#I need everyone to think deeply about this with me now

[alotofpockets]

Long distance date night | Mary Earps x ManUnited!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "I was having a bad day until I heard your voice."

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

-----

Four goal opportunities. Four chances you missed. When the final whistle blew you looked around the pitch for your girlfriend, like you had always done, but she wasn’t there. It hit a little harder today, your girlfriend no longer stood between the goalposts at United. 

Maya was by your side first, noticing the way you were staring at the goal where Fallon was sitting. She wrapped her arms around you in quiet understanding. You let her hold you for a moment. “Sorry I messed up,” you say barely above a whisper.

Your captain leans back out of the hug and puts her hands on your shoulders. “You didn’t mess up, you were one of our best players today. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” You wanted to believe her, but if you had just finished one of the goal opportunities you would have been able to at least tie the game.

She noticed that you weren’t fully believing her words, so she tried a different route. Looking back at your goal where your eyes had gone to again. “I know she is proud of your performance. I’m sure Mary was watching along and cheering you on every step of the way.”

You give her a small smile, “Thank you.” She nodded and patted your shoulders before moving on to the next teammate who looked like they could use a pep talk. She was good at the whole captain thing. 

While you still weren’t happy with your own performance and beating yourself up over the missed opportunities and the loss, you walked around the pitch to thank the fans for their support.

There was only one thing you were looking forward to though. Date night with Mary. Date nights had become a little different now that you were doing your relationship long distance, but you made it work. Tonight’s plan was to call and cook dinner together, the same meal so it really felt like you were having a dinner date.

On the way home from the match, you picked up all the ingredients that you would need for the recipe that you had picked out together. You weren’t totally present on the trip, your mind still a bit clouded with thoughts and replays of the match, but you managed to get everything on your list.

After a quick shower you put your laptop on the counter and got the video call with Mary ready. The moment you saw her, your face lit up. “Hi baby.” She smiled back, “Hi love. How was your day?”

“I was having a bad day until I heard your voice." Mary smiled softly. “Do you want to talk about it?” With a shake of your head you say, “Just the match, nothing to worry about.”

Mary didn’t just want to leave it at that. “Love, I watched your match start to finish. You played incredibly, player of the match for me for sure.” You roll your eyes at her jokingly, “You’re just saying that because you’re biased.”

Your girlfriend shakes your head, “I might be biased, but I think everyone would agree with me in saying you were the team’s best player today. What did Maya say to you after the game? I’m sure she agreed with me.” Of course she stayed to watch the post-match coverage as well. You sigh deeply, “That I was one of the best players, and shouldn’t be so hard on myself.” You look up at the screen again, “And that you would be proud of me if you were watching.”

Her smile grew, “See, not biased, just speaking facts.” She got you laughing again. “Okay, enough about me now. How was your day?” She talked about her day while you both started chopping your vegetables, and soon the distance didn’t seem to be so much. 

With all the veggies chopped, showing Mary you cut them just the way she liked it, it was time to put them into the pan and really start cooking. You felt Mary’s eyes on you as you transferred the veggies from the cutting board into the pan. “What?”

“I wish I could hug you right now. You look like you need it.” Mary’s words hit a little harder than usual after the day you’ve had, and her words bring tears to your eyes. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you cry.” You smile through the tears, “I know you didn’t. I just miss you so much. I looked back at the goal today, you know like I always used to do, but you weren’t there. I know we’ve got this whole long distance thing down, but in moments like that it just hits a little harder that you’re no longer right there.”

Mary nodded, she knew moving away was going to be hard, and moments like this were going to be tough. You had built up a routine together, a different one for whichever way a match would go, and now she wasn’t there to do that with you. 

Your girlfriend being her usual self, thought it was best to lighten the mood with a joke. “Make sure your tears don’t end up in the pan, we don’t want the food getting too salty.” You look at the screen with a blank expression before busting out laughing. “Good one.” You comment as you wipe away your tears. 

With dinner now simmering, you feel into deeper conversations again. You loved how just being on a video call could make it feel like she was right there beside you. Eating together was such a nice way to connect with each other, especially on days where you felt like she was worlds away.

Long distance was new for the both of you, but you were making it work. At the end of the day, Mary would always be one call away. And as you both raised your glasses to the screen, a makeshift toast that was entirely unnecessary but brought a smile to both your faces, it felt like she was home.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also support me by leaving a tip 💗

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

So, uh, to recap on the ladies of Andor, the pinnacle of progressive writing according to internet consensus:

Bix: After her character consisting only of "good at mechanics", formerly crafty (in the first Ferrix arc) and "traumatised", Bix gains a new character trait this arc - helpless rage and ✨✨✨drug addiction✨✨✨! Goodie. I'm so mad at this arc for her. We never see this woman happy independent of her trauma. We see her make happy for men - the shopkeep, Cassian occasionally, Brasso and co. in the first arc - but the only time we get an unobserved smile is when she gets her big Girlboss Yay Feminism revenge. And the featurette has everyone going "oh this is her moment", "this scene is about her" - IT'S NOT!! It's about Gorst! It's more trauma porn! Her happiness and functionality once again are dependent on men! She couldn't save herself from her trauma - she needed Cassian to help her get the drop on Gorst (and let's ignore how fucking improbable all that is for a moment, how does he even know where Gorst is???), and her happiness is fully dependent on Gorst living or dying. Her character does not EXIST without him this season. Why do we only ever see her take charge of her life to kill her abusers? The only other positive thing she's done for her life this whole season is to clean up the apartment, and she was doing that to *checks notes* hide her drug habit from her overprotective boyfriend. Feminism!! Please don't read this as an indictment of people struggling to cope with trauma, or substance abuse - I'm just so tired of everyone acting like this is such an uplifting, empowering narrative for this character, because I really, really, really don't see it.

Bringing up Maarva and Kerri as people Cassian failed to protect and nothing else is so telling. That's not even what happened! He was abducted as a child, he didn't abandon his sister, and what was he going to save Maarva from? Old age?? But that's their whole narrative purpose to the writers I guess...

Mothma: Well, I know the constant political downward trajectory is her whole thing, but we really spend the whole arc seeing her do nothing but failing to convince other politicians (mostly men) of anything and being made to look like a fool for even bothering. So far all we've given her this season is being too soft and emotional (which, by the way, is why it's a little odd to me they're pinning the same thing on Cassian - why do we need this narrative redundancy here?). And her one "big moment" (read: over thirty seconds of uninterrupted talking) she gets to have this arc is either a front for Kleya's and Luthen's business or a pointless and reckless lashing out at Krennic's overt imperialism and propaganda.

Dedra: Yeah, she's holding all the strings, but in a weird way, her whole narrative is dependent on Syril now, and I have a bad feeling this is all leading up to him being butthurt about being used. It's a great spy storyline, but just like Mothma's part, great as it is, in combo with the deeply uncool treatment of Bix, it starts to feel like an unfortunate pattern.

Cinta: I actually liked her scenes a lot! Especially the scene in the café - it had an interesting ambiguity, for a moment there I was wondering if Cinta was running Vel, getting back with her to keep her on track on someone's orders. I think I may be giving the script too much credit here, given how weirdly stilted the other two romances were handled this arc it might have rather been a case of "the writer really thinks lovers talk that way". But even if it was an accident, I think that would be an interesting feature in the show, because they're the one couple who genuinely seem to be compatible and on the same page about what they want! And I get that they were making a point to get her killed so uselessly, by friendly fire, on accident. But man, this show refuses to give a woman happiness, even for the span of a timeskip. Whenever any of the ladies seems happy or get something she wants for herself, you can already be sure she's about to die or have something incredibly heinous happen to her immediately after. And the execution of that scene pissed me off, because if that scuffle had even just been relocated to the tunnel entrance, I would have bought it. But no, they're in a really wide, mostly empty alleyway, the blaster was mostly pointed at a wall and trapped between the two men wrestling for it, and you don't even see anyone being close behind them, and yet Cinta not only manages to get hit but instantly killed - what are the fucking chances? And yes, it's a metaphor, but again, with the overall bad aftertaste, it feels targeted and cruel at this point. With how little we got to see of Cinta, it really made her death seem like an afterthought. Like Brasso, this could have packed a punch, but we knew so little about her and had seen her even less, so it just fell flat.

My only positives(ish):

Vel: Her character is really growing on me! She has such a nice, well-executed, subtle development compared to most other characters on this show. She's clearly learned from Aldhani, and she's learning from Mothma and Luthen, too, and her resentment at the life she's leading is so beautifully expressed by her last scene: The greatest punishment she can imagine is recruitment to her cause. Because that's what she's doing to this guy. Recruitment. This is on you forever, this is all your life is now, you owe me and everyone whatever you have to make up for this. That's so heartbreaking, and so real. Am I pissed that Vel is constantly and pointedly denied happiness at absolutely every turn? Yeah! But at least for her, it feels like there is a little more agency, because she chose this life, even though she clearly has options. For her, it feels a little more tragic and narratively weighty, and less like a pointless onslaught of misery.

Kleya: I love her so much. And I could (and should) point out that it feels a little shallow to have her be completely reduced to "being the only competent person among men who are losing their shit at all times". We know nothing else about her, other than that she is Girlboss(TM). But, unlike with Bix, we actually see her be outstandingly competent completely on her own merit all the time, and even though the script neglects her, too, there is an implication that she has actively and deliberately sacrificed the rest of herself to be this spymaster - instead of the writers simply forgetting to give her anything more. And I just think Elizabeth Dulau is KILLING IT. In a weird way, Kleya is giving me the power fantasy that most Star Wars gave to little boys. It's not exactly a win for feminism - it's yet another flavour of "women can either be competent and powerful OR express their emotions and be vulnerable with people" - but I do have a soft spot for her, and her moment at the exhibition was the tensest shit I've seen this whole season. Nothing more gripping so far than watching this woman attempt to turn a screw.

[theunluckycanuck]

messy

max verstappen & charles leclerc - wc: 2405

tags: smut/pwp, dom!charles, sub!max, collars & leashes, oral sex, praise (kink), degrading language, messy blowjobs, pure smut

Max had spent enough time in Charles' orbit, they were rivals after all. The need to out perform one another was an intense feeling fueled by cars, money and glory. But Max was always a few steps ahead of Charles, always better, and that simply couldn't stay the case in every way. The one way Charles had the upper hand was behind closed doors, in privacy where the four time world champion was nothing more than a dog to the fellow racer. Collared, leashed and eager to obey.

archive of our own link

This was no way a four time world champion should be seen. On his knees, blue eyes gazed at the man seated in front of him. He knew a long time ago that Charles was a kinky motherfucker, he knew that his long time rival had a lick of darkness that ran through him.

Everyone thought that he was the dear Prince of Ferrari. The predestined one, the one who would drive the team to new heights. Been a couple of years now and that hadn't happened. While Max wasn't the only one who plucked wins out of Charles' race after race - Max was the only one who Charles could take out all that aggression out on.

Because if Charles was a kinky motherfucker hellbent on punishment, then Max was the only who happily took it.

"Look at you." Charles' words swirled in Max's head, making it feel like it was full of cotton, "You look so good on your knees, under me." He smirked and leaned against the chair he was seated on. He admired the blond for a moment, "Don't know how something so dumb can win so much."

Max swallowed, he felt his pulse quicken. The way Charles spoke to him was something worth getting aroused over. His words in the accent he spoke in simply burned in the Dutch driver's stomach like hot honey.

This was Charles getting his aggression out, either that of he was going to dive bomb the other driver right off the track. If it wasn't a risk to Max's safety, he'd happily let Charles total his tractor of a car - maybe it'll force Horner to put the investments into a better one.

Charles noticed that Max was thinking, that wouldn't do. He curled the leash in his hand and yanked the other man closer. He smiled when Max choked a little from the force, "Quit thinking." He said, "Don't need to use your head tonight." He noticed that Max's already hard cock twitched. He smirked, "Dumb dog."

Max swallowed and leaned forward so Charles wasn't yanking on him so tightly. This wasn't pet play, it was collars and degradation. It was venomous words while Charles has Max tangled up in a leash.

Collared like the dog he was. The submissive animal that yielded to Charles, the one who should be collecting trophies and made racing look easy. Both knew that the dark-haired driver was always a few steps behind his long-time rival - Max was simply better.

"I should make you beg tonight, but I think you'd cum all over yourself before you had a chance to touch my cock. I bet you think about it, day and night. You're hungry for my cock more than you are for those wins. Bet I could make a pretty wife out of you. Finally get you out of my way, in Ferrari reds and settled on my cock for the rest of your life."

Max grew hotter, his cheeks flushed as Charles yanked him closer. He moved on his bare knees closer to the other man. There was a lustful haziness in his blue eyes, he ran his tongue across his plush bottom lip.

"Nothing to say, Max?"

Max exhaled deeply in an attempt to keep composure. It was nothing but empty heat in his head, driven by a need to get off or get Charles off. Everything felt needy for him. To be yanked on and degraded. Punished for being too good. He thrived on punishment better than praise, that was what made him the perfect driver.

"Come on." Charles said softly, "Use your words."

"I need you." Max said, unease in his voice.

Charles leaned forward and patted Max on his cheek, "What a good boy. Maybe next time you'll find the words to ask nicely. Instead of begging for scraps." He then rubbed his thumb across Max's bottom lip. The glimmer of his ring on that finger shined close to the soft pink of Max's lip. Charles then said, "I own you."

Max felt something tighten in his chest.

"Not the FIA, not RedBull, not Horner, not that bastard of a father. You're mine, all mine." Charles held Max by the jaw and by the leash. There was something in those green eyes that near hypnotized Max - made him want to give over total submission.

Max knelt there, naked on the carpet in front of a clothed Charles. A clearly visible sign of the Dutch driver's submission. When Charles pulled away to get his cock out of his black slacks, Max leaned forward to get closer. It seemed desperate for Charles.

His harsh words, his glimmer of praise, the anticipation of what was to come. He was an eager boy, needy for the other man and everything he could provide him. It was degrading, if anyone knew it would haunt him for the rest of his days.

There was a status quo he had to uphold while out on the track. The strength of the lion and the stubbornness of a bull. But when Charles got his hands on him, it melted quiet easily. Max would not kneel for anyone else, but for Charles it felt easy. Second nature to have the other driver get his cock out and for Max to wrap his lips around it.

Charles studied to the other man, one hand on his exposed cock and the other still on the leash. It was arousing to see such lust in the other's bright eyes. Blissed out and needy without even being properly touched.

"Quite the sight." He said, "I've trained you well. Maybe I should figure out how to collar you during press day. Walk around the track on Thursday knowing that I own you. You might have your team across your pretty chest. But I own that brain of yourself, that mouth that enchants the press, that cock I know that'll be hard with want for me."

Max leaned forward to get his mouth on the other's cock. But Charles stopped him with a firm hand on his jaw. He pushed Max back a little and the other looked at him like a wounded dog.

Charles' raised a brow, "Is this how we ask? You should be lucky that I let you suck my cock. Many would give anything for the chance, I made you better than some slut. Use your words, Max." There was a firmness to Charles' words that made Max's cock twitch.

It took the other man a moment before he asked with complete sincerity, "Can I suck your cock, please?"

And who was Charles to deny him that?

Another yank to the collar and Max's nose nearly collided with Charles' cock. But Max's reflexes were quicker and he was able to get his mouth wrapped around the other's cock. His blue eyes closed and he gripped on Charles' knees, but the other man was quick to put his hands to work.

"Touch yourself, Max. I'm not doing the work for you today. If you want to cum, you need to actually work for it. I know championships fall into your lap, but when I have you leashed - you're going to work for your keep."

Max's right hand went to his cock, using the pre-cum that had dripped down his length already to lube up his strokes. He groaned with Charles' cock in his mouth as he continued to suck the other man off.

Charles leaned back a little in the seat and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt. He had already rolled up the sleeves, knowing that the wrinkles left behind would never be ironed out. There was no need to get overheated too.

He softly sighed as he felt the pleasure course through his body. Max was something else, knew exactly how to suck cock now. He remembered years prior, the bright eyed and eager Max Verstappen couldn't even get Charles' cock all the way. Took years of training - years of having the blond choke on him so often.

Now, he deep throated like he knew how to his entire life. What a sight, Charles knew at the very least if he didn't win a championship - at least he'd have Max on his cock to ease the wound.

"Look at you, Max." Charles said, "Beautiful. Isn't that exactly what you are. We should leave F1 and start filming porn. People would pay a high price to watched a world champion's fall from grace. I bet people pray for it every time you grab a victory from me, from my team. Horner's superstar on his knees, choking on cock without a single thought in his head. How beautiful."

Max shuddered, his hand tightened around his cock, his pace quickened. He worked in time with his mouth, synchronized to bring both of them pleasure. He looked up at Charles for a moment, already he was losing it. He couldn't come back with anything witty if he tried.

Charles smirked and yanked on the leash a little tighter. Max's eyes rolled back a little and further devoted himself to Charles' thick cock in his mouth. He wasn't thinking about the team, the car, the races, the fans - nothing. Max's sole focus was on the man in front of him and the heft of his cock in his mouth.

The slick sounds of Max's hand around his aching cock, and the wet sounds of his mouth on Charles' cock only further the words from the other's mouth.

"Look at you. Nothing else to think about, right? You're a winner, but you're also my slut. Mine, right? All mine." His words edged with possessiveness, but the tone only aroused Max further.

Max moaned weakly in response.

Charles enjoyed the feeling of Max's mouth on his cock. He knew tha tthe other man was putting the work in. He was solely focused on a goal to make them both cum, Charles thought to give Max a little mercy for doing so good. But that would only bore Max in the end, once again, the driver didn't bloom under praise.

He bloomed under the harsh critique of his rival.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you? Every time I see you raise that trophy over your head, I want to throw you down on the podium and show the crowd exactly how you celebrate. I want to ruin you night after night. I want to point out every flaw in your driving. I know you love that, you sick boy."

Max groaned and leaned in further to Charles. His resolve was already in tatters, but he could feel the intensity of orgasm climb through his body, his cock twitched in his hand as he feverishly jerked himself off.

Charles let go of the leash to grasp the other's short dark blond hair. Max looked at him once more, his nose in Charles' dark pubic hair. There was a complete dumbness in Max's gaze, unfocused and muddled with erotic need. Charles' yanked on Max's hair and said, "Dumb thing. Only think about cars and cock. Maybe I should keep you thinking about one of those things."

Max whined, mouth still full of the other's cock. The pleasure thumped through him with his racing heart rate. He yearned for release, he needed to cum all over himself to prove to Charles that he was a good boy.

Many would pray for his fall from grace, the toppled champion. But he'd only let Charles sweep a victory from under him. He shuddered and felt the intensity of need for climax grow. He moaned against Charles' cock while the other man yanked on his hair, to get him to somehow go deeper.

He was deep-throating at that point, he could feel the blunt head against the back of his throat. His eyes closed once more and it didn't take much longer before the thrill of orgasm crossed through him. Intense lust, feverish need. All in Max's head before he tensed up and came all over his pale chest.

Max finished all over himself, but still kept his hand on his cock as he continued to pleasure Charles. He couldn't stop now, not when he knew that the other man was close as well. He breathed heavily through his nose, the slight air restriction amplified everything.

Everything felt alive in him, heated in a way that left him sweaty. He was still needy, insatiable in a way that he would never be for anyone else.

"Fuck, Max." Charles said through a tense jaw while he came down Max's throat. He held onto his hair tighter and finished in him. He curled forward into himself a little from the intensity of it all, but Max made sure to keep his cock in his mouth. A few spare swears came from his lips and when he finally relaxed he slumped against the chair.

They were both heated and sweaty.

Charles let go of the other's blond hair and rested both arms on the rests of the chair for a moment. He then pushed back his dark hair away from his sweaty forehead. He said in a softer tone, "Always a pleasure to fuck your throat Max."

Max leaned back on his heels and combed his fingers through sweaty hair. He swallowed a few times, tasting the salty after taste of cum in his mouth. He looked up at Charles and gave a lazy smile, "Of course." Then leaned forward to rest his cheek against Charles' thigh after the other man tucked his cock back into his pants.

Charles leaned back in the chair and played with Max's hair. He said softly, "You're a good driver, Max. And a good lover too." The bit of praise made Max perk up a little.

Even though the driver was formed under brutal conditions, bits of praise elated him. And when he looked up to Charles from his spot on the floor, the other man leaned forward and kissed him on his sweaty head.

"Thank you, Charles."

"Of course. But don't let that get to your head - I will beat you in the end."

Max turned his face to rub his nose into the fabric of the dark pants. He felt something stir in him, a gentle flutter in his chest - affection. He said, still out of breath, "Of course. Of course."ﻌ

[toranoya]

Inuyasha blinked slowly, watching Kari with an expression somewhere between patient and deeply thoughtful, the kind he didn’t often show unless something really hit him in the gut. He didn’t interrupt once—not when she called herself not smart, not when she started talking about the old man, and especially not when her voice got small and that faraway look crept into her eyes. He just stayed still, listening.

Only when she started to panic did he finally move.

“Oi—hey, hey, calm down, squirt.” He gently reached out and placed his hand on top of her head again, this time with a little more pressure. Not rough, but grounding. “You didn’t say anything wrong. And I ain’t gonna tell a soul. Promise.”

He could feel the shift in her aura—like something inside her was starting to spin up. He recognized that wild, shaky energy well. It was like his own, back when his heart would start racing and he didn’t know if he needed to fight or run or hide. So he knelt down a bit, leveling their gazes, voice lowering to that rare gentle grumble he only ever used when things really mattered.

“Let it out, it’s okay. You're not too much. Not for me.”

He gave her one small, reassuring shake of his head.

“You know… that old man? Sounds like he was a good one. Bet he cared about you a hell of a lot. I can tell, just from how you talk about him.” His voice faltered for a second, just for a second, but then he pushed on, his grip tightening slightly. “I know what it’s like, losin’ someone like that. Someone who actually gives a damn. Makes it hard to open back up again… You think, if you let anyone else in, they’re just gonna disappear too.”

He sighed. “Kari… I can’t promise nothin’ about tomorrow. I’d be a damn liar if I said bad things don’t happen. But what I can promise is this: I’m here right now. I ain’t leavin’. And if something ever did happen, you wouldn’t be alone again. Kagome, Shippo… hell, even Miroku and Sango—everyone would look out for you. We’re not gonna vanish just ‘cause things get hard.”

He let a silence hang for a second before adding, a little softer, “It’s okay to be scared. Means what you’re feeling is real. But don’t let that fear stop you from having good things again.”

Then, with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he ruffled her hair again. “Besides, if you do get too annoying, I’ll just toss you over my shoulder and carry you around upside-down until you shut up.”

[favouritefi]

Fitzier date interrupted when crozier sees a man who looks exactly like hickey even though hickey was taken by the tuunbaq and they essentially kidnap the guy “for everyone’s safety” but the guy insists he’s “Edward Clarke” and doesn’t know them, amnesia au?

[liquid-bonhomme]

. . . Gunna be a selfish attention whore here for a sec. Wanted to reblog this post anyway, because I want people to read this. But to add a tangent to it and make this all about me:

I made the decision to kinda put a bit more distance between myself and the """""Lily crit community"""" (cringe to call it that, but) for a few reasons.

But if you don't mind it if I get #real here for a second part of the reason was Courtney. I just . . . Needed some space from that, and I was starting to avoid looking at my own blog in fear I was going to see something that was going to make me feel a certain kind of way when I just didn't have the spoons for it.

It's deeply depressing for me, watching Courtney spiral like this. Her and I have a lot in common. We have too much in common.

It's hard for me to watch her be criticized (even though she 100% deserves it), it's even harder to watch her be mocked (which she doesn't.)

I'm not going to assume Courtney has relapsed. I'm not going to assume anything about her life. I've been actively trying to avoid any new Courtney spats because of the effect it has on me. But like . . . I have some guesses as to what might be going on. Guesses I'm of some confidence are correct, speaking from experience.

I feel like I'm watching my worst nightmare being realized by Courtney by proxy. Regressing back into that ugly, dark place. Getting bitter, mean, hysterical and paranoid again. Publically. Thousands of strangers watching as you crumble into that primal creature, reduced version of yourself. Lashing out in cataclysmically destructive agony. That deep, hideous rage and pain begotten from a wound too deep to ever properly heal-- and, you're just expected to LIVE WITH. Because what other fucking choice is there?

Really and truly I've started to have this panic festering in me again about what would happen if I ever relapsed. How further I could fuck up my life if I just-- couldn't handle it, and went nuclear again.

I understand so wholly and completely why Courtney chose to get involved with the Lily Crit community, chose to go public. Why she's now taken on the fool's errand of trying to desperately find some kind of closure by proxy in "pedohunting." Why, after years of being forced to live with the lie nothing that happened to her actually did, she's lashing out at even imagined forms of betrayal.

It hurts to hear especially that she asked Brit to keep her grounded and still couldn't keep herself in check. Couldn't swallow doing her best to trust again. It fucking stings man. I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to fully forgive myself for letting that same ugly pain inside me burn everyone around me. I don't know if I deserve forgiveness for some of it, to be frank. It's just awful. It's all so fucking awful.

But . . . For what it's worth. As someone who's been in the position Courtney is, I'm actually really impressed with how Brit has handled it. I think she's thread the needle of not taking it lying down (which, trust me, helps no one) while also being mindful and compassionate as to where this unacceptable behavior is coming from.

Honestly, I don't know if there's exactly a such thing as handling dealing with a person in a . . . Certain corrosive state of mind WELL, full stop. But Brit's demonstrated a lot of aptitude at least.

So there's a . . . Silver lining. Of sorts.

Good on you, Brit.

What happened that made Courtney so damn angry with you? Or is she just volatile and raging over a slight inconvenience

The inciting incident was her believing someone in her first server was mini-modding. I was a mod so I spoke to the accused and a witness to the situation, determined that the accused was setting a perfectly reasonable boundary ("I'm going to leave the call if this topic isn't dropped") and wasn't mini-modding in the slightest.

Courtney had appointed me and a few other people as mods not just for the people in her server, but also to keep her grounded. We were people she trusted to get second opinions from when her emotions started getting triggered. For whatever reason, that was the night she decided to dig her heels in and start a full on argument with me about it. Which escalated to the point where she tried to throw responsibility of the server she'd built on to me and said she'd delete it if I didn't take it. I have no desire, time, or mental bandwidth to deal with running a discord server, especially with all the RL shit I was dealing with at the time.

The thought of her throwing away the "safe space" she'd built for abuse victims upset me, so in the heat of the moment, I told her to "go be another one". Meaning yet another person who advertised themselves as safe only to turn around and throw it back in everyone's face. She took it to mean I was specifically comparing her to Lily and Poppy, essentially calling her a predator. I wasn't, and I even acknowledged that I understood how she came to that conclusion, but she refused to believe how I really meant it.

After the dust settled from that situation, we were civil with each other in public spaces for a while and I politely declined her offers for a dm conversation. Then she fully flipped on me after seeing me existing in the same space as a highly suspect individual. I had them blocked, I didn't interact with them, and there is no hard evidence of why they're a suspect individual. I was literally just existing in a public discord server they happened to be in. Courtney decided that because I wasn't starting a public fight every time that individual spoke, that meant I was "playing nice" and "paling around" with a potential predator. That's when she started calling me a pedo enabler.

She's hurled insults and rage at me on sight ever since.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

i've been trying to come out with between one and three posts a week, but i'm not sure if i'll be able to continue that pattern for a little while - work and life have me really burned out.

feel free to tag me in any fics, gifsets, art, etc, that don't spoil beyond 5x16, and i'd absolutely love to check it out! and for those who are familiar: is there a specific/conventional AO3 tag for "no spoilers past *insert episode or season here*"? because i'd love to dive into that

or go ahead and send in asks! i have anons off, but i can put them back on for a bit if anyone is interested and there are no hate blogs on the loose

but yeah, i might need a little time away from the writeups <3

[spiralling-voids]

i just finished my one week malevolent binge (or at least i'm pretty sure there's 52 episodes so far) and

thry make me so sick what the fuck (<- obsessed with the characters)

malevolent stop making me fucking sob over someone reciting a poem challenge (impossible)

kayne what the fuck

how is the podcast even supposed to go on. how does one survive being fuckigb dismembered alive. like even arthu, human cockroach that he is. i am in severe distress that has cycled back around to using all lowercase bc were pas tthe yelling stage

kayne WHAT THE FUCK

harlan guthrie i'm coming for your goddamn kneecaps how DARE you (<- emotionally devastated and deeply invested)

i fuckigb hate these horror podcas

[carnivallsarchive]

.

See the thing is. I know I'm good at writing. Like I have my weak areas or things I need to improve in, but it's not a skill I otherwise spend a lot of time feeling insecure about because a) if I don't believe in my writing literally who will b) if I want to publish my writing I ought to at least feel a resting level of good about it because editors and agents likely will not be cradling my face like a prize cat and telling me how talented I am while asking for their edits c) I've always had an audience for my writing even at its worst– I started sharing my original works online when I was around 16 & that really helped sell to me the idea of 'there will always be someone out there who likes what you do' d) untalented men never think this hard about the quality of their works and they always end up published anyway and e) I don't have many other thoroughly developed skills so why not have one I feel good about. Having said this. Awkward feeling to realize you're one of the authorial weak links in your postgraduate creative writing degree's social circle

[roboyomo]

about to go sleepyy but. Insane Kenix Thoughts (Again! An Another Time!) (How Many Fucking Times!— ^_^)

Something about Kenix comforting Sora the day she joined the sins crew while she was full on crying and confused at everything surrounding her. Something about him Resonating with a child's helplessness, offer a warm embrace to hold onto. Did you see your own past self in that girl? The days where you were left all alone in the dark, being able to only weep and wonder why everything around you was like this. Yet you had no one's shoulder to cry onto. You had no one by your side, and now you have decided to be that someone for an another lost kid. Have you seen your own desperation in that child, wanting to help her because deep down you know how scarring this situation is for her? To seek comfort despite the unknown environment, because you wanted someone to let you know it is safe?

Have you wanted to save someone from what you had to endure yourself because you just knew how deeply terrifying it must all be to experience such loneliness at a young age? Have you just wanted to not let someone else go through what you had to? Have you just wanted to show the lost child that compassion that you didn't get yourself when you needed it the most.

[lunadivino]

Dark Knight Diavolo as a concept would fuck so severely and that's definitely not my bias speaking sorry I keep thinking about it

[dbphantom]

you know if you guys voted for stretch armstrong i probably would have shut up a lot sooner tonight

[todayisafridaynight]

there's normal thought exercise questions to be had about fave charas like 'what would your fave do in X situation' or 'does your fave like Y why or why not' but the most important question to me i could ever answer about my faves is 'do they like shadow the hedgehog and is it purely ironic or do they have all 326 route titles memorized'

[byanyan]

byan getting angry, sometimes to the point of violence, when someone tries to diagnose them in any capacity.

[kindnessoverperfection]

wild how the more i'm working on recovery. the more i realize how fucking bad i miss her.

[arolesbianism]

I Really need to properly draw Christopher at some point but everytime I want to I just look at her in game sprite and weep for her truest form has already been achieved. What's even the point. This is her in the flesh.