#if theres any mistakes no there isnt. i am about to get five hours of sleep

[whumpcloud]

Pretty

direct continuation of delirium (but you don't have to read it to understand)

taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @gala1981 @whump-in-the-moonlight @ohwhumpydays @morning-star-whump

content: captivity whump, lady whumper, creepy/intimate whumper, defiant whumpee, beatings, choking, begging, burning, references to self-harm via burning, references to suicide and murder, very brief reference to being buried alive, threats of beating & breaking bones & being left outside, smoking

He doesn't regret it, even with Ophelia's hands wrapped around his throat.

"Lia," Nicolas wheezes, "let him g-go. Fucking shit."

Derian clutches at the grass. He can feel Ophelia's nails scratching into his skin.

"You know the only reason you aren't dead, pretty boy?" Ophelia hisses. "Because Nicky doesn't want me to kill you. Remember that the next time you lay your fucking hands on him."

"Mhm," is all Derian manages to get out.

Ophelia lets him go, and Derian curls up on the grass and takes the sort of breath that makes him feel as though his lungs are going to burst. He can hear Nicolas gently waving Ophelia away and mumbling "I'm fine"s until she lets him be.

Derian is pulled to his feet by his shirt.

"That was pretty brave," Nicolas smiles, and Derian realises just how much he hates Nicolas' stupid smile.

Well, he already went for it once.

He doesn't have the advantage of complete surprise this time, but he still manages to kick Nicolas in the knees hard enough that Nicolas drops him. Ophelia is on him in an instant, slamming his head back into the ground. He only whimpers from the force.

"I didn't put my hands on him," Derian breathes.

The next minute or so is a red blur. Derian is vaguely aware of Ophelia screaming at him, but he's more aware of the blood flying from his face. He barely even registers the impact of being beaten. Just blood.

"-enough, that's enough," he hears Nicolas say, though he sounds far away. "Come on, Lia. You had your fun."

Ophelia says something in response, but Derian doesn't hear it. It doesn't matter. Derian weakly pushes himself to his elbows and coughs out the blood congealing at the back of his throat. Nicolas kicks his boot into Derian's chest without even looking, and Derian wheezes and buckles back onto the grass.

"There we are," Nicolas says softly. "Breathe out."

Ophelia exhales, and unclenches her fists. "Okay. I'm okay."

"Good, 'cause you're patching him up."

"But you're better at it!"

"But I have work." Nicolas folds his arms. "You like eating, yeah?"

"Shut up," Ophelia mutters.

Nicolas laughs and punches her in the shoulder. "I'm teasing. Go on, drag him back inside. I'll see you later."

Derian whimpers softly as Ophelia pulls him to his feet. His head lolls forward, and more blood drips onto the grass. He feels like a ragdoll. But he fought. He smiles through bloody teeth.

He's dumped on the sofa, and while Ophelia gets the first-aid kit, he gingerly touches the skin around his eye. He bites his lip. He must look like a wreck.

"I think you annoyed him," Ophelia says, and Derian glares up at her. "Don't shoot the messenger, pretty boy, I'm only stating a fact. Burying you did the opposite of what he wanted."

"That's his fault," Derian says.

"Yeah, I mean, I was going to throw you from the roof, but he was worried you'd break your neck."

Derian genuinely wonders, sometimes, if she means anything she says, or if she's just so used to threatening people that she doesn't realise she's doing it.

Ophelia kneels down in front of him so she can clean his face without having to hold his head up. She seems to be listening for something. They both hear the minivan start up, and skid down the road.

"Hey," Ophelia says suddenly. "You wanna smoke?"

Derian looks up from his hands. "What?"

"Wanna smoke?" Ophelia repeats. "You did before, unless you were just wasting all the cigarettes you used to burn yourself. And if you tell Nicky I smoke I'll break your legs with a hammer."

"Got it," Derian mumbles. "And… yeah."

He winces. Ophelia isn't gentle wiping the blood from his face, but she's normal about it. Derian is starting to almost prefer her to Nicolas. He flinches a little just imagining Nicolas' hands.

When she's done, grabs a rope, ties it around Derian's wrist, and pulls him outside, even though he follows willingly. She ties it to a metal loop in the wall, then produces a pack of cigarettes from her dress pocket.

Derian hates that he missed smoking. He's always wanted to quit, just never "got around to it" as he kept saying. But of course it isn't the real reason. It never is.

He leans back against the wall as he blows smoke into the air. He relaxes, in a way he hasn't done since being brought here. Ophelia folds her arms. Neither of them say a word, for a little while.

"Who were you?" Ophelia asks. "Before we took you?"

Derian flinches in surprise, then looks over to her. "What do you… mean?"

"What did you do, what did you like, that sort of shit," Ophelia shrugs. "I mean, I know you were a dancer and you had a boyfriend. That's it."

Derian narrows his eyes. "Why the sudden interest?"

Ophelia sighs. "Just answer the question."

"There's nothing else to say." He focuses his eyes on the ground. "That's all there is."

"Then why'd you burn yourself?" she asks.

Derian's grip tightens. "I don't have to tell you fucking anything. Why do you even care?"

She shrugs. "Can't we have a civil conversation?"

His head snaps around to look at her. "You want me to be fucking civil?"

"Okay, better idea." Ophelia blows smoke into Derian's face. "Have a civil conversation with me, or I'll beat you with a tire iron."

He swallows, coughing softly, and turns away from her again. "F-Fine. What do you wanna know?"

Ophelia gestures vaguely. "Family?"

"Dad," Derian mumbles. "Mom died when I was a kid. Only child."

"How'd she die?"

"Killed herself."

"Mm." Ophelia fidgets. "So did ours. I don't remember though."

"Oh." Derian awkwardly kicks the wall. "Any other parents?"

"Nicky killed our dad when I was eleven," Ophelia says nonchalantly. "Don't tell him I know. He acts like I'm still a kid sometimes. He won't admit it when I ask him."

Ophelia, without a weapon in her hand, without the anger that Derian is used to, comes off as very normal. He isn't that surprised. There was always going to be a moment like this, where he had to remind himself that they're the same people who would've killed him if he hadn't begged. It unsettles him all the same.

"Did he deserve it?" Derian asks.

Ophelia nods. "Yeah. You think we're bad? He was worse."

"And you hurt people anyway?" Derian raises an eyebrow.

"It's fun." She shrugs. "We don't pretend like we're any good for it. Dad did. So Nicky snapped."

Derian looks up into the clouds. "Do you think I'll snap?"

Ophelia laughs, a genuine, soft laugh. "Nah. You haven't got it in you. Nicky was always like that. Both of us were. If it wasn't Dad, it would've been someone else. You're too nice."

"Nice." Derian exhales. "I'm an asshole. I was an asshole before. That's why I burned myself. 'Cause I fucking hated being one."

"Yeah, you're an asshole, Derian." Ophelia sighs and shakes her head. "Doesn't matter. You couldn't kill anyone, is the point. You're actually a good person."

Derian shouldn't be taking a murderer's word for it. But he isn't going to tell her she's the only person to ever say that without him forcing them to. Charlie never meant it - she would only tell him that once they'd stopped fighting and Derian was crying into her shoulder, pleading for forgiveness.

He has nothing to lose by believing it, he supposes. Or at least believing Ophelia means it. Derian has never thought of himself as a good person, in that horrible, desperate way where he needs everyone to reassure him that he is, despite knowing he'll never agree.

He's dragged from his thoughts by a burning sensation in the side of his neck and Ophelia's hand holding him in place. It's a familiar pain, but it forces a whimper from him, which seems to be enough.

"Sorry," Ophelia smirks. "I needed to put out my cigarette. Should I put out yours as well?"

Derian shakes his head, slapping his hand over the burn. "N-No! Don't. Please."

"Please," Ophelia repeats, leaning in closer. "I love it when you beg."

"I know," Derian hisses.

Ophelia punches him in the stomach, stepping back so she can watch him double over in pain, and stamps out his cigarette on the grass. She pauses, then makes a non-committal sound.

"I thought about leaving you out here for a minute, but that would be kind of boring." Ophelia rests her fingers over Derian's throat. "Beg me not to, though."

There it is again. Uncertainty.

"And if I don't?" Derian dares.

"I'll beat you and then leave you out here." Ophelia smiles, with the sinister edge Derian's come to expect. "I think there's a storm tomorrow."

Derian takes a breath, and glances aside. "Please don't."

"You can do better than that, pretty boy," Ophelia says, palm pressing against his Adam's apple. "I know you can."

"P-Please," Derian says again, unable to stop himself from stammering. "Don't- don't leave me out here. Please."

Ophelia purses her lips. "Nope, not doing it for me."

It's always strangulation that she falls back on. Derian scratches at her with his free hand, but it doesn't seem to bother her at all. She presses him against the wall, leaving him no room to kick or struggle, and only lets go when tears well up in his eyes.

Derian stumbles, but braces himself. There's always bruises around his throat now, but he isn't going to kid himself and pretend that it makes it any better. It hurts the same.

"Try begging now," Ophelia says.

"Please," Derian rasps, still trying to catch his breath. "P-Please don't leave me out here."

Derian flinches as Ophelia leans in again, close enough to whisper in his ear. "I know you're sick of hearing it, but damn, you're pretty."

It keeps him alive, being pretty, and suffering. If he ever, ever escapes, he'll start burning his face instead of his chest.

[olliscowizz]

High Ground - Olli Matela FF

Hiya everyone. This is my first FF ever published on tumblr. Please bear with me and let me make some mistakes lolz. BTW english isnt my first language and theree could be like a lot of mistakes. Pls let me know if you like it. :)

It was hard being a young rising star in the music business. What was a lot harder was being a woman in a mainly men orientated music business, where you couldn’t say something without being misunderstood. That’s how Sara felt almost all the time. She was talented, nobody had their doubts about that. The problem was the people didn’t really have a lot of expectation when it came to her skills as an observer. Which they always explained as: “You’re so young you cant possibly be smart enough to make a decision about your life. It will harm your career. Do you want that?”, the y guilt-tripped her into thinking she was the problem. But she never really paid it any attention. She loved singing and making music in general, was her greatest passion.

On this day she was on tour in Finland, where she was to meet the entry of the Eurovision 2021.

She walked into a chaotic hotel room. There were clothes everywhere and she saw beer bottles just standing on surfaces. Men, she thought.

“Hi you must be Sara”, said a man while he walked into her vision. “My name is Joel, we’re actually all pretty big fans of yours”, he smiled at her. She didn’t believe him. Why should she? People told her all the time, they liked her music, but most of them had a foul reason behind their kindness. So to not seem rude, she smiled at him and told him it was also nice to meet him.

“The other boys just went out to grab some food, they left me behind to clean up. As you can see I didn’t came too far”, he laughed at his own joke, turned to her, saw that she wasn’t laughing and immediately stopped. She wasn’t in the mood for jokes. This was a business meeting. They had to talk about something she understood. Music.

“So what’s your position in the band?”, she asked him while she walked further into the room and picked up an empty beer bottle. While inspecting the paper on the back of the bottle, she didn’t understand anything, she waited for an answer.

“I am the singer”, he smiled proudly and she couldn’t help but gift him one of her rare smiles. “Do you need help cleaning up? I was told we should do a collab and I honestly can’t work with so many beer bottles and Pizza boxes lying around”, she honestly told him to which he nodded.

Together they started picking up the trash in silence, both completely focused on their own thoughts.

That was until the door suddenly opened and five young men came running in with various pizza boxes. All that cleaning for nothing, Sara thought.

“Oh hi you must be Sara”, one of them smiled over the boxes. “Sorry I cant shake your hand, they are kind of occupied”, he apologized and put the pizza’s down, the rest following his lead.

“I am Niko”, he introduced himself. “These are Joonas, Tommi, Aleksi and lastly Olli”, he pointed at the other members. They couldn’t introduce themselves it seemed, but it didn’t bother her. She just wanted to start what she was told.

“As I was told by my manager, your direction of music is called violent pop”, she asked them, turning her back to them, which she knew was rude. She didn’t care. She wasn’t here to make friends. This was business. One of them cleared his throat. “Yes that’s what we call it”, he explained an smiled at her, when she turned herself back to them. She believed it was that Niko guy. She decided she liked him. He seemed nice enough. “Okay. Then lets get to work boys”, she tried to sound motivated but it ways hard.¨

She was thrown into this industry when she was the sweet age of 15 years old and now, six years later she is still here. She loved making music and she was really good at it too. But she couldn’t see herself being happy in the long term with her current team. The band was amazing. They were all really sweet, but her manager was little asshole and the rest was useless as well. Only having their paycheck before their eyes.

“Aleksi here actually sampled some melodies and wanted to show you”, Niko said again and gave the guy called Aleksi, that he should show her, which he did.

He was good, she must admit. Very good. She told him that. No point in not saying the truth. She wanted this collab to be successful, so she had to see where their strengths lay. She didn’t really look into them, when she was told about the collab. She wanted to be surprised. And until now she was pleasantly surprised. They were all very nice to her and they seemed to be talented as well.

“Okay since your music is a bit harder than mine, how about we build up the song?”, she suggested and then she was in her modus. She suggested things, made notes and listened to everything the had to say. It was amazing how far the came in just a few hours.

At around 9.00 PM the boys started to get grumpy. The pizza was eaten long ago and they seemed to be hungry. “Y’all want to take a break”, she asked them, to which they all nodded. “How about we end things for today, get a few drinks and then start again in the moringn? All fresh?”, the drummer Tommi suggested and everyone agreed. But Sara had to decline their offer. In all her six years of fame she wasn’t caught outside drinking with friends. Not that she didn’t want to. It was her manager, Mr. Smith, who had a problem with her having fun. He insisted she couldn’t afford any bad publicity. She never had any to begin with. Except for a few controversial lines in her songs she never had any scandals.

“You sure you don’t want to join us?”, asked Niko, whit whom she got along pretty well. “I’d love to but I really cant. I was actually never in a bar”, she admitted the last part so only he could hear her. She looked at the floor, suddenly embarrassed. Which person who was 21 years old was never in a bar before. Only her, apparently.

“No worries, we wont pressure you”, he tried to cheer her up and put his hand on her shoulder. “Well, see you all tomorrow boys”, she said and quickly left the room.ryoneHiya ev

It was hard being a young rising star in the music business. What was a lot harder was being a woman in a mainly men orientated music business, where you couldn’t say something without being misunderstood. That’s how Sara felt almost all the time. She was talented, nobody had their doubts about that. The problem was the people didn’t really have a lot of expectation when it came to her skills as an observer. Which they always explained as: “You’re so young you cant possibly be smart enough to make a decision about your life. It will harm your career. Do you want that?”, the y guilt-tripped her into thinking she was the problem. But she never really paid it any attention. She loved singing and making music in general, was her greatest passion.

On this day she was on tour in Finland, where she was to meet the entry of the Eurovision 2021.

She walked into a chaotic hotel room. There were clothes everywhere and she saw beer bottles just standing on surfaces. Men, she thought.

“Hi you must be Sara”, said a man while he walked into her vision. “My name is Joel, we’re actually all pretty big fans of yours”, he smiled at her. She didn’t believe him. Why should she? People told her all the time, they liked her music, but most of them had a foul reason behind their kindness. So to not seem rude, she smiled at him and told him it was also nice to meet him.

“The other boys just went out to grab some food, they left me behind to clean up. As you can see I didn’t came too far”, he laughed at his own joke, turned to her, saw that she wasn’t laughing and immediately stopped. She wasn’t in the mood for jokes. This was a business meeting. They had to talk about something she understood. Music.

“So what’s your position in the band?”, she asked him while she walked further into the room and picked up an empty beer bottle. While inspecting the paper on the back of the bottle, she didn’t understand anything, she waited for an answer.

“I am the singer”, he smiled proudly and she couldn’t help but gift him one of her rare smiles. “Do you need help cleaning up? I was told we should do a collab and I honestly can’t work with so many beer bottles and Pizza boxes lying around”, she honestly told him to which he nodded.

Together they started picking up the trash in silence, both completely focused on their own thoughts.

That was until the door suddenly opened and five young men came running in with various pizza boxes. All that cleaning for nothing, Sara thought.

“Oh hi you must be Sara”, one of them smiled over the boxes. “Sorry I cant shake your hand, they are kind of occupied”, he apologized and put the pizza’s down, the rest following his lead.

“I am Niko”, he introduced himself. “These are Joonas, Tommi, Aleksi and lastly Olli”, he pointed at the other members. They couldn’t introduce themselves it seemed, but it didn’t bother her. She just wanted to start what she was told.

“As I was told by my manager, your direction of music is called violent pop”, she asked them, turning her back to them, which she knew was rude. She didn’t care. She wasn’t here to make friends. This was business. One of them cleared his throat. “Yes that’s what we call it”, he explained an smiled at her, when she turned herself back to them. She believed it was that Niko guy. She decided she liked him. He seemed nice enough. “Okay. Then lets get to work boys”, she tried to sound motivated but it ways hard.¨

She was thrown into this industry when she was the sweet age of 15 years old and now, six years later she is still here. She loved making music and she was really good at it too. But she couldn’t see herself being happy in the long term with her current team. The band was amazing. They were all really sweet, but her manager was little asshole and the rest was useless as well. Only having their paycheck before their eyes.

“Aleksi here actually sampled some melodies and wanted to show you”, Niko said again and gave the guy called Aleksi, that he should show her, which he did.

He was good, she must admit. Very good. She told him that. No point in not saying the truth. She wanted this collab to be successful, so she had to see where their strengths lay. She didn’t really look into them, when she was told about the collab. She wanted to be surprised. And until now she was pleasantly surprised. They were all very nice to her and they seemed to be talented as well.

“Okay since your music is a bit harder than mine, how about we build up the song?”, she suggested and then she was in her modus. She suggested things, made notes and listened to everything the had to say. It was amazing how far the came in just a few hours.

At around 9.00 PM the boys started to get grumpy. The pizza was eaten long ago and they seemed to be hungry. “Y’all want to take a break”, she asked them, to which they all nodded. “How about we end things for today, get a few drinks and then start again in the moringn? All fresh?”, the drummer Tommi suggested and everyone agreed. But Sara had to decline their offer. In all her six years of fame she wasn’t caught outside drinking with friends. Not that she didn’t want to. It was her manager, Mr. Smith, who had a problem with her having fun. He insisted she couldn’t afford any bad publicity. She never had any to begin with. Except for a few controversial lines in her songs she never had any scandals.

“You sure you don’t want to join us?”, asked Niko, whit whom she got along pretty well. “I’d love to but I really cant. I was actually never in a bar”, she admitted the last part so only he could hear her. She looked at the floor, suddenly embarrassed. Which person who was 21 years old was never in a bar before. Only her, apparently.

“No worries, we wont pressure you”, he tried to cheer her up and put his hand on her shoulder. “Well, see you all tomorrow boys”, she said and quickly left the room.

[angrylizardjacket]

time’s arrow {Roger Taylor}

Anon asked: Hi, I love your roger/ben imagines so much and was wondering if you could do some angst with Roger x female, maybe they are good friends and she sees him with another. Whatever you would like! Thank you x :)

A/N: 2727 words. A story told through Seasons. I took a little bit of liberties with the prompt, if that’s okay? This hit me like a lightning bolt and I had to write it. Angst with a happy ending. (I’m just trying to show I’ve got versatility in writing, okay?)

Warnings: Implied sex.

You meet him in Spring, before it all begins, he sits up the back of your Intro to Head and Neck Anatomy lectures, the only class with open spots available by the time you were looking for a science credit. You find out he’s in a band three weeks into the first class, finally going to the local bar, sick of cramming your brain full of information you’re not even sure is necessary for your degree. He grins at you and wow okay, you didn’t even think he’d recognise you.

“You’re in, um,” he’s leaning against the bar next to you in this dimly lit pub, grabbing a drink between sets. Faltering for a moment, his eyes travel down before you clear your throat, angry at yourself for blushing, but his smile widens, “my class.” He finishes, taking a sip of his beer. You agree, rolling your eyes at him, but even that seems to amuse him. He asks your name. The guitarist is calling him over, setting up for the next set, but you tell him before he leaves. Something tightens in your chest when, later that night, he catches your eyes mid-song, his look of intense focus shifting for a moment as he grins, giving you a wink.

He takes to sitting next to you in lectures, chewing the end of his pencil and taking occasional notes in a falling apart notebook that looks as though he uses it for every class. You catch lyrics in the margins and at the bottom of some pages, but he’s cagey about that in a strange way, just says you’ll have to come to a gig to find out what they’re about. So you do.

Gigs become a regular for you, and you start to become friends with the girls who frequent the shows, often hosting predrinks in your dorm room for Mary and her friends on a Friday night. You learn on one of those nights that at least two of the girls have hooked up with him, and there’s a strange, sinking sensation in your chest. You’re not sad, or at least, you tell yourself you shouldn’t be. You and Roger are just friends, it’s not like there’s anything going on there, sure, sometimes after a really good show he’ll give you a pash, but it’s- that’s just him. 

It’s not like you’ve never thought about it, but you also know his reputation, and that it’ll do more harm than good to get involved with that. He’s the one mistake you don’t think you want to make.

It’s Summer, a few years later, when they trade in the van to get money to hire the recording studio. Roger had really loved that van, and he lay on your sofa for a solid hour grumbling about it, about how Freddie had some kind of nerve. You roll your eyes at him, call him a drama queen, which he takes offence to, but moves obligingly when you sit down, letting him rest his head in your lap.

When you raise the point that it might be worth it, he looks frankly aghast, griping about how he has to catch lifts everywhere now. He calms down somewhat when you start carding your fingers through his hair, though he still pouts.

“If it comes to it, I’ll buy you a car, you baby.” You snort, despite the fact that you’re currently barely making a living wage on some retail job, it’s not where you’d thought you’d be after university, but sometimes that’s just how it is. He looks up at you, and when you look down at him, he’s looking very intense. Perhaps he might say something poignant about your offer, you think, but instead he reaches up and pokes your nose.

“I can see up your nostrils.” He tells you, and you smack his hand away, scowling. You stand abruptly, ignoring his complaints, smoothing your pants out against your thighs.

“Come on,” you offer your hand, which he regards with both confusion and a bit of disdain, “you can’t mope around my apartment and complain about the band again. We’re going out.” That gets his interest.

You’ve been to bars with him before, and usually you go home alone while he gets the pick of the prettiest girls of the night, or he decides to wingman you, which hurts your heart a little, but you won’t decline. You were attractive in your own right, you won’t deny that, you didn’t technically need his help, but a selfish part of you likes the way the attention to you, even if it’s to help you get with other people.

Tonight is different, tonight he doesn’t leave your side, he slings an arm around you as the two of you stand by the bar watching the truly mediocre band they had on that night. 

“You know why they aren’t recording an album?” You ask as the set ends.

“Because they didn’t sell their van?” Roger mused, vaguely bitter, but not melancholy as he swirled the last of his drink in his free hand.

“No, it’s because they’re terrible.” Turning, you smile at your own blunt remark, and when he looks back at you, he’s grinning with a little disbelief. There’s very little space between the two of you, but that doesn’t make your heart race anymore, he’s your best friend, close contact was part of the bargain. But he kissed you, quickly, without warning, and when he pulls back, he turns away to order another drink like nothing had happened.

Your mind is spiralling, this isn’t post-gig excitement, this wasn’t something you were expecting. The selfish creature in your chest that you tried to deny for so long was crowing with victory. Taking a quick look around the bar, you don’t recognise anyone, though there are a few girls who look like they’d be his type- but his hand is moving to wrap around your waist as he turns back.

“What was that?” Voice quiet, you take his drink and have a sip of it yourself, the movement done from muscle memory alone. He raises his eyebrows at you, not regarding the drink, that was a usual occurrence, but at the question. He doesn’t seem to know how to answer, baffled at the question. Dropping you gaze, you take a sip of your own drink. “Why me? Why tonight?” You asked. Looking incredulous, he stepped back, looking you over.

“Have you seen yourself tonight, love? Couldn’t help myself.” You’ve heard him talk like this before, to other girls, not as blunt, but with you he can get away with it. The creature in your chest is elated, and you find yourself smiling, actually blushing. He moves closer once more, his arm around you, voice low as he spoke into your ear. “Trust me, you look very fit tonight, any man would be lucky to have a crack at you.” Heart in your throat, you hope you’re reading the situation right, at the same time ignoring the part of you that knew this was a bad idea.

“Even you?” You turned to face him, watching the way his smile shifted to a smirk, and he pulled you a little closer.

“You know I’m always feeling lucky.” 

You kiss him, feeling your blood thumping in your veins, selfish and excited in equal measure, but with his hands on you, you can’t find the focus to care about the former. 

Once the bad starts up again, Roger pulls away, making a face at them, asking if you wanted to get out of there. You do, and the two of you are elated on the quick walk back to his apartment, stopping only when he pressed you up against the wall of an closed shop to suck a hickey into the skin of your neck. You catch sight of it in his bedroom mirror, but he’s pulling off your jacket and you have better things to worry about.

It’s not weird, like you thought it would be, when you wake the next morning and he’s curled up, fast asleep with his back to you, but your chest aches just a little. He avoids eye contact over breakfast, though you chat like normal. The gripes about his van have died down, though he makes an offhand comment about things are changing that you read enough into to realise what had happened.

“You’ll always have me, Rog.” You reach across the table to take his hand, and he finally looks you in the eye, he looks so relieved, not that he’d ever say it. Afraid of losing another thing he cared about, he had panicked last night and tried to keep you close in the only way he knew how. He certainly loved you, but not in the way you wanted him to. Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you give him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. It’s not his fault.

Bohemian Rhapsody airs in Autumn, you’re regional manager now, and you’re sitting in your office when you hear for the first time; you almost scream when the first harmony comes in after the radio host introduces the song.

“You’re a star, Rog!” You gush over the phone on your break, unable to wait until that night when the band was having a celebratory get-together to talk to him.

“Of course, I am, you think I sing that high to be paid in peanuts?” You can hear the smile in his words without even seeing him, and being able to hear his voice warms your heart.

“That was you?” You laugh, the ‘Galileo's playing back in your head, and you try to picture him singing it, which only made you laugh harder.

“Oi,” he bristled, indignant at your laughter, “I’m the only one with the range to execute Freddie’s vision.” You could see him in your mind now, proud and stubborn, standing tall to defend the decision.

“I’m proud of you.” Suddenly sincere, you find your smile turning to something more genuine as you think back on far he’s come.

“Thank you.” His own voice has become less animated, more sincere, though you can still hear him smiling.

“Love you, Rog.” You tell him, just as you always did when you parted ways.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

He’s grinning, draped with casual confidence in an armchair in Freddie’s living room when you arrive, and you feel like you’ve been taken back five years, the casual enthusiasm he’s exerting. Smile brightening, he stands when he sees you, striding across the room to enfold you in a hug.

“Good to see you!” He practically beams at you, holding your shoulders as he looks over you, as if assessing you, seeing if anything has changed.

“Of course, you’ve been holed up for weeks, I wouldn’t miss this for the world!” Though he’s in front of you, you’re words address the room as a whole, and when he steps back, Brian moves in to hug you as well, asking how you’ve been.

The boys are your friends, all of them, you’ve been around for most of their big band moments, and it eases something in your chest to be here for this one too. But then the ease sharply tightens as a woman you’ve never seen before sits on the arm of Roger’s chair, and he rests a hand on her thigh, smiling up at her.

Mary follows your gaze, and her smile is sad as she pulls you down to sit beside her, asking you about your thoughts on the single. You answer, though your heart’s not in it, and the selfish creature in your chest rears it’s ugly head after such a long slumber. 

The monster has shifted, changed and grown, it hadn’t cared about him running around with any pretty girl he could find for the past few years, but this was different. Roger had made it clear that he was far from sacred, but this was the band, this was Freddie’s home, this was the place of some of your happiest memories; this was yours. 

You stay well into the early hours of the following morning, despite the interloper, but Roger still stopped you at the door.

“I’m really glad you could make it, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” He’s smiling at you, but you don’t smile back. It’s been a long night of being kind and pretending that you’re heart didn’t hurt.

“Well, you’ve very busy.” You shrug, punctuating it with a yawn. His expression turns confused, and you open the door.

“Y/N.” He tried to get your attention, but you left, throwing a goodbye over your shoulder to him. “Love you.” He calls through the door, but you stay quiet, refuse to say it back, just keep walking. You’re too tired to be upset, but maybe you’ll get there tomorrow.

Things change, and you’ve grown to accept that, but sometimes old aches don’t heal like they should. Or at all.

“I’m getting married.” He calls you at the end of Winter.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” 

Your relationship’s been on the mend in the years since the Bohemian Rhapsody launch night. You two smile and laugh like you had when you were younger, and you’ve learned to listen to his exploits and his gripes about women, offering your own about your partners, though they’re few and far between. He’s still your best friend, and you learn to act like it. 

“Congratulations.” Your voice is flat. It had been a shock, you’d heard about his latest on-again off-again girlfriend, and had even offered advice in certain situations, actual advice, no malice at all.

“Thanks.” He doesn’t seem to know where to go from here, and silence stretches out between the two of you.

“I should go.” You finally murmur.

“What? Why?” He spluttered, and you sighed deeply.

“Was there something else you wanted to talk about?” You asked, closing your eyes and leaning your forehead against the wall.

“I- no, but I want you to be there.” He paused. “And I wanted to be the one to tell you.” Clenching your jaw, you make a snap decision.

“I can’t-”

“Why not?” He actually sounded angry, which was perhaps warranted, though your next words shut him up.

“Because it hurts, Roger.” After a beat, your voice is quiet. “Because I love you.” Taking a breath, you let yourself relax. “I want you to be happy, but I can’t watch you marry someone else.” There’s silence for a very long moment, but you hang up before he can respond. You take the phone off the hook. You need to be alone, just for now.

“After everything, you still-?” It’s the first day of Spring, and he’s on your doorstep, seemingly unable to say the word love. You’re wearing your pyjamas and he looks like he’s just walked out of a Rolling Stone cover shoot, though he just sort of looks like that now, you supposed.

“Don’t worry about it.” You try not to betray how much his visit shocked you, or the way his very presence after your recent conversation hurt you.

“You’re my best friend! Of course I’m gonna worry about it!” He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. Sighing deeply, he stepped forward. “I thought I fucked everything up when we hooked up, I’m sorry, I panicked.” He was looking at his fidgeting hands, rather than your surprised expression. “And then... I thought I fucked it up again when I chose the band over you.”

“You never-” You tried to protest, but he smiled self-deprecatingly.

“No, I did. I loved you, and I thought that would get in the way of the band.” Clenching his jaw, he looked up and you could see the regret in his eyes. “It was easier to fuck around that tell you I love you.” Your breath stopped in your throat as he finally walked closer. “And I thought after everything, that you deserved better; you know what I’m like, why would you-?” But you cut him off with a kiss.

“You’ll always have me.” You murmured, finally letting yourself smile. Nothing about it felt selfish, in fact, it felt as though the sun was finally shining on you, warming you from the inside out.

“I know,” he agreed quietly, wrapping you up in a hug.

[chatpile]

reasons i am leaving my job: - i dont get to do any surgery. i was promised one surgery day per week. by the end of next week, i will have had one in twenty weeks. five percent of what i was offered. i will never learn to do surgery here. i’ll be here a year and unable to do a cat spay. i’ll be unemployable anywhere else. i’ll be stuck here forever. - some of the staff are horrible. the way alisha treated me while i was on nights, i cant reconcile with. gemma doesn’t like me, and she and james gossip and bitch about me behind my back. james, who is supposed to be my mentor, is never going to actually mentor me. my pdp hasn’t been started. theres no feedback. any mistakes i dont pick up on myself im going to keep making. shirley asking if she can be ‘cheeky’ and telling me to call an owner, for a case that isnt even mine, three hours after i was supposed to finish work, when i already saw an extra... is total bullshit. i do not matter to these people an i never will. - the unfair expectations. on which world, in which universe, in which alternate dimension, are conscious hip radiographs possible? sole charge four days per week, in fact, sole charge from my second week of working. ultrasound with no tuition or backup. im left to flounder alone. im being set up to fail. its embarrassing. ten minute consults - work life balance you know what fuck this shit i just get angry when i think about it

[ts-akhmim]

Episode 13 | “STIMULUS CHECK? NO BITCH HERE'S A REALITY CHECK” - Adam

so. its over and im out of the game. i waited a couple hours to write this because i knew i would hurt some feelings if i didnt and if we learnt anything from today its that jake's feelings get hurt real easy and we wouldn't want that would we. i think the reason i have struggled (and likely still will) to get closure is because i don't think this makes sense for jake? i've had some frustrations and some suspicions with jake over the past two rounds but i had no intentions of cutting him any time soon. i am a shield he so desperately needed what is wrong with him. like even if i wanted to cut him how on earth would i have got it done? with what numbers. to use a quote from autumn in the game we played together before but adapted for this instance, "today we learned unless jake feels like the prettiest girl at the dance every minute of every day, you’re not doing enough". now to the fun stuff. i want to just tribute to adam and autumn. adam is someone i was SO sus of at the start but he is a gem. his personality is so vibrant he is a true gem. autumn hill is who i wanna dedicate this to and focus this on. autumn is one of my best allies ever and one of my favourite ORG people ever... what a complete. legend. such a role model to me in my real life, she has taught me to be confident, to back myself and to not take any shit and for that I'm so grateful. i literally am so honoured to call her my friend and i cant wait to meet her in person when she moves to the UK WOOOO. anyway i've also moved on from being 100% self negative. i fought so hard this season i played so so so hard and i fought my way to F8 despite being a threat since F21. i did the damn thing and im proud, and even tho it sucks that all my fighting was cut short by my closest ally i tried my very best and that's all i can do. thank you to the hosts for bringing me back, its been a... journey hehe

I don’t think anyone is ready for this round or at least what’ll come of it... I’m expecting an explosion or a mess given Jakey thinks he’s staying, TJ has been lied to, and hopefully Autumn or Adam leave next... its all a mess. If Jakey goes, I’m planning a 2-2-2 split between Autumn and Adam where we maybe get Autumn out but Adam leaving doesn’t hurt either. 

Well that vote blows... I really thought I had someone that I could navigate this end game with and then it got completely taken away from me. Now, I know I have to do what’s best for my game. And there’s two scenarios I see being possible: 1. Staying with my alliance and voting out Autumn/Adam and then risking that the three Beauties will actually cut someone in that group. 2. I flippy flippy and vote with Autumn (oh dear, I’m actually considering this?) and get Amir out to set myself up with Kendal and Augusto to get to the F3. Amir just told me he has the Beauty idol, so this may be my only shot to get him out of this game. I really need to consider both of these options, because I think this is the round that makes or breaks my entire game.

Having a mental breakdown over the fact that I’m probably gonna lose jakeys friendship And even tho our friendship was 100% real and I love him so much he’s gonna think it was all fake

https://66.media.tumblr.com/0d8a51f03cf584de6183ffd755b60d02/tumblr_nsvsd4arRn1rrcjuxo1_r1_400.gifv

Not a single person in this game has ever wanted to go to the end with me except for kendall Jakeys trying to take her out right now and i want to keep jakey in the game so bad but 4 people want him out so bad and the only way to save him is with my idol and i want to keep my idol and i want to keep a relationship with kendall but augusto will know that its my idol that saved jakey so my entire game will be blown the fuck up so i have to just let him go strategically, Since jakey is leaving, i wanna try and make sure adam is next because hes the strongest competitor that will be left and if i make it to five and four i need to win comps. Okay I need to actually strategize lmao so after this vote if it goes as expected I believe autumn has the idol, just based on how she was behaving Her and adam and me are afraid of tj kendall Augusto final 3, however, if that does become a final 3, I can force it out of kendall, so as long as Adam and autumn do not win immunity, we can split the vote on them, or just 3 beauties vote together strong. I’m also using autumn and Adams target on tj to make tj want them out even more, so next round, autumn and adam vs tj is a thing, and the 3 beauties can be safe as long as it doesn’t tie, and if worst comes to worst, I still have my idol, which can get me in the final 5 but I really really want to save my idol for final 5 

JAKEY GETS VOTED OUT

So here’s my dilemma for the round: I basically started the Adam name with Amir. I would prefer to go with that because I don’t know if I can beat Adam at the end. The problem with this though is that I don’t want to lose Jakey if he’s so for getting rid of Kendall. So where is the middle ground here?

So I think tonight is going to be my night. I have a lot of power right now in this game oddly enough. Are people potentially going for me, yeah, but I'm going to be safe which means I probably have enough room to screw up whoever's plan I would like to. Amir wants to do a 2-2-2 split, which I can easily screw up if I get Adam and Autumn on my side (which I see possibly happening). I can more than likely convince Autumn she doesn't need to play an idol if she's the vote (maybe on that one). And I know Adam wants to make a move with me saying Augusto is trying to get the vote on me or Autumn, which shows my concern that the three Beauties are at least locked to final four (I don't think they'd all take one another, but I don't think they'll turn on one another just yet). So now, here's where I may be able to take a stand and put myself in a spot where I may have some control. I need that one move that is at the top of my resume... can this be the one? Question is: what the hell is that move?

I was really confident last night we had a good plan set up but today I dont know why in my gut i feel like im about to be voted out, i dont want to be a pessimist but im just making this so i dont feel like a *complete* fool so um yeah...... we're about to go to tribal in a matter of minutes, autumn isnt playing the idol so im gonna feel real dumb if i gave it to her and she screws me over, but i did my work, and at this point all i can do is sit and keep my fingers crossed things go my way, but trust and believe even if im voted out yall will see ONE final confessional from me dragging them left and right. 

Okay back to this game, so basically, I do not trust anyone at this current moment not a single person except maybe kendall, this is the most wild vote I have ever ! I think I’m getting bamboozled literally, OKAY OKAY OKAY so Augusto tells adam that he wants to do autumn, Adam tells me and autumn that, we talk to autumn, autumn gets tj on board. From my perception, autumn and adam should be believe that us 4 are voting Augusto and leaving kendall out of it. But then tj and I already told Augusto that plan, and the real plan is to 2-2-2 them, Incase one of them plays an idol. But I have so much fear from the things that tj has been telling Augusto about his fear of my idol and me being at final 5 and 4, and also telling me he’s scared Theres no cracks in the beauty alliance, so he might actually agree to that plan with us and then 3-2-1 me by telling them everything because he literally could do that And then whoever wins immunity is going to change everything even more, because of one of them wins, the other can play the idol on themselves which is a whole ass mess in itself, and right now, it just comes down to if I trust tj and Augusto . R they telling me the truth or are they lying ? Like I’m dkdjdjnd kdndkdnd Anyway, I probs am playing my idol today cuz I don’t wanna look like booboo the fool but also we love risks, so I might just not play my idol, idk idk it depends who wins immunity and it depends on the vibe I get from tj moving foreward 

So I haven't really been making confessionals... In my defense I have been busy but that doesn't mean I haven't been active... So I have a final 2 deal with everyone in the cast sans Autumn. I have a deal with TJ, I have a deal with Augusto and I have a deal with Amir. And as much as it sucks I am going to stick to Augusto and Amir. Sorry TJ you are a good bean but I don't want to lose to you. 

Should I blame the whole plan on tj http://prntscr.com/ss4sie

i didnt make a confessional before the live since i wasnt sure what the HELL was gonna happen so hello coming to you LIVE from the afterlife because yall didnt THINK you could fly me off this island without one last adam rant for the season did you? for the first time in all 3 times ive played actually....feeling some type of way over being voted out, maybe it's just because of quarantine and having literally nothing better to do, but i took this game seriously and i tried my damndest. I think my fatal mistake was trying too hard (or maybe not enough?) today with certain people, i was trying to play them all and my biggest fear of them either comparing notes and catching on, or they just didnt want to hear me out, ALSO THE TWIST PLEASEEEEEE im kinda glad if i went out it was kinda just....in that big bang of a mess, i mean, a legacy advantage and an idol being played AND wasted? ugh i really had the gals and gays shook and bothered!! because at least now i can blame that to feel slightly better about myself, because trust and believe if i had even just TEN MINUTES to strategize i think i couldve convinced autumn to use our idol on me because i had a feeling in my gut it was coming especially with how silent it was, i also regret not CAUSING A DAMN SCENE. I HAD 10 MINUTES TO SAVE MYSELF AND I REALLY LET MYSELF BELIEVE I WAS IN THE CLEAR AND NOW IM CLEAR-LY OUT THE GAME. foolish man. (foolish man being ME). but whatever. at least i got to clear my name from THOSE DAMN BEAUTYS, I KNEW THEY WERE GONNA BE MY UNDOING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER SINCE DAY 7. im not entirely bitter at anyone for lying to me since i was lying just as much, but ultimately i feel like for the entire season i did the best with what i had. I could be a complete fool but even now that im out of the game i STILL stand by what i said with how i feel like i played with my back against the wall for most of the game and i felt like it was truly SO hard getting people to want to work with me especially early on and FOR WHAT REASON? but whatever, it made the game interesting to me at least because i felt like they wrote me off, so i wrote my own ending. and clearly it wasnt the ending i wanted, but im surprisingly at peace with it in a weird way even just as im typing it out, i feel like for the first time in my tumblr survivor career i didnt just sit back and do nothing, i got to get my hands a little dirty, be apart of some good plays, and according to ali i actually did have some sort of a shot at winning r i p, im a really competitive person (the downside of being an aries) so the fact that i even got to play the game and enjoy making moves, i know i tried my best and that's what matters in the end!!! Also not to toot my own horn but im VERY happy i can at least say im happy with my  finishes being 3rd, 5th, 6th.. not bad for a girl with no talent! not me realizing with me getting 6th place and all these idols/advantages coming out i almost had a cirie game changers moment... ugh even more iconic. anywho AUTUMN IS THE ONLY ONE I WANT TO WIN SO SHE BETTER DO THE DAMN THING. 

hey you guys, it's me adam coming to you from post tribal where i was just voted ou- what? huh?? they didnt vote me OUT??? gorl what in the 2020 is going on here because i was shocked, i mean im THRILLED, the devil works hard but i work harder (autumn too ofc she probably did more than me actually DKJSA) - BUT im a little in awe because guess what this is the FIRST time i really just had to trust the people i have been talking with and they didnt screw me over, yet at least, i know jake was just a universal threat especially after the little stunt he pulled... so now my thoughts on that, ill tell you i was ready to go into tribal and for him to try and verbally murder me on his way out, so im glad he didnt do that but im always ready to fight so i wouldve loved the drama. kinda sad we didnt get it SDJKAF but all in all, i was all for working with jake to take down that other side, but if youre gonna burn me you better prepare for the inferno im gonna fire back, and sure the others couldve just wanted jake gone for their own plans, but i think me and autumn absolutely did THAT and thats that on that. I knew TJ was going to vote for me thanks to Kendall because me and her have truly bonded over wanting to get jake out this round for throwing both of our games into chaos, and guess what, while me and kendall may not have been talking as much before, im about to get REAL buddy buddy with her she's suddenly my bestie boo because now that we're at 6? game on. I want kendall in the end with me and i need to keep convincing her that she needs me with her and ill vote with her, and i think she's interested in it unless she's playing me because she did give me that TJ tea, which love tj as a person im actually not mad, he will just need to be voted off next still if i have anything to do with it OOP. He doesn't really fit into any of my plans, plus he's officially the only person to vote for me now except for either liam or the prejury? probably the pre jury, so now i know i probably cant trust him, but getting amir out next could also be the move, it all really depends on immunity, im gonna keep up on my appearences, get my princess diana wave on and be bestie boos with as many people as i can because my strategy at this point is to just make sure everyone believes they need me around, im not a THREAT im here to HELP you, but ultimately im only looking out for my best interest like hello its the game, and autumns too for now because she still has that idol that we can play to benefit both of us, so who the hell knows what's gonna happen live tomorrow but bring it on because im ready for a battle 

So now that that's done and I'm cute and immune, I can confirm it all. Yes I do have the merge idol, yes I've had it since Final 7 but planned not to play it until Final 5, and yes that makes me the most powerful person here. Deadass everyone wants my head on a stick and I don't give a single fuck. I'm chilling all weekend, letting them think they're doing something if/when I lose win immunity, and then I'm sending a man out on one vote Monday night. You think they hate me now? Wait til they find out they can't take a shot at me until Final 4 lmaaaaoo. Be blessed!

[psychostrilondes]

HI IM GONNA WRITE MORE davekat because im disgustin

i made this little babie post that said like, dave hides in cramped little spaces like closets and laundry rooms sometimes and needs to be coaxed out, and ye!! its mostly when hes close to his version of panic over a delusion, oh no, oh no im not safe, where is, i cant find it, i need, i cant, everyones looking to kill me, im horrible, ive failed and im still failing, things like that? all hidden behind his flat mouth expression and No Words, and when it gets really bad the expression doesnt change at all but maybe he starts crying with how pent-up afraid he is and has to dip three fingers behind his shades to wipe the tears onto the sleeve of his god pjs , and, something has to Happen, and if theres no way to fight whats happening, and no one is around right now like its the middle of the night, the only option is to hide??

so imagine at like 4 am on the meteor or even in his lil house on earth c or just wherever, dave stalking down the hallways with his 1/2swordkind in his hands, clutched so freakin tight, and hes Cool and doesnt have much adrenaline even though hes scared bc he knows he needs to stay calm to fight if something jumps out at him, and there are so many perceived threats even though hes maybe actually totally safe, and hes on guard while he walks to ,,,, somewhere? anywhere thats more unfamiliar and cramped than his room, because whatevers stalking him would obviously know to check his bedroom for the man himself, so maybe he goes to the little walk-in food pantry they’ve got and shuffles aside some big bags of whatever of makeshift storage to hide behind them, or like, hides way back behind the laundry machines and, wherever, he curls up really tight with his knees to his chest and his specibus tucked away and ready to be drawn in a split second should he need it, and he’s so used to hunkering down in weird spots from his childhood, ugh, its just too natural and too bringing-back-memories, ugh, dangit

so he just kind of sits back there, totally hidden, and lets his adrenaline build up and he starts trembling and just kinds of , waits, for the feeling to pass, might , take a while , ah

and karkat and him have had this routine that he’s foregone today in favor of heavy dissociation, karkat hangs out in the main room with a book he’s reading and waits for dave to wake up even though dave wakes up like two or three hours after he does, its cool, he can use the reading time? its no big deal? its a big book anyways, but then, it’s four hours that hes been hanging out in the common room, and then five, and um, hes getting bored of reading, like u cant just read forever hehe

after five and a half hours he decides to go over to daves block and just wake him the heck up, itd be kinda cute to see him all sleepy and he totally has this image of messy-haired shadeless dave in his head, and hes kind of in a good mood, and he knocks, and theres obviously no answer so he punches in dave’s doors password like its nothing, nbd, and daves literally just

not in there

wtf ,,,, there goes his good mood hehe dave just Doesnt skip their whole eating breakfast together in the morning thing, either theyre about to argue or somethings kinda wrong?? is dave hurt or something?? did he get kidnapped by somebody on his way to the bathroom?? he laughs a little, and over the next hour he asks around for dave and gets a thorough “nuh uh” answer from just about everybody, and then, um, where the heck is dave. where’d he go.

after asking literally everybody he asks rose and kanaya last and kanaya sort of looks really worried?? oh no,, rose explains to him with equal worrie that maybe dave isnt feeling well, and we’ll keep an eye out, but she’s being freaking cryptic in the way karkat hates about her and he just leaves without unendingly pressing her about it bc he knows its useless by now lol

so for the next hour and a half hes just. looking where dave usually likes to go

dave isnt at any of his favorite spots, and if its earth c he even asks daves favorite cafe’s baristas if theyve seen him yet, and they say no, and its literally the afternoon?? um?? ugh

he’s gone freaking everywhere and karkat just ends up back at home or back where he started and he just ,,,,,, doesnt know what to do

its been hours and hours, its almost been like, all day, and karkat misses him, damniiiiiit, hes so sad :( in his Misery he wanders down the hall to make something to eat since he literally hasnt eaten , he ................... sees daves red outfit in the dark from where hes hiding under the shelving.........

wow , he just has this little second, like “um,” and he has this second to look and see his knees to his chest and his hands still clutching his hair, sort of frozen like that, and karkat crouches and says “dave..?” and dave startles and his hands re-clutch into white hair and oh no, oh god its happening, its happening im gonna die, oh no, this is just and im gonna be gone oh no fuck fuck and he cant stop some more tears from just Pouring omfg and he kicks out his cover, a big tub of whatever miscellaneous, and his 1/2swordkind is back in his hands and shielding his body from karkat, and karkat says “hey, whoa” and holds up his empty hands, “its just me dave, karkat, its karkat” and dave doesnt move, and his mouth is in a grimace, he totally just, caught that hes holding up his sword at his boyfriend?? karkat?? karkat’s here, this is karkat he’s looking at, and karkat just watches him, and settles a little when dave does, and his sword lowers a little as he falters, um, and he realizes he made a mistake, wtf omg

hahaha umm, but hes still so sure karkat is here to kill him maybe?? that might actually happen ,,, so dave does lower his sword and set it aside VERY slowly and cautiously without turning his eyes away from karkat, but he doesnt move from where he is , um,

and karkat settles out of his crouch and sits down on the floor there, and like, “have u been hiding here the whole time?” and dave stares at him like hes surprised karkats here?!?!?!?!? when did karkat get here wtf

an hes dissociating out of his darn mind, like it feels like hes been hiding behind this big box for years,,,,, and most of him feels like hes vulnerable with the box pushed out and away and he has to cover himself back up in case Someone Else comes in, and part of him is so happy his boyfriends here, karkat can make it safe, when he was upset earlier karkat was asleep and he couldn’t verbalize his emotions to wake him up or anything, omg, and dave just stares at him a whole bunch without even blinking, just taking in that his boyfriends here >w< dangit that would personally make me so happy too arg 

karkat asks if he ate anything today, and asks when dave started hiding in here, and dave cant even process what hes saying to him but its okay!! karkat says, if you come out we can grab some food, i bet youre hungry right? and dave totally realizes that the cramps in his middle are actually from not having eaten and not from internal stomach insects and it must be really late in the day? and dave nods a little, and thats really good, really good that hes responding, honestly its been more than 12 hours and his back hurts really bad and his butts Beyond Numb and he could really use a blanket and a bowl of cereal .......

so karkat inches into dave’s hiding spot with him, sort of over the course of their conversation, and then by the time dave’s nodding or shaking his head to his questions karkat is back there in the dark with him, and he comments on how cramped it is back here what the heck?? how are u not atrophied?? and literally within One Minute dave is hugging him, he even initiates it because dave is a total cuddle monster, and they just sort of hug for a little while , and 

theyre so cute :(

karkat instructs dave to shuffle out of there with him, and he helps dave up and supports his weight for a minute because his joints Freaking Hurt, and he holds him up until dave stops trembling and then they hold hands together really tightly and go and make something easy to eat like cereal or hot pockets or what ever

and then they eat the hot pockets

and its good

and dave still isnt talking but thats cool, hes still a little fragile, but its ok, dave is nodding and tapping his fingertips silently on his thigh and maybe he’s not feeling it yet but hes warming up, karkat can make up for the other half of silence , its really nice to get food in him, and within the next hour he says “what the hell, karkat” and then “you’d think they’d know how to make those” and its clear dave is gettin back in the swing of things :p 

and that is the story of dave spending 16 hours hiding in a food pantry ... thnk u im garbage

[writingguide003-blog]

How should young women react as #MeToo moves into dating? Female writers discuss | Anne Perkins, Iman Amrani, Marie Le Conte, Rachel Shabi and Ash Sarkar

New Post has been published on https://writingguideto.com/must-see/how-should-young-women-react-as-metoo-moves-into-dating-female-writers-discuss-anne-perkins-iman-amrani-marie-le-conte-rachel-shabi-and-ash-sarkar/

How should young women react as #MeToo moves into dating? Female writers discuss | Anne Perkins, Iman Amrani, Marie Le Conte, Rachel Shabi and Ash Sarkar

Five female commentators share their views on how Aziz Ansari and Cat Person are taking the #MeToo debate into todays dating scene, showing gender disparity and raising consent issues

Women

The panel

How should young women react as #MeToo moves into dating? Female writers discuss

Aziz Ansari and Cat Person are taking the #MeToo debate into todays dating scene, showing gender disparity and raising consent issues

Anne Perkins, Iman Amrani, Marie Le Conte, Rachel Shabi and Ash Sarkar

Wed 17 Jan 2018 07.48EST Last modified on Wed 17 Jan 2018 17.54EST

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I recognise that by blaming Graces response, I am also saying that on one level Ansaris behaviour is OK. Photograph: Cassie Wright/WireImage

Anne Perkins: Being young is the time when you should be utopian in your views

Part of me wants to give Grace a really good shake. What did she expect, dating Aziz Ansari, a man 10 years older than herself and famous enough to have an overdeveloped sense of entitlement, whatever his public reputation as a thoughtful and considerate person fully signed up to #MeToo. The message of his haste to leave the restaurant, the food barely finished, the wine untasted, and race her back to his apartment is so blatant it might have been written up in one of those neon bubbles.

Her failure to tell him where to go once things went pear-shaped when she was there is even more worrying. Sure, she indicated that it was not what she wanted. A genuinely thoughtful man of course would have responded appropriately. He didnt. She should have left. That is level one in elementary social skills.

But I recognise that by blaming Graces response, I am also saying that on one level Ansaris behaviour is OK. Thats what men do. Its down to women to handle it. Get used to it.

And the point of telling stories like this is to say to other women, and men, its not you, its him. To say, check your ideas about consent. Consent is not the absence of rejection. It is not a tense silence. It is not passive. It should not be capable of being misread.

Utopian, perhaps. But whats the point of being 23 if you dont refuse to get used to stuff thats wrong?

Anne Perkins is a Guardian columnist

Iman Amrani: Bad experiences should not be lumped with serious assaults

There are three main things in my experience that can expose young women to exploitative or uncomfortable situations. First, money. Whether its keeping a job or a roof over your head, the need for it can push some women into circumstances that they wouldnt freely choose. Second, ambition. Drive can lead to women feeling forced to put up with things that they know are unacceptable, in order to achieve a greater objective.

Both of these factors expose women to abuses of power as we have seen in many of the cases of workplace harassment, from Hollywood to Westminster to all the women contributing to the #MeToo movement. Its this power struggle that adds weight to the stories about hands being placed on womens knees or unwanted advances, and its important this movement continues.

The third trap is the desire to be liked. There is a societal pressure on women to be attractive, friendly, and grateful, felt most acutely in young women. Aziz Ansaris accuser, Grace, and the narrator of Cat Person fall into this one. The latter might be fictional, but both accounts resonated widely with many young women. Both feature women in their early 20s, who found themselves in circumstances they didnt want, but felt unable to fully vocalise that they had reached their comfort limits.

Part of dating and sex as a young person is finding our boundaries, learning to protect them and develop the confidence to tell people who overstep, in no uncertain terms, where they can go. Not many people are born with this confidence, and it isnt something you can learn in a two-hour workshop on consent, but through making mistakes. Some of the situations that contribute to our experience may be unpleasant or regretful, but that doesnt necessarily mean that they should be grouped with assault, harassment or rape.

There has to be room for both men and women to make mistakes, to create a space where real dialogue can happen and where people can learn what is and isnt OK. Lumping all these grey-area stories in the wider #MeToo debate about rape, assault and the abuse of power only serves to drown out the voices of women whose stories should be focusing on this week, such as Simone Biles, and the countless other women who are bravely speaking out.

Iman Amrani is a Guardian multimedia journalist

Marie Le Conte: Men can no longer be seen as guided by their sweaty crotches

I had a conversation with an older feminist recently and she asked why women of my generation seem to hate men. We never stop criticising them, find endless examples of objectionable behaviour, and will gleefully turn on any man deemed not good enough by our precious standards.

She wasnt entirely wrong our expectations are undeniably higher than they used to be but my response was that it was, at least from my viewpoint, the exact opposite.

We expect more from men because we want to have more faith in them.

I refuse to see them as foolish animals, clumsy and to be pitied because life isnt easy when one simply cannot understand the complex and confusing women around them, choosing instead to be guided by their sweaty crotches.

This is why some of the responses to the claims about Aziz Ansari felt puzzling sure, we could have an argument about why the woman didnt leave, but why not talk about why he felt the need to keep trying it on?

Why can so many men feel so comfortable trying to sleep with women who dont want to sleep with them? Why do so many men think they can plunge their tongue down a womans throat before making sure its wanted?

Incidents which to some feel too small to be scandalous actually reveal the way men see women, and if they have no trouble crossing womens boundaries once or twice, where will they stop?

Weve been raised to see men as the superior intellectual gender, so spare me the idea that they just dont know what theyre doing.

If women can go through life without lunging at men, groping them, and treating their bodies as property, then surely we can expect men to do the same in return.

Marie Le Conte is a French freelance journalist living in London

Rachel Shabi: Older women wondering why millennials dont walk away have forgotten dark times

These stories have forced light into another area where it is sorely lacking: the stark lack of parity over sexual agency, expectation and desire. Its there in harsh, excruciating detail: the distorting and damaging ways in which heterosexual men and women are socialised about sex.

This isnt about a generational divide, despite some of the responses to such stories. Doubtless this terrain is thornier for younger women who, on top of the usual biases, are also navigating complications imposed by a certain kind of porn culture, and the image- and confidence-twisting burdens of social media.

But maybe the older women wondering why millennials dont just walk away from horrible sexual encounters have forgotten the times when they also stayed, rather than dealing with the awkwardness, risk his angry response, or navigating the paralysing weight of confusing expectation. Because women are socialised to be polite and accommodating, and are under constant pressure to be passive pleasers in every way, to the extent that our own desires and ambitions are routinely subjugated.

Such is the pervasive social messaging around gender and sexuality, such are the ever-present biases, that a woman asserting her own will or expressing a preference risks being labelled as unpleasant, unattractive or aggressive as it is in the boardroom, so it is in the bedroom. And thats before we even get to the men in the equation, with all their socially conditioned expectations, damaging biases and toxic assumptions.

Its messy and awkward and all tangled up, but if this #Metoo discussion is bringing us on to the question of what genuine equality in sex and relationships might look like, then good. In that spirit as with all parts of this debate we could do with less judgment and a lot more listening.

Rachel Shabi is a freelance writer and commentator

Ash Sarkar: A divergence in perception between men and women must be addressed

Theres a truth to the Aziz Ansari story which extends beyond whether or not he behaved in the manner alleged; that all too many of us have had sexual encounters in which one persons comfort is subordinated to the urgency of anothers desire.

Traditional feminist discourse from Susan Brownmillers Against Our Will to more recent discussions prompted by the Harvey Weinstein revelations has focused on a figure of the rapist as monstrous and malevolent. However, nearly one in three women have experienced sexual violence at the hands of an intimate partner the archetypical perpetrator looks less like a grotesque outsider, and more like a familiar neighbour. We hold him in affection and esteem. We trust him. We might even desire him.

Whatever we wear, wherever we go yes means yes, and no means no! The old Reclaim the Night slogan misled a generation of feminists into understanding consent as binary, and violation as self-evident. Were supposed to announce our consent (or lack thereof) like were entering a plea at trial.

But yes, in a context of mutual respect, might be a joyful wordlessness; no might come in the guise of not now, maybe later, or even well, OK then. In a society where sex is often seen as something to be extracted from partners like a mineral or an ore, a soft no is just so much social sediment to be worn away.

A rigidly legalistic model for understanding consent doesnt encourage men to shift the parameters of how they understand sex. The Ansari allegations show us that the task isnt to get men to see themselves as rapists, but to see their partners pace of desire as being of equal primacy to their own. There is no god-given right to orgasm: even a one-night stand requires patience, empathy and a capacity to interpret more complex cues than what is accepted in a court of law.

For what its worth, I believe Grace in her account of events. I also believe Ansari when he says: It was true that everything did seem OK to me, so when I heard that it was not the case for her, I was surprised and concerned. Its precisely this divergence of perception which men need to address. That starts with viewing consent as the beginning of a social process not a verdict at the end of a long process of litigation.

Ash Sarkar is a senior editor at Novara Media, and lectures in political theory at Anglia Ruskin and the Sandberg Instituut

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