#I think when you could see all of them at the same time they went scrongly on that lighting

[emberuby]

it's always been you | s.jy

pairing: sim jake x reader

summary: jake is your best friend of over a decade, and you lose your mind when he gets asked out on a date.

warnings: university setting, roommate! jake, childhood best friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, unprotected sex, hardom! jake, sub! reader, degredation, possessiveness, spanking, fingering, overstimulation, vaginal sex, cream pie, implied breeding kink, angst, misunderstanding, fluff.

note: this was originally meant to be a jungwon fic but i though jake fit the vibes more. also the ending is based off a rom-com, and if you have watched it you will definitely be able to tell what it is. also, some of the scenes are based off the addicted series by kristie and becca richie.

wc: 4.0k

This was your fault, really. You knew you had no right to be mad that Jake was seeing other girls. He didn’t have any obligation always to be there to look after you like he used to. 

The walls at your shared apartment were thin, and it’s not like it was all that large, so you could clearly hear him and his date laughing and eating the dinner he made them. 

If you remembered correctly, she asked him out a week ago after his Physics lecture. Jake told you he noticed her staring at him since the beginning of the semester, chuckling to himself. You pretended to laugh alongside him, trying your best to hide your panic at the thought of him accepting a proposal from her. Sarah, you think her name was. Or Sanah? You groaned and rubbed your forehead.

He always made meals for you, and as much as you knew you were being ridiculous, it made you feel like he didn’t care about you anymore now that he was so preoccupied with another girl. Your mind started to spiral into what the future could be once he got serious about his relationship with her. He’d probably stop spending time with you, move out of your apartment, or make you find another place to stay at. 

You and Jake have been best friends for over twelve years, and all you have ever known is him. You practically lived at each other’s houses growing up, and didn’t hesitate to move in together and attend the same university. He was your shoulder to cry on when a boy broke your heart, when your grandfather passed away, and you failed an important exam. He was always there. You had no idea how you would cope without him.

You slammed your pillow onto your face and screamed. God, you were being so ridiculously dramatic. You had to grow up and accept that Jake does not belong to you. 

You dressed into your casual errand clothes and quietly walked out of your bedroom. You definitely needed some air to think, and you couldn’t handle hearing one more giggle coming from Jake’s new girlfriend’s mouth. You knew he wasn’t that funny, so why on earth was she laughing so much?

You were crouching down slightly and tip-toeing through the main hall of your apartment, hoping to leave without the two lovebirds noticing you. You were just at the entrance putting on your running shoes when you heard, “Hi! Y/N, right?” You turned around to face the girl that has been haunting your thoughts for the past few days. She was fucking gorgeous, with a warm and kind smile. God, you hated how insecure you began to feel.

“Hello! Uhm…,” Your voice was shaky, and you couldn’t find it in you to look at her eyes. You noticed Jake behind her in the kitchen, washing their dishes. He looked slightly concerned at your state but didn’t say anything.

“Sanah! My name is Sanah. Jake has told me a lot about you. I heard you guys grew up in the same town. That’s so cool! Most of my friends from back in town went overseas for uni so it’s been quite hard to make friends here,” Sanah sighed. You hated how nice she was. You wish she would just glare at you and make catty comments so it would be easier to hate her, but no, Jake had to choose the most perfect girl in the entire fucking university. 

“So where are you off to, Y/N?” Sanah asked.

“Oh…I-I’m just going out to…to get some groceries. We’re running low on a few things,” you stumbled on your words like an idiot.

“I stocked up on everything yesterday, don’t worry about it,” Jake said from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. 

“We-well, uhm…I’ll just go get some snacks then,” your hands were already on the door knob.

“It’s okay, I bought your favourite. The strawberry muffins, right? They’re in the pantry.”

You gulped, and your eyes were looking around for a way to escape. Jake started walking up towards you and Sanah, but you couldn’t be around this any longer. Your hands were shaking, and you opened the door abruptly, “Uh, yeah. Well, I-I just…I’ll get going, bye.”

You walked out of the apartment and down towards the elevator at the end of the hallway. You sighed with relief but you were also sweating from stress. You hated how you acted back there, like a complete bitch. You put your face into your hands, thinking of how Sanah probably hates your guts now and Jake is going to refuse to talk to you for days for utterly embarrassing him. 

You finally walked into the elevator, but just as the doors were about to close, a strong arm stopped it, followed by Jake stepping into the space. His hair was a mess, likely due to him running the length of the hallway to get here. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he was looking at you with a completely still face. He faced away from you to press the close button.

“Jake?!” You gasped, “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to check on you,” Jake murmured. 

“I’m okay, I’m fine. What the fuck? Go back. Did you seriously just leave Sanah alone?”

“I told her to go home,” he casually put his hands in his pocket, like he wasn’t being completely absurd. Your eyes widened in shock.

“You’re not serious.”

“Deadly,” he smirked.

“Jake, this isn’t a joke. Why would you do that? I’m just going out to get some food—”

“That’s bullshit. I mean, you’ve been acting so weird for the last week. You didn’t talk to me for the entire day, and then you act like that around a girl I bring home? You barely looked me in the eyes for the past few days. I know you, Y/N, you looked devastated. I had to put an end to it,” His eyes were pleading for you to explain it. Explain why you were acting like a madwoman, because you knew all he wanted to do was fix it.

“It’s nothing.”

“I know it’s not nothing! Talk to me, Y/N,” He reached out to hold your hands. They were rough and calloused, but so damn warm, and it made you never want to let go. “You always tell me how you feel, so why are you hiding now? I feel like I’m losing my mind. I can’t handle this distance between us, so tell me. I’m begging you.”

“I…,” you began. And there it was, you were going to tell him the one thing you promised to never do. 

You wouldn’t be heartbroken if Jake didn’t reciprocate your feelings, even if you would be slightly hurt. No, your nightmares were instead filled with thoughts of him leaving you. Of him getting uncomfortable, and disgusted at the thought of you having feelings for him. You were afraid of losing your soulmate because you were stupid enough to fall in love with him.

“You..?” Jake raised his eyebrows in curiosity and concern.

“I was jealous, okay? There, I said it. I was so fucking jealous because I’m in love with you, Jake, and have been for the past two years,” your eyes began tearing up ever so slightly, “and I know you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay. I wanted to be okay with it, but I don’t think I can handle seeing you with another girl. I know I’m being stupid, but I’ll find a way to deal with this, okay? I don’t know if you even want to keep being friends with me, I just—,” Your stammering was halted by Jake’s lips slamming on yours. 

Your back was suddenly pressed against the mirror at the back of the elevator, and you felt Jake grab your waist with one hand and hold your face with his other. It wasn’t soft like you always imagined your first kiss with Jake to be. It was rough, fast, and hard. You felt his tongue plunge into your mouth, and you couldn’t breathe. 

You were gripping his shoulders, nails clawing at the fabric of his shirt. You tried your best not to make any noise, knowing how mortifying it would be, but when he pressed his thigh against your core, a soft moan managed to escape your lips. You could feel yourself getting wet just from the kiss, and you felt yourself becoming lightheaded. The moan seemed to have gotten Jake going because he began grinding his thighs harder on you. 

He began to slow down, intertwining his hands with yours. He slowly let go of your lips, not before he nipped your bottom lip, and pressed his forehead against yours, letting out a sigh.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that, baby,” Jake whispered.

You two stared at each other for a few moments, with you not knowing what to say. Your mind was running laps, and you were afraid the next thing that came out of your mouth would make no sense, so instead you were just breathing, loudly and quickly. 

“I can’t believe you would even think I didn’t love you back. I mean, how could you be so stupid?” Jake asked, “You say you’ve been in love with me for two years, but try eight. You have been the love of my life for eight fucking years. I loved you before I even knew what it meant. What you felt today, I felt for eight years watching you get chased around by guys who were never good enough for someone as perfect as you.”

You were fully crying now, and his hands went up to your cheeks to rub the tears off them. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay,” He said before placing a firm kiss on your forehead, “I’ll never let anything hurt you. It’s always been you, okay? You’re mine now,” he began gently rubbing your back.

Throughout all this, his thighs were still pressed up against your cunt, “Jake, can we go back home?” You asked, looking up at him with shiny doe eyes that made him weak in the knees. You were desperate to get back to your apartment so you could finally calm down and properly talk to him.

Jake grinned, knowing from your blushing face and your nervousness that you were horny beyond your own comprehension. He pushed his leg up to tease you even further, surprising you and eliciting a whimper from your lips, much too loud for your liking. 

“I’ll take you home, don’t you worry your sweet head. It’s a real shame we didn’t say anything earlier. You don’t know the things I would’ve done to hear you make those noises when I was younger,” he whispered into your ear, making you grip harder onto him, afraid that if you were to let go of him you’d collapse onto the floor. 

The elevator door opened to reveal your neighbour. Jake quickly let go of you, still holding onto your waist to help steady you. He acted as if nothing had just transpired, and beamed his charming smile towards the elderly lady standing in front of you, “Good evening, Mrs. Kim!” 

You were lying on Jake’s bed, his lips sucking on your neck and your legs wrapped around his waist. Your mind has been so hazy that you can’t even remember how you got here. Thanks to Jake, your jeans have been discarded on the floor, leaving you only in your panties and your thin white shirt. 

You tapped Jake on the shoulder, “Jakey,” you said breathily, “are you going to make love to me?”

Jake’s corner of his lips raised to form a devilish smirk, “As much as I’d love that, baby, I really should punish you for the way you’ve been acting. You should’ve known better, I hate being ignored. Would you say you’ve been acting like a good girl recently?” 

“No…I-I guess no-not,” you drawled, body shaking. 

“I don’t plan on going soft on you tonight, sweetheart. You know what a safe word is, right?” He asked, making you nervously nod. If he had to ask you about a safe word, you knew your mind and body would be broken by the end of the night. It made you weirdly excited. “If at any point it becomes too much for you, you can either tap me three times or say Red, you got that?” 

You nodded again, making Jake spank the side of your thigh, followed by a yelp from you.

“Words, baby. I need you to use them, or is your mind already not working properly after barely kissing?” His voice was husky.

“Yes, Jake. I understand,” you managed to spit out.

He immediately went on to strip you of your shirt and your bra, leaving you with only your dark lace panties. He turned you around on your stomach and laid your hips over his lap, leaving your ass on display for him. He took a handful of your ass and began to kiss you up and down your spine, asking you, “Pick a number, baby.”

“Twenty-three?” 

You yelped when you felt his hand roughly come in contact with your ass, leaving a stinging sensation behind, while also dampening your panties further, even though they were already soaking. Before you could even catch your breath, he spanked you again, harsher than before. 

“Twenty-one to go, baby,” he said, and even though you couldn’t see him, you were sure he was grinning ear to ear. 

He was surprisingly quick with carrying out his punishment. At this point, he was getting more and more desperate to get his dick inside you, and although he enjoyed punishing you, he knew he’d have plenty of more opportunities in the future to carry them out slower. 

Your ass was bright red, and you were wondering how on earth you were going to be able to sit down tomorrow, or for the few days after that. You hissed when you felt his warm hands come down to rub your abused skin. 

You began to mewl as he pressed started rubbing his thumb on your clit, feeling the friction of the laced fabric of your panties, making you roll back your eyes in pleasure. “God, did you get this turned on by me punishing you? I mean,what’s the point in doing it if you enjoy it so much?” He asked, “I wouldn’t have expected you to be such a whore that gets this wet after being spanked. I would tie you up and punish you further, but you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He began rubbing harder, and eventually moving your panties to the side, sliding in his ring and middle fingers. 

You mewled at the sensation of his fingers stretching you open. You wanted so desperately to turn around so you could see his beautiful face while he was ruining your body. You were becoming so desperate that you began thrusting back onto his fingers. 

“Fuck, look at you, you desperate cock slut. I think you’re all ready to take my cock.”

“Please, fuck me. Please,” you begged, making him take his fingers out of you, much to your protest. Your insides were clenching at nothing as you were desperate for something to fill you again, preferably his cock. He turned you around so you were finally facing him, back resting on his plush mattress. 

He ripped your panties off, throwing them to the floor, followed by taking stripping himself off his clothes, but before you could even take a look at it, he plunged his cock deep inside you. It was huge. Like really huge. Your back arched off the bed, as Jake slowly started moving in and out of your cunt, your moans becoming louder and louder.

“You’re so good at taking my cock already, yeah. Just like that baby,” he was gripping your hips harshly, which was definitely going to leave a bruise for tomorrow, “Your cunt was made for me, princess.”

“P-Please don’t stop, J-Jake,” you whined, unable to keep a steady voice as his cock kept hitting all the right places inside you.

“I have no plan of doing that anytime soon,” Jake was getting rougher by the moment, speeding up his thrusts, and your mind began fogging up, not being able to handle the mixture of pleasure and pain. 

"I'm go-gonna...I'm gonna cum," you managed to cry out, weakly placing a hand on his chest. However, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above you. 

"Go ahead baby, cum for me," his voice was breathy. He once again began rubbing your clit with his thumb, giving you the final push before your toes curled in as an orgasm washed over you, making you roll your eyes back. Jake felt like he could've cum just by the sight of your body during your release. You looked like a goddess, your body on full display, shining with the sweat of your exhaustion. Your eyes were sultry, squinting slightly, and your body was shaking.

He didn't stop, however, chasing his own release now that he knew he managed to satisfy you. You began sobbing underneath him, "S-sensitive. Baby, p-please...p-please slow down," your eyes were shiny and pleading.

"Not a chance," Jake groaned. Your tits were bouncing as he kept thrusting harder and harder, and you were babbling incoherently as your mind slowly stopped working. A white ring formed around the base of his cock due to your release, making him even harder, if that were possible. 

"I'm going to cum inside you, okay?"

Your eyes lit up at that, and a small smile formed on your lips, much to Jake's amusement. "P-Please, Jake. Please come inside me."

You suddenly felt his seed spill inside you. It felt heavenly and warm, and you never wanted to let go, even with how sensitive your cunt became. The feeling of his seed inside you, filling you to the brim, caused you to orgasm once more, alongside him riding out his own. 

"Fuck, did you cum again?" Jake asked, feeling your cunt clenching around him again, and you nodded softly, your body beyond exhaustion. You weren't sure if you could move at this point. 

He stayed inside you but leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead and rub your hair. "You're already glowing, you know?" You blushed at him saying that. He chuckled at you, "Oh, so you get shy on me now? You were begging me to cum inside your cunt barely two minutes ago and now you're getting all shy?" He teased.

You giggle at him. "I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you whispered, "Hopefully my stamina will be better next time." 

You were startled by Jake's sudden burst of laughter and were confused as he began brushing the hair out of your face and kissing your forehead. 

"Is something wrong, Jake?" You asked.

His grin was still wide, "Nothing is wrong, princess. I just can't believe you think I'm done with you."

You woke up to the feeling of strong arms wrapped around your torso firmly, and Jake’s breath fanning the back of your neck. A little bit of sunlight was peaking through the curtains of his bedroom and you could hear the sound of traffic coming from the outside. 

You placed a kiss on Jake’s hand, groaning as he pulled you closer to him, your body jolting in pain at every slight movement. “Jake, I’m sore, be careful,” you said with a raspy voice. You definitely damaged your vocal cords after yesterday’s activities. 

You could hear Jake chuckle being muffled into your skin, as he was peppering kisses all over the back of your head, neck, and chest, “I guess that was my fault, sorry.”

God, his low morning voice was so attractive. If you had more energy in you, you would have pounced on him now and started bouncing on his cock the way you wish you could’ve yesterday. You needed to have a conversation with him about letting you be on top next time. 

He was rubbing your hips now, trying to soothe the bruises and the marks left all over your body. “I don’t think I even have any clothes that can cover up all these hickeys,” you sighed disappointedly. 

“You could just walk around like that, no? Show everyone how I made you mine last night, and how you’re off limits now.”

“Jake, it’s been a day and you’re already getting this possessive?”

“Can’t help it. My girlfriend is the most perfect being in this world. I’ve had to fend off guys from you since we were kids, and I don’t plan on stopping,” he mumbled into your shoulder blade. 

“Girlfriend?” You asked slowly and timidly.

“What, would you rather be my wife? I wouldn’t mind that either. We could have a wedding on a beach like you’ve always wanted. We could move into a big house in the suburbs, and settle down. I could get you pregnant with my kids,” you felt his erection stiffen as he said that, and continued, “Five minimum, I’m thinking,” he chuckled. 

You slapped his arm and groaned, “Jake! It’s way too early for that, you know that,” you couldn’t help but smile to yourself though. 

Jake laughed at your whiny voice, “Okay, okay. I guess girlfriend will work, for now.”

“Yeah, I like that, boyfriend,” you giggled, finally turning around to face him. 

He pecked your lips before saying, “You know, I actually have a story to tell you.”

You nodded in response, giving him the go-ahead.

“Yesterday wasn’t our first kiss,” he said with a reminiscent smile on his face.

You raised your eyebrows, having absolutely no idea what he was talking about, “What do you mean?”

He began brushing your hair out of your face before continuing, “On your eighteenth birthday, you remember how I took you out to the club because you could legally drink then?” 

You nodded. You apparently had so much vodka that night that you ended up in the toilet with a stressed-out Jake holding back your hair as you emptied out the contents of your stomach for fifteen minutes. 

“You don’t remember much from that night, so I had to explain to you most of what happened, but I kept out one key detail. After you had your,” he looked around as he was wondering for a number, “sixth shot of vodka, I believe, you pulled me up to the dance floor and kissed me, right before you fainted and fell on your ass in front of everyone.”

“You’re joking!” You screeched.

“It happened! I remember it like the back of my hand. I mean I planned on getting drunk with you but after seeing how fucked up you got I couldn’t get myself to drink more than a beer, so I remember it all,” he laughed to himself. He thought of how his eighteen-year-old self would be so proud to know that you were finally his. 

“God, that’s humiliating. Why didn’t you say anything?” You pressed your face against his chest, trying to hide away from him in shame.

“I didn’t want you to react like this. I know you're embarrassed but, I couldn't think about anything other than that kiss for the next few weeks. A part of me was relieved you didn't remember it, but a part of me wishes you did. Maybe we wouldn't have gotten into that mess yesterday if we just realized our feelings earlier," he pondered. 

You leaned up to kiss his cheek, "Don't think about that, okay? Let's not focus on the past because right now, all that matters to me is that you are here and in my arms. And I'm never letting you go, Jake," your eyes went sparkly in the way that always caused Jake to become weak.

"Fuck, I love you so much," he whispered, placing a kiss on your lips once more.

[aphel1on]

the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.

the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)

both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!

and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.

that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".

and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.

this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.

a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.

it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.

there's several things to note here:

thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder

eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble

they're not actually eating anything.

those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.

it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.

but even that last happened a long, long time ago.

this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.

paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.

he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.

isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.

thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.

when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.

i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.

therefore replacing eodio with a creepy doll and casually forgetting it isn't real.

thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.

yet still...

he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.

this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.

all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.

[g-hughes]

[ NUZZLE ] sender presses their face into receiver’s neck

quinn hughes bringing his girlfriend home to meet his family and he has never brought home a girl before so his family knows she must be very very special and he is always talking about her! it’s very sweet and soft and she just fits in the family so well and makes quinn so happy

A Keeper - Q. Hughes

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celly

synopsis: Quinn finds himself at the lake in the off season, and this time, he isn't flying solo

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none! losing game seven

For as long as Quinn could remember, his whole life revolved around hockey. He’d wake up, eat a quick breakfast, go to hockey practice, shower, eat lunch, sit and watch film, come home and take a nap, then go back for another practice or a game. Everything he has ever known has been hockey. Hockey took up every moment of his life, every single thought. 

But since that buzzer went off signaling the end of the final period of game seven, Quinn couldn’t think of hockey anymore. 

He wasn’t the type of guy to cry, well, not in public at least. But standing on the ice at that moment, staring up at the scoreboard and seeing the final score, he felt that all too familiar burn behind his eyes and in his nose. He glanced around at his teammates, all of them wearing the same shocked and sad expression on their faces. He didn’t dare look over at Arty, knowing that the young goalie was going to be feeling this loss harder than anyone on the team, even though they all played in the game.

You stood off to the side as Quinn answered a couple of questions for the press. Your heart was also feeling heavy and you had that same all too familiar feeling of unshed tears in your eyes. You were so incredibly proud of your boyfriend and his team. The way they were able to turn everything around from the previous season and give Vancouver a play-off berth in over a decade was something to celebrate about. And, even with that knowledge, all you wanted to do was pull Quinn away from the press and give him a hug and a thousand kisses. You could tell just by looking at him he was physically and mentally exhausted. But Quinn wasn’t going to be rude and brush off the media, he was the captain. He would gladly stand and answer the dumb “how are you feeling after the loss?” question so his guys can go home and rest.

When Quinn was done, he silently walked over to you, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers together. He silently led you towards the parking garage, wanting nothing more than to speed out of Rogers Arena and back home to your shared apartment. It was as if the fans knew that he wasn’t in the mood to stop and sign autographs like he usually did, instead they all seemed to give him space as he left the rink. 

The two of you seemed to move in silence as you walked into your apartment. You took Quinn’s bag from his hand, as he walked towards the bedroom. You were putting his clothes into the washer when you heard the shower turn on. You laid out a pair of sweatpants for him to put on when he was done, and went to start making him some tea. By the time he was done showering, you were sitting up against the headboard, scrolling briefly through social media, with a mug of camomile tea in your other hand. He quietly crawled into bed, and you shifted so he could lay down next to you. You held your arms open as he laid his head down on your chest. 

“I’m proud of you,” You said, running your hands through his hair. 

“Even though I lost,” He muttered. 

“You might’ve lost this one,” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, “But you’ve won so much more.” 

He looked up at you, tired green eyes locking on yours, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Q.”

— — — 

You were a ball of nerves. 

You had never been the type to get nervous. Usually, you were so sure and confident in yourself, but there was something about flying across the continent to meet your boyfriend's family that had your stomach in knots. Quinn had assured you that there was nothing to worry about, that they already loved you. 

Ever since you landed back in Michigan, it was like the weight of the world had been lifted off of Quinn’s shoulders. You guys stuck around for a couple of days after the loss, Quinn having to do exit interviews and pack up his things. Quinn only packed one bag to go back to the lake (oh, and his precious golf clubs), while you seemed to pack your whole closet. Quinn couldn’t help but laugh at you as you were quickly shifting clothes from your suitcase to his in the middle of the airport because your bag was over the weight limit. 

“I should’ve told you that we could go shopping when we get here,” He said, one hand on the wheel and the other one intertwined with yours, “Get you a whole new closet to keep here for when we come back next summer.” 

“Okay mister ‘i make eight point six million a year’,” You playfully rolled your eyes, “And who says I’ll be invited back next year?” Quinn gave you a look, “What?!”

“You’ll be invited back next year,” He chuckled, “There’s only ever been one person I didn’t want to invite back.” 

“Hey, that’s not nice. Trevor is a nice kid,” Quinn shook his head with a laugh, “But I’m serious. What if your family doesn’t like me and doesn’t want me-” 

“They are going to love you, Y/N,” Quinn pulled your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it, “They have been begging me to fly back so that they can meet you. My mom has been sending me texts and asking me about your favorite foods and hobbies and card games.” 

You couldn’t help but blush and look down at your lap. You haven’t met Quinn’s family before, but from what he described, you can tell that they are very close. Quinn talks to his middle brother, Jack almost every day on the phone, and either texts Luke or calls him a couple times a week. He values his time with his family almost as much as he values his time on the ice with his teammates. 

“And here we are,” Quinn announced as he pulled into the driveway of a beautiful two-story lake house. Excitement and anxiety filled your body, making your stomach turn. Your hands felt sweaty as Quinn jumped out of the driver’s seat and the front door opened at the same time. A boy with longish brown hair and a similar face to Quinn came rushing out of the house, barefoot and shirtless. 

You watched as the two men embraced each other in a hug, another boy walking out of the house. He was slightly taller with curly hair, but had those same dark eyebags as Quinn. You slipped out of the car, walking up to the three boys who were engaged in a conversation. It was like Quinn had a sixth sense for you being near him, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, easing some of your nerves. 

“And who might this be?” The long haired boy asked, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“This would be my girl,” Quinn looked at you, “Y/N,” Heat arose in your cheeks as he looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon. 

“Well I’m Jack,” The long haired boy said, holding his hand out to you. You chuckled nervously, shaking his hand, “And it's a pleasure to meet the girl that has my older brother drooling.” 

“I am not drooling,” Quinn shot back. 

“Basically are, Q,” The taller boy said, “I’m Luke.” 

You shook his hand too, “It’s nice to meet you guys, finally. Quinn has told me so much about you. It’s good to see your healing well, Jack.” 

“Thanks,” Jack nodded, “Been a long season but I’m glad I got this taken care of,” He massaged his shoulder, and you could see a slightly still puffy, pink scar, “But don’t think I can’t beat your ass at pool, Q.” 

“I’d like to see you try, Rowdy.” 

“Boys!” A woman called from the doorway. You looked around Luke to see a beautiful blonde woman standing there, her hands on her hips, “Let your brother and his girlfriend get settled before you start your pool tournament!” 

“Yes mom,” Both Jack and Luke said. Quinn chuckled as he pulled you towards the front door, letting Jack and Luke bicker about who was going to carry your bags in. 

You squeezed Quinn’s hand as you walked up to the matriarch of the Hughes family. You had read up on Ellen Hughes when you had met Quinn. She was an incredible woman, being a former hockey star herself and raising three incredible players. You felt another wave of anxiety rush over you as she looked you over, her eyes similar to Quinn taking you in. It felt like you were standing in front of a judge; a judge who was going to decide if you are worthy enough for her eldest son. 

“Hey mom,” Quinn greeted her, leaving your side to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Good to see ya.” 

“You too, baby,” Ellen said, and held her son at an arm’s length. She tsked, grabbing his chin and running a finger over the scar on his cheek, “That should’ve been a damn high stick.” 

Quinn chuckled, “Not much we can do about it now. Besides, it adds to my cool factor.” 

“Mhm,” Ellen nodded, and playfully rolled her eyes, looking back towards you. 

You mouth felt dry and you stepped forward, holding your hand out to Ellen, “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Hughes.” 

It was silent for a moment, probably not as long as you felt like it was, but it was long enough, before Ellen pulled you in for a hug. 

“Handshakes are for business partners and old men,” Ellen told you as she gave you a squeeze. And just like that, all the tension you felt had melted away. Ellen pulled back and held you at arms length, the same way she did with Quinn, “My son seemed to be hiding you away,” She looked at Quinn, “Why were you hiding her away? You talk about her all the time.” 

Quinn chuckled, grabbing you gently out of his mother’s hold, “Because I wanted to keep her for myself for just a bit longer. I know once I bring her home, I’ll be fighting for her attention.” 

“Well, start fighting now,” Ellen said and you chuckled, “C’mon, I just finished making some sangria. The boys can take your stuff to your room.” 

For several hours, you sat in the kitchen with Ellen, getting to know her. It started off with just small talk; asking where you are from, what are your parents' names, what do they do, what do you do for work, how did you meet Quinn. Then the conversation transitioned into how to make the perfect cheesecake, something Ellen was famous for in their neighborhood back in Michigan. Before you knew it, you and Ellen were making dinner side by side, while the boys sat out on the back patio with their dad, Jim, watching the grill. 

“The boys used to volun-tell me to make raspberry cheesecake for every single end of season potluck,” Ellen shook her head with a laugh, “Oh I wanted to strangle them sometimes, cause of course, they never told more than a day or two in advance.” 

“Oh of course not,” You giggled, “Quinn signed me up to bake cookies for one of the Canucks charity events. Told me at eight o'clock the night before that he needed me to make three dozen chocolate chip cookies.” 

“Boys,” Ellen playfully rolled her eyes. 

“What about boys?” Quinn asked as he walked into the kitchen. 

“Oh nothing,” Ellen said, wiping her hands on the towel thrown over her shoulder, “Y/N makes a better sous chef than you.” 

“Taking my job?” Quinn looked at you. You nodded your head, “Traitor. This is my off-season gig,” He reached over to grab a cube of watermelon, but you swatted his hand back, “Hey!” 

“This is for dinner,” You scolded him. Quinn walked around to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Quinn, your begging isn’t going to make me cave.” 

“Please,” Quinn whined, “I lost game seven.” 

“Two weeks ago!” 

“I’m still wounded!” 

“Fine,” You muttered, grabbing a cube of watermelon and turning in his arms to face him, “Because you lost game seven. . . two weeks ago,” You fed it to him and he smiled. 

“Thanks baby,” He kissed your cheek before heading back out to the grill. 

You shook your head, going back to placing balls of cookie dough on the baking sheet. It was quiet and you could feel Ellen’s stare on you as you worked, causing you to overthink every little movement you made. You paused, looking at the cookies before looking up at Ellen. 

“Did I mess something up?” You asked, fear rising in your body. 

“Hm? Oh, no,” Ellen shook her head, “It’s just. . . he never used to joke about the games he lost. In fact, it was almost like a taboo subject to bring up any losses around him. It’s. . . refreshing to see him like that.” 

You blushed and nodded, going back to work, a small smile on your face. 

Dinner went off without a hitch. Jim had grilled enough hamburgers, chicken and steak to feed a whole hockey team instead of just the six of you. You fell into comfortable silence as you watched the Hughes family interact with each other. It was like no time had passed by them at all, as if they weren’t spread across North America and in different time zones. You felt comfortable and at ease with them. And Quinn could sense that as he looked at you. 

“Feeling okay?” He asked, nodding towards your barely touched plate. 

“Yeah, I feel fine,” You smiled, picking up your fork, “Just. . . taking it all in,” You sighed. Quinn smiled and placed his hand on your thigh. 

Ellen and Jim shared a knowing look across the table, watching you and their son interact. They were both taken aback when Quinn first mentioned a girl in his life. Quinn was always so focused on hockey that personal relationships (unless they were centered around hockey) came second to him. It wasn’t that Ellen feared that her son was going to be alone forever, she just knew the kind of man he was. She knew that hockey wasn’t going to be around forever, that there would come a time where Quinn would retire from the game, and she wanted him to have someone who would be there for when that time came. She wanted him to have someone for when he came home from those long roadies or hard fought games. She wanted him to have the kind of partner and relationship that she has with Jim. 

When dinner was over, you and Quinn packed up the boat, putting a small cooler of seltzers and water, a couple of blankets and towels. Quinn gave you one of his sweatshirts to wear, knowing that it would get cold once the sun went all the way down. You sat next to Ellen as the boys and Jim, pushed away from the dock, ready to set out on a slow sunset cruise around the lake. Quinn took up the captain spot, while Jack and Jim navigated, Luke opted to sit next to you and his mom. 

“So, who is the best driver?” You asked, looking at the three Hughes boys. 

“Oh for sure me,” Jack scoffed. 

“You only have one functioning arm,” Luke pointed. 

“It wasn’t chopped off,” Jack rolled his eyes, “I can still use my hands.” 

“Whatever you say, Bucky Barnes.” 

You giggled and looked at Ellen, “They always like this?” 

“Got worse with age,” Ellen sighed, “I was a little worried when they all went into the NHL. I have known some families that the competition gets the better of them, and they don’t talk anymore. But not these three. I think if anything, they talk more now than they ever had.” 

You smiled, “Quinn talks about them all the time. He has me record their games so he can watch them back after his.” 

Ellen’s heart swelled at your words, “He told them about you first,” You blushed, “Jack can’t keep a secret to save his life, and he texted me asking if I knew that Quinn had a girlfriend and I said no, and then Jack launched into this whole story that Quinn told them about you,” Ellen chuckled, “When Quinn told us about you, I told him I already knew.” 

“What did he say then?” You asked. 

“He said ‘of course Jack told you’,” You laughed and Ellen smiled, “It meant a lot to Jack that you sent him flowers after his surgery, and Luke when you sent some after his Calder nomination. They won’t admit that, but I know it.” 

“They mean a lot to him,” You gestured towards your boyfriend and his brothers who were sitting at the front of the boat, “So they mean a lot to me too.” 

Quinn glanced at you from where he sat, a smile on his face as you talked to his parents. His parents were two of the most important people in his life. He valued their opinion on almost everything, so it meant something to see you so easily getting along with them. His heart felt warm when he heard your laughter at a, no doubt, embarrassing story his dad was telling. 

“So when are you going to propose?” Jack said, pulling Quinn out of his trance. 

“What?” 

“You got a ring yet? I bet you got a ring already.” 

“Huh?” 

“You’re going to marry her!” Jack exclaimed, “And don’t even lie, I can see it. I have a sixth sense for these things.” 

“Yeah, and I talk to ghosts,” Quinn rolled his eyes. But his younger brother was right. Even though you and him had only been dating for six months, Quinn had already imagined proposing to you, getting married, buying a house, and hopefully, having a family. Quinn had never felt this way about someone before, and he would be lying if he wasn’t a bit scared of his feelings, but one look at you and all those fears melted away. 

“Whatever man,” Jack waved him off, “As long as I get to be the best man, I won’t complain.” 

“And who says you will be the best man?” Luke asked, “If anything, I think it would be me. I never broke his xbox controller.” 

“Luke, you’re literally like seven,” Jack scoffed, “It won’t be you.” 

“I’m twenty.” 

The sun was completely down by the time you guys had made it back to the dock. Quinn expertly parked the boat in the hoist, and helped you out, before raising it back up. Jack and Luke had run back to the house, shouting something about getting a fire started, Ellen and Jim walking hand in hand behind them. You stood on the dock, taking in the dark lake in the final strands of light from the sky. 

“No wonder you guys run away to this place at the end of the season,” You said, “It’s so peaceful here. I love it and I’ve only been here a couple of hours.” 

Quinn chuckled, “It feels like this is the one place on earth where I can be just Quinn Hughes. Not the hockey player or the captain of the Canucks. Just Quinn.” 

You turned around, draping your arms around his neck, “Well I like it, Just Quinn,” He smiled at you, his hands resting on your hips, “Thank you for bringing me here. For letting me into your life.” 

“Of course,” Quinn’s voice was full of sincerity as his thumbs brushed over your hip bones, “Thank you for being in my life. You’ve made me a better person.” You tilted your head up slightly, placing a kiss on his lips. One of his hands cupped your cheek, while the other one tangled in your hair, deepening the kiss. When you pulled apart for air, you rested your forehead against his, wanting to just stand in his embrace for a moment longer. 

“Hey lovebirds!” You broke apart, like two teenagers being caught by your parents. But instead of your parents, it was Jack, “Quit sucking face! We’re making smores!” 

“He is such a child,” Quinn huffed. You laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the house. 

“Yes but you love him.” 

“Unfortunately, I do.” 

You sat on Quinn’s lap, your legs dangling off the side of the chair, by the fire, as Jack and Luke argued about how toasted a marshmallow should be for the perfect smore. Ellen and Jim sat across the firepit from you and Quinn, enjoying having their kids back home. Your eyes were growing heavier by the minute, the heat from the fire, being in Quinn’s embrace and the exhaustion from traveling finally catching up to you. Quinn could feel your body growing heavier and heavier with sleep, his hand running up and down your back, a soothing motion that he knew would lull you to sleep. 

“Tired?” He asked, looking at you. 

“A bit,” You yawned, “But I don’t want to go to bed yet, having too much fun.” 

“Just close your eyes,” Quinn whispered. You nodded, nuzzling your face into his neck. He leaned his cheek on top of your head. It wasn’t very long after that, that Quinn could feel your breathing start to slow, until you were sleeping in his arms. He looked down at you, a soft smile on his face, as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“She’s a keeper Quinn,” Jim said, raising his can of beer towards his son, “She’s gotta be a special one to deal with you.” 

“Yeah,” Quinn said, his eyes still on your sleeping frame, “I’m not letting her go anytime soon.”

note: I am thinking of creating a tag list. Is that something y'all would want? also, requests are open!!

[discopaddock]

PRAGUE - JOOST KLEIN

SUMMARY: school trips are always a pleasure. a biggest pleasure is being at the school trip with your crush.

PAIRING: joost klein x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff mostly, IDIOTS IN LOVE! also a boy nextdoor kinda:p

WORD COUNT: 1,5k+

WARINGS: none!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hi...! i know ive been offline for some time but im doing everything to be back now, okay?! so this fic is based in the time joost was going to the high school:) based on this and this request.

“He will never like me back, Stunjte,” Y/N said and wrote another question in the quiz for their presentation. “I'm healing over him, really,” she added. “I'm a better person than I was in September, I swear” she told him and let him look at the laptop to see what she had written.

“Joost really likes you” Stuntje said, looking at her face.

“He's dating Elena now, I'm not the homewrecker” Y/N answered, taking a deep breath. She really wanted this conversation to end. Voice messages she was sending to her friends from music school weren't enough at that point. “But I wish he could see me one day” she said only.

Stuntje knew about her crush on Joost since September, when everything started. He understood her, Joost was a cool and handsome guy. It hurt him deeply knowing that Joost didn't like her in the romantic way as she did.

“Wanna go to kebab?” Stuntje asked, when they finished the project. He loved working with her. Her ideas were always so brilliant and she was such a clever person.

She only smiled at his proposal and grabbed her keys with wallet. They went for Apson as well, who loved the idea. But they didn't invite Joost. And it's because he was on date with Elena.

As they were eating, Appie's phone rang. He only sighed when he saw Joost's name displayed. He passed his food to the girl and answered the call. Apson truly wanted this date to be a failure. He hated Elena and he couldn't stand her being in their group. His smile only grew bigger and bigger as he listened to Joost talking.

“I can't meet you right now, I'm out with Stuntje and Y/N” he said to the phone. He ended the call and said: “He will be there in fifteen minutes”. The girl's smile faded when he announced it. She really didn't wanna see Joost. Of course she liked him, but he was also a crazy guy and you never knew what he was going to do next.

Stuntje tried to assure her that everything will be okay and that there's no need to worry. But she lived in the same area as Joost did and they always went home together. She was scared she would say something stupid and that all chances she had to win his heart would fade.

Joost finally arrived. He didn't look happy as he usually did after his dates with Elena. No, this time he was pissed.

“Gonna tell us what happened?” Apson asked, making the blonde guy sigh.

“She said I'm in love with someone else” he answered only and stood up to get his food. Y/N looked at Stuntje, wondering who he was talking about. And Appie only smiled. Because he knew who his best friend was talking about. And that ‘who’ was sitting at the same table as he did.

Stuntje of course knew too, there was only one person wondering who Joost was talking about. And she really hoped it was about her.

“How are we sitting in the bus to Prague?” Apson asked to change the topic. All four of them could look forward to that one school trip. Three days in Czechia, but what three days.

“Definitely not in the back,” Joost said. He knew who was sitting there and he didn't want to step there.

“I was thinking about the seats by the toilet. It can be easily spread” Y/N smiled at them. Her ideas were again brilliant.

“Gonna take your Niall pillow?” Apson asked, making everyone laugh. Yeah, all of them knew about her weird parasocial relationship with the Irish singer. And that her mother gave her that pillow as a present for her birthday.

“Of course,” she answered. Her eyes were sparkling as she was laughing, dimples showing up. Joost was staring at her as he was chewing his kebab. Oh, it wasn't regular watching your friend having fun. No, he was STARING.

“I gotta go, I need to make some dinner for mum” Y/N said after a while and checked the time on her phone. Joost, who just finished eating, got up, saying that he would walk her home. The girl only smiled and looked at Stuntje terrified, making Apson chuckle. They quickly said goodbyes and left the boys, who only started to cheer and hope they would get together.

“How's your project? Stuntje was saying that your teacher is still a bitch” he laughed, his hands in pockets as they were walking on the sidewalk. She looked at him, not sure what to think about his question. She didn't think that Stuntje would tell him about what they were doing and so that he would ask about it.

“Yeah, she is. We had already finished it” Y/N answered and looked at his face for the first time since they left the boys. He was staring at her. Again. “I really can't look forward to our trip” she announced, making him smile.

“Me too” he said and they stood in front of her family house. “Tell your mum I said hi, okay?” he said and she only nodded. Joost was already on his way to turn around and walk away to his home but then he grabbed her by arms delicately to put a kiss on her cheek. He mumbled a quick “good night” and left, leaving her alone in the driveway.

The girl only touched her cheek where he had put his lips before and sighed. With shaking hands she opened the door and entered the house. There the realisation hit her harder. Joost Klein had kissed her. Joost Klein liked her.

Next few days were odd. Y/N was nervous about the trip, same as her girlfriends, with whom she was in the room. She never told Stuntje or Apson about the kiss, nor did Joost. But she couldn't stay quiet about that and told the girls. They told her that she shouldn't take it as any love confession. And with that she distanced from Joost and it was sure that she probably won't sit with him at the bus but something encouraged her to do it.

Finding a way to sleep on the bus is difficult. And because of that they ended up hugging each other and wrapped up in one pink blanket.

Because of that everyone started to set them up in every situation they could.

Prague might not be the city of love as Paris was, but it was definitely the city of Y/N and Joost.

They were holding hands, smiling, laughing - doing literally everything that couples do. And yet they became one. It happened during the last day of the trip, when they were looking for the souvenirs (well only Y/N was doing it, because Joost was only walking with her and smiling at her as she was having fun). They didn't even notice that they were walking alone, without their friends, until they entered some bookstore.

It was small but had tons of books.

“Okay, so what if we take a book and open it at a random page and do what the first sentence on that page says?” the girl asked, looking at him. She recently saw something like this on the internet and thought that it would be a nice activity. He didn't say anything but grabbed a book from a bookshelf that was nearest to him.

He flipped through the pages and stopped at page 260 and read the first sentence. He didn't let her see it but kissed her and when he finished he showed her the book.

“And he kissed her,” it read.

The girl only mumbled quiet “oh” that made him laugh a little and wrap his arm around her waist.

“Gonna buy it” he chuckled and grabbed her to the cash till. “You know, we can do more things from books if you want to” he proposed and opened the book at another page, this time at 267th. “She was looking at him as she was confessing her feelings and he was smiling, staring at her” he read out loud. He looked at her and her cheeks were all red.

“I really like you, Joost. N-not in the friend way, more in the romantic way, you know” she chuckled at the end. There was no other confession from her. She captured her feelings in those two sentences.

“I really like you too, Y/N. I made a mistake by not asking you out earlier” he started. He could see the stars in her eyes that he loved. He couldn't be happier that he was the cause of them. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asked finally and the girl only nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. He only let out a sigh of relief and hugged her back, then lifting her up a little bit. “I adore you, Y/N, I really do.”

“I adore you too, Joost” she answered and they kissed again.

She was in love and so he was in love. Prague was definitely the city of love for them.

masterlist

[ms-demeanor]

Hello! First, I wanted to say thank you for your post about updating software and such. I really appreciated your perspective as someone with ADHD. The way you described your experiences with software frustration was IDENTICAL to my experience, so your post made a lot of sense to me.

Second, (and I hope my question isn't bothering you lol) would you mind explaining why it's important to update/adopt the new software? Like, why isn't there an option that doesn't involve constantly adopting new things? I understand why they'd need to fix stuff like functional bugs/make it compatible with new tech, but is it really necessary to change the user side of things as well?

Sorry if those are stupid questions or they're A Lot for a tumblr rando to ask, I'd just really like to understand because I think it would make it easier to get myself to adopt new stuff if I understand why it's necessary, and the other folks I know that know about computers don't really seem to understand the experience.

Thank you so much again for sharing your wisdom!!

A huge part of it is changing technologies and changing norms; I brought up Windows 8 in that other post and Win8 is a *great* example of user experience changing to match hardware, just in a situation that was an enormous mismatch with the market.

Win8's much-beloathed tiles came about because Microsoft seemed to be anticipating a massive pivot to tablet PCs in nearly all applications. The welcome screen was designed to be friendly to people who were using handheld touchscreens who could tap through various options, and it was meant to require more scrolling and less use of a keyboard.

But most people who the operating system went out to *didn't* have touchscreen tablets or laptops, they had a desktop computer with a mouse and a keyboard.

When that was released, it was Microsoft attempting to keep up with (or anticipate) market trends - they wanted something that was like "the iPad for Microsoft" so Windows 8 was meant to go with Microsoft Surface tablets.

We spent the first month of Win8's launch making it look like Windows 7 for our customers.

You can see the same thing with the centered taskbar on Windows 11; that's very clearly supposed to mimic the dock on apple computers (only you can't pin it anywhere but the bottom of the screen, which sucks).

Some of the visual changes are just trends and various companies trying to keep up with one another.

With software like Adobe I think it's probably based on customer data. The tool layout and the menu dropdowns are likely based on what people are actually looking for, and change based on what other tools people are using. That's likely true for most programs you use - the menu bar at the top of the screen in Word is populated with the options that people use the most; if a function you used to click on all the time is now buried, there's a possibility that people use it less these days for any number of reasons. (I'm currently being driven mildly insane by Teams moving the "attach file" button under a "more" menu instead of as an icon next to the "send message" button, and what this tells me is either that more users are putting emojis in their messages than attachments, or microsoft WANTS people to put more emojis than messages in their attachments).

But focusing on the operating system, since that's the big one:

The thing about OSs is that you interact with them so frequently that any little change seems massive and you get REALLY frustrated when you have to deal with that, but version-to-version most OSs don't change all that much visually and they also don't get released all that frequently. I've been working with windows machines for twelve years and in that time the only OSs that Microsoft has released were 8, 10, and 11. That's only about one OS every four years, which just is not that many. There was a big visual change in the interface between 7 and 8 (and 8 and 8.1, which is more of a 'panicked backing away' than a full release), but otherwise, realistically, Windows 11 still looks a lot like XP.

The second one is a screenshot of my actual computer. The only change I've made to the display is to pin the taskbar to the left side instead of keeping it centered and to fuck around a bit with the colors in the display customization. I haven't added any plugins or tools to get it to look different.

This is actually a pretty good demonstration of things changing based on user behavior too - XP didn't come with a search field in the task bar or the start menu, but later versions of Windows OSs did, because users had gotten used to searching things more in their phones and browsers, so then they learned to search things on their computers.

There are definitely nefarious reasons that software manufacturers change their interfaces. Microsoft has included ads in home versions of their OS and pushed searches through the Microsoft store since Windows 10, as one example. That's shitty and I think it's worthwhile to find the time to shut that down (and to kill various assistants and background tools and stop a lot of stuff that runs at startup).

But if you didn't have any changes, you wouldn't have any changes. I think it's handy to have a search field in the taskbar. I find "settings" (which is newer than control panel) easier to navigate than "control panel." Some of the stuff that got added over time is *good* from a user perspective - you can see that there's a little stopwatch pinned at the bottom of my screen; that's a tool I use daily that wasn't included in previous versions of the OS. I'm glad it got added, even if I'm kind of bummed that my Windows OS doesn't come with Spider Solitaire anymore.

One thing that's helpful to think about when considering software is that nobody *wants* to make clunky, unusable software. People want their software to run well, with few problems, and they want users to like it so that they don't call corporate and kick up a fuss.

When you see these kinds of changes to the user experience, it often reflects something that *you* may not want, but that is desirable to a *LOT* of other people. The primary example I can think of here is trackpad scrolling direction; at some point it became common for trackpads to scroll in the opposite direction that they used to; now the default direction is the one that feels wrong to me, because I grew up scrolling with a mouse, not a screen. People who grew up scrolling on a screen seem to feel that the new direction is a lot more intuitive, so it's the default. Thankfully, that's a setting that's easy to change, so it's a change that I make every time I come across it, but the change was made for a sensible reason, even if that reason was opaque to me at the time I stumbled across it and continues to irritate me to this day.

I don't know. I don't want to defend Windows all that much here because I fucking hate Microsoft and definitely prefer using Linux when I'm not at work or using programs that I don't have on Linux. But the thing is that you'll see changes with Linux releases as well.

I wouldn't mind finding a tool that made my desktop look 100% like Windows 95, that would be fun. But we'd probably all be really frustrated if there hadn't been any interface improvements changes since MS-DOS (and people have DEFINITELY been complaining about UX changes at least since then).

Like, I talk about this in terms of backward compatibility sometimes. A lot of people are frustrated that their old computers can't run new software well, and that new computers use so many resources. But the flipside of that is that pretty much nobody wants mobile internet to work the way that it did in 2004 or computers to act the way they did in 1984.

Like. People don't think about it much these days but the "windows" of the Windows Operating system represented a massive change to how people interacted with their computers that plenty of people hated and found unintuitive.

(also take some time to think about the little changes that have happened that you've appreciated or maybe didn't even notice. I used to hate the squiggly line under misspelled words but now I see the utility. Predictive text seems like new technology to me but it's really handy for a lot of people. Right clicking is a UX innovation. Sometimes you have to take the centered task bar in exchange for the built-in timer deck; sometimes you have to lose color-coded files in exchange for a right click.)

[purple-obsidian]

Would you write for AK Jason? I like him mean. Like him and you are arguing and he gets all pissed off and makes you cry but it ends in angry sex.

say it back (18+, ak jason todd x fem reader) wc 5.5k

⭓ this post contains sexually explicit content and dark themes. it is not suitable for minors. please consider the tags and consume at your own discretion. not an example of a healthy relationship. jason might be kinda ooc here, but hey. it's fanfiction.

"You need to drop your fucking attitude." Jason hisses at you.

"Me? My attitude? I'm just trying to have a conversation, Jason, you're the one acting like-"

"Like what? Hm?" He stalks closer to you, and you take a step back reflexively.

"You're angry." You state simply, staring up at him with sadness in your eyes. "You're angry with me. Still. Aren't you?"

Jason's eyes pierce into your own, searching them for something as he takes a deep breath to calm himself. It takes several tense moments before he finally mutters, "Maybe I am."

"What more do you want from me, Jason? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I didn't come looking for you. I didn't know. Bruce told me you were-" Jason growls, and corners you against the wall until your back is pressed up against it.

"Don't fucking talk about him! Don't say his name, I'm sick of thinking about him!"

"Then what do you want me to do? I mourned you, Jason, I grieved for you. I didn't just forget about you. I could never." Tears begin to well up in your eyes. The guilt you feel for what your boyfriend went through is crushing. It haunts you every day. Every time you look at him and see that 'J' carved into his cheek, your self-hatred grows even deeper.

"There's nothing you can do now. What's done is done." His warm breath fans over your face. His eyes are narrowed, staring you down like you're the one who locked him up and tortured him.

"Why am I here, huh? Why do you keep me around if you refuse to forgive me?" You ask him, your voice quivering from grief and exasperation.

"Would you shut the fuck up?" He groans and slams his fist against the brick wall, just inches from your head. Your eyes widen when he does, a jolt of fear running through you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Jason's never hit you, but ever since he came back, you don't know what to expect from his behavior. He's erratic. Hurting. But at the same time, even more focused and calculating than ever. Its a terrifying combination, honestly.

He looks so much different now. Even though you're both still young, his features are harsher, his face hardened and scarred. You still see traces of the boy you fell in love with. It isn't always obvious, but you catch brief glimpses of the old him here and there. Its enough to keep you around, to remind yourself of how much you love him. Seeing him hurt like this and isolating himself is devastating.

"I don't know if I'm capable of forgiving you." He says between labored breaths. His eyes are dark, filled with a pain he refuses to share. "You left me in there to rot. The things he did to me, the things he made me do-"

"Jay." Your voice breaks, warm tears trailing down your cheeks. "Please, baby, I'm sorry. I failed you. I know I did." You reach out tentatively to caress his cheek, avoiding the scar. "I want to be here for you. I want to help you. But I feel like me being here is making things worse.”

Maybe you’re imagining it, but you catch a flicker of something in his expression. A crack in the hard mask he’s been wearing. “What are you saying?”

“If you hate me so much, maybe I should leave.” You struggle to get the words out. You hate yourself for even suggesting it. But the past few weeks with Jason have been tumultuous at best, and you’re not sure that your presence is actually helping him. If anything, you feel like you trigger him just by existing.

“Leave?” He asks, his face contorting in pain and anger. “You’re going to leave me? Really?”

“Only if that’s- I mean, I don’t know, Jason! I don’t know!” Unable to hold it in anymore, a heavy sob shakes your body, and you look away in shame. He’s still got you pinned against the wall, his arms caging you in and keeping you from turning away. “I just want you to be happy. I don’t think I’m capable of giving you happiness anymore. You won’t talk to me. All you do is yell. I want to be here for you, more than anything. But you won’t let me in. Maybe you’ll be better off without me.” Your voice is hushed and thick with emotion. You don’t want to leave him, now that he’s finally back. You were over the moon when you realized who was behind the Arkham knights mask.

Your best friend. Your lover, back from the dead.

But he hasn’t been the same. And you can’t blame him. He doesn’t go into detail about what happened, but you can see the evidence of his torture on his body. Not that he’s let you get too close.

He referred to you as ‘his girl’ in front of his militia. And now, after Gotham has recovered from the events surrounding his return, his hired men know that you’re to be protected at all costs. But other than a brief kiss upon your initial reunion, Jason hasn’t touched you. Yet he’s kept you close, physically, insisting you stay with him in his hideout. You quit your job, moved out of your apartment, left behind your old life as a law-abiding citizen to devote yourself to him and his cause. But your loyalty has been rewarded with him being emotionally closed-off and bitter towards you. It has you questioning where the two of you stand, and if he even wants you here.

“You’re wrong.” His voice is still harsh as he lowers his head to try and meet your eyes. He's close enough that you're able to smell his scent, a mix between his body wash and his natural musk. It draws you in, but you don't dare lean into him, in fear of fueling his annoyance towards you.

"Then why are you so mean to me?" You hate how weak you sound. You wish you were stronger, but being Jason's emotional punching bag has taken it's toll on you.

"I..." Some of his anger seems to fade, but his eyes are still swimming with turmoil. "I can be nicer."

"That isn't an answer."

Jason swallows hard, and removes his forearms from the wall so he's no longer caging you in. His jaw is clenched as he keeps staring at you and thinking about how to respond.

"I don't know." He finally says. "All I know is that I don't want you to go."

You slip to the side so you're no longer sandwiched between him and the wall, and take a step backwards to distance yourself. "I can't handle much more of this, Jason. It's too much. I can't stand fighting like this. It hurts me."

The look on your face has Jason's pulse quickening. "I'll be nicer." He says again.

"Jas-"

"I mean it." He reaches for your hand, and you need to consciously keep yourself from flinching away. "Just please, don't go."

Your heart aches at his plea. You don't want to leave, of course you'd rather be here. But you're not quite naïve enough to believe him when he say's he'll be nicer. You look down at where your hands are entwined, eyeing the thin silvery scars that litter his hand and wrist. Your mind briefly wanders, wondering what nightmare gave him those. Too thin to be from rope burn. Maybe zip ties. A few more tears pool in your eyes and blur your vision at the mental image of him being restrained in such an inhuman way.

"If you really want me, I'll stay." You whisper,

His eyes light up, but the relief doesn't touch the frown that's seemingly permanently etched onto his strong features. "Come here."

You don't fight the gentle tug on your hand. You let Jason hug you close to him, his heart still beating fast in his chest. You feel the steady rhythm against your cheek when he pulls you close and holds you against him. He's still angry, you can sense it radiating off of him in waves. But he's making a pointed effort to stay calm, which is an improvement.

"I don’t hate you. I love you. You know that, right?" He asks. You get a odd, fluttery feeling in your stomach. Not the same as the feeling you got the first time he told you he loved you. It’s a weird, perverted ghost of the feeling, one that makes the ache in your chest even worse.

You don't want to answer him. What would you even say? That you love him too? He already knows that, surely. And he laughed at you last time you told him. In front of several of his men. It was humiliating, and you've avoided saying it ever since.

"Hm? You know that, right?" He tightens his hold on you, his strong arms encouraging you to answer.

"Yeah. I know." You mumble back.

Jason looks down at you, and pulls away far enough to look you in the eyes again. What you would give to know what's going on in his head. It’s like a whirlwind of emotions are playing across his face.

You don't expect him to lean in and capture your lips in a sudden kiss. You freeze for a beat before you kiss him back, not quite relaxing against him, but letting yourself move with him. Still, it feels off. Almost like you're kissing a stranger. He isn't familiar anymore, which only encourages the tears to keep falling hot and slow down your cheeks.

As your tongues dance together, Jason begins to explore your body, warm hands running up and down your back. You wouldn't describe his touch as gentle, but he moves slowly and deliberately, finally resting on your ass and kneading your fat with his strong hands.

Is this his idea of 'being nicer'? You wonder to yourself. But you don't stop him. He's the only man you've ever loved, and when you thought he was dead, you missed his touch more than anything. Craved it. And you still do, even though you're more wary of him now. If you were thinking clearly, you'd probably stop his hand from sneaking down the front of your pants, and tell him that you should both take a breather and calm down. But he's left you so desperate for any speck of affection that you can't bring yourself to turn him away.

His hands are warm against your skin, but goosebumps still prickle your skin from the contact. He slips his hand in your underwear, not bothering to take his time. The sudden feeling of his rough fingers against your labia has you whimpering into his mouth. Jason rubs firm circles over your neglected clit as he breaks the kiss. "Yeah, you know?" He says back in a mocking tone. "Your body knows. She missed me, didn't she?"

The way he calls your cunt 'she' leaves a weird taste in your mouth. You pretend not to notice. "Of course I missed you." You say back to him. You grip his forearm gently and caress his skin with your thumb, feeling his muscles move and flex as he pleasures you, while your other arm grips his shoulder to steady your body. It's hard to relax with all the pent up tension you have inside. But you focus on his fingers, and how good it feels to be touched by your boyfriend again after so long.

"How quick did you move on. Hm?" His deep voice almost sounds like it's rumbling as asks. "How many people have you fucked since I disappeared?"

His question feels like a daggar to your heart. Maybe he really doesn't know, doesn't understand how hard his 'death' hit you. You haven't spoken about it much to him, since he obviously suffered much worse than you did while you were apart. It would feel insensitive to open up about the deep depression you fell into, one that your friends and even Dick tried and failed to help you out of. It was all you could do to even finish high school and get a job. You didn't see anyone else. You barely hung out with anyone. All you did was work and sleep. It was like the joy was sucked from your life the day you lost him.

But Jason doesn't know this. He mistakes your silence for shame, and he uses his other hand to cup your chin and force you to look at him as his fingers slowly warm you up. "What's wrong? Lost count?" The bitterness and mistrust are second nature to him now, after enduring Jokers sick mind games.

"No one... I promise." You lip trembles as the pleasurable sensations build between your legs. You grow wetter under his touch, even though your heart is heavy with grief.

"S'that right?" Jason lets out a dark chuckle and removes his hands from you abruptly. "Take your clothes off."

You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You hesitate, looking from him to his bed along the opposite wall. Jason brings his fingers to his mouth, and to your horror, he sucks them clean, tasting your arousal without breaking eye contact.

"Do you want this?" He asks, growing annoyed at how you're freezing up.

"Do I want, what?" You say back a little too quickly.

Jason's nostrils flare as he lets out an irritated sigh. "Me. Do you want me to fuck you?"

Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you stammer out a hurried "Yes."

“You sure about that? Doll?” He cocks his head at you and studies your face carefully. The old nickname brings back memories, memories you’re sure are far too sweet in comparison to what’s about to happen.

But it doesn’t stop you from nodding at him all the same. You want him, there’s no denying that. Even if he isn’t the same boy you fell in love with, he’s still Jason. Your Jason.

Breathing heavily, Jason leans down to you so you're face to face once again. "Then take. Your fucking. Clothes. Off. Before I rip them off of you."

You glare at him through teary eyes, not appreciating the threat. But you’re not going to pass up the opportunity for intimacy. Hardening your gaze to match his, you hurridly remove your clothing piece by piece, folding the garments and setting them down neatly on the table beside you.

Jason surprisingly keeps his eyes on yours. Even as you reveal more of your body to him, his focus is on your face, not faltering.

When you step out of your underwear and set them on top of the pile, you finally say “You next.”

A dark chuckle departs Jason’s scarred lips before he replies, “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Confused, you give him a quizzical look as he stomps over to his bed and kicks off his boots. They land beside him with a thud, making you jump a little.

“Get the fuck over here.”

Jason’s voice echoes across the studio apartment ominously. It’s pissing you off, how he’s still being so brash after just promising to be nicer to you. You shiver and run your hand up and down your arm while you walk over to join him, the cool air against your bare skin making you feel even more vulnerable. It’s clear to you that he’s enjoying this. Sitting on the edge of his bed, still almost fully clothed, finally letting himself drink in the sight of your naked body as you approach him.

“You’ve changed.” He comments after a few moments of tense silence. And he isn’t wrong. You’ve matured in the time he was gone, you’re a bit taller, your hair is longer, looking less like a teenager and more like a woman. But the changes in your body are subtle compared to his. Jason is at least 6 inches taller than what you remember. He’s put on a lot of muscle, and his features are sharper. Harsher, even. His face is different. Even ignoring the scars, there’s a new depth to him that’s hard to pinpoint.

You wonder how much of his transformation is due to just growing up, like you, and how much of it is from the trauma he experienced. Surely, being malnourished and tortured as a teenager would stunt a persons growth. But the man in front of you is anything but stunted. He’s massive. Again, your mind wonders about the details of his absence, about how long he took to recover from his torture before returning as the Arkham Knight.

“You just gunna stand there and gawk at me, or are you going to help me out?”

“Sorry.” You mutter hastily, embarrassed to be caught zoning out. You focus on him again, and realize he has his pants unzipped and his cock in his hand, stroking it with lust-clouded eyes. It takes a good deal of effort to hide the shock on your face from the sight as heat rushes between your legs. Your cheeks turn red, and you place your hand on his knee to steady yourself before you kneel in front of him. “You’ve changed too.”

Jasons pupils dilate when you place your hand over his own, taking over for him and stroking him lightly. He is already hard as a rock, his veins bulging under your touch.

“Way to state the obvious.” He leans back casually and uses his hands to prop himself up against the bed. Using both of your hands now, you jerk him off carefully, hoping he doesn’t notice the trembling in your fingers. “That’s it… shiiit, spit on it, baby, can you do that for me?”

With nervous excitement you obey his request, gathering some saliva with your tongue and letting it drip from your mouth down onto his shaft. His cock is feverish to the touch. The groan that rumbles in his chest as you spread your spit over him triggers emotions you haven't felt in a long time.

“Fuck yes, nice and sloppy for me, shit.”

You want to tug his pants down his legs to give yourself better access, but your instincts are telling you it’s a bad idea. Even as you became more aroused from his reactions, you still maintain a strong sense of unease, like he could snap at you without a moments notice.

When you peer up at his face, his eyes are closed, and some of the anger and tension he was holding onto is less apparent now. It gives you a spark of excitement, pride, even, that you’re finally able to provide him some peace.

His expression gives you enough confidence to lean your head down and take him in your mouth. You start with a soft kiss against his tip, then you swirl your tongue around it slowly, trying to gauge his reaction.

“M’not in the mood for teasing, doll.” Jason groans. “Better take a deep breath.”

That is all the warning he gives you before his hand grips the back of your head and pushes your mouth down onto him. You gag a little at the sudden intrusion before you remember to relax your throat to allow him fully in.

Another deep moan fills your ears when Jason feels you gag around him. Your eyes water as your nose brushes against the dark hair at the base of his cock. He’s definitely bigger than the last time you two did this. Or perhaps you’re just out of practice. Whatever the reason, you struggle to suck him off properly. After a few seconds of deep-throating him, pull your mouth away to cough and catch your breath.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” He growls. "That felt good."

“You’re being a jerk.” You sputter out between coughs. “You said you’d be nicer to me.”

“This is me being nice.” He argues, bringing his hand to his cock to stroke himself again now that you've abandoned your effort. “You don’t want to suck me off? Fine. Get on the bed.”

“It’s not that I-“

“Get on the fucking bed.”

He stands up, and you’re momentarily scared he’s going to drag you. But his grip on your arm isn’t harsh, just a firm guide as he helps you onto the cheap mattress. You lay on your back and settle against the bedding, but Jason promptly flips you over, helping you onto your hands and knees.

You the mattress creek as he positions himself behind you. A quick look over your shoulder results in him gripping your hair and pushing your face into his pillows. "Stay just like that." He warns.

"Seriously? What, y-you're not going to let me look at you? Or kiss you?"

"Do you want me to fuck you or not?" The irritation returning to his gravely voice.

You close your eyes and try to stop your tears. You exhale a deep, steadying breath before you reply, "Yes, Jay, of course I do."

"Then quit complaining." The mattress shifts again as Jason moves behind you, his still clothed legs pressed against your rear. His left hand rests firmly on your waist, and a second later you feel him rub the tip of his cock against your clit. He drags himself up to the entrance of your cunt slowly, them back down again. He languidly repeats this back and fourth several times while he mutters under his breath "Shit... look at you, doll, touched your pussy for 5 seconds and you're already soaked for me." Jason smacks his shaft against your cunt a few times, your body visibly tensing when you feel the tip press against your asshole. "Relax," Jason scoffs, "I know you don't like that shit. You couldn't handle me in there before, there's no way you could take me there now."

Jason's weight shifts forward, pressing his hips into you. It only takes a moment for him to find the give and sheath the tip of his engorged length inside of your cunt. Green eyes stare in awe as he watches himself slowly disappear inside of you, pausing halfway, savoring how warm and wet you feel. He curses when your inner muscles clench and relax in little spasms as you try and accommodate him. "So fucking tight, goddammit, doll, shit, shiiit... feels so good when you do that."

Your eyes roll back at how badly you've missed the feeling him inside of you. This part, this feels familiar. This doesn't feel like a stranger. Your heart fills with relief, a sense of comfort washing over you and helping you to relax.

Jason pushes even further inside when your inner walls lax around his girth. A soft hiss escapes your teeth when his crown kisses your cervix. It's too bad that you miss the grin on his face as he takes in your reaction.

"You really haven't been with anyone else, have you? Tssk." Jason slaps your ass and watches the slight recoil in awe. "I can tell. You held out. You know what that tells me?" His large hands plant themselves on either side of you against the bed. Jason leans down, shifting his weight onto you and forcing you down into the mattress, prone-bone, fully bottoming out inside your tight cunt.

A whimper falls from your throat at the sting of how he stretches you. It creates an ache deep inside of you, deep enough that only he could reach.

"Tells me you knew I was still around. You're a liar."

"W-what?" That sense of ease and comfort is gone just as quick as it came.

Jason says your name in disapproval, "We both know you're loyal to a fault. That's why you're here. That's why you put up with my shit." His clothed chest presses against the soft skin of your back as his hips begin a slow rolling motion, thrusting into you while he brings his lips to your ear, brushing against your earring. "Me dying is the only way you could ever move on from me. But I did die. And you didn't move on. Which means you knew. You knew I was alive. Which is why you didn't betray me, even when Dick was practically throwing himself at you."

His pace increases as he speaks. His words are tainted with an bitter smugness, which makes your stomach churn.

"Jason, Jay, baby, that doesn't make any sense. I really t-thought you were gone-hmmpht!" Jason gives a sharper thrust which interrupts your explanation.

"Then why didn't you move on?" He's asks in a tense whisper.

"I couldn't!" You cry out in exasperation.

"Exactly".

His hips are rolling faster against you now, only pulling out an inch or so before thrusting back in, too greedy to pull out any further. He stays deep and buries himself as far as possible inside your neglected cunt. The friction feels divine, even if the rough cotton of his t-shirt is rubbing against your back instead of his bare chest. You long for skin to skin. The closeness is something you crave, but Jason, for whatever reason, decides to deprive you of it, even though he's balls deep in your guts.

"Fuck off!" You spit out between your shallow pants and moans. "You're being a jerk!"

"Yeah?" His voice strains as his pace picks up even more. The mattress is squeaking softly and bumping up against the wall with each rut of his hips. "I'm a jerk? You think I'm a jerk?"

You moan in frustration and pound your fist against the mattress. It's difficult for you to find the right words to say when his cock is hitting all the right spots inside you. You've dreamt of this, being forced to live with the longing inside of you for a partner you thought you'd never see again. It's everything you've been craving, to be one with him again. But he's souring the intimacy with his smartass mouth.

"I don't wanna fight, Jay." You mutter in response to him. Jason's hand cradles the back of your head and pushes it further into the pillows. You're almost ashamed at how it turns you on, being crushed and handled roughly by him like this.

"Ha, don't believe that for a second." A warm hand snakes down the side of your body and slips around your hips so he has access to your clit. He's still pistoning deep into you, now nipping and biting at your neck as his fingers work your sensitive nub, sandwiched between your body and the mattress. The added stimulation makes you squeeze your thighs together. "C'mon, too late to be shy, doll. Open up f’me." His voice is a gruff rumble in you ear. It sends a chill down you spine and makes your toes curl, clenching around him to alleviate the pool of tension building in your core.

You should have better self control. You should rise above, be better than his antics. But your mind is reeling and trying to reconcile how good he’s making you feel with how irritated you are. So without much thought, you quip back, “Says the man who won't even take his shirt off when he fucks."

“The fuck did you just say?” Jason pinches your clit between his fingers, earning a sharp yelp from you that’s muffled against his pillows. His pace doesn’t falter, but his body tenses as the anger finds him again.

The sting lingers, and you push your thighs together even more, effectively squeezing him out of you somewhat unintentionally.

“No, none of that now, you’re going to let me in.”

A deep inhale blesses your lungs when Jason pushes himself up off of you, leaning back and grabbing your hips to force you on your hands and knees once more. You grip the sheets and steady yourself, unprepared for the harsh smack that stings your ass cheek.

“Ouch!” You whimper, taking a chance to look back at him again. Your lips part to voice your protest, but Jason chooses this moment to impale your body back onto him and fill up your dripping cunt in a single jolt. You swallow the cry that threatens to leave your lips. You feel so full, your eyes flutter when he starts his pace up again, the sound of wet skin smacking against wet skin filling the apartment. He’s going faster now, his fingers almost painful on your hips as the uses your body for release.

“Look at how wet you are, doll, shit.” Jason’s eyes are heavy with desire as the line between lust and anger starts to dissolve. “You know what I think?” He asks through gritted teeth.

You’re hardly in a state to answer him. The friction of his arousal pounding in and out of you, the weight of his heavy balls slapping against your clit, the sound of him straining and losing control, its making it difficult to focus on much else. As your arousal builds, your brain slows down, unable to comprehend anything other than your boyfriends cock filling you to the brim.

“I think you like when I’m mean. Look at how soaked you are right now, dripping onto my bed like a greedy slut.”

A low, depraved moan vibrates in your throat, only further proving his point.

“Ha, that’s right. Fucking… fucking knew it, god- fuck, taking me so good, so fucking good.” Jason moans your name, repeating it as he senses his release getting closer. His fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your hips, hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow.

“Fucking love this, I… I… dammit, I love you, doll. I love you so much.” Jason's filter is gone. He’s lost in the feeling of your soft pussy squeezing him, the wet sounds of your sex bringing him to the brink.

Each hard thrust of his hips has your body recoiling. Your chest falls down to the bed, hands gripping the pillow for dear life as the vigilante relentlessly pounds into you.

“I said... I love you, bitch.” His voice actually wavers slightly at the repeated admission, his emotions peaking and threatening to spill out.

You try to respond to him, you really do. But Jason fucks the air right out of your lungs, moving at a bruising pace, ramming himself so deep in your body that your vision is blurry and nothing even close to a real word has a chance at leaving your lips. You're breathless and cock drunk as he abuses that soft spot inside of you, building up your pleasure to an unbearable level. You're close. And so is he. You tremble and pant as your orgasm hits you hard, a warm fuzzy sensation radiating between your legs where your bodies meet, more of your slick splattering Jason's thighs in droplets from how hard he's fucking you. The sensation of your pussy convulsing around his hard length is the final push he needs.

You attempt to muffle the fragmented scream that falls from your mouth at his last few brutal thrusts. Jason curses, his breath catching as his balls tighten and release his load into you, mixing with your own fluids to create a sticky mess that oozes out around his cock. His hips finally slow, giving a few more gentle pumps as he rides his high. His labored breathing is accompanied by more curses and soft groans. You stay still, reeling from your own release, your mind still fuzzy and not thinking clearly.

Jason leans forward, putting his weight one hand while the other reaches for your flushed face, reaching around to grip your chin firmly. Following his lead, you let him turn your head to finally look back at him. The anger is still there. You're not sure if it will ever go away. But there is a vulnerability in his eyes that wasn't there before. He's still inside of you, hunched over your body, flushed face only inches from yours.

"Say it back."

Your eyes widen at how broken he sounds. It takes a few seconds before you can get your mouth to move, but as soon as you've gathered yourself you respond, you say "I love you, Jason" with as much tenderness as you can muster.

He nods, eyes narrowing, before finally sitting up and removing himself from you. "Good." He mumbles, moving until he's sitting on the edge of the bed and sighing. "Remember that next time you threaten to leave."

"It... it wasn't a threat." You explain, but you're so breathless and fucked-out that you're not sure if he hears you. Relaxing onto the bed, you lay on your side to look at him with worry. The emotions inside of you are tumultuous, confusing you even further as you try and decide if this was progress or not.

"I keep you around because you belong here. With me." Jason stands up, avoiding your anxious gaze and keeping his back to you. "Don't fucking forget it." His feat thud against the floor as he walks over to the bathroom, disappearing and closing the door behind him with a slam.

⭓ masterlist ⭓

please don’t steal my work. don't upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.

[invisible-lint]

Not Quite Soulmates

AzrielxReader

Summary: Azriel introduces you to his family when your mating bond snaps... Just not with him

Warnings: light angst?

Word Count: 1.1k

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, trying to decide if you liked this dress better than the last one. You had been seeing Azriel for the better part of six months, and tonight you were going to meet his family for the first time. You smile, thinking back to when you had first met the Shadowsinger. 

You had been at work, shelving books on the top shelf, when suddenly the ladder you were standing on broke and you fell. You had expected to hit the ground, only to be caught by Azriels strong arms instead. Despite that being like something out of a romance book, it had taken Azriel some time to get you to go on a date with him. It wasn't that you hadn't been attracted to him, you absolutely were. But you had been unlucky in love, and convinced yourself you were destined to be alone. 

He would come into the store and ask for recommendations and then come back to talk about the book with you before asking for another recommendation. This went on for months before eventually you had asked him out when one of your coworkers had said she would if you didn't. 

And now, six months later, you were so glad that you had. You couldn't imagine your life without him in it. 

You're drawn out of your thoughts by arms wrapping around your waist and a kiss pressed to your shoulder. 

"You look beautiful." 

"Yeah? I wasn't sure if I should wear this dress or the purple one." He presses more kisses across your shoulder and up your neck. You smile, tilting your head to the side as he does. 

"Definitely this one. I have a... Very fond memory of this dress." You laugh, knowing exactly what very fond memory he was thinking of. You had worn this dress to dinner before taking him to your bed for the first time. 

"Keep it in your pants Azzie. We'll have plenty of time for that later tonight, after dinner." 

He takes a step back, sighing, holding his hand out for you. You take it with a smile, and he leads you out the door.

It's a nice late summer evening, so the two of you walk to the River House. He stops you just outside the door, eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's not too late to back out, we can always head back home and I can come up with an excuse." 

You shake your head, laughing. "You have been putting this off for far too long already. Either you're nervous, or you're trying to get me naked." 

"A bit of both." He admits. 

"Well too bad, because we're going in. And you're going to have to deal with all of your favorite people ganging up to tease you." He laughs, shaking his head and leads you inside. The two of you head for the sitting room where everyone is mingling before dinner. 

Azriel leads you around the room, introducing you to everyone as he does. You make eye contact with the long haired Illyrian you assume is Cassian, the brother Azriel has told you so much about. Azriel starts to lead you over to him and you freeze, eyes widening. A mating bond has snapped into place, but not with your boyfriend. No, it snapped into place with his brother. And going off the look on his face, it snapped for him too. You both curse at the same time, drawing attention from the rest of the room. Azriel looks at you, his expression asking what's wrong. You have two options. You can tell them what just happened, or you can run. You choose the latter, running out of the sitting room and down the hall, out the front door. You follow the Sidra, paying no attention to where you’re going. 

You run until you trip over a rock, tumbling to the soggy ground next to the river. You lay there, looking at the stars, slowly starting to dance across the sky. Perhaps you could move courts, because you certainly couldn't continue to date Azriel. Not without rejecting the mating bond. And you can't stand the idea of living so close to your mate and not being with him. Yes. You'll move courts. As you lay on the river bank, imagining which court you'll move to and your new life there, Azriel lands nearby, calling out your name. You sit up and look at him, biting your lip. “Azzie… I…”

“I know. Cassian told us everything.” He sits next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and you lean against him. 

“I guess this means we have to break up…” 

“Because you want to be with him?” 

“Because I would have to reject the bond to be with you. And you could never look at me the same way again knowing I'm the reason he's in so much pain.” 

“And you want to be with him.” 

“Why do you keep saying that?” 

“Every single romance book you recommend was about mates. Even the ones that weren't romances, if they happened to have a relationship, they were mates. You want a mating bond.” 

“I don't want to hurt you.”

“It will take some time, but I'll be okay.”

You lean away so you can look up at him, but his face is blank, unreadable. You frown, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You hate when he does this, shoves all signs of emotion away, leaving you unable to tell what he's feeling. 

“I don't want to lose you.”

“I don't want to lose you either. I'd rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all. Take some time to wrap your head around it if you need to, but you should get to know him before you make a decision.” 

You nod. “I suppose I won't run away to the Summer Court then.”

“What?” 

“Before you got here I was debating leaving for another court. I was thinking about the Summer Court.” 

Azriel shakes his head. “Rhys and I had to talk Cass out of running away to Windhaven. The two of you are ridiculous.” 

You stick your tongue out at him. “I think it's a perfectly reasonable reaction to the situation.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, standing and helping you up. “I'm taking you back before you can convince yourself running away is the best option again.” He picks you up, holding you in tight as he takes off, flying back to the River House, back to your mate, breaking his own heart.

A/N: I have plans for what's essentially a happier part 2 with Cassian and also I'm sorry I love Azriel and I want him to be happy but I haven't written anything happy for him yet oops. Feel free to send in requests! I won't be posting this week, but I will still be writing!

[ironunderstands]

All of Aventio’s implications that I can remember because someone has to compile them 

Massive disclaimer: the purpose of this slideshow is not to prove that Aventio is canon (even if I personally think it is), but rather to demonstrate the relationship these two have in canon, as well as disprove the misconception that they hate one another, because no, they absolutely do not. This list is also in no particular order so expect a lot of jumping around in the story. I hope you enjoy reading! 

Dr. Ratio added gambling to his update for the Simulated universe, and said a certain gambler would enjoy it, despite Ratio’s known dislike of gambling. 

He put his all into carrying out Aventurine’s betrayal plan, and Aventurine trusted him to execute it correctly, despite the plan/going to Penacony having no obvious gain on Ratio’s end.

Dr. Ratio gave Aventurine this note urging him to keep on living despite the pains of his past and the agony of the present, wishing a man who is already known for his luck the best of it, something which helps Aventurine survive the manifestation of IX. I am insane about this note and could yap on and on about it, but I will spare you the delusions for now haha. 

Dr. Ratio wears his headpiece around those he finds to be unintelligent and not worth his time, but he has never once on screen worn it around Aventurine, signaling that he finds the man to be both intelligent and worthy of his attention. 

Aventurine doubts his own intelligence and worth in his voiceline about Dr. Ratio, believing that the scholar doesn’t care for him. However, in Ratio’s voiceline about Aventurine, he commends Aventurine for his competence and skill, pointing out that his success is not in-fact just due to his luck, and if he keeps doubting himself he will meet the fate of those praying on his downfall.

Aventurine is also the only person to actually have voicelines about Dr. Ratio so far, despite Ratio having interacted with many others, meaning he’s the closest in canon to Aventurine, seeing that he’s the only one who talks about him. (Hopefully Screwllum has a line on Ratio when he comes out bc I am starving for Ratio content lmao). 

Aventurine’s first eidolon name is Prisoner’s Dilemma, which refers to a game theory in which two people can only achieve the best outcome of their situation if they put their faith one another while being unable to communicate/physically separated, and it mirrors the dynamic Ratio and Aventurine had on Penacony while acting out the betrayal plan. Which could mean nothing. 

His 6th eidolon name is Stag Hunt Game, which refers to another game theory based on trust, and is again, reminiscent of Ratio and Aventurine’s plan. Basically, they trust each other a hell of a lot, to the point where his eidolons are named after similar games of trust, which is no accident, as well, there’s countless game theories, and hoyo went with the ones specifically centered around trust between two people. For example his E4 is another one of those theories, but has nothing to do with trust, so they specifically selected his first and last eidolon to be about it, interesting.

The name of the 2.1 quest that just involves Ratio and Aventurine is Double Indemnity, which not only refers to the legal matter but also a famous romance and thriller movie in the 1950s by the same name. Notably, it shares a lot of plot points with that of the 2.1 quest as a whole, and the fmc is always portrayed as blond, just like Aventurine. 

There is also a scene within Double Indemnity that shares a lot of parallels between itself and the Final Victor lightcone. However in the movie scene she is holding the gun, whereas in the lightcone Ratio is, even if Aventurine is holding it to his chest.

Also if you want a more in depth analysis on how this movie relates to them, this person made a great one on tumblr :@anominous-user. (without the period, also it’s long as hell though be warned). 

You receive the track “Spellbound” after completing the Double Indemnity mission.

It is also the name of a 1945 film by Alfred Hitchcock, which is a Thriller, Noir and you guessed it, features romance as a major part of the plot. Its story also seems to have parallels to Aventio’s, but I’m not gonna get into that for now.

Notably, spellbound also means to hold the complete attention of someone, which is more often than not romantic, as only people you love/admire can captivate you like that. 

The bathtub couch Aventurine gets Ratio during his demo (and is the only time the seating ever changes in demos) is reminiscent of the bathtub couch from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and you guessed it, its another romance.

He constantly flirts with Ratio in the pinball section of the Double Indemnity trailer, even going so far as to a) have the “Doctor you’re huge” line become a massive meme in the community b) he literally says the view is breathtaking when the only view is the giant Ratio he’s staring at. Honestly this entire section is so chock full of romance tropes (seriously what writer let their size difference kink into the story) that I have no idea how it passed censorship.

Aventurine also flirts with Ratio in the 2.0 scene by asking where his alabaster head is, which means he’s seen him wear it before. However, even when Dr. Ratio is acting, supposedly yelling at Aventurine for being a useless fool, he doesn’t wear the mask meaning he doesn’t truly feel that way.

They also have designated nicknames for one another, that are exclusive to them only. Dr. Ratio only ever calls Aventurine “gambler” while in his presence, and although Aventurine calls him Ratio sometimes, he often refers to Ratio as Doc/Doctor (Professor too in the CN) when talking to him. What’s interesting is that nobody else seems to refer to either of them with these names, meaning they made them for one another.

Despite the fact that throughout Penacony, Dr. Ratio’s job is to sell the betrayal plan, he still apologizes to Aventurine in the 2.0 argument scene, and looks away during Aventurine’s sentencing presumably out of guilt/to not break his poker face when the other looks at him. He also not so kindly tells Sunday to visit a shrink (therapist), which should tell you how much his actions concern and upset Ratio.

He also breaks his act again to check in on Aventurine. Hmm. 

Anyways time for the Aventurine keeping up with starrail speedrun because OH LORD, I’m gonna number these by image so I don’t exceed the count LMAOO. The first few are numbered by image, and the next are numbered by the columns of images, and I can clarify in the comments if you’re confused!

1) Owlbert calling them good friends (which Mr. Tsundere denies, although he says Aven isn’t awful to work with) 

2) PRAISE OWLBERT

3) This line is very significant because only 3% of Dr. Ratio’s students ever pass his classes, in which they become experts in their fields. So, if Aventurine earns a passing grade in Dr. Ratio’s book, that means he’s exceptional to him as almost nobody does. 

1) Ratio says his flashy outfits just make his job harder which ??? What do you mean by that sir do you not like seeing other people lay eyes on Aventurine serving cvnt? Why are you so worried about how his jobs go? Hmmm? Throughout the whole video he also keeps saying Aventurine shouldn’t take up fights in the first place, and the more logical thing to do would be to run away. Worried about our dear gambler Ratio?

2) How well do you know this man that you know his personal motto 😭 look genuinely idc if you leave this shipping them or not, how the hell are you gonna deny their friendship after this at the very least. 

Ok homoverse/j Anyways basically what’s going on here is that the little showcase of Aventurine’s kit ended and Ratio gave him a compliment. Owlbert says it seems like there is some mutual respect between them. Interesting, instead of denying it, Ratio asks, “What did he say about me?” implying that Ratio respects Aventurine, but he did not realize the other respected him back. 

1) Which causes Owlbert to spill this, which speaks for itself, Aventurine believes Ratio is the person who knows him best, so he invited him to be on the show. 

2) Which results in perhaps the greatest display of Ratio’s tsundereness to this day, also Owlberts face I can’t 

1) It seems Ratio didn’t think Aventurine knew him so well, but oh boy it gets better (worse for Ratio though LMAOO)

2) Caught your ass in 4k, also please just go and listen to this demo again I don’t think Ratio could sound more flustered if he tried. 

Apologies for the fuckass title card getting in the way no I don’t know how to remove it, but if you look closely in the first one, you can see a little sweat drop by Ratio’s face, which is again, another common trope with Tsundere’s when they get called out on their bs. “I really can’t tell what the deal is between you two,” me too Owlbert, me too.

Aventurine knows Ratio is in the council of Mundanites, information that is only a rumor to the rest of the galaxy, and Ratio trusts him with this information.

Acheron calls them friends, thank you Queen louder for the dumbasses in the back! Apparently there’s also a note somewhere in Penacony that talks about her, Argenti and of course Ratio being the ones to save Aventurine, so if I can find it, I’ll include it in the next part. 

Oh and don’t you think I’m done w this ridiculous lightcone for one second. I’m  well aware it’s a display of Aventurine’s su1c1dal tendencies, hell I was and still am the biggest supporter of that, however I also have eyes and yeah this fucking thing is really h0rny oh my god. “He provocatively looks at the man before him,” ok, could have picked any other wording but you picked that one 😭.

Also, a key detail of this lightcone that people miss is that it’s, well, a lightcone. A lightcone we get in 2.0 as soon as it drops, and since lightcones are canonically condensed memories, this happened way before the events of 2.0, and is likely how Aventurine convinced Ratio to join him jn the betrayal plan. 

Moreover, Aventurine says “remain amicable,” meaning this isn’t their first meeting, and him and Ratio had at least been talking to one another for some time before this, which could mean their friendship/partnership/whatever the hell this is has dated back to perhaps even prior to 1.6 when we meet Ratio for the first time, but ultimately that’s just speculation. 

Lastly, for this mini lightcone rant: the animated version of it. Oh lord. 1) Camden and Jordan put their all into it istg 😭 2) Ratio pulls the gun back but Aventurine stops him, meaning that a) Ratio didn’t want him to get hurt, but he b) accepted Aventurine’s provocation, 3) Aventurine LEANS CLOSER to him while teasing him with his whole “why not doctor~,” sh1t and 4) if you look closely at both the animated and still versions of it, there’s a tiny spark of light in Aventurine’s normally dead eyes, which is just, yeah. 

Ratios party voiceline for Aventurine. This is a complicated one because it is meant to be b1tchy in both languages (this is a tumblr post on it by @devxoid which goes over the nuance surrounding it. The TLDR is: directly translated, it means “take care of yourself, gambler, I need not your worry/concern,” but its actual meaning is far closer to the “fuck off” vibes in the CN. However, two this complicate this, 1) he sounds far calmer/neutral in the CN and 2) Ratio is the biggest goddamn tsundere on this planet, so even if he sounds mean, he does genuinely want Aventurine to take care of himself, as Ratio’s tried and true method of getting people to better themselves is by being rude to them, so it’s actually fairly in character, it’s just I think the way the line was directed in EN was a bit too harsh and threw some people off 

Finally, here’s some more silly ones that don’t really mean anything on their own until you put them into the context of everything else:

Their status as package deal do not seperate in both the data bank and the profile pictures is extremely funny because they have no reason to be next to each other like that, they just are.

Their kits are also designed to synergize perfectly with one another, and in the livestream Ratio was put in the team to demonstrate Aventurine’s kit because well, they are made to work together. Aventurine is by far Dr. Ratio’s best sustain unit due to the debuffs he provides (alongside everything else) which only gets better with eidolons + his signature lightcone, and if you have ever played Ratio you know how much he likes debuffs. As for Aventurine, his arguably  best team is the FUA one with Robin, Topaz and well, Ratio, who is the main dps of the team. Honestly besides trying to zero cycle MOC there is no reason as to why you would run Ratio with any other support unit if you have Aventurine. 

I hope you enjoyed reading! Also, this is absolutely not everything, just all the stuff that’s easy to point out, and I’m not even getting into an actual analysis of the plot and how that demonstrates their relationship. Moreover, I don’t expect you to leave this shipping them if you don’t already like them, but I at least want to demonstrate that they are without a doubt close friends in canon, and there’s no denying it. I definitely missed some so feel free to point out more, as I might make a part two, as these are just all the ones off the top of my head. Continually, for the people who like Aventio, hopefully this serves as some sort of guidebook/reference to their implications/interactions, and if you have any moots who love this ship, I’d recommend tagging them in this bc I think they would love it! Have a good day :D

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

xi. eleven: every word you say

the sunlight did not reach her face. there was no sunlight in sight at all, aside from the most external door that shows a little hint of the visible spectrum. she stirred awake on the hard floor she slept, if she had any at all. she slowly sat up, finding the colonel on the adjacent cell, staring into nothingness.

they have yet to acknowledge each other's presence, trapped in their own battles inside. it was a surreal thing—to feel that it was both the end and the beginning. they have long let go of any hopes in receiving a lighter sentence, and that act is what made it possible for them to breathe despite the stifling feeling.

they have found freedom. losing all hope was freedom.

hence, the young silva raised her gaze to the ragged man across. his rank is not apparent on his current state, stripped off of dignity and proper legacy. she pulled him to the deepest ocean floor a man has never explored to.

"i am so sorry, raphael." raine broke the silence, feeling utterly apologetic for bringing the man with her in this fate.

"there is no need." he replied, closing his eyes as he leaned on the wall.

there really was no need. although his tone may have sounded frustrated, it was not directed to the girl. coming to think of it, he believes he would have done the same. he actually did, when he admitted to the suspicions just so she could be saved. the young silva, however, was hardheaded. a small chuckle left his lips as he looked at her in thought.

"you know, your father would be proud."

"oh, silence." raine rolled her eyes in jest, "i have not slept well with how much my eyes poured last night. do not make me cry again."

"but it is true."

"i know," she turned to him with weak eyes, "he asked me one time, if he was being too forceful in making me the viscountess or also the fact that he taught me things that a proper lady would not have preferred."

she laughed at the memory of her father teaching her how to hold a dagger at four, and her mother in utter worry as she caught them both.

"he was afraid he turned me into something he wanted instead of being someone I want to be."

the lady chuckled before continuing, "i told him I do not see myself embroidering at all. he laughed like crazy."

raphael weakly laughed at the story. by the mention of the girl's teaching experiences, a memory resurfaced in his mind as well.

"did you know that your father used to say you shoot like—i apologise for the term we use in the military amongst men—a virgin?"

despite being above average compared to the general public, her shooting really did not pass her father's standards. she could shoot, yes, but it would not have been enough for war. armand concluded that it was enough at the very least for self-defense.

raphael lifted one end of his lips, "i bet he would say otherwise now."

"that is because now i am not." she said with indifference, missing the way the man sat up from his leaning, turning to her fully.

"...wait, what—you mean...?" he asked curiously, his will returning to his voice in spite of their current situation.

raine looked at him and she found it interesting how curious he was at the topic. she let out a short giggle before slowly nodding. his mouth noticeably went ajar at that as he pried more.

"the bridgerton son?" she nodded once again, raphael leaning back down in surprise, shaking his head in disbelief, "your father is going to kill you."

"no need. the crown is doing it for him."

both laughed in chorus—how they could still jest in a situation like this is lost. perhaps, it was there saving grace. little joys do really count.

"i cannot fathom what you could possibly find so amusing in a place like this."

the queen's voice announced her arrival, her face grimacing in disgust at the place. the two greeted her with respect, standing from their position. she looked around, as if assessing their surroundings before settling her eyes to the girl.

her majesty sighed resignedly, "why ever did you have to shoot him?"

"he talked too much."

"that he did." she had no problem agreeing with that statement at all. the lord had been bothering her as well before about royal familial matters.

she clasped her hands, forming the words to say, "i have spoken to have a private execution for you both. it was granted. this is the least i could do, considering everyone has voted for a beheading instead of hanging."

raine nodded thankfully at that. she did not care much. either way, they would be dead. she inquired further, "the soldiers?"

"all free from the charges."

the two released a breath of relief. that was one of their main goals—for the rest of the troop to be able to go home and spend the following years with their families.

"thank you, aunt lottie. that is all i ask." she smiled warmly to the older woman.

"it will be in an hour." the queen noted, pertaining to the execution.

it must already be five in the afternoon already. the young silva did not know how time flew by so fast. she neared the girl, pushing a hand through the bars of her cell. raine held her hand as she continued.

"make death proud to take us."

raphael and raine's ears perked at that, their brows crossing as the queen took back her hand slowly, "how do you know of it?"

charlotte offered them a smile before she turned away, "your father had been a good company."

after the queen, major gilbert and the viscount bridgerton also stopped to visit them. the former relayed the gratefulness of the soldiers by the news of their freedom, while the latter updated her on how the queen is working on for a proper investigation against the said involved people in the treason with the help of the papers that was left to him. they did not take long, of course. the prison had that effect. it was very suffocating.

yet, her breath came back at the sight of the man in front of her.

"what are you doing here?" she said in concern, her lips quivering as she scrambled on her feet.

benedict reached to her, cupping her face with a tearful smile, "i told you. i will always be here."

she shut her eyes in shame of her current state, "you should not see me like this."

he chuckled with tears in his eyes, "like painfully beautiful?"

"like dying." she corrected in all honesty as he went silent, his heavy breathing speaking for himself.

his lips formed a thin line, features traced with painstaking gaze, "you are so unfair."

"i know," she admitted, knowing exactly what he meant, "i am so sorry."

he hushed her, his palms still on her cheeks as he soothed—both tracing the tear marks that intensified their emotions.

"forget about me. let go of this grief completely." she bleakly uttered, torment clear on her voice.

benedict immediately responded a multiple series of 'no' with an intense shaking of his head in disagreement. he would do anything to not forget her, both the joy and painful memories. he would cherish everything that she was present in. he would cling onto every word she utters.

"and in case you do forget about me," she continued, cupping his face with the utmost care, "i hope you remember by my touch alone.

he nodded fervently, "i love you."

he leaned his head to hers, their breaths exchanging as if he was used to the taste of pain on a dead friday night.

"i love you too."

they wanted to be together for as long as they could, and if that's not very long, well, then that's just how it is. and so, they held each other for the last time, coming to terms that if this life will be this cruel, he would spend the rest of his life praying that the next will not be.

he wanted to badly stay with her, to stop the time and prolong this moment. but, it seemed like he had angered the gods as a guard knocked his truncheon on the door, calling for him to exit for the fifteen-minute preparation before the execution.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

no later, guards entered the cells, taking both prisoners with no austerity in their touch. it was so strange for them to the point that it was hard to swallow. they have seized and lead criminals of darkest crimes to their end, yet they find themselves wanting to break the two out.

a viscountess and a colonel, both still children in their own way.

they have never thought there comes a day they would dread their work, and the executioner would say the same. because just as they all arrived in the execution stage, the forty-five soldiers, four members of the bridgerton family, and the queen are in attendance. as she caught sight of them, raine offered a brief, forlorn smile. these people are the ones who she is most thankful of.

executions happen at a faster pace than the young silva thought. one moment they were walking, the next they were kneeling. the executioner bowed to the both of them when they arrived, now asking for forgiveness on the duty he must do in a while. loraine granted him that.

he stood back up, announcing clearly, "you have been granted to speak your final words."

she turned to take a look at raphael, the latter nodding as a sign for her to speak for them both. raine casted her head down in thinking of the words she must say for the last time. she looked back at them all, to no one in particular, and dared to raise her eyes to her terrible fate as she began.

"when a crime goes unpunished, the world is unbalanced. when the wrong is unavenged, the heavens look down on us in shame. we too must die for this circle of vengeance to be closed. we will leave this record of our courage so the world will know who we were and what we did."

as she ended, they both tied the cloth firmly to cover their eyes. at the absence of sight, fear started to creep in. she could hear the executioner stepping away from her and to the colonel first. he declared with resolve, a means of comforting the two souls.

"death is proud to take you."

raine exhaled peacefully at that. it was a reply to their previous convictions—a way of reassuring they have done well.

and so, she did not panic, even when the sound of a drop on the floor filled the place.

raphael had been a great friend, soldier, and a person. the silva would not mind having to fight beside him once again.

the room stayed silent, with no other noise but the small whimpers of the audience. however, it was immediately overshadowed by the sound of footsteps, nearing her one step at a time. she guessed this must be it.

loraine's mind became blank. she hurried herself to think of memories—those that she would love to relive. she had a strange belief that it would not be as painful if she was feeling happy. but, it was also strangely hard to be one in the moment. all she could think of was that maybe, dying is the best option for her in this life. there was no home for her anymore.

and when she greets death, she hoped it is gentle. she hoped it is like going home. she believed a great happiness awaited her somewhere.

and for this reason, she remained calm as the axe hit her neck.

the audience found themselves letting go of the prolonged silence, breaking out to their cries. however, one person did not have any tear or voice left in himself anymore as he stared at the trail of blood that was starting to accumulate and flow away from the body.

indeed, a lot can happen in a day.

he was annoyed by her in one, taken by her in one, and loved her in one. he is grieving for her in one, and he will long for her in one.

and so, he was left with nothing but to face reality—realising that a very frightening thought is now shadowing him intimately.

when tomorrow depends to a person, what should one do? when that person is lost, does that mean tomorrow is too?

love was there. it may have not changed anything. it may have not saved anyone. but, it still matters that the love was there.

because, raine did not need to be saved. she needed to be found and appreciated for who exactly she was. her father has taught her that this world was only a preparation for the next, that all they can ask is to leave it having loved and being loved.

and benedict, until the very last moment, made that known to her and everyone else. she was found. she was appreciated. she was loved.

all by him.

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @myo11 @idek-what-to-put @aysamuka

[ifancyharry]

Close as strangers

Harry hurried down the hallway all the way to his room, sliding the key card against the key-reader, unlocking the door and pushing it open with his palms pressed against it.

He quickly removed his shoes, tossing them near the door, before plopping down on the hotel bed, his back against the headboard.

He fished out of his skinny jeans his phone, grimacing at the screen that read 3 missed calls from ‘Angel <3’.

He sighed as he unlocked it, typing hurriedly the number he knew by heart on the keyboard, and putting it on speaker, too tired to hold the phone to his shoulder for the call.

He waited for her to pick up as he listened to the incessant ringing of the line.

“Pick up, pick up” he whispered, biting at the skin of his thumb to suppress his sighs.

He knew he was late. And he felt like he could only imagine the disappointment YN felt when he didn’t answer her call.

He and YN had picked out a specific time throughout the day where the both of them had to be available. No matter what the other was doing, at 7 o’clock they had to answer the phone, which was a pretty understandable rule, and Harry had found it easy to comply to it at first, excusing himself to take a call or getting covered by his band mates if he couldn’t make up an excuse quickly enough. But with time, his schedule had gotten really busy.

And he sometimes missed her calls.

He wasn’t the fresh out of XFactor sixteen year old he’d been when they first started dating. He was Harry from One Direction now, and despite him feeling as the same shy guy that worked in a bakery, life around him had changed, and with it, his relationship.

He knew how she was; he knew she wasn’t answering because she was upset. And Harry really didn’t blame her, but he just didn’t find it reasonable to be upset (“stubborn little thing! — he’d say, once she had calmed down and answered the phone — It doesn’t benefit neither of us if you don’t pick up ‘cause you’re mad!”).

He rolled his eyes once the line went dead, and opened the text app instead, typing quickly with his fingers.

Baby pick up I wanna talk to you

After a couple of minutes, he wrote again: please

I miss you

And after that, he tried the line once again. This time, she picked up after five rings with a small “hello?”, her voice sounded croaky distorted from the phone.

“Hello angel. I’m sorry I didn’t answer.”

“It’s okay”, and Harry felt her sigh through the phone, “i was thinking we should push back the calls until you’re back…”

“What?”

“I know you’re pretty busy,” she said, sternly, “and I don’t want to bother you.”

“What?” Harry repeated, and once he realized he already asked that, he cleared his voice and said: “you could never be a bother”.

YN couldn’t see him but she knew he was shaking his head. She tried not to picture the frown in his brows and the pout in his face, otherwise she couldn’t possibly keep going.

“Things are different now—”

“No.” He cut her off, “don’t say that, angel. Nothing’s changed. It’s still us.”

“Harry” she softened her tone to make sure he really understood her, “it’s still us. — she nodded firmly to herself — I think it’s best if we stick to texting for now. It’s okay.”

“Okay… okay, if that’s - if that’s what you want. Okay.”

“It’s better this way” she sighed once again and Harry felt her breathing through the phone, her shaky breath loud in his ears as if it were his own.

“But we’re good, right? Tell me we’re good.”

“Yes, of course we’re good.”

Harry nodded, staying quiet as the words she’d just spoken lingered in the air between them. Despite being so far away he could almost feel her right next to him as she kept talking, unaware of the heavy weight he felt on his chest making it a little harder to breathe, the sudden realization that maybe they weren’t good after all.

Hi lovelies!!! I was cleaning my drafts and I saw this thing I wrote ages ago, based on Close as strangers by 5sos. Lmk if it’s something you’d like to read and I will publish the whole thing!

[moodymisty]

I was looking through your various works and I got this idea from a previous ask you received. The one where it’s after Sainguinus dies and how this new curse the black rage acts when you, Sainguinus’s beloved are around. The request mentioned your presence either mellowing them out or making them worse. You decided to go with their presence making the black rage worse, but it got me thinking about how you mellowing them out could actually make them worse.

Now let’s set the scene, your presences calms down your sons and decreases the probability of any of them falling to the Black Rage’s call. In some cases it can even bring them back from the brink. You provide a partial solution to this new awful pandemic plaguing the Blood Angels. There no way this net positive could cause any problems down the line.

Wrong.

For the sons of Sainguinus, you are their legion mother, their saviour, their oasis. Your presence provides a calmness and peace that is rarely found in the constant warfare of the 41st millennium. You are able to save them from one of the curses that runs through their blood, preventing them from being reduced to nothing but berserkers.

The reverence they already have for you is magnified to unfathomable measures and the place you hold in their hearts as high as their dearly departed primarch’s.

This naturally leads to intensified protection and you gaining even more eyes on you, at all times of the day. After all, now that it’s known you can help their condition they surely have to ensure your safety from any of their enemy who would seek to see you killed and in doing deal a catastrophic blow to the chapter’s morale. And you just have to simply get used to this new situation and shoulder the ever increasing guard and protection of your sons

After all, your the leash that pulls them back from the dark abyss of their minds. But beyond even that fact, they can’t bear to lose you. They love and adore you so greatly that should they lose you, their no telling what they would do.

Just imaging what unleashed monsters they could become without you is enough for you to submit to the suffocating guard. But the weight of worship falls heavy and you don’t know how long you’ll be able to take it

Yes!!!!!

This is exactly what I was thinking for the other route that request could take and I'm glad someone went deeper on it! Mellowing them out absolutely comes with it's own downsides; The rigorous protection to the point of nearly being leashed and caged while at the same time being worshiped as the wife of Sanguinius and the 'cure' for the Black Rage is a suffocating fate.

Cause while at the same time is good that something as simple as your presence helps quell this darkness in them, there's only so much you can do, and they only seem to be getting more obsessive about it.

[wonton4rang]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Baby, I'm so toxic ¡!

pairing: bnd x reader.

warnings: toxic behaviour, mentions of violence (verbally and physically, nothing explicit, just mentions of it), jealousy, mentions of smut, mentions of cheating. and lmk if i missed anything.

summary: bnd as toxic traits i think they'll have during a relationship.

note: can someone tell me what "hcs" are and an example? i got like three requests using the same term and i'm very very lost 😔 would really appreciate some definition :')

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sungho;

control freak. he is the type to be so involved in your life that it's kinda cute at the beginning, how he would call you at all times, wants to know where you at, who are you with, what you ate, why are you late, why you didn't pick up his call within the first seconds... it got old really fast. he would want to choose what you wear, go everywhere with you, check your phone even if there was nothing there just because "there should be trust" ??? he would also start to pick and choose your friends, telling you which ones he liked and which ones you BOTH should meet.

riwoo;

insecurities. don't get me wrong, insecurities can happen, they are the most natural thing. but when he starts portraying his insecurities on you, projecting them and trying to manipulate you with it, that's when it gets ugly. he would say things like "you shouldn't do that because it makes me feel insecure" and suddenly you wouldn't do it because you loved him so much. plus, i know it sounds more like 'manipulation' than actual insecurities but he does feel insecure and uses it at his own favor to stop you from talking to or meeting people that made him feel smaller.

jaehyun;

too 'friendly'. wbk that myungjae is an extroverted puppy like typa boy, he would have really close female friends and it's not like you mind but when you get to y'alls table and find some girl sitting in your boyfriend's lap, it's not your favourite scene to watch. so you would have serious arguments with him, explaining how you didn't feel comfortable to see some chick sitting on his lap with her arms around his neck and their faces so close they could share breath and kiss at any moment. he just laughed and said you were being too insecure and that you should quit it, that he met those girls way before he knew you so it was just natural ???? be so fucking for real rn.

taesan;

nonchalant. ah *sigh* he would literally ghost you for weeks. meeting you at your place and listening to you talk about how worried you get and how you couldn't even count on him after y'all got separated and went home because he wouldn't even see your messages or pick up your calls. he wouldn't say a thing and you would just stand there, staring into this bored eyes and clicking your tongue but it was fucking useless. "is there something you wanna tell me?" but he just shrugged, laying back in your bed and just letting a sigh out, that 'done' look in his face letting you know he didn't give a single fuck about the things you were saying.

leehan;

obsessive. similar to sungho's tbh but more into the jealousy obsession kinda thing. he would check your phone on a regular basis, he would hold your waist and do very inappropriate stuff in front of your friends, side eyeing them if they ever complimented you. he would basically yell at you and forbid you from going out without him because why would you wanna go to a party or a club or a bar without your boyfriend?? were you cheating or something?? you bet that your neck was bruised due to his lips sucking on your skin and leaving hickies that he would make you show to everyone just to assert that you were his.

woonhak;

anger issues. yeah, woonhak is such a sweet boy, so cute and lovely, being so happy and energetic around you, kissing your cheeks and holding your frame with adoration, talking to you for hours through the phone and even playing some songs for you to fall asleep with. but when he gets angry, that's when you get uneasy, your hands are shaking when you see his tall figure cover you and press you against the wall, and tbh you weren't even listening anymore to his yelling because you became so scared of him that your senses would go numb and all that you could percive were his hands shaking your shoulders and his reddened face while he looks at you like he hates you. why was he so angry anyways? you didn't even know but he would just get mad over anything and everything, you were growing tired of it, but when he stopped being that angry and started to apologize? you just gave in. you just liked him that much :(

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for breaking up with a man to immediately date a woman?👩‍❤️‍👩

So a couple of years ago I (at the time 25F) identified as bisexual and ace. I had dated before, but it was all long distance relationships, and all men. At this point, I was single, and while in university, I met a guy (Jake, 26M) and he confessed he was into me. I only really thought of Jake as a friend, but I agreed we could date- because I've always confused platonic/romantic feelings, and foolishly thought I could probably "grow into" the relationship, like my previous ones. Jake is smart, friendly, very sweet and supportive, thoughtful, I didn't see why we couldn't date! But of course, as relationships do, suddenly he becomes more physical, more affectionate with me- which duh, we're dating, I should've expected this- but it blindsided me.

I would very frequently communicate to him what I was comfortable/uncomfortable with, and he'd be okay backing off and taking things more slowly, but would occasionally gently push my boundaries. I'd have to remind him that I wasn't comfortable, and he'd back off and would tell me it's okay- but I don't think he meant it. I think he was hoping I would "get over" these uncomfortable feelings and give him what he wants, eventually. It got to a point I was uncomfortable even being alone with him, because I knew he'd start acting this way. I was deeply appreciative of his patience, since I know I was being weird about our relationship.

While this is happening, I was venting to my dear friend Mary (25F) about how I felt terrible, how I felt stuck, and Mary would support me, hear me out, and comfort me. I had also met Mary in university, and Jake and Mary knew each other and were also friends. We were all a part of the same friend group- but I only would talk to Mary about what was going on between me and Jake.

A few months of this passes, and it occurs to me that I had a crush on Mary. A real, actual, true crush. One I'd never felt before in any of my other relationships- I had a connection with her, she and I understood each other. One night, we jokingly both kind of confessed to each other at the same time. It was then that it all clicked for me- I'm not bi… I'm a lesbian. It's why I've felt that I've had to "grow into" my previous relationships with men. I never truly was attracted to them, and just thought that was how all relationships were. Mary was the first person I actually felt like I could be myself.

Anyway- Mary knew about Jake obviously, and I told her up front that I'd need time to break up with him. She understood completely. I broke up with him the next day or so in person, quietly, in private. I didn't tell him about Mary, nor about me realizing that I'm a lesbian. I just said that I didn't think we could work out- that he wants more than I could give, and that I wasn't good for him, he deserved someone better. He understood, but he was very upset. And angry. He threatened me with a "If you date anybody in our group- we won't be friends anymore." and stormed off. I cried, but figured I deserved it. He truly cared about me, and I feel like I lied to him through our whole relationship- even if I didn't realize it.

Mary and I dated in secret shortly after, to prevent Jake from finding out and hating the both of us and causing turmoil in our group. He went around and told all of our male friends to leave me alone and not to touch me, so I'm pretty sure he never suspected Mary. I only found out about this because one of said other male friends approached me and told me what Jake had said- Jake never made this apparent to me.

But me and Mary? I've never been happier. We cuddle, we kiss- we do everything you'd expect in a relationship, and I'm never uncomfortable. And when I AM uncomfortable, Mary leaves it alone. She never pushes my boundaries unless I try something on my own terms or we talk about it first. She's a dream come true, and she's beautiful and I love her.

Cut to years later- me and Mary have been together for 10 years now. We've both graduated university, we live together, and we're soon to be married. We're still very close with our friend group- we regularly meet up for movie nights, dinner outings and dnd sessions. Jake's still one of our best friends, and he knows that we're dating, now. I've never addressed me and Mary to Jake directly, so I've never known how he's felt about us.

This is years after the fact, of course, and Jake is still a wonderful friend and (seemingly) has moved on/doesn't care about me and Mary. But I'm occasionally haunted by this mess that I caused, and I feel like I was terrible to Jake. So, Tumblr, I leave you all to judge me. Was I the asshole?

[paisleypens]

whispering waves asmr | spencer agnew x asmr!reader

guys i did it!! i love this so much if you want more from asmr!reader lemme knoww. thank you @easy-peezy-squeeze-a-lemon for the inspo!!

~~~

Spencer Agnew sat in the Smosh Games pod, headphones firmly in place, eyes glued to his phone. On the screen, the soothing voice of Y/N, the ASMR content creator he admired filled his ears. He found her voice calming, and her intricate roleplays were a perfect escape from the daily chaos of filming and editing.

“Spencer!” Shayne’s voice jolted him out of his trance. Spencer quickly paused the video and pulled off his headphones, looking sheepish as he turned to face his friend.

“What’s up?” Spencer asked, trying to act casual.

“Watching your girlfriend again?” Shayne teased, nudging Spencer with a grin. Across the room, Alex caught the tail end of the exchange and joined in.

“Yeah, Spencer, are you ever going to meet this Whispering Waves ASMR, or are you just going to keep crushing from afar?” Alex added, his eyes filled with amusement.

Spencer rolled his eyes, but a blush crept up his cheeks. “She’s not my girlfriend. I just like her videos, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” Shayne said, laughing. “You’ve got to admit, you watch her a lot. Why don’t you just reach out? Who knows, maybe she’s a Smosh fan.”

Spencer shook his head, but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “I doubt it. Besides, she probably gets tons of messages. She wouldn’t even see mine.”

Before Shayne or Alex could respond, the conversation was cut short by a call for a meeting. They all headed to the conference room, but Spencer’s thoughts lingered on her. Maybe Shayne had a point. It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

~~~

The bustling convention center was packed with fans, creators, and endless rows of booths. Smosh Games had a prominent spot, and the crew were busy meeting fans, signing autographs, and taking pictures.

During a rare lull, Spencer found himself scrolling through Twitter, checking out the convention hashtags. That’s when he saw it – she was at the same con today.

“Hey guys,” Spencer said, trying to keep his excitement in check. “You’ll never guess who’s here.”

“Who?” Shayne asked, looking curious.

“Whispering Waves,” Spencer replied, holding up his phone to show them the tweet.

Shayne’s eyes widened. “No way! You have to meet her.”

Alex grinned. “Yeah, dude. This is your chance.”

Spencer felt a mix of nerves and excitement. “Maybe I will.”

As the day went on, Spencer kept an eye out for her. Just when he started to think he’d missed his chance, he saw her across the hall, talking to a small group of fans. Gathering his courage, he walked over, his heart pounding.

“Hi,” he said, once the fans had dispersed. “I’m Spencer. I love your ASMR videos.”

She turned to face him, a warm smile lighting up her face. “Thank you so much! I’m a big fan of Smosh Games.”

Somehow she was more captivating in person. Spencer felt a rush of relief and excitement. “Wait actually? That’s insane! I wasn’t sure if you’d know who we were.”

“Of course I do,” she replied, laughing softly. “Your videos are hilarious.”

They chatted for a while, the conversation flowing easily. Spencer couldn’t believe how well they clicked, and he had affirmed he could listen to her voice forever. Eventually, he gathered the courage to ask, “Would you like to grab a coffee sometime? Maybe after the convention today?”

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I’d love that.”

~~~

After the convention ended for the day, the two of them discovered a charming coffee shop close by. They had a great time chatting about everything – their jobs, hobbies, and hilarious behind-the-scenes anecdotes. It felt like they had known each other for years.

“You have really pretty eyes. The blue suits you” Y/N complimented him.

Spencer’s mind went blank at the comment, feeling suddenly giggly. “I have spent a lot of time looking at yours. Not in a weird way but like- shit- through your videos… if that makes sense.” He muttered looking away.

“It does, maybe give me a little more time to look into your eyes.”

Spencer looked up to Y/N’s eyes, which were looking into his with such adoration, he couldn’t believe it. So they sat there gazing in a comfortable silence, the tension between them growing. They both would occasionally burst into laughter at the same time, feeling the same energy.

“So,” she said, letting the tension ease, “I guess we’ll have to do a collab sometime.”

Spencer grinned. “I’d love that. The Chosen ASMR sounds very…”

“Scary. But funny.” Y/N quickly laughed.

As they finished their drinks, Spencer couldn’t help but feel grateful for Shayne and Alex’s teasing. Without it, he might never have had the courage to approach her. He had tried to picture what it would be like to be with her, but now it was real. He wanted their future together and somehow it was so close to being real.

[keepittoyourshelf]

Since the algorithm on my various socials thinks I actually want to see a ton of people simping over Rhys and ACOTAR, let’s get down to the bones of why that algorithm is fucked beyond all comprehension, shall we?

I’ve never hidden the fact that I’m pro-Tamlin, not in the sense that I approve of what he did, but from the place that I believe he’s worthy of forgiveness in the same way any of the men that SJM otherwise glorifies in her work is worthy of it for any of their transgressions.

I shouldn’t have to do a paint by numbers thing here to make this obvious, but based on the actual text written by SJM in her own words, Tamlin has objectively done nothing better or worse than Rhysand has.

The big complaint is his temper, of course, and pro-Rhysies love to bullshit about how the red flags were all over book 1 and SJM is such a master at foreshadowing.

He locked Feyre in a house against her will to protect her, when she clearly didn’t want to be caged. How is that any worse than Rhysand…drugging her and making her give him lap dances, in order to protect her, when she clearly didn’t want to be dancing naked in front of strangers?

Go on. I’ll wait for your rationalization.

Rhysand’s whole shtick was that he’s only playing the villain to keep Velaris (and only Velaris) safe…those fucks in the Hewn City can eat a bag of dicks, right? But tell me again how Tamlin is the really bad one for enforcing a tithe because it’s unfair to those who can’t afford it (fair point). But Rhysand chooses to save the one city in his court that has zero problems. Let’s let those that might already be suffering from poverty get kidnapped and tortured by a psychopath. That’s probably better than a tithe, right?

And let’s not forget how Tamlin mocked Feyre and Rhys at the High Lords meeting. While funny, it was in poor taste. At least Rhysand didn’t publicly mock Tamlin. He had the decency to do it privately when he went out of his way to go to a deeply troubled man’s house and, in the midst of an obvious mental health crisis, not only had the gall to ask for resources from a man that has no resources because his own wife fucking destroyed them out of spite, but proceeds to rub in his triumph over a man that has nothing left. Nothing to see there, right?

Even if you could ignore all of that (and you’d have to be willfully fucking thick to do so, which a lot of these people are), I shall leave you with Tamlin’s role as a spy for Hybern. That’s obviously supposed to be a real shock because TaMliN BaD at this point, so why would anyone believe him? It’s not like he had a really good explanation like Rhys gave when he murdered literal children and innocents just to ensure Amarantha didn’t know how noble he actually was. Right? RIGHT?! And it’s not like anyone would have a harder time believing someone who had played evil and done actually evil things for the “greater good” (a collectivist dog whistle if there ever was one) for fifty fucking years over the dude that suddenly goes bad after being a progressive and respected high lord for the same period of time? I mean, it’s not like we’re dealing with severe mental anguish and trauma here. That’s crazy talk.

Shadow Daddy does no wrong. Even when he does. Because reasons.

Those idiots on TikTok making stupid videos showing their bf’s being all shocked and I KNEW IT when Tamlin “turns” can chew glass along with all those dipshits selling mugs that say “Tamlin’s Tears” on Etsy right next to merch glorifying a man that literally gaslit his soulmate into believing that forced drunken naked lap dances were actually a good thing, when you think about it.

SJM isn’t a master of foreshadowing. She’s a sloppy writer of moderately entertaining fiction that has a kink for glorifying severely unhealthy behaviors without the benefit of a trigger warning.

Fuck off if you think that’s all okay and think that anyone that says Tamlin isn’t any worse comparatively is the crazy one. Projection is a real disorder. Look it up. Right after you order your 543rd Rhysand candle.

[neptunescore]

Unpopular opinion

But I really think that if Logan had been able to go through F2 fully and develop like everyone else (except max) did, and was put on a ran that wasn’t Williams, he’d be a much better driver. I can tell he’s improving currently, but he’d be so much better if he was allowed to grow and thrive and then put into F1, but he was taken out of F2 early, dumped into F1, and expected to perform amazingly.

Not every driver can skip F2 or be taken out early and perform great. I think the old team principal set him up for failure but not sporting him to continue his endeavors on F2. He was doing well so the team principal wanted to get to him before any other team could and that ultimately led to Logan’s horrible first season.

And I also think he was done wrong by Williams this season too. I understand that he’s by no means the best driver on the grid, but he isn’t the worst either.

A lot of people don’t want to acknowledge the growth he has made since last year. His year was ruined before it could truly began. With what happened in Australia, the team took his confidence away, and things went down from there. He was so ready and extremely confident, but his car was taken as punishment for something that his teammate did to his own car.

I get that it was a decision based on who could get points, but what really did it was the fact that Alex didn’t get any points and then Logan got his busted up chassis

And even recently, Logan barely got upgrades. He was given stuff from last year. I think he would do so much better on a different team because Williams obviously do not care for him the way they care for Alex. I get that he hasn’t really been driving the way they want him, but to be honest, neither has Alex.

I don’t know, man, this is just my opinion, but I feel like if he was allowed to finish his formula 2 season and then put into formula 1 things would be better for him. And if he weren’t in Williams, then that would be even better. They are known as the worst team on the grid to put a rookie in.

Another unpopular opinion, but I genuinely think he deserves another chance in a team like haas. I know you’re probably going to disagree with me, but haas has a better car than Williams and they would treat him fairly. He would also bring the team many sponsors as the only American, so it would be a win-win.

We don’t know how he would perform in a different team with a better car, so I’m just saying I would like to see what would happen

Honestly I agree with everything uve said here anon, like wholeheartedly.

I'm just gonna add a few more things, but overall, we both have the exact same opinions.

I feel like ppl forget that williams is literally an OVERWEIGHT car, like u literally can't expect amazing results from them, and I know some of you are gonna talk abt how alex seems to be doing rlly well, but alex has been here since 2019. Not to forget that he was part of that redbull shitshow, like this man is fully trained in the art of surviving under stressful situations, and he's also an experienced driver.

I feel like there's more hate on logan bc ppl keep seeing how well Oscar's doing, and those 2 came into F1 at the same time. But you literally can't compare them. You can't. Oscar's one of the VERY few rookies who managed to adjust to f1 that quick, and logan literally just needs TIME like all the other drivers got when they first joined too. Not to mention how SUPPORTING mclaren is of oscar, while james vowels is out there already talking abt different driver options and williams is so blatantly unmotivating of logan. God, ofc it's just gonna affect his performance even more bc this is the ONLY team hes been with, and it's his SECOND year, he needs affirmations and support.

Oscar is also in an AMAZING car, and as I've said bfr, logan is NOT. Ppl rlly need to stop comparing them.

All in all, his situation makes me so sad.