#everyone should have ready access to all of the information that they need to make fully informed choices on everything. for free. forever.

[theegemini92]

I don’t know how people cannot do the maths… even in real life our cultures and way of life SHAPE our DNA. Just because I marry an Italian it doesn’t mean I am one. when I eat pasta and bread I put on so much weight but when I eat my local food I loose weight. DNA and environment.

Under a similar post calling feyre out for her cultural appropriation this was an interesting answer I got ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

It’s as if all her bad actions are glossed over due to her “saving prythian” when the first one Tamlin saved prythian not her. She just saved Tamlin. She just came in trying to change things because her martyr comeplex cannot handle rejection. Everyone should bend over for her because she “saved” them.

Learning the culture is different from taking time off. While she took time off she could’ve been learn reading, making friends but no She had time for a baby in that short span and look what consequences she got from lack of knowledge and appropriation? Nesta in her short time made female friends outside the IC, she didn’t need time for that. When amren was teaching Nesta about politics, feyre left the scene she clearly showed uninterest. She wanted a crown no one respects and doesn’t want to Know the rules? To her Tamlin kept info now the ic, her Rhys is doing the same thing. If you are made president today because you want it people will suffer because you dont know politics. You have to learn. Tamlin and all the hl are close to their people. Tamlin mingles with his soldiers and house servants everyday. He doesn’t coop himself up. Rhys had An extensive education. No one is diminishing her saving the world. But her proximity to Rhys means she doesn’t have to learn SHE DOESNT HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT which on her part isn’t right. She thinks she’s a MALE and they have the power so she does now.

I know this is not book related but: Rhysand to me is a sex maniac and has never been with an Illyrian female before, he and the bat boys. Hear me out 🤭 we all know Rhys uses sex as a tool to get what he wants which is why i always say he was not SAed by amarantha. He used her to get information and started some slick shit behind the scenes. Tamlin called him out for starting the war at the hl meeting and that’s when feyre cut him off and she said Tamlin doesn’t get to spin the narrative to his favor. (So what did Rhys tell her for her to think that? Tam is no daemati?) He also did groom Tamlin with “females” . He suggested to feyre threesomes… they had sex in the middle of a war and wanted to in the Library. I am all for sex it’s normal but when there’s a pattern I can’t unsee it. But I digress.

It’s as much his fault as feyre. I think he wanted to satisfy a kink. Because he’s never been with an Illyrian female so they could flap themselves like flies in the air. Cass may be general but he’s not liked by his own people. Az tends to also stay away from them. Their choices in females don’t look like the females that bore them. They literally grew up in the night court away from Illyrian females.

Illyrian females though cruelly used I will assume won’t be SO EASILY ACCESSIBLE So fey having wings and they using it as a fetish sounds about as right. Because if Rhys had done it that Illyrian female would have been a child, they clip wings at 18 so she would’ve been less… hence he cannot fulfill that fantasy.

As a male he doesn’t understand a female as we would ourselves. I know some men who don’t even know what ovulation is. As I said Rhys had an extensive education but we all know it wasn’t on medicine let alone female anatomy of the fae female species.

Fantasy novel or not it raises questions of how many of these readers see the world. Recently foreigners have been arrested in Dubai for laughing and filiming a couple with the woman in a niqab. Her own culture and religion. Actions have consequences just because you have freedom. Feyre has freedom to cosplay but she wasn’t ready for the death sentence of her actions not just to Rhys but her unborn child

Credits to: Antoinette Cea-Lopes on TikTok

I can’t believe that this is even a conversation. Once again one half of the fandom never ceases to blow my mind with their lack of common sense & media literacy!

I don’t get how people do not understand that when Nesta adjusted her body she did not change her entire being into an Illyrian!!!

Nesta is still very much a HIGH FAE FEMALE!!! When she adjusted her body all she did was widen her hips and birthing canal so that she would not die during childbirth like Feyre almost did giving birth to a winged child!!

Feyre on the other changes her entire autonomy on a genetic/celluar level using the power she got from Tamlin…IT’s LITERALLY WHAT SHAPESHIFTING IS!!!!! It’s also the reason why Nyx is 3/4 Illyrian & a quarter high fae because FEYRE WAS FULL ILLYRIAN WHEN SHE SHIFTED!!! & Nyx’s 1/4 Illyrian counterpart comes from RHYSAND because he is 1/2 Illyrian & 1/2 high fae!!

When Feyre & Rhysand were jeeting in the sky she cosplayed as an Illyrian female by altering her entire autonomy!!

Feyre’s wings are literally MALE ILLYRIAN WINGS that she COPIED & PASTED on to herself just because she could & liked the look of them. She took one look at Azriel’s wings & said yep that’ll do.

Nesta is NOT Illyrian she is still high fae.

When Feyre shapeshifts she is no longer high fae & IS full Illyrian!

I don’t get why they can’t understand this???!!!

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

“What should we do about people who are clearly not straight but insist they are?”

Well, nothing. We do nothing about that. 

Don’t get me wrong, I understand the frustration. No matter if this is a situation where they have a full-on fling with you and still insist that they are straight, or if it’s your friend who jokes so often that she wishes she could just be a lesbian that you don’t really think it’s a joke anymore, or even if it’s a celebrity who talks about how they had experiences with women and men and then goes on to call themselves a straight ally - sometimes you just wanna grab someone by the shoulders and tell them they are clearly lying to themselves and/or are not aware bisexuality exists. 

There’s nothing wrong with that feeling. Especially if you yourself had a difficult time coming to terms with your sexuality, you may want to save others those years of confusion. And there ARE people who lie to themselves or are not aware bisexuality exists. 

But - and this is an important but - coming to a point where they are able and willing to come out to themselves? That’s a journey everyone needs to go on themselves. 

Maybe you look back and wish someone would’ve grabbed you by the shoulder and went “You are gay, accept it”. It’s a comforting fantasy but in real life you can’t force an epiphany of self-discovery like that. You can’t have their epiphany for them. You can offer an open ear and share some information with them if (and only if!) they ask you for advice - but that’s all you can do. 

Next to “You can’t force an internal coming-out on someone who isn’t ready to have one yet”, there’s also another important point we need to consider here: It’s not our place or business to do anything about it. 

Maybe you feel like you see “all the signs” in that person, but it’s not your call to make. You don’t live their life, you can’t decide how they feel or how they want to label it. 

You can’t force a label on someone, and that goes both ways. You can’t tell a gay person they are actually straight, but you also can’t tell a straight person they are actually gay. Experiences do not always equal attraction, sexuality is a complex spectrum and feelings are messy anyway. 

This is of course especially hard to accept if there are feelings involved on your part, for example in that “making out with you at parties and then going home to their heterosexual partner” scenario. You may tell yourself you just need to wait until they are ready to come out as gay and then they’ll want to be with you for real - but that journey we talked about, that may also just end in the realization that, yep, they are straight. Questioning your sexuality, or even experimenting with it, doesn’t always end in a coming-out as gay/bi. 

With all that said, it really boils down to this: 

You can generally(!) advocate for things that make the journey easier for people to go on (for example more accessible education on sexuality). But when it comes to any one specific person, you don’t do anything - unless they explicitly ask you to. 

You can listen if they want to talk about any confusion they may feel regarding their sexuality, you can offer information and support if they ask you for help in figuring it out. But if they are not asking for help, you just accept they are on their own journey and know themselves best. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[creatur3featur3]

Dream come True?

A/N: ughhh i love this one, very silly and sweet Billie, direct continuation of the first part- psst go read that first to understand the story! anyways enjoy babes 😘

NOT proof read, may have some weird sentences here and there and untrue information!!

warnings: none

word count: 1.5k

summary: Billie makes you sorta 100% jello during her show

“Wait, wait, what happened? Did you get the tickets?!” Amber’s voice was high-pitched with excitement as soon as she answered, cutting through the panic-stricken rush of words spilling out of your mouth.

“Amber, you won’t believe me, but-” you paused, heart still hammering in your chest, trying to make sense of the unreal situation that had just unfolded in front of you, “Billie Eilish... was just in my mom’s bakery. Like, she was right there, sitting down, talking to me…”

“Wait, hold on,” Amber cut in, her tone now serious with disbelief, “Did you just say Billie Eilish was in your bakery?”

“Yes!” You could barely contain the excitement in your voice, your hands shaking as you paced around the empty bakery. "I was just making croissants, and she walks in like it's no big deal, like she's just another person. I didn’t even recognize her at first, and then I thought, ‘No way,’ but—then it was really her!”

Amber let out a loud gasp on the other end of the phone. “Wait, did you talk to her?! Did she get pastries?”

“Yeah, I told her the pastries weren’t ready yet, and she sat down and... we talked. And then—get this—she offered me tickets to her show. Like, VIP tickets. She said she'd get me up front. And I almost said no!” You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it now. “I was going to turn her down because I thought it was too much, but then I just—she was serious. She’s so... chill. And then she left, and I didn't even get a picture or anything—”

“Oh my god, wait.” Amber’s voice was a mix of awe and jealousy. “Are you telling me that you almost didn’t take the tickets? What’s wrong with you, are you trying to lose your mind?! You know how rare that is, right? Billie Eilish just offered you VIP tickets, front row, probably on the house, and you didn’t snap a picture?! I would’ve died, Y/N! DIED! You could've been in the same room with her! You could've had an actual conversation and—”

“I was in shock!” you shot back, pacing faster now, trying to organize your thoughts. “I didn’t even know what to say to her! It was Billie Eilish, Amber. She’s a literal goddess. And I was standing there like an idiot with flour all over my hands, trying to act normal.”

Amber was quiet for a second, clearly processing what you had just told her. Then she sighed, her voice much softer now. “Okay, well, it sounds like you really had a moment, Y/N. I mean, she must’ve liked you if she’s offering you that kind of access. I think she saw how genuine you were. That’s not something everyone gets to experience.”

You paused, leaning against the counter, letting Amber’s words sink in. She was right. Billie didn’t have to do that. She could’ve easily gone to any other bakery, or at least pretended to be too busy or too famous to care. But she didn’t. She was real. And she seemed to see you as just another person in the crowd, not a screaming fan who would lose their mind over the chance to meet her.

“I think... I think I'm still in shock,” you muttered.

“Well, you should be!” Amber laughed. “But seriously, Y/N, you have to go now. You can’t just let that opportunity slip away.”

“Of course I’m going,” you replied quickly. “I mean... how could I not?”

“And when you meet her again,” Amber said, almost with a warning tone, “You better have a good outfit. You cannot look like you just rolled out of bed again.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll figure it out,” you said, already thinking about what you’d wear. “I can't believe this is real. She... she liked my bakery, Amber. She said she might come back. What if she actually does?”

“Then you're gonna need to be ready,” Amber said with a laugh. “Just make sure you don’t fall apart when you see her again, okay?”

“I won’t, I won’t. I swear,” you muttered, your heart still racing, but now it was a different kind of racing. A kind of exhilaration that only came from knowing you had just crossed paths with someone you'd only ever dreamed of meeting.

“And for the record,” Amber added with a smirk in her voice, “You have to tell me everything—EVERYTHING—that happens at the show. Don’t leave a single detail out.”

“I won’t,” you promised, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling inside you. “This is going to be insane.”

---

The day of the concert finally arrived, and you could hardly focus at work. It had been a blur of checking the time and watching the clock tick closer and closer to the moment when you’d finally be standing in front of Billie Eilish, at one of her sold-out shows, no longer just a fan on the outside, but someone she had actually invited.

When the time came, you found yourself standing at the entrance of the venue, security scanning your pass with an eyebrow raised at the VIP badge that had your name on it. They nodded you through without question. Your heart thumped against your ribcage as you walked through the corridors, past all the other fans who were waiting for the doors to open, and you found yourself at the front, where the stage was. And there, standing beside it—was Billie. She was chatting with the crew, her black hair falling in soft waves around her face, dressed in the kind of casual outfit that still made her look like she had stepped out of a magazine.

Your breath caught in your throat as she spotted you, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Y/N you came!” she smiled as she walked up to you and pulled you in for a warm hug, many your breath hitch involuntarily.

You stood there for a moment, frozen in shock, as Billie Eilish—your idol, the very person who had left you speechless in your mom’s bakery wrapped her arms around you.

 Her embrace was warm, genuine, as if she hadn't just turned the world upside down by offering you VIP tickets. She smelled faintly of something sweet but rich, like coffee and vanilla, and for a second, you couldn't believe this was real.

“I—uh—yeah!” you stammered, trying to play it cool but knowing you were failing miserably. “I, uh, can’t believe this is actually happening.”

Billie laughed, a low, melodic sound that made your heart skip. “I can’t believe you almost didn’t take the tickets. You’re fucking crazy. But I’m glad you did. It’s good to see you again.”

You felt like you were on another planet, standing beside her, watching her move so effortlessly between the fans and the crew like she wasn’t a global superstar. “I—um—wow, you look amazing,” you managed to say, the words almost tripping over themselves in your mind before they came out.

Billie was in a dark blue jersey with the number “80” in big bold letters on the front- she had her iconic glasses on and her baggy shorts as usual- but fuck it didn't make it any less hot to see it in person.

 Billie gave you a playful wink. “You too, though. You’ve got that whole ‘I like concerts a little too much’ vibe going for you. I dig it.”

The compliment made your face flush, looking down at your own merch, your cheeks naturally coming more red as you met Billie’s pale blue eyes. “Thanks. I, uh… I didn’t really have money to buy any new merch so, I got some of my old stuff,” you said, motioning to your outfit, her “Happier than ever” album image plastered on the black shirt and ripped jeans mixed with a few rings and your dangling star earrings. You’d hoped it looked casually stylish enough, but compared to the crowd around you, you felt like an awkward fish out of water.

“You look great,” Billie reassured you.

You tried to ignore the heat buzzing in your chest as she turned and ran away, probably having to get ready for the show, and you didn't mind, you were finally able to feel what it was like to be at a real, huge concert. As the lights dimmed the arena erupted with cheers as Billie popped up on stage, people were screaming in your ears the whole time but you didn't care, all you could do was watch Billie as she danced across the stage without a care in the damn world.

The show went on for a while before the song Billie had been featured on, starting playing- one of your favorites… Guess.

Billie jumped out onto the stage again, the song playing as she sang, everything felt absolutely perfect, the lights, the bass of the arena that made you feel your damn insides moving, everything.

Then? Billie looked straight at you, smiling slyly as she sung the best part of the song-

I wanna

Try it, bite it, lick it, spit it

pull it to the side and get all up in it

kiss it, bite it, can i fit it?

Charli likes boys but she knows I'd hit it.

god damn, you would've combusted right then and there when she added on that little

Charli call me if your with it 

mouthing your name instead of Charli’s when singing the line.

god damnit.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 [Part 2]

Everyone sometimes needs that special push- that one good reason- to break out of old shells, walls and habits, and make that change.

Tags/Warnings: Non-Idol Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, former criminal!Jungkook, mentions of past neglect/abuse, reader has some pretty bad psychological problems (OCD, Anxiety, Selective mutism, hints at an eating disorder), hypersomnia, road to recovery, hurt and lots of comfort, angst, Jungkook has some problems with aggression and swears a lot, more TBA in future chapters

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: You can have early access to this and other selected fics on my Patreon!

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

It's right where he thought it might be.

You're basically drowning in the fabric of his sweater, but he's also never seen you so visibly calm during sleep. He can't even be mad about it- even though he usually does get rather irritated about his own clothes being taken by others.

He hates it. But for some reason, if it's you, he doesn't mind.

In fact, he's got to admit that you look cute like this. "We'll take a small walk to the park with the dog hybrids today. They need their time outside." Hana informs him as he puts the card hanging from the red string around his neck, so staff knows who he is. "They're all ready at the front, so you can go and check in with Yoha." Jungkook furrows his brows.

"What about her?" he asks, pointing to you who's still napping in the corner you're usually found in.

"She doesn't tag along." Hana says, as if he should know that. "She's not mentally fit for trips like that."

"I mean, on paper." Jungkook says, almost scoffing. "But like, did you ask her?"

"No, because she never comes along." She says rather defensively now. "Jungkook please, we know her better than you. Just stay here if you don't want to come along, but don't try and lecture me or anyone else here who's worked with her and other hybrids for years." She scolds.

But it seems like she doesn't know Jungkook.

Walking over to you, he's careful not to touch you, well aware that it could freak you out especially if you're asleep.

Doesn't know you, he scoffs to himself. He knows you better than her it seems, that's for sure.

"Hey." he tries, but you're sleeping too deep. "Hey, puppy. Wake up." he demands again, and now he can notice your ears moving, eyes opening after a few seconds, until his eyes widen at the sigh. You're smiling. Your tail is wagging.

You look genuinely happy.

"Hey there." he says, unable to hide his own smile either. "Hana said we're going to the park. You wanna come along?" he wonders, and he can see for a second that you're hesitating. "It's okay if you don't. No hard feelings. Just thought, you know, I should ask." he adds on, when you slowly sit up, playing with the strings of your sweatpants.

Then, you point at your shoes.

"Oh fuck, yeah, I forgot!" he shoots up, running to his bag where he pulls out another plastic bag, before running back to you. "I bought them a size smaller cause those you have seemed to big, but if you wear like, I don't know, socks or some shit in them they might fit." he explains, before pulling out some slip-in chelsea boots with almost no heel. Your eyes are like dinner plates at the sight. "Would be a good chance to try them out, no?" he wonders, nodding towards the small crowd of dog hybrids at the front, Yoha already counting everyone it seems.

So much for 'she doesn't ever come along', he angrily thinks.

And then, you pull on his sweater to get his attention. "Hm?" he wonders, just for you to hesitantly grab his sleeve. "I'll stay with you if that's what you're scared of. And we can go back at any moment." he reassures.

And that's what seems to make it work for you, because you move to slip into your new boots, before you get up and grab your coat from the hangers close by. He wants to say something to the staff-

But he composes himself, bringing you along to the front where Yoha and Hana already wait.

"Here." Hana says, giving him a yellow reflective.. Leash? "It's mandatory for her. I'm sorry, but without it-"

"Yeah yeah fucking protocol crap, I know." he grumbles more or less to himself, snatching the leash from her hands before he carefully clips it onto your collar. He cringes at the sight, hates it, and he hates it even more that somewhere in the backside of the logical part in his brain, he understands it.

He also comforts himself with the fact that you seem perfectly fine with the arrangement. It gives you a sense of security, equal as if holding onto his hand but without physical contact. You're skittish, still very much scared, but walking close to him seems to calm you down enough to make it work.

He didn't think you'd genuinely play at the park like the others do, and you don't- but that's fine.

The fact that you're here, that you're outside and at least attempting to find your way back into life away from your little bubble you've created shows him that you're not a lost case at all. A bit of work, and you could surely be adopted by someone nice who looks past all those issues. But somehow, the thought of you living with someone else makes him upset.

He knows he's not a good fit for someone like you.

He's talked to his best friend about it the night prior. It's a lot of responsibility already to live with a regular hybrid- but you're special needs. And considering his past mistakes and criminal record, there's simply no way to file for emotional support or therapy assistance.

It's beginning to rain a little, and he throws the hood of his sweater over his head before making sure your jacket is zipped up properly as well- like second nature.

You've noticed this before as well. He looks scary, with his piercings and tattoos and bold body and angry gaze. But he only looks that way. He's like a guard dog for you; a protector, because with him at your side nothing bad will ever happen. He's nice, a bit rough, but always friendly in his own way.

You like him.

Meanwhile Jungkook himself can't see what you see in him.

He's not the right person for you.

Next to him, you're perfectly content with your situation. Your tail is wagging sometimes in shared excitement when the hybrids in sight throw and catch a ball, but you also don't look like you actively want to participate. Watching seems to be more than enough, though you do check in if he's still next to you, tail wagging eagerly when he responds with a short smile your way.

He's not the right person for you, and he knows this.

When you walk back, he can feel your fingers grabbing the edge of his sleeve tightly, weighing his arm down a little. He notices the way his skin brushes against your fingers every now and then- feels how you do not react anymore, at all. There's a small moment of pure bravery, the sight of a road ahead, and the view of every hybrid standing in pairs holding hands that leads you to carefully slip your fingers between his. He quietly responds, holding your cold hand in his warmer one, thumb running circles over the soft back of your palm.

He knows he's not the right person for you.

But he wants to be.

[ladelinee]

Authors note: This was a challenging part to write. I had many doubts about how to approach it, but I couldn't wait to finish and share it with you all! Enjoy! 🥰

Word count: 3,5K

Warnings: cussing, mentions of pills, a bit of violence.

All shook up

Part 7

"Goddammit man, she ain't killed nobody! And I swear to God, whoever swiped my gun… I'll tell you what, I'm gonna rip his goddamn spine outta that son of a bitch!" Elvis hollered in the living room.

He was clearly getting desperate, pacing back and forth, plopping himself down on the sofa, nervously bouncing his knee, and wiping his face with his hands in sheer frustration.

Most of his guys were in the room supporting him: Joe, Red, Sonny, Lamar, Marty, Charlie, Jerry, Billy…even Vernom, his father.

Elvis's yells made the room fall quiet for a

moment as all the guys jump to attention.

They were sitting in a circle, looking serious and deep in thought. Smoke from their cigarettes filled the air, making it hazy, but they didn’t seem to mind. Each guy had this mix of worry and determination written all over his face, but they were ready to face whatever came their way as a team.

Elvis felt the knot in his stomach tighten as he grappled with the words the Colonel had spoken earlier. He didn't want to admit the truth, but deep down, he knew he was in a challenging situation. The accusations shook him to the core, leaving him with an unsettling feeling.

As Elvis paced the room again, his frustration boiling over, Joe spoke up. “She was so sick she could barely stand. There’s no way she could’ve done anything like this.”

Red nodded vigorously, adding, “Yeah, Elvis, she was practically passed out. I had to carry her. Shooting a gun? Not even in her wildest dreams.”

“Maybe we should start by figuring out who had access to the penthouse. That’ll give us a place to start.” Lamar suggested as he stared at the table deep in thought.

Charlie reacted to Lamar's words “ But we need to be careful. The police are gonna be all over this, and they won’t hesitate to come down hard on us” he warned in a severe tone.

"Women... always causing trouble," Marty quipped, laughing and puffing his cigar.

Elvis erupted in rage, charging over to where Marty was seated and seizing him by the collar. "Ya think this is funny, you damn fool?" He yelled with anger, his knuckles turning white from the gripping.

Marty’s laughter died in his throat as Elvis’s fury bore down on him. Joe and Red rushed forward, attempting to pull him away from Marty. “Come on E, let him go” Joe urged, his voice tinged with concern.

Marty, visibly shaken, straightened his collar and cleared his throat nervously. “I-I’m sorry, Elvis. I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

Elvis looked at Joe and could see from his expression that everyone was there just to back him up. After taking a deep breath and pausing briefly, he approached the group. He placed his hand on the back of the couch and began to speak.

"Alright, y’all…here's the deal: Billy, Lamar, and Sonny, you guys go and check out those who have access to this room. Joe, Red, get yourselves ready for talkin’ with the police. We ain’t hidin’ nothin’. Rest of ya, gather up information and keep the press outta here. Dad, you take care of the Colonel.”

With confidence, the guys nodded in agreement to Elvis's instructions, and each one began to leave the room to carry out their assigned tasks. Jerry approached and gave Elvis a pat on the back. “Don't worry, we'll find that son of a bitch” he said, trying to reassure Elvis.

Still slightly panting with anger and staring at the floor, Elvis couldn't respond to Jerry's words. His frustration simmered, and he simply wanted everyone to leave the room. The only thing that could make him feel better was his upcoming date with Y/n and talking to her about everything. He was eager to see her again and to keep her safe.

The scalding water from the shower had managed to calm his boiling rage. As Elvis carefully wrapped a towel around his hips, he began to lather his face, preparing for a clean shave. His plan was all set in stone; he had his outfit picked out and the perfect undercover car chosen. This time, Elvis had opted to go alone throughout Las Vegas, and he already had a gun in mind to carry for protection and a foolproof escape route from the hotel up his sleeve. A smirk played at his lips as he realised that thanks to y/n, he had the perfect strategy for slipping away undetected.

Emerging from the bathroom, Elvis drifted into a reverie. He yearned for moments alone with her, with no rush. Oh, how he craved the simple pleasures: sharing a meal, witnessing her radiant smile, smelling the fragrance of her hair, and feeling her warmth...

“Oh, there you are!”

Priscilla's voice abruptly shattered the daydream that was consuming Elvis' thoughts at that moment.

Elvis's eyebrows furrowed as a feeling of annoyance washed over him. He hadn't expected her to come at that moment, especially when he was already dealing with a lot. This moment felt like déjà vu. Every time he was about to meet y/n, Priscilla suddenly showed up. She moved around the bedroom, smiling tenderly at Elvis.

Priscilla approached him and took hold of his face with both hands before leaning forward and kissing him. Elvis didn’t move a muscle; his eyes remained open and fixed on hers the entire time. He didn’t kiss her back, not even for an instance. He just stood there, letting her kiss him.

“What are you doin’ here, Cilla? you should’ve phoned before comin’ over.” Elvis asked while he gently pushed away Priscilla’s hands over his face. He really hated her surprises, and he was still processing why she was there, just as he was about to leave.

“I just wanted to see if I could melt that icy heart of yours…maybe we can give ourselves another chance” Priscilla answered gently, brushing her nails over his wet chest down to the towel.

Elvis’s jaw clenched as he felt Priscilla’s touch,

“Cilla, this ain’t the time” he managed to say, his voice strained. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. There’s… there’s been a murder and it seems someone got me involved. I gotta go.”

“What happened? Please, you have to tell me” Priscilla insisted, her tone of concern and seriousness. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it might all be a misunderstanding.

Elvis turned his back to Priscilla to take his robe and put it on. "The girl was murdered in my assistant’s office, with my gun. And I know it wasn’t her." He explained as he tied the robe’s belt.

Priscilla's eyes widened in surprise as she struggled to contain her rage. "With your gun? H-How?" Priscilla's nervousness was evident in her hesitant question. She understood something had gone wrong in Angelica’s plan. Then, gaining composure, she changed her expression to a darker tone, "I'm sure she stole the gun. How can you be so certain it wasn't her?"

With his back still turned towards Priscilla, Elvis glanced at her from the corner of his eye and said, "Because... she spent the night with me." He stayed calm, keeping his explanations short and simple.

Priscilla pretended to be surprised. She knew she had to perform a whole act so Elvis wouldn’t suspect anything.

Priscilla’s eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembling as she struggled to comprehend his words. “Oh, Elvis”, her voice breaking. “How could you?”

"Please, don't act like you don't know what I'm talkin’ bout", Elvis scoffed, looking at the ceiling and rubbing his eyes. "I ain't no fool, darlin'. I know them employees gossip; it’s not the first time, and you sure have your contacts among 'em." Elvis couldn't stand it when Priscilla played the victim.

Immediately, guilt washed over Elvis as he turned and watched her tears fall. Despite his anger, he couldn’t bear to see her cry and felt a deep sense of remorse. “Look, sorry, I-I need to go.”

Priscilla wasn't ready to back down. "Fine," she retorted. "Running off to see your little fling while there's a murder investigation going on. That's just like you, Elvis" she snapped, wiping her tears away. "You can't leave me here; I might be in danger; we need to talk." Her words were filled with a strange mix of anger and helplessness.

Elvis stared at her silently, feeling torn. While he wanted to give Priscilla a break, his concern for their daughter’s well-being held him back. At the same time, he knew that their relationship had changed. Although she remained important to him, the romantic spark was over.

A loud knock on the door abruptly broke the silence between them. Elvis let out a curse under his breath, wondering who could possibly be coming now. As soon as he opened the door, his expression changed drastically. It was the police. Elvis's mind raced as he tried to process the unexpected arrival of law enforcement.

The police officers on the other side exchanged glances before one spoke up. “Mr. Presley, we need you to come down to give a statement.”

"Sure, Sir" Elvis replied with a resigned sigh, casting a final glance back at Priscilla. "I'll be right back" he assured her. "I'll stay, so we can wrap this up later, alright?" With that, he turned his attention to the police officers and followed them outside, leaving Priscilla behind.

The police arrived at my doorstep with a search warrant, and before I knew it, I found myself being escorted into their car without any explanation. I couldn't even be sure if they had read me my rights.

As the police car pulled from my house, I couldn't help but stare out the window. The streets rushed past, each turn carrying me farther from the life I once knew.

The officers in the front seats occasionally exchanged glances, speaking in hushed tones that I strained to understand.

Finally, we arrived at the police station. As I entered, the harsh fluorescent lights exposed the sterile surroundings. My heart pounded as I was escorted to a small interrogation room. The door clicked shut behind me.

Alone in the stark room, I sank into a chair, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me.

The harsh glare of the spotlight in the police station room was so intense that it felt like it was burning into my retinas, making it nearly impossible to focus. Since Elvis called, my thoughts have been trapped in a thick, suffocating fog. Everything happened so quickly; my world felt like falling apart, but I couldn’t even cry. I was too shocked.

A stern-faced detective and an officer entered the room as the door creaked open. The detective's piercing gaze bore into me as he took a seat, relieving me from the harsh spotlight.

“Miss y/ln, correct?" the detective inquired, flipping open a document-filled folder.

"Yes" I affirmed, meeting his gaze.

"We're going to ask you some questions. You have the right to remain silent until your lawyer arrives. It's your decision," he stated, arranging the papers.

"It's okay, let's proceed."

"Alright. Miss y/ln, to begin with, there has been a murder," he explained, displaying a photo of my office. "Is this the office where you typically carry out your work tasks?"

"Yes, that's correct."

The detective leaned in, his expression grave. "Now, Miss Y/ln, can you take us through what you were up to on the night of the incident?" He shifted his gaze from the papers to me as he asked.

I closed my eyes and sighed. I had to tell the truth, but I was getting nervous as I didn’t remember part of the night.

“Well, I was working in Mr Presley’s private party…” as I was explaining, the officer was taking notes, recalling that night was hurting me more than the thought of the police sending me to jail “(…) and I spent the night with him in his penthouse.”

“Right. Now, Miss y/ln, this is why we searched your property” he said, displaying another photograph. The photograph was the victim’s hand holding a piece of paper.

“It’s a note that reads: ‘Don’t freeze out there while I’m not with you, baby. Meet me at midnight, backstage. -E.’ We also found fibres in her hand that matched your coat at your residence. Can you explain this?”

I froze at that moment. Why did she have that note? It was from the box I left in my office. But how did she come across it?

"Mr. Presley gave me a present. It was a box that contained a coat and that note. I left the box and the note in my office," she explained.

"Then it's possible that in the middle of the night, you took Mr. Presley's gun and shot the girl after she found out about your secret affair?" he pressed, increasing the pressure on me.

"No, no, no... I would never harm anyone or steal, for god’s sake!" I exclaimed, my voice tinged with panic.

"We've traced your telephone conversation with Mr. Presley earlier today," he stated calmly, retrieving another document from the stack of papers and presenting it to me. It was a transcript of our conversation. "'Oh, I know, but I reckon you might have headed to your office after Joe and Red took you back'... Miss y/ln, what do you have to say about this?" The detective asked.

As I heard those words once more, spoken by none other than Elvis, it felt like a punch to the gut. I was left speechless, grappling with the weight of his harsh accusations. Tears streamed down my face, and I couldn't hold them back.

"Okay, let's take a break," the detective said gently. "We'll continue once you've had a chance to compose yourself."

When you sit down to watch a horror film, you know it's going to scare you. Even though you're fully aware that it will give you nightmares, you still can't resist watching it. That's exactly how I felt after my last conversation with Elvis.

Bursting into tears that were almost choking me, I couldn't help but read the script repeatedly, engraving those words in my mind with fire.

I began reading from the start once more, over and over again, and...

Hold on.

“I-t’s me, darling”

“M-aybe this ain’t the right moment”

“N-o darlin’, I ain’t comin’ over”

“O-h, I know, but I reckon you…”

“T-he truth is, I can’t risk hanging…”

“S-orry, darlin’, but…”

“A-one-night stand, I guess”

“N-ot to mention darlin”

“T-ake care of yourself, honey”

“A-nd one last thing”

I- I’m.. not…S- a- nta? I’m not Santa! Santa Claus? But what is this?

As I looked on, my eyes widened, and a shiver ran down my spine. It couldn't have been a mere coincidence. My hands began to tremble involuntarily.

Alex, you are a fucking genius.

Why did he do this? To protect me? No, he would have been straightforward; he was hiding this message for a reason. He wouldn’t hurt me unless someone forced him to do so. Something must have happened. Actually, I didn’t see him around my office this morning, and he never missed a gossip.

Oh god, he is in danger.

"Officer!" I yelled, my heart racing. "Please, you have to help. My friend is in danger, something's not right." My words tumbled out in a mix of worry and hope. If the police took this information seriously, maybe they could finally uncover the truth and find out who was behind it all.

As soon as the detective burst into the room, his expression was a mix of surprise and concern. I quickly launched into explaining the encrypted message from the conversation transcript, but his expression grew darker as I spoke. He abruptly left the room to make a phone call, leaving me wondering what was happening.

He took the nearest telephone just in the corridor in front of me. So I was able to see him. He said, “She knows too much. Alright, thanks," and hung up.

I was utterly confused. Before I could make sense of anything, he rushed over and grabbed my arm, saying aggressively:

"You're coming with me. We're visiting someone.”

Elvis spent nearly 5 hours giving his statement, determined to ensure that every detail was known. His affair was now public knowledge, but he didn't mind, as long as y/n was safe. Sonny escorted him to the floor where his penthouse was located.

"Sonny, stay close. If ya hear anything, give me a heads up," Elvis urged, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Sonny nodded with concern in his eyes and said his goodbyes to Elvis.

As Elvis closed the heavy wooden penthouse door behind him, he leaned against it, feeling the coolness of the polished mahogany against his back. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes, trying to relieve the pounding headache that had been building up throughout the chaotic events of the day.

He walked into the bedroom and saw Priscilla peacefully asleep in bed. A wave of relief washed over Elvis as he realised he wouldn't have to deal with her just yet.

Elvis was extremely cautious as he quietly made his way into the bed, ensuring not to disturb Priscilla. He positioned himself along the edge, making a conscious effort to avoid any physical contact with her. His mind was racing, and despite his strong desire to take sleeping pills, he resisted, determined to remain awake in case any updates were to come in.

He couldn't get the police's information out of his head: the note clutched in the victim's hand and a shocking new revelation about the weapon - only Elvis and the victim's fingerprints were found.

Elvis spent the night staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. As the first rays of sunlight peeked through the closed curtains, he heard Priscilla stirring. He kept his eyes closed, not ready to face her yet. He feigned sleep, knowing she would probably leave early.

He felt her hand on his waist and her breath near his ear. Priscilla kissed his cheek and whispered, "I have some appointments but I'll return soon. I love you."

Elvis remained silent, his breathing becoming deeper and more steady. He had fooled Priscilla into thinking that he had taken sleeping pills. Noticing his oblivious state, she reached for the phone on the bedside table, ready to make a call.

"I'm on my way," Priscilla said.

Elvis found it odd, but he assumed she was probably heading to have breakfast with Joe's wife or something similar.

Once Priscilla left the room, Elvis slowly opened his eyes. Sitting up in bed, his dark circles were a clear sign of exhaustion.

He heard the door creak open, and for a moment, he thought Priscilla was returning to the room. Quickly, he lay back down on the bed.

“God, Mr. Presley, I am so sorry!" Doris's voice broke in as she saw Elvis in bed with one eye open and the other closed.

"Oh, it's just you, darlin’. No need to worry, come on in," Elvis said, brushing off her apology.

“I'm really sorry; I saw Mrs Presley and thought I could come in to clean the room," Doris said, looking at Elvis, clearly a bit worn out. "Mr. Presley... are you okay? Shall I call in-room dining service?

"Don't worry, darlin’, I'm fine... thank you so much", Elvis replied with a forced smile, but with every intention of making Doris feel comfortable.

Doris continued cleaning as she glanced at Elvis's face once again, her gaze then fixed on the floor. She knew Elvis was suffering; that poor boy was under much pressure, especially as a public figure. She began to ponder as she straightened out one of the corners of her uniform jacket.

"Mr. Presley, I think I need to tell you something," Doris said with a frightened tone.

"Don't ya worry about the mess, darlin’, the guys were here last night. I know it's full of cigarette ashes and Lord knows what else," Elvis said with a smirk.

"No, it's not that, Mr. Presley," Doris said with a serious tone.

Elvis opened both eyes, sat in bed again, and asked eagerly, "Then what is it?"

"I-I don't think it was y/n who killed the girl," Doris said, afraid to speak.

“Ah, I agree. I'm sure it wasn't her," Elvis said while twirling the rings of his fingers deep in thoughts as he nodded in agreement.

"Mr. Presley..." Doris began, cautiously approaching Elvis.

"Perhaps you misunderstood me. I think I know who is behind this murder.”

Need to recap? Part 6 here

Part 8 here

Tags: @pxpresley ❤️❤️

[lets-try-some-writing]

Okay, TFP univererse but Unicron adores humans? Like, the moment he sees these feral little organics scattered around his frame he's like "What is this... adorable little creature? I guess I'm a father now." Extra points if he still poses as an eldritch abomination to Cybertronians . I'm a sucker for a character who is this ruthless and vile creature to everyone but secretly acts like a total softie towards his children😭 If you can, I would like to see reaction from both humans and Cybertronians at this development.

I love a good old bad guy (sort of) redemption arc. A dad gotta love his kiddos even if he is the destroyer of everything.

Abrupt Parenthood

When Unicron awoke and felt the presence of Cybertronians he was about ready to flip out in rage. He was so blinded by their presence initially that when Primus's disgusting Vessel appeared before him and told him of the entities living upon his surface, he did not believe it at first. However Primes were very rarely known to lie, and the one before him felt sickeningly familiar to the one he fought so long ago, and so he briefly paused to consider the given information.

As he felt around his frame he was flabbergasted to discover that the Prime was right, he was totally covered in all sorts of fleshy organic creatures. He paused for nearly ten minutes as he just took it all in, the flora, the fauna, the whole ecosystem that had flourished upon him. And most importantly, he took the time to look at the sentient little life forms that had spawned from him, the tiny and oh so fragile humans. He should have felt disgusted, but as he observed the millions of humans on his frame he found himself feeling oddly protective. And so when the Prime pleaded with him to remain in at least partial slumber, Unicron complied stating that he would need time to consider the situation.

His avatars went back into dormancy and he stopped his awakening, instead opting to watch the small entities living on his surface in awe. They were so short lived, even over the course of the few weeks he spent just watching he saw hundreds of thousands of them be born and die all within mere days of each other. Not only that but they were weak beyond words, at least physically, especially since their only armor was hardly anything of note when compared to Primus's creations. The little humans died daily due to any and all possible causes, some to accidents, some to their own stupidity, some to violence, and even more to pure bad luck. But they also showed immeasurable drive and ingenuity, every single one of them living their lives to the fullest and striving for greatness even when so small in the grand scheme of things.

They were weak, they were short lived, and they were oh so foolish in the sight of elder races. But they were the most wonderful little lifeforms Unicron had ever seen. Before he even realized it, he had grown attached to the beings that were born of him and rapidly accepted the mantle of fatherhood. He did not stop his children from doing as they wished, he did not stop their deaths or interfere in their actions. He may have been the great destroyer, but when it came to his offspring, he was much like Primus. He understood that his children needed to be left to their own devices for the most part if they were to learn. And while he did occasionally use a small avatar or highjack an animal to stop things like suicides and the like, he otherwise left the humans alone.

However his general passiveness in response to his new offspring did not stop him from harassing Primus's creations. While unable to transform or access much of his power due to the humans possibly being harmed, he could still make life difficult for the Cybertronians on his surface.

He cared little for the factions of his brother's creations, but he did tend to be more lenient with the Autobots for a host of reasons. First and foremost because they went to great lengths to protect his offspring and keep them from harms way. Secondly because the Prime, despite being Primus's horrid vessel, loved the humans he had taken on almost as much as Unicron himself. Unicron hated the Prime, but he was loath to loose such a powerful protector for his little ones. So long as Optimus lived, there was a good chance that he would continue to guard Unicron's offspring with his very spark, something the destroyer would not object to considering his situation. And of course his third reason for being kinder to them was simply because they weren't outright attempting to abuse his powers and semi-dormancy at every opportunity. There was a sense of caution that was kept, the Autobots never daring to touch his blood or interact with him at all save for the Prime's occasional attempts to speak with him and ensure he had no plans to awaken fully any time soon.

Usually Unicron's harassment ended up being small things like inconveniencing the Autobots by making it rain more often in certain areas or causing them to be unable to find energon for a while. Although he took care to ensure they didn't starve, he needed them alive for the time being after all. He purposefully liked to bother Optimus by sending ominous signs, leaving the Prime on edge for weeks and usually never doing anything with it. He also made sure that the tree humans under their care were always kept safe, even going out of his way to awaken an avatar when required to keep them from harm. While not usually his way of going about things, he only wanted his children to die naturally, not because of his brother's children's petty war. He was half tempted to try and give the human children gifts or something of the like to protect them, but upon noticing their fear and the general toxicity of his blood, he put that plan aside and served as a protector only when required.

The Decepticons however received no such leniency. While normally Unicron would be pleased with Cybertronians handing themselves over to him in exchange for power, this instance was different. Megatron wanted to rule Cybertron, and Unicron could care less. But the warlord had expressed a desire to cyberform earth as well, destroying all life upon its surface, and that could not stand. Earth and its inhabitants belonged to him, no one was allowed to touch his children, especially not a wayward brat of Primus. So he made life as miserable for the Decepticons as possible without outright murdering them. He would prefer if the Cybertronians wiped each other out, so why get rid of either faction? So long as they obliterated themselves he wouldn't have to worry about retribution from his brother or possible threats from them in the future.

Usually he tended to just screw over the Nemesis's flight patterns with terrible storm and other elemental hazards. He also found it incredibly entertaining to make life harder for the Vehicons in the mines. He sometimes made a few terrorcons with old corpses just to watch the Decepticon troops scream. Screwing with Megatron through strange visions and odd dreams was also funny, especially when the warlord couldn't figure out why he was dreaming of frolicking with the Autobots and doing the tango with Ratchet. It was just so much fun for Unicron to mess with Shockwave too, often subtly altering experiments of his to watch the scientist silently fume. He usually didn't do anything actually harmful unless the Decepticons harmed his humans, in which case he would gladly throw terrorcons at them or shoot their ship with lightening and the like as a warning.

The humans are his children. No one screws with them unless they want a very pissed of god of destruction doing everything in his power to ruin their life.

[mantisgodiveblog]

Snitch! Don't tell them that! We're being stealthy!

Someone's in trouble.

And here we have a bit more of the beginnings of ramping up into the full-blown Mood we noticed Bonnie getting into in the demo. They can hear you saying this, you know. They know you lied to them now. For the record, this is a decent way of handling things, minus the "telling them after" - what makes someone want to check something like this out so badly is that it's forbidden, being kept from them for no real reason but "it's adult stuff you won't like it".

Explaining the reasoning behind it (i.e. "alcohol's bad for your brain's development and if you drink it you might cause brain problems later down the road") or satisfying curiosity (i.e. "you can have a sip but it'll taste bad") are both going to be infinitely more effective than just going "no, not for you", because this way, you both help shine a light on the Unknown Thing they want to understand, thus snipping off a lot of the desire to do the thing as they now understand why it would be a bad idea, and help offer information on "hey, what happens if i (do the thing)" that they can then utilize in situations later down the road. The forbidden is tempting - by telling someone precisely what lies down that road, they can choose for themself if they want to see what comes from following it or not, and they can use that information in future situations where it may be handy. This is Forbidden Things 101.

They aren't missing out on anything, regardless. Vodka doesn't taste very good. Alcohol in general doesn't, honestly. Sex and drugs and alcohol and such get a lot of weight from the culture built up around them, but at the end of the day, they're just... things. You can do them or you can't. Building up a whole big structure around them to either pedestalize them or demonize them just... makes it more likely for people to make bad decisions around them, and makes it more likely for otherwise-reasonable decisions to be skewed.

Anyways, that's all for this entry. Next time: broken egg symbolism... 2! Also probably slightly less of All This Serious talk maybe it'll depend.

(Part 17 is here)

(Part 15 is here)

Well, back at it again. And we're starting with the star dog.

This thing is paper type - which we'll note down to question with Loop, later, though the manual does say they have no type.

And this is the thing that dissolves Tears, if we remember correctly. We remember being very confused about it, in the demo playthrough, considering there really wasn't much indication of what it DID - and then we got prompted to maybe use it on the wall of Tears, and we were like "yeah, okay, this might as well be happening". Is that noted strange feeling related to Time craft? Like the recurring motif of that tug in your stomach?

We also remember this from the demo. Will this be relevant later? Is it how the star dog got in? What's this here all about? We don't see a way to interact with it now, but maybe later...?

[marveltrumpshate]

★ AUCTION WEEK INFO ★

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[aprillikesthings]

can I finish this before I gotta get ready and leave for the Maundy Thursday service let's find out lol

(Edit: Nope.)

THREE MORE EPISODES LEFT

*cries*

s5 ep11 Failsafe

someone hold me

I have to actively suppress the urge to read the synopses of the episodes at this point

oh also lol this is just funny to me, I saw a post Elsewhere Online where someone watched all of spop the first time and they HATED the dumb names everyone has, and I think they mentioned Castaspella specifically.

And like FIFTY PEOPLE responded with "dude they had to use the original names from the 1980's series" and I was the only one there old enough to have watched the original series and I had to point out: the original series was made to sell toys. The vast majority of cartoons in 1985 were only made to sell toys. They gave everyone those dumbass names because it was easy for kids to remember and beg for the toys."

That's also why all the female characters in the original series have the exact same body type. Yeah the body shape itself was due to 1980's-era sexism, but also? It was so much cheaper to animate the show AND make the toys that way!

But also, it's hella ironic to me that the 2018 show has so little official merch!

And now, back to crying over cartoon lesbians:

good question

ugh I hate her

Shadow Weaver: "While you were traipsing around in space,"

OH MY GOD they were saving a few people's LIVES and it was kind of IMPORTANT but WHATEVER

"--some of us have been working to stop the Heart of Etheria from falling into Prime's hands. And we discovered the same thing you did. Rumors of a Failsafe that will break the restraints the First Ones built and set the stolen magic free." Glimmer: "Are you kidding? After everything that happened last time, you're still going after the Heart of Etheria? And you're helping her?" Castaspella: "We're trying to free the magic for all of Etheria so we can be strong enough to fight Prime. I'm doing this for your father and for you. Shadow Weaver is the lesser of two evils."

I love that she says this right in front of Shadow Weaver. Like "girl I hate her too"

nice

okay ngl I have mixed feelings about this one because unfortunately she's not entirely wrong here but also, shut the fuck up

(something something people are responsible for their own actions but also she wouldn't have done all that godawful shit if Shadow Weaver hadn't been such a shitty parent)

but yeah Catra gets up like she's about to fucking throw some hands and Adora's like It's okay bb

;_;

but also they do need the information Shadow Weaver and Castaspella have

so it turns out Mystacor was built on top of a First Ones' citadel? huh

Castaspella: "Beneath Mystacor, there are many secret tunnels and rooms, forgotten and sealed off. No one has been able to access them in centuries, but there are whispers of what they contain." Shadow Weaver: "An artifact known as the Crystal of Arxia, hidden there by a group of traitorous First Ones." Castaspella: "You said I could do it!"

lol they bicker like old marrieds

Adora: "If you figured it out on your own, why come back here? Why do you need us at all?" Shadow Weaver: "Because Mystacor is controlled by Micah, who, you may recall, is controlled by Horde Prime."

they've been TRYING

"If he seizes the Heart, it will all be over."

Stop toUCHING HER

oh god Adora turns around to ask Catra to help out--and she's gone

YOU'RE THE REASON SHE'S FUCKING "SULKING" and you fucking know it, why are abusers always so god damned surprised to find out their kids don't want to be anywhere near them

(I mean I know why, they think they should be able to control you forever)

aaahahaha Adora's just like Nah I'mma go look for her tho

anyway roll intro!

omg look at Netossa and Spinny on the bottom left awwwww

she looks so sad

well okay sad and angry

their conversation here is so good, because Catra's fully aware of why Adora's doing this, but is really struggling to push past how much she (justifiably!) hates Shadow Weaver and hates being around her

I actually do kinda wish I'd kept a list of all the times Adora does the self-sacrificial thing, separated into "someone asked her to do it" vs "nobody asked her to do it" lol

BUT ADORA EXPRESSES A NEED oh nice that's progress

Adora: "Hey, she can't do anything to us anymore. Please, come. We--I-could really use your help."

two things I really love about this: One, she doesn't say that she doesn't like Adora, just that it's not the reason she's going. Two, I feel like Adora knows damn well Catra's not being 100% honest here.

Like, to some extent Catra's saying this as a way of attempting to protect herself a little. She's taking baby steps towards vulnerability, and it's terrifying! And I think Adora can see that and is fine with it--not JUST because she's like "any crumbs are better than nothing" but ALSO because she doesn't want to push Catra.

Because yeah, if there was any actual doubt that Catra does like Adora--

WELL.

Entrapta was able to get Spinerella's chip out but says it had started fusing with her nervous system and they're running out of time to safely un-chip everyone.

But she's been digging around the network that connects all the chips to Prime, hoping to figure out how to disconnect everyone at once, and Bow gives her a little encouragement, it's really sweet.

OKAY so everyone who can, teleports to Mystacor with Melog making them invisible. (Apparently Catra doesn't get motion sick from it anymore which is nice lol)

I love the way they animated them being invisible

oh GOD okay

Catra turns around and says "looks like there's no sorcerers here" while, unfortunately, a sorcerer walks into the room. Shadow Weaver grabs Catra and puts her hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, and Catra (understandably!! but unfortunately!!) jerks away in fury and yells

And her fury causes Melog to drop the invisibility

And now the chipped sorcerer knows they're all there

they manage to duck the attack but Adora goes to transform into She-Ra--and can't do it

she had this issue last episode aaaugh it's not from being near Shadow Weaver she wasn't there

okay but also Adora runs behind a pillar to hide from an attack with Catra and it's cute

girl help why is this giving me so many emotions

y'know it's funny how often I've bumped into posts of people who are confused as to why Adora starts trusting Catra again so quickly, and I frequently wonder if they forget all the childhood flashback scenes of these two. To varying extents they both spent their entire childhoods seeing the other as their only consistent source of comfort and (something resembling) safety, and with some notable exceptions Adora's spent the last four seasons (which was like three or four years) visibly holding out hope that one day she could trust Catra again. This despite the fact that she now has other sources of safety and comfort and love!!! Being with Glimmer and Bow and everyone else was healing, sure; but it never erased her grief over losing Catra. She always, always held out the tiniest flame of hope that Catra would change sides.

And Catra basically tried lighting her own grief on fire (metaphorically and kinda literally) over and over and it just didn't go away, and I feel like when she saved Glimmer and apologized to Adora she had sort of come to terms with the fact that her grief over losing Adora couldn't be burned away, but of course by then she figured she'd fucked up so bad Adora would never forgive her or trust her again. And rather than take it out on other people or suffer any longer she was willing to just die, instead. She really did think that sending Glimmer to Adora was going to be her last act, and she wanted Adora to know she was sorry before she fucking DIED. And I don't think her saving Glimmer was consciously meant to be proof that she meant her apology, but it was. And that's part of why Adora trusts her again.

The fact is, even after everything that happened, both of them had a hole in their hearts shaped like the other. ;_;

And that's why Adora runs and hides behind the same pillar as Catra. (I mean yes, it was also closer, but that's not tHE POINT)

Anyway, this is all why, as I previously noted, Adora's not being pushy. That failed on her, spectacularly; the couple of times she tried it. Asking Catra to come along on this mission is the closest she's come. And even then, it wasn't "you're a good person deep down and you should change sides because I think I know you better than you know yourself," It was "please do this for me, because I need your help." And Catra is fully aware of how hard that is for Adora.

And these two still have a lot to work out post-canon (like, Catra has still got to deal with her need to not just be seen as Adora's sidekick/shadow, and lbh right now some of the rebellion is like "we're only putting up with you for Adora's sake" as if Catra was Yoko Ono) but that's part of why I'm writing a fic lolol

I have so many feelingssss on a related note I spent like fifteen solid minutes last night in bed having taken an edible and listening to my playlist and staring at this gifset lolol

ANYWAY Castaspella knocks out the chipped dude and they run for it

AAAND lol I gotta get ready to go to church. There's still 17:30 left on this episode. Pfft.

BACK FROM CHURCH I washed someone's feet, they washed mine, they stripped the altar, I go back at one or two in the morning for the overnight vigil

In the meantime: gonna finish this episode

(what is my life sometimes)

Entrapta plans to find a bunch of clones so she can figure out how their signals to Horde Prime work. Swift Wind is like Ugh, fine, I'll go with you, someone's gotta save your ass

Entrapta: "Thanks, bird horse!"

lol how many times have they had that convo

A family can be a sorcerer and her evil ex, a girl and a boy, two traumatized lesbians, and a cat

But also it looks like something out of an episode of Scooby Doo

Shadow Weaver opens a magic door

ngl that's PRETTY. like it's obviously about the Heart of Etheria but wow!

(and there's a dinosaur???)

Adora notices how stressed out Catra is and says "It'll be okay...Trust me." ;_;

Shadow Weaver: "There's no time to waste!"

"...disturbance."

The disturbance was your fault, dumbass. I am reminded of all the times my dad got angry at us for being afraid of him. And would hit us. For being. Afraid of him. Because y'know. That's how you stop a kid from being afraid of you. By hitting them.

In any case Shadow Weaver is still trying to get between them and separate them and I just really need this bitch to stop.

(Yes yes I remember she dies later)

Castaspella: "We're on the right path. The Crystal of Arxia was rumored to be the key to reaching deep magic within Etheria."

"But those who hungered for more power have long sought other ways to obtain the deep magic...with disastrous results."

HIT THE IMAGE LIMIT lemme reblog

[idrellegames]

Wayfarer Dev Log 2023.03.06

Hi friends!

It’s been a while since my last proper update in January. I am recovered from illness and mostly back to normal; with the days getting longer and actually having sunlight now, it’s easier to stay focused than it was in the winter. A lot of developments have happened in the interim, so I’m hoping this dev log will serve to get you caught up on things I’ve been keeping under wraps until now.

✦ New Blog Reveal

My blog’s desktop theme has been redesigned and updated! Huge thank you to @ethereal-themes for taking this on, I am in love with the new look.

Desktop theme

About

Navigation (with updated tags!)

FAQ

Character Roster (updated with Episode 2 characters + sortable, including by romance type)

These pages cannot be viewed in the tumblr mobile app, but they can be viewed by inputting the link into your mobile browser. Mobile versions of the updated FAQ information and tag list are forthcoming.

Many thanks to @memaidraws for my new blog portrait of Alexia. 💕

Additionally, I am no longer tracking the tag "wayfarer" for community content. The tag has become overrun with bots that makes it very difficult to filter. If you've created something you'd like me to see, please use the "wayfarer if" tag or tag my blog!

✦ The Public Build

A new patch should be coming sometime in March to fix lingering bugs and issues in Episode 2. This patch will require a full restart of the game. Once it releases, you should not use old saves otherwise you may encounter continuity errors and bugs in later episodes.

✦ The Alpha Build

Work on the next alpha update is progressing. I am still writing slower than I usually do, but I am coming up on the end of a major branch. There should be a new alpha release later in March that will cover one half of Episode 3 Part 1.

Even though not all possible routes will be included, the update will add over 300,000 words of new playable content to the game.

✦ Development Changes

Until recently, Wayfarer was planned to be a free game. This is no longer the case. Though I am not ready to announce the full details yet, the game will be eventually be moving to a free demo + paid full game model later in its development cycle.

Act 1 (which includes the Prologue and Episodes 1-3) will remain free to play. Future pricing for non-Patreon early access to later episodes while the game is in development is TBD.

Because this change impacts some behind-the-scenes things, I am need to gauge how much of Wayfarer’s playerbase plays the game on their phone versus a computer.

If you would like to help me out, check out this poll here and let me know what device you regularly play on!

✦ Wayfarer 2023 Pin-Up Calendar

The Wayfarer Calendar is now closed! A huge thank you to our contributing artists and everyone who donated. Altogether, we raised $1094.54 USD. These proceeds were donated today to the Astraea Lesbian Foundation for Justice.

I am so honoured that the calendar was a huge hit. On behalf of our organizers, I would like to thank everyone for their passion and excitement for this project. It’s too soon to announce whether we will do something like this again for next year, but there may be another calendar on the horizon…

If you’ve enjoyed Wayfarer, used my tutorials, or would like to support my work, please consider supporting me on Patreon. Patrons receive access to the alpha build, a private Discord server, exclusive previews, bonus content, side stories, and other benefits.

(Please note that if you are pledging solely for access to the alpha build, the alpha and the public build currently contain the same content.)

Wayfarer is a passion project and creating it is a full-time commitment. Any little bit goes a long way to help me bring it to fruition.

If you aren’t in a position to support financially, reblogs, shares, ratings and comments, and spreading the word about the game are much appreciated and do a lot to help me out! 💕

[mommypills]

Life is Strange Rewrite

HELLO CHAT. i know it's been entirely too long since i've posted anything but i feel like i need to get this out somewhere besides in my poor friends' dms. i have no idea how active the LiS tags are, but it matters not; i am ready to unleash my super autism upon whoever is willing to read this post!

you've read the title, i assume. i started rewatching a playthrough of LiS and BtS fairly recently, though i've been a fan since... well... a while. at least since 2018, perhaps earlier. i will admit, i wasn't quite in tune with the story during those years because i was a young child. simply put, i grew up with this series—thank you for introducing me to these awkward lesbians, ma—and had almost no outside opinions to consider.

enter 2024 hal with internet access and a dozen friends who don't mind discussing things with me. i have one friend who has a distaste for the game and was in the same boat with me until somewhat recently. to keep it short, they don't like chloe because of all the things she's done throughout the entire game; especially the options where you choose to go against her. i have probably given chloe the benefit of the doubt for years due to my heavy relating to her character... unfortunately.

as you would guess, i consider myself a writer. i do writer things, like stare at a google doc for 30 minutes and wonder when my brain will finally let me get words on there. and because i am many more steps above my younger self in terms of writer brain, chloe's character confuses me to a curiously dog-shaped degree. i am conflicted. yes, her father died and max left her around that time, but would that justify or even make sense how she became the chloe in LiS? on the other hand, it makes sense. i have seen what happened to her happen to someone else. that gradual change, being stuck in the past whereas everyone has moved on, not having a support group, being infinitely lonely, falling into the deepest depths of the crevice of your brain... i understand; more so than the average LiS fan.

(if you're rory, my wife, stop reading from here, please <3 until we finish that watchalong)

i have always chalked chloe up as the sensitive type. she would never admit it, but i've always seen her as someone who is highly reactive to her environment. she took the death of her dad and max's departure disastrously, she was absolutely distraught when rachel was stabbed, she took rachel's death horribly, plus at any sign of "you will die" danger she immediately becomes rigid. i could just be unreactive, but this all seems to be signs of an environmentally sensitive individual—not to mention her general behavior when talking to max about the incident in the BtS DLC! i could just be misremembering that, though, so take that with a grain of salt. one could also interpret her being dependent on max—even before her dad's death—and later rachel. also she?? basically has hallucinations of her dad???? i guess???? why does nobody talk about that wtf

apologies, i went a little bit off-topic. my point in the last two paragraphs is that i am completely on the fence about chloe as a character. she is both liked and hated, and she is supposed to be a character we would be willing to sacrifice an entire town for. for some people, the bay vs bae option was obvious, whether it was because they hated chloe or adored her. here is the horrendous segue because i don't know how to connect this thought and the next.

i began to think: what if i were to rewrite life is strange and before the storm?

i'll give you some information and talking points on what i have currently (minus some bullet points i've omitted because they're not ready for the world) and you will tell me whether i should keep cooking or stop before i burn the building down.

BEFORE THE STORM

// change rachel's situation with her parents. make her justifiably hate her dad and make her go to her biological mother to tell the truth, i don't really get rachel's whole thing about her parents. it hurts to be lied to in general, but rose is the woman that raised you lil bro. i would get it if she were mistreated, but she wasn't. no reason to have the story based around that when it doesn't make sense, so let's switch it up. the easiest way to do this would be to make them abusive. make her think that things would be better if her bio mother stayed and/or if she met up with her (this would turn out wrong when they find out that she is an addict, and does a little bit of #manipulation.) not canon in the games, but making her biological mother a bad person would be very poetic. there could be an episode dedicated to chloe trying to pull rachel away from her bio mother because shes ass tm. and this transitions into my next idea...

// make chloe the "i can fix her" type, the residue of herself from before her father died. hell, make her character a bit different from the LiS 1 chloe! maybe have her be a combination of pre-william death chloe and post-william death chloe. this portion was initially "make it take place a year or two after william's death" but then i realized that it DOES take place approximately two years after. so, i'm changing this point to being "make it take place 6 months to a year after his death" so we can explore her character more. by the end of this, make chloe further traumatized. or at the very least, make all these events impact her so much that she ends up becoming the woman she is in LiS 1... of which some people in-game would describe her as "broken" or "irreversibly damaged" (i wrote this before learning that rachel's dad actually said this about her, by the way! jesus, man.) and make the thing longer than 3 damn episodes.

LIFE IS STRANGE

// make max and chloe parallel chloe and rachel, except their relationship gets less and less problematic as time goes on rachel's relationship with chloe is... certainly something. i don't have any strong opinions on amberprice, but what i DO know is that rachel is chloe's BIGGEST enabler and absolutely contributed to why she's like the way she is. she's like the devil on your shoulder saying "burn down that orphanage" except chloe doesn't have an angel on the other side. the thing that makes max different from chloe in BtS is that she is the "i can help her" type. all for therapy and shit. make them both go to therapy actually. perhaps even have a duo counseling scene where they air things out and finally forgive both themselves and each other. genuinely have no idea why therapy was never seriously included in any LiS game so far considering the kind of shit they go through.

and that is it! thank you for sitting through this hefty wall of text. i am infinitely sorry for yapping, but i'm just an autistic little lesbian who loves these dorky ass weirdos. i will not take any more of your time—this is where the post ends.

i was not eating those beans☹️

[windona]

For prompting night: a choice between 'Sokka discovers social media' (which would probably be a disaster lol) or 'a council of avatars probably not providing the best advice' (you know why). lol

Aang sighed. He had run all over the world, learned well from the monks, but he was no expert in politics and economics. Yet he was one of the few people who understood what a world at peace actually looked like, and the few who could be looked at as a trustworthy authority to all nations.

For a given value of trustworthy, Aang supposed.

Despite everyone looking at him, Aang knew he was not an expert at bureaucracy and politics and money. Luckily, he knew some who were.

He meditated, and looked as his past lives from the previous cycle spread out in front of him.

Roku looked to the side, then at him. "You require our advice, Aang?"

Aang nodded. "The Republic is a new and fragile experiment. There is also the peace between the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom at stake. They keep on talking about tax rates and trade routes, and I know they are important, but even Toph only knows so much about how it works and what's fair. Representatives are at each other's throats and getting ready to fight over it. What do I do?"

Roku stroked his beard. "Be decisive. Make sure that they settle on a plan, and stick to it."

Kuruk shook his head. "No, it sounds like they are just making threats to get more concessions. I know going with the flow was my biggest mistake, but people will work things out if you let them."

Kyoshi nodded sharply. "Be the end of diplomacy if you have trouble with politics. Working out solutions and deals are their job, their training. If they fail, come in full force as a threat to remind them the price of failing in their duty."

Yangchen shook her head. "No, you need to actively shape your destiny and the destiny of the world. Aang, make use of any assets and spies you have. If you have none, try developing a network so you have access to accurate information and know what pressure to apply. Keep a few cover identities in case one loyal to you is burned, or needs a new cover identity."

The other three looked at her. She raised an eyebrow back in challenge.

Coughing, Roku turned back. "Perhaps you should ask the Fire Avatar before me, Avatar Szeto."

"Would he understand the laws and regulations of Aang's time?" Kyoshi frowned.

"He would be better equipped than us."

Aang tilted his head. "Avatar Szeto? Didn't he write laws or something?"

"'Or something'. Through my reforms, the Fire Nation was able to achieve stability, and they were adopted elsewhere." Aang turned around to see another of his past lives. "My skill lies in administration. Tell me, Aang, what trials do you face?"

Much later, everyone would remark in amazement as Avatar Aang managed to make a deal that would encourage economic growth within the Republic, Fire Nation, and Earth Kingdom areas that traded with each other.

[dbh-bb]

Yet More Questions

As we come up to the final sign up deadline for Artists we've been receiving a lot of questions about how much we expect by June 1st, so we wanted clarify some information for both artists and writers

ARTISTS

Oh my god, how much do I have to have ready to submit by 01 June? What will the form ask for?

The form will ask you to submit the following things:

Identifying info (obvs), including whether you are a minor

Your willingness to be paired with a minor

A sketch, layout, or concept of your art

The premise of your concept for the story

Ratings you’d be happy with on the story

Things you really don’t want to see in the story

Let’s break down a few of those.

Sketch, layout, or concept of your art: 

This should be substantial enough to get your idea across to the writer. It does not have to be finished or near-finished (although it can be if you’re there). If you work in a medium that takes significant time to generate, or where the concept of a “sketch” is hard to apply (such as 3D render art, gifs, or fanvids), do your best to express what the idea is. This could include a storyboard, a rough sketch, stick figures, and/or references/examples to show what you mean. We want the writers to get the general idea of what the final art will look like.

We will ask these submissions to be in standard formats (i.e. .png, .jpg, .gif, etc) that can be accessed on anyone’s computer without the use of special software. Your final art can be in your preferred format.

There will also be a text box where you can describe what the final art will be, like you might for an alt-text.

Premise of your concept for the story:

Artists aren’t just sharing a sketch, they’re sharing the concept behind that sketch. The concept of your story should be enough to give your writer a good direction to head in, without being so limiting that you’re ‘ordering’ a story rather than planting an idea. Yes, you can give ideas for bits of dialogue, and scenes, and major story beats and character dynamics. We want you to be either providing a jumping off point that a writer can build from, or full on working with the writer to tell a story. You need to give them enough that they can write ten thousand words from it, so we want more than the idea for the scene you are depicting yourself and a pairing.

That being said, this isn’t an opportunity to demand a very specific story out of a writer; that’s called a commission. There should still be room for the author to help shape the story as well. As Atro said, you’re giving them the blueprints; they’re building the house.

Things you don’t want to see in the story:

This is where you can let writers know anything you really don’t want added to the story. Including your personal specific do-not-wants is a way to help writers pick which stories they want to bid for. For example: “No X/Y, I prefer X and Y as platonic,” or “Please no background A/B.”

Keep two things in mind: first, writers are not allowed to add any of the AO3 Big Four to a story unless the artist suggests it first. Second, we do expect writers to work with the artist’s concept. So you don’t need to list out every single possible thing you don’t want.

What if my idea is risque, or even extreme?

We’ll make sure you get into the version not provided to minors, and you’ll have the same space to explain your concept as everyone else. Sometimes having a more extreme concept makes it harder to find a writer …but sometimes, you find that one person who does see your vision! All we ask is that you remain flexible in case the idea has to evolve to find you a match.

I’m not a writer. How much do they need for 10,000 words?

In writing terms, 10k and up is a novelette or a novella — either way, a short novel. Significantly, this will introduce plot. Now sometimes people think “plot means an entire movie” and it might not — sometimes the plot is “X and Y on a date.” Sometimes the plot is porn. But 10,000 words gives you both room to play with moving pieces. 

Example for artists who don’t write: Let’s use a very generic concept: a heist fic. You want the Jericrew on a heist. THESE ARE ESTIMATES DONT COME AT ME based on mods being old enough to remember when a drabble was 100 words exactly, but in general:

~3000 words will get you a scene. A dramatic scene or a confrontation! Cool! But a single scene.

5000-7000 words is a bit of the plot. Maybe the heist itself. Or a bit after the heist. More details, some repercussions.

~10,000 words will cover… let’s say planning the heist, executing it, and a bit of what comes after. 

A full mystery novel is usually 70,000-90,000 words. 

I’ve seen heist fics that break 200K.

This is why the minimum is 10,000 words — we want to generate deeper works where things happen. And the artists get to start the process this year. For those of you who wanted to make multiple arts and are limited by our writer count: this is your chance to think of other artworks you’d like to make within this concept!

WRITERS

How much information / freedom am I going to have?

First: We ask that writers do not add any of the AO3 Big Four to a story unless the artist suggests it. 

Second, see above for the information artists are being invited to share, to get a feel for it.

Third: There will be a variety of offers to choose from. Some artists might have a much more vague concept, while others might have a lot of the story in their head already. Remember that writers get to pick in this scenario. So if you prefer jumping into a fully-formed idea, look for those. If you prefer a less-firm idea where you can really collaborate with your partner to flesh it out, look for those. 

Artists are expected to understand that their concept is a suggestion, not a commission. So even if an artist sounds like they have a narrow view of the story they want, they know that they need to work with their writer to make it belong to both of you. Even at low levels of collaboration, we’ve seen this work out so that both contributors can be happy. So if there’s an idea you love but/and have suggestions for, go for it — there’s a good chance your artist will be happy with all your enthusiasm.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

J Is Just A Letter

Chapter 6 - Adler

Lady Smallwood had requested his presence. Mycroft couldn’t deny that it irritated him somewhat, but he did have a duty to keep people informed of the situation in some capacity, he certainly wasn’t going to admit to a known spy and general nuisance straddling him the night before.

‘You’ve called off the search for J, any reason for it?’ Smallwood asked, sitting at her desk unimpressed. Mycroft decided he didn’t want to risk anyone being able to read his body language when talking about her, so he stood at the window and looked out at the view of London below.

‘She made contact last night,’ Mycroft said, musing. ‘She is no longer in danger and an agreement has been reached, one where we will be able to utilise her knowledge and skills.’

‘And what did we have to give up for that?’ Smallwood and the several other council members who were observing, shifted, listening closer.

‘She only wants to open one door.’ He said, trying to extract the words from the memory and not dwell on the circumstances themselves. ‘I’ve told her I will be checking in once a week, she will prove her worth and I will find out which door she wants to open and why. I will not allow her access to state secrets if I can help it.’

‘If you can help it?’

‘She’s a difficult woman to deal with,’ they couldn’t understand the reality of that statement. ‘But not impossible. Patience is key and gaining her trust is vital, but I believe the gain outweighs the loss considerably.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Certain.’

While the council began talking amongst themselves, Mycroft took a moment to think on what he just said, he needed to be sure that the gain was for Britain and not just himself. Of course, if she just wanted one night with him then it could be arranged easily enough, Mycroft would be more than willing to give into her, but if he could extract information from her at the same time than maybe he could convince himself that he really did have the best intentions for the country.

He excused himself from the meeting, idly stating he had work to do and returned to his office. Anthea had given him enough work to occupy himself with for the time being.

Mycroft sat down in the confines of his office and thought on what had happened the night before. He’d never felt so exhilarated in all his life, he’d had a couple of girlfriends whilst at university, the odd encounter at some gala or another, he’d thought those encounters had been heated, but the truth was that she could make him feel more without even kissing him than any woman had made him feel by sleeping with him.

He wondered where the cut on her lip had come from, the bruising on her wrist, he should have asked, shown how observant he could be, she’d like that, she’d like that he was taking her in in such detail. He was aware that she’d barely let out a moan, but the noises she made whilst on top of him were far more beautiful than he’d ever heard before. Mycroft thought on it a little too long, but reminded himself that she was a lustful creature, not a loving one. This was all a game to her, one big show.

He prepared himself over the next few days to check in with her and ask her a question about an operation he was working on, he knew she’d spent some time in Berlin and so would therefore have picked up wind of a few things he might have needed to know.

Lady Smallwood was still asking the terms of the agreement, but Mycroft wasn’t in any mood to tell her a single thing. He just dismissed her and told Anthea to keep everyone out until he was ready. He would need the time to play this right.

Mycroft loosened his tie, he took his suit jacket off and sat back in his chair, mentally preparing himself for what was about to happen.

Two rings.

‘Mycroft.’ She sighed. ‘Is this the first check in?’

‘It is.’

‘Fine. Business first, pleasure second.’

‘The way it should always be.’

‘Until you mix the two together, of course.’ She was teasing him, testing him. Already the memory of her lips grazing his was returning, the feel of her pulse thumping hard under his mouth, it was more arousing than he’d counted on and he took a deep breath to refocus himself.

‘What do you know about our operation in Berlin?’

‘Which one?’

‘Operation Cherry.’

There was a strange pause on the other end of the phone. He could her something akin to soft material rubbing together, if he had to guess, he’d say she was currently sitting in bed.

‘If this is the way you want to do this, can we just assume that I know everything about every operation you’re running?’

Mycroft let a slow breath out. ‘Fine. We aren’t going to stop the cargo from being taken, instead we’d like to intercept the hand off. Where is the meeting point?’

She paused once again and Mycroft listened to the soft sound of her breathing. ‘Lebus is the most likely point for exchange.’

‘Lebus?’

‘It’s about an hour and a half east of Berlin on the Polish border. You’ll find the hand off at the fork in the road between Schulstraße and Oderstraße. But they’ll be taking precautions.’

‘We can handle a security detail.’

‘I’m sure you can.’

Mycroft paused, he remembered the other part of the deal, she was to choose a topic of conversation, he was dreading it, but he was also excited by it.

‘I suppose that’s the business end of this conversation over.’ Mycroft sighed. ‘What would you like to talk about?’

‘What did you do after I left a few nights ago?’

‘Nothing. I finished my work and went to bed.’

‘Is that it?’

‘Was there something you were hoping I would be doing?’

‘Indulging.’ The way she said the word had his chest inflating suddenly. In truth, he’d thought about it, but somehow he couldn’t bear the thought of coming without her.

‘No, I showered instead.’ Mycroft felt a little ashamed. ‘What did you do?’

‘I went back to work.’

‘So, no indulging for you either then?’

‘I’m afraid not. I had rather hoped we could have done that together.’

Mycroft swallowed thickly. The thought on it’s own was making his sitting position uncomfortable.

‘How did it feel?’

‘What?’

‘To have me on top of you.’

Mycroft didn’t know how to answer. ‘It was certainly an experience.’

‘Well that much was obvious,’ she chuckled. ‘But tell me how it made you feel.’

Mycroft swallowed thickly. ‘Warm.’

‘Warm?’

‘What’s wrong with warm?’

‘Nothing, but I had hoped for more than a four letter word.’

Mycroft thought for a moment. ‘Indulgent.’ He settled on.

‘Hmm, now there’s a word I like to hear you say. You have a fantastic vocabulary, Mr Holmes. I do hope I get to reap the benefits one day.’

‘I’m sure you’ll drag it out of me, much like you have with other things.’

‘What things?’

Mycroft was silent.

‘I’m in bed at the moment,’ she said, noting his reluctance to speak. ‘I’m looking out of the window and wondering why on earth I’m still alone at this time of night.’

‘Night?’

‘I told you, I had work to do.’ She was getting out of bed, going outside, he could hear the cool breeze. ‘Indulge me. Ask me what I’m wearing.’

Mycroft glanced towards his office door, it was soundproof, no one could hear him. ‘What are you wearing?’

‘Nothing.’ She whispered. Mycroft had to adjust his position in his chair, his trousers were tight. ‘Mmmm, the breeze feels nice against my skin.’ He could see it, he could see the way her body was reacting, it was so clear in his mind. ‘The view is beautiful. Would you watch it with me?’

‘I would.’ He could hear the shake in his own voice, giving himself away.

‘Would you kiss me?’

‘Yes.’ His voice was turning into a whisper as well.

‘Would you touch me?’

Mycroft sucked in a deep breath, all he could see was the black and white photo, the one of her beside the bedpost. Waiting for him. He could suddenly hear a soft beeping, unsure of if it was from outside his office or from her end.

‘Well?’

‘I would.’ He said, lowly.

‘Where?’

‘Wherever you want.’

‘Wherever I want?’

Mycroft closed his eyes. ‘Wherever I want.’ He adjusted his wording.

‘And where do you want to touch me?’

Mycroft swallowed thickly, his breathing was completely disrupted, he was verging on panting, how could she do this to him just by talking?

‘Everywhere.’ He breathed. He listened to her take her own deep breath and bite her lip, he knew her pulse would be pounding against her skin by now. ‘Racing.’ He whispered.

‘Yes.’ She breathed. The beeping sound got a little louder and he heard the hitch in her breathing, like a fly in the ointment. ‘It’s been a pleasure, Mr Holmes. Until next time.’

‘Until next time.’ Mycroft repeated.

J hung up the phone and left Mycroft feeling empty once again. Whatever the beeping was, it demanded her attention and he felt a sudden and vicious hatred for it. Mycroft took the time to refocus himself, prepare to face the company outside of his office and at least look like he wasn’t pining after an enemy of the state.

‘And she just gave you this information?’ Lady Smallwood asked, they stood in the surveillance room watching the hand off occur of the precious cargo.

‘She’s proving her worth.’ Mycroft said, cryptically, Not taking his eyes off the screen.

‘What did we have to give her in exchange?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing?’

‘Nothing yet.’ Mycroft corrected himself. They watched the hand off get disrupted, the team went in and secured the precious cargo and the infiltration cells and the operation was over before it really go started. ‘Once I’ve learnt which door she wants open, we will know more about J than ever before, but unfortunately, she will see it coming. Patience will be needed.’

‘She thinks she’s getting a special key card that opens every secure door in the country?’ Smallwood scoffed. ‘Dear lord, what kind of childish fantasies is this girl living in?’

‘There is of course the possibility that she will anticipate our every move and with her resources it’s hard to say who will be living in who’s fantasy, Lady Smallwood.’ Mycroft turned towards her finally. ‘Best leave her to me for the time being. She wanted my attention, now she’s got it. Time to see what she’ll do with it.’

‘You’re sure you know what you’re doing?’

Mycroft just gave her a glare as if to ask if she was seriously asking him that question.

In the next few weeks, Mycroft found that J’s knowledge of things she should be completely unaware of, far exceeded anything he’d ever imagined. She knew dates and times of terrorist cells, hideouts of drug lords, code names and words that seemed so insignificant and out of context, Mycroft wondered if she got it right. When he put all this information into place, it was right. He had a new admiration for her, one that had him secretly begging for her to pay him another visit.

Their conversations were always conducted in two parts, business first, pleasure second. But the pleasure part of the conversation was often interrupted and increasingly often dismissed by J, claiming she needed to get to work, but not before she had ignited him, not before she had made his body react to her simple breathing or tiny noise that told him everything he needed to know. On one occasion, he was sure he could hear her panicking, panting hard and possibly running. He wondered if there was something more going on that he was unaware of.

Mycroft had no reason to call her one week, no pressing operation or case to ask her about, but he was growing concerned. He got into the back of his car and looked down at his phone, debating whether he should call her, it was the right time to do so, same time every week, like clockwork. Even if it was just to indulge in her voice for a while then he would do that, he wasn’t keeping up with his end of the bargain and he couldn’t risk losing her as an asset. At least that was what he told himself.

He took a breath as the car started up and went to dial the number he had memorised, but a message popped up instead.

J: Postpone your call tonight. I have work to do.

Mycroft frowned at the message. She rarely ever text, she liked to hear his voice, she liked listening to the effect she had on him.

MH: For how long?

J: One hour, this won’t take long.

MH: One hour it is.

Mycroft wanted to run a trace on the number, but he’d done it before and come up short, there was no reason to suspect she was even in the country.

He drove through London thinking about the week he’d had and how boring it had been, but if he had cared to look out of the window driving down one particular street, he would have noticed the one thing that sucked the boring out of his life. J walking into Irene Alder’s London home. Mycroft didn’t look up, if he had, she might not have stepped through the front door at all, he may well have convinced her to join him in the back of the car and that point, anything could have happened. Anything that wasn’t boring.

She stepped into the beautiful London home and inhaled the scent of leather, Irene was a woman of taste, impeccable taste. In another life, they might have been friends.

‘She’s with a client.’ The woman’s whose name J could never remember, spoke from the end of the hallway. ‘She won’t be much longer. There’s tea waiting in the lounge.’

J nodded, carrying her clutch close to her waist, she entered into the lounge and made herself comfortable. She was annoyed that she needed to postpone Mycroft’s call, she wanted to hear his voice, it had been far too long since she listened to his soft breathing, his every little movement of his lips, his tongue coming out the lick them, his throat making a soft gulping noise when she really teased him.

It was another five minutes before Irene was finished with her client, it was obvious from what J had seen that it was one of the royals, but she couldn’t care less who, she was there for more important reasons.

‘Well, who slapped you the wrong way?’ Irene said as she entered wearing her usual lace robe and little else. She was a stunningly beautiful woman and J wasn’t one to deny it. ‘Should’ve used the other side of the hand, back hands are never much fun in my opinion.’

‘Nor mine.’ J felt the flare in her cheek, the bruise that Irene was referring to.

‘No, you prefer a more delicate touch,’ she said, pouring herself some tea. ‘Firm, but delicate.’

J just observed her and knew exactly what the first move would be.

‘Is Mr Holmes everything you hoped he would be?’

J said nothing.

‘I’m just curious.’ Irene shrugged, settled in the chair on the other side of the lounge and sipped her tea. ‘I can’t say I understand your fascination, but I’m not one to judge taste.’

‘Clearly not.’ J took a mouthful of tea, before diving into her clutch and pulling out a memory stick. ‘I heard you were looking for some things, a little information on several important figures in the French election. I’m more than happy to give it to you.’

‘In exchange for?’

‘A truce.’ J made her position clear. ‘It’s either you or Jim whose chasing me, I didn’t work it out for a while, but after tugging on a few of your strings, the chase became more dangerous.’

‘So, that was you in Berlin?’ Irene said, intrigued. ‘I have to say I was exceptionally impressed with Mycroft’s ability to anticipate where my boys would drive, but it makes sense now, it wasn’t Mycroft at all, it was you.’

‘It was.’ J nodded, she wanted to add that Irene should probably avoid using the same men twice if she didn’t want to get caught again, but there was no point now. ‘But I can’t afford for those small victories to cost me so dearly. So, this is my proposal. A trade. A truce. I have what you need for the election, every piece of it, all I need is the key code.’

‘What key code?’

‘We can play it that way if you want, but it won’t end well.’ J shot back immediately.

Irene thought for just a moment before knowing J was serious.

‘Fine.’ She said. ‘I don’t have it, but I know how to get it.’

J nodded and put the memory stick back in her clutch.

‘I see.’ Irene leaned forward, elbows on her knees. ‘I’ll have it brought here within the hour.’

‘Best make it in the next thirty minutes, I have other people to visit today.’

‘You mean one other person.’ Irene raised her eyebrow.

J just gave a coy smile. ‘No. I mean people. Some of us are not so fortunate to spend more time on pleasure than business.’

‘No, I suppose not.’ The two women hadn’t broken eye contact since the start of the conversation. Irene only did so to make a phone call and get the code that would open the one door J needed to access, but after that there was a peace between them. ‘Apologies about the back hand, I did tell them not to break the skin. Did you put ice on it?’

‘Yes, this was as good as it got.’

Irene nodded while they waited, both of them getting comfortable again.

‘What’s he like?’

‘Who?’ J frowned suspiciously.

‘Mycroft Holmes, of course, I imagine if we’re calling a truce to this little game then there’s no real reason we can’t be friends.’ Irene sat back and drank some more of her tea. She was right, if they were no longer enemies then perhaps there was room for them to be casual acquaintances.

‘I don’t think friendship is really an option, Miss Adler.’ J smirked. ‘Neither help nor hinder, we stay out of each other’s way.’

‘Absolutely, you’re not the only one whose suffered because of this little feud. Neither help nor hinder.’ She agreed. ‘Now tell me why you find him so fascinating.’

J smiled, Irene was nothing if not a woman of her word. ‘I think you do yourself a disservice. The Iceman, that’s what Jim calls him. Ever seen a man made of ice, melt in front of your eyes? Almost makes everything else worth it.’

‘So, it really is a game?’ Irene clarified. ‘Here I thought you were catching feelings.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ J scoffed. ‘I’m just passing the time.’

The key code arrived only a few minutes later and the deal with complete. Irene had the information she’d been seeking for months and J had access to the door. Finally, this nightmare would be over for them both.

Once J was in possession of what she needed, she had another stop to make before heading home for the first time in six years.

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Mycroft Holmes Masterlist

[juicevedainwerriee]

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[greatwyrmgold]

A lot of stories with nonverbal characters will give them some sort of character arc about gaining the "courage" or whatever to speak. Sometimes this is an explicit goal of the character or their friends, sometimes it just happens over time. Either way, it's annoying at best. (See this post about Komi-san Can't Communicate for more information.)

I'm pretty sure Shizuka Yoshimoto from The 100 Girlfriends Who Really [...] Really Love You won't do that. Her introductory episode ends with Rentaro finding a text-to-speech app that she can use to communicate, which is a lot more convenient than her previous method of nonverbal communication (flipping to a relevant passage in her favorite novel and pointing to it).

Shizuka getting a better tool for communication isn't a problem, of course. But I'm not sure how to feel about the series's use of that tool. It's basically just used as an excuse for Shizuka to talk like any of the other girls, with basically no problems.

No conversation ever moves past her while she's trying to respond; It only takes her a fraction of a second to select whatever text she wants to say, and everyone follows the script. She never has anyone talk over her on accident, not even Karane, who rarely uses her indoor voice. She always has her phone out, TTS app at the ready. The limitations of the app never impede her ability to communicate clearly. And so on. Hell, in the episode I paused to write this rant, she takes her phone to the pool, so that conversations involving her don't have any unwanted friction.

I'm not saying that Shizuka should be socially paralyzed by the limitations of her accessibility device. But it didn't have to write those limitations away, either. Komi-san's titular character has to pull out her notebook and write with it to communicate, which is sometimes inconvenient or faces difficulty (e.g. if she can't find a pen)...well, until she just talks all the time. Anyways, Shizuka doesn't even need to do that much.

Aside from being a bit more realistic, that little extra bit of friction makes her friends putting up with it mean something. It can be inconvenient for Komi's friends, but they put up with it because they are her friends. Intentional or not, it kinda feels like Rentaro's girlfriends put up with Shizuka because talking with her is never inconvenient, because Rentaro found that app for her to use. And that is just...depressing.

100 [...] Love You doesn't tie Shizuka's character development to her ability to speak out loud, either causatively or symbolically, and that's good. But it also just erases any obstacles her disability might give her, and I don't think that's good.

EDIT: Probably should have added this while it was in the queue, but by the end of that episode, Shizuka's phone ran out of batteries when she was trying to call for help, a problem which was solved by Shizuka vocally crying for help. One step forward, one step back.