#how much does that really matter though. what does it change

[softsunnyy]

okay, let me talk about this because i'm a horny ball with access to tiktok, and i need to talk about whatever's on my mind, starting with what it's like to kiss Lando baby

my sweet boy might react with a huge smile, giggling, and attacking your face with more kisses; clinging so tightly to your body that you know there's no turning back. You'll have to hold him in your arms until he has to move. But it's not really something that bothers you; he's just sweet, adorable, and you'd give anything to see him smile like that more times throughout the day.

now... there's also another option... when his kiss is slow, deep, with one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist, taking over that space as if it belongs there, touching your skin under your shirt, while he reconnects his lips to yours; this time with more desperation.

and the room echoes with kisses; one after another, while he enjoys and takes full advantage of his privileges as your boyfriend; with his hands running over your body, which he knows by heart.

then he moves down your neck, and you know it's dangerous, that things could get out of control, but you can't say no, not when his gaze melts you, makes you feel small, ready, at his complete disposal.

and if you're on his lap? you better start moving. You'll draw those sweet grunts and gasps from him, with his lips close to your ear, making you listen closely, sending a rush of heat to your pussy, which quickly began to throb.

and you roll your hips, feeling how he reacts for you, while his mouth takes care of biting and marking your neck, as if it were nothing, as if it wouldn't cause you problems later. He was just enjoying too much how your skin is changing color because of him, igniting something inside him that is more primitive, wild, feral, but that you don't dislike at all.

this possible reaction from Lando only leads to an entertaining moment, where you don't need to go fast, since we know he can go slow, hard, and still have you falling apart on his sheets, breaking into a thousand pieces while you whimper his name over and over like a broken record; with your hands fisted on the bed and your cheeks stained with tears from the pleasure that only he knows how to provoke in you.

and even though his gaze changes, and his touch becomes more possessive, when you finish, he's back to being your sweet boyfriend, with a tired, yet boyish, proud, completely annoying smile, and with his hands bringing you closer to his body, while he leaves kisses all over you again, unable to detach himself for a second.

he's obsessed with you, and he just loves you too much, and i can 100% see how a simple kiss from you could have him reacting in either of those two ways, like his call to stick to you.

but that doesn't matter to you, does it? because he's your sweet boy. You'd do anything to see him so happy and excited, especially after the stress of every race and every decision.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Shikamaru accidentally becomes the second coming of Jiraiya via anonymously publishing BL novels with Sakura and Ino as his managers and editors

HEAR ME OUT. HEAR ME OUT.

Ok so, Shikamaru's grandfather passes away (aka my oc Shikasada, for those in the know) and among his things is a very old diary dating back to Konoha's founding. Shikamaru opens it to fund uhh. Many things. Many things he could have gone without knowing. Mostly revolving around his grandpa's apparent years long slow burn affair w some Hatake boy.

Shikamaru, sort of horrified but in too deep to back out now, resolves to at least finish the diary-- and despite himself, besides some of the more painful to read sections, there really is a lot of really interesting information in the diary.

Which brings Shikamaru to being unable to set down the diary, and bringing it to the academy with him in the morning.

(Quick note, lets set this like two or three months before graduation, so Shikamaru is like, ~13 I think)

SO, SHIKAMARU IS IN CLASS AND READING HIS GRANDFATHERS DIARY IN THE BACK OF THE CLASS (his first mistake, tbh) And he doesnt notice as Ino and Sakura appear behind him and Ino starts reading over his shoulder. And Ino, proud fujo, after a minute of reading goes really loudly,

"is that YAOI???"

And now Shikamaru essentially has two options. Both of them a uniquely kind of terrible. Does he,

a) admit this is his grandfathers very gay, very sappy, very depressing, kind of steamy diary about how he cheated on his fiance with a Hatake boy and even briefly debated running away from his wedding to be with him instead (but ultimately didnt)

or, b) let his classmates think hes a fan of doomed yaoi romance novels.

He decides that option b at least doesnt invoke a possible scandle for his clan (which his mom would kill him for) and says its a book.

Sakura immediately points out the fact that its hand written.

On pure reflex, Shikamaru blurts, "I wrote it."

(Instant regret.)

So anyways Ino and Sakura (mostly Ino) bully Shikamaru into letting them read 'his' book. And they come back to him with it going "omg, this is amazing! It's just as good-- maybe even better than most of the things on the market right now!!!"

And Shikamaru is like, "great can I have it back please."

And they're like "Shikamaru, you cant just let this kind of masterpiece rot in your closet!!!! This is incredible!!!! Heart wrenching!!! Hair raising!!! Super dramatic and filled with tension and drama and history and 𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 !"

And Shikamaru, again, is like, "Great. Can I have it back please."

"Shikamaru, you don't understand. You have a gift."

"Can I please have it back now."

So. One thing leads to another and after much peer pressure (and maybe some light threats of blackmail because Ino and Sakura have totally realized that Shikamaru didn't actually write the diary, and it instead belonged to his grandfather. (Mostly because Ino had actually met the man before, and obviously recognized his name)) Shikamaru has now gained:

a) two very eager 13 year old publishing managers / editors

b) the contact information of Sakura's cousin, who coincidentally works at one of the biggest publishing houses in Fire counry.

c) somehow, some way, the obligation to edit and publish his grandfathers diary as a bl romance novel.

Shikamaru hates his fucking life.

SO. THEY PUBLISH IT AFTER SOME EDITING AND CHANGING OF CLAN NAMES AND ITS A WILD SUCCESS. SHIKAMARU IS KIND OF MAD AT HOW MUCH OF A WILD SUCCES IT IS.

(Though, laying in his bed of money that now rivals his father's personal funds as the Nara clan head, he can't bring himself to be... as mad as he might have otherwise been.)

(Sakura and Ino, also with their giant piles of money, are also very satisfied.)

But the satisfaction doesnt last for long bc soon the girls are scheming to get Shikamaru to write something new for them to publish.

"But I didn't write the diary to begin with!" Shikamaru argues.

"What does it matter?" Ino insists. "You still edited it, and it was your grandfather who wrote it! Some of the talent has to be there!"

(depressingly enough for Shikamaru, some of the talent does seem to be there.)

And thus begins Shikamaru's life of becoming a famous romance author with his (blackmailers) managers Ino and Sakura <3

(In the pure lands, Shikamaru's grandfather is screaming into a pillow as his Hatake boy in question laughs his ass off and insists this is exactly what he deserves after keeping them a secret for so long. Really, Shika, you should be proud for having such a resourceful grandson.)

So anyways, this brings me to the fact that Sakura's first ever encounter with her new sensei, Kakashi, would have gone WILDLY different on her end. Because she saw the original diary. She, unlike the general public, didn't get the edited version of the story with changed clan names.

So when her teacher walks into the room and introduces himself, her very first thought is omg like the yaoi.

And her first act is to start giggling maniacally in the corner of the room like a little freak. In Sakura we stan

Kakashi meanwhile has no fucking clue what kind of drugs that little girl is on, but finds that he probably doesn't want to know.

WHICH ALSO BRINGS ME TO THE FACT THAT LIKE. Theres something profoundly funny about known icha-icha lover Kakashi reading this novel and becoming a huge fan-- absolutey 100% unaware that it's about HIS direct cousin, only two generations back.

Shikamaru put way more effort into disguising the Nara clan's involvement in the book-- both because he cares more about the Nara and because he kinda uhh... was under the impression that the Hatake were all dead, like, for real. In the book, the Nara's clan name is changed, the character names are changed, their sacred animal is changed to a rabbit and their traditions are all altered-- but the Hatake clan just becomes the Hasake clan and is largely left alone bc Shikamaru is 13 and can't really be bothered to go the extra mile.

(Editing so much is such a bother, Ino. You just dont get it)

So like, Shikamaru has no idea who Kakashi is, he only learns he exists when Sakura fucking bodyslams into him and Ino screaming about how HER NEW TEACHER IS RELATED TO THAT GUY YOUR GRANDPA HAD NASTY GAY SEX WITH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"THE ONE LIKE IN THE DIARY ONE???" Ino screams

"IS THERE ANOTHER GUY WHO HAD NASTY GAY SEX WITH SHIKAMARU'S GRANDPA WHO I'M SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT??!?!?" Sakura screams back

Shikamaru just screams into his pillow. The girls both ignore him.

Meanwhile, Kakashi knows SHIT about his clan and recognizes nothing in the novel. Which is a special kind of tragic because as he reads it, he's being given more information than he's ever been given about his clan. And even specific stories and in depth recorded conversations about his grandmother-- and even occasional mentions of his own father as a baby, and he just... has no idea.

Man is literally reading about his ancestors, getting stories of his family only a single generation before him, going: "Wow something about this clan just speaks to me. Probably the dogs."

Literally getting his fathers childhood stories. Not a single clue.

Hes going on a mission going "Hmm, what would Haruka Hasake from hit bl series XXX do" like that isnt secretly his fucking GRANDMA

Meanwhile, all three of the kids are acting SO shady around him. Ino and Shikamaru specifically are so fucking suspicious bc they are largely successful in avoiding him like the plague-- so when they do interact, it's an Event(tm) for them, while Sakura is forced to learn to be normal near him via exposure.

Tho not even the sage himself can save Sakura from the day Kakashi pulls out THE book during training instead of his usual icha-icha. Sakura fucks up her aim on a body flicker and flies straight into a tree, giving herself a concussion. Rip!!

Anyways yeah. Let Shikamaru discover his grandfathers old, scandal filled diary and be blackmailed by Ino and Sakura into publishing it-- setting him on his journey of becoming the next big thing in naruto romance publishing. It'd be funny as hell.

Special thanks to @imsosleepyofyourbull and @halsaph for talking to me about this on discord, this is so fucking stupid and I had so much fun with it

[vm-haunts]

The world shaked apart around them as they moved further away from the hospital, debris covering their tracks and buries their way back.

It worked out alright though, in the end.

Between Ghost's help and Jason's better control, they managed well enough to keep the body alive in the chaos around them.

Ghost... isn't entirely sure why that is important when they're both ghosts, but he knows it is.

...

The people around them is... Hard to focus on.

Ghost first noticed at the hospital, with the doctors and nurses passing in and out of their room. They all feel like the cutout background crowd in a cartoon, to him at least.

Jason is getting better, slightly more aware and for longer every time he wakes up. Still, there is no way to tell how much he retains between his wakings, and communication is still hard despite his efforts.

So perhaps the reason Ghost felt like they're drifting is because the other people are all so alive, when they're both dead, and the dead isn't meant to interact with the living. Or perhaps it's because Ghost isn't anchored to anything living, and Jason who is wouldn't feel the foggy glass between him and the world at all.

Whatever the reason may be, if Jason can feel the world better than he does or not, it doesn't change the fact that they just drift through the living's world without much interaction.

Which makes it that much harder to notice, and that much more jarring too, when the living does manage to impact them.

...

Here's a secret: they remembered how to break a man's every finger before they remembered to eat every day.

Although, both realizations actually happened together when they fell over the passed out man, so it doesn't really matter anyway.

It could also be because one is an active threat to them, and the other is an... inconvenience that neither of them had to worry about for a long while.

Between the grave and the hospital, Ghost isn't even sure when was the last time Jason actually has to eat anything. His ghostly self doesn't remember eating anything, ever.

The only thing that matters is that they did remember, when they collapsed after giving the man a broken hand.

The guy has enough on him for a meal or two. It's harder to find somewhere to get said meal, and harder still to get things past their throat, but it worked.

Now they just have to remember to do it often enough the body don't shut down.

...

There's chaos everywhere, ruins and rubbles in place of buildings and streets.

Ghost isn't sure if that makes it better or worse.

On one hand, they fit right in with the miserable people camping out on the streets. No one cares if they can't respond right, not when so many others is just as unresponsive. Shock, ghost recalls, something that'll turn normal people into half living ghosts too. Metaphorically.

On the other hand, they don't know where else to go. Jason still wants to find Bruce, and as much as ghost wanted to help, he has no idea what else he can do when neither of them has a clue on where to and how.

Without a clear destination, the only thing they can do for now is stumble around blind, but Ghost doubt they can sustain it forever. Sure they are getting better at moving the body, but trying anything beyond the most basic instincts remains a struggle.

Guess they'll figure it out as things comes by.

...

There are... people, watching them.

Ghost isn't sure what they want. They aren't like the others that wants their spot to sleep, or the food they aquired. But they must want something from them, even if they can't figure out what.

Jason is wary, though Ghost doesn't feel any kind of hostility from them. They felt like the crows in the graveyard, or the shadows that lives in them. Watching because they're curious, or bored, or because they're told to.

Ghost suppose it doesn't hurt to be careful around them.

So these people watched them, from a distance, and they watched back. On and off again they caught sight of each other, as Ghost and Jason make their way around the crumpled city.

...

They walked some more.

One day they got to the seaside, where they can see the reminants of some collapsed bridges. Jason almost lost it when they did, and ghost still can't tell why.

Ghost steered them away from the ocean after that.

Another time a bunch of clowns tried to jump them outside of a park, but Ghost can clearly hear them scheming. They turned and left before the stupid clowns can start anything, and stayed away from the parks.

The people watching them disappeared for a while, and something is different when they cone back.

The chaos continues in the streets, but the scent of death is letting up. Change is on the horizon, Ghost can tell even without the crows.

...

They tried not to sleep at the same time, but sometimes they still crashes together.

They were moved again, is the first thing Ghost noticed when he wakes up. The second is that they are sitting in a room, with more people watching them.

He was wrong apparently, these people aren't like the crows and the shadows. They are speaking, he thinks, and it's clearer than any other people speaking, but the words eluded him unlike the crow's.

He has no idea if Jason even noticed they were moved. He's been out of it ever since they went to the seaside.

After a while ghost lost interest in the people watching them, when they presented no more threat nor entertainment.

When they wakes again, there is a lady with them, in green rather than black.

Lost Ghosts

[continuation of Little Prayers]

Something went wrong.

The boy woke up. The ghost knew that Jason would wake up, knew it with a surety when he doesn't know anything else. He had been waiting for that moment, for a fellow ghost to emerge ever since he felt Jason's first wobbly core speak.

But that's the problem, isn't it? He was waiting for a fellow ghost to come out of the grave, not- not for the boy to wake up back in his body, still stuck in the casket!

Soon the faint sounds of movement from beneath the grave turned into frantic scratching, and the ghost ties himself into knots with worry. What is he supposed to do? He need to get the boy out, body and all, but how? He had tried digging, but his claws are no help when it pass straight through the earth without moving a single blade of grass.

A distressed cry for help comes from beneath, and suddenly the ghost is hit with a memory. His very first memory really, of a warehouse, of sealed doors, of a freshly forming core's first cry.

Most importantly, of moving a half dead body around.

The ghost frowns at his claws and tried to think. A moment later he sinks into the grave with a reassuring hum, and the faint scratching turned into loud rakes of claws on wood.

...

Breaking through the silk and wood of a casket is a simple task, when sharp claws are involved.

Digging free through six feet of crushing dirt is much harder, but the ghost managed. It does get significantly easier after he found a way to pass through the earth again, this with the boy's body in tow.

The real challenge though, comes after they're out of the grave. Namely it comes in the form of figuring out how to walk. In a physical body. With legs.

Oh he can control the upper half just fine, his own ghostly self has similar enough bits. But legs? Tough luck. Not to mention that this body is also affected by annoying things like physics and gravity.

Even worse, he is also running out of energy, fast.

After the fifth time they land on soft muddy ground, the ghost huffed out a cold breath and laid there for a long second. Five falls in twenty yards, this really isn't going well at all. The edge of exhaustion is closing in swiftly and moving in the boy's body is getting harder by the second. At this rate they're never gonna make it out of the graveyard.

The ghost blinked, and took a moment too long to open his eyes again.

Distantly, he had the impression that someone is laughing.

[owuwi]

➤ ava starr x fem!reader

.ᐣ a small drabble about drunk!ava...

⤷ cw: smut

──────────────────────

ava isn't the type to drink—but when she does, her behavior really does change.

she gets quiet; her moves and words are even more calculated than they are when she's sober. but when she's with you? oh she gets horny as fuck.

she can't help it—you just look so good and, well, you're hers, and nothing else matters but you. she'll run your hands all over your body, focusing on those parts she knows you're sensitive, and doesn't even bother to hide how much she wants to devour you.

each time, you can definitely see the lust and desire in her droopy eyes, her gaze sending shivers down your spine—she cannot have her eyes off of you, not even for a moment—. and her voice? oh that delicious accent of hers gets thicker, her pitch way lower than usual. she whispers as if she was spilling secrets, though the only thing leaving her mouth is a mumbled repetition of the things she wants to do to you.

if she drank in a night out with her team, she'll come home to you and fuck you wherever you are.

"i missed you, y'know..." she says every time, and you better believe she's clingy. she's always clingy, if we're being honest, but drunk ava just cannot pretend to not love your touch.

if you're in the couch or bed, she'll climb on top of you and immediately remove your clothes—because drunk ava doesn't waste a single minute—. if you're standing, doing anything, she'll trap you against the nearest surface before groping you lazily.

but being with her while she drinks is a real punishment.

she doesn't mind letting people know you're hers but she's usually discreet about your relationship, and she keeps it that way when she's drunk and in public with you—because they can't see the way her fingers are brushing against your thigh from beneath the table.

she's a good liar who knows how to get what she wants, so she doesn't hesitate to act as if she was suffering from a migraine just to bury her head on your neck and ravish your flesh, biting and sucking on your skin as hard as she wants to—hand shamelessly sneaking beneath your panties to messily rub your clit—.

if the two of you are dancing, which she only does because of you, then you're already prepared to have her completely pressed up against you. her hands are on your waist yet they occasionally wander up and down your sides, or move further down to squeeze your ass if she feels like it.

she'll lean and keep her mouth against your ear, letting you hear her heavy breathing as the two of you sway to whatever music is playing. she's the type of girl to have her chest pressed against your back, grinding 'subtly' against the fat of your ass and groaning into your ear.

and, obviously, she's the type of girl to fuck you on the club's/bar's bathroom—plunging her fingers into your wet cunt and making fun of you for 'being so needy you actually let her fuck you in the filthy bathroom'.

[sapphicides]

please write that nastylot meta if you feel so inclined!!! i’m a believer as well <3

i’m not sure how coherent or well-written this will be but i have SO many thoughts on their dynamic(s) so i’m gonna try my best to put them together

i think what makes nastylot so compelling to me is that all three of these women have been ostracized or outcasted in some way. either by society, their friends, their families, or some combination of all 3, misty, natalie, and lottie are all intimately familiar with what it means to be “othered.” this seems to bleed into all of their romantic relationships, as well, with lottie being the only main character without a canon love interest, misty’s multiple failed attempts at dating, and natalie’s inability to achieve stability with any of her partners

… which is why it makes perfect sense to me that these would be the three characters most open to polyamory out of anyone. lottie seems like the most obvious candidate for someone who would be into it— out of all three of them, i think she’s the one who craves togetherness and community the most. misty’s desperation is more evident in her drastic and, oftentimes, outright dangerous attempts to get people to pay attention to/like her, but, unlike lottie, misty never really stoops to the point of changing herself for anyone. instead, misty hovers around people like a lost puppy looking for its owner, hoping they’ll see her for what she’s worth if they only get to know her. lottie, on the other hand, takes the opposite approach, projecting an image of stability and leadership while hiding the parts of herself she’s been taught to hate (see: her mental illness)

misty and natalie both have something lottie wants desperately: the ability to be completely and utterly themselves. misty never changes for anyone, despite many people’s attempts at getting her to. natalie is similar in this way, maintaining her sense of morality no matter how bad shit gets in the wilderness + being one of the only survivors who openly admits that what happened to them was traumatizing despite the unspoken agreement to never acknowledge it. lottie, on the other hand, falls so deeply into this role of prophetess that she built in the wilderness that she maintains it into adulthood, creating an entire commune that surrounds her with worshippers so that she can feel connected to people after being isolated and ostracized in her youth, no matter how empty or fickle that connection is

the thing that sets lottie’s connections to misty and natalie apart, though, is that they’re based in the harshest parts of reality that the other survivors tend to look away from: the shared trauma, the innate understanding of one another’s desire for intimacy, and the knowledge that each of them are so fundamentally damaged that they will likely never receive it in anyone but each other. so of course lottie is the key here. she’s the one who proposes the idea of polyamory, likely positing it as a spiritual thing and asserting the importance of the collective (think about how she referred to shauna’s baby as “our baby;” how she acknowledged the wilderness as “just us;” how she’s often speaking in “we”s in both timelines)

misty may initially reject this— despite her desire for a romantic relationship, she’s very much a traditionalist in how she views romance. she has an idyllic perspective on what a relationship should look like, often falling into this dreamy fantasy and imposing unrealistic expectations on the guys she’s interested in. she convinces herself she’s dating ben because, in her mind, it’s a fun, thrilling teenage romance when, in actuality, it’s a nonexistent, one-sided relationship that would be extremely disturbing if it were ever to actually materialize. she even does this with walter, romanticizing him before realizing that he can’t provide her with the emotional support or understanding she actually needs. and i think she realizes this at some point in season 2, on the commune with natalie and lottie and the other remaining survivors who actually do understand her, and that’s when she opens herself more to the idea of polyamory

even though i can see her showing some hesitancy, much like lottie, misty also values the idea of community and would likely open herself up to polyamory more quickly than natalie. where i think natalie’s main issue lies, however, is not with her holding onto some vague idea of monogamy being the “right” way to have a relationship (she was a punk kid in the 90s, trust me she doesn’t give a fuck about that) but moreso with her own commitment issues. i think her issues with her father influenced her in such a way that she began associating emotional intimacy with her dad’s violent outbursts from a very early age. on top of this, her mother seems to have been emotionally distant up until she died, setting a bad example for her from the time she was a young girl that never corrected itself

she’s known to have a lot of hookups in high school and this seems to continue well into adulthood, but there’s a reason they tend to stay as hookups rather than full-on relationships. travis is the closest thing to a real relationship she had and that was far from stable— except for her dynamics with misty and lottie, which seem to not only mimic romantic relationships in the adult timeline (her and misty working together to solve travis’ death, her becoming lottie’s right-hand woman completely unintentionally and “adopting” lisa with lottie) but provide her that sense of stability she can never seem to associate with relationships in both timelines (misty and lottie protecting her from the others in the wilderness, misty and lottie saving her from herself as her addiction/mental health issues spiral in adulthood)

this is also something natalie realizes in season 2 while on the commune— think about how she was initially so wary of lottie, only to give her trust over to her completley. think about how she was initially confrontational with misty, only to be genuinely happy to see and involve her when she joins them. after a while, i think natalie would realize what a critical part of her healing journey letting go of her commitment issues is and ultimately allow herself to be loved and love both of these women; not just from a distance, but as an actual romantic partner

and that is precisely what makes nastylot the most feasible polyamorous relationship out of anyone imo. each one of these girls has something to gain from entering an established partnership with the others, and each of them have a unique, mutual dynamic with both of the others that makes the idea of them entering a relationship entirely believable. i love love love most polyjackets ships but what makes nastylot so compelling to me is its genuine canon basis that a lot of other ships just don’t have

but don’t get me wrong here: i can absolutely meta-ize just about any polyjackets ship involving the main cast. so if anyone has any requests… my ask box happens to be open hehe

[6b4tree]

sex exploitation can never be work

"prostitution is like any other job. sex exploitation is work." wrong! by definition, exploitation refers to the act of unfairly using someone or something for one's own advantage, often involving unfair treatment or taking advantage of a situation for personal gain, while work means activity that a person engages in regularly to earn a livelihood. although the line really is kinda blurry in a capitalist society, the context of prostitution seems to be more prone to subject women into being exploited. for example, a regular source of income has its duties, yes, but it also has lots of rights. what right is a woman on prostitution given? the one to stay quiet or else she will suffer even more? also, even though youre facing hardships at work, you are paid, a reality most prostitutes do not live. they will live with their pimps at some place, will travel, and all of a sudden the person tells them "congrats, now you own me, yes i never told you that but i wont pay you. i dictate your price and how you get no right to a salary". life in this scenario is not the promise land as internet swears. in fact, do some research and you will find out most women doing it are trafficked, lots of them little girls yet. does it seem to you that somebody in this case would have choices? rights, even? if the country makes it an illegal activity, youre fucked up and may even become a victim twice, being punished for the exploitation youre under. nobody cares for you. people will protect pimps to earn some money, people with power! if the country makes it legal, on the contrary, not much will change. the main difference is that now your traffickers will not face charges if found what they did to you, its all under the law because what it matters at the end of the day is somebody saying youre working because you want to, and the huge amount of money a living human can give to another person. an infinite machine of cash, that you can use as you want. life being a prostitute is not cool nor empowering, it is not work because society and law dont see it that way and, most important, dont treat it that way. also, dont even let me begin with the internet shitty criminal promotion of this. the majority of women online who do it will not get rich, let alone live an easy life. "haha, i am paid to tell men to fuck off because some of them get turned on hearing this." or "well, some people have sex for free. i earn for it!" is, first of all, coming from a place of somebody for some reason really having luck with this, or, unfortunately and from what it appears, more frequently, a groomer. if you are getting paid to tell women this life is a good one and everybody who disagrees is an anti-feminist puritan, what else are you but a brand new 21 century version of the person who pretends to help victims while pushing them under this industrys shoes? and earning for it? not to say groomers arent in a way victims of this cycle too, but this is so wrong and i hate all of you who go online spreading lies so fake a fast googling will tell you. stop exploiting women and calling it fun and liberating. killing people outside the cave will not make the images you project on the wall any real.

[kuidore]

More miromabby headcanons pretty please(no pressure tho)I love ur hcs!

did i hear MiRoAbby HCs? >:3 ✧ Kpop Demon Hunters ✧ Mira x Romance x Abby

✧ Mira’s favourite colour is pink obviously

✧ her entire bedroom is decorated in just shades of black and pink. Like 2000s mcbling if a trashy punk nightclub puked on it

✧ Her hair *is* dyed, even in that photo of her when she was really young.

✧ She’s maybe 10, and it was the first time she’d ever done it, and she chose the day before her family picture. She had stains on her forehead that had to be edited out

✧ her natural hair is like a copper brown, exactly light enough that she can dump a bright pink dye on top of it and end up with the wildberry colour she has

✧ Abby does the back for her while Romance sits on the edge of the tub and just hangs out.

✧ The time he tried to help, Mira’s hairline had a pink ring around it for a week. So he was now designated to audience members

✧ Somehow he still always manages to get hair dye on his face, no matter how much Abby bans him from touching it

✧ Mira’s pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose to get on Abby’s nerves, since he’s never particularily careful about kissing or touching her when she has the dye on.

✧ she approves, so she doesn’t rat him out.

✧ Abby and Romance’s is “natural” (as natural as demon hair that they can change at will can be)

✧ Sometimes they’ll randomly make their hair the exact same shade as Mira’s just to get on her nerves

✧ She threatens to shave their heads every time, but internally she thinks it’s cute. It reminds her of that thing where people start to look like their pets when they spend a lot of time together.

✧ Romance’s favourite colour is also pink, but he and Mira argue about shades. She prefers either dark or vivid shades, Romance prefers light or pastel ones.

✧ Abby feels left out because his favourite colour is yellow, but he’ll usually pick a side just for the fun of being part of the debate

✧ The three of them are exactly the type of assholes that, when someone says ‘Enough, I’m not arguing with you’, their instinctive reaction is, ‘but arguing is fun!’

✧ At least now they have an outlet for it, so the rest of Huntrix and the Saja Boys weren’t the ones being forced to partake

✧ Romance would literally look up ‘stupid questions’ on google to find things to bring up that he just *knows* Mira will disagree with

✧ like when he said poptarts were a type of ravioli

✧ They actually like it when she yells at them, it’s a little reminder of the fact that Mira now trusted them enough to be her typical expressive girlfailure self and not her idol persona

✧ To an outsider their yelling would probably sound concerning, but they’re all always smiling like kids in a candy store.

✧ every argument eventually “ends” when one of them starts laughing so hard they physically can’t continue

✧ Their real arguments are few and far between, but Mira almost never yells during them, and *never* as loud as she does when they’re ’debating’.

✧ She’ll snap at them, but it’s more tone than volume

✧ They learn that what they should be getting scared by is when her voice gets *quieter*. Like calm before a storm.

✧ Mira can be vindictive when she gets into *actual* arguments

✧ when she gets her feelings hurt for real, it’s like all her self-control is out the window. She’ll say things because she knows they’ll hurt the most, not because she believes them.

✧ It’s a remnant of living under her parents’ roof that she still can’t get rid of, but she’s managed to get better as time passed

✧ when she was a teenager all it took was one wrong comment, one sharp pain in her chest, and she’d start off

✧ as an adult she has a better concept of her emotions, knowing the difference between when someone’s crossed a line and needs to be put in their place and when she was just upset and needed to have a proper conversation

✧ It never happens with Romance and Abby though, because they never try to argue against her.

✧ they *never* say things to hurt or belittle her on purpose, and if they ever think they might have, they’re desperate to rectify it even if Mira didn’t think it was a big deal

✧ In their eyes, she’s never *genuinely* snapped at them for something unworthy of being snapped at for.

✧ They’re not hurt when she gets too engrossed in her emotions and needs her alone time. When *they* were miserable, they tried to kill her and destroy the world, so. They didn’t have a lot of room to talk.

✧ But when she lets them, they’ll stay with her and silently wrap an arm around her or rest their head on her shoulder or lace their fingers together and kiss the back of her hand.

✧ It was a reminder that they were still there, that they still loved her, no matter how much of a cunt she was to them.

✧ It’s one of the most comforting things in the world. The reminder that she could be at her worst and they wouldn’t judge her. It was something she’d only ever felt with Rumi and Zoey.

✧ She rarely says it out loud, but she’s long considered them a part of the little family she’d found for herself.

✧ She doesn’t have to say any of it, they know. But she still tries sometimes, to express her positive feelings as bluntly as she does her negative ones.

✧ The very first time she does it, Abby teases her about going soft and Romance gets so embarrassed he goes silent and clings to her so tight she feels like he’s gonna bruise her ribs

✧ She says it’s their fault, and it totally was.

✧ She thinks it’s adorable, the way they break out into shit-eating grins and blush until their cheeks are practically the same colour as her hair. like teenagers talking to their first crush

✧ there’s a small, possessive part deep in her soul that *really* likes the fact that she’s the only one who could elicit the reactions she did out of them

✧ her only problem is they’re slowly getting used to being flirted with, and it’s resulted in the tables being turned on her a few times

✧ Their relationship is a constant arms race of ‘which duo can be more of a menace to the third one’, and unfortunately for Mira, the answer is usually those two idiots.

[radioactive-earthshine]

Now I am curious about what you meant by the sinister implications of Iris knowing all their histories?

The answer is sort of in your question - Mark Waid sloppily implied that Iris knew of all of her family's histories and destinies, then subsequent writers also played with this and expanded on some of the extent of her knowledge which they could never tie down properly.

She wavered between knowing nothing at all, to then pretty much everything.

It was a mess, and in my opinion is a plot point that should have had some concise and very FIRM rules if they had to have it all.

Instead we got a loose idea of what she knew and it made everything confusing.

The sinister element of this plot point reveals itself because it implies that she knew that Barry was going to die (did nothing to warn him) knew her own children were going to be murdered (again did nothing to prevent it as far as we know) knew what was going to happen to Bart (didn't reach out to Meloni beforehand to try to prevent it), and then once in the past exhibited favoritism in some scenarios by helping Wally with her future knowledge (she had to be bullied once though), but not Bart with Thad. She also knew that Carol was going to be forced to live in the future for a while, which I mean... that was a 15 year old NORMAL girl come on. Although she did try to save Bart's life by forewarning him in FMA, but it was too late and she sat on the knowledge until her guilt got too great to ignore (to be fair she was also unsure if he would die but there was a high chance). The most perplexing thing about the FMA plot was she did this after she understood that the future was changed anyway, so there was no point in her keeping quiet, which was a writer's fail. I feel like FMA can be ignored.

It's messy, it's sloppy, it opens too many doors and too many questions, it was poorly executed, and it also opens up the stage for a long and lengthy debate on if Iris knew her whole family was going to be slaughtered and scattered through time before it happened, and did nothing to prevent it, does that make her complicit in their suffering?

If you favor a story about someone unintentionally causing mass suffering out of fear of deep cosmic consequences, then this is a compelling story with literal cosmic horror as the main theme. Iris was petrified of changing the future and history itself, and what the consequences would be, and thus felt justified in keeping quiet.

I do actually think there is interest and power in this plot, and I am firmly of the opinion that Iris should have been revealed to be Time Trapper which would have made a lot of things make SENSE - but we never got that and that is just a matter of opinion.

Should Iris have tried to save the lives of her family if she knew they were going to die?

Did the writers know what they were writing?

What is the biggest implication?

How much did she know and when?

How much can a writer really lean on "well 1000 years later a lot of history was lost" before it just becomes unbelievable and unworkable?

TLDR: There are worrisome and tragic implications to her knowing the future and it quickly becomes a moral debate - if you had future knowledge that someone was going to die SHOULD you try to prevent it even if it might alter the timeline in negative ways?

[river13245]

Mend

Word count: 3.6K

Warnings: Father figure issues, hints at domestic abuse but nothing too graphic.

A/N: I fucking love Joel Miller and love writing for him. Bear with me darlings. (also I picture Logan looking a little like Kurt Cobain.)

-----

When you come home after a trip with your current boyfriend. You weren't expecting your life to change so drastically as it did. 

----

After spending 3 months at a beautiful spot in Italy with your boyfriend. You were much more tan than when you left. Texas was a beautiful place but nothing beat the Italy sun and how crisp the air was. Their small towns with all the shops and the water you could go too and spend your days at. It was all so pleasant there, it was like living our your Mamma Mia dreams. Especially when you chose to wear a sundress on your first day there. Nothing bad could happen to you there and you chose to remember it that way. Choosing to block out the bad things that occurred.

When you had finally returned home it was the hot air that first greeted you. It was so different from Italy, in Italy you didn't really sweat, but in Texas that's all you did. Especially on hot days like this. You had been carrying three of your suitcases while your boyfriend Logan was only carrying one of your small bags. Just so he could feel like he was helping you out. Walking inside you were trying to breathe through your nose as you felt your arms growing tired from carrying all the suitcases. You see your father in the living room sitting on his chair that he always sat at as he watched the news. "Hi dad" you say and he barely gave you any sign that he heard you.

The only way you knew he saw you was because he had glanced over to look at Logan before back to the TV in front of him. "come on" Logan says as he passes by you and makes his way into your room where he has been so many times before. When he opens the door he tosses your bag onto your bed while you gently place your suitcases into a corner in your room so you could unpack them at a later time. 

Logan was always so careless with your stuff, he would toss your things not really carrying where it landed or how rough he was being with your things. It was one of the many things that both of you argued about. "Could you please not just toss my things. You don't know what could be in that bag" you say as you turn to face him. He sighs as if it was such an inconvenience to him to take care of your things "I've told you so many times that whatever breaks I could just pay for another one. So does it even matter?"

Fuck him and his mommy's money. His mom was loaded with money, more money than she even knew what to do with. So with him being her only child it seemed the extra money went all to him. It was so much that the man in front of you hasn't worked a day in his life. His nails were never dirty and there were no callouses on his palms or fingers. Not saying that's what made you a man but you loved men who got dirty and had rough hands. Rough hands that would touch you ever so softly. You looked at him and said "There could be something inside that's really valuable to me that I don't want broken" pushing him further even though you knew it would only be a bad idea. However you never learned to just let things be. 

He looks at you before grabbing your bag. "why do you have to be so fucking annoying. Look I'll show you what all you have in here" he says as he unzips the bag in front of you. In the next moment he is tossing things everywhere in your room. Things like tampons, pads, makeup, chargers etc. It's not until he gets to a box that you freeze and hope he doesn't toss but he does. Just like the others it lands somewhere into the room before you could go to catch it. When he's done he looks at you "look nothing. So stop being a bitch when all I was doing was trying to help you"

You look at the box and get down onto your knees to grab it. Ignoring his words you open it up and see your grandmothers pendant necklace. It was one of the only things she had given you before she died. The pendant is cold against your warm hand and as you run your fingers against its cool metal you see that it's broken. Tears formed in your eyes and you refused to let them fall. Logan has never seen you cry and you wouldn't let it happen now. "get out" you say with a sudden bravery. 

There had only been a few times you've ever stood your ground with him and it never seemed to end well. He looks at you with a shocked expression "excuse me?" As he takes a step closer to you, you stand up "its just a stupid necklace. You could get hundreds of those exactly like it. I can just get you another one." He knew it wasn't just a necklace to you, in fact he knew the story behind this necklace and it gutted you that he was just so emotionless. 

Looking into his eyes you shake your head "I don't want another one! Nothing could replace this one you asshole!" anger was boiling inside of you and the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself. He walks closer to you until your back was pressed against the cold wall and that's when he does it. His fist goes through the wall and your head turns to the side as you recoil against the wall. Wanting it to swallow you whole. 

His hand roughly grabbed your face and jerked your head to look at him. You knew that there would be a bruise or two on your cheek from how rough he was being. It doesn't take much till you are looking at him, he was only an inch taller than you. "Id watch how you speak to me from now on. We wouldn't want any repeats of the other night would we" his words make your stomach drop as he reminds you about what happened a few times while you were in Italy. 

Italy that was once beautiful he had tried to taint and ruin for you. You would not let him, that place had been a dream. Next time you would just have to go without him. Fully enjoy the weather and the people. Get to know people that passed by you and interacted with. You loved people in fact you were a really outspoken person so why does this man, along with your father make you so different. 

Shaking your head you get a bit dizzy, not responding verbally. "You know what to do" he says as he lets go of your face. The familiar words that you've spoken more times than you'd like to admit start falling from your lips once again. "I'm sorry, please I'm so sorry. I know you didn't mean to break anything. Just trying to help me and it's my fault for making you so angry. Not being appreciative of what you were doing. I just need to keep my mouth shut"

He seems to like what you are saying because there is a sadistic smirk forming on his lips. There was no softness to those eyes of his. No love, not adoration. You don't think that he has cared for anything or anyone in his life. In fact you don't think he even cares about his own mother. If she didn't give him money he would have no use for her. Before you even can react he kisses you and you cant help but flinch back "great job babe. I knew you would come to your senses" when he pulls away he walks downstairs and you slowly follow behind him. 

When the both of you walk downstairs he walks over to speak with your father, while you go to your mother who was in the kitchen. She turns her head and sees you for the first time since you've got back and runs up to hug you. Your face bury into her neck and for the first time in months your body relaxes just a bit more than it has. "hi mom" you say and she smiles as she pulls away to look at you "hi sweet girl. I missed you. You will have to tell me all about your trip when you get the chance" 

Things between you and your mom were really good. You've always had a great relationship with her. However one thing you would never understand was why she was with your father. He was such an asshole to you and she stood by him. If he went to bed we all had to follow suit, no matter how early it was. It felt as if we couldn't live if he wasn't watching us closely to make sure we didn't step one toe out of line. That couldn't be how love was could it.

If that was how love was supposed to be like then why didn't you love Logan. He acted just like your father if not worse. Your father had only ever hit you once when you were a child and that was the first time your mother ever yelled at him. Lets just say he has not done it since. Maybe that's why your father practically shoved you right in front of Logan like a trophy and he made it his mission to get the two of you together. Unfortunately for you, he didn't stop until he got what he wanted so that's why you were stuck with him. There was no out for you, if you left not only would Logan hurt you but so would your father. 

Yeah you refused to believe that's what love is supposed to be like. So now the question is, what is love supposed to be like. 

Logan and your father had stopped talking and he pulls Logan into a quick hug. His hand hitting his back firmly like they were best pals. When they pulls away and Logan opens the door he looks over at you and your blood runs cold "I'll see you later babe" he left before you could say anything back. 

Babe. That's the only thing he ever called you and you hated it. There were so many other things you could be called. Things like honey, dear, love, darling, good girl, shit at this point you would take baby. Babe was just so basic and boring, it held no meaning to it at all, especially not in the way he said it. Maybe it was just him..you don't know. It could be because you felt nothing for the man you were dating. But what could you do about it, nothing.

There also were never any loving kisses. Hell there were barely any unless it was when he wanted to use you for sex. Sex which you never got off too and had to take care of yourself when he left you there. No kisses before he left or just because he wanted too. This man acted as if you had the plague and you hated how much it ripped you into shreds. 

When you hear his fancy car that was honestly quite ugly to you drive out of your long driveway. Your father turns to finally speak to you "get your things unpacked and put on an outfit other than that. Your mother is making dinner and we will be having a guest" of course the only time he talks to you is to subtly insult you and to boss you around. He never wanted to get to know you, never was that dad and you knew better than to expect him to be. You knew how he was from a young age which is why you loved your mother. 

"okay father" those are the only words you say before heading back upstairs into your small bedroom. Honestly you couldn't even call it a bedroom it was more like a closet. It fit a twin sized bed that was too damn small for you and made you wake up with a stiff neck and sore back almost all the time. Along with your dresser and a few bookshelves. Of course you made it cozy because you decorated heavily. There were band posters hung all over your wall and tapestries on your ceiling. On your bookshelves there were tons of books and even your record player. Your records being in sleeves and on their own special racks. There were a few lights in your room since you liked warm tones in your room after the suns tarts to go down. Never use much light when the sun is up because you loved natural light and it saved on the electric bill. 

You grab the suitcases that were in the corner and start to unpack them one by one. It takes about 30 minutes to finish unpacking everything and as soon as you were done you got ready. Going through your clothes you pick out jeans and a white blouse that was more nicer than what you currently had on. Which was shorts and a baggy t-shirt. You always needed to be presentable in front of your father so you made sure to brush your hair and pull it up nicely before heading back downstairs. 

When you walk downstairs you see your mother working away in the kitchen while your father was sitting In his chair. It always pissed you off how he made your mother do everything while he just sat on his ass. He worked while your mother didn't she was always a stay at home mom but she had told you years ago she wishes she worked because she got bored staying in the same place for so long. You were walking into the kitchen to help her when there was a knock on the door. "Natalia answer the door" your father yells loudly so you'd be able to hear. Rolling your eyes you mutter "please would be appreciated" your mother heard you and you swear a small smile was on her lips. 

A small smile forms on your lips after seeing your mom smile which was rare for her. You head to the door and open it, revealing a man who was considerably taller than you. Looking up at him you think he had to be 5'10 or something. The man looks down at you and waits patiently to be invited in. "Come on in. Make yourself comfortable" you say kindly

He walks in after saying a quick thank you and your eyes follow him, he was the epitome of what a man in Texas would look like. He's be on the cover of a magazine or something if the title was "a Texan man." The man was wearing a grey shirt with a flannel that was unbuttoned, then jeans that were tucked into the boots he was wearing. Noticing that he hadn't taken them off at the door and you couldn't imagine your father not telling him the rule at some point. Maybe he was trying to piss them off. You didn't know. 

While he talks with your father you go to help your mother in the kitchen. "so who is he?" you ask her quietly and she smiles "He is the neighbor, your father and him have become acquainted. He is a good man" you nod and just as soon as you start finishing up the pasta your father calls for you "Natalia come introduce yourself. Don't be rude." His tone left no choice but to obey. So you dry off your hands after washing them and then walk to the man beside your father and hold out your hand. "I'm Natalia its a pleasure to meet you" he takes your hand firmly but not roughly and you could feel his rough hands against your soft ones "The names Joel" A warmth spreads through your body and you are quick to let go as his eyes linger on you.

Seeing that could have been rude to just pull away like that your father glances at you. "I'm sorry. I should be going to help in the kitchen. Food will be done any moment now." you give Joel a kind smile before turning away to walk away. Its like you were trained to be sweet and kind in front of your father. Ever since you were younger if you weren't a certain way he would discipline you if you stepped a toe out of line. Always telling you that a man never likes when a woman speaks out of turn or doesn't listen. It's probably one of the reasons you didn't like men very much.  

His rough hands aren't the only thing you notice about Joel Miller. The more you hear him talk to your father at the table you notice he has such a deep southern drawl. He must have been born and raised here and you've always loved a man with an accent. Shaking your head you plate everyone's food and pass out everyone's plates in front of them. Your father thanks your mother while ignoring you completely while Joel makes sure to say it to you. "your welcome" you respond before sitting down to eat with everyone. 

As everyone talked you stayed quiet and in the short time you've learned a few things about Joel Miller. He had a daughter who was 12 years old and that his whole world revolved around her. It was so refreshing to see a father who loved their kid. It was a pleasant time until it wasn't because your father must have brought up a sensitive topic. 

"I'm surprised you came to dinner tonight. You are usually a very busy man" Joel's shoulders tense up. "yeah I've been taking care of my daughter. She just got over a cold" he responds as your father begins to eat his food. "Cant you have her mother watch her? I know how tiring it is to be with a daughter all the time" 

Your fathers words make you look at your plate and you can feel Joel eye you for a moment before looking back him. "Mother isn't around" is all he says and your father seems to not notice how tense the man is because he thinks for a moment "well if you ever need anyone to watch over your daughter. Mine would be honored to help you out. It will get her out of the house" he looks at you "wouldn't you?" You nod and finish swallowing your food before responding. "yeah of course. I'm sure she is lovely. Whenever you need" 

Joel looks at you for a moment before noticing how distant your eyes look. He was good at reading people, he had to be good at it for his business. Needing to know if people were bullshitting him. "sure, uhm. You free tomorrow night, I've got to work at 7 and wont be home till real late?" 

your eyes widen at how soon it was but you fix your expression and smile. "yes of course. I don't have any plans so I'll be there." Honestly you would do anything if It meant you would be out of the house and away from your father. Your mother was safe with him, in fact he was so nice and kind to her it was so different than how he treated you. So you wouldn't have to worry about her. Joel looks at you again and nods "good."

Another thing you noticed was that Joel was a man of few words. He wasn't coming across as being an asshole so you didn't think that was his intention. It was just who he was. He wasn't super intimidating or threatening so he seemed harmless. The only thing was that he made you a little nervous every time he looked at you. It was as if he was reading you and you hated it. You've spent years trying to make yourself as complicated and difficult to read. You've done it for so long that you don't even know who the real you is anymore. Is it this innocent sweet girl you were with your father, or your outgoing and confident persona you put on when you are partying with friends. You honestly didn't know and you didn't need anyone to figure it out for you. 

Eventually everyone is finished with their food and you tell your mom you will get the dishes. A kiss is placed on your cheek before she leaves you in the kitchen while Joel was saying goodbye to them. Once he leaves your father looks at you "clean everything up before you go to sleep. Then tomorrow you will work in the yard because its getting out of hand" you nod and he goes to bed with your mother

The rest of your night is spent scrubbing the floors, sweeping them, dusting. Not stopping until everything is spotless and you are about to drop to your knees from tiredness. As soon as you get ready and into your bed you lay down and pass out instantly. 

A/N: I picture Logan to look a bit like Kurt Cobain. (photo just for reference)

[brennacedria]

Thursday Bangers 6/19

Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

Thank you to @woundedsoul12 for both the game and the tag! I'm so late this week that I think everyone else has already been tagged, unfortunately. But if you see this you can consider it an open invitation to join in!

This week was Panic! At The Disco:

All my friends we're glorious Tonight we are victorious

It took me a little bit to figure out how to approach this one, and even once I did, it gave me some trouble. I got there in the end, though. Featuring my alternate Ria Hawke and Sebastian Vael, meeting for the first time since she got back from the Deep Roads.

The Party on AO3. Is immediately followed by The Branch.

__________

“To my dear daughter, Marian.”

“To Marian!”

Ria instinctively waved her glass at the sound of the toast, but hadn't heard anything her mother had said about her. She assumed it was complimentary, and smiled, and mentally moved along. This was the third party her mother had thrown since they moved into the estate two months ago. But, while the first two had been small affairs where it hadn't mattered that Ria excused herself in the first hour, this one was supposedly for her. As the guest of honor, she couldn't just leave–no matter how miserable she was.

“Serah Hawke, you're looking well.”

“No, I'm not, but thank you for lying,” she smiled politely. She was doing a lot of polite smiling tonight.

“I don't know if you remember me–”

The next smile was tired, but genuine. “Flint Company, I remember. Sebastian, right?”

“Aye, that's right.”

“And to what do I owe the honor of a visit from Prince Sebastian Vael?”

He coughed awkwardly. “It’s Brother Sebastian, now. Elthina convinced me to stay with the Chantry, rather than seek further vengeance.”

“So I killed all those men for nothing?” she pouted.

“No, I wouldn't go that far. If you hadn't taken that job, I might never have slept soundly again. You have my thanks for that, regardless of my choices since then.”

“Mm-hm.” Ria drained her wine, and grabbed another. 

“I can't actually leave, but I'm going over there,” she pointed towards the study. “Join me? You're better company than everyone else.”

“Are you certain? I was worried I was bothering you ���

She sighed, and drained the second glass. “No, I'm just in a bad mood. You don't have to come with me, I just hoped you might come along. Like I said, you're better company than most, and if you're with me then maybe the others will leave me alone.”

“Of course.”

They crossed to the study, and Ria left the door open so she could hopefully hear once the crowd thinned. She made her way over to a side table for another drink, then changed her mind and came back to the armchairs in front of the fire instead. As she curled up in one, tucking her feet underneath her in the seat, Sebastian took the other and they both watched the fire in silence for a bit.

“I'm surprised to see your mother so lively tonight,” he spoke up finally. “Elthina has me come by periodically to check on Leandra, and she's usually much more reserved.”

Ria nodded. “These things are shit for me, but they're good for her. It's why I keep paying for them.”

Silence fell again. “And how are you , Hawke?”

“Ria.”

“How are you, Ria?”

“I keep busy,” she shrugged. “Mother has her parties, and I work to keep my mind off things.”

“Does it work?”

“Not really. Mother throws parties for me here in Hightown, Varric buys me drinks in Lowtown, everyone wants to celebrate everything I supposedly accomplished when we went to the Deep Roads.”

A tear threatened to escape, and she wiped it away angrily before Sebastian could see. 

“Beth would have loved these parties,” she said suddenly, changing the subject. “She always wondered what it would have been like growing up like Mother did, in society .” 

“Tell me about her.”

“Little bitch was about four inches taller than me, for one,” she laughed. “But seriously, she worried a lot, and I know she hated that we all protected her so much. She was our Bethikins, though. We loved her, and couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to her.”

“She caught the blight sickness, didn't she?”

Ria nodded. “It had to have happened early in the trip, but she hid it from us until we were halfway out. There's no cure though, and she was in so much pain. We couldn't even get her to the surface where she could be made comfortable. She…”

“Ria?”

“She was so far gone,” she whispered. “She couldn't even lift her head, she was so weak. I couldn't do anything about it. Then she started coughing up the blight, choking on it. I… I'd seen it once before, with Aveline’s husband. Except he wasn't as severe. We– I– Sebastian, there was nothing else I could do but–”

“Maker,” he swore, and crossed over to her, pulling her out of her chair and into his arms. 

“Shh, it'll be alright, Ria,” he soothed her, smoothing her hair, but he was surprised to realize she wasn't crying. Instead her face just held a look of quiet despair, like she could never hope to be forgiven for what she'd done.

“You can't ever let my mother know,” she whispered, begging. “Or Elthina. Or anyone. Please, swear it, Sebastian.”

“Of course,” he agreed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. One tear escaped, and she brushed it away just as angrily as the last. 

“Ria? Ria, are you in here?”

“Yes Mother, I'm sorry,” she called back, stepping away from Sebastian. “Brother Sebastian and I were just talking about Bethany.”

If Ria didn't know better, she'd say her mother looked almost disappointed when she entered the study to see them. “Well, don't neglect your other guests, dear.”

“Actually, Mother, I think I need to lie down. Too much wine.”

“What am I ever going to do with you?”

“I'm sorry, Mother.”

Leandra shook her head, and turned to leave again. “Thank you,” Ria whispered to Sebastian once her mother was gone.

“Of course,” he replied, taking and squeezing her hand briefly. “You go on and get some rest. I'll call on you in a few days, to see how you're doing.

“I'd like that.”

With that she excused herself, sneaking through the empty servants' passages to the back stairs and up to her room. When she got there, though, the first thing her eyes fell on was Bethany's old birchcore staff sitting on the mantle.

The tears welled up again, and this time she let herself cry a while. When she finished, she made a decision. There was nothing she could do to change the choices she'd made. But she had to know if there was anything else that could have been done. Even if knowing the truth might kill her.

[faramirsonofgondor]

OK but now I’m imagining how this all looks from the rest of the Batfam’s POV. Like they’ve spent most of their time with Bruce living in Dick’s shadow, trying to measure up to him, trying desperately to fit into his mould. Bruce held them to Dick’s standard. They’ve watched the way Dick sassily parents Bruce and how Bruce actually listens sometimes. It doesn’t really cross their minds that it’s unhealthy for a child to be parenting their own father figure, because all they can focus on is the fact that Bruce lets Dick have that leeway to order him around. They ignore the way Dick always seems to take the brunt of Bruce’s anger and disappointment. They ignore the way Dick’s laugh always gets a little forced whenever one of them jokes about him being the favorite, about him being the Golden Child. Jason’s the one who says it the most, and most of the time it borders on being cruel, but he can’t help the fact that Bruce and everyone else seems worship the ground Dick walks on.

That’s why, when Bruce blames Dick for his own cruelness with such ease, the rest of the family can barely pull themselves together, and by the time they do Bruce is isolating and Dick is gone. Bruce doesn’t come out for days, and Dick doesn’t respond to any of their messages. No matter how much Jason angrily pounds on the door of the room Bruce holed himself up in, no matter how much Tim pleads for him to come out and explain, no matter how much Damian threatens him, Bruce stays put. It’s Babs, in the end, who manages to get him out by telling him that none of them had heard from Dick since it happened. She says that he’s the one who fucked up, so he’s needs to grow up and go try to fix it.

In the meantime, the rest of the family does some digging. It doesn’t take to find the footage they’re looking for. They comb through dozens of videos of Bruce softly speaking to Dick, who’s screaming and kicking and beating on Bruce as a young child. They watch Bruce gently chide Dick, uncaring of the fact that the ten-year-old curses him out for doing so. Then they see Dick, who had to have been 14 at most, but was more likely younger than, being carried into the cave by a wrecked Batman. They watch as Bruce paces his bedside, waiting for him to wake up. But then Dick finally does, and suddenly Bruce is furious, he’s grabbing Dick and squeezing too tight and yelling in a booming voice, demanding to know just what the hell Dick was thinking. They watch the way Dick’s eyes go wide with shock, then fear, as his father turns into a monster before his eyes. They watch as Dick slowly pinches his own arm, out of Bruce’s sight, just to make sure he’s not dreaming. He isn’t, but god does he wish he was.

They comb through more footage, desperately hoping that this was just a one-time thing, that Bruce went back to how he was before. But all they know he didn’t. There’s thousands of hours of footage, and yet none of Bruce’s gentleness can be seen in any of it. Not until Jason arrives. There’s still some harshness in Bruce’s demeanor, like he’d been tainted by the cruelty he’d subjected Dick to. Tim thinks back to the time Dick had been fear gassed, and kept whispering “I’m poison”. He wonders if Dick had been thinking of Bruce then.

Still, there’s a noticeable difference in how Bruce treats Jason. Then Jason dies, and everything changes again. Bruce had been violent then, but he’d never turned his fists onto Tim. No, he’d never punched Tim in the face and told him to leave, not like how they’d watch him do to Dick. He hadn’t been very kind to Tim, though, not for a long time. He’s gotten there, eventually, but it had taken time.

By the time they’re nearing Damian’s arrival in the footage, they’ve decided they’ve seen enough. They all sit in silence, wondering what to do next. They’re not sure, really, since Dick is always the one to mend things, to handle the family issues. They don’t really want to think about what that means, either, so they don’t. They just sit in silence, letting themselves pretend for a moment that their worlds hadn’t been shattered apart. Then, the moment ends, and they all silently vow to have Dick’s back on this, no matter what.

I need Bruce trying to gentle parent Dick as a child. Like maybe Bruce isn’t exactly a good parent but tries. When Dick starts throwing massive tantrums, he just puts Dick in an empty room for time out. This does not stop Dick as he ends up destroying the room despite nothing being in it. When Dick does something Bruce doesn’t approve of, Bruce just says softly “Don’t do that.” Dick does it again. Like I need him trying and failing. Nothing he does works. Then Dick decides to turn that gentle parenting back on Bruce. No whenever Bruce makes him mad, he puts Bruce in a time-out room. Whenever Bruce is being dumb, he just gives him a pout and says “Don’t do that.” Bruce actually does his best to listen to Dick because he thinks it might foster trust or encourage Dick to follow along when Bruce does it to him. It doesn’t really work. Dick still doesn’t listen and now Bruce is being parented by the child he’s supposed to be raising. The only plus is that it calms down Dick’s more violent urges because instead of destroying shit he just sends Bruce away.

Then Dick gets shot, and something in Bruce snaps. There is no more gentle parenting, no more kind words or soft punishments. He needs to make Dick listen, and if that means hurting him, then so be it. He loses sight of the fact that Dick is still a kid, an incredibly traumatized one at that. He still lets Dick parent him, although he’s more snappy about it. Dick stops being soft with him, too, instead telling him harshly to get to bed, threatening to sic Alfred on him, or screaming in his face about how he’s the worst. Somehow they’ve fallen into this horrible dynamic and neither of them know how to get out of it. Dick blames himself for being such a troubled kid, and though Bruce never says it, Dick knows he blames him too. So Dick leaves.

Eventually, over the years their family grows, but Bruce’s softness never really comes back. He’s meaner, more controlling, even downright cruel at times. And one day when the entire batfam is arguing with him over how unreasonable he is, one them snaps and says “Jesus, B, who turned you into such a fucking asshole?” and before Bruce can even think about it, he responds “Dick did.” He closes his mouth in shock, face going ashen while everyone else freezes. The words cut straight into Dick’s heart. He replies with the only words he can think of at the moment “Don’t do that.” He meant for the words to be cold, confident. Instead they came out soft, chiding and pained. Before anyone can say anything else, Bruce turns on his heel and leaves. They all try to follow him to argue more but then stare, confused, as he walks into an empty room, locking the door behind him. He doesn’t come out for a long time.

🥺 rip out my fucking heart why don’t you, damn.

But now I’m just thinking of the scenario with Bruce saying Dick turned him into an asshole, and the whole room freezes.

Jason didn’t expect an actual answer. Tim and Damian thought Bruce would have just chided Jason for his language. Dick thought a Bruce was just going to keep yelling.

But then the way he says, “Dick did” without even thinking about it, without hesitation, it shocks everyone.

And Dick feels like he wants to cry, because sure, he knew he was a pretty fucked up kid. He was troubled. Traumatized. A problem child. But Bruce for the most part had been so patient when he was little. And when Bruce started being an asshole after Dick got shot, it wasn’t like Dick couldn’t fight right back. It was almost like a game, sometimes. But Dick has always felt so guilty about it, because Bruce had been so soft spoken and patient and nice, and then Dick went and fucked him up. Dick ruined him. It’s all Dick’s fault.

Dick has always had that thought in the back of his mind. But he’s never had any real proof that Bruce felt the same.

Now he does. And Dick’s chest feels hollow as he stares at a horrified looking Bruce.

All Dick can manage to say is a soft, desperate, “Don’t do that,” just like Bruce always tried to use with him, before he started using yelling as his go-to response.

Then Bruce turns without saying anything and walks right into an empty room, and Dick feels like he’s going to throw up. He turns too, towards his bike, and he ignores the way his siblings are calling after him. He turns off his comms and rides home, going way too fast, feeling the wind whip around him, and tears blurring his vision until he blinks them away.

When he gets back to his Blüdhaven apartment, he slides in through the window and doesn’t even change out of his costume before he’s puking in the bathroom.

He silences his phone, turns in his security system, and then spends the next hour sitting under the water in his shower, spacing out until the water goes ice cold and he has to get out. Then he crawls into bed, pulls out Zitka from under the pillows to hug to his chest, and buries his head under his pillows. If he doesn’t pay attention to it, he can pretend he’s not still crying because of the guilt.

He stays like that for a long time, not moving. He falls asleep for a while, wakes up in a panic, rinse and repeat.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but the next thing he knows, someone is sitting down on his bed next to him, laying a hesitant hand in his back. And he knows it’s Bruce, and it just makes him feel even worse.

“Go away,” he begs, the words muffled under his pillows.

“I didn’t mean it,” Bruce tries to tell him.

“Yes you did,” Dick says miserably. “And it’s true. I know it’s true, you don’t have to pretend it’s not.”

“It wasn’t you who made me an asshole,” Bruce says. “The situation-”

“Caused by me,” Dick argues.

“You were just a child, Dick.” Bruce sighs.

“A horrible, no good, rotten child!”

“Don’t say that about yourself,” Bruce says firmly. “It’s not true, Dick. I don’t care what anyone says, you were not a rotten child. You were just a little boy. I was the adult, and I should have found other solutions that worked for you.”

Dick doesn’t say anything, but he eventually moves out from under the pillows to curl up with his head in Bruce’s lap. Bruce plays with his hair, and the two of them stay quiet for a long time. Neither of them really knows what to say. They’re both still upset. And they’re both awful at dealing with their feelings.

The sadness and anger and guilt they’re feeling from this fight won’t be resolved. They won’t really talk about it. It won’t be talked about without someone else bringing it up, and that won’t happen for a while.

But for now, Bruce is going to comfort his son. And for now, Dick will let him.

[taranchula]

venture movie was good. definitely felt like a bit of a ransom note but it got across what it needed to get across and did so with a level of panache. leaned a bit too heavy into it's ol' reliables (fake-out anticlimaxes, olive garden unlimited backstory, granular banter) but landed most of its hits and even if it didn't im gonna watch it 15 more times regardless

[callsigndreadfrost]

Loke (Fallout): This was not an easy situation for him. Look, he loves his brother more than anything else in the world, he has zero regrets about taking in his little brother and raising him. He just regrets that both lost their parents in such a sudden way at the same time.

It was so hard trying to suppress his grief and trying really hard to "get over it" especially since Loke himself was just a kid when their parents died. All he wanted to do was lay in bed and forget about the world for a long time, he was obviously grieving for his parents but he was also scared to death because he was just a kid himself. How was he supposed to survive the Wastes by himself? Nevermind the fact that his brother was barely even 2 years old. Sanaa and Ingvarr left a considerable amount of caps hidden away for emergencies but by Loke's calculations, even if he was careful, it would all be gone by the end of the year.

It was too much for a 17-year-old kid to be hit with all at once. Honestly having suppressed his grieving really did a number on him, he instantly set everything aside to take care of his brother. It was admirable of him and showed not just the fact that he loved his brother and a maturity beyond his years but it effected him in ways that would manifest later on.

I'd say he took a while to get into the role of guardian, his personality really changed a lot because he wasn't just his brother anymore he was guardian, he'd be both mom and dad for him from that point on. He got some help from some close family friends until they tragically passed and it was just yet another blow to Loke's psyche and delicate mental state.

Jelani as a kid was rather easy, he always listened, was eager to learn all Loke was trying to teach him and they got along great.

However, their relationship got rocky when Jelani hit those "dreaded" teenage years. He wasn't acting out, disobeying, doing stupid dangerous things or being outright antagonistic. Nothing of that sort. As time went on Loke grew more and more paranoid and constantly worried, to an unhealthy and honestly deranged degree, about Jelani's safety. By this time they were in New Vegas and Loke saw how eager Jelani was to explore and just live life to the fullest and that scared the shit out of him. He became overbearing, overwhelming, paranoid, gave Jelani virtually no privacy or room to breathe, was constantly running training drills on him and even if Jelani proved time and time again that even at 14 he was far more capable than even the best NCR ranger Loke constantly moved the goal post further ahead claiming he could do better than that.

Loke wasn't doing that to be antagonistic or to belittle him. On the contrary, he admired his prowess and knowledge that had surpassed even his own and far more than their parents. He knew what Jelani was capable of and he couldn't have been more proud of him but the closer Jelani got to 17 the more he worried about his own death and how that would affect Jelani so he had to make sure that he was prepared to survive no matter what. He was basically projecting his own traumas onto him. Both of them fought a lot and argued making it a less than ideal situation for both of them though Uthorim was able to keep the boys calm and offered a different perspective.

Loke always meant well though sometimes he overdid it and as I've stated before his own traumas got in the way a lot. He did make mistakes that ended up in Jelani paying the price for it but in the end Loke was just trying to do his best for his little brother. He has no regrets at all about taking on the role as guardian to his brother and wouldn't change it.

As for what does Jelani think of Loke as a guardian/parent? If he was to be very honest he'd say he's the best dad in the world. He's fully aware that Loke is his older brother, Loke was very honest about what happened, but Jelani doesn't have the attachment to his parents like Loke does. To him Loke's been his parental figure and in a way he'll always see him that way. Sure, they've had their differences, what family hasn't gone through that? But in the end he loves him very much and overall thinks he did a pretty good job.

For OCs that had unplanned kids or became guardians: how did this affect them? Did they take to it quickly or did it take them a while to adjust? Did they end up regretting it? How are those OCs as parents/guardians?

What about the kids? What do they think of their parents/guardians?

✉️

[hana-bobo-finch]

jørgan clan my beloved. you guys are so messed up

[echosofmortality]

Well, well... Boss really came for heartthrob energy mixed with classic refresh. My summer just got coated in sugar cubes shaped like hyena paws.

Shall we take a look at Morts mind palace?

I watched him go, the light of the outside world shining in at a harsh angle that captured his departure. That weight of losing something but gaining more was at war in my chest. The weights of balance once more falling out of sync in the master lock that was my existence. Exhausting to keep up with but necessary to stay alive. I couldn't misstep with a shadow following me with fingers that left bruises.

I melted into the red lounge sofa, lingering in the quiet. Ruggie wasn't like the other men I had known in my life. He wasn't a monster.

I nursed my mule, the tang licking my tongue as I rub my lips together, the red paint I had chosen chipping away against the cold copper glass.

Had I done well? Had my mask held as his did? Had I played the game to satisfaction? Was he pleased?The heat creeps up my neck at the recall of what had transpired plays back on a loop.

He'd been a gentleman with some spice interlaced, poking around for what my angle was. My romantic heart purred while I laugh at the memory of how fast he'd finished his drink, chewing on everything like I was gonna eat him. Poor hyena. A rum and coke as his chosen poison hm? Simple, honest, straightforward, and a classic everyone loves. I did say one can tell much about someone from their drink...

Asking to follow me home with my history? Is he sure he wants all those things that live in the dark? I have a spot if he wants it, though I'm not sure he'll be impressed with me all that much. I don't have much to offer in the ways of physical romance. Everything I knew was books and articles, talks with my pink intern from her many, many escapades. I wasn't equipped to handle a man's desires by choice.

My heart skipped and I took another drink trying to quiet the disturbance in my chest. The fluttery bird that had sat caged for so long. Ruggie wasn't The King, he was better, a gem, a precious one that many overlooked. I didn't want to overlook him anymore. I wanted him to burn me, cause they way he looked at me was how I wanted to be seen for the rest of my life.

How could I assure him further though?

Those azure eyes, tempid and sure one moment then questioning the next, but never cruel or demeaning. Sevens he wore every mask like a scarf and not like armor. Easy to change out in a flash. He matched me word for word, step for step, truth for truth and I was ...falling for him.

I clutched at my chest realizing that I was indeed a romantic, and while he had confessed to getting his heart broken often enough. I had kissed my fair share of frogs too. We were beautifully broken but looking at each other with hope.

Hope for something that wasn't teeth and pain and regret. Playing a game but also eager to fall... At least I was... Was he? Or was this just another moment to him?

I set my mug down frowning as the sour taste became bitter.

Country side handyman? Did he think I'd miss that? Now I'm wondering just how he got involved in the big city life. Or met The King for that matter. They don't seem like a pair that naturally just decides to cohabitate. I'm only seeing one side of the scenario though, Ruggie does seem the adaptable type so I suppose he collects us hard to love people. I am falling for him. Talk about a hypocrite.

I sigh head tipping back to stare at the ceiling that caused a soft ambient lighting instead of the harsh florescent madness that the world ran with.

That accent. He is trying to give me cardiac arrest. As he should with that nickname he poured from his lips akin to sweet agave nectar. The tone, the way it rolled from his tongue and how he held my gaze, brow cocked, like it was meant just for me.

Habibi.

Gosh, if he meant that in a friendly endearment way my bike may need new breaks by the time I'm done driving around trying to jar my heart back into my chest from its home in my throat. Cause he had about stolen it.

Shame a certain mangy lion had to interrupt our time together. Guess I should start making every moment count.

Now that I found someone I like I won't let you get away so easily.

And boy did I plan to chase him down. Hope he was ready for it.

𝘊𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦?

You entered the lounge all dolled up on your prettiest dress. The dim lights hid your nervous blush very well — you were about to meet your favorite after all, who could blame you? 

The head waiter with their polite smile approached you and asked:

“You wish to be seated with Hitman correct?”

As you nodded they gently led you to your assigned table, him waiting for you while sipping a glass of his favourite alcoholic beverage.

Ready to start the night?

The moment you sat down you could feel the surprise lighting up Ruggie’s azure eyes, almost like he didn’t expect to meet you at all that summer. You gave him a pleased smile and he started to nervously stir his Cuba Libre, making the ice clink against the glass, like he was unsure what to do now that you were in front of him — like he hadn’t thought that far.

“What’s the matter, Mr.Hitman? You seem oddly surprised to see me.” you said, voice laced with honey and a faint jab.

“Honestly? I kinda am.” he replied, cocking his head with still that expression painted on his face, as if his facial muscles were stuck that way.

“Oh? You are? I hope you didn’t think of running away and hiding under a rock, not after all the cute and sweet words you said to me during our last interview.” you said while deliberately sipping from your glass of refreshing Moscow Mule, making your lips pop as you sighed, delighted by the alcohol burning the right way down your throat — truth be told: you were teasing him, just a little, acting like a perfect femme fatale, like the ones in those spy movies, so far away from your usual behavior. 

In response to that gesture Ruggie started chewing on the lime slice of his drink, as if ruminating on the citrus could somehow prevent himself from saying things he shouldn’t. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, pursing your lips in a sweet yet devilish smile, “Why so shy now? You seemed pretty confident with your words not too long ago.”

Ruggie gulped down the lime slice, peel and all, in one go, throat constricting but never once he coughed. He narrowed his eyes, jaw tightening like he understood your whole plan at that moment.

“Are you teasin’ me? Fo’ real?” he said, his accent slipping through the sentence without him even noticing (or maybe that was on purpose). 

“You said it yourself "When the flirting doesn’t land you gotta be more assertive". Those are your words from less than a month ago, if I’m not mistaken.” you replied, sitting with your spine straight like in a business meeting.

“Clever girl…” Ruggie muttered, taking a gulp of his drink without ever blinking his eyes away from you, like you could pull something if he averted his gaze. “Gotta be frank: I thought you didn’t take me seriously. At all. Thought you’d preferred someone that gave you more…mental gymnastics than your countryside handyman over here. Caught me a bit off guard, habibi.”

You didn’t miss the saccharine tone to which he spelled the last word, the way his thin brows arched in a subtle teasing expression, even though you didn’t know what it meant.

“Oh, but you did give me quite the brainiac workout. Trying to figure out when you were flirting with me the whole time I asked you questions was quite the feat, if I dare say so myself.”

“And just how long did it take?” he quipped back at you, lips curving into that grin you learned to love during the interviews, together with his sharp sense of humor. “Is it just me or the brave and headstrong reporter is a bit too dense when people try to catch her interest?”

“So you do admit you were being serious with all your flirting?”

“You realized it just now? I suggest you don't decide to open a column on love advice then, you wouldn't be very competent in that field, I'm afraid.”

You kicked his shin underneath the table in response.

“Ouch! Hey, I was just joking!” he screamed, jumping on his chair like it had hot lava lapilli on it.

“I thought you needed a reminder to not turn out like your boss. Unlike you he’s not pleasant to deal with.” you said, not wasting an opportunity to trash talk Leona whether he was present or not. 

“You think I would be itching to be like him? Habibi you offend me this way, I still like living and not have a gun pointed at my head whenever I enter a room. Fat chance.” he said, smirking, not giving a single damn if the one he was insulting, ever so subtly, was his own boss.

You couldn’t help but giggle.

You also couldn’t help but notice just how much chemistry the two of you had — and you barely started a normal conversation!

“Tell you what: I was nervous the moment I saw you in the waiting line. Thought you were here in the reporter’s clothes and was just going to ask me more juicy details...and to turn me down, spite but politely. Now, I wish I could break the rules an’ follow you home just to keep chatting…and maybe do something else too.”

You felt the heat rising up to your neck at what his words meant but stayed calm and composed, almost like a poker match you needed to show as little bashful, maiden-like embarrassment as possible. 

“Someone’s needy, uh?” you replied, lips arching in a cheeky expression you didn’t know you could make. Ruggie shrugged, his expression mimicking yours. “Gotta make sure ya’ ain’t playing with me. I’ve got a sensitive heart, ya’ know? You’d be surprised how many ladies broke this bad boy’s heart.”

“Can’t say I understand them. Unlike your boss you’re such a gem, it’d be a waste for the whole world if you were taken. Oh well, you know how the saying goes: their loss is my gain.” 

Ruggie stared at you, stupor written all over those baby blue eyes of his. As he opened his mouth to speak, the ringtone of a cell phone beat him to hit. He took one look at the display to know who was bothering him and his face immediately turned sour. “Speak of the devil…guess with all the times I’ve said his name tonight I kinda jinxed myself.” he muttered, annoyance laced with sarcasm. 

You didn’t need to ask who it was to know just exactly who was the one that called Ruggie. 

God fucking damnit, curse you and your inappropriate timing Leona Kinscholar!

“Sorry to cut our night short, Habibi, but I gotta skedaddle. Work is calling…an’ I have to answer.” he said while getting up from his chair, throwing his black jacket back on his shoulders in one swift movement.

The two of you looked at each other’s eyes, an unspoken question popping in your minds like you had the power to read the other’s thoughts.

“You’ll see me again. — you said, resolute — Now that I found someone I like I’m not letting you get away that easily. But don’t expect me to not roast you during the interviews, I still gotta do my job as a reporter.”

“Say that again…please.” he muttered, so low you were afraid the words slipped from you, his cheeks an adorable pink even under the warm red lights of the lounge.

“What? The part where I say I’ll roast you at our next interview?”

“No, no. The other thing you said.”

You stayed silent for a split second, rewinding what you said in the heat of the moment. 

“I said: now that I found someone I like I’m not letting you get away that easily.”

Ruggie smiled, a small smile of recognition that made your heart skip a beat without you even noticing. 

“I’ll count on those words, then.” and he exited the lounge, phone placed between shoulder and ear, listening to his boss’ yapping, while adjusting the sleeves of his suit.

You allowed yourself to relax, almost melting on the copper red sofas. In your mind you replayed the conversation over and over, blushing up to your ears with every word you said.

Flirting was really too much for you.

✠ Would you like a table? ✠ Bullettin board

Thank you very much @echosofmortality for requesting. We apologize for the long wait and hope you enjoyed yourself. I'll await your next patronage.

Signed - Boss

[slayerdurge]

having played a decent amount of bg3 now i can say with absolute certainty that i'm going to durgetash hell