#I'm sure that in some obscure way the fact that I'm thinking about this now is due to mainlining The Untamed

[jpitha]

The Oxygen Breathers: Sales Pitch

It wasn't until Late Summer Storm was being strapped into the small human ship that he realized that it was really really happening. Sure, he had seen the extremely small ships the humans had brought out to show off; a resurrection of a very old design, they said. And sure, he had noticed that one of them had two seats instead of one. They had said that one was for training or ride alongs, would he like to try it out? And sure, in a moment sans sanity, Late Summer Storm had agreed to the ride.

That as going to be it, right? They'd find some incompatibility, or there would be some political fallout and he wouldn't have to go. Face would be saved by all.

But no. The humans were so excited about the prospect they - to use one of their own strange idioms - 'moved heaven and earth' to make it happen.

First was political. Summer had hoped that Innari high command would balk at the idea of one of their own being wedged into a prototype human ship, but to his dismay, they were excited about the idea. They were so excited in fact that several members of the Isolators had paid him a visit and informed him in no uncertain terms that he was to be cooperative, polite, and above all, interested in what he was being shown. Interested enough to recall it, and write a report on the state of humanity's technology. His feathers fluttering nervously at a visit from the secret police, Summer agreed. He would report back on what he learned about their singleship, the one they called a fighter.

Next was logistical. Innari don't breath the same gas mixture as humans. It's not as dramatic a difference as say, the Von, who have much more methane hexafluoride in their breathing gas, but humanity's breathing mixture has frankly an irresponsible amount of oxygen in it. Oxygen narcosis occurs for Innari who breathe human concentrations and pressures of oxygen, and they die shortly after. The Innari medical community has published research papers stating that they are pretty sure that the humans suffer from oxygen narcosis too, they're just... used to it. 'Fortunately' for Summer, the human fighters had plumbing and fittings for hardsuits and supplemental breathing gas. Summer would wear a pressure suit and bring a atmosphere generator and his human pilot would do the same.

When the appointed day arrived, Summer stood in the too bright lights of the ship bay of the human Nullship Kon-Tiki. His pressure suit - a brand new one, printed up by the Innari navy, tailored and form fitted to his body - felt heavy and squeezed his feathers uncomfortably because of their higher gravity and atmo pressure.

Among the human workers bustling around without pressure suits - or really that much in the way of clothing either - someone walked in wearing a heavily armored pressure suit. Made of segmented pieces of reinforced coropolymer, they looked like they were headed to the front lines of a war, not a joyride.

"Late Summer Storm?" The voice said over his radio. He could speak their language, but he had his suit translate with subtitles in the bottom of his vision. It helped when they got going and spoke too quickly, or used some obscure idiom that needed translation. They translator also helped with body language. "I'm Captain Meghan Delrin, I'll be piloting today." They saluted sharply, and Summer noticed how maneuverable their suit was, even though it was quite heavily armored.

"Thank you, Captain. Please, call me Summer. My full name is unnecessary now." He said, turning to look at the fighter. "I am... interested in our upcoming flight."

"Are you now?" Captain Delrin laughed. Summer was surprised at the sound. He hadn't heard a human laugh before. The staccato pulses of sound were much different than the more musical Innari laughter. "You look like you're on your way to a funeral."

Summer's eyes flicked down to the translator for help with the phrase. She thinks you look despondent it said, helpfully. "Oh, please don't misunderstand Captain. I am grateful for the opportunity and I am excited to learn what your fighters can do, it's just..." He struggled for the word in their language. "Scary." That was probably closest.

To Summer's surprise Captain Delrin lifted her glass face covering, revealing her own face squeezed tightly in the foam of her helmet, surrounded by wires and blinking lights. He had no idea they were crammed into their suits so tightly! They moved so fluidly he had assumed their suits were much more loose fitting. "Summer, I want to make this crystal clear. We are doing everything within out power to make sure that this flight goes without incident and is even boring, but-" she raised a gauntleted finger "-we're scared too. If we weren't, we would run the risk of making mistakes. Scared is good. Scared means you're careful." The glass folded back down. "Come on, Summer, Let's get seated and belted."

The fighter was so small that there wasn't a door, per se. The clear canopy slid open and flipped up, revealing the two seats, side by side. Captain Delrin sat on the left, and Summer's seat was on the right. His seat was filled with pieces of closed cell foam, to fill in the gaps and hollow spots making up the differences between their bodyplans. Summer had spent a few hours in the fitting room with some very terse engineers sitting down and standing up, sitting down and standing up, until they were satisfied. As he sat, the seat was comfortable and he was belted in by more engineers. When they were finished, they looked at him for confirmation. He nodded and made the gesture he was taught - his outer manipulators and sensory feathers curled around into a fist, except for one pointing straight up. The human returned the gesture, saluted, and backed down the ladder.

As Captain Delrin was belted in, she had been pressing buttons and flipping switches. The fighter began to hum and throb as it came to life, motors rising in pitch and maneuvering jets puffing. Summer's sense of balance was thrown off for a moment, and then it recovered. "What was that?" he asked as Captain Delrin continued to start the fighter.

"Gyro" she said without stopping. "We can spin the ship for free with it. Good for tracking targets and maneuvering. Why? Did you feel it?"

Summer nodded, and then realizing she wouldn't be able to see the gesture said "Yes, I felt it. Is it magnetic?"

"It is suspended in a mag field, but the gyro itself is not, why?"

"We're sensitive to electromagnetism. It was how our ancient ancestors navigated our world."

"Huh. That makes sense I guess." She said, looking at him now. "Will it be an issue?"

"I don't know" Summer said. "But, I don't think it's enough of a reason to stop the ride."

"Fair enough."

Eventually they were warmed up and at power, and a small tug wheeled them to the launch tube. Captain Delrin explained that during a battle, the fighters could be launched every few minutes "But the ride is rough" she added.

Summer wondered what 'rough' was to a human when he heard the launching clamps grab the ship. Captain Delrin looked to an officer on the side, saluted, they returned the salute, and they launched.

Much later, Summer had to watch the video playback to see the launch. The fighter was shot out of the Nullship at a withering five gees. Captain Delrin grunted and took sharp breaths but was otherwise unharmed as Summer regained consciousness. "You made it Summer! Glad to have you with us once again." Delrin said, laughing. "We made it a light launch in deference to you. Normally we launch at twenty gee with the compensator set to ten."

"These fighters have a compensator and you didn't activate it?" Summer's whole body ached from the launch.

"What fun would that be? You have to feel some of the forces, it keeps you honest. Now then." Delrin flipped some switches and the color of her screens changed. "Let's see what we can see."

They spent the next solar hour flying around, showing Summer what the fighter was capable of. He had to admit, the maneuverability of the teeny ship was impressive. "But why?" he finally asked.

"Why what?"

"Why-" he gestured at the console "-all this. You have your Nullships, and they are more heavily armed than one of our Battlecruisers. They can travel farther, faster, and hit harder than anything in the Coalition. Why do you need fighters?"

Delrin reduced the throttle until they were practically coasting relative to the Nullship. "That's a good observation Summer. We have a few reasons. One, fighters will help us to engage multiple targets at once. The Coalition knows that our Nullships are powerful, so if they were ever to attack us, they would come at us en mass. A swarm of less powerful ships could overwhelm our targeting, and could do damage. Fighters could engage them, and divide their efforts."

Summer nodded to himself. His own government had decided that If anyone were to attack the humans, a swarm of a huge number of ships was just about the only way to have any chance of success.

"The second reason, is we're hoping to sell them." Delrin said matter-of-factly.

"You're what?" Summer stared dumbfounded. He couldn't have heard that correctly.

"We're going to offer them up for sale. The Coalition's defenses are woefully underdeveloped. Something like this is just what they need to help defend themselves.

"You'll give the other Coalition peoples weapons?"

"Not for free, but yes, why not?"

"It's just..." The Innari never shared technology. The idea of such a thing was too dangerous. Sell a weapon today, and tomorrow it could be turned back onto you. "What if the people who buy it use it against you?"

"That could happen, yes." Delrin said thoughtfully. "But history shows us it probably won't. Fighters aren't standalone things. They need parts, maintenance, upgrades, ships to haul them, printable matter, all kinds of ancillaries. If someone buys from us and then attacks..." She shrugged. "They'll find it very hard to keep their new fighters supplied and maintained. Also-" She looked out of the canopy into space. "It would be nice to have an opponent that was more our speed."

Summer was sure she was just playing a trick on him now. "Ha ha, sure thing Captain Delrin. You're telling me that you want to fight?"

"No Summer, we want to fight a good opponent. Someone who thinks on their feet, has close to our level of training and technology, someone who makes it worth while. Do you remember when you came to us and asked for our help? How we brought our ships out of Nullspace and defeated the Felimen almost instantly? It was boring."

"Boring?!"

"Boring. I was on one of the Nullships, Summer. It was practically a drill. People didn't even run. Didn't have to. We slipped out of Null, shot up a few Felimen cruisers, did a little light planetary bombardment, and slipped back into Null."

Summer was stunned into silence. The Felimen were a fierce enemy that had driven all of the Coalition people back for more than a year, winning battle after battle, claiming more and more space until the humans traded entry into the Coalition for defeating the Felimen.

It took the humans one solar day.

"If we sell some fighters to some of the Coalition who knows? Maybe in a few decades or centuries we'll finally get a good battle. Something really worth going all our for." Delrin said, wistfully. She really sounded like she wanted all out war.

Delrin took them through some more high gee manuvers - with the compensator turned on this time - and demonstrated the weapons; two missile racks, two slug throwers, one exawatt laser and enough printable matter to keep them in consumables for an impressive amount of time. She had fired at some drone targets that the Nullship had launched, and even let Summer have a go at the weapons suite. She ordered a new wave sent out and Summer took over. It was intuitive, and easy to use, and frighteningly effective. As the last drone evaporated in an orange puff of exploding missile Summer looked down at his hands. He had - without any official training - destroyed more targets quicker than any Innari ship he could think of, and this was just a single human fighter!

The demonstration over, Captain Delrin took them back in. The landing was more gentle than the launch, but only just. As they rolled to a stop, the canopy popped open and Delrin's face mask opened again.

"So! How many fighters can we put you down for?"

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

umm how dark are u willing to go? I'm thinking abt turning to a life of prostitution and the ghoul being your first ever client and he's not very gentle about it, (plus you're scared bc he's a ghoul ffs) in fact he's very smug bc he's the first client, probably buys you for the night :) mwah xoxo

Working Girl

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Sex Worker Female Reader

Word Count: 5,411

Warnings: smut (18+), sex for pay, rough sex, knife play, cannibalistic threats (he's joking...kinda), spitting, hair pulling, humiliation, rope play, dacryphilia, face and throat fucking, cum facial, some dubcon elements, soft-ish ending (I cannot help myself).

Notes: My answer to that question is "darker than this", anon. I suppose I should probably put together some sort of "wills-and-wonts" pinned post, though, honestly, there aren't many of the latter. With smut and romance content, I think it's important to keep an open mind and broaden your horizons. We are cool with sex work and sex workers in this house, by the way.

I had to let this one stew a bit to decide what direction I wanted to go with it. I'm obsessed with the idea of Cooper menacing around in New Vegas, so I hope you're alright with that. I am also obsessed with the outfits the sex workers outside the casinos wear. I went a little crazy with the length on this one, but I'm super happy with how it turned out. Hope you like it! XOXO

The uniform you'd been given for your new job was absolutely humiliating.

Sure, you looked...nice. They'd fed you, for once you'd had plenty of water, got the first chance to bathe that you'd had in weeks, maybe months. You'd even been able to wash your hair, a rare, rare thing that still had you trying to smell the silky strands as they blew by your face. Initially, you'd felt quite confident, actually; the cropped top even had sleeves, the tight black skirt and heels making your legs look quite nice, even if they were uncomfortable to walk and stand in.

However, your confidence had diminished a bit when they'd given you the black leather collar to wear around your neck, reducing to basically zero when you actually stepped outside to begin your work.

Okay, you had technically done this before, traded sex for medicine or repair work or a place to stay. Honestly, at this point, you thought you'd had more sex for trade than sex for pleasure, the latter hard to come by for someone as picky about actual dating as you. But it felt like one thing to have someone offer it in the moment, when you were truly desperate and a spur-of-the-moment decision was distastefully easy to make. This, standing along the New Vegas Strip and advertising yourself for it, felt like another. A late evening breeze blew across the road, stirring up some dust and making you shiver.

If you were honest with yourself, you got off easy. You weren't sure what the guys and girls with the chains around their bodies and their nipples exposed had done, right or wrong, to earn that uniform, but you weren't eager to find out.

There was a man across the way, leaning against the wall in the shadows outside the tram station, a lit cigarette hanging loosely from his hand. You couldn't see his face, obscured by a dingy, wide-brimmed cowboy hat, his figure hidden as well by a long, dark duster that was incredibly ratty at the ends. He'd been there a while; you weren't sure how long, but you were fairly certain he'd been checking you out. His smokes were lasting an awfully long time.

You'd been told that oftentimes johns were too nervous to initiate the transaction themselves, that you needed to be fun and flirty and try to hook them in yourself if you wanted any business. It didn't help that you, too, were nervous to initiate, but you wanted this to work out, at least for now, and no one else had been interested so far.

"Hey there, handsome. Are you looking to party?" you called out to him, waving as playfully as possible.

That got him, the burning red cherry at the end of his smoke glowing brightly for a few seconds before he tossed it to the ground, exhaling a big cloud of smoke as he stubbed it out with the toe of his boot.

"Handsome, huh? It's been a hot, hot minute since anyone called me that, darlin'." he drawled, his voice actually quite nice. His footsteps gave off a funny little jingle you couldn't place, and you calmly took him in as he approached. But then he came close enough that you could see his face, see the pits and the sunken eye sockets and the gaping hole in the middle of his face where a nose was supposed to be.

A ghoul. Holy shit, he was a ghoul.

Now, you didn't have anything against ghouls, per se, not like some people certainly seemed to. You didn't like the idea of anyone being barred from towns and outposts or harassed just because of what they were, to no fault of their own. You still gave pause at the idea of sleeping with one. Couldn't it make you sick? Didn't some ghouls eat people? Or was that just the feral ones? No, that was stupid. There were people who ate people in this world. Of course a ghoul could possibly eat you.

"Busy the rest of the night?" he asked as if it were automatically the response he'd receive.

You tried your best to giggle playfully, desperate to no longer have to stand outside and solicit for a while, even if it meant your first trick was a doozy.

"Not if you've got the caps." you replied, clenching your shaking hands behind your back.

"Oh, I've got 'em, sweetheart. So." he asked, looking you blatantly up and down. "Are we gonna party or what?"

The two of you made your way into the casino, the bright lights throwing intriguing shadows across your new friend's gaunt face. You left him at the front desk and told him where could meet you after he relinquished all of his weapons, including the big gun strapped to his back. You'd be happy to see that go.

After you left him, you went to the back to check in and described the john you were going back with. When you said he was a ghoul, you expected some sort of reaction or concern, but all the older woman behind the counter did was produce a Rad-X from a half-empty bottle and push it across the counter at you along with a room key.

"Room three. He paid for the night." she said flatly, barely looking your way. "You're gonna wanna take that now, not later."

You picked it up and turned to walk towards the back rooms where the dates happened. You were a little floored he'd paid for that much time; you'd been anticipating an hour, maybe two. But all night? Did turning into a ghoul give you some sort of super stamina? Or did he have other plans for you?

As you passed by the doorway to the gambling floor, you could see him still standing at the counter emptying his pockets.

Just how many weapons did one person need?

Hesitating a moment, you waited to catch his eye, holding up your hand and flashing him three fingers. He gave you a slight nod, and you continued on, unlocking the third door down the adjacent, isolated hall. The rooms weren't much but the basics; a dingy but functional bed, a chair and side table with a jug of water and a few glasses in the corner. A lamp with a stained shade. A clock to keep track of the time. That was about it. You poured yourself a small glass of water from the jug and swallowed the Rad-X down, a bitter taste coating the inside of your mouth. Pulling a face, you took a fidgety seat at the foot of the bed to wait for your companion for the night to arrive, leaving your uncomfortable heels on.

Don't take off the shoes before the john gets in there, you'd been told. Some guys like to take everything off themselves.

You were pulled from your ruminations by the sound of the door creaking open, making you startle ever-so-slightly as he entered.

The people at the front desk had almost certainly offered to take his hat and coat, but it seemed he had declined. Maybe he had some particular personal attachment to them, you thought as he shucked the dirty duster, hanging it by the door. The hat remained on as he turned and appraised you, sitting straight on the bed, your hands daintily in your lap. He still wore a few layers, but you took comfort in knowing that he'd had his pockets emptied. They'd let him keep the lasso he'd been wearing, though, and you eyed it cautiously as it hung from his hip.

The ghoul didn't say anything to you as he crossed the room, pouring himself a tall glass of water and sitting in the chair, drinking it down as he stared at you. That sent you squirming ever so slightly, uncertain of how you were supposed to react.

"So, how long have you been in town?" you asked, eager to fill the silence. He didn't answer for an unsettlingly long time, finishing the first glass of water and pouring another.

"Long enough. Just blowing through." he replied, brim over his eyes and glass over his mouth.

"Ah." you responded, unsure what else to say to that. Things were quiet again for a long time, several minutes passing as you watched him dig an inhaler out of his pocket and take a long drag. You weren't sure what it was; you'd recognize a Jet container. Lots of people used it.

"I was surprised you wanted me for the whole night." you confessed.

"That right?" he responded. "Not in this line of work long, eh?"

"Oh. Uh, I guess." you replied, taken aback by that. "It's just that all night's a long time."

You were trying to make your voice as sweet and seductive as possible, despite the tingle of worry creeping up your spine.

"It sure is." he replied, a glint in his eye that you couldn't read. It frightened you a little, but you told yourself you were overreacting. Another few minutes passed by, another puff of the inhaler, before he raised his hand, still wearing those thick gloves, and beckoned you over. You stood, somewhat shakily walked over to stand in front of him as he sat reclined in the chair, and waited for him to direct you.

"Alright," he said, voice calm as ever as he suddenly produced a long, slender blade from...somewhere. "let's get that outfit off."

This, of course, sent you screaming, turning quickly to flee towards the door. However, he quickly appeared behind you, a hand moving to cover your mouth with one of those filthy gloves as he yanked you back into his chest, making you stumble in those awful shoes. The smell of leather and gunpowder washed over you.

"Jesus Christ." he said, mild annoyance in his tone as he held you almost effortlessly with the one arm. "If you're already screamin' like this when we ain't even had any fun, maybe you ain't cut out for this, baby doll. Never seen a knife before?"

Your hollering choked down into a little cry as the strange-smelling glove muffled you, as you took in what he said. You desperately didn't want to fuck up this job on your literal first night, didn't want to lose a chance to have some stability, a roof over your head. But you couldn't stop the way your brain screamed at you to run. He brought the blade back up to your eye level, turning it to and fro, as if to show it off to you, the small silver blade glinting dangerously in the lamplight.

"You aren't supposed to have that." you whimpered between his fingers, trembling.

"Lotsa people do things they aren't supposed to in this world." was his reply as he slid the blade directly between your breasts, slicing through the crop top from hem to collar. You swore you felt the blade swipe your skin, and it made you gasp in fear, but when you looked, the skin was untouched.

His hands made quick work of the button and zipper of your skirt, dropping it around you feet and leaving you standing before him in nothing but your underwear and your uncomfortable shoes, your heart clamoring in your rib cage.

Looking you up and down once more, he stepped back and took in the whole scene before slinking back down into the chair in the corner, his hands moving down to undo his own belt and fly. He paused, however, to invite you forward again, urging you to close the few foot distance between you. You moved as instructed, still shaken as you stood a foot or so in front of him.

"Kneel."

Carefully, you lowered yourself down onto the scuffed old floor, cool against your bare knees as you looked up at him.

From this angle, it was much easier to see his whole face, including his eyes, and they were gorgeous. You hadn't noticed before, between the nerves and the hat, that they were like pools of dark honey. They distracted you so much that you missed him actually tugging his cock free. When you looked down at it, you were pleasantly surprised at how normal it looked, save for the radiation-roughened texture of the skin. Save for that, all the normal parts were there in normal quantities. You let out a very soft sigh of relief.

"Well, go on." he said, brandishing the thing at you like a weapon. "If you're gonna be a whore, you gotta act like one."

You could feel yourself pouting at his statement, and you hated it, hated the way his words rang through your brain, but you felt some ease at finally getting into something you had experience with, at least. Promptly crawling forward the last foot or so, you let yourself sit a tad more comfortably, leaning forward and reaching out to wrap your fingers around him.

"Uh-uh." he corrected, stopping you in your tracks. "If you're any good at it, you shouldn't need your hands."

This gave you some pause, scanning him over as your palms came to rest on the bit of exposed chair between his legs. Slowly, you leaned forward and dragged your tongue along the underside of his erection, sending it twitching at the contact. The man sitting before you hummed in approval, fully reclining against the back of the chair to watch you closely as you cocked your head somewhat awkwardly to allow your lips to wrap around the tip. He tasted differently than you were accustomed to, you thought as you began to let your head bob up and down on the first few inches of him, your tongue running along the leaking slit; there was an almost metallic aftertaste to him, like licking a cap.

"There you go." he praised lowly as you slid down to take as much of him as you comfortably could, his right hand coming to softly fist in your hair. The movement made you vaguely suspicious, and rightly so, as a few moments later, his other hand joined the first, and together they held your head in place, his hips pistoning up to fuck your face. You tolerated it well, only gagging at the last few thrusts when it seemed he was trying to push deeper and deeper. When you did, the sensation made him pull your head back, his saliva-coated cock laying against his leather-clad stomach as he appraised you, his eyes largely obscured again, drool all over your lips and chin.

"Let's move over to the bed, shall we?" he said, already standing by the time he finished.

Awkwardly, you attempted to right yourself out of your kneeling posture, but before you could even try, he stooped and grabbed you around the waist, tossing you over his shoulder like you weighed absolutely nothing. He was so strong and it made you blush as an indignant sound left you.

"Hey!" you let out before you could stop yourself. You weren't supposed to complain, but it felt like he was almost antagonizing you.

"Allow me." he replied, shooting you a look over his shoulder.

He dropped you down back onto the foot of the bed rather unceremoniously, your hair falling in your face and eyes; when you moved it away again, the switchblade was back in his hand, and you screamed again, unable to stop yourself.

"Keep it comin', sweetheart. I doubt anyone's rushing in here to help you. Honestly, I think they'd respond quicker if you quit screamin' for too long." he said, mocking.

"Quit scaring me and I'll quit screaming!" you shot back, righting yourself so that you were at least properly sitting upright.

"Boy, you sure do love to run that filthy little cocksucking mouth of yours, don'tcha?" he sneered, grabbing your hair again and yanking you close. "Pretty sure I'm payin' you to put out, not to bitch."

The blade traced back down your cleavage to dig into the waistband of your black bra, quickly slicing through it as well and sending your breasts popping out, the now damaged garment hanging uselessly from your arms. The ghoul insistently urged you down onto your back by your hair, and you followed, your legs dangling over the foot of the bed past your knee. For a moment, he simply looked at you.

"Open your mouth." he demanded, leaning over you.

You did as you were told, the command not unusual, but then he puckered his lips and let a rather large gob of spit fall onto your tongue, sending you gagging and scrambling to sit up.

"Nope. Swallow it." he said, maintaining that painful grip against your scalp, keeping you on your back. "You need to remember where your place is right about now, girlie."

Incensed, you hesitated a moment before forcing yourself to do as he told you. Your face was burning bright red with humiliation. He was still leaning over you, bringing the sharp edge close to your skin again. You steeled yourself, calling his bluff despite how dangerous that felt, trying your best to keep your eyes on his, challenging him as he traced the point across your flesh.

"Such pretty, smooth skin." he muttered, watching your reaction closely. "Looks good enough to slice a piece off and eat..."

As he spoke, he let the sharpened edge dig fully into the side of your breast, and you let out a whimper, your stomach rolling at the feeling, at his words. You were certain he was about to really hurt you.

However, he stopped after a moment, pulling the thing away to reveal nothing more than a thin red dash the length of the blade. A kitten scratch. A joke. You looked to him rather incredulously, and he rolled his eyes, folding the edge back into its handle, showing you that it was fully closed before tossing it across the room, landing with a thud in the chair.

"Since you're so afraid of it." he taunted, putting his hands on your hips to flip you onto your stomach. "Hands and knees. Face down."

A frustrated huff escaped you at this newest little jape as you pulled yourself up into the proper position, watching him out of the corner of your eye, your face buried in the musty mattress. It was hard to focus your vision like this, but you watched him move up towards the head of the bed until you couldn't see him anymore. There was a sound you couldn't put your finger on, quick and quiet, but by the time you could even hazard a guess at what it was, he'd seized your right arm by the wrist and was wrapping the rope he'd been carrying around it, finishing it off with a knot. This was enough for you to risk a quick glimpse in his direction, only to see that he'd used the lasso to tie your arm to the head of the bed. Your heart raced as he gave the knot at the headboard a yank before disappearing behind you, tugging your collar loose and dropping it on the floor.

He left the heels on.

"It's funny that these fancy casinos think all these dirtbags and desert rats'll come in here and just give up every weapon they have willingly. That's not how things work out there, and it's still not how they work in here, no matter how much they pretend it is." he mused, his voice making it seem almost as if he were talking to himself and not you. His still-gloved hand petted at the round globe of your ass.

Now you were annoyed. Why was he fucking with you like this?

"Are you a dirtbag or a desert rat?" you muttered into the sheets, jumping when he suddenly grabbed you by your hair again in response, holding you tight in his grip as he forced you to look at him.

"I'm the first thing, darlin'. It'll be good for you to learn the difference." he said, actually smirking at you, at the pained look on your face as the feeling once more burned in your scalp, one of his hands slowly moving up the back of your thigh to stroke your mound over your underwear. Quickly, he pushed them aside, his longest finger tracing up and down your embarrassingly wet slit, and you bit your lips hard to muffle the moan you wanted to let out.

Soon, he was working that finger inside you, then another, and another, all in quick succession; this wasn't about making you feel good, it was about making sure you could take him properly. You could feel the head of his cock nudging against your bare ass cheek, leaking and throbbing. He was eager, no matter how cool and calm he seemed to be.

"Spread your legs more." he mumbled, knee pushing at your right leg to "help" you open yourself wider for him. You did as much as possible, feeling like you could fall at any moment. However, you tensed again when you felt the tip of him slip through your folds, collecting some of the wetness there before sliding down to press at your entrance. You held your breath.

It burned when he pushed inside, though whether that was because of the rough texture of his skin or because you weren't completely prepared, you didn't know. He didn't give you much time to adjust to his size, simply bracing one knee against the mattress as he began to fuck you. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, his blunt cock head slamming painfully against your cervix.

At one point, he shifted himself higher over you, seeking a way to be deeper inside. The change in angle caused the slick head of his cock to slip out of you for a moment, pressing against your taut asshole for just a split second, but it was enough to make you panic, squirming wildly beneath him. Pure fear shot up your spine. He only laughed sardonically, tugging your hair to make you look over your shoulder at him.

"You're lucky I ain't real mean, sweetheart." he murmured, slamming his cock back into your leaking, sore cunt. The way it hit hard against your already tender cervix made you whimper, but you were glad he didn't do what you'd thought he was gonna do. It was upsetting you that you weren't more upset, frankly. The whole thing made you wanna be sick, especially the part where you were insanely close to orgasm suddenly.

"The funniest part of all this is that you're still gettin' off on it." he called you out as if he could read your mind.

You desperately shook your head, silent tears beginning to run down your cheeks and tickle onto your chin. You weren't enjoying this, weren't enjoying the rough way he was using you. You certainly weren't enjoying those strangely captivating eyes pinning you as he held you down.

"Please." he scolded. "It's one thing to be a whore. It's another thing to be a liar."

That actually managed to draw an embarrassing little sniffle from you; not his taunts, but the fact that you were fluttering so enthusiastically around him at his words. The man on top of you tilted his head again at this, watching you teeter on the edge of something terribly amazing.

"Poor pretty thing." he cooed with fake sympathy, rubbing away an errant tear with his thumb. Your neck ached at the angle he was holding it at. "Open."

You obeyed, and he spat in your mouth again. It actually didn't have much taste, and you swallowed with no complaint, your brain foggy from the rough way he was fucking you. The feeling of humiliation was still there, creeping hot up your back, but it also made you clench hard around him.

"Fuck." he snarled, suddenly pulling back from you, standing beside the bed again, one hand jerking himself as he grabbed you up onto your knees once more, his fist in your hair as he rubbed and slapped his throbbing cock against your face.

"Open your fuckin' mouth." he growled, pushing himself as far back down your throat as he could go as soon as you did, both hands cupping the back of your head as he skull-fucked you with wild abandon. Your hands braced on his hips, your efforts to blunt his thrusts futile. You gagged and choked and drooled as he used your throat; embarrassingly, one of your hands appeared on your swollen, aching clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he began to throb.

"Shit, girlie, you're gonna make me cum." he panted, pulling himself back from you, leaving you sputtering for air as he resumed rubbing his cockhead on your lips and cheeks. His eyes were burning into yours. "Better keep your mouth closed."

You clenched your lips between your teeth just as the first jet of his release hit your cheek, much thicker and hotter than you'd anticipated, another and then another, seemingly an endless amount covering your entire lower face, dribbling from your lips and chin as he groaned and growled his way through it. Your hand was still rubbing furiously between your legs, and he must've noticed, slipping his fingers down in place of yours and rubbing those same circles, his rough touch just what you needed to fall over the edge as well, moaning loudly as your whole body seized.

Everything was eerily quiet and calm as you both let your breathing settle, one hand supporting his weight against the wall by the head of the bed for a moment, his eyes hidden by the hat once more. Surprisingly, he undid the knot at the headboard, then the one around your wrist, tossing the rope down onto the floor next to the bed as he went rummaging around in his pockets. You noticed that he was tucked back away into his pants. Suddenly, a dingy handkerchief was pressed into your palm; it took you a moment to realize that he intended for you to clean the mess from your face with it.

You set to it, the incredibly thick, almost gelatinous substance difficult to wipe away with the thin square of cloth, but you managed to make it happen. Mostly. As you tidied yourself, he pulled the inhaler from one pocket and a rumpled pack of cigarettes from another, taking a puff and jamming a cig between his thin, cracked lips. He paused to hold the pack out to you, and you shook your head.

"You can take a break, kid. We've got all night." he said, lighting the smoke and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

You supposed he was right; you were absolutely exhausted physically after that whole ordeal, and it was his time. If he was alright with you resting some, you'd rest some. Carefully, you crawled up and laid your head on one of the pillows, your side against his back as he sat there, smoking and righting his clothes. In the back of your head, a little bug nagged at you.

"How did you know?" you asked, voice almost timid.

"Hmm?" he replied, his focus seemingly on re-winding the lasso.

"How did you know that, uh, tonight's my first night on the job?"

This got him to turn to you, a mischievous, but not unkind gleam in his gaze.

"I watched you for a while. Just got off the tram when you came outside, wanted a smoke. Noticed you. Couldn't not notice you. You looked like a nervous little bunny out there, just waitin' for a hawk to come and snatch you up."

"So you decided to be the hawk?"

"Yep."

You were both quiet again at this, the perfectly coiled rope now sitting near your feet. Outside, you could hear the clinking of glasses, the drunken laughter of gamblers and bar patrons. Your eyelids were so heavy.

You'd sort of assumed that you would want to cry yourself to sleep after what you'd been through, between the roller coaster of emotions and the general humiliation of it all; oddly enough, you didn't. Instead, you drifted off into a brief, fitful rest, dreaming of disgusting leather gloves and radiation-pillaged skin.

-

The Strip at twilight was quite the sight, the neon and bright colors washed mute by the early morning hues. It would be nice to stop and admire if you weren't so desperate to get out of town.

As much as you were loathe to admit it, the ghoul you'd been with the night before was right; you absolutely weren't cut out for this. You'd hated every single second of trying to entice people to pay you for sex, the way people had looked and leered at you as they'd gone by. Besides, your employers gave you the impression that they didn't have your best interest at heart. They also gave you the creeps.

And if anyone in the future wanted to go further than he had, you now knew you wouldn't be able to handle it. Though, you'd be lying if you said that you hadn't learned some things about yourself.

An unidentifiable feeling passed over you as you thought of him.

You'd awoken, shocked you'd managed to sleep at all, with quite the start, eyes frantically jumping to the clock to find that only about half an hour had passed. To your genuine surprise, the ghoul was gone, several hours still left in the time he'd paid for. The jug of water on the table was empty. You'd waited dutifully, naked on the bed, for the remainder of his time slot. You'd even kept the heels on. At first, you'd wondered if he'd maybe gone to the bar for a drink. But after another hour passed, you were fairly certain he wasn't coming back. Despite yourself, you were strangely disappointed.

At the end of his paid time, the end of your shift, you checked back in at the desk, collected your pay, and immediately went upstairs to collect your things.

Your meager possessions were few enough to fit into a little drawstring; you'd cast a quick glimpse at the destroyed shirt the man had cut off of you, crumpled on the floor with the rest of your uniform after you'd changed back into your dingy street clothes, before tucking it away into the bag. You weren't sure why. After that, you'd tucked the bag up inside your jacket, calmly walked outside for a "smoke", and kept walking until you made it outside the walls of Freeside, feeling like there were eyes on you the whole way. It was only once you were past the border of the junk fences that you allowed yourself to pause and take a shaky breath.

"You made the right choice." came a familiar drawl from behind you.

The voice startled you, already on edge as you worried about being followed from the casino, sending you freezing in the middle of the decaying road. Through the dusty haze, you could make out his hat and coat, emerging from behind a barricade of concrete, smoke in hand. The big gun was back in its place, slung loosely across his broad shoulders.

"You scared me." you hissed, your hand resting on your flying heart.

He tilted his head at you, those hauntingly beautiful eyes scanning you. He gave a shrug, which was very apparently not an apology.

"Where you headed?" he asked.

"I dunno." you confessed flatly, trying your best to not fidget in place. "Not here."

He took a long, long drag off of his smoke before dropping it into the dirt, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot before looking up at you underneath the brim of that accursed hat. Everything felt very familiar, all of the sudden. Another transaction waiting to happen.

"Quite the coincidence. I'm also headed 'not here'." he replied, quietly assessing you as he leaned against the barricade, lighting another cig.

You hesitated for a moment before responding, considering some things. But eventually, you replied, tone teasing:

"Looking for some company, are you?"

He smirked at you, smoldering cigarette hanging loosely between those vicious teeth.

"Sure am. Interested?"

You crossed the rest of the way over to him, standing close. The smell of leather and gunpowder washed over you once more.

"If you've got the caps, handsome."

[kindestegg]

The plush under Collector's bed: A totally necessary analysis, trust me

So, as a recap of this scene, before King leaves to visit Eda and Lilith, Collector asks King if he could sleep with François that night.

King reminds Collector that only himself and Luz can hold François, and Collector obliges but asks that he at least leave François there to "watch over him", claiming he "doesn't like being alone".

King does so, and Collector seems satisfied. It's very telling of Collector's development that they never touch François after this interaction, showing respect for King's boundaries.

... Except! This sweet little angel is actually a master trickster! A liar and a fiend!

He had a plush under his bed the whole time!!! In fact I'm pretty sure every shot of their little bedroom planet has the underside of Collector's bed obscured UNTIL King starts to leave and we pan to see the beds from an angle which reveals the plush!

You know what this means, right? Collector could have easily pulled his plush from under his bed and cuddled up with that if he hated sleeping alone so much, but he didn't. Why?

Well, I don't think he was lying about being lonely. Loneliness seems to be a prominent common theme for Collector, both declaring his loneliness back at the start of O' Titan, during a vulnerable moment where he didn't expect anyone to hear him, so he'd have no reason to lie there...

And then also having this acknowledged by King in the current episode, who has been living with him for about two months now, so he would know Collector's state of mind better than most here.

So... what gives? Was Collector really only out to force King to give François to him? Why?

Well, my current theory about this is what François means in this scenario: a connection to King. We know François is very important to King and King does not hide this when he expresses to Collector how he won't let them hold him.

To Collector, being able to sleep with François is the ultimate foolproof way to ensure King won't leave them. First, if King eventually lets them hold him, it signifies King would trust them enough with this and hold them to a regard as high as Luz, which we know Collector seems to be jealous of. I... just realized I should probably analyze that too, huh. Well, all in its due time.

And second, even if King won't allow them to hold François, but leaves them close to Collector in their room, that already acts as a guarantee. A guarantee that King will come back for François eventually, that King won't leave them to sleep alone the entire night.

Whatever the case, François is a symbol, a meter to test their closeness for Collector and King, and considering how many times Collector has lost people they considered friends before (whether those were real friends - in the case of the titan babies - or not - in the other collectors and Belos' case -) and have been double crossed by Belos, it's no wonder they have trust issues and want to make sure King does care about keeping them company.

So... that's it, then? He probably threw his original plush under the bed and then lied to King he lost it and is now constantly trying to get King to let him either hold François or at least keep him close to him as a connection between him and King?

Well... yeah, but if you'd allow me, I'd also like to talk a little on the symbology of the plush here. You see, while we can't make out the full of what the plush looks like, it appears to be some sort of canine with pointed ears and a poofy tail. Maybe it could be a titan, even a plush replica of King, but... I don't think so. There seems to be no stitching around the neck to signify it has a skull like titans do.

See, I think this is a fox plush. And why it is important in a metatextual sense that it is a fox requires a look into lots of different possibilities, each enriching the narrative in a different way.

For one, in popular folklore, foxes are seen as tricksters, lying and cheating their way into what's most convenient for them. Villain or hero, the fox is always winning people over through tricks.

This would align with the very nature of the plush being thrown under Collector's bed: it calls back to the fact he's tricking King with this. And yes, while Collector does have his problem with "fibbers", I don't think he's above more harmless tricks, we've seen him joke around with King before, purposefully feigning ignorance to mess with him, and the very nature of how he splattered Belos was through him lying that he wasn't mad. He may dislike it when a major lie is told, but little lies and sarcasm are no stranger to him.

Another possible connotation is the fact that rabbits and foxes are naturally prey and predator. François is a rabbit, Collector's plush is a fox. King, the member of the species that was hunted by the collectors, holds the prey animal, while Collector holds the predator animal...

The position of the plushes is also important here if we go with this interpretation: François is on top of King's bed, indicating he does not conceal he is the prey here and is well aware of this. He says so as much: "this whole time I was scared of making him mad". In general he behaves like a scared animal around Collector, despite their efforts to put them in equal grounds and the fact they have spent so long together and made considerable progress in their friendship.

Collector's fox on the other hand is under their bed, signifying Collector has concealed their fox, or maybe more appropriately, buried and left the fox behind. They may be part of the species that wiped out all the titans, the predators that so mercilessly hunted King's species as prey, but they want no part in this. Their backstory seems to involve wanting to play with titans and denouncing the other collectors after all, likely being bitter at them for ruining everything and hunting their new playmates to near extinction.

Alternative readings also include a few possible pop culture references. A possible one is the prominent role of the Fox in the Little Prince. While Hunter is the one who has been nicknamed "little prince" by Darius, Collector still seems more thematically similar to the character, being a child who came from space:

The similarity also hands itself to the fact King does somewhat resemble a fox with his canine qualities and fluffy tail, and in the story, the Fox was one of the first friends the Little Prince makes on Earth, and the one to teach him how to approach someone who does not trust you yet, to "tame" them.

Yet another possible reference this could be is the Disney movie "The Fox and the Hound":

Which seems like something I should frankly make a whole separate post comparing the eerie similarities it harbors to the current dynamic Collector and King hold. But to summarize, if you don't know the movie, it follows a hunting dog pup and a fox pup that become friends at a young age, and their friendship must overcome advertisities unique to their species.

If this is a reference to this particular movie, this once again has a different reading: Collector is clearly the hunting dog here, not the fox. For him to keep a fox under his bed would signify he wants to keep King close to him, safe under his bed and protected. This could even be a call back to the very last scene the titular fox and hound in the movie share: Copper, the hound, positions himself above the fallen Todd, the fox, protecting him. The plush being under the bed to mirror this would make sense.

Whew! I think that's everything that I had in mind to comment on this particular tiny easter egg. Whatever meaning you take from this about Collector's mysterious plush, I hope I could at least inspire something in you!

[writingquestionsanswered]

Distancing Character from Person of Same Name

Anonymous asked: I'm writing a fanfiction about an obscure pairing, and some time ago I met a person who has the same name as one of the characters, and now writing about this pairing makes me a little uncomfortable. It's a pretty common name, but I also see this person quite often and it's just weird for me. Do you have any advice so I can separate the character and the person in my head?

Here are some things you could try to distance this character from the person you know in real life who has the same name:

1 - Keep a Character Visual Handy - If you're writing fan-fiction about a canon character, you can search for promo pictures of the character. Or, if it's an OC or an original fiction character, you can try casting the character (see guide here: Guide: Casting Your Characters) with a real actor/model to help you visualize them. Try printing the picture out and tacking it up someplace where you can see it while you write. You could also keep it open on your phone, laptop screen, etc. This will help keep the character fresh in your mind as you write.

2 - Watch Clips or a Character Tribute - If you're writing fan-fiction and you're writing canon characters, odds are good there are clips or even fan-made character tributes of this character on YouTube. Watching some clips or a character tribute before you write is another great way to make sure the character is fresh in your head, rather than the person you know who shares their name. If you're writing an OC or original fiction and you've cast your character with a real actor or model, you could look for clips of movies or shows they're in that closely matches the vibe of your character, and watch those before you write. Or, you could put together some character aesthetics/mood boards and look at those before you write.

3 - Make a List of Differences - Try making a list of all the ways you can think of that your character and their inadvertent namesake are different. No detail is too small. When you're around the real person with that name, really try to focus on the things that make them different from your character.

4 - Change Up the Name a Bit - If you're writing a canon character, your options might be limited, but see if there's a canon nickname for this character you can lean on in your story that makes sense. For example, let's say the shared name is Madison, and the person you know in real life only ever goes by Madison. But maybe the canon character is sometimes called Madi by other characters... if you use Madi as often as it makes sense, that can help to create some distance.

If you're writing an OC or original fiction, you have more room to give your character a nickname of your choosing, and most names have a variety of possible nicknames. You could also try altering the spelling or changing the name to something that sounds very similar.

5 - Talk About It - If you're comfortable talking to this person about that fact that you're a writer, see if you can find an opportunity to share that you happen to be writing about a character with the same name. If it's a fan-fiction character, you can say something like, "Have you ever heard of the TV show ----? There's a character in it named -----, and I've been writing about her and another character, so I always think about that character when I see you." Or, something like that. Sometimes, just getting it out of your head (if possible) can sort of interrupt the connection in your head.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[roosterr]

put me back in it

nikolai x gn!reader wc: 2.3k | ao3 summary: nikolai up and disappeared one day. you thought you'd never see him again, but then he shows up at your door in the middle of the night. warnings: angst, implied smut, kinda ex!nikolai, eventually happy ending

sometimes, on nights where sleep evades you, the memories of him creep back in from the corners of your mind, filling you with the same empty longing that ensnared you like barbed wire around your heart when he vanished all those months ago.

it’s nikolai, the one your thoughts always seem to wander to when you're not paying attention. he never told you his last name, you’re not even sure if that's actually his first, but it never mattered to you back then. 

the night you met still brings a smile to your face. a concert, some obscure band you can't quite remember, where he'd spilled his drink over you and dampened your mood in an instant. with how apologetic he'd been, you found it hard to be annoyed with him, especially after he laid his jacket over your shoulders. he was by your side for the rest of the night, your grievances all but forgotten when his hand met the small of your back and the warmth of his body enveloped you.

you’d given the better part of a year to him, but he’d left you. slipped away in the middle of the night, while you were sleeping in the bed you shared more often than not, and that night was the last you heard from him. waking up alone, without so much as a note explaining why he disappeared, hurt you more than any explanation he could’ve given. no matter how many times you called him the line was always dead, every text left unseen. you resigned yourself to the fact that you would never get the closure your heart yearned for. eventually you stopped trying to reach him altogether.

it happened so fast, a romance so fleeting you’re not sure you have the right to be so torn up about it over a year after you first met – but still, you are. you still think about him when you watch the planes fly overhead, the streetlights against the night sky, and in the company taking up space in your bed as you gaze up at the ceiling.

the guy from the bar looks vaguely similar to nikolai, and that's admittedly why you'd taken him home with you, but the regret was sinking in now and you were already thinking up a way to kick him out as soon as possible.

the sound of a heavy pounding on your door breaks the silence. your companion makes no indication he's even still awake, the arm laid over your abdomen feeling more like deadweight than anything else.

"i'll get it," you mumble, mostly to yourself, tossing his arm to the mattress and pushing yourself up. you feel blindly for a shirt, finding one on the floor by your closet you're sure used to be his, and you don't particularly want to wear it but the knocking has increased in intensity and doesn't seem like it'll stop anytime soon.

so, with an airy sigh, you make for the front door, grabbing your robe as you leave your bedroom to slip over your half-dressed form, and calling out as you turn on the light in the entryway, "i'm coming, shut up!"

in your exhausted state, it slips your mind to check the peephole before you swing the door open and frown at whoever is on the other side. if you had, perhaps you wouldn't have opened it in the first place.

your muscles seize up, and in an instant it's like you're paralysed, one hand on the door and the other holding your robe together, scarcely even breathing as you lock eyes with the man in front of you.

it's nikolai.

his hair is a mess and his stubble is more grown out than you'd ever seen it, as if he had no time to fix his appearance before coming here, but he's no less beautiful even after all this time. the way his chest rises and falls indicates that he'd been running, and you can tell he's holding something behind his back.

your eyes narrow as you meet his, in curiosity or malice you're not quite sure. his brows are knitted in what could only be regret as he opens his mouth, but by now your sense has returned to you and you go to slam the door in his face. it doesn't shut, and you look down to see his boot wedged in the frame, his free hand coming up to push it back open as you gape at him.

he whispers your name, so softly it barely reaches your ears, but you hear it and the familiar shiver it sends down your spine scares you more than anything.

"let me explain," he's pleading, his gaze earnest as those endless brown eyes stare into yours. you stop trying to close the door on him, against your better judgement, and let him push it open once more.

"what could you possibly have to say that would excuse what you did?" you hiss, igorging the tremble in your bottom lip. you fold your arms tightly over your chest as he eyes fall guiltily to the floor. "it's been seven months, i thought you were dead, nikolai!"

"i will tell you everything, солнышка, please, just let me in." he murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically weak as he leans against your doorframe. his smoky scent reaches you all at once, a wave of nostalgia crashing over you from simply standing so close to him.

your heart constricts, that barbed wire he left there making itself known again, but you take a step back anyway. you don't look at him as he crosses over the threshold, closing the door behind him and making a beeline for the living room without meeting his eyes once. you hear him remove his boots before he trails after you, and curse him for being so considerate.

the crinkle of plastic meets your ears as he follows, and you turn around to see him bringing a small bouquet of roses out from behind his back. the quiet of the night buzzes in your ears, unable to tear you eyes away from the crimson petals as he holds them out to you, and the way the light from the hall illuminates him from behind. the thought crosses your mind that you should reject them, but you can’t bring yourself to. you take them from him, careful not to let your hands touch, and set them gently on the coffee table.

you sink into the corner of the couch while he does the same at the opposite end, the distance sending another aching twinge through your heart. despite the pain that he put you through, the resentment you hold for him, you still longed to be comforted in his arms, for him to hold you close like before.

"explain, then." you murmur, his gaze causing goosebumps to ripple across your skin as you curl into yourself. the anger has left your voice, replaced by the never-ending tiredness that he left you with.

he clears his throat, something nervous in his body language. it's unnatural, so unlike him that it rubs off on you too when you hear it in his voice, "i’m sorry, my love–"

"don’t." the endearment still gives you butterflies, even though you know it shouldn't, and you wish it didn't.

"i couldn’t– you would have been in danger if i stayed with you, i couldn’t do that to you." he leans forward, his elbows on his knees, the crease between his brows deepening with every word.

"what do you mean danger?" you frown again, sitting up straight in disbelief and slight unease from the seriousness of his expression. he purses his lips and looks away from you. "nikolai?"

"i’m…" he pauses, running a hand through his hair. his obvious anxiety only feeds into your own as you wait for him to continue, subconsciously leaning closer to him. "i am a dangerous man, солнышка. i make a lot of enemies."

your heart stutters at that, a fear creeping in from the corners of your mind – not for yourself, but for him. "you’re not explaining anything. just tell me, nik."

there's another pause. he shuffles closer again, meeting your eyes with a look that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

"i’m a mercenary." he finally admits. it was a surprise, of course, but you couldn't help but feel like it made sense. all the secrecy you'd looked past before, working odd hours but never telling you more, even when you'd pried.

he moves closer again, letting his hand rest next to yours on the cushion. you feel the warmth radiating from him, and your fingers twitch with the effort of keeping them still.

"i work with dangerous people, special forces…" he lets his voice trail off, taking in the shock of your expression. "we fight terrorists, my love, people who would do anything to hurt us."

you scoff, humourless and a lot more defeated than you intended, "so you thought you’d disappear in the middle of the night? let me think you hated me?"

a shaky breath escapes him, his hand finally closing the distance and covering yours. you can't even bring yourself to think you should stop him anymore, the part of you that's missed him for all these lonely months wins over easily and you lean even more into his touch.

"i never wanted to hurt you, милая, i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you." he murmurs, barely any space between you now but he still doesn't push you past what you're ready for. "i never should've left you like that, and i'm so sorry that i did."

"why’re you telling me all of this now?" you whisper. your uncertain gaze meets his and it's like the rest of the world has faded away. his shadow covers you and you lean even closer, feeling his breath fanning over your face.

"because my life isn’t complete without you." his eyes search yours, his free hand coming up to run his fingers along your jaw in a featherlight touch that leaves your skin tingling in his wake. "you have every right to hate me, but i have loved you for every moment we were apart."

it's involuntary when you lean into his hand, his palm cupping your cheek so tenderly as the whisper of his name passes your lips, "nik…"

his forehead touches yours and any opposition you had to letting him near you again is forgotten. "please, let me make things right, my love."

instead of responding, you push forward and close the final gap by pushing your lips against his with a desperation that he easily reciprocates. he sighs into your mouth, shifting his hand to the back of your neck and pulling you impossibly closer, tiling his head for a better angle. it's sweet and passionate, and it takes you back to when you first met him, the bittersweet memory bringing the sting of tears to your eyes.

you pull back after a moment, your breathing laboured and your eyes glassy as they flutter back open. he smiles softly when you bring your own hand up to cradle his face, leaning back slightly to meet your gaze.

"i'm not forgiving you," you start, stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. you watch his eyes widen at your words and his smile falter, and you quickly continue, "but, i am willing to give you a second chance."

his grin returns, and he presses his lips to your cheek in a lingering kiss. "i will never hurt you like that again, милая." he murmurs in your ear, giving your nape a gentle squeeze where his hand still rests.

the tension between you is gone, he feels comforting and safe, like he always had before; everything feels right again.

the spell is broken unceremoniously by the guy from the bar – who you'd, somewhat embarrassingly, completely forgotten about – piping up from the doorway, "who the hell is that?"

"fuck–!" you startle, parting from nikolai and staring wide-eyed at his silhouetted form over nik's shoulder. he's staring the two of you down with a look that's a lot more offended than you think it should be, considering you only met a few hours prior and he hadn't been significant enough for you to even remember his name.

with a tired groan you drag a hand down your face, securing your robe across your front as you stand. he's dressed, thankfully, so you pinch the bridge of your nose and wave him off noncommittally, "can you just go?"

he scoffs and throws his arms out to the side in annoyance, taking a step towards you as he spits, "seriously? you're just gonna–"

nikolai interrupts his complaining by standing to his full height, towering over the man as he puts a hand out to stop him in his tracks. it works, and whatever he was planning on saying immediately dying on his tongue as he looks up at nik. 

the silence in the room is stifling as your eyes dart between the two men, but it's short-lived. nik takes a menacing step towards him, and though you can't see his face, you're sure he's wearing a deadly expression to match.

it takes less than a second for him to cut his losses, quickly backing out into the hall and fumbling hurriedly with your front door. nik follows him as he leaves, making a show of slamming and locking the door behind him.

he turns off the hall light before returning to you, bathing the two of you in darkness and strips of pale moonlight. your skin bristles as his fingers gaze your sides, his thick arms finding their way around your back as your hands rest at his collar.

"no need for cheap imitations," he utters, low and sultry, the vibrations of his voice felt under your palms, "you have me now, мои люблю."

[solaris-amethyst]

💫Let's win together?💫

✨Pairing: non idol!Mingi x gn!reader ✨Prompt: We're both playing for the same obscure item. This is the fifth arcade I've seen you at... Want to join forces? ✨Word count: 1.4k ✨Genre: fluff, strangers to friends ☀️Authors note: I have never been to an arcade so apologies for my bad description of the arcade game lol, the left picture is what I was trying to describe😅 but what did you guys think? Did you like this one?💓

There he was, you had been looking for the tall man who you had seen at multiple arcades. The two of you had been next to each other at multiple games and you had overheard him complain to his friends about how it was darn near impossible to win the little penguin holding a little umbrella and wearing cute little rain boots and a little scarf.

It was said to be very rare and apparently the two of you had both been trying to win it and both had been equally unsuccessful in winning. Your plan had been to go and ask him to work with you and see if at least one of you could win the darn penguin. You kept glancing at him waiting for him to be alone, not wanting to go up and talk to him as he was surrounded by his friends.

His friends were all laughing with him and talking. It took around fifteen minutes before the group split up and the man was alone walking to the first game to play. That's when you walked towards him, sliding up next to him.

"Hello, sorry if this is weird but we're both playing for the same super rare penguin with the umbrella, the rain boots and the scarf. This is like the fifth arcade I've seen you at... Want to join forces to see if at least one of us could win it?" You said as he had turned to you in slight surprise when you had started to speak to him.

"Umm.. hi? Sorry you really shocked me." He said looking a bit flabbergasted at the fact that you had just slid up next to him to talk to him. You shifted your weight from on feet to the other when he looked at you not sure what to say next.

"Sorry I probably came across as like super weird just sliding up to you like this. Let me start over, hi I'm y/n, we've been playing next to each other at a few arcades and I over heard you want the penguin as well and thought that maybe if we joined together at least one of us would have the satisfaction of winning the cute penguin." you told him and a small smile morphed onto his face.

"I knew you looked familiar. I'm Mingi! Nice to meet you." He shakes your hand "you know what I wouldn't say no to working together with someone so good-looking like you to win the penguin." he said with a smile and a wink, now it was your turn to look at him slightly flabbergasted at the fact that he was so bold despite having looked at you with big eyes and a shocked face just a few mere seconds ago.

The two of you ended up laughing when you locked eyes after his comments finding the whole situation a bit weird yet funny.

"So shall we go to the two games where we can try and win the penguin with the crane?" you asked looking towards the two machines where a bunch of plushies were located.

"Sure let's go!"

The two of you took your places and put in some money to play for the penguin.

"So, what made you start hunting for the penguin and not something easier?" Mingi asked glancing at you with curious eyes before turning back to start moving his claw machine in hopes of getting the plushie.

"Oh I just thought It was really cute and I may or may not have gotten competitive when a friend of mine told me there is no way I could get it. So I wanted to prove them wrong!" You told him before groaning when you saw that the plushie you picked up was another penguin but not the one you wanted.

"Ah that's similar to me. Had a friend dare me to get it and I didn't get it so I lost that truth or dare round and decided I had to get the darn penguin."

The two of you were conversing, getting to know each other more and more as your pile of plushies on the ground next to you grew and grew. The two of you were sharing stories about your friends and laughing as you continued the game, Mingi decided to tell you a story about how his friend Wooyoung had gotten stuck in one of the games causing you to laugh even louder.

"Wait wait wait, you mean to tell me he got his arm stuck in a game like this one?" you asked having to stop playing to fully look at Mingi who were trying to keep his laughter in as he told the story.

"Yeah, he was trying to win a plushie for our friend Yeosang and it got stuck on the way out and instead of calling a worker for help he stuck his arm inside the space where the plush lands to try and reach it but he got stuck as well."

"I would have panicked if I were him and had gotten stuck, like can you imagine? I get like shivers just thinking about it." You confessed and he nodded

"Yeah I always worry now when I pick up the plushies I win that I will get stuck despite knowing that I won't because I'm not shoving my entire arm in there." He told you as he picked up another plush that he just won and dropping it into the pile you had now made joint.

It was big and people were beginning to stare as they walked past the two of you, not that neither of you cared you were too busy in your own world of chatting and playing to notice. It wasn't until a worker came up to the two of you that you realized how absurd it all looked.

"Um excuse me but I'm gonna have to ask the two of you to leave this game. You've played for far too long and the amount of plushies you have is enough." The worker told the two of you catching the both of you by surprise

"Oh im so sorry we didn't realize how many we had at this point." You told the worker whilst apologizing.

"Well stop playing we promise!" Mingi agreed, neither of you wanted to cause a scene so the two of you bent down to pick up all the random plushies as the worker walked away, happy the two of you would stop playing and let others play as well.

"Well... we sure got a lot of plushies but not our special little penguin." He said before giggling at the way the two of you were standing holding two gigant mountains of plushies.

"I can barely see because of all of the plushies." You said trying to see over them with barely any success.

"Why don't we go over to where my friends are hanging out, dumping them there and then going to another arcade to see if we can get our prize?" He asked looking over his own pile towards you.

"Sure! I would like that!" With that he lead the way to his friends to the best of his abilities. His friends were all talking and laughing until the two of you arrived with your mountains. That caused them to stop at the same moment Mingi dumped all of his plushies on the table before turning to help you unload yours as well.

"Hi everyone this is my new friend y/n. Can you guys watch our plushies for us? We're going to the arcade down the street to win that darn penguin plush! Great! Thank you!" Mingi said barely giving you time to say hello to his friends before he was steering you towards the exit. His friends were shouting a varying degrees of nice to meet you, yah Mingi and we'll call when we leave this place! As the two of you left them with the plushies.

Once outside you glanced at Mingi with a smirk before dashing off towards the next arcade shouting at him: "Last one there is a rotten egg!!"

"Yah!! That's not fair you got a head-start!!!" He shouted back before chasing after you to the next arcade. Neither of you really caring at this point if you got the penguin or not, just enjoying the new blossoming friendship between the two of you.

[randomgirlyoudontknow]

No one will probably read this, but as a long-time fan of ATLA (as in, I literally watched the show as it aired in 2005-2008), I wanted to share my thoughts on the live action. Let it be known that I am far from an ATLA purist––the original certainly had its own flaws and aspects that didn't age well, in retrospect. Despite the generally negative reviews I've seen from the fandom, I was actually very satisfied with this adaptation! But I’ve seen people saying that the characters were butchered, that it’s a soulless and superficial reproduction, and those who liked the live action aren’t capable of thinking/watching critically, which I wanted to push back against (I mean, I’m working on a doctorate in literature…I am quite literally incapable of watching anything uncritically).

The shift in tone to a darker, more mature one was a positive change, imo. It is definitely a much angrier show than the original, even if some of the characters were not as fiery as they should have been (*cough* Katara *cough*). Overall, while there were certainly decisions made that I didn't agree with (mainly related to pacing and narrative), I thought the cast and crew really captured the spirit of the original, and even added depth and nuance to parts I felt were initially lacking.

In general, I really appreciated the added emphasis on the cost and suffering of war and imperialism, as well as the depiction of the physical effects of bending. Now, I realize this is largely a matter of personal preference––for example, I'm very interested in depictions of war in fiction (I mean, my dissertation partially covers the impact of WWI on avant-garde art & literature, so...). But I've seen several claims that the live action glorifies war and violence in a way that is meant to traumatize the viewer, and I simply don't think that's true? While the original handled war, genocide, trauma, etc. in a phenomenal way for a kid's show in the early 2000s, it was also still sanitized when it comes to death and injury, to an extent that I feel like we, the viewers, almost lose sight of the fact that bending KILLS. Sure, we were exposed to its after effects, like the death of Katara and Sokka's mother or Zuko's scar, but there's something to be said actually seeing and acknowledging the very palpable danger that something like firebending presents.

I've even seen someone say that the show's depiction of "gratuitous violence" constitutes a "profound misunderstanding" of the source text, which I think is frankly a bad faith take. The death and violence, though more realistic, is still not a major focus of the show, nor is it glorified in any way. A glorification of violence would look like indiscriminate killing and maiming for the sake of edginess (looking at you GOT). We would see graphic depictions of death and injuries, which simply does not happen in this show (they even joke about the fact that we never see anyone die in Ember Island Players). War and fighting are still treated with the same depth and gravity as the original, only this time, the severity of its consequences isn't obscured from the viewer.

I also thought the show's handling of trauma (especially Katara's) was excellent. The choice to have Katara's mom's death revealed in flashbacks (specifically when around firebending) was something that really stood out to me. And the new characterization of Bumi, which I realize was quite unpopular, was another change I quite appreciated. His bitterness and cynicism seemed more in-line with someone who had endured 100 years of war and the suffering of his people at the hands of a brutal imperial force. Lastly, I was pleased to see the narrative attempt to address the role Iroh played in the Siege of Ba Sing Se (something that was absolutely missing from the original). The Earth Kingdom soldier confronting him and calling him a butcher was a powerful moment, for me. I truly hope the show continues to dive into this aspect of his character in future seasons.

Speaking of characters, I loved that we got extra background and insight into several of the characters. Zhao, for example, was unexpectedly quite funny, and his actor really did a phenomenal job of fleshing him out and making him feel like a real person (as slimy and smarmy as he was) rather than a stock, cartoon villain. And I have to give kudos to the actors who played Sokka and Zuko––they both did an incredible job of embodying their respective characters, in a way that felt highly reminiscent of the original. In particular, I thought the handling of Zuko's backstory was truly outstanding––perhaps even better than the original.

All in all, I felt the live action did a really nice job of balancing the darker sides with the light. While I've seen fans complaining that the show doesn't have the same goofiness and lightheartedness, I actually thought the humor worked really well––it was one of the few times I felt the overly ironic, Joss Whedonesque one-liners actually fit. Sure, the humor was a lot drier and more toned down than the original, but I nonetheless thought it carried the show's spirit well (loved that they let Sokka say “ass” not once, but twice). There were moments when I genuinely laughed out loud! I also appreciated how, despite the more mature tone, hope, friendship, and harmony still remained the most important aspect at the end of each episode.

There's a lot of room for improvement, but I was overall very satisfied with the live action, and I'm very glad that the series has been renewed. I'm very excited to see what the cast and crew does with the rest of the show!

[pretty-toru]

Recently I've been thinking about how Gojo would introduce his non-sorcerer s/o who's completely unaware of cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcery about that part of his life. And he'd maybe start by explaining his blindfold or black-out sunglasses.

I'd like to think that he still sometimes forgets about the small things and shows up at your doorstep in his teacher's uniform paired with his blindfold after a tiresome day of work. You've never really seen him outside of his sunglasses and casual attire and Gojo has kept the details of his profession hidden from you for good reason. Now he's less careful about his appearance since he feels ready to reveal more about himself that's "otherworldly".

Besides, Gojo thinks that it's easier to break the news about how he's part of the Big Three Clans, inherited this special pair of Six Eyes, and he's the Strongest Sorcerer who exorcises curses for a living AFTER you've fallen so hopelessly in love with him that you'll choose to stay with him no matter. (You'd probably flat-out reject him if you knew from the beginning).

So when you answer the door doing a once over of a strange and tall man dressed in dark clothing with his eyes covered sporting a wide grin upon seeing you, you're almost wary as you keep the door open enough just to see out.

"...Can I help you?"

"I've had a long day, sweetheart. Aren't you going to let me in?"

"???" "Sorry? But who are you?"

"Ah, right right. Gimme one second." Gojo then removes the cloth obscuring his eyes and his soft white hair cascades over his forehead as he switches to his sunglasses and you suddenly realize that the stranger is indeed your boyfriend. "You know, I'm actually hurt you didn't recognize me because I'd know you anywhere, angel."

You're dumbfounded as you lower your guard and Gojo enters your apartment and places a kiss on your pretty lips, commenting about how something smells amazing and asks what's cooking for dinner while he unzips his outerwear and tosses it on your couch. But you're still dazed about what just happened and it felt too weird to simply gloss over the fact. "Hang on, aren't we going to talk about what just happened?"

"Hm? Talk about what?" Gojo feigns perfect innocence, making his sweet way to your cabinets and drawers to retrieve two plates and utensils after observing the table hadn't been set yet.

"Your blindfold? And what you're wearing?" Your hand is placed firmly on your hip with a skewed expression, gesturing the wooden spoon in your grip that was used to stir the pot of beef stew at him.

"It's my work uniform. The blindfold is part of it."

"I'm confused, I thought you were a teacher? How are you able to see in that?"

"I'll tell you all about it once I have some of your delicious food in me, okay hun?" Gojo's quick in his stride to set the dishes in their rightful places before he's gently cooing your suspicions away and leading you back into the kitchen with his hand on the small of your back. "C'mon I'll help you finish dinner then I'll answer your questions. I promise you."

You deflate with a sigh. "...Okay."

After enjoying dinner, Gojo helps you clear the table and with all the promises he makes to you he earnestly keeps. He's quite sure you'll come up with more questions than you already have as he's slowly but surely eases you into his world as a shaman — his way of telling you that he’s serious about you. Gojo loves and trusts you enough to reveal all the parts of himself to you in due time, and he can only hope that you'll wholeheartedly accept him in his entirety.

[metalheadsforblacklivesmatter]

Hey, love the post you make about obscure disabilities. Could you make/ have you made about dysgraphia?

Sure. This will be my post for disability pride month tomorrow. Which I'm posting now because I don't have the spoons to schedule it for tomorrow.

I hope you don't mind I turn this into a combo one because I have a hard time mentally processing one of these conditions without understanding all three.

(Obligatory I do not have any of these conditions. This is not meant to be a diagnostic tool. Please do your own research. I'm only answering a question that was asked of me and it's really hard for me to explain one of these without explaining all of the similar conditions to differentiate them.)

And I hope that you don't mind my poorer language skills right now I'm recovering from a server sinus headache I've had all day.

Dyslexia vs Dyscalculia vs Dysgraphia (bonus round Dyspraxia)

These issues have like, a 30% comorbidity rate. So if you have one there's a 30% chance you'll have either of the others. People with conditions may be perceived as "slow" but they are not intellectual disabilities (Not that there's nothing wrong with intellectual disabilities. I'm just pointing it out because people will say "you can't have dyslexia. You're so smart.")

But the fact that they're comorbid and often comorbid with autism and adhd causes some misunderstandings around the conditions because people think they have one condition and attribute all of their issues to the one condition with no knowledge that its not just one condition they're expressing.

Dyslexia

Dyslexia is characterized by the limited processing and comprehension of graphic symbols, particularly those regarding language. People with it have poor reading skills, flipping letter sequences and words, and poor handwriting. Although it is a learning disability, it's important to note that dyslexia does not impact a person's intelligence, although they may seem slower due to poor language processing skills. (There's nothing wrong with disabilities that impact intelligence, I just don't want people saying "he can't be dyslexic because he's so smart".)

Many representations of dyslexia often exhibit letters tap dancing across the page, shape shifting, and doing backflips. It's important to note that these are incorrect representations, because it's really hard to give a visual representation of what people with dyslexia experience. However, it's really harmful to express dyslexia in this fashion as it leads to people thinking that they don't have dyslexia when they actually do.

As I understand it, dyslexia is the eyes/ brain being able to flow seamlessly when reading large blocks of text. Ways to combat this is cut out a strip to block off lines when you read them. Use a highlighted strip of paper to highlight lines as you read them.

Fun fact, there's a few fonts that space the letters well enough and differentiate similar letters enough that make it easier to read. Comic Sans font is the most widely accessible accessibility tool for dyslexic people as it's one of the easy to read fonts that on every machine. (These accessibility tools have proven to make everyone read faster, dyslexia or no. But people with dyslexia have found them instrumentalin functioning. )

Another fun fact. Rick Riordan wrote Lightning Thief so that his dyslexic son could have representation in a character that had the same disability as him.

Dyscalculia

Dyscalculia is often called "math dyslexia". People with Dyscalculia have issues with numbers. They have poor math skills, issues interpreting graphs, issues doing basic arithmetic, issues understanding things like place value, issues understanding time especially when it comes to reading an analog clock, and issues seeing patterns. This often causes a high level of anxiety around math. Some reports say these people have issues with directions, remembering locations, and reading maps (though research is inconsistent on that one).

Dysgraphia

Dysgraphia is easy to mix up with dyslexia, which is why I needed to write all these out. Where dyslexia is difficulty reading. Dysgraphia is difficulty writing. Symptoms include difficulty writing words, expressing thoughts in written form, and organizing and processing your thoughts. This can cause issues with social communication for obvious reasons.

These people also may have fine motor perception issues, writing in a straight line, spacing their letters correctly, etc. Especially fine motor skills around writing. They may also have issues with grammar, punctuation, and capitalization.

Bonus Round:

Dyspraxia

This one gets mixed with dyslexia two. Dyspraxia is issues with spacial awareness. They often say they can't tell where their limbs are in space. They may have issues with coordination, walking in a straight line, and balance. It's very hard for me to conceptualize, but people that have it may say that they bang their limbs against things due to poor spacial awareness. Which honestly, relatable. I've slammed me calf into a door before. And my shoulder blade. How? Good question.

These people have issues in social situations because their entire focus will be on their coordination, not making a mess, and not making a fool of themselves, etc. Their issues actually get better when they drink because the stress of sucked situations makes it worse and alcohol loosens them up. (I'm not advocating for drinking, but saying that the issues resolving when your drink validates your dyspraxia, not invalidates it.)

I think a lot of people that know of the condition may think people with low depth perception have dyspraxia. A lot of people have told me they think I have dyspraxia because my lack of depth perception negatively impacts my spacial awareness.

-fae

[amerricanartwork]

I want to say I love reading your headcanons, especially your Iterator ones. Do you have a unique headcanons for Pebbles, since you haven't talked about him much?

Ohhh, I'm so glad to hear that!! I love creating and typing down these headcanons, but sometimes I worry whether anyone actually wants to read these long posts about it, so it's always so nice to hear people appreciate them!

I would love to talk more about Five Pebbles! I actually have quite a few headcanons for him specifically since I tend to ponder him a lot. In fact, of all the canon characters, when it comes to headcanons that aren't purely working out their general personality and backstory I think I currently have more outside headcanons for him than anyone else.

But nonetheless, assuming you mean "unique" as "interesting and relatively uncommon/unheard of in the fandom", here's one of mine that might seem odd or specific, but I really like it!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I’ve headcanoned for at least a few months now that Five Pebbles is very much an auditory learner. He’s more receptive to spoken and auditory information than just written text, and as such he tends to talk a lot, which is how he best formulates his ideas. 

Now, when I call him an auditory learner (or maybe just an audio-oriented person in general would be a better way to describe it), I also mean he generally cares a lot about how things “sound” to him. Five Pebbles pays close attention to how certain sounds “feel” in a sense, not just with regular abstract sounds, but spoken words, phrases, and ideas too. He likes it when sentences flow smoothly, convey the proper emotion or idea, and sound intellectual and well-thought-out, and dislikes when phrases sound clunky, confusing, or otherwise unprofessional and improper. In situations where he wants to appear smart and sophisticated, especially in a competitive sense, he loves flexing his extremely large vocabulary by throwing in long and obscure words and technical jargon too. To reference my last headcanon ask, this trait is another quality making him dislike NSH, who doesn’t care as much about grammar or syntax and thus tends to speak in casual ways Pebbles finds “improper”.

Usually, when he has a decent amount of uninterrupted personal time, Pebbles will spend several hours on end just talking to himself in his chamber to work out his ideas and plan any essays or speeches he’s preparing to give. He loves making sure that every sentence sounds pleasing, proper, and is grammatically correct, yet still explains his ideas thoroughly and accurately. However, despite being an introvert who values his alone time, he sometimes talks about his ideas to other iterators, especially when he wants feedback and criticism. In fact, having long discussions and debates, particularly about scientific, artistic, and philosophical matters, is perhaps one of the only things he actively enjoys doing with other people.

In this latter regard, this habit was actually one of the only reasons he occasionally, yet still actively sought out the presence of Unparalleled Innocence, someone whom I headcanon he never had much of a relationship at all with, positive or negative (at least pre-AU, that is). But nonetheless, Innocence is a very good listener and never declined an invitation to talk with him, though more often than not it turned more into him just rambling about something and her quietly listening and encouraging him to continue on (which she did for… other reasons besides her fascination with the subjects of his speeches, but I will get to those some other day…)

Another facet to this headcanon is that Pebbles has a strong appreciation for music. He finds it helps him calm down and work through his emotions very well, alongside one other habit I’ll address in a more official headcanon post. Thus, he’s got various music pearls with his favorite tunes that he’ll listen to while working or when he needs to relax. The purple one in Rivulet’s campaign is only one of many, though that was also the only one he could obtain at the time his chamber was broken into by the rot. 

His love of music has always been another little “worldly pleasure” that he took for granted, not realizing just how much he enjoyed it until after mass-ascension. And even then, he stuffed it deep inside him and kept trying to downplay its value to him all the way until his rot condition was almost at its climax. This emotional turmoil I imagine him having is a particular element of his character arc I find very interesting even in regular Downpour canon, but once again I will elaborate on it more later…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Anyway, there's the headcanon! Seeing as I'm planning to explain major character info in official headcanon posts, I tried to choose one that wasn't too essential for narrative comprehension, but is still unique and hopefully decently entertaining in-and-of itself. I also tried to use this to test a new format of doing more sketches for these headcanon posts, so it's not as much pure text.

Anyway, I hope you like it! And if you (or anyone else reading this, for that matter) ever want more headcanons, or can add to this one, don't be afraid to send another ask!

[amphiptere-art]

I want to point out exactly how I think the daycare attendants, timeline? Is. It's a bunch of sporadic theories I'm putting together.

So first part of the timeline. Jack. Jack existed as a sort of spooky singular attraction kind of guy. His main attraction was the carousel. But he was around way back during Fall fest. That's why the DCA has some very old and very strange electronics to him. Because they were just figuring out how to animatronic, and in a way he is "mimic age".

Fall fest then sort of had a fire problem, And a lot of the assets had to be skimmed down. They had to lower the costs of maintenance and probably cut some hours. And the easiest way to cut maintenance money is to get rid of stuff that have high maintenance and low customer reviews. Either that or make something new. So Jack o Moon Is thrown into storage in order to lower costs.

Much like a lot of stuff that was around during the Fall fest days. He was kind of lost to time. Held in an obscure basement as Fazbear's expanded into a standing restaurant place. But after a while. Presumably during the years help wanted came out as a game. They finally found Jack. But he had been in storage for years. You can kind of guess what that does to your complexion. Plus his original purpose had been practically forgotten. Probably only a couple documents here and there.

So fazco decided to sort of rebrand him. They probably read the item tag Jack o Moon. Or maybe they didn't. Maybe it had worn away to just moon. And decided to go with the moon title. Giving him that new makeup. Now Jack also has a "sun mode". Although it is very much unknown if this was utilized in his base form. But it is clearly there and shown. So they probably found out about that mode and decided to also give it a proper touch up. Creating a sun side of the Moon.

Now Jack was still sort of online. Jack as a walk around horror attraction. Was already sort of used to theatrics. So they decided to try him out in the theater. Slapped on some more appropriate code into Jack and put them out there. Jack utilizing the sun and moon modes as Eclipse~. He was basically one person playing two rolls. And the light thing was still active. It was just a convenient way to get the two modes to switch out seamlessly and with a cool effect.

But the moon's part of his act starts to get more... Scary. It started bleeding into that old haunted house-esk personality. The one from Fall fest. That scary Jack o Moon. The robots personality started to split. The people also started to just refer to them as they're two different personalities. Despite the fact that eclipse/Jack was still very much one person. And with the personality switch they start to get concerned.

So they decided to fix it. They move him into the daycare. Somewhere where theatrics are not encouraged to be acted as deeply. And the only act that is good, is to be nice. Eclipse was still sort of one person. But the two acts were getting separated more and more. That nicer moon coding was still sort of in there. It was just being infected by the whole haunted performer act Jack-O-Moon. So they slowly had sun take more and more online time. As this eviler moon only comes out when the moon was out for too long.

But sooner or later it becomes a hassle. Sure Moon is being nice. But every once in a while that evil Jack coding comes out. Sun becomes more sustainable. Sun was sort of built from the ground up while Moon was already there and they simply changed the furnishing. So there became less and less nap times and more daytime. The nice moon and sun reports start turning into the evil Moon and crazy sun reports. Sun unable to handle the children for so long, And that old Jack coding bleeding into moon more and more often.

It is around this time that the virus happened. I believe it came from the arcade. Either that or snuck into Moon's coding with the security protocol. Whichever way it happened. The split finally becomes permanent. Eclipse doesn't really exist anymore. Jack is infected and thrown to the front. The nicer Moon falls in between the gaps. Probably becoming our equivalent of eclipse in ruin. Therefore filling the whole three personality thing.

Also this is more of a note. Like I said I think the arcade is what infected them. And I believe the Arcade Eclipse is this black orange and red coloration. Because Vanny was basically trying to pull out that Jack o Moon. Mimicking their face in order to not only control, but also unleash. Because Jack add sort of been offline in a weird fashion. Buried but there.

And then you have the main storyline of security breach. Yada yada yada. Sun is completely burnt out. Mostly because he's just out all the time. Jack disguised by moon. His programming either jumbled up as fuck, or thrown out of proportion due to the Vanny virus. Basically becomes the crazed moon we all know. Absolutely out there to scare the shit out of you, and because of the virus. Kill you. The nice moon coding and the eclipse coding. Both of those are sort of merged, lost, and scrambled. Only showing up after the reset. The reset resetting it to what fazco had first intended. With this nice cuddly moon, sweet happy sun, and a jack that is buried because he is too terrifying. This moon taking on eclipses name because he just doesn't know who he is anymore, And it's kind of the only available other name.

And that's kind of how I see the security breach timeline. A bunch of theories put together, along with just wanting a certain Head Cannon. To put it in simple form.

Jack came first.

Jack was lost to time.

Jack was found and rebranded as a sun and moon (Eclipse)

Eclipse is put into the theater.

Sun and Moon are technically eclipse until Jack starts to pop up and he starts to separate.

The nice moon code is infected by Jack. Making them evil.

The arcade is what infects them with the virus. Looking like a spooky jack-o'-Eclipse to draw out Jack.

The virus seals the separation, and makes it so it's only this jackified moon.

Throwing nice moon and whatever personality eclipse had into disarray.

Sun gets tired because he's doing all the work.

With the reboot. The nice moon comes back out but takes the name Eclipse, as the only other thing he can take as a name. (Also probably coding confusion)

And yeah that's the bullet points. My daycare attendant history.

[sussusamogus47]

I just wanted to call to attention the board games in the final puzzle room, bc I haven't really seen anyone talk about them all that much.

I genuinely can't tell if they were all deliberately chosen for what they are, or if instead it was a case of what the set designers (of Genloss, not Showfall) could get their hands on, but the relative obscurity/odd choice of games makes me think that for the most part it was deliberate.

Lemme explain, starting with the most interesting one first.

Game One: My 2 Homes

This game is most notable because it's the one boardgame that Ranboo actually calls out by name, and one of two (if i remember right) that they ever interact with. What's clever though is how it could easily be written off -- Jerma asks the three of them for examples of things in the room, and he provides one. End of story right?

But consider first that the mind control over them has been getting stronger and stronger, and the past few rooms we've been seeing them become more NPC-like, interacting with things less and less, taking less of an interest in other things.

What makes it more interesting in my opinion though, is the fact that the game is meant to help children "communicate and process their feelings about divorce".

What does this mean though?

Well, looking at the verb definitions of divorce, there's two ways it can be taken:

You could make an argument for the first definition, sure. But just look at that second definition. Separate or dissociate something from something else. Aka Ranboo and reality.

Suddenly Ranboo's calling out of the game looks more like a call for help. To use the game for its intended purpose and say "I'm still here, please help me. I don't want this to continue."

I could be stretching here. But the subtly of it is really good, and imo wouldn't be out of place.

Game Two: Maul of America

The pun in this one is actually what made me notice the oddity of some of the choices of these board games. For those who mightn't know, the Mall of America is one of the largest malls in the United States.

The premise of this game is simple: You're in a mall during the zombie apocalypse, and have to fight your way out. One player controls all of the zombies, and each other player controls themselves, obviously.

The parallels here alone are honestly astounding lol

But wait, there's more!! Upon rewatching this entire section, I believe this is the only other board game that Ranboo ever interacts with. Even more interestingly, I believe this might be the only game in the room that has its pieces outside of the box and partially set up.

For reference:

Here's an image of the board + some of the pieces, courtesy of boardgamegeek.com

And here's the closest, best shot I could get of the board:

Notice the standing pieces, the flipped over ones, and their positions relative to one another. Red is flipped, blue and orange are standing up. One zombie is standing, the rest are flipped. Blue is by red, and orange is by a zombie.

Now I'm sure you know, but for Dramatic Effect ™ I'd like to point out the primary colours of each person's outfit in this room:

Red

Blue

Orange

So then, Ranboo, Sneeg, and Austin are obviously intended to be the players here, with either Showfall (or the founder) controlling the zombies. Sneeg's blue token is likely closer to Ran's red one to indicate that they know each other, which supports some of the other theories around that.

But then why's Ranboo's token flipped? And what's with the zombie?

Well this is where we pull into Speculation Station, because I'm honestly not too sure. I'd like to say that the flipped token indicates Ranboo's mind controlled state, but then why isn't Sneeg's flipped too? After all, we all saw him get forcefully controlled by the Showfall Crew. My only other guess is that it hints at the ending, where somehow Austin and Sneeg survive and escape Showfall where Ranboo doesn't, but I feel like that's shaky at best so idrk.

Similar problems occur with the zombie, too. You could say it's Ranboo being mind controlled by the zombie player, but then Sneeg should have one too if that's the case. It can't really be Jerma bc he's well, dead by this point. It could maybe be the camera operator? But we also see the rats behind the curtain so wouldn't they have one too?

I really don't know honestly. But I've been going on about this one for a while lol so I should probably move on.

Game Three: Anti-Monopoly

This one is basically what it says on the tin: Anti-Monopoly, or a trust busting game where players have to go around dismantling large corporations. Depending on the size of the company, (oligopoly, trust, or monopoly) you need one to three tokens respectively to take them down.

I'd imagine that Showfall is a pretty large corporation, so my guess is that the symbolism here is meant to be Hetch's (or even Ranboo's) intention to dismantle the company. If the former, it could maybe mean that Hetch isn't here to actually help Ranboo, but is instead using him for in order to dismantle Showfall, which would be a twist for sure.

Game Four: Twister Moves

This seems like a version of Twister with maybe a musical chair-esque aspect to it. Someone plays as the DJ and plays music, and calls out moves to the other players.

If I had to guess, this is meant to symbolize Showfall's control over people, and how they tell them what to do.

Miscellaneous Games

These ones I don't really have much (or anything) for, honestly. I'm mostly putting them here in case anyone has any ideas, or in case they're somehow relevant.

I also have to stop adding images unfortunately bc I've hit the app's limit :(

Battleground: Crossbows and Catapults

Interestingly enough I had this as a kid lol. Used to play with just the lil plastic castles and guys a lot, not really playing the game. Anyway, the premise is you use the rubber-band powered disc launchers on top of the castles to knock down the other team's guys. Apparently hitting their flag gets you bonus lives or something, so maybe that's relevant?

Star Wars 100 Piece Puzzle (1996)

I.. actually really doubt this one's relevant. It seems a bit too mainstream for it to be, and it's also a puzzle. The date could maybe be relevant? Piece count? Or somehow the characters on it (Luke, Leia, Vader) are, but I just can't think of anything that'd work here, so my best guess is it's a red herring.

Classico (??)

I literally couldn't find anything on this one that matched the box, so I'm at a total loss.

Closing Remarks

Well, I hope that was all comprehendable :D I spent the past two hours or so putting it all together, and honestly in the process of doing so found wayy more to it than I initially thought.

And with that, I bid you adieu!

[pumpumdemsugah]

I think where at this point where everyone needs to stop being so deeply dishonest about Black womanhood and transphobia because it doesn't seem anything we experience is an expression of racism or misogyny but people trying to force solidarity without understanding what they're talking about and ending up causing problems like furthering the historical problem of racism and misogyny not being seen as something Black women experience or when we experience it, it's distraction from actual racism and sexism ( how black men and white women experience sexism and race )

Black womanhood being seen as the opposite of white beauty and femininity isn't transphobia but the legacy of slavery, we had to be the opposite of whiteness to justify us being made for slavery. People don't talk about the masculisation of black women as something done to abuse and rape but as a biological fact of our bodies and this vague expression of transphobia because you want it to mirror the issues around transphobia and ends up doing race science when you talk about Black women's bodies.

Now people are pretending Black women as a group have interchangeable issues as trans women. My body is hypersexualised and desexualised, people do not question my gender. A big chunk of why people talk about Megan the stallion that way is because a stallion is a male horse and people love to ask questions about beautiful women they think is disrespectful, her being a tall thick Black woman makes reaching for disrespect more natural.

Being masculinised to be abused or treated harshly ( the way Megan is treated ) isn't transphobia that's racism. Something very similar happens to Black men because they are Black. Blackness is seen as rough, animalistic and masculine because of slavery.

Why am I being encouraged to internalised something that isn't my issue ? Why encourage Othering Black womanhood more? That's not how you build authentic solidarity.

Men can say I'm not treated like a man and we understand he's talking about gender roles but everyone is pretending for Black women we're not expressing the same fucking thing ? So now white trans women regularly overstep when talking about Black women like we're best buds. There's a reason some Black women are doing on a Femininity journey and not a gender one. The issue is the perception of femininity ( and internalising racist stereotypes), it's not searching for a new gender identity. These women are not confused about being women but they want to swap misogynior with the sexist experiences wealthy typically white women by embodying what they see as a Femininity that will allow them to move up social class and get married . It's very much a class issue and the legacy of slavery but some of you are very very liberal with what you mean by gender to the point of obscuring the main issue

If you lot keep talking about Black women in this way you're going to lose them and with the uptick in Black femininity, you are ( I've seen many of those women point to this as why they're disenchanted with this discussion )because sure, maybe for some there's an issue of hatred but fundamentally you're not actually talking about them or our history anymore. People do not like being talked past , even if they can't express why. Someone knows what they have experienced

When femininity is linked to softness or protection and Black women have such a high femicide, rape and domestic violence figures, some will come to the conclusion they need to embody a femininity that will save them from the brutality of black womanhood. At its core, these women do not want to be hurt anymore. They want to be seen as valuable.

[johaerys-writes]

Hi! I’m pretty new to the world of Achilles and Patroclus (I read The Song Of Achilles last month) and I just saw your post about your love for them. When you said “there's just so much stuff out there about them (tsoa, hades game, the iliad, a bunch of other myths and adaptations, non fiction books, academic papers etc)” I was wondering if you could touch on the other myths and adaptations part maybe? I’m not exactly sure where to begin there but I would appreciate any guidance you could give!

Oh boy I don't know where to start either because there's a LOT. I don't want to overwhelm you so I'll just list a few key myths and adaptations off the top of my head:

Adaptations

So as far as adaptations go, I will include works where both Achilles and Patroclus show up and that are inspired by the Iliad.

Hades Game: I'm pretty sure you're already familiar with this, just mentioning it just in case!

Aristos the musical: it's a musical as the name suggests, and it revolves around Achilles and Patroclus' lives from Pelion all the way to Troy. It's really lovely and has made me emotional on numerous occasions and I love revisiting it every so often! It also has a Tumblr account: @aristosmusical

Troilus and Cressida: this is Shakespeare's take on the Trojan War and it's quite interesting, not really faithful to the Iliad but offers a sort of different perspective on the characters and the events that led to Hector's death.

Achilles (1995) by Barry JC Purves: it's a short stop motion film using clay puppets, it's on Youtube and it's only 11 mins and I think it's worth a watch! I find it very compelling visually and any adaptation where Achilles and Patroclus are lovers is a plus in my book 🫶

Holding Achilles: this is an Australian stage production by the Dead Puppet Society, I really enjoyed it and I found it an interesting blend of TSOA and Iliad Patrochilles, which also featured some cool new elements that I hadn't really seen before. It used to be free to watch for a while but now I think you have to pay to watch it, there's more info on their website.

The Silence of the Girls: a novel by Pat Barker, it's a take on the events of the Iliad mostly through Briseis' eyes, I personally didn't really like the book or the characterisations but hey both Achilles and Patroclus are in it so it might be worth a read.

There are some other novels I've heard of where Achilles and Patroclus appear (A Thousand Ships by Natalie Haynes, Wrath Goddess Sing by Maya Deane) and also a TV show called Troy: Fall of a City but I haven't read/watched them so I can't really rec them

Myths

Most myths revolve around Achilles, there aren't that many with Patroclus I'm afraid, but here are some of my favourites:

Achilleid by Publius Papinius Statius: this is an epic poem about Achilles' stay on Skyros disguised as a girl and his involvement with Deidameia. It's interesting but I'd personally take the characterisations and events in it with a grain of salt because Romans were notorious for their unsympathetic portrayal of Greek Homeric heroes but it's still a cool thing that's out there and free to read online.

Iphigenia at Aulis: a tragedy by the ancient Greek playwright Euripides, it's basically the dramatised version of the myth of Iphigenia's sacrifice in Aulis which predates the Iliad, there are many obscure versions of this myth but Euripides' sort of updated version is my favourite, I will never shut up about this play!! Lots of a nuance and very interesting portrayals of Achilles, Agamemnon, Menelaus, Clytemnestra, Iphigenia and pretty much everyone in there, well worth a read.

Lost plays: there are several plays in which Achilles appears but that have been lost or survive only in fragments, but two of my favourites are Euripides' Telephus and Aeschylus' Myrmidons. Telephus takes place before the Trojan War, while the Greeks are on their way to Troy. I really like Achilles' characterisation in the fragments that remain and also the fact that he was already renowned for his knowledge of medicine and healing despite how young he was. The fragments that survive from Aeschylus' Myrmidons I think are fewer but the play was extremely popular at the time it was presented to the public and it sparked a lot of controversy re: Achilles and Patroclus' relationship and who tops/bottoms so I think that's kind of funny lol.

There are lots of other obscure little myths about Achilles that I've picked up by reading various books, papers and wiki posts on the matter and that are just too numerous to list here, but what I will mention and that I think concludes the myths section of this post pretty neatly is that the Iliad and the Odyssey are not the only works about the Trojan War that were written, merely the only works that survived. The rest of the books in the Epic Cycle have been preserved either in fragmentary form or in descriptions in other works, and I think the Epic Cycle wiki page is a good place to start if you want to get an idea of what each of those books contained.

I hope this helped! 💙

[lakesbian]

okay, so, interlude four. purity's interlude. we have already discussed at length the Bad parts of how nazis are written in worm (there are many), but to reiterate so i can get back to poking the undersiders w/ sticks:

item one: there is nothing inherently wrong with narratives providing nazis with rich internal worlds or complex emotions or even sympathetic experiences--every terrible person is ultimately still a person, and insistence on viewing fascists as monsters rather than as people only serves to obscure how fascist ideals spread & prevent open acknowledgement of harm done by people one already sympathizes with too much to view as inhuman. it is in fact one of worm's greatest strengths that, as summarized in the iconic "when you get to the stabby mcmurderclown interlude and now you have to sympathize with stabby mcmurderclown" meme, the text grasps that even unpleasant or downright horrible people are still People--and treats their histories and mindsets as worthy of examination rather than dehumanizing anyone past a certain standard of behavior.

BUT.

the text repeatedly dehumanizes and spits upon highly marginalized groups, e.g. portraying addicts as intrinsically disgusting, predatory, violent, and stupid (& of course associating all of this with blackness), portraying black girls as predatory, animalistic, and sexualized, portraying chinese people as a monolithic brainwashed cult, et cetera. and in light of this, it is extremely insensitive and grating that the book spends so much time on carefully granting character depth to violent white supremacists. the fascists are very clearly being considered worthy of more sympathy than many of the very groups they target! sucks! the "it's cool to examine the psyches of horrible people" thing stops applying when that close examination is applied in a clearly biased manner!

item two: the constant willingness characters have to work with nazis "for the greater good" or casually tolerant their presence--even when it is wildly uncharacteristic for the characters in question--indicates that the author is clearly viewing tolerance for nazis as an acceptable norm. to be clear, it is, in many circumstances, a norm. "normal" is not the same as "moral," and it's actually extremely common for deeply unethical things to be completely normal in a society. the issue here is that this norm is not being interrogated in the same way the book interrogates other norms it considers problematic (e.g. the school system's approach to bullying); we see none of the human impact or harm caused by any of the characters' tolerance for the nazis, and it happens regardless of whether or not the character would actually react that way. the flippancy regarding the severity of nazism is portrayed as a completely mundane and understandable action taken "for the greater good," with no regard as to how it would impact any of the scant few characters of color. (many of whom are actively portrayed as worse than the nazis for being "less civilized.")

item three: many of the things the nazis say and believe, such as this line from purity--

Sure, the whites had criminals too, but at least they were fucking civilized about it.

--are clearly supposed to be taken as Bad and Wrong when the nazi is saying them, but then are actually reaffirmed by how the text depicts marginalized people. again: characters of color being actively portrayed as worse than the nazis for being "less civilized," e.g. skidmark being portrayed as filthy and stupid and predatory in contrast to kaiser's ability to act refined/respectable. worm understands that nazis are Bad and we're supposed to disapprove of their ideologies, but the author demonstrably doesn't understand why their beliefs are incorrect, so many of those same viewpoints crop up unexamined in the rest of worm's writing.

and there's maybe some other issues i'm forgetting about, but i think that summarizes the Main Deal. back to finishing my read of interlude 4, which i have very little to say about because it is not very interesting or good

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Brotherly Love Part 4/6

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

It's going down in this chapter

18+

Summary - The sequel to The Houseguest where Ruben and Reader have been dating long distance for a year. The two of them finally plans to spend a holiday together, but to Readers suprise and disappointment, Ruben brings her brother Bernardo with them.

Enjoy!

Things didn't quite go as planned for you. It only felt right to give Ruben your room since you were the one who broke up with him. But you were less than thrilled at the prospect of sleeping in a glorified garden shed. That's right, you were back in the pool house, obscured from the rest of your family, officially the odd man out. And after your little outburst at your parents anniversary party, things would often quiet down when you came in the house for breakfast.

"You're up?" Your mom said, the only one who bothered to acknowledge your presence. She was joined around the table by Anita.

"Where's dad...and Thomas?" You asked.

"Oh. Well the boys went to the marina."

"The marina, this early? Why?"

"Ruben's uncle is letting them borrow his boat again, for fishing." Said Anita. "Mom and I wanted to join them but we remembered how seasick you got the last time."

"Gee..." You sighed. "Don't let me ruin all the fun."

"Well, it's kind of your thing now, isn't it?" She smirked.

"Don't worry honey." Your mom placed a comforting hand on your thigh as you sat down to have breakfast. "Your sister and I were thinking that the three of us could have a lovely day at the beach. It's a perfect day for it, no?"

It was a perfect day for it. Too bad that on a day like this the beach in Portimão was overflowing with people. You, your mom and Anita struggled to find three tanning beds next to each other.

"Don't worry." You said, as they manage to find two tanning beds next to each other. "I'm going swimming anyway."

"Works for me." Anita shrugged.

She was quick to throw herself onto her back, her skin glisterig in the sun. Your mom urged you to put on sunscreen too as you left the two of them on your way to the water. The sand was warm underneath your bare feet, like hot liquid melting between your toes. You stopped at the shoreline, just where the crystal water snubbed your feet.

"You need help with that?"

"Victor?"

It was the man from the fishmarket, appearing beside you. He was taller than you rembered, his brown hair dripping with water.

"Do you need help putting sunscreen on your back?" He smiled, his teeth white in the sun.

"Um, sure." You said, handing him the bottle. He got behind you and started massaging the cream onto your shoulders, his hands moving down your naked back.

"I thought you worked at the market?" You said.

"Not everyday." He chuckled.

"No?"

As he applied more sunscreen, your hands brushed together. You couldn't help but notice how strong and gentle his touch was. This left a sense of loss once he stopped.

"Thanks," you said, turning to look at him.

"Don't mention it."

He handed you back the bottle.

"Do you want me to do you?" You offered.

"Save some for your boyfriend." He winked.

"I actually don't have a boyfriend anymore. Ruben and I broke up."

Victor raised a curious brow.

You smiled. "How about that sunscreen?"

The two of you started talking after that. You learned that Victor was visiting from out of town and was an avid kitesurfer. During the summer he would work at the market with his family and practice his kitesurfing in between. His passion for the sport was infectious and soon you found yourself wanting to try it too. But there was one problem, you got seasick easily. Despite this fact, you waded out in the water, letting Victor heave you up on his board.

"Don't worry, I promise you'll love it once you get the hang of it."  He leand in, cradling your body with his. "I'll be right here with you, okay?"

"Okay."

You were confident in the beginning but as soon as the first wave hit, you realized your mistake.

"I can't do this." You cried.

"Sure you can."

The kite blew in the wind causing the board to drift further out in the sea.

"Please Victor, take me back."

"You can do it. Just hang tight." He said, the adrenaline fueling him.

The waves slapped against the surfboard, the ride bumpy and hard to balance with your feet.

"Please, I don't feel so good."

You felt nauseous and dizzy, one gust of wind away from passing out.

"Come on, just relax. It's fun."

"No, please. I really feel sick.

Victor tried turning the kite around but the wind wouldn't budge.

"We'll have to ride it out." He said. But you saw no other option than to throw yourself into the water, head first.

"Y/N!"

You wore a lifejacket but with the blowing wind the waves were hard to swim against.

"Y/N, you have to get back to my board!" Victor had trouble getting to you because of the kite. He circled around you, trying to reach for your hand. However you started to panic with the waves, really fearing for your life. In the corner of your eye you saw it, a boat. Victor had to get out of the way for them to get to you.

"Y/N?"

"Get her on board!"

Your eyes were shut as the salt water irritated them. You felt a tug on your lifejacket and before you knew it you were out of the water and on board the boat, Ruben's uncles boat.

"Pai!"

What a relief, seeing your dad, Bernardo, Ruben and Thomas. They all looked equally shocked to see you. Perhaps they thought to have rescued a stranger.

You ran into your dads safe embrace.

"What were you doing so far out in the water?" Bernardo asked.

"I was..."

"Y/N?"

It was Victor with his kite. He tied it to the board as he jumped on the boat. "I swear I didn't mean to..." He didn't get far though, before Ruben stepped up, preventing him from coming any closer to you.

"No, Ruben it's okay." You said, however he was unresponsive, like a bull seeing red.

"Hey man. I'm only here to apologize."

"Apologize to someone else." Ruben grunted.

"Wow." Thomas appeared between them, restraining Ruben.

"I just wanted to see if she's okay." Victor pleaded. He fell back two steps as Ruben pushed him with force.

"She'll be fine once you leave her alone."

"Ruben stop!" You cried.

Victor had enough of Ruben, ready to fight him. But your dad and Bernardo jumped in, helping Thomas usher Victor off the boat. Things calmed down after that. The boat was brought into land and you were saftley reunited with your mother and sister whom, of course, had no clue of what had happned to you. Coming home was a relief. This holiday couldn't get anymore miserable for you.

As night fell and the rest of the family settled into their cozy rooms, you made your way to the pool house, feeling a bit miffed at being relegated to what felt like a separate entity from the main house. However, falling back on the bed you felt the peace of being alone. Perhaps that's what you were meant to be. Alone.

"Y/N?"

You sat up in bed. Somone was at your door.

"Ruben?"

He stood by, hands in his pockets, the light from the swimming pool illuminating his face.

"I just wanted to see how you were holding up?"

You smiled softly. "A little dizzy, but I'll be okay."

Ruben nodded understandingly. He looked shy standing before you like this. "I also wanted to apologize for my behavior on the boat."

You frowned. "Ruben, there is no need for you to apologize. It was my fault. I got myself into a stupid situation, I should have known better."

Ruben shook his head. "Nah, that guy was a dickhead. I could tell. Bernardo says he knows him from around the way. Some kind of lame hippie."

You chuckled.

Ruben's brows furrowed "What's funny?"

"I've never heard you say that before."

"Say what?"

"Dickhead or hippie."

A smile shaped his lips. "Guess there's a first for everything."

"I kind of liked it though."

"What, me calling that guy a dickhead?"

You shook your head.

"What then?"

The gap between you closed, with Ruben towering over you. Your attraction for him was as clear as day. It should be illegal for people who've just broken up to be this close to each other during their first days of separation.

"I liked the way you fought for me." You whispered.

"Y/N." Ruben shoulders dropped. His hands came out if his pockets to draw you in at the hips. "Of course I'll fight for you, I'll always fight for you."

"Not like that."

"No? How about like this."

Ruben's lips attacked your neck.

You gasped.

His strong arms backed you into the pool house, the both of you falling back against your bed. His mouth was all over the place, so was his hands, groping you and clawing down the  cleavage of your shirt to get to your breasts.

"Ruben please."

He grunted, mouth full. He sucked you dry, your nipples hard and errect.

"Fuck me."

A hand went down your pants, his touch rough but not violent.

"Yes, right there."

Despite your time apart he knew his way around you, which buttons to caress to turn you on.

"Lick me." You begged.

His mouth had moved on from your breast, his head now steady between your legs. You wore a skirt and so he pulled your underwear along with it.

"Mine." He groaned.

The rough sense of his beard against you inner thigh sent shivers down your arching back. You grabbed a bundle of his hair, pulling him towards your cunt. You were so impatient for him but did not give a fuck. You had waited a whole holiday day for this. Correction, you waited a whole year for Ruben to fuck you senseless.

He didn't let you come with his mouth, in a way, saving you for later. He made you turn around and lay flat on the bed, your ass arched upwards for him.

"I don't have a condom so you're taking me like this." It wasn't a question but an order.

Whilst he fucked you from the back his hands sought out to please you from the front. Your face had to be pressed down against the pillows as your cries of pleasure sounded sinister to any one who heard it. It was barbaric but not passionless. The rumble between you was raw yet tender, leaving both of you drained underneath the wooden roof of the pool house. As the sexdrive came down Ruben held you close, letting his heavy breathing falter with yours.

"I meant what I said."

"What did you say?" He asked, gently stroking your lips with his thumb.

"It's either me or my brother."

"Y/N."

You sat up, not caring if you were killing the mood. "Me or Bernardo, Ruben."

He sat up too. No, Ruben got up and out of bed, searching for his shirt, ready to get dressed.

"You know I can't make that choice Y/N. Bernardo needs me right now."

"And I don't?"

He paused.

It was quite unfair of you, making him choose. You could see it in his face, how he hated you for it.

"Fuck, Y/N. You have me. Why is it that so hard for you to understand that you have me, all of me. You're on my mind all the time."

"But not in your heart, right?"

Ruben shook his head in disbelief. "The fact that you believe that says more about your feelings for me than my feelings for you."

With that he was gone, out of the door and out of the pool house. Possibly out of your life.