#or haven't looked at an article that made the rounds

[imsobadatnicknames2]

How can you consider yourself any sort of leftist when you defend AI art bullshit? You literally simp for AI techbros and have the gall to pretend you're against big corporations?? Get fucked

I don't "defend" AI art. I think a particular old post of mine that a lot of people tend to read in bad faith must be making the rounds again lmao.

Took me a good while to reply to this because you know what? I decided to make something positive out of this and use this as an opportunity to outline what I ACTUALLY believe about AI art. If anyone seeing this decides to read it in good or bad faith... Welp, your choice I guess.

I have several criticisms of the way the proliferation of AI art generators and LLMs is making a lot of things worse. Some of these are things I have voiced in the past, some of these are things I haven't until now:

Most image and text AI generators are fine-tuned to produce nothing but the most agreeable, generically pretty content slop, pretty much immediately squandering their potential to be used as genuinely interesting artistic tools with anything to offer in terms of a unique aesthetic experience (AI video still manages to look bizarre and interesting but it's getting there too)

In the entertainment industry and a lot of other fields, AI image generation is getting incorporated into production pipelines in ways that lead to the immiseration of working artists, being used to justify either lower wages or straight-up layoffs, and this is something that needs to be fought against. That's why I unconditionally supported the SAG-AFTRA strikes last year and will unconditionally support any collective action to address AI art as a concrete labor issue

In most fields where it's being integrated, AI art is vastly inferior to human artists in any use case where you need anything other than to make a superficially pretty picture really fast. If you need to do anything like ask for revisions or minor corrections, give very specific descriptions of how objects and people are interacting with each other, or just like. generate several pictures of the same thing and have them stay consistent with each other, you NEED human artists and it's preposterous to think they can be replaced by AI.

There is a lot of art on the internet that consists of the most generically pretty, cookie-cutter anime waifu-adjacent slop that has zero artistic or emotional value to either the people seeing it or the person churning it out, and while this certainly was A Thing before the advent of AI art generators, generative AI has made it extremely easy to become the kind of person who churns it out and floods online art spaces with it.

Similarly, LLMs make it extremely easy to generate massive volumes of texts, pages, articles, listicles and what have you that are generic vapid SEO-friendly pap at best and bizzarre nonsense misinformation at worst, drowning useful information in a sea of vapid noise and rendering internet searches increasingly useless.

The way LLMs are being incorporated into customer service and similar services not only, again, encourages further immiseration of customer service workers, but it's also completely useless for most customers.

A very annoyingly vocal part the population of AI art enthusiasts, fanatics and promoters do tend to talk about it in a way that directly or indirectly demeans the merit and skill of human artists and implies that they think of anyone who sees anything worthwile in the process of creation itself rather than the end product as stupid or deluded.

So you can probably tell by now that I don't hold AI art or writing in very high regard. However (and here's the part that'll get me called an AI techbro, or get people telling me that I'm just jealous of REAL artists because I lack the drive to create art of my own, or whatever else) I do have some criticisms of the way people have been responding to it, and have voiced such criticisms in the past.

I think a lot of the opposition to AI art has critstallized around unexamined gut reactions, whipping up a moral panic, and pressure to outwardly display an acceptable level of disdain for it. And in particular I think this climate has made a lot of people very prone to either uncritically entertain and adopt regressive ideas about Intellectual Propety, OR reveal previously held regressive ideas about Intellectual Property that are now suddenly more socially acceptable to express:

(I wanna preface this section by stating that I'm a staunch intellectual property abolitionist for the same reason I'm a private property abolitionist. If you think the existence of intellectual property is a good thing, a lot of my ideas about a lot of stuff are gonna be unpalatable to you. Not much I can do about it.)

A lot of people are suddenly throwing their support behind any proposal that promises stricter copyright regulations to combat AI art, when a lot of these also have the potential to severely udnermine fair use laws and fuck over a lot of independent artist for the benefit of big companies.

It was very worrying to see a lot of fanfic authors in particular clap for the George R R Martin OpenAI lawsuit because well... a lot of them don't realize that fanfic is a hobby that's in a position that's VERY legally precarious at best, that legally speaking using someone else's characters in your fanfic is as much of a violation of copyright law as straight up stealing entire passages, and that any regulation that can be used against the latter can be extended against the former.

Similarly, a lot of artists were cheering for the lawsuit against AI art models trained to mimic the style of specific artists. Which I agree is an extremely scummy thing to do (just like a human artist making a living from ripping off someone else's work is also extremely scummy), but I don't think every scummy act necessarily needs to be punishable by law, and some of them would in fact leave people worse off if they were. All this to say: If you are an artist, and ESPECIALLY a fan artist, trust me. You DON'T wanna live in a world where there's precedent for people's artstyles to be considered intellectual property in any legally enforceable way. I know you wanna hurt AI art people but this is one avenue that's not worth it.

Especially worrying to me as an indie musician has been to see people mention the strict copyright laws of the music industry as a positive thing that they wanna emulate. "this would never happen in the music industry because they value their artists copyright" idk maybe this is a the grass is greener type of situation but I'm telling you, you DON'T wanna live in a world where copyright law in the visual arts world works the way it does in the music industry. It's not worth it.

I've seen at least one person compare AI art model training to music sampling and say "there's a reason why they cracked down on sampling" as if the death of sampling due to stricter copyright laws was a good thing and not literally one of the worst things to happen in the history of music which nearly destroyed several primarily black music genres. Of course this is anecdotal because it's just One Guy I Saw Once, but you can see what I mean about how uncritical support for copyright law as a tool against AI can lead people to adopt increasingly regressive ideas about copyright.

Similarly, I've seen at least one person go "you know what? Collages should be considered art theft too, fuck you" over an argument where someone else compared AI art to collages. Again, same point as above.

Similarly, I take issue with the way a lot of people seem EXTREMELY personally invested in proving AI art is Not Real Art. I not only find this discussion unproductive, but also similarly dangerously prone to validating very reactionary ideas about The Nature Of Art that shouldn't really be entertained. Also it's a discussion rife with intellectual dishonesty and unevenly applied definition and standards.

When a lot of people present the argument of AI art not being art because the definition of art is this and that, they try to pretend that this is the definition of art the've always operated under and believed in, even when a lot of the time it's blatantly obvious that they're constructing their definition on the spot and deliberately trying to do so in such a way that it doesn't include AI art.

They never succeed at it, btw. I've seen several dozen different "AI art isn't art because art is [definition]". I've seen exactly zero of those where trying to seriously apply that definition in any context outside of trying to prove AI art isn't art doesn't end up in it accidentally excluding one or more non-AI artforms, usually reflecting the author's blindspots with regard to the different forms of artistic expression.

(However, this is moot because, again, these are rarely definitions that these people actually believe in or adhere to outside of trying to win "Is AI art real art?" discussions.)

Especially worrying when the definition they construct is built around stuff like Effort or Skill or Dedication or The Divine Human Spirit. You would not be happy about the kinds of art that have traditionally been excluded from Real Art using similar definitions.

Seriously when everyone was celebrating that the Catholic Church came out to say AI art isn't real art and sharing it as if it was validating and not Extremely Worrying that the arguments they'd been using against AI art sounded nearly identical to things TradCaths believe I was like. Well alright :T You can make all the "I never thought I'd die fighting side by side with a catholic" legolas and gimli memes you want, but it won't change the fact that the argument being made by the catholic church was a profoundly conservative one and nearly identical to arguments used to dismiss the artistic merit of certain forms of "degenerate" art and everyone was just uncritically sharing it, completely unconcerned with what kind of worldview they were lending validity to by sharing it.

Remember when the discourse about the Gay Sex cats pic was going on? One of the things I remember the most from that time was when someone went "Tell me a definition of art that excludes this picture without also excluding Fountain by Duchamp" and how just. Literally no one was able to do it. A LOT of people tried to argue some variation of "Well, Fountain is art and this image isn't because what turns fountain into art is Intent. Duchamp's choice to show a urinal at an art gallery as if it was art confers it an element of artistic intent that this image lacks" when like. Didn't by that same logic OP's choice to post the image on tumblr as if it was art also confer it artistic intent in the same way? Didn't that argument actually kinda end up accidentally validating the artistic status of every piece of AI art ever posted on social media? That moment it clicked for me that a lot of these definitions require applying certain concepts extremely selectively in order to make sense for the people using them.

A lot of people also try to argue it isn't Real Art based on the fact that most AI art is vapid but like. If being vapid definitionally excludes something from being art you're going to have to exclude a whooole lot of stuff along with it. AI art is vapid. A lot of art is too, I don't think this argument works either.

Like, look, I'm not really invested in trying to argue in favor of The Artistic Merits of AI art but I also find it extremely hard to ignore how trying to categorically define AI art as Not Real Art not only is unproductive but also requires either a) applying certain parts of your definition of art extremely selectively, b) constructing a definition of art so convoluted and full of weird caveats as to be functionally useless, or c) validating extremely reactionary conservative ideas about what Real Art is.

Some stray thoughts that don't fit any of the above sections.

I've occassionally seen people respond to AI art being used for shitposts like "A lot of people have affordable commissions, you could have paid someone like $30 to draw this for you instead of using the plagiarism algorithm and exploiting the work of real artists" and sorry but if you consider paying an artist a rate that amounts to like $5 for several hours of work a LESS exploitative alternative I think you've got something fucked up going on with your priorities.

Also it's kinda funny when people comment on the aforementioned shitposts with some variation of "see, the usage of AI art robs it of all humor because the thing that makes shitposts funny is when you consider the fact that someone would spend so much time and effort in something so stupid" because like. Yeah that is part of the humor SOMETIMES but also people share and laugh at low effort shitposts all the time. Again you're constructing a definition that you don't actually believe in anywhere outside of this type of conversations. Just say you don't like that it's AI art because you think it's morally wrong and stop being disingenuous.

So yeah, this is pretty much everything I believe about the topic.

I don't "defend" AI art, but my opposition to it is firmly rooted in my principles, and that means I refuse to uncritically accept any anti-AI art argument that goes against those same principles.

If you think not accepting and parroting every Anti-AI art argument I encounter because some of them are ideologically rooted in things I disagree with makes me indistinguishable from "AI techbros" you're working under a fucked up dichotomy.

[odoraful]

𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄

during a gathering for the maisons in the court of fontaine, the newlywedded couple retire early to spend time at home together

⟡ content: neuvilette x fem!reader; introvert x introvert; calling each other husband and wife and other cute nicknames; reader saving neuvilette from social burnout; lots of kissing; very fluffy; possibly ooc neuvilette (still figuring out how to write him!)—he's much more open with his affections around reader; 2.4k words

⟡ a/n: craving some married couple dynamics and i thought neuvi was a perfect candidate for this :') i haven't written in almost a month so pardon my rustiness </3

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“It’s not like you to zone out Monsieur Neuvilette.”

Neuvilette’s gaze snapped back to the person in front of him—bemusement on their face. Whilst many others would have let their sheepishness show at being caught, Neuvilette’s features never faltered, returning a sensible smile.

He was conversing with someone from the Maison Cardinalice named Aimon. In fact, there were people from all four Maisons here at the ball. It was a semi-regular gathering held to promote friendly relations between the factions of the Court. Neuvilette believed he had a good grasp of the intricacies of political small talk among these events. The talks were cordial and productive, and he made his due diligence to circle the foyer of the Opera Epiclese enough times to be introduced, and reintroduced, to interested parties. However, mid-way through these rounds, he found that the ornament woven in his hair felt heavier than usual, and his thick robes seemed to drag his body down with each conversation he entered and left. Despite this, he maintained his composure. He had a role to fulfil after all.

“My apologies, I was simply taken by the view here.”

He glanced out again past the open doors of the Opera Epiclese.

White light of the foyer’s interior flooded into the darkness of the night, causing the streams of water in the Fountain of Lucine to shimmer like crystals. Near the doors, some members of the ball had taken to conversing in the cool night air.

The representative from the Cardinalice shook their head in astonishment.

“Even after all your time here, you still find such novelty in the landmarks of the city,” they sighed.

Turning to follow where Neuvilette had been looking, they tried to discern what beauty he saw in this place that they passed almost every day. Realisation hit them almost immediately at what, or rather who, had distracted the Iudex.

One of the people who had taken respite in the open night air was you.

It was hard for one to take their eyes away at the figure draped in gold fabric, hugging their body just so. The ruffled hem of the dress was long enough to hit the floor, leaving a small train of what appeared to be molten gold in the trick of the light. Carefully embroidered vines and leaves in yellow thread trailed from the bodice to the skirt. Tulle-like material lined the sweetheart neck, showcasing the pearl necklace at your collarbones and extending to drape delicately past the curves of the shoulders.

You were in the company of some of the gestionnaires from the Palais Mermonia, listening attentively. Your covered your mouth with a hand, laughing at something being said. Neuvilette could imagine the lilt of your voice as you spoke with the others around you.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Aimon began, “how fares the move for Fontaine’s newly wed couple?”

Neuvilette hummed, a low timbre brimming with affection.

He was not one to announce personal affairs, but no amount of privacy could prevent the news of the Chief Justice getting married from going public. Of course, the people of Fontaine were captivated by the romantic story of someone finally catching the eye of the “solitary workaholic” (as many of the news articles released described him to be). It sounded exactly like something out of a play. Quietly, he enjoyed when people brought it up in conversation, since it gave him a chance to talk about you, after all. He loved the way the title rolled off his tongue when he called you his wife.

“My wife and I have been settling into our new home well,” he replied, revitalised by the change of topic. “We have finished with all our furnishings-”

“Ah!” the exclamation from Aimon almost made him jump. “Monsieur, I must introduce you to the latest addition to our Maison. I think you would quite like him.”

They flapped their hand at someone from outside, gesturing them to come in.

More introductions. Inwardly, Neuvilette sighed, though there was only politeness shown on his face.

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Unbeknownst to Neuvilette, his weariness had begun to manifest in the sky above. What had been a clear night had now turned overcast. Dense clouds obscured the moon. The people around you looked curiously at the sky.

“How fickle the weather can be,” someone tutted.

You knew that such a sudden change could only mean one thing.

Rather than look to the sky, your eyes instead sought your husband. At the entrance of the Opera, you could see Neuvilette speaking with two others, his silhouette back lit by light. Excusing yourself from the people you were with, you lifted the hem of your skirt and walked briskly over. The voice of Aimon grew louder as you drew nearer. You paid half an ear to their discussion, your attention directed at Neuvilette’s rigid posture and passive expression.

His senses tingled as you approached his side. The delicate sweetness of your perfume comforted him. After admiring you from a distance for much of the ball, his lips now parted seeing you up close. Even with how long you have spent with each other, he became more enamoured by you with every passing day.

“Apologies for my interruption.”

Your words cut through the conversation, immediately quietening Aimon. You lay a hand on Neuvilette, squeezing his shoulder lightly. You felt his body ease under your touch.

“But may I speak to my husband?”

“Mademoiselle.” Aimon tipped his head in greeting. “Why of course. We will take out leave.”

You curtsied in thanks, watching as the two Cardinalice members hurried away further into the foyer.

Neuvilette’s hand hovered over your waist. Momentarily, he thought about pulling you close, until he could trace every thread of the embroidered pattern on your bodice under his fingertips and memorise its shape. It pained him to resist an action like this, but he was a gentleman, and it would be improper to do something like that in a public space. Instead, he subtly gestured towards the edge of the room as a place to talk without, hopefully, being interrupted.

“My dear, is everything alright?”

The concern on his face melted your heart.

“Everything is quite alright with me, but I’m not sure I can say the same for you.”

You covered the side of your mouth that could be viewed by others. “It’s okay if you’re tired of this ball,” you whispered.

His face fell to relief that something bad had not happened to you.

“Thank you for your concern, dear, but as head of the Ordalie, it is my duty to be here and connect with the other Maisons.” The words came out of him almost robotically, betraying the tiredness that weighed his body and pleaded for him to rest.

“It may well be, but I don’t want to see you collapsing the next time someone wants to speak to you,” you insisted.

He rubbed his temple with his finger and thumb. Neuvilette couldn’t argue with that. It was true. How good of a Chief Justice could he be if he was too exhausted to properly fulfil his duties? At the thought of leaving early, his mind wandered to how the two of you would cuddle before bed, tucked beneath the quilts, enveloped by homeliness. Maybe it was best to listen to your advice.

“Are you alright to retire for the night as well, then?” he asked.

“Archons, yes,” you blurted out. “The gestionnaires are lovely company, but if I had the choice between hearing the amount of paperwork required to replace a keycap from them again, or to return to my abode with my husband, I think my answer would hardly surprise you.”

He laughed at your candour. “I will not let you say anything untoward about the Maison Gestion for I admire their tenacity. However, even I must admit that that may not the most riveting conversation to be apart of.”

Neuvilette extended a hand out towards you.

“Shall we depart then?”

You nodded fervently. Moving to his side, you both took a turn around the foyer, saying your necessary goodbyes to the heads of the Maisons. They gave saddened responses to his early departure, but respected the couple’s wishes. Though, you and Neuvilette considered being out at a quarter-past-nine at night to already be quite late.

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The two of you entered you home with a relieved sigh, slipping off your shoes and leaving them on the rack by the door. Though the slight clutter of your living room—pillows askew on the sofa, blankets draped on chairs, handmade ceramic trinkets dotted in spaces around the room—was far from the pristine foyer of the Opera, you much preferred it. Automatically, you and Neuvilette headed upstairs to the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to unwind for the night.

Looking at your reflection, you took your necklace and earrings off, returning them back to their velvet boxes. Behind you in the mirror, your husband’s hair began to get tangled in the clip of his feathered ornament. He let out a frustrated huff. It was certainly cute to see someone as accomplished as the Iudex have such a sulky look on his face. Wordlessly, you walked over to his side and tapped his hands away. At your signal of aid, Neuvilette sat down on the bed, allowing you to reach his head. His eyes were glued to your focused expression, how careful you were trying to be to not hurt him. Your fingers delicately removed the hair piece, and you smoothed his hair to tidy it up.

As he stood up to take off his robes, he felt your hands tug at the sleeves, helping him to undress. Neuvilette opened his mouth to protest, to tell you that you needn’t worry about him, that you should go and wash up first. Knowing your husband for so long, you sensed these words and spoke before him.

”I know being Chief Justice is an intensive role, but please don’t push yourself too hard.”

Such a gentle request from his wife almost made him fall to his knees. It was act of care that seemed magnified now that you were married. Neuvilette managed to, incredibly, maintain his balance as you worked to unbutton his vest.

“You are not an unfeeling Gardemek who can stand for hours without tumbling over,” you pouted, fumbling at his buttons.

The Chief Justice took his position seriously, sparing no feelings in a trial. It was a job needed to be done faithfully to best help the people of Fontaine. That sense of responsibility he had was something you held great pride in, but not when it took a toll on his mind and body. Especially when the emotions he held like a still body of water began to ripple and swirl behind the curtains of the courtroom.

“I will heed your words,” he nodded. “In any case, you seem to be swooping in to my rescue a few times tonight.”

You grinned. “I would gladly rescue you whenever you need, party-related or otherwise.”

Neuvilette stared fondly at his wife, slipping off his vest and folding it neatly. Perhaps it was the after effects of the honeymoon period, but the domesticity of this moment flared something inside him.

Before you could move to the closet on the opposite side of the room, he circled a hand around your waist. His touch stopping you from walking away. You cocked your head to the side, curiously.

“Truly, you have my thanks.”

Swiftly, you were pulled close to him. Neuvilette ran a fingertip along the edges of the leaves stitched onto your bodice, finally feeling each thread. You squirmed slightly—each drag of his finger leaving a tickling sensation at your waist. The composed air he maintained for most hours of the day came undone before you. Left wearing only his loose white shirt and black pants, his tousled hair fell down his back and the glow from the bedroom’s lantern reflected desire in his indigo eyes.

Leaning closer still, his warm breath caressed your face as his lips met your forehead first. The movement excruciatingly slow. Each press of his lips lingered for a second longer that you could even feel the most minute shifts in his face. Continuing, he trailed feather-like kisses down your temples.

“Mm, what’s this for?” you asked, more breathless than you anticipated.

Neuvilette hummed for a moment.

“My intentions are two fold. One-” he accentuated the word with a kiss on your cheek, “-as appreciation for helping me tonight, and two-” he placed another on the opposite side, “-as recompense for not admiring you properly at the ball.”

There was always a flutter in your stomach when he kissed you, but the way your breath caught in your throat felt like this was the very first time. He was completely lost in his affection as he moved down to your jawline and neck—soft lips meeting your quickening pulse. A small gasp escaped you at the contact, and the smile that drew across his lips was unmistakable against your skin. The folded vest slipped from your hand and crumpled on the floor. He would deal with the creases in his uniform in the morning. For now, it would make a satisfactory sacrifice for this chance to cherish you.

Grasping at Neuvilette’s shirt sleeve instead, he switched positions, cornering you on the edge of the bed. He focused his attention on the dip in your collarbone—a sensitive spot that made you shiver at the contact. The sensation was too inviting not resist. Your legs could no longer hold yourself steady, as you tumbled down to sit. Hands opposite sides of your body, your husband had subtly caged you in as he pulled away to look at your face.

“You look divine, my dear.” His voice was low, reverberating in your ears.

“As do you. Though I believe that adjective is a given-” you poked at his cheek with a finger “-for a Sovereign such as yourself.”

Red tinged his ears, an obvious contrast against his pale skin. He breathed a laugh at your comment, always quick to return a compliment to him.

The clouds had long since dissipated, showcasing the moon in its clarity. The attendants at the Opera briefly paused their chatter to once again admire the twinkling sky. A few of them sighed, commenting disappointedly how the Chief Justice and his wife had missed the splendour of the night.

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[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Five More Games

Batter Up Chapter 3

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: You haven't seen your boyfriend in over two weeks, your longing for Joel interrupts a FaceTime session. Warnings: smut, baseball talk, FaceTime mutual masturbation, pining, softness, Joel cum's all over his stomach Words: 3,000 A/N: These two have previously appeared together in 18 Seasons and Golden Corral. I wanted to write something super self indulgent to celebrate the month anniversary of posting my first fic Golden Walkway on here. I also want to shout out two people who helped me in this whole writing process. @ohheypedrito for being my steadfast fellow obsessor and idea bouncer offer and @justagalwhowrites for her very sweet response when I asked for words of advice that ultimately made me take the big step to hitting post.

Masterlist Series Masterlist Playlist

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Joel has internally struggled this season:  unhappy with his new team, unhappy with his new city, unhappy with the game he loved. Unfamiliar fans, unfamiliar apartment, unfamiliar restaurants, unfamiliar grocery store. The only familiar thing for Joel is you, taking the train down to the city whenever you can, staying in his aforementioned unfamiliar apartment making it seem more like home. You of course knew you couldn’t go to any of his games and openly root for him, but you were happy to watch the game on his couch in his new home, welcoming him back with a hug, smelling the sweat of the game still on him… Joel always far too impatient to shower at the stadium, too excited to get back to you. 

The two of you stuck together living a secret nobody knew about, the two of you never admitting the love you had for each other was growing into something loud enough that soon everybody would hear. What would your dad think? What would Joel’s old teammates think? What would his agent think? What would your coworkers think? What would Sarah think? 

For eight months you and Joel have done this alone, the only people privy to your relationship is whomever might look over at him placing his hand on your thigh at a restaurant, a couple of close friends of yours, and maybe the doorman of Joel’s apartment building delivering packages addressed to you. No, you didn’t want to live in this lie, but to stay with Joel and know him like you do, all of the struggles were worth it.

When he got off the call letting him know that the Philadelphia Liberties signed him to a one year deal, Joel didn’t call his daughter, he didn’t call his brother… he called you. Playing in Philly meant he would only be an hour and a half train ride away. How many more times could you make empty excuses as to why you needed to fly back home to Texas? He knew the toll it was taking on you personally and professionally, he couldn’t give you up, but he also couldn’t live with himself always seeing how tired you were as you stepped out of the airport and into his car. 

The worst part of all of this… Joel was having one of the best seasons of his career. Articles and reporters all repeating over and over how at his age he was having a banner year. Joel loved a challenge and he loved to take his frustrations to the field, playing harder and more focused than ever. 

He wanted to share his accomplishments with you, publicly. He wanted to see you as a part of the wives and girlfriends group, knowing how much you’d stick out against all of the preened and fancy clothed wives, never understanding why they dressed up the way they did to watch a ball game in the Summer heat. He wanted to see you cheering louder than anyone else as he rounded the bases after hitting a home run. He wanted his teammates to tease him for having a picture of you taped up in his locker. He wanted to see you waiting for him in the tunnel after the game wearing his jersey. He wanted to be able to call you his to anyone who’d listen. 

He hadn’t had a serious girlfriend in almost twenty years. Once Sarah’s mom left, he gave up dating and significant others to focus on the game and being a dad. Maybe there was just never anybody worth it, but you? You were worth it, and he hated that he couldn’t show everyone how much he loved you. 

——

“Next week’s the All Star Game, you still able to head home?” Joel asks as he watches you change into one of his old Capitals shirts you took as a sleep shirt. 

He loves FaceTime. For years he rolled his eyes at the idea of having to look at who’s he’s talking to… until he learned he can watch you go through your nightly routine in your bedroom. Now he gets to watch you apply your face lotion, feeling a bit like a voyeur looking in on your world from your MacBook screen. He especially likes FaceTime when you angle the laptop on the bed to show him your body as you make yourself cum while chanting his name and how much you miss him. 

“Yeah, so far so good. Can’t believe we’re doing this, especially seeing as you’re in the actual game and we’re letting everybody know the night before. What happens if it’s not good and it affects your g—” 

“I’ll be fine no matter what. It has to be done, I don’t know how many times I can tell Sarah my agent is texting. I think she knows something’s up, she’s too smart, she knows I don’t have friends,” he sighs. “How do you think your parents are gonna take it?”

“I think my mom will be cool with it, she always liked you, especially because of Sarah. My dad? I don’t know, I think he’ll be fine but I also think he’ll have a lot of reservations about us and how it’ll look once everyone finds out. He’s going to drop some business words and worry how it might end up as tabloid fodder amongst baseball people, and I fully understand his issues.” You get into your bed, moving the computer to lay next to you, Joel’s face and broad shoulders taking up most of the screen, it’s such a pitiful replacement to having his warm body next to you. “I don’t know, I wish we could just not do this but be able to do everything like normal people.” 

“There’s nothing normal about this, I’m in a hotel room in Seattle and I just got done eating $45 grilled chicken and brown rice from room service. You just closed your blinds with a remote in your apartment with a view of Central Park. We’re not a normal couple sweetheart,” Joel gives you his reassuring smile, his dimple pressing into his skin, you wish you could touch it. God, you miss him.

“I know, I just wish things could be more simple.” 

“I know baby, me too,” his smile faltering as he hears the longing in your voice. 

“I think I just really miss you… it’s been almost two weeks.”

“It has, we’ll be together soon. Just have to wait six more days.”

“Five more games,” you whisper. 

The two of you always finding it easier to break it down in games. Only 45 innings.  Only five trips for Joel to step on the team bus and head to the ballpark. Only five games worth of you checking your phone for updates.

“Five more games,” Joel’s voice dropping. “You able to watch tomorrow?”

“Don’t think so,” you try not to let the disappointment in your voice show as much as it does. “I have that dinner with the group in from Toronto. I’m hoping I’ll be home around 9, and the game starts at 4 there… I guess I might be able to see maybe the last couple of innings.”

“Mm, pretty sure I’m just DHing tomorrow, so should be in for the whole game.”

“Save your home run for the last inning please.” 

“‘Course,” he smirks. “I’ll swing for the fences.” 

“Joel—“ you whisper out.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“I wish you were here right now.”

“Me too, your bed’s always so comfortable. Sick of these hotel beds.”

You bring the neck of Joel’s shirt up to your nose and inhale. “Your shirt no longer smells like you, I need a new one.” 

“I’ll have one for you next time baby. I won’t take this one off.” 

“You can take it off now.”

“Yeah? Why do you want me to take it off?” Joel’s eyes get darker. 

“I want to look at you while I touch myself, so take it off.”

“Love how bossy you get.”

“Preaching to the choir.”

“Very funny,” he leans forward, pushing his laptop farther down the desk to give you a better view and removes his shirt. 

The two of you are well versed in the proper set up to have this type of experience over FaceTime. No bright lamp behind you because your body will be blown out by the light. Make sure you angle the screen the right way at the right distance so you can still see each other’s faces and bodies. Joel usually chooses to stay on the couch or in an office chair when he’s in a hotel room, allowing him to sit up and jerk himself off while he can still watch you. You always place your laptop on his side of your bed, laying diagonally across it so he can watch you touch your pussy while staring at the screen. 

You love seeing him shirtless, the way his body fills out in all of the most broad and right places. His shoulders are so wide and muscular, connecting to his toned and strong arms, his muscles never being overbearing and huge, just the perfect size and super capable of hitting a ball over 250 feet. The smattering of hair across his chest trailing down his stomach to the waistband of his shorts. His stomach, you’re obsessed with his stomach, it’s so soft, your favorite feeling on earth is laying your head against it. The perfect amount of softness filling out his athletic midsection. Joel’s body perfectly encompasses him, soft and rugged, broad and safe. 

“You’re staring again sweetheart,” Joel’s voice blinks you out of your daze as you ogle the square of him on your screen. 

“Sorry, I just really like looking at you.”

“I know, and I like looking at you.” Joel leans back, placing one of his arms behind the couch, his other hand resting against his thigh. “Now, let me really see you. Take m’shirt off.” 

You nod and move your laptop to its customary location so Joel can see all of you. You take his shirt off leaving you bare for his eyes to roam across your body from over two thousand miles away.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, wish I could rub my hands all over your soft skin. Wish I could smell your hair, wish I could taste your skin. Miss you so fucking much.”

“What would you do to me if you were here?” Your voice barely above a whisper, your body aching for his touch.

“I’d rub my tongue up and down your neck,” you move your fingers to your neck and begin to trail them across it copying Joel’s words. You close your eyes and pretend instead of hearing Joel’s voice coming from a tinny set of computer speakers you’re hearing him from across the bed before he touches you. 

“I’d move my mouth down to take one of your nipples into my mouth.” Your hand grazes down your body to one of your breasts, grabbing your nipple and pulling at it. 

“Fuck baby, yes, grab your other tit, play with ‘em,” you open your eyes at the gruffness of Joel’s voice. His hand is still behind the couch, the other has moved from his thigh to cup his half hard cock through his shorts. 

You begin to push and pull your tits apart and together, rubbing your nipples as you stare back at Joel holding eye contact through the computer.

“Looks like your pussy is drooling all over your sheets, lemme see how wet you are.”  

Your hand goes down in between your legs, you pet yourself making sure to bite your lip, something you know Joel likes as you touch yourself. A groan spills out of Joel’s mouth as he watches you bring your soaked hand up, spreading your fingers to show him how your wetness stretches across your digits. He angles himself up to pull his shorts down, his cock standing hard and solid, you can’t take your eyes off of it as his hand wraps around his length. He begins to stroke himself, as you put your hand back to play with yourself. 

“Wish you could smear yourself all over me and watch me jerk off, wish you would spit in my hand—,” Joel spits in his hand, “so I could fuck my hand until I cum all over your pretty face.” 

Your back arches as you watch Joel lick a bit of spit up from his bottom lip, his eyebrows wrinkled in concentration as he smears the spit all over his shaft and begins pumping. 

“You’re so pretty, god I miss you. I miss feeling your body pressed against me, I miss sucking your tits, I miss fucking you.” You can’t stop staring at the screen, your fingers paused and resting on your clit. He’s beautiful, the way his muscles in his arms tense as he strokes himself, the way he snarls as he twists his fist around the head, the way he can’t stop staring at you through his laptop screen. “You miss me babygirl?”

He knows what his words do to you, he knows that if he can’t touch you he can at least talk you through it. He’s so thoughtful, not stopping at anything to make you happy, to think about you, to care for you. You hate that you aren’t even close enough to be in the same time zone.

“Yes,” you whisper, if you were any louder you might just start to cry. “So much.”

“I know, I know, fuck,” Joel stops jerking himself off, “I know,” blinking the lust out of his eyes, his big brown concerned eyes planted on his screen. “You okay?”

You didn’t want to do this, you wanted to get off with your boyfriend, shut your laptop lid, and go to sleep. Now? Now you miss him so much you’re naked with your hand still in between your legs and sniffling away tears alone in your bed.

“I am, yeah, I will be. I’m sorry, it just really hit me how long it’s been and I guess I’m just nervous about everything we have to do. I don’t want to lose you…” and at those words and the fear that gets planted inside your heart, you pull your fingers away from your cunt.

“We’re going to figure it out sweetheart. M’not losing you.” Joel follows you and unwraps his hand from around himself. “It has been long, but we’ll have almost a week together next week.”

“Five games?”

“Five games.” The softness of his voice and the reassuring smile he gives makes your stomach twist.

“I’m sorry.” An apology, you’re almost embarrassed by your juvenility, missing your boyfriend so much you almost started to cry.

“Baby, you don’t have to apologize, believe me, I understand.”

“Did you still want to…”

“I’m only happy doing what you want to, sweetheart.”

“I want to show you how much I miss you.” Your hand snakes up your body to start petting the area between your breasts, the place where Joel always like to nuzzle his face in and smell your skin.

“Fuck, okay sweetheart.”

“Five more games until I can feel you inside me.”

“Jesus, getting right back to the point, aren’t we?” He smirks, his eyes follow as you snake your hand down to back in between your legs.

“I’m efficient,” you bend your knee to give Joel a better look as you begin to rub circles along your clit.

“Fuck sweetheart, you look so fucking good,” he groans, wrapping his hand back around his cock. “Fuck yourself with your fingers baby, pretend it’s me.” 

You moan as you stick two fingers in, slowly pushing them in and out, ignoring how poor of a substitute they are for Joel’s cock. 

“Good girl, look at you. My pretty baby, I love you so much.”

His eyes soften as he watches you get lost in fucking yourself. You love how you can tell just how much he loves you by his big, brown eyes, even on your small laptop screen they shine bright. 

“I love you,” you whimper as you reach your other hand down to begin rubbing your clit. Your fingers working overtime inside you and on your clit causing your orgasm to build. 

“Love you baby, so much. Love watching you do this for me,” he grunts as he fucks his fist faster.

“Baaaby,” you breathe out, your heart beginning to rapidly beat, the swirls around your clit quickening. You’re a quivering mess on your bed, staring into your computer screen as you feel your orgasm show. 

“Oh, you’re close, can see it pretty girl, you gonna cum for me? M’gonna cum for you,” he grits out as you watch the hand against his thigh tighten its grip against his skin. He’s close, his jaw going slack, his tongue resting in between his lips, his brows furrowing deeper. It’s a sight you’ve seen so many times now, most of your FaceTime sessions ending like this.

“Cum for me,” you whisper as you orgasm, your pussy squeezes your fingers, your clit pulses against your finger, you fight the urge to shut your eyes because you need to watch Joel as he begins to spurt thick ropes of cum all over his stomach. You love how he looks, biting out swears totally blissed out, his cum pooling against the plush skin of his stomach. 

He swears as he grabs his shirt and cleans himself up, you smile as you watch him, feeling like you’re spying on your own boyfriend. You love FaceTime.

“You’re smilin’ quite big,” he chuckles as he tosses his shirt next to him, and pulls his shorts back up. 

“I like to watch you, that’s all, you’re so handsome.”

“Handsome, hm?”

“Yep, always thought it, and now I get to look at you whenever I want to.”

“Lucky you, huh?”

“Lucky me. Only five more games until I see my handsome boyfriend.”

“Five more games.”

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Series Masterlist

[ofmdrecaps]

08/18-19/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Taika Waititi; GalaxyCon SanJose: Vico, Con, Kristian, Nathan; Leslie Jones; Madeleine Sami; Connor Barrett; Tell Tale TV Poll; Fan Spotlight: BairNecessities Affirmation Cards; Our Flag Means Fanfiction; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika.

== David Jenkins ==

Davi's sharing more love for our crewmates and their dedication to OFMD. @smolbus, you're right hon, there is always hope! Ty for sharing your ink!

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

== Taika Waititi ==

More birthday shenanigans for Taika and Rita!

Source: Rita Ora's Instagram

Annnnd More Time Bandits Articles! This week Taika's gonna be in quite a bit of the final episodes it looks like!

Image Sources: The Taika Archives Twitter

= GalaxyCon San Jose: Vico, Con, Kristian, Nathan =

These four had such a lovely time in San Jose, and so did so many of our crewmates!! The cast was kind enough to post lots of pictures of the convention! Hope yall had fun! Please feel free to share your pics/stories!

Source: Kristian Nairn's Instagram

Source: Vico's Instagram

Nathan was out with Harvey Guillen and lots of other friends at the Winchester Mystery House while out in San Jose!

Source: Nathan Foad's Instagram Stories

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie's going to be doing another stand up tour-- coming up Sept 29 you can see her at the Because They're Funny Comedy Festival at The Wharf in Washington D.C.! Learn more on their website!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by BECAUSE THEY’RE FUNNY- BTF (Property of NICE CROWD) (@becausetheyrefunny)

Source: BecauseTheyreFunny Instagram

== Madeleine Sami ==

Nice to see Madeleine was out with the ladies of Deadloch at the 2024 TV Week Logie Awards!

Source: Prime Video AUNZ's Instagram

== Connor Barrett ==

Our beloved Hornberry out and about watching Angel City FC!

Source: Connor's Instagram

== Tell Tale TV Votes ==

Our dear friends over at @adoptourcrew are keeping us appraised of Tell Tale TV's new polls! You can vote for Ed and Stede for Category 3: Ship of the Year (Comedy or Animated Series)! While you're there if you want to help support some other queer shows, What We Do In The Shadows - Nandor and Guillermo are up in Ship You'd Most Like to See Sail (Round 1)!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= BairNecessities =

Back again tonight is the kindest soul, Mik, aka bairnecessities! Her OFMD Affirmation cards continue to make me smile every time I look at them! Did any of you get to stop by her table this past weekend at GalaxyCon San Jose? If you didn't get to you can check out her shop/follow her on the various socials here: Instagram / Twitter / Linktr.ee / Etsy

First up is probably my favorite card from her S2 Deck:

The next two are from her secondary character expansion! I adore that we get Alma and Louis in there, and even Doug NoLastName and Jeffrey Fettering get a spotlight with wonderful messages for all of us!

Mik does other series too aside from OFMD (like Good Omens, and Helluva Boss!) You can check them out on her instagram below!

Source: Bearnecessities Instagram

= Our Flag Means Fanfiction =

New Epitizer this week from our good friends over at Our Flag Means Fanfiction. Seriously, the amount of content they put out, keeping us all engaged is amazing. If you haven't given them a listen or a follow please do! You can check out the new "when life gives you lemons" on their linktree!

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies, I hope your Monday started your week off well <3 As I'm sitting here typing this I have my son asleep under one arm, so I apologize if this is a bit scattered. I saw this infographic today and it made me think of you all. I don't know about you, but I spent a lot of my life thinking I had to do everything, excel at everything, have all the money, and the car, and the house, and the kids, etc. But you know what? Life isn't about having everything. It's about finding the things you love and matter most to you and focusing on them. The things that matter most to me will absolutely be different from everyone else (we may share some of the same) but no two people are exactly the same when it comes to interests, and thats beautiful. Dig deep into the things you love crew, and remember you don't have to feel any shame for the things that mean the most to you. Do you like video games? Or Ornithology? How about fanfiction? Or maybe Indy 500 races? Do you find joy when you're alone in the woods? Or sitting out with friends at a bar? Do you enjoy being alone? Or maybe you love to sing your heart out at karaoke? Whatever it is you love-- embrace it, whether it's "Weird" by someone else's standards or not. If it makes you smile, if it makes you enjoy your time on this little blue dot-- dive in lovelies, with no regrets. I so very hope that even if it's only little bits at a time this week you get to spend doing the things you love, whatever that may be. Rest well and drink some water tonight <3 Love you crew

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The New Happy® (@newhappyco)

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Happy Murray Monday, and Taika Tuesday everyone! Tonight's gifs are courtesy of @fandomsmeantheworldtome and @meluli, thank you so much for keeping us well fed with fantastic gifs of our favorite folks <3 You are doing Calypso's work my friends.

[zapreportsblog]

Hello. I hope I'm not disturbing you. Your articles about the Volturi are really great. If you accept request. Can you write poly yandere volturi kings and female soulmate reader? Please

❝please don’t take our sunshine away❞

✭ pairing : yandere poly volturi kings x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) has always been a ray of sunshine, it didn’t matter if she was having a bad day or what she had a habit of making others around her feel uncontrollable happiness but sometimes that happiness comes with a price

✭ twilight masterlist 2

(Y/N) had always been known for her infectious happiness. From the earliest days of her life, her parents could hardly recall a moment when she wasn't giggling or blabbering away to anyone who crossed her path, even if she couldn't understand a word they were saying in return. Her bright, ever-present smile seemed like a permanent fixture on her face as she grew up, and it was a source of joy for everyone who knew her.

One crisp autumn evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the town square, (Y/N) decided to take a leisurely stroll. Her heart was light, and she hummed a tune she had heard earlier in the day. It was just another ordinary evening in her ordinary life, filled with extraordinary happiness.

But tonight, fate had something unexpected in store for her. As she rounded a corner, she collided with a tall figure, causing both of them to stumble back. (Y/N) quickly regained her balance, her ever-present smile still firmly in place. However, when she looked at the person she had bumped into, her smile faltered for the first time in as long as she could remember.

It was Marcus, a man who was a familiar face in the town but known for entirely different reasons. Marcus was a solitary figure, often seen on late-night strolls, and he always carried an air of sadness about him. His eyes, once bright, seemed dull, and the weight of the world appeared to rest upon his shoulders.

Without a word, (Y/N) made an impulsive decision. Instead of offering a quick apology and continuing on her way, she fell into step beside Marcus, matching his slow, deliberate pace. For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was palpable, but (Y/N) didn't mind. She had always believed that sometimes, company didn't need words.

It wasn't until they reached the center of the town square, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, that Marcus finally broke the silence. He turned to (Y/N) and asked, "Why are you following me?"

(Y/N) looked up at him, her smile returning. "I'm not following you. I'm just keeping you company."

He seemed taken aback by her response. "But I haven't said a word since you joined me. Why would you want to be with someone who's so...silent?"

She shrugged, her eyes reflecting the warmth of the lamplight. "Sometimes, silence is the best company of all. And everyone needs a little company sometimes, even if it's just silent company."

Marcus didn't respond immediately, but (Y/N) could see a glimmer of something in his eyes—a spark of recognition, perhaps. It was a simple encounter, an unexpected meeting between two very different people, but it was a moment that had the potential to change both of their lives in ways they couldn't yet imagine.

As they stood there in the quiet of the town square, (Y/N) and Marcus, the happy and the sad, the talkative and the silent, found themselves sharing a moment of understanding that transcended words.

As the days passed, it became a familiar sight to see Marcus and (Y/N) walking together through the town. What had started as an unexpected encounter had evolved into a quiet companionship. Marcus, once known for his silence, began to open up to (Y/N) little by little. They talked about the weather, the changing seasons, and the happenings in the town.

One chilly evening, as they strolled along a cobblestone path, (Y/N) turned to Marcus with a gentle smile and asked, "What's been weighing on your heart, Marcus? You've been carrying a sadness that's hard to miss. Is there something you'd like to share?"

Marcus hesitated for a moment, then let out a long sigh. "It's nearing the anniversary of when I lost my wife," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every year, this time brings back the memories, and it's hard to bear."

(Y/N)'s face softened with empathy, and she frowned. Without hesitation, she stepped closer to Marcus and wrapped her arms around him in a warm, comforting hug. Marcus was taken aback by the sudden gesture of affection, his undead heart skipping a beat at her unexpected warmth.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Marcus," (Y/N) whispered, her voice filled with genuine sympathy. "It's always hard losing those we love most. But always remember that they're by your side and in your heart at all times. You're never truly alone. Sure, they aren't here physically, but mentally and spiritually, they'll never depart you."

As (Y/N) pulled away from the hug, she met Marcus's gaze with a reassuring smile. But something in that smile caused Marcus's eyes to widen, a spark of intensity flickering within them. It was a momentary shift, a subtle change that (Y/N) might have brushed off as a trick of the light if she had been anyone else.

But Marcus was not just anyone. Unbeknownst to (Y/N), the warmth she had shown him, the understanding, and the empathy had awakened something deep within him. A possessive desire, a yearning for her companionship that bordered on obsession. It was a dangerous path that Marcus had unknowingly started down, one that would lead him to protect (Y/N) at all costs, even if it meant losing himself in the process.

As they continued their walk, the night around them seemed to grow darker, and the bond between Marcus and (Y/N) deepened, setting the stage for a connection that would become increasingly intense and complex in the days to come.

The small town had its share of curious residents, and one of the most inquisitive was Aro. He had noticed the change in Marcus's routine—no longer was he the solitary figure wandering the town's streets in the late hours. Instead, Marcus had been frequently spotted with (Y/N), a happy and talkative presence by his side.

One evening, Aro decided to approach Marcus as he was leaving his home. "Marcus," he called out, his voice polite but laced with curiosity. "I couldn't help but notice you've been spending a lot of time with a human lately. Any particular reason for your late-night strolls together?"

Marcus turned to Aro, his expression suddenly cold and distant. "Why do you care?" he replied tersely, his tone devoid of its usual politeness.

Taken aback by Marcus's sharp response, Aro stammered, "I was just curious, Marcus. No need to be so defensive."

But Marcus didn't offer any further explanation. Instead, he turned away and walked off into the night, leaving Aro standing there, perplexed by his friend's unusual behavior.

Aro couldn't shake off the feeling that something had changed in Marcus, something that went beyond the surface. Determined to find out more, he made a quick decision. He signaled to Demetri, a loyal friend who had a knack for discreetly following people, and quietly instructed him to tail Marcus without being noticed.

As Demetri blended into the shadows and followed Marcus at a safe distance, Aro couldn't help but wonder what secrets his darling brother might be hiding and what had caused this sudden shift in his demeanor.

Demetri returned to Aro with his findings, delivering a report in hushed tones as they stood in the dimly lit streets of the town. His observations were clear and concise, painting a picture of Marcus's growing attachment to (Y/N).

"It's unmistakable, Aro," Demetri whispered, his eyes cautious. "Marcus is falling in love with (Y/N). Their connection goes beyond mere companionship. He watches her with an intensity I've never seen in him before."

Aro's features hardened at the revelation. Love, in the vampire world, was a dangerous and forbidden emotion. It made their kind vulnerable, and Aro was determined to protect his coven's secrets at all costs. He couldn't allow Marcus to jeopardize everything they had built.

One night, when Marcus was occupied with a task away from the town, Aro made a chilling decision. He would confront (Y/N) and eliminate the threat she posed to their kind. He believed it was the only way to save Marcus from himself.

As Aro approached (Y/N)'s home, his heartless resolve held firm. He knew what he had to do, and he was prepared to do it without hesitation. But when he knocked on her door and saw her welcoming smile as she opened it, something within him shifted.

(Y/N) had no knowledge of Aro's intentions. She greeted him warmly, inviting him inside, completely unaware of the danger she was in. Aro could feel his undead heart skip a beat as he looked into her eyes, filled with genuine kindness and trust.

In that moment, something inside Aro awakened—a twisted, possessive desire that went beyond his initial intent. He couldn't bring himself to harm her, not when she looked at him with such innocence and warmth.

Aro abruptly excused himself, leaving (Y/N) unharmed but bewildered. He retreated into the shadows, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He knew he couldn't kill her, but he couldn't allow Marcus to continue his attachment either. Especially not when he found himself entangled in her web of sunshine, so he decided on a different course of action.

In secret, Aro began contacting (Y/N). Early in the mornings, he would leave bouquets of beautiful flowers on her doorstep, each with a note signed simply with the initials A.V. He couldn't resist the temptation of being close to her, of having her know that he existed in her world.

As these secret gestures continued, Aro's thoughts deepened, and soon they begin to take a turn for the worst. He found himself drawn further into the web of obsession and desire. (Y/N) remained unaware of the dark forces that now watched over her, and the consequences of this forbidden connection were yet to fully unfold.

Aro had made up his mind – (Y/N) could not remain a human who knew of both Marcus and him. The existence of vampires had to remain a secret, and he was willing to go to great lengths to ensure it. He needed a vampire who was willing to sire her, and he knew exactly where to turn – Caius.

Approaching Caius in the dimly lit chamber where the Volturi convened, Aro explained his plan. "Caius, I have a proposition for you," he began, his voice dripping with persuasive charm.

Caius regarded Aro with a skeptical expression. "What's in it for me, Aro?“

Aro smiled, knowing how to appeal to Caius's desires. "It's been centuries since one of us has sired a new vampire. Think of the power and influence that would come with having a fledgling under your control. It would be a demonstration of your strength."

Caius's interest was piqued, but he remained cautious. "And who is this human you have in mind?"

Aro provided Caius with (Y/N)'s address, allowing him to watch her from the shadows. At first, Caius couldn't see anything particularly special about her. She appeared to be an ordinary human, going about her daily life in the town.

However, as he continued to observe, he noticed something intriguing. People seemed to gravitate toward her, drawn to her presence as if by an invisible force. It was as if she possessed a unique magnetism that drew others in.

Caius saw the potential in her and believed that her gift, whatever it may be, would shine even brighter as a vampire. He agreed to Aro's plan, and they set the wheels in motion.

One fateful night, as (Y/N) walked home alone, Caius attacked her swiftly and silently. He gave her a small amount of his venom, enough to begin the transformation into a vampire, and left her there, gasping for breath.

Demetri, under Aro's orders, arrived just in time to rescue (Y/N) from the brink of death. He spirited her away to a secluded house far from the town, where she would complete her transformation in secret.

The transformation into a vampire was agonizing, filled with searing pain and screams that echoed through the empty house. Demetri watched over her, ensuring that no one would hear her suffering. It was a cruel and calculated plan, orchestrated by Aro.

As (Y/N)'s human life faded away, she was reborn as a vampire, her journey into the world of the undead marked by betrayal and secrecy, setting the stage for a dark and complex future.

As (Y/N) gradually regained consciousness, her surroundings were strange and disorienting. The last thing she remembered was walking home alone at night, and now she found herself in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by three strangers. Panic surged through her as she tried to make sense of the situation.

Aro, with his ever-calming demeanor, stepped forward and spoke gently, "Do not be afraid, my dear. We are only here to help."

(Y/N)'s eyes darted between the three men, her heart racing with fear and confusion. "Where am I? Who are you?"

Caius, the one who had turned her, took a step forward and offered a reassuring smile. "My name is Caius. We found you in a dire state, half-dead, and I made the decision to save your life."

(Y/N) was still disoriented, her memories muddled and elusive. She couldn't recall how she had ended up in this predicament or who these people were. But Caius's words had an immediate effect on her. Gratitude overwhelmed her fear, and she threw her arms around him, thanking him for saving her life.

Demetri, who had been silently observing the scene, felt a pang of discomfort as he watched (Y/N) embrace Caius. He knew that this display of affection was a ruse, a part of the plan to keep her in the dark about her true nature. Still, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he saw her gratitude directed toward Caius.

Aro, too, felt a subtle undercurrent of jealousy as he watched (Y/N) with Caius. Though he would never openly admit it, he couldn't deny the strange pull she had on him, the unexplainable desire to be close to her.

But for now, they had successfully deceived (Y/N) into believing that her transformation was an act of salvation, rather than a calculated move to protect the vampire world's secrets. As she clung to Caius with gratitude in her newly immortal life, the complex dynamics among Aro, Caius, and Demetri were set in motion, with (Y/N) at the center of it all, unaware of the truth hidden in her missing memories.

In the moonlit expanse of the Volturi castle, Marcus paced uneasily through the grand hallways. His mind was consumed by one thought, or rather, one person - (Y/N). It had been days since he had last seen her, and a growing sense of suspicion nestled in his heart.

He had noticed the way Aro and Caius had been acting strangely lately, whispering secrets that excluded him and sneaking off to places unknown. Marcus had always been perceptive, especially when it came to the actions of his fellow Volturi leaders. These changes did not escape his watchful gaze.

One chilly night, Marcus decided he could no longer ignore the burning curiosity within him. He followed Aro and Caius as they slipped away from the castle and into the dense, ancient forest surrounding Volterra. He knew better than to question them directly; he needed to uncover the truth himself.

Hidden behind a thick cluster of trees, Marcus watched from a distance as Aro and Caius entered a remote cabin. The moon painted their silhouettes against the dark night. He waited in silence, the chill seeping into his bones as minutes turned into hours.

Eventually, the door creaked open, and Aro and Caius exited the cabin. Marcus knew it was his chance. As the two vampires disappeared into the night, he slipped inside the cabin, his eyes adjusting to the dim interior.

There, in the corner of the room, lay a figure he recognized all too well - (Y/N). But the sight that met his eyes left him stunned and furious. She was no longer the human he had known. She had been turned into a vampire.

He approached her cautiously, anger bubbling beneath his calm exterior. "It's dangerous for you to stay here," he whispered, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Before he could say more, the door swung open, and Aro and Caius returned, their expressions unreadable. Marcus straightened, his anger now unhidden. "What's the meaning of this?" he demanded in a low, angry tone.

Aro stepped forward, attempting to placate the brewing tension. "Marcus, (Y/N) is an extraordinary vampire. When she was human, she had the gift of attraction. But now, as a vampire, her power has intensified. The more time you spend around her, the stronger the pull becomes. It's... almost obsessive."

Marcus was concerned and infuriated. Caius, his sire, spoke up defiantly, "She's mine now, Marcus. I won't give her up."

The fury that had been smoldering erupted within Marcus, and he seized Caius, pinning him against a nearby tree. "This is not right," he hissed.

Aro intervened, "Let's not fight, brothers. There must be a way to share her."

The tension hung thick in the air, as Marcus, Caius, and Aro stood in the moonlit forest, their futures entangled in the presence of the gifted (Y/N).

"What do you suggest, then?" Marcus demanded, his grip on Caius loosening slightly as he considered Aro's words.

Aro smiled in his usual charismatic manner, despite the tense situation. "As I mentioned earlier, we could share her. She would only be aware of our presence, and occasionally Demetri's, to maintain the illusion of her normal life."

Marcus frowned, recalling Aro's earlier warning about (Y/N)'s allure. "But you said the longer someone spends with her, the more they fall in love with her."

Caius, still pinned to the tree, chimed in, "That's why we can't let Demetri be with her all the time. As long as he's only a protector of sorts, the pull to be with her won't be as strong."

Marcus considered the proposition, his anger slowly giving way to a begrudging agreement. The prospect of sharing (Y/N) was far from ideal, but it seemed like the only way to keep her safe and maintain some semblance of control over their own desires.

Reluctantly, he released Caius, who straightened his clothing. "We shall share her," Marcus conceded, a mix of resentment and longing in his voice.

With that decision made, the three Volturi kings now had (Y/N) all to themselves, each harboring their own desires and secrets that could either lead to unity or turmoil within the ancient vampire coven.

[monstersdownthepath]

Herald of Abadar: Lawgiver

CR 15

Lawful Neutral Gargantuan Construct

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 276

Well, I suppose we have to get this guy out of the way at some point, so why not put him at the start of Monitors and Misfits Month? It's especially fitting considering Abadar is the first core god that most people will see in just about every list of deities thanks to his name! The God of Civilization has done a lot for the mortal world and for the Perfect City of Axis alike, with the implacable Lawgiver being one of his simpler creations, made to enforce the peace of Axis and to act as Abadar's strongarm in the mortal world. Much like its fellow "boringly-named Construct in service to a Lawful god crafted for the express purpose of combat" the Grand Defender, the Lawgiver was not born, but made, crafted directly from the metals of Axis to serve as its defender and to hit Chaotic creatures with a huge hammer. It's got a lot in common with the GD!

Including being very boring. If you put the Hand of the Inheritor on one side of a Venn diagram and the Grand Defender on the other, the Lawgiver would be dead in the center right under the topic of 'statistically boring.' This isn't to say it's weak, far from it! But the Lawgiver is as every bit as stuffy, practical, and to-the-point as its creator, eschewing having any unique abilities or equipment or any bombastic spells in favor of a handful of generically useful spells and the aforementioned hammer. It doesn't even have an interesting personality, the book outright noting the thing almost never speaks, and when it does it's almost entirely passages from Abadar's holy books and manuals which are relevant to the current situation.

You can, perhaps, sense my frustration with and boredom towards Lawgiver here, a feeling that appears to be shared with the staff of Archives of Nethys, who haven't updated its statblock since its original release in Curse of the Crimson Throne: Seven Days to the Grave back in 2008, forcing me to keep Inner Sea Gods open in my other hand to make sure my data is accurate. As you may expect from such a forgettable entity, this won't be a particularly interesting article, but it is one that must be written to set the stage for the rest of the Heralds this month. So, let's take a look at the Big Man With A Hammer which, as we'll find out, is all it needs to smash most proteans and demons to paste.

Let's get the big hammer out of the way, first. The guy is stanced up in his picture for a reason! He's winding up for a big, two-handed slam with a +1 Axiomatic Warhammer sized for a Gargantuan creature, the heavy weapon dealing 4d6+10 (+2d6 vs Chaotic) damage upwards to four times a round and triple damage on a critical hit. Should it prize power over accuracy, the Lawgiver can use Power Attack to take a -4 penalty to its attack rolls for +8 to the damage, a trade it will typically make without hesitation against Chaotic Outsiders.

With a 20ft space and 20ft reach, Lawgiver shrouds entire battlefields in its threat radius, being one of the largest Heralds yet one of the few who can take its foes by surprise; it's not only capable of freezing completely stock-still and pretending to be a statue, but it can freely Change Shape into a large eagle to scout or hide from prying eyes, typically doing so when patrolling Axis to keep an eye out for trouble. It can also be considerably less subtle by turning into a two-headed golden eagle, which most sane beings would recognize as an omen that something very bad was about to happen to them if they don't turn and leave.

Even in its natural statue state the Lawgiver can fly 60ft a round, letting it get really goofy with its Full-Attacks if it wants, slamming its hammer down on its enemies from above while they're stuck on the ground, Medium-sized foes unable to fly made completely worthless by its superior reach... though this is used more often to catch up to flying enemies than it is to let it safely attack ground-bound foes, because every protean flies and they're by far Axis' most common enemy. And if someone's got magical flight to keep up with it, it really has nothing to say to that.

It's got a huge pile of spell-likes, more than almost any other Herald, but they're all for the good of the people of Axis and the mortals fighting alongside the Lawgiver than for the Herald itself. Just take a look at the healthcare you get on Axis' battlefield: Cure Serious Wounds, Neutralize Poison, Remove Blindness/Deafness, Remove Curse, Remove Disease, and finally Remove Paralysis, ALL of these spells usable 3/day! Paizo should have saved time and just given it Heal and Greater Restoration; mostly the same effect, less text.

You'll notice that every single one of those spells is useless to the Lawgiver, who--as a Construct--is immune to basically anything but HP damage. That spell list is exclusively for the mortals fighting alongside it and citizens harmed in the crossfires of the war on chaos! And speaking of Construct defenses, the Lawgiver is a fairly sturdy robot, all things considered: 34 AC, immunity to Acid and Electricity, 10 Cold and Fire Resistance, and 26 Spell Resistance overall. It's also got All-Around Vision to deny flanking bonuses and is immune to critical hits, and uniquely is also impervious to rust, something I assume many proteans hoping to erode the city of Axis found out all too late.

It's a pretty sturdy robot! Even if it is undecorated. Function over form, and all that; Abadar knew what he wanted when he built it, and it's no more than that. And that's more or less it!

You can sort of read more about it here; you'll need to use the d20pfsrd version to actually see its updated stats.

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Doctor Y/n - Attending Orthopedic Surgeon - 10 - Grey's Anatomy x Fem!Reader

"What is that on your head?" Jo raised an eyebrow, about to reach over when you ducked, avoiding her hands by taking them into yours and holding them instead.

"Okay, as cute as you are, do not grab my antlers- you didn't read your emails did you? Teddy's doing a Silly Hat Day, and it was these reindeer antlers on a headband, or one of the children's tiaras. You have grand rounds, go!" You instructed, nudging Jo to get going before you went to remove the antlers.

"These are going to give me a migraine..."

///

"Nice to meet everyone. I'm Doctor Addison Montgomery, and you must be the group that's been screwing up the program. Kidding." Doctor Montgomery chuckled to herself, leading the residents to grand rounds on it's feet, as Webber put it.

Joey: Doctor Addison Montgomery is here!!!

Braces: groundbreaking uterine transplant, I heard

Joey: Wow so you sound so excited

Braces: I'm reading more articles Callie sent

Joey: Don't you have surgeries as a big shot ortho attending?

Braces: Link and Nico keep taking the good ones, so I just get the children who had broken their arms or legs falling from trees or trampolines

Braces: when I'm not checking on post-ops

Joey: you sound bored:(

Jo however did not get a response, as another article caught your eye. An article which included the name of a doctor you once knew. Doctor Leah Murphy.

///

You only stopped reading when a rumble from the vents interrupted your thoughts, glancing through the window to spot Link reaching up from on top of one of the desks at the vents.

"Damn. No aircon." You realised, hurriedly putting down your tablet to check on patients who could be at risk with the HVAC system down.

///

"Where the hell is Link!" You shouted as you ran through the halls, but it was Webber that answered, stopping your run.

"He's on the roof looking at the HVAC with Altman."

"Teddy and Link are on the roof... okay I know Teddy installed an air con unit this morning but what the hell?" You replied before you had to check up on another patient.

///

"I delievered two babies today in 115 degree heat." Jo announced as she sat in the morgue, eating her snowcone.

"I mean, it's not a competition but I did help out on a successful uterine transplant." Schmitt added before you arrived, missing your reindeer antlers as Teddy frowned slightly, but you were making a beeline for the snowcones before landing on Jo.

"Oh god, you're all sweaty!" Jo grimaced, pushing your snowcone into your face as you went to speak but Jo who was asking Schmitt to put in a good word in for her, in case Doctor Montgomery came back to Grey Sloan to help deliver the uterine transplant baby.

"Leah's thriving in cardio. Articles and everything."

"Murphy? Good for her." Jo shrugged, glancing over at where Owen was talking to Teddy before leaving.

"Yeah. Good for her... I'm so glad I stashed ice cream in the freezer." You admitted, glancing at where Teddy was wearing her bobble hat indoors and saying bad puns.

"Hunt and Teddy are investigating something with veterans, but neither have said much." You explained, checking your phone to see Callie had asked your thoughts on the articles.

///

"Y/n, are you hiding here looking at research and letting Nico take all the good surgeries?"

"Nico got all the good surgeries, and the patients I do have are waiting on x-rays so I'm reading articles that the former head of Ortho sent me. I haven't been to New York since before the pandemic but there's not a lot of ortho stuff going on this season... I mean lately."

"Well, stick around, ortho still needs you, Y/n." Link replied, looking over your shoulder at the article you were reading and muttering a 'wow' under his breath.

Link had barely made it down the corridor when the hospital began to shake, an explosion heard somewhere that had you ducking under your desk.

///

You were quick to call up to daycare, finding out that everyone was fine as Hunt sent over messages wanting everyone in the ER.

"It was a pipeline explosion. He's still not answering." Bailey tried over and over to call Ben, whilst your eyes lingered on the TV displaying the news.

///

Your face fell as a deceased firefighter was brought in from the pipeline explosion scene. Dean Miller had died on the scene. Dean Miller had died on the scene and Victoria Hughes was in trauma one, alive but experiencing heart arrhythmias due to the electrocution.

///

Walking down the corridors, your eyes landed on Bailey and Warren with a two year old girl you didn't recognise, with many more firefighters in the room of the injured firefighter from before.

Down another corridor, in another room, you recognised Farouk in a patient bed, with Megan, Teddy and Owen. You didn't intrude, instead pretending like you had a patient to attend to. You didn't really fit with the Hunt family, not like Teddy did, or Allison.

"What happens if I die? What happens to Luna?"

"I get the penthouse, and Luna, Scout and I buy an 80-inch, high-def TV with your insurance money." Link replied, but Jo frowned, not even realising you were within earshot.

"Link!"

"I've got Luna. That's not even a question, okay? I've got Luna. And you know damn well that Y/n won't let you die without a fight. Honestly, Y/n would go toe to toe with the grim reaper if it meant saving you." Link pointed out, Jo looking relieved at the prospect.

"Thank you."

Letting out a breath you didn't realise you were holding, you unlocked your phone, hitting 'call' on a contact that you knew would probably complain that it was late for her, but you needed to talk to someone.

///

"Are you sleeping through Thanksgiving?" Was the first thing you heard as you reached for and answered your phone from under the blanket on your couch you had fallen asleep on.

"Joey took a shift, so Luna's at daycare. Allison and Leo are at Hunt's mother's house, Teddy is at the hospital with Megan and Farouk. Link is apparently at Amelia's with Scout and Meredith's kids. I am alone for Thankgiving after falling asleep on my couch last night."

"Are you avoiding Owen, or Owen's mother?" Arizona enquired but you didn't respond at first, rolling over in bed to get more comfortable.

"Both, but Teddy is avoiding Hunt's mother too... because she dislikes Leo's clothing choices, whereas Hunt's mother just doesn't like me. I get the feeling she would have preferred Teddy and Hunt to marry and be a happy little nuclear family." You explained, letting out a sigh.

"I don't fit. I don't really fit in anywhere anymore."

"Tell mini-me to visit us in New York-" "Callie, not right now!"

"I should go, happy turkey and whatever day, 'zona." You forced a smile even though Arizona couldn't see it, hanging up before Arizona could get another word in.

///

Sitting on your couch that lived in the living room of the penthouse, you were waiting on an order of Chinese takeaway to arrive. Jo was at the hospital eating gathered up Thanksgiving food with Bailey, Webber, Nico and Schmitt.

Link and Amelia were looking after Zola, Bailey and Ellis with Scout there too. Amelia had sent you a video of Link dancing with Meredith's children.

Heading towards the door once you knew the delivery person was near the building, your eyes landed on a pile of post that had been left near the door.

///

The Chinese takeaway tupperware sat on the coffee table as you began to go through the post, your heart fluttering at the postcard that Stephanie had sent you, along with one from Jackson that made you laugh. It wasn't until you were opening a letter from someone you didn't think had your new address that your eyes filled with tears.

Leah had sent you a letter, whilst Callie and Arizona had sent you cards from New York.

Heading over to the fridge to put the leftovers, your eyes landed on the familar photos from your intern year. You and Brooks. You missed Brooks. Glancing over the photos next to that one, you spotted the one of you and Leah at the Space Needle, and the photo that Jo had taken of you and Hannah Brody too.

The photos were high up enough on the fridge that none of the small children could reach them yet, luckily.

Tugging the hood of your Yale hoodie over your head, you laid down on your couch and put on one of the movies that Brooks had suggested on her list years ago now. A movie from 1989 called the Little Mermaid.

///

The buzzer going off stirred you from your sleep, sleepily walking over to see who it was, your eyes widened in shock, pressing the intercom to speak.

"Mac! Cody! Rory!"

"Did you really think we'd let you spend Thanksgiving alone?" Cody grinned at the camera, holding up Rory who squirmed and squealed in excitement to see you.

///

Tags: @nnightskiess @emskisworld @multifandomlesbianic @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived @inquisitive-nix @grey-warden-commander @unexpected-character @youralphawolf72 @incorrectlycorrectfun

[guardian-angle22]

Tagged by @beautifulhigh & @welcometololaland to list my top 5 Tarlos scenes.

This is really going to show my Season 3 bias ngl.

#5. 2.12 "Don't make me twist your arm."/"Please do."

Their chemistry is insane when they're teasing each other downstairs and then they kiss each other so softly once they get upstairs. I'm a sucker for a good soundtrack moment and there's something iconic about having their house literally light up on fire under them while obliviously making out as Fever by Elvis Presley plays in the background. Peak cinema tbh.

#4. 3.04 "Hey, baby. Breathe."/"Welcome home, TK."

We can all agree to have these two can count as one scene, right? they go back to back. The way TK reached for Carlos as soon as he woke up and immediately noticed that Carlos wasn't breathing right even though he just woke up from a coma, is still groggy, and barely has his eyes open? soulmate shit right there. If you haven't watched this without the music. my god. do it now. & then add in how happy they both look as Carlos leads TK into the loft with his hands over his eyes, and then when TK looks around and you can see on his face when he realizes he still gets to have this despite everything? Beautiful.

#3. 3.18 "For the first time in my life, the love that I feel is infinitely more powerful than the fear of losing it."/"A thousand times yes."

I mean can I even say more about the proposal that hasn't already been said? the urgency TK felt that prompted him to wake Carlos up in the middle of the night. His speech to Carlos. All the little touches throughout. The way they both were crying by the end. It was beautiful and it was perfect for them. (the only way it could have been better is if they maybe stopped to turn on a fucking lamp)

#2. 3.08 "Hey, look at me."/"I love you."

This was their first mutual "I love you" shown on screen and while the context was heartbreaking, it was still so so sweet. Carlos being the loving caregiver, kissing TK's forehead, rubbing his knee, wanting to make sure he eats. The way Carlos tells TK to look at him and he does immediately, even though TK has been basically avoiding eye contact with everyone the entire scene will live rent free in mind for all of time, I'm sure.

#1. 3.13 "Do you have any idea how proud of you I am?"/"You're just so sweet."

Can I put the entirety of 3.13 on the list at number one? Because it's my favorite episode for them. It has so many things. It has them being domestic and flirtatious. TK being distracted by Carlos in yoga clothes. It has them fighting a bit, overcoming those obstacles, and communicating. It showed Carlos as a multidimensional character with flaws like jealousy and pettiness, but then growing through it to come to the realization that he can't be everything that TK needs at the end of the day.

But if I absolutely had to pick just one scene from it, I would chose the opening scene. TK sharing with Carlos about his meeting, finding a sponsor, & the realization of not having Gwyn around affecting his mindset. Carlos waiting up with his adorable glasses, reading articles to educate himself, telling TK how proud of him he is. TK calling him sweet and flirting with him. I just-- 🥰🥰

----

Because I'm doing this pretty late in the day, this has made it's rounds through a lot of my mutuals already. so I'm just going to tag a few people that I haven't seen do it yet (no pressure though if you're not feelin' it. but also if you have done it and I missed it let me know so I can read yours!): @morganaspendragonss @ourlegendwillbefitforverse @detective-giggles @noxsoulmate @ladytessa74 @autistic-lesbian-story-lover @tkstrandreyes @pragmatic-optimist @reyescarlos @spencessmile @poledancingghostson @sunshinestrand @mandiiigurllll

[bookishtheaterlover7]

Hello, Fabulous Fans of the Fandom!!! It has definitely been a hot second.

Didn't post anything about their posts, and Pap walks, for the reason that I'm pretty sure they're getting ideas from rant posts like mine... Didn't want them getting more ideas, so no rant post.

But today, I'm making an exception. 😉

Before we begin though, 👸 wants to give y'all a small warning ⚠️

To start, let's look at this photo...

Is that who we think it is?

Is it?

Is it?

Nah, I'm just kidding. Don't worry if you thought it was Albitch, trust me, you weren't the only one 😆

Thank you, 👸 for handing me these screenshots 😁

"Funny how, Kim Kardashian's nudes made her famous. But when AB did it, to try and get attention, we constantly mock her for it."-👸

Girl! You've got a point 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Now that I have your attention, let's get to my main topic...

WTF has been happening lately?!?!

Well, for one thing, I know we're all tense one way or another about Valentine's Day. Since aside from being the most romantic day of the year, it's also the anniversary of the dreaded VDay photo dump.

And then there's the uterus-obssesed trolls from her side, expecting a baby announcement... Fuck y'all, by the way 🖕 which made me more tense about February 14.

But what happens a few hours before February 14 American time? Chris posts an adorable video about Dodger instead.

Still, that didn't help alleviate the tension. Because Dodger might help a little, but he's been used before, and it most definitely wasn't fun.

But then, it turns out Albitch isn't even in the same country. She flew to France with a bunch of friends. Friends who were seen to be posting to their boyfriends, saying how they missed them.

But why is Albitch's trip so important? Well, let me tell you. She WASN'T in the same country, when Chris just proved he's in Mass, and her friends' posts showed her WITHOUT her ring, in France.

Oddly enough, it was around this time, that photos of ringless-Chris-lookalike surfaced. The photos that were shown and sent to people/blogs that were guaranteed to get it circling the internet before the end of the day.

Seriously, are they slipping? Or was it deliberate?

Anyway, when Valentine's finally came, we were in the clear. Chris' Instagram remained silent, except for that one significant Dodger post.

Things stayed relatively quiet for a while, aside from the France trips making their rounds here and there. But it all came to a head earlier, when Chris posted on his story...

Further confirming how far apart he, and his dear "wife" really are. Who's been seen, eating out in France, still missing her ring...

I mean, really? Do y'all not eat out with finger jewelry? Is that another lame excuse y'all have for her?🙄

And three days ago, this article gets released... And the legitimacy is still up for debate, but the fact that it's here, feels like the perfect storm to me.

Not saying that it's the beginning of the end. But it's something!

Now, honestly, it's a mess in the Fandom. This whole thing is causing a shit storm, like always, and it's not pretty.

But whether or not this means something, we have to keep a level head. This could go either way. Which is why I, personally am taking the win.

Wins are few and far between right now, so, I'm taking it. And I'm also finishing two fics, and enjoying my book. Which is a pretty big deal, considering, I haven't been able to finish a book for most of last year 🥺

Thank you to my fabulous friends for sourcing me, and guiding me to the screenshots that allowed me to make my posts. Y'all truly are the best eyes and ears, a girl can ask for. 🫶

And please let me know, or feel free to add, if I forgot anything, guys😊

Until the next one!

❤️ Booky

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Tattletale nodded, “Faultline’s crew does anything short of murder.  You can say her personality sucks, you can say her powers suck, but I’ll admit she’s very good at finding hidden strengths in the people that work for her.  See those two guys?  When it came to powers, they got a bad roll of the dice.  Became freaks that couldn’t hope to pass in normal society, wound up homeless or living in the sewers.  There’s a story behind it, but they became a team, she made them effective, and they’ve only messed up one or two jobs so far.”

5.1 is a pretty textbook exposition chapter, get a round-up of all the other baddies we haven't met yet, get the shape of the villain scene for Brockton Bay - these are the guys that Skitter and Friends are going to be taking on, over time, one by one, or just about.

So as a chapter, it is a bit dry, but it's dry with purpose, and it's good to have a bit of a slower bit, and it's not so dry it feels too lecture-y.

Plus, the earlier bit where Coil walks in (is that a body double? I feel like I read that was a body double somewhere? Like, he has his two-timelines ability and all, but even if he's just staying home doing paperwork in one timeline, if he decides to collapse the paperwork timeline... that paperwork needs to get done again. That's actually got to be annoying as fuck, doing the paperwork twice.

And this is the man who wanted to have like three or four jobs by the end? Coil, PRT director, secret ruler of the city and he's a CEO of something, right? Man, Thomas Calvert things both big and incredibly small. If he wasn't, like Kaisar, so monofocused on one city he could still have a great deal of money and influence across more than that.

Of course, that may be while Cauldron was cool with him having a vial, knowing he'd just focus on one city. Does Cauldron manipulate things to tend to make more villains focused on one locale rather than trying to operate over a broader space?

Another group arrived, and it was like you could see a wave of distaste wash over the faces in the room.  I had seen references on the web and news articles about these guys, but they weren’t the sort you took pictures of.  Skidmark, Moist, Squealer.  Two guys and a girl, the lot of them proving that capes weren’t necessarily attractive, successful or immune to the influences of substance abuse.  Hardcore addicts and dealers who happened to have superpowers. Skidmark wore a mask that covered the top half of his face.  The lower half was dark skinned, with badly chapped lips and teeth that looked more like shelled pistachio nuts than anything else.  He stepped up to the table and reached for a chair.  Before he could move it, though, Kaiser kicked the chair out of reach, sending it toppling onto its side, sliding across the floor. “The fuck?” Skidmark snarled. “You can sit in a booth,” Kaiser spoke.  Even though his voice was completely calm, like he was talking to a stranger about the weather, it felt threatening. “This is because I’m black, hunh?  That’s what you’re all about, yeah?” Still calm, Kaiser replied, “You can sit in a booth because you and your team are pathetic, deranged losers that aren’t worth talking to.  The people at this table?  I don’t like them, but I’ll listen to them.  That isn’t the case with you.”

Ah yes, the most pathetic villains canon ever gave us. Though wtf is this Moist guy? He's never been mentioned anywhere in fic or on reddit. I know about Mush and Trainwreck being Merchants, but who is this guy?

Though is this Skidmark being more presentable than usual, or does his usual reputation for being super filthy and whatnot just standard flanderization? Is it based on much more than this?

Also, really, Skidmark. Really? That the best name he could come up with?

[shinycollarboneapologist]

PLEASE GIVE US WHAT WE WANT (TAYLOR VERSE TALKING ABOUT RUMORS)

sighs. (if i get bullied off of tumblr.com .. ur all coming with me)

when the article first drops, you have to stifle a laugh. matty and taylor are no strangers to dating rumors, but seeing a headline about the two of them makes your skin heat and your stomach flip. so you laugh to ease unhinged green monster that's on your back. you know it's not true, you're literally sat in front of taylor drinking an aperol spritz in italy. there's no way. (she's also grossly uninterested especially after hearing what went down with the two of you in the states, which kind of spurred the whole girls trip but that's besides the point).

it still stings though; looking at the person you had so viciously claimed as yours (even if it was just to yourself) being linked up with your best friend. and it's poorly timed. your life had been blissfully matty free for weeks. it was your own doing seeing as you blocked his number and on all social media platforms possible, but now here you are trying to ward of misplaced jealousy with alcohol and sunshine.

taylor makes light of it over lunch and you two share a laugh about the timing of it all. it helps to ease the fire in you, makes swallowing the pill of acceptance a little bit easier.

he calls later that night. well, you recieve a call from george and when you answer there's heavy breathing on the line until you roll your eyes, "george? what's up?"

"i need to talk to you."

matty.

you inwardly groan, but it must have slipped out because he only sighs.

"i'm hanging up, matty." his name feels foreign on your tongue, syllables that haven't been uttered together in weeks. his voice still makes you tense up, still has your heart racing a bit in your chest.

"no. i mean, please don't," he murmurs feebly.

"what is it then?" you're growing impatient and you're unsure if its in yourself for not just biting the bullet and hanging up or at him for his long winded round about way to get a sentence out. "i don't have all day."

"taylor and i aren't dating," matty breathes, "just wanted you to know that before you see it."

you laugh, embittered, "i've seen it already. and i know. i'm with her right now."

he curses under his breath, "i'm not on speaker, am i?"

"no."

"okay good."

it's silent, aside from the sound of his feet hitting the floor on the other side of the phone. he's pacing, and by the sounds of it, the phone is shuffling under his ear as he ruffles his hair. you hear the click of a lighter and an inhale.

"i'm not that much of a dick, y'know? wouldn't go after your friend after you ended things-"

"matty. i mean this in the nicest conceievable way possible: i really don't care," you interupt, but he keeps going.

"like you know i'm not a dick. i'm just wired differently, and i do some stupid shit a lot of the time. but fucking your friends and stuff would not be one of them- oh."

"we haven't spoken in weeks. and this is what you call me about? a stupid rumor?" you can practically see him wince in your head. you do feel bad, but not bad enough to take back what you said at least. he'd dug his own grave, and now it was his turn to lie in it and face any repercussions he had garnered from it. "listen, i'm sorry people are being rude to you on the internet but i meant it when i said i didn't want to see or hear from you ever again."

"i was just trying to-"

"prove to me that you're not a dick, i get that," you sigh, "but you're about four weeks late on that one."

you hang up after that, not wanting to listen to his endless and ill-fated apologies. if he was actually sorry, he would've reached out sooner, made an effort at least. instead, he's popped your "matty-free bubble" and its taking every last fiber of your being not to call him back and let him spew it all on you. you would consume every lie he ever spun you happily if you could just have your own peace of mind back. because he might not be dating taylor, but that doesn't mean there won't be others.

it's a hard pill to swallow; looking at something that was so uniquely yours as it fades out of view. but you do it anyway for your own solitude.

[pleuvoire]

actually can i say something. hygiene discourse has always made me feel like pure shit as someone whose executive dysfunction means i shower irregularly. every time a new post or article starts a new round of "ewww imagine not showering regularly or using deodorant i would vomit and kill myself if i had to spend two seconds next to someone like that how are you not ashamed of your very existence" posts on my dash i feel like a lesser lifeform and i feel like i can't even mention that i have trouble showering regularly or else my mutuals and followers will lose respect for me and no one will be on my side in this. fortunately i haven't had to see a round of this discourse in a while and i have since become more confident in my feeling that a lot of things people like to get superior about are quite ableist. so now i can post this openly without feeling too ashamed to mention it. it has always deeply rubbed me the wrong way that people will claim "oh i'm not making fun of disabled people who can't wash themselves every day, i'm making fun of people who can wash themselves every day and just choose not to" but the core of the mockery is still "ewww those gross people who don't wash themselves, so gross haha" so what's the difference in the end? you think people who struggle with showering look at those things and think "oh but i am exempt from this statement so it's fine ^_^"? you can't disclaimer your way out of that! fuck off!

[angelhummel]

Welcome to the Every Rachel Berry Outfit season 3 round up! It's been a long time coming but it's finally here. And this is also the longest style summary yet, so buckle up! Brought to you as always by the me, AngelHummel

Season 3 gives Rachel 192 new looks. She has the most outfit changes in Michael and Goodbye with 14 outfits each. While Pot O Gold and Nationals are tied for the least amount of outfits, with a mere 3 each. This is also the fewest outfits featured in any episode overall

While Rachel's style matures this season, it also gets a lot more samey. Gone are her animal sweaters, and gone is the variety in her silhouette. These days, dresses are her best friend.

Though she's never been a big fan of pants, that article of clothing is all but eliminated from her wardrobe this season. She's gone from 23 in season one, to 16 in season two, to 11 in season three. And the majority of those are either workout clothes, or pajamas. She also wears a pair for a coordinated group number (something else that is lacking in s3), and a pair as part of her Saturday Night Fever suit. Her only real pants outfit features a pair of shorts - soon to be a staple of Rachel's wardrobe - seen at the very end of the season

Pants weren't the only thing Rachel decided were restricting her legs too much this year. Knee high socks and tights' stocks plummeted this year thanks to Rachel leaving her legs bare more often than not. But of course these signature accessories haven't vanished completely. This season, Rachel sported...

25 pairs of knee socks. Okay, still a lot, but we've cut back from s1's 38 pairs

18 pairs of tights. Again, sounds like a lot, but compared to last season's 45 count...

13 pairs of ankle socks. She was trying something new but must've decided they weren't for her, as they don't appear after the halfway point of the season

As for accessories that have all but been wiped out, the headband fans were starving this season

We see Rachel sporting headband a pitiful 6 times - and one of them was Tina as Rachel! She wears two stretchy headbands to hold her hair back, once during dodgeball and once while in the shower. Then all the girls wear headbands in 3x14's competition. The only real headbands we see her wear are both in 3x22. An homage to her fashion roots, before she can branch out and find new styles

The 2011-2012 school year was a real "Say Something" Hat Year for McKinley, and Rachel was no exception. In addition to her headbands, she also wore 9 hats, along with flowers, bows, blue streaks, a welder's mask, and several other fun accessories for a total of 25 head based accessories

Most memorable of all? A wedding veil, a prom queen tiara, and a graduation cap. Landmark accessories, all of them.

And the final lost staple of Rachel's old wardrobe? Plaid skirts. She only wore two this season. But plaid made an appearance a total of 9 times, popping up in her outerwear and dresses more often. She also featured hearts a handful of times, and even a few florals this season

But the patterns that featured most in her wardrobe this season?

Stripes, which appeared 21 times, and...

Polka dots! Which appeared 24 times.

Rachel's wardrobe also featured 26 costumes this season, including matching group number outfits, themed looks, and all her potential Maria outfits

And of course it wouldn't be an outfit review if we didn't quantify the colors of her wonderful wardrobe. Have to appreciate them now because New York definitely bleaches out her rainbow a little. But for now...

Rachel rocked every color under the sun this season, but some much more than others. While some people, like myself, might associate her strongly with the color pink, that didn't even crack the top 5 this season

Honorable mentions this season are grey and pink, featured heavily in 16 and 17 outfits, respectively

Fifth place with 20 looks is Navy

Fourth place with 23 looks is Blue

Third place with 30 looks is Red

Second place with 41 looks is White

And in First place with a total of 52 looks is classic Black

And finally, to close out this extra long review, we will conclude with a visual list of my Top 10 Favorite Rachel Outfits of the season

[mobiused]

wait what did you get wrong?

Eric / Yoon Doyeon really is the same man in the thread - I made a mistake, sorry. It was really hard to find correct information, and the only thing that pinned down Doyeon to any of the past (Yoon Doyeon is a common enough name so I assumed it was a mix up) was 1 picture I found on Weibo. We shouldn't be company stans and blindly trust businessmen that have pasts we don't know about and should never believe that people are good just because we want to believe they are.

But I just want to say that on the other hand...

it is still true that Yoon Doyeon has never been a CEO of a Kpop company. Alpha Entertainment was a Singaporean talent agency that opened up a Korean branch, and Yoon Doyeon was CEO of this company. That doesn't mean he was particularly involved with SKARF, nor that he was responsible for any of the horrible things that the management inflicted on SKARF members.

That doesn't mean he *isn't* responsible. I genuinely don't know the extent of his culpability.

But just to be clear, nothing in the articles shared in that thread implicated Doyeon, in any of the mistreatment/abuse. It only suggested that the managers and 'staff' were involved; this reminds me of how LOONA's managers were abusive, how Jaden Jeong was directly involved in some of the dieting decisions, and how Lee Jonghyun was *not* involved in any of their mistreatment and the members liked him very much, gave him a surprise bday party of their own volition, Vivi called him to say she loved him, and the members saw him as a father figure - the members only spoke positively about him in comparison to other staff they've shaded, and still loved a fair few of the BBC staff despite the rotten apples that made their careers hell.

Honestly I'm still confused about the CTD / Super8 fact, because both Hyunjin and Doyeon said this was Doyeon's first ever project where he lead the group, and he only started the company because Hyunjin asked him to and inspired him to try something new. I really don't know where or how Super8 comes into this. If anyone has more info on this beyond what Hyunjin has talked about (I haven't seen any solid info beyond a cursory look that seemed to be just twitter stans talking) I'd appreciate it.

You might be wondering why I'm bothering to defend Yoon Doyeon after the fact. It's simply because I think in order to respect the girls I think it's important to acknowledge the reality of how the company is treating them in the present. Like I said before, the staff have been helping Yeojin repair her relationship with food, encouraging Hyeju to eat freely, buying Hyunjin everything she needed in her apartment, very actively involved them in every step of the album, etc. The girls have explicitly expressed gratitude to the company and how truly happy they are in comparison, like Hyeju actually enjoying the US tour this time round unlike last time, and the company haven't been tooting their own horn either, like the old LOONA TVs that were very focused on image management.

To not trust the girls and how positively they are speaking of the company is honestly just disrespectful to their experience to me. Like you can be cautious, understandably, but to discount what the girls are saying just because you have so little faith that things could be good for them... it just irks. That doesn't require us to, like, stan Doyeon himself of course though...

[romaine2424]

Daily Blog June 26, 2023

Daughter was off work today so we went to lunch, the grocery store (Trader Joes), and then the to our local nursery to pick up some annuals...I'm a month or so late in doing so. The pickings were slim. She's now upstairs taking a nap. Ha ha ha.

What I'm reading:

Oops nothing today. This morning I was busy trying to figure out how to write myself out of a box I put myself into. I sent off the dilemma to my Alpha, @m0srael, looking for advice. If you've read her stories you know she can methodically plot!

I hope if you missed yesterday's blog that you take a look for the Drarry rec I made.

Tumblr posts of interest:

Oh this is a good one. Just came across my feed. It's a post from @givereadersahug, who I just followed. In HPRECS community on Dreamwidth they are starting a weekly post called "What have I been reading?". Take a look at the post for details and then go over to Dreamwidth and check out even more posts they want to do on a weekly basis like a self-rec day. Building a community to share love of fic and art is terrific.

Okay, this link isn't on Tumblr but it's dead useful for those posting on AO3. Its the AO3 Work Skins/Tutorial. Ever come across a fic that has a newspaper article posted in it that looks very cool, or invisible writing that has to be highlighted, stickynotes, etc... Go take a look and you can see what all is offered.

One last item of Interest. Wondering what hp fests are going on or about to go? To this day, I think Potterfests' HP Fest News Round-up on LJ is the best. Seriously, take a look at that 2nd link for last week's roundup! Amazing.

Musings or Old idea but don't know how to implement it.

When I came back to fandom, I saw a topic that is as old as posting fanfic on whatever site and that is complaining about the same authors and stories being recced. It was a common complaint 20 years ago, too. Whether it's true or not, I'm not going to get into that kerfuffle, but I will say, it's much harder to get a fic seen these days. On LJ and Dreamwidth there was and I assume still are communities that anyone could post a fic or art to and everyone that subscribed to that community would see it. For Drarry on LJ harrydraco and on Dreamwidth (okay can't find the hd community there. I'll fill in the link when I can).

On Tumblr, you are at the mercy of your tags or the fest you might have joined. Also, thankfully @drarryspecificrecsdaily helps out too. In Discord, depending on the server, there's usually a channel for self-rec. Also the fabulous reccers (a topic for another day) do help immensely.

This discussion happened on Discord 2 years ago and I proposed that somehow we have a place where every author could post a link to what they considered to be their best Drarry story already posted on AO3. I was hoping to do this on AO3 and even came up with the corny name of "My Drarry Best". I also bid in @fandomtrumpshate for @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm to create a banner. However, after reading what's allowed for posting on AO3, I don't think it's possible to do it there.

I still think it's a good idea for both authors (to be showcased) and readers (to find quality fics and authors they weren't aware of) but I haven't a clue how to implement it and where. Any ideas? BTW I selfishly stopped @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm from working on it and instead I'll be having a Christmas fic with some illustrations once I finish the final chapter. :D

That's all for today.

Have a good week! Rom

[sparkedblaze]

cw more abuse and bad times <3

modern au - hey hey, what if. oscar and morris’ pa coming to one of their fights.

he usually likes to forget they exist, and they do the same, but he can’t help but see them crop up more and more over the years - they’re public figures, rising in notoriety. he sees the occasional article, sees them on magazine covers and ads, sees their fights advertised in the betting shops he frequents. sees that they always win. and then he sees a poster that they’re fighting in soho, where he still lives. and usually he’d never seek them out, doesn’t care nearly enough, but it’s just too tempting.

he walks in late and he’s just a single face amongst the crowd, but morris catches sight of him in his peripheral - instinct, like a prey animal - while he’s circling his opponent in the ring. he’s instantly so distracted he takes a brutal hit from his opponent and is levelled to the ground, and it’s almost like his papa hitting him all over again.

(oscar can’t see their pa from where he’s stood. he has no idea what’s wrong.)

OHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOO

So, something I haven't told y'all about the modern au

The Delancey's pa does actually find them one day.

Also mystery anon asking for Medda angst, tell me something

Are you sure you want that?

*

Walter smirked down at him as Morris fell to the ground, watching Oscar try and scramble into the ring when he doesn't get up. Weak. Pathetic. Just like he'd always known. He sat down in his seat, watching the events unfold.

The round stopped when Morris doesn't get back up. A timeout until they can use the smelling salts to wake him. He watched Oscar run to Morris, leaning over to whisper to him. He could almost hear the whimpering voice from a lifetime ago.

Cowardly boy.

He smirked again as Oscar's eyes searched the crowd, their eyes locking. He could feel the glare received as he tipped his hat at his older son.

Oscar moved to speak to the referee, and the man in the ring listened and nodded as he spoke.

Walter stood. Oscar's fight wasn't for another hour or so. He'd go speak with them between fights, and he knew Morris would never continue. Boy couldn't ever look past his fears.

He started down the steps as the referee announced that Morris was forfeiting the fight. What a surprise that was.

He made his way out the back door, seeing no security on the way. He supposed they were around the perimeter more than back here.

It didn't matter. They'd let him pass anyhow, wouldn't they? He was their father, for Christ's sake.

He found their changing room and pushed open the door, hearing a dog bark before even entering fully.

Not that he ever got the chance to.

A weight slammed against the door, and Oscar's glaring eye found him through the crack in the door.

"You ain't welcome in here. You ain't comin' in. We already got security comin' for ya," he sneered, pushing harder, trying to close the door in Walter's face.

"I'm welcome anywhere I please, boy, don't you- Morris, you cut that wailin' out or I swear!" Walter's gaze shifted behind Oscar, toward the open bathroom door.

He could hear the snap of Morris's teeth as his mouth closed, that old satisfaction creeping back into his bones.

Oscar was unmoving against the door, though the rage in his eyes built with each passing moment.

"Why you look so mad, boy? I made you into this. I built you up from nothin'! Hell you still is nothin'!" Walter cackled. "Bet you can't afford all them fancy clothes you flauntin' round in."

"It ain't none of your business, Pa," Oscar growled out, still unrelenting.

"I seen them posts. How mad you got at that boy. You ain't told nobody," it wasn't a question, Walter knew they hadn't. "You know silence don't come free, boy."

He watched his son's sneer grow, and finally the door budged.

Walter stepped up, smirking. "Glad you come to yo-"

He sucked in a breath as Oscar's head slammed into his.

"Don't you ever come here threatenin' us. We ain't no scrawny little boys no more, pa," Oscar stood between Walter and the bathroom.

"Wonder if both of you feel that way. Don't you, Morris?"

He heard another faint whimper from the bathroom.

"Leave him alone, pa. He ain't done nothin'."

"I've never agreed with you more, Oscar," Walter held a hand to his nose as he stepped back outside. "Sleep on it. Let me know by tomorrow."

"The answer is no," Oscar snapped.

"Then, I guess you ain't got nothin' to think about," Walter shrugged. "Like, perhaps the fact that it would ensure you never see me again."

He could see the boy working it over in his head.

"Ahhhh... There it is..." he sighed. "Like I said. Sleep on it."

Walter turned back to the hallway as a woman stormed down it.

Oscar groaned behind him as she rounded the corner, snapping out a short "What?"

The woman raised a brow at him. "Don't take that tone with me, Oscar Delancey. How is he?"

Walter raised a brow at him. "Delancey? That what you been tellin' folks?"

Medda turned toward Walter, eyebrows high. "Are you saying that isn't their name?"

He scoffed. " 'Course it ain't. They always been Williams."

"Oscar, who is this?"

"I'm their-"

"Excuse me, sir, I didn't ask you," her hand went up, and her eyes never left Oscar. She needed to know if he wanted her to do something about this man.

"Medda, this 's our pa."

"Your pa?" Walter didn't think her eyebrows could go any higher. "Mhm."

She turned to him, and Walter gave her a smile.

"Alright then, sir, let me speak to you. Just a second," she stepped closer to him. "I just want to get some things straight."

Her hand came down hard against his cheek, and Walter was bent over, clutching his cheek.

Oscar let out a tense laugh at the sight, caught halfway between fear and awe. He'd never ever seen Medda get violent before. Usually gentle and caring, and everything their pa never had been.

"Don't you ever come near my boys again! Do you understand me?" Her voice rose in a way that Oscar could never have dreamt. The way that made him cover his ears. "You have no right to even come close! And if you don't get to steppin' now, I'm callin' security and they gonna carry you right on out of here."

She stepped closer, glaring up at him. "So, Mister Williams, you gettin' outta here your way? Or mine?"

Oscar watched as pa glared up at him, but turned as Doggy barked, a warning that Morris was on the move.

He peeked around the doorway. "Mama?

" 'S that you?" His voice was quiet, but he took a few steps closer. Oscar tried to stop him as Morris ducked out of the door, Doggy right behind him.

"Wait, Mo-"

"Mama!" Morris cried as he dashed toward her, hugging her tight, still shrinking away from pa.

Walter's eyes went wide, and his face contorted with rage. "That ain't your ma! She ain't nothin'!"

Medda held just as tight as Morris, kissing his head and brushing her hand through his curls.

She wheeled around to give Walter another verbal beatdown, but she never got the chance.

Oscar had stormed over, and swung.

"She been more a ma then you ever was a pa!" He kept swinging, letting out years upon years of heartbreak and panic and fear.

Oscar was done being afraid.

He was done letting Morris be afraid.

It wasn't until a hand landed on his shoulder that he stopped. His hands were bloody and his knuckles ached-it'd been so long since he'd fought bare knuckled- but he felt so good.

"Oscar, dear... Go call security. They'll escort him out of here," she didn't say it, but Oscar knew what she was giving him time to do.

He had to get cleaned up before Morris saw him.

*

👏🏼YOU👏🏼NEVER👏🏼STOP👏🏼BEING👏🏼MEDDA’S👏🏼KID👏🏼

I love this and everything it turned into