

Davey: IT WAS A 218 DAY STREAK

Race: NEVER MIND THAT'S TRAGIC WHAT THE FUCK

Davey: I KNOW

Romeo: I have 3 study halls this year it's glorious

Specs: You are not going to have enough credits to graduate

Romeo: That's a later me problem

Specs: You're a junior, you don't want to spend your senior cramming credi-

Romeo: Shhhh future problem

Specs: *long blink*

#newsies #newsies as things I've heard this week #this is only half of it from week 2 #david jacobs #jack kelly #lots of race in this one #he's just so easy to fit into these

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ihopesocomic · 10 months

Note

It's awful that people are trashtalking something you've clearly worked hard on because of a video that I thought was actually harmless and very helpful. What makes it worse for me is that you both spoke up from a place of oppression and yet you're getting 'if only you'd kept your traps shut and let me enjoy my cartoon lions, then i'd respect you and your work'? Disgusting. I can tell how done you both are with this situation and I think I speak for everyone when I say I don't blame you at all.

I think my favorite part of the whole thing was we weren't even the first and only people to make a lot of the points we made in our video. And all those people who said it first were quickly dogpiled and didn't say anything afterward until we posted our video. It was really something witnessing whole-ass adults saying how amazing MP is for its "mature themes" and "good representation" of queer/disabled people, while in the same breath ridiculing those who come from one or both of those groups who dare try to point out serious flaws (it doesn't really matter whether the fans are also queer/disabled, you just. Don't do that when you're an adult? That's shit I expect from children.)

So frankly we're tired of it. Its unacceptable, and too many of them are well into their 20's. Everyone else who is a MP fan has had perfectly normal reactions and discussions with us, I don't know why everyone else takes it so personally to the point they have to defend objectively harmful tropes just because their favorite pointy lion is attached to it.

Everything RJ has said before, and in my case, what, am I not allowed to point out tired old offensive lesbian tropes? Because I've been doing it a long time, and I'm gonna keep doing it until people stop making offensive lesbian stereotypes LOL (And like I've said before, these are stereotypes that were old years before MP came out. Guess that's on me for assuming people would care about butch lesbians in the year our lord 2020.) I'm not gonna stop just because you happen to like the show. You can either listen or not. It doesn't help that MP is a lot of peoples' first exposure to queer characters in animation. And since it's made by professionals, why would they doubt it, am I right? lol

I've talked about how I'd fix Hover many times, and none of those times had been what we're currently doing with Storm. It would be easy to turn Hover into a character that's closer to myself and call it original. But guess what, I'm not the only kind of butch lesbian out there. I wanted to show appreciation to the kings out there that aren't taller than their girlfriends, that don't have the deepest voices, or the biggest muscles. Cuz contrary to popular belief, butches are diverse. Which means we aren't crass chucklefucks who abuse our partners. You'd think that'd go without saying, but here we are. Not only does it STILL happen in media, but an off-putting amount of people relate to Hover, or like her without bothering to understand why a character like Hover would be offensive to some of us.

Which is all it boils down to. We've been very consistent with our opinions for the last 3 years and people make the exact same arguments against us. They don't want to learn, because if they did, they'd at least acknowledge what we have to say instead of making assumptions every single time we mention MP. - Cat

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vanillachaiii · 2 years

Text

replaced mc!au drabble

based on the fic @azlrse wrote cause ive been having it burn slowly in my brain

pronouns used: they/them - mc is gender neutral (this is my first time ever writing for gn!mc sorry if it’s not too good!)

tw: reader has an anxiety attack, crying, mentions of physical pain

theres also a part where one of the brothers talks; you can imagine the one you were involved with as as the one that is speaking during that scene

“We’re looking to have another exchange program.” Lucifer said. “We’re conjoining all three realms once more to have another successful year."

Successful, huh? Tell that to President of the Student Council who now stands as the gateway for human exchange students. The wound was still healing from the hurt the brothers induced on them.

"Have you asked Solomon for another human sorcerer?" MC had asked calmly, keeping their composure for when they had asked the question to Lucifer, and to the rest of the brothers.

The eldest brother nodded. "We've already found one human student, all we require is a second one."

The human president had closed their eyes and thought slowly. Placing their hand under their chin, they pondered long and hard about the decisions and outcomes.

Should they say no, and not only risk an imbalance of the realms, but also limit the possibilities of a student having an once-in-a-lifetime experience to stay in a different realm?

Or...

Should they say yes, and risk one of their own students going through the exact same thing they went through all those years ago?

The seven brothers practically bore holes into MC's figure that was situated behind the large mahogany desk.

The guilt had never left them ever since the day that they left the House of Lamentation. Each and every single one of them knew, that deep down, they were guilty for all that happened. Pushing them away, neglecting them, not allowing them to be with any of the brothers, and worse of all; abandoning the one person that dared to pick up the broken pieces of their family and put it back together with bleeding hands.

They had done so much for them; and yet they still put them through something far more worse and painful than hell itself.

"I will need time to think this decision through. Both with my student council, and myself." MC's voice broke through the uncomfortable silence.

The brothers had exchanged looks and nodded. The room turned cold and quiet once more, nobody daring to say a single thing as MC started to write down the details they had just heard from Lucifer about the program.

"We're so sorry, MC."

Their eyebrow twitched in annoyance and anger.

"There is nothing to be sorry about-"

"But we-"

They looked up at the brother who was speaking, glaring them dead in their eyes as they slowed their speech.

"This was simply a proposal, was it not? I ask that you keep it that way." MC demanded in a low tone.

The brother that had spoken closed their mouth, and shied away from the crowd. Of course they would still be upset. Asking for a demand this huge from the one they'd hurt was practically like asking for death on a silver platter.

“Are you planning to have three human students again? Or are you going to do the two students like you should’ve done before?”

They all deserved that jab.

“The King and I have stated only two exchange students will stay for one year.” Lucifer said, crossing his arms over his chest. “The exchange program only hosts two students from each realm for the entire year.”

The President started unimpressed. “I do hope so.”

More silence filled the room as MC started to write more words in their agenda.

After a while, they finally finalized their request and placed it in their folder.

“I will get back to you as soon as I can once the council, the Dean, and I have all come to a conclusion.” MC spoke, the stern and cold look still etched into their facial features.

Lucifer stood up after they did, the rest of the brothers standing as well to say their farewells to MC for the first time in so long.

“You can take your leave.” MC said, opening the drawers of their desk and finding a place in the drawer for the papers that were exchanged.

As the brothers said their ‘thank you’s in silence, the door finally closed with a click, and they finally let their tears fall from their eyes.

After all those years, the President thought they could be strong.

But their pact marks still burned into their skin.

The memories that were carved into their brain never left.

The nightmares from that night, the evenings before, never left.

The days spent crying, they never stopped.

The days spent in spite of hating the person they were in the past, it never faltered.

They had become the epitome of what their past self failed to be, and yet, they merely crumbled at seeing the brothers once more.

They were hopeful, for a sliver. But they had built their defenses for years.

Sorting through the folders, MC's fingers brushed upon an old framed photograph that was shoved to the back of the space. It was of all the brothers, the king and his butler, the angels, Solomon, and themself in the middle. Smiling. Grinning. It was their birthday in the Devildom.

That was when everything was still perfect. When everything was still fine.

Gripping the frame in their hands, they let out a choked cry and hurled it across their office; the glass shattering on impact when it had collided with the bookshelf.

They fell to the ground, holding their head in their hands and curling into a ball as hiccups and fat tears escaped their burning eyes.

“I was a fool to expect anything from them anymore.”

And yet, while they were all alone in their office, the seven brothers stood outside.

Guilty and ashamed.

What had they done?

#obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me angst #haha ouch #i am not okay #ouchie

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solardragun · 1 year

Note

This latest episode really highlighted what kind of “heroes” our girls are. Running away, leaving the town to fight the Jabberwalker on their own. Didn’t they just state before they’re Huntresses? Didn’t Yang say to Ironwood in Volume 7 that Huntresses don’t run from a fight? But that seems to be a theme isn’t it? Whenever they go to a new place, they always either cause trouble or leave it worse off. Mistral, Argus, Atlas, and now here.

its infuriating and wild to me because the exact same things they lectured all the adults for, they're doing the exact same thing.

how dare you lie to us? you need to trust us!! anyway, now we're going to lie to and betray our only ally because how can we trust him?

how dare you want to nuke mantle? oops guess we dropped an entire kingdom on the city we were trying to save. oh well.

how dare you want to safely tell the public about salem so you don't cause mass panic? anyway now we're sending a message to the entire world about salem and not handle the fall-out

how dare you want to sacrifice the civilians? anyway, we're gonna lead all these innocent people into a grimm infested desert. they'll be fine.

how dare you come up with a plan to save the kingdom? anyway, we're just going to sit around in a mansion and hope a solution drops into our lap

like?? some heroes. and I'm so tired of seeing the "well they're just kids!" they can't be 'just kids' when they're hijacking a communication tower and spilling confidential information to random civilians and stealing a relic and making enemies with their only ally left. they're not kids when they're making these big decisions.

it wouldn't be as bad if the narrative actually addressed this, and not with small little "let's stop pretending we know what we're doing" / "I'm tired of watching cities burn" or whatever weiss said. that's not owning up to the fact that y'all were the ones that destroyed two kingdoms and left another one in shambles and are about to possibly destroy another one.

#anonymous #asks.#aphs.#rwde

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inkyquince · 2 years

Text

SHARED THREE WAYS

Remy x Wren x Male!PC x Niki

Your mother marries into a certain well-to-do family in the farmlands but it's hard to keep up with two stepbrothers and one rowdy employee. Especially since you're the one trapped in a den of hungry monsters.

content warning. Remy is a dick but what else is new. Niki being a creep, nonconsensual voyeurism, photography, Wren is a whore, one mention of Remy harming PC, bad mother, its previous generation so names shall be dropped, cock!whore Remy. This part is Wren-centric, part two is remy centric and part 3 is niki centric. 5.1K

(part 1/ part 2/ part 3)

You thought the upper crust of the town was bad. Danube street always felt lightyears away from Domus Street despite being right next to each other. It was an entirely different world, where all the lawns were trimmed to the exact centimetre, all houses stood tall and pristine, with polished school children trotting along, clothes perfectly ironed and shoes gleaming in the sun.

This was somehow worse.

Your mother tended to become wrapped up in every single boyfriend she'd get and made sure to align both of your lives with theirs in as many ways as she could, as if to prove to them she was the one they were missing all their lives. Her track record wasn't great with this. It always ended with her with tissues and ice cream in front of the TV as you tried to get things back to normal.

"You don't even know him." You muttered, watching the town you grew up in merge into the vacant fields just outside, the sea disappearing as you drove further inland.

"Yes, I do!" Your mom chirped, tapping her nails against the wheel. "We're engaged and it's time we finally got everyone together."

"It's stupid." You said flatly. "I haven't even met him."

"Because you were always such a grumpy little cow to all the others. I decided to change things up and hey presto, maybe it was your attitude that drove the others away."

You didn't bother to reply. This was the worst case of "boy fever" your mom has gone through in a long while. Telling you a few days ago to pack a suitcase and chuck everything else, selling the house to move in with some rich asshole out in the farmlands. You had fought to stay, bringing up reasons you should stay in town. That you had just a few months of your last year to finish, that she laughed at, and said you would be tutored along with her fiancé's "boys". You asked to stay in town, with a friend, and she was horrified at the thought. You said you didn't want to move out in the middle of nowhere and she tossed your empty suitcase onto your bed, refusing to continue the argument.

With every fading building, you quietly said goodbye to your friends in your head, knowing they will only know on Monday your mother had gone off the deep end again. Eden would have scoffed, calling you an idiot for not taking up his offer to come stay with him. You were going to miss sitting next to Sam as Mister Winter droned on, passing notes back and forth. Hell, even meeting up with Landry after class and wandering around town without money in your pockets and splitting a milkshake when things got bad at either of your homes. Hell, even rougher kids were okay to you, which was a blessing.

The drive dragged on, passing a cute little farm with a red headed woman chasing around a gaggle of similar haired kids, the moors which Morgan had dared you to stay overnight in before panicking and trying to get you back himself. You perked up passing a riding school you never noticed before as your mom pulled off the main highway onto a well kept gravel path.

It wasn't until a few moments away did the new place you were staying at come in view.

You thought the upper crust of the town was bad.

At least those guys had to follow building regulations and not have their houses three times the size of the orphanage you had lived most of your life next to. It was huge. There was a section connected behind the estate, with barns and fields just out of sight.

As your rickety car pulled up, three people emerged from the house, a tall man turning around briefly and pointing his finger at the second tallest, almost threatening. Your mom didn't notice as she hurriedly stepped out of the car and called his name with glee.

Her fiancé was a tall, broad man. Almost spitting image of those lean horse riders your mother would watch in riding competitions, mooning at the screen. Short, shaggy brown hair with stubble, with the meanest eyes you've ever seen. You knew mean kids, but there was a streak of maliciousness in him that never appeared in Briar or Bailey's snide glances.

You awkwardly stepped out as they embraced, and just leaned against the car, trying to look anywhere else than at the gross display of affection. Instead you focused on a small group of boys hanging out by one of the fences on the side of the estate, leaning over to get a closer look at the arrivals. You caught the eye of one, ruffled blond hair bright in the sun and he shot you a wink as the others guffawed.

"-And this must be him?" Pulled away from warm brown eyes and back into the situation, you blinked up at your... About-To-Be-Stepdad-Maybe.

He stuck his hand out for you to shake, which you awkwardly did, his fingers squeezing yours too hard.

“Nice to finally meet you.” You finally said and his lips twitched.

“Remy, Niki, greet your brother properly.”

The other two boys’ expressions matched yours as you were called brothers.. The older one, lean and tall finally walked down the remaining steps, only to continue to tower over you, his eyes matching the cruel glint his father had.

“A pleasure.” Remy, you believed, finally said, taking your hand in his in a brief handshake.

Your palm stung as he squeezed it, glancing down as he walked back to the smaller brother. A thorn pushed into the sensitive skin of your hand. Did he.. ?

Not having a proper moment to think about it, Niki stepped up, his hair hanging into his eyes. He didn’t look a lot like his brother or father, with messily dyed blond hair, and black roots, rolling a lollipop against his teeth as he barely grasped your hand before dropping it.

“It’s so nice we’re all together.” Your mother gushed, still hanging off new-darling-stepdaddy’s arm, oblivious to the sour mood stagnating between the four of you.

He wasn’t even listening properly, looking over her shoulder at the gaggle of boys staring, a small frown on his face. The blond one seemed to meet his eye and ducked his head quickly.

“Niki, show your brother to his new room. Remy, show your mother around the place.” He carelessly cut her off.

“She already poked around before.” Remy muttered but cowed when his father shot a glare at him and went back up the stairs, your mom following closely behind, chatting away.

His father gave you one last inscrutable glance, dragging over your lips and throat, flicking down to your hips before walking off, the boys scrambling away except for the brown haired one, waiting as if expected to be told off. Niki didn’t help you with your luggage. Stuck his hands in his pockets as you hauled your suitcase out of the trunk, lugging it as he made his way back into the estate.

Your room was…Quite nice. Bigger than your entire kitchen on Danube street.

“Is… Are you and your brother’s rooms like this too-”

“Remy isn’t my brother.” Niki said flatly, popping the pink sweet out of his mouth. “Half brother. You’re not my brother either.”

You felt yourself flush out of embarrassment. Don’t talk to Niki, got it… Maybe, given the thorn pushed into your hand, maybe don’t talk to Remy either.

“Someone will come get you when we eat.” Niki stuck his lollypop back in between his teeth, shooting you a distasteful look before leaving the room.

You sighed as soon as the door shut, unzipped your suitcase. This was already going to be hellish and awful and lonely and-

Dropping your school supplies as you opened the bottom drawer of your bedside table, you stared at the “gifts” left for you.

Someone had left, or purposely placed a dildo in the bottom drawer, right on top of a magazine of “Country Side Hunks” the front page already showing two cowboys mid fuck. You quickly kicked the drawer shut, hearing the hefty dildo roll around inside as you did.

Fuck these people.

Three virginities remaining.

You quickly learned your place in the house. Keep quiet and out of the way. Remy had no time for you, barely glancing at you as he went about his day, spending most of it outside or studying. Niki was somehow more reclusive than you, popping into existence as if out of thin air sometimes. The only friendly face was-

“Hey, pretty boy.” Wren grinned over at you, approaching on one of the mares he was supposed to be breaking in.

“Hi.” You replied wearily, already having faced so much of his flirting at every turn.

Wren was older than Remy, Niki, and you, but much younger than every other farmhand that ran around the estate. No one seemed to know why he was here, but he was useful so they assumed that was why he was kept around.

“You looking even poutier today.” Wren tucked a cigarette between his fingers, patting his pockets for a lighter. “Which is cute, but usually means that you’re sad. Which you gotta knock off, I always get my hopes up and think it means you tryna signal me down to tease those pretty lips.”

“I miss my friends, Wren.” You ignored his flirting and tugging out grass from where you sat.

“They seemed like tits.”

You blinked up at him, his lean chest leaning against the neck of his mare, his cheek squished against her head as she snorted in confusion.

“I mean, y’know, the big boss ain’t gonna marry no one without looking into people, so, yeah, I got to play stalker with you a bit.”

Fury mounted in you again, already sick and tired of this stupid posh family’s antics, pretending to be better than you and trying to fuck with your life like this. You scrambled to your feet and stomped off, planning on rounding around the manor to the highway and hiking your way back if needed be.

“Hey, now, I can make it up to you! How about a drink, huh, baby boy?”

“Fuck off!” You snapped as you rounded a corner and smacked into a solid chest.

Remy blinked down at you, lips already curling.

“Wren, don’t you have to be at the stables?”

The boy in question grinned and turned his mare, clicking his tongue to speed her on. You tried to dart around Remy but he grabbed your elbow, dragging you close enough for his lips to press against your ear.

“You aren’t special. Wren’s like that with everyone. Mind yourself.” He hissed before shoving you off, stomping off, the back of his neck flushed red.

Sadly, you didn’t even make it off the property, your mother pulling into the driveway with her shiny new car, her and your stepfather climbing out. His eyes dragged over you, inscrutable as you awkwardly were pulled into a hug, your mother apparently overjoyed you were finally exploring your new home.

Dinner was a frigid affair. Niki, as per, wasn’t there. Remy stabbed at his food, glaring at you across the table and your mother nattered on to the air as your stepfather sipped his drink. There was a foot pressed against your ankle and it was distracting you, slowly rubbing at the exposed skin. Worst of all, you didn’t know who it was.

It was hard getting to sleep that night. It was hard most nights, too used to the noises of the town, cars passing by and people shouting back and forth, the hum of life. This was truly just… Where people spent a few weeks before returning to town. You can’t believe people willingly stayed out here.

Your throat itched too. You couldn’t blame that on the countryside, but damn, you will find a way. Tossing your covers to the side, you slid out of bed. Using your phone as a light, you slowly made your way down the hall, too busy trying to not make a noise that you didn’t realise the sounds that already were drifting down the hall.

Remy’s door was open enough for a slit of light to shine out into the hall, along with two sets of voices moaning and whispering to each other. Stomach twisting, your feet carried you closer despite really not wishing to see what was happening at all. You glanced into his room, freezing at the sight inside.

Rumpled covers barely hid the two bodies hungrily grinding against each other, sweating and naked. Wren above Remy, groaning into his neck as his cock rutted into him, gripping his hips so hard even you could see the bruises already forming. Remy, naked except his gloves and boots, gripped his lover’s hair tightly, panting as his own cock lay leaking on his stomach, drooling thickly. You watched for only a few seconds, stunned by what you were seeing, but Remy’s eyes opened as he lay his head back against the covers, spotting you.

You expected to be yelled at, called a pervert, but he grinned widely, snide and smug as he urged Wren deeper inside of him. You backed up, forgetting about your thirst as you fled back to your room, ears burning. Ignoring your interested cock, you buried yourself under the covers, wanting nothing but to have the bed swallow you whole.

Sadly, it didn’t. Ever sadder, Remy was the one to wake you up, grabbing your nose as you slept and smirking as you struggled to breath, bolting upright.

“Hello, creeper.” He smirked. “Father needs you to stay clear of the house this morning. Can’t have his important meetings ruined with the little pervert he took in.”

You couldn’t even respond. He smirked and got up from your bed, only looking back to shoot a nasty grin at you before shutting your door. You were so sick of this place already, from the first day hostilities, to the weird mind games, to the goddamn fact your clothes were disappearing. You had a feeling that Remy was feeding them to the cows or something, running low on everything, from underwear to jumpers.

Spending the morning outside, you mainly sat against one of the trees on the edge of the property, watching the farmhands work, a few of them even waving at you. Even when your watch showed that it was lunch, even when it ticked into the early evening, twilight settling, you stayed outside. You just.. Didn’t want to look at anyone in that place anymore. You were sure you had grass stains on the ass of your jeans, bark clinking to your jumper, but it was so much nicer than being ignored by Niki and harassed by Remy.

“Hey, pretty boy.” A familiar voice called out, Wren hurrying over with glee. “How long you been out here, I’d have ditched-”

“Don’t call me that.” You said flatly.

Wren paused and tilted his head, quizzical eyes fixed on you. He scuffed his shoe against some of the fallen leaves before stepping closer.

“Why so bratty today, babe?” He tried to maintain his easygoing grin but it was already faltering.

The longer you went without replying, quietly tearing up the yellowing leaves, the more Wren’s face fell before he quietly sat down next to you.

“I, uh… Should have guessed something was up. Remy doesn’t like me coming into the house usually and last night he was really-”

“Just shut up, Wren.”

He did, to his merit. Though, by his own pout, you didn’t spare his feelings one bit.

“Y’know, porn shows two cute step brothers fighting over a third in a more fun, sexy way. Last time I ever trust the hub.”

You snorted softly and Wren took that as a positive, scooting closer to you. He watched you shred some leaves before picking up his own, twirling it between his lean fingers.

“Look… How about a drink to make it up to you? ‘N no nicknames or flirting, I promise.”

You glanced at the house, the rooms slowly lighting up as evening set in, dinner probably being prepared. Glancing at your room, the curtain twitched sharply and swung back into place, as if someone was holding it back to peer out. Your stomach flipped. Maybe it was okay if your plate was also left alone, just like Niki’s.

“Okay.” You finally say and Wren grins, grabbing your forearm to haul you up.

Wren lived just at the edge of the property, in a pretty cottage he shared with a few others. Luckily, he dodged their invites to a game, just grabbing two glasses and a bottle of questionable substance. His room wasn’t fully decorated, some cardboard boxes still holding some stuff, with one of the walls being the only one with any posters or pictures.

“Charming.” You glanced around and Wren snickered, yanking a small round table out of the corner and pulling up to two chairs to it.

“I always only half unpack my shit when I move.I’m more used to living out of a suitcase, y’know?”

You could relate to a small degree and you sat down, gently knocking his knee with yours as you did.

The mistakes started when the drinks started flowing. Wren refused to let there be a gap in conversation, making sure your glass was never empty and you didn’t stop laughing or chatting away. You two pressed closer, your head swimming slightly. Ignoring your phone buzzing in your pocket, against your thigh, you leaned against his shoulder, still unused to the alcohol making the world a bit more bearable at the moment.

“You’re so cute.” Wren chuckled, pressing a kiss to your head. “Townies have no tolerance, I swear.”

“Fuck off.” You hiccuped, smiling against his shirt.

His fingers trailed over your back as he slowly breathed in the smell of your shampoo.

“Not kidding.” His voice dropped to a murmur. “You’re so fucking cute. Make me act all stupid n’ shit.”

“Wreeeen.” You complained, sitting up a bit. “No flirting, you promised.”

“I ain’t flirting.” Wren pulled you closer again, nosing against your temple. “I’m stating a fact. Got me acting up over some townie. God, I’m so jealous your friends got a taste of you first.”

“Huh?” You blinked at him turning your head so you two were practically nose to nose.

He racked his eyes over your face greedily, his fingers finally getting to the curve of your back, slipping under to stroke the bare skin.

“Your friends ain’t ever had you spread your legs for ‘em? Better friend than I would have been. I’d have fucked the shape of my cock into you so you wouldn’t want no one else.”

His heated words made you dizzier, blood rushing from your already drunken brain to your cock, slowly hardening.

“So, what have you done? Fucked? Been fucked? Sucked a few dicks?” Wren probed, leaning in so his lips barely brushed yours.

You could only slowly shake your head, feeling flushed from the lack of blood in your brain, and all of it making your cock ache between your thighs.

“Nothing?”

“I’m… A virgin.” You mumbled, stuttering off into a whine as Wren groaned and pushed his lips against yours, yanking you into his lap.

“Oh, you’re a fucking gift.”

Wren’s intent was clear, hungrily licking into your mouth as he yanked your belt off, his other hand shoving down your trousers and underwear at once. He took your cock in hand immediately, running his thumb over the head as his breathing grew heavier. He broke the kiss, swearing softly under his breath as he made a loose fist around your erection, giving it only a few, light tugs.

“Fuck. Hung as hell, aren’t you?”

You hadn’t even fucking thought of yourself like that, quickly hiding your face behind your hands in embarrassment. Wren snickered and tucked his knees in between yours, yanking your legs apart to properly display yourself. Your cock was already leaking, bobbing against your jumper, leaving dots of glinting precum on the fabric, glistening in the intimate lighting.

“If you’re so embarrassed about your pretty cock, I’ll just distract you, doll.” Wren whispered, leaning back in his chair to dig into a drawer before leaning back, hand pressed protectively against your stomach.

Tugging the cap off the lube with his teeth, he greedily poured it over his fingers before wrapping his arms back around you, oiled up fingers just stroking along your rim, not even nudging against it, just trailing his fingertips over you.

“Have you at least played with yourself, with the dildo I left for you?” Wren whispered, enjoying how you twitched in his embrace, your eyes fixed on his fingers.

“That… That was you?”

“Yeah, baby. Knew I wanted a piece of that ass when I first checked you out. Thought it was best you got the idea what you were gonna be doing with most of your time here right off the bat.”

You hiccuped as he applied a bit more pressure to your poor, teased hole.

“W-... What am I going to be doing?”

“Getting fucked, sweetheart.” Wren nipped your ear as he sunk a single finger into you, quietly delighted by the way you shook and bucked your hips. “Relax your body, don’t be so tense. I can’t get you addicted to cumming with just your ass if the rest of your body is as tight as your hole.”

“Wren…” You whined out as his finger reached deeper inside of you, hungrily curling as you twitched.

“Don’t.” He warned, teasing your earlobe between his teeth. “Don’t say my name like that, or I’ll just split you open on my cock right now. I ain’t the saint you’re looking for in this place.”

“At least,” He murmurs, in an afterthought. “I’m the only one upfront about wanting to fuck you.”

You didn’t catch his soft whispers as he finally added another finger, making you arch your back and moan even louder, legs shaking against his. He made another sharp hiss as you tried to take ahold of your leaking cock, needing some sort of gratification as he ruined your poor ass, stretching you out.

“You’re going to cum with your ass, or not at all.” Wren tutted, adding yet another finger and curling them cruelly, brushing your prostate and making you whimper, cock throbbing. “I want to fucking ruin you. I want to be the one who makes your fat cock useless. It’s too big for girls, ain’t it? Hurt them when you try to put it in. I don’t want you thinking with it anymore. Cum from your ass being fucked only. No need to even think about this drooling monster, eh?”

He lifted his hand off your stomach for a moment, just to squeeze your cockhead, greedily watching as precum dribbled out.

“Fat, useless thing.” He wiped off the liquid from his fingers onto your stomach before resuming his firm press against it, dropping a kiss to your neck. “Hurts cute pussies, you wouldn’t wanna ruin ‘em, do ya?”

“N-No.” You gasped, Wren finally fitting in the fourth finger, trying to push them all in to the knuckle inside of you.

“Too small for you anyway. No, you’re only going to want your ass played with from now on, yeah?” You couldn’t notice Wren’s tone getting possessive, dark. For the first time since that evening began, his thoughts strayed to his frequent bed companion, and for the first time ever, did he feel a rush of annoyance at the brunette. “Use your cock, and I’ll fucking punish you. Lock it up, ruin your ass, make you cry. I don’t wanna do that, baby boy, so you fucking listen to me, yeah?”

“Please, please, Wren.” You whimpered, spreading your legs further apart to let him curl his fingers deeper.

“Not until you promise.” He hissed, good humour gone as Remy’s betrayal made him angrier and angrier. Wren prides himself on being easy going, but his baby boy spurning him and looking so angry at him earlier? Fuck that. “Any cockwhores drool over you, beg for you to fuck them, you tell them no. Tell them you were trained proper, with an ass that can cum from fat cocks ruining it. Got it?”

“Yes! Yes, please, Wren, fuck me!” You finally burst out, mindless babbling getting louder, but you didn’t care.

He sighed happily before gripping your neck and pressing a strangely gentle kiss to your lips, tongue slowly pressing against yours with reverence. Too soon, he was pulling away, making you lift your hips a bit so he could free his own leaking cock, springing free and papping wetly against your ass.

Grabbing for the lube, he quickly squirted some into his palm, oiling up his cock thickly before tossing it to the side, gripping your hips firmly.

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby, just how you need it.” He promised, turning your head once more for one final kiss before pressing his cockhead against your swollen rim, puffy from all the teasing.

“Please.” You could only plead, breathless and lust clouding your brain. “Please, Wren.”

That’s all he ever needed from you. Gripping your hips tighter, already etching bruises into the skin with his strength, he slowly pushed them down, his cockhead snagging on your prepared hole before slowly slipping inside.

“Oh god… Oh… Oh fuck…” You whispered, never feeling so full in your life before.

“No god here, baby, use my name.” Wren shakily chuckled, never ceasing to push your hips down to take more of him.

You both groaned as he finally bottomed out, swollen balls throbbing against your skin, his cock leaking precum inside you already. He was too impatient to let you adjust, immediately beginning to bounce you on his cock. You were helpless to his ministrations, only being able to hang onto his side as he ruined you. Your voice got louder and louder, moaning breathlessly, but Wren was no better, swearing as he practically moved your body for you, bouncing your ass against his cock but also gripping your hips to move you back down as well.

“God, fucking… Dammit. How will I ever fucking get anything done ever again? I’m going to leash you to my boots, have you ready to take my cock whenever I need it.”

You couldn’t even form sentences, tears beading your lashes as your virgin hole was ruined, stretched out. You could only babble helplessly, cock already spurting out precum with every brush of his cockhead against your prostate. Wren gave a breathless laugh when he noticed your cries of pleasure, pressing the flat of his tongue against your cheek to catch the salty liquid.

“Fuck me, you’re tasty in every single way. Cum from only my cock and I’ll eat the cum out of your ass later, wouldn’t you like that, baby boy?”

“Uh huh.” You weakly agreed, gripping his fingers as he used you for his own pleasure.

It was embarrassing, but you could feel yourself beginning to cum. Your virgin hole had never been violated this way, your cock, your fat, useless cock, already reaching its end as Wren whispered profanities into your ear, about having you in his bed every night, telling your mom he’s your little boyfriend while cum drips down your thighs. Introducing him to your stupid friends, knowing he’s stolen what they wanted all along, maybe fucking you in front of them.

He was mesmerised as you finally came all over your exposed stomach, jumper having been pushed up to your nipples from Wren’s pawing. The thick, white liquid dripped down your sides, spattering on his floor but he didn’t care, in fact, he felt his balls tighten all too soon. Nothing like a virgin having their first orgasm that makes a seasoned whore cum too quickly themselves.

He slammed your hips down, making sure to cum inside you as deep as possible, his own chest exhaling shakily against your back.

“What a good boy.” Wren murmured, drunk off your body, his orgasm blinding his own thoughts momentarily. “My good boy.”

You weakly nodded, legs giving out and leaning all of your weight on him, safe in his muscular arms.

“We’re not done yet, I gotta warn you.”

You just chuckled weakly, lightly smacking him with your hand and Wren just kissed your neck, pulling you closer.

Outside, Niki was sprinting for the house.

His camera pressed to his chest protectively, struggling to run with his throbbing hard on but still managing to remain unnoticed by the farmhands clocking out. His cheeks were blushing, to such an extent he looked feverish. As he quickly climbed the steps to the main house, excitement built in his stomach, for when he returned to his red room, to develop his treasures.

But sadly, Niki himself rounded a corner and smacked into a solid chest. He had less balance than you did and fell on his ass, his camera clattering next to him.

“Fucking watch where you’re going, stalker.” Remy snapped at him, sneering down at his downed brother.

“Sorry.” Niki said carelessly, lunging for his camera only to have a boot slam down on his hand.

“What have you been doing now?” Remy smirked, leaning down to pick up the camera and turn it on.

“Nothing! Don’t touch my stuff, or I’ll tell dad-”

“Father would be more interested in your sick little red room, and your weird thing for his new whore’s brat.” Remy swung his leg and kicked his stomach, letting Niki splutter and curl in on himself.

Remy smirked at his pathetic younger brother before letting his eyes flick to the small previews on the camera screen. As per, lots of simple shots of you sitting alone, or looking gloomy. He rolled his eyes, flicking through each one before reaching the videos, pressing play as he hoped to find something embarrassing.

“Don’t-” Niki warned but it was too late.

Filmed from Wren’s window, the same one the farm boy would lean out of and murmur for Remy to climb in just a few nights ago, showed him playing with your ass, kissing you. His hands shook as he turned up the volume, your whines and Wren’s filthy, disgusting, perverted, loving words filled the echoing hallway.

His eyes drifted down, fixed on the way Wren handled your cock, struggling to close his entire fist around you. The precum dribbling. The way you thrust your hips uselessly.

Remy dropped the camera to the floor and smashed his boot down on top of it, not caring how Niki protested, kicking at him to get his foot off of his prized possession.

No, he didn’t care. He turned on his heel and walked off, gloved fingers curling tight enough for the leather to hurt, as Niki hopelessly sorted through the ruined remains of his camera, plucking the memory card up and holding it against his chest like a lifeline.

Kofi

Masterlist

AO3

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jaybleu25 · 10 months

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Part 4 of: Experiments

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After Mario asked the question, Professor E. Gadd said he was more then happy to let the brothers leave. However, there was an important question he had to ask before they even attempted it. "Can you stand, Luigi?" Surprisingly to both the professor and Mario, he could indeed stand. However, it took a few moments for him to do so. Almost a minute to be exact. The process of getting up was challenging; it felt as if there was a heavy weight placed on him keeping him down. However, the moment his feet properly touched the floor, he felt slightly better. It wasn't as painful. The only downside to it was that he felt slightly lightheaded. He still felt exhausted from the machine. Once the brothers got the okay from E. Gadd, Mario helped his brother walk their way through the lab to the exit. Unfortunately, for the green plumber, his sense of balance was way off. It was hard for him to walk in a straight line, but Mario helped him through it. A few times during their walk, Luigi had to take a break since he started to feel dizzy, but Mario stayed by his side no matter what. He was patient. "The exit's not that far," reassured Mario. "We're almost there." Soon enough, after a little while (it took them almost 30 minutes to get to the exit, as opposed to it normally taking 5-10 minutes), the brothers both managed to make it to the exit. However, after opening the door and looking at the outside world, they soon realized another problem: they still needed to walk home. Luigi gave a slight groan upon realizing this fact, but Mario started to try and think of an idea. Eventually, he would get one. Mario kneeled down. "Come on bro," said the older brother. "You sure..?" timidly asked Luigi. "Yeah, it's no biggie, we've done it before," responded Mario with a smile. Luigi would then climb onto Mario's back and would get on his shoulders, and Mario would stand back up. Despite the obvious height difference between the two of them, Mario had no issue with carrying Luigi. It got a little harder to do as they got older, but with the many adventures Mario has gone on, he got stronger, which made something like this a piece of cake. By the time they got outside, the sun was just rising. A few citizens of the kingdom were awake already, but not many. During their walk back home, Mario made sure not to go too fast to make Luigi dizzy again. He went at a comfortable pace. While enjoying the scenery the kingdom had to offer, Luigi had a question pop in his mind. "How's the princess doing?" asked Luigi. His voice has been slowly getting better. "The princess?" said Mario. "I don't know...I haven't seen her in a little while." "Really?" responded the curious brother innocently. "You visit her a lot, I'm surprised." "I haven't really left the lab until now," answered Mario. "Maybe we can go visit." Luigi would be taking that information in. "Wait...what do you mean you didn't leave?" asked Luigi as concern started to slowly rise. "You said I was out for three days right..?" By this point, Mario stopped walking. The brothers were now next to a small pond. "I didn't want to leave you there on your own," confirmed Mario. "I couldn't just leave you there. What if you woke up, and nobody was there?" Luigi looked down at his brother with a sad look on his face. He didn't want to be the reason for Mario stopping his normal activities. Even worse, he hadn't gone out and talked to anyone. Mario could sense something was wrong. "Don't worry about me, alright?" reassured Mario as he looked up at his brother. "Let's just focus on getting you home safe." "Okay..." said Luigi sadly. "But we can go visit her right?" "Yeah, we can do that," Mario responded as he smiled at Luigi. "One thing at a time though, bro. You still need rest." After discussing their future plans and catching up with each other a little, Mario then continued to walk while carrying his little brother.

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Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/jaywiriamusu/720501148836134912/experiments-wip-ive-never-really-posted Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/jaywiriamusu/720574933093236736/part-2-of-experiments Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/jaywiriamusu/720650757219696640/part-3-of-experiments

#mario #luigi #tw injury #angst #e gadd #super mario

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edith-hyde · 9 months

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Finally Watching The Teen Wolf Movie

I finally got access to Paramount+ and while I've been using it to watch Star Trek, I thought it was high time I tried to watch the Teen Wolf Movie.

Now I already know the ending and I already know who the bad guy is.

I am only 20 minutes in and I just... 4 people wrote this together and it still ended up this BAD? I thought when I saw people saying it was bad, that they were just overexaggerating. Nope. I already have SO MANY questions.

Why would Scott leave his pack?? That never made sense in the show and it still doesn't make sense in the movie. You're the Alpha bro. Act like it.

Why in the world does Liam have the nogitsune box?? He wasn't even there for that Arc!! Isaac was the one who had it last along with Chris. Why would they ever give it to Liam?? I guess if they thought he was the last place anyone would look but... idk. It's just weird.

Speaking of Liam, I have nothing against him being with Hikari. That's fine and dandy. They seem super cute. But... who... who were the guys with guns???? Is Liam a part of a gang? Are they his new pack? I have hopes this will get answered later in the movie, but knowing Teen Wolf... it probably won't.

I know we all are wondering who Eli's mom is. And it's like the writers aren't even trying to be logical with it. Allison died 15 years ago. Eli is 15. That means Derek had to have him with someone during season 3. But the only person he was with during that time was the crazy Druid lady, Jennifer. Are we supposed to believe she's the mom?? That doesn't even make any sense because she died just a few days after sleeping with Derek. My Conclusion: Eli is the Dawn of Teen Wolf. If you've watched Buffy, then you know what I am talking about. He has literally materialized out of nowhere and the memories of the characters were altered to make them think he had been there all along. The is the most logical explanation for his existence.

"Why is Jackson here?" is the summary of how I feel about this movie so far. It's like the writers totally forgot how AWFUL Jackson was when he was on the show. It was bad enough when they brought him back for no reason for the final season. This is even worse. He's not even really Jackson. It's like he went off to London and magically became Sherlock Holmes. Jackson was NOT that smart. EVER.

Scott saved the dog before saving the little girl. Wow.

They try to add cussing to be like "Yeah! We'Re A gRoWn Up sHow NoW!" But the dialogue is still cheesy as heck. Don't get me wrong, I love cheese, but this is just.... it's spoiled cheese. Also, JR seems like he just wanted to see how many F words he could get away with.

Oh so Chris just so happens to know some kind of ritual for this exact situation? And he's just bringing this up now?? The whole conversation between Scott, Chris, and Deacon is so clunky it hurts. (EDIT: okay so I thought Chris was acting funky. It's the fox. Alright. That's fine.)

Surprisingly, I am not that upset about Scott still pining after Allison. He's a wolf. Wolves mate for life. Plus it tracks for him. He's always been like that.

Lydia... I love you honey but what was that whole thing with rubbing down Scott's arm and holding his hand? Was that supposed to be a comforting gesture?? It was way too flirtatious.

Peter hasn't even shown up yet and he's the only reason I will keep watching.

#teen wolf #teen wolf movie #peter hale #scott mccall

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transboysokka · 10 months

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Don't hate me but “we’re not good for each other.” “why not?” for a Zutara breakup asdfhsdh (I know you mentioned you headcanon they tried dating pre-Zukka and it was toxic and I really need this now)

HAHAHAHAHAHA ooooooh boy okay here goes!!!

From Enemies to Lovers prompts || Send more!

"We're not good for each other."

Katara and Zuko were fighting- again. It had been happening more often lately and while those words from Katara were starting to ring truer to Zuko than they might have a couple of weeks ago, he still didn't like to hear them. Or what they implied. The easiest thing to do was just pretend he didn't hear them.

"We're... what?" he asked stupidly, momentum immediately taken out of their argument. Katara didn't seem to have expected that as a response either, as her posture relaxed and her narrowed eyes widened slightly. She realized that she had to keep going with this line of conversation, even if it wasn't so pleasant.

Zuko realized it too, silently sitting on the bed and inviting Katara to sit beside him.

She didn't move from her position across the room, but did sit back onto the windowsill with a sigh.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Zuko, we're practically the exact same person!" Katara played with her hair nervously, but maintained eye contact.

"That can be a good thing..." Zuko tried, one last attempt to end the conversation before it got too far. But the truth was, the conversation was over the minute their most recent fight had started.

It hurt to admit. The love he'd had for Katara had burned bright... but it had burned fast.

"So when we both get so mad at each other we want to start throwing things, that's a good thing?" Katara's voice was louder again- she was more sure of herself, had also committed to the outcome of this discussion.

"No, but-" But yes. Zuko knew their fights were dumb. They usually started over nothing at all, an excuse for one or both of them to release the emotion they had been dealing with alone internally. And they always got way too personal. This wasn't love- not what it was meant to be...

"Remember the Southern Raiders? A couple is supposed to help each other listen to the voice of reason, but we just piggyback off of each other's ideas until someone's dead!"

"Yeah, but-" But yes. That was the biggest problem with them, right there. They both had so much pain that they hadn't properly dealt with, so many issues, and they couldn't help each other with them- only make them worse until they were encouraging each other to commit murder- it had happened a couple times...

"I know we have crazy amazing chemistry, but we can't even communicate-"

"Katara, stop!" Zuko flinched at his own words, once again proving himself right. They couldn't communicate. Obviously. He'd just interrupted her.

But also...

But he...

"What?!" She crossed her arms, like she was daring Zuko to try to save this situation.

But he...

Zuko sighed.

"I was going to say... You're right. ...Yeah, we're not good for each other. We need to break up."

And also...

"Oh. Why not? Why?"

What was he, an idiot?

Yes, clearly.

He needed to tell Katara the most important reason they couldn't be together- it was only fair to her, especially after the things he'd already put her through. He'd only just fully realized it himself. But this was not the time or place to tell her that.

"I was just going to say... but it doesn't matter. It would only hurt you to know..." Agni, he was so stupid!

"Probably! But you already brought it up, so let's hear it!"

The tension and anger was returning to the conversation- at least to Katara's half, and Zuko couldn't blame her. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, caught in it now. Here goes...

"I was going to say... I'm... gay." Zuko closed his eyes and grimaced, too weak and embarrassed to look Katara in the eye after his confession.

"What." Katara's tone was flat, and Zuko decided he liked this a lot less than if he could tell she was angry.

By all the spirits above and below, Zuko could not have done this in a worse way...

He snapped his eyes open, looking for an out.

"Not that it's because of you! I just realized... when I was with... you..."

"Wow, thanks a lot."

Zuko groaned and put his head in his hands, letting the conversation die down for as long as it took him to get a grip again.

Calming breaths. In and out.

When he looked back up, Katara looked hurt. He didn't say anything. He deserved this.

"I'm starting to understand now what happened with Mai..." she said quietly, eyes leaving Zuko for the first time as she looked down at her lap.

Ouch. He deserved that too.

"Katara..." Zuko said weakly.

She didn't respond.

"Katara," he tried again, "I'm sorry. I... You don't deserve this. And I did- I do love you, so much. It's just... not the right kind of love. And you're right, things weren't right between me and Mai, but I didn't fully understand then that it was because of me... And me figuring it out has nothing to do with you, or what we couldn't do... It just... happened to happen, when we were together... I do love you Katara..."

Katara looked back up to meet his eyes again, eyes wet with tears. Zuko realized his were too.

"I'm not going to pretend I'm not mad at you, Zuko. Or that it doesn't hurt. But I love you too and I don't want us to stop being friends in whatever weird way we make work... You're right, it just wasn't the right kind of love between us..."

They sat silently for a bit longer, neither of them wanting this to officially end. Zuko knew that neither of them had started their day planning to break up today.

"Maybe... maybe you could try things with Aang again..." It took all of Zuko's energy not to smack his palm into his forehead. Did he really just say that? Of all the dumb, useless-

But Katara just raised an eyebrow and nodded, standing and crossing to Zuko's position on the bed.

"All things considered, Zuko... I'm proud of you for finally realizing who you are..."

They hugged and cried some more, and then it really was over for good.

#quesTian #atla #zukka #im not going to tag this as zutara bc i dont want the shippers to be mad at me?#drabble #text

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ur-frndly-neighborhood-memer1 · 1 year

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Alicent Hightower: Villain or Victim?

(part 1)

While we're all waiting for season 2, I thought an essay about Alicent Hightower would be nice to understand her character and her motives better. Is she really a villain or a victim? Let's analyze!

Before I start analyzing, I wanna start with asking a question: what is character development?

If we go by the definition, it's "In literature, character development is the craft of giving a character a personality, depth, and motivations that propel them through a story. Character development is also defined as how a character evolves throughout the course of a story."

The point of a character development isn't about making the character a better person. It can be though; such as what we've seen with Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender, and of course with Jaime Lannister from Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire... These are the characters who eventually became better people and actually put an effort to redeem themselves.

Yet, there are also characters who started off bad but only became worse in the process instead of being good. Zuko's sister Azula, or Jaime's sister Cersei are good examples for this. They didn't get any better as the series continued. Just the opposite, they were bad and they only became worse. Which is a good thing, at least for me, because I don't think all villains should be redeemed. They're not any better than their irredeemably megalomaniac and tyrannical fathers after all. And speaking of the fathers, Ozai and Tywin are also good examples for this character archetype.

However, there's another character archetype... Not only the characters who became good from bad, or went from bad to worse, but also characters who were good but eventually ended up being bad... Yes, I'm talking about Alicent Hightower.

I know many people in fandom, especially Black supporters collectively hate Alicent. And I understand this hatred. After all, she made her son usurp Rhaenyra's throne even though she was the King's true heir... And yes, Alicent is definitely a villain in the book. She comes across as a pretty Cersei-ish bad guy. Vain, cold, self-centered, manipulative, hostile... It's easy to imagine her like Cersei Lannister. Which is why many fans often compare her to Cersei.

However, Alicent in the show is a very different song. The showrunners clearly intended to make her more sympathetic and relatable to the audience. Because Alicent doesn't start off villainous. Just the opposite; we see a courteous, understanding but also overly anxious and shy teenage girl. She literally picks her fingernails and make them bleed whenever she's uneasy or stressed. Do I even need to explain how sad this is? She was tearing apart her fingernails during the tourney, and Rhaenyra had to stop her friend from hurting herself... And that's just sad.

(Couldn't find the exact image, but them holding hands is still cute)

When the series starts, we don't see an ambitious Alicent who is actively scheming to become the Queen. In fact, she didn't have any personal ambitions of her own but was only used by her father Otto as a pawn.

Because even if some people disagrees with me, I never believed Alicent was trying to seduce the King in the first place. We've seen that she was only doing what her father was telling her to do. And at this point, she had no power to object to him, she wasn't Queen at this point. But yes, Alicent was indeed being close and "friendly" towards Viserys. However, I wouldn't say she was trying to manipulate him at all. I think she was being empathetic. Because she also lost her mother at such a young age, and she was alone with no one there to comfort her and allow her too feel the agony. As she said, everyone told her to move on. So, Alicent knows better now. She knows this is not how you should treat people who just lost someone they loved. And she knows Viserys is feeling lonely. And she genuinely wants to make him feel better. Not because she really wants to seduce him though. She is trying to help him, because she is an empathetic person, just like when she comforted and helped Rhaenyra.

So far, Alicent isn't a power-hungry b!tch who is plotting to steal the throne. But just a teenage girl who has no choice but obey her father's commands. Yes, she actually ended up marrying Viserys, much to Rhaenyra's shock and disappointment. And she technically betrayed her best friend. But again, I wouldn't say it's Alicent that we should blame here. It was Viserys who didn't tell his daughter about his marriage plan. He should have informed Rhaenyra about the whole thing, and he should have done it in privacy, not announcing it in front of a public.

Even Tywin Lannister was informing his children about his marriage plans before announcing it. Because things need to go accordingly. That's how you set up political marriages. Yes, Cersei and Tyrion hated it, but they weren't taken by surprise at least.

But Viserys really took Rhaenyra by surprise there in front of the whole council, which wasn't professional at all.

But this is where most of the fandom started to hate Alicent even more. Because they say Alicent was so blind with her ambitions that she didn't hesitate to betray her best friend. But that's not even true. Yes, Alicent shouldn't have been visiting Viserys, and even if she was, she should have told Rhaenyra about this marriage. But as I said, she didn't have much choices due to her father's orders and King's wishes. If you want to blame anyone, then blame Otto for using his daughter like a sex object instead of treating her like a human-being. And let's not forget, it was totally Otto who literally said "Go and sleep with your bff's dad after he lost his wife. Oh, and make sure you wear your dead mom's dress too!" So yeah, we all know who is actually the guilty one here...

But let's not forget, even after marrying Viserys and getting pregnant with Aegon, Alicent still made attempts to keep her friendship with Rhaenyra. She genuinely cared about Rhaenyra and valued their friendship. So, she isn't a heartless b!tch that some people in fandom are trying to make her.

And even after Aegon's birth, Alicent still had no personal intention to make him the King. Let's take a look at her interaction with Otto about this topic:

Instead of directly saying she wants her son to be King, Alicent replies that "What mother wouldn't?" Again, it's not her personal wish. But in that political system, mothers/fathers would want their sons to be Kings. Remember when Catelyn wanted Sansa to be Queen? Or how proud she was when Northerns followed Robb as their leader? Or how eager Cersei was to crown Joffrey? Or Mace Tyrell repeatedly trying to set up marriages for Margaery to make her the Queen? Anyone with political ambitions would want to make their child a King/Queen.

But Alicent had no such interest. Because she really loved Rhaenyra and was supporting her right. Also, she saw the heavy burden of being a King. She is living with Viserys, she sees all its conflicts and struggles, she sees how the pressure of the throne slowly destroys him. She wouldn't want her own child to go through what her husband was. So, the answer of this "What mother wouldn't?" question should be no mother who knows what it's like. But then, why does she want it for Rhaenyra? Mainly because she wants to keep her own son away from bearing this burden. And also because she really thinks Rhaenyra is strong enough to deal with it. As she told Otto, Rhaenyra would be a good Queen.

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I don't want to make this post any longer. So I will continue writing in part 2. If you agree or disagree with me, let me know it!

#alicent hightower #hotd #aegon the second #aegon ii #Aegon Targaryen #Viserys Targaryen #Rhaenyra Targaryen #otto hightower #house of the dragon #character analysis #Alicent #team black #team green

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