#i will totally disregard that the show even existed

[silentglassbreak]

hi bestie is it too late to request? you said you liked writing angst, well, i love reading it 💔💔painfully unrequited love!!!!! gimme gimme

friends with benefits with (overly affectionate!!!!) Noah and reader who falls sick to her stomach head over heels in love with him. blurring the lines between sex and love.

going to a bad omens concert however long after and it’s like they’re strangers oOF rip my heart out and stomp on it idc. been listening to Novocaine on a loop all day. i’m not okay

feel to totally disregard if you’re not feeling it angel <33 thank you bby I love your writing 🥺🥺

Angst............. UGH I've been WAITING babes. My goal is to rip your heart out...fair fucking warning. MMMLOVEYOUUUUU. After Writing Notes: I'm the actual worst. I hope you don't hate it!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, lots and lots of angst

Can You Feel My Heart

Love languages are such a strange concept, aren't they? That seems to be a fairly new idea that someone came up with in the last decade or so?

If you like to buy love...your love language is gifting.

If you can't communicate well...your love language is affection.

If the only way you know how to show feelings is with sex...your love language is intimacy.

At what point are we allowed to call someone out for being a dick? At what point are we allowed to confront the fact that someone is skipping around the idea of commitment, and ask them to just admit what they really want?

This wasn't the first time these thoughts had danced around my head, in the wee hours of the morning, while Noah's arm laid heavy across my waist, him snoozing behind me.

Noah and I had been friends since we were seven years old. We met on the playground at the park in the center of the neighborhood of our small town in West Virginia. He told me he liked my butterfly hair clips, and I let him have the blue one. He wore it in his hair every day for three weeks.

He grew up in a broken home, only his Mom around most of his years, and even then - that relationship was...strained. So many nights he had snuck into my bedroom window, curling up next to me, tears free falling down his cheeks. We never talked about why, but it didn't take a psychic to figure it out.

He moved in with his Grandmother when he was fourteen, and even though he lived in the next town over, he still made it a point to take the city bus to me every day after school, even when he dropped out.

We were never more than twin flames, incapable of existing without each other, moral support for the other during any type of hardship. Looking back, I guess that was what built our serious dependence issues.

"I can't live without you, Y/N. I'll die if I ever lose you."

"No you won't Noah, don't be stupid."

He was stupid. As stupid as they come, because when I turned eighteen, and started college, he had paid one of his friends to drive him all the way up to Columbus to see me. He showed up at the door of my dorm, drunk and broken, blathering on about how only having been away from me for a week had killed him, and he needed to see me.

That was the first night he kissed me, and I let him.

As most people do when having grown up with someone so closely, I had developed an attachment to Noah very early on. I first recognized it when he turned twelve, and started skateboarding. He would insist on trying to teach me how, despite my undeniable clumsiness. His hands would grip my hips, his face so close to my ear, and his chest pressed to my back. He would talk in this deep voice, his puberty hitting early. I was awe-struck.

He was my best friend, sure. But he belonged to me, that's what he always said.

Even when he had girlfriends, I always came first. Dates would get cancelled for me; plans changed. Hell, he even blew off one girl whose birthday fell on the same day as mine. I was his priority. I was his person.

So when he leaned in to me, sitting on the edge of my mattress in the dorm, liquor stained-breath against my face, I just closed my eyes and let it happen.

He spent the night with me, and had to leave early. Vowing to come back, he never broke his word.

There he was the following weekend, sober this time, with snacks, DVDs, and a week’s worth of clothes. I managed to hide him in my room for four days before the dorm advisor caught him.

The second day he was there was the first time we had sex. I was a virgin, and he was not. That hurt me, sure. Not enough to deny him what was rightfully his. I belonged to Noah, body and soul. He took his time, walked me through it, and gave me the best possible experience I could expect. It hurt, and it was weird, but a sense of relief washed over me.

We had finally crossed that threshold. We had sex three times that week, until he was forced to leave.

That's when the words left his mouth.

"We need to talk."

That conversation broke something inside of me. He loved me, but he didn't love me. He was honored to have been allowed to give me something so meaningful, but he could never see me as more than his best friend. Our friendship was too important, and he wouldn't even allow himself to entertain the idea of jeopardizing that. He had made up his mind, and he couldn't have feelings for me.

It was with the heaviest heart imaginable, I sucked back my tears, painted an easy smile on my face, and held his hands in mine.

"I totally understand, Noah. No worries! We can just have fun, you know?"

And that was it. We were stuck in this sick, frozen place for the last two years. I was about to finish my Associates in Columbus, and hoped to become pre-med at Boston U, but Noah didn't know that yet. I could never figure out how to tell him.

Noah Davis was this heavy, bright flame that I was desperately afraid to extinguish. He had formed a band right after our arrangement began, and he was twenty-four hours away from leaving on their first major tour that would take him around the entire country, and then across the Atlantic to Europe.

How could I tell him that while he was gone, I was likely moving even further, and starting my life without him?

I didn't want to live without him, but he was leaving, and I couldn't sit and wait forever...

I breathed out a sigh, the light beginning to stream in the window of my one-bedroom apartment. He needed to wake up, drive home, and make sure he was ready to leave tomorrow. It was only 6AM, so I knew he'd be cranky, but I couldn't put this off any longer.

“Noah?” I breathed out his name. He groaned in response. “You’ve got to get up. You have to get ready to head home.”

"Mm, ten more minutes." I rolled my eyes, and began sliding out from underneath him.

His arm locked, and held me in place. I giggled, and saw as he turned his face, one eye cracking open. "Don't get up. It's too early."

I narrowed my eyes. "I have class at 8AM."

Noah used his strength against me, pulling my body to him and holding me tight so I couldn't get up. This only made me laugh louder.

"You don't need to get up for another hour."

"Not if I want to shower."

He sighed into the pillow. "So crazy, cause I don't think you do."

I rolled my eyes. "Dude, you've got to get home. Nick will kill us both if you're not ready in time."

"I'm not scared of her." He smirked, and I smacked his arm.

"Shut up. And get off me!"

He stuck his bottom lip out, pouting heavily.

"Not going to work. C'mon." I wriggled hard enough to break his grip, and sat up, stretching my arms over my head. He sat up as well, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

I pulled a robe over myself, turning to look at him as he scrolled through his phone, checking messages.

"Coffee?" I asked, and he threw a thumbs up at me.

I left the room, headed for the kitchen, trying to keep my breathing even. I had very little time left.

Filling the pot with water, I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, his face burying in my neck.

"I don't want to go. I'm going to miss you so much."

I leaned into the touch, taking anything I could at this point. "I know. I'll miss you more."

He scoffed. "Not a chance."

Holding me for a few more moments, he let go to head to the fridge, pulling out the bagels and cream cheese, and plopping down at the dining table. I continued my work of preparing our coffee.

"Hey, uh," I started, keeping my voice as calm as I could. "there's something I wanted to chat with you about."

I turned around, two hot mugs in my hand. He was spreading the cream on a bagel, already having prepared one for me. I sat next to him at the table.

"What's up?" He didn't look up at me.

"I told you I had been trying to decide where to start medical school?" He just nodded in response. "Well, I find out today if I got into Boston."

He halted, his eyes snapping up to me. "Boston?"

I took a sip of coffee. "They've got the best med program on the East coast-"

He cut me off. "Since when were you looking on the East coast?"

His tone was darkening. This was going to go about as well as I expected.

"Since I realized I had a chance. Noah, my GPA and scholar program gives me a real shot."

He grit his teeth, setting his bagel down. "Boston is far, Y/N."

I kept calm, setting my mug down as well. "I know."

"So, why would you want to be so far away?"

"Well, you're going far too, Noah. Your first show is in San Diego."

He sat back in his chair. "Yeah, but the last one puts me right back here in Columbus for a month before I go overseas."

I nodded. "I know. I'll still be here, then. You get back six weeks before the end of the semester."

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't go to Boston."

There was a finality to his tone, and something about it made my insides flinch with irritation.

"Oh no? And if I do?"

"You can't."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Can't? And since when do you tell me what I can and can't do?"

He rolled his eyes, standing from the table and walking over to the trash, binning the half of his bagel he didn't eat. "We can't be that far away from each other."

Lifting my eyebrows, I stood as well, crossing my arms. "And why is that, Noah?"

He leaned back against the counter. "Y/N, you know why."

"What? So you have someone to fuck whenever you want? Whenever one of your little groupies isn't around?"

His eyes popped open, then. "What?"

"You heard me." My tone was deadly, matching my stare at him.

"You really think the only reason I want you close is because of the sex?" He seemed truly stunned.

"Well, why else would you want me around?" I threw my hands up, walking back down the hallway toward my bedroom. I could hear his footfall behind me. I just continued, stepping into the closet to get dressed.

"What is that supposed to mean? I always want you around."

Rolling my eyes, I clasped my bra on and popped my head out to look at him. "Noah, I'm convenient for you. Unless you have any other valid reasons to keep coming over, I don't know why else it matters."

His jaw dropped open. "That is not true."

Pulling my shirt on, I scoffed. "Please, dude. Spare me the act, okay?"

"What act?"

I pulled my jeans on, buttoning them before stepping out to face him again. "The 'you're my person, and I can't lose you' act." I quoted myself. Something about that pissed him off, because he crossed his own arms and stared me down.

"The fuck are you getting at, Y/N?"

I shook my head, brushing past him, and walked toward the bathroom.

"Noah," I turned to look directly at him. "we've been at this for years. It's kind of old, don't you think?"

His face softened slightly. "We had an agreement."

I nodded. "You're right, we did. Just sex, for the sake of our friendship. That's what you wanted."

"I thought that's what we wanted."

Waving a hand between us, I took a step toward him. "Oh no, Noah. That's what you wanted. Not me."

He was silent, then.

"I wanted more. I always have. I thought that had become clear over the years, but I fucking guess not." I could hear my voice raising a few octaves. "You didn't give me a choice. You came in, broke that boundary, and then put it right back up again. And I stayed, just so I wouldn't lose you."

I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes.

His voice came out small, then, his hands now buried in his pockets.

"What do you want from me, Y/N?"

I sighed, letting one tear escape. "I want you to love me."

He pulled his hands out, stepping toward me and taking one of mine. I let him.

"I do love you!"

I stared at him, my teeth ground together. "Do you? The way I love you?"

Noah was a lot of things. He was brilliant, funny, generous, dedicated. He had the most redeeming qualities of anyone I knew.

And sure, he could be stupid. But not that stupid.

He had known how I felt about him. Of course he did. That was why I kissed him every chance I got. Why I always let him in. Why I never dated anyone else. Why I stayed all this time.

But here? In this moment? He was the biggest idiot I knew, because he dropped my hand, his eyes falling with it, and took a step backward.

"I..." He huffed out a breath, looking back up at my tear-stained face. "I can't. I'm sorry."

I averted my eyes, then. I could feel myself breaking, crumbling right before him.

"You need to leave, Noah."

I could feel he wanted to pull back to me, like a moon in orbit of a planet. Gravity. But he didn't. He just stepped back toward the doorway.

"What does this mean?" I heard his voice, but wouldn't meet his eyes.

I sniffed hard, trying like hell to keep myself upright.

"It means you go on tour. Be who you are, Noah. And I'll be who I am. Without each other."

His body shifted, but I was stone, unmoving.

"I can't lose you." I heard him let out a light, sarcastic laugh. "I'll die."

I let myself laugh at that.

"No you won't, Noah. Don't be stupid."

7 Years Later

Residency is going to kill me. I may actually die in pursuit of this God awful career I've chosen. I was three years in to a five year program, intending to finish in General Practice, but until that time, I was just an idiotic twenty-seven year-old with no life, no sleep, and no clean fucking clothes to wear.

Every resident gets exactly forty-eight hours of paid time off every three months, and I had not taken mine in over a year. I finally had taken all of my hours - six days total - off of work, and after spending the entire first day sleeping, I was due to meet with Raylene in an hour.

Ray and I met at the beginning of residency, and quickly gotten close. We managed to find an affordable apartment together within walking distance of the hospital, and spent any rare free time we had together. She was currently at her boyfriend's place, spending some much needed time with him, before we went out for the evening.

I was digging through my unfolded laundry, trying to find something not too wrinkled or stained to wear tonight. Ray had told me we were going to a concert for a band she had recently discovered, but she didn't tell me who it was. I didn't care, to be honest. Existing somewhere other than the Emergency Room or my own bed sounded heavenly.

Finally settling on a deep red cropped t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and the Vans I rarely got to wear, I straightened my hair and applied what little makeup I could. I set out of the building to the waiting vehicle downstairs, Ray practically hanging from the passenger window.

"You look so fine!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Sure. Like I might've slept in the last two weeks?"

She chortled back at me, leaning in her seat once I was in the car. I waved hello to her boyfriend Sean, and gazed at Ray.

"So, Tyler isn't coming."

She frowned at me. "Why not?"

I shrugged. "Said he had a case he was working on, and he really couldn't spare the time."

She rolled her eyes. "Typical lawyer. Too busy for anyone but his clients."

Tyler and I had been dating for about six months now. Maintaining a relationship while having jobs as busy as ours was difficult, but he somehow managed to work it out. He would pop in when he knew I had breaks to bring me food, or have me spend nights off at his place, massaging my neck and helping me get caught up on my favorite series. He was an honest man. A good man.

I liked him.

Right?

It's so hard to tell what's like and what's convenient when you live your life exhausted and overworked, so I didn't have a lot of time to question it.

"Bummer for him. I'm so excited to see this show!" Ray was beaming in the front seat.

"Yeah, who are we seeing, anyway?"

"A band called ERRA. They're opening for a bigger headliner, who I've heard are pretty good too."

I nodded. "I've never heard them."

"It's rock. Metal, really." Sean chimed in, and I acknowledged him silently, looking out of the window.

My mind zoned out while we drove to the House of Blues. Ray and Sean chatted idly up front, but I was just enjoying the fact that I was finally out of the house for once.

That is, until we walked into the venue. The banner poster stared at me, the photographs of the band mocking me...

Bad Omens...they were the headliner.

Memories flooded back to my brain, my insides clenching at the visions.

I hadn't spoken to him since that day...that last day in my apartment. When he left, and never looked back. I didn't even keep in touch with the rest of the guys, for fear that I would be sucked back into the maelstrom that was Noah Davis...

“Y/N?” I turned to see Ray stood behind me, noticing my reaction. “You okay?”

My mind wasn’t comprehending what I was seeing. There’s no way that was them? The last time I had heard of the band, they were one-of-four supporting bands on much larger headliners. Now, they were selling out tickets at their own tour? Seven years was a long time…but how had they gotten this popular?

I wondered this, as if I didn’t know how wildly talented those boys were. Aside from Noah, Nicky, Jolly, and Nick Folio were some of the most intelligent and creative minds I had known. They all brought something special to that band, but I would have never expected this.

Huh. Guess he could live without me after all?

Something bitter crept into the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down, staring at his photograph on the poster.

“Yeah,” I tore my eyes away for a second to look at Raylene. “sorry, I’m fine. Just didn’t realize Bad Omens was the headliner.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of them?”

I pulled my lips to the side. Did I want to tell her?

“Long time ago.”

I couldn’t get past how different he looked in the picture. Last time I saw Noah, his hair was halfway down his back, he was skinny, and he had the thinnest little mustache growing on his upper lip.

In these promo pictures, however, his hair was short, not even reaching his ears, he looked much more muscular, and he had no facial hair. He also had many more tattoos than I remembered. That wasn’t surprising. Noah was a tattoo addict from a very young age.

Jolly had let his hair grow and had the cutest goatee on his chin. Nicky looked almost exactly the same. And Nick, bless his heart, had grown into such a handsome guy. They all looked so grown, so serious and broody. It almost made me giggle, knowing how goofy these guys were in real life.

Noah looked the most stunningly different from the rest. Not only did his entire appearance change, but his eyes…something in them was just so much darker. That harsh flame I had once known was so dim. It almost hurt to see. Almost.

We were making our way out to the pit of the GA floor. I had decided to get myself a cocktail to take the edge off. I didn't plan to come face-to-face with him, and likely wouldn't even get the opportunity to get a good look at him period, but still...just knowing we were in the same room made my throat tighten. I washed it down with Vodka and cranberry juice, hoping the warmth of the liquor would unfreeze my nerves.

The first band, Invent Animate, was entertaining enough. Very interactive with the crowd and high-energy. I found it pleasant, but couldn't get myself to focus long enough to notice what they were singing about. I struggled to breathe, the set ending, and knowing I was one hour closer to seeing his face.

During the intermission, Ray excused herself to the restroom, and I stood with Sean, feeling dizzier as the moments passed.

"Hey, I think I'm going to step out for a second. Get some air."

He quirked an eyebrow at me. "You okay? Want me to come with?"

I shook my head. "Nah, don't want you to miss the band you guys came to see. I'll be back."

He nodded, patting me on the shoulder before I weaved in and out of the crowd. I discarded my plastic cup in a trash can before exiting out into the main lobby. I found a spot on the wall near the doors that was unoccupied, and leaned against it, letting my eyes close and my breathing even out.

When I opened my eyes, I searched the room, looking for nothing specific. I landed on the merch tables, and saw someone oddly familiar talking to the lead singer of the last band we had watched...

The liquid courage is what carried me in that direction, smiling to myself.

He stood with his hair pulled back, as usual, and was talking with his hands. Same as he always did.

"Nicky Ruffilo..." I said loud enough to hopefully catch his attention, my hands now grasping the edge of the table.

His head snapped over to look at me, his brows knit together curiously. I could tell he was putting it together.

"No fucking way..." His voice sounded the same as it always had. "Y/N?!"

My teeth flashed at him, and he circled the table to approach me, his arms pulling me into a tight hug.

"Jesus Christ, I didn't recognize you!" That was fair.

Since the last time I had seen any of the guys, I had bleached my hair a pale blonde, lost twenty-five pounds, and had grown two cup sizes. I was, for all intents and purposes, an entirely different person.

"Yeah, well I absolutely recognized you." I said as I gripped his shirt, squeezing him tight.

"How long has it been?" He asked, pulling back to look at me.

"Uh," I thought for a moment. "seven-ish years?"

Nick's eyes were in disbelief, an amazed leer on his face. "God damn, girl. I can't believe it."

I pointed to the banner above his head. "Headlining now, huh? That's amazing!"

He smiled, proudly. "Yeah, we've worked really hard. A lot's changed."

My eyes fell on Noah's face on the poster. "I can see that."

I could tell he was pondering, a question hanging on the edge of his tongue. It was the most obvious question, so I answered for him.

"He doesn't know I'm here."

He nodded, leaning an arm on the table comfortably. "Ah, okay. You didn't want him to?"

I snorted. "I didn't even know I'd be here. My friends came to see ERRA, and that's when I realized you guys were here."

"Makes sense." He had crossed his arms. "Do you want him to know?"

Contemplating this, I let my face fall to get away from his gaze. I wasn't certain how to answer that, but it seemed like the answer was clear regardless.

"No." I sighed hard. "It's probably for the best that he doesn't, right?"

I couldn't read Nick's face, if he was disappointed or relieved. He seemed to be pretty satisfied with my answer, but I could tell he had more he wished he could say.

"Fair enough." Was all he gave me, before letting out a breath. "So, you still live up here?"

I let my muscles relax for a second. "Yeah, doing a residency at Brigham right now."

"Residency? Does that mean you're a doctor?" He asked, clearly confused.

I cackled at this. "Yeah, full blown doctor. Got the little 'MD' after my name and everything."

He beamed at me. "That's so great! Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Nicky." It fell quiet between us once again, and I could hear ERRA's set beginning. "Well, I should probably-"

He spoke over me. "Yeah! Those guys put on a great show. Don't miss it!"

I gave him another hug, reveling in how warm he still felt.

Turning to walk away, I stopped, needing one last thing...

"Nick?"

His face turned back to me.

"How is he?"

I could see the sadness fall over his tan features, and I instantly regretted asking.

"He's..." He trailed off, taking in a large breath. "He's different, Y/N. I doubt you'd recognize him."

"How so?"

Something about my question almost seemed to annoy him. Odd?

"Like I said, a lot has changed. He's changed. He had to." He gestured to me. "Same way you did."

I accepted this, not wanting to press any further. "Thanks, Nick."

He pointed a finger at me. "Hey, we're going to be back here in the fall for a couple days. Don't be a stranger, okay?" I grinned at this. "I know Jolly and Folio would kill to see you."

I just nodded, turning and walking away. My eyes met with Ray's, who was standing, watching my interaction. How much had she seen? Did she hear anything?

"Hey, what are you doing? You're missing ERRA!"

Her brows were pulled up suspiciously. "Who was that?" She pointed after Nick, who had now disappeared from the merch table.

I shook my head. "Oh, that guy? He's the bassist in the headliner band."

This wasn't good enough for her, I could tell by the way she pursed her lips. "Uh-huh. And...you just decided to chat him up like old friends?"

I groaned. "Ugh, how long were you standing there?"

She put all her weight on one hip. "Long enough to see you two talking like you've known each other before. Care to explain?"

Raylene was so nosey. She came by it honestly, her father being a police detective. But still, why did this matter?

"It's not a big deal, Ray. I'll tell you later."

I pulled on her arm, trying to lead her back to the concert hall, but she stood firm, eyeing me. I sucked my teeth in frustration.

"Damn it, alright, come here."

She followed me to the doors leading outside, and we stepped into the cool air.

"Alright, look, I've known Nick since I was ten."

Her eyes jumped. "Oh? Back in West Virginia?"

I nodded. "Exactly. I had no idea their band was going to be here."

"Do you know anyone else in the band?"

I glanced around, feeling wildly uncomfortable by the conversation.

"I may know the entire band."

Her eyes exploded, nearly shooting out of her face cartoonistically.

"What?! The whole band?" I just nodded. "Jesus, Y/N. That's insane!"

I giggled. "I guess. It's just a coincidence."

She smiled at me. "Well that's awesome! Do you want to see the rest of them after? They're doing a free merch signing."

Panic filled my chest, and I put a hand out to grab her shoulder. "No, no. I don't, uh..." I tried to keep my voice solid. "I don't keep in touch with them anymore."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh? Okay, if you're sure." Something in my voice must have made her feel my anxiety.

We turned, ready to make our way back inside.

"It is too bad. The lead singer's a real looker. I heard one of the girls in the crowd say his name was Noah Sebastian? He's pretty cute."

I almost walked straight into the door, my foot banging off of the pillar. Ray turned around to see me, and something about the look on my face made realization flash over her.

"Oh my God, are you ok-" She stopped dead, eyes widening again. "Wait..."

"Ray, don't." I knew what she had figured out.

"Noah..." I put my hands up, glancing around to ensure no one was looking at us. "As in...Noah? Your old best friend?!"

I shushed her harshly. "Please, Ray. I don't want to think about this."

"That's the guy?! Noah Sebastian is the guy that broke your heart?!"

I was going to actually vomit at that.

"Fuck! Can we not?!" I raised my voice, which made her snap her mouth closed. "Besides, I don't know a Noah Sebastian."

She looked confused. "Is that not his real name?"

I rolled my eyes, turning to walk back in. "It's his middle name."

I spaced out most of what was left of ERRA's set, just trying to put the pieces back together in my brain. This night had not turned into what I had hoped.

I just wanted one night, an easy night, to take a deep breath away from my hectic life. Instead, I was reliving some of my most painful memories, and had a headache to go right along with it from the alcohol. My chest vibrated, the bass just making it so much more difficult to focus.

I stood off of the GA floor, near the bar area, not even realizing the band had finished, and people were swarming to grab drinks and use the restrooms before the men of the evening appeared. Ray approached me, another Vodka cran in her hand, and pushed it into mine.

"Here my love, drink this." I took a long gulp of it. "Do you want us to go? We don't have to stay..."

My eyes were fixed on the stage, where I could see people setting up the equipment. "No." I huffed out a breath, and squeezed my cup. "No, I want to see them play, I think."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're sure? This can't be easy for you."

My eyes burned into her face, which almost made her flinch. "I may never get to see him again, Ray. I have to."

She just nodded, arm linking with mine. "You want to watch from up here?"

I nodded, crunching on a piece of ice from my drink. "No chance of him spotting me back here."

She affirmed my request, and leaned back against the wall with me.

I felt my phone vibrate, and I pulled it from my pocket to see Tyler's name on the screen.

Tyler: Hey beautiful! How's the show?

I held my breath. What kind of a question was that?

Me: Fine. Almost over, just one band left.

He didn't take but a minute to respond.

Tyler: Having fun?

Ha, what a joke.

Me: Yeah. I've had some drinks, so it's helping.

Tyler: Well, enjoy it baby! You deserve it.

That wasn't fair. None of it was. Having to see Noah? The fact that I had an amazing guy, who genuinely liked me, who waited for me. But I still couldn't get my mind off of that irritatingly beautiful face about to take the stage.

The lights went down, and I felt myself tense, throwing back the rest of my drink. My teeth were numb, if that made any sense at all. Ray's hand gripped mine tight, holding me up.

A cinematic scene played on the screens, but I wasn't watching, eyes hastily searching the stage.

A tall man, who I instantly recognized as Jolly, stepped center-stage, a guitar in his hand playing the opening riff to the song. It was heavy, deep and soul shaking.

Folio came out next, his face, like Jolly's, covered in a black ski mask.

Nick took his spot, playing his bass tones.

And then, as the opening crescendoed, a voice rang through the speakers.

A voice I'd never forget.

"Can you hear me through the white noise?"

He blasted onto the stage, glory and all, face covered and thick black jacket on his shoulders.

He sounded different. Angry. Raw, Aggressive. The feeling that sank in my stomach pulled me back further against the wall.

The song played through, his words pulsing through my veins.

As quick as it had started, it was over, and we were on to the next.

The next track was calmer, red lights glowing all throughout the stage.

They had all removed their masks, and I saw his face for the first time. He looked so much older, making it difficult for me to believe he was the same person.

The words of the song resonated deep in my thoughts.

"I don't want to know all your secrets, cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on..."

Breathing deeply, I watched as the crowd moved with the music, electrifying the energy in the room. It was intoxicating.

Noah had changed...

The set played on without hitch, the entire time I caught myself holding in breaths until I felt my lungs nearly bursting. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, feeling the familiar ache beginning to creep back in.

The music stopped, and a bunch of lights came up. By this time, Noah had discarded his jacket, button-up, and only stood in a black tank top, hands wrapped in what looked like boxing wraps?

"Alright, Boston, how we feeling?" His speaking voice even sounded different...

The crowd erupted.

"We are Bad Omens, and we sincerely appreciate you all being here tonight. The next song we are going to play for you all has been the biggest turning point this band has ever seen." I heard the screams, and did my best to tune them out so I could hear his words. "Is anyone familiar with a song called Just Pretend?"

The room rocked with the cheers and chants of the crowd.

"That volume that I just heard? That's the volume I want to hear you sing this with me, okay? Don't worry about trying to hit the perfect note or get all of the words right. It's about us all, being here together tonight."

The music played softly behind him when his lips reached the microphone.

"I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I can wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you..."

My heart twisted in my chest.

"I'm not afraid, of the war you've come to wage against my sins. I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend. So will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out?"

The tears pooled in my eyes. No fucking way. The song played on, mocking me with the lyrics.

"I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face. And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same."

"We'll try again, when we're not so different. We will make amends, till then I'll just pretend."

My hands came up to cover my face, my lip trembling hard.

"Weigh down on me. Stay till morning. Way down. Would you say I'm worthy?"

I choked on a sob, my legs pushing me forward, and I ran out of the room. I felt my stomach lurching, my mouth clamping closed as I ran toward the bathroom.

I heard Ray chasing behind me. "Y/N! Wait!"

Flying into the bathroom and finding the first open stall, I fell to my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. My hands gripped my hair, tears falling hard down my face.

"Oh God, babe." Ray reached to grab my hair from me as I wretched all of the Vodka out of my stomach, my heart and soul pouring out with it.

When I finished, I let my chest heave with sobs, my hand covering my eyes in ebarrassment.

"Fuck, Ray." I said as I wiped my face with the tissue she handed me. "I've got to get the hell out of here."

She nodded. "Okay, my love. Let's do that."

After a solid twenty minutes of cleaning myself up in the bathroom, we stepped out, noticing the crowd now formed outside, waiting at the table for the band to come out for the signing. Ray was frantically dialing Sean, trying to find him among the sea of people. I just plopped myself down on the floor near the restroom, trying to relax as best as I could.

"Y/N?" I looked up at her. "I have to go find Sean. He isn't answering. Can you wait here for me?"

I just nodded, defeated. She was gone, lost within the abyss of people, and I sat, waiting, head in my hands.

I was pulled out of my stupor by the sound of cheering. The band had come out, all waving and smiling. I didn't even bother chancing a glance at him, for fear I may vomit again.

Ray had not come back yet, despite the four or five texts I had now sent her. I had been waiting for a solid thirty minutes, people watching the line and avoiding seeing his face. The ropes of the line were blocking my view of the faces sitting at the table.

After another fifteen, Ray finally bounded up to me, out of breath, Sean in tow.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry! That crowd is vicious!"

I stood slowly, the room only slightly spinning. I swallowed the dry, disgusting feeling in my throat, and began moving toward the exits that were now mostly clear.

"Let's go." She nodded at me, and took my arm. We had to wait behind several people trying to all get through the same revolving door. My skin felt spiky and cold.

"Hang on! Wait!"

A voice behind me made ice run through my veins, and I closed my eyes, begging whatever God existed to spare me in this moment.

A hand gripped my shoulder, and I tensed, turning my face, and my eyes looked straight at him.

He had spotted me, running from his table to catch me. He had to have been pretty damn sure it was me to chase after me like that. Fans began to crowd us, camera phones coming out, pictures snapping.

The look on his face was much less certain than I expected, as if he possibly made a mistake.

"I'm sorry..." His voice was unsteady. "Do I," He cleared his throat, eyes bouncing back and forth between my own. "know you?"

My eyebrows shot up. He really didn't recognize me?

He thought he did, but now...

"No. I don't think so." I spit out my words, teeth grinding together. It felt exactly the same as the last time I had seen him.

He dropped his hand, eyes still transfixed on mine. "I swore..."

I just turned my body, pressing my way past the gathered crowd, not giving him the chance to think it through.

In the car, I stared out the back window, arms wrapped around myself.

"What did he say, honey?" Ray's voice was so gentle.

"He didn't recognize me. He thought he did, but once he got up close, I guess I look too different." My words were only a peg above a whisper.

"You going to be okay? I don't have to stay at Sean's."

I just wiped the stray tear off of my cheek. "It's fine. I'd rather be alone."

-

A long, scalding shower, two handfuls of shredded cheese, and a solid half-hour crying session later, I was laid catatonically on my bed, eyes staring at the screen as Grey's Anatomy flashed across my screen.

I had blanked my mind out, forcing myself to let the thoughts go for the night. I was too tired and broken to let my heart hurt like this again. It took a solid year to get over Noah enough that I was able to function again. My first year of med school was disappointing, and I didn't make any friends until I made it into the second year. It took me nearly three to start dating.

I couldn't do that again.

I had been ignoring the texts going off on my phone, assuming it was Ray just checking on me for the thousandth time. I did, however, decide to take a look when I heard my ringtone going off.

Who would be calling me at 2AM?

I didn't even bother checking the screen before I put the phone up to my ear, my voice hoarse from crying.

"Hello?"

"What are the odds that you haven't changed your number after all this time?"

I sat bolt upright, my voice catching in my throat. The voice on the other end sounded nearly as wrecked as mine.

"Noah?" It barely came out.

"It's been a long time."

I cleared the newly formed phlegm out of my throat. "It has."

"I knew that was you." It sounded deadly quiet in the background of his end of the line. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming tonight?"

I sighed. "Nick told you?"

"He might've."

I groaned. "Well, I asked him not to."

"Why?"

I scoffed. "What do you mean, why?" I rubbed my eyes. "We're not exactly speaking anymore, Noah."

He hummed. "That's true."

I chewed on my lip, not having any kind of clue of what to say.

"What did you think?"

"Of the show?"

"Mhm."

I sighed. "It was good. Different than what I would have expected."

A soft laugh came through the line. "How so?"

I smiled at that. "It's just a lot different than what I expected your music to sound like."

"In a bad way?"

"No. Not at all."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." His voice was so serious. So monotone. Nothing at all like what I remembered.

The line fell silent again, and I found this irritating. What was he playing at?

"Why did you call, Noah?"

I heard a breath on the other end, and some rustling. "I don't know."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have."

"Maybe. I wanted to hear your voice."

My stomach tightened. "Now you have. I should go."

"Wait..." I held the phone firm, waiting. "I want to see you."

My heart pounded. "What?"

"I need to see you." His words were so matter-of-fact.

"I don't think so, Noah. That's not a great idea."

"It's not, but I'm asking..." He sounded so small. "Can I please see you?"

I perused the idea. "When?"

"Now?"

I scrunched up my face, sitting up again. "Now? It's after two in the morning."

"I don't care. I'll come to wherever you are."

This struck me. Maybe he hadn't changed?

"I, uh," I struggled to speak. "Noah, I don't know. I'm at home, it's late. I should be sleeping."

"Y/N?" I stopped, listening. "Please?"

I am a weak woman, and that is just plain fact. I was frantically running throughout the apartment, attempting to tidy any kind of mess I could get my hands on. Ray and I hadn't taken the time to really clean in months, so it was stressing me out. My pajama pants were hanging low on my hips, and I swam in my large sweatshirt.

My hair was falling loose around my face, and I was sure my eyes were puffy from the crying I had done. How insane was I? Had I completely lost it?

It was almost 3AM when a knock came at my apartment door, and I froze in place. What was I doing? Why was I allowing this to happen? I didn't need to do this to myself.

I was fine, living in my normal, tired bubble. I was headed towards a successful career that would take me further than I ever imagined. Why was I allowing this trainwreck of a friendship back into my life? What was I thinking?!

I wasn't. That was the answer to that question.

I opened the door, not sure what to expect on the other side. He stood, still as tall as I remembered, looming in the doorway. He wore a black hoodie, hands tucked neatly in the pocket. Dark blue jeans and black Converse. A white beanie covering his hair.

Like this, he looked almost recognizable. Except for his eyes...

Just like in the photograph I had seen earlier, his eyes were so dark. There was very little life behind them. Deep blue circles hung under the rims, making a pull in my chest show itself.

I just stood, blocking the doorway, hand white-knuckling the frame.

"Hi." Was all he managed. He was staring at me, eyes moving up and down my face as if he was seeing an apparition.

"Hi." I echoed, trying to not feel out of place under his stare.

"I'm glad you agreed to see me." He didn't move an inch, his jaw ticking closed with his last work.

I just nodded, letting out all of my air. "Yeah, well, you were insistent."

He nodded, finally looking away from me and down at the ground.

"I had to."

I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes. "Did you?" He raised a brow at me. "Did you just have to see me? Because I think we probably would've been alright without it."

I could see his face fall, hurt by what I said, but I didn't care. He never did.

"I'm sorry. I know it's selfish."

"Mm," I pinched my lips together, and opened my door wider. "come in."

I stalked back into the house, not daring to look back at him. I heard the door shut behind me, and I steadied myself, expecting to turn around and see him vanished.

To my chagrin, he was still there.

Deciding not to stagnate, I walked into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of tea from the fridge, and walking back out to the living area. He hadn't moved, and was still staring at me.

"So." I motioned to him. "What can I do for you?"

Noah was so statuesque, as if carved right out of stone. "I don't really know."

My face lifted, a smirk on my lips. "You don't know? Noah," I placed a hand on my hip. "you show up here at 3AM, and you have no idea why?"

He shrugged, eyes begging me for mercy. "I'm sorry. I don't."

"Can you stop apologizing and just tell me why you're here?!" My patience snapped, startling even me.

This took him back, but instead of tucking tail and backing away, he stood straighter, face hardening.

"I can't tell you why I'm here if I don't know, alright?" His words were stern.

"Well you must have some kind of reason? Because this feels wildly unnecessary."

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "It is? So you didn't want to see me?"

I set my tea on the coffee table and stood nonchalantly. "Not really."

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't buy it." He took a step toward me, but I stood firm. "If you didn't you wouldn't have stayed, tonight. You would've left after you saw the band your friends went to see."

He was closer now, and it felt like a string had tethered between us, the tension slowly slacking.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to see your set. See how the band was doing."

He snickered at me. "Oh, sure. Of course." His hands finally appeared from his pockets, one running over his chin. "Which song was your favorite?"

Oop. I wasn't expecting that.

"The second one. Villain, or something?"

He nodded. "Like A Villain." Noah's eyes weren't buying it. "Which one did you like least?"

I scoffed. "I don't know, Noah? The first one?"

"Mm, and which one was that?"

I was swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn't remember, the night blurring together.

"Uh, I don't know the name."

He took a step back, triumphant. "You weren't there for the set. You wanted to see me."

Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms. "Still as self-absorbed as ever, I see?"

"Am I wrong?"

He had me backed into a corner, and he fucking knew it.

I threw my arms up. "Fine! Maybe I did. But you wanted to see me too."

He sneered at me, venom on his lips. "Obviously, or else I wouldn't be here."

"You still haven't said why."

"Why did you want to see me?"

My voice was raising, frustration growing. "I don't know!"

"I don't know either!" He yelled back at me, and my mouth snapped closed. Noah never raised his voice at me. Not ever.

He took three long strides over to me until he was only stood a foot away.

"I didn't expect to ever see you again, Y/N! I thought you were gone forever! So imagine my surprise when I see you walking out of the House of Blues, and you deny even knowing me!"

I felt like shrinking into a ball right there on the floor, ceasing to exist.

"I wanted to see you because how could I not?! Seven fucking years, Y/N!" He backed down for a second, his breathing becoming ragged. "I've been waiting seven years."

I furrowed my brow. "Waiting?"

"For you to reach out. To tell me you missed me. To give me some kind of indication we could reconcile and be us again."

There was a fire, deep down in my gut, that I had never been able to truly extinguish. A fire Noah had lit years ago. A mine shaft burning like the depths of hell in my belly that I had buried under concrete and therapy, keeping it at bay.

In my apartment, tonight, that fire broke loose. And there was no stopping it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I took a step forward, pressing into his space, index finger jabbing into his chest. "I was supposed to reach out?!"

He took a step back, eyes now full of fear.

"I professed my love to you, Noah! I told you I wanted you, and you fucking left!"

He puffed at me, pointing a finger back at me. "You told me to leave!'

"Yes! Because you told me you didn't love me! You told me you couldn't love me the way I loved you!"

He squeezed his lids shut tight, growling and turning away from me, taking several steps away. His hands came up, gripping the beanie on his head.

"God damn it Y/N!" He turned to look at me, a fiery rage matching my own behind his eyes. "Of course I fucking loved you!"

My heart stopped, completely motionless.

"What?"

"I've always loved you! From the moment I laid fucking eyes on you! I've never loved anyone, no one, the way I loved you!" He charged me, backing me toward the couch. "But I couldn't love you, Y/N! I wasn't good enough. I was a piss-poor high school dropout musician trying to make a name for himself, and, until recently, failing miserably."

I couldn't speak, thoughts racing so fast, I struggled to keep up.

"And you?" He pointed a finger back into my chest. "You were smart, and motivated, and you were going to make something of yourself. I couldn't drag you down with me. I couldn't force you to follow this journey with me. It would've ruined your life!"

My lungs weren't working right, and my hands were shaking. He wasn't actually saying this. I was hallucinating.

"So I left. I left to give you a chance at a real life. Which, evidently, you've managed to build without me." He took a step back, then, dropping his hands. "And I, somehow, without you."

This hurt me, hearing he had managed to become so successful, despite my involvement.

"Noah, I had no idea-"

"No," He cut me off. "you didn't."

I hadn't even caught the tears falling from my eyes, blurring my vision until he was just a watery mess in front of me.

"You didn't need me." I choked out, and he looked directly at me, inquisitively. "You've made it so far. You're a rockstar now, Noah."

He scoffed. "Y/N, you don't get it." He looked away from me, focused on the wall behind me. "I died without you. Something inside of me was lost the day I left, and I never got it back."

"Well, you're successful now, so it can't be so bad, right?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Success always comes with a price."

My lips were wet with the tears I couldn't hold in, and I couldn't keep my breathing even. I knew he saw it, but hesitated to engage, wanting to keep a wide berth between us. I couldn't take it. It was too much.

Hearing he loved me. Hearing I had been wrong all this time. Hearing that the heartbreak I felt for so long wasn't his fault. He was protecting me, even after all these years.

"Noah?" He chanced a glance at me, and I saw his own eyes sparkling with moisture.

I couldn't take it.

I rushed him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and clinging on, desperate to find relief against him. My lips smashed into his, tearing apart the barrier I had worked so hard to build.

His hands grabbed me, holding me into place against him, his lips melted into mine, returning the kiss fervently. We were hopeless. We were hungry.

My tears didn't stop flowing, emotion pouring out of every pore. My fingers clawed at him, needing to get closer. My hand grabbed the beanie, and pulled it off of his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. I gripped it at the scalp, trying to pull myself closer.

Feeling what I was attempting to do, his hands lifted me by the back of my legs, so I could wrap them around his midsection. I refused to disconnect the kiss, breathing in his soul. It was so real and so familiar. How I missed it like hell.

His legs carried us to the couch, where he sat us down. My legs straddled him, and I finally pulled away to tug at the sweatshirt he wore. He made quick work of pulling it up over his head while I did the same with my own. Reconnecting our lips, my hands wandered over his neck and chest, scratching at the fabric of his shirt.

His teeth caught my bottom lip, and I moaned into his mouth. His fingers pulled at the waistband of my pajama pants, and I lifted myself enough to slip them off, replacing myself on his lap. His jeans were already getting tighter as his hands smoothed up and down my thighs.

"Fucking hell." He looked down, staring at my bare breasts in front of him. "These got bigger, huh?"

I laughed, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, well, things change."

His fingers gripped around my left breast, lips falling to circle around the hardened nipple. I let my head fall back, relishing in the warm feeling spreading throughout my body.

"Still so fucking beautiful, just like I remember." I pulled at the hair on the back of his neck. "Did you miss me, baby girl?"

I ground my hips down against him in response. His hand began playing with the button of his jeans, and I moved it away to open them myself.

I stood up to pull his jeans down to his knees, his boxers bulging in the crotch.

"Oh, fuck." I sighed out. "Yeah, I missed you."

His smile then was devious, some of that regular spark shining back in his eyes. "Then show me, huh?"

Reaching into the opening of his underwear, I pulled his cock free, taking a moment to remember just how large it was. It had been a very long time since I had seen anything quite that impressive. Dipping my head down, I licked a long stripe up the shaft, lingering on the head to gather the precome leaking out.

"Holy shit." His head fell back on the couch, his eyes rolling back with it. "Mm, do that again, please?"

I smirked, looking up at him. "Only since you asked so nicely."

My tongue repeated the movement, drawing out a hard groan out of him, his legs twitching. "Fuck yeah, baby."

Without warning, I wrapped my lips around him and swallowed him as far down as my throat would allow, gagging on the tip as it struck my tonsils. His hips jolted upward, effectively fucking my throat.

"Please, Y/N, I won't last that way." He begged, his words only coming out as breaths. "I need to feel you, please."

He was begging, and I couldn't resist it. I needed him too.

I stood back up, and kneeled on either side of him, carefully lining him up with my entrance. When I sunk down, that delicious burn pierced through me, and my body collapsed onto him at the intensity of it.

"Noah, oh my God." He ran a hand up my back, allowing me a moment to adjust.

"I know, baby. I know." He soothed me, rubbing small circles into my skin.

My hips stuttered forward, needing to feel the friction. His hand reached down to grab my ass, and lifted me upward. Without warning, his hips snapped forward and fucked into me, making a sharp scream leave my lips.

My face rested on his chest, whimpers falling from my throat with each hard thrust.

"Fuck, you missed me, pretty girl?" He was panting between his words, his rhythm picking up speed. "Missed the way I fuck you?"

My eyes were rolling back, the tears from before now replaced with tears of raw pleasure.

"I'll bet you've never been fucked like this, huh?" His words were just tones of desire playing in my ears, his cock absolutely destroying me. "No one can fuck you like I can, baby. No one."

My nails dug hard into his shirt, begging for release.

"Let me know when you come, baby. Not finishing until you do."

Luckily for him, I was riding the edge so hard it was making the room spin. Biting my lip to keep from screaming, I lifted myself to look at his face.

"Noah," I searched his eyes, his hips not faltering. "I love you."

He grit his teeth, trying to focus on me and his hips at the same time. "I love you, too. So fucking much."

My face fell back down, landing on the side of his neck. "I'm going to come. Please, Noah, I'm so close..."

He, somehow, managed to pump into me harder, sending my body over the cliff and into the warm waves of my orgasm. My body went slack against him as my walls pulsed around his length.

I heard him curse, and his hips stilled. I felt him spasming inside me, and silently thanked myself for my IUD.

We laid that way, sweaty and heaving, for a solid ten minutes before either of us could find the strength to move. I slipped him out of me, and sat up to look at him. He looked absolutely wrecked, in the best possible way.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread over me.

"Hi." Was all I could manage.

He chuckled tiredly. "Hi."

-

After our excursion, Noah and I had taken a few minutes to clean up, and, being as exhausted as you'd expect, decided to lay together for a while.

He told me he had to leave within a few hours to get back to his hotel, heading to the next city bright and early, so I told him I'd stay up until he had to leave.

However, in my bed, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his voice whispering sweet words in my ears, I struggled to remain conscious.

"Do you remember when I bought you that Oasis album for your fourteenth birthday? That was basically me professing my love to you."

"I was such an idiot. I should've just told you."

"You have no idea how much I've missed you. I don't think you'll ever understand."

"I'm so sorry. I wish things were different..."

And that's how I woke up, light in my bedroom far too bright, and my bed empty.

I don't know what I expected? For him to stay? Fuck off his tour to make up for lost time with me?

But still, my chest stung when I saw he had left, but I wasn't surprised.

Something had changed last night, and the darkness that lingered in the depths of my being had lifted, leaving me with a sense of hope I hadn't felt before.

When I had woken for the day, clearing the cobwebs from my eyes, I contemplated my next move. He had surely left town already, but that didn't mean I couldn't keep in touch, right?

Pulling out my phone, I found his contact, and opened a text thread.

Me: Hey, call me when you can. I think we have a lot to talk about. :)

I set my phone down on the bathroom counter, preparing to brush my teeth when my phone dinged, and the notification told me the text had failed.

Odd?

I resent it, getting the same response.

Why would my messages fail? I paid my bill, right?

Quickly dialing Ray's number, I held the phone to my ear and heard the ringing, so I knew my service was fine. Giving her a quick apology for waking her, I hung up, and went back to my texts.

His number was the same, right?

I went back to my call logs, seeing it was his number that called me last night, so it was the same as it had always been.

So...what the hell?

My finger hovered over the number for a moment, and I weighed the options before finally resolving to just call him. Make sure I wasn't losing my mind.

I held the phone to my face as I started brushing my teeth, waiting for the call to connect.

"The number you have reached is not in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again."

[mxtxfanatic]

Hm, I know I said at least in my first reading of mdzs that I felt like Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were actually friends as kids, I would like to remind folks that the catastrophic breakdown of their friendship was not because of some misplaced care but because Jiang Cheng is a stagnant character whose whole role in the story is to be the one who never learns, changes, and grows past his insecurities and resentments. They were always going to fall out with each other, even if the Sunshot Campaign never happened, even if the Wen Clan didn’t exist as a subjugating force terrorizing the other clans, because no matter how much Jiang Cheng cares about anyone, he will always place his personal resentments first.

I’m so serious: reread the pre-fall of Lotus Pier parts of the novel (flashback extras included), and tell me how many times Jiang Cheng says something genuinely nice about or to the benefit of Wei Wuxian without prompting. Point to me places where Jiang Cheng puts himself on the line for Wei Wuxian that is not him distracting the Wen. Compare the number of unambiguously positive interactions they have to the number of interactions they have in total, and I bet you’ll see that the positives are laughingly scant. Most every interaction they have together, Jiang Cheng is being a negative nancy. He’s the type of friend who, if you said “Today is a good day!” would snidely respond back, “What’s so good about?” before loudly complaining about what a nuisance your happiness is. Jiang Cheng is the type of friend that tells you that everyone else hates you because you’re so annoying, and you need to do something about that because he also finds you annoying so you should be lucky he “puts up with” you. And all of this negativity can be directly traced back to the resentment Jiang Cheng feels caused by his own mother projecting her insecurities onto him. Jiang Cheng, who cannot grow, learn, or change, is unable to extract his own self from his mother’s insecurities, ending up inheriting them as his own, instead.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like teen!Jiang Cheng is some irredeemable monster (that is reserved for his adult self), but Wei Wuxian already shows signs of being tired of his attitude as kids. He snaps at Jiang Cheng rudeness in the lotus pod seeds extra. He constantly admonishes Jiang Cheng about his blatant disregard for the lives and safety of other people. Most of the time, Wei Wuxian won’t even engage in the petty little remarks that Jiang Cheng makes, just treating it like nobody had spoken at all. The only times Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian move as a unit is when they have a common enemy—like Jin Zixuan—but without that, they are only held together by the fact that…they’ve been friends for a long time.

And this kinda leads me back to the point about the yunmeng friendship not being able to withstand the test of time even without an outside conflict: I would place the point of no return for their relationship at Wei Wuxian killing the xuanwu of slaughter, not at the fall of Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian is one of two individuals that killed a mythological bloodthirsty creature responsible for hundreds of deaths, spent a week in a coma from his injuries and lack of immediate care, and what does he get for it? Jiang Cheng shows up with soup gifted to Wei Wuxian by Jiang Yanli, except he’s eaten all the meat out of it. Jiang Fengmian gives the most lukewarm praise to Wei Wuxian for his achievements—which Wei Wuxian neither complained about nor called him out for—because they were both trying to be mindful of Jing Cheng’s insecurities, and Jiang Cheng still made it about himself. When Madam Yu storms in to yell about how Wei Wuxian is a “bastard child” and he’s just trying to show off, Jiang Cheng consciously and unambiguously sides with his mother. Wei Wuxian had to drag his feverish body out of bed—after just awakening from a week-long coma—to placate pity-party Jiang Cheng, and the only thing that makes him feel better is not promises of continued friendship but of servitude. Even if at this point Wei Wuxian was still viewing Jiang Cheng as a—admittedly caustic—friend, Jiang Cheng’s view had fully transitioned from “annoying friend my mother hates” to “the servant I need to keep in line lest he overshadows me.” If anything, the fall of Lotus Pier, the debt placed on Wei Wuxian by the Jiang leaders, and the subsequent war probably allowed their friendship to last longer than it naturally would have (remember, they are only united against outside forces).

All this to say that while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian may have started out as genuine friends in their childhood, their transition to enemies has absolutely nothing to do with that care. Sometimes we fall out with people because we just do not like them as people. Jiang Cheng’s resentment prevented him from appreciating Wei Wuxian as a person, leading to the end of their friendship and their descent into eventual enemies. Not misplaced or warped care, just pure, undeniable resentment.

[neteyamssock]

🧸ྀི 𝓲 𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾

ྀི 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚: neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

ྀི 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: neteyam wants to know why you dislike him so much.

ྀི 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: 2k

ྀི 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦: misunderstanding, sfw, miscommunication, etc.

➻ a/n: wrote this while eating breakfast and its unedited. i hate it lmao.

text divider credits to @/cafekitsune

MASTERLIST

“She's so loud, does she think everyone is deaf?”

Neteyam watches you kick Ao’nung as you whine about your stolen prey, going as far as throwing stones into his direction. Frankly speaking, Neteyam finds you extremely immature and childish, even more so than Tuk.

Lo’ak snickered on his side, tossing a piece of shattered shell in the water and watched it disappear. “You’re the only one that kept complaining about her, bro. People here don't seem to mind.”

Neteyam sneered, picking up a shell beside and observing it as he spoke. “I’m sure they're just putting up with her because they cannot get rid of her.”

Lo’ak looked at his brother with amusement. Neteyam’s one sided beef with you is something none of the family expected, but he finds it interesting to see how his brother crumbles into self doubt when someone finally doesn't look at him like a god. “you’re just saying that because she doesn't like you like everybody else. you’re not used to being disregarded.”

He said it in a joking tone, but it only fanned the flames inside Neteyam. That is in fact one of the reasons why he came to dislike you very much aside from the fact that you're polar opposites. It was because right from the start, you never once showed any cordiality with him.

When the Sullys came into awa’atlu, as Tsireya and Ao’nung’s paternal cousin, you also tagged along in helping them learn the way of the water. At first, Neteyam finds you extremely interesting, like a breath of fresh air, but as time goes by and your treatment of him never changes, he also begins to resent you for it.

He’s not used to it. Just like Lo’ak said. All his life, he had done everything to please his family and the Omatikaya People, and even when they came to Awa’atlu, he had done his best in making everyone like him.

You're just one tough rock that he cannot crack no matter what he does. Smiles don't cut it. Fishes don't do it either. Pretty shells collected are a lot more mediocre than yours. He totally cannot figure you out. You seem to dislike him very much, going as far as pretending he doesn't exist. He was unprepared for it, a total disregard from someone he wanted to be close to from the very start.

“If I were you bro? I would talk to her about it and clear shit up rather than sulking everyday.” Lo’ak patted Neteyam’s shoulder as he stood up, ready to meet Tsireya half way as she walked back to the shore.

“what is there to talk about anyway?” Neteyam grumbled to himself, flicking the shells away in annoyance. Lo’ak just shrugged and walked away, totally enjoying seeing his perfect brother in dilemma.

The oldest sully once again looked at you as you play with Tuk and Kiri, seeing how happy you were with his sisters. Deep inside, he also knew why everyone loves you. Despite your loud mouth, you are always sincere. You always mean what you speak, and people appreciate your honesty and straightforwardness, well except for neteyam.

your questionable behavior directed towards him is getting on his nerves. he's at the end of his patience with you, but his self control is holding him back from erupting and asking what the hell is wrong with you.

days passed and the day for the bonfire communal feast arrived. neteyam had heard from his siblings that you and Tsireya are to dance and sing to eywa in celebration for the excellent results of the hunt done yesterday.

neteyam had never heard you sing, nor seen you dance. he never thought you could do those things, but based on his siblings' words, you're quite good and proficient. Tuk says your voice reminds her of eywa's gentle guidance, and your body as the ocean waves.

it's just another reminder that he never really knew you, that you built a wall around you to solely keep him out. that you could be free in front of his siblings but would be hard as a rock in front of him. how can you be so cruel?

"there's never gonna be any progress if you just sulk and sulk and sulk everyday. you have to understand that not everyone is obligated to like you."

neteyam glanced at his sister, bitterness in his tongue. "yea, real helpful sister."

"whatever," kiri rolled her eyes and focused on the kava in her hand, paying no attention to the distraught neteyam beside her.

when the tempo of the music changed and the people parted to reveal you and tsireya in the middle, neteyam felt his breath stolen away by your beauty. you are stunning, that he knew from the very start. he never expected to see you even more beautiful. you make him go crazy inside and he didn't even know why. no matter how you ignore him, he cannot do the same to you. you're always clouding his mind, making him sleepless every eclipse.

neteyam knew that he's being obvious by not taking his eyes off you the entire performance, he knew that his mother are looking at him every time his breath hitch like he couldn't breath, he knew that kiri is laughing at him, but he just cannot stop looking at you.

so when the time to dance with other members of the clan came, he didn't hesitate to stand up and walk towards you in hopes that he'd catch you and ask you for at least one dance.

"can i ask for a dance?" he asked, breathless and hopeful as he looked towards you.

he saw you hesitate, and his newfound confidence shattered. his lips trembled until you took his hand and murmured. "...just once."

Tsireya looked at Neteyam’s yearning look directed at you and giggled to herself. Lo’ak also saw his face and snickered. “he totally has a crush on her! he’s just mad she doesn't pay attention to him.”

The younger metkayina girl’s eyes widened. Then, she quickly accepted it. It's not like she hadn't noticed that tension between you and Neteyam. She thought both of you will figure it out yourselves that's why she didn't interfere at all, but turns out both of you are dense enough that you're still not confronting each other about what you feel.

She looked at you and decided to finally help you out. Turning to her beloved, she said. “Sister does not dislike Neteyam. She's just like that to everyone she likes.”

It was Lo’ak’s turn to be wide-eyed. “No shit? Really?! I mean she never gave him a good look y'know? Totally acting like he doesn't exist…”

Tsireya pulled Lo’ak to sit with her in the sand. “Sister does not know how to deal with her feelings properly. When we were children, she once liked a boy from another clan that visited awa’atlu. He played with us all the time and really liked sister. But since she didn't know what to do, she accidentally made him cry before he and his family were about to leave. When the eclipse came, she cried so hard that it became everyone's favorite story to talk about during communal feasts.”

Lo’ak laughed but then slowly turned melancholic. Somehow, he relates to you. Often misunderstood because you cannot express yourself correctly, and it drives you to keep your thoughts on your own even more. “That’s sad… my brother… My brother is not really the one to pursue feelings. Back in the forest most of the girls our age liked him, some he was interested in, but really didn't bother doing something for it. He’s too busy taking care of us and training to be a good warrior. I don't know if he and your sister can even work it out at this point,”

Tsireya hummed, looking at you and to Neteyam every few seconds, before an idea formed in her mind. “I know exactly what to do!”

Lo’ak looked at his beloved’s bright face and can only pray for his brother’s well-being.

sitting down after dancing with neteyam, you friend immediately sat beside you with a grin. "how does it feel to dance with your beloved?"

you rolled your eyes despite the racing of your heart. you cannot admit that you almost sang in joy when neteyam asked for a dance. you didn't even know what happened during the dance as you just gone blank. he might have thought you were uninterested as he left right after the first dance finished. although you felt at loss, you acted like nothing and continued dancing with others.

seeing you like this, your friend teased you even further. “why don't you just go and proclaim your intentions, hmm? that you want to mate with ne—”

you covered your friend's mouth, scared that someone might hear. "be quiet will you! what if someone hear?"

your friend shrugged, "then you'd probably be forced to confront your feelings and then there would be celebration for your uni---"

"impossible," you cut her off. "we are never possible right from the very beginning. he's from the forest, i'm from the ocean."

"so what? you are both na'vi and obviously liked each other."

you sneered. like you? impossible. why would someone as perfect as neteyam like you?

he's the most perfect na'vi you have ever seen. a skilled warrior, with kind and loyal heart, and would do everything for his beloved family. he's the son of Toruk Makto, admired and well-liked. you? you're just a daughter of a warrior, a niece to the olo-eyktan of the metkayina. you have no real status, no great skills like neteyam.

you do not deserve him. "eywa knows that's not true, sister. eywa knows."

Walking into the lush greeneries of the island, you wonder where your friends are. Tsireya said she wanted everyone to gather in your secret place and play the demon’s game Truth or Dare. Although you detest sky demons, it didn't diminish your curiosity for their creations.

So against your better judgment, you still came when the eclipse started. Thankfully, you know your way in quite well and didn't get lost in your trek to the heart of the island.

As you went further, you began to notice the lack of noise your friends usually make. Lo’ak should be laughing boisterously by now, Tuk screaming, and Kiri wandering around. But no matter how you strain your ears, you don't hear any familiar noises.

So when you reached the hut where you and your friends planned to stay, you were shocked to see only Neteyam inside, seemingly waiting for everyone to show up.

Your feet froze and you cannot stop your heart from racing, hammering against your chest making you gasp for breath. Your heavy breathing was quickly noticed by Neteyam who was also surprised to see you.

The gears in your head turned and you already knew what your friends were doing. It must be Tsireya, who always can see through you and your thoughts. She must’ve conspired with everyone to deceive you and Neteyam.

Without thinking things through, you turned around and walked back to where you came from, but before you could even take a few steps, a hand forcefully held you back.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going home.”

“But shouldn't we wait for the others?”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled your arm out of his grip. “Don’t you understand? They set us up for their own amusement. Now, if you can please let me go. I can't be alone with you right now. I swear to Eywa I will feed that girl to an akula—”

“Why can’t you be alone with me? Do you hate me that much?!”

“What’s your problem?!” You glared at him when he pulled you again, his fingers digging into your shoulder.

“No, what is YOUR problem?!” He looked at you sharply, trying to mask the hurt he felt inside when he heard your words. He had always known you don't like him, but to hear you imply yourself definitely hurts the most. Shaking his head, he continued. “Y’know what? Perhaps this is the time we finally talk. So tell me now, ocean girl! What the hell is your problem with me!”

You let out an unbelievable huff, feeling ridiculous as you shouted back. “Me?! It’s you always shooting daggers at me every time we meet! Why is that my fault?!”

“Because you treat me like shit!”

Both you and Neteyam froze with his outburst. He looked rather regretful for allowing himself to be vulnerable, especially in front of you. His self control is crumbling away.

“I do not treat you like shit! Don’t make things up!”

“Oh yeah, right! Maybe you don't treat me like shit because you treat me like I don’t exist! Don’t act like you don't ignore me all the time, as if it's a great burden for you to even pay me any attention. I’m tired of your shit! So tell me, what is your problem, ocean girl, so we can finally end this farce!”

With mouth agape, you stared wide-eyed at Neteyam. You have never seen him this angry before. Most of the time he’s mellow and polite, always greeting you every time you hang out with his siblings. It's only recently that he had somehow changed, always glaring at you, shooting daggers at you every time you passed by.

You tried to explain but you cannot find the right words. Looking at you like this, it only solidified Neteyam’s belief. The hurt in his eyes was palpable, so he looked away. He can't let you see him so affected by you. His pride is the only thing he can cling to right now, as you have stripped away everything from him.

“What? Couldn't speak? Did I hit the mark, ocean girl?

You gasp, chest heaving so fast as your heart rammed against your ribs. You cannot look into his eyes, too afraid to let him see the feelings you are trying so hard to avoid. “...I-I don’t dislike you, I-I—”

“Liar! You can't even look me in the eye! Tell me the truth!”

“I-I don't want to!”

“Well guess what, you cannot leave this island without telling the truth. Tell me, and I’ll let you go.” His tone has mellowed, a hint of begging in his voice. His grip on your shoulder was tight, it was hurting you but you cannot ignore the voice in your head that urges you to just tell everything and end this ridiculous argument.

“tell me, how can make you like me?"

your heart skipped a beat, processing his words. like him? you already like him so much that it hurts. how can he ask you that?

seeing you silenced, Neteyam’s chest constricted. His eyes stung, but he tried so hard to never let you notice. He cannot crumble in front of you. He doesn't want you to have the satisfaction. He wanted to hear you say that you hate him. That you detest him. That you cannot stand the thought of being with him. So it would destroy him silently, and he can finally rebuild himself piece by piece.

“Tell me!”

“I hate you because I love you!”

“Bull—”

Neteyam paused, eyes wide as he looked at you in disbelief. Your tears finally fell like waterfall as your knees gave away and you sobbed into the ground. You finally said it. The reason why you cannot sleep at night. The reason you tried so hard to avoid Neteyam in fear that he’ll see through you, that he’d be disgusted with your feelings with him. You tried to mask your love as dislike to protect your heart, because you know if you give in you’d just be shattered. You know well how this would end. He would never be yours.

“I-I hate you so much, Neteyam! For making me feel this w-way! I hate you for changing my life and making me c-confused! I hate you for making me fall for you!”

“W-What—”

You stood up without waiting for his reply. With all your strength, you ran away from Neteyam. You didn't care if your feet were hurting, and when you bumped into someone you didn't look at who it was. All you wanted was to leave this place and never see Neteyam again.

Lo’ak looked at your disappearing back and patted his brother's shoulder. Neteyam was still standing like a statue, in shock, staring at the direction you had escaped to.

“Cat’s finally out of the bag, huh. Took you guys long enough. Congrats bro, you finally confessed to your cru—”

Before Lo’ak could even finish his words, Neteyam took off like his tail’s on fire, running after you with a huge triumphant grin on his face. Tsireya and Lo’ak looked at each other and laughed, proud of their successful plan.

“Looks like I won this bet. Kiri better pays up!”

[mistressoftherant-blog]

TMNT Fanfic Complaints

As this blog is mostly a space to vent, and I am currently obsessed with pretty much every iteration of the TMNT, I thought I'd throw together a list of things that make me close a fanfic instantly. If you like any of these things, then that's totally fine, but for the most part, any of these things will have me dropping a fic in minutes. A few of these are aligned with posts I've made in the past, but I am noting them down anyway as this is a way of me getting out a lot of my major complaints at once 😅

No.1 Having all the brothers be abusive (particularly towards Mikey), with bonus points for any crossover that will then have one version of the turtles chastising the others for the way they treat their brothers. It just doesn't work, every set have very specific dynamics, but none of them are abusive.

No. 2 Crossover fics that make it impossible to tell who is who. This can occur in a few different ways. One of which is that the authors completely fail to differentiate different universes, making every single version of the turtles talk and act in the same way. Another is when a fic gets flooded with nicknames/pronouns/usernames, without a decent key. If you have a crossover fic with even just 3 or 4 universes, but every single turtle has multiple sets of pronouns, multiple nicknames, and multiple usernames, you really need a way to make it clear who is who.

No.3 The 'poor baby Blue' phenomenon in which every version of the turtles seemingly forgets all of the horror they have suffered because of what the Rise boys have gone through, particularly Leo. I honestly hate it when I am reading a crossover fic and all of the trauma from every series is disregarded in the face of the Rise Shredder and Rise Krang, which brings me on to my next point...

No.4 Essentially an extension of No.3, but can we all finally drop the idea that the Rise Boys had the scariest villains? Sure, their Shredder and Krang were intense, but for the most part, their villains are all pretty much played for comic relief. Either 03 or 12 had the scariest villains. And before anyone comes at me like 'Oh, Rise Shredder was a demon, the Rise Krang managed to take over the world, etc', may I remind everyone that 03 also had a demon Shredder who took over the world (and multiple others including the one who took over in SAINW), and the 12 Triceratons straight up destroyed the Earth with a black hole?

No.5 Fics that give away traits from one turtle to another e.g. making any of the other turtles better at science/math/tech etc than Donnie. Each of the turtles has their own thing, and Donnie will always be the smartest academics wise. It annoys me to no end when people try and make any if the others, usually Rise Leo or 12 Mikey, out to be a genius like him. I actually once read a fic where Rise Donnie asked Leo to help someone with a chemistry question that he couldn't handle. It's ridiculous, and usually carries over from the headcanon that Rise Leo is the medic (is there genuinely any evidence for this in the show besides Leo having a pouch? Because the only time I can recall anything medical related being brought up was when Donnie mentioned Raph's allergies). I have also seen people talk about Rise Leo loving to dance more than Donnie, even when the show explicitly states on multiple occasions how much Bootyyyshaker9000 loves to dance (also making Leo a massive theatre kid when Donnie breaks into songs and dance numbers on multiple occasions.) Or when 12 fans make Mikey the artist when it is actually Raph.

No. 6 (people will probably be mad at this one) Stop making everything about Leosagi, please! He doesn't even exist in the Rise verse, yet the entire fandom is absolutely swamped with Leosagi content. It's annoying when you are reading a Rise fic, and then out of nowhere it all becomes about Leo's relationship with Usagi. These fics also tend to make Usagi the most bland character in existence, with his two defining traits being samurai and Leo's boyfriend. They even do this to Bayverse!! Or bizarre crossover ships that start taking over everything (Why is Mikey being shipped with pretty much all of the spiderman iterations now??(

No. 7 Any fic that has all of the Donnies despise each other. I don't know if this is bias, but I feel like most of the Donnies would enjoy having people on their level to discussbthings with, people who would respect their boundaries and listen to each other's rants. And before anyone brings up their egos, most of the Donnies are shown to be able to and even enjoy working with others who are around their level (Aprils, Leatherhead in 03, Fugitoids etc). I actually think that, aside from the Mikeys, the Donnies would probably get on the best.

No. 8 One of my biggest pet peeves (that I have complained about before) is acting as if any version of the turtles is far superior to the others in terms of intelligence, fighting skills, etc. The Rise boys do not solo every verse. If they had had more training, then yeah, they would be probably some of the strongest characters. But they haven't had the training of the other verses, and mystic powers cannot compensate for everything (considering the fact that they got absolutely bodied by their Krang, you think more people would realise this). The other iterations pretty much all have more formal training, more experience fighting a variety of opponents (Bayverse and the 90s are perhaps an exception to the greater variety of opponents here, but as Bayverse Raph alone can yeet a shipping container singlehandedly with no powers, I think they're good). In no universe should the Rise boys be giving any of the other characters fighting tips.

I will probably write more of these at some point, this was pretty cathartic 😅 I also promise that I do not hate Rise, I just have more issues with the wider Rise fandom than most of the other shows.

[thewisaaaaad]

HAHAHA THE CLIFFHANGER SHALL... hang... some more i guess.

idk where i was going with that

anyway remember when I said that the lamb couldn't be around anyone but Narinder, and how they vanished whenever someone else would have seen them?

well I might have fibbed A LITTLE.

when the lamb ceased to be because of narinder having company, they ended up in the void, a realm of shadows. the very same shadows that the Teeth in the Darkness retreats to during the day. Even though the void is vast, fate saw it fit that they would meet sooner rather than later.

At first the Fox held no faith in the lamb. no one else, besides the teeth himself, should have access to their domain. and this lamb was FAR too exited to fit with the tale they spun, the dammed lamb had to have found a way to pierce their defenses and aim to take something from them.

Hypnos, for their part, was ECSTATIC about having someone other than Nari to talk to. especially when they couldn't talk for a while due to his "god duties". (hypnos still didn't understand why he insisted on doing sermons and aiding his followers if it was so stressful for him.)

the best part was when hypnos grabbed the foxes cloak to stop him from leaving.

it was the first time they felt something besides their own cloak. they had reached out without the expectation of grabbing anything, as they had never done it successfully before, but it had stopped narinder in the past.

but then hypnos felt it slip through their fingers. the coarse fabric of the tattered cloak burning their fingers slightly as it slipped away.

The fox hissed at the small tug at their robes, turning around to face the lamb, rage infusing their entire being, that some lesser being had dared to lay a finger on their person, and was met with the stunned expression of the lamb.

“I touched you.”

“How astute of you, meat. You should let me tear you apart for the honor.”

Hypnos, completely unperturbed by the threat, looked at them with shining eyes that seemed to reflect a light that didn’t exist in the void, and began to babble about their entire life story, about WHY their touch was so important.

The Teeth, naturally, were taken aback by this complete lack of fear, and the implicit trust that this creature seemed to put on them.

Needless to say, he was FASCINATED by the gall that this lamb showed to the king of the shadows.

Lamb made a promise to never tell Nari about this little meeting, and the lamb kept all further rendezvous clandestine to their partner. Hypnos could keep one secret, right? What's the harm?

After that, they would stay and chat whenever the night and the gods' ceremonies intersected.

The fox was a bad influence on the lamb, teaching them to hold onto grudges and to disregard the worth of lives deemed lesser, and tempted them with descriptions of the savory flavors of raw sentient flesh. 

One good trait that the lamb learned from the fox was that one should ALWAYS keep their promises. The fox was a demon, and so was bound to the word of their oaths. But the fox went further, and always honored the SPIRIT of the agreement, and despised those who tried to wiggle their way out of a promise, like ratau. 

Ratau only still lived because the lamb had told him that The One Who Waits favored the rat, so they got off with a lighter sentence of having their family torn apart. No additional harm was done to ratau, so therefore, no ire was to be gained from TOWW.

Totally not because he found the rat fascinating. He wanted to feast on his corpse, and was only sparing him to spare himself from the ire of a god. That was all. really.

[goodqueenaly]

I saw that House of the Dragon in their podcast named Alicent's mother as Alerie Florent. Any thoughts on that? The Florents do seem to have bad luck in wars.

I’m still not talking about HotD, but it’s funny you mention this because I meant to make a post about it (and then completely forgot). You can find the interview here and the clip here specifically mentioning the name.

Anyway, the reason I wanted to mention it is not to praise this show but rather to bemoan the fact that a non-canon (to the books) TV show seems more interested in the identity of a female character, no matter how relatively minor, than GRRM himself has with various female characters of ASOIAF. I’m not saying I necessarily expected F&B to identify Alicent Hightower’s mother (although it’s not like I wouldn’t have liked it to), and in the vast annals of awfulness representing F&B’s treatment of female characters, Alicent Hightower’s mother’s lack of presence or even name may seem relatively low on the scale of offensiveness. Yet what bothers me deeply is the startling disregard GRRM has shown more than once in failing to identify female characters, or indeed failing to treat some female characters as more than walking wombs. The reigning yet unnamed Princess of Dorne is an infamous example; “Lady Stark, she died” - that is, Lyarra Stark, the wife of Rickard - is another. (Need I remind anyone that he sarcastically and yet totally inaccurately compared her to Aragorn’s actually named mother?) Quellon Greyjoy gets a detailed biography, but his wives don’t even get first names; Hoster Tully’s wife Minisa and Jon Arryn’s wives Rowena and Jeyne are only identifiable by their dynasties and the manners of their deaths. Nor did F&B go any real way toward solving this problem: Alaric Stark gets plenty of backstory and screentime, but his supposedly beloved Mormont wife doesn’t even have a first name; Rogar Baratheon’s first wife is only mentioned as an anonymous corpse already in the ground; Rodrik Arryn’s nameless first wife dies early enough for creep Rodrik to prey on Daella; Unwin Peake’s nameless adolescent daughter only exists to be raped and die in childbirth. 

I don’t mention all this to say GRRM is a terrible writer, or hates female characters. Far from it! It’s precisely because I think GRRM is an extremely good writer, including with respect to female characters, that I find myself so disappointed when he shows such lack of regard in this area. In the 10+ years since GRRM began focusing in-depth on the Dance of the Dragons, there have been two novellas about this civil war, a world book describing in part this civil war, and an entire “related work” history of (the first roughly century and a half of) House Targaryen, with multiple chapters about this civil war expanding upon those novellas - yet it took the showrunner of a TV show adapting the F&B narrative of the Dance to care enough about Alicent’s mother to name her. I don’t know that this show is going so far as to give any personality or character to the dead figure of “Alerie Florent” (and again, I really don’t care about anything this show does), but even the showrunner mentioning that Alicent wants to remember her mother in prayers is more than we readers can say about, for example, Ned Stark’s relationship with his mother, or Catelyn’s with hers. GRRM’s lack of attention to or indeed interest in the identity of yet another female character, over the course of tens of thousands of words he’s written about the Dance era, stands in sharp and frankly unflattering contrast compared to even the passing mention of this figure allowed by the showrunner of a TV series which, by its nature, might have every incentive to be more streamlined about such details. 

(Once again, I’m not posting about HotD and I’m not inviting anyone to use this post to talk about HotD, because those conversations are getting blocked by me. This is me using a news story related to HotD to comment on GRRM’s writing.)

[max1461]

Let me start a new post, regarding some discourse, so that we can avoid bothering OP and furthermore so that we can properly abstract away from (whatever turn out to be) the irrelevant points of the initial seed of discussion.

A woman flashed her boobs to some strangers in New York. Someone on twitter said this was sexual assault. I and other commenters contended it was no big deal. However, I added:

I do think there's a relevant distinction between simply being nude/topless/whatever in public, which I think should be regarded as perfectly socially acceptable, and flashing someone, which is kind of an inherently somewhat sexual performative act. I don't think that flashing in a context like this should probably be regarded as sexual assault, that seems a bit much. In general I think that people are (for the most part) sexual creatures, and so any free society is going to feature some amount of public display of sexuality, whatever form that takes, and there's nothing really wrong with that. It doesn't seem like any big deal to me that this girl flashed these people. But there definitely exist contexts where I think it's reasonable to consider flashing alone to be sexual assault or sexual harassment, and I don't think that should be elided. And I don't think it should be determined on crude grounds of gender or sex either; it's important to have some thoughtful and conceptually robust sense of when sexual acts, e.g. flashing people, are playful and harmless, and when they are in fact potentially threatening or boundary-violating.

Here the discussion split. In one thread, @sivavakkiyar said:

I agree with the nuance of total determination, but the applicability only makes sense now. There’s very good reason to suppose a man who took off his shirt on camera would not be considered ‘flashing’, even if he was flexing his pecs or whatever: the assumed sexual component, regardless of the intent of the woman involved, has to do with the inherent sexualization of…uh…female…presenting…nipples. We’re on the same page of ‘assault’ being ridiculous in this context, but even if you were to ask this woman ‘when you took off your shirt, you knew it was sexually suggestive, yes?’ and she said ‘yeah’, it wouldn’t really change the fundamental question—-I mean that’s obvious as a part of her joke, but—-the guy with pecs might equally be ‘yeah, I’m hot.’ You know?

And I replied:

Well yeah that's part of my point. There is totally a context in which a guy flexing his pecs at you, in some sufficiently aggressive or unwanted way, could be sexual harassment. But that doesn't mean that all men flexing in public is bad, or even all men flexing at someone in public is bad. The standards one takes up for this, whatever they are, should be gender neutral—which would unambiguously mean that women showing their bare chest in public would get vastly more accepted, not less.

In another thread, @wildgifthorses said:

It seems like this is just an area where it makes sense to have sex-asymmetric norms. Trying to make a workable sex-symmetric norm about this just leads to absurdity no matter what you do.

And added the following in the tags:

Here I would like to make my reply to wildgifthorses.

I think you have implicitly invoked, here, precisely the gender-neutral distinction which is relevant: reasonable knowledge that you are violating someone's boundaries and disregard for those boundaries in spite of the knowledge. Most men can be said to have a reasonable expectation that the average woman will be bothered by him flashing her his junk, and consider it a boundary violation. Most young women can reasonably expect that a crowd of passers-by will not feel violated by her flashing them her boobs. While there are sex- or gender-asymmetric facts about society being invoked in this sort of moral calculation, the underlying principle is fundamentally sex- and gender-symmetric. And why should it not be? I can think of plenty of contexts in which a man might be made very uncomfortable by a woman aggressively showing him her boobs, however common or not that happens to be, and in those scenarios I think it is very reasonable to say the woman is in the wrong.

We get absolutely nowhere good by making needlessly gendered distinctions in our abstract principles, as (in different ways) the last 10 years and the previous 5000 before that should make evident. I think until certain follies heretofore characteristic of human society are well behind us, we should probably err very far in the direction of absolute sex- and gender-insensitivity in our most abstract ethical principles, even if it runs us into trouble sometimes.

[thecameronchronicles]

Diner Girl

TW: bully!Rafe. Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: Your starcrossed existence leads to high tensions and low inhibitions. 

WORD COUNT: 1500

REQUESTED

Hi!

I have an idea that you can totally disregard or even link something similar!

College Rafe who bullies reader and they are a waitress at a restaurant and he shows up with his friends and they have to wait his table. 

Idk if that is enough to go off of, or again, if u have something similar. 

You are so talented, thank you so so much lovely!

💙💙💙

*I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS ONE!*

Diner Girl 

The day was already too long with low tips and ill-tempered customers. If not for the break taken halfway through your shift, you may have broken through that forced smile with one more "what can I get for you". But with an hour left until you could retire out of this uniform and into the comfort of the bubble bath that allowed you to push through the day, you were counting down every single second. 

And then the bell drew your attention to the door. It was common for a peer to venture in at this particular hour for a late night cup of coffee or even to find a means to sober up from an early night's events. But when you saw him enter with his band of equally misogynistic and narcissistic friends, you didn't care to hide your annoyance. 

"And to think, I was even going to tip you real nice." Rafe teased, bending himself over the counter as his blonde friend smirked at you at his side. "Here's one...use this to get some decent clothes..." He explained while offering a small collection of folded bills.

"Rafe Cameron doesn't like my clothes?" You feigned hurt before rolling your eyes. "How will I sleep knowing I don't have the king Kook's attention? Oh please Rafe ..like me..." You bent further towards him. Enough to taste the change in his breathing. 

"Kiss me..." You had no interest to actually act on this and yet you basked in his reaction to you. The way you could alter him from vile to vulnerable in a closed proximity was enduring. All while you realized it could bring some form of entertainment in the final hour of your shift. 

"Or you could just order so I can go home." You pulled back behind the counter. 

"I'll have you bent over overeasy...at least that's how the football team describes you...over...easy..."

This brigade of insults would continue until it seemed as if nobody else existed in the space around you. As "oohs" and "ahhs" came from patrons of the establishment and your co-workers, the heat only built between you. Comments of his silver spoon upbringing and your lesser than desirable poverty had been at the crux of most verbal blows. 

"You're just jealous because the best you're ever gonna have is the fifteen seconds with some drunk sorority girl who only thinks you're good because she is imagining someone else. Maybe you," You looked at his friend, offering a wink as he blushed. 

"And ten of those seconds would be you trying to figure out how to get her undressed."

"Believe me, I know my way around undressing a girl." His eyes fell down your physique as if doing so with his eyes. 

"Lucky for me, I never have to find out "

"I wouldn't be caught dead touching you."

"But you're dying to know how I feel, aren't you? Bet you're straining in your seam for me..." You chuckled. "Want to know how I'd taste...sound ..feel..." You were pressed at his chest, palm close enough to feel his raging pulse beneath your hand as you'd rounded the counter. 

"Maybe one of the other girls are brain dead enough to entertain the idea of you. But I'd rather be fucked by a hot poker than touched by you. Even by accident. God knows the germs you have..."

"At least I can afford to clean up. You're always gonna be a dirty little pogue." He spat as your brow arched. 

"Just one you're never gonna get." You teased his lips before pulling yourself to the exit of the restaurant. Apron left on the hook as you'd clocked out, you shuffled for your keys, wearing a smile of pride wide across your face. But you weren't allowed even two steps away from the rest exit before you were taken against the back wall of the diner. 

"Have your fun?" Rafe asked, knee set between your legs as you gasped. 

"Took it a bit far tonight, don't you think?"

"Only took it like you gave."

"I could have you bent over that counter and fuck that little attitude out of you..."

"I don't know, Rafe...Just s dirty little pogue…" You teased his belt. 

"I have quite a lot of attitude...".

"Good thing I can fuck you more ways than one then..." He kissed you harshly, the familiar fire quelling your need to rival him. But just as you'd found comfort in his lips, he had retreated and descended to your chest. The basic tee set over your torso was pulled to free your breasts. The bitter bite of the night air was challenged by the fervent need of his tongue and lips at your exposed skin. 

"What would your friends think?" You asked him as he looked up to you just long enough to notice the smirk across your face. 

"I don't give a shit..."

"Then take me back and fuck me on the counter..." 

"I don't care if they know about us. I don't want them to hear you. To see those little faces you make for me. Because if they have even a fraction of the same effect, they're gonna be just as driven to make them happen...and nobody gets to do that to you but me-"

"And the football team?" He scoffed. 

"I'm more than enough for you. You prove it everytime you wince for me when I'm inside of you. The pain of being bigger than what you're used to...and you love it...you love the pain..."

"I love how you feel..." You explained with your hand fisting at his shirt. "But I hate how you treat me."

He shook his head. 

"Then why are you so fucking wet?" You were lifted above the wall, the quick swipe made of his hand having now been used to guide your panties to the side as his other hand undressed himself. 

"Gotta be quick this time...but you're still gonna come shaking for me..." Before you could object, you were forced over his cock. That wince he spoke of had been released as a complete whimper of former confidence as you arched your back to his beginning motions. 

"Rafe!"

"Wanna come for me already?" You nodded. 

"A bit desperate tonight?"

"Always..." You confessed, submitting to him as nobody felt like him. Absolutely nobody. His greedy touch, still somehow compassionate, was addictive. Not to mention the dirty words he spoke that navigated perfectly to your clit as not even a brush of his fingers were needed to make you tremble. 

"Then come for me. But you're gonna make me come twice as hard, sweetheart..." He almost growled into your neck as your body built to a quick high that he delayed gratification to. 

"Rafe!"

"I think you should apologize. What you said was hurtful you know...gotta be held accountable for what you say..."

"You can't be serious..."

"I'm as serious as my cock is hard...so apologize or you don't get to come." 

"You won't just stop midway."

"Who said?" He wrapped his hand around the back of your neck. "I said YOU don't get to come. But I have your body at my disposal and there's at least half a dozen different ways I could use it to come...not to mention from behind...so be my good girl and apologize." You swallowed hard to the fire behind his eyes, well aware his threats were not empty. 

"I'm sorry...you're such a baby..." His jaw cocked as he forced you to the soles of your feet. Using this grip on the back of your neck, you were turned away from him. Skirt lifted and panties ripped clean off your hip. As you turned to face him, a smart remark on the tip of your tongue, you would feel him set the panties in this attempt. 

"Taste what I do to you and shut the fuck up while I prove it to myself." He grilled your hair harshly as he thrusted into you. Interlaced fingers stabilized him against the wall as you were both ignorant to his curious friends calling out in search for him. If either of you noticed, you didn't dnt dare even a glance,  as you were too wrapped in each other. The same way it has always been. Fingers leaving evidence in each other's arms as you came to that edge. 

"Fuck, this pussy missed me, didn't she? Already crying and now begging...You could learn a thing or two..."

"I'm not begging for you, Rafe..."

"That's okay...I just need you to scream for me." He battered you harder onto the wall as you unintentionally acquiesced. Whimpers and whines leaving you trembling as you bit your bottom lip against him. 

"I'm coming-" He took his hand around your neck from behind, guiding you to face him. 

"And you're gonna be really good for me and make me come first...then we'll see if I forgive you enough for being such a brat to let you come." You groaned before feeling him tease your clit with his thumb. 

"Pathetic." He spat as you groaned, refusing to beg, but the whimper accommodating the need anyhow. 

"So fucking tight...oh my God..." He grunted. 

"For me." He validated as you nodded. 

"For now." He clenched his jaw while kissing you to keep you quiet. His hands were at a war between your hair, hips, and breasts, until finalizing into the wall as he found his release. 

"Rafe!" You mewled as he redressed. 

"Maybe next time you should apologize..." 

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love @phildunphyisadilf @belcalis9503

MASTERLIST

RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

2ND RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Princess Azula

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

This is one of those characters I should’ve done a long time ago, but just never got around to because I felt it was just way too obvious. I mean, come on, Avatar: The Last Airbender is considered one of the greatest works of western animation. Everyone and their mother has talked about this show at some point, so what could I even add?

Well, as it turns out, the way people talk about Azula is exactly what inspired me to write this! I have never seen a character so completely and critically misunderstood! Hell, this is a character that people like to disregard the core themes of the story to talk about! Discussion of her online made me so genuinely angry that I decided fuck it, it’s Azulain’ time! So here we go, my 200% anger-fueled analysis and review of the mentally-unstable Fire Nation princess who terrorized the Gaang!

Motivation/Goals: Azula has basically made it her life’s mission to be the ultimate tool of the Fire Nation, and specifically her father Fire Lord Ozai. To that end, she does basically whatveer he tells her to do? Kill the Avatar, conquer Ba Sing Se, take out her brother and uncle… So long as what she does has a net benefit for the imperialistic goals of her country, she’s down for it, and doubly so if she thinks it will get her even a little crumb of daddy’s attention.

Performance: Superstar voice actress Grey DeLisle of Literally Every Fucking Cartoon Ever Made fame lends her voice to the crown princess of the Fire Nation, and her smug, condescending delivery really sells Azula as a manipulative schemer who is constantly playing 4D chess to outmaneuver her opponents. I think I might even go so far as to call this one of DeLisle’s finest performances ever, for reasons pertaining to her delivery of lines in certain parts of the story that will be described below.

Final Fate: Azula’s fate is a perfect example of the show’s excellent writing because it robs us of catharsis in an extremely narratively satisfying way.

Throughout the finale, we watch as Azula’s mental health rapidly declines as literally everything in her life spirals out of her control for the first time. This is a girl who has defined herself as always being two steps ahead, always having everything firmly in her grasp, and yet her brother has run off with the heroes, her two best friends “betrayed” her, her father gives her the throne but only because he is crowning himself the Ultra Super Cool King Deluxe, and she is constantly grappling with feeling as if her mother viewed her as a monster while also subconsciously knowing that Ursa did truly love her. Keep in mind, all of this is happening to a teenage girl, so is it any wonder she completely and totally snaps?

Her final Agni Kai with Zuko during the height of Sozin’s Comet is epic, but it’s the conclusion where she is defeated by Katara and left as a sobbing, flailing mess that really knocks Azula’s character arc out of the park and cements her as the ultimate antithesis of Zuko. He had the guidance of a good, kind father figure, while she was stuck with Fire Hitler; he had a group of friends to love and support him, while she only had companions who put up with her out of fear and turned on her when they finally had enough; he was able to come to terms with his past traumas and grow to be better because of his numerous support systems, while all she had were toxic influences that led to her essentially collapsing under the weight of her internal conflict. She is what Zuko could have been if no one lent him a helping hand… and it is soul-crushingly tragic. The last we see her, she is a broken mess of a person, someone who has literally lost everything in their life, had the sole purpose of their existence stripped from them, and has just been reminded that she lost because she is a lonely, miserable, pathetic individual without any friends.

After her being on top for almost the entire show, this should feel like a triumph! But it’s not. It’s sad. It’s tragic. There’s no joy to be found. And boy oh boy, is it fucking powerful.

I’m just going to ignore what happens to her in the comics. It’s better that way.

Evilness: So here’s where things get really interesting, because while Azula does some truly evil things throughout the show, there is a tendency to exaggerate just how awful she is because most of her evil actions are just things she says she wants to do/has done. Combined with her smug, arrogant demeanor and it’s easy to believe she would do these things, but we don’t actually witness them. To wit, while she taunts Sokka about torturing Suki to the breaking point, when he finally reunites with her she sure doesn’t seem as cripplingly broken as Azula implied. I think it’s important to note that, as Azula is a massive liar, if we don’t actually see her do something (even something she’s threatening to do), it’s not really a mark against her. She’s a cunning manipulator, after all, conquering an entire city without lifting a finger.

On that note, though, she does have plenty of wicked moments under her belt. She conquered Ba Sing Se for the Fire Nation, she constantly tried to kill Aang and her brother while they were on the run in the Earth Kingdom, she had her friends locked up for defying her… Like she’s one messed up daddy’s girl. Even taking into account the inherent tragedy of her character and the fact she’s a teenage girl, she still kind of steps up to crossing the moral event horizon. She’s very much the product of grooming in an environment meant to espouse the joys of fascism and imperialism, and since she never had a strong guide like Iroh her moral compass is busted.

With all that being said, I think she’s a solid 5/10. She does some really nasty things, but at the same time a lot of what colors the perception of her is stuff she only implies. Also I’m not considering any of her pre-breakdown fights with Zuko as truly evil; this is just how siblings are. You bet your ass sibling squabbles would look just like that if they could shoot fireballs from their hands.

Best Episode: For all her badass moments, awesome schemes, incredible fights, and powerful moments… “The Beach” might be her best episode. This might sound crazy, but I stand by it; I think showing us an awkward, human side of her really helps to sell that Azula isn’t actually some unstoppable force. She’s just a teenager who has no social skills and can’t exist outside of the confines of being a royal or a warrior without looking like an absolute weirdo.

Best Quote: After outmaneuvering season 2’s arc villain Long Feng, who concedes to he rand says she’s beaten him at his own game, she flippantly replies, “Don't flatter yourself. You were never even a player.” I don’t think even Jet got so brutally murdered. It’s the sickest burn in the series aside from Zuko’s scar.

Final Thoughts & Score: The whole reason I even wrote this Psycho Analysis is because the constant and critical misunderstandings of Azula I see online constantly piss me the fuck off.

There is a subset of Avatar fans who completely and steadfastly believe that Azula is in fact an irredeemable monster, a complete sociopath with no redeeming qualities who needs to suffer and die. They reject any attempts at assessing the character in a more nuanced light, because “why can’t villains just be evil?” They treat her as if she’s some sort of pure evil being instead of an emotionally stunted child.“She’s crazy and she needs to go down” might as well be the mantra of these media illeterate Avatar fans, parroting opinions that mirror the words of Iroh after Azula almost killed him but ignoring that crucial context as well as Iroh’s entire character. Like, do these people actually pay attention to the core themes of the entire show? You know, mercy, redemption, humanity, the importance of all life? Did they miss the part of the finale where these core themes were cemented by Aang removing Ozai’s firebending with energybending, or were they too busy bitching about it being a deus ex machina to realize it’s thematically appropriate?

Like they want Azula to just be this evil, unredeemable cartoonish villain in a show that explicitly says no one is like this. There’s even a point in the final episodes where it’s pointed out that genocidal colonizer tyrant Ozai was once a sweet, cute little baby, and didn’t just spring forth as a fully formed Red-Hot Hitler. Azula is a person groomed by an unrepentantly evil father to be the Fire Nation ubermensch, the ideal tool for the conquest of the rest of the world. She was never allowed to have a normal childhood, as evident by her awkward behavior and social ineptitude when she’s actually allowed to cut loose and be around people her own age in a relaxed setting. Everything that she is—a liar, a manipulator, an attempted murderer, an egomaniac—are all the result of Ozai’s upbringing, being entrenched in the propaganda of her nation, and a lack of authority figures with a moral compass in her life. She didn’t have an Iroh to guide her, all she had was Ozai. In this sense, Azula is as much a victim as she is a victimizer.

But she is a victimizer. She is still consciously making bad decisions, she is still doing evil and sometimes appearing to enjoy it. There’s no reason to believe she couldn’t turn things around if given a helping hand like her brother was (though there would need to be a lot more effort due to her being in Ozai’s company unimpeded for way longer than Zuko), but she’s not some innocent little bean who’s being persecuted by others. Azula is still a villain, and viewing her as just a mere victim is a disservice to the character just as much as painting her as an inhuman monster. She is a very nuanced character, but she never gets the sort of POV work Zuko does to fully flesh out what’s on her mind and let us see the world through her eyes so the work done for her is more subtle, at least until her final breakdown. At that point, the show is literally beating you over the head with the fact she is an incredibly tragic character whose entire existence is pitiful and broken, and who lives as a mirror to Zuko, showing him a dark path he could have walked down if he didn’t receive love, support, and compassion.

Ultimately, Iroh wasn’t wrong when he said “She’s crazy and she needs to go down,” but I take it with emphasis on and. Azula is, in fact, crazy. She is incredibly mentally disturbed, her mind warped and molded by her father to the point she breaks if she starts to lose control even a tiny bit. And, as an antagonistic force working against the heroes, she does indeed need to go down. I’m sure he wasn’t too happy with his near-death experience, but you will not convince me that the sweet old Iroh, who himself changed and redeemed himself after being a fucking war criminal who nearly conquered Ba Sing Se, could not see the nuance in the Azula situation and genuinely saw his niece as some beast to be slaughtered.

But that’s enough with the ranting, let’s get to the actual final thoughts and score for Azula. She is one of the most engaging and magnificent villains in animation, a real firebrand (heh) whose numerous schemes are gripping to watch, building her up as someone you want to see finally get defeated only for the writers to pull the rug out from under you and remind you just what Azula really is. Avatar had no shortage of brilliant and subversive writing, but I think Azula’s ultimate arc is an unsung masterpiece among it. The character is so mired in discourse these days it’s easy to forget it, but she genuinely is a grand character.

For her score, I’m gonna say she gets a 9/10. She’s easily the best villain on the show, far outshining her rather generic father, the deliciously hammy but ultimately rather shallow Zhao, and the scheming but relatively minor Long Feng (to say nothing of the numerous minor villains that range in quality from wastes of time like Combustion Man to genuinely amazing and horrifying like Hama). I think the only thing holding her back from a perfect score is that sometimes it feels like things fall into place a little too perfectly for her, and she doesn’t face setbacks too much until the very end, but considering the immensely powerful culmination it’s nothing that ruins her. Azula is a character just as rich and deep as anyone else from the show, and I really wish more people looked at her with nuance.

I also wish the fucking comics didn’t exist. Maybe I’m asking for too much.

[toboldlymuppet]

cranky fandom wank hours

It sucks that this is my post after a while of not updating art here but I have to say something about it. The level of vitriol and hate I’ve gotten as an Izzy fan (why yes, that fictional little pathetic man over on that little queer pirate show that speaks about kindness & acceptance, of growing past your trauma & toxic mentality, That One) has been 10x as worse than in any fandom I’ve been in, and I’ve been in fandom for more than a decade now. I’ve modded a fairly large game discord (at 100k+) and even then, I haven’t had death threats lobbied at me so aggressively until I got into this show. I was never shy about my anti-colonialism stance, my Filipino heritage, my sexuality or gender identity, especially having recently realized that I fall into the nb spectrum. Or all my stances on shitty IRL things that are both morally and legally reprehensible. And yet, the number of “racist/pedophile/rapist/colonizer/abuse apologist” I’ve gotten in my dms has pushed me enough to close my twitter dms & asks here, something I haven’t done at all (most especially on twitter where I’ve kept it open since 2014). People I know who enjoyed staying in our own lane & enjoying one rat bastard has gotten hate and death threats, we’ve had someone doxxed, many of us fear doxxing, I’ve been thrown into a list of ‘known rapists/abusers” for daring to do fanwork of my current favorite pirate. A lot of us fans are POC and trans and nonbinary, or somewhere around that spectrum, and yet we’ve been constantly drowned out by people who think that fandom = activism? Who act like surely it’s just a conglomerate of white cis fans who flock around Izzy. Nice, way to fuckin misgender and act like a white savior to us, oh wait, we POC/non-cis Izzy fans don’t exist, do we? Even then, so many fanwork of other POC characters on the show are by Izzy fans. Roach & Frenchie fanworks, iirc, where they’re not relegated into the side or disregarded, where they’re main characters in their own right, are primarily by us fans. We show the crew a good amount of love, and even then, if you don’t find the fanwork of a character or ship you’re looking for? Don’t attack the fans enjoying our own thing and do your own, commission an artist/writer, cultivate your own circle instead of attacking others. Izzy Hands is by far the least morally decrepit favorite I’ve gotten in many years, he’s nothing even remotely close to being ‘unredeemable’,  to apply morality to him & his fans, despite being a pirate in a fucking pirate show, totally known for their Goodwill To All Men and Upstanding Code of Ethics, is ridiculous and full of bad faith criticism. Also, can people stop tagging hate in his tag, what the fuck happened to fandom ethics or consideration, stop airing out your dirty laundry for the fans to see where we’re just here to have a good time and Stay In Our Lane. Anyway, I have a shitload of more to add but it’s 6am and I’ve frankly never been this exhausted by fandom before. This is why I’ve never done G/B stuff lol, despite having done so many wips on my initial watch. Is it cringe to have an entire vent about a sad small fictional man? Yes. But is it even cringer to focus all your time and energy into hating that guy & his fans? Also yes.

Good morning.

[tomwambsgans]

hello! I agree with a lot of your takes re: Tom/Greg and am quite sincerely baffled by how many of the big 'intellectual' Succession blogs are comfortable dismissing them as a joke unworthy of insight or analysis. one of the weirdest trends I've seen is 'Tom/Greg would be nothing without Tom/Shiv' because it's like... of course a storyline about what's essentially an affair relies on the marriage it's destroying; of course the relationships on the show all feed into each other vitally. I wouldn't even say I 'ship' T/G or have a deep personal investment in it, but I think understanding it as textually real and substantial is essential to any reading of the show as a whole. I love Tom's relationship arc with Shiv; I find it chilling and heartbreaking and fantastic (and I have equal sympathy for her), but saying that every scene he has with Greg is just about Shiv is such a ludicrously ignorant dismissal coming from people who purport to be invested in, like, serious dramaturgical analysis. Tom being closeted is important; Tom sincerely (and sometimes truly selflessly) loving Greg on a show about egomaniacs forever betraying each other is important. it's almost hilariously ironic to see 'serious' bloggers waving it all away.

this isn't to say that the vast majority of those interested in T/G don't also get them completely wrong – once people are actually confronted with a 'canon gay pairing' that doesn't conform to shipping conventions they don't know what to do with it. it's just tiring that the two extremes seem to be 'total, smug disregard' and 'pointlessly unfaithful misrepresentation'.

but anyway: I like your blog! keep doing what you're doing.

hi wow okay i love this message first of all

and tbqh that Intellectual Dismissal of tomgreg? homophobia. it's homophobia. whether internalized or otherwise that's genuinely what it is lol. like at absolute best it's ppl who've been convinced that it's dumb or immature to be passionate and sincere about two men loving each other and that that's never gonna be the "correct" reaction about a piece of media or something.

and yeah no "tomgreg only exists bc of tomshiv" is a take that makes me want to rip my hair out any time i catch so much of a whiff of it. as something to dismiss tg first of all it's dumb as fuck bc like.. okay? and YOU only exist bc your dad managed to say some offhanded thing to your mom one day that made her decide they were gonna fuck or vice versa. everything in the world "only" happened because something else happened first. and then as an actual analysis of tg it's still wrong and falls apart so easily with so many of the big tg moments in mind. like nero and sporus? I'm gonna push my wife down the stairs and marry you? I'm literally going to end my marriage and be with you instead? and honestly you don't even have to go far that into the show, I'd argue that the ortolan dinner and the connection that tom literally spells out there is very clearly independent of shiv. there's parallels but tom isn't consciously thinking "shiv is out cheating on me so i'll also (emotionally) cheat on her".. obviously lol. Tom and greg simply connect as two human beings more than basically any other pair in the show do and the actual ""reliance"" that their relationship has on shiv boils down, I would say, to simply how tom's unhappiness with shiv pushes him to pursue what he wants. otherwise yeah tomshiv influences certain aspects of the tg dynamic but I guess a lot of ppl don't realize that that's not the same thing as being "reliant" lmao

[intuitive-revelations]

One major implication I don't think that episode really took the time to settle on is the implication that the Toymaker has already massively messed up the universe?

Toymaker: I came to this universe with such delight. And I played them all, Doctor. I toyed with supernovas, turned galaxies into spin tops. I gambled with God and made him a jack-in-the-box. Toymaker: I made a jigsaw out of your history... did you like it? Toymaker: The Master was dying and begged for his life with one final game, and when he lost, I sealed him for all eternity within my gold tooth.

And later:

Toymaker: Do you think a grand total of two can cause me to shiver when I've played against the Guardians of Time and Space and shrank them into voodoo dolls?

So to summarise:

It's implied the universe is now even more destroyed by the Toymaker's reality warping. Granted we don't know what the scale of this is, unlike the Flux, but it's possibly proportionally quite big considering how little of the universe is left already? That being said, he could have done this in history before the Flux, since it was a linear event, in which case this is far less of an issue.

That being said, it's likely this was reversed by the Toymaker being banished - so we're probably not going to see galaxy-sized spin-tops in the future. How many people died, and if they come back however, is less clear.

The Master (presumably dying after POTD), and the Black and White Guardians (at least - possibly the other 3 guardians too, excluding the Toymaker - though they're the main ones, and it's "order and chaos" specifically which are mentioned in the episode) have all gamed with the Toymaker and lost. The tooth!Master is at least left in our universe, and may possibly be secure with UNIT. The fate of the Guardians is a bit less clear, as is the implications for the balance of the universe.

But perhaps the biggest thing, and the one the episode actually took the time to give us a confused 14 reaction shot to:

The Toymaker has a made a 'jigsaw' out of the Doctor's history (or maybe history in general, although he does say 'your').

So what does that mean?

The hint is that the Doctor has already experienced whatever it is... so what was it that he caused with his interference?

To me there's perhaps three possible options:

The Star Beast - this would be an oddly minor thing to refer to, but arguably makes the most sense in the 'arc' of the specials. Perhaps he's referring to the Doctor encountering Beep the Meep for the first time again? ie. taken one jigsaw piece and exchanged its position in his timeline. For now this might be my headcanon regarding it, but would be really odd to be the intention, especially since we're already disregarding most of the other appearances of the Toymaker in the EU? It's also of course not the first time we've had an adaptation of an EU story in the main show without referencing the original (the no. 1 example being Human Nature - there are others like The Lodger and Dalek, but they're different enough that they can co-exist in a continuity with their source material).

The Timeless Child / Fugitive Doctor - RTD has said he's not going retcon the arc, but this arguably makes the most sense as a 'puzzle' being made out of the Doctor's history? Especially with regards to the Fugitive Doctor anyway, given there's the additional complications of her a) being the "Doctor", b) having a Police Box TARDIS, yet c) seemingly being from around the time of the Anchoring of the Thread.

The Toymaker's being time-wimey, it hasn't happened yet / it's nothing in particular - While it would be a bit confusing to contradict the one detail we got in the episode, this is always a possibility too. After all, there was a lot of sequel hooking all across these specials, so it might be something RTD will come back to, especially if we are going to be seeing more of the past Doctors in future series? Hopefully not by the biregeneration theory he gave about them all being split retroactively, because that is literally insane and doesn't even make the little sense the 14-15 one does....wtf.

So overall, what do I think?

Well I think I can be somewhat forgiving with the damage to the rest of the universe, just because it's implied that it might be reset, and the scale/lethality was never established. Plus like I said, there is some justification to the proportional issue not being too bad when combined with the Flux.

The Black and White Guardians implication is... interesting. We are gradually building up more and more of those 'Great Old One' / pre-universe elements in (New)NewWho, so there's a good chance this could come back in the future. It probably won't have immediate effects on the universe, as the Guardians seemed to be more concerned with specific dangers like the Key to Time. It could perhaps lead to more Eternals popping up across the universe, given the Guardians were the only force they really answered to. RTD I think is also quite aware of some of the Eternal-type lore too, since he played around with it quite a bit in those Series 1 articles talking about the Time War.

The Master's obviously coming back and as silly as this was, it does at least justify him being alive after POTD. It actually opens up the possibility of seeing Dhawan himself again too, which would be great! The nail-polished hand picking it up felt like a bit of a trolling moment, after how underwelming all the theories of who did it were when the End of Time came along. Someone pointed out that Kate actually has the same nail-polish, which would be interesting. Perhaps when we next see the Master, they'll be in UNIT captivity, Delgado style?

Finally, the jigsaw line, which is possibly the most interesting. Originally I was going to lean towards this being nothing / a vague setup for future past-Doctor stuff, since that seems to be the default, but now that I've laid it out... I think this could be a setup for more Fugitive!Doctor appearances. It makes the most sense from a story perspective anyway, given what the Toymaker said and some of the questions surrounding her not being answered, whether or not it's the direction the franchise would actually want to go.

After all, as controversial as the Timeless Child lore was, as far as I'm aware Jo Martin was pretty well recieved, and I'm sure RTD would love to look for opportunities to do more with her somehow. Whether he'd want something so continuity dependent from a showrunning perspective, however, is a bit more questionable.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

one thing i hate about zooties is how they turn azula's breakdown in the finale into proof for their own ship.

azula's breakdown is meant to be not only a tragic conclusion to her character arc, but also a tragic conclusion to zuko's relationship with his younger sister (in the show). zuko looks at his chained, sobbing sister with pity and sadness in his eyes, and katara empathizes with him, so she comforts him AS A FRIEND.

NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOUR SHIP.

the tone of that scene is not and never will be fucking romantic. it's sad. it's tragic. it's depressing. katara and zuko aren't even the main focus of that scene, azula is.

i just find it kind of disgusting how they turn a mentally ill teenage girl's breakdown into evidence for their non-existent shitty ship. very interesting behavior from the self-proclaimed "feminists" of the atla fandom.

"We completely disregard all the female characters and only care about Katara, but only if she's with Zuko, but we are TOTALLY feminists, we promise!" is the whole deal of every Zutarian that claims Zutara is the feminist ship/female gaze.

[komohine]

ok so I totally just scrolled through your entire blog and oh my god?? You actually might be a gift from heaven this has actually made my entire year

I genuinely thought I was the only james lover like ever - most of them just kinda disappeared from the face of the planet after 2020 😞 And JAITH!! Oh my goodness I am a jaith lover (jaith 🔛🔝) and your blog is genuinely just so good for jaith content I am actually set for the next 5 years minimum (I have zero artistic talent or skills so am unable to draw the jaith myself so people like you who are also jaith fans are actually the best thing in existence)

I literally check his ao3 tag DAILY 😭 There are so many cute fics for them (+sm cute fanart) but they’re all so old and I’ve read basically all of them, so seeing new content is a bit of a shock but a very welcome shock cuz woah wdym the jaith/james fandom is actually alive??

(Also I love the mandatory not klance tag on the posts, people mistaking james for lance is always hilarious so the tag makes me giggle lol)

sorry to ask anonymously btw, if I didn’t it’d expose my other blog 😭 (I have one that is non voltron related lmao)

LOLL IM SO GLAD IM COLLECTING ALK THE STILL ALIVE JAMES AND JAITH FANS there needs to be more of us (who dont also ship sheith lol) 😭

James is way over hated in the fandom (i didnt find this out till like yesterday guys why am i chronically like a decade late to fandom this happened with hetalia too note that i no longer am in the hetalia fandom i fucking hate hetalia) so ive taken it upon myself to contextualize his actions to make him more understandable and more of an actual character lol

Also small rant… ppl wishing he got killed off bcs of a few comments he made when he was like 14 years old at most? Bffr 😭 wishing for the death of a character for things they said as an angsty 14 year old vs claiming a literal geneva convention violator’s “redemption arc” was “ruined” is kind of insane lmfao (sorry lotor likers i dont fw him 😞) like come on guys. Also its very clear how much he’s changed like of all the characters in the show i would argue his redemption arc was the most effective. He was shown to be golden boy, super respectful of chain of command and a stickler for rules. So for him to go out of his way to disobey direct orders, break the rules, and not only put his life on the line but the lives of 3 others and possibly more to sneak Hunk to see his family, is actually like insane. Even if you disregard my jaith headcanons, the fact he would do that for hunk (and by extension, keith) is more than enough of a redemption arc imo.

Tldr james is my oc now ppl need to stop bullying him

[so-i-grudgingly-joined-this-site]

So, while we're discussing the subject of what Dream of the Endless does or doesn't cover genre-wise (having determined that he would NOT discard the genre of romance from his repertoire), who do we think covers adaptations and fanfiction?

Because in the Death comics, which are as far as I know full canon, Death insists that Dream HATES adaptations or changes because they "ruin" the story's "true form". She specifically cites him hating Disney's The Little Mermaid, for changing the Hans Christian Andersen story.

(I've seen some "fans" use this as an excuse to hate on the Netflix show, since Dream hates any change to a story and even just adapting it to television would be a technical change...)

So, if he disowns adapted or altered storytelling...my guess is on Destruction. Because you're "destroying" an existing story and using the pieces to create a new one... and Destruction, IIRC, also embodies creation. Plus we know he likes making stuff for fun, regardless of the outcome, which feels very much in the spirit of fan-works.

But then again, it's also been stated by Neil that the ONLY Endless to care about stories at all is Dream... so does he just actively despise a subsection of his realm and the people who dwell in it? (I guess that might be part of why he hates his job so fucking much...) Are adaptational authors under the "no gods no kings" zone? How much strict adherence to canon does he demand--would filming a Shakespeare play with mostly the original script but a different setting be too spicy for him? Would filming what was intended to be a live play already be too much "change" to the "proper" form of the story?

I really think Neil's statement totally disregards Destruction's well established creative/artistic hobbies (or heck, even the way Desire tends to "live for the drama" could fall under the enjoyment of stories, since they enjoy seeing how people act out), but hey, I'm not the author...

Thoughts?

@duckland @orionsangel86 @academicblorbo @roguelov @notallsandmen

[princessbatears]

Hi- I don't know if you are still writing but I just wanted to say your fics are AMAZING. I constantly go back and re-read them whenever I need a good comfort fic. I also kinda had a random question about the Pero Tovar AU... how does he come to find out that the reader is a werewolf and not a magical dog?? If you're not writing or answering questions about your fics anymore I totally understand and please disregard this question. Much love from a reader!!!!

Anon, this note/ask absolutely made my day, you have no idea! I am deeply touched that you reread my stories and they bring you comfort. That's really my goal with my fan fics, to be a soft, sweet place to land.

While I do not write fan fic much anymore, I was delighted by your question of how he comes to find out Reader is a werewolf and had to write a little ficlette about that moment. I hope it is a satisfactory answer!

Much love to you, dear Reader, and thank you for your kind words and lovely ask!!! 🥰

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Werewolf Female Reader Summary: The new moon is upon you and Pero, which means you either have to leave him for a few days to hide your humanness or risk trusting him with the truth POV: Werewolf Reader Warnings: Mention of dead animals, non-sexual nudity, anxiety, brief fear of injury Words: 750 A/N: Takes place between Cooking and Proposal

Picking your canine teeth with a sharp bit of bone from your dinner, you look up at the night sky moodily. There’s only a sliver of the waning moon shining amongst the stars and you and Pero are nowhere near the bottom of the mountain.

A terrible blizzard has cost days of travel, forcing you two to hunker down in a cave. Even after the snow stopped, it’s been too cold for a human to be out in. The only choice is to wait for the temperature to rise a little more.

With less than two nights until the new moon, you’re faced with either disappearing for a few days or showing him you’re human.

The idea of leaving him without explanation, especially in these conditions, doesn’t sit right with you. Underneath that gruff, smelly exterior is a kindhearted man who you’ve come to care about and who cares about you, even if he does only see you as a magical dog and try to give you terrible names.

But to tell him is to potentially risk your life and that of the pack’s. He might try to kill you or share of your existence with others. It’s why there’s a rule never to tell humans.

“Come inside, pup, it’s too cold for even you,” Pero calls sternly from near the mouth of the cave, hands stuffed under his armpits.

Letting the bone fall from your mouth, you get to your feet and trot inside. After giving yourself a good shake just near enough to him to hit him with bits of snow, you head farther inside where a crackling fire welcomes you.

“Do you have to do that every time?” he gripes, brushing his hands exaggeratedly on his coat.

Smirking, you flop on the stone floor with your wet belly near the flames.

Despite his annoyed expression, he settles next to you to scratch behind your ears. After a few weeks together, he’s learned exactly where you like to be pet.

“I’m glad you’re back for the night,” he says with a quiet smile.

Warmth curls through you at his words. You’re glad you are, too. Being with him makes you happy.

As you look at his fire-lit face, lined with both hardship and joy, your heart knows what you need to do: show him what you are. If things go badly, you can easily transform back into a wolf and disappear. He’d never be able to track you in these conditions.

Heart pounding with both fear and determination, you close your eyes and let your human self out. Now you’re laying on your side, naked and chilly, while Pero’s fingers brush your neck.

He freezes, hand stilling, as he stares at you with saucer-sized eyes. His breathing grows erratic and his own heart beats loudly in your ears.

You stay still, but use your voice for the first time with him, “Hello.”

“What the fuck?” he wheezes, drawing back.

“It’s all right! Werewolves don’t hurt humans unless there’s no other choice.”

Pero swallows dryly. “Werewolves?”

Although you know it’s perfectly reasonable for him to be shocked, you’re starting to regret this. He’s looking at you like you’re a monster.

Another unbearable beat goes by with you remaining on the ground and him staring.

“I can turn back,” you say, voice wobbling with the threat of tears. Why did you think you should do this? You’ve risked everything so impulsively! “I’ll leave, you don’t have to ever see me again. Just… please don’t tell anyone!”

He reaches towards the nest of blankets where his large knife lays and you immediately transform back into a Wolf, ready to defend yourself.

But instead of grabbing the knife, he picks up one of the blankets. Although he’s still rather shaken, he says softly, “I promise, I’m not going to hurt you, either. You can be human, but you need something to wear. It’s too cold without fur.”

Pero lays the blanket over your fuzzy back, leaving it up to you what you want to do.

Now, his eyes are curious and hopeful, and there’s no lie in the thrum of his heart. So, you allow yourself to shed your fur once more under the comfort of the blanket.

He chuckles. “No wonder you didn’t like the names ‘Snowball’ or ‘White Fell’. What do you want me to call you?”

A sense of safety returns and you sit up, holding the edges of the fabric around you. With a shy smile, you tell him your real name.