#they ignore the parts of the argument that make the other sound reasonable

[randaccidents]

So I heard this line in The Bidding and I legit didnt realise it was flipped and ended up making this while trying to figure out why each half would say this in the middle of ethics class so uh. Postersssssssss.

(the scribbled out bits are because I think that Heart and Mind cherry pick their arguments to make the other look unreasonable)

(maybe I'll post the clean version soon)

.

OH credits to chatgpt of all things, its where I got the content for the text (heck I copy-pasted wholesale for Mind's one cause it fits his speech)

[syllikins]

"𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐑?"

❀ genre: fluff

❀ pairing: sylus x reader

❀ contains: mutual pining, sylus down bad, yucky vulnerable feelings (jk i love him so much for this reason), reader in denial (sorry guys), poorly proofread

❀ word count: 1.03k

❀ authors note: i'm taking a crack at this. but omg that scene where he tells mc there is no love purer than his after he asks if she finally realizes how he feels about her? COME ON. HOW CAN I NOT LOVE HIM?? had to write something inspired by that dialogue because it was so????? i'm definitely going to reference to some other stuff he has said in the game that made my heart flutter because?????

"there is no love purer than mine."

is a statement that has been replaying in your mind over and over again since that day.

you couldn't help but wonder if sylus lacks self awareness because how can you actually pinpoint his feelings when every conversation the two of you engage in seems like a ploy for his own entertainment.

every pointless banter. every teasing remark. every sickeningly corny nickname that unfortunately sounds like honey whenever it left his lips. maybe you ignored his childish attempts at flirting because you were too busy ignoring the ticklish feeling it gave you in your heart down to your toes.

sylus may make your eye twitch or send a small twinge in your brain with every smartass comment he feels he has to belch out: but maybe that's part of his charm. he mainly gets away with it with a face like that.

but your developing feelings for sylus was far more emotional than it was physical.

maybe it was the way he was always ready to lock in when it really came down to it.

the two of you being around each other always ended up with you or him being hurt. sometimes both. and if not either of you, chaos ensued. maybe a building was blown up instead. it was fun but it was times like those when you learned about sylus in a slightly more intimate way. it took a few deep gashes and heavy panting, near death experiences and stitches. but he needed your help. you liked that he could at least admit that. he saw you reliable enough to call on you when he was most vulnerable. and he helped you in the same way, despite protest.

he likes to hold hands. but it's not just his fingers intertwined but more like your hearts tangle more than your fingers. it was nice...he may mean it to be authoritative but there is always an underlying sense of comfort in his fingertips.

maybe he was a vampire. as you had previously joked. silver hair. red eyes. that inexplicably gorgeous face. pale skin that would automatically show any trace of lip gloss or lipstick that he would have obtained by getting a bit too close while attempting to tease you. that allure that often times makes your head go numb before you're brought back to reality by another witty comment.

you were more than enthralled by him; you realised as you laid in bed a few nights ago.

now he just makes you nervous. why would he say that?

there is no love purer than his?

and it's all for you?

it all feels like too much.

he calls and you stare at the caller ID before choosing to nervously accept the call. not before you start a petty argument.

but even among his arrogance, and the chirp in his voice when he engages with you, he's still sickening sweet. slipping in how strongly he feels about you in between every other colourful retort of yours or so. gosh. could he not?

after you pathetically stutter through a smartass comment of yours, his amused chuckle has you fighting the urge to chuck your phone. so you just hang up instead. maybe you just need to go outside. that should calm you down.

the warm yet slightly humid summer night air hugs itself against your slightly trembling form, a small fire lit in your heart as you walk down the empty sidewalk in pyjamas.

no one is around. all the stores are closed. it's just you and the street lights as you murmur about all the things you don't like about him in an attempt to kill the light in your heart, this light giving you an odd sense of pleasure. to no avail, your rambling on seems to make the light grow. and a small buzz on your leg.

in your pocket.

he's calling again.

you stare at it this time. its like you think the loving feelings pouring from your pores will tap the accept button for you. this doesn't last long before you shake your head and put the phone back in your pocket. you continue walking, eyes kept on the sidewalk as you weigh the pro's and con's of accepting such feelings.

*thud* you've hit your head on something.

the familiar scent in your nostril already tells you what- more like who it is.

it's obvious he used his evol to just appear in front of you. or else you would have seen his shadow underneath the streetlight you're under before your forehead met his chest.

the mere thought of it being him before even seeing his face is enough to get your stomach to flip, so you flip yourself in the other direction. then he wraps his hand around your wrist but he never seems to forget to add the electrifying part.

your free hand twitches as he intertwined his beautiful fingers with yours, the linking of both your pointer fingers keeping you together.

the silence among the song of cicadas makes you bite your tongue, anticipating a smart, playful retort. and yet amidst your baited breath nothing.

your heart beats in your ears as his warmth lingers on your fingertips. the two linked fingers generating the most heat.

"gosh, would you stop tormenting me already?" you whisper.

"is that what you think this is?" his voice echoing in the street.

you're both silent for a moment. yet neither of you make a motion to separate the linked fingers.

"your love...in it's purest form..."

another silence.

"it belongs to you." he finishes

you turn to him, still staring at the pavement.

"my love....." you began.

he seems to be holding his breath as you fidget in front of him. you attempt to make your slippers overlap or something to that effect as your palms get sweaty.

"is just as pure as yours." you breathe out in something like a scoff.

even now you're trying to challenge him

"and i want you to have it."

 when you utter that last bit, you look him straight in the eyes.

he exhales and accepts it with no hesitation.

in his arms, where both your hearts tangle.

© syllikins 2024

[tgcg]

bad mouther, hole master

TG: kissing with tongue is gross as hell

CG: COME THE FUCK OFF IT.

TG: what

CG: I'M SAYING SHUT UP.

TG: oh

CG: IT'S NOT THAT WEIRD. IT'S LIKE THE NATURAL PROGRESSION OF REGULAR KISSING TO EVENTUALLY INCLUDE THAT. IF YOU HAD ANY SEMBLANCE OF ROMANCE GHOSTING THROUGH THE DEVOLVING REMNANTS OF YOUR THINKPAN YOU'D APPRECIATE WHAT IT BRINGS TO THE NUTRITION PLATFORM OF ANY CONSENTING CONCUPISCENT RELATIONSHIP!

TG: youre talking about it like its a goddamn military weapon or some shit

TG: some kinda scientific fuckin method to fondle a dudes mouth with your own mouth thats

TG: thats gross

TG: this isnt supposed to be a debate before fuckin congress on the pros and cons of getting your mack on

TG: its i would say a reasonably personal thing to react about and thats just my reaction man you dont gotta arbitrate it

TG: and like why the hell do they have to linger on it so long in these movies do they really want me to immerse myself in people necking each other that much

TG: roll the sounds around in my earholes like im swilling a fine fuckin wine

TG: well my professional opinion is that shit tastes and sounds mad gross and tbh i havent seen a single movie where it was close to being any kind of necessary

TG: its just a cringy waste of everyones time

CG: YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, AND I DISAGREE WITH EVERYTHING THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR IGNORANCE GASH, YOU LUMP OF TIGHT-LIPPED CLUELESSNESS.

TG: did you just homestar me

CG: FOR THE SAKE OF ARGUMENT, SINCE YOU'RE APPARENTLY DESPERATE TO START SHIT WITH ME RIGHT NOW: HAVE YOU EVER EVEN DONE IT?

TG: hell no

CG: THANK YOU FOR PROVING MY POINT.

TG: proving your point--

TG: bro have uh

TG: have YOU???

CG: EXCUSE ME? HAVE I WHAT?

TG: come on

TG: i walked into this stupid conversation with a fucking shovel and by god am i digging myself a damn hole big and wide enough for every dave across time to squeeze in so i might as well get cosy in this shit before we all start collectively shoving dirt in our mouths

TG: bet your ass im taking you down with me though

TG: grab your spade and get digging man

CG: GRAB MY WHAT????????

TG: just tell me

CG: ???????!!!!!!!!

TG: karkat

CG: NO!

TG: f-

CG: WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!!! WHAT PART OF "SHUT UP" DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND????

TG: wait no

TG: oh my god dude

TG: you can spin that shit all you want but you can do it the hell away from me

TG: i do not need to be hip to your weirdo foursquare fantasies

TG: patently not my business

CG: STOP RIGHT THERE. JUST SHUT IT. I AM PUTTING US OUT OF OUR MISERY RIGHT NOW. I AM CONDUCTING AN ACT OF MERCY ON THIS INSANE FUCKING CONVERSATION AND YOU ARE GOING TO ZIP YOUR LIPS AND TAKE IT.

CG: HERE IT IS: YOUR SINGLE OPPORTUNITY TO PRETEND YOU NEVER SAID THAT TO ME. I AM GOING TO FORGET YOU MADE A COMPLETE MOCKERY OF ME AND MY CULTURE THIS ONE TIME. AND LET YOU CONTINUE TO DIG YOUR STUPID, SHITTY HOLE.

CG: AND DAVE, I AM BEGGING YOU NOT TO WASTE IT.

CG: TO ANSWER YOUR SHOCKINGLY INAPPROPRIATE QUESTION, NO I HAVE NOT DONE IT.

CG: WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK.

CG: HAPPY?

TG: ……..

TG: way to defuse the situation solid work

TG: real gold star effort grabbin that lit wick and blowing on it

TG: ok first of all you asked me first so dont act like im the one being a weirdo about this

TG: second of all i didnt mean it like that and you know it

TG: THIRD of all what the hell was the point of engaging the knightly theatrics then if you cant even verify that shit

CG: WELL FUCK, SORRY DAVE! I GUESS I'M JUST A FUCKING ROMANCE ENTHUSIAST! I GUESS I GIVE A MAJOR SHIT ABOUT THE THING YOU'RE OPENLY MOCKING TO MY FACE! IS THAT SO IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO WRAP YOUR THOUGHT SPONGE AROUND?

CG: AND IT WAS COMPLETELY REASONABLE FOR ME TO ASK YOU THAT, YOU CONGEALED FETID NOOKSTAIN! MY STATUS ON THE MATTER HAS LITERALLY NOTHING TO DO WITH THE POINT EITHER OF US IS TRYING TO MAKE.

CG: TRY TO KEEP YOUR NUGBONE FROM CAVING IN ON ITSELF WHEN I DROP THIS BOMBSHELL: I'M ALLOWED TO HAVE OPINIONS ON THINGS I ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT, EVEN IF I HAVEN'T DONE THEM! I DON'T JUST GO TROUNCING THE FUCK ABOUT LOBBING MY UNFOUNDED OPINIONS AT PEOPLE LIKE I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING. UNLIKE SOMEONE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INVOLVED IN THIS CONVERSATION WE'RE HAVING RIGHT NOW!

TG: youre

CG: I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU BY THE WAY. THE SOMEONE IS YOU.

TG: oh gimme a break

TG: bro youre going apeshit over something you havent even done

TG: you know what that sounds like to me it sounds like an overcompensating fake fan who doesnt get any

TG: you heard of troll napoleon complex

CG: AT LEAST I ACTUALLY FORMED MY OPINION BASED ON CAREFUL CONSIDERATION --

TG: -- oh yeah i bet huh

CG: -- INSTEAD OF JUST BANKING ON NUBJERK --

TG: -- not a real thing you just said

CG: -- REACTIONS AND WRINKLING MY SNIFF NUB AT ANY SIGNS OF GENUINE PHYSICAL INTIMACY!

TG: stop saying nub

CG: YOU EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED BULGEWAD

TG: not too much worse than being a perpetual fountain of emotional diarrhea

CG: DON'T YOU DARE.

CG: DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO USE THAT AS A "GOTCHA", YOU--… YOU! FUCK!

TG: dude did you actually run out of insults

TG: okay this is getting concerning

TG: youre the international dude of verbal dunks

TG: that can not be happening

CG: AAGHRJRGHJRGRHJAGHRJGRHJAGRHJRGRHJRGRHRJR

TG: you cant run out of em youre like the ultimate peddler of hate

CG: YOU DON'T THINK I'M CRITICALLY AWARE OF THE HOOFBEASTSHIT I'M SPEWING NIGH FUCKING CONSTANTLY?! I AM PAINFULLY COGNIZANT OF HOW MORONIC EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS!!!!

TG: feel like ive done some damage here

CG: ESPECIALLY MYSELF!

TG: alright bud time to calm down

CG: YOU CALM DOWN!!!!

TG: okay whatever!

CG: WHATEVER!!!!!!!!

TG: jeez

…

TG: here

…

CG: UGH.

TG: yeah

TG: really glad stuff like this happens in private

CG: YEAH. SAME HERE.

CG: JEGUS, CAN WE GO BACK TO BEFORE WE HAD THIS CONVERSATION? I DON'T ASK YOU MANY FAVORS, SO SURELY YOUR SLURRY OF ILL-DEFINED TIME POWERS CAN ALLOW YOU TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT.

CG: JUST LIKE, WIPE THAT WHOLE THING OFF THE SLATE.

CG: LET'S START OVER. SAY, FIVE MINUTES AGO. HOW DOES THAT SOUND?

TG: what conversation?

CG: OKAY, GOTCHA.

[petermorwood]

I have a sword question, if I may. Or more of a sword confusion Im seeking clarification on.

In my mind a fantasy european standard sword (that obviously doesnt really exist, but like, when a knight or someone in a story has an unspecified sword), I always imaged a straight blade with a triangular tip, both edges sharp cutting edges.

Then at some point I learned about eg scimitars that have a cutting edge and a ...blunt edge?

I was looking at your recent addition to the post about the Turkish sword, where you distinguish between an inner cutting edge on a sword v an outer cutting edge.

And then Im thinking of those enormous zweihander types that are all about momentum and do those even need a particularly sharp edge? They seem in dnd parlance to be a bludgeoning weapon not for slashing.

And while Im asking, like. Rapiers are very stabby weapons, do they have sharp edges at all or judt a sharp point?

I guess my overall question culminates something like "what parts of swords are designed for what damage and why? Is there anything all swords have other than blade and handle like can they all be used for stabbing or do some have very blunt points etc? Is it a big deal for a sword to be double-edged, does that necessitate specific training? Whats up with different sword blades?"

I realise thats a pretty enormous question that might be unreasonable to ask. Im happy with whstever response you are or arent willing to give. Hope you have a good day :)

Sharp edge / blunt edge is the setup on any kitchen or table knife you've ever encountered, and being able to put a hand on the blunt "edge" - usually called the back of the blade - not only helps when mincing herbs or garlic, but also features in some techniques of swordplay.

Other techniques employed non-blade parts of the weapon, using the pommel like a mace and the crossguard like a pick-axe.

*****

Whether swords should be straight or curved, single- or double-edged, was an argument which continued as recently as the early 1900s.

The last swords issued to cavalry for combat use (modern parade swords don't count) were both remarkably similar designs, straight-bladed for thrusting, adopted by the UK in 1908...

...and the US in 1913.

There was, of course, strong opposition from those who insisted cavalry swords should be sabres curve-bladed for cutting instead.

Equally of course, both sides failed to notice - or ignored, since a certain kind of cavalry officer was only bright as regards boots, buckles and buttons - the uncomfortable fact that machine-guns and repeating rifles had made the whole ta-ran-ta-rah "cut them down with your swords, men!" cavalry charge an exercise in futility.

*****

D&D, unless they've considerably upped their accuracy game, isn't much of a reference for weapon realism.

"Enormous Zweihanders" and other big swords such as the Montante were a lot lighter and more nimble than they'd seem from reading an encumbrance chart.

They had their own techniques to take best advantage of length, leverage and momentum and were indeed sharp. Given a choice between a sharp combat weapon and a blunt one, sharp makes far more sense.

In addition, a sharp blade is lighter than a blunt one simply through having less metal. It may only be a few grams of difference, but it IS a difference.

That's also the reason behind a fuller, the groove(s) along a blade.

They're not "blood gutters", tough and cool though that may sound, but a way to reduce a sword's weight while preventing its blade from getting excessively flexible.

Finally...

The re-enactor is wearing half-armour, but these big swords were also meant for use against unarmoured opponents. Bodyguards often carried them (they looked impressive) and those sweeping strokes could block an entire street while The Boss got away.

That's when an ability to cut rather than merely bludgeon makes all the difference. Determined assassins might try to rush a blunt sword, but a sharp one would give anyone second thoughts...

*****

Double-edged swords versus single-edged ones seem to vary depending on cultural preference - also on period of history and intended function.

Bronze Age European swords had straight or leaf-shaped blades with double edges...

...while Ancient Egypt had the curved, single-edged khopesh, a shape which also turned up in Ancient Assyria (this one's in the Metropolitan Museum, New York USA).

It's listed as a "sickle sword", an incorrect term which I wish would go away because sickles are sharp on the inside of the curve while swords like this - their grip-shape shows how they're meant to be held and swung - are sharp on the outside.

And just when "the Ancient Middle East used curved single-edge swords" looks like a handy generalisation, along come straight swords, one from Ancient Egypt...

...another from Luristan, now part of modern Iran.

This next one comes from Ancient Iberia (Spain), right at the other side of the Mediterranean. Evidence of trading links? Your guess is as good as mine.

Iberia went on to use the falcata, a short single-edged forward-curved sword.

Those extra bits round the blade are scabbard metalwork; the wood and leather scabbard is long gone. This repro shows how they would have looked when in place.

Iberia also used a straight double-edged sword which so impressed the Romans that they adopted it, refined it and used it for several centuries. Here's one of the several Roman versions of that gladius Hispaniensis (Spanish sword), double-edged, mostly meant for stabbing but capable of very effective cuts as well.

Here's my repro of a similar sword, the elegant "Mainz" pattern with its long point and waisted blade. Very pretty, and pretty wicked.

*****

"Curved single-edged swords are Eastern, straight double-edged swords are Western", is another generalisation that won't work.

Here are Eastern straight swords...

...and Western curved ones.

*****

Viking swords were all double-edged...

...except when they weren't.

*****

Many rapiers could cut. Smallswords, which came later, couldn't.

Earlier rapiers with broader blades cut better than later ones with narrow blades, but IIRC even the later Italian and Spanish rapier styles include cuts directed at the opponent's face and sword-arm.

I have a notion that the modern thing about cutting with rapiers is based (like back-carry) on seeing it done in movies. IMO - more about it here - that's actually more a modern stage-combat safety thing than a period real-combat move. A fumbled cut is bruising and unpleasant even with a "safe" prop sword, but a fumbled thrust into the eye-socket or throat with that same "safe" sword can be fatal.

Even those early rapiers wouldn't sever a head or limb - a finger maybe, hence the elaborate hand-protection of swept and cup hilts - but blood from a forehead wound running into the eyes was, and in boxing still is, an efficient way to finish a fight by ensuring the opponent can't continue. One of the duels in "The Duellists" ends this way.

This example is a bit optimistic, IMO...

...but a longsword (double-edged)...

...or a messer (single-edged)...

...was quite capable of disarming an opponent in a very literal way.

*****

Some swords had minimal points, being intended mostly for cutting. One example of this is the Indian khanda broadsword. The second example is also very clearly single-edged.

Another cut-only sword without a point (but with double edges) is the Richtschwert (justice sword)...

...though this was a single-function (and hopefully single-cut) tool rather than weapon, neither balanced for nor intended for combat.

Hope this has helped answer the questions!

[amournoir]

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

pairing: sarah cameron x f!reader

count: 3.6k

warning: smut [boob play, scissoring, toys, oral receiving & giving, language?]

author’s note: continuation of ‘firsts’, idk where this is going so we’ll see. have fun reading & remember this is 21+! 💋

It had been a week since you last saw Sarah and almost two weeks since you two had been in the same room alone. It wasn’t as though you were ignoring her, she just became busy with the pogues which brought us to today. Sarah had invited you and Kiara over for a girls night. You didn’t suspect anything aside from the usual gossip, skincare, mani/pedis, etc. that took place at every girls night. Except this would be the first time you hung out with Kiara alone. She was always wrapped up in the guys or some ‘save the planet’ shit so you only saw her in passing, never private. 

After you finished packing your bag, you grabbed your silk pajamas and towel then headed for the shower. During sleepovers, you and Sarah normally took showers at the house but you didn’t know if the norm for you and Sarah would be the same with Kiara included. Once you had unbraided your hair, you hopped in your shower and let the hot water relax you. Twenty minutes later and you were out, drying yourself then oiling then dressing. You pulled your freshly washed hair in a bun, no need to dry since it did so by itself. With your bag fully packed and you clean, you slipped on your uggs slippers and grabbed your phone as you headed downstairs. 

Your mom waited in the car as you double checked everything and then you two were off. It took less than ten minutes to get to her house but you refused to walk or heaven forbid, bike there— in your pajamas. Your mom waved at you goodbye and you returned it, turning around to knock rapidly on the front door. A minute or two later, Rafe opened up with a confused look. 

“Hey Y/N. Why are you here?” 

You furrowed your brows, “The sleepover, what else?” 

“Sarah didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” 

He scratched the back of his neck as he often does when he’s uncomfortable. “She and Kiara had some sort of fight so she canceled.” 

Before I could say anything, he quickly added, “But you’re her best friend so I doubt she’d cancel on you.” 

I looked up in the direction of the stairs and pointed. “Can I go up and check?” 

“Yeah, yeah sure.” He closed the front door and locked it. 

Before he could walk away, I asked, “If it is, could you drop me home?” 

“Of course Y/N.” He smiled and walked away to some other part of the house as I headed up the stairs. 

When I got closer to her room, it was the very last one in the long hallway, I could hear music. Her door was closed but the music drowned out the sound of me opening it. I leaned against the frame as I watched her bob her head around with her headphones in. I stood there for a minute or more then decided to interrupt. I waved my hand in front of me and that’s when her head perked up. 

“Y/N! You’re here!” She exclaimed, taking out one earbud. 

“Yeah but I probably shouldn’t be. Apparently tonight is canceled?” I asked with a raised brow. 

“Oh that. Yeah, kinda.” This was unlike her, she always had an explanation. 

I crossed my hands over my chest and waited. She stared at me, sighed then removed the other earbud and turned her phone off. She fixed her posture and sat crisscrossed, patting the space in front of her on the bed. I closed the door behind me, dropping my bag on the floor near the foot of the bed then sat down with one leg dangling off the edge. 

Sarah explained that it was meant to be a girls night but she and Kiara got into an argument, as Rafe had mentioned. Apparently Kiara didn’t want me to hangout with the guys because, in her words, ‘one kook is enough’. That didn’t make any sense considering she was a kook as well but that was the argument. Sarah pointed out that we had been friends since childhood and I knew the guys, there wasn’t a reason why I couldn’t hang out with all of them but Kiara didn’t want another kook. Sarah thought this sleepover would bring Kiara and I closer but the moment she found out, she refused to come, hence why Sarah canceled it. 

I was aware that Kiara wasn’t a fan of me but she had no reason why. She didn’t know me, only knew of me from others. The thing that bothered me the most was her calling me a kook as if she was a pogue. Anyways, there was no love lost. I just knew I had to steer clear of her, I couldn’t force the girl to be my friend but I was hoping to be cordial though.  

“Don’t worry about her Y/N. I spoke to the guys and they’re down to hang without Kie.” Sarah assured me. 

I let out a soft scoff, “Pope would never, maybe JJ or John B sometimes.” 

“Yeah, he’ll be hard to convince but whatever. It’s girls night so what do you say about spending it without her?” 

I shrugged and said, “I’m cool with it. More fun for us!” 

“Rightttt…speaking of fun…” Sarah trailed off. 

“Oh no.” 

“I haven’t said anything yet!” 

“Sarah, whenever you start dragging your words, you have something planned.” 

She huffed, “Guilty.” She added quickly with a smirk, “Butttt, I promise you’ll like it.” 

“What is it?” 

Her face broke out in a wide grin, “Promise to keep an open mind?” 

“Now I’m nervous.” 

“No, don’t be! It’s fun!” 

I let out a small chuckle, “So then tell me, what is it?” 

“First close your eyes and remain seated.” 

And just like that my smile went away. What on earth could she possibly be up to this time?! I knew I wouldn’t get any answers out of her so I agreed and closed my eyes. She got off the bed, walked toward her closet or was it her bathroom? I couldn’t tell but before she returned to the bed, she went to her door and locked it. I could hear her footsteps coming back towards me then the bed dipped and she sat in front of me. 

“Okay now open.” 

I opened one eye at a time but nothing in the room looked different. There was a box in front of me however, it was just a medium sized black delivery package. I stared at it then looked up at her then down at the box again. Was it an animal? Drugs? Expensive alcohol to hide from Rafe and Ward? 

“It’s a box. I don’t get it.” 

She smiled and slowly opened it. There were three smaller packages inside, also in black but they had different shapes. One by one, Sarah carefully unwrapped them as she paid close attention to my reaction. At first I furrowed my brows in confusion but the second it hit me, I gasped then stared in surprise and curiosity. 

“Tell me you didn’t.” 

“I did. Y/N I so did!” 

“Does anyone know?” 

“Nope. I’ve been watching the mailman like a hawk the past week.” 

“Where’d you even get them?” 

“Online. They have a return policy in case I don’t like it.” 

“Do you?” 

“I dunno. I haven’t tried it yet.” 

I raised one brow and asked, “Will you?” 

“Yeah…” She started then continued, “…if you try it with me.” 

I accidentally let out a laugh, “Sarah I’ve never used them!” 

“So let’s do it together! What are best friends for?” 

“I don’t think normal best friends share sex toys.” 

“Well that’s because they’re boring. Besides I like playing with you, we shared toys when we were younger.” 

I fully let out a laugh, “Sarah, barbie dolls and dildos aren’t the same thing!” 

“So you don’t want to?” She pouted slightly. 

“I didn’t say that but…I might be convinced into it.” 

Sarah smirked and before I knew what was happening, she unbuttoned her pajama top slowly. She shrugged it off her shoulders and sat there, staring at me. She had nothing underneath so for a while, we both sat in silence as I ogled at her boobs. Slowly, she cupped both breasts in her hands and rubbed them against each other. Her fingers brushed over her nipples and a faint moan left her lips. 

I licked my own and looked up at her, all she did was nod. Without a word spoken between us, I reached forward and fondled them in my hands. They were so full and warm. I bounced them around, enjoying watching them sway in different directions. I lowered my head and took one boob in my mouth, it tasted just how I remembered it. I was too greedy though, I wanted the other in my mouth as well so I tried stuffing them. This made Sarah moan. I suckled on them like a baby, eyes fully closed as I immersed myself fully into it. 

After a while, I pulled away and looked down at them. They were red with bite marks and saliva all over, I felt quite proud. I quickly reached down my own shirt and pulled it over my head, leaving my naked chest exposed to her. As if we were thinking the same thing, we both grinded our chests against each other. Her wet sticky boobs rubbed against mine, the body heat turning us on even more. We pulled apart and wordlessly, stood up and took our pajama bottoms off along with the underwear. 

I got back on the bed and spread my legs apart, Sarah sat in front of me and widened her legs as well. She spit into her hand and wiped it on my cunt then on her own. She inched closer until I could feel her cunt against mine, she looked at me as though to ask for permission and I nodded my head. The moment our pussies touched, I let out a moan. We were both very warm and wet. I lowered my head slightly and spit in between us. Sarah moved her hips first then I followed, we continued until we reached a good pace. 

The squelching noises of our pussies rubbing against each other was doing it for me. I grinded even harder against her, our boobs practically slapping each other but we didn’t care. We just wanted to reach our high regardless of the lewd noises. This went on for a bit until suddenly she shook. I saw this as my opportunity to take charge so I did. I easily pushed her down until she was laying flat on the bed on her back then I swung my leg over and adjusted myself. I lifted her leg up and held onto it for support as I rode her pussy. 

Sarah could do nothing but lay down and take it, she reached up to slap my ass but otherwise, she praised me to go on. I no longer cared for her needs, I just wanted to cum. I was determined to ride her until I got my fill and even more after. I could feel myself tensing up and right on time, she shook again. Mere moments later, she squirted right on my pussy and I came on hers. In the heat of the moment, I licked up her leg, kissing and sucking different spots. 

“Fuck Y/N, that was so hot!” She exclaimed, a wide grin on her face. 

“Right? Shit that squirt made me cum more.” 

“You like that baby? You like when I squirt on you?” 

“So fucking much.” I bit my lip as I peered over at the toys. “How about I do it again?” 

Sarah smiled and gave my ass a light tap. I got off of her as she reached for a light purple, almost lavender, two-sided dildo. She sat up and looked at me then placed the toy over my lips. I obeyed immediately and opened my mouth, making sure to stick out my tongue. She inserted the dildo slowly then pushed it to the back of my throat, pulled it out and did it again. I had a gag reflex so each time I would gag on it then cough. She kept repeating it several times until I no longer coughed but still gagged. 

“Aww you look so pretty baby. Taking all that purple cock in your throat.” She cooed. 

I couldn’t respond so I just nodded. 

“Can’t speak? Too busy choking on my cock?” 

My eyes started to water, she was going a bit rougher now. Saliva was dripping down my chin. 

“What a pretty whore. She likes cocks and tribbing and boobs. Do you want me to fuck your mouth?” 

I nodded quickly as my pussy clenched on thin air from her words. I was a good whore for her. I liked being fucked with a purple dildo. I liked stuffing her boobs in my mouth. Yes, I was a whore for Sarah Cameron. 

“Okay baby but first I want you to beg for it.” Sarah replied as she pulled the whole dildo out. 

I gasped at the fresh air, my eyes already blurry. “Please mommy, fuck my mouth. I promise to be a good girl for you.” 

“Mm that’s a nice start but I want more.” 

“I’ll let you fuck both holes mommy but now I just wanna suck.” 

Sarah smiled and bit her lip excitedly. She tapped my mouth again and I opened once more. I was sitting on my knees but I leaned forward in excitement. With my boobs dangling about, Sarah shoved the dildo deeper into my throat and used her free hand to pinch my nipples. She slapped them around and commanded ‘bounce’ so I did. I made my tits bounce around for her as I choked on the cock. I felt very whore-like and I actually liked it. 

Before I got too into it, she immediately pulled it out and simply said ‘bend over’ which I did as well. On all fours, I stared at the floor length mirror in front of me and saw my reflection. Sarah had situated herself behind me, rubbing my cunt as I waited with legs wide open for her. She spit on my ass and it dripped down to my pussy, my body instinctively clenched and she chuckled. 

Sarah rubbed one of the heads of the dildo against my cunt then slowly inserted it. I had never had anything inside me so the feeling was very odd and uncomfortable as hell. I let out slow deep breaths and Sarah soothed my back. She went very slowly, only continuing when I would nod. Minutes later, I was relaxed and my pussy ached for more. I wiggled my ass a bit and she smiled, gave it a slap then pushed the dildo deeper. 

She would push it in then out then twist it back in and so on. This went on for a while until I was seconds away from coming but she’d stop. Each time she’d deny me release, I’d whine and she would push it back in again. The edging was beautifully painful. 

“For a first timer, you’re taking this cock so well baby.” 

“Please let me cum.” 

“Only if I fuck that thick ass too.” 

I lowered my chest to the bed and raised my ass up, “Fuck me mommy.” 

“Mm just like that baby. Keep that ass up for me.” 

I waited until I felt the other head of the dildo enter. Somehow it was less uncomfortable than my pussy. I nodded and she pushed more of the length inside. Now both of my holes were filled and the thought just drove me wild. Sarah used both hands to fuck me, one fucked my pussy and the other my ass. I was nothing but a moaning mess, begging for more. 

The sight of myself from the mirror was what made me squirt so much, it didn’t just hit the bed but also her chest. She laughed and fucked me even faster, I didn’t think I could cum again but I did. She removed the one in my ass and I thought my turn was done but instead she stuck her tongue in and licked whilst shoving the dildo deeper in my pussy. She spat into my ass and on my cunt as she kept on mercilessly drilling that dildo deeper and faster. I let out a loud scream as my entire body shook, went limp for a few seconds, then came on the cock. She pulled it out too fast, I moaned at its exit but her mouth was on my pussy to suck my cum. She ate me out for a moment then pressed a kiss and pulled away. 

“Holy shit Y/N! It was like a freaking waterfall.” She sat back on the bed and licked her lips. “Tasty though.” 

I laid on my stomach for a few minutes without saying a word then turned around and sat up. “Careful, fuck me like that again and you’ll ruin me.” 

“That’s the plan baby. You’re all mine.” She smiled and spread her legs apart, patting on her cunt. “Now fuck mommy too.” 

I took the dildo from her hand and asked, “Is it your first time too?” 

She nodded, “Yeah so please gentle first.” 

“I promise…” I started then finished, “…to ruin you too.” 

Before she could respond, I spread her pussy lips open then with a mouthful of saliva, I spit into the hole. I put the dildo inside slowly but it went in quite easily thanks to my spit in her pussy. I looked at her and she smiled so I pushed deeper a bit then pulled out. I pushed it in again and went deeper, I kept repeating these actions whilst spitting to keep her wet. Her pussy was so greedy, it happily swallowed the cock deeper. 

I now started to fuck her with it, slowly at first but when she begged for faster, I was unforgiving. I pounded that silicone purple cock into her wet needy pink walled pussy until she moaned endlessly for me. I put the other end in my mouth and fucked her that way instead, I bobbed my head faster and faster, equally fucking her and me. I was choking on it but I couldn’t stop, the sight of her cum dripping down the cock spurred me on. I sucked and fucked with all my strength but before I could move, she accidentally squirted and it got on my face. 

I pulled my mouth away with a loud gasp but I wasn't ready to end it yet. With half the dildo still inside Sarah, I got up and squatted as I slowly lowered myself onto the other half. She was propped against the pillows whilst I was now sitting on top of her, the two-sided dildo in both of us. I grabbed my own boobs and played with them as I rode her. I switched between grinding on the cock and bouncing on it, Sarah encouraged me, telling me how pretty I looked fucking her. We continued fucking each other for a long while, i simply enjoyed the feeling of a cock inside me so I prolonged it. Sarah and I each came twice but I kept riding and she begged for me to stop. 

“No, I want to keep riding.” 

“Please! I can’t cum anymore Y/N.” 

“But I like seeing you filled to the brim.” 

“Fuck Y/N, don’t say that.” 

“You like that? Wanna hear me say how full you look? How your hole is stuffed and your cunt is covered with our cum?” 

“Keep going, I’ll cum again.” 

“That’s it mommy. Cum on my pretty pussy. Look at your big tits bouncing around.” 

“Please keep going.” 

I reached down and gathered a bit of the cum then wiped it on her lips. I lowered my head and kissed her, my hips grinding forcefully against hers. She was quick to suck my bottom lip in so we tongued each other. Our boobs were slipping and sliding around, our cunts were squelching, it was all so hot. She came again and moaned into my mouth, we both cummed against each other but we also squirted. I pulled away and continued to ride slowly until I was satisfied and came to a stop. 

I lifted myself off of her and removed the dildo. I looked at Sarah with a satisfied smile. She pushed me back gently and brought her head to my cunt. With small kitten-like licks, she cleaned me up and sucked softly. I closed my eyes and slowly grinded on her lips, she continued until suddenly when I felt something else at my entrance. I opened my eyes and peered down to see her trying to fit her boob into my pussy. I chuckled and she quickly looked up at me, she reached me with a slow crawl. Sarah laid on top of me then placed her nipples on my mouth. 

“Be a good girl and clean mommy’s tits, they’re covered in your cum baby.” She instructed while holding onto her breasts. 

“Yes mommy, I love your boobs.” I said before sucking on one nipple then switching to the other. I continued doing this until Sarah was satisfied. 

We decided on getting cleaned up so while she changed her sheets, I went to her bathroom and started the shower. I came back and she was ready, we went to the shower together where we kissed once more and she inserted the dildo in me and sat on my lap as she rode it. All I could think of at the moment was thank goodness Kiara wasn’t here. I’d have missed out on fucking Sarah senseless and vice versa. Maybe Kiara just needed a good fuck too.

🏷️ taglist:

⤷ @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @hellotvshowtrash @onlyfreds @onlyfredslibrary @imgoingtofreakoutnow @slinthoex @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @softcoremaybank @klaustopia @dreamingwithrafe @sweetestdesire @cottontears @cottonreads @buckyysdoll @spnandtvdudeservedbetter @impossibleheartflower @madetragic @spike-and-angels-gf

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[yesimwriting]

Okay, so, secretly pining best friends with Logan! Very fun! Loved it!

But also, adults do have "sleepovers," (too tired/drunk/late to drive home, so you crash overnight on the couch) and depending on the dynamic of your friendship, can actually be a little taste of what domestic life would be like together. Just. Sitting together quietly, winding down from a good day, then getting ready for bed when one of you decides it's time to be A Responsible Adult and get a decent night's sleep (you're not kids anymore, after all. Sleep is important).

Waking up in the morning, knowing your best friend is here. Quietly making breakfast together, laughing over how sleepy you both are before coffee, lightly teasing each other over bed head and morning breath. Doing your morning routines together, pointing out stupid shit in the news or bitching over work emails, just drawing out the time before you have to get ready to face the real world.

Imagine Logan being one of those sleepy bear types who grumbles until he fully wakes up, who's soft and warm and domestic when he's with someone he trusts. Also, I imagine that if you tease him about needing to shave in the morning, he'd be the type to chase you down and rub his scruffy face on you in revenge, which is basically how a scruffy guy marks you as his. (His best friend? His potential future partner? No, just his in general.)

a/n yes, a hundred percent yes to all of this

----

The soft glow of the bedside lamp has transported you into another world. A universe made up of the faint scent of detergent and the feel of warm bedding beneath your fingertips.

You blink. There's no reason to feel as drowsy as you do, not when Logan's spent the last ten minutes scolding you. Still, though, something about sitting at the foot of his bed makes it easy to give into your lingering haze. It'd be easy to fall asleep like this.

"Don't," the instruction is flat, "Stay awake."

His back is still to you, which means there's no harm in openly frowning. "I am."

Logan's sigh is nearly masked by the gentle groan of a drawer being pushed shut. He turns around, expression still pinched but much less irritated than before. "Barely." You part your lips, some nonsensical protest waiting on the tip of your tongue, but Logan beats you to it, "Here."

He's extending an arm, a piece of fabric clutched loosely between his fingers. You blink again, this time focusing on the weight of your eyelids. The gesture is such a sharp contrast from his earlier attitude, you're nearly overwhelmed by your whiplash.

You stand before accepting the T-shirt. "Thought you were mad at me."

He lets out a breath, the sound sharp enough to constitute a warning. "I'm not--" His gaze shifts towards the ground. "You should have called me."

This again. "I was fine." His eyebrows draw together with the same level of offense that he used when you first presented this argument. "And I wasn't even alone, I was with Jean and Scott." He scoffs. "And you said to call you if anything went wrong, and nothing did."

Logan walks forward slowly, his steps measured until he's close enough to fully deteriorate your already fragile train of thought. In an attempt to regain control, you lift your head to look him in the eye. He frowns as he raises a hand, his fingers coming to rest beneath your chin.

He's careful as he tilts your head back. There's a weight to his silence. "You're drunk." All you can think to do is blink. He's known this, it's the main reason he's been lecturing you since the couple that graciously allowed you to third wheel all night dropped you off. "You're unreliable."

"Not that drunk."

The correction doesn't ease him. He studies you for another long moment before releasing you with a tired sigh. Maybe you should take it easy on him. It's not his fault he has the heart and patience of someone that's lived two centuries. You sigh. "Fine, next time I go out, I'll wake you up to come get me, even if I'm totally okay."

He ignores your sarcasm with expert ease. "Knew you'd get it, Princess."

You squeeze the T-shirt's fabric between your fingers in an attempt to ignore the warmth threatening to crawl up your neck. "I'm full of understanding."

"Yeah," he mumbles flatly, turning away from you as he walks towards his bed. You watch him with an openness that a more sober you would have never gotten away with. Logan had come to the door in a pair of loose sweats and no shirt. It had been easy to ignore his appearance when you were still in the giggly stages of being drunk. "Go change."

An instinctual desire to argue almost has you protesting, but you are tired of your going out clothes. And the thought of getting to pass out in Logan's bed for a few hours isn't exactly unappealing.

You pull the T-shirt over your head. Logan says your name, but you're too focused on adjusting the hemline to react. The shirt's large enough to cover most of your upper thigh, falling only an inch or two above the dress you're wearing. You slip the dress's straps off of your shoulders before reaching beneath the shirt's loose fabric. You tug at the dress's zipper before slipping the material down your legs.

You pick up the discarded fabric, folding the dress before placing it on top of Logan's dresser. He's uncharacteristically quiet as you approach the available side of his bed. "You seem tired."

He leans towards his nightstand, arm stretching outwards to turn of his bedside lamp. His eyes settle on some point a little past your shoulder. "Not all of us are 20-somethings that can stay up all night."

It's a teasing comment, likely an attempt at preemptively limiting your usual 10 to 15 minutes of yapping before actually attempting to fall asleep, but it digs at you. Jean was the one that insisted on letting Logan babysit you, you wanted to let him sleep. "I didn't want to wake you up."

Logan shifts, his bent leg nearly brushing against yours. "I wasn't asleep," the words are low, careful, "But if I had been--you wake me up." He pauses. "I'd rather that than know you're walking around drunk and looking like that."

An uneasy heat spreads through your chest. You focus on the bedding pooled over your lap. Like that--the kind of comment that'd usually have you insulting the person making it for attempted slut shaming. But Logan's voice is too distant for you to find any insult in it, even in a teasing context.

You bend fabric between your fingers, pressing the nail of your thumb into the material. You nod once.

He shifts towards you, his warmth becoming impossible to ignore beneath shared bedding. "I sleep better like this anyway."

The words are uncharacteristically soft, almost cautious. You lean into the feeling of them, allowing your back to relax against a pillow.

You've shared a bed with Logan before, usually after hanging out with him a little too late and once on a mission where you had to pretend to be recently engaged to avoid blowing your cover. It's not exactly common, but you know how he sleeps enough to know that he's not exaggerating. As soon as he's asleep, he loses the ability to be aware of personal space, an arm across your waist and chin pressed into your shoulder.

"Considering the way you take up the entire bed, I'm sure."

He exhales, the sound more pointed than it needs to be. "You steal blankets."

You scoff. "That's so not true." The corner of his mouth pulls itself upwards, the look much too triumphant. What a lame argument--you don't steal blankets, you're not given a chance to. As soon as Logan's on you, it's nearly impossible to move. "Like I can steal blankets out from under your adamantium skeleton."

Logan tilts his head, eyes narrowing in a way that promises nothing good. "You're saying I'm heavy."

Well, when framed like that, anything can sound rude. "No." You press your lips together to keep from laugh. "I"m saying your skeleton is literally made of metal..." You straighten in an attempt to make yourself focus. "...And metal is--" Your mental hold slips, a soft laugh tumbling past your lips as you try to think of a politically correct way to make your point. "...Heavy."

He leans forward, his knee brushing against your leg. There's a tact to his movement, a deliberateness better suited for the violence of the outside world. A warning, you realize, a moment too late.

Logan shifts his weight. You laugh as his hands find a place on each of your shoulders. "That's the same thing."

Helplessly, you press a palm against his chest. Your halfhearted protests do nothing to sway him. You laugh again, elbow pressing into the mattress in an attempt to steady yourself. Logan moves a hand to the back of your head before letting the brunt of his weight fall onto you.

You let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a squeal as you're pushed down. Your head hits the pillow, but the suddenness of the motion doesn't hurt. His forearm is resting near your head, turning him into more of an implication than an actual force capable of crushing you.

You let yourself smile openly. For someone that's always willing to remind you of his age, he has no problem acting like a child. Your lips part, but the laugh attempting to crawl up your throat dies before it can slip out.

Logan's watching you, his eyebrows drawn together in a way you can't interpret. His warmth, the feel of him against you, all of it, loses its humor.

He stays like that for what could be awhile, or no time at all. Then, Logan shifts, his arm moving away from the side of your head. Before you can overthink the change, he's resting his head against your upper stomach.

He's--there's never been this much openness about physical contact. Sure, you guys are comfortable with each other, with you having no issue resting your head against his shoulder during movies or reaching for his hand after a particularly rough mission, but that's--that's usually you.

You force yourself to recover, focusing on your breathing to keep from outing yourself. With the kind of care you'd use to keep from scaring off a skittish stray, you move a hand towards his back. He briefly stiffens as you drag your fingers against his skin, but after a second, he exhales. "You're like a house cat."

You feel Logan's sigh more than you hear it. "I'm not answering that." That's okay. You're happy enough without his validation.

Things stay quiet, and you slip further into the realm between sleep and consciousness. "You--you're um--okay, right?" The question is stiff, maybe even a little awkward. You're so close to sleep, you can't bring yourself to get what he's asking. "Comfortable?"

You're glad to not have to hide your smile. "Yeah," you mumble, voice distant, "It's nice."

You're not sure what you're referencing, but Logan doesn't ask, so you decide it doesn't really matter.

----

The light is a tangible thing, felt against your skin before you can squint your eyes open to see it.

You shift, noting the dull ache of your head as you lift your hand to wipe at your face. Wait.

It comes back to you all at once--the drinking, the after drinking, Logan.

You open your eyes fully. It's instinct to shift, but it's nearly impossible to do much more than lift your head. Logan's asleep, his head resting against your ribs and arm draped over your waist. How did you not notice this?

It would make sense for Logan to be a light sleeper. Even when he's at ease, he never seems fully settled in the feeling. So you're careful as you move, head turning as you try to look at him.

Logan's breathing loses its consistency before you can fully embrace the privacy. His fingers press into your hip so briefly you almost convince yourself the contact is only a product of your early morning haze.

He moves onto his back, palm brushing against your shirt as he leaves you. "Morning, princess."

There's something comforting about hearing his voice first thing in the morning. "Good morning." The words are a little raspier than you thought they'd be, difficult to force out around your hazy discomfort.

The corner of Logan's mouth pulls itself upwards. "I thought 20-somethings didn't get hangovers."

You roll your eyes. There are a lot of aspects of Logan's personality that warrant old man jokes, but his alcohol tolerance isn't one of them. You roll onto your side, propping your head up on one elbow. "I'm not hungover."

The almost-smile grows into something more assured. You let yourself enjoy the easiness of it. "Sure you're not, bub." The response is so warm you have to work at keeping your halfhearted pout.

Logan shifts, the mattress dipping as he sits up. "C'mon." He turns his head, looking at you from over his shoulder. "You'll feel better after you eat something."

The mention of food makes you aware of a hollowness you hadn't yet noticed. The thought of breakfast feels perfectly settling. You sit up with a smile, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "You're not gonna make me eat weird hangover cures, are you?"

He pushes himself to stand. "You're going to have to take that chance."

There's no humor in his tone, and his back is to you so you can't read his expression, but something tells you it's safe to follow him out of his room, anyway.

[scarefox]

Haven't watched anything KristSingto recently but he's right

You can think of fanservice what you want. But the moment you want to police or censor it, it turns into something really problematic. And this stance comes from 2 or even 3 different oppinioned sides but they ironically melt into the same outcome.

But at the end of the day most people forget / ignore, regardless of anything, fanservice still helps normalising public queer affection. And let's be real, most of the stuff in those stage and event shows are that... a show or even a performance! Do you protest at your local theater when they have queer characters kissing? Do you notice how this sounds in a sentence? Yes actors are real people and not characters but especially BL actors & idols still perform stage shows and kind of have a public enertainer persona. You notice how different they are on stage vs. in their personal live streams + nowadays most actors are even very honest about just doing fs for show & fun and often genuine (platonic) affection towards their acting partner but don't pretend to be actual dating (and the ones who do will most likely not lightheartedly come out with it like that... apparently there are exceptions but I have not enough insight on them to judge). You should watch some serious interviews or live stream (translations) of your favs now and then maybe to learn more about them and the industry, they are more than just pretty faces... Actors in just my bubble who talked open about the fanservice topic as far as legally possible at least: JamesSu, Perth Nakhun and I guess we can count Pavel and Nut as well.

What fans make out of it is a whole different story.... and one of the reasons people want to shut down fanservice as a whole. But imagine how lighthearted, fun and easy going this whole thing could be if we didn't had all these toxic naive fans who think every interaction is proof of actors dating (or worse: cheating) in RL. That mindset of "we are BL fans of course we are delulu" is not a joke anymore among some of them. They srsly take pride in that... babes you are part of the problem, stop encouraging it!

Then on the other side, being critical of some of the practices of the industry is one thing but it should not lead into backwards queer censoring... but that's what some are swaying to with their "real people queerbait" agenda or getting the cringes when (samesex) people interact romantically or erotically during live events (that's a bit of a you thing my dears. not necessarily in a queerphobic way but in a purity / shy way and that is a you problem to deal with not anyone elses problem)....

And a lot of people don't even understand or get what most people criticise about fanservice and just jump onto the ban-fanservice train. Without understanding the nuances nor the actual industry circumstances. Like one main argument here isn't even true. Lot of people assume actors get forced into fs. Which is not true (source: one of Perth Nakhuns Q&A vids, the 2. vid i think). BL actors usually know what they get into by entering the industry, decide with eo how much they want to do. Now that can still cause internal personal conflicts like one going over board or not playing enough but that's human miscommunication. Or companies can still be bastards but it's unfair to generalise it over the whole industry when we nowadays have companies who give their actors that freedom.

There are still some points to criticise, definitely. Like I personally dislike how MCs and sponsors sometimes treat actors during events or how fans scream at every little move or glance like crazy.... But the topic is a bit more nuanced (as always in this world) than how most people look at it. I just mean it really always sticks out when you talk with people about their reasons why they are anti fanservice that they just repeat after another with no sources or without actual up to date information or only look at it from one side.

I personally am in the middle. I only like fs when the actors have fun with it and are transparent about it. In the end it comes down to actors consent what they want to give to the audience (reason why it annoys me when people write "i feel like i am interrupting something here / am intuding their privacy" the actors consented! they want you to watch if you want to see it! consent babes! it is fine)

(when i see someone coming in with "but Krist is a homophobe" I will bite you. I am not even his fan and already researched what happened back then when I first saw those accusations when I got into BL 2021ish. It is really not that hard to look up the source and reports of people who were live pressent at the time to understand what went down back then. Ya know instead of believing rumors that twist and lie for rage bait)

[breeyn]

An essay rebutting the “bad writing” claims of s2 ofmd. Spoilers herein.

I’ll preface this with saying you’re obviously allowed to like and dislike whatever you want. I am in no way opposing that. And your reasons are your reasons. Have at. (Also - this is a collection of observations from the past few days, I’m not calling anyone out)

I AM going to rebut the idea that season two was poorly written and lost the spirit of what the show is about.

My favourite movie of all time is Empire Strikes Back. It’s been my favourite movie since I was four. I’m pretty sure it’s a fave of David Jenkins, too. He and Taika have made absolutely no attempt to hide their love of all things 80’s - Prince, the Princess Bride, Kate Bush, Star Wars, etc.

I have ancient video tapes (that I can’t play because who has a vcr) where Lucas is interviewed by Leonard Maltin? Malkin? I dunno. Who cares. Maltin asks him about the Star Wars (original trilogy) story arc. Lucas says “in act I, you introduce all the characters. In act II, you put them in a situation they can’t get out of, and in act III, they get out of it.”

That’s how it works. This is how stories and literary structures work.

Of course you’re not satisfied with season two. You’re not supposed to be.

The arguments I have read on why s2 loses the spirit of s1 is because no one heals. No one learns anything. No one moves forward properly. The person who makes the biggest move towards healing dies. The two main characters end the show doing the exact fucking thing they had promised themselves and each other they wouldn’t do. Our romantic lead still doesn’t understand his value or make any headway on addressing his tragic flaw. It makes no goddamn sense.

My gremlins in weird: it’s not supposed to. In Act 2, EVERYONE LOSES. This is how it goes.

I’ve read a lot of people saying “but this felt like a series finale, not a season finale.” We all know that outside politics play a part here, the strikes make everything precarious. I remember the last writers strike. It destroyed tv for fifteen years. Anyone remember Pushing Daisies? Some of y’all have never had your fave show cancelled with zero resolution for the characters and it shows.

Daddy J did us a kindness. He softened the blow of a tough season. After the brutal cliffhanger of s1, he gave us a little softness and hope. All those things you’re mad aren’t resolved? It’s because THE STORY ISN’T OVER.

No one on earth thinks “stuff all your trauma into a box and ignore it” is good advice. A way to actually live. This show did not have enough screen time to throw out dialogue for no reason. There was foreshadowing in s1 for s2, and there is foreshadowing for s3 in s2. This is a well-crafted story by very smart people who care very much for these characters. There is zero chance Frenchie explained the box in his head for no reason. The reason people have not resolved their trauma and growth is because they haven’t done it *yet*.

And friends - it’s not thinly veiled. They straight up fucking tell us what they’re doing.

Luke Skywalker spends the first two movies fucking up and desperately trying to prove himself and just generally being an idiot. Sound familiar? He ignores the lessons he is supposed to be learning to go off and do what he feels like doing, and loses fucking badly. At the end of Empire, Han is gone, Luke and Leia wave goodbye to the Falcon that has Lando and Chewy - the rest of their crew - aboard. Everyone has lost everything they care about. Vader is undefeated. Yoda is pissed. Nothing is resolved.

You see where I’m going?

If you think I’m stretching this too far, welp, when Ed tells Stede he loves him - the climax of the finale - Stede quotes Han fucking Solo. Like - *it’s right there*. The story structure. The reason everything is unresolved.

So yeah. They wave goodbye to their ship because they have wounds to heal (like Luke’s hand). The people aboard the ship have things to find. Ed and Stede have *not* learned their lesson about whims and how not to be like Anne and Mary. It’s not stupid that they’re doing the same thing, and it’s not pointless that we were shown Anne and Mary. It’s all relevant.

The resolution comes in Act 3. None of these people are done. The story is far, far from over. And just in case the studios want to be dicks about it, David Jenkins was lovely enough to not repeat my enduring heartbreak over Pushing Daisies.

Thank you, @davidjenks 🖤

[thefanficmonster]

Heavy Metal Lover

PART 2

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Smoking, Brief Choking, Mentioned Past Suicides (at the location they're exploring), Suggestive Content, Arguments, Swearing

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Very Slight Smut, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Sam's best friend and Kat's best friend have been tangling antlers since the moment they met. So much for the couple's hopes of setting the two up.

NOTE: Sam and Kat are still together in this fic. This detail is not meant to be disrespectful to Sam's current girlfriend in any way.

"Why do we keep trying?"

Sam's question comes out as an exasperated sigh as he slouches further into the leather couch him and Kat have settled onto. Their rooms aren't ready yet, seeing as how their flight arrived way earlier than their calculations had suggested.

The hotel lobby is busy. The noise on any other day would be too much for the two to ignore and tune out but right now it's much more alike white noise. Jet-lag has really done them in this time. They'd been running away from it for long enough - hopping from plane to plane filming Hell Week is the same every year. But alas, by the fourth location they'd always shut down as has been the case since they stepped foot out of the plane and into the Las Vegas airport.

The only reason they're staying awake is so they don't get robbed blind. Well, that and to make sure the other two people on this trip don't murder one another.

"Because I still believe there's something there."

Y/N and Colby had successfully made it through the whole boarding process and flight without a single fight. Hell, Sam can't even recall them exchanging a single word until they arrived at the hotel. Maybe that's why it took them less than thirty seconds to break out in their usual bitter back-and-forth in the middle of the lobby. The only reason voices remained leveled was because they are indeed in public and they have appearances to upkeep.

The couple managed to subdue the perpetual assholes, convincing them to 'take five' which they thankfully went to take in opposite directions - Y/N headed for the parking lot to grab something she allegedly forgot in their rental car while Colby immediately clocked the patio across the lobby and quickly disappeared out of sight.

Kat watched them both, as if on cue, pluck their packs of cigarettes from their pockets on the way out.

That's what she means when she's trying to convince Sam of that something she sees. She can't explain it without the reasoning sounding like wishful thinking but she knows there is something. Something in the explosiveness in their interactions, the 'hatred' in their glares whenever they are tangling antlers over the smallest inconvenience, the way they look at each other when the other isn't looking.

Y/N and Colby are to Kat what the paranormal is to Sam. She wants to prove it to everyone, but mostly herself. Prove she didn't spend years poking holes in their apprehension for one another and pushing them together when the holy force clearly didn't want her to.

Or maybe that's what has been driving her.

Either way, she's truly grateful Sam is going along with her antics. Whether he believes what she's preaching or sees what she's seeing is up for debate, but at he's still supportive.

He'd never tell her this, but he isn't exactly trusting of the process. He more than anyone would want to see his best friend in a happy and healthy relationship. Does he believe that him and Y/N could have that? No. Not at all. Does he have faith Kat will succeed in her endeavors? Nope. Not even a tad. Even though she's stubborn and dedicated to this cause, he's never met a person more hard-headed than his best friend. Or at least he hadn't until he met Y/N.

You know the whole 'opposites attract' notion? The reason Sam and Kat's experiment subjects won't give the results they're hoping for is because they're too alike. In sync even - as the cigarettes instance that happened less than ten minutes ago would confirm. They're on the same wavelength headed in opposite directions. They're permanently heading for a collision - a fight equal to a ticking time bomb. Sam and Kat have to put out the fire the explosion of said bomb causes but that is a small price to pay to keep the two in each other's proximity.

"I don't know, babe...." Sam's shoulders slump downward, his arm automatically wrapping around Kat when she leans into his side. Hesitant as he may be, he's willing to go along with it. How is it any different from all the times Kat agreed to visit abandoned and haunted places with him. Hell, that's why she's here. She had no problem hopping on a plane to Vegas on such short notice just because she knew how much it'd mean to him. So...what's a little matchmaking in return? "But I believe your romance instincts." Looking down at her, he can't help but smile when he sees her absolutely beaming at him.

"I will not let you down."

She may try her best, but their subjects are two particularly unruly chess pieces.

Y/N, for example, is still out in the parking lot, getting antsier by the second. Anger refuses to let her stand still. Her jaw is still set, hot blood pumping through her veins. So many words she didn't get to spit out due to the public constraint are still stuck in her throat. Colby's words are replaying in her head, their edge causing her to dig her nails into her palms.

She needs to get some air, she just doesn't know where to find it. Maybe at the top of a mountain where she could scream her lungs out in peace. That's not really an option now, though, she she just settles for walking around the hotel, giving herself a couple more minutes before she rejoins Sam and Kat inside.

Eventually, she's made her way around to the side of the hotel that spreads out as an open patio, basking in the all-too-warm sun rays of this fine September day. Last year, the high temperatures were not such a problem while putting up with the fast paced dynamic of Hell Week because they actually filmed it in late October. This year, however, they chose to get it out of the wat sooner because their schedule would be packed all October. Kat's been working on a new album, Y/N has a deal with Crypt TV to make a horror movie and Sam and Colby will be doing Sam and Colby stuff. I don't think there is any other way to sum up what those two are doing.

Not that Y/N really cares what they do. The only reason she's versed into their schedules is because she lives with them. Yes, that is correct - much to her dismay, she found herself forced to live with the guys and Kat after an unexpected and unwarranted eviction from her apartment.

She exhausted all possible options long before caving and accepting Kat's offer to move in with the three. She was welcomed into the house with three different reactions: her best friend squealing with excitement; Sam offering her a warm welcome and helping hand in moving her stuff to her room; and last, and certainly least, was Colby who gave her nothing more than a 'hello' in passing.

None of them can really recall when this endless butting of heads started or how or why. Sam and Kat would equate their attempts at getting the two to get along to pushing same charges toward one another - the harder you push, the harder they push apart.

It's truly baffling where Kat found even an ounce of romance between the two.

Y/N wipes a few droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand as she climbs the few stairs to reach the bar out on the patio, hoping to gulp down a glass of water after the cigarette she tossed a few minutes ago coupled with the intense heat.

"Hello there." The bartender greets her with a smile, his gaze trailing over her with zero subtlety. "What can I get ya?"

She chooses to ignore it, "Hi. Just a glass of water, please."

The man chuckles, reaching for a tall glass "You know, it's Happy Hour somewhere."

Despite his attempts at flirting - which Y/N is aware is part of his job - she finds herself letting out a small laugh, "Yeah well, not here. And not for me." She gratefully accepts the glass of ice cold water with a nod.

Before the guy can reply, a third voice butts into the conversation, "Yeah, definitely not for her. She's a raging alcoholic."

Stunned, Y/N turns to see a pair of electric blue eyes piercing her with a blank look that contradicts his extremely fake smile he's pinned on his face out of nothing more than politeness.

For a moment, due to their glaring match, they completely forget about the man they've roped into their mess. Thankfully, he speaks up, reminding them of his presence before he could witness any potential brawl, "Oh, um, I'm sorry to hear that."

Momentarily, Y/N drops the torch, tearing her gaze from Colby to acknowledge the bartender directly, "Yeah, no big deal."

Her teeth grit together in absolute rage when she hears the asshole beside her snort something alike a laugh, "Tragic, really. Can I get a vodka cran?"

Y/N busies her hand with holding the glass so she doesn't give into the idea of punching him, "Someone clearly follows that Happy Hour rule."

"I'll have you know..." Colby turns his whole body to face her now, as if challenging her, "...it's not for me." The tilt of his head directs her gaze to an attractive brunette sitting alone at a table, scrolling through her phone.

"Lovely." She spits the word like poison on her tongue, "I'll go tell her to blink twice if she needs help."

"You need help." The lack of bite to his statement stuns her more than if he were to yell it at her. It's an effective throw-off considering she doesn't immediately jump back or smack his hand away when he reaches for the pocket of her shorts, swiping her lighter, "Mine's out of juice." He explains, sticking it in his back pocket before turning to the bartender once more, handing him a ten dollar bill, "And lemon iced tea for my friend here, she's looking a little parched."

With that and a brisk nod in Y/N's direction, Colby excuses himself from the interaction and heads back to the model of a woman who's quick to flash him a bright smile when she notices him approaching.

A sickening feeling settles in her gut. She can't believe any woman gets wound around his finger so easily. She might be biased but she just simply doesn't see it. She can't understand what gets girls within a five mile radius of him swooning.

That smile so many deem charming she finds cynical and fake. His eyes, although a pretty color, are hollow apart from the twinge of evil she sees every time they glare at her. His flirty, charismatic words could make her puke if exposed to them for an extended period of time. In short, she finds him repulsive.

Had they gotten off on a better foot maybe she would've even ended up in his bed on a few occasions by now. As they stand now, she'd rather sleep with Satan himself.

Still, she takes the iced tea, mostly out of curtesy but also because she is indeed dehydrated. She spares the table Colby has now taken a seat at a brisk glance just to find her eyes met with a pair of piercing blue ones once more.

She could strangle him, theoretically, but she won't. Not with this many witnesses around. Instead, she heads inside, looking for Sam and Kat in hopes of getting the last fifteen minutes out of her head.

* * * *

"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby! And today we'll be investigating the Oasis Motel in Las Vegas. Known for its dark and unexplainable past and the reputation that precedes it today." Sam explains as they begin filming the intro to their video.

The group is currently standing outside the aforementioned motel. The exterior they were met with upon arrival was enough for Kat and Y/N to exchange a particular look. It's in an area off the strip, the surroundings accentuating the atmosphere and amplifying the creep factor.

"Unfortunately, we won't be able to stay at the hotel. They haven't been renting rooms for close to a decade to avoid any potential casualties. And by that I mean - suicides." Colby says, reciting the notes he both wrote and memorized on the car ride here.

"Yeah, this motel is known for two specific suicides that happened here. Specifically in room 20." Sam adds, listing the sightings that have been allegedly witnessed by staff and guests alike before the motel was shut down for business.

The place now just stands ominously as a haunted attraction of sorts. It's meant to honor the memory of the two people who took their own life there but it's clear they have purposefully added to the fear factor to attract more people like Sam and Colby.

That still doesn't take away from the fact that just looking at the building settles an uneasy feeling in Y/N's gut.

She's always been curious about the paranormal but never went out of her way to seek answers. The only reason she's been joining the gang for paranormal investigations is because Kat often begs her to. And she's always had a hard time turning down her best friend, about anything.

So, here she is, sighing as she follows Sam and Kat inside the barely lit lobby of the motel where the staff member who's gonna be giving them a tour is waiting for them.

Before she can fully cross over the doorstep, she feels a finger trail over her arm, running over the very prominent goosebumps that have appeared on her skin.

"Aww, is someone scared?" The mockery in Colby's voice drains any sort of fear or uncertainty she was feeling before.

She whirls around to face him, nostrils flaring when she sees his coy smirk, "Get your fucking hands off me before I knock you the fuck out." She snarls between clenched teeth.

His smile only widens, becoming a tad more genuine now, "That's more like it. Don't be a pussy."

She's about to retaliate with a string of insults that's make a sailor blush when Sam, thankfully, interrupts her, "Guys! Come on!"

The fucker was saved by divine intervention this once, but Sam won't always be there to shield him from Y/N's wrath - he's very aware of that. Time and time again they've screamed their lungs out at one another just to storm off to fill them with nicotine for a potential round two.

In a way, that is a love language too, right? Well, if you ask Kat, that is. Though she isn't completely wrong. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. And these two are most definitely not indifferent to one another.

Speaking of Kat, she doesn't fail to sneak a peek at the hostile interaction between the two. She nudged Sam's ribs to point it out and smacked his arm when he put a stop to it. Although that was the best course of action to prevent Colby losing any teeth tonight, curtesy of Y/N's fist.

Ok, that's a bit of an exaggeration.

She may have spit a million threats his way over the many year they've known each other, but never once did she go through with them.

"Hi, guys. I'm Scott, and it's an honor to be welcoming y'all to the Oasis." The man, who they now know as Scott, introduces himself as he turns on an old tall lamp by what used to be the front desk of the motel. "I hope you're ready to capture some great footage tonight. We're giving you a time frame till 2 AM which is an exception we rarely make, but this one over here is a smooth talker." He says, smiling slyly over at Colby who was the one that placed the call to the motel before they added the place to their itenirary.

Colby, in turn, shrugs, a grin plastering itself on his face, "I mean..." He chuckles, causing Y/N to roll her eyes, "No, jokes aside, I can't thank you enough for bending the rules for us."

It baffles her how charming he can be. She can't help but wonder at times why she wasn't deemed worthy of this pleasant side of him. Not that she hasn't grown somewhat fond of their dysfunctional dynamic - not that she'd ever admit it - but she still wishes she knew.

And she hates it.

Instead of dwelling on it, she busies herself with the fear that's still lingering on the backburner. She'd much rather be scared of whatever's waiting for them in this motel than what she might find if she keeps digging in her mind.

* * * *

"What is your fucking problem?!"

The tension has been building all night, both between Y/N and Colby and from the paranormal aspect of it all.

Glares thrown in from across the room. Light, supposedly accidental touches, some even meant to startle her. Lingering behind her or always looming close to her, reminiscent of her literal shadow.

He's rarely so bold with his proximity to her. He respects her personal space and tends to keep himself at an arm's length regardless of the place they're in. But for some reason, not quite clear to him yet, he's been keeping himself close to her the whole night. Either it's from a certain need to protect her or an inherent need to annoy her into continuously acknowledging his presence, he can't tell.

But by now it's reached a boiling point.

What pushed the situation past Y/N's tolerance threshold was getting scared out of her skin by Colby who, by design of the challenge, wasn't supposed to be anywhere near her. They were less than five minutes into their solo investigations - Sam, ever the challenger, took room 20; Kat is in the restaurant, Y/N is in room 33 and Colby was supposed to take on the attic.

However, he didn't quite last long.

At the first sound of mild panic coming from room 33, which is directly underneath the attic, Colby immediately took off down the stairs, nearly taking the door off its hinges and scaring the ever-loving daylight out of Y/N.

That is what provoked this reaction from her. And now that we're up to speed...

"I thought you were in danger." He explains, quietly shutting the door behind him as he approaches the bed where she's sat.

"Jesus, Colby, you gave me a heart attack!" She groans, squeezing the bridge of her nose in frustration, suddenly antsy in her seat, "I'm not new to this shit! I've been doing this for years with you guys! I get that you may not see me but that doesn't mean I'm not there!" Her heart is still racing, her breathing shallow. Her chest is heaving despite the hand she's placed overtop it in an inefficient attempt at calming herself down.

A few steps closer on his part make her even more uneasy. She gets up to her feet to level the ground between them somewhat. There is something so vulnerable in sitting down with him standing over her. Dare I say, intimate.

"I see you." He says almost bitterly, "Oh, I fucking see you, Y/N. You're always there, always in my viewpoint. Always just a step out of arm's reach. And I hate it. Or try to. You piss me off so bad I can't even put it into words without sounding fucking insane!"

He's close, too fucking close. The chain hanging from his jeans brushes against the exposed skin of her thigh, sending chills all over her body. It makes her wish her shorts were longer. Makes her wish she could push him away, keep her guard up, keep up her mean front.

But when fingers tangle in her hair, his hand cupping the back of her head, she knows it's too late for any of that.

Their lips are barely an inch apart, the two practically sharing the same breath. Still, her pettiness dies screaming with one last whispered, "Fuck you."

With that, all barriers, both physical and metaphorical, come crashing down as their lips collide with the force of seven years worth of tension. Seven years of denial masked as aggression and annoyance. Every word spat out in anger, every glare, every passing touch, every 'flirty' moment. It's all condensed into a hostile collision of lips, biting teeth and battling tongues.

Y/N's hands intertwine at the back of his neck while his travel down to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Their connection is airtight, the heat between their bodies increasing the need to pull back to breathe, though that's the last thing they wanna do. It's been far too long for it to end this soon.

Her legs threaten to give out. It's all too much too fast and too unbelievable. Thankfully, Colby seems to feel the same.

He softly pushes her down on the bed, smiling in the kiss at the zero complaints he receives in response.

"You're so sweet when you wanna be." He pulls back for just a second, his hand cupping her chin.

She's quick to smack it away. He expected nothing else. "Shut the fuck up."

He chuckles almost darkly as his hand now settles around her throat, "Adorable." He's aware he's pushing his luck, but then again it's always a gamble with her. This time, he might just luck out.

Their lips have no time to reconnect though, much to their dismay.

"Colby! Y/N! Where are you guys?!"

Sam's voice reaches them from the lobby downstairs, forcing them apart instantly. A deer in headlights look flashes across both their faces as they hurry to create as much distance between them as possible.

Colby swears he sees any hope he had sink right before his eyes. He watches the realization of what just happened dawn on Y/N. Now that the heat of the moment has evaporated, it becomes all too real and all too clear to her what a mistake that was.

"Guys?!" This time it's Kat's voice bouncing off the walls, coupled with the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

He's panicking, not really sure as to exactly why. Whether it's because he'll have to explain this predicament to his friends or because he can see Y/N starting to regret said predicament in real time, he's not sure. Either way, he needs to come up with something, fast. If his brain can kick back into gear after his whole world was briefly thrown off its axis.

"Go." It comes out as a whisper but it bounces around in his head like an earthquake.

"What?" His tone mimics hers, afraid that a single note higher would ruin what little tranquility they've managed to maintain while there's full-on storms raging in their minds.

Her eyes are trained on the floor, hollow with a thousand yard stare. She can't look at him, unsure as to why. She just knows she can't. "Go. Get out. This never happened." When she finally wills herself to meet his eyes she can feel the burning of tears at the back of her throat, "Forget this ever happened."

Footsteps grow closer but they still have leeway to get away with it with just a white lie.

"Go. Now!" She repeats, a bit more fervor in her words now. She gives him no room to reply as she ushers him away but he isn't capable of stringing words together right now anyway.

So, he obliges, going against all his instincts telling him the opposite. And he does so on time as well, shutting the door behind him just as a tear rolls down Y/N's cheek.

What a fucking mistake, they once again sync up, sharing the same exact thought. Though they silently agreed to forget everything that just happened, they're both well aware it won't leave their brain for the foreseeable future.

If ever.

[salty-an-disco]

you know…… there's an argument to be made to getting Contrarian in Nightmare instead of Paranoid. Like– you go for a third option neither the narrator or princess want, but you double down on anyway. In the original Nightmare, that was because you couldn't trust neither princess or narrator, but what if you started doubling down specifically because neither of them agreed with you?

That was how I fell into the swap au trap, with something I'm calling 'A Shift in Perspective' (or 'SiP AU' for short), where the swaps are all decided by whether or not I can find a good argument to why you should get a different voice in the game's routes. Here's the conclusions I reached:

Nightmare – Contrarian: like I already said in the example above, neither princess nor Narrator liked your idea and so you decided to double down on it to the detriment of everyone involved. Princess still feels abandoned by you, but she's also angry to how flippantly you taking this ("You think this is game? OK, then, why don't we play.").

I want to lean more into Nightmare's playfulness here, with some jigsaw and carnival themes. The way to the basement is a jolly ride that take you down to her lair with cheery-creepy music as you pass through exaggerated smiling and crying faces. Contrarian is still trying to make light of the situation, though there's a noticeable undercurrent of fear in his tone. Nightmare doesn't shut down your organs here.

Spectre – Opportunist: You did the job exactly as asked specifically to get that reward, but it turned out it was a bust, so you kill yourself and come back to the cabin in hopes the princess has a better option for you. In this read of the route, you take more of a 'hitman' role, being more focused on what you can get out of this situation as opposed to the act of killing the princess. Spectre doesn't change much, though her cabin has a more sterile feeling to it as opposed to old and abandoned. She won't be happy to learn you killed her just to get a reward, but is willing to hear you out. Now you just gotta negotiate your way out of this situation and make sure not to accidentally get yourself killed by saying the wrong thing!! (don't have many clear visuals for this one, more just a Vibe)

Prisoner – Cold: You completely ignored all of Narrator's warnings and advice. It didn't sound right to you, anyway, so you went straight for the princess, and it immediately became clear who you were more willing to hear out. When she kills you, you accept it without complaint; it's only fair, there was no other way for her to defend herself. If Cold is a steel-weapon in the canon game, here, he is a shield; willing to take on any hit if it means getting his way, and making sure the princess stays alive. In the basement (a stone cold prison with clear, (and very breakable), chains around the princess' wrists and neck). Prisoner smiles when you appear, like she's in on a joke, but doesn't say much. Cold still won't urge you in any particular direction; suggesting you can explore, examine the place, talk to the princess all you want– but in the end, you still have to make a choice. And it's a easy, no?

Wanna lean into the fact Cold is prolly the closest voice to Quiet's true nature here, and the fact that despite lookin' the most human, Prisoner is still the one you can get free by simply letting change happen around her; neither of you may know why, but you two intrinsically trust each other

Damsel – Stubborn: You very insistently didn't get the knife, didn't abide by Narrator's advice to not talk to the princess, resisted when he tried to force your hand, and made sure she would be the one to kill you. (Imagine Narrator saying, "A stubborn bastard, aren't you?" right before you die). There's no doubt now. Narrator is a villain who, for some reason, wants to make sure the princess dies. You won't let that happen.

This is the one where we focus more on the 'distress' part of Damsel in Distress. There'll be lots of traps and trials trying to attack her once you save the princess from the chains, and it's your job to make sure she gets out of there unscathed. Something of a scourt mission. Stubborn's fighting instincts here are directed to the threats around the princess instead of her; much like Cold, he's more of a shield than a weapon in this version.

Beast – Broken: You got absolutely wrecked by the princess like you were no more than a mouse against a lion. What hope can you have to survive in this situation? It's simply nature; you should just lay down and let it take its course. The basement here is much more open, and with an arid feel to it; more of a savana than a jungle. The princess lies in plain view, a mighty Beast that you cannot hope to face against. You have to fight against your own Broken spirit as well as this apex predator to hope you can have any chance of survival.

Witch – Paranoid: The moment you saw the princess chew her own arm, you knew you made the wrong choice. She's clearly not someone that should be trusted, attacking was the only option you had!! The Princess attacks back in surprise, immediately hardening her stance once she realizes what you did. The two of you die, and the way she clawed and bit at you only cements in your head that she's a tricky monster who cannot be trusted.

There is more than one entrance to the basement this time, and no matter which one you take, you'll end up in a labyrinth of roots and vines full of tricks and traps the princess laid out for you. You never see her clearly, but her cackling laughter follows you all the way. Paranoid will warn you of any trap before you can fall for them, and listening to her is the best way to avoid getting caught; though some of the things she perceives as a trap might not actually be there– the roots almost seem to move imperceptibly, and you're sure there eyes following you. Are they really there, or are they imagined? You'll find Witch right at the center of the maze, where you can either fight her or try to talk things out. Though none of these choices will really help you escape. You're already trapped.

Wanna lean into the cyclical feel of both Witch and Nightmare here, with your distrust/fear is what keeps cementing this cycle of violence you're both stuck on.

Tower – Smitten: (women that can kill you by stepping on your throat are kinda ho– [gets shot]) Right before you die, you see the situation for what it is. You never should've wielded that knife against her, she's a light that can't be snuffed out, don't you see? With that understanding is that you die. There are bells echoing in the distance when you enter the cabin, a beautiful place with ornamented windows and mobilia; really leaning into that church symbolism here. Tower is sitting as she waits for you with a soft smile on her face. Her voice is honey, and what she offers you is benevelonce and a place at her side, all you have to do is pledge yourself to her.

Instead of an imposing and impossible figure, Tower is more of the 'benevelont god' figure here. Still very much wants you to be under her control, but won't rush or press that offer upon you (she knows you'll accept it one way or the other anyway). Smitten is the only one forcing control of your body here, wanting to rush to her and kneel at her feet; you can fight him, or you can let him steal all the choices from you.

Adversary – Hunted: You tried to go for a killing blow, but you gave her too much time to prepare herself and now you're also at the receiving ending of her blows. Well, kill or be killed; you're both just animals trying to survive. The cave you find yourself in once inside the cabin has more of a humid air to it, and at the bottom, you find the Princess; Adversary has more of a scaled lizard aesthetic to her, and is eager to fight for her life again with you.

Hunted isn't as excited about fighting as Stubborn is in canon, but is very much willing to prove you can overcome this obstacle. Doesn't matter how many tries it takes.

Stranger – Cheated: "What the fuck do you mean the universe itself will warp into itself to keep you from leaving?!? That's absolutely bullshit!!"

That's all the argument I have for this one. Stranger themselves doesn't change much, the main difference is Cheated's reaction and how he goes about treating a world where you're choices doesn't seem to matter anyway.

Razor – Skeptic: There must be a reason you couldn't kill her before, and if you find the answer, you can make sure you kill her for good. You see this mission as a puzzlebox that needs to be solved if you want to slay the princess. The cabin is basically a escape room from the moment you step in, and will not let you progress unless you solve it. Each wrong answer slices you in half and gets you a new voice. New perspectives to see this rubix cube from!!

At this point, you overcomplicated this whole thing so much, it's all just a tangle of webs and knots with no rhyme or reason, with you and the princess (who's at this point, just a mess of wires and steel) stuck right in the middle. The only way to escape is shutting down all your thoughts and cutting through the knots with her.

+ some doodles I did for this concept

[theinsanefoxwriter]

Gregory Deserves Better...

I never make actual posts to be honest, but I feel the need to right now, because I’m just so…tired of this. My favorite character in the newer FNAF era has been mistreated by both fans and the creators. So I’m making this in light of the new book coming that, at least from the description we have right now, sounds like it’s just Security Breach, except Gregory is replaced by Cassie.

I’ve said many times elsewhere how I suspected they wanted to boot Gregory for Cassie, and...I had no idea how right I actually was. It angers me, but…mostly, I’m just hurt and very disappointed, because it sucks to see a character I loved get so disrespected then practically replaced. The ending of Ruin felt like a slap in the face, and the sting is only getting worse. (And very quickly, in case anybody takes this from what I'm saying, no I don't hate Cassie. I just don't want her to completely replace Gregory.) I’m not here to talk about that situation, though.

If anyone for some reason leaves a comment arguing the points I make, I’m just going to ignore or even delete it. I’m not here to discuss or argue with people who disagree with me and/or think Gregory is a bad character. I just want to express an opinion that I don’t think is said nearly enough. And that opinion is the fact Gregory is severely misunderstood and mistreated by both the fandom and canon itself. I’m not going to get into everything, but enough that you can hopefully understand the point I’m trying to make.

Most of the Gregory hate at the beginning was due to him destroying the animatronics and then lying about it to Freddy. I don’t see how this makes him hateable or a bad person. “Why’d he have to go out of his way to destroy them?” “He’s a bad person for lying to Freddy and giving him the upgrades of his friends.” “The Glamrocks were so awesome. Why did Gregory have to do that?” What kid in danger would want to help or be nice to the scary robots trying to kill them? Or against the better argument, why would he have sympathy for them in a moment of intense danger? When they were actively trying to kill him? He did what he thought he needed to survive, which was destroying them and using the good parts they had to give him a better chance against them. If they had been nice, he would have liked them, but they weren’t. They were after him. And choosing to do that plus being able to do that doesn’t make him a bad person, and it doesn’t mean he's uncaring towards others or that he’s heartless. What I think people don't take into account is that Gregory did befriend an animatronic, the one who wasn't attacking him. He went to great lengths to help Freddy, and genuinely cared for him; that bear needed to be rescued on more than one occasion lol, and Gregory clearly wasn't just doing it because Freddy gives him a hiding place.

And in regard to the lying, I think Gregory hid that he was getting the upgrades from Freddy's friends, because he didn't want to make Freddy mad or hurt his feelings. That does sound like something a kid would do, and he is a kid. He's not gonna be perfect in this situation, and he doesn't even do anything that bad. I don't think Gregory gets enough credit. Everybody just sees a mouthy kid destroying animatronics they like (despite the fact they're hunting him, and the virus has made them basically mindless. Why wouldn’t he?), and they hate on him for it and other rather stupid reasons. Gregory is more than the “annoying” kid who destroyed your favorite animatronics. He’s a clearly guarded and defensive child who got stuck in a bad and terrifying situation, but…in the end, stayed anyway to prevent this and other bad things from happening to anyone else. Gregory cares. Yes, even if he destroyed some animatronics. The creators calling him the “darkness of the Pizzaplex” or whatever they said doesn’t make sense. On the surface, he might look like some child who destroyed Freddy’s friends, but look any deeper at all, and that’s not the case. There’s so much potential for his character, and I’m upset that he isn’t being given the spotlight or time to further explore his potential properly, especially since Security Breach ended up being a bit lacking in a lot of areas: perhaps another factor in why he’s so misunderstood.

In the end, I’m simply tired of seeing a character that I connected with treated like he was just a writing mistake that now needs to be replaced by a “better” character. I’m not saying his writing was perfect, but he deserves way better than this. I feel very passionate about the characters I like, which is why this has affected me so much, and I hope at least a few people see this.

Anything I missed I’m going to touch on briefly here:

GGY? A cool concept, actually, that I wish was utilized in the games. And Gregory is clearly possessed there, similar to Vanessa, so him being Patient 46 and causing people’s deaths can’t actually be held against him.

Dropping the elevator on Cassie? I firmly believe that was not him, and very clearly the Mimic’s doing. There’s solid evidence behind it, but I’m not going to get into it because it’s exhausting. Just know that no one can convince me otherwise. And even if the writers wanted Gregory to do that, it’s out of character and clearly an act of character assassination.

Thanks for taking the time to read this. Now go hug a misunderstood gremlin!

[sillyyuserr]

A longer, more in depth (9 parts all in one) terukane analysis, and/or everything i could find, compiled (one of my better pieces of work imo) ⭐️

Ok so it might be the fact that i ship them so i see alot of things they do as possibly romantic even when theres no romantic implications, but the amount of times it feels like AidaIro seems to be implying that teru likes akane is getting to a suspiciously high number. Like lets look at this from a non-shipper’s pov (or at least try😭)

Item A: teru looking at akane

Without the context that he’s looking at akane, he genuinely looks like he’s showing something of raw emotion, unchanged by his “fake persona” but a genuine reaction. Looking at this picture at face value one would assume he’s big time crushing. I mean i wouldn’t say “omg hes so in lovveee!!!” But considering he doesn’t really open up to like anyone, i think this is definitely something??

Item B: them going together on a romantic outing

Yes i did make it sound much more compelling then it actually is but cmon man. The school festival is considered a “romantic event” and these two spent the entire time hanging around the school together. Giving the excuse that "it's our job being in the student council" (which i guess it is) but in reality it was because no one wanted to come with them.

Which i mean they also did technically go on an actual date together

also nene looking like a hamster 😭😭

Item C: teru trusting akane more than anyone (?)

Teru likes talking to akane, trusts his intellect, and considers him someone he can rely on but doesn't like it when his whole world starts to revolve around aoi. My guy, that's jealousy.

He is shown to trust him and even show his back to him in multiple instances, knowing he wont hurt him, and he’s someone he can trust (lets ignore what happens on the literal next page)

Even literally being one of those “i fight alone” type of people but when akane’s there, he’s never fighting alone

Item D: not sure if thats whats happening here but im pretty sure he tried rizzing akane(?) even blushing n shit like ‘oh no mr judge im not guilty🥺💄💋’

And then got agitated when it didn’t work

Item E: akane knows teru better than we think

When kou and teru were fighting, the reason teru even walked out in the first place was because of the fireworks. And whos idea was that?

Akane’s. He knew he liked fireworks and that they’d lure him out of his room. And again, he was right they did it fact get him to leave

Item F: valentines day event

i dont think i even need to break this one down. Its a picture of JUST them TOGETHER posted on VALENTINES DAY. 2/14/24. THE ANNUAL HOLIDAY THAT CELEBRATES NONE OTHER THAN ROMANTIC LOVE. Also teru’s color being used as akane’s sparkles and akane’s color being used as teru’s sparkles kinda shows that AidaIro arent just showing us two characters, they’re showing us TERU and AKANE, TOGETHER. If it really could be anyone im sure they’d put them in a general setting, but with the paired colors i’d say that says otherwise.

some might say they’re looking at eachother

Item G: possible fruit symbolism

first off, this picture.

First lets look at hanako’s. We can see he has two drinks, both red + with strawberries, along with a red straw. While also being pictured near other red fruits.

In this picture, nene’s flower(s) are literally strawberry flowers, putting the association between strawberries + nene out there. Meaning the strawberries in his drink could be purposeful, along with the red undertones. (red being her eye color) (sorry for quality im doin this on iPhone)

Moving on to teru’s, he has one drink, being yellow-ish with pineapple on the side, and chunks in the drink itself. Whilst his straw is orange, while also being pictured around a ginormous pinapple

And this isnt the first time we’ve seen him pictured with pineapples

This god awful picture unfortunately exists so im adding it as proof/evidence for my argument. (Oh and not to mention akane has green pants on so everyone’s a lil funky igs)

notice how as soon they got to his house his outfit changed? This is him when they got to his house (clearly in a long-sleeve shirt, not the hoodie)

this is him with akane + nene going on a date

All within the same chapter i think, but him changing outfits i feel like says something. Like we’re supposed to associate that with something other than aoi (them talking ab how to save her at his house) or his family. Like aidairo are shoving it in your face ‘disassociate teru w aoi!!!’ He even straight up left when they started talking ab how they missed aoi at the karaoke place. (More or so when he left they started talking but ykwim) Since nene is being associated with strawberries it leaves the only other person to be akane, this also making sense also because of the straw color. (The straw being orange; akane’s rep color being orange, as nene’s is red)

also the fact that fruit is literally associated with the queer community

Item H: triangles + queer symbolism

Quick history lesson, A triangle has been a symbol for the queer community, initially intended as a badge of shame, but later reclaimed as a positive symbol of self-identity. In Nazi Germany in the 1930s and 1940s, it began as one of the Nazi concentration camp badges, distinguishing those imprisoned because they had been identified by authorities as gay men. In the 1970s, it was again, reclaimed as a symbol of protest against homophobia, and has since been adopted by the larger queer community as a popular symbol of queer pride. More or so, the upsidown triangle. and guess whos ALWAYS wearing a fucking upsidown triangle

My guy has one for EVERY OUTFIT 😭 he’s just ab the only character to have this. Aidairo finds a way to sneak an upsidown triangle in all of his outfits

Item I: extras

This picture. Him holding akane’s shirt and aoi’s bag really shows that AidaIro REALLY doesn’t want us to know which one he likes 😭 (if you’re confused, to sum it up AidaIro did a really good job keeping teru’s stance on the “love triangle” between akane, teru and aoi, ambiguous. If you are STILL confused go check out my other analysies i only have like 5 other posts, they go more in depth ab it)

Him looking at akane after he ate his “home made cooking” 😭 ALSO HIS EYES?? Dude they’re glistening. And the slight blush too

In the “kiss comic” part of the art book, not only are teru and akane’s on the same page, but they also look like they go together

Thats all i got for now (´-ω-`) MAN this took me like 5 different consecutive days. I wrote like 3 parts on one day, 2 more parts the next, and 1 more part today. 😭 hope you enjoyed and this re-gave you faith that terukane might be canon one day 😔 fake it till you make it

Feel free to comment and tell me ab anything i may have missed!! :3

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part twelve.

The first coherent thing you say the morning after, as you tug your sweatshirt back over your head and resolutely ignore the sculpted planes of Lando’s abdomen while he lounges in bed and watches you, is: “This can never happen again.”

He makes an inquisitive sound. “Can this maybe wait until I’m actually awake?”

You look over your shoulder just in time to catch him yawning into his elbow, and for half a second find the drowsiness to be endearing━ the way his knuckles rub languidly at his half-lidded eyes, his scratchy morning voice, and the wild case of bedhead that’s got his curls sticking up in every direction. It’s only when your gaze finds and latches onto the dark bruise sucked onto his collarbone that you remember you can’t be entertaining this anymore than you already have, adorable sleepy morning habits be damned.

“Lando.”

At his name, he opens his eyes again and meets your stare.

“This━” you gesture between yourself and him, “━can never happen again.”

You do feel sympathetic for trying to have what’s intended to be a serious conversation so early in the morning, especially when he’d really only been woken up by you practically throwing yourself out of bed, but the gravity of the situation had slammed into you the moment you’d opened your eyes to see his peacefully slumbering face across from yours.

There isn’t actually a clause in your contract that forbids you from entering a romantic relationship with anyone else on the team━ technically, there aren’t any mentions at all about anti-fraternization rules━ but just the thought of how badly this could fuck things up for the both of you has you preemptively planning to take an ibuprofen or two the minute you make it back to your own hotel room in preparation for the nasty headache you’re sure to get.

Firable offenses aside, McLaren could just as easily cite some other reason to decide not to renew your contract at the end of the year if they deem the “partnership” between you and Lando to be too detrimental to his performance ability. You might be a good photographer, but Lando’s a great driver and he’s certainly more valuable to the team than you are. He’s a one of a kind, and you’re one of plenty in a market saturated with young talents desperate for a chance to make it big.

On top of that, you’re not even sure how ethical it is to sleep with your coworker, all things considered. It’s your job to follow him around every week and take pictures that you plaster all over social media. You’ve already gotten a glimpse of how difficult things can be in the midst of an argument, but if things turn serious━ assuming, of course, that Lando is after something serious and that this isn’t just a bit of fun meant to keep him entertained with the added convenience that you’ll be traveling with him for the foreseeable future━ what sort of added ramifications would an argument have then? You’re not sure the professionalism the two of you have managed the last few weeks prior to making up would be able to survive a messy breakup.

“You’re spiralling,” he comments, sliding out from beneath the covers of the bed. He’s very nonchalant about his nakedness.

You avert your eyes.

“So maybe it’s morally grey territory,” he continues, leisurely collecting his clothes from where they wound up strewn across the floor after being discarded amidst the night’s activities. “But we’re both consenting adults━” he tugs his sweatpants back on, “━and so long as we both stay consenting adults I don’t see what the problem is. I don’t really have any plans to be magically turned into a baby anytime soon. Unless you did?” 

You stare at him incredulously, ignoring the fact that he’s still shirtless and now that he’s standing and facing you it gives a clear view of all the hickeys painted across his skin. Hickeys that you left there, and that you can remember leaving there despite attempting to shove the memories down and forget them.

He stares right back.

“In case you suddenly forgot, I’m supposed to be in a committed and exclusive relationship with someone else,” you hiss.

“Yeah, but it’s not real. You aren’t actually dating him,” he answers back with a shrug. “It’s a PR stunt, you said.”

You don’t actually care about Garrett Ward or the fake claim of faithfulness between the two of you. If there weren’t guaranteed to be nasty consequences for you, you’d let the staged relationship crash and burn in a blaze of vengeful glory. But that’s exactly what’s stopping you━ the consequences. It isn’t just your reputation on the line like it would be if you were some no-name fan who somehow managed to score lucky. If you go down, your career goes with you and that also means waving goodbye to Lando and Formula One as a whole.

Even if you managed a miracle and didn’t lose your job, the media would not look favorably upon you. At best, there would be a smattering of fans from people like Jack and Lando speaking up on your behalf who would defend you for a month or two, maybe a media outlet with a more present stance on women in sports would try to lessen the blow if the right people said the right thing. But the reality is that you could sit down and regale the whole story about Garrett’s blackmail━ starting from the very first call asking you to dinner and detailing the proof of his threats and manipulation━ and there would still be people out there painting you as the villain in his story.

You’d be designated another “bitch” who ruined the career of a perfectly good athlete, and they’d speculate into your motives, into why you chose to tear him down. It would discredit the actual wrongness of Garrett’s own actions and instead pin the blame on you and your jealousy. Or, whatever else they’d attribute it to.

So no, you don’t care about Garrett Ward or his rotten excuse for a heart. His feelings can go fuck themselves for all you care. But even still…

“The public doesn’t know that, Lando,” you start to explain. “I can’t be seen with you because, fake or not, do you know how horribly it would end for me if I were painted as some adulterous slut? They already tore me to pieces just because I was with him in the first place, can you imagine how bad it would be if it got out that I’d supposedly cheated on him? Do you know how much meaner these people would get if they somehow believed they’d been proven right about me? That the things they were saying were right all along?”

He’s silent now.

“There’s a reason I haven’t tried to get myself out of this situation already,” you continue, beginning to pace the length of the hotel room. “Like I told you yesterday, even if he makes his claims and I manage to prove him wrong, the damage to my reputation would ruin me. I’m lucky that I had McLaren to come back to and that’s what made it easier to push back on his demands, but can you imagine if I didn’t have anything lined up after that City gig? I would’ve been even more desperate to get any sort of work and Garrett absolutely would’ve capitalized on that. And I can’t keep banking on the fact that McLaren will save the day because what if one day they don’t?”

Lando crosses the distance between you and rests his hands on your shoulders, bringing your harried pacing to a stop. He looks like he’s about to give you a pep talk, and the absurdity of the thought is almost enough to make you forget about the seriousness of this entire situation and laugh. Almost. You are, unfortunately, still painfully aware of the line you’re now walking and how terrifyingly thin it is.

“McLaren would never get rid of you, so you don’t have to worry about that,” he says after a moment.

“You don’t know that,” you tell him, shaking your head and pulling free from his grasp to resume your nervous treading in another section of the room. “You can’t know that. Honestly, the backlash this could have would probably be enough to get McLaren to fire me on the spot. If not immediately, then there’d at least be enough harassment from Garrett’s fans for them to eventually decide letting me go would be the best course of action for the sake of their own reputation.”

He crosses the distance between you again, and this time pulls you into his arms entirely. He’s still warm from being beneath the covers and you soak up the comfort as much as he’s allowing you to, burying your face into the crook of his neck and reciprocating his hug by wrapping your own arms around him and grabbing at the back of his shirt.

“Obviously, this is something you’ve thought about a lot,” he starts, running his fingers up and down your back soothingly. “And it clearly stresses you out. But I really like you, Y/N. Honestly, it’s embarrassing. I’ve fancied you since I met you. You walked in and it was like one of those dumb romcoms you’ve made me watch. I just… I just knew. And I wanted you to like me, too.”

You hum in acknowledgement and sag deeper into him, clutching tighter at his shirt. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because you hated me,” he answers simply with a tiny shrug. “Or, at least, I thought you did. And then you didn’t, but we were still so new to being friends that I didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up. I got so anxious thinking about what would happen if we broke up. It would ruin the friendship, but it would also potentially ruin your career if we couldn’t both do our job and I didn’t want to fuck that up for you. So, I was content to just have you close, honestly. That was enough.”

“Until it wasn’t?”

He sighs. You feel the rise and fall of his chest more than you actually hear it. “Garrett Ward is a raging prick and I stand by all the things I’ve said about him, but maybe some of it was influenced by me thinking he’d taken you away from me. And, when I called you that night piss drunk at Daniel’s, I was projecting the anger I felt towards myself onto the people around me. I didn’t take any risks, and because of that I was convinced that I’d lost you in every way that mattered.”

He holds you a bit tighter, “And we know how I handled that.” It’s quiet and he sounds miserable. You pull back just enough to see him looking piteously out the window, a pained look painted across his features.

You release your hold on his shirt and trail your hands across his body until you can grab his face and turn his gaze back on you.

When he’s staring into your eyes, you say, “I want this, Lando. You and me. I really do, I promise. But I can’t.”

His face falls. “If you let his influence over you control every aspect of your life, then hasn’t he already won? He’s gotten what he wanted. He doesn’t need you to be desperate for a job, because he has control over you anyway.”

If it were said in any other context or by any other person, you’d bristle at the accusation that you’re letting Garrett take whatever he wants without at least attempting to put up a fight. You’ve pushed back where you can, where it’s safest, but you have to prioritize your livelihood too and if that means asking how high when he says jump, you’ll do what you must. Not that it feels good to bend to the whims of a man who gets what he wants through fear.

“I just mean━” he hurries to correct himself, as if sensing you offense, “━you shouldn’t have to sacrifice everything that brings you joy just because you’re afraid of what he might do or how the media will perceive it due to his presence in your life. You have every reason to be hesitant to fight back against the power he holds over you, you just shouldn’t have to be.”

You pull him back in and sink into his arms again, pressing your face into his chest to hide the shine of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t promise that there won’t be backlash,” he continues. “But I can tell you that McLaren will stand behind you. I’ll make sure of it. And if they don’t, I’ll walk.” He says it likes it’s nothing━ like he isn’t saying he’ll give up everything he’s worked for just for you. “I can get you a really nice lawyer, too. If you’d want one. Or, you know, if you’d want to come out about what all Ward’s done.”

The idea sounds impossible and yet it’s so close━ close enough that Lando is practically offering it to you on a silver platter. The idea of just coming out with it all and exposing the horrible things Garrett has done. You know on top of Lando’s support, Jack and the other Manchester City boys would side with you, too, and the other members of the team behind the scenes who you worked closely with throughout your time at Etihad Campus. It’s a lot of people, and by proxy you’d probably have a large amount of their fanbase as well.

It seems too good to be true.

But Lando’s offering you the chance to make it a reality.

“I’m supposed to still be mad at you right now,” you mumble into his shirt.

He huffs out a laugh, “Being mad at someone and being in love with them aren’t mutually exclusive feelings.”

“Who said anything about being in love with you?” You tease, though you’re practically melted into his arms.

“I mean,” he starts, and just from the sound of his voice you can tell he’s about to say something stupid and cheeky and it’ll make you want to slap him upside the head. “The way you treated me last night kind of implies that you at least like me pretty seriously.”

You groan in feigned annoyance, pulling away from him just in time to catch the dazzling grin splitting his face. It’s a beautiful sight that you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of no matter how many times you see it. You recall the caption of a post made what feels like ages ago, but the words ring just as true now as they did then, and you stand by them. A smiley Lando is the best Lando.

“If we’re really doing this,” you start, somberly after another moment, “we have to be careful. Like, really careful. No PDA in public. No PDA anywhere unless we know for a fact that we’re alone and there aren’t any cameras. And no telling anyone unless we absolutely have to for health or security reasons, or something. We can’t have this blow up on us, because if they catch you you’ll be just as much of a target for the hate and I will not have you get caught in the crossfire with this, Lando.”

He finagles around a bit until your hands are held in his and he’s pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I promise,” he whispers against your skin.

It feels like the start of something perfect.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by user, user, and 561,816 others

footballfansofficial BREAKING: Manchester City Forward Garrett Ward, a victim of infidelity?! Ward and his girlfriend Y/N L/N first revealed their romance to the world on the 5th of January. Since then, they’ve regularly shared photos of one another across the social media platform Instagram, and have been sighted on dates around Manchester and London. Though the couple have not recently shared any new posts of one another, fans believed this was due to schedule differences, as nothing has been said to indicate an end to their relationship. With the Champions League back in full swing, Ward has been constricted to a busy schedule of matches in Europe, and similarly as a photographer for Formula One team McLaren, L/N has been traveling across the globe. However, she’s apparently more than just friends with McLaren driver Lando Norris! Pictures from the 24th of March at the Australian Grand Prix in Melbourne reveal L/N and Norris sharing an intimate moment. Check the link in our bio for the full article!

view all 19,815 comments

user oh… that’s not….

user that is NOT garrett ward for sure 🫢🫢

user honestly a cheating scandal was not on my 2024 bingo card

↳ user i mean i’m not surprised but i definitely thought of the two of them it would be ward tbh 👀

user WHAT DID WE FUCKING SAY

↳ user WE ALL SAW THIS FROM A MILE AWAY

user fucking slag 🙄

user ugh!!! us REAL garrett ward fans KNEW this would happen but everyone called us crazy!!! 😠😠 he deserves someone who ACTUALLY cares about him and we knew from the beginning that she wasn’t it!! honestly just the thought that anyone could POSSIBLY do this is SICKENING!!! garrett is such a loving person and he deserves the WORLD!! i hope he doesn’t let this stop him from finding REAL love some day!! 🥺🥺🫶🫶

↳ user ikr?!?! it’s so not fair that he’d choose her when she’d just use and abuse him when he has so many loyal fans that would treat him so much better and would actually love him and all he has to offer. she totally must’ve manipulated him or something!!

user damn… i wasn't l/n’s biggest fan in the beginning but i kinda hoped she’d prove me wrong… yet here we are…

user this is seriously so disappointing to see

user SLUT 🤬 SLUT 🤬 SLUT 🤬

user long distance is not an excuse to cheat and this is such a horrible thing to do to a partner. garrett ward has been exceptionally nice to her, and this is what she gives in return? so many ppl tried to warn him about her closeness to lando norris too. i’m disappointed but not surprised that this was the result. girls like this truly have no shame and no dignity. they don’t know loyalty at all.

↳ user we tried to warn him and this is what happens? like we tried, but you ignored us and called us crazy. make it make sense 😮‍💨

↳ user the fact that he was genuinely so sweet by taking her on dates and posting her on his socials and she turns around and stabs him in the back like this… my heart hurts for how upset he must be right now. and honestly, this lando norris guy is just as much to blame for garrett’s pain too.

↳ user i’m willing to give norris the benefit of the doubt if only because we’ve seen girls like this before who manipulate athletes into giving her what she wants and if they don’t then they move onto the next. obviously ward wasn’t going to just roll over for her every whim, so now she’s moving onto the next guy and is trying to manipulate him the same way she did ward. norris is as much of a victim as ward is.

user WHORE BEHAVIOUR I CALLED IT FROM THE GET GO GUYS

user she really said “hold my beer” and went to go prove us all right about our initial assumptions 👀👀

user knew i should’ve trusted my instincts when they told me she was bad news…

user AINT NO WAY INFAMOUS WOMANIZER GARRETT WARD, AS IN NOTORIOUS CHEATER GARRETT WARD, GOT CHEATED ON BY THE FIRST GIRL HE WAS IN A SERIOUS COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP WITH 😂

user lowkey had high hopes for them bc i gen thought ward garrett was changing his ways and was trying to settle down

↳ user me toooooooo i thought she was gonna be a good influence on him 😔

user can you blame her tho?? you try moaning “garrett” in bed and see how that goes for you

user just because they haven’t said anything about ending their relationship doesn’t mean they haven’t ended it privately! honestly who are we to judge them for not telling the public every detail about their personal lives? this was obviously not a moment intended for us to see and was meant to be shared between l/n and norris, and i honestly find this account in general to be incredibly invasive as most if not all of the photographs the articles are written about are from paparazzi and look as though they were taken without the consent or knowledge of the people in them.

↳ user THANK YOU!! 🙏 i’ve been trying to say that for so long!! speculation is so dangerous and harmful to the very real people that are involved and it can have consequences on them and their careers. these pictures do look very damning, but we’re lacking context into l/n and ward’s lives and we shouldn’t judge anyone involved in this before we have the full story. for all we know, the relationship was ended and this is l/n’s new partner, in which case we should be respectful of her choices to be with someone else and should also respect their privacy and take into consideration the fact that there was probably a reason her and ward didn’t announce a split.

↳ user the only comment of sense on this entire post. istg, some of these ppl just have too much time on their hands and spend it all worrying about the love lives of celebrities that don’t even know they exist. y/n and garrett are both adults and can make decisions for themselves without needing the support or backing of people who don’t actually know anything about them beyond the persona they put on for the public. even if she did cheat, garrett’s a big boy and can take care of himself. he doesn’t need an army of women and girls either half his age or double it coming to his defense. be so fucking for real and maybe go touch some grass while you’re at it.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: we are back in business! i am very happy with this part and how it turned out. there's a bit of a time skip between pre-season testing and the australian grand prix obviously, but all questions shall be answered in the next part! thank you for reading, and i hope you enjoyed!

[malarign]

silence

contains: crush!Riki x fem!reader | genre: fluff but with angst at the beginning | tw! yn is totally blind man idk what to tell you, mild argument with a reconciliation :)) | wc: 1,0k

reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: i just thought it would be nice to write some continuation to shoulder nap, so hope you enjoy!

You shifted in your sleep as the sound of a ringing phone reached your ears. Scrunching your face in tiredness and lassitude you opened your eyes that soon got bigger at the sight in front of you. Just inches from your face was Riki, who slept soundly with his arms wrapped around you. You froze realizing you must have dozed off on him. What if you made him uncomfortable? Why didn’t he just wake you up?

Your living room filled with the sound of an incoming call, so you wanted to see who that was but Riki’s grip around your waist tightened.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled half awake and nuzzled his face against yours.

Freezing at his small action you felt how blush tinted your cheeks. What the hell is happening?

“Riki, it’s really late and I think it’s your phone not mine,” you reasoned, hoping it’ll make him let you get up but he lazily shook his head.

“I don’t get to spend time with you almost at all,” he said, voice low from his sleepiness. “And I hate it. If I knew I won’t be able to hang out with you as much as we did earlier, I wouldn't have become an idol.”

“You don’t mean it,” you said after a solid minute of being at loss for words. He dreamt of standing on a stage since you could remember. And now you could see a new side of him, a new smile that performing in front of seas of fans created. You loved watching it, just like you loved him.

“I don’t mean what?” His eyes met yours in the darkness. “Hating not being able to spend time with you or not becoming an idol?”

“Both?” you said quietly, but unfortunately loud enough for him to hear. How he wished he didn’t though.

“When will you finally realize?” he sent an ask into the ether.

You got up nervously and handed him his phone, pretending you didn’t hear his confession-like question. Riki looked up at you slightly sad and resigned and with a sigh took his phone which started ringing again. Accepting the call he heard Jungwon, who was either extremely nervous or furious.

“Riki? Where the hell are you?” His voice reached even your ears through his phone.

“At Y/n’s place, where else?” he snapped back.

“Do you know how late it is? Do you know who gets massive nagging from our manager?” Jungwon asked helplessly, but not hearing any response from the younger he continued after calming down a bit: “Send me her address, I’ll get you a cab.”

“No need to, I’ll get it myself.” Riki ended a call and without a word walked past you to the front door.

“Riki,” you called him before he could step out of your apartment. “Are we okay?”

His eyes filled with hurt looked straight into yours. Not wanting to say too much, he decided to not say anything. He just turned around and closed the door behind him leaving you confused, with a single crack on your heart.

Days passed and not even a single message was exchanged between you two, unusual for your long term friendship. The silence killed you from inside and in frustration of being ignored by him you decided to pay him a surprise visit. Greeting the security that by now knew you pretty well from all the times you watched their dance jam lives or other activities you made your way to the dance studio they always used.

“Y/n?” You heard Jungwon’s voice when you were about to step in. He looked at the determined expression that painted your face and without questioning you he said: “He’s alone. Please solve whatever happened cause he’s being unbearable.” Mumbling the last part he left you in front of the practice room.

You could hear music coming from inside accompanied by a few frustrated grunts. Taking a firm hold on a handle you stepped in. As soon as he saw it was you he stopped his routine and turned around to face you. Looking at him you tried to stay mad, but just like the day you last spoke his eyes showed hurt, making it almost impossible. But somehow you managed to spit out: “Are we gonna talk or you’re going to ignore me again?”

He lowered his head and glued his eyes to his feet. Already familiar silence suffocated you. He finally said weakly: “I like you, Y/n. Screw this, I love you. And I don’t know what else I have to do for you to finally realize that.”

Now it was him who searched for answers in your eyes. But the impact of his words dumbfounded you. So your stupid feelings were reciprocated this whole time?

“What?” you asked in a whisper. Tears brimmed abruptly in your eyes not believing what you just heard. “Say that again.”

The face you put on brought a smile to his lips. He stepped closer to you to the point the tips of your shoes touched.

“I love you.” His hand brushed the strand of your hair away and made you let out a shaky breath.

“Again.” Your voice was even more quiet.

“I love you.” He raised your head by your chin to face him properly.

“Again.”

Riki leaned in, laying a soft kiss on your lips. It took a while for you to respond but when you did both of you melted in each other’s touch. He cupped your cheeks as you placed yours at the back of his neck. Pulling away he leaned his forehead against yours.

“Can’t believe you didn’t see how crazy you made me feel throughout our friendship,” he suddenly chuckled.

“How was I supposed to know?”

“I literally said I wouldn’t become an idol for you, I think it’s quite telling,” he reasoned. “And please, I let you fall asleep on me, why on Earth would I let you do that?”

“Because we’re friends? Friends care about each other,” you said tilting your head.

“I cuddled you, in my arms. You think I cuddle Sunoo to sleep?” He tried to argue convincingly.

“You don’t?”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @kpoprhia, @redm4ri, @jaelaxies, @yenqa

[myhyperfixatedmess]

Intrusion.

Tom Riddle × Fem!Reader

You always had a hard time understanding why Tom kept you so hidden away. One night something happens that makes you realize why.

Word count: 1.7k

Content warning: Hints of a panic attack, violence, depictions of torture.

Soft!Tom makes an appearance!

You were very aware that Tom kept you at a distance from his...business.

Even during your time at school, he only allowed you to attend the Room of Requirement meetings a couple of times after much pleading. Graduating didn't change the situation much, despite your marriage; you didn't mind not knowing every detail of his plans, but the extent of your seclusion felt odd. You just wanted to understand why he kept you hidden away so intensely.

Most days, you tried to convince yourself that being the wife of the Dark Lord was enough, even if you had no say in his world-altering decisions. It was hard to ignore that some of his followers were unaware of your existence, while others knew you only as "The Dark Lord's mistress," a term you doubted Tom was aware of or would tolerate.

Though a few Death Eaters knew you from your Hogwarts days, most remained tight-lipped around you, offering mere nods or quiet acknowledgments. It was clear they feared Tom greatly; making eye contact with you seemed like a perilous act. You weren't sure if it was due to his direct orders or their assumptions about his expectations. Either way, though you couldn't really fault them for hiding from you. While you weren't scared of Tom, you could understand why others would be. 

Quiet apprehension gnawed at you as you contemplated discussing your concerns with Tom. But you reasoned that avoiding potential arguments and trusting him were better choices. After all, you were an adult now, not a teenage worrier. You had married him despite his questionable morals, so who were you to judge?

The muffled conversations behind closed doors and fleeting glimpses of secretive meetings became your new norm. Sometimes you managed to catch glimpses through cracks, only to have the door swiftly shut when you were noticed. While you occasionally wondered about his trust in you, you pushed those doubts away to avoid unnecessary distress. You remained silent, occupying yourself with your own pursuits, whether it was reading, writing, or wandering the halls of the inherited family estate.

On this particular evening, you found yourself in the library, Tom being out for the night, which didn't bother you. As you perused the shelves, a loud bang from downstairs jolted you. Frozen in place, you strained to listen for more sounds, until harsh, unfamiliar voices reached your ears. Loud and aggressive, they echoed from the ground floor.

Panic surged as you realized you were in danger. These voices weren't part of Tom's inner circle, and you backed away from the library door, realizing that someone had broken into your home. The thought of a robbery crossed your mind, but then a chilling realization struck—you hadn't considered the possibility that Tom's ambitious plans might have made enemies.

Your initial instinct was to leave the house, apparate, and contact Tom for help. But as your hand reached for your wand, you remembered it was in your room. Unlike Tom, you couldn't perform wandless magic. Trapped and helpless, the sound of angry shouting grew louder, approaching from downstairs.

With each thud of footsteps ascending the stairs, you strained to catch their words. The first voice, a man's, sent a shiver down your spine as he called out, "Where is that bitch?" It was clear they were after you, and this wasn't just a random intrusion; they intended to harm you.

Anxiety clenched at your heart. You had never felt targeted before, never imagined this vulnerability. You cursed yourself for not being better prepared, for letting yourself be defenseless and alone. As their voices drew nearer, panic coursed through you; you were trapped, with no means of escape. 

With painstaking effort, you inched backward against the library wall, the cold surface offering a stark contrast to your racing heart. The air felt thin and suffocating, your breaths shallow and uneven, while beads of sweat dotted your forehead.

They were right outside the door now.

You pressed your hands against the wall, your pulse pounding in your ears, as you prayed for them not to notice you. They pounded on the door, and you clamped your eyes shut, fear tightening its grip on you with each thud.

A shiver of dread ran down your spine as the door gave way, crashing open under their assault. Two men stormed in, wands at the ready. Your body locked up, terror stifling your voice, and you blinked back tears that threatened to betray your composure. This couldn't be real, it couldn't be happening.

The realization hit that running was futile—your exit was blocked. Your heart raced as their eyes settled on you, and you weighed your chances against them without a wand. Your legs trembled as the fear that gripped you teetered on the edge of overwhelming.

"There she is," one of the men sneered, his gaze locking onto you. Panic gripped you tighter, the world narrowing down to their menacing forms.

"We've been looking for you. I'll take her. Come along." His companion's nod was a chilling confirmation, and your pulse quickened as he aimed his wand at you. Their grip tightened, hauling you forward, and you struggled against their grasp. Your voice wavered as you spoke, desperation evident, "Don't do anything foolish. Let me go!"

Their faces twisted with anger at your words, their cruelty evident.

"Voldemort's whore has a temper," the other man taunted, the use of Voldemort's name sending a shock through you. These were Tom's followers, but why target you? They had to know the repercussions of angering him.

"What do you want with me? What are you doing?" you pleaded, flinching when the grip on your arm intensified.

"Enough talking," he snapped, his wand slicing through the air to silence you. Before you could react, the curse fell from his lips.

"Crucio."

Agony erupted, a scream tearing from your throat. Pain seared across your skin, your body convulsing as the torture curse wracked you. Darkness encroached on your vision, and you were thrown backward, a collision with a bookshelf shattering your senses.

As your awareness wavered, a silver dagger gleamed in one captor's hand, your body too weak to move. The other man grabbed your hair, his wand trained on you, while the dagger-wielding one advanced with malicious intent.

"Please, no! Tom will b—"

"Shut it!" the man spat, the blade plunging into your leg. Agony shot through you, your body wracked with pain as your screams filled the room.

"That bastard doesn't even know we're here, but he's gonna regret making a fool out of us," the man hissed, drawing closer. Nausea swelled within you, tears clouding your vision.

"Unhand her." The voice cut through the chaos, familiar and commanding.

"Tom…" you croaked weakly, blinking teary eyes to see him standing behind your assailants. His eyes blazed with fury, and you clung to his presence, your savior in this nightmare.

The attackers froze, their surprise palpable.

"M- My lord," one stammered, and Tom's lip curled with disdain.

"Ah, so it is 'my lord' now?" he seethed, closing in. The men scrambled, leaving you slumped against the bookshelf.

"We meant no disrespect, sir," one attempted, while the other looked on anxiously. "We simply were…"

"Were what?" Tom's anger laced his voice. "Please do explain your assault on my wife."

"My lord," the shorter man bowed, "We didn't know—We just thought she was some intruder!"

The taller man nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, we came for you and saw her! We thought she was breaking in, my lord, I swear!"

The lies were transparent.

"Not only did you invade my home and attack my wife, but you dare lie about it," Tom growled, his gaze steely.

"No, we're—"

"Silence!" Tom's command silenced them both.

"Both of you will go downstairs; I will address this later." The men hurried away, assuming they were off the hook. Tom turned to you, worry etched his features as he reached for your trembling hands.

"My love, can you hear me?" he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. His arms enfolded you, lifting you gently. Pain rippled through you, your vision swimming.

"Everything will be all right now, I am here," he assured softly, but your pain remained relentless. Tom's gaze shifted to your bleeding leg, his brows furrowing in concern.

"You will be fine," he said gently as he cradled you. The pain was overpowering, your vision blurring as you teetered on the brink of unconsciousness.

His voice reached you, your consciousness slipping away, but you knew he was there.

And then the darkness enveloped you.

-

When consciousness returned, you found yourself in your bed, the dull ache in your head the only lingering reminder of the ordeal. Your gaze shifted to your bandaged leg, confirming that the events weren't some nightmarish illusion. Sighing, you realized it had all been real.

You pushed yourself up, cautiously testing your body's limits. Muscles protested the movement, and a groan escaped your lips as pain surged through you. Memories of the harrowing experience played on a loop in your mind, each scene etched with vivid intensity.

Tom's voice interrupted your thoughts. "You need to rest." His presence filled the room, and you met his gaze as he spoke.

"How long was I asleep?" you questioned, trying to make sense of the passage of time.

"13 hours," he replied calmly, offering you a glass of water. He settled beside you on the bed.

"Thirteen hours!?" Shock colored your voice as you nearly dropped the glass. "I was unconscious for thirteen hours?"

Tom's reassurance came with a touch. "It is okay, you're safe now," he said, his arms encircling you. The glass of water quickly emptied as you downed it, your body yearning for hydration after the ordeal.

"So, what happened to the intruders?" you ventured, your apprehension clear in your voice.

"They have been dealt with," Tom's response was clipped, his demeanor stern. You understood the implication behind his words and chose not to press further.

"I'm sorry, Tom," you murmured, resting your head against his chest. Fatigue washed over you, threatening to pull you back into sleep.

"For what?" he inquired gently.

"Being reckless," you admitted, your eyelids growing heavy.

"I was careless too," he confessed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "They are gone now. I will never let any harm come to you again."

"Promise?" you whispered, your eyes fluttering closed.

"I promise," his reply was tender, and with a content smile, you surrendered to sleep once more.

[yeokii]

# arguments w enha hyung line !! — part two (maknae line ver)

₊﹒ wc! 0.9k

₊﹒warnings! fighting, angst

₊﹒note! ty to my dookie @redm4ri for helping me with the members (im crying) luv ya my dooks

# lee heeseung

"It's not what you think," Heeseung pleaded, irritation visible on his face.

In his head, he thought he was right. But, boy, was he off. Both you and he went to a gathering, but he had ignored you the entire day and spent time with his best friend. You trusted Heeseung with your entire heart, and seeing him do this broke your heart into little pieces.

"She came back from the states two days ago, yn," He tried to reason, "I haven't seen her in four years, for fuck's sake."

"That is no excuse for you to ignore me, Hee," you sternly said.

"God, yn! Why can't you get it in your fucking brain? She and I are fucking friends!" He scoffed, frustrated as he brushed his hair back with his hands.

"Do you think I'm stupid? She looked like she wanted to kiss you! Are you kidding me?" It was your turn to scoff.

The tension thickened as hateful words spewed from each side.

"God, yn, why are you overreacting?" He asked, annoyed. "Stop being a fucking child; she's like a sister to me."

"Do you realize she spent more time with me? Of course, I'd miss her."

"Alright, if you miss her that much, feel free to go to her. I don't give two fucks anymore." And with that, you took your jacket once again and left the apartment.

₊﹒other members under the cut !!

# park jongseong

11:34.

The clock read.

He wasn't home yet.

Your worry grew more with every minute passing. The fact that Jay wouldn't pick up the thousands of your calls. You were a nervous wreck. You couldn't sleep at all. He was never late.

The door opened, finally.

In came a tired jay, his eyes worn out and his hair all ruffled up, his tie loose.

He took one look at you and his eyes automatically rolled.

"What the fuck Jay?" You spoke.

"God, please." He said. "Not now, yn. Im too fucking tired to hear your lectures."

"Jay?" You were astonished by his behaviour. He never spoke like this which took you off guard.

"Why are you speaking like that to me?" You asked, your heart heavy. "I was so worried about you, I called you a hundred times."

"God, I just don't wanna deal with this right now. I had a long day at work. " He massaged his temples as he started to head for the bedroom.

"You could've told me you were coming late."

"Stop being a fucking baby and stop being clingy. I'm a grown ass man. Your not my fucking mother."

You had nothing left to say. You gave him a stern look as your worried expression vanished. You headed to the bedroom and slammed the door not wanting to hear anymore out of your so called boyfriend's mouth.

# sim jaeyun

"Baby, can you please tell me what's wrong?" Your boyfriend pleaded due to the silent treatment you were giving.

You ignored him as usual, continuing to do the dishes.

"I would know whats wrong if you would tell me about it." His eyes holding a desperate plea.

You looked at him with disbelief written all over your face.

"How could you forget Jake?" You asked him, your voice sounding like a slight whisper.

"What?" He uttered with confusion.

"I waited for you all day last night. How could you forget?" You held back tears that threatened to spill out of your eyes.

"Forget what baby?" His eyes searched for some sort of answer from your face.

"Our anniversary Jake."

His eyes widened, as a wave of shock washed over him.

"I'm so sorry baby, It must've slipped out of my mind I-"

"It was raining Jake. I couldn't go outside because it was raining. I had to sit there at our date waiting for you to come. I had to go back home in the rain, Jake." You let out a sob. The familiar emotion of humility emerging over you.

"Yn, I'll make it up to you. It's not a big deal."

"It is, you asshole." You looked at him, tears leaving your eyes nonstop and you left the kitchen.

# park sunghoon

"Hoon please stop." You let out a mutter to your boyfriend, slightly tugging onto his hoodie.

You both were out with your friends and you and Sunghoon were having a good time until him and your friends started joking a little too much about you that made you uncomfortable.

"What? We're just having fun." He shrugged it off, laughing.

"No Hoon. I don't feel comfortable." A rush of insecurity roamed through you.

You tugged onto Sunghoon more which showed a bit of irritation on his face.

"God yn, learn how to take a joke." He said, a frown showing on his face.

"Please, I don't like when you talk about me like that infront of my friends."

"It's just a joke, babe."

"It's not Hoon." You sternly said.

"God! Stop being a fucking baby!" He yelled at you infront of your friends.

"Oh my god! Did yn's boyfriend just yell at her? Yikes.." One of your friends told the girl next to her.

You looked around and then back at Sunghoon. Shame washed all over you. You felt so humiliated, tears started to fall out of your eyes. Everyone's eyes were on you. You felt so isolated and outnumbered.

"I'm leaving." You told Sunghoon and with that you left.

perm taglist!! @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom