#WHO THE FUCK DESIGNED THIS LEVEL THAT WAS FUCKING AWFUL

[bloodborne-on-pc]

Me: Murder is wrong, taking a human life is an extremely grave matter Me playing The Plutonia Experiment, MAP11(Hunted): Every rule has its exception

[darkstarcore]

One must imagine Agent 8 happy

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Sometimes I feel like us as the bat family fandom forget how starry eyed people get about Nightwing canonically.

Because with the exception of early era Tim most of the Batkids are like. lol that’s my loser older brother or some variation of yeah…he’s some guy I guess? He helps me with homework?

And Nightwing is the canonically a center of multiversal light.

When Heroes meet Nightwing they do the vigorous handshake and the “it’s an honor to meet you sir, I have heard so much about you oh my god”

There are so many character where they are literally shown giggling and kicking their feet whenever Nightwing talks to them.

Even the people who don’t have the celebrity level worship of him respect the hell out of him and call him as soon as they need help.

From raven to Starfire to Superman to Superboy to all or the flashes there is so much respect and awe given to this one dude.

And it is deserved

But imagine you are Damian Wayne and you’ve been working with what 90% of the people you’ve met (all bats) have been calling an embarrassment to your father’s legacy.

Your mother hates him and your Grandfather doesn’t feel that strongly about him.

The red hood calls him an embarrassment and a coward and he couldn’t even keep Red Robin from running away.

Your father tells him that he never should have been Batman

And you’ve worked with him and you know what you think everyone is full of shit about him and you and him the new Batman and Robin are the best no matter what anyone says.

And fuck it the fact he keeps going in a suit that everyone tells him he’s not good enough for is scratching something in your brain that you’re refusing to acknowledge because why would you feel that way? You are the circus freak have nothing in common (shut up)

And then you meet the justice league and all the extended teams.

And people are falling over themselves to listen to a word out of your brothers, your Batman’s mouth. They wait for a nod or headshake and dictate decades worth of planning on it.

Both Drake and Todd’s hero teams ask him for advice with or without their designated bats presence.

The man of steel asks for child rearing advice and wonder woman cracks a joke about a spar

Newer heroes whisper about him in the halls

He’s literally your favorite hero’s favorite hero

And it’s breaking Damian’s Brain

Because well… he kinda gets slapped around in Gotham. He’s the butt of half the jokes the other Batkids make and Dick just smiles and takes it.

The rogues have a bounty on nightwings ass and he gets leered at by goons, rogues, civilians and anti-hero’s alike and he doesn’t say anything.

He lets oracle crack jokes about a pretty face and having to do everything herself

Let’s Jason run the alley despite the fact that apparently he knows how to take it back

Apparently he’s had 12 people tailing Drake since Paris and despite being the man Ra’s Al Ghul calls detective has yet to notice. (Because you can’t tell me Dick was just magically at the right place to catch Tim falling to his death on coincidence)

And necessary to peace talks because he’s the best they have at deescalation

Like imagine you are a child who was raised to believe power is this obvious, all consuming thing. That the ones who control the board are visibly larger than life figures who fought their way to the top and cling to power by even the thinnest hangnail if they had to.

People who ignore simpler morals or an overall greater goal or good

And then you’re taken in by the man who whispers the correct answers into the larger than life figures ear.

Like I feel like that would have such an impact because Dick didn’t take power from anyone to reach his goals, it’s why his siblings don’t really defer to him unless in crisis.

Dick didn’t take power, no people just looked at him and decided he was the best option to give it to.

Everyone basically looked at this kid and went, yeah you’re the future of all heroism.

And if that dude can’t even get Bruce Wayne’s respect what chance does Damian Wayne have

[thebroccolination]

GMMTV ISN’T CONTRACTUALLY FORCING THEIR ACTORS INTO THE CLOSET

Recently, I saw a fan from the U.S. claiming on TikTok that GMMTV contractually forces their queer actors to keep their sexual identities a secret. Why else would there be so few openly queer actors???

So, first of all, it’s not like the few openly queer actors in GMMTV had to break some corporate closet door to escape, and then GMMTV went, “Aw, shucks. Well, I guess y’all win. We’ll keep paying you, you little rainbowy scamps.” There are only a few of them because being openly queer in Thailand’s media industry is still fucking hard.

Fluke Natouch of Until We Meet Again (and OhmFluke 1.0) fame left his agency years ago to work freelance so he could navigate his career on his own terms. When openly gay director New of Studio Wabi Sabi approached him to offer the role of Pharm, Fluke very actually asked New if he was sure he wanted an openly gay actor in his series. This was a conversation that two openly gay men had! No sexualities whatsoever were hidden in the having of this conversation! Or in the public recounting of it later!

Fluke asked New this because there are still roadblocks for openly queer actors, and as a freelancer, he knew this. Some sponsors are hesitant to have a queer face on their commercials, and some of the industry’s upper management are old bigoted guys holding the purse strings. Why do you think so many of these guys have to appear straight-presenting?

Interfans contribute to the glorification of heteronormativity, too. How many times have I seen interfans lusting over the KinnPorsche actors as “real men” or excusing Joss’s myriad issues over the years because he’s “so hot”?

How many femme actors are given roles with complexity? How many are shunted into comedic roles or tragic figures? How many interfans point at Pharm and complain that He Cries Too Much? You’ve all seen it. “P’DEEEEEAN.”

Regardless of what interfans claim to want, the series that tend to do best nowadays feature straight-presenting actors. Bad Buddy, 2gether, My School President, KinnPorsche, etc.

Ironically, the series that lean hard on queer themes tend not to do as well.

So you can see why most choose to keep at least a veneer of heterosexuality or else keep the glass closet door closed.

New cast Fluke and Cooheart in Until We Meet Again because Studio Wabi Sabi was both agency and production company owned by New, and New could do whatever he wanted. SWS was very much a safe haven for queer actors of all levels of openness.

And regardless of my complaints about New’s directing and perpetual insistence that he do all the editing and sound design himself (stop, man, I’m begging you, learn how to delegate), he has been working for years to create a welcoming space for queer actors in an industry that is still extremely cautious, and I’ll always respect him for that.

As much as people love to hate a corporate body, GMMTV’s myriad flaws are more based in the categories of “terrible organization” and “poor management” and “haphazardly throwing a thousand medicore, half-baked projects at a wall until one of them sticks by chance and then celebrating that surprise hit into the ground”—not “forcing their actors into the closet.”

As far as I’m aware, the only khuujin (“imaginary couple”) in the industry who’s Openly Dating is PorscheArm, and they were already out and together before the fame, so they’re more Public Figures Advocating for Social Progress than they are BL actors. I’d say ZeeNuNew are borderline, because while they seem increasingly more cavalier with their subtlety, even they’ve been excruciatingly careful in their labeling over the past few years. (“Are you a couple?” “You could call us that.”)

And there’s a reason for the caution. Things are changing for the better, but progress is slow.

In an early, post-SOTUS interview from 2016, infant actors KristSingto were point-blank asked by TV hosts if they’re “normal” with a heavy insinuation that they’d be mocked and laughed at unless they asserted their heterosexuality in front of a live audience. Not exactly a warm and kind environment to say, “Actually…” As the first in the line of fire, KristSingto were constantly bombarded with invasive questions and suspicion and homophobia, and it’s only been nine years since SOTUS aired.

Now, you’ve got the evolution of hosts making lewd innuendos at khuujin and trying to “trick” them into Coming Out for content. Yet, all the khuujin seem to know how to play the game Juuuust Right to avoid saying anything concrete and damning, leaving just enough crumbs for fans to pick up on and enjoy.

Because look how the few openly queer actors are treated. Bruce Sirikorn Kananurak’s best-known role is framed villain Aey in Lovely Writer, and Gun Korawit Boonsri is regularly cast as Sassy Gay Side Character. Cooheart gets variety in his roles, but he’s with Studio Wabi Sabi under New, an openly gay CEO who famously allows his actors a ton of freedom in their image. And it says a lot to me that Cooheart didn’t make the move over to GMMTV along with his colleagues last year.

So, y’know, of course I’m not saying GMMTV is paradise. While he was with SWS, Boun said he wanted to get tattoos but New advised him against it because it might have limited potential roles. So New didn’t forbid it, he just cautioned Boun against doing it. Meanwhile, he implied recently that he’d like to dye his hair blond again, but GMMTV has to approve things like that. Hence, you’ll hear about some GMMTV actors who just get a tattoo done or cut their hair without telling anyone and then they show up for work with an insouciant shrug; the beg forgiveness>>>ask permission move.

So GMMTV does have some stupid public image rules, and they have also discouraged certain actors from interacting with each other in case it drives their profit margins down (see: The Chronicles of Management Driving KristGun Apart—I’m making a post about it, don’t worry). And I’m sure the Grammy Powers That Be go ://// if a GMMTV actor says, “Hey, I’m thinking of telling the world I’m bisexual tomorrow,” and go, “Maybe don’t though.” It’s just not something they’re Contractually Obligated to hide; it’s more common sense.

Like I said, GMMTV’s real crimes in my eyes are things like 1) repeatedly trying to push men like Foei and Joss who’ve proven themselves to be toxic nightmares to women and queer people over and over throughout the years, 2) overworking their most popular actors to physical and mental exhaustion, 3) barely promoting their GL productions despite their obvious popularity, 4) shoving their Not Singers onstage with zero vocal training, 5) prioritizing trends over quality, 6) having Zero Plan of what to do Most of the Time, 7) hiring on more and more actors without hiring enough managers to support them, and more.

There’s no “you gotta be Heterosexual-Presenting or else” clause in their contracts. They’re just actors in a conservative Asian country where marriage equality has only recently been recognized, and that’s not even close to having social equality. Plenty of western actors don’t want the extra baggage of being Openly Queer (see the Kit Connor debacle), let alone in a country controlled by military and monarchy.

Thailand isn’t a queer paradise.

Hell, look at Japan: they invented BL and GL and their government isn’t even close to recognizing marriage equality. To the majority of Japanese people, BL and GL are embarrassing subgenres that “Normal People” (ie: what heterosexuals are called in Japan—yes I’m serious) would never publicly admit to enjoying. I know this because I was a Queer Foreigner in Japan for eleven years and my whole existence was weird.

As far as I’ve heard from friends who work with GMMTV, it’s a far more progressive company than many interfans give it credit for. Many of the staff are openly queer, a ton of their directors are openly queer, and their actors who are queer are either open with the understanding that there are limitations to that choice or closeted to protect their job opportunities. Once you’re Openly Queer, you’re pushed into a very different and much smaller box, and they all know it.

So y’know. GMMTV actors aren’t All Straight, and the ones who are queer aren’t Closeted by Force. GMMTV is just a company of people with a wide tapestry of nuance, just like you’d expect from any large organization of artistic and business folk producing queer media for a general audience.

In 2025, let’s please abandon the myth that GMMTV is an evil kpop company. <3

It’s a sloppy, poorly run nightmare factory. :D

EDIT: Also, director X confirmed on Twitter last year that GMMTV has no anti-dating policy.

[triplefrontierbabe]

Hiii, I would love some lando!smau with imagine inspired by 2hands by tate mcrae, oc could be the singer?

2 hands Lando Norris smau

imagine linked here

summary: you’re a world famous singer dating Lando Norris

pairing: f! singer reader x Lando Norris

warning: slightly suggestive content

disclaimer: all photos are from Instagram and/or Pinterest I take no credit for them

a/n: I’ve seen so many people do their takes on 2 hands so hopefully you babes enjoy!!!

yourusername

liked by lando, oliviarodrigo and 1, 793, 903 others

yourusername tour has sped by so fast 💫💓

view 1, 702 comments

yourdancer1 I don’t want it to endddd😩

↳ yourusername will the divas survive the end of tour😨

charli_xcx baby’s first world tour

addisonraee mommy

yourfan01 gonna need this tour imprinted in my brain asap

fanofyours0404 what are we supposed to do when this ends

internettroll65 who tf is buying tickets to listen to this mediocre music. she doesn’t even sing

↳ yndefender11 are you ill? she sings hella good and dances better than half of singers these days do

lando

liked by mclaren, yourdancer2 and 2, 893, 193 others

lando summer break around the world 🌍

view 1, 903 comments

mclaren out here doing side quests

maxfewtrell hmm what you taking a pic of there?

↳ lando the world may never know

danielricciardo lan wear a shirt correctly challenge, level impossible

↳ carlossainz55 🤣🤣🤣🤣

↳ lando damn 🥲

papayababyyy fuck he knows he’s hot

yourusername

liked by 01ynfan, ynhq and 1, 737 others

yourusername let em all know or whatever

view 992 comments

oliviarodrigo 🤤🤤🤤

larsenthompson so obsessed w you

ynhq let her cook🗣️

ryantedder or whatever 🤣

mclaren cute car

↳ papayagirlie04 help what does this mean

↳ princessofthepaddock what do they know that we don’t

ynfan09 mother back in the studioooo

ynluvr22 whose hands are those

↳ motorsportfan44 I’m starting to think Lando’s esp now that mclaren commented

lando

liked by yourusername, cota_official and 2, 703, 903 others

lando just having a look around

view 821 comments

texaslonghorns reppin bevo 🤘

mclaren switchin things up for the weekend!!

maxfewtrell man finally put a shirt on

lnfour btw the varsity jacket is on sale, this weekend only!👀

ln4babe he looks like such a frat boy but I fear it’s working 😩

l4ndofan4 is this not basically the same car in yn’s post??

↳ formulagirlie omg wait I think you’re right

yourusername

liked by sabrinacarpenter, lnfour and 1, 789, 993 others

yourusername buckle up, new music out next month ✨

view 2,883 comments

lando nice car

↳ yourusername thanks

↳ landoloverrr bro was early asf

ynhq I don’t think you guys are ready for this!!!

mclaren hmm fourth pic looks oddly familiar 🤔

ynfan001 my worlds are colliding eeeek

francisca.cgomes suddenly I’m free that day

↳ yourusername as you should be 🤭

yourdancer2 I’m satttt

sabrinacarpenter finalllllyyyyy

formulawagtea i swear if she’s dating Lando I’ll be so pissed

↳ pitstopbaby actually go touch some grass

lando

liked by danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 2, 780, 223 others

lando buckled up and ready to go

view 1, 999 comments

oscarpiastri 🤜🤛

mclaren our guys🧡

quadrant wishing for a win this wknd

martingarrix quick ab flex there

↳ lando thought i was slick

lnfour helmet design 🔛🔝

landobabeee okay are we all thinking it’s yn in that pic?

↳ waggossipf1 she’s been pretty quiet on social media lately… 👀

mclrnfan81 lando in his soft launch era

norrisfan01 can he fight????

↳ ynlover56 I was thinking the same 😭

yourusername

liked by ynhq, lilymhe and 2, 993, 783 others

yourusername 2 hands out now!!!!🧡💛 thx @/lando for the inspiration

view 2, 774 comments

ynhq available on all platforms!!!!!!!

lando happy to be of service

↳ yourusername 😽😽😽

heidiberger_ absolutely in awe of your talent

mclaren catch us listening to this on repeat

addisonraee actually ate and left no crumbs

ynfan11 asdfghjkl is this their hard launch?!!????

papayafan04810 the caption?????? omg?????

pietra.pilao hottest song ever 🔥

↳ yourusername yk it ;)

yourusername on Twitter

lando

liked by maxverstappen1, quadrant and 3, 783,221

lando hey siri play 2 hands 🎧

view 3, 803 comments

yourusername meant every word of the song btw

↳ landodiva04 oh I know she gets it every night

↳ papayaluvr idk who’s luckier, her or him

mclaren our champ❤️‍🔥

justaninchident16 so obsessed w this couple

oscarpiastri he’s had this song on repeat all day, no joke

lnfourfan if I were her I too would write a song just about his hands 🤤

F1 Masterlist | Indycar Masterlist

taglist: @bernelflo @ifyouaintfirstyourelastt @f1updates4you @r0nnsblog

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 30: Fame and Fortune

Words: 1000

Rating: T

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

CW: language

Summary: When rockstar Eddie and his actress wife go to buy a sports car, their salesman has a familiar face

@corrodedcoffinfest

Eddie didn’t think his life could get much better. He’s a Grammy Award winning rockstar in a band with his best friends, he’s married to you, a smoking hot Oscar Award winning actress, and you two have your dream life all planned out. Where you want to live, how many kids you want to have, and even what cars you want to drive.

Which leads you to a Ferrari dealership in Chicago. It’s not where you live, but if you happen to find a car you fall in love with, you have more than enough money to have it delivered to your home.

The two of you step into the pristine white building, Eddie’s hand held snugly in yours. A dealer makes his way out of the offices in the back to greet you, and you hear Eddie let out a surprised scoff. You turn your head to look at him in question, but he’s looking straight ahead at the shorter man approaching you.

“Well, long time no see,” Eddie says once the man is close enough.

The salesman looks cowed. There’s a pained pinch to his face, like Eddie is the last person he wants to see and this is the last place he wants to be.

“Welcome in,” the man says. He looks from your husband to you. “My name is Jason. What can I help you with today?”

Eddie’s hand falls from your own and he stretches his arm out and over your shoulders. A glance in his direction shows a satisfied smirk on his pretty face.

“The wife and I would like to purchase a new car. Thought we’d test drive some Ferrari’s and see if anything catches our attention.”

“Uh, sure,” Jason says, slipping his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “I’ll meet you outside and we’ll take a look at some cars?”

“Sounds good,” Eddie says.

He steers you towards the side door while Jason heads toward the offices.

The shit-eating grin on your husband’s face confuses you and the moment you step outside, you question him.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“That shrimp is one Jason Carver,” he says as you wander between cars.

It takes a moment for the name to click. You skid to a stop, causing Eddie’s arm to slip from your shoulders.

“That’s the guy who was such an asshole to you in high school?”

The shock on your face only adds to Eddie’s giddiness.

“That’s him.”

“Ugh,” you groan as you start to walk through the sea of Ferrari’s again.

“Aw, baby!” It’s Eddie’s turn to come to a halt. He grabs your hands and excitedly bounces on the balls of his feet. “Can we please, please, please act like douchey rich snobs? You’re an actress, think of it as an exercise.”

You can’t help but laugh. He drops your hands and you reach up to cup his face.

“Let’s fuck with the asshole,” you agree.

By the time Jason comes out to meet you, you and Eddie have narrowed it down to two different cars you’d like to test drive: a red Ferrari and a yellow one.

Eddie slips into the driver’s seat for the test drive of the red one. As soon as he pulls out onto the main road and lets it get up to speed, he prompts you for the first bit of fake snobbery.

“What do you think, sweetheart?”

A long-suffering sigh escapes your lips as you lean back in your seat, wearing the most bored facial expression that you can manage.

“Ferraris have a reputation for speed,” you say, “but they don’t have the same level of meticulous craftsmanship found in an Aston Martin.”

Eddie has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from laughing. This act is so in contrast to your true personality last night when you found a fun sized KitKat in the bottom of your purse and were excited about it for the rest of the day.

“Ferrari’s have a more aerodynamic design than Aston Martins, which allows them to have a more aggressive and efficient performance,” Jason says from the back seat.

You don’t bother with a response, only humming a small, uninterested “mm” before turning your head to gaze out the window.

When you arrive back at the dealership, it’s your turn to get behind the wheel of the yellow sports car and Eddie’s turn to come up with obnoxious things to say.

“It’s really minimalist in here, isn’t it?” Eddie asks, inspecting the dials and buttons built into the dashboard. “You wouldn’t even know it’s a Ferrari if you didn’t look at the emblem on the steering wheel.”

“And it doesn’t ride as smoothly as the Porsche I drove in my last movie,” you add.

“Was it a prop car?” Jason asks.

You let out an offended snort.

“Absolutely not. You think I can’t tell the difference?”

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant to imply,” Jason says apologetically.

It’s the closest you and Eddie come to bursting out laughing.

“Was that in the superhero movie, baby?” Eddie asks.

“Hmm? Oh no, I drove a Lamborghini in that one,” you brag. “Which also rode smoother than this.”

This time when you get back to the dealership, Jason can’t get out of the car fast enough. You and Eddie share an amused look as you trail behind him back towards the building. Something tells you that Jason is going to be getting a drink after work tonight.

“So, what did you really think, babe?” you ask Eddie quietly, slipping your arm around his waist.

“I actually really liked the red one,” he admits with a laugh. “I’d hate to give him commission on a sale, though.”

“Aww, Eds,” you coo. “But then you’ll be the bigger man.”

“True.” Eddie considers. “Eh, what the hell? Then I can also hold being the bigger person over himl.”

You can’t help but giggle. It’s not exactly what you meant, but you can hardly blame him.

[cerastes]

I can't stop thinking about Kristen, or some say, Kirsten's trap hole working on Saria, it's funny, sure, but it's deep in a sad way. It's a Zhuge Liang vs Sima Yi situation, the famous anecdote where Zhuge Liang had basically no one to defend a city against Sima Yi's sizeable army, but when he learned that it was Sima Yi that lead the army, he simply opened the doors and welcome them in. Sima Yi immediately looked at this and said Absolutely The Fuck Not, He's Got Irons On The Fires, Plans Upon Plans, and retreated. This was a bluff that would only work on Sima Yi, and only if Zhuge Liang would use it. It's such an obvious bluff, which any other general would call out, and no general in their right mind would use. But, because it was Zhuge Liang using it against Sima Yi, because of their shared story, Sima Yi got mind bamboozled into a "He knows I know, he knows I know he knows I know" bluescreen loop, because Sima Yi would never fall for such an obvious bluff, but it's Zhuge Liang using it, and Zhuge Liang KNOWS that Sima Yi would never fall for it, but then, that in itself could be a trap, but but but but but.

And so he left. He did not take his chances. It was a bluff that could only work on him, if used by exactly one person.

To me, the trap hole scene is kind of like this. Kristen knows Saria. Better than anyone else. To the point that she knew exactly where and when she'd say something, and when and how exactly she could catch her with the oldest trick in the Acme playbook. Saria. The woman who couldn't be stopped with the Kristen-designed Anti-Saria Wall, which possessed Screw Saria Particularly effects. You could hit Saria with a warhead and the warhead loses that one in all likelihood.

But Kristen doesn't need a wall or a warhead. Kristen knows Saria. Better than anyone else. She knows her so well, she can topple her with a flap on the floor.

And yeah that's hilarious and all, but also, so deeply sad, because it's basically an acknowledgement of just how much Kristen has paid attention, how well she knows her, how immensely knowledgeable Kristen is about Saria.

It's sad because Kristen does not care. She ultimately decided she doesn't value this. She knows. She observed. She lived the most beautiful moments of both of their lives together. And she decided it was worthless in the end, and that she didn't care. She saw all of this as nothing more than a weapon to make a trap door on the floor work. All of that.

This is what makes Kristen so immensely fascinating and chilling. It's not that she doesn't care in terms of ignoring the world around her. Oh, she's observing, alright, she knows exactly what and who surrounds her. She simply doesn't care even if she knows all of these things. She doesn't care. Kristen Wright simply does not care. A level well above not noticing: She knows and observes and is aware, she simply decided those things are worthless.

That is the next level of indifference. I like her so much, she is awful.

[weebsinstash]

He's not in the show yet but as a comic reader I've been thinking a lot about how ABSOLUTELY AWFUL it would be to be a human captive of the Viltrumites and, forget Mark, forget Nolan, those two would not even compare because THRAGG is the real mf you don't want to be yandere for you

I was sitting and thinking about it and like. Just. Imagine being in a relationship or platonic yandere situationship with the Grayson family and then, boom, the invasion happens. You're just a helpless little human and Nolan traps you away to keep you safe while everything you've ever known and loved is taken from you. By the time you're "let out" the Earth and most of its major cities have been all but razed and Viltrumites and their construction drones are EVERYWHERE, rebuilding what was broken, essentially erasing the history of humanity

You're now a "registered human" under the official Viltrumite occupation of Earth. You have to wear an identification badge that can be scanned to identify you, to designate which Viltrumite you belong to, like some cat with a collar tag, and it also tracks your location at all times. Humans have extremely limited rights, and Nolan and Mark heavily restrict which other humans you can interact with because the occupying forces don't want some kind of rebellion (mostly though Mark and Nolan just couldn't risk any dumb humans putting any silly ideas in your head and getting you hurt when this life is good for you after all :( and what if some nasty little rebel tried to kiss you--)

But I just. I just picture Reader being Nolan's mate and at some point, you're sitting in your completely Viltrum-constructed home with Viltrum robots and androids that cook and clean and do everything for you and completely take away all your usefulness and agency for yourself when, someone comes to visit. Another Viltrumite you recognize from the broadcasts on TV. All you understand is that he's Nolan's boss on some level or another, and he came to speak with Nolan, but since the man isn't here, all his questions are directed to you

Can you even imagine you're like sitting there already suicidal and in comes Thragg asking why you aren't pregnant yet, like literally wanting actual fucking details about why you haven't bore a single child despite being with Nolan for a few years. I'm talking complete dehumanization as Thragg is asking you TO YOUR FACE how often you're having sex with Nolan, which positions, what do you do in bed, acting like you're doing something wrong. He asks what you do after mating and you just kind of start to reply and he sort of smirks, "you can still walk afterward?" And he seems grossly smug about it, but, this is a very threatening conversation to you. You have a man who could reduce you to paste at any moment and completely take away any luxury or privilege you and Nolan have and he's asking you extremely intimate questions you have to answer through ground teeth and at some point I'm sure he starts on about, "your duty as a woman"

Nolan comes home completely unaware that Thragg has been there and you're still sobbing on your hands and knees as you literally scrub the spotless floors by hand because Thragg told you what a submissive little servant you're expected to be as a lowly human woman and Nolan is trying to comfort you and your hands and fingers are literally pruning from cleaner as you keep crying and refuse to stop "because it's not good enough, it's not good enough"

At some point Nolan and Thragg get into it. Nolan is sent off on some mission that he very slightly underperformed on, or maybe he actually made a really huge tactical error, and here's Thragg, deciding to punish Nolan by. Taking you. Just straight up taking you away from Nolan like you're some kind of privilege he has been allowed and YEAH it is to be a servant/mate for Thragg himself. And Nolan makes a big fuss about how he's one of the ones who helped even conquer this damn rock, how dare the Grand Regent take his mate, but Thragg doesn't care and even if other Viltrumites who serve under him disagree, as you know he rules with such an iron fist that none dare to speak up

Can you even imagine you were with Nolan for like 5 years overall with never so much as a pregnancy scare and Thragg has you for like two months and boom, you're pregnant, in fact you're INSANELY pregnant, you've got TWINS, and for you noncomic readers, Viltrumite DNA is literally so aggressive that twins are literally quite literally unheard of because they cannibalize in the womb or only the strongest lives so, now you've presented Thragg with these nice shiny new little trophies he can self aggrandize over. The first Viltrumite twins in the entire history of their culture, and they're Thragg's

(Something something "what if thragg was having birth control put in your food so you wouldn't become pregnant by Nolan before he could manufacture an excuse to take you for himself" something something)

I also think like. Thragg had the twins in the comics, Ursaal and Onaan, so like. What if he already had the twins when you're taken from Nolan and you give him TRIPLETS. Like. Jesus not only is your fate sealed, you're going in the goddamn Viltrum history books as some sort of magical womb the oh so virile Grand Regent Thragg managed to conquer for himself idk 🙄🙄🙄

But I think it's just the concept of. Such a monstrously violent and cold dude realizing he has uncontrollable feelings for you and they're like FEELINGS FEELINGS, but he literally doesn't know how to act so he's being. Like. Kind of just blatantly shitty and abusive most of the time. You give him any lip and he's got his hands on your throat and threatening you but internally he's like. Turned on by your spice. He wishes you were a Viltrumite so he could be rougher with you. You two have a rare argument where you get those oh so rarely seen guts to talk down to him and later that night he's putting you in your place underneath him fucking you like he's trying to get another brood of children out of you

Think of just the little ways he could show affection which is completely foreign to him and he like doesn't even realize his own behavior and is rationalizing it as something else. He sees you talking to Ursaal one day, combing her hair, telling her that she could potentially consider cutting her hair as males tend to grab it as a battle tactic and he feels a little warmth in his chest as Ursaal dutifully nods "Yes Mother" and Onaan is lurking around the corner, jealous. Thragg forces you to make public appearances with him and you learn how to temper your emotions better, and you'll be brought along to school functions for the children, like Thragg smirking internally as you scold Onaan that he lost a scheduled fight because he's arrogant and wasn't properly paying attention to his opponents

You're forcibly assimilated deeper into Viltrumite culture, but you're also humanizing the Viltrumites you interact with. Ursaal and Onaan realize that they deeply desire more affection and support as children and become fiercely protective of you because you actually treat them with kindness. Thragg can act indifferent to you at best but one day you realize that you have significantly more privileges as his mate than Nolan's and you march off to Thragg's place of work because maybe the twins wanted you to see where they work with their father and you're brought into Thragg's office and he's as stonefaced as ever while you're like. Surrounded by photos of yourself just all over the place. The one on his desk directly in front of him isn't even one of you smiling, it's you scowling with a glare and looking pissed and apparently that one is his favorite. And Thragg is like not even bothered by you seeing all these photos, and his kids are just completely nonchalant like this is all totally normal, "oh, Father, you had a memorial photo made from where you and Mother visited my school, I like this one--" as if these uh collages have been up for quite some time, some maybe even taken from security cameras from your time with Nolan--

I just picture like. Can you imagine the triplet scenario and you wind up giving Thragg Mark, Ursaal, and Onaan, and you bond more with Mark as a late bloomer and the one who is the most human and his siblings are getting monstrously jealous and Thragg doesn't want his legacy tied to a weak powerless Viltrumite, like this man would rather have Mark be dead than not have powers, and Thragg is trying to force you and Mark apart. Can you even conceive like, being a mom and you walk into the room and your son is being absolutely brutalized by his father who is convinced he is hiding his powers or something and you have to shield your own son from his father before he kills him. Could you EVEN IMAGINE Thragg going to throw Mark off of whatever cyberpunk skyscraper nightmare you're living in because he's convinced the panic will make his boy finally learn how to fly and you have to watch as he just drops your (favorite) child off the building and Mark ... never comes back up. Thragg just sees how absolutely devastated you are and convinces himself it's because you're emotional and weak and just casually, "we can make another" (although I imagine in this scenario Mark was saved by Nolan and the two train and eventually basically spearhead a rebellion against Thragg and his empire and rescue you and restore Earth, but, whatever lmao)

I feel like as a general thing, yandere Thragg would often indulge in and enjoy the fact you couldn't deny him sex, because even if you try to deny him, what are you gonna do, overpower him? So he uses it to assert control over you. You snap at him or mouth off, you're getting railed that night to remind you how powerless you are, that you're still his mate. You two have a nasty fight where you legitimately manage to wound his pride, you're getting fucked near unconscious and you're essentially "grounded" for the next few days if not weeks where you aren't allowed to leave your home (maaaaybe because you've managed to make him insecure that his little mate doesn't like him 👉👈 he can't have anyone else steal you away, not when you're making him feel all these powerful emotions he doesn't even know what to call)

You're not even aware of it but the surveillance systems in your home are being CONSTANTLY tuned into all the time, if not by him, then by his own children who are tasked with watching you. I also feel like having the kids on the mix kind of makes everything kind of grotesque. Like imagine you just wake up and you're going by your business one day and you walk into the room and Thragg has your like 5 year old toddlers gathered around a table with knives and weapons on it and you hear little Mark say, "all these things can hurt Mom?" "They can" "even though they're so soft?" "Only to Viltrumites like us" "Mother is really that... weak?" And you realize Thragg is turning your own children into weapons to use against you, watch you, report back to him, because... your kids aren't like you. They're Viltrumites like him and he'll be damned if you make them 'too soft'

But I imagine a day comes when he's forced to at least semi-confront these feelings. Ursaal and Onaan are dedicated little soldiers to him, but also seem to respect your authority as their mother, something Thragg also sometimes encourages (since your "rank" as their mother earns a certain degree of respect and he's trying to teach them to respect the chain of command, even if you are a soft human). Ursaal and Onaan take a mission to another planet with their father and they return and Onaan has a gift for you, an alien flower he thought you might like, something he took without telling his father, but. He doesn't realize there's something wrong with it, something that wouldnt bother a Viltrumite but would definitely harm a human. The second you touch the plant, the second some of its pollen touches your akin, enters your lungs, you start becoming ill, very, very, very ill.

Thragg is trying to tell himself you're just another mate to him, just another bearer of his many many many children that he has no emotional attachments to, but the second he receives word that you might ACTUALLY BE DYING like genuinely actually fucking dying, there's no hesitation. The next time you open your eyes, you're in a Viltrum-run hospital in a lavish sanitized room receiving ONLY the best of care as Thragg is sitting in a chair beside your bed staring directly at you as if he had been staring at your unconscious body perhaps the entire time you were asleep. There's almost a visible relaxation of his posture as you're able to hold a conversation with him, but, his voice is, lowered but firm as he tells you you have yet to fully recover, that you're in isolation to reduce the risk of foreign pathogens. He feels the need to tell you in detail how severely Onaan was beaten for almost costing you your life, almost as if he's seeking your approval, some sort of forgiveness. You ask him how long he's been sitting there and he just deflects and tells you you're still too weak to hold a conversation and to conserve your strength, that the two of you can speak later.

Once you've recovered, it doesn't even seem like he's that interested in sex anymore, but the notoriously sturdy Viltrumite is suddenly returning home much more often now, if only to hold you as you sleep in the marital bed you share with him....

I guess as one final, final suggestion, I can't get over like. Is there an upper limit on the whole "oh you had Viltrum DNA but it just didn't kick in yet" thing. Could you imagine like, once the Viltrum invasion has begun and you're "acquired" for either Nolan or Thragg or whomever, you're scanned or whatever by Viltrum tech and they're like "oh hey what up, Viltrumite DNA detected? Dope?" And maybe it could even be "weak" like from a grandparent or something but, it inevitably "kicks in" and now you have to confront all the new caveats this brings with you. You're expected to live as a Viltrumite now. Maybe Thragg seems to find you a little less pathetic and personally wants to train you himself because he doesn't want the most publicly visible and famous of his mates to be weak. Also just maybe he's glad he can have rougher sex with you. I can just imagine he's forcing you two to have some sort of spar amd you have some sort of natural aptitude or higher than average strength and you wind up really giving him at least ONE really good fucking punch to the face and he's wrestling you down, pinning you down and forcing a kiss onto you as the blood from his broken nose drips onto both of your faces, like

Yeah, anyways I have normal feelings about this series tee hee 😘

[txttletale]

Your discussions on AI art have been really interesting and changed my mind on it quite a bit, so thank you for that! I don’t think I’m interested in using it, but I feel much less threatened by it in the same way. That being said, I was wondering, how you felt about AI generated creative writing: not, like AI writing in the context of garbage listicles or academic essays, but like, people who generate short stories and then submit them to contests. Do you think it’s the same sort of situation as AI art? Do you think there’s a difference in ChatGPT vs mid journey? Legitimate curiosity here! I don’t quite have an opinion on this in the same way, and I’ve seen v little from folks about creative writing in particular vs generated academic essays/articles

i think that ai generated writing is also indisputably writing but it is mostly really really fucking awful writing for the same reason that most ai art is not good art -- that the large training sets and low 'temperature' of commercially available/mass market models mean that anything produced will be the most generic version of itself. i also think that narrative writing is very very poorly suited to LLM generation because it generally requires very basic internal logic which LLMs are famously bad at (i imagine you'd have similar problems trying to create something visual like a comic that requires consistent character or location design rather than the singular images that AI art is mostly used for). i think it's going to be a very long time before we see anything good long-form from an LLM, especially because it's just not a priority for the people making them.

ultimately though i think you could absolutely do some really cool stuff with AI generated text if you had a tighter training set and let it get a bit wild with it. i've really enjoyed a lot of AI writing for being funny, especially when it was being done with tools like botnik that involve more human curation but still have the ability to completely blindside you with choices -- i unironically think the botnik collegehumour sketch is funnier than anything human-written on the channel. & i think that means it could reliably be used, with similar levels of curation, to make some stuff that feels alien, or unsettling, or etheral, or horrifying, because those are somewhat adjacent to the surreal humour i think it excels at. i could absolutely see it being used in workflows -- one of my friends told me recently, essentially, "if i'm stuck with writer's block, i ask chatgpt what should happen next, it gives me a horrible idea, and i immediately think 'that's shit, and i can do much better' and start writing again" -- which is both very funny but i think presents a great use case as a 'rubber duck'.

but yea i think that if there's anything good to be found in AI-written fiction or poetry it's not going to come from chatGPT specifically, it's going to come from some locally hosted GPT model trained on a curated set of influences -- and will have to either be kind of incoherent or heavily curated into coherence.

that said the submission of AI-written stories to short story mags & such fucking blows -- not because it's "not writing" but because it's just bad writing that's very very easy to produce (as in, 'just tell chatGPT 'write a short story'-easy) -- which ofc isn't bad in and of itself but means that the already existing phenomenon of people cynically submitting awful garbage to literary mags that doesn't even meet the submission guidelines has been magnified immensely and editors are finding it hard to keep up. i think part of believing that generative writing and art are legitimate mediums is also believing they are and should be treated as though they are separate mediums -- i don't think that there's no skill in these disciplines (like, if someone managed to make writing with chatGPT that wasnt unreadably bad, i would be very fucking impressed!) but they're deeply different skills to the traditional artforms and so imo should be in general judged, presented, published etc. separately.

[queenshelby]

The Accident (Part Six)

Pairing: Reader & Cillian Murphy

Warning: Domestic Abuse, Religious Themes, Trafficking

Thank you @blondie-22 for this amazing idea!

Almost an hour later, Cillian pulled up to the curb of his townhouse in one of Dublin's sought-after neighborhoods. Sitting in the back of his car, with your two children, your heart pounding in sync with the rain that pattered against his windshield.

Cillian turned to Sarah, who clutched Mr. Cuddles tightly. "Do you want to come inside?" he asked politely and Sarah peered out the window, eyes wide as she took in the large home.

“Is that your house?" she asked, her voice a little shaken as she was still unsure what was going on. Even though Cillian made an effort to talk to her during the car journey, the unfamiliarity of it all left her fidgeting with her toy.

“It is,” Cillian replied, offering a reassuring smile. “It’s a safe place, and I promise you’ll be okay here.”

You held Mika close, swaying slightly as she cooed softly in your arms. The unfamiliar surroundings thrummed with tension, and a flicker of panic crept into your thoughts. You gave Cillian a grateful nod and stepped out into the gloom, the rain cooling the heat of anxiety that simmered just beneath the surface.

Cillian led the way up the stone path, glancing back occasionally to ensure you and Sarah followed.

Once you made it through the path, Cillian pulled out his key and unlocked the sturdy wooden door. It creaked as he pushed it open, revealing a spacious entryway bathed in soft light.

"I don't even know what to say," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you stepped inside, holding back tears. His home immediatly felt like a sanctuary, with soft hues that embraced you, offering a stark contrast to the chaos you had escaped.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. Just take a moment," Cillian responded as you crossed into the foyer, your shoes squeaking against the polished wood floor.

It felt alien, untouched by the chaos that had enveloped your recent life. Sunlight pierced through large windows, illuminating the tasteful decor—a far cry from the cluttered corners of your old life.

Sarah, still grasping Mr. Cuddles, stepped in tentatively, her eyes darting around the room, absorbing the sight of framed photographs and elegant furnishings.

"You have a big house," she muttered, a hint of awe creeping into her voice.

Cillian knelt down to her level, his blue eyes sparkling. "It's big enough for you and your mom to feel at home tonight, okay? And tomorrow we will figure out what to do," he said gently.

You shifted Mika in your arms, watching Cillian interact with Sarah, noting the way his soft demeanor seemed to put her at ease but, just as Sarah's mood shifted to one of contempt, an attractive but rather anngry looking woman came down the stairs.

Naomi, with her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, eyed the scene before her with a mix of surprise and irritation. Her green eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of you, the unexpected guests nestled in what was her home.

“You can't be fucking serious," Naomi’s voice dripped with disdain as she stepped further into the room, arms crossed tightly over her designer nightgiwn.

"Nom, please," Cillian pleaded, raising a hand in a gesture of truce. "It's not a big deal and it's just for tonight," he continued, his voice steady but strained.

Naomi's jaw clenched as she scanned the hallway, taking in you and the children. "You think dragging a stranger into our home is okay?" Her voice dripped with venom, and you could feel the tension coil in the air like a spring ready to snap.

"I am sorry, I should go. It wasn't my intention to intrude, Cillian," you blurted out, the words tumbling out in a rush as panic gripped you. “I didn’t want to cause any trouble.”

Cillian stepped closer, placing a firm hand on Sarah's shoulder who, by that point, was upset and started to cry. “It's fine," he rassured you before looking at Naomi again. “Just give them a chance, Nom. She needs—”

“Needs what? A place to crash?" Naomi interrupted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think letting a homeless woman with two kids, who just breezed in from who knows where, stay here, is a smart idea?" she went on to say and you could feel the sharpness of her words cut through the air like a blade. "She could be a thief or worse," Naomi finished with a sneer, her perfect features contorting into a mask of disdain as she took a deliberate step back.

Desperation washed over you. “I’m not a thief,” you sputtered , your voice shaking. “I just," you stammered. "I should leave. I am sorry. She is right, Cillian. You don't owe me anything. I just did not kno who else to call," you explained, trembeling as you held Mika closer, feeling her warmth against your body.

“The homeless shelter would have been a good idea," Naomi shot back, her cynicism slicing through your mounting anxiety. “But instead, you chose to bring your mess into our lives.”

Cillian's eyes burned with frustration. "Enough, Naomi!" he snapped, his voice rising above the tension that thickened the air as he approached her, wanting to talk in private.

He turned slightly, keeping his voice low but firm. "You need to understand what’s happening here. She has no residency card and her husband has been abusing her. Her kids need a safe place, just for tonight and you should know what it's like, don't you?" he asked his fiancee, referring to the fact that, her and her sister grew up in forster care, but Naomi's face hardened, the defenses in her eyes hardening like steel.

"That was different, Cillian. This isn’t a charity case. Bringing her in here complicates everything!" Noami argued.

"For a little while, yes. But so what?" Cillian stepped forward, his frustration bubbling to the surface, but his voice gentle. "Maybe we can help her find something more permanent. You don’t know what it’s like to live in fear every day.”

Naomi's expression hardened, disbelief etched across her features. “Cillian, if this is about your dead wife, then you need to go back to therapy rather than bringing home some strays," she snapped, crossing her arms tighter across her chest, her demeanor icy.

“Stop right there, Naomi,” Cillian shot back, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "Leanna's passing has nothing to do with this situation. This is about a woman and her children needing help. Nothing more and nothing less," Cillian stated firmly, his eyes boring into Naomi's, igniting the tension between them.

"Fine. One night," Naomi relented, though her tone dripped with contempt. “But you’re on your own. I want nothing to do with this. I am going to bed and you better make sure that she doesn't steal anything," Naomi hissed, her voice becoming a mere whisper as she stormed up the stairs, leaving an icy silence in her wake.

Cillian sighed heavily, frustration casting shadows across his features as he turned back to you and Sarah. "I'm sorry about that. She's... well, she’s a little set in her ways at times," Cillian said, a rueful smile touching his lips as he ran a hand through his hair. “But she is actually a kind person. She just does not trust strangers," he added, attempting to smooth over the awkwardness.

You nodded, unsure of how to respond, your stomach twisted with anxiety at the confrontation.

Cillian took a deep breath, shaking off the tension as he crouched down to Sarah’s level again. “Hey, look," he said, his voice warm and inviting, "I think I kept some toys from when my daughter was your ages. Do you want me to get them for you? You could play with them," Cillian offered, his voice lightening the tension that hung in the air.

“Really?” Sarah’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, a flicker of excitement pushing past the remnants of fear.

Cillian nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely! Just wait right here,” he said, standing up and heading toward a door leading to the basement. Sarah watched Cillian disappear into the basement, her small fingers twisting Mr. Cuddles as anticipation lit her face. You shifted your weight, still cradling Mika against you.

The house settled into a thoughtful silence, as if allowing the tension to breathe. The soft hum of the refrigerator filled the space, and the rain outside danced against the windows. You gazed at Sarah, wondering how much she truly understood. Her innocent demeanor inst softened the jagged edges of your anxiety, but a shadow flickered across your mind as the echo of bitter memories resurfaced.

Cillian eventually returned with a slightly dusty box under one arm.

“Here it is!” he announced, opening it to reveal a collection of colorful toys. Sarah gasped, her eyes lighting up as she spotted a bright red fire truck.

“Whoa! Can I really play with this?” Sarah asked, her voice bubbling with excitement as she reached out for the toy, her fingers trembling with eagerness.

“Of course!" Cillian grinned wide, his eyes sparkling with genuine delight as he handed her the fire truck. “It's all yours now,” he added, casting a glance toward you and then to Mika, who was cooing softly.

"How old is your daughter?" you asked, shifting your weight as you rocked Mika gently in your arms, your curiosity cutting through the anxious remnants of the previous confrontation.

“She’s almost seventeen now,” Cillian replied, warmth radiating from his voice. "She's at school camp though, probably getting into some mischief," he chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with affection.

“Seventeen?” you echoed, letting the reality swirl around in your mind. “She’s almost a grown-up then," you blurted out, realising the age difference between Cillian and yourself. He was in a very different stage of his life than you were.

"Time flies," Cillian agreed, his gaze drifting off as if he were momentarily lost in memories of his daughter.

"Are you divorced from her mother then? Because, the woman you are with, she is clearly too young to have a seventeen your old," you asked, a hint of curiosity flickering in your voice as you tilted your head slightly, observing the way his face changed at the mention of his wife.

"I am sorry. This was too direct wasn't it?" you murmured, embarrassment creeping into your voice.

Cillian shook his head, his expression softening. “No, it’s fine. My wife, Leanna... she passed away several years ago. It’s a part of my story, you know? She was a remarkable person," he explained and the warmth of his tone flickered with sadness, his gaze drifting as though he were trying to conjure up her presence.

You felt the heaviness of his words settle in the air, a solemn vibration amidst the chaos. “I’m really sorry,” you said, your voice softening. “I didn’t mean to bring that up."

Cillian managed a small smile, the corners of his mouth turning up despite the weight of the conversation. "It's alright. Talking about her helps keep her alive in my memory," he said, his gaze shifting back to you, the lightness returning to his eyes. "Besides, it helps to remind me of what matters in life,” Cillian said, his voice steadying as he refocused on you.

You nodded, understanding that loss could carve deep lines in one's heart; ones that often remained visible, shadowed in the quiet moments. You didn't dare to ask what happened to her and how she passed . Instead, you let the silence settle for a moment, absorbing the warmth of Cillian's kind presence and the chaos still swirling in your own mind.

As Sarah busied herself with the fire truck, crashing it into the wooden furniture and making engine sounds, the tension in the room began to ease. You watched her laugh, her innocence illuminating the room, if only temporarily.

"What about you? What is your story?" Cillian eventually asked as he led you to the kitchen, offering you some lemonade.

You accepted the glass, the coolness of the lemonade a stark contrast to the heat of the moment you’d just experienced. You paused, looking down at the drink as you struggled to find the words that could encapsulate the chaos of your life—the fear, the hurt, the relentless need for survival.

“I grew up in a small town,” you began, taking a deep breath. “Like a commune. Very religious," you explained to Cillian, the words steadying you as you spoke. “I was told what to wear, how to act—everything was planned out for me. And then there was an arranged marriage, which is how I ended up here. I was sixteen, and... I didn’t really have a choice. I had to get married and have children.” The words tumbled out, heavy and laden with the weight of buried memories.

Cillian leaned against the kitchen counter , arms crossed, listening intently. His expression shifted from curiosity to concern, the gravity of your words pulling him in deeper.

“Sixteen?” he echoed, disbelief etched in his features.

"Yes ," you confirmed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was just a child," barely allowing yourself to breathe as the truth tumbled from your lips.

"Fuck," Cillian murmured, his eyes darkening with empathy. “I am so sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever have to live their life like that."

You took a slow sip of the lemonade, the tartness biting against the backdrop of emotions swirling inside you. “I thought it would get better, you know?” you continued, your voice soft, yet steady. “I kept hoping that once I have a child, he would be kinder to me, that things would change. But they didn't. They only got worse.” The vulnerability felt raw as the memories washed over you, each one sharper than the last.

Cillian's expression darkened as he absorbed your words and, just as you spoke, his jaw clenched involuntarily. “No one deserves that,” he said firmly, a simmering anger flickering behind his blue eyes. "And you won't have to go back to him. I promise," he declared, his voice steady, like an anchor in the turbulent sea of your life.

You searched his eyes, desperate for the truth behind his words. “Why are you helping me when you don't even know me?" you asked again and Cillian leaned in slightly, sincerity radiating from his expression. “Like I said before, because it is the right thing to do. You’re a mother, and you deserve a chance at something better. It's as simple as that and I believe that showing some empathy can go a long way. Everyone has their battles, and I understand how important it is to find support when you’re at your lowest."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat tightening as emotions swir led through your chest, catching in your breath. “I don’t know what to say," you managed, your voice thick with gratitude. "You barely know me, yet you're offering so much.”

Cillian shrugged, a modest smile creeping across his lips. “Well, I can't ignore your situation when I have the means to help. I’ve lost too much myself to turn away from someone who needs it. Life’s too short to be selfish and, if I can make a difference, even a small one, I will.”

You held his gaze, absorbing the warmth in his voice, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a flicker of hope ignited within you.

“You make it sound so simple ,” you said, shaking your head slightly, your heart fluttering with the weight of possibility. “But life is far from simple. I feel like I’ve been drowning, and now maybe, for the first time, I can see a lifeline.”

Cillian nodded, his expression filled with understanding. “Drowning can feel inescapable, especially when you’re in survival mode.I have been there myself and it was actually Naomi, the woman you met before, who helped me see the light again after I lost Leanna. At first, it was like a band-aid, but it grew into something else I guess,” Cillian admitted, his gaze softening as he reflected on the past and, even though his relationship with Naomi was complicated, he was grateful for her prsence.

"Now, do you want me to show you to the guest room, so you can settle down?" Cillian finally asked, wanting to change the topic.

You nodded slowly, the weariness of the past few weeks crashing over you like a wave. Just the thought of settling into a space that felt safe, even if only for a moment, lightened the burden on your chest.

Cillian gestured toward the staircase, his demeanor shifting to one of gentle encouragement. “Follow me,” he said, leading you down a narrow hallway adorned with photographs of smiling faces and picturesque landscapes. Cillian's home sang with the echoes of laughter, the warmth of memories captured in time.

"Is this your wife?" you gestured toward a beautiful framed photograph hanging on the wall, your gaze lingering on the smiling woman beside Cillian in the picture, a woman you had seen before, on many occassions.

"Yes, that was Leanna," he said softly, stepping closer to the frame as if reconnecting with a part of his past.

"Oh my god, I have met her," you exclaimed, the realization crashing over you like a wave. “She was at the shelter when I ran away the first time. She... she helped me. I was eighteen and had an abortion. James didn't know. She was one of the clinic nurses who came to check on everyone at the shelter after the procedures. But then I couldn't stay there because I had no identification, so I never got to thank her," you confessed, your voice trembling as memories surged forward.

Cillian's eyes widened in surprise. "She worked at the clinic in Southbank," he said, disbelief and a hint of admiration mingling in his voice.

“She did and she was incredibly kind," you recalled, the memories flooding back with clarity.

Cillian turned to look at you, his expression a blend of shock and reverence. “You know, I didn’t realise that she reached out to anyone at the shelter. She often mentioned wanting to do something more after we moved here, but she focused so much on Nina and her commitments at the clinic," Cillian finished, his voice touched with a bittersweet fondness. "Anyway, let's get you settled in," he said, motioning for you to follow him down the hall as you noticed his eyes tearing up, a hint of nostalgia lingering in his gaze.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[lilithofpenandbook]

You know what, fuck Neville Longbottom.

He was NEVER supposed to be a sympathetic character! He's very clearly a character written to be made fun of for being ridiculous! Him being so scared of everything isn't an endearing character trait designed to evoke sympathy and understanding, it's a FLAW that's meant to make you wanna shake him and yell at him to get a fucking grip!

I grew up reading boarding school books, specifically the Enid Blyton ones, which I believe almost every single British child has read. The school stories are mostly traditionally girls' books, and they all have very similar character tropes and themes, some of which are shared with Harry Potter, which is a boarding school story. There's always at least one jokester, such as Alicia in Malory Towers. She's brilliant, intelligent, but she's rather unkind and thoughtless, and always pulls pranks, or rather tricks, on people, especially the one french teacher. She's exactly like Fred and George, practical jokers who are popular and well liked but not always very kind and don't always consider the outcome of their pranks. There's always an incredibly strict teacher the girls don't dare play funny with. In the third book there's this one teacher I cannot recall the name for, but she, I believe, is considered mean and strict and awful up until the end where it turns out she's actually got a good heart. She's not the level of pantomime meanness as Snape is, (perhaps because she's not a male teacher and also not teaching the kids something that could kill them all), but she's a similar trope.

Actually, Snape reminds of the teachers from the old Beano comic, overly strict and mean, but when you consider the shit those kids put them through you can kinda understand why. But ultimately, Snape is a classic children's trope: the mean strict teacher who actually deep inside would take care of the students.

Neville? He's ALSO a trope! The ridiculous coward!

Going back to Malory Towers, there's Mary-Lou. She's a very cowardly, nervous girl (and a sweetheart, but a scaredy cat nonetheless). And that's a FLAW. NOBODY SYMPATHISES WITH HER BECAUSE WHAT SHE'S AFRAID OF IS NOTHING TO BE AFRAID OF! They at best pity her because it's a miserable way to live, but they don't support her for it. There are multiple full plots where the aim is her having to do something scary to get her to shake off this cowardliness, at least one outright organised by another character in an attempt to show her she can be brave.

Scaredy Cat characters in British children's media, especially in these school stories, are never scaredy cats to be sympathised with. They're there as a sort of comedic relief or to make things interesting, and are often considered a nuisance, the way Neville is! In the first book there's a very classic "you need to learn to stand up for yourself" piece involving Neville. Which he does!

People seem to be projecting all sorts of trauma onto Neville. Especially regarding Snape. There seems to be, in this current time, an attitude that him being a coward is something other people need to be accommodating for, and that he's a victim, especially regarding Snape. Neville is not a victim. He's not supposed to be accommodated for, especially in the climate he's living in. He exists as a comic character, and clearly to be a bit ironic as he's a coward in the house of courage. But regardless, his cowardice is not the result of trauma no matter how much people project it onto him and blame Snape for it.

Neville's cowardice is a flaw. It makes him ridiculous. He's afraid of absolutely nothing important at all. He's afraid of a teacher? That's absolutely stupid! Everyone laughs at him. Even he's aware that this is something stupid to be afraid of. He's more afraid of his grandmother, to the point that he didn't mention her because he was that afraid of her being his boggart. It just happened Lupin used the grandma, unaware of the situation, as an idea of how to make the boggart look ridiculous. So it makes me mad that people use the boggart scene as proof that Snape traumatised Neville. Neville is not traumatised. He's just an idiot.

Yes, I've gone there and I'm staying there. He is an idiot. He's frightened of stupid things. He keeps fucking up basic potions, basic spells, everything, to the point that McGonagall forbade him from doing anything in front of the visiting schools because he's that bad at everything. Can he help it?

Yes. He can help it. Instead of being a coward and crying about it, he can just as easily be confident, own up to it, and be more bold in trying to be better. His cowardly nature is what makes people lose respect for him. Something that makes sense considering the setting of the story!

Neville's arc is him growing up and getting confidence by going through difficulties and rising to meet them, not by other people gently helping him through his nonsense (and it is nonsense). That's not how things work in the setting of Hogwarts at all. In the setting and culture of Hogwarts, there's no gentle helping, it's "pull yourself together!". That's exactly the attitude everyone gives Neville, from the students to the teachers.

Neville's cowardice is ridiculous. It's as much of a flaw as Draco's arrogance, Snape's unpleasantness, McGonagall's competitiveness, and so on. He is not meant to be babied for it, or called "traumatised", he's meant to be scolded and shaken until he gets some sense knocked into him.

Snape's approach to Neville is exactly what you'd expect in this context. Maybe another teacher would have less of an unpleasant attitude about it, but in the end they WILL lose patience with him because all he's doing is not learning and trying to make him learn the same thing everyone else learnt last week is going to waste everyone's time. It makes zero sense to spend time trying to get one child to understand a basic concept that everyone else understood ages ago instead of moving with the curriculum. Snape is naturally mad at Neville for messing up the clear instructions that are right there on the board. He's rightfully mad about it. He's rightfully mad that Neville won't learn. He's rightfully mad that Neville's putting them in danger. Yes, he's got an unpleasant attitude, but he's right to be mad. He's also right to use Trevor to make Neville learn. People make it seem like he wanted to poison Neville to upset him. No. He was raising the stakes for Neville so that the love Neville had for his toad would force Neville to get his act together! Which is exactly what I'd expect from a teacher in this context dealing with a student like Neville! Fuck that, that's exactly what I would have done if I'd have had to deal with this idiot for multiple years and he still fucks up the simplest and clearest instructions. If Snape wanted Trevor hurt, he simply wouldn't have restored Trevor to his original state and killed him.

And lastly, not every unpleasant experience is a traumatic experience. One single unpleasant teacher is not going to traumatise Neville or anyone else! It's just a part of life. What, do you want everyone to be nice and coddle these kids so when they leave the safety of Hogwarts they aren't equipped to deal with people who are unpleasant? People love to project and find trauma in every unpleasant situation (for fucks sake they say DUMBLEDORE traumatised Tom when in reality Tom's a sulky baby who's mad that Dumbledore did not fawn over him like everyone else and actually called out his shit) but not every unpleasant situation is a traumatic situation!

And you know what, fuck it but some people have to go through a traumatic event to learn a fucking lesson. Dudley abused his cousin. Being "traumatised", or rather punished for his actions by being turned into a pig is what he deserved/needed, and even then did that stop him tormenting Harry? No! Draco being turned into a ferret? Yes, traumatising, but he's also a bully who needed to be taken down a peg! Neville being "traumatised" by Snape? Good! It may kick the cowardice out of him and make him a bit more cautious about dangerous potions!

Trauma is Snape being bullied by the Marauders for no reason, being abused by his father. Trauma is Harry being abused by the Dursleys. Trauma is what Ginny went through in her first year. Trauma is Neville having to see his parents there but not there when visiting them.

Trauma is NOT dealing with an unpleasant teacher.

Especially when you look at the context of when Harry Potter was written and where Hogwarts is set.

And Neville's cowardice isn't cute or endearing or something to baby, it's a fucking flaw that needs to be dealt with sternly.

[polyamorousmood]

I feel like I'm inclined toward, not fully open relationships per se, but closed small group poly if that makes sense. But the thing is I'm still a virign in terms of penetrative sex and I can't see how someone in my situation can be with multiple people at once because how would I even choose which one to let fuck me first. Also, I'm a bi woman and have internalized the idea that my first time with a man has to happen before my first time with a woman because if it happened the other way around I'd be betraying the Sapphic community by straying for men. And on top of that I can't do no strings attached sex (on some level I'd argue no such thing truly exists, that the act itself comes with strings by design) or one night stands. I've tried, and it's never ended well even though I want to be able to be fun enough to be worth being with in a world where refusing early sexual contact gets me written off as incompatible by the vast majority of people outside who align with my core political and social values. So that brings another problem I need, if not a relationship, at least a very strong friendship and basis of trust and comfort to sleep with someone, which is also antithetical to the way things work in the real world past high school. And I can't fathom the thought of being penetrated by a circumcised penis due to past attempts being really awful and failing and being blamed for that failure and me not being willing to risk that ever happening again. In theory I'd blow a guy who was circumcised but I'm too afraid of being forced to go further than that so I'd rather not even be in any kind of sexual situation with them. And like I want to believe that there's some circumcised guy out there who would be willing to prove me wrong but I can't see that happening so despite living in a state where like 85% of the male population is circumcised and the majority that aren't being notably younger I find myself trying to look for a man with whom I a share core values, shared interests and mutual romantic and sexual attraction and who is uncircumcised and not so big that I can't imagine it not hurting and who is okay with not having sexual intercourse right away and who will provide a comfortable and good experience for my first time (setting aside the inherent awkwardness of a first time) and who will stick with me allowing me to learn from practice together rather than abandoning me for not being perfect in the bedroom from the get go as is so often expected once your past a certain age (I'm at an age where it's assumed you've had sex before so nobody bothers asking and I'm never sure when to bring it up) so that I can share that with him and then I plan to eventually ask to open things up. Initially just to pursue my feelings toward other women but after some time I would consider asking if it'd be okay for me to add other men to our polycule as well but the trouble is I can't seem to find the right first man. Any advice?

Yeah, so uh. Basically?

You made up most of those rules. You don't have to follow them.

I am sympathetic to the nature of trauma, and of anxieties. It is because of my sympathy that I think it is a bad idea to default to capitulating to them.

Put more plainly, you complicate your life unnecessarily by letting your worst thoughts dictate your actions.

Any one of these considerations would be reasonable enough. We all do this on ocassion, and we are right to do so! Not everything is worth the mental struggle of untangling. Having said that. You clearly have so many untangled thought patterns and habits that it's interfering significantly with your life which means it's time to roll up your sleeves and sit down with at least one of these wads of Christmas lights🎄🧶, metaphorically speaking.

I don't care which one you start with, but it seems to me the easiest would be your point about *checks notes📝* dating a man first so you aren't betraying saphics? Did I get that right?

If you'll allow me to be blunt, you already characterized this thought as a stupid one. So why are you still planning on following it❓️❓️ Sweetheart. You know this. You know that's a thought we think and go "well the medallion says that's stupid so we're not gonna do that" [<-reference you don't need to get]. But here you are, planning your whole life around it? What the fuck are we doing here, lady? Leave that shit on the side of the road where it belongs! Your honorable sanitation worker will dispose of that trash if you just leave it outside and ignore it long enough, my good bitch (affectionate).

You could work on the other stuff too. Trauma is a mess, and I respect due caution⚠️ with the dating world. But it is... just sad to me you're willing to write off 70% of men for a feature they cannot change. That's probably a lot more to unpack, and I am not qualified to give that intensive mental health advise. But, man, I would understand if a fella were a little hurt. 🫤

Massive pivot incoming

But I think you were posting asking for advice on how to get into relationship(s) like what you specified. And like, if you're not going to put some work into the above, then I suppose my advice would be to try to 🦄Unicorn🦄? If you're not in the know, that means (roughly) that you become the "third" for an established couple👫. I'm given to understand bisexuality women are very popular in this niche. It has its own pitfalls, but you wouldn't have to worry about the order if you were dating them both, for one. It also might help some of your anxiety around men to have a woman that's vouching for him. And like. Those that are seeking a relationship (and not just a casual sex) would, I assume, be willing to wait a bit without a whole lot of hullabaloo since they can still fuck each other in the meanwhile. 🤷‍♀️ It's good practice during these to discuss what sex would look like ahead of time anyway, so that would be a natural time to bring up... all of what you wrote. [EDIT: I don't think the matter of who to fuck first would be an issue. Sleep with the man first since you said that's what you want. They're not going to take offense, and if they are, they will be very upfront about it]

Aside from that, I think your only option would be to befriend a lot of men🧍‍♂️👨‍🦱👨🧍‍♂️👨‍🦳👨‍🍼, ask weirdly specific questions about their genitals🤔 until you find one that seems suitable, and start angling for a friends-to-lovers situation.

Or, oh here's a novel one, get you a guy who's into bandage🪢➰️ and tease/denial! Then you'll control everything sexually and he won't be bothered! Win-win! Have you tried FetLife? (Light-hearted... but only half joking)

Also, everyone's mileage will vary, but I have found men wanting a relationship with you are willing to sort through sexual stuff with you. I'd take the time to get to know someone first, make sure you're both a little invested. The ones who care about sexual stuff so much they'd "abandon" you... probably wasn't serious about the relationship (not to say a guy's never gotten serious after getting invested at least partially through sex).

whatever you decide to do, good luck out there, friend.🍀🍀

[vampiricstoryteller]

Safety Net

Im back yall, here’s a new Richette smut I’ve been working on. It took me a little bit to find a groove with this but I do like how it’s turned out. This a modern AU one. I love modern Annette and Richter. I hope yall enjoy! Thank you for reading!

Summary: Annette takes care of Richter after a grueling month of working with Juste

Read on A03 here

All mistakes are my own

Warnings: Explicit smut, AU, Modern AU, cursing, Juste is super OC but it’s for the greater plot

If there was one thing Richter hated, more than anything, it was the month long business trip his grandfather, Juste Belmont, went on every other year. Nothing came remotely close to being as awful as the time he had to spend with his mothers father. Not that time he broke his leg when he was eight and had to stay in bed for weeks. Not when, at fifteen, he’d had that severe allergic reaction to kiwis and ended up in the ER. And not at twenty two when his father died and he’d been handed the keys to a multi-million dollar company. None of those even held a candle to the dread that locked into his chest when he would get the notification on his phone from the European side of the business.

Because it meant that Juste came to the states to check in on business “across the pond”, he came to stay with Richter’s mum; make snarky comments about the food she cooked and use up all the laundry detergent while never replacing it. He came to terrorized the employees that idolized him and unfairly challenge the ones that didn’t. He came to make Richter’s life hell, especially during the work week where he would follow Richter around and question every decision the youngest Belmont made.

Didn’t matter what it was, when Richter made a decision his grandfather had comments about it. If Richter picked sushi for lunch, Juste questioned why not something a little less raw. If Richter chose paint color number 4834, Juste needed to know why he hadn’t gone with 4835 instead. When they sat down to discuss models designs and reference points that should be paid attention to, his grandfather could and usually would rebuke them all.

Every. Single. One.

It was fucking infuriating.

Richter’s been in charge of the company for three years now. Their stock has risen, they’re on track to have the highest grossing year ever in their history and he’s already been honored by the national board. He’s the youngest CEO in the entire Belmont line, and his grandfather couldn’t give two shits about any of it.

He just wants to give Richter migraines for an entire month.

If he could get away with it, Richter would strangle him. But his mother would never forgive him and jail would completely ruin the fashion sense he’s been so meticulously building. Not to mention, if he ends up in jail his girlfriend will break up with him. And there’s nothing in the world Richter fears more than losing her.

He’d been dating Annette for just over a year. Fourteen months to be exact. And they’d been some of the happiest months of Richter’s life.

Annette meant everything to him.

She cared about Richter on a level so deep that he often felt like he was having the perfect fever dream. Annette believed in him, she encouraged him to be different than the men who came before him, she challenged his inner integrity and she kissed him like there had never been any other man on her mind ever. He’s certainly not thought about any other woman since the day they met, she clears them all by a mile at least.

Richter loved Annette, she was it for him. He already knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Which is why two weeks before his grandfather is set to arrive, he sits Annette down and tries to explain that his grandfather is the destroyer of joy and if he sees that Richter is happy he will try to ruin it.

She’d laughed, hugging him comfortingly and said. “It’s only a month, Richter. We’ll make it through it.”

Then she crawled into his lap, kissing him as she promised even further, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Richter knows that.

And he knew she was right, they would make it through the month long visit from Juste; but would his sanity be the same when the old man finally boarded that 3pm flight six weeks from now?

He wasn’t so sure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once his grandfathers plane lands, the days immediately begin blending together. There is nothing that the old man won’t complain about. This time he even has one locked and loaded when he greets Richter at the car pick up line.

“You couldn’t have had one of those golf carts waiting to bring to you?” Juste grumbles, his long hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

“The walk is good for you after sitting on a plane for so long.” Richter replies evenly, picking up the older man’s suitcases and loading them into the trunk.

“Suddenly care about my health do you?” Juste asks, looking him over a few times as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

“No but mum does and me picking you up was her idea so,” Richter shrugs, closing the trunk and walking around to the driver side. “Come on, I’m trying to beat traffic.”

His grandfather doesn’t reply but he does get into the car, even going as far as rolling down the window.

“There’s something different about you, this time Richter.” The older man comments as the car pulls away from the curb. “You’ve got a pep in your step.”

He grunts in reply, refusing to give his grandfather any kind of information to take and run with. As they merge into traffic, Richter sends up a slightly prayer to the spirit world for his ancestors to give him strength to deal with their own bloodline.

By the second week of his grandfather’s visit, their conversation that morning he arrived seems like it happened years ago. To think that it’s only been fourteen days since then makes Richter want to vomit. There’s been a never ending stream of steady stress since the old man lit that cigarette and told Richter that he seemed different.

Juste had been relentless in his pursuit of what exactly had changed Richter since last they saw each other. He keeps Richter at the office longer and longer every day, wanting to go over things six or seven times even though they come out perfect the first three. He demands Richter meet him earlier and earlier, calling him until he answers and drags himself out of bed; away from Annette. Which was crushing Richter’s soul little bit by little bit each time.

It eventually gets to the point where Richter isn’t even sure what day it is anymore. He remembers sometimes when people greet him in the mornings, but the more time he spends with Juste the more people around them avoid them. Even in the building cafeteria, if Richter and Juste enter it, by the time they’ve gotten their plates, everyone else is gone.

Isolation is one Juste’s favorite ways to pick people apart, Richter’s known this since he was a child but this time around; the loneliness eats away at his heart. Being away from Annette for days at a time and then only seeing her when she’s curled around his pillow asleep makes Richter feel invisible.

They text, which isnt the same but it’s something and Richter desperately clings to any kind of normalcy he can find. Annette constantly sends little “I love you, be strong” messages throughout the day and each one wraps around Richter’s heart in a short of protective shield. She sends lunch to his office almost daily, orders his favorite snacks and tucks them into his suit jacket pockets days in advance so they can be a tiny surprise to brighten his day; and often leaves dinner waiting for him in a microwaveable container for when he gets home at those god awful times past midnight. He would be lost without her and Richter has never been more aware of it than he is now. She is a saint, she is heaven sent and when Richter can have a thought that doesn’t trace back to his damn grandfather again, he is going to dedicate a lot of his time to giving her the world.

Annette’s genuine love and care for him is the only thing keeping Richter from jumping off the roof and flipping Juste the bird on the way down. He cares too much about her to leave her, especially not when she’s sticking by him through his.

Richter just has to grit his teeth and bare it, for two more weeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the day finally— finally —comes, it starts raining in the morning and doesn’t stop. Effectively delaying Juste’s flight hours into the night. What originally was a 3pm flight shifts to a 6pm one, then 8pm, and finally 10pm. They’ve just finished eating a late dinner when Juste’s phone gets another notification and Richter fears he’s going rip his own hair out from frustration based insanity if his grandfather tells him the flights been canceled.

But thankfully Juste looks up and instead tells him his flight will be boarding soon so it’s time to leave. Richter throws away his half eaten burger that he hadn’t really wanted anyway and tries to stay level with the speed limit as he all but races towards the airport.

His chest is tight the entire way, the uncomfortable prickle of tears in the back of his throat makes Richter want to scream. Even as an adult, running a million dollar company, he still crumbled under the pressure of his family name. Logically, he knows the expectations are bullshit and that if he would ignore them the way his mother and Tera managed to so eloquently do he would be much happier. But his mother and Tera had to go all the way across the ocean to “ignore” the expectations that Juste and his father before him rained down on them. Richter would be damned to hell before he let an old man chase him away from the life he had here in the name of “tough love”. He wouldn’t allow it.

As he turns into the drop off land of the airport and shuffles into the long car line, Richter bites the inside of his cheek until it bleeds to stop the tears. He won’t give Juste the satisfaction. He refuses.

“You do good work here, Richter.”

His grandfather’s words bring all ten thousand of his thoughts to a screeching halt and Richter nearly slams on the breaks.

“What?” He snaps his gaze over to the man in his passenger seat.

“Your building runs like a well oiled machine, much better than two years ago when I was here.” Juste says casually. “This girl you’re hiding from me—.”

“I’m protecting my—.”

“This girl you’re hiding from me is very good for you, I hope she’s here to stay.” Juste says firmly.

When the next spot opens, Richter pulls in and throws on the hazard lights, unbuckling his seat belt.

“You don’t need to meet her.” He states trying to keep the threat out of his tone.

Juste chuckles, taking his time to gather his carryon, phone and wrapped lunch Richter’s mother made him. “You’re right. I don’t. Keep up the good work Richter, see you in two years.”

His grandfather is out of his truck and around at the trunk to get his suitcases before Richter can think of anything to say. The migraine behind his eyes is almost unbearable now and he can’t even begin to try to have coherent thoughts beyond getting home. Once his grandfather disappears inside the busy airport, Richter pulls away from the curb and doesn’t look back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He unlocks the apartment door with a shaky hand at 2:27am. He’d nearly fallen over in the elevator and he was pretty sure the next time he could think he would embarrassed by how badly he parked his truck down in the building garage. But that was a problem for later, Richter didn’t give one flying shit about anything other than taking off his clothes and crawling into bed with—

He pushes open the door expecting to be greeted by darkness. Instead, the soft hum of the tv and the gentle glow of the color background lights are waiting him. Annette is sitting on the couch, in a pair of blue panties and a black tank top with her legs crossed and her Switch in her lap. The soft hyper sounds of Mario Kart jingle in Richter’s inner ear but his brain can’t make heads or tails of the sight before him. Annette is awake, for the first time in a month Richter is finally able to bring himself back to her. He has made it out of the iron claw grip labeled family, he can breathe again and just be with her.

She looks up, her beautiful brown doe eyes lighting up the second she sees him.

“Richter!”

She unfolds her legs, placing her game on the couch and practically leaps towards him. He catches her, he always will no matter how tired or mentally exhausted he is; and the warmth of Annette’s body against him sends shocking waves of emotion through his entire being.

Richter folds around her, wrapping his arms tightly around her frame and holding her to him; his face seeking out her neck. She hugs him back, just as tightly and just as fiercely, her small finger tips gripping his shoulder blades. He squeezes his eyes shut, breath shuddering a bit when tears wet his eyelashes.

“Oh Richter.” Annette soothes softly. “It’s okay, it’s over.”

Richter nods, he kisses her neck before pulling back slightly. “I just didn’t expect you to be waiting up.” He says trying to smile. “I missed you.”

She smiles, reaching up and smoothing her thumbs over his eyebrows; pressing away the frown he didn’t know was there.

“I missed you too.”

They pull apart, only so she can close the door and Richter can shed his jacket and shoes.

“Are you hungry?” Annette asks.

“No, later. I just want out of these clothes, maybe a shower and sleep.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, pulling his eyebrows back down into the frown she just tried to rid him of.

“Come on then, plan A it is.” Annette says gently. She turns the tv off before taking his hand and leading towards the bathroom.

Upon entering, Richter blinks twice and looks around in surprise. Annette’s lit several candles, strategically placing them around the large bath tub he’d specifically had installed at her request five months ago. It was deep enough that they could comfortably sit and bathe together without feeling cramped. Richter had been skeptical at first but baths with Annette were soon high on his list of favorite things to do with her.

It was exactly what he needed right now and warmth spreads through his entire body when she turns on the hot water, plugs the tug and starts to add a combination of their favorite oils. She smiles prettily at him when he doesn’t immediately begin moving, his brain still sluggish despite the tiny flames of energy he felt finally being around her again.

“Take some ibuprofen. Brush your teeth. Take off the rest of your clothes. I’ll keep an eye on the water.” She says, already seated on the lip of tub.

Richter salutes her lazily, happy to hear her chuckle in amusement at him. It feels like it’s been years since he’s heard her laugh. He does as she requested of him, taking the pain pills, brushing his teeth, sneaking in a quick piss then taking off all of his clothes and stuffing them into the bathroom hamper.

When he returns to the side of the tub, Annette has turned off the water and slid down into the tub at the end where the curve of the bottom doubles as a seat.

“Come on.” She grins up at him.

Richter raises an eyebrow. Normally, he would be the one sitting there and Annette would sit either on his lap or between his legs if he was helping her wash her hair. He wasn’t sure they’d ever traded places in this way before.

“I might crush you.” He says rather lamely but Annette only rolls her eyes.

“I’m not a doll, Richter, you of all people should know that.” She smirks then splashes the water a bit. “Come on, don’t waste all this heat.”

Richter chuckles and climbs into the tub slowly, so not to slosh the water over the sides. He settles between her dark, pretty legs; leaning back against her chest her while her slim hand reaches around and presses on his sternum.

“Just relax Richter, it’s been a long month for you.” She says, kissing the shell of his ear and making him groan.

The water smells like honeysuckle, lavender and just the barest hints of cucumbers, the heat of it already turning his pale skin red as steam rises in slow waves all around them.

“Thank you,” Richter says, feeling his body sinking into the water. “For your patience and the lunches and the notes and the texts, all of it.”

Annette wraps her arms around his neck, her nose pressed into his hair behind his ear and she grins when he shivers.

“I love you Richter, I knew we’d make it through this. We just had to be patient, the time was going to pass no matter what. What would I have gained by making it difficult?”

He chuckles, gently grabbing her hands and bringing them to his lips so he can kiss the soft skin.

“I love you too Annette, I’m so glad that you let me.” He murmurs against her fingers.

They sit together for several long minutes, soaking in the heat and basking in each other’s presence. She washes his hair, fingers massaging his scalp and his temples. Her fingers are like magic, finding just the right pressure points to alleviate the throb in his head every so slightly. He’s pretty sure he lets out a pathetic moan or two that he’s grateful Annette’s nice enough to ignore.

Her fingers work their way from his scalp to the back of his neck, over his shoulders and biceps then back round to his chest. Richter watched her small hand, fingers spread wide across the broad plains of his pecs and he bites his bottom lip when she starts to slowly massage her way down.

“Annette.” He murmurs, eyes fluttering when her fingers dances along the lines of his stomach. She traces out his abs, teasing him as she playfully dips lower only to drag her fingers back up.

She giggles when his hips rock up a few times to try and bump her fingers against his half hard cock.

“Be patient Richter.” She whispers kissing his ear. “Relax and enjoy it.”

He closes his eyes, soft colors dancing behind the lids in the same patterns that Annette’s fingers are drawing on his skin. Breathing deep through his nose, Richter lets the last of his muscles relax completely. Annette seems ready for it, she never falters in her ministrations; instead she finally dips her right hand completely down and wraps her fingers around him.

The whimper that escapes Richter is pathetic. He knows it. But he doesn’t care. He’s had no time to himself for a month, he’s had this migraine for a month, his brain has been running twenty four hours a day for the last month. He’s allowed to be pathetic right now.

And it’s not like Annette would ever judge him for the sounds she’s able to pull out of him. She lives for them, and Richter lives for the things she’s willing to do to hear them. It’s a win win situation for both of them.

She licks the shell of his ear, twists her hand around his cock twice and Richter’s mind goes blissfully blank. His breath hitches, hands fisting and his teeth dig into his bottom lip.

“A-Annette…”

“Does that feel good, Richter?” She asks softly, her breath tickling his ear in a way that makes his spine tingle. She swipes her thumb over the tip, smearing the precum around the plump head.

“Fucking yes —Annette.”

She digs the nails of her hand still on his chest into his skin, making him hiss through his clenched jaw. His hips start meeting her hand with every stroke, fucking up into her tiny fist with thinly veiled desperation.

“Richter.” Annette sighs softly,

His forces his eyes open, looking down at her pretty dark hand squeezing and jerking his weeping, hard cock. The contrast between them starts to curl Richter’s toes and his back arches when Annette opens her hand leaving just her thumb and index finger nestled under the pink engorged head, twists her hand again and Richter sees stars.

He shouts, he know he does and one of his hands grips her calf hard enough to leave deep bruises but Annette continues to stroke him as a thick stream of cum bursts from him. She kisses at his ear, biting at the shell and pinching the lobe between her teeth.

Richter thinks for a moment that he’s going to pass out and drag them both under the water.

The feeling passes, only because Annette is there to help him come down slowly. She massages his hips, gently pinches at his sides and whispers playfully in his ear until he’s able to open his eyes again.

“I…I love you—so much, Annette.” He mumbles.

“Good,” she says kissing his cheek. “Cause I feel the same way about you.”

He chuckles tiredly, a yawn sneaking out of his mouth. Annette pats his stomach,

“Come on; let’s get you into bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They end up cuddled together under the sheets. Richter tucking Annette close to him, his arms holding her tight like she’s his lifeline. And at this point he’s pretty sure she’s is.

“I want to go on vacation.” He mumbles, his face buried in neck. “Like, tomorrow.”

Annette laughs softly, her fingers intertwining with his that are spread across her stomach.

“Sleep first,” she all but demands. “Then we can talk, over breakfast.”

Richter smiles against her skin, she had know idea how excited he was to be back able to make promises of conversation and meals together.

He would never let himself be to too tied up to do so regularly again.

The End…

Thanks so much for reading y’all! I hope you liked it!

Evie 🤟🏾

[velvetvexations]

I understand the instinct behind it to a degree but it really does worry me how fast people in progressive spaces are willing to buy into conspiracy level thinking about there being shadowy groups of transphobes plotting to freeze other trans people out or like, that every big news story or movie/tv/book release is planned to distract us from Sudan or Gaza, cuz like quite often things are just coincidences? The most insidious thing about systemic oppression is that it's so self-sufficient it doesn't NEED people to conspire to fuck over xyz demographic, it just does that on it's own. The instant you buy in to conspiratorial thinking you're in danger, and that includes painting a large group of queer creators as active, intentional transmisognists who should be shunned forever and ignoring the realistic read which is that it's clearly an unfortunate coincidence that can be fixed! It's the whole "if the building was designed to be inaccessible even if everyone working there loves disabled people the building is still inaccessible" thing, for a lot of reasons not a lot of trans and queer people end up even in the line to possibly be front and center in a show or two, and Dropout is clearly working to change that and include queer people, but it's slow going and the system is stacked against trans people and no one is perfect and Dropout is also still a VERY small company all things considered trying to build themselves up from almost nothing, they need support so they can offer space to more trans people and transfems! Like what good does spreading a bullshit rumor about the main cast all being closet raging transmisognists do aside from tear down one of the only queer platforms we have??

When College Humor got bought by Sam they could only afford like ONE employee, do we want to have to wait years and years and years for another new platform to arise that has the money and power to represent us?? I'd rather uplift and push to be better a platform that is run by queer people who want to do better for all of us even if they don't always succeeded than sit here begging Disney to acknowledge that we exist while spreading horrid rumors about every legit queer creator who wants to platform us secretly being a huge bigot in disguise.

It's so awful, I hate how every time someone works their ass off to make a fucking difference for queer people all the terminally online progressive queers have to rip them to shreds for not being 100% perfect in every way until we have nothing but sanitized corporate overlords who don't think we deserve to be on screen at all. Every progressive queer creator gets put through this eventually and I'm so sick of it. The Vlogbrothers, The McElroy Family, Nightvale Presents, She-ra, Steven Universe, Chappell Roan, Becky Albertalli, it KEEPS happening!! And we will never get anywhere if the slightest misstep or honest unfortunate coincidence is enough to deem the only people who are trying to represent us, many of which ARE us, as irredeemable bigots who should be crucified in the town square.

Imo this is just a massive case of people always falling for conspiratorial thinking out of a refusal to actually understand how systemic bigotry works in favor of the "everyone is always secretly intentionally conspiring against us" lie and refusing to give queer creators/allies ANY grace or room for error or the benefit of the doubt because like. I guess destroying other queer people and our allies is what some of us do best. The fact that it's only ever queer people and allies who get this treatment makes me sick. We can't let ourselves have anything, it's perfect or it's evil. What the fuck is even the point of queer rep anymore if all of it is going to get treated like this eventually?

.

[rinamars]

im so sorry im waiting to eat lunch and you asked about rut and i am HUNGRY.

i have many thoughts about rut. the first of which is that it would look delicious on a man like erwin. he constructs himself at all times to appear controlled and level-headed; he does not succumb to desire, desire succumbs to him, and he leans into it with an almost blasé ‘well i’m just doing this to get rid of the inconvenience’. that being said, when he does go into rut, he deals with it efficiently, almost medicinally. he’s discreet. never the same person twice, and never people at all, if he can help it.

that is, until his tea is poisoned with a rut inducer. political shenanigans blah blah blah, but someone has designs on the survey corps, and what better way to portray them as weak than to have their commander go into a rut frenzy the same week he was due to attend a conference with the king? and it isn’t his usual rut - it’s brutal, and it makes him brutal. just thinking about rough fucking, about biting, about erwin looking dishevelled and wild-eyed and stalking after the object of his desire and just taking.

of course, he will moments of clarity. the guilt on his face is heart-breaking, but he still can’t stop fucking up into his partner, still can’t stop himself wanting to bite them, to taste them, to have them entirely. and after it’s all over, his rut is sated, and he can now think and act with clarity, he still finds himself constantly thinking about it. he finds himself still wanting them. maybe he always did. maybe he always will.

(and maybe he’ll get poisoned with rut inducer again and they’ll go for round 2 - but was he actually poisoned?)

AHHH YOU'RE SPOILING ME i had to wait until bedtime to reply otherwise i would have spent all afternoon thinking about tHIS

first of all YES. losing control would look delicious on a man like erwin!! erwin "gentleman on the streets, freak in the sheets" smith is absolutely the kind of guy who would try his hardest not to slip and lose control, even at such an uncontrollable moment, but when he does... OH BOY

these thoughts you're sharing with me are right up my alley, honestly, i'm weak for the whole "nobles try to sabotage erwin by secretly giving him an aphrodisiac" thing.............

they think they're being so clever, attempting something that can make a man as unshakable and put together as erwin lose control, but joke's on them, because maybe in some sick and twisted way they've actually done him a favour

let me explain: say you're his assistant (another concept i LOVE, i was made to serve him), his lovely, sweet, reliable assistant, the one woman he's sworn to never touch because he would feel awful for defiling you during a rut... and the one woman he secretly wants to touch the most.

you're the one who finds him first right after the drug kicks in, the right person at the right time (or at the wrong time, as he thinks in his brief moments of lucidity). he's quite a sight: flushed, face damp with sweat, breah laboured. he'd obviously tried to get rid of his shirt and belts but clearly failed because he just had to undo his trousers and free his aching cock. you find him like that, belts on the floor, with his shirt still half tucked in as he thrusts helplessly into his own fist.

he begs you to go away before he becomes dangerous, but you're resolute: your job as his assistant is to assist him right? so you're willing to do it in any way he can. you lock the door behind you and inch closer.

you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, you have no idea how enticing you look to him right now. his fondness for you grows silently each day, but right now none of the thoughts that fill his head are as chaste and innocent as they usually are. right now he wants to take, he wants to fuck, he wants to own.

his normal ruts are usually never like this. they're not easy, of course, even less so when he has to go through them without a partner, but this one is unlike any he's experienced before.

you're slammed against his desk as soon as you're in front of him, your trousers are hastily pulled down just enough to give him room, and then he's penetrating you. it's not romantic and it's certainly not proper: it's fast and it's hungry, driven by the most primal of needs—he needs to fuck you, breed you, fill you until you're stuffed and heavy with his children, yes, yes—

all you can do is lay there and take it, and accept that assisting him right now means being used as a warm little hole for his cock until he's satisfied, until he's had as many orgasms as it takes for the toxins to leave his body.

and you do it gladly.

it lasts for hours. he just can't stop railing into you, driven crazy by the shape of your body, your softness, and the smell of you which mingles so perfectly with his own—and you're moaning so prettily for him, and you're so wet there's a squelching noise every time he fucks you, and those sounds drive him even more insane than the drug ever did.

the sun is rising by the time he's fucking his last orgasm into you.

that's also when the fog finally clears. his cock softens and slips out easily, followed by rivers of his seed. you're exhausted, limp on the carpet, and there isn't a spot on your body that isn't covered in bite marks.

he'd sworn he'd never touch you. he'd sworn he'd never use you to satisfy his primal urges, because you deserve to be treated with far more tenderness, and yet—here he is.

despite what everyone says about him, erwin's just a man. he's not above lust and desire. maybe that's what the nobles were trying to accomplish by slipping that rut inducer into his drink.

luckily for him, though, you were there to help him through it, making sure the effect of the drug would wear off quicker. and now that that final wall between you has been breached, he can be sure you'll help him again and again. and again.

uhhhh i got carried away sorry

[tmos-time]

hello hello hello!!! It has been. Quite a while! I hope your year is going well and that your pride month has had a wonderful start! Or at the very least hasn't been bad :D May I have a headcanon in these trying times :? Perhaps one pertaining to an au? Or whatever's been on your mind lately

aw hey!!! hope your year has been going well too!! i have decided to give you my erisol understuck au proof of concept thoughts LOL

i have rotated this damn mini au in my head so many times. the comedy to be found in eridan being mettaton AND the royal scientist (and half-assedly pretending not to be) at the same time while sollux is stuck being an assistant/maintenance worker/public-facing royal scientist is so silly to me <3 anyways heres key notes on the au under a read more lol

eridan immediately shows off his walking around form to MSPA reader (who is obviously the best choice to be in the frisk role in an undertale au lets be real here) BEFORE the trivia show. sollux is also way more subtle about giving the right answers away, but still fucks up by pointing out a trick question, leading to the crush question

eridan's answers for "who does sol have a crush on" are aradia, feferi, karkat, and equius. this leads to bickering, mainly spurred by sollux being dumbfounded that eridan would put equius as an option out of all fourth options. MSPA reader, after listening to them yapping at each other for long enough, can get the option to pick eridan over the other options instead, leading to eridan flusteredly turning back to his little flying box form and comically floating away into the rafters. otherwise, the trivia battle ends on eridan trying to make fun of sollux and sollux complaining that everyone around him is stupid and cant read emotions lol

the rest of the hotland route is pretty unplanned; sollux probably minds his business, doesnt add you to his social media, and is blunt when having to direct you through the puzzles. he has no issues about being liked like alphys does hes is Just There he is Chilling. if you pick eridan in the trivia battle theres bonus dialogue sollux brings up about eridan + they probably get a "yeah i give a shit about you i guess, whatever, shut up" level of a confession scene after eridan's battle lol

not getting into all the ELABORATE thoughts i have on how the geno route would go but listen. look at the design i gave eridan. you know hes going down in one hit with a well placed shattering of the glass stomach as a homage to his canon death LOL