#bc i was a pretty fucked up teenager and it took a while for me to admit i dont get to do whatever i want

[curiouschaosstarlight]

(*Quick clarification, 'cause I feel like I should say this right away, I don't mind people not liking or even being really uncomfortable with certain characters, especially villains that have canonically done some really horrible stuff, even if I happen to really love the character in question! It's all in the Handling of the topic, and someone that's like "oh they're just not my cup of tea" or just don't want to talk about the character at all 1000000% has my respect and appreciation <3)

-claps-

So.

On the topic of demonizing characters that have violent or angry responses to their trauma

The thing about it that really gets my goat is the fact that I as a person have had anger problems ever since I can remember. I've had a pretty bad mix of anxiety and anger problems due to being traumatized, and have had to work really, really hard to get my knee-jerk temper under control, and really nothing fucks you up like thinking you're "fixed" but the reality winds up being you just were in a state of "nothing too stressful's happened lately" and then when things start getting incredibly stressful again, you realize you still have more work to do and you have to watch yourself way more than you thought.

I'm still not "fixed", and, after talking extensively with a therapist, I'm kind of just going to have to be okay with that; still trying to do right by the people I care about and not be an asshole about things, but I'm just going to have to live with the fact that in response to high anxiety and high stress, I become an angry person, and I'm not always going to be able to remember to take a step back from a situation when I feel myself getting heated (my success rate in this is going up at least)

So It Really.

Really.

Bothers Me.

When fandom tries to claim that a character isn't traumatized, or isn't traumatized enough, because their response to that trauma is to be violent and angry and malicious. And when they try to claim that because a character reacted this way, they're just evil and irredeemable and have no further depth to them, and any attempt to add depth (even canonical depth) to them is "wrong (and a sign the person doing it is an Abuser/Terrible Person irl)" or is "woobifying them".

And yeah. Part of what bothers me is that I tend to fall very hard for villain/antagonist characters that handle trauma badly, or otherwise have signs that they probably have some trauma they haven't exactly worked through, especially when that villain character gets to have a redemption arc. (And I do NOT mean that as "they cast away everything they were before and completely denounce and despise who they used to be and go through the whole repent and penance number". Give me more villain characters who are TRYING, who are STRUGGLING, who have conflicted feelings, who aren't an entirely new person and shouldn't be left to just wallow in self-hatred over it because!! no one!! deserves!! to wallow in self-hatred!! I want redemption arcs in the form of "person who did wrong is doing their best to be a better person" and NOT "character needs to suffer and be heartbroken and sad and unable to move on forever", I hate when I see people writing the latter shit, Idc what the character canonically did, no one who's genuinely trying deserves to be perpetually miserable and it is Highkey Concerning to see that attitude happen again and again) Plus, I LOVE media and character analysis, it is MY JAM, and.

Yeah.

I've got a lot of feelings that go into this kinda stuff. It's why when I see "no nuance!! just evil!!!"-type takes, that shit really boils my blood.

And is also why I don't actively participate in fandom anymore.

Like, yeah, I make some posts here and there. And I'd love to interact more with like-minded people -- I really love talking to others about characters and media and ships and all that good stuff!!

But I don't go searching for fandom stuff unless it's some art in a completely different language. After my last two fandoms went absolutely horrifically for me in two different ways, I think my trust in modern fandoms is just gone, and I don't think it's coming back.

There's only so many times a person can be told they're inherently evil (indirectly) or badwrong and stupid (directly) for a simple fucking opinion over goddamn fiction of all things.

[brattyfork]

.

summary: you’re horny but you’re on your period, matt has an idea

warnings: dry humping, (i hate that word lol) cumming in pants, super short sorry

i was sitting next to matt on the couch and he just looked so fucking good. he was playing clash of clans, completely focused on his game. he was wearing a wife b3ater and some plaid pj pants, his chain was sitting loosely around his neck and his hair was all messy bc he hadn’t brushed it yet. it was too much.

i dramatically fell to my side with a loud groan.

“what’s up my love?”

“i’m hornnyyyyyy”

“so what’s the problem?”

“i’m on my period”

“oh”

matt and i had tried period sex but we decided it was too much work, too messy. we weren’t sex addicts so we could abstain for a week, it wasn’t a big deal, usually, but i felt like a feral animal today.

“yeah” i stared at him. he looked up from his phone like he was thinking and i swear i saw a lightbulb appear above his head.

“come sit on my lap”

“i’m not in the mood to be teased”

“i’m not gonna, c’mere” he tossed his phone to the side.

i climbed on top of his lap, interested in what he was thinking. matt immediately pulled me into a kiss, one of his hands on the back of my neck and the other on the small of my back. he pulled away briefly.

“think you could get off just grinding on me princess?”

“mm probably”

he smiled and kissed me again, moving his hands to my hips to help me move. i let out a small whimper at the much needed relief.

matt slid his tongue along my lips, asking for permission which i quickly granted. he pushed his tongue in my mouth, joining mine, which quickly created a very sloppy make out session.

usually we were pretty composed but this was different. this was a gross, messy, hot spit swapping kiss, and it was fucking incredible.

i could feel him growing harder under me, slowly adding more and more pressure to where i needed him. i moaned into the kiss, feeling the ends of his lips curl up into a smirk.

“feel good baby?”

“fuck yes so good” i started sucking on his neck, licking and biting wherever i could, lots of skin exposed thanks to his tank top.

matt took one of his hands off my hip and ran it into my hair, grabbing a fistful of my hair but not pulling. he wrapped his other arm around my waist, pulling me closer.

“so good for me angel, such a good whore”

i whimpered into his neck as he rutted up into me. matt used the fist full of my hair he had as leverage, pulling me away from his neck back to his lips. we once again got lost in a messy kiss as i ground harder into his lap. the way his hard dick still hit my clit even through four layers of clothes drove me up the wall.

i could feel the knot in my stomach growing tighter as i moved faster and harder on his lap.

“close already my love?” he pulled away. i whined as i dug my head into his neck, embarrassed of the effect he had on me.

“don’t be embarrassed, you’re so cute all worked up for me” he moved closer to my ear, “plus i think you’re gonna make me cum in my pants just from grinding on my lap”

i immediately pulled my head out of the crook of his neck, attaching our lips harder than ever before. god, the fact that he was as worked up as me turned me on so much. i felt like a horny teenager, making my boyfriend cum just from sitting on his lap.

i made some noise into our kiss, signaling that i was about to cum and matt just

hummed back, both giving his approval and agreement. i felt the knot snap in my stomach as my orgasm washed over me, matt’s hands still guiding my hips, holding me through my high.

i felt his dick twitch against my sensitive clit, making me cry out while he groaned into my ear. matt took complete control of my waist, using me to rub himself through his orgasm, which i allowed. i was super sensitive but it still felt unreal so i just let him do his thing until he slowed his motions, leaving his hands on my hips while my head leaned on his shoulder.

once our motions had stopped completely and we took a moment to catch our breaths, matt pulled me into another kiss.

it was different though, not needy or messy, more of an “i got you kiss”, sweet and passionate. i smiled into his lips and felt him do the same before i pulled away and he grabbed my face, he peppered my skin with kisses making me giggle before pulling away again to let me breathe.

“i think i need to change my pants”

a/n- sorry this is so short :( i didn’t wanna drag it out too long. but! i have more stuff coming very very soon

[captainlexapro]

hang on. I just need to talk about quinn's autograph for a minute because i have so much appreciation for the effort and intention he puts into it. (also i love linguistics/language/writing and how people sign their name is actually very interesting to me)

Been thinking about this (x) article from 2021 (and also very much demko saying "thoughtful" for his one word to describe huggy at the nhl awards this year. demmer u don't understand the implications of what you just said).

teammates chirping quinn for being a slow at signing because it's not a scribble or an unintelligible flourish...but he straight up doesn't give a fuck what they think because HE wants HIS signature to be easily distinguishable for FANS. like the awareness of how special that stuff can be for people. 💙 antoine agreeing that "you should always be able to tell the name without the number." YES!!! YOU GET IT!! (don't get me wrong, there can be iconic autographs that aren't legible whatsoever but idk. to me it's something about how it's a name and i'd like to be able to read it. it's so personal and a scribble doesn't feel personal).

i wanted to see how his signature has changed/progressed over the years, so i dug around a bit to see where he's landed at this point. let's back up to the beginning!

2018 (screenshot from this vid) -

huggy's first official nhl signature!!

his draft day signature shows he's still fully spelling out his first name. it also looks just very. teenage boy who can't do cursive.

BUT the elements are already there - heavy on the Qu, the Hu, (new nickname Q-hoo? like yoohoo? no? fine.) and the s. starting to stylize the gh.

*side notes: Qu is such a rough first letters pairing rip... it's a distinct shape. printing Q doesn't flow easily into the u while cursive Q is ugly (in my opinion) and idk if a lot of people actually know what a true cursive Q looks like (hint: it looks like a 2). also, "quinn" is hard just because it's SEVEN vertical elements back to back. i honestly think doing it in cursive requires more focus than printing. hughes is fun because it has the high and low elements right next to each other, which he emphasizes.*

2019 (nhl debut) -

oh boy. sill very choppy. still have those main elements of emphasis happening.

i feel like he probably hadn't started worrying about his signature yet (this was his first game, to be fair).

not a lot of connectivity (especially in Hughes)

the n has hints of what it will become later, though, which is cool to see!

2021 (from article)-

only writing Quinn now (only one dot for an i). maybe to speed it up, maybe just bc that's the nickname he goes by, maybe both.

seeing the connecting line/stroke between the g and h more prominently

s is looking more stylized as well

i think he's picking up the pen a fair amount still (maybe up to 8 or 9 strokes in this one?). so yeah, i'm sure it took a while compared to others...

2022 (from this silly vid)-

this is kind of not a 'true' signature to me bc 1) given the nature of the video i kind of doubt he would have put 100% effort into it (complete lack of stylized s) and 2) you can tell the surface/pen combo isn't great - see the jaggedness on the gh?

this is the most ~scribbly~ version i saw. like i said, idk if i really count this one but i don't want to dig around forever to find a confirmed 2022 signature

regardless, he seems to have sped it up and is better at the cursiveness aspect. Most of it is connected - i'd guess 5 total strokes for that version.

2023 (from wallpapers on the canucks' insta)-

definitely more committed to a "look"

Qu is kind of aggressive lol and the gh stroke isn't super smooth either. HOWEVER it is 100% a stylistic element he focuses on. also it's fast to connect them, so it probably feels pretty natural. just needed more practice on keeping that stroke aligned.

officially no dotting of the i anymore - just swooping up high (again, probably helps with speed)

we have the fully stylized s! i'm actually very fond of that part because lots of people will let the last letters fall to the wayside and basically just draw a line. he's kinda doing that a smidge with the n. but there's intention on the s and it looks very nice!

2023/2024 (from canucks' wallpapers & inhousemade insta)-

here we have our latest iteration

I reallyyy like the finishing on the n - it matches well with how he does the s, which is so pretty. such a fun letter to write lol

i think the gh line has been fully mastered at this point. and it's a good way to keep his signature legible but still give it a unique flair. not everyone's signature/name has that type of line so ppl can pick his name out rather easy i would guess.

i think huggy's probably settled on autograph style/look at this point. but i will still keep an eye out to see if he decides to try a new element!

thanks for reading and hopefully you found this mildly interesting ☺️

[discokicks]

BAD IDEAS (ON THE SAME PAGE) — JAMIE TARTT

a fic inspired by bad idea right by olivia rodrigo!

masterlist! song inspo! AO3!

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)

summary: football star jamie tartt is an asshole. he’s the one ex of yours that your friends always hated, one that you now all joke about, and one you haven’t spoken to in four years. however, after a chance encounter, the two of you reconnect, and he leaves you with his new number and a hundred questions about his reformed personality. but seeing him tonight would be a bad idea, right?

word count & rating: 11k (wowza), M! (18+! minors get away or i’ll narc on you to your guardians)

warnings: SMUUUUUUT, porn with plot, lots of suggestive language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, sprinkling of a handjob, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kids), angst, mentions of alcohol, probable secondhand embarrassment, exes reuniting (it needs a warning sometimes), jamie tartt was an asshole and is now just a prick (in the best way possible), reader is a physio, major fluff, and swearing. also reader is american (bc the author is too. sorry </3)

authors note: well. i wrote it. olivia wrote this song for teenage girls in their twenties (me) only and i immediately thought of this fic the second i heard it. i'm calling this an exercise in smut writing before i embark on my aces (my roy kent series for my new friends) eventual-smut-adventure, so this evolved into something i wasn’t expecting but i had so much fucking fun writing it. god, i love jamie tartt. also! this is my first smut fic at this type of level, so go easy on me. hope you all enjoy. love you all tons! -mags

There are two universal truths in life. 

The first is that the coffee shop you frequent on your way to work will and will always have the best cold brew you’ve ever tasted. The second is that Jamie Tartt will and will always be a massive fucking prick, and you’ll never see him again for as long as you live.

These are two things you live by, and while they may seem rather mundane or petty in the grand scheme of things, they are the only truths you can count on these days. Especially when everything else is so up in the air.

However, the universe doesn’t seem to believe in these things as blindly as you do, and this becomes evident the moment that you step into the shop on a gloomy Wednesday morning. Because these two truths (well, they’re fucking bald-faced lies now aren’t they, huh?) are broken within approximately two minutes of each other with seven words.

It began when you greeted Natalia, the barista who was here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday before your shift at the clinic with a wide smile. As soon as she saw your face, her expression turned apologetic, albeit a bit dazed.

“You’re gonna hate me,” she says, putting her hands on either side of the register. Your brows shot up at her words. “We just ran out of cold brew.”

Your face falls. “You’re kidding.”

“We were low on it this morning,” she starts to explain, “our stupid night-shifters didn’t prep enough last night. And it’s been selling like crazy today.”

“Seriously?” you nearly whine. “I might cry.”

“I’m sorry, Doc,” she apologizes, but she doesn’t sound too apologetic. Natalia’s eyes keep shifting to your left, the dazed look in her eye never faltering. Then, she says the fated seven words. “But he took the last of it.”

You turn your head in the direction she’s been looking, and your blood runs completely cold. You think you could drop dead and go to hell at this very moment, and it’d be a better existence than what awaits you in the next five minutes. And while this all may sound dramatic, you don’t care. 

You don’t care because Jamie fucking Tartt is standing across from you, newly long hair peeking out from beneath his hood. He’s engrossed in whatever’s on his phone, fingers flying back and forth like he’s texting. 

You think you could run. You’re pretty sure you could successfully make a break for it and leave Natalia high and dry without him seeing you. It’d be an easy exit, and you’d never have to see him again.

But then, as if he can feel your eyes on him, he looks up. And the second he meets your gaze, his face falls in what you can imagine was a similar fashion to yours. 

Fuck.

Luckily, Natalia is none the wiser. She barely notices your expression, and with Jamie by the pick-up area, she can’t see the way he’s looking at you. So, instead of questioning you, she straight-up giggles.

“I know,” she practically squeals. “I was totally going to save you the last of it, but he asked for it. And I mean, c’mon. It’s Jamie Tartt. I couldn’t possibly say no to him.”

You tragically know that feeling all too well. Knowing you probably would have had a snappier, more cutting response to that if you weren’t in the most debilitating phase of shock, you settle for a quiet, “It’s okay.” You nod at her, brushing it off in an attempt to be casual. “I can settle for an espresso today.”

Natalia nods, tapping it into her register. “Same size as usual?”

“Yeah,” you say, not completely sure what you’re agreeing to. You glance over again at Jamie and find that he’s still standing there, staring at you, and you immediately blink away. “That’s fine.”

The rest of the transaction feels as though it takes a millennium and three seconds all at once. You’re still caught off guard by the time Natalia gives you your receipt with a dazed look in your eye that now matches hers. 

However, yours isn’t because you just saw your favorite Richmond player or your favorite reality show villain. It’s because you’ve just seen your ex-boyfriend and you’re about to walk over and stand next to him for a prolonged period of time.

Nothing about this scenario feels real. You hadn’t seen him in four years. Not since things ended as ugly as they had, with him leaving you sobbing outside of a club at three in the morning, letting you know that things were over between you two. And he hadn’t even given you a reason. It was just that he wasn’t ‘feeling’ it anymore.

You saw in a tabloid about three months later that he was now seeing Keeley Jones (yeah, having to compete with that did not sit well with you at all) and had drawn your assumptions from there. Whether or not he’d been seeing her behind your back or had broken up with you to be with her, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. You were in your anger stage of the break-up and only knew one thing.

Jamie Tartt was a massive fucking prick, and you’d sooner walk on a bed of nails before you saw him again.

But now here he was. And there were no nails to be found.

You avoid eye contact as you pass him to wait for your coffee. There’s a piece of you that wants to say hi and play it cool, just to put on a show for him about how unaffected you were by everything that had happened. The other piece of you hopes that not a word is said for your entire time here.

Unfortunately, neither of those happen.

Jamie slides over to be near you, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. His hands are stuffed in his sweatshirt pocket, and you wait for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn’t.

Instead, you can feel the ‘play it cool’ part of you rise up to the surface. You could do this. You could feign indifference. Fuck him, you could be cool.

You glance over at him and see that he’s pressing his lips together, eyes shifting around the coffee shop. It’s crazy how familiar you still are with his tells to know he’s desperately looking for a way to say something. 

You say it for him. “Hi,” you say simply. Cool and unaffected.

It’s as if the one word alone makes him flinch. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Hi—” He clears his throat after his greeting comes out cracked, and he stuffs his hands further in his pockets. “Hey.”

The awkwardness of this moment is killing you, and it’s taking everything in you to pretend like it's not. As you search for something else to say, you land on, “You took my cold brew.”

You can see his brows shoot up out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, fuck, did I?” 

You nod slowly. “Yeah,” you tell him. “I come in here every morning. Friends with the barista. Said she was going to save me the last of it, but…” You trail off and finally look at him. “She couldn’t say no to Jamie Tartt, apparently.”

You want to jump up and down about how well you’re doing right now. Maybe you are over him. Maybe you’ve finally moved past this shit, and seeing him once more is all you needed to solidify that. Maybe—

The second he chuckles softly with an apologetic smile, your confidence in those things shoots down. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Since when do you drink cold brew, anyway?” you ask, frustrated with the fact that he’s fucking laughing in front of you. “You were always a like, caramel macchiato or frappuccino asshole.”

The names make him laugh harder, shaking his head. “Don’t like those anymore,” he responds. “Sugar hurts me teeth. Tryin’ somethin’ new.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “My fucking coffee.”

That chuckle continues with a shrug. “I’m sorry.” he says again. Then he pauses. “But it’s not like your name was on it, or anythin’.”

Your face draws blank, and immediately, Jamie can tell he’s made a misstep. And it’s not that you’re angry about the joke, it’s just the… everything. Him. The situation. Everything you can remember that you wonder if he bothers to remember too.

Before you can walk away, you feel his hand on your arm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats for a third time, turning you so that you’ll look at him. Your pissed-off expression meets his easy smile and it only fuels your anger more. “I was jokin’. I’m sorry I took your coffee. We can get ‘em to put your name on it if you want.”

“Whatever,” you mutter. It’s not the most mature thing you could have said, but frankly, you don’t care. You just want to get your consolation espresso and get the hell out of here. “What are you even doing over here anyway?”

You’re not sure why you ask it. You don’t know why you keep the conversation going. Jamie looks just as surprised as you are. “I moved over here a couple weeks ago,” he answers. “Got sick of the old place.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you reply. By the way that Jamie snorts, you know he recalls just how much you hated his apartment when you knew him. It screamed twenty-two-year-old AFC-money shithead and you would tease him about it constantly. “Was the empty beer bottle sculpture finally giving you mold poisoning?”

He chuckles again. “That came down shortly after we stopped talking.”

“Oh, so I was just lucky enough to see it in its final days?”

“Oi,” he says, pointing at you. “That thing was fuckin’ impressive and you know it.”

“Impressive in a dorm,” you shoot back. “Not a seven million pound flat.”

He bows his head in a guilty manner. “You remember that, huh?”

“Hard not to,” you answer. “You never stopped talking about it.”

He at least has the decency to wince at that one. “I know,” he says earnestly. It makes you look at him. He shrugs once more. “I wanted to impress ya.”

He did impress you. But not with things like that. He’d impress you when you watched him play, he’d impress you when he made you laugh, and he’d impress you on the rare occasion that he’d just be himself in front of you. Not some asshole footballer. Just him.

But you don’t say that. You say, “That wasn’t the way.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Got that now.” He rocks back on his heels again, like he’s not sure if he should say whatever he wants to. “I was a proper fucking dick to you, wasn’t I?”

That almost makes you fall over. Did he just say that? Did he actually just admit that? Out loud, here, for everyone to hear? Accountability? Unprompted? From Jamie Tartt? 

You want to glance around to see if Rod Sterling’s going to emerge from the bathroom to narrate the next couple of minutes of your life, but are too shocked to do so. 

Your surprise must show in your eyes, because Jamie laughs to himself. “Yeah. Wild, innit?” He shakes his head. “On a bit of an apology tour this year. Trying to build back some bridges, or whatever.”

The nod you give him is slow, still reeling from all of this. “Right,” you say lamely. “Building bridges.”

“I’m serious,” he tells you and for a brief moment, you think he may just mean it. The sincerity in his eyes is clear. “I was terrible to you. And I’m sorry.”

Whatever you were expecting when you stepped into this coffee shop on this rainy Wednesday, it certainly wasn’t this. And you certainly weren’t expecting your first time reuniting with him to go this way— with him apologizing to you. The actual words ‘I’m sorry’ just left his mouth. 

You genuinely don’t know who this is. Because it’s certainly not the Jamie you knew.

You saw flashes of this guy. Quiet moments during your short-lived relationship, typically when it was just the two of you. It’s the type of guy you always knew he could be if he tried. The type of guy you pushed him to be. 

(Your friends always taunted you about having the ever-horrendous I-can-fix-him gene, and they never quite let go of it. But it’s not like it wasn’t true.)

Those flashes are why you held out for as long as you did. If it were anyone else, any other asshole who treated you the way he did, you would have dropped them in a second. But he wasn’t like that. Not always, at least.

It was terrible to think like that. You’d been in a low spot when you’d met him and had taken even lower when he left you. You’d recovered tenfold from that and now knew your worth. 

But as he stands in front of you, apologizing, genuinely apologizing, and looking at you like that, you start to question it.

No! the logical part of your brain practically screams. Don’t you fucking dare.

You’re keen to listen to that for the time being. It hardens you. And all you can do is nod at him again. “Well, uh—” Your voice comes out hoarse. You cough awkwardly. “Yeah. You were. Terrible to me. And, uh… thank you. For saying that.”

So much for playing it cool. You want to slam your head up against the wall but hold yourself back from doing so.

He nods at you, opening his mouth to say something else before he’s interrupted by one of the baristas calling your name. His cold brew’s sitting on the counter too, something the two of you clearly missed in the middle of your conversation.

When you reach for your drink, he grabs his too. He’s still staring at you, biting the inside of his cheek like he wants to say something. When you go to move around him, he stops you.

“Look, I just—” You look up at him expectantly, and his shoulders deflate. “I know you probably want nothin' to do with me. But, I just… I want to talk to you.”

Your espresso is hot in your hands. “Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

That’s when he says your name. Your actual name. Not the nickname that everyone calls you, not a pet name that he used to use, he says your name. And it makes you stop in your tracks.

It’s so stupid. It’s so fucking dumb that your fucking name can send you back to the day you first met him and were completely taken with him. You hate it. And you hate the way it makes your walls come crumbling down.

“Please,” he begs. “Can we… Can I at least give you my number? It’s a new one, but I-I think I’ve still got yours. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. But just so you can… I don’t know? Think about it?”

You wouldn’t know if he still had your number. You blocked him ages ago. But you doubt it. 

However, the more you think about it, the more you consider it. It’s the product of your resolve falling and well, everything else about him now. You think about it.

If you allowed him to give you his number, the ball would be in your court. You could do what you wanted with it. You could text him, you could tell him to fuck off, you could ignore him. It was up to you. 

And you don’t know if that’s worse or better.

You decide on better. The second you sigh, Jamie knows he’s got you. A wide grin breaks out on his face as you hand him your phone. “I’ll think about it,” you mutter. 

That’s good enough for him. He gives your phone back to you, new number inserted and new contact created. You’re glad he didn’t search for his old one. That one just says ASSHOLE in big capital letters with about a million gun emojis. 

(That was done by your previous roommates in an effort to get you to move on from him. You thought it was a bit overdramatic. You were never one for emojis.)

He’s smiling when he holds his coffee out for you. You stare at him blankly, thinking he’s attempting to cheers you. Instead, he shakes his head and says, “Take it.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“Trade with me,” he clarifies and your expression turns to one of shock. “C’mon. You said it’s yours anyway, right?” When you don’t move he rolls his eyes. “Offer’s only good for another second. Me arm’s getting tired.”

At that, you sigh rather dramatically and grumble to yourself, trying not to act pleased by the gesture. You hand him your coffee and he gives you his. “Thanks,” you say. It was kind of him. 

His grin returns and he nods at you. “Alright,” he says. After a slightly awkward beat, he steps back from you. “It was good to see you, Doc. Really.” You’re taken back by how genuine his voice sounds and say nothing in return. “I’ll talk to you later?”

He says it as a question, hopeful and well-meaning. “Yeah,” you tell him noncommittally. “Maybe.”

That too, is good enough for him. Because he sends you one more smile, then walks out of the coffee shop with your espresso in hand. 

You’re still reeling from the interaction when you glance down at his your cold brew and see Natalia’s handwriting. She’s made it just as you like it, down to the milk and everything.

But below it is a small drawing. It’s a tiny shark fin with a #9 written inside, with little lettering circling around it.

Doo-doo-do-doo-do-do-doo.

You’re fucked.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” is the question that your best friend and former roommate Leah screams at you over drinks at a busy rooftop bar. So busy, in fact, that barely anyone looks over at the two of you.

You’d made the mistake of telling Leah that not only had you run into Jamie on Wednesday, but you’d let him give you his number. 

And you’d texted him after hours of deliberation.

It was something innocent, something you’d thought way too much about, but innocent still. You weren’t sure if you were ready to actually talk to him, but there was something about texting him that wasn’t so scary. Your guard was clearly still up, evident by how dry you were in your messages, and you were keeping your distance. You never texted back too quickly, didn’t ask many questions, and often left him on read. 

(Yeah, you’d turned your read receipts on for him. What about it?)

Your first text was a simple enough question, something that you’d been genuinely wondering about since you saw him. It was open enough for a conversation but not too forward. how’d you know my coffee order?

His response came in minutes later. Is that yours? Good taste. It was shortly followed up with, That espresso you drink was fucking disgusting though.

And that was that. That was how you started texting your ex again. That’s how you reconnected yourself with Jamie Tartt. That’s how you knew it was over for you.

And that’s how you’re pretty sure you’re about to kill your best friend.

Leah’s eyes were wild, somehow angry yet still disbelieving yet intrigued. But the intrigue was very minimal. Very minimal. It was hidden well by how pissed off she was at you.

She had every right to be pissed at you. She was the one who always warned you about him. She’d straight-up nursed you back to health when you broke up. She was the one who had to hear about him 24 hours a day until you were finally over him.

Leah had had a year of peace. And now you were killing her for good.

“You’re kidding, right?” she follows up with. Her grip on your arm is tight. “Please tell me your kidding.”

“Leah…” Your voice is weak.

It tells her everything she needs to know. “Oh, my God! Oh, my. God.” She puts her face in her hands. “You’re insane. You’re fucking losing it and we need to have you checked out right now.”

“I’m completely sentient and in control of my own body.”

“Are you sure?”

You sip at your cocktail. “I reset a knee today. I’m pretty sure.”

“I think you might need to reconsider,” she says. “Because you just told me that not only are you talking to Jamie Tartt again, but you were the one who instigated it!”

You deserve this verbal beatdown and you know it. But all you can do is shrug. “Technically, he gave me his number. He’s the one who instigated it.”

“I’m gonna throw my fucking drink in your face,” Leah threatens, gripping her glass in warning. 

You roll your eyes at her. “Nothing’s gonna happen,” you say, even though you know you’re probably lying. Leah knows this too. “We’ve just been texting a little. It’s nothing serious.”

“Yeah, sure,” she deadpans. “Right. And even if I did believe you, what happens if it does? What happens if you get back in your weird, scary Jamie phase and he kills you again? I can’t deal with that.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you assure her, and this time it’s more confident. Because you know you won’t. Not this time. Not if anything happens.

You’d met Jamie when you were twenty-two. You were in your first year of your Masters program, slightly lost as in your move to London to finish your journey to become a physical therapist. Or a physio, as they called it here. Whatever. You couldn’t keep up with the names. 

You were shadowing a physio at the clinic you now worked at, assisting him as a part of your internship at one of the football tournaments the clinic worked at. It was a ton of big-wig footballers, some names you recognized, others you didn’t. But it didn’t matter. They were precious fucking cargo and you were so paranoid about screwing up that you barely registered who they were when you worked on them.

That was, until a twenty-two-year-old Jamie Tartt sprained his ankle and plopped himself down on your doctor’s bench. He looked at you, you assisted him, and you were wrapped up in what you were doing that you didn’t even notice he was flirting with you. 

You didn’t realize until he asked you out. And the rest was history, for better or for worse.

You were surprised he went for you. You knew who Jamie was, what type of girls he liked to be seen with. They were singers and models and actresses. They weren’t you. 

(Perhaps that’s one of the reasons you liked him so much. Because he chose you. You didn’t like to think about that phase of your life.) 

But after six months of seeing him, he ended things out of nowhere. Right when you’d settled on the idea that despite it all, you might be in love with him. And that was that.

You hadn’t seen him since. Not until this week.

“Not gonna happen my ass,” Leah scoffs, bringing you back into the conversation at hand.

A sigh of frustration leaves your lips. “Listen, I know it’s a bad idea;” you tell her. “I know it is. But, I don’t know. There was something different about him, Leah. He was just… like not someone I recognized.”

“Maybe because his hair is fucking long and stupid now.” She brings her glass to her lips. “His highlights look horrendous.”

“I actually like his hair like this,” you admit, earning yet another eye roll. “Listen. I’m not saying he’s changed. He probably hasn’t. But I…” You trail off with a shrug. “I don’t know. What if he has?”

Leah’s looking at you like you’re the dumbest person she’s ever met in her life. “Are you hearing yourself right now?” she asks incredulously. “Babe, he was a prick to you. Like, category-five, prestige-level twat. Like, worst boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“I know,” you repeat. “And I said nothing’s going to happen. But if it does, and it goes south, I give you full permission to say I-told-you-so for the rest of my life, alright?”

Leah bites the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. “Whatever,” she says. After a moment, she glances over at you. “I’m just looking out for you, y’know. I don’t want to see you hurt again. And I definitely don’t want him to be the reason for that hurt again.”

You grab her hand. “I know,” you say once more. “And I love you for it. But if I’m gonna be stupid, I’m fully aware of when I’m gonna do it. And it’s gonna be my own fault.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before Leah nods. “Okay,” she finally says. “Okay. Fine. Your fucking funeral.”

“I’ll let you give the eulogy and allow you to call me a dumb bitch for ten minutes straight.”

“Sold,” Leah says, pointing at you. That slight intrigue you previously saw in her eye returns. “Okay, now that I’ve yelled at you, you need to tell me everything.”

And so you do. You tell her how he took your coffee, how you nearly threw up the second you saw him, how you played it cool until you didn’t. How he apologized to you. Joked around with you. Apologized some more. And then he gave you his coffee. 

You despise how excited you sound about it. Again, you’re trying to play it cool, but the people that know you the best can always see right through you. You’re excited about it. Excited about him.

It’s a bad idea to be excited about him.

It’s a bad idea to look down at your phone after you and Leah order another drink. Your heart stops when you see he’s texted you. 

It’s a bad idea to open the message when Leah excuses herself to go to the bathroom. What are you up to tonight? 

It’s past midnight on a Saturday and he’s texting you. It’s still preseason for him, so he might be drunk, he may not be. You’re three drinks deep and aren’t sure if you are.

It’s a bad idea to respond to him. getting drinks with a friend. You keep it dry.

It’s a bad idea to not look down at your phone until you finish the drinks you ordered. Because now, you’re definitely drunk and looking at it all with new eyes. 

Would you want to hang out tonight? No pressure.

It’s a bad idea to consider it. 

But it’s a worse idea to agree.

text me your new address. i can be there by 1:30.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re knocking on Jamie’s door, intertwining your fingers together when you realize you’re shaking.

The second you do it, you regret it. You’re no longer feeling the effects of your drinks. It wore off on the Uber ride over here. And everything seems like a terrible idea now.

God, what were you doing? He treated you like that and the second you see him again, you go running back? He was an asshole. He’d made you question everything about yourself, he’d made you cry, he’d made you experience every fucking emotion in the book and all it took is one text for you to be back on his doorstep?

Your roommate was right. This was a horrendous idea and you were an idiot.

However, none of that matters. It doesn’t matter because Jamie Tartt’s opening his door and he’s got a stupid fucking smile on his face. And the second you see it, you know there’s no turning back.

“Hey,” he says as he opens the door. “You alright, love?”

You clench your jaw at the name, at his smile, about how casual he’s being, about everything. “Hey,” you say, avoiding his eyes to look around his flat. 

It’s a complete 180 from what he had when he first joined Richmond and what he had when you knew him. It’s a bit less mojo-dojo-casa-house-looking and something more mature. While you can still tell that a twenty-something guy definitely lives here, it’s decorated well, it’s put together, and it’s clean. No beer bottle sculptures in sight. He’s even got a fucking candle burning on his counter. Who the fuck is this and what did he do with the guy you knew?

Jamie follows you as you enter, wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “You find the place okay?”

His question snaps you out of your flat-induced haze. “Yeah,” you reply. You clear your throat. “This is nice.”

That same, stupid smile returns, but it looks a bit nervous. “Yeah. I told you it was a bit different, huh?” he chuckles. He walks toward his island, rounding it as he speaks. “Needed a fresh start or whatever. The old one was gettin’... old.” He watches you as you nod, continuing to look around. “You still in the same place with the same people?”

“Uh, no. Different place. No people,” you answer. You’ve stayed on your side of the counter, actively keeping your distance. “Willa moved to New York last year and Leah moved with her boyfriend. We live in the same building, though, which is nice.”

The small talk is fucking killing you. You’re not even sure if he cared to remember your previous roommates' names, so this all could be pointless. You can’t believe you’re here. You can’t believe you’re actually standing here, talking to him about the past. 

But as you finish speaking, he nods like he’s listening. Maybe he is listening. Maybe he does remember. 

“I’ll have to see that sometime,” he ends up saying, and the implication of it makes your head spin. He wants to see you again. Or he just learned small talk common courtesy. Whatever it is, it’s driving you insane. You have so many questions for him, so many things to say, and as he wipes his hands on his pants again and nods over to his kitchen, he asks, “Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got—”

“Why did you invite me here, Jamie?” The question comes spilling out of you, rushed as if it were waiting on the tip of your tongue and simply couldn’t stand to stay in any longer. Jamie stops in his tracks to blink at you. The look on his face encourages you to go on. “I mean, I know I texted you first. But why… why did you text me tonight? Why’d you—” You grimace, trying to find the right words. “Why’d you give me your number?”

He’s silent for a moment. Thinking. Evaluating. But his eyes haven’t left you. “Because I wanted you here,” he finally says. You cross your arms over your chest as he takes a step toward you. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you.”

You want to say that you’ve been driven crazy all week because you feel same, but decide against it. Instead, you look away from him and scoff. “Right.”

“I’m serious,” he tells you, and your heart stops with every step he takes. “I felt like I was goin’ insane. I didn’t…” For a flash of a second, he looks shy. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. And I didn’t think you’d actually text me. I mean, I hoped you would, but…”

He’s right in front of you, but you still refuse to look at him. Your gaze has shifted to the floor. “I shouldn’t have,” you mutter.

The asshole has the nerve to chuckle, but it’s nervous. Your stomach churns. You’re not sure if you’ve ever heard him nervous. “No, you probably shouldn’t have,” he agrees. “I don’t deserve it.” He pauses and your throat starts to tighten. “I didn’t deserve you.”

That makes you look at him. Either he’s actually apologetic about everything, or he’s gotten really good at knowing everything you want to hear. “No. You didn’t.”

His fingers tentatively brush your arm and you allow him to take your hand. “I know,” he says. “I was a fucking prick. I get that now. I should never have… done that shit to ya.” You’re close enough to him now that if you moved an inch, his forehead would be up against yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of it. The action makes your throat tighten. “And I can’t fix it. But I…” He trails off again and looks you dead in the eye once he has the words. “I want to make it up to you.”

Your resolve is getting weaker and you hate yourself for it. You lean back against the counter, like that will put space between you two. “Jamie…”

“Please,” he whispers. His forehead finally meets yours. You can feel his breath on your lips. You don’t pull away. “Let me make it up to you.”

The last front you have standing weakly presents itself. “If you think,” you begin, breath shuddering as his hand meets your neck, “that one 2 AM hookup is going to make up for what you did, I—”

“I know it won’t,” he says, and it sounds like he does know. “But I want it to be a start.” The fingers on your neck are now tracing your jaw. And they tighten when he says, “Let me show you just how sorry I am, yeah? Let me make it fucking good for you.”

Jesus fucking Christ. That last front dissolves the second he says that, and your logic flips on itself. You came over here for a reason. You knew what this was. At least you got an overdue apology. Whether or not he meant it, is still up in the air, but if he’s promising things like that, then you might as well get something out of it.

You struggle to get a word out, so you nod against his hand. “O-Okay,” you finally stammer out. The way he’s looking at you gives you enough confidence to say, “Fine. Make it up to me.”

Jamie’s lips curl into a smirk and say, “As you wish,” before they’re on yours.

He’s softer than you remember. His lips aren’t chapped, he isn’t as aggressive with it, and he isn’t as rushed. Everything about him feels more mature and you struggle to understand how fast he could have changed in four years. But you’re not complaining. Not when he’s kissing you like this, with more practice and passion than you can ever recall.

His hand unlocks from yours to slide it up your sweatshirt, and it’s surprisingly warm against your back. Still, you shiver from the contact and you can feel him smirk once more against your lips. 

The action alone prompts you to fork a hand in his hair and tug at it slightly, reveling in the soft sound that escapes him. Everything about him comes back to you at once, and you’ve never been happier to know that the same things still get him. If he wants to play it like that, you can keep up.

His hands drop to grab your thighs and lift you onto the counter, breaking the kiss momentarily. Your chest is heaving up and down, lips swollen and wet. Jamie appears to be in the same boat. “Fuck,” he whispers, sounding even more out of breath than you. He dips his head to press a kiss to your neck, nose rubbing against it as he makes his way down. “You look fucking gorgeous, by the way. Meant to tell you that at the shop.”

You’re too caught up in it all to play it cool, especially as he works at that one spot on your neck. “You look— fuck, you look good too. The long hair suits you.”

You feel him grin against your neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree breathily. “Looked like a prick with the old cut.”

You feel his teeth dig into your skin at that one, and you hiss. “You liked that prick,” he reminds you.

You were in love with that prick, but you ignore that thought. “I liked a lot of things about him,” you respond. While it’s honest, the accidental double meaning of it isn’t lost on you.

It’s certainly not lost on Jamie. “Yeah?” he asks again. He lifts his head to look at you, hand creeping up your leg. “What’d you like?” You grip his arm as it rises beneath your sweatshirt once more. “C’mon love. Tell me what you want.”

You hate the way your breath hitches the second his fingers meet your back. You know what you want. You want to see what he’s learned since you last had him. What he’s like four years later. What’s changed, what’s stayed the same. But you’re too embarrassed and much too proud to ask.

Instead, you decide to say, much too shyly for your liking, “You know what I want.”

He hums in agreement, other hand creeping dangerously close to the inside of your thigh. “I do, don’t I?” he murmurs. “Bet I know everything ya want. But I wanna hear you say it.”

“Oh my, God,” you say under your breath, frustration creeping into your voice. The asshole fucking laughs at you. “I want you to make good on your promise. This seems far from it.”

“Right, right, I’m sorry,” he tells you. He doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Just making sure we’re still, y’know. On the same page.” He glances at you. “Right?”

You blink at him. You’re not sure you could have been clearer about what page you’re on. But that’s not what surprises you. What surprises you is the seriousness in his eyes. How he’s searching for assurance in yours. And you know that if, for whatever godly reason, you wanted to stop, he’d pull away immediately, despite how worked up he clearly is. 

It's the bare fucking minimum, but it's more than you’re used to getting.

So, you nod. “Yeah,” you say. “Definitely on the same page.” 

The grin he breaks out to is nothing short of breathtaking. “Good.”

“But—” you suddenly say, stopping him from leaning in once more. He freezes beneath your touch, brows furrowing. “This is… This is a one-time thing. You’re…” You trail off to find the word. “You’re apologizing to me. That’s all this is.”

His smile falters, dropping momentarily before returning with a bit less radiance. It’s his turn to nod. “Okay,” he says, fingers now toying with the edge of your sweatshirt. “Gotta make it count, then.”

And with that, Jamie presses his lips back to yours, grabbing you securely and pulling you off the counter. Your legs wrap around his waist, grabbing the sides of his face, like that’ll stable you against him. 

This time, it’s more desperate. It’s more tongues and teeth, more force and intention behind each movement. He’s setting the pace, but you’re keeping up tenfold. While it’d been four years, you’re not sure if he’d ever kissed you like this. He’s passionate instead of aggressive. While he knows what he wants, he’s definitely not just going to take it. He may be leading but he’s listening to you. And that stirs something inside you that you haven’t felt in a long time.

That much is clear, because you unconsciously let out a quiet sound against his lips. You can feel him smiling once more as he walks you slowly to wherever the hell his bedroom is. You’re caught up in him. And by the way he’s gripping you, you can tell he’s just as caught up in you.

So much so, that he completely loses track of where he’s going and accidentally slams you into his doorframe. You yelp, more because of shock than pain, and pull away to glare at him.

Jamie’s already apologizing. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. “Still gettin’ used to this place.”

“Well, figure out how to navigate better,” you respond, verging on a pout as you rub the back of your head.

“I’m sorry!” he repeats. He’s still got you against the doorframe. “It’s hard to see with your big head in me face. And I can’t kiss ya with, like, my eyes open. It’d be freaky.”

“I’ll give you a pass for that one,” you reply dryly. “Be weird instead of giving me a concussion.”

He’s walking you toward the bed when he mutters, “I’ll give you something, alright.”

Your back meets the mattress and you try to ignore the way he held his hand behind your head when he laid you down. You have under a second to adjust before he’s on top of you. The desperation returns and it almost takes your breath away.

He’s essentially straddling you, tugging at the waist of your leggings before he leaves one last kiss on your lips. He finally gets to pull your sweatshirt off, something he’d clearly been dying to rid you of since he first kissed you. You lift your arms up to help him, finding that you quickly start to do the same to him. You hear him chuckle as you attempt to get it up his back.

“I got it, love, hold on,” he says softly, tossing your hoodie to the side to take off his own. Your eyes immediately go to his chest and stomach and you refrain from reaching out to touch him. When you look up at him, you expect him to be smirking. However, he’s doing the exact opposite.

Jamie’s looking down at you like he can’t fucking believe you’re real. It’s jarring, seeing him like this, but you figure he’s in the same headspace as you and is still struggling to process that this is happening. It doesn’t matter, because before you can question it, he’s moving to press a kiss to your collarbone.

Your hand falls into his hair as he works his way down, mouthing the area of your chest. He pauses before he gets to the bra you’re wearing. His eyes flick up to yours. “Can I—”

You’re nodding before he can even get the words out, shifting to make it easier for him. He discards it to the floor with the rest. When he looks back at you, he releases a shaky breath and just stares.

He stares so intently that you begin to get self-conscious. “What?” you ask.

The question takes Jamie out of his trance. He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “I just— I… Fuck. I forgot how beautiful you were.”

That spreads a warmth through you, one that pulls at your core. As you feel your face heat, you realize you have nothing to say to that. Luckily, he’s already moving on.

Jamie’s different. Really different. And you don’t realize how different he is until you start looking at him like you are right now. You were trying to convince yourself when you told Leah that he’d changed, you’ll admit that. But right now, you think you may have been telling the truth.

He grabs the waist of your leggings once more, lifting your legs to pull them off. You can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips as he struggles to do so. He shakes his head with a soft smile. “Missed that.”

“What?” you ask again.

“Your laugh,” he replies. “Missed that more than you know.”

The sweet words hit you like a bullet. The vulnerability in his voice is what gets you. Goddammit, when did he get so fucking nice? It drives you insane. But it also makes you quietly admit, “I think I’ve got an idea.”

With your leggings now gone, Jamie’s smile turns fonder. Gentler. He presses a kiss to your leg but says nothing in response. He simply places your legs down, eyes flicking down. He lifts his hand to trace down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your panties. The feeling makes you flinch.

He hooks a finger in the band, and your hips buck up to encourage him. His other hand spreads across your hip in a poor effort to keep you still. “Easy,” he murmurs. 

You huff out a breath. “You can—” Your breath hitches as two of his fingers push into your underwear. “Fuck, you can take them off.”

His lips quirk up. “Well, thank you for the permission,” he says. “But not yet. I wanna take it slow with ya.”

Your mouth parts. “Why?”

“Because it’s been years since I’ve seen you,” he answers, moving up to kiss you softly. He speaks against your lips as he says, “And I’ve apparently only got one shot to do this right. So I’m gonna make this last.”

You roll your eyes at his terribly disguised jab. “You’re a dick,” you mutter against him.

“And you’re—” He cuts himself off and a gasp escapes your lips as he cups your core and rubs his palm against it. “Fuck, love. You’re really fucking wet.” He’s positioned on you so that you can feel him getting harder against you thigh. “This all for me, yeah?”

His voice is cocky, while still sounding awestruck. The remaining dignity you have left makes you roll your eyes, albeit a bit embarrassed. “It’s for whoever doesn’t take their fucking time to give me what I want,” you bite.

Jamie draws back from you with a full smirk on his face. “That so?” he asks. The hand against you starts creeping up to the band of your panties. “And what is it that you want? You still haven’t told me.”

You scoff. “I told you.”

He pulls your underwear down your legs and the air around you suddenly makes you realize just how exposed you are. You told yourself you’d never give him the satisfaction of seeing you like this again. But here you were.

His fingers brush against the inside of your thigh, and you shiver once more. “No,” he tells you gently. “You didn’t. You just said you wanted me to keep my promise. You didn’t tell me what you wanted.”

He’s moving closer and closer to the place you want him and you don’t know if you can take it anymore. You shift uncomfortably, as if that will cease the ache. But you know only one thing will.

So, you give him the answer he’s been waiting for this entire time. “You.” His gaze meets yours. “I want you, Jamie. Please.”

That breathtaking grin returns. “Just because you asked so nicely.”

And then he puts his mouth on you without warning.

You spasm at the contact, crying out as he uses both arms to hold you still. The second you calm down, one hand leaves your thigh and you feel him work two fingers into you. Fuck. He didn’t know that before.

And it’s not like he was ever bad in bed when you two were together. You’re not sure you would have stayed with him if that were the case. It’s just… he’s better now. He’s hitting everything nearly perfectly, not stumbling like he used to. He’s more confident. More assured. He knows what he’s doing.

And it’s fucking hot.

The sounds that fill his room are downright obscene. He’s gripping one side of you to keep you in place, splitting you open on his knuckles with the other. His mouth zeroes in on your clit, alternating between licking and sucking in a way that honestly has you close already.

“F-fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, Jamie. Don’t st— shit. Don’t stop. Please.”

Of course, the fucking shit he is, stops. He grins up at you, but continues to slowly pump his fingers in and out. “You sound so fucking pretty begging like that,” he tells you. He’s just as out of breath as you are. He feels you clench around his fingers at the praise and it only eggs him on further. “Look so pretty too. Fucking gorgeous.”

“Jamie,” you whine again. He’s going too slow. Teasing. It’s not fucking fair. He’s supposed to be the one apologizing to you. “I need— Ngh. I need—”

“What do you need?” he asks. “Tell me.”

You think you’d kill him if you weren’t completely incapacitated. “More,” you manage to get out, wincing as he continues at his slow pace. You’re close. Embarrassingly close. “Just fucking more. Please. I’m—” You interrupt yourself with a moan as he shoves his fingers deeper into you.

“I know,” he nearly coos. “I’ve got you.”

And got you he does. Because not only does he pick up the pace, he stretches you with a third finger. The sting of it is momentary, and it subsides as soon as he bends down and swipes your clit with his tongue.

Your back arches. “Jesus fucking— Jamie. Oh, my God.”

He’s good. Of course, he’s fucking good. He’s Jamie Tartt. You’re not sure he’s ever been bad at anything physical in his life. Emotionally was another story. But that story didn’t matter right now. Not when he’s got you like this, and you’re teetering over the edge.

He pulls away from you, breath tickling your core as he speaks. “C’mon,” he chides. “I can feel it. You’re right there, aren’t you, love?” He takes your breathy silence as confirmation and nods to himself. “Yeah. You just need—”

He removes one finger and crooks the rest a certain way, deeper than before. Your heart may stop beating. He’s done something he did to you time and time again, something that he was actually really fucking good at, something he knew you liked years ago. When he looks up at you, he searches your eyes. And by the way they roll back, he knows he’s struck gold.

The smirk returns and he continues to work his fingers into you, smirk growing each time he hears you say his name. “Yeah,” he whispers. “That’s it. That’s still it.”

You could finish at any moment. The telltale heat is rising in your stomach, and you’re just waiting for the cord to snap. And then, as if your muscle memory takes over, you reach out for his arm.

But instead of letting you do it like before, he does something completely different. He intertwines his free hand with the back of yours and guides it to your stomach. And then he presses on your hand.

The pressure builds. You’re barely able to make any noise. And then—

“C’mon,” Jamie repeats. “Come for me, angel. I wanna see it.”

The cord snaps, and you do as you’re told. You come. Hard.

Jamie talks you through it, fingers still moving to coax your climax out of you. You’re sure you look pathetic, crying out and thrashing around in his bed, but you don’t care. You can barely fucking see right now.

It’s been a while for you. Or at least been a while since you’ve had anything that good. And it completely strips away any sort of attitude or frustration you had before.

When you finally come back down, you laugh softly, shaking your head and throwing your arm over your face. “Fuck,” you say through a chuckle.

You feel him shift, moving up the bed to hover over you once more. When he removes your arm from your eyes, you see that he’s smiling. “Nobody’s ever laughed after I’ve done that,” he tells you, a faux pout pulling at his lips. He bends down to press them to yours and you can taste yourself. “It better be a good fuckin’ sign.”

You laugh again, reaching up to cup his cheek and pull him into another kiss. “Very good sign,” you assure him. It’s muffled against him, but you think he gets the point. 

It’s then that you catch him by surprise and flip the two of you over, straddling him in a way that makes him release a breathy sound that you’d missed dearly. But, something feels off.

Your glance down at him, expecting to feel or see fabric once you reach his leg. But there’s not much. Only what feels like boxer shorts. It catches you off guard. When did he take off his—

It doesn’t matter. It’s easier for you now. Especially as your fingers move across his abdomen, biting back a grin at the way he shudders. He looks up at you from his pillow.

“What are you doing?” he asks leadingly.

You shrug innocently, fingers toying with the band hanging low on his hips. “Returning the favor,” you reply. 

Jamie makes a noise of disapproval, placing a hand on your thigh like that’ll stop you. “I’m supposed to be the one making it up to you,” he states, but his voice gets less firm as you cup him through the fabric. “Fuck. Y-You don’t owe me anythin’. No favors.”

You shake your head, pulling at his boxers so that he springs free from inside. Your eyes travel back to his as you reach out and gently grab his cock, staring down at him with a smirk dancing on your lips. “You sure?”

He looks pained. You don’t know why. You’re offering a way to take him out of his misery. But still, he shakes his head and moves his arm from your leg to your back. 

He takes his turn to flip you over next. He swears under his breath as he does so, shaking his head when you land on your back.

“I told you,” he says, taking his boxers all the way off now. “It’s about you. Not me.” He shakes his head again, but this time it’s a bit more frustrated. When he speaks, it’s mostly to himself. “Can’t believe I just fuckin’ said no to that.”

A snort escapes you. “You’re a changed man, Jamie Tartt,” you joke.

He shrugs before placing his arms on either side of you. His voice teeters on teasing and earnest. “I’ve been trying to tell ya that.”

You’re not sure if it’s him, or the situation, or the sex, but you think you believe him. It makes your chest heavy. But you can’t admit that. You won’t let yourself. So, you keep that feeling tucked away, way in the back of your mind for safekeeping. You know it’s better like that. For your emotional sake, at least.

You allow yourself to prop yourself up on your elbow and kiss him instead of responding to that, bringing him in closer. You can feel the length of him press against your stomach, and his groan vibrates against your lips. 

He pulls away, grinding into you. The heat of your body is making him go wild. “Can I—”

You know what he wants. And you want it too. “Please,” you say. 

He nods, moving to angle himself against you. You glance down to watch him, heat flooding your face as he strokes himself before glancing up at you. You nod in return, giving him the confirmation he needs. Jamie grins.

He slides in you slowly. The stretch is mild but grows as he hovers over you once more. It’s easy to adjust, having been warmed up moments before. But for Jamie, it’s not as easy.

He bottoms out almost immediately, tensing over you. His head bows, chin falling to his chest. “Fuck,” he curses. It’s quiet but straight-up sinful. “God, fucking— you’re so—” You grip onto his bicep as he steadies himself. “I’m sorry. It’s just— i-it’s been a minute. And you’re f-fucking tight. Jesus.”

You don’t mind. He feels good like this, despite the fact he’s not moving. Your hand travels from his arm to his hair, tucking a piece of it behind his ear before settling on his jaw. “It’s alright,” you tell him. “We’ve got time.”

Jamie’s eyes snap open at that, but he’s not looking at you like you thought he would. You were expecting a cheeky sort of smile, a smirk, something in that realm. But he’s not. He’s looking at you like…

It’s something you can’t define. Something you’ve never seen before. It churns your stomach yet makes your heart race. Neither of you says a word.

He just dips down to kiss you again and slowly begins to move inside you. Your lips part in a gasp, and he slides his tongue in your mouth. Your back arches into him.

Before you know it, he's breaking from you and is breathing heavy against your neck. “Shit,” he groans. “You’re just— fuck. You…” He trails off, mouth hovering over your collarbone. “You drive me f-fucking mad. God, everything about you. Y-you don’t even know, do you?”

The pace picks up. He’s thrusting into you harder now and your nails dig into his back. You hear him hiss at the contact, but neither of you seem to care. “Fuck.” It’s all you can say. “Fuck, Jamie.”

He’s clearly not done talking. “How’d I-I fuck this up? Huh?” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself. His mouth is on your chest now and the feeling runs through you like fire. “Fucking idiot. Didn’t know what I had. Can’t believe I let you go.”

You clench around him and it throws him off kilter. You watch his jaw clench, hand beside you gripping the pillow you’re on. “You w-were an idiot.” Your agreement is much less effective when it’s closed out by a high-pitched moan.

“I know. Fuck, I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. Deserved better.” He continues to slam into you. “I wanna gi—” A strangled sound erupts from his lips. “Give you better. You’re so—” When he shakes his head, he looks wrecked. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Something about that sends a shock to your system. It makes you cry out and you can feel it. Your legs tremble around him. You’re close again. You’re really fucking close. 

He kisses you once more, deeper than before. It’s more frantic. Everything about him is more erratic. You can tell he’s getting there too. “Couldn’t stop,” he manages to get out, hot against your lips. “Couldn’t s-stop thinking about you. I missed you.” 

You clench around him again, the admission inching you closer. “Shit,” you say. “Fuck, Jamie, keep going.”

And keep going he does. His hand moves down your stomach, fingers finding your clit. He rubs circles into it and that sends you into a fucking tailspin. He swallows the sound you make. 

“Missed you,” he says again, but it’s more helpless. Jamie fucking whimpers. “God, I f-fucking missed you, angel. Missed you so fucking much, I—”

You don’t hear the rest of what he says because you come the second he makes that sound. It’s white-hot. Blinding. Your legs twitch around him and you claw at him as he continues to rub your clit. You’re loud, but you don’t give a shit. It seems to spur him on.

He’s not far behind you. He spills into you with a groan, stomach flexing as he heaves over you, twitching inside of you. You’re still recovering from your own high as you open your eyes to watch him. You catch his expression for a moment before he’s collapsing into you.

You release a soft ‘oof’ at the sudden weight of him. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and neither do you. You just breathe together. But after a moment you allow yourself to put a hand in his hair.

“You’re fucking heavy,” you tell him, but there’s not much bite in it.

You feel him chuckle. “Give me second,” he says. “Not as fuckin’ agile as I used to be. Took a lot out of me, alright?”

You roll your eyes but continue to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re twenty-six and like, the face of the AFC,” you tell him. “Richmond might have to shorten your contract if you’re dying after that.”

He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Take that up with me Chairwoman then.”

You can’t help but laugh as you push him off of you, wincing as you feel him slip out. He lands with the same noise you did. “If she heard you complaining like that, she’d be on my side.”

Jamie grins at you, joining in on your laughter. He shifts toward you, grabbing your hand to play with your fingers. “You’re probably right. Shouldn’t be complainin’,” he says. He lifts your hand to his lips. “Not when you’re here.”

They’re sweet words. The casualty of them makes your heart swell. But that anxiety about him returns. One time thing, you tell yourself. Apology. One time. That’s all.

You pull your hand back softly and he glances over at you. There’s a hint of worry in his eyes, like that one movement set off alarm bells in his head. You give him an uneasy smile.

Before you can move to get up or say anything or do something, he’s talking. And you have to refrain from wincing. 

“I know…” He looks away from you. Shy. “I know you said one time,” he says, as if he can read your fucking mind. “And that’s… That’s okay. I get that, yeah? But I—” Jamie wipes a hand down his face, staring at the ceiling. “I meant what I said. I missed ya. Really.”

You missed him too. But your walls have been rising back up since he started talking again. “I don’t know what you want me to do with that,” you tell him, only partially lying.

You feel like an asshole when he winces. Maybe you were being an asshole. Maybe it was finally your turn to do so. 

“Just…” He finally looks at you. “If you ever… don’t want this to be just a one-time thing.” He waves it off in an attempt to look casual. You know he’s anything but. “You’ve got my number. Or whatever.”

The timidness in his voice makes your resolve soften. Even if you don’t see him again, you suppose you can let him down easy. He’s been kind enough tonight to deserve that. You nod at him as you sit up. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll let you know.”

It’s only slightly awkward as you get out of his bed and search for your clothes. He asks if he can call you an Uber home and you reject it, letting him know that you’ve got one on the way.

You can feel his eyes on you as you dress, ignoring the way they burn into you. You can tell he’s searching for something to say, or something to talk to you about but doesn’t know what.

You’re half-dressed before he can shoot himself in the foot and say something stupid. “Hey,” he finally says. You glance over your shoulder at him after you slip your sweatshirt on. “I’m really glad you texted me.”

The nice streak you’re riding on continues and you offer a small but genuine smile in return. “Me too,” you admit, ignoring the way that his own soft smile pulls at your heartstrings. 

Before you leave his room, you offer one more admission. You stop in the doorframe he hit you against, lips curling further upward. “It was really good to see you, Jamie.”

He props himself up on his elbow, smile growing. “Good,” he says, nodding. Then, like a prick, he winks at you. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

You physically cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes and you hear him laugh to himself as you walkdown his hall. “Goodbye, asshole.”

He shouts a tired-sounding ‘bye!’ when you slip your shoes on, shaking your head as you look around his apartment once more. The candle on his counter is still burning, smelling of amber moss and palo santo.

You blow it out before you leave, knowing he’ll forget.

And as you do so, you feel yourself regress. Or grow. You’re not quite sure which one.

But it makes you curse under your breath and leave his flat immediately.

There is one more universal truth you forgot to mention. 

And that’s that the second you think you’re over Jamie Tartt, he comes back into your life and flips everything on its head. And it’s the only truth that’s been confirmed to you all week.

Because the second you arrive home and see that you have a text waiting for you, your heart picks up. You hate the way you get excited to see it.

I had a really good time tonight.

And the second he comes back into your life, you’re reminded that you’re not over him. Not even in the slightest. And it’s fucking debilitating. 

me too. 

And you know your friends are going to kill you the second you follow up with:

i’m free friday if you want to grab a drink.

[shitswiftiessay]

so taylor has put out another hit piece against joe (who’s surprised)

after buying winning the TIME person of the year award 2023, and having a gushing puff piece that’s supposed to paint her as this trailblazer for women and feminist icon…

she made sure to dedicate a significant portion of it to talking about her boyfriends. 🙄

so here are the cringeworthy excerpts where she’s talking about her latest victim boyfriend.

“Football is awesome, it turns out. I’ve been missing out my whole life.”

I love how she single handedly debunked the claim that swifties have been making, that taylor ALWAYS loved football and was a huge eagle fan (just bc she had an eagles shirt). now it’s basically confirmed that this football shit is just taylor’s newest PERSONALITY that she’s gonna wear for a few months, until she gets bored of it, and then she’ll throw travis under the bus and she’ll start siccing her fans against him.

“This all started when Travis very adorably put me on blast on his podcast, which I thought was metal as hell.”

god, someone bring me a BARF BUCKET please. 🪣 🤮 and since when is it “adorable” for a guy to PUT YOU ON BLAST because you wouldn’t go out with him or take his number?? that’s… very weird. i’m sure she wouldn’t find it “adorable” if she wasn’t interested in the guy. but anyway, i’m pretty sure she just saw an opportunity here and she took it. she can’t handle being single for more than a month, she needed a new man to make people forget about her matty healy era. and she’s LOVING the good press she’s getting for being “America’s royal couple” as her fans are calling them. but does she actually LOVE HIM? that, I remain yet to be convinced about.

and I love this part. “We would never be psychotic enough to hard-launch a first date.”

yeah, taylor’s not CRAZY you guys, it’s not like she said “I love you” to matty healy on stage back in may before breaking up with him 2 weeks later. nah. it’s not like she immediately bought a house next to her teenage boyfriend connor kennedy who was STILL IN HIGH SCHOOL when she started dating him. nah. that would be CRAZY. PSYCHOTIC even!!

and here comes the part where she starts passive aggressively smearing joe and we all know she’s on a smear campaign against joe now but it’s kind of pathetic that even while winning PERSON OF THE YEAR she has to make it about that.

so taylor obviously has a lot to say about her new relationship, and how proud they are of each other. but you know what I DON’T hear her saying? “I’m in love” or “I’m happy with him.”

and personally, i think that speaks volumes. if she was truly HAPPY with her new man she wouldn’t be doing all this shit. if you were around when taylor broke up with calvin and then immediately started hard-launching hiddleswift, taking pap photo after pap photo and being extremely “happy” she was and meeting his mom and all that shit…. and if you don’t see the parallels between what she’s doing NOW with travis, you’re either a blind fan or just flat out stupid.

because at least when she started dating joe she actually left her exes alone (at least for a little while), she was like “I forget their names now.” and you can tell she was happy without having to make a big show of it- “nobody’s heard from me for months, I’m doing better than I ever was.”

but now she’s acting like it’s the worst thing ever that she was “locking herself in her house for a lot of years,” and she KNOWS that her fans are going to take that and blame joe for it.

JUST LOOK at the quotes and replies of this tweet and this tweet to see how those insane fucking swifties are acting over this. EVERYTHING she does now is an incitement against joe and she knows it, it’s deliberate, it’s calculated.

and i guess she’s gotta bury him while she continues hanging out with a sexual abuse apologist so she can look like she has some kind of moral high ground.

also, the way she’s trying to erase the fact that 11 of the 15 songs on reputation were LOVE SONGS about joe, not “a goth-punk moment of female rage at being gaslit by an entire social structure.”

this woman is just narcissistic and straight up DELUSIONAL at this point. she’s so far up her own ass it’s nauseating. but i really hope that she keeps on talking. because the more she talks, the more people realise what a narcissistic clown she is. 🤡

[jaxxsoxxn]

Me, waving my fingers at Boomer, ominously: Ohhhh, you're gonna get projected on so harddd

Anyway, some hcs that will probably be mentioned in my future fics!

Boomer has horrid object permanence (totally not like me /s) - he can and will forget about some things unless they're right in front of him, the list of those includes: food, people, the whole idea of eating/hunger, sometimes clothes, plans.

Also, Flash adores it slightly, because when they're deeper into their relationship, every time he pops up (even if he was gone only for a second) he gets a kiss and a "'ello" mumbled to him softly. He abuses this power a lot.

Cap believes that anything that can fit in his mouth could be eaten. Does not question if it should be eaten.

He was born in a small town/village in Australia, everyone knew everyone type of thing. Sadly that also meant that everyone knew he was a bastard in the literal meaning of the word.

Loves his mother, does not believe she loves him. Thinks that she's just a good person, that's why she took such a good care of him. She does love him, btw.

I usually hc that she died when he was pretty young, leaving him alone, but in a world where she didn't, she'd love Barry.

"Not only ya gave me a son-in-law, ya also gave me two premade grandchildren?! Oh Digi, lov!"

Digger absolutely dies of embarrassment every time she calls them not only her grandkids but also says they came "premade" or "prebuilt"

Wally calls him sarcastically Digi once and Boomer looks him dead in the eyes and says "I'm fucking with your father figure."

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, Wally...

If Owen lives, I'd imagine he's actually pretty close to Wally in age, if not even older, since Boomer's like 45 years old in my head.

Wally, 22 years old, looking at his new "step-brother" who's 25 years old and looks totally unbothered about the new family he aquaried (he knows every single Flash fam member while none of them know even his name for the first few months)

Owen is a lot like his father, but I'd imagine he's softer around the edges than his dad. Also, lesser accent, since he moved a lot, most of his life.

Owen had rough teenage years, but Boomer was a rock trough them. Good for them.

Flash fam takes a lot of time to get used to two different speedsters - usually the biggest difference is the fact they're use reverse Speedforce or smth alike, but this time Digger is a straight-up fake speedster, while Owen isn't one (even if he has patience of one), though his agility is through the roof. (In some versions, while Owen is! A speedster, he only throws his boomerangs superfast, instead of running! Which is, like, crazy)

At the moment, Owen is acting rather careless. He's well known around most of the Rouges, which also means that if anyone is trying to get to them, they might focus on him. He might or might not ignore the danger fully and deem it "silly"

Flash fam, when they start getting used to them, are actually easily swayed towards Owen. Digger doesn't hold it against them, using "once a rogue, always a rogue" excuse, while the truth was simple: Owen was a kid or practically a kid to most of them - he's easily impressed and not many things can beat the excited kid looking at you like ya hung the stars & moon in the sky Those hcs took a while to get out, but here they are (maybe bc I got fully into Owen at some point while writing them, oops-)

[love-killed-the-superstar]

The Last Ronin 2: Re-Evolution Issue #1 LIVEBLOG

SPOILERS ABOUND. I'M NOT GOING TO BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS IT'LL PROBABLY GET SUPER LONG

Okay so Casey Marie's muscles are something I'm never going to get over. SHE LOOKS GOOD!!!!! Her getup is feeling a little too reminiscent of a cape-wielding superhero for my tastes to be honest - I really loved the more practical outfits she wore in TLR Lost Years, especially in issue 4 when she was running the training mission for the kids. But ah well, I'm sure this will grow on me. It may not be practical (edna's law of no capes is coming to mind, also PLEASE TIE YOUR HAIR UP WHEN YOU'RE FIGHTING GIRL!!!) but it's very cunty anyway which I appreciate

Straight up thought she killed this guy - what was that sound effect if he's still able to walk??? I fr thought she snapped his neck

IDK if we needed a whole 8 pages of punching and kicking to exposition dump what we kinda already knew from what's been shown in the lost years (esp the lost day special) but IT'S FINE IG... NOW ONTO THE BABIES

SORRY, SORRY. TEENAGERS NOW.

GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET. We're ALREADY getting the leo-v-raph adjacent dynamic with these two and I'm living for it. if one of them drops a stone cold 'fearless leader' jab i will lose my shit

HI? HELLO, EXCUSE ME, MIND-TALKING? PICTURES IN HEAD? ARE WE A FAMILY THAT LUCID DREAMS OR SOMETHING?!?? I DON'T REMEMBER THIS BEING SOMETHING THEY COULD DO?? every new speech bubble here is like a punch to the gut, wdym telepathy wdym secret lair wdym honouring everything master splinter taught you???? (although i'm proud that when this panel dropped on news sites i was immediately like THAT ISN'T THE KITCHEN FROM LOST YEARS. turns out it was a Secret Lair TM)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Seance -- TURTLES COUNT IT OFF!!

not gonna screenshot the whole backstory but they're basically doing a telepathic puppet show explaining the backstory and it's pretty much the mirage origins with a bit of extra tlr flair. as always it HURTS ME seeing the turtles dying so thanks for that tlr2 :'')) icb these kids watch a mind movie of their uncles dying every fucking night. yall are messy

SOBBING AND CRYING,, I WISH YOU'D ALL HAD THE CHANCE TO KNOW HIM TOO!!!!!! I WISH YOU'D GOTTEN TO KNOW ALL OF THEM!!!!! (tlr splinter doesnt count tho because hes a dick)

there was a cool sequence of them rooftop hopping n stuff but i wont cover it bc we already saw it in a bunch of news articles weeks ago

i just did the SHARPEST INHALE. casey marie you and your beautiful muscular arms have aged like the finest wine

YI NO!!!!!

lmaooo moja is JUDGING your taste in women u two

lots of text... blah blah blah jobs, crimerates, blah blah... jiro in pig uniform jumpscare.. casey marie i thought u were going to fix him :(((

YESSSSS KIDS ARE GOING ON A MISSION WITH THEIR MOM, LETS FUCKING GOOOOO

MY BABIES ARE KICKING ASS!!!!!

....,.HUH

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY BABY BOY ODIE!!!!!!!!!!! WHO DID THIS TO HIM!!!!!!???? WHAT??!???? HUH/1?!!? EXCUSE ME????

I'M . LIKE WHAT DO I EVEN SAY TO THIS. IT CAME OUT OF NOWHERE??? WHAT IS GOING ON!!!

FINAL THOUGHTS:

dude that first issue was wordy but the kids were ON POINT. they were so fun!! their dialogue is fun and they kick ass.

i loved yi announcing the punishment for casey while the others were like NOO SHE DIDNT MEAN THAT DONT LISTEN TO HER. we're getting more of their personalities and it's great!! it was a nice throwback to issue 2 of lost years when they were cleaning - yi refused to help because of how strictly she was following instructions. im picking up that she might be neurodivergent but i did get that from the lost years too - only doing things within strict instructions, getting frustrated at teaching odyn chess, not because of him playing horseys with the knights but that it was Against The Rules Of Chess - and now not picking up on some social cues. It's nice to see!! I love her very much, but it feels like besides rehashing the origin story she took a bit of a backseat to the other three.

i want to know more about why uno said being a rebel was moja's 'thing', since she didn't seem to be any more rebellious than the other three in this issue. we didn't get any unique interactions between her and casey marie which is what i felt was lacking from lost years but i wonder if this is hinting towards a more turbulent mother-daughter dynamic with them... I REALLY HOPE SO!! her and uno butting heads in a leo-raph way is very fun - i don't mind one or two prior group dynamics leaking into the new turtle siblings because they're all so different from the original 4.

uno seems to be taking on slightly more of a leader role than moja so i think he won the title of fearless leader. which is fine, i think it'll be fun to see and he's definitely less of an asshole now than when he was growing up in lost years. still picking on odyn a bit but seems to snipe at moja just as much. even when he was commenting on yi's storytelling he didn't make fun of her, though - i think she may have inherited the 2k3 don ability of being Completely Unbullyable.

i was really pleased that odyn felt more involved!! i feel like he took the backseat a few times in lost years - it was fun seeing more of his personality shine through! he and yi seem to get on the best, and i giggled at them rolling their eyes at moja and uno's raph-leo schtick. i didn't expect him to TURN TO FUCKING STONE THOUGH, so i'm nervous about that. WHAT DOES IT MEAN? WHO DID THIS TO MY BOY? IS HE GOING TO TURN BACK NEXT CHAPTER OR IS HE OUT OF COMMISSION UNTIL THE END OF THE RUN??? (if it's the latter i'll be a bit annoyed - don't take odyn away from the equation please!!)

I do wonder if by introducing casually that they can PSYCHICALLY CONNECT, the turtles will use that as a technique to reach odyn's mind to make sure he's still in there and piece together what's happened to him. i mean, their casual telepathy has gotta be some sort of chekhov's gun right?

and shit.... april was so fucking mad casey took the babies out so she's going to EXPLODE when she finds out what happened to her baby boy, her beloved favourite, her baby odyn :''(( im giggling rubbing my hands together waiting for the fallout but also if she cries i might cry too. speaking of april, she seems to be working on a new project and i saw nano particles mentioned - are we going to have a roninverse version of nano in this run???? I NEED MY ROBOT SON

as always, casey marie... u have aged like fine wine. u are stunning. disappointed that ur still believing that jiro can do good as a cop when their entire police force and government is corrupt as fuck. just feels very naive of her. i'm excited to see her break down at the concept of losing odyn - in fact i need everyone to mourn this beautiful kid. they tell us so much that shes a super clingy helicopter mom and i am picking up on the strict part, but it would be nice to see more of her just... hugging her kids. holding them. i get why she didnt in this issue but id love more mama casey squishing their cheeks and kissing their foreheads.

i have zero fucking clue what's going on with odyn. im wondering if it's somehow related to nano, or to whatever project April is working on - she says it's to do with clearing the tunnels, but I''m not convinced. who knows, there might be some ulterior motive happening.

Anyway, that's the end of my liveblog!! thanks for reading all the way to the end... go read it wherever you read ur comics!!!

[trainingdummyrabbit]

oooooooobhhhh...... would it be alright if you talked abt ur ocs......... if it's not a bother.......

stands here like some sort of beast . this took me two days. im so sorry. inhales

i can absolutely talk abt my ocs yeah :D never ever a bother!!

this is rose and wolfe! theyre two of my lobcorp ocs whom i love very dearly :] they (and the rest of their group) have their own lil story going on, but i say that very loosely bc im just having fun honestly ^_^ and they sure do love making decisions that make that Rather Difficult For Me. but alas, anyhow,

this is inevitably going to get Pretty Fucking Long! (post-post edit. ~35 paragraphs.) so if youre prepared for that. 👍 yippy!! anyway hope you like fucked up little lesbians bc here we go

im probably going to be retreading ground here a bit bc im gonna try and take it from the top, but also because i dont remember what ive said and what i havent so ill just say whatever i remember ^_^

the basic gist of th storyline is that its kind of a pseudo-murdermystery but instead of dying u get turned into some sort of beastie ! ^_^ aka 'nobody knows what the distortion phenomenon is yet and are kinda too busy freaking out about it to notice headquarters exploded last week'. dont worry about that.

slaps notes on the table. this is gonna be really messy and maybe kinda incomprehensible but its ok bc this is just how its going to be. hope this helps.

OK LISTEN. they started out as one thing and then slowly kinda turned into something else and theyve been haunting me for months but they make talking about them Literally Impossible because of how much they just. fucking cling to each other, narratively. its impossible. they make everything so fucking difficult.

wolfe is some offshoot of a take on those Edgy Playground Wolf Ocs that you see a lot in middle school-- or well, thats the root of it. she was always going to be played fully seriously, but everyone was kinda written more silly-like towards the beginning anyhow. yknow, one of those 'orphan lab experiment who pretty much had to take care of themself and really hates people, with Cool Mysterious Powers theyre really conflicted about' type characters. and honestly a lot of that still sticks, really.

she presents herself in a kind of over-the-top way to try and get people to take her seriously and leave her alone, but honestly its just kind of . offputting.. in a way, shes kind of a stand-in for what its like to be a teenager (neurodivergence notwithstanding). sometimes the only thing you can do to get people to listen to you is to make a scene and yell really loud! and everyone will always discredit it as just something that happens while growing up, being "disobedient" because you want attention or want to be rebellious and contrary, but everything you feel IS real and it DOES hurt and nobody BELIEVES you so all you can do is yell LOUDER. its all theyll respond to. (and all it does is make people double down on what they think of you.)

wolfe is a character that is honestly kind of genuinely a bit extra, a little bit embarrassing, but very genuine. a lot of her life was spent not being able to decide what happened to her physically; just kinda pulled and prodded around whether she liked it or not; (again, the whole orphan lab experiment thing was never a lie.) and thrashing around is really all she can do about it. be inconvenient, irritating, hard to deal with; any small victory, any little foothold would do. unfortunately, most of what that's ever done is make things harder for herself. (she hates being expected to be something convenient to others, yet in her attempts to cast it away, forms her worldview to the dichotomy they set up around her. curious !)

so you have this fucked up lil thing and drop her into an lcorp facility. great superb fantastic. n then you give her some ego gear and it messes her up Big Time because guess what, her body is all sorts of fucked up and is Not reacting well with this whole thing, causing it to quite literally Stick and all those 'mild' side effects are now 'major' side effects and everyones Fussing over you again because youre an Anomaly and you Dont get any rest and youre still getting used to a body and mind that isnt Quite what it was before and you Cant leave since they need to figure out whats going on here and Oh God Fucking Damn It Its Again.

so its pretty fair that shes being Like That about the whole thing all things considered.

at this point shes just trying to make it through day by day without someone prodding her about something or another, just stop Staring at her already, fuck off. just one foot in front of the other and try not to think about it too hard. thumbsup 👍 more often than not she works alone; not just because of her own decisions, but also did you know cobalt scar gets a boost on low hp for the exchange of activating friendly fire? pretty crazy. shes kinda reckless and bound to get herself hurt anyway, so it doesnt really Change anything to just kinda.. send her out there without backup. not like she works well with others anyway, right? itd be pretty dangerous to pair her up with someone n all. yknow.

it kinda sucks, yknow? at this point shes so fucking tired of The Everything that honestly she just wants to get in and get out as quickly as possible without having to deal with any nonsense. shes still really pissed off about the entire Situation, still trying to keep any small bit of autonomy she gets to have, but like. well. sometimes it really is easier to just Do Your Job And Leave. finish your tasks and not think about it and not bother with anyone and fuck off until you have to do it again. thats how it always wouldve been anyway, right? easy. annoying. so, so annoying. god she fucking hates it here.

so anyway, rose. she sucks. she doesnt, but i have to say it every time i talk about her Or Else. shes the reason i have such a hard time talking about The Everything. and also why i had to rewrite this and take Two Days getting to it. she is just. So Much. shes an idiot. shes too smart for her own good. she would fit right in as a YA novel protagonist. this is all stalling on trying to explain what the hell is wrong with her.

honestly on a surface level shes pretty chill all things considered. mostly stays in her lane, gets along with people pretty easily, just kinda goes here, pretty good at small talk. she loves listening to people. she Loves listening to people. the problem. she isnt lying, per se, about her entire Presentation and general manner of being, but she isnt really honest either. shes disingenuous. kind of.

rose as a character is Very aware of how people act, and why they choose what they do in what situations. as such, she has gotten very good at Acting A Part rather than actually Living It. she loves listening to people because she wants to know who they are. not in a "i want to get to know my coworkers ^_^" type of way but in a "writing down all your character traits and quirks to record your habits" type of way. a weird sort of genre-awareness. she is very Very easily able to track exactly what type of person someone is and adjust the way she acts around them to... any sort of effect she wants to, honestly. mostly its just quelling dumb spats and getting people to stop being stupid like people tend to do, but every so often she isnt exactly averse to just kinda... messing with people. only a little! but she Could, if she Wanted to. which she doesnt. because shes nice.

rose sees interpersonal interaction as a complex 'game'. not by that name, but by that function. everyone always Expects something, in engaging with another, and all it really is at its core is getting what you want without giving too much ground. to figure out who the Other is without them figuring out who You are. its a competition. to understand what another person Is is what gives you the advantage. to know is to win, to be known is to lose. keep your cards as close to your chest as you can, and they cant control you. easy. its something everyone Does, but only a few acknowledge. she was just good enough to learn.

but like, admittedly, shes very chill. shes literally nice? like yeah all that but she is literally nice. shes fine. shes like... fine? shes all right. like Yeah it sounds bad when you put it like that but she is literally nice.

rose plays a lot with the idea of Symbol. shes a fully realized person, yeah, but she was never Expected to be. she exists mostly as a formality, and she knows thats all that was really expected of her. she was there to Fulfill An Ideal and little else; so she reaches for what she can when she can. be Sweet and Simple and Pretty-- that's all. and she isnt, she knows this, but it sure does make things simple when thats all people know of you. (impossible for people to dig for information people dont think exists.)

a flower in a broken vase unsure if its defined by the petals or the holes. shes someone intrinsically frustrated by the rules that define her, but is unable to comprehend a self without it. clinging to it because its the sole point of control she feels she can Have over things, but wishing to cast it aside to self realize and prove that shes worth the time of day to acknowledge. (she doesnt care what her caretakers thought of her, but still she defines her actions based on their idea of her. curious !)

so you have these two in the general vicinity of one another right.

rose initially interacts with wolfe as almost a game. a test, even. just to see if she could get anything out of the weird one that sulks in a corner by themself, refusing to interact with anyone. shes just curious, yknow? and wolfe, obviously, takes this about as well as you think she would. dont you have better things to do?? stop asking about my fucking hobbies. ..rose could always count on her for a reaction.

wolfe was very, Very resistant to playing along much at all. she thought that giving just simple brush-off responses would get her to get the hint that it wasnt worth bothering, but then rose would come back with more questions building off of whatever they'd talked about, just... idly talking at her. a frequent annoyance turning into just. consistent background noise. yeah this might as well be happening. but even still, the amount of things that rose remembered and considered and genuinely seemed to listen to kind of caught her off guard. it was... weird. it was really really weird.

it wasnt really all that hard to read what wolfe was feeling at any given moment. it was kind of funny, honestly, especially with how she tended to present herself. (honestly, how did everyone else just Miss all of this?) but after some time, rose was surprised to find that she started to just... speak to her frankly. it was stark, only every so often, almost as if she didnt realize the shift in her own tone. its around then that rose started piecing things together herself and... oh. ohh. (how did everyone just miss all of this?)

Bad News Motherfuckers! Its Fucking Over For Both Of You! wolfe finds someone who is genuinely willing to listen to her on the sole drive of simply Understanding Her, rather than wanting something in exchange, wanting something From her; and rose. god. she finds a reflection of exactly what she wishes she couldve been, things she couldve done, were she not shaped into what she Is. an understanding of something she'd never acknowledged, never knew was there, but was there with her the entire time. someone with a clear understanding of what they are, willing to fight tooth and nail to keep it, regardless of what anyone or anything else tries to do with them. things that the narrative constantly tries to take from them; things that rose wants so desperately to let wolfe keep.

so yknow, girl things. THIS is where things get really annoying.

rose seemed to enjoy messing with wolfe just for fun, but honestly shes just kinda taken by her honesty. she doesnt ever seem to have any ulterior motives when shes around her, she just… is. and does. because she wants to. rose honestly isnt really sure how to handle someone who isnt just… mildly bluffing at all times, especially about connection. that level of vulnerability is scary to her. so she teases her. she expects her being flustered-- and she is-- but still, she finds herself caught off guard by wolfe's earnestness.

even so, rose catches herself being far more open than she intends to be-- accidentally, at first, against her better judgement, but then tentatively, almost as if to test the waters. just how much could she show of herself and still uphold that trust? how many red flags can she put up before wolfe notices? no, that was unfair. before it becomes unforgivable. before it recontextualizes her. she cares, yes, genuinely and deeply so. (but what does that mean, coming from her?) she wants wolfe to be safe. (im asking you to leave.)

wolfe and rose both trust each other to a degree that they dont trust many others. its the passive understanding that theyre very much alike, and the even more silent knowledge that they want better for each other; in a roundabout way of knowing that they themselves deserved better, no matter how much they insist otherwise.

theyre very genuine with each other in a way that kind of surprises themselves. neither of them quite know what theyre doing, nor do they want to put a name to something so fleeting, but… its there.

wolfe desperately wants to be closer to rose, but hates that she desires that vulnerability. (it was always rather dangerous, showing your hand like that.) its an annoying fondness, constantly prickling at the back of her head any time rose is even remotely relevant. even when she isnt. shes kind of haunted. shes very defensive of her in a way she honestly doesnt realize until someone points it out. it just comes naturally to her. (whats the difference between a guard dog and an attack dog again..? (is she really ready to deal with the implications of this? is this not just having another will enacted on you? how does she really feel about that?))

rose, meanwhile, is… actually also conflicted. she likes wolfe. this is obvious. it wasnt intended, and she can roll with it, but it's… complicated. she handles it a lot more analytically. she notices when wolfe takes a step forward, and matches it in turn. equivalent exchange, and all. show that youve noticed, that you care, that youre paying attention. (i think she may be afraid. despite her presentation, she's afraid.)

she acknowledges the feeling of desire in this bond-- she wants wolfe to be able to live outside of others' influence. desperately. (if she cant, then…) she refuses to acknowledge what this says of Herself, though. but most importantly, she knows how easy it would be to simply take the role of someone who controls her. (isnt that just what she's always done to others?) she hates the idea of becoming that. (it would be so easy.) goes out of her way to avoid influencing her in that way-- but somehow, this just makes her more distant. hesitant to touch.

and with that fear, she tends to react, again, logically. tries to solve it like a puzzle, like she always has. finds the shortest distance to a perceived goal. this makes her rather distant, disconnected-- shes trying to control her own feelings by controlling what is around it.

what this means, most importantly, is that she is unable to trust wolfe the way She trusts her. she isnt strong enough to push back against what she sees of herself, or that which she uses to protect herself. giving in to those well-walked patterns instead of being able to brave uncertainty in something that new. she hides herself because she isnt sure what will become of her-- and is too afraid to risk what may come of losing the person she suddenly deeply cares about. setting herself up to crash harder should the worst happen. because she would simply blame herself. proving herself right.

meanwhile wolfe is dealing with Actually Trusting Someone for the first time in longer than she can remember, whether she likes it or not. maybe she was being stupid. maybe this was just a foolish foray into trusting people like she’d always told herself not to do. but… but. rose just brought this sense of comfort wherever she went, this feeling of certainty.

it was never good to let your guard down, but… but just this once, she so badly wanted to. once you let these things go, it becomes harder to get them back. she knew this. and yet, all the parts of her that protested were overruled by a deep desire to simply lie down and fall asleep in that comforting feeling. how frustrating. how annoying. how dangerous. now she had someone she could not argue against. and yet, she held this advantage as if she did not know it was one she wielded, a dangerous thing held without intent. was this trust? …did she want it to be?

and so, foolishly perhaps, she decided to trust. it was a tenuous thing, unbeknownst to anyone but herself. …probably. rose did have a way of seeing right through people. but even through all that, through the Everything… it felt nice to have someone to look out for. someone to worry about, someone on your mind when there used to be nobody else but you. she’d spent so long worrying about the repercussions of leaving your back to someone, yet she’d never known the comfort of having someone do the same to you. she’d never realized how hard it was to do much of anything with fangs bared the entire way. the ache of worry was dull compared to the weight of silence. (she would give her Everything to her. all or nothing, with her. maybe this was simply part of the inevitable problem.)

hey remember the whole turning-into-creatures thing? yeah thats still happening. crazy right? anyway. The Problem.

so you have people turning into things not quite unlike abnormalities, expressions of deep fears and desires running away with what used to be a human. and youve got some fucked up little guy with a Lot of barely repressed issues thats deceptively easy to mess with and actively averse to anybody really reaching out to them whatsoever.

and then rose is trying her best to figure out whats causing all this bullshit going on, but also her . coworker. is suddenly acting Really snappy and distant and its kinda starting to make her worried and she doesnt want to push her but shes looking really rough lately and fuck. wait. god. wait. shit.

long inhale. so you have two stupid motherfuckers 100% willing to drop everything and kill everyone in this facility and then themselves if anything so much as happens to the other (but theyre super normal about it, its fine, the other doesnt have to know.) theyre so good at this interpersonal interaction thing guys they swear (dont look too close though ok haha.) theyre sooo unknowable guys theyre really pulling a fast one on everyone here. they Definitely know what to do to fix the problem forever its fine they totally get it. dont stop them.

anyway heres a bunch of images for no reason

[sapphire-weapon]

I think the fact that so many people want to label Leon/Ashley as canonically "sibling- coded" is because they feel threatened in the way they view other of Leon's relationships, they can tell Leon and Ashley have chemistry and they try to convince themselves that they have a familial bond going on (like Ellie/Joel) so that they can justify not shipping them and making people who ship it feel bad/weird.

Because nowadays so many people can't just dislike something, they have to make up a reason why it's morally wrong and unacceptable so that way they can bully people that think differently and feel like their own personal opinions are objective and right while everyone else is wrong smh. This is mostly the case with younger fans (tho a lot of people older than me does this too lmao) so that's why I don't really find it frustrating bc it's most likely they have limited real life experience. Plus they might not be that good at interpreting canon from contextual clues yet.

In my case though I think a lot of these people are actually doing the opposite tbh because to me it just shows that they recognize that Ashley's relationship with Leon is real and they can't even concede that they're friends in the canon because they know it could lead to something else if followed through in the story, they admit there's potential there subconsciously with how hard they try to make it seem otherwise with nonsense claims. It's like when insecure guys feel uncomfortable but try to seem tough by buying big trucks and having guns on them all the time lmao.

So, I've talked about this before -- about how the "sibling coded" or "problematic age gap" discourse is just modern-day fandom's way of slutshaming and engaging in casual misogyny in a societally acceptable way.

I'm pretty confident in saying that anyone in my generation who slaps "siblings" on Leon and Ashley are probably people who have another ship and have had it for a while and don't want Ashley getting in the way of it, tbh LMAO

Like.... my generation has co-opted the current generation's vernacular, but make no mistake about the kind of bitches we are. We're ship war bitches. That's all we've ever been AND WE ARE NOT GOING TO CHANGE OUR WAYS NOW fjdskfh

But if we're talking about the current generation...

Media illiteracy is a big factor in this. It's no secret to anyone that the US education system took a massive shit starting in the late aughts/early 2010s, and things like critical reading skills aren't being taught in schools anymore.

I graduated high school in 2007. Two years later, I went back to visit an old English teacher to get a letter of recommendation, and he was lamenting to me that he'd just given up. It wasn't worth trying to explain the deeper themes of Beowulf to kids who didn't care, because the only thing that mattered was getting them to pass standardized tests.

So, now, without an overt, explicit declaration of love or something visually concrete like a kiss, kids literally do not have the skills to parse through a text and pick out themes and tropes and use of symbolism and imagery. They were never taught how to do it.

But there's a more culture-based thing happening here, I think. It's this fucking mess of a cocktail of internalized misogyny paired with learned helplessness, social anxiety, intense sheltering possibly exacerbated by the pandemic shutdowns, peer pressure, and internet purity culture.

I think it's pretty safe to say that fandom is predominantly made up of women and teenage girls. That was true in the 60s in Star Trek fandom, it was true in my generation, and it's still true today. And what I've seen happening today is that young women are absolutely terrified of their own sexual agency -- because the internet keeps telling them that, if you're under 18, it is wrong and bad and unacceptable for you to engage with anything even remotely sexual and how dare you express your sexuality -- and you'd better not do it not just because it's wrong and bad, but also because you are GUARANTEED TO BE PREYED UPON IF YOU DO. SEX IS DANGEROUS ALL OF THE TIME AND YOU'RE LITERALLY TOO YOUNG AND TOO STUPID TO UNDERSTAND ANYTHING SO DON'T TRY TO EVEN THINK ABOUT IT. Because if you're 17 and he's 18, he's a pedophile!!!!!!!!

I just.

So, we've now basically turned an entire generation of young women into the same type of young women who created the BL genre in Japan. These are women who were too afraid to explore their sexuality on their own, and it felt safer to do it with two male characters, because it was always more "okay" for men to be sexual. This is happening here in the West, now.

Slash ships have always been a thing in the West, but not to the degree that they are today. In today's fandom, if you have an M/F ship at all, you are outnumbered by at least 3:1 -- because M/M just "feels" safer for a lot of the current generation.

So, I think young women look at the Remake portrayal of Ashley Graham, and they identify with her. A lot. They're probably around her age, and her personality is very relatable to the kind of girls who play video games. Ashley's clearly introverted, but she's a fast learner who just wants to help, and she's got a good heart and a weird, kind of awkward sense of humor.

And, not only do these girls identify with Ashley, they're probably thirsty as fuck for Leon.

But that's terrifying to them.

Because they have been taught to fear their own sexual agency. The idea that an attractive, traditionally masculine, older man would be romantically or sexually interested in them is immediately categorized in their brains as wrong and bad -- and they don't want to think of Leon in that way.

So... for them, it can't be romantic. It can't be sexual. But there's clearly something there, but Leon would never abuse or prey on anyone so... that bond must be a perfectly innocent familial affection. That's what it is. That's what it has to be, because anything else forces them to face the uncomfortable reality even young women like them go on dates and have sex -- and sometimes, it's with men like Leon.

So, they thirst over Leon at a safe distance through Luis, primarily. Or they self-indulge on reader fic, because that's so much easier to write off as "just a fantasy" and not a statement on who Leon actually is as a character.

And it's just kind of sad, man. It sucks to see this happen to an entire generation of young women.

That's why I don't really get mad when I see the "siblings" shit out in the wild. I just feel sad for those people -- because they can't just say "I don't like the ship." They're so insecure and neurotic that they have to think of a reason why the ship is literally impossible to ever happen so that they don't have to be worried about it.

One day, they'll finally suck a dick for themselves and learn that it's not that serious. It's really fuckin not. Dicks are stupid, and the boys that are attached to them are even dumber.

[massiveladycat]

second thoughts about bloodmarked

hey! you can see the first rant in like my blog. but i just had a thought. considering my first small rant was talking about yk ahaha the whole love plot thing i'm PRAYING that is like a 'haha sike' from tracy and the series makes a comeback, i'm just gonna talk about things OTHER than the love triangle that gets on my last nerve! reminder: you don't have to read allat, and this is jst my thoughts and i'd love to hear yours in the reblogs! TW: rape mentioned, racism mentioned (if any of these trigger you, PLEASE do not read further!) it kind of bothered me that every interaction that bree had with another black person all felt very business like interactions... the last part of the book to be wrapped up in the ROOT (get it) of bree's character, her ancestry, she felt a little distant from it and other black people and root users yk?? and then we get bree complaining how vera fucked over all her descendants (i will be talking abt this. this ESPECIALLY gets me bothered) and something about it rubbed me the wrong way also just mentioning something i find funny when bree like absolutely WRECKED alice. why did she suplex homegirl like this. hit her with the ddt. the rock bottom. stone cold stunned her ass.  wwe wrestler bree is so real LMFAO. going on with my rant what finally pissed me off so much that i thought "if i throw this book im justisfied" is when Vera, a fucking desperate enslaved person trying to keep her family safe is made subject to the vitriol of a bratty teenage girl. let's run back vera's plot. vera was raped by a scion of arthur, and became pregnant with her child. this was during the years where slavery was okay and you could treat people like shit depending on the color of their skin. vera had to run because she was being hunted down because the order thought "uh uh! our next scion of arthur CANT be black" and vera ended up making a deal (a deal tht i forgot) to protect her family. i'm pretty sure something ended up hunting down every one of vera's descendants slowly but surely, and bree was mad that her ancestor had gone through so much that she sits there in the farm where vera was RAPED and calls all her ancestors over there, yells at them until she gets to vera. and then she rants and tells her to get lost and insults her all bc bree is really mad ! okay, bree, girl, i would be mad too if a demon was hunting me down. what i would not do is take it out on a desperate slaved ancestor in the spot where a lot of her trauma took place. wtf bree? okay btw wondering if tracy even likes nick? at all? is she like deciding ''should i fuck him up or should i leave him be.'' he was actually nice to bree from the start while sel showed red flags of being racist af. he loves bree, wants to protect her, makes decisions because he's thinking of her and sometimes hes flawed and thats okay! nobody's perfect! and he LISTENS to her. in legendborn nick thought bree had cheated on him with sel. seeing him like so distraught made ME freak out. like girl if you don't fix this... and then Bloodmarked pulled him aside, and benched him. bree and sel are kissing in a forest of fireflies while nick is running for his life from his parents and a merlin. he deserved better than to be freaking cheated on when he thinks he's abt to die like every moment. when he is literally a HOSTAGE of the man who was supposed to protect him (his father) and a freaking merlin people talking about ''hey!! lancelot betrayed arthur!! nick could betray bree!! coincidence?? i think NOT!!" no. bree betrayed nick. i love you bree but get it together and please admit to nick you cheated on him and kissed sel repeatedly while he was a hostage. and he BETTER not be happy abt it. nobody's happy after getting cheated on and nobody's quick to forgive after being cheated on. all in all:

[apollos-boyfriend]

Dont know much about p5, why do you have morgana? Just curious

i'm preemptively putting this under the cut bc i KNOW it's going to get long but tl;dr: he's an annoying character that's poorly written. the conflict around his arc is badly done, and most of the time, he insults others for no reason and praises himself like a god. i would kill him if i could

SO. yes i took down notes of what i wanted to say before starting this. there is a Lot to get through.

first things first. during the first arc, when his character is introduced, we are also introduced to ann. ann is a pretty, charismatic girl, whose story largely revolves around people being unable to see past her looks, and she is both judged and sexualized for her appearance. she is also a teenager, which isn't Super important to morgana necessarily, but it's still weird, as morgana is 1. a cat (or a cat-like monster, depending on what form he's taking) and 2. unknown in age, acting anywhere from a child throwing a tamper tantrum to an older and more experienced mentor figure. at no point does morgana make an effort to treat ann like anything other than a subject for his affections. he only refers to her as "lady ann", praises her for the same thing he belittles others for, and overall, 99% of his interactions with her revolve around his attraction to her appearance and nothing more. he treats ann like they're destined to be together, and part of his end goal to "become human again" is because of his need to woo her over and claim her as his. it's unnecessary, it's annoying, and it's especially infuriating because the point of ann's character is to see past her appearance, something morgana never truly does. he compliments her smarts and actions because he likes her romantically, not necessarily because he genuinely thinks what she says and does is the best course of action.

second of all. in the same first arc, you're also introduced to ryuji. ryuji is the first character you meet, before morgana and ann, and the first friend you make at your new school. ryuji is seemingly bone-headed at times, but he's a passionate, caring kid who would do anything to protect his friends and family. he's by far one of the most beloved characters in the game, as he's just a good kid that's gotten wrapped up in some bad situations, and ostracized because of that fact. morgana makes fun of ryuji CONSTANTLY. and while, in all fairness, ryuji does make fun of morgana sometimes as well, it's not nearly as bad as morgana's treatment of ryuji. every word out of ryuji's mouth has morgana firing back with "of course an idiot like you would say that" or something equally as belittling. while ryuji is shown to not be a very booksmart character, he's extremely perceptive and in-tune with people's emotions. it's annoying and irritating to see morgana, who is, in all honesty, much worse than ryuji intellectually and emotionally, constantly punching down on him for simply breathing in his direction.

which leads me to the next point. one of the worst parts of persona 5 hits during a climatic argument between ryuji and morgana, as at this point, morgana has felt as if he’s “useless” towards the team and they would be better off without him. to begin with, morgana doesn’t even VOICE these concerns until they pile up. the game treats it like we’re supposed to pity him, as we, the player, see all these scenes of him moping and complaining about how useless he feels, but it means nothing because none of the fucking characters see that. they do not know he feels this way and therefore don’t know that they’re doing anything wrong. when he DOES finally voice these concerns, leading to the aforementioned argument with ryuji, ryuji is written as uncharacteristically mean and out of touch in order to push morgana to his breaking point. at no other point in the game does ryuji come anywhere close to acting like that. they purposefully mischaracterize one of their best-written characters just to have their stupid miscommunication plot work.

on top of that! morgana’s sucks. this is an issue a few of the persona 5 characters have, where instead of having a real arc, they repeat the same thing over and over again until their story actually moves forward. with other characters, you get to see their stories evolve and more forward with every meeting. by the end of each meeting, that character is in a different spot emotionally, physically, etc in comparison to the last time you met with them. they move forward. morgana doesn’t. every meeting with morgana is the same repetition of him going “i HAVE to be human . . . joker, you think i’m human right? but what if i’m not . . . no, that’s ridiculous, i HAVE to be.” you sit through this same conversation, no joke, roughly 8 times. there is nothing you can do to change it. it’s the same. stupid. boring. story. he doesn’t progress in this aspect until the VERY END of the game, and at that point you just want to throw him out into the fucking streets.

in retrospect to everything else i’ve listed. this is an admittedly small thing. and semi not his fault. but morgana is what the developers utilize as a roadblock, for lack of a better term. the developers don’t want you to go out? morgana tells you it’s time to go to bed. it is CONSTANT. he doesn’t even let you leave the HOUSE sometimes. it was a major mistake in the developers’ part, because i wouldn’t feel nearly as annoyed if it was the main character saying “oh, i shouldn’t go out today. i should go to bed”, because then it’d still feel like it was MY choice, to some extent. morgana forcing you feels much more like you are not in control of your own autonomy. you’re being forced to listen to a CAT. you don’t even have a say in the matter. these are not my thoughts. these are not my CHARACTER’S thoughts. why the hell should i have to listen to him??

there are probably more smaller things but. those are my biggest issues with him. he just encapsulates the worst parts of the game’s writing and honestly his only redeeming quality is the fact that he looks like a cute kitty

[moonlightdancer26]

im not a massive prongstail shipper (prongsfoot <3) but i've had this headcanon for fucking ever and it just isnt appreciated enough in marauders circles childhood bestfriends with supposedly unrequited crushes its a v popular marauders headcanon that james and peter knew each other before hogwarts, having both come from established magical familes so i just get brainrot about bb james and pete running around and doing all those childhood bestie things like getting married in their gardens and making wedding rings out of paper etc etc and just,,, neither of them realised they were each others first crush? as they grew up they realised "oh,,, oh i like liked him, didn't i. you dont usually marry people you feel completely platonically about." they are both emotionally constipated teenage boys who spend ages stewing in angst going "i loved him, but he'd never love me back D:" even though if they had a single conversation talking about their hisss feelings the problem would easily solve itself. but they dont, and years in the future, everything goes to shit. and peter doesn't realise that james still kept that tiny paper wedding ring

YES YES YES, I always loved the idea of Peter having an unrequited crush on James but I was always kinda hesitant to fully explore the ship, and today I just went fuck it and decided to announce it on tumblr.

I totally believe Peter and James are both the most oblivious mfs to ever exist, so the idea of them both having crushes on each other and assuming the other person didn’t reciprocate their feelings so they kept it to themselves sounds so accurate.

I’ve heard a bit about that headcanon before and tbh it sounds like a pretty interesting one, I’d like it if it was more explored in fics.

doing all those childhood bestie things like getting married in their gardens and making wedding rings out of paper etc etc

lmaoo I used to always do this with my irl bestie (we’re still inseparable to this day) 😭 we were (are) also major Swifties so when Taylor released Paper Rings 4 years ago we were like OMG REMEMBER WHEN WE USED TO- *goes down memory lane.* Imagining baby!Peter and baby!James making them and having pretend-weddings in their gardens legit sounds like the purest thing ever 😭<333

and when they’re at Hogwarts and well into their teen years they both start thinking “yo wait……. maybe I actually liked him” but never say anything about it due to the fear of being rejected or realising the other person forgot about the weddings and paper rings. And when James got with Lily, that was when Peter accepted that he was genuinely in love with James and couldn’t handle the pain of seeing him with someone else, let alone “Evans.” He then started resenting the Potters and kept thinking to myself “what did I do wrong? why didn’t I tell Prongs when I had the chance?” And part of the reason why James agreed to switch to Peter as the Secretkeeper was because he remembered what it was like when they were kids and trusted him fully because of it. Then when the opportunity to betray the Potters to Voldemort came, Peter took it.

and peter doesn't realise that james still kept that tiny paper wedding ring

Y E S. and at one point James gave it to baby!Harry bc his fingers were almost the same size (either baby!Harry had chubby fingers or James and Peter had skinny fingers, we’ll never know), Lily noticed it and asked what it was. James told her it was “just something he put together,” Lily didn’t buy it because the paper weddimg ring looked a little worn out but decided not to say anything.

excuse me while I go sob into a pillow.

[julius-novachrono]

Been meaning to put this out there for some days but because of who I am as a person I just keep forgetting, but anyways CAN WE GET AN AMEN UP IN THIS BITCH FOR THE LAST SEASON OF VINLAND SAGA? The entire arc was *chef’s kiss*

Thorfinn’s redemption arc is one of the most well written and wholesome I’ve ever seen??!?! Man went from being a rabid teenager blinded by rage

to a shell of a human who had given up

to a kind man who sought to resolve conflict via dialogue and compromise

And not only did he vowed to never use violence again unless it was absolutely the last resort, but he also discovered his life’s purpose: to find and establish a land free of the pain and suffering brought on by war and slavery. A place where the souls of those whose lives he took can finally rest in peace. 10/10. Protect him at all costs.

Also SHOUT OUT to my man Einar for helping Thorfinn find his way out of the shadows. What started of as an acquaintanceship between slaves evolved into friendship and eventually brotherhood. These men found each other when they needed it the most and became one another’s rock. There’s no better testament to their relationship than the fact that Thorfinn hadn’t smiled let alone laughed out loud since he was a little boy until Einar came along.

The side characters in this arc didn’t disappoint either! While at first I didn’t know what to make of Snake, he turned out to be a pretty cool dude. I wished we had gotten to see more of his background and the reason that he was exiled from his home though. Also wished he had gone with Thorfinn and Einar bc imo he had no reason to stay at the farm anymore, considering he paid back the hospitality they showed him by fighting against the king to protect the land. I’m going to miss seeing his fine ass in the next seasons :(

Old Sverkel was THE man cuz imagine pushing 100 AND almost kicking the bucket yet still getting up at the ass crack of dawn to do farming shit?? Couldn’t be me. Also man was down for the cause ✊🏼 cuz he helped Arnheid and Gardar escape. A king without a crown but a king nonetheless!

Speaking of which, RIP Arnheid and Gardar 🪦 they deserved better.

Olmar’s arc?? Quite nicely done. It took almost losing everything and hearing Thorfinn say that no one has enemies (after getting the shit beaten out of him for a whole episode) to bring some sense into him, but better late than never amirite. Now he’s a man worthy of taking over the reigns of his family’s farm. Love that for him.

Also FUCK Ketil. His fake “nice slave owner” persona broke apart the moment shit hit the fan, and when Arnheid wasn’t there to console him (read: letting him abuse her) he took his anger out on her and killed her like bitch ass men tend to do. I hope he keels over soon.

And last but never least my pussy has not known PEACE since Canute’s glow up??? This man went from looking like somebody’s shy sister to looking like a god-like stud so he gets a pass for the imperialism and all that.

The progression from S1 and its themes of revenge, hatred, anger and violence to S2 and its themes of forgiveness, kindness, friendship, love, compassion and redemption is surreal. It’s a gentle reminder that the light will shine on us again after our darkest hour. I can’t wait to see what the next seasons have in store for us.

[angelhummel]

okay so in honor of pride month, i have something i wanna get off my chest for real. sorry if this is super long

I have a tendency to go outside of tumblr spaces when looking at glee content — something i frequently regret. but in my time in those spaces, i often the most delusional take ever. it is basically, “kurt was always kinda pushy towards finn. so did he actually DESERVE to be called a slur??? 🤔🤔🤔 let’s discuss.” this shit boils my blood to no end and while it’s obvious why, i feel the incessant need to defend my boy kurt at all costs.

for one, he wasn’t any more pushy than any other character in the show. i mean for god’s sake, rachel quite literally THREW herself at finn as early as the first episode and i guess that’s fine??? what kurt did was virtually no different bc all the characters do weird, out of pocket shit throughout the show. it really only bothered finn bc kurt is a boy and finn is OVERLY bothered by the prospect of a boy having a crush on him. (more specifically that its kurt — he just simply dislikes kurt being attracted potentially straight guys. thats why he took so much issue to kurt singing with sam. it’s always been about his personal issues with kurt)

moving on to the actual scene in question, so much of what flop accused kurt of was grossly unfair to him. like he says something along the lines of “im scared to even take a shower when youre around,” implying that kurt is some ‘predatory gay’. which is ironic, bc we learn from kurt himself that he never showered after gym JUST to avoid be labelled as something like that. at no point did kurt’s advances move towards remotely ANYTHING sexual in nature, finn just instead assumed that of him

finally, i do believe that flop WANTED to call kurt a slur. he knew that kurt wouldnt call him out for it and you can tell from his tone that that had been building up inside of him for awhile. he wanted something that would push kurt away/scare him. he just went for the cruelest method possible in the moment.

so all this was to basically say that flop hudson sucks and that kurt did not deserve any of the shit that he endured. he was pretty much taught by his peers that it is inappropriate and unacceptable for him to have the same wants and desires that literally any teenager would have simply bc he was gay.

thank you for tuning into my rant. this has been stewing for awhile lmao

lmao yesterday i saw a gifset where cory as finn was doing some good fun acting and i stared at him for like a minute going "if i focus on the cory of it all, can i trick myself into liking finn even a little bit?"

the answer was already no, but if it hadn't been, this ask wouldve set me straight. thank you <3

i've definitely talked about that before tho bc omg. finn has the nerve to call anyone else pushy. i know its not like it'd happened in the show already but. this is the boy setting up a whole kissing booth to manipulate quinn into kissing him aksljfsdlk. or the way he got drunk at the wedding reception in s4 and was hounding rachel. that literally gives me the heebie jeebies lmao sorry to be dramatic about it but i hate it

and god yeah it just breaks my heart bc we know that kurt is always walking on eggshells around these people anyway. and literally 2x04 has become one of my least favorite episodes bc of how hard it is to watch as a kurt stan lmao. sorry it has like two iconic songs but finchel are so fucking manipulative and awful and i've had several rants about this episode before aljsfdlks but basically boils down to them literally making kurt feel like he's committing a crime by asking sam to sing a duet with him and isolating him to an unhealthy degree

and then wanna act all :O four eps later when kurt is like "im getting tf out of here to go to school with people who are nice to me" aslkfdslfjsd

anyway literally just search "2x04 anti finn" on my blog and you will find more posts than you would ever care to read lmao

[saintcheryl]

so i get invited to a rave by a beautiful woman who is playing it and this is like a Rave rave like unsanctioned outdoor dm for location and be ready to Hunt for it type shit. and i show up to the park its in. nice area in southwest portland, right next to a pretty bridge with lights that i walked over to get there; a serene journey, to be honest. so im at the park its dark and i have to go thru a pitch black trail and it really was like Go here. In the dark ? Go in the dark. so i go in the dark. i team up with another confused raver to do so. we go in the dark. the rave is happening. i am alone. i pee in the woods. i wait for my friend to arrive. she does not answer my texts. i listen to the music. a spark flies through the air. a firework lands beneath the dj’s table and explodes, thrown at us by shithead rich teenagers. REAL firework, not the sparkler shit. this was an Explosive. multiple minor injuries. the event is cancelled. i sit on the beach while ppl pack up and figure out where to go, staring up at the bridge for a bit. there’s emergency vehicles up on it. i assume for a car accident. i look at all the pretty lights. i overhear teenagers fighting; entertainign, but unnerving given the events of the night. i have a panic attack bc the situation was scary and i am alone and it took me a long time to get there for nothing. but i watch the pretty lights on the bridge. later i found out that my friend had tried to get there but couldnt bc the cops blocked the way because someone had just killed themselves on that bridge. hence the emergency vehicles. and i lost my fancy fucking earplugs

[missyourflight]

some stuff i read and watched in september:

my brilliant friend (s1-3): had a bit of ferrante fever and rinsed through this, i think it's v well done as an adaptation -- it's been so long since i read the first couple of books that the casting of the lads made them feel much more vivid than i remembered, also i Need to go to florence

foundation (s2): honestly entertainment peaked with deranged space emperor clone lee pace spitting blood in ben daniels' face and snarling i fucking love it, hope to see it back in 2-3 years probably!

the gold: finally got around to this bc they were talking about it on the watch lol, very cool the way it sort of sprawls out from the original heist and just keeps going, classic dcoop sketchiness, still mulling over casting jack lowden as lymond bc what other blonde scottish actors even are there

starstruck (s3): ROSE MATAFEO FOREVER etc. this season pretty much an anti-romcom which i'm on board with, the friendship stuff fucked me up, not to get into but phew re: being single in your thirties while all your friends are having kids etc

passages: really liked this but somehow didn't love it quite as much as i expected to, franz ben adele perfect, whishaw really come full circle since basically playing the franz role in cock at the royal court lol, beautiful knitwear outfits homewares

the best years of our lives: like 3 hours long but doesn't feel it, quietly devastatingly empathetic story of returning ww2 veterans, i need to watch the five come back series on netflix bc william wyler is so so good

a haunting in venice: i would also like to go to venice, kenbran's having fun at least my dutch angle king, i hope they keep letting him make these forever although i also rewatched tenet and nothing here tops the part where he jogs slowly backwards through time

the broken hearts gallery: the best of a bunch of recent-ish romances i watched, geraldine viswanathan is a Star

michael clayton: somehow hadn't seen this before but very satisfying like corporate thriller, tom wilkinson and tilda are great, i want to rewatch andor now

elena ferrante, the story of the lost child: finally finished the neapolitan novels, fuck me up elena. can't think of a comparable series of like adult novels that go this hard for me, maybe st aubyn? yowl

colin walsh, kala: this ripped actually, loved like the irish specificity of the voices

james frankie thomas, idlewild: literally took critical damage every time i had to read the word HoYay but this was great and painful about like being a horrible little queer teenager and codependent friendships and livejournal and annotated fanfiction etc

marilynne robinson, gilead: ow i loved this, i think it's a real skill to make like goodness compelling, looking forward to being devastated by the rest of the series etc

sylvia townsend warner, lolly willowes: 🧙‍♀️🍂🌝

katie kitamura, intimacies: more things should be set at the courts in the hague tbh! made me think about translation a lot and also black earth rising

cat sebastian, we could be so good: sometimes you just want to read a gay romance about being in love with your best friend innit

operation mincemeat: omg i actually went to the theatre, this was silly and very much The British Hamilton but i loved it and i cried and i ordered drinks to my seat, 5 stars etc

the effect: i didn't see the original billie piper staging but i love lucy prebble and i loved this cast, literally paapa essiedu can do anything, kobna holdbrook smith reminded me that i should carry on with the rivers of london audibooks, one in a long list of signs that i should probably talk to someone about my mental health lol