#but that was never addressed and i’m like. hmm no an avoidant personality is ultimately bad but likeeee. choose a different background

[velvetbunniie-archive]

i would’ve killed him, actually.

[queenangst]

omg pls elaborate, why don’t u like post pjo nico? I’m curious, I don’t really know how I feel abt him either tbh (u don’t have to respond tho!!! I hope u have a wonderful day!!)

nico is just a different character in pjo than he is in hoo.

i love pjo!nico. the struggle of fantasy (mythomagic, nico's view of the demigod world) vs reality ('mythology,' the reality of being a demigod), the themes of death and coming to terms with death while having a certain amount of power over death. in a world where demigods are the people who don't belong, nico being a kid that doesn't belong even more (hades not having a cabin, the other campers' avoidance or fear of him). grief, forgiveness, friendship. nico pushing people away, especially percy, nico changing from hero worship to understand that even demigods are just human and mortal, and nico accepting other people (accepting percy's friendship) and being accepted himself...

in hoo and beyond i think his story just gets lost, like a lot of other characters do. hoo in general doesn't have the same strength that pjo does - not that every story has to have 'deep' or particularly 'meaningful' themes per se, but pjo grapples with power, mortality. the flaws of gods, humanity. and a lot more. i know we're going really broad, but hoo doesn't deal with any of that. as a consequence nico's character just falls flat for me, because i don't feel that hoo deals with him with the same complexity and interest pjo does.

also, nico being gay. hmm. i have a lot of thoughts about rick and representation (and a good few of them are not great, even if a lot of younger fans sing his praises), and solangelo. now i think nico being gay overall is fine. i think it could add another layer to him when examined through the lens of pjo, and there were plenty of people who thought that way in fandom. but what it felt like to me when written in canon was rick making the decision, and making pjo support the idea retroactively. of course, that is speculation bc i can't 100% confidently say that's true. i don't mean to say that nico shouldn't be gay, but i don't think it was written well.

solangelo also felt like a shoe-in. rick has this thing about pairing characters up for their happy endings. solangelo is a hot mess, it's not compelling, and if we do accept nico's feelings about percy it gets reduced to a joke. nico's character swings from repression and struggling with himself to skipping off with will. i make it no secret i don't like canon solangelo, and the relationship being lgbt doesn't mean it's good. it's flat and boring. also the resolution to nico's 'arc' in hoo doesn't have to be that he ends up in a relationship.

take what i said about the above with a little grain of salt. every person’s opinion is different, some people really love solangelo and that arc of nico’s. i don’t think it’s wrong to like it or that you shouldn’t. but i didn’t, myself. it could have been written a lot better lol

hoo also contradicts like... all of nico's character growth from pjo, and repeats conflicts that were previously resolved instead of expanding or continuing them in interesting ways, or creating new ones that actually make sense.

one of nico's conflicts in hoo was not being accepted and feeling like he doesn't belong anywhere. particularly because of the exclusion of children of pluto by camp jupiter and their fear of him. like i mentioned earlier this was already addressed in the original series. in botl, nico tells percy that he doesn't belong at camp, that people are afraid of him, and ultimately chooses to leave to find his own path. at the end of tlo, nico is welcomed by the other campers. he proves percy's point to the gods, and percy pushes for nico and hades to be accepted by the other gods and demigods.

“It hasn’t been easy, you know. Having only the dead for company. Knowing that I’ll never be accepted by the living. Only the dead respect me, and they only do that out of fear.” “You could be accepted,” I said. “You could have friends at camp.” He stared at me. “Do you really believe that, Percy?”

Nico and Percy, Battle of the Labyrinth, pg. 192

“This camp isn’t for me. There’s a reason they didn’t put a cabin to Hades here, Percy. He’s not welcome, anymore than he is on Olympus. I don’t belong. I have to go.”

Battle of the Labyrinth, pg. 223

"And Hades—" ... "...your children should not be left out. They should have a cabin at camp. Nico has proven that..."

The Last Olympian, pg. 353

Nico sat at the main table with Chiron and Mr. D, and nobody seemed to think this was out of place. Everybody was patting Nico on the back, complimenting him on his fighting. Even the Ares kids seemed to think he was pretty cool.

The Last Olympian, pg. 371

all of that aside, here is a core issue: nico, the doors of death, and his choices. when you really look at it, what happens in hoo is a "fuck you" to nico's character in pjo.

let's recap:

in son of neptune, it's revealed that hazel was brought back by nico. not just that, though... nico was searching for bianca, who he hoped he could bring back. the reason he didn't was because he couldn't - she chose to be reborn to avoid just that.

but nico wouldn't have done that. nico attempting to, and arguably nico bringing back hazel, goes against all of his growth and character in botl.

this isn't the first time nico tried bringing back bianca. his main goal in battle of the labyrinth was to find daedalus to trade his soul for bianca's.

“I was hoping you would give up.” “Give up?” [Nico] sounded heartbroken. “How can you say that? I’m trying to save you!” “You can’t, Nico. Don’t do this. Percy is right.” “No! He let you die! He’s not your friend.”

Nico and Bianca, Battle of the Labyrinth pg. 108

in the labyrinth, percy confronts nico and reveals nico is looking for daedalus to trade his soul for bianca's. but when they find daedalus, when daedalus accepts his own death... nico chooses not to.

“I will take what comes,” he said. “And trust in the justice of the Underworld, such as it is. That is all we can do, isn’t it?” He looked straight at Nico, and Nico’s face darkened. “Yes,” he said. “Will you take my soul for ransom, then?” Daedalus asked. “You could use it to reclaim your sister.” “No,” Nico said. “I will help you release your spirit. But Bianca has passed. She must stay where she is.”

Nico and Daedalus, Battle of the Labyrinth pg. 217

The shimmering form of Bianca di Angelo stood in the clearing, smiling at her brother. She said something to him and touched his face—or tried to. Then her image faded. Nico turned and saw me, but he didn’t look mad. “Saying good-bye,” he said hoarsely.

Nico and Percy, Battle of the Labyrinth pg. 223

also i think it just becomes super clear when you read. i've gone back semi-recently to reread pjo. for this ask i pulled up botl. reading botl... reading pjo... i feel like the difference in quality is so clear when you read about nico.

[bring-it-all-down]

Much has been said about the Black Sails finale and its statement of the show’s themes, so I’d like to focus instead on the penultimate episode, specifically the following speech Jack gives as he’s headed back to Nassau with the goal of killing Flint:

The result ahead of us promises to be a victory of a different sort. A true victory. Freedom...in every sense of the word. How many men in the history of the world have ever known it? How remarkable a moment is this? How fortunate are we to be standing on the threshold of it?

I think this speech really gets to the heart of the show: it’s ultimately about what it means to be truly free. While this notion of freedom is discussed in Flint’s unparalleled final speech about dragons, it’s perhaps in 4.09 that we get the fullest exploration of freedom.

There has obviously been a lot written on the subject of freedom throughout human history, and rather than foolishly attempt to summarize thousands of years of philosophy, I’m going to refer to one of my favorite understandings, written by W.E.B. DuBois:

I dream of a world of infinitive and valuable variety; not in the laws of gravity or atomic weights, but in human variety in height and weight, color and skin, hair and nose and lip. But more especially and far above and beyond this, is a realm of true freedom: in thought and dream, fantasy and imagination; in gift, aptitude, and genius—all possible manner of difference, topped with freedom of soul to do and be, and freedom of thought to give to a world and build into it, all wealth of inborn individuality. Each effort to stop this freedom of being is a blow at democracy—that real democracy which is reservoir and opportunity” (The World and Africa: An Inquiry into the Part Which Africa Has Played in World History, pg. 165.)

DuBois here notes three central elements of freedom: the physical (“to do and be”), the mental (“thought and dream, fantasy and imagination”), and the generational (“give to a world and build into it”). The first two components of freedom are understood by much of Western political philosophy through the terms “negative liberty” and “positive liberty” (coined by Isaiah Berlin), freedom from external threats and freedom to engage in philosophic activity. To these conceptions, DuBois adds a third that all the white dudes who conceived of the other two wouldn’t be concerned with: central to achieving them is the recognition that every individual owes prior and future generations their efforts to maintain liberty, that liberty is not just a theoretical principle but an action.

Turning now to episode 4.09, I think we can begin to understand how each of these three types of freedom overlap.

To start, the conflict of the episode deals with negative liberty. Silver and Flint to some degree know that if one catches the other with the chest, there is a chance they will be killed, and Silver wants the chest to ensure that Woodes Rogers does not kill Madi. In short, they are fighting for their survival, their physical freedom.

Moving on to the flashbacks between Flint and Silver, we begin to see the connection between negative liberty and positive liberty. First, because Silver and Flint are equals without the same political obligations to each other as they have to the crew, the people who serve them and who they serve in turn, they can be honest with each other. Silver recognizes this in telling Flint: “The men...I have to manage how they see me...But for pride to be an issue between you and I, well, I think we’re playing past that by now.” Because they, at that point, have physical/negative liberty with each other, they are then allowed to pursue mental/positive liberty, that being the revelation of their true selves. 

However, Flint becomes aware that this physical liberty is an illusion because Silver is unwilling to meet him equally in their pursuit of positive liberty: 

You know my story. Thomas, Miranda, all of it. Know the role it played in motivating me to do the things that I've done, the things I will do. It has made me transparent to you. Not only that, but when I told you this story, you insinuated yourself into it. The latest in a line of ill-fated partners, situating yourself such that...were you and I ever to come to blows, I'd be forced to hesitate before doing you any harm.

Thus Silver actually has a physical advantage over Flint, negating any semblance of Flint’s physical liberty in their relationship. Through Silver’s attempts to kill Flint in this episode and in the finale, we see that without both physical/mental (or negative/positive) liberty present in any relationship, neither will exist; you cannot have one without the other.

This brings us to what I’ve decided to call generational freedom, though I suppose it could also be called communal freedom. In this episode, the concept of generational freedom is brought up in relation to both Jack and Madi. First, we see it in Jack’s conversation with the man he chose to navigate him to Skeleton Island:

Jack: You sailed with Avery.

Old man: Long time ago.

Jack: 20 years? More, even, maybe?

Old man: More, aye.

Jack: Mm-hmm. You do know where you're going, yes? No, seriously, I've got quite a lot riding on this.

Old man: One day, you'll leave the account. Take a wife, father children. See less and less of the sea until she becomes like a painting hanging on the wall, static and irrelevant to your daily existence. But she'll keep on calling you. And when she does, you'll step into that painting and feel the swell beneath your feet. It'll all come back as if it were like yesterday.

Jack: Is that so?

Old man: I've watched you and yours handle the account since I and mine left it. Accomplish things that no one I ever sailed with could dream of. From what I've overheard, if you reach Skeleton Island, might mean the end of the governor. Maybe keep the account alive a little while longer. Is that so?

Jack: That and more.

Old man: Then I'll take you to it. Hold on to this for as long as you can, for all of us who once had it...and walked away.

In this conversation, we see the generational connections within piracy. The old man sailed with Henry Avery, the person most responsible for establishing the current status of piracy in Nassau, and he is conversing with the person who will usher Nassau into a new era. He is careful to remind Jack of this link and of how unseverable it is; no matter how far away Jack gets from piracy, he will never be able to leave it fully behind. There is some sense of owing his existence in this world to Avery and all those who came before him, a debt he must repay with his actions (namely, removing Woodes Rogers and continuing the life of piracy in Nassau).

Immediately after this conversation, we get Woodes Rogers’ bargaining with Madi. He offers her an ultimatum: accept his treaty or he will kill Silver and all of Silver’s crew, which includes many of Madi’s people. Madi rejects his ultimatum with one of the most poignant speeches in the show:

The voice you hear in your head, I imagine I know who it sounds like, as I know Eleanor wanted those things. But I hear other voices. A chorus of voices. Multitudes. They reach back centuries. Men and women and children who'd lost their lives to men like you. Men and women and children forced to wear your chains. I must answer to them and this war, their war, Flint's war, my war, it will not be bargained away to avoid a fight, to save John Silver's life or his men's or mine. And you believe what you will, but it was neither I nor Flint, nor the Spanish raider who killed your wife. That, you did.

Because of her existence as a former slave who had lived in hiding for most of her life, Madi most fully understands generational freedom. She knows that the supposed freedom Rogers’ treaty offers her and her people is not actual freedom because it fails to address the unfreedom of her ancestors, of the rest of the enslaved people in the Caribbean, because she knows that freedom will never be achieved on the terms of the oppressor. She knows that she owes this war to every victim of England’s empire and that it is the only way to achieve what DuBois calls the opportunity to “give to a world and build into it.” 

This episode thus introduces the idea that “freedom every sense of the word” depends on one recognizing one’s duty to one’s community that consists of not just its current members, but its past and future members. Complete freedom is achieved when one begins to fight to protect the freedom of those who do not yet exist. Madi understands this about freedom, as does Flint, but despite Silver’s insistence that he and Flint are true friends and equals, he is incapable of grasping the generational component of freedom and he therefore ensures that physical and mental freedom, too, will fall outside of his grasp.

[dovechim]

a remedy for mondays 04 (m)

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

➾ 10.1k

➾ summary: all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

➾ warnings: romantic sex, unprotected/ pregnancy sex, creampie, cum eating... the usuals

➾ a/n: thank you for following through with this series so far. im sorry for the wait, but here is the final part :) I also realised that part 3 was not on my master list, but that has been fixed. I hope everyone is keeping safe during these times.

enjoy, and a happy Monday to you :)

(some people asked to be tagged in this, I think @pjmcth​... I and forgot who else 😅)

The first Monday off work, you have grand plans for yourself.

Grand plans that include sleeping in until noon, getting up only to stuff yourself with whatever is left in the kitchen, and then going back to sleep until its dark outside.

It’s your first off day in the longest time that you can remember, and you’ll be damned if you have to move any more than strictly necessary. Finally, it’s time for you to lead the lazy life that you’ve always craved for.

But the best laid plans never come to fruition, and you are left staring miserably at the clock at 7am, wide awake and unable to go back to sleep. Your body clock has been honed after all these years, and it simply will not let you rest. Instead of feeling warm and content, snuggled up in your bed under the covers, you just feel empty and wronged.

Scrolling through social media only delays the inevitable for so long. Looking at all the meaningless memes and watching countless video after video until you finally cry yourself back to sleep again.

When you next wake, it’s noon. You still have the leftovers of the stew that Jimin made the last time he was here, and you spoon it miserably into your mouth after heating it up, but everything tastes like sawdust. The side dishes from Granny are lying untouched in your fridge, and you can’t bear to look at it for a moment longer.

When you lie in bed, you stare at the ceiling motionlessly. Your thoughts are scattered and you can’t help but feel as if your body is not your own anymore. Maybe if you close your eyes, everything will go away when you open them next and this will be just a bad dream.

The first Monday you have without work was supposed to be the best one you’ve had in ages, but instead it passes over in a blur of misery.

The days blur into each other as you cage yourself up in your home, too tired to go out, but too awake to sleep either. It’s only by some primal survival instinct that you keep yourself fed, not to satiate the hunger pangs, but with the lingering consciousness in the back of your mind that whatever is growing inside you at this very moment needs sustenance too, even if you do end up throwing it all up anyway. You’re far too gone to cook anything for yourself, so at this point it’s only Granny’s side dishes that are keeping you alive. What you’ll do when they run out, you have no idea.

You actively avoid thinking about the pea sized bundle of cells growing inside you that very moment. Maybe it’s because you’re scared of having to face a reality where you really might be a single mother, or perhaps it’s because they remind you of a certain man that you loved and lost.

On the third day, your routine of lying in bed is interrupted by a loud and insistent knock on the door that doesn’t go away even when you attempt to ignore it. Dragging yourself to your feet, you pull on a sweater that you pick up from the ground, aware that you haven’t showered or combed your hair in days, but you don’t have any energy to spare in making yourself presentable.

You answer the door, already opening your mouth to tell the delivery person or salesman or whoever that they’ve got the wrong unit.

But it isn’t some stranger. It’s Granny’s kind, smiling face beaming at you as she reaches forward to grasp your hand through the bars of your gate.

“_______!” The way she greets you is as if she hasn’t seen you in years. She looks so happy to see you that it feels as if the whole world brightens up a couple of notches just from her smile alone.

“Gr-Granny! What are you doing here?” Her grip on your hand is warm and reassuring, and she only lets you go for a moment as you move to unlock the gate and usher her in hurriedly.

You’re ashamed at the state of your house. Dirty plates and cups everywhere, empty containers of food dumped in the sink. You are a mess.

But Granny doesn’t say a single word about it as she bustles in, and that’s when you notice that she’s carrying a large bag that she carts over to the kitchen. It’s once again filled with her side dishes, and she stocks all of them into your near empty fridge without a word.

“Granny… that must have been heavy to carry all alone. You shouldn’t have come all the way…” You hesitantly watch her as she organises your fridge for you.

“Nonsense. I only tried that delivery service that one time because all my friends were raving about it. But it turned out to be such a hassle to pack and address everything. I rather do it myself!” She says in a matter of fact tone as she finishes stacking the containers and turns around to face you with a fond smile. “And this way, I get to see how you’re doing too.”

Your eyes brim with tears almost immediately, and you inwardly curse the stupid hormones.

“How did you… how did you know my address?” You watch Granny, and she doesn’t seem to stop moving as she picks up plates, containers and cups, puts them in the sink and wipes down the table counter.

“I squeezed it out from Jimin, of course,” she chuckles at the memory. “Silly boy tried to stop me from coming all the way down here by myself, but when I said I wanted to bring you food…”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of him.

“But why me? What about Jimin? Shouldn’t you be bringing him food instead of me?” Worse still, the guilt threatens to overwhelm you with how selfless Granny is being, putting you over her grandson when you’ve been nothing but a curse to him.

Granny looks over at you with a confused frown on her face. “What? Jimin? He can take care of himself.” Her kind eyes are smiling as she turns to look at you.

And then it hits you, that she’s only being this nice because she thinks you’re pregnant. A lump forms in your throat as your eyes drop to your midriff. You can’t lead her on any longer. Granny deserves to know the truth, and like Jimin, she shouldn’t have been dragged into this whole mess in the first place.

“Granny… I have something to tell you.”

“Hmm? What is it, Puppy?” Her nickname for Jimin makes your chest ache, and you have to sit down for this. She is scrubbing the dishes at your sink, and the casual, fond way that she gives you his nickname makes what’s coming even worse. God knows you aren’t ready for the impending look of disappointment and anger on her face.

She’ll probably curse you and storm out. Maybe she’ll slap you with the kimchi she brought. Either way, you deserve it.

“Granny, I…” The words are stuck in your throat, and you just can’t find a way to word it. “We lied to you. Back when Jimin and I visited you and your family, and even before that. We… I wasn’t pregnant. We were only pretending to be so that…”

Your voice trails off, and you tire to think of explaining the whole story behind why you even pretended to be pregnant in the first place. You can’t think of a single thing to say that might explain why you deserve her forgiveness.

“I know,” Granny puts down the soapy plate that she was scrubbing. “I didn’t come here to bring you food just because of the baby. Or just because I thought you were pregnant. I came because I wanted to see you, and my silly boy was being so vague and avoiding my questions about you over the phone that I had to come down and see you myself.”

Her response catches you off guard. “Wait, you knew that we were pretending all along?”

Granny only smiles. “Not all along, dear. But when you were at my house, I was packing up the room that the both of you stayed in, and I found your bag of pads and tampons. Now, that wasn’t enough to make any solid conclusions, but combined with the fact that you weren’t showing yet…”

Your shoulders slump. “So you knew. Why didn’t you call us out on it? We were… we lied to you. No, actually, it was me all along. I dragged Jimin into this and made him lie to you. You should hate me, curse me, anything-!”

But Granny doesn’t do any of that. Instead, she approaches you, placing her hand on your shoulder in a warm, reassuring touch. “I could never hate you, Puppy. Not after I’ve seen how much Jimin likes you. You know, he used to be such a shy little thing. But after he met you, I saw how happy you made him. It’s like we all saw a side of him that only you could bring out.”

There is a moment of silence as you digest all this.

“And it’s not just because you made him happy either,” Granny continues. “______, it would be an honour to have you as an addition to my family. Baby or not. We all really like you. You’re strong, you work hard and you’re an intelligent young woman. What more could we want?”

“Granny…” your eyes brim with tears and they spill over, as you clutch her hand, feeling the guilt squeeze your heart over and over. Granny has treated you as part of the family from day one. She saw the good in you even when you couldn’t see it yourself. Her kind eyes and warm embrace makes you feel safe enough to pour everything out to her. The years of mistreatment at your job, all the humiliation that you endured from Bae Joohyun, how you got fired for committing fraud, and the ultimate irony of it all…

“Granny, I messed up. With Jimin. With everything. We said we’d try for a baby for real so that we wouldn’t get in trouble with the company, but they ended up finding out anyway, and now I’m really…” you stop to wipe your cheeks. “Really pregnant.”

A chuckle of disbelief leaves your lips. This is the first time you’ve said the words out loud, instead of just denying it and hoping that it will just go away on its own. You expect Granny to jump for joy or cry with happiness, but instead, she squeezes your hand.

“Does Jimin know?” She asks gently, handing you some tissues and stroking your hair.

Granny’s tender loving touch makes more tears well in your eyes. It’s been forever since you received the love and care that only a maternal figure can provide, and the thought itself reminds you of the tiny little spore that is probably growing inside you at this very moment. Your emotions are just all over the place, and one thought easily snowballs into another.

“No, he doesn’t,” you press the tissue to your damp cheeks, and it soaks through instantly. “I couldn’t tell him… not after everything I put him through. What kind of sick game would I be playing on him?”

Granny only lets you wallow in your ocean of self-pity for a tad longer before she tsks under her breath, straightening up.

“Well, that’s the least of your worries for now. If I were you, sweetheart, I’d think about suing that company of yours. Or at the very least, getting some kind of compensation from them.” Granny’s voice is a no-nonsense one, and it reawakens the rage and indignance that had been drowned out.

She’s right. Being down and feeling sorry for yourself like this is not going to accomplish anything. You’ve never been one to take things lying down, to take the cards as you’re dealt them, but somehow, somewhere along the way after working at this company, you changed. You got beaten down, slowly but surely, and you didn’t even realise it.

Hastily, you wipe your cheeks dry and try to push yourself to your feet. Your movements are fumbling. Where is that notebook with the evidence of all the mistreatments and humiliations you’ve endured over the years? If you’re going to retaliate, might as well mount a full scale attack against those corporate bastards.

But the lack of nutrition over the past few days gets to you, and your vision blacks out for a moment when you stand up, causing you to wobble dangerously on your feet.

Granny sees the look of resolute determination that comes over your face, and she reaches out to steady you. You make a weak attempt at reassuring her that you are alright, taking a few steps forward, but she stops you again.

“Where do you think you’re going, Puppy?”

“To- to get my notebook. And then… I need to get dressed.” Thoughts are racing through your mind of how you’ll storm into the office, fling the doors open with a cup of hot, steaming black coffee in hand and not-so-accidentally-

“You’re not going anywhere,” she says with a firmness in her voice that matches her grip as she forces you to sit back down.

Appalled, you open your mouth to argue back, but Granny shakes her head.

“Not until you’re eating properly and regaining your strength,” she clarifies, pushing up her sleeves once more. “And I’m here to make sure of that.”

The next few days, you’re treated like royalty. Even though you feel bad for making a woman of her age do all the housework, cook you meals with ten side dishes three times a day, Granny won’t have it any other way. Even when you try to sneakily help out with folding a piece of clothing or washing the dishes, all you get are looks of disapproval from the warm old woman, and you feel too bad to keep going.

You’ve never eaten so well before. Chicken, beef, fish, pork. Vegetables of every kind, roasted, stir fried, steamed and blanched, and plenty of fruits too. And along with all that are all the essential pre-natal vitamins that you’ve neglected to take up until now. Granny feeds you better than you could ever feed yourself, and you wonder how you lived without her all these years.

No wonder Jimin turned out so well.

Slowly, the colour begins to reappear in your cheeks. Your hollow, sunken face begins to fill out again, and you find yourself more energetic. Granny looks on with approval as you work at your desk, writing down a long list of everything you’ve ever wanted to say to Bae Joohyun. She listens with a beaming, proud smile on her face as you rehearse your figurative war cry, giving suggestions on where to embellish with more emotion, where to really let them feel the full extent of your wrath.

And on the day itself, she helps you pick out your outfit.

“This one, you look good in this,” Granny says finally, after you have tried on five different outfits.

You look at yourself uncertainly in the mirror, not used to what you see. The light makeup that you had applied for the first time in ages sits unfamiliar on your face. You’d given up on wearing makeup to work a long time ago. Your figure is clad in black from head to toe, dressed in a power suit that you could never bring yourself to wear. You had bought it on impulse years ago when it was on sale, and ever since then it has lived in the back of your closet, waiting to see the light of day. The lapels are made of satin, the suit jacket nips in at your waist snugly (thankfully not toosnugly, considering your current condition) and your legs are somehow longer than you remember them being in the tapered, slim fit dress pants.

Your hands linger on your lower belly for a moment, self-consciously turning to the side to see if it protrudes visibly. But at this stage, it’s barely visible. Then your gaze travels down to your bare feet, and Granny’s voice matches your thoughts.

“You should wear those,” she suggests, pointing to a pair of strappy, low heels that would compliment the outfit, lengthening your legs even more but still providing enough support so that you’ll be comfortable.

But you had something else in mind, and you have to tear your eyes away from the pair of plain old battered flats that you used to wear every day without fail. Similar to the power suit, that pair of heels has been sitting in your cabinet for as long as you can remember, never having the courage to wear it out.

“Women who wear heels with a suit are dressed to kill,” she says by way of explanation, and she sounds so logical that you can’t turn her down.

You bend down to pick up the pair of heels, placing them by the door as you head back to the kitchen, ushered by Granny, to finish the breakfast she made. Today it’s an omelette egg roll and soft tofu soup with pork slices. The egg roll has ketchup squirted on it in a smiley face, and you can’t help but laugh when you see it.

“Granny, I’m not five years old you know,” you pout at her, folding your arms in a gesture that would suggest otherwise. But the following grin on your face as you stuff your mouth with the warm, soft and savoury egg roll is unstoppable.

Granny only laughs as she sits down beside you with her own portion. “You and Jimin are the same. That’s how he likes his ketchup too.”

At the mention of Jimin, your chopsticks freeze in the midst of spearing another egg roll. Your hand shakes a little as you set the utensils down. The thought of running into him only to be faced with his cold look of rejection just chills you to the bone. There’s no way you could stomach that from him.

“What if… what if I see him?” You say in a small voice.

In all your practice runs, you had only gone over what to say to Bae Joohyun and HR. You kept yourself focused on the task ahead, not sparing yourself even a moment to indulge your emotions. But you hadn’t thought of what would happen if you run into Jimin, how you’ll tell him about the baby, or how you’ll make everything right again.

When you start to think about running into Jimin, your mind starts to overthink about what it’ll be like to step foot into that place again. The workplace that you suffered at for years, enduring all sorts of humiliation and injustice just to get to where you are right now. Your breathing involuntarily speeds up- some kind of post-traumatic response, and for a second, you think you might just chicken out of all this.

Just then, your phone placed on the table beside you lights up with a text.

Kim Taehyung: hey… um… i know it’s weird of me to be asking this since u already left us but… Kim Taehyung: if u can, can u come in today? we r rly shorthanded and could use ur help. Kim Taehyung: if it helps, bae joohyun said she’ll buy you a nice lunch if u can come in today. Kim Taehyung: please?

And then just like that, all the feelings of insecurity and cowardice disappear. The nerve of this fucking company. They fire you for fraud and then beg for you to come back and work for them for free? You honestly doubt that Bae Joohyun actually said that, but that’s not the point.

You can almost feel the rage heating up your entire body. Granny takes a look at your screen and tsks under her breath.

“I don’t know what kind of company that is, Puppy, but I’ve never seen one that treats its employees like that.”

Your fingers are trembling as you type back a reply. First, you type out a curt rejection, adrenaline filling your entire body as you imagine what Bae Joohyun’s reaction might be when she learns that for once in your entire miserable career working for her; you turned her down. But there is also a chord of fear that strikes you through the heart, borne out of an ingrained instinct to submit to your inner yes-man in order to please them.

You hesitate before pressing send, taking a moment to compartmentalise your emotions and think this through. There’s a chance that when you get to the office building, you might be turned away by security because you don’t have your access card anymore.

Deleting your entire message, you rack your brains to figure out how to field this situation to your advantage.

Up till now, they still think you’re this pathetic little girl who’d roll belly up to please them at a moment’s notice. They don’t even have the decency to feel a shred of guilt for asking you to come in and work practically for free.

Except you’re not intimidated by them anymore. Now, you are in the position of power.

And this is how you’ll take them down.

Holding your breath, you type out a short reply to Kim Taehyung.

You: I’ll be there at 10.

Granny nods her approval over your shoulder as you put your phone face down, not even bothering to check when Taehyung’s reply comes back.

“You know… I don’t think you’ll have to worry about Jimin. When he sees you dressed like that, he won’t be able to resist. He’ll fall at your feet,” Granny says with a mischievous smirk.

“Granny!” You chide her with a blush heating your cheeks.

“What? It’s true,” she says with a pout that looks oh-so-familiar. “Just be natural, Puppy. Say whatever that comes to mind. That silly boy is probably dying to see you but is too stubborn to come all the way here. Why, he probably looks a right mess too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been crying his heart out the past week.”

You start to open your mouth to contradict her, but all Granny does is push another egg roll into your mouth as she urges you to finish your breakfast. “Eat up, Puppy. You don’t want to be late.”

*

It’s funny what a change of outfit and shoes can do to a woman. It makes you feel like an entirely different person as you walk into the office building at 10 am on the dot. You’re no longer the meek little employee stuck in a dead-end job who can’t stand up for herself.

No, today you are brave, you are confident, and you are here to give back everything that’s been dealt to you all this while.

Security stops you as you enter. You’re already kind of used to this, since you were never once assigned with your own photo pass in all the time you worked here. Everyday, you had to sign in as a visitor and go through the security checks only for visitors, which more often than not, made you late for work when they hit a snag in the process every now and then. Being made to feel like a visitor at your own workplace does things to a person’s self-esteem, but you grit your teeth and remind yourself that this is the last time you’ll be doing this.

“Who are you here for?” A burly security guard asks you with a stern expression, even though he must have seen your face on a daily basis for the past few years.

“Kim Taehyung.” You say truthfully, and the guard just nods as he waves at you to put your bag through the scanning machine.

Waiting at the other end after having stepped through the metal detecting gates, you scoop up your bag and walk to the elevator. Seeing as it’s past the usual reporting time, it is empty, and your heart pounds in your chest as you watch the numbers go by on the elevator display.

When the doors open, you have composed yourself again, a straight face as you stride towards the doors. You wave your temporary access card and enter, once again struck by the ominous familiarity of the entire place.

Kim Taehyung spots you from his workstation immediately. “______!” He calls out your name in nothing short of a yell, and you fight the urge to cringe, watching as multiple heads turn around to look at you.

Including Park Jimin’s.

Granny was right. He does look a lot worse for wear. He resorts to hiding behind his enormous geek glasses again, blonde hair limp and dull over his forehead, his pretty brown eyes no longer have that warmth anymore. His usually plush, luscious lips are pale, and he looks as if he hasn’t slept in days.

Out of the whole office, even with multiple eyes on you and voices whispering out of curiosity, he is the only one you can look at.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Kim Taehyung is almost at your side as he spreads his arms in welcome. There is a wide grin across his face, not unlike how he was before. “We really, really need you here.”

Hearing those words makes you break the eye contact with Park Jimin to look at Taehyung. For a moment, you desperately want to believe that those words are true. And it makes you doubt yourself, makes you think that maybe this company isn’t so bad after all, maybe they do treasure you after all. If Taehyung says he needs you, then maybe they really do need you to help them out with a piece of work that no one else can do.

But no. They had years to realise your worth. Why are they only doing it now, after they fired you so unceremoniously?

So you placate him with a bland smile. “Sure. What would you like me to do?”

Taehyung practically skips to his desk. “Ok so we need you to go through some of the brochure material that we’ll be pushing out soon. Just another pair of eyes to make sure that we didn’t miss anything. I know you don’t have your laptop anymore, so you can borrow mine. Oh, and…”

You watch his eyes slide awkwardly to where your old desk used to be. In your absence, they had replaced the smaller desk with a full sized one, currently occupied by someone you don’t recognise.

“…uh, we’ll get you one of the empty meeting rooms to work in,” Taehyung motions for you to follow him, and it’s all you can do not to look in Park Jimin’s direction as you turn away. “You look great, by the way. Hardly recognised you.”

You clear your throat awkwardly as a way of responding as Taehyung sets his laptop on the table for you and plugs it in. He opens the required documents for you as you seat yourself in the hardbacked chair.

“So… here are all the things we need you to look through. Let me know when you’re done, okay? Thanks again, ______!” Taehyung beams at you as he lets himself out of the room.

Left alone, you relax a little. At least things seem to be going your way for now, even the parts you didn’t plan for. Minimizing the word document window, you open Microsoft Outlook and navigate over to Taehyung’s calendar. There, you scroll down to find Bae Joohyun’s calendar and all her appointments and meetings for today.

There. At 11.30am, she has a meeting with the Policy team, with HR in attendance. When you scroll down to the meeting details, you see that Park Jimin has been appointed secretariat for this meeting. You ignore the flutter of nerves that arise at the sight of his name to open up Taehyung’s instant messenger. What you’re doing could really get him in trouble, but then again, a part of you simply doesn’t care. He was complicit in all of this. You have no sympathy for him at all.

You send a quick instant message to one of the Policy team to let them know that the meeting has been cancelled so that you can hijack it for your own purposes. When they reply with an acknowledgement, you sit back in your chair, letting out a sigh of relief before quickly deleting any signs of evidence from his chat log history.

You spend some time going over what you prepared to say when you finally meet the witch, everything from past payrolls where you were underpaid for your overtime work, a draft from a lawyer threatening to sue for illegally divulging your medical information to a doctor’s letter proving your current pregnancy. Everything you need to take that witch on is right here.

A soft, timid knock sounds at the door, and you hurriedly gather everything into a pile and shove it into your bag. Can’t have your plan given away before you’re ready. You expect it to be Taehyung coming to check on your progress, but when the door cracks open, you see a flash of blonde hair, followed by a soft, sweet voice that you missed so much.

“Can I come in?” Jimin asks with his eyes trained on the floor in front of you.

“Come in,” your hands twist together out of nervousness, and you see that Jimin is carrying a cup in his hands as he approaches you.

“I uh… I brought you this. I know you need coffee every day at around this time, so…” Jimin gingerly places the cup on the table without taking a single step forward so that he remains as far away from you as possible. You can see that he is nervous, all the tell-tale signs are there. From the way he keeps running his fingers through his hair to the way he bites his bottom lip and avoids eye contact.

You never really realised it, but you do always go to the pantry at around this time for your before lunch coffee. It gets worse when you realise that Jimin used his cup to make you coffee, and as you stare at his beloved One Piece mug, you have to stop yourself from crying.

Jimin mistakes your silence for something else, and he clears his throat awkwardly as he takes another step backwards. “Well um… let me know if you need anything. I’ll just be… I’ll be outside.”

A part of you wants to call out after him. There are so many things you want to tell him, but before you can gather your scattered wits, he lets himself out of the room.

It’s okay. It’s the wrong timing anyway, you tell yourself in an attempt to calm down and put all thoughts of his sad puppy eyes out of your mind. There will be enough time to talk to him when this is all over. Right now, you have to gear up for the biggest battle of your life.

When 11.30am comes, you shut the lid on Taehyung’s laptop and let yourself out of the room. You know Bae Joohyun always likes to stroll into her meetings exactly 2 minutes late, so you take your time walking to the meeting room. When you are 10 steps away, you see her black clad figure just ahead of you. You watch her push open the meeting door, and you have to consciously fight against back the pulse of intimidation that runs through your entire body. You quicken your steps and push the door open after her.

Just as you’d hoped, the only people in the room are the witch herself, Kim Namjoon from HR, and… Park Jimin as the note taker. He looks surprised to see you in the room as he straightens his posture, eyes widened almost comically in the way that you’ve become all too familiar with.

“What’s this?” Bae Joohyun doesn’t look the least bit bothered, just continues to tap away on her special iPad without even looking up. “Why is she here? Isn’t this meeting with the Policy unit?”

Kim Namjoon looks flustered as he looks at you, gesturing with his chin for you to get out. When you don’t make a single move, he turns back to Bae Joohyun, visibly sweating. “Um… there must be some kind of mistake… _____, we could talk about this later?”

The way his voice rises in a desperate plea only makes the victory even sweeter.

“No. It’s not a mistake. I’m here to dispute the terms of my termination.” You take out your folder of evidence from your bag and drop it on the table. “Of course, we could invite our colleagues from the Policy Unit to sit in on this meeting as well, but something tells me that you won’t want them to hear about what I have to say.”

There is a beat of tense silence as Bae Joohyun contemplates what’s on her iPad screen. She hasn’t looked up even once since you walked into the room. She lets out a soft sigh, as if all this is beneath her and just a waste of her time. Seeing as you aren’t about to get her attention any time soon, you shift your gaze to Kim Namjoon.

“First of all, I would like to bring your attention to the unfair compensation that I have been subject to all these years. According to my calculations, I have yet to be compensated for 136 hours of overtime.” You push a stack of timesheets towards Kim Namjoon’s shocked face. “Time and time again I’ve submitted these, only for them to be rejected.”

Bae Joohyun doesn’t react at all.

“Secondly, I have consulted my lawyer about the illegal release of my medical information. He has advised me to take legal action both against the doctor who allowed my medical information to be leaked, as well as the company itself who illegally utilised the information.”

You pause for a moment to let the words sink in, and at the very same moment, you see Kim Namjoon’s face turn slightly green as he processes the meaning of this.

“Sure, you might be thinking that it’ll be easy to win a lawsuit against an individual like me, being a huge company and all that. But I don’t think it will reflect too well on your organisation as a whole, will it?”

Bae Joohyun blinks once, then taps a few times on her iPad so that the screen goes black. Then, she shifts her gaze to you, her face still unreadable, but you detect a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

“So? What’s your point?” She folds her arms and addresses you directly.

A good sign. A very good sign.

It’s time for the final blow. You brace yourself with your fists clenched by your side, aware of the mounting tension in the room. Namjoon is practically holding his breath, you can see him shaking in his seat with his eyes darting back and forth between you and Bae Joohyun. Jimin has given up all pretence of typing and hiding behind his laptop, and he is looking at you with nothing short of awe on his face.

You reach in for your last piece of evidence. “You are aware that in this country it is against the law to terminate a pregnant woman without a thorough inquiry? And if a pregnant employee must be dismissed, it has to be based on relevant and objective performance criteria?”

A small raise of her eyebrow as her head nods imperceptibly, but you can see Bae Joohyun’s expression waver.

“Yes… we are well aware of that. It is a policy I have helped to implement,” the witch says with a hint of pride in her voice.

A satisfied smile spreads across your face as you draw out the doctor’s letter. You can hear Jimin’s sharp intake of breath in the otherwise silent room, and the shifting in his seat as he leans his elbows on the table. His mouth is slightly open, but no words are coming out.

“According to this letter, you’ll find that I am currently almost 2 months pregnant. As such, having been terminated whilst pregnant without further inquiry or offer of wage compensation, I am entitled to further legal action against you and the company.”

You toss the letter directly to Bae Joohyun, and it lands heavily in front of her. You can see Jimin’s fingers twitch as his stare burns a hole into the letter, before looking back at you with an unreadable expression on his face. The witch herself lets out another sigh before meeting your eyes, completely ignoring the letter.

“We will look into raising a fair and just inquiry.” Her words are brief, and she casts a sideways glance at Namjoon as she says this, as if this was all his fault to begin with.

Namjoon, on the other hand, rushes to accept the blame. “O-of course! We will ensure that the entire process is as transparent and fair as possible.”

“No need for that,” you say with an indifferent wave of your hand, and the satisfaction grows when the witch herself does a double take.

“What… what exactly do you mean by that?” Bae Joohyun is unable to believe her ears.

Jimin is looking at you as if you just saved the world from total destruction. The admiration in his eyes can’t be hidden as he grins. Namjoon looks sick.

“No need for the inquiry,” you say just to make things clear. “I’m aware of how things are done at this company, and sad to say that it’s anything but fair. I’m quitting. Notice effective immediately. You’ll hear from my lawyer regarding the compensation that I owe for my notice period.”

You reach into your bag for the last envelope, tossing your resignation letter onto the table with a practiced ease. Then, you gather your bag and make your way out the door, Bae Joohyun’s shocked expression burned into your retinas.

It feels like you’re walking away from an explosion like the cool guys do in the movies. For once in your life, you feel like the protagonist of your own movie rather than the side character.

Everyone else in the office is still working quietly, so you escape the office without being pursued further. When you stop to press the lift button, you hear the doors fling open, and a panting Park Jimin appears.

“Wait!” Jimin has his hands on his knees. “Le-let me drive you home.”

His eyes grow desperate as the lift doors open.

You owe him an explanation too. You hold the lift button as you turn towards him. “Will you?”

*

The drive home is silent up until he parks in front of your apartment. Neither of you make a move.

“2 months?” Jimin finally breaks the silence. “When did you find out?”

“After… after they fired me. They called me with the results from the free checkup. That’s how I found out.”

“So you knew when I called you?” Jimin’s heartbroken voice stabs you right in the gut.

There’s no excuse you could make for yourself. “It- it’s true though. Everything I said.”

“What?” Jimin looks and sounds like a puppy that’s been kicked.

“I did drag you into all of this. It was selfish to use you as my excuse the first time, and I couldn’t let myself go down that road anymore. You made all my Mondays better, but I made yours worse. You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than me, than all of this-“

“-but I want this,” Jimin grasps your hand and pulls it to his chest. “I don’t care if it’s selfish. All this while you’ve been assuming that you dragged me into this, that I was the unwilling party all along. But have you ever stopped to consider for one second that I might want this too? With you? That you made my Mondays better too?”

When you take a moment to look at his face, the Park Jimin that you’ve come to know and love over the past few months, the familiarity of him soothes you. The plump cheeks, rounded eyes, and the special smile he always has just for you. And he’s right. Never had you thought that he might want this- because why would he? How could he?

“You want this? But… why?” You are incredulous, unwilling to believe.

“Because I love you. And the thing growing inside you right now,” Jimin lets his emotions get the best of him, all the better to say the words he’s been struggling to say ever since he saw you that morning. And maybe it’s not the most romantic, but it’s filled with sincerity at the very least. “I’m in love with you, rash decisions and all. The day where you dragged me into your mess was the best day of my life. My Mondays have never been the same since.”

You can’t help but laugh aloud at how realistic his confession is. Classic Jimin style, savage as always. At the sound of your laughter, Jimin grins also, slightly shy from just pouring out his feelings like that, but proud of himself all the same.

“Granny knows, you know,” you say in between your laughter. “She knows we were faking it all along. And- oh! She came to visit me, you should come in and say hi to her.”

“What?” His comical gasp only sends you into another laughing fit. “Since when?! You could have told me sooner! She’ll spank me so hard for lying to her…”

“She’s not the only one who’ll be spanking you,” you can’t help but tease him, the opportunity is just too perfect.

“Agh! Don’t talk like that when my Granny is involved!!” Jimin buries his head in his hands in embarrassment.

You tug at his hands, opening your side of the door. “You have to come in, at least! She’ll be so happy to see you. To see us together again. She was the one who helped me with all of this you know.”

You drag a grumbling and still embarrassed Jimin inside, stopping every few seconds to tease him about his red ears and pinch his cheeks.

“Oh come on, Granny won’t be mad when she sees how cute you look. Wait, no. She’ll insist to feed us like there’s no tomorrow. She’ll say you lost your chubby cheeks,” you grin at him as you unlock the door, fully savouring the bubbly feeling in your stomach that makes you feel as if you are floating.

“Isn’t it good, though? It means I lost weight,” Jimin places a hand on his own face, as if to gauge whether his cheeks have slimmed down or not, still fretting over how Granny will react when she sees him.

“No! Of course it’s not good! You shouldn’t be losing any more weight, you’re perfect as is,” you drop your bag at the door and kick off your heels, groaning in relief. “Granny! We’re home!”

“That should be my line,” Jimin mutters under his breath as he braces himself to see Granny. But minutes pass, and he doesn’t see his beloved Granny.

“Hmm? That’s strange. Where did she go? She was just here this morning,” you mumble to yourself, walking towards the kitchen and wondering if she might be too immersed in cooking, but then you spot a scribbled note tacked to your fridge.

I left for Busan already, Puppy. You did well… I’ll leave you two alone. Side dishes in the fridge! Stay safe!

“Oh? Puppy? Why did she write that note to me? How did she know I’d be here?” Jimin is confused as he reads the note from over your shoulder.

You can’t help but smirk at his confusion. “Sorry, but Granny decided that the nickname belongs to me now.”

As Jimin protests with a pout, you can’t help but smile at Granny’s thoughtfulness. Seeing that your thoughts are somewhere else, Jimin rests his chin on your shoulder to demand for your attention like a cute puppy.

You turn to him and your attention is drawn to one of your favourite parts of him- his lips. Noticing that they are still a little dry, you frown and reach inside your pocket, taking out your favourite lip balm.

“Hold still. I’ve wanted to do this since this morning,” you place a hand on his chin and uncap the lip balm, dabbing and swiping it gently across his full lips. Though slightly dry, his lips are so soft and pliable under your touch, and the way he closes his eyes to enjoy your touch has you clenching your thighs together. With every swipe of the lip balm, his bottom lip looks plumper, and you can’t help yourself any longer.

Carelessly tossing aside the lip balm, you chase after his lips with your own, tasting the sweet peach flavour of the lip balm and feeling just how soft and cushiony Park Jimin’s lips are. He makes the cutest surprised little sound, eyes open for a second before he kisses you back with equal fervour.

You make sure to scrape your teeth against his plush bottom lip, fulfilling one of the fantasies you’d been dreaming about since this morning.

When you break away, Park Jimin has a teasing smile on his slightly swollen lips. “I guess that’s an efficient way to put lip balm on for two people.”

“Shut up already,” you say before you start to giggle all over again, and Jimin takes this as an invitation to go in for seconds.

“Since… since Granny said she’d leave us alone… shall we?” Jimin is somehow endearingly shy even though the two of you aren’t strangers to this.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He tugs you into your bedroom eagerly, and on the way, you can’t help but grab a handful of his ass through his dress pants. Park Jimin pretends to be shocked as he turns around, arms around your waist as he makes you sit down on the bed gently.

“That’s sexual harassment, Ms.” His words contradict his actions as he runs his palms down your thighs, fingers dancing up your inner thigh.

“But I like your ass,” you say with a pout, imitating him and the way his cheeks puff up.

“I like yours better,” he says with an unabashed grin. “And I fucking love this suit on you. The moment you walked in this morning… I think Taehyung saw my boner.”

You can’t hide your squeal of embarrassment as you clasp a hand to your mouth, but Park Jimin only grins as he invites himself to undo the button on your pants.

“I said I really liked it… but I’m changing my mind. I want it off, now.” He bids you to lift your hips so that he can peel the pants off your legs, exposing your bare skin. His fingers on your skin makes your temperature skyrocket, and even more so when they tease at the edges of your underwear. He sees the damp patch in the centre, and glances upwards with raised eyebrows. “Are you wet already? I haven’t even done much yet…”

The cute way he glances through his bangs with the slight smirk on his lips makes you feel brazen. “I’m pregnant… I’m always wet these days.”

Park Jimin lets out a sharp exhale as he drags his thumb against the wet patch to feel for himself. You would be embarrassed were he not so clearly turned on by this, demonstrated by the urgency with which he pulls your underwear down and wedges his shoulders between your thighs. Without a single word, he kisses the inner flesh of your thighs, working his way up to where you need him the most.

It’s torture to watch his plush lips get closer and closer to your centre, until they finally envelope your swollen and aching clit. He wraps his lips around them and sucks, thick fingers digging into your inner thighs to keep them spread as he licks up every drop of your arousal. He eats you like a man starved, and your back arches under his ministrations. He gives your poor clit a break as he switches to broad flat licks with his tongue, and everything just becomes so much wetter. You can see that his chin is glistening, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest as he only spreads your legs wider, one thigh on each shoulder.

The lewd position in which you are in, seeing his golden head in between your thighs makes you want him even more. You are aching to feel him, to be closer than physically possible to him.

Jimin satisfies your hunger by introducing two fingers into you, and you whine at the stretch. His fingers have always been so deliciously thick, and he basks in your reaction.

“You like that? Like being filled with my fingers? Tell me how much you like it.” His vulnerable side shows through as he glances up at you while you thread your fingers through his soft hair.

“I missed this… missed you so much,” you voice comes out in a breathless whisper as you clench around him. You glance at him to see how he’s rolled back his sleeves to above the elbow, using his other hand to push his hair back and show off his forehead glistening with sweat and you swear you get a million times wetter at the sight.

“Like what you see baby?” Park Jimin shows off with a cocky little smile, pushing his hair back again just for good measure. He can feel how much wetter you are, and you can bet he’s not going to let this go just like that.

“Good looking bastard,” you swear under your breath as he rubs your clit with his thumb. “I sure hope our baby takes after you.”

“The good-looking part or the cocky part?” Jimin has the nerve to tease you, but you don’t have your wits to answer any more as he flattens his tongue against your clit, driving his fingers inside you just to send you over the edge.

Maybe it’s because you were deprived of his presence for the past week that this orgasm makes you realise how much you were starving for Park Jimin. Your thighs clench around him, shaking with mind numbing pleasure as he continues to thrust his fingers inside you.

He shows you no mercy as he continues to rub your clit slowly, the other hand stroking your inner thigh to soothe you. It’s characteristic of him, getting you used to the overstimulation whilst comforting you at the same time.

You push yourself up on your elbows, seeing the bulge in his dress pants and feeling the impatience fuel your actions. “I want to see you. Why are you still wearing these?”

He is preoccupied with licking the rest of you off his fingers as you struggle with the button on his pants, setting him free and reaching past his underwear to grasp his cock. The feeling of his thick length in your hands ignites a hunger inside you as you stroke him, running your thumb across his tip as he kicks away his pants. His abs tense as you palm his cock, and your mouth waters at the thought of running your tongue across them.

“I can’t wait to see you round and swollen with our baby,” Park Jimin says out of nowhere, his eyes hungry as he pushes your blazer off your shoulders, fingers working magic on the buttons of your shirt. He pushes that off your shoulders as well, eyes feasting on your breasts sitting so prettily in the cups of your bra. “And these. They’ll look so beautiful leaking with milk just for me.”

Jimin undoes your bra with ease, slipping the straps down your shoulders. He drags his thumb across your peaked nipple painfully slowly, then he pinches it sharply, eliciting a cry from you.

“The milk isn’t for you, it’s for our baby,” you remind him with a warning squeeze to his cock, sliding your own thumb through the messy tip.

Jimin meets your eyes with the cutest pout ever. “The baby can share. They’re not getting here for another few months yet.”

How he can look like a kicked puppy with your hands around his cock, you have no idea. The duality of Park Jimin will be the death of you someday. He crawls forward as your hands rid him of his last article of clothing, hungry to touch his bare skin and feel it against your own. Jimin makes sure your head is nestled comfortably against the pillows as he kisses his way down your body to your breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking, giving you a glimpse of what it would feel like when you do start producing milk later on.

You can feel his cock against your inner thighs as you cradle him with your body, feeling the hardness of his abs against your softer body, the curve of his ass. Jimin is still satisfying himself with sucking on your breasts, licking and teasing you to his heart’s content.

You twitch in response, feeling much more sensitive now that you’re a few months along, but Jimin looks as if he’s enjoying your breasts so much that you don’t have the heart to stop him. His fingers are delicately stroking your lower belly as he worships your breasts, muttering sweet nothings about how perfect you’ll be as the mother of his baby.

“Want your cock, now,” you urge him with your voice and reinforce it with your thighs nudging him into position. You feel the head of his cock blunt against you, and without taking his mouth off your nipple, he positions himself with one hand and enters you with a fluid thrust of his hips. As if he can’t take his mouth off your breasts for one second.

He continues to suck at your breasts as he fucks into you, the stretch of his cock and the welcome burn making you curl your thighs around him. Once he’s certain that you can take it, Park Jimin starts to pound into you with his cock, his rough thrusts contrasting with his gentle sucking and kissing.

He finally lets up with the assault against your breasts, pushing your thighs together and putting them on one shoulder. This suddenly display of strength has you gushing on his cock, and it only strokes his ego even more.

“You like getting fucked like this? Hm?” Jimin punctuates his filthy words with a particularly hard thrust that you can feel all the way to your cervix. “You like getting fucked so much, it was only a matter of time till you got knocked up like this.”

He watches your breasts bounce so deliciously, knowing that it is because of his fucking.

“I love it, fucking love it. Love you,” your reply is disjointed, every thrust of his hips sends his cock so deep inside you. “Want you to keep fucking me.”

“I will, baby don’t worry,” he places one hand on your hip and the other just under your breasts as he buries himself deep. “Give you all the babies you want.”

“Want you to cum inside me, give me all your cum,” you watch as his expression twists in pleasure, his cock twitching inside you as he pulls out almost all the way, only to slam back in. “Fill me up the way you did when you fucked a baby into me. Then I want you to fuck your cum into me.”

“Ahh, fuck,” he swears harshly under his breath, you always know just how to get him. Your cunt is so tight and warm around him, everything is so wet and he’s missed the feeling of you wrapped around him. He holds a tender hand to your lower belly. The thought that you’re giving him a baby, and he gets to be the one to hold you and fuck you and kiss you makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world. “I’ll come so soon.”

“Cum for me baby please,” you play with your nipples, putting on a show for him as he groans, thumb finding your clit as he struggles to hold himself back. “Want to feel your cum inside me. I want to be dripping with your cum.”

Jimin quickens his pace on your clit as his thrusts start to become sloppy, and he throws back his head as his abs tighten. With three more thrusts, he buries himself as deep as possible into your warm cunt, feeling himself unleash ropes of cum into your depths. You can feel how warm and sticky everything is, and the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you sends you into another orgasm as well.

True to his word, Jimin doesn’t pull out immediately, giving you lazy little thrusts to fuck his cum back into you as if the two of you were still trying to get pregnant. It’s the little, silly things that he does- making you prop your hips up, pulling out his cock so slowly and plugging you up with his fingers that makes you fall even deeper in love with this fool.

“I heard cum is good for the cervix if you’re pregnant,” he says by way of explanation as he watches globs of cum escape from your lips. He indulges himself by spreading it a little, before pushing it all inside you. “Softens it so you’ll have an easier birth.”

“Bullshit,” you giggle at him. “Next thing you’ll be telling me is that cum facials make me look younger.”

Jimin frowns indignantly. “I would never say something as ridiculous as that!” He’s never really been into painting your face white with cum, he’d rather save it all for your sweet pussy. “But that cervix one really is true- I read it on the internet!”

Jimin swipes two fingers through the mess that is your pussy, bringing it to his lips for one last suck before he cuddles in beside you. Suddenly, he freezes.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I? I didn’t hurt you?” He runs his hands down your body as if to check for any sore spots.

“It’ll be a while before I’m at that stage- so we should have all the kinky sex now before I’m too fat for you to tie me up,” you reassure him with your hand over his.

Jimin releases a breath against the back of your neck. “Kinky sex hm? I could be down for that.” There is a moment of silence as he draws mindless patterns on your lower belly, and your eyes flutter closed before you hear his soothing voice again. “I’m so excited to see our baby. I want more babies after this. Hey, we should have a gender reveal party. Or a baby shower. For real this time.”

It’s so adorable that he’s so excited about all this. “We should invite Yoongi too. I think they should have popped out their baby by now. I want to put Yeji to shame by being hotter than she was when she was pregnant.”

“Of course baby,” Jimin muffles his laughter into your shoulder. “We’ll do that.”

You hear your phone ping from somewhere far away, and it wakes you up just as you’re about to drift off to sleep. You stir Jimin awake with your elbow and make him fetch your phone for you. With many grumbles about how he better get extra kisses for this, he leaves the bed for a moment, and deposits your phone in your hands before snuggling back under the covers.

You unlock your phone and open your mail app. Your delighted gasp wakes Jimin once more, and he’s wide awake the next moment.

“What is it!? Did the baby kick?” He doesn’t stop to think when he’s alarmed, but it’s adorable.

“It’s too early for that,” you say as you do a double take at the words on your screen. You can feel the smile spreading across your face as you read the email again. Jimin sits up in bed and squints at your phone screen.

“I got a job offer!”

[hahanoiwont]

1. What kind of relationship does WT Frisk have with Nightmare & co? Is it family-like or is it friendship-like? Does WT Frisk get along with all the bad sanses?

2. What if WT Frisk met Ink and Dream first? What would their relationship with Frisk be like?

3. I know that in your fanfic Whither then, Frisk has some kinda nonchalant attitude about dying again and again. What kinda of reactions would the skeleton bros have when finding out that Frisk has died so many times to point of Frisk becoming numb to dying?

4. I know I’m asking a lot of questions, so sorry about. But I love your fanfics and they make me happy and sad when reading them. If Frisk agreed with Red to stay immortal and stop aging, would all the multiverse sanses and Papyruses be happy about that?

Thank you so much for answering my long winded questions. 😆

oh no this was buried in my askbox, I am sorry for losing it for so long! So without further ado:

1. Does WT Frisk get along with all the bad sanses?

Yeah! I'd say in the bad sanses au (mostly readable here) Frisk gets on well with mostly everyone--those of them with specifically Frisk/Chara-related trauma might take a while to adjust, but most of them have already met Frisk before they even get to Nightmare's place. This is after Frisk and Dust have been traveling together for a while, so of course they get along. They actually have to work more on the idea of being separated sometimes, when Dust goes on missions and Frisk isn't constantly with him. They've been traveling together for several universes, and while Frisk is an independent kid, Dust has been about 3 feet from them, max, for much of that time. Mostly because he doesn't actually have any means of traveling through the multiverse himself, besides just catching on Frisk's shoulder as they go. If they'd happened to go and leave him behind, he'd be stranded. Thus, the two of them were more or less attached at the hip, especially towards the end of any given run. I think that habit would be hard to break, even when they're rooming with several new people and Dust has a sorta-kinda real job.

Likely, this starts out with Frisk just hanging out with Horror, and Dust coming with them as a matter of course while they do things he's not particularly interested in. So, Dust and Horror reach a comfortable mutual tolerance fairly quickly, mostly because Dust is apathetic and Horror is busy enjoying the reunion. But I imagine the first mission they go on is a whole stressfest for everyone involved, given Horror's abandonment issues, Frisk's abandonment issues, and Dust's discomfort with addressing social situations without Frisk to run interference. So, that would be a Time.

2. What if WT Frisk met Ink and Dream first?

Hmm. Let's say it's maybe a sort of Outertale situation, where Ink and Dream happen to be in a world that they're monitoring for Shenanigans when, lo and behold, a Shenanigan drops in their laps!

This is never covered in Outertale bc Comet doesn't know about it, but the general outcode community deals with people not being where they belong by trying to find some place they can belong in. Being as it's pretty unsustainable to try sending Frisk back to UF, they'd likely try to set them up with an AU that's expressly for homeless universe-wanderers. That way, Frisk isn't wandering through AUs that aren't supposed to have an outcode presence in them, and there's a minimum of interference. So...I think that lands Frisk in some place like the omega timeline, or haventale?

I think somewhere like that would be pretty good for them, actually--they're surrounded by people who have all also lost their homes, and loved ones, and who are also trying to build a new life after all of that. Somehow, I see them making friends with a post-genocide version of one of the swap bros? Or. actually. Disbelief!Papyrus. To my understanding that's Classic Papyrus as the survivor of a genocide run in which Sans was killed before the Judgement Hall, so Papyrus is the one to wait in the Hall and confront the human for murdering his brother. I think that Papyrus would have a lot to say about Sans as a flawed but beloved individual who is now gone forever, which Frisk would be able to empathize with after their experience with Red. I think after some initial wariness, they could be dear friends to one another.

3. What kinda of reactions would the skeleton bros have when finding out that Frisk has died so many times to point of Frisk becoming numb to dying?

Well! Not best pleased, of course--learning that a loved one has died, even if they're back to being alive now, can't be easy. Of course, the Sanses generally know, or suspect--Red absolutely knows they've died, and has some specific deaths that he deduced in fairly accurate detail from Frisk's reactions and his own nightmares/deja vu moments. Ironically, he also has some nightmares about deaths that didn't happen, and assumes that those are also real. Blue, if you recall, thought he'd killed them in a past genocide run; Black and Slim were both aware of the possibility that they could time travel but ultimately dismissed their suspicions when Frisk proved to be able to REFUSE instead. US!Papyrus has learned that they can time travel and has done his best to take it in stride, but has avoided thinking too hard about the implications of that. Shy was also intellectually aware of the possibility, but he decided he didn't want to know.

However, in terms of new information, I think Fell would take it the hardest. He would see it as an absolutely crushing failure--not only did he not keep them safe from their own brother, he didn't keep them safe at all. He would seriously start to question whether he's of any use to them at all--which, given his ideas about attachment, would lead him to feel he doesn't have a place in their life. He would definitely take it personally that they died so much when he was purportedly protecting them.

I think his ultimate decision, reached without discussing the matter with anyone else, would be that he's Definitely Failed as a brother, both to Red and to Frisk, and he's just not capable of keeping anyone safe. Clearly he is simply not meant to experience love. He can save his world from itself but he can never keep a single person from suffering. I think at this point US!Papyrus would step in, because clearly someone has to, and remind Fell that he's still extremely violent and paranoid. If it came down to a duel to the death to keep their respective siblings safe, Fell would win by a landslide. This would actually make Fell feel better. Surely, if US!Papyrus is worthy of love despite being totally unable to kill a dozen people in an afternoon, Fell must be fine. He will just do Better from now on. No One Will Ever Die Again. Which is good, considering that murder is illegal now due to Fell's extensive efforts.

4. If Frisk agreed with Red to stay immortal and stop aging, would all the multiverse sanses and Papyruses be happy about that?

Well, I think that depends on exactly how they come to be immortal...I think the easy answer would be to absorb a boss monster's soul, since boss monsters don't naturally age, and go from there. Which would be an unpopular plan, generally. Especially since Frisk is quite young currently, and not at immediate risk of dying, barring unusual circumstances. It would just seem like a drastic move for a time that's so far away.

I think it would also depend on Frisk's attitude on it--if it's something that they're relieved about, or something they were pushed into, or even something they approached Red about in the first place.

Exceptions exist--Red would be both smug (he did a Good Thing. no one else even thought of it but he did) and quietly relieved; Fell would disapprove of Red being a bad influence on Frisk if the method were particularly violent but would notably not obstruct the process and not let anyone else stop it, either; Slim would be all for as long as Frisk was alright with it; and Black would insist that it's their choice and his approval or disapproval isn't what's important here. Though he would be likely to corner Red later and convey his gratitude through terrifying and questionable means.

Sfrisks would think that all of these people are insane.

Hoo boy this got long, but,, thank you for sending in these asks! I love answering these questions, even if it takes me a while to actually get to the answering bit. I appreciate it!

[sammystep]

No One Lives Forever- CH6

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

<Previous Chapter    Next Chapter>

Jotaro is woken up by the gentle rays of the sun shining through the only window of the room, feeling not necessarily more well rested than usual but calmer. Contented. You are still asleep when he turns to face you. Neither of you had moved much during the night but he’s surprised your hands are still linked together on top of the blankets. He takes a second to decide if he really wants to be awake right now, he’s not used to feeling happy to wake up next to someone else. But ultimately, he’s not tired enough to fall back to sleep and it feels creepy to just stare at someone while they sleep. So, he carefully separates his hand from yours and gets ready for the day.

Exiting the attached bathroom after finishing his morning routine he sees that you’ve also woken up. Well maybe ‘awake’ isn’t the right word. You’re sitting up in the bed but he can’t see if your eyes are even open with how low your head is hanging, your hair obscuring your face. You seem to sense him getting closer and lift your head, only one eye open and squinting at him. Jotaro can’t help the chuckle that slips past his lips, it seems you are not much of a morning person.

“It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”

You have no arguments to this. With a sigh and a flop, you move yourself to the center of the bed and curl all the blankets and sheets around you. Jotaro catches a mumbled “OK. Thanks,” as he picks up his half-torn hat from the night stand and leaves the room.

He’s not surprised to see that Avdol and Kakyoin are already awake and enjoying the start of their day in peace and quiet, counting down the moments till Polnareff and Joseph wake up. Hmm, he should have warned them to be quiet before he went to bed last night. Then again, he didn’t really stick around after dinner to talk things out with his pack. The blood rushes to his cheeks and he tilts his head down so the brim of his hat can shield him. Good grief, they must think he’s some love-struck pup. One girl shows up and he drops all responsibilities to follow after her…

“Ah! Jotaro!” Joseph doesn’t exactly shout at him, but it’s close as the older man walks down the hall, Polnareff following behind him. “Good to see you’re up! You disappeared on us last night.”

“Well can you blame him? Who wants to hang out with us when there is a pretty girl in your bed?”

Jotaro growls a bit at Polnareff, “Don’t be perverted. Both of you knock it off.”

“Easy son, we’re just kidding. Right Pol?” Joseph elbows the platinum blond hard in the stomach. It was one thing for him to tease his grandson, but Pol had a habit of taking things too far. Better to nip this in the bud before they get into a real fight over it. Pol wheezes out a half-hearted apology and Joseph turns back to Jotaro with a more serious look in his eye.

“All joking aside, we do need to discuss this. As a pack.”

Jotaro nods and gestures for the other two men to make their way to the lounge. Once everyone is seated Joseph begins, “So. As exciting as yesterday was, we need to do some damage control and planning. We need to figure out if this was just a rogue group or if they had purpose for being this far out away from towns.”

“Avdol said (y/n)’s wounds were from small shot, and not a killing blow.” Kakyoin added, “But the pellets were silver. Someone was hunting wolves specifically. And planning on taking them captive.”

“We need more information. I’ll lead Polnareff and Gramps back to where I left the hunters. We can see if there are any more clues to who they were.” Jotaro stands as he announces the plan, “Kakyoin, Avdol. Hold down the fort here. I’m trusting you two with…”

“Ah, I see how it is. You don’t want me around for my amazing tracking skills- non! You just don’t want two, what did you call us? Perverts? Around the little lady.”

With a sigh, Joseph starts forcibly pushing Polnareff out the front door. “We’ll be outside Jotaro. Someone needs a lesson on what is appropriate to joke about so early in the morning.” The front door closes with a slam and a muffled smack is heard soon after.

Jotaro shakes his head and exhales loudly out his nose. “Well, he’s half right. Except I do need his tracking skills for this.” He catches the smirks from the remaining two men. “We won’t be too far out I don’t think. Howl if anything goes wrong, we’ll keep an ear out.”

“Same to you. Good luck finding what you need.” Avdol bids him farewell and Kakyoin gives a small wave farewell as Jotaro joins the other two outside.

Polnareff is holding the back of his head and looking more downcast than when he was inside, the older alpha must have dished out some discipline to the younger man. “Hey, Jotaro. No hard feelings, right? I was only joking.”

“It’s fine. This whole situation just has me on edge. Just… don’t.”

“Ah, no worries mon amie! I promise I won’t make anymore jokes about our new packmate.”

“New packmate? Hmm. We’ll need to discuss that later. First things first.” Jotaro motioned with a nod to the forest in front of them. “I’ll take lead getting us there. I left them by the lake but think we need to bring some shovels just in case. That ecosystem can’t handle all of the bodies at once.”

Gathering up some shovels and rope the three men made their way into the forest, backtracking the smell of blood past an outcropping of rocks then turning sharply to the south. The trip took about a half hour on foot, covering up the blood trail as they went to prevent any nosy hikers or forestry department personnel from following it. Finally, they reached their destination, not far from the clearing where you first saw Jotaro in his beastly form.

The remains from the four werewolf hunters were scattered over the forest floor, and although Jotaro had been fast at dispatching them, he was also brutal. Savage bites and claw marks indicated that all four were assuredly dead before Jotaro left them, none of them had bled out. Small scavengers had already made a meal out of the easy pickings, by the scent of the trail it must have been a few coyotes.

Polnareff goes up to the nearest body and starts rummaging in the pockets, Jotaro and Joseph follow his lead. Gathering wallets, extra ammo, and gear they bring what they find to a clear spot not to far away, making sure to keep the belongings separated according to which body they were found on as per Polnareff’s instructions.

As Jotaro searches through the pockets of the last hunter, something seems off to him about this body. None of the others had smelled like anything supernatural, the opposite; they had smelled just of silver and wolfbane. “Gramps, Pol. Come take a look at this one. Or a smell I should say.” The other two meet him at the side of the corpse. “You guys ever smell something like that? It’s not coming from him, more like he touched something and it stuck to him.”

“Hmm, that is weird. He doesn’t have any gear that is giving off that smell, does he?” Joseph crouches down to get a better look at the man. “Pol? Hey Pol, snap out of it!”

Polnareff seems to be in shock from the scent that is clinging to the dead hunter, “I… I know that smell. I had hoped to never catch a whiff of him again!”

“You know it? Well spit it out man!” Joseph shouts, impatient with the younger man’s stalling.

“I met him years before I joined this pack. He called himself DIO!” Polnareff exclaims before grabbing Joseph by the shoulders, “That man; he’s pure evil. I’ve never met another creature like him before or since!”

“You said DIO? That can’t be! How would he have…” Joseph’s eyes go wide as he shouts back in Polnareff’s face, “OH MY GOD! That slimy son of a bitch! After all these years! All these centuries!”

“Old man, what are you talking about?” Jotaro basically pries Polnareff’s hands from his grandpa, both men so distracted that they don’t notice. “Who the hell is DIO?”

“I… I don’t know where to begin! Polnareff is right, he’s the living incarnation of evil! My grandfather, Jonathan, was killed by that bastard! And my father as well by his devoted followers!” Joseph clenches his fists and grits his teeth, “He is the enemy of all Joestars!”

“Hold on old man, you are saying that this guy, DIO, killed your grandpa? How do you even know he’s talking about the same guy? It’d be impossible for it to be him,” Jotaro looks between Polnareff and Joseph, “look, we will talk about this more at the cabin. For right now we need to focus. Besides the weird smell that may- or may not- be this mythical DIO guy, what else do we have to go on?”

Joseph takes a deep breath and collects himself, Polnareff however remains on edge as the cloying stink of magic remains in the air.  “You’re right son, you’re right. Ok, the guy over there had his wallet on him. Just his ID, some credit cards and some cash.” Joseph pulls out the items one by one from the wallet, replacing the cards and cash and keeping the ID out to look at.

Polnareff regains his focus and takes a closer look at the ID. Pulling out the wallets and IDs from the other hunters he studies each one. “The addresses, they are all from the boroughs around the city. Except smelly guy here, he’s from Jersey.”

“Gramps, hold onto those. We can do some research when we get back. Anything else?” Joseph nods to Jotaro and holds out some of the ammo collected from the hunter’s gear.

“Found extra shot on them, its all silver by the smell.”

“And I found this on the other guy over there.” Polnareff holds out a thin strap, made of some kind of flexible plastic with a large protruding box fitted to it. “It looks like it has a clasp. I’m going to see if I can get it working.” As Polnareff clicks together the clasp the box device beeps loudly in the stillness of the forest. A puff of air is released right before a static shock emits from the prongs hidden on the inside of the box. Quickly, Polnareff drops it to avoid being shocked and steps back. “Uggh. I think I’m gonna be sick. Smells like… concentrated wolfsbane.”

Once the initial shock is discharged Jotaro quickly unclasps the collar and deactivates the device. “We’ll take this stuff back with us, let Avdol and Kakyoin have a look. See if (y/n) recognizes any of them from their ID’s.” Surveying the area quickly Jotaro makes a decision, “We’re further from the lake than I thought. We’ll have to bury them all.”

The men make quick work of digging the shallow graves, barely an hour goes by before they are dumping the last body into a ditch. Polnareff makes sure to rip a piece of the fabric from the odd smelling man for further investigation. As they finish their grim work Jotaro picks up on his grandfathers’ pensive mood and unusual silence. “What are you thinking about, gramps?”

“Hmm. It’s that man, DIO. I know you don’t believe that the DIO Polnareff mentioned could be the same as the one who killed our ancestor, but the coincidence… That he’s another evil man named DIO that is now entangled in the Joestar bloodline? And the whole reason we’re here, at the cabin at all…”

“I agree with Mr. Joestar, the coincidence is too unlikely to not be fate. Non, there is something at work here.”

“You think the appearance of this DIO guy and the city getting more dangerous for wolves is connected somehow?” Jotaro pinches the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes, “Polnareff, you said you met him years before you joined us. That would put the timing right around when wolves started going missing in the city.”

Joseph nods sagely at this connection made, “I’ll give Caesar a ring when we get back, let him and Suzie know we’re cutting this trip short.” He crosses his arms and snorts, “Even if this has nothing to do with DIO, these hunters were here to capture a wolf alive. They didn’t know we were here, which is more concerning cause it means their operation has escaped my notice! I’m Joseph Joestar! And they’ve been abducting wolves outside of MY CITY? Under MY NOSE?” The bristly hair on Josephs arms and face stand on end as he nearly triggers a shift in his anger.

Polnareff is not doing much better to contain himself, the memories of meeting the evil man replaying in his head. Combined with the knowledge of what the hunters were set out to do. “(y/n) said they drove her off the road yesterday. I’m going to take a walk and see if I can find the cars and more clues.” There is a deep growl permeating Polnareff’s words and Jotaro can tell he’s going to take the walk in his wolf form. “I’ll meet you back when I’m done.”

“Take the time you need to cool off Pol.” Jotaro nods at the blond in understanding, the gravity of the situation sitting heavily on everyone’s shoulders. “We’ll see if (y/n) knows anything else about these guys or what they were doing. She’s our only living link to this right now.” Polnareff sighs and nods back, already starting his shift into a massive white werewolf. He quickly picks up the trail the hunters left and sets out on his own.

Jotaro and Joseph follow the trail back to the cabin in silence.

The smell of bacon and eggs hits them as they walk through the front door. A quick look in the kitchen reveals its Kakyoin taking his turn to prepare the meal, you and Avdol are in the dining room setting the table for brunch. Avdol is the first to greet them, “Welcome back. Find anything of interest?” His eyebrows furrow, “Where is Polnareff? Did he not come back with you?”

“No, he went on ahead to check out the cars for clues.” Jotaro says, shaking his head. “We found some things… Lets talk about this after we eat.” Avdol just nods and makes his way to the kitchen to help Kakyoin. Jotaro turns to you and you feel his eyes sweep over you quickly. You’re still dressed in his borrowed night clothes as you have nothing to change into. “Your leg doing better today?”

“Yeah, much better. Just a little stiff, and Mr. Avdol helped me change the bandage already. I should be good as new in a few days.”

“Good. That’s good.” Jotaro sticks his hands in his pockets and leans back. “Like I said, you can stay as long as you need. We… well we’ll discuss it after breakfast, but there was some concerning stuff we found out there. And, I’d… We’d feel better if you stuck with us for a while.”

You frown a bit as the seriousness of the situation weighs on your shoulders, “That makes sense. Honestly, I’m not in a hurry to go wandering off on my own again. Its… nice. Being with other wolves again.” You smile at him and you swear there’s a hint of a smile on his face too before both of your attention snaps to the doorway where Kakyoin is carrying in a serving plate of food. Avdol and Joseph follow him in with the rest of the meal and drinks and you all sit down at the table. “Should we wait for Mr. Polnareff?” You ask looking around at the other men.

Jotaro shakes his head, “No. We don’t know how long he’s going to be gone. We’ll set him aside a plate and some leftovers.” Joseph nods in agreement before starting to pass around the food. The meal is eaten in near silence, Joseph and Jotaro’s tense mood spreading to the others. Once the meal is finished and leftovers put away the pack reconvenes at the dining room table.

Joseph lays the items they took off the hunter’s bodies in the center of the table, “This is the stuff we found on them. As you can see,” he gestures to the rounds of ammunition and the collar device they found, “they came prepared.”

“(y/n), can you tell us if you recognize any of these men?” Jotaro passes the IDs to you as Kakyoin and Avdol examine the other items more closely.

You study the faces and names closely but nothing seems familiar to you. Their photos are almost disturbingly normal looking, they look like average guys but they were capable of such violence? “No, I’ve never met them at all. At least not before yesterday.”

“That’s part of what has us so on edge actually.” Joseph lifts his chin to nod at the collection of gear on the table. “They were professional hunters then. You weren’t targeted for personal reasons. Just the nature of what you are.”

“What is the other concerning part then?” Kakyoin questions the alpha.

“We believe you were right when you deduced that they intended to take (y/n) with them alive. We found this,” Jotaro taps the band of the collar device with his index finger, “on one of the hunters. When the clasp is latched it releases concentrated wolfsbane and an electric shock.” You go pale as you wrap your arms around yourself for comfort. The rest of the pack looks pale and shaken as well, hard stares looking at the cursed device and glancing to you occasionally. “(y/n). We need you to tell us exactly what happened. Starting with where you came in contact with these guys.”

You nod and take a sip of your water before starting your summary of events. “I realized there was something wrong when I left the last town I stayed in; I think it was still in Pennsylvania at the time. I picked up some under the table waitressing job to make some cash and was on my way to see Niagara Falls for my next stop.” You look at the IDs laid out on the table again, pointing to one of them, “I noticed a white van pull out behind me, I think this guy was driving it. I remember his dumb Clark Kent looking glasses. Anyway, I thought it was just another driver at first, until I had to make a pitstop for gas. They must have been far enough back that I didn’t see them get off on the same exit, but when I got back to my car after paying, I saw the van pull around the side of the building.”

You blush and look down at the table, “I kind of panicked then, instead of getting back on the freeway I took some random turns in hopes I would lose them. I thought I did and just ended up driving for a few hours north. But then they caught up to me.” You put your arm on the table and rest your forehead in your palm, “I was looking for a good place to turn off and just fight them, but they ran me off the road before I could find a place. When I got out, I tried to run but they shot at me.” You pick your head up to look at Jotaro, his face set in grim determination as he listened to your account of events. “I guess you know the rest. Jotaro showed up after they shot me a second time and here we are.” You motion around you with your hands.

“Hmm. So they followed you on your way out of town yesterday morning. Had you ever seen them before? Maybe they were customers in the restaurant?” Kakyoin says as he studies the faces on the IDs.

“Its possible. Everyone seems to blend together when you work a job like that.”

“My question is: why did they target you? How did they figure it out that you weren’t human?” Joseph scratches his beard as he looks up at the ceiling. “They have this special gear for hunting wolves, maybe Polnareff will find something in the van?”

“I can’t imagine they caught me slipping up. I am usually very careful with how and when I shift. And I can’t think of anything that happened in public that would have drawn attention.” You shake your head as you examine one of the extra shotgun shells in front of you.

Jotaro taps you on the forearm to get your attention for his next question, “You said things were getting bad for lone wolves. We’ve heard similar rumors in the city, that’s why we are all the way out here. What else do you know about those rumors?”

“Hmm, well there are the normal things you hear about- runaways and lone wolfs having bad run ins with religious nuts. But for a few years now, it’s been more than just that. Whole families go missing sometimes, or someone just barely gets away and after a few weeks they’re gone too.” You shudder and hold yourself again at the memory of the horror stories you’ve heard. “They say it’s a new gang- they’re recruiting or trafficking or something. But the worst stories are about the boss. They say he’s a supernatural creature too- immortal and invincible. Calls himself a lord.”

“(y/n)… calls himself what. What is his name?” Joseph looks like he’s seen a ghost, face white as paper and eyes wide.

“They call him Lord DIO.”

<Previous Chapter   Next Chapter>

Author’s Note:

You were expecting a romance werewolf fic- BUT IT WAS I! DIO!

So this is going to turn into a full Stardust Crusade AU- but when I say AU I mean there are only hints of canon left.

Also, Polnareff, are you trying to upset your pack alpha before he leads you into the forest to the bodies of people he’s killed with only his grandpa as a witness?

Also- no hate intended for people from New Jersey lol. I’ve never even been there and I’m sure you are all lovely, but Pol has issues with you (at least in this fic)

[palmett-hoes]

i so agree on the thea/kevin thing. i do think they end up together though - not because i particularly think they're good for each other but because sometimes people end up in relationships they settle for and maybe they change and maybe they don't but sometimes life is just like that. thats kind of why i particularly like how nora makes it clear that allison doesn't end up with a man because she tends to seek out the anger issues + doesn't want to help themselves type of man. it b liek dat smt

hmm okay. i think first i want to address what i mean when i answer asks, especially one like the kevin and thea ask you're mentioning. just because i'm writing it doesn't necessarily mean i'm committing to the idea 100% and it doesn't mean it's what i believe 100% will happen. it's a possibility and more than that it's an idea i'm exploring for the moment

that was an analysis of how i view their dynamic, with some predictions based on that specific interpretation, and the end part was a best-case scenario if everything worked out perfectly. but you're right, a best-case scenario doesn't always happen. people's lives don't always play out perfectly and they don't always find the perfect right person that they're with forever. and sometimes they settle for something that's stable or familiar and that's not even necessarily a bad thing

what's really great about transformative work like fandom is that i don't have to stick to just one idea. i can entertain the idea of a perfect world for kevin and thea where they break up but stay friends and help each other overcome the trauma and conditioning of the nest, and at the same time i can also entertain the world where they fall a little flat of that, and still end up together and sometimes kevin sits up at night and looks at his wife and asks himself "do i love her? am i happy?" and knows that the answer isn't a resounding yes, but that she's still his partner and they have a daughter together who he wouldn't trade for anything. analytically, you can make an argument for either of those pathways, or even one where kevin and thea get marriage counseling and end up the happiest most in-love couple in the world, or a million others

you can create a post-canon where anything happens. one where kevin meets the love of his life, one where kevin never meets anyone, one where kevin suffers a career ending injury at 26 that this time he truly never recovers from. as a creator i can explore each and every one of these options for him and think of them all as equally real and equally possible, even if i'm thinking about two completely different ones at the exact same time

it's a story. it all comes down to what i'm feeling at that moment, what I'm looking to explore. do i need a pick-me-up? do i want catharsis? am i angry? sad? cruel? do i want to deconstruct the notion of the cold war nuclear family? do i just want a good time? you get out what you bring in

whatever i end up typing is a reflection of what i'm thinking and feeling in that moment. i may want to look at it completely differently in another moment

but i do agree that i like to keep a little reality regardless, and i also like that nora did too. she didn't give everyone a perfect happy ending with a marriage and kids and i think that's right for the statement she was making with the series

and sometimes i like that, sometimes i want a world that's a little softer around the edges for a bit. that's for me to decide

but if you want my strictest, most true-to-life, mirror of reality take on what happens in post-canon, okay

---

i still don't think that kevin and thea end up together, because there's at least two more years on kevin's college contract and no guarantee he'll go onto thea's pro team from there, and i don't think either of them will really be trying to stay in touch. long-distance is hard. long-distance when you're not even trying is impossible. i don't even think they explicitly break up it's just they realize they haven't spoken in months and don't even have each others' current addresses so they avoid eye contact if they ever happen to be in the same room and eventually one of them has a 30-second news spot about dating someone new and that puts the final shred of uncertainty between them to rest

kevin never really finds someone. he's too committed to exy, as a pro-player and as whatever he does after, and he's never going to tell anyone that his life is technically owned by the mafia. maybe he has a convenient marriage or two with some other celebrity that ends in divorce. he's not really particularly concerned with it and when he's old he doesn't regret it. maybe he never wanted a partner in the first place

it's aaron and katelyn that i think are the most likely to end up the way you described kevin and thea. they get married and they stay married but really they're married to their jobs as doctors. and as the years go on they sometimes wonder why they're still together but it's too much of a pain to sort through their shared finances and they're not unhappy, so they stay together. maybe one or both has an affair that they hide, but even if the other knew it probably wouldn't change anything. their house is really expensive and in a really nice location, it's not worth the divorce

dan and matt also probably get married, but i don't think it stays. matt seems like the type to want kids, and dan seems like the type to hate the idea. irrevocable difference. eventually they have to split. matt definitely remarries and has his kids. dan may remarry, she may not, her job is her primary concern. they stay amicable, but it's tense for a few years. they really rocks the foxes, because it's the only internal breakup between two of them

andrew and neil are both the most stable and the most happy of the foxes, because they know how to communicate and they know how to fight for each other. but also because neither of them has any grand notions of romance or true love. they didn't build their relationship on passion, they built it on understanding and cooperation. to them, a person to wake up to in the morning or sit by a window with IS a miracle. it shocks a lot of the foxes who all either subconsciously or not thought that their own relationships were better or healthier or more destined to last than andrew and neil's. over the years all the other foxes have come to them at least once, in private, looking for advice. they'd be lying if the irony of so many years of being given unasked for relationship advice coming full circle didn't make them just a but smug

nicky and erik are the other long-term success of the foxes. if nicky can stay with the twins at their worst he can shelter through normal relationship drama. still the hardest part for him is when the relationship ultimately becomes familiar, as they all do. he's always buying relationship books and planning dates and setting up relationship retreats because he's honestly so afraid of being alone if he likes the flame die. sometimes it's honestly the biggest strain on his relationship, all the frantic effort he puts in, but they get through it

renee never marries or really has any significant relationships. she says she's married to jesus and her job but she's still always a little bit haunted by her past in a way that holds her back from truly opening up to a partner. she adopts several kids though, somewhat later in life, because she believes that she can pass on the chances that stephanie gave her, and that's more important than romance

allison has a string of wild marriages and even wilder divorces that are usually the highlight of fox get-togethers. she has a child by accident and she isn't a wonderful mother. dan and renee are both very involved with her kid, for many years more than she is. when the kid is nearly an adult allison finally pulls her head out of her ass to see that she missed so much of the only relationship she can't annul. at that point she quits relationships and focuses on fixing things. it's a slow, painful process, but they manage to be close later in life

---

so, do i necessarily WANT all of these things to happen? no, many of them are quite sad. but all of them are good stories, and all of them are realistic in the sense that they are reflective of what happens in real people's lives

this is one version of how i think post-canon plays out. of course, i may change my mind later, or fiddle with the details, or want to play with an entirely different idea for one or more or all of the characters

[ashleybenlove]

Title: Tabloids

Prompt: imagine person a of your polyship is a celebrity, and the paparazzi’s caught pics of them with their different partners

a lot of tabloids write articles about how a is cheating with multiple individuals until a comes forward on their own to clarify that they’re polyamorous, and all their partners know about (and are dating) each other, too

Fandom: How To Train Your Dragon

Pairing: Hiccup/Astrid/Fishlegs/Snotlout/Ruffnut/Tuffnut (polyamorous gang)

Word Count: 1366

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Slurs, commentary on the media/paparazzi

Disclaimer: I don’t own the source material in this fanfic. That’s to whatever company or person owns it. I would never claim to own it.

Notes: There are probable influences from fandom and whatnot in this story. This was written for @polyshipprompts’ polyship week. I used the following prompt which is reprinted above. This story is a modern AU and it is loosely based off of my experiences of playing The Sims 4 with the Dragon Riders. My tag for that is ashleybenlove Sims the Dragon Riders. This is also on AO3.

And it is under the read more.

     Astrid growled. Just going to the supermarket to buy groceries meant she was confronted with the tabloid fodder that was currently proclaiming how she was cheating on one of her partners with four other people. Right there, as she was trying to check out. What trash! Not wanting to take it out on the retail clerk who had nothing to do with the tabloid’s contents, Astrid took a deep breath before she completed her transaction.

 It bothered her immensely to see those telephoto shots of her on a date with one of her partners, or kissing them, and then seeing a headline that said, “Trouble in Paradise?” or “Astrid Cheats Repeatedly!!!” or “Astrid Has Multiple Affairs!” or some other version of a clickbait title except with magazines.

 Maybe she should have Fishlegs shop for groceries. He was fantastic at this sort of thing.

 She could have stayed at home, cuddling with some of them. It was much preferable than being confronted by incredibly judgmental and highly inaccurate nonsense.

 At least all her partners knew it was garbage.  

 They knew the truth, and ultimately, that was most important.

 But… ugh, she didn’t want to be seen as a cheater, because it was categorically wrong.

 Plus, as a celebrity, she had to maintain a certain reputation, and unfortunately, she was beholden to public opinion in the way that only famous people are. And given that she used multiple social media accounts, she had to deal with that as well.

 She was currently ignoring her social media accounts.

      “How was grocery shopping?” Fishlegs asked, later, as everyone worked to get their groceries put away.

 “Fine. It would have been great except for tabloids!” Astrid exclaimed. “You were right, you should have gone instead.”

 “I don’t take pleasure in being right about that,” Fishlegs said.

 She probably would have kissed him or he probably would have kissed her if they didn’t have bags full of groceries in their arms.

 “You didn’t run into any paparazzi?” Hiccup asked, putting away various canned food items.

 “I’d be happy to punch some for you,” Snotlout said, sticking various frozen meat items in the freezer.

 “Same!” Ruffnut exclaimed. “I’m always willing to fight paparazzi.”

 “Yes, I certainly saw some inside and outside the store, but I don’t think it’d be good publicity if my partners fought the paparazzi,” Astrid said. She released a sigh.

 “We could always flip the bird on our dates,” Ruffnut said.

 “Flipping the bird!” Tuffnut exclaimed.

 “Or yell at Internet commenters,” Snotlout said.

 “Oh, let me guess, the Internet’s talking about my love life too?” Astrid said. She growled. She did not want to deal with that. Far too overwhelming. The Internet could be overwhelming for anyone, but for a famous person? Even more so.

 Once the groceries were put away, Astrid sat on their lovely large couch, and was surrounded by her partners.

 Astrid sighed happily, snuggling close to them. She felt calm and safe and her worries drifted away.

 This was short-lived.

      Whoops.

 Checking her email was not fun. Ugh.

 She didn’t want to deal with this.

 She was tired of the assumption of cheating.

 And the way people treated women who they assumed were cheating really made her furious.

 She yelled at her computer.

 She wanted to take her computer mouse and throw it at the wall, letting it shatter—

 “Astrid, Internet blackout, remember!” Fishlegs shouted from another room.

 “They’re being misogynistic!” she exclaimed. “And they’re wrong!”

 A few moments later, Fishlegs entered the room she was in, and gently moved his hand to indicate to come with him.

 “Let’s go meditate, hmm?” Fishlegs asked in a calming, soothing voice.

 “I don’t want to meditate; I want to yell at people on the Internet!” Astrid exclaimed.

 “That’s not gonna help, you know that?” Fishlegs said softly. “Come on, we’ll all meditate together. It’ll be nice and soothing.”

 And it was.

 And it provided help to her situation because she realized she had a simple solution to it.

 Considering that she lived in a world where celebrities, such as herself, had social media accounts where they could sound off on their topic of choice, usually to promote their work and to interact with fans.

 She could easily just… come out with the actual truth, instead of letting the tabloids say whatever they want. She was allowed to do that. She would talk to her partners about it first, obviously. Just to make sure no one was outed without their consent.

 Thus, while they were relaxing together, she said, “So, I’ve been thinking about this whole… the tabloids and such think I’m a cheating whore situation.”

 There was definite negative reaction to the slur.

 “Yes, I know they’re misogynist jerks,” Astrid said. “Moving on. I think the best course of action would be if I released a statement, written or video, that is me saying: actually, I am a polyamorous person, and those five people? They’re all my partners. It’s all above-board, they all know about each other, and are dating each other as well. The twins are not dating each other, obvi, blah blah blah.”

 She saw Hiccup in particular nod in response, clearly thinking it made sense. Fishlegs looked to be thinking.

 “I won’t do it unless you all agree,” Astrid said.

 “No pressure,” Ruffnut said, in a teasing, joking tone. She paused and then added, “But all joking aside, I agree with you doing that.”

 “Same, actually,” Tuffnut said.

 “Yeah,” Snotlout said. “Do it.”

 “It’s bothering you, I think it might make you feel better, so I think you should do it,” Fishlegs said. He looked over to Hiccup.

 They all did.

 “I have no problems with it. You should do it. And I definitely agree with Fishlegs. It might make you feel better,” Hiccup said.

 “And I think we’re all in agreement that we want you to feel better,” Fishlegs said. He smiled at her.

 They all smiled at her, in that way that made her feel so loved five times over.

       As a result, Astrid took some time to write out a statement. The statement was meant to be a statement that could be used with or without a video complement. Whilst she definitely had some strong opinions about the media and the press (especially paparazzi), she avoided spending much time on addressing them, since their behavior was generally unlikely to change. She already had a good idea of the media’s response.

 “Astrid Hofferson Breaks Silence!”

 They did that a lot. Especially in the wake of celebrity deaths and responses of celebrities to that death.

 Once she had prepared a statement that she felt was satisfactory she had her partners read it so they could give her any feedback they might have had.

 And once she was fully satisfied with that statement, she set it aside and put it where she could reference it while she made a video.

 “A lot has been written recently about my romantic life. Which, despite the fact that I am a very famous person, I still have a right to privacy. But I still would like to clarify some things, as what has been written is wrong. So, those five people I’ve been seen kissing in paparazzi photos? Those are all my romantic partners. My name is Astrid Hofferson and I am polyamorous. These five people all know about each other, and with the exception of the set of twins I am dating, also date each other. So that’s about the sum of that.”

 Included in her statement was a brief description of polyamory from the Internet, complete with a source so that people who didn’t really understand it could do research on their own. In addition to that, she had hired a professional photographer to take some great photographs of her and her partners, together, smiling and happy. The main purpose of the photo session was to share pictures of her partners and herself on her social media platforms but the gang was incredibly happy and excited with the work the photographer did, that they made sure to get framed versions of the photos to hang in their home and digital versions to keep in their phones.

[youwillcallher]

something that’s been bothering me about this season is how little dennis’ absence has been addressed, even as a joke! we know rcg and they literally never leave any plot point unaddressed, they love bringing back even tiny things from previous seasons and showing the later consequences of them (for instance, dennis continuing to impersonate brian lefevre leading to mandy and north dakota etc etc etc) so why would they not focus on it? it feels like they’re purposefully starving us for an explanation and dragging it out much longer than literally any other show would. i remember seeing an interview where glenn said something like “dennis, the character, decided to leave the bar, and we’re going to take that decision and development seriously.” but the thing is, they haven’t! 

or at least, not yet.

(putting it under a read more because this got long)

as we all know, there’s some timeline fuckery happening this season -- the gang beats boggs 2: ladies reboot happens after the super bowl (see: guigino’s waiter). this is the first time the super bowl episode has been brought up. we see it mentioned again in time’s up for the gang. rcg is clearly laying breadcrumbs leading up to the episode, and it must have some significance. 

we all know rex is back in the episode, and i don’t think it’s unreasonable whatsoever to theorize that out gay beefcake mac and rex, someone mac has been outwardly attracted to since season three, will definitely at the very least do some intense flirting, and seeing as it is the super bowl, it also wouldn’t be unreasonable to think hmm! maybe there’s a kiss cam moment in there! maybe with rex, maybe not, but i think we’re definitely going to see some very gay mac in that episode, hopefully making out with some beefcake on live television.

if that happens, which honestly seems pretty possible (why else bring rex back if not for a symbol of mac’s gay awakening and maybe the first time we see him actually getting with a guy?), i think it’s entirely plausible that it sets off the sequence of events leading to dennis coming back to philly. 

say dennis is sitting at home in ND, watching the big game (cause even if you take the man out of philly, you can’t take philly out of the man!), and the kiss cam starts rolling. he doesn’t pay much attention at first -- watching people that aren’t him make out is one of his top pet peeves, why should he give a shit if other people kiss? it’s not like they’re fucking, and more importantly, if he’s not involved, there is literally no reason to care -- but then suddenly he sees a familiar face and freezes in place. his eyes are glued to the screen, his hand stops digging through the bowl of popcorn he’s holding, his face contorts into shock then confusion then disgust: mac is making out with a guy on live tv. mac is making out with a guy on live tv. mac is making out with a guy on live tv. mac is making out with a guy on live tv.

the very next morning, dennis’ bags are packed, and he’s back to philly. not because he finally realizes he’s in love with mac and is returning to confess his undying adoration for him and win him back, like some shitty rom com. no, it’s because dennis can deal with a lot of things, sure, but watching the one person he thought would always worship and love him, someone who’s unending admiration and devotion to him has always been as constant, expected, and without deviation as (as @rcgrights brilliantly put it) the air dennis needs to breathe -- watching that person immediately move on without a second thought, on live tv, no less? this is the ultimate humiliation and betrayal in dennis’ eyes. he has no idea what the fuck the emotions he’s currently feeling are, but he knows none of them are positive, and that he wants them to stop. reminder that this is dennis “i just want everything to go back to normal” reynolds, a man who hides his dependence and insecurities under layers and layers of superiority. but yet, in a split second, all of his carefully constructed walls had come crashing down because mac, the one person he thought would always adore and desire him, apparently no longer does. if mac’s no longer in love with him, who even is he? mac’s love for him has become so deeply intertwined in the dynamic of the gang, the only people on earth he cares about, so deeply intertwined in his life, so deeply intertwined in his own psyche, that now that it’s no longer obvious he has no idea what to do with himself. he never thought it would come to this. so something has to change.

mac is, as we all know, an extremely dependent and emotionally stunted person. he had a horrible and depressing upbringing, and now, after a lifetime of being neglected, avoided, and unloved, he is stuck in the freudian pregenital stage, which is marked by feelings of intense deprivation and loss. this is something that’s always been woven into his character, even though it became clearer and clearer as time went on. back in the season five commentary for mac and dennis break up, dr. drew pinsky (an actual psychologist and doctor from celebrity rehab that, for whatever reason, rcg brought on) says about mac’s fear of abandonment in relation to dennis: “everything threatens him because he’s in an abandonment crisis right now. he got close to being abandoned so anything now is a threat.” this is a pretty accurate explanation for almost all of mac’s interactions with dennis -- the more it seems like dennis is moving away from him, the more desperate he is to have him back, and the more outwardly affectionate he is out of fear of abandonment. however, part of being as emotionally stunted as mac is not being able to properly understand what happens when people distance themselves, be that physically, emotionally, or both. to quote dr. drew talking about mac, “one thing about little kids, like, two-year-olds, they can’t tolerate coming and going. when somebody’s out of sight, they cease to exist. very primitive way of perceiving other people” to which charlie day responds “yes, mac’s very primitive.” this knowledge makes it easy to understand mac’s apparent lack of response to dennis’ absence -- out of sight, out of mind. if he’s not there, he ceases to exist. obviously, it’s not that simple, but having dennis be gone is almost a relief for mac: he doesn’t have to worry about pleasing him and gaining his love and respect anymore, because he’s not in the picture. there’s no way mac can even screw it up because he’s just not there. this is a weird and unwelcome but surprisingly freeing feeling that mac isn’t quite sure how to deal with. 

unfortunately, he doesn’t get much opportunity to find out, because before he knows it, dennis is back.

dennis is back, refusing to explain what happened, telling them to just move past it, which is strange because no one, not even dennis, leaves their family and retcons a major life decision they felt confident in for absolutely no reason. if the reason was that he got tired of being a dad, or he didn’t like mandy, or that the north dakota life was boring and just not for him, why wouldn’t he tell the gang, even in a split second off hand manner? it’s strange that he wouldn’t mention it whatsoever. unless, of course, the only reason he came back is one that dennis can’t wrap his mind around, one that for all logical conclusions shouldn’t be a reason at all. it’s just like the part of the gang does a clip show where they ask him to name one good thing about living with mac, and he can’t. mac is annoying, doesn’t pay rent or do any work, all he does is go on the dildo bike, etc.. there is no reason why dennis should keep living with him, and dennis knows that. so why has he lived with him for twenty years, why has he not taken any of the many opportunities he’s been given to move out for good, why did he not get a new apartment after coming back from north dakota, why does he still stay with mac when there’s absolutely no logical explanation for it? these are the questions that dennis desperately tries to avoid thinking about, for fear of finding out something he doesn’t want to know about himself, about mac, about them. so, he replaces these insecurities with the only things he knows how: superiority complexes, cockiness, and being an absolute dick to mac. because that means that dennis is above mac, right? he’s still himself, he’s still awesome, he doesn’t need mac, right? if he insults mac and makes it clear he’s not interested in him, then on some level that has to be true, right? 

let’s say he’s more self aware than he seems to be, though. let’s say he has some vague idea of what’s going on, or at the very least, knows he wants mac back to normal. if he wants mac to dote on him again, then why would he treat him 10x shittier than he has any other time? well, dennis prides himself on his minoring in psychology, as we all know, and even if he kind of sucks at it, there’s no way anyone with even the tiniest background in psych wouldn’t have picked up on mac’s abandonment issues. and knowing that dennis 1) knows mac so well, and 2) most likely knows how the pre-genital stage/fear of abandonment works from his past education, it’s fitting to assume that he knows that the best way to get mac immediately back under his influence is to be completely and totally awful to him. the worse dennis is to mac, the harder mac tries. and dennis is desperate for mac to try, he’s so used to having mac’s constant approval of him that now that he feels like he’s lost it, he needs it back, and needs it stronger than ever. this may be why dennis has been so awful to mac all season, but, of course, continues living with him, continues being around him, and is even back in philly in the first place. again, why else could he possibly be back? maybe this is entirely speculation and i’m reading way too deeply into everything, but it really seems as if this is one of the only explanations for dennis’ admittedly strange behavior this season. 

let’s just say that i’m anxiously and apprehensively awaiting the gang wins the big game. 

[avaantares]

So uh, I’m really really disappointed with the Torchwood fandom right now (over what you addresses in your post about being respectful/a normal human being online), and I’m just not quite sure how to deal with that. Sorry to barge in with this, but you seem like a really understanding, level-headed person 😅

I feel you, Anon, and you are certainly not the only one I’ve heard from! A number of people have told me they’ve been growing more uncomfortable with the fandom’s atmosphere lately, and have been actively avoiding posting about certain topics for fear of dogpiling. (This actually came up in a few private conversations before I made the post you referenced, and helped cement my decision to speak up.)

This post is long, so here’s a dash-saver. Below the jump I talk about the state of the Torchwood fandom, how people can avoid and resolve drama on their own posts, and some things everyone can do to make the internet a nicer place.

While my recent post was not targeted solely at the Torchwood fandom (the “how dare you differ in opinion from me” trend is disturbingly widespread; see also: politics), it is true that there has been a lot of sectionalism and polarization in that fandom lately. Fandom niches have always existed, but as the Torchwood fandom shrinks – whether due to natural attrition, lack of interest in the new content, or whatever reason – the Venn circles for each area of interest also shrink, making each group appear more segregated, and resulting in less crossover and less generalized Torchwood fandom.

Now, specific interest groups within the fandom are not a bad thing! They occur naturally, since not everyone engages with fandom the same way. Some people listen to the new Big Finish releases, while others have only seen the original series. Some people enjoy trading headcanons, while others aren’t interested. Some people create fanart or fanfiction, while others just reblog gifsets. Some people are only in the fandom for one specific character, and that’s okay! We’re all fans of the same source material; we can all share and respect each other’s unique interests!

The problems arise when we stop doing that, when interest groups become isolationist (i.e. ”we’re the only real fans”), or when one group decides their focus/interest is more important than another group’s or individual’s. If any group begins policing or calling out other fans who don’t share their views, that’s a problem. If fans are afraid to share their opinion on a topic because of the threat of harassment or name-calling from other fans, that’s a problem. If we can no longer politely discuss our respective viewpoints or agree to disagree, that’s a problem. If we all start blocking each other because we can’t get over the fact that Person A loves Gwen Cooper and Person B doesn’t, or Person C ships Person D’s NoTP, or Person E headcanons a character as a particular sexuality/alignment/whatever and Person F has a different headcanon, there will be no fandom left because everyone who loves Torchwood will be on another fan’s block list.

“But wait!” Person A cries. “[Opinion I hold] is really important to me, and is relevant to my personal identity! By disagreeing with me, Person B is being disrespectful to my identity!”

Sorry, but no. Certainly, Person A is allowed their opinion, and that opinion may well be informed by their personal identity or beliefs. But Person B is also allowed an opinion, which may also be informed by their identity or beliefs. Person A’s personal opinion is no more or less valid than Person B’s. It’s not about B being disrespectful to A by voicing an alternate opinion; it’s about both A and B showing mutual respect by acknowledging that the other person has an opinion.

Of course, just because you’re fully entitled to state an opinion doesn’t mean you are correct, or that you have license to say anything you want free of consequence. Any time you put your opinion out there, you are opening yourself up to disagreement or rebuttal.

“So how can I avoid people aggressively disagreeing with me?” Person A asks. “I hate reading dissenting viewpoints, especially on my own posts.”

Well, you have two options. Option 1 is for those who honestly can’t handle any level of conflict or disagreement, and that’s not to post your opinion at all.

“That’s no fun!” says Person A. “I like to share my opinions.”

Well, that brings us to Option 2: Set the tone of your posts. See, here’s the thing: If you post your opinion in an agonistic manner, you’re more likely to elicit agonistic response. Here’s an example of two different post tones:

A’s Post: I went outside today and looked up, and the sky looked blue to me, so I think the actual color of the sky must be blue.

This is a clear statement of opinion, phrased with supporting rationale, but it’s focused on the person who holds that opinion, rather than targeting or disparaging someone who subscribes to a different one. A dissenter might counter with this:

B’s Response: I’ve always thought the sky looked white. Those puffy spots up there are definitely white, so I think that’s the real color of the sky.

It’s relatively polite, with no offensive personal remarks, and (again) it’s focused on why they personally believe what they do. It is likely that this sort of rational discussion could continue for many exchanges without becoming heated or aggressive. Maybe one will convince the other, or maybe they’ll stick to their own beliefs and agree to disagree, but nobody’s getting hurt and nobody’s getting blocked.

Now, compare that to this type of post:

A’s Post: OMG I hate when those white-sky idiots say the sky is white, they must all be MORONS because it’s clearly BLUE and if you don’t agree you’d best unfollow me NOW because i don’t want you anywhere near my posts. This is a BLUE SKY ONLY BLOG.

This person has already personally attacked anyone with a different view, drawn a line in the sand, and declared that this is the hill they will die on – all without supporting their opinion with a shred of evidence or reason. Naturally, this will only serve to inflame the other side:

B’s Response: HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A MORON, I’ll have you know I have a Master’s Degree in Cloud Watching and I wrote my thesis on why the sky is white. Only uneducated idiots think the sky is blue. BLOCKED.

Yeah, this exchange is never going to result in any kind of rational discussion. It is already 100% emotional, and there is no actual discussing going on, just name-calling. Getting involved in this kind of argument is a waste of time and energy, will not change anyone’s mind, and will only succeed in stressing out all parties.

“But the sky really IS blue!” Person A protests. “It doesn’t matter what tone I take, I’m still right!”

Nah, in this case both sides are wrong. The sky’s apparent color depends on the angle of the sun’s rays, humidity, and the way light in the visible spectrum is scattered by air molecules. It looks blue when the sun is high, and red or orange when the sun is near the horizon, but the sky itself is colorless. (There’s your science fact for the day). Ultimately, it doesn’t matter how right OP thinks they are; chances are the other person is just as convinced that they’re right, and it’s entirely possible that you’re fighting over something completely arbitrary or fundamentally unimportant.

And that brings me back to the Torchwood fandom and the hill-I-will-die-on arguments that have been plaguing it more and more in recent months. There is one thing I think we can ALL agree on, no matter our individual interests, and that is that Torchwood’s canon is a hot buttered mess. The original TV series is internally inconsistent; the novels contradict both the TV series and other novels; the comics contradict themselves, the novels, and the TV series; Miracle Day contradicts EVERYTHING that came before, including parent series Doctor Who; and the Big Finish dramas try really hard to respect all the prior releases, and mostly just end up creating their own canon, because it’s utterly impossible to reconcile everything. If canon can’t even agree on relatively simple things like

whether or not Jack can get drunk (no: BBC novels / yes: also BBC novels)

whether or not Jack can sleep/dream (no: TV and BBC novels / yes: also TV and BBC novels, plus BBC audio dramas)

if Jack and Ianto went on a date after KKBB (yes: BBC novels / no: also BBC novels)

what year Owen was born (1980: TV and Torchwood Magazine / 1981: TV and BBC novels)

what Ianto’s sister’s last name is (Evans: The Torchwood Archives / Davies: CoE)

…there are bound to be contradictory fan views on more complex issues, and there may not be a clear “correct” or “incorrect” position. It is possible to find canon support for nearly any Torchwood headcanon, because Torchwood canon is consistently inconsistent. Don’t make every issue a hard line in the sand. Accept that people are different, and based on their own unique backgrounds and experiences, people can legitimately come to different conclusions when presented with the same canon evidence (or lack thereof).

(Hmm… it’s almost like this principle could also apply to real-life sources of conflict like politics, religion, and social and cultural norms. Maybe keeping an open mind is a good idea in general…?)

“Well, it’s MY blog, and I can say what I want,” says Person A. “If people don’t like it that’s their problem.”

That is absolutely true. But remember, whatever you put out there is likely going to come right back at you. If you go with a rude or aggressive stance, or if you make personal attacks, you should expect your replies/reblogs to be just as nasty. If you escalate, so will they.

“Okay, so what if I post something polite and someone STILL comes back with a nasty response?” Person A asks. “I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now, and it isn’t even my fault!”

There are a couple of solutions to this that don’t involve breaking out the napalm:

Check for a misunderstanding. It’s hard to interpret tone in plain text sometimes. If you think the person may have honestly misinterpreted your post, maintain the polite tone and either clarify your post, or ask them (nicely) to explain why they are so upset about what you posted. Look for resolution, rather than merely refuting their post.

Don’t respond. “Be the bigger person” may sound cliche, but believe it or not, the world will not end if you choose not to engage someone on the internet. There is great power in putting down the phone or stepping away from the keyboard, and it’s much better for your blood pressure and stress level. Plus, if that person keeps raging on posts and not getting any responses, it may make them wonder why nobody pays attention to their opinions. Speaking of which…

“YOO-HOO!” hollers Person Z from waaaaaaay over in the corner. “Hi there! I just came for the fanart, and I’d like to participate more, but I’m really stressed out by the way this fandom is arguing all around me. I’m worried that if I post anything, someone will yell at me and tell me I’m wrong. That would really upset me.”

So let’s talk positive reinforcement for a second! This is where the casual observers and innocent bystanders can have a lot of power to steer the direction that fandom grows. Ultimately, the goal of all social media is to elicit interaction, whether that’s in the form of Likes, Reblogs, Replies, Retweets, Shares, Follows, or what have you. Giving posts this kind of interaction is like praising the writer. Reblogging also makes that post visible to more people, potentially attracting them to your fandom circle. Posts with more notes get seen more, read more, and can set the tone for other fandom interactions. The more rational, polite posts get spread around and accumulate notes, the more rational, polite people will be likely to get involved, and the more likely a new post on that topic will be worded in a rational, polite way. Whereas interacting with argumentative, nasty, stressful posts will tend to make new people avoid your fandom, and will encourage more people to turn things into a drama-fest because that’s what gets the notes, and notes are currency.

So when you see a post that just looks like a slap-fight or upsets you in some way, just ignore it and keep right on scrolling. You don’t need to attract drama to yourself or your blog, and you don’t need to feed that machine. But if you see someone doing it right, or if there’s an ongoing polite discussion, consider getting involved in the conversation! You can comment, reblog, reply or just like if you don’t have anything to add. Pay the polite, thoughtful interactions in notes and let the harsh posts die an unreblogged death.

So, dear Anon, that’s a very long-winded expansion on my previous post, and one you didn’t exactly ask for. :) But you’re not alone; many of us want to initiate change for the better. I hope we can help the fandom return to the happier, more collaborative place it was not so long ago.

Be kind to each other, be respectful, let go of whatever is driving you to have the last word, and we’ll all have more fun and significantly lower blood pressure.

[somuchanemoia]

11 Questions

Hiya, everyone! I am finally back to posting on my blog more after the busy week and I am finally catching up on my tags! Woohoo! 

Thank you to the lovely @yuuricutesuki for tagging me! 

1. If you were given a one-minute ad-slot during the Super Bowl that you couldn’t sell, what would you fill it with?

Uhm...I’ve never actually thought about this before and it’s a good question. Hmm...probably a slideshow demonstrating the beautiful existence of our Lord and savior Viktor Nikiforov. I’d have Joey (@yuuris-piano)  do the music for it too. You know. Just a giant one-minute ad of Viktor Nikiforov’s face. 

2. what problem did you think was going to be common in ‘grown-up’ life as a kid? was it actually a problem or just a misconception?

For me, it was making friends as a grown-up. Like honestly, how does that happen? Like, I was the kid who hardly ever made friends until I was in high school and even then it was a struggle. I’m a sophomore in college and still haven’t made friends. Like I get that you do the same thing, but like I don’t like enough people in my lectures to actually talk to them. And I feel weird going out by myself so I just awkwardly sit and do homework and do dumb stuff by myself on friday night. So, I can say that it is still a problem?? I dunno. 

3. which fictional character would you want to be your sidekick?

Well...it depends on the mission. In real life, I feel like Yuuri would make an awesome person to have as a sidekick because he would get me really well and would just be chill with it. If I’m looking to get into trouble, I’d probably bring Lance McClain with me. If I was going anywhere where Fergalicious was playing, Chris is gonna be my sidekick. If I’m gonna go meet someone for the first time, I’m bringing Will Solace with me. 

Can like...all of my fictional favorites be my sidekicks because I need them all.

4. In your opinion, what will finally break the internet?

One of three things:

Footage of the Viktuuri wedding if we ever get it. ‘Nough said.

Klance being confirmed

J.K. Rowling writing another Harry Potter series because I really need a marauders prequel goddamnit!!!!

5. When was the last time you wished you could throw down a smoke bomb and disappear?

Everyday of my life...

Last time I saw my ex in public. I went to go get hair dye to do my hair and she apparently had started working there and we had that whole awkward “i’m gonna pretend I have no idea who the frick you are” thing going on on my side and the awkward flirting on her part. It was just one those moments when your like “oh please let the aliens beam me up now to save me from this monstrosity.”

6. what’s something you did ironically so many times that it just became a part of your personality?

Hmm...I dunno if this counts, but I sigh a lot. Sometimes I sigh without even realizing I’m sighing and now I’m just the one who automatically is sighing over everything. 

7. do you believe in ghosts? if yes, do you have a personal/favourite ghost story?

Hell yeah! I’m a big believer in the paranormal and I’m actually kind of sensitive to it, to say the least. 

So, I actually have a few personal experiences, but my most recent experience was a few months ago. I was out driving at night trying to get my 2-year-old brother to sleep since my mom wasn’t feeling well and since I live in a smaller town, the streets were mostly empty. I had driven downtown and was on my way driving back when I saw something dart off into the road. So I slowed down and was really paying attention since we didn’t have street lights on the road. It was a weird occurence since I was driving between two housing developments that were surrounded by high walls on either side of me so it’s not like there would be an animal that ran out into the middle of the street and it was after midnight and my town shuts down at 10. 

And then I saw someone standing in the middle of the road in all black. They had their arms spread and were waiting for me to hit them. I swerved as much as I could on the road as I slammed on the breaks, trying to avoid hitting the person and I felt the car hit something. I’ve been in a car accident before and I know what impact feels like and I swear that I hit something. 

I got the car to stop and I pulled over, because I was freaking the fuck out. My brother was asleep in the car and we were both okay, but I really thought I hit someone. Since I was by myself, I didn’t get out of the car, but I did call a friend’s dad (since my dad has epilispey and can’t drive) and he, his wife and my friend, and his brother drove the 30 seconds to where I was from their house.

There was nobody there. I didn’t hit anything. There was no damage to the car. There was no way anyone could have ran from the scene since the road was surrounded by walls that couldn’t have been climbed easily. 

None of us, have any idea of what happened.

8. when/if you talk to yourself (out loud or otherwise), do you use ‘we’, ‘I’, or ‘you’ to address yourself?

Usually it’s a combination of all three. It depends on the context. I tend to lean more towards ‘you’ or ‘I’ but I often use ‘we’ too. For isntance, when I’m psyching myself up, I tend to use ‘you’ or ‘we’ but I generally use ‘I’ when I am trying to get myself to focus. 

9. what’s your ultimate desert island book?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ uhhhhhhhh....Island of the Blue Dolphins? I dunno. 

10. what’s something you do that’ll almost always lift your mood?

Putting on You Only Live Once and dancing. Nothing lifts your mood like the most motivational song ever. Forget Eye of th Tiger or It’s My Turn Now! You Only Live Once is so freaking positive and it makes me feel like I can get through anything. Believe it or not, when I’m in a really bad depression slump, it’s a song that helps get me moving even if it doesn’t stop the episode. 

Also, watching Adam Rippon skate because lets be honest he is goals for all of us. 

Or looking at pictures of my OTPs.

11. compliment yourself!

I’m so not good at complimenting myself, but I’ll try. 

Uhm...Sam, you have a not shitty taste in music. It’s not that bad. You have a few questionable tastes, but mostly it’s pretty awesome. 

I’m not gonna tag a lot of people because I’m catching up on tags, but I will be tagging: @endlesscloudsoftime, @callmeasses and @iwritebetterthanispeak as well as whoever else wants to do this. 

My 11 Questions for you:

1. Which fictional character would be the most borning to meet in real life?

2. What problem or situation did TV / movies make you think would be common, but when you grew up you found out it wasn’t? (i’m lowkey taking a jab at hsm because thanks Disney for making me think high school would be awesome)

3. What would be on the gag reel of your life?

4. What does “infinite” mean to you? 

5. If your life was a movie, what songs would be on the soundtrack?

6. What item would be your top choice to make into a horcrux?

7. Who would play you in a movie about your life?

8. Most relatable scene from any book/movie/anime/etc.?

9. If you were shrunk down and somehow got stuck in a blender, how would you get out?

10. Would you count manga as a piece of literature? Why or why not?

11. compliment yourself. (joey, you’re just to freaking good to at making up questions).

[yougotcrit]

Justice League (2017)

Finally. This is what it’s all been leading up to. Four years after Man of Steel (2013) premiered; Nine years after Marvel got the ball rolling with Iron Man (2008), and five years after The Avengers (2012) cohesively proved that it’s possible and lucrative to pool all your heroes together into a big ensemble blockbuster. They may be late to the party, but DC is finally here. Hmm, I like that analogy. Let’s pretend that this was a pizza party, and DC stops by with cold pizza six hours after the party started. Maybe the pizza’s okay, but Marvel has been there since the party started with their own pizzas, and even brought snacks and drinks and a copy of Cards of Humanity. The gesture is appreciated, but in the end it was just a waste.

Forget that Justice League (2017) took so long to happen, because the film had three awful monstrosities preceding it. With the exception of Wonder Woman (2017), every other film in the DCEU is, mildly speaking, disappointing. So is it fair to judge a film when your expectations were already at zero? I mean, by default those expectations will be surpassed since they can’t possibly go any lower. So it’s quite possible that my thoughts on the film could be influenced and biased towards it as a result.

But despite of all these problems leading up to the movie, I actually liked it. Justice League is by no means a perfect film; it’s riddled with problems. But amidst its issues, you can tell they tried to address and correct several of the complaints fans and movie-goers had with the previous films. And who exactly do I give credit for the film’s shortcomings and achievements? Zack Snyder left the project for personal reasons shortly after filming ended, so Joss Whedon was brought in to finish post production and direct the re-shoots. Ultimately, because I know what each man is capable of as far as their creative tendencies go, I’ll have to give Whedon his due for saving the movie. It’s lighter, both figuratively and literally, it’s funny, it’s got some great action sequences and Superman even smiles. That’s right, in the first 30 seconds, the movie manages to humanize Superman far better than either Man of Steel or Batman v Superman (2016) ever did.

As much a I love the new tone of this film, as far as the universe that DC has established goes, it’s inconsistent. For so long DC’s films have been trying to differentiate themselves from Marvel, trying to be “darker”. I think they finally realized it wasn’t working and started to borrow some ideas from the Marvel movie-making playbook. And is that such a bad thing? There’s a reason Marvel’s films are so popular and successful (for the most part), but it’s not like they invented the formula or have a monopoly on it. It took awhile, but DC seems to understand that it’s okay to have a laugh here and there, and that it’s okay to be self-aware and address the craziness that is the superhero world. So long as it’s thoughtful and entertaining along the way, who cares? But at the same time they’re neglecting a lot of things that were established in BvS, like how Batman and Superman hardly knew each other by the time they realized their moms had the same name, or how half the world seemed to be protesting against Superman. But maybe it’s best that we pretend none of that happened; I’m willing to forget.

But there’s those darn issues I mentioned earlier. The plot is weak and predictable, the CGI is overused with its faceless, enemy army and action sequences, and so many characters that we’ve been highly anticipating are given the shortest and most rushed expositions since Suicide Squad (2016). It’s a shame, because I really liked Cyborg and Flash, and it would have been great if we could have had an introductory film for each before they were all thrown into the mix. Aquaman’s presence, on the other hand, is much like his presence in every other medium: a bit of a joke. Other than acting as the obligatory loner, his contribution to the team is laughable. They never really even make clear his powers, so when Batman comes to recruit him, I have to ask, what makes him so special to validate his membership?

The film doesn’t offer anything new or mind blowing, but it’s definitely a step in the right direction. The slo-mo is minimal, you can actually tell that Superman’s outfit is blue, and Wonder Woman is again the best part of the film (DC can do that much right, at least). The plot may be weak, but it’s not a convoluted mess of subplots and motivations. With this film, it actually feels like we’re part of a bigger world, an actual DCEU. And for the love of God, there’s not one, but TWO after credits scenes. Yeah, I know, and I don’t care, Marvel doesn’t own the rights to after credit scenes, and they were still awesome. The film’s theme of hope resonates very well in this film, especially since the heroes actually make an effort to avoid civilian casualties. That’s right, they’re super heroes, they’re supposed to save people! This film gets that, and even though it’s a very rudimentary principle, at least DC finally remembers why we want to see these characters.

Justice League,

You Got Crit

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[angstymarshmallow]

Star Crossed Paths - Drake x MC (A Royal Romance Fanfic)

[A little note: You know I had to write a fic after that Drake diamond scene. This is mostly chapter shenanigans and a bit of extra fluff.]

[Summary: On the night of the prince’s coronation’s ball, Riley (MC) wrestles with the idea of fate and all the adventure she’s had in Cordonia ending. Before the night can turn into dusk Drake and MC confronts their feelings for each other, defying fate or accepting fates intentions.]

Riley has never given fate much thought.

The idea that one’s life is completely set on a path, a specific path. From the beginning to end – ultimately leading to the same place, even before the beginning has ever been written.

Her mother has always taught her differently, taught her the value in where people started. Taught her that it varies from person to person and the most important part of it all is the journey; the rollercoaster of a ride up and not the ending nor its tragic fall. No, fate isn’t supposed exist.

But looking at herself in front of the mirror; Riley has come to the decision that her mother isn’t right. Frankly, she’s never been anymore wrong.

Although her story began in New York, and ultimately her journey takes her across the other side of the world; she thinks what feels as a spur of the moment decision is now the ill-timely conclusion of fate. And as she prepares to attend the coronation ball - she fears the ending.

She fears saying goodbye to it all.

All too quickly everything is beginning to change, to draw its final curtain and the stage they have played so effortlessly on will finally draw to a close. They will all take their last bow and separate. She knows this with certainty; just as simply as she understands that she cannot take a man’s hand in marriage she does not want.

She believes in the cruelty of fate as she slips inside her cherry red dress. She believes that people can’t control it as she adjusts the clasp of it and runs her fingers through the fine material. She believes she’s never been the master of her own fate – rather has spent the last decade deluding herself into thinking otherwise. As she bunches her hair into a familiar bun and paints her lips the proper colour; she believes that fate waits for no one. Listens to no one. Cares for no one.

The knock on her door jolts her from the privacy of her own thoughts. She takes one last glance at the mirror, ignoring tinges of weariness that still lingers before crossing the room briskly. She plasters on a smile. It stretches from one cheek to the other as she opens the door.

Maxwell is there. A radiant grin on his lips as he shoots her an appreciative glance. At his smile of approval, he gestures towards the direction of the hall. “All ready to go little blossom?”

Her smile wavers for a split second before she takes his outstretched arm. “Of course, I’ve been waiting.”

-

The ballroom floor is packed. That is her first thought as her eyes sweeps the room. Packed with the press, familiar looking faces and of course him. She avoids him first, knowing that if she doesn’t; the faltering smile may drop entirely.

She doesn’t have much time to greet Hana or Bertrand before the suitors are called to formally hand their gifts to Prince Liam. Hers had been a poem, something Maxwell had coerced her into following through. She hadn’t wanted to; she thinks poems can be too intimate. Too personal, and all she wants to do right now is get through the rest of this night.

Riley has gotten good at reading people; something important about her last job in New York but has been nearly imperative here. The nobility has the tendency to hide under cool masks, fake their expressions but their body languages all have different tells, and yet - all needlessly hidden through a veil of masks. They try to keep it all well together, transitioning what they can into smooth demeanours.

The prince is very good at that. She notices as she watches his expression. His smiles are all cordial and he says all the right things to make the other women happy. He’s charming, he’s always has been but she sees through it. She knows it’s all apart of the game.

When he stops in front of her; she sees the first real smile to ever touch his face all night. It makes her blink in surprise and sinks the guilt so far that she nearly drops it. The smile that has been faltering since she has entered the room.

“Lady Riley.” Her name is warm on his tongue, familiar and intimate. Too intimate.

Her cheeks flush as he takes her hand and presses a chaste kiss before straightening for her gift.

She says what is expected; her own way of charming people as she has so often done in bars now comes alive as she speaks. “Greetings Your Highness, I have a gift for you.”

He laughs and smiles – it is all so very genuine, while hers are all so fake.

He seems to enjoy the poem as she reads it, laughs good naturedly when she mentions that Maxwell assisted her in the choice of words. Just in case, she drops her gaze to the note inside his hand. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” he shifts a little, almost close enough to raise eyebrows from the other suitors. “You are amazing Riley. You always know how to make me smile.” His voice is soft, an endearment that should make her happy, but it doesn’t.

Her smile freezes in place and she ignores the heaviness inside her chest. She hates lying; it makes her feel like a fraud but it’s only for tonight. Just tonight. She tells herself as she forces a weak smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He chuckles as he steps back, “Immensely, I had no idea you were so talented.” Her eyebrows quirk up until he adds, “so many talents I mean.”

Her shoulders shrug delicately, “I guess there’s still a lot you don’t know about me.”

His smile is dazzling, nearly blinding her. “I look forward to learning everything.”

She winces at his choice of words but he doesn’t seem to notice as he turns to the rest of the party. She is already finished with it all; ready to turn in for the night as he addresses the crowd.

The first dance has already commenced and she quickly drifts away, intending to find a drink when she spots Maxwell.

And he isn’t alone. Hana has her head slightly bowed in his direction and she approaches them quickly.

She stumbles in her heels when she notices him beside them. The man she has been trying to avoid the entire night. She’s almost tempted to turn and flee in the other direction but they’ve already seen her.

Maxwell waves her over and Hana greets her with a bright smile when she’s within earshot.

“You look so beautiful Riley,” Hana mumbles, twiddling her fingers together. “The prince won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.” Her smile dissipates though, turning into a slight frown as she glances inside her glass.

Riley blanches at the thought. Her practiced smile hurts her cheeks, “Nonsense!” She chides her friend, “looking at all the other women here – they look just as radiant as I do.” She gestures to her friend, “Especially you – you must tell me who your tailor is.” Bertrand’s lessons must be rubbing off her because almost immediately Hana sinks into a discussion about high fashion.

She hasn’t looked directly at him, but she can feel Drake’s gaze on her. Feel the intensity in his stare. Just say hi. Her body is insisting her to; but her mind knows better. One look from him is surely enough in causing her to become undone. “Hello Maxwell, Drake.” She mutters when she’s had a moment of pause.

Her eyes meet his then. They are aloof and distant; what she expects in such a public place like this. Still, it hurts to meet those eyes and not see anything but a glance of mild friendliness. Is this better? Is this easier? Her eyes challenge and she notices a flicker of something before it completely disappears from his expression.

Thankfully, the prince has stalked by their small group. His eyes alight with innate warmth as he bows. “Lady Riley, Lady Hana.” He breaks into a grin at the sight of Drake. “I’ve been looking for you all night – where’ve you been?”

“Around.” Drake shrugs but Riley doubts his one word answer is impressing anyone.

“May I have this dance Lady Riley?” Desperate to retrieve herself out of this awkward situation, she gratefully grasps his outstretched palm and follows him to the dance floor.

At first, neither of them speak as another song begins. His hand on her waist feels odd, unfamiliar even though months ago all she could think about was them. It’s funny how months of getting to know someone else has changed so much of what she thinks of him.

They dance close, the Cordonian waltz isn’t known for space. It’s intimate, and she refuses to meet his eyes as they twirl gracefully across the floor.

“You’ve been practicing.”

His comment startles her. “Hmm?”

“I said you’ve been practicing.”

A slight laugh, “Ah yes, we’ve just had so many balls. It would be strange if I haven’t learned simple Cordonian customs by now.” She smiles thinly.

“Of course, you’ll have to excuse me. I forget how long the social season is.”

“No harm done, you are the prince after all. I’m sure you’ve got bigger concerns.” She began conversationally, “And to think – a few short months ago I knew nothing about waltzing or even being a proper lady.” She teases.

“And now, no one would ever know that you weren’t born into this life.”

His comment is meant to make her smile. She’s sure of that but it doesn’t. Instead, her stomach grows anxious and she laughs awkwardly. Guilt pricks at her, like a needle waiting to sting if gripped wrong. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves Prince Liam. There are other suitors that are far better at all of this than me.”

His eyes widen in surprise before quickly smoothening over. “Of course,” he draws her closer before extending his arm for her to smoothly go through it. “I just hope you’re having fun.”

“Having fun?” She repeats, brows quirking in surprise.

“Yes, I –” He pauses before his lips presses into a small frown. “I hope you never have cause to regret coming here.”

It’s as if he can finally see through the veil she’s been wearing the entire night. As he studies her expression, she tries to appear shocked by his note of concern. “Why would you think that? What makes you think I’m not having the time of my life?”

“It’s just…so much has happened in so little time, and-” He stops short to search her eyes as the song finally stops.

She hopes her smile will hold. She hopes his words won’t break it. When she tries to step back, she’s aware of his gentle hand by her waist tightening. He wants to say something – she thinks to herself, eyes widening as she glances up to stare at him.

“I need to talk to you.”

The edge of despair in his voice, startles her. It makes her stand a little taller and study him. Has she been wrong this entire time? Can she read him as quickly as she has always been able to read other people? “Is…there something wrong?”

Before he can respond, Olivia has already saddled up next to them. She places her hand on his arm, and shoves herself in the middle of them.

Riley steps back involuntarily as Oliva regards her with a sharp smile. It turns nearly sweet once she sweeps her gaze to Liam. “Prince Liam, may I be so bold as to cut in?”

Whatever sadness twists his face, veils quickly into a surprised smile. “Oh of course.”

Riley can’t help but feel unsettled by the sudden interruption. Even if she doesn’t have the same fondness for Liam, knowing he’s struggling with something compels her better nature to offer help. He’s her friend, even if he doesn’t know it – she wants to lend him comfort that the other women won’t be able to. “We’ll…talk later?” She trails off as Olivia begins to tug him in the opposing direction.

“Uh, yes!” He says simply. He gives her an apologetic smile before allowing Olivia to escort him.

Riley watches a few seconds longer before skimming the room. She has lost sight of the rest of her friends, and as she turns to leave she slams into a hard chest.

Startled, she glances up the same time that he glances down. His hands shot out to steady her. “Riley.”

“Drake,” She mumbles back. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

His eyebrows draws up short before she rambles on, “I mean I saw you here. But what I mean is,” she bites the inside of her cheek. Get it together Tinsely. “I mean here. On the floor.”

He shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal. “Liam sort of insisted.”

Ah, he wouldn’t have ever won that argument with his friend.

“I guess I should be congratulating you.”

His tone sounds off, more surly than usual. Except there’s pain behind it too. Her eyes widen, “Oh? Why’s that?” Unless she’s mistaken; there’s no winner for Liam’s hand yet.

His eyes are almost bitter as they gaze down at her. “You look exactly like one of them now.” He laughs shortly with not real mirth, “I guess you are one of them now.” His words are cutting, snide.

If his intention is to hurt her, he’s doing a fairly easy job. Her lower lip quivers before she chides herself for it. She hasn’t spent the last several months here to be broken down by a simple jab. She forces a smile, “No matter how long I’m here for Drake. I’m always going to be me. Not them.”

He keeps speaking as if he hasn’t heard her, “And this time tomorrow you’ll be queen. Queen of the whole of Cordonia. If our ancestors were looking down at us right now I can’t exactly say they’d have seen this coming. A foreign ruler.” His lips twists into a sardonic smile. “This place has a way of changing people…and some of us liked the girl you used to be.” His eyes catch hers, they soften a little. “You know that right?”

Her temper rises, threatens the surface as she grabs his hand. “Dance with me?” She takes satisfaction in seeing his sneer turn into a nearly open-mouthed stare. That’s right Drake, I don’t let people get under my skin easily. She thinks to herself as she ushers him to the floor.

Even in the midst of how tense the air is between them, she can’t help but think of how warm his grip is inside hers.

“Me?You know I don’t dance Tinsely.” He grumbles this at her but his words hold paper thin once they are on the floor.

“Then you can follow my lead,” She whispers for only his ears to hear.

His hand hesitates by her waist before she grows impatient. “Is this right?”

She’s never seen such uncertainty from him before. The way his eyes nervously watches her, before darting swiftly away. If she hadn’t still been upset at him, it’s almost endearing. Cute. Nevertheless, her face itches for a genuine smile. “It’s fine. You’re doing everything fine.” Her smile is real when she sees the faint blush on his cheeks. “Just relax, no need to get embarrassed.”

His body visibly relaxes, and she feels the flex of his muscles go slack as he inches a little closer. He spins her inside his arm, visibly growing confident the more she coaxes him. “See? I knew all you needed was a little encouragement.”

“Don’t let anyone hear you. I don’t think my reputation would survive it.”

She chuckles lightly under her breath.

“You’re…you’re actually really good at this. This dancing thing Tinsley.” His gaze is intent, boring into hers as she guides him along the floor.

He follows her movements nearly to a tea. “Is that an honest compliment out of you tonight?” She sees a corner of his mouth lift. “Please don’t stop on my account and besides this isn’t the first time I’ve danced.”

His eyes darken with something she can’t place. “I must’ve not been paying close enough attention. But I am paying attention now.”

His words steal her next breath and she nearly loses her footing by his sudden admission. “Good.” She says abruptly before thinking better of it. “I deserve more than a little credit. I haven’t been here long and yet I’ve impressed nearly everyone I’ve met.”

“Don’t push it Tinsley.” At the sound of her laughter, his lips curve a little. “I do though – it’s just taken me a little while to –”

“You should twirl me now,” She interrupts him. Her eyes drift towards the other couples on the floor, already twisting to the sound of the song’s higher octave.

“Huh?” He seems baffled by the request.

“Twirl me!” She hisses softly under her breath. She rolls his eyes at his hesitance. “Trust me - just lift your arms, and I’ll do the rest.”

He obeys at her insistence and she elegantly twirls, spinning before he draws her into his hard chest.

There is almost no distance between them as her body presses firmly against his. She’s caught inside his penetrating stare and doesn’t move. 

Immediately images from a few nights ago inside the Beaumont’s study floods back to her. His breath against her lips, his ardent kisses that sends her heart racing. She remembers it all with almost painful clarity.

And the way he’s looking down at her with fleeting desire inside his eyes, she knows he remembers it too.

“That was…” He trails off.

“Amazing.” She isn’t sure if she’s talking about the dance anymore. Neither does she think he is, as his hand drifts lower; until they are almost resting neatly on her behind, possessive as if she belongs to him.

But she doesn’t belong to him. None of her did, even though she wishes things to be different, she knows they can’t be. She steps away first, dropping her hand quickly and shoots him a shaky smile.

Bewilderment flickers inside his eyes and something else – but she’s already sweeping past him before she’s tempted to read more into it. “Thank you for the dance Drake, but I do believe I need some fresh air. Will you excuse me for a moment?” She doesn’t wait for him to respond, merely turns on her heels before making her grand exit.

Her hands are shaking. They shake so badly that she puts them behind her back before bidding him farewell.

She knows she has to stick around for awhile longer; it’s expected of her since representing the Beaumont family means their needs came before hers. But she doesn’t care, not at this very moment when her carefully crafted smile threatens to turn brittle and shatter.

Just glancing at the fancy finger food is enough to send her stomach lurching as she flits by it. She just needs fresh air and then she’ll be okay. She just needs to get away.

“Tinsley –” She hears his voice but doesn’t stop moving. Her hands have gathered the folds of her dress as she walks faster, nearly stumbling to get out of there.

She’s wrong, so very wrong to have come here. Everything’s wrong. All wrong.

Eyes follow her as she escapes; the press – the king and queen’s disapproving frown, Olivia’s smirk; Hana’s look of dismay and the prince – his is one that she won’t ever forget. It’s close to sinking her entirely, before she’s running.

She races past halls, urgently glancing at every corner for a way out. A way out of the blistering maze of a place. She spots an exit eventually, rushes towards it without thinking.

The cool air hits her cheeks, and draws a soft gasp from her. Tears prickle at the corner of her eyes, and she bends over to catch her breath. The hammering inside her chest is even louder than before as her eyes skim frantically around her. What’s she doing here? What makes her think that any of this would ever give her a happy ending?

Her smile has finally broken.

God she feels so stupid, so naïve for travelling halfway across the world for a man. A man that she doesn’t even care about – not in the same way he obviously cares for her. 

She wedges her eyes close, and pinches the bridge of her noes. “Riley-Robyn Tinsley, what the hell are you really doing here?” She sucks in a deep ragged breath before glancing down at her dress.

Some of the lower half of the fine material is all crinkled, in her quick rush to escape. She swears under her breath at the sight and barely resists the urge to scream as she buries her face inside her hands. She’s thought she’s had bad days before, but this coronation ball really takes the cake.

“Tinsley.” She hadn’t heard him come up behind her, but as she whirls around he’s there.

His eyes are careful, but the rest of him seems as if he’s struggling. His body is rigid and his hands are clenched too tightly for it not to hurt.

“What am I doing here Drake?” She asks, throwing her hands in the air. “What am I really doing with my life?”

“You’re…here for an opportunity…” He begins feebly, but she knows by the tone of his voice that even he doesn’t believe that.

“An opportunity?” She scoffs, “is that what I’m supposed to call it right? An opportunity to-to fall in love! To get the good guy, and live happily ever after.” Her voice shakes, trembles as she glances up at him.

He doesn’t flinch, but some of his blank stare wavers. “Spare me the fairytales, Tinsley. Fairytales are for children.”

“They are, aren’t they?” She drags her hands through her hair. “And I can’t believe I allowed myself to be swept by them, to think I could really control everything.”

He doesn’t speak, only waits for her to finish her tirade.

“And you know what’s the worst part of this all is? I wanted to win! I wanted to fall in love with the perfect man, and be swept by his kind words, be swept by him. But I’m not.” Her eyes soften, they blur for a moment as she looks away from him. “Because I fell for someone else.”

When she turns back to him, he’s moved to stand in front of her. He doesn’t say anything at first as she meets his gaze. “Are you done?”

She huffs out a breath.

“Good, because all that yelling isn’t going to solve anything.” He takes her arm before she can muster a witty reply and guides her further down the cemented covered path. “Especially not so close to the ball.”

“Sorry,” She says instantly. She rubs her temples tiredly. “It’s just been a long day that’s all.”

“We’ve all had those. At least once.”

They wander farther away from the castle, until it’s finally enough for Drake to release her arm. He remains silent, and scrutinizes her.

She swears she can almost see the wheels turning inside his head. “Why do you do that?” She asks suddenly, hugging herself as she tries to put distance between them.

An eyebrow lifts. “Do what?”

“Call me by my last name, you’re the only one that does.” At his shrug, she presses further. “And I don’t even know yours.” It’s almost an accusation inside her voice. 

“And you consider us to be friends.”

“Are you implying that we aren’t?”

He shrugs nonchalantly.

“So tell me.”

His lips press into a thin frown. “What is it with you and prying into my life?” He blows out an aggravated breath in which she shakes her head at. “Can’t you let a man keep a few walls up?”

She drops her hands to her side as she regards him with a small smile. “I think we’re a little bit beyond these games by now, don’t you?”

Riley doesn’t know how long they stand there, each trying to weigh the other one down with the intensity of their stares. Eventually, Drake concedes. His expression softens as he clears his throat. “If you must know, then I guess it can’t be helped. It’s….Walker.”

Her lips itches to smile. “Walker, like the whiskey?” She chuckles a little. “Well I guess that explains your fascination with drinking.You’re pretty much born to be an alcoholic.”

His scowl is nearly cutting. “I knew it was a mistake telling you.”

“Sorry I just,” she bites her bottom lip. She hadn’t meant to insult him, it’s just always been easy for her, teasing him made her laugh. Made her want to smile. Especially on a night like this, she really needs to smile. Her expression softens at his quiet blush. “Was that really so hard Mr. Walker?”

At the sound of his last name, he hisses. Then, he straightens his shoulders and the scowl is replaced by an exasperated sigh. “I don’t have many secrets left from you, and I’m not used to opening up for people, okay?” A crease so deep forms in his brow that Riley wrestles with the desire to reach up and smoothen it. “And maybe every little bit feels like a stretch.”

They lapse into silence as Riley considers his words. She’s never seen him so frustrated, or so vulnerable before. It’s not only in the way he keeps averting his gaze, it’s in his body language too - as if he’s afraid she’ll say something to shatter his confidence.  "It’s a great last name, Drake.”

He grunts in response.

She clasps her hands together, and breaks the silence. “We should probably go back inside now. People might be wondering where we went.”  Her breakdown is thankfully over, and he doesn’t have to watch her anymore. She thinks he probably hadn’t even wanted to. Before she steps past him, she can feel his hand before it touches her.

A simple touch on the back of hers and yet it stops her. Freezing her movement, stunning her more than if he’d said something. Warmth shoots up her hand, traveling to the rest of her as she glances up at him. “You’re still you.”

“Hmm?” She blinks at him.

“You’re still you.” He almost sounds as if he quite doesn’t believe it himself. “And I think even with the crown pretty much dangling in between you and nobility – you’re still you.”

She scowls at him then, twisting her hand away. Her earlier anger leaps forward and she tempers it by placing inches between them. “Weren’t you just telling me how much I was like them Drake?”

“I was being an idiot, you know that.”

She isn’t going to argue. Folding her arms, she waits for him to finish. “Look, I shouldn’t have said that.” He sighs in frustration, “I knew as soon as the words were out of my mouth they were wrong.” His brows furrow in concentration then soften. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“I suppose that’s the best apology I’m getting out of you, isn’t it?” She bites her tongue in saying more at the sight of his shoulders slightly slumping. Drake deserves a lot of things, but he doesn’t deserve the brunt of her anger. She’s mostly upset with herself.

“I was out of line, I’m sorry.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “It’s just…in that moment, when I saw you at the ball…” He looks away from her, jaws clenching. “How beautiful you looked in that dress…you just reminded me of Savannah. And on her last night here, out with the other nobles partying, she was happy too.” His tone has gone bitter and every trace of anything else is gone. His eyes look past her, as if he’s staring through her as he spoke. “She was so happy, in her fancy gown. And her hair had been all done up…She lit up an entire room.”

She knows confessing this is important. Important to him. He’s shifting closer without him even realizing it and as her temper dissipates again, she listens.

“She really believed she made it. That she was one of them, and even after all this time I still don’t know what the hell happened. What caused her to leave and never looked back.” It’s if he’s seeing her again as those eyes slide back to hers and they’re all dark and filled with emotional turmoil. His hands touch her shoulders, grips them roughly as he hurriedly speaks. “But it was bad, bad enough to break her and I’ll never forget how devastated she looked before she disappeared.”

His grip was so tight that his fingernails has bit into her skin. She forces herself not to flinch as he towers over her. “And when I looked at you tonight, I just –” His next words come out into a quick rush. “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining the same thing happening to you.”

“Drake –” She has to stop him there, has to let him know that she’s not Savannah. She’s never been one to let something destroy her, not people – and certainly not this place.

“This place seems shiny and wonderful, but the truth is it breaks people Tinsley. I don’t –” He pauses, eyes searching hers. “I don’t ever want to see you broken.”

His words should touch her, they should make her heart bloom – but all she sees inside her head is Savannah. Savannah’s desperation to fit in, to be loved by the people she’s just walked away from. How alone she must’ve felt before she finally disappeared. 

Riley can’t imagine why Drake’s sister left, but she knows that the girl isn’t her. She won’t let herself become her. “I’m not Savannah.” She whispers the words slowly at first. Then she says them clearer, more firmly for him to hear. “I’m not Savannah.”

“Believe me, I’m well aware.” His tone is dry, but his eyes sparkle with something akin to admiration. “You’re stronger than her I think. And if anyone can survive this place…it’s probably you.”

Riley doesn’t know what to say. Words seem to fail her as she glances away, a blushing poking from the side of her cheeks. Drake has given her an honest answer, without his snarky comments or witty remarks – and she’s still reeling from it all.

“Hell, Tinsley. My life would’ve been so much easier if I could’ve just hated you.” He says it earnestly and without an ounce of surliness.

Her eyes drifts back to his, and to her surprise he’s almost smiling. “Kiss me.” The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.

It’s the first time she’s seen his eyes go so wide. “What?”

Honestly, she surprised herself too, but all she can think about is his words. How much he trusted her tonight when he speaks about his sister. 

Then he’s moving, nearly tugging her until their foreheads touch. “If this is the last time I’m going to be alone with you, before you’re an engaged woman-”

She blanches at the thought.

“- I’d be a damned fool not to kiss you.”

In an instant, his lips are on hers. They’re rough and familiar. They surge an unexpected feeling of tenderness as she grips the back of his neck. His kisses taste of whiskey and passion all twisted together.

She doesn’t know how long they stand there, pressed against each other. She only knows that his lips are the only things she wants to remember from this entire night.

“I want to remember this. Right here.” He whispers against her mouth, “I don’t want to know what happens next. I just want to stay in this moment.” His lips deliberately kiss her, nipping gently at her bottom lip. “Right here.”

“Drake…” A sigh escapes her lips as he kisses her again, and this time she has no intention of letting go. Her hands feel heavy in their position, draping across his neck before he gently retrieves them and drops them to his chest.

A laugh bubbles inside her throat.

He coaxes her mouth open, hands drifting to cup her behind only to receive a fistful of giggles until she’s nearly gasping against his mouth. “You’re kind of ruining the mood here.” He grumbles lightly, before pulling back enough to see her earnest smile.

“Sorry it’s just -“ She gasps again, clasping her hand over her mouth before another chuckle can escape.

“Anytime now Tinsley.” He says mildly, brushing stray hairs from her face.

“This morning I kept thinking about how fate sort of dictates everything for us. Everyone for us.” She stares up at him, “how it brought me here. And now that everything is ending - all I can think about now is how fate fate lead me to you. To our moments in between when we don’t have pretend anymore.”

His eyes are dark, almost inscrutable. “What’re you saying Riley?”

She releases the breath she’s been holding when he first kissed her. Maybe she’s wrong. Maybe she’s only been trying to convince herself that fate isn’t pushing her to him - to finding their happiness together. But she’s sick of waiting for things to just happen. 

She doesn’t want to stay on the same path anymore, she wants to believe she can change it - that they can change it.

She braces herself for his reaction. “I’m saying let’s stop pretending. Let’s not be star-crossed anymore.”

-

[canconverter-blog1]

Do What Is Right or What Is Easy?

We face numerous choices each day. Some of them, perhaps more of them us to choose between what is right and what is easy than we realize, ask.

I’m a Harry Potter fan. I know that some people think it’s a guide and movie series to be avoided, but I’ve found many gems in both formats (don’t get me started on the brilliance of offering Harry the choice between pursuing Horcruxes or Hallows, a classic example of choosing between what is right and what is easy). At the end of the “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” movie, when it’s known by some that Voldemort has returned, Dumbledore tells Harry: “Soon, we will face the choice between what is right and what is easy.” The difference between the two is obvious: the choice between aligning with good or with evil, and facing what may and will be required as well as potential consequences of each in this fictional instance.

Some choices between right and easy that we face are just as obvious (and we readily know which we’ll choose), but not all of them. Why is that? I think Barbara Berger addresses this in her book Are You Happy Now? quite well when she states that every thought, word, and action, which, in my way of thinking as it relates to this topic, means every simple or choice that is complex has consequences. So, perhaps it isn’t as much about not knowing the difference between just what is right and what is simple, but about our thoughts or fears about possible or consequences that are probable. Some of our own confusion about this stems from what Barbara calls our uninvestigated thoughts and stories. She’s also right (and wise) in stating that every choice we face awaits our stamp of integrity; and that the intention underneath our choice is what ultimately matters. Here are some choices that lots of of us have in common.

You feel stressed so reach for something sweet to eat or drink (or maybe you’re one who reaches for something salty with crunch). I saw a social site posting that explained this well: Stressed spelled backwards is desserts. Is it right or is it easy to choose sweets (or any other substitute) to help cope with stress? The answer seems obvious, but is it? Could there ever be a time when something that is choosing help you cope at a particular stressful moment might be the right action to take? Is it a matter of how often this choice is made or if no other choice is ever made? What thoughts about yourself do you have after you make your choice? All of these are personal choices that only you can make based on your inner guidance and self-love and self-approval. Self-judgment is harmful, so what is your choice, including that which you choose about self-judgment in this matter? You can see how personal it really is in this example, and in the two that follow; but for now, what is for your highest good about your choice here?

You get a ailment that is contagious let’s say the flu. Do you go to work or school or out in public as though nothing is wrong? What will others expect of you? What do you expect of yourself? Should you allow expectations that are such influence you? Do you want to harm yourself or others more if you stay home or if you go about your business as usual? Can you afford (on one or maybe more levels) to stay house? Is it possible to manage (on one or more levels) not to? What is for your highest good about your choice here?

You’re in a relationship for you or isn’t appropriate for you that you know doesn’t work. Do you get involved with someone else at the same time, or use alcohol or drugs (even prescribed ones) to help you stay in the relationship? Have you been afraid of modification, of being alone, of being thought of as a failure at relationships (maybe again)? What is for your highest good about your choice here? I could carry on with examples, but so could you, because who knows you or your life and experiences better than you do?

Not all choices are black-and-white; there will be some with many shades of gray, demonstrated by something I heard on National Public Radio years straight back: plastic or“Paper? Hmm... Cut down trees or pollute the earth?” Granted, some people began to use cloth sacks to carry groceries, but you see what I mean about how some choices between what is right and what is easy are not exactly clear and simple, because of the consequences that are potential just what might be required of us.

So, it seems that every choice is a matter of realizing there will be consequences. There will be a matter of individual integrity. There might be a matter of fears to be faced and addressed. There may be a matter of inconvenience, small or great. There might be a matter of other people&rsquo expectations that are;s real and or imagined by you. You may also be an individual who finds it difficult to ask for assistance, so try to do everything on your own. You may forget that Source is your greatest and eternal assistant, so you are never alone and never without assistance if you are open to asking and receiving it from Source, including about making a choice.

Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Why might this be true? If you don’t know yourself, you’ll find certain choices challenging to make. You may find the choice between doing what is “right” or doing what is “easy” daunting. Yourself, how will you know which of your feelings to trust or which of your stories to not let sway your decision if you don’t know? Yourself, you’ll find it difficult to be assertive on your behalf, and will either go into passive or aggressive behaviors, or alternate between the two if you don’t know. You may cause yourself to believe you are responsible for the happiness of others, so ll that is you&rsquo at possibly great cost to both you and your life; you’ll make choices based on what will satisfy others rather than exactly what will fulfill you.

For whatever reason) to say “no” to a demanding person, how easy is that for you to do if it’s right for you (appropriate for you? This question can be applied to any choice you face between what is right and what is easy. What can happen as a result of facing this or any choice is whether it’s your spiritual self or your shadow self that stands out more at such a time (or all or most of the time) that you’ll see. Is it your power that is personal or inner wounds making the choice?

As difficult if you’re miserable a good deal of the time, most of the time, or all of the time, your wounded self is making the choices, and the choices are likely about what is easy (or more familiar) rather than what is right (which may require you to stretch and leave your comfort zone, and do something different or differently) as it may be to contemplate this, it’s possible that when you’re miserable, especially. Please don’t be discouraged as a total result of becoming conscious of this. What this means is that your inner wounds are bringing “emotional infections” to the surface so you put your attention on healing them rather than continuing to suppress them. This can be frightening; so rather than doing what’s right, we’ll do what’s easy, even if it causes us to suffer. And that is often a matter of repeating what hasn’t worked and doesn’t work, as though this right time it might. The result is usually intensification of the experience(s) we wish would stop, also to stop by our wishing it so rather than our making a choice to change ourselves.

What sometimes blocks clarity between what is right and what is easy is concern about just what others will think. What is right as I mentioned earlier, what will be in your highest good, whether for that particular moment or matter or longer-term, or both for you is a personal matter and it helps to consider. schmuck selber machen zubehör shop You could say that when it comes to what is right when it involves others, that this should be taken into consideration—and there&rsquo merit that is;s that—but it will still, ultimately, come down to that stamp of integrity and that matter of intention Barbara Berger wrote about. .

This is as you are the only one who has to live with your choices in such a deeply personal way, no matter who else is affected, though, that will give weight to your decision. Ultimately, it’s not only a matter of what you can live with, but how you’ll be able to live with yourself. Granted, there are people with psychological disorders who can live with choices those without never could, but I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about people without such disorders that skew choice-making, people whose choices often or sometimes happen to be influenced by inner wounds.

There’s no right or easy way to address the choice between doing what’s right or what is easy all of the time. It’s a moment-by-moment, choice-by-choice experience, with possibly much to consider. Not only does this present you with the opportunity to discover who you are, but to decide who you are as you move along the path of your life. Know you shall falter at times. When this happens, leave self-judgment or self-condemnation out of this while focusing on just what you can learn that will allow you to make a better choice the time that is next. Focus not on the stumble or fall but on getting back up, dusting yourself off, and continuing to learn and grow as you go.

Your choices are launched on the intention that supports your choice, and integrity, whether in their favor or not, whether you’re aware of this or not—though, now you are aware of this. You have the charged power, and the right, in each moment to decide who and how you wish to be, based on your intention and integrity. It’s a practice that is good one you’ll appreciate.

Practice makes progress.

© Joyce Shafer

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