#but also by this point Day is one of the dozen or so people who CAN really challenge him

[acheronist]

........so what do u think peglar's childhood was like? 👀👂

WELLLLLLLLLL......

so his dad was a gunsmith in westminster & henry was the younger sibling of two (elizabeth was a few years older than him, and she also received henry's arrears from the franklin expedition after everyone was pronounced lost & dead. she was married at this time and was henry's immediate next of kin. so presumably their parents had died by this point...) but he and elizabeth got dunked in a 2-for-1 baptism like john torrington & his sister did tho which is so funny. pov you have one baby and underestimated how much work babies actually are, so you forget to get it baptized on time, and then by the second baby rolls around you've got a better grip on parenting, so you take both kids in on the same day. lmfao.

anyways back to the childhood tho. they lived like... a few blocks away from the river thames so he'd probably already had a fondness for water, i think, just based on my own childhood of having two older brothers and living near a semi-important river (lol)

but that made me wonder if like... he and elizabeth ever played army...? because i definitely was made by my brothers to play army and soldiers a fair amount. and if my dad was a gunsmith and i was an opinionated little freakboy who wanted to be a navy sailor when i was older, i'd definitely try and sneak into dad's work and play pretend a little bit. and i wonder if sarah peglar (mum) ever scolded him for not including elizabeth or vice versa when they was out playing with the neighborhood kids...

they lived in a pretty well-populated neighborhood and he attended the blewcoat school "for poor families" WHICH ALSO ALLOWED GIRLS TO ATTEND so maybe henry and elizabeth went there together. cmon get up we have to walk to school on timeeeee. i think he was probably a little bit dyslexic tho based on how his spelling was in 1845-47... i think the only formal education for reading and writing would have been at this blewcoat school in westminster , so i wonder if the writing backwards was a trick he pulled out to impress his classmates... don't notice how bad his spelling test grade was!! just look how cool and clever harry is!!! he can write a whole paragraph backwards!!!! whoaaah!!!! idk i just hope he had a gang of friends he was running about and causing silly lad antics with. i hope elizabeth followed them around and was begrudgingly included in the antics because they were supposed to be keeping an eye on each other during the afternoons or something. based on the amount of times he mentions keeping an eye on his friends on terror / mentions tom by name in the wallet papers i think it's not too hard to imagine henry was protective over people he loved.... i assume this extended to his sister, too. also like.. not that this was his childhood necessarily, but his dad's gunsmith shop was literally down the road from the big ben clocktower which would have been under construction (1843) during the same time he was ashore between ships (post hms wanderer & pre hms terror) so i wonder if he ever went home to visit the family and was like FUCCKKK SORRY I'M LATE FOR DINNER TRAFFIC SUCKED. CONSTRUCTION FOR THAT CLOCK IS SO ANNOYING. that would be very funny to me.

ok anyways back to childhood: john peglar (henry & elizabeth's dad) voted for francis burdett so there's at least some indication that their household was like... fine with being politically radical and heavily opinionated. (i would also point out that there's a fair amount in henry's wallet and diary that's just him having a gossip session by himself. opinionated indeed.) but also henry doesn't seem the type to really get into trouble tho... based on his career history he generally rolled his eyes kept his head down and did his job unless he was pushed hard enough, in which case he had no problem speaking out. in 1833 on the marquis camden, henry was lashed two dozen times for "drunkenness and mutinous conduct" but i've also read that the captain of the ship at the time was a Notorious Asshole Who Loved To Use Lashing As Punishment? so jumping to conclusions without real evidence, i think henry probably saw his fellow ABs getting treated badly by the captain, had 3 more beers than he should have, and said FUCK THIS GUYYYY!!!!!!! and then got punished for it. we're not going to think about the lashing scars opening back up again in the arctic btw. so anyways the point of all this is to say i think henry was probably fine with protesting when things suck, which he probably learned from his dad. maybe there were nights when john and sarah were talking politics and henry sat on the other side of the wall listening when he wasn't supposed to. maybe elizabeth would come sit with him and he'd have to shush her because neither of them were supposed to be listening because it was past their bedtimes but they sat and listened together anyways. scurried back into bed trying not to get caught even though john and sarah definitely knew they were there.

but also he was 13 when he entered the marine society ("a charitable organization for helping destitute boys and training seamen") so maybe he saw the navy as a chance to help out his lower-middle class family..... maybe they had a hard time and henry wanted to help out now that he was sort of almost grown up!!! and he clearly excelled thru this sailor training camp because after a month they tossed him onto hms solebay where he would have learned more hands-on stuff about working on a ship. knots and such. maybe this is where he realized how good he was with ropes... he could have been the best lad in his "class" when it came to knots etc. he also would have learned properly how to use a gun here, but again, his dad's a gunsmith. he probably would have had an experience advantage over most of the other boys w/ shooting and loading and managing a gun as a tool. so it's not surprising i think that he was in and out of 'training camp' really quickly. his first real ship was hms clio and he was a spare ship's boy and quickly got transferred to hms magnificent, WHICH WAS A HOSPITAL SHIPPPP and worked in the sickbay as a ship's boy and was earning a real paycheck. in my heart this was probably a very formative experience, and gave him a basic understanding of medicine/nursing? which i bet came in handy during the expedition when things were getting desperate and everyone was sick. i know amc had bridgens playing pinch-hitter nurse for terror camp but i wonder if in real life, maybe henry took up that role? maybe he even managed to keep his own illness under wraps for longer than most of the other expedition men Because he could recall things he learned on hms magnificent... idk.....

anyways at this point we start getting into henry's teen years. does this count as childhood? he saw two men get killed by lightning strike at age ~16 and he jumped around between ships pretty often and his conduct was generally either 1) bored and unremarkable or 2) normal and good :) and then he got lashed for being a petulant "mutinous" teenager who likes beer too much, as previously mentioned, and afterwards he just kind of hangs out until he's 22 and joins the gannett and meets 💞thomas armitage💞 and now i need to stop typing . lest i begin rpf-ing on main a little bit too much.

ok thanks ummm he's my most special guy unfortunately. henry my best friend henry :-(

[infinitethree]

Hi Day and whoever happens to be around! I have an odd question for you. How is it that the monsters and such in SMPza is so different from the ones from the Sanctuary reality? Shouldn't both be alittle more similar in that regard? How was there a den of chimeric creatures in SMPza but not in Sanctuary?

Day is sitting in his den, evidently having been working on knitting a blanket. With him is Perce, who is sprawled out on one of the couches. The younger Dream variant is paying extremely close attention to the movie on the TV.

Perce jumps at the sound of the question, enough so to send himself crashing to the floor.

Day peers over at him, but doesn’t go to help him up. He’s well aware that his second youngest son is no stranger to bumps, bruises, and being attacked by multiple people after a prank got a little too far under their skin. “You good?” “I got ambushed by a disembodied voice in my own home,” Perce complains. “What about that is good?”

A moment passes, and Day points out, “If I wanted to be a smartass, I’d tell you that technically, it’s my home–” “Dad, really?!” “But I’ll restrain myself,” he finishes, despite the outburst.

His second youngest points an accusatory finger at him. “That’s a dick move and you know it.” 

With an incredulous scoff, Day tells him, “Perseus, you got multiple board games banned and I’ve had to set rules for what's acceptable for family movie night.” “There wasn’t anything saying I couldn’t splice together the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy–” “Yeah, because none of your brothers thought to do it. You gave them the idea and now we all have to suffer the consequences.”

Even though he huffs like he’s annoyed, Perce has a wide grin as he flops back down on the sofa. “No regrets.” 

“I’m aware.” Much like Perce, Day has a smile and his tone is warm, if a little exasperated.

His son refocuses him by saying, “Disembodied voice has a point, though. Everything I hear about the SMPza makes it sound weird. Wasn’t your theory that it’s made out of your admin light– or whatever it was you called it? Why’s it so different than here, then?”

There’s a furrow of Day’s brow as he tries to explain it. Some of the evidence he has is little more than a gut feeling– a sense that the world wasn’t allowed to diverge from the first life he had had in certain ways. Some events seemed fated to happen, even if that meant things or people bending and stretching in ways that they shouldn’t.

“...Too many similarities,” he murmurs. Perce argues, “Dad, we’re cosmically the same person.” 

“No it’s– not in the same way." He chews on his lip for a moment before trying to explain, "That reality never felt– right, I guess. No other world has felt like that. They feel solid and– real, I guess? But the SMPza had this sort of surreality to it. And the ghosts I saw would sometimes…snap back, to what they were like in my first life. Ghoulus would suddenly get upset around yellow or was afraid of Schlatt, for instance. A few times he called his brothers the wrong name."

His fingers skimming over some of his braids to try and lessen the sense of unease he has whenever he dwells on the SMPza for too long. “I don’t know; it might just have been how I lived. Things felt more concrete after I met your brothers. All that time on my own might have just fucked with my head." 

It wouldn't be the first time his perspective has turned out to be horribly warped. Sometimes he worries that he still jumps at shadows that aren't really there. 

With a sigh, he continues, "I don’t have a good answer, and I can’t have a good answer. That’s the realm of the divine, and I’m not really interested in stepping on any toes by demanding an explanation. I’ll deal with potential revelations when and if they happen.”

He tilts his head to the side a little. He can’t say he isn't glad for the change of topic, but he’s a little confused about why the Observers are asking at all.

Aren't they agents of Time? Even if they might not know everything– or even a lot of things– it feels like this would be something they would already know.

…Maybe he needs to re-examine what he thought he knew about them. After all, Theo had only recently told him that they're called Observers.

"Sort of yes, sort of no," he admits. "Ender chests work no matter where we go, so in that sense, yes. We've tested them on other servers here l, and they're empty– so it’s not just us."

His wings ruffle a little as he continues, "But we go to realities without servers entirely or servers that aren't the Dream SMP fairly regularly."

Perce makes a noise of confusion at him. Day tells him, "Question about if everywhere we go is a variation of the Dream SMP."

"Ah," his second youngest says. "Obviously not. We go to single realm worlds all the time! One of the perks of Dad and Theo traveling is that they can pick out safe worlds to have a little vacation in. My personal favorites are the ones like Cat world; it’s places with that level of tech and comfort that give me games and shows and books–"

"And more ideas for how to be a menace," Day snorts. "That, too," Perce admits, "But you know you love seeing museums with Attie and Theo."

Day can’t help but smile at his memories. “You say that like you don’t like them, too.” He nudges Perce with a wing and teases, “You have extensive records of the differences between all the versions of the sets of your favorite movies.” “As anyone would!” “Mm, no, but that’s because we’re the cool family.”

He’s glad to see Perce damn near preen with pride. It would snow in the nether before he dissed one of his kids’ hobbies.

…Even if he still doesn’t understand redstone. He can manage to follow relatively simple instructions, but beyond that he’s hopeless. Dee has long since given up on it. Frankly, Day is a little glad for it; he knows that nobody enjoyed those lessons.

Except for Theo, who found it hilarious. And Orph, because he kept setting up bets on how long before Dee had to stop because he was giving himself another headache from frustration. And Atlas, because he would use it to double check his own fundamentals–

“Wait a minute,” he says, eyes narrowing. “Your brothers were using me as free entertainment.”

Perce stares at him, his confusion obvious. “...Did you seriously not realize that? No, wait, better question– what made you finally realize it?”

He’s pretty sure his expression gets across how he feels just a little insulted. “Not– I know they do in general, but I meant when Dee used to try and teach me redstone.”

A beat or two passes, and Perce asks, “...Didn’t that stop when he was like, thirteen?” “Yes.” There’s a longer pause, paired with further confusion. “...It took you sixteen years to realize that?” 

Day makes an offended noise. “Hey– there was a lot going on!” “For sixteen years?!” “Some of it, yes! And then I stopped thinking about it, because I had more important things to worry about!”

Perce sighs, and sits up to pat his shoulder. “Yeah, that’s true.” “Thank y–” “You can’t help that sometimes you’re a little dumb. Great at plenty of stuff, but in some ways…ehhh…”

Oh, those are fighting words. He smiles, and can tell his son realizes that he’s signed up for a lot of unexpected cardio from the way his eyes get wide. He warns, “You have until I secure my stitch before I start hunting.”

As expected of the Manhunt king, Perce doesn’t bother arguing– he just scrambles to his feet and starts booking it.

[p0ison-moon]

(unwillingly) re-entering my token anti-Zionist Jew era again apparently

[goldsbitch]

Our wedding

Y/N and Lando probably went a little too overboard when planning their wedding. She finally looses it when his friend suggests a product placement bucket hat.

A dream wedding.

Distant palazzo, with acres of private lands to roam around at night. Lavish dress, designed to fit perfectly and re-done three times. Coordinators, who made sure everyone who needed to be invited actually was. And also took care about almost anything one can imagine.

A perfect wedding, that's what they both wanted. Go big or go home. Combining romance, with generously giving everyone they loved, or deemed important, the time of their life. To say that this event was supposed to be extra would be an understatement.

Lando said yes to all of Y/N's wished regarding flower arrangements, menu items and rooming lists. She said yes to all of this ideas about the music, sound systems set up in each part of the venue (because heaven would turn upside down if there had been one quiet spot with no music, according to Lando) and drinks choices. They could not agree on the photographer - so Lando just booked his, and hers option as well. Saving money was not on the table. He knew that the amount of good PR and brand deals the Quadrant team managed to get together was going to pay out in the long run. Everyone loves a wedding.

That's where the first issues started - the amount of people invited grew into higher hundreds. She voiced her point few times, but Lando quickly shut those off with a promise to book a private charter for all friends and family who were coming from her homeland. She caved in and agreed to just few more CEO's she'd never met, as long as they did not share their table.

It was the final two months before the wedding and things could not be more hectic. They had to plan the wedding around Lando's race schedule, so summer break between races it was. Y/N had to juggle her job with all of this planning, so she attended less races than she usually would. Most of the calls she shared with Lando were wedding related and it seemed like his best friend Max took it upon himself to speak on behalf of Lando - so sometimes it felt like she was marrying Max rather than her fiancé. After a total break down she had few days ago, which resulted in her crying on the phone to Lando at 4 am his local time, they agreed she absolutely had to come over to the next race so that they could find some down time.

//

Having to endure a tiring overnight flight, she finally stepped into the hotel where Lando was staying at. Exhausted, jet-lagged and generally in a bad mood were the main ingredients in the perfect cocktail of "you should just avoid me" Y/N. She finally opened the door to his room and let out a groan. Traveling to see him used to be her favorite thing. A bombastic cherry on top was that she immediately recognized Max's voice coming from the living room. Was this guy staying in the same room as them now?

"Y/N, is that you?" she heard, desperately hoping he hadn't heard her enter in. She felt like a bitch for wishing that, but he was the last person she wanted to see at that point. Her hopes of jumping in the bed and cuddling Lando the first thing coming here dissolved like cotton candy, leaving tooth aches behind.

"Yes, Max, it's me," she said, not even bothering adjusting her tone to something more socially appropriate.

"Great, just on time. Can you come in here? We have some decisions that are becoming pressing matters," he said dryly and added his own frustrated comment quietly "...since someone does not feel like answering emails." She heard that, bit her lip and swallowed all her comments, otherwise she would explode.

"What's up?" she asked, entering the living space. There were dozens of baseball caps and buckets hats laid down on the coffee table with Max and some random young guy towering over them.

"We need you to pick out one of these which you'll be wearing after the reception. I have a great brand deal on the table which I need to close today. So, go ahead - pick one." She could not believe the words coming out of Max's mouth. Was he for real?

"May I ask when did I agree to wearing a baseball cap with my dress right after my wedding?"

Max glanced at her and then rolled his eyes. "Can you just pick one? Lando is on board with this, he'll be wearing this green one," he pointed to objectively very nice stylish item of clothing - but still, it was a bucket hat. Rage levels shot up in Y/N blood steam.

"Max, I'm suppose to be wearing my wedding dress until the evening, that's also in some deal you guys made," she proclaimed, hoping this would finally make him get some sense. "The dress is very classical, I don't think this would fit the vibe."

"Oh, come, we agreed to sticking to the Quadrant Athletes color palette and all of these check that. We want to break the classical vibe up with this."

"I'm sorry, who exactly is we in this scenario? And who the fuck are you?!" she pointed at the guy standing next to Max.

"I'm...I'm the product placement controller," he said in a shy voice.

Her eyes just went wide at that point.

"Y/N, no need to freak out again, you need to create a viral moment to make the brand grow," Max said, as if he was talking about a new merch launch.

And that was the final straw. "I'm getting sick of you guys making my wedding into a Quadrant PR stunt. You need to realize this is my wedding, not yours! The whole event is already dripping with brand deals and promotions, is there nothing out of line to you? Will my mom also have to wear one of these hats? Will force the officiant to wear sneakers? Where will you stop?"

Max stared at her, his own cup finally also full. But unlike her, he spoke calmly - again, giving strong business vibes. "Oh, I'm sorry - I'm sorry I am pulling heaven and Earth to make sure your wedding does not ruin your future husband! I apologize that I seem to be more stressed about this wedding than you are. Sorry for caring and trying to uphold some standard."

"Max, this is all too much! I feel like I'm suffocating," she tried to reason with him once more.

He just had enough at that point. So many little moments of mutual disagreement finally grew on him.

"Yeah, well maybe you're just not suited for this world."

Before she could even take a breath to respond, a familiar voice cut them both off.

"Guys, that's enough I'd say," Lando said as he slowly stepped out the same corridor Y/N had entered moments ago. Both Max and Y/N turned around, knowing they'd have spoken way differently had they known he was there as well.

Max gulped, knowing he stepped over a line and immediately started to apologize. "Mate, I'm sorry, we just sort of lost it. I'm sorry."

Lando glanced at him, his face suddenly hard to read for both his friend and his fiancée. He quickly flashed Y/N a look, seeing the obvious distress finally on his own, in a way the camera on a phone just does not capture. It pained him to see them two fighting, but it pained him more to see her on the verge of crying.

She couldn't find words to apologize to Max. In fact she could barely even see him, as Lando took all of her attention.

"Can you guys leave us for now? I think we need to talk alone," Lando said in a tone so serious that Max hardly remembered last time he'd heard it.

"Yeah, mate. Of course," he said shyly, gesturing to his companion to quickly exit with him.

Once the door finally clicked, Y/N felt like she could get out of her frozen state.

"My god. Lando, I knew it would be a challenge these few months, but I did not expect to grow so far away from you," she said, as the words flew out of her mouth without her being able to control it.

He was more careful with his words, but brave nevertheless. "It's true. I don't think we've even been so distant."

Him acknowledging it just made it real and hurt more.

"Right. At least we have that in common."

There was an awkward silence, something these two hadn't experienced in months.

"Why is Max involved so much?" she asked, hoping that she would not hear anything that would make her biggest fear come true - Lando's lack of desire to marry her.

He took a moment to get his point in the right order. "He's my best friend. This is our wedding. I can't stop focusing on racing, but I want it to be perfect. I'd say not giving him any credit sometimes."

Of course, he was defending him. She wondered if he defended her in front of Max sometimes.

All card on the table. She gulped before uttering the next sentence. "I'm scared that I don't want to go to my own wedding anymore. I feel like an unwanted guest."

They shared a look full of hidden pain. It was impossible to tell, but Lando was scared as never before. "What are you saying...Do you want to call it of??"

She looked back at him, praying that he would understand. "God no, that's the last thing I want to do," she sighed and put her head in her hands. How did it got to a place where he could even assume that? "Marrying you, the love of my life, is my dream. In fact, I'd just like to jump to the moment where I can finally say yes to you."

The air still felt really heavy. "Then let's do just that."

"What do you mean?"

Lando took few steps closer to her, missing her close proximity for the past few weeks. He desperately needed to fix them. "Let's book a wedding for next week in Monaco, just you me and any other people required by the law."

The idea of that seemed silly at first. But the more she thought about it, the more she craved that idea. "So, you want to call the actual wedding off?"

Lando chuckled at the image of them cancelling that at last minute and all the hustle that would bring. "No, silly, not unless you really want to. But who says we can't have a fake ceremony there, celebrate with everyone, while already being married at that point? We don't need to tell anyone, keep the magic for them. We can have two weddings."

It was her time to laugh now. "So because we find organizing one wedding hard, we're going to be doing two now?"

"We are anything but conventional. And if this is news for you then, well...That would mean I'm marrying the queen of delulu. Twice."

The weight of the past weeks was lifted.

"Does this mean I can say "No." at the big wedding?" she teased him, closing the distance between them and holding his hand.

"Not if I'll say "No." first," he winked and quickly gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm not wearing a bucket hat. Just stating that now."

"Oh come, at least one of our weddings," he said as he ruffled her hair. "Wow, I think you need a post airport shower, my love."

"Do not try and change the topic - no bucket hats!" she mumbles as she tried to fix her hair.

"Fine, I'll just get you drunk. You'll wear a bucket hat at one of our weddings one way or another."

It felt so good to just banter with him, like they always did before they got caught up in all the stress. A shot of guilt went through her system, as she flashed back at the whole process so far.

"I should probably apologize to Max," she uttered, avoiding his eye contact once again.

He finally hugged her. "Yeah probably. But...let him rot in his feelings for a moment. I hate when someone makes you upset. Apart from me, of course."

"What makes me upset right now is the alarming amount clothes you're wearing."

"That's my girl!"

//

They got legally married the following weekend, Lando bribing anyone he could in order for them to skip few spots that were unavailable. The first wedding was secret and full of inappropriate, but honest kisses. The second one was fake, but they slayed it together, as newly married couple. Without the stress of actually getting married, they really enjoyed their wedding. The little secret stayed with them - and Max of course, because he just had to get involved with everything.

[skipper1331]

Communication is key // Alexia Putellas

Without thinking, you called Alexia, feeling frustrated and disappointed about her behavior.

"Hello amor"

"Were you at the beach with the girls yesterday?"

Since weeks you had been asking if she wanted to hangout and go to be beach, just for some time away from football.

"Yes, why?" she replied, confused.

"I don’t want to fight, but I’m asking since 2 weeks if you want to go to the beach with me and you tell me you‘re busy each time and now you went out with the other girls? To the beach? Even though, you know I’ve been asking…You didn‘t ask if I wanted to join you guys" you said, upset about the fact that Alexia acted that way and that you got so carried away as to even bring it up.

"Eh- um…" the midfielder was silent for a moment, thinking about how to phrase it as kindly as possible "the problem is that Mapi has a problem with you and that’s why we decided as a group that you can‘t join. It wouldn’t end well"

"We‘re a friend group of 5 people…? If she has a problem she should talk to me privately."

The friends group consisted of Mapi, Ingrid, Frido, Ale and yourself.

"Yeah.."

"So, I’m no longer part of the group when Mapi is there? That‘s so nice, Alexia, thanks!" your voice was laced with sarcasm and anger.

Of all people, you at least thought Alexia would defend or support you - you were her girlfriend.

"What do you want to hear from me? The girls asked and I wanted to do something as a group so I went along. And if they exclude you, there's nothing I can do about it. Just chill out, we'll catch up on it at some point."

The betrayal and hurt you felt in that moment, was unreal - how could she say something like that? She was the person who had asked you out a dozens of times with puppy dog eyes. She was the one who begged for your kisses and love. And she was the one who wanted to spend every second of the day with you, no matter what plans either of you had.

Why was she acting so cold and rude now?

"You know what? If you want to hangout with me, then feel free to text me, but I won‘t be running after you, just to get rejected every time, even though you apparently have the time but just don't want to when it’s with me, your girlfriend! So, text me if you want to do something that isn’t having sex, otherwise we'll see each other in training."

With that you ended the call.

Did your friend group really decided that? It didn‘t seem to make any sense. And was even the problem with Mapi? The two of you were friends, never any problem between the two of you. But more importantly: what was the matter with Alexia? Why was she acting weird and distant? Have you done something wrong?

Normally, both of you were all over each other, holding hands, kissing in the storage room or even just an arm around your waist - spending almost 24/7 together. What was happening?

You declined every call that came in after, the caller id always the same.

reina 👑

amor, por favor.

call me back

lo siento

Caught up in your anger, you started to deep clean your apartment, not being bothered to call her back or even reply. The cleaning relaxed you but it also got you thinking. Was Alexia acting like this because she wanted to break up with you? Did she realize that you weren’t worth her time, attention and love? You always had a feeling that Alexia would break up with you at some point, many pretty girls in the world that would die to even just meet Alexia, let alone be loved by her.

That night you went to bed feeling very queasy and stressed - was she really about to break with you? She had texted you multiple times as she also had tried to call you but you didn’t answer.

The next day, you went to training acting as usually but with one exception - you avoided Ale and the rest of your friend group.

You did partner drills with Patri, talked in water breaks with Lucy and ate lunch with Aitana, Keira and Caro.

It was usual that you socialized with other people than your friend group but the unusual part was that Alexia didn‘t follow you around like a lost puppy. Instead she sent longing looks towards you, sad smiles displaying in her face when you dodged her glances as she tried to act tough and unbothered by your ignorance.

"What have you done?" a thick English accent asked the midfielder who was walking towards the changing room.

"Maybe I handled things a bit wrong" she explained, not wanting to reveal too much - a little bit scared of the Lucy Bronze as she had gotten the shovel talk from her when she started dating you.

'If you hurt her, I will haunt and hurt you' Lucy had told the Barcelona captain.

That day, Alexia promised Lucy and herself to never hurt you - not that she intended to anyways.

"You better make up with her otherwise I will have to hurt you" the defender smiled, entering the locker and walking to her cubby.

Alexia was quick to take a shower and get ready, waiting for you in front of the facility. She knew you hadn‘t left yet as you had entered the changing room when she came out of the shower.

She indeed wanted to make up with you, the whole situation a misunderstanding.

When you walked out of the facility, she called after you, "Amor, ¡esperar!" grabbing your hand, stopping you on your short journey to the car, "can we talk?" her voice was gentle and caring.

"Do you want to break up with me?" you asked straight forward, stepping back, trying to protect yourself with the distance yet you knew it wouldn’t help from a potential heart break.

"No no, amor, no. Let me pick you up at 7, okay? I‘ll explain everything"

You thought about it, unsure what to do.

"Okay"

It was Alexia after all, the person who was always honest. If she wanted to explain something, she would.

"Thank you, amor" she pressed a kiss to your cheek, walking you to your car, "be safe" she said as watched you, pull out of the parking lot, feeling so much better now that she had talked to you, even if it was just a few sentences - now that you had smiled at her.

-

5 minutes early, she rang your door bell, shuffling with her feet and fidgeting with her hands - she was nervous.

"Come in" you greeted her, "just need to put on my shoes then we can go"

The midfielder nodded, shyly entering your home as if she hadn‘t been here before.

"You look very beautiful, like always" she smiled, cheeks slowly turning red. Alexia felt like as if it was your first date all over again. She still remembered how shy and nervous she was, wanting to do everything perfect, so you‘d like her and she could ask you on another date. Also she had said the exact same thing when she picked you up for your first date.

"Reminds me of something" you chuckled, as well thinking back to the night where she had taken you out.

"Sí, you‘re getting prettier every day that hasn‘t changed"

Alexia thought you were the prettiest girl in the world, you took her breath away every time she saw you - you were absolutely stunning.

"charmer" you giggled, cheeks a dark shade of red. In that moment, everything felt like it used to be. She wasn‘t acting distant or weird, she was acting like the girl you fell in love with.

Everything is going to be okay.

"Amor, may I?" she asked politely, offering her arm as you had put on your shoes. Wordlessly, you linked your arms, walking towards her car. She opened the door for you, hurriedly rushing over to her side before she started the engine and rested her hand on your thigh. She was glad when you didn‘t push her off - you had missed her touch all day.

The two of you stayed in silence, your favourite songs playing as she drove to her destination. With every metre you got closer, she became more nervous and anxious. She knew she had some explaining to do but also was about to ask you an important question - which was the reason she even had to explain things. She wouldn‘t let a misunderstanding fuck things up with you. She wanted to marry you in the future - your relationship was very serious to her.

(Also she did not wanted to get haunted by a certain scary English defender.)

-

"Why are we at the beach?" you asked, the ocean right in front of you.

"Do you trust me?" the Barcelona player questioned, avoiding your question - she would explain in a moment, you just had to wait and trust her.

"I‘m not quite sure?" Ale raised an eyebrow, "fine, I trust you"

The girl smiled widely, stepping behind you and covering your eyes with her hands, "are you about to murder me?" you joked, knowing damn well that Alexia wouldn‘t dream of letting you fall or hurt yourself in any kind of way.

"Keep walking, amor"

-

After a short walk in the sand, the woman stopped, slowly revealing the sight in front of you.

There was a large picnic blanket, cushions and basket, wine and two glasses standing next to it - it looked romantic.

"Ale- what‘s all of this?" you asked confused, already emotionally touched by the gesture.

She sat down, making herself comfortable before she tapped between her legs, "come here"

Sitting in between her legs, staring towards the ocean and the beautiful sunset while she purred two glasses of wine.

"This is wow" you muttered, not yet leaning into her body as you were still moody at her but still admiring the work and view. It was indeed very romantic, rose petals and candles decorated everything around the two of you.

"I‘m sorry for avoiding you" Alexia started, loosely wrapping her free arm around your midsection, "i didn‘t mean to act weird. I was here with the girls to practice this- they helped me to set everything up and encouraged me for what I’m about to do. Ingrid decorated, Frido made the snacks and well, Mapi carried everything while I was freaking out at home because I didn’t know what to wear. I‘m sorry for letting you think i want to break with you or for acting weird, i was just really nervous these past weeks" she put her wine glass down in the sand, making sure it wouldn‘t fall before she pulled something out of her pocket, "I’m always nervous when I’m around you but this time it was different. I was scared of getting rejected and in return, I rejected you without even realizing."

Hidden in her hand, she gave you her little 'present' - a key.

"I would like you to move in with me." she breathed out, her heart racing.

You turned in her hold, looking at her with wide eyes.

"You‘re sleeping at my apartment almost every day and i can barely sleep without you being in my arms, so i thought maybe you would like stay at my place every night from now on" she rambled, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

The widest grin broke out on your face and you kissed her - you had been wanting to bring up the topic since awhile now, yet always feeling too shy to do so as you knew Alexia loved her personal space and alone time. You didn’t want her to feel pressured or to feel like she had to agree.

But now you’re even happier that the idea and suggestion came from her - she wanted this too - she was ready for the next step.

"I’d love to" you answered, kissing her rapidly as she giggled while you did so.

"I‘m glad" she sighed in relief, puckering her lips once again.

More kisses, please

You happily accepted the key.

The key wasn’t just any key, it symbolized that it was the key to her heart and home, that communication was the key to happiness, and that her nervousness couldn't always open all doors - which she had realized now;

Spending the whole at training without you was horrible. She never wanted to experience that again.

-

As your little picnic date continued (both of you back at being sickeningly in love with each other) the sun almost down completely, a question popped up in your head, "Mapi doesn’t have a problem with me, does she?"

A loud hearty laugh escaped your girlfriend, "no, amor, you‘re perfect. When you called me the girls were with me and I panicked and Mapi was signing something, so that‘s what came to my mind with her wild gestures. I‘m sorry if it sounded rude. Everybody loves you and you are very much a part of the group, my favourite member in fact"

Weirdly, you could imagine Mapi way too well and Alexia never lied to you. Added to that she was a horrible liar, her brows slightly raising when she lied or was trying to.

You believed and trusted her. It all made sense now - you remember how nervous she was when she asked you out on a date, you remember how nervous she was when she actually took you out, also how nervous she was when she asked the girlfriend question and how nervous she was just today.

You could only imagine how nervous she would be if she ever decided to ask you to be her wife.

Which Alexia definitely would do.

She would always be nervous around you, it‘s you - you‘re way too perfect for this world, so Ale had every right to be nervous every day anew - you were the key to all her happiness.

[boyfiejay]

I love my girlfriend

PAIRING : Enhypen hyung line x female Youtuber! Reader

GENRE : fluff, bullet point

Warning : curse words, me rizzing up the reader😔

Word Count : 0.9k overall

Author's Note : this was long overdue☝🏻

Heeseung ☆

you're one of those underrated artists, that are underrated due to one sole reason

it's better to gatekeep a talented artist

yk the way some fans get sad that their favourites are now on everyone's fyp

yeah your fandom in a nutshell

they also thirst over you non stop

I mean you are stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, enchanting

just date me pookie

you used to be a youtuber before the music career fyi

imagine your fans' dilemma (dimension?) when you say out of nowhere that you have a bf

‘guys, my boyfriend sent me this :D’

and it's a silly picture of two cats or smtg

like your fans are fighting a fucking war on twt

and you are like cuddling with hee, listening to unreleased songs

you have no clue of what's going on

meanwhile heeseung…

he's ready to fight the war

posts a picture of you kissing his cheek on your insta story

he makes sure that only 1/4th of his face is visible

to keep his identity anonymous yk

…

your fans find his acc in 15 mins

he panics definitely 😭

tells you his innuendo after you wake up

and you're just like

‘yeah ok, sure’

WHY ARE YOU SO CHILL??

your boyfriend is getting deep fried on twt and you're like ‘el oh el’

dw your fans mean no harm

after a while they're like

‘they're cute tgt ig 😒’

Jay ☆

you're like a cooking channel

STAY W ME IK IT SOUNDS BASIC

you're like a blogger who blew up one day

because you're just soso pretty😻

alright anyways, your channel is focused around learning to cook

it's so chaotic sometimes

bcz you don't know shit about cooking

sorry if you do, let's pretend you don't >.<!!

you have almost killed yourself a dozen times

at some point people are like

‘??? how is she alive’

all thanks to your almost professional chef boyfriend

but no one has to know that ;)

anyways on like a milestone or something, you decide to cook blindfolded

bae you can barely cook with eyes open

your followers are concerned bro

like their blood pressure is rising by the minute

and like a holy light in the midst of the darkness

Jay stepped in, to save you from killing yourself fr this time

Your fans are seriously jumping around, squealing bcz he's just so soft and gentle to you :(((

but then they snap out and pretend to be angry

and you're like ‘meet my boyfie :3’

jk your fans love you two

like almost obsessed

also they're always sliding in Jay's dms

like I get it mans fine af but he's also taken

and also absolutely whipped for you 🤭

it's your world and we're just living in it…

Jake ☆

you are a gamer/streamer

your whole fan base is delusional

like so delusional, there are like hundreds and thousands of accounts claiming to be your bf/gf

but the iconic one ‘ynsboyfie’ is everywhere

like that acc is the most iconic thing in your lore

they are always there, no news of yours goes past them

always donating in your streams

and one day…

you forget to log in your priv acc

so your official acc has the comment

‘babe, you're so sweet ☹️🩷’

replying to ‘YNSBOYFIE’

???

oh your fans are livid

jokingly ofc

or maybe not

everyone on twt is like

‘who is this bitch???’

everyone hoping for his downfall

then you drop his pic

THE SWITCH UP IS INSANE

‘oh, oh, he's fiiine😏’

like I can't blame them, that's jake

but still they're supposed to be your fans

fucking snitches

my bae, pookum shmookum I would never

your fans love him

but also bully him calling him a lewser

hes so down bad he had a fan page for you

i dont blame him, i too would fangirl over you 😼

Sunghoon ☆

you're like a fitness channel

like those ones that have insane challenges

and your famous in people who have no interest in working out too

your face reveal went so viral, almost every single person knew your face

also your workouts (even tho deadly) always work so fast

people are in love with your figure and just you in general

you also upload mini vlogs once in a while

in these vlogs people noticed someone always being around you and in the back of the frame

at first they were like

‘obsessed fan😨’

but then they saw you laughing along with him in another clip

from the small clips, people couldn't see his face (bcz it's blurred) but omg the figure

the biceps, the buff and tall guy immediately steals everyone hearts

it's obvious from the clips that you're close with him

so naturally you are asked who he is and you just laugh

???

people are losing their minds woman

and you're just like ‘hehe’

they continue seeing him in your vlogs and in one clip you could see him putting his hands on your waist while you squat

you have no reaction to that

but twt…

he's getting dragged even though half of the people have no clue what's going on

you decide to take matter in your hands

and post this

with the caption ‘he's my boyfriend everyone :3’

the internet breaks

Sunghoon doesn't do his face reveal for a long time js bcz he doesn't feel like it yk

but when he does

good lord…

your fans love him

they also love how he glares at people who look at you the wrong way

you never notice that for some reason

[matchingbatbites]

Steve proposes to Eddie during DND.

He's played about a dozen times since the Vecna ordeal three years ago, just one-off stories with no real consequences, and while it took him a little bit to get a feel for the game, he's finally reached a point where he doesn't feel totally out of place.

It helps that Eddie absolutely lights up every time Steve agrees to play, that his boyfriend tends to go a little easier on the rest of the table because they all help Steve half-fumble through the mechanics. It's worth it when Eddie beams at him for figuring something out first, for suggesting a dumb play that has the table screaming when it works.

It's the summer after the kids' senior year, and when Eddie offers to run an all-day one shot to celebrate their graduation, Steve instantly starts planning. He talks to Robin, who absolutely gushes over his idea, and along with Dustin they plan it all out.

He learns the premise of the one-shot from Eddie - there's a big bad who's been taking people from the kingdom, and the king is finally forced to do something when his own son, the prince, is also taken - and Dustin helps him make a character, a fighter who is the personal guard of the prince, whose goal is to find and bring him back safely.

Eddie seems pleased with the character when Steve explains it to him, even more so when Steve suggests the idea that they've fallen for each other and have been lovers in secret. "You're such a romantic, sweetheart," Eddie says before kissing him, and Steve knows it’s a tease and a compliment, knows that Eddie loves how soft he can get over things like that.

The game happens about two weeks later, and Eddie wasn’t joking when he called it an all-day affair.

They get started at about ten that morning, Steve and Eddie, their four boys, and Erica all crowded around the little dining table in Steve and Eddie's little apartment, with Robin, El, and Max entertaining themselves in the adjacent living room.

At Eddie’s insistence, they take a break every couple of hours so everyone can get up and stretch and use the toilet, with slightly longer breaks for lunch and dinner (sandwiches and pizza, respectively, both provided by Steve and Eddie).

The big bad is defeated at around nine that night, and everyone is elated as Eddie takes them through the aftermath, letting each player character have a short moment to reunite with their stolen friends and loved ones.

Robin and the girls have moved to sit on the nearby kitchen counter to listen, partly because El always enjoys these soft moments in the story, and partly because Robin knows what’s going to happen soon.

Steve stays quiet, letting the others have their moment as he fights down the sudden anxiety that sparks through him, knowing what he’s about to do. He looks up when Eddie says his name, takes a steadying breath, and asks "Do I see the prince?"

Eddie nods, says "You do."

"I go over to him."

"He sees you approaching and he rushes to you, meeting you halfway. As soon as you're close enough, he throws his arms around you and says 'I knew you would save me, darling.'"

Steve smiles. "I say, 'I always will, my love' and then I kiss him."

The teens hoot and holler a little as Eddie grins. "He kisses you back, and for a moment it's like everything else fades to the background. All that matters is him, back where he belongs, safe in your arms."

Steve nods, and before he loses his nerve asks "Can I do something?"

Eddie quirks a brow, curious. "Of course,” he says, and Steve takes a breath to steady himself.

"I take his hand, and then I drop to one knee."

A couple of the teens give little 'ooh's as Eddie looks at him, clearly a little surprised, and Steve continues before he can say anything.

"Three years ago, I took my place by your side as your personal guard. I swore to care for you, to protect you from anything that would want to hurt you, and somewhere along the way, we fell in love."

Steve swallows, knows he's blurring the line of character and person as he speaks, staring at Eddie across the table.

"The last three years have been everything to me. Any time I'm not with you, you're the only thing I can think about, and every day spent with you is a fucking gift, because I know just how close I came to losing you."

The sudden urge to touch Eddie becomes overwhelming and he stands, watches Eddie's shocked face as he rounds the table and drops to a knee in front of his lover. Eddie's eyes are wide and he gives a soft "Steve?" as Steve takes a slender hand in his own, remembers the words he had practiced over and over with Dustin.

"I don't want to be just a fighter anymore. I want to be a paladin, set on a righteous path, and if you'll let me, I want to make an Oath of Devotion. Not to any god or angel, but to you, the love of my life."

Steve pulls the ring from his pocket and offers it to Eddie. It's very much not traditional, and at first glance seems to be just another chunky ring that blends in with Eddie's current selection. But Steve had to get it, the shield molded onto the band and the new 'beloved' engraved on the inside repeating what Steve always says, I'll protect you, I love you.

Eddie is in tears as Steve stares him down, as he gently asks "Eddie Munson, will you marry me?"

For just a second, Eddie is completely still, save for his shaky breathing. Steve doesn't get scared, he knows that sometimes it takes Eddie a second to register things when he's overwhelmed. He waits it out, and after a few seconds Eddie blinks rapidly before jerking forward, dropping to his knees as he throws his arms around Steve. "Fuck yes! Of course I will!"

Cheers erupt through the room, and a flash goes off when they meet in a kiss. Eddie looks over to see Robin with a camera in her hand and tears streaming down her face. “Don’t mind me,” she says, a bit choked up even as she beams at them, and Eddie’s head whips back to Steve.

“You planned this!” he yells, unable to stop his own tears from falling, and Steve laughs. “Of course I did!” is his reply as he takes Eddie’s hand back so he can slide the ring onto it, and he ignores the second flash from where Robin sits.

“Wanted it to be perfect,” Steve says softly, stroking his thumb over the ring, now at its new home on Eddie’s finger. “Wanted you to know how much you mean to me, and I figured something nerdy would hit all the right buttons.”

“I helped with the nerd stuff!” Dustin calls from his seat, and Eddie laughs wetly as he scrubs at the tear tracks on his cheeks. “I should have known something was up with you, Henderson. You’ve been bouncing off the walls for weeks.”

Steve stands up from the floor before helping Eddie up, and they both grunt as Dustin practically slams into them for a hug, quickly followed by a more reserved El. They hug each of the kids in turn and accept their congratulations, and after a few minutes Eddie is put together enough to actually finish out the one-shot.

Later that night as they're getting ready for bed, Eddie presses up behind Steve, one hand sliding to rest on his stomach and the other opening in front of them, revealing a simple, gold band.

"You beat me to it, you dick," he says with so much tenderness, and Steve laughs as he takes the ring.

"You can still do your proposal, if you want," Steve replies, heart swelling as he looks over the band, sees the little 'sweetheart' engraved on the inside.

"Nah, there's no way I can top what you did for me."

"I dunno, you normally top me pretty well," Steve teases, just to hear Eddie's delighted little cackle.

He turns and hands the ring back to Eddie, asks "Put it on me?" and Eddie smiles. He takes the ring and slides it onto Steve's finger, his thumb brushing over shiny metal, and Steve feels so fucking happy as they meet in the middle for a kiss.

[kittenintheden]

Ethics Review

Dave Matthews voice: I DID IT

Tav (reader) and Astarion pay his old office at the Courts a visit in the middle of the night for funsies and things get spicy.

aka it's the switchy bitchy magistrate roleplay fic

Rating: E Word Count: 5.2k Pairing: Astarion/reader (Tav) Content: 18+, light BDSM elements, sexual roleplay, bitches be switches, dirty talk, spanking, orgasm denial, light edgeplay, oral sex, PIV sex (AFAB reader, not gendered)

AO3 Link

It’s late, but then, it’s always late when you’re out with Astarion these days. By necessity, mostly, but also because it’s the best time for the pair of you to get up to your more unsavory plans without catching the watchful eye of the newly-reformed Fist.

“Where are you taking me?” you laugh as you follow him through a series of dark alleys. “This better not end with me having to send for Gale to get your hand out of another magicked jar.”

“Never going to let me live that down, are you?” He looks over his shoulder and gives you an affectionate smirk.

“Not ever.”

Astarion peers around the corner of a brown brick building, checking that the coast is clear. To you, he says, “You’re lucky I’m such a kind and forgiving soul.”

“Ah, yes,” you agree, wrapping your arms around him from behind and nuzzling his neck. “Two of your most obvious and accurate qualities.”

He chuckles. “We’re almost there. Come on.”

A labyrinthine dozen alleyways later, you’re deposited in an open square, quiet and still. The cobblestones are dark with recent rain, sending their petrichor scent into the air. As you follow Astarion out into the space, you realize where you are. It’s the Courthouse District of the Lower City, where people are tried and held for petty crimes that aren’t suitable for Wyrm’s Rock.

You huff a laugh through your nose and look over at your partner with a raised eyebrow. “Did you need to tell me something? Have a court date you forgot to mention?”

“Hush,” he playfully scolds you, holding a finger up to his lips. “Let me think a moment.”

He peers up at a particular building on the square and furrows his brow, closing his eyes and moving his hands through the air. You fold your arms and watch as he moves his fingers like he’s following a path only he can see, turning corners and raising level by level. At last, he opens his eyes, and points at window on the third floor, two in from the corner.

“That one,” he says.

“That one what?” you prompt.

He grins devilishly. “That…” he points again. “... is my old office. I thought we might pay it a visit.”

“To what end?” you laugh.

“What can I say, I’m feeling a touch nostalgic these days.” He keeps his eye on the window and beckons you to follow closer to the building. “Something about my old haunts is calling to me.”

Behind where he can’t see, you pay him an affectionate smile. In the last year or so since the fall of the Nether Brain, you’ve seen the city rebuilt and gone on your fair share of adventures and quests, always searching for some way to give Astarion back the sunlight you promised him. No luck yet, but there have been promising leads here and there. It’s not a lost cause. Not yet.

The last few months in particular have seen certain changes in your lover. The terror and fear he carried for so long clung to him like a shadow, and ever so slowly it’s beginning to lift. His laugh is more present than before, more real. The intimate moments you share are filled with trust and care, even as you get more comfortable pushing a few boundaries here and there.

Most of all, he’s been remembering. Not everything. There are parts of his past forever lost to him, written over by more years of torment than he ever had of life. But there’ve been flashes every now and again of who he used to be. Some of them he likes, some he loathes. He doesn’t always talk about it, but you know being able to pick up a piece once in a while has meant a great deal to him.

So you follow along with whatever little game he has planned.

He walks along the building, scanning the brick for footholds. Just as he puts his hand on a storm drain and tenses to leap, you halt him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. When he looks back at you, you flick your eyes up toward the window.

“Three up, two in from then end?” you ask.

He nods.

“Allow me, love.”

You hold up your hand and cobalt magic pools in your palm, forming into a sphere. You send it up above you, the arcane eye floating until it finds the correct window before it slips inside. You blink, your own eyes glowing blue as you use your magic to scan the room. It’s certainly an office of some sort.

Astarion takes your hand when you hold it out for him and instantly you’re transported inside the office thanks to a handy little dimensional door spell you picked up on one of your many adventures. You wave away the arcane eye and give Astarion a wink.

He smirks and shakes his head at you. “Take all of the fun out of the thing, why don’t you,” he says through his smile. “Suppose I’ll have to make do with checking that the place isn’t alarmed. Alas.”

The place is, indeed, alarmed. Astarion manages to disarm two common magic wires and one trickier sending stone scattered throughout the room. You reach out through the Weave for any other whispers of magic. Some artifacts and lightly magical office supplies. Nothing worrisome.

Once you’re both satisfied that you won’t end up immediately arrested, Astarion moves to the center of the room, hands clasped behind his back. You’re quiet as he scans the walls, turning in a slow circle as he takes everything in. His fangs flash as he gives a quiet laugh.

“The layout is different, and the color,” he says. “But yes, this is the place.” He furrows his brow slightly and holds out his hands, eyes on the floor. “I… worked here. Me. A magistrate.” His eyes find you and his smile widens. “It was a lie for so much longer than it was a reality. But it was a reality, once upon a time.”

“I’m surprised,” you say, folding your arms and nonchalantly stepping closer. “The way you spoke and dressed when we first met, I thought you must’ve been an Upper City fancy defending-the-powerful type.”

Astarion clicks his tongue at you. “Now, don’t be judgmental. That’s my job.” He waves a hand through the air. “I was quite young in my career, but I was working my way up. All the way to the third floor, thank you.”

You come in to wrap your arms around his waist and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you. Genuinely.”

He spreads his fingers over your forearm, pressing his lips to your hair. “Thank you. That’s always nice to hear.” He clears his throat and removes your arms, backing away from you with a toss of his head. “But don’t be too proud. I wasn’t exactly a… what’s the term? Model citizen.”

Astarion begins to walk around the small table with four chairs set in the center of the room.

“Oh?” you say, walking around the other side to mirror him. “Were you terribly corrupt?”

He pauses and tilts his head, shrugging. “‘Terribly’ is such a strong word, isn’t it? Lets just say I may have been known to, ah… sway the odds in my favor.”

You stop and look across the table at him. “What do magistrates even do, exactly? What did you do, specifically?”

“An absolutely stupid amount of paperwork, as I recall,” he says. “At least, I certainly remember hating every scrap that came across the desk. Meting out appropriate punishment for any minor and petty crime you can think of, most of them horrifically boring. But…” He leans over the table and holds up a finger. “... sometimes I got to conduct interviews to determine if crime was worthy of Wyrm’s Rock, and I was very good at getting the verdict I wanted.”

You rather like seeing this side of Astarion. Honest pride, confidence, and authority. The tip of your tongue runs along your bottom lip as you take in your love leaning over that table, dappled in moonlight. Gods, he’s beautiful.

“And how did you do that?” You pop your hip and raise your thumb to your mouth, teasing your lip as you peer up at him through your eyelashes. “Exactly?”

Astarion notices the shift in your demeanor immediately, his own eyes going half-lidded as they track the path of your hand to your mouth. His grin goes predatory and he leans back so he can come around the table to you and pull out the chair.

“Please, darling,” he says, nodding for you to sit. “Let’s talk, you and I.”

You pay him a sultry smile and sink into the chair, which he pushes in under you. Then he walks back around to the other side with his spine straight, hands folded behind his back.

A new game begins.

Astarion rolls out his shoulders as if he’s shedding a coat. When he turns to look at you, he does so down the length of his nose, his hard gaze making it clear that he thinks you beneath him.

You shiver as a thrill runs down your back and attempt to hide it.

He shakes his head above you, tutting. You’ve disappointed him.

Instinctively, you shrink into your chair slightly as he leans forward and places the tips of his fingers against the table in front of him, continuing to lower his face until it’s a mere foot from yours.

“A pathetic display back there,” he says, voice dripping with condescension. “Your associates have hung you out to dry. You do know that…” He tilts his head. “... don’t you?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and drop your eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Silly little patsy,” he chides as he straightens to glare down at you again. “Such stars in your eyes for friends who would sooner see you burn than stick their necks out for you.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” you say, raising your eyes to him in defiance even as you let a waver of nerves shake your voice.

“What must it be like to be so tragically misguided?” he sneers. It’s like an echo of a man you once knew. One you met on a sunny beach amid burning wreckage.

You blink up at him, eyes going soft. “I can’t betray them.”

“Betray them,” he breathes, huffing a mirthless laugh as he leans one hand onto a nearby chair. “My dear, they are in the next room, and the room after that, giving you up as we speak. No loyalty among thieves, I fear.”

“No,” you gasp. “They wouldn’t.”

Astarion holds a finger up to his lips, shushing you. “I think you know better than that. But fine, have it your way. Don’t give them up to save your own hide. Let me sweeten the pot.”

He turns his body so he can side-sit on the table and put his first knuckle under your chin, lifting it so he can inspect you. The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Gold to line your pockets, perhaps?”

Though you try to stop it, your body betrays you as a bright blush blooms across your nose and cheeks. Astarion’s pupils dilate above you.

“Or something else entirely?” he whispers, tilting his mouth closer to yours. “I’d much sooner send those two cads to Wyrm’s Rock in your place. Help me, and maybe you and I could have a bit of…” His eyes trail down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and beyond before he looks back into your eyes. “... fun in celebration.”

“Why would you do that for me?” you whisper back.

He shrugs. “What can I say? I rather like you. Plus, I might get a little kickback in the form of a promotion for bringing in two thorns in the Fist’s side, but that’s neither here nor there.” He rolls his eyes and pays you a flirtatious smile on the last bit.

And that… is your opening.

Your expression grows serious and you note the moment that Astarion’s eyebrows give the briefest twitch of concern.

"You've overplayed your hand, Magistrate Ancunín," you say.

Astarion draws his hand back and gives you a perplexed look. “Have I?”

You smile, then. Calm and dangerous. "I've been sent by the Board of Ethics, you see."

Astarion is thrown by this turn, but he recovers quickly, offering a simpering smile. "Oh? Oh, dear. Seems I've been caught with my pants down."

You stand, holding his eye. "Indeed. Best go place your hands on the desk where I can see them."

With a flourish, he holds his hands up for you to see. No funny business, none at all. He goes to the desk and spreads his palms flat against the polished wood. He must feel the heat of your skin as you come close, only inches away. Inspecting. Considering.

You lean in close to his ear. "Say our word if you'd like me to stop, Ancunín," you whisper.

"Stop what?" he asks.

In answer, you grab his hips and pull them flush against your own with enough force that he gasps from it, genuinely surprised. In his ear again, you whisper, "Teaching you a lesson."

You release him and move to his side. He turns his head to look at you and you can see the openmouthed surprise in his face, but it’s more than that. Surprised, yes, but also open. Interested. Very turned on. You know this look.

This is Astarion’s “oh, we’re doing that thing I like?” look. It’s a good look on him.

You tap a finger on his nearest hand. “Keep these exactly where they are. I must warn you that you face serious repercussions for witness tampering. I have some questions. Answer them to my satisfaction, and I may consider…” Your gaze trails down to the front of his trousers, which are straining. When you meet his eye again, you add, “... reinstatement.”

Astarion tilts his chin down so he can give you a heated look. “Then by all means,” he says, lips parted. “Ask.”

“Hm,” you hum as you trail your fingers over the desk as you walk around to the other side. You mimic his stance with your hands on the table, though yours is one of authority while his is one of awaiting judgment. He tilts his head at you in question, gaze hot. You match it.

“Let’s start with an easy one.” You tilt your head toward the wall without breaking eye contact. “That placard hanging there. What is it?”

He looks and then huffs through his nose. “It’s an oath.”

You tilt your head the other way. “And what does it say?”

Astarion smirks. “‘As an officer of the Court, I will strive to conduct myself at all times with integrity, dignity, and honor.’”

“That’s right,” you say, nodding. “Now tell me, Ancunín… do you feel you’ve conducted yourself in accordance with that oath?”

“Of course,” he answers without hesitation, flashing you a winning smile. “I offered you the utmost dignity and honor, did I not?”

An idea occurs to you and you imagine he catches the twinkle in your eye as you raise one of your hands to click your fingers, a glowing web of pale blue stretching to cage you both inside. Astarion frowns up at it. The moment he realizes what you’ve done, he gives you a look that’s half-exasperated and half-devious.

“What’s this?” he says, playing along.

“A little insurance policy. To ensure your adherence to honesty.” You reach to the collar of your shirt and undo one button. Then another.

Then another.

Astarion struggles to keep his eyes on your face, but when you lean back down onto the table, he can’t help but sneak a peek.

You toy with another button. “Why don’t you tell me what you think about dignity now?”

Astarion bites the corner of his lip to keep his expression serious. He keeps his eyes trained on your chest and seems to carefully consider his words before he says, “I maintain that I respect the dignity of your tits.”

That’s not what he meant to say. He blinks. His eyes flick up to yours. “Your position,” he amends.

His eyes flick back down. “Your position and your tits.”

“Ah,” you say. “Yes, I thought that might be the case. That you might be… what do they say? Dipping your wick in the law office wax.”

You stand and come back around to his side, maintaining your spell as you do. Astarion tracks you all the way back around.

“I’d like you to be as honest with me as you can be,” you say softly. “Not that you’ve much choice. So, in that case, here’s some extra… motivation.”

You’re behind him now and you hear his sharp intake of breath when he feels your palms spread over either side of his hips before moving around to the ties at the front of his trousers. You loosen them just enough to give you space.

Astarion’s knuckles are going white where he presses his fingers against the desk.

Your fingers are soft and warm against his lower abdomen as they dip below his waistband, then inside his underthings. You find what you seek and grip it firmly, fisting the length of him. He bites back a groan and flexes his hands against the wood as you draw him out into the open air. 

“You do keep it cool in here,” you whisper into his ear. You keep your touch light as you tease his cock, just enough to make him want but not nearly enough to satiate the need. “Why is that?”

Astarion swallows and looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “A little discomfort loosens the tongue, I find.” He struggles to keep the breathiness out of his voice and very nearly succeeds. 

Nearly. 

Your smile is wicked. “I see. Well.”

You rest his hardened length against the varnished wood of the desk. It’s cool on his touch-warmed skin and he whines lightly as you leave him there to walk around to his other side, fingertips drawing a trail across his broad back and shoulders.

“In that case, we’ll be leaving that…” You glance down at his cock, then back at his face. “… out in the cold until you’ve answered my questions to my satisfaction. Understood?”

He takes a deep breath through his nose and meets your eye. “Completely.”

“Good.” You move one of his misplaced curls back into place. “If I’m satisfied, I just might let you warm it up again. We shall see.”

“Indeed we shall,” he says, voice dropping deeper, and you can sense the challenge there. You smile as you turn away from him.

“Let’s try again,” you say. “Do you make a habit of lying to your interviewees in hopes of manipulating a confession?”

“Is ‘lying’ the word we want to use?” he says with a lilt.

“Yes.” You turn back to look at him.

He clears his throat, chewing his tongue to hide another smile before he looks away. He thinks a moment, then says, “I occasionally massage my message to pave the way for a more fruitful discussion in my favor, yes. Only in the interest of this office and my personal satisfaction.” He smirks at you, clearly pleased with himself.

You shake your head. “My, my. And just when I thought we were getting somewhere. Perhaps you need a reminder that I hold your immediate future in my hands?”

When you move back in and loosen his trousers still further to shove down his hips and below his arse, he wriggles to help. He seems to think he’s won this phase of the game. Adorable.

Rather than give him any relief, you reach out to the desk and pick up a wooden ruler, thin and flexible. Astarion opens his mouth, presumably to ask what you’re doing, but doesn’t get the chance as you use the flat of the ruler to give him a quick smack on his bare arse. 

He cries out in surprise and looks around at you. You raise an eyebrow at him and give him the opportunity to call his out. Instead, you watch his eyes darken. He’s still in. Which is good, because gods above if you aren’t beginning to make a mess of your underwear already.

“Do you understand your situation?” you ask.

“Maybe you ought to remind me again,” he rumbles.

You do, leaving another slap on his pale skin. A shiver travels up his back from the base of his spine all the way up.

“I understand,” he says.

“Very good,” you say. “Do you manipulate the outcomes of your interviews?”

“Sometimes, yes,” he says quietly, peering up at you from under his brows.

“Thank you for your honesty. With bribery?”

He nods.

You bend forward so you’re eye-to-eye. “And do you frequently offer favors of a sexual nature?”

Astarion’s gaze drops to your mouth and he blinks heavily. “That’s only for when I see someone I like,” he says.

There’s another slap to his arse, quick as reflex, and he gives a small, broken “a-ah” as he drops his head. He spoke the truth, your spell ensures that, but you want him to be more specific. You look down to see he’s subtly grinding himself against the desk, his cock beginning to weep pre-fluid as you watch.

You place the ruler against his back to hold him in place. “None of that,” you say. “Not until you clarify. Why me?”

He groans in frustration. “Because I like you. Because I’m attracted to you. Because I want to be inside you and fuck and fuck and fuck until we’re both hoarse from crying our ecstasy.”

Well. The pair of underwear you’re wearing are officially done for, you fear.

“What a wicked tongue you have,” you breathe, not quite able to keep up your aura of authority. You swallow and add, “Perhaps I’ll consider letting you off with a warning if we can figure out a better use for it.”

Astarion goes to his knees so quickly it makes your head spin. You don’t hesitate to take care of the bindings on your own trousers and he’s eager to help, shoving your clothing to the floor. You’re trying to remove a boot when he presses his face into the crux of your legs and runs his tongue along the seam of you so hotly that you nearly fall over. You lean down and give him another half-hearted smack. All it does is elicit a groan against your most sensitive of places.

With some struggle, you manage to remove the boot, kick your trousers and underthings off of one leg, and hop up to sit on the desk, Astarion follows you along, refusing to let you leave him now that he’s on you. His mouth works against you on its own, tongue lapping firmly at the edges of your cunt, flushing you and making you swell. He hasn’t even touched your clit yet and you know you’re already slick with desire.

You’re so momentarily distracted that you almost miss where his hands have gone.

Chest heaving, you weakly wave to dismiss your Zone of Truth and call up your mage hand, sending it down where you can’t reach to grab the wrist of the hand Astarion’s using to pump his cock while he licks at you.

“I don’t think so,” you gasp. “Still on… probation.”

You’re losing the thread and you’re perfectly okay with it.

Astarion growls in response and comes up higher on his knees, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you tight against his face. His tongue finally finds your center and he rolls it against your entrance, plying the place just inside that makes you go flush with arousal, your clit swelling further. Then he finally pays it attention with a light draw followed by firm circles, teasing until you feel sparkles of arcane energy tingling at your fingertips and zaps of pleasure shoot through your core.

He holds you so tight to him that there’s no escape from the assault of pleasure he’s waging on your body. All too soon, you’re whimpering as you approach your peak.

And Astarion simply stops. He leaves you there, right before the edge, and you cry out in dismay and frustration. Before you realize what’s happening, he’s on his feet and pulling you onto yours, spinning you around until your hips are pressed to the edge of the dark wood. You can feel his rock hard length against the cleft of your arse, feel the wetness at the tip of him against your lower back.

“You’ve overplayed your hand this time, I think,” he pants into your ear. “Let your guard down. What member of the Board of Ethics accepts bribes?”

When you try to wriggle free, you feel his fingers at your wrists. He takes your hands and spreads them on the desk as you’d done to him, bending you over. His hips draw back and then return and you feel his hardness drag over your folds from behind, teasing but not quite putting pressure on your clit.

His breathing is heavy, but through it, he manages, “This time, you tell me the truth. Why did you meet with me?”

“To catch you out,” you gasp. “Your behavior has been… unethical.”

“Is it unethical to recognize when someone wants your cock?” he whispers, sending a tingle over your shoulders. “Is it against my oath to offer?”

“That’s not… I didn’t…”

The head of his cock nudges your clit and you both hiss through your teeth. He pulls back until he catches at your entrance, pushing in just barely. Just enough to begin to feel him, but nowhere near enough of him. Instinctively you arch your back harder, trying to take more, but he won’t let you.

“Beg me,” he growls in your ear. “Beg me for my cock. Tell me it’s why you came here.”

Your very last thread of remaining restraint is pulled to its absolute limit, but it doesn’t break quite yet. “I came here on orders to uncover a magistrate with loose morals,” you manage.

Astarion reaches a hand up to the hair at the back of your head, grabs a handful, and gently pulls to bend your head back. Directly into your ear, he whispers, “You’ve found him. Now beg for it.”

In the quiver of his voice, you can hear that he’s the one begging you.

So you give in.

“I came here for you,” you whisper back. “Please, let me. Let me take your cock.”

His breath shudders out of him. “Take it you shall.”

Astarion thrusts his hips forward, burying himself in you, and you hardly have time to so much as gasp before he sets a punishing rhythm, one arm around your waist to hold you in place and the other one still tangled up in your hair. You arch deeply, giving him as much access as you can, and he pounds into you relentlessly. On the outskirts of your awareness, you feel bruises beginning to form on your hipbones from where they repeatedly hit the desk.

You don’t care one whit.

He keeps you bent over the desk, your palms spread to keep you both upright as he fucks you hard, his moans trapped behind his clenched teeth. As you fly full speed back to your edge, he removes the hand from your head and absently places it over your mouth to muffle your own escalating cries.

The coil of your climax tightens and Astarion begins to mutter a steady mantra of “yes, yes, yes, gods, yes” beside your ear. He presses himself all the way to the hilt and rocks, the base of him stretching you just right and his balls pressed firm to your clit and there, oh there, it’s right-

You scream behind Astarion’s palm as you come, the delicious tension boiling and spilling over as contractions roll through you, pleasure washing over your body with every heartbeat. You nearly blank out for a second and when you blink back down, your lover continues to pump into you as he chases his own end.

With a shaking hand, you call up your mage hand from where it shimmers nearby and press it to his chest, pushing back with soft pressure.

“No,” Astarion whines, attempting one or two more thrusts before you back him up. “No, please, please, I didn’t finish, I-”

You turn, bottomless and eyes full of fuck and revenge, and add your own hands to the mix, all three pushing him back until he hits the deposition table, going flat on his back. You crawl up over him and straddle him, up on your knees just out of reach.

You look down upon him, beautiful and fucked out in the moonlight. “Do you regret any of it?” you say.

“I’m regretting a lot of my decisions at the moment,” he snarks. His lips part as he breathes.

With a smile, you roll your hips just enough to catch the head of his cock back at your opening. “Do you regret any of it?” you repeat.

He pants, looking up at you. Then he reaches up to grip the front of your shirt and pull you down over him in a searing kiss. When you break, he whispers, “No. Not a moment. It brought me to you.”

You roll back, sinking down onto him. He gasps and throws his arms around you, helping you get back into rhythm, and he’s so close that it’s barely any time at all before he arches his back clear up off the table and groans as he spills inside of you, the relief painted across every inch of his face. He comes for nearly a minute, twitching and humming beneath you until he finally relaxes into a boneless heap.

When he next opens his eyes, you lean down and catch him in another kiss.

The pair of you have barely redressed and cast a few prestidigitation cantrips as a courtesy before there’s a sound somewhere down the hall. Footsteps. Coming closer.

“Shit,” Astarion whispers, startled. He grabs your hand and spins you both into a dim corner of the room before you both cast Invisibility. Just in the nick of time, it appears, because there’s a jangle of keys and then a harried-looking halfling comes bustling into the room, dark bags under their eyes.

They grumble to themselves for a moment, going to a box to sort through files. They don’t find what they’re looking for and move on to the desk. Once there, they open a drawer, then wrinkle their nose.

“Bleeding hells, it smells like sex in here,” they grumble. “Gonna tell Jackobson that Cole has been using his office again. Teach that arsehole for making me come fetch the file he forgot.”

The halfling pulls a file from the drawer, slams it, and exits the room.

Neither of you move for the rest of the minute your invisibility lasts. As soon as the cloaking spell fades, you both collapse to the floor in quiet giggles. You kiss Astarion through your laughter, again and again.

It’s nice to see this side of him.

[caelivir]

red lips, dying for a kiss | rayne ames

— synopsis. in which rayne discovers that red lip combos are his weakness.

— pairing. rayne ames x fem!reader

— genres. university au, friends-ish to lovers, rayne has a little bit of a crush

— word count. 2.3k

— warnings. very brief violence mention in the beginning, alcohol consumption (rayne and reader are 21 in this), making out (i tried to keep it brief), ooc rayne but he’s kinda drunk so

— notes. breaking theme for this one but it’s okay. i wanted to drop this on valentine’s day… clearly that didn’t work out. also as i go to post this hidden lights reached 1k notes which is absolutely insane to think of. thank you for giving it so much love. anyway, happy 100 followers! thanks for sticking with me. enjoy!

dedicated to all the rayne girlies. i pray we find (or already have) a man like him. ♡

ryoh’s parties are always a bad idea. rayne can’t count the number of times something has gone wrong. cops show up. someone locks every single bathroom from the inside. a dumbass jumps off the roof and into the pool. any incident you could think of has probably happened. the last one rayne went to nearly got him screwed over when he fought against a guy picking on his brother, and it was not pretty (for the other guy) to say the least.

from that moment on, rayne had made the decision to never attend another one of ryoh’s parties. it doesn’t matter who begged him or what the circumstances were. no one was going to change his mind on that.

unfortunately, ryoh grantz would not have that. it took three days and a two hundred dollar bribe to convince rayne to go because who would he be if not taking advantage of the rich.

so that’s where he finds himself now, standing in a circle with his friends as music blasts in ryoh’s mansion. they talk about who knows what as rayne wishes he could go home. he has to see it out though because this would be the easiest two hundred dollars he would ever make.

his second red solo cup of the night is filled with some unknown (but surprisingly delicious) concoction that sits untouched. he swirls the cup around in his hand, his eyes darting around the room for an escape.

rayne chugs his entire drink down, setting the empty cup on the first surface he finds before mumbling an excuse of having to use the bathroom, not caring whether his friends heard it or not. he stops by the kitchen to rummage through a cooler, skin freezing as he digs through the ice. he finds two cans of a beer brand that he likes.

he weaves through the crowd in the living room, trying his best to not bump into anyone or spill any drinks because the last thing he needs is another altercation.

unfortunately for him, life always has a curveball in store for him.

“hey, look! (y/n)’s here!” someone had yelled, causing people to push closer towards the front door. the flow carries him closer despite his protests.

the half blonde finds you easily. it’s hard to miss your bright smile, even in a room surrounded by dozens. a crowd surrounds you and your group of friends. they greet you with hellos, offer drinks, and fight for your attention. you try your best to address everyone as you and your friends inch closer to the dance floor.

rayne knows you. your friend groups overlap often so he was bound to meet you at one point. you're popular around campus, known for your friendly nature, kind acts, and most of all, you're known for your beauty. he hears about a new attempt to gain your affection almost weekly. you never seem to accept them for some odd reason. it doesn't matter who it is. the d1 basketball prodigy? the rich girl in your philosophy class? they'd be rejected all the same. your lack of care for relationships has sparked up rumors, but even those never seem to faze you.

as for his opinion on you, rayne acutally likes you, which is a rare feat considering that the half-blonde cannot stand the presence of most people. but in this case, he likes you. he has the smallest of crushes that he wouldn't dare to admit to anyone except his brother, maybe.

in the times your paths had crossed, you had been an easy person to be around, never doing anything to irritate him and always trying to include him in every conversation and activity. it makes him feel all warm inside. the thought of it brings the ghost of a smile onto his face.

he also can't deny that you are indeed one of the most beautiful people that he's ever come across. you would have to be a fool to try and deny that. it's a little shallow on his part to like you partly for your looks, but he can't help it when your smile has the power to blind angels.

"rayne?" your head tilts, surprise written all over your face. he locates two shots in your hands. "woah, i'm surprised you're here! people said you wouldn't come to these anymore!"

rayne is barely to pick up the sound of your voice over all the music. "got paid to be here." he speaks loudly, avoiding yelling as much as he can.

"well, that's one way to get someone to come to a party." you giggle.

it's at this point where rayne closely inspects your face. his eyes are immediately drawn to your lips, colored in a combination of reds. he's never seen it on you before, and paired with the rest of the makeup on your face, it stands out, commands attention.

and it looks… really fucking good. rayne takes the sight of you in fully. yeah, you look really fucking good tonight. the half-blonde gulps, forcing his eyes back up to your face.

"take this with me!" you urge rayne, holding out a plastic shot glass to him.

unwilling to bring himself to say no to you, rayne sighs, accepting it. the two of you raise your glasses up in a silent toast before pressing the plastic to his lips, tilting his head back, and letting the alcohol slide down his throat. it burns. it tastes horrid on his tastebuds. the half-blonde scrunches his nose in disgust, and you take the empty glass from him, how you went unbothered by such a disgusting beverage is beyond him.

as much as rayne wishes he could be with you, he desperately longs to find someplace quiet. the bass of the music pounds against his head. "i'll see you around, (y/n). have fun tonight. be safe." rayne says.

"oh okay. see you rayne." you frown, but maybe that's just the lighting messing with him. he swears there's disappointment laced in your voice, but that could also just be the alcohol playing games with him.

rayne makes his way upstairs. he prays that he won't barge into people having sex. luckily for him, it's still early, and the room that he chooses, the one at the very end of the hall, is empty. he relaxes the moment he locks the door as if a weight was being lifted off him.

the half-blonde sets his unopened beers onto the nightstand and lies on the made bed. he stares at the ceiling for fifteen minutes, contemplating his life choices. his thoughts drift to you and your gorgeous lips, but he’s quick to dismiss them. when he’s finished with that, he cracks open his first beer, leaving a ring of condensation on the nightstand, and opens up his phone.

the next hour or so is spent watching compilations of bunnies and sipping on his beers. it’s perfectly fine like this. save for the bass of the music bouncing against the walls, it’s peaceful. he feels the effects of the alcohol he drank humming in his veins. it puts him into a lighter mood. however, that peace is disturbed when there’s a loud pounding on the door.

“what the hell?” rayne mumbles under his breath. did someone confuse this room for the bathroom? the half-blonde pulls himself out of bed, unlocks the door, and cracks it open just a little bit to see who it is.

“rayne, is that you? oh my god, please let me in.” you beg, clasping your hands together in prayer.

confused, but without any complaint, he allows you into the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it.

you practically collapse on the edge of the bed, and rayne can sense that something is amiss.

“are you alright?” he asks cautiously, standing a foot away from you.

“do you ever just get sick of people?” you ponder suddenly, shooting to sit straight up.

“sure.” rayne shrugs, still unmoving from his spot.

“you can’t tell anyone i told you this,” you point at him with narrowed eyes, voice slurred. “swear you won’t.”

“i won’t.”

“good.” you nod. “as i was saying, i get so sick of people sometimes. being popular is fucking exhausting. i don’t know how much longer i can keep up with this. i swear i can’t enjoy things on my own time without people barging in or commenting on it.

“i can’t sit on a couch to catch my breath without people wanting to talk to me. not that that’s bad of course, i love talking to people, but christ, just back up a bit. like can’t they just take a hint and realize that i don’t want to talk? do you get that?”

rayne nods. “must be rough.”

“it is,” you groan and then sigh, standing up to dust off your clothes. you stumble from dizziness after having gotten up too fast. however, you shake the feeling out. “sorry, i shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you. that was a stupid thing to complain about.”

“no, it wasn’t.” rayne argues. “people who are always in your space are fucking annoying. i would know so there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way.” at this point, he could tell the alcohol is doing its number on him, making him more vocal and bold.

“do i annoy you, rayne?” you ask, eyelashes batting at him, this innocent worry behind your eyes. it drives him mad.

“no.” he says sternly, inching closer, his gaze falling to your crimson lips. that damn red lipstick. he wonders what would happen if he were to mess it up. what would happen if he were to ruin that precise lining of color? what you let him cross that line? in his tipsy state of mind, he wants to find out.

“are you sure? because i know whenever we see each other i kinda cling to you, but if that bothers you, just let me know. really it’s no-” you ramble before rayne cuts you off.

“i want to kiss you.” the half-blonde mutters. his eyes stare deep into your own. your eyebrows raise in shock.

"huh?"

"i want" rayne's hand flexes at his side as he exhales, resisting the urge to touch you. "to kiss you."

"why?" you whisper so quietly that he almost didn't hear you.

maybe this is a reckless decision. maybe he shouldn't be risking a friendship with a drunken mind, but honestly in the moment, he really couldn't care less. he can regret it in the morning if things fell apart.

"i like you." rayne admits.

a moment of silence falls onto the room. you stare and stare, sinking your eyes deep into rayne’s as his confession weighs further down onto you.

“oh thank god.” you exhale, pulling rayne in by his shirt.

rayne practically melts into the feeling of your lips, soft against his own. he can taste faint traces of alcohol on you. he places his hands on your hips to press your bodies together. his palms explore your figure, circling around your lower back, trailing upwards to your ribs and back down to your waist. your hands entangle themselves in his hair, eliciting a soft groan out of him.

kissing you is a feeling like no other. it’s straight euphoria, maybe even something greater than that. the butterflies flap violently on his stomach. fireworks ignite his blood. being with you is like soaring across the sky.

you deepen the kiss, exploring each other with such desperation that it makes you dizzy. his tongue moves against yours in perfect sync, as if it were a choreographed dance. by the time you pull away to catch air, you and rayne are breathless, huffing as the half-blonde rests his forehead against yours.

you beautiful red lipstick is now smeared across your mouth, staining at the corners and below the chin. rayne pulls his head back. his fingers graze over your lips, admiring the mess. he’s sure it transferred onto him as well.

“you got something right there.” you joke, pointing at him.

“shut up.” he whispers. however, a smile breaks out onto his face, betraying his words.

“so,” you say, snaking your arms around the half-blonde’s waist. “the rayne ames has a crush on me? i never thought i’d see the day.”

he hums as confirmation. “would i be wrong to guess that you like me too?”

“no.” you grin. “in fact, you’d be one hundred percent right.”

“wonderful.” he mutters, leaning in for another kiss. you turn your head, having him miss your mouth entirely.

“i’m starting to believe you only like me so you could have a make out partner.” you tease, causing the half-blonde to sigh at your antics.

“i like you because you’re kind.”

he pecks one cheek.

“because you’re fun.”

he pecks the other.

“because you’re intelligent.”

he presses his stained lips to your forehead.

“because you’re so beautiful.”

rayne kisses the tip of your nose.

“my beautiful, (y/n).” he mumbles with a barely noticeable slur, cupping your face.

“you should drink more often. i like this side of you.” you comment, looking up at him with a gaze that drives him crazy.

“please just let me kiss you again.” rayne quietly begs, his mouth centimeters from yours.

“kiss me whenever you want.” you whisper before colliding with him once more.

in the morning, ryoh has to pick the lock to get into the guest bedroom. he stumbles in pissed off and ready to blow up on the person who dared to put him through such a hassle.

however, the sight he walks into flips his mood instantly. ryoh finds you and rayne tangled in each other’s arms completely knocked out. upon closer inspection, he notes the matching lipstick stains on both of your mouths, and a knowing smirk spreads across his face.

the blonde man pulls out his phone, snapping pictures in different angles to solidify this moment in history.

“he better thank me for this.” ryoh says to himself before walking out and shutting the door behind him.

[thatwritergirlsblog]

10 worst ways to start a book

1. An irrelevant point of view

It's extremely frustrating as a reader to read the opening scene of a novel, get invested in the story and start rooting for the POV character, only to have that character never show up again or show up as an unimportant character.

Your readers will feel betrayed. Why did they get emotionally invested in this character? Why did they care?

One of the most important functions of your first scene or chapter is introducing your main character and getting the reader to root for them.

Don’t waste that crucial moment on an unimportant POV.

2. Too many characters

Starting to read a new book is usually a bit confusing. You have to get to know new characters, a new world, a new writing style etc.

Don’t add to that confusion by introducing two dozen characters in the opening scene. Readers won’t remember their names or care about them; they’ll just feel overwhelmed and confused.

Additionally, readers will also struggle to root for the main character, because there are too many other people crowding the scene.

3. Telling

My name is Lisa. I’m a short, feisty brunette who loves horse riding. I have two best friends called Anna and Daniel, and we carpool to college every day. I have a crush on Josh, one of my tutors, but he’s twenty-seven and isn’t interested in me.

Telling is boring. It has its place, but the start of your novel is not it. The above paragraph could have been an interesting scene in which you showed the reader all the information via action and dialogue.

Unless you’re using subversion to surprise the reader, e.g., My name is Lisa and I’m a class-three demon, don’t start with telling. 

Immerse the reader in the story through action, dialogue and the senses. Show us who the main character is, don’t just tell us.

4. Description

Please don’t start your book with a page-long description of the setting. In fact, I would recommend not starting with description at all. 

Yes, a few lines of description later in the opening scene is fine. But the reader needs to care first. 

No matter how beautiful your writing is, readers won’t be sucked in by a five-paragraph description of a field.

5. Worldbuilding info dump

Please don’t start your book with an explanation of your world’s climate, politics, history, magic system etc. 

Once again, the reader needs to care first. 

There needs to be action and conflict and a compelling plot. The world exists as a backdrop for the story and the characters – it’s not the protagonist and it shouldn’t take up the opening scene.

6. The dream sequence

The main reason that this is a bad way to start your book is that it’s been done way too many times.

But that’s not the only reason.

It also feels like a betrayal to the reader, because they got invested in the story and the character and the events, and then you tell them it was never real.

And oftentimes the storyline and world of the dream is much more interesting than the actual story, which makes the latter look very boring in comparison.

7. Looking in a mirror

Once again, it’s just been done too much: A character looking in a mirror and describing their physical appearance to the reader. 

Firstly, no one describes their appearance in detail when they look in the mirror.

Secondly, the reader doesn’t even know who this person is. We don’t know if we’re interested in the character yet. We don’t know why we should care. So, we don’t want a detailed description of the character’s appearance right off the bat.

Show us interesting aspects of your main character’s personality, hobbies and life. Weave in physical description as it becomes relevant. It’s not important enough for the very first paragraph.

8. Starting way too early

Yes, most books don’t start with the inciting incident (although I recommend that they do), but the start of your book shouldn’t be too far away from your inciting incident.

So, don’t start with a long scene describing the main character’s everyday life. The readers want the thing to happen.

Providing context and introducing the main character is fine, but don’t leave the reader hanging for too long before you get to the good stuff.

9. Trying too hard

“Your first line has to be amazing and hook the reader. It needs to be something no one has ever read before.”

I bet you’ve heard that piece of advice hundreds of times. It’s not bad advice, but taken to the extreme, it creates an opening that is disjointed, conflated and confusing.

Your first scene should introduce your character, story and voice. So, don’t write a single line of profound purple prose that has very little to do with your actual story as a first line.

Focus on writing a good story. Introduce the reader to the book and make the main character intriguing. You don’t need a mind-blowing first line.

10. The lesson

Most books have a theme or something the author wants to say. Oftentimes, that takes the form of a life lesson.

This is good, but the lesson needs to be subtly woven into the story.

It should not be forced down the reader’s throat in the very first scene.

Don’t tell me what I’m going to learn, show me the lesson through the story.

If you’d like to read a Fantasy Adventure novel that does not have any of these opening mistakes, check out my debut To Wear A Crown.

Reblog if you found this post useful. Comment with your own tips for writing a good opening scene. Follow for similar content.

[wannabeschyulersister]

but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

“Who’s bright idea was it for us to have the party at our place?” You asked as you took a good look at the mess that was surrounding you.

“Richie. He somehow got out of hosting this year.”

“What a dick.” You joked. Well, kinda.

The staff of The Bear were known to party hard. It was evident by the state of your apartment. Everyone was excited to let loose and ring in the new year together. It had been a hectic couple of months to say the least.

New Year’s was one of your favorite holidays. It was a fresh start to new beginnings. It was also your third new year with Carmen.

“Where should we get started?”

Carmen wrapped his arms around you, “We should just go back to bed.”

“I would love to go back to bed but I can’t in good conscience knowing that we have a wreck here.” You told him as he kissed your cheek.

He groaned playfully and gave you a small squeeze, “I know. I forget that you’re a clean freak.”

“The faster we do this, the quicker we can get back in bed, Berzatto.”

“And what exactly would we do once we’re back in bed?”

“Well, I was thinking….”You leaned in closer and lightly grazed your lips against his. Just as he moved to seal the deal, you tilted your head back, “We can finally start that rewatch of Gilmore Girls.”

Carmen groaned and laughed, “That’s not what I was thinkin’ we should do.”

“Trust me, I know. You gotta get your mind out of the gutter,” you smiled, “Let’s have a game plan. Start in the living room and then finish in the kitchen.”

Carmen grabbed two garbage bags and handed you one. The both of you began picking up trash scattered around the room. You grabbed an empty champagne bottle and placed it in your bag.

“I loved the idea of people taking photos with the Polaroid this year. I’m sure we got some great shots.” You grabbed the stack that was on the floor.

Carmen moved closer to see the photos, “Is that someone’s ass?”

You chuckled, “That’s Richie’s.”

Carmen looked at you puzzled, “How the hell are you able to tell that his bare ass?”

“You can see the scar where Syd stabbed him.” You pointed out.

“Ah, yeah. Still creepy that you knew instantly.” Carmen laughed.

“Trust me, I hate that I knew it instantly too.” You glanced at the rest of the photos that were in the stack. One of Carmen and yourself caught your eye. Tina snapped the photo of the two of you candidly.

It had been close to midnight and Carmen didn’t want to let you out of his grasp before the countdown began. He wanted to savor the last moments of the year with you before ringing in the new one.

“I think we should put this one on the fridge.” You handed the picture to Carmen and it made him smile.

“Yeah, I like this one.”

“I’m glad that everyone felt comfortable here to let loose. Seeing everyone have a fun night after these last few stressful months was really nice.” You said as you grabbed the broom to sweep up some confetti. The glitter on the floor would be a bitch to clean.

“We have some more stressful months coming up,” Carmen added softly, “I hope everyone will be alright at the end of it.”

You knew he was mostly implying himself. The first year of a new restaurant opening was definitely one of the hardest. Trying to stand out from the hundreds and hundreds of already existing establishments was difficult.

Carmen put the stress of the world on his shoulders. You watched and held his hand through it all. There was nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Everyone is in a completely different place than they were when I first met them. I think you guys will be amazing and The Bear is going to be an absolute success.” You kissed his cheek and it made them a little rosy. He was so adorable when he blushed.

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do. I mean look who’s running the place. You and Syd. That’s a dream team if I’ve ever seen one.”

“You’re just gassin’ me up.” Carmen was never good at receiving compliments. That didn’t stop you from giving him dozens of them a day.

“No, I’m not. I’m telling you the truth,” you placed a hand on his chest near his heart, “I’m going to be right beside you through the good and the bad.”

Carmen placed his hand on yours. He didn’t outright say that he needed the reassurance but he was so thankful to get it. It was like you could read his mind.

He would often jump the gun and worry about things prematurely. You were the one to try and keep him grounded in the moment.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” He said softly before kissing you.

“Ditto, Berzatto. You’re stuck with me for life. I don’t ever want to not know you.”

“If I have it my way, you don’t ever have to worry about that happening.”

“Pinky promise?” You held your hand out with your pinky ready to lock with his.

“It’s a promise.”

[spidey-x-male-reader]

can you pls do a hobie brown x Male reader? Like yk how every Spider-Man has like a Gwen or an mj and all the other spiderman ask hobie like “what abt you do you have a gwen or mj?” And he introduces his bf to them?

Pairing: Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) x male!reader

Requested: yes / no

Warnings: ///

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I'm finally getting back into the mood to write again. This is the first x reader I've written since a long time but I'm always happy to get requests to better myself

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

MASTERLIST

“Aaand MJ and Mayday are finally back home” Peter said when walking back into the main hall to look at his team members. “But she really liked finally meeting all of you. Even you, Miguel.”

Hobie looked over at Miguel with a slight smirk, watching how Miguel clearly seemed unhappy with this whole situation. But it wasn’t like he could stop Peter at this point. He brought his daughter to work here so why not his wife too? At least for a visit. 

“We’re not going to make a habit out of getting visitors here, understand?” Miguel spoke in a stern tone. 

“I think we should do quite the opposite. Get more visitors”, Peter grinned, now finally turning to Hobie. “I mean you haven’t brought anyone over yet. You got a MJ or Gwen?”

Hobie let out a scoff. Most people seemed to be having a MJ, or even a Gwen, even if that one seemed to be working out less. He still shook his head. “No MJ or Gwen. I have a (y/n).”

Miles now also moved closer. “(y/n)? Who’s that?”

Apparently this was a community meeting now since Gwen sat down with them too. “Are we talking about (y/n)? He’s Hobie’s boyfriend. The absolute coolest really. We played the drums together one time and–”

“You got a boyfriend? How didn’t we know that before?”

Hobie shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”

“You gotta invite him.”

“Didn’t you just hear how I told you that there shouldn’t be more visitors.” Miguel clearly looked annoyed with his colleagues.

“Well now I really have to get him.”, Hobie smirked.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You walked into the compound looking around, dozens of spider-people walking around everywhere. “You really didn’t overdo it, Hobie” you grin, while walking next to him. 

“When have I ever overdone anything, love?”, he smirked at you. “We’re almost there.”

“Gwen’s there too?”

“Gwen, Miles, Peter, Miguel, Pavitr probably. They have all been excited. Well most of them. I don’t think Miguel ever gets excited.”, he looked over when he realised you were slowing down a bit. “You don’t gotta be nervous. They’ll love you. And if they don’t it’s their loss”

You nodded, but still grabbed his hand before you two entered the room together. It was almost a comfort to have him this close. And it was almost a comfort that he didn’t seem to mind. He never said anything about it, he didn’t judge you for anything. 

The only person you recognized in the room was Gwen who immediately ran over to you. 

“(y/n)! Good to see you!”, she grinned, giving you a classic fistbump. “Come on. You gotta meet the rest”, she said, pulling you along.

“Hey Gwen. Try not to steal my boyfriend.” Hobie just chuckled, just walking after you two. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to you stealing everyones attention wherever you went, even if you didn’t mean to. He couldn’t quite blame anyone for being fascinated by you either. 

Every day he looked at you, he fell in love all over again. You once asked him if he didn’t get tired of that one point but he had just shaken his head before saying ‘How could I ever get tired of you?’

And now all of that proved itself true again. You, Pavitr, Gwen and Miles had hunched over in a corner, snickering about something for the first part of your meeting. He was glad you got along with everyone so quickly.

With Peter it was easy too, even if the amount of Baby pictures he tried to show you was almost concerning. You handled it well though. And then it was time for the big boss fight. Miguel, who had menacingly stood in the corner the whole time, watching closely so you didn’t touch anything.

“If you manage to keep him under control I don’t have anything against you being here from time to time.”, Miguel simply said.

“I don’t keep him under control. No one can do that, trust me.”, you grinned, looking over at your boyfriend. Sure he was chaotic, constantly getting the both of you in trouble but honestly? “I wouldn’t have it any other way”, you lightly patted Miguel’s shoulder before moving back to Hobie. 

“Already done with meeting everyone?”

“You told me there was a cafeteria.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear.”

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter seventeen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | canon typical death, violence, mentions of self harm, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of suicide | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus snow is now a peacekeeper.

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 i wrote this at four am, please forgive me if it's not good, give me your feedback!! And uhm.. i am gonna pull an all nighter, coz if i sleep now i won't be able to wake up in time tmr, wish me luck!!

Beta read by 🩶 @nowitsmissing 🩶

masterlist | navigation | series taglist

Coriolanus was on the train. He had nothing but mere minutes to pack his belongings and say goodbye to his life in the Capitol. Tigris was in tears. And he knew the hug he gave grandma’am would be the last he ever received from her. Peacekeepers have to serve for twenty years after all.

He was on his way to district twelve. Not once had you come to visit him. He would lie to himself if he said he thought you would be at the train station. He expected an explanation. He was ready to accept lies. But no one was waiting for him. He was all alone.

Snow has lost his previous blonde curls as all officers had to have a buzzcut. He also had been sprayed with extremely cold water before he was given the blue uniform of peacekeepers. Coriolanus had gone over a small handbook and he realized hierarchy is everything. There are ways to raise rank but what's the point of it all?

What's the point?

He will never be president.

The Snow name will fall.

He will never have you.

He should just end it all.

That's when the door to his train cabin opens. The person who enters is completely unsuspected. Sejanus Plinth. His… friend.

Sejanus sits before him. Coriolanus doesn't even greet him. He's shocked. He blurts out, “Before you came, I was thinking about the merits of suicide.”

Sejanus replied with a chuckle, “Don't give them the satisfaction, Coryo.”

Coriolanus nods. He won't. He will make it out somehow.

“Why are you here?”

“I volunteered,” Sejanus said proudly, “as a medic. I will make a real difference like you said I can.”

Coriolanus wants to roll his eyes but doesn't. He likes the company he has right now, it's better than nothing. He smiles, all nice and fake. “Of course, Sejanus. You'll also meet your songbird.”

Sejanus Plinth blushed, “That too.”

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The First Week.

Ma Plinth sends letters regularly to Sejanus. She also sends him various goods including pastries that Sejanus shares with him. He hates it. Coriolanus still finishes his share of the sweet as it's so rare to find in the districts.

They don't have a day off yet. Sejanus hasn't found Lucy Gray. He's worried. Coriolanus speaks false words to put the poor boy at ease. It works more often than not.

The training is hard but Coryo excels. He's noticed by several of the recruits. They're friendly. He doesn't reveal that he's from the Capitol, nor does Sejanus Plinth. The gifts from his Ma are kept a secret.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The First Month.

Coriolanus Snow trains more and more. He trains harder than everyone. Snow eats well. He has more muscles than he had in the academy. Coryo could beat several people in combat now. He had gained the respect of his peers.

He was angry.

That’s the only reason he trained so much. Because if he thinks too much, he won't be able to live. He checks his mail every day. He gets them weekly from Tigris. It doesn't say much except the fact they're doing well.

Coryo rarely writes her back.

He yelled at Sejanus today.

It's the first time he ever yelled at the boy. Sejanus looks like he is about to cry and Coriolanus doesn't know what to do.

Coriolanus Snow is mad at you. And you aren't here to take the burn.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Second Month.

Coriolanus caves in. He writes. He writes and writes dozens of letters addressed to you. It's about the smallest thing. How heavy the gun was for him to carry in the beginning and how it is now. How the air is fresh in some parts of the district and horrible near the factories. How bright the sun is. How pretty the flowers are. He speaks about the culture he thought district people could never have. He speaks about the people who are… kind. Different than he thought so.

Coriolanus doesn't send them to you.

However, Sejanus Plinth does.

Sej is sure you'll reply.

You don't.

He stops writing the letters.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Second Month; Second Week

He begs onto the paper. So much ink is wasted.

Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please.

SAY SOMETHING BACK

He scrawls the words roughly onto the letter over and over again. Tears falling from his eyes and ruining the ink. It makes some of the words ineligible. He doesn't care. You'll get it.

You get him.

Out of all the people, why did you abandon him like this?

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Second Month; Fourth Week

Snow doesn't get a reply. It doesn't matter.

Whatever healing his soulmate scar had gone through had reversed. It was the same ugly scar now. It didn't matter. Nothing does.

Sejanus says he's colder now. Angrier. He has a temper. Coriolanus doesn't care.

Sejanus Plinth forces Coryo to enjoy his day off. He drags him to The Hob, the bar in District Twelve. He sees Lucy Gray dancing and singing around. He meets with the Covey. He laughs for the first time in a while.

The same night he kisses someone. He doesn't remember who. He hates it. It felt like spiders crawling on his skin. He vomits outside of the bar. Sejanus is concerned. Coriolanus Snow quietly cries himself to sleep that night.

He doesn't touch his soulmate's scar for comfort anymore. He wishes he could cut all the skin off from his wrist where the mark was.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Third Month; First Week

When he comes back to the Capitol, he will. He will kill you. He will ruin you like you ruined him. The next time you meet Coriolanus Snow you aren't coming out alive.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Third Month; Fourth Week

Coryo can imagine his life here. With Sejanus and the Covey. Lucy Gray quickly becomes his friend (somewhat). Maude Ivory, her younger cousin, is sweet and considers Coryo like a brother figure.

It means a lot to him.

The music they play. The cabin in the woods. The cool lake is hidden in the forest. It's nice. A life worth having (he's lying to himself).

He hates the heat.

He misses the Capitol.

He misses you. Though he will never admit it.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Fourth Month; First Week.

Coryo finds out what the hanging tree is named after. It's a tree used for hanging the rebels. And some rebels were caught recently. Their names were called out by the captain. And they were sentenced to death.

Coriolanus had to stand up straight and keep a poker face as they were punished. A girl calls out the unfairness of it all. Pleads that they were doing nothing wrong. Snow wants to scoff. The rebels tried to escape, flee to the north, away from the safety that Panem offered. That's betrayal in Coriolanus' book.

The girl is taken away as a rebel as well.

As it should be.

Dumb district girl.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The Fourth Month; Third Week.

A few officials have come from the Capitol to district twelve on a mission nobody knows anything about. Coryo hears rumors about it being about district thirteen and he's reminded of you. He doesn't pay much attention to it as they were just baseless rumors. District thirteen ceased to exist and his family had to face the consequences because of it.

Commander Hoff gathers every peacekeeper in the Nauen radio station. Hoff begins with a speech, “Today I call you here to let you know about the prestigious guests staying in District twelve for the time being. It is suffice to say that they expect the best from you as one of you will be assigned to be each of their bodyguard for their safety. They're from the Capitol, remember their lives matter more than yours. Do not let me down.”

Commander Hoff calls out names one by one and the peacekeeper is assigned to the person. He calls out your name. Coriolanus freezes, perhaps he heard wrong. He looks around onto the stage where the officials are and sees you for the first time in months.

Fuck. You're so beautiful.

He fists his hands. He bites the inside of his cheeks. It takes him everything not to descend into madness.

“...is assigned to Coriolanus Snow.”

You're under him now.

Good luck.

Next Part

[miss-musings]

"You Weren't Loyal To Me": How Crosshair's Brothers Absolutely Failed Him in "The Bad Batch" Season 1

I know I'm not the first person to make these arguments, but after recently rewatching "The Bad Batch" Season 1, I feel compelled to play Devil's Advocate and assert that Crosshair's brothers absolutely failed him in Season 1.

Now, don't mistake me. I don't believe Crosshair was 100% in the right. Once he regained his free will -- whether he actually removed his inhibitor chip, or whether his injury on Bracca deactivated it or lessened its impacts -- he definitely should've left the Empire the first chance he had.

I imagine he was trying to make the best of a bad situation, but I don't see why he would stay with an organization hijacked his mind and ordered him to kill his family, civilians and other people who were trying to do the right thing.

But, I don't think his brothers -- I'm excluding Omega because she's a child and was following everyone else's lead -- are 100% in the right either.

I believe Crosshair's brothers basically abandoned him.

CROSSHAIR'S GREAT INSECURITY?

Now, I understand that they didn't initially plan to abandon Crosshair. But, once they knew he was being mind-controlled and especially once they knew how to undo its effects, they never even considered going back for him.

We never see them debate trying to save Crosshair. They don't discuss whether it's feasible, whether it's worth the risk, how they would even attempt it, etc.

I think this was a much-needed moment that we never get to see. In fact, as others have pointed out, we don't really get much discussion about Crosshair at all.

He's their brother. He's been by their side from infancy through their time as cadets through dozens of missions. Why aren't they more upset about him turning against them? Or being mind-controlled by the Empire?

They seem so blasé about it. Like it's more of an inconvenience than a tragedy, especially by 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." Like "Ope, Crosshair's here. I bet he's gonna try to kill us again."

As I'll discuss more later, Hunter gets captured on Daro, and Omega loses her frickin' mind. Even Echo, Wrecker and Tech seemed distressed too, even if the show didn't focus on their reactions as much.

But, Crosshair's mind and body get hijacked by the Empire, and nobody seems to give a shit.

No wonder why Crosshair felt so betrayed and said everything he does in 1.15 and 1.16. It probably confirmed something he always felt, or always feared:

That he was the odd man out in his squad -- the last to be included and the first to be excluded.

That they never cared about him as much as he cared about them.

Based on experiences in my own life, with friends and coworkers, I do wonder if Crosshair was always insecure about his standing within the group. This makes sense given that he's likely the youngest of the four original brothers, and that as a sniper, he isn't always in the middle of the action like they are. His personality doesn't really help either, but his brothers seem to be able to navigate it just fine in their "The Clone Wars" Season 7 arc.

Maybe this is partly why he seemed OK with Echo joining the squad at the end of TCW arc: because he felt like Echo would become the new 'odd man' considering that he didn't grow up with the Bad Batch and wouldn't know Crosshair's brothers like he does.

It's been a while since I watched TCW Season 7, so maybe I'm wrong.

But, I definitely think this is partly why he resents Omega so much in Season 1:

The Bad Batch -- mainly Hunter -- decided to risk their lives and their freedom to go back to Kamino for Omega. She might've been their "little sister," but they'd known her all of one day and Hunter still decided it was worth going back for her.

Yet they never went back for him.

Hell, as far as we the audience know, they never even considered it.

I'm not saying it would have been easy or risk-free. They also now have Omega in their care, and trying to extract Crosshair from Imperial custody while all parties involved would be trying to kill or capture them isn't an easy undertaking.

But, as I'll talk about more later, these guys do rescue and extraction missions all the time. They put their lives on the line for complete strangers several times in Season 1 to save them from Imperial custody, slavery, etc.

And I'm not saying they were wrong to do those things. It was objectively good that the Bad Batch saved the people they did.

But, I can absolutely understand why Crosshair would be infuriated that his brothers take on all these missions to help complete strangers but never bother to help him...

ANALYZING THE BATCH'S DECISIONS BASED ON THE SEASON 1 TIMELINE

I understand that, before he confronts them in the hangar in 1.01 "Aftermath," that they were planning to go back for him. And that they were forced to leave him behind because he was literally gunning for them. And -- as far as his brothers knew -- he was doing it of his own free will.

However, in 1.02 "Cut and Run," Omega tells them about the inhibitor chips, implying that that's how Crosshair is being controlled.

Then in 1.03 "The Replacements," we see that Tech is building a device to locate their inhibitor chips, and Omega tries to tell the Batch and specifically emphasizes to Hunter that Crosshair has no control over his actions. Hunter admits that he's angry at himself for leaving Crosshair behind, and Omega reassures him that they'll get him back someday.

So, it seems like -- at least in Omega's eyes -- the Batch was planning to save Crosshair at some point. And, Hunter at minimum feels guilty for leaving Crosshair on Kamino, even though they didn't really have much of a choice at the time.

However, the Batch gets sidetracked in 1.04 and 1.05. First, they need supplies; then bounty hunters are after Omega; then they need intel on who's after her and why.

Then, by the events of 1.07 "Battle Scars," we see that they've fallen into a routine of doing jobs for Cid. It's safe to assume they've done -- or at least attempted -- a dozen jobs for her at this point, based on Wrecker and Omega's 20 orders of Mantell Mix.

And then Rex shows up and tells them point-blank that the clones can't fight the inhibitor chip's effects, re-emphasizing Omega's earlier point that Crosshair had no control over his actions.

The Batch then experiences this firsthand with Wrecker, whose chip activates before they can extract it. We see that, even with Wrecker fighting the chip's effects with all his might, he endangers his brothers and was *this* close to killing Omega, before Rex stunned him.

Now, we have confirmation based on both Rex and Wrecker's experiences that removing an active chip restores a clone's free will.

Thus, by the end of 1.07 "Battle Scars," the Batch definitively knows:

Crosshair is being controlled by an inhibitor chip and is being forced to do the Empire's bidding;

How to remove an inhibitor chip; and

That removing a clone's active inhibitor chip will restore his free will

And yet, despite all this knowledge, the only effort they make to save Crosshair is to tell him about the inhibitor chip.

They don't attempt or even discuss possibly stunning him on the artillery deck and taking him with them.

But, admittedly, this isn't the best time to attempt a rescue, as they're outnumbered and essentially trapped aboard the Jedi Cruiser. And then Omega gets captured by Cad Bane and Hunter gets shot, and the others are desperately trying to get off Bracca before Crosshair & co. shoot them down. Fine. Getting off Bracca safely and then trying to find Omega should be their priority.

But, once they recover Omega on Bora Vio, and their lives aren't in immediate danger anymore... this would've been the perfect time to at least debate going back for Crosshair.

Again, they have all the information needed at this point.

As for how they find him, well, I'm sure they could get the information somehow. Or they could just cause a stir somewhere so he'd show up to arrest them again, like he did on Bracca.

But, no, they just continue doing jobs for Cid in 1.10-1.13. They don't bring him up at all until they see him on Ryloth in 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth," and again, the tone is like, "Well, Crosshair is here. That's annoying."

If not being able to locate him was the only reason they didn't try to save him after 1.08/1.09, that argument doesn't apply to 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." He's there. They know he's there. They're already there doing an extraction job anyway... why don't they just grab him too???

Yes, there would be additional risks, but YOUR BROTHER HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY THE EMPIRE AND FORCED TO DO ITS BIDDING, AND YOU DON'T SEEM TO GIVE A SHIT!!!

Which brings us nicely to:

THE DOUBLE STANDARD

Throughout Season 1, but especially in the latter half, we see The Batch putting themselves in harm's way for complete strangers, or at most, friends-of-friends.

They rescue Muchi the Rancor and other people from enslavers; they extract the former Separatist Senator from Raxus; they extract the Syndullas from Ryloth; they break Gregor out of the Imperial base on Daro.

In the latter three cases, the Batch went to Imperial-occupied planets and an Imperial base, despite all the risks involved. And, especially when they saved Gregor, they had very little information going in and basically just winged the entire thing.

It just feels like, when you look at all these cases, any argument the Batch could make for not saving Crosshair just falls apart.

"We didn't know where he was." He was on Ryloth -- grab him then.

"We didn't have enough information." You didn't on Daro, and you still snuck into a heavily fortified Imperial base to rescue Gregor.

"Everyone there would've been trying to kill us." You literally extract/rescue people from Imperial forces for a living...

"It would've endangered Omega." Well, buddy, have I got a story for you...

You see, when Hunter falls on Daro and gets captured, the Batch still comes to his rescue despite knowing it's a trap AND THEY BRING OMEGA WITH THEM!!!

Every excuse they could've made for not saving Crosshair sooner is gone. The Batch will literally run into a trap for Hunter, and they constantly throw themselves into danger to save Omega, but they never do the same for Crosshair.

It really feels like such a double standard.

They seem to care about everyone BUT him.

Plus, sadly, there's one more parallel I can draw. One more instance where the Bad Batch put themselves in harm's way to save a fellow clone who was being mind-controlled by their enemies in an attempt to kill them...

Echo.

Yes, remember all the way back in TCW Season 7, when we find out that Echo is the one behind the algorithm that's giving the Separatists an advantage in all these battles?

Even though Rex thought Echo was dead, the minute he suspects Echo's still alive, he goes after him. He even punches Crosshair over it, after Crosshair bullies Rex for leaving Echo for dead at the Citadel.

One of the "regs" went back for his brother despite knowing he was being mind-controlled by the enemy and forced to attack them.

Rex, Anakin and the Bad Batch save Echo from a terrible fate. They extract him from the Separatists, restore his free will and essentially give him his life back.

Yet, when the exact same thing happens to one of their own, the Batch don't even consider going back for Crosshair the way Rex went back for Echo -- hell, the way they went in for Echo too, even though they didn't know him!!

SOME CONSIDERATIONS

I will give the Batch this: once Crosshair confronts them on Kamino and Hunter stuns him, Hunter decides not to leave Crosshair behind this time. And that was even after Crosshair refused to say when he had his chip removed. So, for all they know, he might've been acting of his own free will when he tried to kill them on Bracca.

While taking Crosshair with them at the end of 1.15 was a step in the right direction, I don't think it was enough to make up for everything they failed to do.

And, while he doesn't specify exactly what, Hunter later admits to Crosshair in 3.05 "The Return" that he has regrets too. And considering the context and the timeframe they're talking about, it's possible Hunter regrets not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all, among other mistakes he's made. (Story for another time.)

I'll also give some consideration to Wrecker, who was the only one of the brothers who said he actively missed Crosshair in 1.03 "The Replacements." Tech mentions Crosshair very flippantly a few times, and Echo doesn't really mention him at all.

(EDIT: Looking back now, Echo *not* talking about Crosshair is such a weird choice. Shouldn’t he of all people know what it’s like to be mind-controlled? To be weaponized by your enemy and forced to kill your loved ones?)

(ANOTHER EDIT: I was rewatching 1.14 “War-Mantle” today and this line stood out to me:

Echo: If there’s a chance that trooper is being held against his will, we have to try to get him out.

I realize that being imprisoned is different than being mind-controlled and actively hunting down you down, but it’s still weird that Echo of all people doesn’t seem to give a flying eff about Crosshair’s situation while practically begging Hunter to rescue a clone they’ve never met.🧐)

Obviously, we'll never know for certain, but I do wonder how Crosshair would've reacted if his brothers had rescued him and removed his chip at some point. Would he have stayed with them? Would he have wanted to rejoin the Empire voluntarily?

Considering he (supposedly) had his chip removed and still stayed with the Empire willingly in-universe, it's possible he might've wanted to do the same thing in an AU where his brothers rescued him.

He definitely despised that they were fugitives and "scavenging like rats," while he had authority, respect and purpose as a soldier of the Empire.

But, I think a large component -- although not the only one -- of why he stays with the Empire is that he felt like his brothers abandoned him. He brings this up several times in 1.15 and 1.16, and the way he does indicates this is a major sore spot for him.

We see in 1.01 "Aftermath" that the chip enhancement procedure is painful. He scrunches his face, flexes his hand and squirms around in the chamber. Plus, the machine itself looks similar to the Mind Flayer from other "Star Wars" properties.

Crosshair was literally being tortured by the Empire. Maybe he doesn't recall that once the procedure's done, but we see him getting his chip enhanced in both 1.01 and 1.03, and it's possible it was enhanced even more times off-screen.

I cannot stress this enough: the Empire basically took Crosshair prisoner, tortured him and hijacked his free will.

And his brothers essentially did nothing to save him.

It would be one thing if his brothers were civilians like you and me, and didn't know the first thing about how to infiltrate an Imperial compound or how to navigate a firefight despite being outnumbered.

But, that doesn't apply to The Bad Batch. That's literally their bread-and-butter.

And Crosshair -- especially once he seems to regain his free will between the Bracca and Ryloth arcs -- watched his brothers risk their lives to save complete strangers while doing nothing for him.

I would've been livid too.

Not to sound like Tech, but while I don't agree with Crosshair's decision, I can understand why he decided to stay on Kamino rather than go with them at the end of 1.16. His brothers offered him no real comfort and no real apology, and I think he desperately wanted to hear that, especially from Hunter.

I know after everything that's happened -- especially Crosshair refusing to say when he had his chip removed -- that it would've been hard to admit their mistakes. But, Crosshair wanted to hear something beyond: "You can come with us if you want. And if you don't, we don't have to be enemies."

The closest thing to comfort any of them offer is Omega affirming that, despite everything, she still cared about him. This seems to be the only thing that really effects him, that causes him to doubt his decision, that causes him to show any kind of emotion beyond anger.

I legitimately believe that if someone had talked to Crosshair one-on-one for like five minutes, and really showed how much they still cared about him and always did, that he would've rejoined them.

Granted, it's really hard to tell.

Crosshair has, as Tech said, always been severe and unyielding. Plus, he really suffers from this "in for a penny, in for a pound" kind of mindset, which is partly why he stays with the Empire for so long even after regaining his free will.

But the fact that all his brothers leave him on Kamino again so effortlessly, so easily is just tragic. No final goodbye. No hug. No nothing.

For all any of them know, this could be the last time they ever see each other. (And, for Tech and Crosshair, it was.)

I know it wouldn't have been easy after everything that's happened, but for crying out loud, I just wanted them to try.

And I imagine Crosshair did too.

IN CONCLUSION

Honestly, I think the TBB writers and producers purposely never gave us a scene of The Batch debating whether to go after Crosshair, or a scene of them outlining to us the audience why it wasn't possible even though they wanted to.

I think the creative team wanted us to sympathize with Crosshair when he says "You weren't loyal to me," while also arguably giving our protagonists a weakness to overcome later.

This really seems like the case if we look at Season 2.

Once the Batch finds out Crosshair's being detained by the Empire's Advanced Science Division in 2.14 "Tipping Point," they immediately start discussing whether and why they should try to save him, even after everything that happened between them in S1.

On top of that, this time they actually decide to do whatever it takes to get him back, despite limited intel and the imminent danger behind such an undertaking.

I think the Batch genuinely learned from their mistakes in Season 1 and, as Hunter maybe alludes to in 3.05 "The Return," regretted not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all after the Empire started controlling him.

I'll admit: I think when I first watched Season 1, I was basically in the Batch's corner. Crosshair was gunning for them at every opportunity, and Omega's well-being quickly became their priority (understandably so).

But, after rewatching Season 1 -- especially now that the show is over and we see how everyone's arcs play out -- it really hits me just how much Crosshair's brothers failed him in Season 1.

Again, I'm not saying Crosshair didn't make mistakes too. He definitely did.

But Crosshair's brothers failed him first.

AN ADDENDUM

(EDIT/UPDATE:) Since writing the above, I've stumbled across a few other posts of people making the counterargument, saying they believe Hunter was in the right and don't appreciate the hate he gets for not going back for Crosshair.

People are more than welcome to make that argument. I think that kind of debate just shows how nuanced this show and its characters are, because you can make valid arguments for both sides.

And to clarify, I don't hate Hunter (and the others) for not going back for Crosshair in S1. As Hunter says later in 3.05: "Nobody really understood what was happening back then." It was a chaotic time -- for the galaxy and their family.

In the span of one episode, the Jedi are exterminated; the war ends; the Republic is reorganized into the Empire; the clones' future role in the galaxy is questioned; and when CF99 refuse to kill civilians, they're declared traitors and arrested.

And to top it all off, Crosshair is acting strange AND they find out they have a little sister who's in danger.

So, when Crosshair seemingly betrays them, and they barely escape with their lives, it's understandable that the Batch's first move is just to get their bearings and figure out their next steps.

And, of course, all the dominoes fall from there.

So, while I definitely don't hate him and I understand why they don't go back for Crosshair initially, I am disappointed in Hunter.

If the writers wanted me to be on his side and understand that it was basically impossible to go back for Crosshair, then I needed a scene showing/telling me why they can't. Or I at least needed a scene proving that they care about him, because based on what we actually got in Season 1, I tend to fall on Crosshair's side when he argues his brothers didn't care about him the way they clearly care about Hunter when he's captured.

You can certainly make arguments that, because Crosshair's their brother and he knows all their strategies, strengths, weaknesses, etc., that he's even more dangerous than all the other Imperials they might face. Yes, definitely. I argue that's all the more reason to try to save him.

Yes, there would be risks. But, if you succeed, not only do you lose a very dangerous enemy -- one who knows you inside and out -- but you would (hopefully) regain a teammate.

Imagine you're in Hunter's shoes and your sibling -- or if you don't have one, a really good friend who feels like a sibling -- gets taken captive and mind-controlled by an evil organization. Wouldn't you try your damnedest to get them out? Or at the very least, wouldn't you be sad about their situation?

Rewatching 1.03 "The Replacements," there's an interesting scene that's probably the closest we get to a real discussion about Crosshair -- how they feel about him, whether they miss him, whether he really betrayed them or was being influenced by the chip.

@laughhardrunfastbekindsblog did a great analysis of each character's reaction, which I recommend you read at some point.

I want to take a quick look at it too, starting with the brothers looking at Omega with Crosshair's weapon kit like she just knocked over Grandma's urn or something.

It feels like, for the first time, they're starting to let themselves process what really happened. This is their first real chance to mourn losing their brother.

Tech wonders whether Crosshair's actions were influenced by his inhibitor chip, and Omega basically confirms that theory. Wrecker is excited by the possibility that Crosshair didn't willingly betray them, but Hunter very quickly shuts the conversation down, saying they have other problems to tackle first.

While he's not technically wrong, Hunter pulls out the "raincheck card” too frequently in Season 1. And subsequently, a lot of the topics that come up in conversations keep simmering in the background while the Batch does other things until they're FORCED to confront them.

This scene is the perfect example of that. The Batch didn't mention Crosshair except in passing in 1.02, and it's only when Omega finds his weapon kit that they are FORCED to talk about him. (EDIT: Check out the 3:45 mark of this video on 2.09 “The Crossing” for more examples.)

I get the sense that Hunter's reaction in this scene, plus all the distractions that come up later, is why the others never really bring up Crosshair again, except in passing. It's a sore subject for Hunter, and they all tend to take their cues from him, especially this early in the show. Plus, they're probably still processing their own feelings, so they might not be ready to bring up the topic.

One last thing from 1.03 I want to note is that, later in the episode, Hunter is telling Omega about his and his brothers' enhanced abilities, and he automatically excludes Crosshair from the list.

It really feels like Hunter -- and the rest of the squad by extension -- labeled Crosshair as a lost cause very early on. That it was a given that he was their enemy now and there was no real chance of getting him back (unless he came to his senses on his own like Howzer and other clones later do).

This might be why they're so shocked when he reveals he removed his chip, because they were hoping that once he "woke up" that he would come back to them. Wrecker even says as much to Crosshair in 1.16: "We still would've taken ya."

Ultimately, I think the characters had differing perspectives on who had the responsibility in the situation.

It seems Hunter and the others took a very passive approach. They told Crosshair about the chip when they had the chance, hoped he would "wake up" on his own, and would've accepted him back if he had.

But, Crosshair feels they should've taken a more active approach. He's hurt that they never came back for him, whether to save him or to join him.

(EDIT #2: I realize that by 1.15, at least, Crosshair seems to be arguing that they should’ve come back to join him in the Empire. He might be making that argument, but I’m saying his brothers had a responsibility to try to save him, and in that regard, I believe they failed.)

This is essentially the exchange Hunter and Crosshair have in 1.15:

Crosshair: They don't leave their own behind, most of the time. Hunter: You tried to kill us. We didn't have a choice. Crosshair: Hmm. And I did?

And, as I said before, based on everything we saw in Season 1, I tend to side with Crosshair.

Hunter made mistakes -- never talking about Crosshair and shutting down the others when they did was a big one. He never addressed the elephant in the room until he HAD to, and by then it was basically too late. And, of course, it seems the others took their cues from him.

As the leader, it was his job to -- at some point when they weren't in immediate danger -- introduce the topic and ask the others for their thoughts about Crosshair, especially once they knew how powerful the chip's influence was and once they knew how to remove it.

But, he didn't.

If the writers wanted me to side with Hunter when he says "We didn't have a choice" -- especially given the double standard I discussed earlier -- I don't think they gave me good enough reason to.

However, I think that's ultimately why the writers did what they did.

Both Hunter and Crosshair made enough mistakes in Season 1 that you can argue all day about which one of them failed the other more, which makes the show and characters all the stronger for it. Because neither one is 100% in the right or 100% in the wrong.

I just wanted to play Devil's Advocate, and try to explain why Crosshair felt like he did, and why I believe he was (at least partly) justified.

So, feel free to continue debating it, but I at least believe that Crosshair's brothers failed him first.

[cobragardens]

Every Anglican church has a basin of holy water. It's not, like, in demand as a criminal product. It's not guarded. It's not even really supervised.

It's usually not even kept near the apse. In one Anglican cathedral (Manchester Cathedral) I visited regularly, the basin was kept next to the entrance, and the lapsed Catholic I was with dipped his fingers in and crossed himself with it out of sheer habit because apparently Catholic churches all have holy-water basins next to the entrance so people can do that.

And btw churches aren't even locked during the day. Like, there will always be somebody around in the church who will check in on you at some point, but I don't think you'd have to visit more than half a dozen before you were left alone with a basin of holy water for long enough to scoop some into a water bottle, especially in 1967. A lot of them are big historic monuments and have literal tourists wandering around them unattended.

Even if you decide to go to all the completely needless effort of breaking into a church and stealing it at night, it is a church, and it is 1967. It does not have a security system. There are no cameras. This is not Ethan Hunt breaking into CIA Headquarters. The locksmith could open the door and just...fill up a jar of holy water and leave. I cannot overstate how wildly unnecessary a heist for this substance is.

But! This is also the era of the spy thriller, and it's the year the bullet-hole stickers that were a promotion for the James Bond movie at a petrol station appear on Crowley's car window--

--and he is wearing his Spy Turtleneck.

This means Crowley has spent the last century thinking about how to get his hands on some holy water, and the solution he has generated is not "Offer a random kid £10 to bring me a bottle of water from the holy water basin in the church and tell him I'll give him another £10 if it's dry and wrapped in two towels," no. The Wile E. Coyote answer he has come up with requires a locksmith, a guy called "Spike" to be "the muscles," and Sally "going down on the ropes."

[anobjectshowguy]

I hope people in the OSC (and other fandoms in general) who are ok with or neutral about Kosa realize that not only will we lose a bunch of platforms that allow us to interact with each other (Tumblr, discord, Ao3, Wattpad, Twitter, YouTube, etc) but will also get rid of at least 80-95% of our fandom.

The OSC consists mostly of people between 13-17 who (if Kosa goes through the Senate and Houses of Representatives and gets passed as a law) will most likely no longer have access to YouTube and other social platforms which actively kills almost all the people who read and watch Object Shows!

By visiting and sharing animated shows like II or BFDI those creators make money which gives them the means to keep making their shows and paying their animators, voice actors, writers and so much more. This bill will actively get rid of most of the people who watch these shows which will cause a large loss in support and revenue for these creators and will most likely mean the end for any smaller object show.

Object show comics rely on people sharing them around in fandom spaces since they’re not animated and put on YouTube like animated object shows are. By losing these spaces and the people who support their content these creators will no longer be able to reach a large audience and get the support they need to continue their comics. This means that we will lose a lot of the comics that the OSC has!

Most of the content you see in the OSC is made by minors, which this bill will actively destroy and thus kill this fandom and many others!

So I am begging of you OSC and other communities, Please please please sign petitions, tell your senators and representatives that you don’t want this bill to pass, and tell anyone that you can reach about how this Bill is a violation of privacy and minors' rights! Re-blog anything you see with helpful information about what Kosa is and keep talking about it! We need to tell people about it so that this doesn’t go through the Senate. Remember, the final day is February 26, we don’t have that long!!!

Here’s some helpful resources:

 https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/07/you-can-help-stop-these-bad-internet-bills