#its because of the past anon bullshit

[nerdqueenmari]

The books are more vague about how they're raised. But at least Alicent tried. Viserys is the true parent to blame.

I'm aware. The book is vague about a lot of things. That commentary was about the show please let's not act like that wasn't heavily implied.

In any case: They're both to blame. Alicent doesn't get off the hook just because Viserys was also a shitty parent. She literally physically abuses and emotionally abuses Aegon onscreen.

[scummy-writes]

I really dislike that I keep getting these anons that are dressed as legit concern over a topic, when its really just them trying to needle in some insults.

The last anon was dressing up concern for a lack of support for fanfiction, which is not a nuanced topic, but throws in insults towards my choice of trying to muse about ideas I dont have the steam to write due to a lot of IRL issues and needles in 'where is the support for actual fanfics?'

If you were supporting writers, you wouldn't needle in bullshit like that. Using the word 'actually' further shows that you place a huge line between semi fanfic posts/drabbles and whatever you consider an 'actual' fanfic to be.

The weird anons needling in about how I want to stop being treated weirdly, or how 'big' blogs need to do xyz for fandom, or how I don't talk to other 'big' blogs - using the same language as the previous anon - to tell me they don't care for my blog and want to further needle in some insults with that.

The weird anon that combed through at least a months worth of posts on my personal blog, where I will vent sometimes since it barely has followers and I dont get interaction really on there, to ask very leading questions on what makes a fanfic 'good' verses being 'perceived as good'...

All of it points to a writer or a small group of writers, very upset that their fanfiction isn't getting 'a lot of notes' (who knows wtf they consider 'a lot' and 'too little', its likely skewed) and using my askbox to give me a headache, to spread harmful thoughts, and to needle in a few insults because I guess they just don't fuckin like me and view me as an easy target.

Some of these asks I haven't posted publicly. I have definitely blocked one, maybe more, but they're coming through anyway with the same baseline. I'm going to encourage you guys to look at asks like these with a more critical eye. Don't be me, but learn from my blundering. Thanks.

[floralovebot]

do you think that winx club season 3 gets way too much praise and is overrated, or is it justified?

i mean? yes and no? the first three seasons are hailed as the best for a reason, and while i do actually like the later seasons and appreciate the ones i don't, a mix of nostalgia and the first three seasons (and first movie) having been planned out from the start will usually beat the rest.

season 3 itself has a lot of memorable and favored aspects! the winx are now a fully established group and are close friends, the big bad villain feels much scarier and more impactful than the previous ones, enchantix, the girls are dealing with extremely traumatic events (which they did before of course but the whole sacrifice for enchantix thing amplifies it), and it genuinely feels like somewhat of a closure to their youth while also being a beginning of their maturity. They're all making really big decisions in s3, ones that affect other people too. S1 and s2 are still wonderful in their own right, but they've been leading up to s3 in very direct ways.

I don't think s3 being overhyped is a bad thing honestly. There are plenty of people who have criticized its shortcomings! Not to mention, it's really not just s3 that gets "overrated". All of the first three seasons get overhyped and hailed as the best, totally perfect seasons, especially in comparison to the later ones. I do think this is a little unfair since s5 and s6, while having plenty of bullshit, are really nice seasons and most people would like them if they had come out earlier. Nostalgia does play a big factor in how much people are willing to.. idk... be nice to the seasons? There are a lot of things in the later seasons that most fans would genuinely be fond of but aren't willing to give a chance specifically because it's from a later season. (like s7 is literally my least favorite season out of all of them (yes including s8) but even then it still has aspects that i genuinely enjoy.)

a big reason why s3 feels overhyped is that people aren't willing to even talk about the later seasons. so like... yes s3 is a little overhyped, and yes i do think people should give the later seasons a chance, but in the same vein, i don't think it's Bad that s3 gets so much praise. there are so many aspects of s3 that are just so good and i don't think it's wrong for fans to praise them! i don't think we should be praising s3 less, but i do think we should have more room for the other seasons and more tolerance for genuine enjoyment of them.

[leilanihours]

# SHE WAS CRYIN' ON MY SHOULDER, ALL I COULD DO WAS HOLD HER

pairing: paige bueckers x ex-gf!reader

word count: 851

warnings: arguing, crying, mentions of abandonment/past relationship

summary: you and paige both have things you need to get off your chests one year after you break up.

⭑ from lani: to that anon i told my next fic would be for kate im so sorry 😭 i was crying to this song earlier and i just needed to write paige to it - so heres my first ever angst fic i hope its not horrible 😛

masterlist !

"Y/N, YOU LEFT me, remember? you left!"

"you didn't even bother to stop me, to fight for me- for us!"

neither of you knew how this escalated so quickly. how a friendly reunion turned into a screaming match.

"it's not my job to pick up the pieces of the shit you broke! so i'm sorry if i didn't feel like working myself over for someone who had no issue leaving."

you know her apology is insincere, sarcastic. but for a split second when you hear her say "i'm sorry," your heart aches for the words you've spent the past year mourning.

"paige," you sigh, trying to calm down before you say something you don't mean, "i know it seems like it, but i did not want to leave the way i did. i didn't have a choice."

"bullshit-"

"can you just be quiet and let me talk?" you snap, immediately shutting her up, "last summer when i disappeared, it was because of my parents. they forced me to come home to them even after i told them i wanted to stay here in connecticut. i swear to you, paige, i fought for us. you didn't see it but i went through hell fighting. and i'm sorry for ending it the way i did but, paige...we were bound to end it at some point. we both knew that. i had to go home eventually."

you both had tears streaming down your faces at this point, chests heaving from not being able to breathe properly.

you stood in front of paige, slowly pacing back and forth as she sat with her arms crossed on the cold park bench absorbing your words.

the darkness of the night engulfed the atmosphere, contributing to the inevitable breaking of your once-intertwined hearts. the only light was dim from the far away lamp post, rusting away from its former beauty - similarly to how you and paige used to be a work of art together, but were now nothing more than a mess of spilled emotions and pent-up grudges.

"and i understand that, y/n, but i deserved an explanation- a goodbye, at the very least. or at least i thought i deserved that."

"don't do that," you challenge, referring to the way she degraded herself in front of you, "is that why you didn't try? to save us?"

"why else wouldn't i? i thought you hated me, i thought-" she pauses to catch her breath and wipe some of the tears that had fallen on her pink lips, "i thought you didn't care about us. as if that summer didn't mean shit to you."

"paige i-"

"no, now it's your turn to listen," she demands, pulling you to sit next to her on the bench, both of her cold hands holding yours, "i never felt so strongly about someone the way i felt about you. i couldn't imagine spending my time away from you, i mean, it literally hurt. so i took advantage of that summer, i took advantage of the little time we had together. and then when i found out you left without a word to me, it broke me. and i know you didn't see it but ask literally any of my friends. i didn't get out of bed for days in a row. i didn't eat, i didn't practice, nothing. it was like you stole the good parts of me, took it, and ran. i needed you, y/n, but you were on the other side of the country. what am i supposed to do with that?"

she's full on sobbing now, shoulders shaking as she doesn't even try to hold in her tears now. you swear you can hear cracks in your own heart and bones forming as she confesses what she went through.

you can't bear watching her suffer anymore, tightly wrapping your arms around her shaking frame. hugs like these were second nature, but this time was different. there was more meaning behind it.

your embrace acted as a shield against any future problems that were to be thrown onto your paths. your embrace acted as a glue repairing the broken pieces of your relationship that laid destroyed for the past how many days. your embrace acted as a genuine embrace.

"paige, i'm so sorry. i'm so sorry, baby, i never wanted to leave you, you have to know that. i'm so sorry," you whisper into her hair.

one of your hands stroke her head buried in your neck. you feel her tears drip onto your thin jacket, soaking you with guilt as it hits you how desperate you were to spend the rest of your life making it up to this girl.

it was clear to you that she actually did care, unlike how you thought last summer. and because of how she was crying on your shoulder, you needed to forget about that version of her you spent so long hating - the version that constantly haunted the back of your mind.

you needed to hold her. and hold her. and hold her. and never let go.

— leilani signing off ! 📁

[frudoo]

just saw the anon for reader helping slasher 141 and now im thinking about actually doing the whole thing. like finding someone, kidnapping them and torturing them. she does it as a gift or surprise. maybe its their anniversary and she wants to give them the best gift ever.

I love this idea, but I just can't see reader ever participating in the torture aspect of her boys' work. She's absolutely not above kidnapping, though.

Warnings: Dark!Fic/DDDNE. Y'all this one is gross (just not in a gory way). Kidnapping/drugging.

 “I have to say, little girl, you look absolutely delicious tonight.”

     You giggle, allowing him to twirl you and trying not to suffocate on the smell of his cheap cologne. The man is loaded and he won’t even spend a pretty penny on some quality fragrance? Although, what else could you expect from a conman like him?

     “Not so bad yourself, Mr. Chief,” you purr, yelping softly when he pinches your asscheek teasingly.

     You want to vomit. Really, you could do it right here, all over his pristinely polished shoes, or on his tailored suit jacket and annoyingly bright tie. The fact that you’ve managed to keep this charade up for the past couple of weeks is astonishing, to say the least, especially given the fact that you’ve been hiding it from the boys. It kills you to see their disappointed faces every time you turn down a night in with them, making up poor excuses about how you’re just going to decorate your classroom, or that your friend has been having a rough time and you’re going to her house to support her.

     The truth is that you’re doing it for their benefit. Herschel Shepherd has been on your boys’ radar for years now, long before they ever met you. It’s just been too risky for them to attempt anything, be it a kidnapping or assassination. He’s too public of a figure as head of police, meaning that he’s protected by a multitude of security personnel, and on top of that, can easily defend himself. Even if they tried to befriend him, suspicions would be raised and it would likely fail.

     That’s where you enter. You’re exactly the chief’s type—a pretty young thing with big, soft tits and a charming smile. The only thing you’re missing is the naivety he’s so desperate to corrupt, but you’ve proven yourself a wonderful actress and he’s none the wiser. For someone who used to be a detective, he really is clueless. Someone should have taught the old man not to flirt with strangers on the internet. You’re just grateful that he took the bait so easy, all too eager to get his dick wet. 

     “Since I’ve treated you to such a nice dinner, how about giving me some dessert?” You hear his knees pop when he bends to whisper into your ear.

     “Anything for you,” you murmur back, “Daddy.”

     For the love of all things holy, you cannot wait to get this bullshit over with. Shepherd wraps his arm around your waist and ushers you into his limo—he really wanted to go all out for his ‘girlfriend,’ apparently. The inside smells like cigar smoke and you have to bite back a frown. It makes you think of John and how desperately you’d prefer to be in his arms instead. In all of their arms. With every disgusting, sloppy kiss the sick fuck peppers across your jawline, you have to remind yourself that it’s all for them.

     For them, for you, for every poor family he’s ever screwed over. It’s all too familiar, the coverups, the paying off coworkers and employees so that they keep their mouths shut. You’ve read about countless cases against heinous criminal acts that were suddenly dismissed when a certain slob threw a large sum of money towards the judges. You can’t even begin to imagine how many women alone have been assaulted because this corrupt piece of shit paid to let their abusers go—and for what? To gain favor? To get reelected? God knows he cheats his way through the system anyway.

     You feel your hand being tugged and realize that you’ve arrived at the parking lot where your car still is, some random garage located in the heart of the downtown area—about an equal walk from any little shop or restaurant in the vicinity. Your ‘date’ furrows his eyebrows and looks at you, confused.

     “A little Toyota Corolla is more inconspicuous than a limousine, don’t you think?” you hum as you pull out your keys.

     “Right,” Shepherd nods, opening the driver’s side door for you. “We are still going to the hotel?”

     “Of course.”

     He buckles into the passenger seat while you start the car, messing with the air conditioning like it’s his right. You avoid rolling your eyes as you begin driving, softly humming along to the radio. There’s a tin of mints in your glovebox that you pull out and offer to him. All according to plan, he takes the bait.

     Almost instantly after popping the tainted mint into his bastard mouth, he starts getting woozy, saying odd things and swaying in his seat. Adrenaline rushes through your veins—this is really happening. You’re kidnapping the chief of police, your husbands’ most desired target, driving him back to your home to be tortured and killed. It’s surreal, and there’s guilt eating away at whatever sense of retribution you’d created in your head. Still, there’s no turning back now.

     No turning back from the rattle of his unconscious body as you drive over the gravel path leading to the barn. No turning back from the strain you put on yourself as you haul his deadweight through the random pieces of hay, nor the act of tying his arms behind the metal pole in the stable where horses should be but has only kept victims. This is a decision you made and will have to live with. For the greater good, you ask yourself, or for the praise you know you’ll receive from your boys? In the end, it’s all one and the same to you. 

     As you stand over the comatose-laden sleazebag, you hardly make out the sound of the barn door slamming open and all four of your lovers trailing in with wide eyes.

     “Bloody hell.”

     “No fuckin’ way.”

     “Steamin’ Jesus, hen.”

     “Darlin’, how in the fuck did you manage this?”

     There’s a beat of silence before you turn around to look at them, your face maddeningly neutral.

     “Happy anniversary, guys.”

[seeingivy]

so high school

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my gojo as taylor songs series

an: so sorry to the dream girl fans, had to expedite this one. taylor as gojo anon its your lucky day.

--

you were always under the impression that people like satoru gojo were perfect. 

flawless even. 

at times, you were even inclined to think that it was unfair; that some people were born with perfect looks, charming personalities, with intellect and intelligence to match. that they didn’t have to struggle. 

though it seems at the current moment, you stood corrected. because the so-called rumors that you had heard about satoru – that he always participated in class, that the teachers loved him – they might have still stood true, but the underlying implication that was always insinuated, that he was naturally intelligent, wasn't. 

it slightly cracked a sheen into the persona. you wondered if the girls in your english literature class would still giggle about him the way they did under their breaths if they knew. though knowing them, they probably would find some way to make his ineptness endearing. 

“this is the quadratic formula. did you understand this one when we went over it in class?” you ask. 

“yes.” satoru responds, seething. 

“okay, so if that’s the case, can you solve this problem for me?” you ask. 

you slide the paper over to satoru, eyes hopeful, as you watch a blank expression spread over his face.  it’s something that he does often, or at least in this setting from what you can tell of the total of two hours that have passed. 

the entire session seems to be a lot of talking into the air – with him opting to listen to you explain the question rather than try it on his own or admit where exactly it is that he needs help. 

you’re not surprised that he has an ego about getting forced to do remedial tutoring. 

“you know, listening to explain it over and over again won’t really help. you have to be able to struggle your way through the question on your own.” you respond. 

satoru gives you a shrug, before taking the paper into his own hands. 

“this is bullshit. and i get that i have to like know this shit because like…societies and shit before me knew it all but i don’t really understand the point. coach is just making me do this bullshit to keep me from playing more. 

you pinch your lips into a line. the algebra teacher and basketball coach, masamichi yagi, had, in confidence, told you the exact opposite. that satoru was bright and talented – on the road to where he wanted to go – but his grades were going to hold him back if he didn’t try harder. 

you can still hear his words in your head. 

he can be tough to work with when he’s frustrated, but just try to get through to him. he’s smart enough to do this. 

“i mean, the past societies and stuff learned it and emphasize passing it on because it’s actually really relevant to what you’re doing right now.” you respond. 

“yeah, maybe for nerd shit that you do, but it’s not really relevant to where i want to go.” satoru responds. 

you roll your eyes. he didn’t have to be irritating about it. 

“and where’s that?” you ask. 

and in a split second, you see satoru smile for the first time, this close. you weren’t a stranger to him at all – almost no one was with the way the basketball team's pictures were plastered all over the school in the yearbook – but you had never sat so close to him before, at least not in years. 

he a dimple on the right side and three freckles on the left. 

“i’m going to be a starting point guard on an nba basketball team.” satoru whispers. 

“you want to go pro?” you ask. 

“hell yeah. it’s all i’ve ever wanted since i was a kid.” 

you smile. you had heard it before – that he was electric on the court – but you didn’t realize that it was serious enough to pursue a basketball career. 

“i hate to break it to you, but the quadratic formula will be really useful to you in the future.” you respond. 

satoru scoffs. you take the board from him, drawing out the trajectory of the line, as he explains. 

“the reason that you use the quadratic formula is to find the solution of the equation. it can actually tell you more than you think – about where something needs to be in space, how fast it needs to move. if you’re standing all the way at the end of the basketball court, as far away from the net as possible, you’re not going to shoot right?” you ask. 

“obviously not.” satoru responds, sarcastically. 

“and you’re not going to try from right underneath the net?” 

“not if i want to get my ass beat by coach.” 

“so you know that you have to find the right spot to try from because it’ll give you your best possible shot at getting it into the basket. that’s how the equation works – figuring out the best possible spot to where your solution works.” 

satoru rolls his eyes at you. 

“so?” 

“so. you should think about it like that. don’t make it so abstract because it’s honestly way too boring to try to do it that way. finding applications will help you get through how difficult it is. if you want to get scouted for division one basketball, you have to have good grades.” 

satoru clicks his tongue in his cheek. 

“do you want me to do the quadratic formula in my head every time i make a shot?” 

you roll your eyes. 

“obviously not. but you have to admit that something like that would be helpful. and it is helpful, for people who do engineering, fly planes, all of that type of stuff. the application will just make it more interesting or relevant for you.” you respond. 

“how do you get through it?” he asks. 

you pause. 

“what?” 

“your application or whatever. to make you do it without getting bored.” 

you can feel your cheeks burn. 

“i actually don’t have one. i was just making that up.” 

satoru’s eyes widen. 

“you gave me a whole inspirational lecture with shit you pulled out of your ass?” satoru asks, eyes incredulous. 

you note that there’s a whisper of a smile on his face. 

“part of the job is motivating students! and i don’t have one because what i want to do actually does have no application to this..” you respond. 

satoru nods, before leaning forward on the desk, his cheek in the palm of his hand as he smiles.

“so what do you want to do?” he asks. 

“what?” 

“in the future. i’d love to hear whatever it is that doesn’t have a real life application to math, so i can use it as a backup plan if this whole basketball thing doesn’t work out.” 

you glare at him. 

“this is a tutoring session, not social hour.” 

“oh come on. you’re no fun. i promise i’ll actually try if you tell me.” satoru responds. 

you debate lying. 

you debate lying because you know this is how he is, because you’ve seen him do this since the second he had his growth spurt in the sixth grade. tell different girls that they’re pretty, flatter them by asking them personal questions, and flirt like it was the air he breathed. 

and it makes you mad – only because you were that girl in seventh grade. giggling to yourself about how he said your braids were pretty, asking about if you were going to the dance, and everything in between. 

the only reason that the girls who whispered about him in your english literature class annoy you is because they remind you of yourself. though that stopped dead in his tracks when you realized that it was something that he did with everyone. 

satoru’s eyes are expectant, waiting for an answer, and you convince yourself later that night that it’s why you gave in and told him what you’ve never told anyone before. not because he really was attractive and charming – but only because he told you his first.

“scout’s honor you won’t tell?” you ask. 

satoru signals with the little cross over his heart, before giving you a nod. 

“i want to be a singer.” you respond. 

satoru’s eyes widen. 

“you’d be great for that!” 

“what?” 

“oh, come on. you’ve been the lead of every musical since like freshman year. and i remember that song you wrote about cheerleaders or whatever in sixth grade, it was really good.”

you widen your eyes. 

“you remember that?” you ask. 

“what was it called? i just remember it was like cheer captain and bleachers or something like that. mei mei got really mad at the time because she thought you were talking about her.” 

you laugh. 

“it was called you belong with me. there was a lyric in it, she’s cheer captain and i’m on the bleachers. and she was right to be mad, because it was about her. i can’t even believe you remember that.” you respond. 

satoru smirks. 

“do you just think i’m some asshole? we’ve gone to the same school since preschool. i like to think we’re friends – that’s why i picked you to be my tutor.” satoru responds. 

you didn’t know that part. you had figured that yaga had just reached out to you because you were one of the top students in the class.  

“i don’t know. i didn’t realize you remembered all that! i kind of thought you didn’t even know my name.” you respond. 

satoru smiles. 

“your name is y/n. you used to wear pigtail braids in first grade with ribbons in them. you’re really smart and you always have been. you went to the dance in seventh grade with that robotics nerd nanami kento. and one time you picked me for heads up seven up in fourth grade.” satoru responds. 

you feel your cheeks warm up. 

at the heat of your infatuation with satoru, you had made your move in the only way that you knew how – by picking him in heads up seven up. 

once in a while, you would get to play the game in class – when it was someone's birthday or you were waiting for an assembly to start. the teacher would pick seven students and the rest would put their heads down at their desks, with their thumbs up. the people who were selected got to pick anyone they wanted in the room and tap on their head. if the people who were tapped were able to guess who picked them correctly, they got to switch in. 

you picked satoru. and he guessed correctly. 

“kind of had a big fat crush on you after that, if i’m not going to lie.” satoru jokes. 

“what? over the heads up seven up?” 

satoru nods. 

“you picked me out of a room of forty people. i was ready to propose marriage.” satoru jokes. 

you snort. 

“don’t say that. i totally would have said yes. i obviously picked you for a reason.” 

satoru looks up at you, eyes wide in something you can’t really place, before he grins at you brightly. 

“you bitch! we could have been childhood sweethearts at this point if you weren’t such a chicken.” 

“me? you should have made a move. the ball was in your court after i tapped on you in heads up seven up.” 

satoru sighs. 

“oh ten year old satoru. dropping the ball as always.” 

you roll your eyes, before sliding the worksheet back over to him. satoru groans, before sneaking the paper closer to him, and scratching his head as he looks at the paper. you lean over the tiniest bit of the desk, trying to make a mess of his scribbling, and making sure he’s on the right path. 

“why’d you pick that one as c?” you ask. 

“was i not supposed to?”

“i mean, no. i just wanted to figure out why so you don’t do it next time.” 

it goes like that for the rest of the hour. he tends to make silly mistakes or get hopelessly lost in the middle, but answers one question correctly by the end of the session – which he takes as a win. 

he says one thing that sticks in your mind before he leaves, with the same expectant eyes waiting for an answer as he hangs off of the door frame. 

“y/n?” 

“yeah?”

“when you become a big famous singer, will you invite me to your first show?” satoru asks. 

you smile, before looking down at your hands and twisting the silver rings on your fingers. 

“if that happens, sure. only if you invite me to the first game where you get to start.” you respond. 

satoru grins brightly, his eyes crinkling in the smile.  

“i'm betting on it. you and me.” 

--

three months into tutoring – and a few ice cream cones and movies here and there – satoru invites you to go to a party with him.

“you know, i’m not really into the party scene, satoru.” you respond. 

“but you’re into me, because i’m the love of your life, so you should come anyways.” 

satoru does that often. flirt, make jokes about how the two of you are meant to be, and everything in between. troy and gabriella because you’re a brainiac and he’s an athlete. the best love story, since you’ve liked each other from the start. 

but you know that he’s joking, because he does that with everyone. it doesn’t mean that it isn’t nice to pretend that it’s true sometimes. 

“look, mei mei has a bunch of drinks that her dad bought for the party, so you should just come and let loose.” 

you widen your eyes. 

“you know mei mei hates me right?” 

“it’s okay, being around her will give you more material to write for your songs. then you can sing it on your sold out world tour.” satoru jokes. 

he also does that often. talk about your dream like it’s most certainly going to come true. talk about how he’s going to be front row, how you’re going to be the half-time show for his championship games, and how fans will adore your love story and humble backgrounds in tutoring. 

“come on. i’ll pick you up at six, okay?” 

at six pm, satoru honks the horn of his shitty honda civic for six minutes before you oblige and give in. and the party goes well – with satoru sticking by your side, introducing you to his best friend suguru, and making you do shots with cheap tequila. 

it goes well until they start playing a mixed version of truth or dare and spin the bottle. you have two options when the bottle lands on you – kissing the person who span it or getting a truth or dare from them. 

it’s not your idea of fun. because while you would have easily opted for just being asked truthful questions all night, you realize that the stuff that they ask and insinuate is no joke. 

and after an hour, satoru kisses suguru – much to suguru’s dismay – and shoko gets dared to prank call her ex-girlfriend, utahime, which goes insanely horrible. it felt like intruding to listen to the two of them argue so openly on the phone. 

when mei mei spins the bottle, it lands on you. 

“please don’t try to kiss me.” 

you pinch your lips in a line. 

“i wasn’t planning on it. i’ll do truth.” 

she breaths a dramatic sigh of relief. you shoot satoru a smile, who shakes it off as plain joking, before you swallow hard. 

“fuck, marry, kill. satoru, suguru, and choso.” 

you feel your eyes widen. 

“was the game not kiss, marry, kill?” you respond. 

“if we’re in the sixth grade.” mei mei responds.

you fidget with your fingers in your lap, all three of them expectantly looking at you, as you feel your voice shake. 

“um. marry satoru. and then i guess…i’ll kill choso? and you know the last one.” you respond. 

“and i thought we were friends.” choso responds, voice dripping with sarcasm as the group of them snicker. 

“we can go do that right now, that’s not a problem. should we switch the game to seven minutes in heaven?” suguru responds, snickering over his shoulder with shoko who doesn’t entertain one second of his nonsense. 

satoru is the only one who doesn’t say anything. and they move on just as fast, spinning the bottle over and over again, while you overthink what just happened – how awkward you were being, how satoru slightly shifted away from you on the hard carpet, and how you very desperately want to go home. 

when you spin the bottle, you hope to god it doesn’t land on him. but it’s just your luck, because it points directly at suguru, who is now very smugly seated next to satoru. 

“are you going to kiss me?” suguru asks. 

you know that he’s joking. you know deep down that this is just something that makes them laugh, that deep down, you wouldn’t really have to if you didn’t want to, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing to be cornered like this. 

“no.” you respond. 

suguru feigns hurt. 

“why not?”

you look down at your hands. 

“i’ve never kissed anyone before.” 

“i can fix that.” suguru responds. 

you shake your head. and in the split second that passes, you can feel satoru’s hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you down the stairs and out the door, and leading you down the street to where he parked his car. 

he’s quiet as he rummages in his pockets for his key, angrily yanking on the door, as you stand on the pavement. 

“come on. we’re going home.” he responds, leaning his hands on the open door as he gestures for you to move to the passengers side. 

you shake your head, feeling hot burning tears in your eyes, as you look at him. 

“are you mad at me or something?” you ask. 

“what?” 

“i don’t know! i didn’t know what to say when mei mei asked me that. i don’t ever want to offend you or hurt your feelings or anything. and i wasn’t going to kiss your friend, you didn’t have to drag me out of there like that because i wasn’t even going to consider it.” 

satoru sighs, leaning his cheek against the window, as he gives you a halfhearted smile. 

“i’m not mad at you. or what you said.” 

“okay, because i thought that was the best option! marry is objectively the option you save for the best person in the options because that’s the person you have to kiss too. like when you marry someone you obviously have to kiss them and you’re not going to kill them, so you save it for the best.” you respond, rambling. 

satoru grins. 

“you think i’m the best option?” 

you groan. 

“shut up. i don’t even know choso. and suguru is…suguru. no.” 

satoru smiles, walking away from the open door, before reaching for your wrists and squeezing hard. 

“i’m not mad at you. i just got…annoyed back there for a second.” satoru murmurs. 

“at?” 

satoru tries to stifle his sigh. 

“i didn’t want suguru to kiss you.” satoru responds. 

“that makes two of us, genius.” you respond, earning you a laugh from him. 

“i wanted it to land on me. i know it’s just a game, but really. i wanted it to be me.” satoru murmurs. 

you laugh. 

“okay, satoru. truth or dare. i can give you one right now.” you respond, giving him a peachy smile as you wait for him to respond. 

but he doesn’t. because all you see in the dim lamplight of the street is satoru, frowning at you. his eyes are expectant, but not waiting for an answer this time – but for you to understand what he was trying to say. 

that he wanted you to kiss him. 

it takes you five seconds. five seconds of bright blue eyes to get it. 

“oh.” you respond. 

you pause. 

“really?” you whisper. 

satoru shrugs. almost like he’s embarrassed. 

you lift your hands, gesturing for him to wait right there, as you duck into the car from the door that he opened, and reach over the seats for the water bottle that you left in there a few days ago. 

“fuck, ow.” you whisper. 

“are you okay?” satoru asks, leaning closer to peek his head through the door. 

“yeah. yeah. just looking for something.” 

you find it underneath the seat – a wrinkled mess of plastic from the heat and three sips of lukewarm water left. you push out of the car, holding up the little bottle in between the two of you, to which satoru gives you a confused look. 

“i wouldn’t drink that.” satoru responds. 

you shake your head, before crouching to the ground, and placing the bottle on the ground. you gesture for satoru to join you, the two of you hunching over with your heads pressed together. and you reach forward and spin the bottle, only for it to point towards the car. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” you murmur. 

you readjust the bottle, manually pointing it towards satoru, as you look back up at him and give him a smile. 

“i don’t get it.” satoru responds. 

“it landed on you.” you respond. 

you watch satoru’s throat bob. 

“what?” he whispers. 

“i spun. it landed on you.” you respond. 

you swear he’s blushing in the moonlight. 

“y/n.”

“are you going to kiss me, satoru?” you whisper. 

it’s a split second before satoru reaches forward, pulling you up by the wrists, and yanking you into the backseat of his car to do just that. you can taste the remnants of the cheap tequila on his lips, the feeling warm in your chest as he smiles – no, laughs – into the kiss. 

in the seconds that pass, you lean your forehead against satoru’s, the two of you lightly panting as you catch your breaths – his hands warm on your waist and yours underneath his biceps. 

“did you really pick me out of everyone to be your math tutor?” you whisper. 

satoru laughs. 

“i knew what i wanted. and i got her.” satoru whispers. 

you get signed on to a record label a year later, two months before you graduate high school. it breaks your heart to leave him behind when the fall comes around. 

--

four years later 

“did the tour bus get stalled?” you ask. 

yuki looks up from her clipboard, switching off the little knob on her earpiece, as she takes the open seat next to you. 

“yeah. they’ve got it stuck inside the fencing outside the stadium, they’re just trying to push it through now.” yuki responds. 

“can’t we just walk out to the car?” you ask. 

yuki shakes her head again. 

“fans go out the same way. if you want to avoid getting mobbed on the way out here, it’s best to wait.” yuki responds. 

“if we have to wait, i’m just going to go lie down in the dressing room. come get me when it’s here?” you ask. 

yuki gives you a nod as you walk off to the other side of the stadium, the heels of your feet aching from the high stiletto boots you were wearing breaking halfway through the performance, as you shake through the messy tresses of your hair. 

“it was so nice to meet you, man. you said she was over this way?” 

you feel your eyes widen as you turn your head to the left – to the voice that you can recognize anywhere – and feel a dry patch in your throat. at the sight of satoru, an obscenely tall version of satoru, standing three feet away from you, talking to one of the members of your crew. 

you watch as satoru gives a polite smile and walks down the way towards your dressing room, already six whole paces in front of you from how long his legs are now, as you follow behind him, wiping away the darkness of smudged makeup under your eyes and brushing down the beads of your dress. 

it can’t be him, can it? you desperately wished there was something else to wear besides the bedazzled bodysuit you were wearing currently. 

you watch as satoru knocks on your door, expectantly waiting for a response at the door, as he wipes his hands against the sides of his pants. and you walk up right behind him, nervously clearing your throat, as he turns around and gives you a wide smile. 

“ah. right, hi! i was just looking for you. my name is…” 

“satoru.” you finish. 

there was no way he thought you actually forgot him, did he? 

satoru unclenches his shoulders, an immediate pang of relief spreading through his face, as he gives you a smile – a dimple on the right and three freckles on the left – as you feel a pang of hurt in your chest. 

he looks good. he looks even better than you left him, his striking white hair longer than it was before and the smallest amount of wrinkles around his eyes. 

“you remember.” satoru responds. 

you bite on the inside of your cheek, to stop yourself from smiling at him fully. 

“do you just think i’m some asshole? we’ve gone to the same school since preschool.” you respond. 

satoru rolls his eyes at the words – the same ones he said years prior – as he crosses his hands over his chest. and you can’t help but contain your excitement and lean forward, a gesture he returns as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and squeeze hard. 

“satoru, oh my fucking god. you should have told me you were coming.” you respond, leaning back as he reaches up to cup the side of your cheek and smile down at you. 

“how could i?” he asks. 

“you could text me. i have a phone.” you joke. 

satoru gives you a smile. 

“you know, when you change your number, that means i can’t text you.” 

you groan, smacking your palm against your forehead. 

“shit. i totally forgot. i was just so stressed out at the time because…” 

“because someone leaked your phone number and people were calling you at every hour of the day. i know.” 

you feel your chest pang, mainly at the fact that satoru was here – that he thought you forgot him and, in earnest, you really had forgotten him. that he was keeping tabs, that he knew everything that you were up to in the years since you separated – from your phone number getting leaked to the fact that you were performing tonight – and you couldn’t say the same. 

you frown. 

“right. i’m sorry, i meant to give it to you, i just…” 

“were going through a lot at the time. first world tour, six grammy nominations, and some friends who weren’t the greatest, i gathered.” 

you sigh. 

“you don’t know the half of it.” you respond. 

satoru shakes his head. 

“i mean, i do. but i’d love to hear it from you, if…if you ever wanted to tell me?” satoru asks. 

he has that same look in his eyes. timid, expectant eyes, shy and waiting for an answer. 

“of course i would want to tell you.” you whisper. 

satoru smiles. 

“good. i’d love to hear it.” satoru responds. 

it doesn’t feel real. it doesn’t feel real that four year ago satoru kissed you in the moonlight on a horribly paved street, that you had to leave him behind on that same cobblestone four years ago, and now he’s standing in front of you – the two of you the same as before, satoru the same, maybe even better, than the way you left him. 

“what are you doing here, satoru?” you ask. 

he smiles, before reaching into his pocket, and pulling out two little pieces of paper. he hands them over to you, as you read the fine print. 

July 19th 

San Francisco Golden State Warriors versus Los Angeles Lakers 

“i’m the starting point guard for an nba basketball team. i promised you an invite to my first game.” he murmurs. 

you press the tickets close to your chest, as you give him a nod. 

“y/n. the tour bus is here!” yuki screams at the end of the hall, frantic hands waving you over, as you turn back to satoru with a pinched look. 

he smiles in response. 

“don’t worry. i’ll see you in a week.” he responds. 

--

the week that follows is agonizing. 

you scavenge every corner of the internet to find out everything about him known to the public. where he lives, what he’s been up to, what team he plays for. 

he’s the starting point guard for the lakers, his hometown team for where he’s lived for the past four years. it seems that he had made his escape from the suburbs around the same time that you had, by playing division one basketball at the university of southern california, before getting a straight bid into the nba. 

he’s the youngest starting point guard in history. he’s broken his own all time record multiple times and was one of the youngest people to get signed on with the league. 

he likes to cook. suguru made his way onto the team with him. the two of them are a dynamic duo – famous for their hilarious interviews. he’s a father. he adopted two kids that lived in his neighborhood after their dad tragically passed away – megumi and tsumiki. 

and most of all, he’s the same as you left him. because in every interview you watch, you hear the same thing. 

“satoru, which artist is on your pregame playlist?” 

“if you could go to any concert, which would it be?” 

“who do you dream to collaborate with in the future?” 

it’s the same answer every time. 

y/n l/n, of course. 

you can hear his voice in your head already. 

i knew what i wanted. and i got her. 

--

the stadium is an overstimulating amount of loud – something exacerbated by how nervous you are – as you walk down the steps to the court, stomach erupting into a nervous mess of butterflies. 

satoru gifted you courtside seats to the opening game. and if he was going to follow suit like he always did, his kids would be sitting right next to you, dead center to watch him play. 

you catch sight of his white tufts of hair at the center of the court, fans in the stands excitedly pointing at him practicing free throws with his teammates, and snapping pictures. you see a group of girls in his jersey giggling at the side, zooming in to take photos and loudly talking about how hot he looked when he pushed his hair back with a headband during the game. 

girls on twitter loved the headband. it seemed that among most things, one thing never changed – how much people adored satoru. 

as you get closer to the lights, you can tell that people notice your attendance, hushed whispers and pointed fingers at you as you make your way down to the waxed court, your shoes clicking on the wood, as you walk over to your seat. 

you hope satoru doesn’t think it’s too forward that you decided to wear his jersey – with his last name spelled out on the back – as you take a seat. 

you wipe your sweaty hands on the pleats of your white tennis skirt, fiddling with the beaded bracelet on your hands, as one of satoru’s teammates eyes widen at the sight of you, before they all but run over to smack him across the shoulder. 

satoru looks over at you, giving you a soft smile, as he drops the ball and starts making strides over to where you’re sitting. you can feel your cheeks burning as you stand up, waiting for him to fully approach and he does the same thing he used to – wrapping his hands around your wrists as he leans forward, the smallest sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

“i’d hug you, but i’m a little gross right now, brainiac.” he murmurs. 

you shake your head. 

“no problem. these are nice seats.” 

he smiles. 

“i’d let you bring a friend, but i had to save –” 

“the other two tickets for your kids. megumi and tsumiki. they’re your neighbor's kids, who you adopted after their dad passed away.” you finish. 

satoru widens his eyes, before poking his tongue in the side of his cheek, and giving you a grin. 

“did your research, did you?” 

you shrug. 

“i did. but i’d love to hear about it, if you’ll tell me...” you respond. 

satoru laughs. 

“tsumiki is a really big fan. megumi doesn’t believe me when i said that you and i used to date, but he doesn’t believe anything i say anyways. they’re my favorite people in the world. and i love to make dad jokes.” satoru responds. 

you smile. of course he does. 

“i’m excited to meet them. i’ll give tsumiki a whole personal concert. signed cds or vinyls, whatever you want.” you state. 

“i’d withhold that for now. i think she’s going to have a heart attack from excitement all at once when she realizes daddy is dating her idol.” 

you feel like you’re in high school. you feel like it’s thursday after lunch and satoru’s walking you to class, making jokes about how the two of you are going to end up together. saying you’re troy and gabriella, about how no one will understand each other like you, about how you’re going to be at the halftime show performance at his championship game. 

“one last thing.” satoru states. 

“what’s that?” 

he reaches into the pocket of his shorts, procuring a set of blue earplugs and placing them in the palm of your hand. 

“i remember you hate how loud it can get. and this is going to be ten times worse than our shitty school gym, so wear these.” satoru states. 

you can’t help but frown at the thoughtfulness, looking back up at the bright smile he’s giving you, before squeezing his hand. satoru leans forward and pinches the softness of your cheek, before running back to the center of the court and practicing with the team. 

you can tell that some of them are jeering at him – giggling behind him as he shoots from different parts of the court, and you memorize the permanent smile that seems to be etched on to his face. suguru gives you a wave, before blowing you a kiss, which earns him a hard shove from satoru on the court. 

--

two months later, the two of you follow the same routine. satoru travels around the country for his games. you do the same for your tours – and whenever the cities overlap, which coincidentally every week they almost do – the two of you get dinner, eat breakfast. he insists on sleeping on his couch so you can take his bed, but you convince him to stay and just share.  

satoru says the overlap is fate. you tell him that he’s ridiculous. he says that it has to be fate – that you have to be meant to be, because you get back into it just as quickly as the two of you fell into it. 

satoru tells you that he’s proud of you. your fans post videos of him at your shows – bright smiles on his face as he sings along to all of the words of your songs. you decide to surprise him at the third show he comes to, by singing his favorite song – you belong with me. you both joke about how mei mei is pissed wherever she is. 

you tell satoru that you’re proud of him too. you watch every game courtside and really, are just in awe of him as you are when you were seventeen, blue paint splattered on your cheeks as you cheer him on – the muffled sounds of the crowd in your ears. you always carry three pairs of ear plugs, the extra two for megumi and tsumiki. 

you think you love him. you think you always will. you realize that no one was ever going to have your heart like he did. 

satoru has a home game in los angeles in late august. and his manager invites you to the afterparty two minutes away from the stadium, your transportation arranged with megumi and tsumiki. 

you think they’re adorable. you think satoru is the best dad. 

at a whopping seven years old, tsumiki reminds you of satoru. full of energy and light, she talks a hundred words per minute. the second you walk into the afterparty, you watch as she beelines to the big group of people, suguru quickly picking her up as she starts chattering loudly. 

megumi’s the opposite. a little shy for his age, you swear that he squeezes your hand harder as you stand at the doorway of the crowded room. and true to satoru’s words – he really didn’t believe that you and satoru used to be friends, let alone date, but states that it must be because satoru did some black magic on you. 

he makes jokes like that all the time. 

“you okay?” you ask. 

“yeah. have you seen my dad?” he asks. 

you frown. 

“no.” 

megumi gives you a halfhearted sigh. 

“okay.” 

megumi gets nervous. the only people he feels comfortable around are satoru and tsumiki. 

“you know, your dad never changes. he used to do this to me all the time too.” you state. 

“do what?” 

“drag me to parties. it’s not really my scene.” 

megumi smiles. 

“really?” 

you nod. 

“i wouldn’t even know most of the people there. one time he took me to the birthday party of a girl who literally hated me.” 

megumi laughs. 

“of course he did. some romantic he makes himself out to be. but really, i don’t care. i just hate waiting for tsumiki to come back.” megumi states. 

you smile in response. 

“well, how about we wait in the kitchen? there’ll be less people there.” 

you tug megumi along to the kitchen, quickly lifting him to sit on the counter, as you rummage through the fridge – trying to catch your breath from whatever alternate universe you’re living in. 

you’re in satoru’s house, with all of his friends. his kids seem to like you. he scored the most points out of the game, including the winning shot with six seconds left on the scoreboard. you have no idea where he is or what you’re doing right now or – 

“hi.” 

you slam the door shut, only to find suguru getou towering over you, with a smile on his face. 

“hi.” you respond, reaching up to tuck the hair behind your ears as you take a step back. 

“it’s been a long time, girl scout.” 

you try to stifle your sigh. 

“sure has been.” you respond. 

“satoru’s really keen on hiding you away.” 

you awkwardly nod, twisting the silver rings on your hands, as you give him a smile. 

“we’re just getting to know each other, that's all.” you respond. 

suguru widens his eyes. 

“what is there to find out? you’ve known each other since you were toddlers.” suguru responds. 

you shrug. 

“i don’t know. a lot of time has passed.” you murmur. 

suguru pinches his eyes shut, in frustration. 

“you’d think that would make the two of you more eager.” he responds. 

“what do you mean?” 

“if it were me, if i felt the way the two of you obviously do, then i’d get a move on. i’d be unable to contain it.” 

you glare. 

“you don’t know how we feel. and there’s a lot on the line here.” 

suguru crosses his arms over his chest. 

“do you like him?” suguru asks. 

“what?” 

“because he loves you. basketball has always been his dream, but even more so when he realized that it would be a reason to talk to you again. he’s listened to all of your albums the second they came out, seen you perform every time you came around these parts, and cursed the hell out of every movie star asshole who has talked shit about you publicly or hurt your feelings.” suguru responds. 

you sigh. 

“i’ll ask you again. do you like him? because he. loves. you. you make him so nervous that he won’t make the first move, just like he wouldn’t when you were sixteen.” 

“of course i do. i –” 

“do i need to threaten to kiss you again?” suguru asks. 

it’s right at that second that satoru parades into the kitchen and you can tell from the way that he yanks suguru back by the year that he only heard the very end of the conversation. 

“that joke doesn’t get any funnier the fifth time you say it.” satoru seethes. 

“get a move on before i do, dumbass.” suguru responds, giving satoru one last shove before walking off. 

you don’t have time to think about his words, but one thought crosses your mind – that suguru might have been so insistent at that party all of those years ago, because he knew it would push something forward between the two of you. 

he sure had a strange way of being a wingman. 

at the sight of satoru, megumi’s holding his little hands out – something satoru obliges to as he picks him up – before turning over to face you. 

“do you want me to kill him?” he asks. 

you smile. 

“i know he’s just kidding.” you respond. 

satoru rolls his eyes. 

“i was kind of hoping you would say yes.” 

“did you used to date suguru too?” megumi asks. 

you widen your eyes. 

“absolutely not. just your dad, no one else.” you respond. 

“god megumi, that’s not just something that you can ask someone.” tsumiki murmurs, padding into the kitchen with pink cheeks, as she wraps her arm around your leg. 

you return the affection, reaching down to push her bangs away from her forehead, as you look back at satoru. he stares a little too long, before looking over at megumi and whispering. 

“can you and tsumiki take a walk real quick?” 

megumi gives him a nod as satoru sets him down, the two of them walking away hand in hand to the other side of the room, as satoru turns back to you, reaching forward to wrap his hands around your wrists. 

“hey.” he whispers. 

“hi.” you whisper back. 

he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. 

“did you enjoy the game?” 

“sure did. tsumiki and i shared rainbow airheads. and megumi gave me a really big hug after you won, which almost made me cry.” you respond. 

“i’ll say. i almost cried when i saw all three of you hugging on the jumbotron.” 

you lean forward, pressing yourself against his chest, as you link your arms together behind his back. you can hear suguru’s words racing through your mind – if it were me i wouldn’t be able to contain it, do you like him? because he loves you – and it makes your skin burn. 

“hey. you okay?” satoru asks. 

you say the only thing that you can think of. 

“yeah. i’m just…really happy..” you whisper. 

satoru pinches your cheek.

“me too.” he responds.  

“ever since i left, my life has changed, so drastically, so quickly. i went from being a girl from a small suburb in new york to being someone that…that a lot of people knew about. wanted to know about. sometimes this stuff makes me feel like i’m not really that person anymore.” 

you pause. 

“but every time you look at me i can…i do feel like that again. like someone who was in high school, who hated school dances, and did the morning announcements. someone who loved you. who was with you.” 

you sigh. 

“no one’s ever had me like you. i don’t know if you’re joking when you say it, but it really is fate. you really are….are my soulmate or my invisible string or whatever. you…you’re it for me.” 

satoru lets go of your wrists, before reaching for the closest cupboard and reaching for a bottle, and placing it flat on the floor. he’s crouching on his knees, your chest so full of love you can barely stomach it, as he gestures for you to crouch on the floor close to him, his cheeks pink in the light. 

you watch as he spins the bottle, only for it to miss and land on the fridge. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me...” satoru responds. 

he reaches forward, twisting the bottle so it faces you, before looking at you expectantly. the same way he looked every other time – waiting for you to tell him what your dream job was, waiting for you to kiss him, and now waiting for you to confess for a second time. 

“are you going to kiss me, y/n?” 

you whisper it against his lips. 

“guess what?” 

“what?” 

“i knew what i wanted. and i got him.” 

--

an: our very first ttpd gojo as taylor <3 this post was sponsored by @yuutito, @neptuneblue, and @um-no-ok through my participation in fics for gaza! thank you so much for donating - I hope you liked the piece!!! i went a little bit over the promised wordcount as I started writing, but left it as is to be posted since we met the goal. a reminder that i'm still taking submissions for my wips (i'll be putting a new one up) and for requests!

the gojo as taylor masterlist

taglist: @invisible-mori @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme  @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @torureadz @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga

[lemonhemlock]

I did not get into Game of thrones when it first started airing. In fact, I waited until it was long past it's heyday (around s6 or 7) to check it out because the marketing and the conversation surrounding it misled me into thinking it was nothing more than "grimdark" bullshit. As one famous YouTuber sarcastically called it "hot fantasy that fucks." So, I avoided Martin's work for literal years due to the impression that I got from online reactors and show-only casuals who did as you and a few others have described as his work being fundamentally misinterpreted.

Fortunately, I overcame my hang-ups, purchased the books (even the supplementary material) and fell down an entire rabbit hole of ASOIAF which led me to recognizing that this world he spent decades creating is far more complex than what had been portrayed onscreen. Regardless of the possibility of the books remaining unfinished (which I am fine with, personally), what George has created is a genuine work of art that I imagine took a tremendous amount of time and energy. So, for so many people online to behave like children and throw tantrums because they feel entitled to him (ew) instead of ushering forth more reasonable conversations and legitimate debates about the nature of his situation frankly makes me look at this fandom with a heavy dose of skepticism.

It is truly baffling to hear even professional critics and see articles describing George as being "ungrateful" or "unprofessional" when it has been well-documented just how often authors get locked out of the adaptation process and left to the wayside as consultants. Look at what happened to Rick Riordan and Christopher Paolini! George R.R. Martin is not the only author to have qualms with how a multimillion dollar studio has mishandled his creative work, and to act like he should remain silent just because he's amassed a certain degree of wealth is quite frankly, ridiculous. He shouldn't have to settle down, be grateful, and stay quiet because the greedy corporate executives and their media drones will get offended by actual criticism that could alter the perception of the adaption being revealed as mediocre for having departed from the source material.

TLDR: authors should be allowed to speak up about their art being sacrificed for commercialization.

Thank you so much for this message, anon! This needs to be talked about more, because I don't think a lot of commentators truly understand the vulgar, late-capitalistic sheen that seems to set in and slowly poison any ASOIAF adaptation. It honestly baffles me how quick some members of this fandom are to rush to the defense of, what is essentially (let's not be kidding ourselves here), a cashgrab by a giant corporation to the detriment of the actual artist and the actual creative foundation behind it.

Why else would "MAX" (if that is even their name) make another (or several other) ASOIAF adaptations? Not to stay true to any philosophical aesthetic vision, as it has become more than apparent with Season 2, but to increase shareholder profits by appealing to the lowest common denominator. Even the basic premise has been shifted in order to address popular trends and satisfy the mindless consumer that doesn't want to engage with anything deeper than their favourite tropes, prettily packaged:

from a story about a doomed ouroborous family superimposed on the pitfalls of feudalism, with villainy and heroism to be found on both sides, it has been simplified and reduced to a narrative that exalts white feminism and disqualifies anyone who opposes its girlboss protagonist. This is Sheryl Sandberg's version of Fire and Blood.

Truly, I think Sara Hess did (unintentionally) outline it the best: "civilians don't matter in Game of Thrones". They don't matter in Game of Thrones, but they matter in A Song of Ice and Fire. The entire heart of the series is contained in Septon Maribald's speech. The writers "kind of", must have forgotten, though.

[utilitycaster]

Hi! Because I genuinely do love your take on things and every time I read through them, a new perspective that I had never even considered before makes itself known to me. So, I wanted to ask! Since Twitter (unsurprisingly) already got its hands on this discussion:

What are your feelings on the Mighty Nein being the ones to handle the Weave Mind over Bells Hells? Because for me, I always sort of knew that BH were going to be the ones to defeat Ludinus no matter what. It’s what they’ve been building up for.

However, some people say the M9 aren’t deserving of handling the Weave Mind because that was an antagonist made specifically for the Bells Hells. So, I was interested in seeing your thoughts about this (strange) discussion.

Hi anon, thanks!

I think it's great to have the Nein go after the Weave Mind, and I think, like most takes from the Twitter CR fandom, this is fucking stupid.

Given that Matt is the DM, and he's like "hey, I'm going to have a Trusted NPC call in the Mighty Nein to deal with the Weave Mind" I think the argument that the Weave Mind was made specifically for Bells Hells is not, in fact, true. The Weave Mind is an antagonist who was introduced with Bells Hells' campaign, rather like how Ludinus Da'leth is an antagonist who was introduced with the Mighty Nein's campaign and who has been the nemesis of Beau and Caleb in particular, and yet Bells Hells will be going after him in this scenario (and, to be clear, I think this is fine; I've expected Bells Hells to face off against Ludinus in the end).

I would be interested in understanding if the motivation here is "I wish the Nein were going after Ludinus and Bells Hells were going after the Weave Mind" which I think is far less interesting given that Ludinus has been such a consistent enemy of Bells Hells as well but at least I can puzzle out a not terribly intelligent but consistent sort of logic in it; or if this is a "I wish the past two parties weren't involved in this campaign at all" argument in which case, far too late for that; or if this is someone who specifically doesn't like the Mighty Nein throwing yet another tiresome and embarrassing temper tantrum on Twitter. But my opinion doesn't change; I think it's far more satisfying to see Bells Hells take on Ludinus than the Weave Mind, whom half of them haven't even met.

More generally, the idea of "doesn't deserve to fight the Weave Mind" is stupid on another level. I understand why people talk about which actual play character they wish to get the final blow on a particular enemy, even though dice will ultimately decide this. When it lines up - Vax with Thordak, Yasha with Obann - it's immensely satisfying. But you do not need to be the most wronged person to make meaning of a How Do You Want To Do This (FCG and Otohan being an obvious case here). Technically, the Volition deserves to fight the Weave Mind more! Half of Bells Hells hasn't even encountered the Weave Mind in any capacity! Braius and Dorian haven't been to the moon! Sometimes, you're fighting because it's part of, for example, a three-pronged plan that needs three separate simultaneous strike forces. Bells Hells can't do all three at once despite having claims to each of the targets unless they split up. Would you rather the parties split up in a mix of each? Because I'm not opposed per se but that could get pretty confusing all around. And if we're going to step out of the Watsonian argument that in-world, they can't do all three at once, see my next paragraph to address the Doylist "but Matt didn't need to set it up this way" one.

I am on the record as loathing the whole "it's their table and you can't criticize it because it's their game" bullshit. You can do so. You can do so even if there are very good reasons for their choices. You're always entitled to your own opinion and as long as you're not harassing people, it is morally neutral to say "this piece of fiction/art/whatever didn't do it for me," end of sentence. With that said. It's fine if people wish Campaign 3, like Campaigns 1 and 2, were more exclusively focused on one party's adventures rather than the all-hands-on-deck story that it is. But it is that story, and pretending this wasn't the result of a number of intentional choices by Matt and the cast and various collaborators is profoundly stupid at this point. I had my complaints as well, early on, but the time to get over this was episode 1, when Orym and Fearne and Dorian and Bertrand showed up with their ties to EXU and C1. Or it was episode 6, when Laudna revealed her connection to Delilah. Or episode 35, when that connection to Keyleth was leveraged. Or episode 50, when Beau and Caleb appeared; or Episode 51, when multiple past PCs were present at the solstice; or Episode 66, when we further met with Keyleth; or Episode 86, when Sending came back on and both Caleb and Jester spoke to the party; or Episode 92, when we cut back to the Crown Keepers; or Episode 94, when Essek showed up; or Episode 99, when Downfall began. If you're still holding on hope now in the endgame, I think it's too late. That's not the campaign this is, and it never was, and you can wish that you had something more self-contained like Campaign 1 or 2 but with Bells Hells, but that's all it is - a wish, unfulfilled.

[boba-beom]

꩜˖*⋆｡˚ accident | OT5

⟢ non-idol!ot5 x reader

⟢ drabble; angst, some comfort

⟢ travelling several hours to what was meant to be a mini road trip with friends took a turn when you ended up in a car accident.

⟢ wc: 838

⟢ warnings: injuries, mentions of blood, slight arguing, cursing, reader comforting members.

⟢ a/n: ot5. the site of a car accident. angst. anon’s req for my event!

the ringing noise pained your ears, panting as a pair of hands hastily lured you out of the vehicle. harsh sirens from the distance didn’t help that pain, wincing as you could almost feel your head throbbing if someone were to lay their palm against your temples.

“yeonjun- where’s yeonjun?!” you panic, knowing that he was the one driving and the rest of you were either half asleep or silently scrolling through the social media abyss on your phones.

“he’s here.” beomgyu calls you over by waving his hand, sitting on the side of the road with the guy you were looking for, his hands cradling his head.

“fuck, yeonjun are you okay? are you hurt? what happened?”

you rushed over to him, letting go of taehyun’s hold on you as you failed to make your way to him. you’re limping; unaware that you also have a few cuts along your calf from where you were sat in the car. that’s where the other car had hit.

sitting beside yeonjun, you gently caress his arms, slouching while you cooed ‘it’ll be okay’s and ‘you’re alright’s.

“what happened?” soobin scoffs, spitting some blood on the ground, he can feel in his mouth after the collision. he was sat in the passenger's seat and was supposed to be talking to yeonjun to make sure he didn't get too tired, but who knows why he didn't because you were asleep. “what happened was that this asshole didn’t slow down at the crossroads nor did he check the light. isn’t that right?”

soobin was standing behind where yeonjun was sat, nudging his back with his knee. yeonjun’s shoulder jolts forward, not saying a word but huffing while he was still facing the ground; glass shards spread around and in front of him and the damaged vehicle.

you ‘tsk’ at soobin, "bin, quit it." looking up to scowl at him but he looked past it and refused to leave it be.

“hyung-” hueningkai tugs on soobin’s sleeve, backing him off from the eldest.

“what, got nothing to say?” soobin spat, nudging yeonjun again.

but this time the latter swung his head around, stumbling slightly while getting up on his feet despite his injured shoulder and his hands scuffed with cuts and grazes. he slips out of your hands but you remain sitting on the cold concrete, too overwhelmed to move.

soobin laughs sarcastically, approaching the older male and about to push his shoulders if it wasn’t for taehyun pulling yeonjun away, and beomgyu and hueningkai attempting to calm soobin down, holding him back.

“I’m sorry.” yeonjun croaked, his voice was weak and his head hung low.

“yeah? well that bullshit of a sorry isn’t going to help if one of us were severely injured. you’re lucky we’re somewhat okay.”

"soobin, honestly, stop it. it's over now, so quit shouting at jjun." you speak up, raising your voice from the curb of the pavement.

soobin’s chest starts heaving, filled with rage as he shoves the two younger ones off of his arms. he turns around and walks away from the rest of you for the moment.

beomgyu told yeonjun to sit back down shaking his head in soobin’s direction while the ambulance made its way to the site.

“hyung, I’m sorry I fell asleep. I know no one was talking to you so that’s why-”

“no, it’s okay. it’s my fault, I should have stopped somewhere.” yeonjun sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose while his brows furrowed.

“jjun, tell me what happened.” your gentle voice was enough to have him break down at that moment. a contrast from soobin’s tone with him earlier.

as you wait for yeonjun to speak the cars on the other lanes continued to curve their way around yeonjun’s car and the other car involved in the accident.

“soobin was right. I didn’t slow down towards the crossroads, and it was quiet in the car I was dozing off until I heard the horn from the other car.” he takes a deep breath, exhaling before speaking again. “fuck, it could have been worse, all of your lives were put in danger because of me-”

“hey, no, jjun,” you shush him, enveloping your arms around his shaking shoulders. “it could have been, but we’re somewhat okay. and you know for next time, your life is just as important too.”

he buries his face in your shoulder while leaning your temples against each other. beomgyu’s hand bumps with yours occasionally while you both rub on yeonjun’s back to soothe him.

the sirens are now louder, the ambulance approaching the scene with a police car trailing behind.

“uhm, hyung, let’s go talk to them.” taehyun walks up behind the three of you, worry fills his eyes as he notices you comforting yeonjun. you nod your head at him gently to assure that you can handle it for now.

“c’mon jjun, it’ll be okay.” you reassure him again, tightening your hold on him before you helped him up to talk to the authorities.

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

taglist: @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman @choiwrld @yjusei @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @itaehynz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @yunkiwii @aprilisque @ja4hyvn @https-yeonjun @lovejoshua @seolis-world @jak-ey @beomnoullitheorem @my313 (send an ask to be part of the taglist! here's the spreadsheet for reference!)

[sgiandubh]

Good morning to you...as always, this person is very indignant and enraged.

https://www.tumblr.com/maximumwobblerbanditdonut/748583730081333248/the-unexpected-guests?source=share

Dear (returning) Mythomaniac Anon,

Sorry for the delay and see below why. Well, then: how was that, at their end of the rope, across the street?

I know, I am quoting BIF (that petty, nasty, condescending woman), their Main Intellectual Luminary (LOL for years), but see how easy it is to boomerang anything?

And I will even suit myself and quote her some more, lookie here:

I am not even sorry. Karma is a bitch, like that and it seems to have backfired badly on BIF's comadre, 'Max'. You see, I can immediately tell when people who have NO idea about what LAW really is, start talking about it. They will always be oh so damn literal and oh so damn mechanical in their 'reasonings'. I mean, if law were to be read as is, why would we even bother going to law school, right? Why not have AI sort it out, literally and mechanically, too (and boy does 'Max' sound like an android when she starts droning her maximum wobbling bullshit)? You see, in law, it's never enough to copy/paste something, because this is about people, money and interests, being those individual or collective. Timelines are important (and indispensable in any legal approach), but never enough: what makes the difference is always the particular context and the interpretation of facts - that is, by the way, called jurisprudence, when it becomes a legally binding precedent (not our modest case, here), in common law system countries (the UK, the US) or a complementary source of law, like in Roman/Civil law systems, such as the French and Romanian ones, which I know best. There is a technical distinction between those two concepts (legally binding precedent and complementary source of law) and I once passed a whole year written exam in Public French Law with honors, picking this exact topic, but I won't bother you with it, Anon. In a nutshell, tread carefully when you open that droning mouth and leave no stone unturned, if possible. Otherwise, you'd make a fool out of yourself, with bullshit like this:

There is no Midhope Distillery Company Ltd, you fool. There once was the Midhope Castle Distillery Ltd, as I have abundantly shown in not one, but two posts. It did not 'change its name' in 2023, it was dissolved by voluntary write-off (third time might be a charm, across the street, maybe the coin would drop?). And one more time, for you Mordor people in the back: there is no way to know who the shareholders of a given company are, based on the Company House records, nor the amount of their participation. This is confidential information, as shown also in the Planning Proposal - once more, I repost the screenshot:

' The Business Plan, submitted (...) under Private and Confidential cover, provides background information on the applicant'. Including, but not limited to, the existing investors/shareholders - it is essential to show the local authorities your business project is not a whim or a dream.

She also writes confidently stuff like:

That is simply not true. As I have also shown in my last post, Outlander is explicitly mentioned in both the first and the revised Planning Proposals, as a strong argument for the entire business project. It may serve to remember that one of the elements justifying it was to provide the 20k seasonal visitors of the Midhope Castle Grounds an opportunity to access the (vastly) improved interior of the castle, along with a whisky related experience/discovery activity, accommodation and high-end dining opportunity. Again, I repost the screenshot, because those people are mendacious by nature and it is perhaps the only way to show them some facts (not useless factoids):

That being said, we can speculate and deduct a simple correlation between a company actively looking for investors to support their now vastly revised, ten-year project and an actor-cum-entrepreneur who might be interested/already involved in that project. Unless he'd make a formal announcement himself, at some point in time, there is no way to confirm. 'Max' should perhaps learn to water down her confident tone, sometimes, especially when it is obvious she did not look at the documents herself, used only Google in the arrogant and foolish hope 'those tinhat shippers are stupid' and has 0 (zero) legal expertise.

This whole thing might be pending approval, but let's not forget the first Planning Statement was approved back in 2020 (which is a good starting point), that they have secured a business partnership with the owner of the land, Lord Hope (the 4th Marquess of Linlithgow) and that as far as I could read during those past two days, all the reports seem ok, at least up until this point in time. I see no reason why they wouldn't meet and talk about it: on which planet is that such a big deal and on which planet could that be construed as 'conflict of interest' (another one of 'Max's' arguments), given the organic link between OL and Midhope, since 2013?

I also have made a hasty mistake, in my previous post, when dealing with Ken Robertson's participation to the project. He continued to be involved, as my penned timeline shows, in both Hopetoun Estate Distillery Ltd and Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd, as a Director, continuously from May 2017 until their dissolution, in December 2022. Again, it's all on the timeline - see what I just did, here? LOL for a century and a half.

And for Marple's 'Sorry' clip, I have the perfect reply. Especially the chorus, of course - ignore the rest, it's about some Seventies playboy, quite an Alternate Universe from hers:

I will stop now, Anon. With the MPC Gala just round the corner, all the eyes will be on that one. This drama will probably draw to a fizzled denouement, as they always do, in this fandom. But I will follow that business project and report from time to time. I bet the farm we'll have news, rather sooner than later.

[notyouraryang0dd3ss]

taylor swift is elon musk for white women who love greige and instapoetry. same overblown ego, same vitriolic pettiness, same incompetence, same tendency to lie endlessly about their past and use the media to prop up those lies. oh and to fabricate their achievements - those chart numbers mean fuck all. it is insulting to even see her generic uninspired bloated album mentioned alongside those like cowboy carter. her legacy will never be anything but greed and ugly drama

this was like a sermon to me. you spoke to the masses (me and my friends) with this one (also griege is such a good word...adding this in my daily vocab now) but taylor swift really is rupi kaur for white girls.

i have nothing to say you genuinely captured her white woman bullshit anon. im in awe

+ “fabricate achievements” its absurd the amount of industry accolades taylor has for the quality of music she puts out. she’s not even the best white girl lyricist of her generation and isn’t even in the running for singer.

The constant comparison between her and Beyoncé/MJ is disrespectful to the contributions each artist has made to the music industry/academy. Beyoncé has made (4) critically acclaimed albums IN A ROW and INVENTED the concept of a “surprise drop” album AND the complete VISUAL album. MJ revolutionized the music video format to what it is today and is the first ever PERFORMER of music.(Don’t worry—I don’t like both artists as people nor do I listen to them. But you should know I used to be a Beyoncé fan up until her zionist moment last year so I know a lot about her)

Swifties constantly disrespect Black artists and achievements by comparing them to Taylor Swift who is no where in the orbit of talent that Beyoncé and MJ possess. Whitney Houston only has 1 AOTY but her legacy is unquantifiable. They constantly bring up numbers because it’s all Swift has.

When we talk about the Eras Tour 5 years from now—ACTUALLY, RIGHT NOW—Nobody is talking about Taylor’s stunning vocals or jaw dropping dance performance. They’re talking about how much she’s grossing. It’s always going to be about the money for her.

You’re right. Her legacy will really be nothing but greed and ugly drama, her lovers forever immortalized into her discography. She is really a miserable unremarkable person. And she knows it and she takes it out on everyone and everything. And white women see themselves in this and throw their money at her because they find camaraderie in her misery.

Anyways. Thank you so much for breaking down the genetic code of a white woman. I’m gonna cite it forever

[according2thelore]

LITERALLY that "dad I'm gay and stronger than you" post had me like ..! my friend and I have been screaming for A Week Straight about the concept of Actual Child Monarch boykingofhell!Sam manifesting his powers early on and just. he and Dean figuring this is probably just another one of those Things We Don't Tell Dad. like, Sam who always knows where the radar traps will be on the interstate, and Sam jedi-whammying the motel clerk into forgetting their overdue payments... John flipping his absolute shit when he finds out; Sam being like "you can't stop me" and John being like "... You're /twelve/, yes, I can" and Sam being like "uh. you're just a guy, dad. I have all of hell at my disposal. do your worst, I guess???" John figuring that if he can't exorcize the hell outta Sam, he can at least make sure Sam can't get out of hell; telling Dean that he really tried but that the demonic forces killed Sam before John could save him; smash cut to early-20s Dean in his first year of solo hunting encountering a crossroads case, where the vics freak out anytime they're alone with him because "can't [he] see that massive fucking hellhound trailing after [him]?!" and the crossroads demon who can't believe who they're looking at when he finally gets them cornered. crossroads demon who smokes out under exorcism, but not before telling Dean "your brother wants to see you"

...anon...holy shit anon...

you are so correct!!

i think that in this situation (growing up with (to his knowledge) a dead sam, and a dad that "let" him die) dean would be more than passively suicidal. he doesn't care about himself, he failed. sam is dead. dean gets reckless, but he just barely avoids dying more than once, just a hairsbreadth.

he drinks until he can't walk straight, gets in the car, and wakes up in the motel parking lot. he goes half-cocked into a werewolf hunt, and he's sure that there's a werewolf behind him about to take him out (and isn't going to stop it, not really), but when he finally gets his finger around the trigger and turns around, the werewolf's ten feet away looking blank and confused. he puts a nominal effort into stitching up a bullet hole, doesn't even bother digging the slug out, and passes out in a random motel. next morning, the bullet's on the nightstand, and the stitches are even and tight. it's not enough to be completely concerned--hell, dean's borderline black-out drunk at any given moment, can't remember the last time he was completely sober--but it's...weird.

animals suddenly hate his fucking guts. dean used to tease sammy about it, about the fact that animals seemed to love dean and hate sammy. they would cringe away from sam's touch, skitter out from under his feet. birds would land on the impala if dean was driving, deer would poke their heads out of the woods if he walked past. but now...dean can't remember the last time he even saw a dog.

they just...flee. even at witnesses' houses, dean sees food bowls and chew toys and hears nails clacking on wood upstairs, but they tuck tail and run as soon as he knocks on the door.

after that first case, that first crossroads case where they name the thing, a Hell Hound...dean thinks it's bullshit. he's heard of black dogs, but this is new. it's weird.

he names it hooch. he and sam had seen that movie at a drive-in one summer, and he figures he's kind of fighting crime, right? he jokingly orders an extra patty on his burger and leaves it out for his imaginary dog, and the next morning it's gone. on the next hunt, the vampire doesn't even come within fifteen feet of dean before something rips its leg off at the knee.

when he calls the demon, it keeps looking down at dean's feet warily, back and forth, like something is pacing between them, something low. the demon keeps giving vague non-answers, distracted, and dean slaps his thigh, calls, 'hooch. down, boy.' and the demon...stops.

then those words...your brother wants to see you your brother wants to see you yourbrotherwantstoseeyou YourBrotherWantsToSeeYou.

dean is apoplectic. he finds the colt, finds the gate, heads into hell without a second thought, muttering to hooch the whole way (you better fucking rip some demons up you lazy son of a bitch).

sam's eyes are yellow, all the way through. bright yellow. he's huge. grown. beautiful. it's everything dean never thought he'd get to see. he dreamed about sam being this old, about sam having hands that dwarf a machete handle, of shoulders that blot out the stars.

sam doesn't react at first, knows that dad sent dean on a solo hunt before it all went down, but doesn't know how much dean knew about it, about dad locking him down here. dean doesn't even question why he's on a throne, why demons flank him on either side, heads bowed, why no demons even tried to stop dean from getting here, why they flinched away from him like something would swoop out of the dark and steal them if they brushed his shoulders.

"sammy," dean says--begs, really--for the first time in years, sam's smile falters. his eyes are hazel again, and his bottom lip trembles, and dean begs, "come with me, come home. please."

maybe it works, and they leave, and dean pulls sam into a hug so vicious that they both cry. maybe sam works from afar, and they relearn each other. their first hunt is ripping john winchester's head from his shoulders and trading kisses in his blood.

or maybe it doesn't. maybe dean stays, because they won't be separated like this, not again. the world's got other hunters, and dean has sam, and the rest of it can go fuck itself.

and sam has the life he's always wanted: power. respect. love. dean. (those last two are the same, really). and a dog, that keeps stealing dean's shoes.

anyway anon...much to think about...i love this...and you, coincidentally, mwah.

you and your friend galaxy-brained this one i fear.

-lizzy

[sleepingdeath-slashers]

Ooh so could you do a Tiffany x gender neutral reader where at the scene when tiff had chucky in his cage, she mentions how she got over him and is now dating reader who Tiff just rabbles about them?

And please take your time on this I don’t wanna seem like one of the impatient readers so do your best!

she moved on ; t. valentine hcs

thank you for requesting, anon

reader is assumed as gender neutral

minors please do not interact with my content

she hadn’t thought about her ex in a long time — mourning him for more than long enough when he’d initially passed away before making a point of trying to move on

she’d had plenty of flings over the years — tiffany was incredibly attractive so there was no shortage of men and women ready to hop in bed with her — but nobody ever stayed for long

not until you, that is

you, who was able to make her laugh without any effort

you, who didn’t judge her for her past and helped her take the steps she needed to fully detach herself from chucky

you, who kept a photo of her in your wallet/purse and who would proudly introduce her as your girlfriend to anyone you met

you, who watched all her favourite films with her and who would get wrapped up in the plot without complaining about them being ‘unrealistic’ or ‘silly’

you, who loved her for her mind and her humour and not just her body

you

just you

and yet despite all of that she still couldn’t seem to get away from charles for long because here he was, miraculously not dead and a hell of a lot shorter and more plastic-looking than she remembered

she’d seen his death reported on in the paper

she’d been going to therapy to talk about their relationship and how she was dealing with his loss

she’d moved on and was happy with you — even looking at wedding venues (even if you hadn’t been together very long, but when you know you know)

she’d done everything right and still he’d managed to come back into her life like nothing had happened

it made her angry

it made her sick

so she trapped him in a baby cage and went out for a smoke, ranting with the front door of her trailer open as she made some very pointed gestures and remarks to her ex

how dare he do this to her! how fucking dare he!

who the fuck did he think he was?

why couldn’t he just let her live her life in peace?

couldn’t he see that she was finally — fucking finally — happy after all of the shit he’d put her through?

the sheer audacity had her tonguing the inside of her cheek and reaching for her lighter — she didn’t have enough cigarettes to deal with his shit right now

frankly there weren’t enough cigarettes in the world at all to help her deal with his bullshit, but that was besides the point

she takes a drag from her second cig and now she’s stopped pacing — leaning on the doorframe and facing him head on with more disappointment and sadness that outright animosity

and somehow that scares him more than when she was ranting and raving and screaming at him

she asks why he can’t just let her have one good thing — but it’s not really a question and he knows it and he doesn’t even get to contemplate answering and manipulating her before she continues

she talks about you, about how she’s finally happy for the first time in forever and of course he has to come in and turn it all to shit (she spits the last word like it burns her tongue and continues in a dreamier voice, the ghost of a smile worming its way onto her lips)

‘they’re real sweet, ya know?’ (he doesn’t and she knows it but she continues), ‘they make me happy. we have fun together’

he says that they did too, jumping at the opportunity to reel her back in, but she chokes out a laugh and kicks his baby gate, causing his plastic body to stumble back

she scoffs at him and reaffirms that ‘fun’ doesn’t just mean being an adrenaline junkie — but even then that you don’t put her down or discourage her from doing what she enjoys

you let her have real hobbies, not just ones that benefit you — you even watch cheesy chick flicks with her and, pray tell, when did he ever bother to do the same?

never, that’s when

chucky tries to reel her back in again, recalling the fun they used to have — but he’s already lost

he lost before he even turned up at her front door because tiffany valentine has moved on

she doesn’t just want kink sex and excitement — she dreams of domesticity and marriage and love

her days of blood shed and murder are (mostly) over and have been since she settled down

since she fell in love with you

you with your smiles and your gentle touches and your humour that makes her laugh so hard her cheeks and sides ache

you who reaches out first and who doesn’t leave her high and dry and wanting like charles did

you who she loves, really truly loves, and who she’d never even dream of leaving

so she grabs a bottle of wine and tells chucky to keep on talking — because he may not have a snowball’s chance in hell of winning her over, but by god is it cathartic to watch him beg

… maybe she’d even call you up and give him a live show of every single reason, position and sound why you’re a far sight better than he ever was

[torchstelechos]

just saw you saying you want to talk about The Characters (isat) what are some thoughts you got bip bap boppin around in the noggin about the Them

Ooooooooohhhh Anon,,,, Ooooooh, You have unlocked deep thoughts and long monologues.... have this piece of bullshit that I spat out in excitement

Isabeau: 

Ah yes, dear Isabeau, my most beloathed <3 (self recognition in other /derogatory). He’s one of the characters I’ve written the most meta for that's actually about his character in the game. I love him and hate him in equal measures but that's not what I want to talk about today! I want to discuss his morbid humor and fascination, I suppose. Also his rather interesting character type and how that's displayed in the game, specifically through his morbid thoughts and discussion choices. 

In the game we see plenty of times that Isabeau uses morbid word choices (killed them so that I could live friendquest quote) and brings up morbid discussion topics (what do we do if you die? What do we do if Bonnie dies?) that the others find disquieting. He also laughs at Siffrin’s time traveler joke, finds scary Siffrin attractive, and finds being paid attention too enough that they can harm you attractive. This brings me to my main point, which is that Isabeau is the cold scientist archetype character that tries to be the himbo fighter character. Of course we know that hes trying to hide himself behind the himbo character type, but the fact that he's analytic to a fault, morbid in almost every way, finds scary things attractive, and calls Changing killing his past self… this man is very much a scientist that was about to turn evil but decided friendship was the answer whose character was subverted into himbo fighter because those who are dumb are more liked than those who know things. It's interesting, and I think it’s one of the reasons I despise Isabeau POV fanfics. Most fanfics feel almost like his facade is him, and thats just not true and it bugs me so very much to read fanfics with his POV now. But! This isnt to say those fanfics aren’t well done! They are, I just find them lacking in canon Isabeau’s almost neutral analytical personality that was then filtered through therapy and self help books esque vibe. Fascinating character, hate him dearly for it though. 

Misc thoughts: 

I generally have a hard time nailing down everything I feel about him for a variety of reasons but I do want to say that I think he finds Siffrin’s big melt down appearance attractive after the whole thing blows over. I also think he doesn't have the best track record for what is okay to say or not? So he falls back on “I am dumb therefore I can say things that others find disturbing and frame it as something I just don't understand or misunderstood :)” which kind of backfires on him constantly because now no one really takes him seriously? I don’t know, I just find most smart characters have a hard time figuring out the social situation of certain things so they tend to either not care at all for tact or overthink everything and over compensate by not allowing themself to go for certain things. In this instance its him not being able to confess because he thinks he's bad for liking someone in a certain way and doesn't want to pressure them which backfires because he's otherwise a good communicator but failed hard with Siffrin. Speaking of, I don’t think hes ever gotten with anyone other than Siffrin. It took the world literally almost ending and a time looping induced trauma attack for him to confess he liked Siffrin, this man does NOT have game. So, lol, that kiss? Probably his first <3, RIP my man did not deserve that

Odile:

Strangely enough I don’t believe I have ever written a meta post for Odile? Or anything about her other than tags? So yeah, let's focus on her. She's a very honesty based character in a game literally about someone not being able to speak the truth, which is why I appreciate the sus route so much. She noticed something was wrong and went for it, leading her down rabbit holes best left untouched. Odile is a character that I truly think would have accidentally unleashed an eldritch horror on the quest if not for Isabeau stopping her. Mainly because she is smart but not academic smart, she's learned from her travels plenty of things that lend to real life experience but she's not much of an academic when it comes to how to get answers she wants (taking until the very last town to get a familytale while Siffrin took maybe three loops to do is. Certainly something!). Its fascinating, because if I were to actually describe her personality and how that lends to a character archetype I would say that she's a brawler character. Effectively, she and Isabeau are reflections of each other in a very specific way and I think about this often in her relation to the group. Its almost laughable how shes been put into this responsibility role of the group while Isabeau is off goofing around (and secretly plotting how to best respect his friends remains), shes not very good at knowing what is the best course of action and acts out in impulsive ways that harms others (Looking at you, hitting Trauma Big Siffrin moment) and that doesn’t… make her a good leader per say? I just find it funny, how others write her as someone who would go out of her way to research Siffrin’s home country and succeed when she barely succeeded in her own knowledge hunt. If anything, it would be Isabeau who would find the information and inform Odile rather than the other way round. I dunno, I just don’t think anyone is really considering the fact that she probably hasn’t set foot into a higher academic institution just based on her research skills. 

Misc thoughts: 

I’ve only seen one fanfic acknowledge the fact that Odile hit Siffrin? And did so in such a way that it hurt badly. I wouldn’t be surprised if it left a scar (which that little freak probably adores because he knows that it means he wont forget Odile ever again), alongside the others they gave themself. Speaking of said hurting, I don’t think it's really acknowledged how much Odile puts down Siffrin? Yes it's usually just a teasing moment here or there, but have yall thought of the fact that she compared Siffrin to an animal and has hit him? I think about this so much. I think about it when I'm trying to fall asleep sometimes. She did that to him, and he *remembers it,* he acknowledges it during act 5, he has that ingrained into his *soul.* I think people should write about it more, or at least acknowledge that Siffrin probably… doesn’t want to talk to Odile about feelings or be touched by her for a while? Honestly, if I was Siffrin’s position during the failed friendquest moments? I would have said worse. I would have done worse. Because can you imagine? Imagine with me, you just remembered that your country is gone, everyone you love either doesnt remember you or is dead, the only person who could possibly tell you anything is the man you must kill, and your family member is talking about how hard it is to be in the country her mother is from and not feel a connection to it. That you are both more than your heritage. I would start biting, kicking, fighting, hell I would probably find out what she looks like without her bun! I would be pissed. But yaknow, Siffrin is a nice fella and kind of only waited to go off the deep end when they were sure they wouldn’t be able to escape. Anyway, I think of Odile sometimes and get violently ill by the knowledge she no longer holds that would explain some of Siffrin’s reactions and word choices to her cause no matter what? She can’t take it back. She never even said it. It’s not even real anymore. God I love this game, it makes me feel sick.

Mirabelle: 

Big ol’ sigh, yeah the-bitter-ocean if your out there I think about your tags on my Mira post a lot. The fandom doesn’t really get her do they? Most of the time I see people write her off as not very understanding or oblivious to other people’s feelings, which fair for romance (she didnt notice the very glowing sign of what I believe to be a ginger blushing but yaknow I understand as aro) but shes very good at knowing when someone isn’t feeling well? She has several unique dialogue options after Siffrin gets up from the field after looping which Odile does not have (despite EVERYONE ACKNOWLEDGING THEY’RE NOT OKAY), and asks after their wellbeing despite being in a constant anxiety attack and morality stress issues induced panic attack in the house. The only real big character flaw is a very typical shonen main character flaw which is that she is too trusting to a degree that it let Siffrin get away with almost destroying the world, Bonnie dying, and the others stepping all over her own feelings (not that any of these are her fault, but she did contribute to the lack of communication which lead to the loops. I love her, I do, but EVERYONE had a hand in Siffrin getting stuck in the loops). Her trust is also what led to the big fallout and slap she gives Siffrin during act 5, she was already giving her heart to him and the others and was constantly checking in during the adventure to make sure everyone was happy and okay with what was happening so the sudden switch from her POV is a huge betrayal of her trust in them. This is basically someone you were already on edge about hating you suddenly deciding that yes, they do hate you and everything you stand for because *they know.* No matter what you think about the situation, Mirabelle’s trust (her biggest character flaw) was thrown back into her face after she thought they were okay with her (not even a few weeks ago they said that this was the happiest they have ever been and she *remembers this fully and utterly*) and broke her heart with all her insecurities. It’s a very hopeless situation when you don’t have context, which means I don’t really blame her for slapping Siffrin, I just wish that it didn’t happen because as a Player I know the full context. Betrayal of trust… its a funny thing in this game, because it wasn’t a betrayal specifically from one POV but from the other it was. Fascinating! I despise it, I love it, it makes me sick. 

Misc Thoughts: 

Oooooh Mira we are in it now, This endgame of yours has left you with insecurities and trauma you didn’t think possible. I love her, I do, which is why I also have a great idea for a fanfic that involves her getting some VERY bad coping mechanisms <3 teehee. Careful what you wish for darling! Things go bad if you don’t take care of what you love. Anyway, I don’t think it’s weird to have Mira in outfits that are contrasting too heavily from her personality in the game? I dont know how to say this, but I think it’s a tad strange that I’ve seen roleswap aus/personality swap aus where Mirabelle is different via aesthetic? Because thats her whole religion? Sure she doesnt want to change but I don’t think she minds much clothing or aesthetic wise? In fact i think she considers that the safest option? So I dunno, I think people should dress her in goth and emo outfits more. Also I do think its a tad silly people don’t focus too much on her journey trauma and rather focus on her romance trauma, yall know that was just a distraction and not her main issues, right? Like yall know this game isnt romance the simulator, right???? RIGHT???? God Mira, you would hate that the fandom boils you down to your AceAroness, I just fucking know it. 

Bonnie: 

Who let this sassy small child into this story???? God, dearest Bonnie, the literal best party member Imo. I love them dearly, they are one of the meanest fucking assholes in the game I adore them. Yall think about the longstanding issues Siffrin has with touch and reaching out and how the rotten adults route fucking annihilates them into smithereens lol. I think about the fact that Bonnie has harmed Siffrin soooo much in the loops, it leaves me breathless because this small child has killed Siffrin twice, slapped their hands away when they tried to help them (for the first time in Bonnies POV!! Thats huge!!), and yelled at them multiple times about how awful they are. I do wonder what would have happened if the rotten adults route continued without looping? Who would have spoken up and who would have had to realize that something is WRONG with Siffrin in that moment? Would Bonnie backpedal when they realize? What was Siffrin’s facial expression right then? What happened? I just. God. Fuck. No one talks about this AT ALL in the fandom and it drives me insane. Despite everything, despite what was erased, what was unmade, the effects stayed and will continue to harm Siffrin. Do yall think about the idea that Siffrin probably doesnt reach out until Bonnie does post loops? I think about this so much, Bonnie has harmed Siffrin so many times it would kill them if they ever found out, and I desperately need them to find out. I also kind of,, just assumed that Bonnie would be keeping a keen eye on Siffrin’s eating and remind them to eat and drink water (even if I dont think Siffrin needs that) after the loops because its an easy way to help and have some control over situations? I dunno, I think Bonnie is a very complicated kid who has harmed and been harmed and no one will ever know just how much has been done and undone. 

Misc Thoughts: 

I still think Bonnie should be able to make and throw bombs post bomb memory. I just NEED Bonnie to throw a molotov at the King, fuck, it would be so funny. Also as a side note, I do think growing up Bonnie has to deal with a lot of untreated Trauma and probably reacts very similar to Siffrin before someone comments on the fact that they are just like him and suddenly they start going to a therapist about it, I do not think they would take it as a compliment for even one instance. They would get sick so fast and go, me and them? Similar? No. I have to go to get a doctor. I cannot be a Frin Jr. the world could not handle it. And suddenly they have the second best mental health of the group (first goes to Isabeau because Isabeau was already in therapy before the game, I just fucking know it <3) which makes everyone fucking jealous as hell because seriously? The Kid??? Damnit. But yeah I do think the fastest way anyone could get Bonnie to accept help is to compare them to Siffrin because they do have a Recognition of Self in the Other (derogatory) thing going on with Siffrin in the game, which is probably worse by the fact that they grew up with him as a role model. Everyone that knows them is like, oh my change your so lucky! The saviors are your family that must be so cool <3, and Bonnie is like. They make me to go to bed on time and force me to eat veggies what the fuck are you saying. Anyway yeah I love Bonnie so much, the meanest fucking kid in the game <3. 

Siffrin: 

Aaauuuggghhhhh, the one everyone is waiting for, the Siff of the Frin. Love this fucking idiot, but yeah lets talk touch and how the family has hurt them over the loops <3. Okay so straight out the gate, Bad touch! Isabeau pushing them away after they kiss him, which is very understandable because yaknow Isabeau could tell that was a desperation kiss and is not okay for either of them but! Holy shit! Siffrin, my dear friend that was probably the worst thing you could have done, but yeah that did leave its marks deeply in them so I will mark that down as harmed. Then we get the bad friendquests, which yeah Isabeau hitting them with the “I thought you were also trying” hurts more than I can physically say, but we’ll mark that down as two. Then Odile hits them, grabs their collar, sus quest bullshit, and general disdain for Siffrin lying about the stars we’ll mark down as four more which leads to six. Mirabelle slapping Siffrin and letting him get away with lying about his health we’ll put at 8. Bonnie pushing him into a tear, pineapple, slapping hands away, and yelling at them multiple times we’ll put at 12. Then there's the “like taming a wild animal” teasing which Ill put at 13, all of which is just off the top of my brain and I know there's more moments that hurt Siffrin deeply. Yaknow, looking at this, typing this, it seems a tad silly but. How else could I describe the never ending pain at knowing that most of these wont be acknowledged as bad for Siffrin as it was bad for the others? I dunno, I think about Siffrin giving everything up for the party and no one knowing exactly what they did because how could they? It’s gone. It’s not real anymore, not until Siffrin says it. I just. I dont know where I’m going with this but Siffrin as a character hurts me deeply, and I think it’s because no matter what happens Siffrin refuses to acknowledge when the others hurt him back. Just. Keeping the cycle going because they dont know how to break it, and they never have until they break first. I just think of this a lot. Him being stuck, in circles over and over. 

Misc Thoughts: 

I wanna chew him up and spit him out like a dog toy. No further comments (see my blog for further comments). ((I need to see a Self inflicted Achromatic animatic, pls, fuck plsssss))

LOOP: 

Loop time!! Loop time! I am physically ill because of this beast. You all know that one fanart where it says “You Won!” and Loop is dry heaving? Thats me at literally any moment when I think about Loop. 

I am a little shy to admit though that I didn’t catch their facade at first, mainly because I’m not very good at catching things like that at first? If a person acts a certain way, thats how they act! So Yeah, ya boy was confused by two hats lol. But afterwards I did do a bit of thinking and as I mentioned in a previous post i do think Loop is pretending/acting like how they remembered Siffrin acted like before the loops. Mira mentions that Siffrin is mean in teasing, enough so that it might have hurt if she didnt know that it was friendly teasing. Isabeau has a great monologue about his feelings on Siffrin before the loops, and Siffrin themself acknowledges some of their less than savory traits before the loops during the loops as well. This is to say, Loop is a fucking prick that tries to be floating and teasing in their comments while hitting where it hurts in just the right way that they can pretend that they mean something else. I genuinely think thats how Loop remembers themself before they were Loop, even if they got some things VERY WRONG. Of course, by the time they realize this it’s too late and that’s their personality now, which is kind of fucked up when you realize how much of their personality is them acting out a half remembered person who died many many many loops ago. But alas, such is the way of Loop. 

Also if we think about Loop in comparison to Siffrin. Well. We get an interesting picture. But the thought makes me too ill to continue. But I will say loving someone so much you destroy yourself for them… I don't think anyone in the family would be happy about that really. Theres a difference between destroying yourself and destroying the world… I wonder why that is for them, what made the difference between self and the world. A fool, and the world. Hmm. Interesting. Anyway, Loop’s facade gets me everytime and I want to use them as a stuffed animal. 

Misc Thoughts: 

Yeah that STAR CAN NOT EAT OR DRINK, lol get rekted they cant even fucking get drunk. Now for some HCs, I do think that Loop would wear a promise ring, even if no one in this Vaugarde understands what that means. I just. Think that Loop wouldn’t be able to let go of Their Fighter. Hahaha! I don’t really wanna go further into detail about this rn but I AM THINKING… Loop is one of the saddest characters I have ever fucking had the audacity to love. No I will not take comments on this further lol. (Me loving Loop and Siffrin while disliking Isabeau? Call me an Isabeau Kinnie at the rate lol)

[kit-williams]

Insanity seems to follow...

thank you @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for letting me use Karlsor

@egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts

@ms--lobotomy @nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog

Karlsor was still fucking pissed that he was stuck being the face for this shitty ass base learning shitty ass rules?! That everything made no fucking sense and that the humans here looked weird... its when some son of Magnus had finally filled him in on what was going on with what he was seeing. So maybe the bonds weren't totally bullshit... just mostly bullshit. Though... some of them looked odd... the bonds on the twisted fuckers looked different... far too organic looking verses the fabric looking that the warp here seemed to have.

This was so much bullshit! And then he heard there was a base full of Night Lords so why the fuck was he stuck here?!

"Can you stop stomping around? Some of us are trying to nap." A voice in Nostroman swears at him from some perch in the darkness to which Karlsor could easily the black haired and pale skinned individual.

"Fuck you!" Karlsor hisses and he sees the black eye open up at him.

"Fuck you too." Ghosk snarls, "Why the fuck are you here?"

"Where else would I fucking be?!"

"At base?"

"I AM AT BASE!"

Ghosk barks out a laugh, "They didn't tell you that there's a night lord base?"

"FUCKING ULTRAMARINES AND THEIR BULLSHIT!" Karlsor swore and he knew they were trying to keep him around.

"Though... I wouldn't go right now. Bit of a mess."

"Why?"

Ghosk leaned an arm down looking like a large cat as he lounged, "Politics. No one is from the first claw... so currently its a dick swinging contest as to who gets to be 'chapter master' or 'legion master'."

"So why the fuck are you here?"

"Because I spoke the truth like Jesus Christ." He continued before Karlsor could ask what the fuck he was talking about, "I said it was going to be one the the Terran born Night Lords that is probably going to be in charge. Either Loyalist or Traitor because they actually aren't fucking retarded like the rest of us from Nostromo. So I'm here until they pick someone."

"Cool... who the fuck are you." Karlsor says.

"Ghosk. Ghosk Sevyrarek. Raptor. So who the fuck are you?" Ghosk replies.

"Karlsor. Librarian."

"When are you from?" Ghosk croons looking down at him. Karlsor debates on even telling him given how he's currently in the "chaos" wing of the base. Ghosk huffs, "I'm from M41."

"M31" Karlsor finally relents, "We were attacking McCragge."

"Oh... OH SHIT I was there! Hey I was a scout at that time if you go back can you pass something along to my past self."

"Fuck off." Karlsor says before there was suddenly a blur and he felt weight on his chest as he felt cold. Ghosk's eyes were old as the unarmored Night Lord was perched above him as his fucking wings seemed hide them from you.

"LISTEN I have been alive for ten thousand fucking years since our Primarch died. Since all that shit went down and everything went tits up. I have seen shit so much WORSE. Now if we do go back you're going to either kill me or tell me to join the loyalists." Ghosk says with his eyes darting around calming down.

Karlsor grumbles but accepts the hand from the shorter night lord. There was a pause between them, "But yeah plenty of Night Lords at base would want your opinion since this is a big deal. Blah Blah Blah. You know claw politics. Anyway I guess have fun being stuck here!" Ghosk says with a snicker before walking off with his wings neatly folded up against his back.

Karlsor just groaned as shit was getting stupider with what insane bullshit he was having to learn to accept was just normal here. "Fuck me..." He says wandering off.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

i find it interesting that killer will learn and adopt certain traits from his 'owners', molding himself in their images so one day he can usurp them. killer learned to treat everything like a game, because that's what chara taught him. in the end, he defeated chara and won the game. he learned to be silver-tongued and manipulative, because that's what nightmare taught him. in the end, he went behind nightmare's back and escaped from him. i wonder if his relationship with color would go similarly, if killer is self-aware about it. the thing is, what color teaches him is kindness, and ideally killer should learn how to be more honest and embracing of his feelings and wants, right? maybe it's the looming spectre of the fall of the relationship that makes killer hesitant to fully take what color sincerely offers to teach him. he's self-sabotaging because he doesn't want to 'win' yet, even though he doesn't know what that means.

i think killer is wary of cross the same way that he is wary of stage 4. in his mind, cross is a vestige of nightmare, just like stage 4 is a vestige of chara. if only someone can correct this thinking for him (poor therapist).

i'd like to think that color's therapy is going well. he's getting better at learning how to establish boundaries. i guess there's lots of things to talk about too, things about his past, his guilt complex maybe. maybe nightmare comes to learn about what happened and taunts color with not being to handle killer and his problems. but i'd like to believe that color knows how to detect bullshit from nightmare.

also i just think the most disturbing thing for color is to be compared to nightmare in killer's eyes lmaooo that would not go over well.

~ 🐦‍⬛🚢 anon

bruh what if during one of the uh..”aftercare” sessions st1 whimpers out for nightmare to stop playing with him. that hes tired of this game, just tell him what he did already. and before color can get any more answers or try to correct him he’s already fainting and now color has a different problem on his hands.

and in the grand scheme of things that small one time moment is almost forgotten up until st2 starts casually calling color “boss.”

and I think a lot of reasons for killer’s behavior is 1. the fear of the fall out or losing color, and 2. falling back on to what is familiar, in preparation for the worst.

perhaps something happened during his time with nightmare, but before choosing to leave, that effected killer—even as he trusted color in that moment. perhaps something nightmare said would happen happens, and its so small and “not that big of a deal,” to anyone but killer—but it happened. it happened and so what if nightmare was right about this.

from there his mind starts misinterpreting things, looking for and seeing patterns and applying his own reasoning for it. and he reached a conclusion of a message no one was intending to send. or he misread the message. his brain starts seeing patterns that happened before—from chara to nightmare—and this time this is something he chose.

he doesnt wanna hurt color and he also doesnt wanna leave. so maybe he thinks this is the only option left. submit to color if he wants him to stay, stay without hurting or killing him. maybe he thinks if he wins itll somehow lead to something even worse, or turn out to be all yet another big game, a funny trick.

and color definitely calls nightmare out on his bullshit. it’s basically a hobby to verbally abuse that goopy stinky fossil. but that doesnt mean nightmare aint playing any mind games, perhaps trying to draw the connections between himself and color now just to fuck with him. trying to convince color that, just like him, just like killer, he enjoyed the power he had. the devotion.

its not true, but nightmares sure gonna try his hardest to convince color it is.