#but I absolutely understand the frustration

[thewistlingbadger]

All the shade in the world when we say we want complex women characters we want more Ellie Williams and other characters whose actions make our insides twist, not frustrate us. We want characters that we hold beloved to become corrupted by fate but still have the opportunity for some redemption.

Caitlyn Kiramman is an interesting character, but she does not fit the bill for the "complex female characters" we desire. Jinx, Vi, and Mel better fit that bill. All three of those women have given us reason to both love and despise them. Many a difficult conversation have they been the subject of. And to me personally Cait just falls flat. And I don't think it's her own fault I think it's the writing. Season 1 cait is 🔛🔝 but season two cait? I understand that she's grieving her mother, HOWEVER, we barely saw any interaction between the two of them and the little that we did see showed us that she wasn't fucking with her like that/they had a complex and somewhat negative relationship. Imagine how the season opened with Cait actually finding her mom's dead body. We would all feel sick, and we'd all pity her. Or imagine had we been given a flashback between her and her mother when she was a child in the garden, having a good time. Or imagine how they just even mentioned the fact that their relationship was strained. Losing a parent is bad, what makes it worse is having unfinished business with that parent (which is why people love the story of Ellie Williams, it's why we understand why she wants to go after her father's killer other than the fact that the killer murdered her father). Caitlin only having one motivation to go after jinx, to descend into hell, to avenge her mother is not even. "Jinx killed mom now I kill Jinx" there's nothing compelling about that. We've seen the story several times.

Just to give a direct comparison.

Jinx's dad was a man she had an extremely complicated relationship with and this relationship was showcased throughout the season. The fact that she essentially lost her sister and killed her father at the same time is what pushes her over the edge. We completely understand why she's going to burn the world down because the show told us over and over and over again. Jinx always manages to lose the people she loves the most, and this time it's happened directly by her own hand.

Jinx's missile only kills three people, blows up a building, and inspiresb fear in the hearts of pilties and amazment in the hearts of Zaunites. Her actions were bad, but ultimately very few people actually suffered from her actions. The council only lost three people, it's not like pilltover's governmentless now (like how zaun is). The damage to the building wasn't that bad and it's easily repairable. And overall from her actions alone the citizens of pilltover are still safe.

Now let's look at cait. She's actively ruining the lives of zaunites by mass gassing them (we also how many kids were on the street. We all know how many homeless and disabled people there are in zaun. Now they're all negatively affected due to cait's lust of vengeance) and by arresting them when they've committed no crime. She's parading around the city with deadly weapons, under the authority of which she does not have! Cait abuses her name and her position as an enforcer to DEMAND that the council follow her plan. She had absolutely no right to storm into there and act like she had the power to call shots. What's even more gross is that she completely lied to them! Her goal was never to locate jinx, it was always to kill Jinx. If she truly cared about bringing jinx to proper justice, she would have ensured she be brought alive. If she truly cared about dismantling shimmer, she would have done that first bc A. Vi knows exactly where the factory is and B. According to silco, the last attack already cut the supply in half. It would have been easy to finish that off. Caitlyn acts like she's judge, jury, and Executioner the entire time she's down there. Her prejudice increases exponentially AS does her willingness to he openly prejudice. She literally refers to Vi's countrymen as animals, and accuses vi of being disloyal several times! and must we truly mention the assault she did? Must we mention that she was willing to kill a kid? That's a line jinx herself has not even willingly crossed yet, and she's practically crossed all other lines.

At the moment Caitlin is not a character who's doing the wrong things for what she believes is the right reason. She's acting out of complete selfishness. Even jinx, who committed an act of terrorism, didn't do it for herself. She did it for her dad, who worked so hard to bring down piltover and didn't live to see it because he refused to trade his daughter for Independence and peace.

So these are just only a few reasons why people don't support her this season. And her level of oppression, arrogance, and maliciousness is exactly why people are calling out those who defend her, because the majority of her defenders are privileged and white.

"We want more complex female characters" you can't even handle an angry, grieving daughter who just had her mother killed by her future wife's sister, shut the fuck up

[revelboo]

I went 50/50 with my brother on a full set of blokees just to ensure I got starscream and Cliff jumper (i got bumblebee too little cutie) I will be going absolutely feral with their transformers one starscream when he drops

They’ve taken over my computer monitor shelf and I can’t understand why there’s no advertising for them to speak of aside from their Insta account.

Fun fact: Everything is Alright was originally going to be a reverse harem including Megs. Reader just collecting the Decepticon high command one by one

Everything Is Alright Pt 54

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Servos trace over your jaw, up to your temple to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear just to prolong the contact with you, because even knowing he has to go, his spark aches. No matter how many times he reassures himself that you’ll be right here, that you’re safe with the SIC, that uncertainty is still there. You reach up to tangle your little fingers with his servos and it almost breaks him, the bittersweet sorrow of your emotions washing into him. Making him wish he’d found you that day on the road, not the Seeker even as he wonders if he’d have taken you or if he’d have left you there hurt on the side of the road, never knowing what he was leaving behind. What he was missing.

• It hurts your heart when Soundwave mass shifts back to his full size and leaves, that unsettled misery in your chest spreading as you watch him go. Knowing how awful you are for wanting them both and how unfair it is to both of them. No matter how you feel about Soundwave, safe, cherished, you can’t hurt Starscream. Not after he’s let you see glimpses of who he really is under the sneering and dismissive scorn he wears like armor. That aching vulnerability he’d shown you had struck a chord inside you, driving home how lonely you’d been before him. He tries so hard to do right by you, take care of you. Sometimes he’s absolutely awful at it, but there’s never any doubt that he’s doing his best. That fragile feeling in your chest unfurls a bit more. Something that might be love, but you’re too scared to examine it too closely. Drawing your knees up against yourself, you pull that blanket he gave you around your shoulders, burying your face in it to inhale the scent of him. Of home.

• Striding through the base, he’s aware of Skywarp trying to greet him and brushing past his brother. He’ll make up for it later, but right now he needs to see you, touch you. Distract himself from the horror Thundercracker has driven into his processor and that’s threatening to drag him into a panic. Letting himself into his quarters, he finds you and your head lifts from where you’re sitting cocooned in that blanket. And he’s reaching for you, curling his servos around you to carefully press your warmth against the sensitive mesh of his neck so he can feel you there. Hating that he doesn’t have the energy to mass shift again yet. Wanting to hold you and frustrated by how tiny you are as you reach to touch his neck and he vents deeply. “Star?”

• “You stink like Soundwave,” he grouses without any real heat his voice. His servos are trembling against you, though. Upset about something. Before you can ask, he lifts you higher to brush his lips against your jaw, neck, and shoulder. There’s a melancholy in his expression that twists through you. Makes you want to hold him to you, because something is clearly wrong. The worst part is knowing he won’t volunteer whatever it is and prying will only make him distance himself. “I can’t mass shift,” he finally says.

• “It’s okay,” you say, leaning in his hands to press your cheek against his chin. Grounding him with that touch, because it’s not okay at all. He’s coming apart at the seams. Cradling your little form, he settles himself on the edge of his berth and gently pins you against his chassis alongside his canopy. As close to his spark as he can get you without exposing that vulnerable part of him to you. If you were Cybertronian, he’d be able to feel your spark if he did. Claim not only your body, but all of you. Bond himself to you. Except there’s no spark for his to entwine with and the compulsion is crazy. The urge to feel your soft hands stroke over his spark, to trust himself so fully to you, giving you the power to destroy him if you wanted to. Even knowing you wouldn’t, he just runs his servos along your spine. And he’s right back to wanting things not meant for him. Wanting everything.

Previous

[angelofwintersky]

snowy night - oneshot

summary: satoru and you are about to go home after your unsuccessful first date, but the car breaks down, making you stay there on a winter night, with no heat and angry glances.

tags: gojo x reader, fluff, winter fic

warnings: none, just swearing

word count: 1.7K

awkward, painful silence sat in the car as you and gojo were driving home from the unsuccessful date you two just had. outside the snow wasn't just gently falling, but pouring from the sky, clouding the windows too, the sun was setting on the horizon, pinkish light illuminating the landscape before you.

your arms were crossed, your gaze looking through the window with slightly narrowed eyes as you try to ignore the white-haired boy sitting next to you with the wheel in his hands and pout on his lips.

you barely even remembered what exactly started the arguement between you two, but you were certain that it was his fault and without an apology, the date shouldn't continue. him acting like the annoying, stubborn person he is, just continued the bickering further, not thinking it would really end the whole date.

well it did.

"going on a date together was a stupid idea to begin with" you think with a quiet huff as your grip on your coat tightens.

all your friends were nagging you to go on a date already, shoko stating that she could see the 'chemistry' between you. well it seems like she's blind, because even when you all are spending time together, you and gojo just cannot get along. never.

could he make you ever smile? yeah that happened sometimes. did you notice that sometime's he's acting like he wants to catch speifically your attention? of course you did. did some of your conversations live rent-free in your head? perhaps.

but.

does that mean that you have to go on a whole ass date just to continue the endless cycle of pushing eachothers buttons? absolutely not.

"are you thinking about how you want to apologise?" he looked at you from the corner off his eye, a suppressed smile tugging on his lips.

"are you?" you glare back. "because if one should apologise that is you and you only."

he just looked back at the road, not ready to admit defeat, but deep down knowing that maybe he shouldn't have tried to make you jealous. at least not on the first date.

"i have nothing to apologise for" he then answered with a shrug, immediately regretting the descision. why was it so hard to just apologise to you? he didn't understand.

"nothing?" you scoff. "you know-"

before you could continue on with your scolding, a loud, sudden sound comes from the front of the car, making you jump a little. the vehicle started to slow down on the snowy road until it eventually stopped, gojo pulling in over just in time.

"what happened?" you glance at him as he's trying to start the engine again, without any success whatsoever.

"no idea" comes the not so helpful answer before gojo opens his door, getting out of the car. "stay inside."

you watch him open the car hood, looking into the car. you follow him, standing next to him in the ankle-deep snow and staring at the vehicle. you place your hands on your hips and lean forward in the hope of seeing something.

"what are we looking at?" you ask.

"i told you to stay inside, it's cold here" he says grumpily, not answering your question.

"oh, so you're suddenly now worried? or just missing that waitress?" you say with a scoff which makes him grin a little.

"so you did become jealous! i knew it!"

"i did not. now stay silent and fix the car, make yourself useful!"

he hums, looking into the vehicle like he is concentrating on something, then back at you.

"i have no idea how this works" he says.

"are you telling me that we're stuck here?" you say every word slowly, frustration penting up in you.

"exactly!" a big smile spreads on his lips. "don't worry, i already told shoko to come and get us."

you narrow your eyes a little bit. the wind was blowing hard, your hair blowing in your face, you felt like you're about to become a snowman if you stand there for more than two minutes.

"then why are we even standing here gojo??"

a dramatic gasp escapes his lips, hand on his heart theatrically.

"c'mon love, not the last name!! did this date mean nothing to you?" he whines.

"you didn't answer my question!" i cross my arms, looking around. we really are in the middle of nowhere. not even street lights were around, it was starting to get dark.

"it's adorable to watch as your cheeks turn red from the cold" he finally answers, not surprising you the least.

"i can't help but feel like you're still trying so hard!"

"and the problem with that...?" his smirk widened, making you a little angrier. if he could've just apologised for flirting with the waitress, you two would be in a so so much better situation, but no that's where he draws the line!

you just leave him there before he could say anything, you get back into the car on the backseat, shivering as you already feel the temperature of the car lower drastically, windows becoming somewhat icy, the seats feeling hard and cold too.

you look around for any blankets but get interrupted by the white haired annoyance, dropping himself on the seat next to you.

a sigh of frustration leaves your lips, crossing your arms as an attempt to warm yourself up while staring outside through the window once again.

the car was pulled over in a quite pretty area, a forest covered in soft snow, the lonely branches of the trees holding the weight quietly, a few crows sitting on them before all of them opens their wings, flying away and only leaving two behind. the restaurant he brought you to was higher on the mountain, making the landscape from there even more beautiful.

of course he had to fuck it up.

the moments were slow, every second lasting decades as you two sat in silence, cold running on your body, the shivering was now undeniable.

you glanced at him, he didn't make any effort to warm himself up, he even took off his coat. suddenly unwanted thoughts started to invade your mind, talking about how warm his body must be.

"aren't you cold?" you ask after a few minutes.

gojo's blue eyes meet yours, at first, for a teeny tiny second he seems like he'll smile but then just pouted instead, his hands fiddling with his clothes. if he just held your hand in his, that would probably make the cold more bearable.

"why? you worried?"

you huff, turning your head away again. you knew that your worry was exactly what he wanted at that moment.

"you're just crazy" you answer, expecting the conversation to continue but he doesn't say another thing.

you look at him again, but as soon as you do, he wraps his black coat around you, trapping you with it and pulling you into his arms, your head against his chest, a small yelp leaving your lips.

his body felt warm, but yours started to feel a little bit warmer somehow. the stiffness leaves you seconds later, even though you try not to melt into the hug too much.

his arms were holding you close, his head rested on top of yours, his heartbeats seemed to speed up even if just a little bit.

"gojo-"

"don't even start a sentence like that" he interrupts you with an almost childish frown on his face.

"you have three seconds to say that before i push you away and drag you into that forest." your voice is threatening but somehow he still managed to hear the smile in your tone that you tried to hide with every fiber of your body.

"c'mon, don't be cruel!" gojo whined, glancing down at you.

"two..."

his grip around you slightly tightened as if he was afraid that you'd really pull away.

"one-"

"fine, i love you!!" he said as fast as he could, his gaze turned away.

your breath hitches, eyes widen at the sudden confession, you feel like you've been slapped in the face, in the best way possible.

"you what?" you ask, trying to steady your voice.

at least being cold definetly wasn't your number one problem anymore.

"isn't that what you wanted to hear??" he questions dramatically, raising his voice a little.

"i wanted a fucking apology!" disbelief in your voice as you match his tone.

a few moments of silence comes as he is just staring at you, blinking slowly. you had to admit he looked quite adorable like this, big blue eyes looking at you, a small blush creeping on his cheeks.

"oh!"

you can't help but chuckle at his reaction, a grin appearing on your face.

"so you love me?"

"and if i do?" he huffs.

"then, satoru" you start out, already seeing his expression light up when you finally say his first name. he just loved how it left your lips so effortlessly yet with so much kindness. "you're extremely lucky because i may be feeling the same way."

"i knew it!" he says smugly, trying to forget that he ever questioned it. of course you love him. "from day one."

you raise one eyebrow, glancing up at him once again.

"day one i wanted to strangle you."

he pouts again.

"and now?"

"i still want to strangle you" you say. "but now with a little affection."

he chuckles, pulling you so close that you're basically sitting on his lap at this point. he hides his face in the crook of your neck, his hair in his face, arms around your body as he is still trying to warm you up.

big snowflakes started to fall from the sky, the storm quieting down. all you could feel was his body hugging yours warmly, his scent filling your mind, fogging your rational thoughts as you melt into his embrace.

time slowed down but you couldn't been happier.

"say it" he mumbled eventually.

you sigh, eyes closing while a smile is spreading on your lips.

"i love you too."

after those words, you slowly start to feel like your eyelids are becoming heavier, all the adrenaline from the frustration leaving your body. your breathing becomes relaxed and before you drift into sleep, you have to admit, maybe shoko was right about this whole thing after all. maybe it could work out.

haii!! i hope you had a good time reading this, it's the first fanfic i've ever written so sorry if it's not that good! also, english is not my first language so if i made a mistake feel free to correct me (^-^)

[itsjunear]

Comfort

Note: Hello, loves! I guess I disappeared again 😭 I'm sorry, there's been a lot going on these past few weeks, and I wasn’t feeling very well. This is my way of making it up to you ❤❤ I'm still working on the second part of "Shadows and Whispers", but I got sidetracked, and something totally out of my element came out of it. I’m really sorry if this turns out to be a mess, I’ve never written anything obscene and explicit before, so feel free to tell me if it’s terrible! Remember, English isn’t my first language, so if there are any mistakes, don’t hesitate to let me know! Please take care of yourself! Love you all! 💙💙💙

P.S. I didn’t tag anyone because I wasn’t really sure if you’d want it, especially after disappearing for almost a month. Sorry 😭😭

Words: +1k

Warnings: Obscenity

Summary: Reader goes to comfort Azriel after he's returned from a mission. However, things take a turn, and somehow she finds herself in a sinful situation with the shadowsinger.

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I still didn't understand how the hell I had ended up in this situation.

Or rather, how I had ended up in this position.

My intentions in arriving at Az were completely genuine and innocent. I knew him well enough to know that he was absolutely frustrated with how the mission had ended, just as I also knew that he would try to hide his feelings because that was his way of dealing with everything.

When I arrived at the River House, I found him sitting at the foot of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands tangled in his dark hair. He was so out of it that he didn't even lift his head when he heard me enter and he didn't bother to pick up his wings either, a strong indicator of his mood.

Seeing him like this made my heart ache, and the urge to comfort him took hold of me, so I didn't even think when my feet carried me directly in front of him. Somehow, I sneaked my hand in and gently placed it on his cheek, forcing him to look up. His shadows were scattered and restless.

I wasn't ready for what I found in his hazel eyes: loneliness and resignation. He didn't even try to hide it from me, and that was what scared me the most. I was prepared to face the big wall he put up when something emotional was involved, but I wasn't ready for the honest vulnerability that hit me like a blow to the cheek.

"Aziel..." I let out with a shaky sigh.

He shook his head and for a second my body went rigid as I felt his arms wrap tightly around my waist and rest his head on my stomach. I reacted and instinctively placed one hand on his back, in the middle of his wings, and the other in his hair, scraping gently with my nails. In response, a shiver ran through him, and I stopped my movements abruptly.

"No" It was the first thing I heard him say since I had entered "Please... Just... continue."

I nodded even though I knew he wasn't looking at me and resumed my movements. He relaxed against me and settled his head higher, right between my breasts. HIS shadows calmed down then, and limited themselves to passing through us occasionally.

"Az..." I tried again.

“Y/n…” he interrupted me, pressing himself tighter against my body. "I need this right now. Just... tell me to stop if you don't want it."

I didn't stop him, and he decided to explore a little more, brushing his nose against the edge of my breasts, making me shiver. One of his hands that was on my waist went down to my ass and squeezed hard, but at the same time slowly, as if he wanted to melt into my skin.

A gasp of surprise escaped my lips when I felt him place soft kisses on my breasts, near the nipples, covered only by an old shirt that was too big for me. He put it in his mouth, wetting the shirt, making my hands fly straight to his hair, tangling and pulling gently. A grunt of approval came from Azriel, and all logical thought vanished from my mind, leaving me completely blank and a prisoner of sensations.

His hands became bolder reaching for one of my perfectly fitting breasts and he squeezed, making me gasp.

"You're so beautiful" he said breathily and pulled my shirt up over my head.

My breasts were exposed, and directly at the height of his lips, so he did not hesitate to put them in his mouth. I just arched my back, delighted in the way he made me feel even though I knew this was wrong. Az was very vulnerable right now and it was a miracle that he was showing me this side of him.

That thought hit me like a bucket of cold water and brought my feet back to earth.

"Az," I called after a moment. "We can't..." I gasped as I felt him pull my nipple between his lips. "Listen, I don't think this is a good idea..."

"I need to feel you close. I need to know that you are here with me," he pleaded in a tone of voice I had never heard before, "Making you feel good will make me feel good."

"But I don't want you to think that I'm taking advantage..."

"I need this. I need you" he interrupted me.

That took my breath away and the way he looked like I was his only lifeline made me give in, so I finally nodded.

The shadowsinger rewarded me by leaving a wet kiss on my neck before separating for a moment to unbutton his leathers and reveal all his glory. I didn't hold back and gently touched his skin, trying to convey everything I felt through those caresses, trying to tell him that I was there for him and from the way he tensed where my fingers passed, I assumed he could understand it. I even brushed the edge of one of his wings and he shivered violently, not hiding the low moan that escaped.

His hands moved down to unbutton my shorts without leaving soft kisses combined with licks on my neck. I dug my nails carefully into his back, avoiding the membranes, and he let out a hoarse moan that went deep into my bones. He slowly slid my pants down caressing my legs in the process and then helped me out of them once they hit the carpet beneath my feet.

That's how I was left in nothing but panties in front of Azriel, who was looking at me like I was the only damn person in his life that he had ever wanted. I didn't feel self-conscious under his scrutiny, on the contrary, I had the feeling that he was memorizing me.

“Y/n” he ​​called with rapid breathing “You are beautiful, fucking beautiful.”

His words also had more meaning, I realized. It was the second time he had told me this tonight and somehow, he managed to warm my heart.

The shadowsinger manipulated my body to his liking, so he gave me one last open-mouthed kiss right over my heart before turning me over, leaving me on my back now. I felt him fill my spine with kisses and hook his fingers on my panties, slowly lowering them until he left a kiss on my lower back that made me shudder.

Completely naked, she took me by the waist to place me on his lap. I could feel his hardness beneath me, and he hissed when I ground my hips together.

I was sitting in the middle of his legs, until he hooked one of his hands and put one of my legs over his, so that I was wedged over it, although I still rested my back on his chest.

Then he hugged me, imprisoning me in his arms and hiding his face in my neck. His hands then went down, directly to my center, and he began to touch me with gentle movements, slow caresses on the clitoris that made me gasp. A moan escaped from the back of my throat as I felt his fingers slide into my folds and curve them deliciously.

"That's it honey, let me hear you" he whispered in my ear.

He repeated the movement, and my body went crazy when he added another finger. Everything was slow and felt completely different, it felt more intimate, fuller of feeling. His fingers worked magic inside me while he caressed my clit with his thumb. It was too much, and I figured Az could sense it because he sped up his movements.

Another moan escaped my lips as one movement pushed me over the edge and the orgasm rippled through me making me tremble, sweeping through everything. Azriel did not stop his hands, prolonging the sensation and supporting all my weight, since I had practically collapsed on top of him.

After a few seconds, he did something that left me gasping, partly from the orgasm he just gave me, and partly from the sensual sight. He took his fingers out of me, not caring in the least about the mess, and sucked on them, looking into my eyes before resting his forehead against mine.

"Az" I whispered in between a gasp.

He lunged at my lips and there are no words to describe the way he kissed me. It was messy, a combination of tongue and teeth, but it felt perfect, like once in a lifetime, everything fit together.

I walked away after a moment, to catch my breath, and he grimaced as if it physically hurt him not to be around, to which I responded by standing up and climbing up behind him, only this time who hid his face in his neck. It was me, absolutely enjoying the skin-to-skin contact and the way he held me close to his bare chest and mine.

Az didn't care about the mess I was probably making on his leathers still wearing my fluids. He didn't seem interested in any of that.

"Thank you for staying," he said after a moment, wrapping his wings around us.

"You have nothing to thank me for," I responded, taking his face in my hands. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, now that you're here." He responded and for emphasis, one of his shadows caressed my arm with a cold touch, making me smile.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked as I ran a finger over the membrane of his wing again.

A shudder consumed him along with a gasp and he rested his head on my shoulder.

"Not yet"

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck. Trying to give him comfort beyond words and show him that she was here with him. Not anywhere else.

[spaceorphan18]

The other thing I've seen going around today (not here... on other sites) is discussion on when did Colin fall in love and...

Hmmm....

There are a couple of issues I have on this subject.

The first being, why is loving someone as a friend valued less than loving someone in a romantic capacity? It's just a different type of love. And, maybe this is a me thing, but sometimes I get frustrated that friendship is deemed less than romantic love.

(I mean, I could go on a full tangent about Penelope and Eloise, and how their friendship, and their love for each other, was another love story during Season 3 -- and that relationship to Penelope is just as important to her as the one with Colin. As is, Eloise and Colin's familial relationship - which is, again, another form of love.)

anyway, Penelope, we know, had romantic feelings right from the start. but they were childlike, in a way. Colin was a boy (and a person in general) who didn't laugh at her for being awkward. This meant the world to her. It was a childhood crush, that developed and matured into an actual friendship, and developed and matured into romantic love. These are two separate things that happen but are very intertwined for Penelope.

As for Colin - he says to his brothers that his feelings aren't some thunderbolt from the sky, and that they had developed over time. There isn't one point where he was bam! in love. It was always something simmering and taking shape.

And I mean - in Season 1, there was friendly affection there -- they grew up as literal children together. She was always around. They were fixtures in each other's lives, and it probably was a familial caring for her - in the way he cares for Eloise. There there are points in which he shows that she is special to him. He recognizes that she helps him understand himself. And that there's a unique dynamic there - beyond, hey, this girl is my sister's bff.

And then comes Season 2 - and the letters are incredibly important to their development. It starts an intimacy between them that they don't have with other people. It also lets them be open and vulnerable in a way that they aren't able to in person. There's a connection there. And a valuable one at that. And Colin sees her as a friend, and someone important and special in his life. The friendship is very real, and his love for her is there. Even if it is friendship that doesn't mean it's something less than how Penelope feels for him - it's just different.

And then the thing that does separate romantic love from friendship love is sexual desire -- and Colin doesn't really recognize this until they kiss, that he is attracted to her, as well as everything else. It compounds. So, by the time they finish up that carriage ride, there are three types of love going on -- familial, friendship, and romantic love, and Colin understands this enough to be sure in knowing that she's the one for him. (He also knows he has to lock her in, because she could develop all of that with someone else - she almost did - so that's also apart of the proposal, but i digress.)

I guess my long winded point is that it's odd to talk about Colin's love for Penelope in distinct moments, when it's all a spectrum, and overlapping kinds of love. And I mean - I think there's a better conversation to be had about what love is to Colin, how does he define it?

Because I think how we love is different person to person. And letting fictional characters be complex like that is really kind of fascinating (to me).

And I guess - what draws me to Polin (over Saphne and Kanthany) is that it's a love story where the foundation is friendship, and the specialness in that, is absolutely valued first, and romantic love stems from that, instead of vice versa.

But that's just me.

[maul-of-shame]

Underrated moment in 2x01, but look at that part when Galadriel asks Elrond, "Where are the rings?" She totally invades his space, and he allows it, staring at her, and then when she turns, her hair slaps his shoulder, and he blinks because she was that close to him.

Even when mad at each other, they're so intimate? Ughhhh, and Elrond's collarbone was all exposed too, he was so vulnerable-looking with Galadriel THAT close to him! I love it. 😭

This scene is soooooooooooooo underrated for REAL!!!

That scene is just chef’s kiss for all the subtle, electric tension it brings. When she asks about Cirdan, comes up to him furious, he just doesn’t move—like, no flinch, no blink, nothing.

It’s like he’s daring her to come closer, and she absolutely does.

They’re both heated, frustrated, and yet he keeps his eyes fixed on hers, completely unfazed by how close she is. And that eye contact? It’s like they’re both caught in this charged bubble, completely in sync but on opposite sides of this huge issue. He isn't the one who takes his hand away as well, she is the one who does it when he says she chose the path for him.

She was the first to grab his hand and he was holding onto it. Even when he's shown he's angry at her, because of her choices. Because of her trust in the rings and yet, he wasn't letting go of her hand, because, as we saw in many scenes: physical touch is their love language.

Sure there are words but these two always use their hands, holding each other, and so effing tender.

And then the hair moment—Galadriel spins, and her hair just whips his shoulder, and he blinks like he's trying to ground himself after feeling her that close. Even when they’re mad at each other, it’s this magnetic, silent communication that neither of them is breaking.

Plus, Elrond with his collarbone out, looking all vulnerable while she’s that close? The man doesn’t even try to defend his personal space; he’s just standing there, fully taking her in. He's so vulnerable, he could have pushed her away so many times in this scene, shushed her or anything but DIDN'T.

He even held her hand, stayed there and let her invade his personal space.

The fact that even when they’re on opposite ends of an argument, they’re so comfortable invading each other’s personal space—ugh, it’s like they’re saying, “Yes, we disagree, but we’re still right here with each other.”

They have this bond, this chemistry, this understanding they just don't have with other people and it's just so beautiful.

Like some sort of "I know you messed up, that I probably will mess up too, but I am here for you."

They're here for each other, in anger, in joy, in sorrow, in sadness,... For and through everything.

ALSO, side note probs but our girl looked at him when he was back o her to check if he was wounded. Her eyes take him in and even if she was upset/angry, her first instinct (after telling Gil to let her convince Elrond) was to check if Elrond had been wounded.

She didn't storm in right here in there to yell at him, she didn't grab him and smacked him into a wall, she checked if he had been wounded, rings aside and forgotten.

[renhanaschewtoy]

Coworkers

FINALLY. I'm so sorry it took so long. All the chaos and junk really got the better of me. I hope y'all like this, I really tried. I can't wait to write more. Strade's Favorite Bartender will be next! 💚 NSFW MDNI

You’d always had a certain fondness for Lawrence you supposed. He was always the quiet guy at work, hesitant to ever really speak or have attention be directed his way. 

And it wasn’t like you’d bulldozed into his life either. 

It had started small, really. He was stronger than he looked and often you both shared shifts. You’d asked him a few times if he could help you move some things, speed up the task and he’d always given a little nod and followed you to do so. 

You wanted to bridge that gap, you bought some tea you kept in your locker, offering it to Lawrence on breaks. At first he just stared at you for a long moment before slowly giving a nod of his head, crystalline eyes directed anywhere but you. And then grabbing the sandwiches or other items from the corner Mart you saw him buy from time to time. You simply wanted Lawrence to feel appreciated in the warehouse. That you were grateful he helped you.

And it turned into routine after a little while.

Sharing breaks, eating together in the silence that was the wee hours of morning before the sun broke. Settled in the stale smelling break room or outside on the bench in the parking lot, side by side. You usually did most of the talking but from time to time, it was exciting to hear Lawrence talk. When he'd mention his plants, the most recent time he went on a trek through the park or on a hike, better was when he’d actually give you his opinion. Even if it was differing. If it weren’t for the occasional stutter or stammer, you’d reckon to say he’d have a rich voice. Dulcet to you, if you dare say so.

You gave him your number, just in case you switched shifts at work or something came up of course! Though that didn’t stop you from sending the occasional message asking how he was doing, or if you shared a shift a “have a good night! Oops, I mean morning!” sort of text. You wanted to endear yourself to Lawrence.

And you had.

You wormed your way under his skin and into his heart like vines of twisting ivy, you made it hard for Lawrence to breathe around you sometimes. The saccharine scent about you that was so alien, so absolutely opposite of damp rot and soil he’d become accustomed to. You were the fragrant bulbs of flowers he tried to nurture and fight the impulse to cut. You were soft, you were succulent in a way Lawrence didn’t understand like the occasional ones he had spotted around his apartment. Visions of you swam in his head at night in his bed, in the fog of his shower. Emboldened by the haze of burnt hash of a blunt that was discarded on the ashtray nearby. Lawrence wondered how you would feel…from the inside. How different you would feel from his hand. Water or lotion made do in a pinch when he’d fist himself to completion, more often than not he would grow frustrated after the clarity hit him.

“huff…huff…nngh…f-fuck…(Name)...” Water cascades down Lawrence’s pale body, head bowed with one hand braced against the cool tile wile the other hand stroked his weeping cock. You brushed up against him on more than one occasion today, he felt the soft warmth of your skin through your clothes, caught a peek of skin when you’d reach up high, Lawrence swore…goddamn it, he could hear the blood in your veins. Your hand brushed against his when you handed him a paper cup of some herbal tea you’d been so proud to prattle about hoping he’d like it. And he’d die before telling you that it was actually too sweet for his taste. But maybe that was you and your influence on the moment. Too sweet. His breathing grew ragged as his glacier eyes screwed shut, trying a slight twist of his wrist as Lawrence fisted his cock; reliving the encounters behind his eyelids.

The warm flush of your cheeks, he wondered how much blood could reach the apples of them…the plush look of your lips that always curled into a little grin, what might they look like swollen from his own pressed to them or his teeth sinking into them? Would your heart hammer in your chest? Or would it be slow and calm? Would you let him touch you? Actually touch you? To crawl inside of you and feel your warmth from the inside, to break your ribs and truly be in your embrace until you were cold and still like he often felt. A grunt passed Lawrence’s lips as he grappled with the thoughts– did he want that? No…no, he didn’t think he did. Lawrence wanted to savor you if he was ever presented the opportunity. You’d feel different. You were different. His mind rewound and pulled forward like a video on a loop, searching for just the thing to focus on. That breathless face you made after exerting yourself, the way your breathing drew a little rough and you tried to chuckle through, the way your (color) eyes would look up at him so gratefully in a way only you ever looked at him.

“Hhngh…haah…(N-Name)...” Lawrence choked your name from his throat as a shudder ripped down his spine, hips jerking erratically in a rhythm that grew sloppy before pearly, viscous cum splurted forward, coating his hand and dropping into the water to disappear down the drain. The smell of stale, foggy air and eucalyptus as the evidence of his mild perversion disappeared from sight. Maybe that’s why it was always easier in the shower. His panting eventually subsided into just one heavy sigh, the heaviness left him and again the frustration followed.

It wasn’t the same.

It wasn’t you.

Maybe Lawrence was getting greedy. Not that he could ever act on it. It always made him seize up worse when you were just looking at him with those eyes of yours. So patient for whatever he may say or do. It was maddening that he let it get this far. That you somehow had sunk so deeply into him instead that keeping you was now a regular rotation in his fantasy. That fire fed and fanned by content he consumed on the internet. But there was always just a slight pause on maybe trying such on you. Maybe. Exhaling through his nose, Lawrence turns off the water and steps out of the shower. His brow is deep set in thought as he lazily towels off his pallid skin and blonde hair that falls over his shoulders limply still damp.

Dressing for bed, Lawrence dares to glance at his phone- he never gets notifications. Not really. Just from you. And today must be one of those nights that the stars just align, one message from you.

(Name): “Hey!! I have some news tomorrow!”

Lawrence’s brows furrow and lips press in a thin line, he’s not sure how to reply. If he should. But he wants to.

Lawrence: Okay.

Like most or any social interaction- not his best work. Not that you cared. It never stopped you at all or caught you off. Most might find him brusque and socially awkward, which wasn’t untrue. Lawrence doesn’t linger on the thoughts of what it could possibly be, it could be anything with you; infinitely more optimistic than himself. You found the silver linings in most things, took joy in the small victories or whathaveyou. Something he would possibly find overwhelming or even annoying but you seemed to broach him a way just so that it never…felt that way. Lawrence didn’t want to keep you at an arms length like he had the first handful of shifts where he’d nearly tried to avoid you. And now he craved you. You were sunlight, warm and necessary. You were nourishment Lawrence didn’t believe he needed. He was starved in ways that didn’t make sense.

Tugging on old, worn sweatpants, Lawrence crawls into his bed and tries to settle in and stares at the ceiling for a while before his breathing lulls into sleep. 

The next day, the next shift. Stars litter the sky and the moon hangs along them. The streets are mostly dead, the silent stillness of the parking lot of the warehouse is usually comforting but there’s an odd looming sense regarding your news and Lawrence doesn’t know why. Why his stomach turns and twists so strangely when he sees you eagerly wave him over as he pushes the heavy door open after a swipe from his employee badge.

“Hey, Law!” you greet, warmly as ever- you were probably the only one who forced themself to adapt to the lifestyle of working this shift and still function. Or function better than most of the other workers here. Granted it made sense to Lawrence, it was what he preferred though it never showed.

Lawrence gives a low hum of acknowledgement you had grown accustomed to as you met him halfway to walk to the lockers together. “You…mentioned you had news…?” After spinning the dial on his lock, those piercing baby blues turned to you, seeming to perk up at his voice addressing you.

You bite your lip in that way that makes him wish he could be one of your teeth. To feel the plush skin under pressure. Lawrence blinks before turning his focus back to your eyes. “Yeah! Yeah, I finally got a grown up job, heh…” You run a hand through your (length) (color) (type) hair, your grin faltering to something almost akin to nervousness or anxiety. Because all Lawrence can do is stare at you with a blank, unreadable expression. The silence hangs over heavy as you scuff your shoe on the floor.

“... you're quitting…?” It feels like he's choking it out but if he did, you didn't seem to notice. And he's grateful for it.

“Well, yeah, I mean…I gave my two weeks. It's just…I can't work here forever. It doesn't pay enough and I'm not exactly cut out for it long term.” You admit with a little bob of your head, glancing around the warehouse stacked with pallets and equipment. And it was true if Lawrence was being honest, you weren't as strong to continue this sort of labor for long without it doing something to your musculature or God forbid your beautiful bones. It was bad enough when you bruised.

“...oh.” There's an odd sort of thrum in his chest he can't discern, a tension that settles tight in too many places for his liking. Your sharp eyes seem to snap to him at the monosyllabic reply and soften. That look. Not of pity, just soft.

“But we can still text! Or meet up on off days! I'd like to check out that trail sometime, if you'd be down?” You're quick, so quick, to offer him the modicum of comfort. That you somehow, some way, want to be around him even when no longer coworkers. You were so odd. But it wasn't unwelcome. “But uh…I was gonna throw a little party. At my place with people from our shift. If you wanted to come.”

Lawrence raises a brow at that, it isn't a “no” (it would be for anyone else)but it's more of that confusion. He didn't do parties. He didn't do other people. Crowded spaces. Not without some sort of necessity or incentive tied to it. His pause seems to make you fidget. “I know it's not your thing, so don't feel you have to or anything. But it would really nice to have you there.” You uplilt your word with that hopeful tone.

He shifts on his feet, his eyes unable to hold your gaze. Honestly? He doesn't want to. He really doesn't want to. Lawrence shifts on his feet a little as if still chewing all of the information over. He didn't like any of it. Most of all your leaving. Your absence would be felt so deeply. Lawrence felt like had something, had someone, even on the humdrum shifts you shared. Be it normalcy, warmth, Lawrence didn't know. But he wasn't about to let it go. Let you go. He couldnt. You might be vines constricting around him, but Lawrence could be all the thistles, barbs, and thorns in the world of it kept you ensnared to him.

Sometimes the stars just aligned like that.

“But, like I said- I know it's not…”

“I'll come.”

You blink up at Lawrence, surprise stark on your face for just a moment at his definitive tone. It lingers before your lips curl into a toothy grin making his heart thud against his ribs. “Yeah? That's great. Really great.” You pull out your phone and tap on it few times before a buzzing comes from his pocket. “That's my address, it starts at seven but y'know…it's a party so show up whenever.” You shrug casually.

Lawrence glances to the side, racking his brain for a moment, thinking of what next, of what to do when he gets there- nevermind that it's days away. “Alright! Well, let's go kick this shift in the teeth!” You chime, clapping your hands together and wandering off to whatever task you were assigned and Lawrence slowly trailing after you.

×××

Relationships were complicated. People were complicated. Well…living people were complicated anyway. For the briefest moment Lawrence thinks back to his family, people that meant little to him in the grand scheme of things but whether he liked it or not was part of his building blocks. At least a little.Which brought a vague memory of a muffled voice from childhood, “We can’t go to a dinner party empty handed.” A few hours before Lawrence decided he would make his appearance, he stopped at the liquor store on the corner to bring a bottle of…fuck. What did you even like?? All you drank when you were together was whatever was at the vending machines, the convenience store, or tea. Lawrence stood near the door of the shop- bottles lined all over the shelves and walls. Advertisements of several brand plastered all over in bright colors or neons.

Augh.

Eventually Lawrence meanders over to the wine section, staring at the bottles blankly, drifting from label to label. White wine? Red wine? If you would even drink it. Dry? Semi? Sweet? It was alcohol for fuck’s sake, why did it have to be so complicated. With a shake of his head, frustration beginning to simmer in the pit of his stomach, Lawrence swipes a bottle of sweet red with a delicate looking label adorned in little gilded flowers. Maybe even if you didn’t like it, you would think it’s pretty. Or maybe you’d think he was weird, like most other people– no…no, that wasn’t true. It was you. None of his antisocial tendencies seemed to deter you or bother you, opposite; you’d been nothing but accommodating and patient with Lawrence.

Keeping his head down, Lawrence shoves a few bills at the unbothered clerk who bothers to spare him a second glance before he begins the trek to where your apartment is supposed to be. Gingerly stepping through the building, Lawrence lingers in the hallway probably a beat longer than necessary before rapping his knuckles against the door. His palms are sweaty as he cradles the bottle of wine and waits…and waits…he can hear the thrum of bass through the door, music playing paired with a few voices…by the sound of it, not to many people (thankfully) or so he hoped. Just as he debated leaving and tossing away any hopeful ideations, the door is abruptly pulled open to reveal you. In more casual clothes. A warm flush blooms beautifully over your cheeks that has his breath hitch ever so slightly.

“Law! Oh man, I was beginning to worry you weren’t gonna show up!” You lilt, posture so much more relaxed and…oh. Lawrence spies the red plastic cup in your hand, of course. It was a party. People drank. He brought a bottle that he’d almost forgotten about seeing you the way you were. The drunk blush on your cheeks looked ever so enticing. “C’mon, c’mon in!” You usher him in warmly and he can take in your apartment. Posters decorate the walls, well loved furniture, a small cozy kitchen…that same sweetened perfume that was so uniquely you seemed to seep into the very walls. Lawrence shuffles inside, keeping his eyes down, only sparing glances to the other coworkers mingling around your place. Some chatting, some playing video games you had set up on your television, others bobbing a little to the music.

Lawrence’s hands tighten around the bottle before looking up to you and awkwardly thrusting it towards you. “I…I didn’t know what to bring…If I should bring anything.” He admits, biting the inside of his cheek as you blink and accept it, looking it over.

“Huh? That’s real sweet of you, thanks Law! Wine, huh? Fancy. I’ve never really tried it.” You inspect it, but keep it carefully tucked in the crook of your arm, though before Lawrence can feel embarrassed about his actions you give a mischievous grin. “You’ll have to come over again and maybe try it with me, huh? Can’t drink alone.” You chime warmly before disappearing only briefly to tuck it safely in the kitchen so nobody thinks to open it. Something for just the two of you…it ignites a spark of hope that he allows himself to buoy on for comfort now that he’s vastly out of his element. You poke your head out of the kitchen, “You want something to drink? I can mix you something or uh…I’ve got water, soda, juice…” Lawrence takes the opportunity to follow you and the variety of beverages and snacks. 

Opting for water, Lawrence takes up post along one of your walls, simply watching you and everyone else. Time ticks on as his hands worry the label of the water bottle to shreds. The music feels too loud, he can feel the bass in his bones. Nobody but you really wants to talk to him, he’s spared a nod of acknowledgement or a brief greeting but nothing more- if anything people seem surprised to see him here at all. Lawrence swallows thickly and glances to the clock and moves to stand up and you seemingly appear out of nowhere. Your eyes seem to trace over his features, lingering on his face for a beat before you do that wonderful thing you do. Soften up. Relax. “Hey...I know this isn’t really your scene. It can probably be a lot huh? Here…my room is quieter, you can chill there for a bit maybe? Kinda decompress? I really…hah…I really don’t want you to go yet…if that’s okay?” The alcohol has you emboldened, your lips a little looser, your thoughts more apt to slip between them.

And a strange warmth is surging through his veins, he feels it in his own cheeks, feels his fingers twitch slightly before Lawrence finds himself nodding. Your hand slips in his smoothly, gently- and he’s tempted to flinch but instead he squeezes, carefully. True to your words, your room is notably quieter than the living room, the length of hallway giving a decent berth. You settle on your bed with a dramatic sigh and Lawrence almost shyly sits beside you, hands in his lap. “...I’m glad you came.” You admit as you fall onto your back on your duvet and tilt your head to look up at him. “Is it greedy I wanted to keep you a little longer? Just to myself?”

It’s not greedy.

You’re not greedy.

You’re perfect.

Lawrence swallows thickly, your words reverberating in his skull, echoing his same thoughts. You wanted what he wanted. He could only hope anyway but you said what he was thinking aloud. You made it real. You were real. “N-No..No I don’t think that about you.” Lawrence manages to mutter out and it makes that smile grow wider on your lips. Your hand reaches for his again, delicately, as your fingers trace his knuckles. 

“We could hangout more often, y’know. I meant it when I said I still wanted to see you even after I’m outta there.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Nobody’s ever wanted to hang out around him, much less. Well beside that one friend he made online who seemed down to maybe talk in person. But they weren’t you. Nobody compared to you. The silence hangs for a moment but in the soft lighting of your room, your eyes roam over his face again before you push yourself to sit up again, shuffling a little closer to him that Lawrence can feel the warmth of your body next to his. “...is it okay if I…” You dip your head slightly, lashes fluttering to make a point of looking down at his lips before meeting his gaze again. Just barely, Lawrence shakes his head before you give a breathy little chuckle and press your lips to his, a hand raising to cradle his jawline. The light stubble there is felt against the soft, smooth skin of your palm. Your lips are plush and sweetened by whatever alcohol you’d been drinking before, slightly sticky and sweet that Lawrence savors before clumsily kissing you back. Pushing back against you perhaps with an eagerness you hadn’t anticipated that draws a soft sound from your throat. Lawrence swallows down your groan, wanting more, feel you more, taste you more, feel all that livelihood that seems to emanate from you.

The kiss grows, heat building as your arms string around his neck and hands tangle in his blonde hair as it falls messily from its elastic. Lawrence leans, arms circling around your waist, a soft grunt muffled against your lips as he dares to deepen the kiss, tongue tracing your lower lip before being granted. Being able to explore inside of your mouth before pressing you down into the mattress. He can feel every breath you take, the expanding and compression of your chest, the way your heart thrums against your chest- Lawrence swears he can hear your heartbeat. Or maybe it’s his own pounding in his hears. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is more. More. 

And you seem of the same mind. Your hands drift down to his hoodie, moving to push it off his shoulders and Lawrence awkwardly shrugs out of it, loathe to part from your lips even to breathe. With you on your back, his hands take the opportunity to roam, albeit shakily. Taking in every curve, noting the muscle and fat on your body- soft under his larger hands and so very warm. Lawrence could get lost in you endlessly. He wanted to. Parting only for a moment, his breathing ragged, you seem to waste no time as you greedily take in air while yanking your shirt up and over your head and reaching for the buttons of his plaid shirt. It isn’t long between the two of you, clumsy hands- some from alcohol and others from lack of real heated experience, before clothes are strewn over your floor and you and Lawrence are a tangle of limbs on your bed. His body cages you in, body anchored to you as he savors each sensation, each beautiful sound he’s able to pull from your lips, feeling the way your body moves and the way it works against his own. Lawrence reminds himself to be affectionate, what he was taught affection is supposed to look like through media consumption anyway, though with you it’s easier. It’s so lovely to kiss along your neck, feel you gasp and shudder, to feel your pulse flutter under his lips. “...feels…fuck…so good…” he groans lowly against your skin.

Lawrence can almost picture the expression on your face as you give a chime of laughter and dare to roll your hips against his own, feeling his erection straining against the cotton of his boxers in a very obvious tent. “It can feel better…I can make you feel better…” You croon softly and that’s the snap that breaks him. Pulling away so abruptly you look up at him owlishly, he shoves his boxers down his pale thighs, impulse and need overriding most if not all thought in this moment. The desperation that burned through Lawrence to feel you from the inside.You lift your hips accordingly as he paws at your underwear before they slip down your legs and carelessly discarded with everything else. Bare before each other, there’s the briefest moment between the way the two of you have been interlocked, drinking the other one in. Before Lawrence’s hands grip the meat of your hips and tugs you closer with a strength you usually thought was reserved for the warehouse, not that you minded. The feeling of his fingers digging into your skin, you certainly wouldn’t mind a little bruising if not more come morning.

“Just…Just stay still…Just let me…” He pants, his eyes clouded and glazed over, transfixed as he mumbles almost to himself and you arch your back just so to give him a better angle as one hand releases you to line his aching cock up to your sweet entrance.First he notches the bulbous head in and groans, chest heaving with every breath as you bite your lip with a soft whine- spurning him on, urging him to just push. And so he does, inch by inch, Lawrence spears you on his length and his eyes threaten to roll back into his skull. You feel divine; tight, wet, impossibly warm around him as you clench like a vice that his his hips already stutter the first time within you. Sweat already begins to bead his forehead as Lawrence’s jaw clenches- as tempting as it is, he couldn’t bear the embarrassment if he came undone within you so quickly. 

You keen below him, hushed little murmur of, “Please…fuck, Law…need you, please.” While resting your hands on his shoulders with a little squeeze, you don’t mean to rush him, really you don’t- but you’d wanted this, thought about this, more times than you cared to count. And with a little liquid courage in your veins, you finally fucking had it. Had him.

And surely, he begins to rock his hips. The push and pull between you growing as Lawrence begins to rut within you, rhythm building and pressure mounting as you buck your hips in kind, pushing him deeper until his cockhead nudged against that delicious spot within you that made your lashes flutter and moans spill from your lips. Ordinarily, Lawrence wasn’t one for much noise- but the music muffled anything beyond your door and these sounds were for him and him alone. Shouldering your legs over his shoulders, Lawrence picks up his pace and his hips snap against you, heavy balls wetly slapping against your ass that has you squeak until you relax some in his grip. It leaves you helpless, putty as he fucks you into the mattress with reckless abandon now- your headboard knocking against the wall with each brutal thrust as he moans and grunts above you. While the sight of your is ever enticing, something Lawrence wants to burn into the folds of his brain, the need to feel close to you wins as he hunches over, nearly folding you in two. Hands bracing on the bed as he buries his face in the crux of your neck and shoulder as he kisses along the skin, breathing hotly into your ear as he continues to pump his cock into you. “...close…so…need to feel you…so warm…so fucking good…” Lawrence babbles to you, drunk on the euphoria as he feels pleasure coil hot in his stomach, on the brink.

So close.

So close.

So close.

“L-Law…’m not…a-ah, oh fuck…!” You gasp and choke on your words as you’re pinned below him, bliss drawn over your flushed features as your brain struggles to send words to your mouth, “...’m not gonna last...just like that, like that…!” You encourage as he surges with renewed vigor. Lawrence wants, no, needs to feel you come undone around. What you feel like when overcome with pleasure, what you look like, all of it. He grits his teeth before finding better use for his mouth, latching onto your throat to suckle a deep mottled mark into your skin that has you nearly scream into the room before he claps a hand over your lips to muffle it as he feels you contract around him. Convulsing, throbbing, spasming all around him in a way that Lawrence shuddering as his engorged cock finally empties itself within you, the excess forming a creamy ring around the base of his shaft and dripping down the plush swell of your ass onto the duvet. Ragged huffs fan over the hickey now left into your skin as Lawrence gives a few more languid, shallow strokes to enjoy the lingering feeling of you tightly wrapped around him as you try to catch your breath with a few low sounds of complacency. Sated, Lawrence almost begrudgingly lowers your legs carefully and his piercing eyes look up at you- trying to gage if you might be disappointed or upset, but instead is met with a bleary, satisfied smile and a breathy chuckle.

“...fuck, Law. I knew you had in you.” You mutter playfully before resting your arm over your sweaty forehead and Lawrence can feel his lips quirk ever so slightly. Something akin to pride settling in him slightly, but he remains knelt between your legs as a silence settles over the pair of you and you raise your arm to peek at him. Wordlessly, you pat shift and shuffle, peeling back the blankets and patting the spot next to you.

“But…your party…?”

“I’m pretty sure people heard and I’m pretty sure they didn’t. What’re they gonna do? Rob me? I don’t have shit.” You chuckle, though Lawrence seems to give pause and glance to the door. His reluctance seems to sober you some as you sit up slightly. “Uh…unless you wanted to go.” You try to keep your tone steady not to betray the tinge of hurt that creeps in all the same.

“No…! No, that’s not what I want…uhm…” Lawrence awkwardly scoots off your bed and grabs his boxers to tug on padding to your door and opening it a crack, peeking and listening for any other life in your apartment. The music had since stopped and it was still silence.With the knowledge your apartment is now empty, Lawrence locks your door for you before returning into bed and you just smile. The simplest thing, as if this was normal. Maybe it was, Lawrence sure as fuck didn’t know what that was, but this was nice. This was beautiful. You were beautiful.

Slowly, he moves to the other side of the bed and slides in beside you. Lawrence has not slept next to another person, honestly it was never something he thought he would like but it feels like it’s both what you want and what is expected. And frankly- it could be worse. “...Can I…?” He shuffles under the blankets, swathed in your detergent and perfume, his frame shifts over yours and his head presses to your chest where he can hear the steady beat of your heart. The intrusive thought rings in through his head that he could have it, have that piece of you forever. Sealing this moment forever between the two of you...but he pushes it to the back of his head. No, another part of him didn’t want that- as tempting as it may be. If he took that part of you, this wouldn’t be possible. And Lawrence wanted this, whatever this may be, and more of it. More of you. Sex. Intimacy. The touch and warmth of another living being. It was odd, it was still something Lawrence was trying to make sense of. A way that this could remain but you might still be wholly his. All his. Only his.

Lawrence’s reverie is broken only by your arms encircling him and hugging him close to you, one hand carding through his hair to keep his head pressed to your chest as you hum in contentment. “Night, Law.” You mutter with an affectionate kiss to his head as you reach an arm out to turn off your lamp and succumb to sleep. Lawrence lingered awake a while longer, his nocturnal nature something he was grateful for as he relished in the soft breaths while you slept, how your heart slows, the sweet silence as he curls around your body and eventually, an hour or so after observing you, Lawrence sleeps as well.

Eventually sunlight dapples through your blinds, making Lawrence crinkle his nose slightly- he wasn’t accustomed to this. Not that he slept poorly necessarily, but it would take a day or so to get his circadian rhythm back. But it hadn’t been a waste as you groggily rouse beside him with a sleepy smile. “...Hey.” You greet warmly, throat still raspy from sleep as you push some of his bangs from his face. “You sleep okay?” Lawrence nods slowly, drinking in this vulnerable vision of you as you yawn and roll to look at him on your pillow. “You want breakfast or something?” You offer up with that languid smile and something akin to adoration lingering in your eyes, the afterglow looked all the more prepossessing on you. “I have some of that tea still that I brought you a few days ago.”

He pushes up to sit and chews his lip for a moment. Maybe a part of Lawrence had hoped. Had known. “Uh…actually I, uh…I brought some tea for you. I can make us some.” He replies slowly, shifting his gaze to look at you, testing your reaction, if you would find it odd that he brought something besides the wine.

“Aw! Yeah, I’d love that.” You grin and sit up as well, moving to tug fresh underwear on and a large shirt, “You know where the kitchen is, the kettle is on the stove. I’m just gonna freshen up quick.” And with that you disappear into the bathroom while Lawrence prepares you his own specialty brew. 

[therealestsophia]

Jealousy Hidden Behind Masksִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

hiya🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ this is my first tumblr post— this is also posted on ao3. howeveerrr I am aware Ghost and König are not in the same team ive been playing this game since I was younger, so think of it as an au or something idrk

────────୨ৎ────────

Last week you and your team were sent on a mission in Mexico trying to find some cartel in Guadalajara. However one of the new sergeants put herself in mind boggling danger. She stood tall at an open fire, trying to take the bullets for everyone else so they could have a chance to

live.

Everyone was screaming at her to get down, to save herself. But she didn’t want to listen, if she was gonna go down…She would be remembered for how she did it

For the few right reasons,

and for all the wrong.

You not wanting this bright eyed sergeant to lose her life from one dumb heroic decision, you took it upon yourself to tackle her to the ground. However in the midst of tackling her you got shot in the abdomen an exceptional amount of times. Due to you and the sergeant being severely injured the team couldn't move forward without abandoning you both, and to Ghost, that wasn't an option.

❤️🔥

“Are you stupid [name]?” his fists landed on his desk, causing the glass of water atop it to shake slightly. His voice may have been calm with a sharp edge to it, but he couldn't stop his actions. You were trying your absolute hardest to choke down your tears, you couldn't cry in front of your Lieutenant like a scared little girl who just lost her parents in the store.

“Huh? Are you?” he quipped. His icy blue gaze narrows on your small frame sitting on the chair in front of his desk.

“Ghost-” my voice shook as I tried to keep myself together, slowly meeting his piercing gaze.

“Don’t ‘Ghost’ me.” he hissed, cutting your trembling voice off. But somehow, Ghost cutting you off only fueled the fire that was slowly building inside of you. You looked down at your balled hands sitting in your lap, slightly picking at your nails to try and calm yourself down.

Even if you could see his face, you already could imagine what it looked like. His blonde eyebrows furrowing in frustration, his lips pressed thin in a firm line of anger. You could understand his anger to a degree, but was this really necessary? You’re sitting here living after all, injured but alive.

He took in a heavy sigh of anger, “You deliberately went against orders, and almost got yourself killed.” he growled, there he was again. Referencing the stupid wounds that litter your abdomen due to your stupid, heroic decision. His lips drawn back in a snarl as he looked at your body, studying your body language to try and guess your next move.

“Ghost, why do you even care so much?!” you finally snapped at him, which in turn caught him by surprise with your sudden outburst. Your eyes burning with frustration that had finally boiled over. Slightly shifting in your seat while never breaking eye contact, wincing at shooting pain coming from your ribs, the pain you’ve been so desperately trying to ignore. The exact pain he was referencing throughout this entire argument.

He paused for a second, debating his words. “Because I care about you.” he said flatly, the anger in his voice was slightly gone but it was still there lingering. “Don’t you get it? Do you need me to spell it out for you to even reach your thick skull?” he sneered. There's the anger that was lingering in his tone. His eyes never left yours, it was becoming a battle to see who would break eye contact first, and it wasn't going to be you.

His hands were pressed firm on the desk, standing over you like some kind of hierarchy. You sat there, your eyes staring into his while you sat there like some child getting scolded by a teacher.

“I don’t need to get it.” you muttered under your breath, annoyance clear in your tone. “I never asked for you to care,” you paused, inhaling a sharp breath while standing up to push in your chair. “Nor anyone else, so don't make it my problem.” you hissed through your teeth as you reached his office door, whipping around to open it. Maybe you were the one to break eye contact, but at this point you couldn’t take it anymore.

God if you wanted a lecture you could have gone to Price.

Ghost just stood there, a blank expression on his face that was carefully covered by his balaclava, though his eyes read a thousand words. You opened the door and slammed it shut, walking away from his office briskly, you reflected on your choice of words. They were harsh, no sugar coating that, but they were true. Right?

But this time he didn't try to call you back, demanding you come back to speak to him. He just stood there in his office, contemplating everything.

You walked back to the barracks quietly, not bothering to say hello to anyone you passed. You walked for what felt like forever, being trapped in your own thoughts made it worse.

Once you finally reached your room you opened your door quickly and slammed it shut. All your prior frustrations came back as soon as you stepped in the room. Your eyes pricked with tears as you stood there silently, a lump in your throat formed and it was impossible to choke down. You kicked off your boots and made your way to your bed, as you flopped down on the soft mattress you couldn't hold back your tears.

The tears fell smoothly down your flushed cheeks, your body curling up in a ball as you drowned yourself in blankets. Your quiet sobs filled the room, and it didn't even matter that you still had your uniform on, you didn't care anymore. Your abdomen was throbbing, the pain making your tears fall harder than they were before. His words flooded your thoughts, ‘Because I care about you.’ kept replaying over and over again.

Why did he have to care? That made this so much more worse than it had to be.

The sobs eventually got quieter and quieter, god. Why did I have to be such a crybaby? So- sensitive. His words felt like thousands of sharp knives cutting through you. It was awful, it hurt so much.  Your eyes began to flutter slightly as you continued to cry, all you could do was cry and ponder on your decisions.

❤️🔥 pov change.

My eyes slowly blinked open as I woke up to a pounding headache. Damn it. I glanced at the clock as I sat up. It read 17:38, I sighed and closed my eyes leaning my back on my headboard. I rubbed my puffy eyes and crawled out of bed, throwing my blankets off of me. I stumbled to my feet, grabbing my night stand to balance myself.

Finally steadying myself I walked into my bathroom just to look at what I looked like. Oh my god…my tear streaked face was a sight to see you could say. I turned the light on before turning the sink to cold and started to splash my face with freezing water, hoping it would clear my post-cry face.

Turning off my sink and grabbing a towel I turned to pat my face dry, good enough.

I looked at my puffy eyes in the mirror with a huff before walking out of my bathroom and turning off the light. I walked slowly towards my door, slipping on my boots and walking out of my room.

Roaming the halls it was quiet, nothing was really happening. It wasn’t a busy day today, the halls holding an uncomfortable silence as I walked through them.

The sounds of my boots lightly treading across cold tile floor filled my ears.

Continuing to walk towards the mess hall I saw Ghosts office to my right, the office that hours earlier I stormed out of. I shook my head with a sigh and continued to walk towards the mess hall. Though the halls were oddly quiet, it was unsettling to say the least.

Reaching the mess hall I realized it wasn't as  crowded as it usually was. I didn’t have an appetite so I decided to just sit down at one of the empty tables and lay my head down, just listening to the talking and bickering of the place was comforting.

That's when I heard a familiar voice behind me, his presence was strong but his accent was even stronger.

“Schatz?” the man asked, his Austrian accent strong.

“König?” I asked and glanced up to see the tall Austrian man standing behind me, looming over me like a giant building.

He sat next to me, he clearly saw the somber expression written all over my face. He sat close, but not that close. The chatter in the mess hall was a comforting ambiance to this situation.

He gently lifted a finger to my trembling chin with his rough index finger, forcing me to stare into his pale blue eyes.

“Ist etwas passiert?” he asked softly, his tone quiet but still audible from the noise around us. (Did something happen?)

“No…” I whispered lower than he could hear, my voice slightly shaking as I tried to keep myself together.

I quickly hung my head low, breaking eye contact with him. My bottom lip was trembling as I tried to choke back my own tears, I didn't want to worry him, especially with all the stuff he's dealing with on his own.

“Oh, komm her.” he coaxed, pulling me into a bear hug. Trapping me in his warm embrace, playing with my hair in an attempt to calm me down. (Oh, come here.)

I lost it, I started bawling into his chest. Clinging onto his shirt in a desperate attempt to make sure he wouldn't leave me.

“Ghost and I had a fight-” I managed to choke out.

Ghost, the name alone made Konig tense up. I felt him squeeze me tighter in his arms when I said his name.

The name rang in his ears, his head racing with thoughts of him and you together as he gently stroked your hair.

Why can't you just realize that I can be so much better than him? Konig thought quietly.

Everytime Konig saw you with Ghost, it felt like you took his heart so gingerly, so sparingly…only to stomp on it afterwards. Or whispering sweet nothings into his ear but plunging the knife in his heart, over, and over again.

“He wont talk to me-” your trembling voice broke him free from the prison someone called thoughts. “and I'm worried I really messed up big time…” I sobbed even harder into his chest, it felt like I was dying.

Dramatic much. Though my chest heaving, I was hyperventilating.

“Shhh…” he soothed, rubbing my lower back gently. Konig gritted his teeth and bit his tongue, he didn't want to upset you more than you already were. He didn’t want to add his name to the list of reasons.

He just sat there rubbing your back, just being a shoulder to cry on. My fingers clung to his shirt, like he was a balloon and I was trying so hard to keep him on the ground with me.

“I know it hurts, but everything will be fine.” he reassured, his voice soft but still stern enough to make you listen to him. He spoke of things he knew nothing about, having no prior knowledge was hard but he was trying his best.

Him calming me down was oddly comforting, his warm embrace made my heart flutter slightly. “Just calm down, it’ll be fine, I promise.” he calmed me further, his accent coming back stronger.

He held me tight, holding me like I was the most precious gem in the world and he would do anything to keep it in his possession.

How could he promise something he knew nothing about?

How could someone make such an empty promise?

I finally pulled away from him, my tear streaked face and glassy eyes looking up at him with a pained expression.

My breath was still labored, my bottom lip wobbling as I tried to keep myself steady.

“I know it hurts, but give him time,” he paused to take a sharp inhale. “You guys always work it out.” Konig mumbled through gritted teeth, his personal vendetta with Ghost was getting the better of him.

He wanted to say so much more, how Ghost didn't deserve you, how you shouldn't cry over someone like him. But he didn't, he kept his mouth shut because your comfort was his top priority.

It hurt him so much to see you in pain, to see you cry over Ghost was, who quite frankly, could go jump out of a helicopter and he’d be fine with it.

I was pulled from my thoughts as I glanced around the room. Out of my periphery I saw Ghost, leaning on the mess hall door watching me. Wait no…

Watching Konig?

His eyes looked like they were burning with irritation, though they had a hint of…

Jealousy?

His gaze narrowed on Konig who was looking at me with pitiful eyes, who looked at me like he wanted to say something more but didn't.

My head slowly rose to look up at Konig. My eyes were glassy as I looked up at him slowly, my lashes fluttering. He kept his hands on my waist, just looking down at me. That's when I realized Konig wasn't looking at me anymore, his eyes were focused on Ghost.

“I’m sorry…” I whispered, though I wasn't sure if he could hear me over the chattering in the mess hall.

That's right, I forgot that's where we were. It felt like everyone else was invisible when I saw Ghost, like I could only catch his gaze and that was it.

“Warum guckt er sie so an?!” König muttered beneath his mask. I looked up at König again, my head slightly cocking to the side at his comment. (Why does he look at her like that?!)

“Huh?” I asked quietly, my hands balled in front of me.

“Nothing.” he mumbled, his eyes quickly going back to mine. I glanced slowly back at the door, trying to see Ghost once more.

But he was gone, the tall Brit that stood there, watching, was now gone.

All I could see was the people chattering, not even noticing me and König, thank god.

“Im so sor-“ I started quickly before König cut me off.

“Don’t be sorry, its not your fault hes-“ König stopped himself from saying anything more. I gave König a slightly puzzled look when he abruptly stopped talking.

“Just don’t be sorry.” he restated, not bothering to add the extra words he was about to say.

Oh.

I just sat there on the bench, pondering in my own thoughts, pondering on what he was going to say. However thats when König stood up from the bench, no longer feeling his large hands on my waist.

“I have to go, schatz. But please, please, don’t be sorry, everything will be okay.” he assured as he rubbed my shoulder slightly, his accent dripping off of his words.

His words were sweet, so sweet. Almost like poison, leaving me slowly wanting more of his comfort, more of his touch.

I gave him a curt nod as I looked up at him, wiping my face with my sleeve while I watched König walk away.

I felt so alone all over again, my red puffy eyes returning like a bad hangover.

Another cold water splash for me.

I pulled myself from my thoughts, I needed to leave, I just needed to get out.

I started to force myself up from the bench, lowering my head to not let anyone see my tear stained face, and red puffy eyes. I began to walk briskly out of the mess hall, not bothering to to looking behind me as I reached the door.

For some odd reason when I reached the door my eyes wandered. I looked left and right, high and low, just to see if he was there.

If Ghost was there.

I shook my head and started walking quickly, the chattering and bickering slowly fading as I quietly walked out of the the mess hall, returning back to the uncomfortably quiet halls.

Finally returning back to the empty barracks I grabbed the cold door handle and swung open the door. Only to have warm air hit me as soon as it opened.

Great.

I walked over to the bathroom, reaching my hand up to the light switch. The yellow toned flickering light flooding the bathroom.

I sighed when I saw my face. Looking up to see my eyes were bloodshot, my under eyes no longer purple, they were red and puffy.

Just what I need.

I scoffed at my own thoughts before turning the sink on, letting the water run to a freezing temperature before finally lowering my head to splash my face with the water.

It felt like a sense of relief as the first drop hit my face, almost feeling like someone was running an ice cube across my face.

I continued to let the water hit me. My face gradually becoming warm because of the cold.

Though it gave me time to think, should I apologize to him?

Him was Ghost, I just couldn’t get him out of my head. The way he stared at me and König in the mess hall lingered in my mind like König’s cologne hitting my nose.

Wait- why am I even thinking about both of them?

I turned off the water and groaned. Wiping the droplets away from my eyes as I looked in the mirror once again. This time there was no redness,

well maybe except my nose that was cold now.

I grabbed a towel and roughly dried my face, before tossing the towel on my sink as I flicked off the light.

Leaning down I unzipped my boots,slipping them off I stood on the hot hardwood floor before I slumped on my bed. Letting all my worries slip slightly as I hit the hard mattress, the springs beneath me rattling slightly.

Why do I feel like this?

What am I feeling towards both of them-

What is even happening?

I laid on my bed, my feet slightly above the ground as I contemplated everything. I wanted to work things out between me and Ghost, but the look in his eyes when he saw me with König.

Not to mention König gripping me tighter when he saw Ghost.

The AC turning on erased my thoughts,

Finally, it’s hotter than the pits of hell in here.

My own thoughts were driving me crazy, I couldn’t stand to be alone with them anymore.

I guess thats it? I apologize and all of this stops?

I groaned getting up off my bed, my feet hitting the cold ground. No thick pair of socks can save you once the AC turns on.

I hobbled over to my boots, zipping them up quickly trying to get my poor feet off the cold hardwood.

Stumbling over my own feet I finally reached my door, carefully opening it, unlike how I swung it open 10 minutes ago.

The warm air of the halls hit me as I walked into them, slowly closing my door behind me.

Creeeeeek.

Was all I heard as my door closed. Cringing at the noise I started my journey to Ghosts office.

Roaming the halls it still held the same uncomfortable silence, odd.

My boots clicked and clacked as I ventured closer and closer to his office, my veins starting to pump with adrenaline as I drew closer.

My stomach churned with unease,

what would I say?

I didn’t even rehearse this!

Though my body had a mind of its own. As I drowned in my thoughts I finally realized I was standing in front of Ghosts office.

Good lord help me.

I was knocking on his door before I could even second guess myself.

Knock,

Knock,

Kno-

My first was still in the air when Ghost cracked the door open slightly, peering out to see who was knocking.

His eyes held an irritated gaze when he opened the door after realizing it was me. When his door opened enough to where I could see him fully, the smell of cigarettes and cologne wafted in my nose.

“Do you need something?” he grumbled, his brown eyes piercing through me.

“I uhm-“ I stammered, forget what I said earlier, I should have never came here.

“Cat got your tongue?” his eyes narrowed while his brows furrowed in annoyance, he was obviously not happy.

I let out a quick sigh as I fidgeted with my nails behind my back, “M’sor-“ I started quietly as he cut me off.

What is with them and cutting people off?

“Why.” he stated, nothing more, nothing less. His eyes holding no emotion to go off of anymore.

“Why?” I questioned as I stood outside of his doorway, my facial expression painted with confusion.

“Why?” he scoffed a pause, “Why were his hands all over you?” his voice was gruff when he spoke to me, his bulky figure leaning on the door frame.

I stared back at Ghost who was staring at me dead in the face. My eyes widened with surprise at his words, even his tone.

“What, do I have to elaborate for you?” he growled, his voice becoming rougher as his eyes bored into my soul.

“I- What?” I stumbled over my words, desperately trying to find the ones that were stuck in my throat. I stared blankly at him, my nails stinging from my consistent picking. Unease coursing through my frozen body.

He let out an exaggerated sigh before grabbing my wrist and pulling me into his office, slamming the door on my way in.

I let out a quiet yelp as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me into his office, the slamming door making my body jolt.

He spun me around, my back facing his desk as be grabbed my hips roughly.

“Ghost-“ My face flushed a pretty shade of pink, an unwanted shade of pink, right?

“Ghost get off of me!” I demanded as I pushed his hands off of me, stumbling as I tripped backwards into his desk.

What was he doing?

He looked at me with hungry eyes, jealousy and hunger. Though his eyes flashed with a hint of surprise as I pushed him back.

He didn’t say anything, both of us just stood there in an uncomfortable silence. His muscles tensing slightly when I pulled away.

“What the hell- Why would you put your hands on me?” I broke the silence, my eyes flashing with confusion- irritation even. I was so lost and confused.

“And why would you let him touch you like that?!” he countered, his husky voice getting lower as he took small steps towards me.

My blood ran cold as he started to walk towards me, I felt helpless as his eyes flashed with an unsettling look.

“I-“ my voice was caught in my throat, a lump was there was was impossible to choke down.

“Why does it matter to you?” I finally choked out. But that was probably the worst choice of words I could have picked.

‘Because I care about you.’

His words rang in my head, practically running circles.

Though a shadowy figure broke me from my thoughts when I realized he was standing directly in front of me, his bulky figure looming over mine.

His palms rested on the cool wooden desk my back laid against.

“What are you-“ my words got lost as he cupped my chin harshly forcing me look up at him.

My body shuddered, I stayed frozen. My mouth hung open, desperately trying to say words that fell on deaf ears.

I couldn’t speak, I physically couldn’t, my words hung in the air like a sheet swaying in the wind on a clothes line.

“Why would you let him touch you, [name].” his voice was low and husky. It didn’t even sound like a question anymore, it felt like a command.

Like he was commanding me to stay helpless beneath him, commanding me to answer his ‘questions’.

More like demands.

“Thats none of your business Ghost- Get off of me!” I shouted, my voice trembling slightly as I tried to use my palms to push him back,

but to no avail.

He was anticipating this, Ghost stood tall like a brick wall in front of me. Keeping my cheeks in his rough gloved hand.

I was stuck.

lmk if yall want a pt 2 cuz this is over a year old😭😭 maybe ill have motivation

[thecircularsystem]

Okay, English teacher to the rescue, hopefully. Let’s try to simplify this.

OP: System posting is allowed to be silly.

Random Person: Yeah I hate the focus on trauma.

Korya: Hey, while I agree people are allowed to be silly, talking about the trauma part is still important, and too much focus on the sillies can be harmful.

OP: Actually systems owe you nothing. We don’t need to post about our trauma, I want to be silly.

Korya: Nowhere did I say you had to post about trauma. All I was saying is that everyone only focusing on the more fun aspects, like alters, and never discussing the traumatic aspects, like what CDD systems experience, can lead to misinformation.

OP: Sorry if I’m misunderstanding, but what you’re saying feels like you’re saying I can’t post about alters. It isn’t misinformation to share silly things. You can post about trauma, but you should be allowed to be silly.

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: The above statement is part of what Korya said originally! You are in agreement!)

Korya: Yes, you are misunderstanding me. To clarify, I wasn’t doubling down, and I was just trying to add to the conversation.

OP: You are not clarifying. I’m sorry I misunderstood. I said people can be silly, and you said they have to share their trauma or else it’s misinformation. All I said is we don’t have to focus on trauma. What do you think is misinformation about that?

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: Korya never claimed you can’t silly. They just said that always and forever only being silly is kind of erasing the trauma part of a trauma disorder pretty frequently, and EVERYONE ONLY EVER being silly can lead to aspects of CDDs and disordered plurality being erased. They never disagreed with your premise and said directly in their first response that they agreed with it.)

Korya: I have clarified and I don’t know how to clarify more. You started a conversation and I added to it with more insight. I didn’t respond to just what you said, but to what everyone has said on this topic in the past. Like I’ve said a few times now, I wasn’t calling you out (or disagreeing with you). You keep asking me for clarification, which I have tried to give. I explained that you misunderstood and you continued to say the same misunderstanding. I will stop the conversation here because the communication barrier is getting frustrating.

OP: You haven’t clarified shit and now I’m mad. I tried to be nice and polite but you rejected clarifying and rejected a conversation. You disagree with me and you said it’s misinformation to be silly online. You talk weird and I am now going to make fun of you for it, because I feel like you made fun of me for my lack of English skills, despite the fact that I brought it up. Fuck off and I’m now calling this post harassment of a teenager.

Korya: Well now I’m going to point out you’re legally an adult, and you’re arguing in an adult space about adult topics. Also your language barrier is the issue here.

……..

Does that clarify? =_=

TL;DR: OP, Korya literally said “I agree with you” and then added more thoughts. You read that and immediately went “that is a disagreement.” The word agree means the opposite of disagreement.

To further the actual convo Korya was trying to have (and Korya, I’d love to take this to discord or a different post!), people are absolutely allowed to post about the fun aspects of their disorder, but I do wish the trauma aspects were also celebrated. Or at least fucking welcomed.

Seeing constant posts of “I can’t believe people focus on their suffering, stupid fucking miserable people” really hurts as someone who tries to hold their trauma close for understanding and healing. I can’t grow past it unless I embrace it, and being told that it is bad to do so sucks — and many individuals (not OP, but many) in this topic of conversation treat my trauma as if it’s bad to even mention.

“DID/disordered plurality isn’t just about having silly guys in your brain, it’s about TRAUMA AND SUFFERING”

yeah ok sure. but it can also be about the silly guys. that’s okay too

[adonneniel]

Ok, after finishing Veilguard and sleeping on it, my final impression remains disappointment and frustration. Spoilerific thoughts beneath the cut. Long post. Maybe a bit ranty/incoherent in parts, but I don't feel like going back to edit.

Positives, in no particular order:

The game is beautiful, even on (mostly) medium settings. Despite wishing for a few more wavy options, the hair is perfection and I honestly can't complain.

On a related note, the character creator is amazing. Customizing body & face tattoos! Height and weight sliders!!! I wish the bust and glute sliders went a further, but whatever. I can live. I like that we can import our characters on a new save, and I hope they patch in an option to do that with the Inquisitor as well.

Mechanically it was fun to play

THE BLOOD OF ARLATHAN QUEST. Absolute perfection. Everything I wanted out of this game. I felt hopeless and overwhelmed. My skin crawled. My gut clenched. The horrors of the Venatori were on full display & served as an excellent parallel to the rise of irl facism. And Solas an Elgar'nan exchanging insults inside my head?? I was giddy. I felt the centuries of compounding animosity mixed with grudging respect. I felt utterly out of my depths and it was wonderful. (And LMAO at the one dude fangirling over Rook)

The siege at Weisshaupt was pretty good too. I like failing. It makes the stakes feel real.

I loved the fresh take on Necromancy. Like, yessssss, make it beautiful and romantic and haunting! It's such a interesting departure from necromancy = gross & evil. They even made it mesh with spirit lore and kept the question of an afterlife alive.

Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain's relationship. I was not expecting them to genuinely care for one another. It did a good job humanizing them & helped balance out the "muahahaha evil" vibe.

I actually didn't mind the magitech-ness. It makes sense that the ancient elves perfected magic to that point, and Tevinter really felt like a knock off version built on the elven empire's bones. It still looked fantasy overall.

I like most of the lore reveals. They were well foreshadowed and, no, I don't get the impression that they just decided to randomly make all the popular theories true. Even if that's the case for a few, they still make sense. (Though I can understand why people might be let down by all "the elves did it!!")

Fighting alongside Solas at the end was fun. Directing my companions during the final fight was fun. I liked that some of them could die (and did--poor Harding)

Solas in general honestly. I didn't find him out of character, just more openly desperate than he was in Inquisition. I also don't hate his dynamic with Mythal like some people, though I understand why it's divisive.

All that said, the negatives still outweigh the positives.

The writing felt timid. Like they were scared to offend anyone so they just decided to ignore the messy parts of their lore and/or hide it behind codex entries that most players probably don't even read.

All those lore drops and we barely had time to sit with them or deal with cultural consequences. Especially when religion is such a huge part of culture? You can't just disprove it and expect people to move on in a few conversations. The Dalish especially should be a wreck.

Tevinter was a disappointment after all the build up we've gotten over last three games. And no, I don't accept southern propaganda and events happening off screen as an excuse. It just reeks of lazy writing. Dorian and Mae's political party failed. Fenris and Dorian are primary sources. Tevinter is fucked up and we should've seen it explicitly on screen, not just limited to a few nasty individuals and codex entries. Instead of a racist, mage run slave state, we got a generic corrupt city with the unique bits alluded to. If you want to argue that it's just because we were in dock town, so obviously we wouldn't be seeing the decadent mage aristocracy...that's just an excuse. The writers didn't have to make that choice.

Wtf did they do to the Crows??? The assassins built on brutality and child slavery are now just being presented as freedom fighters??? Don't try to tell me Zevran reformed things behind the scenes. That's just another excuse for lazy writing (not to mention that he's dead in some player's worldstates). They didn't even deal with Lucanis' abusive upbringing! And it was right there!

The Lords of Fortune are a joke. Pirates Against Cultural Appropriation. Seriously? Combined with that codex entry trying to convince us that their fighting pit is purely volunteer based and death free?? Nah. I don't buy it. They were ultimately useless to the plot and even to the worldbuilding. I learned absolutely nothing about Rivain that hasn't already been told to us in past games (and they didn't even take the chance to show us those things! We just got an empty beach and a few background npcs.)

Tbh this all just feels like another symptom of the game's timid writing. We're good people who only ally with other good people. There's no "enemy of my enemy is my friend". There's no faction with ulterior motives. There's not even a political quagmire we have to navigate to get the Good Ones on our side. The closest we get is the First Warden. And tbh the Wardens are the only faction I felt was truly well written and well integrated into the overall plot. The Mourn Watch was interesting, but they mostly did their own thing over in the corner.

God, don't even get me started on the elves. No existential dilemmas when their gods are running rampant. Even the major god revelations happened off screen! The Veil Jumpers already knew! Lazy lazy lazy.

AND. AND they somehow projected their white guilt onto the most persecuted minority in Thedas! I wanted to crawl out of my skin every time someone apologized for what their people (the gods) did to the world. And to make it worse, they barely, barely, showed anti-elf racism on screen. A few throwaway lines are laughable in the face of that. As a jew--one of the groups DA elves are inspired by--I'm insulted and disgusted.

And someone pointed out that a Crow codex used the phrase "Never Again" in relation to the Dales? Get that phrase out of your mouth, Bioware.

In a similar vein, their treatment of the Antaam reeked of racism and orientalism, even moreso than usual. Big brutes yelling in a scary language with artificially low voices?? Barely dressed? We don't even get to talk with one until the end of the game? Other people have explained it better than me, so I'll leave it at this.

"Why do you want racism in your game? Are you secretly a racist edgelord in real life? Do you get off on people calling you a knife-ear? Do you just want an excuse to be a piece of shit?"

NO. I want good writing. I want realism. If you're going to include racism in your worldbuilding (which Dragon Age does), you have to own it. You have to deal with it. You can't just sweep it under the carpet because you want to avoid more controversy. The absence in Veilguard makes it look worse. You can't pat yourself on the back for angering the anti-woke brigade while perpetuating your own racist tropes. Do the writers even know they're being racist, or do they think it's all ok because the player isn't allowed to be fantasy racist?

Taash's story is a good example. Why the fuck are we put in charge of deciding their culture for them? Why is it tied to their gender? As a cis person I won't comment on the gender bits (I've heard conflicting opinions), but the culture aspect is handled terribly. Seriously. What the actual fuck, Bioware?

The companion situation has been beat to death, but I mostly agree with the criticism that everything is too HR-friendly. And I honestly can't believe those Taash/Emmrich and Harding/Emmerich intervention scenes actually made it through editing. I felt like a fucking preschool teacher lecturing children on how to play nicely. bad bad bad

I don't, however, think the companions are awful. They just kinda bored me. Or maybe not bored, but...didn't grab me? I like some of them, but I don't love them. There's no one I latched onto that makes me go feral. But I can accept that it's a matter of preference. I'm glad some people are happy, and I don't mean that sarcastically.

Maybe I'd feel differently if the game wasn't marketed as "found family"?

More personal preference: I don't like Rook, and I don't like their relationship with the companions. It feels too sterile & corporate, and Rook feels simultaneously too blank and too defined. And the defined bits of their personality are not for me. Dialogue options weren't diverse enough in feel.

LOL at not allowing the player to asshole options, but then the best we can give Harding is "Haha, no idea what you're talking about but good for you. Bye."

Also the game couldn't seem to decide whether my Rook was Dalish or not? According to the mirror I'm not, but then Rook outright says she's Dalish later in the game... Which is it, Bioware? Which is it?

THEY DELETED SOUTHERN THEDAS OFFSCREEN.

The illuminati secret ending is an awful decision. Way to take agency away from some of the more interesting antagonists. And this was obviously a retcon? There was no buildup to this. At most they were toying with the concept in DA:I, which is when the Executors were introduced.

It's hard to think of this game as a love letter to the fans when these last two points feel like a huge middle finger to everything that came before.

Yeah. Just...yeah.

Disappointment and frustration. All the building blocks for a great game are there, but they just...didn't come to fruition.

I might do another playthrough, but I also I might just take what I like from the lore and go back to previous games + my silly crossover fanfic. And BG3. That obsession was only just taking root when DATV came out, and I didn't get a chance to sit with it.

I'm sad.

[loveparqdise]

Summary: chris is a drug dealer and y/n’s a ballerina. you’re not happy with they way he does drugs and kills himself by doing so.

Warning: angst, cursing, drugs? yeah i think that’s all. no smut.

A/N: this is my first fan fic i don’t know if it’s nice or not but it took me a while. it’s based on the song “you by chase atlantic” (it’s a really good song) and there is a bot also on my cai acc based on this, this fic is more detailed tho. (cai is same as my username on here jf you wanna check it out.) feedback is always appreciated and tell me if you want me to do more in the future! also if you wanna be added to my tag list please comment on this post! 🤍

chris was a pretty fucked up dealer, tbh. he would sell drugs, take them, party and that was — until he met you. you changed his life. you were a ballerina, you were usually quiet and reserved. he met you at one of your shows, the show nick literally dragged him too.

despite him being a dealer, who does drugs, you couldn’t help but fall in love. you both started dating, around a few months ago. you guys were like a normal couple, if you weren’t comfortable with something, he wouldn’t force you — no, not at all. he would respect your boundaries.

you’d just wish he stopped doing drugs. he was literally killing himself, every single day and he knew that. and still he would do it. one day, you finally thought you’d break up with him, so you told him to come to the spot you and chris always went too. he arrived and saw you sitting there. he approached you and sat next to you, giving a small kiss on your cheek. “hey, ma. why’d you call me here all of a sudden?” his fingers intertwined with yours as he gently caressed your hand with his thumb.

“chris, i don’t think this is working, i mean, i really really love you but you’re killing yourself everyday because of these drugs, and i hate seeing you like this, i’m giving you time to work on yourself. we can be together after some time, chris i promise.”

he felt as if a ton of bricks hit him at once. were you really breaking up with him? he couldn’t stand this, he wanted to cry, he wanted to scream at you, “are you serious? really y/n? after all we’ve been through you’re throwing it all away just because i do drugs?” anger and frustration were clear in his voice, he just couldn’t get it.

“chris, try to understand please, i do love you but i want you to work on yourself and stop doing drugs, please.” he scoffed, he couldn’t believe your words. he got up, “whatever.” he left, on the outside, it looked like he didn’t care but on the inside he was breaking, he felt as if a dagger had hit his heart.

the next few months, chris worked everyday, to be a better person for you. he didn’t deal as much as he used to. he stopped taking drugs and going to parties. instead, he found his new hobby, writing songs. He wrote songs about you, about how deep in love he was with you.

he wouldn’t release it until you forgave him, he wanted you to be there with him throughout this journey. he finally thought it was time to talk to you, tell you that he’s improving. he reached your house & knocked on your door. his heart was beating fast. what if you found another guy? what if you had a boyfriend who was way better than him? what if— his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by hearing the door open.

there you were, wearing a simple outfit but gosh you looked absolutely stunning. he handed you the flowers he bought you, your expression softened. “Hey.” he was clearly nervous, you returned a smile and told him to come in.

you both sat on the couch as he handed you a book, it was full of his songs that he wrote for you. “I wrote this song for you, I put down the drugs for you, I’m so in love with you, A thousand apologies couldn’t make up for the time that I’ve wasted. I've improved. Please give me another chance, let me show you how much I love you.”

“chris, these songs they’re—” you started off but suddenly cut off by chris’s voice, “yeah i know they’re horrible.” he chuckled, looking down and fidgeting with his fingers. “chris what? they’re literally amazing, there’s so much emotion and feelings in these lyrics, i’m so proud of you.” you held his hand, he finally looked up to see your face, you had a soft smile on your face, love was clear on your face. “you really think so?” he looked at you, “i know so.”

you smiled and cupped his face, “i think i’m ready to be together with you. i love you so much.” chris’s eyes widened, he wasn’t expecting you to forgive him so easily, he couldn’t help but just jump on you and kiss the fuck out of you. “i love you.” he said and after that he fucked you on the couch and showed you who you belong too.

tysm for reading! i hoped you liked it, it was my first one so it’s probably horrible😭 if you could reblong it would be really kind tysm <3

divided by @enchanthings

[darcytaylor]

I saw someone use occams razor to come to the conclusion that N is with JD and that L is with A. I think that it's a logical approach when speculating on things and now I have lost all hope in a lot of the theories. It makes me sad.

Applying Occam's Razor to relationships and dynamics that are already complicated doesn’t really work, especially with people (at least that is what I think). It can seem like it makes things clearer, but I think it can end up oversimplifying or misrepresenting what’s going on. Human connections are rarely that straightforward, especially in the public eye, where even the smallest interaction can be blown up and turned into something else entirely.

Do I think it makes sense in this situation that Nicola could be with JD and Luke could be with Antonia? Absolutely! But I also realize that I don’t know them, and people are more complicated than the simplest answer. (If you’ve read my post about my childhood, you’d understand a bit more why I can’t get behind Occam’s Razor when it comes to people.)

It’s totally understandable that people want to use logic to find patterns (I love logic and I love patterns), but when speculation becomes too simplistic - like jumping to conclusions based on a few moments - it misses the messier, more complex side of relationships. People are layered, and their connections don’t always fit neatly into a “logical” or "simple" box. So yeah, using Occam's Razor like this can be frustrating when they ignore all the nuances. Also, I'm pretty sure that when using Occam's Razor, just because you use the simplest explanation, doesn't invalidate all of the other ones. I think in this situation it's used incorrectly.

Relationships don’t really fit into the framework of a "model" in the way that scientific theories or explanations do - where Occam's Razor would work best. Occam's Razor suggests, when we have competing explanations, we should prefer the simplest one. But I think relationships are too complex for this approach to work effectively. Human interactions are layered with emotional, social, and psychological factors that don’t reduce neatly to "simplest" or "most probable." And then without knowing the individuals involved, our understanding is already compromised by layers of speculation and assumption.

At least you’re staying cautious and keeping an open mind. That shows you’re thinking critically, but not everything needs to fit the most “logical” or "simplest" narrative to be true.

[sketchnskribbles]

A03 | Rectifying Fallacies

The rhythmic clacking of keys echoed through the main room of the hidden mesa base. The noise was level. Controllable. Soothing. A familiar presence. One of the few things that this organic planet had in common with his wonderful homeworld.

It brought a sense of ease that lulled him into the calm of a mindless task. A quiet chore that brought a peace that he could hardly find at any other point within this senseless war. 

A silent alarm popped up in the bottom right corner of his screen and he gritted his denta at the reminder that the children were nearly done with their last day of school before summer break. Because that was just what they needed. Sparklings underpede. 

He shuttered his optics, stretched his digits, and continued his current job. He only had a few short earth hours before the next two months. Which would be filled with youngling fun and fancy free. An absolute boon to the war effort, he was sure. Note the sarcasm. 

He pushed away the souring thoughts. They wouldn't serve anything other than ruin his mood more than it already was. 

He'd gotten back into his groove when a Deception proximity alarm screamed through the mesa. 

A window concerning the potential danger popped up in front of his work and he nearly threw one of his tools in a fit of rage. He didn't, as he was a fully grown cybertronian and he needed those tools.

He maximized the window and narrowed his optics at the information. The signal was unknown. Meaning that it wasn't of any decepticon that they'd been in contact with since they'd moved into this mesa. Magnificent. He wished yet again that they had access to Teletraan I. But Primus-only-knew where the Ark was in this blasted universe.

The bot sighed and notified his team of the disturbance. He got four acknowledgements and ETAs. The heavy pedefalls of his oldest and closest friend coming near brought down some of his frustrated anger. He breathed in a deep breath and closed out of all his open programs. Leaving only the map showing the signal.

Moving away from his monitors, he turned around to greet his Prime. "Optimus."

"Ratchet." The deep baritone welcomed back. The Prime settled his hand on his shoulder plating and giving it a comforting squeeze, as he walked past. He peered at the screens to oversee the tripped alarm and hummed in consideration. That familiar gleam of the infamous strategist brightened up his gaze. "It is of unknown origin."

"Indeed. A new menace to grapple with." The older bot rolled his eyes.

"Or… perhaps a weary soul in need of better allies?" The Prime retorted back with his usual bout of hope.

"As if any Con would understand the meaning of the word." The medic huffed. "You expect too much out of thieves, societal rejects, and ex-convicts."

For a moment, the taller bot looked surprised. Then pained. Ratchet felt a lurch at his spark when he actually took the time to analyze his words. 

He blinked and pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensor. There he went, shoving his pede into his derma. Again. "I… I'm sorry Optimus. That came out wrong."

"But full of truth." His leader gently chided. That look of disappointment never faltered. Ratchet sighed and looked away.

"I am sorry. You know of my past and how I was raised… but that is no excuse." Ratchet felt the familiar weight of his friend's servo land back on his shoulder. A comforting weight. Forgiving. The old bot looked back over to the younger mech. They smiled.

Optimus looked back up to the signal and then teasingly back down to the medic. "What do you say we scout out the signal together? It's rather close to being time for our charges to be picked up by their guardians."

"I'd say we're asking for trouble."

"Hmm, that doesn't sound like a no to me." Optimus had already inserted the coordinates into the ground bridge, powering it up. 

Ratchet felt the tell tale of a ping reverberate through him. One that he was sure was felt by the rest of the team. It notified the rest of their orders from the Prime, to retrieve their humans and to join them at base on standby at the soonest opportunity.

There were more pings that flew in soon after. Full of complaints and acknowledgments. They were happily ignored as the two walked through the gate. 

It led into a road through a forest of trees. 

From the position specified on their internal maps, they were about a couple hours away from the heavily populated city of Los Angeles.

It was honestly not too far away from their own home base in Nevada. Less than a day, even. Which was much too close for comfort in Ratchet's opinion. 

He followed Optimus through the trees. Their optics to the skies as they scanned for the source of the signature. It didn't take very long to find the jet. 

They heard the engine long before they caught sight of it. A worryingly familiar palette of purple and black made it ever obvious just who it was, despite the unfamiliar altmode.

" Skywarp." Ratchet growled, his optics narrowing at the jet above. 

He slipped a servo into his subspace and brought out a tiny gadget given to him by Wheeljack. The wrecker had created it on a whim and given it to the medic proclaiming that it needed to be "field-tested" by the team. 

He hadn't yet brought it up with Optimus. A fact that was backed up when the Prime looked down at the medic's arm cannon in confusion while Ratchet inserted the device within a small port that seamlessly opened up.

"...What is that, old friend?" Optimus looked back up to meet Ratchet's optics, wariness pooling in his own. The medic didn't hold the same concerns.

"Jackie said he needed this field-tested. So here it is!" His answer didn't seem to be to his leader's satisfaction.

"Ratchet… let's not be too hasty." A servo found its way over top of his weapon. With enough pressure to imply that he needed to put it down, rather than forcing him to do so. The medic rolled his optics.

"If all goes well, it'll merely incapacitate him. Not kill him. Wheeljack knows of how you operate and wouldn't dare to go outside of those bounds." Ratchet looked over to his old friend, the corners of his lips curling downward the slightest bit. "For all my misgivings with him, I know he respects you too much to do something like that."

With that said, the old medic took aim. An optic closed as he aligned the sights with the plane overhead. He took the shot.

The old bot turned around to smile with pride at his leader, as the plane stalled in the distance. Blue arches of electricity danced along Skywarp’s frame as he was forced down to the ground by gravity.

“I'm quite surprised you actually agreed to test it, old friend.” Optimus sighed and shook his head when the ground shook and a few of the trees ahead cracked and fell. 

“Oh, no. I've run test after test on my terminal on this thing. Also checked the power output and many other things.” Ratchet nullified with a shrug. “I kind of liked the idea of temporarily incapacitating a foe. Just too bad that some of the materials to obtain it are either expensive or hard to obtain.”

“Is that so?” Optimus began his trek forward toward the decepticon. His medic, right on his heels.

A03 | Rectifying Fallacies

[aventurineswife]

can you write how any of the om brothers would react with a bimbo(in a gn way) mc. like they are stunning and so so sweet.. but just so fucking stupid it's honestly astounding .

Obey Me! Brothers with a Thembo

Tags: Lucifer x Reader, Mammon x Reader, Leviathan x Reader, Satan x Reader, Asmodeus x Reader, Beelzebub x Reader, Belphegor x Reader, Thembo!MC/Reader, Fluff, Soft Romance, Comedy, Protective Characters, Domestic Moments, Gentle Teasing, Affectionate Dynamics, Wholesome Vibes, Slice of Life.

Lucifer

At first, Lucifer is utterly baffled. How can someone so stunning be so naive? He’ll try his best to guide you, carefully explaining things, but after a few blank stares, his frustration will start to show. He’s constantly torn between wanting to help and wondering if you’re messing with him. Eventually, though, he finds your innocence endearing and even refreshing. He’ll start sticking around more, ready to gently steer you away from trouble—often with an exasperated sigh, but always with a soft, knowing smile reserved just for you.

“MC, I asked you to write your name at the top of the form. Not sign it. And why ‘Beautiful Genius’? ... Never mind, just—please, no more surprises, alright?”

Mammon

Mammon is immediately charmed and overwhelmed. He’s head over heels for your sweetness and good nature, but it never ceases to amaze him just how oblivious you are. He’s fiercely protective of you, always standing up for you when others might tease. While he loves bragging about your beauty and kind heart, he conveniently leaves out the moments when he’s had to explain the simplest concepts. Your innocence and cheerful demeanor are his favorite things, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“You really gotta stop givin' stuff away for free, MC! And what’s with buying a lamp for 100,000 Grimm? 'Cause it’s shiny? Come on, you're better than that!"

Leviathan

Levi is completely flustered by your innocence. He’s used to complex strategies and serious gaming, so interacting with you is like trying to explain the basics of a game to a toddler. Despite that, he finds your undivided attention both adorable and overwhelming. Every time you cheer him on—even when he’s just rambling about something nerdy—he melts a little. Your constant sweetness makes him feel warm inside, even if you don't understand half the things he says.

“W-Wait, you’re cheering me on? We’re just in practice mode, MC… No, no need to bring snacks—oh, but you did anyway? Thanks, I guess?”

Satan

At first, Satan tries to keep his composure, despite how shocked he is by your cluelessness. He’ll be patient, explaining things in detail, even as you misunderstand or misinterpret. Instead of getting frustrated, though, he finds your quirks fascinating and kind of endearing. If anyone dares to mock you, (Satan’s wrath is swift and brutal). Over time, he comes to cherish your unique interpretations of things and even looks forward to them.

“MC, Shakespeare isn’t a vegetable… Wait, you want to make a ‘Hamlet salad’? No, that’s not what—oh, you know what? Fine, let’s just read it together.”

Asmodeus

Asmo is completely smitten with you. He’s in awe of your beauty and your adorably naive misunderstandings. Every time you misinterpret something, he finds it endlessly amusing. He’s always showering you with compliments and making sure you feel appreciated. He’s also more than happy to explain anything you don’t understand, often in the most dramatic and theatrical ways. Asmo is incredibly proud of you and loves showing you off—though maybe not when you mistake sunscreen for tea.

“Darling, you’re absolutely stunning, but sunscreen goes on your face, not in your tea. What kind of skincare routine is that?!”

Beelzebub

Beel is the epitome of patience. He loves how sweet and genuine you are, and he’s more than happy to help you out when things go over your head. If you ever get confused or make a mistake, Beel gently explains things without ever getting frustrated. He loves spending time with you, and even when you accidentally order fifty cakes, he’s just happy to be there with you. Honestly, he thinks there’s no such thing as too much cake, especially when it's more for the two of you to share.

“MC, when they asked if you wanted one dozen or two, they meant for you to eat, not order. But hey, no big deal… More for us, right?”

Belphegor

Belphie finds your innocence a little amusing at first. He’s smug about it, especially when you come to him with questions that seem too simple for him to answer. But underneath the teasing, he secretly finds your sweet, untainted view of the world a nice contrast to the chaos around him. He’ll never let anyone else make fun of you, and over time, he actually starts finding your quirks comforting. He’ll tease you about your little missteps, but he can’t help but keep some of your adorable misunderstandings as little mementos.

“MC, you’re seriously searching ‘sheep facts’ for me? Yeah, good luck with that… Wait, you actually did? Hah, fine, I’ll keep this list... it’s cute, okay?”

SOMEONE PLZ REQUEST FOR THE UNDATEABLES!! PLZZ IM BEGGING!! I WANNA WRITE FOR MY PRETTY GOTHIC REAPER WIFE, WANNA WRITE FOR ANGEL HUSBAND WHO LOVES SOLOMON'S COOKING AND THE THAT BARNEY LOOKING AHHH DUDE!!! (JK I LOVE MEPHISTO TOO!!! 🤭💜) 🛐🫣

[monstersflashlight]

Hi! This is not a request or anything like that, I just want to share an annoyance I've had recently and I don't feel like any other side of Tumblr can understand/ relate to it. (I also don't except a reply, I just need to rant a little).

I have a thing for ghosts, like the supernatural kind. Absolutely love it so much, and it's usually hard to come by stories (spicy stories) written about / with ghosts. So when I find someone posting about it, I follow and bookmark if the stories are good (which I've done with your blog! Absolutely LOVE your ghost stories)

However, in the last few years, the game "Gall Of Duty" have had a rise in fame with one of their characters named 'Ghost', so now when I'm searching for stories about spicy ghosts, I find 95% of them are about that character.

Don't get me wrong, I do have a mask-kink and there are some really good stories about it out there. It just makes it a lot harder to find stories about supernatural ghosts, cause when I search for it I have to spend a good amount of time weeding out the character from the supernatural.

And yes, I know I can add 'supernatural' to my tagged searches, but not all stories about ghosts are tagged with the supernatural (often, oddly enough, are the stories not tagged with that).

And because I have ADD, my brain doesn't always put ghosts under the category 'monsters', so I kinda forgett to add that to my searches as well.

It's just a small annoyance, I do admit that. But it's just annoying when i am in the mood and kinda just want to to do a quick search and then ending up spending a couple of hours trying to find what I actually am looking for.

Idk, just thought someone could relate, and maybe have some tips?

Lots of love?

X

Hi anon! I understand the frustration, I'd say your best bet is to block the Call of Duty tag so those don't show, or maybe follow the monster blogs to find the stuff directly from the source. I don't know if those advice would work, maybe someone else has an idea. :)

[sourassin]

From the perspective of developing with WordPress, there’s a lot of potential there in terms of in-place site and page building, but it’s really not there yet, and the mismatch between the old system and the new makes it more unwieldy than it should be. At the moment it very much behaves like it expects you to build a website in a particular way, and doesn’t understand any variation from that. They’re bringing in block-based themes, where the technology seems even less user-ready (to the extent that I, who have been building websites with WP for *mumblecough* years, struggled to put together a basic three page & blog listing site for a friend)

It also very much functions as if they’ve forgotten that most people run it on shared hosting that doesn’t provide enough processing power etc; developing with WP was driving me up the wall until we moved to a server with twice the capacity. (If you are self-hosted, I’m trying to resist the urge to troubleshoot it for you; if you’re on WP[.]com rather than a self-hosted site and it’s struggling with the new UI, then yikes)

AFAIK there is some rationale to using blocks in terms of Future Internet Technology, but I’ve not seen anything about it that wasn’t just the hard sell for switching to the blocks system wholesale. As mentioned in the replies, it would make sense that they want to align the development of both platforms.

From a purely personal perspective, I like the WYSIWYG view of WP blocks infinitely more than the old WYSIWYG ui, and although I preferred the old partial HTML editor, the new UI is much easier for my colleagues to get to grips with. I think the more comfortable you are with html, the more annoying the blocks system is, because it pushes that formatting further from the surface. (I haven’t really tried the new HTML editor - I know it shows you the block formatting and therefore may not be as straightforward to use)

(And I mostly use the Tumblr app, so my expectations are already low here. tbh I kind of like the paragraph reordering thing - it works much better here than WP’s version does on desktop)

With the new post editor on tumblr being pushed harder and harder, and the increasing warnings that the legacy editor will go away soon, I was wondering if anyone actually knows like…why they are doing this. 

Wordpress, which owns Tumblr, has the same unwieldy and crash-prone structure on its site, where each paragraph, image, media, or other element of a page or post is a “block” and you combine blocks to make the page. Because I produce a lot of original content and a significant portion of it is fairly complex (lots of text, text and photos interacting, links lists), I constantly run into the issue, with the new editor, of being unable to edit posts comprehensively because I have to move paragraphs one at a time (no selecting more than one block!) and if I select the start or end of a paragraph to edit, it either refuses to edit at all, or crashes. If a post is longer than about a page, the editor crashes regardless, consistently, and generally just after I’ve made significant edits that haven’t yet saved. (Sometimes it crashes because it tried to save.) 

I suppose it’s possible that Wordpress just thinks we’re dumbfucks who can’t program html and is trying to make it “easier” but it’s not making like…anything easier. I can’t imagine it takes less processing power on the code end, either, or my posts wouldn’t crash, something they never do in the Legacy editor.

So like…what’s the benefit of this? Does anyone know? I presume there is one, I just can’t figure out how this new post structure (or the page structure on Wordpress, which causes me headaches every time I try to update my author site) is of any benefit to anyone, anywhere. Presumably this makes Tumblr and Wordpress more compatible but like, why the fuck are they doing it this way on Wordpress, either? Can someone explain it to me like I’m five, please. (I’m a pretty bright five but still.)