#i think my explanation sucks but i can't think a better way to say it sorry anon

[savebylou]

hi cc, what is the idea of you and what are people hating on it?

Hi anon. I will put my answer below because is too long and I'm unable to explain it short.

The idea of you is a book that now is having a screen adaptation on prime, here is the trailer. Acording to the author Robinne Lee she was inspired by a guy in a boyband, here is her quote:

A few years ago, my husband was away on business and I was up late surfing music videos on YouTube when I came across the face of a boy I’d never seen in a band I’d never paid attention to, and it was so aesthetically perfect it took me by surprise. It was like…art. I spent a good hour or so Googling and trying to figure out who this kid was and in doing so I discovered that he often dated older women, and so the seed was planted. When my husband returned a couple of days later, I joked with him that I’d found the perfect guy and I was leaving him and our two kids, “oh, and by the way, he’s half my age.”

So basically initially she was inspired by Harry Styles, here are some tweets of her talking about the character. Then in other interview mentions that is a combination of different guys:

I made him into my dream guy,” she told me, “like Prince Harry, meets Harry [Styles],” plus a couple of ex-boyfriends, a little of her husband, and a dash of Eddie Redmayne.

I think the movie is being controversial because first is inspired by Harry dating older women since he was younger, according to the author the character is 20, but the womaniser image that Harry had and that likes and dates older women and this image started when he was 17, a minor.

This idea of Harry liking older women, just reduce him as an artist just to that image that has been know for the general public is just frustrating. And also in the articles and social media talking about the movie they had been making the comparison between photos of Nicholas and Harry.

Nicholas said this quote about if the character is inspired by Harry Styles:

“We tried to create a character that felt, you know, a kin to Harry in a sense that he’s a younger man dating older women. It was important to create someone who felt new and original and not a shoddy impersonation of this person.”

Anything that mentions Harry Styles will always bring attention and clicks so the promo of the movie know what they are doing, and this is nothing against Nicholas, the book is just inspired by Harry and the movie is promoted with that idea.

Now the second problem is that the songwriter and producer of the album of the movie of this fictional boyband is Savan Kotecha. If you are not aware he is a producer and songwriter and was involved with One Direction since The X Factor and work for the first two albums of the band. Savan is a person not liked in the fandom, because he basically never wanted the boys to be part of the songwriting, he saw the band as this machine, never saw the boys as artists and said awful things about Louis. He is one of the persons responsable that Louis didn't get that much solos, read this transcript for more info.

Savan also in that interview explains that couldn't see the boys as this grown young adults that wanted to write songs, because he knew them since they started and didn't think they would have the ability to do so (he was wrong as we know). So Savan left after the second album, now his association with this movie that is related to Harry and 1D is his way of trying to stay relevant again in the fandom.

This is my perspective, but anyone can have a different POV of what the movie is hated and probably they would explain better than me. Sorry for the long response as you can't see I can't write short answers.

[prettybean]

TEASING COD BOYS (+18)

prompt: you like to tease them

* probably I will continue the konig one 🫥

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Ghost

He has an angry expression on his face and appears prepared to kill anyone who crosses his path. Your panties were revealed by your dress riding up slightly. He knew you were doing it on purpose. With his hands, he grasps your hips, adjusts your clothing, and pushes you towards him. “You better behave, you don't want me to fuck you in front of everyone, do you want it?”

Soap

He's too sweet to get mad at you, but as soon as he sees how you're trying to show him your breasts, you see the bulge in his pants. Bite his lips, before looking around, making sure no one was watching. He brings his hands together and squeezes your tits together. A moan leaves your lips and someone turns in your direction, making you blush. “See love? better not to tease."

Price

During a business meeting, you came up with the idea to gently massage his thigh from behind the table. He glanced at you with a slight blush on his face, and continued to give her soldiers a detailed explanation of the next mission. Your hand moved upwards, touching his bulge, causing the captain to gasp.

He will ensure that everyone hears your moans from his room at the end of the meeting, fucking you hard to release his tension.

Gaz

He can't sit still. Your legs opening slightly while you were talking to his friends made him go crazy. Immediately after your hands caressed your own thighs, he quickly stomped his foot on the floor. Kyle's almost threatening look is immediately noticed by your friend, leading them to decide that it's best to leave. “You were doing it on purpose huh?” You look at him with a teasing smile. “You can only open those legs if my face is between them”.

Graves

He was completing his paperwork and conversing with his colleagues about upcoming enemy actions. Your hands rubbed over his shoulders while he sat. Your weak grinding against Philip was unnoticed by him due to his attentiveness. Or at least you thought so.

He grabbed your wrist and made you sit on him, holding onto your hip with his other hand and causing you to ride his leg in front of everyone. “Do you enjoy playing, huh? I want to have fun too then."

Alejandro

You were just a rookie and he helped you with your weekly training, along with all the other freshmen. “You should go down with your back”.

You followed his advice by arching your back and raising your ass in the air. “Oh Dios mío” you heard him say softly, as you continued to show your ambiguous position. “Okay, let's take a break,” Alejandro said, trying to hide his bulge.

König

He don’t talk to you much, well, he don’t talk at all, which was why you loved teasing him in every possible way. Every time you walked up to him and whispered something dirty to him, you were delighted to see his immediate reaction: he awkwardly walked away and insulted you in German.

Today was one of those days, you leaned close to his ear “I bet you have a huge cock, I mean, I hope so” This was too much for him, he grabbed your wrists with one hand, pushing you against the wall. “Why don't you find out?”

Keegan

You go out for a drink together, order two cold beers and start talking about your day. Keegan seemed focused on his story, but all you could think about was how handsome he was. you poured more beer into the glass, before bringing it to your mouth. You sucked on the top of the bottle, running your tongue against it.

Keegan's speech suddenly stops.

“Fuck, next time you do this I'll make sure my cock is in your mouth.”

[comment-day]

Commenting on Fanfic Themes

Remember when you were in literature class and your teacher was droning on and on and ON about themes, but the only thing you could think of is-

Understandable! Especially when you weren't interested in the book or short story (I'm looking at you "The Awakening" by Kate Chopin).

And if you had a teacher that sucked? Yeah, can completely see why you would snore through the whole explanation of why themes are important. I certainly did!

But at the heart of it, themes are such an important part of all writing! Even fanfic! It's basically just asking yourself the question "What was the story trying to say?" or "What was the point?"

And every story has them, even Fanfic. And you will find that pointing them out often helps you convey to the author what you loved about the fanfic.

Reading a story about a lonely kid getting a dedicated group of found family? Maybe a theme of that is how blood isn't the only kind of family. Or that loneliness is only temporary. Or that the world gets better.

Reading a story where two men who loathe each other fall head over heels in love? Maybe the story was saying that first impressions aren't everything. Or that people change for the ones they love. Or that you can't let pride get in the way of being vulnerable.

So, here is a very simple format for how you can comment on the theme of a story, without having to write a five paragraph high school essay!

"I noticed the theme of _______ throughout this story. When Character did _______ it really highlighted the theme of ________ and I thought it was a really nice touch."

Let me show you an example.

"I noticed the theme of loneliness throughout this story. When Tommy was in a room full of people at the big party, yet was thinking about how he couldn't connect to them, it really highlighted the theme of loneliness and I thought it was a really nice touch."

Congrats! You have now commented on a theme of the fanfic! And I can guarantee it made the author's day. It's really that simple.

"But wait, what if that wasn't a theme the author intended and I just look dumb!" My friend, high school cannot hurt you here. You will not be graded on picking out the correct themes from a piece of fanfic. You aren't trying to be the smartest person in the room and make up groundbreaking theses about Shakespeare, you are just picking out what you loved. You are just saying how the story spoke to you! There is no right or wrong answer. Not even the author's intent can change the way it made you feel.

[webslingingslasher]

i would suck dick for comfort most definitely sorry not sorry

the fact i got all these back to back 😭😭😭

kinda diff but same idea?

smutty content under the cut!

it's funny cause it would blow his mind that, that's what you want.

when it first happens you had a real sucky day and the only thing you felt like you were good at was making peter cum so you're all pouty and miserable watching him mercilessly kill opponents on his computer screen.

rolling your cheek to rest on the back of your hand, your front stretched across his bed.

"can i suck you off?"

you can hear a shout, muffled from his headphones.

'ayeooo, what the fuck?!'

you feel your cheeks warm, peter untucks an ear.

"what'd you say?" he couldn't believe it himself. you've never been so blunt when asking for him. he must have misheard.

you blink innocently, "mute me?"

peter taps his keyboard, you hear another roar, 'ayeoooo!'

"can i suck you off?"

his eyes flick to his bedroom door, his aunt's right outside on the couch. you've never been this risky before, "right now?" you lick your lips, "please?"

peter thinks it over, it should be a no brainer but his nightmare is his aunt knocking on the door while he's in your mouth. it doesn't matter, he'd be an idiot to say no.

"i..." several clicks, his screen goes blank, his headphones tossed on his desk. "yeah, okay." sitting up you grin, making grabby hands when he finally stands. 

"no! where go?" dropping into a pout when he walks towards his door, his fingertips flick the lock, you exhale an 'oh'.

peter raises an eyebrow, "are you okay?"

"no. yes. i feel shitty and i really want to make you cum, is that okay?"

peter cannot think of one scenario it wouldn't be okay.

-------

the second time is like the first, you figured it was a one one time thing, that you were in a funk and needed something to make you feel like you were good, and making peter feel good made you really feel good.

but now, after the third time you still couldn't understand what he was trying to explain, words and numbers going over your head; it felt like your head was about to explode.

your boyfriend's doing the best he can and doesn't deserve your frustration. you can't clear your thoughts, everything swirling in one jumbled mess and his explanations going nowhere. he's moving his mouth but all you hear is static.

all you needed was something to clear your mind, then you could truly focus and be nicer to peter. you needed something that would make you feel good, you needed... peter.

"same idea, you take the mean and multiply it by the val-"

"can i suck you off?"

peter's jaw drops, his eyes flicker from the notebook in front of him to you. "i'm sorry?"

your hand pulls at his waistline, "can i suck you off? i need something to help me focus." he doesn't say anything so you unbutton his pants, shifting in your seat at the kitchen table, preparing to hit the ground when his hands stop you.

"woah, okay, hold on. first off, i'm not sure if sucking my... i'm not sure if doing that will help you focus. second, at the kitchen table?"

nibbling on your bottom lip you shy away, you didn't think he was judging in a mean way, just in a 'he wouldn't do this' way.

"um, yeah, you're right. sorry."

peter doesn't like that you're being shy, watching you pick up a pencil and panic as you try and figure out what you definitely weren't listening to; his mind flashes back to the last time you asked on a whim.

"you doin alright, lovie?"

it's like you jolt away, "oh! um, yeah! just thinking."

"you sure? cause if you need a quick bedroom break i wouldn't mind."

it's like he just offered to take you to the moon. your head flips to him, stars in your eyes.

"really? cause i'm like," you make a line over your head with your hand, "up to here with information overload and i'm being kinda mean and i don't wanna be. i just need to clear my head and i dunno, it made me feel better last time."

when peter first got into the relationship he thought he struck gold. he some how got the prettiest person in the entire school to not only hit on him but like him enough to claim him officially. but he never actually thought about sex logically, because there was no way you would ever want to do that with him, until you reached your boiling limit and with tears in your eyes asked him why he thought you were ugly. then it became very clear you wanted, and like today, sometimes needed him like that.

so when situations like this happen, when he can't even believe it's real cause not even in his wildest dreams would he imagine his life being anything like this, he has no idea how to react. because, what do you mean you need to suck his dick?

"peter?" he's gone silent, you think the offers off the table. "it's okay if you don't feel-"

"i just don't get how it makes you feel any better. i mean, i'd get it if you wanted me to go down on you or if you wanted a quicky but i don't see how getting me off helps you. but if it does, i won't complain."

you can see his point, it does seem kind of odd.

"i think cause whenever you do stuff to me i just kind of get in my head. like, 'do i smell good, do i taste good, did i forget to shave, am i pulling his hair too hard, am i being too loud, too quiet? all those things. but when i do it to you, all i can think about is you and making you happy."

"so... when you..." his hand rotates as he skips over the words, you fill in for him, "suck your dick," he nods, "right, it makes you feel better because suddenly the only thing on your mind is me."

you nod, "correct."

"that's wild." his back hits against the chair, "also, not cool you're all freaked out when we have sex. not liking that."

you grab his shoulders in exclaim, "no! not like that! just, fleeting thoughts, i guess. but ninety eight percent of the time all i can think about is you."

"not risking the two percent?"

"i'd rather not."

"alright," peter knocks on the table, "now we got that out the way, from now on, you can please me whenever you want." he never thought he'd say those words.

"so... now?"

you cheer when your boyfriend stands, he gives you a pointed finger, "just so you know, this isn't something you can use to get yourself out of studying. this is me letting you use my body to help you focus better."

"yeah, yeah, yeah, bedroom, pants off."

------------

after that? psh. he said anytime you wanted and you used that to your advantage. it went from clearing your mind to just doing it cause he said you could.

one night you're stretched across his couch while peter sits in the corner, both of you focused on a movie. suddenly, you remember you have something much more fun to pass the time. sometimes, you forget you can just... do it.

digging your toes into his thigh he pushes them away, "ow," rolling your eyes you poke again. "can i suck you off?" attention caught, "right now?"

"do you think i'm asking in advance?"

"but i'm all comfy and we're more than halfway through the movie, i'm committed now." he doesn't even have to do anything.

"okay, stay there. i'll just go between your legs, then you can still see the tv." you shuffle around until your knees hit the floor, then bringing yourself to peter by pulling on his leg.

"yeah, but, on the couch? i mean, if may-"

you rest your cheek on his knee, his flannel pajama pants ultra soft. "please don't talk about your aunt when i'm about to suck your dick."

"but if we make a mess she'll-"

you hush him, your fingers pulling at his waistband.

"then i'll make sure i don't make a mess."

----------

another night, you spent the night and woke him up after a bad dream. at first he's frazzled but when you express your panic he's wide awake and rubbing your back.

"um, i know you're tired but do you think i could..."

peter's gotten better at reading hints.

he yawns first, then smacks his lips before shuffling his boxers off.

"commit me if i ever say no."



[disneyprincemuke]

midnights, 9 * mv1

max finds out you'd gone to the club with alexandra, making him wonder if it’s really over when pictures of you and another man leak

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings:

notes: nah when i finish this, i WILL be milking the whole series because this is my only breakup outlet left like damN

(series masterlist)

(prev) // (next)

max could not stop thinking of you all day - all week, in fact. ever since a rumour had started going around that he's moving on with another woman, he could only have imagined what it's like for you to see that.

it sucks because he'd just been doing nelson piquet a favour - bringing kelly into the paddocks for a race under his pass. but nothing more ever went down between them.

he could only think of how your hands go cold at the rumour and heart absolutely shattering. he admits that he thought of sending you a text that night, but cowered away at the fear of your rejection for his explanation. maybe you no longer cared about what he's doing with his life.

he knows that because you unfollowed him on instagram and every other social media platform alike. you have even taken it upon yourself to unfollow his private account, his profile riddled with pictures and memories of the two of you together that he has not had the courage to delete just yet.

the only reason that he is aware of your sudden decision to distance yourself from him after the breakup is when he was confused about the notable lack of you on his timeline. when he checked, you were just another account he is now a stranger to.

he believes it was brought about by the dating rumours. because he used to stalk you all the time.

all. the. time.

"max, mate," daniel's voice makes him lift his head, eyebrows raising as a response. daniel's lips carve into a smile before it quickly disappears without anyone else noticing. "i said do you wanna grab some drinks at the bar? charles is already there."

max hesitates. the urge to be alone in his hotel room is real; curling up in bed while he listened to his mellow playlist while he debates once more if he should reach out. but against his better judgement, he nods with a small smile on his face as he starts to follow behind the older man.

"so, how are you feeling?" daniel asks, turning to him with a polite smile as they walk. "better, hopefully?"

with a halfhearted smile, max shrugs. "a little."

"progress is still progress," daniel reassures him with a pat on his shoulder, "it will still get better from here. you know that."

max nods. but there's still a yearning for you that he can't explain or get over. while he can understand that time is needed apart from you, things are not seemingly going towards his favour, or at least the way he wants it to go.

his chances of getting back together with you are slim. he really wants to, but he cannot bear the thought you having to say goodbye to you a second time.

but if he had the chance to do it all over again with you, he’d try to change the course of time if it meant having you back in his arms.

he tries to get you off his mind by moving on to other topics of conversation. but all he can think about is how you could have been here, arm around his waist as you leaned into his body while giggling over something daniel said to you.

you should have been at parc ferme following every race finish with your arms opened wide, welcoming him in for a wide smile and a tight hug.

but you never are.

and it doesn't help that now he's at the bar, there's charles and alexandra exchanging loud conversation about an event she attended back home.

"oh yeah," alexandra laughs unknowingly as they approach, "she was wild that night! she took body tequila shots from this guy! and we'd just met him that night. it was insane."

daniel pops his head between the couple with a lazy smile on his face. "who took body shots from a random guy they met at the bar?"

alexandra whips her head around, locking eyes with max. she laughs nervously as charles puts his hand over her knee. "just my friend back home."

max looks at her knowingly, taking his seat in the opposite booth. "it's (y/n), isn't it?" he asks, looking at the menu. everyone falls silent as he scans the menu for something to drink, prompting him to look up, slightly annoyed. "else, why wouldn't you elaborate to daniel when he asked?"

"hey," charles says, exchanging a glance with alexandra next to him. he squeezes her hand and sits up, leaning towards max. "what's your problem?"

"nothing," max answers in the calmest tone he can find within himself, "it's just odd that she tried to cover it up when it's so obvious." he turns to daniel. "wasn't it?"

daniel stares at him, visibly gulping and then glancing at the couple that sits across them.

"i didn't know you were already here," alexandra explains, dropping her head low. "i would have stopped way earlier."

"why would you?" max smiles, albeit halfheartedly, then looks down at the menu again. "we've broken up, right? she can do what she wants - i'm not her problem anymore."

"right," alexandra nods, pressing her lips together and sinking into her seat. she gives daniel a small smile before taking a sip of her cocktail. "sorry."

"hey," charles says again, putting both hands on the table. "you fucked up. don't take it out on alex that you're upset (y/n) is no longer with you. weren't you the one who let her walk out?"

max looks up immediately, mouth agape as he tries to process the words that charles just spoke. it's true that max let you walk out, which is what hurt the most. and it's, in fact, unfair that he is being like this.

max just sighs. "you're right." he turns to alexandra. "i'm sorry, alex. i shouldn't have taken it out on you."

alexandra just smiles, nodding understandingly. "it's okay. breakups are hard, max. i shouldn't have been talking about it knowing you'd be here any second, anyway."

"okay," daniel finally speaks, hands held up between the three of them. "let's just have a peaceful dinner, alright? no more breakup talks - this is an enjoyable evening."

they murmur in agreement with a nod. but the tension is the air never lightens up, and neither does the churning in max's stomach which is increasingly getting harder to ignore.

there's something about the phone in max's pocket that's making him itch to check it.

so after they send their orders in, his friends immediately fall into a conversation and he fishes for his phone in his back pocket. there's only one notification.

one that told him he's justified for feeling sick.

don't react

they're just pictures

it's from victoria. he opens the message, received about 10 minutes ago when he left the paddocks with the older alpha tauri driver. he can almost imagine the pictures, even if victoria hadn't taken the liberty to curse him with the pleasure of seeing them.

so he opens instagram.

just as fate would have it, you're at the top of his timeline from some f1 gossip page that he had no idea he followed. in the first one, your face can be barely made out, crouched down as you step out of the backseat of a car with alexandra still in the car. but he recognises the dress - it's one that he got you a couple of years ago, after winning his first race with you as his girlfriend.

the sheer will you've got to be on a night out in a dress that he got you is something he has to give to you. that's absolutely one way to get back at him after the pictures of him and kelly.

something tells him it's about to get worse. and it does, because when he swipes to the next picture, it's you visibly looking intoxicated, he assumes from all the body shots you took. and his heart skips a beat in his chest as his mouth runs dry.

there it is, some guy holding the car door open for you. in the next, he's seen scooching in with you in that backseat.

"are you alright, mate?" charles' voice makes him look up as he drops his phone into his lap.

max takes a deep breath, unable to force a smile to his face. he just nods, swallowing the lump in his throat.

charles' stare on him lingers before he nods hesitantly and resumes the conversation with daniel. max's eyes shift to alexandra, now staring at her phone with parted lips.

she looks up, meeting his eyes with a worried stare.

max just shakes his head before she can say anything. he just leans back into the seat and folds his arms over his chest.

guess it's really over now between you.

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab @graciewrote @hollie911 @thatsojasminesworld @mycenterfold @princessria127 @ironmaiden1313 @dl-yum @crlsummer @brekkers-whore @minkyungseokie @honethatty12 @barelytolerabled @vellicora @lokigoeschoki @avg-golden-retriever @lokigoeschoki @cherry-piee @telengraph

[heavyhitterheaux]

"Why were you calling my daddy daddt last night, mommy? "

It was the middle of the day and you were confused on why Ivy had been extra attached to Jack and let out a sigh when you had asked her to do something. Yes, she was a daddy's girl but it seemed like today she wasn't letting him out of her sight. Autumn was already down for her afternoon nap while Axel had slowly drifted off to sleep as he cuddled against your chest, leaving Ivy as the last one awake.

“Babe, you want me to order food or did you have something in mind that we were going to fix?” Jack asked as he scrolled through his phone and Ivy being the nosey child she was, had been looking over his shoulder to see what had him so interested.

“You, my wonderful husband, are not going anywhere near the kitchen.” You replied as he instantly sucked his teeth.

“I'm getting better! I made you a five layer grilled cheese after I…”

You instantly put a hand over his mouth as your eyes went wide. You knew that Ivy wouldn't understand, but you knew that she was probably going to repeat it at the worst possible time.

All Jack did was wiggle his eyebrows as you rolled your eyes.

“You got lucky last night. Who knows what will happen next time.”

“I sure did get lucky.” Jack said as he leaned to whisper in your ear making you laugh as Ivy turned up her nose.

“Daddy, what's so funny? I wanna laugh too.” Ivy asked as she now moved to sit in Jack’s lap wanting all of his attention to be on her.

“Nothing, Ivy. Just something I wanted to tell your mom.”

She rolled her eyes and you caught it and looked at her and immediately asked for an explanation.

“Ivy, lose the attitude, now. What is going on?”

“You’re trying to steal daddy away from me!”

“What? Ivy, if it wasn't for your mom, you wouldn't be here.” Jack quickly answered as you were still trying to understand why she was acting that way towards you.

“Why were you calling my daddy daddy last night, mommy?” Ivy asked and at that moment, Jack was drinking his water and his eyes went wide as he tried not to choke on it as he made a face at you.

“Umm, you might have been imagining things, Ivy.” You said as you tried to come up with an explanation.

“Cause I thought daddy was your husband?”

“He is.”

“So, he can't be your daddy too.” Ivy responded as she was thinking out loud.

“He's not.”

“Hmm, says who?” Jack whispered, but you heard him and you quickly pinched him making him yelp.

“As long as daddy still loves me.”

“Of course I do, bubs. And I love your mom, too.” He replied as he kissed the top of her head.

“Okay! Can I have a popsicle?”

“Yeah, you go first and I'll meet you in the kitchen.”

Ivy slid off Jack’s lap and immediately ran into the kitchen as he turned to you and busted out laughing.

“I told you that you were too loud, baby.” He said as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you.

“You get on my last nerve.”

“Hey, don't get mad at me.” Jack responded as he held his hands up in defense.

All you did was roll your eyes as you adjusted Axel in your arms.

“Lose the attitude before daddy teaches you a lesson. Just wait until all three of them take their nap.”

[agentmarcuspike]

"is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" part 3

(gif by @pascalsky)

cw: neighbor!dbf!joel x f!reader, smut, manipulation, misogyny (sorry), dubcon (but it's ok), penetration, oral m and f recieving, gun present, implied underage sex but it's not really, threats of violence, uhhh jumping from a roof? synopsis: you're on a terrible date and call your neighbor joel for help. he helps you out in more ways than one... a/n: this is my first attempt at smut, please be nice w.c. 3k lmao

part one + two + four

You try not to roll your eyes as your date, Jack, blabbers on about how much make-up turns him off, how he prefers his women natural, and how much of a womanizer he is.

The whole evening has been like this, only interrupted by him sending his friends at an adjacent table looks saying, "Oh yeah. Look at this catch. I'm gettin’ sum tonight." As if you're not sitting right in front of him and have eyes. 

"I'm just saying," Jack continues, and you force yourself to listen. "There’s beauty in youth and innocence, right? Like, any man who says he wouldn’t choose 18 over 25 is lying," He looks so full of himself, leaning back in his chair, spreading his scrawny legs as much as possible. 

You want nothing more than to knock this guy off his high fucking horse and teach him some sort of lesson. Scare the creep and cockiness out of him. You've been mulling it over all night, pretending to listen to his awful misogyny, and you have a vague idea about what you could do, but it involves taking him home, and you're not sure it's worth it.

"Sure," you lie. "A lock that can be opened by many keys versus a key that opens many locks et cetera." The remark is meant to challenge him, but he bites.

"Right! You get it!" He leans forward on his elbows. "You know, I rarely meet girls as smart as you. Females can't usually," He taps a finger to his temple. "keep up with me."

That almost makes you laugh out loud. Who does this guy think he is? But you bite your tongue and smile politely, as he snaps his fingers at a waitress. 

"Hey!" he all but yells. "I'd like to pay for the little lady and myself." You want to wipe the satisfied grin off his face, but instead you send an apologetic look to the poor waitress, and excuse yourself.

In the bathroom you take out your phone and set your plan into action.

YOU: I need your help.JOEL: Where's the body? YOU: On its way to your bedroom. JOEL: Key’s outside.

All of the lights in Joel’s house are off as you approach, and you’re crossing your fingers in your pockets, hoping that means he understood your vague explanation over the phone. 

"So…" You turn to Jack and gesture up at your neighbor’s house. "This is me!"

He raises his brows, impressed. "Wow," he replies. "You live here? On your own?"

"Mhm," you humor him through a smile threatening to escape as a laugh. He grabs your hand pulling you towards him, but as he leans in to push his lips to yours, you swerve.

"Quick, before the neighbors see," You grab his hand and lead him up the stairs to porch, squatting down by the door mat. The key is there. You flash Jack a quick smile, before turning to unlock Joel’s front door.

Back in Joel Miller’s bedroom. Everything just as you last saw it. He really wasn’t joking about not changing the sheets, you think, as you plop yourself down on the mattress.

Jack is quick to follow, throwing himself at you. His hands are all over the place, squeezing your tits way too hard, sucking himself onto your lips like a vacuum cleaner. You can barely get out of his grip enough to stop him from tearing at your shirt.

"You first," you say, out of breath, and he pulls his shirt over his head. He's... for lack of a better word, ripped. Breathing strained, he's flexing his washboard abs at you, and you're more impressed with the amount of time he must have spent working on it, than you are turned on. "Pants too."

He stands up, quickly undressing, before he starts pulling at your skirt. Ideally, you wouldn't let it go this far, preferring to not let him touch you at all, but he has already pulled your skirt and panties off, and placed himself between your legs on the bed.

"Want me to go down on you?" he grins. "I'm really good at it."

You disguise your laugh as a cough. "No that's fine, I'm good."

As if he didn't hear you, he disappears between your thighs, and starts lapping at you, slightly above the right spot.

"You like that?" he asks you, almost immediately. You don't.

"Mhm," you manage, biting down on your lips to stop from laughing at the absurdity of this guy's unjustified confidence in his own abilities.

“Your body is amazing,” he says, but before you can thank him, he continues, “like a solid 7/10. If you shaved, you’d be an eight.”

Thank God he’s too busy doing whatever it is he’s doing down there, because you can only gape and roll your eyes at the backhanded compliment.

After about a minute of slurping, he asks you if you're close yet, and you just can't keep it in anymore. You let out a snort, and he looks up at you confused, but only for a second, because the next thing you know, Joel Miller bursts through the door.

Armed with a rifle.

"Get the fuck out of my house," he yells. Jack leaps to his feet, quickly gathering his clothes.

"Oh shit," he whispers, looking to you for help. You cover your mouth to hide your grin, playing along.

"Daddy!" you yelp.

"That's right," Joel replies, placing his foot on Jack's crumpled up jeans, just as the owner is about to reach for them. "That's my baby girl you're trying to fuck.”

Jack steps away, unsure of what to do. "I'm so sorry, sir, I didn't— I didn't know..." he mumbles. "Wait, how old are you?" He turns to you, hands in the air.

You feign innocence, thinking of the most scandalous number you could get away with. "16...?"

His eyes widen and he swallows harshly. "I'll leave right now."

"Yeah you will."

Joel stares him down, making no signs of moving from the doorway he's occupying. Jack looks back and forth between the two of you, unsure of what to do, before Joel breaks the silence again. "You can use the window." he cocks his head towards the second story window at the end of the room.

"What?" Jack looks at you again, genuine concern in his eyes. He takes a moment too long to move, because Joel yaps again, pointing the rifle at the half naked man.

"Move!"

And towards the window he goes. He pushes it open, one leg outside, looking back at you for support you’re not going to give him. Then he meets Joel's threatening stare, and climbs all the way out on the gable. Joel walks towards the window, watching as Jack slides down the roof, yelping as his feet hit the ground underneath.

Joel throws his jeans and shoes out after him. "And don’t come back!" he bellows.

You're still laughing when he puts the rifle down and turns towards the bed.

"Too much? S'not loaded," he assures you.

"Kinda wish it had been," you giggle back.

He snickers and sits down next to you. You've covered yourself with his sheets but feel strangely at ease considering how undressed you are in front of him.

"You doin' alright?" With his brows furrowed at you, he looks genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you smile reassuringly. He smiles back and lays down on top of the covers. “It was funny.”

"Did I come in here too early?"

"No, you came in way too late," you laugh. It didn't bother you too much, but deep down you wish you had been interrupted before the asshole put his mouth on you.

"Oh..." Joel looks away, and you wonder if it's the light, or if he's actually blushing. "So, you... Did you... Finish already?"

It takes you a second to realize what he's talking about, and then you laugh again. "No, oh my god, no!"

You cover your face with your hands as you giggle, embarrassed, and feel the bed shift under his weight as he moves. When you look back up, he's right next to you.

Joel carefully brushes your hair behind your ear and leans down to plant a kiss on your shoulder. Goosebumps appear down your arms, and you shuffle under the bedsheet, feeling a rush to the pit of your stomach.

"Do you want to? Finish?" The question should have caught you off guard, Mr. Miller being your dad's friend, your neighbor through most of your childhood. But it doesn't. You already know you want to.

You nod slowly, and feel your breathing get heavier, as Joel's hand moves the covers away. You're still wearing your shirt, but you feel more naked than you have been all night.

Joel's hand continues down your thigh, caressing and squeezing lightly, and you press your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure building between them. Then he looks up at you, placing his other hand on your cheek, and leans in. For him you don't swerve.

His lips touch yours lightly, only a delicate brush, before he kisses you harder, properly. The force of the feelings arising in you takes your breath away, and you fall backwards onto the mattress. Joel follows, without breaking the kiss, landing carefully on top of you. As your mouths explore each other, you open your legs, inviting him between them.

The jeans covering his bulging erection is rubbing against your own growing need, and you could get off just like that, but you suspend it by shoving your hand between the two of you, cupping him. He groans into your mouth, just as you gasp into his at the feel of his size under your palm.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, moving one of his big hands to explore your chest.

“Been thinkin’ about you. About these.” He gives the breast in his hand a light squeeze, covering your neck and collarbone in light kisses.

“Been thinking about you too, Miller,” you sigh back at the sensation. “For years.”

He stops for a second, and you can feel him smile against your skin. Oh God, what did you just say.

“Years? Really?”

You can feel yourself blushing, the blood previously between your legs now in your face. Why did you say that?! You suppress the need to get up and knock your head against a wall over and over again.

Joel’s kisses continue, moving down to your belly.

“Fucking cliché,” he looks up at you, grinning like a devil.

“Well,” His mouth is at your inner thigh now, giving it a careful bite. “I guess dreams really do come true.”

And then his tongue meets your wetness, moving through your folds, from your core to your clit, in one long movement. Your hands grip at his dark curls, as he repeats the motion, dragging soft moans from you.

Joel looks up at you again. “He didn’t do it like this, did he?” he says, mouth full of poise and pussy. His soft lips swipe your clit, and you stifle a laugh as you shake your head. No, he didn’t. No one has.

The hard tip of his tongue caresses your swollenness, and you can see him moving a hand down to clutch at his own. The thought of him touching himself makes you even wetter. You long to see him, to feel him inside of you.

“Joel,” you moan, as you near your finish, but you don’t want to go there yet.

He looks up at you, only his dark eyes visible over your pubic bone.

“Joel, I want you.”

He laughs softly at that. “You’re having me right now, baby,” His thumb rubs at your center as he says it, causing you to grasp at the bedsheets. Not yet, not yet.

“I want you inside of me.”

He pauses, giving your sex a final taste before he sits back on his heels.

“I bet you do,” he says as he removes his belt and opens the zipper of his jeans. They’re strained around his hardness, and you sit up to knead his bulge, looking up at him with eyes full of compliance. He pulls his jeans and boxers down for you, his hard cock springing free, and you gasp at the sight of him.

He chuckles at your reaction, but makes no comment, other than pumping himself carefully a few times, nudging it towards your face.

“Come on, now”, he says, and you get closer. “Give it a kiss, get to know it.”

It’s not like you haven’t done it before, but you’ve never wanted to like this. You kiss the head of his cock, before grabbing the base with your hand, placing little kisses all over his shaft as well, prolonging the tease. From the soft moans it elicits from him, you suspect he wants it as much as you do.

Joel’s own hand comes to join yours around him, carefully parting your lips with the head, silently urging you to quicken. So you go all in at once. You open your mouth, taking him as far back as you can, triggering your gag reflex, making your mouth fill with spit. He groans loudly at that.

“F-fuck,” he sighs, throwing his head back. “Holy shit, girl”.

You smile, mouth full of him, and give him a few strokes with your fist while waiting for your mouth to re-fill with saliva. You go at him again, this time pumping him into your wet pit, head bobbing back and forth over him.

His hands grab at your hair, almost holding you back with the force of his grip on you.

“Careful, angel, careful,” he stutters. “You’re driving me insane.”

Joel moves his hand to your jaw and carefully drags you off of him with a soft pop.

He pushes you back down on your back, his naked groin against your own, lowering the rest of his clothed body down to whisper in your ear.

“This what you want?”

You swallow harshly, the taste of his dick still in your mouth. “Yes. Yes.”

“Yeah?” he repeats, teasing your opening. His eyes search for yours, and you meet his thirsty gaze.

“I want you.”

It’s the confirmation he needs. He pushes inside of you, the stretch of his girth stinging pleasantly as he opens you up. A grunt escapes him as he bottoms you, and you yelp at the sensation. “Ah!”

He pauses and looks at you. “You good?”

You are. “Yeah, it’s just a lot.” you admit. “You’re… big.”

He grins at that. “Just tell me what’s too much, baby.”

Grabbing his hips and pushing him back in, you grind against him. “Slow,” you say.

“However you want it, princess.”

He cages your head with his strong arms, the ones you’ve been secretly pining for when you’ve caught him mowing the lawn bare-chested through the years, and you squeeze his bicep, your other hand grabbing his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. He groans into your mouth as he lets you work him slowly in and out of you, and he pushes his tongue into you as well, filling you up where you’ve so desperately craved him.

You move your hand down to touch your throbbing clit, sighing as relief washes over you. You’re so close, you can feel yourself pulse around Joel’s cock.

“Come on, baby, you can do it,” he coaxes. “You’re choking my cock so good.”

His words of encouragement send you over the age, and your back arches as you reach your climax. You feel him fighting with your body to stay inside of you, your walls clamping hard around him. Your breath catches in your chest, legs shaking, and as your orgasm nears an end, Joel’s hips slam into you over and over again, his pubic bone grinding against your sensitive clit as he fucks you hard. His breath quickens in your ear, nearing his own finish. His arms are snug around you, holding onto you for dear life.

“Come inside me,” you whisper, hands on his ass to let him know you don’t want him to pull out. The words seem to hit the spot, because a second later he comes with a series of moans, and a few scattered “fucks” and “holy shits”.

You feel his hardness soften inside you, twitching, sending aftershocks of orgasm through you, his and your own. His exhaustion quick in his clothed chest, pressed firmly against your own. You don’t dare to move, worried it’ll send him the wrong signal, that you want him off you. You don’t. So you lay still, breathing softly through your nose.

Joel kisses your cheekbone as he rolls over, covering you both with the comforter, and you snuggle into his side. A minute goes by, only filled with your eventually calm breathing, before Joel turns to you.

"Was it everything you thought it would be?" he jokes.

You punch his shoulder and bury your face in you chest as you both giggle at how the evening has ended. His hand carefully plays with your hair. You turn your head upwards to plant a kiss on his cheek, his stubble tickling you skin.

"Don't get to comfortable," he huffs, and moves his hand from your hair to caress your arm which lays draped across his midriff.

"Why?" you reply without looking up at him, hoping the disappointment isn't too obvious in your voice.

"Promised your old man I'd help set up his new DVD player tonight," he says. "So don't fall asleep on me 'cause I gotta get back up soon."

You close your eyes in relief, comforted by the fact that he didn't mean "don't get comfortable with us, with this".

"We probably shouldn't arrive together, anyway," he continues. "You're supposed to be at a terrible date, remember?"

You sit up on your elbow, looking at him earnestly.

"If you go over first, will you promise to comfort me when I come broken hearted and crying through the door right after?"

He chuckles at that.

"'Course I will." He sits up too, planting a kiss on your hair, before getting out of bed. He tucks himself back into his underwear, still fully clothed, grabbing a shirt that hangs over a chair in the corner of the room.

"Give me 15," he says, buttoning his cuffs, heading towards the open bedroom door.

He looks back at you tangled in his sheets, and nods towards you.

"Gotta change 'em tonight," he decides. "Next time I want just you and me on them."

He winks at you, and closes the door behind him.

a/n: screams what did i do

thanks to @toxicanonymity for the date's name lmao

[tfp-is-my-lifeblood-lol]

Tfp Autobots Encountering the Mind-Control Cell Phones from Rescue Bots

(Because it canonically exists in the Alligned continuity, and I'm abusing that knowledge to torment my favorite little meow meows)

I've been wanting to write these headcanons. Might do Decepticons next.

Context for if you haven't seen the Rescue Bots episode "Spell Bound": A human named Madeline Pynch creates mind-control phones that hypnotize both humans and Cybertronians to dig up Blossom Vale (part of Griffin Rock)

Optimus Prime:

-He's the only one who's immune to the phones' power

-Lucky for him, the Matrix of Leadership can protect him from that kind of influence

-Because of that, he'd be the first to discover something isn't right with the humans, and eventually the other Bots when they'd start acting strange.

-He'd notice they're groundbridging to Griffin Rock with no explanation, and that they keep saying the phrase: "The project is the priority."

-Plus, their voices. Sure, they sound normal on the surface, but Optimus is very perceptive, and would pick up on the slight lack of emotion, and artificial tone when they speak.

-Throughout this mess, Optimus mainly confides in Ratchet

"What is going on?" Ratchet would muse, almost awestruck by the strange behavior of the others.

"I am unsure," Optimus would reply. "But I believe something is deeply amiss, old friend."

-Both of them would be struggling to uncover what this mysterious "project" is, and why the other Bots and humans have suddenly become so obsessed with it.

Arcee:

-She's the first Bot that falls under the spell; Jack's the first human to fall under, and he'd infect her

-Jack's responsible, empathetic personality works against him when he finds a golden cellphone abandoned at school.

"Someone must've lost this." He'd say. "I'd...better return it, right? I mean...I'd hate for someone to be freaking out, wondering where their phone is."

"I think they'll be fine without their phone for a couple of hours," Arcee would quip. "Come on, it's go-time. We've gotta get back to base."

-Then it rings

"I'd...better get that." Jack would say.

Arcee would playfully role her eyes and smile. "Alright. We'll go back after you've done your good deed for the day. But make it quick."

-Upon answering the call, Jack's whole body suddenly goes rigid. "The project is the priority."

"Uhh...Jack...?" Arcee would press, nervous about her partner's abrupt shift in demeanor.

-Arcee would vent to Bulkhead. "Something's seriously wrong with Jack," and beg Ratchet for help. "Ratchet, come on. He's gotta be...I don't know, sick, or something, right? He's not acting...human."

-But soon, Jack would attach a phone to her in vehicle mode, and she'd be sucked in as well.

-Arcee's mind control would be subtle. She's naturally stoic, after all. The others might mistake her drone-like behavior for her usual closed-off personality, even when Optimus asks her to go on a mission, and she flatly replies: "...Can't..." Perhaps she's just having a rough day thinking about her lost partners. But suspicions rise when she and Jack disappear to Griffin Rock.

-Even in trance, Arcee maintains her stealth and agility, making her a formidable opponent.

Bulkhead:

-He'd get infected by his human charge, just like Arcee.

-Miko is SUPER suspicious of Jack's strange, zombie-like behavior, so she tracks him down and calls him out on it. She'd assume it's the work of Decepticons.

"Yeah, ok, Jack. You think you can fool me. Come on, dude! You're acting like Megatron barbecued your brain! You're some kind of mind-controlled zombie! But, don't worry, Jack Rabbit! I'll find a way to fix you up. Otherwise, Bulk's gonna bash you into zombie smithereens!"

-Jack would probably have to battle Miko to get her to listen to the call, but eventually, she'd become hypnotized, too.

-Now THAT'S a HUGE red flag for Bulkhead, and, well, EVERYONE

-MIKO is acting stoic and speaking in a monotone? OUR MIKO?

-Oh, Primus, no.

"Miko," Bulkhead would say, holding Miko's electric guitar. "Don't'cha wanna play your favorite song?"

"No time..." The girl would say blankly, and Bulkhead would drop the guitar in pure shock.

-It won't be long before Bulkhead pulls Miko aside to ask what's going on.

"This will explain everything..." Miko drones, showing Bulk a strange golden cellphone.

"A...cellphone?" Bulkhead questions. "Where'd you get that?"

"Answer it."

-Poor Bulkhead is fooled. He takes the call, and now there's two Autobots down.

-Bulkhead's mind-controlled state would definitely raise a few eyebrows. At first, it'd seem like he's just deeply lost in thought, but when it's time to battle, and he suddenly has no interest in kicking some tailpipe, it's clear something's wrong.

-Luckily, he's still pretty clumsy.

Bumblebee:

-Now, Bumblebee's situation is interesting

-He doesn't get infected by Raf.

-Rather, he gets infected trying to save Raf from becoming infected when a hypnotized Jack and Miko try to assimilate him.

-Poor Raf would be like: "Bumblebee, no! You don't have to do this to save me! I need you!"

-Unfortunately, Jack and Miko break their promise to spare Raf in exchange for Bumblebee joining them, so now all the humans are under, and nearly every Bot.

-Bumblebee's mind-controlled state is similar to when Megatron possessed him, only slightly less dangerous (I mean, come on. That was Megatron. You can't get much more dangerous than that).

-Bumblebee's is also the most obvious (besides Miko, of course). Bumblebee's such a sweetheart, it's easy to tell he isn't himself. Plus, his buzzing sounds different under mind-control. It's lower, and duller.

-Even while hypnotized, Raf is the only human who understand's Bumblebee when he speaks, so the two work together, unlike the others. The phones numb all emotions, so Bulkhead and Miko, as well as Arcee and Jack seem to have forgotten they're partners. Bee and Raf mainly work together because it's practical.

Ratchet:

-Poor Ratchet's going through it😂

-It took a LOT of fighting, but he managed to scan the others with his medical scanner.

-Ratchet is the one who figures out the phones are emitting a hypnosis-inducing frequency. Optimus is grateful for his help.

-However, with everyone else hypnotized, Ratchet gets cornered, and hypnotized himself.

-Poor guy. He tried to help them.

-Mind-controlled Ratchet is pretty scary

-Keep in mind, victims of the Pynch Phones maintain their intelligence

-Ratchet becomes a precise, calculating machine. He's gonna FIND that gold, and, if you try to stop him, he'll get you out of his way however he deems fit.

BONUS: Aftermath/Optimus is goated:

-Optimus manages to save the others by crushing the phones. Who knows? Maybe he and Megatron even had to team up.

-The others are super guilty upon snapping out of it. Bee is like a confused puppy, Bulkhead is furious, and Arcee is horrified (Jack keeps having to assure her he's ok). Ratchet has, like, a hangover because his neural net is too old for this mind-control shit.

-Optimus makes sure everyone knows it wasn't their fault. He's such a kind dude.

-Madeline Pynch should probably run. Messing with the Rescue Bots is one thing, but THIS is Team Prime. Optimus may be a pacifist, but Pynch endangered human lives. That's a biiiiig no-no when it comes to Optimus. He probably won't hurt her, per se, but she's in for a world of karma, because the other Bots aren't so forgiving,

[what-even-is-thiss]

Hi roman. I know this is very weird, but i've seen you give some life advice to other people, so i thought i could give it a try too. Don't answer if you don't want to. Anyway

Do you have any advice/tips for a 15 y/o who thinks they just have no control over their life? Like, my concentration is dog shit, i think my grades are slipping. My executive dysfunction so bad and i think i'm disappointing a lot of people. I have no idea how to handle anything in my life. I can't force myself to do the things i need to (not that that'd be any good, i'll immediately cry lol). I just, don't fucking know how i could make things better for myself. And i can't really talk to adults about it, they'll repeat the stuff i already know, and i am the worst person to put their feelings into words, so they'll prob never understand. Not in the edgy way.

Yeah so sorry for half venting into your ask box. Thank you in advance if you'll answer it, if it's too weird and you don't want to do that for whatever reason, that's ok. Peace and love <3

Dude, you’re unfortunately suffering from being 15. And possibly a learning disorder. Godspeed to you.

And I don’t say that to belittle your problems. In many ways as a teenager you don’t have control over a lot of things. You’re still under the control of your parents, you’re still learning how to deal with adult level emotions and ideas. A lot is expected of you and a lot of things are made to seem more important than they are. It’s hard to tell what’s actually important and what’s just adults blowing things out of proportion. It sucks and it’s frustrating!

If you can, you might want to talk to a counselor. If your parents or guardians are anti-counseling you might try to talk to someone at your school like a teacher or administrator or school nurse about the possibility of getting counseling without your parents knowing. Some schools have programs like that.

The adults closest to you might not understand but if you keep looking you’ll eventually find someone who remembers what it’s like to be in your shoes.

And I remember fully feeling like I’d never get control over anything. The end goal of life was graduation from high school and god only knows if I keep existing after that. But the thing is, you do! You keep existing and you figure a lot of stuff out. Wisdom does come with time, it turns out. And legally and practically you end up getting a lot more autonomy as time goes on.

And I know hearing things like this might not feel comforting. When you’re stuck, you’re stuck and no matter how much you logically know it’ll get better right now it sucks.

Just find ways to keep going. And try asking for help sometimes. If your family won’t listen, find someone who will. Take the time to write down your problems and how you feel if you can’t come up with explanations of what’s going on. Or find a friend to talk it out with so you can practice explaining yourself.

If there’s one thing I can promise you, when you’re a couple years into adulthood all of the problems from your teenage years start to feel small. At the time they were big and important though. And that’s what you’re going through right now. And a lot of adults forget about that. Hang in there, and when all of this is behind you, remember how hard it was and maybe someday you can help someone like you.

I’m sorry if all that wasn’t helpful. I don’t know too much about your individual situation. But ask for help when you can. Someone out there understands. You’ll find them.

[valictini]

I've been asking myself these questions regarding totk's story and my deep disappointment in it, because I know a lot of people loved it, I know a lot of people felt it was a better story than botw, and I know a lot of people believe that Zelda games never had good stories to begin with....

But no, I do think the story objectively sucks, is worse than botw's, and could have easily been better. Totk's story is flashier and that's pretty much all it has to offer.

Part of it is its execution, how using the same blueprint as botw (deliberately non linear) was a baffling move when you tried to tell a linear story. You shouldn't be punished for pursuing the story earlier than when the devs planned. You shouldn't be able to spoil yourself the story. You shouldn't be presented with the exact same information 4+ times at points where you're supposed to be rewarded for your efforts. You shouldnt have to slog through a mystery when the game KNOWS you already know the answer. And yet, this happened to an alarmingly large number of people!

So yes, the execution wasn't good.

But the story itself isn't good either. Not only did they decide to cut ties with botw's lore, but they didn't even fully commit to the new lore they introduced.

The zonai civilisation has no substance. We see two (2) of its members and only interact with their ghosts in very, very few instances. During those interactions, we do learn tidbits of this civilisation, but as soon as the tutorial is over, you will never learn anything new from a zonai again. A couple lines during the tutorial is where the bulk of zonai lore happens. The rest is: jumping minigame said to be the same ritual young zonai would do to become adults and the explanation of draconification.

You could maybe say that the mere existence of zonai tech, the mere existence of secret stones, the zonai gear and the ancient hero aspect could be considered zonai lore. But what these things only really add to the lore is that the Zonai 1) were always everywhere and 2) were very powerful. That's pretty much it.

(The ancient hero aspect is especially infuriating to me. It could be a whole post.)

So, not only did they replace the Sheikah by the Zonai for no reason, they didn't even flesh them out enough to be interesting. But they didn't exploit the rest of the story to its fullest either.

- The heart of the story happens in the ancient era, yet we don't see much of it. All the new things we see: the inside of ancient hyrule castle's throne room, a garden and one (1) gazebo in a field. We don't get lore for the dungeons aside from their name, and the ancient sages don't add anything to them either. In general, we don't get lore of the ancient races, not even the hylians or the gerudos.

- Zelda was retconed into being stupid enough not to make the connection between Ganondorf and calamity Ganon. She was also sent back into being a compliant little princess that can't put her foot down when she knows the people around her are making mistakes.

(As an aside, I'm fully of the opinion that Calamity Ganon was a better antagonist than Ganondorf. At least you don't have to fanfic your way into understanding why he wants Hyrule destroyed. He's a magical beast full of hatred, the end.)

- The whole plot is centered around dragons, and yet totk manages to have LESS content surrounding the three dragons of Hyrule than fucking botw.

- Hylia is no relevant anymore. The statues are apparently their own entities? And they have counterparts in the depths with he bargainer statues? Never elaborated on.

The ending cutscene contains a deus ex machina that manages to retcon elements of its OWN story. (Rauru was supposed to be gone after the tutorial. Zelda was supposed to be gone after becoming a dragon.) Realistically, I knew Zelda wouldn't stay a dragon, but I was genuinely shocked at how little of an explanation we get for her return.

And we have 0 impact on her return as a player. Nothing we do matters. She turns back no matter what. Despite many opportunities to make it work in universe.

We could have had something tied with the other dragons, the three sources, to Purah's experiments with time, to the four temples, to Hylia, to the bargainer statues, to the triforce...

But no, just a vague "ghosts that should have disappeared eons ago use their powers to get her back through your arm".

We don't even have an alternate bad ending where this doesn't happen. It will happen, no matter what. For the cinematic shot at the end.

Oh and Link had to get his arm back too. I know they needed their cool parallel of Link catching her hand at the same angle as when he failed to do so at the beginning, but it just all feels so inconsequential as a result.

Everything's solved, everything's good, nothing that happened in this game ever mattered.

[traincat]

You know something I just noticed? I don't... actually like Peter Parker.

No, seriously, I like the CONCEPT of Spider-Man and yeah, he's funny at times, but... I can't actually get invested in his canon self. It's ridiculous, it feels less like he's an interesting character and more being a superhero is the ONLY way to make him interesting (I know that's the charm), but...

Like, his phrase, "With great power comes great responsability", it feels... I don't know, childish? I like that nobody's FORCING him to be a hero, but he ALWAYS finds a way to make himself feel guilty over something and his assholeness is funny, but... not necessarily healthy?

The only thing going for him is Spider-Man, which ALSO destroys his life and I know that's somewhat unintentional, but I'm kinda tired of him angsting all the time. For instance: him not killing is Noble, him comiting to his City is admirable. It also makes it so he doesn't really prioritize people unless they had a HUGE impact in him and him not killing, makes the WORST consequences imaginable at times.

Or his "I know better" catastrophic. He's a good character for sure, but... I wouldn't want to be him. Like at all, his powers are cool, yet... that's it. I like his concept more than his canonical self (hell, I prefer his FANON self), the only somewhat exception is his Lego version, but that's cause everyone's sillier.

It's that weird or something? 😶

Anon I sincerely mean no offense but there's two explanations for this ask and one is that you're trolling me and the other is that you haven't really read much Spider-Man. I'm going to assume it's the second to be nice and because you've kind of hit two points that bother me in this fandom and thrown them together in the wash: the first is people forcing themselves to like Spider-Man because they feel like they should and in the process forcing him into this little box of bland and inoffensive likability (fanon Peter) and the second is just. being wrong about basic facts about Spider-Man but assuming they're right because Spider-Man being one of the most popular IPs in the world means everyone thinks they know everything about Spider-Man based on one catchphrase and half a Raimi movie.

And it makes me feel like this.

Like this is not your fault! These assumptions you've brought into my inbox are not your fault. Spider-Man marketing is set up around making people feel like they know Spider-Man and it's a fucking problem because it means people come into a six decade long soap opera with hardline beliefs already stamped on them and it is really hard to get people to change their opinions. I know! I was there! I was one of those people! Every day I'm thankful I didn't post fanfiction when I was in my early Spider-Man days because it would make me look like such a hypocrite but also I didn't know Spider-Man until I committed to reading eight thousand comics.

"Him being a superhero is the only way to make him interesting" potentially yes because one thing about Peter Parker that canon makes abundantly clear is that without Spider-Man he is a miserable fucking bastard. Like he sucks so bad. Spider-Man unleashes a deep well of empathy and kindness in him that might have existed but would not have surfaced without his experiences as Spider-Man because it was locked behind a concrete wall of bitterness twelve feet thick.

(Amazing Fantasy #15/Sensational Spider-Man #41)

"Him not killing is noble but" you're thinking about Batman. You are thinking about Batman. Spider-Man "doesn't kill" the way I'm "not writing this post right now." Peter aims not to kill. Peter talks a whole big game about not killing. His track record on that goal is not great. I have a whole post about that here. (cw for discussions of suicide related to Spider-Man vs Wolverine.)

Like, the thing about Peter and I think this is actually one of the biggest things about Peter is that you can't take what he says about himself 90% of the time too seriously. He is NOT an unbiased narrator of his own life. He will say one thing in his own internal narration and then you will be shown something completely different and you need to trust what you see and not what he tells you.

"Gee whillickers I've never done any crime" says man who literally only does crime. (Web of Spider-Man #43)

Two things can be true simultaneously: Peter can have a no kill rule and Peter can be spectacularly bad at enforcing himself on this rule, because he is a giant hypocrite who believes in double standards for himself first and not for anyone else ever after. This is part of what makes him an interesting character -- it is not hard to push Peter over that no kill line. The character will go there. It's up to the writer, then, to keep Spider-Man's I would say unearned squeaky clean no murder image by throwing a wrench into his plans.

(ASM #595/ASM #637/ASM #542)

This is not the place for my unhinged powerpoint presentation about how Marvel has backed themselves into a corner on reversing One More Day because to do so with the appropriate narrative weight calls for Peter to kill the Kingpin. He SAID he was going to kill him. And he IS. (He just didn't say he would do it right now.)

"I wouldn't want to be like him" neither would I!! But I am going to argue that this is where Spider-Man marketing has failed everybody because, while there are certainly traits about Peter you're supposed to admire (for all I have been and will keep ragging on him he is without a doubt a bottomless well of goodness and he is one of the most deeply kind, if not nice, characters in the American pop culture landscape), whether or not you want to be a character is not a good litmus test for what makes a good character.

"With great power comes great responsibility is corny" is like. Did you know that the phrase doesn't originate with either Peter or Uncle Ben. The origin of the phrase is in the ending narration of Amazing Fantasy #15, after Peter stops himself from killing the burglar who killed Uncle Ben. It is literally Stan Lee and Steve Ditko making a point to the audience, and that point was later put in Uncle Ben's mouth. Is it corny because it's actually corny? Or is it corny because it has been so endlessly parodied by bad faith actors that its meaning has been diminished? Because all the phrase is doing is pointing out that people with more power (be it physical, economic, or societal) have a greater responsibility to those with less power than them. Because Peter has these gifts, he owes it to other people to act responsibility. You can sum up Spider-Man as a story about power and abuse: the villains abuse their power. Spider-Man is different than the villains because, though he has great power, he chooses not to abuse it. Spider-Man as a character is a distillation of Tikkun Olam, a Jewish principle that means "healing the world." "You do not have to finish the work, but you cannot abandon it." This is why Spider-Man is street level. He doesn't have to finish the work. He doesn't have to save the whole world. He just has to do what is in his power to do, every single day, and that's where the conflict comes in, because it would be easier for him to walk away, but because he has the power, and because he is an ethical man, he can't. And this concept was distilled down very, very well in "with great power comes great responsibility" because it's a very simple phrase that takes a complex ethical issue and makes it easy to understand.

"Ordinary. Saddest face I ever saw. He tries to smile, but I know it hurts. This is all for my benefit. He wants me to be okay, and he's giving me this." (Spectacular Spider-Man v2 #14)

Spider-Man is not a faceless cardboard cutout you're supposed to endlessly project on and the Disneyified marketing's insistence on that is what ends up with people insisting that a character who has remained popular in the culture for six decades has zero actual personality traits and is instead just some mirror to hold up against the viewer, letting them reflect whatever they want back on him. And it sucks.

And then I, as a person who loves canon 616 Peter and think he's one of the most complex and realistic characters ever written specifically because he is so flawed, end up writing these screeds even though I told myself I wasn't doing Spider-Man discourse any longer.

me @ myself.

But like here's the thing about the second point: you are not obligated to like any character. This has been bothering me about greater Spider-Man fandom (and adaptations) for years because I think there's this incredible push for people to like Peter Parker. There's this feeling like, yeah, you have to like this guy, because he's so popular, and because so much of the marketing is based upon everyone liking him. The truth of the matter is not every character is going to resonate with every fan and that's totally normal. But there's this idea that you have to like Peter Parker especially, because he's the relatable superhero, but no one character is going to be relatable to everyone, and in order to make him more relatable to the widest audience possible (the most desirable to advertisers audience possible) (white cis goyishe straight men ages 8-40) (who might buy a sportscar) his actual personality has to be watered down as much as possible so he can be used, essentially, as a mirror to reflect the audience, instead of as a fully developed character that the audience can empathize with if not relate to. This is why the MCU movies look like that. It's why the last few comic runs have looked like that. You are not obligated to like Peter Parker if he doesn't work for you. There is literally nothing wrong with that. But so much of Spider-Man fandom is built on people who don't like canon Peter and instead erode his personality in various ways to fit him into neat little boxes which is how we end up with fanon Peter, who resembles, in practice, what you're describing a lot more than canon Peter does. And if you like fanon Peter, that's fine. Lots of people like fanon Peter! That's why he's so widespread, because he's much easier for fans to project whatever they want to on him. That's not an insult, but an observation, because I think he serves a purpose. It's not canon Peter's purpose, and it's not a purpose I personally am interested in, which is also fine, because not everything works for every person.

Canon Peter is complicated, and he doesn't always do the most likable thing, and he has a lot of flaws, but that's what makes him interesting and so fully developed. And a fully developed character is one not everyone is going to like. There's literally nothing wrong with that.

(ASM #129)

[nothingbutnowhere]

Part 2 soft!Simon x hypervigilant!reader

Part 1

You don't absolutely need to read the last part to understand this, but it's in the same universe.

Edit for explanation in notes I forgot not everyone knows what a CPAP device is lol, someone tell my why I have sleep headcanons for all my blorbos

Notes: domestic as fuck, Simon snores & uses a CPAP (a device that helps with sleep apnea, looks like this, he definitely has to use a full mask there's no way that man's nose isn't broken to hell and back and has difficulty breathing, why do you think he wears a mask (so he can breathe warm, humid air which is much better for your lungs)) reader is referred to as 'girl' by Simon, referenced off screen sex, teasing and banter

...

The after-sex-cuddles-but-before-bed ritual is set in stone. You both get up, Simon folds up the sex blanket (second best purchase of your life) and cleans your vibrator (the best purchase of your life), while you prep a warm washcloth. He helps you wipe down, he calls you 'messy girl' each time like he didn't contribute half of it. You still blush.

Brushing your teeth together, it often hits you how domestic this all is. Some nights it's painful and Simon holds you until you stop shaking, other nights you're smiling so hard it's difficult to brush. Tonight is somewhere in the middle. Melancholic. Quiet. He shoos you into the bedroom after you're done, turning off the light and closing the door on the way out.

Simon grabs you as soon as you sit on the bed and pulls you down into him, strong arms surrounding you, face nuzzling into your neck like a cat. But you see through the trick.

"Put your CPAP on before you fall asleep."

"Don' wanna," he says sleepily, "Can't do this w'the bloody thing on."

It's true, spooning with the CPAP sucks (unless he's the little spoon) but that's not what the current objective is.

"Simon," you warn.

You try to wriggle out of his arms to no avail.

"Simon Riley put it on right now or so help me god you'll be sleeping on the couch for the next week," your mock 'upset' tone is always only half serious, made even less so by the punctuating yawn.

For both your sake's you need the 'bloody thing'. For one, you'll sleep like shit if he's snoring in your ear and for two he's always in a much better state when sleeping with the CPAP. He's told you he sleeps like shit when he's gone and you tut that it's because he doesn't have access to it. He said it was 'cause he didn't have access to something else and that was the end of that conversation (he went to bend you over the kitchen counter but you slipped away giggling, only to end up tossed over his shoulder on the way to the bedroom).

"Simon."

When he doesn't move you jam your elbow back into him.

He doesn't so much as grunt at the attack, only grumbles and flips over, sitting up to flick on the lamp and mess with the machine.

You watch him as he does, muscular back on display and you resist the urge to run your hand over, lest you disrupt the process. 

He may tease you gently about your 'princess alarm clock' that wakes you up with light and birdsong, but you get him right back with references to his 'CPAP deluxe'. It's got the warm air humidifier for his 'delicate nose', all the bells and whistles.

He finishes and turns the lamp off, leaving the faint light of the street lamp to illuminate the room and him as he turns back around.

"There's my scuba diver," you giggle, tapping the mask softly.

He sighs, knowing he can't make a convincing comeback with the mask on- you'll only laugh at his attempts- and lays down on his back. You immediately snuggle up against his side, hugging his arm, leg thrown over his. His hand cradles your face for a moment, thumb sliding over your lips as a good night kiss before laying his hand over yours on his chest. 

It's peaceful like this. Before you needed silence to sleep but you've gotten used to the CPAP. Mostly because it means Simon's home. And now when he's gone you have to put on white noise to sleep. Nothing your princess alarm clock can't handle. There's been lots of big and small changes since Simon wedged in to your life with his puns and banter and menacing figure but it's been more than worth it.

"Love you," Simon mumbles through the mask.

"Love you too."

...

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

Part 1

A/N: I made this account to write smut and here I am with the softest slice of life blurb. Oh well. Maybe I'll write the bit after the 'access' comment, there's lots of fun places that could go.

[igglemouse]

I wake up feeling different, as if there is a new purpose humming within me. It's barely there, I admit, but I do know it wasn't there before. Maybe it's because for the first time I felt welcome? Sure, sure, SUUUUURE, it was by a vampire, an actual blood sucking leech on two legs but...I was feeling welcome for the first time in a long time. That I could be part of something or rather part of whatever they have planned. I'm not sure what I'm stepping into, or rather if I'm stepping into anything at all.

Whatever the day decides to throw my way brownies shall help me prepare for it. At least that's what I'm telling myself. I'm a bit delusional, as you can tell, just let me have my delusions?

So I do the usual, clean my floors and myself and end up watching TV any ways which is a box full of delusions. Just trying to pass time I guess, I don't know. Honestly, what even is my life?

Well, it's Friday, so something has to happen. Things usually happen on Friday's, right?

And I was right, something DOES happen A knock at the door and on the other side some random guy. A handsome random guy, I should add, calling himself 'Niklas Krausser'. It's a name I'm sure to remember because it belongs to a man ridiculously hot. Tall, well defined features, and a bit of a presence to him. Hard to explain. There is a sense of magic to him, I know that at once. As they say, it takes one to know one.

"And what brings you to my door, Niklas?" I ask, pretending to be casual despite this unexpected twist to my day.

"I've heard a lot about you," his reply has a smoothness to it. "But..."

"But?"

"There's not much magic to you after all," he continues and now I think he's sizing me up. I should be worried, after all, there are people out there who would like me dead but I'm guessing if that was his intention I would be already. "There's a flicker there, faint....barely noticeable at all."

"Sorry to disappoint," I feel a little stung and a need to defend myself. "I've been excluded from the super secret magic club all of my life so you can't blame me."

"Heh, fair enough," he says with a chuckle. "If its any consolation you're not missing out on much," his eyes linger on me a little longer and I'm starting to realize he's not sizing me up for my magical abilities. "May I?" he asks with a tilt of his head.

Ladies, it's not wise to let strange men into your home but my life needs a little spice so why not?

Mr. Krausser settles himself comfortably on the couch in my very plain and lame living room. He doesn't fit here. The bare walls and cheap furniture make him stand out a little more than he should. He lounges as if he's a king, full of confidence, talking about the weather and local news at first before we get into what he's likely really here for. Magic.

"You should know, magic is quite overrated," he says waving his hand as if to emphasize this point.

I'm blinking, confused, because, "How can magic be overrated?"

"Don't be silly, Gracelyn, it's all a bit shallow, isn't it?"

And now I'm crossing my arms, demanding more of an explanation. "Shallow? Some can bend reality with, can't they?"

He shrugs because this is an argument I'm sure he's heard before. "But should we allow others to bend reality? Is it truly worth it?"

"Yeaaa...." I'm not a big fan of philosophy.

"Most of us," he continues. "About 99% actually, can't do much. Determine the flip of a coin or your typical parlor tricks," again a hand wave, he makes it all seem rather boring.

"Yes but, a coin flip could change the future? Butterfly effect?" he's not moving, another shrug of those shoulders of his. "You could at least use it for better, clean up big with it, walk out a winner."

"Yes, sure, I guess," he's not at all convinced. "Remember, the realm frowns upon such things, so what is it really useful for?" He smirks, thinking I am defeated and perhaps I am. I'm no expert on magic after all.

He's right. The Realm has strict rules that apply, ironically, all outside of the realm, from what I understand. A spellcaster cannot use magic to manipulate others or alter the world in their favor in any way. You'd be in a world of trouble for making yourself rich as the wealth brings you power and your punishment? Let's just not talk about the punishments.

"So then, why are you here?" I narrow my eyes at him, trying to draw out his purpose. "To deter me from wanting to learn it because-"

"Actually, I have no idea why I'm here!" he says throwing up his hands and looking truly perplexed.

"What?" Okay, that catches me off guard? I was expecting some serious conversation, you know, another warning. 'Don't pick up any magical books you little witch or else!' but instead I just get some clueless but clean cut nice looking guy dropping by for no reason at all? I can't help but to start laughing. "Okay, what is this about?"

He takes a long and dramatic sigh and stands, dusting himself off and then heads right for the door as if he had accomplished his goal but he doesn't get too far before I stop him.

"Look, umm, Gracelyn, this might be a mistake," he tells me, suddenly lacking the confidence that he walked in here with. "Which is wrong, mistakes don't happen, not with me, I've been led wrong before but-"

"Buuuut? But what?" I interrupt, close enough to deny him exit because now my curiosity wants to keep him here so that I can get a little more out of him. "What is this about?"

"I-it's destiny, you know? Fate?" there is an earnest energy to his voice now, his tone telling me that whatever he's going on about he truly believes it. I'm just not sure what he's talking about. "Do you believe in that? Believe in fate?"

"Maybe," I hesitate, what else am I to say. This is the same guy who said magic was overrated not that long ago and now he's asking me to believe in it? "It could be some kind of magic, right? What is this about?"

"It's my watch, Gracelyn," he holds it up for a second, lightly tapping the glass of its face. "It leads me, guides me, to....well, fate, I guess. I've been following it all of my life and wherever it points, I go, especially when I'm lost and well...here I am, at this house, with you."

"O-oh..." well if this is a pick-up line it's rather creative. I'm a little thrown off though, trying to process it. Magic is real, of course it is, who am I to deny it? Yet if what he's saying is true... "So, let me get this straight, your watch led you to me or-"

"Or it's led me to this house," he says quietly, seemingly as confused to his purpose as I am. "Which I guess is possible but..." he lets that thought hang, rubs the back of his neck and takes a deep breath. "I need to go, I guess I'll figure it out later, huh? Like I said, magic is soo overrated."

But after he left I found myself staring at the door. He's right. There was magic in that watch, definitely, I could feel it. Even if it was just a hint, it was there and he was her. I'm not sure what that means, maybe it means nothing at all, or maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic dreaming that I'm living in a fairytale and I've met my prince charming...

Faba stood before her fires, losing herself amongst the dancing flames, letting their light reveal snatches of the world beyond. The flue flames cackling and spitting, telling her of what was to come, telling her that the world was changing. Not only the one she once called home, but all of the worlds, every where.

The balance was shifting and it was impossible to tell which way it was shifting. Good? Bad? That's all a matter of perspective, isn't it? Change was neither but it was always inevitable.

In this case, her focus was on the girl called Gracelyn. Faba had been tasked with watching her for some time as she was exiled due to the punishment of her parents. Innocence, caught in the wrongdoings of another, she knew the story all too well, but Faba wasn't interested in Gracelyn's past, it was her future. Her potential a flame waiting to ignite, but who would spark the match?

"So, did it work?" Simeon asked, fixed on the mirror above the fireplace and on both of their reflections. To him, the fire didn't have magic, he never quite understood what Faba saw in it but he was no seer. She could read it as if it were a book.

"Maybe," she mumbles, still lost in its tales. "Time will tell."

"Faba..." Simeon's voice was low in warning. "A lot is riding on this, everything is riding on this, will the two pair?" He didn't need to speak their names, no, there was power in names and when one speaks yours they tie your destiny to you and he wanted to keep Gracelyn's fate far from his own. At least for now.

According to Faba, Gracelyn had several possible futures and according to her she was doing all she could to nudge her down the most preferable one. Like some twisted fairytale she had manipulated Niklas' watch, speeding up time, speeding up his fate. He was meant to meet her, Faba did see that, but it was a little later in her life, not now. Niklas was a protege of Simeon, a promising one at that, she just hoped this would be best for the both of them.

"Well?" Simeon asked, desperate. His plan was simple but...

"Time isn't linear, Simeon, you know that," she said, not turning to look back at him because she thought this plan was rash and foolish. "They have met, that much I know. What happens now I cannot say."

Episode List - Next

[alaydabug2]

I don't think I posted this on here yet

If so oh well

(Keefe Pov)

Keefe slammed his door shut and locked it. He flopped onto the bed, grabbing Mrs. Stinkbottom and squeezing her tight.

Him and his dad had gotten into their fourth fight that week. It was only Tuesday. One in the morning. One after school. That wasn't even counting their small skirmishes.

On Monday morning, it was about him staying up all night drawing. After school, it was about him not cleaning his room. That morning, it was him not doing his empathy exercises.

Now, it was about his father saying he was just like his mother.

Keefe was able to handle a lot of his insults. But that hit too hard of a nerve.

Cassius called him useless, a burden, whiny, ungrateful, disrespectful, unworthy of love. He was able to slide off all of those things. He'd heard them millions of times.

But being told he was like his mother? Out off all them, that hurt the worst.

But...wasn't he, though?

He'd betrayed people he cared about. Done awful things.

He had her blood flowing through his vains. She was part of him, whether Keefe liked it or not.

That didn't stop him from finally snapping.

Keefe finally argued back. Tried to defend and stick up for himself. But his father knew exactly what to say to make him submiss.

He said he never wanted a kid in the first place. His mother managed to somehow convince him. He regrets ever letting her. That he never loved his son. He wished Keefe was never born.

The last one was the final nail in the coffin to make him flee to his room. Cassius taunted him along the way.

Keefe had screamed himself hoarse. That didn't stop him from pulling out his imparter.

"Sophie?" he murmured, his throat still raw.

"I'm here," she told him. "What's up?"

He sucked in a trembling breath. "I need you right now. My dad and I had another fight."

Sophie didn't need any more explanation. She simply said, "I'll be right over." And hung up.

Five minutes later, he heard a door slam open. Then, the sound of a lot of yelling. Particularly a female. Then stomping towards his door. But when he heard the knock, it was soft and gentle.

He got up. The comforter still tangled around himself, the green gulon in his hands. Slowly, he opened the door.

Sophie walked into the room. She placed a box on the desk. She quickly locked the door behind her and took his face in her hands.

She brushed the tears away from his eyes. "What happened?"

By the time he was done explaining, he was curled up on the bed, Sophie sitting beside him. She was gently running her hand through his hair, his head propped up on her knee.

As much as he complained about people messing with his hair, he had to admit, it felt good.

The box she had brought turned out to be Edaline's mallowment. After snacking on it and talking to Sophie, he felt a lot better.

But he still didn't want to stay there that night.

"I... think I'm going to ask Elwin and see if I can stay there for a night or two," Keefe thought aloud. "I know I've been there a lot, but I just can't stay here tonight."

Sophie nodded. "I'm sure he'd be ok with it. Do you want me to get your overnight bag?"

"I've got it. I need a couple more things anyway."

He got up and headed to his closet. He pulled out two uniforms and threw them into the overnight bag. He'd had one ready for the past two and a half months in case he ever needed to get away from his father for a break. And he used it a lot.

Most of the time, it was to Splendor Plains. Others, it was Havenfeild and occasionally Everglen.

Sophie handed him the imparter. He thanked her and spoke Elwin's name into the device.

Keefe glittered outside of Splendor Plains. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and knocked on the door.

Elwin answered and hugged Keefe before bringing him inside. Nothing needed to be explained. He knew the drill. Keefe had gone there so many times in the past few months that he knew the reason.

Elwin just asked if he wanted to watch a movie as he pulled dinner out of the oven. (A/n pretend they have movies for this 😅)

They settled on the couch with the TV on. He wrapped an arm around Keefe. It felt nice. Why couldn't his father just be caring? Was it really that hard?

Elwin probably sensed something was wrong because he asked, "Everything alright?"

Keefe shrugged, taking another bite of food.

He didn't like that awnser, so he said, "You can tell me anything. You know that, right? I'm not gonna get upset."

"We just... really had it out tonight. No big deal."

By the emotions that got flung Keefe's way, Elwin wasn't buying it. But something else was in the mix, too. A combination of worry and concern and sympathy. Something he didn't know how to take in.

Elwin didn't say anything else, though, and they finished their movie and food in silence.

When it started to get late, Keefe got up and started to go to bed. He had Foxfire in the morning, unfortunately. He said goodnight to Elwin, got showered, ready to go to sleep, and into the bed.

By the time he was under the covers, Elwin cracked open the door. "Can I come in?" Keefe nodded. Elwin sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing the blanket a bit. "Are you sure you're ok? I can tell it was a pretty bad fight. Did something else happen than usual?"

"I guess you could say that. Umm... he said I was like my mom. I fought back for the first time, but he...," Keefe trailed off. He curled further into himself. "He said things. He wished I wasn't here. That I wasn't born. Turns out he never wanted a child, but thanks to my mom's 'legacy' stuff, she convinced him. So, here I am. Nothing that comes from them are good. It was inevitable anyhow."

"That's not completely true," Elwin whispered. "You did, and that's enough."

Elwin took his hand, squeezing it. Keefe scooted closer.

To his surprise, Elwin never left. At least not until he was asleep, because he stayed sitting on the bed. Not talking or waiting for any answers, just being there with him.

Yeah, definitely different than just several hours earlier. At some point, Keefe fell asleep.

"You should come over after school," Sophie prompted.

It'd been two weeks since Keefe's major fight with his dad. He'd had to go to Elwin's place three times in the short amount of time. The abuse just kept getting worse. So he had zero hesitation in agreeing.

He walked through the door, trailing behind Sophie. When he saw the living room, he got an uneasy feeling. All of his friends were there. Their parents. Elwin. Livy. Mr. Forkle.

That couldn't be good news.

"Is something going on?" He asked.

Sophie got a mischievous grin on her face. "We have a surprise for you."

"Uh oh. I don't like the sound of that."

"Calm down." She pushed him down to sit on the couch. "It's good."

Edaline snapped her fingers. A box about the size of a donut box appeared on the table in front of him. Everyone gathered around in a semicircle.

He pushed the box away. "This is something to get back at me for all of my pranks over the years, isn't it." He looked at Biana. "Is it glitter?" He looked at Dex. "Will it explode?" Linh. "Shoot water at me?"

"No, but we should do that," Tam suggested.

"I'm not going to trust Bangs Boy," Keefe told them.

"It's fine," Fitz said. "Just open it already."

Keefe eyed them all. "If this is a prank," he warned, "you are all going to regret every single decision in your life that led you to this point."

Everyone just stared expectantly at him. He pulled the box back to him. He slowly raised the lid. He braced himself. Nothing happened. Slightly more than confused, he opened it completely.

Inside, there were three items. He wasn't able to see what the other two were because his gaze fixated on the open scroll.

It read, 'The official and legal adoption of Keefe Sencen by Elwin Heslege has been approved. Keefe will now permanently reside at Splendor Plains. Lord Cassius Sencen has no legal rights over Keefe Sencen.'

Keefe gasped. He looked up at everyone. They had smiles on their faces. "You all knew?" Everyone nodded. Keefe's gaze shifted to Elwin. He stood in the corner of the half circle. He had a soft grin on his face.

Keefe fell back onto the cushions. Incredulous to the paper in front of him, he murmured, "This is a prank. It's not true," with his hands covering his crying face. Weight shifted on the cushion beside him. He turned his head to see Elwin beside him. "You're joking."

Elwin moved the hands away from Keefe's face. "I'm not joking, I swear." He held out his hand, challenging him.

Keefe swiped his hand across Elwin's. He was telling the truth. He accepted Elwin's open arms.

Elwin's hug was crushing, but Keefe didn't care. It was warm and comforting. Everything he wanted during his childhood. Everything he needed. It felt like home. Another sob escaped.

He sniffled as he finally pulled away. Elwin reached for another item from the box. A family crest. A Heslege crest. He unpinned the Foxfire crest from his cape and replaced it with the new one. He made sure it was secured on.

Keefe choked on his words. He reached up and clasped the pin in his hand.

"Your part of the family now," Elwin told him. "Only seemed fitting."

Forever Keefe had wanted to be truly part of his family. It never felt legit. No matter what he did or said, his parents never made him feel part of his own family. He wasn't able to earn his own crest until he was fourteen, and it was a tracker. Now Elwin was just giving him one. No strings attached.

Maybe something wasn't wrong with him, after all.

He had no words. Although he did start crying again once Elwin pulled the last item out of the box. It was a home crystal. He told Keefe it was his.

He hugged Elwin again. "Thank you," he murmured. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Of course," Elwin said softly. "I couldn't stand seeing you stay there any longer."

Keefe glanced at Sophie. She has holding into Grady and Edaline's hands like a lifeline. This must've been how it felt for her to finally get adopted by them. Like something finally clicked into its place.

When it was finally time to leave, Elwin let Keefe do the honors with his new home crystal.

Keefe froze when he got to the doorstep. Elwin gestured for him to go inside. "It's like it always was. Just more official now." They hesitantly stepped through the door. "Come on, I want to show you your room."

"My room?" Keefe asked.

"The room you've been staying in is my guest room. This will be your permanent room." They trailed up the stairs to a door they'd never been in before.

Keefe stopped in his tracks. The room was a pale yellow. In one corner was a desk. On the wall beside it was shelves full of art suplies. By a bay window was a few bean bag chairs and a rug. Several stuffed animals were strewn about. Against the wall  in the center of the room was the bed. He couldn't help a chuckled when he saw it had batman bedsheets. He was confused to see that Mrs. Stinkbottom was already on the bed. He turned around.

"Got permission from Magnate Leto for your friends to skip class to help me move your stuff today," Elwin explained.

"Wait... does my dad know?"

He laughed, "He will tomorrow when he gets the scroll. He was at Atlantis when we were there."

His jaw dropped. A smirk spread across his face. "He's going to be ticked."

He looked at the room. Then back to Elwin. He practically tackled him with a hug. His eyes started to well up again

"Don't worry," Elwin murmured. "You never have to go back there again, Keefe. I promise. You're wanted here. You're going to be loved here.

Keefe wanted to deny it. Say it wasn't possible for that to happen. But being an empath, he knew he wasn't lying. It was going to be ok.

More than ok.

He had a parental figure to care for him. For the first time in his life. He was wanted.

[come-rain-come-shine]

As I was watching "Day of Death" a couple of weeks ago (as one does), I paused on this whiteboard to see what it said, and something stuck out to me.

On this whiteboard detailing the events of the night that Lucy was abducted, someone wrote this:

The board says:

hates cats (won't tell anyone)

sucks on lemons

This seems to be personal facts about Lucy that have been included with facts about the case. It's possible these points are about Caleb — maybe things that Lucy relayed to Tim while she was looking Caleb up on social media — but since it's stated repeatedly in the episode that they have "squat" to go on about him, it's more likely that these points are about Lucy.

I have two theories for why these bizarre points are on this board: an in-universe explanation (grounded in the story and the characters), and an out-of-universe explanation (grounded in reasons related to the actual creation of the show).

In-universe: Tim and/or Jackson, desperate to contribute to the investigation, were yelling out whatever they could think of to help build the case.

Now, I can't guess why anyone could have seen these particular tidbits as possibly relevant. But since they all had so little to go on, it would seem that they were throwing absolutely anything at the wall to see what would stick.

This theory mostly stems from the way that Tim was regurgitating every little thing he knew about Caleb the moment he knew that Lucy was missing. His wild spouting of facts is rather out of character: Tim is usually in control, focused on the job. But when Lucy is missing, logic flies out the window for him.

He tells Grey about the video of Caleb playing with a puppy, why?? Because it's all the information he has to offer to the case. Even if it's not really pertinent, he says it, because he doesn't know what could help Lucy. Also, he's not fully in control of his actions, and he's possibly suffering from motormouth.

I include Jackson as a possible contributor because he is probably the person who is second-most concerned about Lucy, plus one of the people who knows her best, and he has a history of babbling when stressed (I'm thinking of season 1, episode 13, "Caught Stealing," when he tells the Internal Affairs investigator about the gifted creme brulee completely unprompted lol). But in my Chenford shipper heart, I want to say Tim was the one to make these less than helpful contributions.

I can picture Armstrong writing out all this information about Lucy's whereabouts the night of her abduction, stating facts that they know, and Tim and/or Jackson blurting out personal details that might (somehow) give them a clue about where Lucy is now. Maybe Armstrong writes out the addresses of where she was on December 8th, then the stuff about other victims, and then he says, "What else do we know?" and then Tim and/or Jackson start wildly interjecting. They know literally nothing else that is relevant, so all they can say is random trivia about Lucy. And Armstrong, who can see that emotions are very high right now, writes it down to placate them? Or because he's like, "Irrelevant information is better than no information"? (I'm not sure how a detective would think in this scenario.)

Out-of-universe: Some of the set decorators or other crew were messing around, writing down whatever on the boards, and someone forgot to erase this. 😆

I like the in-universe explanation better, since the writing is rather large and this behaviour by Tim and/or Jackson would be consistent with what we see earlier in the episode.

[mueritos]

As someone who’s been through multiple therapists and psychs, you’re super not wrong about these people bringing their biases to the table. I’m lucky enough that I

1. Was an older teenager

2. Had friends who had had decent mental health help already

3. Already kinda suspected the shapes of what was “wrong with me” and

4. Had an innate sense of “no that seems like bullshit” before I went in with these people.

The first therapist I ever saw met me as a 17 year old alt girl, and when I tried to talk to her about thinking I had anxiety issues she cut me off before I was done explaining and told me I was self diagnosing, that was causing my problem, and we wouldn’t “entertain THAT” any further.

The second therapist I ever saw met me as a 18 year old trans guy, pre-everything, during the pandemic. She listened, but she had no experience with the trans community and I had to teach her everything about anything I wanted to talk about with regards to that. She was nice, but she couldn’t help me. She didn’t know how.

The third therapist I ever saw met me as a 21 year old young man. She figured I had everything sorted out already. I didn’t. She never tried to change her mind or delve deeper. At this point I couldn’t afford to waste my time, so I asked to be recommended to a psych and she said sure. After that we didn’t talk.

The first psych I went to was very kind, and absolutely did not do his due diligence. I came in with a shiny recommendation from a therapist (that he didn’t verify), so he all but handed me the medication with no explanation and I only ever spoke to him over the phone after that. It was a low barrier to entry but the medication wasn’t right and I didn’t know I had other options. He made it seem like I didn’t.

The psych I’m seeing now put me on a medication that reacted poorly with my inhaler because she didn’t cross check if they would be any drug interactions. I came back and asked for a different medication. She was going to put me on a different one, and then I asked her to check if there were any interactions with this one. Turns out there were severe ones. I ended up going with a different medication, it seems to be working. It would probably work better with help from a therapist, but I don’t have the time or money for that right now. And quite frankly I’m tired of trying to convince people to help me when I have to explain what I think is wrong with me for them to listen. Only for them to decide that I’ve already figured it all out and they don’t need to try.

So uh. Yeah. Lots and lots of stories from me and my friends about clinicians of all age and experience ranges that go from horror stories to just disappointing and unhelpful. Some of these people had been practicing for 20-30 years and they STILL weren’t any better at empathy or not being horribly biased.

first of all holy shit it really fucking sucks you had to go through all of these terrible experiences while accessing care you deserve and need. i'm not surprised these terrible interactions happened, and I can't even be disappointed considering the bar of standards is in hell. The "better" experiences a lot of folks have with clinicians align with your second therapist. They are clinicians who just genuinely have no worldview outside of their own, but are receptive to new information...they just have no drive to learn how to apply new frameworks of ways of thinking to expand their worldview and guide their clients. The worst is literal malpractice, ableism, and violence against clients.

a lot of people who go into the mental health field don't actually have the skills related to active listening, empathy, or curiosity based out of humanity. I say this to a lot of people in the social work program, but social work is the same pipeline as mean girls who go into nursing--it's just full of the girls who were not smart enough to go into nursing that decide to go into social work. Same breed of mean girl seeking power over others, just different contexts of public service.

the only hope i have is in the new generations of mental health clinicians who are BIPOC/queer, anti-carceral, disabled themselves, and who are mentally ill as well. I feel more solidarity with my neurodivergent peers in my program who can barely finish an assignment on time than I do with the white women who have never experience hardship in their lives. Not to say neither of these people can't experience easy or hard times in their lives but man....seeing the roadblocks in some of these people's worldviews, empathy, or conceptualizations of other people's struggles is fucked up.

the mental health field is just another medicalized, over-policed, and racist institution that wants to shove people back into the workforce ASAP. we are in hell!! but just know there ARE people and groups and orgs out there that are dedicated to radical work and will name all the hypocrisy, pain, and oppression that exists in working in this field.

thank you tho for sharing your experience and input. I can only hope that your experiences moving forward are positive and liberating for you <3