#never amended that so why should he Assume they Would amend it / that they feel differently now

[hannieehaee]

them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2 - hhu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, conflict resolution, direct continuation to this, fluff, happy ending, etc.

part 1

wc: 3889

a/n: literally so many ppl requested thisjhdf im glad u guys liked it!! im working on vu and pu versions for this rn btw <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

seungcheol sat there for a minute or so, simply pondering at what had just happened. it was 100% his fault, that was something he was very well aware of. he knew that it had simply slipped his mind, but that did not wipe away the hurt he saw in your eyes upon entering your shared apartment. knowing that you had been waiting for him all day made him feel like an asshole. he couldn't believe that he had forgotten about your birthday even upon coming home at midnight the night prior. he felt like such a hypocrite, always whining at people to give him royalty treatment on his birthday but absolutely ignoring you during yours. you, his most favorite person.

he felt hurt that you had decided to spend the night with some friends, instead of in the arms of your boyfriend, but he understood. this was what he deserved. god knew that he wouldve pulled out all the dramatics if you had done the same to him, which was why he was now at a standstill, not knowing what he should do. he wanted to see you so badly, get on his knees and apologize, letting you know over and over again that you were the most vital person in his life and that forgetting you was something that not even he could forgive himself for.

now, he could've sat there and lamented himself over his stupid mistake, or he could run after you before you made it out of the building. he did not want you going to bed angry, or much worse, sad, so he picked the latter and got off his ass to chase after you, not caring about his current exhaustion as he took the stairs rather than the elevator in order to be able to catch up to you before you made it to your car.

luckily for him, he was able to catch you just as you stepped out of the elevator (having ran down five flights of stairs and almost injuring himself in the process), completely unsuspecting to his sudden ambush. he hadn't noticed until now, but you had dressed up, clearly ready to go clubbing or partying with your friends. he felt bad to get in the way of your plans. no, he felt horrible to accidentally ditch you and then ruin your plans. but he needed to at least try and make amends. he knew that if this were him, he'd want you to try and make it up to him.

you jumped back a bit at seungcheol's sudden apparition as you rounded the corner upon exiting the elevator, seemingly not having expected him to come after you.

"cheol, what are you doing?", you didn't seem mad, but your tone let him know you were clearly not content with him.

okay, he didn't think as far as this. his main goal was just to convince you to stay, then he would come up with a way to make it up to you.

"baby, i ... i'm so sorry. i know how hypocritical this is coming from me. i never meant to forget, you know that! there's nothing i can do to make up for having forgotten about you today, but please, please let me try."

"cheol .. i don't know," you paused, "last year when i texted you at 12:03 you complained about it for over an hour. you're the one always making a big deal about this. i assumed you'd care when the shoe was on your foot, but apparently not."

"i do! i do care. baby, please. let me take you out. ditch your friends. i'll take you somewhere. anywhere. i'll even take you out tomorrow too! i'll take the day off. how does that sound?"

"you cant take the day off, cheol. you're an idol-"

"i dont care! they can come and try to drag me away from you if they want. i want to be with you. please let me. please don't leave. cant stand the thought of you going to sleep alone after what i did."

you chuckled at the first half of his statement, feeling touched at the second part of it.

"are you sure?"

he scoffed, deciding to go on a leap and hold onto your hands, pulling you closer to him, "yes! there's nothing i wanted to do more today than be with you! it mightve slipped my mind that today was the day, but i had a beautiful day for us planned, baby. will you let me show you? please?"

cheol knew it was hard for you to say no to him, specially when he whined and pouted at you, giving you his best performance in order for you to understand how badly he felt. it didn't take much more for you to break, finally letting a smile graced your face as you squeezed his hands in yours.

"you better make this worth my while, choi seungcheol," god, he hated when anyone called him that, but you were the exception.

"always."

wonwoo -

wonwoo was astonished at himself, for lack of a better word. he had never been more disappointed in himself than in this moment. sure, he didn't take birthdays too seriously, and he knew you didn't either, but you always made him feel so special on his day he had only wanted to do the same. he was a lowkey guy, so his ways of showing love sometimes went unnoticed by most people, except for you. you accepted the subtlety of his love, loving him all the more for it. he felt terrible that today he showed you the exact opposite of what he had planned. he had taken weeks to perfect the dinner he had wanted to make for you, having prepared a romantic night for the two of you. all he wanted was to make you feel loved as he held you through the night, but his plan had stupidly slipped his mind.

what kind of asshole ditches their significant other on their birthday? for a stupid video game out of all things? as soon as wonwoo communicated what you had texted him to mingyu, his roommate couldn't help but scold him, telling him this was very uncharacteristic of him. which it was. everyone knew wonwoo to be a very sensible guy. it was very rare for anyone to have their feelings hurt by wonwoo. the guy was just simply too emotionally intelligent to ever be perceived as a hurtful individual. except now he had shown a careless part of himself that rarely ever faced the surface.

he was unsure of what to do. it was clear by your messages that you did not want to see him. you quite literally had asked him to not come. your texts to him were always filled with love, somehow being able to have your affections to him transcend even through text. but these were cold, and with good reason. still, wonwoo did not want to give up. the only thing that would be worse than ditching you on your birthday would be to stay where he was, knowing you were not only upset but also hurt by his actions. or rather, lack there of.

so, wonwoo was now on his way to you. well, to your apartment. you had mentioned in your messages that you would be out with friends due to his absence. it killed him that you had chosen to be with your friends over him, but he was fully aware that he only had himself to blame for that. he was glad you at least had someone to be with while his forgetfulness kept him away from you.

he had a key to your apartment, often heading over to fall asleep in your arms after a grueling day of being an idol. upon arriving there, he knew you'd be gone, so he allowed himself in, hauling in all the ingredients he had packed with him in order to make you the dinner he had been planning all these weeks. he was unsure of when you'd arrive back home, so he needed to hurry just in case. there was also a chance you'd come back in the early hours of the morning, knowing you would sometimes stay out with your friends til 1 or 2 in the am. having practiced this dinner multiple times, wonwoo was able to have it all done by 10, hoping that you'd arrive soon so the dinner wouldn't go to waste. he took care of the ambience, lighting candles and even moving furniture aside to make space for his set up. all he had to do now was wait for your arrival.

it had taken you around two hours to arrive. wonwoo had simply sat there waiting for you, not wanting to contact you as to not disturb you. okay, maybe he had maniacally texted you back earlier, apologizing for his mistake over and over, but had received no response, so he had decided it'd be best to just wait for you to arrive on your own. and now you were here, crossing the door to your apartment.

you stopped upon spotting him, widening your eyes before taking note of the dinner table behind him, "wonwoo? what are you doing here?"

he smiled sadly at you, slightly unsure of what to say, "i cooked for you," he paused, continuing upon seeing your confusion, "im so sorry. time got the best of me. i cant believe it slipped my mind. i knew it was today, but i got too distracted. i never wanted to make you feel like i didnt care. i do. so much."

you stood there without saying anything, still carrying a slightly shocked expression on your face. so he continued.

"baby ... please, have a meal with me. i prepared all this for you. this is what i had planned for today, if only i hadnt forgotten. let me make it up to you, please. i already called off tomorrow. i had a whole day planned for us, but i'll do whatever you want. if you want me to leave, i will. just, please. i need you to know how much i care. i love you, you're everything."

you continued to stare at him for a bit, a soft smile slowly breaking into your features before responding.

"nonu .. you didn't have to do all this. i'm sorry if i made you worry. this is ... it's such a sweet gesture. of course i want you to stay. all i wanted all day was to be with you," it melted his heart that you had wanted him all day, but were separated by none other than himself.

he pulled you into his arms halfway through your response, humming as he felt you hug him back. nothing felt as nice as your touch against his.

"im so sorry, beautiful. this will never happen again, i promise."

"i love you, wonwoo. thank you."

"happy birthday."

mingyu -

mingyu had never hauled ass quicker than at that moment, not even bothering to say goodbye to his roommate before grabbing a jacket and sprinting out of the door.

he couldn't believe his behavior towards you. you had always been a top priority to him, and to now realize he had forgotten your birthday gutted him tremendously. but what got to him even more was the knowledge that you had probably been waiting all day for him, having agreed beforehand that he would make space for you on your special day even through his packed comeback schedule. the sole thought that you, the bestest person he had ever met, had sat alone waiting for him all day, made him feel like the worst boyfriend. so now he was quite literally running in order to get to you.

the dryness of your voice during that call should've been the first hint that something was wrong, but what really made the alarms go off in his head was your lack of response when he said 'i love you' to you. mingyu knew it was dumb to care so much about it, but he thrived off words of affirmation, so your lack of response made him immediately assume something was wrong. you had never not reciprocated his words of affection, much less hung up on him. the moment he expressed his concerns to wonwoo, he was reminded by his roommate that 'oh wait, isn't it their birthday this week?' suddenly his mind started spiraling, now remembering that he had forgotten his boyfriend duties on the most important day.

it didn't take him too long to get to your apartment. okay, he didn't actually run there, he was just being a tad bit dramatic. but dramatics were necessary in this situation, which is why the moment you begrudgingly opened the door after his incessant knocks, allowing him inside, he immediately dropped to his knees, looking up at you as he rambled apologies at you.

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry. god, i don't know how i forgot. i swear the day just slipped my mind. i had plans ready, i swear! i've just been so busy with the comeback- not that that's an excuse! you have every reason to be mad at me. it won't happen again, i promise, i-" mingyu wasn't sure when exactly he was going to stop listing off constant apologies to you. he wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying at this point, just repeating himself over and over again, letting it slip past him that you were now standing above him, holding in your amusement at the state of the pleading man before you.

"mingyu, please get up."

like an obedient boy, he got up, now towering over you as he usually did. he immediately held onto your hands, bringing them up to his chest as he continued his apologies.

"you have every right to be mad at me. i neglected you and forgot about you when i shouldn't have. i didn't even wanna come home to wonwoo tonight! i wanted to come to you! but we have a schedule early tomorrow morning, so it was just easier. but i'll cancel! i'll stay here with you! i wanna make it up to you-"

"mingyu, shut up!"

that was enough for him to slam his mouth shut immediately, looking at you as he waited for your next command words.

"mingyu, listen. i understand. i was hurt you forgot, but i understand you're really busy right now, okay? i'm not angry at you. you don't have to cancel your schedule either. i don't want to get in the way of-"

"i'll do it! you're my top priority, baby. you know that."

"i still don't want you to cancel, gyu. it's fine. i'm not angry. i appreciate your apology. just wanted to be with you today .. i'm sorry if i made you worry," you looked down, almost as if embarrassed by having felt hurt by his actions. this made mingyu melt with guilt.

"no, baby. fuck. how can i make this up to you? can i stay here tonight? hmm? i'll cook you dinner and wake you up with breakfast. i'll even cut my schedule short for tomorrow so i can be back home with you earlier. how's that sound?"

"sounds perfect mingyu, thank you," he took this as confirmation to finally hold you in his arms, swaying you back and forth as he hummed the birthday song lightly against your ear, causing you to giggle against him.

vernon -

everyone was aware that vernon could sometimes be a little too chill for his own good. he didn't make too big of a deal about most things, simply going with the flow and allowing things to evolve on their own. except that could not be done in this situation. right now, he needed to make a choice. give you your space, or run home to you, tail between his legs as he apologized for ever having forgotten about you. the last thing vernon would ever want was for you to not feel the immense amount of love he's always had for you. he knew he could be bad at showing it sometimes, but you were the absolute love of his life, which made him feel devastated over and over again as he kept rereading your texts.

'maybe you should stay at the dorms tonight. not really in the mood for you to spend the night. im sorry. love you.' that was what you had last sent to him exactly thirty-eight minutes ago. how could he just sit with that for the rest of the night? specially when all he wanted to do was be with you and hold you and kiss you and show you how incredibly obsessed with you he was. he was never good with dates, but he had always gotten any and all dates pertaining to you right thus far. he even had a gift for you he had purchased a few months back, but he had stupidly forgotten the day he had been preparing for was this week. this mistake was an outlier, truly, but it hurt you nonetheless, which was all vernon cared about at the moment. he couldn't believe you'd been having to hint at your birthday while your boyfriend remained clueless. you must've felt so dejected. he winced at the thought.

however, right now was not a time for lamentations. even if you kicked him out and told him to get fucked, vernon had to at least try to come home to you now. he quickly went over the situation with his members, explaining that he had been a total douchebag and neglected you. that earned him scoldings from all members present, calling him all types of names and demanding he head over to your apartment right this instant to beg for forgiveness and hope you wouldn't just send him right back.

so now he was on his way to you, despite you having instructed him to stay away. he wanted to respect your wishes, but he couldn't go to sleep tonight knowing your heart was still hurt because of him. he needed to at least see you and have you know that he was willing to try and mend things. vernon wasn't one for public displays, nor was he one for dramatics, but he was willing to pull all stops for you if it meant you'd forgive him. which was why he was currently running through the hybe hallways as he called up his driver to be ready to take him to your apartment as soon as he reached the parking lot.

he had had time to think over a game plan on the way over, except nothing came to mind. the two of you had never fought before. sure, there had been a few minuscule spats here and there, but he had never seen you angry at him before; he'd never given any reason to be until now. he didn't want to freak out over this, but knew how hurtful it must've been for you to feel so neglected by the person who's supposed to love you most, so he felt a pit in his stomach with the worry that maybe this would be enough for you to finally snap at his forgetful tendencies and end it. he didn't have much time to think about this, however, as he now stood in front of your apartment door, fearful of knocking on it.

the decision to open the door was made for him, as you incidentally opened it yourself, yelping at his apparition on the other side of it.

"vernon? what are you doing here?", you didn't seem angry. you seemed more confused at his presence. that was good.

"i- uh ... i'm sorry."

okay, kind of a bad start.

"vernon. i told you not to come over tonight. i'm sorry, i'm not really in the mood to see you right now," even though you didn't appear angry, your eyes wouldn't meet his, making him deflate a bit.

"are you mad at me? i'm so sorry. i didnt mean to forget, i swear," vernon knew there wasn't much he could say past that, but he wanted you to at least know he regretted his neglect.

"i'm not angry, vernon. i'm just a little ... sad. i tried to be subtle about it. i mean, i dont even care for my birthday that much, but i hoped my boyfriend would at least remember it."

"baby, god. i am so fucking sorry. i never meant to make you feel like i didn't care. it just slipped my mind. i know it's not a valid excuse, but i need you to know that it doesnt mean anything. i'm just a fucking idiot. i'm sorry."

he was rambling now. somehow you being hurt by him trumped the chance of you being mad.

"vernon, it's fine. i dont want you beating yourself up about it. i'll get over it. i just need space tonight. i was about to go meet with a friend before you got here," you seemed like you just wanted to get out of the situation, clearly feeling awkward at even expressing your disappointment at him. it made vernon feel like even more of an asshole.

"no! be mad! you shouldn't get over it. i should be making it up to you. stay. please. i'll do anything you want. i'll take tomorrow off. we can do something together. anything you want. i have a gift for you and everything! i got it while in japan, the date just slipped my mind, i swear. please stay. i don't want to leave you alone if i made you sad. please."

"vernon ..."

"please. i don't want to force you. if you want to leave, i'll accept it, but let me make it up to you. i dont want you to feel like i dont care. i do. i know i dont express it much, that's on me. i'll make it known. i'll show you. i don't want to hurt you again, i-"

he was unable to finish his sentence, now stumbling back due to a sudden weight against him. you, with your arms now wrapped around him as your face nuzzled his neck. he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you in as he lowered his head to breathe you in, humming as he felt the relief of having you in his hold.

you pulled away too quickly for his liking, eyes slightly glossy but not enough to consider it worrisome, "i forgive you. i'm sorry, i didn't mean to exaggerate. i did feel neglected, but-"

"but nothing. don't apologize, please. this won't happen again, okay? i love you."

"i love you too," you smiled at him before pausing, "i .. do you wanna come in?", you seemed a bit sheepish, probably feeling awkward at hearing vernon ramble apologies at you for the past five minutes, showing way more emotion than he usually did.

"come in? oh, you're not leaving? wait, don't answer that. yes," he held onto your hand before you could say anything, pulling you in for a quick kiss before leading you into your apartment, all under the promise to make up for his previous carelessness and never make you doubt his affections for you ever again.

[ilyrafe]

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅'𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: ex-boyfriend!rafe cameron x ex-girlfriend!reader

warnings: angst

word count: 1k

“hi, rafe.”

just your voice is enough to decentralize him entirely. he didn’t expect to see you at sarah’s party, only because he didn’t know you were back to kildare.

you look beautiful as always. your hair is shorter, but that’s the only thing that has changed about you, at least, it’s what he can assume. the flower crown you’re wearing adorns your sage green dress beautifully.

“hi.” he takes a sip of his mock tail, trying to pretend he’s cool with you there, as if he knew.

“how have you been?”

“good.”

you know rafe too well. his short answers tell you he’s not at all amused by your presence, and that breaks your heart even more. he looks so handsome with a buzzcut, and it’s like he knows it.

“i guess you didn’t know i was coming.” you chuckle quite awkwardly. “sarah convinced me to come, she said it wouldn’t be an issue, but... if you want me to leave, i will.”

“i really don’t care what you do, y/n.”

you sigh, defeated. he’ll never forgive you for what you said. you thought that maybe he would have changed, or at least, understood your point, but you see that he hasn’t done either.

“okay, um... i’ll see you around, rafe.”

he watches you leave, and you’re not even pretending to be happy. he ruined your mood and he knows it. rafe sees sarah comforting you, and she shoots him a glare, making him roll his eyes and leave his spot at the bar.

he should probably leave, too.

when he turns his back and makes his way inside tanney hill, he doesn’t look back. he goes straight to his bedroom and plops down on his king sized bed. the music is muffled, thank god.

he’s been trying to make amends with sarah, even letting her come back home and be with john b in peace. sure, he doesn’t get along with the pogues, but if accepting them is what it takes for him to have the smallest sense of peace, he’ll do it.

rafe has also decided to get sober. after almost dying of an overdose, he was really scared and decided to quit. he wants to make ward proud. staying away from alcohol is a lot harder than quitting coke and marijuana, it turns out. the mock tails aren’t as enjoyable.

as if doing all that isn’t hard enough, you’re back. and with you being back, all of the feelings he’s successfully repressed are coming back up again, stronger than ever.

he hates that he’s given you this amount of power over him.

rafe never did feelings before, and the one time he did, you left him because of himself. rafe is his worst enemy.

he really loved you. well, scratch that. he never stopped loving you. you took care of him, you improved his relationship with ward and sarah. you asked him to quit drugs and selling it. you listened to him and you took none of his bullshit. you held him accountable while giving him grace.

deep down, he knows he fucked up. he wasn’t ready to grow up, but no one likes to say they’re wrong, do they?

“i just think it’s funny how you really believe this little island is an entire world for you.” you snorted. “but i know why you don’t wanna leave this shit hole. you’re a nobody outside the outer banks. there is no “kook versus pogue” once you step out of this place. you’re just another trust fund baby with drug issues to everyone else, rafe.”

he never understood your incessant need to “explore the world”, it’s so childish. you always talked about how you wanted to live in paris, toronto, tokyo, london, seoul, or berlin or whatever (honestly, you have mentioned so many cities, he has lost count), and you always said that you would be happy anywhere else, but rafe doesn’t see himself being happy far from north carolina. from kildare. from tanney hill. it’s where he comes from and where he wants to die. it’s what he knows.

a knock on his bedroom door interrupts his thoughts. rafe huffs and rolls his eyes. when he opens the door, he comes across you.

“what do you want?” he questions, irritated.

you enter his room and close the door behind you, drowning out the noise of the music once again. you’ve missed his bedroom. his bed.

“i think... i think i owe you an apology,” you say. “i shouldn’t have been so mean to you that day, it wasn’t right.”

rafe remains quiet, sitting on his bed, just listening to you talk.

“i just… i never liked it here, and i end up projecting that onto others, and i did that to you. i’m sorry.”

in theory, hearing you apologize should be gratifying, but rafe can’t identify any sign of regret in you. it’s not that he doesn’t think your apology is insincere, it’s that the regret he wanted to see doesn’t exist. you don’t regret leaving kildare nor leaving him.

“apology accepted.”

“thank you.” you smile.

“y/n, are you happy?” he asks.

“hm?”

“are you happy there?”

your smile and small nod tells everything he didn’t want to know. you are happy. in fact, you’re happier than ever.

“i am.”

rafe has vivid memories with you, and your smile has never been so wide, your eyes have never been so bright. maybe this will take him to hell, but he hates that you’re genuinely happy away from there, especially because he isn’t happy. and if he is not happy in where he feels he belongs most, there is no place in the world that makes him happy. 

maybe happiness isn’t an option for him, and the most upsetting thing about this is that money really can’t buy happiness. not the one rafe really needs anyways.

you want to tell rafe how you’re enjoying life for the first time, how being independent is amazing, but also sucks, but it’s still amazing, how the feeling of achieving something on merit is indescribable... but rafe would never understand.

it’s funny how two people who are so similar at first are so different in the end.

“that’s all that matters to me, then.”

i love feedback! let me know your thoughts! <3

[wanderingsoul6261]

I'm Sorry

credit for gif goes to userbeaufort

James Beaufort x Reader

synopsis: Y/N doesn't come from a rich family, but is close friends with Lydia, but absolutely despises James. She eventually comes to terms with her thoughts and makes amends with James. Was it worth it in the end though?

warning: just a few swear words.

should there be a part 2 to this?

Y/N wasn’t quite sure how she had come to hate James. She just knew that she did, regardless if he was Lydia’s twin brother or not. Maybe it was his arrogance, although it didn’t make much sense to her after some thinking, as most of the students at Maxton were of the arrogant type. She had previously thought about hating him for who his father is, but she also knew how their father treated them and knew that it probably was not a reason to judge or even hate James for. In the end, she had just thought him to be an asshole, and figured that that was enough reason not to like him, because he was an asshole. 

With this in mind, Y/N never treated him fairly, but to be fair, he never did the same for her either, as he hated her just as much as she had hated him. The two were never particularly nasty to each other, but they definitely weren’t nice to each other. 

If they ran into each other in the hallways of Maxton Hall, they scowled at each other, sometimes even flipping each other the finger. They would have small arguments here and there, mostly about what they thought of each other, or what they had assumed that they thought of each other. The two of them believed what they wanted to when it came to the other person, only because they wanted to fuel their hatred for the other. 

Lydia had kind of almost found it funny and amusing. She knew that the two of them technically had no reason to hate each other, but still did. Maybe they didn’t like sharing her. Lydia had always snorted when that thought appeared in her mind, but she thought that that wasn’t quite it. In the end, Lydia herself couldn’t come up with a logical reason that they couldn’t as to why they hated each other. 

They hated each other with no rhyme or reason and that was that. 

However, it was only a matter of time before Y/N started to rescind her hatred for James. After spending so much time with Lydia, Y/N had gotten the chance to know about James and why he was the way that he was. Lydia told her stories about what they would do as kids, and how over the years, the two had managed to stick up for each other. It didn’t matter the situation. Whether it was familial ties or Lydia’s situation with Sutton. The Beaufort twins had each other's back. 

Y/N had paid some mind to the stories, but it wasn;t until she started to experience the softer side of James that she finally agreed with Lydia that maybe James wasn’t all that bad. 

Y/N had visited the Beaufort manor enough to see Lydia to begin to see what she was talking about. Unless Mortimer was around, James had pretty much become his own self. At Maxton he worked to uphold his image and keep it. At home, he could relax. Y/N watched the interactions between the two twins and enjoyed seeing them in their best moments. Although they didn’t laugh much, short chuckles were heard and smiles were given. 

Just once, She could have sworn that as James smiled at some boring joke his sister made over dinner, his eyes glanced over at her. Maybe she had just imagined it, but what she didn’t imagine was the flutter in her stomach at the thought of it. 

From there on, her feelings and thoughts towards James had slowly begun to change, which had brought her to where she is now. 

She was now striding across the lacrosse field towards James, where he currently did sit ups. Y/N picked at her fingernails, slightly nervous, her eyes glancing at him. He had yet to notice that she was advancing on him. His eyes were trained on either the sky or the ground, depending on what position he was in during his set of sit ups. 

Then he stopped, sat up, and turned to look at her. He rested his forearms on his knees. 

“And for what misfortune can I thank for this visit?” he asked, blinking a few times. James gave her a not so pleasant look. Y/N was silent for a few seconds. Her eyes fluttered as she stared down at the ground. 

“I’ve come to apologize.” Y/N stared back up at him. James stood up and turned to fully face her. He showed a slight surprised look on his face. “You know…” She trailed off. He raised an eyebrow, but he had patiently waited for her to speak. “I’ve never really had a specific reason to hate you. And I want to apologize for treating you in the way that I have been, because it’s technically not warranted.” 

“I thought you hated me?” 

“I don’t hate you.” Y/N finally admitted. The two seemed to freeze at that moment. It was almost as if she surprised herself by saying it and that he was surprised that she had said it at all. Then he pouted. 

“So no more flipping each other the bird?” He pretended to be sad, and Y/N had smiled. 

“I mean, if you are used to the routine of it, I’ll do it still. But it won’t hold any meaning to it other than to make you happy.” 

“You, making the attempt to keep me happy? I’m flattered.” James flashed her a smile as she started to back away. 

“Flattery. Boosting your ego. Call it whatever you like.” Y/N took a few steps back, knowing she should probably be heading home, a small smile still adorned her face. The two were silent for several seconds. “Are we good?” She asked. The corner of James’ mouth quirked up. 

“Yea.” He said, quietly. “We’re good.” Y/N’s smile grew a tad bigger, before turning around and starting to walk away. “Oh, and Y/N?” She paused momentarily, turning to look back at him. 

“It’s only my ego you can boost.” He winked, and Y/N flipped him the bird, resulting a smile from the both of them and she put more distance between the two of them. 

—-

Over the next few weeks, the two seemed to grow closer and closer, however, being Lydia’s friend and not exactly coming from a rich family, Y/N tried to keep it hidden. It was hard too, considering everyone went to school together, but they had made it work for the most part. However, Y/N still felt that it was unfair to Lydia, considering that she was her friend. 

Of course, her and James never confirmed anything, but if there was a possibility, she would hate for it to happen under Lydia’s nose. If anything happened between her and James, it could be detrimental to their friendship. 

But now here were Y/N and James. He had bailed on attending the event for the Young Beaufort line and had instead switched places with his sister. He met up with Y/N at the donor gala, where they had danced, before ending up underneath the hall in which the gala was taking place. 

They had turned on the power, but even after it was back on, the two remained downstairs. They stared silently at each other, tension, albeit the good kind, filled the room. It was only seconds before the two pushed themselves against the other, locking themselves into a sensual kiss. James took a few steps forward as he kissed her, physically feeling Y/N melt against him as his hands rested on her waist while hers sat in his hair. 

When he had pushed her up against the wall, one of his hands rested on the wall next to her and the other tangled itself in her hair. 

Then Y/N felt the guilt. Lydia wasn’t even here. She wouldn’t find out, but she didn’t even know about the two of them and what they were doing. Y/N couldn’t do this. Not too Lydia. This wasn’t fair for her. 

Y/N pushed James off of her, guilt written across her face. He stared at her, confused. Did he go too far? Was she okay? He went to open his mouth, but she had stopped him. 

“I- I’m.” She paused for a few seconds, swallowing thickly as she looked everywhere but his eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

And then she was gone, racing up the stairs and out of Maxton Hall, leaving James to wonder what the fuck had exactly just happened. 

taglist: @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

[thewertsearch]

ERIDAN: for all that trainin you did ERIDAN: i wwouldnt be the incredible holy wwizard i am noww wwithout your help […] KANAYA: I Hope You Use Your Magnificent Powers Of Light And Hope For Goodness And Purity And Lets Not Forget Science

At this point. Kanaya is Human Sarcasming better than most actual humans.

ERIDAN: dont wworry im all ovver that shit you dont evven knoww KANAYA: Uh Oh I Hope That Didnt Come Off As Too Sarcastic […] KANAYA: Please Dont Take Too Much Offense ERIDAN: haha damn kan if thats your idea of offense bein made then i honestly gotta fuckin wworry for you ERIDAN: tell you wwhat ill givve you some lessons in dealin out the dark umbrage to repay you for your tutelage in the wwhite science

I think Dave taught Kanaya more about the art of trolling in a single conversation than Eridan could in an entire lifetime.

That guy can troll better than most actual trolls.

ERIDAN: wwhats that thing there KANAYA: The Matriorb KANAYA: I Was About To Go Hatch It In The Core To Restore Our Race ERIDAN: that sounds ERIDAN: hopeful […] ERIDAN: if theres goin to be any sort a hope for our race as the prince of hope i demand to be invvolvved ERIDAN: so dont go anywwhere wwithout me got it […] KANAYA: Fine

I’m all for the construction of neo-Alternia, but I really don't think Eridan should be on the planning committee, unless we also want a neo-hemospectrum.

Honestly, the only trolls I'd really trust to rebuild their society are the bottom half of the hemospectrum, and possibly Gamzee. The other highbloods can go sit in the corner.

ERIDAN: its not magic wwe talked about this kar KARKAT: RIGHT, IT'S POWERED BY SCIENCE, I FORGOT. KARKAT: OR HOPE. WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS

I don’t see how Hope translates to a robot-exploding beam, though.

If it was wizards he was blowing up, I’d understand, because it would be consistent with my theory that he's weaponizing his hatred of FRAUDULENT MAGIC. If anything, his Science Wand should strengthen a robot, since it's a product of the TRUEST SCIENCES.

ERIDAN: i had a harder time than anybody wwith this game ERIDAN: it wwas really fuckin unfair wwhat challenges i got saddled wwith ERIDAN: i wwoulda fuckin MURDERED for a land full of a lot a harmless brains and fire ERIDAN: but no ERIDAN: it wwas so lonely ERIDAN: hey guys anybody wwant to come hang out wwith me in the land a wwrath and angels

That sounds cool, though. Angels, I assume, are how Hope is represented in his Land, and I’m sure Eridan synergized well with its wrath. I wonder what physical form it took?

ERIDAN: anybody at all i knoww it isnt anythin like one of your flippin land picnics ERIDAN: anybody please ill evven settle for the kittycat shipper cavve girl

You can't complain about loneliness and then insult your ‘friend’ in the same breath. That's not how any of this works, and the fact that you're unaware of this should tell you everything you need to know about why you're lonely.

So Karkat does know about Nepeta’s little crush. He is a relationship aficionado, after all.

Poor Nepeta.

I sort of figured Karkat didn't reciprocate her feelings. He's preoccupied with plenty of other redrom prospects, and he basically never mentions her.

Karkat’s honestly a little too nice to Eridan. He’s being such a bro here, but what Eridan actually needs is to be brought down to size a little.

Granted, I think Eridan needs a bigger shock to the system than an angry tirade from Karkat. I feel like Terezi could tear him to pieces - but since it's unfair to expect her to put up with him alone, I'd put both the Scourge Sisters on this assignment. >:)

What Karkat is aptly demonstrating here is that there’s a difference between an Eridan kind of asshole and a Karkat kind of asshole.

Let's be real, here - Karkat's a dick. But he's a dick who holds no true malice, knows when he's crossed a line, and is willing to sincerely apologize for his past actions, and make amends.

Eridan possesses none of these qualities, which is why he sat alone in his house for a month while Karkat befriended the entire cast.

[heliads]

Heyy can I get Four x fem!reader, where four can see sher struggling and offers some private lessons, you can take it from there xo

as a fic writer, i love taking it from there (xo)

masterlist

Four is not particularly suited to kindness. He never has been. That’s part of why he never fit in with the other Abnegation, after all; his inability to carve away pieces of himself to give to others stuck out like a sore thumb. That, and the fact that he hated their two-faced duplicity with a passion so burning that it left him choking on the smoke. 

He’s always figured that even if he was Divergent, even if he contained multitudes of other factions within him, he never once showed a shred of Amity, either. Kindness, generosity, none of these have ever described Four. He certainly shouldn’t be wishing for it now. 

Yet, when he looks across the Dauntless training room, which is strewn with the fighting figures of initiation’s latest round of transfers, he doesn’t feel that usual call to apathy. Not now, at least. Four had supposed it would come later, when the initial interest of new faces had worn off and he was left with irritation prickling under his skin, that fidgety sort of feeling he gets when people refuse to do what’s good for them.

Four has never been the most patient, even if he is forced to play the long game of waiting and hiding due to his status as a Divergent. It makes him insufferable, or so he’s been told. Usually, Four just assumes he’s better off alone and not reaching out to anyone. Fewer secrets are shared when no one knows about them in the first place.

That doesn’t explain why he’s ignoring that favored precept of his in favor of staring at one of the initiates yet again. Four tells himself that he doesn’t do favorites, that he treats all of the trainees with the same blunt criticism and harsh words. It makes it easier that way. He once knew a few instructors who would place bets on their favorites, but they always ended up losing more than their money when their chosen trainees didn’t make the cut.

Dauntless may not be a place that encourages its pupils to choose safety over fun, but Four always betrayed that particular principle while leading initiation. He’s only been at it for a year or two, he can’t afford any screw ups now. That’s why he would do well to ignore that one initiate in the corner. It would be his best choice, but for some reason, it’s the one path he refuses to travel.

As if Four has ever been known for his rational thought. There’s a reason he’s not in Erudite, after all, why he scorned every faction one after another until he could only ever end up here in Dauntless. Dauntless, where at last he’s the one in power, where he’ll risk his life again and again because at least in this faction people wear their hatred firmly on their sleeves instead of hiding it behind some ambiguous political game.

Perhaps Four isn’t one for politicking, then, but that’s no surprise. He does what he pleases, he likes who he likes, and when Y/N L/N happens to glance up at him when she finishes a round in the fighting ring, she doesn’t look remotely shocked to see him looking at her again. No one is, but then again, no one notices Four’s attention except Y/N herself.

Y/N is a transfer. Y/N is an initiate. Y/N is the one person that Four really should be avoiding, but can’t seem to manage it. He doesn’t know what it is about her that keeps calling his interest back to her again and again like the snap of a hypnotist’s fingers, but his heart refuses to explain. His head has tried to make amends, but his heart keeps on traitorously beating, still seeking her out after every time Four promises himself he won’t trust that magnetic pull to her again.

She never follows up on his attention, which makes her better than him, at least. She knows the rules. She’s also a little bit afraid of him, Four thinks, which hurts him more than it should. Y/N seems to be frightened of nothing in this world but him, and that is why he can’t bear to look away. Should he glance over at her once and find her willing to stand near him, maybe he would be able to guide his breathing back to a normal state, his heartbeat to return to rest once more.

It has yet to happen, however, and Four thinks he knows why. See, he knows what he thinks when he encounters Y/N, the curious storm of emotions all centrally positive that linger around his heart, but she has absolutely no idea of that. She wouldn’t, because whenever Y/N looks at Four or any other Dauntless training instructor, she thinks not of them as people but as physical manifestations of her initiation rank. Her rank, which happens to be pretty damn close to failing.

In all his time in this world, all his experience with heroes and cowards, fighters and thinkers, Four has no idea why Y/N’s rank should be that low. He knows what his eyes see, of course; fights lost, punches not thrown, but it makes no sense to him. Four is accustomed to the dropouts of Dauntless initiation, the ones who would rather go live with the factionless than stick through training. They’re nothing like Y/N, not in the slightest.

Those kids, those unwanted former initiates, they’re afraid. All of them, they’re afraid. Terrified to throw a punch for fear of bruising their knuckles, hesitant to step in a ring lest they take more hits than they dole out. They lose before they even try, but that’s not Y/N.

Y/N is brave, like he said. Braver than Four, probably. He would love to see her fear landscape if she could manage to make it past the first round of initiation. It would probably be pretty close to empty, what from the way she stares down even the most dangerous threats without a blink of an eye. Four has a brief terror that he might open her fear landscape just for it to hold him and nothing else, but he forces that thought away just as quickly. He doesn’t know that. Nobody does.

Y/N is brave, and that’s what makes this so hard. If she had half the spirit that she does, if she flinched away from every blow like the others, Four could brush her off like the other trainees. She would blend into the crowds, and he would go throughout his life without this trial of conscience that he’s undergoing now.

That’s not the case, however. Instead, Four looks at her and he sees the strength of Dauntless, the bravery, the need to get ahead. Y/N should be at the top of the rankings, but she isn’t. Four has a theory for that, though. Despite the fact that Dauntless loves to pride itself as the equalizer, that its initiation lets anyone from any background succeed, that simply isn’t the case. At the end of the day, trainees with more experience will pick up skills far faster, and that means they’ll always win.

That’s why cruel Candor and Erudite manage to make the transition so well. Y/N lacks that experience, and so although she’s learning things at an excellent rate, she can’t beat the prior knowledge of the others. Four remembers one time in which she’s been struggling with knife throwing. He had given her one hint and just like that, she was hitting the bullseye every time.

If Four wants to keep Y/N around a while longer, that’s what it’s going to take. More of that advice, more of that help. Y/N has the ability to change this faction just like him. Four just has to make sure that she makes it through initiation long enough to make that work.

Four isn’t supposed to have favorites. He does, it’s her. That’s why, despite days of him telling himself that he won’t get involved, he finds himself making up his mind. Still facing torment in his own head, Four drops by the training room later that evening, hoping some time alone with a punching bag and his own bruised knuckles will clear up his mind.

When he opens the door and sees Y/N there still, practicing her hits, he knows then and there that he has no choice. Four walks briskly through the training hall until he’s by her side. He watches her form for a few moments more; she knows he’s there, he can tell by the stiffness of her shoulders, her guard is already up.

He speaks at last, words echoing around the spacious room. “Punch more from your own strength. You’re pushing the bag, you don’t want to do that. Snap your fist forward instead.”

Four demonstrates with one quick hit. Y/N nods, mirroring him. Four has to bite back a smile. The change is immediate. A voice in the back of his head tells him that if he just stayed a little longer, helped a little more, she’d become a better fighter overnight. It’s not hard to convince himself to linger by her side.

“Good,” he murmurs, “now, try hitting with more combinations. Four hits instead of two. You’ll disorient your opponent.”

Once again, Y/N does as he says, and once again, she does it perfectly. That’s another problem with initiation, Four thinks, it’s impossible to help every student as much as they need, what with the incoming class of transfers growing so rapidly every year.

Y/N practices a while longer, then relents, taking a step back and giving Four a quizzical look. “Why are you doing this? I mean, I appreciate the tips, but I don’t think you do this for every initiate.”

“I don’t,” Four confirms, “maybe I just want to see you win tomorrow. Is that such a surprise?”

Judging by the expression on her face, the answer would be yes. “Last time I checked, you were supposed to make sure everyone had an even playing field. I didn’t think private punching lessons were included in that.”

Four has to try his utmost to smother a laugh. “They’re not. Still, I wanted to.”

“You wanted to,” Y/N repeats contemplatively, “what, you got tired of seeing me get my ass kicked all the time? I know you watch my rounds more than the others, that must be it.”

Four swats her gently on the shoulder. He’s just as surprised about it as she is; nothing they’ve done has brought them close enough for soft friendship. Still, it feels right. Maybe that means something.

“Self-pity doesn’t treat you right,” he says, “I like it better when you’re walking around like you own the place. Sometimes I think you do.”

Y/N laughs. “And melodrama has never been your strong suit. I think I like it, though.”

Four likes it too. He raises a brow, inviting her sarcastic remarks once more. “Does that mean you’ll allow the lessons to continue? You won’t keep pushing me away with your own disbelief?”

“I’m still debating,” Y/N retorts, but she’s grinning and that makes it much better.

Four leaves the punching bag, not her; he walks to the ring instead. Climbing easily up, he extends an arm for Y/N to join him. She takes his hand without a second’s hesitation, and Four has to fight all parts of himself to hide the swarm of warmth that cloaks his insides when he realizes her fear of him is gone, if it was ever truly there at all. Perhaps he was just looking for excuses to stay away, knowing nothing would work for long.

Y/N puts up her fists, interrupting his musing. “So? Are we fighting or not?”

“Of course we are,” Four says, getting into his own opening stance.

After that, he loses himself in the even rhythm of punches and kicks, blows and strikes. Sometimes he calls out tips and tricks, other times he lets Y/N learn from what works well and what doesn’t. Even after the night ends, when their strength gives out and they both walk away with new bruises and old grins, Four knows one thing for certain:  this is not the end of Y/N’s time in Dauntless, nor her time with him. No, their story is just starting. It is one that he looks forward to with all his heart.

divergent tag list: @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @ilovexavierthrope

[gumi-writes]

a knife, bladeless

source: touchstarved

wc: ~1.4k

summary: there were two main rules when it came to dealing with monsters.

contains: vere-centric with some implied verexoc / canon-typical violence / kudos to my wife for the headcanon that if you spend enough time with vere he will at some point vibe check you by stabbing you / is it rude? absolutely. is it unfair? 100%. but that’s just monsters being monsters babey / this turned far into far more of a character study than i intended it to lol but i just love my bitch ass girlfriend so much <3 /

author’s note: if it were up to me vere would always be malding (affectionate)

It should have annoyed him. Or rather, he should have been more annoyed—enough to be spurned into action, or at the very least full of biting words as opposed to biting them back. Vere had certainly cut people off for far less, a nonzero sadistic streak enabling him to find a particular enjoyment in reminding others when they forgot their place. You could even accuse him of it being one of his hobbies and have that accusation be warranted.

So why was Tiên still slumbering peacefully in his bed?

These days, Vere finds himself watching her sleep.

Not, of course, in a manner most crass—contrary to popular opinion, Vere wasn’t as gutter-minded as many seemed to assume. Something which—while certainly a common misconception, was also one he never felt the need to correct. Why amend when he could weaponize instead?

If people were desperate enough to slip a honed blade into his deft hands, a hold so accustomed to the craft of using that it could be done with effortless ease—then why should he bother denying them?

After all, a show was a show, and Vere wasn’t in the habit of missing out on free entertainment. Not if they were offering themselves, and that was almost always what it was—fresh meat so eager for the taking that it gifted gleaming knife and bared neck alike.

The problem was though—

A steady heartbeat. Too steady, if you were to ask him. His senses were such that people could not hide from him, sharp enough to unearth the most buried of weak spots and expose the rawest of nerves—no matter how cleverly concealed it was.

—easy prey did not satiate him for very long.

It should have annoyed him. Or rather, he should have been more annoyed—enough to be spurned into action, or at the very least full of biting words as opposed to biting them back. Vere had certainly cut people off for far less, a nonzero sadistic streak enabling him to find a particular enjoyment in reminding others when they forgot their place. You could even accuse him of it being one of his hobbies and have that accusation be warranted.

So why was Tiên still slumbering peacefully in his bed?

Perhaps he’d be less vexed by it if it was a post sex occasion. If all the nights she’d decided to crash were post sex occasions. Because while Vere did not have a tendency of allowing people to stick around for that long in the aftermath, it would certainly make this all feel less… irritatingly saccharine.

But it wasn’t.

Eyes narrow. Fingers itch. It would have been a mistake to have called this allowance one of sentimentality—the vast coldness in his gaze revealed as much, completely devoid of anything fond. It would have been a mistake, but that it could have been made in the first place irked him. It was all so irksome.

The gall to not ask—to beg—for permission. The audacity of never reacting to anything normally. The absolute maddening cheek to somehow not be unbearable in spite of all the things he had to bear.

(‘Just kick them out,’ Ais had said, ever the poor sympathiser to his plight. Nothing short of absolutely shit for things like this, but he was one of the rare few that lasted long enough to hear Vere complain.)

Vere knew exactly how they’d react if he told them in no small words to beat it. The first thing was that they would indeed beat it—without any question. The second was that Tiên would not only not get embarrassed, but she’d likely never bring it up. Ever. And not just because the humiliation of retracing a misstep was one she wanted to avoid, but because it would have genuinely not mattered to her.

Which meant that without her to be the affected one, even his perfectly reasonable response would have felt an extremity—a loss of control where anything but a victory was unforgivable. Regardless of it being a matter of relativity.

He could have potentially justified it if she made for a poor bedfellow—a man of his luxuries and comforts that was exceedingly possessive of his own space, were Tiên to have been a poor sleeper, that would have been more than enough to make up for the previous, except…

Tiên does not move in her sleep. Her body temperature, the next thing that could have so easily been bothersome, also wasn’t, and in fact was something she could change on the fly, meaning that it was always infuriatingly perfect. His vanity, in one of the pettiest reasons of all, would surely have enabled him to call it quits if she was unsightly at rest—but he wasn’t granted that either.

And he’d tried to psyche her out. The last time she’d done this, Vere had taken a page out of her obnoxious novel and slept on top of her without asking. In what was a clear bid to make Tiên give him a single satisfying valid reason to get rid of her; were he to have awoken in the middle of the night that would have been it—

Instead, he’d woken up the next morning in what was evidently uninterrupted slumber.

Even now, the thought of it was a trying one. His only explanation was that it had to have been a miraculous fluke, but even that feels wanting when he was bereft of what felt a surefire win. To meet with such impossible standards, including a zero tolerance for his own discomfort even at the cost of—or especially because of—another’s… and to still surpass them…

Well, that didn’t sit right with him at all.

In the dusk of rose, barely blinking—a frigid chill grows all the more biting. What might’ve seemed a petulance ultimately boiled down to an immovably monstrous nature: an affinity towards discord and an aversion towards harmony.

Rule one was to remember that a monster was always a monster. Rule two—

Moonlight and shadow as the sole witnesses. Nimble fingers twitch in a call to action—where idle hands were synonymous with the devil’s tools; the watcher no longer content with just watching. He couldn’t be blamed, in the end. It was on her for letting her guard down. It was on him to teach her a lesson.  

—was to never forget rule one.

The dagger may as well have been slipped into his hand. A sleek, pretty little thing, gleaming steel a perfect fit for the space between Tiên’s ribs. She already looked the part he would have found triumph in, flat on her back with her hands neatly clasped, locks of ashen silver to halo her form—a most picturesque corpse-in-waiting if he’d ever seen one. At least she was good for something.

No remorse. No hesitance. Night itself seemingly darkened in a wicked embrace of blood-soaked sin; its silence a clear sign of approval—why else would it have carried the heady weight of a rapt audience worth putting on a performance for?

As easy as breathing.

As quiet as fallen snow.

Of course, it struck true. Of course, it slid home.

Of course, the buried, bladed evidence was revealed in jewel-encrusted hilt, one that stuck skywards and out of Tiên’s chest.

They hadn’t even cried out.

And yet—

A steady heartbeat. Still too steady. Always too steady.

Where metal met meat, a red slit simmered in something almost ponderous. A languid, near bubbling, as if the inner was deciding what to do with the intruder and it had all the damn time in the world to do so.

It’s clear, then. In the moment that should not have existed. In the imposition that should have been imposed in its place. Vere never strikes without the complete and full recognition of what that strike can and will do, but when he’s not afforded even a single drop—no crimson tear to grace the canvas of flesh, no crescendoed swansong to precede the final curtain—somehow, he’s not surprised.

Just like when the murder weapon…

…tips…

…landing onto its side—he’s also not surprised, either.

If anyone claimed that he was secretly hoping for it not to take, they’d surely have been corrected—if not by him, then by the world itself. Because it’s not relief that fills him when he can still hear that blasted beating organ, but neither was it hatred that had driven his hand in the first place.

By the time he retrieves the dagger, a wintry cool has settled within him. A quiet resignation, perhaps. Or at least an acknowledgment—of inevitability, of futility.

Of her.

She’d not been so much stabbed as her heart had become a blade’s cradle, up until it was eaten. Steel piercing flesh? A tale as old as time. Flesh swallowing steel?   

Vulpine ears had flattened. A sigh rises and falls. They hadn’t even done the courtesy of stirring, as immovable as ever—with her breast unburdened with the need of the rise-and-fall, she really did look dead. And while it was a shame that Tiên couldn’t follow through, by the time Vere comes back to bed, he’d already let her have it.

At the very least, if she complained about the pain, then perhaps it would be worth the cost of a knife.

What an utter waste, otherwise.

[butchsophiewalten]

03/03/2024 Twitter Space Recap (1/2)

Martin & Kyle did a twitter space (with a late appearance of Eva) in the earliest hours of the day on the 3rd, here's a recap of what they talked about then:

-Kyle brings up that he wants to do a charity stream for the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund! He says Him, Martin, Coral, and Eva would be there playing Lethal Company. He says he plans to do this "sometime this month".

-Martin describes the 'Walten Dog Saga', saying that first the family got Carlitos, who was Sophie's dog, and everybody loved him, but then one day in 1968, they're playing and then Carlitos gets run over. And it's so tragic that they're like, 'no more dogs!', until one day in 1973 Jack runs into this homeless street dog and brings him home, and names him Jaimito, and they have him for a few months before he bites Edd's arm and "almost gives him rabies", so Jack just gives the dog to Susan, and the one week that she has this dog is like the worst week of her life. He pees everywhere, he tears up her furniture, and after a week of that he just peacefully dies while Susan is out of the house.

-Martin says that aspects of episode 5 are inspired by some of the leaked stuff he's seen from Joker 2. "It's a very fairy-tale, unreliable narrator kind of episode."

-Martin spitballs his "perfect idea for a Walten Files game", a PS1-style game where you work as a Bon's Burger's employee, "in the kitchen at 3am making burgers", fixing up orders to be delivered (by another employee, I'm assuming? He mentions 'a guy with a motorcycle', so I think this is what he means. Like pizza delivery.) He talks about how the supply closet would be on the other side of the restaurant, so whenever you run out of ingredients you'd have to walk all the way over there and back in the dark. He says it'd be really funny if there wasn't even anything supernatural in it.

-Martin talks about how it really bothers him when people say or imply that, because The Walten Files takes place in the time period it does, it would be more accurate or make more sense for his characters to be bigoted. He brings up a specific instance where someone asked him how the other BSI employees would treat Chris. "The point that this person was making is that it would make sense for the team to be racist, and I was like 'No, it doesn't make sense! That shouldn't happen, it shouldn't be a thing!'" He goes on to say... "And then it was shit like, [mockingly] 'Why are Sophie and Jenny a couple if it was the 1980s?' and it's like, gay people existed in the 1980s!"

"It's just like, just because something was the thing back then, doesn't mean the characters should do a very bad and harmful thing, y'know? It's a really stupid mindset, in my opinion."

-Kyle talks about this genuinely really funny Showstoppers Halloween special idea he had a long time ago, where the Showstoppers are really excited for the holiday, but for some reason Bon has never heard of Halloween before, and the other Showstoppers have to explain it to him, telling him about costumes and trick-or-treating and everything. And it culminates with them going up to somebody's doorstep to trick-or-treat, and all the Showstoppers are telling Bon that he should go first since he's the newbie, and when he knocks on the door some lady answers, going "Hello! How are-" and then she looks up in horror. And the shot reverses to show like a full, "hyper-realistic" Scary Animatronic Bon looming over to her, with a Text-To-Speech voice going "Trick.... Or.... Treat."

-Martin talks about his own funny showstoppers idea, where Bon, for some inexplicable reason, has the feeling that he is dying. and he spends the whole episode trying to make amends with people and be nice to his friends, like 'I don't hate you, Banny, I really care about you,' 'Boozoo, you can have Bon's Burgers when I'm gone, because you're my friend and I trust you,' etc. And at the end of the episode you find out he just had a tummy ache, and he was being really dramatic about it.

-After some related banter, Martin jokes that it'd be funny if Jack was at a table eating with the rest of the 'Bunny Smiles family', and out of the blue he goes, like, 'I've got a tummy ache! :(' in a really high-pitched voice. Eva, who had joined the space a while earlier, jokes that his normal voice is just him faking it, and the high-pitched voice is what he actually sounds like.

-They talk about various Godzilla movies for a while, and Martin brings up how he really enjoyed the way Minus One managed to connect the narrative between its human and its monster characters, and how that's something he thinks a lot of other monster movies and horror films fail to do.

"Y'know, it's funny, because when I wrote The Walten Files, I always had the idea that like, there are two parts of the story? Part one, which is like, the human drama, and Edd and Molly, and the crash. And then part two, which has more to do with the animatronics and the place itself. And you have this feeling where there's going to be a moment where those two parts connect and link to each other, and I think that's something you gotta have in, like, horror movies, where- it- you can't just like, make up characters, and just put them in the existing world and have them exist, and then just sit around waiting for the killer to appear, y'know?"

-Eva brings up an incident that's been happening in the Walten Files community on Twitter, where some people have been getting some flack over headcanoning members of The Showstoppers as Black. Martin gets really incensed talked about how much this bothers him, saying "I saw that, it's so fucking stupid. If you- It's just common sense! If you look at someone going 'Hey, I think this character would be Black, I headcanon this character as black,' and you go, like 'I'm not comfortable with that,' what the fuck do you mean? How? That's so weird! And that's what I'm saying, it's like, how does it effect the story in any way that would be negative to you? Like, the only way you would be against that, is if you were like, racist. And it's like, huh? And I think, a lot of people bring up the argument that, 'Ah, but this character is clearly intended to be White,' and it's like, who cares! Who gives a shit? Like, that's not, like a valid argument to go against someone for doing something like that. It would be very different if, for example, someone looked at Chris and went, like, 'What if he was White?', it's very different. The context of that is very different, than just headcanoning a character as Black, y'know? That's completely fine and normal. Why would you be against that, that's so weird."

"I find it even funnier, because, from what it looked like, it was because someone said they headcanon Sha as Black, and it's like, that makes so much sense! I mean, like, I think that if Sha had a human design, she'd definitely not- she wouldn't be white... again, if you're against headcanons like that, you- you're not welcome here."

-"We end this stream saying these few words: Headcanoning characters as people of color is great, supporting Palestine is great, uh, being a Zionist is Bad! Being a racist is bad! And if you like Godzilla: I will give you a kiss on the head. Muah!"

___ They ended up holding another Space much later the same day, which I've decided to cover in a separate post, because it's twice as long as this one, and a lot more of the conversation in it was Walten Files-Centric, so the recap will take way longer to write.

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 33: THE FAIR

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Pregnancy Loss, Infertility

Waking up in your old apartment, you stretch your arms above your head, feeling the crispness of the air as it slips through the slightly opened window. As you step closer, you gaze out at the familiar skyline – the roofs of neighbouring buildings peeking from between the branches of aged trees. Today is the day when you are going to see Cillian again, and by now, you have made up your mind. You wanted him back, regardless of what happened between you in the past.

There was no denying it. He had hurt you deeply, but you still could not forget how he made you feel when you were with him. His smile, his touch, his words – all these things were like a drug to you, making you crave more of him. It was not just about the passion between you two; there was something deeper, stronger even than the love you had for anyone else before. Maybe it was because you felt so understood by him. Or maybe it was because he saw parts of yourself that nobody else could.

You texted each other every day and had two dates since he contacted you one night after your performance at the Abbey. He was trying very hard to make amends, and deep down, you knew that giving him another chance might lead to heartbreak once again, but what scared you more was the thought of never experiencing that connection ever again.

So, today, you decided that you would give in. You would give it another shot. Today, you would meet Cillian for another date, hoping you could rediscover the spark that had once ignited between you.

"Are you sure about this?" Emma asked as she sat beside you, trying to understand your decision better. You had been thinking about it for days and finally told her what you came up with.

"You know what he did to you. Why take such a risk?" she wanted to know, cautioning you about what may happen.

"I do know," you replied, your voice softening as memories of past betrayals resurfaced. "But I also know that sometimes people make mistakes. I, myself, made plenty. He has been trying very hard lately, and, God, I miss him, Emma." you explained, your heart heavy.

Emma sighed, shaking her head gently. "Y/N, if he truly cared for you, why did he break up with you over something as trivial as age?" she warned you. "Despite, do you think that he will ever get over the age difference between you? What if you decide that you want children one day, and he does not? What is if you want something else that he cannot give you?" Emma then pointed out, and your heart ached to hear those words, but you remained steadfast.

"Cillian isn't perfect, and neither am I. We both fucked up. He may not get over the age difference between us and maybe it will cause issues later down the track, but I am still young, and I will regret not giving it a try," you admitted.

Emma hesitated, her brow furrowing. She knew you well enough to recognise your resolve.  "Alright," she finally said, sighing heavily. "If you really think this is the right choice, then I won't stop you. Just promise me that you will be careful, okay?"

You nodded solemnly, reaching out to grasp her hand. "I will," you swore. "And thank you for understanding, Emma. I would not have gotten this far without your support," you smiled, a little relieved that you could move forward. "Of course, sweetie, any time.

We have been through some shit together, and this is nothing compared to what we had to endure back in the US," Emma told you before giving you a firm hug.

"So then, provided that all goes well at the fair this evening, should I assume that you are not coming back home tonight?" Emma smirked, knowing very well that if you had your way, you would probably stay at Cillian's apartment and engage in passionate make-up sessions.

"We shall see," you teased playfully, your cheeks reddening slightly. "I should probably get ready," you told Emma before asking to borrow one of her jumpers. Emma chuckled in response, shaking her head fondly. 

"Sure, you can borrow it; just make sure you take it off before you engage in something inappropriate," Emma laughed lightheartedly.

Her comment made you roll your eyes, a small grin spreading across your face.

"Don't worry, Em, I am certain that if something was to happen, the clothes would come off first," you joked, and she laughed along.

"Good!" she responded before you both began to prepare for the day ahead, seeing that, before meeting Cillian, you had rehearsals at the studio starting at ten o'clock. 

Later that evening…

The evening of your third date with Cillian had finally arrived and you were eagerly looking forward to spending the evening at the Dublin Fair. Your friend Emma had told you about this festivity many times before and how magical and colourful it was and she sure was not wrong. 

As soon as you reached the entrance of the fairgrounds, you could not help but feel amazed by the sight that greeted you. The air was filled with excitement, the scent of popcorn, and the sounds of children playing in the nearby attraction.

Cillian was already waiting for you by the entrance gate. His charming smile made it impossible for you not to notice him, even amidst the crowd.

He wore his usual casual attire, a dark grey t-shirt and black jeans, worn-out leather boots and purple socks sticking out above them, complementing his striking looks perfectly.

He approached you with a warm embrace, followed by an affectionate kiss on your cheek.

"Hey," he said, his deep voice resonating with warmth. "Ready to have some fun?" he asked like an excited little boy, and you nodded, a wide grin spreading across your face as you linked arms with him.

"Absolutely, but first tell me, how is your new feline companion?" you asked as, together, you walked along the winding pathway that led towards the centre of the fairgrounds. 

"He is doing well, and Nina loves him," Cillian told you before pulling out his phone and showing you some photos of Nuggets.

"Look at this one!" he exclaimed, pointing at a picture where Nuggets was lying down, wearing a pair of sunglasses, looking quite adorable. Your face broke into a grin, and you both shared a light-hearted laugh.

"Oh my god, you did not..." you laughed, and Cillian confirmed that Nina took the photo, not him. 

As you continued strolling down the narrow pathways, the lively melodies from live bands began to fill the air, drawing you closer to the stage.

Each step you took brought forth more laughter, music, and cheer. Soon enough, you found yourself standing under the colourful tents, surrounded by the aroma of hotdogs and popcorn, with the sweet laughter of children echoing all around. It was hard to resist not stopping at every stand to taste the delightful culinary delights.

Your steps led you further into the heart of the fair, where the most vibrant and animated games stood.

The crowd seemed rowdier here, and the atmosphere was electrifying. As if sensing your excitement, Cillian pulled you closer to him, his hand firmly grasping yours.

"Come on, show me what you got," he suggested with a gleam before pointing to the balloon dart game in the corner, which you knew was a waste of money but fun nonetheless.

You agreed wholeheartedly, feeling a surge of adrenaline at the thought of attempting these games with Cillian. 

"Should we have a competition against each other? Whoever wins the most out of three games gets to pick the first ride?" you asked, playfully challenging him.

"Deal." Cillian agreed without hesitation, flashing you a mischievous grin. "Let's see who is better at throwing darts, me or you. I mean, clearly, I have at least twenty years more experience," Cillian told you with a smug smile on his face.

With a competitive spirit sparkling in your eyes, you both stepped up to the game, getting ready to aim at the colourful balloons hung above. The crowd gathered around, watching intently, adding to the electrifying atmosphere.

The game master gave you both three darts each, explaining the rules clearly to avoid any confusion.

Once he had stepped aside, Cillian positioned himself strategically, taking his time to aim and throw. His intense focus on the target was evident, and he seemed determined to win.

As you watched him, you couldn't help but admire his concentration and skill. His face contorted, and you adored how his freckled nose moved when he tried to put his mind to something like this.

You felt the heat rise within you, not just because of the competitiveness of the situation but also due to the chemistry simmering between you two.

As you threw your first dart, your heart raced with anticipation. With a mixture of precision and luck, you managed to hit a small balloon near the top, causing it to wobble precariously. 

This only fuelled your determination even more. In response, Cillian's face grew serious, focusing entirely on the task at hand. Taking deep breaths, he aimed at another balloon and released his dart swiftly. This time, he struck a bigger target, and the crowd applauded his success. You weren't fazed though, feeling confident in your abilities.

Carefully selecting your second dart, you concentrated all your energy on hitting the largest remaining balloon. As you took aim, your heart beat faster in anticipation.

With careful focus, you released your second dart, aiming straight for the biggest balloon left hanging. To your immense satisfaction, the sharp tip pierced the balloon, popping it instantly. A loud cheer erupted from the crowd surrounding you as you turned triumphantly towards Cillian, grinning proudly.

However, instead of displaying disappointment or frustration, Cillian merely clapped his hands together, acknowledging your victory. A subtle gleam of amusement danced in his eyes, and a faint flush appeared on his cheeks.

"So, about those twenty years of experience, huh?" you teased him as you both headed towards the next round of games. Cillian chuckled in response, his deep laugh filling your ears with pure pleasure. "Don't get too cocky now, young lady. I will still outplay you at many other things," he quipped, playfully bumping shoulders with you.

"We'll see about that," you retorted, nudging him back, your eyes twinkling with mischief before dragging Cillian to two more games, spending at least twenty minutes in this area before, finally, walking away with a plushie.

"So, what ride will you choose?" Cillian then asked since you had won all three games against him, and you suggested the rollercoaster as your first ride.

Cillian nodded in agreement, his eyes meeting yours intensely, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

Your walk to the rollercoaster line was filled with undeniable electricity as if the atmosphere around you mirrored the fire burning within you. 

Unsurprisingly though, as you waited in line, some women recognized him, whispering among themselves and giggling. Although he received a few glances from them, Cillian remained focused on you, completely ignoring their attention.

"I think you sparked their interests," you whispered to him softly, a slight hint of amusement lacing your words.

Cillian chuckled slightly. "I've noticed, but it doesn't bother me. Does it bother you?" Cillian asked, seeing that you were eager to keep your dates casual and out of the tabloids. 

You smiled and shook your head in understanding, appreciating his care for your privacy. "No, it's fine," you reassured him just as you reached the front of the line.

"Ready?" you asked as the anticipation of riding the rollercoaster together heightened your excitement.

"As ready as I can be," Cillian confirmed with a wink, sending a shiver down your spine before; finally, the attendant guided you towards the cosy car that would take you on a thrilling adventure. The sky was clear, casting a soft blue hue over the entire fairgrounds, making it seem even more magical than before. 

As you climbed into the seat, your fingers brushed against Cillian's, and you both shared a secret smile. An indescribable electricity coursed through your veins, heightening your awareness of each other's presence. 

The anticipation was palpable, building with each passing moment. And then, with a sudden jolt, the rollercoaster began its journey, soaring high above the fairgrounds, revealing breathtaking views of Dublin in all its glory.

"Look at this," Cillian exclaimed, gesturing towards the sprawling city below. "Isn't it incredible?" you asked, your eyes gleaming excitedly. 

As you looked out onto the vast landscape, the adrenaline in your system combined with the closeness of Cillian, creating an intoxicating mix. It was not long before you found yourself lost in his deep gaze, unable to look away. Your heart raced, and you could feel the heat between you escalating until, suddenly, the car rode down the deep descent.

This unexpected turn caused you both to clutch onto each other instinctively, your fingers intertwining tightly. Cillian's touch sent a wave of desire coursing through your body, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

"Fuck," you screamed and laughed all at the same time, enjoying the thrill of the rollercoaster ride mixing with the excitement of Cillian's touch.

"That was amazing!" Cillian agreed, his face flushed with excitement. He gripped your hand tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

"Absolutely insane!" you declared as you both leaned forward to inspect the view of the city unfolding beneath you on the second round before making a surprising admission. 

"You know, I have never been on a rollercoaster before," you told Cillian before the car dropped down the metal pathway for a second time. You closed your eyes, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins, and then, it was over, and Cillian queried about your statement.

"You have never been on a rollercoaster before? Why?" he asked, letting go of your hand, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary.

"Well, in the US, my foster parents did not take me to places like this. In fact, they did not take me anywhere. They used all the money the system gave them to buy alcohol and cigarettes," you explained heavyheartedly. "Besides, they usually cost a fortune anyway," you told him, causing Cillian to turn towards you in pause. His expression grew solemn as he took in your words.

A frown formed on his brow. "I'm sorry. That must have been hard," he expressed genuine sympathy, and you could sense, once again, that he understood the pain you must have gone through.

Feeling your own emotion stirring within you, you reached for his hand and squeezed it lightly, trying to convey gratitude for his kindness. "It's okay, Cillian. Life has its ups and downs, right?" you tried to lighten the mood with a playful smile. "Anyway, we are here to have fun! Let's enjoy the rest of our night."

"Yes, absolutely," Cillian agreed wholeheartedly, returning your smile with one of his own. "Come on, let's find something else," he suggested before asking you whether there was something else you had not done before. 

"I haven't been on a Ferris wheel before," you admitted, smiling at the idea of conquering yet another new experience.

"Perfect, then let's do it," Cillian replied, already moving towards the Ferris wheel entrance with you.

The Ferris wheel operator ushered you both onto a gondola, which slowly ascended, offering breathtaking panoramic views of the Dublin skyline and, in this moment, a wave of uncomfortableness began to overcome you. You did not like the Ferris wheel stalling. It was much larger than the rollercoaster and, surprisingly, made you anxious.

Cillian noticed this and offered you his supportive arm, wrapping it around your waist in a supportive manner. 

"It's going to be fine; there is nothing to worry about," he told you reassuringly. 

You placed your hand on his, giving him a grateful smile. Feeling calmer, you allowed yourself to enjoy the view while the Ferris wheel turned leisurely, allowing couples on adjacent gondolas to engage in conversation or intimate moments.

As the wheel stopped again briefly to let passengers on and off, your senses heightened, and you could not help but notice how close you two were. The sweet smell of Cillian's cologne mixed with the fresh Irish air swirled around you, creating an intoxicating atmosphere.

"Are you okay now?" he asked as his warm hands cupped your own, reassuring you.

You nodded gratefully again, feeling the anxiety dissipate. "Yes, thank you," you murmured, giving him a gentle smile.

"You're welcome," he replied with an equally gentle smile and as the Ferris wheel continued to rotate, you both took turns admiring the captivating view of Dublin's nightlife, illuminated by a myriad of twinkling lights.

Cillian's hand, which still held yours, felt comfortingly strong and protective, and you could not help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this enchanting world of twinkling lights and vibrant colours.

Soon enough, the Ferris wheel stopped, depositing you both onto solid ground. Your feet met the warm pavement, and a wave of euphoria washed over you, heightened by the surge of adrenaline from the Ferris wheel ride.

You both walked aimlessly, embracing the festive atmosphere around you, finding joy in simple pleasures such as the sound of laughter, the taste of sugar-covered treats, and the bright colours filling the fairgrounds.

"So, what is your favourite kind of fast food?" Cillian asked as you stopped at a booth filled with traditional Irish dishes.

"Oh, well, I love fish and chips," you replied smiling, remembering the delicious meal you shared with him earlier.

"Fish and chips, huh? What's your favourite part of it?" Cillian inquired, curious about your preferences. "It would definitely be the flaky, crisp batter on the fish dipped in vinegar," you confessed with a laugh, imagining the tangy taste dancing on your tongue.

"I guess that means that, for our next date, I should take you to the best place in town for fish and chips," Cillian said confidently, already planning another romantic evening together. His easy charm made you feel at ease as if he was always looking out for your happiness.

"Another date, huh?" you giggled in response, blushing slightly at the thought of another romantic evening together.

"Only if you want to," Cillian responded, his eyes sparkling affectionately. He knew just how to make you feel special, and the warmth radiating from his gaze left no doubt in your mind that he genuinely desired your happiness.

"That depends," you smiled, feeling a flutter in your heart at the prospect of sharing more precious moments with him.

"On what?" Cillian asked nervously, glancing at you for reassurance. He seemed apprehensive, worried that your past experiences might affect your willingness to give your relationship another chance. 

"On whether we would be going on this date as boyfriend and girlfriend," you told him confidently, giving him a soft smile. "Because if we aren't, then this would be just another night out among friends," you pointed out, requiring some clarity. 

"But I don't want that," Cillian whispered, his eyes shining with determination. "We have already spent hours talking about why we broke up, and I have realized that it was foolish of me to end things over something as trivial as age. I can't imagine life without you anymore, Y/N" Cillian told you and your heart skipped a beat at his earnest declaration.

"Tell me that you love me," you requested, needing to hear those three little words from him after months apart.

"I love you," Cillian confirmed, his voice filled with sincerity. He paused for a moment, looking deeply into your eyes, as if searching for confirmation of his feelings.

You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body against his, revelling in the warmth of his embrace. The sweet scent of his cologne combined with the subtle fragrance of the nighttime fair created an almost intoxicating atmosphere.

"How much?" you teased playfully, pulling away from Cillian's embrace to examine the delectable options lined up before you. Cillian watched you closely, amused by your curiosity.

"An awful lot, Y/N,” Cillian confirmed. “Do you know how much you mean to me?" he then asked, taking your hand gently and leading you to a corner where no one could see you. His eyes burned with desire, reflecting his deep yearning for you.

"I want you to tell me, Cillian. Tell me exactly how much I mean to you," you demanded with an urgency that surprised even yourself. 

Cillian drew you closer, cradling your face tenderly between his palms. With a fierce intensity, he proclaimed, "I love you with all my heart, and you mean the world to me. I was an idiot, alright? I was afraid of my own feelings, but I am not anymore. I want you back and I want to make things right. Fuck the tabloids or what people might think about it. I no longer care. I just want you, alright?" Cillian declared, his eyes brimming with passion before he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours, a slow, tender kiss that sent waves of longing coursing through your veins. The connection between you both was undeniably powerful, drawing out a moan from deep within your core.

"Take me to your apartment," you eventually whispered as, even in the corner you had chosen, people saw you kissing and making out. "I want to be alone with you," you said breathlessly, running your fingers through his hair, loving the feel of his skin beneath your touch.

Cillian grinned, kissing you once more before turning to head toward the fair's exit point. 

"Are you sure you don't want to go on some more rights first?" Cillian asked, seeing that there was so much more to explore.

"I am sure Cillian. I much rather ride you," you joked playfully, causing Cillian to laugh. 

"I should have seen that line coming," he chuckled before replying, "Alright, let's head to my apartment,” he told you and, with the promise of hot, steamy nights ahead, you both exited the Dublin Fair, holding hands tightly amidst the crowd. 

The cool night air tickled your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you both ventured toward his residence. As the streets became quieter, your anticipation grew.

“I missed you, you know?” you said, as hand in hand, you wandered the streets, causing Cillian to stop and pull you aside.

“I missed you too,” Cillian told you, holding your hands tightly before planting another kiss on your lips.

[drunkenskunk]

So, despite knowing that it's probably futile, I called the office of my senator once again, in the vain hope that the staffer I talked to will pass on the message and get her to see reason in regards to KOSA.

Trouble is: how? Catherine Cortez-Masto is a cosponsor of the bill. I couldn't appeal to her sense of morality, as she's a politician; she had her ethics surgically removed before coming into office. I couldn't appeal to the stated goal of the bill, protecting kids, because if she had spoken to a single cybersecurity professional, she would know that the bill is dangerous to kids, adults, and anyone wanting to use the internet. I couldn't appeal to the Constitution, because if she actually gave a shit about the US Constitution or the Bill of Rights, she would already know its a blatant, flagrant violation of both the 1st and 4th amendments, and be trying to kill the bill, not cosponsor it. And I probably couldn't appeal to the fact that the bill was dreamed up by the same republican think-tank that dreamed up Project 2025, the plan to turn what little remains of our democracy into a theocratic dictatorship run by evangelical christians; she probably believes she's wealthy and influential enough that it will insulate her from the worst effects, assuming she isn't already in on it anyway.

It was a puzzler. And then I had an idea. This is what I said:

"Do you know who Steve Sisolak is? You do? Good. Do you want to know why he's the former Nevada state governor, and not the current one? It's because Sisolak was, without exaggeration, the most unpopular politician I've ever come across. No one liked him. Democrats hated him, republicans REALLY hated him, libertarians hated him, and even people like me, who have never felt represented by any of the major political parties in the state but still vote in every single election because we consider it our civic duty as American citizens, didn't like him either. I can't think of a single person who ever had anything positive to say about his tenure as governor, and as a result? The voter base in Nevada was willing to do anything and vote for anyone just to get him out of office.

"I tell you this, because if Senator Cortez-Masto does not change course, and continues to cosponsor and vote yes on the incredibly unpopular, incredibly dangerous, blatantly unconstitutional KOSA bill, then she will make Steve Sisolak's year, as he will no longer be the most reviled politician in the state of Nevada. If she does not reverse course, she will be committing political suicide on a scale hithertofore unknown to science. If she votes yes, then she might as well pull a Mitch McConnell and announce her retirement right now, because any of her political aspirations for the future, at least among the Nevada voter base, will be dead in the water.

"Now, I don't know how many phone calls you've gotten about KOSA. But I suspect it's not as many as you should. Most people in this state don't have time to call their senators. Most people are working two or three jobs to make ends meet with stagnant wages among the rising cost of living and landlords finding any excuse to increase our rent. Hell, I'm calling you on my lunchbreak right now. But despite all that... people here still find time to vote. And if there is one thing I've learned about voters in this state in the 18 years I've been able to? It's that if you piss us off, the people in this state will absolutely vote entirely out of spite, just to burn everything down. KOSA is so incredibly unpopular among the voter base of this state, that when she's next up for reelection? She will find herself out of a job, mark my words.

"Make sure you tell the Senator that, word for word. And if you can't remember, just play her this phone call that I already know is being recorded."

Will this do any good?

I don't know.

Probably not.

But it made me feel a bit better, at least.

[ashirisu]

All my love to fans of the coffee theory, but I will never be able to get behind it. It will always be better and more interesting to me to assume that Aziraphale is actually just a complex character who makes mistakes as a result of his trauma.

He’s a sweetheart and of course we don’t want to think less of him, but it’s a disservice to the story to act like warm, soft, and loving characters are incapable of making poor (if well-intentioned) decisions through the lens of their negative biases. A sneaky miracle brainwashing in the final fifteen robs him of the agency he’s spent the last six thousand years painstakingly developing—not only does it take away his ability to make his own decision in the moment, it also completely ignores the impact that millennia of indoctrination has had on his psyche.

The indoctrination (and Aziraphale’s learning to question it) is the core theme of the minisodes. In each scenario, he’s forced to question the moral code of heaven and accept that life on earth is complex, and even then, he still struggles to see the point completely. Crowley is still the only demon he doesn’t distrust on sight, and he only openly admits to there being “very light” shades of grey. He’s working on it, but he’s still got at least six more episodes of self-reflection to go.

In every conceivable way, this decision is actually a step in the right direction in terms of his personal character arc. Aziraphale doesn’t have all the information we’re working with as an audience, so we can’t expect him to see the extent to which he’s being manipulated and the full scope of Crowley’s feelings for him. From his perspective, he’s only recently come to terms with how fundamentally flawed the system is and is being given the opportunity to implement real change from the top—to let the entirety of heaven see the shades of grey he’s discovered and end the practice of eternally punishing anyone who asks questions.

Why would someone who’s finally allowed to openly love his best friend, who has just watched another angel and demon successfully find love by following his example, see that as anything but an absolute win?

Of course it hurts and of course it’s devastating, because we as the audience see the truth of what’s happening, but I promise it’ll ultimately be more rewarding to let this be part of his character development instead of a divinely-contrived backslide that leaves no more room for personal growth. Aziraphale realizing he was wrong and working to amend it (which he will, given his characterization up to this point) will make for a better story than him realizing he was magically forced to act contrary to his beliefs.

Our angel can be flawed and messily three-dimensional and we can still love him, it’s okay. I don’t think we should diminish him for the sake of an almond syrup MacGuffin.

[bibibbon]

Tsumiki fushiguro's wasted potential

I will say this once and for all but tsumiki fushiguro was done so dirty by the narrative.

Tsumiki fushiguro is a character who is basically almost non existent when we talk about the fushiguro family and the fact that we only see her from megumi's pov is just sad. Megumi and tsumiki never had a good relationship to begin with and this is further highlighted when we see their interactions as a whole.

@twenty-qs definitely has a pretty amazing analysis talking about megumi and tsumikis relationship so I suggest you check it out if you want a more depth idea of what Iam talking about 👇

Point blank is that they aren't close and you can even assume that tsumiki (overtime) may of developed a slight hatred towards megumi for her own reasons. Both of them could of been depicted as very flawed individuals with megumi shutting everyone out and acting cold towards anyone as his own way to not get hurt by anyone or abandoned again. For tsumiki she had to take on a parental role at a very young age and she also had to cook, clean, manage school, take care of herself and take care of her brother since toji left. Tsumiki was quite older than megumi (2 years I think) but that means she can probably remember what happend and how, why and when toji left which is just a whole lot more packet of built up emotions that her character could of gotten to explore (but didn't). Tsumiki probably wanted to be close with her brother but due to both of their circumstances it just wasn't possible. That isn't to say that megumi didn't care for tsumiki considering that his whole motivation was to help his sister and that's why he became a sorcerer in the first place but he didn't appreciate or value her when she was around and as we see in the manga he viewed her as a nuisance.

We only see megumi change of attitude towards his sister when she falls I to a coma and he realises how ungrateful he was for the things he had. He promises to himself that once she wakes up again that he will try and amend their relationship but as seen in the culling games arc he continually pushes his sister away stating that she should go back to sleep and not worry at all. No offence but telling someone who has been in a coma for 1 year and 7months to go back to sleep is such a rude comment and goes against what megumi wanted which was a to fix the frail relationship he had with his sister. I think that this is one of megumi flaws and I wish it was explored a whole lot more but sadly it isn't. We are obviously shown that tsumiki is acting weird but this is something that we easily pick up on (we don't even know tsumiki that well but we still notice this detail) compared to megumi who easily dismissed this and I think this is very telling of how distant they really are and how they're not on good terms.

To cope with tsumiki going into a coma megumi ended up looking at what his sister did to him and put her on a pedestal letting this perfect version of tsumiki become his moral compass and by doing that he limits any actual humane feelings of negativity that tsumiki may have and ends up dehumanising his own sister unintentionally. This is seen when he calls her the perfect example of a good person and when in the culling games she is the only reason why megumi doesn't kill remi because he imagines her telling him "no megumi".

I feel like the tsumiki plot point should of been handled somewhat similarly to junpei and have the two situations parallel eachother which would add to the stories theme of history rhyming or repeating itself and to the parallels that megumi and itadori share. In this rewrite (if that's what you want to call it) I would have tsumiki gain a CT and cursed energy and have yorozu be in a completely different body. Tsumiki should meet yorozu when she wakes up from the coma and the two can get to know eachother. Tsumiki (lonely,scared and vulnerable) will tell her feelings to yorozu who slowly becomes interested in her after hearing that megumi is a sorcerer. Yorozu will become someone tsumiki can trust similar to what happend with junpei and mahito and to manipulate tsumiki yorozu will make tsumiki think about things that she wanted to avoid thinking of like the little amount of jealousy and hatred that she has of megumi that she shoved at the back of her mind. Tsumiki will probably be jealous of megumi for how he was toji's favourite, how he was going enough to forget about their early home life, for how megumi had an escape that tsumiki could never have, for how megumi never had to take care of another human being and for other things. All these feelings build up and tsumiki tries to see the good in this but she slowly loses herself to darkness and yorozus relationship without anyone realising it until it's too late.

Yorozu presents a plan to tsumiki one where tsumiki will finally stand up for herself and be acknowledged by people. This plan ,(tsumiki tells yorozu about info that megumi gave her) consists of tsumiki taking the points that will be given to her and making a new rule probably the same rule that yorozu made or something else. This is where tsumiki herself betrays her brother and yorozus enters the stage mocking megumi for his lack of observation and how badly he has treated his sister. Here we can have tsumiki confront megumi about how she felt and the slow hatred and jealousy that she has towards megumi can be revealed. Megumi tires to chase after his sister and yorozu but before he can do anything sukuna uses the binding vow.

As yorozu and tsumiki are fleeing they seem the scene that is sukuna making megumi eat his finger and this is where yorozu feels like she hit a gold mine and has a new goal of using tsumiki as bait to get sukuna to come near her. Tsumiki on the other hand is horrified she only wanted to be acknowledged and confront megumi about the things he did but now she looks at the scene below and feels like this isn't right for her. She tries to go and help megumi but yorozu grabs her and tells her not to however tsumiki insists and yorozus intentions become clear to tsumiki and how tsumiki was played and used.

Same few chapters go the same until sukuna in megumi body confronts yorozu and asks where tsumiki is. Yorozu doesn't respond and goes on about she loves sukuna and power of love blah blah. Tsumiki on the other hand was near she watches the battle hoping that she can help her brother but she can't. Yorozu loses and ends up dying she still gives sukuna kamotuke but sukuna doesnt really care.

As sukuna was about to leave he spots tsumiki and megumis soul starts fighting to help and protect his sister in anyway he could. Tsumiki puts up a bit of a fight trying and failing to get megumi to regain control. She is killed with her last words being directed towards megumi. Megumi snaps he is now trying harder then ever to regain control and for a minute sukuna lets him (Iam trying to make it mirror the thing sukuna did with yuji in shibuya) nos megumi si confronted with his sister's dead body and he naturally reacts with anger and sadness overcoming him. Without sukuna needing to do anything megumi loses control and his soul sinks to the abyss. Megumi ends up blaming himself for not understanding tsumiki for not being able to see her pain and his whole pedestal view of her is shattered. Megumis own moral compass is shattered and so is the last person he considered family he has basically lost everything he cared for.

Tsumiki fushiguro should of been treated with more respect by the narrative and I feel like making her situation mirror junpei would of done wonders to her arc it would of also been a very effective way to show jjks themes and a beautiful way to tackle feelings that she must of felt that we never got to see from her character. This idea would of also finally given us character development for megumi as his image of tsumiki is destroyed and he blames himself for not seeing the pain that she was going through. This would also be an interesting direction to take megumis character in and would emphasis on just how hopeless megumi feels after her death and we would be given more emotion which is something that I think this arc lacked between the two of them.

[gengor]

So I like bcs and brb a lot but it’s kind of been bothering me that I haven’t seen much talk about this in regards to either show bcs or brb and I’m not the best person to elaborate on this but I do wanna talk about the way the show writes it’s Latino characters and follows up on them in bcs. 

I’m not gonna get into all the ways breaking bad uses Mexican culture in offensive ways to show Walter’s dissent into dangerous territory bc im hoping that this is obvious to most people. What I am gonna talk about is the way bcs fails to respond to this criticism in a meaningful way. 

So better call saul is a show thats essentially about exploring nature, nurture, and one’s own free will over the person they choose to become. It’s about humanizing Saul into someone we can understand and empathize with. In the time in Jimmy’s life when he was trying to improve as a person he had his brother bait him and manipulate him into committing felonies bc he wanted to feel superior. People in his life drilled it into his brain that he was incapable of being honest so why even bother? The phrase ‘he was born like this’ gets used more than a few times. The show also gives a lot of character work to Mike as well. And although Mike was never painted as malicious he can be incredibly indifferent to the pain of other characters. Bcs let us see emotionally heavy scenes with him where he’s more vulnerable than he ever was in breaking bad. So theres an established pattern of adding more complexity to one of the one-dimensional ‘bad guys’ of breaking bad by making them act differently than how they would in breaking bad. Can you see where I’m going with this?

Rewatching the show after I’d already seen it gave this weird thematic dissonance to way the show reintroduced any Salamanca character. Like as soon as we see Tuco we as the audience are supposed to be in on the joke. Like…Oh, we know that guy already. And of course, the show plays with the audience already knowing Tuco while Saul doesnt to dangle the high stakes of the situation in front of us for drama. Because we as the audience know that Tuco is and probably always was hot-headed and violent to satirical degrees. Other characters even chime in to reiterate that Tuco was always like this. Every single Salamanca family member is treated this way.

 And bc of the way bcs is trying to redeem and humanize it’s previously established white characters just makes this kind of even worse than breaking bad to me. Bc people were vocal about how breaking bad employed a lot of anti-Latino tropes within its writing so you'd think that bcs would try and take this opportunity to amend the writing a bit right? 

You could argue that this is what Ignacio’s character is supposed to do for the show. He’s a Jessie parallel. He’s not really a bad person he’s just incredibly in over his head. And while I do appreciate his presence in the show and like him I feel like it should have been more than just him. 

By far the biggest missed opportunity here to me was the lack of humanization that Lalo got. And I get he’s popular, I feel like that mostly due to how Tony Dalton played him in a very charismatic way. But god he was such a missed opportunity for a thematic follow-through. The way other characters talk about the Salamancas is exactly the kind of predetermination the show is trying to critique with jimmy. When Ignacio is roped into spying on Lalo to aid Gus in killing him he goes in already being incredibly suspicious of Lalo due to his family. He has reason to want this guy to be evil since he’s got to help kill him to save his own skin and his father's. He not only assumes this guy is evil based on his family, he /needs/ Lalo to be irredeemable. Then you're telling me that against all themes and narrative storytelling devices Lalo is just conveniently the guy he assumed he would be. Like, imagine if Lalo got to be a Jimmy parallel, a guy who’s acting out the role people assume he's supposed to fill bc no one thinks he can be anything else. Not humanizing Lalo and ignoring the potential to explore and humanize any other previously established or mentioned latino characters…its like the show is breaking its own thematic statements in order to keep the racism. 

[virgo-mess]

Good Cop, Bad Cop

We have finally made it to part 4 of @karatekels ' request! It's on the longer side because I didn't want to break it into two parts, but I hope you like it, and I appreciate you submitting a request!

TW: Mentions of emotional and verbal abuse towards children, Neglectful Parent, Generational trauma, Arguing, Mild Violence, Smut, oral (female receiving), Confessions, Fluff, Mentions of Police Brutality, Kinks, Cindy Ryan isn't that bad actually sorta kinda, and you might feel a little more sympathy for Cash, man still can't communicate

Chapter 4: Confessions of a Bad Cop with Other Redeeming Qualities and a Kinky Little Minx

🫣

Cash’s Pov

            “Why is having sex with me so damn important to you now, you had so many chances, Cash. I gave you so many chances, you didn’t take any of them and now you decide after twelve years of acting like I don’t exist that I’m good enough for you now. I wasn’t good enough for you to return any one of my calls, I wasn’t good enough for you to ask to prom, you couldn’t even go to a movie with me without disappearing to make out in the lobby with Cindy Ryan and you complained every time we went shopping. Now you just want me to act like everything is okay and that I’m happy you’re finally choosing me now when you’re leaving next week. So, stop acting like you’re trying to make me happy or that you’re trying to make this special for me when we both know it’s never been about me, you don’t care about me. It’s always been about you, Cash. So, if forcing me to sleep with you is what it’s going to take for you to finally stop hurting me then that’s fine. Just get it over with already so I can go home, and you can go back to a happy life free of me” you snapped, turning around to storm back into the bedroom.

Cash let you pull him back into the bedroom, your outburst left his mind and heart feeling incredibly heavy. It was like he was sixteen again, the age where he didn’t know how to act around you anymore, the age where he realized he didn’t just have a crush on you, he was in love with you. He just never figured out how to tell you because you terrified him back then, you still did in a way. You always made him nervous, insecure even, and this prevented him from being as close to you as he wanted to be. He felt this overwhelming need to overcompensate by projecting a confident put together image of himself. He would come to realize that this personality quirk was due in part to what his father expected of him back then.

Cash was always the primary target of his dad’s alcohol induced tirades, he’d get home from school and be hit with an abundance of angry vitriol about his grades, how he was too sensitive, and how he needed to act like a man. Even long after his dad finally went to rehab and deserted their family, Cash carried those words and all the feelings involved with feeling unloved by someone who should love him unconditionally, with him. His dad had reached out to make amends a few times over the last decade apologizing for the things he said and did to him. Confessing that he did those things because his father did them to him and he didn’t realize he was projecting all his unresolved trauma onto to Cash. Until now Cash hadn’t realized he had subsequently done the same to you; he saw you through a lens of fear, rejection, and abandonment and now you saw him the same way.

 “Y/N, slow down would you” Cash muttered as you impatiently tugged him towards the bed. You shot him another one of your intense glares as you moved to lay down on the bed. Cash wasn’t sure how he had convinced himself he’d be okay with doing this if you weren’t willing. He supposed he could’ve been more forthcoming with his intentions going forward from the beginning, you had assumed he was only looking to sleep with you. Given his history of casual flings he could see why you’d assume that, he truthfully only had casual flings because you still held his heart he wasn’t interested in giving any of them the level of love and care he gave you.

“No, I don’t want to drag out the inevitable, so make it quick Ewing” you snarled leaning back onto the unmade bed as you used your free hand to pull your dress up. Cash gently pushed your hand away before you pulled it up all the way, gently pulling it back down into place. You rolled your eyes at him, attempting to pull it back up. He wished he had realized you returned his feelings back then if he had you’d be married by now.

“Stop it Y/N, I don’t actually want it to happen this way, okay. I’m sorry I said I did. I didn’t mean it” he said softly, gently moving your hand away again and pulling the fabric back into place. You rolled your eyes at him again before scoffing.

“Oh, so you just said it for no reason then, right. Got it” you said sarcastically, still laying on your back as you glared up at him. Cash sighed looking down at you with soft eyes, feeling especially vulnerable in your presence for the first time since you were teenagers.

“No, I do have a reason, but it doesn’t excuse me implying I’d enjoy forcing myself on you. So please sit up, Butterfly.” he said reaching down to gently pull you up. You swatted his hand away but moved to sit up on the edge of the bed, Cash took the spot next to you sitting further away than he wanted to. He wasn’t sure if you understood that to his need to touch you and be close to you wasn’t always sexually motivated, he thought he was expressing his affection for you because that’s how he liked receiving affection.

“Why the hell did you say it then” you said dryly, Cash glanced over at you for a moment to see you staring down at the cuff on your wrist. He knew if he took it off you now he’d feel compelled to take you home to avoid having to explain things to you. He had avoided talking about his feelings for you for twelve years and in doing so he left you with the impression he didn’t actually care about you.

“Well, you were making digs at me and I’m not saying I didn’t deserve them. It’s just sometimes it takes me back to when my dad was around, as you know he was really mean when he drank. Yelling at me and criticizing me were his favorite hobbies, I couldn’t do anything right by him it didn’t matter what it was I did it wrong. I cried too much, my grades weren’t good enough, couldn’t accidently knock something over without being called something. So when you said that stuff as silly as being called a shit head is, it hurt” he admitted avoiding eye contact with you. You let out a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry, I know your dad didn’t treat you very well” you replied softly, Cash let out a sigh of his own ready to spill everything he could just for the sake of telling someone. You weren’t going to pick him now so he really had nothing to lose, he lost you a long time ago he just didn’t want to admit that it was his fault.

            “You don’t have to apologize. You’re right. My communication skills are shit especially if you think that I don’t care about you or that I never cared about you. I love you, and I always have. You were my first crush and the first and only girl I’ve ever felt that way for. You’re the girl every other girl gets compared to. You were always my first choice. I was afraid to tell you because I never thought you returned that sentiment back then. You’ve never really been all that open about your feelings, you know. I never learned how to be open that way either, my dad never held, hugged or kissed me, never told me he loved me, he wouldn’t even let me hold his hand when I was a kid and he’d even yell at my mom if she tried to show my affection. He yelled at me when I cried, I was just afraid of getting that reaction from you even though I knew you would never do that, Y/N. When you decided to go to NYU, it crushed me it felt like you were abandoning me. I know I didn't tell you how I felt but I always tried to show you, I took care of you, didn't I. I always kept a sweater in my truck in case you got cold, remembered all your favorute things, hugged you when you were sad , and I thought that was enough at the time. I wanted to take you to prom, but I overheard Ben Lewis ask you right before I was going to. I made a sign and got you flower, you know, that’s what you saw me shoving in the trash. I didn’t ask Cindy she asked me the day before. Glad to know I’m not the only one who can’t tell when someone is into them unless they’re throwing themselves at you though” he said repressing a laugh at you still being jealous of Cindy and him, he was happy to see a blush sweep across your cheeks as you scowled at him. It gave him hope this wasn’t a total loss.

            “Gee I wonder why I never thought you liked me Cash. Clearly guys that like you ghost for twelve years, they also ask you to see movies with them on Valentine’s Day then leave ten minutes in to make out in the lobby with another girl. Oh, and let’s not forget the kidnapping, I mean I could go on for hours about it really” you said sarcastically, Cash rolled his eyes and repressed another chuckle at the irony of the specific night you’re talking about. He had a very interesting conversation with Cindy Ryan a few days ago.

            “I wasn’t talking about that, Butterfly. You know it also would’ve been nice of you to mention you had a boyfriend when you called me every day your first semester at NYU. You know I was planning to apply at the NYPD, I was going to give you the application as a Christmas present that year and then you showed up with a guy that looked like he stepped out of a GQ magazine. I fully planned on confessing to you that Christmas you know, I asked you to go ice skating at Frog Pond and to take a stroll with me down Acorn Street up in Boston. It was supposed to be just you and me the you invited him and Pete and Daisy took it as an invite too” he said roughly, you sneered at him.

Cash could sense you getting fired up again and he can’t help the way his heart flutters. He had never really gotten to see you be anything but sweet and friendly to him back then and seeing you freely express anger at him made him feel a little closer to you.

            “You’re making it really hard not to call you names right now. You can’t even overhear correctly, Ben asked if I’d consider going with him to prom if YOU didn’t ask me, everyone knew I was waiting for you to ask me. You ALSO never said that was supposed be a date, we used to go ice skating at Frog Pond with Daisy and Pete every year. How was I supposed know you wanted it to be romantic, and Riley wasn’t even my boyfriend. He’s very happily married to his husband, the only person he was into that night was you. He went on and on about how hot he thought you were all the way into our sophomore year. You would know these things if you just asked a question” you said sarcastically

 Cash felt his ears flare a bright shade of red at the confession. Riley talked his ear off that night and Cash assumed it was to annoy him, you and Riley were huddled in the corner giggling for most of the party at his mom’s house. You barely even talked to him that night.

            “You guys were all over each other at my mom’s party, Y/N. Huddled up in the corner and giggling the whole night. You barely even talked to me that night ” he said pointedly, you scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. Yanking hard at the cuffs still attached to both of your wrists like you were trying to break them. Cash rolled his eyes before digging in his pocket for the key as he repressed a smile. He wasn’t sure how you hadn’t noticed he was just goading you, and you were taking the bait.

            “Knock it off” he chastised you teasingly, as you nearly knock the key out of his hand. You glared daggers back at him. “Do you want them off or not. I wish I knew New York had turned you into such a stuck up brat before I brought you here” he said teasingly before unlocking the handcuffs, as soon as he gets them off you start swinging on him relentlessly. Cash can’t bring himself to block any of your slaps, scratches, or punches for a moment sensing that you desperately needed to get it out of your system.

Reader’s Pov

            “You just accused me of being a liar and I’m the one who’s a stuck-up brat! Riley and I were talking about you, he was trying to help me figure out if you felt the same way I felt about you. We were playfully shoving each other, it’s not like we were making out. I wasn’t the one making out with Cindy Ryan in the fucking lobby when I was supposed to be seeing a movie with the girl you claimed to have been head over heels in love with, was I? You went to prom with her and everything! If you cared about me so much, why didn’t you know she picked on me relentlessly when we were growing up!” you shouted, hitting him wherever you could reach alternating between closed fists and open palmed slaps as you tried to pin him to the bed.

Cash is keen to let you wail on him for a while and you feel your heart flutter despite yourself. He did say he wanted to take care of you, you didn’t believe it in the moment but you found yourself believing it now.  Cash shoves you off of him with ease, quickly wrapping his arms around yours to prevent you from doing any more damage to his pretty face. A slight satisfied looking smile tugs on your lips when you see all the welts and scratches you’ve managed to make in such short amount of time. Cash looked down at you with some amusement swirling in his eyes.

            “You can put up quite a fight I’ll give you that, I really hope you feel better now. I know Cindy picked on you a lot. I ran into her just the other day and we got to talking about you and you’ll never believe what she told me, Butterfly” he said in a teasing tone, you growl at him for daring to mention her name again, before shooting one of your knees up into his gut, Cash lurched back with a pained grunt. You moved to shove him off you but he grabbed your wrists firmly before pinning them by your head and collapsing on you slightly to keep you from kicking him. You let out a breathless groan as he used a bit of his weight to pin you into place against the bed. You still feel an overwhelming amount of rage and jealousy coursing through you.

            “I don’t really care to know what you talked about me for. She’s a bitch and you’re an asshole, you guys seem to be the perfect for each other really. Didn’t you lose your virginity to each other at prom?” you hissed struggling against him. You feel another wave of jealously overtake you at the thought of him being with your self-proclaimed archnemesis, and confusion at the fact that he really seems to see it as a non-issue. Cash gazes down at you with a fond looking smile, and you really wish you could slap it off his face because you can feel butterflies flutter in your stomach.  

            “No Y/N, I didn’t lose that until I moved to Cleveland. It wasn’t some amazing grand affair either, none of them meant anything to me, just wanted to practice for you. I wanted all my firsts to be with you, okay but I thought you moved on, I thought you were happy. I’ve always wanted you to be happy, Y/N. I promise I wasn’t happy without you I never moved on, I checked up on you every year to see if you broke up with that scumbag Jack you know” he said calmly, you stopped thrashing upon hearing his confession, looking deep in his eyes for a tell, you were surprised when you didn’t find one.

            “I never wanted to be with Jack, I just didn’t want to be alone, I didn't want to be left again. He was horrible to me, you know and you weren’t there to help me. I needed you and you were just gone” you said feeling tears slowly fall from your eyes and the urge to beat him up leave your body. Cash let go of your wrists and let you out from underneath him, taking a sitting position right against the headboard. You craned your neck to look up at him suddenly missing the feel of him being pressed against you; Cash outstretched his arms before beckoning you to him with a finger.

            “Come here Butterfly, come on it’s okay” he said in a soothing tone, you sniffled before rolling over so you could crawl over to him, hurling yourself into his arms as you clung tightly to his neck. Cash pulled you into a sitting position on his lap wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, you let out a soft sob as you nuzzled your face into his neck. Cash ran his hands up and down your back in soothing circles whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

You’re not sure how long you stay like this but you know you never want the moment to end. Feeling whatever lasting anger you had towards him slowly dwindle with every loving word he whispers and every tender circle he draws. You haven’t felt this loved or this content in twelve years. You can now acknowledge that you had made him just as confused and afraid as he had made you. You both had a little bit of responsibility to take for the way things turned out. If you had plucked up the courage to let him know you cared about him regardless of whether he shared that sentiment, things would be different between you now. You can understand now that  he interpreted you going to school as abandonment, his dad left without Cash ever really knowing he loved him. He was afraid of you rejecting him, afraid of you not loving him, and afraid of you judging him for having those feelings. You felt Cash tangle his fingers in your hair.

            “Can you look at me for a second, Butterfly” he whispered hoarsely, you pull back to see his face just as tear stained as yours is. You haven’t really seen him cry since you were kids, those nights when he crawled through your window weeping after a verbal lashing from his father seemed so far away. You had missed the days when you guys weren’t afraid to be vulnerable and comfort each other this way.

            “I’m so sorry I left, I never did it with the intention of hurting you. I’m sorry, I didn’t know about some of the things Jack was doing to you if I had I would’ve put a stop to it faster than I did. Pete told me about that Christmas three years ago when he walked in on Jack hitting you” Cash said calmly, you furrowed your brows at him in confusion at him for a moment.

            “What do you mean you put a stop to it, Cash?” you asked, though you were pretty sure you already knew the answer you had seen Jack come home looking pretty mangled on two different occasions. He never told you what happened but the first time had been on some ‘work’ trip, which was really code for a trip with his mistress and the second was when he showed up at your apartment to pick up the rest of his things

            “I think you know already, but I sought him out and talked some sense into him on his little work trip to Cleveland during New Years that year. I caught him on a parking violation then I was able to hit him with resisting arrest so I could use a little force” Cash said in a dark eerie sounding way that makes you feel hot all over. If you had known he fought in your honor you would’ve jumped him that first day on the beach without a second thought. You still loved him despite all those things that happened between you. You don't think you ever stopped loving him and that was why you were so angry and afraid.

            “He apparently didn’t get the message the first time, as you know. I’m sorry he framed it as him leaving you for his mistress, I wish he had told you a cop beat him to a pulp twice. It would’ve made getting suspended sting a little less, you know. I wanted to reach back out it just never felt like the right time. And then Pete told me you were going to be in the wedding and I knew I had to at least try and give us a second chance. When you tried to run off, I panicked, I'm sorry about doing all this, Butterfly. I over rracted. I’m never going to let anyone hurt you again, Y/N. I’m never going to leave again, I promise. We can get married and travel like you always wanted to” he said softly. You gave him a teary smile.

            “You know if you had started with, ‘I beat your abusive cheating ex-boyfriend to a half to death twice because of my undying love for you, let’s get married’,at the beach I would’ve said yes. You’re bad at planning, can’t communicate, and have no observational skills. You’re a bad cop, Cash” you chuckled, Cash rolled his eyes playfully repressing a chuckle of his own.

            “I’m not a bad cop, way to ruin the moment, Butterfly” he replied softly, you bit your lip slightly as you look at him, running your hands up his chest. Cash trailed one hand to grip your thigh possessively as he gazed back at you with dark lust filled eyes and you feel your clit throb eagerly at the action. You feel nervous butterflies in your stomach, you'd been dreaming about this moment for years. It was a little rocking getting to this point, but you were glad you did because you felt closer to Cash than you had ever been. You loved him, and he loved you too. You've already seen each others faults and flaws and yet still craved each other despite.

            “Well, you are not a very good one, my love but that’s okay you have other redeeming qualities” you purred, moving a teasing hand up his shirt. Cash let out a deep growl before crashing his lips onto yours, capturing you in a passionate kiss. You moaned against his mouth before parting for air, as you quickly move to unbutton his shirt pushing it hurriedly off his broad shoulders. Neither of you appeared to be thinking, it was like you were on autopilot and just instinctivly knew what the other needed. You felt Cash place hot, opened mouth kisses down your neck, moving his hand further up your thigh under the hem of your dress. You feel your heart rate pick up at fact that you were finally doing this.

            “Can you take this off for me, baby” he said huskily motioning to your dress, your cheeks flush a dark shade of red as you slowly take it off for him throwing it off to your side. He made a pleased sound as he aimlessly ran his hands over your skin. Placing hot kisses on your exposed cleavage, you quickly unhook your bra, throwing it off to the side. Cash let out a soft groan as his eyes racked hungrily over your chest for a moment. You loved the way he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on. Cash closed his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking on it as he gazed up into your eyes. You gaze back at him, blushing before running your fingers through his soft gray hair, Cash let out a content sounding sigh at the feel of you running your fingers through his hair. Cash bites down on your nipple causing you to let out a shriek and moan as you throw your head back . Cash never takes his eyes off your face, feeling particularly prideful that you rewarded him with such pretty noises. You shudder against him against him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck in an attempt to keep him from pulling away. Cash chuckles against you. He wanted to stay there as much as you wanted him to.

            “I just want to move you baby . I love seeing you like this for me ” he crooned running a hand through your hair affectionately as he smiled at you , you pout slightly but let him pull away from you. Cash lifted you off his lap placing you gently next to him on the bed, moving further down the bed to admire your perfect body from a far.

            “You’re wearing more clothes than me, that’s not fair” you said innocently batting your eyes at him, Cash chuckled rolling his eyes at you, your bratty side was really growing on him.

            “I didn’t know you were so impatient. I really wanted to take me time with you this round” he said letting out an exaggerated sigh as he moved to stand from the bed. Loving the way you bite down on your lip as you scoot to the edge of the bed in front of him, reaching to undo his belt for him. This was everything he had ever dreamed of, seeing you return his affection without hesitation made his heart flutter.

            “Um, I’ve been patiently waiting for you to come to your senses for fourteen years, Cashton Ewing,” you said sharply, as you finished unzipping his pants, tugging them down his waist shamelessly. Cash bit back a moan as he gazed down at you, loving that you wanted him as badly as he wanted you. “And I’m not sure if I’ve fully forgiven you for ditching me at the movies for Cindy. So, you’re really going to have to prove you can be a good boy for me. Then maybe I’ll consider being a good girl for you ” you said teasingly, Cash let out a low growl staring at you with eyes filled with lust and love.

            “Will you lay down for me, pretty girl” he finally breathed out he really didn't mind doting on you. He wanted you any way he could get you after all. You had him in the palm of your hand. He rolled his eyes lovingly as he watched you pretend to ponder his request for a moment, playfully placing a finger under your chin. Cash gave you the biggest pair of puppy eyes he could muster.

            “I suppose I will” you quipped, turning to lay your head on a pillow looking up at him expectantly. Cash chuckled softly dragging a hand up one of your legs delicately, stopping right where your panties lay on your hip. You let out an impatient whine you were soaked already and need him inside you desperately, Cash smirks at you before finally hooking a finger under the waistband and tugging your panties off in one quick motion. You shiver in excitement and anticipation at the display of dominance and immediately spreading your legs in submission for him the minute he lowers himself onto the end of the bed. You reach out towards him needily batting your eyes at him, Cash flashes you a sweet smile as he felt his heart flutter and his cock twitch againt his thigh, he quickly moved to capture you in another brief passionate kiss. Leaning back on his knees to gaze down at your body fully. You really were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

            “I just knew you had a pretty pussy” he moaned running a long finger over your wet slit, appreciating how you flush at the compliment and let out a whine at the contact bucking your hips up eagerly. “Can I finish you off now?” he crooned feeling his cock twitch again.

            “Yes, Cash. Please finish me off” you cried softly; Cash made a deep pleased sounding rumble from his chest. Coating his fingers with your juices before rubbing your swollen clit in slow circles with his thumb. You moan loudly, arching your back, as Cash lets a finger dip inside you. Cash let out a moan, you were so tight, so wet, and all his.

            “Fuck, you’re so tight, Butterfly” he groaned adding another finger and angling them up to hit your G-spot as he pumped them in and out at a steady pace. You were so reponsive to everything he did. Your eyes roll into your head feeling a pleasure you didn’t know your body was capable of. Jack never made you feel like this, he could never bring you to climax. And Cash had gotten you so close in mere minutes You let out a needy whine when Cash withdraws his fingers from inside you for a moment. Your eyes fly open to look at him. Cash stares at you with dark eyes adoring that you craved him as much as he craved you.

            “I just want to taste you, baby, hold on” he said sweetly, rubbing your leg reassuringly before adjusting the pillows behind your head. “Don’t close your eyes, Butterfly. I want you to look at me while I make this pretty cum, hm” he purred, lowering his head between your legs. Taking in your pretty flushed heat with hungry eyes.

            “Okay” you cry out breathlessly, Cash places a tender kiss on your thigh before letting his tongue make a few teasing passes against your bud, you tasted like heaven and he regreted not being the first to have you. He watches you try to grind against his mouth for more friction desperately needing him to put you over the edge. Cash throws his long arm across your stomach, pining your hips in place. He needed to savor this moment, wished he could film it really but he wasn't sure you'd be open to that.

            “I’m just savoring you, my love; you taste so good. Be patient” he whispers teasingly, you narrow your eyes at him. Cash chuckles before finally slipping his fingers back inside of you loving how your walls flutter around them he couldn’t wait to feel you on his cock. He steadily increased the pace of his strokes wanting to hear all the pretty sounds you made leave your lips, he finally latches onto your clit eating you out rapidly. You cry out with your hands clutching the sheets in your fists, trying to keep your eyes from rolling into your head again. Cash moans against you, removing his fingers so he can thrust his tongue into your wet heat. You move a hand to grip his hair, trying to bring him as close as you can as you let out a string of depraved sounding moans and cries. Cash lifts his head up so he can speak to you, shoving and angling his fingers back inside your tight pussy.

            “I know you’re close, Butterfly, cum for me” he said, putting his mouth back on your clit and letting up a bit on your stomach so you can grind into him loving every pass you make. Staring into each other’s souls, you let out a shriek of pleasure as you feel your walls clenching around his fingers. Cash maintains eye contact with as he sucks your juices off his them. You groan at the action, feeling exceptionally filthy at how sexy you found it. “Can I have a kiss, baby?” he asked softly moving to hover over you with big eyes, you giggle breathlessly reaching up to cup his face.

            “Of course, you can” you said dreamily, Cash smiles at you before capturing you in a sweet kiss, you could tast yourself on him. He pulls away and strokes your hair affectionately, resting his forehead against yours.  

            “Can I make you mine now, Butterfly” he whispered, you nodded in reply trailing your hand down his sculpted chest. Cash gives you one last kiss before standing up to remove the last thing separating the two of you, something about feels oddly poetic. You perk up moving to kneel at the edge of the bed, your whole body is quivering in equal amounts of need, want, and anticipation. Cash maintains your gaze for a moment before gently bringing your hand to his waistband.

            “Do you want to do it; do you want to be my good girl, Y/N” he coos, you nod frantically practically tearing them off him. Cash chuckles darkly thinking of every filthy thing he'dget you to do for him eventually loving the way you take his cock in with pretty wide eyes. You admire him for a long moment feeling your mouth go dry,the feel of him definitely didn’t do him justice, he’s huge both in size and girth, you desperately wanted to lick the precum off of it. You begin to wonder if it’ll even fit inside of you.

            “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle” he assures you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

            “I don’t want you to be gentle. I’m not that delicate” you said confidently, hoping maybe you’ll believe yourself. You know Cash sees right through this as he leans down to whisper in your ear. He didn't want to hurt you too bad, he still saw you as his frail little butterfly. Even though he very much wanted to fuck you as hard as he could.

            “We’ll start slowing and see how you feel. You nodded to my question before, but I need to hear say it, Butterfly. So, I’ll ask you again, do you want to be my good girl” he repeats seductively, laying hot kisses on your neck and shoulders. You suck in a sharp breath as you shudder against him, feeling your walls slick with your arousal again.

            “I want to be your good girl, Cash. Please make me yours” you moan out, Cash growls in approval giving you a firm but gentle shove onto the bed. Grabbing the underside of your knees he pulls you swiftly to the edge. You raise your hips as high as you can in an attempt to meet his waist.

            “Why are you so damn tall” you breathed impatiently, Cash chuckled under his breath, pushing your hips back down. He placed one of his knees beside you on the bed. Staring at you like you were a piece of prey.

            “Legs up, baby” he commanded gently, you bring your knees up to your chest almost instantly. Cash bites his lip at the act of submission before angling your legs a specific way. He gazes at you with dark, mischievous eyes. You raise your eyebrow at him slightly, but don’t say anything, Cash seems to be able to read your mind and answers your unasked question. “The butterfly position for my beautiful Butterfly “ he crooned, you flush a bright shade of pink as he positions himself at your entrance, making a few passes on your wet slit, coating his large cock with your juices before pushing the tip inside you. You unintentionally tense up beneath him, Cash moves to run his hands in soothing motions on your hips, and you relax almost instantly as he rests his forehead on yours.

            “I love you, go ahead and stretch me out I can take it” you whispered, Cash stares at you with loving eyes before thrusting into you slowly; pausing every so often to let you adjust. You let out a soft cry when you feel him bottom out inside of you, you feel so full, and you wonder how you stretched so perfectly for him. Cash peppers your face with kisses as he whispers sweet nothings and words of encouragement.

            “Good job, you’re such a good girl” he praises you; you blush, looking at him sheepishly rocking your hips in small circles. Cash chuckles knowing that he's found a kink of yours so quickly “oh you like praise, I’ll praise you forever, Butterfly” he croons pulling out before thrusting in you again slowly wanting to feel every fold of your insides. You moan as he sets a slow pace. You dig your nails into his shoulders. He hisses in pleasure at you, marking him as yours before leaning down to mark you as his as well, leaving as many lovebites as he can. Loving how you mirror his actions.

            “Oh Cash” you sigh softly, Cash lifts your hips off the bed with one hand slightly to hit you at a different angle before pinching one of your nipples roughly. You let out a string of cries and moans as he gradually increases his pace.

            “Oh, Y/N you feel so good. This pretty little pussy was made for me, right” he grunts.

            “Oh, yes made for you. Fuck, please fuck me harder, Cash. You feel so good inside me” you cry out dazed, feeling your second orgasm quickly approaching, Cash growls gripping both of your hips so hard, you were sure you’d have bruises but can’t bring yourself to care. Cash accepts your request pounding into you as hard as he can, until the only sounds filling the rooms are your shared filthy cries of pleasure and the slapping of skin on skin.

            “Does my good girl want to cum again for me” Cash grunts, as his thrusts grow more erratic. You were so perfect for him.

            “Yes, Cash please, please i want to cum on your cock” you beg, Cash growls rubbing your swollen clit frantically. Continuing relentlessly pounding into you, you dig your nails so deep into his arms you’re certain you draw blood. Cash is too wrapped up in you to notice as he looks deeply into your eyes. You stare back at him.

            “Cum all of this cock, Y/N and I’ll fill you up. I’m yours. Only yours” he pants out, you shriek until your voice is hoarse as your second orgasm comes crashing in on you. Cash shudders above you, letting out an animalistic grunt and repeated cries of your name as he spills his load deep inside you. You reach out to him, Cash doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, lifting you up and pulling you into his chest. He doesn’t pull out as he sits down where he just scooped you up from you both cling to each other, trying to catch your breath, nuzzling your faces in the other’s neck, placing kisses on each other, and stroking the other’s hair. Mirroring each other like you were in perfect synchronicity, in sync. You let out a content, tired sigh against him and you feel Cash’s chuckle rumble through out your whole body.

            “You need a nap already, Butterfly, you slept for fourteen hours” You could hear the amusement in his voice and turn your head to look up at him with a dreamy smile.

            “No, I’m weak, I haven’t eaten anything yet, remember. Feed me, then I’ll cuff you to the bed and we can go another round” you said playfully, Cash narrowed his eyes playfully at you before finally pulling out of you, setting you gently on the bed. You watch him lazily pull his pants back on before picking up his shirt.

            “Come here, Butterfly” he cooed beckoning you to him with a finger, you scoot to the edge of the bed because your legs feel like spaghetti noodles. Cash chuckles softly dressing you up in his shirt and loosely buttoning a few buttons, you giggle at how gigantic it looks on you, before reaching up to him with a sweet smile.

            “Carry me please, Cashy” you say sweetly, Cash happily scoops you up and carries you out of the room and down the hallway.

            “Wait, what did Cindy say” you ask narrowing your eyes at him playfully. Cash chuckled placing a quick kiss on your cheek as he made it to the top of the stairs.

“Oh, so now you wanna know, huh” he said with an amused glint in his eyes as he carries you down the stairs gently. You giggle raising your eyebrows at him expectantly.

“Yeah I really wanna know, you were a good boy and all but I need all the info so I can fully move past this misstep of yours. Tell me about your mistress Officer Ewing” you said teasingly, Cash rolled his eyes at you setting you on a stool at the kitchen island before heading towards the fridge.

“I was never even into her that way. You’ve been the only girl occupying my thoughts and dreams since I was seven, Butterfly. You seem to be under the impression that you and Cindy were both vying for my affections, but the truth is Cindy and I were both vying for your affections” Cash said smugly, you furrowed you eyebrows together.

“Huh” you said, looking at him in disbelief. Cash let out a deep chuckle.

“That day at the movies, I only left to go to the bathroom and get you Twizzlers from the concession stand. You said you didn’t want any but I knew you did, anyway, the line was insanely long it was Valentines Day after all. I was just waiting patiently when Cindy popped up out nowhere and asked if she could give money for what she wanted because she didn’t want to wait in line. I said sure just to be nice and then she started talking my ear off for like fifteen minutes straight. We bought our stuff and I told her I had to go because you waiting for me but she wouldn’t let me leave, she just kept talking and then out of nowhere she threw herself at me. I didn’t even kiss her back, Y/N and it wasn’t very long. She stopped pretty quickly but I guess that because she got what she wanted, you ran out. And then Cindy just left like nothing happened, I was so confused but went back in to be with you, I may have also been planning to kiss you that night but that doesn’t matter now. I just thought you went to bathroom but after twenty minutes I got worried and went back to the lobby to find you asked some girl to see if you were in the bathroom, you weren’t. I went looking for you everywhere you know, Butterfly that’s the only reason it took me that long to get home” he said placing a reassuring kiss on your cheek.

“Awww, you were going to kiss me. I’m sorry I left, so you’re saying Cindy did all that because she was jealous” you cooed blushing, you guess you really were just as oblivious as he was.

“I forgive you, and yeah, she told me all about this when I ran into her and her girlfriend the other day. She didn’t realize why she hated how much time you and I spent together you know, she knew she liked getting your attention and picking on you but she hadn’t realized it was because she was attracted to you. Until she kissed me to make you mad and she figured out she didn’t enjoy it like she thought she would and she felt really bad when you ran out crying. After she figured that out she did everything in her power to keep us apart. You’re just that irresistible, Y/N” he crooned with a smug smile, setting a sandwich in front of you. You gave him an apologetic look and puppy dog eyes.

“I’m sorry for holding that over your head, but again…” you said pointedly. Cash rolled his eyes before taking a seat next to you.

“Communication is your friend, yeah, I got it, now eat your sandwich. And no, I won’t share you anyone else, man or woman, so don’t even ask” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes playfully giving him a slight smirk.

“That’s okay, clearly, I don’t like sharing either, Cash. It’s like I talk but it goes in one ear and out the other. My only request is that we at least have sex once in my bedroom at my mom’s house. I think it’ll be really kinky if you defile me in the first place I ever had an orgasm while thinking of you” you said nonchalantly, taking another bite of your sandwich glancing at him for a moment, Cash looked at you dumbfounded.

“While your mom’s there” he asked in a hushed tone looking at you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks. You gave him a smug smirk and wiggled your eyebrows at him.

“Yes, we can play your little game from earlier and everything. Although, I think she’d really be into hearing us actually, you should see the nightie she put in my duffle bag” you said coyly, a wide grin spread it’s way onto Cash’s face as he looked at you.

“I’m beginning to think you liked me kidnapping you more than you let on, Butterfly. You’re a kinky little minx, I didn’t think it was possible for me to love you more than I already did.” he crooned, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

[sarka-stically]

im mad enough to make 2nd post and I barely post ever. this show was never high tv but this ep rly spat in the face of everything i liked about it. usually i try to be positive but here you got random list of all things terrible in no particular order (vaguelly chronologic who knows)

ALSO I dont take them probably assuming they would have more eps and then scrambling to fit the story in one episode as decent excuse... the stakes they set up in ep7 werent impossible to fix with one ep, they just wrote terrible episode

ed's entire character arc of 2 seasons being rolled into tiny ball and thrown in the trash. and no he isnt slipping or spiralling again, it isnt him being hot protective husband, this is him, character who spent 2 seasons trying and failing to be better and finally decided that the healthiest thing to do is to just drop the lifestyle that brings out the worst in him and pursue simple life THROWING IT OUT after finding out its not as easy as he assumed and he would have to work for it??? incredible fucking message david jenkins, if being better version of yourself is just lil bit inconvenient its not worth it go back to your crappy ways.

and NO its not him slipping, the tone of this whole thing is very distinctly victorious. and also NO the path he took now is not in any way different or better than the one he left. there is even fun triumphant vibe to him KILLING PEOPLE which was always treated as sth BAD for him??? literally absolute nonsense

what the fuck was that plot?? why are all pirates arrested?? when all they did was sink those ships?? i know this show tends to be cooky and silly and cartoony, but this was just absolutely random unexplained jump of stakes.

WHERE THE FUCK are all the other husbands of jackie. this is barely valid complaint but this stupid ep rly makes it look like swede is her only husband and I dont appreciate it

why the unholly hell did they spend entire season actually setting up crew as important, give them their own opinions and relationships to their captains, have izzy even mention that THE CREW is what its all about.... and then have them barely have any speaking roles in this episode and 0 plot relevance

that fucking PLAN??? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT??? im sorry why the fuck did their plan include walking through the biggest swarm of brits while having mr noseless richie UNSECURED amongst them??? why even BRING HIM other than to have him there specifically so he can be the one to shoot izzy for future drama???

izzy. death.

i genuinely could be FINE with izzy dying if they wrote it decently. and id even be fine with it in this episode. if they made it fucking meaningful... but they had my man, mr famously skilled pirate catch random bullet because he is incompetent actually... bullet into the side of the body that ofmd physics say is survivable easily??? and then give 0 attention to it??

ed being there while he dies??? this truly makes me just feel like they killed him only so in hypoteticky s3 they can woobify poor ed some more... or even give him excuse to be narrativelly clean of any atrocities he does in name of revenge

but it makes no. fucking. sense. ed shluldnt be there saying ur my only family, ed has not treated izzy as family ONCE in this entire show, ed barely talked to izzy after first 3 episodes, he is NOT the person on that ship who cares about izzy the most of all. if anyone should be there while he fucking DIES its the crew. who has shown constantly through this season that they care about him, who he made whole speech about in THIS SAME EPISODE. im sorry frenchie did NOT carry izzy back on the ship to drop him on the floor and have ed who I REPEAT HAS NOT SHOWN HE CARES ABOUT HIM AS MORE THAN AQUITANCE SINCE LIKE EARLY S1 be the one to be there in his last moment.

I get izzy wanting to make amends but BOTH OF THEM SHOULD BE APOLOGISING, HE SHOULDNT VE BEGGING FOR FORGIVENESS and ed shouldnt be framed as blameless in their relationship in izzy's last moment.

and what made me genuinely laugh was izzy saying that the crew is ed's family. they are literally NOT. everyone who was aboard the revenge either hates him or is scared of him, and I dont think they had enough reason to change their minds as ed hasnt rly spent any time with the crew and shown only care for stede. they are NOT ed's found family and this payoff and this found family line is so ridiculously not set up and not narrativelly deserved it makes me laugh.

overall absolutely ridiculizs episode it made me laugh and it made me angry and it also made me angry how quickly we move past that

[nebulablakemurphy]

Through Love And By Love (Pt. 4)

Draco Malfoy x Fem!OC

Summary: Twenty-Two years ago, Draco Malfoy used the imperius curse to slow Voldemort’s rise to power. No good deed goes unpunished. Warning: this series contains mature subject matter surrounding use of the imperius curse, reader discretion advised.

1 | 2 | 3

Rosanna wakes alone, it’s not yet morning. The clock on the bedside table reading 3:15 AM. She forces her body from the warmth of their bed, following the sound of tinkling piano keys down to the parlor.

She finds Draco there, sat at the piano, in dim candlelight.

He feels her presence before he sees her. Shoulders tensing a bit before he turns to the intruder. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Rosanna hesitates before admitting, “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“That makes two of us.” Draco pats the piano bench beside him.

Rosanna closes the distance between them, making herself comfortable on the oak bench that matches the glossy, black, finish of the grand piano.

Draco places a hand on her belly, his palm swiftly greeted by a kick. “That makes three of us,” he amends his previous statement. “Rambunctious little thing. Gets that from you.” Draco traces what he can only assume to be the babe's foot, across Rosanna's skin.

“They’re having a party in there.”

Draco smiles, pressing kisses to her bump. "I know, first hand, how lonely it can be growing up a Malfoy. Forced to conform to my parent's ideals. I never had many friends, just people who hung around for my name.

I think their reputation may proceed them, at school. Others might shy away, or worse, they’ll attract the wrong sort.” In truth, that’s why he’s asked for more children; more than he wants to hold them in his arms, more than he wants to see her in their tiny faces, he doesn’t want their child to be alone.

Rosanna feels the tears welling in her eyes. "People might treat them differently, we can't protect them from that. All we can do is teach them to be kind and true to themself, that they’re always loved."

"I've been thinking- it's about time they had a proper name. If there's one you have in mind, we should use it. But if not... I quite like Leo. It means-"

"Lion." She finishes for him.

"Brave and true. Any child of yours will be just that." Draco explains, fondly.

"Leo," Rosanna tests it out. The name feels right, their baby feels like a, "Leo." She says again, with finality. "So you do want to stick to constellations?"

"We don't have to." Whatever she wants.

Rosanna nods, turning her attention back to the abandoned keys.

“Do you play?” Draco wonders.

“I can play chopsticks.”

“I could teach you.”

“Sometime when I’m not half asleep.” She has nothing better to do. “Maybe you could play for me.”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve learned this one just for you.” Draco wastes no time, repositioning his hands, “feel free to sing along.”

Rosanna wonders what it’ll be, a love ballad, surely. Something deep and meaningful, destined to make her cry…but no. Not at all.

Draco plays the melody with a cheeky smirk, looking to Rosanna expectantly as he plunks out the first note of the chorus.

“So, bye, bye, Miss American Pie,” Rosanna can’t help but return his playful smile. “Drove my Chevy to The Levee, but The Levee was dry. And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey in Rye, singin', this’ll be the day that I die.” She knocks his shoulder with her own. “Enough.”

“Very well,” Draco lets his hands fall back into his lap. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What do you want to be?”

“What do I want to be?” Rosanna’s brows furrow.

“Do you want to be a housewife? Would you rather work for the ministry? Or perhaps become a potions master? A writer? Journalist? Professor?” He pauses, “I’ve told you what I want, but those are my dreams, not yours.” Draco searches her eyes with his own. “What do you want to be?”

“Well,” Rosanna stammers, “I want to be a good mother and a good wife. I want to be close to my friends and…” She pauses, feeling a bit guilty for saying it, when she knows how hard he’s trying to make her happy. “I want to finish school and see the world. Maybe I could try out for the Holyhead Harpies, I miss quidditch.” Rosanna breathes, “more than anything, I want to be free.”

“You will be free, Ro.”

Something catches her eye, down near the place where his hands are resting. He follows her gaze…the mark.

"I'm the one who has to live with it, not you." Draco explains, clearing his throat. He never considered that it mark might bother her to look at.

"No, I wasn't-" Rosanna breaks off, seeing the exasperated look on Draco's face. "Ok, well I was looking, but it's not what you think." She explains.

"What then?" He sighs.

"It looks different, lighter." The girl explains.

"Trick of the light." He doesn't need to see it, to know it can't fade.

"Will you just look?" Rosanna insists.

"I’d rather look at you.”

“Very smooth, Malfoy," Rosanna purses her lips. "But, you're not getting off the hook that easily."

He rolls his blue eyes at her. “That’s Draco to you.”

"Or what?" Rosanna challenges. "Your father will hear about this?" She laughs, lightly, at her own joke.

"Piss off," he snorts, moving his forearm toward the light. Blinking at it in disbelief; because she's right, it's not half as dark as it was a week ago, or even a day ago.

Rosanna traces it with her finger, "am I right? Or am I right?"

"Dunno." He swallows, unsure if he's imagined it.

"Maybe you should show your Dad. I wonder if his is doing the same thing." Rosanna suggests.

"Do you often think of my father while we're alone together? Do you fancy him?" Draco cocks his head to the side, it's his turn to have a laugh.

"Eww." She crosses both arms over her chest.

"It's a fair ask." The boy shrugs. "This is the second time you've mentioned him in the past five minutes."

“I hate you."

“You love me,” Draco corrects her.

“I do, don’t I?”

The image of a young Draco dancing across her mind. Much too young for her to have known him.

By the time she realizes what's happened, or has a chance to stop, she's pushed from his mind.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Rosanna apologizes, immediately.

The trick with Legillimacy, at least in her experience, is that she can’t control if and when she sees things. Especially once she gets close to someone. Others would give an arm or leg to be born with a gift like that.

"I'm not angry, you surprised me is all." Draco stops her, feeling physically ill when Rosanna flinches away. "Don't," he chokes out, against the lump in his throat. "It’s alright." Draco insists, reverently.

"No, Draco-" Rosanna remembers the horror stories he’d told about having his mind searched, invaded by his Aunt Bellatrix when she’d taught him the art of occlumency.

"Rosanna, I want you to see me."

Her hand trembles, reaching out to touch his face, allowing the images to flood her mind once more.

Draco is five, sitting with Lucius and Narcissa. He wants to play with children his age, the only ones he's allowed are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, they'll have to do.

Draco receives his Hogwarts letter. Lucius once again drills into him the importance of Slytherin house and how all other houses are less than.

Draco is presented with a wand by Narcissa, 'the best wand.' But seeing as it never had a chance to choose him, it takes a while to give it's allegiance.

Under his father's request, a young Draco attempts to befriend Harry Potter, who is quick to reject his outstretched hand.

Second year their rivalry continues when they become seekers for opposing houses. Calling Hermione a 'filthy little mudblood,' when she accuses Malfoy of buying his way onto the quidditch team.

Then third year, the cheeky girl with the accent. Grading his nerves during their project, worming her way into his dreams, even worse, into his heart.

His fear of rejection, fear of disappointing his parents, fear of caring for her more than he should. Jealously over her friendship with Harry and Ron, being angry for hours if one of them lean in too close or if their eyes linger too long.

The dress he’d chosen for her, fourth year. How nervous he was to ask her to the Yule Ball to begin with. Overhearing Dean Thomas and Fred Weasley debating if Rosanna was truly interested in a prat like Malfoy.

Taking a spot on the inquisitorial squad fifth year, to protect Dumbledore's Army, even though it was run by Potter. The nights spent with Rosanna, learning to produce a patronus. Thoughts of her bring the silver lion to life, bounding off the walls of his dorm room. He's not entirely surprised to learn that his patronus is the same as hers.

That Christmas being the worst of his life, the way her tears threatened his resolve. How many times he nearly crumbled and wrote her during their separation. The way the days seemed to drag on, leaving a Rosanna sized hole in his heart.

Pretending he was fine, happy even, that she never meant a thing to him. Lying to his family, biting his tongue when his father made remarks about her. Oftentimes laughing through the pain in his chest.

When Lucius is taken to Azkaban, part of Draco is relieved. The other, larger, part is devastated. Despite it all, Draco loves his father. Wanting to reach out to Ro before committing himself to Voldemort, ultimately deciding it was too dangerous.

Being ashamed when she confronts him on the train and wishing he could scrub the mark off his skin. Hating how nervous and sad Rosanna's eyes are as she leaves, almost calling her back.

Mending the vanishing cabinet, feeling hopeless all the while. Returning home for Christmas and overhearing his mother and aunt discussing the prophecy.

'It's a baby, Cissy.' Bellatrix purrs to Narcissa. ‘Born from the dirt, through he, blossoms. It’s the filthy blood from the girl’s mudblood mother.’

'He’s just a boy.' Narcissa argues.

‘Draco should be honored to serve the dark lord, as should you.’

Telling Rosanna of their fate, knowing there's nothing he can do. The anger that consumes him, when his mother confirms the pregnancy. Being unable to control his sobs, when he feels the child stir in her belly. Rosanna finally waking up as he hopes beyond all hope that she's not disgusted by him.

Instead, she asks if he's ok, if he missed her. Taking nothing for granted and living each day with her to the fullest.

Knowing that during their duel with the trio, she was going to cause a distraction, still being gutted when he hears her scream. How much he truly enjoyed waiting on her hand and foot for seven entire days.

Loving her more with each passing second. Reading up on his baby books when he can't fall asleep. Dreaming about their child, unbeknownst to Rosanna, hoping for a brown eyed, Gryffindor, with her smile.

Rosanna finally breaks their connection. Draco can be an ass when he wants to be, therefore very few people have the pleasure of truly knowing him. “Thank you.”

Lucius clears his throat, from the entryway, startling them apart. “Draco, I need a word with you.”

Draco’s father has a nasty habit of sucking all the air out of a room.

“Give us a minute.” Draco pecks a kiss to Rosanna’s cheek.

“I’ll be upstairs.” She moves to stand, squeezing Draco’s shoulder, in parting.

Lucius waits until she is out of earshot to make his move. "Let me see your mark." He extends his arm, for comparison.

Draco obeys, peering down at them. "What's it mean?”

"The Potter boy is getting stronger, destroying horcruxes surely. We should have been the ones to turn him over to the dark lord." Lucius seethes.

"He doesn't know Potter was here, unless Bellatrix told him." Draco replies.

"Don't be daft Draco, of course she's told him." Lucius knows Bellatrix's allegiance was never to them. "He's not pleased, however the child is of utmost importance."

"Why do you care?" Draco asks his father. "Why do his bidding?"

"Son, you've heard the stories-"

"I've heard stories of a great man; I have yet to see a great man. I have seen a creature, who may have been a man once. One who is vile and cruel, whose only desire is to harm. I don't understand." Draco leans forward.

"Keep your voice down." Lucius scolds him like a child.

"All my life, you were on about blood purity, how we were somehow better; more powerful than blood traitors and half bloods. You must know it's a lie. Rosanna is better than you, she's better than me, she's better than the lot of us put together. She's not going to stand with him. She is good." Draco annunciates each word.

"Have you considered what will happen if you fail the dark lord?" Lucius asks, reaching the end of his patience. "If you love Rosanna, you'll convince her to swallow her pride-"

"Pride has no part in this." Draco swallows, harshly. "I will not force her hand. I will not take the light inside of her and snuff it out."

"Do you think her lot will ever truly accept you?" Lucius tuts. "That they will simply, excuse your past actions? You will always be a suspect, they will never trust you."

Draco squares his shoulders, “she’s worth it."

"She will die for this Draco, you will die for this." Lucius steeples his hands in front of his mouth, in frustration. "I realize I've been harsh, but never because I don't love you, rather because... I do." Lucius chokes up a bit. "I beg you both; reconsider."

Part 5

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

Oh you poor dumb bastards

So after seeing the Nijisanji drama that recently happened, which mind you is a NEW new one, I get to use it as a springboard for another topic because there's been the problem of Google Gemini erasing white people from history almost fully as well. But here is a supercut from my new fav moron Uki.

Now, based on this supercut some people might be like, "He's just joking" OK so racist jokes are ok then? I doubt you'd say that if it were a white person making jokes like this about Asian or Black people.

We need to get to a point where we can get SPECIFICALLY leftists to say if it's all ok or none of it is. PICK one.

If we are going by my standards, I believe it should all be ok. Because I'm pro first amendment. But then also when it's "Some of it is ok but not the rest of it" I finally get into a point where I'm like, "Ok.....so you are actually PRO discrimination just so long as it's against 'The Correct People™' but you think just YOU get to decide who".

Congrats you are on the road to admitting you are just as bigoted as the people you claim to be against. The only difference is they can often times admit it. You on the other hand are so "Holier art thou" that you can't even begin to admit you ARE just as bigoted. Mind you, that's fine. You do you. If you want to be a racist asshole, stop making excuses and just BE a racist asshole. If you are a self hating white person, just hate yourself and admit you are racist against people that look like you.

Frankly you'll feel a lot more free if you do.

But I know why you don't. Because you are a piece of shit. Oh I'm not done. I'm just calling you out for what you are. See I know what it is that you all do. You give into the hate, the bigotry, the racism, the sexism, the heterophobia, the biphobia, and then at the end of the day you seek out a reason to justify it and claim that, "It's actually not real hate because X reason".

No. It is real hate. It's just that you need to pretend that your reasoning for the hate is ok. What's more, you want the same ability to be just as hateful as EVERYONE else, without being called out for it. Because THEN you'd be robbed of your ability to do the same. And you'd be straight roasted off of the internet for being a moron hypocrite. Which I mean you are regardless, but far more people would be willing to call you out for it. Sadly though, leftists need an excuse that gives them a "Good reason" to be bigots. While not having to themselves, be called bigots.

Although I'm starting to look forward to what's going to come next honestly. Not because I'm going to enjoy it. But because it's going to be interesting being proved right.

Proved right about what you may ask? Well for starters the fact that a large portion of the left, unabashedly want actual violent racism in the streets. Because it would play into the Savior/Victim complexes. The White Saviors could come out swinging and say, "SEE we just KNEW this country was racist", and the people with victim complexes could say, "SEE we just knew that white people have always hated us and held us down". They are quite literally creating the people they claim to be so afraid of. It's quite the show if I do say so myself.

Now......is this something I actually want? Absolutely not. We really didn't have a very large racism issue in the US for a while. From 1980 until about 2012. Is that to say no one during those years was racist? ABSOLUTLY NOT. Racism is a human problem and it will never fully be gone. Having said that, the more we FOCUS on race, the more we actually create racism generally. Used to, people would just throw slurs around, and while yeah it wasn't great, those slurs were having their meanings stripped. Eventually it got to a point where if you said most slurs people would just shit talk you and not take it seriously. Were there people that did? Most certainly.

Though it was not a huge issue. We judged people based on character, and actions. We did not assume, "Skin color = certain history". Because it's IGNORANT as hell to see a persons skin color and assume the type of life they have lived. If you, a ignorant liberal, walk into a room and start saying, "OMG I'M SO SORRY FOR MY WHITE PRIVILEGE YOU MUST BE SO POOR AND UNEDUCATED", you ARE the racist. Period, end of story. A lot of Jewish people appear to be white and they have suffered atrocities one after another it feels like. Slavs have also suffered greatly. As have the Poles. And so have the Irish.

Frankly speaking, suffering is a human thing. Everyone has suffered throughout history. However, in the US, we have manufactured this idea that the only people EVER at all who have ever suffered are ONLY people that are not light skinned. Not only is this characterization false, it leads to stuff like, "The Oppression Olympics". IE: People fighting for who's "People" have collectively suffered more throughout history. Except there is no "Right answer" because there IS NO right answer. All that idea does is seek to turn people into perpetual victims. Of course it does. And why would it not. People are so obsessed with being the center of attention at ALL TIMES and throwing pity parties, they can't NOT talk about how much of a "Victim" they are.

There is a broader problem though with all of this. This causes racial tension to be much much worse over time in general. Because it's people going, "HEY HEY HEY I'M THE MOST OPPRESSED! LOOK AT ME NOT THAT (insert non white minority here) X b*tch who doesn't know what real oppression looks like."

I'm sorry but most of you in the West today have ZERO clue what real oppression looks like. I'm sure that the people from North Korea and Hong Kong know much more so what actual oppression looks like than you ever will in your life. What's more, most of you think the word "Trauma" is a catch all for any inconvenience you go through or any hardship at all. No, trauma is waking up from sleeping on your couch as a young child (6) to see a grown ass man trying to shove HIS DICK in your mouth. THAT is traumatizing. Most of you will never understand actual trauma. Nor will every person on earth experience it.

To try to wrap up though. Stop creating more hate. Yes you CAN be Heterophobic. You CAN be Biphobic. You CAN be racist against white people. YOU CAN be sexist against men. Stop pretending that your hate is in ANY WAY different when it's not. Sane people see through your bullsh*t. You are just as racist, sexist, and bigoted as everyone you claim to be against. You just can't swallow the fact you want the ability to be all those things. Stop making excuses. Either own up to it or gtfo. Admit that you want to be a bigot. Admit that you want to be an asshole. Admit that you want to create more hate to satiate your hero complex. Stop screwing around and making everyone's lives worse for it.

As to the Niji guy. I don't care at the fact he shit on white people as much as he did. I care that he's allowed to be as racist as he want's with ZERO punishment. While if he had been white talking about LITERALLY any other groups, he's be locked in a box and dropped into the ocean. The bullsh*t double standard needs to stop. For all of this.