#its wild like ??? ? ?? is this really that good???

[cheer-nympho]

Steve had been conned into chaperoning the kids to a ren faire.

Admittedly with very little resistance, but he was keeping that to himself. Once there and with their bags packed away into some apparently theme appropriate tents he had shrugged on some medieval casual clothes and…immediately lost track of all of them,

But a figure he did spot was a long haired Jester entertaining a small entourage with juggling,

Steve finds himself laughing slightly condescendingly at the jingling man. Why do people find juggling so impressive?

He picked it up straight away with some hackey sacks while bored between practices. He’s just good with his hands.

When he looks back up to get another glance in however, the jester isn’t perched on top of his little rock anymore and the crowd has merged with the other dweebs.

Steve stares at the empty space for a moment before a jingle right by his ear spooks him into turning around.

“Art thou not impressed by my amazing skills, your lordship?” The jester asks, swaying on his feet and causing the bells all over him to ping, grin wide and mocking.

And up close Steve notices one very important, very dangerous thing.

This court jester is really fucking hot.

He looks like an idiot, a nerd, a dweeb. Its hard not to in a pointy hat. But he also wore it too well, looked too perfect like that.

Steve notices the…is that..? Yes, the corset wrapping tightly around the mans waist, red and black diamonds decorating the sides and leading to small puffy shorts. His legs are covered in tight black leggings which should look ridiculous. It should.

An obnoxious cough and head tilt-jingle make Steve aware that he has been staring at the mans waist for way longer than was ‘bro code permitted’

He looks up with a wince, expecting a look of disgust ranging from mild embarrassment to punch-your-lights-out.

He was, instead, greeted by a smug and knowing smile. The red and black triangles painted over the mans eyes warped where the grin reached them. “Or maybe thou art impressed, but skills are not what draw thine eyes.”

Shit. Fuck. The stupid hot nerd is using stupid nerd speak on him. And Steves stupid nerd, apparently ‘very accurate’ pants are getting tighter. He needs to say something. Anything.

“You’ve got…bells.” Okay, maybe not anything. He used to be better at this shit.

He is rewarded with a wild, joyous laugh as the jester throws his head from side to side. “I do! Isn’t it amazing?The staff insisted on it so they could hear me coming.”

“It certainly makes an impression-“

“Eddie, names Eddie. And what does my lordship go by?”

“Steve is fine.”

“That he is…” The comment was punctuated by a less than subtle glance, almost a leer. “However, Fine Steve seems unimpressed with my merrymaking. As the official court jester, I cannot let that stand.” He stamps his foot, causing another cacophony of jingles.” “Therefore…”

“…Pick a card any card!” A pack of standard cards was presented to him with a flourish, but all he could do was roll his eyes.

“Come on, really? This shit is basic. All I have to do it watch your hands. You’ll swipe my card out and put it back in later, or mark it somehow.”

“Ooo his highness has it all figured out doesn’t he. Well then, princess, you have nothing to lose by picking a card, do you?” And that was…true. Plus he could maybe try to fix his previous fumble and try to claw a number out of this disaster.

So with another bitchy roll of his eyes, Steve plucks a card from the deck and hides it behind his palm. Two of Hearts.

Then out of nowhere… “You know, Stevie, if you think I’m pretty you can just tell me. I know the kingdom would approve not of a noble like yourself marrying a commoner like me, but they need know little of how we…” He begins to reshuffle the cards, motioning for Steve to place his chosen one back in before making some very obvious, very crude movements with his fingers. “…get to know each other in the meantime.”

He was going to die. In the middle of a nerd fest.

“Well, my lord…” Eddie continues, circling him while dragging a finger across his arms and shoulder blades before coming to a stop in front of him. A very bold hand takes Steves jaw and forces his head up, pretending to inspect something on his costume for any bystanders.

“If you would like some more…close up demonstrations…” He leans in tightly, still holding Steve’s jaw in a tight grip. “You can pay me a visit in staff cabin 23 tonight.” He strokes a piece of hair gently behind Steve’s ear before pulling out a card, as if from said ear.

Steve was glad that Eddie took the initiative to carefully pull his hand up and place the card into his palm, because currently Steve was too preoccupied with staring like a fish out of water into Eddies eyes. Everything about him was just so captivating, so alive.

Maybe that’s why he did little more than step forward aimlessly, with small grabby hands when Eddie pulled away. Before Steve could even process it, the bells and jingles had mingled back into the crowd. But that was…that was okay. Cause he could go to the…cabin?

But how was he supposed to- Oh. He looks down. On the card was a loosely clipped room key with a ‘23’ crudely engraved into the edge as if by a pocket knife.

The card itself, to his horror, was the Two of Hearts.

Shit.

He forgot to watch the fucking hands.

[whumpster-fire]

Oh boy okay I think my smallest / least known fave is Ambersun (formerly known as Albion, changed because of how many other bands have the same name), and I am begging everyone to listen to this band because seriously it is so good.

Summary: it's a power metal band which I think may be basically a one man show plus various guest vocalists I'm not sure, which does story-based concept albums based on different works of fiction. Possibly qualifies as Rock Operas? Anyway I love "fandom music" and this is one of my all time favorites even though two of the albums are for "I don't even go here" fandoms and the other is for a book I found through the music, because the sound is awesome, the lyrics are awesome, and you can just hear the passion put into them.

I'm now going to post a bunch of lyrics under the cut please please please listen to these songs. Actually just listen to the albums in order, this is one of those bands where the songs are already good as standalones but you really need to listen to the full album to get the full experience.

We are lost, in an endless night, the sun drained from our eyes

Gone, when we sold our lives to the plague that stole the sky

"Life Before Death," from The Poison Skies

Erased and they don't care, but you would still be here if only you'd stayed, been mine only mine

It's so unfair to leave me, the tribe I formed deceived me, but now I'll fight in your name

There's no way to hide from their stare,

I still feel their eyes everywhere

And the hatred that clouds all their minds, it hides the truth of it all

"Out In the Wilds" from The Poison Skies

The one to keep the noble name, to carry all their hopes and dreams, a future severed when one night became forever

"Run" from The Poison Skies. This. Freaking. Song. Has changed me. "Run" is a banger on its own, but reading The Afflicted and reaching the scene this song is about made it so much better and also slightly painful. Which can be said about the entirety of The Poison Skies but this song especially, because the entire song is a character high on adrenaline, deluding himself into believing he can actually pull off the promise he made to his friends that he was going to survive the badass self-sacrificing stunt he was pulling. Also I have no idea how I have not gotten a speeding ticket while playing this in the car yet.

Visions that I can't erase, every time I see her face,

She reminds me of how I never tried

Now I watch us as we fall, can't help anyone at all,

Why did I alone survive?

Survivor's Guilt!

"Survivor's Guilt" from The Poison Skies

This worthless weapon symbolizes who I am

Remaining silent, offer no resistance,

And I become the iron mask

"Disappear" from The Poison Skies

Survive one last dance through the wind and the cold,

We can't change our stories, but they still can be told

"Snow" from The Poison Skies

Sealed in cryogenic cold, I'll dive into the dark, reanimate your soul

Together we will rise up hand in hand this blackened night

"Morning" from The Day the Night Slept

I'll burn in the night, I'll light up the sky, you'll see,

And I'll be the Scorpion's Fire!

"The Scorpion's Fire" from The Day the Night Slept

Lost in the night, but still he survives

I'll tear apart time so his heart never dies

"Asriel Must Be Saved" from Buried Souls. Yes this is exactly what it sounds like from the title. A 15 minute musical fix fic about finding a way of saving Asriel Dreemur from Undertale with some sort of timeline fuckery I don't understand because I haven't played the game. And it's glorious.

Mighty wheels will turn again, flames of faith ignite

Chase the legend of the sun, and bathe our world in light

"Bring Back the Sun," currently a single release.

enough about taylor swift already. reblog and tag the smallest, least known artist you listen to

[p0orbaby]

I’d Rather Go Blind Than Let You Down

summary: the baby is here, that should calm leah down, right? right?

warnings: hospital setting

a/n: someone asked for some more panicky leah so here it is. first part here but you don’t need to read it if you don’t want to

word count: 1.3k

-

It’s a boy. A boy. Your boy. You can hardly wrap your head around it, the reality of him. He’s only been in the world for forty minutes, and already it feels like he’s upended every law of physics. Six pounds and change, but impossibly heavy in the way he roots you to the earth, demanding you stay present, stay still, stay here. His hair is a downy mess of dark brown fluff, sticking up in little uneven tufts that remind you of how Leah’s fringe used to look after her under-12s matches: matted and wild, all effort and energy. His hands—God, his hands—are the size of fifty-pence pieces, delicate and wrinkled, each finger curled tightly into its own little fist. He’s perfect. Absolutely, inexplicably perfect. And you’re completely terrified.

The hospital room smells like cheap soap and distant disinfectant, undercut by the faint, sticky sweetness of some long-spilled juice no one bothered to properly clean. It’s a symphony of beige: beige walls, beige curtains, beige linoleum. Even the bed looks beige, although it’s probably just worn white, like an old t-shirt washed too many times. Somewhere in the hallway, someone’s shoes squeak with rhythmic persistence, and you vaguely wonder if they’re pacing, as you had earlier, wearing an accidental track into the polished floor.

Leah is sitting in the uncomfortable armchair by the bed, which is upholstered in that scratchy material designed to withstand decades of spills and bad decisions. Her elbows rest on her knees, her fingers steepled against her lips in a half-prayer, half-facepalm, as if she’s mid-negotiation with some higher power. She hasn’t spoken much since the baby was born. Not because she doesn’t want to, you think, but because the enormity of it all has rendered her mute. She looks pale, unsteady, as if someone has shaken her up like a bottle of fizzy water and forgotten to twist the cap back on properly.

The baby makes a soft, snuffling noise against your chest, pulling her attention like a magnet. Her gaze darts to him and then flicks away just as quickly, as if looking directly at him for too long might somehow blind her. She hasn’t held him yet. She hasn’t even really touched him, save for one trembling fingertip brushed against his impossibly tiny foot when the midwife first handed him to you. It wasn’t avoidance, not exactly. More like reverence. Or fear. Maybe both.

You’re exhausted in a way that doesn’t feel real, like your body’s moving on autopilot while your brain drifts somewhere between sleep and shock. Your limbs are heavy, molten, but there’s also an odd lightness to you, a weightless, dizzying awe at what you’ve just done. You gave birth. You. You. Somehow, you survived it—hours of pain, pushing, panting, the raw animalistic chaos of it—and now you’re here, holding this impossibly small, impossibly fragile life in your arms. You’re not sure how you’re even still upright, let alone conscious.

“Do you want to hold him?” you ask, your voice soft, careful, as if you’re coaxing a wild animal out of the brush.

Leah’s head snaps up, her eyes wide and glassy, like a deer caught in headlights. “Hold him?” she echoes, her voice shaky and high-pitched. “Me?

“Yes, you. Who else?”

She blinks, her hands flexing and unflexing against her knees like they’re warming up for a solo on Britain’s Got Talent. “I… I don’t know if that’s a good idea”

“Leah, he’s your son”

“I know,” she says quickly, her voice climbing into that higher, defensive register that comes out when she’s trying to convince herself more than you. “I know he’s my son. But he’s just so… small. And… fragile. What if I—”

“You’re not going to drop him”

“I might!” she says, alarmed by her own hypothetical. “I might drop him. Or…or hold him wrong. What if I hold him wrong and, like, dislocate something? Babies are delicate! Like…like soufflés”

You blink at her. “Did you just compare our child to a soufflé?”

She shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know! I’m just saying, I’m not exactly… maternal, am I? I’m not one of those people who looks at a baby and just… knows what to do. I’m more of a… ‘panic and Google it’ kind of person”

“That’s fine,” you say, adjusting the baby slightly in your arms as he makes a soft, snuffling noise. “Most parents are ‘panic and Google it’ people. It’s basically the default”

Leah doesn’t look convinced. She’s rubbing her hands together now, the way she does before a big match, but this isn’t a match. There’s no referee, no whistle, no rules, no second leg if she screws this up. Her gaze darts back to the baby, then to you, then back to the baby, like she’s trying to memorise the mechanics of holding him without actually doing it.

“What if I’m terrible at this?” she blurts out suddenly, the words spilling out of her in a rush. “What if I’m a terrible mum and he grows up hating me and we end up one of those families where no one talks and we all just sit around at Christmas in complete silence, eating dry turkey and resenting each other?”

You stare at her. “That’s… a very specific fear”

She shrugs, her leg bouncing up and down anxiously. “I’ve seen it happen”

“Leah, you’re not going to be a terrible mum”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you. And you love him. That’s pretty much the most important part”

She frowns, her brow furrowed like she’s still not quite buying it. “Love’s not enough. Love doesn’t teach you how to… to… change nappies or… or know what all the different cries mean”

“Love doesn’t teach you that,” you agree, “but practice does. And you’ll get there. We both will”

Leah’s eyes flick back to the baby, who has now fallen into a soft, twitchy sleep against your chest. Her expression softens slightly, but the fear is still there, a tightness around her mouth, a tension in her shoulders.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” she asks quietly.

You laugh, soft and disbelieving. “He’s a newborn, Leah. His likes and dislikes are limited to ‘milk’ and ‘not-milk.’ He’s not going to sit there judging your personality”

She doesn’t laugh. If anything, she looks even more stricken, like she’s just realised she might have to win over this tiny person who doesn’t even have fully developed motor skills yet.

You sigh, reaching out to take her hand. “Leah, listen to me. You’re not going to drop him. You’re not going to dislocate anything. And you’re definitely not going to ruin Christmas twenty years from now. You’re going to be great. I promise”

She hesitates, her fingers curling slightly around yours. “What if I mess up?”

“You will,” you say simply. “We both will. That’s part of it. But messing up doesn’t mean failing. It just means you’re trying”

For a moment, she just looks at you, her eyes searching yours for something—reassurance, absolution, a manual for parenthood that doesn’t exist. Then, slowly, she nods. It’s not a confident nod, not by any stretch, but it’s a start.

“Okay,” she says quietly. “I’ll try.”

You smile, holding out the baby toward her. “Then take him”

She hesitates for one last second before leaning forward, her hands trembling slightly as she takes the baby from you. She holds him like he’s made of glass, her arms stiff and awkward, but she’s holding him. She’s doing it.

And then the baby lets out a tiny, contented sigh, and Leah freezes, staring down at him like she’s just witnessed a miracle.

“He…he’s so… little,” she whispers, her voice filled with something like awe. “And warm. Why’s he so warm?”

“Because he’s a baby, not a lizard”

Leah lets out a soft, breathless laugh, her eyes never leaving the baby’s face. For the first time all night, she looks calm. Not completely, but enough. Enough to believe, maybe just for a moment, that she can do this.

That you can do this. Together.

[xo100]

Hi there!! Could I ask Lando with a singer or a dancer reader?? They are already dating, but haven’t made it officially yet to the public. Lando surprises the reader by attending to the readers tour and fans are going feral about him being there, because it’s a “duo” they didn’t knew they needed. After the show he comes backstage to the reader and they make the relationship public with the pictures of them being backstage or something. Just really sweet and fluffy. Thank you❤️

A surprise in the spotlight - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 781

*:･ﾟ A/N: hey loves! I just wanted to let you know that I have another blog called @norrisxwrites on this blog I will reblog your reblogs. I’ll reblog my posts and other posts! Go check it out if you want posting there soon! Enjoy the fic!

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The stadium buzzed with the excitement only a sold-out concert could bring. The energy was palpable, like a living, breathing thing, as fans spilled into their seats with glowing bracelets and homemade signs. This was your tour, the biggest one yet, and it had been months of grueling rehearsals, endless interviews, and nights spent missing the man who’d somehow slipped into your life and turned it upside down.

That man, Lando Norris, Formula 1’s rising star and everyone’s favorite cheeky Brit, was supposed to be halfway across the world, prepping for the next Grand Prix. At least, that’s what he’d told you over FaceTime just two days ago.

But Lando had never been great at following the rules—especially when it came to staying away from you for too long.

-

It wasn’t until the third song of the set that whispers started spreading through the crowd. Something was happening near the back, a ripple of excitement weaving its way forward. The screens overhead briefly panned across the audience, and there he was, seated among the fans in a hoodie and cap pulled low but not low enough to fool anyone.

The stadium erupted.

“Is that Lando Norris?” someone screamed.

“He’s at her concert?” another gasped.

The internet moved faster than the speed of sound. Within moments, Twitter was ablaze with shaky screenshots and wild speculations.

-Are they dating?!- -This is the crossover I didn’t know I needed!- -Lando and Y/N??? MY HEART.-

Onstage, you were mid-chorus, but the sudden roar from the crowd was hard to ignore. Your eyes scanned the sea of people, your heart stuttering when you spotted him. Lando gave a small wave, his smile tugging at the edges of his mouth like he couldn’t quite contain it.

You fought the urge to break character, biting back a grin as you returned your focus to the performance. But your cheeks were warm, and the butterflies in your stomach were undeniable.

-

The show ended with an encore, the crowd’s energy lingering in the air as fans slowly filed out. You darted backstage, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, only to stop short when you saw him leaning casually against the wall near your dressing room.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Lando said, his voice warm and teasing.

You couldn’t help it—you threw yourself into his arms, the scent of his cologne instantly grounding you. He caught you effortlessly, his laughter soft against your hair as he held you close.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your words muffled against his chest.

“Surprising you,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Missed you too much. Figured it was time I crashed one of your shows.”

Your heart swelled. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Only for you.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your waist. “You were incredible out there. I mean, I knew you were good, but seeing you like this…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You’re amazing, Y/N.”

The sincerity in his voice left you momentarily speechless, your cheeks heating under his gaze. “You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Norris. Though I think you’ve caused a bit of a stir.”

Lando smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “Oh, I noticed. Your fans are relentless. Think I saw my name trending on Twitter halfway through the third song.”

“Serves you right,” you teased, but the warmth in your voice gave you away.

-

You didn’t plan to go public with your relationship that night, but when your manager walked in, phone in hand, and said, “We’ve got paparazzi swarming the back exit,” you knew it was inevitable.

Lando squeezed your hand, his touch steadying. “If you’re ready, I am.”

“You mean it?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

He kissed your forehead, and in that moment, everything else faded away. The chaos, the cameras, the noise—it all felt distant, insignificant compared to him.

The two of you walked out together, hand in hand, the backstage photographer snapping candid shots that would be on every gossip site by morning. You didn’t care.

Later, in the car, Lando scrolled through the early posts. He turned his phone to you, showing a picture of the two of you backstage, mid-laugh, your fingers laced together.

“‘The duo we didn’t know we needed,’” he read aloud, chuckling. “Not bad, huh?”

You leaned against his shoulder, your smile soft. “Not bad at all.”

And as the city lights blurred past the windows, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was only the beginning.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

*:･ﾟtags; @spookbusters-jr

[elen-tari2]

No one writes better. No one. My personal favorite is The Folk of the Air. My dad read it to me in 8th grade and I fell in love with it. I also really love Tamsin -a moody teen, a cat, a ghost, and the wild hunt— and the short stories collected in The Rhinoceros Who Quoted Nietzsche (more unicorn themes) . A Fine and Private Place is beautiful and poetically sad. It’s hard to believe he published it when he was only like 18.

My dream is to write similes half as good as he does. His are such perfection…. And I could faint reading his beautiful descriptions. The unicorn’s horn shone with its own seashell light. SEASHELL light?? Hello? You can totally picture just the exact shade of ethereal light glowing from the horn, can’t you? Yup, favorite author for marvelous pros. That he is a mensch in person is all the better. Had the honor of getting some books signed once and still consider them my treasure.

Following the author of The Last Unicorn on Facebook is the only thing that makes being on that site worthwhile.

(source)

[rayroseu]

Always wrecks me up that Meleanor is as forgotten as Knight of Dawn is, that even her son doesn't remember her.

Just like Silver, Lilia didn't inform him of his identity as a Silver Owl so that Silver can live without guilt of the atrocities his original kingdom did.

But, I think, in Malleus' case, Lilia and Maleficia (I think) didn't inform him too much about Meleanor's demise, not so much because they don't want to guilt Malleus about her sacrifice to him, that's a part of it, but I also think it was more so that his hatred for humans wouldn't go deeper. Especially since he was raised in the castle with only the Senates and pure faes who has limited interaction with humans, so naturally he grew disliking humans too (until he met Silver).

As we know, Malleus is very attached to his past, that's why in Book 7, he's having a hard time to let go. Even his interests mirrors his tight attachment to the past, i.e his fascination on history, ruins, antiques, abandoned places, etc.

I think in an alternate reality where he had knew about every detail that happened on Meleanor and Levan and the faes on Wild rose Castle basically, his view on humankind would be even more negative. He might even reject his invitation on NRC just like Gen. Lilia did. And, unlike Lilia, since Malleus always attaches to the past and not on the possible future, he might even never give chance that he can get along with humans.

I know its popular analysis that Meleanor and Malleus are different, but to me, they're fundamentally the same person, just raised in a different environment. Meleanor was never given a chance to see a good side of the humans, Malleus was like that for a bit, even in NRC, he still held his deep rooted belief that he really doesn't believe that humans would understand faes as Lilia hopes (Dorm Uniform Vignette). Malleus and Meleanor are the "same person" but Malleus just "had the chance to not know" the entire history of it, so that he can form his own opinion about it as he grows up.

Even if he grew up knowing it, it would be immature to stay on his hatred for humans for so long (I think Malleus would do this considering his trait of being attached to the past) and I think Lilia and Maleficia didnt want Malleus to grow up like that,, they must usher him to a better future yk.

Its just that its tragic that for Malleus to grow up and take a chance towards a better future, he has to forget major things about his mother and all the sacrifices that his family made, just so he wouldn't be "stuck with it. "

Maybe in a reality where Malleus does know every detail of his history, but just that, it would take a long time for him to let go of his guilt and hatred, that by the time he's ready to forgive humankind, Lilia might not be there to guide him anymore.

I think I read an analysis back then (or was it a legit line in game?? lol) that Malleus shouldve been in Briar Valley for just a bit longer instead of suddenly transferring to NRC where there'll be too many culture shock for him, he's just not entirely capable yet of balancing his feelings and power, but I think Maleficia/Lilia couldn't afford to have that much time to emotionally grow Malleus in Briar Valley, for the reason that by the time Malleus would be in control of his power and feelings, Lilia wouldn't be there anymore to guard him in NRC and guide him about human culture. (He says his magic weakens over the years)

I feel like Maleficia only agreed to take Malleus to NRC bcs Lilia will be there, he's the perfect guide for Malleus to have with in NRC, he's strong so he can physically protect him while also being a wise person that can teach Malleus about understanding humans while still upholding his fae values. Other guards wouldn't be suitable. Silver and Sebek are not fully trained, Baul is an advisor now not a soldier and he wouldn't be a great guide to have in human society lol So, she has to take that chance while Lilia is still here, even if Malleus is just "too young."

side note: what if thats also the reason why Maleficia let go of Meleanor to Wild Rose Castle alkfdklsd She trusted Lilia and Levan would protect her and they did yet even so.... 😭😭😭 I feel like its so tragic that everytime Maleficia let go of Meleanor/Malleus, they're always leading into a danger where she cannot reach and help them (on Meleanor's case, the communication on Black Scale and Wild Rose was disrupted bcs every envoy that Lilia and other soldiers sent to inform Maleficia that Wild Rose was besieged was all killed by the Silver Owls, so Maleficia knew too late. On Malleus' case, it would be too risky for her to just suddenly show up on Sage Island, it would leave Briar Valley in a very vulnerable state with no Draconia residing in their land, STYX is calling her to meet Malleus but I think many faes would disagree on their plan bcs that's exactly the type of situation that cornered Meleanor years ago, Levan/Malleus is lost and in danger so Meleanor/Maleficia has to save them, if you think about it in Briar Valley's view, it feels like a trap lol. It's not an easy decision to just let go of their only Draconia ruler to a human territory and on top of that, they're on the verge of losing one(Malleus). I wish they create a scene of the Briar Govt in the book, I'm sure the Senates are in ruins and regretting that Malleus went to that school or something, like its always STYX when its equally intriguing to know Maleficia and the Senates reaction to Malleus' overblot.

I find it really depressing that Malleus, like Silver, was born out of so much love from their family, yet they never knew the full scope of it (until now). 😭😭😭

[traceypuppygirl]

Your big sister has always been a bit of a problem. She's always staying out late for parties, getting drunk with her friends, or otherwise getting in some form of trouble. It's annoying, because when she is home she's usually hungover or home early due to some problem, meaning you rarely see her in a good mood.

One day, while you're chilling on the couch alone, your big sister comes bursting into the house unexpectedly more drunk than you've ever seen her. She stomps over to you mumbling something incoherent and roughly picks you up, tossing you onto your stomach on the couch.

Before you can speak she tears off your pants, exposing your ass and little girl cock. She spits on your ass, pressing her fingers into it. Then, when she pulls them away, you feel something hard press against your backside as she leans over you and pins you down, using her strength to keep your struggling to a minimum.

Her cock pushes inside, the minimal amount of spit she gave you helping it slide in but not stopping the pain. Her cock is huge, stretching your tight virgin hole out as she starts drunkenly slamming herself into you without warning. Your eyes shut as you wince, trying to scream, but she stuffs your face into the couch hard and keeps you from speaking.

"Shut the fuck up."

She growls into your ear before fucking you faster, her deep, gravelly voice sounding much more frightening than usual. She grabs your waist tight, leaving red marks as she fucks you hard. You try to wiggle or squirm or anything to get away, finding it hard to breathe through the couch cushion.

She pulls you up and flips you over, lifting your legs over her shoulder and raping you like a wild animal. You cry and pant, begging her to stop, but she just grabs you by the neck and grips you tight. Your hands reach up and claw at hers, trying desperately to get her off of you, but she's always been the stronger sister.

"I said, shut the FUCK UP!"

Her thrusts become erratic and her grip on your neck tighter, you feel her throbbing cock pounding your aching prostate. Only now do you notice your own cock, leaking pre and hitting against her stomach. You try to scream, but she growls in your ear like a wolf to its prey.

Just as you feel your vision fading, she releases the grip on your throat and you gasp for air, coughing and crying, shaking all over, only to chomp down hard on the fleshy part of your neck and gives one final thrust into you before unloading what seems like a month's worth of cum into your stomach. Your eyes roll back and you feel yourself cumming too, you want to scream but the best you can do is gasp and let out a long pathetic moan.

So much happened so fast, your mind hardly able to focus through all of that. You lay there, feeling the blood dripping from your neck as she pulls away. Through hazy vision you can see her panting, blood on her teeth and lips. Just before losing consciousness you hear her say,

"I'm sorry, I really needed that."

You wake up the next day tucked into bed, aching all over. You can't exactly remember what happened, but you know your big sister had something to do with it. You go through the whole day trying to remember what happened to you when, finally, you're laying in bed and it hits you.

You end up grinding your pillow until you cum that night, face bright red as the memory finally returns. You have to bring this up with your big sister tomorrow. Maybe she'll do it again..?

[cece693]

The Better Brother (Damon Salvatore x M! Reader)

A small pet peeve of mine regarding Damon Salvatore fics is how people sometimes gloss over the wave of self loathing this man possesses. Since childhood he's had to bear constant comparisons with Stefan—how he wasn't enough, not as kind, etc.—so in my mind, if he does find someone he would absolutely push them away. That gave rise to this fic!

Summary: Damon finally found the one, however, thoughts of self-hatred and the constant comparison to his 'better' brother had him doubting if he even was deserving of such future.

tags: sad, in my feelings, break up, Damon thinking he's underserving, self hatred

Damon leaned against the bar of the Mystic Grill, the amber liquid in his glass catching the dim light. He swirled the bourbon absently, his mind not on the drink but on the man standing at the dartboard, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he teased Stefan for his missed throw.

M/N had come into Damon’s life like a hurricane—wild, passionate, and with a kindness that made him feel human for the first time in decades. He wasn’t supposed to fall this hard. But now that he had, every insecurity Damon carried weighed heavier on him.

He drained the glass and set it down with a little too much force, drawing a glance from M/N. Damon met his eyes and forced a smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his own. M/N tilted his head, his expression softening with concern, and made his way back over. “What’s got you brooding over here?” he teased, bumping Damon’s shoulder as he slid onto the stool beside him.

Damon shrugged, reaching for the bottle to pour himself another. “Just thinking about how life is unfairly cruel to us handsome, brooding types.”

M/N didn’t laugh. He didn’t fall for Damon’s deflections anymore.

“You’ve been distant all week,” he noted, his voice quieter now. “What’s really going on?”

Damon’s grip on the glass tightened. He hated how easily M/N saw through him, hated how good he was for him. And most of all, he hated himself for ruining what they had before it could even bloom. But Damon knew how this story ended. It was always the same. Stefan was the hero, the savior, the one who got the happy ending. Damon was the shadow lurking behind, destined to lose.

“You should go back to your darts game,” Damon said, his voice cold now, deliberately so. “I’m fine.”

M/N stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. “I know you don’t believe this, but you don’t have to push me away every time you get scared, Damon.”

Scared.

The word stung because it was true.

Later that night, Damon found himself alone in the Salvatore boarding house. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows across the room, but its warmth didn’t reach him. He sat on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, a photograph clutched in his hand.

In the photo, they were both smiling—genuine, unguarded. Damon hardly recognized himself in that moment, caught off guard by M/N’s infectious energy. The picture had been taken at the Mystic Falls Winter Festival, a day Damon had reluctantly agreed to attend. M/N had dragged him to the Ferris wheel, teasing him about being afraid of heights.

Damon hadn’t been afraid—not of the heights, at least. But the way M/N had looked at him at the top, with so much trust and warmth, had sent a different kind of fear coursing through him. For a brief moment, suspended in the sky with M/N’s laughter ringing in his ears, it felt like the world wasn’t so bleak.

He clenched his jaw and stared at the photograph for a long time, his fingers trembling slightly. “You don’t deserve this,” he muttered to himself. “You don’t deserve him.”

With a sharp breath, he shoved the picture into the drawer of the side table and slammed it shut. This was the right thing to do. Even if it hurt. Even if it tore him apart.

The next day, Stefan found Damon in the parlor. The sunlight streaming through the windows only emphasized how wrecked the oldest Salvatore looked. He was slouched in the armchair, a near-empty bottle of bourbon in front of him, his eyes distant and unfocused, as if he had been staring into nothingness for hours.

“What did you do?” Stefan’s voice cut through the oppressive silence of the room, sharp and demanding.

Damon let out a low chuckle, the sound bitter and hollow. “Relax, Saint Stefan,” he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I did you a favor.”

Stefan’s brows furrowed as he stepped closer, his tone tightening with frustration. “What the hell does that mean?”

Damon finally lifted his gaze, his trademark smirk flickering onto his face. “He’s all yours now,” he said, the words carrying a mix of resignation and self-loathing.

He didn’t need to ask to know what Damon meant. “You broke up with him,” Stefan said, his tone flat, more a statement than a question.

Damon shrugged, his nonchalance forced and brittle. “Better for everyone that way,” he muttered, grabbing the bottle and taking another swig.

Stefan wasn’t having it. He crossed the room in two strides and snatched the bottle from Damon’s hand, setting it firmly on the table out of reach. “Better for everyone or better for you?” he snapped, his voice cutting through Damon’s feigned indifference.

Damon’s smirk flickered. He slouched further into the chair, rubbing a hand over his face. “Don’t get all noble on me, brother. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? A clean slate? No more complications? No more me standing in the way?”

Stefan stared at him, incredulous. “You really think I wanted this? That I wanted you to destroy the best thing that’s ever happened to you?”

“Spare me the lecture, Stefan,” Damon said, his tone sharp, though it lacked its usual bite. “He’ll be fine. Hell, he’ll probably thank me someday.”

Stefan shook his head, his frustration mounting. “You don’t get it, do you? M/N doesn’t want me. He never has. He chose you, Damon. And instead of fighting for him, you pushed him away because you’re too much of a coward to believe you deserve him.”

Damon’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists on the armrests of the chair. “Coward? Is that what you think I am?”

“Yes,” Stefan shot back without hesitation. “You’re so scared of being happy, of someone actually loving you for who you are, that you’d rather sabotage it before they can leave you. You think that’s noble? It’s not. It’s pathetic.”

Damon stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he loomed over Stefan. “Don’t you dare lecture me about love, Stefan. You’ve been handed every happy ending on a silver platter while I’ve had to fight for scraps.”

“And this time, you didn’t even fight,” Stefan countered, his voice soft but firm. “You just gave up. And you hurt him in the process.”

Damon’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him as quickly as it had come. He turned away, staring into the dying embers of the fireplace. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “He deserves better. Better than me.”

“Maybe that’s not your choice to make, Damon. Maybe he already decided that you’re what he wants. And maybe…just maybe, you should let yourself believe it.”

Damon didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The words sat heavy in his chest, pressing against the fragile walls he’d built around his heart. He clenched his jaw, his eyes burning as he stared into the fire, willing the tears to stay where they were. Stefan sighed, his frustration softening into something closer to pity. “You’re going to regret this,” he said quietly. “And when you do, I just hope it’s not too late.”

He turned and left the room, leaving Damon alone once again.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire. Damon sank back into his chair, staring at the empty spot on the table where the bourbon bottle had been.

Deep down, he knew Stefan was right.

But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

And that was the curse of being Damon Salvatore.

[subjectsix]

I do know most of these have a kind of workaround, and this post has been a great place for people to suggest more and find some for themselves, which rules! Most things I’ve complained about here I’ve got a workaround for already— for those suggesting Linux, I have a machine running Mint

My point is we can’t just wait for The Revolution™️, a vague concept of the future, and the workarounds aren’t solutions, just temporary fixes. My point is it needs to be talked about more (my wall of text got 20,000 notes, that’s wild to me) and we need to be active how we can in carving out our own spaces. I’m debating buying a forum soon and looking for more to join. I cancelled Spotify and I’m working on seeing if a Pi Hole to block ads is good for my household.

I’ve spent a lot of time compromising begrudgingly, so now I’m hopeful (and certain tbh) that people will be the little changes that stop this ball from rolling. Its not convenient or doable for everyone to become Linux users, or all switch to dumb phones, or all quit Facebook— but based on this post everyone’s fed up enough to be heard enough about the fact that we won’t put up with garbage and there are alternatives.

The current major internet spaces don’t foster community well. I saw people on Tiktok lamenting how Ena, an extremely popular series with a new game coming out for free and doing very well for itself, had a “dead fandom” because engagement wasn’t constant and loud. Some people don’t know how the internet was, and don’t know the alternatives suggested in this post.

I guess, really, my point is to not shut up about the fact that ownership of things and the right to repair are extremely important, and to remind people the things we miss can be done right now, and to not let the temporary fixes be the ultimate solutions.

I love love that tons of people on this post are offering to show people their fixes, and providing instructions on how to nuke Edge or Copilot off their computers. I even have a resource post in the works. That’s the online community I’ve missed! It’s still here, we just have to be more proactive about finding it :’)

Its like you say— there are work arounds! And I think everyone is ready for them (and sick of needing them). We gotta form community (small and big) about it and be willing to reject what we can of the growing bloatware and enshittification of stuff

I don't know I'm not done talking about it. It's insane that I can't just uninstall Edge or Copilot. That websites require my phone number to sign up. That people share their contacts to find their friends on social media.

I wouldn't use an adblocker if ads were just banners on the side funding a website I enjoy using and want to support. Ads pop up invasively and fill my whole screen, I misclick and get warped away to another page just for trying to read an article or get a recipe.

Every app shouldn't be like every other app. Instagram didn't need reels and a shop. TikTok doesn't need a store. Instagram doesn't need to be connected to Facebook. I don't want my apps to do everything, I want a hub for a specific thing, and I'll go to that place accordingly.

I love discord, but so much information gets lost to it. I don't want to join to view things. I want to lurk on forums. I want to be a user who can log in and join a conversation by replying to a thread, even if that conversation was two days ago. I know discord has threads, it's not the same. I don't want to have to verify my account with a phone number. I understand safety and digital concerns, but I'm concerned about information like that with leaks everywhere, even with password managers.

I shouldn't have to pay subscriptions to use services and get locked out of old versions. My old disk copy of photoshop should work. I should want to upgrade eventually because I like photoshop and supporting the business. Adobe is a whole other can of worms here.

Streaming is so splintered across everything. Shows release so fast. Things don't get physical releases. I can't stream a movie I own digitally to friends because the share-screen blocks it, even though I own two digital copies, even though I own a physical copy.

I have an iPod, and I had to install a third party OS to easily put my music on it without having to tangle with iTunes. Spotify bricked hardware I purchased because they were unwillingly to upkeep it. They don't pay their artists. iTunes isn't even iTunes anymore and Apple struggles to upkeep it.

My TV shows me ads on the home screen. My dad lost access to eBook he purchased because they were digital and got revoked by the company distributing them. Hitman 1-3 only runs online most of the time. Flash died and is staying alive because people love it and made efforts to keep it up.

I have to click "not now" and can't click "no". I don't just get emails, they want to text me to purchase things online too. My windows start search bar searches online, not just my computer. Everything is blindly called an app now. Everything wants me to upload to the cloud. These are good tools! But why am I forced to use them! Why am I not allowed to own or control them?

No more!!!!! I love my iPod with so much storage and FLAC files. I love having all my fics on my harddrive. I love having USBs and backups. I love running scripts to gut suck stuff out of my Windows computer I don't want that spies on me. I love having forums. I love sending letters. I love neocities and webpages and webrings. I will not be scanning QR codes. Please hand me a physical menu. If I didn't need a smartphone for work I'd get a "dumb" phone so fast. I want things to have buttons. I want to use a mouse. I want replaceable batteries. I want the right to repair. I grew up online and I won't forget how it was!

[nmakii]

omg bachira, isagi, tetchou and dazai with an autistic s/o PLEASE

if you will , make them headcanons ^^ hope you have a wonderhoy day !!

hello, my alien. we’re each other’s mystery

— bachira + isagi + tetchou + dazai x autistic!s/o

so basically all of them x me i see.. i feel like i fucked up on isagi i cant pinpoint his personality ugh. debut into bllk omg im shy hi reentry into bsd too haha if u guys were active in 2022 i think i am familiar. WAIT NOTE AB THE TITLE… LISTEN TO FRIENDS BY BTS IM NOT ABLEIST ITS SUPPOSED TO BE CUTE :(

— bachira meguru

lets be honest he is also a bit autistic…

very hard to be around when you’re overstimmed ngl… he tries to tone it down when he knows you cant handle too much at the moment. but it’s hard for him to just dial the craziness to 50 😞

oh, very good though at getting you out of social situations. he can slip the two of you out of a party like it’s nobody’s business, cause it is nobody’s business :x

hes also a bit of a wild card too if you’re obsessive about having a routine. he’s a free spirit, so having to do things the same way is a bit of a chore.

when you go non-verbal, he brings out a notebook that you two write your conversations on. he doesn’t actually have to write it down. he can communicate just fine, but he likes to write them down as a memento of your relationship.

he alsoooo likes listening to you yap about your special interest! very attentive, you’d think that you’re a professor and he’s your student at how the flow of your conversation is going

“huh— where did bachira and s/o go..?” isagi asked. he turned around, looking for the two of you after the sudden realization that he was abandoned in the middle of the buffet line…

bachira pulled you out, and in an abandoned hall. he noticed you suddenly started plugging your ears.

‘you ok sunshine? :( is the music too loud?’

‘a little bit… i just wanna get away for like 5 min..’

‘hehe, dont worry. ill stay with you （╹◡╹） <3’

‘ty meg :) <3’

bachira smiled as he saw your hand-drawn emoticon. the two of you doodled all over the notebook while he hummed until you were ready to return.

isagi groaned as he saw the two of you reenter. “you guys..! you should’ve told me if you were gonna sneak away!” bachira stuck out his tongue, making a silly expression. “oops! it just slipped my mind!” he snickered.

— isagi yoichi

with the geniuses he has to keep up with, you’re a total walk in the park for him ;p

mega caretaker, he’s super good at protecting you in uncomfortable environments. i feel like he has a weighted blanket somewhere in his room to cover you with, cause he knows it makes you feel safe.

he lowk overprotective sometimes though. he knows his friends like bachira and raichi are a bit more on the raucous side, so he doesn’t hang out with them when he’s with you until like… 2 years into your relationship (they lowk didnt even know he had a partner). in those two years, he only introduced you to his peaceful friends like nagi, hiori, iemon, and kuon

he doesn’t fight you too much about if you have a routine. he has a luck routine and his spacial awareness makes him really meticulous about how things happen, so he’s gets your struggle :x

he tried learning sign language. he really tried… but there was so much signs; for an entire month, his search history was ‘how do i say [thing] in sign language’

he ended up only learning the alphabet, numbers, and basic words like please and hungry. now when you go non-verbal, he simply just opens his notes app for you to type ;p

he, like bachira, loves your yap. its like his personal podcast fr. he likes to let you sit on the kitchen counter and yap, while he washes dishes. he also likes putting on wireless headsets and listen to your voice messages while he practices, or works out at the gym.

“are you absolutely sure you wanna meet them?” isagi asks. “babe, theyre my friends, but theyre also kind of annoying.” he warns you. of course he meant it lovingly… you nod. “yup! they’re your friends, yoi. i wanna meet them..!”

he sighs and nods. “fine… don’t say i didn’t warn you…” he opens the door. you recognize kunigami, he’s talking with chigiri. “isagi! there you areee~!” a boy with a bob-cut hums. “ah, bachira… this is s/o.” isagi points to you. “ooh~! nice to meet you! im bachira meguru. so you’re the one isagi’s been hiding?”

“don’t overwhelm them too much…” isagi sighs, he pulls you away carefully, bringing you in kunigami’s direction. if you settled in with people you were already acquainted with, then you should probably adjust better. that was isagi’s conclusion. “if any of them pester you, just tell me, okay?”

you nod, a bit saddened at your’s and bachira’s conversation’s sudden end. “im not a kid, yoi. you don’t have to worry over me or anything.” isagi frowns. “hnn… i just don’t want my friends overstimulating you. they might be too much for you, babe.” he explains. at that moment, igaguri suddenly yelled out at gagamaru for taking one of his gyozas, making you instinctively cover your ears.

“seeee?” he points out. “okay… point taken… but, i can still deal with it. if im uncomfortable, ill just tell you, okay?” you offer, trying to compromise. isagi looks around, weighing the possibilities before nodding. “finee…”

that day actually went quite well, you were able to keep up with all of them without getting overstimulated. that night, isagi had his face in his pillow, his face being that of death and grief. ‘they dont need me anymore… theyre gonna end up hanging out with my friends more than me…’ he mumbles.

— tetchou suehiro

another lowk might be autistic (but in a diff way)

he isnt too sure about what to do when you’re overstimmed. so, he usually just takes you to a quiet place and sits down with you until you’re calmer.

hes hella conflicted on whether or not he should introduce you to the hunting dogs. his line of work is pretty dangerous after all, and his co-workers aren’t exactly… pacifists 💀

he ends up deciding not to though. worst comes to worst, he just introduces you 5 years in to your relationship— thats what he thinks.

he doesnt mind your routine. he, himself, is pretty eccentric, so you two are just okay with each other’s quirks :x

tetchou doesnt care when you go non-verbal. lol. okay joke, its more like, he’s also very quiet, he doesn’t even actually notice that you two havent talked to each other for 14 hours.

but when the two of you are talking, he is still as quiet as ever. it’s usually you yapping and tetchou asking questions once in a while. never though, does he ever interrupt you when you talk; always waits for you to finish what you’re saying so you dont lose your train of thought 🫡

tetchou spreads some spicy ranch on his pancakes. it was a pretty good combo. he sat at the dining table, as he heard your alarm clock ring.

first thing you do when you wake up, stretch then use the bathroom. tetchou has your routine memorized by now. second, have cereal for breakfast. third, get dressed. fourth, check if your bag has everything you need. he continues his own routine, and you complete yours, until it’s time to head to work.

you’re double, triple, quadruple checking your bag, making sure you didn’t leave anything. tetchou finished lacing up the strings of his boots before he rises back. “ready for work?” he asks, taking his own little peek into your bag.

“uhuh” you nod. tetchou hums, noticing the charger you left on the counter, and slipping it into your bag. “now you are…”. you gasp, “so that’s what i forgot… thank you, chou..” you say. his deep voice vibrates in his throat as he leans in and kisses you, “stay safe. call me if you need anything.” you wrap your arms around his neck.

last part of your routine, hug and kiss tetchou before leaving for work.

— osamu dazai

he lowk adhd u feel?

when youre overstimmed, he lets you lay on his shoulder while he pats your back and brushes your hair. times like this are his personal favorites, it’s when the world is quiet and no one but you and him exists.

defdefdef introduces you to the ADA members. he finds you similar to kyoka, and always encourages you to hang out with her.

adding on that, he sort of sees akutagawa in you… is akutagawa also autistic? hmm… either way, hes a criminal! he cant let his partner interact with a criminal! — the criminal says after diner dashing again.

the routine thing doesnt really work for dazai either… it’s either you break up with him or let him wake up at 4:00 to eat noodles and rearrange the layout of his dorm, bestie… (just leaves his pot in the sink btw, he a bum like that)

actually knows sign language! dont ask me why he knows, bc i dunno either. he just does :x

he also loves to listen to your yap. actual yapper x yapper. you two’s conversations are lowk exhausting though. you both interrupt each other and talk until you’re both breathless. HAHAHAAH

sluuuuuuurp!

you’re waken up by the loud, really gross, squelching sounds of dazai’s saucy noodles as he slurps them up. the sound is uncomfortable— really uncomfortable.

“s—samu… dont… too loud…” you groan, trying to cover your ears. dazai perks up, “ah, did i wake you..? awh, im sorry, dear..!” he apologizes. even though dazai truly meant it, for some reason it just sounded like sarcasm. “uhuh… j…just dont do it again… trying to sleep…” you hum. “got it… go back to sleep, sweets”

for the rest of the night, you sleep well. dazai makes sure to remain veeeery quiet, taking bites of his noodles rather than slurping, carrying his feet, and using all of his hidden muscles to carry his bookshelf. maybe if he keeps doing this, he wont look so lanky anymore.

at around 6:30, you finally wake up again, your surroundings completely different, and you start to panic. “wh—h..huh..?” you look around. dazai’s in the closet, rolling all of his empty beer bottles into it. “hi, baby! just decided to tidy up a bit. you like?” he asks

tidy up? “tidy up, my ass..! all of your stuff is in different places..! i have to relearn my way around your dorm all over again..!” you complain. “hehe… it was for a good cause! you have your own space now in here!” he grins, opening the second to the bottom drawer in his dresser. it was tidied up, and empty.

“for me?” you ask. “mmhm.” he confirms with a hum. even though dazai was quite lazy, stubborn, and annoying, he really put effort into making you happy. just you.

[suenitos]

the way dream and george rely on each other is breathtaking like obviously sapnap is heavily involved in their plans and them in his and etc etc but sapnap has created a separation where he has nrg, he has more of a streaming friend community. he has done more solo endeavors so it’s kinda wild watching dnf glue themselves to each other so much

something about their mutual admiration and respect for one another, not saying they dont have that for sapnap but its just different obviously, is just so touching too with knowing how they started together and its truly just been a constant collaboration process with zero ego or jealousy about success... like i think we all at least on a subconscious level understand why dteam arent like other cc friendships or anything like that but i have always found it interesting how generally centralized they are at least in this respect apart from sapnap's sidequests. maybe part of it is dream not knowing any other video game (😭) and like george's humility in a way where hes not as competitive with constantly grinding for more money than he needs to support himself or also general disinterest in doing more in general for both because well minecraft is just a really good game you could do so much with? idk those are just very parasocial thoughts but also idk their insane chemistry and connection making them each other's favorite person in the whole world and communication in ways almost no one else can really crack probably has something to do with it too who knows

[magneticflower]

Some thoughts about .... well, that

I'm seeing theories that Jinx isn't dead just based on the fact that cait was looking at the blueprints and such and there was that floating airship and that glitchy bit at the very end but honestly it doesn't stop me from feeling absolutely numb and off about how that last bit went down.

Like, a good portion of Jinx's appearances in those last two eps consisted of her either wanting to die or straight up trying to kill herself on repeat whilst Ekko has to witness each attempt over and over and over again just for it all to end with her just sacrificing herself in the end 'cause I guess she was just never worth saving.

And on that note, why didn't we get to hear what else Ekko said to her at that moment? I felt that it was an important conversation to be had between those two. Like, that whole bit with Ekko also just killed me because he couldn't even cross the bridge in the alternate universe without seeing her body lying on it and its like what was the point of doing all that to him, too?

On top of all that, they have her burn down The Last Drop, make a point of showing Silco's chair getting absolutely engulfed in flames, and they have her use her own little hideout as an airship thing to help with the battle and it's essentially like every little piece of Jinx that was in Zaun is now gone and she's just--- erased.

And then in the ending you just got her sister humming that bridge song and looking lowkey out of her wits and how am I supposed to feel about all that--- she was literally completely and utterly unable to let go of vander on that ledge and it led to her sister having to throw herself at him to protect her so Vi just experienced the same losses all over again except worse because it is really all over. What kind of ending was that for her???

I felt the narrative direction was really compelling in the first ep of act 3 and some of the second ep but I just--- I don't understand the choices made in that ending I guess.

Also, the fact that Singed manipulated nearly every single key player he got in contact with to save his daughter and it actually just straight up worked for him in the end is wild. I guess we know who the real winner is.

[lichpoweredbyfandoms]

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE END OF ARCANE SEASON 2

So uh…. the end of Arcane tore my heart out and shattered it into a million pieces. I may have blacked out and written a short, post-canon fic of Vi mourning for Jinx. Fic under the cut, or you can read it on ao3 here:

The dust from the war on Piltover had settled. Fires were extinguished, and bodies were buried. A worn hopefulness had spread over the city, broken bones held perfectly still with the slim chance they might mend. Everyone had lost something, and now only the question of what came next remained.

It was late at night, but Vi couldn’t sleep. She hadn’t been able to rest for more than a few hours at a time in the past few days. Most nights, she laid in bed besides Caitlyn, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, clinging to the reassurance that at least one person she loved was still here.

Silent feet hit carpet as Vi slipped out of bed. She let herself wander the Kiramman estate in silence. A ghost echoing through the hallway, haunted by the weight of all she’d lost.

At some point she found herself in the garden. The moonlight illuminated the array of flowers and trees that surrounded a marble water fountain. Vi settled herself at its edge, staring into the water. It shimmered blue, like the hextech crystals her sister had loved. Gentle ripples fanned out from its center with soft splashes, a mimicry of Jinx’s hair, loose and wild as it had been in the cell.

You’re never going to give up on me, are you? Another broken promise, another betrayal, another failure. It wasn’t fair. Vi had only ever asked for one thing. For her little sister to be safe right beside her. She wanted to cry and scream and throw things and rage against the entire fucking world until there was nothing left but ashes, because what was even the point if her sister wasn't-

“Vi?” A soft voice broke her from her thoughts. Caitlyn crouched down next to her, wearing a blue robe and a concerned expression. “Are you alright?”

Vi looked away. “I just needed to think.”

“You miss your sister, don’t you?” she asked as she sat beside Vi.

“She can’t just be gone, Cait.” Her voice cracked around the plea. “Not after all this.”

“What happened to her… I know it was unfair,” Caitlyn said softly, “but you can’t blame yourself. Jinx made her choice.”

“Well she chose wrong!” Vi snapped.

“Maybe. But it was still her choice. Don’t take that away from her.”

“She never really listened to me,” Vi said with a wet laugh, “not when it really mattered. No one could tell her what to do.”

Caitlyn smiled sadly. “Your sister had so much spirit. So much energy.”

“You don’t have to…” Vi sighed. “She killed your mom. You don’t have to pretend for me.”

“I think we’re all more than our worst actions. Your sister included.” Caitlyn reached down and took her hand. “I only wish I’d had the chance to know the side of her you saw.”

“She was so smart. Even when we were little kids. She was always screwing around with some gadget or other.” Vi shook her head with a fond smile. “It drove Milo crazy sometimes. And she was so… good. I know how that sounds now, with everything she did, but…”

“I understand. I saw how much she loved you, Vi,” Caitlyn murmured.

“She just wanted to help,” Vi said despairingly, “even when everything was falling apart, even after I abandoned her… all she wanted was family. That’s why Silco got to her. That's why she died. Because I failed.”

“You were just a child,” Caitlyn reminded her gently.

“So was she!” Vi’s shouting gave way to sobs. “She was just a kid. And now she- she won’t get the chance to be anything else.”

Caitlyn pulled her into a tight hug, and she collapsed into her girlfriend’s arms. Vi wept bitter tears for her parents, their broken dreams for a better world, for Mylo and Claggor, two street kids who could have been so much more than were allowed to be, for Vander, his undying devotion to them all. She wept for Powder, that earnest little girl, and for Jinx, that wild fighter, and for every person her sister ever had been and would never be. And Vi cried for herself- for a family that had gone up in flames twice, for the miserable years she’d spent alone, for the hope she’d stubbornly hung onto all these years that had plummeted into the abyss with her sister. Vi wept and shook and sobbed, letting out all her anguish, all her pain, until she finally reached a point where she had no tears left inside her. Nothing left to give.

“I’m sorry for making you deal with this,” she whispered into Caitlyn’s chest.

“It’s alright.” Her girlfriend pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve got you. Always.”

[jamesdaycare]

A Wet Service, Part 2

"Oh but maybe you´re more of an ass guy... I also have a good behind! Do you want to see it?"

"Well, judging by the throbbing on your pee pee and the little drop I see forming on its tip, I think that´s a ´yes´. But are you sure you can handle it? Say ´yes miss´. Come on, use your big boy words."

"Hahaha you´re such a good boy! Well, a deal is a deal!"

"Ohhh, someone also likes big butts I see! You´d need a ladder to put your pee pee on my cheeks hahaha. Wanna touch? Oh yes, Miss Denise has very soft skin doesn’t she?".

"Now that you´ve seen everything you need, why don´t you start stroking your little fella? Oh you want me to stroke it for you? But you have to ask very nicely sweetie. Why don’t you use your baby voice and tell me: ‘Miss Denise, I weally am a widdle boy and I don’t know what to do with my pee pee. I need your hewp! I’m not a big boy yet and I’m afraid of doing this. Can you pwetty pwease hewp me?’”

“Awww sure sweetheart, Miss Denise can help you. And it’s really brave of you to admit you’re not a big boy yet! In general, Denise treats his big boys with a full night of wild sex. But I think a little handjob is more of your speed, don’t you think?”

“Now let me get on my knees so you can have my titties on full display. Another think I like to do with big boys is putting their penises in between them and stroke them. But I’m sure your little fella would get so lost in there he’ll start calling his own mommy to come and get him.” *giggle*

“I only grabbed it and I’m already feeling it throbbing! This is going to be fast! I bet all you need is just a few strokes to make your cum cums. Oh what’s that? You feel like peeing? Oh no, don’t worry, it’s the feeling you get when you’re about to cum. Why don’t you suck your thumb so you don’t worry about this? That’s a good boy!”

“Now do you wanna make your cummies? Do you wanna make your cummies for Miss Denise? Awww yes you do! Miss Denise will give your little pee pee a big kiss on its tip so you can blow your little load, okay baby? Now get ready!”

*MUAAAAAAAK*

*SPURT SPURT SPURT*

“Ohhh what a big boy! You made your cummies for Miss Denise! And look how much you’re cumming!”

*SPURT SPURT HISSSSSSSSSSS*

“Oh my, speaking of water!”

*HISSSSSSSSSSS*

“I think someone made an “uh-oh”, didn’t he? Awww baby yes, you were right! You really needed to go pee pee back then! And your little nub relaxed so much after his big boy accident that he couldn’t hold the babyish one. I’m really sorry cutie, I should have let you go potty. Next time I promise I’ll help you. We can even use the plastic potty you have next to your crib!”

“Damn, that’s a big mess you made on the carpet… Mommy’s not going to be happy about it! Uh-oh, I know that face… Is someone about to cry? Listen, I’d love to stay and help you with this, but I have to go visit another client. Just tell your mommy you couldn’t hold it, and suck your thumb so you don’t cry that much. Now give Miss Denise a big kiss on her cheek! *MUAK* That’s a good boy! Make sure to call me again! See you!”

[operafantomet]

How would you rank each non-replica on a scale of creativity/original ideas?

That is a good question with many possible answers! Mostly because there are "good" creative/original ideas and "bad" creative/original ideas out there, and some of the most creative ones may also be the one I dislike the most... For example, if going by creativity and originality alone, Estonia would be very high on the list. But I'm not really loving the production overall, so I wouldn't say it's the best original take on POTO. If that makes sense. But if ranking the productions purely by how different they are and how hard they have worked on not looking like the original, I would say:

ESTONIA: Inter-war setting, rather bleak in its colour scheme and overall design, with one helluva mirror-discoball lair design, leather-coat Phantom, Vivienne Westwood-esque Il Muto, Moulin Rouge-ish Masquerade, 1990s Haute Couture Don Juan... There's so much to say. Definitely original, and not just giving "we had a low budget" vibe.

FINLAND / SWEDEN: 1980s costume vibes, gold mask, rock'n'roll, huge sets, tiny chandelier, gigantic orchestra, for the most actual opera singers in the leads. This one felt odd more than anything. But original? Very much so.

KRISTIANSTAD, SWEDEN: Definitely a production on a budget, but yet checking off all the boxes of what you'd expect of a POTO production. And with some super original ideas for some key scenes - Raoul stumbling around in the falling sets during the Overture, the elegant double staging in the boat scene, the rarities in the Phantom's lair, Red Death crashing through a mirror and later disappearing in mid-air... They had so many cool lil' details going on. In style fairly 1880s, and with a cool horizontal half-mask for the Phantom. I really appreciated this one.

SERBIA: One could maybe argue this was more low-budget than original...? At least the basic black set with few changes and the many low-key costumes didn't feel like the biggest effort out there. But different? Oh definitely.

BULGARIA: Pretty much the same comments as Serbia. However, the Phantom's fruit crown in PONR can never be unseen. Neither can the monkey musical box which seemed to have lost its will to live. Memorable for sure.

ROMANIA / NORWAY / GREECE / TOUR: Whereas the basic drum set was fairly similar to the Restaged Tour, it felt like an original production still. Some independent interpretations of the Palais Garnier (including featuring a huge window as a mirror substitute for Christine), more Edwardian flair of the costume design, and a kick-ass chandelier - grand, fun, and with some cool and independent directing ideas throughout. The idea of never leaving the opera house, for example, was interesting. Very enjoyable overall.

MEDITERRANEAN: Basing nearly the whole set design within a rectangular, turnable box on stage was a neat and cool idea. This, combined with oh-so-Victorian costumes and so many nods to Phantom history, felt original and clever. Also some stunning original visuals, like the Phantom's lair with the Piraniesi-esque labyrinth backdrop. Speaking of original, it probably looked very as expected with its heavy victoriana flair - but to me that's not a negative thing.

POLAND: One could argue this in large was a carbon copy of the 2004 movie. The costumes in particular, but also directing elements like including a sword fight in the Mausoleum scene. But the sets - oh, those beautiful sets! Also a wild chandelier crash.

SYDNEY HARBOUR: A really hard one to rank. The world's first outdoor production (ORIGINAL!), with sets looking like Bjørnson's design on steroids (not as original), with 1860s flair costumes (hello 2004 movie) with a dash of LND Australia (not as original), but then a flying gondola over burning water (ORIGINAL!), a huge cast (very RAH), and performing come rain or sunshine (ORIGINAL!). Something old, something new... But definitely a cool one for the Phantom portfolio!

RESTAGED TOUR: I was a bit in doubt on how to rank this one. I mean, the costume design is in large not new, it's Maria Bjørnson's costumes. But then new set design, new directing and new choreography. With various degrees of success. To me the most original idea is the drum set structure, and also some new magic tricks and added moments. I'm not loving the directing choices, as it makes both the Phantom and Raoul rather unloving candidates for Christine - why would she pick either of them? Also felt too much like a nod to Love Never Dies to appear truly original. So yeah, mostly for the sets.

HUNGARY and CZECH REPUBLIC: Whereas the productions themselves may not look the same, they both feel like two similar takes, to loving interpretations of the original, sticking to the same colour schemes and with a heavy Victorian flair. Directing wise they also feel like the same landscape. I appreciate both a lot, and especially Hungary has some clever ideas going on. I also loved how they picked Palais Garnier as a base - but totally different areas or angles of the Palais Garnier than what Bjørnson did. But if going purely by originality they don't move too far outside the box.

NEW ROMANIAN PRODUCTION: Nearly impossible to rank. AI design with some tweaks, which has resulted in a sort of amalgamated combo of all the non-replica production set design, with a sprinkle of Maria Bjørnson design on top. With some playing-card-odd costumes. Some visuals are stunning, some are very traditional, some are way out there. Yeah, I have no idea how to rank this one.

(and of course this is just my impression of them - have in mind that I've only seen three of them live, and if I see more of them in the future I may feel different about this ranking)

[urban-fleabag]

Hi... So... You responded to my post about my shift a little while ago and I was wondering if you could give me some tips on how to be more in touch with my theriotypes. I have a good idea on how to let myself be a cat, but I was wanting to know about my (Also recently discovered) wolf theriotype. Being a cat is easy, I've been doing it my whole life without realizing it and just need to be more open to it, but the wolf is a problem. I know that you're a coyote, and was wondering if you could give me tips about being a wild canine or if you have any other sites, communities, or other advice for me to figure it out myself. I've been researching wolf behavior, so I think that'll help.

You're definitely on the right path researching wolf behavior! That'll point you in the direction of what sorts of things will make you feel more like you and give you ideas on what to try out. For me, personally, vocalizations are pretty huge- that's a very Coyote Thing, but can apply to wolves too, howling is like, one of their Key Features.

I also highly recommend making your room your den and establishing a local territory- either just your back yard, or some local places you hang out. I find it helps a lot for me to think of home and work as parts of my territory, it helps me feel secure. Some people even go out and "claim" parts of local parks with howling/vocals and hanging out, but I haven't gotten the chance to do that yet.

If you're a gamer, I HIGHLY recommend Wolf Quest on the PC- one of my partners is a wolf and they're legitimately obsessed with the game and have been following its development for years. You play as a wolf in Yellowstone and you have a pack and raise pups, and I've heard really great things.

I also personally find that adding extra meat to your diet if you're so inclined can help you feel more at home. I need the extra protein anyways, so it was a major bonus for me, but really anything you can tear up with your teeth should be good. Make sure you're still attending to your human form's needs, but feel free to indulge. I also find oranges are a good treat to rip and gnaw on if you're not a fan of meats.

Some good media that might help you feel at home is a movie called Wolfwalkers (highly recommend even to a non therian tbh it's great), and Autumn J on YouTube makes a lot of alterhuman music including one specifically about wolves if you wanna give a listen! It always makes me feel shifty in a good way.

Unfortunately, I don't have a ton of sites or community based links, so I'll crowsource this one- I hope you don't mind me answering publicly. I will say, avoid the fuck out of TikTok. It's full of misinformation and gatekeeping, and generally just kind of a warped view of what therianthropy is. Feel free to check it out for gear and quads I guess, I've heard good things about quads but I can't do them due to my carpal tunnel and they're a newer thing afaik. Just don't rely on TikTok for informative stuff- it skews super young and overall isn't helpful for education, which is fine because it's an entertainment app.