#?? let me know if I should flag this as mature content

[ami-fly]

(◡‿◡)

[modern-day-bard]

Other Duties As Assigned: A Joel Miller AU Fanfiction

Content Warning: 18+ Minors, do not interact. This story includes mature themes such as drinking, stalking, violence, and explicit smut.

a/n: Hello! Thank you to anyone who has made it this far 💖 I had planned to upload two chapters each time I update the story, but life is getting away from me currently, and I want to make sure I spend enough time editing each chapter before it's posted. Depending on how crazy things get, I might have to start uploading them on separate days. The chapters are always uploaded on ao3 first (it takes less time), and I will get them over here as soon as possible. Thank you again for reading!

Chapter 9: Dodge

Word count: 2.5k

Gwen

I glance at the door to the studio for the third time in under a minute. What possessed me to agree to combat training? Self-defense, Joel had called it. But honestly, unless I’m plucked out of New York and placed on a battlefield, I’m struggling to see when I would need to use the steps Joel is walking me through right now.

“When I said we could do this in the morning, I didn’t think I’d be watching you attack fake opponents at eight a.m.”

Joel stops mid-slowmo punch. “I let you sleep in.”

“Oh, you let me? Thanks, gracious drill sergeant.”

For a moment, I think he smirks, but it vanishes as quickly as it arrived. Dystopian Warzone Training is far too important to waste time on humor.

“Did you absorb everything I just said?”

“Sure.” I don’t even try to make it sound convincing.

I wasn’t lying about what I said last night. The last time I did anything remotely similar to self-defense, I cried until I became such a disturbance to the other students that my mom carried me out. I’m not sure how much of your personality is fully formed at seven-years-old, but this part certainly stuck. Something about the fighting, even if it was rehearsed, really stresses me out. And the majority of what Joel has done so far is just talk while miming a few moves. Talking about what to do if someone approaches me from behind just makes me want to bolt. My mom and I got ice cream when we left, and I keep wanting to leave and do the same thing now, twenty years later. Or maybe I’d start with a croissant instead.

“Miss Russell?” Joel lifts a brow, and I realize that I was off in dream-land.

“What?”

“I was asking what’s one thing you remember from what I’ve told you?”

“Um…trust your instincts…element of surprise…and remember to SING.”

Joel’s brow furrows together. “I never said anything about singing.”

“No, the acronym. Solar plexus, instep, nose, groin.” I put my hands on my hips, hoping he’ll move on.

“You got that from a movie.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. It’s a good movie, but I didn’t say it.”

“Ah, he watches movies. Romcoms, even. Maybe you’re more human than I thought.”

“How am I not—you know what, no. Miss Russell, let’s run through the basics again, okay?”

I give him a non-committal nod. “Fine.”

“Trusting your instincts and using the element of surprise are correct. Just keep in mind your attacker might use those two things on you as well. Someone of your status is likely to be surprised because whoever would be near you would most likely be in an area that you already deem to be safe.”

Geez. Thanks, Joel. Now my palms are sweaty.

“I can teach you how to punch, as I demonstrated before, but maybe we should start with something else. There are maneuvers that catch people a little more off-guard. A punch is effective when administered correctly, but it’s easy to see coming. Plus, someone of your stature–”

“My stature?”

Joel holds up his palms like a white flag. “What I mean is, imagine the person approaching you is my size. It’s a lot for you to defend against. Simply using brute force to take me down won’t be possible. You’ll need to be quick and effective in your attacks.”

Unfortunately, he’s right. I’ve been trying not to look at Joel because I can’t do so without thinking of my friends’ stupid reactions to him the other night. It’s these gym clothes of his. They’re made to mold to men in a way that makes them irritatingly attractive. It’s not the fact that it’s Joel, it can’t be. It’s just a good looking guy being knowledgeable while wearing another dark compression top. It looks…slutty on him. I never understood when people got crushes on their professors, but if they were teaching me something physical…well, anyway, now I get it. Regardless, he’s almost a foot taller than me, and true to bodyguard form, he is built like a method of protection. Sculpted to shield.

Distractingly attractive, and with the combination of how legitimately nervous I am thinking of potential attackers…my system can’t seem to figure out if I’m supposed to be scared or turned on. The thought of that alone sends a pulse of panic down my arms. This man is a nuisance, regardless of how enticing the packaging might be.

“Hitting with an open hand,” Joel flexes his palm, “Reduces the risk of injury. And you can easily attack from a non-confrontational stance, like the one I have now.”

I look at the beast across from me, standing wide-legged, palms up in front of him. “You don’t look non-confrontational.”

“Well, that’s because I’m with you.”

I huff out one, short laugh. “Was that a joke?”

“No,” His tone betrays him. It was totally an attempt at a joke. “Palms up.”

I roll my eyes, mirroring his stance.

“Excellent. From here you can do a heel-palm strike,” Joel slowly brings his hand toward my nose, and I resist pulling away, “An eye strike,” he brings his other hand toward me with his fingers outstretched, “Or a knee strike.” He places his hands on my shoulders, and I jump.

“I’m sorry.” He pulls back immediately.

“It’s fine. I was just expecting your knee. That’s all.”

“I should have warned you that it’s common to use your opponent as leverage to make a strike like that. Why don’t you try those three on me?”

He stands perfectly still.

I toss my braid behind my back, squaring my shoulders, feeling like an idiot. But to give him credit, Joel’s expression is earnest and patient. I feel mean, bringing my heel up to his nose, but I do it anyway.

“Good,” he says, moving out of the way to avoid my mediocre attack. “Now, eye strike.”

I move a little faster this time, and again he moves out of the way, nodding.

Finally, I bring my hands up his shoulders, embarrassed that I have to go on my tippy toes to reach them.

“So, that might not help you with your leverage,” Joel grabs my hands, startling me just a little. He slows his movements, noticing my surprise. “Try putting them here instead,” He places my palms on his chest, and I can feel his steady heart underneath the wall of muscle. “It’s okay to push back a little while you bring your knee up, just keep the majority of the weight on your back leg so you don’t lose your balance.”

He gives me an encouraging nod, and I bring my knee up sharply.

“Hey,” He pulls back, “Close one.” I swear there is a hint of a proud smile on his face now, but it could be from embarrassment. He moves on quickly. “If you’re able, you can also use my arms as leverage,” He moves my hands, much slower this time, to wrap around his forearms. I shift my weight again, trying to ignore how his arms feel against my hands, how strong…

I hike my knee up as fast as I can.

Joel barely gets out of the way in time.

“I’m going to chock that up to you practicing the element of surprise, instead of a very literal attempt to hurt me. Well done.”

“Sorry,” I shake my head, stepping back.

“Let’s move on,” he says, rubbing one set of knuckles with the other hand. “Those are effective if your attacker is coming at you from the front. If they’re trying to surprise you, they may come at you from behind.”

Suddenly I’m thinking of my bed. If I’m facing the windows, my back is toward the door. Some masked figure could creep in at night, and attack before I would even see them. Or if I’m at dinner, and suddenly there’s something threatening pressed against my back, telling me to get up and walk out with them.

A small part of me remembers this from childhood. Some vague memory about the discussion of fighting, or attacking, or opponents, and it makes my heart rate quicken just as it did back then. At least at the time it was acceptable to just sit down on the mat and cry. I can’t remember the last time I cried in front of anyone. And I could never cry in front of Miller. Especially now that I’m irritated with him for…for…I don’t know.

“I’m going to demonstrate coming up behind you, and I’ll show you how to escape. Okay?”

“Okay,” My voice sounds clipped and hollow.

Joel moves to stand behind me and I feel all the muscles in my back tense up. I take a deep breath, trying to loosen up.

It’s just training, Gwen. You’re fine.

“You ready?”

I just nod.

Thankfully, because of the mat, I can hear Joel move the couple of steps it takes to reach me. His warm hands move slowly to cross in front of me, caging me in. This time, it doesn’t startle me. In fact, his warmth is oddly…comforting. Maybe it’s just the fact that I can’t see his distracting face with his too-sincere-eyes. That, and the fact that we’re not currently talking about all these potential threats I’m now facing. Though I suppose the threat has always been here, I just didn’t realize that anyone had taken action toward making good on that threat.

“In this position, you can’t use your arms to defend yourself.” Joel wraps his arms a little tighter around me. His words tickle my ear, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. A sensation I desperately hope goes unnoticed.

“You can headbutt your opponent, though with your height, it might be difficult. I would recommend that you drive your fist into your attacker's groin. But we’ll practice how to hit on a punching bag later.”

I nod again, actually keyed into what he’s saying now.

He releases me, but keeps his hands on my shoulders, indicating not to turn around yet. “The next one I’m going to show you is the chokehold. I won’t apply pressure, I just want to show you how to go through the motions. Is that okay?”

“Mhm,” I wonder if the small circles his thumb is drawing on my right shoulder are on purpose, or just subconscious. I wish I could close my eyes and focus only on how good it feels. In the split second as my eyes flutter shut, I’m overwhelmed by how good he smells. I’m not even sure if he showered this morning. Can a man smell that good naturally?

“Okay so anyone experienced will have one hand on your head,” He places his palm on the top of my hair, “And the other arm will wrap around you here,” He moves his right arm so that my neck rests in the crook of it. As Joel settles in, his wrapped around hand resting on my opposite shoulder, I feel like I should be doing something. Not fighting him off but… turning toward him. Or reaching behind me, grabbing his waist, pulling him closer.

“From here,” his gruff voice sounds even huskier in this stance, “You need to put space between us, so wrap your hands around my arm near your neck and pull. You’ll need less space than you think to get air through.”

I place one hand on his bicep, and one on his forearm, and pull. I don’t want to be noticing the heaviness in my chest, struggling to rise and fall with his arm resting at the top. Or how my breath catches, though he hasn’t applied any pressure, just as he said. All I know is that I’m not thinking of someone breaking into my bedroom anymore. But I’m not picturing myself alone in there, either.

“I’ll tighten just a little so you can use your weight to get away. I promise you’ll still be able to breathe. Alright?”

“Okay,” I sound short-winded, and I’ve barely even moved.

It wasn’t Joel tightening his grip on me that did it, or the feel of his arms, or the gentle way his hand rests on my head despite our position. It was this damn, low, almost inaudible grunt he let out when he pulled me closer. My back being pressed against him by his force alone, the peace it brought me where moments before a spiral had been taking over. I feel myself start to arch my back—

“No,” I say, tapping his arm rapidly with my hand. He releases me instantly, taking several steps back as I whip around to face him, even though I don’t dare look at him directly.

“I’m sorry, Miss Russell. Was it too much?” His voice is apologetic, riddled with concern.

It actually wasn’t enough.

“We don’t have to do the demonstrations if—”

“I’m hungry.” I blurt out.

Joel pauses. “If I made you uncomfortable—”

“Please, I’m not uncomfortable. I forgot to eat.” I laugh a little, hoping he’ll buy it. “I’m gonna go—” I was going to say I’m going to get bagels, but he would be required to come with me. And I need to keep him and his stupid, chiseled chest as far away from me as possible. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Don’t you need to eat?” He doesn’t look like he’s trying to tease me, even though I know he can tell I’m lying. His big brown eyes are still full of worry.

“Yeah I’ll grab a granola bar or something,” I say as I stride toward the door of the studio, yanking it open. I don’t check to see if he follows me, and even though I assume he will, I make it all the way back on to the elevator and into my foyer without hearing his footsteps. Once inside, I lightly slap my face.

“What are you thinking, Gwen. You can’t stand him.” I whisper, shuddering on my way to the bathroom.

But I know what I was thinking. I was thinking of those concerned eyes, and that natural, musky smell. And how I found myself wishing that Ryan-Brian the other night had hair like Joel’s so I could pull the ends of his waves as we kissed. I was thinking about those broad, broad shoulders. And how, despite other people in my life who claimed to care about my well-being, he had been the only one to tell me the truth about the break-in.

You don’t know his motivations. You don’t know why he’s really here.

The cynic is clawing at the hormonal part of my brain, imploring me to stick to the plan. Get him out of here.

But as that thought floats through my mind, it’s not determination that latches on to it, but fear.

I don’t want him to leave.

Rationally, it must be because of any legitimate threat that could come my way. It’s not because it’s him. I’m just unsatisfied right now. And I know just who to call to remedy that situation and refocus.

So, before I can hear Joel walk through the elevator doors, I turn on the water, and proceed to take the coldest shower I’ve ever had.

Next Chapter

Previous chapter

Masterlist

[trashprinceward]

EVERYONE LISTEN UP, THIS IS IMPORTANT!

I'm going to talk about the history of Tumblr, the current state of Tumblr, and why you should get out.

And you can call me a hypocrite, sure. But as an artist who depended a lot on commissions and art sales, I only came back to Tumblr because this is where the audience and active fandoms are. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't be here.

So, you've probably heard people calling tumblr "the queerest place on the internet". Probably more ironically that sincerely, lately. But the reason for this is that, at one point, it was true. Tumblr was synonymous with gay shit, all over the internet. That was this site's reputation. To the point that what the right wingers call "woke" these days, used to be called "tumblr shit". Tumblr was the BIGGEST resource for LGBT+ communities, information, advice and connection. That was here, on this site. Ask boxes thrived with friendship and fun games, artists got regular commissions and their work was shared. And, as much of a cliche as it may be to say this, Tumblr was a 'safe space'.

Then everything changed in 2018. I don't know how many of you were here for that, but that's when all this started. That's when we had porn bots. They'd start reblogging random posts, adding pictures of straight up porn. Naked people, straight up fucking. No tags, no warnings. Just uncensored porn and those stupid "click here to fuck me" captions. They were everywhere, constantly. And staff did nothing about it. No moderation, no kind of adding verification or new accounts. They just let the problem fester. Why should they care? Until they were threatened with being kicked off the app store, at least. Then they moved to do something about it.

So, instead of pulling together a human moderation team, or temporarily limiting new accounts, or doing any kind of intuitive policing of these spam bots, they just decided to make a blanket ban of all NSFW content, the enforcing of which would be carried out by AI bots. This, as you can probably guess, was a monumental failure. Anything that remotely looked like naked flesh was tagged as mature (a particularly infamous example features a picture of sand dunes being tagged as mature). And perhaps most tellingly of this failure, it didn't get rid of porn bots.

What it did get rid of though, was artists. Myself included. I was a mature artist. I had a NSFT sideblog. I sold commissions, I made money. It wasn't exactly career level, but I made enough that commissions helped me to eat when all my money went on bills. Then that was gone. Even SFW art wasn't entirely safe, because if the bot decided that your art had too much "skin" in it, you were flagged. (And at the time, I drew a lot of Jojo art, so I was screwed on that front.) So I had to leave. To find a new site where I could post my art, and try to continue selling commissions. The problem with this? Only a handful of people followed me offsite. I had roughly 300 followers on here. About 5 came with me to twitter. And then about 2 came with me to pillowfort. I had lost everything. Artists all over lost their following, lost their support, lost their income. All because people couldn't be bothered to boycott their funny fandom website.

But that wasn't all. Because now staff saw they had an opportunity. This bot they had created, was going around flagging anything mature, sometimes outright deleting posts or banning blogs that were too 'NSFT'. So... What group is often inherently seen as NSFT or sexualised? Yep, you guessed it. The queer community. And so that's what they did. They struck it all down. The biggest LGBT community on the internet, and they used the "porn ban" excuse to start flagging and deleting blogs. Never touched the nazi blogs, or the white supremacists, or that one blog that would doxx gay people in homophobic countries. Nope, they were left alone. But the most prominent, notable and well known queer blogs were gone. And again, the majority of the userbase was ok with this. They stayed.

I left this site for 5 years. And I tried to make it work elsewhere, I really did. I went to twitter. But over there nobody retweets work, nobody comments on your art. I only had like 2 regular supporters. I haven't gained followers in YEARS. Literally the only reason I still post to twitter is because Airdorf retweets FAITH fanarts. I tried going to pillowfort, which is honestly like a BETTER version of Tumblr. But, it was empty. Nobody was there. I even offered to give out free invite links to pillowfort so other people could join up too! Nobody ever responded to me. So I gave up. After 5 years with almost no interaction, almost no commission sales. No friends, nobody to talk to, nothing to do, nowhere to go... I came back here. And interaction is so much better (even though it's still a struggle to get people to actually talk to me). But I hate being here because I know what this site is like.

Also I know how complacent people are. The things they did back then, they're still doing now. Flagging trans women as mature, straight up banning them for no reason, spreading around campaigns of hate. Its STILL happening. And you're all still here sitting "oh this is awful, this website is transphobic" and then go back to reblogging memes. I saw a poll recently that asked what people would do if tumblr closed down or kicked them out, and the majority answer was just "give up social media completely" and it's like, really? There are plenty of alternatives out there. Artists and creators, and LGBT activists and whoever have been BEGGING you to join us, but you just wont. People would rather sit in this sinking ship till it goes down than make the leap and follow us into the lifeboats.

And I'm saying this again now because there have been talks about tumblr making a deal with midjourney. Because they want to feed all our art, our selfies, our hard work into the AI slop machine. So history is repeating itself again, and once more artists will be begging you to please come with us. Please get off this site. Please come to a place that isn't actively trying to get rid of us.

Me... I'll be staying here as long as I'm able because this is the only place I have any kind of audience. But if you can, if you care about friends, if you care about artists, if you care about queer people. PLEASE come with us. If the worst comes to it, then I'll be leaving for pillowfort. Please, PLEASE come with me. I have invitations, I can send you one so you can join. Send me a message and ask me. Just please, don't die with this place.

[dailyenglishvoca]

Hey so regarding that last song I posted, the Gumi v6 one: I've deleted it because someone flagged that the art in the video was AI-generated and I'm not about that shit here, that's not fair to the countless hardworking visual artists in the vocal synthesizer crowd and beyond. I try to screen any songs I post, mostly for content warning reasons (flashing lights, mature themes, etc) but I still need to get better at watching out for generative AI stuff. Also, it's just me running this blog, so now and then, things slip by until a follower with a fresh pair of eyes points it out.

And I highly encourage that! Vocasynth has a unique relationship with artificial intelligence that I think, for the most part, sets a good example for how to use that kind of tech responsibly and ethically, and I definitely feel a sense of responsibility to help maintain that balance. I will be working harder going forward to check that I am not posting works that use AI "artwork" or the like, but should something get past me again, please let me know!

[angelhairpastawithherbs]

weird thing happening with my reblog and fic, so there's a notif that i'll get every so often about a like and then when i go to the actual notif thing, there's nobody new there but the count for notes will go up one, i'm not sure what this means because if its someone blocked they shouldn't be able to see anything i make or know i even exist, and if it's a blog that's flagged for mature content because of age then it should at least show something just not let me see anything on their blog

didn't quite get the user because it went away quickly, or in one case i got a real real notif outside of the green bar at the bottom that someone liked something but deleted it because i didn't think anything of it, it's happened about three times now in total

the user is something about candles? or something close to it but again not sure, this was the thing it happened most recently to so i guess look at the likes and send me something with either all who's liked it or just a screenshot, unless it's the same for you please

[lalal-99]

Preview II | My Favourite Workout {s.c.}

Story is out now!

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature - Thank You!

Explicit content below cut!

Your boyfriend’s lips met yours again, this time a little rougher as he visibly wanted to speed things along. Soon enough, his tongue met your neck as he sucked on the skin, causing another moan to leave you. After years of being together, he seemingly knew where your buttons were.

As Changbin’s lips met your breast, your moaning turned into groaning, the frustration reaching a new high. His mouth wrapped around your nipple, lightly grazing it with his teeth before he let his tongue run over it. The arching of your back was the only indication he needed to know that you liked his advances.

When his hands ran down your arms and to your waist, you felt goosebumps rise all over your body as a rush of blood went to your core. You had always loved how your boyfriend could turn you to mush at his hands, especially now that you had seen him work out. All the strength in his arms didn’t change how carefully he treated you as if you’d break under too much pressure.

Your hands came to Changbin’s hair as he kissed all over your chest, entangling with the bundle as you closed your eyes and threw your head back at the pleasure he was causing you. Only when he went further down, eventually landing on his knees, did you look down at him again, a smile spreading on your lips as you knew what was coming.

“These,” Changbin’s hands came around your thighs as she slapped one of them, “they make me go crazy. I couldn’t stop thinking about burying my head between them when you were doing the exercise earlier. And I do think we should get one of those exercise machines for our house. Just so we can misuse it. Every. Single. Day.”

With those words, Changbin started dragging your shorts down your legs, effectively taking your panties off with them. You quickly swiped them away with your foot so they wouldn’t get in the way of things.

“I think there are machines for that exact use. Why don’t we get one of those?” you questioned as you couldn’t deny that the thought excited you a little. Smaller toys had been part of your love life since the beginning, but never something as massive as this.

“And I think that I absolutely fucking love you.”

Story is out now!

[biopanik]

The Morality of Fandom Activities

This might as well be an essay, so apologies for my long asf post. Just a few heads up: this is in no way talking about people who support incest irl and MAPS. Those are extreme cases that I'm not qualified myself to talk about, I only know that I don't want them on my page 😭

I stopped having a very active social media presence when I was finishing high school. For me, this was a huge deal, because as the token weird queer kid all my life, Tumblr and fandom culture provided a safe space for self-expression, developing my writing skills and exploring myself. Fandoms usually play a huge role for teens, since their interactions and their experiences shape their mindsets into the primary form their adult brain takes. Whenever I look at my old posts, I can see the points where I was maturing, I could see my opinions change very clearly without always connecting old posts to significant life events.

What is very important to take into account is that I was in ALL the "red flag" fandoms, even some niche ones. BNHA, Homestuck, RWBY, Okegom, Voltron, you name it. I was into it, I had Instagram edits of it saved on my phone. As a result, I am familiar with all kinds of fujoshi, yuri bros, proshippers, etc. I'm not here to inform you about my entire digital footprint though. I'm here to discuss fandom morality. Fair warning, I will be referring to a bunch of dark themes vaguely.

I want to start by saying I understand the appeal of a toxic ship. A ship that is straight-up problematic given the context of the story. Be it because the characters are abusive to each other, a very big age gap or them being blood relatives - I get it, even if I'm one of the people who's easily repelled by this shit. I get why Junjou Romantica, for example, became so popular. The big body proportions, the "forbidden romance" trope, the guilty pleasure, I get it. I understand how nerdy young women would fawn over yaoi because they craved a soft male touch. I understand the south park proshippers because they inserted their younger selves into the characters and imagined scenarios where their own fucked-up childhoods would make sense.

My experience with Funamusea helped me understand that things that are taboo can be appealing in a fictional form. There were a lot of issues because the horror used in Funa's games was centered around sexual battery and assault. To me, that made perfect sense. Funa games are packed to the brim with gore, war, mental abuse, and disturbing characters. Of course, there would be SA in such a fucked up setting. Rape is a horrifying thing that no one should face because it is a subcategory of violence. VIOLENCE IS SOMETHING NO ONE SHOULD EVER COME ACROSS. Therefore, why is it that people who write stories containing this trope receive so much hate, but 1940s war aus for example get praised? Why is FMA a pacifist masterpiece and not torture porn?

For "glorifying" real-life horrors? Triggering people? Let's broaden this.

Think of your favorite slasher film. Your favorite best-seller horror book. Do you think that the people behind these stories are freaks and murderers? Psychopaths are capable of fitting in anywhere they want, even fucking churches. So it is useless to assume creators are moral instigators for their VILLAINS. Now let's think about Colleen Hoover and Sara J Maas (or as I like to call her, Sara J Ass). Their "love" stories are super popular because of the immense marketing that they have received, despite profiting off romanticized harmful content. Backlash is still minimized in contrast to anime niche, because they are backed by million-dollar industries and the fact that they conform to the norms of a straight story. Although that, is a topic for another discussion - how problematic characteristics are "musts" in irl relationships.

Lastly, I want to talk about the so-called community saviors who want to protect these platforms. Those who want to build a safe environment so that no predators infiltrate our sacred grounds where we discuss Persona 5 ABO dynamics. A lot of them are oftentimes victims of this sort of abuse. I myself have come across groomers. But tbh 15yo kids who reblog Shiro X Keith are not really the enemy? Anyway, that's a little besides the point. I want to directly talk to these people right now, hear me out: you are hypocrites. You only pretend to care about Tumblr communities but do not hesitate to accuse someone of abuse (any kind) and tell them to end their life. How are you protecting anyone like this? How are you a positive role model for the children partaking in fandom activities when you show clearly that you wish death upon someone. VIOLENCE IS SOMETHING NO ONE SHOULD EVER COME ACROSS, I re-iterate and you possibly agree, but YOU ARE STILL VIOLENT, and justify it by being "virtuous". How are you any different from @\hivliving? Her actions will forever be engraved in her victims' heads, even if she was humiliated in the end. Then again, it would have been better for her to write a shitty low-quality fic about Hamilton having HIV or whatever the fuck, if looking up basic things about HIV was so difficult. After 7 years in & out of fandoms, there's one thing I'm fine with, and that's bad fics.

Ultimately there is so much more I want to say. I might cover this topic on my bestie and I's podcast sometime (soz it's in Greek). The bottom line here though is not about keeping a neutral stance on problematic media. It is to enjoy whatever the fuck you want just because it makes you happy. It is to differentiate what's a wolf in sheep's clothing from what's a sheep. It is to accept that kids will ALWAYS lie about their age to access all sorts of NSFW. God knows I did so. It is to recognize them and realize that their creators and fans are most likely not going to act out every bad thing that occurs in said story. Because if that were the case, with the rise of all the Yeagerists, we'd have so many bitchless college students trying to start little rumblings of their own, and the world would be a much funnier place.

Now go outside and spread your moral philosophies to people outside your Discord server

[ovaryacted]

Ok to give context. I think a popular trans woman on tumblr was banned for a raunchy photo (I think? It might’ve just been a normal photo) and she made a loony-toons style threat to the CEO (something about hitting a car with a hammer and exploding?).

The CEO, in an elon musk ass way, went fully dick and just straight up deleted her entire blog. And I THINK the reason given is the “NSFW photo” or something.

There’s also been a trend of pro-trans posts getting flagged as mature for no reason at all.

Meanwhile, Leon, in furry BDSM gear and his cock out, gets 1# trending, is reblogged by tumblr staff and not even marked as “mature”. Which exposes tumblr staffs unfair treatment of trans posts.

Yea, Leon with his cock out has helped expose the transphobia with this sites staff making him a 100% trans ally.

Okay see, I literally didn’t know any of this so thank you for the added context cause otherwise this would just pass by me.

That’s actually crazy though. Now I get why that gif brought so much concern and yeah, the double standard is stupid. I’ve always hated how trans people in particular and queer people over all are always policed for how they choose to express themselves even in NSFW content, but when you have cis-appearing individuals even fictional ones literally naked as hell, then it’s no issue.

Tumblr’s censoring issues always show some form of favoritism, like there’s other things that really should be addressed but sure, let’s rave about the Leon Anubis dick and balls mod and censors everything else yay! It’s also icky cause yeah that was funny at first but now it just highlights the hyper-sexualization of male characters across the board. Leon doesn’t even have a bulge or bouncing mechanics in the game, but people who make these mods be going crazy on not just Leon but all the characters too so yeah. I do get why it’s done, it’s for fun, but still sometimes I just go ???.

Glad that the Leon gif exposed the hypocrisy though, very much needed and necessary. Fuck the TERFs. Leon is an ally no question about it.

[gryphonlover]

I was just thinking recently about how to be an ally to my queer friends on tumblr. Do you have any suggestions? What kinds of things would be supportive and gender affirming to you? How can mutuals support you?

The good news is that asking those questions is one of the most important parts of being a queer ally. 👍 Now this does get a bit long because I'm trying to explain as much as possible to give you a solid idea of how to approach things, so I'm putting it under a readmore.

General Advice

One way you can communicate that you're an ally is by making that clear on your blog. This can mean displaying an image like the straight ally flag, or just saying that your blog is a safe space for queer folks. I don't know how other queer folks feel about the straight ally flag, but I'm of the opinion that it's a great communication device, which is really what all flags are for in the first place.

Most queer folks will have their pronouns in their blog. It could mean that they're transgender or intersex, or it could mean that they're just an ally to those folks. You can't tell unless they let you know, but it's usually safe to say they are an ally at minimum. This means that putting your pronouns on your blog can signal that you're a safe person. It also frees us from the awkwardness that is asking for someone's pronouns, although it should be noted it is always better to ask than to assume.

Reblogging/liking content that's queer-friendly is another good way to show support. It tells people that you're safe and friendly, with the added bonus of interacting with a queer Tumblr's content. I'm of the opinion that it's good for everyone to mingle as long as no one is hurt in the process. I don't really see straight, cisgender folks do this, and I think it's probably because they don't really know any queer folks or they don't feel comfortable engaging with queer content. It can be awkward, but I think the only queer stuff I'd recommend straight, cisgender folks to avoid putting on their blogs is discourse, especially if it's nuanced because that gets really messy really fast and you might not have context for what's going on. But if you like a gay fanfic, or someone you know took some beautiful photos of pride? You're probably fine hitting the buttons on those.

Something that's recently popped up is a significant increase in bots distributing spam in queer tags. A lot of this spam is designed to look like transgender people in sexually suggestive and/or explicit photos. If you spot a post like this, and you're sure the account is a spam account, it's best to report it. Reporting the post and/or blog as spam and then blocking the bot account is the best thing you can do. If you're not sure, then just block the account and a queer person will probably come along and take care of it later. The bots are very problematic because they're taking advantage of the people whose photos they've acquired and they're putting mature content in the community tags without any content warnings.

If you don't understand a queer label, slogan, etc. you can either look it up on a queer wiki (like this one!) or just ask a queer person. Personally, I am more than happy to explain what I know if someone has a question. A lot of other folks are, too. They will let you know if your question is rude, but in general it's better to ask with a genuine desire to understand than to assume anything.

Supporting Me Specifically

I don't have my legal name listed online for multiple reasons, such as internet safety and the fact that it is a gendered name. I ask people to either use my username or call me Gryphon if they want to use an actual name I go by. I don't respond to names that aren't mine, so if you try to use anything else it just won't work. :)

In English, I generally prefer that people refer to me by using "they" instead of "he" or "she" because it's gender neutral. This is obviously an issue in gendered languages. In these cases, I normally use neopronouns. In Portuguese this means using "elu" instead of "ele" or "ela." It might take some practice to get the hang of, but it's the thought that counts.

Adding on to the previous bullet point, I don't normally use other gendered terms to refer to myself (with rare exceptions). In practice, this means replacing "man" or "woman" with "person." The same goes for honorifics. Instead of being "Mr" or "Ms" you should use "Mx." In Portuguese this means using "senhore" instead of "senhor" or "senhora."

I'm asexual. This means I'm not straight or gay, and is not something that will change if I have a partner. Straight, gay, and lesbian are, unfortunately, gendered terms and thus I do not use them. More detailed information is on a need to know basis.

TL;DR: The best thing you can do to show support is avoid using gendered language when you talk to or about me.

If you've read this far, I hope I've been able to give you some practical advice. If you have more questions, feel free to drop those in the askbox, comments, tags, etc. I've got plenty of time to write out explanations for people these days.

[librosamarillos]

passed down like folk songs

chapter 30: fantasies

Maegor Targaryen x OC

Also on Ao3

chapter index

Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

this chapter contains nsfw content

Ceryse stared at Martyn, thinking over what he had just told her carefully. She had been chatting with Morgan in her room when their eldest brother walked in, holding a raven scroll from Oldtown. Her father had been filled in with everything that had been happening and with the tensions and uprisings that kept popping up, he had told all three of his children to return to the safety of their home. 

She missed her father dearly. She missed her home, her handmaidens, her goodsister, her nephew, her family all in one place. She considered it. At first she had refused to leave out of stubborn pride, refusing to let Maegor’s stupidity rob her of her place in the King’s court, but now that things grew more tense, she wasn’t so sure that King’s Landing was the safest place she could be. 

“What are you thinking of, Ceryse?” Morgan asked, as he grew uncomfortable with the long silence. She looked at him, then back at the raven scroll in her hands. Her father’s careful and proper, unmistakable handwriting. She let her finger trace the paper, her eyes pensive. 

“I don’t know.” she admitted. Her brothers both nodded, having a similar train of thought. On one hand, she could tell her goodbrother that she missed her family and only wished to visit them for a while, but on the other, her presence in court could be crucial at times like these. She was the link to Oldtown, a link her goodbrother needed, and it could do wonders for their house. Was that not her purpose here, her betrothal and marriage to that dumbass? Why should his recklessness rob her and her house of the prestige they could earn with the crown? Why should she abandon ship? While things were dangerous, it wasn’t like the city was under siege, the Targaryens still had dragons, it would be fine.

“You don’t have to decide right away-”

“I’m staying.” she cut Martyn off before he could finish his sentence. “Things are not that dangerous here and the King will need someone from Oldtown by his side.” she explained to her two perplexed brothers. Martyn gave her an understanding nod, but Morgan was not so easily swayed.

“Are you sure about this? Remember that Martyn has to return home soon and while I’ll be by your side, we’re both away from home and our banners.” he countered. Her little brother was always more keen on fighting and strategy. She used to roll her eyes at him, but now she found that he was smart to think of the worst that could happen.

“I don’t think it’ll come to that.” she replied. “Rowan’s been back to the dowager Queen’s service, and she tells me that there’s no reason for worry over our safety. She will not hesitate to use Vhagar to protect the Red Keep.” she said. It would look quite funny, would it not? Visenya, on her giant dragon, protecting the nephew she despises and the gooddaughter she cannot stand, both in the half finished castle that was their home. Funny may not exactly be the right word for it.

“She’s back in her service? Why?” Morgan asked a little too quickly, making Martyn’s usual stoic facade crack into an amused smile. The more time Rowan spent with the three Hightowers, the more… interested, he grew. Ceryse didn’t mind it, it would be nice for Rowan to join their family, despite it meaning that she’d move to Oldtown. She’d have an even bigger excuse to return home to see her.

“I’m assuming because that’s her job here.” Martyn said, raising his eyebrow, while he and Ceryse shared an amused look. Morgan looked like he finally understood what he sounded like and quickly shook his head.

“I’m only concerned for her, are you two not? She is working for the woman who actively allowed her son to betray you, Ceryse! The gods only know what she could be making her do in her name, and how could she refuse?” he asked, annoyed at how calm his siblings were. Ceryse frowned, crossing her arms, scroll still in hand. 

She was worried about Rowan, if she was truly honest. She saw her friend fall into a sorrow she hadn’t seen before, despite how much Rowan tried to hide it, her eyes were unable to lie, they always betrayed her. Whatever task she was given by the King and the former Queen, it seemed to do nothing to lift her mood. The only thing that made her genuinely smile was the letter that Lana sent from Highgarden, announcing her arrival to the capital soon, as her father had been requested to join the King’s small council. 

“She wouldn’t do that.” Ceryse said, after some thought. “Rowan is the only daughter of her most trusted advisor. She wouldn’t do anything to drive him away, not when she’s facing pushback and needs allies.” she explained further. Morgan looked away for a moment, trying to find any hole in her explanation, but Martyn beat him to it.

“Lord Evergreen is a dear friend of our father, Morgan. He is an ally of Oldtown, our houses have been joint many times, both in common cause and in marriage. He will not choose the will of the dowager Queen over the wellbeing of Oldtown and our faith.” Martyn added to Ceryse’s point. It felt like when they were children and they had to help their little brother catch up. He used to hate it, and even now, she could swear she could see him pouting slightly. 

“If you’re this concerned, perhaps you could go speak to her. She could be happy to have a strong knight offering his protection.” she laughed, causing Morgan to blush and frown. Even Martyn was laughing, but before the youngest brother could hurl insults at them, the door knocked rather loudly.

The three Hightower siblings were surprised to see the King, alongside his new hand, Murmison, enter the spacious chambers. Ceryse felt embarrassed, as she was dressed in her nightgown, thankfully in her modest robe covering it all, but it still felt strange to be seen by anyone else like this. The two brothers bowed and she curtsied, confusion on all three of their faces, but before they could exchange pleasantries, Aenys spoke up.

“I’m sorry to bother you this late, goodsister, but this simply could not wait.” he said, almost excitedly, gesturing to the man next to him. “You remember septon Murmison, right? Remember how I told you he could help you? Well, it can start tonight!” he said, clapping his hands, decorated by so many rings that she could not count. Her brothers eyed the man carefully, Martyn thinking his words carefully before speaking up.

“Your grace, my sister is young and healthy, why would this be needed? Just because the Prince of Dragonstone was so impatient does not place any blame onto her.” he said. The calm yet firm tone of his voice allowed Ceryse to let out a silent sigh of relief. She was so glad he was still there, still at her defence during all of this madness.

“My lord, it is only to help the situation.” the King explained, his smile not faltering. Did her goodbrother truly not understand how insane this was? She knew the Targaryens only converted to the faith as lip service, but was he truly this blind? Did he think that all the faithful believed in this man’s so-called miracles?

“Many have doubts, my lord, I do not blame you. It is a strange and rather unorthodox method, but the gods have blessed me with this gift to heal, and if you let me share it with your sister, I am certain it will help her situation greatly.” Murmison spoke up. She looked at the man, this septon. He was not as old and grey as her uncle, but his brown hair was mostly taken over by the grey. She wanted to roll her eyes. Help. As if.

“And how will you share this gift, septon? By touching my sister?” Morgan’s voice startled both the septon and the King. In fact, Aenys looked mortified at the very blatant implications Morgan had thrown in his face. Had it been anyone else, had it been his father or brother, they’d take his tongue out right there and then. But Aenys did not have the time for a reaction, as Murmison spoke again.

“No touch is necessary, my lord, no need for alarm. Only lightly so, over the lady’s womb, while the prayers are chanted.” he explained, as if it was so normal. Ceryse noticed that all four men were looking at her, and what choice did she truly have but to nod. 

She felt uneasy, being stared at by the King himself, as she was instructed to lay on her bed while this man traced circles in the air, right above her womb, chanting prayers to the mother, asking her to heal her wounded womb. She wanted to pull on the septon’s beard, to yell at him that her womb was just fine. The maesters found nothing wrong with her, the archmaester himself took to check her health. While the septon prayed to the mother for fertility, Ceryse prayed to the mother for patience and strength. It felt so humiliating, but the one saving grace was the fact that her brothers were there, eyeing the two men carefully, Morgan almost looking for an excuse to lunge at the bearded septon.

“So, for how long will this have to happen?” Ceryse asked, when the septon finished his so-called treatment of her infertility. If she had to endure this, she refused to be alone. She’d have her brothers by her side, she felt safe with them.

“Yes, our… goodbrother will not return for five more years, and even when he does, will she have to welcome him in her bed as if he didn’t commit treason and betray her? Are you going to be doing this to her for five years?” Morgan asked, his tone starting out calm, trying to imitate their eldest brother, but in the end it came out more accusatory. The King looked uneasy at the question, nervously looking at his hand to answer first. Gods, this was frustrating beyond words.

“I will feel it when it has worked, my lord.” Murmison replied, and Ceryse decided she hated his voice. She sat up and crossed her arms, biting her lip so that she wouldn’t say something snarky and inappropriate in front of a septon and the King.

“Ah, I see.” Martyn said, crossing his arms as well. The septon seemed to feel the glare of the three Hightower siblings and it made him slightly nervous. Perhaps he remembered their maternal uncle was the High septon, the man that could denounce him if they urged him to, and she was absolutely writing to him about all this. He put his hands up, as if calming down some frightened children, which made her frown even more.

“It will not take five years, my lady, do not fret.” he smiled an uneasy smile, one that solidified that this man had no idea what he was doing. Why in the seven hells would she fret when there was nothing wrong with her? 

“How wonderful!” Aenys smiled, clasping his hands together happily. Ceryse pitied him. He missed his brother, no matter how big of an asshole he was, and he was trying to bait him into coming back and setting this new woman aside. Did he think that Ceryse would welcome Maegor back with open arms? Did he think the faith would just overlook the huge slight and transgression against them? Did he not think this through at all?

It became a regular occurrence, twice a week, Murmison would come, perform his little miracle, offer her empty words and promises of progress and repeat. Sometimes both her brothers were there, sometimes Rowan joined them, sometimes it was just Rowan, soon Lana returned and joined in, sometimes both her brothers and friends would be staring daggers at the back of the septon’s head. It made Ceryse smile, even laugh.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t still yearn for a child of her own. Sure, it would be half of Maegor, but she would be the babe’s mother. She would help raise a human, another person, a prince or princess. Part of her was glad that she didn’t bring an innocent child into this insane family, but part of her still mourned. Even if Maegor returned to her, she doubted she’d ever let him back into her bed, let alone give him a child. For all she knew, he’d already been trying to get this Alys pregnant, and she was sure they’d get news of an upcoming pregnancy soon.

She tried to not think too much about it all, focusing instead on Lana’s return to court and the new gossip she brought back from Highgarden. She noticed that Rowan appeared more distant, and as curious as she was, she knew she could not ask her about what was going on. She worked for both the King and the dowager Queen, surely her head would be on a spike if she revealed the wrong thing to the wrong person. Ceryse settled for squeezing her hand reassuringly, which Rowan seemed to appreciate dearly. 

She kept telling herself that things would be well. Better, even. 

Maegor’s routine had been getting better. Instead of wallowing in his room all day long, he had hired some sellswords to train with. He found that a lot of his emotions were easier to handle after spending the whole day fighting, taking out all his aggression. He was angry at everything, noticing himself becoming more violent by the day, wondering what he’d even be like in five years after returning to Westeros.

It wasn’t all anger though. He carried a lot of shame on his shoulders, a shame that he couldn’t shake off no matter how many hours he spent in the training yard. His mother had written him back swiftly, keeping him updated on the happenings in court. She had mentioned that Aenys appointed some lunatic to replace him and that he was apparently going to ‘cure’ Ceryse with some miracle. Maegor wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be disappointed at his brother for doing this, but he currently had no say in things. He trusted that his mother was there to prevent any huge disaster, as much as the thought frustrated him. She should be enjoying her years in peace, relaxing after all her hard work, but with a King like Aenys, she simply could not afford to do so. But none of these facts were the cause of his shame, no.

It was what his mother cryptically included at the end of the letter, hidden in such a way that wouldn’t raise suspicion had someone else read the letter. Between the lines she had told him that she gave Rowan his letter to keep and that he should be very careful with writing anything about his feelings, should the letter fall into the wrong hands. She also wrote that Rowan’s father, Duncan, couldn’t stay any longer and had to return to Starfall to continue the family business. Thinking of his beloved and her father brought him such shame that he didn’t know what to do with it.

It warmed his heart to know that Rowan had his letter, he wished to write her a thousand more, despite how impossible and dangerous it would be to even attempt it, but it also made him so incredibly sad, ashamed even, because that was all he could offer her, a small paragraph in a letter. Nothing like what he truly wanted to give her, his eyes darting back to the oils and fabric and gold that he got with her in mind, but for now, little words of love was all he could send her. 

Then there was Duncan. The man he had known since he was a babe, as one of his mother’s most trusted companions, and even her friend. He was always wary of anyone that wasn’t his mother. As a Prince, let alone a dragon, he knew from an early age that people wanted to get as close as possible, sending their sons to be his companions and squires, but Maegor saw right through it and had no tolerance for it. Seeing as his father was never around, many lords tried to become father figures, at least before Maegor was old enough to yell at them and threaten their lives. And amongst all who came and went through the years, there was Duncan Evergreen. 

It used to absolutely infuriate him how patient of a man Duncan was. No matter how much he yelled and kicked and screamed at him, Duncan still returned for half the year, never losing his patience and his kind tone. He was truly a terror of a child, as his mother often joked. He looked back at his childhood with a lot of anger and a lot of shame. Anger at his father for everything, but shame at himself for not leaning more onto Duncan. He was the one who was there for him consistently, and yet he still didn’t let him get close. It was no wonder he was so hesitant to let him meet Rowan at all.

He had a lot to thank Duncan Evergreen for. He would change so much, looking back with the eyes of an adult and seeing all he couldn’t see as a child. Well, rather, he refused to see, as he still clung onto the hope that his father would somehow return to Dragonstone and tell him he was proud of him and that he loved him and the fact that he was never there for him growing up was just a crazy misunderstanding, despite the very real fact that he had  abandoned him to be with his preferred and favourite family. What a horrible thing this notalgia was. Still, to this day, he still hoped that some part of his father’s heart had him in it.

While his father was off living the life of his dreams in King’s Landing, it was Duncan who was there, cheering him on while he trained and taking care of him when he had scrapes and bruises. He wished he could go back and thank him instead of glaring at him warily. All of these things seemed so small, yet they were the things that stuck with him the most. 

Of course, he could never thank him enough for bringing his daughter to Dragonstone. How could he know then that that action alone would change his life for the better. He couldn’t imagine a life without her in it, and yet here he was, without her. He had hurt his sweet girl so much. He felt so weak, so ashamed, for being unable to control the one decision that could’ve made his life paradise. He hated himself for being weak, for not fighting his father over it, for being stupid and naive enough to believe in his empty words that night.

He had spent the whole day training, having hired twenty men to take turns to fight with him. Now he was laying on his bed, having bathed and cleaned off all the filth of the day, and he was pondering on what to do. It was technically time for supper soon, but Maegor wasn't hungry at all. He stared off into the dimly lit room, considering calling it an early night so he’d have more energy to train in the morning. He had become so eager to sleep more these days, as when he closed his eyes, he could see his Rowan next to him, a sweet illusion to heal any negative feeling that he had. He’d talk to her in his mind, and he could imagine her sweet voice replying in his ear. He told her he missed her, that he was sorry, that he longed for her, so many things he wished he could tell her in truth.

His sentimentality was interrupted with a knock on his door. He was immediately annoyed, as he had already told the maids to not bring him any dinner.

“What is it?” he asked loudly, not even bothering to get up to open the door, instead eager to return to his beloved in his dream. Perhaps he should’ve been more clear with the staff, that he would not like to be bothered unless the very building was burning down, but he hadn’t, having his Rowan in mind, who would be disappointed in him if he did so.

“It is I, husband. I wish to speak with you, if you have the time.” he heard the familiar voice of Alys say through the door. That took him by surprise. He thought he made it obvious that she was to leave him alone, but perhaps this was some sort of emergency, or even something of importance. He hoped she wouldn’t try to drag him outside again to try and get him to go to some tavern she discovered in her ventures. He sighed and gave her the permission to enter, which she eagerly did. 

“What is it, Alys? I thought you still had enough gold for the month.” he said, annoyed, but Alys did not seem at all offended by his jab. He took a moment to study her. She wore a very revealing nightgown, one that she no doubt had made for her here, and Maegor began to understand where she wanted to stir the conversation.

“It’s not the gold, you give me more than enough, for which I’m very grateful for. I only wanted to talk to you about my part of the deal.” she said, her tone carefree and casual. Maegor looked at her, his eyes not revealing any of his inner thoughts. In truth, he could not even think of coupling at all in, gods, how long had it been? “I understand you’re a very busy man, I only wish to know how to best please you.” she elaborated, making sure to pull her hair out of the way to better expose the revealing nightgown.

“How to best please me…” Maegor trailed, looking at her intently. He wanted to send her away, to tell her he had no mood for anything like that, but his brain knew he had to get an heir out of her. If he didn’t, then what was all this mess for? 

“I know men tend to have preferences and I want you to know that I’m eager to meet any of them that you might have.” she smiled, pleased that she managed to shift his expression to one of thought. Maegor looked at her carefully, a thought coming to him, one that should have him even more ashamed than he was before. What was the reason she had even caught his eye in the first place? 

“Come with me.” he said plainly, getting up to leave his chambers. Alys was baffled for a moment, as if she hadn’t expected her suggestion to have worked this quickly, but she followed him as he took a few things from his room. She soon realised he was leading her to her own room, but he didn’t say much else as to why. She’d understand soon.

He placed a few glass bottles, the oils and soaps, on the table and opened the wardrobe full of her dresses. She had certainly been having a lot of fun shopping, and he was sure she had more on the way from the seamstresses and tailors. As he scanned and rummaged through them all, he was happy to find what he was looking for. It was a lacy, green nightgown, nothing as elaborate as what she was currently wearing, but it didn’t matter. He turned back to her.

“I want you to call the maids to help you with these creams and oils.” he gestured at the bottles and her eyes followed his hand. “Then, change into this and come back to my chambers. And let your hair down.” he added finally, before turning to leave, not allowing any place for questions.

He looked around his chambers, putting out some more candles to make the room as dark as he’d like it, just enough to see her. He knew what he was doing, and any sane man would be ashamed, but Alys didn’t know and she was the one that asked him for his… preferences, so it wasn’t some heinous crime. It still filled him with guilt to do this, but he couldn’t afford to wait any longer. If he were to return to Westeros and take the crown and throne from his brother, he would need an heir, preferably two, even three. In order to get that, he would have to lay with Alys, so why not make it an experience he wouldn’t hate?

Soon, she walked through the door, wearing a long robe, perhaps for modesty, which was hilarious considering what she walked in wearing before, but he made no comment. Instead he sat down on the bed silently, as she walked toward him slowly, shedding off the long robe on the way. As soon as she did, the sweet scent of jasmine filled his nose. Yes, this could work just fine. She had curled her hair in a way that was close to what Rowan’s hair naturally looked like, and the maids had covered it in the oils, making the scent even more intense. 

She stopped right in front of him, in the green lace nightgown, a bit hesitant of what to do next, so she leaned in to kiss him. Maegor let her, but any hope to even come close to the feeling he was truly chasing vanished as she did. Her lips felt nothing like his darling’s did, and he soon pushed her back. For a moment they both just stared at each other, his mind trying to find a solution for this. He studied her face for a moment and made his decision. 

“Turn around.” he commanded, and as soon as she did, he sat back on the bed and pulled her to sit on him, facing completely away. He could feel she was confused, maybe even offended, but he didn’t care at all. 

For another moment he paused, looking at the woman before him. The few candles he had left on made it so that the candlelight gave the illusion that everything was warmer than it truly was, that her pale skin had more of a golden kiss to it, and that her curled brown hair looked to be the auburn he was hoping it would be. Yes, this was as close to perfect as it could be, given everything. He held her hips firmly, hesitating for a moment, before guiding her to grind on him, which she eagerly did.

As she began grinding, she slowly picked up her pace, feeling him harden in his breeches. Maegor let out only a few sighs, pleased with the outcome, with the illusion he had created. Through his half lidded eyes, he could so easily pretend that it was his Rowan he was holding and guiding on his crotch. He let himself relax, losing himself in that familiar, lovely jasmine, even reaching over to run his hand through her hair. It was almost scary how well this was working for him. If he tried hard enough, he could even imagine Rowan’s voice pleading with him to keep going, to keep teasing her more. 

Alys started letting out small moans of pleasure, enjoying the hot friction between them. He wasn’t sure if he just disliked it or hated it. Her voice was nothing like his darling’s, nothing at all. It wasn’t sweet and soft and kind, and every noise that came out of her mouth cracked the illusion he was trying to create. He wanted to tell her to be quiet, but chose against it, as he thought it would be awkward to have sex with someone in complete silence. He decided to put up with it. He could just try to ignore her voice.

He groped her ass, fantasising what it would truly feel like to touch his Rowan in such an intimate way. He spent years looking over at her like the biggest pervert, imagining what her body looked like beneath all those modest layers she wore, he spent so many nights stroking himself, wishing it was her gentle hand instead. He stopped her grinding hips, pausing for a moment to pull himself out of his breeches, letting out a sigh of relief. Alys looked back at him curiously, but turned back around when he shot her a warning glare.

He let out another sigh when he pulled up her nightgown, feeling her bare heat grinding on him once more. He could feel her wetness building up more and more and he could not make himself wait anymore. He pushed her off of his lap and onto the bed. She was on all fours, her face hidden away in the sheets. Maegor rubbed her ass a bit more, letting his mind run wild with fantasies, as he slowly pushed himself in. 

She let out a long moan, her hands gripping the sheets, and he gave her a moment to adjust to him. He’d never be this cold to his Rowan, no, never. He’d have her on the softest silk sheets, with the most comfortable pillows and he’d make her feel so comfortable and safe, taking her slowly and carefully, the way she deserved to be taken. He took hold of Alys’ hair, pretending once more. He wondered if his love would like it if he was a bit rough with her. He’d never assume, but what if she did? He pulled on her hair as she moaned in pleasure and he pretended it was Rowan moaning his name.

He began to thrust into her, experimenting with his pace until he was satisfied. He looked at Alys, satisfied that in this light, if he squinted, he could see his Rowan, or an image of her, a fake little dream to comfort himself with. He could never ask Ceryse to do this, she was smart, she’d figure it all out immediately. Besides, she was too much like Rowan to make the illusion comfortable. She was too close to her, too dear to her for this not to feel dirty and wrong. In many ways, he should be ashamed of this, how would he even confess this to his beloved? But the more he pounded into her, the more he pulled on her jasmine perfumed hair, the less everything else mattered. It was Rowan he was holding, his sweet beloved.

He bit his lip tightly as he growled, afraid he’d start chanting her name like a prayer, a plea to the gods to grant him his wishes. The closer he came to his climax, the more real the fantasy before him became. He could swear that, between the growls and the wet slapping of their skin, he could hear Rowan’s sweet voice calling his name, begging him to go faster, for more. He could feel his cock throb, as through half lidded eyes, he saw his Rowan’s sweet face turn to smile at him, her freckled cheeks flushed fully red. That sent him over the edge, his rough hands gripping onto her hips, as he came with a loud growl, emptying his seed inside of her.

He remained still for a moment, catching his breath, before taking a pillow and turning Alys on her back as he pulled out, laying her so that the pillow held up her hips. Her brown eyes looked up at him in confusion, before she nodded in understanding. He hoped his seed would take. The torment of exile would be much easier to bear if he held his child in his arms. He dressed himself in his nightclothes and laid back to the head of the bed, just as he did before Alys came in, now deep in thought.

It felt good. He hated to admit it to himself, but this felt good. He couldn’t recall a time when sex didn’t feel like an absolute chore he had to do every night, both of his wedding nights being mechanical and much of the same routine. But this? This delusion he had created for himself felt amazing in comparison. He was away from any prying ears in court, Alys had no idea what she was doing, so was there truly any harm? If he was going to get himself an heir, at least it felt good. 

“Did I please you, husband?” Alys’ voice brought him back to the present and his violet eyes snapped at her direction. She looked tired, but she smiled eagerly, not at all deterred by his deep frown. Then again, this was what they had agreed to, was it not?

“Yes.” he grunted, looking away from her, the illusion now gone completely. “I’ll call upon you with similar directions. Rather, I’ll tell the maids how to prepare you. You did good.” he said, after some thought. Alys smiled and nodded, pleased with the outcome. 

“I’m happy to hear that.” she said, now not completely out of breath. “You know, I don’t mind anything you could ask of me- well, unless it’s something totally crazy, but even then, I’d give it a try. It’s good that we do this often.” she said, playing with a brown curl. She was in a chatty mood, and Maegor just wanted this to be over. He wasn’t interested in getting to know her; it would destroy any illusions he could build with her.

“It’s been enough time, you can go back to your rooms. I’ll call upon you when you’re needed.” he ordered dismissively. Alys seemed a bit taken aback by his tone, but again, she didn’t let it deter her. She awkwardly got up, trying to not make a complete mess in his room, and wrapped herself in her robe. She looked like she almost went to curtsy, but decided it would be a bad idea.

“Goodnight, husband.” she said in her chipper tone, before she closed the door behind her, leaving Maegor alone with his thoughts. 

He took the pillow back to the stack next to him, pleased to see that they had left no mess at all. He got up and snuffed out the rest of the candles, leaving the moonlight to light the room up. He sighed as he laid back down on his bed, his thoughts an absolute mess. He still felt that shame and the betrayal to his darling, but also a calm, an eerie calm, as he told himself that this was the closest to Rowan he could get.

He closed his eyes, dreaming that he held her in his arms, kissing the top of her head and lulling her to sleep. He dreamt that she was there, smiling at him, telling him she missed him while he prepared her favourite tea for her and fed her grapes. His sweet girl…

taglist:@heartstalked@stupidocupido@discowizard88@slytherisstuff

[thisisyourprincipalspeaking]

A few things here:

1) he has never done something like post IG montages for any other public relationship. Even before he had IG, unless I am mistaken he never did any of this with his past GFs, and they all had IG even if he didn’t. In fact, I believe he never even posted about any partner publicly in the past and very rarely spoke about them except in passing.

He did, however, publicly engage in SM with his ex Jenny and it was wholesome and cute for the most part. He was seen out and about with her and other exes and there are photos from fans and lots of sightings. He even attended a family fueled red carpet with Jenny. These are all things out in the open.

The montage IG stuff has never felt genuine and I think that’s why red flags and questions were brought up.

Ryan and Eva and Chris and Elsa - both show their relationships with tons of PR. They’re both well received by the public and probably the fans too so whatever they do you most likely won’t find it too cringe.

People have hated the PT person since the start so no matter what, people were going to hate this. It’s clear in a lot of anon’s comments that they feel negatively about this situation so now he’s a “teenager” with her but Ryan and Eva are very mature. I agree that Ryan and Eva have been together much longer but if you saw “his” past relationships and how this stuff didn’t happen with those women - it should raise a question of why now this looks vastly different.

2) there’s a bit too much of claiming he likes attention when all the celebs just mentioned here also like attention and pick and choose what they post. Using cillian Murphy as a comparison also makes little sense to me because yeah he doesn’t have SM and he appears private but he’s also in the public eye when he needs to be. You don’t know if he’s getting comped trips and private parties (he most likely is) because you haven’t seen him post anything about that. Hence because he doesn’t have SM. All celebs who get to a certain point in their career will get comps and free trips and they’re allowed to take advantage of that if they wish. It’s not like “he” is flaunting his trips - he posts a thank here or there for comps in the past and he’s seen with his family at Disney and pictures are taken. What’s the big deal? Why is he not allowed to like these things?

“He” likes certain things he can get like trips and etc. ok? And? Does this make him any different than any other person? I don’t see him in the headlines or being papped every other day.

Suddenly he loves attention since this lame relationship appeared and fans are mad they have to know about it. For two years nobody ever saw these two and yall were mad but now they did some pap walks and you’re still mad. To claim he gets a pass from people makes little sense to me because all I see on tumblr are people criticizing him 24:7 and coming onto pages like yours to vent.

He doesn’t really do much or show much when he’s not being seen publicly and so I don’t believe he’s out there thriving for meaningless attention. And his fans are viewing him under a microscope so they’re going to zero in on him in all ways.

Lastly, he and his cofounder for his website did the legwork leading up to launching the platform. They did months of backend work and went to DC to knock on politician doors and conduct interviews and who knows what else behind the scenes. Some of you claiming he didn’t do much work and is only the face is also wrong because if that were true, then why is it always his fault the site didn’t mention this or didn’t post this? It’s either he didn’t do anything and has nothing to do with the content being presented or he’s in charge of all decisions and because they didn’t discuss ABC topic or they let certain politicians have a platform it means he’s the reason this is happening.

You can’t have it both ways.

when you say "you" at the end, anon, i'm not sure if you're addressing the proverbial, collective you or if you're specifically addressing the principal.

if you're addressing the collective you, aka the fandom, then in a way you're correct. not everyone (the proverbial you) can be satisfied all at the same time. it's impossible. but remember that much of what is shown is intentionally crafted to create conversation- whether that conversation is good/bad cannot be controlled and those who craft the stories count on there being some people to fall on each side in order to elongate the discourse.

on your list item 1): while i agree with your overall point, i don't agree with your supporting details. twitter was not created for sharing photos. that's what instagram was created for. twitter was originally created as a way for users to use short messaging services (SMS = texting) to microblog their random thoughts to groups of followers. it was 4 years before the site had the functionality for pictures/videos. so these comparisons are not evenly yoked. people also act differently in different relationships.

i agree with your point about jenny and that the ig montage did not feel genuine.

on your list item 2): all celebs like attention when it comes to their careers. they want their projects to do well so that they are profitable and are more likely to get future job offers. cillian, as you said, is public when the job calls for it. not having social media is his prerogative, and that's fantastic. but his not having social media isn't necessarily why you don't see whether or not he receives comped perks. part of the deal with comped offers is that the company/venue is allowed to advertise your visit in order to attract attention to their business. which is why you see chris, and other celebs, posting about their trips to these "great places" or how they "love this particular restaurant/product/service" because that's part of the exchange. it's not because the celeb wants to invite the public into their daily lives or their private vacations. your questions:

what’s the big deal? >>> there isn't one

why is he not allowed to like these things? >>> he is

does this make him any different than any other person? >>> different than any other person? yes, very much so. different from any other celebrity? no, not at all.

chris doesn't have to do much in order to get himself out there because the fandom- and for a long time, the gp- does it for him. you even said so yourself when you mentioned how his relationship with jenny was documented by sightings coming from fans. this doesn't make him "thriving for meaningless attention" it makes him smart. he has previously, and still does from some fans, get a pass for a lot of behaviors because he was so well-loved and paraded around the idea of him as the all-american boy next door. when someone has been feeding that narrative for a long time, and fans have eaten up that narrative to the point of defending him, giving him the benefit of the doubt, covering for his oopsies, and talking up his projects as to keep his name relevant and constantly trending to then have that long-supported image shattered, fans are allowed to be upset by that. and yes, they are allowed to vent about it here (to an extent, see the rules).

on your last item: i agree with you that chris and mark did a lot of legwork, prep, and collaborating for asp for a good while before launch. i think the anon ask you're referencing, the anon was speaking more regarding recent content and promotion. chris has been noticeably absent. in defense, early on the objective was made clear that the plan was for ce to take a backseat once the project was up and going. while i understand that was always the goal, and that he has had a lot of other professional and personal things happening that have taken his attention, the state of america (and the world) hasn't really been an ideal time to take a backseat. based on previous behavior in recent political tribulation, the chris that really roped in a lot of fans would have spoken up. now, with asp's reputation paired with his wife's association with racism and bigotry, his silence is that much louder - especially for these allied fans and any fans of color or minority.

the principal isn't asking to have it both ways. the principal is asking for students to see it both ways and realize either is plausible. chris is a very privileged white man who doesn't need an army of troops and i could be wrong, if so i apologize in advance, but your ask has a tone of defense to it and feels like you are wanting everyone to give chris a break because he's not a bad person. the principal has never said he's a bad person; he's a human. so if your ask is specifically addressing the principal, then it's dangerously misdirected.

[haus-mom]

pinned post

hello and welcome to guidingThulite's blog for reblogs!

my name is alma (i also go by amaya!) and i'm 18+. not the blog, even though tumblr flagged it as mature?????? i rarely post nsfw and if i do it's mostly jokes, but whatevs. someday i'll go rogue and post female presenting nipples so they flag me for a reason

oh also here's my strawpage!!! send me something fun!

about my frequent tags and some more info below!

you want to commission me? here!

you just want to give me money? very much appreciated! here, too!

generally, for miscellaneous memes and stuff that i don't post about as often so i feel there's no need for a tag, i use #misc!

if i like a post a lot, i'll tag it as #fav!

if i go off in the tags, i usually add #alma rambles. it's also the tag i use for asks! though sometimes i forget and i use #alma answers instead. and sometimes i forget to use #alma rambles altogether

though me rambling on the tags is the norm but still

i also have a tag for those cheesy and often badly photoshopped valentine cards. just because.

my fandom tags!

right now i'm hyperfixating on project sekai, so that's what you'll see the most of in the blog. the tag is #proseka. i mostly post about tsukasa, but kanade and minori are my other two favs!!! mmj is my fav group! i am also a big defender of rarepairs so you'll see like. a lot lmao.

i wrote an akks fanfic that i treat like my child. updates VERY sporadically but i talk about it often. because it's my child

it's probably because i've been a vocaloid fan ever since the dawn of time (2011). the tag is #vocaloid! i'd talk about my fav producers but it's honestly a p big list hehe

i also really like kagerou project. the tag is #kagepro! i'm a big harutaka enthusiast. yuukei yesterday makes me cry. also a shintaka truther. poly yuukei quartet in general.

if there's something you should know about me is that i have a very-not-healthy-very-not-normal obsession with anything created by game dev #parun. i played re:kinder when i was like 13 and it genuinely changed me as a person. the tag's not organized like at all but someday it will. maybe. click for me rambling about how much me playing re:kinder changed the timeline or whatever. i've also played heisei pistol show and gone through gote to handa and if! gote to handa made me experience shrimp emotions. BIG DISCLAIMER OR WARNING OR SOMETHING. EITHER WAY, PLEASE READ: this has happened to me before, so if you want to play re:kinder because i don't stop talking about it or anything like that, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE look up the trigger warnings or ask me, i don't mind providing them. it's a VERY HEAVY game and i don't recommend you play it if you aren't feeling well mentally. let's ignore that's what i did when i was 13 but hey! i was 13!

i'm a big nintendo as in the franchises fan, so i post a lot about it! i usually use the tag #nintendo for smash bros-related content and some misc nintendo franchises that i reblog less often

i have been posting a lot about super mario lately.the tag is #mario. mostly misc stuff but sometimes i'll get into A Mood and it'll be either super paper mario or the mario & luigi rpgs (esp superstarsaga, peasley my beloved)

the mother trilogy is my most beloved and mother 3 is my favorite game ever so yeah. the tag is #earthbound!

there's also kirby! who doesn't love kirby? i love that li'l guy. the tag is #kirby. i pretend i understand the lore but every day i grow more confused.

now, as for regrettable decissions: the pokemon tag is just #pokemon even though i post about mainline, mystery dungeon and other spin offs often. everything is mixed. oh god. explorers is my beloved and, as you can see, hau is my son. sinnoh has my heart.

speaking of confusing storylines! i am, regrettably, a homestuck fan. the #homestuck tag could be completely replaced with a johnkat tag though. it's either johnkat or classpecting with next to no inbetween. i complain about canon a lot too lol

i'm a big ace attorney fan, i've played all the games! though i left the crossover midway and never played again. someday, i guess. the tag is #ace attorney! i also have a separate tag for dai gyakuten saiban, or the great ace attorney, #dgs spoilers are tagged for the latter two as "dgs spoilers" and "dgs2 spoilers"

i am also a jojo's bizarre adventure fan! i've seen parts 1-6 and i mostly post about narancia. i love that funky little dude. the tag is #jjba!

speaking about mafia-related animes, i also enjoy bungou stray dogs! when i say i enjoy bsd i mean i post ranpo and only ranpo. ok that's not true. i post ranpoe and ada found family too :> the tag is #bsd!

now, for something completely different, osomatsu-san! i can't say i have something i post more than anything but i really, really like beni and i'm always talking about how they're my brother and i frfr. i don't post blm-tsu. the tag is #ososan!

i post about the disastrous life of saiki k. the tag is #tdlosk and i am very normal about akechi. i promise.

speaking of akechis! #persona is also a thing. 4 is my favorite but anything with hamuko on it is an instant reblog from me. i lied though. my fav persona game is q2. but only 3 people including me played it in the west. it's okay. that means i'm hikari's number 1 fan!

i used to be the biggest inazuma eleven nut back in 2018 and sometimes i miss it so i reblog spree until i'm normal again. the tag is #inaele! the fandom was really small so i just reblogged whatever i liked, but i have a really soft spot for hamano, hayami and kurama, aka inago's second year trio!

i also like yokai watch a lot! the tag is #yokai watch. i would die for hailey and USApyon. my fav game is 3! you might see this red-haired catboy fucker around too. he's my son. regrettably.

things i don't really post about that often but they have a tag so might as well put it here:

#kingdom hearts

#twewy

#sonic

#warioware

#danganronpa

#parappa the rapper

#sam and max (slowly BUT SURELY getting into it)

#disney (doubles as an epic mickey tag ig)

#phineas and ferb and #milo murphy's law

#steven universe

#captain underpants

#hxh

#dragon ball

#rhythm heaven

#genshin impact

#puyopuyo

#haikyuu

#keroro gunso. or sgt frog. idk. frog alien man :)

#your turn to die

#rpg maker games

#wander over yonder

#undertale (doubles as a deltarune tag)

#owari no seraph

#lisa trilogy (the first, the painful, the joyful, you know the works)

#ffix (like a couple of posts or so)

#dungeon meshi

#bugsnax

#ocposting (self-explanatory. i'm open to questions about my oc's if you have any!)

#miraculous ladybug

there's probably more i'm forgetting but i'll add them as i remember!

[uncle-fruity]

How the fuck do I send @staff feedback? Because if I have to see one more goddamn Project Makeover ad I'm gonna lose it.

I fucking hate these misogynistic piece of shit ads. They're disgusting. No young girl should ever have to be exposed to that shit, and I'd like to remind Tumblr staff that they've got quite a few younger members on their website.

Get this shit off my dash. Get it off everyone's dash. At least stop showing me ads that I've REPEATEDLY FLAGGED as inappropriate & offensive. I'm starting to hate this website as much as I hate every other social media I have fallen out with and since abandoned.

Or maybe y'all are too busy flagging trans folks' selfies as "Mature Content" to give a fuck about the message these horrendous ads send out.

I know y'all are desperate for money, but this is pathetic and irresponsible and every single person who lets it happen without saying something should be ashamed of themselves.

Fuck you, Tumblr staff. Do better.

[lycanthropic-desires]

So, tumblr nuked me again. A quick FYI, there is no point appealing getting nuked. Almost a 3 month wait and no help from support except 'please send your full blog name' in reply to them emailing me the full blog name they nuked 🙄.

Anyway, glutton for punishment that I am, I have returned.

Second FYI, I strongly believe tumblr is using the new community label system to get people to 'self flag' mature content rather than waiting for people to report it. I know of several blogs now that have started using the new labels and were gone within a week.

Oh, about me. I suppose I should really, it ls only polite.

Actually, nah. Do it the old fashioned way. If you want to know anything, come say hi. I may surprise you and actually be a nice guy. Weirder things happen on tumblr.

Asks always welcome.

DM if you want to chat.

If you are struggling or your head is in a dark place and need to let the demons out, this is a safe place. Message me. I will listen without judgement.

Stay safe out there people.

[starry-mist]

S4e16 thoughts:

Help. I am in a glass case of emotion. It's just SO GOOD.

Charlie to Maya about the attack on Rebel: That must be your worst nightmare.

Because this is literally his worst nightmare.

Jesse asking Sarah how Charlie's doing is awesome, because he knows that she's going to be perceptive in this situation when it comes to him and Rex.

The unraveling of Sarah's relationship with Michael would have worked so much better if it had been spread over several episodes. Though I suppose one could take the lying in episode 14 as a symptom that things are perhaps not all that solid, but the forgiveness after that...ugh. I don't love how they handled the relationship in general, but in hindsight I will accept it as the obvious plot device that it was.

(Also, Michael totally adopted Bentley, fight me.)

In another universe, I would totally ship Charlie with his vet (I forget if they've given her a name.)

The team seems to finally be acknowledging that Charlie is not okay. Way to go for realizing this after how many months? Solid investigative skills there, team...But anyway, there's no way Charlie should have been on this case, and he should have been pulled from it after taking Maya to the scene where she beat up a suspect. Oops.

The Charlie and Michael scene. Damn. Whip them out, boys. (Watch this post get flagged as mature content.)

Rex making the rounds at the station to give each of his humans some comfort. Love that for them.

Charah finally having some actual conflict. Yessssssss. Give me more.

Let’s pretend Sarah's hair doesn’t change lengths multiple times over the span of this ep…

It's amusing to see Henry Higgins from Murdoch Mysteries as a bad guy.

I could watch Charlie walk into the lab and say “you were right” a thousand times. (It's possible I have at this point.)

"When you want somebody who isn’t available" YOU PUT ON YOUR BIG BOY PANTS AND FUCKING DEAL, CHARLIE. But he gets points for actually finally TALKING ABOUT HIS FEELINGS.

The bullpen is such an awkwardly public place for a breakup.

The literal cliffhanger. Help, I have died. I still want to see the alternate ending they apparently filmed though.

Rest in peace, Paul Pope. If you haven't ever done so, I highly recommend searching articles about him/interviews with him. He did so much for the Newfoundland film scene. This show would not exist without his efforts.

[erenspussy420]

Take Me With You (fanfic)

A shameless plug in for a fic I made for a male disney princess x oc. 

Warnings will apply: for slight yandere themes, mature themes, and suggestive content. Smut is added in later. Female Original Character, the oc’s world is taking place in a futuristic material world.

Summary:

“Take me with you, for laughs, for the unknown, take me with you.”- Schmendrick the Magician, The Last Unicorn.

Somewhere in the cosmos, someone enjoys watching her trying not to rip her hair out with every turn of the page of game that was probably cursed. To end each route with a fairy tale ending or at least a happy ending . Even so, trying to leave when a prince clings to you, asking you not to leave them behind is hard.

"Take me with you."

(mature themes) (original female characters

Chapter one: Paralogue

‘Let’s have a late dinner’- was the message sent to her. Above in their diamond cages, Gogo dancers call out to her to ‘come play with us~’ beckoning her to come closer, as she brushes past grasping hands that reach for her. Victoria waved good-bye to her friends as she strode past them, blowing kisses to her girls.

‘You’re alive, thank God.’ A ride request to one of the cabbies and another text comes, directions and a surprise. 

‘I’ll meet you at the cafe, I have something for you.’  The cab pulls away from the club and off another text goes. The city life is loud as its bright lights that overtook the night stars' brilliance, the sidewalks over crowded, her cabbie driver honking her horn at a punk jay walker. A dancing hologram ad, advertising a new game flashes dangerously close to the roads.

‘Can’t wait, see you soon :)’

.

.

The overhead radio plays the charming song 'El Adventuro' throwing her back to countless nights as a kid waiting for her parents to leave a party. Now it's with Amos who hasn't said anything to her for the past ten minutes after throwing himself into her booth, he then begins ordering a drink with the startled waitress. Slapped a little white box with a red bow on the table, with a slurred voice," Your birthday gift." And slumped over in his seat accompanied by a loud crack.

"Ay hijo no," Victoria got up to fix him up, Amos let her drag his corpse to a non-back breaking position, she patted his short hair gently."Nap, you'll smell your coffee before you know it." 

 She smooths the wrinkles of her short, blue glittery dress and takes a sip of her drink, waiting for Amos to remember who he is and how he came to be. Said friend was dead to the world. Glancing down at his tan coat, she felt sympathy at the familiar sight of demon ick staining the bottom of his tan coat, still wet dripping on the plastic. Shaking her head, she wipes off the stains with a frown. Hopefully no one noticed it.

 ‘That's not gonna come off, Amos, you have to soak that stuff immediately,’ Their jobs were often messy, a true mark of an experienced master in their field, is the cleanliness of their clothes.’‘He must have come here straight from the mission, poor Amos, sweetie needs to eat.’

A red coffee mug appears, and true as the sun rises in the east, so did Amos. Victoria snorts when Amos screeches after burning his tongue. Amos, gangly and boney whose tall height made him look almost skeletal, sipped slowly from his coffee mug paying no attention to her. The bright neon lights of a dancing pink pig flash across them, drawing harshness to his face.

"Amos," she called to him, taking his attention from the window." You should have something to eat, you look hungry."

A "pwshh" escapes him, Amos runs his hand through his short red hair. "Yeah, I haven't eaten anything since yesterday," he confesses,”I don’t know what to eat, pick for me Victoria, I trust you.” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

"Don't make me pull out my dagger."

"Tiny compared to my sword." Victoria pats her purse.

"How the fuck does that even fit in there?" Amos sadly didn't get his answer.

 Victoria flags down a waitress, speaking to her with ease in Spanish-  picking at dishes that would fill them both up. She hadn't eaten anything when she left the club and the horchata can only do so much. Amos had already finished his coffee by the time their other drinks arrived. Amos looked tired, his eyes sullen as he gazed at the dancing pink mascot of the cafe El Pequeñito Puerco. Whatever case he had been assigned to, it had left its mark. Victoria reaches over to Amos, patting his hands in a show of comfort. “Thank you for coming home,” Victoria says to him, focusing on the warmth she felt. 

Thank you, for coming back alive, was unsaid.

Amos squeezed her hand gently before letting go. “I did make a promise, and you know I don’t take those lightly.” he said. A quirk of his lips, that faded quickly as it came. He picks up the little red box by its big bow and slips it back over to her,”Here, I missed your birthday, so I got you this game. I heard how much you love those otome dating games.”

“Of course, you heard that! ” Victoria covers her mouth to laugh,”Don’t judge me Amos, how can I resist those pretty faces?” She’s pretty weak to them, seeing as Lei is the one who convinced her to play video games. Games leave a bad taste on her tongue, as in typical Lei fashion somehow got a hold of the possessed ones that get them trapped in another dimension.

To be fair, it’s a rare thing to happen, Lei just happens to be a special case.

 Funnily enough, otome games were the few they got to enjoy without the dimension crisis. Gushing over the gorgeous leads, men or women, didn’t matter who they would go for in the end– what really mattered were the craziest choices they could find. Anything for the memes. Then they cry over the loveable NPC players who got fodder off, boo’ing the male lead, and reading lines with bad voice overs. Lei was the one who made her fall in love with otome games, even if he managed to make her wary of going to the arcade with him. Charming her to go, with that stupidly handsome grin that makes her weak-kneed, and ends with her on his lap.

God, did she miss him.

“It’s a new one that came out a while back,” Amos continued, he played with the fried beans on his plate, mixing it with bowls worth of Salvadorian crema. Victoria side eyed him for that, he took it when she wasn’t looking again.”I think you might like it's one of those fairy tale ones, the game practically endless with all the stories it has. Plus, I promise you it’s not haunted or anything! No possession records either!”

“No time loops?” Victoria asked suspicious of it. She speared at the red box with her fork, not trusting it enough to touch it, never mind  before. Time loops were horrible pockets of dimensions never-ending reruns and she had enough of those for a lifetime. This world has never lacked a horror that drags the unassuming, the innocent and the naivety of those who not once thought of them. Even a simple pleasure such as games, brings her weariness. "You checked it before, right? Amos?"

“None! I made sure of it,” Amos said confidently, finally some color returning to his pale cheeks. Amos stuffed his face with gusto, his plate of chile relleno was disappearing at a fast rate. So fast that he accidently gets some of the sauce on the sleeve of his coat. Victoria lets out a puff of laughter as he curses. ”Oh come on! Ugh forget it! Listen, that game is the best one out so far, so you better play it.” He jabs his fork to make his point clear.

"Oh monsieur, please be merciful!" A wry grin curls her mouth, her hoop earrings dance as she shakes her head, ”Now keep eating, you blackhole or I’m leaving you to the undead vampires– they’re haunting the parks tonight.” She should dig into her own food, unless she wanted soggy tostadas de tinga. She brushes her hair back, careful to not get it caught on the wooden buttons of her cardigan.

“That’s a myth!” was all Amos said.

The two chatted over their dinner, swapping stories of past trips, Amos retelling of the possessed doll he encountered in his recent case that ended up with setting it on fire. "Listen, that doll had to die, so I pulled out my hairspray and lighter then started blasting." 

Then Victoria kept him up with her research of folk-lore cases from decades ago. It had started with one tale then another until she spiraled into burying herself in books. She had dived right back into fairy tales and binging on old Disney movies. Amos immediately made fun of her for it and she introduced him to her new shiny heels. Her gift was left untouched. With their plates having been taken away, Amos sat back against the worn plastic padding, making loud groans.

“I can feel my guts rearrange themselves,” Amos slumped over.

“Don’t die here, Amos, I can’t drag your body back to your apartment, these are new shoes.” Victoria hums, she towers over him waving the receipt,” I paid already, so come on get up and let’s go.”

“Your tall ass can literally carry me over there like a sack of potatoes. Now, leave me here so I can remember how to walk again,” Amos bemoaned, a snicker later before the lanky man crawled out of his seat,”okay okay let's go already, good food, I need to come here more.”

“Oh, definitely. Thank you for the food,” Victoria calls over, waving goodbye to their waitress who thanked them for coming. They leave the warm bright restaurant, and into the crisp cold night. Their breath comes out like silver wisps. Shivering, Victoria pulls her thick cardigan closer to her, she was not made for the cold! Her stockings did little to protect her, this is what she gets for not changing at the club. The night sky was clear of any clouds, leaving the moon full and luminous. Clear enough, they could see the red painted moon colonies that looked eerily like a scar.

A comfortable silence settled between them as they headed towards Amoss’ car. Despite the rocky start, this ended on a good note to her. It’s been too long since she’s seen Amos, longer had it been since she had met up with any of her other friends. Nothing unusual, as those who work in their fields leave for long periods, and disappear even faster than a whisper could be said in between the spaces.

Victoria will drop everything to see them, before anything could happen again.

“Thanks for getting the meal, Victoria, I’ll pay next time. How has your sabbatical been by the way?” Amos asked. Off in the distance a loud cry of a train can be heard over the loud music of the city life. Bright lights illuminated every corner, bathing them in reds and yellows. They stood by his car, parked down a little ways as terrible the parking was in the city.”I heard they gave you two years, for….well you know.”

He looked away from her, so someone told him then.

“Fine,” Victoria said, it was really fine. She had a lot of time on her hands now, things to pursue, study, and take time to remember herself. Time dedicated to family, visiting Ms. Zhang. She had done a lot of cleaning the apartment and cooking new recipes, she even got to make some dresses.”It’s been fine, I’ve been resting a lot.”

“Fine,” he parrots back at her, brow raised.”Alright for now,I believe you. Door's open, I’ll drop you off at home.”

“Thanks, Amos.”

She’s fine.

Absolutely fine. The box in her hand seemed more interesting than the wax sealed papers back home. Amos didn’t press her and Victoria kept it to herself.

.

.

.

After waving good-bye to Amos from the stairway, Victoria walks into her little apartment, her gift tucked into the crook of her elbow. It’s a small apartment, perfect for a single lady like herself. The Pink Flamingo Apartments a five story building, true to its name pink stoned with teal railings wrapped around it, the decor reminisce of its glory days of peace and shag carpet. The second she got in, she beelined for the small living room. Her feet practically disappeared into the thick red carpet. She hangs her cardigan on a nearby hook and sets her gift on the cherry wood coffee table. Sighing in relief, she pulls off her cute silver heels and relishes even ground.

“Home, sweet home,” Victoria mutters, laying down on her couch. Sitting in the dark, with the bright moon light pouring into her living room, she stares at the ceiling. Seeing her friend again felt great, Amos is alive and breathing. Victoria didn’t have to worry as much, Amos won’t be getting another case for now. Hazel eyes with green specks flash in her mind, and her mood plummets. Tossing over, she looks at the answering machine, the 'full' light glaring.

Amara, her sweet Amara, did she leave her a message this time? She reaches over and presses the button, listening to the auto voice. A pop up hologram shows in bold gold letters; calls from marketers were erased, messages from Father Mateo were noted , her mama’s were saved, as were others from friends' invitations to go out. Their last text was of Amara arriving at the airport. Nothing new.

“Please be safe,” She prays quietly. Amara is traveling with Uma, and she’s with a bigger group this time. Safety in numbers. Still, Victoria misses her friend deeply. 

She should do something. “I can try the game.” Victoria says to no one, making herself get up, careful not to slip with her stockings, her dress riding up to her thighs as she does. Not caring to fix since who was going to grasp pearls with her legs out and about? Moon’s out, thighs out. Humming, Victoria pulls out her gaming console and starts  hooking up her tv. 

The current model VRD2, the virtual reality device, was a smash hit in the US, taking players into a whole new meaning of exploring new worlds. After an early breakthrough in technology, much of entertainment can be experienced virtually now. With the VRD reality headset it practically felt like you were in the game, as it tapped your brain into it, a practice accepted around the globe. Innovative creations such as the Dream Catcher Pillow, were created with this in mind.

Though some protest that it could be dangerous– as very rare cases have pointed to disappearances. Which were promptly thrown out on the basis that no proof existed that it was a sole reason for such claims. Over the years the developers have continuously kept testing, with volunteers, to make sure there was nothing wrong with their machines. Always passing with a 99.99 percent success rate.

For its success there were many contracts made for games to be remade for the console.  There was no genre of games that couldn't be played on the VRD2 sans games from the pre-VRD revolution. Lei had gotten it when-

Nope.

Ripping up the box, Victoria takes out the disc and quickly shoves it into the empty slot. Practically shoving the helmet on, she pushes the game on. Settling back on her couch, her bag still strapped to her side, she relaxes her mind. Whirls of the machine, clicking in, her head felt light. No, she's not thinking about it. She's going to kiss stupidly cute princes while choosing the funniest options it has.

From the counsel, a bright gold light lit up the living room. Accompanied with a sweet sounding song, a crooked silhouette of tree branches crawled across the screen, the loud cackle of a hag broke behind her. Wicked, Victoria can appreciate the aesthetics of the opening sequence, they went really strong with the opening. Behind the curtain of crooked limbs of the trees, she can see a palace off in the distance, of multiple white towers with red tops, blocked off by a wall of thorns. 

Whatever happens in between her and the game was lost to time. Somewhere along the routes of going through the expanding fairy tale book, stories of princes to pick, did something prickle the uneasiness in her gut. It’s probably her nerves getting to her. After so many unfortunate run-ins with video games, her hackles were raised. She should relax, stop being so paranoid, like her sister Yvonne says. Amos, had this game checked in case for her, no time loops, no possessions.

Relax…

“A dream is a wish your heart makes…” a sweet voice of man sings, light and hopeful in the sudden darkness of the screen, bubbles floating popping before her. In the colorful reflection, she can see the figure of man scrubbing the floors. Oh he’s gorgeous, Victoria thinks.

“Once upon a dream….”

“For the first time in forever!”

“No chance, no way I won't say it, no no!”

Then another voice sings, then another and another joins in, each prince comes to screen followed by a change of scene. Hot dunes of a desert kingdom, a castle made of ice and snow , a tower hidden away with a long river of golden hair pouring out, and so many others that couldn’t have been explained so quickly. However, there was one scene that caught her attention, a dark mirror shrouded in a wispy green smoke. As she reached out to touch it, the surface rippled. Pulling away, a scene formed of a tree with a red apple that hung so low in a dark forest. There were so many other mirrors to choose from, but in her digital form, she touched the glossy red apple that begged to be plucked from its tree.

However just as the apple had brushed the tips of fingers, barely scraping its skin, a shock went through her.

Literally.

What had caused Victoria to feel it she wasn’t sure, but it’s hot and it felt like she was being torn apart, atom by atom. Static screeched, and in horror the realization of her hand falling through the VRD helmet had clued her this was not going to end well. Fuck. 

Fuck!

A familiar sensation of having the world being pulled under her feet came, the sensation of falling down took her and away did she go into the force of being pulled into her television.

Sometimes she wondered if Lei’s luck ever passed to her when they swapped rings.

In her profession, all one can do is accept the consequences of their misfortune and hope to make it out alive. To see another day and hope to come home.

The apartment sat empty with a tv, loud static playing from it’s speaker. On the couch lay a smoking VDR helmet, alone.