#AW YOU SHITHEAD I'M SO PROUD OF YOU

[savage-rhi]

[flowerandblood]

The Loved One (2/2)

[ modern • Aemond x Alys!sister • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, swearing, toxic behaviour and relations, manipulation, therapy ]

[ description: After the events of that night, Alys' sister tries to move on from what happened, proud that she didn't cause a tragedy. However, when it turns out that Alys' boyfriend has broken up with her the next day, her older sister becomes hysterical, and she wonders despairingly whether she was the reason of his decision. Lost, obsessive, distant, desperate Aemond. Anon request. ]

This is Part 2 of The Second One

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

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Even though weeks had passed since that bizarre night, she couldn't forget what had happened. It didn't help that the next day her older sister called their mother crying, saying that this shithead had dared to leave her, to walk away after all she had endured for him.

She stared with big eyes at the pancakes lying on the plate in front of her, feeling the cold sweat on her neck and the rapid pounding of her heart, listening to her mother's puzzled questions trying to calm her down, saying in a trembling voice that maybe it would be better this way, that after all they were still fighting.

Alys seemed to have forgotten everything that happened between them and what he had said to her the day before – she felt tears under her eyelids hearing her sobbing, her helpless confession that she loved him and didn't want to live without him.

She felt his hand between her thighs, his tongue deep inside her throat.

She was ashamed that she had barely held back, that she had refused him with difficulty, that some part of her wanted him to stay.

To fuck her.

She swallowed loudly, feeling herself shudder at the memory of the piece of paper he had slipped under her door and what was written on it.

I wish I had met you before her.

She felt a kind of discomfort at the thought of being possessed by some kind of terror and satisfaction, because she was bonded with him by a secret that no one knew about but them.

A moment later, however, she recalled how awful things he had said about Alys, how objectively he had treated her, and that he would have done exactly the same with her if she had not regained her sobriety of mind in time.

She has big tits and a big ass.

She sucks cock well.

She shook her head, feeling that it made her sick to her stomach at the thought, and got up from the table, unable and unwilling to listen to it, recognising that her sister was right.

They were made for each other.

To her despair, Alys came to their house again later that day. She paid no attention to her, directing her despair and pain towards their mother, telling her that he wasn't taking her calls, that he had blocked her number, that he had simply texted her briefly and that was it.

"How could he do this, after so many years. We've been through so much together and he breaks up with me over a fucking text message? Like a fucking kid, no conversation, no explanation?" She heard her mumbling coming from the living room and their mother's voice trying to reassure her – she stood in the dark hallway of their house, eavesdropping involuntarily, thinking with some kind of amusement that it was obvious he had ended it that way.

She shuddered when she heard her name and the fact that her sister had stood up: she ran quickly upstairs, fearing that the subject of their argument and what she had accused him of would now cause her to lash out at her.

True to her intuition, Alys knocked on the door to her room after a while – her mother tried to calm her down but she interrupted her saying that she just wanted to talk, that it was possible she knew of something more.

They stepped inside: her older sister grunted as she tried to quiet herself down, wiping her smudged make-up with her fingers, her face red from tears.

"I'm sorry for his inappropriate behaviour yesterday. He kept staring at you, too sure to get me off balance. Did he bother you after I left?" She asked, putting her hands in front of her, as if this question was a formality for her.

Something in the way she said it, in her conviction that it all revolved around her, that she was asking it not because she was worried about her but because she wanted to prove something to herself made any sympathy and remorse she had felt a moment before disappear.

She told me about you. What an ugly duckling you are. That you don’t know how to dress well, don’t know how to accentuate your figure and your assets. That you hide yourself in big sweatshirts and sit with your nose in books instead of really living and that there’s nothing to talk to you about because you can’t converse about anything interesting.

She recognised that she had acted appropriately – she had cut whatever was going on in time and told him to leave, so she didn't feel the need to admit anything.

"He wanted to talk to me about Gombrowicz, presumably so that I would repeat it to you later and to arouse your jealousy. I told him to leave and that's what he did." She replied softly so that her words were not a complete lie – her sister pressed her lips together, clearly displeased by her statement, her nostrils quivering in uncertainty and rage.

She had no such intention.

"Is that all? He didn't want anything else?" She asked coolly.

She raised her eyebrows and laughed dryly, recognising that for some reason all this amused her – the thought that her little sister about whom she had said such things might have taken away something that belonged to her.

Take him, she thought.

You're both sick.

"Me? Please. I told him clearly not to involve me in your affairs and use me against you." She said indifferently. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that her sister had turned purple – she swallowed loudly as if she was afraid of what she was about to hear.

"What did he say to you?" She asked in a trembling voice forcing herself to be calm, from which she felt a thrill of satisfaction.

"A lot of things. For example, what you say about me. What a caring, good sister you are. How much you worry about me, with what tenderness you think of me." She replied while playing with the pencil lying on her desk, not even looking at her, feeling the awkward silence that had fallen around them.

"I…after all, you know that I would never say anything in bad faith. I get upset with you sometimes, like any sister, I don't understand you, it's true, but I love you, you know that. God, that fucking liar and manipulator!" She growled helplessly, fiddling with her necklace between her fingers in a nervous gesture, looking pleadingly at their mother as if hoping for her support in the matter.

"If he's a liar and a manipulator, why do you want to be with him?" She asked tiredly and impatiently, no longer feeling anything but grief and disapproval.

"That's how we are, both of us…like fire, we argue and come back, it's always been that way." She muttered, and she swallowed hard, thinking with relief that the fact that she had refused him was the wisest decision of her life.

"Do what you want, don't get me involved. Leave." She said dryly, taking a book from her shelf, Trans-Atlantyk by Witold Gombrowicz.

Alys left her room, clearly furious that the conversation hadn't gone according to her plan, that she couldn't go on playing the victim, the one innocent and perpetually abused.

She thought she wanted nothing to do with them.

A few weeks passed and she slowly began to forget about the situation even though Alys couldn't get over it – she knew she was now on some sleeping pills, immersed in utter despair.

She figured that sooner or later she would find someone else – she just prayed that he wouldn't change his mind and come back to her, because she didn't know how she would bear the sight of him in her house.

However, something happened that she had not expected at all.

One evening she received a message from an unknown number.

She opened it and frowned after she read its contents.

Block it and delete it? Threaten him with telling Alys and her mother everything?

She felt her heart start pounding like crazy, a cold sweat on the back of her neck – she covered her mouth with her hand, terrified, wondering where he had got her number, what was she supposed to do now.

She was afraid of what he was capable of, that he might start talking about the fact that she had let him stay with her after all, that something more than a kiss had happened.

She swallowed loudly as she looked at her screen and slowly typed out a reply on her phone's keypad.

She shuddered when, a moment later, her display lit up again and she opened the message from him with her heart beating fast.

She sent it, clenching her eyes, thinking with despair that her answer was too aggressive, that it would surely enrage him, that she would regret all that had happened, her stupid moment of weakness.

She looked at what he'd written without knowing for herself what she felt, her throat squeezed so tightly that she had trouble breathing. She jumped when the messages began to appear one after another.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, angry at herself for letting him do this to her, telling her what she wanted to hear, putting himself in the role of a disappointed and disillusioned man who needed comforting.

She read everything he wrote with an expression of disbelief, completely shocked by this sudden externalisation. She felt her heart squeeze, her body trembling in horror at the fact that he was trying to play with her again, unwittingly giving her what she wanted.

He knew she longed to be appreciated, to be important to someone, to be the only one, to do something her sister had failed to do.

To fix him.

He was giving her himself on a plate, distraught, seeking comfort and refuge, an opportunity for her to prove herself, to show to herself that she was better, more tender, smarter than her sister.

She felt tears of helplessness and humiliation gathering at the corners of her eyes, and swallowed loudly, typing out a message on her phone.

She sent the message and breathed out loud, covering her face with her hands, wondering in pain why he was doing this to her, why he was being so cruel.

Did he want to prove something to himself, to stab her sister in the back with her help?

She shuddered when she heard her phone vibrate and unlocked it quickly, her lips dry with stress.

She didn't know why she burst into sobs after reading his message, why she felt so sad, embittered and humiliated.

I wish I had met you before her.

Why was he doing this to her?

Why was he messing with her head?

For some reason, because of everything she had read, she felt even worse, the pain that ripped through her heart seemed unbearable.

Some part of her wanted to believe him.

She had trouble sleeping, going back to what he had written again and again, once wanting to block him, then immediately deciding that there was no need, that he had clearly given her peace.

She knew she should forget about him, but she couldn't.

Therefore, she tried to concentrate on her studies. Her classes filling her entire days – she even took extra lessons, wanting to be away from home in the evenings as well.

Walking through the large, neo-Gothic hall, she came across a poster hanging on the notice board, announcing open lectures taking place every week on Thursday at 7pm, on the works of Orwell, Kafka, Dostoyevsky and Gombrowicz, entitled 'The Fall of the World'.

She thought the whole thing sounded extremely tempting, and as she loved all these writers, she decided to attend at least once.

The lecture was held in a library that anyone could enter to make things easier for outside listeners – when she went inside most of the seats at the tables were already taken.

She stopped in mid-step, wanting to back away, but it was too late; the tall, well-built figure of a blond-haired man sitting in one of the chairs turned towards her involuntarily, his gaze expressing shock.

"Miss Rivers, welcome! Please, take a seat." Professor Moore, the same one who had lectured to her year on twentieth-century world literature, spoke to her.

She nodded, horrified that it would be at least odd if she left now, so she sat down in one of the empty seats trying not to look at the sinister, inscrutable man sitting a few seats away.

She felt ashamed that some part of her was glad to see him, as if she hoped to meet him again.

"Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four is an extremely heavy read, filled with metaphors, and yet, the author foretold something in it, perfectly describing what communism led to, the fear of surveillance and propaganda, the feeling that everyone is an informer, that no one can be trusted, can be observed in a large part of contemporary Russian citizens. Cut off from non-state information sources, from certain parts of the internet, they live in the conviction that their country cares about them, that the security services are following them and spying on them for their own good. Some even firmly believe that this is for the best. Don't you think it's frightening that something Orwell predicted actually happened, on top of it earlier than he thought?" Asked her professor – she raised her hand, recognising that if she allowed herself to be drawn into the discussion, she would stop thinking about the man who sat a few chairs away.

He let her speak with a nod.

"Orwell wrote this book in 1945, already knowing what Nazism and Communism were. He did not understand how Western Europe could have agreed to recognise Stalin as one of the victors and lead, as a result, to the so-called Iron Curtain in later years. This book was his warning, his sense that we had crossed some line of dehumanisation after Auschwitz that had never happened before in the world." She said on one exhale, a second person, an older man also raised his hand.

"He may have known, but he also felt under his skin that it would not end with communism and Nazism. And he was right. The place of these groupings is being taken by others, just as threatening, also talking about the rights of the nation or the equality of all. We forget that Hitler and Lenin also originally floated on fine words." Said the man, several people nodded their heads in agreement. She shuddered when she heard another voice, familiar to her, speak up without permission, impatient.

"Orwell was not an idiot. If he had wanted to deal with the problem of the rise of political sects, he would have started with that, but he places the plot in the course of events when the state is completely subordinated to the apparatus of power. We hope for a happy ending, a complete victory, but Orwell recognises that there was no such thing after the Second World War. Nuremberg held Germany to account, but not Russia or Japan. Nowadays we don't even talk about their crimes – we delight in their culture and history forgetting whose side they were on, often committing far worse crimes than Hitler."

He glanced at her, as if to see how she would react to his words, to his voice, and momentarily dropped his gaze, as if embarrassed, caught off guard.

He said coldly.

She was surprised by how accurate this observation was.

She looked at him involuntarily – he was sitting with his profile to her, his jaw clenched, the fingers of his hand stretched out on the tabletop moving restlessly, playing with the pen that lay before him.

"Each of these three comments is exceptionally apt. The anxiety that Orwell arouses accompanies us in our daily lives right up to the present day, and somehow he has managed to create a vision of a universal totalitarian system that suits every one that has been mentioned. Let us now turn to the specific chapters…"

They passed the rest of the lecture discussing whether there really was any resistance movement at all, or whether it was just a contrived idea used to catch would-be rebels and break their will even before they could really stand up to anyone.

Somehow the conversation about the book had put her in a depressed, gloomy state; when the professor thanked them and said they were seeing each other next week she wasn't sure she'd come a second time.

Even more so if she was to see him during them.

They were open lectures and he had a right to be there, but she was already tired.

She heard his footsteps behind her and knew it was him when she felt his large hand grab her gently by her arm.

"Wait. I'm sorry. I really didn't know you were coming −"

"− I know. You have nothing to apologise for." She said softly, wanting to pull away from him, but he didn't let her go – even though she wasn't looking at him she could feel his burning gaze, his heat, his raspy breath on her cheek.

"− I don't know yet −" She replied in a shaky, tired voice, feeling that her heart was pounding like crazy. For some reason she felt tears burning under her eyelids – at the same time she wanted him to give her peace and not to do it, something in his darkness, in his unpredictability attracted her.

"− promise you'll come next week − that you won't give up because of me −" He said in a low voice.

She felt embarrassment and a squeeze in her throat at the thought that she wasn't sure if he meant that he didn't want her to give up her interests because of him, or that he was hoping to see her again.

She thought with despair that perhaps it was the same thing that kept Alys from forgetting him.

He grunted and let her go, clearly sensing that he had held her for too long, an awkward silence full of tension fell between them.

"I'm not going to lie. I was hoping to see you here." He murmured lowly, lowering his gaze, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers, the black turtleneck he wore perfectly framing his well-built, broad chest.

She pressed her lips together at his words, adjusting the straps of her backpack hanging over her shoulders in an involuntary, nervous gesture, unsure what she was supposed to respond to such a confession, feeling heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that for some reason he didn't want to forget her.

"Why are you doing this? What else do you want from me?" She asked embittered, looking up at him at last – he lifted his gaze to her, fear, desperation and shame in his eyes.

He swallowed loudly, as if he didn't know what he should answer, looking at her in silence.

"I missed you." He muttered quietly, embarrassed like a small child. She shook her head, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.

"What?"

"I missed you. The way I felt back then."

"For God's sake, we only spoke once, what do you miss? The adrenaline that was bubbling inside you at the thought that maybe I'd be naive enough to let you fuck me? I let you into my room, into my life only for you to humiliate me. You are a cruel man."

She mumbled out while bursting into a loud, uncontrollable sob, covering her face with her hand. She heard in disbelief that his reaction to her words was identical – he embraced her and pulled her close, hugging her to his chest and although she wanted to push him away, she couldn't.

"− I didn't mean to hurt you − I swear, I really just wanted to talk, I couldn't sleep, I was angry − what happened next −" He mumbled out, his voice stuck in his throat – he drew in a sudden, shaky breath of air, swallowing loudly.

"− I just − I don't know, I have no idea what came over me, I never cheated on her, I swear − I swear −" He babbled, both of them crying loudly, her hands rose higher and tightened on his back – she felt both pain and relief at the thought that he was as embarrassed and heartbroken as she was.

"− can we start again? − as if we had never met? −" He asked pleadingly and she, not knowing why, nodded, thinking she wanted to leave it all far, far behind.

Although they both calmed down after a moment, they still lingered in each other's embrace – a pleasant shiver ran down her spine as she felt his large hand stroke her hair and back with a calm gesture full of care, her face snuggled into his warm chest, her nostrils filled with his masculine scent.

She shuddered and swallowed loudly as his lips placed a drawn-out, hot kiss on the top of her head, her breath caught in her throat when she felt something pulsate hard in his trousers.

They pulled away from each other, wiping their faces, both pretending nothing had happened – he breathed out loud, combing his hair in a light, careless gesture, his cheeks red with emotion.

"− see you −" He muttered, and although she knew she shouldn't, she showed up for the next lecture.

And then the next and the next.

Each time he sat down next to her, close, too close, his legs splayed comfortably making his knee pressed against hers, but she didn't move away, herself getting something out of the situation that she couldn't name.

Her sister had told her mother on the phone that she had moved on, that she wasn't going to trouble herself with this bastard, told her about their endless arguments, about how he would raise his voice and throw things, leave in the middle of a conversation slamming the door, about how he always acted like a spoilt little child when he didn't get what he wanted.

She knew that she was leaving out of these arguments what she herself had said and done in an obvious attempt to create a narrative of his one-sided aggression, however, despite being malicious and ironic, she was struck by how completely different his view of the whole thing was.

Sometimes the two of them would buy warm tea from the vending machine and spend spring evenings in the university park sitting on the grass on his leather jacket, just talking – since they had both cried and cuddled he had not tried to touch her or otherwise invade her personal space.

"My family has always been involved in the modeling industry. Big money, big banquets, fashion shows in Paris and Venice. I always despised it, but what could be done? My father expected me and my siblings to take over his inheritance, on top of which his daughter from his first marriage was fighting for a bigger share than she was originally entitled to. It was some kind of nightmare." He muttered, taking a sip of the hot liquid from a small cardboard cup, looking somewhere ahead with a blank stare, the sun was setting behind the beautiful neo-Gothic red brick buildings.

"To be honest, it never interested me. I was into art, but not this half-world. When I met your sister I liked the fact that she was going after what she wanted. Of course, she wasn't the first chick to want to go to bed with me for the obvious benefits, but her impudence was downright endearing in a way. Only later did I realise that it was impudence mixed with calculating. But we were both too proud to let go, to be the weak link."

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, finally looking at her with the same tired, resigned eyes she had seen for weeks – she couldn't tell if what he was saying and showing her was the truth or just his game.

But who would want to pretend for so long?

He lowered his gaze, scratching his cheek with his thumb, seeing in her eyes that she remained wary of him, that she did not trust him.

She herself didn't know why she had allowed him to spend time together, only to find with sadness that some part of her wanted to understand him.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to undo what's happened inside your head without the help of a professional." She said softly, looking down at the cup she held between her hands on her thighs. She heard him swallow hard – she knew this topic was not comfortable for him.

"If you really do it, I'll go with you." She said quietly, feeling a sense of discomfort, knowing she shouldn't do it, on the other hand realising that her mother had made sure Alys visited the psychiatrist at least a few times, and he needed it just as badly.

"Will you come with me? If I make an appointment." He muttered in a low, hoarse voice. She looked at him in disbelief, feeling a tightness in her throat, once again surprised by his behaviour and his words.

She did not believe that he would do so, recognising that this was part of his plan to soften her up.

Nevertheless, after a few days she received a message from him with the address of the doctor's office and the time of the appointment.

She turned up at the place indicated, lying to her mother that she had gone to the University Library – the office of the man he had mentioned was in fact in the suburbs, and next to the door to the building was a nameplate with his profession.

A few minutes before the time he pulled up in a big, shiny black SUV, dressed in a black tight T-shirt tucked into black trousers, a watch on his wrist – when he got out he looked stressed and unhappy, she knew he really didn't want to do that.

He lit a quick cigarette even though he only had a few minutes left before his visit and she thought he would cowardly tell her that he didn't feel like it after all, that he didn't have to do it, that he was already feeling better.

"Is it really necessary? Externalising myself to some fucking asshole for my money?" He asked coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette with a quiet hiss. She looked at him feeling a squeeze in her chest, tears of regret under her eyelids at the thought that she had spent so much of her time and effort on him only to realise that he was exactly as she had imagined him to be.

"− I'm sorry − thank you, little one − if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have come here at all −" He muttered low, taking a quick drag a few times, extinguishing the remnants of his cigarette on a bin standing nearby, letting the smoke out loudly through his nose.

Seeing the look on her face he swallowed loudly and lowered his gaze to his feet, wiping his forehead with the back of the hand in which he held the cigarette in a nervous gesture.

She had the impression that his body was quivering.

He startled her when he stepped inside, so she moved behind him, both of them heading up the steps past the signs straight into the cabinet. She watched as he sighed heavily and knocked, a middle-aged man who could have been their father opened the door for him after a moment.

"This is my friend I mentioned. I want her to be there when we talk." He said lowly, and she froze, looking at his back in disbelief as he stepped inside, convinced that he just wanted her to wait for him outside.

She lowered her gaze, horrified at the thought that he would be telling him his problems, his most intimate secrets in front of her, but she wasn't sure she could refuse when he had already taken such a big step forward.

The doctor smiled at her and, with a gesture of his hand, encouraged her to go inside, so she did, taking a seat on the other side of the sofa, the doctor sat opposite them.

"Please tell me what brings you to me."

He began – she stared at a flower in a pot standing at the other end of the office, feeling like an intruder, as if she was eavesdropping on someone's conversation and had no idea what she should do with herself.

"I tend to be verbally aggressive. I tend to get involved in toxic relationships with other toxic people and I'm like that myself."

She heard his low voice and swallowed loudly, somehow appreciating his self-criticism, the fact that he saw the problem holistically.

"Let's start with the first sentence. What do you think verbal aggression means?"

"I know what to say to hurt someone. I know it, I do it on purpose and I get satisfaction from it."

"Please say something more about this feeling of satisfaction."

He remained silent for a moment – she heard him shrug his shoulders, impatient.

"The feeling of power."

"What do you feel after that, when the satisfaction passes?"

"Emptiness."

She looked at him uncertainly, fiddling nervously with the fabric of the dress covering her thighs, feeling that her whole body was tense, a cold sweat on her back.

"A lot of people get addicted to adrenaline. Also from arguments, aggression or violent sex. The lack of affection and security is filled with temporary emotions, and their absence causes similar symptoms to alcohol rehab. When you regain control you see yourself and the world as it is."

He remained silent.

Said the doctor. She saw him just nod at his words, swallowing hard, looking at his hands, seeing with horror that he was picking at the cuticles around his nails creating tiny wounds.

"You mentioned that you consider yourself a toxic person and get into a relationship with such people."

"Yes."

"Why do you judge yourself that way?"

The man asked, and he licked his lips in a quick impatient gesture.

"Because I am cruel to other people. Harsh and vicious."

"Please elaborate on that thought."

For the next half hour he talked about examples of his behaviour, how he despised models making a career out of bed, how deep down he loathed her sister and himself, the business he was forced to be stuck in, full of injustice and discrimination.

She listened to it feeling resentful towards him for deceiving her sister for so long, on the other hand hearing for the first time how Alys addressed him, what the beginning of their relationship was like.

"When I gave her what she wanted she was the sweetest, most submissive woman I knew. But if I didn't, she would turn into a screaming, spiteful creature telling me I was a cunt and a little child, so I didn't leave her hanging. What did she expect, that she would call me that and I wouldn't answer anything? That I didn't know she had nothing more to offer me than her body? What pissed me off about her wasn't that she lacked knowledge, it was that there was no curiosity about the world in her, that she didn't want to expand it, to understand more. Just fucking, partying and posing."

"But you still lasted in that relationship because, from what I understand, you were so comfortable. What changed?" The doctor asked, and she flinched as he glanced at her quickly, immediately looking away, swallowing loudly, terrified of what was about to leave his mouth.

"I think that I'm in love with someone."

She drew in air loudly, feeling tears under her eyelids, her whole body breathless – she felt the heat in her lower abdomen, that embarrassing, sticky wetness between her thighs.

She knew she shouldn't, but when he suggested after the visit that she go to his place, she agreed.

There was a kind of despair in the way he pressed her against the wall with a sudden motion as soon as the door closed behind them, the way his slick tongue forced its way between her swollen lips with his groan of relief, the way, with quick and sure movements, his hands slid the material of her underwear off her, which she threw off her legs with an impatient flick.

She knew she shouldn't, but she felt nothing but delight as he knelt in front of her looking at her with wide eyes. He lifted the material of her dress over her thighs, throwing her hip over his shoulder – she tilted her head back with a soft moan as his lips began to brush and kiss her hot, silky, weeping folds.

"− we can't −" She muttered, but she knew she'd only said it to feel a little less regret that it was so pleasurable, that her fingers clenched on his short hair as he cupped her little clit between his lips and began sucking on it, teasing her pulsing opening with the tip of his tongue again and again.

"− fuck − fuck −" She whimpered girlishly, rolling her hips involuntarily in rhythm with his strokes – a loud murmur of delight erupted from his throat at how much she was leaking, the sound of it running in vibration through her entire body.

"− I could spend all day like this − would you like it? −" He gasped between teasing motions of his tongue pushing its way between her sticky muscles, hot with arousal, a moan bordering on a cry broke from her throat as he began to tease the spongy spot hidden inside her from which his whole corridor seemed blurred to her.

"− stop −" She mumbled helplessly, panting loudly along with him, feeling his words deep inside her – her walls began to clench around nothing. He only grunted at her plea, stopping abruptly, rising from his knees: she settled again on both feet, feeling that her legs were trembling all over.

"− you can leave now, if you want − I won't stop you −" He breathed out, with a quick, sure movement of his fingers undoing the buckle from the belt of his trousers – she looked at him with her eyes wide open, feeling in her mind only that wonderful heat between her thighs.

"− be gentle − be gentle and don't mock me −" She muttered, and he grabbed her by her hair and pulled her close, their lips pressed together in an aggressive, sticky, loud kiss.

She squealed quietly as he lifted her easily, in an involuntary reflex she threw her arms around his neck, enclosing his waist between her legs, his moist mouth smelling of her wetness not pulling away for a moment as his one hand dealt with the material of his trousers and boxers.

The tips of his fingers ran over her cheek, his forehead pressed against hers as she felt the fat head of his cock push in between her weeping folds – they both moaned low, surprised, as his fingers dug into the soft skin of her thigh, forcing her to fit his long, thick erection deeper inside her.

"− fuck −" She whimpered, spreading her thighs wider – he looked down at her with eyes black with desire, his lips parted in a pathetic groan as her leaking walls let him all the way in.

"− god, little one − oh fuck −" He mumbled out with involuntary stabs of his hips thrusting into her as deeply as possible – they both moaned into each other's mouths as his lips pressed against hers again, her hands ran over his hair and down the nape of his neck, answered by his loud murmur of pleasure.

"− I've waited so long for this − you were already wet for me then, weren't you? − you wanted it inside you −" He breathed out, speeding up his pace, each push of his swollen cock teasing again and again the same spot he had squeezed with his tongue earlier, only a helpless moan of pleasure escaping from her chest, their bodies slapping against each other with a loud clicks of her moisture.

"− please − please, please, please −" She babbled between licks of their tongues and lips, his large hands clamped down on her ass, accelerating, the stabs of his hips opening her wide on his length again and again, her walls pulsing against him, sucking him inside.

"− oh, yes, that's it − gonna cum, baby? − gonna cum for me? −" He cooed slammed into her with his cock pulsing with lust. She nodded her head clenching her fingers in his hair, panting hard, and leaned back with a sweet moan as her body shook with convulsions, her walls began to throb and clench against him in pleasure.

"− god, yes − little one − where −" He muttered, and she only managed to whimper for him to come inside her, thanking God for the existence of the pills. She heard his low groan of relief and pleasure, a few messy, greedy thrusts of his hips were enough to make him spill inside her, their bodies twitching and quivering, shocked at how intense this close-up was.

For a long moment they both merely panted and kissed lazily, his hands running over the bare, hot skin of her buttocks, her fingers stroking his hair with his quiet murmur of pleasure.

"− so good − so kind − so pretty −" He hummed between their kisses, stroking the soft skin of her cheek with his thumb, shame overwhelmed her at the thought that she felt butterflies in her stomach at his words.

She knew she shouldn't do this, but she let him take her once more on his bed, his thighs slapping against her buttocks again and again with each desperate thrust of his hips, their naked bodies entwined together in a tight embrace, sweaty and hot.

"− fuck − fuck −" He panted into her mouth between greedy, messy, loud kisses, his wonderful scent filling her entire lungs, her naked breasts pressed against his chest, her fingers digging into the bare skin of his back.

"− mghm − m close −" She mumbled out, her walls oversensitive after her earlier fulfilment, the tip of his swollen cock rubbing again and again the spot inside her from which she felt shivers and tickling, the heat in her lower abdomen unbearable.

"− come on, little one − give me one more − that's it, fuck! −" He gasped loudly and bit his lower lip, trying to stifle the low groan of pleasure that ripped from his throat as her fleshy muscles began to throb in orgasm, sucking him inside.

She tried to push him away, delicate and sore, quivering and writhing beneath him, but he accelerated, slamming into her for a moment more with sure, deep thrusts.

"− I know, baby, just a moment longer − shhh −" He mumbled out before he reached his peak inside her for the second time, a soft, loud sigh of relief and delight escaping his lips.

He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her hair, panting heavily along with her, their skin sticky from sweat and exertion, their hands trailing blindly over their naked bodies, wanting to remember and take everything possible from this moment.

"− stay with me, little one − please, stay with me −" He whispered softly, his voice trembling with emotion, with the feeling that she was going to try again to escape him, what he wanted and what it all meant.

She swallowed quietly and combed her fingers through his hair, looking up at the ceiling with slightly parted lips, breathing loudly, her body at once relaxed from another fulfilment and tense, filled with uncertainty and fear.

He could feel her hesitation – when he heard no response from her he lifted himself slowly on his arms, wanting to look at her face.

"− do you know what the real tragedy of this situation is? − that some part of me reciprocates your feelings − but I don't know how I could ever really trust you −" She whispered in a calm, low tone, feeling a lone tear of regret flow from the corner of her eye onto the pillow under her head smelling of his perfume, the adrenaline and endorphin stopped bubbling through her body, leaving only an emptiness inside her.

"− what I told that doctor is true − I want to change − want to be a person worth loving − I know I screwed up then −" He whispered, stroking her cheek with his large hand – she looked away, feeling her own body tremble, his thumb ran over her soft skin.

She felt him looking at her, completely unsure of what to say, his soft manhood still deep inside her.

He slipped out of her gently after a moment, standing up without a word, grabbing his trousers which were lying on the floor, standing with his back to her, putting them on, not even giving her a single glance.

She stood up too, clenching her lips so tightly that she felt like they were purple, her throat twitching all over in a sob that she didn't let escape, but she couldn't hold back the tears of horror, shame and disappointment that flooded her face.

She didn't look at him when she left, when she ran down the stairs and simply left the building, moving in front of her, trying to think soberly where she was and what bus stop she should go to in order to get home.

She heard a vibration in her backpack after a while, her phone ringing and ringing, but she didn't even take it out, not knowing what else they were going to say to each other.

It was obvious that he had never respected or taken her sister seriously, and while it was obvious that she wanted him, she couldn't believe that the depth of his feelings were actually that great.

She felt that he had talked himself into this feeling, mythologised it and also her character, creating in his mind a tragic story of two lovers who had always been destined for each other, to further distance himself in his mind and mock her sister's personality.

She arrived home pale but refrained from crying in front of her parents – she explained that she felt sick and would go to bed early.

However, not half an hour passed and she heard the screech of tyres on her driveway – she got up to the window and took a few steps backwards, startled to recognise his car, her throat squeezed so tight with fear that she felt like she was going to vomit.

She ran quickly downstairs hearing raised voices, his, her father's and her mother's, her mother clearly outraged at the sight of him and his insolence.

Will he tell them everything?

Will he humiliate her in front of her parents, entertain himself at her expense now?

Will he take revenge?

"How dare you show up here after all this? Have you no shame?"

"Did your younger daughter get home safely?"

"It is none of your business, young man, you are to leave our house immediately!"

Said her mother, enraged and heartbroken, her father threatened to call the police on him, but he lifted his gaze hearing her footsteps and spotted her on the half-floor standing on the stairs.

Something changed in his gaze – she saw that he swallowed hard, in his eyes pain, fatigue, regret and something else from which she ran out of breath.

"Thank you. I've already found out what I wanted." He said lowly, turning and simply walking away, closing the door behind him – her parents looked at her in disbelief, they heard the sound of the engine firing up.

"What did he mean? Why was he asking about you?" Asked her father, and she looked at them with her eyes wide open not knowing what to say.

Did he come just to check that she got home safely?

"After all, this man is unpredictable, look what he did to Alys. He's made her dependent on him, like a parasite he's put the idea in her mind that she won't be able to live without him."

"He goes to therapy. He asked me to go with him. He didn't want to be there alone." She told only part of the truth with shame, having no strength to pretend any longer. Her mother froze, looking quickly at her father and then back at her, her eyebrows arched in disbelief.

"And she did the same thing to him."

"What?"

"Alys was doing the same thing to him. He was showing me messages from her, mum. Sent from her number. That's why I went with him." She mumbled out and burst into sobs again, covering her face with her hand, her pain and regret finding an escape at last.

Her mother seeing her condition moved towards her and hugged her, in her embrace some kind of understanding – her father looked up at her from below with his hands placed on his hips and sighed heavily, shaking his head.

"Alys can't know."

For the next few days neither he nor she made contact. Some part of her was grateful to him for not pressuring her, for letting her put it all together in her head.

She herself did not know what she felt.

On the one hand, caution prevailed in her in his presence – she had the feeling that she was still waiting for some blow from him, an unexpected hit that would break her and prove to herself that he had been playing with her all this time for his own entertainment.

But then she remembered their conversation in the university courtyard, what he had said at the psychiatrist's.

I think that I'm in love with someone.

She read their long exchanges about poets, writers, but also about their thoughts and their lives, trying to find any trace of a lie or manipulation in them, but was pained to find that, although it may have been due to a lack of distance, she did not find it.

She no longer knew what was truth and what was a lie.

The last extra classes of the semester were open lectures she was attending with him – she knew they would be discussing Trans-Atlantyk and she thought maybe that was a sign.

She reasoned that if he didn't turn up it would mean that he had given up, that he had been disappointed with her and got bored and that she could move on at last.

She had arrived earlier than usual, wanting to borrow some books from the library for the holidays. Standing at one of the bookcases she spotted him from a distance sitting alone at a table, bent over a thick volume – even though it was still half an hour to class he was sitting in the same seat as always.

She felt the heat fill her body, her heart began to pound like crazy due to some incomprehensible joy at the sight of him.

She moved towards him with several tomes in her hands and sat down next to him – they did not greet each other, however, she felt his gaze on her, his warm breath on her skin.

She turned her face towards him and noticed that his healthy eye was all red, his lower lip trembling, as if he didn't believe she would come, that he would ever see her again.

Something in that sight, in the tear that ran down his cheek made her lay her head on his shoulder, snuggling her nose into his neck – she heard him draw in air greedily, his hand rose quickly and touched her cheek, his fingers twitching, stroking her soft skin with a gentle, tender motion.

She put her hands around his arm and stayed like that, feeling strangely calm and safe – she felt him place his cheek on the top of her head, she could hear his broken, heavy breath, his lips placing a tender kiss on her hair once in a while.

She turned her face towards him, heard only his quiet, low sigh as their fleshy lips found each other in a sticky, hot, wet kisses, his large hand holding her face in place, not allowing her to move away.

She pulled away from him at last, stroking his well-defined jaw with her thumb, his gaze dark and hot, his lips swollen and red from their caress.

She returned to her earlier position without a word, sinking her face into the hollow of his neck, embracing his arm with her hands – he breathed quietly, sliding it out of her grasp, enveloping her waist with it, pulling her close so that she could hug his chest.

The tips of his fingers traveled down her back as he took the book that lay in front of him from the table top and placed it on his thighs, clearly wanting to simultaneously read on and cover up whatever was going on in his trousers.

They stayed like this until the class began when they finally pulled away from each other – his hand quickly found hers under the table, stroking the top of it with his thumb.

Though doubts still filled her heart, for the first time in years she felt hope.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla

[howlingday]

can you do that part in the World’s End when Gary and the gang confront the Network, but with the Gods instead please?

The World's End - The Network

???: RUBY... ROSE...

Ruby: ...Yeah?

Brother of Light: (As a bright light) Ruby Rose... of the humans?

Ruby: Yeah? Wha- What do you want?

Brother of Darkness: We are here to enable your full potential, just as we have across countless worlds across countless galaxies across countless universes.

Ruby: Uh-huh, and how... How'd you do that?

BoL: (Looking like Ironwood) We appropriate a small percentage of the population at 200 or so penetration points across the planet.

BoD: (Looking like Watts) This ensures maximum coverage. From there, we create simulants to spread our ideologies through peaceful indoctrination.

BoL: (Looking like Ozpin) Our goal is simple. To ready the population for participation in our cross-dimensional community.

BoD: (Looking like Lionheart) This method requires a small sacrifice.

BoL: (Looking like Clover) But the fewer replacements we make, the more successful we consider our operation.

BoD: (Looking like Tyrian) Of course, we welcome those who volunteer themselves.

BoL: (Looking like a hunk) We can offer... attractive incentives for those who willing combine.

BoD: (Looking like a teenager) The chance to be young again, and yet retain selective memories.

BoL: Isn't that something you'd like?

BoD: Something you've always wanted?

"Ruby": (V1, Smiles at 25 Ruby)

Ruby: Oh... Oh my god... I'm... I'm so cute~!

"Ruby": (Speaking as both Brothers) The true beauty of our system is... we all win. There are no losers. (Walks up to Ruby) Let me carry on your legacy and let the woman you've become change into the girl you were.

Ruby: (Smiles, Grabs "Ruby") ...NAH. (Decapitates) THERE'S ONLY ONE RUBY ROSE! (Tosses head)

BoL: THEN YOU HAVE MADE YOUR CHOICE, RUBY ROSE OF THE HUMANS.

Ruby: Yeah, I have! And, even though I'm a little drunk, I have to ask... WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU to come down here and tell us what to do?!

BoD: WE ARE YOUR CREATORS. AND WE ARE HERE FOR YOUR BETTERMENT!

BoL: In the last forty-two years, have you not marveled as informational technology has surged forward?

Ruby: ...No?

BoD: Remnant has grown smaller yet greater as connectivity has grown! THIS IS OUR DOING, AND IT IS JUST THE BEGINNING!

Ruby: Oh, FUCK OFF, you fucking tree babies!

BoL: YOU ARE CHILDREN! YOU REQUIRE GUIDANCE! THERE IS NO ROOM FOR IMPERFECTIONS!

Ruby: Hey, Remnant isn't perfect, and humans aren't perfect, and Faunus aren't perfect, and guess what? I AIN'T PERFECT!

BoD: And therein lies the necessity of this intervention. Must the multiverse be subjected to an entire race of people like you?

Jaune: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Whoa! Who put you in charge?! Huh?! Who are you to criticize anyone?! Now, you might think Ruby's a bit of a fuck-up, and she is a bit of a fuck-up, but she's MY fuck-up!

Ruby: Aw, thanks, Jaune~.

BoL: But she is a detriment to Remnant the same as Remnant is a detriment to it's own galaxy!

Jaune: ...Excuse me?

BoD: You act out the same cycles of self-destruction again and again! At this point, Remnant is the LEAST CIVILIZED of the multiverse!

Ruby: Wait, what did he just say?

Jaune: He's saying we're a bunch of shitheads.

Ruby: HEY! IT IS OUR BASIC RIGHT AS SENTIENT BEINGS TO BE SHITHEADS! THIS WORLD WAS MADE BY SHITHEADS! AND YOU KNOW WHAT?! That makes me PROUD!

Jaune: AND ME!

Ruby: What is it they say? To err is...

Jaune: ...human. To err is human.

Ruby: TOERRISHUMAN! So... Uh... Yeah...

BoL: We do not believe you speak for all of Remnant! You are but two humans! TWO DRUNK HUMANS!

Blake: AND A DRUNK FAUNUS!

Blake: (Rappels down)

Ruby/Jaune: BLAKE! (Hug and cheer)

BoD: ENOUGH!

Ruby/Jaune/Blake: (Continue to celebrate)

BoL: ENOUGH HUMANS!

Blake: FUCK YOU!

Ruby: Oh, you are in trouble now! You're 'bout to go toe-to-toe-to-toe-to- You're about to fight the Three Musketeers!

BoD: YOU ARE REVOLTING AGAINST COUNTLESS UNIVERSES!

Ruby: Yeah, we are revolting!

Jaune: Wait, I just thought of something. You said you're not here to conquer. But how many people did you replace in Shade?

BoL: ...THAT IS IRRELEVANT.

Jaune: Is it?

Ruby: Hands up! Who here isn't infected by an alien little pissant light show?! (Raises hand)

Jaune: (Raises hand)

Blake: ...

Jaune: ...Blake.

Blake: Oh, shit, right, right. (Raises hand)

Jaune: Yeah, three people NOT taken over out of, what, an ENTIRE KINGDOM?!

BoD: Not an ENTIRE Kingdom.

Blake: What even happens to them, anyways?

BoL: Redundant vessels are broken down into basic biological components to be better used as fertilizing mulch.

Ruby: MULCH?!

BoD: It is a relevant few to ensure maximum productivity and a healthy ecosystem.

Ruby: "A relevant few" turned to FUCKING COMPOST!

Blake: And what about the other Kingdoms? Vale? Mistral? I don't think we're the only ones pulling this off, are we? Any other "glitches" in your system?

BoL: It is... true. Our system hasn't been 100% efficient with Remnant just yet.

Ruby: Yuh- You mean you bit off more than you could chew! Ha ha ha!

Jaune: Yeah, because we are more belligerent, more stupid, and more idiotic than you could possibly imagine! And I am NOT just talking about Ruby!

Ruby: Yeah, there's more than one Ruby Rose!

BoD: But you just said-

Ruby: I FUCKING KNOW WHAT I FUCKING SAID!

BoL: YOUR USE OF PROFANITY TO AN EXPLITIVE DEGREE IS EVIDENT TO YOUR PROFOUND IMMATURITY AS A HUMAN AND AS A SPECIES!

Ruby: Why don't you two just get in your rocket and fuck off back to the wherever the fuck you ran off to the last time humanity sent you off crying, you CUNTS!

Blake: YEAH! Stop SDC-ing us, man!

BoD: IT IS OUR DUTY TO CHALLENGE YOU!

Jaune: Just leave us to our own devices, you intergalactic assholes!

BoL: YOU MISUNDERSTAND!

Ruby: Shut up~!

BoD: WE ARE-

Ruby: NOBODY'S LISTENING!

BoL: IF YOU'D ONLY-

Ruby: FACE IT! WE ARE THE PEOPLE OF REMNANT! AND WE DON'T LIKE BEING TOLD WHAT TO DO!

BoD: ...And what is it you want to do?

Ruby: ...We want to be free!

Jaune: Yeah!

Ruby: We want to be free to do what we want to do!

Jaune: Yeah!

Ruby: We wanna get sauced!

Blake: YEAH!

Ruby: And we wanna have a good time! And that's what we're gonna do!

BoL: ...

BoD: ...It's pointless arguing with you. You will be left to your own devices.

Ruby: ...Really?

BoL: ...Yeah.

BoD: Fuck it. (Gone in a flash)

[theanticool]

I think it was MMA junkie made a list of their top 30 UFC fighters, and Bj Penn was number whatever. In the comment section tho was a dude who said, and I quote, "BJ Penn? Really? Was he ever even champion?" Which leads me to 3 points about alot of the modern fan base 1) being a champion isn't everything cuz fans will talk shit anyways 2) most modern fans have zero idea about the history of the sport they watch and 3) the UFC does an awful job honoring it's own history, and an even worse job with the history of MMA

I can't remember where I read this (it might have been like Dave Meltzer or someone similar) but the WWE has this thing where a vast majority of their audience has like a 3 year turnover rate. You get people who gets really into the sport for a few years and then the flame out as they get older, find other hobbies, their favorite fighters fade out, and just generally change as people. MMA is the same way. Most of the audience that was around for BJ Penn's title reign is not around anymore these days. MMA is a burnout sport.

I think there are a bunch of reasons why a lot of modern fans don't know anything about the sport. The UFC does do a terrible job of preserving history. The goddamn president of the company is so quick to call whoever is the champion the GOAT in their division once they pick up a couple wins, it's crazy. The UFC Hall of Fame is really the only connection to the past the UFC pushes and it's almost exclusively for people who are cool with Dana.

It's also because there is no healthy MMA media to help preserve history. To provide historical context. To explain how certain people are significant to the sport. Part of that is because MMA fans have an adversarial relationship with MMA media because Dana White is a shithead who shits on them at any opportunity despite the fact only like 8 people do MMA coverage full time. But also, it's because the only thing driving engagement for places like MMAJunkie and MMAmania are coverage of the 45 UFC events a year. There is no space for looking backwards, because the UFC is a content creation machine first and foremost. And as a result, the only people who succeed in covering the sport are people who are cool with being 'content creators'. Also, the UFC is so stingy with their catalog it's hard putting together retrospectives with fight film and the like.

I also don't think this is a UFC only problem. Being a fan of basketball, I've seen plenty of guys I really liked growing up just be whittled away to stat lines it instead of interesting people with stories, highs and lows, skill sets, and the context surrounding their careers. I think it's just the nature of sports nowadays. Saw someone disrespect Jason Kidd because his stat line looked 'mid' compared to what point guards nowadays put up. It's dumb.

A lot of people nowadays use their ignorance as a weapon and are proud of it. "I'm a fan of this sport and I have no idea who [insert athlete] is, so that means they're nobodies." and you can't really compete with that level of stupid.

[ayotofu]

Imagine if you will (with a lot of hand wavy time changes ofc) that the leverage team during their LA days end up crossing paths with the 118. I just feel like chim and hardison would get along so well. And Bobby and Nate both have the brooding trauma thing but Bobby has actually faced his demons.

This is out of left field sorry i just wanted to think out loud about shoving my two favourite shows together like im five and they’re my barbies

believe you me anon i have IMAGINED THE SHIT outta this :D :D :D

i'm soooooo glad you asked because i've had this fic in the back of my head where hen and karen are like. hey what this councilwoman is doing to us and to our nine year old is fucking malicious and cruel and only possible because she is abusing her power and now she's put hen's old shithead captain (who was REMOVED from the same station for creating a hostile work environment and particularly bullying hen) BACK IN CHARGE, and all of this is super sketchy, but ortiz and gerrard have ALL the power in this scenario. so.

who do they call if not the leverage team?

hen obviously tells chim, who tells everyone else, so when strange people start showing up and doing weird shit, they all collectively decide not to worry about it.

eliot definitely goes undercover at the 118, covering for someone who got a spontaneous all-expenses-paid vacation (hardison tried to send them on a cruise at first, but for some reason they declined). he and eddie instantly bond, macho-to-macho. eliot quickly learns that eddie a) has a kid and b) can't cook very well so decides that he needs to learn so he can feed his kid well. (eddie insists that he's not that bad at cooking jesus but eliot is getting too into it)

buck at one point overhears eliot talking to parker and hardison on the comm and is like "omg, can i try" and annoys eliot until he agrees. buck, it turns out, does not actually know what to say on the comm so he just starts listing facts about famous heists in history while parker gives her opinion on the quality of each of them. "aw," parker says, "you're like a little nerd in my ear" to which hardison says "babe do i mean nothing to you"

sophie tries to work ortiz while nate tries to work gerrard. because of this, nate happens to run into bobby when they were both coming to talk to gerrard (bobby to try to convince him, somehow, to leave vs. nate for the con) and they talk. bobby knows why nate is here (chimney reeeeally can't keep a secret) but that short conversation lets him see in nate all the darkness he's keeping at bay in himself. bobby looks at nate and gets sad because, while nate is functional, that darkness could have been him. nate looks at bobby and gets angry because, while bobby will never be fully healed, that lightness could have been him.

parker works closest with hen and karen. she is furious on their behalf, gets a little too emotionally involved. she's seen a lot of people do terrible things for money and power (she's done some things herself that she's not exactly proud of) but this one hits different. ortiz isn't hurting hen and karen to get more money or power; she's doing it because she wants to hurt them. it's so vindictive. just pointlessly cruel.

and more than that: parker was mara, once upon a time. she was the mara who never really got her hen and karen. she doesn't want another little girl to end up like her. she and sophie are both around ortiz at one point and ortiz says something about mara (such a tragedy, that little girl, abandoned again like it wasn't all her fault) and sophie grabs the pencil out of parker's hand before she can start stabbing.

i don't know exactly how chim and hardison meet, but chimney absolutely starts asking him to hack into random shit. harmless shit. gerrard's email (90% of it was spam emails. chim, delighted, signs him up for hundreds more. mostly gay porn), ortiz's hildy coffee machine (to make it run, constantly, for an hour, spilling hot coffee all over her floor) (eddie hears about it and holds it over buck for weeks because he was RIGHT those things are DANGEROUS)

i don't have a very coherent plot for this but i do think it would be such a fun crossover

[mydysfunctionalvampirefamily]

Now that my secret identity has been revealed (by me) I shall bravely soldier on like nothing has changed and scream into the void.

Wynn! I know subtlety is not your strong suit, but damn.

Look at them! They're actually just talking and not arguing! I'm so proud.

Guys, I'm gonna be real honest. They've been talking for like 10/15 minutes now and I don't really know whats going on, my brain is so tired. I tried relistening. Absolutely nothing was retained. I might have to do this episode again, or maybe just not and see how big of a issue this will be.

So far I know that the sabat is attacking and they are debating what to do.

Johnny asking Miles to be his date. 👀 We all. Know Miles is saying hard to get.

😂😂😂Britta idk what you were expecting they'd say, but I know you didn't expect them to go oh okay no problem, because you're smarter than that.

Britta you cannot stay with Eden, there are people who would be upset. Here in the real world.

I mean Britta or someone needs to reach down deep inside her, if you know what I mean. 😏

This is hard though, because I totally get what Johnny is saying, but my social anxiety is agreeing with Britta. Tbh I'm surprised she hasn't just walked into the sun.

Neil, sweetheart, baby, love of my life. What is going on with you and the obsession with Britta? Like you are grilling her way too hard, and this is not the first time. Is this because she was kidnapped? Idk it's very strange, I can't place it.

Poor Britta, so much has happened to her that I had completely forgotten that Shaw had promised to 'give' her to some Bruja.

Johnny you don't know the half of Britta and Pendragon.

Wynn, you're a goddess for offering to go with Pendragon.

NEIL?!??! WHAT THE FUCK???? Idk if this is confirmation bias or what but you're being so weird about Britta!

Wynn: can we let Britta choose how she comes (to this). 😏 I'm so sorry, I am Really tired.

Neil: Britta, how do you wanna come?😂

Omg Wynn: I like mouth stuff. 😂😂 Thank god I am not alone on this train.

Do aunts and uncles usually talk about sex at thanksgiving???? That feels very unamerican.

Aw Britta I get you, being scared is the absolute worst. And having to do smth you're scared of sucks.

Wynn being her guidance councillor self.

Wow look at Johnny being all tactful and doing this dividing the invitation.

Neil, goddamn that is so sad. Why would Johnny just tell you good luck?? Dude you are a part of this coterie! When will you get that into your thick skull?

Wynn immediately catching it. She had a full time psychologist job with this coterie damn.

Miles just being a shithead: I heard you got invited to a ball recently.

Miles: I am used to being hated. (😭 what is going on you guys??? Youre the best!)

Miles actually thought that Wynn hated him now. Goddamn Wynn, I hope you charge by the hour.

Hell yeah, Britta!! I know this is all under duress, but if you can stop yourself from fleeing the scene when Pendragon shows up (which I wouldn't blame you for, let me be clear) the you're going to do a great job at this rave!

What if Delgado brings Carmen and Britta is going to get sucked into some bisexual maelstrom.

Neil!!! Sweet lord, why does it sound like you exactly know what's going on and yiu just want to hear her say it. Calm down.

Johnny getting a new jacket for Britta without question. 🥰

Neil omg are you seriously going to steal that jacket back??? Is this a weird Britta thing? Or a weird ownership of stuff thing? Or both or neither?

We all knew it, but it's still gratifying to see Miles being a great boy toy.

I don't think anyone has called a Bruja rave a soiree before. Lmao

Lmao Neil being pulled around by Jane.

Okay say what you want but this Rave is making everyone look good!!

Lmaooo Jane just collaring Neil without explanation. 😂

Wait what diablerist?? Ohh because of the trial??

Jane is the best, I love her.

I know it's such a small thing overall, but I love the mount of detail we always get clothes wise. It really helps me visualise, even though my visualisations are often wrong and offend people (see: Johnny's shaved head and Britta's light blonde curls)

Whethers is such a dream boat!

Johnny doing his iron heart thing. 🥰 I know he has done it a few times alrwady but it always warms my heart.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

This is an awful lot of work for one employee...isn't it? What's so special about you that we've got some kind of standoff for your return?

The Riddler: He looked so proud. Posed as though ready for pictures at any given moment. However that was your boss. Every appearance is filled bravado and a performance at that. It was all very surreal, considering he and the other henchmen were there for you. "Last I checked, they were under my employment, not yours. So unhand them now and relinquish them to me." He put a gloved hand to his chest as he grinned. The same hand then extended out towards him, his smile vanished and a look of fury took its place. A dangerous look very few would dare defy. After a rather nasty back and forth. You were relinquished -reluctantly- back to the Riddler. He waited until it was over to lift your chin to meet his gaze. "Did they hurt you?"

Scarecrow: "You know what I want." He was quiet but could be heard behind his mask. His hands were clasped in front of him. "I fear to think what will happen if I don't get what I want." He spoke as if this would have ended any differently. As if he had any different intention than gasing them. He grabbed you almost immediately shielding you with his coat. It wouldn't work like a gas mask but it did buy you time giving a protective wall between you and the gas.

Two-Face: He was repetitively flipping his coin in one hand, his gun in the other hand. He seemed in no mood to negotiate nor for pleasantries. "Heads, I blow your fucking head off. Tails and you don't have a pelvis anymore." He said gruffly. He flipped the coin and covered it on the back of his hand, leaving your captor no choice but to pick one. After the shot was fired, he stormed up to you. "You alright?" Harvey asked as he looked you over. You nodded quickly.

Black Mask: He and his men wasted no time bring guns into the mix. "Let me educate you. This city is mine." He pointed to you. "They're mine." He waved his gun at your captors. "I don't like to share and time is money. So hand them over before I knock your fucking teeth down your throat and have your face peeled off for my entertainment." Roman never waited for anything as the moment you were at a safe distance, he shot your captor in both kneecaps and you still had no idea, later into the night just where your captor was. Roman asked to see you in his office. "Did that shithead touch you?" Roman asked bluntly. "I was punched and slapped a few times but I've definitely had worse. You replied."You good?" He asked. You nodded. "Yeah. Oh and...thanks Boss. Thanks for coming for me." Roman stood up and walked around his desk to approach you before cupping your cheek. "You're very special to me, (Y/N). I'm not letting anyone have anything that's mine, especially what's special to me."

Mad Hatter: The people of Gotham learned quite quickly how much of a threat Jervis could be. Beyond the rhymes and smiles, was a very dangerous person. Although no one would have thought he would notice how many, if any, of his henchmen disappeared. Some dared to say he didn't even know he had them half the time. Yet he proved those people wrong as a rather annoyed Jervis Tetch began to speak. "You can imagine my surprise when one of my little rabbits didn't return for tea." He stared your captor down and continued after a moment. "I believe it would do you well to return my little rabbit to me." After a rather frightening exchange you were returned and later that night Jervis himself asked you how you were. "Oh, uh, I'm okay. Thanks for helping me, Mr Tetch, sir." "It is for the best. My special rabbit does not belong with the rest." He spoke mostly to himself and you had no idea what that meant.

[chaos-monkeyy]

I am also a smut writer but lately I've been really down. I have gotten some comments, just people saying I must constantly have a dirty mind or that they could never think like that or write like that, or they imply that some of the kinks I've written are gross. Others have said I've given myself a reputation now. I don't want a reputation, I just want to be me. I think they are meant to be jokes but it's hurtful. I was wondering if you ever experienced the same thing and how you handled it. Thanks

Hi Anon, sorry for taking a little while to answer 💙 I've been quietly mulling this over in the back of my mind since you sent it, trying to think of something actually useful to say.

First off, I'm sorry the shitheads have got you down. I've been pretty lucky avoiding that nonsense for the most part, but I do know how fucking awful it feels to deal with that sort of thing.

One way I've found to handle it is to be... well, a little arrogant about it all. Yeah, I can write stuff or think things that a lot of other people "never could" because that's.. like... literally what a good writer's job is. (and anyone who thinks we're only capable of writing fictional things we actually want to see or happen for real is a fucking dipshit. but I digress.) Anyway, just because someone meant something like that negatively, doesn't mean they're actually right about it being a bad thing.

I also know for a fact some people think some of my kinks are gross, and.. I mean, that in itself is fair. I think a lot of other people's kinks are gross. One person's kink, another's squick, etc. The difference between being an asshole or not is whether they feel the need to tell you, when they could instead have just... Not... Interacted..... And the assholes can fuck right off. I know it still sucks at the time, and it's hard not to feel down about it, but they're seriously just not worth your time and energy.

As far as the reputation and the unfunny "jokes" go, I don't really have any good way to deal. People like to shove other people in boxes and label them and ignore what the actual person wants, and it's frustrating as hell. Depending how well you know and trust the people making those jokes and comments, it might work to just tell them it hurts to be kind of.. reduced and two-dimensioned like that. You are allowed to be you, and who "you" are in fandom spaces and as a writer is allowed to change over time, too.

I did find that it made a difference when I stopped and took a look at the side of my reputation I'd built for myself. Because for a long time I was the first one to go "oh ha ha I only write filth I can't do *real* story", so that was.. how other people saw me too.

So I did my damnedest to stop doing that, because fuck that.

Fuck the self-deprecating bullshit we're expected to do, as fandom creators generally and as smut and kink writers specifically.

PWP and filth for its own sake IS still a story and it IS still creative and imaginative. You put work into that. Writing smut and kink is not easy to do well. Be proud of what you write, whatever it is. Yeah, it's not gonna be for everyone, and that's how it should be. The world would be a boring fucking place if we all liked the exact same things, and anyone who's a dick to you because the stuff you write isn't perfectly suited to them?

Fuck 'em, they don't deserve your fic.

[hurtyknees]

hey i’m from CA in the US. I’m currently in university and my roommate and her family are from Hungary.

Yesterday she said the most god awful thing like, ever—saying the US should just leave it and abandon Ukraine, and saying that it’s “a shitty little insignificant country”. :/

The fact that she would dismiss an entire COUNTRY with its own culture and language and people, because she’s entitled and has never faced hardship in her life.

People in the US are selfish shitheads. There are people suffering and they as if there’s not a literal fucking war taking place right now.

Oh boy. Where do i even begin.

First of all, a word of an introduction.

If you know me more than one day, you know that i bitch about my country a LOT. I'm Polish and i was never necessarily proud of that fact. There's a ton of things about our history, our current politics, our government, that I'm embarrassed or too angry to talk about.

And for a long time i thought about myself as kind of a nihilist? I used to think that i wouldn't mind if this place just straight up disappeared. I knew that this almost happened back during world war two and afterwards. It's been drilled into my head since I was old enough to walk; world war two, the invasions, my country being basically erased from the map for good. I heard about it so much that i became sick of it and desensitized to it.

It wasn't until recently when I checked myself and realized that no matter how much trauma and anger this place infused in me, and no matter how homophobic, pro-birth, and just plain stupid i think people who rule Poland are. All of that doesn't mean anyone has the right to erase the hundreds of years of culture and history we have.

I can't speak for Ukrainian people. I won't- they're more than capable of doing it themselves, as indeed they do.

I can only speak as someone who has seen and experienced years of generational and collective trauma. Because the damage war is doing to people reaches even the ones living long after it's over.

If we let every "shitty, small, insignificant country" get eaten by a bigger - more aggressive - one, we'd reach the end of humanity far quicker. And even if we didn't, the amount of culture and scientific progress we'd take away from ourselves is unspeakable.

Ukraine has currently 6 winners of the Nobel Prize.

But it's not just that, right? Because there are millions of people all around the world, (millions that never make it to the public consciousness) that create art, cultivate their cultures, or progress in sciences.

Countries don't become valuable the more of their people contribute something useful. We're all inherently valuable because we're born into this world, and we're PEOPLE, for fucks sake. We're all adding something just by being alive and trying to do good.

Someone should tell your roommate that almost 45 milion people lives in Ukraine. If she's ready to abandon all of them, perhaps she should reconsider what she considers "significant".

EDIT: especially since Hungary is about 4 times smaller in terms of population. But it's probably not insignificant to her, because that's where her, her family, and maybe other close to her people are from. Funny how that works.

[seraphic-sapphic-safehaven]

Okay, so, I'm going to my first pride parade/festival tomorrow but I'm horrified to go there. I'm an asexual, and I want to show my ace pride like I should, but I really think people might attack or harass me over it saying I shouldn't be at pride. I'm also a non-binary lesbian, but I'm still scared they won't allow me because I'm ace.. Plus, my pan sister is going too and I know a lot of people still don't like pansexuals either.. I'm afraid there may be violence, so I don't know what to do.

I am so sorry omfg. I’m so sorry that you feel that way. But look: Pride is not Tumblr. Pride is not the Internet. Real life queer communities are not like this hellscape. I’ve never felt unsafe at Pride, and I’m pan and nonbinary. And my wife is a nonbinary lesbian. And we both VERY CLEARLY expressed that verbally and with our appearances & flags. You aren’t likely to get harassed by gatekeeping shitheads at Pride and are even less likely to be physically attacked by them. That shit isn’t allowed at Pride events either, and you’d likely be able to get those people kicked from the event and maybe even arrested, especially if they actually attack you. 

I know people are shitty and say awful things, but please please PLEASE don’t let that stop you from being you, from expressing yourself, and from doing things you want to do. You and your sister deserve to celebrate your identities. You deserve to feel proud and accepted. And I promise you, other queer people are incredibly accepting at Pride. I’ve had so many people come up to me because of my flags, outfit, signs, pins, etc. and be really nice to me and maybe even ask for a picture or a hug. It’s just... really loving and warm at Pride. 

Exclusionists rarely say or do shit at Pride anyways because they’re cowards IRL; that’s why they do all this shit online. Please don’t let them scare you. Please don’t let them stop you from going to Pride. Go there, express yourself, and have fun. You deserve it 💖

[10holmes]

"veganism (aka the definition of compassion) has the single biggest positive impact on several aspects" Okay so I'm not fighting "compassion has positive impact" or even "vegans are compassionate" (because vegans can be a lot of things and I'm sure the vast majority are Not Like What I'm About To Say), but conflating veganism with compassion itself feels off considering I've seen more than one vegan unironically state it'd be ethical/okay to eat disabled people. We're lower than animals, I guess

Well, my answer to that would be that those crazy people are clearly not vegan because a true vegan mindset is founded on having and displaying unlimited kindness and compassion towards all beings whether it be non-human or humans to the best of your ability.

I guess those people are most likely White vegans because sadly White veganism is a thing that is going rampant on social media, and many (supposedly) vegan "spokespersons" that have made themselves a name or fame regrettably display this kind of thinking...

They are only focusing on the animals but ignore humans and their diverse issues, and that some aspects in the fight for animal liberation can be very much out of our own control as animal agriculture is still a systemic issue, even quite deeply related to racism and capitalism and even misogyny and, yes, also very much ableism, which all feeds into each other...

And, often, these people are also just so caught up in their anger and frustration at this cruel and fucked up system but they falsely turn that anger against other humans...

I'm not proud to say this, but in my early stage of going vegan, I was similar... Not really invested in many of the issues other humans faced because I believed they paled to what we do to animals...

Because, at first gaining all that new insight, it's just so overwhelming to realise you've been lied to all your life and financially supported such cruelty throughout the world against innocent animals and other people...

And then you immediately realize, hey! you have the means to change and make things better and stop all this cruelty....

But then you suddenly see yourself confronted with so many hurdles and people that ridicule and hate on you for wanting to change and go up against the system, and you just can't understand why they won't support you and change as well, when all the information is out there! When you thought them to also be compassionate and kind!

So now you are hurt that they won't show that kindness and compassion to all these beings you know are daily exploited and dying... And it just accumulates into such deep anger, frustration and hatred...

And some people just don't manage to disconnect from that hatred and anger and they don't put things into perspective and realize that it's not actually the people you're angry with but the system for being so damn awful it brainwashed billions of people into cognitive dissonance and that's where the actual issue lies...

No excuse for being an ableist, even fashist, shithead and these people definitely need to be called out and forced to reflect themselves.

This was supposed to show where that mindset and attitude may come from and why some of the more vocal "vegans" can be problematic and shouldn't be taken as a valid argument against the whole vegan movement and the base of what veganism is. The definition of veganism is clear, these people just haven't fully grasped it regrettably...

[mysplaced-pen]

Hihi, glow in the dark stars anon here, once again ^^. I've noticed you wanted requests so I'm gonna send you one! How about an MC who is very innocent and sweet but as soon as their older brother comes into town, they become a fowl-mouthed memer and is constantly making jokes, and how would the RFA + V + Saeran react to such events. Sorry if it doesn't make sense;; (by the way how was your day? Oh, and keep up the good work my dude !!)

hey stars anon!(that’s your nickname now bc i love ya~)  my dude, you are like, my favorite anon?? you come up with great ideas wowie wow!! this is me but with my pals..im an only child;;

my day - well yesterday - was good. busy, but good! i’m finally getting over this weird cold. how was yours? ^^ and thank you, again! (/◔ ◡ ◔)/

zen

mc told him their brother was coming to town all excitedly and that they wanted zen to meet him. he agreed. family is important to him! ..yes im still salty about his family¬_¬

also this is like, the first time he’s gonna meet mc’s family its time to Impress

so they go, and zen really doesn’t know what he’s expecting besides hoping their family likes him 

their parents were kind of how he thought - nice and sweet, asking him questions

and then their brother came 

“mc!” their brother called. he was answered with a hug from them aw sweet not for long, zenny

“hey you nerd!” mc started, and then it pretty much went from there 

zen wasn’t really surprised at all the inside jokes they had, but there was? so many?? he had never seen mc make this many jokes

also did mc just say ‘fuck’? he was pretty sure he never heard them say ‘damn’ and now they upgraded to all this??

oh well, their brother liked him 

when they left, he got kind of pouty 

“babeeee do you feel uncomfortable around me?” “what do you mean?”

“you don’t curse and joke that much with me, and you can, you know!” 

he just wants to have as many inside jokes   

yoosung

they were meeting up with mc’s brother for lunch!

he wasn’t going to be in town long, but mc was still so excited

yoosung thought they looked so cute all excited and now he is too

they got to the restaurant first and waited 

mc’s brother found them at the table and shook yoosung’s hand before hugging mc

“well now you have to tell me everything about your boyfriend, my dear sibling. and if i have to send him back to hell.”

*cue a slightly scared yoosung*

“i’ll tell you he’s better than that shithead you dated last year.” 

*cue a surprised yoosung now*

who are you and what have you done to my mc?

things continued this way, and they even started laughing at memes together

they made one of their brother’s old girlfriend…ok that one was funny

after lunch, yoosung kind of observes them for a while 

they stumble while walking once and mutter, “oh dang-”

mc when your brother accidentally kicked you under the table, you said something much worse 

oh well, he’s happy he got to see a new side of mc

jaehee

their brother dropped by the cafe right after they closed, but of course they let him in

jaehee made him a cup and he said it was the best coffee he’s tasted

“is your tea this hot too?” he asked

she was about to answer seriously, but mc knew better 

“it sure as hell is, and i have so many stories to tell you”

jaehee’s like: …how did we get from tea to stories

and then mc starts telling him about all the shit i apparently put the cafe through stories of customers and stuff

it was the same stories mc and her told everyone, but mc added more emphasis and..curse words in this retelling

if jaehee could become her question mark emoji, she would right then

at one point, mc told her to come sit with them 

so she did, sitting next to mc

“there’s one last thing I haven’t told you, dear brother.” they say 

but before they continue, they kiss jaehee’s cheek. “meet my girlfriend”

on the inside, jaehee was yelling because girlfriend!! but also cause she thought he knew– 

their brother paused for a minute before whispering, “et tu, brute?” 

and that’s how mc and jaehee found out their brother is also gay wow 

jumin

he invited their brother to the penthouse

he brought out the fancy wine, elizabeth was on her best behavior, things were good

and mc’s brother was nice and seemed to like him 

so all in all, the evening went well

except that jumin spent almost half of the evening being confused

because first off, when did mc get such a foul mouth what the he ck 

and second, what is a ‘meme’? 

“woah, wait. your boyfriend doesn’t know what a meme is, mc? hm…i dunno if i like him”

“calm your tits, brother. memes aren’t everything.” are u sure, mc?

 jumin is lowkey like ‘how can he calm his tits wtf’

anyways, mc’s brother assures that he was kidding and that he actually really likes jumin

who’s the real winner now

when their brother left, mc went back to being the innocent mc he knew

“…my love?” “yes, jumin?” “what just happened?”

he’ll get used to it

707 / luciel / saeyoung

when they told him their brother was in town, he yelled for a little bit

how is this dork gonna impress mc’s family?

decides he needs to clean the bunker 

amazingly, he does it without vanderwood’s help a miracle

almost puts on a suit, but mc stops him

when their brother came over, mc’s attitude completely changes

and saeyoung just observes them for a while and realizes what he has to do

it’s literally just channel the 707 attitude. which he is an expert in doing

and now…let the memes begin

oh, mc’s brother likes this guy

it goes better than expected. they’re practically best friends now 

the only thing is, saeyoung doesn’t curse that much

so after their brother leaves, he’s like “mc, i didn’t know you had such a potty mouth!” 

watch them feign innocence for a bit

it doesn’t work, but everyone’s still happy

v / jihyun

came over to mc’s apartment to find their brother with them

it was a surprise

“oh, nice to meet you!”. they all sit and chat

v could’ve sworn he heard mc threaten their brother not to make any blind jokes

something along the lines of  “make one blind joke and so help me, i will fucking murder you”

v feels like he should be scared

there are no blind jokes, but there are a lot of memes

which he also doesn’t understand that well, but he catches on faster than jumin

“mc, I need to teach your boyfriend the art of memes.” 

ooh now v is really scared

but it goes better than he expected

his favorite ones are now the bee movie memes and ‘bees?’

he tried it once with the whole rfa around, like jumin asked when the next party date was and he just looked at him and went: “bees?”

mc was so proud. jumin felt betrayed. saeyoung lost his shit.

they got that on video and when they showed their brother: “mc, marry this man right now”

saeran 

they met at mc’s work

saeran was picking them up and they ran into mc’s brother

“oh! i didn’t know you were back in town!” “yeah. surprise!!”

saeran is like lowkey scared at first

but then the Truth Is Revealed

and now he almost hates himself

why is he always stuck with the memers

even mc got pulled into this, his one saving grace

though he found it kinda hot when they cursed, he just wanted to kiss them

heyy bringing back my saeran is ace headcanon haha no smut for you

anyways, though saeran doesn’t like memes, he understands them and can joke with mc’s brother

mc’s brother likes him

when he leaves, saeran is so glad they’re back to the mc he knows more

except like, hey, maybe curse more

they end up doing so when they figure out they get more kisses that way