#(granted anything would be a fucking improvement)

[daxite]

it’s always been hilarious to me that for a website that likes to jerk itself off endlessly for apparently being one of the most “accepting” and “open” places on the internet, tumblr sure is fucking cutthroat with telling people how they should/shouldn’t present themselves, how or what they should/shouldn’t draw or create, and what media they should/shouldn’t consume

[certified-sleep-deprived]

◇Agatha Harkness x Ink Demon! Reader P2◇

Warnings: mentions of death, drowning in ink, violence, slight choking (not in a kinky way), PSTD, mentions of torture, reader gets the shit end of the stick

Part 1 here

You have been living in Agatha's home for a couple weeks now, and she's done everything in her will to make you feel at home. She's gotten you to open up a little bit, but not as much to the point where you've told her why you are the way you are. You weren't born like this, obviously; but, the memory of it all is too painful to speak of, and you wake up every night from the same nightmare, which is that of how you came to be like this.

You would always catch yourself before you went into a scream after waking up, as to not wake Agatha.

Speaking of Agatha, she always let you take her bed, and she would do everything for you, while balancing practicing her spells.

She was very open with you from the beginning, knowing you wouldn't judge as you had no position to either way, and you wouldn't even if you were "normal". She showed you some spells, and even let you practice to see if your condition granted you magic abilities; but they seemed very weak, and it was a touchy subject for you, so she left it alone and just left you to observe.

While your ankle was healing, she wouldn't let you our of bed unless it was to go to the bathroom, but even then she was nearby if you needed anything. You found it weird, thinking she was into you, but you chalked it up to your tiny crush on her messing with you. There was no way she could love someone like you, or could she?

She was able to manipulate the ink over your eyes enough to the point where you could see, like actually see. It improved your demeanor, as you weren't constantly blinded anymore.

Overall, she was very attentive to you the past few weeks, and you loved it. The feeling of getting touched in a non-harmful way was something you were getting used to, but it felt nice to have someone touch you and not be hurt for once.

There was a couple times where you had fallen asleep in her lap as she read one of her spell books, practicing her magic, and she didn't seem bothered. If anything, she encouraged it.

She was touch starved herself, so she was relishing in every moment she had that involved coming in contact with you, and before she realized it, she was developing a crush.

At first, she wanted to push it to the backburner, but as you started warming up to her and started to break through to her soft side, she knew she was fucked.

She would constantly find herself staring at you while you were turned away. She didn't care how you looked, if you looked like the Spawn of Satan or if you looked like a zombified one-footed Cary Elwes. No matter what, she definitely cared for you in a way beyond the way she does for most.

Currently, your in the nightly nightmare, again. Only this time, you found yourself violently turning in the bed, whimpering and muttering in your sleep. You felt as if you were reliving the memory instead of standing by in it from an ominescent point of view.

Agatha heard your soft voice echo through the door as she walked past it to go brush her teeth for the night, and she was concerned, so she opened the door, only to be met with your flailing form. She panicked, so she rushed to your side and tried waking you up out of your dream.

As she was doing this, the dream shifted to your demise. A slow, agonizing demise.

You shot up from the bed in a blood curdling scream, and in your blind moment of vulnerability, you grabbed Agatha by the throat, seeing her as a threat.

It was only when she choked in surprise, did you let her go with a horrified look on your face.

You backed away to the edge of the bed as she turned to approach you.

"Oh god. Oh god! No, I'm so sorry. Please, don't hate me I didn't mean it!" You desperately sob, thinking she would kill you or throw you out. But, she simply shook her head and scooted next to you, placing her hand on your arm in an attempt to ground you.

You looked into her eyes as she turned on the lamp, snuggling into her when she wrapped her arms around you in a protective embrace.

After calming down some, you speak up. "I suppose I should tell you everything, why I'm like this."

You take a deep breath after hearing her tell you to go on, and you begin your story.

"I was a normal human. Well, normal as one can be these days" you chuckle. "It was my... twenty-fourth? Maybe twenty-third... yeah, twenty-third birthday, when a couple of my friends suggested that for my birthday we should check out an abandoned animation studio from the 30's. Like the naiive fool I was, I agreed. We all split up to search the place to see if we could find any memorabilia, because why not."

Your voice trembles during the time you speak, and you feel her rubbing your arm in a comforting manner, letting you know it's okay. You let out a shaky exhale before continuing,

"I was alerted to the sound of danger when I heard one of my friends let out the most horrifying scream I've heard in my life. I was scared shitless. When I went to go investigate the noise, I was hit on the back of the head, hard, and I was knocked out. When I woke up, I was in a glass box, with no way out, and there was a man in the room who introduced himself as 'Joey Drew', although I know that wasn't really his name." You tame another pause before going on.

"He explained how I would serve as his last test for the night, and when I inquired what the hell he meant, two goopey ink creatures grabbed my arms and held me down. I looked at their faces and I saw how much they resembled my friends. When I asked what the hell he did, he simply said trying to bring cartoons to life, and that was his goal then with me. My blood ran cold, and before I could speak again, the box started to fill with ink, and the two creatures that were my friends kept holding me down. I tried fighting to swim up, but once I was submerged in the ink, my lungs were filling up, and I was suffocating. I couldn't breathe, and it was so painful, oh god!"

You sobbed out the last part, your hand clawing at your chest as if you were feeling it over again. Agatha brushed some hair out of your face to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Go on only if you feel comfortable, bunny."

The pet name made you feel butterflies. But you nodded and took a few moments before continuing.

"When I gained consciousness next, I was shackled, and I couldn't see. I felt around my body and found my whole appearance had changed. I wiped some ink from my eyes and found a mirror in front of me, showing me the beast I had becomed. I screamed in agony as the pain came rushing back, and that's when 'Joey' came in the room, smirking at himself at his handy work. He mocked me, tortured me, mindfucked me. He left me in that room for five years, until a few weeks ago when I escaped and ran right into your fence. That would place me at about twenty-eight now." You breathed the last part with a chuckle.

"I was rarely fed and hydrated, and he kept trying to shape me into his twisted image of his ideal cartoon character. I was supposed to resemble a character he created, named 'Bendy', but I came out all deformed and barely resembling him at all. I'm so glad to have run into you, Agatha. You saved my life without even knowing it."

I finish my story with a smile as I look in her alluring, baby blue eyes. And those same eyes stare down at me with so much adoration and love, they looked so soft compared to the hard outside she showed to everyone else.

Before you knew it, her lips were on yours in a tender kiss, with her arms pulling you slightly closer as a hand came to rest on your cheek.

When you both pulled away, all you can manage to say is "why". She smiles at your uncertainty, and she answers in the way you've always wanted to hear someone speak of you,

"Because I don't care for your looks. I don't care if your a fucked up version of a cartoon character. I love you for who you are, not your appearance. I love the way you can make me soft in an instant, or keep me in a calm state. I love you for you, bunny".

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you threw your head in her neck, sobbing muffled "I love you too"s. She traced her fingers up and down one of your horns, soothing you as you shook in her arms.

It was probably at least half an hour of staying like this, sobbing, until you calmed down and your sobbing ceased. Once it did, Agatha gently cupped your face in her hands, looking into your eyes as she spoke once more,

"I will help you find a way to reverse what that asshole did to you. Seeing you in so much pain breaks my heart, and I want to help you in every way I possibly can. You just say the word, and my wish is your command".

Her words almost put you in a sobbing fit again, but you were too tired and all your tears have been cried, so you simply reply to her before falling asleep,

"I will follow you to the end of the earth and back if it means I am able to be with you, Agatha Harkness. I love you so much."

The rest of the night was spent holding eachother in the other's embrace, gentle kisses shared between the two of you.

[mozzzz05]

I was thinking recently about Lane Kim (my beloved) and how I’ve always kind of hated her arc (bcos ASP is obsessed with getting people pregnant) and I think her own story line would have been so much more interesting if she did become a rockstar.

I just love the idea of Rory, who had everything handed to her to her on a silver plate -an encouraging, happy home life, an expensive education, contacts with people in the industry she wanted to be in, being accepted to every college she applied for, going to a fucking Ivy League college - failing. (As we know she does) just becoming this absolute mess of a journalist. I love the idea of her throwing it all away because she took it for granted.

But her friend, the one who’s family never supported her - not in the way that mattered - who didn’t have industry contacts or the musical education or experience, who didn’t have a leg up, who had to sneak about in order to practice, to perform gigs, to improve at all in her field of interest. I would love to see her succeed, the girl who no one thought was going anywhere - the girl that didn’t even think she was going anywhere. The girl who for so long had to live vicariously through Rory.

I would love for Mrs Kim to come around eventually and be proud of her daughter because even though it’s not what she wanted for her, it’s what her daughter wanted for herself and she got it. I want her to be proud that her daughter is this headstrong woman that fights so hard for what she wants and doesn’t let anything get in the way of that.

It would make me enjoy Rory’s arc a lot more too, for once she’s in Lane’s shadow & Lane finally gets what she’s always wanted. I just love that juxtaposition. And I hate that Lane never got what she wanted, I hate that her life feels entirely overshadowed by men and babies.

[melkyt]

Cora Lives au, Marine!Law and Luffy doing his pirate thing as per usual canon xd

They make it back, Law remembers enough medical knowledge from growing up with his parents while they were spending every day trying to cure their disease. Its enough to use his fruit and save Cora as soon as he can get the chance and approach, maybe this is his first time being able to do room and shambles as he has two thoughts, save Cora and get closer to do so. His power answers his needs.

It takes time, but they make it back to Sengoku. Cora goes back to being a marine, it is his home.

Law doesn't want to disappoint the man who took him in and saved him, so he learns and trains. He joins the Marines but there is a pulsing hatred under his skin. Years and years of pushing it back so he can 'earn' the love and repay the man who saved him. Law is struggling and repressed.

Law is high-up in the organization just with having the ope ope no mi, Imu and the elders are paying attention to him, which is why it is even more stifling, the vice admiral title he never wanted, and a promotion in the near future that he wants even less if not for the freedoms it will grant him. That is what Law wants most in this life, freedom and the ability to follow his dreams, but he owes a debt, and it traps him just as much as anything.

One day he is sent on a mission after a young crew that is making waves around loguetown. He is responsible for the area beyond. Law is glad to be out on the open sea, he takes his sweet time going after the strawhats, not as driven as Smoker or others sent after the pirates. He goes after them but it always turns out they just miss each other. The brats have done shit but nothing he would find big enough like hurting civilians that would make him move. That is the usual, everyone knows that any mission Law goes on will take forever until he finds a reason, and then he will slaughter whoever crosses his particular moral code. Worse he will make them into an art project, left to suffer on display as a warning.

He is ruthless as a marine, taking out his anger out on his targets.

It goes like that for a while, them missing each other until the Summit War. Law is called back, and he first is against going. The warlords will be there, Doflamingo will be there. He would rather never see that mans fcking face. Yet Cora is also summoned, the powers that be know that will make Law go, just to protect the only person he can call family.

He shows up.

Summit War is a mess, sides unclear and Doflamingo is getting on his nerves. The bastard having the time of his life just like in canon. If not for Cora's silence power shutting him the fuck up and way more self-control and patience for his brother than Law has, Doflamingo would be dead.

Law is going after the strawhats, and Doflamingo follows him to mess with the boy and also with Crocodile and be a problem for everyone xd

Since I make the rules, Ace's death here does not happen, Law snaps at the very end and unleashes room over the entire battle, casting shambles. His only focus as a marine has been to improve his power, as that is the only thing he can control. So it is a threat. He splits each side onto their own sides, ruining more than a few plans. Only those in logia are not affected, the confusion is enough to stop the fighting and to slow Akainu. Then promptly collapses in front of Luffy.

Luffy, who saw Akainu's attack coming, saw the man about to kill him, Ace getting in the way, then they were a few feet away and a dead marine in their place.

He looks at Law and is immediately obsessed in a way only Luffy can be, but they don't have time to take the weird admiral that saved them for some reason, but he remembers as they leave.

Later Law gets a lecture even if Akainu wants to murder the brat for getting in the way. His fruit is too valuable, and the marine elders put too much time in the kid to allow him to be killed. The ope ope no mi wielder needs time to gather knowledge for the immortality surgery and a certain devotion, which is what Law has for Cora and they are looking to use that.

So he gets yelled at and gets promoted, which pisses everyone off.

Law is even lazier in his missions, doing his own thing.

Luffy on the other hand after working to get stronger so he doesnt feel like he cant do anything ever again as in Sabaody, as during the war when all he could do is watch his brother almost sacrifice himself, sets off again.

In the two years, Law never left his mind. Luffy not only wants to thank him. But also free him, he knows that look of being trapped by obligation. He has seen it in Nami, Sanji, and many many others over his journey.

So they go looking for the admiral, raiding marine ships and bases, Luffy always running around shouting for him, even if he doesn't quite remember the name.

Ace who is just as interested in finding Law and thanking him, same wavelength as Luffy but more cautious, only a little xd. This is an admiral. He mentions that the man hates one of the warlords, they were bickering all fucking day during the war.

Luffy perks up, grins, and sets his eyes set on kicking Doflamingo's ass. He does a very Luffy thing and announces it at the next base they raid. Something like "Yo, yah saved my brother, so I'm gonna beat Doffy's ass for yah, Traffy!" He did not feel like writing the whole name out, so the nickname is born xd.

Law gets the message and sets out for Dressrosa, hoping to intercept them on the way. This is idiotic even by strawhat standards. He doesn't need their help, and they are going to get themselves killed. He goes alone without any backup, using his power to travel in some creative way.

The strawhats are unpredictable and fast, so they avoid him and only meet up in Dressrosa, with the birdcage falling as soon as the strawhats dock.

Dressrosa almost goes the same, with all the trauma hitting Law full force, even worse as he buried it so deep. It breaks the shields he had up for so long.

He is a mess, and Luffy is there for him in his usual enthusiastic way determined to be friends. There for Law in his most vulnerable moments like nobody has been since Cora saved him all those years ago.

The fights go on, and Doflamingo beats the shit out of Law, who is stronger, but he is tired and broken, and scared as if he is a child again. Law is going through it. He has not been working for years to make his life about revenge and did not face his trauma in the same way.

He watches as Luffy never gives up and wins where he failed, sitting alone on a roof, tears that he can't control spilling as Luffy takes that final blow against Doflamingo.

In the end, Law leaves behind his Admiral coat, with a letter of apology to Sengoku and Cora, that he can't lie to himself anymore, that he needs to be free and that's what the strawhats gave him, that's what Luffy gave him. So he joins the crew, not as anything useful in his opinion. They have a doctor and a historian, they have everyone that makes a crew useful but they don't care. They still make room for him.

Luffy said he is part of them now, and so he is. Even if the world government is hunting him for his fruit, they are all being hunted.

It is the best time of his life, for the first time he is happy. The warm feeling when Luffy smiles at him is something else. The soft touches, the stolen kisses when nobody is looking. Law for the first time understands what it means to be in Paradise, and hopes that this newfound peace will never end.

[thefruitonyourfly]

Just read a comment under a magireco Madoka's magical girl sequence that said "now Madoka is a badass" and I was like HUH

Like did some of you watched episode 12 blindfolded and with ear plugs? Because I don't think you guys truly grasp the scope of what Madoka did that episode: The Incubator has been on earth for a MILLENNIUM, meaning that has been thousand of girls before Madoka who have tried to outsmart his system and met a terrible fate for their attempts, but only Madoka has been able to beat him, do you guys understand that? The smartest and strongest girls have tried, but something always thwarted their plans—be it their potential not being that high or Kyuubey twisting their words so it would be in his favor instead—But Madoka had something they didn't and it was her circumstances (Homura and the timeloops), Madoka knew her wish would come at a great sacrifice, but just like Homura said in Rebellion "She rose to the occasion" because she knew it was something only she could do; No one would ever have the perfect circumstances to make that wish like Madoka. So, she did it.

When Madoka made her wish and Kyuubey hesitated for the first time in the series because he understood the implication of it, Madoka said to him: "Now, grant my wish, Incubator." When Kriemhild Gretchen was born and Kyuubey thought he had the advantage back again because this witch could literally swallow a planet and Madoka killed her with one shot. Madoka won, essentially. Like her system isn't perfect, Kyuubey isn't dead, and there's still suffering, but it was the best wish for the magical girl kind as a whole, and all improvements are only possible by what Madoka did here. She played within the Incubator's system and rewrote it. She is the most powerful character in the whole franchise and arguably one of the most powerful characters in anime. "But didn't Homucifer defeated Madokami?" Well, sort of. Homura's win is, ironically, also due to extreme circumstances, only Homura could've done that and only within this one scenario: and even when she won it's heavily implied that if Madoka even has a slightly moment of deja vu it's over for her, she can't win against Madoka on fair terms so even Homura herself can't achieve that feat again. That's just how powerful Madoka is.

Do you guys understand that?

And here's the thing: my problem with that statement isn't even that I don't think magireco Madoka isn't as cool as Madokami, I think she's badass too. Is just like, I thought we all thought Madoka was cool as herself?? Like even without being a magical girl or a fucking godess, Madoka was cool as shit. When Madoka risked her own life to save the lives of her friends and strangers at the warehouse? She had no powers, no backup, and had just watched Mami die to a witch and yet she still followed Hitomi. But people only want to see Madoka's character as what the witch showed her afterwards, her own survivors guilt and perceived weakness and cowardice over wanting to live and not be a magical girl despite what she promised Mami, and yet the scene prior to this conflicts with this idea. Madoka not only can risk her life for others and save them when the need arises, but she already has. Even without being a magical girl. It's just who she is. This, to me, is one Madoka Magica's core strenght as a show that Madoka spent the majority of it being the most "powerless" in almost every scenario and yet she still tried her best to overcome things, even when it didn't work It was never worthless, if anything it proved her own strenght of character and without it she would've never gotten as powerful how she is today.

If Madoka hadn't been kind to Homura on her first day of school, if she hadn't done the simple act of reaching out to someone she thought was kind shy, none of this would've have happened. Her kindness did this, not any other power.

My favorite thing about Madoka's character arc is that Madoka starts as a very naive opmitimisc girl and with a somewhat sheltered view of of the world, then she goes throught horrors few can understand and while she could (understably) become bitter with the world and grow to despise it, Madoka comes of it realizing...she was right. Madoka has felt the pain the world could give her in her own skin, has literally died, and she now thinks Hope is needed more than ever. And it saddens me a lot when people don't understand how strong and cool she is because of that, to be hurt and choose to be kinder and more understanding to yourself and the world in return, because the world can be better we just can't give up...

Basically what I'm saying with this that if you don't like Kaname Madoka, fuck you—

[set-phasers-to-whump]

stupid ideas

prompt: seeing double

whumpee: river cartwright

fandom: slough house, slow horses

hiii here's another installment of me beating up my boy <3 hope you enjoy it!

It’s one of those exceedingly rare days where he’s been given a task to do that takes him out of Slough House. 

Granted, he’s taking the bus one stop, picking up an envelope from an acquaintance of Lamb’s, and returning, but still. Gets him out. 

Honestly, he’d bet money that there’s nothing of any value in the envelope—quite possibly, there’s nothing in it at all, and Lamb just wants to send him on a particularly stupid errand. 

Not that there’s any other kind of errand where Lamb is concerned. 

So River’s on the bus, for all of two minutes, and then he’s on the pavement, and it’s just his luck that a car drives past and splashes him with muddy rainwater as he’s waiting to cross the road. 

Just great, he thinks bitterly, stomping across the crosswalk. He can already see Lamb’s acquaintance waiting for him beneath the faded awning of what appears to be an Italian restaurant. The man looks vaguely amused, which does nothing to improve River’s mood. 

They don’t so much as exchange a word. The man hands him the envelope, which does at least look as if it’s got something in it, though maybe it’s just a takeout menu for this place. That done, the other man nods, then turns around and enters the restaurant behind him. 

For a second, River thinks about following. It’s near enough to lunchtime, and this would keep him out of the office for longer. 

Except that the glimpse of the restaurant he’d gotten through the open door hadn’t seemed terribly inviting or terribly on par with basic standards of cleanliness. He’d rather not end up with food poisoning, even if it would mean a day or two off work. 

And so he heads for the bus stop, instead. 

It seems that he’s only just missed his bus. He could walk and make it back to Slough House before the next one arrives, but there’s no point hastening the inevitable. He finds a space for himself inside the shelter and stares at the traffic passing by. 

A few more people join him, seeking cover from the rain as they wait. The bus shelter crowds up quickly, and River finds himself wishing he hadn’t bothered with it. 

He catches a glimpse of his bus approaching and begins pushing his way out of the crowd. And then someone grabs the hood of his jacket and tugs. 

“Hey!” he yelps, struggling to break free. “What the fuck?”

Whoever’s got a hold of him is strong, and River finds himself being pulled backwards against his will. And then, just like that, he’s released, but he doesn’t manage to take so much as a step before he’s being shoved forwards from behind. 

His head collides with the glass wall of the bus shelter hard enough to make him taste blood, but not hard enough to shatter the glass. For a second, he’s stunned, can’t do anything amidst the sounds of people gasping and shouting, and then the world more or less resumes its normal dimensions. 

The bus stop has cleared out, and only a few people remain—it seems he’s missed his bus again. Those still there are alternately avoiding looking at him and outright staring. 

“Are you alright?” one of them, an old woman, asks. 

“I’m fine,” River replies stiffly. He starts walking away, giving up on the bus in favor of the pavement. He hopes he’s not bleeding. Doesn’t feel like explaining to anyone, “Yeah, someone threw me into the wall of a bus shelter. No, I didn’t see who. No, I don’t know why.”

A quick pat-down of his pockets reveals the continued presence of his phone and wallet, as well as the envelope. Better be bloody worth it, he thinks, though he knows it won’t be. 

As he wanders down the pavement, heedless of the rain, River becomes more and more aware of the fact that his head fucking hurts. 

Which is not exactly a surprise. What had he expected, after getting slammed into a glass wall?

It’s annoying, though. But he reminds himself that it’s only a matter of time before he gets back to Slough House, where at least a bottle of paracetamol awaits him. He’ll be fine. 

He shakes his head slightly, like he can physically brush away the ache. 

This accomplishes the exact opposite thing, and his head spins. His vision doubles for a few seconds, and he stops dead still in the middle of the pavement. 

He’s treated to a few seconds of verbal abuse from his fellow pedestrians before he makes his feet start moving again. 

Fuck, that had been a stupid idea. 

He makes it the rest of the way back to Slough House without any further issue, unless you count the gradual increase in the intensity of his headache with every passing second spent amidst the clamor and lights of a busy London afternoon. 

He’ll just take a few painkillers, and it’ll be fine. 

Back in Slough House, he makes a pit stop at his desk for said painkillers, dry-swallows the maximum dose (which is another stupid idea, and just adds a pain in his throat to the pain in his head). That done, he makes his way to Lamb’s office as slowly as humanly possible. 

Lamb doesn’t so much as glance up from his task when River arrives. He stands on the threshold and waits, rocking back and forth on his heels, until Lamb has finished scratching between his toes with a novelty, Christmas-themed pen. 

“Took your time, didn’t you?” Lamb observes, tossing the pen into a dark corner. Its light-up red nose briefly illuminates a takeout container that might qualify as toxic waste before blinking out. 

River doesn’t answer, momentarily transfixed by the pen’s flight across the room. By the time he realizes Lamb is still saying something to him, it’s too late. 

He spends what feels like an eternity being verbally berated for nothing in particular—a Lamb specialty—before he can take no more. 

He pulls the envelope, slightly damp, out of his pocket, tosses it onto Lamb’s desk, and leaves. 

He makes it about halfway down the stairs before he has to stop and brace himself against the wall. His vision has started to double up again and there’s a nauseous feeling slowly creeping up the back of his throat. 

So he’s fucking concussed. Great. 

He makes it down the rest of the stairs with all the speed and grace of a senior citizen, and collapsing into his desk chair feels like some kind of salvation. 

For far too long, he just sits there, eyes closed, breathing slowly, and generally trying very hard not to either throw up or pass out. 

This works moderately well, at least, it does until there’s a horrible crash right outside his door, followed by an exasperated, though rather polite, “Fuck!”

River flinches, then groans. 

“Sorry, River!” Catherine calls out, and even this is far too loud. The following noise of her tidying up the shards of glass is somehow worse, but he can hardly do anything about it. 

He puts his head down onto his desk and tries to block out everything. 

This doesn’t really work, and the next thing he knows Catherine’s voice is a good deal closer than it had been before. 

“Are you alright?” she asks, and he nearly jumps out of his chair. He hadn’t realized she’d moved closer, that she’d stopped cleaning. He feels like he can still hear the shards of glass bouncing off of each other. 

He slowly turns to look at her. There’s sort of one-and-a-half of her, and the faces overlap, but he’s pretty sure she looks worried. 

“What’s happened?” she asks, and she sounds worried, too. 

“Nothing,” River says thickly, because he doesn’t want to explain. 

“River.”

To his horror, he feels tears pricking at his eyes and an uncomfortable sensation in his throat. It’s fucking stupid. He went out on a stupid errand for his stupid boss, and some fucking idiot slammed him into a fucking bus shelter, and now his head hurts so fucking much, and he just wants to not be here, for the painkillers to start working, and he wants to be at home and he wants it all to stop. 

“It’s fine,” he snaps, and the words echo through his head and make everything worse. 

“You’re not well,” Catherine replies, apparently undeterred. “Are you ill?”

He shakes his head a bit too violently and immediately casts doubts upon this answer by throwing up, narrowly missing his own shoes. 

Things get a bit fuzzier, then. The pain in his head gets even worse, pounding and consuming his thoughts, and things triple and blur, and the next thing he knows Lamb, of all people, is shining a flashlight into his eyes, which fucking hurts, is he trying to kill him?

“He’s concussed,” he hears Lamb say. River gets the sense this isn’t directed at him, but the question that follows definitely is. “What the fuck happened?”

“Got pushed…in a bus shelter,” is what River manages to say. He doesn’t think this is his best explanation, but he lacks the words to make it better. 

Lamb mutters something else, which River fails to understand, and then someone is pulling him to his feet. For a second his vision whites out, and when it returns, he finds himself being manhandled out of Slough House and into a car he vaguely recognizes as Louisa’s. 

“Where we going?” he manages to ask, not sure whether he’s addressing the driver—surely Louisa herself—or the person beside him, who he thinks might be Catherine. 

It’s Louisa that responds. “A&E.” Her voice is clipped and if River felt slightly less awful, he’d wonder about that. 

As it is, he just hums in acknowledgement and lets his eyes drift closed, trying to distract himself from the unpleasant feeling of movement. 

This doesn’t work terribly well, and he vaguely hears himself make a rather pathetic and completely involuntary noise as they go over some kind of bump. 

“It’ll be alright,” comes Catherine’s voice from beside him. “You’ll be alright, River.”

He believes her—what else can he do? He lets that thought, that he’ll be alright, wash over him, and it distracts him, just for a moment, from the pain.

thanks for reading!! fun fact i am giving my boy river a concussion on the six month anniversary of me getting one myself :P love to see it lmao. hope you enjoyed, love you all etc etc amen <3

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 13

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: This is more of a filler chapter before shit gets fucking wild in the next one. I'm telling you I'm so pumped for the next chapter ahhhhh! It's not super exciting but I hope you all enjoy it! If you're new here from The Prophecy... Hi!🥰🖤

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Mentions of under the mountain and what Eris did

Word Count: 5,338

Rhys POV: 

I had finally allowed myself to hope. 

The circumstances of which I had granted myself that hope was…well… unpleasant. I would never wish Feyre to be under duress for any reason, but it did bring her into my court for good. When Mor came back with her I had never felt so relieved. I wanted to say that I couldn’t believe that Tamlin would lock her up like that, but I would be lying to myself. 

It wasn’t the first time she had been to Velaris. Once I saw the state she was in at the wedding, too thin, too pale, I started calling in the bargain. I saw her improving dramatically since I started doing so, pink lining her cheeks, muscles building on her arms. She had yet to meet anyone but Mor. Y/n had been dying to meet my mate, but I didn’t want to overwhelm Feyre. She was still learning what it meant to be fae, still getting used to her new life, and still learning to trust me. 

“So you are both High Fae and Illyrian?” Feyre asks, messing with the leftover food on her plate. 

“Yes, my mother was Illyrian and my father was High Fae. That is why I can summon Illyrian wings when I want to.” I answered her question truthfully. I knew that no matter what I wanted to be honest with her, let her see every dark part of me and choose to love me anyways, I owed her that. 

“Were they mates?” she inquires further. 

“Yes they were,” I replied, secretly hanging on every word she said. I tried my best to act aloof, but when she was here? In my home? It was hard to keep my cool. 

“How do you know someone is your mate?” she queries and my heart drops. 

I know that she is talking about Tamlin in her own subtle way, wondering if the High Lord of Spring is her mate. 

“You don’t always know right away, take Kallias and Viviane, they didn’t know they were mates until they were married,” I explained to her, I watched her face lighten, no doubt thinking that there was still a chance for her and Tamlin. 

“I’ve never met a set of mates before,” she said with a hint of longing, like if she could just set eyes on a pair it might ease her mind.

“Would you like to?” My words slipped out before I could think of the implications of them. 

Her eyes flitted up in amusement and I swore I melted at her lighthearted gaze, “I would.” she said.

“My younger sister, y/n. She’s mates with my general, Cassian. We can go and see them if you would like.” I say thinking about how excited y/n will be to finally meet the cursebreaker.

“I would like that very much,” Feyre smiled. 

I stood and walked with Feyre to the edge of the property outside the townhouse. It wasn’t the first time I had flown with her, but I could still tell she was apprehensive of the height. I took the fastest route to The House of Wind and made sure to fly like I was holding my mothers china. Feyre was far from breakable, she was strong enough to withstand just about anything. But that didn’t mean I was going to be someone who challenged that strength, not like Tamlin did. When we arrived at the huge mansion I could feel the female's eyes glancing over the exterior in awe. 

“This is another one of my homes, but I tend to stay in the townhouse. My little sister and Cassian live here with Azriel.” I say opening the door for her. 

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, her eyes taking in every single detail.

I try to pry into y/n and Cassian’s mental shields but I’m met with nothing. They were here though, their scents lingered in the library we passed on the way to Cassian’s room. I knock on the door and I’m met with silence.

“Cassian? Y/n?” I call out hoping for some sort of answer but hear nothing once more. 

As Feyre looks at me expectantly I weigh my options, which would make my sister angrier? Waking her up to meet Feyre or not waking her up to meet Feyre?  I let out a shallow breath and chose the latter, opening the door to reveal a giant heap of limbs. 

“Oh I didn’t know they were asleep,” Feyre said, moving away. 

“Don’t worry about it, y/n will have my head if I don’t introduce you two,” I laugh walking into the dark room, Feyre trailing behind me.

When I approach the bed I can’t even see my little sister, her body covered entirely by Cassian’s wing. The only indication that she’s even there is her small hand peeking out from under it and a tendril of hair on the pillow.   

“I thought you said that Illyrians were protective of their wings?” Feyre whispered, clearly questioning why Cass’ wing was draped over y/n. 

“They are,” I whisper back. “But she’s his mate. He would rather have his wings shredded than have anything happen to her.” I say fondly. I had to admit, while I was still getting used to Cassian and my little sister being together, it was nice to not have to worry about her safety as much. Anyone who dared to harm her would have to face Cassian. Gods spare that poor fool. 

“Even in his sleep?” she asked in a hushed tone. 

“Especially in his sleep,” I laugh, moving to shake my sister's hand, trying to wake her. 

The second I grasp that small hand to shake it awake Cassian’s eyes fly open and the next thing I know there’s a dagger aimed at my throat and a murderous gaze thrown my way. 

“Easy Cass it’s just me,” I chuckle as I hear Feyre gasping and taking a step back. 

“Cauldron Rhys you scared the shit out of me,” Cassian sighed lowering the dagger, beside him my sister stirred. 

“Cass what’s going on?” she asked, her voice laced with sleep. 

“Nothing princess, it's just Rhys,” he answered, smoothing her hair out of her face. It was strange to see my war general so docile and domestic. 

“And Feyre Archeron,” I corrected as Feyre took a step further. “Why don’t you two wake up and meet us outside.” I laugh leading Feyre towards the door. 

Behind me I can hear Cass gently explaining to a very tired y/n what’s going on. 

y/n’s POV: 

“Do you think she saw me?” I ask frantically putting on my dress.

My older brother had just ambushed me with his mate and the first time she saw me might’ve been with a bed head. I was angry with him for waking me, but I would’ve been more pissed if he hadn’t done so, not when I wanted to meet the cursebreaker so badly. 

“I’m sure she did,” Cassian chuckled, strapping his daggers to his side, no doubt going to train when this is over. 

“Ugh,” I sigh, running a brush through my hair. “I probably looked awful.” I sigh, setting down the brush. 

I see Cassian walking up to me through the mirror. He wraps his arms around my waist and places a kiss on my shoulder, sending reassurance and affection down the bond.

“I don’t think you’ve ever looked awful a day in your life, princess.” he smiled into my shoulder. 

“You have to say that you’re my mate,” I laughed, turning in his arms. 

“And your husband don’t forget that title too,” he says, tilting my chin up to meet his warm gaze. 

“How could I ever forget that, husband.” I smile, pecking his lips.

Without another word Cassian and I walk hand in hand down the hallway to where Rhys and Feyre are sitting in the living room. I take a moment to survey their body language. While my brother leans on his knees, seemingly drinking in every breath and movement Feyre has to offer, the cursebreaker sits stiffly on the couch. I make eye contact with my brother and he stands immediately.

“Feyre darling I would like to introduce you to Cassian, the general of my armies and y/n, my little sister,” Rhys says proudly gesturing to the two of us. 

Feyre turns to see us and I swear my heart stops. The last time I saw the female she was prone on the floor underneath the mountain. Every High Lord had sacrificed a bit of power to save her. Becoming high fae seemed to suit her.

“Hello Feyre, it's an honor to meet you,”  I smile. 

“The honor is all mine,” she says timidly, giving a slight bow. “I’ve heard stories of your beauty before. Tamiln and Lucien used to talk about you a lot, I never believed them but now I see they were right.” 

“Oh really?” Cassian inquired brisling at her words and I considered elbowing him in the ribs. 

“You flatter me too much, Feyre.” I say and look to change the subject. “How are you liking Velaris so far?”

“I like it very much, it’s beautiful here.” she says looking around the townhouse. “Rhysand says that you and Cassain are mates?”

“We are, we just had our mating ceremony and our wedding last month,” I say happily. Cauldron, had it already been a month?

“Congratulations to the both of you,” she smiled stiffly.

“I was just about to take a walk through the city, there’s a pastry shop down there that makes croissants stuffed with this delicious chocolate and hazelnut filling. Would you like to join?” I ask, my brother gave me a weary eye, but I shrugged him off. What Feyre needed was a friend, a female friend that is, and I was more than happy to jump at the opportunity. 

“I would like that,” she smiles, the blue in her eyes lighting up ever so slightly. “May I walk with your sister oh so powerful high lord?” Feyre turned to Rhys, sarcasm dripping from her voice. 

Rhys barked out a laugh, one I hadn’t heard in quite some time, “Feyre darling I told you that you are not my prisoner, you may take the air with my sister if it pleases you.” he says gesturing to me.  

“Well then shall we?” the cursebreaker asked me. 

I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle as I looped my arm in hers, I had a feeling she and I were going to be fast friends. 

“You’re right this is incredible,” Feyre’s words were nearly inaudible as flakes of pastry fell from her mouth. 

“I know right? I’ve been going there once a week for years. Well sort of…when I was growing up I wasn’t allowed to leave the house. My parents were weird and feared my beauty would be too tempting for males. So they locked me up tight and threw away the key. Rhys used to bring me these pastries all the time, he was my only real window to the outside world.” I divulge, almost regretting telling her so much until I remember how she came to be here in Velaris. 

“So you haven’t really seen the other courts then have you?” she asks, wiping some chocolate from the corner of her mouth. 

“I actually have,” I smile finishing the last bite of my treat. “When Rhys learned to fly the first thing he did was come and get me and take me to a candy shop. From that day forward he snuck me out whenever he got the chance, that’s how I know Tamlin and Lucien. It never sat right with my brother, what my parents did to me,” I continue, hoping to show a side of Rhys that I knew he would never offer up himself. 

Feyre continued walking beside me, for a moment there was silence, as if she was considering my story, comparing it with hers. If she had something to say about Rhys she didn’t divulge, instead turning the conversation to other matters.

“Can I ask about you and your mate?” she queries. “I’m not sure if it’s a personal subject or not, I’m not well versed in the customs of fae.” 

“Ask anything you like, I assure you I have no problem talking about my mate,” I laugh thinking of Cassian’s smiling face now. 

Feyre gives a subtle laugh, “How did you know he was your mate?” she says, turning her head to read my expression as we further walked down the Sidra, seemingly clinging on my every word just like Rhys had clinged to hers. 

“Well Cassian knew first, I didn’t know until much later,” I start recalling the moment the bond snapped, the joy followed by pure terror. “I was set to marry Eris Vanserra, an arrangement made by our fathers a long time ago. When Rhys and I returned from under the mountain we both grew apart as we were both processing what had happened in our own way. He found the arrangement in my fathers things and thought that we could use the Autumn Court’s armies if Hybern should come to call, and after he saved me under the mountain I didn’t want to say no.” 

“He saved you, yet you were still down there?” Feyre asked, and I paused for a moment. Rhys had not told her the conditions of his servitude. 

“You don’t know?” I ask to make sure. If Rhys didn’t explain to his mate why he took the actions he did, it would be a great disservice to both him and his character, one I would rectify.

“Know what?” she asked clearly not seeing the big deal as she finished off her own croissant. 

“The only reason Rhys was Amarantha’s whore was because of me,” I start, feeling the shame seep in. “When we first arrived under the mountain he was able to keep me hidden, but then Hybern paid a visit and he wanted to take me for his wife. Rhys begged Amarantha not to let him take me, she agreed on the condition that he would come to her bed willingly.”  

“I-I had no idea,” the cursebreaker stuttered as her eyes zoned out on something far away. 

“It’s not something he and I talk about much, but it’s for that reason I chose to marry Eris, to try  and repay his sacrifice. However, Eris was cruel, he hurt me and assaulted me, I was nothing more than a pet to him. Cassian was the one to take me back and forth to the Autumn Court during our courtship and I fell in love with him. One night we couldn’t stay away any longer and I found myself in his bed. I knew I couldn’t end the courtship with Eris without bargaining for armies so I kept our relationship a secret.” 

“That must’ve been torture,” Feyre gasped her eyes finally finding me. 

“It was,” I nodded. “I didn’t know we were mates, and I ended up finding out the day of the wedding, but it was too late. I married Eris to save Velaris and Cassian was banished from Autumn. That night Eris found out I was impure, he dumped me over the Autumn court border and left me to die. If it wasn’t for the bond Cassian never would have found me.” I finished telling the story. 

“I- I’m sorry that you had to go through those things. That you came to be with Cassian under such hard circumstances.” she says, as if she doesn’t trust her own words. “But things are better now right? You’re safe?” 

I let out a light hearted laugh, trying to keep the conversation from veering anywhere dark, “I’ve never been safer. Eris is out of the picture now that my brother and Cassian have chased him out of town. Now it��s just Cassian and I in our newly mated bliss.” I smile. 

“I can see how anyone would run from Rhys,” Feyre rolls her eyes dramatically. 

A warm chuckle rumbles through my chest, one so infectious it finds Feyre’s lips too, “I know my brother can be a bit of an ass sometimes. But give him a chance, he might be the king of sarcasm, but underneath all that he truly cares.” I tell her, bumping into her shoulder playfully. 

“I suppose I can try, at least I know I have you now,” she smiles looking across the way at a nearby vendor. 

My heart smiles at her words. 

At least I have you.

My mission was complete. I was able to get her to trust me, to feel like she had a friend in me. Maybe, just maybe, her knowing that there was someone else on her side would bring her closer to Rhys, maybe I could finally find a way to repay the sacrifice my brother gave for me. 

I swing the wooden sword down at Cassian’s, the hard impact of them meeting causing a grunt to leave my lips. The hot sun beat down on us as we spared as best we could. He could easily beat me if he wanted to, I was still a beginner after all,  but he never made me feel like I was inferior. We had been out here for over an hour, the evidence of it being seen on my sweaty fighting leathers. My second set, to be exact. Once my first set got dirty and sweaty Cassian bought me another so I didn’t have to wash them so often. 

I had no clue where he got them, but somehow these were even more beautiful than the last set. My mate even got me a Illyrian steel corset that would keep me from being lacerated, as well as metal bracers to protect my wrists. At first they took some getting used to, the weight of them a new feeling, but now they were like a second skin. 

“Sword high princess,” Cassian instructed me as I felt the weight of the wooden sword start to bring my arm down. 

“It's heavy!” I protest swinging at him again, this time with both hands on the hilt to hit him harder, even though he told me not to do that.

His sword clashes with mine and in one swoop he uses his wooden blade to raise my own. My hands were high above my head as he stood inches from me. 

“I know it’s heavy just wait until you wield a real sword,” he says, placing a kiss on my nose, taunting me. “And don’t use both hands, in real combat you’ll have a shield as well, you’ll need to be able to use that sword with one hand.” 

I let out a low growl before stepping on his foot, earning a groan from him as he didn’t see it coming. My sword sits heavy in my hands as I swing it, knocking his legs out from under him and using my shoulder as extra force to put him on the ground. He lies on his back below me, wooden sword tumbling from his hand. I see him reach for it and lightly press the toe of my boot into his wrist and lower myself on top of him, placing the pretend blade to his throat.    

Cassian’s hazel eyes look up at me in pure awe and amusement and something I had only ever seen from him, pride. 

“Is it bad that this is turning me on right now?” he barked out a laugh causing me to break my menacing stare. 

I snort at his words, letting up the pressure I had on his arms in the process, “Cass you ruin everything!” I laughed, tossing my sword to the side and shifting my foot off his wrist so that I sat fully on his stomach. 

“You call it ruining the moment, I say I’m making it better,” he smirks as his hands find my hips. 

The Lord of Bloodshed leans up to place a passionate kiss on my lips. My hands find either of his cheeks needing him closer to me than he already is. As his tongue swipes my bottom lip and enters my mouth I let out a small moan that has him shifting beneath me. 

“Really guys on the training mat? Is nowhere sacred anymore?” Azriel’s causes us both to nearly jump out of our skin. 

“Cauldron Az,” Cassian curses, putting a hand over his heart like it might’ve stopped. “Enough with the spymaster shit you scared the piss out of me.” 

A smirk tugged at Azriel’s lips, “You deserved it,” he remarked, going to wrap his hands. 

I shift my weight off Cassian and stand offering him my hand. He takes it, even though he’s twice my size and if he truly used my help I would end up on the ground again.  

“You’re getting better princess,” Azriel praised me. “I’d say it’s time you wield a steel sword instead of a wooden one.” 

“Maybe,” Cass warns, dusting himself off. “The last thing I need is you slicing yourself open.” he said to me.

“What afraid I’ll mar my pretty skin?” I tease rocking back and forth on my toes, remembering how Cassian all but worshiped me last night, claiming that the stories of my rose petal soft skin were true. 

“No I’m afraid that you’ll accidentally bleed out on me,” he replies, flicking my nose. 

Azriel chuckles beside us, “You’re far too protective of your mate brother, she can handle a real sword if she can handle your ass.” he taunts. 

“You forget that if anything were to happen to her Rhys would have my head,” Cassian rolls his eyes, placing our swords back on the rack behind him. 

“I suppose you’re right, but she has to start sometime.” Az shrugs, finishing the wrappings on his hands. “Alright princess who you got today?” he asked me. 

I let out a laugh as our new tradition reared its head again. For weeks now after Cass trained me Azriel would come down and they would spar. I would always gamble on who would win the first match, sometimes I would win, sometimes I would lose, it was all in great fun. But lately the boys had been taking it much more seriously and I couldn’t help but laugh at them and call them “Illyrian babies”. 

“Hmmm,” I said, pretending to think. “Considering I just handed Cassian his ass I think you’ve got this one Azriel.”

“Pfft in his dreams,” Cassian scoffs, ripping off his shirt. Azriel copies the motion and I can’t help but feel my cheeks heat at the sweaty males in front of me.  

“Then let’s raise the stakes then,” Azriel boasts. “I win, y/n trains with steel tomorrow” 

“You’re on,” Cassian taunts as he squares up. “Baby, I hope you aren’t prone to splinters because you’re going to be getting them for a while.”

Azriel took two steps back towards me, “Wanna give me some good luck?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

I laughed and gave the shadow singer a playful kiss on the cheek. 

“Now we’re talking,” Azriel laughed, flipping his swords in his hands. 

“Oh you’re a dead male where you stand,” Cassian smirked.

In an instant they were a storm of steel. If it had been a real fight I’m sure wisps of cobalt and crimson power would be among that twister of metal. But their rule was no siphons when training.  In a weird way it was beautiful the way they fought. During the training sessions with Cass I had come to learn that fighting was much like dancing, it was about anticipating your enemies next movement. Knowing where to step when, how to move your feet. 

They were both evenly matched in every way. Even though I spent every day pretending to think about who might win I never truly knew. It was always a guess, or a gut feeling. So far I had bet mostly on Cassian, for obvious reasons, but whenever I put my money on Azriel he seemed to show up. 

As I watched them deflecting eachothers blows and grunting with the sheer force of striking and blocking, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever be as good as them. If I would ever be able to truly fight and win against the warriors. 

My thoughts were interrupted when I saw Azriel’s back hit the ground, his wing being pinned underneath him. Cassian stood above him, chest heaving and pointing his sword at the shadowsingers neck. 

“Do you yield?” Cassian asked out of breath. 

Azriel simply held up his hand to ask his brother for a lift up, silently admitting defeat. Cass took it and hauled the spymaster up in one heave. 

I clapped my hands slowly as Cass walked over to me knowing that this is when I typically took my leave to wash up for dinner.

“It was a good match,” I smiled at my mate trying to hide my disappointment about not being able to train with real swords yet.

Cass slid his fingers under my chin and tilted it up so he could place a goodbye kiss on my lips, “You’ll train with steel tomorrow,” he smiled before returning to his own training. 

I gave an enthusiastic whoop before retreating to The House of Wind to clean up and prepare for dinner with Feyre and Rhys. 

Months Later…

It had finally happened. Feyre had found out that Rhys was her mate and she wasn’t taking it well at all. 

Rhys was distraught when he found me in the library reading. He told me what had happened, from the ambush, to the Suriel telling Feyre about the bond. I honestly spent most of the time being surprised that the cursebreaker had been able to find the Suriel in the first place. My brother told me that his mate sat in the old cabin in the Illyrian mountains and I knew instantly that I needed to see her. 

I had watched the two of them come alive for each other these past few months. Saw Feyre become stronger and more sure of herself. Watched my brother turn back into the male he was when we were just kids. I had befriended the Archeron girl all the while, offering her comfort when I could, as we shared many of the same experiences, being locked up, being in an abusive relationship, being under the mountain…

I ran to Cassian asking him to fly me to the cabin and he did so without a second thought. He saw the panic in my eyes, the need to be there with her, to offer her some sort of comfort. Because as if fate had intertwined us we now shared another experience… being the last to know about our mating bonds. 

As Cassian landed in the snow outside the cabin I wished I had brought more furs. The wind ripped around me, chilling me to the bone. I shook off the memories of being thrown into the Winter Court and marched my way up to the cabin door giving it a knock. 

Feyre opened the cabin door dressed in breeches and a thick sweater, her hands and face covered in paint. 

“I can leave if you would like some privacy, I just wanted to check on you,” I say earnestly trying to keep my teeth from chattering. 

Feyre’s blue eyes look to me and then back to Cassian who stands a few yards away. “Come on in, I could use a friend.” she said quietly and my heart warmed at the word ‘friend’.

I nod to Cassian who takes off into the sky before stepping into the cabin. The warmth of the raging fire immediately heats my cheeks and I discard my furs onto a nearby chair. It had been years since I had been back here. We used to spend solstice here, just the four of us. Of course that was before mother and father died, and I hadn’t been back since. 

I look around and gasped. All over the walls Feyre had painted our eyes, my family's eyes. Each so distinct I could name each one. Amren and Mors, Azriel’s, Rhys’ distinct violet, and at the end, Cassian and I’s painted together. 

“These are beautiful,” I say in awe, looking over each set again. 

“I just needed something to get my mind off things,” she sighed, collecting the paints in a box. 

There was a moment of silence as I tried to let her decide where she wanted the conversation to go. She closed the box with a sigh and then turned to me. 

“Did you know?” she inquired, her eyes flickered with hope and I realized she prayed that I was just as in the dark as she was, that she wasn’t alone in this. 

My heart dropped and her eyes faltered as she heard the answer in my hesitation. “I wanted so badly to tell you, but I knew it wasn’t my place to say anything, it was between you and Rhys.” I say sitting on the floor by the fire. 

“I understand why you didn’t say anything but I wish someone had told me,” she says solemnly before joining me on the rug. 

“Believe me I wanted someone to tell me too,” I chuckle as I lean forward more soaking up the heat of the flames. 

Her eyes shoot to me as she seems to remember how I was in the same situation not too long ago, “When you found out Cassian was your mate, that he had kept the bond a secret from you, were you upset with him?” she asked. 

I cocked my head trying to remember what I felt that day in the Autumn Court, “Honestly it happened so fast that I can’t remember what I was feeling exactly, but I know I wasn’t angry,” I chuckled. “I had loved Cass long before I ever said it. He kept the bond from me because he thought he was taking a weight off my shoulders. He didn’t want me to feel like I had to choose between my mate and my court. I wish I would’ve known, it would’ve saved me a world of trouble because I would’ve chosen him no questions asked. But I understand he had his reasons for keeping it from me.” 

Feyre gave a shallow nod, signaling that she had heard me. “But why didn’t Rhys tell me?” she asked, her words desperate and I wasn’t sure if it was a question I could answer.

“I don’t know for sure.” I said honestly. “But I do know this, Rhys has spent his whole life believing he is a monster because of the front he has to put on for others. I think sometimes he forgets why he puts on that front, to protect his people and his family.” 

I take a deep breath wondering if I should continue but I can’t stop the overflow of words coming from me, “I think he didn’t want you to feel shackled to a monster. All you’ve ever known is the darker parts of him, he wanted to give you a chance to let you know the good parts, then let you decide for yourself,” I place my hand on her arm and her eyes snap to mine. “All I can say is that Rhys wouldn’t keep it from you if he didn’t have a good reason. You don’t have to hear him out today, tomorrow or even next week. But I think you should at some point, if only to give yourself the peace of mind of knowing the full story.” 

Feyre nods again, grabbing my hand and squeezing it tight, “I’m really glad you’re here,” she confessed, her eyes going glassy. 

“Anything for you Archeron,” I smile, feeling my eyes glass over too.

I'm so fucking excited for the next chapter I'm buzzin' guys...

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[madlittlecriminal]

YESSSS smuttober has arrived!!! I do so require a smutty smutty fic with my boy, Miguel O'hara. As long as it includes (you guessed it)

a love confession,

stretch marks,

plus sized! reader with mad insecurities (but Miguel is mad about you not finding yourself hot AF.)

You can do what you will with that! if you need a lil itty bitty plot I'll give you one lol just hmu.

One in a Million ⥓ Miguel O'Hara × Plus Sized!Female!Reader

yeeeahhhh! i might release a Steven Grant one soon, so stay tuned for that. there's also a few hobie ones that I have to release and I might release one later today since i didn't post one yesterday :')

Ne-Yo inspired the title. sue me.

Warnings: fwb to lovers, angst, insecurity, fluff, smut, unprotected p in v, riding, lots of kisses, oral (f!receiving), praise

disclaimer: im not plus-sized, but i do have stretch marks since i have thick thighs & a small booty. feel free to give me feedback to improve.

for the month of october, im only writing smut. anything that is only fluff or angst will have to wait until november. requests are open if you have anything you'd like to send me.

You ran your hand down your stretch marks and sighed. While there was nothing wrong them, you felt slightly insecure about it. Especially when your best friend was Miguel O'Hara that you occasionally had sex with. You both were friends with benefits, but of course, no matter the gender, the ethnic background or body type, they would flirt with him. It sort of hurt because you were in love with him, and he didn't know it.

You also didn't know that he was madly in love with you.

"¿Todo bien, muñequita?" (Everything alright, doll?) He asked as he leaned against the doorframe of your room, startling you a bit since you didn't hear him open the door. You relaxed and nodded as you heard him close the door behind him. "Yeah, I'm okay." He raised a brow and wrapped his arms around your waist. "Are you sure?" You looked up at him and gave him a fake smile. "Of course." He shook his head. "You're such a bad liar, you know that?" You rolled your eyes and pushed away from him. "Maybe we should just stay as friends, Miguel." He was taken aback and scoffed. "What?" You gulped and he shook his head. "No. I don't want to be just friends."

"And why not?" He walked over to you and grabbed your hips, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. "If you tell me what's wrong, I'll tell you why." You glared at him, and he cocked his head to one side, waiting for you to respond. "Because I have stretch marks. I have cellulite. Plus, it's not like we're an actual relationship. I'm just asking to drop the benefits aspect." He chuckled and shook his head. "And I want to drop the benefits and make you my girl." Your eyes widened at his words, and he smiled. "You're kidding." His hands rubbed your thighs as his eyes met yours. "I'm definitely not. I love you. From your heart, your soul, every part and mark of your body. I'm not ashamed to say I fell in love with my best friend."

He nuzzled his nose against yours, making your cheeks warm up before he planted a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you too..." Miguel beamed before placing you on your bed and began kissing you again. You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'm actually quite pissed that you don't think you're beautiful, you know that?" He whispered against your lips. "What?" He looked down at your dress and looked back at you. "You don't need this, do you?" You raised a brow before shaking your head. He gave you a curt nod before ripping the dress off of you. "Let's get one thing straight, muñequita: you are fucking stunning, alright?"

"You think so?" He smirked before pressing a kiss on your neck, then going down to the top of your breasts that were still covered in your bra. "No tienes idea, mi cosita bella." (You have no idea, my beautiful thing.) He took of your bra with ease before running his tongue across your nipples. You moaned, your fingers running through his hair. "Fuck, Miguel." He looked up at you with a smile before going down to shower your torso in kisses. "I really don't see how you don't think you're beautiful. You're sexy." He kissed your stomach and the stretch marks that decorated it, his eyes never leaving yours. He continued his journey down as he began to kiss your inner thighs before bringing them up and kissing the bottom of them, kissing each stretch mark along with your cellulite, humming in pleasure.

"I love every inch of your body. You are a damn goddess in my eyes, baby girl. Never forget that." You hid your face with your hands, but he quickly removed them. "Let me see that pretty face." Your eyes met his and he smiled. "There she is." Miguel plants a kiss on your clothed cunt, causing you to moan. He took them off of you in one swift motion before licking your cunt, your fingers gripping his hair. His mouth closed around your clit as he moaned from the tugs you gave his hair. The vibrations from said moan, made you cry out in pleasure, making him chuckle. You swore he was trying to make you cum right then and there because the vibrations were too much. "Miguel!" He smirked before he continued to eat you out as if he was a starved man.

"Oh my god!" You pressed his face closer to your pussy, making him slide his tongue inside you. He fucked you with your tongue until you couldn't hold back anymore, coming on his mouth and tongue. "Always so delicious." You felt the warmth from your cheeks, but you weren't sure if it was from his words or from the orgasm. Either way, you weren't complaining. Miguel quickly undressed and sat on the bed. "Ride me." You bit your lip before climbing on top of him and aligning yourself on his cock before slowly sinking down on it. "Ay, mi amor. No sabes que rico se siente estar adentro de ti." (Oh, my love. You don't know how good this feels to be inside of you.)

You moaned in response as you began to bounce on his cock. His hands rest on your hips as you grip his shoulders, his lips meeting yours, swallowing your moans and whimpers. When you went back down, you began moving your hips back and forth on Miguel, making him break the kiss and throw his head back. "Asi mi corazón. You make me feel so good, you know that? Such a beautiful woman. All mine." You nodded as your brows furrowed while you moaned softly. "All yours, Miggy." His lips met yours once more while his hands traveled up and down your body. "Good girl," he mumbled against your lips, making you clench around him. He groaned with a smirk before his hand went back down to your hips and pulled away from the kiss. "Want more, baby?"

"Please," Miguel nodded before lifting you up and down his cock, groaning and moaning. You ran your fingers through his hair as your eyes became hooded along with his from the pleasure. He then kept you steady before he began thrusting his hips up, pounding into you. "Oh fuck, baby! Yes!" You moan, wrapping an arm around his neck as he kissed your shoulder while fucking into your pussy. "Play with that pretty clit of yours while I fuck you, baby." He whispered. You reach down with your free hand and began playing with your clit. "That's a good girl. My beautiful good girl." You clench around him again, feeling yourself reach closer to your orgasm. "Cum for me, my goddess. Cum all over my cock."

With a cry of pleasure, you cum on his cock. Miguel continues thrusting until he holds you close to him as he comes inside of you. "Fuck!" You stood there for a bit before getting off of him and laying on the bed. Miguel smiled as he caught his breath, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. He got off the bed and grabbed a pack of wipes that were on your bedside table and cleaned you up before cleaning himself. He plopped down next to you before pulling you closer to him and resting your leg on his hip. "I love you so damn much, my love." You smiled and kissed his chin. "I love you too, Miggy." He rubs your back softly. "I hope you know every inch of you just makes you more beautiful in my eyes. The others don't matter to me when I have you. You're all I want and all I need. You're one in a million, my love."

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 39

PREV

Nicky screamed as he found himself yanked from his bed as he fell to the ground. The blanket that he had so perfectly burrito’d himself in had been pulled and he had gone with it pillows and all. He laid on the ground blinking up into the darkness wondering what the hell had just happened, he squints and thinks he sees blond hair. He racks his still loading brain to try and think of anything he had done recently to Aaron that would result in such a rude awakening.

The lamp clicks on.

“Nicky, are you- Andrew, what the hell.” He hears Aaron’s voice from the left and now Nicky can see the black armbands of his other cousin.

That tracks.

“Flight 8329 from Charleston International Airport to Seattle Tacoma International Airport took off 20 minutes ago.” Andrew says as if that means anything to Nicky.

“Cool?” Nicky squints at his cousin.

“There was an hour delay due to a staffing issue, but it is off the ground now.” Andrew continues and Nicky continues to not understand what is being said to him.

“Great?” Nicky hears Aaron.

There is silence in the room and Nicky finds himself starting to drift back to sleep. The floor really wasn’t that bad.

“So, Daniel’s not here anymore?” he hears Matt’s whispered question.

“Dude, why are you whispering?” Aaron asks.

“Smithsters still asleep.” Matt says voice still quiet.

“How the fuck did he sleep through Nicky’s banshee scream?” Aaron asks voice lowered down to a whisper.

“I think moving all his stuff wiped him out.” Matt offers.

“We moved everything he just said where he wanted it.” Aaron grouses quietly.

“You know Smithster isn’t much of a talker.” Matt reminds.

“Whatever.” Aaron huffs and Nicky is almost back asleep.

“Yes Matt,” Andrew says voice quieter than it had been when he had been rattling off facts about Daniel’s flight, “Daniel is not here anymore.” He says.

That is actually great news. Feels like a shame that FF didn’t wake up to hear it but Nicky knows that it wasn’t just the move that had wiped his friend out.

The last three days had been interesting.

First, Aras had flown back home. She had offered to stay longer with FF since Daniel was still around, but he had merely smiled and told her that he’d be okay. Nicky had almost cried when FF had said that he wasn’t alone anymore. Nicky’s heart twisted when the two decided that it was probably for the best that FF not come back to Washington for Winter Break.

Second, there had been the whole debacle where Daniel had shown back up with the man who had married FF’s mom. They had burst into the practice and had gone straight towards where FF was sitting sipping his ‘New and Improved Day/Boyd Smoothie’. Wymack had gotten between them before anything happened physically, but Nicky could still see how FF froze at the sight of his mother’s husband.

There had been raised voices, threats of security, demands on why ‘John’ hadn’t answered his phone to come bail his ‘brother’ out, that he’d forced his dad to come all the way across the country to bail his ‘brother’ out. FF had been quiet looking bored and unbothered by the tirade of the man who married his mother.

Wymack had been in rare form.

“He didn’t pick up because that phone is in my desk.” Wymack had hissed standing utterly stalwart between FF and the two men. “Now get the hell out of my Court before your son gets reacquainted with the Campus Police.” He points towards the exit.

FF’s Mother’s husband had demanded FF’s new phone number but neither Wymack or Smith gave it.

It was only as Wymack lifted his own phone up to his ear after having dialed campus security that the two got the hint and ran off.

Following that there’d been the expedited emergency restraining order request that had been pushed through.

Nicky and Wymack had been the ones that went with FF for support during the request since everyone else had a prior engagement. The security footage was all that had been needed to grant it as far as the judge was concerned despite FF’s Mother’s husband’s pleas that it was merely a ‘fight between brothers’.

Nicky had almost wished he had given Andrew the Maserati back when the jackass had shown up to the hearing with his son wearing a T-shirt that said ‘I’m not the step-dad. I’m the dad that stepped up.’

Oh.

He opens his eyes and tunes back into the conversation. It seems like Aaron had come to the realization that the only way that Andrew would be awake at this god forsaken hour of- Nicky looks at the alarm clock- 5 AM is because he’d been in the same bed as Neil who was a notorious early morning runner.

“You want the Maserati.” Nicky interrupts the whispered argument.

“No, I’m just here to comment on how Smith’s motorcycle helmet really ties the whole room together now that he’s moved in.” Andrew rolls his eyes so hard that even if Nicky hadn’t been looking at his cousin he would have heard the eyeroll. “Yes, I am here because it is now officially impossible for me to hit Daniel with my car. That was the deal.” Andrew says with a scowl, “So you are taking me to where you stored it.” He says.

“Andrew, it’s too early. They’re not open yet.” Nicky groans grabbing one of his pillows and trying to hide his face under it.

It was unsurprisingly ripped away before he could properly hide away from his cousin.

“We have to walk to wherever you hid my car.” Andrew hisses.

“Andrew you’re not seriously going to make me get up and walk the whole way there on the first morning that I can sleep in.” Nicky groans.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you hadn’t stolen my car Nicholas.” Andrew hisses.

“You guys can take my truck.” Matt says with a huge yawn as he settles back into bed. Morning practice for the rest of the week was not mandatory.

“See, we can take Matt’s truck. The place is only a 30 minute drive away and it doesn’t open until 7 AM anyways.” Nicky groans and tries to roll under the bed. If he can get to the far side then it will be difficult for Andrew, with his 5 foot nothing height to reach-

Andrew puts a foot between him and freedom.

“This room is buying Neil and I breakfast.” Andrew says, “And then we’ll go pick up my car.” He says.

“What? Why?!” Matt and Aaron demand as Nicky groans still trying to roll under the bed despite Andrew’s unyielding foot.

“You all either knew about Nicky’s plan or were part of Nicky’s plan.” Andrew says.

“Okay but Smithster is innocent.” Matt says.

“True, but we need him to come.” Andrew says.

“Why?” Nicky groans changing direction to try and roll under Aaron’s bed only to be stopped by the absolute barrier that was Katelyn’s suitcases of off-season clothes she kept under Aaron’s bed since her own room didn’t have space for it all.

“So we can get into the breakfast place now instead of the usual time for people our age. The owner loves him.” He says.

Ah, FF’s old lady magnetism.

Nicky gets it.

The boy has very pinchable cheeks.

There are very few things one can do when faced with an Andrew Minyard who has decided upon something. Eventually their whole room was up though Andrew at least was far more gentle with FF than he had been with Nicky. FF could sleep through almost any amount of noise but would wake up at the slightest touch and go still.

Nicky really wishes that Andrew had a less conspicuous car because he’s sure his cousin could have gotten away with running Daniel over if he had a Volvo or a Ford.

Nicky went with FF on the back of his motorcycle. One of Aras’ parting gifts to him had been an orange helmet with ‘Foxy’ written on it. Nicky had loved it immediately and unironically. Nicky held onto FF and hoped that his friend was awake enough to actually be driving on the damn thing, but FF had seemed at least 90% conscious.

Either way they arrived at the breakfast place FF was pushed to the front to speak with the owner of the fancy breakfast spot and within 10 minutes they were at a table surrounded by the elderly early bird patrons.

The all-you-can-eat brunch was always both a challenge and a danger when you are a group of college athletes. A challenge because it always felt a bit like a race against the chefs who were churning out chicken, waffles, hams to slice, eggs of all varieties, bacon, sausages, French toast, cinnamon rolls, hashbrowns, quiche, pancakes, biscuits and gravy, and lox bagels. The danger was what Matt was currently finding himself in since the man had failed to pace himself. “I think I’m gonna die.” Matt groaned.

“Smith, where did you get that smoothie?” Aaron asks looking as FF was sipping a delightful looking smoothie.

“The owner gave it to me while you guys were filling your plates.” FF says. “I’m supposed to let her know if I need another one.” He says.

“When are you going to be off that liquid diet?” Aaron asks as he digs into some bacon.

“Well, next week I can just start essentially putting things in the blender and I shouldn’t suffer the consequences like with the borscht.” FF shrugs. “Gran said she’d send along a pie to celebrate when I can eat solids again.” He adds and FF’s face is as blank and as unemotional as it usually was but there was a general air of sadness.

“You know, I don’t think it’d bother Allison or any of the girls if you joined us for winter break.” Matt says from where he was staring up at the ceiling still overfull from going too hard too fast on the egg options.

“I don’t want to intr-“

“It’s not an intrusion.” Andrew says looking at his phone, “We’re inviting you.” He adds before getting up and grabbing his backpack, “Do not let them take my plate.” He says looking at the table. Andrew’s plate was laden with the sweeter side of things for breakfast and he had made up a plate for Neil who was supposed to meet them at the breakfast spot.

Andrew left and nicky figured he was going to go grab Neil outside. “Isn’t it for the original Foxes?” FF asks.

“Yeah, but you’re our friend so it’s fine if you come. I know Dan wants to really get to know the guy who took her place on the line.” Matt says with a laugh that has him looking queasy afterwards.

“You and me can room together.” Nicky says.

“Isn’t Erik coming?” Aaron asks incredulously.

“Yeah? So?” Nicky questions.

Aaron looked at Nicky like he was an idiot and opened his mouth likely to say why, “I don’t want to intrude. I can probably just sleep on a couch out in the main area, if your friends are okay with me coming.” FF sips at his drink. “You and Erik have a lot to catch up on.” He says voice giving that slight indication that he felt awkward.

Catch-up on-

Ohhh.

Yeah, he and Erik are going to christen that bed if it hasn’t already been christened.

“We’ll figure something out.” Aaron says easily enough.

Eventually Andrew returned with Neil in tow. He was a little sweaty looking but definitely look like someone who had been running for about two hours at this point. He figures that Andrew must have brought spare clothes for Neil to change into so that he’d be acceptable in the breakfast joint.

“Smith has agreed to join us for Christmas Break.” Nicky announces to the couple as they took their seats.

“Quite brave of Smiths considering how the last holiday break went when he came with us.” Aaron says wrly.

“Yeah Andrew, make a deal not to stab Smithy again.” Nicky holds out a pinky for a pinky promise with his cousin.

Andrew rolled his eyes as FF piped in, “Romero stabbed me.” He says loyally.

Eventually they got to talking about their plans for the Winter Banquet on Friday. Nicky was going with FF as his date and had already gone out and gotten him an appropriately bespoke suit with Aras the week before.

Eventually they wrap up breakfast. Nicky, Aaron, and Matt all pay and they make their way out to the parking lot.

The parking lot where the Maserati was.

“Andrew, how in the world-“

“Like a locked gate would even slow Neil down. Got the opening time and the driving distance from you this morning and narrowed it down to the only long-term parking lot in the area.” Andrew says idly as Neil hands over the spare Maserati keys to him.

Nicky spends a bit more time bitching about the fact that Andrew woke them all up mostly out of spite and as a cover for getting his car back without Nicky’s assistance. However eventually the time for class swiftly approached.

“This isn’t over!” he says pulling on his Foxy Helmet and pointing at Andrew.

“I think it is.” Andrew replies with a shrug as he and Neil climbed into the front of the car.

Nicky rolled his eyes but climbed onto the back of FF’s motorcycle.

Winter Banquet was in 2 days.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

[liplinerloser]

Sukuna who absolutely destroyed you in a fight but last minute pities you and doesn’t kill you because he finds you interest

he’s eating my brain pls and thanks

Sukuna spares you

The disgusting crunch of your destroyed cartilage was the only thing that met you in your futile attempt to raise whatever was left of you on the floor, tendons bubbling with the firing of the nerve endings, screaming at your brain for respite. even screaming ripped every last chord that this seemingly final fight had torn from you.

For a moment you had to pause, even with your unwillingness to lie down and die, what would be next for you?

Sukuna Ryomen, The king of curses, had never let anyone live a happy and fulfilling life after they had survived him. He was a ruiner, a corrupter, he would peel every ounce of happiness away from you and fill the void with tumours of despair.

There was no escaping him, which had become obvious at the unnatural state of your legs, bent in opposite directions, bones protruding from whatever flesh had survived his attacks.

Your legs would need to be cut off.

What good would they do now?

And yet even with such obvious weakness of your flesh you couldn't help try to preserve what was left of you, seeing his shadow looming over you forced you to pitifully crawl back, dragging whatever was left of you with you.

"You wont make it far like that", he practically sneered in your direction, words oozing with malice. but you knew there was truth to it. Roadkill looked in better condition than you, even a cannibal would be deterred by the state of your carcass.

You were a dead man walking.

Remaining defiant in your last breath, staring at the face of your mangler, spitting dripping blood in a spray at his feet, staining his pristine robe crimson. "id rather die trying", even the act of smiling caused all the muscles in your face to burn, your tongue hung limply in your throat, blood soaking your airways like a sponge. Eagerly you allowed the sweet metallic liquid to clog your throat, praying to die by your own vices rather than whatever cruelty he had savoured for you.

He clearly had enough fun playing with you, you hadn't broken even in your state, he would kill you and be on his way, and you would barely even be a memory in Jujutsu Society, another statistic victim of Sukuna. All you could do was close your eyes and brace, you prayed it was quick.

In a divine motion, his hand, balled in a fist had raised above him, in what you could only imagine to be the final blow; mentally you counted down the seconds. Your hands touched the soft grass pillow beneath you, a smile curled at the corner of your lips, it was the last time you'd know such earthly pleasures which you had been granted your whole life. your whole wasted life. The blow never came.

Your eyes which you had pursed shut in fear opened gently, cracks of light invading your vision and an expression of confusion plastered on your face. what was taking long, it wasn't like the renowned executioner was known for dragging things out; you're sure the king of curses has plenty of other things to tend to, like fucking destroying Jujutsu society. so what the hell was taking so long?! As much as you wanted to be grateful for the prolonged event of your death, unless you had a skateboard and morphine you weren't going anywhere.

"Rise"

His booming voice commanded so forcefully if it hadn't been for the state of your legs you would have scrambled to meet his gaze. Instead you craned your neck up to the best of your ability, his lifeless iris' stared back, holding a glint of disappointment.

"You have potential, I like a challenge. Improve or die"

As if he hadn't crippled you and potentially ruined your life, he turned on his heel and walked away without another word or anything as generous as a glance in your general direction. as if you were inconsequential.

You would kill him, or die trying.

[hearvex]

can i ask for this Juan guy lore :v i saw his tweet when it had like 3k and thought it cant be good but i dont know anything about him. its upsetting to see 12k likes tho like why are people fighting against human fights tho

oh this is a long one, who's Juan Guarnizo, the streamer who has recently tweeted against the french union in regards of the qsmp.

juan guarnizo is a colombian streamer (who now lives in mexico with his wife). he's participated in Tortillaland, a roleplaying minecraft series, as a wizard of sorts. He then decided to create a "spin-off" series (more cinematic/pre-planned) called "El Dios de Todo" (The God of Everything, his character's catchphrase). So he partnered with Euphonia, a popular Minecraft Studio that has created games such as SquidCraft, Dedsafio, SawMinecraftGames, and more.

He announced he was looking for several roleplayers for this project, and people started complaining on twitter because some of the requirements were pretty much insane.

Some include, full availability for 6 hours a day everyday for an entire month, good quality microphone, not being able to livestream the content, just record it to be used after the proyect was released, knowing how to rhyme/rap/sing/imitate voices and animals/general voice acting talent and being able to improv. All of that for the price of 0$. The payment? The enriching experience of being part of this unpayed proyect with your favorite content creator.

Well turns out people still didn't like this idea, justifiably so, and continued to call him out on twitter. His initial response was as follows:

(Hello, I understand that you know little about the project so I'll explain it to you: The God of Everything is a series based on a story that we will tell in the most cinematic way possible, therefore it is only possible to have one pov and not 40. Participants will be able to take advantage of the series on different social media platforms but not live. How much benefit they decide to get out of it is up to each person. The 6 hours a day thing is insurance, because there will most likely be days where your participation is half an hour and that's it. Also making it clear that professionals such as voice actors who will also be in the series will be paid for their work. We are creating an experience never seen before for me, the roleplayers and the audience, whoever wants and can experience it will enjoy it very much. It is something that we are putting all our heart and desire into for those who want to see the story. Communities that are not going to see it at all, at least don't fill it with your toxicity or bad vibes.)

Basically excusing himself by "I'm doing good by allowing you to join, please don't let toxicity ruin this". Which was still off, because professional voice actors would be getting payed but somehow the rest wouldn't, weird overall. Several POVs would be recorded but only one would be able to broadcast it, Juan. "we'll pay you with exposure" ahh deal

I haven't followed him since this happened, some claim he then did pay the actors, but even if that were the case, that would've never happened if it weren't for people calling out his exploitative bs. Which is exactly what's happened with the qsmp, only this time it's not a cancellation on twitter dot com, but a whole entire french union.

What I think their fans don't understand is that this is not a mob campaign against their faves, it's about protecting the working class from the privileged who refuse to pay them correctly or sometimes never at all, granting them rights to defend themselves when cases like these arise. This goes for people who claim Juan learned from his mistake, he clearly didn't if his immediate reaction to the union was:

(It's good that they formed a union, so they all hold hands together and fuck off)

So either he's forgotten his "lesson", or he only payed them (if that even happened) because he got caught and wanted to prevent a future cancelation).

[yowyowyaoi]

Itachi’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Konan

Nobody eats until you come out and eat with us 😤

Thank you! You’re the only one who even noticed 💙

You need to do a better job of hiding that kitten lol  it pushed open your door and walked down the hallway again

Of course! You know where I keep it you don’t even have to ask 😊

I know I’ve spoken to Nagato about them he’ll handle it

You have GOT to come try this new massage chair I got it’s heaven 😌

From Deidara

Come on I was just kidding!!

Please call him off if he bites off my hand again Sasori said he won’t replace it 😔

Sharingan is not art it’s dirty cheating 

The counter is covered with plates of eggs, did you do that weird sleepwalking thing again?!

Me and Hidan and maybe Tobi. Come on take the stick out of your ass and just come with us!

I’ll paint them if you braid my hair first.

Why do you always blame me?? Hidan probably took it!

Omfg I SWEAR I meant that for Sasori!! 😳 Please please don’t show Kisame he’ll kill me 😫

From Zetsu

He’s just so emotional is that an Uchiha trait?

I can literally smell your exhaustion you need to go and rest

Yeah very cute. Be a shame if someone ate it 👀

He was doing fine. Got a lot taller. Looks a lot like you in the face.

No I’m glad you made him leave that dude freaked even ME out 😵‍💫

From “Tobi” aka Obito

Can I borrow your face cream? This mask makes my skin itch like crazy!

God stop it man are you TRYING to speed up going blind?!

Would he take your last name or would you take his? 🤔

No. Never. They think I’m a dumbass, remember?

Little more time in the sun would probably help 🤷🏻‍♂️

“Crushes” are for little kids. And anyway he hates me 😔

I thought about that yeah. Reminded me of your mom’s. She always made the best ones.

I’m not sure of anything kid. But we’re in it too far to back out.

Idk you just looked super pale

Ask Sasori to make you more, they’re helping a little 

Idc what Zetsu says. I can do a lotta shit but cannibalism isn’t one of them 🤢

You think I didn’t see you sneak in that pie? Either share or I’m telling Kisame.

From Nagato

Come and join Konan and I for tea. We’ve got a new blend we think you’ll like.

Permission granted. Just be back within three days, I’ll be sending you two on a mission then.

Thank you for the tips. My eyes feel much better now.

Take your time reading it. When you finish I’d love to discuss some of the themes with you.

I know you dislike meat but perhaps a bit more protein might help improve your stamina.

I don’t mind but do not let Kakuzu see it.

From Hidan

Movies with me and blondie?

Yeah but he’s half-animal right? Still counts, pervert.

PLEASE make the splinters in the ass joke PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU😭😭😭

If I didn’t take a piece you would have ate the whole fucking thing yourself and your stomach would burst. You’re welcome 😊

No that was definitely Deidara’s gay ass

Mask boy’s looking for you

Oh right like Kisame wouldn’t beat my ass for that 🙄 Nice try asshole

God damn it’s 3am when the FUCK do you sleep?!

We’re not “plotting” anything just come with ffs 🤦‍♂️

It was an accident and I didn’t even look that long don’t tell her she’ll slice me up with that sharp-ass paper 😖

From Kakuzu

You always being on time with your rent is most appreciated.

To be honest I don’t really know. But at this point I’m too far into my feelings for him so this is my life now. 

Getting enough sleep is important. Nagato agrees that a new mattress would be in your best interests. No arguments.

I’ve ripped off his leg and made it clear it won’t be returned until he returns your property to you.

I’ll consult with Sasori and get back to you.

Konan is insisting everyone text you to come down to eat. It’s my turn. Be advised that continued delay will result in one or more of us coming and retrieving you by force.

From Sasori

Please inform me right away if you notice any adverse side effects. I may need to change the medication or adjust the dosage.

Oh, thank you for reminding me. I wouldn’t want a repeat of last year. What sort of gift do you think I should give him?

You’re more than welcome to anytime. You know I don’t sleep.

Finding the correct body is the most difficult part. All that follows is merely routine.

He can be very sensitive. I’m still learning to decipher and appropriately react to his emotions.

May I borrow that book when you’ve finished it?

Heh. That’s actually very funny.

Try not to overdo it. Your chakra levels still haven’t recovered from the last time.

You may want to hurry back. Zetsu has been circling outside your door like an animal and trying to sniff under it. That lock may not hold.

From Kisame

You remembered your meds today right?

Did you eat?

Yeah? I bet I could work out that tension 😏

Cake is not acceptable for every meal, Itachi.

I got a new blanket, very soft. Come test it out with me 💙

I’ll talk to him about it don’t worry.

For God’s sake just TAKE A NAP!

Have fun but watch your back, I don’t trust those two.

Pretty warm out tonight. Midnight swim later? 😏

You left your necklace on my dresser

Leave it there. You’ve already got one illicit pet you don’t need a second.

I’m cooking, you’re eating. No objections.

My hands are craving being in your hair 😔

I did not eat him. Zetsu is a liar.

You got any more pics like that? Please? 👀

I 💙 you too

[olderthannetfic]

I went scrolling through anti ao3 tags and blogs because I was bored and not doing the shit I need to do and you know for a group of people who every year twice a year throw such hissy fits you’d think they’d at least have a point, but all their arguments make no sense(except their one main one that they almost never use?--why??) Like ok, there is one argument for why people shouldn’t give money to ao3, and that is the argument that ao3 is bad website because it has bad policies and refuses to moderate. I disagree, but ultimately if someone thinks that ao3 should update the TOS and moderate what fan fiction they allow, it makes sense that that person would be against the site making money because… well they are against the sites founding principles, I’m not shocked they don’t want it to succeed.

But the rest of the arguments!? Man they make no sense at all

“They are scamming you there is no way they need that much money”, ”its immoral to give money to ao3 because they already have so much!”, “Even if ao3 was perfect, its ridicuslous to give 100K to a fan fiction site!” — like… maybe I’m the asshole here, but ao3 made about 250,000 this spring, so they make about 500,000 a year… that’s just not that much money! That could what, pay for 10-30 employees at best! And that’s not counting the actual cost of all the shit they currently spend their money on! I get that ao3 is run by unpaid volunteers so antis think that 500K is a lot, but that’s not true! That’s not a lot of money at all! It might be a lot of money for an individual but for a company that’s practically pennies. Wikipedia, which granted is a lot bigger than ao3, with 57,218,269 pages to ao3s 6 million works, makes 155 million to ao3 500,000. According to antis ao3 has over a million in reserve and well according to wikipedia they have net assets of US$240 million. One is clearly more than the other!

I saw someone say that servers should be 1K, which is so stupid and out of touch with eveything I almost died laughing. I had a project using firebase this semester, I created 2 projects within firebase one for my school project and one to dick around and figure out. I accidentally set my test database to a “pay as you go” version instead of a free version. And almost had to pay a thousand dollars for the month! I wasn’t even using that database it was just sitting there but I check my google billing to make sure I wasn’t paying anything and it turns out I was! 150 dollars actually so that sucks! (My fault though)

Also also I keep seeing that its ridiculous and evil to pay the much for a site that “doesn’t improve” but the “doesn’t improve” is referring to A) no changes in TOS, which I don’t want to happen any way so good. B) the fact that it’s still in beta, which I don’t give a fuck about and I don’t understand why I should care. I think antis are dont like that the layout hasn’t changed but I don’t want to the layout to change. Also things come out of beta because they are a commercial product to be sold(this is very simplified), which is why some things come out of beta to waaaay to early and are glitchy as all hell! Ao3 isn’t being sold to me its slowly being built and archiving things that would probably be lost, and it will probably technically be in beta forever, but it doesn't effect me and I don't care. Would it be better if it came out of beta only to continously updated like a lot other shit does. I don't really play video games but I know ppl that do so I know at least once a game came out that didn't really work and people needed to later update shit for it to function and I'd argue thats worse than a functional website just being in beta forever. C) The claim that it hasn’t changed at all, which is just not true! They added the exclude section and eventually added the blocking shit. The blocking took too long to come out, so I guess in this sea of dumb criticism theres at least 1 piece of critism that makes sense. And finally again I don’t want it to change! Every other week we are all bitching that Tumblr or YouTube or Instagram or any other app are needlessly changing the layout or adding shit we don’t want in order to keep up with latest trends, make it more marketable or try and attracted new users. Ao3 is great because its never going to change. Ao3 and Craigslist will always kinda look like ass and I’m ok with that. If it aint broke ¯_(ツ)_/¯

I could keep going but there is no point. I just think they are all so stupid.

--

The thing about beta is the funniest because AO3, like oldschool shit from the 90s, has actual criteria for coming out of beta.

It's not "we've been going for 10 years" or "we want to sell the product": it's "we've checked off all the things on this checklist".

And they still haven't done them all, so it's still in beta.

[stormyweaver]

okay so it's like 5am, and idk why I spent over five minutes trying to come up for a title for this when I remembered it's a fucking stand-alone drabble type... thing. i'll catalog it and everything else on my blog later.

ANYWAY!

This idea wouldn't leave me alone (as a few of you already know, you cuties <3 thanks for listening to my rambling LOL) and I finally had the insomnia-induced drive to finish it. I just think Al and Vox deserve some slice-of-life stuff with sneezy shenanigans thrown in every now and then.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~

“I still don’t get why you dragged me to the fucking Recreational Center of all places. And on a Saturday? Seriously, we could be doing literally anything else right now - y’know there’s an early morning special on hammerhead sharks that I’m missing because of you…”

On and on, and on and… well, Alastor wasn’t sure if he could stand much more whining. At the very least the twitch of his left-eye would soon become permanent if he didn’t put a stop to things soon. 

Thankfully he didn’t have to use actual force, for the signage above their heads read that they had arrived at the correct room. 

Though the moment Vox’s gaze caught onto the flyer posted over the door, he immediately went back to griping. “Cooking-- Cooking class? You signed us up for a fucking cooking class?! What the hell, Alastor?! I literally could be at home if I wanted to learn how to cook!”

The skin beneath his eye jumped once before Alastor whipped his gaze to Vox with a speed that seemed to startle his companion. “Why don’t you tell that to the three separate pans I’ve had to replace due to your abysmal cooking attempts, hm?” It was technically three pans, and one very antique dutch oven. In a show of rare generosity, he had given them to Vox after finding no use for them himself. And regretted the decision entirely. Not to mention that he very nearly burned the kitchen down in one instance. Oh sure, it was Vox’s apartment, but so long as he insisted on having Alastor over for meals, he wasn’t going to be taking any more chances. 

As was expected, Vox pouted and crossed both arms across his chest in a huff. “I already told you, those were shitty quality pans, and–”

“One was cast iron, Vox. You nearly melted a cast iron skillet. Do you have even the slightest notion of how horrendously unskilled one would be in order to manage that?”  No response, aside from Vox’s pout deepening. “That’s what I thought. Now come along, we don’t want to be late!”

– Though Alastor had thought it impossible for Vox to act any more petulant, once the class had started his companion seemed to make it his mission to act like an absolute child for the remainder. While Alastor himself didn’t require any new lessons in the kitchen, he did enjoy the act of cooking far more than anyone else present seemed to. Granted, most were here for their inability to cook but unlike Vox, who was slumped onto their small counter and grumbling about whatever inane show he was missing out on, the rest of the class was actually paying attention and at least attempting to make progress. Curious how even in Hell, sinners were still trying to improve themselves. Well, they did have to eat, Alastor supposed. 

The dish they were working on today was effortlessly simple - scrambled eggs. How in the Nine Circles anyone could manage to muck up this dish was beyond him. Though apparently some had already managed to try by whipping the shells into their mixture, just barely caught by their instructor. 

Alastor tutted, then gazed down at the recipe card in his hand and wrinkled his nose.

Ingredients: 

2 eggs

Salt to taste

Just salt? Well, that certainly wouldn’t do. For a halfway decent scrambled egg, one needed to employ at least pepper - not to mention a few other ingredients he personally utilized to give the scramble a bit more kick. Not needing any permission, he began pulling out the various spices and vegetables he required. Prompted by the movement, Vox had finally stopped his sulking and looked to the array of items with a raised brow. “Why do you have so much out? The recipe only has two ingredients, Al.”

“Ah, so you have been paying attention! Certainly could have fooled me,” His grin widened as Vox glowered at him, “If you’re going to learn how to cook, then you must learn how to cook properly. Certain recipes require a personal touch, my good man.”

Vox snorted. “Was this whole thing just an excuse for you to prove how ‘superior’ your cooking skills are to the teacher?”

When Alastor gave a noncommittal hum, Vox tacked on, “I’ll take that as a yes– wait, cayenne? In eggs? I’ve never–”

“Of course you haven’t, which doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. You simply can’t have eggs without spice, it’s unheard of! To those with good taste, obviously,” Alastor plucked the small container as Vox watched, unimpressed and definitely uncertain, “Just a dash is all it takes. It really does bring out th–”

Though he’d only used a single claw to tap the small cylinder, he bristled as the top popped off, the dark-red powder pouring out into a heap onto his otherwise cloud-like scramble. Well, fuck.

Vox didn’t even bother trying to hide his amusement, snickering as he gazed at the mishap. “Just a dash, huh?”

“How irksome…” Alastor sighed, but decided there was no use crying over spoilt eggs. While he began prepping another batch, a tentacle rose and deposited the ruined ones into the trash bin beside Vox - a bit too roughly, if the cloud of spice that rose up from its depths was any indication. 

“Jesus, Alastor– kff! Kff! You couldn’t have warned me?!” 

Alastor rolled his eyes, his smile having grown a bit more tense. “Do you mind? I’m attempting to salvage what’s left of his mediocre class, now hush.”

“God, you’re such an a– KFF! A– hahhsshole…” Vox’s voice trailed off into an unsteady gasp, vents bristling as the clouds of spice enveloped them. He tried to get a hold of his breathing, but it continued to sputter out until, with a sharp inhale, he ducked down against his forearm.

“eh’IZZSCHHH!!!” 

The sneeze would have been enough to startle Alastor, and he did twitch a bit from the volume, but what caught his attention was the lights flickering above their heads. That was… unexpected. “eh’IZZSCHH’ue! heh’IZZSCHH’t!” One of the overhead bulbs cracked before shattering, causing a few sinners to yelp in surprise. Alastor’s gaze flickered back to Vox, who was sniffling and rubbing at the center of his screen with a grimace - and a hint of embarrassment. And the small but detectable haziness that signified he still had to–

“Hehhh’hih!! ih’KZZSSCHH!! Fuck, I-I can’t– ‘TZZSCHH!” This time, a sharp current of electricity shot out from Vox’s frame, Alastor nearly missing getting zapped by side-stepping just in time. He could see the energy still skittering along Vox’s trembling shoulders and, judging by how his little mishap had already caused one bulb to break, Alastor wasn’t planning on being responsible for potentially shutting power to the whole building. 

Huffing, he all but yanked Vox by the wrist, and soon the duo were teleported back out onto the sidewalk. Vox staggered forward, still unused to Alastor’s means of travel and fixed him with a watery-eyed glare. 

“Again - a little warning next t– t’hhh’hehh! t-time– hAHH! AH’IZZSSCHHH’HUE!” Unfortunately, Alastor had still been close enough to Vox, and he flinched as he felt the energy course along his arm, prickling his skin, frizzing his hair– oh, that insolent little–

Apparently Vox had already gotten the hint and took a generous step back, palms up in a sign of submission. “S-sorry, I can’t control it!”

“I’m aware,” Alastor ground out, attempting to smooth out his hair, “Was all that really necessary? If you truly wanted to leave, you could have at any time, you realize? Instead of making a spectacle of yourself?” 

“It’s not my fault! That damn spice got into my vents, and- snf! Ugh, it still is, I think… fuck, it itches.” He continued scrubbing at his screen, the middle now saturated a soft but bright pink in contrast to the typical teal. Despite his irritation, it pained Alastor to admit that the sight of Vox sniveling and embarrassed almost made him feel… eugh, sympathy. Almost. 

That inkling of unusual emotion switched to slight panic when he heard Vox’s breath catch again. 

“F-fuck– ehh’heh! hhEH’--NHH!”

The sudden pressure of Alastor’s finger against his screen was almost enough to startle Vox out of his sneeze, and he blinked a few times before heaving a shaky sigh. “I’m… I’m good, now… thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Ever.” He emphasized the word with a flash of his demonic form, but Vox’s fear gave way to a deadpan as he watched Alastor wipe the hand he’d touched Vox with along his jacket. “Well, I’m a bit put off from eating at the moment. Still, it is a lovely morning. Perhaps a walk in the park would be suitable for clearing your… vents, hm?”

Vox nodded. “Sure. So long as there aren’t any flowers, I’m all–”

“On second thought, I’m leaving. Ta-ta!”

“Oh come on, Al! I was joking!” It wasn’t like there was actually ragweed in Hell… right?

[drippingmoon]

Merry new year to everyone, again! 🥳💞🥂

I know it wasn’t an event this year, but writing a yearly wrap-up is really therapeutic, you know? So I decided to continue the tradition, and if anyone wants to join me, absolutely view this as an open invitation^^ Introduction is over, and now let’s see what 2023 looked like:

(spoilers: I adored it. I'm also probably going to make this my fixed post, in case anyone ever wants to catch up with me. And also because my second baby, AoS, is growing, and it doesn't have an intro, but I can't leave it out.)

Stats

Aquiver, Aglow: 181k (draft 4) + 195k (draft 5) + hmm, draft 6 is an outlier, because I didn’t rewrite from scratch, so I’m unsure of the written word count. I didn’t change much from draft 5, so I’d say an extra 15-20k. Total word count: 376k+

Remains of a Night: 120k 

Aberration of Sunlight: 134k

This was definitely my most productive year to date. And I got so hungry: the more I wrote, the more I just wanted to keep writing, and honestly? I’m proudest of myself for literally carving writing time whenever I got a spot into my schedule. Mostly it was from 8pm-11pm, but I had a mad run where my only free window was from 1am till I literally felt I was dying… I’ll talk about that separately🤣🤣👌

Though, I'm seriously understating it.

Like a lot of other people, I would have all these hours when I was younger when I didn't have anything to do, yet I'd still find some excuse not to write. "I'm waiting for the right time." "I'm anxious I'm not going to get it right." "Tomorrow! Tomorrow I can start right from the morning, and I'll have more time to write, yeah?" or "I'm too tired now, it's late..." and so the snowball rolled down and downhill and I found every reason under the sun not to write, now that I think about it. Sigh. So much time wasted. But I can't regret it either, because I needed those baby steps at that time.

And now! Now I do what I thought I'd never learn to: I prioritize, and I actually organize my daily stuff so it's not so impossible anymore to have a little bit of writing time. I don't take it for granted either. It feels like such character growth for me, I'm immensely proud of it.

And for the record? This year was a huge improvement over yesteryear mentally, too. It turns out, what I needed to get over my word count anxiety… was to be faced with people who literally didn’t give a fuck about it, and just cared about the story. One of the most unexpected things beta stage managed to do to me… was to quench all my anxieties. It’s as simple as that. I read and enjoy very long books. People also do that. So, I’m very happy to say I’m no longer in a tizzy about ‘quiv. It might kill my chances for trad publishing, it might not. I’ll be happy come what may.

Because it’s so simple how working on ‘quiv or thinking about it makes me joyous, and now I can just enjoy that freely. I will miss writing this story so much. I really will. But at least I’ll have it forever to reread, and I hope this thought brings comfort to everyone who also has problems letting go, like it does to me.

Let’s break it down a little, shall we?🤩

Aquiver, Aglow◇◇◇

My little star of the hour. How fond I am of it.

Like you could glean from above, ‘quiv went through three drafts this year. More specifically: in the first part of the year, practically almost as soon as February arrived. I knew it was getting closer to the final version, and gave me the push to finish all three back to back. I couldn’t justify anymore the bazillion AUs I do with rewrites (basically, WHAT IFs from events, WHAT IF it went this different way, WHAT IF Tyrone actually said this here… and so on and so forth. I wanted to test out as many pathways as possible, and did I exhaust every one of them in existence? Definitely not. I don’t think that can happen, you just keep getting new ideas. On and on. What happened, instead, is that these couple different pathways, at some point, cemented themselves as canon in my mind. I didn’t want to tease myself with alternatives anymore, and that’s when I knew they would be it. Some bits from the first draft, some from the third, some from the second. Some were even draft 6 originals!

It’s a bit of a weird process. I definitely didn’t need to reach draft 3, and meet Mezusa, because I could’ve feasibly made it work with just Yles in the story. It still would’ve made sense, though in a different way. But if I hadn’t… I might’ve missed one of the best characters I’ll ever probably have created, and the story (and Yles) is much stronger for her, if you ask me. 

For that matter, yes, full rewrites every single draft might take a lot of time and effort, but honestly I don’t think I’d ever change my writing process (save for the moments of frustration when I think I will lol) because of the sheer satisfaction of it. Whoever said so long never to settle on the first version, I owe you a beer and probably some curses as well lmao, but very lovingly. You shaped my writing life.

I don’t have much else to share about ‘quiv, other than it’s off with my beta readers my beloved, and maybe a tentative promise that, if anyone wants, you’ll be able to read this precious ball of hope of mine relatively soon. This story is so gentle to me. And as much as I loved to write and work on it, I dearly hope that whoever decides to give it a go, is treated just the same. That’s the only wish I have.

I also don’t know if I’ll go trad or self-published. Instincts say trad, because I fuckin’ suck at marketing (fact), and I know I’d grow resentful if I’d have to put so many hours into advertising when I know I could instead… write. I’m a writer. That’s the only thing I know how to do. Trad, however, might not be as kind on a ~200k as life’s been, so I might not have a choice. If it comes down to that… I’ll just treat it as I do everything. I don't love this story any less if I just write, publish without a fuss, hope that maybe, just maybe, a reader or two will stumble upon the story and we could talk. Maybe we can have the fun of our lives, create some genuine connection. I know that’s applies to a lot of writers. I hope we can accomplish it.

And so, I’ll finish this section of the wrap-up with a kiss to my ‘quiv, for all the warmth it’s ever brought me. It’s come so far, I know it can live distinct from me from now on. It brings me great comfort. And I look forward to the times I’ll reread it, and we can relive our best experiences together. Never thought I’d get to this point. Thank you, ‘quiv.

Remains of a Night♤♤♤

Mwhahaha! And because ‘quiv took all the pressure, this left AoS to be an extremely fun and spirited experience. Literally the chillest I’ve ever been writing. In many ways, it’s more my thing than I expected ‘quiv to be: I get to murder characters left and right, it’s more plot-heavy and banking on the tension created by a creature that horrifies the characters down to their marrow, but still the only way to defeat it is to know it better, which, uh, might have unpleasant consequences for them. It’s got chase and stealth scenes, and it always shoots me with adrenaline to think about them. In short, exactly my jam.

It’s not a new book, nope. You knew it before as Aberration of Sunlight, but from the get-go I felt it would be bigger than ‘quiv. Very fortunately for me, I had a place where to break it, and behold: there’s RoaN (book 1), and AoS (book 2). There might be a third book, which I dearly hope not because titling sucks, but it depends on the Sycamine arc. More on that in AoS.

One last thing to note, before we delve into the story (hoo-ray for earlier drafts, because I can talk more frankly about them). This is the culprit of my 1am writing adventures!!😫❤ My schedule became too packed, then NaNo came round and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to honor how AoS began, because it was last year’s NaNo, aaand I’m happy to say I won NaNo, somehow, with 56k down before I died. At that time, I only had one section left to write (from both books), otherwise, hahahaha, yeah, it wouldn’t have flown. Still, most of draft 2 I’d written in September-October, with my fairy lights, late nights, and cups of hot cocoa, exactly like how life should be<3

Alright. We’re going through them chapter-by-chapter again, exactly because I love seeing the titles so much:

ACT 1

Cracked Visor, Scorpion Grass

I did it! I did! Twas another shower thought I managed to get down in time. Bare broken sentences, but they did the impossible, and arranged this chapter into a structure I adore to bits and won't ever change. (And 'quiv's naughty voice left me alone for once and I could write it properly!) While I don't think I'll ever be happy with a first chapter (not as a concept, but the writing — part of me will always wish that the reader just had all the information already lol), this one is in the right place.

It pays its respects to the story of the broken helmet at the foot of a spaceship, and how it reconnects Madigan with all the people who'd suffered from being tethered to the planets when they yearned to fly, but the Beast punished them cruelly for it. It makes him feel phantoms of their efforts. The tone is exactly what I needed this story to start from: melancholy and numbly hopeless, against the backdrop of the Beasts's echoed cries.

Rain Through the Universe

Unlike 'quiv, because RoaN and AoS are way more plot-heavy, it's not as easy to change things willy-nilly (whereas 'quiv was all about character bonds and dynamics). As such, it's very similar to draft 1. Because of that, I'll frankendraft next (select and combine drafts 1 and 2, rewrite to connect them) and afterwards I'll try something I've always wanted to. (Scrivener keeps hinting at it!) I'm gonna split the chapters into scenes, and focus on those individually and how I can just rewrite them and set their purpose in stone<3 I'm excited!

As for the chapter itself, gods, I love the atmosphere. Just the wreckage of a sundered ship, and Madigan’s sudden madman appearance making a lasting impression on Spica, because how could it not. They no longer answer distress calls in that age, it just means more dead bodies. In fact, they're forbidden to. Madigan instead brings him what he himself lacks: hope. And a lot of crawling around while dreading the Beast's lambent eye opening, and oh my, the moments are really flying by😈👏 extreme fun for me as the writer.

Aberration of Light

If you remember, the books follow two timelines, which will connect at some point. The first and main one is Madigan and Spica’s story. The other is Holloway’s, in the distant past of that universe, and who’s been dubbed the most selfish man in existence. That’s important, because of how the Beast came to be. But that becomes important later. For now, a weird-ass new recruit has joined the ship, and the witchy crew will very soon start making bets if she’s the Beast in human flesh, which really wouldn’t bode well for their future.

Night Falls On Their Reflection

Draft 2 became Spica’s draft. It was high time. He didn't exist in the original idea beyond chapter 2, but he refused to die with his story untold. And now he's one of the most independent thinkers I've ever written. Now he's Madigan's son (yes, even at 25), best friend, back-to-back partner all in one, and I could watch the trust and mutual respect between these two forever. To be sure: Madigan comes up with the dumbass plans, and Spica's only too happy to follow him through everything (it is good fun.)

He's repaying the incredible kindness Madigan's shown him when answering his distress call, after all.

But it goes a bit further than that, doesn't it? Madigan is used to watching over myriad people. He's the Superintendent of his planet, and while he genuinely loves people, kindness is his default. It doesn't go further than that for him. He doesn't necessarily think people need, much less desire his presence there beyond Madigan extending help, and most of the time, he's content with that. Kindness does make him happy. And it should be the same with Spica now, shouldn't it? He's kind, but he's not Spica's family, nor ever will be. Yet he immediately feels a connection with the boy, that has nothing to do with bonding over escaping-a-cosmic-disaster. And so does Spica.

This is the moment when Madigan starts feeling guilty, for stepping where he should not. But here's the beauty of Spica's character: he's nothing if not dead sure of his own feelings, and what he sees with his eyes. It's okay if Madigan keeps unexpectedly taking steps back. For very long, there'd been nobody to support Spica's beliefs. So he does the same, as when he followed his heart to go into dead space: he believes in himself and Madigan, and that their paths aren't meant to diverge. They mean too much to each other for that to ever happen.

(In short, and legend says you can still hear me screeching about these two ten thousand years later, I love these two so much, and especially the parallels between Spica going alone into outer space and loving Madigan.)

(And, okay, obviously all these developments don't happen in a single chapter, but I couldn't stop gushing🤭🥰.)

Who Puts These Tombs in Ice

Overall, I think draft 2’s Luitgart performed worse than draft 1. Mainly it's the setting I want to revert (still an icy, sempiternally dark hell, but with different ice constructions) because some of the beats are a huge improvement, and again, I gotta combine the two. Otherwise, I’m still as obsessed about the Luitgart arc as I’ve ever been, and huge thanks to it for being so strong it could function as an ending of its own, allowing me to split the book.

Gettin’ into spoilery territory, but I have to un-kill Madigan so many times it leaves me in hysterics. That was what I was supposed to fix this draft. It got worse. Considerably.

(One constant: the chapter being a love letter to Madigan, and how his first answer will always be to help the other, no matter if they deserve it or not<3 and finally, finally, he gets acknowledged for it, and the favor returned.)

ACT 2

Lemon-Dotted Days + Remnant

Two Holloway chapters! I’m actually massively pleased with how they’ve turned out. Last year, I said the main issue was that I had an outline, and that never works for me. So I did what I do best and rewrote everything from scratch, and the result is both uncanny and… unexpected.

Unexpected, because I never in my life thought Holloway’s voice would make me laugh so much. He’s supposed to be unsympathetic, but then you get his interactions with Saintlark (the new crewmate, possibly Beast) where they’re contemplating the harvest of a nebula, and he’s harshly critical of it, which gives Saintlark hope… only to go deadpan One Moment Later: if they’d used the nebula to prolong their lives instead of bolstering the war, they wouldn’t have died like clown idiots. 

And, they could’ve maybe stolen immortality from the nebula. They would've had to share it with him, of course. Or he would've murdered them to get it.

That, my guys, is his personality in a nutshell.

I have a lot of feelings on Holloway now, and most involve me huffing and slapping my forehead while groaning, but oh my gods. Was it ever so fun. And wait, wait, wait. Since I'm talking of humor (apparently a lot of comedy fit into this horror lmfao) I have to show you guys the following section🤣🤣👏:

Corpse Snow

The drifters are set howling on the ice. They share glances, five separate vehicles nodding at each other. Madigan revs up the engine, splitting the air with a jet of steam and vibration.

The last of the marines are climbing into the box. A figure flashes past Madigan’s drifter — and he leans over, teeth grinding because of his ribs, and he does his very best to grab someone by the back of their suit and pull. Workout days were never his strength, though. He only succeeds in stopping them in the frost smoke.

It’s Spica dangling from his hand, expressionless.

Lieutenant Hahn instantly seizes on the situation. He throws Madigan a long, withering look. “Whatcha doing, Boss?” he asks softly, about to unhinge his jaw again.

Madigan nudges Spica into the drifter. “Picking up your boy.”

Spica gets the hint and deposits himself into the front seat, glancing from his father to his Superintendent. He seems to give up on whatever’s going on, and makes himself cozy in the frosty spot. And Madigan, of course, pretends not to notice Hahn’s drifter sliding closer.

“And you didn’t consider I might want to have my son with me?”

Madigan looks up and sighs. “Lieutenant, dear Lieutenant,” he starts pleadingly. “Why won’t you show some leniency to a poor, wounded man?”

Hahn’s drifter stops, summoning a breeze across the icy floor that gently rocks the other vehicle. His breathing distorts the comms with static. “And what exactly is my son right now?”

“My trusty navigator,” Madigan answers easily.

“Sir’s emotional walking stick?” Spica pipes in at the same time.

They both look over. Spica’s quietly turned to the navigation, as serene as daylight, seemingly oblivious to how Madigan's expression changes, lightning-fast. He quickly hides it under the guise of a polite mask, as the marines stir and turn their attention on them. They’re snickering.

Lieutenant Hahn throws up his hands, giving up on everything.

This is also the first 30k chapter I’ve ever written. It's everything I've ever wanted to do with ice.

Heart of the Void

The end of the book. Originally, it was the ending section to Corpse Snow, but since it already got so ungodly long, I chipped off that bit and I have to say I’m very happy with how it works as an epilogue! So it ends the frosty, weary journey, and I can’t see the two books as separate yet, but here we bid goodbye to the first.

Aberration of Sunlight♧♧♧

I did the unthinkable and created a fifth arc. This might not seem like much to you, but I was screaming bloody murder you guys😭😭😭. Sigh. It’s so sigh. For so long, AoS consisted of four clear-cut acts, but it was necessary. With the introduction of Sycamine, and making it two books, it was just needed. It’s still one of the worst things I’ve ever done because I was used to four😃💔

(The chapters continue from where RoaN left off – from chapter 10, to 21.)

ACT 3

Retro Spectrum

Sycamine, oh Sycamine. Definitely the break I needed before Days in Darkness. It made for a really neat beginning. It’s calmer, focusing on the knowledge they have on the Beast. It’s also a reflection on Procyon (their main star) and the story of the two straggler dog constellations, and what they'd been running away from. I liked the direction it took. It veered away from the Beast for a bit, so the tension kept expanding in the background. And when it returns, well... maybe they shouldn't have been so eager to see it again🤭.

It suffers from the same syndrome as draft 1’s first chapter… it’s there in the vicinity of the idea, but too much to the left. Not bad for a first attempt. The setting annoys me – I really don't enjoy writing cities, and AoS didn't change that. So, for our next try, I was thinking... maybe we don't need to be on the planet, but up close and veeery personal with it. It's a secret❤.

And, oh gods. I put a moustache-twirling villain in this. And then I couldn’t stop myself from naming some sucker Sweetman Calories. I don’t know what happened to me during those days, but I’m crying🤣🤣🤣.

Toast to the Light

Holloway and Saintlark’s story is slowly coming to an end. Unexpectedly bleaker than draft 1, yet it feels much more sincere. Holloway has a way of saying everything Saintlark needs to hear. No surprise. They did that to themselves.

Dissonant Recognition

Ahhhh, the Madigan-is-slowly-losing-his-grip-on-reality chapter, or maybe he should really stop staring into the suns. One of my favorites<3 Also because it features Moren (!!!) who has a blast staying in the grey morality area, because she doesn’t know if her actions could ever matter, or if she could change anything. Does she just exist? Is she a player or just pawn? Who knows. Besides that, she gets along great with Spica. They form such a teasing duo, the level of mutual respect they felt for each other on sight was a delight to write. My favorite ally of theirs, even if her destiny lies elsewhere.

Night Beneath the Elevator

Best title hands down, dethroning Solgesis. I’m going batshit crazy about the visuals, it's exactly my thing. This half-light slanted over an elevator waiting in a rundown basement to be boarded. And there's something underneath it, and always has been. Something insidiously creeping up and waving its tendril fingers at you as you're just waiting for the fucking thing to ascend. Immaculate, guys, I'm telling you, and I'm cursing my hands because I can't make a wallpaper of this. I want to eat that atmosphere.

Time-sensitive missions, y'all.

And why the heck did nobody inform me I was going to add Command as an actual character and have them talk with Madigan?! That entire convo, made up entirely on the spot but somehow with a direction, made me realize what an idiot I’d been for not doing it sooner. They mean so much to Madigan, after all.

(And Mariya. So much Mariya in these chapters.)

ACT 4

Loop System

Like Who Puts These Tombs in Ice, draft 1 might’ve done it better. Not Spica and Madigan, though, because of the sheer development Spica’s been through and the dynamic he’s managed to form with the crew. It's different from Madigan’s, but similar enough that it’s got Hahn commenting lightly: [Spica’s] picked up quite a few habits from Madigan, hasn’t he? Almost as if they’ve gotten very very close, huh? How about Madigan tell him more?

(I adore writing Hahn.)

Outreach

Another Holloway chapter. Doesn’t have the punch of the kids subplot from draft 1, but this just makes it worse for Saintlark personally, because, this time, the consequences are on her.

Days in Darkness

I knew the moment I first got the idea this would be my favorite chapter. Well, it finally happened in draft 2: when the entire crew is here, this time, and ready for the final countdown, to relive the experience of being trapped in a ship that's disintegrating. No more heroes left behind. I'd been so tired writing this chapter in draft 1, but this time around it was incredible. Everything went up sharply from here, both in terms of events and how on fire I was.

(Maybe less than the gorgon, but I was.)

ACT 5

Echo Terminal

The first of the two log chapters.

I've never written smoother, more visual chapters than in this period. Days in Darkness changed me so much, I was writing day and night by this point and couldn't get enough. Well, I hit my limit in the second half of the very last chapter, but I am beyond satisfied. Even the Beast's metamorphosis took me by storm, because I'd been wondering what the final verbs, the final images, the final design for it was going to be. I didn't expect it to come to me this early, and with such thrill. Those were my very best days of the year, and I toast to them.

(And I knew it was going to be fantastic when Halo's Warthog Run OST started blaring in my head, with as much adrenaline.)

Where, Now? + Solgesis

My beloved. The second and last of the two log chapters, but it’s Noelle Saintlark’s log.

Holloway’s timeline ends here. Or maybe it just gets carried into the future. I thought I’d want to rewrite his parts again, make the plot just a tiny bit more psychedelic and nonsensical because it’s so close to the Beast… but Solgesis put all my fears to rest. Even the formatting and layout is a bit of that special thing I’ve always wanted to try, and it really changes the perspective of the previous chapters. There's a new confession that stands at the heart of Holloway's stories.

Honestly, the only thing that needs urgent working on is the anger at the end of the chapter.

Anger is so hard for me to write sometimes. Not because I don’t connect with it, but because I feel self-conscious writing it. The wildest I felt it was when I tackled 'quiv's chapter 3 and Imera's Turning speech, both in quick succession (before I'd even written draft 1. I'd been taking notes.) Since then... I just thing back to how keenly I'd felt that anger, and I kind of intimidate myself out of it. Kind of like a natural resistence, I quench it from myself. Which is actually hilarious when you think about it. It’s like I’m going I BANISH THEE FROM MY BRAIN because generally, as a person, I dislike feeling and operating on anger. But no worries. I’m going to find a way around it.

Watch me😎.

What Goes Around…

(Now it’s the time for me to start crying some rivers, and, alright, it won’t be visible so I’ll say it: the chapter titles are holding a conversation, guys. They speak to each other. And sometimes it’s both sides of the same coin, like how What Goes Around (comes around) hints here. If you take two chapters, one from the beginning and one from the end (for example 1 and 21) it'll tell you a little secret. Okay, What Goes Around and Rain Through the Universe communicate through their plot, which I can’t spoil but of course it has to do with Madigan and Spica and how they first meet… but there is one title pair that does it best visibly. 

Lemon-Dotted Days and Days in Darkness.

And I hadn’t even planned this. All the parallels I wanted to draw… I feel like they built themselves, guys. They really did, and it makes me so wildly happy I don’t even know how to stop my hands from flailing.

And, with them being 21 chapters, they meet in the middle, on the one unpaired chapter.

Called Toast to the Light.

I friggin’ love everything.

New Sunrise, Forget-Me-Right

Of course, Forget-Me-Right is a play on Scorpion Grass. But it’s also such a gentle name for the chapter, because everything ends here. Lying on their backs, staring out into the universe, and it really, really is over. Just a dark horizon on which stars flare and bloom. And suddenly, that maddened rush to make every sacrifice count, to remember every soul they’ve encountered because the legend says the Beast absorbs you when it kills you – all that suffocating pressure dissipates. Lightness remains. Because they’ve protected each other.

For the first time in my writing journey, blood rushed to my head with such emotion I had to stop writing, which never happens. I had to look up and exclaim, holy fuck. But how could I not, considering how the story ends for the Beast? I am speechless. A lot of gorgeous surprises this draft.

Conclusion□●□

Whew, what a year it's been! As for how 2024 will probably look like, though I don't like making plans: finishing the beta stage for 'quiv, and tackling RoaN and AoS's draft 3. Thaaaat one I'm actually starting on Christmas, when I can (finally!!) reread draft 2 with my mug of hot cocoa (or maybe mulled wine for a change) and, no surprises here, I'm hyper stoked for that<3 <3 <3 I legit can't wait to see where the new draft brings them. I might not have set any expectations for them, but they're vying to keep up with 'quiv and I adore it🤭❤

As for my lovely friends... well, you know by how I spam your tags how much I adore you and wish you happiness forever🤩🥺🥳 I don't know what my activity will look like in the near future, so for now I won't be saying anything, and my semi-hiatus continues. Semi, because you're unforgettable and I crave to see what everyone's been up to and (!!!!) what you've written!

So let's meet in 2024 again, and all the best wishes to you, the reader🥰🥂❤.

[lazerv4]

Thoughts on Total Forgiveness

Just my raw thoughts not a review or anything

Total Forgiveness starts with Ally Beardsley and Grant O’Brian pitching the show they are about to embark on to Sam Reich their at the time President of Original Content at CollegeHumor (now CEO of Dropout). The pitch is simple, student debt is a cripplying problem and they came up with the accordion method, what if instead of many years of suffering under their loans they could instead make the suffering happen in 4 months and pay their debt as they gamble on challenges between the two of them for money which the show would award weekly. Sam hesitates but greenlights the show much to the delight of Grant and Ally who get right to work on the first challenges which end up being Grant has to interview a lawyer specializing on student debt while covered in leeches and Ally has to interview an ex partner about what went wrong while they eat the spiciest food Grant can find. Afterwards we see the actual challenges go through as Grant does his assigned interview while bleeding profusely and Ally has what can only be derived as a cringe nightmare of an experience with their ex eating thai so spicy they almost throw up, then when they are both done we see them together, they both look like they’ve been through hell and that is just the first episode.

Episode 2 begins a little bit meaner with Ally getting an Oompa Loompa makeover and getting their driver’s license renovated while Grant wears a dog shock collar for barking the entire day which leads to him spending the day mute, this is where we start to see the main dynamics of the show develop with Ally embracing the horribleness and Grant trying his best to have fun with it but struggling a bit.

Episode 3 is a kinder episode to Grant with him simply going camping which apparently he hates, meanwhile Ally is buried alive for an entire day in a sort of sensory deprivation coffin while they are still in the office.

Episode 4 meanwhile has Grant performing a cringe inducing stand up show purposely sabotaged to be terrible with the caveat that if a joke doesn't land he has to say “it’s all love” which just makes it so much worse, on the flipside Ally has to publish an excerpt from their teenage diary, a move which severely backfires on Grant as it seems like a growing experience for Ally that improved them as a person all things considered, no suffering all money.

At this point not a single point has been lost and both Ally and Grant are giving their all to the challenges and still enjoying themselves to some extent since the point of the show is to compress suffering they do struggle but nothing too bad has happened yet, this is where that begins to change.

Episode 5 is one of the hardest things I’ve had to sit through. Grant gets the challenge of being locked in his studio apartment with 8 family members for a weekend which while I’m sure it was a nightmare, it doesn’t translate to tv. All’s challenge this week was to sing the United States national anthem at a minor league baseball game and to make it way worse, they apparently don’t even know the lyrics so they completely fucked it up and even have a random laugh in the middle of it, it’s the sort of horrible second hand embarrassment that is legitimately hard to endure and I have seen some people say this and another upcoming Ally challenge are borderline unwatchable because it’s just too cringe, but if you can get through it the series has more for you.

Episode 6 is the phobia episode where Grant must face needles and Ally must face snakes, for Grant he just has to inject himself so B12 with the alleged most painful needle which he does albeit it leads to one of my favorite gags when he says “I’ll be fine in 5 minutes” after he pulls the needle out only for the show to cut to him having a full panic attack with an oxygen mask. Grant won his challenge and valiantly faced his fear but as for Ally, well things would go different for them. Ally’s challenge involved that some night, any night at all, Grant would come in with a live snake and Ally would have to sleep with it on their bed. While Ally had been a very ambitious and fun loving contestant, this broke something and they just completely refused to engage with the snake and complete the challenge leading to the first loss and the domino effect which would shape the series into what it became.

Episode 7 is where challenges start to get unreasonable, with almost 4000 dollars on the line this contest had to get difficult so both Ally and Grant came up with this, Grant wanted Ally to spend their whole week piss drunk which at first Ally enjoyed and it annoyed everyone else but quickly it started getting to them and by the end of the week you can see their health suffer because of it and the remnants of a broken person just trying to finish the last day to claim the win, while Grant broke Ally’s body their mind seems unbreakable. As for Grant, Ally came up with a really strange and complicated challenge, basically Grant had to get an erection with no stimulation while being timed which ended in a really bizarre contraption so this could be shown without well showing Grant’s genitals. This challenge has been often called unreasonable and impossible by many people and to an extent it is but Grant still accepted it and attempted it as hard as he could, an attempt that proved unsuccessful leading to his first loss of the show.

As of now Grant has earned $10750 while Ally has $13250, as the gap starts to widen so do the challenges as the series starts to lead to it’s climax.

Episode 8 is the real turning point of the series with Ally getting the other famously cringe and unwatchable challenge in having to become a herbalife shill to her new roommates and do unreasonable actions Grant assigns via an earpiece to try and make them quit but their will somehow remained strong which showed how much fun Ally was having with this whole show as the chaotic person they are, meanwhile Grant was having a rough time. Ally’s challenge to Grant was to sell all his earthly possessions at a flea market and try to earn a thousand dollars which a some points seems maybe doable but very quickly while Grant still doesn’t realize it, it’s very clear to the viewer and to the crew that Grant won’t be able to accomplish this. He leaves this challenge defeated and returns to his empty apartment with now nothing to his name except around $600, not only did he lose the challenge but he also lost everything he had, this is where we first start to see how this show has damaged Grant and Ally’s friendship and also emotionally damaged Grant who seems barely still holding it together by the end of the episode which leads you wonder, how can this escalate further?

Episode 9 got mean, Grant challenged Ally to get a neck tattoo with the name of their new girlfriend who they've been dating for 2 months while Ally challenged Grant to shit in public as performance art (again his genitals are covered but chest up everyone can see him). The challenges this week feel very mean spirited and with Ally now being up $24250 to Grant’s $10750 things are heating up and they are starting to feel more like bitter rivals than loving friends doing a dumb show together. Going with Ally first while Sam seems hesitant to approve this challenge Ally wants to do it and still seems have fun with it as a big dumb joke even if it’s their first tattoo it’s just a gag to them and they don’t mind the embarrassment with them even bringing said gf to the parlor so they can watch the tattoo be made. Meanwhile Grant struggles, even before the exhibition opens we can already see he is stressed and uncomfortable, he doesn’t seem like he wants to do it but the money is too life changing to not go through with it so he presses on, he is notified that when he is done he can pull a string that will drop confetti to signify he has completed the challenge and so he gets on the toilet in front of a lot of people. The atmosphere is not tense, it’s closer to something sad and depressing, something akin to the feeling of exploiting someone and when Grant pulls the string and the confetti falls, you can’t help but feel awful, a big thing through this episode has been Siobhan (another dropout cast member) giving some advice to Grant and Ally separately about how to mend what they are breaking and she stays as everyone leaves to speak with Ally as Grant angrily prepares to go home. As Ally approaches to tell Grant everyone was an extra, the mood is again tense, he just replies he is “done for the day” and that it was “funny” as he just walks away checking with the crew really quick to see if he can leave and then just exiting the building silently. This episode seemed to be the tipping point for Grant and what would have ended their friendship with Ally as even with this the gap just widened and made everything seem worse and worse while making each other more antagonistic towards the other that while Ally had been taking as dumb fun, they had now realized was hurting Grant and something had to be done if this friendship was gonna survive this show, let alone a 10th episode.

Episode 10 is just titled “Finale” with no allusion to the challenges like all the previous episodes so you go on not exactly knowing what to expect. It begins with other dropout cast members talking about the strain this show has had on Ally and Grant before going into the challenge pitching part of the show where Ally is alone with the production crew struggling to even come up with something until they says they have a pitch and the show cuts to Grant alone with the crew as well, they try to check on Grant to see if he is ok and he clarifies he doesn’t blame anyone and he is not the victim of the show but he is struggling. He is not sure what to pitch except something horrible and life changing so he is gonna go through Ally’s challenge first, cut to Jess and Katie (dropout cast members) in Santa Monica, they have a letter for Grant that Ally wrote the challenge is just to enjoy the day at the beach with his friends while wearing a dumb outfit and to decompress the show a bit to see if maybe he has it in him to forgive them. The show cuts to a montage of Grant having fun for his $10k prize just hanging in the pier and doing dumb stuff with Jess and Katie.The mood is so different, so fun and afterwards Grant talks a bit about what the show has done to their friendship and how he is regretful Ally couldn’t be there with them before announcing he now knows what his challenge is and shot fades. We start the scene in a bar called “State Social House” that same night as Grant and Ally meet in the empty bar and Grant reveals the challenge is to have 3 mezcals with him, while they begin drinking they also talk about their sentiments regarding what the money has done to their friendship, the reminique about what they've been through and what living with debt has done to them, how they hope to remain friends after this and even hopefully for the rest of their lives as they approach the third drink to which Ally comments about prompting Grant (a seasoned bartender) to want to smell and check it’s profile, this leads Ally to telling Grant to just drink it and take the $10k and to make the gap smaller to which Grant replies that he can’t accept that, at this point Ally has made their choice so they drop the mezcal on the floor on the most shocking moment on the entire show. What is next is just pure friendship and love for the people around you. Grant starts crying and they hug in the sweetest moment in the show, this is the moment that turned around the show according to Sam in a “episode 11” interview. The show then cuts to Grant paying one of his loans and he becomes able to finally be able to start paying his loans instead of just interest, Ally also talks about their loan consolidation as the show begins to wrap and we get the final scene with is a small dinner they set up and the talk about everything they learned about loans and how they are designed to make people’s life worse before the show ends with a toast to it’s history and a tally of the remaining debt before finally saying goodbye one last time.

Total Forgiveness did eventually get a reunion episode 11 sort of podcast thing but that is mainly talking behind the scenes about how of the rails the show went and how it was almost cancelled before the final episode essentially redeemed the whole thing from feeling like like a dystopian torture system as well as how Ally and Grant expected Jackass but got something much deeper, something about the effects of debt on people, something like most of dropout special. Total Forgiveness may not be for everyone, it can be a hard show to sit through, but for those able to go through with it the way it develops as an allegory for its own themes is fantastic and beautiful and in some ways the only example of prestige reality tv I can think of. It is truly one of a kind and a beautiful little show that can’t and shouldn’t be replicated, it should stand as a monolith and be cherished for all it accomplished in showing the struggles of debt. Ally and Grant did something incredible that would only be possible at a platform like dropout and with how the show turned out and how it stands along with other titans at dropout they should be proud.