#anyway he was pissed at me because a: i refused to go and be miserable + infect my relatives. and b: because i wouldn't MAKe a sacRIFiCe

[toastspirit]

while i do not like my job, holy shit i am so glad that i finally have a plausible excuse to get out of my extended family's yearly gatherings

[lewistoferrari]

kyle seducing the cold detached woman who's levels above his station 😔

yeah so i wrote way too much

want

pairing: kyle garrick x fem!reader cw: third person pov, hints to childhood trauma, therapy is mentioned, smut

it doesn’t help that he has a big fat crush on her. and she knows this, but couldn’t give two fucks.

kyle has never had to work this hard to get someone into his bed. he’d barely turn on the charm and would still have them dropping their panties. but this woman in particular, she made him realize it wasn’t going to be easy and he’d have to work for it.

kyle starts giving her flowers with cute little notes attached and she just chucks them into the trash because, “i don’t like roses, garrick. stop sending me flowers.”

kyle does not listen to her at all though. every bouquet he buys gets thrown away, much to his dismay. she’ll never tell him this, but one day she ended up giving a vase of flowers to one of her girlfriends because they were far too pretty to be in someone’s trash bin. eventually, kyle stops sending flowers and steps his game up.

he starts leaving chocolate on her desk, her favorite brands at that. it’s the fancy and expensive kind too.

at first, the chocolate just sits on her desk untouched. she would rather eat a jean jacket than to admit she finds it kind of cute that kyle refuses to give up. her icy exterior begins to dissolve a little when he starts popping up with snacks, jumbo crossword puzzles, and books for her to read.

“i’m still not entertaining whatever you think is going to happen between us, garrick. keep your delusions to yourself,” she says flatly, but thanks him and accepts his gifts anyway.

kyle just laughs and says, “we’ll see.”

his response bothers her for the rest of the day and she can’t figure out why.

her heart softens even more when her birthday arrives and she’s stuck in her office doing paperwork. she’s absolutely miserable about it, until kyle knocks on her door, her words getting stuck in her throat when she sees the cake and balloons he has for her.

“why would you do all of this!?” she asks hotly, once she’s regained her composure. she doesn’t even know why she’s so upset with him in the first place. he’s just being nice.

“because you deserve it, and you shouldn’t have to spend your birthday alone.”

she wants to rage at him some more. she wants to throw him out and tell him to never come back because somehow he’s managed to worm his way into her heart. she wants to kick him in his shin for making her fall for him. but because she can’t bring herself to do any of that, she lets him stay to sing happy birthday to her.

and if kyle’s visits become more frequent after that, she can’t find it in herself to complain. his presence makes her happy.

kyle can be a very persistent man when he needs to be, but he chooses to believe she’ll change her mind about him eventually. she’s been opening up to him more, and he considers that progress.

he remembers the first time he met her. she was a pretty thing with a no nonsense attitude. he knew he was down bad for this woman when he’d come to her defense whenever he heard people calling her a bitch around base.

and today was no different. she was well aware of the names people called her, but she really didn’t give a shit. “it doesn’t hurt me,” she says to kyle, who’s currently holding a recruit by the collar of his shirt.

he’d been within earshot of the little bastard addressing his soon to be sweetheart by several unpleasant names that made his blood boil.

kyle is more than pissed off, especially after she orders him to let the young recruit go. “you hear the names they call you, the things they say. and yet you do fuck all about it,” he snaps before sighing. he’s not mad at her though. he’s just a little frustrated because she won’t so anything about it. he refuses to believe that nothing bothers her.

she stares at kyle in shock. he’s never spoken to her like this before, and she doesn’t like it one bit. so she tells him to get out.

but unfortunately for her, kyle doesn’t budge. “nah,” he says, before taking a seat on the chair in front of her desk. “i think i’ll sit here a little longer. you can finish your work, i won’t bother you.”

she just huffs at him, then picks her pen up and resumes her work.

when she’s done, kyle is still there. he has his earbuds in and he’s laughing quietly at something on his phone. she just knows he’s on tiktok. probably watching some video about a cat. when she finds herself staring too hard and enjoying his laughter just a bit too much, she nudges him under the desk with her foot.

kyle pulls his earbuds out and sits up straight. “you finished, love?”

love?

it’s the first time he’s called her that, and it wrecks her a little bit. i don’t deserve him, she thinks to herself.

she just nods silently in response to his question, not trusting herself to speak and only doing so when kyle offers to walk her to her quarters. if he’s surprised when she says yes, he doesn’t show it. he just ushers her out of the office and down the hallway.

when they arrive at her door, she thanks him. kyle just waves her off and says, “anything for you, sweetheart.”

“stop calling me that,” she huffs. “and stop doing whatever this is.”

she watches as kyle’s brows furrow in confusion. “what is it that you think i’m doing?”

“if you wanted to get into my pants, you could have just asked.” she actually laughs when kyle stares at her in surprise. “and don’t act so shocked, garrick. i’ve known what you wanted since day one.”

“do you?” kyle asks as he steps into her space, watching in amusement as she fumbles to come up with an answer. he knew she would have told him to fuck off when they first met. “if you think sex is all i want, then you’re wrong. i want you.”

she’ll lie about it for the rest of her life if anyone ever asks her how she responded to kyle’s statement. instead of tearing him apart with her words, she gets a little teary eyed, much to her embarrassment.

“you shouldn’t want me,” she whimpers. “i haven’t been very nice to you.”

kyle just shrugs and lets her know that he likes a challenge every now and then. he doesn’t let her respond. he bids her goodnight with a kiss on her forehead, then gently shoves her into her room.

kyle walks her to her room again the next evening, and this time, he bullies her into inviting him in. she almost had a fit when he climbed into her bed and demanded she cuddle with him. at first, the word no was at the tip of her tongue, but then the intrusive thoughts won that round.

she’d struggled with how intimate it was to have kyle’s arms around her, not wanting him to touch her because she knew it would shatter the walls she’d carefully built over the years. he took one look at her and told her to stop fighting her feelings. she’d almost snapped at him, until she saw the look in his eyes. she’d hurt him and herself if she told him no. so she surrendered herself to him completely.

“it’s just for tonight, you can go back to hating me tomorrow.”

her heart breaks when kyle says it so casually, as if he’s trying not to make it a big thing, when it absolutely is.

she’s never hated kyle a day in her life. she just doesn’t understand why he wants to be with someone as cold as her? why would he want to be with a woman who was so damn traumatized, she thought everyone who approached her had some ulterior motive. having an unpleasant childhood and learning not to trust anyone would do that to a person.

during a session, she spoke to her therapist about kyle. she even told the other woman about the gifts he gave her. he won’t leave me alone, she had complained.

have you asked him to leave you be?

well, no. but—

think about why that is.

she’d almost quit therapy that day. she didn’t want to think about kyle and the way he made her feel.

after the life she’d lived, she promised to never let anyone get close enough to see how vulnerable she could be. she was convinced they would just take advantage. so she hardened her heart and became more frigid as the years went by. sometimes when she looked in the mirror, she didn’t see an ounce of her past self.

“you’re tense.”

her body gives a little surprised jolt at the sound of kyle’s voice. “i’m sorry,” she mumbles, while trying to relax in his arms.

“what’s on your mind?” kyle asks, before pressing a kiss to her forehead and stroking a hand down her back.

she shrugs and tells him not to worry about it, even though she knows it’s already too late for that.

“don’t do that. there’s something bothering you, sweetheart.”

she sighs softly, before lifting her head off his chest. “you’re right, but i don’t want to talk about it right now. just hold me please.”

and it’s truly a blur after that, not knowing how she ended up on her back with kyle’s fingers intertwined with hers and his cock buried deep in her pussy. he’s already syphoned one orgasm out of her with his tongue, and now he wants to have her creaming around his cock this time.

she’s not sure what she’s gotten herself into. because when kyle gives her the filthiest grind against her pussy, his leaking cock pressing up against her g-spot, her eyes roll so far back into her head, she’s surprised they don’t get stuck. a pleasure filled sob spills from her lips when kyle does it again and again until she’s clawing at his back and wailing so loud, he has to quickly smother her cries with his mouth.

he knows she’ll probably never live it down if someone walks by the room and hears how loud she can be when she’s getting fucked within an inch of her life.

kyle actually has the audacity to pause mid thrust to say, “damn, i didn’t know you could sing like that.”

he laughs when she gives him a whiny shut up and fuck me please. he watches the way her scowl disappears when he pulls out, then bullies his cock back into her drooling pussy.

“fuck, pussy’s so tight and wet around my dick, just gushing,” kyle hisses out with a roll of his hips, eyes almost crossing when she tightens around his cock. “you’re gonna strangle me to death. christ.”

“i’m sorry,” she manages to choke out through the overwhelming sensation of his cock hitting her sweet spot repeatedly. she was in fucking heaven.

“don’t be. you’re doin’ so good for me, sweetheart,” kyle croons in her ear. “you’re takin’ me so well. gonna have you fallin’ apart on this dick every night.”

“please.” his words are entirely too much for her handle.

“please what?” kyle coos, as his cock drags against her spongy walls. “gonna see how good you’ll be when i stretch that ass out with my fingers first, and then on my cock.”

the cry she emits when her senses white out completely and all she can feel is the sheer pleasure of her orgasm, is loud enough to be heard out in the hallway.

kyle doesn’t slow down when he tells her to give him one more. she wants to call him greedy, but she’s too busy moaning and writhing underneath him while he rubs her clit in sync with his thrusts. when she cums again, kyle is filling her pussy up to the brim with his seed and moaning her name.

kyle has to force her out of bed after he suggests they shower and change the sheets. she whines about being tired, but lets him guide her to the bathroom anyway.

she spirals a little when she’s sure she kyle is sleeping. she doesn’t want him to hear her weeping. and the second a pitiful whimper escapes her mouth, she’s out of the bed and locking herself in the bathroom, where she can cry freely.

she tries to avoids kyle after that, but he’s not having it.

he won’t let her run from this. when she tries to deny it, he calls her out on it and lets her know that they’ll be having a lengthy discussion when he gets back. “my teammates and i are leaving base. gotta put an end to some shit none of us want to deal with, and i’m not sure when i’ll be back, sweetheart.”

during the three months that kyle is gone, she’s missing him more than she thought she would. phone calls and video calls aren’t enough anymore. he tries to soothe her by telling her he’ll be seeing her soon, but she cries anyway.

it’s only then that she comes to a startling realization.

she finally tells her therapist what she’s been wanting to tell kyle for weeks.

i think i love him. no, i know i love him.

when she sees kyle again, she launches herself at him immediately, much to everyone’s surprise, because since when was kyle dating anyone.

soap, price, and ghost can’t help but to stare at her and kyle in wonder. she’s clutching at kyle, while crying her eyes out and telling him how much she loves him and how much she misses him. eyebrows raise when she drags him into a kiss that’s damn near pornographic.

kyle beams at her when he pulls away from the kiss, before he pulls her in for a soft peck and a hug that leaves her a little breathless.

and leave it up to him to ruin the moment when he says, “so, about that talk.”

she just groans and lets him drag her across the tarmac.

-

a/n: thank you for sending this message and i hope you enjoy.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 4[*]

Azriel x Third-oldest-Archeron-sibling!reader

a/n: a truly beautiful friendship is always founded in chaos (it’s funny because of who Eris is in mythology)

Also, I would like to emphasise the bickering at the end is entirely whispered—enjoy

Warnings: Just general angst, sexual undertones, unjustly jealous!Azriel, swans (don’t even get me started on how scary they are, and don’t try to tell me otherwise if you haven’t been cornered by at least one)

Word Count: 6,618

-Part 3- -Part 5-

A voice is calling your name from somewhere: somewhere foggy, and distant.

A voice that really has no business interfering with the hot, male body that’s pressing you into the wall.

Large, playfully rough hands grip your hips, using his own to keep you pinned against the brickwork, groping your ass appreciatively.

You arch up into him, mouth opening over his own, tongue stroking and flicking. Fingers rake through his hair, turning it messy as you haul him closer. The lovely press of his cock against your abdomen, the ego-boosting sign of his appetite. He groans into your mouth, bucking his hips, and you drag the soft swell of your breasts over his chest. The cool night air scrambles beneath your skirts, making them flutter and billow, urging him closer.

The voice sounds again. Clearer; closer.

It’s strange how it sounds like—

The male body is forcibly torn off you, cold flushing your front, leaving the uncomfortable dig of brick into your backside. You blink away your haze, real world events crushing back down, slamming home when your eyes lock with sharp hazel. He’s clearly pissed. It’s probably the most emotion he’s ever shown to you.

How miserable.

“Did you forget we’re have dinner tonight?” He asks gruffly, hand still resting firmly over the male’s shoulder who’s looking warily between the two of you. It dawns on you what he’s just seen you doing, the position he’s caught you in; heat swallows your body whole. The shameful, humiliated type, and you force yourself to keep his gaze. Beg yourself not to hang your head.

“I’m not going,” you manage, eyes flicking away from his. “I already told Fey, and she said it was fine, so…” His brow narrows, attention piercing into you, judging. “They’re not compulsory, anyway,” you mumble, “so really I— there’s no reason for me to be at one.”

“It’s a family dinner. There’re plenty of reasons for you to be there.” His eyes flick to the male who just had you pressed between him and a wall, “unless something more important comes up.”

There’s no obvious sign, but he’s agitated. Irritated. Maybe a foul mood.

Azriel releases the male, eyes flicking over his shoulder—a sure dismissal. When the male refuses to leave, Azriel’s shadows thicken. Definitely a foul mood. “Is there something I can help you with?” He mutters sharply, piercing attention zeroing in on the male—Bas.

His golden eyes turn on you, peering warily, “who is this? You said you were on your own.” Heat washes down your spine, gaze flicking between them, wishing for the floor to open up under your feet. “He’s—nobody. Just a—…” You fumble, unsure what to say. “Acquaintance,” Azriel finishes for you, hairs rising at the back of your neck as he stares at you. “A friend of a friend.”

Bas’ lips lift into a smirk, and you pray he’s going to keep his mouth shut for once. But he turns to Azriel, standing less than an inch shorter than the shadowsinger, “I don’t see what business you have with a friend of a friend,” he drawls, making both of you stiffen.

The dim faelights gleam in his intelligent golden eyes, bringing out the rich darkness of his skin, the outcropping of his sharp jaw, the thickness of his hair that hangs in lovely, rough locks.

Azriel’s eyes narrow, shadows coiling at his back, peeking over menacingly large wings, “and what business do you have with her? She has plans for tonight.” One of Bas’ brows quirks in subtle challenge, and you brace yourself. “Considering she sought me out, I think her plans have changed,” he says, that provocative smirk still tipping his lips.

“Bas…” you murmur, stress tensing your muscles.

Both of their attention switches to you, and your mouth seals itself shut.

Azriel shakes his head, “she’s coming with me. Don’t bother her again, Bas.” The words are final, and you can tell the conversation is over. Bas doesn’t back down, though. Always ready for a bit of rough and tumble. Practically lives off the edge. “Now I didn’t realise she was your property, Az,” he drawls challengingly, his attention then settling over you. “And you should have told me who this other person was, sweetheart.”

They know one another?

“She’s not your anything,” Azriel says, a rough sharpness to his voice. “Back off, Bas.”

The male doesn’t budge. Instead his gleaming eyes fall on you.

Oh no…

“Sweetheart?”

Heat warms your skin, gaze darting anywhere but the two males before you. You really don’t want to go to the dinner. To see all of them so soon after the mess that happened precisely one week ago… And it would be weird to show up after having said you weren’t going. What if you went and there wasn’t enough food? She has enough on her plate, she doesn’t need to worry about extra dinner guests.

You’re staying with Bas.

Hazel meets your gaze, and words stumble. “I…” I’m not going to the dinner.

“You…?” Azriel repeats, jaw tightening.

You flush, eyes lowering, heat warming your cheeks against the cool night air.

You turn to Bas, and he frowns. “Sorry,” you say gently, “I should see my sister.”

The wings at Azriel’s back loose a slight bit of their tension—still pulled taut. “Right, let’s go,” he says, cutting off any communication, “we’re already late.” You shoot Bas an apologetic look as you move to follow behind Azriel—keeping his gaze ahead. He merely shakes his head, giving you an easy smile, “find me after, okay?” A wave of gratefulness washes over you, and you push every drop of it into the thankful look you send him. Then you turn, hurrying down the uneven cobbles after the Shadowsinger.

He’s silent when you catch up, walking at his side, a pace behind. He doesn’t look at you once, continuing down the road that will lead to the River House. Fighting down the humiliation, you clear your throat. “Can you—” You nearly trip, righting yourself a second before your tipping point. Stumbling, you scoop the fabric of your long dress into your hands, raising it out of the way of your feet.

He continues walking, though slows a little as you scramble after him.

“Azriel,” you say, a little breathless. “Azriel, wait.”

He halts suddenly, making you flinch with the abrupt stop. Sharp hazel eyes press down on you, and you falter. “Yes?” He asks. Fumbling for words, your eyes flick out from under his, skipping over the shops in the darkening streets. “I—…” you begin, unsure what to say. “Can you…can you not mention any of that?” You request softly, embarrassing heat warming your cheeks.

“Who would tell?” He replies coldly.

Humiliation settles in the pit of your stomach. You lower your head a little. Nod. “I didn’t want you to think…”

“I don’t make a habit of interfering with other people’s business,” he says pointedly, watching you. Why does it feel like he’s scolding you?

Your lips press together, shoulders curving inward almost imperceptibly.

His eyes flick to your hair, and his hand raises, as if to shift a strand—tuck it away. But he stops, noting your gaze. “You need to fix your hair,” he says, a touch softer than before. “It’s obvious what you were doing.” Shame is like a deadweight in your gut, hands feeling dumb as they attempt to neaten out a mess you can’t see. His eyes narrow when you lower them, and you both know it would be easier if he was the one to right whatever’s wrong with you. He doesn’t, though.

“I’m not like Nesta,” you say softly, a little shakily.

His brow narrows slightly, “nobody said you were. There’s nothing wrong about being similar to her.” Heat warms your skin, and you stumble under the look.

“I mean, that—what you…saw—that’s not normal. It’s not a… I’m doing doing any of that…”

“Drinking and fucking?” You flinch at the crude wording, and a gleam of apology flashes in his hazel irises. He watches you quietly for a moment, and you shift under his gaze, hands moving to rest on your elbows, dress swishing close to the ground.

“You know it’s fine if you are,” he says, gently. “As long as you’re being sensible about it,” he adds, “there’s nothing wrong with doing that if it works.” Your lower lip wobbles at the implication—that he knows you’re doing this to try and get over him. How desperate you’ve become.

“But find someone other than Bas,” he says, making you furrow your brow.

“What’s wrong with Bas?” You ask. He’s been great. Azriel watches you silently again, hazel eyes piercing into you blankly. Has your lip-tint smudged?

“He’s not…” Azriel begins, as if debating how to frame what he wants to say. Make sure you’ll understand. “You shouldn’t spend your time with someone like him,” he settles on.

“‘Someone like him’?” You echo, looking back up the street to where the two of you had been. Heat crawls up your spine, and you hastily look away.

“He’s different from you,” Azriel says, bluntly.

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” you argue softly, peering at the cobbles. You hear him sigh, as if he doesn’t know what to do with you. “He can’t give you what you’re looking for. He’s the type to string you along until he’s bored, then never visit again. Stay away from him.”

“He hasn’t done anything bad…” you say quietly, shifting lightly from foot to foot. “He’s been…he’s been very nice.”

Azriel sighs again, and that funny feeling settles in your stomach. Disappointment tickling your insides. “That’s to draw you in. As soon as you try to bring him to a dinner, or to meet one of your sisters, he’ll bolt.”

“Why would I bring him to meet any of you?” You ask bitterly at the lack of confidence. “Do you plan to keep your partner a secret?” He counters with, tersely. “Maybe.” You reply defensively, still looking at the ground.

He’s quiet again, and you can almost feel the air shift. “Need I remind you of last week’s events,” he asks, quietly. “You’re not known for keeping your mouth shut.” You bite your lip to keep it from trembling, nails digging into your elbows. “And I thought you didn’t make a habit of interfering with other people’s relationships,” you murmur.

“I know they’ll make good decisions,” he counters. “You don’t have enough experience. To know what you’re doing.”

“Stop treating me like a child,” you whisper, head dipping. “I know what I’m—” you cut yourself off as a sob tries to work its way from your throat. Take a deep breath. Swallow. “I know what I’m doing,” you manage quietly.

“You’re going to get yourself hurt,” he argues. “You don’t want to damage yourself like that.”

Your body stiffens at the words, then a breath eases from your chest. You nod. “Okay.” You begin walking again, one foot in front of the other. He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like that.” You keep walking.

“I’m trying to help you,” he says flatly, falling into pace.

“Okay.”

“So you’ll stay away from him?” Azriel asks, eyes falling on your smaller frame.

“Okay.”

His brow narrows on you, watching intently. Then, “look at me.”

Look at me.

The feeling of his fingers inside of you, close enough to share breaths, yet you were the only vulnerable one. Not an ounce of intimacy to be exchanged. You keep walking toward the River House.

Azriel doesn’t say another word.

————

In the end, you’re somewhat glad you went to the dinner.

If you hadn’t, you would be back here, in the mortal lands.

Well, with no wall, you’re not sure what to call your previous homeland. But you’re here, nonetheless, and all thanks to Elain. She’d wished to see Lucien, who had near permanent residence in the mostly intact house, and had invited you along with her. Whether she knew you needed some time away, or simply offered, you don’t know.

You’d arrived most likely around an hour ago, Fey and Cassian departing soon after, leaving you and Elain to spend the day as you pleased. You’d opted to take a stroll around the gardens, walking alongside the river that was just beginning to refill after an apparently hot and dry summer.

That was your first encounter with Eris.

You nearly jump out of your skin when he winnows to the river bank mere feet to your left, stumbling backward a few steps in surprise. Cutting caramel eyes pierce into you with razor-sharp scrutiny, noting your pointed ears. His brow narrows as he takes you in; he doesn’t look pleased with what he finds.

Blinking, you mark the blazing colour of his hair, the beautifully tailored finery, the flicker of flame in his eyes—remarkably similar to Lucien. “What…who are you?” You manage, calming your heartbeat. It’s a nonsense question, you realise—it’s obvious who he is. Anyone could figure it out through simple deduction. So you shake your head, “why are you here?”

Eris’ eyes narrow on you, then he’s striding forward, moving up the river bank until he’s come to stop before you. You take a single step back—if you have to crane your neck to look at someone, you’re too close. He’s remarkably imposing with his height and muscle, despite the inherent beauty of the fae.

“Who are you?” The words are short and efficient in a sharp, brazen way, and you find yourself wondering if you should have just continued on your way. “I’m—” you open your mouth to give your name, then realise it would be rude to assume he knew who you were. There’s no reason for him to. “Feyre’s my younger sister,” you supply instead.

His brow narrows. “I didn’t know there were four of you.”

Heat flushes your skin, and you look away. It’s not an insult, yet you feel embarrassed.

“So, why are you here?” You repeat, a little quieter, trying to change the subject.

“I’m expected,” he replies shortly, turning to face the way you had come. “Why have you been kept a secret?” He asks. You mentally scramble for an excuse to continue on your walk. You don’t want to go back yet, and he’ll probably expect you to winnow, and you aren’t really in a talking mood at the moment. No excuse comes to mind.

“I haven’t been kept a secret,” you respond finally, falling into step a little behind him. “Not intentionally, anyway,” you add as an afterthought, frowning. He's walking fast, and you’d like more time to take in the scenery. At least he’s not winnowing.

“You haven’t been present at any meetings,” he counters, “I find it hard to believe that’s a coincidence.”

Your frown deepens, “why would I be at any of them? Elain hasn’t been to any, either. The only time you would have seen her is in the Hewn City.”

“Which you were kept away from, too.”

You come to a stop, watching him. His brow narrows as he’s forced to slow his pace, looking vaguely irritated. “I was there when you danced with Nesta,” you correct, “all of us were.”

Eris stares at you blankly and it’s an effort not to squirm. “I was there,” you insist, “behind Elain?”

He doesn’t remember you.

Well.

“So you’re good at remaining unseen,” he says, turning to set you into motion again. You hurry after him, a little taken aback at the compliment. It’s a nice way to think about it, a faint smile tipping your lips, “thank you.”

“It was a question.”

“Oh…” you say, smile vanishing. It hadn’t sounded like one. “I guess… I prefer it…”

“You and the Shadowsinger must get along swimmingly,” he mutters, continuing along the path, neatly avoiding muddied parts. Something you fail spectacularly at.

The comment registers in your mind and you stiffen, muscles contracting as you force yourself to continue moving. “Not particularly…” you hedge, uncertain what’s appropriate to tell him. You aren’t familiar with Court politics. “No more than anyone else, anyway,” you correct, soothing out the slight rumple.

“No? Not settling in well?” He asks. You could swear there’s some sort of mocking undertone to the question, but you can’t figure out what the taunt is for.

“I…I guess not?” You answer, slowly. “It’s not bad,” you add hastily, not wanting to talk negatively behind their backs. He might bring it up later. You repeat the thought in your head, then shake it, smiling faintly. He hadn’t even know you existed until a few minutes ago, yet you think he could be trying exploit you. How silly.

The result of an over-inflated ego. Maybe you really should stop fooling around with Bas—he’s giving you all sorts of ideas about the value of your person, and it probably isn’t healthy.

“I mean, it’s fine. Just…normal, I guess. Compared with the initial chaos,” you add, satisfied with the end result of your rambling. The house is in sight now. All you need to do is pass between the river and the pond, and—

You stumble.

Not literally—it’s more of a mental scramble. Because right there, where they weren’t mere minutes ago, are a pair of large, powerfully built swans.

Eris continues walking like the two beasts aren’t eyeing you up with those sharp, beady eyes. You can practically see the light catching on the small teeth hidden beneath the beak. Glittering with menace.

“Let’s go this way,” you say abruptly, pointing to the path that winds around the pond. He comes to stop, clearly irritated by the unnecessary hinderances you’re causing. “This way is perfectly usable. We go this way,” he turns, continuing forward, fear rising in y our throat.

You scramble forward, clutching the skirts of your dress, “Eris!”

His caramel eyes slice into you, piercing in their intensity, but you don’t buckle. “I understand that maybe they don’t seem as vicious as the creatures of Prythian,” you murmur, as if they can hear you, “but swans are still very dangerous. We should go around.” Again you point to the pathway, ears perked up for any signs the massive birds are approaching. “And I get that you have magic, but you can’t just go around butchering local animals if they get in your way. That’s not how things are done here.”

He stares at you, as if asking if you’re serious. You hold his gaze because yes, you’re completely serious.

“You know they won’t attack you,” he counters, “and you’re correct, they aren’t dangerous compared to the beasts in Prythian. So move aside.”

You shake your head, “they could break your arm,” you insist, refusing to budge. His brow narrows in a scathing scowl, “they could break a human’s arm. I am not human.” He walks around you.

“They’re still dangerous, Eris. We should really go around,” you urge, watching as he walks along the path, remaining rooted to the spot. “Just winnow,” he snaps, then looks over his shoulder. “Unless you aren’t strong enough.”

“I can winnow fine, but…” Even that’s too close to them. You firmly believe animals have a sixth sense humans do not—you wouldn’t put it past them to know they’ve been cheated. “Please, let’s just go around.”

He watches you with narrowed eyes, weighing; judging. You freeze beneath his gaze, refusing to even breathe in case it’s the wrong thing to do. He turns fully to you then, and you think he might listen to you. Relief washes over you, but—

“You’re scared of these creature?” He asks, amusement underlying his tone. You flush. “Like I said, they’re dangerous,” you defend, lowering your gaze a little.

“You know, you’re fae. They won’t attack you.”

Your eyes flick up, doubting. “Why would they act any differently?”

“We are creatures of magic. Greater than they are. They know it would be unwise to attempt anything.” You blink, having not thought of it like that. The fae had felt different when you were human, more intense, more concentrated in a way humans weren’t. You hadn’t considered maybe other animals would understand that primal difference, too.

Eris’ lips twitch, and he holds out his arm—you’re completely certain it’s a mocking gesture this time. But also a challenge.

It’s also a prompt to face your fears. It’s been long enough.

You can do this.

You can prove to yourself there’s no need to be afraid of them any longer.

You take some small steps forward. Then a few more. And a few more after that. And then your arm is overlapping with Eris’, feeling the hot strength of muscle cording his forearm. An odd feeling of security settles over you, as the two of you begin to move forward.

You’re unable to help tensing as you pass them, even if Eris is on the side closest to them. Then to your dismay, he stops. “You can pet them, if you want,” he says, lips still quirked in the corners. He’s enjoying watching you shake and tremble at something half your size. “Are you insane?” You mutter under your breath, staring at the white beasts that seem to be waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Eyes widen and you stare at him, “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean that.”

He watches you steadily, eyes gleaming as he turns toward the swans, forcibly dragging you with him, despite your protests. “Eris…” you mutter, digging your feet into the mud, but you nearly slip. “Eris, seriously, stop it.”

He stops; you sigh in relief, but the tension doesn’t leave your body—still much too close to the great birds.

“Go up to one,” he says, a smirk on his rosey lips. “Touch one, then you can go.” He’s enjoying this far too much for your liking.

“No way,” you hiss, trying to pull out of his hold. The swans shift at the jerky movement, and you still. You stare at him, but he doesn’t seem inclined to move. “They’ll definitely do something if I try to go up to one!” You argue, as softly as possible. He just hums, and you wish you had continued walking instead of addressing him. Then you could be looking for blackberries, enjoying the natural sounds of the outside.

But here you are.

“You’re fae,” he reminds, eyes gleaming as he watches you intently.

Muscles tremble, thoughts flash in and out of existence within your mind as you look at the swans, sat neatly on the river bank, just at the water’s edge. A few long steps there, then back, and it’ll be over.

He’s right—you’re fae. They won’t attack you.

Still.

His arm unlinks from your own, hand pressing gently against the base of your spine. Egging you on.

You exhale a heavy breath, then move forward. Silently cursing him—unkind as it is. One step at a time as you descend the bank. The wind seems to have picked up, and you’re grateful for your preternatural sense of balance as you move down the muddy slant, feet settling on the pebble-filled shore.

Just three more steps, and you can turn back.

Two more.

One more, and then you’ll be in reaching distance.

The beady eyes pierce into you, wings stiffening, and you force yourself to breathe deeply.

“Just tap one on the head, and it’ll be over,” he reminds from your back, a little too loudly for your liking. Like he’s trying to get them to startle.

You steady yourself, blocking him out.

Come on, you can do this. You’re twice it’s size, and have immortality on your side. You can do this.

Slowly, shakily, you take the last step forward, reaching out your hand.

Black eyes meet your own, and you falter.

The swan shrieks, the second one hissing viciously, wings flaring to strike. You jump away, feet landing on the slippery rocks of the river. The massive birds surge forward, beak opening to snap at you, and you stumble, yelping as you fall backward. Icy water soaks up to your waist, and the breath whooshes out of you, your arms covering your face as wings flap.

When you open your eyes, the swans have taken off, and you’re up to your ribs in freezing river water. Trembling and shaking, you ease yourself out, soaked from the waist down, clothes wet and icy against your skin as you shiver.

Up on the bank, Eris is grinning, eyes gleaming with mirth as he watches your soaked state shuffle from the river, barely keeping his laughter to himself.

“You said—” Your heart is still pounding, vision blurring a little as you fumble for words. “You said they— That they wouldn’t…” Your teeth are already chattering, and you have to get warm quickly. You know how deadly the cold can be. Even with a reinforced body, the cold is as vicious as you remember, softly sinking into your arms, numbing your lips.

“Every animal has a fight or flight response,” he replies, voice lilting with amusement at your terror. “It was foolish of you to think you were above that.”

“But you said—”

“If I told you to dip beneath the river for five minutes without coming up for air because fae lungs are larger, would you do it?” He counters.

“…I wouldn’t disbelieve you,” you stammer, lips numb from the cold, lumbering back toward the bank.

The water in your shoes makes it hard to climb the muddy slope, and you end up having to use your hands to keep yourself steady, gritty dirt sliding beneath your nails. “Why did you lie?” You manage, heart pounding from fear, blinking away tears. His lips are still quirked into a rueful smile, enjoying your terror.

Hateful, hateful, hateful male.

“Don’t blame your idiocy on me,” he says smoothly, offering you a viper’s smile as he turns to continue along the path, leaving you freezing and shivering, soaked in river water. “Anyone with half a brain would have been able to see through that,” he calls over his shoulder. Tears spill down your cheeks, and for once, you don’t think, or fret over the consequences.

You winnow, and land a smack square across his cheek. As hard as you can.

He blinks, startled.

Then flame ignites in his eyes, glittering ire blazing hot as a forge.

“Don’t you ever,” you snarl, “do something like that again.” Fury heats your body, and you feel like a physical warmth is wrapping around you, fingertips tingling as if glowing, skin itching just below the surface. “Do you hear me, Eris?” You repeat, rage sharpening your words as your lip pulls back from your teeth.

The flame banks in his caramel eyes, and he yields a step. It’s satisfying, until you realise why.

You are glowing. But it’s not the bright, warm golden of Feyre’s happiness.

It’s green, and vivid.

Hands the colour of radiant starfall.

————

The Mother seems to enjoy putting you through various trials.

You come to this conclusion as you resist the urge to press deeper into the firm heat of Azriel’s chest as he carries you through the air.

For reasons you can only guess at, Cassian was otherwise preoccupied, leaving the Shadowsinger to fill in. Now Elain understands your relationship with the male, Feyre can guess at the complexities, and Azriel is part of the mess, so it should be obvious you’ll fly with your younger sister, right?

Unfortunately, Lucien had to be accounted for.

He’s well aware of the history between the Spymaster and his mate, and while he would never ask Elain to avoid him, she can guess well enough it would make him unhappy. That’s how you end up in his arms, split between wishing to be anywhere else, and wishing to be able to bask in his touch without anyone questioning how close you would lean. As it is, you’re stuck between keeping your distance, and not leaning so far it looks like you’re attempting to plummet to the ground far below.

The group is moving in silence, passing over the final stretch, and you can make out the twinkle of lights in the distance—Velaris. They’d gotten caught up in—what sounded like—a rather heated conversation with the Autumn Court heir, while you had opted to wait outside. The hallway had seemed too cramped, and you weren’t sure if you could manage being pressed so close to him without making your discomfort obvious.

Azriel breaks the silence. “Was everything okay with Eris suddenly turning up?”

The question startles you from your inner thoughts, and you replay it to catch the beginning. “Yeah,” you reply, trying to keep your eyes off him. “He’s just a bit…” You fumble for words, but he’s already nodding, knowing what you’re getting at. “He’s a little intense,” you settle on, “but everything was fine. For the most part, anyway.” You’re rambling.

“For the most part,” he echoes, a soft question in his voice.

“Well, I ended up falling into the river, but you know how it is…” you mumble, suddenly finding the sky very interesting. More interesting than Azriel.

(Liar.)

“I don’t think I do,” he replies. “What does soaking yourself to the bone have to do with him?” He asks, grip tightening ever so slightly as you begin the descent. You really don’t want to tell him—it’s not going to win you any adult points. At best it’ll just show how emotional your are, and that means baggage.

“It’s a long story,” you hedge, trying not to cling too tight to him as your stomach lifts in your belly. “We’ve got a while left,” he replies, gazing ahead. He could definitely be going at a steeper angle.

You sigh softly, trying to figure out how to make it as quick and concise as possible. “Well…he kind of…appeared out of nowhere, and we ended walking back together.” Azriel’s fingers press into your skin lightly, slowly spiralling in wide circles, “and there was a river involved.”

You nod gently, “yeah.”

“How?”

Teeth worry your lower lip, mouth pursing.

He exhales quietly. “We’re in an alliance, but that doesn’t mean you should trust him. I need to know everything that happened so precautions can be made,” he explains firmly.

“Okay…”

“So tell me what happened when you were walking alone with him,” he prompts.

“There’s not much to say…” you try, but he gives you a look that tells you to quit lying. “I don’t know…we were walking past the river, and there were some swans, and he convinced me to touch one, and…well, I slipped and fell in.” You leave out the glowing hands part. If you mention it, you know they’ll pounce. You don’t want to go through what Nesta did. The things she had to endure just to activate her powers…

Granted, there’s no looming threat of the queen anymore, but still. You’d rather not.

“He convinced you,” Azriel mutters under his breath, “and how did he do that?” You flush with heat, and pray he can’t tell. ��I didn’t want to walk past them, and he…encouraged me to tackle my fear.”

“Stop forcing a good narrative on that prick,” he says sharply. “He didn’t encourage you, he manipulated you.”

“Maybe,” you murmur, “but I’m a little less afraid of swans now.”

Azriel sucks in a steadying breath. “And what did you talk about?”

You cast your mind back to the conversation. “He said he hadn’t known there were four sisters,” you admit, quietly, “he thought there were only three, and that Rhys was hiding me, for some reason.” He hums, and your hairs stand on end, able to feel the resonance thrumming through you. You hurriedly shift your mind elsewhere before your scent changes. “What else?”

You put your teeth into the inside of your lower lip, “I…” said we weren’t on the best of terms. “He asked…how…I was settling in,” you manage to string the words together, selecting each one with great care. “And?” He prompts. Oh dear.

“I said it was fine,” you reply, purposely vaguely. His eyes flick to you, and your own snap away in response. “Just fine?” He questions, softly. You make to nod, but he mutters your name under his breath, a quiet reprimand on his tongue. Heat coils in the pit of your belly, making you shift uncomfortably in his arms, leaning away.

A muscle feathers in his jaw, and he tightens his grip on you. “Stop doing that. You’ll fall.” You’re squeezed closer to him, and you squirm, the heat doubling. He mutters your name again, rougher.

“Stop doing that,” you hiss, sharply. You don’t have time to feel bad—it’s better to be rude than for him to realise the immense effect he has on you. “Stop leaning away from me,” he counters, “you’re being difficult.”

“I’m sorry my responses are an inconvenience for you,” you snap, quietly. No louder than a whisper.

“Don’t weaponise your emotions like that,” he murmurs back.

“I don’t see how I’d be able to when I don’t even know what that means,” you return, quietly. You feel his eyes press into you, and you look further away, inspecting the ground. “Don’t feign ignorance either,” he says sharply, “it’s immature.”

“Immature is making a problem out of something I can’t help,” you whisper back, snappily. His eyes narrow on you, and you shift again.

His hold tightens abruptly, fingers digging into you as he roughly readjusts his grip on your thighs and around your back. You squeak at the harsh treatment, heat bursting in your lower belly, and you squeeze your lips together, praying no sounds slip out. “It’s like you’re trying to get me to drop you,” he mutters beside your ear, “just keep still. We’re almost there.”

“Keep still?” You repeat incredulously, staring at him. “I don’t know if you’ve somehow forgotten, Azriel,” you hiss, emphasising his name. Hazel eyes flick down to you, and you gently push away the heat for a moment. “But I struggle to even think straight when you’re around. I can barely keep my head as it is, so forgive me if I’m a little shifty in a position like this,” you snap quietly. Probably the most aggressive you’ve ever been for a consistent time period.

“And I don’t know if you’ve forgotten,” he snipes back, eyes piercing into you, “but you managed to pull away on the brink of an orgasm.” Wild heat swallows you whole, and there’s no way your scent is remaining undetected now. “So you’re clearly more in control than you say you are.”

You stare at him, lips parted, skin flushed with heat.

“We are done with this conversation,” you hiss, breaking your gaze away. He doesn’t appreciate the verbal dismissal. “We’re done when I say we’re done,” he hisses in return. “Now what did you mean when you told Eris you were fine?”

You purse your lips, pointedly averting your eyes.

He mutters your name, grip tightening on you. You ignore him.

He repeats it, rougher this time, shadows twining around you.

“Cut it out,” you whisper, sharply.

“Expand on the fine comment,” he pushes, and you can physically feel the weight of his gaze upon your cheek. “Why are you so hung up on that one, tiny part?” You return, a sliver of irritation peeking through. “Because you’ve been acting strangely for a while now,” he hisses, “and if you’re starting to spiral like Nesta—”

“Do not threaten me, Azriel,” you snarl softly, skin heating—tingling. His eyes flicker, and his hold lessens on you a little, “it’s not a threat,” he soothes, “just an observation.” You narrow your brow as you watch him warily. “Like I said: you’ve been acting strange recently, and if you even gave the slightest hint that something’s off, Eris will exploit it.”

Your eyes flick away, slightly embarrassed by your tiny outburst. That wasn’t appropriate.

“So tell me, what happened when you said you were fine?” He repeats, gritting out the question.

“I…” You bite your lip, then give up. “He asked if I was settling in well, and I said I wasn’t.”

“Why did you tell him that?” He asks, gaze returning to pick out Velaris, much closer now. “Because it’s the truth,” you reply, a little weakly.

“I don’t care if it’s the truth, you shouldn’t have told him,” Azriel hisses. “He’ll give you the comfort you want, offer the reassurance, until you’re wrapped so tightly you choke on it.”

Hurt flickers in your eyes, vision blurring. “Maybe if I was better than fine I wouldn’t need the comforting,” you snap, turning your head and blinking away tears. His jaw tightens, “that’s not the point.” You stare at him. He stares back, features set in a stony line. “What is the point, then?” You ask weakly, the small spark of fight banking, beginning to flicker out beneath his oppressive gaze. “The point is,” he says, dragging out the words like he’s talking to a child. “You’re too naive.”

It’s like a smack to the face, your head reeling.

“You don’t know the dynamics between the courts. You don’t know about the feuds, or the history of Prythian. You don’t know enough to be trusted to act on your own,” he continues, oblivious to the number of scars he’s striking. “You’re a loose cannon, that I now have to compensate for.”

You stare up at him, hazel eyes glittering beneath the starlight.

“What’s worse—”

You put your hands over your ears. You can’t take anymore. If it was coming from someone else—fine. From anyone else it would be fine; understandable.

But not Azriel. That’s too much.

His brow furrows, lips moving, and you can guess he’s telling you to remove your hands.

You shake your head softly, unable to stand another word.

But his shadows contract around your wrists, tugging them away, and you hate the heat the bubbles in your lower belly at the roughness.

“You need to grow up,” he mutters, lowly. “You can’t just run away from something if you don’t want to hear it. You’re going to have to face it.”

A sob breaks from your chest, and your hands cover your face as the tears finally break, spilling down your cheeks. “Just leave me alone,” you cry, shoulders shaking as the tears continue streaming. “You find me irritating? fine. You find me annoying? Fine. You think I’m the worst, ugliest, most useless female in the world, fine,” you sob, unable to look at him. “But keep it to yourself, because every single word from your mouth holds more weight that you can probably even understand. And it is crushing me.”

You tremble in his arms, wishing they were there to offer comfort instead of being purely obligatory.

“You think Eris is the viper? You think he’s the one who’s bad for me? The one who’s trying to choke me?” You ask through your tears. “But you’re the one succeeding.”

Azriel’s eyes harden, and you feel the fractures growing larger. “I’m trying to keep you in line,” he replies, coldly. “For the sake of my Court, my High Lord and Lady, I am doing my best to keep people safe,” he emphasises. “And you are a proving to be a burden.”

You don’t know if he intentionally selected that word, burden.

You don’t know if he even realises which wound he’s targeted—so many have been picked open.

But you go quiet in his arms.

Docile.

The fight finally winking out.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

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[thankskenpenders]

As I'm sure many of you are already aware, Did You Know Gaming (who have been doing some really great investigative work lately) recently put out a video on canceled Sonic games. The whole thing's worth a watch, but I have to bring it up here specifically because they talk about the plans for Sonic Chronicles 2 with a LOT of new info directly from the lead designer.

The section on how the story of Sonic Chronicles 2 would have went starts at 9:45. It's very interesting! He outlines the whole plot, including the fact that they were going to end with ANOTHER obvious plot hook for a sequel in the hopes that they or some other studio could keep the Sonic Chronicles series going indefinitely. Sonic Team even claimed they were interested in using Chronicles characters like Shade in other games. It's crazy to imagine a timeline where this might have become a pillar of the franchise.

I refuse to mourn the loss of the sequel, though, because y'all saw me stream the original. It was miserable. And with the original game selling and reviewing decently well, they would have had little reason to go back to the drawing board and overhaul that game's bizarrely hateful design.

Of course, DYKG also had to talk about the reason why the game was canceled. I was dreading this because of how often people tend to get the basic facts of the Penders cases wrong or downplay the obvious Archie Knuckles inspiration in Chronicles. But no, they did their homework! And they got the details right in part because, well... they asked Penders for comment directly. And he sent them back a MASSIVE wall of text about the whole ordeal, including some fascinating details that I don't believe I've heard before!

You can go to 15:19 in the video and scrub through to read the many, MANY screencaps of their emails from Ken, but here are the most interesting and/or hilarious tidbits to me:

#1: Perjury!

As we already knew, Ken claimed that the incomplete, photocopied contract Archie presented in court was a forgery, and that he had never signed a work for hire contract.

The judge obviously knew that one side had to be lying here, and thus was more than willing to present the case to a jury to let them decide the truth... and send whoever was deemed the liar to jail for perjury. (The judge apparently looked Ken directly in the eye when he said this, which... well, make of that what you will.)

Archie's lawyers knew that they didn't have a completely airtight case and obviously did not want to go to jail. So they decided to settle instead of going to trial in front of a jury.

(I will reiterate that Archie's arguments not working out is overall a GOOD thing, because we really do not want to set a legal precedent where corporations can "lose" a contract for a creator, make up a story about what was on the contract, and then have that hold up in court. They gotta get that shit in writing. And they didn't. They fucked up!)

#2: Sega was threatening to revoke the Sonic license!

As we knew, Sega wanted nothing to do with the comic copyright lawsuit. To them, it was Archie's job as licensee to deal with their freelancers. (Y'all watch Succession? You know how Logan loves lackeys who will eat shit for him without him having to even hear about the problem? Yeah.) And, in fact, according to Ken, Sega gave Archie an ultimatum: if they wanted their license to make Sonic comics renewed, they were gonna have to deal with Ken on their own, and cover all the costs.

Yeah, uh, this kinda makes me think that Sega being pissed about the ongoing Scott Fulop copyright case in 2016 may have been a bigger factor in Archie Sonic's cancellation than I previously thought. There was a lot going on at the time that could have contributed, but, y'know.

Anyway, Archie sued Ken for "damaging their business" largely because Sega was threatening to take away the Sonic IP. But because Archie couldn't ask Sega for help and they couldn't produce an original contract, they had to settle.

There's another detail I find funny here, though. Ken WANTED Sega to get involved in the comic copyright case, thinking that Sega would strongarm Archie into paying him the millions of dollars he wanted for "using his work without permission" so that they could be done with it. I mean, sure. I guess Sega wouldn't have cared about Archie's finances, but still. I'm not so sure that would've worked out for him.

#3: Shade!

Yes, Penders still claims he legally owns Shade, and under advice from his lawyer still intends to put out an NFT of her to put his claim to the test. Yes, it's incredible that he still hasn't put out the damn NFT. It only needs to be one image, which he already drew! The market has collapsed!

Anyway, building an argument off the legal concept of estoppel, he says that if Sega continues to not do anything about his claims that he owns Shade then, in the eyes of the court, they'll be forfeiting their claims to Shade altogether. But they aren't going to do anything because they never wanted any part in the copyright battles in the first place, and to them Chronicles is a long dead asset not worth fighting over. Why bother trying to use Shade again and giving Ken a reason to take them back to court when they can just move on? It's not like this franchise is short on characters. And so Ken can say that Shade and Julie-Su are literally the same character, and if he owns Julie-Su then therefore he also owns Shade.

Our copyright system is, indeed, a nightmare. Chronicles should have been halfway to the public domain by now.

#4: Sega's oversight on the Archie comics!

Ken says that in his first year on the series Sega only requested some dialogue changes here and there through the editor. They never requested huge script changes, and also never spoke to Ken directly. After that first year, they stopped asking for dialogue changes altogether, and Ken "had a free hand to do pretty much whatever he wanted." Yeah, no surprise there.

He does, however, say that Archie's original deal with Sega stated that they weren't allowed to create ANY new Sonic characters without informing Sega. They would've needed to make a contract every single time to get Sega's approval and make it absolutely crystal clear that Sega owned the whole cast. And then Archie just... didn't do that! And didn't tell any of the freelance creatives not to come up with new characters! Had Archie followed this rule, the trajectory of the comics would have been completely different, but there also never would've been a copyright battle in the first place.

What a shitshow. Truly.

[slippinmickeys]

Fic prompt - Scully goes on a date with the Perfect guy. Mulder is angry, decides to go to a bar to find a one night stand. He just gets drunk and TLG bring him home where... He finds Scully sleeping on his bed

I started this forever ago, but could never really get it to flow and didn’t know how to end it. Reading through it now… it’s a little uneven, has not so much as whispered in a beta’s ear, but I kind of like where I left off and… I have so many unfinished works sitting in docs I’m letting this one fly free. Thanks for the prompt so long ago, Anon.

Dale. The guy’s fucking name was Dale. Who named their kid Dale, anyway? Perfect smile, perfect teeth, perfectly coiffed hair, polite, a doctor, and so damned charming that even Mulder had trouble not liking him.

He had a sailboat. He was taking Scully out on it. He was somehow more Vineyard than Mulder himself – a guy from fucking Chilmark. And Scully was eating it up. She was excited about the date, had been talking about it all day, ad nauseum. Well, he was pretty sure she had. He’d had to tune her out for his own mental well-being.

You’d drink, too, he’d said, maybe out loud, and it took him a moment to register the warm hand that clapped his back, the presence next to his barstool.

“I know, buddy,” Frohike said, eyebrows like caterpillars crawling across his brow, his hand squeezing Mulder’s shoulder.

“Frohike?” Mulder asked, surprised as all hell to see his friend standing there.

“Thanks, Nadine,” Frohike said to the barmaid, who handed over Mulder’s cell phone and credit card, both of which Frohike slipped into Mulder’s sport coat pocket. “Let’s get you home.”

Mulder stood woozily, and the older man had to occasionally correct his trajectory as he stumbled past the billiard tables that Casey had pulled three booths to squeeze into the back room of the bar.

The Vanagon was idling out front, Byers behind the wheel. Langly was riding shotgun, rubbernecking out the window and snapping a tight knot of green gum. The valet looked pissed and said something to Frohike that Mulder couldn’t make out as the little hacker tried to maneuver the much taller man through the open door.

“Keep your pants on, key jockey!” Frohike clapped back as he slid the big door closed. Mulder slumped against the window, miserable, sliding down the vinyl seat as Byers pulled away from the curb.

“What happened?” Langly asked, turning around and peering at Mulder through smudged glasses.

“Scully’s on a date,” Frohike said carefully. Byers’ eyes flicked to Mulder’s in the rearview, but he said nothing.

Langly nodded knowingly. “She been dickmatized? Is this dude some kind of punk?”

“No,” Mulder burped, righting himself in the seat as the contents of his stomach sloshed. “He’s actually a really nice guy.” He directed his comment to Langly’s second question, adamantly refusing to acknowledge his first.

“Let’s just get Mulder back to headquarters,” Frohike said, glaring at Langly. “Let him sleep it off.”

Mulder grabbed onto the side of the van as his head began to spin, and the thought of sleeping on the guys’ lumpy couch surrounded by the close-quarters smell of hot circuitry and day-old nachos triggered a violent urge to propel the contents of his stomach out the window beside him. He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

“No!” he burped again. “Take me home please.”

When Byers’ took the exit for Old Town, Mulder unclenched, and that’s when the urge to puke turned into a biological inevitability.

The look on his face must have conveyed some real urgency, because the next thing he knew, the van had swung over to a curb and Frohike already had the door open. He fell to his knees on the floor of the Volkswagen and hurled an arc of vomit onto the sidewalk outside the van.

“Whoa,” he heard Langly’s nasally voice pipe up when his coughing and gagging had died down considerably. “That’s some serious upchucking. I think he shot it past the fire hydrant.”

He spit once and then looked down in his hand to see a wad of Burger King napkins that Frohike had pressed into it. He mopped his face as the other man slid the sliding door closed and Byers merged back into traffic.

Mulder settled himself gingerly back onto the big bench seat.

“I feel a lot better,” he said pathetically, the sweat on his forehead cooling.

“Well you smell a lot worse,” Frohike replied, scrunching his nose in distaste.

“Bet Dale can’t hit the fire hydrant,” Mulder said.

“Dale can probably hold his liquor,” Frohike grumbled, and the puke-induced euphoria he felt withered, replaced by a humble misery. He wondered where Scully was now, if Dale had let her take the helm. He wondered how big the boat was, if it had a sleeping berth. If Dale and Scully had ever used it.

“You’d drink too, if-” Mulder started, but his words died on his tongue as it came to him what he was about to say. Out loud. To the guys.

The cab of the vehicle took on an embarrassed silence and after a long moment he looked up to find Langly reaching a hand back to him, a foil-wrapped stick of gum on offer along with a look of knowing sympathy.

Mulder took the gum with a nod of thanks and stuck the sheet of spearmint in his mouth, chasing out the taste of bile and sick and rampant jealousy.

When Byers pulled the van in front of Hegal Place, Mulder had trouble meeting anyone’s eye. Frohike was on the sidewalk waiting for him when he tipped himself out of the back of the van, sobriety duking it out with whatever liquor still swam through his bloodstream.

Frohike looked up at him with a kind and steady hand on his arm. “You want me to walk you up?” he asked.

Mulder felt around his pockets for his keys, locating them after a quick search. “No,” he said. “I got it from here.”

Frohike nodded and patted him one more time. “Put a trash can next to your bed, huh? Drink some water.”

Mulder thanked him and turned on his heel, missing the look the three guys gave each other before watching him ascend the stairs and fumble his way through the front door of his building. Eschewing the elevator and up the stairs because moving was better than standing still, down the hallway – where he’d thought he’d told her he loved her in as many words as he could, and still she went out with Dale – and through his front door. He had it bad, he realized, as he stepped through his door and into his apartment. He had it so bad that he thought he could smell a trace of her perfume – the expensive stuff she kept in her sock drawer – when he walked through the door of his own apartment. Christ.

He toed off his shoes and made immediately for the shower, catching the alleyway stench of whatever vomit hadn’t made it all the way to the sidewalk. Standing under the hot spray, he rethought some of his more recent choices.

If he were honest with himself, he’d gone to the bar tonight to pick up a woman and take her home. It had felt like a wild, righteous idea at the time, made on an indignant huff just as Scully was waving goodbye and Dale put his hand on her back to lead her through the double doors of the Hoover building. A decision made with jealousy boiling through his veins, but abandoned when he sat down at the bar and pictured another woman with her head thrown back on his sheets. Anonymous sex didn’t hold the appeal it once had for whatever reason, and he’d ordered a drink instead. And then a second, and a third and on down the line.

What would he say to Scully if she were here now, he wondered, toweling himself off. What do you see in him? That was obvious. He bent over and drank water directly from the faucet, slurping until the headache he felt coming on was assuaged. He looked at himself in the mirror. Why him and not me? He thought, and sighed, padding naked into his bedroom – not bothering to turn on the light – and sliding on a pair of pajama pants he pulled from a drawer.

He lowered himself into the bed, dejected, tired, still a little woozy, when a sound – a quick inhale of breath – sent him shooting back up to standing, heart pounding, instantly sober.

“Mulder?” came a groggy voice from the other side of his bed, and it took him a moment to reconcile his partner’s voice and its place in his dark bedroom.

“Scully?” he said, his voice sounding two octaves too high. “Jesus.”

He reached over and switched on a bedside lamp.

“I’m sorry,” she said breathily, blinking rapidly. She scooted up on the mattress and back into the pillows. Her hair was mussed and she wore a shell-shocked look. “What time is it?”

Mulder was still so surprised to see her that he couldn't put together a coherent answer. “I-what are you doing here?”

Scully looked over at him, took in his pajamas and his bare chest, his still-damp hair, and a look of profound embarrassment washed over her face.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I was waiting for you and then-”

Maybe Mulder wasn’t entirely sober yet, because his brain still felt absolutely befuddled. “Where’s Dale?” he asked, sounding rather like a simpleton, like he expected Dr. Dale to come sauntering into his bedroom at any moment, wearing one of Mulder’s robes, handing over a cold martini to Scully and saying ‘great bedroom for a shag, thanks for letting us use it.’

“Out on his boat, I imagine,” she said, not meeting his eye.

“But why are you not… on his boat?” Mulder lowered himself back onto the mattress, perching on the edge. “Wait, did he try something? Are you okay?” He leapt back up to standing.

“It's fine, Mulder, he didn’t do anything. I…got seasick,” she said, finally turning to look at him, a dubious, slightly jokey look on her face.

“But you don’t get seasick.” He was still standing.

She gave him a look like he was being deliberately obtuse. It started to occur to him that she was here on purpose, not because something calamitous had happened.

“But you were excited about it,” he said, lowering himself once again back to the bed. “You kept talking about it.”

“Mulder…”

“Scully?”

She thunked her head back against the headboard.

“Maybe I was hoping you’d talk me out of it.”

“You we’re hoping I’d-“ his heart soared momentarily, a bird taking flight. And then it fell out of the sky.

“Where have you been?” Scully asked, head tilted to look at him, her brow creasing, eyes narrowed.

“I was… at a bar.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks turned scarlet in the warm yellow light of the lamp and a look came over her face like a dawning realization. “Were you… there for someone?”

His life flashed before his eyes. Scully could tell when he lied to her, and he had gone to the bar with the intention of picking up a woman.

When he didn’t answer, Scully’s eyes widened and she stood suddenly. “I have made,” she said, looking around as if for a purse or a set of keys, “an appalling miscalculation.”

Mulder wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or herself, but suddenly she was on the move, darting through his bedroom door in a rapid exodus.

“Scully wait!” he called out, following her, just hoping to catch her before she got to the door. He felt like if she went through it, there was a real chance he might never see her again. Dana Scully didn’t do embarrassment well.

But he almost stumbled into her when he reached the hallway. She had pulled up short next to his billiard ball coat rack, her nose scrunched up in a look of minor revulsion. He had left his discarded clothes and shoes in a rumpled trail from the door to his bathroom, and the fumes coming off of them were sour and unpleasant.

“Mulder, it smells like vomit.”

He doubted she could see his chagrined expression, backlit as he was by the light spilling from his bedroom, but he shrugged.

“I… may have tied one on,” he admitted.

“You went out drinking?” Her face looked like she was working on a very hard math problem. “Alone?”

“Well, the Gunmen came and got me.” While he was sure she was glad he hadn’t driven drunk, he knew that’s not what she was getting at. “I was upset,” he finally admitted.

“Upset?”

He took a hesitant step toward her, watched her eyes slowly climb up to his face the closer he got to her.

“Jealous.”

Her gaze was moving rapidly back and forth between his two eyes. “Jealous?” Her voice barely above a whisper. His stomach did a loop, like a swallow over a corn field.

“You wanted me to talk you out of your date?” She smiled and sighed, looked down and away from him. “What’s wrong with Dale?”

Her gaze climbed back up, lingering a little, he thought, on his bare chest.

“Nothing’s wrong with Dale. That’s the problem.”

Mulder reached out a hand, wanted run it through her hair, but grazed her shoulder instead.

“You looking for a fixer upper? I know at least five different-“

“Mulder,” she said, exasperated. “Shut the fuck up.”

He did so immediately.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

I think.....I might have sort of pushed my asshole coworker into giving his two weeks notice???

Rant under the cut

During a time where he was pissed off at the management but refusing to leave because he "completes something once he started it" I kept telling him how since he was "so much more qualified & experienced than me he had more options, he wasn't stuck here like me, he didn't have to take this shit and wait here" (insert *sweet voice & fluttering eyelashes*) and anyway about a week ago he suddenly handed in his resignation

The biggest reason is that obviously he's pissed off at the big man in charge.....but for my own peace of mind I like to think I played a small part in it

Anyway I pissed him off so badly today he's giving me (& everyone else) the silent treatment. For a man who has no problem insulting every single thing about what you say, do, look like AND your family members he gets awfully sulky when you tell him you'll "never take advice from him".

Sorry I don't want to take advice from someone whose personality & values I genuinely dislike and who spends a majority of his time shit talking his wife - like you are clearly miserable AND I have 0 respect for you, why would I want your advice?? If anything I want my life to be nothing like yours. I don't want to grow to be this bitter & rotten. I don't want the people around me to text each other behind my back consoling each other because I'm that much of a shithead

He'll say something very personal and insulting about you and laugh his ass off, then he'll look at you to see if you're laughing. If you're not he'll slam his hand onto the desk next to you and ask why you have no personality/are boring (genuinely think he takes delight in how much the slamming has an effect on you - if you're more likely to flinch he'll do it more often)

But the SECOND you return that treatment he gets butthurt girl what happend to you

This man is 20 YEARS my senior, SIR WHO THE FUCK SHAT IN YOUR CEREAL

I've never met anyone so obviously insecure? so obviously trying hard to fit in with the younger office crowd around him, but the only way he knows to do that is by being loud & crass & mean? So much of a hypocrite but so oblivious to the fact?

Anyway congrats to this fucker who in the 2 and a half weeks I have known him has managed to be, in no particular order, : racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, islamaphobic, ableist, violently angry, fatphobic, a braggart, a big fan of corporal punishment, thinks he's funnier than he actually is and gets angry when you disagree, thinks he's smarter and more capable than every single person to ever exist, spent minutes talking about how stupid our 21 year old coworker (who refuses to talk to him) is, a HUGE fucking hypocrite AND SOMEHOW MORE

edit:

HE PUT HIS SMALL AS FUCK CHILDREN ON SPEAKER SO WE COULD ALL HEAR HOW SCARED THEY WERE WHEN HE THREATENED TO COME HOME IF THEY DIDN'T IMMEDIATELY GO TO SLEEP. WHO DOES THAT!? I'VE NEVER HEARD SOMEONE'S VOICE "QUIVER IN FEAR" BEFORE THEN AND I NEVER WANT TO HEAR IT AGAIN, SPECIALLY WHEN ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE IS A 5YR OLD JFC

I feel like I'm making up a cartoon villain😭

[seireitonin]

Do you have any 30 year old Toby head cannons?

(Omg yay a rare question:3 no one ever acknowledges 30 year old Toby! Kinda sucks bc I think his story as he grows up is so cool! Like man literally gets possessed and almost dies or dies depending on how you look at it. Anyway onto the hcs. There’s gonna be some canon stuff mixed in too :3)

🪓 After being taken in by Slender at 17, and continuing to kill people for most of his life, he’s become so desensitized to danger and violence

🪓 I mean he got mixed in with killers and criminals at 17 and solidified his space within them by 25

🪓 But Toby is full of himself. Cocky. Obnoxious. Cold. He thinks he’s untouchable due to his strength, being good at fighting and his CIPA.

🪓So when he flies too close to the sun and gets caught and taken into an asylum at 30, it’s almost like he doesn’t believe it. This isn’t really happening to him is it?

🪓So when he gets strapped down to a table like an animal and put in a straight jacket, it still doesn’t make sense to him. He’s untouchable.

🪓 Since the people who work at this asylum don’t really see him as human or care, they experiment on him

🪓They play in his body and mind like a playground

🪓They took one of his eyes out without putting him to sleep. He can’t feel it anyway right?

🪓 The treatment is brutal. The treatment is cruel. It takes what little sanity he had left.

🪓 Not because it hurts, obviously, but because it reminds him of that helpless feeling of abuse

🪓 He was a man now. Not a 17 year old being abused by his dad. So why was he in this helpless position?

🪓 Was all that killing he did to get stronger and to feel more powerful for nothing? Was he always meant to be controlled and abused by other people?

🪓 This is the point Slenderman helps him get out. Toby is an even more perfect puppet now.

🪓 Toby tries to let go of anything connecting him to his humanity. He believes it made him weaker.

🪓 Gets more brutal with his killing

🪓 Almost like a wounded animal lashing out, because he is. His pride is hurt. And ironically, his heart is hurt

🪓 Being in that asylum really brought back memories of his dad and how he’s one of the reasons he’s in this fucked up position in his life in the first place

🪓He’s even more pissed that he has one eye now

🪓 Everyone makes fun of him for it causing more violent episodes

🪓 Doesn’t want to be seen as weak or less than. So he uses violence to assert himself. He’s more insecure than ever about it now

🪓 He won’t be under anyone or be bullied by anyone ever again. Or be beneath anyone ever again.

🪓 Still has a sliver of empathy. In his own way, still doesn’t want to be like his dad

🪓 Refuses to trust anyone except for the people closest to him

🪓Assumes most people want to hurt him or take advantage of him

🪓 His whole life is miserable. Why is he even here?

🪓 Has tried to kill himself multiple times, but Slenderman has “blessed” him with immortality. Lucky him.

🪓 Part of him wants to stop and try and get better but he knows he probably can’t. So he delves even deeper into the violence. He’s miserable.

🪓Any healing and progress he’s made through his relationships romantic or not is completely gone.

🪓 He’s colder, crueler and meaner than ever

🪓Not because he hates the people he cares about, but he’s doing it to protect himself in his mind. He’s just terrified of loosing them or being hurt. Or his worst fear, hurting them. Especially if it’s a romantic partner.

🪓 “It’s a waste of your fucking time, trying to care about me. We both know there’s no hope for me” He tells them as he glares with the one eye he has left. And he means every word.

🪓 Pushes everyone away from him. He can’t handle the thought of his progress and the people he cares about being ripped away from him.

🪓”God, someone help me” he often thinks to himself. But he knows no one’s coming. He knows no one can save him. Despite how bad he wants it.

🪓So he’ll “help” himself. More killing. More violence. More bloodshed. More sex. More everything. Just to have control over something. Anything.

🪓 A dead man walking

[kissesforsatoru]

Your writing is awesome! Can I possibly ask for some headcanons for Izana Kurokawa?

pairing : izana x gn!reader

summary : general yandere hc’s for izana

⤷ cw : NSFW 18+, general yandere themes, manga spoilers, violence, threats, manipulation, unhealthy relationships.

notes : i’m gonna be totally honest, i didn’t read the manga before i got this ask, but i spent all yesterday reading it so that i could do this for you nonnie. and let me tell you,,, i have some THOUGHTS about izana. but it’s kinda long sorry 😭

– izana doesn't really like people, especially new people, so the only way i see this happening is if shinichirou introduces the two of you while he's still in the detention center. and even then, he would hate you at first. you aren't his family, you don't care about him--you're just here because shin is, and that really annoys him. he thinks that you're just trying to take up his precious time with shinichirou, and it pisses him off more than anything--even if you smile at him sickeningly sweet and genuine, even if you're nicer to him than you are shin, even if you only seem to pay attention to him the entire visit, all you'll ever receive from him for the longest time is a sneer of his lip and the cold shoulder.

– but eventually his hatred for you drives him to think about you more than he would like to. and he notices every little thing about you because it all drives him mad with annoyance--like how you gasp and perk up whenever shin catches you in a lie or tells an embarrassing story about you, or how you get quieter when you have a snack or drink with you, or how you can't sit still when you're excited- or how when you're tired you start to sway and your pretty eyes start flutter, and he can tell you're trying desperately to stay awake but you always fail miserably. he hates every single one of those annoying habits, but god, does it make his heart flutter whenever he thinks about them after you and shin leave.

– then one day you just stop coming. he doesn't know why because shin refused to tell him, but of all the things that ever pissed him off about you, this one was the one that got him most riled up. so, when he's finally out of the detention center the first thing he does after meeting shin is find you, and once he does, you will belong to him--even if he doesn't kidnap you or even talk to you at first, you're still his.

– izana is a very manipulative and patient man, so he will wait till he has you in the palm of his hand to take you, no matter how long that takes. he'd install cameras and listening devices in your house, have trackers installed on multiple of your devices, do background checks on you and have his men stalk you--anything he can do to get information about you, it'll be done. he wants to know everything about you so that he can use it all to manipulate you into being his, but also so that he can be the perfect person for you. if he already knows your favorite foods and drinks, if he already knows the shows you like, if he can already pick up on your slight mood changes, if he does the things that make you swoon, then you're more likely to only need him and not some other person

– and once he has you, i honestly think he'd be worse than mikey, because at least mikey has a support system, but izana does not. he's unstable and doesn't trust people easily or at all, which makes him lonely. so when you're the only person left aside from kakucho that he truly loves and cares about, there's no way that he's letting you go or even giving you the chance to think about leaving him. he locks you up and only ever lets you leave if he's with you and if it's absolutely necessary. you don't have friends- why would you need them anyway? you have izana. and if you're really that desperate then izana will begrudgingly let you call kakucho your friend. but he wants you to depend on only him, because if you're gonna be the only person he has, then he will be the only person you have.

"i'm the only one you have, angel. nobody understands you like i do, not even kakucho. you need me, just as much as i need you, okay?"

– and like i said, he's lonely and unstable, so i think that he's very needy. he wants you to love him, please for the love of god just love him. he wants to hold you in his arms and he wants to be held in your arms, he wants you to tell him that you care about him and that you will be his family if nobody else in this world will be. he never says any of this to you, because as much as he wants it he's not someone that just admits his feelings, but he makes it very obvious in the way that he acts--glaring at you when you get up from bed to go do something and stopping when you're back in his arms, pointing out that you've been getting quite fond of kakucho in an annoyed tone, looking at you expectantly when he talks about family, like he wants you to say something. and you think that it's kind of cute that he desperately needs these things from you. you can't really be mad at him because he's just a broken, lonely person that just wants someone to love and care about him.

– honestly i can't see izana knowing a lot about sex, let alone having any expirience, but while he was in the process of manipulating you into being his, i think he'd definitely learn. because again, he wants to be the perfect person for you. he's soft and takes his time just thrusting at a nice, even paces that's pleasurable for both of you. and when he eats you out or blows you, it's very sloppy cause he doesn't know what he's doing, but he does know that you taste good and he can't stop until he makes you cum. i also think that he'd be a bit emotional during sex--not too emotional, but more than usual you know. it's when he tells you just how much you mean to him and that you make him feel so good all the time, but especially now when his thrusts are getting desperate, and he just wants to cum all over you cause you're so fucking pretty. yeah, he's extra needy during sex. it doesn't happen all that often, but sometimes he can get rough and aggressive during sex, mostly when he's super stressed or in a bad mood, and when that happens he gets more possessive than needy. he tells you that you're his and makes you tell him how good you're feeling and that he's the only one that can make you feel that ways--much different compared to when he's in a better mood.

"shit, shit, shit. you feel so fucking good. i'm making you feel good too, yeah? mhm, yeah, yeah i am."

– izana is the same as mikey when it comes to taking care of his darlings misebehavior. if you so much as think about disobeying him, then he's quick to correct it using any means possible. you know, the usual cutting, hitting, starving, isolating, even psychological abuse--it doesn't matter to him because as much as he loves and cares about you, he will not let you disrespect him by misbehaving ever again. i think that if you piss him off enough, he'd "let you go", but he's actually just letting you see for yourself that you need him. you have no family, no friends, no job, no money--you have absolutely nothing, because izana has always been the one to provide for you. and when you're about to be attacked by some aggressive gangsters that you just so happened to bump into and piss off (izana set them up), all you can think about is how much you want to go back to him. and once you admit that to yourself, he's won. it's kind of fucked up and manipulative, but it reminds you that you are nothing without him, and you will never be anything without him.

[batsplat]

omgg i started following you because i loved your motogp posts and i did not expect to get emotionally attacked about my tennis fave like this. you've lit expressed everything ive felt abt tennis lately like daniil's return game has developed so well these last few years if only his shoulders were still functional he wld be soo unstoppable (i remember like last 2 year-ish when his serve suddenly went to shit and i was like wtf is going on?? but then it turned out his shoulders don' work anymore😭😭😭) ngl i did not expect him to make it to the ao finals this yr at all but then he did and i started getting hope again and then well uk what happened next... (i actually went to bed when he was up 2 sets because i alrdy had premonitions for what was abt to happen and i didnt need that experience twice 😭) anyways i finally quit watching the men's tour reguarly middle of this yr-ish because mostly because my biggest opp started winning big tournanments/slams consistently and i cld not take it anymore (part of why i got into motogp ig, i needed a new thing to fill in the hole)

also ur thing being having to be the chosen one in men's tennis is soo true but i wld argue it cld even be broadened down to being in the chosen generation... every 90s born player doomed to be seen as the weak links of the sport, both forever destined to be surpassed by those who came before and those who came after...

anyways mostly i also just wanted to thank you for writing all your super information motogp posts!! not only is ur writing style super informative/consistent, all the topics u've written abt feel super unique like i doubt i wld ever randomly stumble elsewhere. i'm not that good w/ words so idk how to fully express my appreciation, but your posts are the main reason i started delving into more past motogp races and interviews instead of just sticking to current ones which has 1000% made my experience of becoming a motogp fan more enjoyable!

🥺🥺 such a nice ask from a fellow sufferer... I actually tried to sleep in for the ao final and managed for like. maybe a set. it's so funny to have a whole fanbase quite literally begging their player not to go up two sets to love, zero hindsight needed I was HORRIFIED by that second set going his way... especially since I noticed the balance of play in the actual games had changed and meddy wasn't winning any return points anymore, just relying on an earlier break to seal that set iirc. and then I started going for increasingly desperate tactics to distract myself when the inevitable happened in the next three sets (including rewatching marc marquez: all in, it was rough man, like I get what you're saying about getting into motogp to escape because generally I too have fled to this sport whenever tennis has most been pissing me off)

and obviously that final was very trauma flashbacks to my definitive sports trauma, a match I'm STILL not over and at this rate have accepted I'll be miserable about until the day I die. but this time I couldn't even BLAME him because it was an insane effort to even get to the final, he'd done such a fantastic job given his tennis really wasn't there at the start of the tournament, he just kept figuring out ways to win... the hurkacz match where he basically ran out of fuel in the fourth, that crazy semifinal where he just refused to know when he was beaten, and then taking two sets off sinner in that final!! the resilience and the grit but also the tactical acumen, like my god when he blindsided hurkacz by radically altering his return position RIGHT AFTER doing that post-match back-and-forth with courier where he explained in detail why he favoured his regular return position. the cleverness and the bravery he showed in clutch points in that semi, something that zverev is completely incapable of (monte carlo 2023 still lives rent free lol), like the psychology of that match slapped. how he took it so sinner, completely caught him off guard by mixing up his game, and it was WORKING. really managed to change the dynamic of that match up... he lost that match first and foremost in his legs. just so cruel after everything. we had the guy who easily disposed of an admittedly rubbish djokovic in the semis on the ropes. and it still. was. not. fucking. enough. one of the best slam final runs in recent memory and it still wasn't enough!! he's already far outperformed what he SHOULD have been capable of in his career and somehow he keeps developing a game style which should have plateaued ages ago and I have so much respect for the work him and gilles have done post-2022... and he really should have more to show for it

anyway yeah I remember the serve decline in 2022, back when I was really in the weeds with analysing meddy's game. and that was also the year it felt like his legs completely deserted him. his deciding set record that year was horrific after ao, very rarely even got it that far win or lose and when he did so almost always lost (karatsev was cramping, let's not talk about the other third set win)

scorelines from the tour finals genuine miracle i did not throw myself into the sea

only one four set match post-ao and he also lost that, incidentally. and obviously that was partly because his brain was fucked, BUT I also wondered whether it was the aftereffects of the hernia operation that year affecting both the physicality and the serve. and I can't remember if he confirmed that anywhere but the theory's certainly cottoned on to help explain the serve decline, even if his endurance obviously has massively improved again. and then add in the shoulder... it's so brutal because it used to be such a key pillar to his game, like the whole magic was tied together by being able to whizz through his own service games while making his opponent's return games hellish

and like,, the thing I really admire about him is that there was a period in 2022 where it did feel like he'd been 'figured out', like there was increasingly a game plan that could be used against him. serve and volley, etc etc. but to some extent, he's managed to resist just being written off when facing elite competition BECAUSE he keeps coming up with ways to throw his opponents off-balance. what he's been doing this year, for all that it hasn't gotten him great results, has been so much fun to watch - really reminded me of his summer/autumn 2019 stretch where he'd played so much he should've constantly been at risk of keeling over of exhaustion but adapted to it by just becoming a completely different player. wawrinka uso 2019 match still goes crazyyyy, one of his most underrated performances. serve and volley in the uso 2019 final I wanna run to u. it's such a wonderfully unique game that's frankensteining all these unique parts together that all sort of shouldn't work but all sort of do, harnessed and constantly reinvented by (let's face it) the smartest top player currently in the game. and it really does piss me off that he hasn't been rewarded more. he's been the best of the rest since 2019, he's absolutely maximised his game for someone who doesn't have that stratospheric big three-level of talent and I WANT it to actually matter. but men's tennis will always see talent triumphing over guile I fear, and meddy has consistently been a victim of poor timing

and yeah, the generational aspect is true, where the entire ''''''''nextgen''''''''' cohort has essentially been doomed - partly because they just weren't good enough, but partly because they arrived at just the right time window to still be thoroughly traumatised by the big three without getting any kind of a break before the next super talents showed up. until 2022 I really did naively believe we were getting a chaos era of SOME kind until that decrepit spanish ghoul showed up in australia to trample all over my soul and give me depression, and then immediately another bloody spaniard started going at it. how can you not be a little bit bitter that alcaraz got to swan to his first slam title without having to face a single member of the big three? idk man like sometimes it really is the magic of sports that the anointed few don't just have talent on their side, they are also fantastically lucky. you see it with how the big three all secured their first slams... things just seem to work out somehow. infuriating and existentially horrifying

anyway. lol. as you can see I do always have a tennis rant in me. will always be a major part of my life, obviously something I have a far far better understanding of than any other sport, still keep up with the women's game fairly closely... where icl it helps that the players I'm most invested in have dropped off SO badly this year, partly due to injury, that I can merrily ignore their existence. plus, and this bit is crucial, I don't loathe the players who actually win things. so I'm in a happy place where I just enjoy the sport and (if anything) want Certain top players to do better than they currently are... but also don't lose any sleep over the results. like, have I been massively frustrated with iga this year? yes, but it's also not made me stare at a wall for five hours. also, it's just been a way better product than this predictable basher servebot shit from the men. women's wimbledon semi day THE best tennis day of the year, prove me wrong. they've had actual classic matches, which the men have been noticeably short on. just sort of been an odd season for the men, with djokovic shrivelling and alcaraz patchy outside of two slams and sinner doing his whole 'I'm not a cardboard cut out I'm a REAL boy' routine on his way to fifty hard court titles and everyone else irrelevant. as I've already said... it's fine. whatever. hope the sport enjoys fifty thousand alcaraz/sinner slam wins as the earth keeps turning around the sun and eventually we all turn to dust. it's fine

and seriously, thank you for everything in the ask... always happy to hear I've made someone's fan experience like. better. and that I add something a little bit different to the mix lol, also literally no compliment I like to read more than anything to do with my actual writing. because this ask was so lovely, here's my personal favourite moment as a tennis fan this year:

still think that australian open title should be restored to us

[alchemistc]

i have pcos and no insurance so I can't really afford to do anything about it. anyway, I usually only have like 1 or 2 periods a year. Those periods are BRUTAL but I'm always like, eh, could be worse. Anyway, I just finished up a nearly 70 day long period. it wasn't like a full period the whole time, but still blood and cramps and I felt like I was dying most days, but at the same time I was like "welp, that's life I guess? I'm sure others have gone through it and didn't complain like I feel like doing!" it's such a fucked up way to think too, but I do it all the time.

Nonny it's been a few days so I hope you see this before I start my purge of all info related to my own cycle.

I'm sorry you're having to deal with that. I'm in the same boat but even before I quit my job because the possession of a uterus was actually turning me nearly catatonic I'd given up finding a doctor who would both take my issues seriously AND provide a solution that wasn't 'take birth control'.

I understand that works for some and I'm happy for them but the places any version of bc I've ever tried send my head are DARK and with the state of the world as it is I'd be a miserable, angry, depressed bastard 23.95 hours out of the day.

This explanation is not something I can reliably offer a doctor without them looking at my family medical/mental health history and slapping a "hysteria" stamp on my proverbial folder.

I've had consecutive two week cycles, I've had cycles that last an entire month, I've gone a month and a half and wondered if the old bag hasn't finally just decided to fuck off only to have the most excruciating cramps I've ever felt for a week and a half before I even bled. There is no rhyme or reason. There is no pattern. And honestly tracking it anywhere but in an easily burnable notebook concerns me, even in this blue island I live in.

It's a nightmare, and they've pushed the geriatric pregnancy age back just in time for me to hit the original deadline so I can't even use that as an excuse anymore. The idea that I have someone who would go to a courthouse in a second just so he could be there to tell my doctors he signs off on whatever shit they refuse to do bc I'm childless and unmarried is great but also rankles so fucking much because I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO DO THAT AND NEITHER SHOULD HE.

Women's health is a joke. And the problem is the medical field doesn't care. Yes, there are a million and two doctors who have made it known they're down to perform a tubal ligation no questions asked, but that's because it used to be a form of eugenics so everyone has medical knowledge in it. They don't research this shit. No one funds it. Even doctors focused in reproductive health haven't known what adenomyosis is when I tell them my mother had her uterus removed at 29 and before that she'd spent two years in the most horrendous pain any human has ever had to deal with.

I hope you take comfort in knowing you aren't alone in that struggle, even if the idea of it being such a regular issue mostly just pisses me off. If you ever need a place to scream about it my DMs are open.

[atopvisenyashill]

Can you tell us more about your female Joffrey/Cersei only has daughters au?

okay so i can’t remember if it was @chena-h or @shunnedmorlock bc both of them were talking about how cersei would lose her mind over this, but i DO think there’s a high chance cersei feels her daughter is the ymbq. i think she’d become terrified that her oldest is going to kill her two youngest and herself. i think jaime does not take her hostile turn towards their oldest seriously (the way he doesn’t take her hostility towards tyrion seriously literally until tyrion is on death’s row).

not concrete yet but i think i’ve decided on jocelyn, myrcella, and *coughs* lucinda or tyana for the names. i think cersei is clearly picking names that are westerlander And stormlander names as a dig at robert (we Don’t have any other myrcella’s so it’s hard to be sure but the westerlands love to throw a bunch of e’s and y’s in their names and the stormlanders love a three syllable (cassana, ravella, argella, cassandra, cyrenna, johanna, etc etc) so it feels like a safe assumption to make). Jocelyn is common enough while also stormlander associated, also it’s a J haha. I haven’t found a T name for a girl that crosses over both except tya lannister/tyana wylde, but i Do know there’s lucinda crossover, and the joke of like, tommen being named for a lannister king but being so young & sweet and unable to live up to that name vs lucinda being given the most old lady name imaginable is funny to me. wish we had more lannister queen names 😭

i think after daughter number three, jon arryn sits all three baratheon boys down and goes “one of you needs to have a fucking son, i just finally did it, now one of you needs to please for the love of the seven” and robert goes WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY. ARE THE LORDS CLAIMING THEY *WOULDNT* FOLLOW MY DAUGHTER? THEYRE GONNA PASS HER UP FOR WHOMST EXACTLY. A FUCKING PENROSE? THAT NEWBORN VELARYON? FOR THAT DRAGONSPAWN ACROSS THE SEA? I DONT THINK SO! and before jon can finish his sentence Robert is officially naming Jocelyn the heir to the iron throne TO BE QUEEN when he dies, and everyone who doesn’t like it can suck shit.

I think jon can talk robert into putting a little clause in there that says like “if i have a true born son, he’ll go before Jocelyn but if that time never comes, Jocelyn WILL succeed me as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the crown will pass to her first born son.” but robert is really serious about like,,,, regardless of if stannis or renly have a son, it’s ROBERT’S KID that comes next, not one of those two dweebs.

Tywin imo thinks Cersei Fucked Up Somehow. He’s not saying he won’t back Jocelyn, but he IS saying if Cersei had just had a boy, there wouldn’t be this problem. He's blaming this on Cersei and really mad because of course Genna wrote him a mean letter saying if Tywin refuses to acknowledge Tyrion as heir, there’s always Cersei and her girls and it pissed him off so much he sat in silence gaping at Kevan for three straight hours.

Tyrion "History Understander And Enjoyer" Lannister finds this hilarious. He literally cannot stop laughing at how absurd this all is.

Jocelyn…..okay so the way i see joffrey is joffrey is a kid just RULED by his first, base instinct. his instincts, his core emotions, tell him to love and trust both robert and cersei, and imo he twists himself into a MONSTER to try to appeal to both of them. no one else matters - not his siblings, not his uncle, not his grandfather, not the realm. he needs to be the sort of vicious person they could BOTH be proud of, he needs to be BETTER THAN THEM BOTH AT VIOLENCE, so he absorbs all of their faults and none of their virtues.

ANYWAYS, so this translating to a girl - who idolizes her violent father, loves & resents her manipulative and miserable mother, suspects but would NEVER say out loud the truth about her paternity, fucking HATES all of her uncles - imo means she’s got a reputation for being unpleasant & hypercritical, can’t hold onto a lady or a maid because she straight up slaps them when they fuck up, sexually humiliates the court fool (hashtag serving saera realness), like i think she is known for being Gorgeous And Difficult. i’m trying to think of a comparison. A mean girl but not nearly as charming because under all that vileness is a sullen little shithead who can and will throw a tantrum to get her way. Regina George but significantly more pathetic. Cordelia Chase without the heart. All the popularity of Quinn Fabray all the pathetic hysterics of Rachel Berry none of the intelligence of either girl.

Robert does Not enjoy her for a long time, same as canon. She looks exactly like Cersei, she’s catty and mean to everyone around her like Cersei, and while she quickly dropped the habit, she had a worrying violent streak as a little girl that Robert misliked so much he nearly beat her to death over it. It wasn’t cute and outdoorsy like Lyanna, it was the exact same cat killing shit. Cersei really loves and gets along with her in the beginning. She’s not the sweet perfect daughter Myrcella is, but she’s a mini Cersei, and Cersei loves having An Ally Against Robert.

THEN. She’s named heir and this dynamic completely flips. Cersei becomes distant, paranoid, essentially treating her like she does Sansa, with a sort of threatening affection, and Robert doesn’t become a doting father overnight but he DOES expand her education, and let her be Jon Arryn’s cupbearer, and drunkenly rants to her about his battle days. Cersei becomes determined to have a son.

HOWEVER. When her sadistic streak doesn’t go away by like 10, I do think Robert flips on her again. He has no fucking intention of unnaming her, especially because he hasn’t had another son, but I think a girl with a hard time controlling her temper would stand out in a worse way, and Robert would worry if she’s TOO much like her mother, especially when he can’t get her to hold onto a lady to give her another influence. the thing is, now that cersei is convinced jocelyn is going to destroy her, she doesn’t have another parent to run to. does she cling harder to robert, turn to someone else? if sandor is still her personal guard, i mean jesus fucking christ how is THAT going.

Been going back and forth on if this means Stannis brings Shireen to court. That Robert & Jon, hoping to straighten Jocelyn out, would try to give her a companion in sweet Shireen.

I’ve also been debating like,,, who Robert would betroth her to once Jon Arryn is killed (because Petyr & Lysa are still doing their thing, so even regardless of if, maybe, Stannis tries slightly harder to have a son, and winds up having another kid, or Cersei & Jaime have yet another daughter even after their third, Jon Arryn will still die and there’s no one else Robert would trust as Hand than Ned. Altho what i AM debating is whether this speeds the plot up a bit more by Robert asking for a betrothal AND a lady’s companion early? Because I think Jocelyn becomes a problem Jon wants to unseat much quicker, so he and Stannis wind up suspecting something is up with her a little quicker?? idk i’m still thinking it out). BUT ANYWAYS. Because Robb is three years older, and Bran is four years younger, and i’m kind of assuming they’d do a Myriah thing instead of a Laenor thing bc Robb has two younger brothers? So Robb would no longer inherit Winterfell, Bran would? Would they WANT a husband four years younger rather than three years older?

anyways that’s like, my characterization. i’m really getting into the weeds with this one because i kind of love it. there’s two like, forks in the road i think i could go here and i’ve been debating between them -

I’m just unsure if Jon doesn’t stumble on the incest earlier. It might not be TOO much earlier, i mean joffrey is only 12 when jon dies but a year? two years? especially if cersei has another blond haired green eyed daughter. if he can genuinely put the pieces together faster, before he starts talking about sending sweetrobin away, that’s a big change. but if he figures it out faster AND is also like “hey can i send sweetrobin to your place i know he’s like five but things are gonna get dicey here and also i want to get him away from lysa” that means agot still essentially happens (the catalyst of it) just earlier.

on the other hand, does robert approach ned about a betrothal earlier because of the inheritance issue with robb? does BRAN grow up heir to winterfell and robb with the knowledge he may one day be king consort of westeros? which also leads me to how robert would approach this - would he take the excuse to visit Ned to ask for this so they can hammer out the details? does robert just fully give up on the idea of having a son at some point, and THATS when he asks Ned, completely independently of whatever scheming Jon Arryn is doing?

so there’s one au where lysa still offs jon arryn, and agot plays out but with robert asking for robb, sansa, and arya to come south with ned bc robb is gonna marry jocelyn.

and then of course there’s another branch where jon exposes the incest earlier and…would varys try to off him? would lf take the opportunity to sow some chaos be ensuring the lannisters stay in power? the moment robert knows, he’s storming cersei’s rooms to murder them all, but if cersei finds out beforehand, she and jaime are going to REACT.

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

Are these two lowlifes serious?

I know that China and Chinese dramas are big on filial piety, but come on now. There has to be a point where even Confucianism says it's OK to boot out toxic relatives on their asses when they literally come for your life and livelihood.

***

That's right, Minglan, get up and walk away from this bullshit.

There is no need to even give them the time of day.

***

Fuck off.

Also, if your rapist, human-trafficking shitbag sons get beheaded? It will be no great loss for humanity.

Unfortunately, Gu Tingye will eventually save them, or if he absolutely refuses, the Emperor will do it himself because he will not be able to stand having his favourite subject's name sullied. Endless hate.

***

LMAO, your wife is pissed off.

Get your shitty relatives under control.

***

Wait. Are Xiaotao and Shitou a thing?

Is that something that a thing that happened and I slept on it?

***

Again, I have to reiterate how lucky Minglan is to have married Gu Tingye, who is a man with a brain and a spine, and above all, is madly in love with her.

He will always shield her and stand up for her, which is what the losers Qi Heng, He Hongwen and Liang Han would never have done.

Also, fuck Qi Heng yet again. This is all his shitty doing. He has done so much damage to her reputation! She is married and his garbage is still following her. She's just lucky that she is now out of his reach and he and his shitty wife can no longer touch her.

***

LMAO, I love them 🤣🤣

***

Don't you just love it when people who deserve no respect crow about not getting the respect they think they're due 🙄

Bitch, you just tried to blackmail her and then dragged up her past to have him divorce her. Fuck you.

***

My guy, your cousins are rapists and traffickers preying on the powerless.

If the Emperor was to execute them this instant and you didn't lift a finger to help them? You would still be right. Scumbags deserve to die. There are at least two rapes that they committed and blamed you for that we have been made aware of since this show started, in addition to other obscenities.

Let them die. Let them all die and start the family over from scratch with Minglan.

***

Fuck you.

You did not hesitate one second to throw Minglan to the wolves. You must have known her shitty in-laws would do nothing good with the information you gave them, and yet you still went there and told them anyway. You and Qi Heng deserve each other. Go forth and have a miserable existence together!

***

Snatch him back? LMAO, you never had him to begin with!

Also, let me just LMAO here over the fact that there are apparently multiple women out there fighting over Qi Heng's loser ass.

***

Lady, quit while you're ahead.

Your time is over.

***

Jesus Christ, his back 😵

And he still grieves for his pos father. It's only a pity they did not let him see him on his deathbed so that he could spit on him before he shuffles off to the underworld.

***

At least you still remember that he saved your worthless hide.

Go fuck yourself and maybe reconnect to reality while you're at it.

***

Oh, ffs.

I thought Tingwei was going to be a good guy because he did not take part in setting Tingye up, but it seems like he is also a weak-minded imbecile and a rapist. Any man having sex with slaves and trafficked women is a rapist, no ifs or buts about it. Fuck him. He can get beheaded right along with his shitty cousins.

This entire family is just pure crap from top to bottom. The only one resembling a decent human is Gu Tingye and even that is only because he took after his mother and was raised by his mother's people.

***

Aww, poor baby, he was instigated into taking two concubines 🙄

It's not like he could, you know, just not stick his stinky dick into every woman he can.

[acourtofthought]

Rhys was Feyre's biggest supporter. He was the the one who wanted her deepest, darkest thoughts, who got real and raw.

“You are no one’s subject.”

“You want to save the mortal realm?” he asked. “Then become someone Prythian listens to. Become vital. Become a weapon. Because there might be a day, Feyre, when only you stand between the King of Hybern and your human family. And you do not want to be unprepared.”

“You didn’t ask. And why bother? Better to be miserable and alone.”

“Work for me,” Rhysand said.

Rhysand was silent beside me. Yet after a moment, he said, “Out with it.” I lifted a brow. “You say what’s on your mind—one thing. And I’ll say one, too.”

Cassian was Nesta's biggest supporter while also the one who wanted to understand, who confronted her with hard truths.

“You won’t join me for practice, so you sure as hell aren’t going to hold your own in a fight. You won’t talk about your powers, so you certainly aren’t going to be able to wield them.

I’m pissed off that you can’t seem to believe even one good thing about her. That you refuse to fucking believe one good thing about her. Was it necessary to bait her like that?

“I’m tired of playing these bullshit games.”

Her gloved fingers scraped against his calluses, but he held firm. “Talk to me. Nesta. Tell me—”

Was either male always perfect? No. Did they make mistakes along the way and say the wrong thing from time to time? Definitely. Did other characters also show support for Feyre and Nesta? Sure.

But it cannot be denied that Rhys and Cassian were the main catalyst for both Feyre and Nesta's transformation into who they were meant to become. They were the ones who, throughout the females depression, kept pushing for them to fight and live (and I don't just mean in a warrior fighting sense. I mean to be more and do more). More than any other character, Rhys and Cassian fought for Feyre and Nesta.

Can the same be said for Azriel? Is he Elain's biggest supporter? Have we ever seen him encourage her? Tell her she is capable of more? Even with TT, he wasn't telling Elain she had it in her to wield it, he told her the blade itself was possibly magic and would strike true so really, she didn't need to do much at all. And thank goodness Mor begged him to sit out of the war otherwise I doubt he'd have offered up TT in the first place anyway.

Every single moment where Az could have stepped up for Elain, where he could have encouraged her to say more, could have encouraged her to do more, he dropped the ball.

“Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.” “I—I don’t know how to use it—” “I’ll make sure you don’t have to,” I said, grass crunching as I stepped closer.

First Az tells Elain the dagger will serve her. She doesn't need to do much at all since it's magic will strike true. Then when Elain expresses concern over her ability to use it, Az doesn't encourage her, he doesn't tell her he believes in her. Instead Feyre says "you won't have to" and that's that. Neither Az or Elain push Elain to believe in herself.

Especially as he gently said to my sister, “Happy Solstice.” Elain turned from the snow falling in the darkness beyond and smiled slightly. “I’ve never participated in one of these.” Amren supplied from across the room, Varian at her side, resplendent in his princely regalia, “They’re highly overrated.”

Again, Elain opened the door to further conversation with Az after he greeted her. It would have been a perfect time for him to ask what she thought of the festivities so far, the buildup to the holiday. This is her first celebratory gathering since leaving the Human Lands and Az has nothing to ask her?!? It's a big deal for her when you think about why she's never been to one of these yet SJM chooses to have Amren respond, leaving Az to completely drop the conversation with Elain. Sure we later see Feyre mention that he's listening to her talk about seeds but when you look back over the endgame couples, that would be like Rhys asking Feyre in ACOMAF about what paintbrushes she likes best 🤦. We never witness Elain and Az having a deep and meaningful conversation about the real problems they've got going on.

Even in ACOWAR / ACOFAS, we see Lucien talk about her being in love with Graysen and we see him discuss that she's been through something terrible. You know what Az talks about? "You got a power and the NC could use one of those!". He literally says nothing at all to her or even Feyre about the very major problems Elain is dealing with at that point in her life. How she was violated, changed, her physical decline due to eating. Even Feyre thinking about how Az stared at her too-thin body is Feyre's thoughts about Elain's fragile state, we don't know what Az is thinking.

Cassian looked at Rhys, who’d dropped off the middle Archeron sister before retrieving Cassian from Windhaven.

“You and Nesta are wanted down there.” “Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?”

Elain is about to see her sister for the first time in a long time yet SJM has Rhys there to fly her back and forth. And later, we find Azriel had no idea that this major moment between the sisters happened until Cassian tells him. Lucien stays away because he knows Elain doesn't want him around right now (or that's what we're to assume she feels since we don't have her pov). Rhys stayed away from Feyre at the start of ACOMAF because he thought she was happy with Tamlin. Cassian stayed away from Nesta in ACOFAS because Nesta didn't want him around (which she told him in actual words). Az stays away from Elain......... because Az chooses to stay away from Elain. Every other male did what they thought the female wanted while Az does what he wants because of his issues, not because Elain asked that he stay away.

Nesta said to Feyre, “Did you tell Elain?”. Before Feyre could reply, Azriel said, “What about Mor?”

This conversation occurred after Nesta and Elain's fight about her searching for the Trove but in the same scene. The very first words Az speaks after that fight, after Feyre announces her pregnancy and Nesta asks if Elain knows are "what about Mor?". That is what / who Azriel is worried / thinking about?! Considering this male loved Mor for 500+ years but is now supposedly over her, I'd be a little triggered that Mor is the person that he's focused on at this moment.

“Do you think Nesta can find the Trove?” Azriel asked Cassian

(in one scene, we have Azriel ask if Nesta can find the Trove where in a later scene, he flat out tells everyone Elain shouldn't even try)

Amren said, “We do not have the time to wait for Nesta to decide. I say we approach Elain tomorrow. Better to have both of them working on it.”

Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

“But Nesta should?” Cassian growled.

She threw a nod toward Azriel. “Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.”

Who stands up for Elain in this scene? Certainly not Az who seems to have no issues with Nesta searching for the Trove. And since when does an SJM Endgame male love interest believe the female he cares for is less capable of doing something than her sister? Imagine if Rhys had said, "Feyre, I don't think you're able to handle the Weaver so lets send Nesta instead." 😬. And when Amren called Az out, SJM could have had Az apologize and admit she's right but.... we..... get..... NOTHING.

“She made ballrooms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two,” she said, nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly, to Azriel.

Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from.

Another instance where Az could have said something, ANYTHING to Elain, about Elain. This entire scene is Elain talking about her happiness over Nesta and the Valkyries, Elain talking about an experience she had in the human lands, and you know what Az wants to know? What happened to the duke. 🤦

where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them.

Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.

Yes, let's again sit here and just watch Elain yet say nothing to her (which is not the same thing as what's going on with Elucien. Lucien has picked up on Elain's social cues that she is not ready to interact with him so he is respecting that). Az doesn't even nod to her in greeting, just stares at her. This female he's somehow become oh so close to and he's got nothing to say because somehow love is only heated glances and lingering touches. Can you show me one SJM endgame couple whose relationship was built on that?

“Why did you come if it torments you so much?”

“Because Rhys wants me here. It’d hurt him if I didn’t come.”

So I guess it wouldn't hurt Elain if Az didn't show up? He's only worried about how his absence would make Rhys feel? Not the female who, according to some, loves him? And again, since when does an SJM male avoid a female who is open to seeing him because he can't handle it? Elain is willing to be around Az yet he is putting himself first by avoiding her? 🤔. Every other SJM male is willing to take whatever scraps the female throws his way. Rhys knew he was Feyre's mate and when she claimed she only wanted him for fun and a distraction, he gave that to her despite how awful it made him feel. Despite his worries that no one could ever truly want him because of who he was and the baggage that came with it.

Cassian suspected Nesta was his mate yet he still took her offers of "only sex" regardless of how that bothered him and worsened his belief that he'd always be a bastard born nobody. He still pushed to be near her anytime she showed the tiniest bit of willingness.

Az is the only male who avoids a female love interest, unwilling to accept whatever attention Elain might give him since he can't stand that the "third sister" has a bond with someone else and Lucien got to be part of a group with his brothers. Love is supposed to trump the bond, is it not? In the end, the bond isn't supposed to be the thing that matters, right? It's just supposed to be a nice bonus.

"I wasn't sure if I should give you your present". He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, and sleeping a level up."

"He left the rest unspoken". This would have been the moment folks! The moment where Az could have broached the subject about Lucien, with Elain. The moment for us to see him ask her about her bond and what her plans are. It is a huge problem that Az completely avoided the topic that they really need to discuss if they're truly in love with one another.

"This was a mistake".

No, no, no. This is all backwards because SJM likes her females to say this sort of thing, even if they don't mean it. In a romance, no one wants to see the MMC hurt the female, it's much more difficult for the male to get in our good graces after he screws her over. Unless you're into bully romance, then you know what you're asking for, but that's not SJMs style.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"I don't know what you're talking about".

"What of Mor, Az?"

Azriel ignored the question.

"You believe you deserve to be her Mate?"

Azriel scowled. "I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway."

"So you'll what?" "Seduce her away from him?"

Azriel said nothing. He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to."

"If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it"

Azriel snarled softly.

"Rhys, I'm over Mor!" "I want to be with Elain because I care for her!" "I don't want her just for sex!" "We plan on talking to Lucien together!"

There are any number of things SJM could have had Azriel say to Rhys to ease his fears yet Az said none of them. And I don't want to hear that BS that Az doesn't know how to communicate well and that's why he didn't respond. If he's a big enough boy to risk the peace of their entire nation for love, if he's a brave enough boy to risk his life over and over again, he should be able to talk to his friend of over 500 years and reassure him he's not just using Elain to get laid.

If he can't do that then he isn't mature enough to be in a relationship with anyone.

But, I think what it all comes down to is the author purposely chose to let these moments pass by showing us where Azriel dropped the ball. Where he doesn't have what it takes to be the right person for Elain. There were so many opportunities where he could have been her biggest supporter (not protector), where he could have tried having a real conversation with her about her struggles, where he could have opened up and admitted to his own, and where he could have convinced Rhys, aka the readers, that his obsession with Elain was more than lust but he wasn't and he didn't.

And I think that's a pretty strong argument for why E/riel is not meant to be.

[elifinchsart]

some Tillman and Mike gender headcannons/thoughts since i have them mostly coherently typed up and they are important To Me. these are not Universal Trans Experiences just my thoughts for these characters cw for discussing transphobia, dysphoria, fatphobia & bad parents

I think Tillman absolutely did not figure out he was trans until like his early twenties. My headcannon about his mom Harmony (Crab NPC from Discipline Era), her whole thing is control + image. (This led Tillman to also feel like he needs to be in control of his image but, unfortunately it’s easier to control a bad image than a good one)

But part of Harmony's image control was appearing as a perfect rich family so Tillman was expected to dress and behave very femininely. And his thought process went “I hate wearing dresses and getting dressed up like this and I don’t know why I hate it so much. It must be because something is wrong with me and it must be because I’m ugly” + that got mixed in with his weight because I think he’s just naturally chubby/fat. So that was one of those things that’s dysphoria that you don’t realize that’s dysphoria until later. Tillman absolutely he had the trans experience of I’m going to only wear baggy hoodies and beanies lol. Anyway this all manifested into him having a very antagonistic relationship with his body and food (esp bc Harmony is v the passive aggressive “Oh you’re eating/wearing that?” sort of parent. This is also part of the reason he was nasty as a teen/young adult because he was in a lot of pain that he didn’t realize was pain-just that everything was uncomfortable and pissed him off. Figuring out that he was trans, getting top surgery and going on hrt actually helped mellow him out a lot. Being able to just Exist in his body without dressing it up to impress anyone else helped him so so much.

I think Mike was also very helpful in getting him to a better place with his body and especially food as something that should be enjoyed not rationed out or brings misery. Mike loves to make food for people so they had a bit of a roadbump when they first started dating and Tillman refused to eat much of Mike made and they had to talk about it. Mike was very patient and not pushy for once and let Tillman come around on his own. Mike also hyping Tillman up as the hottest man ever helped too LOL. I think Tillman had a lot of apprehension about transitioning wrt still being desirable which is something I’ve def felt and I know other trans men have too

I think Mike had a lot of gender emotions growing up but they never fully formed into anything understandable for him because he was like “well I’m not not a man” and he didn’t really have access to like Knowing About “Weird” Gender Identities despite knowing a trans person (Jaylen) and she only ever had Jaylen to compare to and they have very different genders haha. And then I think in college and after she kinda was like well y’know men can be feminine, men can wear dresses, it doesn’t have to be a gender thing so I’m not going to think about it too hard. I think also she had this idea that maybe she was faking it or not trans enough or people would think he was doing it for attention or to seem punk. Also incredibly stupid logic but I think she was like “I don't want to look like I'm just copying Jaylen” which is a silly thing to worry about but nevertheless. And then Blaseball happens and again he doesn’t really have time to think about it. So its only post shadowing and in therapy that she finally talks to more trans and nonbinary folks about their experiences and starts to approach it from a “what makes me happiest” pov rather than “well I'm not miserable” pov because its a very Mike thing to try to avoid being too happy as a coping mechanism. And because of all this she gets to experiment and decides he likes having a lot of gender especially if it contradicts each other (she/her pronouns on masc days, he/him while dressed femme, beard + dress etc.)

[dollsonmain]

Alright, I need to get away from money spending places. That's enough for one day... Though I made That Guy pay for all of this, and he did pay for the Sharpies and Miniverse set.

Only Renee was like $13 today so I finally ordered a Dream Bestie. I'll steal her body if she comes with bad paint. Portable washing machine in my wishlist was $10 off so went ahead and got that for doll clothes and when I need to wash just my apron or something, Son's keyboard protector, ordered a money book because using an envelope isn't working out super well (it's ok, but not great and a little too easy to toss in my pocket and take shopping >.> ), and some hanging baskets for my hall tree. I'd rather get something that looks cuter, but if it's a basket that I can see through, that's more useful and important for me, personally, since if I can't see through it I won't be able to remember what's inside.

This is a big problem with me at work trying to remember what frozen foods are where in the freezers and how much we have at any given time because they're all in identical cardboard boxes.

Anyway.

Wishing I'd paid for part of that laptop in $5s because I have over $100 in $5s and they're bulky... Oh well. That Guy was standing there both pissed off I was buying a laptop and miserable because he decided we were going shopping while he was sick and wouldn't be deterred. I yelled at him to go back to bed and he refused, so I figured it was better if we went with him so if he was too wiped out by his stupidity then I could at least drive him home safely. He intended to get Son a pre-paid iPhone but decided not to because they weren't on sale.

[hella1975]

we had a woman with a mobility scooter come into the restaurant last night and i refuse to believe she didn't mention it on the booking which means the host was just being a fucking idiot bc he gave her and her husband a table that was clearly hard to access, which is doubly annoying when u consider the restaurant IS accessible and this all could have been avoided with something as simple as her literally just being given a different table. anyway i may have... mentioned once or twice on here that the kind of customers i get are always posh entitled CUNTS, and what happened was she accidentally hit a man's chair as she was trying to get to her table. and yeah she shoved him pretty hard but i could tell IMMEDIATELY that he was fine but he was such a prick about it??? like she straight away started apologising and asking if she'd hurt him and he just fucking ignored her in favour of looking like someone had booted him in the stomach unprompted while he was innocently eating his food? like get a grip? and after that his entire table of six sat in silence STARING as this woman really awkwardly navigated to her table, which took a while and a lot of moving around and generaly garnered a lot more attention than necessary. by the time she eventually settled, i could see by the woman's face that she was mortified and uncomfortable and the table next to hers (with the man she hit) were still just glaring daggers at her. as a waitress there's really not much i can do, but as well as being very clipped with the man's table for the rest of the night and doing petty things like not giving them the vouchers we technically Have To Give Out, we also made a point of really reassuring the woman. and it was the oddest thing bc it was me and another waitress that really took charge of it, and she's the waitress i CANNOT FUCKING STAND. like she's usually such a miserable cunt but i really saw her in a new light because she looked at me and went 'that's not on' and did something about it. basically, the woman had a 9 week old puppy that couldn't go on the floor yet so she had him in her lap the entire time, and under the guise of petting her dog, me and the other waitress just gave her as much positive attention as we could without being overbearing. and then i quietly went to the rest of the staff and explained what had happened and if they could just go over and be friendly for a second (and they get to pet a cute puppy if they do so it's a win-win). and it was just so touching to see bc one by one the ENTIRE floor staff (usually about 10+ people) came over to this woman and i saw her gradually light up more and more and we made a point of asking questions about the dog, and the table next to her were FUMING like i could see them getting more and more pissed off that she was getting so much attention. it was just a really nice moment. and i got to pet a cute puppy