#and it fits in perfectly with this discussion of fate

[fictionadventurer]

Thinking about fate in Beowulf and Lord of the Rings. How it involves taking a pagan concept of fate and applying Christianity to it. You're not a slave to a cruel and merciless universe, but your fate is still outside of your control. Your fate is now in the hands of an all-knowing, all powerful God. And knowing that, you still have to make good choices.

So now, sometimes you meet your fate, not because you can't see it coming, or because you can't escape it, but because you have to choose it. You know this course of action will lead to your death, but you can make no other choice--morality, virtue, honor, decency, dignity, and God all say that you have a duty to do the right thing, no matter what it costs you. You have to meet your fate with your eyes wide open, understanding that no man can live forever, but you can live as God wants you to live, and trust that you'll die when it's your proper time.

And this leaves open the door for hope. Instead of the tragedy of trying to escape fate and failing, the story can be about submitting to fate and being saved. Not always. Sometimes the story is that you meet your fate, but you died doing the right thing. But sometimes, refusing to take the selfish action, refusing to run means that something beyond the expectations of human reality can intervene and save you. Either way, you end the story as a hero, instead of as a victim or a villain.

[shiny-jr]

from POMEFIORE

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader. 

- Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Epel Felmier.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: Hoping its not too out of character.

Ignihyde   |   Pomefiore   |   Scarabia

Perfume. The carefully sealed envelope reeked of it, like the sweet smell of lavender with spice. The envelope containing the message looked like something you would find when getting an invitation to a ball or a wedding. The envelope was pristine, and the wax sealing it was done so perfectly without a single awkward edge.

It almost looked unnatural with how perfect it appeared. The thick beige parchment was cut evenly, and not a blot of ink strayed from the elegantly curved cursive words that looked like ribbons upon the page. Looks could be deceiving. It was beautiful, but as you might've already guessed, the interior didn't entirely match what was hidden beneath the surface.

To my darling player,

I am at fault and take full responsibility for my actions.

All I've ever wished for, was to admire you. You are the epitome of magnificence, divinity that I can only dream to one day achieve but knowing I will never truly reach. There's an otherworldly sort of allure to you, which drew me in far too close. Much like the man who enhanced himself with wings of wax, but flew too close to the sun so his wings melted and he met a terrible fate. You are the sun, and I was that reckless fool with fake wings.

I allowed myself to get too close, tainting your light with my imperfect presence. Your grace was the warm sunlight on my skin, when everything around me was a horrible darkness. To think, I attempted to put out that light. It was nearly diminished. For that, I should be burned. I'm sorry, so so sorry.

I've thought long and hard on what I could possibly say to you, what sort of response could be adequate enough considering what you mean to me and the delicate situation. It didn't take long for me to arrive to the answer: no response is fitting. It doesn't matter if I pen a letter long enough to rival the river of tears I shed, coat the envelope in gold and ink of silver, with a message that would have moved the seven themselves to weep. It does not change the betrayal that occurred. I betrayed the trust you gave me, and shattered it into millions of pieces. However, know that I'll be on my hands and knees piecing it back together again, even if the shards cause me to bleed, you are worth it.

The stabbing sensation on my skin would be nothing compared to the one in my heart that I feel when I consider the fact that you might despise me. There's nothing more I would want than to see your face, hold your hands and feel the warmth of your skin that's so unlike the coldness of your vessel. Requesting a meeting would be imperious, as I have no right to ask you of this. But if I could, I would love to see you and discuss what comes next, perhaps over lunch. This is just a thought, a wish of mine, but one you are not required to fulfill.

I'd love to believe that I know you and your vessel better than anyone else could even dream of understanding, but I know that is far from the truth. Even as I pampered and polished your precious doll, your secrets continue to escape me. Did you ever hear me, when I brushed and washed Yuu's hair? When I took their freezing cold hands and painted their nails? When kneeled down in front of them to polish their shoes? When I adorned the best luxuries of brand accessories on their body?

I would kneel down to no one else.

There was always this wish, a dream of mine, that one day I might perhaps one day get to pamper you. Not Yuu. But you. Is that a scandalous desire?

Your hands would be warm, and I would hold them as I file your nails. Your arm wouldn't be so rigid and mechanical, you could actually extend it as I slather a creamy scented lotion along your skin. And if you do desired, I could lift your head and apply lipstick to your lips... This is just the process I commonly used while your vessel was under my care.

Although, I would gladly take up the responsibility of nursing you back to health, or any other role you would give me. There are countless things I can accomplish for you. I commonly deal in potent poisons, but I can just as well deal in healing and comforting. I'm skilled in self-defense and various forms of magic, so I can be your companion to protect you from everything that would wish you harm. You know of my business in acting and singing, so even if you wanted nothing else I could be there to entertain or serenade you. I only wish to be with you again, even though I know I'm underserving. I'm selfish.

If you want nothing more, then I have to be satisfied knowing I was in your thoughts for a brief moment. A twisted part of me wants your mind to be plagued by thoughts of me, just as my mind and heart is full of you.

I have to remind myself, that by getting too close I risk being burnt. But, at this point, I do not care for my own safety. I only care for yours, and I do this to keep my sanity. I truly admire you so much, that I cannot adore you from afar behind a rope like sculpture in a museum. I have to stand nearby, inspect your beauty, polish you to a shine, and value you like the priceless treasure that you are. Should someone threaten to chip off even the slightest speck on you, forcing you through more suffering...

I will shatter them into a million pieces, to preserve your peace.

Yours,

Vil Schoenheit

The wonderful aromatic smell that filled your nose brought back some not so pleasant memories. The smell of the earth beneath your feet, the scent of dew collected on every still surface, but above all were fragrant tangs that immediately alerted you to any nearby presence of a student belonging to Pomefiore.

They had chased you through those deep dark woods, like a pack of rabid hounds tracking and hunting a poor wounded rabbit. Besides their shouts and footfall, their perfume gave them away. There was one in particular which you only caught a whiff of only when you had too closely encountered the dormleader. The scent of lavender and spice hit your nose, the same fragrance on the letter.

"That reeks! Burn it!" A certain feline hissed, covering his little black nose with his paws. You swore the fragrance was beginning to form a migraine at the front of your skull. If the smell was strong for you, it must've been much worse for Grim since he had a superior sense of smell.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if the smell wasn't that strong and it wasn't the particular scent. Like vanilla or freshly baked bread. If that were the case, Grim might've insisted on keeping it or even be tempted to take a bite out of the sheet.

But it was lavender and spice. So the letter was tossed into a corner several feet away, left to an unknown fate that you would ultimately decide later. When you glanced back to Grim, you saw him holding and sniffing another letter.

For a long moment his sniffed the rolled up paper, his black nose twitching as he was likely just searching for another gift to claim as a snack. After a few seconds, he discarded it, sliding it over to you before he opted to dig through the pile like a raccoon digging into a heap of trash. "Meh, this one smells boring."

"Boring, huh?"

Boring wouldn't exactly be your choice of adjectives to describe this letter. It wasn't an envelope, it was a scroll tied by ribbon, attached to an arrow. An arrow, of all things, was likely the messenger for this message. Thankfully, this one didn't smell of anything. Even without a fragrance to match to a profile, the arrow was a dead giveaway.

Opening it up and using your hands to smooth out the curled edges, you blatantly ignored the wax seal over the ribbon. Once it was fully unsealed, a few single flower petals drifted down from the paper. Just another mess you would sweep up later and decide whether to dispose of it or not, like the first letter from the dormleader. For this one you were a pinch anxious. The sender was not like the others who came before.

Trickster,

It relieves me to see that you are finally safe.

To see you rest and heal in tranquility, nothing steadies my anxiously beating heart more than knowing you are sheltered. Well guarded by a trio of ghosts and the courageous feline Grim, I have no need to stress over your wellbeing with them acting as your valiant knights in shining armor! Although, I would also wish to join their ranks, blessed by your grace and fit to serve as your shield. However...

I am conscious enough to know that I am nowhere near fitting, no matter how much I may wish to reach out and shield you from every evil. In that most vital moment, I had failed to recognize you. I may have spared you from the sharpness of my blade, but I couldn't have guarded you from the suffering that was to come afterwards.

I'm so deeply and truly sorry. Many sleepless nights have followed, since and even before our first fateful encounter in those woods of the Pomefiore estate. Before our encounter, I was conflicted. I wanted to detest you, but I could not, I thought there must be a reason this was all occurring. I couldn't slumber peacefully, so long as I knew there was turbulence surrounding your beloved vessel. After our encounter, I couldn't get the vision of you fragile, frightened, and wounded, out of my mind. Raising a blade against you, who were a stranger shrouded in infamy, made my very heart stop.

Now I know why I was so unexplainably drawn to you. It was not due to the wild frenzy that overtook the entire campus, or a burning hatred to destroy, or even my own desire to discover answers I desperately wanted, although that last one may have played a role. The reason as to I was so enticed by you, a cunning 'imposter,' was because my heart recognized you. It must have been my very soul that pulled me towards you, and perhaps my own nature as well. My body recognized you, my heart and my soul led me to you, but I was blinded by my sorrows.

Throughout the few years I've had on this wonderful earth, I've seen countless peoples, and you are unlike any of which I've seen. In the places I've been, I have witnessed poetry be written by masters of literacy, melodies sung by the most angelic voices ever heard on a stage, and devoted worshippers in holy places kneel in solemn prayer. Somehow you as a single being, or entity, encompass all those elements into one. My aim is to admire beauty, and I see beauty in its finest form when I look at you.

I truly understand what you mean to me, and to others.

But at the same time, you remain a mystery. And I believe I'm speaking for all those who admire you when I say this. We could only dream of truly understanding you, when we only had Yuu.

So, I try to make sense of it all in what I do understand, in the beautiful things I adore that I associate with you who I cherish. In literature, music, photography, I see you in everything all at once. When I read poetic lines, I think I could share it with you. When I hear beautiful music, I imagine you might enjoy listening to the tune too. When I discover stunning sceneries, I plan to bring you there someday to share a moment with you.

Now, I can make sense of it. I understand how the poets of old felt as they penned the love and awe they felt towards the Fairest Queen. It's a rare sentiment that cannot easily be put into words, a feeling as if it held my delicate heart and squeezed when I so much as thought of you. When a song and its composer can bring an audience to tears, I understand that now too. Hearing your voice for the first time, formed a knot in my throat that prevented me from saying much. Catching that first glimpse of you, was like gazing at a perfect painted portrait hanging in a museum.

My dearest player, I am a Hunt. I am naturally inquisitive by nature, and my fondness for you comes just as naturally. You may consider it wrong, but I will continue to offer my loyalty even if you may not accept it.

My aim is to one day unlock your secrets, solve your mysteries, and understand you fully, learn what makes you tick and what drives you forward. Perhaps when the day comes when you've forgiven me for my crimes, I can proudly stand in your presence and recite the poems I have written in your name. I could admire you everyday from then on, and remind you everyday of your worth. Then, I will protect you, from all harm, and I will not allow myself to fail you once again. This is a promise.

Should you need me, I will be there.

Yours,

Rook Hunt

There was something that felt... off. Compared to some of the previous letters, these were rather tame. Of course, there was the desperation and fascination evident in their words captured by the ink, but it was nowhere near as extreme as other cases.

Although, it was still chilling, to read the thoughts they penned.

In your hand you held the arrow the letter had been connected to, feeling its thin shape and the sharpened head at its tip that nearly pricked your finger. The vice dormleader had excellent aim, and had he not been so kind, arrows like this one in your hand could've easily been driven through your flesh and caught you against a tree where you would've been helpless in their grasps.

And yet, despite the opportunities he had, he didn't let a single weapon touch you. All it would take was one arrow, one moment and he could've ended you where you stood. But he spared you. However, there's the lingering doubt that maybe the primary reason he did it was he hoped you had answers to the malfunctioning vessel. You couldn't be sure exactly why he spared you, when everyone had wanted to torment and imprison you or worse.

Beside you, there's a large crunch and a content purr. When you look over, there's Grim, happily munching away on an apple he held with his little paws. He sank his fangs into the fruit, content that he finally found an offering that appeased him. In front of him was a small basket, filled with more juicy red apples.

"These are great! And, even though I was the one who found them, I'll let you have some!" Grim picked up another apple from the basket, sticking his claws into the red peel and offering it with his little grin. Nevermind the fact that these were probably meant as a gift for you and not for him, but you didn't mind. They would have likely ended up in the trash anyways, at least someone could enjoy them.

"You should really have one. You haven't eaten all day."

"I'm not hungry, but thanks. You can have them." Ever since everything happened, you weren't too keen on accepting gifts, especially if they were consumable. For now, the only places you'd accept food from, was the cafeteria you'd venture too at the dead of night when no one was there, or Sam's shop.

In the spot of the basket where Grim had removed the apple, there was a white layer at the bottom of the basket. Perplexed, you reached in and found an envelope hidden by the piled apples.

Unsurprisingly, the envelope smelled of sweet things, apples, cinnamon, and freshly baked pies. The envelope itself was nothing special, it had no intricate wax seal or marking. It was loosely sealed shut by a brown piece of string, and covered in some white and pink apples blossoms.

The inside was less impressive, more authentic, which was refreshing in a way. Smooth cursive flowed into slightly choppy print scrawled out in uneven lines, before eventually returning back to cursive at the end of some sentences. It appears parts were rushed judging by the blotted ink stains at multiple periods. The apples were a clue as to who the sender may be, but why would the letter be hidden in a gift?

Dear Player,

If you're reading this, that means my letter got through.

Where do I even start? It seems right that I first say sorry. I'm sorry. It sounds like a load of bull, but I am sorry. Apologizing in all these other ways, won't make this any better, so, I thought this might help. I'm gonna be completely honest with you, no lies, no tricks, just the blunt truth. I'm not going to be showing you these pretty sides I polished to impress and to mask all the ugly. I'll tell you everything that's been going on. That's something only I have the guts to do.

The reason I hid this letter was because Vil and Rook have been checking anything I want to write to you. They want to keep up this positive front, they wanna at least pretend to be perfect enough to be near you. At least, that's what I think. Although I know we won't ever come close to that.

Instead of trying to write a real and honest letter for you, it feels like I was writing some essay for Professor Trein to grade. I'd have to write and write, and even if the grammar was right, the message wasn't. They want to make you think everything's okay, when it's not. I can only imagine what elegant crap they were spewing in their own fancy letters, while we're actually all a mess. We've been like this since Yuu broke down. I try to understand them, and in a way I do, but sometimes they freak me out. Yeah, I got my own problems trying to comprehend all this chaos, but they're different.

Is everyone else in the other dorms this extreme? This miserable and on the verge of breaking? Maybe you won't believe me, or maybe you'll realize that there's some truth to what I'm saying. Here, in Pomefiore, I can only tell you what I've seen. These days, Rook's smile seems strained, like he's about to snap, his eyes are sharp and watchful. The only time his smile is normal is when he's looking at some photo, but he won't ever let me see what it is. Vil, well, the only sign he's still alive and kicking are the packages that come in for him, new makeup and all that stuff, things he's using to craft that perfect mask. I did see him one night out in the hall, I swear there was mascara down his face but I was too put off to approach when he was like that.

Don't ever tell them I told you all this. Vil would probably skin me alive and wear me as a robe, and Rook... I don't want to think about what he would do... I'm kidding by the way, but seriously, don't ever tell them. I told you I would be honest to you, so here's my reason. I thought that maybe telling you all this would score me points with you, get you to trust me again. Even if this is a rotten way to go about it, I don't care.

I am rotten, and I won't hide it like them.

If I can't even be honest with you, then do I really deserve a second chance at all?

Scratch that. I don't deserve a second chance at all after everything that happened. What I did was downright terrible, but I'm trying my damnedest to be deserving again. And I won't stop trying, even if part of me thinks it's useless. I never cared for Yuu, the only reason I acted for them was because it was you behind them. My goal is to eventually be beside you, the real you.

Although, a basket of apples is a crummy way to go about things, but think of it like a peace offering. Just cause I can't get word to you, don't mean I give up. I'm not giving up. Ever. Everyone's going about their own roundabout ways of mending things. If you want to hear more, I'll gladly tell you. I don't think anyone else would tell you the truth of what's happening, because in a sense everyone wants to appeal to you with the best image of themselves they can possible portray. Don't believe all the hogwash they send you. If whoever sends something and seems to be stable, they're not. Not completely.

I'm awfully ashamed to admit it, but I'm not okay. Not since everything started, and not since everything went to hell when shit hit the fan. I'm not okay without you, and I got myself to blame for that.

This letter is helping. The thought of communicating with you again, even if I can't see your face or hear your voice and its reduced to words on paper, it's more than I could ask for. So, if you want me to spill the beans, just ask. If not, if there's no response, well, I'll get a bit of comfort thinking you might've read this. Besides, I have hope with each attempt I'll make. I'm not just rottenly selfish, I'm stubborn to a fault. And if I have to knock down someone else's chances to get closer, then that's fine by me.

All you gotta do is talk to me.

Until then, hoping to speak to you soon,

Epel Felmier

[clevercorvidae]

Why Viktor from Arcane is WRONG About Evolution

Right so, I'm getting my degree in evolutionary biology and evolution as a subject is my absolute bread and butter, so I thought I'd give some insight into a particular line from Arcane and why it both infuriated me AND is also brilliant writing.

(Quick note: I'm not writing this to say the SHOW is wrong about evolution or that the writing is bad. The writing around this is actually amazing and I'll get into that. This IS NOT a critique.)

The line in question happens during episode 6 of season 2 of the show during a conversation between Singed and Viktor where Viktor states the following:

"Evolution has a destination, not to combat nature, but to supercede it. The final, glorious evolution."

Every single thing about this statement is disastrously incorrect. And when I first heard it, it took everything in me not to scream in frustration, but I think I get it now.

The rest of this essay will be me picking apart this quote piece by piece, both to explain WHY its incorrect, but also why that's not necessarily a bad thing.

"Evolution Has a Destination"

We'll start with his first assertion, that evolution has a destination. This is patently false on every level. Evolution occurs constantly, it never ceases.

This is actually a really, really common misconception when it comes to evolution. Many people see the explanation for natural selection, survival of the fittest, and assume that that means evolution is a constant trend of "improvement". There's an assumption that, as we continue to evolve, we become "better".

But that's NOT what "survival of the fittest" means (nor is natural selection the only mechanism of evolution but I digress). "Fitness" is not some overall objective best form, it has a VERY specific definition.

Fitness, when discussing evolutionary biology, refers to your ability to survive within your environment long enough to produce viable offspring. It doesn't mean "fastest" or "strongest", and it's incredibly circumstantial. Every species encounters DIFFERENT challenges based on the biotic (living) and abiotic (non-living) factors of their environment. These pressures are what define "fitness". It's different for all species.

And those pressures are NOT static either. Your environment changes. Plate tectonics shift, natural disasters occur, weather patterns change, other species evolve alongside you, your circumstances as a species will never remain stagnant. New challenges WILL befall you in your environment and you WILL have to evolve new adaptations for continued success.

Even if you tailored everything to perfection, eliminated all challenges, and somehow obtained infinite resources, EVEN THEN you cannot escape the finite resource of SPACE. Your population's density will grow and eventually you will run out of space, and you'd need to, once again, adapt.

(Now, there is a concept in ecology called "climax", where an ecosystem could theoretically perfectly balance itself and remain unchanged for a statistically long period of time, exiting the cycle of succession and in essence, slowing evolution to a crawl at best.

However, this is not only purely hypothetical and heavily debated, it also is not permanent. Even this "perfectly" balanced state of equilibrium cannot compete with the force that is geology and time. Even an ecosystem in climax would eventually be torn asunder by the changing climate and plate tectonics, not to mention neighboring ecosystems.)

There is no static environment and there is no static life, so it's impossible for there to be a "perfect" lifeform. There is no destination, there can't be.

"Not to Combat Nature"

This is Viktor's second statement, and it's... a very interesting choice of words.

Because this... is not actually in response to what Singed says about evolution. His statement is in response to what Viktor has to say about fate:

Viktor: Do you believe in fate, Doctor? Our paths, carved before us guided by... an invisible hand.

Singed: Not fate, evolution. Nature's greatest force, forever in flux.

Singed says he believes in THIS in place of a belief in fate. He doesn't see it as combating nature, but as a force of nature itself. Instead this is actually Viktor's own initial assumption and interpretation of evolution. That evolution combats nature. This is obviously false, and Singed is the one with the right idea.

Evolution is, in fact, a facit of nature itself, of life itself. It is an inseparable part of what defines life; the essence of something being organic in the first place. As I said before, all life evolves CONSTANTLY. We NEVER stop evolving. The results of evolution are often too slow for us to see within our lifetimes, but its still happening. As Singed says, we are "forever in flux".

But Viktor is arguing against something else entirely: that evolution combats nature, that it is an aggressive force, maybe even a destructive one.

Most importantly, to meet something in combat is to be on equal footing, presumably, a mutual struggle. Nature and evolution, equals in a battle that will never end, oscillating between perfection and flaw. This is Viktor's view of Singed's response and of evolution as it currently stands.

"But to Supercede It."

Viktor, however, does not see evolution and nature as equals. Instead, he sees the path of evolution as one that will overtake nature and surpass it. In Viktor's mind humanity is destined to break out of the chains of the organic concept of flaw itself.

But that's impossible, because evolution requires flaws in the first place.

I've talked about how there's no such thing as a perfect, ideal life form, and that alone squanders Viktor's idea of evolution. But it's not just his end goal that doesn't mesh with reality, but the very function of evolution itself.

Evolution relies on diversity. In order for a trait to be selected for or against it must first EXIST within the population. A trait cannot be selected for if the genes that encode for it aren't present, and what is the only way for new alleles come into existence? Mutation. Mistakes. You could even call them imperfections.

Everything that makes us human originated as an inconsistency in the process of DNA replication. We are a tapestry of imperfections, every single living organism on earth. If we didn't have diversity in our gene pools we would have never even become multicellular, we would not have been able to keep up with the changing world at all.

How can you supercede nature via evolution when its made us everything that we are BECAUSE of how messy and flawed nature is in the first place. It's a paradox.

Altogether, Viktor's idea of a destination is impossible, and the very foundations of evolution are built on imperfections. So you may ask yourself: Why does he even believe in this? Why does he say all of this despite being such an intelligent character? Surely he knows he's wrong, right?

"The Final, Glorious Evolution"

Viktor as a character is a lot of things. He's shown to be incredibly intelligent and hyper-competent. He wants to make the world a better place for people suffering because he himself suffered greatly. He's also a perfectionist.

When we first meet Viktor, we're introduced to him as the assistant to the dean of the academy who holds his head high and isn't afraid to be snarky with Jayce for blowing up his apartment. On a whim he chooses to help Jayce, to inspire him to risk it all for Hextech, to improve lives.

He stands with Jayce on the ledge saying no one ever believed in him, so instead he believed in himself. He appears to be incredibly confident.

But we see through the rest of season one that that confidence doesn't come from a place of genuine self love, it comes from security in his abilities. His self-worth is tied to his usefulness, to his impact on the world. Imperfections, in Viktor's eyes, are a mere hindrance.

Viktor isn't actually as confident in himself as he first appears. He postures himself with a lot of faith in what he's able to do, but when it comes to what he IS NOT able to do, he shrivels. He's a deeply insecure person. His disability and his status as a Zaunite have done little for him but hold him back. He thinks he needs fixing, that the undercity needs fixing, that humanity as a whole needs fixing.

So when the hexcore is manipulating him, of course it targets this view in him. Like Viktor, the hexcore wants to change the world to be in its image. It wants to replace all that is organic with that which is artificial, ideal. And so it sings the song of the glorious evolution to Viktor.

Imagine it, a world with no pain, no conflict, no struggle. No environmental pressures to contend with, because a perfect being cannot struggle, it can't make mistakes that lead to pain.

But when we see that imagined world, its a wasteland. In Viktor's own words, a field of dreamless solitude. A flat expanse where nothing can change or grow, nothing new can be experienced, none of humanity's warmth and emotion exist anymore.

"There Is No Prize to Perfection, Only an End to Pursuit"

At first I thought it was kind of silly that a scientist would ever misunderstand evolution to the degree Viktor has with this line. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Viktor misunderstanding evolution is just another extension of his perfectionism. It's IMPORTANT that he's wrong actually, it's essential to his arc.

He can't perceive the truth of what evolution is at this point in the story because accepting that means accepting that there is beauty in imperfections.

And I think we all know that that lesson is one that he hadn't quit learned yet.

Thanks for reading my insane ramblings.

"There is beauty in imperfections. They made you who you are. An inseparable piece of everything I admired about you." - Jayce Talis

[dropthedemiurge]

Love for Love's Sake - Director's commentary

[Extra content from Bluray boxset]

If you take it to other platforms, please leave credit and original link. And don't share links to videos publicly as well, thank you ^^

[Translation by AmetistLex]

Director Kim Gyuna: When I got to know about "Love Supremacy Zone" from our CEO, I stayed up all night reading original novel. I immediately knew when I read it, that this was a work I must create no matter what. I kept reading and imagining how to film the scenes. I told CEO that I really want to make this project.

Q. Stories about each main actor's casting?

During the first round of audition, I was really surprised that Taevin came extremely prepared. We gave actors a small script that he memorized but Taevin also read original novel and webtoon, so we could have a deeper talk with him (even during first audition). That's how we realized that with this actor we will be able to bring to life such difficult character as Myungha. We cast him quite quickly.

In the case of Joowan, playing role of Yeowoon, he was cast a bit later. There were a lot of actors trying for that role, but we had a very clear vision for the character so it was difficult to find someone matching that image. But when Joowan entered the room, we were immediately shocked: he was very tall and very cool looking. But at that day he could barely speak. We asked him whether he was nervous, but it turned out that he practiced the script for 2 weeks, 12 hours a day (from 10am to 10pm) before the audition, to the point of losing his voice. His passion was so impressive, and we thought that even if he ended up lacking somewhere, he'd be able to overcome it with this passion. That's how we decided to cast him.

We picked an actor for the role of Sangwon quite fast, too. The fans admit that all our actors fit the images of the original characters really well, and this actor (Minsu) matched a lot traits of Sangwon character in the original novel. Fierce/wild and manly, with a deep voice. Of course, his acting was good, too, so we chose him.

And finally, we didn't cast Woongki through audition. We made an offer to him instead. CEO said that there's this guy - even though he's an idol, he's been acting since he was a kid. So we contacted him and asked to meet us because we liked his image. Surprisingly, he was also very good at acting, his entertainment charms were a great help to match Kyunghoon's image too. Woongki is energetic and bright, but as we kept talking with him, we realized how solid/secure he was.

It felt like a fate to cast these actors in LFLS. Of course, there were difficulties but it all worked out perfectly.

Q. How would you brag about each actor?

Lee Taevin always prepares very diligently, and he's smart. So no matter the discussion, he receives feedback well. It's a lot of fun to work with him. The production team has to prepare more than actors, but he studied the source very passionately and kept saying "I want to try acting like this, what do you think about doing that?". I thought many times that he's a true actor who's overflowing with the passion.

When it comes to Joowan, like I said, he can practice for 12 hours a day. If he wants something, he'll do it even if his body breaks or if he's in pain. He won't even say anything - actually, there were many times when it broke our hearts. We kept telling him that he should speak up, it's okay to tell us (if he needs rest or something), but without any complaints, he worked until the work was done, that's what kind of person he is. That is very amazing of him. When someone is physically exhausted, inevitably there are things they won't be able to do but Joowan is the opposite – after finishing filming, he'd tell someone else how (badly) he made it through. Then we'd ask if he's okay, why didn't he say anything, but he'd go "No, I'm really fine!". His willpower is very strong, he's reliable.

Minsu has a great depth. He listens more than he speaks, thinks about details a lot and has many deep thoughts. I realized he studied Sangwon's character so much that he could talk about him in such depth. He contacted me a lot, even after script reading has just ended, he'd call and say "I had this thought on my way, what do you think?" And after we discussed, his memo app would be filled with a lot of notes. His depth and sincerity are his charms.

And Woongki has the most overflowing energy. Of course, other actors are energetic too but his vibe is just different. I thought that he might be the reason the four main actors were able to bond so well. And like I said, he has a great trait of being solid/secure. It might be a simple word to describe it but I mean he has amazing inner strength that can't be faked. When other actors struggle with their acting or emotions, he helped build them up. So beside just being cheerful, that's his biggest virtue.

Q. What was the most difficult during filming?

We had a lot of discussions with the cinematographer/operator. Since there's a lot of CGI in this project, we worried about how much we could actually film. And we thought a lot about how to visually convey all the complicated details of this fantasy story. We worked tightly with CG team but sometimes executing our ideas was difficult due to various restraints. I had a fear we wouldn't be able to deliver our ideas properly so we discussed everything a lot together with our teams. I think the result was good.

Q. What was the moment you enjoyed the most?

Preparing and post-production are fun but I enjoy shooting on set the most. You can immediately get feedback from everyone's energy, they give good or bad reactions. Creating something together is a lot of fun. And since our actors are good, when the scenes I imagined in my head came to life, it was extremely joyful.

Q. If you had to choose your favourite scene?

I really liked a lot the cut from episode 7 when Yeowoon says "I love you". I had a vision of this scene in my mind but reality was even better, so I thought this would definitely made viewers' hearts flutter.

I also love the scenes where the four characters are together. Even though the story focuses on Myungha's character and his relationship with Yeowoon, I actually love all four characters. So the scenes like one in the restaurant or rooftop when they grill meat have totally different energy. Comparing to the scenes with only Myungha or Myungha with Yeowoon, scenes with four characters together are full of complete joy. Even when shooting was hard and everyone was exhausted, filming those scenes was a lot of fun. If I had to pick one scene as a highlight, it'd be the one where four friends are eating meat together.

Q. What other parts of novel you'd like to put in a drama series?

Our characters are high school students, and usually at that period of life you mostly study. But since our story is about finding happiness, we removed a lot of studying scenes. But there were a lot of studying scenes in the original novel, like Myungha and Kyunghoon studying together, teaching Yeowoon and eating fruits. I thought such scenes could add one more spoon of sweetness to the drama.

Q. What are flaws and advantages of the novel and drama series?

I don't think none of them have flaws, both novel and drama complement each other. The novel, because of being just the text, relies a lot of reader's imagination and sometimes author's intention doesn't get delivered properly. And in the drama, we can visualize and show those messages more clearly. So I think both formats help each other.

And novel has scenes that we couldn't show in the drama, as well as more details for the emotional moments. Even fans say they can't choose one or another. This mutual supplement creates an effect of the loop.

Q. What did you try to bring to life the most from original novel?

We mentioned it during our group reaction to the series as well: I really wanted to bring to life the sunset scene. After I read the original novel, I had three key scenes that I definitely wanted to properly visualize. To the "world is changing" scene when main characters meet for the first time, we paid attention the most. Then, the final kiss at sunset in the ending. Since those were the beginning and end of the story, I wanted to open and close the story well so we focused a lot those scenes and had a lot of ambitions.

Q. Say a message for the actors.

Taevin, Joowan, Minsu, Woongki, every time I have to wrap things up with you, one phrase always comes to mind: "I'm always grateful to you, you did so well". I really want to say this to you guys. I was very happy to work with you on this project for such a long time, it was a very meaningful time. Thanks to you, Love Supremacy Zone received so much love and stayed in the hearts of many people. I believe you will become amazing actors – one day, one project, to anyone. I hope you will be happy in the future, thank you and I love you~ Let's be happy!

Q. Message to the fans who loved this series

First of all, thank you. I want to express my love as much as you've loved us. I think the biggest reason this project was completed was the love that you, fans, gave us. Without your love, we wouldn't even end up here, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Actors and staff think this way too. You gave us so much love and we were able to work on this project so joyfully. Thank you a lot for all the love. If you keep loving us in the future, we'll love you even more too. Thanks to you, we were able to complete this project. Thank you and be happy. Goodbye!

// other Love Supremacy Zone extra content //

[scoupsakakitty]

Where Friendship Meets Fate | idol!Mingyu x reader | fluff

The smell of sizzling meat filled the air as the group gathered around the grill, the small Korean BBQ restaurant bustling with energy. Y/N sat next to her childhood friend Dino, who had been hyping up this get-together for weeks.

“You’re going to love my hyungs,” Dino had promised with a grin when he’d invited her. “They’re fun, easy to talk to, and kind of chaotic—but in a good way.”

Now, Y/N was finally meeting them: Vernon, who exuded coolness but had an unexpectedly goofy side, DK, who was radiating sunshine with every word, and Mingyu, the tall, handsome guy sitting to her right. From the moment they introduced themselves, Y/N could tell that Dino hadn’t been exaggerating.

“Y/N!” DK exclaimed as she reached for the tongs to flip the meat. “Wait, wait! Let Mingyu do it. He takes grilling way too seriously.”

Mingyu, who was in the middle of pouring himself a drink, raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me? I’m not that bad.”

“You literally Googled the perfect grilling technique last time,” Vernon deadpanned, taking a sip of his soda.

“And let’s not forget the meat thermometer incident,” Dino added, smirking.

“Hey, that was one time!” Mingyu protested, taking the tongs from Y/N with a mock sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only because I want us all to eat perfectly grilled meat.” He looked over at Y/N and gave her a wink. “You’ll thank me later.”

Y/N laughed, leaning back in her seat. “You sound like you’re auditioning for a cooking show.”

“That’s because he thinks he’s a professional chef,” Vernon teased.

“Let him be,” DK chimed in with a grin. “We all know he’s trying to impress Y/N.”

At that, Mingyu almost dropped the tongs, his ears turning red. “What?! I—no—I mean, come on, DK!”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, Mingyu. I’m already impressed by your dedication to grilling.”

“See?” Mingyu said, pointing at her with the tongs. “At least someone here appreciates me.”

As the evening went on, the banter continued, with everyone sharing stories and cracking jokes. Dino told embarrassing childhood anecdotes about Y/N, much to her dismay.

“And then,” Dino said, barely able to contain his laughter, “she got her foot stuck in the playground fence because she thought she could fit through it.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Why do you always bring that up? I was six!”

Mingyu leaned closer to her, his voice teasing. “So, you’ve always been a bit of a risk taker?”

“More like reckless,” Vernon added with a chuckle.

“Okay, okay, enough about me,” Y/N said, pointing at Dino. “Remember when you—”

“Don’t even start,” Dino cut her off, laughing as he held up his hands.

The conversation shifted again, and somehow, Y/N and Mingyu found themselves deep in a discussion about cooking.

“Do you cook often?” Mingyu asked, turning his attention to her while the others debated the best karaoke songs.

“Yeah, when I have time,” Y/N said. “It’s kind of my escape after a long day.”

“Same here,” Mingyu said, nodding. “It’s like therapy, but with food.”

Y/N smiled. “Exactly. Though I’ve had my fair share of disasters in the kitchen.”

“Disasters are part of the process,” Mingyu said. “It just means you’re experimenting.”

“Sounds like something a food scientist would say,” Y/N teased.

Mingyu laughed, a deep, warm sound that made her stomach flutter. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just looking for someone to try my experiments with.”

DK, overhearing, leaned over with a sly grin. “Are you asking her to be your cooking partner, Mingyu?”

“Mind your business, hyung,” Mingyu shot back, but he was smiling.

————————————————————————————-

By the time they finished eating, everyone was full and in high spirits. Dino suggested they hit a karaoke bar, and the group eagerly agreed.

The karaoke bar was vibrant and loud, the perfect setting for their group’s chaotic energy. DK and Dino immediately grabbed the microphones, belting out dramatic ballads and over-the-top dance moves that had everyone in stitches. Vernon followed up with a rap song, his surprisingly good flow earning him cheers.

Y/N and Mingyu stayed near the back of the room, occasionally joining in but mostly talking and laughing. Mingyu was easy to talk to, and his teasing, while relentless, only made the conversation more fun.

“So,” Mingyu said during a lull in the music, “are you not singing because you’re shy, or because you can’t reach the mic stand?”

Y/N gasped, pretending to glare at him. “That’s it. Give me the mic. I’m about to prove you wrong.”

Laughing, Mingyu handed her the microphone. She chose a playful, upbeat song and sang with so much enthusiasm that DK and Dino joined in as backup dancers. When the song ended, the room erupted into applause.

“Okay, I take it back,” Mingyu said, grinning. “You can definitely hold your own.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, pretending to bow. “I expect an apology for the height joke, though.”

Mingyu smirked. “Don’t push your luck.”

————————————————————————————-

Hours later, the group finally decided to call it a night. Outside the karaoke bar, everyone began saying their goodbyes.

“I’ll drive Y/N home,” Mingyu offered casually, twirling his car keys in his hand.

“You don’t have to—” Y/N started, but Dino cut her off.

“Take the offer. You know you hate walking home late at night.”

With a reluctant smile, Y/N nodded. “Alright, thanks, Mingyu.”

————————————————————————————-

As they drove through the quiet streets, the atmosphere in the car was warm and easy. Mingyu turned on some soft music, and they chatted about everything from their favorite foods to their most embarrassing cooking failures.

When they pulled up to her building, Mingyu turned off the engine and glanced over at her.

“I had fun tonight,” he said, his voice soft but sincere.

“Me too,” Y/N replied, smiling.

Mingyu hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone. “Can I get your number? You know, in case I need someone to taste-test my next cooking experiment.”

Y/N laughed. “Only if you promise not to call me short again.”

“No promises,” Mingyu teased, handing her his phone.

After she saved her number, Mingyu leaned back with a satisfied smile. “How about this: we cook together sometime? You can teach me how to not burn pancakes.”

“Deal,” Y/N said, opening the car door.

As she stepped out, Mingyu called after her, “Oh, and don’t worry—I’ll bring a stool so you can reach the top shelves.”

Y/N groaned, but her laughter echoed in the quiet night.

As Mingyu drove away, he couldn’t stop smiling. For him, the evening had been more than fun—it felt like the start of something special.

————————————————————————————-

[divinehedons]

call it fate, call it karma

next: hard to explain | masterlist

pairing: bd!joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~4.3k

summary: it’s summer. and on a weekend visit to your college beau, you meet a texan contractor with wandering eyes. what he sees is what he wants. what happens if he wants you?

warnings: this is a dark, explicit fic, minors DO NOT interact. big, girthy age gap (reader is in her early twenties, joel is in his late 40s to early 50s), masturbation, possible dubious consent, explicit p-in-v sex, fingering, cheating(? but it's mutual HAHAHA). please let me know if i missed anything!

reblogs and comments are much appreciated, please let me know what you think!

Finals, madness, nights of mindless regurgitating, and finally, peace. Emerging from your last exam and into the allure of summer break, you try and picture the weekend you had planned with Christopher: a weekend at his father's house, with the promise of a pool and actually, finally spending time together, and driving you home by Monday while he returns to his mother's place.

The two of you pull into Texas, discussing what to have for lunch, whether or not you should bring some for his father. "It'll be nice, no?" you tell him as you add the extra box of pizza. "And hey, if he doesn't want it, let's devour it over movies in your room." He smiles at you, and you ruffle his hair just as he parks in front of the familiar house.

When you're reintroduced to the older mister Miller, you see him at the tail-end of a phone call just as your presence is announced. "You've met before, we had her at Thanksgiving," Christopher reminds, carrying your bags in. 

You hear a woman's voice, just slightly, from the phone (... mean it, no strange women…), mister Miller looking up with a rushed, "I got it, I got it…" before finally setting the phone down. He offers you a warm smile, nodding in recognition before welcoming his son with a shoulder squeeze. He says your name, and you try not to smile at the way he says it with that almost-indistinguishable drawl of his. "Still not tired of him, sweet pea?"

You remember that Thanksgiving. How you and mister Miller bonded over when you drove Chris's car back and panicked over a flat tire you caused while he was off with some buddies. You bonded because he taught you how to fix a tire that afternoon, him laughing at your small hands struggling with such big boy paraphernalia as you coined it.

You smile back at him and shake his hand. "Thanks for letting me stay over the weekend, sir," you say just as your partner disappears upstairs to set down your things. Just then, he tuts, taking a slice out of one of the pizza boxes, along with a newly opened bottle of beer.

"Told ya, doll. It's just Joel. Don't have too much fun, yeah?"

—

Joel didn't mean to stare when he last saw you. When you were kneeling over, lowering the jack after he taught you how to change a tire. You were in your colleague sweater, but your pants… dear God, your pants. Your pants that perfectly hugged the curve of your ass struck him dumb. He barely managed to shake himself out of it to tell you that youbdid a good job.

But since then, he had been imagining your ass. It's as if the sight of a college girl turned him right back to a drooling, horny teenager that never had enough. He did keep his hands to himself, never making a move. And he would've been happy to let you and Christopher be if he didn't start picturing you in those lonely nights when the house is quiet and he has his cock in his hand.

But it was impossible.

Just the thought of your ass cheeks red, bearing a handprint that perfectly fit the contours of his own hands, your curves, your flesh, the smell of your skin— such was the callings of his desire as he bursts, imagining that glass-eyed look on your face if you were taking his cock.

There was no shame in it, when he did finally give in to his desires. How could he not? You had fuck eyes for days, eyes that, if he was being completely honest, would damn God himself to the very gates of hell. There was no shame, too, when he realized just how much his own son wasn't taking care of you.

So seeing you again, now sprawled in a lovely little swimsuit as his own son holds you by your waist as you wade into the pool. He watches from the kitchen, knowing his looks would go unnoticed in the shade. It was burning outside, and it was still Friday. The street was quiet with everyone still away for school and work. He just couldn't stay away from you. When Christopher told him you were with him, he had cancelled plans, even work, on a Friday, under the pretense of bad health and multiple other excuses. He knows, for a fact, that he'd take every chance to see those fuck eyes of yours even if you never asked.

He knows, too, if he was getting you in his bed, he had to be creative about it.

Still, Christopher could be a little more discreet. Instead, there you were, nodding to him as he corners you in his own pool in his own house, reaching down to pull your bottoms aside to fuck up into you. He's gotten to know your quirks enough. How your creased brows indicate your frustration. Or how your shoulders tense from apprehension. And right there, where Christopher attempts to find his own orgasm without even a care in the world for your own, you're so frigid he would think you bathed in the Arctic.

The charade doesn't last long. Three minutes, by his count, until you're pulling away, swimming to the nearest floatie to lounge while Christopher tires himself out with a few laps. It's then that Joel pretends to swoop in, bringing out a few drinks in service of the two of you, slipping on some sunglasses so you wouldn't notice him ogling your willing body as you thank him.

"Got you that grape drink you liked last time, doll. Help yourself to more in the fridge if you want it."

"Thanks m-" he lowers his glasses to playfully raise his brow at you, "J-Joel. Thanks, Joel…" He flashes you a smirk, placing his glasses back on as he seats himself on the nearest spot, pretending to be in need of some sun.

"Chris, your mom's waiting for you to call," he reminds his son, leaning back as he sips from his beer. Just then, your beau sits up, wiping his mouth as he stood, beelining for the nearest door inside.

"Thanks for reminding, dad!"

Alone, with you, like this, Joel notices the way you rubbed your thighs together, the way you sighed after each sip. The hidden frustration as you floated about on his pool, displayed like a delectable centerpiece. It was clear as day: you didn’t get to cum and it’s bothering you. It took a few more minutes before he spoke.

"So why'd you fake it, sweet pea?"

The question comes to you out of nowhere. Your head shoots up and you look at him with those wide, bewildered doe eyes as you immediately stammer to try and find the right words. You try and play it off with a chuckle, but you feel your cheeks warm up. "What- wha…"

He chuckles himself, sipping from his bottle before leaning back with crossed arms. "It was three minutes of him wriggling, darlin'. No one was going to cum from that." He watches you sit up completely, every fiber at rest jumping into action.

"You saw that?" Your sweet voice, Joel noted, trembling from what he only assumes as embarrassment riddled with shame. "I… I-" You clear your throat momentarily, biting your lip gently before sighing, turning over. “You kind of answered your own question, Joel.” There is a beat of silence, palpable and tense as you feel his gaze wash over your vulnerable body.

The two of you hear Christopher, blundering his way back to the pool now that the phone call was out of his way. Joel sighs,getting up with a stretch as he passes by you again to disappear into the house.

“Our secret, doll. I’m nice that way.”

–

Over dinner, Joel speaks to you with a smile, perhaps he was feigning interest. Perhaps he truly was interested. Whatever it was, you feel the palpable weight in the air at the knowledge of what you shared with the older Miller. Christopher, clueless as he is, spends most of dinner with his hand on your thigh, chiming in every now and then between bites.

“So what was the exam you took before the two of you drove here?” Joel had been asking while you sipped through your drink, your brows raised as you smiled.

“It was some English Literature course," you said, meek as ever, managing a small smile up at him as he hums with interest.

"Ah. So that Shakesword guy or something? What did'ya like from him?"

"Shakespeare, actually… And I loved Macbeth."

"When we met, she was nose deep in Hamlet, if I remembered right." Christopher soothed his hand up and down your thigh, to which you nodded in agreement.

"Tell me about Macbeth."

You take a deep breath, feeling both eyes on you as you carefully swallowed down the lump in your throat. "It's the usual things. War, misery, curses, witches. But Lady Macbeth… that was where it was." He tilts his head to the side, nodding at you to continue. "She demanded divinity to transform her into a man. To take up the mantle from her weak husband. To take charge."

He chuckles softly, almost teasingly and knowingly, even. "Shit, doll, didn't think you had that many words in ya."

The rest of dinner goes by in relative ease, with Christopher letting you know he's meeting with some buddies tomorrow after he drops you off in the center of town. He promises, however, that he'll pick you up at three in the afternoon.

As you lay in bed that night, you glance haphazardly at your phone as it lights up in the late night silence. A message from Joel, a contact you saved under Mr. Miller back when you met over Thanksgiving. The message was simple enough.

Sweet dreams, Lady Macbeth.

—

Three in the afternoon on Saturday, you're seated where Christopher says he'll pick you up, bearing a bag for the sweater you bought him. You messaged him fifteen minutes earlier. On my way to the bench, bubba! Without a response, you think he's driving.

Above you, dark clouds seem to gather where once it was only bright summer sun. You quietly grip your bags tighter as you count in your head. He'll be here soon… I'll be out of the rain in no time.

You quietly count down the seconds. Six hundred. Five hundred ninety-nine. Five hundred ninety-eight…

Three P.M. turns to four, then four-thirty. You message Christopher two more times.

It might be raining soon, I have an umbrella!

Make sure you're not in the rain too much!

You stand under the umbrella, pacing every now and then, trying not to appear skittish, specially when the thunder and lightning began to roll across the sky, making the hair on your arms stand on edge. It was troubling, to be outside during a thunderstorm like this.

You count in increments of six hundreds. Ten minutes pass by again. Then twenty. Then thirty.

A particularly raucous lightning makes you jump out of your skin, and you swallow your pride, dialing the next person nearest you. The nearest person you'd think would answer.

And he does, in a record of two rings. He says your name and you audibly sigh in relief. "What's the matter, doll?"

"Joel, uhm… has Christopher answered your calls? We were supposed to meet at three-"

"Christ, doll, it's storming. He still hasn't gotten to you?"

You hesitate. You wonder if you were going to be too harsh on your beau if you admitted he wasn't. Just then, another strike of lightning has you confessing. "He… he wasn't answering my texts, I don't know where he is."

You hear him cuss at the other end, along with the sound of his keys and his heavy steps.

"Stay put for me, sweet pea. Where are you waiting?"

You tell him, and you don't even count to three hundred before he's pulling up in front of you, opening the passenger door and yelling at you to get in.

"Christ, doll, you're freezing! How long were you out there?" You feel his gaze on yours as you attempt to say your thanks, still visibly shaking from being out in the rain so long, combined with the fear of lightning. He immediately reaches back to retrieve the towels he had brought exactly for this scenario, covering you up in them as you finally manage. “Thanks, Joel. D-did… did Chris leave a word, or anything? I’ve been trying to reach him…”

You don’t miss the way he tries to hold back a smirk, buckling your seatbelt as he sighs. “He said he’s drinking with some buddies, doll. But I thought he already told you. He didn’t mention you’d be needin’ a ride or anythin’.” He pauses, as if for dramatic effect. “Actually, it sounded really loud when he called." You look right back at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you processed his words.

Oh. Oh.

“H-he probably just forgot. Or something,” you try to justify as Joel begins to steer the two of you through the storm and back to his house. “I just hope he doesn’t get sick from the weather or anything…”

“God, sweet pea, you’re just so goddamn sweet even if he’s an asshole, huh?”

It shuts you up for the rest of the ride. He escorts you inside, telling you he’ll hand you a set of clothes. That you should be rinsing off immediately. You do not see the way he stares at your soaked shirt, your skin so fucking close and yet so far. You obey, so quickly that it makes his cheeks hurt from smiling. It was so natural for you, and it makes him absolutely feral. Most of all, you’re so vulnerable right now. And it hatches a wretched plan in his head before he could stop it.

He takes a shirt and boxers from his own closet, under the guise of wanting to keep yours and Christopher's stuff private. And he opens the door, expecting to see you mostly naked. Oh, God, sweet pea, I'm so sorry! Feign innocence, caring and comforting.

What he didn't expect was you seated on the counter, a photo on the screen of your phone. One of his son, your beau, holding another woman that was so clearly not you, posted by some friend. He didn't expect to see you teary-eyed, cheeks bright red as you hiccup.

"I… I guess that's why… he wouldn't pick up…"

He sighs, tilts his head to the side. "Oh, sweetheart…" He rushes to you, embracing you gently, damp clothes and all, into his warm arms as he shushes you gently. You try to resist him when he begins to help you with your clothes. You try to resist him when he offers tenderness. But it's all so rare, so careful, with such gentleness that you find yourself agreeing with anything he asked. Let me draw you a bath, doll, meaning he'll watch you soak. Let me help you with that, meaning he wanted to be the one to strip you down.

"He never treated you like this, doll, did he?" The look on your face is enough to answer him. He clicks his tongue, leaning his ear close as he slips your unclasped bra down your shivering frame. "Oh, darlin'. Let me show you how a lady should be treated."

It's how you end up in the warm bath he had prepared, settled between his legs with his mouth on your neck, his hands running up and down your sides until you were shaking and giggling from the touch. "Pretty li'l thing like you shouldn't be neglected. He's a damn fool."

He begins to ask for things while he's already doing them. He drifts his hands to your breasts and whispers, "Okay if I touched ya like this?" He pinches your hardened nipples and says, "Feels good, doesn't it, darlin'?" You wriggle in his grasp, ticklish and alight, tethered in the receeding waves of emotion as he draws you into some semblance of relaxation, smoothing out each tense muscle as he speaks to you with such unabashed softness.

Your first moan escapes you before you could stop it. One hand flies to your mouth as you immediately attempt to pull away from Joel. And yet, he holds you, chuckling right against your ear that you feel the smirk on his face spreading against the curve of your ear.

"I bet he never made you feel that good, baby doll."

You try and argue, left stammering just as his left hand holds your left leg up against your torso, his right hand moving down to cup you by your cunt. You feel him hardening behind you, pressed against the small of your back, grinding against your skin there. He kisses the back of your ear, chuckling as you struggle to hold back the rest of your moans. "Come on, doll, make some noise for me… otherwise, we'll be here all night, because I'm not stoppin' 'til you use that fuckin' mouth of yours to prove I'm better than him.

He dreamt of this. Your willing frame whining and moaning from every touch he gives you. You could not even conceal the fact that you were on edge and you were wet. He spreads you with his fingers, pausing as he nibbles on your earlobe before finally, finally sinking his fingers right where you're pink and lovely and warm. The fact that you felt bursting from just two fingers had you shivering with excitement, a surprised squeal escaping your mouth.

"J-Joel… Joel…"

"You can take it, sweet pea, stay close to me…" His left arm relaxes its hold on your left leg, drifting closer to begin rubbing soft, languid circles right on your aching clit as you lean your head back and sigh dreamily, feeling that familiar ascent into almost-forgotten bliss. It was something you only felt when you fucked yourself. It was something that eluded you in your sex life. You feel Joel's eyes on your face; when your features contort with the pleasure, when your hands palm at his beard, pulling at him needily to plant a kiss to your wanton mouth.

It's almost too quickly that you're cresting, feeling your sides burn from want as you grind into his hands in an effort to cum faster. And just when it was three seconds away, he tears his hands off of you, revelling in the sounds of your protest, your whining as you looked up at him. Already, too, he's getting out of the tub, draining the water as he picks you up in his arms.

"I know, I know what you need…" Still, you whine, thighs rubbing together. "But if I'm making you cum, sweet pea, I'm doin' it right by making you cum all over my sheets. Got it?" You nod, wrapping your arms around him as he carries you, bath water dripping and all, taking you to his bedroom with his slept-in sheets and oscillating fan to the side. He lays you among the sheets, smirking as he trailed one hand down your front, against your skin with butterfly caresses. Like an observer in some strange gallery, the fount of art and beauty exhibited for his own decrepit sensual pleasure.

“Y’wanna tell me what’cha want, dollface?” You try. You try to look away from his fingertips running up and down your stomach, knowing the power beneath that skin. You feel the restraint on his face, along with that smirk you just can’t seem to wipe off of him. “Yeah… you’re just absolutely desperate for me, no?”

“Want you… please…”

“Where d’ya want me? Here?” He drifts his hand to your neck, giving the slightest squeeze. You whine, and he drifts his touch to your willing mouth. Two fingers, delving into the warm wetness of your tongue, the softness of the inside of your cheeks. “Certainly not here… you’re certainly not mouthy.” Then he drifts his touch to your stomach, drifting lower, lower, and lower… “That’s it. I’m getting warmer, yeah?” He chuckles, his free hand moving to turn your face towards him as he looks at those softened features, your willingness laid bare before him. “What do you want from me? My cock? My mouth?”

It’s so much attention, all-encompassing, and all at once. You wonder if his touch strikes like lightning. And if it didn’t, then why does he make you quake to your very bones? He continues his teasing, pushing and prodding at you so closely where you want him, but never close enough. The charade continues before you eventually find the courage, eventually pushed to the brink of such wanton need.

“Both.” You grit your teeth, feeling the warmth coating your cheeks as you whine. “Both, Joel, please.”

He chuckles darkly, rewarding you with a bruising kiss, beard digging into your cheek, your chin, your body spread eagle and willing. “That’s a good, fuckin’ girl…” He rewards you by settling between your legs, spreading you wide open, and fucking his tongue on your weeping cunt. His growls emanate against your willing flesh, making you tremble, the vibrations otherworldly as he pushes you right through your first orgasm that weekend. One, you hoped, that wouldn’t be the last. “You’re so fuckin’ easy and he can’t even make you cum? Fuck, doll…” You squeal, fingers tangling into his hair as your hips grind, chasing waves of that sweet release until your eyes roll back, your body surrenders, and you are left limp with from his minstrations.

“We’re not yet done, doll. Think y’can handle more of me?”

It’s when you see that dark look on his face, A shadow hard to miss once you saw it. He kisses his way up to your face, wrapping your legs around his waist. He does not waste time, immediately pinning you down so he can fuck his hard cock into you, letting your moans and whines echo into the empty house. The stretch is glorious, his cock hitting places you did not know could be reached before. And all the while, he’s watching your face and your body contorting to the sensations you could not explain. Body electric magnified, body electric divine. He thrusts once, twice– and already, you were reeling in another orgasm.

He calls you beautiful, and he makes you understand that you are– that the iniquity of others was not your doing. That you deserved to feel good and light and wonderful. All while he sinks his teeth against your shoulder, your arm, sucking hickeys throughout the expanse of your skins, marks you would not be able to explain. It would have continued that way, and it should have, had Joel not heard the crunching of gravel on his driveway.

He pauses, shushes you gently, cupping your face as you whined desperately, clawing against his bare chest as he clears your hair from your face. “You’re gonna have to keep quiet f’me, doll. Think ya can do that?” You nod desperately, taking one hand to press against your mouth, anything to make him move again and give you one more release. One you were so desperately close to. “You don’t want him to hear us, did’ya?”

It’s when you realize, when you recognize the familiar heavy footsteps of the man who abandoned you, the lover who should be doing this. You looked up at Joel with a panicked gaze, his palm pressing harder against your mouth when you began to make some noise.

“I don’t have the patience to tell ya again. Don’t make this harder for yourself, baby doll.”

It’s when he fucks you with abandon, barely concealing his own moans as you tremble in his hold, locking your legs around his waist as he thrusts. Despite only one or two light groans escaping him, you see how tense his jaw had become, clenching, grinding beneath the skin. You know he’s close, and yet he waits for you, reaching down to rub your aching little clit. He rubs you repeatedly until the riptide of pleasure swallows you whole. Your eyes gloss over, a singular, weak whimper escaping through your self-censorship, your warm breath absorbed by Joel’s palm.

Just a few moments more, and his cock buries deep into you, silencing himself by sinking his teeth into the curve of your shoulder. It is a way to silence himself, to relax, to completely surrender his orgasm to you. His warm spend fills your aching walls, his body falling against yours as he sighs.

Just then, you hear, right across the hall. You hear Christopher. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He steps out into the hallway. It’s followed with him raising his voice. (Hey dad! Have you heard from her?) Joel manages a soft chuckle into your ear. “Fucking asshole, no?” he whispers against you as he takes a deep breath.

“Thought’cha were meetin’ her at three?” he manages, and you’re shocked at how composed he was still was, and yet how possessive his hold on you had become.

If he gets to have you for five more minutes, he’ll take it. The truth was, it felt like you belonged right there in his bed, sheltering his cum within your warm walls as you demand affection, soft in aftercare. Call it fate, even if it’s such a loose term. Were you really fated for him when he took you for himself?

When Christopher leaves, he chuckles, collapsing against you again as his breath escapes him in ragged increments. You fall asleep almost immediately, as if you found home in his week-old sheets.

Call it fate, call it karma. He’d still fuck you again if he had the choice.

[wardenparker]

The Unbearable Weight of Perfection, ch 8

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When an accident of fate throws Javi G into the path of his soulmate, his instinct is to dive in head first. Adjusting to life as the fated partner of someone you barely know is going to be harder than either of you suspect, but anything worth having is worth working for. Isn't it?

(This story is heavily inspired by the lovely house museums that I work in every day and the fantastic few months that HBO was using our houses to film a TV show in fall! I spent each day on that set in wonder and I can't wait to share the experience with all of you through this story.)

Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, references to abusive family members -- i.e. Lucas, discussion of money/finances.* Miscommunication, fluff, flirting, surprises. Summary: The first party you and Javi throw at the house turns out be to much more eventful than anticipated! Notes: As a heads up for next week, I'll be taking Sunday the 20th off from posting. It is birthday weekend for my beloved @julesonrecord and I'll be in VT with her to celebrate. Enjoy your holidays if you celebrate, and enjoy the triumphant return of TLoU!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6

Saturday, May 24, 2025

“Sweetheart, did you want the stack of towels outside?” Javi asks. The pool is done, beautiful and perfectly balanced chemically thanks to the pool company that you had hired. Now the moment that everyone had been waiting for. The pool party that you had offered to throw. Combining the celebration of breaking ground on the house and finishing the pool.”

“Will you put them on the table behind where we have the chairs set up?” For all the flirting around you’re doing, the outside observer might think you’re nervous about this party. But in the last few weeks you’ve felt more yourself than ever.

Javi is wearing one of the new shirts you made him with the linen you picked up a few weeks ago, and you made yourself a wrap dress to use as a swimsuit cover up. There are plenty of drinks, tons of food, and a plethora of friends coming over. It’s really the first party you’re throwing at the house, and the house isn’t even built yet — but the excitement is here.

"Did Billie say that she would be able to make it?" Filming is done for the week and he knows that everyone is looking forward to relaxing. Alex joked that he might never get out of the pool and Tamara agreed whole heartedly. The production was close and it was a good time, something that Javi loved. Nick was out of town, but Olivia was coming, so he couldn't complain.

“She said she would be here after work.” You check your watch as you shift pillows on the brand new lounge chairs around the pool. “So that should be around one o’clock.”

"How is the outdoor kitchen working out?" Javi asks. "Martin said he was going to check in with us in a few days to make sure there's nothing we want to change or add after we used it a few times."

“Today will be the real test.” Everything is at least functional, but it will take a party to make sure that it flows well and that nothing needs changing. “It’s noon now, so people should start showing up any time. Is there anything else you need to do to get ready, mi amor?”

"Just to give you a kiss and tell you that I want to strip that swimsuit off of you." He smirks, and moves over to pull you into his arms.

“I’ll let you tonight,” you promise him, moving easily into his side and sighing at the nearness of his soft warmth.

"I love my new shirt," your fingers slide across his chest and stroke the fabric gently. Making him smile as you do it almost unconsciously. "It is probably the best fit I've ever had."

“It probably helps that I know your body better than any seamstress you could have gone to.” Flirting with your husband is more than second nature at this point. It’s as easy as breathing. “But…you really like it? You’re not just saying that?”

"Sweetheart, I love it." He promises, his hand covering yours in reassurance. "Honestly? I was going to ask if you could make me another just like it."

“I’ll make as many as you want.” Starting to design and sew and mend again has brought you so much comfort and joy over the last few weeks that you can’t possibly express it. It’s like someone reached into your chest and held your rib cage open, giving you the space to breathe. “Pants, shorts, anything you want.”

"I just don't want to load you down." He leans in and kisses you softly.

“You couldn’t possibly.” The notebook you carry on set is starting to fill with dress designs just like your notebooks did when you were younger, you’ll be glad to add other things alongside.

"What do you think about making me something to wear to the premier?" He asks. It's still a long way off, but he wants to encourage you as much as he can.

“Seriously?” You perk up at that idea, eyes wide with surprise. “You…on a red carpet? You want to wear something homemade?”

"Why not?" He asks, smiling confidently at you. "All designers were homemade at one point."

The way your heart swells almost makes it feel like you’re floating. “You really have that much faith in me?”

“I really have that much faith in you.” He repeats with a nod and a small wink. “Whatever you want. I trust you completely. Match us too if you can.”

“If I start designing now, I’ll have enough time.” The suggestion — and the support — earn him a grateful kiss. One that you sink into happily and let the world melt away.

“I will help you in whatever way I can.” He promises with a happy smile. The idea was planted and he loves encouraging you. What’s even better? You have true talent.

"Can I show you my sketches when I have a few ideas?" That's the stage you're in now -- ideas and concepts -- and you're not going to claim otherwise.

“You can show me anything.” He shares his pages with you sometimes, uses you as a sounding board when he is hung up or unsure of where to go with a scene, and he would be honored if you did the same thing. “I promise I will never be anything but honest with you.”

"And that is the very best thing that you could possibly be." There is time for a kiss lasting just a few seconds, but the doorbell sounds from inside the house before you can sink into it. "I'll go get that."

“Okay.” You had already set out some snacks, so Javi goes to the outdoor bar to start setting out drinks, ready for the party to get underway.

It's Moira at the door, squealing with excitement and ready to hug. "Hi gorgeous!!" You squeak, throwing your arms around her the second you open the door.

“I am soooooo ready to lounge by your pool and pretend it’s mine.” She teases with a huge grin and pulls back to press the bottle of cheap champagne she had bought into your hand. “Shouldn’t we break a bottle over the grill or something? Like they do ships?”

"Mi casa es su casa, bitch. Get in here." You tug her inside, giggling, and practically fly through the house to the back porch.

"Oh god, it's gorgeous." She's seen pictures, but she's not seen the final product until now. You and Javi had teasingly kept everyone away until the big reveal tonight. "It's- babe- you now live the dream!"

"I've been living the dream for months." Sighing softly – happily – and looking back at your best friend, you grin. "Welcome to paradise, babe. Construction on the house is fully underway!"

"How do you feel about the plans?" She asks, brows raised and her lips twisting into a grin.

"What do you know about the plans?" Her reaction to the final design for the house makes you raise your eyebrow in turn. "Don't tell me you were Javi's consultant?"

Her shrug is just a little too casual. "I don't know what you are talking about." She hums innocently.

"You sneaks!" It's pure blustering, of course, but you had been so excited to unveil the house plans to Moira and your friends this weekend. For a moment you can't tell if you're more touched or bewildered that they managed to coordinate everything without you knowing any of it. "Javi, it was Moira? You got my dreamhouse plans out of her with no effort, didn't you?"

Javi looks between you and Moira and there is a little bit of a conspiring grin that is twisting his lips, but he just shrugs just as casually as Moira did earlier. "Don't know what you are talking about."

"Amor de mi vida." There is already a drink in your hand, as you automatically started pouring for Moira and then for yourself, and you brandish the cold glass at him with fervor. "You sneak!" You repeat, breaking out into giggles.

"I wanted to make sure that I was not doing too much." Javi admits, grinning and moving over to you again to steal a kiss.

"He absolutely did too much," Moira promises you.

"Oh, I know." If you're a little teary, neither your husband or your best friend is going to call you out on it just yet. "I finally saw the plans. I thought I was going to be surprising you with the mini-modified Hazelwood that my soulmate is building for our family. But you knew. Sneak!"

"He wanted to make sure you wouldn't hate it or think he was insane." She throws her arm around you and laughs wildly. "I cannot believe that you are going to basically create history with this house."

When you had at last joined Javi and your architect for the finalization of the plans for the house and seen what your husband had created, you had wept with surprise and love. Javi, who had given up building one dream house already, had swept in and picked up your dream with wild abandon. The big difference, he had said, is that the landscaping he had in mind was from his family's home in Mallorca. Your suggestion of olive trees on the property went along with his wish to recreate some of the gardens from home, and all at once the decision had been complete.

"It still needs a name," you remind both of them, caught happily in the middle of a husband-and-best-friend hug sandwich. "Javi insists it has to have a name."

"Whatever it is, it needs to pay homage to the original Hazelwood." Moira taps her finger on the edge of the glass you had given her and takes a sip. "Why not something like Olivewood or...." She shrugs. "I don't know."

"We thought about Olivewood." It was the first idea, in fact, but it had been vetoed fairly quickly. "But we thought Olivia would hate it. It sounds a little too much like it's named after her."

"Almas Gemelas." She smirks at the romanticism of it. "You can't say no to that."

"Almas Gemelas." You look up to Javi, with the hum of the words on your lips. Soulmates. Surely a house built by love can be named for it, too.

He tilts his head and smiles. "You like it?" He asks softly. "Because I do."

It only takes one step to move into his side again, sliding your arms around his waist and lifting your chin up to place a sweet kiss on his lips. “Then it’s settled.”

“We will have to have it written on the gates.” He’s going to make sure that the property is secure for his family.

“Oo, gates?” Moira grins. “Fancy schmancy.”

“Yes, but you will have a code for the gate.” He promises with a quick smile. “Family is always welcomed anytime.”

“What did I tell you?” You wink, giving her arm a squeeze when you hear the doorbell again. “Mi casa es su casa.”

Jason is next, greeting Javi happily when he comes inside and bringing a bottle of booze that he swears is the best.

Tracy and Tandy arrive not longer after, practically dragging Heather in tow. While the costumer claims not to be much for parties, she does love all of the people here, so she let herself be talked into accepting the invitation. Olivia and Tamara arrive nearer to one o'clock, and then the last arrivals of the day are left to be Alex and Billie.

"If they get here at the same time, my cousin might combust," you joke to Moira, who fully understands the being at a party with your celebrity crush craziness. She seems to be avoiding Jason still but you're trying not to press.

“She likes Alex?” Moira hums, knowing that the man is technically attractive, but she just finds him sweet.

"I think most people in America who are attracted to men like Alex at least a little." But you just grin, shrugging one shoulder in faux innocence. "All I know is that she keeps asking about him and her voice gets all squeaky and pitchy when she does. So am I gonna intentionally throw them together like a meddling old granny? Of course I am."

She rolls her eyes and then freezes for a second before grabbing your arm. “Please don’t throw me with- uh, um—” she stops when Jason moves closer, within hearing. “Never mind.”

The way Moira just about freezes and Jason looks like a kicked puppy fully activates your bullshit meter, and you nab your best friend's hand. "C'mere," you insist. "I need help grabbing something from inside." You drag Moira inside before she can sputter a protest, and close the sliding glass door behind you. "Talk." You insist. "It's been weeks since the boob graze. Is it still making shit weird?"

“No……” she rolls her eyes and huffs before you practically growl at her. “No.” she insists when you look skeptical. “I fucked up, okay?” She hisses, grabbing your arm and turning you away from glass door so no one outside can read her lips. “I humiliated myself in front of him, so it’s best if I just never talk to him again.”

"I can't believe that." You shake your head, but lead her away from the windows to sit down at the table. "I'm sure it was a misunderstanding. Whatever it was."

She lets out snort. “I wish.” She sighs, shoulders slumping as she gives in. She’s been too embarrassed to say anything. “He- he came by the desk a couple of days ago.” She admits. “He asked me out.”

“Oh my god!” The massive screech you have to immediately smother is nothing like her reaction in any way. “I thought you would have been excited! Why aren’t you excited? You’ve had a crush on Jason for years!”

She closes her eyes and groans as she buries her face in her hands and mumbles something you don’t quite catch.

“Babe,” you reach forward to hold her hand. “You gotta use your big girl words and tell me what happened.”

She can’t help but laugh at your comment and sighs again. “Are you sure you want to know?” Her tone is playfully dramatic but you just wait, “I opened my mouth to answer him and guess who had just finished her Sprite.”

"That's it?" That's all? That can't be all! Your wrinkle your nose but tilt your head, trying to fully take in Moira's embarrassment. Because she clearly is. She's mortified just retelling the moment by half. "You burped? That's all?"

“Then I started laughing and ended up snorting.” She groans. “And I just…decided to run away.”

"But..." You lean forward and set your chin expectantly on your upturned palm. "You never gave him an answer."

“Seriously?” She huffs. “That’s what you’re focused on? Not that I completely embarrassed myself? I can’t even look at him, let along give him an answer to a question he has to regret.”

"Why in the hell would he regret asking you out?" Her hand is easy to catch in yours with all of her flailing, and you bring it back to the table to attempt reeling her in. "You're smart, sweet, hot as hell, and oh no! You're human, too. If he regrets asking you out just because you burped and got embarrassed then he's less than a quarter of the person I thought he was and it's him who should be embarrassed instead."

“Don’t be mad at him.” Even though she’s completely embarrassed and not maybe a little ashamed of her running away, she’s defending Jason. He doesn’t deserve you talking bad about him.

"I'm only going to be mad if he deserves it." That part, at least, deserves clarification. "But my bet is, he's either still waiting on that answer or he's mortified that he made you feel bad."

“There’s no way.” She doesn’t believe it for a second but it makes her feel slightly better. “I mean-“ she shakes her head, “he’s famous and gorgeous and smart…..”

"And he likes you, dumb ass." With the hand that isn't tightly gripping hers, you pinch Moira's arm and grin when she huffs at you to smother a laugh. "You should go talk to him. Apologize for being a weirdo and let him take you out."

“And what are you going to say when you’re wrong about something?” She demands, wanting to know when you became so fucking reasonable.

"I will apologize for meddling, and then meddle again very quickly after." As if to prove the point, or at least punctuate it, you press a kiss to the knuckles of her hand that you're still holding and wave toward the door. "But angel, that boy looked like a spurned hound dog out there. He's yearning, Moira Elizabeth Keene. Yearning!"

“He’s not yearning.” She huffs even if it does make her actually look outside at where Jason is staring into his drink like it will give him the secrets of the universe. “Is he?”

“That is not the face of a man who has all the things in life he wants,” you insist. Just because you said you were getting something, you get up from the table and take out The rest you had packed of things to throw in the grill. It’s not too early to start making lunch. “Yearning. Pining. Moping. Whatever you want to call it, he’s doing it. And if he asked you out then my guess is he’s wishing he’d at least gotten an answer.”

“Shit.” She sighs and hangs her head. “So you’re saying I should go talk to him?” She asks, even though she knows that’s exactly what you are saying.

“And more than that,” you wag a finger at her. “You should say yes.”

“Yes mom.” She groans and hangs her head for a moment before she takes a deep breath. “When this backfires, I’m blaming you.” She grumbles, walking to the door to go back outside.

"You're welcome," you hum at her back, waiting two beats before you follow so that she doesn't feel hustled.

Moira bites her lip, happy that she hadn’t had anything to drink yet as she slowly approaches Jason. “Hey…” she murmurs softly.

Startled by what is definitely the first time ever that Moira has spoken to him first, Jason looks around in every direction before pointing at his own chest. "Hey me?"

She huffs out a small laugh before letting it die in her throat and swallows. “Yeah, you.” She nods. “Um—”

"Do you wanna..." He nods his head away from the pool where there is a little privacy. "Walk?"

“Sure, yeah- I mean—” she shakes her head again. “I think we should talk.” She manages.

Jason's normally easy smile has been absent the last few days, and he chews on his lip as he shoves his hands in the pockets of his shorts. He's just going to savor walking beside her and soak up her aura and he'll nurse his surprisingly devastated broken heart in private. "Yeah," he nods his head. "Sure."

Both of them are awkward and Moira lets Jason lead here wherever he wants to out, even though it’s just on the other side of the pool so far. “I-- I’m sorry.” She blurts out after the silence between them starts driving her insane.

"It's okay." He shakes his head, jumping onto the apology like Steve Rogers onto that grenade in Captain America. "You're not interested. I—it's fine. I get it."

“What? No! I mean, not no, I mean that I—” she sighs in frustration. “I’m sorry that I was so gross and just- burped and then laughed about it.”

He laughs reflexively, swallowing the chuckle when she looks genuinely upset about the whole thing. "I'm not one of those 'girls shouldn't have bodily functions' kind of assholes," he tells her, hands squirming where they are still shoved in his pockets. He wants to reach out and reassure her but can't be certain the gesture would be acceptable. "I was more upset when you Road Runner-ed out of the room like a rocket was after you."

Relief rushed through her like a tsunami and she manages to laugh. “I had just made a complete ass out of myself in front of Jason Grant.” She reminds him. “God, I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.”

The shade of pink that overtakes Jason's cheeks is nearly cartoonish. "I don't see why it should matter," he mumbles, one hand combing through his hair nervously. "I just...I like you. A lot. And I thought maybe you might like me too..."

“You—” Moira frowns. “You still want to go out with me?” She can’t react to that ‘a lot’ part, otherwise she’ll start squealing.

Jason just shrugs. "If I was gonna give up just because we're both human enough to be awkward around each other then I never deserved a chance in the first place." It's the first time in days that a smile returns to his lips, and he blushes even harder because of it. "Plus...ya know...you're cute when you do that laughing-snort thing."

“Really?” It’s her turn to fluster, completely floored by the fact that this man, this gorgeous man, is blushing and thinks she’s cute. “I— don’t—” she laughs nervously and does the little snort, which only makes her laugh harder. “I didn’t— d-do that on pur-purpose!” She promises while giggling.

The full, bashful smile that blossoms on Jason’s face is beaming. “I know.” There is a chance, he hopes, and he gently touches her arm with barely enough fingers to count as his hand. “That’s why I like it. It’s just…you.”

The giggles calm down, sobered by the look on his face that could only be described as yearning. She’s never going to hear the end of this. “I—” she licks her lips and can’t help but laugh at herself again. “If this was a movie, this would be the scene where I don’t answer you, I just throw myself at you and kiss you.” She admits. “But since this isn’t a movie…” she smiles back at him. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

“It can be a movie if you want it to be.” He’s teasing — probably — mostly because he’ll do whatever he can to get her to keep looking at him like that. But he’s just ecstatic to have gotten a yes, so he’s not going to push his luck. “Tomorrow? Or is—is that too soon?”

She nods, grinning because she feels a little more confident knowing that Jason still wants to go out with her and apparently wants a kiss. “Tomorrow’s good, tonight is better.” She admits. “What better date than a Hollywood party?” She teases, gesturing around the back yard. “This is my kind of date.”

He had a whole thing planned. A romantic picnic, flowers, stargazing. He’ll save the plan for date number two. “Then this is perfect,” he agrees, opening up the hand that was just touching her arm in invitation. She can take it if she wants — and he hopes she will — or he’ll go as slow as she wants him to. All that matters is that she’s giving him a shot.

It’s like something out of a fairy tale and she presses her lips together to keep from squealing. “If I- uh- pinch myself occasionally….” She ventures. “Don’t think anything of it. Just making sure this isn’t some kind of Inception dream.”

“How about you pinch me and I’ll pinch you?” It comes out just a tad flirtier than he meant it to, but he doesn’t correct himself or apologize. She’s said yes — he’s going to flirt. “Just to make sure we’re both awake.”

“Well you can just pinch me whenever and wherever you want.” She’s bolder now, especially with the way that he’s eyeing her. Now she can let herself believe those looks are actually meant for her.

Jason smirks, scoops her to his side with an arm around her waist, and pinches her side playfully. “Good to know,” he hums, grinning like he just won the lottery.

“I’m sorry I pulled a Houdini and just left you hanging.” She admits. “I should have tried to say something.”

“We’re only human.” He gives her side a squeeze, still smiling. “I’m just glad you said yes, even if I had to wait to hear it.”

“I guess that I just didn’t believe that you would want to go out with me.” She admits. “And I just got stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” He would argue that point with her if necessary, but for now he shakes his head and starts to lead her back to the party. “But you are cute when you blush. For the record.”

“And you’re just…cute all the time.” She huffs, her arm sliding around his back cautiously. Still slightly overwhelmed that she can touch him.

“Are we going to get into one-ups-manship this early in the relationship?” He raises an eyebrow at her, and suppresses a little shiver of excitement. The early stages are full of the thrills of new attraction and he’s been pining since the very first day of filming. “Noted.”

She bites her lip and hums as she motions towards the bar. “Let’s get a drink.”

Alex is at the bar when Jason and Moira wander over with their arms around each other, and he smirks but momentarily suppresses his impulse to tease mercilessly. “This is gonna be the party house,” he observes instead, waving his hand at the way the full bar is set up. “They really went all out.”

“Yeah they did.” Jason can easily agree and he looks down at Moira. “This is the perfect place to socialize without worrying about paps.”

"And the place isn't even fully gated yet." Moira accepts the glass of sangria that Jason pours for her with a blushing grin. Have you guys heard about the plans yet?" Now that the secret is out in the open, she doesn't mind sharing anymore. Especially since you're so delighted with the house that Javi is building for you.

“Nothing.” Alex huffs, pouting slightly. “I’ve been trying to get Javi to crack, I know the man has taste, but he’s not said a word.”

"He wanted to show her first." Your best friend nods in your direction, where you're laughing by the other end of the pool with Tamara and a woman with pink hair that she's never met before. That must be the cousin you mentioned.

“Who is that?” Alex drops the rag he was holding and leans in, eyes narrowing as he looks at the new addition to the party.

"Her cousin, I think?" Moira's head whips back around to see Alex practically gawping and she has to cover her mouth to cover a snorting laugh. "She ran into her cousin a couple of weeks ago and they've been hanging out again." Is Moira your best friend? Of course. She doesn't doubt that for a second. But she also knows that this friendship is older and complicated, and has been consciously giving you the space to work through any complications.

“Her cousin, huh?” Alex is a flirt, a social butterfly, but this girl just draws him in naturally. “I swear I’ve seen her before somewhere.”

"Do you ever shop at Sew Far, So Good in Burbank?" Moira asks, stifling another giggle at the idea of hulking movie star Alex Powell with knitting needles.

Alex snaps his fingers. “That’s where she’s from!” He snorts before he rolls his eyes at Moira. “I buy my yarn online, Moi.” He teases, looking back over at Billie.

"What fucking yarn?" Jason demands, though he is doing nothing at all to hold in his laughter.

Alex flips Jason a bird and huffs before he mutters under his breath.

"Alex," Moira's grin spreads. "Do you have secret crafty grandma tendencies?"

“No.” Alex crosses his arms over his chest defensively. “I just— I occasionally go down to the nursing home near my apartment and let the ladies teach me how to crochet.” He confesses, blushing furiously.

"That..." Moira and Jason exchange a bewildered look of surprise and she looks back at Alex with an entirely new perspective on the man in front of her. She knew he was sweet, but this is a whole extra level to things. "Is incredibly nice of you, actually."

He looks genuinely embarrassed by the compliment. “It’s fun.” He promises. “They get to teach me something and socialize.” He shrugs. “And they don’t care if my latest movie flopped or not.”

“And when their granddaughters visit, they try to set you up?” Jason guesses. “I used to go play chess with the grumpy grandpas in Central Park between shows when I was on Broadway. They started bringing their granddaughters around after a while. It got slightly uncomfortable.” He shrugs. “Hopefully your thing doesn’t get like that.”

“Hope not.” Alex shakes his head. “I think a lot of them don’t talk to their family. Or not a lot.” He sighs, hating that for them. They are a good group of ladies.

Jason nods solemnly, as if he knows that situation all too well, and Moira reaches out to give Alex’s arm a tender squeeze. “It’s even sweeter, then. That they have someone to come and visit them.”

“Let’s uh, just keep that between the three of us, okay?” Alex isn’t ashamed of what he does, but he doesn’t want it interrupted.

“Sure.” Moira and nods at the same time Jason says, “Of course.” They all know that if any media outlet got ahold of that portion of Alex’s life it would be ruined with unwanted attention, so mum’s the word.

"They probably should." Alex admits. His laughs is heartier this time. Fuller. "Alright. I guess I should give it another go, huh?"

“Yeah.” Javi grins. “Apologize first. Then explain.”

"Sounds like the right order to me." It sounds like it's going to be fumbling as hell, but that's okay. If humbling himself in front of that goddess is what it takes to talk to her again? He'll do it.

Javi stands when Alex does and he dutifully takes the empty beer bottle after the other man finishes it. Smirking slightly as he tells Alex that Billie is in the bedroom and walks with him just as far as you are standing.

Billie is adjusting the tie on her bikini when a knock sounds on the door. She's inspecting herself in the mirror to make sure that everything is tied properly and she didn't miss any smears of sunscreen, and wonders if you've come up to talk about Alex some more. "Come on in."

Alex opens the door halfway, poking his head in. “Hi.” He clears his throat. “Can I, um, come in?” He asks, wanting to make sure that she didn’t want to talk with him somewhere else.

"Oh!" That is a hundred percent not who she was expecting, and considering she was planning on spending the rest of the afternoon avoiding him? She's not really sure what to do now. "Uh...if you were looking for my cousin, she hasn't come upstairs."

“I know.” He doesn’t come into the room any more, but he does push the door open a little wider. “I came to talk to you.” He tells her, “to apologize.”

"Oh..." The same small word but with such a different meaning behind it this time. Billie looks around, but it's just them up in the bedroom you and Javi share. Probably better that there are no witnesses for this, she reflects vaguely. "Yeah. Okay. Go ahead..."

“I wasn’t trying to hit on you.” Alex promises before he immediately takes it back. “I mean, I was but I was trying to flirt with you. Playfully, um- and my stupid manager said that women liked the character voice so I figured I would give it a shot, since I was nervous.” He doesn’t rush through his explanation, but he is talking fast like he’s racing a teleprompter. “That being said, I’m sorry that I caused any hurt feelings or upset.” He switched orders on the explanation and apology, but Javi doesn’t have to know that. “I got nervous and stupid.”

“I walked away because I have no interest in being anybody’s one night stand.” Billie hears him. She does. And frankly she appreciates the fuck out of an actual apology even if it’s a little twisted around. “From the way you were starting out, it sounded like — or it felt like — that was what you were going for. So I apologize too, if I assumed wrongly.”

“I don’t…really…like one night stands.” Alex admits. “They feel a little dirty? Like I’m shorting myself of getting to know someone.” He shakes his head. “No excuse, except that I was trying to make a good impression.” He chuckles, flashing a small smile. “Fucked that up.” He sighs and wipes his hands on his trunks. “So, yeah. I’m sorry, and I’ll leave you alone now.”

“Hey Hollywood.” It’s a little trite, but a treating cliche every now and then never hurt anybody. Plus, he turns around so the little tease did its job. “You could get to know me now, if you still wanted to.”

“Yeah?” His face lights up, eyes widening in surprise and gratitude that she is willing to talk to him for another moment. “I’d like that.” He promises.

"Did I miss any sunscreen on my back?" It takes a small act of bravery to ask him to possibly touch her when she knows full well that the last time he did, it almost turned her legs to jelly. But she's feeling bold now that things have been cleared up between them.

He hesitates before he nods. “There’s a big patch missing right in the middle.” He admits. “Do you want me to—”

"Can't very well do it myself," she pauses a second after saying it and laughs. "Obviously. Or it wouldn't be there." She turns slightly, willing herself not to freak out, and waves him over. "Would you mind?"

“Yes madam.” He nods and flashes another grin as he rushes over and grabs the tube of sunscreen. “Hold still, I’ll get you all lotioned up.”

"Thanks." Billie swallows thickly and turns her face away from the mirror, telling herself not to watch. That feels a little too much like the beginning of a porn.

Alex squirts some of the lotion on his hands and rubs them together to warm it up. He knows he hates cold suntan cream. “Here we go.” He murmurs softly, so she can expect to feel him. He bites his lips to keep from groaning at the innocent touch, but her skin is so soft and warm that he has to remind himself that she thinks he’s a tool already and not to embarrass himself.

For her part, Billie feels like she’s about to spontaneously combust the second he touches her, but she hides her face and manages not to make a sound and frankly? That is top notch self-restraint in her book.

“You have soft skin.” Alex comments, before he huffs at himself in annoyance. “I mean—”

Billie barely stifles a giggle. “It’s okay. I mean— I know you’re not a dick now.”

“You make me nervous.” He chuckles softly, relaxing because she isn’t stiffening up or taking it in offense.

“Any particular reason for that?” Her hair isn’t long enough that she needs to move it out of the way, but it gives her something to do with her hands. Something besides twist her fingers around each other over and over again because she’s nervous too.

He snorts softly. “You’re gorgeous.” He tells her, “but you know that. More importantly? You have this…aura.” He never talks about this kind of thing, since people will look at him like he’s crazy. “You seem like you are an amazing person and I – I don’t know.” He admit. “I just know I don’t want to fuck up - again.”

“Hell of a way to flatter a girl.” Her cheeks are as red as they can possibly get when she glances over her shoulder at him, and she wonders if she’s imagining that he’s blushing as well. “Should have led with that, gorgeous. Then we could have skipped the awkwardness.”

He hums, grinning slightly and shrugs. “Hopefully there’s no lasting harm from being a dumb man.” He jokes. “You know we are simple creatures.”

“I might tease you about it a little,” she admits, smile blossoming a little wider on her face. “But that’s only funny if we like…actually end up dating or something. Then it’s a cute story.”

“So why don’t you go on a date with me?” She opened the door and he’s gonna bust through like the Kool-aid man if possible. “Make it that cute story.” His hands are still rubbing her back, even though the cream is worked in.

Billie’s eyes widen and she swallows a hiccup of surprise. “Seriously?”

His hands still before he reaches up for her shoulders to gently turn her around. “Seriously.”

“But—” The protest is inarticulate, practically tripping over her lips as she lets it tumble out. “You—you could date anyone. Literally anyone you wanted to?”

His brow furrows slightly, confused by her reaction. “And I would like to go on a date with you.” He stresses. “Unless you aren’t interested?”

“Oh no, I am.” That probably came out way too fast, but there’s nothing she can do about it now. “I just…it’s a little…” Billie blows out a sigh. “It’s a little surreal, honestly? Like I’ve got a magazine with your face on it in my kitchen table at home and actual you is helping me with sunscreen and asking me out in my cousin’s bedroom.”

“Have you ever seen someone and just…instantly knew they were going to be important to you?” Alex asks, staring at her seriously.

“Once.” She nods slowly. “But it felt…silly.”

“Why is that?” He frowns and wonders if she’s had her heart broken.

“Well…” Even though she’s standing right in front of him with his hands still on her shoulders and the smell of whatever cologne he favors hanging in the air, she feels embarrassed enough to spontaneously combust when she admits, “because you were on a movie screen at the time. It’s not like I’d ever met you. Not…at that point, anyway.”

“Really?” Alex’s eyes widen in surprise before he breaks into a happy smile. Looking just like that human Labrador that you had claimed he was.

“Don’t get cocky on me again, Hollywood.” Billie huffs, but it’s clear now that that little sound of impetuousness is just for show. “I like the sweet, silly version of you a lot better.”

“I can be sweet.” He promises. “I’m just really happy.” He confesses easily. “Happy I didn’t completely bomb out.” He chuckles at himself now.

“I am too.” It would have been a hell of a disappointment, if she’s honest. And she wasn’t looking forward to living with that. “But we should probably go back down? Swim a little? Have a bite?”

“That sounds good to me.” He nods and smiles again. “We can decide when and where we are going on the date later on.” He tells her before stepping back and opening the door. “After you.” He offers.

When they make it back down to the patio, the air smells like grilled meat and there is dance music playing — something pop-ish with a salsa beat that Billie doesn’t recognize but people seem to be enjoying. Frankly she doesn’t really care. She’s just floating on a happy little cloud right now and not too much in the world could ever hope to pop it.

Alex meets both Javi and your concerned looks and gives a small nod and an even smaller wink. His hand drifting to Billie’s back as he guides her towards the outdoor kitchen. “Thirsty or hungry?” He asks.

“Thirsty,” she decides, mostly because she can see the grill from here and the burgers look like they just went on. “Is that okay with you?”

“Perfect.” He decides to grab a bottle of water since he’s already had two beers. Not wanting to spend the day getting wasted. “What do you want?”

“I think I saw iced tea earlier?” From past his shoulder she can see you trying and failing not to spy on them and she flashes you a thumbs up.

“Tea sounds good.” Alex moves over to the drinks and spies the pitcher with the lemons and ice in it. “I think this is it.”

“She used to dream about throwing parties like this.” Her tone is a little wistful but she’s smiling when Alex hands her a glass of iced tea. “And bigger. The bigger, the better.”

“And from what Javi’s told us, he’s thrown some huge parties.” Alex chuckles. “So I expect they will have people over all the time.”

“Good.” Billie likes the sound of that, still of the mind that you deserve nothing but your dreams. “That’s exactly what she loves and she’ll have so much fun.”

“They are perfect for each other.” Alex’s pang of jealousy isn’t quite as pronounced as it normally is. Excited for a date with Billie overriding that.

“Soulmates.” She smiles and sips her tea. “They’re lucky that they found each other.”

“Yes they are.” Alex sighs softly, wishing that somehow he would just know when he met his soulmate. If it could just be that easy, it would be amazing.

"It's not the only way to be happy, though." She sees the look on his face. It isn't hard to tell that that is what he wants. And for a second she wonders if dating is a waste if they don't have matching marks.

“No, it’s not.” His gaze shifts back to her and he’s hit with that same certainty that she is important to him. “Tell me, what’s your version of a perfect date?” He asks innocent enough except he’s grinning.

“Live music.” They start to wander toward the pool. “Food that’s either not good for you or something totally new.” She thinks for a second and grins guiltlessly. “Has to at least end with a kiss. But preferably that part starts somewhere in the middle.”

“Good food and live music.” He hums. “Sounds like a good dive bar and a band.” He turns his head and winks at her. “Kissing is always acceptable.”

“There’s something to be said for enjoying life—” she starts to say, but finds herself cut off by the unexpected and complete change in the mood of the party after a shriek sounds from the far edge of the pool.

Alex’s head snaps up, but it’s not in anxiety. That shriek is one of happiness and joy. He sees Jason and Moira, touching and kissing frantically and he shakes his head. “Holy shit.” He huffs. “I did not see that coming.”

“What happened?” Billie missed it, whatever it was, but hears you squeal in equal joy just a second later.

“Oh my God! Oh my God!”

“They are soulmates.” It’s the only logical conclusion and he chuckles at the starstruck look on his friend’s face.

“Two sets at one party?” Billie half-laughs, but feels a sting regardless. Quiet jealousy, but it’s still there.

He hears the undercurrent in her voice. The same longing that was probably in his own if he was honest. “Only thing that could make it better is if it was three.” He jokes.

Billie hums, sure there’s no chance, but offers him a smile anyway. “That would make it a hell of a party.”

“Yeah it would.” He feels like she’s not interested in discovering that, so he touches her back. “Why don’t we go say congrats?” He asks. “You know Moira, right?

“We just met today, actually.” She takes his hand when he offers it. It’s a sweet gesture that she appreciates. “But we should still go and say congratulations.”

“You are just meeting all kinds of new people today, aren’t you?” He squeezes her hand gently.

“I seem to be,” she agrees with a small laugh, ready to be swallowed up by the celebrating.

Alex guides her over to the group, not letting go of Billie’s hand, but he throws his other arm around Jason when he reaches him. “Holy shit! I knew it!” He lies, laughing the entire time as he pounds his costar on the back.

"I'm glad someone did!" Jason is crying ecstatic tears, refusing to let go of Moira by accepting the hug as easily as the whirlwind around him. "Because I sure didn't!"

Alex laughs and lets go of his friend to move towards Moria, still holding onto Billie as he folds her into a hug. “Congratulations, beautiful.” He murmurs. “He’s a good man.”

"It's just so crazy." Moira's tears are more of a watery eyes situation and she's sniffling away anything more as she laughs in continuous disbelief. "it's completely crazy."

“Crazy and perfect.” Alex insists with another quick hug before he steps back and draws Billie into his side. “Just like this entire movie has been.”

"I knew I had a good feeling about you guys for a reason." After ducking back into the house to grab champagne, you have reappeared by the pool with the bottle in hand. "This is absolutely cause to celebrate."

“Ohhhh! Let me go get the glasses!” Billie volunteers, wanting to help with the festivities. Maybe it will squelch the tug of jealousy in her.

"Cupboard to the left of the sink!" You call after your retreating cousin's back, just in case she's forgotten.

Alex watches her walk back into the house before he turns back to Jason with a wide grin. “So are you getting married today?” He asks them with a chuckle.

"This group of friends has already had one on-the-spot wedding." Jason laughs, though he leans down and kisses Moira's forehead softly. "Maybe next week."

“It worked for us.” Javi chuckles, taking the champagne bottle from you when you want him to open it. “But I like to think we are special.”

"Very special," you hum, leaning in to kiss him before he fusses with the champagne.

Billie comes back with the glasses while Tamara scoots next to Alex. “Sooooo.” Her voice is dripping with humor. “The cousin, huh?”

"Yeah." Alex smirks an raises an eyebrow at her. "And?"

“Nothing.” She shrugs innocently. “Nothing at all.”

"C'mon Tam-Tam," Alex laughs. "You can say it. What's on your mind?"

She rolls her eyes playfully, but she reaches out to touch his arm. “You look like you’re halfway in love already.”

Unashamed, Alex casts his eyes back toward where Billie is handing out glasses of bubbly with you while Javi pours. "Maybe," he admits dreamily. "She's...I can't explain it. She's special, Tam."

“Wow.” His confession makes her eyes widen and even if she is cautious, she won’t try to dim the light in his eyes. “Good for you.” She murmurs honestly.

"Besides," Alex laughs, nudging his friend. "At this rate, we'll all have met our soulmates before filming wraps."

“Oh I doubt it.” Personal doubt had her scoffing, but like everyone else, she wants to find her person. Soulmate or not. “But it’s a nice thought.”

“You’ll find your person.” Alex loops an arm around her and hugs her to his side. “Or people. Who knows? Maybe you’re lucky enough to have two.”

That makes her laugh. “No one has two.” She huffs. “Not at the same time at least. And I’ve only ever heard of a few cases where someone gets another soulmate after their first one dies.”

“My point,” he nudges her again. “Is don’t give up.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She knows he’s meaning well, but it makes her uneasy. With the billions of people on the planet, how is she supposed to find her one? “I won’t, but I’m not gonna focus on me, tonight.” She nods towards Jason and Moira. “My guy looks like he just won an Oscar.”

“He feels like he did.” Or, at least, Alex knows that’s how he would feel if he was in the same circumstance. “Good for them. They’re sweet. And they’ve been dancing around each other for months.”

“I’ve been telling Jason to ask her out.” Tamara rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t listen.”

“You know how he is.” When you appear beside your friends with glasses of champagne for them, you’re all smiles and good cheer. “He’s shy when he’s not sure of something. But he doesn’t need to be shy anymore.”

“No, no he doesn’t.” His eyes are on Billie, smiling as she talks with Moira. “He’s lucky.” He admits, hoping that he could be as confident as Jason with her, even if she isn’t his soulmate.

“He’s not the only one, ya know.” The meddling grin on your face is unmistakable. “You guys like a lot of the same music, but the way.”

“That’s good.” He shrugs innocently. “So I can hope I pick a good live band when I take her out.”

Immediately, you light up with excitement. “Did you already ask??”

“Yeah.” He blushes a little. “When we were in your room, and I was groveling.”

“Good boy!” You squeak with happy approval and practically dance from all the excitement today. “She’s the best. You’re going to have such a good time.”

“She doesn’t understand why I was nervous, but she accepted my apology.” He hums, grinning at you.

"Be as good of a date to her as you are a friend to the rest of us, and you'll be just fine."

“Oh, I will be better.” Alex winks at you. “You missed out.” He teases. “You coulda had all this but you had to find your soulmate.”

"You'll have to make it up to me by being amazing to my cousin." He gets another squeeze from you and a beaming smile. You have a good feeling about this.

“I have to be.” He huffs, shooting you a wide eyed look of terror. “You’ll kick my ass if I don’t!”

"Damn right!" You flash him a wink and stride away again, ready to hug the shit out of your best friend all over again, then tuck yourself under your own soulmate's arm.

“I can’t believe you are my soulmate.” Jason murmurs again, his thumb sweeping over the small patch of skin that tells the world the two of them belong together. “We’ve been around each other for weeks and wasted so much time.”

"It wasn't wasted," Moira insists, though her arms are up around his neck like they never would have been even yesterday. She'd taken off her suit cover and slipped into the pool and Jason had seen the lily tattooed on her hip, the small memorial of her grandmother that she had had for years. And now here they are. "Because we had that time we know things about each other. We know we get along. We have mutual friends. That's not a waste at all."

“Not a waste.” He concedes, albeit a bit begrudgingly. “I want you to move in with me.” He tells her quickly. “We can wait for sex, however long you want, but I want to sleep beside you. Hold you.”

Moira laughs, not because anything he said was wrong or necessary funny, but because she can feel the change in the air already. "You think we're going to be able to sleep next to each other and not have sex?" She poses, smirking at him.

“No.” He admits, grinning even though his voice is a little raspy. “But I didn’t want you to think I expected it.” He shrugs. “I was just hoping you’d jump me in my sleep.”

“If I’m going to jump you, I’d vastly prefer you to be awake,” she laughs, but she’s pulling him in for a kiss all the same.

His own laugh is cut short by her lips. Serious when he draws her closer, feeling like he will never get enough.

Even the little kisses so far have been deep and sweet, and this one is no exception. It’s like the little part of her that’s been missing was in him the whole time and she doesn’t know how she didn’t see it before.

Jason pulls back after a moment and presses his forehead against hers. “This is the best day of my life.”

“Already?” She teases. She’s breathless every time she gets to kiss him but now that they’re real soulmates she feels lighter than air. “The day is barely half over. There’s so much more to go.”

“It feels like it can only get better from here.” He laughs. “But how? When right now is perfect?”

“I guess we’re just going to have to see what happens next.” Moira says. But really? It would take a hell of a lot for this day to get any better.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

TUWOP: @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981 @sunnytuliptime @iamladyp @spishsstuff @famouslyanonymous

[crooked-sketches]

Please read the full post!

Thank you all so much for the amazing response received for this project! To date, an astounding 30 artists have joined! I could never have expected that kind of response so soon, so I have decided to close the signups early and move forward with the next steps!

Who will we be drawing?

The one and only...

India!!!

Introducing, in order, the artists participating!

@aphfroghat  2. @samrut 3. @ashafox 4. @Winteree 5. @doomspiral 6. @maibluemen 7. @the-heaminator 8. @itstokkii 9. @paperuniverse 10. @ama-the-weeb 11. @j-ellyfish 12. @chaoshiki 13. @viktuurishipper96 14. @theheroinewashere 15. @solareeluna 16. @dis-mr-slovenia 17. @noonartist 18. @umahumahumah 19. @f0rgetf0rgetting 20. @ellmovy 21. @loverboylen 22. @Sukno-enjoyer 23. @k3llyb3an 24. @arnikaaa 25. @currybowls-blog 26. @gybas-blog 27. @aurum-cat 28. @dapotatoauthor 29. @spadeset 30. @lecirueblr

Remember, if you no longer wish to participate or need to pull out for whatever reason please dm me!

Wooo! Now what?

I will draw the starter drawing, blur it, and send it along to the first artist in line! Then, when they are finished, they will send the drawing back to me so I can blur it and send it to the next artist. Who will then send it back to me and so on and so forth.

How will we send you the drawing?

Since the quality in Tumblr dm's is, quite frankly, ass, the drawings will be sent to me via either Discord or email. Depending on your preferences please ask me for my @ or email address via DM.

Remember, each artist has two weeks! But you are welcome to send it to me early if you finish before the two weeks are up!

Some quick rules

The minimum required for your drawing is a lined and coloured piece. NO sketches and NO black and white. Fully rendered pieces are very much appreciated, but lined and flat colour is perfectly fine.

Digital art is preferred however if you intend to do traditional art PLEASE make sure that when you send me the picture of your work that it is scanned and not a simple photograph for maximum clarity.

I will be using a canvas size of 3000 x 3500 for the initial drawing, please keep a similar ratio so that they will all fit nicely on the final graphic!

when it is your turn, I will send you a dm on Tumblr or whichever communication method you prefer. If I receive no response/indication that you have seen the message after one week, your turn will be skipped. Sending updates on your progress isn't obligatory but it is appreciated!

My Dm's are always open for questions of any kind! Or even if you just want to stop by and chat!

Finally, a personal message from the mod.

I really cannot thank all of you enough. You all make the community a little better with every piece of art you post.

This project comes at a very difficult time for me. As well as having some personal issues, my family in Lebanon barely managed to escape the war with their lives, they got out but their neighbourhood is gone and the fate of many family friends remains uncertain. Our family in Venezuela is also severely struggling during this time of unrest, and we are not always able to contact them. I decided to host this project now because Hetalia has always been a deep comfort of mine and has helped me through many personal issues in the past. I longed for a sense of community and wanted to interact with more of you all. I could not have imagined so many of you would be interested in my small passion project, especially so many artists and creators who I have looked up to for years.

In addition to this, I wanted to thank all of you who hold Lebanon, Palestine, and Venezuela in your hearts during this time. It warms my heart whenever I see people in the Hetalia community (many of whom are participating here with us!) uplifting fundraisers, charities, and honest discussion about these events.

Perhaps you don't really care about this small message, but it was important to me to say it.

If you reached this far, comment with a ❣️ and I can't wait to see y'all amazing works!

[crazycartoonnerd123]

I made a post like this on TikTok already, but I’m also gonna make one here too because I feel like ranting.

The Owl House: Such a great show with a BIPOC main character who is also bisexual and a fantastic plot line. It provides people with needed representation that makes them feel seen and discusses serious topics that people face in real life. It has a loyal and committed fan base and phenomenal ratings. All factors considered, it should be safe from cancellation.

*Gets cancelled and S3 gets shortened and 2 out of 3 of the episodes were leaked because it “didn’t fit the Disney brand”

The Ghost and Molly McGee: Another fantastic show with a Thai main character that was able to nearly perfectly balance a fun and entertaining episodic structure but still tackle serious and realistic themes and issues people face in real life. It also has great characters and representation, and, in theory, should “fit the Disney brand.”

*Due to lack of promotion and marketing, one of the episode releases on Disney+ kinda flops, and as a result, the show gets cancelled even though the next release had better numbers, thus causing the show to end prematurely. The third season would have dealt with topics such as death and loss and the first 10 scripts were already written*

Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur: A fantastic show that has (in my personal opinion) THE BEST representation a Disney show has ever had that manages to tackle serious topics and issues people have to face every day. It is able to mix the elements of a serialized and episodic show almost seamlessly and has already won a ton of awards and had over a dozen nominations cumulative.

*Literally never gets promoted, they release half of the season at one time without said promotion, and now the fate of the show rests on the performance of the 14 episode drop on February 2nd and 3rd AND they’re releasing 2 episodes a week on Disney channel and if it doesn’t do well it will get cancelled*

And this isn’t even close to the entire list of shows that have screwed over. (Referring to the leaks of Amphibia and other shows).

In conclusion,

STOP SCREWING OVER YOUR SHOWS DISNEY!!!

[thedarlingdearestdead]

I'm scared:

Summary: Obi Wan and reader are fellow Jedi who grew up together and are now both on the council. A trip to the halls of healing brings up some feelings...

Warnings: None, pretty fluffy, bit angsty, a bit of talk of violence but otherwise fairly normal.

Word count: 1,992

"Alright, council adjourned," Master Windu said, his deep voice resonating through the dimly lit chamber as he wrapped up the discussion on war plans. The Jedi Council members gathered around the large circular table began to rise from their seats, their expressions a mixture of solemnity and determination. As they dispersed slowly, the room buzzed with hushed conversations and the clinking of lightsabers being adjusted for the battles that loomed on the horizon.

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief, grateful for the respite. The weight of responsibility had been pressing on your shoulders for days now, and any moment of peace was a blessing. Hastily, you stood up from your chair, eager to leave the council chambers, but before you could make your escape, a firm grip closed around your arm. It was Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"Not so quick, Master L/N," he said, his voice calm and composed amidst the chaos. "You're scheduled for a medical check-up."

You frowned, puzzled. "Why do you know that, and I don't?"

Obi-Wan's blue eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement. "I had my own check-up this morning, and they mentioned your appointment to me."

"Isn't that a breach of doctor-patient confidentiality?" you grumbled, reluctantly following him out of the imposing council chamber and into the well-trodden corridors of the Jedi Temple.

He chuckled softly. "Not when the doctor is a busy droid."

"Very well, then, Kenobi," you said, resigned to your fate. “How was your appointment? Are you physically fit? Have you recovered from your very long list of injuries - broken ribs, fingers, fractured wrist, cracked skull, and blood poisoning?” You counted them on your fingers in jest.

Obi-Wan smiled wryly. "Just about. Enough to be cleared for active duty. How did you even find out about the ribs? Anakin swore he wouldn't tell."

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I suspect your Padawan isn't as tight-lipped as you might think."

"Mmmh," he replied, his voice tinged with amusement as he continued guiding you down the corridor.

"You don't need to escort me to the hospital wing, you know," you quipped. "I am perfectly capable of finding my way around the building that I've grown up in and inhabited all my life."

Obi-Wan appeared genuinely surprised at your protest. "I'm not escorting; I'm accompanying. I want to see whether you've recovered from the smashed kneecap, severe laser burns, concussion, and broken toes."

You couldn't help but wonder how he knew about the concussion. "Rex?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes."

You huffed in frustration as you arrived at the sterile entrance of the medical bay. Of course Rex had ratted you out, the gossiping fiend. You would be sure to give him a telling off later on. Once inside, you were promptly ushered into the scanning chamber. Through the transparent glass, you shot Obi-Wan a pointed look, and gestured for the droids to get the examination over with.

Master Che, the Jedi healer in charge of the medical bay, walked into the room with a holopad in hand, her brow furrowing as she registered Obi-Wan's unexpected presence. "I thought I dismissed you this morning! Force, I don't think I've ever seen you in here voluntarily.”

Obi-Wan's cheeks tinged with a faint blush, caught off guard by her remark, while you couldn't help but laugh at his expense. "I only came because you mentioned Master Y/N's appointment. I had to be sure she would keep it.”

"You're just as bad as each other," Master Che remarked, her tone a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "I thank you, Kenobi. Be assured I will not try to hold you here any longer.”

To everyone's surprise, Obi-Wan seemed unusually reluctant to leave. He hesitated, his eyes fixed on you. "I don't mind the wait.”

Master Che furrowed her brow, perplexed by this unusual behaviour but ultimately had more pressing matters to attend to. "Very well, then. Master Y/N, your knee looks to be healing well, but I would like to discuss your head injury with you. You really ought not to be back on missions so soon..."

You listened to her words, a feeling of frustration building within you. The war had demanded so much of the Jedi, and the weight of your duties often left you with little choice but to push your physical and mental limits. You exchanged a knowing glance with Obi-Wan, who stood nearby, his presence offering silent support.

You sighed, knowing that Master Che was right but also knowing that the urgency of the war often left no room or time for personal well-being. "I'll consider it, Master Che," you replied, offering her a small, weary smile.

Master Che nodded, her expression disapproving. "I do understand your persistence, Master Y/N. But you must remember that even Jedi have their limits.” This was not something you liked to be reminded of. 

The medical bay's antiseptic aura couldn't conceal the impatience and turmoil which grew in your heart as the droids carried out their examinations. The air was heavy with the scent of bacta and the soft hum of machinery, and you couldn't help but feel like a wounded starship in need of repair. Obi-Wan, ever the silent sentinel, watched from outside the glass partition with a reassuring smile. You had always hated the halls of healing the both of you did whatever you could to avoid them, having spent far too long confined to these rooms in your youth to have the stomach for it as adults. Adults who had better things to do than lie down and worry about some minor bruises and scrapes. 

After the droids completed their scans, you were freed from the sterile confines of the examination chamber. Master Che offered her final words of caution regarding your head injury, then returned to her duties. Clearly expecting to see you in a few days and resigned to your lack of personal care and self preservation. Obi-Wan fell into step beside you, waving cheekily to the doctor who thought even worse of his habits. He was a comforting presence amidst the uncomfortable halls, and it was reassuring not to be Master Che’s worst patient. 

Walking together through the echoing corridors of the Jedi Temple, you both knew that these turbulent times and great battles tested your resolve like never before. Physically and mentally perhaps you both were too flippant about the effects that it could have on you. The war was a tempest, and navigating its treacherous waters required more than just lightsabers and Force abilities; it required the strength of bonds forged through hardship. Bonds which were strong between you and your companion.

Breaking the silence, you confided in Obi-Wan, your voice a quiet murmur. "I sometimes wonder if our efforts make a difference at all. I feel I’ve hit a cycle and gotten caught up in it. I spend all my time constantly on the way to the hospital.”

Obi-Wan's gaze met yours, his eyes a reflection of the galaxies of thought swirling within him. His hand brushed against yours, a subtle, wordless gesture of solidarity. “I prefer to think I am constantly evading it.”

“But you don’t.”

“I am constantly trying to evade it then.”

“But you agree? There is far too much of a need for the halls of healing these days.” Your journey ended as you reached the entrance of your chambers, and you turned to Obi-Wan, heart pounding with a blend of trepidation and longing. "Obi-Wan, there's something I must confess."

He regarded you with curiosity, his eyes glowing like the distant stars. "What is it, Y/N?"

“I’m scared. I know I ought not be, I know it is not the Jedi way, I know I should trust in the force, in the council, in so many things but…” You trail off and breathe deeply. It was Obi Wan, you could continue… “I find it all so difficult lately.”

You could see the conflict in his face. Your perfect Jedi trying to comprehend your crisis of faith. Obi-Wan did not say a word. Instead he turned more directly towards you. He was scanning your face making it grow hot. Making doubt and fear grow in you by the second. Would he tell on you? Was he disgusted? Shamed? Instead of recoiling or accusing you though, you found him growing closer to you.

And suddenly he was on you. Hands reaching to cup your cheeks and holding you as you melt in to his kiss, the world seemed to stand still. It was a moment filled with the echoes of countless stars, a revelation of love that had remained hidden amidst the tumult of war.

The weight of your fears and doubts melted away. It was as if the Force itself had guided you to this moment, because here you felt it. You had not known the reassurance and certainty of the force since the war began but in that moment it was as all consuming as his touch.

Obi-Wan's kiss was a declaration, a promise that he would be there for you, he was that blinding, cosmic, inexplicable thing that once you had called the force. His lips were warm and tender against yours, a testament to the depth of his feelings. You responded with equal fervour, your hands finding their way to his waist, pulling him closer as if to never let go.

The echoes of the Jedi Council meeting and the chaos of war plans faded into the background. The fear of battles, of death, of destruction dissipated. That you could handle, that you would suffer for the price of this man and the love you shared, a love that had grown silently but was now impossible to ignore. It was a love that defied the darkness of the galaxy and illuminated your path forward.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and with your hearts beating in sync, Obi-Wan's forehead rested against yours. His eyes bore into yours, filled with a light which told you he felt the same. He was all understanding, he was all yours now. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion, "I want you to know that you're never alone in this journey. We may face uncertainty, but together, we can find the light in even the darkest of times. You don’t have to be scared.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, not tears of fear or doubt, but tears of joy and gratitude. “I thought you would be horrified by me.”

He kissed your forehead gently, his embrace warm and protective. "I have not known peace from my fear for years, it has been my constant companion. But when I am with you… I feel the stillness and peace of the force that I have not known since the war began.”

As you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that the love you shared was a beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the midst of war, love could conquer fear and uncertainty. And as you gazed into each other's eyes, you were filled with a sense of peace and determination, ready to face whatever the future held, hand in hand.

Stepping into your chambers, hand in hand, he became a source of strength in a galaxy consumed by chaos. Together, you were prepared to face life's fiercest challenges, for your love was a bond that transcended duty and destiny, a love that would shine as brilliantly as the stars for all eternity. Or so you hoped…

[skyeslittlecorner]

Reminiscent of old times | Young Kings, Gusion

I should write some introduction, but I don't have much to add. Just little children who deserve the world, but the world already chose to give them pain.

~1200 words

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

The room was small, cameral, more like an office. The fate of nations is most often played out in such rooms. Subjects reporting, kings giving orders. Choices and decisions. Reports, laws, official letters. Power, the shackles of power, when you have to send your loved ones to death and watch them suffer because you are the most important pawn in this game.

The four boys sit on the floor. Leviathan moved away disapprovingly, and Mammon watched with interest as Beelzebub tried to command the cockroach to enter Satan's nose as he fell asleep. They had no idea what dark thoughts were going through their teacher's head.

Gusion looked at their homework and sighed. Those math problems weren't difficult. At least the initial were not, because it was exactly what they were learning now. It is true that when he prepared homework in the middle of the night, Guison was so tired that he added the last two tasks from a topic they had not studied. They didn't know how to solve it... but what he got back was at least interesting.

“Oh, Gusion is alive. Get up." Beel elbowed Satan in the chest.

The boy shuddered and looked around unconsciously. He squinted to see what was crawling on his nose, and screamed when it turned out to be a cockroach. Beel cackled loudly, and Mammon gently removed the bug and placed it on his shoulder.

“Now you will be mine.”

“You're acting like brats.” Leviathan separated Beel from Satan, who tried to jump at his throat. “Calm down, I want to get this over with.”

“Leeeviii, he's an idiot!”

“You fit together.”

At that moment, they looked like ordinary children. They had fun, argued and laughed, unaware of what fate would bring them. If it weren't for the powerful aura that emanated from each of them, with their fluffy cheeks and undergrown horns, they could have been running around the streets of the capital with sticks, having fun with other kids.

Gusion finally woke up and spoke in a calm voice.

“I checked your homework.”

Of course, it didn't help. This time the focus was again on the cockroach and the deep discussion of how to dip its little legs into the golden river. Only when Gusion slammed his fist on the desk did four pairs of eyes turn to him.

“Leviathan. You did great, everything was resolved perfectly. I didn't expect any of you would do so well.”

Gusion handed him a paper with the only red color marking a perfect score. There was not a single pencil smudge or additional calculations. Only correct results. The boy smiled to himself, as he was sure that it couldn't be otherwise.

“I didn't teach you this, how did you know how to solve it?”

“There was a textbook in the library. Unlike them, I know what books are for.”

In fact, Gusion recently couldn't find his textbook from which he took the assignments. But how did it appear in the library? Gusion hadn't visited this place for several weeks. Without much thought, he pulled out another piece of paper, maybe not as elegantly written as the previous one, but still in good condition.

“Mammon. All the problems are fine up to the point where there was subtraction or division... I understand that you may have read it incorrectly. In one. But everywhere?”

The boy looked at it with interest, but without much concern.

“I read it well.”

“So what's the problem?”

“Why should I reduce numbers when I can accumulate them?”

Inhale. Exhale. That's not what math is about. Still patiently, Gusion rubbed his forehead.

“Sometimes you have to subtract something to gain more... A bit like a loan. You give something to someone for safekeeping so you can pick up more later.”

“But it's still mine?”

"Yes. It's yours. Someone else is just taking care of it for the time being.”

It's true that Gusion didn't know who would take care of delta for him, but what mattered was that Mammon understood. Gusion had long since stopped explaining equations to Mammon in anything other than money terms. Not because he was stupid. He understood very quickly. If he wanted to. And usually he only wanted something when it belonged to him. Him and Beel were the only ones who didn't question the fact that a certain devil bought thirty watermelons.

“Beelzebub…”

The boy returned the paper a day ago, which was so scribbled that you could barely see the whiteness of the page, let alone the answer. When he get it back, this time marked red by Gusion, there was no trace of the white at all.

“Do I even have to comment on this? Once you get something right, it is related to subtraction, just unlike Mammon. Why?"

“Because if I eat something, it won't be there.”

This time Gusion didn't even try to comment. Beel pursed his lips and decided to defend himself.

“I even borrowed a textbook to learn! But it was terribly boring. I think I left it somewhere.”

So that's how it ended up in the library.

“Okay… Sit down. Satan. You're the last one left.”

The first problems looked good. In fact, the beginning looked the most normal compared to the rest of the boys, the further and more difficult the tasks, the more small mistakes. It only got weird towards the end. The paper was concave from the force of what the boy was writing, and instead of an answer there was a puncture with a pen. Satan was the avatar of wrath. Gusion understood this, the boy got irritated when he failed. And then it got weird, because the last two problems were solved so perfectly and cleanly, as if Leviahan had solved them.

“Will you explain to me what happened?”

“Oh.” Satan smiled broadly and turned to Leviathan. "You were right!"

“Of course I was.”

Gusion felt a twinge of pride. Were they studying together? That's better than he expected.

“Right about what?”

“That there are correct answers at the back of the textbook.”

…and whatever hope there was in Gusion just died.

“Hey! There were answers there and you didn't tell me?”

“No, and I will never tell you because you tried to put a cockroach up my nose!”

Mammon, on the other hand, was nodding in admiration.

“Very efficient use of resources.”

“Everyone get out of my sight.”

They didn't need to be told twice. When the group had already flown out of his office, Gusion went to the window, where he soon saw all four of them in the palace courtyard. Whatever mischief they had planned, they looked carefree. Happily. Young kings who will soon carry the weight of the entire Hell on their shoulders. With power comes responsibilities, and with responsibilities comes suffering. They were young, but each of them had already experienced loss. Learning, fun, friendship. An overlay to the painful everyday life that will soon await them. He might be annoyed that they didn't always take their lessons seriously, but he couldn't stay mad at them for long. In a few years, along with the crowns will come responsibilities. He could only let them taste the remnants of childhood they had left.

[sweet-s0rr0w]

Drarry | 4.5k | M | Multiverse | Established Relationship | Unspeakable HP | Insecurity | Fate vs Choice

The first time Harry spots his husband in another universe, he's arm in arm with Astoria Greengrass.

Read it here on AO3!

I wrote this little not-in-every-universe fic as a very late birthday gift for the lovely @sitp-recs. <3 Huge thank-yous to my fab betas @tackytigerfic, @citrusses and @maesterchill for all your help with grammar and emotional support 😂 (and also @fluxweeed for the latter)

Excerpt:

When Harry finally slips, it’s in bed. “Charlie,” he says, from nowhere, while Draco’s distracted, disoriented, chin still tingling pleasantly from the scrape of Harry’s Sunday evening stubble, propped up on his elbow and sorting roughly through the bedside drawer.

He pauses, bemused. “No,” he tells Harry, voice careful, the way he’d talk to Vince on a particularly slow day. “Not Charlie. Draco.”

Harry sighs, immediately impatient. He looses his hold on Draco’s thigh, cold air taking his place as he rolls onto his back. “For fuck’s sake, Draco. You, and Charlie bloody Weasley!”

“Sorry,” Draco says, elusive lube finally in hand as he turns to join him, “what?”

“The two of you,” Harry says, face blotchy with frustration. “Outside Gringotts, just – just the other day. You were in your work robes too, and you were holding hands, Draco, I–”

“Which one is Charlie again?” Draco interjects, trying to picture the scene.

“What?!”

“Look, Harry, you know I’m no good with faces. Must we really have the whole Weasley discussion again? Now?” asks Draco, gesturing down at his poor, neglected cock.

“Oh, for – he’s the dragon-tamer, alright?” Harry splutters, outraged. “The short one! The fit – all the – you fucking know!” he says, holding up his arm in the universal gesture for muscles, his face so perfectly cross that Draco has to press his lips together tight to push down the hysteria bubbling up inside.

“Sounds sexy,” he says instead, reaching over to run his nails through the curls of Harry’s chest hair, thumbing hopefully at a nipple. It’s no use, though. Harry’s cock, which had, just moments ago, been making an excellent showing, is now curled plump and despondent against his thigh.

“At least, in that universe,” muses Draco, wriggling down the bed undeterred, “I get one of these to play with.”

“But – Charlie Weasle–” Harry tries again, until Draco takes him into his mouth and sucks him back to hardness, decidedly not thinking about muscular ginger dragonologists.

[briebysabs]

I have to talk about Misha I’ve been holding this for so long. I am not defending him, everything he’s done is fucked up. I just want people to understand him better and idk how coherent this will be but HSVDVXHSBSJJDF

Bc if you hate him, totally justified. But I don’t want Misha to ever be simplified to the jealous crazy younger brother. Yes he is technically that but one thing about mochijun characters is that most of the time, you can always dig further into their psyche. And I feel like not enough people do that with Misha. I haven’t made an in-depth Misha discussion until now mostly bc I’m a potato. He isn’t 2-dimensional and he fits perfectly in the themes of vnc. Misha cannot be saved, he is a hopeless character, he bears Luna’s Mark while using the Book he is doomed. You can say he was doomed the second he entered the story. His brotherly love for Vanitas is twisted. He is the embodiment of tragic. Everything that led him to this point was not his fault. The only thing he chose was to follow Luna and join their clan bc he would’ve died otherwise. Luna and Vanitas are the only good things he ever had.

We all know his backstory. So of course losing both would make him snap. And on top of all this he’s being manipulated by Teacher. Who fucking knows the lies or orders Teacher has been feeding him. All this when he’s like 12....13 at most.

And let’s approach the vanoé situation. We know the depth of vanoé’s relationship and even though Misha might’ve observed from afar, he doesn’t have that context. To be fair he probably wouldn’t care but point is, he sees Noé as some random guy. And again, let’s withdraw ourselves a bit and see things from the outside. How much time has passed since chapter 1? How long has Vanitas and Noé actually known each other? We know that a couple weeks passed since the end of the Gevaudan arc. We know that a week passed after Vanoé got kicked outta Ruthven’s study. If there are any other mini time skips I’m forgetting pls lemme know. But let’s be honest, they’ve known each other for two months. If we wanna push it, three. Of course how long you know a person doesn’t solely decide how close you get to them. You can know someone for two weeks but depending wtf goes on in that time frame, they can become your ride or die. But let’s use Misha’s logic for a minute.

You’ve known Vanitas longer, both of you went through hell under Dr. Moreau. You have the same Mark, you’re gonna suffer the same fate. And from how you see it, he chose a man he met by chance a few months ago, over you. Someone who will never truly get it. He is putting his life in the hands of a stranger over yours. You finally meet again after all this time, and the brother who you believed puts you above everything, points a gun at you. Yeah, Misha fucked up. But that will hurt anybody.

Misha challenges their relationship. He questions how much it even makes sense. It’s not only “how can you chose Noé over me?” But also “How can you kill Father but not him?” Is he more important than us?? And that’s a valid question. Messed up but understandable to ask. Noé has protected Vanitas and has been pretty helpful. But Vanitas doesn’t need him to survive. Noé isn’t essential for this suicide mission he’s on either. Misha cannot understand what Noé brings to Vanitas’ life.

Misha was so dependent on Vanitas that he couldn’t fathom his brother not feeling the same. Vanitas loves Misha, no matter how strained or corrupted that bond has become. But he is not emotionally capable to stay with him. And he is allowed to feel that way. And Misha is allowed to scream and wail and be broken about it. In conclusion, Misha is an amazing addition to the narrative, I love him a lot. But I also love Vincent from ph so that explains quite a bit doesn’t it?

[weebsinstash]

Not gonna lie if I were the reader after they got replaced by YouTwo I would be a neurotic mess lmao. I already mental issues but I can't imagine going through their trauma on top of everything. I would definitely be scratching myself again out of sheer stress and anxiety about whether or not everybody will replace me again. My arms would look horrible. Oh boy imagine everybody's reaction to realizing they've messed up this badly and absolutely ruined the reader

Other people: fun ways we can write! Coffee shop au! Red string of fate! Hanahaki! Enemies to lovers!

me: what if I sat and tried to seriously and realistically contemplate the ramifications of a severely traumatic experience and the following neurotic habits that arise from the spiral down

Reader gets back to Spider Society, either glitching back in or "being rescued" whatever, and, you're just doing shit like digging food out of the trash "you'd never guess what kinds of perfectly good stuff people throw away, and it saves time to not have to wait for anything to be prepped! Never know when you'll vanish in the middle of a meal or that one serial killer will pop out at you again!! Ahaha!

Someone comes to check on you and you deadass have a fucking, tripwire web trap all around you, you're not even sleeping in a bed you're in your own webbing (because we rock organic webbing here because it fucks) so the second anything like, opens the door of your apartment or comes near you, you're instantly aware. Peter B comes in "heeeey, just wanna check in, make sure you're doing ok--" and there's fucking web wires rattling cans as he opens the front door and suddenly you're wide awake with an actual fucking knife or some kind of equally brutal survivalist weapon and it takes you a few seconds to fully snap out of it and let him calm you down and he has to tell Miguel You Are In Fact Not Doing Ok

You've got real "scaring all your loved ones and everyone around you" energy during those times you're just like going through some manic shit, opening your mouth and going on a sudden 'epiphany' like "i know what would help!! I'm gonna start cutting my face in really visible prominent places and that way you guys will know by the scar who I am :) and when it heals I'll cut myself again :) and again :) maybe I should just cut off a finger, how many of me do you think are missing fingers? Or maybe I could give myself a cool scar!!" And it's just like. What the fuck do they even say to that. A lot of them just genuinely could cry over this, seeing what this did to you. You sound genuinely cheerful at the realization and give no mind to how casually you just suggested self harm out of paranoia and self preservation.

You're just having like hard-core eating disorder issues going from overeating to undereating, binging because you're suffer9ng trauma from starving and then starving yourself "no its fasting, I'm FASTING to save food and money and resources, ok, I can only fit so much in my backpack and--"

You have this backpack from your multiversal glitching travels and keeping it with you basically 24/7 even when you go to the bathroom becomes a comfort habit, because, "never know when your camp has been found by the runners and you've gotta make a break for it" or some other cryptic memory you babble at them like you're discussing coffee when it could be one of the most vile horrifying things they've ever heard

I think the most interesting but tricky thing I've thought of is, what if Reader's trauma-humor coping mechanism gets dialed up to 11 and you can basically never turn it off because, your brain is protecting yourself. It's like you're Doing A Bit but literally all the time like some traumatized method actor and you're just, they're never sure if you're actually telling the truth or actually recounting things you experienced after a while

"Oh man the last time I ate a meal this big was when I finally stopped glitching and I had to break into someone's house and rob them for food! Just call me Santa Claus! But this Earth had suffered a nuclear fallout so all they had was like, DRY CRACKERS and, a lotta canned stuff, icky, and, I was in the middle of trying to pry a tin of lil cocktail weenies open with my teeth when the irradiated house centipedes smelled my blood, just imagine like a normal centipede but, like, the size of a Shetland pony, hey, friendship really IS magic right, and me and these centipedes got SO close, so anyways they smelled my blood, right, and it made them hungry, and--" and here you got like The Entire Squad speechless, Hobies just over here like "fuck, I don't even know what to say to that, you want some ketamine bruv" and yall just hit em with "nah last time I tried ketamine I had a fever dream of being replaced by an evil clone and I was shunned by all my close friends who i thought of like family. Oh wait, that was you guys! That's awkward!"

[ofeliaxoxo]

Dando moment!

https://x.com/ln4norris/status/1912262508095717762

Dando moment!!! dando have been moving me in hitherto unprecedented ways i used to Not Care Them...im having daniel dinner daniel w- daniel for dinner - Dinner With Daniel later...daniel is one of the best guys ive ever met in my life....HELLO.

AND. actually it fits in perfectly with my dando maxiel fic. but the melbourne gp max and daniel having their special little fated in the stars i will love you for ever padel date its private and no one saw except we DID see....versus daniel and lando having their Casual Dinner that actually remained private and we wouldnt have had a clue if lando didnt tell us. maxiel secret af padel that we know about anyway versus lando voluntarily letting slip what could have been a totally secret dinner. the way max/daniel/lando are besties separately but it lowkey is kinda separate they did not overly form a trio lol

any way guys new seminar topic of discussion. Dando. lets all ruminate on dando a little now

[chloe-caulfield94]

The theme of moving on in Life is Strange S1

In discussions surrounding the ending choice of Season 1, the theme of accepting loss and moving on is often brought up. An argument is made that this theme would be realized if Chloe was murdered. Max, by letting Chloe die, would show the ability to accept loss and move on. I think it’s a very narrow view of how the theme of accepting loss and moving on is portrayed in the game. If the only thing you expect from the ending is for Max to experience loss and to move on from that loss, then both endings achieve that. In the sacrifice Arcadia Bay ending Max also experiences loss – of Joyce, who was much more than just a friend’s mother to her, of her schoolmates, of her childhood hometown. And she moves on from that loss, leaving town with Chloe, beginning the next chapter of her life.

I’d argue that in the sacrifice Arcadia Bay ending Max exhibits the ability to accept loss and move on much more than in the other ending. The final choice is made not on Monday, but on Friday. That fact is relevant as we’re discussing the themes of accepting loss and moving on.

Even though in the nomenclature used by the game the choice is between “sacrificing Chloe” and “sacrificing Arcadia Bay”, which would imply both options require some kind of action from Max, that is not the case. On Friday, Chloe is safe. Max has already saved her life. She has broken Chloe’s cruel fate. So the option to sacrifice Arcadia Bay is in reality an option not to sacrifice Chloe. An option to abstain from saving the town, because the only way to save it is to kill Chloe. If Max does nothing, then Chloe will continue to be alive, because the mortal danger threatening her has already been averted. But the town will be destroyed, with no sacrificial lamb to stay the anger of the weather gods. It’s the option to save the town that requires Max to go back in time to Monday and to erase every single thing she did throughout the game, including her Monday rescue of Chloe, thus killing her.

Do you see the difference between those two options? By sacrificing the town, Max accepts that there’s nothing that can be done to save it, apart from killing her best friend, which she refuses to do. She accepts the inevitability of the Storm. And then she moves on, leaving the town, beginning the next chapter of her life.

But by sacrificing Chloe, Max proves she is unable to accept the loss of the town, of her classmates and of her teachers. She is so unable to accept that loss, that she is willing to go back in time once more, even though at this point she has deduced it was time travel which caused the Storm in the first place. She is so unable to accept that loss, that she is willing to erase all her choices and struggles, even to sacrifice her own best friend just to prevent it.

This point needs to be stressed. When the final choice is being made, the loss that Max is faced with, the loss that she can accept and move on or which she can prevent at a terrible cost, is the loss of the townspeople of Arcadia Bay. Not the loss of Chloe, who is neither lost nor in danger of dying at that point.

Also, have a look at the songs accompanying the endings.

“Obstacles” by Syd Matters is a song about growing up, learning the reality of the world, moving on, looking towards the future. It perfectly fits the theme of learning to move forward in time despite having experienced loss, of learning to accept the inevitability of some losses.

“Spanish Sahara” by Foals is a song about experiencing grief, but not about learning to accept loss or processing it in a healthy manner. On the contrary, it’s a song about trying to push grief down, trying to forget one’s loss, which is the most unhealthy way of dealing with it. Trying to forget is not acceptance. It’s denial, the first stage of grief, not the last.

So even the ending songs indicate that while in both Max experiences loss, she only learns to accept it and move on in the “sacrifice Arcadia Bay” ending.

I think that saying the only way for Max to exhibit capability to move on after loss is for her to watch helplessly as her best friend is being murdered is an incredibly narrow way of interpreting that theme. The theme of moving on should be interpreted with all other elements of the story taken into account. In October of 2013 Max was entering a very important period of her life. She was a high school senior. She was on the cusp of becoming a young adult. For every person, this is a period of change and of choice. You pick your path. You leave your family home, sometimes even your hometown, to pursue education or career. It’s also the moment people start entering into their first serious relationships.

In the “sacrifice Chloe” ending Max shows little capability to grow up or move on. She clings to her hometown and her school. She clings to the place her childhood memories are associated with. She is incapable of taking her first steps as a young adult.

In the “sacrifice Arcadia Bay” ending Max leaves her hometown, her school and her childhood memories behind. She leaves the town to begin a new life somewhere else. She leaves with the person who might become her first serious romantic partner.

Now, which of those endings realizes the themes of moving on and growing up more? I think it’s self-evident.