#don't know if I'll try and expand on this

[xoxoavenger]

Give Me Your Weekends

pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

summary: But I knew you/Playing hide-and-seek and/Giving me your weekends, I/I knew you/Your heartbeat on the High Line/Once in 20 lifetimes, I/And when I felt like I was an old cardigan/Under someone's bed/You put me on and said I was your favorite

word count: 1263

cardigan masterlist main masterlist

"So, ya know how today was supposed to be our date night?" Y/N says as she gets home from work. JJ had just gotten back as well, but John B was still out. Sarah was on the couch, and for a moment Y/N thought of how weird it was that they were all living together.

"Yes." JJ starts, walking in and pausing. "Just like every other Saturday night."

"I got a call from the Kamps," She starts. She feels guilty, she does, but she couldn't pass this up and she hopes JJ agrees. "They asked me to babysit. They're paying well and we really need the money." They were trying to move out, because recently Kie and Pope had been staying over and there wasn't enough room for all six of them in the Chateau. Plus, it would be nice to have their own place, to show their parents that they were responsible despite their upbringing.

"It's fine." JJ smiles and puts his hands on her arms, effectively calming her down. "I'll come too, and we can make it a date night." She can't believe she got someone like JJ. Someone who would give up his date night, his weekend, just to be with her while she babysat.

"It's overnight." She cringes as she says it, but JJ just smiles and pulls her in.

"We can play house." She smiles as her face heats, her heart being overloaded with feelings.

"I love you." She tells him, arms around his neck as his rest low on her hips. She leans in for a kiss, and of course he accepts.

~

When they make it to the house, JJ realizes this is not in Figure Eight, like he once thought. This family lives on the cut.

"Oh my gosh, thank you so much!" Mrs. Kamp is saying, her hair a mess. She's disheveled, and JJ has a feeling he knows what she's gonna say before she says it. "I'm so sorry for the late notice, but our usual babysitter was busy and Mike's mother is in the hospital on the mainland."

"It's no problem, really. I hope your mother-in-law is alright." Y/N says with a smile. Mr. Kamp comes out with a bag over his shoulder. They thank the young couple one more time before heading out, leaving Y/N and JJ with the kids.

The kids who are much younger than Y/N thought.

Of course, Mrs. Kamp never told Y/N how old the kids were, but she assumed that at least one of them were older than five. However, they looked around two and four, both coloring at the table. There was a note on the counter, telling Y/N that she's welcome to sleep in their bedroom and to help herself to anything in the fridge or pantry, that Mrs. Kamp will text her to let her know when they will be coming back.

"Hello," She says cheerfully once she finishes reading, the two kids looking over at her. The older one was a little boy who looked like the carbon copy of his mother. The girl looked more like a mix of both, hair braided nicely. "My name is Y/N, and this is JJ." It was then that Y/N realized that she didn't know the name of the kids.

"My name is Landon." The boy says, going back to coloring. "My sister is Jane." Jane is still looking at them with wide eyes, clutching her crayon.

"Did you guys already eat dinner?" Y/N asks, not seeing any signs of a meal in the kitchen.

"Yeah. Mom made us mac n cheese and chicken nuggets." Landon spoke very well for a kid his age.

"Cheese!" Jane yelled, smiling brightly.

"Do you mind if I color?" JJ asks, going to sit on the empty seat next to Jane. She nods and hands him the purple crayon. "I like this picture you've made." Y/N's heart swells as she watches JJ with the little girl. They don't look anything alike, but Y/N can't help but feel her feelings expand out of her chest.

"I made a pirate." Landon says as Y/N goes to sit next to him. What he made is not a pirate, but in fact a bunch of scribbles.

"It looks wonderful." She says, smiling as she looks it over. "The shading is the work of a true artist." She tells him, watching him beam and blush.

After they were done coloring, Jane looked up at JJ with big eyes and said "Hide seek?" JJ wouldn't be caught dead saying no to this girl, so he nods and helps her clean up. The couple cover their laughs when the kids are hiding terribly, behind curtains or under blankets. At one point they lose Landon for a couple minutes, long enough for them to freak out slightly until they finally find him in the shower of the bathroom. After that, they get the kids ready for bed without a hitch. They ask for their parents once, but otherwise they go to sleep with their water bottles on each bedside table.

"I brought something for us to share on the patio." She tells him, smiling as she goes to her small duffle bag and pulls out two bottles of beer.

"A woman after my very heart." JJ smiles, leaning in to kiss her as he grabs a beer.

"I've already got it." She tells him. He shrugs with a smirk, taking her hand and leading her out to the patio. It's nothing special, just a small area that looks out the marsh. There's a couch swing, which they both slowly sit on.

They sit on the swing for awhile, Y/N leaning against JJ's chest, her legs curled up. He has his arm around her, thumb caressing underneath her shirt. When her beer falls against his leg and dribbles out the remains that she hadn't drank he looks over to see her asleep, mouth slumped open and body slack. For a minute JJ wants to keep her here. She's against his chest, which means she's listening to his heartbeat, something he knows she loves. So, for another half an hour, he lightly swings, finishing his own beer and listening to Y/N's soft breathing. But then he's starting to fall asleep, so he has to wake her up with a kiss to the forehead and some low murmuring.

"I want to stay out here." She tells him, but he just moves them to sit up and stand.

"The bed will be so much more comfy." He tells her, but she's still grumbling.

"I was comfy." She frowns, but he leads her inside, making sure the beer bottles are in his bag. He gets her ready for bed, helping her change and brush her teeth sleepily before stripping and hopping in with her. She moves around so that she's laying on his chest, asleep almost immediately.

"I love you," He tells her right before he goes to sleep, sure she's already asleep. He kisses her forehead and almost jumps when she leans and kisses his chest.

"I love you more." With that JJ almost can't sleep, because his heart feels so light. "I want to get married." He tenses, heart pounding as he hears her breathing even out. He feels sick thinking about that kind of commitment; his parents were married, and look how that turned out. His father almost killed his mother before she left, and now he's the one with bruises. Oh God, what if she wants kids? He'd turn out just like his dad. He'd ruin everything.

JJ has to leave.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler

[angel-sweets666]

Running away!

guard könig x princess reader

a royal guard falls inlove with a princess

Warning age gap (reader is 18-25 König is 36)

chapter two, read chapter one here!

König walked to his post, his thoughts drifting to you as they often did. You and he had grown very close, sharing dreams about the future, discussing your lives, and speaking fondly of your families. Your conversations brought him a sense of comfort and companionship that he cherished deeply.

As he stood his post by your door, he anticipated your appearance. Right on schedule, your head peeked through the doorway, a sight that never failed to bring a smile to his face. Tonight, only König and two other guards were on duty by the princess's room, which meant you could sneak König into your quarters without much risk.

"König," you called softly, tapping his shoulder.

"Ja?" He turned to look at you, his eyes softening.

"Come into my room, will you?" you asked gently.

"Me? Princess, I can't. I'll get into trouble," he said, shaking his head, though he longed to say yes.

You grabbed his sleeve, your eyes pleading. "No, you won't… not if you don't get caught."

It was clear you were warming up to him, and his resolve began to crumble. König's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine… but only because your face is very pretty," he said with a shy smile, slipping past you into your room.

"M-me? Pretty? Oh… thank you," you stammered, blushing deeply. The compliment sent a warm rush through you, and you closed the door quietly behind him.

Inside, the room was dimly lit by a few candles, casting a soft, golden glow over the plush furnishings and elegant tapestries. König felt out of place amidst such luxury, but your presence put him at ease. He watched as you moved gracefully, your every action mesmerizing him.

You gestured for him to sit on a comfortable chair near the window, and he complied, feeling the weight of his armor press into the plush cushions. You took a seat opposite him, close enough that your knees nearly touched.

"So, tell me more about your home," you said, eager to learn more about the man who had captured your interest. Your eyes sparkled with curiosity and warmth.

König hesitated for a moment before beginning to speak, his voice low and hesitant. "Well, it's not much compared to here. It's a small village, surrounded by forests. The people there are hardworking, honest. We have festivals in the summer, and the winters are cold but beautiful."

You listened intently, hanging onto his every word. The way he described his home painted vivid pictures in your mind. "It sounds lovely. I'd like to see it someday," you said softly.

His heart swelled at your words, and he smiled, a rare and genuine expression. "I would like that, too."

The conversation flowed naturally from there, covering everything from childhood memories to favorite foods. Time seemed to slow as you shared laughs and exchanged stories. König found himself feeling lighter, the burdens of his duties momentarily forgotten.

As the night grew later, a comfortable silence settled between you. You stood up and moved to sit beside him on the chair, your proximity sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.

You leaned in closer, your faces inches apart. "Stay with me tonight," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.

König's heart raced, but he nodded. "As you wish, Princess," he said, his voice full of promise.

Of course! Here’s the edited and expanded version with the perspective changed to "you":

You stood up and grabbed his sleeve, gently but firmly ushering him toward your bathroom. "Don’t worry, I’ll clean you up!" you said with a smile, hoping to ease his confusion.

"Ah… princess… what?" König seemed bewildered, and rightly so. You had randomly decided you were going to bathe him. Little did he know, you were trying to seduce him subtly, acting in a wifely manner to win his affections and perhaps convince him to whisk you away to his cabin, where you could be safe and loved.

The bathroom was warm and inviting, lit by soft candlelight that flickered against the tiled walls. The air was filled with the soothing scent of lavender from the oils you had added to the bathwater. You made sure the water was just the right temperature, hot enough to soothe his muscles but not too hot to discomfort him.

You began to help him undress, your fingers brushing against his skin as you removed his armor and clothing. He stood there, a bit hesitant but allowing you to guide him. Once he was undressed, you guided him into the bath, watching as he sank into the water with a sigh of relief.

"What are you doing this for, princess?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and gratitude.

"Nothing… it's just… you work so hard for me. I should return the favor," you said, trying to keep your voice casual as you began to rub his shoulders. Your hands moved with practiced ease, kneading the tension from his muscles. He seemed to like this, leaning into your touch.

"Okay… maybe for a little while…" he sighed, his body relaxing under your ministrations.

"See? It's nice to relax," you said softly, continuing to massage his shoulders. You could feel the knots and tension in his muscles slowly melting away.

Carefully, you reached for a soft cloth and dipped it into the warm water. You gently began to wash him, starting with his back and working your way to his arms and chest. Your movements were slow and deliberate, each touch meant to care for him

"Princess, you don’t have to do this," he murmured, though he made no move to stop you.

"I want to," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "You deserve to be taken care of too."

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. In that instant, there was an understanding between you.

As you continued to wash him, the room filled with the quiet sound of water and the occasional soft sigh from König. You could see the tension leaving his body, replaced by a sense of calm.

When you finished, you took a towel and began to dry him off, your hands gentle and careful. He stood up, water dripping from his body, and you couldn’t help but blush at the sight. You wrapped the towel around him, patting him dry with slow, deliberate movements.

"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're welcome," you replied, feeling a warmth in your chest at his gratitude.

You moved back into the bedroom and helped him into a comfortable robe. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking more relaxed than you had ever seen him. You joined him, sitting close enough that your legs touched.

"Princess, why are you doing all this?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

"Because I care about you, König," you said, your voice earnest. "You mean a lot to me."

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of insincerity. Finding none, he smiled—a rare and beautiful sight. "You mean a lot to me too," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The room was silent for a moment, the air thick with unspoken feelings. You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Stay with me tonight," you said softly, hoping he would understand the depth of your request.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "As you wish, princess," he replied, his voice full of promise.

you slowly dried him off and helped him into pyjama pants “sleep with me.. “ you said as you slid into bed, patting the spot next to you. He blushed “really princess?” He asked softly, almost moved by the idea “yeah… I’ll wake you up early I promise!” You smiled, he rolled into bed with you and ever so slowly… wrapped his arms around you

IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE CHAP 3

[roseofhybrids]

You guys like fucked up ideas, yeah? (good cuz it's 5 in the morning and I need to exorcise this from my brain so I can sleep)

Imagine, by some twist of fate, that everyone in the circus abstracted, leaving Pomni as the only one remaining. She's managed to last for a little while alone, but given the circumstances and her general demeanor, things are not looking good.

This worries Caine, as she looks like she could abstract any minute now, and he doesn't want to lose his last human. So, our ringmaster decides he needs to pull out all stops and try something new. Humans are a social species, so he decides to start with the isolation problem.

By creating AI clones of the other five performers

Pomni's depressed because all her friends are gone, so why not make new ones! Perfect plan, five stars, nothing can possibly go wrong with this idea.

Essentially, he creates five AIs similar to his own. More advanced than Bubble, but without access to the majority of the circus' code and functions. Pretty much on the same level as Caine but without "admin privileges" so to speak. Same level of sentience.

Each is programmed to act similarly to how their human counterparts did pre-abstraction, but they are completely separate beings. Their personalities are similar (though skewed to be happier and more agreeable) with the caveat that their main directive takes priority. That being: keep Pomni happy and prevent her from abstracting at all costs.

So they act just like the human versions did, unless they reason that a trait or action would make Pomni unhappy or put her in an unsafe situation. The most obvious changes would probably be with Jax, followed by Zooble and Gangle. Caine leaves the five to look after Pomni while he gets to work on his own anti-abstraction schemes. (Mostly trying to make "bigger and better" adventures)

On one hand, you have Pomni. Stuck in digital eye strain hell, with all her friends/acquaintance reduced to writhing masses of black glitches and eyes. Then one day, Caine brings in a bunch of clones of people she knows are gone. A bunch of AIs that look and sound exactly like her lost companions, but that just don't act the same. A few are closer to the originals than others, but it's obvious these are not the people she once knew. But here they are wearing their faces and pretending to be them.

And on the other hand, you have the AIs. Their only purpose is to keep this single person happy and safe, but all she sees when she looks at them are imperfect ghosts. Still, they try everything they can to fulfill the task Caine has given them. All the while, trying to ignore the fact that they're clones made to replace the dead. They aren't the originals, they're meant to be copies of what the monsters hidden away in the cellar used to be. Their names, faces, voices, and basis of their personalities are all taken from someone else. And now they have to try to live up to Pomni's memories of them.

Psychological horror all around!

[trashlie]

ILY FP 219 (or, The One That Went to the Top of My Favorites List)

Hehehe is that an enticing enough, non-spoiler preview for you? lol I want so badly to tell everyone WHY they should be sure to FP this episode, but I don’t want to ruin it for anyone. Not that I think knowing what’s in there will ruin it, but I think the impact of going into it without knowing is just SO MUCH MORE POWERFUL. It’s BEAUTIFUL okay? That’s why you should read it - it’s beautiful! 

Idk where to begin with this one!!!! Over 24 hours later, sorting out my emotions is still difficult because I just keep wanting to climb the walls and start shrieking lmao AAAAHHHHHHHH! 

Those of us who are patrons of quimchee’s got a little teaser for this episode - the first part was SUPPOSED to post with 218, and quimchee said that 213-219 are all supposed to be parts of one much, MUCH bigger episode, so you know, if you want to read them all together, there you go! But anyway, even getting a little teaser of it last week, this episode was still full of so much new, and even what we got to see still hit just as strong. UGH. LISTEN. 

When the music hit me and I realized what it was? As we kept scrolling and Shinae furtively snuck back in? I CRIED okay lmao I CRIED. How long has it been since Nol last celebrated his birthday? When was the last time someone made him feel special on this day? Because he sure hasn’t allowed himself to. He hasn’t spent a birthday with friends - I mean, hell, this is the first time he’s even HAD friends who mean anything - and after everything they’ve gone through, everything he put them through, to see them show up just meant SO MUCH to me. I had no doubts that Dieter and Soushi would come through for Nol, but I didn’t think we’d get to see it so soon, either. I was so concerned that there’d been no time for them to talk at the party, that Soushi’s first indication that Nol was even there at all was seeing him fall into a glass table! Finding him bleeding out in the snow. 

How harrowing it must have been for them - at least Shinae has gotten to talk to him a little, has a little more insight into who he is, why he did what he did. I’m sure, in time, Dieter and Soushi will come up to speed, whether through Shinae or Nol himself, but even now, even with them NOT knowing or understanding, I think it makes it even more special that they showed up. Nol has been there when they needed him, whether they wanted it or not. He always had their backs, had a way of making them feel like they were special, like they matter. And now they all got to do the same for him, to return that favor. As readers, we know that Nol began those relationships with no real intentions, never intending those friendships to become real, but they did, both ways. There was something about Soushi’s commentary that really did me in - about how he doesn’t have bullies coming around anymore and even if he did, he’s got a buddy whose got his back ;~; How he went from wanting to take help from no one to coming around to the weirdly insistent boy. 

I love, LOVE, LOVE how all of their gifts related to the beginnings of their relationships. Again, it’s something about how it began on false pretenses, but how it became real and came to mean something to all of them that just really gets to me! I don’t know how to articulate it, the feeling of these people who desperately needed someone, being able to be that to Nol, that even though he’s tried to push them away, to run away, even though they have no explanation for his behavior, they still are there for him when he desperately needs it. I kept waffling for a long time on whether I thought Nol was intending to ghost everyone after prison, going back and forth even as he and Shinae talked in Minhyuk’s room. “Is he telling her this because he doesn’t plan to stick around?” But especially after all of these hospital scenes, I feel pretty confident that’s not his plan. Just like Soushi and Shinae never really intended to accept Nol’s friendship and thought they were fine on their own, I think Nol may be having that moment for himself.

Or, rather, I think he’s at a crossroads and is at war with himself. On the one hand, he doesn’t believe he deserves any of this. The way he talks about his birthday is so SAD; Shinae is right, people don’t talk like that! Was it a difficult pregnancy that Nessa had with Nol? Did his birth cause her harm? Is it just the circumstances he feels guilty for? Maybe he believes she’d be okay if she’d never conceived him? Maybe it’s because of his relation to the Hiraharas? He talks about people stepping on the burger - that definitely feels like it’s about the Hirahraras, taking his existence and making him feel insignificant and wrong, like he shouldn’t exist. But it’s the way he talks about the mistreatment of the cow sent to the slaughterhouse. It sounds like that’s about his mom - which could be the most he’s ever said about her. If his birthday is the burger, then the cow that became the burger would be her, right? I still have so many questions, ngl. Nol clearly has a complicated relationship with the memory of his mother - we know his childhood, before they left home, were his happiest memories, but at the same time, he can’t speak of the happy memories, or really, her at all. I don’t think the guilt is simply that he exists, and there’s more to it, whether it’s misconstrued on his behalf or just more puzzle pieces we’re missing. 

At any rate, Nol carries a heavy weight of guilt and has denied himself any joy or happiness, has never allowed himself to ENJOY things, lest they go awry. Probably like with his mom, and like with Shinae, a connection with him seems to end in danger. Of course, that’s not true - people end up in danger because of their own choices, and the choices of those around them - but again, we are talking about the way Nol views himself and the world. I think this is a big thing, too, because I’ve been thinking a lot about identity and perception lately, but I’ll try to get to that in a moment. 

For so long, Nol has been content with his self-inflicted punishment, but then he accidentally made real friends along the way. His quest to help people went off track. And for a while, he tried to fix that. He pulled away, he stopped responding, he tried to completely and cleanly cut them off, he drew the line and let them know. But here they still stand after it all, and he can’t help but appreciate that. The way my stupid heart flipped when he hugged Dieter and Soushi and told him he loved him. That feels like the most genuine expression we’ve seen on him in a long time - and for him to be so forthright with them, to even use that word at all! This is what makes me feel certain he doesn’t intend to ghost them. Why would he tell them that if he planned to leave? Why would he accept and embrace their friendship if he didn’t want it? And that’s the thing, isn’t it? His internal war is his wants vs what he thinks he deserves. It’s the fear that he brings harm to people, but that DESPERATE LONGING for that closeness. 

Throughout ILY we’ve seen so many times Nol wanted to reach out and denied himself the opportunity, for whatever reason. Countless times he’s reached out to Shinae only to close his hand into a fist and restrain himself. All that loneliness is haunting. I think it’s around the time they went to the arcade that Nol knew these relationships were real, and it was the arrival of Yui that reminded him he can’t do this, he can’t let his guard down, he can’t indulge his desires like this. To have that taste for friendship, for what it feels like to just let go, to be around people who don’t spend all their time trying to tear you apart, to be around people who CHOOSE your company, who CHOOSE to be with you? And then to retreat? He tasted something so sweet but had to give it up.

And now, after everything he’s done, they still show up for him, they still sat by and watched over him, they still came to CELEBRATE him? How can he continue to deny himself this? How can he close his fist and walk away from it? 

But, and my god I realize this is a very verbose point lmao, the point I’m getting at is, in the same way that Soushi and Shinae refused his friendship, in the same way that they thought they were better off on their own, I think Nol is at that same crossroad - is he better off alone? How bad is it, if he indulges just a little? 

I hope he thinks long and hard about what Shinae said very early in the evening, too. Whether or not he believes he puts people in danger, it’s not his call to make. Friendship is a two-way road and they, also, deserve to make their choice, to choose him despite the danger. It wasn’t Nol that put Shinae in danger. Maybe in a convoluted way you could say so - she’d never have called on Kousuke for that favor he owed her for getting Nol to the hospital the night of the masquerade - but regardless, Yui acts on her own. I realize this is not easy for Nol to see, because of what a deep-seated belief this is, but I hope it’s something he’ll consider more and more. 

There’s so much I could write about the birthday party ALONE. How wonderful it was to see them all together again after all this time, the sweet callbacks to their beginnings demonstrating how far they’ve come, how much they mean to each other. Nol is SO loved, and I hope he learns to wear that love as a much needed suit of armor. What does it matter that his family is trash, when this, his found family, makes up for it in so many ways? What does it matter that some people chose to make him feel insignificant, when he has people who choose to celebrate him, and the fact that he’s in their lives? ;~; That little happy smile and blush he wears when Shinae pointedly tells him they want to spend this night making him feel special ;~; It fucks me up lmao like lakjfkjafkjaf I’M GETTING WEEPY WRITING THIS ALL OVER AGAIN LMAO 

NOL DESERVES TO BE CELEBRATED. HE DESERVES TO FEEL SPECIAL. He came into their lives and individually made them all better. There’s an argument to be made that it was Kousuke’s financing that made Soushi’s life better, but we know that HE chooses Nol. That his companionship with Nol makes his life better. If not for Nol, where would they even be? He deserves to be celebrated because he’s brought so much good into other lives! And he deserves a return of that, too. All the good he tried to put into the world to counter the guilt he wears, all the good he denied himself and thus brought to others. GOD. I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ;~; I LOVE THEM, I LOVE THIS GANG I hope in the future we get to see more of them, now that we know how close their bond is, how much they mean to each other ;~; 

DIETER’S ORIGAMI DUCKIES AND THE LITTLE BIRTHDAY MESSAGES! THE CALLBACK TO NOL AND THEIR MORNING RUNS AND THE STILLNESS OF THE WATER AND THE DUCKIES ;~; Apologizing that these aren’t the best presents, that there’s no cake, but aren’t they? Isn’t this the best? There’s something about people spending their time and energy to create something for you that REALLY gets to me. Every time a friend hand-makes something for me, I just cry and cry lmao. Maybe origami duckies and happy birtday on a cake isn’t a lot of effort - but the point is that they TRIED. That at the last minute, they came up with something to try to return the kind of friend he’s been to them. They ARE the perfect gifts. What else could he possibly need more than to know that he is important to them and means so much? 

AND THAT WAY HE LOOKS OVER AT SHINAE, THE WAY SHE QUICKLY LOOKS AWAY, THE FLUSTERING, THE LITTLE BUTTERFLIES WE FEEL ON HER BEHALF!!!!! AUGH. 

I find it so cute and funny that Shinae was too shy to give Nol her gift at the same time, feeling that it paled in comparison to Dieter’s duckies, but personally, I think it’s right on par. Just like their messages, Shinae’s gift harkens back to the earliest days of her friendship with Nol, the orange soda she spilled on him, the fear he’s allergic to oranges lol, what she drew on his face the day following at that deli lol “You don’t suck that much” All the way back in episode 4, she told him “You’re a human first. And humans suck.” WHAT A CALLBACK!!!!!!!! Idk like, to me here gift was so on par, but also, it’s something that conveys a sense of feelings and being who she is, I don’t blame her for feeling a little shy about it.

ESPECIALLY COS MY GOD THERE’S SO MUCH SHYNESS IN THIS EPISODE MY GOD!!!!!!!! 

It’s been long established that I am here for the soft shit, the tender shit, for little stolen moments laced with intimacy, stolen little moments of calm in an otherwise turbulent storm. IT’S MY EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!! Dieter and Soushi on the spare bed in the room, while Shinae lays her head again on Nol’s bed, the both of them refusing to sleep. Shinae probably fears that he’ll disappear if she sleeps, that he’ll slip through her fingers; Nol probably worries that when he wakes this will be over, the calm, the good feelings. There’s something so TENDER about them trying to delay the inevitable, to stretch the last remining time. And, again, with Dieter and Soushi sleeping (god I hope Dieter is sleeping), everything that follows just feels again like a little stolen moment, just like every other moment they share together. 

The shift in Nol and Shinae’s relationship dynamic is practically palpable. How many times has she gotten flustered over his gaze this night? How many times has she been unable to hold that gaze?! I’m a sucker for this! There’s likely a number of reasons that have brought this reaction out of it. It reminds me a lot of episodes 117 and 118 with the nugget crushing hand holding and the shared music moment - how Shinae marveled over her hands afterward, how she had to go lmao hold Minhyuk’s hand to feel it out. That, and the little flashback snippet of Nol doing her make up at the formal seem to be the times that Shinae has been most affected by Nol, and I think in a lot of ways they resonate with the version of him she knows now. But that’s the other thing. She knows more than Dieter and Soushi do and through that, she’s aware of that significance and I think it’s absolutely affected her. They’ve been so incredibly vulnerable with each other all evening - Shinae being so uncharacteristic and saying so many heartfelt, sentimental things in effort to reach Nol, sharing her story about middle school, the reveal about Alyssa, the little things he’s let slip about his family dynamic. Shinae is already seeing him in a new light, and so much of it is just raw and she’s yet to have a moment to really sit down and take in everything. But also, the GLANCES, his INTENSE expressions. 

I was talking to someone on reddit about this but the thing is - this isn’t Shinae’s first meeting with Nol like this. In so many of their shared moments, this is the person he’s been, letting down his goofy mask, talking seriously with her. The break in at her apartment, the phone call after his family dinner, the scene at the wac, the breakdown on the hospital terrace, the time he gave her his extra taco. Though not as raw as this Nol, the edges softened and blurred more than he is now, she’s come face to face with this iteration of him. It’s the intensity that is so new. And lmao that intensity is what makes him so alike Rand, who made Shinae quiver LMAOOOOOO it’s so funny that this is finally catching up to her, that their appearance is finally frazzling her. But I think it’s a culmination of all of this. There’s an awareness at the tip of her tongue that she’s yet to voice, yet to confront, but she’s certainly acting on it. The stolen glances, the flustered glances away, the way she is so WHOLLY affected. 

It’s only just earlier this week, as far as the timeline goes, that Shiane realized HOW important Nol is to her, HOW scared she is of losing him, how much he means to her. Dieter used the l-word! It’s not a casual friendship. And his significance to her seems to dance along the border between platonic and romance - you can be significant to someone without it being romantic, you can be a person someone doesn’t want to lose without it being romantic. But SHE has to find that significance, she has to figure that out. All this shyness and flustering - is it the newness of this side of Nol, of all this vulnerability shared between them, or is it something more in the ways they bring comfort to each other, the ways they seem to stabilize each others’ world. I don’t think we’ve seen it demonstrated as strongly as we have with Nol, how Shinae’s presence and can center Nol and root him in the present, but I think we’ve seen a few instances of Nol being the same for her. 

This is one of those things about love and romance and friendship that fascinates me. At what point IS it romance? At what point does that friendship turn into “I want more of this I need more of this”? You can receive comfort from so many people, so at what point does it become something romantic?

And I think that’s what Shinae and Nol are toeing. Nol, certainly, is becoming more aware of that affect she has on him, the way she roots him to the present, the way she brings him much needed peace. Does Shinae realize yet the way she seeks him out? Does she realize how much peace she’s also gotten from him? 

And it seems so mutual, the way Nol gives in and indulges in the peace, the way he initiates these little moments of physicality. And it could absolutely be nothing, it could absolutely be just a casual touch amongst friends, except it’s them, and she’s flustered and looking away, and the butterflies seem to dance off the page. It’s the way he looks from her gift, loaded with what began their friendship what brought them into each other’s lives, and looks over at her trying to drown out his reaction, too embarrassed (TOO SHY!!!!!!) to see, that eyeless frame (QUIMCHEE DOES THIS SO MUCH! SO OFTEN! WHEN SHIELDING NOL’S FEELINGS!!!!!!) when he reaches over with his fingers in her hair.

HE DIDN’T HAVE TO DO THAT. HE COULD JUST TAP HER SHOULDER. HE COULD JUST SCOOT NEARER. BUT HE DOESN’T. IT’S HIS FINGERS IN HER HAIR, NEAR THE SCAR THAT PUT HER INTO DEFENSE MODE except she’s not, and he’s there, and she can’t look directly at him and he moves in close and it’s so INTIMATE it’s so TENDER it’s like the earbuds sharing moment except somehow even MORE because now she’s aware, NOW the fluttering is there, the stolen glances, the close proximity, the way he relaxes when he’s close to her, the way he is being so much MORE than he’s been before. 

His tapping finger and that coy, flirty, finger dancing?! The way she glances away as her finger dances towards him, on some level aware of what it means what it is a little too shy too coy, he way he hesitantly joins in and it’s something so SILLY so GOOFY such a light, light moment and GOD it’s beautifully done? You can FEEL the flirtiness of it, you can FEEL the little butterflies, the shyness and hesitation. The way Nol’s smile fades and he becomes serious before his finger hooks around hers, the way she thinks he’s playing until she, too, realizes, he’s not UGH. /UGH/ I SCREAM!!!!!!! How is it that a single finger hooked around another makes me scale the walls like this?! It’s such a small thing, but it’s so BOLD, initiating a dance even though he must be in pain! His back?! His body?! He’s not even on morphine ;~; He’s just. ENDURING IT. 

And idk, I never know what’s going through his mind. The dance she offered him that they never got to share. Something more significant than fingers dancing, something that means MORE. 

And again, that’s the thing. I think he’s so at war with himself. He’s still calling her Yoo, but he’s touching and so close and initiating that dance and he can tell himself it doesn’t mean anything, but he already knows. He already figured that out last episode. Soon he’ll be gone and he’ll be away from the people he loves, all alone again, and he’s scared to go. He still can’t bring himself to use her name, he can’t be so familiar with her - and yet is this not a more familiar way of being? I feel like part of is is that feeling of how fleeting this moment is, wanting to capture as much of it as possible, finally acting on what he wants. All those times he’s reached out only to close his fist, and this time he isn’t hesitating, this time he isn’t denying himself. This is what he wants, so he goes for it. 

Will he regret it? I hope he’s far enough beyond his point of no return that he can’t. I hope he’s acting out of clarity that if this is the case, if this is how he feels, then why shouldn’t he allow himself this. Perhaps there’s fear that when he comes back it will all be different, that this will be a fleeting dream and everyone will move on without him. It feels like the cusp of a dream and reality, where you allow yourself to indulge because soon you return to the real world, to the waking nightmare of reality and this will be all you have left to carry with you. 

It feels even more likely when he crumbles when she mentions when he returns. Perhaps it could be that he DOES intend to never come back after he releases, but idk, I guess I’m just so hopeful that’s not the case? It could be a parallel to the hug in the rain, when she asked if any of it was real and he hugged her because it wasn’t until it was and he couldn’t bear to say so. But it also feels so much like he’s afraid. The way he buries his head in her shoulder, his face hidden so she can’t see his emotions, their hands still held at their side feels so much like he’s afraid and doesn’t want to say so, wants to put on a brave face but he can’t. “When he returns” because for a time he will be away and he just had the sweetest taste of calm and when he wakes up from this dream the waking nightmare resumes, he’ll again be all alone and it’s so much harder to go back to alone when you’ve had a taste for this, when you’ve indulged. How can he go back to before, how can he face this new stage alone? 

It’s such a sad little scene, the way they’re standing together, another dance interrupted, but at the same time, there’s something sweet. Very bittersweet, I guess. Maybe it’s just because he’s too weary and hasn’t had it in him to put up the walls again, but to see him, yet again, seeking that comfort in her, allowing himself something he once would have denied himself. Allowing himself to feel his feelings and to comfort himself. 

There’s just so much that is beautiful and painful about this episode. For this to be the first time he’s felt peaceful and calm and he nearly died in order to have this moment? The knowing that he will have to leave, that he’ll have to return to feeling small and insignificant, that he has to face a new fear when he goes to prison, when this little suspended moment in time is all over. While I personally think - or hope - we’ll get to see a positive transformation from Nol while he’s locked up, thanks to the counseling he’ll be going through, it’s still hard to watch him have to leave this. I don’t want to romanticize his sentence by any means lol but I do think being away from his family, away from the people who chip away at him and tear him down, can give him so peace to confront what he hasn’t been able to. I don’t think it will be a total transformation of any kind - just the necessary first steps. Nol needs to be away from the Hiraharas, and to learn to see the worth in himself. 

I mentioned this earlier in this post, but I’ve been thinking a LOT about perception of self, and how others see us. For instance, the version of me that I intimately know, that exists to me, doesn’t necessarily exist to others. Likewise, there are people who will see me in very different ways than I see myself, and it’s not that they don’t know me well, it’s just that we all are different people to everyone we know. We’re multifaceted and shaped by our experiences, but also by our actions and how we’ve affected the people with whom we interact. 

Nol sees himself as a villain, as a monster, as someone who needs to be punished. But that’s not the version of him that Shinae knows, or Dieter or Soushi, either. To them, he’s a hero, he’s someone who does good. Shinae described him as the sun and while I think that’s partly because of his bright smile and bubbly personality as Yeonggi, I think it’s also in the way that he can make things a little better for everyone. Nol has never been able to see himself the way others see him, though, because he’s so pre-occupied with the version of himself he knows, the one that’s been so heavily influenced by the Hiraharas. That he’s a mistake, that he shouldn’t exist, that everything would be better without him. And because he can’t see those versions of himself, he can’t see that it’s not true. Shinae certainly wouldn’t be better off without him, nor would Soushi or Dieter. BECAUSE he’s in their lives, they are better off. And that’s what he needs to learn to see, to reconcile with the version of him that exists. Because sure, that’s part of him. Maybe it’s not correct, but it’s a part of his identity. But so is the version of him that exists to his friends. So is the version of him that Nana loves. And obviously, it’s not so easy to wake up to those sides, because of how overwhelming this version of him is. But I hope that time away from the people who feed into that image, with some counseling might help him start to clear that away and better see himself for who he is, all the multitudes that he is. 

Because here’s the thing - people contain a range of good and bad, that’s what makes us human. Our choices ultimately define that, but so do our circumstances. This is why I can offer empathy towards characters like Kousuke and Alyssa who have made choices that we wouldn’t consider right, but make sense for their circumstances. Nol contains so much darkness, but he also contains so much light. Maybe he’s not as radiant as Yeonggi - but maybe it’s only because he hasn’t had the chance to be. Who could he be with a break from the people who tear him apart? Who could he be away from their influence? That’s what I’m keen to see, and that’s why I think he’s not intending to leave everyone after prison - or at least not GHOST people. Maybe he does need to get physically away, go to college abroad, but that doesn’t mean he’d be abandoning his friends this time. 

Nol’s real family sucks. But this family - his found family - they can bring him the joy and happiness he deserves, even before he thinks he deserves it. Again, maybe I’m just being really hopeful, but I just feel like this is a significant, defining moment for him, hopefully the beginning of him realizing he’s allowed to indulge, he’s allowed the same comfort he’s offered to others. 

Gosh what a tangent lol I know this post would be a mess. I JUST. I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS. I have sooooooo many disorganized feelings seeing Nol like this, how sad I feel how happy I feel how much my stupid heart pitter patters over his interactions with Shinae. The callback to the dance at the formal where she was so uncomfortable (BUT NOW! NOW! SHE’S NOT!!!!!!) the teasing about her dancing, and he WILL miss her. HE’LL MISS HER! UGH /GOD/ 

But boy do I hope Dieter is fast asleep lmao ;~; I don’t think Shinae or Nol are ready to face what is unfolding, but Dieter reads them so well, he’s aware of things before they are. He knows what he is, for lack of better word “competing” against, and I think maybe he even knows it’s a losing battle. He made his move and she turned him down and I think he’s accepted her friendship with grace and delight - getting to know her better, getting to grow closer to her than he ever thought. And god, isn’t it painful to watch her and know that she seems to be drawn somewhere else, that it’s nothing you can do anything about? Because Dieter loves Nol, too. He probably understands how someone would be drawn to him at all! And while I think Dieter is a character who would handle things with grace, it would still hurt. I don’t think Shinae and Nol are a thing that, if they ever happen, would do so any time soon, and by that time I like to think Dieter would be over Shinae in that way, that they’d be close friends still, that they’d be people who root for each other and want the best for each other. But for him to have that awareness NOW, ugh the pain. He’s already taken note of the way she is with Nol vs how she is with him, the way she was so overwrought when they found out about all the secrets and lies, when they found her crying in the rain. 

I DON’T WANT HIM TO GO THROUGH THAT DAMNIT ;A; 

But we are definitely at this point where it’s a little too obvious to deny, a little too obvious to look away from. Any attempt at earning Shinae’s affection feels like you’re competing with something else. Even if she’s not ready to face it and admit it yet, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. Whether or not it’s romantic or not is for her to decide, but for us as readers, we know that it’s something significant, that they have a mutual effect on each other that’s undeniable. There is so much trust shared between them now - despite it all, she trusts him, and he knows now that he can trust and rely on her, too. And as an outsider, it’s just obvious that something is there, however that something is defined. It’s not a stretch to say that Nol takes a priority, that she will at this point push things aside for him. 

Even romance aside, I think this is a dynamic we’ll be seeing a lot of going forward, because Nol still is not fast to open up to people and to rely on them. Trusting Shinae like this, letting her in to this more vulnerable side, I think defines a lot of their relationship to come as they evolve. Maybe Nol will leave and go abroad and maybe Shinae will date other people in that time, but I think we’ll see that Nol maintains a special place in her heart, that will be difficult for a lot of people to compare to. How do you compare to someone who has these experiences with her, who has developed a bond through these trials and tribulations lol? 

GOD. 

I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS I JUST. WANNA!!!!!!!! SCREAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

[bahrmp3]

.

[masquenoire]

Misery flourished in Gotham. It always had for as long as people could remember but few could recall a time of such hardship since the destruction of the city’s seawalls just a few months ago. Many had lost homes and businesses as a result of the floods, entire communities uprooted from places they’d lived in for generations. Now those streets were hollow shells of what they’d once been, rows of derelict buildings waiting to be condemned once structural repairs had been completed. A few pleas could be heard in a nearby alley, accompanied by the sound of angry gunshots then silence. Not everybody had left, some too attached to their homes to move on or having nowhere else to go. Others had arrived willingly to make a place for themselves amongst the decaying bones of the city, preying upon the weakest and most desperate in society. Tonight was a different story though, the homeless huddled away with their drugs and anything else that could soothe their troubles for one more evening while rival factions took advantage of the situation, competing for resources while the public eye focused elsewhere. “Over here. We want to make sure they see we’re leaving them a message.” A group of masked men emerged from the alleyway, faces identical as they carried the still body of yet another person between them. The one who’d spoken looked on in silence as they left the corpse in plain view, looking like any vagrant who’d overdosed were it not for the quality suit he was wearing that was now bloodied and full of holes.

The message was simple; this area was occupied and Penguin’s men would not be tolerated. The one who’d spoken earlier nodded in satisfaction, signalling for his men to retreat back into the shadows. With Falcone dead and his most prominent supporters equally dead or imprisoned, there was no better time than now to move up the food chain and claim what was rightfully his. Gotham was ripe for the picking, the attention of the police and other law enforcement agencies focused on cleaning up the city after the Riddler’s rampage which meant fresh opportunity for those left behind in the wake of his watery wrath. Black Mask was one such man, determined to capitalize on the situation and cut off the steady flow of contraband intended for Gotham East-Side. There was only one problem with his plan... that fat little bastard known as Oswald Cobblepot. If Penguin really thought he’d be able to rise up as the city’s new kingpin now that his boss was dead and gone, he had another thing coming. Penguin was no Falcone, and Roman Sionis wasn’t content to sit idly by and let him do as he pleased without a fight. There was no better time than now to kick the stool out from beneath his pudgy little feet before he could cement his foul grip around Gotham.

@chauvesourisnoire​

[valkyrietookmoved]

I FORGOT I HAD A CON THIS WEEKEND

[becca-e-barnes]

Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹

My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵

I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵‍💫 (Part 1 here)

I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.

He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.

He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.

He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.

"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."

His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.

"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.

He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.

"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.

"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.

"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.

"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."

His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.

"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."

With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.

"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.

[play-now-my-lord]

hi, i'm trans internet weirdo frog k, the writer, and i need help pretty fucking bad. during a long period of inertia on social media which didn't really involve much more than sitting in a chair and staring off into space most days, i had a horrible wakeup call when, after a series of falls and other minor injuries from my legs being too numb to maintain my gait, investigation turned up a cluster of severe b-vitamin deficiencies. i have been broke for a very long time, and stringing stuff along like i have been has been killing me. it's not like you get most of your calories from ramen, oil, and tvp without knowing it's gonna catch up to you, but i didn't really anticipate the way that catching up looked would be a gradual and expanding numbness and low-level and escalating dementia.

at this point i'm just trying to get my shit together physically to the point that vocational rehab is even reasonable. i've made decent progress with vitamin supplements and shit, but i don't have my head above water enough at present to justify getting three square meals a day, and that's going to cause problems whatever pills i take about it.

i'm currently hoping to raise $600, but literally anything would help, and even if you can't give anything, please reblog and all that. i'm sincerely hoping once i'm able to get all this shit sorted, i'll be able to go back to being a person. cashapp - $asimplefrog ko-fi (for paypal users) - frogk thank you all so so much!!!

[submalevolentgrace]

Hi! I'm very interested in attempting to write a disabled character (not for this blog, I assure, for an book I'm writing) in which the story doesn't fetishize/objectify her prosthetic limb. I'm in many writing circles and have been for a long while, but I've never seen this issue brought to light which I realise is a very important one. I have much to change in my thought process, and thank you for bringing this issue to attention.

I'm curious, and I apologise if this has been asked before, but what sort of design could you see for a functional prosthetic that doesn't go for a plainly aesthetic appearance, or is soully to please others? I do note that you said prosthetics are generally... not that helpful. So is there a way that it could be? Or do you think it would always generally be better to not use a prosthetic, as its mostly for aesthetic purposes, as you said?

I apologise if this ask is too outright or anything, and I don't mean to intrude. Thank you for your time and have a beautiful day!

okay, i want to answer this as in depth as possible, because whenever i talk about having a prosthesis, someone will always tag some variation of "#writing reference" and i do wonder what message they're taking away, and i want to get as much of my experience out as possible to maybe help shape how this is all portrayed in the future. and yeah… this is gonna be one of those rambly smg posts that the expand feature was invented for, so i'll start with the very abridged TL;DR:

if you're writing a character with an upper limb prosthesis; don't. arm amputees are unicorn level rare even compared to leg amputees, and i've never interacted with or even heard of an upper limb amputee that regularly uses a prosthesis, let alone relies on one. fiction has lied to you for the sake of cool aesthetics, don't repeat the cycle. more in depth writing advice including nuance and "but i waaaant to" will follow.

that said, grab your donning parachute and let's get started...

context for everyone involved: i am an upper limb amputee that rants a lot about how prostheses suck, i lost my right hand roughly five years ago at roughly the age of 30 after a very rough decline in health… it was pretty rough. this question is being asked in the context of a previous rant post of mine, and i checked that the ask is about an upper limb prosthesis in particular.

the situation regarding the usefulness of lower limb prostheses is totally different; i am definitely no expert, but by all accounts, prosthetic legs are incredibly useful for many people. getting a good leg can be absolutely life changing and more or less necessary for day to day life for some; mostly because infrastructure and society is just so fucking hostile to wheelchair users. being able to walk - at the cost of pressure sores and rashes and increased residual limb pain - is a preferable option to many people than being unable to fit through a doorway or in a bathroom stall or find out that the key to unlock the only elevator is in the admin office up three flights of stairs (true story).

but upper limb prostheses… see, the thing is, hands are incredibly complex organs that rely on a lot of immediate haptic feedback to work at all. hand dexterity is all about control, you need fine granular movements of the digits yes, but you also need the subtle sensations of pressure and proprioception in order to adjust your movements on the fly. i speak from experience, in the years leading up to the full loss of my hand, i was slowly losing function of it, usually swinging between numbness that made it clumsy at best, or screaming overstimulation from moving it at all resulting in unpredictable spasms… and let me tell you, a half working hand is infuriating to try and deal with. you can never know if you have a good grip on something or if it's slipping because of the wrong amount of pressure, and there's only so many smashed bottles of pickles on the floor before you give up using it all together… so amputation wasn't a great loss there, i had time to adapt.

a prosthetic hand of any kind has all of those issues and more. they're heavy and bulky, the cosmetic faux fingers or gripping claw have crude movement at best, and there's zero feedback (put a pin in this). 100% of the time you're using a prosthetic hand you have to keep your eyes on the grip and visually guesstimate whether or not the thing you're carrying is held tight enough but not too tight, that is if your "heavy duty" prosthesis can even support the weight without the servos disengaging or the wrist attachment socket just busting loose. i dropped a whippersnipper on my foot last week when my socket couldn't take the weight and i think that was the final straw in me desperately trying to prove to myself that there is a single task my prosthesis actually helps with.

this is usually where fully two handed people start talking about bleeding edge DARPA tech, and how we just need to invest more,research more, develop more. better tech, more tech, neural integration, more more more. okay i promise the writing advice is coming! for starters on tech, my experience is already with a mid-to-high end ottobock terminal device: i've got a myoelectric nerve-signal operated proportional control heavy duty greifer; about the only upgrade left for me to get would be a rotating wrist joint if i could coflex. it's not military, it's not "rockclimber that owns a prosthetic company", but it's quality tech. it still fucking sucks. secondly, that high level military tech exists primary for PR purposes so they can say they treat their discarded casualties well, "we can rebuild him, we have the technology" style. every war vet i've read about or heard from that's been gifted that high level tech also abandons it for the same reasons; it's imprecise, there's no feedback (or the haptic interface has to be fully recalibrated every time they put it on), but mostly they're more capable without one.

okay, the transhumanist ableds say (i should know, i used to be one), what if we did more ~research and development~ and got that neural feedback working? then we could have fireproof superhumanly strong robot arms to fix up everyone! here's where i take out that pin we put up before and i tell you that a class of prosthetic arms/hands already exists that has perfect proportional control, fine motor control, and physics perfect pressure feedback piped directly into the patients' existing sensory systems! they're called body-powered prostheses, and they were invented in like the 1600s. you strap a whole bunch of stuff to your arm and shoulders shoulders, and control the operation of the terminal device and elbow through cable tension by flexing your shoulders. they do take a considerable amount of training to operate - though hell i spent 18 months training to use my myo - but based on everything i've read, body-powered prostheses are the best option if you're an upper limb amputee and absolutely need a second hand for some reason.

but they don't look cool and futuristic, and according to my prosthetist, most people give up on using them too. we all give up on our prostheses, no matter the type. my rehab OT was impressed i lasted the 18 months of my training. towards the end, they even asked if the clinic director could drop in to one of my sessions to see my progress; he expressed genuine amazement at me casually using my bulky robot claw to use a brush and dustpan, and made an offhanded (hah) comment about what someone can achieve "if they stick it out to the end", implying it was somewhat of a rarity for me to have done so. several years on, and yesterday i wedged the dustpan between my ankles to sweep up into it, awkward but exponentially less effort than putting my dusty robot arm on. which, by the way, is a whole thing. look up some videos, they're all awful to don. i don't actually know the official technical name of what my clinic calls a "parachute" but it's a bitch to use! have you ever tried to pull back with your arm whilst also pushing it forwards at the same time, and simultaneously lean in to and away from an external force pulling on you? that's how you get a myo socket on.

bare with me, i promise writing advice is coming, and i promise it's more than the tl;dr. but. remember when i said a half working hand is infuriating to deal with? any prosthesis, from fancy myo tech to pirate-era body powered, will only ever be half as good as a working hand, and being juuuust within capability to do something but not quite able to is maddening! but you know what works way better than a half working hand? no hand at all. using whatever residual/vestigial limb you have - whatever "stump" you have, i hate that word - is pretty much always better than trying to use a prosthesis. i can use the inside of my elbow to grip and carry things, i can use the nub of my arm to apply pressure to hold things, open doors, use a computer mouse, turn on taps and lights, if i put a glove over it i can use it to prep for cooking. i have full proprioception and pressure feedback with skin contact, i don't think i've ever dropped and broken anything from my elbow, unlike countless things slipped from my greifer - which, by the way, absolutely will start clenching as tight as it can if i get even slightly too sweaty around the electrodes, which has both broken things i'm holding and also injured me, because surprise surprise but servo operated robot claws have pinch points on them right near the "emergency disengage" lever for some reason!

but i am exponentially more capable without it on than with it. no, i'm not fully independent, i rely on housemates and loved ones to help me out with some tasks that simply just need two handed dexterity, but none of those tasks are things a prosthesis makes me able to do anyway. i used to imagine my prosthesis would be like a bra; a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but i'd wear it throughout the day because it's helpful and take it off in the evening to decompress. in reality it's actually exactly like a bra: an absolute bitch to put on one handed, unbearably uncomfortable because it never sits right, ugly af unless you're a millionaire, and absolutely useless except for the fact that i get gawked at and judged by strangers if i leave the house without it on.

and if you really want to discover how far "no hand is better than a half working hand" goes, brace yourself, and look up the patient's stories (not medical system stories) of people that have had hand transplants. the first man to receive one hated it, he was promised a return to normal function, and what he got was a nightmare worse than being one handed; he wanted it removed again but the doctors refused because it would undermine their grand achievement of the first hand transplant. the doctors and society wanted him to be fixed, they wanted him to be normal, they wanted him to be abled. they failed. they made him less able to do things, denied his autonomy, and left him with someone else's hand slowly rotting on him, prioritising the idea of "scientific progress" and "two hands good" over the physical health, mental health, and ability to function of this man.

he's not alone; every story from the patients' perspective about hand transplants that i've read goes this way, including a woman who was born quad limb different and was promised hands would improve her life, pressured into a double hand transplant, only to find herself after the surgery essentially experiencing disability for the first time ever, because she had lived her whole life getting by just fine with her 'underdeveloped' limbs, but half working hands are worse than useless. you can try to find these stories yourself, but i'm not going looking for sources on any of these cases, because if you look back through enough of my posts you'll get a glimpse of the horrors and abuses that i too was put through by doctors who prioritised trying to "fix" me at any cost, rather than providing me the best quality of life, and in turn traumatised me and left me more broken than any loss of limb on its own could. dear goddess, i promise the writing advice is coming.

so. why do upper limb prostheses exist at all? if they're so terrible and useless, what is their function? i want to borrow something someone else left in the tags of a previous rant here, from someone who i believe works in prosthetics and/or rehab, cleaned up and anonymised at their request:

"upper limb functions are wildly more complex than: 1) bear weight static, and 2) bear weight moving. but every single upper limb amputee i know has a fancy expensive prosthetic just gathering dust in the closet because there is literally nothing it can do like a few years of adjustment and if needed non-dominant hand retraining can't do. the existence of forquarter prosthetics to begin with is just kind of silly and useless and entirely to make OTHER people feel comfortable, especially considering they universally are UNcomfortable for the amputee. i hate the notion that as soon as you get the amputation the prosthetic is The Thing That Will Fix You And Make You Feel Normal again because it universally isn't! but every forequarter person i know had like this ideal of Being Fixed By Magic Prosthetic that they were then obviously wildly disappointed by and had to do yet another grieving process with, versus if the dominant narrative were just one of: yeah. it'll take time, there is no magic fix."

and i think that really nails down what the actual purpose of upper limb prostheses is: they're not for the user, they're for the sake of other people. and not just their comfort when looking at our bodies, although based on the pressure for both amputees and people born limb different to get functionless cosmetic plastic hands, there is a lot of that. but it's not just that.

i fully believe that the reason prosthetic hands exists is to comfort the fears of the two handed. "don't worry", they say, "we can fix you again. you don't have to fear becoming Disabled, you don't have to worry about adapting or your life changing. we can make you Normal™ again."

you would not believe the number of people that have approached me to shower me with pity, to tell me how horrific my life is, how they can't imagine it. people have told me, apropos of nothing, that they'd kill themselves if they lost a hand. indirectly, that my life isn't worth living. unless, of course, i happen to be wearing my cool as fuck looking robot prosthesis! then they tell me how wonderful it is, how lucky i am, how glad they are that we have the technology to fix me. that's what a prosthetic hand says, what all the happy fishing photos on limbs4life posters at the rehab clinic say: don't worry, we can fix you. that's what the bleeding edge DARPA flexi-whatever fully articulated neuro-feedback hands say: don't worry if you get IED'd while hunting civilians for us to drone bomb, if you get hurt, we will fix you, we will fix the fuck out of you, we will motherfucking adam jensen you into a cool as fuck cyborg that your son will idolise; come on boys, don't you wanna enlist just for the chance at being as cool as this? join the bomb squad for a ticket to the upgrade lottery.

and so we arrive at fiction. as much as his dialogue options protest, adam jensen loves his robot arms, they punch through walls, turn into fucking swords! they make him the most special man in the world. what would he do without them? learn to cope? grieve? practice acceptance? take up poetry? just, be disabled? there's no power fantasy for ableds in that.

in fact, can you think of a single fictional character that's an upper limb amputee that's, well, just an amputee? they all have robot arms. not realistic prostheses, not medical devices; robot arms. sleek or bulky, top of the line or broken down self built, steampunk or nanomachines or magitech automail; they're never without them. never just an amputee. never born limb different either! there's always that element of tragedy to overcome, always suffering and misery porn, always focus on the pain and the helplessness without the absolutely vital robot arm that makes them Normal and Whole. the closest amputee example i can think of is furiosa from mad max, who iirc fucking punches max in the face with her residual limb like a motherfucking badass! i can barely lean on mine wrong and she punches a guy! but she still apparently needs a dieselpunk robot hand to drive a truck, something you can do one handed so easily most drivers don't even notice they're doing it! please don't, by the way

and so many disabled fans love to point to robot armed characters as disability representation; the winter soldier, luke skywalker, edward elric, misty knight, that genderswapped furry girl from ratchet and clank, jet cowboybebop, finn the human, and yes, adam jensen…. these are all characters that someone disabled i know has told me they love because they "represent disabled bodies"…. and i know nobody wants to hear this, because i've been screamed at for saying it before, but… they do not. they are not disabled, functionally or within fiction. they are either perfectly able bodied Normal people with chrome paint on an arm, or tortured misery porn we are supposed to pity and feel lucky we're not them. sometimes both!

also you ever notice how it's basically always arms? lower limb amputations are orders of magnitude more common than upper, my prosthetist said i was probably only the 4th or 5th upper limb she'd worked with in her career, with literally hundreds of lower limb fits. but fiction doesn't seem to reflect that, huh? or any other part of the reality of disability. it's always cool as fuck robot arms, never cool as fuck wheelchairs or crutches or dialysis machines or colostomy bags. a fair few "i was blind but now i can see with Robot Eyes and also infrared and xray" around, which again, plays into that "we can fix you and make you cooler" propaganda.

by the way, up above when i was describing body powered arms, if you wondered to yourself why i went with a myoelectric one instead when i clearly believe body powered is better… yeah. i am not immune to propaganda! i too wanted to be cool as fuck. i spent years with deteriorating function in my hand for reasons that are still unknown, was misdiagnosed and medically neglected to the point that removing my hand seemed to be the only option left to offer some relief, and even that was a clusterfuck that left me worse than ever… of course i wanted to believe in the power and prestige of a cool robot arm that fiction promised me.

but fiction promises fantastical lies. and so.

we get to the writing advice portion of the novella that is this post. you asked for advice on how to write a disabled character with an upper limb prosthesis. you've read the tl;dr, you've read everything above i assume, you know i don't want you to do it. the obvious twist is that it's been writing advice all along, me trying to share my perspective on what it's like being an amp with a robot arm and how shitty it is, implying how almost any fully realised and realistic character that's missing an upper limb would give up on a prosthesis at all. you can already tell that every value judgement in me says "don't give her a prosthesis, no matter how functional or cool you make it. don't try to make the tech better to justify it, just let her be one armed, one handed. just let her be disabled, but not helpless. let her show off her elbow or underarm carry strength. let her love interest appreciate how soft and squishy her residual limb is in a moment of tenderness. let her natural disabled body be respected and valued."

but that's a personal value judgement from me, and you are the author of your own work. i know it's trite to say, but you are! even the act of deferring to someone with lived experience in the hope of doing a better job at representation is a value judgement, a good choice in my opinion, but one you needn't necessarily take. maybe you do want to write a character that has a cool as fuck unrealistic robot arm as a power fantasy, or a comfort blanket… i did.

i've been slowly writing my own probably terrible scifi epic for over a decade now, and when my arm was giving me hell back then, i'd take great comfort in this fantasy of my protagonist with her chunky robot arm, the terrible traumatic suffering of her loss, overcoming, the power and ability her advanced prosthesis gives her over others, that she alone has access to, because others are not willing to make the sacrifices required. inspiration porn. awful stuff to me now, but empowering to me then. as i grew and gained direct experience, i slowly reimagined her, rewrote her, ship of theseus'd her into an entirely new character; a reflection of me now, bitter at the whole thing, spiteful that her natural flesh arm evokes fear and distrust, but unwilling to suffer the pain and frustration of her unnatural prosthesis just to make others comfortable and respect her as "whole", however artificial that whole is. and as with the ship of theseus being two ships, once i realised the transformation, i re-added the old protagonist back in whole cloth as a separate character; proud of her robot arm and its power, but in new context, as a foil and antagonist, an in-universe military prosthesis propaganda figure to reflect how i now feel characters like her exist to us, the readers.

i'm not just sharing that as egotistical self promotion, but to highlight that, even if i sit here begging you all up and down not to write characters with robot arms for how bad and unrealistic they are; there's still something genuine and true that their inclusion can say. the great thing about the story that you're writing is that only you can write it, as they say. but i whole heartedly believe that to write to your best, you have to be aware of what you're writing and why. as tempting as it is to feel these characters form naturally in us and therefore we're averse to changing traits about them that feel organic and self evident; as authors we have omnipotent control over the text, every trait and detail is a reflection on us, so we'd sure as hell better understand why we're choosing to write a character with this trait. because anything you write without being aware of intent will take on its own meaning in the space between.

and on that note, if i don't say this, i'm leaving it to be inferred: i definitely don't want to appear to come down on the side of saying "you cannot write an amputee unless you are one", because we are rarer than single young bisexual unicorns! and it would be a tragedy if anyone read through all this and then turned away in fear, deciding to never write an amputee character (with or without robot arm) because they feel they can't do it justice… believe me, no matter what anyone says, some hack writer somewhere is going to keep writing adam jensens and winter soldiers. don't let them be the only voices in fiction! just try to do your best.

so my ultimate advice on the topic of writing a character with a prosthetic limb is to ask yourself one question in two different frameworks, and meditate on what you feel the answer is:

why does she have a prosthesis?

from a doylelist perspective as the kids say, as an author with omnipotent control, why are you choosing to write about this topic? why are you choosing to give this trait to this character? what does it say about how you view ability and disability, what makes a person normal, and what our society values? will you let her be in her natural body? or will you give her a prosthesis, force her to wear it by authorial fiat, or author her a meaningful reason to choose to? if yes, be sure you know; why did you give her a prosthesis?

and from a wastonian perspective, diegetically, inside the story, why does she choose to wear a prosthesis? what does it say about her inner character, and how she interacts with the world? how does she feel about doing it, is she prideful and loves the attention she gets, or does she resent whatever necessitates its use? how do people in this world view ability and disability, what does this society value? and above all, whatever the answer to these questions, whether or not she uses a prosthesis or is badass without one, how does she deal with the eternal freezing cold that every amputee ever feels constantly in their residual limb and why does nobody make a heat pack that fits over a nub without drafty gaps???

i can't outright tell you how to write a good upper limb amputee, but if you at least know why you're writing one and for what purpose, you're on track to write the best character that you can. that's the best advice i can give… other than, like, this whole rambly mess.

and, as a reward for reading this far, please have a very blurry cryptid photo of my cat doing his old man sit:

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How plausible sentence generators are changing the bullshit wars

This Friday (September 8) at 10hPT/17hUK, I'm livestreaming "How To Dismantle the Internet" with Intelligence Squared.

On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

In my latest Locus Magazine column, "Plausible Sentence Generators," I describe how I unwittingly came to use – and even be impressed by – an AI chatbot – and what this means for a specialized, highly salient form of writing, namely, "bullshit":

https://locusmag.com/2023/09/commentary-by-cory-doctorow-plausible-sentence-generators/

Here's what happened: I got stranded at JFK due to heavy weather and an air-traffic control tower fire that locked down every westbound flight on the east coast. The American Airlines agent told me to try going standby the next morning, and advised that if I booked a hotel and saved my taxi receipts, I would get reimbursed when I got home to LA.

But when I got home, the airline's reps told me they would absolutely not reimburse me, that this was their policy, and they didn't care that their representative had promised they'd make me whole. This was so frustrating that I decided to take the airline to small claims court: I'm no lawyer, but I know that a contract takes place when an offer is made and accepted, and so I had a contract, and AA was violating it, and stiffing me for over $400.

The problem was that I didn't know anything about filing a small claim. I've been ripped off by lots of large American businesses, but none had pissed me off enough to sue – until American broke its contract with me.

So I googled it. I found a website that gave step-by-step instructions, starting with sending a "final demand" letter to the airline's business office. They offered to help me write the letter, and so I clicked and I typed and I wrote a pretty stern legal letter.

Now, I'm not a lawyer, but I have worked for a campaigning law-firm for over 20 years, and I've spent the same amount of time writing about the sins of the rich and powerful. I've seen a lot of threats, both those received by our clients and sent to me.

I've been threatened by everyone from Gwyneth Paltrow to Ralph Lauren to the Sacklers. I've been threatened by lawyers representing the billionaire who owned NSOG roup, the notoroious cyber arms-dealer. I even got a series of vicious, baseless threats from lawyers representing LAX's private terminal.

So I know a thing or two about writing a legal threat! I gave it a good effort and then submitted the form, and got a message asking me to wait for a minute or two. A couple minutes later, the form returned a new version of my letter, expanded and augmented. Now, my letter was a little scary – but this version was bowel-looseningly terrifying.

I had unwittingly used a chatbot. The website had fed my letter to a Large Language Model, likely ChatGPT, with a prompt like, "Make this into an aggressive, bullying legal threat." The chatbot obliged.

I don't think much of LLMs. After you get past the initial party trick of getting something like, "instructions for removing a grilled-cheese sandwich from a VCR in the style of the King James Bible," the novelty wears thin:

https://www.emergentmind.com/posts/write-a-biblical-verse-in-the-style-of-the-king-james

Yes, science fiction magazines are inundated with LLM-written short stories, but the problem there isn't merely the overwhelming quantity of machine-generated stories – it's also that they suck. They're bad stories:

https://www.npr.org/2023/02/24/1159286436/ai-chatbot-chatgpt-magazine-clarkesworld-artificial-intelligence

LLMs generate naturalistic prose. This is an impressive technical feat, and the details are genuinely fascinating. This series by Ben Levinstein is a must-read peek under the hood:

https://benlevinstein.substack.com/p/how-to-think-about-large-language

But "naturalistic prose" isn't necessarily good prose. A lot of naturalistic language is awful. In particular, legal documents are fucking terrible. Lawyers affect a stilted, stylized language that is both officious and obfuscated.

The LLM I accidentally used to rewrite my legal threat transmuted my own prose into something that reads like it was written by a $600/hour paralegal working for a $1500/hour partner at a white-show law-firm. As such, it sends a signal: "The person who commissioned this letter is so angry at you that they are willing to spend $600 to get you to cough up the $400 you owe them. Moreover, they are so well-resourced that they can afford to pursue this claim beyond any rational economic basis."

Let's be clear here: these kinds of lawyer letters aren't good writing; they're a highly specific form of bad writing. The point of this letter isn't to parse the text, it's to send a signal. If the letter was well-written, it wouldn't send the right signal. For the letter to work, it has to read like it was written by someone whose prose-sense was irreparably damaged by a legal education.

Here's the thing: the fact that an LLM can manufacture this once-expensive signal for free means that the signal's meaning will shortly change, forever. Once companies realize that this kind of letter can be generated on demand, it will cease to mean, "You are dealing with a furious, vindictive rich person." It will come to mean, "You are dealing with someone who knows how to type 'generate legal threat' into a search box."

Legal threat letters are in a class of language formally called "bullshit":

https://press.princeton.edu/books/hardcover/9780691122946/on-bullshit

LLMs may not be good at generating science fiction short stories, but they're excellent at generating bullshit. For example, a university prof friend of mine admits that they and all their colleagues are now writing grad student recommendation letters by feeding a few bullet points to an LLM, which inflates them with bullshit, adding puffery to swell those bullet points into lengthy paragraphs.

Naturally, the next stage is that profs on the receiving end of these recommendation letters will ask another LLM to summarize them by reducing them to a few bullet points. This is next-level bullshit: a few easily-grasped points are turned into a florid sheet of nonsense, which is then reconverted into a few bullet-points again, though these may only be tangentially related to the original.

What comes next? The reference letter becomes a useless signal. It goes from being a thing that a prof has to really believe in you to produce, whose mere existence is thus significant, to a thing that can be produced with the click of a button, and then it signifies nothing.

We've been through this before. It used to be that sending a letter to your legislative representative meant a lot. Then, automated internet forms produced by activists like me made it far easier to send those letters and lawmakers stopped taking them so seriously. So we created automatic dialers to let you phone your lawmakers, this being another once-powerful signal. Lowering the cost of making the phone call inevitably made the phone call mean less.

Today, we are in a war over signals. The actors and writers who've trudged through the heat-dome up and down the sidewalks in front of the studios in my neighborhood are sending a very powerful signal. The fact that they're fighting to prevent their industry from being enshittified by plausible sentence generators that can produce bullshit on demand makes their fight especially important.

Chatbots are the nuclear weapons of the bullshit wars. Want to generate 2,000 words of nonsense about "the first time I ate an egg," to run overtop of an omelet recipe you're hoping to make the number one Google result? ChatGPT has you covered. Want to generate fake complaints or fake positive reviews? The Stochastic Parrot will produce 'em all day long.

As I wrote for Locus: "None of this prose is good, none of it is really socially useful, but there’s demand for it. Ironically, the more bullshit there is, the more bullshit filters there are, and this requires still more bullshit to overcome it."

Meanwhile, AA still hasn't answered my letter, and to be honest, I'm so sick of bullshit I can't be bothered to sue them anymore. I suppose that's what they were counting on.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/07/govern-yourself-accordingly/#robolawyers

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0

https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[prettieinpink]

 ♡ PRETTIER HIERARCHY ♡

HAPPY 1.2k+ TO PRETTIEINPINK! Thank you guys for the support, here’s a lil gift from me to you. 

If you don’t want to read all of this, I created a hierarchy of everything you need to do to glow up, right at the end!!! But I recommend reading everything first <3

I’ve been trying to ‘glow up’ like forever, but there was no actual content out there that helped me glow up. Most people sugarcoated, or their lifestyles of glowing up just weren't sustainable for me. So, I created this post for everyone planning to glow up or maximise their prettiness! 

DISCLAIMER – THIS POST IS NOT DETAILED. I wanted to do a simple outline to give you guys an idea of what to do to maximise your pretty. A little help to plan, especially as we enter 2024, but I’ll expand on these individual topics in the future. 

GRADE 1 – HEALTH

Being healthy can make you SO pretty. Being healthy is the foundation. There are other ways to be physically healthy, but after doing these 4 the rest usually fall in place.  Here are some simple ways to become healthier, and then eventually prettier!

HEALTHY EATING.

 I'm not going to go super deep into this, as no diet fits everyone + Please consult with your doctor before taking any extreme advice. Though, I'll tell you a bit of things that helped me !!

Stop drinking soda. Please, it's so unhealthy and it's full of so many sugars. Even the ones that are 0 cal, have weird chemicals that I don't trust. Many more alternatives taste just as good, like coconut water, herbal drinks, smoothies etc! Especially because nowadays most large calories and sugar intakes are from sugary drinks 

Stop restricting, moderate it. I am a big fan of dairy, yoghurt, milk, and cheese, I love it all. However I acknowledge that dairy isn’t the healthiest, so instead I always ensure I'm eating in moderation. E.g I put a tablespoon of shredded cheese in my omelettes instead of a handful. You will enjoy healthy eating so much, but only if you're not restricting. 

Have one serving of fruit, vegetables, or both with each meal. It provides so many good nutrients, makes you fuller and keeps you hydrated. Measure with your palm to ensure you’re eating enough. 

Know that just because one food has fewer calories than the other, does not mean it is the healthiest. I struggled so much with this, especially because many weight loss accounts will mention this, but it is so wrong. White bread has fewer calories than brown bread, but brown bread is higher in nutritional value. 

Plan snacks. Planning snacks for throughout the day, instead of spontaneously eating is so much better. I recommend this for anyone who gets hungry during the day but not enough for a meal (like me!)

Drink more water. Not 1L a day, because it is so much more ideal for you to have a glass of water with each meal + when you feel thirsty. 

Start educating yourself. This is as much as I can tell you, im not a nutritionist or a dietitian but if you plan to ensure that healthy eating becomes your lifestyle, educating yourself is essential!! 

EXERCISING.

Once again, I'm only going to go surface level with this because it is only based on my personal experience + Consult with your doctor before doing anything extreme. 

Start aiming for 5k+ steps. I see a lot of people advertise 10k+ steps as the standard, or what's active, but it's not sustainable If you're a busy person with a sedentary life or a beginner at exercise it is gonna be hard to sustain that. But walking is so good for you and simple too.

Join your local sports! Such a fun way to socialise while still exerting energy. 

If you can't do that for whatever reason, there are many ways to exercise at home. Research and pick a workout that you like and is sustainable. E.g. jump rope, pilates, home exercises, weightlifting, biking

Start standing more, it exerts energy. While very little, it still is very good. 

That's it, but remember to always start small with exercising, and RESEARCH!

BETTER SLEEP

To me, it doesn’t matter how much sleep a person is getting, but much more rather the quality of said sleep. So, here are some tricks and tips to get better at sleeping!!

Investing in a good quality pillow is so good for your sleep, the more comfortable you are, the better + it reduces the chances of poor posture or hump necks 

Research about different sleeping positions, as some positions at night promote back pain, difficulty breathing or poor posture. 

Start sleeping in complete darkness. Remove all sources of light or invest in good light-blocking curtains OR binders. Though, binders seem to be much more effective but are more pricey. If you cannot do either of that, buy a good sleeping mask. 

Sleep in the cold. Your body easily falls asleep if your environment is cold, and you’re less likely to wake up in the middle of the night. 

It is ideal for you to stop using devices an hour or two before bed, but if it is not sustainable for you, wear red blue-light-blocking glasses instead of clear ones. Red ones are more effective. 

Avoid large physical or mental tasks before bed, use that time to unwind and tell your body it's time to go to sleep. 

Avoid napping for longer than 30 minutes, or it can disrupt the sleep you have at night. 

Go to sleep at similar times every day. If you go to sleep earlier or later than this, you will ruin your sleep schedule and feel groggy. 

I expand more here. 

ORAL HEALTH

This is a step many people will neglect, but the most important in my opinion. Your teeth are the only body part that fails to regenerate after a certain age. Here's how I take care of mine!

Brush your teeth for longer. Brushing your teeth should not be a sped-up process, put actual thought into it. 

Start flossing. Floss removes plaque, and reduces the chances of your teeth yellowing! Do this ideally after each meal.

Brush your teeth before you eat. Brushing my teeth is the first thing I do when I wake up because brushing your teeth is supposed to protect your teeth from the food, not wash away your food. 

If you have the means, buy an electric toothbrush, as this gets in the little nooks and crannies that a regular one cannot. 

Use a tongue scraper or your toothbrush to get rid of any bacteria on your tongue. 

Use straws to drink coffee or any heavily coloured drinks. This avoids the premature yellowing of teeth. Make sure you put the straw on the side of your mouth to avoid your teeth. 

Use good mouthwash. A total game-changer, makes your breath fresher and your gums healthier. 

If need be, definitely use a purple teeth serum as a whitening treatment.

GRADE 2: STYLE 

I do not mean literal clothes and style, that's in grade 3. This is all about basic grooming and such. This is 2nd most important, especially if you're somebody who’s never been invested in beauty.

SKINCARE 

Get a basic skincare routine, cleanser and moisturiser.

If you have other skincare concerns e.g. dry skin, hyperpigmentation, acne, or blemishes, invest in a serum. 

Avoid touching your face frequently.

Wash makeup brushes & pillowcases often.

Dermaplaning to help skincare absorb better. 

Use sunscreen!

HAIRCARE

 Invest in a good shampoo and conditioner for your hair type.

Use a good hair oil, it doesn’t have to be for growth, but just for nourishing your scalp

Sleep with a good quality bonnet on.

Find which type of hairbrush works the best on you!

Use warm water to remove product build up and dirt, but use cool water to rinse.

Buy spray suncsreen to put on your scalp during hot weather.

Once again, research. Hair is just too much of a broad topic for me to thoroughly talk about.

EYEBROW & LASHES

Trim your eyebrows regularly to avoid too many stray hairs

Tint your eyebrows and lashes. If you already have dark eyelashes and brows, try a lighter look. I seem to prefer a dark brown look to a black 

Invest in a good lash & brow serum or use any oil

Don't use Vaseline on your eyelashes.

 Limit how much you wear mascara. 

I talk more about this here. 

BODY & HANDS 

Have a daily shower routine which consists of washing, exfoliating and moisturising your skin. 

Using scented products is such a game changer, smelling good is like being a magnet 

Doing manicures, my routine is a cuticle scrub, file, buff, polish, paint then cuticle oil. 

Shave on the areas you want to. Having smooth skin is nice, but to ensure your shave lasts longer, watch a video. 

I post about creating a good shower routine here. 

LIPS

Invest in a good, portable lip balm. I prefer the ones that burn your lips to give it a more fuller effect

Make your lip scrub. Sugar, honey and turmeric are my go-to. Helps remove dead skin.

If you have hyperpigmentation around the lips, use glycolic acid, only a little.

GRADE 3 – FASHION

My favourite grade, because it is so fun and focuses more on the aesthetic side of things. However, they're not essential, which makes it all the more fun!

CLOTHES 

 I have a post about wardrobe essentials here. 

Find out about what season colours you are. This helps with using colours in fashion to enhance. ( if you don't like your colours it is okay, it doesn’t change much if you do not wear them) 

Figuring out your undertone colours for jewellery. 

Figure out what works for your figure. Experiment with necklines, bottom length etc. 

Find out your general style too, what you feel confident in and more assured. 

MAKEUP

Research and only watch tutorials of women who look like you (trust me). 

Dear Peachie has a bunch of videos of how makeup works, for beginners to more advanced artists!

Then make your signature look for every using your knowledge. 

FRAGRANCE 

Invest in a good eau de parfum and eau de toilette. Cheap fragrances suck. 

Invest in a good-scented lotion. My favourite brand is Vaseline.

Using a good nice fabric softener for laundry makes you feel and smell fresh

Using an expensive scented body wash doesn’t matter, invest in a good body lotion. 

HAIR STYLING 

Hairstyles that enhance your face shape, not shield it. 

Having a simple signature look for everyday

Experimenting with your hair is ideal, but if you can't for whatever reason once again research.

GRADE 4 – PERSONALITY

The way you seem to others can make you so much prettier. Fake it till you make it as always~

POSTURE

Having good posture makes you stand out, makes you look prettier and is generally good for your health

Chin is parallel to the floor, shoulders are down and relaxed, rib cage is elevated, pelvis is tucked in, your knees straight and flexed, and the weight on your feet should be in the center.

You can stretch for good posture, there are many videos on this on YouTube.

Ensure your sleeping position is promoting good posture, not poor. 

Buy a back brace to reinforce good posture.

BODY LANGUAGE

Learn how to move your body during conversations to seem more self-respected and confident.

Train your facial expressions for different situations, but especially for taking photos.

There are tons of books and videos on this, won’t expand because this is all about how you want others to perceive you. 

ELOQUENCE

Improve the way you communicate with others. Be fluent and clear to understand 

Expand your vocabulary, know how to substitute words on the spot and make sentences. 

Knowing what to say in like any and every conversation makes people like you more, and the best way to be more eloquent is just practice. 

There are so many good books about this.. read.

GRADE 5 – MIND

Personally, having a good mindset does boost your self-perception of your prettiness + being happier in general makes you more inclined to take care of yourself = being more pretty!!!

MENTAL HEALTH

Start journaling as a way to organise your thoughts and to truly analyse your emotions. There are a lot of journaling prompts on Pinterest and such!

Meditation as a way to clear the mind when needed is so good. There are a bunch more meditations for other purposes though like body image, productivity, focus or just general relaxation.

Go to therapy, or just have at least one person you can talk to when life becomes tough.

Cut back on social media. There's misinformation, trolls and a lot of content that isn't nourishing your mind. 

Get some sun! Simple and doable, but has a huge effect on the body. It can improve the current mood. Wear sunscreen. 

Start learning how to process situations, instead of bypassing the emotions that come with them. 

Start surrounding yourself with like-minded people. Seriously, being around people who are just too different is draining. 

MINDSET

Embrace growth and reject all forms of comfort. Being uncomfortable with something is growth. 

Don’t do things because you ‘have’ to do this, do them because they benefit you and see it in that way. E.g ‘I’m going to clean my room because I deserve a clean place to rest and work’ instead of ‘I have to clean my room’

Become detached. Stop letting everything that happens in your life affect you, start observing instead of consuming. 

Self validates yourself. Tam Kaur did a wonderful video on this that I think everyone should watch.

Stop believing that everything and everyone is out to get you. Your subconscious mind believes this, do not feed it, starve it.

There's a lot to say about mindset, but I recommend watching some mindset YouTubers who explain everything in depth.

and now,,,, here's a ANOTHER gift from lanny because u read her post. And liked it. And reblogged it. And followed her.. pleaseee

[thesiltverses]

Hey, wonderful people - we've had some really kind and increasingly worried messages coming our way, so just wanted to reach out and say that we are alive, we're really grateful for the support and concern, and again have to apologise sincerely for the extended and unscheduled hiatus.

Muna's sickness came back - then I was knocked out with the flu.

I'm up on my feet again as of today and working to finish off the next episode and get us back on track; I don't know if it'll be by Thursday, but I do hope to have it with you - genuinely and truly - soon, after which I'll work up a schedule for the final episodes.

(We're also not going to talk about this much online, but just to give a non-ominous and specific explanation for the sake of anyone who was concerned for us - the health challenges and extended stress we've been having are because we're expecting a baby in the summer. Muna's had some really rotten symptoms throughout, and we've been trying to find a new place to live before they arrive! So we've had some ups and downs, but it has all been for a good cause.

It feels weirdly appropriate and quite lovely, as we got married around the ending of I Am In Eskew - but all the more reason for us to get the final season complete before our family expands!)

Again, huge thanks for your kindness, support, and generally being wonderful.

[fictionadventurer]

That C.S. Lewis quote says friendship is about meeting someone and going, "You, too? I thought I was the only one," but I think Tolkien's portrayal of Legolas and Gimli provides an important corollary, where friendship can be about, "You like that?"

Lewis tends to portray friendship as two people bonding in a shared interest over something, and only then getting to know each other as people. His descriptions of friendship in The Four Loves (at least in his lecture version that I listened to) sound a lot like fandom friendships. But they're not the only kind of friendships, and I like that Tolkien shows us that the reverse can also happen.

Legolas and Gimli have very different interests. They're from totally different cultures that don't much like each other. Each one loves environments that the other one finds creepy and terrifying. Before Helm's Deep, Legolas talks about how much he hates being surrounded by stone, while Gimli loves it. But after they bond at Helm's Deep, Legolas finds himself interested when Gimli waxes poetic about the beauty of the caves beneath it. He's like, "I don't get why you like that, but you make it sound awesome, so I'll try it." His respect for Gimli as a person made him willing to expand his horizons to share his interests. Friends can find connection, not just because of their similarities, but because of their differences. And I think it's really cool that Tolkien portrayed that.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi, I love your writing! Are you still taking requests? What about a villain finding out his fav hero is actually an robot?

The hero went missing briefly and in their reunion his systems start to panic, the villain attempt to help? And finds out there is grey metal under his mask? Not skin?

"Oh," the villain said, soft. "Oh, I see."

"See what?" The hero stayed turned away, head bowed, frantically trying to shield his face. "Don't look at me. Just - what are you doing here?"

"I came to rescue you."

"R-rescue me?"

The villain stepped closer into the hero's cell. Heat radiated off the hero's back and, well. The villain pressed a finger to the back of the hero's neck; where the skin had burnt away, revealing the cold grey of metal and circuitry.

The hero gasped and whirled.

His face was - well, it was fried from the few short days he'd spent missing, captured. Where his enemies had tried to bruise him, bleed him, there were caved in spaces that revealed yet more metal. The hint of a perfect silver skull. Veins which throbbed with electricity instead of blood. Even one of the hero's eyes were gone, replaced by the startling blue of a machine staring back. Well, they were always blue but...so muffled, before, compared to what the villain looked at then.

The two of them stared at each other.

"You can't tell anyone," the hero said.

"I always thought you were too impossibly good to be true," the villain replied. "Too flawless."

"Don't," the hero whispered.

The villain took the hero's jaw, carefully, tenderly, in their hands. "Look what a mess they've made of you. I'll kill them for it."

The hero closed the one eye that he could. He trembled, so exquisitely life-like, so exquisitely alive, in the villain's palms.

"They must have been so angry when they found out what you were," the villain said. He let his finger stroke over the ruined curve of the hero's cheek. "I'm glad I got here before they destroyed you completely."

"Why? What are you going to do with me?"

The hero took a step back.

The villain let him go, for now, studying him with fresh eyes. More and more puzzle pieces clicked into place. "Do with you?"

"I'm not human."

"You're beautiful."

"I'm not - if people know -"

"I've never heard you talk like that before. System overload?"

The hero shook his head. Something sparked. "You're d-dodging the question."

"Well," the villain said, evenly. "I was going to take you out of here. Clean up your wounds at my place. That sort of thing. I could probably makeshift the kind of specialist support you currently need in my lab, but I imagine you have a much better set up at home. So I guess I'm taking you home. If that's okay with you."

"Home," the hero echoed. He stood frozen.

"Home."

"You're not mad? Mad? Mad?" The hero managed to jerk to a halt. He heaved a ragged, shuddering breath.

"No."

"I'm not human. You came to rescue a human. Human." The hero shoved a hand over his mouth. The tremors were more forceful than before.

If the villain touched him again, he would be fever hot, wouldn't he?

The villain shrugged.

"I don't understand," the hero said.

"Unsurprising. You're not running at full capacity right now, are you? So shall we pick this up again when you're out of here? And feeling a bit better? It would be tragic if I came all this way just for you to overheat in front of me."

The hero stared some more. The blue eye contracted and expanded, whirring noiselessly. The villain wished he knew what kind of diagnostics the hero was running. How it all worked. He wanted to know everything.

His brain, such as it was, must surely be the most gorgeous thing.

He'd always wanted to know how the hero ticked but this...oh, this. He held out a hand and smiled.

"It's a relief, actually," the villain said. "I'm not mad. Now. Let's get you back in your mask, shall we?"

By the time the repairs were done, it was impossible to tell. It was extraordinary. Giddying. A love letter to the best that people could be.

And the hero looked shattered by the truth of it.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As the trial date creeps closer, Bradley is having a harder time keeping himself from panicking. After you learn some interesting things about Bradley from an unlikely source, you do a little bit of digging. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

You slept in until ten. You were sore. The good kind. The kind where you couldn't stop smiling. As you sat up in Bradley's bed and stretched, your eyes caught on your purple crown. There was a piece of paper hanging from it now. You reached for it and read the note he had left for you.

Princess,

I left my computer and the charger in the kitchen. I also plugged your phone in before I left. There are Skittles in the kitchen cabinet. Please text me when you get up. Noah asked if you're staying for dinner. Please stay for dinner. 

I love you.

My computer password is password1234

You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Of course it is," you muttered, climbing out of bed and searching for something to wear. You made yourself some coffee with the vanilla creamer, and you spent the day filling out four job applications, eating Skittles, and attending a zoom lecture. You had done basically nothing strenuous, but by the time Bradley and Noah got back, you were yawning as you ran to see them. 

"Hello, boys," you said, kneeling to hug Noah. 

"Let's color dinosaurs," he told you, and you laughed as he led you to the table. 

"Don't I get a kiss or anything?" Bradley asked, unbuttoning his uniform shirt.

You looked at him and said, "You keep that on and I'll kiss you somewhere special later."

His hand paused on the buttons before doing them back up again. "Does that mean... you'd like me to have the uniform on later? Like after bedtime?"

You licked your lips and looked up at him, going for the most innocent look you could manage. "Please?"

Bradley grunted and kissed you a little rough. You tasted his tongue before pulling away from him. "I have dinosaurs to color," you informed him, dropping down onto the seat next to Noah. "And dinner is in the oven. I hope you like lasagna."

"You already know I'll eat anything you make," Bradley said, kissing you on the top of your head.

Noah tried to pronounce lasagna until you were barely holding in your laughter. "What's that?" he asked, handing you a pink crayon.

"It's kind of like spaghetti," you promised, coloring in a tyrannosaurus rex. "I already know you like spaghetti, so I'm just trying to expand your palate."

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "Can I have ants on logs?"

You knew he was going to ask, so you had already made them. When you took the container out of the refrigerator, Noah and Bradley had them polished off in a matter of minutes. "Your weekly grocery bill is probably more than mine is for the month."

"I don't doubt it, Princess," Bradley said, biting into the last carrot stick, still in that sinfully hot uniform. "Let's eat dinner, and then I'll clean up while you and Noah play."

"And then you'll take me home?" you asked cautiously looking up at him where he stood.

"Do you want me to?"

You didn't answer him. You just turned back toward the coloring book while he pulled dinner out of the oven. Did you want to leave? And go back to your tiny, lonely rental? No. You were still wearing Bradley's clothes, and you kind of wanted some more of your own stuff, but you didn't want to leave. Not really. You said nothing, and he didn't ask again. 

He did everything else to get dinner on the table. He plated the food, got drinks, and set the table. Then after everyone including Noah enjoyed the meal, he cleaned up. "You don't want help?" you asked, scooping Noah up in your arms. "Then we're going to watch some Mickey Mouse while we play with blocks."

"Sounds good," he said, putting some foil on the leftover. "Love you," he added casually as you took Noah into the other room. No, you did not want to leave.

------------------------

Bradley was still wearing his uniform. He'd tried to change out of the shirt twice now, but both times you had stopped him. Noah was looking a little sleepy, and Bradley didn't know what you wanted to do. He wanted you to stay over again. He wanted you to stay over until he got through the court appearance on Wednesday and hopefully returned home with Noah, free and clear of Meredith. But honestly, he wanted you with him longer than that.

"Princess?" he asked softly, and you stood up from the pile of blocks that Noah was working on.

"Yes, Daddy?" you asked, standing right in front of him and smirking. If he was alone with you right now, that smirk would be gone in an instant. 

"I need an answer, Baby. You want me to drive you home before I put Noah in bed for the night?"

Your hands found his waist as you gazed up at him. "I want to stay here, but I don't want to distract you leading up to Wednesday."

"Stay," he sighed. "Stay. We can swing by your place and pick up some of your things and then come right back here, okay? Stay."

So that's exactly what the three of you did. Bradley stayed in the Bronco with Noah while you ran inside your place for a couple minutes, and you came out with your usual tote bag plus a backpack. 

"You don't mind if I keep using your computer, right?" you asked before you climbed back in the front seat.

"You can use anything at my place."

The smile you gave him in response had him thinking about asking you things he had no business asking you yet. He closed his eyes briefly before putting the Bronco in reverse and heading back to his house. When you reached for his hand in the dying light, he held yours. And when you asked to turn on the playlist you made for Noah, he fell even more in love with you. 

Noah was half asleep by the time Bradley carried him inside, and when he reemerged from his son's room, you had changed into your own clothes. Bradley kind of missed his oversized shirts on you.

"I have a fun idea, Daddy," you said, and he was practically salivating in response. "I'm going to teach you how to cook."

His brow furrowed and he gave you a look. "That doesn't sound fun at all."

Your laughter in response had him agreeing with you anyway, and you were immediately coaxing him into the kitchen. "We can use up all of your food, and tomorrow I can go grocery shopping for you if you want. I could drop you and Noah off in the morning and then use your car."

"Baby, it's not a car.... it's a Bronco. And you can use it if you promise to be very, very careful with her. You can't park next to the cart return. Actually, you can't really park by anything. No trees, no shrubs, no other cars. Nothing."

You were trying not to laugh, he could tell. "Sure, Daddy. No problem. Now let's start cooking."

He kissed you softly. "You gonna let me change out of my uniform yet?"

"Don't ask me stupid questions. Of course not. You look hot. Now go ahead and grab all of the ingredients for this recipe," you told him, handing him your phone. He sighed and skimmed a recipe for chicken stir fry.

"Princess, there's no way I'm going to be able to make this," he murmured.

"That's an order, Lieutenant Bradshaw!" you snapped, and Bradley was instantly looking at you. "Or I'll make you do fifty push ups!" 

"That's nothing, Baby. I'll do a hundred for you," he said with a smirk, but what he got in response was a slap on his ass. 

"Get to work," you told him, hopping up on the counter with a bag of Skittles and a no-nonsense look on your face.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled, reading through the recipe again.

"And that dinner better be edible, or I'm not going to suck your cock, Lieutenant."

"Yes, ma'am." He read the recipe a third time before he got the chicken out of the refrigerator. Bradley was starting to get a little nervous about Meredith, but you were certainly helping him keep his mind off of that. He got a cutting board and a knife ready along with some vegetables. 

"Don't forget the salt," you whispered, holding out a green Skittle and popping it in his mouth. 

"Thank you," he whispered back. And you kept offering him little hints here and there. You told him he was cutting the vegetables too small, and then you fed him a purple Skittle. You told him the oil needed to be hotter, and then you fed him a yellow one. You reminded him to keep moving the food around in the pan, and then you let him take a red Skittle from between your lips with his mouth.

"You're better at cooking than you think," you told him. "Noah won't have to keep eating boxed foods."

"That's really your goal here, isn't it?" he asked you, pushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead with his forearm.

"Of course. I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about him," you replied with a playful eye roll. "What's he supposed to eat when I'm not around?"

"Why would you not be around?" he asked cautiously. Then his mind started swarming with thoughts of Noah living with Meredith. 

He watched you chew on a Skittle before you softly said, "I'll be around." Your eyes dipped down his chest to his pins and buttons. You looked so young and sweet, and you reached for the knob to turn the burner off. "Don't want it to burn."

Bradley nodded and got a plate down. He carefully scooped some of the hot food onto the plate and handed it to you for inspection. "Give me a fork, Lieutenant," you commanded, and Bradley grabbed one from the drawer while you blew on the food. "I just ordered you a rice cooker and an apron from Amazon. The rice cooker will make your life easier, and you'll look cute in an apron that says Hot Daddy."

Bradley laughed as you raised the fork to your lips. "Thank you, but baby, I don't want you spending your money on me. You haven't even graduated yet."

"Just pretend like you never paid me to watch Noah, okay? I don't like that you ever did."

"Okay," he whispered, placing one hand on either side of you where you sat on the kitchen counter. He watched you take a bite of the chicken, and you moaned softly. Then you tried some of the vegetables before you fed him a bite.

"It's so good. And I barely helped you at all."

Bradley was actually impressed that he'd made something that tasted that nice. "So I have no excuse now but to make Noah a homemade dinner? Is that what you're saying?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," you said, smiling at him as he set the plate aside. "You know how to cook, Lieutenant. I'm so proud of you."

He leaned in and rubbed his nose against yours before kissing you. "Do you still want me to do push ups for you?"

"Kind of," you replied, kissing his mustache. "Just because it would be sexy." 

Bradley did fifty push ups while you stood in front of him and counted them off, and he looked up at your legs and your denim shorts the whole time. 

"Damn, Daddy," you groaned as he hopped up when he was done like it was nothing. "My boyfriend is so strong!" He didn't even have time to respond before you were unzipping his pants and slipping your hand inside. 

When you knelt in front of him, he said, "You weren't kidding about sucking my cock, huh?"

"Not at all," you whispered looking up at him. Your lips were glossy again. Whatever you grabbed from your house, it must have included your lip stuff. God, he loved the way you looked. He loved the way you felt. He loved your tongue, licking the bead of his precum away as you stroked him with your hands.

"You're really fucking good at this," he moaned as you wrapped your lips around him and sucked gently. He stroked your cheek as you took him a little deeper, swirling your tongue as he throbbed. "Goddamn it." The slow, deliberate drag of your lips along his length was enough to make him buck gently.

You moaned around him before pulling him free, and then Bradley was treated to you sucking on his balls until he was panting. "Baby," he whined, his cock resting on your face. You weren't going to let him go any faster. He couldn't decide if fast or slow was what he wanted, so he left you in charge. 

And he was not disappointed when you licked him from balls to tip and said, "I want you to cum on my face."

He ran his knuckles along your cheek and chin. "You're so gorgeous, Princess. I'd love to paint you up and make you even prettier."

"Daddy," you whined before taking him so deep he saw stars. You bobbed along his length, gagging as you tried to take all of him. Your hand was cupping his balls and your saliva was dripping onto the floor as you gagged again. You looked up at him with watery eyes, and this time when he stroked your cheek, he could feel himself.

"So good," Bradley growled. "God, you're the best."

You sucked and bobbed until he was sure he was going to lose his mind, and then he withdrew with a snap of his hips. He stroked himself twice, whispered, "I'm about to cum," and then he watched you flinch and giggle as ribbons of white landed on your cheeks and lips. His cum hit your nose, and then you opened your mouth for him.

"Fuck," he grunted, pumping every last bit onto your beautiful features, and then he was between your lips again as you licked him clean.

"Baby, don't move," he begged, scrambling to find his phone. "Will you let me take a picture?"

"Yes," you said with a laugh, licking him from your lips. "You can add it to your dirty photo album. Remember the passcode?"

"I sure do," he grunted, snapping a few pictures of you kneeling on his kitchen floor with his cum on your face. And then he was kneeling too and kissing you and telling you he loved you. 

-------------------------

You slept better in Bradley's arms than you ever did at home. He told you once you were curled up in his bed with him that he was getting nervous about the custody hearing. You tried to be encouraging. "There's no way anyone would let someone take Noah away from you. You're his only parent as far as he's concerned. He only knows love from you, Bradley."

"And you," he said softly. Warmth filled your heart as he added, "Noah knows that you love him. He lights up around you, and he's just as comfortable with you as he is with me. You're the best thing that ever happened to us."

You were supposed to be the one comforting him. But you ended up dozing off in his arms filled with hope instead. The next morning, he let you drive his Bronco "as a test" on the way to Noah's daycare. You had offered to keep Noah with you for the day instead, but Bradley insisted you spend your time finishing your school projects. 

"Okay," Bradley said as you parked in the daycare lot. "I'm fine with you driving the Bronco around. Do you remember the rules about parking lots?"

"Oh my god," you mumbled. "You're really not going to get Noah out and move along with your day until I answer correctly, are you?"

"No." His face looked serious as you laughed and promised you wouldn't park next to the cart return, another car or any sort of living plant.

"That's my Princess," he crooned, running Noah inside once you'd said goodbye to him. Then you dropped Bradley off at work, but this time, you crawled across the seat to straddle his lap for a moment.

"I love you," he whispered as you combed your fingers through his hair and kissed him. 

"I love you too, Daddy. I'll pick you up here at five," you promised, pressing your forehead to his. "And then I'll cuddle you all night, and you won't be worried about tomorrow at all. I can see on your face that you're thinking about Meredith. But think about Noah instead."

He wrapped his arms around you and sighed. "I'm always thinking about Noah. And you. And us." He kissed you one last time, and you let him climb out. "I love you, Princess."

You waved to him on the sidewalk, and then Jake joined him, and you waved to both of them. Then you stuck your head out the window and called out, "Can't wait to have you again later, Bradley! Oh, hi, Jake."

Then you started the engine again as your boyfriend laughed while Jake walked away. If you could at least make him laugh today, maybe that would make dealing with tomorrow a little easier. But it was hard not to think about what he and Noah might be up against. You couldn't let yourself dwell on it. Instead you drove to the grocery store with Bradley's credit card tucked inside your wallet.

You got all the staples, including your coffee creamer and everything you would need to make a big batch of ants on logs. Then you picked out some things you could teach Bradley how to make along with everything Noah liked. And you spent over two hundred dollars. Bradley had assured you that you could get whatever you thought they all needed and put it on his credit card. 

You were skimming the receipt as you pushed your cart to the Bronco. "Yikes," you muttered, loading bag after bag into the back, extra careful not to bump his precious vehicle with the cart. Then you closed it up and took the cart to the return. 

Just as you were digging his key out of your pocket, you looked up. You made eye contact with Meredith. She was standing there, right next to the Bronco.

"What do you want?" you asked. Your voice sounded strong, and you realized you were not even slightly intimidated by this woman when Noah wasn't with you. What could she really do to you in the middle of a parking lot at nearly ten in the morning?

She looked angry, eyeing you up and down and glancing at the Bronco. "I can't believe he lets you drive that. It's worth a fortune," she said, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder and scowling. 

The car key was digging into your clenched fist, but you didn't close the distance to her. "Let me rephrase my question: What the fuck do you want, Meredith?"

"Such a filthy mouth on you. And you're spending time with my child," she said casually. "Lovely."

"Are you following me?"

She rolled her eyes, and you hated her so much. You supposed you could see how she was physically attractive, but you only felt the desire to kick her. 

"I'm not following you. I'm about to go grocery shopping. This is the store I always come to. But I wouldn't mind chatting a bit. I'd be more than happy to use your potty mouth and the fact that you're sleeping with Bradley against him in court."

You laughed out loud. "Well, you'd have to actually show up first. Are you going to be there tomorrow? Or run and hide at the last minute again?"

Her scowl was back. "You have a lot of questions, huh? Well, so do I. Is all that life insurance money still in an account for Noah? Or did you spread your legs open wide enough to get Bradley to pay for your little nursing degree?"

You gasped out loud. You would never do that. You loved Noah and Bradley. And now you were afraid you'd just walked into a trap. Meredith was looking at you from ten feet away like it was a showdown. One that she intended to win, because she brought the correct ammunition when you clearly had not. 

"I guess the money is still there then," she said, starting to look more satisfied. "You know he'll never commit to you, right? He was always afraid of commitment."

"Yet you're the one who abandoned her child," you said softly, but not without conviction. 

She took a step closer to you, venom in her voice. "I didn't want to be held down, but things change."

"Do you even want him? Or are you just trying to get back at Bradley?" you asked, unable to stop yourself. "Because Noah deserves a family who loves him. You left them. But Bradley loves him. Bradley would do anything for him."

Her voice was like steel. "And I deserve a lot more than what I'm getting." She spun on her heel and started to charge away.

"What does that mean?!" you called after her. But she didn't stop or turn back. "Meredith!" You got nothing but the back of her blonde hair, and then she was in her BMW and driving away.

"What the hell?" you muttered to yourself, hands shaking as you put the key in the ignition and started the Bronco. You had to sit for a minute until you were calm enough to drive. Thank goodness you hadn't kept Noah with you today. Thank goodness you'd been alone. And at least Bradley didn't have to deal with this either. 

Oh, he was going to be so upset when you told him later. He'd be mad you didn't interrupt him at work this instant, but you weren't going to do that. You needed to get back to his house right away and get on his computer. Carefully, you put the Bronco in drive. Apparently this thing was worth a fortune. Bradley had a nice house, and he probably paid a pretty penny for Noah's fancy daycare. He told you to spend his money on whatever you wanted at the grocery store. But there was some sort of life insurance money, too? What was going on here?

Your brain was swimming, or maybe drowning as you parked in Bradley's driveway and forced yourself to carry in the groceries and put all of the food away before you locked the front door behind you and turned his computer on. You entered his ridiculous password which you were definitely going to have to make him change, and you started your search. 

Hours went by, and you subsided on only coffee. Then you checked the time on your phone. It was almost five o'clock. You were going to be late to pick them up, and now you had more questions than answers as you ran back out to the Bronco.

-------------------------

Okay, Meredith. Okay. Daddy will see you in the courtroom. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 24

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