#but here’s the real kicker is that it will take time to get where i want to go

[enterstellars]

guys i cannot wait to move

[lost-romantique]

Does Stolas deserve to lose everything?

The answer is a simple: No! Of course not!

What happened to Stolas in Mastermind was horrible, he essentially lost everything he ever knew in a very cruel and unusual way, and the real kicker is the fact that the punishment is rather light in comparison to the punishment Blitz would have gotten if he hadn't stepped in.

But why did it happen? Simple.

It happened for the sake of Stolas' future character development.

It didn't happen to "punish" Stolas when the man really only has the best of intentions.

Surprise! Surprise!

I want to highlight this specific statement Apology Tour's description states: Stolas still not being quite self aware enough at times.

Stolas genuinely does not know what is wrong between them, he genuinely can not understand the issues

If there is one thing Stolas has always wanted to know, it's the why...

Why is Blitz so guarded with me? Why does Blitz accuse me of looking down on him? Why does Blitz always mention my Princely status when talking about our relationship?

And here's the thing, even if Blitz were to sit Stolas down calmly and explain the why, Stolas will never get it. He will never understand it.

Stolas will never understand the struggles Blitz went through and still goes through just by living as an imp.

Blitz is an asshole, but you can't say he isn't determined.

When Blitz wants something so fucking bad, he'll get it, it doesn't matter who he needs to steal from, who he needs to fuck, who he needs to kill, lie, and cheat with... He's going to get it.

Blitz wants to be his own boss, he doesn't want to be like any other imp who works for someone else, so he'll do whatever it takes to make that dream a reality.

And the thing is Stolas wants to do better and understand Blitz's point of view... he states it time and time again.

Unless it's me And no matter what in this world I could give It's not enough To get through the walls you've conjured up to live

But maybe it's all on me For missin' every sign and every glance And every turn

Maybe there's somethin' here for us to glean For you to teach, and me to try to learn

~~~

The sad part is that Stolas is just going to have to learn it the hard way because where's the fun in just giving Stolas a book to read...

[shitsndgiggs]

Hey there is this one fic where you did kenan going through our text messages can you do one where we are going through his text messages

Ty🐧

TABLES TURNED - KENAN YILDIZ

You reacting to Kenan’s DMs

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the kind where you stay in pajamas and lounge around with no particular plans.

Kenan and I were sprawled on the couch, his head resting on my lap as I absentmindedly ran my fingers through his hair.

I had my phone in one hand, scrolling aimlessly, when I suddenly remembered the TikTok trend that Kenan and I had done the other day—where he read through my DMs and reacted to the chaos in them.

The memory of his over-the-top reactions, dramatic sighs, and occasional bouts of jealousy still made me laugh.

“What’re you laughing at?” Kenan asked, tilting his head up to look at me, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Oh, nothing,” I replied, grinning mischievously. “Just thinking about how hilarious you were during the DM thing.”

Kenan groaned. “Don’t remind me. Your DMs were a lot.”

“Exactly,” I said, poking his cheek. “And now it’s your turn.”

His eyes widened. “Wait—what?”

“You heard me,” I said, grabbing his phone from the coffee table before he could react. “We’re doing ‘My Girlfriend Reacts to My DMs.’”

Kenan shot up from my lap, attempting to snatch the phone back, but I dodged him, clutching it like my life depended on it. “Oh, no you don’t!” I teased. “You had your fun with my DMs—this is payback.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, trying to sound casual, but I caught the nervous edge in his voice.

“Kenan,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” he said quickly. Too quickly. “But you know how people can be in there… It’s not worth your time!”

“Oh, it’s definitely worth my time,” I shot back, unlocking his phone. “Now let’s see what we’ve got here.”

I started scrolling through his Instagram DMs while he sat next to me, shifting uncomfortably.

The first few messages were harmless—just fans expressing their admiration for his game or wishing him luck.

“Aw, this one’s sweet,” I said, showing him a message from a little kid asking for advice on how to become a football player. “See? This isn’t so bad.”

Kenan relaxed a bit. “Yeah, those are fine. That’s most of them, honestly.”

“Hmm, let’s see about that.” I scrolled further, and that’s when the real fun began.

“You’re so fine. If you ever need a rebound, hit me up. I’d take care of you better than your girl ever could.”

I read it aloud, my voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Oh, really? ‘Better than your girl ever could,’ huh?”

Kenan’s jaw dropped. “Who even says that?! Delete it. Block her. I don’t know her!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”

“No! Absolutely not,” he said, looking genuinely distressed. “She’s delusional. You know that.”

Next DM: “I have dreams about you, Kenan. Just one night is all I’d need.”

I choked on a laugh. “What do you even say to this?”

“I don’t say anything!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “I don’t even open them!”

“Sure, Mr. Modesty,” I teased. “I bet you love the attention.”

“Only from you,” he said, trying to butter me up.

Another one: A voice memo. I played it, and an overly dramatic voice purred, “Hey, Kenan. Just saw your game… You looked so hot out there. Maybe we could celebrate your win sometime? My treat.”

I looked at him with a mock-serious expression. “So… do you take her up on the offer, or…?”

Kenan groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Y/N, stop. This is so embarrassing.”

“No way,” I said, grinning. “This is amazing.”

Then came the kicker: A series of messages from someone who had clearly been trying to shoot her shot for months. Each one was thirstier than the last.

The most recent read: “If you ever get tired of your girlfriend, just know I’m waiting for my chance. I’d treat you like the king you are, baby.”

I dramatically gasped. “Kenan, how could you not reply to such a devoted admirer?”

“I didn’t ask for any of this!” he defended himself. “You know I only care about you.”

I leaned in close, pretending to scrutinize him. “Hmm. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

By the time I finished going through the DMs, Kenan looked like he’d been through the wringer.

His face was flushed, his hands in his hair, and he kept muttering about how unfair this was.

“Relax,” I said, setting his phone down. “It’s all in good fun.”

“For you, maybe,” he grumbled, but I could see the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“You survived,” I teased, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “And now I know you’re not secretly entertaining your fan club.”

“You didn’t have to do all that to know that,” he said softly, wrapping an arm around me. “You’re the only one I want, Y/N. Always.”

I couldn’t help but smile, my heart melting a little at his sincerity. “Good. Because I’m not sharing you with anyone.”

“Same goes for me,” he said, pulling me closer.

“But just so you know… I’m never letting you go through my DMs again.”

“Deal,” I said, laughing. “But only because I already got the content I needed.”

“You’re impossible,” Kenan muttered, but his grin gave him away as he kissed me.

[jadeshifting]

— TRAVELING THE MULTIVERSE vs TRAVELING THE WORLD

( a long-winded title for why you should never be scared to post about your niche, less-well-known or original DRs )

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

let’s be real: everyone and their mom is obsessed with jetting off to new places in the world. you know—scrolling through Pinterest boards of Paris cafes, watching vlogs of someone’s Bali retreat, or dreaming about backpacking through South America. we love soaking in the mystery of somewhere we’ve never been. but here’s the kicker: the multiverse is the ultimate travel destination, and it’s just as exciting to hear about someone’s niche desired reality as it is to hear about their trip to Rome

so why do shifters with “niche” DRs keep holding back? you think people only wanna hear about Hogwarts or being famous? PLEASE—we want to know about the far-off corners of your imagination—the places we didn’t even know existed until you opened your mouth. sharing those “off-the-beaten-path” DRs is like dropping us a postcard from another universe, and we fucking live for that

PASSPORT TO POSSIBILITY

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

in this reality, getting a passport is your ticket to explore the world. but shifting? that’s your multiversal passport, babe. and guess what? it’s got unlimited stamps

think about it—just like every country on Earth has its own unique vibe, culture, and history, every DR in the multiverse is brimming with flavor. you’re out here specifying realities with details so rich you could practically smell the street food or feel the cobblestones underfoot. why would you hold yourself back from sharing that kind of magic?

picture this: someone casually tells you they’re shifting to a DR where everyone speaks in rhymes, the skies are lavender, and the economy runs on fruit trading. that’s wild. that’s fresh. that’s kind of a great idea, scripting it right now—that’s the kind of content i need more of. don’t undermine your own creativity. the multiverse is endless, and your DR might be someone’s next “bucket list destination”

EVERY DESTINATION HAS A STORY

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

let’s talk travel bloggers for a sec, for the sake of examples. the best ones? they don’t just tell you about the tourist traps; they give you the juice. they show you the hole-in-the-wall cafe with the best fettuccine, or the tiny town with the down-low annual festival. and that’s exactly the energy i get excited for when you’re talking about your DRs

take Hogwarts, for example. we all wanna know what it’s like to sit in the Great Hall or attend Potions class (trust, we do), but if your DR is, say, a small coastal town in the Wizarding World where you run a little bookshop and spend your weekends drinking enchanted tea by the sea—i’d flip a table to read about that. it’s the details that make a place come alive, whether it’s in this reality or the one next door

your DR doesn’t have to be flashy or “mainstream” to be fascinating. in fact, the more specific and personal it is, the more i’m gonna eat it up

CULTURE SHOCK, BUT MAKE IT COSMIC

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

when people travel, one of the most exciting parts is witnessing and experiencing new cultures. trying new foods, hearing new languages, learning customs that are totally different from your own—it’s all part of the adventure. shifting is a similar deal, but on a cosmic scale

(eyeing those of us with completely original fantasy DRs) maybe your DR has a society where time doesn’t exist, the sky is a different color, or you’re going to work alongside trolls and fairies. maybe in your DR, everyone has a telepathic connection to their past. or maybe you’re in a city built on floating islands where people commute via hot air balloon. give it to me, NOW

don’t underestimate how fascinating and cool your DR sounds just because it doesn’t fit the typical mold. people love hearing about the unfamiliar—whether it’s a country they’ve never visited or a reality they’ve never even imagined

THE TOURIST TRAP MENTALITY

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

you know how everyone and their dog wants to see the Eiffel Tower, even though some people say it’s overrated? it’s totally natural to seek out common experiences, to want to experience and enjoy the same things others are raving about. people, including myself, often gravitate towards the most common DRs (especially when you’re just starting out shifting, and you’ve been given a ticket to the multiverse that you’re trying to make digestible)—Hogwarts, MCU, fame DRs. they’re familiar, there’s tons to read about them, and they’re beyond easy to romanticize. don’t get me wrong, those DRs are classics for a reason, but they’re certainly not the only stops on the multiversal map

your DR might not have a castle or superheroes or any magic at all, but it’s got you—your story, your vision, your unique little slice of the multiverse. and if you’re wanting and willing to share it, there’s always someone out there who’s gonna vibe with it hard—probably countless people. trust me, people are dying to hear about the realities they never even knew existed

SHARE THE JOURNEY, NOT JUST THE DESTINATION

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

part of what makes travel so fascinating is the stories people tell about getting there—the long flights, the missed trains, the odd stories in airports which are basically liminal spaces. shifting is the same way. it’s not just about where you’re going; it’s about all the intricacies of getting there (read: scripting, basically programming your destination into the GPS)

did you script a whole language for your DR? did you spend hours designing the perfect house? did you practically write a novel of the love story between you and your partner? that’s the good stuff. that’s the behind-the-scenes content that makes your DR feel real and relatable, even to the people that aren’t shifting there—to us, it’s like tugging back the curtain on the most creative film of all the time and showing everyone how it was done. you multiversal mastermind

THE BOTTOM LINE: YOUR DR IS YOUR POSTCARD TO THE MULTIVERSE

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

every DR is a little piece of the multiverse that you can bring to light. it doesn’t matter if it’s niche, weird, or completely out of left field. the more unique it is, the more people are gonna wanna hear about it

so stop worrying about whether your DR is “cool enough” or “popular enough.” share it. rant about it. paint us a picture of the world you’ve built, the life you’re living, and the adventures you’re having. because just like with travel, the most unexpected destinations are often the most unforgettable

post about whatever DRs you want !! i wanna read all of them. xoxo :^)

[jonquilyst]

Day 0 - Introduction

🎵 Dear Mom and Dad, I’m doin’ fine. You guys are on my mind… 🎵

Welcome to the premiere of the 3rd season of Total Drama Sims: the hottest, freshest reality TV show on simblr! I’m your host jonquilyst, though I'm sure by now you already know that 😜

18 ambitious teenagers have gathered to put their wits, guts, and strength to the test to seek out the ✨ grand prize. ✨ Like the previous two seasons, they will compete in crazy challenges, deal with less-than-perfect living arrangements, and face the judgement of each other!

🎵 You asked me what I wanted to be, and I think the answer is plain to see… 🎵

🎵 I wanna live close to the sun. Pack your bags ‘cause I’ve already won… 🎵

Allow me to give you the grand tour of our portable "camp" for this season: an airplane that totally isn't run-down and hasn't been sitting unused in a hangar for years! We will be using this airplane in our journey across the sims world, and it will be here that our contestants will spend their time between challenges!

Because of our tight quarters, everyone will be sleeping and eating all in one place! No more team separation here! That also means we no longer have a designated place for confessionals; they'll be done in the bathrooms, just like the good ol' outhouse from season one!

However, we were able to designate a room for our elimination ceremonies, of course! The door you see here is where our losing contestants will take the drop-of-shame, out of the airplane and onto wherever we're flying over! (Don't worry, TDS will make sure they'll land safely and have accommodations... maybe...)

Now, here's the real kicker of this plane: first class.

I did say that everyone would be sleeping together, but that isn't technically true.

Unique to this season, the team that wins a challenge will win a reward along with invincibility. That reward is first class. Complete with quality beds and all the entertainment to satisfy even the most brainrotted teenager, first class is the place to be!

The beds in economy class? Let's just say we assembled the bedframes ourselves and got the bedding from a dump... 🤭 There's also no room for games and such, so all the fun stuff is in first class!

So! If contestants want nice beds and all the entertainment they want, they will need to work for it. All they need to do is be on the winning team.

🎵 Everything to prove nothing’s in my way. I’ll get there one day! 🎵

Now, allow me to formally introduce you to our 18 new contestants!

(from left to right; top to bottom)

ALANNA CASTILLO (she/her) by @lyratea - A writer who wants an unforgettable adventure

AVERY BENNETT (she/her) by @hellogreta - An athletic girl who wants a break from her chaotic family and home life

BRENDAN TOWNSEND (he/him) by @sanitysims - A skilled cook who is nervous to compete on the show

CARSON FOSTER (he/him) by @changingplumbob - A Llamacorn Scout that was convinced to sign up for the show by his new girlfriend

ELIO ALVORETTER (they/he) by @paracosmic-sims - A generous and outgoing person who is representing themselves and their partners in the competition

ESPRESSO BEAN (she/her) by @riverofjazzsims - The twin sister of Season 2 contestant Coffee Bean; competing to get the Total Drama experience for herself

ESTRELLO PYRE (he/him) by @invisiblequeen - A long-time fan of Total Drama Sims who wants to win the show with kindness and friendship

JOSUE SUAREZ (he/him) by @simsinfinitylt - An outdoorsy guy who was unexpectedly signed up for the show by his abuela

LUCIAN BRIGHT (he/him) by @simstagramsomeone - A gaming streamer who is competing on the show to promote viewership on his channel

MAEVE BARGEN (she/her) by @aniraklova - A mischievous party girl who wants to build relationships with others, both friendships and rivalries

MARILYN MOORE (she/her) by @aliengirl - A spoiled popular girl who signed up for the show because she thought it was acting-related

MATTEO PERALTA (he/him) by @matchalovertrait - A musician who wants to make some new friends and get exposure for his band

MINATO MATSUDA (he/him) by @ravingsockmonkey - A loyal party guy who wants to meet new people

NITE CROWE (she/her) by @kissalopa - A nature and animal-loving half-alien who wants to test herself and try new things

RAYLAN K. RODRIGUEZ (he/him) by @bloomingkyras - A highly competitive boy who likes challenging himself; was inspired to sign up for the show by Season 2 winner Liana Morris

TOMIKO MORIYAMA (she/they) by @kari-sims - A staunch bug-lover who wants to travel the world; signed up for the show without her parent's permission

TOUMA REID BEASLEY (he/him) by @nakasumi-sims - A bubbly shrine caretaker who has an array of survival and outdoorsy skills

ZIGGY SKINT (he/him) by @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants - An outdoorsy boy who is relatively shy but has a strong moral compass

🎵 I WANNA BE, I WANNA BE, I WANNA BE FAMOUS! 🎵

So... We're Waiting on Teams Again?

Yep! Like last season, our contestants will remain teamless until the first challenge, but the unique part about this season is that the first challenge itself will be determining which teams contestants are placed on. And remember, there will be 3 TEAMS this season!

[the-squeege]

I’ve been a huge fan of Glass Scientists for… what’s it been like… 7 years? Something like that.. anyway I’m super happy to see it getting more recognition AND EVEN GETTING PUBLISHED??? I got volume 2 the other day and in reading the after words about Jasper I figured I HAD to draw him and talk about why he is SO important to me and why I’m so thankful he exists the way he does. There’s so much else I could say about this series and how much I adore it and how important it is to me but for here I’m just gonna focus on Jasper and why he is so incredibly important to me.

also please go read the glass scientists if you haven’t already it’s SO GOOD

It’s.. not something I talk a lot about but to anybody who pays attention to me on here, it’s probably pretty obvious that I’m trans. Or maybe not. My best friends didn’t know for like 2 years until I made a joke about taking my t shots lol.

When I first started reading glass scientists I didn’t know I was trans. And ultimately this isn’t really a story of how I found out, to be completely blunt it kinda just happened and I’m like yeah, I’m way more comfortable this way, this is just who I am.

After coming to terms with being trans, I found a lot of comfort in many of the characters in Glass Scientists. Over the years something really resonated with me more and more about Jasper.. I always appreciated how yeah, he’s a guy and he’s also soft! And sweet! And I know how much of a walking talking trans man stereotype I am but it felt so nice to see a male character acting and feeling the way I do, bad posture and all.

A few years later and the pages where Jasper talks about being trans drop and HOOH BOY

Everything in these few pages just felt so real and personal to me. Like I had lived this experience of coming out before, as it’s something I and many other trans folk have had to do over and over again. The way Jasper talks about his journey, the way Rachel sees him and the way that the story just continues on with Jasper just.. being who he is. Especially in a world with almost no transmasc representation in media???? This was MONUMENTAL for me. I didn’t really know it was possible to be so seen and so understood in a piece of media.

The real kicker was Rachel’s line about how Jasper must have been so uncomfortable. As someone who’s been lucky enough to have a lot of support, and a loving partner who has been nothing short of incredibly kind and patient and understanding, that line just. I dunno it makes me tear up a little (a lot) every time I read it. That understanding and acknowledgment in those few little words means the world to me.

I wanted to write this out and be a lil vulnerable here after reading how Sage was worried about their portrayal of Jasper. Idk if they’d ever see this, but I wanted to get it out there that as a trans man myself, Jasper is perfect. I’m so thankful that Jasper exists in the story as he does, and that so much love and care went into portraying him. I get the same feeling reading that scene with Rachel and Jasper as I’ve had being comforted by friends and family. It’s so personal and touching. Thank you for writing Jasper the way he is <3

[ilikelookingatthings]

A comment from Youtube in regards to Chloe and her Spiral that I wrote and liked.

Honestly, whats more frusterating is Chloe didn't even choose to side with hawkmoth just to get powers. Chloe had agreed, through reluctantly, that she couldn't be queen bee anymore when ladybug finally told her (after Sabrina went miraculer in defense of Chloe) about how since hawkmoth knew her identity that to avoid being targeted she couldn't be queen bee and that it could keep pollen safe as well. Only for chloe to be targeted directly anyways!

Hawkmoth akumatizing her parents and directly TELLING her that he chose to target them because of Chloe...implying he could do it again at any other time!...and then having no way to defend herself, she then went to contact ladybug via signal where she was literally cornered by the bad guys on a roof where they cut off the power to her signal...no way to defend herself or think ladybug would come to her rescue.

Where then hawkmoth, a villian who hardly ever comes out of hiding and a manipulator, dug into her insecurities after making her feel isolated, alone....just for the kicker being that he had pollen and all the other miraculousess! When Chloe had trusted ladybug to keep pollen safe! If Chloe had said no again she would have been left alone with a most likely angry adult man villian with no way to defend herself and he would have kept the miraculouses! He would have kept pollen because LB had failed to hold up her half of the bargain or protecting pollen! and while I understand thinking 'oh she wants to be queen bee again and is feeling entitled' but she had accepted not being queen bee in the miraculous episode before when she had rejected being akumatized and HAWKMOTH the manipulator who knows her even better than usual cuz she is a life long friend of Adrien's pointed her in that direction to point her stress and blame. Plus she still only agreed only after he freed her parents!

I understand Marinette and others in the show assuming Chloe was just being her entitled self but WE the audience literally WATCHED as she was literally cornered into that decision! Watched as she was sabotaged by a adult villian who knows her well!

Why do we brush off others getting manipulated into agreeing to the powers in their lowest moments but we don't give Chloe some leeway when she was literally put into a stage to be manipulated? is it cuz we can't blame it all on the magic? Even though the whole point is suppoused to be a metaphore for how people are more likely to agree to things when they feel isolated and alone from someone who seems to understand how they feel and is giving them a chance to validate their feelings. Not accidentally imply if your manipulated in real life you should still be blamed since you aren't magically compelled! Gabe didn't just take advantage of a separate situation and someone feeling low here...he SET Chloe up for failure so she wouldn't be able to resist siding with him this time.

Even more! Chloe is bad at communicating and feels like she messed up bad because she sided with hawkmoth and it caused all these side heros to be known!

We KNOW Chloe is aware that people don't like her. We know that being good was hard for Chloe even when she was trying...just for all that effort to go down the toilet by siding with hawkmoth! Not only do alot of fans ignore that Chloe was set up and manipulated but the fan will either agree that chloe was already bad or dismiss that chloe was just sabotaged by the creator later instead of seeing the logic to why she reacted the way she did.

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 10

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol and vomit & fluff and not edited!! word count: 2.6k

a/n: so obviously this is fiction and we don't actually know what Mat or Liana or his parents personalities are actually like but I took some liberty with Liana's personality. see end for more notes cause I don't want to spoil anything :) also sorry this is so late!! i went back to work and then had trouble with this chapter. i hope you all enjoy! likes, reblogs and comments feed my writing soul so let me know what you think <3

masterlist masterpost ask box

Liana texts you the day after your meet-up with Mat at the park, apologizing for getting angry with you and asking to go out for drinks. You don’t have it in you to still be upset with her for yelling at you because she was always the little sister you never had and just because you and Mat are having problems, doesn’t mean it should affect your relationship with her. Sometimes you wonder if you’re too quick to forgive and forget but you know that this is an exception. 

“It’s just weird, y’know?” Liana mutters, laying her head on the dirty bar table. She’s on her third drink and you’re close to cutting her off. “I’m going to be an aunt again, but I have this odd feeling about Calista. Like she’s not telling the entire truth.” 

You startle when she suddenly bolts upright and looks at you with wide eyes. 

“What if Mat’s not the father? That would make so much sense!” 

“How so?” you ask carefully. So far, you have successfully kept the fact that Calista is not pregnant a secret. It’s a secret you will have to take to your grave because you can’t let Marlee get in trouble when all she was doing was trying to help you. The truth might come out some day, but it’s something you will deal with then. 

“Mat is just being weird about the whole thing, like he’s hiding something,” she says. “Well, besides the fact that he hasn’t told mom or dad… but there’s something else.” She picks up her glass and drinks the last of her martini before signinally the bartender for a refill. 

“I think it’s time we switch you to Shirley Temples,” you say gently, asking the bartender for a couple glasses of water. 

She tries to wave you off when you push the water towards her but you give her the all too familiar look that you used to give her when you were both younger. 

“Fine, but if I’m getting cut off, so–” she stops talking abruptly, suddenly focused on something across the room. You turn and see a familiar face that makes your heart drop into your stomach because there’s no way she’s that stupid and you’re about to say something but Liana hops off her barstool and before you can stop her, she’s marching across the room to where Calista is sitting. She’s surrounded by a few other people, one of them being a guy you can’t quite place but definitely isn’t Mat, but the real kicker is the drink in her hand. 

You’re not in the business of accusing people but the way she’s laughing loudly and swaying a little in her seat makes you think that it’s not a non-alcoholic drink. You stare a little too long because when you snap out of your stupor, it’s to a loud shriek and shouting. Nearly tripping over your own feet, you rush over to find both Calista and Liana being held back by people and shouting at each other. You manage to drag Liana out of the hands of the person holding her back but you can’t help but stare at Calista in shock. You know she’s not pregnant but you didn’t think she was stupid enough to test her luck by getting drunk at a bar and possibly being seen by people who think she is.  

“I knew something was off about you,” Liana shouts at Calista who only now seems to realize that you are also in the room. Her face, which was red, pales considerably and her eyes widen when she looks at you.

“You are pregnant!” Liana shrieks and when you hear people gasping and the whispers start, you know you need to get Liana out of here now. 

With strength you didn’t realize you have, you drag her outside. She shakes you off as soon as you’re out the doors and promptly throws up all over your shoes. You don’t give yourself time to be grossed out, pulling your phone out of your pocket and calling the first person you think of.

“Hello?” Jax mumbles and you’re panicking enough that you can’t feel sorry that you woke him up. 

“I need you to pick us up,” you gasp and suddenly you’re sixteen again, calling him to pick you up from a party that you snuck out to. 

Jax doesn’t hesitate before agreeing and asking where you are. You rattle off the name of the bar and he says he’ll be there in ten minutes even though you know his apartment is at least twenty minutes away. You’ve never been so grateful to have him as a friend. 

“You didn’t call Mat, right?” Liana asks quietly and you look to see her sitting on the curb, looking absolutely miserable. Her eyes are filled with unspilled tears and you can only imagine what’s going on in her head. 

“No,” you tell her, sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her. “I called Jax.”

She nods and leans her head on your shoulder. You sit in silence for a few minutes before she speaks and her voice is quiet and shaky. 

“She was never pregnant, was she?”

Maybe it’s the natural motherly instinct in you, but you realize you can’t lie to her when she’s so upset.

“No,” you tell her and then she’s crying. You know that she’s drunk which makes her more emotionally vulnerable but you also know how sensitive she’s always been and it’s not a weakness. She wears her emotions on her sleeve and it’s only ever made her kinder and wiser than she should be for her age. 

“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you when Mat told me but I was so confused and upset that he was keeping it from us.” 

Then she’s crying even harder. “Oh god, what are we going to tell Mat?”

Truthfully, in the chaos of all this, you haven’t had the chance to think about what you’ll do about Mat. You know Liana won’t keep the truth from him and even if she did, word travels fast and he would eventually find out. You’re not certain he can mentally handle this, not with everything that’s going on between the two of you and his fragile relationship with Nora. He was just getting used to the fact that he has a daughter when Calista dropped the baby bomb on him and now to find out that it’s been a lie? You’ve no idea what he will do. 

“I don’t know,” you tell her honestly and sigh in relief when you see Jax’s car come into view. You stand up, helping her back to her feet just as Jax parks and gets out to help you. 

He looks worried but doesn’t say anything about yours or Liana’s appearance. Once you’re both settled in his car, he tells you he’s going to bring you both to his apartment for the night, obviously not feeling comfortable dropping you home when you’re upset and intoxicated. You know he’s right but all you want to do is curl up in your own bed. 

“Alright,” you agree eventually and he nods, starting the drive back to his place. You must nod off because the next thing you know, Jax is gently shaking your arm, waking you up. 

“I can’t carry you both in,” he jokes and you look back to see Liana completely knocked out. She grumbles when you wake her but she’s coherent enough to walk.

Jax’s boyfriend, Eli, already has their guestroom set up so you get Liana in the bed and then situate yourself on the air mattress. Jax leaves with a promise to check on you both throughout the night and if you weren’t so worried about Liana, you would tell him not to worry but you’re not taking any chances with her.

You lay awake for a while, not able to get the image of Calista drunk and with another guy out of your head. You don’t know how to tell Mat about it and Liana probably won’t either but eventually you drift off to sleep.

. . .

The next morning, you wake before Liana. Jax came in and checked on you both a few times before deciding that it was okay to leave you so you’re surprised to find him awake when you make your way out to the kitchen. It’s just past 8 o’clock but he’s cooking breakfast, singing off tune to Taylor Swift.

“Hey,” you say softly, sitting at the breakfast bar. You know he’s going to want an explanation because even though he let you off the hook last night, he’s going to want to know why Liana was crying and you had vomit on your shoes when he picked you up. 

“Morning,” he replies, placing a coffee in front of you and a piece of plain toast. You can feel his eyes watching you eat and once you’re done, he looks at you expectantly. 

“We saw Calista at the bar last night,” you explain. “Drunk and with some random guy.”

“Huh,” he says, so you look at him. His face is neutral, not showing if he’s surprised. 

“What does huh mean?”

“I mean, you did say something was off about her.” 

That was putting it lightly because although you couldn’t tell him the full story in fear that Marlee would lose her job, you did express your concerns about her without telling him that you knew she wasn’t pregnant. 

“Yeah,” you sigh. 

You hear shuffling from the guest room and look to see Liana walking into the kitchen. She plops down next to you and groans.

“I’m never drinking again,” she says and you can’t help but chuckle despite the circumstances. 

“Said every hungover person ever,” you say and a small smile crosses her face before she frowns, clearly remembering last night's events.

“I have to tell Mat,” she says. “It’s not fair to him that she lied.”

You sigh but nod in agreement. 

“I have to pick Nora up from my moms,” you tell her. “Are you okay to tell him yourself?” 

You really don’t want to be there when Mat finds out, not when you’re dealing with your own feelings towards him. 

“Yeah,” she says, eating the toast Jax offers her. 

You both finish your coffee and then Jax drives you to your apartment and you drop Liana home before picking Nora up. 

She’s ecstatic to see you, telling you everything she did with grandma from the moment you dropped her off until now picking her up. 

“And then, Millie hissed at me but Gizmo barked and scared her away,” she takes a deep breath before continuing her ramblings. “Can we get a kitten?” 

“You’re allergic, remember?” You remind her, and then a thought pops into your mind. Where did she see your mother’s neighbor's cat? “Where did you see Millie?” 

“Mrs. Turner invited us over for tea,” she tells you and then offhandedly adds: “she asked about you and Mat.” 

This doesn’t surprise you because Mrs. Edna Turner is quite the gossiper. You have trust in your mother that she didn’t tell Edna anything private but you’re still curious what exactly they talked about and you know that your child can be sneaky when she wants to be. 

“What did Mrs.Turner ask?” you ask, rolling your eyes when she sighs dramatically and puts her tablet away. 

“Well, first she asked if Mat was really my daddy and when Grandma said yes, she said ‘that poor child’,” she says, face scrunching up in confusion. “What does that mean?”

You make a mental note to talk to your mom about bringing Nora to any future tea parties at Mrs. Turner’s. 

“Nothing,” you assure her. “What else did she say?”

“She told grandma that if she were you, she wouldn’t move me to New York.” Her eyes narrow and she frowns. “I thought you said we weren’t moving to New York.”

“We’re not.”

“Then how come Mrs.Turner said that?” she demands.

“‘Cause Mrs. Turner doesn’t know how to mind her own business,” you mumble and then sigh, looking at Nora so she’s listening. “We’re not moving to New York, okay?” 

She nods and then smiles. “Can we go get ice cream?” 

“Yeah, we can go get ice cream,” you tell her even though it’s nearly dinner. 

Every once in awhile, ice cream for dinner is in order.

. . .

It’s past midnight when there’s a quiet knock on your door, and the only reason you’re awake to hear it is because Liana let you know she told Mat the truth about Calista. She told you that he had left the house as soon as she told him that morning and hadn’t returned home all day. You were expecting a text from him but your phone was silent and that worried you even more.

So, when you open the door to find Mat standing in front of you, red rimmed eyes and looking about two seconds away from crying, you don’t hesitate to let him inside. He slips past you and toes his shoes off before going straight for the couch and sitting down on it. You hesitate, but eventually settle down next to him. 

He’s resting his elbows on his knees, hiding his face in his hands and it takes you a minute to realize he’s crying silently. 

“Mat…” 

“I just - fuck, I thought that this was my second chance, you know? It wasn’t ideal but I would get to do all the things I missed with Nora,” he says, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I was such an idiot.”

It’s not a dig towards you but you still can’t shake the guilt you always feel when he talks about everything he didn’t get to see. Her first steps, first words, first day of kindergarten. All the things you can never get back. 

“It’s not your fault,” you say gently. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I should’ve,” he mumbles and before you can say anything, you hear soft footsteps coming down the hallway. You look to see Nora, rubbing her eyes sleepily and frowning when she sees Mat. 

When he realizes she’s there, he wipes his eyes hastily but it’s not fast enough because Nora walks over to him and deepens her frown.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly, reaching out and touching his cheek that’s still damp. 

Mat looks like he’s going to say that he’s fine but seems to change his mind last minute. He smiles sadly and shakes his head.

“Not really, peanut,” he tells her and the frown on her face deepens even more than you thought possible. 

“Mama says hugs make things better when you’re sad,” she says, sounding much wiser than a six-year-old should sound. Then, without asking, she climbs up onto his lap and wraps her tiny arms around his neck and hugs him. You can see the moment Mat breaks, hugging her back gently and it’s like all the tension drains from his body. 

You call it the “Nora Effect”, because her little hugs always seem to make you feel better.

“I’m so sorry, Nora,” you hear Mat whisper and you know he’s going to beat himself up over everything that’s happened with Calista - and Nora deserves his apologies, but your kid is one of a kind and you know that she will forgive him.

With time, if he proves himself, he’ll have a place in her life and you can’t wait to see what the future holds for them. 

authors notes: so calista is goneeeee FINALLY. she wasn't supposed to be here as long as she was but I got too carried away with that storyline and i'm glad it's over lol also, I had mixed thoughts about having mama be the one who told Mat that Calista was lying but I just couldn't get it right so I figured next best thing would be Liana! ps: millie is named after my own cat who i will put a pic of in the comments below

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @teapartydreams @alilstressyandlotdepressy @keiva1000 @hischiershoe @bellstwd

@alwaysclassyeagle @brrbrina @nonsensical-nonsence @love-like-woaah @swift-sos @barzygirl13 @ilyrafe

if you want to be added or taken off the list, please let me know :)

[the-whispers-of-death]

I've been meaning to write for Sugar Daddy!Price, so here it is. This is me caving into my personal desires.

Minors and Ageless Blogs Do Not Interact!! While this post is SFW, my blog isn't!!

Perhaps you're in need of more money because of your student debt, your inflated rent, or simply because you want to live a more lavish lifestyle. Either way, you find yourself one of those sugar baby websites, putting yourself out there for all potential sugar daddies to see.

It took you a few failed sugar daddies, who only wanted you for sex, to find John Price. He was a military man, which made you wary, but he seemed really sweet in his chats with you and the real kicker?

He didn't want you to have sex with him.

So despite your initial hesitance, you took up John's offer of going out to dinner with him to sort out all of the details of your arrangement. You put on the fanciest suit you owned, leaving the house and getting into the very nice car that John sent over to pick you up.

When you got to the restaurant, which was indeed as fancy as you thought it'd be, John was there to greet you. He hadn't yet gotten seated at the table, leading to him gently guiding you as you two followed the waiter to your table.

The hand he placed at the small of your back warmed you through your clothes, as if it was touching bare skin. His pressure was firm, but not too firm to feel as though he was the only one driving your footsteps forward. It was more protective than commanding.

"Here, let me get that for you," John murmured as he went to pull out your chair for you. Despite you both being men, he clearly seemed to still want to be a gentleman, pushing your chair in when you sat down.

He ordered the drinks, giving you the option of an alcoholic drink or a non-alcoholic one. As the waiter left you two to go over the menu after giving you your drinks, you found it was the perfect time to start the conversation.

You worried your lip briefly before speaking. "So you said you're not looking for sex, but what are you looking for?" you asked, curiosity dripping in your voice. "What does being your sugar baby entail?"

John smiled at your question, leaning back in his seat to look at you fully. "It doesn't entail much, I'm away on deployments most of the time. I just want someone to take out on dates and to be in my presence when I am home from deployments," he answered, blunt to the point where you were surprised by his honesty. "I don't expect you to only have one sugar daddy or even not have a boyfriend, though I will still pay you even if I'm on deployments, I just ask to have your attention when I am home."

"Too busy to date?" you teased, relishing in the way your comment made a mischievous glint sparkle in Price's blue eyes.

"I am too busy to date and most people don't want a partner who's away for months on end." John swiped a drop of wine off his bottom lip before it could fall, your eyes instinctively tracking the movement. He then refocused on you. "Sugar babies are much easier in that respect, I don't have to worry about someone not liking waiting for me because they're getting paid."

You took in his words, mulling it over in your mind as the waiter came back, taking your orders. You then glanced up at John, taking in his handsome features and the offer he was giving you.

It was so nice to know that even when he was going to be deployed, he'd still be sending you money. Part of you felt like you were cheating him out of a good service, but the part of you that craved the money couldn't care. He clearly didn't.

As the food arrived, you two continued to sort out everything, John writing things down for when he'd draw up a contract for you two to sign. The rest of the dinner went well and since he was paying you for this dinner, you offered to come back to his place despite the fact that there was no contract yet.

John thought it over a while before shaking his head and gently turning you down, kissing your forehead and placing you in the car. He bid you goodbye before closing the door, signaling to the chauffeur to drive you back home.

You had a feeling being John's sugar baby would be interesting to say the least.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)

[ticktockheartstop]

I just find it sooo interesting how Charles chooses to kiss Crystal after the most emotional day in Port Townsend so far. Let’s review:

1. Charles is clearly jealous of Monty and Edwin at the beginning of the episode: “You? Him? Spending a lot of time?” (Whether this is platonic or romantic jealousy, I’ll leave that up to you… though I definitely have thoughts.)

2. Edwin is really trying, for maybe the first time ever, to comfort Charles and get him to open up (because the Devlin case in the previous episode made him realize that Charles has major walls up). Edwin paying, even slightly, is definitely a new, potentially kinda scary thing for Charles.

3. Crystal is really concerned about Charles and not afraid to hide it, and it’s clearly irritating him. So much so that he nearly snaps at her — which he never does to her — and he stops himself, only to say, “As long as I’ve got my best mate and a case to solve, I’m good.” *pause* “I appreciate you. But leave it, yeah?” I just think it’s really significant that Charles didn’t say “as long as I’ve got you guys” or “my mates” or “you and my best mate.” Crystal was a hit of an afterthought, I think.

4. Charles tells Edwin off for not telling him about the Cat King, so much so that Edwin feels the need to say: “I don’t understand why you’re so angry.” Charles is clearly not in the best mood, not thrilled about the case they’re facing, and not thrilled about his “best mate” hiding things from him.

5. Charles nearly watches Crystal jump to her death, and it wasn’t even him who saved her. It was Niko. He looks the most devastated of all of them, and then gives her that big speech of how important it is for her to know that jumping isn’t worth it, because it’s not actually her mom, no matter what it feels like. And she basically tells him he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, because she knows her mom wants to see her.

6. Charles is so jealous, watching Monty flirt with Edwin as he’s stuck digging through a dumpster.

7. Let’s just be clear on one thing: Crystal was the first to “attack” the Night Nurse, even if she tried to do it psychically instead of physically, and no one bats an eye. But then, when Charles gets violent with her after she threatens to take Edwin back to hell and makes him relive all his trauma, all while basically teasing him, everyone FLIPS OUT about him attacking her. It’s honestly kind of unfair, and I’d lose it too if my friends looked at me like that.

8. Charles really loses it for the first time (maybe ever in front of Edwin). He feels like he can’t help Crystal with her problems, and he can’t get Edwin to be honest about what’s going on in his head, so he definitely can’t help him, and it’s heartbreaking. But the real kicker is that the only one who steps up to try to comfort him in that moment is Edwin, because the others are still stunned by his outburst. But Charles flinches away from his touch, because he can’t fathom how anyone could love him or want to be near him in that moment.

8. If that wasn’t enough, as they leave the lighthouse, Crystal is staring at him with major concern. For obvious reasons. But I relate to Charles in the way that that look would drive me CRAZY, and I think it’s so important that later, when offering an understanding ear, Edwin doesn’t let Charles see the scope of his concern for him. That’s why I think Charles responds more politely to his offer to talk to him if he ever needs it.

9. Slightly out of chronological order here, but before going into their respective rooms, Niko says, “I think I’m going to go do something where I don’t have to think now.” And Crystal says, “Yeah, I’m with you.” … and then she goes and makes out with Charles.

10. Idk, it just seems a bit self-destructive of Charles to go make out with a girl right after she says that, and to kiss her for the first time right after she says “I just want something that’s real.” After he spent the whole day being jealous about Edwin spending time with Monty, and keeping a meeting with the Cat King from him, and after Charles lost his mind (understandably). Like, this is not the time to make romantic decisions! This can only end with someone getting hurt.

[wafflesandd1ck]

Weird little thought I just had.

"You have to be a dominion, throne or above" Muriel when explaining to crowley why they can't access, Gabriel's file.

Crowley flips it open and says. "I wasn't always a demon, and they never change their passwords."

In the first scene, we get of the inside of crowleys flat, we see a giant throne and matching desk.

Here's a behind the scenes pic for a better view.

I don't think God/heaven only dropped crowley. I think they dropped his entire department into hell

I think aziraphale was right. "Rumor has it, in 6,000 years they will be shutting all of this down again"

Ok bare with me, this is gonna be such a sloppy tangle of thoughts.

I think God has no intention of trying to make humans and the Earth again.

Crowley, being the ever-present sass master, told God off and said something along the lines of "you need me to make galaxies. " try to twist God's arm.

God said "oh ok bro" and dropped all of it AND gave crowley snake eyes.

The idea of "you created the stars you are blind to, you can keep your thrown but you only have power because WE gave it to you" feels totally up heavens alley. Making crowley take the thrown he fought for and got cast down for would be such a stab.

He helped create billions of galaxies, and what does he have to show for it? A damn chair.

And not just any chair mind you.

Crowleys throne also has symbolism. Now, the prop itself is called a "king Solomon throne," and it sells for roughly 3 thousand dollars.

THATS CROWLEYS EXACT THRONE.

Here's the kicker, though. King Solomons throne is a real thing that's mentioned in the Hebrew bible.

"The throne was seen as belonging to David, or to God Himself. In 1 Chronicles 29:23, it says, "Solomon sat on the throne of the LORD as king"

HOWEVER!

The throne is described in 1 Kings 10:18 as being made of ivory overlaid with gold, with six steps, a round top, and two lions standing beside it. Meaning it looks like this:

This painting (not the official. Its digital rendition) is called 'the throne of solomon' by Raphael.

Remember how Crowley HATES the 14th century with a passion? Hated it so much that he tried to sleep through it? Ya wanna know what became insanely popular in the 14th century?

A "14th century throne of Solomon" refers to the concept of a royal throne heavily inspired by the biblical description of King Solomon's throne, which was often depicted in art and used as a symbol of power by monarchs in the 14th century, particularly in Europe, where the imagery of a richly decorated, elevated throne with a canopy became a common representation of royal authority; essentially, it was a symbolic representation of Solomon's throne rather than a literal artifact from that time period.

Crowleys. Throne. Was used by monarchs to stroke their own egos. Crowleys throne became so popular that the humans started using HIS throne as a symbol of unjust judgment and believing they deserve to judge others as they judge themselves. As crowley judged God for wanting to shut down the universe.

Idk. Maybe I'm overthinking it, but I think the symbolism here, intentional or not is really cool.

Crowley was stripped of every inch of his power and position and was hacked out of heaven like garbage. could you imagine your boss firing you and hating you so much, he threw out your desk and chair too?? That's next level, petty. Then your own boss, hundreds of years later. Dedicates an entire art and religious movement around rubbing your nose in your mistake?

Sorry, this is so wordy and scrambled. I just wanted to share it.

[mywitchyblog]

I just wanted to say your takes on age and shifting have been really helping me. I didn't have the opportunity to enjoy my teenage years and I feel like everything is falling apart in my adult life, so I really want to age myself down and experience life as a teen again. However, tiktok constantly made me feel like a creep and I was even starting to doubt myself and my motivations, which is crazy. So thank you for standing your ground and having our back lol and stay away from shiftok yall

AS.YOU.FUCKING.SHOULD.

Girl, keeping your distance from ShiftTok? Absolutely the right call. That place is less of a community and more of a cult with a superiority complex, stuffed with self-appointed “moral guardians” who’d rather police everyone’s shifting practices than actually understand a damn thing about shifting itself 💅. They’re too busy gatekeeping, throwing their tired opinions around, and stirring up drama to realize just how hypocritical they look. Chile, the irony is thick enough to choke on, and trust, we see it 👀.

And don’t even get me started on the anti-age-change crew. These people couldn’t argue their way out of a paper bag without leaning on the same three tired-as-hell logical fallacies, dragging them out every time to keep shifters in check without an ounce of actual understanding or empathy.

Ad Hominem – This is anti-age changers’ go-to move when they’re out of actual arguments. They skip right over any real discussion and dive into calling people “pedo” or “creep” just to shut them up. Rather than taking the time to understand why someone might genuinely want to experience being younger again, they grab for the ugliest insults they can think of and throw them like confetti 🎉… only it’s confetti made of trash 💀. Example: A shifter explains, “I age down in my Desired Reality because I had a tough youth and want to relive a better version of it. Plus, I want to experience a healthy, innocent romance from my teenage years.” But instead of even thinking about the idea that there might be something healing and meaningful in that, here comes an anti-age changer with: “If you want to age down to date, you’re a predator—plain and simple.” Here’s the kicker: these critics don’t care about the reasons. They’ll weaponize shame to make shifters look like villains, ignoring the fact that not everyone who age-shifts and dates does it for predatory reasons. Many want to experience that sweet, teenage love they didn’t get in this reality, to relive the simpler emotions of that time without adult complications. But the anti’s? They’d rather throw accusations than try to understand even a sliver of the truth. They’re using the “pedo” card because they know it’ll silence some people, and honey, it’s a sad attempt at control through fear 🙄.

Straw Man Fallacy – Here’s where things get especially messy 🥴. Instead of listening to what you’re actually saying, they twist it into something completely off-base, creating a fake argument to attack. They don’t want to engage with your actual reasons; they’d rather paint you as something you’re not so they can feel good about their so-called “moral high ground.” 🙄Example: Imagine a shifter saying, “I age down because I missed out on a carefree youth and want to date someone my age in that reality. I want to experience young love in a non-sexual, simple way.” The anti immediately twists this into, “Oh, so you’re saying you’re an adult wanting to act like a teenager to date kids? That’s sick.” See the problem? They’re creating a whole new argument based on something you never said. This shifter just wants a clean, innocent experience of being young again, complete with those little flutters and first dates that only make sense at that age. Some shifters may even explore young relationships with some intimacy, but it’s coming from a place of reliving a time they missed—not about attraction to minors or anything predatory. These critics twist the intention, making it sound like a fetish when it’s about pure curiosity, nostalgia, or healing. They’ve crafted their own horror story and are trying to pin it on you 👑, and honestly? It’s lazy, transparent, and completely off the mark.

Hasty Generalization – This is when anti-age changers pull out the big, sloppy brush and slap the same, tired accusation onto every age-changing shifter. Because they’ve heard one example of someone age-shifting for sketchy reasons, they assume everyone who does it must have some secret, shady agenda. Girl, the logic isn’t even there 🤦‍♀️.Example: Anti-age changers will say, “Oh, I heard about this one person who aged down to act out some weird fantasy, so clearly all shifters who age down to date are predators.”This is their way of weaponizing a single, extreme case to invalidate every other shifter’s unique, personal reasons. There are countless reasons people age down and engage in romance, and most have nothing to do with predatory behavior. Imagine someone who wants to experience a first crush all over again, or who never got a chance to date as a teen and just wants that innocent thrill of hand-holding and kissing at a school dance 🕺💃. Some might even explore sexual intimacy because, for them, it’s about curiosity and filling in experiences they missed—not some twisted attraction.Let’s get real: most age-changing shifters just want to feel what it’s like to be young again, to make memories that heal, to have those butterflies and firsts they missed out on. The antis are so obsessed with scandalizing that they can’t imagine a reality where someone wants to age down without any creepy motives. This broad-strokes accusation is not only unfair; it’s lazy as hell. It paints every age-changing shifter with the same brush, and it does nothing but create stigma and misinformation. Like… maybe sit down and breathe for a second instead of trying to stir up a scandal? 😒

Here’s the reality: these fallacies are tools they use to twist, shame, and silence. They’re not here to have a real conversation about why someone might age-shift or date in that reality, or to understand that those desires can come from totally normal, even therapeutic places. They’re here to make it sound twisted, full stop.

The next time they pull out these tired arguments, just remember: they’re not about facts, they’re about control. They use moral panic as a blunt weapon, hoping people won’t look closer and see right through their paper-thin accusations. Keep doing you, stay fierce 🔥, and don’t let their fallacies dull your shine.

[bri-cheeses]

Fall Break — Part 1

Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 643 | Part 1 of 3 | We’re finally back after a very long and much needed break :) | Have Barty and his mom being sweet | Btw this was definitely supposed to be finished last week but (ironically) Thanksgiving got in the way |

-

Barty dropped his bags by the door, kicking his shoes off. It felt good to be back on familiar territory, in this place where he had spent all his Thanksgivings since he was a young child. The floorboards still creaked the same, the door opened with the same amount of slight resistance, and his shoes still slotted easily onto the rack just like they had when he was a kid. For that reason, and perhaps that reason only, he would never not be grateful that his mom had gotten the house in the divorce. Because despite all the subpar memories Barty had in this house, he couldn’t imagine not getting to come back here for fall break.

But even the nostalgia of seeing the old house again paled in comparison to his mother’s beaming face when she rounded the corner to see Barty standing on the welcome mat, still in his coat as she wrapped him in a crushing hug.

“Hey, Mom,” Barty squeaked out. His smile hurt his face, it was so wide.

His mom pulled back, giving him the chance to see her beautiful dimples and shining eyes. “Welcome home, Barty.”

Barty couldn’t say anything for a bit. His throat had closen up, because he still remembered how things had been around this time last year, with his dad fluctuating between icy cold silence and floor-shaking bouts of yelling that had his mom aging another year everyday. To have her looking so young and happy once more was really all that Barty had hoped for when his father had finally moved out, and so he could do nothing but stand there with her like that for a second or two, just soaking up being in each others presence once again.

“Dear me,” his mom exclaimed, interrupting the moment, “I almost forgot that I had hot cocoa on the stove!” She turned before he could get more than a confused noise out of his throat, but she didn’t leave without tangling her hand in Barty’s to pull him down the short hallway and into the kitchen. “Take a seat, take a seat,” she said, making sure he was comfortable before making a beeline for the oven. There, a small metal pot sat, overflowing with dark brown liquid that had clearly been boiling over for some time now. Barty’s laugh bubbled up out of him before he could stop it.

“Oh hush, you,” his mother teased, but there was no heat behind it. “You better be nice to me, or I’m not going to let you have any.”

“You wouldn’t,” Barty responded. His cheeks were beginning to ache from smiling so much, which he really didn’t mind, if he was being honest.

His mom waved a hand at him but didn’t argue, too busy fluttering around the kitchen and pulling out two mugs to pour the hot chocolate in. Barty watched on in amused silence as she tried in vain to not spill anything before eventually giving up and ladling it out into the cups, the cup scraping across the counter as she slid it to him. She chattered away all the while, asking him about everything from how his studies were going to how Regulus was faring in such a different environment compared to his old, private college. Barty responded easily, comfortable from his perch on the counter stool while he filled his mom in on everything new with his life.

Barty had just finished talking about how Regulus seemed to be doing just fine with the adjustment, considering he was now talking to James Potter of all people, and was busy picking up his drink to take another sip (because it was actually quite delicious, despite his earlier misgivings) when she hit him with the real kicker.

“Okay, okay, enough about Regulus’s love life–what about yours?”

Barty almost dropped the mug.

-

(Part 2 is here)

[redvexillum]

I had a fun time writing this. This is rated 18+ because of s♡xual theme, but no explicit s♡xual acts. This is honestly more under the category of domestic fluff. Also, this story is dedicated to my good friend Ms. 🍑. I hope this brings a smile to your face as much as it did for me when I was writing this.

Taking a deep breath, you felt a wave of cold prickling across your skin, goosebumps rising as you fidgeted in your new outfit. The leather bodice hugged you far too tightly, compressing your ribs to the point that each breath felt like a struggle against a corset designed by someone with a deep grudge against lungs.  

And then there was the devilish skirt – short and also leather, made with an obnoxiously squeaky sound every time you so much as shifted. If felt less like you were about to engage in some power play and more like you were auditioning for the world’s worst dominatrix sitcom.  

But the real kicker – the pièce de résistance - was the bedazzled g-string. It dug into places that no undergarment should ever go, each rhinestone a tiny stab to your asshole, snuffing out any lingering embers of arousal that had somehow survived the 45 minutes it took you to squeeze into this torturous ensemble.  

You loved Vox, you really did. So, when he suggested flipping the script and having you take charge in the bedroom for once, your instinct to please have kicked in. Sure, you’d agreed, even though the idea made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights.  

Now, standing here in front of him where he was handcuffed to the bedpost and wearing only his navy-blue boxers, the reality was setting in.  

Vox’s eyes darkened, a glint of mischief flickering across them as he stretched, his grin sharp like a predator who knew exactly how much he was getting to you. “Oh, baby doll,” he purred, his voice a low rumble that sent another shiver straight down your spine. “You look absolutely delicious.” 

Your eyes flicked down, and there it was – a very noticeable bulge pressing against the front of his boxers, taunting you. The hot coil of anticipation twisted in your gut, making it incredibly difficult to focus on anything other than the sinful things you could do if you just crawled onto the bed, dragged your tongue down his body, and begged him to take control. 

But no. That wasn’t the plan today. He wanted you to dominate him, to take charge, and your brain struggled to catch up with this unfamiliar script.  

“Okay,” you muttered to yourself, trying to find your inner femme fatale amidst the squeaking leather and ass-torturing rhinestones.  

The riding crop felt all wrong in your hand, like a foreign object you had no business wielding. You gripped the handle a little too tightly, trying to ease the thick lump in your throat with a big gulp. I can do this, you told yourself. You’d watched enough of Valentino’s female domination films to have some idea of how this worked. You would pull it off, and Vox would no doubt be proud – maybe even call you his “good little girl.” The thought sent a jolt of excitement through you, spurring on a shaky surge of confidence.  

Straightening your shoulders and puffing out your chest, you flashed him a grin, doing your best to exude dominance. His cock twitched in response, his body language eager and full of anticipation, as if he were already a step ahead of you, waiting for your next move.  

You took the first step toward him.  

Sqquueek.  

The high-pitched, flatulent sound was loud enough to cut through the mood like a needle scratching across a vinyl record. Your confidence shattered instantly, replaced by a mortifying rush of heat spreading across your cheeks. Your head spun with embarrassment, and the bedazzled g-string – still wedged uncomfortably in a place it had no business being – seemed to mock you. You could not wait to burn the damn thing.  

“T-that was the skirt,” you stammered, your voice barely audible over the thrum of your mortification.  

Vox blinked once, then snorted, his chuckle breaking the tension. “It’s okay, baby,” he purred, his eyes dark and half-lidded with desire. “Come to me,” 

His voice, sultry and smooth, almost helped you forget the humiliating noise. Almost. You took another step toward him, trying to recapture some semblance of control.  

Squeak-pft. Squeak-pft. Squeak-pft.  

Every step brought a new symphony of unsexy sounds, and the bed still felt miles away. Your cheeks were burning, and frustration bubbled beneath your skin as the ridiculousness of the situation settled in. That was it. You couldn’t take it anymore. With a growl of frustration, you tore the skirt off and tossed it to the floor like it was your mortal enemy.  

No more noise. Thank God. 

Glancing up, you were relieved to see that Vox’s erection had remained steadfast despite the parade of wardrobe malfunctions. His gaze had dropped to your new underwear, and you caught the hungry gleam in his eyes.  

Unfortunately, that only reminded you of the bedazzled hell you were currently wearing. You could feel the tacky gems digging into your skin, each one like a tiny bug bite against the tight ring of your ass. But you told yourself it wouldn’t last long. Soon, the torture device would come off, and you’d be free.  

With renewed determination, you took another step, then another, until your knees dipped into the edge of the bed. You looked up at Vox through your lashes, attempting to channel every ounce of seduction you could muster. “Have you been a ...” you began, your voice trembling and unsure, “a b-bad boy?” The words stumbled out awkwardly, your ears burning with embarrassment as you crawled up the length of his body.  

Settling yourself over his knees, you tried to steady your breathing. You could do this. Even if it was painfully clear that dirty talk was usually his territory.  

You were immensely grateful that Vox didn’t immediately burst into laughter or mock you for your awkwardness. Instead, he stayed in his character, his voice a deep, sultry purr. “Yes, mistress,” he replied, pressing his knee against your core.  

Under different circumstances, the pressure might have felt wonderful, but the bedazzled g-string was currently acting like a tiny dagger to your poor, sensitive backside. You grimaced but tried to pass it off as a grin, attempting to keep the mood alive despite the growing discomfort.  

Your brain scrambled to figure out the next move. What was it those dominatrixes did in Valentino’s production? Oh, right – punishment. A memory of a particularly intense scene flashed through your mind. You took a breath, straightened your shoulders, and declared, “Well, bad boys needs to be punished!” Trying to sound authoritative, you clumsily reached down and grabbed Vox’s balls.  

His eyes widened in surprise as he let out an involuntary grunt. “Oh,” he muttered, glancing down at your hand before looking back up at you, a mix of confusion and amusement flickering across his face. “Uh, baby, maybe-” 

You didn’t let him finish. You were recalling how the female dominatrix in the video had squeezed her partner’s balls and how he had moaned in ecstasy. His dick had stayed hard the whole time, and you were sure Vox would enjoy it too if you did it right. So, with a grin that was equal parts nervous and determined, you squeezed.  

Hard.  

Vox’s reaction was immediate and not what you expected. His whole body jolted, his abs clenching so tightly that his muscles rippled beneath his skin. His wrists strained against the cuffs as he let out a pained cry, “HOLY FU – AH, FUCK! HERTZ! SHIT! NO! WATTS?!” 

Wait...what? That wasn’t supposed to happen, right? 

Panicking, you squeezed harder, your fingers digging into the fleshy mass, trying to mimic the firmness from that scene in the video. But something felt wrong. Very wrong. 

“AHHH! SAFE WORD! WHAT’S THE – HAH! FU – GAH!” Vox’s TV head tilted back, and you heard the sound of metal hitting wood. Sparks of blue electricity fizzled from his head as his body convulsed slightly beneath you.  

Oh, God… Oh, God… You released his balls like they were on fire, your hand snapping away as quickly as possible. “D-did you mean ‘Signal?’” you asked, voice trembling. The safe word. You had come up with it together, though you never imagined you’d hear it used quite like this.  

Vox didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he groaned, his body trying to curl into itself. His chest heaved, and a small, pitiful whimper escaped his lips as he shifted onto his side, trembling from the aftershocks of...well...perhaps yousqueezing him too hard. 

You knelt there, frozen in horror. Your mind raced, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Did I break him?

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered under your breath, panic setting in as you quickly fumbled to undo the cuffs around Vox’s wrists. His small, pitiful whimpers didn’t help the crushing guilt that now weighed on your chest.  

“You... I think my balls are crushed,” he squeaked, voice higher than you’d ever heard it before, his eyes tightly shut in what you could only describe as pure unfiltered agony.  

Guilt slammed into you like a freight train. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling his prone figure into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, honey. Oh no, oh no,” you babbled, rubbing his shoulders and back frantically as if you could somehow massage the pain away. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you kept repeating, as though the words alone could undo the damage.  

Once his hands were free, they immediately shot down his groin, cupping himself protectively. It took several long, agonizing minutes before you managed to coax him out of the fetal position. Needless to say, any hopes of sexy time had evaporated faster than your confidence had earlier.  

Eventually, after what felt like a small eternity, Vox was able to sit up again, though the pain was still evident on his face. His expression softened as he looked at you, clearly doing his best to comfort you, even though you were the one who had accidentally tried to neuter him. “Voxflix and chill?” he asked, offering a small, tentative smile, his eyes lacking any trace of anger or resentment.  

Soon enough, you found yourself curled up next to him, his back resting against the bed’s headboard, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other hand holding an ice pack to his groin. The sight of him icing his poor abused balls gnawed at your conscience, but Vox, ever the charmer, rubbed your shoulder with his free hand, sensing your guilt.  

“Hey, at least we can put ball-squeezing on the no list,” he teased lightly, his tone playful.  

You bit your lip, still feeling terrible, and looked up at him with wide, apologetic eyes. “Are you really going to be okay?” you asked, your voice soft, a small pout tugging at your lips.  

Vox leaned down and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to your forehead. “If I were still alive, I’d say my lineage would’ve ended today,” he smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “But luckily, we’re in hell, and my balls will probably recover in a couple of hours.” He shrugged with a dramatic sigh, settling back against the pillows. “Perfect time for us to watch Voxtek’s latest series, ‘Yeah, I Fucked your Mom, So What?’” 

You groaned inwardly as the familiar blue Voxflix logo appeared on the screen, followed by the show’s title. Vox had been trying to get you to watch his latest spin-off series for weeks, and, if you were being honest, you’d been avoiding it ever since you barely survived ‘Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?’ which had been...not your cup of tea.  

“Voxflix and Chill, huh?” you mused, a mischievous glint in your eye as your fingers slowly traced the waistband of his underwear.  

Vox smirked, his claws gently grazing the curve of your bare arm, sending a shiver down your spine. He trailed his fingers up to your shoulder before leaning in close. “Once my balls recovered,” he growled, his voice deep and sensual, “I’ll expect a do-over, baby doll.” 

Excitement bloomed in your chest, and you nodded eagerly, already imagining all the possibilities. You’d let Vox take the lead next time, no doubt about it. With that in mind, you settled back against him as he started the first episode of the show.  

Somehow, one episode turned into four...and then eight. Hours passed, the plot getting more ridiculous with each episode, but you were somehow absolutely enraptured. The plot was so bad, yet it was strangely good?  

You had long since traded the uncomfortable leather and bedazzled nightmare for the cozy safety of an oversized, baggy t-shirt and your comfiest underwear. Armed with a bowl of popcorn and two glasses of beer, you padded back to the bed and plopped down beside Vox, the weight of the day slowly dissolving into the background.  

“What did I miss?” you asked, handing him the popcorn as you settled in, tucking your legs under the blanket.  

Vox took a handful of popcorn, grinning at you before answering, “Well, apparently the cousin, Giacomo, was actually fucking the mom while disguised as Francesca.” 

Your eyes widened in shock as you handed him a beer. “What? No!” you gasped, you jaw dropping. “He was Francesca the whole time? That’s bonkers!” 

Vox chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. You were completely sucked into the tangled web of the ridiculous soap opera plot, and, somehow, two whole seasons flew by in a blur of melodrama and absurd twists.  

What had started as just something to pass the time became a full-on binge session. There were moments of laughter, gasps of disbelief, and, yes, even a few tears (on your part) as you found yourself surprisingly invested in the wild antics of the show.  

Meanwhile, Vox, ever the multitasker, had his legs intertwined with yours beneath the blankets. His claws gently carded through your hair, a soothing rhythm that made you feel warm and cozy. You couldn’t help but snuggle a little closer, the comfort of his presence wrapping around you like a favourite blanket.  

The ice pack had been long forgotten, tossed to the side without a second thought. The earlier mishap with his balls was a distant memory, overshadowed by the relaxed intimacy that had bloomed between you two.  

You let out a happy sigh, resting your head on his chest. His heart thrummed steadily beneath your ear, and you felt a small smile tug at your lips.  

“You know,” you murmured, nuzzling closer to his chest, “I didn’t think I’d enjoy this show, but... I guess Voxflix and Chill isn’t so bad after all.” 

Vox smirked, looking down at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “I told you, baby. My shows always have a way of drawing you in” He paused, his voice dropping into a teasing purr. “And don’t worry, doll. We’ll still have that do-over...with fewer casualties tomorrow....because,” his eyes lit up, and his lips stretched to a wide smile, “it’s time for the next season!” 

You laughed at his enthusiasm. Snuggling closer to him, you felt perfectly at peace. “I’m looking forward to it,” you whispered, feeling his fingers lightly trace the outline of your arm, his touch sending a pleasant warmth through your body.  

And as the opening theme song of the next episode started to play, you realized that, out of all the ways you could’ve spent the evening, this – curled up beside Vox, sharing popcorn and laughter – was your favourite kind of night.  

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[merwgue]

Let’s talk about the impossible feat of loving Nesta while simultaneously shipping Nessian. Yes, it’s possible to admire Nesta’s fierce, complex, and deeply troubled character, but it becomes a mental gymnastics routine when people insist on pairing her with Cassian, the very character who consistently undermines her healing and mental health.

There’s a fundamental issue here: Nesta is on a self-destructive spiral for the majority of her arc in A Court of Silver Flames, and Cassian, the supposed "love interest," isn’t helping—he’s actually worsening the situation. Cassian doesn’t just harm Nesta emotionally; he’s also not great for himself, which turns this into the classic case of two people who are absolutely not ready for a relationship but are shoved into one for the sake of drama, attraction, or—let’s face it—trauma-bonding. So let’s get into why loving Nesta means rejecting the idea of Nessian, because at its core, this relationship is toxic.

Cassian's Actions: Love or Harm?

In what world is it okay for a man to force a woman into an intervention-style imprisonment because she’s hurting? That’s not love; that’s coercion. The moment Rhysand, Feyre, and Cassian decide to lock Nesta up in the House of Wind without any real professional help is the moment you realize how warped their perception of "helping" is. Cassian actively participates in this isolation, and no matter how it’s spun, that’s not caring for someone’s well-being—that’s control. Realistically speaking, throwing someone with severe PTSD, depression, and a ton of guilt into a glorified prison doesn’t scream "let’s heal together"; it screams "I don’t want to deal with your pain, so I’ll just shove you into a corner."

The thing with Cassian is that he keeps asserting dominance over Nesta under the guise of tough love, which, at best, is misguided and, at worst, is abusive. There’s emotional manipulation here that people often overlook. He’s constantly undermining her boundaries, trying to force her into situations she’s clearly not ready for. This isn’t about "challenging her to be better"—this is about someone refusing to accept where she is in her emotional journey and trying to rush her into healing on his timeline.

Relationships Aren't a Band-Aid for Self-Destruction

You can’t ship someone who is in the throes of their own personal turmoil into a romantic relationship and expect everything to work out. It’s not the 90s where "love heals all wounds" was a plausible relationship arc. Let’s get real: both Cassian and Nesta are deeply flawed, emotionally scarred people who are not in a position to bring out the best in each other. Cassian has his own guilt, his own trauma, and his own unresolved issues, which means that he is self-destructing in his own way too. How is a relationship built on two crumbling foundations supposed to thrive?

There’s this common trope that "relationships make people better." And sure, sometimes that’s true. The right partnership can encourage personal growth, offer support, and provide a stable ground for emotional healing. But here’s the kicker: that only works if both parties are in a place to actively support one another. Cassian and Nesta are both drowning in their own emotional baggage, and what happens when two people are drowning? They pull each other down.

It’s Not the Right Time—Or Maybe It’s Just Not Right

Let’s entertain the idea for a moment that Cassian and Nesta could be meant to be. Maybe, in another universe, under different circumstances, their dynamic could work. But in this current context, it's not just that it's not the right time—it's that Cassian is fundamentally bad for Nesta's mental health. Relationships take effort, mutual respect, and understanding. What Cassian offers is a kind of pseudo-support that's wrapped up in his own unresolved issues. He’s often dismissive of Nesta’s pain, or worse, he actively exacerbates it by belittling her coping mechanisms (however flawed they may be).

Cassian pushes her physically and emotionally when she’s clearly not in a place to handle it. This isn’t the "right person, wrong time" situation—it’s the "this relationship is unhealthy for both people" situation. To claim they’re good for each other is to completely disregard the damage they do to one another.

Cassian's Behavior: Emotional Manipulation or Love?

Cassian fans often try to justify his actions by claiming he’s trying to help Nesta get out of her destructive cycle, but let’s be real here: a lot of what he does is emotional manipulation. Cassian constantly tries to mold Nesta into the person he thinks she should be, without giving her the space to figure out who she actually is. Yes, Nesta is angry, grieving, and hurting, but instead of letting her process that pain on her own terms, Cassian’s solution is to insert himself into her healing journey as if he’s the one with the answer to all her problems.

The power dynamics here are wildly skewed. Nesta is at her most vulnerable, and Cassian—who should recognize that and proceed with caution—does the exact opposite. He forces her into situations she’s not ready for, whether it’s physical training or emotionally confronting things she hasn’t yet processed. This kind of forced "healing" is toxic. It's not love; it's domination.

Abuse Isn’t Just Physical—It’s Mental and Emotional Too

It’s easy to point out physical abuse and say "that’s wrong," but what people fail to recognize is that emotional and mental abuse are just as damaging. Cassian’s emotional manipulation—his constant pushing, his refusal to respect Nesta’s boundaries, his belief that he knows what’s best for her—are all forms of emotional abuse. He might not physically hurt her, but the way he chips away at her mental and emotional health is just as harmful.

Nesta deserves a partner who supports her healing in a way that’s compassionate and understanding—not someone who forces her into situations she’s not ready for because he thinks it’s the best course of action. Cassian, for all his good intentions, isn’t that partner. At least, not now, and maybe not ever.

Conclusion: You Can’t Love Nesta and Ship Nessian

Here’s the bottom line: you can’t claim to love Nesta while simultaneously shipping her with a man who actively harms her, emotionally manipulates her, and refuses to respect her boundaries. If you love Nesta, you want her to heal, to thrive, to grow—on her own terms. Cassian, in his current state, doesn’t support that growth. In fact, he stunts it. So no, you can’t love Nesta and ship Nessian at the same time. To do so is to fundamentally misunderstand what it means to love someone like Nesta: fiercely, without conditions, and with a respect for her autonomy.

Cassian might be good for someone else, or maybe even for Nesta in a different life. But in this one? He’s not the hero of her story—he’s the obstacle.

[lakesbian]

you know what. im going to follow my heart so we can move on with the wormread and just copy-paste what i said about danny in chapter 6.9 on discord with some minimal editing because it's not pretty but the general thesis is there and i don't feel like making it into proper paragraph form

okay so the thing thats fucking killing me abotu 6.9 is that danny is literally like. he tries to call taylor a nickname only her mom called her once he realizes he's fucked up bad and is trying to recover whichi s insane [because it's obviously going to be upsetting to her by reminding her of her mom being gone, and it also indicates that his fall-back for something going wrong w/ taylor is to try to appeal to her by poorly copying someone else's parenting style] and he also randomly tells her about how her mom wanted to move her a grade ahead but he wanted her to stay in school with emma to make her happy. and he's been Stewing On That despite knowing it's objectively not his fault (and i am reminded of how in his interlude he spends time Stewing about how he wishes annette were there to give advice) and he also cops up to the fact that that the whole thing about "being her parent and not her ally" (<- demented thing to say for obvious reasons) wherein he locks her in a room and demands emotional vulnerability from her even as she's becoming visibly upset & compares his actions to emma's was her grandmother's idea and then. here's the real kicker. once lisa shows up and prepares to take taylor away there are any number of actions a parent confident that they're doing the right thing for their child would normally do in response--not, like, Good actions, but things that a parent would be likely to pull. threatening to call the cops bc blah blah you're my daughter, wanting to speak to lisa's parents, any form of power move pulled over these two teenage girls but instead he speaks to lisa like she's an equal authority over taylor and seriously asks if she's "okay with this" (i should remind you of the concussion chapter where lisa is doing some insane power move shit over taylors dad covertly establishing herself as more competent at caring 4 her than him lmao) which is just like. it's so glaringly wildly obvious how this guy has Zero confidence in himself as a parent so he generally does nothing and then while he's doing nothing he oscillates btwn rationalizing it to himself as allowing her privacy/dignity, getting angry at himself/calling himself a coward, or getting mad at TAYLOR and blaming HER for not being the one to take initiation to be vulnerable with him and, like. he literally does make functional decisions prior to this for a bit! he's good and supportive at the meeting with the school board about the bullying!!! but it doesn't immediately solve literal years of distance between them that have led to taylor having to take decisionmaking for her wellbeing entirely into her own hands w/o being able to tell him about it [& having literally no route for human connection or support other than the undersiders] so he just completely crumbles on his own calls and seeks out/takes completely shit advice from taylor's grandma instead so i very much think what's insinuated here is like. especially given that he knows he has anger issues and never wants to Be Scary with them. he might have frequently leaned on annette for parenting decisions before she died and/or is really fucking haunted by the time(s) he didn't listen to her and it went wrong and now that she's gone he's just kinda floundering and trying to toss the baton for parental decisionmaking onto anyone else, including, at one point, the literal teenage girl who shows up to help taylor run away from his house. insane ! also. thinking about how taylor says her grandma (maternal) never liked her dad. that man would literally rather talk to the mother of his dead wife, who hates him, and take her advice than go 'yeah ithink im gonna keep using my own judgement for compassion towards my daughter' fucking worst anyones ever done it this guy has the spine of a twizzler it's great

...and then doing All That & severely triggering taylor's trauma from the bullying in the process completely shatters any trust he had built with her, catalyzing her realization that she wants to be able to have meaningful relationships with the undersiders & leading to her running away to leave with them! i don't think anyone can say for sure whether or not danny Not doing this would have led to taylor turning the undersiders in before realizing that she would regret it, but oh fucking boy does he make SURE she doesn't go thru with it. and it would be bad to call the cops on a bunch of systematically neglected traumatized teenagers regardless of how much crime they're doing so you know what maybe we should actually thank danny for his Shit Parenting stopping taylor from being a narc