#but if you Actually think anyone is going to actually vote for 'the better couple' in a tumblr ship poll

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

Okay I'm sorry but like if ur treating people wanting Soldier and Demo tf2 to bone each other as like. The Reason There Is Lesbophobia And Misogyny In Fandom or whatever ur taking that poll thing way too seriously. Also "xyz character tournament" polls, regardless of how they present themselves, are always going to be "vote for the thing you like more" contests. No one is Ever going to actually read the "propaganda" for the "other side" and vote based on who "fits the criteria the best". It's not "literal canon Real Queer Lesbians vs barely existent loser cringe mlm ship for losers" it's "do you like Steven Universe more or tf2 more". because that's how literally all of these poll things work. I thought we knew this

[astonmartinii]

we don’t play about halloween | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem reader

max doesn’t play about three things: formula one, his cats and his girlfriend’s love for halloween

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 607,344 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: yes we dress up to carve pumpkins, it’s rude if you don’t.

view all comments

user1: gosh they are so cute

user2: did max just dress as himself whenever he’s within 5ft of y/n?

maxverstappen1: i get why the americans don’t play about the statue of liberty

yourusername: i think they should build one of you in zandvoort

maxverstappen1: and they still wouldn’t worship it as much as i worship you

yourusername: i literally light candles in your name and pray for you with you mum, i think i worship you more sorry

maxverstappen1: the ONLY loss i’ll take

user3: i feel lonely year round because of them but it’s SO much worse during halloween

user4: they are the definition of the couple costume they invented it and they PERFECTED it

landonorris: i thought your apartment was a safe space, why did i get harassed over my costume?

yourusername: it was more of the lack of costume? “streamer” does not count

landonorris: who actually dresses up to carve pumpkins?

maxverstappen1: COOL PEOPLE

yourusername: imagine not dressing up and having an awful pumpkin … could never be me

landonorris: STOP BULLYING ME

maxverstappen1: do better then.

user5: obsessed with how peace and love y/n is for the whole year but as soon as someone doesn’t care about halloween it’s fight time

charles_leclerc: remind me to never accept an invite to a halloween event at the verstappen-l/n household - far TOO much stress

yourusername: but you’re like the only one who deserves an invite to next year because the air max costume slayed

maxverstappen1: i might even let you back on it

charles_leclerc: might???

maxverstappen1: follow me on instagram

yourusername: 2019 was so long ago we really need to move on

danielricciardo: you seriously underestimate just how petty these men are

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 894,560 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: halloween is a full family affair

view all comments

user8: JIMMY AND SASSY I CAN'T

user9: yall looking at the croissant and the lobster i'm focusing on AMY AND NICK?

user10: has max even seen this film?

maxverstappen1: nope i just like doing the costumes y/n wants to do

user11: i wish i had enough friends to have like ten billion halloween parties

oscarpiastri: i didn't know what to expect but i did not think i was going to see alex trying to drown george at the apple bobbing station

yourusername: i let them work out their own mess as long as they don't accidentally flood our living room again

oscarpiastri: AGAIN?

maxverstappen1: f1 drivers are just competitive about apple bobbing as they are about driving

alexalbon: in my defence there is a sick trophy for the champ i simply cannot let anyone else win it

user12: they got a trophy made? and girlies are serious about this?

yourusername: custom trophies for apple bobbing, pumpkin carving and best costume

alexalbon: three time apple bobbing champ right here

charles_leclerc: i'm coming for best costume this year

danielricciardo: pumpkin carving was an easy dub last year

maxverstappen1: but no one has out done us for costumes thus far

yourusername: and that's not bias, there is a democratic voting process x

user13: i need to be in this friendship group right now

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, maxverstappen1 and 723,409 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: it's the most wonderful time of the year ! thanks to everyone who came out and making the spooky season special. p.s. shout out to max who found this wig while going through our costume box and insisted on not taking it off the whole set up.

view all comments

user16: NOOOOO WHY IS HALLOWEEN OVER ALREADY

user17: rip to all of us who were hoping for a sexy y/n x max costume

user18: they heard we wanted sexy and gave us ratatouille i hate their asses

oscarpiastri: okay so lando wasn't lying when he said you guys go insane for halloween

yourusername: i fear not. i hope you enjoyed your dip in the pool, we found you in a guest room in my bath robe at 3am

oscarpiastri: oops.

maxverstappen1: you fared better than others on their rookie halloween appearance, just ask lando and charles

landonorris: you told me there was no alcohol in the jelly so it's not my fault i ate the whole bowl and threw up in your shower

yourusername: wow way to blame the victims there lando, you literally blocked the drain

landonorris: MAX SAID THERE WAS NO ALCOHOL

yourusername: it was labelled with the ingredients. you just can't read

landonorris: no comment

yourusername: and charles got so drunk that he decided he would sleep on the couch but got 'lonely' and insisted on cuddling with us

charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!! YOU SAID YOU'D KEEP THAT A SECRET

maxverstappen1: don't worry we thought it was cute

carlossainz55: wait is that why you came as a "cuddle bug" this year?

charles_leclerc: NO

alexalbon: and that must be why he got best costume RIGGORY

yourusername: no riggory here, you and lily as mavis and jonathon were a close second

user19: i won't rest until i have an invite next year.

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 821,309 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: sorting the recycling with your head barely attached is always the worst part of halloween

view all comments

user20: drunk max looks like so much fun

yourusername: i think i might drink my weight in coffee today but i need to see the kitchen floor soon before i lose my mind

user21: ma'am i know you're clinging to life rn but can we know who won what?

alexalbon: ALEX ALBON APPLE BOBBING CHAMP FOUR YEARS IN A ROW

charles_leclerc: i won best costume and it's purely because i'm cute cause NO one there knew about my cuddling escapades last year

landonorris: ugh pretty privilege back at it again

charles_leclerc: jealousy is a disease get well soon

oscarpiastri: my pumpkin ended up winning !! turns out people love a kangaroo in the ghostface mask

maxverstappen1: first rookie to win that title (i am so impressed by the kangaroo)

yourusername: you were actually so good you have to help me with all the decorative ones next year

oscarpiastri: i'm in

user21: but who won the real award - most embarrassing moment?

maxverstappen1: daniel got stuck in the door in his inflatable horse/cowboy costume

danielricciardo: NO esteban dressing as the cheese string man was worse

estebanocon: that's real creativity at least i didn't fall asleep in the bath like carlos

yourusername: not to gang up on carlos but the blanket you took in their is damaged beyond repair and i request a replacement

carlossainz55: fair, but it was me, lando and george in the tub

georgerussell63: fake news @carmenmundt

carmenmundt: i was also at the party babe, it was impressive how you all fit in there

user22: the fact they do all of this and race like two weeks later and the teams just deal with it

maxverstappen1: we've done much worse on race weekends

yourusername: someone didn't have to try and get home after abu dhabi 2021, halloween is nothing compared to that

note: a lil halloween one for you all. i also DO NOT PLAY ABOUT HALLOWEEN. and am currently planning my costume lol. just wanted to get a small one out before all my work comes in tomorrow, much love xx

[chilfucked]

You guys ever think about how terrifying and violating this scene must have been for Chil? (analysis under cut)

I want you to put yourself in Chil’s shoes for a moment. You’re at minimum a head smaller than everyone in your party. The only combat skills you have are long range and mostly support, plus you don’t even have your gear right now. You’re balls deep in the dungeon. You’re starving. You just had a near death experience when your party did NOT have the means to revive you (nothing to replace calories. assuming the mimic beat you). And now the people you’re essentially stuck with are ganging up on you.

I get that this is played as a gag but. This is like. Real fear in his eyes. He’s actually scared. TERRIFIED. And rightfully so.

Here you have:

Senshi: The guy you just met who clearly doesn’t respect you or you autonomy not only suggesting to use your tools against your will, but he’s actively physically restraining you. Something that is known to be very demeaning for his entire race and especially to him.

Marcille: The girl you only met a couple of adventures ago who also kind of doesn’t respect you, like, at ALL who’s just sitting there watching.

And Laios: The ONE GUY HERE that even remotely respects you that you’ve just BARLEY started trusting, who is now betraying that trust by being the one to take your belongings and use them against your will. In front of you. After you told him to stop.

Like. Don’t get me wrong, the cutaway gag to this was funny, but that doesn’t change the actual disdain he’s feeling here. This is someone realizing he’s stuck with people he cannot trust in a situation far too dangerous for him to deal with on his own. There’s no respect for him. His autonomy. His belongings. Nothing. None of what he believed earlier is present. I don’t know if this was a contract breach or not, but it was a personal one for sure. I can only begin to imagine what’s running through his head right now, and how powerless he feels here to the mistreatment by people he doesn’t know and or JUST started warming up to.

Sure, he has a moment to justify it to himself here. Everyone’s tired. Hungry. They didn’t mean any harm by it, and in the end it was better for everyone, right? (Ignoring the fact that they could’ve de-shelled the mimic using Senshi’s wok but that’s neither here nor there I guess.) But deep down he knows that doesn’t really make it right. That doesn’t change the fact it wasn’t handled properly. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s not being respected at all in this decision. Not even being taken into account other than to be removed from the vote entirely.

And, at the end of it, you’re still being demeaned. Still being treated like a child who shouldn’t get a say. Your justified anger just being used against you to show how immature you’re being. The louder you yell to be taken seriously, the less seriously you’re taken.

Sure, everything works out in the end. He’s made some of the best friends he’ll ever have in his whole life, but here? Now? Chilchuck is alone. Isolated from anyone he could go to. Trapped, used, disregarded, and more closed off than he’s been in a very long time. Because he was actually starting to trust the people around him again. And for what? It just happened again.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

switching the positions

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: a collection of micro-fics chronicling the days of a very eventful week in the lives of you and joel miller (inspired by ariana grande's positions)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, unprotected piv, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), 69ing, mutual/guided masturbation, edging, mild exhibitionism, consensual somnophilia, squirting, rimming, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy kink, pregnant sex, panic attacks, mentions of parents, mentions of food

word count: 16.2k

moodboard by my sweet girl @cavillscurls ♡

a/n: whew, my pride and joy, a whole two months in the making. tysm to everyone who voted on the poll, and especially to @dinsdjrn for helping me tie this whole thing together and mya for listening to me yell about this for weeks. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!

SUNDAY

"Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday."

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“She’s not gonna hate you.”

Oh, you know this woman is going to hate you. It’s not that parents don’t like you. On the contrary, you actually get along great with people’s parents. Your friends’, your old roommate’s, your coworkers'—hell, even your own. It’s just that moms, specifically, can smell fear, and Joel’s mom is going to smell the terror wafting off of you from a mile away. 

Not that it’s personal or anything. You’re pretty sure she’d hate anyone dating her baby boy. It’s like, a boy-mom thing. Still doesn’t make you feel any better about your boyfriend’s mom potentially hating you.

“Whose idea was this dinner again?” Because if it was Joel’s, then he can still reschedule or fake an illness or, better yet, call the whole thing off.

“Baby, you know it was hers,” he replies from his spot at the edge of the bed, where he’s been watching you pace the room and throw half the closet on the floor for the past hour. You shoot him an exasperated look.

“But did you have to say yes? Isn’t it kind of early for me to be meeting your mom anyway?” 

He looks at you like you have ten heads, but you ignore him, debating two shirts in the mirror, then deciding they’re both terrible and adding them to the pile on the floor.

“It’s been a year and a half. If we wait any longer, she’ll be meetin’ you at the weddin’,” he sighs, running his hands frustratedly down his face. You pause your closet tornado to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m just sayin’, I think it’d be good for y’all to meet, is all.”

Good for who? Certainly not you. Honestly, this dinner could have serious repercussions for your relationship. It’s entirely possible she could convince him to break up with you after the night’s over. Or that you’re a bad role model and shouldn’t be allowed around Sarah anymore. Your stomach lurches violently at the thought. Then, it hits you—

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair enough—but have we thought about who’s gonna watch Sarah tonight? We can’t just leave her by herself, and I’m sure your mom would totally understand that,” you try to reason but, again, Joel’s not going for it. 

“She’s 14 years old, I think she can handle a couple hours alone,” he deadpans. “Baby, c’mon, it’s not gonna be that bad. Please? Is it really too much to ask for the woman I love to meet my momma?” 

You soften at that. Logically, you know he’s right and it’s not fair for you to keep giving him such a hard time. You’re also pre-judging someone really special to him, and now you feel like the shittiest girlfriend in the world.

“You’re right. I know you’re right—I’m sorry,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. You’re not sure why you’re feeling so insecure about all this. “I just want her to like me, you know?”

He nods, lips quirking into a small smile, and pats his lap. You fall into his arms and he rocks you for a moment, kissing your hair, then your cheek. The anxiety’s starting to subside and you’re grateful for him, your sweet boyfriend who never asks you for anything. Your eyes meet his, and he leans in to kiss you softly, deeply, then pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“I know ya do,” he murmurs, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh. “And she will, alright? Just give her a chance like she’s givin’ you one.” 

So, for Joel, you do. Turns out his mom is lovely and wonderful, just like her son, and now you have a lot to make up for.

MONDAY

"Then make a lotta love on a Monday."

It’s early and yet, somehow, you’re already awake and feeling like it’s going to be a good day. There’s no alarm clocks blaring, no feet stomping up and down the stairs. Just sweet, blissful sunlight, and it feels so good this morning. Warm and wet and, god, right there—please, keep going right there.

You reach out to feel its light against your hands and between your fingers, and it hums, sending sweet vibrations up your arms, all the way down to your thighs. Heat starts to bloom in your belly as the sun rises higher, burning hotter and hotter, and your fingers tense, tugging at its soft rays. 

Everything feels so much wetter now, and there’s no way you’re not sweating right through your shirt and into the sheets. Even your underwear is soaked, your cunt pleasurably slick and dripping as you pant softly into your pillow.

Then, all of it suddenly intensifies and you’re enveloped by a wet, dextrous warmth that circles and circles, dipping into you, fucking into you, and suddenly, you’re so, so close—

And then you’re cumming with a loud sob, hips bucking with every spasm until something broad and strong splays across your stomach and pushes you back down into the sheets. 

It's…you realize it’s Joel. Balmy and beautiful like the morning sun. He groans as you gush into his mouth, lapping up everything you give him, and you’re vaguely aware of the bed shifting under you as he grinds his hips into the mattress for relief. 

“…B-baby? What—what’s going on…,” you slur sleepily, hands tugging harder at his hair as he continues to suckle your clit through the aftershocks. You whine at the oversensitivity, and he pulls off to press one last kiss to your heat before throwing the sheets off behind his head.

His eyes meet yours and, fuck, he looks wrecked. His hair is in complete disarray and his eyes are a little wild…and then there’s the giant tent in his boxers and that delicious wet spot that makes your mouth water. He doesn’t respond—just crawls up your body to crash his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, and all you can taste is yourself when his tongue brushes against yours.

You moan into his mouth as he grinds into your sensitive core, then parts from your lips just long enough to pull your sweat-soaked shirt up and over your head. The cool morning air feels like heaven against your feverish skin and, with the sheets gone, you can feel a cool breeze coming through the open window, amplified by the oscillating fan next to the bed.

Christ, he must be so pent up by now. Your brain is finally starting to clear from its post-sleep fog, and now you’re wondering how long he’s been between your legs, eating you out like you’re the heartiest breakfast he’s ever had in his life. 

But that train of thought is quickly derailed when his lips find a new home around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and circling his tongue around the nub until it hardens. The delicate skin feels especially tender, and you whimper quietly as the roughness of his beard scrapes against you. Your fingers thread back into his hair and you tug, urging him back up so you can feel his mouth on yours again. 

“Joel, fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, and his breath hitches. “Wanna feel you—please.” 

The sensitivity must’ve already subsided because your hips are steadily meeting his and you’re feeling so desperate to have him inside you. His cock feels heavy as he rubs himself against your slick cunt and, while the fabric provides the most incredible friction when it grazes your clit, you want him bare immediately. 

“Now…ngh—now,” you whine, and you’re stunned he still has the patience to tease when he pulls away slightly to smirk down at you.

“Needy girl this morning, ain’t ya?” His voice is thick with sleep and so much desire, and it makes your still locked-down pussy clench painfully. “S’alright, baby, ‘m gonna give it to ya.”

Wrenching his boxers down, he grips under your legs to push both of your knees to your chest before nudging the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. He inches in just the tip and immediately lets out a whoosh of air.

“So fuckin’ tight, Jesus Christ,” he grits through his teeth, working himself in and out of you until he’s buried to the hilt, the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against you just right. He lingers for a brief moment, grinding into you deeply, languidly while you adjust to his girth.

"S'good. Feels good," you murmur, sighing contently. He's brushing that spot he can only reach when he fucks you like this, so you lock your ankles behind his back, silently telling him to stay. But it feels a little selfish, and you can feel how much he's holding back.

"Baby...I gotta move," he pants, trembling with the effort it's taking not to lengthen his thrusts. Pulling out slowly, he presses back into you deep enough to nudge that spot again, and your vision goes hazy. "Promise, I'll take care of ya—"

You moan in unison as you flutter around him, and he takes that as the go-ahead to continue, his cock reappearing wetter and shinier after every stroke. His skin is glistening, too, slick with sweat that runs down his temples and pools where your bodies connect. 

The heat of him is addictive and it's everywhere—blooming in your chest, blazing between your legs, and igniting something fathomless inside you. But somehow, it's still not hot enough. You know he can give you more, your blindingly beautiful sun.

Wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, you squeeze your thighs into his sides to pull him flush against your body, and you can feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest. The steady rhythm matches his thrusts perfectly, but he's groaning so sweetly in your ear that you have a feeling it won't for long.

You belatedly realize how hard you're clenching around him, suddenly so close to tumbling over the edge for the second time this morning, and he redoubles his efforts to follow you.

"L-like that, keep going just like that," you encourage between sharp exhales. "That—that's it."

He braces a hand next to your head on the pillow to stabilize himself, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist, grounding yourself to him. His eyes meet yours fondly before he buries his face into the crook of your neck to do the same, panting heavily against your skin.

Soft, brown curls tickle your cheek, and you turn your head to nose into his hair, breathing him in. He smells earthy like freshly-mown grass and sawdust, and it fills your lungs, surrounding you just when you need it the most. 

You gasp in his air, hips swiveling into his desperately as you chase your release. He's slamming directly into that spot now, pushing your knees back into your chest to reach even deeper, but his thighs are starting to tense.

"'m not gonna last long," he admits breathily, all but folding you in half so he can brush his lips against yours. "S'too good...gonna make me cum so hard."

"Please...please, please." Fuck, you want to feel it. To feel him pulsing inside you, filling you up so good, so much. "Joel, cum—please cum."

So close, you're so close. Your soft sighs have evolved into something louder and higher-pitched. Too loud for this early in the morning, and enough to wake up the entire house if you're not careful.

Joel seals his mouth over yours, swallowing every noise that escapes your lips as he pounds into you with purpose, dragging against your walls, and it's...fuck, you're—

Gushing, sobbing as you cum, and he groans, long and drawn out, immediately following you over the edge. Releasing your legs, he digs his fingers into your hips to hold you in place, keeping his cock buried deep inside you as you milk him dry.

"Fuck me," he exhales shakily, pumping into you twice before pulling out and collapsing on top of you. "Good fuckin' morning."

A breathy laugh bubbles out of your chest, but you immediately cringe at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets. You wedge a hand between your bodies, reaching down to swipe your thumb between your folds and procure a glob that you suck wetly into your mouth. 

"Very good fuckin' morning," you smile cheekily at the look of awe on his face. He shakes his head, chuckling as he wraps you up in his arms and rolls you over onto your sides. His chest expands into you with a massive yawn, and you're helpless but to mirror him.

"How much time we got until the alarm?" he mutters sleepily, sounding like he could pass out at any moment. You're craning your head back to check when—

The damn thing starts blaring before you can even catch a glimpse of the time. Not that you need to now—it's 6 a.m., your mortal enemy. You glare at the clock like it personally offended you, and Joel only chuckles, pulling you back down with him.

"Snooze it," he murmurs, mouthing damply at your neck, his hands exploring your soft, bare skin. "We still got time."

You barely hear him, already lost in the feeling of his fingers skimming up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He leans over you to hit the button himself before returning to you, kissing you like you've both got all the time in the world.

Neither of you makes it to work on time.

TUESDAY

"Cookin' in the kitchen, and I'm in the bedroom."

The oven is broken. Probably. The stove, too. It’s really not your fault—all you did was turn some knobs and stand there, but for some reason, none of the burners are catching and the oven sure isn’t cooking this chicken like it’s supposed to.

You don't even like chicken but, for some ungodly reason, you've had a wicked craving for it lately. And Joel loves it, so. That explains why you’re in the kitchen, getting side-eyed by a very skeptical 14 year old, trying to cook a nice dinner for her very overworked father. It’s not going well.

“Did you hear it click when you tried turning it on?” Sarah asks patiently, and now it’s your turn to look skeptical.

“Uhh, the knob or the stove?” You eye the appliance dubiously like it’s doing whatever it’s doing on purpose. She laughs pointing to one of the burners.

“So, when you twist the knob, gas comes out of here,” she taps the grating around the burner, “and the clicking creates a spark that ignites the gas so it lights. Then, voila, you’ve got a working stove.”

“Oh,” you reply dumbly, looking back and forth between her and the stove until she finally gets the hint.

“Fine, fine. I can do it,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. And of course, the stupid thing works with zero issues when she does it. You give her a grateful smile before throwing the dirtiest glare you can muster at the oven.

“What do we do about that one? I guess I could try cooking the whole chicken in a big pan, but I can’t guarantee we won’t all die from food poisoning…,” you trail off, starting to feel a little useless. 

It’s not like you’re completely inept in the kitchen. You can use a toaster or a microwave like a damn pro, and even the blender if you’re feeling especially adventurous, but you’ve never made a big meal like this before. Sarah likes to cook when you’re not ordering out, which admittedly is most of the time, so this was supposed to be something special for her, too. 

“It’s the same general concept,” she says, still kind and patient as ever, squatting down to show you a different set of knobs. You observe her for a moment, missing the start of her explanation, because it’s times like these where you can see so much of Joel in her. 

It’s that spark in her eyes when she gets to share bits of her well-earned knowledge. To use her expertise to teach someone something brand new. Joel gets the same look when he’s trying to teach you guitar. His eyes shine when you finally get a chord down, and he downright beams when you can finish an entire bar by yourself. 

You must’ve zoned out for too long because she’s suddenly waving a hand in front of your face, smiling her dad’s sweet smile as she waits for your focus to return to the task at hand. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. What did I miss?” you ask sheepishly. She nods to the oven, already lit and heating up to the required 400 degrees Fahrenheit for cooking baked chicken.

“All good! It’s set for whenever you’ve got the food prepped. You just have to wait for it to hit temperature—it’ll beep when it’s ready,” she says, walking around the kitchen island to grab her backpack. 

…Wait. She’s leaving?

“Woah, wait, where are you going? You can’t leave yet,” you plead, still desperate for her help. “What if I burn the house down?”

“You’re not gonna burn down the house,” she snorts, already at the door tugging on her sneakers. “Just remember to turn off the burners and you’ll be fine. And save me some food!… Unless everyone gets sick, then maybe don’t.”

You shoot her a look of absolute betrayal, and she laughs, opening the front door and waving over her shoulder. 

“See ya later! Good luck, I believe in you!” 

And then she’s gone, and you’re left alone with your misery and a bunch of random ingredients you still have to magically make into a meal.

You slump against the counter, lamenting the loss of your sous chef until the oven beeps, scaring the shit out of you. Oh, great. You’ve barely even started seasoning the chicken. It can’t be that hard, right?

Twenty minutes later, you’re standing in front of a very peppery-looking raw chicken—which is officially disgusting again, you changed your mind—wishing you had just ordered Boston Market and lied about making it yourself. Lesson learned for next time. Like there’ll be a next time.

Well, at least no one can say you didn’t try. You throw a bunch of mixed vegetables into the bottom of the pan like the recipe says and pop it in the oven, setting the timer for 40 minutes and hoping for the best. 

Glancing at the clock above the sink, you realize you’re cutting it close on time. You told Joel to be home by eight, which means he’ll probably actually get here at nine, and it’s already 7:30. Yikes. Time flies when you’re trying not to fuck up a dinner that was doomed from the start.

The last piece of the puzzle is thankfully the easiest. Now, mashed potatoes are definitely something you can make. Boiling water? Piece of cake. Pouring in the instant flakes from the box and adding butter? Done and done.

There’s no way anyone’ll be able to tell you didn’t make them from scratch unless they check the trash and, anyways, the instant stuff is better. You’ll go down with that ship. 

Now for the pièce de résistance: the perfect evening attire. A cute, 50s-era apron you thrifted two weeks ago that’ll go over the teeny, tiny Victoria’s Secret lingerie set you’ve been hiding in the back of the closet.

Joel will probably think it’s hilarious, once he stops drooling. Hopefully you’ll even make it to dinner, otherwise, the stress of this entire afternoon was a totally moot point. But he’ll have to be a good boy and finish his food before he can have dessert—apple pie you definitely didn’t make, and you laid out on his bed like the best fucking treat he’ll ever taste.

You end up with enough time to take the chicken and veggies out of the oven—the meat thermometer tells you it’s cooked through and that’s good enough for you—and stir up the mashed potatoes before you have to head upstairs to get everything else ready. So far, surprisingly, so good. 

You’re in the middle of patting yourself on the back for a job well-done, with time to spare, when you hear the front door open. At eight fucking thirty. This would be the one day Joel gets home early and, by the sounds of dishware and cutlery clinking around downstairs, he’s already discovered your big surprise. 

“Baby, you up there?” he calls up the stairs. “What’s all this?”

Well. Guess it’s showtime. You finish tying the apron around your waist before giving yourself one last once over in the mirror. Everything fits perfectly, just like you knew it would, and the food’s done, for better or worse. So there’s no need to be nervous, right? It’s just Joel. Your Joel. He’d love it no matter what, even if it all ends up being total shit. 

Taking a steadying breath, you head down the stairs, letting your appearance serve as his answer. The apron rubs scratchily against your skin, a reminder of how naked you actually are underneath, and you let your confidence in Joel’s inevitably wanton reaction make you brave.

And he doesn’t disappoint. His eyes rove over you greedily, from the pout of your lips to the tiniest slip of your nipple peeking over your bra, all the way down to the soft, bare skin of your legs. Yeah, no need to be nervous at all.

“Just a little surprise I cooked up,” you smirk a little deviously as you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s on you in a second, hands exploring your body eagerly, impatiently, as he leans in to kiss you, but he’s halted by a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh. Can’t have dessert yet. There’s a whole meal waiting for you—I made your favorite.”

He chuckles, gingerly pressing a kiss to your finger instead before leading you backward into the kitchen. 

“Well, let’s get started then. I’m starvin’,” he says, looking hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. You return his gaze, suddenly feeling ravenous yourself.

“Good. It’s dinner time.”

WEDNESDAY

"Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle."

Spin class sucks.

There’s really no need for the music to be this loud. And it’s bad. They say it’s supposed to amp you up for rigorous exercise, but it’s just giving you a headache.

It’s also about a thousand degrees in here, and you’d be leaving a massive pool of sweat on this seat if you were even allowed to sit on it. The whole concept of spinning makes no sense, and you’re starting to think it’s actually just a dance class on stationary bikes because no one in their right mind would ever ride a bicycle like this. 

It’s embarrassing, for starters, and you’re surrounded by hot people that are way better at it than you are. You didn’t even know you could gyrate on a fucking bike until today, and they all somehow make it look sexy. Like they’re legitimately having a great time. Having fun. 

But not you. The music might honestly be doing you a favor by drowning out your pathetic attempts to breathe. You’re starting to get a little lightheaded and feel like you’re about to be sick.

No workout is worth this. You can’t even pretend to follow the instructor’s directions, because you can barely hear her over the speakers. She probably can't even hear herself, yelling into the void of shitty EDM remixes, and expecting everyone to pick it up. If you’d known this was just some fucked up version of leg day, you would’ve skipped it. 

There's no sneaking out early, either. You took the bus and Joel won’t be here to pick you up for at least another half hour. Honestly, you'd rather walk home and let that be your exercise for the day, but unless you plan on jogging along the highway, you're shit out of luck.

The beat abruptly picks back up, startling you out of your personal pity party, and then everyone's asses are in the air again, hips swiveling so perfectly in sync that it has to be choreographed. You're getting the hang of it now that you're realizing the routine just repeats itself, but it still feels mildly exploitative. 

It doesn't help that your class is starting to draw in a crowd, likely attracted by all of the revealing athletic wear on display. At least you got that memo. Whoever had the bright idea to put a huge glass wall at the back of the room was either a genius or a pervert. Probably both, depending on who you ask.

Once the hardest section of the choreography passes, you look behind you to check the time, praying more than you think has passed, but you're sorely disappointed. And the crowd outside's only gotten bigger.

Don't these assholes have anything better to do than stand there drooling over a spin class? You continue to glare at them over your shoulder through the next part of the song, looking a little ridiculous grinding into your seat as you silently tell them all off.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch one of them off to the side laughing, but when you turn to send an even harsher look in their direction, you realize you recognize him. 

What a dick. If you'd known he was going to be this early, you definitely would've snuck out and waited outside instead of becoming another piece of eye candy for a bunch of gym rats. 

Joel looks a little too pleased with himself, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like he’s enjoying the view as much as the rest of those creeps. Well, if he wants a show, then you’ll give him one. Now that you’ve gotten the movements down, you can put all of your energy into making him wish there wasn’t an entire glass wall separating him from you. 

That one, grueling section of the song loops back around, and this time you put your all into it, arching like you’re supposed to, swiveling your hips into the seat with all of the muscle control you’ve got. Your shorts ride up your ass at the change in movement, probably giving you a wicked camel toe, but you let them. You can only imagine the look on Joel’s face now.

The song starts to wind down, finally coming to a stop, and you lower yourself back onto the seat, panting with the exertion of the past 45 minutes. Turning back around, you notice the crowd has mostly dispersed, save for a few stragglers and Joel, who’s panting almost as hard as you are. 

Your eyes drop to his pants, and you quirk an eyebrow. His breathing’s not the only thing that’s hard. He looks a little wrecked and, suddenly, this whole workout thing feels like it might’ve been worth it after all. 

You hop off the bike and retrieve your duffel from the back of the room, teasingly flicking the glass in front of his face before exiting with the rest of the class.

"Ready to go?" you ask brightly, still feeling high off the endorphin rush. He doesn't respond, looking a little dazed as he watches a droplet of sweat run down your neck, past your collarbone, and right between your breasts. "You doing alright there, bud?"

You laugh, enjoying your revenge a little too much, reveling in the way his jaw tenses and the muscles in his neck twitch angrily. It’s about to be a very interesting ride home—or it would’ve been if you’d made it that far. 

On the way out, you pass an out-of-order men’s room, and he yanks you inside, locking the door behind you.

It's a little surprising he's this pent up after the night you had, especially with the sheer amount of sex you’ve been having lately—not that you're complaining. But what's even more surprising is that he's choosing right now to rectify it, basically in public where anyone could overhear or walk in on you. It's...really out of character for him. You thought he'd at least make it to the car.

“Joel, what the—,” you yelp as he lifts you up by the waist to settle you on the edge of a sink. It's clear his patience has completely run out because, within seconds, he's dropping to his knees, burying his face in your heat. "—fuck."

Your legs immediately try to close around his head, but he forces them back open with enough strength to overextend your already abused hamstrings. It shouldn't feel as good as it does, but the pain, combined with his blunt nails biting into your thighs, sends delicious jolts right to your core. 

You exhale shakily, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a damp patch into your shorts, just slightly lower than where you need him. Your hips buck, urging him higher, but he doesn't allow that either, shoving them back down onto the hard porcelain beneath you.

Should've known it wouldn't be that easy. He's handling you aggressively, rougher than you would've expected, and that's when you realize he's mad.

"Bet ya thought that was real funny, teasin' me like that," he growls into your clothed pussy, licking up the seam to swirl wet circles where your clit throbs under too many layers. "Don't feel very nice, does it?"

His eyes meet yours as he sucks a little harder, and you whimper, tugging at his hair in a silent plea for him to take your shorts off and eat you out the way you both want him to. But he's going to drag this out and you know it. 

Joel loves a little payback and has the patience of a saint unless he's pushed past his limit. To your detriment, you shoved him over that line with the stunt you pulled earlier, so now you'll have to convince him it's in his best interest to let it go.

Switching tactics, you tempt him with what he could have if he just gave in. Your fingers dip beneath your waistband, and you sigh as you slick them up against your folds before dipping them inside. You're already soaked, and so tight, even around two of your own fingers, and you tell him as much.

"No, it doesn't feel nice...but I know something that will," you pump your fingers in and out of yourself, the muted sound of wet squelching reaching your ears. "Hear that?—," you gasp, hips lifting off the sink as you accidentally graze something spongey and sensitive, "—t-that's all for you."

And it works like a charm. Your shorts and underwear are pulled off in a single, hard tug, his tongue fucking into you before you can even fully inhale, and you choke out a strangled moan instead. He eats you out like a man starved, his nose nudging your clit with every dip of his tongue, and it feels so potent, you practically see stars. 

Your combined slick and his saliva are starting to leak over the edge of the sink but he catches every drop, and the way he slurps you up makes your cheeks burn. Joel's a lot of things when he's between your legs—enthusiastic, generous, and a little sloppy, but he's never wasteful. 

Two thick fingers prod at your entrance, and then he's pressing them into you, the slide snug, but easy with how wet you are for him. Finally, finally, you can feel your orgasm building, and you're sent reeling when his tongue fucks into you between his fingers, filling you up—it's...yes, right there—

But he abruptly pulls his mouth away, still not done making you pay.

"Damn right, it's all for me. Ya think those jackasses watching you weren't thinkin' about this?" he growls, his fingers slowing to leisurely stroke your walls as if they weren't about to throw you over the edge a moment ago. "Think they could make you feel this good? Make you cum like I do?"

Your pussy flutters pathetically around him, and the false look of sympathy he gives you makes you want to cry out of sheer frustration.

"Gonna need an answer if you want me to keep goin'," he drawls, still close enough that you can feel his breath, hot against your cunt.

You bite down on your bottom lip, just hard enough to momentarily distract yourself from the aching between your legs so you can respond, but you're taking too long. His fingers have all but stopped, so you panic.

"Fuck those assholes. Fuck all of them," you grit through your teeth. He quirks an eyebrow, marginally picking up the pace of his fingers.

"Fuck 'em, huh? That what you wanna do?" He's teasing you, and even though it's obvious, you fall right into his trap, anyway. Blanching, you shake your head furiously.

"N-no—no, no, no. Just you, only wanna fuck you," you gasp, frantically trying to convince him of something you both already know to be true without a shadow of a doubt. It's honestly impressive that he can work you like this and, even more so, that he's the only one that can.

"S'okay, I know...I know. This right here—," he gives your clit a few kitten licks, the pads of his fingertips rubbing that perfect spot inside you, "—s'mine." 

Then, he's burying his face back between your legs, redoubling his efforts, and it's so fucking sloppy. Wet and hot, and hungry, as if edging you has the same effect on him. 

You feel him groan into you as you start to tighten around his fingers, loud enough that his chest rumbles with it, sending sweet vibrations up your thighs. The sound of his belt jingling, then hitting the floor vaguely makes it past the blood rushing in your ears, but his broad shoulders and head bobbing between your legs are blocking your view.

All you can see or hear is the frantic movement of his arm, his hand working up and down his cock, and the sound of skin slapping on skin. Fuck, that's—so hot, you're so close. So fucking close—

But he's got one last edge left in him. 

You're throbbing so violently that for a second you're terrified he ruined your orgasm, but no, you're still teetering on the cusp, thighs quaking so hard, you can’t believe you haven’t crushed his head between them already. At this point, the smallest touch, even the tiniest puff of air would send you hurtling over.

He's still jerking himself off, sounding delirious as he separates his mouth from you to speak.

"Need to hear ya s-say it...," he pants, and you cry out, angrily reaching down to roughly shove his face back into you, but he resists. Spurred on by your reaction, he only fucks into his fist faster. “Nobody else gets to taste ya like I do…do they? Say it. Say it and I'll…ngh—let you cum,” he moans lowly, possessively. 

Joel sounds completely gone. You never could've imagined dry humping a fucking stationary bike would set him off like this, or that a bunch of dumb muscleheads would make him this jealous. He's so lost in it, in you. 

But the way he's looking up at you right now—it's like he really does need you to do this for him. To tell him that it’s just him, and it’ll only ever be him. It’s the truth. No one else has ever made you feel the way he does, with his mouth and hands, or his heart, and they never will again.

You whine, shaking your head pleadingly, ready to tell him whatever he wants to hear. Anything for him to put his mouth back on you again.

"T-they don't—no one else gets to, but you...only you," you keen as he seals his lips around your clit, all of his fears and insecurities finally soothed. Your head tips back, the feeling of his hot tongue laving over the sensitive bundle of nerves and his thick fingers—three of them, now—dragging against your walls exactly what you need. 

You cum frighteningly quickly, your orgasm so powerful and overwhelming that you start to black out. Your eyes squeeze shut, and then it’s all just pleasure—the tension in all of your limbs slowly bleeds out with every spasm of your cunt, and something wet…so wet, splashes against your inner thighs. 

Joel groans louder than you think you’ve ever heard him, the sound practically punched out of his chest as he licks broader lines up your pussy, sucking and slurping, and what…what is that? Why the fuck are you so wet? He—did Joel cum on you, and you didn’t even notice?

But that’s impossible because now his body’s completely seizing up, the hand around his cock stilling as he spurts thick ropes of cum across the bathroom floor. Or at least that’s the image your brain conjures up, unable to see it for yourself. 

Your vision’s only just beginning to return to you, and you immediately look down to see what actually happened...and fuck. It was you. Joel’s head is resting on your thigh, nuzzling into your soft, very damp skin, and he's looking up at you in awe.

“Shit, baby…,” he pants, chest heaving, cock still twitching in his hand. "Ain't ever seen you do that before."

You blink blearily, lips parting as you take him in. He's a goddamn mess. His face and beard are soaked, and his shirt is splattered with what you can only assume is your release. You fucking squirted? In a dirty gym bathroom?

"What the fuck?" you mumble, still dazed and a little in disbelief at how your first, and probably last, trip to the gym went. You shake your head, clearing up the brain fog enough to quickly process the past two hours, and now you're in shock. "Joel, what the fuck?" you ask again incredulously.

He has the nerve to look sheepish where he's still happily nestled between your legs post-orgasm, and you bop the top of his head with your palm, eyeing him expectantly.

"Wanna explain what all of that was?"

"Look—," he starts, lips quirking down into that little frown you know so well. "If you'd've heard the shit those fuckers were sayin' about ya. Probably would've said worse if I hadn't told 'em to fuck off before they got into some real trouble."

"Wait, you were the reason they all took off? Joel," you laugh because suddenly it all makes sense. 

You just learned the hard way that a grumpy, jealous Joel means getting edged until you black out. Pretty good knowledge to have for future reference, to be honest. Now that you're not sobbing with his head between your legs, it all seems so silly.

"What, did ya expect me to just stand there and let 'em talk about fuckin' my girl right in front of me?"

"I mean, no, but...I dunno, maybe just take the compliment next time and don't threaten a group of scary, muscular men," you chuckle fondly, cupping his wet cheeks in your hands. "Okay? It basically just means you have a hot girlfriend. Congratulations!" 

But he only grumbles in response, still pouting like a child. You bend down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he sighs, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

"What if, when we get home, I show you some of the techniques I learned in my class?" you murmur into his hair. He tilts his head back, eyeing you skeptically.

"Baby, we don't have a stationary bike," he says, brows furrowed in confusion. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes dropping to his lap.

"That's okay. We won't need one."

THURSDAY

"You can't imagine what I'm 'bout to say. You really wanna know? You'll have to wait. (It's a surprise, surprise.)"

Blue, blue, blue. Just do it, just be blue! It's a great color—the best color, maybe even your favorite color.

You keep chanting at it, loudly and in your head, but the plastic stick doesn't seem to appreciate your encouragement. It just stares back at you, blank and unhelpful.

How much longer do the instructions say you have to wait? One to three minutes, that's it? It feels like it's already been two hours, but it's actually only been...30 seconds. What the fuck.

Maybe if you shake it, it'll develop faster. It's basically like a polaroid, right? And Outkast has never steered you wrong, so. You lean over from where you're still sitting on the toilet, pants around your ankles, to test your theory but it's too late.

It already has an answer for you. ...Wait, what? Both of the lines are blue. So...does that mean you're extra not pregnant? You snatch up the pamphlet again, actually reading through the directions this time, and your stomach drops. Pink was never even an option. 

Two blue lines. Pregnant.

You knew this week was going a little too well. 

Those random bouts of nausea, the weird cravings, the fucking breast tenderness. They didn't need to mean anything. They shouldn't have meant anything.

Fuck. Fuck. What are you supposed to do now? You're way too young to have a baby. Well. Okay, that's a massive lie, but still, you're definitely not ready to have one. Or to be…pregnant. You shudder at the thought. 

Swollen ankles, morning sickness, mood swings. You’re already a walking rollercoaster of emotions, and your back hurts from just existing. No, you can’t do this. 

It's not about the finances, either. You and Joel both have steady jobs and could make it work if you wanted to, but do you want to? Will he? He’s not your husband, not even your fiancée, so there’s no reason for him to stick around. It’s not his burden.

There's just too many unanswered questions. And Joel's already someone's dad. He did the whole baby thing by himself and got it right the first around.

Sarah's perfect—fuck, what is Sarah going to think? Stupid, this was so stupid. You thought you were being so careful. Sure, Joel cums inside you basically every time you have sex, but that's totally beside the point. 

You take those dumb little pills at the same time every day, just like you're supposed to. Except…when’s the last time you had a period? Did you even get it last month? The month before? 

Shit, that wedding—when was that wedding? Your coworker’s, the rich one who decided to have a fucking destination wedding in Hawaii a couple months ago. It was decadent. You and Joel were super drunk the entire time and fucked like rabbits for three days straight. 

Fuck.

Don't cry. Do not cry. Joel will probably be back from picking Sarah up from soccer practice any minute, so you need to hold it together. Maybe you just won’t tell them, at least not until you’ve had more time to process everything and decide what you’re going to do.

But, god, you wear your emotions on your sleeve, and even more so on your face. They’ll know something’s off the second they look at you, and you won’t be able to talk yourself out of it. You’ve always been a shit liar. 

Tears start to fall without your permission. You slump slowly to the floor, pants still around your ankles, and curl up into a ball, willing it all to go away—the tiny clump of cells growing inside your belly and the regret of being so careless, of letting yourself get caught up in a serious relationship in the first place. This isn’t something you can just wish away. It’s life-changing and nothing will ever be the same again. Was it really worth it?

No, no. Of course, it was. Snap out of it.

If only it were that easy. Sobs wrack your entire body, and you can barely hear yourself choking on them, unable to hold them in anymore. Your eyes squeeze shut as you desperately try to block out your reality, but it seeps up your nose and into your mouth, salty and unignorable. 

Blood rushes in your ears and you realize belatedly that you’re starting to hyperventilate, but you can’t stop. You’re drawing in too much air all at once and it’s making your vision go fuzzy. It’s all just too much. Anger, sadness, and fear consume you until you’re screaming with it, desperate to expel it from your body any way you can.

So, you don’t hear the front door opening or Joel and Sarah running up the stairs, completely panic-stricken. 

Joel reaches the ensuite bathroom first and all but breaks down the door, but he’s met with the sight of your half-naked body in a heap on the floor. Immediately, he turns to block Sarah from getting in.

“Hey, hey—no,” he says firmly, wrapping her up in his arms to keep her from seeing past him. “You’re not goin’ in there. Ya gotta give us some time, alright?”

She looks up at him, scared and visibly shaken. 

“What if—do you think she’s okay in there? Was she hurt…d-did you see her?” she asks softly, eyes wet. “Can I see her?”

“Not right now, kiddo,” he mumbles, kicking the bathroom door shut behind him before leading her out of his room and into the hallway. “‘m sorry.”

The crestfallen look on Sarah’s face is the last thing he sees before he closes the door on her. But he has to ignore how badly it feels to keep her away from you, at least until he can figure out what the hell is wrong and how he’s going to fix it.

Your cries have quieted since earlier, but not nearly enough to ease Joel's fears. He can still hear you through the door, hiccuping softly, and opens it gently this time, entering slowly as if he's trying not to spook a scared animal.

It doesn't work as well as he'd hoped. Your head shoots up, a small gasp escaping your lips as you dizzily pull your pants back up.  

"Easy there, s'okay. Baby, s'just me, don't worry," he murmurs, dropping to his knees on the floor next to you, but you flinch away. You can only imagine the hurt in his eyes, and the mental image tugs at your heart. "I need ya to tell me what happened. Did ya hurt yourself?"

Yeah, you could say that.

You shake your head, the only thing you're capable of doing in the state you're in. Trying to speak would be useless after all the screaming you just did and you can't bear to look him in the eye.

"Hey, talk to me. If somethin's the matter, I need to know, 'specially if we gotta get you to the hospital," he says, reaching out to touch you. 

His hand grazes your shoulder, and your body jerks so viscerally that you slam your knees into the bottom of the sink. You let out a tiny whimper of pain right as you hear something small and plastic hit the ground next to you. 

Oh, no. Shit. You desperately try to kick the test out of reach, to cover it with your body—anything to keep him from seeing it—but his fingers wrap around it before you get the chance. He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth and you feel your whole world shattering. 

That's it, then. Even just a glance at those two blue lines will have immediately told Joel all he needs to know. Now he'll leave and he'd have every right. This is all your fault.

Your cheeks are wet again, but this time you can't bring yourself to care. Turning away from him, you curl back into a ball, ignoring the angry throbbing in your knees as you wait for him to yell or throw the test, or finally get up and walk out.

But he doesn't. Instead, you hear him delicately set the test back on the sink and then he lays down behind you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back into his chest.

His heartbeat is fast. It's racing against you and, yet, somehow his breathing is still so calm. The calm before the storm, you're sure of it. You tense, anticipation sitting heavily on your chest and lungs, and he can feel it.

His lips press into the back of your neck and even though the action is so tender and so Joel, you still can’t convince yourself that maybe you’ve misjudged this entire situation. Or that you’ve misjudged him.

“Sweetheart,” he sighs, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he isn’t calling you baby anymore. You can’t tell if that’s for your benefit or his. "Tell me what you're thinkin'."

Time feels like it's moving in slow motion. You really don't mean to ignore him…it’s just that you’re not thinking anything. Lying there in his arms, your mind goes blank, giving in to the white noise of his heartbeat syncopating your own fragile rhythm. 

But somehow he seems to understand you completely, filling the silence himself. His voice lulls you into a false sense of security, or…no. No, that’s not right. It’s real. His security, his safety, is real and reliable, proven and palpable.

“Listen to me—I need ya to hear this, alright? I want whatever you want and if ya don’t want this, we’re not doin’ it,” he says firmly, like he means it with every fiber of his being. You do hear him. But your heart and mind are still rebelling, begging you to see their own senseless logic. Joel won’t stop until he convinces them, too.

“But if ya do…if—,” his voice trails off, cracking almost imperceptibly. At least, to anyone else but you. “—if ya wanna do this with me, then ‘m with ya. Every step of the way, ‘m with ya.”

Then, for the first time since those blue lines appeared in your life, you feel peace. And it's all him. He’s given you a choice—one you knew you always had, but never thought to factor him into. You didn’t think you deserved to involve him. But he does. He deserves that choice, too.

The floodgates open and soon you’re sobbing uncontrollably again, but this time it feels cathartic. Like he’s freed you from a prison of your own making. You find your voice, wet and shaky.

“Joel, I’m scared,” you weep, turning in his arms to finally meet his eyes. And there they are. Brown and beautiful and clear, unclouded by fear and regret, and you let them make you brave. For him and your tiny clump of cells. 

“What if I can’t do this? What—I…,” you hiccup through the disjointed thought, “—if I give up…if it’s just too hard...”

“S’why there’s two of us,” he bends down to murmur soothingly into your cheek, lips brushing against the corner of your own. “But ya can’t push me away anymore. If we do this, then we do it together,” and that lances straight through your heart, obliterating all doubt and setting your decision in stone. 

Together. You’re in this together.

“Okay,” you croak, sniffling as he wipes away your tears. You repeat it, clearer this time. “Okay.”

FRIDAY

"You might think I'm crazy, the way I've been cravin'. If I put it quite plainly, just gimme them babies."

Doctors' offices have no business being as scary as they are. Bare and sterile, and not an ounce of color to be found anywhere but those creepy posters of in-depth diagrams of the human body. Gross.

You fight the urge to turn around and head straight back to the truck but, as if he can sense your plan to make a run for it, Joel places both hands on your shoulders and leads you toward the reception desk. 

“C’mon, we got this,” he says quietly in your ear, likely reassuring both of you. “We go in, they tell us you ’n the baby are healthy, then we get out.” 

You grimace. The baby. That’s still so weird. There’s literally a tiny being growing inside you, eating your food, and sitting on your fucking bladder. It’s like that thing in Alien that bursts out of people’s chests.

Great. Well, that’s officially off the list for movie night later, which Joel promised you'd have if you got your check-up without trying to escape. Technically, you’re doing great so far. And it’s an extremely tempting offer. 

Movie nights at the Miller house usually include a trip to 7/11 for popcorn, soda, and a box of your favorite candy. Those annoying cravings you’re just now realizing are because you’re pregnant would be extremely satiated by that. 

You’ll also get to curl up on the couch with Joel all night in a childless house because Sarah's staying at a friend’s. Win-win. But first, you have to make it through this check-up. 

Everything up until you’re inside the actual examination room isn’t actually so bad. The receptionist is nice enough, even though you can tell she deals with a lot of first-time moms by the way she treats you with baby gloves, and the wait time is less than 10 minutes. 

Yeah, you’ve totally got this. Or at least you did until the doctor shows up with an ultrasound machine and lifts your shirt to squeeze that freezing cold goop all over your stomach. You look up at Joel, scared and a little bewildered, and he takes your hand in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. The screen lights up with what you assume is a real-time view of the inside of your belly and, after that, it’s all sort of a blur. 

Six weeks. They tell you that you’re already six weeks pregnant, so you definitely conceived at that dumb wedding. At least you’ve got a story to tell. You’re also entering that fun stage where your nausea’s mostly cleared up, but now you’ll either be super tired or super horny at any given time. 

You try not to laugh when you feel Joel’s hand subtly twitch in yours. Of course, he perks up at that. Honestly, you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t going to enjoy it, too. Immensely.

Then, comes the big one. The entire point of this doctor’s visit, and the reason you and Joel are gripping each other so tight, you’re cutting off the other’s circulation. But it’s good news. Luckily, it's all good news.

Your tiny clump of cells is healthy, you’re healthy, and you can go home now, equipped with all of that very calming knowledge. One day, you’re going to have to stop calling them a clump, but you’ve decided today is not that day.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be so bad,” he teases as you walk out to the truck, still hand-in-hand. 

But his eyes betray his tone. There’s a seriousness to his joy, and you can see it so clearly in the way he’s looking at you like you’ve given him the greatest gift in the world. It makes you feel warm and…important. Loved. He continues, his voice tinged with something a little softer. 

“Thank you…for goin’, I mean. S’good to know that everythin’s alright. That you’re alright.”

You stop next to the car, meeting his gaze with what you hope is the same amount of love and affection you see, and throw your arms around his neck. 

“Thanks for taking me, and just…being here. Like, really being here, not just showing up so you can say you did,” you say earnestly, and he leans down to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you close.

“‘Course, baby. Don't have to thank me for that,” he mumbles against your lips. 

Not ready to separate from him, you deepen the kiss, running your tongue along his bottom lip until he opens for you and licking into his mouth freely. He groans as you press him into the side of the truck, his hands trailing down your sides to grip the plush of your ass through your jeans. 

You can feel him starting to stiffen against your belly and that carnal hunger the doctor warned you about takes over, the need to feel more, more of him overwhelming you. He’s just so solid everywhere. 

Your fingers skim underneath his shirt to feel his stomach flexing beneath your palms, and you roll your hips into his, gasping into his mouth at the friction. You’re so caught up in his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, that you don’t hear the group of people passing by on the other side of the truck.

But Joel does. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, hard as a rock and panting heavily. You whine at the loss, and he twitches against you in response.

“C’mon, baby, I’m not fuckin’ you in a goddamn Planned Parenthood parkin’ lot,” he chuckles, leading you to the passenger’s side of the car. He smacks your ass when you resist, and you shoot him a wounded glare. “Uh-uh, none’a that. ‘m takin’ you home. Owe ya a movie, don’t I?”

You perk up at the mention of his promise from earlier.

“You sure do. And candy, and popcorn, and soda,” you list off, easily distracted by the prospect of shitty junk food. You bounce into the car, shifting the seat to recline as far as it’ll go. “What are we watching?”

“Whatever you want, baby."

Well, he did say he’d give you whatever you wanted. And for a while, it was the movie—you’d even picked out your favorite. But you only manage to get about 20 minutes in before Joel's arm around your shoulder and chest under your cheek become an unignorable distraction. 

Now, you want something else. 

You don't bother teasing or playing coy, not when he’s so solidly pressed against you, just begging to be had. Your body rises and falls with every breath he takes, and it’s so visceral, being close enough to touch and taste him, and yet not doing either. 

His neck looks especially delicious under the faint, fluorescent lighting of the TV, and your lips press wetly into the underside of his jaw, sucking delicately as your tongue darts out to taste him. His breath hitches, but he shows no other signs of being affected at all. 

Taking that as your cue to up the ante, you drop your hand onto his lap to tug at his belt, but he catches you before you can make any progress. You tilt your head back to look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion, but he just smirks, eyes still locked on the TV screen.

"You wanted a movie, didn't ya? Thought ya loved this one," he says teasingly. "You can wait a couple hours—I know ya can."

Yeah, you can, but that doesn't mean you want to. He was so into it in the parking lot, so what happened between then and now? You didn't think he liked this movie that much, but apparently you were mistaken. 

Settling back into his side, you try to shift your focus back to the movie, but then the hand on your shoulder starts to play with your hair. His fingers graze your neck, and you're back to squeezing your thighs together in frustration. 

He has to be doing this on purpose. Riling you up so much that once the movie’s finally over, you’ll be putty in his hands. Well, two can play that game. If he won't let you touch him, then you'll just have to touch yourself.

Your eyes flutter closed as you run your fingers down your belly, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts to drag your fingers up and down your slick folds. God, you didn't realize you were already so wet. You gasp softly as you trail upward toward your clit, but Joel's voice startles you out of your reverie. 

"Should ya be doin' that right now?" 

There's a tinge of warning to his voice, and it burns hot in your veins. You open your eyes slowly and he's finally looking at you, his attention drawn to your fingers still moving under the fabric.

"Well, you weren't gonna. What, are you—," your middle finger brushes against that sensitive bundle of nerves and you bite back a whine, "—you...ngh—gonna stop me?"

The hand that was gently stroking your hair shifts back to firmly grip the back of your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your fingers stutter. He leans in, his voice dangerously low in your ear.

"No, I'll let ya keep goin'. But you're gonna do exactly what I tell ya to, ya got that?" he murmurs, watching as your hips begin to swivel into your own sweet friction. "'n if you're good for me...," he trails off, eyes dropping down to where he's slowly jerking off his hardening cock through his jeans. "...I'll give ya this. We got a deal?"

You want him inside you so badly, you almost say yes before he's even done talking, but then you have a wicked thought. A counteroffer, of sorts.

"I'll take your deal. But—," you start with a devilish smile, and he raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "Only if you touch yourself, too. Want you to fuck your hand like you're fucking me."

"Deal," he says without hesitation.

"Deal," you smirk, removing your hand from your pussy for him to shake, your fingers sticky and glistening. 

He takes your proffered hand but, instead of shaking, he wraps his lips around your slick digits, sucking you off each one and groaning at your taste. What you wouldn't give to have that tongue in your mouth. Or buried in your cunt. Pulling off with a lewd pop, he nods at your lap.

"Take your fuckin' pants off. Now."

Shit, he doesn't have to tell you twice. You quickly shimmy out of your shorts and underwear, and wait for his next instructions. You'll be a good girl for him. The best girl he's ever had and ever will.

"Spread 'em. Show me how wet you are for me," he mumbles, kicking your legs apart. 

You spread them as wide as you can. The cool night breeze filtering in through the open window meets your center, and you're suddenly aware of how much wetter you've gotten since you started. It almost makes your mouth water. You don't think you've ever been this turned on by your own body in your life.

Slick coats your thighs, seeping into the couch, and he looks pleased. You can see he wants to touch you just as badly as you want to touch yourself. Your knee bumps into his thigh and he hooks your leg over his, holding you open. 

"Shit, would'ja look at that," he breathes out in awe. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

Your cunt visibly clenches at the praise and he hisses in a breath through his teeth, resting his hand on your thigh so he can lean over your body. He lingers for a moment like he's admiring you laid out for him like this, but then moves a little closer and spits a thick glob of saliva right onto your clit. 

Your jaw drops, a loud gasp torn from your chest when he grabs your hand, using your fingers to gather it up and swirl it around your swollen nub. Shit, if he keeps going like this, you're going to cum and fast. 

Dropping your head back onto his shoulder, you rock into your fingers, slipping through the mess he's made of your pussy, and your body starts to feel like a rubber band about to snap. 

"Wanna taste you so fuckin' bad. Fuck you on my tongue 'til you're nice 'n ready for me," he growls, pressing your fingers harder onto your clit. "S'that what you want? Wanna cum in my mouth?"

You turn to bury your head into the crook of his neck, nodding frantically as you cry into the soothing warmth of his skin. You're going to cum. Fuck, fuck, you're going to cum. Your eyes start to roll back as you feel it crescendo, and then—

Then, he releases your hand, cruelly and unapologetically. 

"Not yet, baby. We both gotta be patient, don't we?" he teases you again, and your eyes snap open.

What the fuck. No, you're not letting him edge you again. It was fun and all at the gym, but you're way too far gone to be playing games right now. 

And how isn't he a total wreck? Both of his hands are on you, even though that wasn't part of the deal, so he can't be taking care of himself.

Your eyes drop down to his lap, and wow. This man has more willpower than you ever could've imagined. He's so hard, you can see the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband of his pants. And it's leaking everywhere, twitching and angrily dribbling precum all over the fabric. 

He looks...so fucking good like this. Fuck, you want him so bad. But that means getting back on track, and it's obviously on you to make that happen. Clearly, he's more affected by all of this than he made it seem.

"Joel, please, just tell me what to do," you plead. You'll beg if you have to. Whatever it takes for you to finally get what you want.

"Alright, alright," he concedes, taking sympathy on you, likely reaching his limit himself. "'m gonna let you make yourself feel good, baby. Don't'chu worry."

"Great," you grit through your teeth. "Then start by taking your fucking pants off."

He chuckles at his words thrown back at him, but listens, regardless. His boxers and jeans are pulled off in two hard tugs, and his cock bounces against his stomach, thick and wet, and unfairly far from your aching pussy. The hand on your neck moves to gently caress the side of your cheek.

"Gonna start nice 'n slow, ya got that?" he says, biting back a groan as he wraps his fingers around his neglected cock. He starts to pump himself, and more precum leaks out. "Watch me."

But it didn't need to be said. You're already enraptured by the way he strokes himself, slow and steady, swiping his thumb over the head on every upstroke. He's panting softly, trying to keep his hips from jerking up into his fist, but you can see how much effort it's taking not to.

"C'mon, baby. Gimme one finger—your middle finger, all the way in," he commands, his voice as tight as his grip.

You tear your eyes away from him while you run your fingers through your folds, still slick with his saliva and your own desire, and then sink your finger into yourself knuckle by knuckle. It doesn't feel like much, and you both know it, but at least it's something. 

"Now, follow me," he says, watching your hand as intently as you're watching his. 

You rock your finger in and out slowly, just like he said. Because you're his good girl and good girls do what they're told. It’s already a sticky mess, your finger creamier with every thrust, and he groans out his appreciation. 

"Good girl. Add another one. Not too fast, now." 

Finally, you get some real relief. Slipping your index finger in alongside your middle finger, you feel that little bit of stretch you've been aching for and you can't help but whimper.

His lips part, brows furrowing as his hand speeds up. His eyes are locked on where your sopping cunt is sucking in your fingers greedily and, fuck, he's even more of a mess now. Sweat dripping from his temples, chest heaving with the effort of holding himself back. 

So hot. So fucking hot. It's scorching, the way your cunt feels around your fingers as you fuck into yourself a little faster. They're rubbing your walls just right, your palm grazing your clit after every stroke, and his hyper-focused gaze makes it all feel that much better. You want to hear him say it again. For him to tell you how well you’re doing.

"—ngh...i-is this good?" you whine, knowing how pathetic you sound, but forgetting to care.

"Perfect, baby. You're perfect," he rasps, unable to keep his hips from snapping up into his fist as the sweet sounds of your wet squelching reach his ears. "So fuckin' good for me."

Preening hard at his praise, you push a little too deep into yourself and graze something mind-numbing that almost hurts with how good it feels. You cry out, curling your fingers into it again and again as you bury your face back into his neck. His arm tightens around your shoulder and he leans over to press his lips soothingly against your forehead. 

"That's it, baby, just like that. Doin' so well," he groans, lips brushing against your skin. His strokes are frantic now and you know he can’t last much longer. "Need ya to gimme one more. Just one—last one, promise. Then I'll give ya whatever you want."

Nodding quickly, face still cushioned against his shoulder, you add your ring finger, and fucking hell, you’re so full. You stretch your fingers apart, pumping them in and out the best you can, and they drag against that spot—every spot—with how tight you are. But somehow it’s not enough. It’s not Joel’s cock, so it’ll never be enough. 

Everything’s drowned out except for the wet sounds of skin on skin, and Joel’s voice, still just above your brow, talking you through your almost painful pleasure. He’s panting, whispering tender words that you can’t hear so much as feel with those soft, perfect lips.

“…tell me when you’re close, baby. Can’t feel ya, gonna need you to use your words,” he barely chokes out, staving off his orgasm, waiting for you. 

It’s already close, but you’re only teetering, stuck in a constant loop of almost there, and need more. You can’t reach where you need to, but Joel can. So easily and all you have to do is ask. He said he’d give you whatever you wanted.

But you didn’t realize he was already at his limit, and you don’t get the chance to tell him before he’s babbling, delirious with the need to cum.

"'m sorry—fuck, 'm sorry. Need...to—ngh, fuck, need to cum inside you...fill you up...," he moans, and he sounds upset like he can’t help himself, not anymore.

Abruptly, so much quicker than you can fully process, your fingers are yanked out of your cunt and replaced by his cock, and the thrust is so harsh, he hits exactly where you need him to without even trying. The whine building in your chest erupts as a wail as you immediately lock down around him, sending him over the edge with you.

Full. God, how can you feel this full? You’re so unbelievably aware of him cumming inside you and there’s so much, he’s already leaking out of you. And he almost seems angry about it. Your hips are roughly tilted up so he’s fucking down into you, eyes unfocused, and snarling like a wild animal.

And still so mouthy.

“You got no idea how good ya look right now. Fuckin’ glowin’,” he all but slurs, drunk on the idea of keeping his seed inside you. “S’that my baby in you, makin’ ya glow like that?”

"Oh...oh, god, fuck, Joel,” you whimper, your aftershocks still milking him dry. “Christ, y-you trying to knock me up twice?" 

It’s like that alone makes him redouble his efforts. You’ve never seen him like this before, but you like it. Something primal in you wants this as badly as he does.

"Fuck yeah, baby, gonna pump you full'a twins."

Holy shit. You’re not sure if you’re still cumming or if you just came again, but you feel an entirely new rush of pleasure and he hisses out a breath through his teeth like he can feel it. Not long after, sensitivity starts to set in for both of you and he stills, seated deeply inside you, chest heaving and eyes shut tight. 

His hands squeeze where they’ve been aggressively gripping your thighs before he reluctantly pulls out, but he keeps your hips tilted up as he drops to sit between your legs on the cushion below.

“There a reason I can’t lay down like a normal person?” you laugh, wiggling in his grasp. “Joel, come on, put me down. I’m already pregnant.”

“Just gimme a minute,” he mumbles, suddenly sounding so solemn. He turns his head from where it's resting on the side of your knee to kiss your damp skin. “Didn’t know I was knockin’ you up the first time, just…lemme have this, alright?” 

Your eyes soften. How this man can be such a sap after fucking you like that is beyond comprehension, but if he wants this, then you’ll let him have his moment. It’s kind of sweet, anyway.

“Okay,” you reach up to brush your fingertips along his cheek. It's incredible, really, all of the things you see in Joel's eyes right now. That in this single, fleeting gaze, you can see forever. "Put a baby in me.”

SATURDAY

"Can you stay up all night? Fuck me 'til the daylight. 34, 35."

You’re convinced Joel tastes especially good in the mornings. There’s a hint of sweat to his skin, so naturally bitter and heady, maybe even a little tangy. It’s fucking delicious.

And he’s always hard in the morning. His cock is the perfect alarm clock, always reliable and super effective, whether it’s pulsing against your thigh or rutting into your ass. It’s your favorite way to wake up, but there’s usually not enough time to enjoy it to the fullest.

Not with work and Sarah, even Tommy showing up for breakfast unannounced. But it’s Saturday, which means you can keep your lips wrapped around him for as long as you want, make him cum as many times as you want, and taste him to your heart’s content. 

He probably won’t even wake up, at least not right away. Joel sleeps like the dead, especially on the weekends, and it’s been a long week. Even now, as you suck the tip into your wet, very eager mouth and swallow him down halfway, he barely stirs. 

That’s more than okay with you. You’d be happy to lie in bed, head pillowed on his stomach, keeping his cock warm between your lips while you wait. Relishing how fucking good he tastes and how your jaw pleasantly aches as you adjust to accommodate his girth.

But, soon enough, your jaw isn’t the only thing aching. The slick mess you’re making in your underwear right now is getting hard to ignore, but you don’t want to let him go. He’s velvety smooth against your tongue, dribbling salty precum down your throat, and his unconscious body is starting to respond to you more and more with each passing moment. This is your favorite part.

He lets out a soft grunt, twitching into the inside of your cheek, and your efforts become a little more concentrated and a lot more obvious. You try to forget about your soaked underwear and the pleasurable whoosh in your belly in favor of sucking a little harder, letting saliva pool in your mouth as you slurp loudly around the head.

His hips jerk up, surprising you enough to gag you, and that only makes your mouth and pussy wetter, the heat building in your core almost unbearable now. The moan that escapes you sends a drawn-out series of vibrations straight down to his balls that pulls even more noise from him, and your head steadily shifts with the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He's starting to rut into your mouth, whimpering, and yet somehow still asleep, and it makes you feel powerful to have full control over him like this. To command his pleasure without any interruption or intervention, making him fall apart entirely at your mercy. You kind of hope you can get him to cum like this, to be his alarm clock for once. 

Turns out only half of your wish is granted, but you don't realize it until Joel's fingers are threading into your hair and abruptly tugging you off. He's definitely awake now, but he also definitely didn't cum. Bummer. You try sucking him back into your mouth, but he tugs you harder even as his hips chase you. 

"Joel, what—?" you glare up at him, but upon seeing him, you feel a little bad for your reaction. He looks so sleepy, still a little dazed from his unconventional wake-up call, blinking blearily like he's doing his best to stay awake. Your expression softens. 

"Sorry, got a little carried away," you murmur sheepishly. "But, um, you taste really good, so if you wanna go back to sleep, I can just keep—"

You're cut off by a hand trailing down your body, following the curve of your ass to dip inside you. He smears the moisture around your entrance, pushing two fingers into you, then pulling out to hold them up to his face. You watch him, enraptured by the way he inspects your wetness, how it strings between his middle and ring fingers. 

Then, he surprises you even further by sucking them into his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he groans around them before slipping them out totally clean. His cock jerks next to your face and you belatedly realize you're drooling.

"Fuck, so do you." He's fully awake now, eyes clear, but dark. Hungry.

"Huh?" you ask dumbly. 

"Ya taste really good," he mumbles, his voice low and so sexy, still thick with sleep. You feel your cheeks heat up. Oh. 

"C'mere, baby," he tells you, patting his chest. You crawl up his body and lean up to kiss him, assuming he wants you to taste yourself in his mouth, but he stops you. "Other way, sweetheart."

Your brows furrow in confusion as you try to work out exactly what he's asking for. Even though you've been awake and riling him up for what feels like hours, your brain clearly hasn't caught up yet. His eyes are unreadable, fingers tense at his sides. Like he's just itching for you to understand.

"Need you to figure this out—know you can do it," he rasps needily. "C'mon, smart girl, what do I want?"

And then it hits you. He's not asking you to sit on his chest, not really. He wants you to sit on his face. Needs you to. Sprawled out on your hands and knees where his spit-slick cock would be just within reach, bobbing temptingly with every breath he takes.

God, you want to. The idea of Joel fucking you with his tongue while he's fucking into your mouth makes you clench so hard it hurts. You bite your lip, meeting his expectant gaze.

Okay. Okay, you can definitely do that. Especially when he looks so...eager. It also has the double advantage of combining mind-blowing sex with a well-rounded breakfast. You have a feeling you'll both be full after this.

"Just so I have this straight—," you splay your fingers across his stomach, trailing down to wrap tightly around his length and tug upward until a single, perfect bead of precum leaks from his slit, "—you still want my mouth here."  

Your eyes stay locked on his as you bend down to lick it off, lingering to suckle the tip and tease your tongue just under the ridge. When he doesn't immediately tug you off, you take him deeper, preening at his harsh intake of breath. 

You don't want to press your luck, but he tastes fucking incredible, somehow even better than he did earlier. Maybe it's the way he's watching you, captivated and attuned to your every movement. 

He’s already starting to buck into you, shallowly, now an active participant in his own pleasure. His knuckles are nearly white with how hard he’s fisting the sheets, teeth gritting as he fights the urge to rush you. 

But his patience is wearing thin. Just a few thrusts later, he tugs you off with what feels like dwindling restraint, and your dazed, glassy eyes don't do much to help.

You look wrecked, and you know it. Lips swollen and slick with saliva, your lashes wet with unshed tears from the effort of taking him. He reaches out to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, hissing when you catch the tip between your teeth.

“Yeah...ngh—yeah, keep doin' that. Suckin' me just like that," he breathes raggedly. "And sit that pretty pussy right here—"

Then, without warning, he's suddenly manhandling you into position, throwing your leg over his head, and maneuvering you until you can feel him panting heavily against your cunt.

“Down, baby, let's go. Wanna taste ya. Now.”

Blunt nails dig into your skin and your hips stutter, dipping low enough for your clit to brush his bottom lip. It’s enough for him to get a taste of you. For him to finally snap and decide he’s done waiting.

Joel yanks you onto his face, licking a wide stripe from your clit to your entrance, his tongue immediately finding a home in your pussy. The motion knocks you off balance and you fall forward, his cock just inches from your mouth.

Bracing a hand on his stomach, you wrap your other around him and he groans throatily in response, the sound deep and muffled as he licks into you with increased fervor. And his noises only grow in volume, vibrating against your folds and sending jolt after jolt into your very sensitive bundle of nerves. 

His mouth feels so fucking hot, and the coarseness of his beard burns, making it hard to concentrate on what you’re desperately trying to accomplish. You’re already panting, hiccuped breaths puffing teasingly and cruelly against him until he’s pulsing in your grip. 

The promise of him throbbing just like that down your throat makes you focus just long enough to take him back into your mouth, intent on sucking him down as far as your body will let you. But, by now, any sense of self-control he might’ve had before is totally gone. His hips buck clean off the mattress at the tightness of your lips around him, and he all but chokes you with the force of it, the size of him. 

And, fuck, you love it. The way his stomach tenses, his thighs trembling beneath you. You can’t tell where your body ends and his begins, not when he’s fucking into you every single way he can. His tongue spears into you and your pussy rhythmically squeezes him every time his cock grazes the back of your throat. 

You’re audibly gagging around him and it’s filthy as hell, but you can tell how much it’s turning him on. Christ, can you tell. Maybe you were genuinely worried you’d suffocate him at first but, now, you probably couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into his face even if you tried. And that's exactly what he wants.

"...Harder—mmph, c'mon, baby," you feel him groan into your cunt, urging your hips even lower. "—ride me harder, harder."

How—he...fuck, he's...? Everywhere. He's everywhere. You struggle to do what he told you, to use him for your mounting pleasure, but it doesn't fucking matter anymore. You're helpless but to let him do whatever he wants to you.

Joel’s devouring you. Roughly grabbing your ass, moaning pathetically into you as he pulls your cheeks apart for better access. It’s almost like you can feel him swelling between your lips, and you try to pull up for just a second of respite. 

But, then, he abruptly shifts. His mouth lowers to suck gently, yet fleetingly on your clit twice, then he licks a wide stripe back up to your entrance. Except, he doesn’t stop there. Instead, he continues his path up, gathering your wetness as he goes, and swirls his tongue around your other hole before sucking hard. And it sends you reeling.

Jesus fucking Christ, that’s new. Fuck, and it’s—so...so good. It’s indescribable, how he feels right now. How he sounds—slurping you up, whimpering desperately like he’ll cum at any moment. 

And he’s loud, drawn-out moans escaping from so deep within his chest, they climb their way from that tight ring of muscle straight up your spine, where you can vaguely feel his arm snaking around you to claw at your back. You can’t think anymore—you’re done thinking. 

Now, it’s just him trapping you in place, the three fingers he’s suddenly pumping into your spasming pussy, and his cock, now abandoned and leaking on his stomach. It’s so much, bordering on too much, and you can’t hold yourself up anymore.

Your head drops unceremoniously onto the puddle of precum and it smears across your cheek as his hips urgently roll into nothing. But you don’t even notice. Not even when your eyes roll back and you start to babble deliriously, your orgasm building quickly in a place between your legs you can’t even begin to explain.

“Joel…JoelJoelJoel—I…you…,” you slam a hand down on the mattress as your thighs start to quake violently. “…cumming—‘m cumming, fuck—fuck.”

It doesn’t just crash over you, it rocks you to your core. Everything below your waist locks down, squeezing his fingers so tight, you swear you can feel each individual knuckle. Your jaw drops, parting around what feels like a silent scream, but you can’t be totally sure because soon, Joel is groaning so gutturally, you can’t focus on anything else.

At least, until he cums completely untouched right into your face. And he cums hard. Thick spurts cover your lips and chin, landing haphazardly on your cheek, and your tongue darts out to taste him, salty and sated and perfect. Exactly what you've been waiting for.

His thighs tense intermittently, a few more drops dribbling out of his slit, and you crane your neck, letting your tongue flutter over his head. As it pulses weakly against your lips, Joel gasps out your name, burying his face in your swollen pussy again. 

Lazily, you swivel your hips into his mouth despite the extreme overstimulation, hiccuping soft moans and nearly succumbing to the easy pleasure. He gently caresses your clit, enveloping you with a dextrous warmth that simultaneously makes you jolt and crave the sensation. 

Neither of you want to stop. Truthfully, you'd let him do this to you all day, drawing orgasm after orgasm from each other the way you have been all week. But exhaustion's starting to set in and you're not sure your body can physically take any more.

Joel slaps your ass and you huff out a soft laugh, deciding it's time to separate so you can get cozy with him again. The perfect end to your surprisingly athletic, lazy Saturday morning in bed.

“You gonna stop anytime soon, or do you just live there now?” you pant teasingly, grimacing as you slowly lift your head off his stomach. 

Shit, you’re a mess. You’re practically stuck to him, his cum drying on his stomach and your face, and you can feel the stickiness of his saliva mixed with your juices dripping between your legs. His hand trails from your ass down to your inner thigh, painting mindless patterns on your sullied skin.

"Sure don't seem like ya want me to stop," he chuckles tiredly, managing to suck your clit chastely one last time before you jerk your hips away. 

His head finally drops onto the pillow below him, and he lets out a disgruntled whine when you toss your leg over his head, plopping down on the bed beside him.

"Yeah, well, one of us has to have a little self-control or we're not leaving this bed today. And you, uh, look like you could use some tidying up,” you snort, scratching your fingertips against his already crusting beard. He mimics the motion on your leg, and you swat his hand away, rolling your eyes fondly.

It would be disgusting if it were literally anyone else but Joel but, here in this bed—your bed—it feels so natural. Like it’s totally normal that you’d be covered in each other’s releases, having a silly conversation on a Saturday morning as if you’ve done this all your lives. 

“Might wanna look in the mirror, baby. I’d be more’n happy to keep lookin’ at ya like this, but—,” he leans up to wipe a streak of cum off your bottom lip. His hand lingers, cupping your damp cheek, and you instinctively lean into his touch. “—you probably need more cleanin’ up than I do.” 

You eye each other for a few seconds, taking in how truly disgusting you both are, before bursting into fits of laughter. You’re smiling so hard, your skin tugs under his drying release and that makes you laugh even harder.

“Alright, alright, filthy girl,” he jokes, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Lay down, I’ll take care of ya.”

He sits up and slowly slides off the bed, yanking your legs out from under you as he goes. Still giggling, you flop onto the damp, cotton sheets with an oomph and immediately take the opportunity to stretch out your sore limbs. You nuzzle into your pillow with a soft mewl, practically purring as you try to soak up the warm morning rays streaming through the gaps in the curtains.

You glance over at Joel as you continue to nest like a gigantic cat, but he's already watching you, paused in the doorway to the bathroom. His eyes rove appreciatively down your naked body and you observe him quietly, deciding you'll let him stare for as long as he wants to. There's no rush. Sure, you're still a mess and probably have the worst bedhead imaginable, but despite it all, he makes you feel beautiful. 

When he returns with a cool, damp washcloth a few minutes later, he's much cleaner and you're only a little bummed that the evidence of your explosive morning is gone. He's gentle and attentive as he wipes the remaining streaks off your cheeks and chin, and bends down to kiss you once your face is officially cum-free. 

Okay, maybe you lied earlier. This is your favorite part. Joel taking care of you, choosing to express his affection through his actions and touch. You sigh into his mouth, melting into the first real kiss you've shared since waking up, and it takes his tongue tangling with yours for you to realize he tastes minty. He's always so delicious.

Trailing further down, he wipes his release off your stomach, pressing his lips to each freshly-cleaned inch of skin, and then crawls between your legs to wash away the mess he made of your thighs. Your eyes start to flutter closed at the repetitive shift in sensation, his hands lulling you to sleep, until the washcloth hits the floor with a dull splat.

Well, that was over way too soon. But you quickly forgive the horrible transgression once his warm, welcome body sinks into the bed next to you, and his tousled head of hair and beard nuzzle into your stomach.

He mouths at your skin, his lips pressing sweetly around your belly button, and it tickles, making you laugh as you thread your fingers through his curls and scratch his scalp affectionately. 

After a moment of comfortable silence, his hand splays warm and broad next to his head. His expression shifts and he looks unexpectedly pensive. Uncertainty creeps into your chest before you can logic it away, even though you know without a doubt that he wants this. His lips begin to move against your stomach and it takes a second for you to realize he's saying something, almost too quietly for you to hear. But when it finally registers, all of that fear completely fades away.

"Hey there, kiddo. It's me, your daddy," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin as soothing as his words. He has the tiniest smile on his face, and it's growing wider by the second. "We're all so excited to meet ya. Me, your momma, your big sister, your uncle...we already love ya so damn much."

The room starts to blur into a wash of colors and figures, and shit, you're crying. But how could you not be? He's...talking to your tiny clump of cells. To your baby—who can't possibly be bigger than a pumpkin seed—with so much adoration, it makes your chest ache. 

You're trying so hard not to tremble or sniffle or breathe too heavily so you don't startle him, but that doesn't exactly work out. A few stray tears make their way up your nose, and you snort around your next inhale. Classic, clumsy you.

Joel's head shoots up like he's been caught and his cheeks flush that beautiful shade of burgundy you love so much. You don't want him to stop, but he looks so embarrassed like he thinks he's done something wrong. That couldn't be further from the truth. 

"I'm just emotional from the hormones, it's totally fine. I'm totally fine," you give him a reassuring, watery grin. "Keep going. I think they like the sound of daddy's voice."

He chuckles and reaches up to wipe your tears away, gently cradling your face in his hand before he slides it back down to your belly. He continues where he left off, just like you asked, but you have a sneaking suspicion he would've anyway. Joel's just one of those men who was born to be a dad. It comes as naturally to him as breathing.

“Heard that? That's your momma, kiddo. She's....well. She's somethin' else. Strongest, most lovin', person I've ever known and fuckin' sharp as a tack," he smiles up at you, eyes crinkling and bright as the goddamn sun. "And she's beautiful. She even sounds beautiful, don't she? Hopin' you'll come out just like her."

You scoff affectionately, shaking your head as you share a look that tells you he knows exactly what you're thinking. If this baby pops out without his brown eyes and curls, you're going to be so pissed. You teasingly tug his hair, willing him to take it back, but he won't. If your baby's getting anything from the two of you, it's stubbornness.

Then, before you can blink, there's a sudden tone shift. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together, and he turns his head so he's speaking directly into your belly. An exchange just between a father and his child.

"Wanna know a secret? S'just between you and me, though, alright? Don't go tellin' your momma," he says nosing into your soft skin, his voice barely above a whisper. You watch him curiously, squeezing his hand to get his attention, but his focus remains on your stomach. "'m gonna ask your momma to marry me. Think she'll say yes?"

Your heart stops and it feels like all of the air's been sucked out of the room. That's—fuck...that's one hell of a secret to share with your baby. You can't even imagine the kind of trouble they're going to get up to if they're already keeping secrets like that. 

His eyes flit up to meet yours, but they're not questioning or expectant. He isn't wondering what your answer will be. He just looks peaceful. Blanketed in an easy calm because he already knows what you're going to say. Of course, he does. 

Propping his chin on your hip, Joel quietly observes your reaction while he strokes the back of your hand with the rough pad of his thumb. You wonder what he sees on your face and in your body language right now because you're positive it's not the elation or excessive joy anyone else would expect.

You're not squealing or jumping up and down, or whatever newly engaged people usually do. No, that blanket of easy calm is more than big enough for both of you, and it feels safe and warm, just like you always knew this moment would. 

And you wouldn't want it any other way. Lying here together after possibly the most eventful week of your lives, filled with so much sex and love and family, and deciding that you want to keep doing this together, over and over. Forever.

You guide his hand up to your lips, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to his palm, before placing it over your racing heart. That tiny smile returns to his face and he crawls up your body so he can kiss you properly, conveying his love better than words ever could. 

It's still way too early for your baby to kick or give their daddy any sort of sign that they heard his question, but you're sure they wouldn't mind if you answered for them. It's a no-brainer, anyway.

"Yeah, I do."

thanks for reading! 💕

[froznwater]

post WT Alenaoh drabble

Alejandro wins World Tour and now not only does his family treat him poorly, but so does the rest of the world. Even Heather gets her bit of redemption after being "used by the evil Alejandro." But none of the shows fans like him. They can admit he was smart, yes, but ultimately someone able to play with that many peoples hearts is not a good person. Twitter trends with phrases like 'rigged', 'not my tdw', and 'slippery eel' for weeks after his victory. His phone number gets leaked, bombarded with hateful messages, and his car gets keyed during the ten minutes he takes to run into his local mall to pick up a gift for his mother on her birthday. Tiktok makes 'plot twist' edits of him. Where it begins with him, but ultimately switches to another of his precious peers after they "shut him down" and the entire concept is just one big fuck Alejandro party in the comments. Hundreds- thousands of greasy idiots belittling him for their enjoyment. He doesn't even post on Instagram anymore. Too pussy to entirely turn off the comments and let the world think they've won, he just buries the app deep in a folder and leaves it untouched. Eel. Fake. Bop. I'm doing it, are you? How many letters in Alejandro? Is that oil I see? Noah = 8.

Some people even show up at his house. His father hires bodyguards and demands the police to patrol the area, but blames Alejandro for all of it. This is all your fault. You were too careless. You should have done this. You shouldn't have done this. Look, this person figured you out. Why did you say this? That was dumb. Jose would have done better. He WON, didn't he? ...Didn't he? But college starts in two months, so he rides it out as much as he can. College sucks. Everyone stares, but no one approaches unless it's some dickhead-sexist loser clapping him on the back with enough gusto that really re-whacks the reality into him every time. He's met with "Aren't you that asshole that won Total Drama World Tour a couple months ago?" any time he tries to make some friends. None of the cast reach out. It stings, but Alejandro gets it. He's not wanted. Within three weeks, he's moves to the middle of fucking no where with his cat and enrolls in as many online classes that his new mediocre college will allow. - Noah, praised for his intelligence and funny one-liners over his course of 15 minutes of screen-time, is the fan-favourite. Officially. Voted through the after-season special reunion. Even though he never made it far. In the beginning it's vaguely funny, karmatic. Him. Noah. The unlike-able "schemer." Is the one that fans edit on tiktok and quote on Twitter. After a (short)while it's annoying. He can't get his coffee before class without posing(or declining to do so) for at least two instagram photos. He can't scroll Twitter without seeing someone referencing him in the replies. "Giving slippery eel." "It's all down here from here, honey."

Even his nickname for Owen is used to fatshame people everywhere. "Lunchbox." Is commented under anyone over 100 pounds. It puts a foul taste in Noah's mouth that makes him lock his phone and touch fucking grass every time. Tiktok clips of him go viral. So not only does a lot of America know him, most of it does, as well as other parts of the big wide world. It sucks. The studio won't let it die either. They sell merch of his face. Of his sweater vest with the inbuilt button-up. Of his face on a gay flag(which the fans use as confirmation in his sexuality after demanding so from him for months and getting no answer.(He isn't even gay.)) Of his last insult to Alejandro. And, really, who actually won that fight? Noah, bisexual gay icon, who signed away all his rights to merch pay-cut? Or the man and his million dollars that hasn't been seen or heard from in three months? With love and admiration comes hate. It's piling up more and more. And the more people blindly defend him the more people that come out with their "I'm going to be honest. I didn't care for Noah from Total Drama." And Noah can deal with hate. Honestly, he can deal with it better than he can with love and people genuinely liking him. But he's seen the pattern. He knows where this is going. He goes on a few interviews he never accepted before, gets a new phone number, deletes all his social media, applies to a new college with a student count of 2,000, and retires his red sweaters.

Fuck the internet.

- You'll never guess who he sees.

[phoenixcatch7]

Honestly I'd really like to see a mxtx3 story where wwx and xl work with Sqq to reveal sqq's true backstory and the system to lbh.

I mean, think about it!! One of the biggest problems with scum villain is how even though they get together, unlike the other couples bingqiu is still left with all these huge secrets that massively affect them both. Lbh is left believing he married his mercurial abuser, that his suffering passed some sort of indefinable test that proved him worthy of basic rights. That Sqq threw him in the abyss of his own volition. That Sqq was really sacrificing his life and not faking his death with intent to survive.

Sqq is left knowing all these things but unable to act on them, unable to tell his husband about his own past, unable to explain his actions, never able to fully let his guard down because he's supposed to be shen qingqiu. He can't even tell his own husband his original name!! If he could have, he would have, even if only in the extras!

But can you imagine???

A meeting of bingqiu, wangxian, Hualian, for whatever reason, and as the three (actual) protagonists chat and gossip and get to know each other, as they talk, Sqq is at ease enough to slip up and finds out he can talk about the system to anyone from outside pidw! Not just sqh!! Maybe not completely, but he can mention some, and the other two, concerned for their new friend, are clever enough to tease the rest out. They're horrified. Sqq is resigned but freshly hopeful.

And so begins Mission: Save Sqq's Marriage!

(Sqq would very much like to contend the title but he is out voted.)

I'd just love to see the three of them (with unquestioning aid from their husbands) get up to hijinks and face existential horrors on a quest to help bingqiu get the closure they need. And moshang too, I guess XD.

It'd also be very, very funny to have them all in the middle of the latest traumatic and/or mortifying scene look around at the other two like 'hey, aren't you supposed to be freaking out now? This is normally the part people start screaming' and the other two are like 'I mean I guess?? We've got things to do though' like kings of unflappable repression right there.

(and lbh and lwj having vinegar-offs while hc is sighing dreamily watching his husband make semi decent friends for once)

Like there's a bunch of crossovers but none really scratch that itch, you know? The main characters of all 3 mxtx?? There's so much potential for Truly Unhinged Shenanigans!! Wangxian visiting pidws wife plot filled world and disappearing into the wilderness for a full week, coming back with every single piece of clothing they brought ruined. Hualian go visit mdzs and and no one believes xl is a diety and hc chomping at the bit to kill them for the injustice. Bingqiu going to tgcf and lbh getting mistaken for a calamity, or Sqq falling into the one wife plot kidnapping or something intended for a diety.

But seriously imagine Sqq complaining about something and wwx and xl immediately going 'that's not right! You deserve better!!' and Sqq is like 'no it's fine I'm used to it' and the other two slam their fists on the table like 'no!!! If [husband] was forced to keep that kind of secret I'd hate it!! You two deserve to be properly happy!! Let us help! We can fix this!' and start working with zeal and vigor while Sqq trails along embarrassed half heartedly muttering 'it's not that bad >:/'.

And when it works (presumably some clever loophole they stumbled on) and bingqiu are tearfully kissing they share a low five without looking. Or that one meme where the person getting kissed holds their hand back and their wingman enthusiastically high fives it but there's two wingmen XD!

I don't knowww but it'd be such a good premise! Ripe for character interactions!! Fluff! Crack! Angst! Daytrips and pouring their hearts out to people who'd really understand! Xl wwx and Sqq bestie team up! Meeting moshang! Wwx info dumping about his monster index categorisation to an enthralled Sqq! Xl and Sqq bemoaning etiquette while wwx laughs at them! Xl and wwx having intense discussions about morality and righteousness! All three of them laughing at how oblivious they were about their husbands, each trying to one the other two for Dumb Moments They Should Have Realised (Sqq wins by horrifying the other two)!

Forget cross country kidnappings and being locked in a room! Where is my protagonist trio getting into trouble on a self imposed mission to help their friend! Let their magnetism for insanity shine!!

[reasonsforhope]

Btw, if anyone cares to know, my position on Biden and the 2024 election is this:

Starting September* 1, 2024, I will be doing whatever I can to make sure that Trump does not get a second term as president

Until that day, I'm going to be doing whatever I can to push for an end to the genocide in Gaza and an immediate ceasefire, and that includes criticizing, protesting, and lambasting Biden for funding and providing weapons for Israel's genocide

ETA: I will still be posting about significant good things the Biden administration has done, though, because some of it is a really big deal that people deserve to know about

ETA: But I will not be defending Biden from any criticism around Palestine/Israel/war crimes

*This originally said October 1st but someone pointed out to me that there are a few states where early voting starts in late September, including a couple swing states, so I changed it because that's a very good point

I don't plan to tell anyone not to vote for Biden in the meantime, myself, because shitty two party system and I'm really serious about Trump not getting reelected

But I'm also not going to do anything to discourage people who are seriously rallying against Biden, because he is, you know, literally bypassing Congress to make sure he can fund crimes against humanity

I never want to diminish that reality.

And more than that: If we want genocide to actually be a dealbreaker for politicians and presidents... then we need to start acting like it could be.

--

Details/related thoughts:

I will still be posting about good things Biden and his administration are doing, because they are the ones running the US government and Congress is super deadlocked, so a lot of the national-level good news in the US has been done by his administration, and I'm not going to stop posting about that good news

Shout-out to the anon who accused me of being a US government propagandist with a whole PR team bc I posted about Biden a few days in a row. I promise you I'm blogging from my bed in my pjs and do not have a PR team lol

Also, for people who don't think we should be spreading serious criticism about Biden, for fear of Trump winning in 2024: I hear you--that's an incredibly valid fear. I've struggled with that myself, in the process of coming to this(/these) decision(s). But consider this: it's better that we really pile on the criticism and pressure now, because a) people are dying, and b) Biden's chances will be much worse if Israel is still bombing/decimating Gaza on election day

Relatedly, for anyone who's tempted to think Trump would be better when it comes to the Gaza genocide, again, it's really understandable to want to put your hope in any viable alternative. However, I promise you that is not going to happen. Joe Biden at least conditionally gives a couple shits about human life. Trump doesn't. Remember Trump's Muslim ban? In all likelihood, Trump would just tell Israel to bomb Gaza harder and ban Palestinian refugees from entering the US

Last thing on Trump: maybe this is naive of me, but for a lot of reasons, I'm not actually particularly worried about Trump winning in 2024. If I was, I might have made some different calls here. I have a few asks about this in my inbox and will probably make a post at some point about the reasons why, but yeah, Democrats have mostly been wanting to run against Trump instead of DeSantis or Haley or whoever for some very real reasons

You're welcome to disagree with me/this post in any direction, btw

Seriously, I'm just a random person who doesn't speak for anyone besides myself and my own blog. I'm not saying these are categorically the right answers, or that any of this is what everyone should be doing. This is simply the system I have settled on (right now) for how I personally want to handle all of this

You're welcome to disagree with me but please don't send me any angry asks about any of it. Not that I in any way get a lot of those, thankfully! But yeah, this isn't something I'm interested in debating, this is mostly for notification/explanation purposes

[betweenlands]

[[Psst! Hey you! If you are here without context, go vote for the Well in the MCYT Prisons Contest!]] (and also for the Ghost's Vault, too)

“You tubed which Lying!?” Avid’s patron sputters.

Avid winces at the loud feedback screech accompanying their outburst, resisting the urge to clap his hands over his ears – instead, he looks directly over towards the most recently occupied tube, giving its new resident a quick once-over for identifying features. Fox ears, kind of runny mascara (the tube isn’t doing it any favors), raven wings, big floppy hat with a wide brim and a pointy tip.

He snaps his fingers. “Witch Lying! Yeah, that’s the one.”

“You,” the Nameless King says, and then mutters something completely unintelligible. “Avid. You have priorities. You are supposed to stop people from falling into the Void. This sort of diversion is–”

“I thought of that, actually!” Avid says brightly, leaning back against the stasis chamber. “Actually, they were like, a pretty high priority target once I realized I had access to other worlds through this whole… prison bracket… thingy.”

“I’m still not sure how that works, to be honest,” the Nameless King sighs.

“It’s really not that complicated! See, the other Avid is busy being possessed by some weird dark entity called the Old One or whatever, who I assume is like a rival of yours so I’m not going to linger on that because I certainly wouldn’t want to be asked about my exes, but anyway – he’s busy, I’m not –”

“–You have a job–”

“– and so I figured, what the heck, might as well just kinda sneak in there and see if there’s anyone that’s being particularly unsafe! And hoo boy, buddy, you are gonna be glad I did that.”

A pause, then more discontented grumbling from the other side of the line. “You had better have a good reason for taking your eyes off our biggest issues. Marmalade’s still at large, and that Fool could be–”

Avid snickers, rapping his knuckles against the tube despite the sign he’d put up next to it clearly reading DO NOT TAP ON GLASS. “Okay, so here’s the deal. It turns out this sucker right here, the Witch, they’re like – immortal immortal.”

“Most people are somewhat immortal. Respawn exists.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’ve taken a respawn in a couple centuries,” Avid says, stretching and moving over to the readout of the tubed figure’s genetics chart. “From an old modded generation – they’ve got some sort of immortality machine somewhere. Couldn’t figure out how to disable that but I did my research and, oh boy, you are gonna be glad to hear about this one.”

“Again. This had better be good.”

“Man, you are tetchy today.” Avid sighs. “I’ll make it quick. Immortality machine runs on death protection poppets. Death protection poppets block void damage. Void deals void damage. People go into Limbo if the Void can’t kill ‘em. You want people not in Limbo. Ergo, pickled Witch in the Woods.”

A long silence.

“Did I oversimplify?”

“No.” They sigh deeply. “Frankly, I’m stunned that you managed to create and follow a totally logical train of thought to completion. If what you’re saying is true, you actually have saved us both a great deal of hassle.”

“Aw. That’s sweet of you.” Avid leans back against the tube again, grinning.

“Don’t get used to it. But… well done.”

Avid grins widely, almost to the point where he has to cover his own face to hide how much he’s smiling. He’s done a good job! He did it! He’s getting a good grade in tubing people, something both normal to want and possible to achieve!

“I asked you a question, Avid,” the Nameless King says. Oops.

“Yep! Definitely heard you the first time, but, could you maybe just… rephrase that in full for a reason that is totally unrelated to me not hearing you?”

A long-suffering sigh. “I asked how you got them in the first place. Didn’t you lose the last round?”

“Eheh.” Avid’s grin turns almost uncharacteristically nasty. “See, that’s the thing. I did. I’ve been picking off the losers for the most part, so everyone’s been worrying about little ol’ me. I mean, who would even bother going after the immortal that won this round? If anything, they’re a suspect.” He waves one hand. “It’ll take people a little while to realize anything’s up – in fact, I can probably pick off a few more people in the quarterfinals before anyone figures out that the Witch is missing.”

“Make your pitch,” Avid’s patron says. “Quickly.”

“You got it.” Avid rummages in his inventory and pulls out a hand-drawn map of the upcoming tournament and a ballpoint pen that was probably Trog’s before they got tubed. He clicks it a few times, tapping it against his chin. “So, this round the Well looks like it might get bodied. Last round got something like a thousand votes – really close call, this place called the Desert versus these things called ‘where is’ blogs.”

“Please tell me you didn’t take out Ross,” the Nameless King says. “I don’t have the time or resources to deal with the Red Sun, and neither do you.”

“I may be dumb,” Avid says, “but I’m not stupid. I didn’t mess with that round. It was too high-profile, and keeping the Desert guys at large means they’re another prime suspect for the disappearances. Which brings me to the winners of that round.”

“Which was…?”

“The where is blogs. Apparently they put people in situations and it’s very popular. But, if they win, I’m thinking I could call in a little request for their next location.”

“Hm.” Avid gets the distinct sensation that the Nameless King is tapping their fingers against something. “Yes, that could work. If they let their guard down after winning like the Witch did, you could sweep in and get a lot of people at the same time – define where they are, as it were.”

Avid twirls the pen around his fingers a couple times before scribbling something down in the margins of his notes. “See, this is why we make such a good team! That is exactly what I was thinking we could do.”

“Excellent. Then make sure they win the next round – and don’t let me down.”

Avid nods, and then realizes that his patron can’t see him doing that, and then decides that he doesn’t really have anything to add. Awkward silence fills the air for several seconds.

“One more thing,” the Nameless King finally says. “You said you were picking off the losers, didn’t you?” Their voice is dryly annoyed again – so much for being happy with Avid’s job performance. “I would love to hear who else you’ve wasted our time on.”

“Not a waste of time!” Avid says brightly, hopping over the top floor railing and down to a lower floor. “So, there’s this really cute version of Viking that I would, just, love to talk with over drinks sometime, seems like a really fun dude, has this beautiful vault –”

“Avid. Focus.”

“Uh. Right. Probably won’t be able to talk to him face-to-face unless he gets into the finals, so I’m gonna have to work really hard to see if I can–”

“Avid.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Avid waves a hand as he checks over the occupant of the next tube. “Anyway, the guy he beat was really distracted and kind of stormed off muttering about how people should’ve had new perspectives or something? He was alone, so I bopped him over the head and tossed him in a stasis chamber.”

Avid looks over the catboy in the tube appraisingly. He’s wearing all-black with green and yellow highlights – he kind of looks like an emo version of Viking, if Viking actually wore hoodies. And had brown hair. And didn’t really look like Viking other than the heterochromia. “I don’t know his name, but apparently he’s Canadian? Whatever that means, I don’t think Canada canonically exists in–”

“You’re not serious.”

“I am! We cannot confirm Canada to be like, a canonically existing thing, that’ll break suspension of disbelief! Or at least that’s probably what Anathra would say.”

“I don’t care about the relative canonicity of Canada. You’re telling me you captured Kenadian? The person known for breaking into and out of places faster than anyone else? The prison escapist?”

“Ohhh,” Avid says. “He’s not Canadian, his name’s Kenadian. You know what, that makes so much more sense.”

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PROPAGANDA

ALEX DEWITT (DC COMICS)

1.) The term “fridging” is literally based on Alex and what happened to her. She was killed off violently by a bad guy trying to get at her boyfriend only a couple issues after she was introduced (making it obvious they only brought her in to kill her off for shock value). Her death did very little to the narrative other than hurt her boyfriend Kyle and was done in an exceedingly horrifying and violent way. (Bad guy came to the door with flowers and threatening note, broke in and attacked her, choking her to death, before [off panel] chopping her body up and sticking it in the refrigerator as a “surprise” for her boyfriend. This obviously is really fucked up and she deserves better and should win this actually (a vote for Alex is a vote for all fridging victims [in spirit])

2.) It doesn’t get much worse than being the character whose death originated the “fridging” trope. In Green Lantern Vol. 3 #54, Kyle Rayner comes home to find that Alexandra, his girlfriend, has been killed by the villain Major Force and stuffed into the refrigerator.

Alexandra DeWitt is the character whose misogynistic treatment coined the term where a character, usually female, is killed off purely to make the main character, usually male, feel bad. Even if there are other characters who have been subjected to similar levels of misogyny, Alexandra DeWitt’s treatment has been essentially immortalized.

3.) I know she’s not going to win but shout out to my home girl, literally the trope namer for women shoved in fridges. All anyone ever knows about her is that she was Kyle’s girlfriend and got murdered for his character development, even though she had plenty of potential to be her own character.

AMBER VOLAKIS (HOUSE MD)

1.) Holy shit thank you for reminding me about Amber. Her nickname that almost everyone calls her to her face every day is Cutthroat Bitch. When she & Wilson start dating there are so so so many jokes about her keeping his balls in her purse & having him whipped & etc etc just bc she’s assertive & confident. & then the whole two-part episode where they fridge her (which is. not quite house’s fault directly but he definitely contributed to it) they make it completely about house & wilson & maybe 2% about HER. I’m still mad forever

2.) After being fridged, she does show up in later seasons! As a hallucination. She shows back up to be the devil on House’s shoulder when he is hurtling towards a vicodin-induced breakdown. Literally only shows up to steer him into making bad decisions (including almost killing Chase (allergic to strawberries) by inviting him to a party where the stripper is wearing strawberry scented lotion that sends him into anaphylaxis)

3.) im so glad someone else submitted amber because she fits so well for this poll but i couldnt get my words out right but im going to try again anyway. i think an important aspect of how ambers character is treated and written for the audience has to do with if a man did what she did, hed be opportunistic and ambitious, if not a bit of an ass, but because shes doing it it makes her ‘bitchy’. “cutthroat bitch” “coldhearted bitch” etc is practically her canon alias at this point by how much she is referred to that way rather than her name. she is probably the most humanized out of wilson’s canon relationships and its mostly because theyre paralleling her to house. she deserved so much better she deserved the world and more

[olderthannetfic]

I know with social media the way it is, and how horrible the us political climate is, that this sort of response to Audrey as an OTW candidate was probably just a ticking time bomb. But damn, I went to her actual Twitter, and honestly? She seems like one of those old-style, fiscal conservative Republicans who may want to change things from within the party, however unlikely that may be. She literally pointed out how small govt means less govt messing with our rights, and how the current Republican national party is hypocritical about that.

So many of her typical tweetings (?) are pretty socially progressive. If she's in deep south Missouri, it may be that she had to run Republican for any chance of changing things for the better in her local area.

I do not support Republicans as a whole. I think they ARE dragging the country to a horrific, fundamentalist grave. But she is an individual, and from what I can tell, supportive of lgbtq rights and freedom of speech on the internet. I likely would not have voted for her anyway, but nothing she has done or said so far has earned her the hate and vitriol she has received over such a short period.

Tiffany was ALSO not a CCP spy working for the Chinese govt. She was literally not even in confirmed to BE in China for fucks sake. Chinese people have been leaving the country in droves! Was she a good fit for the board? Hell no! But she wasn't voted in, was she?

I'm just so exhausted of people assuming the absolute worst and going on a hate campaign based off their own misinformed assumptions. This is not helping anyone see the "left" or "proshippers" or whatever our "side" is, as reasonable, helpful people.

I'm exhausted of defending people whose positions I don't even agree with, because the people I do "agree" with are acting so abhorrently.

What are your thoughts on this?

--

Yeah, that's my read on her in the context of local US politics. Running as an independent and then a Republican where she is is typical of people with her type of platform. It doesn't make her Fundie Satan.

Like Tiffany, there are plenty of different reasons not to vote for her, so we don't need to worry so much about the minutia of her political stances. Only if she were a great candidate but with a couple of red flags would we need to dig into this.

Like I said last year, working for OTW means having people assume the worst constantly and come for you with pitchforks. There are reasons it's not attractive above and beyond internal mismanagement. It's hard to get enough people to run for Board to even have a contested election. We usually do these days, but in the past, we often didn't. It was just people taking turns to jump on the grenade.

This kind of response to someone agreeing to the worst job in OTW just reaffirms that it's not worth it and discourages future candidates.

I think everyone should chillax and vote in somebody else.

ETA: and while this has been sitting in the queue, it has become a moot point anyway.

[rainbowsky]

GG and DD and queer representation

As some of you might be aware, Greece has finally legalized same sex marriage. This was very exciting news!

I had an ask related to the Greek marriage equality debate and had begun drafting a response but ended up getting sidetracked, and by the time I got back to this post marriage equality had already won.

I figured I'd finish this response because it covers some ground that newer turtles might find useful (and because I hate leaving things like this unfinished).

@rozanthi asked: Πιστεύετε πως οι χελώνες βοηθούν η δυσκολεύουν τους ggdd στην σημερινή πραγματικότητα;

Hi rozanthi!

Here's the rest of the ask(s) rozanthi sent.

rozanthi asked: Sorry l put my question in English and not in Greek by mistake. Do you thing that turtles benefit or harm ggdd in today's sircumstansies, reality. I apologize if in someway l offended you with my question about turtles and ggdd. Maybe that is the reason why you didn't answer. But you see, in my country(Greece) these few last months, a debate is going on in our parliament about voting to make political marriage between people of the same gentre legal. There has been a lot of fight and tension from our church and people with no manners or Shane minds. I asked you that question because l support ggdd as a couple in a relationship as barriors of a message as pioneers of something important for China to accept. And l wanted to know how much public support in the form of turtles help them along or make it more difficult. Here as more we support homo. homosexuality we bring thanter and more hate. In February we will know if we made a baby's step in out parliament. Support your ggdd in any way you see tat you really help them and not making it worse on them. They need support Ln the most gentle delicate way. Thank you for baring me.

First of all, it's OK to send me an ask in another language. Don't apologize for feeling better able to express yourself in your first language. I can always machine translate and ask for clarification when I feel I'm missing something (and the asker can clarify if I get anything wrong). Although I think you've done an adequate job of communicating your question here in English.

Second, as I've said many times, people should never read anything into whether I answer their ask or not. It's almost always just a result of me picking easier/quicker questions to answer.

Now, to address the ask.

Your question reflects some misconceptions/misunderstandings about GGDD's situation and about what turtles represent. Some of the topics you're discussing here are not directly related, and I'm going to try to break them down into their component parts for you.

The first and most important thing I can say to you is (and this is really, really key to understanding GGDD and understanding what turtles are in China):

GG and DD are not representatives of the queer community, and turtles are not a political movement.

Quite the contrary. I think it's fair and accurate to say that GG and DD, and by extension turtles, actively take steps to avoid being seen as part of a political movement, queer movement, protest movement or human rights movement.

(In fact, unfortunately many turtles are actually not particularly LGBTQ-friendly, don't support queer rights or gay marriage, and don't even consider GG and DD to be gay/queer. Many believe GG and DD are only 'gay' for each other, which is homophobic and a reflection of poor sex education).

It's essential for their own safety that GG and DD are not seen as political movement in China, or as figureheads of the queer rights movement. The Chinese government and even a sizable percentage of the public at large tend to take a very dim view of anyone who tries to organize and rally around subversive political causes.

Especially the current government, which is very repressive and has been rolling back LGBTQ rights and freedoms and cracking down on queer orgs, shutting down LGBTQ outreach organizations, etc. Pride events and large public gatherings are treated as disruptive protest movements, and have been banned.

There are queer male turtles in China who actively avoid openly identifying as turtles in order to protect the fandom from being seen as a queer rights movement.

Turtles are a fandom and are categorized and treated that way both by turtles and by passersby. Just a fandom of 'cute young girls' clowning over some handsome boys they ship together.

It's important that it stays that way. GG and DD cannot be seen as leading a movement, they cannot take on the role of leading a movement, and many turtles would likely not even support such a movement.

That's not because GGDD are queer, by the way - although under the current government queerness is becoming in some ways more restricted and frowned upon at least from an official perspective - it's because political movements are frowned upon*.

*That's not to say that Chinese people don't organize or protest around certain causes, but those causes tend to be more municipal or limited in scope. Broader political movements - especially ones that appear to stand against the policies of the current regime - are generally very quickly quashed.

That's also not to say that GG and DD aren't hugely inspiring to queer people all over the world, because they are.

GG and DD do not even present themselves as queer.

This is important to keep in mind. GG and DD are closeted, and are assumed by the public at large to be straight single men. 'Eligible bachelors'. This is a double-edged sword, but ultimately it protects them and protects their careers. Top stars are a lot more marketable if there's a perception of romantic availability, and relationships - even relationship rumors - can have a massively negative impact on a star's career.

Even straight married stars hide their relationship status and present themselves as single for this same reason, and straight married celebrity couples - even ones who are out as being married - who attend industry events will often pretend not to know each other in public (sound familiar?).

Coming out as (or being outed as) married or in a relationship is viewed as career suicide, and a star's numbers, opportunities and popularity will plummet. Not always, but usually. Producers and backers know what sells, and married stars just don't sell as much as hot singles do. Fans will pursue stars that appear to be single, and drop them when they marry or come out with a relationship.

Heteronormativity means the vast majority of people in China will assume GG and DD are straight, and GG and DD will not 'correct' them on that. Quite the opposite, they go along with and even at times might say or do things that help feed the perception that they're straight.

There are almost no LGBTQ public figures in China, and those who are out are not top stars.

As international fans, what we do and think doesn't matter much.

Things that happen in the international fandom are largely irrelevant to people in China, and are almost never going to have any impact whatsoever on GG and DD. What we think about them and what they represent to us is of little consequence to their careers.

For example, the ongoing i-fan debate about colored light banners is a bit of a wank because nobody in the international fandom is ever likely to be at an event where we would have to make decisions about what color of light banner to bring. Our thoughts about colored light banners are utterly irrelevant to the fandom in China.

It's really easy to lose sight of that as an international fan, and get so caught up in and wrapped up in our own ideas and arguments and debates that we forget that nothing we say do or think really has any relevance to GGDD's lives.

Our support for their projects and merchandise and brands, our subscriptions to platforms to view their dramas, our movie tickets, our fan support when they travel internationally... these things do have an impact on them and do matter, but the opinions and political ideas that we might discuss and debate here on Tumblr or even on Twitter are highly unlikely to ever reach their circle or directly impact them, whether positive or negative.

There are some notable exceptions to this. Making candy out of nationalistic posts - particularly posts about events of national mourning or major political significance - is unwise and could potentially backlash on them. More about that in this series of posts from Pie.

I talked about some of the other harmful things we should be avoiding in this post.

But the idea that anything international fans might do or say as turtles might negatively impact GG and DD is - for the most part - not a reflection of reality.

There are valid reasons to believe GG and DD value turtles and take strength from our support.

This fandom has been around for 6 years, and in all that time GG and DD have never sought to shut it down. Other dating rumors, CP, etc. have been shut down over the years, but turtles continue to be the top CP in China and the fandom is constantly growing.

GG and DD have been caught on camera many times reacting positively to turtle light banners.

LRLG rumors - which many turtles believe hold a lot of credibility - have repeatedly depicted GG and DD as enjoying our support, and have at times directly expressed GG and DD's appreciation and gratitude to turtles for our support.

Despite the fact that this fandom is hugely controversial among GG and DD's solo fans and even among some passersby, GG and DD and some of their associates continue to regularly feed us candy. This is something that simply would not happen if we didn't have GG and DD's support.

If we believe BJYXSZD, then it only follows that turtles would mean a lot to GG and DD.

There is a fine balancing act between GGDD and turtles, where we show our support and they feed us, and we all try to keep things light and fly somewhat under the radar.

But turtles aren't 'under the radar at all'. Turtles are an incredibly active, vibrant, loud fandom in China, with big events and public charity work and fan activities and banners and billboards, etc. etc. However, they manage to fly under the radar because they're 'just fans'. They're not a political movement and they're not troublemakers. They're just a bunch of fans having fun together.

They also fly under the radar by being seen as a crazy fringe group, a bunch of deluded clowns. They are underestimated and dismissed because of this, which protects GG and DD.

A lot of turtles wear that proudly because they know that they're acting as a shield for GG and DD. Turtles make it possible for GG and DD to get public support for their relationship without having their relationship outed. Turtles take all the hate and ridicule that's piled on them, so that they can show GG and DD they're loved and supported.

This is one of the things about turtles that is most beautiful and powerful. Turtles stick their necks out every day to support and protect GG and DD.

I talked about that in more detail in this post.

I hope this helps give some context about queer issues as they relate to GG and DD, and to the turtle fandom as a whole. While many people inside and outside China support GGDD and are inspired by them and view them as queer icons, the way they are framed and discussed will differ wildly between the Chinese and international fandoms, and what is said outside of China won't have much of an impact on GGDD. That's for the best.

For my thoughts on the politics of all this, please see this post.

[tzyuki]

[ 김규빈 ] ONE & ONLY ꒰ K.GV x F!READER

027. last waltz | smau + written (621 wrds)

IN WHICH ✶ — Rumors about Y/n pursuing a Zerobaseone member backstage at music bank start floating around the media after she and ZB1 member, Kim Gyuvin are seen talking behind in one of the episodes of ‘Eunchaes Star Diary’. Some netizens believe it and some don’t, some hated her for touching his shoulder and some didn’t care. Y/n went live to debunk the rumors, saying she wasn’t interested in a relationship at the time. The thing was, the rumors were true. She secretly was pursing Kim Gyuvin, or at least she wanted to. Ever since she first saw him backstage at M Countdown when ‘Love Killa’ team got to perform she was starstruck. She saw him at the vending machine and wished him luck in ‘Boys Planet’. She actually never had watched an episode of the survival show at all, she said it would be too painful for her, but that was the night she started to watch and most importantly, vote for Kim Gyuvin.

It felt like actual hell to Y/n. Her daily schedule on hiatus consisted of, wake up, wash up, skincare, lay in bed, scroll on twitter, then sleep. She had actually started to text Riize’s Seunghan since the two were both in the same boat so why not be friends. She constantly complained to the boy how she was over it already and he simply replied with “Trust me, I know.”

To make it even worse, it was an indefinite hiatus. She didn’t know when she’d be going back or if she’d ever go back. She just prayed everyday that the news would die down but the k-fans just love to hate on her.

Why did she think about debuting when she did this?

This is crazy, I thought she was like an angel. You can’t really trust idols nowadays.

Fucking crazy…it’s the ones you never expect.

She deserves to be kicked out.

Did she expect her career to go far with a past like this?

I hope her behavior doesn’t rub onto Kim Gyuvin, he’s just a rookie.

All that ran through her mind these days was if she was even ready to speak about her most vulnerable years for the whole industry to hear.

Her boyfriend at the time, Hajun, was the first boy she loved; she fell in love with him so quickly due to how sweet he was to her. He had flaws obviously, the flaws being the fact that he liked to party hard and drink even harder. Which was crazy for a 16 year old, but what can you expect from a teenage boy?

Y/n liked Hajun because of his maturity, he didn’t act like anyone else in their grade which was a blessing at the time, but just like any other teenager he liked to have fun. Way too much fun for his age.

Hajun started to act differently…he still treated the girl like an angel but rarely hung out during the day. Y/n didn’t want him to leave so she started to do everything he liked, which was partying, drinking games, wasting money, sneaking out, etc. Those were major red flags the girl couldn’t see because at the end of the day he treated her with respect.

She wouldn't say she was addicted, but after he did eventually leave her (saying he needed to stay sober to get accepted to medical school) it was hard for her to have fun without alcohol. Just a couple shots were enough for her, but she absolutely hated the fact that he was getting better and she wasn’t.

Everyday in her mind she thanks her best friend at the time for telling her parents about her issue. If she hadn’t things could’ve been way worse and she wouldn’t have lived her dream.

She most importantly thanks the universe for regaining her parents' trust and the fact that her seniors at the company don’t think lowly of her. She would actually die if any of her favorite sunbaenims thought of her that way.

She just wishes this didn’t have to come back to her at this time of the year, during the new year where her and her unnies would all wish the best for their group and each other as a whole.

It pained her to watch the show online instead of being there, she knew her members were there in her spirit (they all wore the WAZE matching necklaces) but it still hurt. It was a tradition and it was broken because of her stupid ex boyfriend.

It hurt even more seeing the girls prepare for a comeback without her, but she loved to hear about the girls thoughts on the song and concept.

m.list — previous — next

taglist 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ @yerimse @100203s @str0l0gy @sieuneo @enhaz1 @weoris @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @jiawji @trsrina @esc6pism @aerivrs @jiaant11 @latriii @annoyingbitch83 @pwarkj @sleepingisweak @beomibeom @seosracha @sparklingsjy @ahnneyong @mioujon @whippedforbeomgyu @wonqr @lunavixia @y7n2394-ze @wtfhyuck @lcv3lies @mangowonyo @nyujjan @chaeryvips @tocupid @chanlixed @svtglitch @wonluvrbot t @wondering-out-loud @igotkpoops @jeongintwt @samvagejkflxhrt t @daydreamer5006 @loverickyyy @andsjun @soobiverse @ivrousae @akari-saka13 @loverb0yz @alwayswook @bobariki @bbangricz @j4dorebooks @dimplewonie @redm4ri @moonlightjungwon @enhapocketz @gunwookiez @catsyoon @hyeoniez @hoey2k

[sixtynineinchnails]

I've been wanting to make this post for months and in light of the recent ex-presidential ear piercing now seems as good a time as any.

As a non-usamerican, as someone who is pro Palestine, as an anarchist: I am begging you with every fibre of my being to go to the fucking polls this fall and

VOTE.

Disclaimer: I don't live in the united states and I never have and I probably never will. I can never truly understand what it's like to be a usamerican and I'm not going to pretend like i could. I fully expect to get called a fascist or some shit for saying your should exercise your right to vote but at this point I don't care. I'm scared, we're all scared, and news like we've just gotten tonight is only going to compound the fear and chaos and conspiracy thought and fearmongering and hopelesspilled doomerism we’re all dealing with rn. I don’t want to make anyone’s day worse. I'm not looking to debate you. I just want to say some things that i’ve been thinking about for a long time now while a couple people might actually stop to listen.

The united states of america is the most powerful country in the world.

What happens in the united states government this fall will affect every single person on the planet, in some way, for better or worse.

You aren't just voting blue to avoid trump turning the united states into an alt-right theocratic dictatorship (which on its own is bad enough). You're also voting to avoid the right from gaining power (where they haven't already) in of other powerful democratic countries. You're voting to stop Palestine (and let’s be real, probably a handful of other places) from being wiped off the face of the planet with nuclear bombs. You're potentially voting to avoid a third world war. I'm not saying this to spread fear of these things happening. I'm saying this because if you're not already aware of how huge the scope is here: you're not voting to save your country, you're very likely voting to save the entire world.

I can't speak to how people feel everywhere (if you’re also a non-usamerican please feel free to share how this is/has/will affect your country in the notes) but I want to speak to my own for a bit. I can confidently say that what happens in america heavily affects the political and social situation here in canada. We would not have had a convoy of thousands of people drive across the country (which takes days to do) to occupy our capital city for a month and halt almost $4 billion in trade to protest, i kid you not, wearing a mask during covid, if trump supporters hadn't paved the way (and directly influenced canadians to follow in their footsteps). We wouldn't have had "concerned parents" protesting against sex-ed and LGBTQ+ inclusivity in schools (protests full of armed+mounted police which they brought their young children to during school hours) if trump supporters hadn't paved the way. There are people waving flags and signs around on street corners along major roads every single week everywhere from the largest city in our country to small towns of under 5000 people. I’ve heard of people who’ve spiraled into such severe conspiracy rabbitholes that their entire lives and personalities have changed in just a few years. Despite being canadian nationalists, these people and their patterns of behaviour are all a direct result of donald j trump and his followers. And no matter your political leaning, pretty much everyone hates our current prime minister, our economy is bad, even people with decent incomes can’t afford to eat, and everyone is frothing at the mouth for something to happen. If america votes trump this fall, I see very little hope that our country won't vote conservative (our main right-wing party). They will backpedal decades of LGBTQ+ rights and Indigenous peoples' rights and climate action funding and children's education and a whole pile of other important stuff. They have made it very clear that they will follow the exact same path as right wing america and there are a scary amount of people here who want that. And even if canada remains centre/left while sharing the largest land border in the world with a trump dictatorship....well I for one can’t see that going over very well either.

And that's just my country. I know a lot of other countries have been battling a similar spike in alt-right groups and conservative ideologies following the last trump presidency. I don't think any of us are truly prepared for what will happen in the event of another one.

Look. I hate biden too. In general I disagree with the very concept of colonial government and money and the division of countries/states/etc and the legal/carceral system and a whole whack of other shit that we have to live with right now. Someone’s said this before but if any of us thought that telling you guys to blow up a walmart would save your country from a fascist dictatorship I for one would encourage it. But none of us are actually going to blow up a walmart, and it wouldn’t solve anything at this point anyways. We all have to take action in whatever ways we actually can and will. Voting is one of many small, simple steps you can take, should take, fucking better be taking. It’s easy, it’s legal, if you mail in you don’t even have to go to the polling station, and if you really can’t vote for whatever reason, encourage everyone you know who can to do so. Hell, if I could vote on november 5th I would crawl my ass over the border on my hands and knees to do it. I'm sorry that the two options are a fascist police state and an even worse fascist police state run by a man who thinks he's a god, but not voting won't fix that problem. You're not going to establish a revolution by purposefully not taking part in social change, and encouraging others not to either. Not voting against trump = voting for trump. If you don't vote and that orange nukefucker takes over your country it is your fault. And we’re all going to pay for your inaction, especially the people in places like Palestine who will be in significantly more danger than they already are if trump gets his fake tanned hands on the situation.

Anyways. Keep fighting. Stay safe. Do what you can. Don't give up. There is always hope for a better future. And for fucks sake go vote.

Oh and if we do end up in the worst timeline this november and I see you anti-voting fuckers making "lmao time to move to canada" jokes...count your fucking days.

-

TLDR: usamerica is not the only place in the world affected by the actions of usamerica. If you’re still railing against voting at this point you’re pro-trump lmao.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #39] Rooms

warnings: fluffy and luverly!! let's go to pohang!! laser tag chapter :) start of the pre-wedding celebrations!

a/n: im scheduling as i watch bangbangcon but it've already made it through the red bullet and wings show so I am behind schedule! too distracted! tannie writer second, army first!!

wc: 9.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"What did you vote for?" Jeongguk asks, tucking into the piping-hot French toast from his favourite cafe downtown.

Sitting by the window, you're polar opposites. Dressed down, you've come to meet him following his meeting with the bank, and are incredibly grateful that you're in a public space. Never before have you seen him so formal - but you have seen the tie he's wearing before. The last time you'd laid eyes upon it, it had been fastened around your wrists. Every now and again, your words trail off, eyes focused on his chest - and every single time, Jeongguk smirks.

"Pohang," you say, digging your fork into the strawberries he set aside for you on his plate. As much as he likes them, he knows you like them more. "Beach over mountains any day."

Jeongguk nods, brows furrowed together as he swallows down his food. "Fuck me, that's good - and yeah, same. Will be nice to get out of the city, too. And hey -" he snaps his fingers beside his face. Twice. Gets your attention. "Eyes up here, Disco Ball."

Throwing him a small glare, you decide you're not to blame. "You shouldn't have worn that tie."

Exhaling a breathy laugh, Jeongguk just shakes his head. "You should learn to have some self-control."

With a roll of your eyes, you play off his teasing. "Please, self-control is basically my middle name."

"Disco Self-Control Ball?" He asks almost a little too sincerely. "Must be a ballache for signing legal documents."

"My parents wanted me to be unique," you playfully reply.

"You're certainly unusual," Jeongguk knocks his head to the side, then takes a sharp swig of his coffee as if it's hard liquor. There's a playful arrogance to the way in which he teases you, and you know that anything you say will be met with dumb banter when he's in moods like these. "Unique sounds far too nice."

"Pack it in, Jeon," you scold, but there's a smile on your lips, and glitter in your gloss. A certain happiness radiates from you that he hasn't had the luxury of indulging in recently. What with the scare of carrying a literal child pressing on you for a couple of weeks, and Jeongguk's stress about the bank meeting, there's not been much chance for respite. You've both been processing the events - and the bad decisions it took to reach such a calamity.

So despite the tease, you're both agreed: a breather is needed.

Things with Jeongguk are good. Great, in fact. You're both seemingly happy with the arrangement at hand, and yet there's a fear that things could get spoiled. That you'll take how good things are for granted. Will ruin it.

For lack of better phrasing, you were only ever supposed to be fuck buddies. Not parents. Not anything more than friends who fuck around a little bit in the hopes that their issues would resolve themselves.

"Hey," he defends, holding his hands up, the smile on his face as he chews on the last bit of French toast just as infuriatingly charming as it always is.

Your conversation is lost in the general chatter of the cafe, and anyone walking past would be forgiven for thinking that you're talking about the upcoming new moon, or astronomy, or some shit like that. The way Jeongguk looks like he's got an entire cosmos in his eyes, and the glitter that freckles your skin, makes you appear like you're in your very own world. Very own galaxy, perhaps.

"I mean it," you say sternly. "I'll think you're flirting with me if you keep being mean."

Jeongguk just shrugs. "Maybe I am flirting with you."

The way you gag and heave at such a response has the table next to you glancing over to check you aren't actually throwing up.

Jeongguk laughs. Reaches for your arms to steady you, then glances over to the people looking your way. "Don't worry about her. Just swallowed a fly."

You look at him with narrowed eyes, yet again, and Jeongguk begins to learn that this is synonymous with feigned disgust. Your narrowed eyes are never glaring. Always glowing.

Shaking off his touch, you ignore the way Jeongguk bites down on his bottom lip, and how his lip ring does the thing.

"I'll swallow you if you're not careful," you threaten - and regret it immediately when Jeongguk raises his eyebrows.

"Now that's not very friendly, is it, Byeol?"

"Oh, no like that," you laugh, because you don't want to keep pretending like you're entirely disgusted by him. If anything, now you're thinking about it, you'd quite like to swallow him. You blame the desire to do incredibly unfriendly things with your best friend on the tie he's wearing.

"Anyways," you dismiss. "Are we driving across to Pohang? Or getting the train?"

"I think you mean to say am I driving - and the answer is yes, I am," he assures you. "Is this a sneaky way of begging for a ride?"

"I thought you'd never ask - and hey, don't look at me like that. You normally like it when I ri-"

"Byeol!"

"What?!"

"Behave yourself."

With a coy smile, you mumble an apology.

Jeongguk just shakes his head. Mutters, 'unbelievable,' and takes a sip of his coffee. Hands in your lap, you lean over to reach your straw and take a sip of your iced americano, too. Look up at him. Earn yourself another warning.

"Stop it with the eyes."

Cheeks rounding, lips still around your straw curving into a tight-lipped smile, you close your eyes.

"Seriously, you gotta behave yourself if we're gonna survive this weekend," he tells you, knowing that there's absolutely no way he'll make it out a weekend of you flirting with him in the way that you are now alive. Might just die.

A group consensus had been taken for Yoongi and Seoyeon's respective celebrations of their singledoms - but neither of them really felt like saying 'goodbye' to it. Would much rather just say 'hello' to the lives they're building together. In all honesty, marriage will really change nothing between the pair of them.

It's for this reason that they've opted for a group celebration. Two options had been given in the group chat - renting out a pension-style house by the coast over in Pohang, or a spa stay at a mountain resort on the edge of the city - and the vote had been unanimous.

This weekend, you'll all head over to the coast. After the stress of the last few weeks, you genuinely can't wait - even if Hayun will be there.

"It's inevitable," you shrug when Jeongguk asks how you're feeling about it. In all honesty, you're surprised that he breached the conversation. Thought that she'd be ignored like a bright red elephant in the corner of the room. Instead, it seems like he's trying to assess the situation before it even happens - and you can't blame him. "She might not be my favourite person in the world, but this weekend isn't about me, is it?"

You've given it a lot of thought over the last few days. Too much thought, you think. Have considered half a dozen scenarios that could play out, and the bias of your brain always has them working out in your favour.

She wants to argue? You'll rise above it. She gives you a snide remark? You won't give her the dignity of a response. Jeongguk falls under her spell? Let him. It's not like he's yours, anyway. He can do as he pleases.

Yet when you look up at him, and see the look of contemplation on his handsome features, neat brows furrowed and a frown detailing his expression, you secretly hope that she isn't what pleases him anymore. You're unaware of the ins and outs of their conversation at The Ryu. All you know is that she always laughs a little too much at Jeongguk's jokes in the group chat, but that he ignores all of her replies.

"Well, no," he supposes, eventually.

"How are you feeling about it?" You decide to ask. Have spent far too long trying to read between the lines that Hayun has painted red. Would like a little clarity. Think that it's about time you stopped jumping to conclusions without a safety net in place. "Have you spoken lately?"

He shakes his head. Toys with the straw in his coffee glass, which is mostly ice by this point. The small frozen shards clatter against one another, but will soon be melted into oblivion. Forgotten all about. "No reason to."

He pretends to not notice the coy smile you're trying to hide, but it's contagious. He mirrors you. Does a terrible job at pretending like he isn't pleased by this admission.

There's an acute awareness between you both that this feels new. That the overwhelming burden of Jeongguk's confused feelings towards Hayun no longer weighs down on his shoulders in the same way that they used to.

"Think that Tae and Danbi are gonna try and get a ride with me too," he tells you.

"What about Jimin?"

"Oh, yeah," he nods. "Him too. That's like, a given, though. He's already shotgunned the front seat. Joon's gonna get the train,  I think. Said he and Hobes had spoken about catching the same one."

Nodding, you add, "Yeah, Hobes has already got his ticket sorted. He's always at that bloody tennis club with Joon these days. Think he might have a crush."

"Really?!" Jeongguk exclaims with such vigour the table beside you gawks over at you both again.

Laughing, you hush him. "Maybe. Never really seen them together, but he did ask me if I've ever noticed how good Joon's thighs are the other day."

"He has got really good thighs," Jeongguk laments with a little envy. Seems like as much as he works out, he can never reach the same levels of muscle ass on his own legs. "Understandable."

"Can't say I've ever noticed."

"You must be blind."

That, or just always too busy looking at Jeongguk's thighs instead.

Even though they're tucked neatly beneath the table, you still glance down at his lap, reminded of just how much you like his thighs - and how much he liked you on them in the janitor's closet at Taehyung's art show.

"Eyes. Up."

"Oh my god," you whine, cheeks flaming. "I wasn't looking at them like that ."

"Is it the suit?" He questions, genuine curiosity brimming on the very edges of his jovial teasing. It's been a while since he's seen you this unable to visibly control yourself. Too long, he thinks. Selfishly, he quite enjoys it when it's like this. Like you a little loopy for him. "Is that what's getting you all hot and bothered, huh?"

"I'm a perfectly normal temperature."

"You're sweating," he lies. "Burning up for me, baby."

"Is that a Jonas Brothers reference?" You question, equal parts bemused and frustrated with how much he likes to fuck around with you like this.

"I'm a man of culture, Byeol."

"You're a twat."

"Yeah, that too."

Rolling your eyes, you decide that you don't wanna let the conversation derail yet again. Take charge of the direction it goes in.

"So tell me more about your meeting. How'd that go? When will you hear about the loan?"

"Yeah, really well," he says and gets into the specifics. Tells you all about the loan process, how his business plan was barely even looked at despite all of his hard work, and how uncertain he still is.

"You'll be fine," you promise him. "One step closer to the big dream."

Nodding, he's apprehensive. Tries not to let it show. "One step closer."

Walking into your room, anyone would be forgiven for thinking you're packing for three months - not three nights.

"Why is this even up for debate?!" Jeongguk laughs, holding up the skimpiest bikini he thinks he's ever seen. "We're not going swimming in the sea. It'll be bloody freezing."

"Okay, firstly - you're not swimming in the sea. I'll do whatever I like, thank you very much. And secondly, haven't you looked at the listing?" You assert. "Seoyeon sent it over a few days ago."

Opening up his phone, Jeongguk scrolls through the group chat, which has received easily a hundred messages since then. He's awful at checking it. Always finds out the important details from you or Jimin, anyways.

Scrolling through the pictures, it's the first time Jeongguk is properly looking at it. Had agreed to whatever the happy couple had suggested, and just wired the money through for his share of the weekend rent - after all, it's their celebration, not his. Will happily do whatever they want, and plans on spending the weekend in a permanent state of ' yes '.

A large white pension house, it overlooks the coast and has a pathway that directly leads down to a small cove. With two extra buildings, there are enough rooms to comfortably sleep you all, even if some will be sharing. 

It has everything you could need for a weekend away with friends - an outside deck with a large barbecue, a ping pong table you know full well be used for beer pong, sofas that look like they can easily fit a football team on them and a hot tub in the corner of that outside deck. You dread to think of what men like Jimin would get up to in it, but thankfully there's no one here this weekend he can put his moves on.

Looking at the bikini still in his grasp, he comes to realise why it was in your pile of potentials - and stupidly, all he can think of is the fact he absolutely does not want to give any of his friends reasons to stare. Knows they inevitably will. Knows that if the pair of you were established as more than what you are, he'd revel in it. Would be so incredibly proud.

And yet he doesn't want any of the single boys thinking about you in the same way that he does. Doesn't want them to have any reason to put moves on you.

Still, you're your own person, and he knows better than to ever try and tell you what you should or shouldn't wear - so he just tosses it into the small suitcase you're packing.

Is a little bit mopey and pathetic as he says, "The boys will be drooling."

Raising your brow, you question, "Is that an issue?"

"No issue," he lies, then flops onto his back, head landing on a pile of your pillows. He smirks. "We both know I'm the only one you'll be drooling over, so it's fine. Let them look."

"God, your ego will be the death of you."

He doesn't reply. Knows you'll be the death of him, instead, and kind of loves this reality.

The rest of the evening trawls on, and your suitcase is packed and unpacked - according to Jeongguk - a 'gazillion' times. Eventually, fed up with your own indecision, you'd said, "I can't be arsed. Pack for me."

And so he had. In lightning speed, Jeongguk had enough clothes gathered for the weekend and your toiletries all zipped up into a small bag. In true Virgo fashion, he'd folded them all needed and organised your suitcase like a display unit at an upscale department store.

When you reach over to question one of his shirt choices, he taps your hand away. "Nope. You're done. You can't spend another fourteen years packing."

"I could give it a good try."

"Byeol," he whines. "You won't get a better configuration than this. Don't try it."

He also doesn't want you to take out a few of the things he's snuck in there, either. Your bikini is in plain sight, so you know that he has at least packed that.

"Fine," you sigh, flipping the lid of the suitcase over to zip it up. He really has done a stellar job, and you know you shouldn't, but you actually find his efficiency kinda hot, in a strange sort of way. Just shows his competency. Makes you think he'd be useful to keep around. Good with a drill. Good with a screw - but you knew that already. "You all packed?"

He raises a brow as he reclines into a more comfortable position on your bed. "Is that even a real question?"

Those narrow eyes of yours come back, and Jeongguk watches as you scan your bed for something to throw at him. His eyes reach your My Melody plushie a fraction of a section before yours do - and so he lunges for it, narrowly beating you.

The speed at which you both reach for it causes you to stumble a little onto your bed. Jeongguk holds the My Melody above his head as he sits up straight against the headrest, and on his face is the cheesiest grin you've ever seen. It's so bright that you almost miss the way his lip ring is doing that godforsaken thing once more.

He challenges you in the way he raises his brows, as if to say, "Come and get it."

And who are you to refuse a challenge?

It's clockwork the way in which you two tussle around. It's gentle and childish. You're giggly, and so is he. He could pin you down easily; restrain you in a way he's done before.

And yet he doesn't.

He lets you win, because letting you win also means having you on his lap - and he's sorely missed that. Missed you. Missed the feeling that comes with pretending like you're more than what you are.

A win for you is a win for him.

With My Melody in your hands, Jeongguk's hands come to find their place on your waist.

"Got it," you say quietly, and Jeongguk just hums. Nods. Pulls you further up his lap.

Leaning your forehead down to rest upon his, it's easy to forget the boundaries you've set in place. Hard to remember how to be responsible.

Nudging his nose up against yours, Jeongguk can't help but let himself slip back into old habits. Bad habits. Ones he should have kicked ages ago.

And yet he lets his lips ghost yours. Aligns his between yours. Tightens his grip on your hips and gently rocks you. Whispers a hushed moan. Takes a second to pause. Think about what he's doing. Assess whether or not it's a recipe for disaster.

Resting his forehead against yours, he shakes his head. Goes to speak - and then, against his better judgement, presses a chaste kiss to your lips. It's teeny tiny. Delicate. Too little and yet too much all in the same fleeting touch; like a shooting star not shining for long enough to make a wish upon.

"C'mon," he whispers against your lips. "We can't be doing this. Not now."

"I'm not doing anything," you whisper right back, as if your hips aren't languidly grinding against him. " You're the one with a boner."

"And you're the encouraging it," he says, as if he wasn't the one to get you positioned over his cock. "We've been doing so well. Let's not fuck it up."

Part of you wants to fuck it up, though.

"Say the word," you tell him, knowing that you need him to be the strong one.

"B," he says a little breathlessly, swallowing down the syllable.

"Say the word."

Jeongguk shakes his head. Sounds guilty as he admits, "I don't want to."

God , he just makes it so hard to resist.

"We've got an early start tomorrow," you contemplate out loud. "Maybe you should get going."

"Maybe I should," he agrees - but then hurriedly changes his mind. "Fuck it. No. I don't wanna go."

"No?" You ask with a soft smile on your lips. It's taking everything in him not to kiss you right now. Ha to physically hold himself a little further back.

"No," he husks. Is all raspy and needy, obsessed with how it feels to have you in a position like this. He'd wait a lifetime, he thinks - but is also impatient. Wants you now. "I wanna stay. Wanna make you cum."

Ooft . It's bold statements like those - the crude , the vulgar , the indecent - that always drive you a little wild. Jeongguk will touch you so tenderly, as if he's scared of leaving a single mark on your skin, and yet whispers words that will forever warp your sense of desire.

"That's not very friendly," you say, stroking your hands through his hair, still fascinated by the new length.

"Yeah, it is. It's like, so kind," he assures you. " So friendly."

With a bemused smile, you remind him of his desire to leave. "Were you not just saying you had to go?"

Closing his eyes, Jeongguk lets his head tip back, his pretty neck exposed, Adam's apple just begging for a little kiss. You refuse.

"You're right," he groans. "Fuck. Yeah. Sorry. Shit. Get off me, you temptress."

Laughing at his ridiculous wording, you do as you're told. It's tender, the way Jeongguk lets you go, but keeps hands loosely on your body until you're out of reach.

"Do us both a favour," Jeongguk says nonchalantly, reaching over your bedside table for the trinket box that houses things a 'friend' really shouldn't know about. He opens it up, and you watch on in suspended disbelief - which only tenfolds when he pulls out your fucking vibrator, and then chucks it at you. "Take this with you."

Barely managing to catch it, you stammer out a collection of high-pitched noises that mean nothing and everything all at once.

"Okay, one," you hiss, eyes wide, shock evident. "You don't just go into a girl's private things like that-"

"I've been in your private thing loads."

"Jeongguk, that is not what I mean. I said things, not thing ."

"Yeah? I've seen 'em all. Been in a couple. Plural. Things."

"Gguk," you laugh now - and then remember you're holding a fucking rabbit . The black silicone is a demure upgrade from your last one, but how demure can a dick-shaped vibrator with a pair of bunny ears be? Tossing it down on your bed, it lands with a thud - and that's how Jeongguk knows it must be fucking powerful. "I'm not taking a vibrator on a trip with all of our friends."

"Do I need to remind you that you were gonna walk around in front of our friends with my cum in yo-"

"Stop!" You cringe. Whine as you throw your head back. "God, we're disgusting ."

"Yeah," he admits. Smirks. "Was kinda hot, though."

Shameless , you think - then wonder if he's always been like this; if Hayun got this side of him.

Thing is, when Jeongguk had been sleeping with Hayun, he'd been trying so hard to be perfect . The perfect gent, the perfect concept of a boy she could grow to love. For a while, it had seemed to work. So intent on being pristine, he kept their sex life equally as perfect. Would never be vulgar without purpose.

He steps into a realm that goes beyond his past experiences with you. His confidence fools you into a false understanding of his experience, but he'd got every reason to be confident with you. The sex only seems to get better and better. The riskier he gets, the bigger the reward. It's a recipe for disaster. A bad decision waiting to happen.

This is probably why cooling things off is a good decision. He was one step away from exhibitionism. Is taking things too far.

Fails to realise that maybe he wants to be caught. Wants people to know you fuck, because it's the only way he can mark his territory. Primal instincts. The same type that gets him spitting on your cunt, lips wrapping around your nipples, cock fucking into you at any given opportunity. He desperately wants to belong to you.

It's not a case of him being possessive, no. It's a case of him wanting to be possessed by you.

But these are dangerous things to think about when he's supposed to be cooling things off.

So instead, he simply says, "Take it with you. Please ."

"Why?" you question, because you're never gonna easily agree with him.

"'Cause I need you to not try it on with me," Jeongguk almost pleads. "Need you to be satisfied."

Funny how he thinks a dildo is capable of that. The only reason you upgraded was because the last one didn't cut it anymore. This one... yeah, this one is better, but it still isn't good enough.

But you're a dickhead in the best of times, and Jeongguk is never gonna get a serious answer from you.

"I'll just go to Jimin's room."

Jeongguk doesn't even crack a smile.

"No, you won't."

"Done it before-"

"You're not doing it again."

"Why not?" you pout, reaching back down for the vibrator. The way you hold it isn't necessarily obscene, but it is suggestive - and it makes Jeongguk's semi so painfully hard. One of his hands comes to his lap, as if to hide it, but it's no use. You can read his body like a book. Know exactly which chapter you're on. "I could just go to his room instead of yours when I'm horny?"

"What's the use? You'll leave just as horny as you went in."

"That's so mean."

He smirks. "Okay, but is it a lie?"

You don't dignify him with a response, instead opting to shoo him out of your apartment, with the promise of him getting to yours bright and early the next morning. Taehyung will be staying at your place with Danbi, to make it easier for Jeongguk, and all things considered, it's a well-set plan. No issues.

Or at least no issues until he arrives to find out that if he considers you not a light packer, then Danbi must be a heavyweight packer.

"We're going for three nights!" Jeongguk says in disbelief, when he's greeted with a full-size suitcase and a carry-on - not to mention the two tote bags over her shoulders.

"Okay?" Danbi says with the straightest face known to man. Part of you thinks she's just testing him, but the rest of you has known her for far too long. She really is a terrible packer. "And?"

Taehyung just has a leather duffel bag over his shoulder and an apologetic 'I tried telling her' look on his face.

Jeongguk stands still for a moment. Stares. Looks as if he's about to protest until, eventually, he just relents. "Fine - but I'm gonna have to reconfigure things."

You have to bite your tongue. Stop it from declaring how sexy it is when he talks efficiently. Oh, who are you?! One pregnancy scare and you're thinking about him in DILF capacities - but then he's rearranging the luggage, and the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his skin like fucking art, and - Oh, God. Pull yourself together!

The weekend will be a certified disaster if you don't get a grip on your brain and realign it. Jeongguk is your best friend. An idiot. A sexy idiot, granted, but still an idiot. You just wish he was wearing a jacket or something.

So busy looking at his arms, unable to form any words or offer any help, you're transfixed as you hear your name.

"Byeol?"

"Hmm?" You snap your focus up to his face, and are thankful you're not fucking drooling.

Too concerned with the luggage debacle, Jeongguk doesn't really notice the way you've been ogling.

"Will you be alright with bags by your feet?"

"Yeah," you nod. Your parents had always popped bags by your feet when you were younger, as you often travelled with your dog, giving him all the boot space. Squeezing yourself in is second nature. "No bother."

"Alright," he nods appreciatively, then taps on the passenger door. Jimin's napping, and Jeongguk had chosen not to wake him, knowing the car will likely be full of chatter when the three of you join the ride.

Waking with a startle, Jimin's clutching his heart when he gets out of the car. "Thought I was dying."

"You might be soon," Jeongguk grimaces, which earns an immediate wail from Jimin.

"No!" He asserts, knowing what is about to be asked of him. "Gguk, you promised ."

"I know, but I didn't expect there to be so much luggage!"

Jimin scowls in the direction of you three, who admittedly are standing there looking like guilty schoolchildren - even if it is just Danbi who has caused the conundrum.

"It's not a long drive," Jeongguk tries to reason with him. "And I'll pay for your snacks when we stop at a service station. Please, just sit in the back."

After a little more huffing and puffing, Jimin reluctantly agrees - but as an act of silent protest towards Danbi and Taehyung, he decides that he's having the middle seat. If he has to third-wheel, he's doing it on his own terms.

Eventually, you're crammed into the passenger seat with yours and Jeongguk's luggage, and a crate of beers on your lap.

"You good?" Jeongguk asks quietly as he starts the car up.

"All good," you nod as Jeongguk passes the cable for the aux over to you.

"Hold on, DB," Jimin says. "Made a playlist. I'll send you the link."

He really does take his shotgun duties seriously, and so you feel bad for getting his spot.

In all honesty, Jeongguk would have preferred you in the back. Would have liked glancing in his rearview mirror to see your disco balls eyes from time to time. Still, there's a comfort that comes with having you so close. Fears your glitter catching in the early morning light could be a distraction. Decides it's a fear he doesn't mind facing.

The drive is as smooth as you'd expect; mindless chatter, stupid games, and a soundtrack worthy of a montage in a cliche chick-flick. Jimin really did do a great job with the playlist, and, at times, Jeongguk's car becomes its very own noraebang.

You're nearly three-quarters of the way there when Jeongguk eventually turns off and heads into a service station. Doesn't need fuel for his car, but he can definitely do with fuel for his tummy.

Placing his hand on your back, Jeongguk gets your attention while you head towards the food court.

"Just gotta take this," he says, holding up his phone to show you an incoming call.

Nodding, you ask, "Want me to get you anything?"

"Surprise me."

"Will do."

Catching up with your friends, you're pleased to see the service station is just as you'd been expecting - a few stalls of snack foods, a couple of shops filled with tat for last-minute gifts and a little CU. The smell of hot oil and gasoline wafts around the place, wrapping you up in a certain nostalgia.

"Watcha getting?" Danbi asks.

"Not sure," you muse, looking at the menu above the canteen-style dining area. It's small, only about thirty or so seats, but it's quickly filling up as people seek refuge from the fine droplets of rain that have begun to pitter-patter down.

"Where's Gguk?" Jimin asks no one in particular.

Glancing over your shoulder to the entrance, you spot Jeongguk still on his call, pacing slightly. He's not seeking cover from the rain, eyes hard as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line. Chewing down on his bottom lip, there's an uncertainty to his typically confident posture.

"On a call," you simply say, still observing him. Tension builds between his brows as he says something you can't decipher, before he turns away from your direction and continues pacing in laps with little regard for the weather. "Not sure who with."

It's another five minutes before he rejoins you, and when you ask him who was on the phone, he asks you what you've ordered, instead.

"Chicken," you tell him, eyes a little sleepy from the early start, not pushing on the ignored question. "Didn't really fancy anything else."

"You get me chicken, too?" He asks softly, rubbing your back as he stands a little closer beside you. Arm looping around his waist, you use his chest as a makeshift pillow for a moment or so.

"Mhmm. Figured we'd share."

"Sounds good to me," he says.

Eyes closed, you're unaware his sweet voice is paired with an incredibly rude middle finger, which is currently being held up towards Jimin and his shit-eating grin.

Cheeks chubby with the hotdog he's chowing down on, Jimin will always be the biggest supporter of Jeongguk being interested in, well, anyone other than Hayun.

The fact that it seems to be you?

Just makes it even better for him. Mainly because there's an endless supply of jokes he can make about him having you first, but also because he knows how deeply you care for Jeongguk. Thinks that his best friend deserves someone who gives a shit. Hopes that whatever the fuck is going on between you will sort itself out, sooner rather than later.

It's for this reason Jimin is so pleased that Hayun will only be on the trip for the final night.

She's currently back in Seoul for a job interview. Seoyeon had been a little disappointed when the schedules had clashed, but knew that it was important for her friend. She'd been desperately trying to find a job back in the capital city, and this was the first tangible shot in months.

Yoongi, on the other hand, had been quietly thrilled. Has no time for Hayun and her bullshit. Is just glad that other people seem to be wising up to the fact she is the way that she is. Has never really been a fan of her, and hopes that with time, Seoyeon will also distance herself. He'll never dictate her choices, though. It's something she'll have to learn to realise herself.

Food consumed, an appropriate amount of money wasted on the coin-operated gachapon machines, and a photo booth picture of the five of you crammed into a tiny passport-style booth taken, you head on your way again.

The drive takes far less time than you expect, and before you know it, you're all claiming to have been the first to see the sea. In all reality, it was Jeongguk who saw it first, but he lets you have your fun.

Dressed in white as she comes to greet you, Seoyeon is every bit the fairy princess bride-to-be. Her hair is delicately waved with teeny tiny plaits running through it. She too sports a little glitter on her eyes, but not half as much as you and it makes you consider altering your routine - but you know you never will.

"Gguk," Yoongi calls for Jeongguk's attention just as you finish unloading the car. "Sorry, I know you've been driving for a while but Joon and Hobi are at the station and the crappy weather is making it hard to get a taxi. Could you-"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure." Jeongguk nods, the start of his 'yes' weekend beginning. There's not a single thing that will be asked of him that he'll deny. Will do all he can to make things easier for other people, even if it does inconvenience him a little bit.

Car keys still in his hand, he holds them up and looks across to you. "Coming with?"

Shaking your head with a warm smile, you're appreciative of the invite, but you don't want to dip as soon as you arrive. The station is no more than a fifteen-minute drive, twenty tops, and given his face of thunder earlier, you think perhaps it'll be good for him to have some time to breathe.

"I'll make sure you get a good room," you promise instead, and he seems to appreciate this.

Waving a goodbye to everyone, Jeongguk heads off alone, while you take his and your bags in.

"You not going with him?" Seoyeon chirps as you take back one of the suitcases she's just claimed.

"Stop with the helping," you laugh. "It's your weekend. Should be relaxing. And nah, he can survive without me for a little bit."

"I hate feeling useless," she insists, and hoists Jeongguk's bag over her shoulder. Wobbles slightly, due to it being deceptively heavy, but she also seemingly has the core strength of a Goddess with how easily she balances herself. "Where are we taking these? Where are you guys staying?"

"Oh, we're not sharing," you say rather quickly. "Unless we need to, for space?"

Shaking her head, Seoyeon explains, "Oh, no. I just assumed you were. Danbi and Tae are sharing, Hayun will stay with Nabi when she gets here, so there's enough room for you and Jeongguk to have your own rooms. I mean, if that's what you want."

There's a subtle suggestion in her tone; permission, almost. You can stay with Jeongguk.

But instead, you double down.

"No, it's fine. Would probably be a bit weird, wouldn't it?"

Seoyeon smiles but keeps quiet as you head towards the second house, which is just off from the main building. Two rooms downstairs, and two rooms upstairs, it's the one you like the most when you saw the listing. Jimin's already nabbed one of the upstairs rooms, and you want the other one.

"Drop Jeongguk's bag here," you tell Seoyeon as you enter the house. "He'll be downstairs, and I'll be up."

"Sure thing," she smiles and she does as she's told, while also wondering if you'll be the one sneaking downstairs, or if he'll be the one sneaking upstairs.

Seoyeon leaves you to get yourself adjusted, and you're thankful for it. You know the weekend is gonna be full on when it comes to socialising, as much as you adore everyone coming (well, almost everyone), you know you'll be exhausted by the end of it.

It's partially why you insisted that Jeongguk retrieve the boys alone. He needs his space just as much as you do, and will probably need a final few moments of peace and quiet before the chaos that will surely unfold when everyone is reunited.

The room you're in is well-sized. Not huge, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it needn't be. What matters is the view - and it's the exact same reason Jimin chose the room across the hallway. A wide window takes up most of the wall that faces the coast, and in it pours the most gorgeous view you think you've ever seen.

An endless cerulean sea stretches in front of you. On the southeast coast of the country, you know that Dokdo lies not too far on the horizon. Ulleungdo, too. Both are obscure to you right now, the mist of a rainy haze rending everything beyond a mile or so into nothingness.

As you stare out of the window in a state of awe, you hear the soft vibration of your phone, and drag your eyes away. All pale wood and white fabrics, the furniture and bedding are pristine. A far cry from the clutter and mayhem of your and Danbi's apartment. Reminds you of Jimin and his minimalist tendencies. Must be living the dream over in his room.

Picking up your phone, you're surprised to see a notification for a voice note from Jeongguk. Flopping down onto the bed, you hesitate a little before pressing play.

"Hey, B," Jeongguk's voice echoes around you. Comforting, like the warmth of a blanket or the scent of freshly baked cookies, it's nice to hear his voice even if you only saw him about ten minutes ago. Laying your phone on your chest, it's as if he never left. 

"I know you're gonna ask about the call, but I don't wanna talk about it this weekend. There's just a hold-up with some of the bank stuff." You frown upon hearing this. Wonder what on Earth could possibly be wrong, knowing how hard Jeongguk had worked for it all. "That's all. No biggie. Was just thinking about it, so yeah. Thought I'd just let you know. Nearly at the station, so will be home soon. That's all. Okay. Bye-bye."

The cuteness of his sign-off fails to negate the heaviness of the rest of the message. It had obviously been dwelling on his mind, but also proves that letting him drive alone to process his thoughts was the right call. His choice to send a voice note was deliberate. He didn't want to engage in conversation, but he did want you to know - and you appreciate that more than you think you'll ever be able to convey.

Being invited into Jeongguk's mind, free of charge, with no expectation to invite him into yours is an honour. Proof of how he values you. An action that speaks louder than words.

You send him a quick text - "thanks for letting me know. got u a dreamy room, ur welcome x" - and then head back over to the main house. Rain drizzles down on you, but you don't mind. The rains are welcome after such a dry winter. Like the cutting of Jeongguk's hair, and the purchase of a brand new liquid glitter, they feel like the start of something new.

"I hear we're roomies," Jimin beams as you walk into the large, open-plan kitchen. There's a table big enough for a small country just in front of the kitchen area. To the right, through a large open arch is the sitting room. Designed for socialising, Seoyeon and Yoongi really did pick the best place.

"Housemates," you correct. "Jeongguk's in there too - who's got the fourth room?"

Sitting at the table, dressed casually but looking ever so beautiful, Nabi raises her hand. "You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

"PARTY HOUUUSE," Jimin cheers, raising the beer he's already nursing, which makes you roll your eyes - but you can't help but laugh. He's ridiculous, yes, but he is fun - and he's also probably right. You first bonded with him over drinks, met Jeongguk at the bar of Dionysus and didn't warm up to Nabi until a very spirited game of beer pong. You likely will be the ones drinking all night and waking a little worse for wear the next morning.

Yoongi smirks like the cat who got the cream. "I love it when a plan comes together."

"Hmm?" you chirp, but Jimin is far more direct.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Seoyeon stands beside Yoongi and rubs his back tenderly with a smile on her pretty lips. The peach blush on her cheeks is so delicate and befitting of who she is, that when her eyes shine with a glint of mischief you can't help but understand exactly why Yoongi is so smitten.

"We might have lured all the party people to the same house," she admits - but she's quick to defend herself when she notices the feigned offence on all of your faces. "But hey, it's perfect! We can go to bed whenever we need to, and you guys can keep the party going!"

"We're too old for your shenanigans," Yoongi assures you. "About to be a married couple-"

"Gross," Jimin adds.

"So we're not as young and reckless as you young'uns."

"Yoongi, you guys are literally only a couple of years older," you laugh.

"You're a pair of sneaky bastards," Nabi tells them with a smile. "You're lucky I love you both."

In all reality, there's no offence to be taken. It really is the perfect scenario. You're not surprised that it's something they thought of ahead of time.

Everything for this weekend has, to a certain extent, been well prepared - though not by the happy couple. Assigned partners, you've all been tasked with planning an activity for the weekend.

Seoyeon and Yoongi had assigned themself the 'greeting party', of which this is, and is also why Yoongi is cosplaying Jeongguk as he serves mimosas to everyone who walks through the door. He's not a bad bartender - but he'll never be your favourite.

Taehyung and Danbi have been paired together, and will be guiding you to a certain death this afternoon.

Your activity partner is Namjoon, and you half suspect it was another deliberate ploy from Yoongi and Seoyeon to get you more acquainted with him.

Out of all of the boys, he's the one you know the least well, so it's been fun trying to plan an activity with him. Has been nice getting to know him in a way that doesn't feel forced - even though you know it entirely is.

Tonight, you'll become hosts of the most extravagant tipsy bingo ever known to man.

Both creative in your own ways, Namjoon is probably the best partner you could have had for your big vision. He's good with words, while you're good with making things look... well, ridiculous. There's a box by the front door addressed to Namjoon that he had had the genius idea of sending up beforehand. It's filled to the brim with props and decor and honestly, you can't wait.

Tomorrow morning, you'll no doubt be nursing murderous hangovers, which is where Jimin and Nabi step in. You don't know much about their plans, but you have heard the words 'Olympic' 'limbo' and 'sick bucket' mumbled between them during failed attempts at secrecy. You dread to imagine what they have in store for you.

Jeongguk has been paired with Hoseok, but they utterly refuse to share their plans with you in a capacity. It's been driving you insane - and they've both been revelling in it. Their activity is planned for the penultimate day.

As Hayun is arriving late, she's got the responsibility of the final morning, and has told everyone in the group to pack a pair of sensible shoes. You almost didn't bring any just to be a little bitch - but this weekend isn't about you. You're playing nicely, whether you like it or not.

The arrival of Jeongguk with Hoseok and Namjoon in tow is met with an overwhelmingly fond cheer. They all look slightly embarrassed by the display, but they are also the only ones without alcohol in their system.

Mimosa in hand, Jeongguk comes to greet you personally after the general hellos.

"I swear to God, if you've put me in a basement room-"

"Shut up," you laugh, tapping his arm fondly. Standing a small distance away from the group, it may as well be just the two of you in the room. Everyone else just fades into the abyss. Hardly a surprise, when he's got eyes like black holes that are intent on swallowing up every single one of your stars. "We're in the second house. Nabi and Jimin are with us."

"Hmm?" He chirps, not aware of the layout. "We're all in the same room?"

"No! No, different rooms. There are four rooms. Think Hayun will be joining Nabi on the last night."

Nodding, Jeongguk takes a hefty swig of his mimosa. Needs it to swallow down that information. "And you decided that's where we should sleep?"

Smiling as if she's never phased you, all you do is shrug. "Mhhm. Problem?"

He sticks his bottom lip and shakes his head. Reaches over to mess with the long bangs that frame your face, ruffling them out of position. "Fine with me if it's fine with you."

"Well, yanno," you begin to tease as you knock your fringe back into place. "I'm just across the hallway from Jimin. Easy access."

All very suddenly, Jeongguk's eyes get a little darker. His laugh, a little more sinful. He reaches over again, just to mess your hair up. Almost fucking growls as he says, "Don't you even fuckin' think about it."

His stare lingers for a second longer than it really should, but he's surprised to see you just smirking in response to his command.

"What if I already am thinking about it?" you tease quietly.

Jeongguk looks like he's ready to drag you into the second house and fucking nail you against the front door. Looks just as hungry as he normally does when you're naked. Breathes out a stunted laugh. Shakes his head. Is about to speak, when Yoongi called his name.

"Gguk, can you do the gim-mari? My hands are full."

Closing his eyes, Jeongguk takes a deep breath. "Behave yourself this weekend."

You watch as he walks away to help fry up the seaweed rolls, satisfied with yourself for getting under his skin so spectacularly.

He's dressed down - dark sweats, big white shirt with a silky black baseball jersey layered over the top of it. Lotte Giants, of course. Reminds you of how easy it was to get him keen on the weekend in Busan. You really shouldn't thrive on riling him up so much - but it's just so much fun . Hard not to do.

There's not much time to dwindle on silly little thoughts like these, because as soon as you've finished eating, Taehyung and Danbi are shooing everyone of the main house and down towards the front gate.

Their activity, you discover as you all get out of the taxis they had ordered for you, is laser tag at a local party place, of which you're certain almost exclusively caters towards children.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Jimin moans as the assigned teams are getting into formation on opposite sides of the room. He lifts an accusing finger, and turns to the couple who has organised the whole event. "Who did this? Danbi? It was you, wasn't it?"

Her eyes are wide, and her lips are just as pouty as the accusation is correct.

Shrugging, a smirk breaches her sincere expression. "What's wrong? Scared you'll lose?"

"Scared?!" Jimin shrieks. "Danbi, this is a suicide mission."

It's not.

It's laser tag.

But Jimin is right in thinking that he'll lose, given the frankly dire state of his team.

He's on Team Purple, captained by Taehyung, who is currently sitting and smiling adoringly at the rival captain. Jimin's new arch nemesis. Or just simply, Danbi.

The rest of the team is made up of yourself, Hoseok and Seoyeon.

Standing at the helm of Team Green is Danbi. Behind her is Jeongguk, caught up in conversation with Nabi and Namjoon, while Yoongi adjusts the strap of his laser gun.

It's not a fair fight. You know this. Doesn't mean you're not gonna act offended.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" You tut, voice an octave higher than usual. "We've just as much chance of win-"

"They have Jeongguk," Jimin deadpans.

Even you can't argue against that.

"So? We've got youth, good looks, and luck on our side," you tell Jimin. "If you don't believe in yourself, then how do you expect to even stand a chance? Pull yourself together, man!"

From across the room, Jeongguk appears to be engaged in conversation, but the way he accidentally slips a laugh out at the end of your sentence gives him away. You glance in his direction, but find him looking away, hand scratching at the back of his head. He's not slick in the slightest, but he is cute. You'll give him that much.

Teams assigned, safety briefing done - with Jimin mumbling about the way he'll break each and every protocol to win - all that's left is to battle it out to the death.

Or until one of the teams loses. Same difference.

The shrouded darkness of the tag course isn't too dissimilar from Dionysus, and has a familiar intrusive scent of artificial smoke. It obscures the lights, but is quickly wafting away through the vent so as to not interrupt gameplay. Huddled around your home base, Team Purple needs all the morale it can get.

"Gguk's gonna be on the attack," Taehyung theorises. "Danbi will be floating midway - she won't want to attack but she also doesn't wanna be a lemon guarding their base. I think Joon will be their guard."

Seoyeon hums in agreement, stripes of neon face paint on her cheeks as if she's really going into combat. "What Yoongi lacks in height he makes up for in speed. He'll be attack too."

"And Nabi?" You ask. She seems to be the only unpredictable force for the Greens.

"Honestly not a-"

Taehyung's pondering is interrupted by a booming voice through the loudspeaker. "THREE."

"Fuck!"

Stupidly spending too much time contemplating Team Green's tactics has prevented Team Purple from planning anything.

"Shit," Jimin hisses.

"Seoyeon, guard - if Yoongi gets here-"

"TWO."

"- you distract him. I'll find Danbi. Hobes, DB... Just like, try not to die."

"ONE."

"Jimin, you're on attack."

" Fuck !"

You should really anticipate the way Hoseok starts flailing, and yet it still takes you by surprise just quite how loudly he screams. He has no rhyme, no reason as he runs into the maze of hidden spaces.

Taehyung curses. Looks over to you. "Whatever you do, just don't do that ."

"Roger that," you nod, retreating to a doorway that leads to the ramp up to the second story. Figuring vantage is needed, you head up there without much care. Team Green will still be over in their camp. You've enough time to take things at a leisurely pace; to figure out the blueprints. 

The layout is obscured by dozens of false walls and misleading hiding spots. There's a clear direct path into Green territory, and you spot Jimin scoping it out from another vantage spot below. Even despite the atmospheric music playing through the overhead speakers, nerves are so high it feels like a pin could drop.

Until, all rather suddenly, a gun is pressed to your back.

"Hey, B."

"Oh you motherfu-"

Before you can even finish, your vest is vibrating, the sound of a galactic gunshot echoing in the small space you're hidden in. The levels on your gun flash and dip for the first time. Across the main pathway, Hoseok is still screaming. There's no way you're winning this thing.

Twisting to face Jeongguk, you're met with his infuriatingly charming smile as his lip ring glistens in the selective lighting.

"How are you so quiet?!"

"You've been to my parent's house," he smirks, glancing down to check your levels are still flashing on your gun. Shrugging, he's quite clearly smug with his hit. "You know how thin the walls are. Learned to be light on my feet."

Unable to shoot back while you're still in 'recovery' mode, Jeongguk knows he has a little time to indulge in you. Makes the most of it.

"You know, you actually look really hot like this," he tells you, nodding at the combat gear. Gets a little closer. Clearly is still a little riled up from the way you'd teased him that morning. Taking a step back, you find yourself against the wall - which suits you fine. One less area of weakness. "Like, stupidly hot."

"You're fraternising with the enemy, Jeon," you whisper as he gets closer enough to nudge his nose up against yours. Jeongguk lets his laser gun fall slack over his shoulder. Has his hand beneath your jaw, thumb stroking up onto your cheek.

He nods. Brushes his lips against you as he husks, "That's kinda hot, too."

"Oh, c'mon," Yoongi whinges from the entryway in equal parts disgust and disappointment. He'd been expecting to find someone on the lookout, and also knew Jeongguk would likely have been on a similar route - he just didn't expect to find you two so bloody cosy. As his own hand slaps against his thigh, he's speechless. Just wails, "Really, Gguk?!"

Jeongguk doesn't wanna turn around. Can feel his cheeks flaming a shade so deep it could rival the red laser of his gun, which is currently pointing towards the floor.

A moment of weakness. A rarity.

One you'd be stupid to not indulge in.

You swiftly lean around Jeongguk. Whip your gun into position. Aim straight for Yoongi's chest and beam as brightly as a thousand suns when his vest begins to flash.

But you know Jeongguk has realised what you've done - and so at the speed of absolute lightning, you twist your gun back on itself and shoot at the target on Jeongguk's back. The vibrations ripple against you too, as both men curse you out, unable to get their own back while they're in 'recovery' mode.

Pulling yourself away from Jeongguk, you bolt for the entryway Jeongguk must have come from. "Bye, boys!"

You beeline straight for your home base, as you know that's where they'll be off to next. Seoyeon's still in position. Aims for you, until she realises you're on her team.

"Oh my god," she exclaims, and it sounds as if she's been holding her breath for hours. "I've been so scared. You never know who's gonna come round the corner!"

Nodding, you come to stand by her. "Gguk and Yoongi are upstairs. I got them both. Think they're gonna be looking for revenge."

And as you feel your vest vibrate with no indication of where a shot came from, you're proven right. Seoyeon chirps in surprise as her vest does the same.

"You bastard," you grin as Jeongguk walks into frame, and leans against a partition wall with all the casual arrogance you'd expect from him.

"Don't hate the player, baby. Hate the game."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[southernreaches]

tagged by @arisatominakos to do this lil poll...!!

pick your favourite ship featuring at least one oc of mine :3 i am literally only including my two primary afhiri ships because i think this is a fucking war because i have friends who rlly don't like one and adore the other and theres some clear bias shit going on so I WILL MAKE THEM FIGHT. under the read more is some info about both ships and the characters :) candor is ofc another oc of mine and gale is. mr dekarios

i will not be tagging anyone because this kind of embarrasses me.... LDKSJFSDF wait i lie i tag @aeducanthaig @roseeway i know who null will vote for actually... IF YOU WANNA DO THIS CONSIDER URSELF TAGGED PLEASE!!!!! this is such a good idea i'm just a twit

afhiri is my sweet lil bardic clown tiefling that i feel like everyone who follows me knows intimately by now SL;DFKSDF ... if you don't know much about afhiri.... afhiri is very silly and very sweet, uneducated and purposefully pretends to be much more immature and childish than they actually are because they are quite literally trying to relive their childhood that was stolen from them! they don't like responsibility or emotional conflict! they do like to sing and dance and have fun :3

candor is a solar angel who acts as a steward and avatar for lathander and is very calm and collected .. stern, sotic, quite dry and humourless.... is undergoing a self imposed exile because it feels like it failed lathander (it literally didnt). believes wholly in honour and duty and justice, is absolutely full to the brime with affection and love and shows it wholly through loyal devotion and service .

candor finds afhiri during the exile and decides to protect her from herself (and her wild magic) . candor fully believes they are soulmates and when candor was created at the beginning of the universe it was created with a missing piece, and that afhiri is that piece ..... also candor is 10ft tall and afhiri is 5ft tall so like. :) they are extremely gentle and sweet together. afhiri is not a calm person at all and is quite against anything that tries to get her to be srs at any amounts cuz it frightens them. but candor is different. candor threatens everything afhiri is trying to build (running away from themselves and what they were forced to become for their family) but afhiri doesn't run from candor.... it is security, it is safety. it is ok to be their entire self around candor. candor leaves at the end of the game feeling worthy of returning to lathanders side, and promises afhiri that when she dies, it will guide her through the upper planes and they will spend eternity together

afhiri x gale is super funny to me i rewrote canon a bit with it so picture this . wyll and karlach are partners in my canon, and afhiri is acting as a sort of replacement for karlach in intimacy between the couple . gale sees this as afhiri being a third partner in the relationship and grows jealous because he likes afhiri and believes he could be better for her so the act 2 scene is him confessing his feelings and asking for her to give him a chance because he knows they'll create beautiful magic together.. and afhiri laughs in his face cuz she's just fwb with them man. god gale ur so silly. i like silly. mwah mwah anyway that's how that relationship starts. i like afhiri x gale because to me its about keeping gale young... she is fun and full of energy and life and gale has kept himself locked away for a year to wither and wilt and afhiri is a burning sun who makes him feel alive ... this relationship ends up quite toxic however, a certain event happens that causes gale to kill afhiri (and candor gets involved its a whole drama) and gale feels so much guilt and fear at the realisation of death separating them that they have limited time hes back on his god bullshit ^_^ though it's not all bad. in my canon afhiri and gale ascend together and candor and afhiri are reunited in the upper planes but its a bit different :) (candor isnt happy, but devoted itself to afhiri instead of lathander all the same) .

as u can see afhiri x candor and afhiri x gale has quite a lot of overlapping and theres some poly stuff going on here i could talk about it forever.....

[fairuzfan]

It’s “vote blue no matter who” but then you get Dems like Kyrsten Sinema, Joe Manchin, and John Fetterman or people like Tricia Cotham and Jeff Van Drew who switched parties and then it’s every excuse in the book as to why Dems can’t get shit done and just “vote harder.”

Dems did know that embracing disenchanted conservatives would push the party further right, and that’s precisely why centrists and the upper middle class liberals were all so excited to join ranks with “never Trump” republicans.

The issue is that voting is great and all in theory. Some of my family is residing in a country where you can't vote so like, having a say in your government?! That's great!

But I don't *really* have a say in my government when all the standard forms of calling and emailing are being flat out ignored. Sure I voted. But now what. Fetterman is a racist asshole that pretended to be "on the side of the oppressed" to get his position. Sinema is.... like that. Manchin is annoying as hell. And what, you're telling me "just wait til next election and they'll be gone"? Like at what point will this endless spiral of "it could be worse" honestly start benefiting anyone.

And people are saying "join unions or organize" as some sort of gotcha... Palestinians have been organizing for 75 years. The whole reason people know so much about Palestine is because we've been organizing for YEARS, have been participating in the system for YEARS. Sure I can unionize. Sure I can organize. But when absolutely no one takes you seriously in your government?? Then what are you supposed to do??

I still am an advocate for voting locally, but I honestly don't see the point in voting higher than that. I remember a comment in the "can't vote out fascism" post was saying "actual physical fascism is worse than passive fascism" and I'm like.... yeah for you maybe? I'm disabled and I've been mostly in my house for the past 3 years because I want to avoid COVID at all costs. Disabled people around the states have as well. People have been dying well before the past couple of months. Are you saying you'd rather have silent deaths than loud ones?

And another comment that really annoyed me and felt severely disconnected from reality was "Trump's Foreign Policy is the same if not worse than Biden..." Worse than funding a genocide...? Like I hate Trump so much and would never vote for him. But I also won't ever vote for Biden.

Also something that "Vote Blue" people don't realize.... Biden's already lost. I'm not saying this to be smug or anything. Many Muslims and SWANA immigrants vote PRIMARILY based on foreign policy. Like that's one of our main concerns. Every single election, we consider which person would be "better" for people overseas — this isn't me projecting, we talk amongst ourselves about it to make a decision. And these people live in major cities and swing states like Michigan in Dearborn and Detroit. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Illinois turns red next election. Many Palestinian refugees after the Nakba and Naksa settled in Chicago and the greater Chicago area. I've heard that people hate Fetterman so much that they're not voting for him next election or wanting anything to do with democrats anymore. Dems have completely neglected the Muslim and SWANA community and that will come back to bite them in the butt.

Like at this point, you should be thinking of what to do when Trump becomes president lol. Actually think about it. Because honestly, you can yell at me all you want and call me stupid or an idiot for not voting/doing a write in — but I'm 10000% sure that Trump is going to win next election. What more are you going to do other than vote?