#and it's not fair for me to expect others to understand my frustration or anger

[rolandkaros]

nobody has any obligation to read this i just need to rant. not directed just general feelings that i'm feeling.

genuinely one of the most disheartening things is to constantly realize how few cis people are really aware of the pervasiveness of transphobia. like i live in one of the furthest left lgbtq+ cities in america and i go about my day assuming everyone i meet is transphobic until proven otherwise. and some of that is definitely paranoid but a lot of it is from my own experiences with coworkers, fellow students, roommates, friends, healthcare providers etc..

and i think there's also this genuine air about a lot of cis people where, they're okay with trans people as long as we stay in our corner and don't get too close. i think all the time, if you are cis and you call yourself an ally...how would you feel if your sibling came out? your parent? your best friend? how would you feel if you had a kid and your kid came out to you as trans? would that be hard for you?

because in truth i think there are a lot of cis people who don't acknowledge how uncomfortable they are with transness, and i can support this with my own experiences because i've had multiple people who i've come out to tell me later that they weren't really on board with my transness at first, they didn't like it, felt uncomfortable, etc., but over time they grew to be accepting. meanwhile, when i came out to them they called themselves allies and claimed to be fully accepting and supported.

so idk, i'm sitting here like, is it really that surprising that these sportspeople are transphobic? and how is it that so few people were aware? i mean i remember saville literally retweeted something transphobic like two months ago (and then deleted it) and it seemed to go totally under the radar even though it was all over my twitter feed.

and i understand a lot of it may just be the algorithm, because as a trans person i will get more trans news. but it still sucks because i feel like trans people are so often left to fight our own battles, and then cis people come in and are like 'omg this sucks! i can believe this is happening to you! this is so surprising to me, i'm so disappointed!' like where have you been? why is it surprising? why is it disappointing? have you seen the atmosphere around trans people in the world right now? it's been like this the whole time and it's getting worse.

and again i don't blame people for not knowing but i guess it just sucks to hear over and over again that people find it surprising. so much casual transphobia goes unchecked, i've just come to expect it as a part of day to day life. it's only natural that it permeates sports, especially with how aggressive the transmisogyny is getting. and so many cis people just have no concept of it. i get that it's just the nature of it, it's not necessarily anybody's fault. but again, it just sucks to realize that something that affects trans people so much so often is just not on a lot of cis people's radar 90% of the time.

[zapreportsblog]

Baby Come Back

➥ summary: miles misses his girl even though he won’t admit to to himself or anyone else, but when he sees her starting to move on without him, naw that settles it. It’s time to win his baby girl back

➥ a/n: this was inspired by @laaailuh fic “I Miss You”

The tension in the air was palpable as Miles Morales, also known as the Prowler, and his girlfriend (y/n) stood face to face in his small apartment. Their voices were raised, and emotions ran high, as they found themselves entangled in a heated argument.

"I can't do this anymore, Miles!" (y/n) exclaimed, her eyes filled with frustration and hurt. "You've been distant, shutting me out, and taking your anger out on me. It's not fair!"

Miles clenched his fists, trying to find the right words to express the turmoil inside him. "I know I've been a mess since my dad died," he admitted, his voice tinged with sorrow. "But I'm trying to deal with it in my own way."

(y/n) took a step back, her heart heavy with the weight of his words. "I understand that you're going through a lot, but you can't just push me away and expect me to stick around," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I need to be with someone who can share their pain with me, not shut me out."

Miles felt a surge of guilt wash over him, knowing that he had been unfair to (y/n). He loved her deeply, but the darkness of his grief had consumed him, making it difficult for him to see beyond his own pain.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "I need you, (y/n). Please, don't leave."

(y/n)'s eyes welled up with tears, torn between her love for Miles and the toll his emotional distance was taking on her. "I love you too, Miles, but I can't keep being hurt like this," she said, her voice choked with sadness. "You need to confront your grief and find a way to heal, for both of us."

As the words hung in the air, the weight of their unresolved issues seemed to crush them both. (y/n) turned away, unable to bear the pain in Miles' eyes, while he struggled to find the strength to let her go.

In the following days, the silence between them grew heavy and suffocating. They tried to carry on with their lives separately, but their hearts longed for the comfort and love they once shared.

One evening, as the sun set over the city, (y/n) made her decision. She couldn't keep waiting for Miles to heal on his own. She knew that it was time to face the truth and let go, even if it broke her heart.

She went to Miles' apartment, her footsteps echoing with each heavy step. The door opened, and Miles stood before her, his eyes red and swollen, a reflection of the pain he carried.

"I can't keep pretending that everything is okay," (y/n) said softly, her voice wavering. "I need to put myself first, and that means letting go."

Tears streamed down Miles' cheeks as he nodded, his heart aching with the weight of their decision. "I don't want to lose you, but I know I've been pushing you away," he said, his voice choked with regret. "I'm so sorry for hurting you."

They stood there, facing each other, knowing that their love wasn't enough to mend the broken pieces of their hearts. Their bond had been strong, but the weight of grief had shattered it.

With one last embrace, (y/n) turned away, her heart breaking as she walked away from the man she loved. The tears flowed freely as she left behind the life they once shared, but she knew that it was the right decision for both of them.

In the days that followed, the void left by their breakup was a constant reminder of the love they had lost. Miles faced his grief head-on, seeking counseling and support from friends and family, determined to find a way to heal.

And though they had parted ways, the memories of their love lingered in the corners of their hearts. The road ahead was uncertain, but they both knew that their journey towards healing had only just begun.

•••

In the days that followed the breakup, Miles Morales, also known as the Prowler, became even more withdrawn and closed off. The pain of losing (y/n) weighed heavily on his heart, and he found solace in isolating himself from his friends and emotions. He had always been good at hiding his feelings behind the mask of the prowler, but now it seemed like he was hiding from himself too.

At school, Miles tried to maintain a façade of indifference, a mask that he wore to shield himself from the questions and concerns of his friends. As he walked through the halls, he could feel the worried glances of his classmates, but he pretended not to notice.

During lunchtime, others approached him cautiously, their concern evident in their expressions. "Hey, Miles, are you doing okay?" Stu asked, his voice soft and caring.

He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to deflect their worries. "Yeah, I'm good," he replied with a forced smile. "It just didn't work out with (y/n), you know? It's whatever."

Stu exchanged a concerned glance with Anthony, realizing that Miles was trying to hide his pain. "You sure, man? We're here for you if you need to talk," he said gently.

Miles nodded, but he couldn't bring himself to share the turmoil inside him. "I appreciate it, but I'm fine," he insisted, avoiding eye contact with his friends. "I've got other stuff to focus on."

Just then the bell rang signaling that it was time for class.

As Miles sat in his classroom, his mind preoccupied with his own thoughts and emotions, he couldn't help but notice that (y/n) was just a few seats ahead of him. His heart clenched as he saw someone pass her a note discreetly.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the exchange. He could feel a pang of jealousy stirring within him, a reminder of the connection they once shared.

Trying to focus on the lesson, he fought the urge to look again. But as the minutes ticked by, his mind kept wandering back to the note. He couldn't shake the feeling of being left out, of no longer being a part of her life.

When the class finally ended, Miles gathered his belongings, but his feet felt heavy as he made his way towards the exit. He knew he should be moving on, but seeing (y/n) with someone else reminded him of what he had lost.

As he walked past her, he couldn't help but glance in her direction. Their eyes met briefly, and a mix of emotions washed over him. He wanted to say something, to reach out to her, but his pride held him back.

In the bustling school hallway, Miles mustered the courage to call out to (y/n) as she was making her way to her next class. "Hey, (y/n)!" he said, his voice a mix of nervousness and hope.

She turned around, surprised to see him, but she managed a polite smile. "Hey, Miles. What's up?" she asked, her guard up, unsure of what he wanted to talk about.

"I was wondering if we could meet up after school," he said, his eyes earnest. "There's something I really need to talk to you about."

(y/n) hesitated, her heart still guarded, but she knew that avoiding the conversation wouldn't resolve anything. "Miles, I don't think there's a need for us to talk," she replied, her voice measured. "It's all been said, hasn't it?"

Miles took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the words he wanted to say. "Please, cariño" he implored, "I just need a chance to explain and apologize. There's so much I want to say, and I can't keep pretending like everything's okay."

Her resolve softened as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. With a small sigh, she relented. "Okay, fine," she said, "but just this once, and only because I think we both deserve some closure."

•••

After school, they met at a nearby park, finding a quiet bench to sit on. The air between them was tense, but there was an unspoken understanding that they needed to have this conversation.

Miles began, his words slow and heartfelt. "I'm sorry,cariño, for shutting you out and being distant," he said, his voice tinged with remorse. "I've been dealing with so much since my dad's passing, and I didn't know how to handle it. But that's not an excuse for treating you the way I did."

She listened attentively, the wall around her heart slowly starting to crumble. "I know it was hard for you," she said softly, "but it was hard for me too. I felt like you pushed me away, and it hurt."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Miles replied, his gaze downcast. "I never meant to hurt you, (y/n). I just... I didn't know how to handle my emotions, and I thought if I pushed you away, it would protect you from my pain."

Her heart softened as she saw the vulnerability in his eyes. "You don't have to protect me, Miles," she said gently. "I wanted to be there for you, to help you through your grief."

He reached out and took her hand, his grip gentle yet pleading. "I wish I had let you in," he said, his voice filled with regret. "I wish I had talked to you about everything, instead of shutting you out."

Silence settled between them, the weight of their emotions palpable. (y/n) finally spoke, her voice tinged with sadness. "I miss you too, mi amor," she admitted, her eyes welling up with tears. "I miss us, but I don't know if we can go back to how things were."

Miles nodded, understanding the complexity of their situation. "I don't expect things to go back to normal right away," he said. "I just hope that we can find a way to move forward, even if it's not together."

Her heart ached, torn between the love she still felt for him and the uncertainty of their future. "I need time to heal too," she said softly. "But I'm willing to listen if you want to talk."

And so, beneath the setting sun, they started to open up to each other, their words filled with both pain and hope. As they talked, they realized that they needed to be honest about their feelings, even if it meant facing the difficult truths they had been avoiding.

Their conversation was raw and emotional, but it was a start. A start towards healing, towards understanding, and towards finding closure. Whether their paths would converge again or lead in different directions, they both knew that they had grown from their experiences and that they would always cherish the love they once shared.

[d-targaryenshoe]

A Petal For Love - Anthony Bridgerton

Word Count: 1600

Summary: When one has their passions, would they just let them go to waste for love?

Anthony Bridgerton stood in the doorway of your quaint flower shop, his tall figure casting a long shadow across the vibrant array of blooms.

The scent of roses, lilies, and orchids filled the air, creating a fragrant symphony that clashed with the tension in his chest.

He watched as you moved gracefully among the flowers, your hands deftly arranging a bouquet, your hair cascading over your shoulders like a waterfall of silk.

“Anthony,” you said, your voice warm and musical as you glanced up and saw him standing there. “What a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting you until later.”

Anthony stepped forward, his polished boots clicking on the wooden floor. “I needed to see you,” he said, his voice lower than usual. “We need to talk, y/n.”

Your smile faltered, and you set down the bouquet you were working on. “Talk? That sounds serious. Is something wrong?”

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he had been dreading. “Y/n, there’s something we need to discuss about the shop.”

Your eyes widened, and you crossed your arms over your chest, a defensive gesture he had come to recognize. “What about the shop?”

Anthony hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been thinking about our future, about what it means for us to be married. And I’ve realized that things will need to change.”

Your brow furrowed. “Change? What are you talking about?”

Anthony sighed, stepping closer and taking your hands in his. “I want you to close the shop, y/n. Like Mondrich had to do.”

Your reaction was immediate.

You pulled your hands away, a look of shock and disbelief on your face. “Close the shop? Anthony, you can’t be serious. This shop is my life. It’s everything to me.”

“I understand that,” he said, trying to remain calm. “But our lives are different now. We have responsibilities, and appearances to maintain. It’s not proper for the wife of Viscount Bridgerton to be running a flower shop.”

Your eyes flashed with anger. “Proper? Anthony, this shop is not just a hobby for me. It’s my passion, my livelihood. I’ve worked hard to build this business from the ground up. I can’t just abandon it because of some outdated notion of propriety.”

Anthony’s jaw tightened. He had known this would be difficult, but he hadn’t anticipated just how deeply you would be hurt by his request.

“I’m not saying you should abandon your passion. But there are other ways you can pursue it. We can have a garden at our home, or you can arrange flowers for society events.”

“It’s not the same,” you said, your voice trembling. “This shop is more than just flowers. It’s my independence, my sense of purpose. You can’t ask me to give that up.”

“I’m not asking,” Anthony said, his tone firmer now. “I’m telling you that this is how it has to be. We have to think about our future, our family.”

You took a step back, your eyes filling with tears. “I thought you loved me for who I am, not for who you want me to be.”

“I do love you,” Anthony said, his heart aching at the sight of your tears. “I love you more than anything. But sometimes love means making sacrifices for the greater good.”

“For the greater good?” you repeated, your voice incredulous. “Or for your good? Because it sounds to me like you’re asking me to sacrifice everything I care about for your image, for your status.”

“That’s not fair,” Anthony said, his frustration mounting. “You know how much I’ve sacrificed for this family, how much pressure I’m under. I need you to understand that this is what’s best for both of us.”

You shook your head, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. “I can’t do it, Anthony. I can’t give up the shop. It’s a part of me, just like you are. And if you truly love me, you’ll accept that.”

Anthony felt a wave of helplessness wash over him. He had always prided himself on his ability to solve problems, to take control of any situation.

But this was different. This was you, the woman he loved, and he couldn’t bear to see you so unhappy.

“Y/n,” he said softly, reaching out to you again. “Please, just think about it. We can find a way to make this work, together.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of love and determination. “I have thought about it, Anthony. And my answer is no. I won’t close the shop. I can’t.”

Anthony stared at you, realizing that he had underestimated your strength, your resolve. He had expected you to acquiesce, to trust his judgment.

But you were not a woman who could be easily swayed.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice heavy with resignation. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand. I just hope you know what this means for us.”

Your expression softened, and you took his hand in yours. "It means that we'll have to find a way to make this work, Anthony. Just like we always do. Because I love you, and I believe in us."

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as the scent of flowers enveloped you. "I love you too. More than you'll ever know. And I'll do my best to support you, no matter what."

You stood there in the middle of the shop, surrounded by the vibrant blooms that you had so carefully nurtured.

It was a place of beauty and life, just like you. And in that moment, Anthony realized that he couldn't take that away from you, no matter how much he wanted to protect you.

Days turned into weeks, and Anthony found himself grappling with the complexities of his new life as a husband.

He adored you, but the expectations of his family and society weighed heavily on him.

Every time he attended a social function or met with his peers, he felt the unspoken judgment, the questioning glances.

Why was his wife still running a flower shop? Why hadn't he put an end to it?

One evening, as you sat together in the drawing room of Bridgerton House, Anthony broached the subject again, though with more caution this time.

"Y/n, have you considered what we talked about?" he asked, his tone gentle.

You looked up from the book you were reading, your eyes steady. "Anthony, I told you my answer. The shop is important to me. It's not something I can just walk away from."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, but the pressure is increasing. My family, our friends... they all expect us to conform to certain standards."

"Standards that hide who we are?" you countered. "Anthony, I understand the pressures you face, but I also need you to understand mine. This shop gives me a sense of fulfillment, of independence."

Anthony nodded slowly, struggling to find the right words. "I don't want to lose you. But I also don't want to see you hurt by the harsh judgments of society."

You reached across the table and took his hand. "Then let them judge. We can't live our lives according to other people's expectations. We have to find our path."

The following morning, Anthony decided to take a different approach.

He visited the flower shop, determined to understand your world better.

As he entered, he was greeted by the familiar scent of flowers and the sight of you bustling about, your face glowing with happiness as you tended to your creations.

"Anthony," you said, smiling warmly. "What brings you here so early?"

"I wanted to see what you do here, to understand why it's so important to you," he replied, his tone sincere.

Your eyes softened. "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

You spent the next few hours showing him the various aspects of the business.

You arranged bouquets together, assisted customers, and even dealt with suppliers.

Anthony watched as you interacted with everyone with kindness and professionalism, your passion evident in every task you performed.

As the day drew to a close, Anthony felt a newfound appreciation for your work. He saw how much joy it brought you and how much it meant to the community.

The flower shop was not just a business; it was a haven of beauty and warmth, a place where people came to find solace and happiness.

Later that evening, as you sat together in your cozy sitting room, Anthony broached the subject once more, but this time with a different perspective.

"I-," he began, "I spent the day at the shop, and I saw how much it means to you and to everyone who visits. I understand now why you can't give it up."

You looked at him, your eyes shining with gratitude. "That means the world to me."

"But," he continued, "we still need to find a balance. We can't ignore the pressures we face as a couple in society. There must be a way to reconcile our responsibilities with your passion."

You nodded thoughtfully. "I agree. Perhaps we can find a way to manage both. I could reduce my hours at the shop, delegate more duties to my workers, and be more present at social functions."

Anthony smiled, relief flooding through him. "I think that could work. We need to support each other, to stand together in the face of whatever challenges come our way."

You leaned in, kissing him softly. "Thank you for understanding. I love you."

"I love you too. More than anything."

[mitchellnman]

THE SIMPLEST SOLUTION. PT 1.

MDNI.

Martin x reader x Michael Gavey

Word count: about 3.7k

Warnings: porn with very little plot, afab reader, she/her pronouns, cunnilingus, messy feelings, Martin's chill, Michael's not.

A/n: hi hello welcome to my random unbeta'd fic please enjoy

"I don't fucking get it." You groaned, your fingertips coming up to rub at your temples - though what you really wanted to do, was rip your hair out, and smash the mathematics textbook over —

"I didn't expect much from you, but really."

His head. Michael Gavey. Your math tutor. You had made a deal with him a few weeks ago, and who knew that the unassuming genius would turn out to be the devil incarnate? Certainly not you. It had been simple; his brain, your fingers.

Not like that. He wanted to learn how to play guitar, and you, with your band that played on the weekends at the local pub, considered yourself to be damn good at it. It had seemed fair, at the time. But now, tears pricked at your eyes, and you felt like a child again, sitting across the table from your father as he explained long division to you again, and your brain refused to comprehend it.

"Asshole." You muttered.

He smirked, and set his pencil down. "Perhaps if you spent more time studying, and less time with your greasy boyfriend, you'd understand."

"And maybe if you got laid once in a while, you wouldn't be such a cunt!" You spat back at him. You stared at each other, glaring fiercely, anger bubbling beneath the surface. He exhaled slowly, through his nose.

"One more try. Then we'll call it a night. Deal?" He asked, trying to reason with you.

He liked seeing you angry. It excited him, thrilled him - but he didn't want to make you too angry, and have you leave him. He knew you had a boyfriend, that imposing cryptid that you kissed on the cheek, and the lips, and—

He coughed, mentally wiping his mind of that image. He knew he was jealous, he had come to terms with it weeks ago, after a quick and hot rub of his crotch made him cum so hard he saw stars, face buried in the pillow you had plopped on your lap. It wasn't fair that Mark, Matthew, whatever his name was, got to hold you, got to touch you, taste you, and Michael only ever got to frustrate you.

He knew he was jealous. But you couldn't know that. It would ruin everything.

"Michael, no matter how many times you explain this thing, it doesn't make sense." You said, utterly frustrated with yourself. Your hands did go up to your hair then, tugging.

Michael pressed his lips together, and patted your shoulder. It was the only part of you that he permitted himself to touch, beside your hands when they brushed, knees when they knocked. "Let me try to show you a different method. A new perspective, if you will." He offered, his voice softer, and a touch sweeter.

You agreed - without much of a choice. Despite your reservations - by the end of the night you understood the problem, and Michael even had you explain how to solve it to him. He'd never say it, but he was proud of you, it was written all over his face.

You gathered your things and tucked them in your old black backpack, the one with the straps that you had to resew every six months. Michael watched you for a moment, then turned and started to rifle through a drawer. As you turned to say your goodbyes, he was there, holding a crunchy bar.

"For you." He said.

You smiled, brighter than the moon on a clear night. "You're sure?"

"Of course."

You took it from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other. Michael opened his mouth to say something, but your phone pinged before he could make a sound.

It was a text from Martin, your boyfriend.

[ just got dinner. Omw. ]

You smiled, and shot a quick text back. "I gotta go, Michael. Thank you so much, for the candy, for everything."

You bade a quick goodbye, and jogged down to the parking lot, where Martin was pulling up.

In his room, Michael seethed with jealousy, now that he was free to show his true face. He paced the room back and forth, so hard that he might wear a hole in the carpet - that's when he noticed you'd left your jacket behind. Black, oversized, with some band logo on the sleeve. Martin's, probably. With a twist of his stomach, he thought, you'd look better in one of his sweaters.

Michael plucked the hoodie up by the collar, holding it away from him like it might bite him. He licked his lips. Slowly, he brought it closer and closer, until his lips brushed over the ratty fabric. He inhaled, deeply.

It smelled like you. Not entirely like you, there were still hints of him. Of Martin. Sweat and oil and other godawful chemicals he liked to play with. Him and his models. Michael sneered, but only for a second. He pressed his face fully into the hoodie, smashing his glasses against the bridge of his nose.

He moaned.

Martin greeted you with a smile as he pushed the passenger door open from his side, the hinges squeaking in protest. You climbed in, and he tapped his cheek. With a laugh you obliged him, and planted a warm kiss to his jaw. The car smelled like dinner, ramen from a local place that held many of your memories together, laughter, fretting over bloodied knuckles, all of it.

"How was it?" He asked. He watched you buckle in, and took off once you were secure.

"Well," you said, pulling out Michael's crunchy bar. "I did so well, he gave me a reward."

Martin chuckled dryly. "Wait 'til we get home, I'll give you an even better one." His hand fell from the steering wheel, and onto your knee. His fingers found the holes in your jeans, and he started tracing the skin of your knees with light, teasing strokes.

You shivered. "Don't start, or I'm going to have to start, too."

In response, Martin squeezed your thigh. "I'm a good driver, but I don't know if I'm that good." He mused. "Besides, I couldn't look at you. That's the best part."

After dinner, while you were brushing your teeth in the bathroom, Michael texted you.

[ you left your jacket here. I only just noticed. ]

You swore quietly, and smacked your forehead. "Stupid." You muttered.

[ will you be there tomorrow? I can pick it up in the afternoon. I'm swamped in the morning. ]

You waited for a long moment. Then finally,

[ I'll be here. ]

[ thank you, Michael ❤️ ]

"Everythin' alright?" Martin asked, leaning against the doorframe. "I heard you swearin'."

You nodded. "I left my hoodie at Michael's. He was just letting me know."

"Awful nice of him." Martin mused. "Better than what I'd have done."

"Oh?" You asked, setting your phone down. "What would you have done?"

Martin grinned that evil smile of his, and sauntered closer to you. He was shirtless, post-shower, and just in a pair of gym shorts. You, meanwhile, wore one of his shirts, and a pair of boxers. He leaned down, and flicked the tip of his finger over your chin. "I would have fucked it until it smelled like me." He whispered, so close you could feel his warmth radiating off of his skin. He licked the tip of your nose with his ever-blue tongue. "Every time you wore it, you'd think of me."

His arms snakes around your waist, and brought you flush against his chest. His wet hair tickled your cheeks, like his lizard's tongue did when he had her 'kiss' you goodbye. Martin kissed you then, his fingers pressing into your flesh. You hooked your arms around his neck, and he pushed you against the counter, his desire evident against your stomach.

An hour later, you were both fast asleep, the scent of sex lingering in the air. You were curled against his chest, and his arms were around you, just like they always were - protective and possessive.

The next morning, he drove you to college as usual. You shared a long kiss goodbye, and went about your day. You took notes, studied, did everything a good student should do. Then at about 2, you made your way up to Michael's dorm room. You lifted your hand to knock, but Michael opened it before you could.

"Oh, hello-"

"What are you . . Oh, yes. Hoodie." Michael shook his head, as if to say 'duh'. "Come in."

"I can just grab it and go if you're busy—" you offered. Michael was unusually out of sorts, his hair unkempt, wearing the same clothes from yesterday, his eyes staring only at your neck.

"No, no. That's alright." He said. "I was just going to go to a vending machine for a snack." He met your eyes finally, something simmering beneath the surface. "I see Martin's made a snack out of you."

You frowned. "What do you-? Oh, shit—" You pushed past him and took a look at yourself in the mirror; Martin had left his mark on you indeed, four hickeys in the vague shape of an 'M'. "He knows better, damnit." You sighed, rubbing your forehead.

Michael watched you, and tilted his head to the side. "You don't like it?"

"I go to an ivy league college with a blue collar background, I just —"

"You want to make a good impression on people you'll never see again." Michael deadpanned. "You don't want them to think you're a slut."

You rolled your eyes. "I hate when you do that."

"What?"

"Make a good point but deliver it like an asshole."

He grinned, cheekier than you'd ever seen him. "Your hoodies on the edge of the bed - I had to move it to sit." Michael explained.

You nodded gratefully. "Thank you." You said, immediately tugging it on. You sniffed it as you did - and it smelled like Michael. That made sense, it had been in his room all night. He smelled different than Martin, very clean, with hints of cologne and sweetness. It made you smile, a soft fondness crawling into your heart.

Michael let out a quiet sigh of relief. He hadn't, as Martin said, fucked the hoodie. He'd slept with it, his face buried in the fabric, inhaling your scent as much as he could - and he humped the mattress. For a very long time, longer than he'd realized. He only woke up a half hour ago, and tidied everything in a mad dash, and hoped you wouldn't notice anything amiss.

The little 'M' on your neck made his mouth go dry. For a moment, he pretended that you were his, and that 'M' stood for Michael, not Martin. He swallowed.

"Are you alright?" You asked. You stepped closer to him, brow furrowed in concern. Michael looked like he might be sick. You pressed the back of your hand to his forehead. "Michael, you're burning up." You whispered.

He let out a strangled noise. "I'm fine." He insisted. He took your hand in his, then looked at it like he didn't quite know what to do with it. "I..." He took a breath, and shook his head. "I think I just need to eat. I was up late, erm, reading."

You frowned, not believing him for a second. "Michael, I—"

The world stopped. He pulled you flush against his chest, and he smashed his lips against yours.

You never saw it coming.

Well - maybe a little. The two of you had some sort of tension, but - you had Martin, and Michael didn't seem the type.

You pushed him away as suddenly as he had tugged you in. "What the fuck, Michael?!" He tasted sweet. Like a crunchy bar.

He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry - I don't know what came over me—" As you watched, tears welled up in his eyes. "I'm so sorry." He whispered, his voice cracking.

"Why did you do that?" You asked, hugging yourself tightly. "You know I'm dating Martin..."

"I know." He said weakly. "I know you are, and, and it kills me."

You stared at each other, tears streaming down each other's faces. You didn't know what to say. You liked Michael, you did - he was kind when he wanted to be, smart, sometimes even funny - and sure, he was cute, but —

"I have to go." You whispered.

"Don't tell him." Michael pleaded. "I'm begging you."

You shook your head. "I have to, Michael."

"He'll kill me." Michael said, his hands starting to shake.

"No, he won't, I promise." You wiped your face with the sleeves of your hoodie. "He's not like that."

"He does that ... car-jitsu!"

"He's got daddy issues, not anger issues." You laughed weakly, and Michael's heart broke a little. "I'll talk to you... sometime. I'm sorry." You said, unsure why you were apologizing.

Michael nodded, and hung his head. "I'm sorry." He whispered again, and you knew he meant it.

You took the bus home, and waited on the couch for Martin to get home from work. You tried to stop the flood of tears, but it was all for nothing. When he came home, you were sobbing softly into a pillow, and he curled around you, immediately comforting you.

When you told him what happened - he didn't have much of a reaction. In fact, he chuckled.

"Martin, it's not funny!" You said, smacking at his chest. "How am I supposed to go back there and face him?"

"Seems pretty simple to me." Martin mused, a shit-eating grin on his face. "An easy solution, if you will."

You frowned, and smacked his chest again. "You're not Gandalf, stop speaking in riddles!"

Martin laughed again, rubbing his chest. "What I'm sayin' is, I don't mind sharin'."

You squinted at him. "But I don't—"

"You do. I've seen the way you talk about him. Even if you don't know it, you're sweet on him, just a little." Martin shrugged, totally nonchalant.

"I am not, he's an asshole, and a know-it-all—"

"First, isn't he quite literally a genius? Sort of his job, innit? Second, you're blushing."

You clapped your hands to your cheeks, and were utterly dismayed to find that he was correct. Your face was flushed, and your skin practically burned underneath your fingertips. "I hate this." You whispered, utterly mortified.

Martin grunted. "Eat dinner with me. Sleep it off. We'll go see him tomorrow. What's his schedule?"

You pressed your fingers into your forehead, gently massaging yourself. "It's Saturday, so - nothing. And knowing him, he'd be holed up in his room anyways. He thought you were going to kill him."

Martin laughed. "Poor guy. I bet I could make him cry."

"Martin!"

"I'm kidding!"

You woke up the next morning groggy and sleepy, but feeling a little better than you had last night. Martin kissed your nose, and you smiled, curling into him, burying your face in his chest. He held you there, running his fingers through your hair. You stayed like that for an hour, just enjoying each other's presence.

"Get dressed." He whispered, patting your hip. You looked up at him with a soft smile, and he squeezed your ass in return.

So you got dressed, in jeans, a t-shirt, and the hoodie from yesterday. You ate breakfast with Martin, pancakes and bacon. Then, you got in the car, and drove to college.

"He lives on the third floor." You said, taking Martin's hand to lead him to Michael's room. Your stomach flip-flopped every step of the way, and once you reached Michael's door, you hesitated. "Martin-"

"Go on." He said. "I'll behave."

"Bullshit." You snorted. But, you knocked.

Michael opened the door - he'd showered and changed clothes, you noted. He looked awfully sorry for himself as he looked at you - then he glanced at Martin, and he gulped. "Hullo." He whispered.

"Hi..." You said. "Can we come in?"

"I thought you said he wasn't going to kill me."

"He won't." You promised.

Martin rested his chin on the top of your head, and he winked at Michael. Michael shivered, but he let you in.

"What's going on?" He asked, closing the door behind you two. "I'm sorry about yesterday, I don't know what came over me."

"I know. I get it." Martin said. To prove his point, he kissed you, lifting your chin up with two fingers. Michael watched, his lips parted. "Believe me, Michael, I understand..." Martin purred, his arm snaking around your waist. "It'd be awful rude of me not to share."

Michael coughed, choking on his own spit. "If you're fucking with me, this isn't funny."

"We're not." You said. "I promise we're not. Michael... you don't have to. But you can if you want." You held your hand out to him, the black nail polish on your fingernails chipped.

He pressed his lips together, fidgeting in place. "I've never - I don't know what to do." He admitted, guilt flashing across his face.

Martin grinned. "Take her hand. We'll show you."

Michael stared at the pair of you, and after a long moment, he did take your hand, his palm sweaty. You smiled, and pulled him closer, just as close as he had you yesterday. You kissed him, slowly and softly at first. Michael was slow to reciprocate, but soon enough he was whining against your lips.

"Easy, poindexter." Martin chuckled. He slid his hands up your waist and under your shirt, his hands cool against your skin. "How badly do you want to taste her?"

Michael gasped, his pretty cheeks flushing a bright red. "I - that's -"

"It's a simple question." Martin said, his hands sliding up your chest, to cup your tits. You hadn't worn a bra, and your breath hitched in delight.

"I mean - I suppose I would - I don't know what to do." He stammered.

Martin grinned. "I'll teach you. Hey, get on the bed."

You obeyed, laying down on your back. Martin took your hoodie off, and looked over his shoulder at Michael. "Get in between her legs. Have you ever seen a pair of tits in real life?"

Michael shook his head as he climbed onto the bed with you two, his hands shaking. You smiled, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Tell you what, if you can make her come, you can touch them. How's that sound?" Martin asked.

You nodded. "I like the sound of that."

Martin licked his lips, equally eager and nervous. "A-agreed."

"Arms up, babe." Martin said. You obeyed, and your shirt was removed. Michael's eyes went wide when he saw your tits, his mouth gaping wide.

"Watch." Martin instructed. He bent down, and kissed your chest, dragging his tongue over your skin. His lips wrapped around your nipple and you moaned, wrapping your hand in his hair. He suckled there for a moment, his hand teasing your other nipple. He lifted his mouth to speak.

"Take her pants off." He instructed.

Michael obeyed. His fingers fumbled with the snap, but soon enough he was tugging them down your thighs, and pushing them to the floor. He eyed your panties, nearly drooling with want.

"Take those off, too." Martin said.

Michael touched you reverently - he was living a waking wet dream, he wanted to savor this. He slid your panties down your legs, and you bit your lip.

"Put them in your pocket." Martin said, sucking a mark into your chest.

Michael nodded, and stuffed them away with a cheeky grin. "Now what?"

Martin chuckled. "Take your best shot."

Michael bit his lip, and slowly lowered his face to your core. He gave you an experimental lick, humming at your taste. He spread your lips, and licked you again - and he clearly knew his anatomy. He rubbed your clit with his tongue, and you moaned softly, your free hand tangling in his hair, too.

"That's it..." Martin purred. "Good boy. Use your fingers, too."

You were already wet for Michael, he was delighted to find. Slowly, he pressed a finger inside of you, his breath hot on your skin.

"Do this." Martin said, demonstrating a 'come hither' motion with his fingers. Michael watched, and committed it to memory. "You'll know if you're doing a good job."

Michael mimicked the motion, and he found your sweet spot with utter ease. Your hand tightened in his hair, and he groaned against you, his hips rocking against the mattress.

It was all so much, being worshiped so feverishly by the pair of them, Martin practically drooling on your tits, and Michael sucking on your clit like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted.

Which, it was.

It didn't take much to coax you over the edge, and you cried out, squeezing Michael's head between your thighs, the cold wire of his glasses pressing into your skin.

Michael made a sudden choked noise, and by the stuttering of his hips - he had come too, whining pathetically against you. You moaned, and forced your thighs to relax.

Michael sat up from your aching core, his mouth and chin covered in your slick. His glasses were fogged up, and he gave you a cheeky smile. Martin lifted his head from your tits, and kissed him. Michael choked, and shoved him away. Then their lips came smashing back together, Martin hungry for your taste on Michael's lips. You gasped softly, watching Martin's blue tongue disappear into Michael's mouth. Martin took Michael's hand and guided it inside of you. They each had two fingers in your wetness, and they found your sweet spot together.

You squirmed and moaned as Martin uses his free hand to tug on Michael's sandy locks, wrenching his head back. Michael groaned, and as Martin gave him a 'M' mark, his teeth sinking into the genius' skin, you came hard, squirting on their fingers. Your hands twisted in the sheets, so hard they might rip. Your back arched as you cried out their names, your vision going white.

As you came to, panting softly, the boys settled in by your sides. Michael's hand squeezed your tit, and he smiled, nosing into your neck.

"Do you think you're up to fuck her? Martin asked, his voice taunting.

Michael gulped.

To be continued...

[desceros]

in light of recent events in this fandom, i am no longer going to accept fic or headcanon requests until further notice.

disgust at the actions in this community have sapped my creativity and desire to publish my fics. hurt and anger have made me unwilling to participate in this fandom. disappointment in others makes me question if i want to even continue interacting here, knowing the dark underbelly i've seen of people from whom i expected better.

however, i have close friends that i know are eager to share in the stories in my head, and i do still want to participate in this fandom. i like seeing art. i like reading others' stories. i like laughing with people about funny headcanons. it doesn't feel fair to punish people who love my stories and respected my boundaries because of the actions of a few selfish individuals. i'm not going to deprive myself of things i love because of the selfish, immoral acts of others.

however, my trust has been violated. and i don't take lightly to this.

i'm going to delete all anon requests that are currently in my askbox and i will not be filling any of them. i can no longer trust that they were not sent in by minors, or people who don't see any issue with minors interacting with adults in fandom.

in the possible event that i do decide to open requests again—heavy, heavy emphasis on if—i will not accept any from anonymous senders. this trust has been broken, and it will never return.

that said, i have decided after much deliberation to keep my inbox open. i love this community that we've built together. i love hearing what parts of my fics made you excited, or which ones made you scream with frustration. i love getting song recommendations. i love getting art.

i have also decided that i'm not going to delete any of the requests i've already filled, anonymous or not. i'm very passionate about information archival, and it feels wrong of me to eradicate my art on behalf of the behavior of others. but those will be the last anonymous requests i will ever fill.

thank you for understanding, and thank you everyone for helping me make this a safe place for everyone.

[pinesfamilyguidetotheweird]

Relativity Falls AU: A Slightly Different Take

In a previous post, I said that a Relativity Falls where its Mabel who was technically the Ford in this AU makes a bit more sense in a way.

So, I wanna write out my thoughts of how it can be.

The starting point is based/inspired by a post I've read...a post I can't seem to find and I thought I liked it so I can share a link... Just keep in mind that this was not an original idea.

Just like in canon, Mabel always felt overshadowed by her brother for being the smart twin and Dipper always felt pressure of being the smart twin because of others' expectations.

From that same post, they proposed the idea of using the unused/scrapped episode idea where Mabel creates a new chemical called Mabellium and it caused Dipper to feel jealous.

So, that's what happens here. Mabel creates the chemical and is nominated for the science fair, even winning first prize, which was usually won by Dipper. She would then be given a chance to receive a scholarship for a prestigious school. As much as Dipper should feel proud of his sister, he starts to feel jealous of her accomplishments. He was supposed to be the smart twin and she was supposed to be the fun twin.

That's what everyone said.

Frustrated, Dipper sneaks into the gymnasium where the science fair held and airs his anger out to the Mabellium. He hits the table, causing the Mabellium to shatter. Realizing what he did, he puts rock candy on the table instead. While he makes his escape, he leaves behind a chewed pen.

The next day, Mabel shows the judges the 'Mabellium', only to see bugs gather around the rock candy, causing her to lose the scholarship. Mabel finds the chewed pen and confronts Dipper. She felt hurt that Dipper would sabotage her creation and accuses him of seeing her as the dumb twin. Dipper doesn't really help his case when he basically (at least from Mabel's perspective) said that he deserved the scholarship more than her by saying that Mabel wasn't really into that and would have no use of the scholarship.

(Again, I wish I knew how to find the post that talked about this. If anyone knows what I'm talking about, feel free to tell me!)

This is where things get different because, typically in Relativity Falls, the kids' parents act more similarly to the Stans' parents. Understandable since we don't fully know what Dipper and Mabel's parents are like, and even with the Book of Bill, its up to interpretation. But, taking from my headcanons, their parents are loving and supportive. So, how would the twins split?

Instead of either twin getting kicked out, Mabel decides to run off to prove herself that she can be as smart as Dipper, driving away in her 1960s camper van (a Volkswagen hippie van) that she named Shooting Star that she mostly uses to store her crafting stuff. Upon leaving, Mabel would stumble upon a cryptid, even taking a picture of it. This sparks an idea to find anomalies and prove their existence (as a means to show up Dipper as he liked the supernatural), all the while earning money with her crafting skills. She would eventually be led to Gravity Falls.

The rest is essentially like the AU made by @muggy-b, though maybe with some differences.

As for Dipper's side...he lives a boring college life before living a boring existence as a research assistant up until he gets a call from Mabel years later.

[jammingjaem]

dream store

13. my broken melodies

PAIRING | lee haechan x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS | rising up in the music industry as a young songwriter and producer, you wouldn’t think that you’d get hired by sm entertainment and write a song for your favorite group. although there was one downfall: you don’t think making music makes you happy anymore. but the endearing and charismatic lee haechan has swept you off of your feet. and here you’re asking yourself— what are you waiting for in life?

y/n heard footsteps coming up to her, so she closed her eyes and took an internal deep breath before sighing. she opened her eyes, looking away from her phone and looking up to see lee haechan standing there with two cups of coffee from tiffin. the nct member gave her a hopeful smile as he watches her stand up and she met his gaze, her expression a mix of disappointment and frustration.

“do you hate me?” she blurted out, her voice tinged with hurt. “i trusted you with my dilemma. why would you betray me?”

haechan’s smile faltered at her question, his own guilt evident in his expression. “can you get your coffee first?” he tried to lighten the mood, but y/n wasn’t having it. she snatched the cup from his hand and thrust his journal at him.

“i’m giving you five minutes to talk and apologize, lee donghyuck,” she stated firmly.

haechan’s shoulders slumped as he took the journal, his gaze dropping to the ground momentarily before meeting hers again. “i... i was going to tell you in the beginning that i did read your diary,” he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. “but you looked so happy seeing it clean, untouched, and i didn’t want to wipe that smile off your face. and then you asked if we could hang out...”

y/n’s frown deepened at his explanation. “you could’ve told me the truth then and there, haechan,” she said softly. “i would’ve let you read my diary more if you just told me.” she shook her head, struggling to understand his actions. “but you started to write about my diary entries? why?”

haechan took a deep breath, steeling himself to explain. “when you told me about how you don’t have a passion for music anymore and how you’re not happy, i wanted to change that,” he began earnestly. “and i realized that using your experiences could help you get back into songwriting. y/n, you’re an amazing writer and an amazing performer. i just... i don’t know what came over me.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i wanted to surprise you and show you how talented you are from what you’ve written about.”

y/n’s anger began to melt away, replaced by a mix of confusion and gratitude. she hadn’t expected this explanation, nor had she anticipated the depth of haechan's intentions. “i appreciate the sentiment,” she admitted, her tone softer now. “but next time, just talk to me, okay? no secrets. we’re friends, for crying out loud.”

“will you forgive me?” haechan’s voice was filled with desperation as he looked into y/n’s eyes, pleading for absolution.

she sighed, feeling torn between her anger and her understanding of his motives. “i don’t think i can right now," she replied softly. haechan smiled softly at her, “but please, just let nct dream work with you again?” his earnestness tugged at her heartstrings. “i’ll stay away from you, i’ll let the others take over the song— your song.”

“it’s not my song if you’re the one writing it. it’s not fair to you,” y/n mumbled, her gaze fixed on the ground.

haechan chuckled half-heartedly, acknowledging her words. “it’s not fair to you that i used your diary entries,” he admitted, his voice tinged with remorse. they stopped walking in front of a convenience store, the weight of their conversation hanging heavy between them. “i have the melody written down and everything—but things are missing. and i realized that i need you to finish it.” haechan pipes up, looking over to her.

“i can’t finish it if my songwriting brain is broken,” y/n lightly joked, attempting to ease the tension. “with my songwriting and your lyrics and melody... it will be—broken melodies.”

haechan’s eyes lit up with inspiration, and he moved to sit with her at an empty table in front of the store, pulling out his journal. “that’s it,” he murmured, flipping through the pages. “that’ll be the title of our song.”

“my broken melodies joke?” y/n questioned, raising an eyebrow.

he nodded eagerly, a smile spreading across his face. “broken melodies.” the words sounded perfect to him, encapsulating their shared journey of struggles and redemption.

as they sat together, the weight of their misunderstanding began to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of collaboration and understanding.

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TAGLIST (closed.) | @celestialsluvrs @cosmicwintr @suzayaaa @polarisjisung @lovefolder @jinsoul-gf @fullsunahceah @renjunniex @wonkivrse @en-gelic @tywritesstuff @jenodreamer @haechansbbg @miyawwn @n0hyuck @222brainrot @ur-purin @dinonuguaegi @replayenthusiast @i6renj @giaccolo @nanawrlds @multifandomania @jeongintwt @luv4jeno @lelengerine @gomdojun @yeppietennie @jaeimjaemin @thisisnotjacinta @hugs2doie @mystverse @jjaeyuna @rksbae @x-jaehyunluvr-x @bunchofroses07 @darlingz99 @yv72s @lixizpixi @ggukkiedae @cupidsmoons

[prince-liest]

some recent thoughts on Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, and why even though I find Nie Mingjue very frustrating in the midst of his Baxia-induced anger issues, I think he’s also a pretty sympathetic character as a whole and it’s really understandable why he thinks the way he does

(as someone who ships 3zun and nieyao, and through the lens of “Jin Guangyao is my blorbo”)

I’ve seen a tendency to paint NMJ and JGY’s relationship in black and white in terms of who was fundamentally more in the right, which to be honest is not really the approach I take to fandom in general. to me the tragedy is that NMJ and JGY before JGY's casting-out had immense respect and perhaps even love (platonic, romantic, whatever) for each other. in the end, a lack of mutual understanding of each others' circumstances that could have otherwise eventually been overcome was driven, by bigotry, Jin Guangshan, and the Nie cultivation style, into becoming an insurmountable difference that eventually killed them both

NMJ definitely Did Not Get where JGY was coming from when JGY was making survival decisions and keeping secrets. he was simply not raised in a way where he ever even had to think about the types of choices that JGY has been forced to make since he was quite young. but at the same time, NMJ was a teenager raising his brother and his sect from a very young age and I think it's a disservice to his character to fail to acknowledge that his entire life he expected to die a young and horrific death, just like he watched his father die, and that this expectation deeply colors his approach to the world. JGY plays the long game. NMJ does not get to think about that, he just has to raise his brother, win a war, and try not to drive his sect into the ground before he kicks the bucket in a violent and gruesome manner. he does not have a choice about any of these things.

and said things are extremely difficult to do, especially as a teenager, which I think is a reflection of MDZS's whole thing where their entire generation is just traumatized by war and conflict and a dearth of genuine, honorable guidance and leadership, which leads to such fractures

but it's also a series of tasks that required the kind of attitude that Nie Mingjue develops, and that in combination with Baxia’s influence gives him this really immovable perspective on life that he just won't budge on with JGY. I think it’s really significant that when Jin Guangyao does regularly play Clarity for NMJ, they get along quite well. and I also think it's really understandable why NMJ is so stubborn and headstrong - he's had to fight his way through being sect leader and not take "no" for an answer, because what the hell else can a young, new leader do to avoid being taken advantage of? frankly even if he had taken up a bit of whatever guile Nie Huaisang didn’t hog from the Nie gene pool... why would he direct it towards self-preservation? he has no room for that kind of fear because he is going to be dead in a few years.

importantly as well, Nie Mingjue unjustly judges Jin Guangyao because he is unable to understand the context that JGY is coming from, but that same righteousness is the reason that he's the first person to have given Meng Yao a fair shake and rewarded his hard work and labor, and that matters a lot to Jin Guangyao and their relationship as a whole. you can’t really have one without the other unless you give Nie Mingjue time to grow up.

unfortunately, Nie Mingjue died his 20s, and was in his teens when the Sunshot Campaign began. look me in the eyes and explain to me what kind of behavior you expect from a 20-something with a magic rage sword.

[nalyra-dreaming]

I don’t think the fans freaking out are doing so because of a lack of patience or want of ‘instant gratification’. I’m sure your anon didn’t mean to imply that, and you Nalyra, have been nothing but supportive and understanding (thank you) it’s just as a DM/Daniel/Armand fan it was a lot that was (potentially) changed/revealed about the dynamic very quickly. So let me explain why some are worried?

Like I went into the finale with low expectations of anything DM being shown. I was also open to them either doing past or only-present DM, maybe Armand had become fascinated during Dubai (I thought, same with Daniel)? Could be fun! Hearing Daniel would be turned I adjusted and was also open to them starting with them hating each other because Armand turns him due to anger. Then we don’t see that scene, which sucked ngl but I adjusted and thought well we might see it in the future. Then Rollins goes and says in several interviews that won’t happen. He could be lying but I don’t think we should hold it against fans who take him at his words.

Also he’s recently said they are doing their own version (which again is fine with me) but that it will be ‘spiritually right’. So what’s spiritually right about DM? I would say there are several aspects to it - but of course not all need to happen for it to be spiritually true. It is an adaptation after all.

Like there’s the co-dependent unequal power dynamic, there’s powerful Armand falling for a fragile human, there’s Daniel loving Armand (and seeing him as he is) despite the latter’s darkness, there’s the hate-love aspect, Daniel running away, the verbal fighting, “beautiful boy”, blood addiction, Armand loving Daniel too much to condemn him to vampirism, Daniel teaching Armand about tech/the world - bringing some humanity back to him after he’d isolated for a long time etc. (Armand’s fascination with all of these things), them falling in love through a chase, Armand not being able to let Daniel go when he’s dying, Armand keeping Daniel prisoner (which has been adapted) etc.

A lot of this stuff is tied to Daniel being human when they fall in love, and a lot has therefore potentially been cleared off the table by Daniel’s turning. Some fans view certain of these aspects as essential - for example Armand refusing to condemn Daniel to vampirism/and then doing it out of love. I’m okay with them changing this up, but I think it should be okay for fans to be apprehensive as seemingly a fair amount of the DM plot beats (not just one specific one or two) must change if they are doing was Rollins seem to be implying. I don’t think most DM fans are chiefly upset that they didn’t get to see the turning now, people are worried it will never happen and that DM will be so different as to be unrecognisable as a version of DM. I’m more optimistic, but I think fans have the right to be a bit worried.

Love your blog Nalyra, hope I don’t come across as too frustrated at your other anon, I do get your point of view anon, I do (I’m sure there’s more fatalistic fans out there so I do feel you), I just wanted to share my side of it as well, since I think I get why some fans are worried and disappointed.

All good, glad you like, and thank you for explaining!!

I… think there’s enough hints by Jacob and Eric now to expect the past chase to have happened. As such I think that part of DM (the chase and falling in love) will hold.

I think the finale left a lot with a kind of ”whiplash“ feeling. Me too, tbh, after two nights. As I said, I‘m working on a separate post with my thoughts.

Because what some called rushed or pacing issues was imho very deliberately dealt punches to the stomach.

Daniel‘s turning and the eye-color change carries so many repercussions?! So much meaning. It’s almost impossible to grasp.

Which is likely intentional.

And that is very frustrating. Totally get that.

They seem to stay close to the book structure (despite everything) and so I won‘t expect the full breadth of DM pre season 4. Which is … a hell of a wait.

But at least - and this is not to shut you up or anything(!!) but coming from personal experience - at least you don’t have to deal with shit for doubting the tale at this point. Or other shit pertaining to Lestat.

Isn’t that something at least? :/

[nexttrickanvils]

B2J with any boss of your choice with anger 3

Anger 3. How is this my fault?

“HOW IS THIS MY FAULT!?”

“You don’t explain stuff clearly! You trying to give me directions is like:”

May proceeded to wave her arms around which just seemed to further anger Eve.

“I do not explain clearly!? What on Earth was that flailing supposed to represent!?”

Zuke sighed. He had hoped when he and May offered to help Eve with her current project that it would be a good chance to bond.

After all, he and Eve had agreed to try things again as friends and she and May have been taking steps to get along.

But he probably should have seen the “creative differences” coming.

He stood by as May and Eve continued to argue until finally walking away from each other. May collapsed onto a nearby loveseat (earning yet another glare from Eve) and sulked.

Eve practically stomped out of the studio, claiming she had to look over something.

Without a word, Zuke walked over to May and sat down next to her.

“Want to talk?”

“UGGGGGGHHHHH”

“...Is that a "no” or…?”

“How does she expect anyone to understand what she's talking about!? I'm not freaking psychic and being in her head last time resulted in us getting stomped on and flicked at and lasered!”

May looked at Zuke with confusion in her eyes.

“The two of you used to be close, how the heck did you manage to even talk to her?”

Zuke looked thoughtful for a moment before replying.

“Well, Nadia always preferred to let her art and actions do the talking for her and as someone who tended to be quiet, I kind of related to that. That said… we had our fair share of communication issues.”

Moments where he misinterpreted what she meant, moments where he took her too literally, and more that just added to the growing rift between them.

“I know you prefer when people are more direct, especially when they’re trying to tell you to do something and Nadia can do that but she never liked the idea that “art had to explain itself to be understood” as she’d put it.”

“I mean I guess she’s got a point but where am I supposed to even start with “Embrace your fire!?””

With that Zuke stood up from the love seat and shot a reassuring look to May.

“Look, I really want what we’re doing to work out so I’ll talk to Eve, okay?”

May immediately stood up and grabbed Zuke’s arm before he could take a step.

“No, I should talk to her. We all want this to work out and that’s not gonna happen if we just make you be our middleman instead of talking like grown-ups.”

Zuke looked surprised but then smiled, “Okay.”

Before anything else could be said, the door to the studio swung open. Eve came back inside, looking less stressed than earlier but still a little tired.

“Alright. Let us start this again from the top.”

Zuke then glanced at May and gave her a nod. She then took a deep breath and made her way to Eve.

“Actually before that… I’m sorry about getting angry and yelling. I know you want your art to speak for itself but… It’s just kinda hard for me to figure something out just from vibes.”

For a moment, it looked like there was a gleam of understanding in Eve’s uncovered eye.

“I… I must admit that I prefer to express my thoughts in a more abstract way than most would prefer. So I also apologize for losing my temper at you.”

May smiled, “Great! So… if you don’t mind, what was it you meant when you told me to “embrace my fire?” I know you’ve compared me to fire before… in not a nice way but still.”

“Yes when I made the comparison, I was thinking of how wild and destructive fire can be. But I do realize now that that is not all fire can be…”

Zuke watched in relief as Eve and May started to have a more productive conversation. 

There were still issues of course, with May’s impatience with Eve’s explanations and Eve’s frustrations when she had to repeat something.

But he could tell that the two were trying to do better.

It wasn’t much but Zuke was proud of the two taking those little steps of progress.

[sprovod]

FORGIVE ME FATHER, AND ABSOLVE ME OF MY SINS; SEQUEL

This is a part two to “Forgive Me Father, For I Have Sinned.” I greatly appreciate the support I got on that, so thank you! I hope you all enjoy this :-) Fair warning, this does have smut in it and there will be sensitive themes, so please be warned! Reader is female.

{ @deeranger requested to be tagged in pt 2, so here u go!! :) }

Her words rattled through his body like a lightning strike, causing him to clench his jaw and look up at the arched ornate ceiling of the Church. His knuckles turned white as he gripped her hair harder, earning a satisfactory groan from the girl who sat on her knees before him. He was giving her exactly what she wanted, he was starting to cave in and she knew it. “What's wrong, Father?” She grinned, looking up at him with fake displays of innocence and confusion on her face. Reluctantly, he locked eyes with the girl, exhaling through his nose sharply at her image. Him being face to face with a demon was nothing new; but the difference was that he was the leader of this Church, unarmed, getting seduced and trying not to give into temptation. “You know what’s wrong.” He said behind gritted teeth, anger seething behind each word that fell from his mouth. “Isn’t it your job to help me find the right path..?” She asked, tilting her head, “That’s all I’m asking of you.” She said, pouting as she gently placed her chin against his bulging crotch.

She could feel his length twitch beneath his confining zipper, earning a frustrated whimper from him. “Please, I can’t do this.” He whined softly, “You know I can’t.” She laughed softly, “Then let go of me, and I’ll leave.” She responded bluntly, quirking an eyebrow up at him. He paused, looking as if he was arguing with himself internally. “Aww, that’s right; you know you can’t.” She mocked, he tilted his head back once more towards the ceiling, and sighed. He was getting more frustrated with each passing moment, and she was living for it. “Fine,” He started, looking back down at her after a moment. It was as if in those few moments of clarity he had to himself, something inside of him snapped. His patience with the girl finally ran out, and he was going to ensure that she was aware of it. “You want to be saved? Then you’re going to do what I say, how I say, when I say. Do you understand?” He growled, leaning down so he was closer to her face. She looked surprised; she wasn’t expecting him to be this dominant. She nodded slowly, “Y-Yes, Father. I understand.”

He squinted softly and he nodded, his lips pursed into a tight smirk. “Good. Now get to work.” He said, nodding toward his crotch. She quickly began to unzip his black slacks when she was met with the hem of his black briefs. She looked up at him once more, to which he nudged his head expectantly. “Don’t play stupid. Be a good girl and undress me.” He sneered down at her. She nodded, looping her pointer and middle fingers beneath the hemming of his clothes and using her thumbs for support as she pulled his pants and briefs down. She was greeted with a large, hard, and angry cock that gently swayed once it was released from its confinement of clothes. She had never dealt with anything this big before, but she was more than willing to see how much of him she could handle. She reached for his member, but before she make any contact with it, the hand that held her by her hair was removed and used to swat hers away. She jumped slightly, looking up at him, confused. “Did I say you could touch it? Did you ask for permission?” He asked, causing her to shake her head quickly. “I-I’m sorry, please, can I suck your cock?” She asked meekly, her hands intertwined with each other in her lap. He scoffed and leaked forward, placing his thumb and middle finger on her chin gently, “I’m sorry ‘what’?” He asked, tilting his head up and waiting for her answer, eyes still locked on hers.

“I’m sorry.. F-Father. Please, can I suck your cock?” She asked once more, to which he smiled softly and nodded. “Very good girl.” He cooed, straightening his posture and placing a large hand on the back of her head, gently guiding her towards his now leaking hard on. Her plush lips parted as his precum made contact with them, the fat tip of his cock beginning to enter her mouth. She could barely fit the tip; did he expect her to take the whole thing? He grunted softly as he pushed himself into her tight mouth, “Take both of your hands and start to jerk me off while you suck. Understood?” He said, to which she moaned gently in agreement. She raised her hands in a similar fashion as before, and wrapped them around his cock. She started to bob her head slowly as she twisted her hands around his huge dick, looking up at him in the process. Her hands barely fit around his length, and so far she was only able to fit about four inches into her mouth. His breath hitched while she worked, his head rolling back as he squeezed his eyes shut.

He began to thrust into her mouth slowly, matching her rhythm. She gagged quietly, but stubbornly refused to take a breather. Spit began to pool in the corners of her lips, then started to drip down her chin and onto her chest. Tears started to well in her eyes, her cheeks getting red from the lack of oxygen. He looked down and chuckled in a degrading manner, “Look at you, getting what you wanted,” He sighed, which earned him a harsh look from the girl. He smirked and placed his hands on either side of her head, “I hope you prepared yourself. I never said it was going to be easy to save you.”

Before she could react, he began thrusting faster into her mouth, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut and gag. He tightened his grip on either side of her head, his long fingers getting tangled in strands of her hair. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and more spit pooled from her mouth down to her chest, and eventually down to her thighs. Her hands found themselves on either one of his thighs as if she was bracing herself for each thrust. “That’s it, good girl,” He huffed between breaths, “Take it. Take all of it.” He groaned, his breath hitching. He continued to use her throat as a fleshlight, disregarding whether or not she had to breathe. He was full of anger, now lust; and he was going to make sure that she new it.

The sound of gagging mixed with hot spit hitting the cold marble floor echoed through the church. Her throat began to get sore from the constant stretching and contracting from his length. Her jaw felt as if it was starting to lock, whimpers and soft sobs managing to escape her airway. He put both hands on the back of her head, shoving her down to take as much of his length as she physically could, and held her there. He let out a loud, guttural moan as he did this, “Oh, that’s it. Right there - Keep it there like a good girl,” He panted, strands of his hair falling in front of his face as he looked down at her. His face was painted with pleasure, his cheeks red, his eyes squinted slightly as he watched her. She coughed on his cock, her nails slowly digging into his thighs as she struggled against his strong grip. With a loud grunt, he pulled her off and let her breathe. She fell back on her ass, coughing and panting. He eyes locked onto the altar ahead for a moment, until he looked back down at her. He would do his own repenting when he was done with hers, that was for sure.

He stepped forward, towering over her once again. “You’re not done yet.” He growled lowly, grabbing a fistful of hair from the back of her head with one hand, and using the other to jerk himself off. The excess spit on his cock began to leak down his wrist as he pulled her face close to his length once again. She looked up at him, still panting, practically pleading with him. “Tell me what you want, tell me you want me to come all over that pretty face.” He huffed, taking time between every other stroke to rub his cock on her sore cheeks, taunting her even more. “Please,” She stammered, “Please, cum on my face; please, Father, please,” She continued, looking up at him with wide eyes. The look she gave him almost made him blow his load right then and there, causing his cock to twitch as he clenched his jaw and watched the girl below him, nodding as if silently telling her to continue. “I-I need you to cum all over me, please, please cum for me, Father!” She stammered, grinning as he sped up with jerking himself off. She loved to watch him crumble in front of her, and whether or not he felt like he had his way with her, she knew she was winning the so-called reformed man over.

“Open your mouth. Now.” He ordered quickly. She obliged, opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out, softly laughing as she did so. It only brought him closer to the edge, watching and listening to her beg for it. With a loud grunt, his head rolled back and he squeezed his eyes shut, shooting his hot seed into the girls mouth and onto the rest of her face. He let out strained moans as he did so, his stroking slowing down significantly. He looked back down at her, attempting to catch his breath. She leaned forward, gently lapping up the rest of his cum off of the tip of his cock, earning a satisfactory moan from him.

After several moments, he let go of her and backed up. He leaned down and pulled his briefs and pants up, zipping them and fastening his buckle. He walked past her and towards the altar, grabbing a spare cloth that was laying around and walking back to her. He handed it to her and looked down at her as she took it, clearing his throat. She wiped her face off as he spoke, “Clean yourself up and leave.” He said coldly, to which she smirked. She stood up and tossed the rag to the side, landing on a nearby pew and earning a disapproving look from him. “What’s wrong, Father? Am I still tainted?” She grinned, flattening out any wrinkles on her shirt. He looked her up and down, disgusted with both her and himself. “You got what you wanted. Don’t come back here again.” He said blankly, stepping away from her and walking towards the altar. She laughed and began walking to the same mahogany doors that let her in an hour prior, her shoes once again clicking against the marble floor.

He sighed as she opened the heavy doors; the only light that peered in were from the streetlights a bit farther ahead, illuminating the building and streets for the night sky above. He looked back at her from his post, standing in front of the cross he was sure to spend several hours in front of begging for forgiveness. She looked back at him as well, locking eyes with him from across the building as her hand held open a door to walk out of. She smiled,

“I’ll make sure the next time I decide to sin, I’ll see you right away. See you soon, Father.”

[fxirybun]

Hi, if you may have time I would like to participate in your dinamic :)

intials / nickname / first name: V T M

your zodiac sign (either your sun sign or your big 3): Leo

I your most used emoji: 😭

I tell me the name of your DR s/o and their respective reality they're in: Arthur Pendragon, Merlin BBC series

Hope you have a good day wherever you are!

hello there VTM ! thank you berry much for participating in my ask game ヾ(◍´▿`◍)ﾉﾞ

ෆ⸒⸒ his ten (10) green flags

𐙚 the type of man who will always stand by you , no matter how tough the circumstances can be. he's also the type who would go to any length to protect you , even risking his own life.

𐙚 once you gain arthur's trust , you’ll never going to doubt his loyalty. he's someone who's devoted to the people he cares about and would never betray you.

𐙚 he doesn't mind listening to your side of the story , making sure that you feel heard and respected. if he ever wrongs you , he’ll be quick to make it right because fairness is at the core of his values.

𐙚 arthur will treat you with the utmost respect. he believes in nurturing those he loves and will always put your needs and feelings at the forefront.

𐙚 you'll never have to worry about arthur shirking his responsibilities or taking things lightly. he can be reliable at times , working hard to provide stability both physically and emotionally.

𐙚 if arthur makes a mistake or hurts you , he’ll be humble enough to admit it and learn from it. you’ll see him grow and become more understanding. he won’t shy away from improving himself and will always try to be a better person.

𐙚 even if he has moments of doubt , he’ll come to rely on your advice and support, knowing that you have his back.

𐙚 arthur will always make you feel safe. he takes the well-being of his loved ones seriously , and you’ll feel secure in his presence. he’ll do everything he can to protect you and keep you from harm.

𐙚 he'll work hard to make his relationship with others strong. arthur is the type of man who is determined to make things work , no matter the obstacles. he doesn't give up very easily and would even do the means to fight for those he deeply cares about.

𐙚 arthur will be able to forgive you when you make mistakes , and he’ll expect the same in return. he's not the type to hold grudges as he values reconciliation. if ever there’s a disagreement , he’ll want to talk things through and move past it , ensuring peace and understanding between you and him.

ෆ⸒⸒ his ten (10) red flags

𐙚 arthur may come across as prideful or acts like he knows best. this arrogance could make you feel like your opinions aren’t always valued , especially if he’s too caught up in his own perspective.

𐙚 he can be very set in his ways , which means you could find yourself in frustrating arguments where he refuses to budge , even when he’s clearly wrong.

𐙚 there would be some cases wherein arthur's sense of justice can turn into criticism. he might judge you too harshly if he feels you’ve done something wrong , expecting you to live up to his strict moral code.

𐙚 he can be slow to embrace change or new ways of thinking. If you bring up ideas or beliefs that challenge his worldview , he might dismiss them or be closed off from your perspective.

𐙚 arthur's impatience can show up when he’s stressed or frustrated. he might push you to act or make decisions faster than you’re comfortable with , or he could get annoyed when things don’t go according to plan.

𐙚 arthur can be emotionally distant when it comes to expressing his feelings. he may be struggling to open up about what’s really going on inside of him , leaving you to guess how he’s feeling.

𐙚 he's deeply tied to his upbringing and traditions , which means he might hold onto outdated ideas or beliefs.

𐙚 when pushed to his limits , arthur can have a quick temper. his anger , though often short-lived , can flare up unexpectedly , making him say or do things in the heat of the moment that he might regret later.

𐙚 arthur tends to be guarded especially when it comes to showing his vulnerabilities.

𐙚 beneath his confidence , arthur sometimes struggles with self-doubt , particularly about whether he’s living up to his potential. this insecurity might make him overly defensive when criticized or cause him to seek constant reassurance.

fxiry : i hope this post helps ! feedback is required ^^

[cloveswifey]

Forget

Pairings: Sarah Cameron x Fem!Reader

Warnings: suggestive smut, arguing, swearing, crying, teasing, kissing, birthday forgetting.

Type: Angst - Fluff - suggestive smut

Words: 1.1k

Y/n and Sarah had been dating for a little over a year, and things had been going well. Of course, they had their ups and downs, but they always managed to work through their issues.

However, there was one issue that they just couldn't seem to get past: Sarah had forgotten y/n's birthday.

It wasn't that Sarah didn't care about y/n, but she had been going through a rough patch at work and had been completely consumed by it. She had barely had time to think about anything else, let alone y/n's birthday.

Y/n, on the other hand, had been looking forward to her birthday for weeks. She had planned a big celebration with all of their friends, and she had even taken the day off work so they could spend it together. But when Sarah didn't even acknowledge her birthday, y/n was hurt and angry.

The argument started off small, with

y/n asking Sarah if she had remembered what day it was.

Y/n asked in a soft tone, "Babe, what's the day today?"

As Sarah remained engrossed in her phone, y/n's irritation mounted.

"Sar," y/n repeated, seeking her attention.

Sarah looked up, barely noticing y/n's presence and asked, "Hmm, what's up, baby?"

Suppressing her annoyance, y/n took a deep breath and asked, "Do you know what day it is?"

Sarah chuckled, clueless, "Um, Wednesday?"

Y/n couldn't believe that Sarah had forgotten such an important day.

Y/n let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head in disbelief. "Seriously?" she muttered, causing Sarah to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"What?..."

"It's April 15th," y/n said, her voice tinged with disappointment, as she stared down at her feet.

Sarah furrowed her eyebrows, still not understanding the significance of the day. "What's so special about th—" she started, but her words trailed off as the realization hit her. "Shit," she breathed out.

Sarah tried to explain that she had been under a lot of stress at work, but y/n wasn't having it.

"I haven't forgotten, I've just been under a lot of stress!" Sarah argued defensively.

Y/n let out a sarcastic chuckle and shook her head. "That's literally the fucking definition of forgetting," she said, not buying Sarah's excuse.

She felt like Sarah didn't care about them or their relationship.

"It's like you don't even care anymore!" Y/n yelled as Sarah scoffed at her statement.

"What? Is work more important than me now? Huh? Is that it! Works more important than me your own girlfriend." Y/n chucked.

The argument escalated, with both of them saying things they didn't mean.

Y/n shook her head in disbelief. "I bet you're screwing some whore back at the office, because that's what sluts do," she accused, her anger boiling over.

Sarah's eyes widened in shock and hurt. "Fuck you, y/n! That's not fair and you know it!" she cried, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Y/n wasn't having it. "No! What's not fair is my own girlfriend forgetting about my birthday," she fired back.

Sarah scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. "Oh, like you're some saint!" she retorted. "You're a needy bitch. Always demanding and expecting shit! Using my fucking credit card."

Y/n let out a scoff of frustration. "I don't want your fucking money!" she exclaimed. "You keep shoving it down my throat! Every time I try to pay for something, you slap that black Amex down before I can even get my wallet out. So don't act like I'm some gold-digging whore who only dates you for free shit!"

Sarah's jaw clenched as she replied, "Then let's see how you do without the free shit. The constant restaurant dinners, the Ubers downtown, putting all your drinks on my tab, the way you just happen to remember you need gas when I'm in your car. We'll fix that issue real quick," she shouted.

They both knew that they were saying things they didn't mean, but they couldn't seem to stop themselves.

Y/n let out a scoff and turned to face Sarah, "What’s that supposed to mean?" she asked, looking into her eyes. But Sarah seemed distraught, tears streaming down her face.

"We're toxic, can't you see it? Look at us, we're falling apart," Sarah said with a shrug.

Y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are you saying you want to break up?" she asked, her voice trailing off as she looked down at the floor.

Sarah quickly shook her head, "No, no, that's not what I meant," she said, reaching out to touch Y/n's arm. "I love you, but we need to address our problems. We argue about the smallest things, like your birthday for example. We're better than this."

Y/n let out a sigh and looked up at Sarah, who lifted her chin up with her finger. They both knew that something had to change if they wanted their relationship to survive.

Y/n leaned forward and pressed a small kiss on the corner of Sarah's lips, "I love you too," she murmured.

However, Sarah chuckled, “you missed” and took hold of Y/n's cheeks before smashing her lips against y/n’s.

Their tongues slowly intertwined as they kissed, with Sarah's breath lightly tickling Y/n's cheeks.

As the passionate kiss intensified, Y/N and Sarah stumbled their way towards the living room.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, Y/N pushed Sarah onto the couch and straddled her waist before locking lips again.

With both tongues engaged in a playful battle for control, Y/N's hips began to move quickly, creating a pleasurable friction against Sarah's body.

Eventually, they pulled away, realizing that their fight wasn't worth it.

"I'm sorry, I love you so much," Sarah said as their foreheads rested against each other.

"I love you too, and I didn't mean what I said," Y/n replied, giving Sarah another light peck on the lips.

Despite Y/N's initiative, Sarah had a different plan in mind. She flipped Y/N over and resumed kissing her passionately. It became evident that the couple was in for a long and steamy night together.

Together, they made a promise to communicate better and be there for each other no matter what. Although they weren't perfect, they were willing to work on their relationship and make it stronger than ever before.

[night-market-if]

unrelated to my "HOLY SHIT" ask from the day before (i'll get back to that lol), i do wanna talk a lil about Hazel if you choose to take her with you to see Caliban because it gave me pause. And i didnt know if anyone else had brought it up so it's a lil late but

Spoilers (for if people didn't do it i suppose): Idk, i actually was very surprised that Hazel had such a strong reaction to it. Only because whether you condemn Caliban or not, Hazel is willing to comfort you either way. ...As long as she wasn't there.

It's very fair that Hazel did not want to go, and that it was unfair to push her boundary when she's uncomfortable. But i actually found it frustrating and hypocritical that Hazel did not express any issue with it as long as she didn't have to see it with her own eyes.

I don't think that's a bad thing to be clear! I find that makes Hazel a very well rounded character. Often, it's very easy to excuse or look the other way from the questionable and morally dubious choices our loved ones make, so long as we don't have to witness it. It's very flawed, and human.

But, to me personally, the narrative seems to be saying that MC is very much in the wrong for pushing Hazel when she didn't need to be, and that they very much want to gain her forgiveness. I...did not feel the same lol.

It felt frustrating because, MC thus far has had to make very scary and difficult choices to save a world whose people are indifferent or ignorant to it dying. All the hard choices that were placed on their shoulders alone. And Hazel can get angry and feel hurt and betrayed that MC would push her beyond her comfort, because she has that option. MC does not.

But with everything going on, there wasn't a chance to discuss the situation, or even the status of the relationship (because Hazel has distanced herself from MC). So i was wondering if this would be something explored in Book 2.

Hazel is one of the sweetest, kindest characters in the story, so it makes pushback against her choices difficult because i dont want to be callous to her. but then we've seen what she's capable of, and she's not someone to be trifled with, she is not above making morally questionable choices after all. Because is sacrificing the spirits of the alley any different from sacrificing Caliban?

I hope this didn't come off as rude, I just wanted to hear your thoughts on this.

I have been WAITING for someone to call me on this. :) I think a lot of people just didn't take that route so I don't have a lot of readers on it.

So, yes, you are correct that it isn't so much the action itself that makes Hazel upset, but that her boundary got pushed and she is a part of it. And yes, it has not been able to really be addressed between MC and Hazel because there is just so much stuff going on that their relationship kind of got put on the back burner (because it is supposed to be a relationship thing. I think a code got messed for some people). Now, that being said, chapter 12, you do start to address it and that is one of the things that the MC can call her out on. MC can express sorrow for maybe pushing their boundary, but for Hazel to constantly be in support of MC's boundary being pushed and expect no anger in return, is a hard thing to maybe stomach.

I am hoping to have it one of two ways for that conversation.

You understand it. You are apologetic. Hazel responds.

You understand it in theory, but you are also hurt and frustrated by her reaction, just as she is with yours. Hazel responds.

I'm not sure how Hazel's response to either of those is going to be yet because I haven't written it.

But, the main idea of what I have there, while it is going to be expanded on and cleaned up in the final edit, I do think is fundamentally going to stay the same. Hazel spent most of her life with her boundaries being crossed in horrendous ways. She also spent a long time turning a blind eye to what the people she loved did that were not so great. This moment, is far more about past issues than the MC themselves. But, Hazel's anger comes off I think differently than other RO's and she almost gives no room to talk. She hides. She has been doing so for a long time by not leaving that shop too often.

It is a character flaw for sure and one that will be focused on in Book 2. Don't worry, that is not going to be dropped and I think if the scene is not concluded in this book, it will be one of the first that is dealt with come the beginning of Book 2.

Thank you so much for this question. I love these in depth character explorations and going back and forth on them.

🪷✨🪷✨ If you want to support me 🪷 ✨🪷✨ Demo 🌿 Patreon 🌿 Ko-fi 🌿Discord

[biblioflyer]

Picard s3e10 "The Last Generation"

I laughed, I cried, I cheered, but I'm not free of conflicts.

The artificial constraints of a 10 episode season are something I really feel acutely. So I'll start off with an acknowledgment: if OG Picard fans are furious, I get it. I don't share your anger, but I do understand it.

Spoilers ahead.

I broadly agree with the creaky older fan sentiment that in many ways Season Three is what Season One should have been. Primarily in that the absence of the rest of the main characters and centering Picard and Picard only and, to some extent, Data, was a disservice to the rest of the TNG ensemble.

A flaw that was rectified in Season Three. However, by rectifying it in Season Three and then committing to the story they were going to tell in the amount of minutes they were going to tell it in, a grim sort of triage inevitably was going to take place. The victims overwhelmingly were the characters and storylines of Seasons One and Two.

That was neither kind nor fair.

I won't pretend I didn't love this season. But I also was aware of and frustrated by what was missing because I am committed to the ideals I started this blog on: these are my self conscious reactions, reflections, and introspections rather than objective truths I live and die by and demand others validate, lest they be deemed "not real fans."

Now I myself will not be buying a ticket for the Matalas hate train. I think there was an awareness that a lot was being left on the cutting room floor to cater to fans like...well, me, and an attempt was made to offer an overture to a possible sequel series not unlike a "sorry for your loss" bouquet.

Should you view that as a fair consolation prize for only addressing Seven and Raffi's relationship with a couple of quips and an action movie one liner? Or literally forgetting Elnor?

Were I in your place, I probably wouldn't. But I sincerely hope we get that sequel show so that proper amends can be made.

Hopefully it will also include Worf so that the DS9ers can get justice for Jadzia.

Although, I am a bit pessimistic that its going to happen even with the overwhelmingly positive reception. Two overlapping ship focused shows seems unlikely unless Enterprise-G is a metaplot driven narrative show while Strange New Worlds is episodic with light sprinkles of meta. A prospect that I am kind of meh on. Season Three proves that you can do a season long narrative and it not get too bloated or convoluted and deliver a satisfying finish, but I don't know that its enough for me to trust the concept of the 10 episode version of a classic Trek two parter going forward. Five times burned, twice shy.

For those keeping score, that's seven seasons of serialized Trek with five that I think were not well executed overall, not unforgivably so, but they definitely had a clumsy adolescence as their shows matured. I liked Discovery season 4 quite a bit. I'm not on the "Discovery sucks" anti-hype train either, but I think the show has rather clearly been showing its work as it has struggled season after season to figure out its own unique identity and to balance that identity with the expectations of the broader Star Trek franchise, navigating the hellscape of the fandom and trying to figure out which parts have valid criticisms and which are misanthropes who are allergic to other people experiencing joy: and its been a messy process.

What also steals some of my euphoria from the ending of Picard is the announcement of the Section 31 movie.

I love Michelle Yeoh, I even like the character of Georgiou, but I don't trust anyone who has been involved in Trek to date, not even Ron Moore or Robert Hewitt Wolfe, to not resuscitate vile late 90s to mid-oughts nihilism and uncritical worship of "hard men making hard choices because the good are too effete and squeamish to do what must be done."

I know, I know, its negative for a Star Trek apologia blog but I hate Section 31. That's the only thing I'll ever gatekeep. Its a violent refutation of the core premises of Star Trek: that reason and decency win in the end and the endless fascination with constructing scenarios where characters have no other choice but to do near genocides, assassination, and other grimderp shenanigans really infuriates me. There are multiple franchises where I would accept that with zero qualms: Babylon 5, Star Wars, Farscape, Stargate, Battlestar Galactica*, the Expanse etc. but they don't have that same core premise that good wins because good is actually how you win.

*Although it got REAL tedious REAL quick because of how excessively Moore's Galactica leaned into this. Which is incidentally kind of why even though I admire the man, I kind of want to see him and Star Trek keep 500 feet from each other at all times. The guy is way too into torturing series leads. Save that for O'Brien, he lives on pain.

So, to recap.

Dear S1/S2 fans. I adored this ending: it was everything I love about TNG right down to Picard saving the day through warmth and decency. But I'm sorry you got screwed. This is not a zero sum game to me. I think there was a way we could have all been happy and it sucks that wasn't a priority.

[freifraufischer]

It's been a rough month for the Pokemon Company and I thought I'd give a summary for those of you sane people who are not obsessed with collecting little (and sometimes very big) creatures.

I'm not one to try and set developers on fire when something isn't to my taste and in fact I stopped playing Pokemon Go when I found that it wasn't making me happy anymore. With that preamble I want to say this is not a call for action or a condemnation ... I'm not here to tell you how the Pokemon Company is the richest franchise in the world and they should do better. Nor am I here to excuse what in some cases were stunning decisions.

In background: The flagship games of the 9th generation of the Pokemon franchise were released late last year and while I adore them and they may be my favorite Pokemon Games ever they have some very serious flaws. There are frame rate and performance issues. Those issues may be related to how old the hardware of the Nintendo Switch is and may be related to the fact that the ocean around Paldea is literally bigger than the planet earth and the skybox is bigger than the sun. The switch is old hardware but I don't really think it's fair to expect my hand held game console to render celestial sized objects. The games has many charming qualities but it also sacrifices some things that have been expected from the franchise over the years. You can enter very few buildings and most of the NPCs which often had wonderful bits of characterization in past games wander around with single speech bubbles like "I need a new notebook" or "I wish I had a lechonk."

There have been three patches since game release and the only seeming attempt to address any of the performance issues was a note on the second patch that said they were removing pokemon and NPCs from some parts of the map to reduce issues. If it did anything I didn't really notice but as I play entirely on hand held I don't think I'm a very good judge of it. The performance issues never really impacted my enjoyment of the games but I do understand why for others it is unacceptable. Their frustration doesn't negate my fun and my fun doesn't make their frustration invalid.

The 1.2.0 Patch was dropped 3 months ago to coincide with the inevitable announcement of DLC. And as one should probably expect with the painful technological history of this game there were two very significant issues. 1.2.0 came with the introduction of an ingame event introducing two new Pokemon that were part of the DLC. Some players who were online and in game when the patch dropped encountered this event but because the pokemon didn't exist instead they caught a bad egg which they could not delete and which prevented them from catching one of these special event pokemon. At the same time a very small number of people encountered a save corruption glitch that seemed to wipe out many hours of progress from months of playing. Now to stress these save corruption incidents were extremely extremely rare given the number of players of this game. So rare that it seems that it was essentially impossible to replicate. Content creators on youtube and people on twitter were quick to blame a feature that connected Pokemon Go to Pokemon Scarlet and Violet but a significant portion of the people who had the safe file corruption never connected to Go and the issue hasn't really been a topic of discussion in Go only players who used the feature very heavily. After a number of weeks Nintendo appears to have found a way to restore files for people who contact them and there are no reports of this glitch from 1.3.0 onward (where we are now as of the writing of this).

The save file corruption issue caused a lot of fear in the community (remember these are collecting games and as there is no cloud saving at the moment there are no backups--more on that later). The general state of the games on release have left many lingering frustrations and anger among some of the most intense fans. Oh and while this is not related to this post except tangentially the people running Pokemon Go decided to anger their player base with deeply painful and unpopular changes dressed up with language that amounts to "we're doing this for your own good." There is a complicated relationship between the developer of Pokemon Go and the Pokemon Company in general and that's for another time ...

Woooeh that was a lot of background.

So what could have happened in the last few weeks.... that could possibly make this worse? Well three almost unrelated things ...

It started with the competitive/esports side of things. The Japanese and South Korean national championships and qualifiers for the Pokemon World Championships in August were plagued with bugs. Some tools were not working and some matches were decided by who experienced fewer bugs. The events are having to be replayed and some worlds invites were revoked and the people told they had to qualify again--including a former world champion. Messing up the national championships in two of your largest markets because your game now famous for it's bugs and performance issues was certainly not the news they wanted.

Then late last week one of their weekly raid events went awry. While people wait for DLC to drop (vaguely sometime because the only date we have is Fall 2023 for the first part) the thing that keeps things active in the game are special events where unusual pokemon can be caught. It so happened that last week the featured pokemon were special in that they don't normally appear in raids and have some ingame unique qualities to them. The easiest way to explain this is that there is a crafting system in Scarlet/Violet where when you kill or catch a pokemon it gives you some crafting material. You catch a Pikachu it gives you Pikachu fur. Let us not dwell on the idea of how you got Pikachu's fur from it as no good can come of pondering some things. The loot drop pool for raid pokemon also include this crafting material for pokemon that are within the game's pokedex. Now most of the really special pokemon in these limited time events are not within the games pokedex so the game doesn't try to generate the crafting material.

Well for the first time last week the raid pokemon were from a sub group of pokemon within the game that do not drop crafting material but the apparently automatically generated raid reward pool... tried to drop the non existent item.

And if you were lucky enough to get None x 2... your game crashed.

They pulled the event raids within a few hours and we have no word on when we'll see them again (and it has also put on hold future raid events the next one would have been announced a few days ago).

The third part of this triple whammy has to do with a service called Pokemon Home. Now remember Pokemon is at it's heart a collecting game and you can carry your old friends from game to game and still preserve (if not always use) a pokemon you caught long ago in a different game. It's a feature that isn't useful to many casual players but for the most loyal of the franchises players it is deeply emotionally important. There have been many versions of the storage service for this purpose and the most recent one is a subscription service that costs USD 15.99 a year. Historically Home compatibility has not been available at game launch because the developers want you to play the game not just dump your years of pokemon in immediately. Generation 8's Sword and Shield took around 4 months to get compatibility but for the last titles of Generation 8 Briliant Diamond/Shining Pearl and Legends Arceus it took longer (a full 6 months for BDSP).

Compatibility with Home for Scarlet and Violet were slated for "Spring 2023" (though an English language Pokemon video presentation said "Early 2023" but that may simply be a translation variation). Either way people are inpatient understandably in my mind given that this is a paid subscription service and given the game's now history of save corruption with no public explanation of what caused it or if it was fixed. The community's tolerance of the wait ran out a while ago... and last week (before the raid glitch happened) a date was announced. We would have Home Compatibility on 5/24 with all these features.

The next day--after the raid glitch happened but likely unrelated to it--the Pokemon twitter announced that they'd made a mistake and that it wasn't coming on the 24th. The date was "yet to be announced" (let's not dwell on people who announced something telling you that it wasn't announced when they were pulling the announcement because Franz Kafka died 99 years ago and he never met a Pikachu or a video game developer in his life).

And that's where we are.

When will the raids be turned back on? Who knows. When will Home compatibility come? "Soon". Will these games ever get performance patches.... never.