#since I was fine with how things were left off

[amoebab22]

I completely agree with this. I feel like this is one of the worst parts about Veilguard. My Inky is in the South, and while I firmly believe Orlais is the devil, it's very weird that Tevinter is just super chill about my elf Rook when my elf Inky had constant micro-aggressions as well as just out and out slurs hurled at her. Also I'm going on a rant about Mythal.

SPOILERS BELOW

Bellara also seems to just...kind of ignore that I'm an elf? Davrin makes more sense. He left his clan and joined the Wardens because he just didn't really vibe with the Dalish. He'd think of himself as a Warden first, I think. Wardens don't seem to give much of a shit about your race or religion or sexuality or whatever. In The Calling, they canonically don't give a fuck about the gay couple in their little group, or that Fiona is a mage and an elf. Absolutely irrelevant. So Davrin could start to fall into that mindset because frankly, it's a nice way to live. It's just not real outside the Wardens.

So when Bellara is like oh my god our gods are evil and Davrin is like eh, fuck 'em, that's actually about the most realistic reaction we've got re: elves. Davrin is just out here like yo I'm a little busy saving the world fuck them gods. Love Davrin.

Also, in Inquisition, there's concern that knowing Corypheus's artifact is Elvhen will cause violence against elves. So knowing it's the Elvhen gods causing all of this? The consequences of that, even if an elf Rook saves the world, should be looming for a Shadow Dragon in particular. Clearly Inquisitor Ameridan's race did nothing for the elves of Orlais. It was covered up over time. His sacrifice meant nothing to the humans. This should make Solas's plans to restore the elves much, much more tempting.

The way the Crows were presented REALLY bothered me as well as someone who romanced Zev. The Crows *tortured* him, sexually assaulted him, made him feel worthless, because it was seen as necessary. Sure, Lucanis being blood family might give him a very different perspective and experience, but Jacobus is just allowed to be a Crow and start his own house when he wouldn't kill? I mean, I totally agree that prolonged, public shaming and imprisonment is worse for this individual, but like.... That's not how the Crows work. They kill stuff for money. Sure, they run Antiva and would be pretty pissed off about the Antaam taking their territory I'm sure, and they might work with Rook since Rook helped Lucanis and he's a big deal to the First Talon. But like... It should be a hard choice to work with them for Shadow Dragon Rook, because SLAVERY.

I feel like the pullback on slavery is to make Solas's actions seem more ambiguous, and to make it seem like there was some equal power between him and Mythal. But I have a very hard time believing he was never Mythal's slave. Also, a spirit of BENEVOLENCE? Get ABSOLUTELY fucked. She was fine with SLAVERY. Thought she could just slowly phase it out, maybe. Yeah, no .

Because here's the thing: slavery is evil. Whatever you have to do to stop slavery, short of participating or killing slaves, is pretty easy to justify. Maybe I'm just John Brown-pilled from living in Kansas a good chunk of my life, but killing slavers and slave owners and freeing slaves is MORALLY CORRECT. FULL STOP. A "kind" master is still a master. Sure, you can give them a chance to free their slaves and make reparations first, but waiting to vote slavery out didn't work. The US had to go to war. Haiti had to rebel (and give basically all its GDP to France for like two hundred years. Fuck Orlais AND France).

The only reason my Inky was able to befriend Dorian, at first, was their shared trauma in going to the future. That changes people (that whole quest fucked me up the first time I did it) and I think my elf Inky was looking for reasons to trust Dorian and ignore the system he participated in. She didn't have to see it so it seemed less real. He's an altus so he doesn't own the estate. He seems open to other opinions! And some part of him knows it's wrong, or he wouldn't be so awkward upon talking to Inky the first time.

But Solas's inherent and never fully overcome distrust of Dorian isn't wrong. Solas needs to see action; words aren't enough. I don't blame him.

This is the same softening we saw of the Templars in DA2 and Inquisition, but if you read The Stolen Throne and The Calling and play DAO, it's very clear that mages are oppressed by the Chantry and live in horrible conditions. The ones in Lake Calenhad are described as pale and kinda sickly looking (or something like that) because they don't get any fucking sunlight. Fiona is happy to go to the circle at first because she was a SLAVE in Orlais (Honestly Loghain's hatred of Orlais is justified even though his actions aren't). If you decide to allow the right of annulment or whatever in DAO, Zevran calls it genocide. Zevran isn't one to mince words. He doesn't pretend he isn't a killer or that he wasn't tortured.

My Inky and my Rook are both 'no gods no masters' types, which is why I think clan Lavellan sent their First on a risky mission supposedly by herself (got real sick of her shit lol). As a result, she heavily sympathizes with Solas's cause, and would have happily joined him in bringing down the Veil if he'd just agreed to spend time making sure as few people died as possible, particularly after she meets the Avvar and sees how spirits really are. She knows Solas better than anyone, and even without a full explanation, she'd know that his reasons for doing this were morally right. He freed her people. He never meant to hurt them. He can't live with his guilt. Inky (who in my game was more like 30 because I don't think she could have made decisions or led on her own at 20, nor would she have been a studied enough mage) wants freedom for everyone. She's chaotic good.

Rook is a Shadow Dragon who killed slavers a little too hard for an organization dedicated to killing slavers (based Rook). They're also chaotic good, and a bit of an idiot, bless them, who kinda sees everything as a nail because they have a hammer. They see slavery, they fight it. Fuck the consequences. Solas did the same.

So why is Rook not bringing up slavery a lot? Why is Rook only finding out that Solas freed slaves on the regular at the beginning of the game? Did Varric just decide that wasn't worth bringing up to a person whose entire life revolves around ending slavery? Why is Rook not having an existential crisis after talking to Solas and finding out the truth of his past in his memories?

Look, all I'm saying is that I don't understand why more people aren't angry with Mythal and why no one is talking about slavery and racism. The whole point of fantasy and sci-fi, and the point of Dragon Age, is to critique modern society through thinly veiled references. That's why people get so passionate about Star Trek. And yeah, yes, it's necessarily going to make a piece of media more niche, or people are going to bitch about it (especially gamer bros my dude calm down, sorry something is very briefly not about you), but it makes a game *good* and lasting

BG3 did a good job of exploring the themes of trauma and power imbalance, and while some characters I think needed more fleshing out (Wyll my beloved, I owe you a lengthy fanfic for the injustice done to you), it was particularly powerful in Astarion. The people are ready for real exploration of real issues. We always have been. Backing off was a mistake.

ANYWAY I have feelings and none of my friends share my special interest. Here you go.

Why Fenris could Never Cameo in Dragon Age: The Veilguard

In the run up to Dragon age: The Veilguard, I was almost certain that Fenris would be our main legacy character from previous games. Not only has he been central in the comics released between DAI and DATV, he is an escaped Tevinter slave who's plot revolved around magisters, magic and the structural prejudices surrounding elves in Thedas. Not only that, but he's canonically in Tevinter killing slavers currently so he's geographically in the right place for us to meet him.

About halfway through the game though, it was clear to me: Fenris could never cameo in The Veilguard. Because he'd break it.

How the Veilguard treats Thedas is...odd to me, to say the least. I will be writing another post about how much I adored the expanded big lore in this game (the titans, ancient elves were spirits, where the blight came from etc.) and yet while these large lore expansions worked for me, the actual culture of modern Thedas is entirely softened, its sharp edges filed down until it's a sanitised fantasy world devoid of what made the franchise so vibrant and compelling in the first place.

So let's start with Fenris and slavery. In all three games, the reality of slavery is pushing at the corners of the world. In DAO Loghain allows Tevinter Magisters to enslave elves in order to raise money for his war effort. In DA2 Fenris is fighting to be free from slavers who will not leave him be, let alone the reminders that the city was built by slaves which are everywhere. In DAI one of the two possible mini-bosses is Calpurnia who was a slave, and characters such as Gatt and Dorian both show us how much slavery is tied into Tevinters culture and success.

But DATV the first game actually set in Tevinter where we get to see the famed Minrathous...it's like the game purposefully wants to avoid the issue. I can feel it tilting the camera away to not allow me to see. Slavery is mentioned, but never talked about in depth or as a specifically ELVEN problem in Tevinter. This might have been done to be less problematic, it feels ignored.

We are in DOCK TOWN. We are at the DOCKS. You would think that slaves from all over Thedas who are being smuggled and bought by various groups would be everywhere. You would think that the injustice in dock town would be partly built on the back of ships we've seen in the comics crammed with elves in chains. This is the world Dragon age set up for us. And yet...nothing. zilch. A tiny easily skippable side quest where we free a couple of venatori slaves, but only one of whom is an elf.

None of our Tevinter characters seem to have been influenced by their culture even a little bit when it comes to how they view elves; there is no moment when Neve fucks up and says something prejudiced, no moment when Bellara or Davrin are distrustful of her for being a Tevinter mage.

The same goes for Zevran; a character who epitomised the issues with the crows. The crows have consistently been characterised as very morally dubious assassins who kill for the highest bidder and who buy children on the slave market and torture them as they grow in order to assure that they reach maturity able to withstand torture without giving away a client's name. Zevran is very explicit about the fact that if you fail a contract your life is forefit.

Nobody responds particularly to you if you're an elf. Nobody trusts rook less for it in Tevinter. Nobody treats Rook any differently. Even DAI had better mechanics for this; with nobles in Orlais less likely to trust you as an elf.

Considering one of the main plot points of this game and what makes Solas sympathetic is the fact that he was fighting against the slavery of ancient elves...you'd think the game might want to mirror that in modern Thedas. It might want to show us how characters fighting to end slavery in Tevinter are similar to Solas and how the society Solas fought against was similar to the one that characters we love such as Fenris have fought against in modern Thedas. Maybe we'd want to explore how in a world of slavery like this, how could the answer NOT be to tear it all down? Maybe we should have that option at the end of the game so it really can chose whether we agree with Solas and his plans or not.

Adding Fenris to this game would entirely break the game because Fenris refuses to allow you to look away from this horror. He is a sympathetic character who had to learn to trust mages again because of course he didn't trust them. Of course he didn't. Fenris wouldn't allow the camera to shift focus because he's literally covered in the lyrium scars that show how slaves are used as experiments in Tevinter. Fenris WOULD question Neve on how she feels about elves and slaves. Fenris WOULD have things to say about Lucanis and the crows (let alone the fact Lucanis is an abomonation). So he could never be in this game; he'd drop a bomb on it's carefully constructed blinders to the very society its supposed to be set in.

And yet, in DATV, the crows are presented as...a found family of misfits and orphans? The politician who opposes the crows having absolute power in Antiva is framed as a comically evil idiot who doesn't understand that the crows are ontologically good. Yet...they're NOT. Crows in this game act more like a secret rebel group than an assassin organisation. We see no crow taking contracts with the VERY RICH venatori magisters despite being hired killers. We see crows just refuse to kill people despite having a contract because 'its crueler to leave them alive'. The crows don't feel like the crows here, they feel like a softened version of a cool assassin group who are cool because they wear black and purple.

Our pirate group are also sanitised; the Lords of Fortune are good pirates who only steal treasure that's not culturally significant. Theyve clearly read the modern critiques of the British Museum and have decided to explicitly stop anyone levelling similar critiques at them. There is no faction of the Lords of Fortune who aren't like this, no internal arguments about it. Everyone just. Agrees. And is able to accurately tell what a cultural artifact is vs. what treasure that you can have yourself is. Rather than showing us why a pirate stealing cultural artifacts might be bad (like in da2 where such a situation literally causes a coup and a war) it just tells us it's bad. But also pirates are cool so we still want them in our world.

This issue seaps into Thedas and drains it of any of the interesting complexity and ability to SAY anything that this franchise had before this game. It becomes a game about telling and not showing rather than the other way around. The games have ALWAYS asked questions about oppressive structural systems and their interplay with society, religion and culture and how these things can affect even the most well meaning character. Dragon age at its best IS a game about society and how society functions both for and against it's characters and what happens to societies built on cruelty and indifference. The best bad guys dragon age has given us are those who are bad because they embody these systems or have been shaped by them. Our main characters have had to wrestle with questions surrounding how to exist in these systems, fight against them, learn and grow.

Yet every group you come across in DATV is sanitised and cleaned up to the point of being as non problematic as humanly possible. None of our cast of characters have to wrestle with where they came from or the world that shaped them. None of them have to confront their own biases. They start the game perfectly non-problematic and end it that way too.

And this just...isn't what Dragon Age has been in the past. It isn't why I love the franchise. The whole game just felt, in a way, hollow. And this was a CHOICE and it is why the legacy characters are few and far between. Too many dragon age characters are just too...angry and complex for this game. You can feel them pulling their punches on this one. I have to imagine they did this because they didn't want to be criticised or have too much controversy? But I think it honestly goes far too much in the other direction and just makes it bland.

I can't imagine what I say here will be unique, but it is the basis for a LOT of my other thoughts on this game so I wanted to get it out of the way first. The softened Thedas and characters make this game by far the weakest in the franchise.

[nhlclover]

AFTERGLOW RYAN LEONARD

pairing: fem!reader x ryan leonard

summary: a misunderstanding drives you to a island of isolation, making you question yours and ryan's relationship.

warnings: mentions of cheating/unfaithfulness, self-isolation, crying

wc: 2.34k

notes: based on 'afterglow' by taylor swift. i love me some angst with a happy ending😋

You hadn’t meant to see it. That’s what you told yourself over and over again. It wasn’t snooping. 

His phone had lit up beside you on the couch while Ryan was in the kitchen getting drinks. It was instinct, really — just a glance at the sudden brightness in your peripheral vision. But your eyes betrayed you, catching enough of the notification to make your chest tighten.

Brooke Last night was fun! Let’s do it again soon :)

The name hung in your mind, unfamiliar and somehow venomous. Brooke. Not a classmate he’d mentioned, not one of the guys’s girlfriends. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself that Ryan was the most solid, trustworthy man you’d ever known, but curiosity — or was it paranoia? — itched beneath your skin.

You quickly stood, frantically gathering your belongings and shoving them into your bag. You called out to Ryan, telling him you weren’t feeling well and you were going to head back to your dorm. He’d rushed out of the kitchen, catching you just as you were shoving your feet in your boots. 

“A-are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine, just need some rest,” you reassured him, hoping he’d buy your flimsy excuse. The door was open and shut, with you on the other side before Ryan could ask another question. 

The spiral began as soon as you left his apartment. Every glance at your phone felt like a reminder of what you hadn’t asked, hadn’t confronted. You replayed every moment of your relationship in your mind, searching for signs you might have missed. Had he seemed distant? Had he started texting more? Was he pulling away from you?

It wasn’t deliberate at first — not entirely. You told yourself you just needed time to think, to calm down, to process. But each day stretched into the next, the unanswered texts piling up. Hey, is something wrong? turned into Did I do something? and finally Can we please talk? Your heart broke a little more with every message you ignored.

You stopped going to his games, too — a first since you’d started dating. You simply couldn’t bear the thought of sitting in the stands, watching him skate across the ice, wondering if Brooke was sitting somewhere else in the crowd. The thought of it all felt insurmountable. So you stayed home, your own guilt a quiet, gnawing threat.

Ryan’s friends noticed. Of course they did. You’d all become close since you and Ryan started dating, and the change in your behaviours and your absence from games was glaring. Practices were off — Ryan was missing passes, his shots lacked precision, and his usual easy laughter in the locker room was conspicuously absent.

Gabe had always been the observant one, the kind of guy who noticed when something was off long before anyone else caught on. So it didn’t surprise you when he showed up at the library one afternoon, a concerned look etched into his usually easygoing face.

He slid into the seat across from you, ignoring the pile of books and papers scattered in front of you. You tried to put on a smile, but it felt weak, forced.

“How’s it going?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m fine,” you replied, the words coming out automatically. You were fine. You just needed to figure things out, that’s all. You forced yourself to focus on the open textbook in front of you, but Gabe wasn’t buying it.

Gabe leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I know that’s not true,” he said bluntly. “And before you say anything, I’m not here to grill you or get in the middle of anything. But Ryan’s a mess.”

That got your attention. You looked up, heart thudding uncomfortably in your chest. “What do you mean?”

“He’s barely talking to anyone. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. And on the ice?” Gabe shook his head. “He’s not Ryan. He’s off—like, really off. It’s like his head’s not in the game at all.”

Guilt twisted in your stomach, sharp and unrelenting. “I didn’t mean for—” You stopped yourself, biting your lip. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Gabe said. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two. And it’s none of my business. But I do know Ryan’s not the kind of guy who lets just anything mess him up like this. He cares about you. A lot.”

You finally let out a shaky breath, trying to steady your emotions. “I found a message on his phone. From someone named Brooke.”

Gabe’s expression morphed into confusion. “Brooke?” he repeated, frowning. “Who the hell is that?”

You shook your head, feeling the familiar ache in your chest. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard him mention her. And the message... it felt... off. Like something was going on that I didn’t know about.”

Gabe’s brow furrowed as he processed your words. “But Ryan? I can’t see him doing that to you. He’s... he’s not like that. Trust me.”

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” you whispered, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “I can’t just ignore it, Gabe.”

Gabe sat back, tapping his fingers on the table as he thought. “Look, I don’t have all the answers, but you need to talk to him. Maybe there’s a reason for all this. Maybe there’s something you don’t know. But shutting him out isn’t going to help either of you.”

You felt torn. You wanted to believe Gabe, to believe in Ryan and the love you shared. But part of you was terrified of confronting him, of facing the possibility that your fears were real.

“I don’t know if I can,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Gabe studied you for a long moment before leaning forward again, his voice steady but insistent. “You can. You’re stronger than you think, and this — whatever it is — it’s eating both of you alive. Friendsgiving is at my place, Wednesday night. Ryan’s going to be there, and so are you. No excuses.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Gabe raised a hand to stop you. “I’m serious. You don’t even have to talk to him there if you’re not ready. But seeing each other in person? That’s the first step. Take it.”

The next evening, you found yourself hesitating on the porch of Gabe’s house, the soft hum of laughter and conversation drifting out through the windows. Your stomach churned with nerves as you clutched the bottles of wine you brought, the glass cool and grounding against your fingers. You hadn’t seen Ryan in weeks. You didn’t even know how to begin to bridge the chasm that had grown between you.

Before you could turn and flee, Gabe opened the door, grinning like he’d been waiting for you. “There she is! Get in here, we’re just getting started.”

The warmth of the house wrapped around you as you stepped inside, your heart pounding. The inside was warm and chaotic in the way only Friendsgiving could be — mismatched chairs pulled around a too-small table, dishes precariously balanced in a potluck array, laughter and voices overlapping in the candlelight.

You caught sight of Ryan the moment you stepped through the door, standing near the kitchen with a beer in hand. His eyes met yours briefly, widening in surprise. He looked tired — pale, shadows under his eyes, and his usual easy confidence replaced by something far more hesitant. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Jacob intercepted him, clapping a hand on his shoulder and pulling him into a conversation.

Throughout dinner, you found yourself hyper-aware of Ryan’s presence at the opposite end of the table. Occasionally, your eyes would meet, but neither of you spoke. He seemed quieter than usual, laughing at jokes that didn’t quite reach his eyes and pushing food around his plate more than eating it.

After dinner, you ushered everyone into the living room, volunteering to handle the dishes. Your offer was driven partly by a desire to help and partly by a need for a quiet moment to collect your thoughts. A few protested, but you insisted, retreating to the kitchen before anyone could argue further. The rhythmic sound of running water and clinking plates was soothing, a brief respite from the tension.

You didn’t hear Ryan approach at first. It wasn’t until his voice, quiet and hesitant, broke the silence that you turned.

“Need a hand?” Ryan’s voice was quiet, almost tentative.

You glanced over your shoulder. He was standing in the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets, looking at you like he was afraid you might tell him to leave. After a beat, you nodded. “Sure.”

Ryan stepped closer, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt and taking his place beside you at the sink. For a while, neither of you spoke, the clink of dishes and the rush of water filling the silence. You stole glances at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes, the way his shoulders seemed weighed down.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper. “I don’t know what I did, but… whatever it is, I’m sorry.” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “And I know I should know what I did wrong, but I’ve wracked my brain and I just don’t know what I did. But please tell me… let me fix whatever I did.”

You gripped the dishcloth tightly, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest. Ryan had always been the kind of person to face things head-on, but hearing the crack in his voice—seeing the way his shoulders slumped like he’d been carrying the world—broke something inside you.

“It’s not your fault,” you said, your voice trembling. “I—God, I’ve been such a mess, Ryan. I thought I was protecting myself, but all I did was push you away.”

Ryan paused, setting the plate he was drying onto the counter. His eyes searched your face, a mix of confusion and hurt. “Protecting yourself from what?”

You swallowed hard, knowing there was no turning back now. “I saw a message. On your phone. From someone named Brooke. It said, ‘Last night was fun. Let’s do it again soon.’ And I — I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know who she was or what it meant, and instead of asking you, I let it get to me.”

Confusion flickered across his face, then realization. “Brooke?” he repeated. “That’s — God, that’s nothing. She’s my mom’s friend’s daughter. She just started at Boston College, and my mom asked me to show her around. That’s all it was, I swear.”

His words came out in a rush, like he needed you to understand, like he needed to erase every doubt that had built up in your mind. “We grabbed coffee, and I showed her some places on campus. That’s it. I didn’t think it was a big deal, so I didn’t mention it. I never meant for it to come across as something… more.”

Your throat tightened as his explanation sank in. “So… you’re not—”

“No,” Ryan said firmly, stepping closer. “I’m not cheating on you. I would never, ever do that to you.”

The weight you’d been carrying for weeks suddenly felt unbearable, tears springing to your eyes before you could stop them. “Ryan, I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I should’ve come to you. I should’ve trusted you. God, I’m so fucking stupid. I got inside my own head and I-I hurt you.”

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer. His hands found yours, damp from the soapy water. “You didn’t ruin anything. Yeah, it hurt, but I get it. I just wish you’d come to me instead of dealing with it on your own.”

“I was scared,” you admitted, tears spilling over. “Scared of losing you, scared of finding out I wasn’t enough.”

Ryan’s grip on your hands tightened, his thumbs brushing gently over your knuckles. His voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable softness in it, a warmth that wrapped around your heart. “You are enough,” he said firmly. “You’ve always been enough. You’re all I want. Nothing — no one — could ever change that.”

Tears streamed freely down your face now, but Ryan didn’t seem to care. He released one of your hands and reached up to gently wipe the tears away with his thumb. “I was so stupid,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I should have trusted you. I should have talked to you instead of running away.”

Ryan shook his head, a small, sad smile on his lips. “Hey, we all mess up. Relationships aren’t perfect. But we don’t have to let this break us. We’re going to be okay. I promise.”

You looked up at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your chest ache. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know us,” he said simply. “I know what we have. And I know we can get through this, as long as we’re honest with each other. No more shutting each other out. Deal?”

You nodded, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Deal.”

Ryan let out a soft sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever. “You scared me,” he admitted quietly. “When you pulled away like that, I thought… I thought I was losing you. And that terrified me.”

The idea that you’d made him feel even a fraction of the fear and doubt you’d been drowning in made your heartache. “You’ll never lose me,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears. “Not if I can help it. I’m sorry for putting you through this, for doubting you when you’ve never given me a reason to.”

Ryan smiled softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We’re okay,” he murmured against your skin. “We’ll be okay.”

For the first time in weeks, the tightness in your chest began to ease, replaced by the comforting warmth of Ryan’s presence.

[oddthumbswetsleeves]

Hiding - Oneshot

Inspired by this post by @crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington <3

“Have you heard from B today?”

Elita-1 looked up from her datapad at her former-incompetent-subordinate turned leader. He looked stressed, or maybe nervous? It was hard to tell ever since he received the matrix.

“No. I haven’t seen him since the last time he messed up putting the supplies in storage.’ She looked back at the forms she was filling out. “He’s probably avoiding us cause he’s embarrassed.

“Embarrassed?” Optimus sounded confused. Elita realised she had neglected to tell the prime about B’s latest incident.

“He put a lot of the supplies he was sorting into the wrong places. I mean, seriously! I gave him possibly the easiest job I could have, and he still messed it up.” Optimus didn’t look like her answer had put him at ease. “He’ll be fine. If he’s embarrassed it might teach him to listen a little more.”

“Just-“ They met optics, “Tell me if you see him, or if you can get through to him. He won’t answer my comms.” He sighed. “I’m worried.”

He definitely looked nervous now.

“Yeah, sure.” Elita went back to reading. Optimus was silent for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else, but left quickly.

Once he was out of audial-range she tried B-127’s comm, certain Optimus was exaggerating. B never missed an opportunity to blabber.

“B”

Nothing

“B-127, respond.”

Still nothing

“B, this isn’t funny. Answer me.”

Silence

Elita never thought she would be able to use that word to describe the yellow bot. She started feeling slightly worried before it was replaced with something else.

How dare he hide away from his duties as an Autobot because he was embarrassed. He wasn’t the only one struggling with his new status. Being the Autobot commander and essentially second-in-command of Cybertron was exhausting. Every moment she wasn’t recharging or refuelling she was working. B was not going to get away with skirting his duties.

She was gonna find him.

Where the frag was he?

Elita had spent nearly half the orn asking around for the little mech. No one had seen him since she had. Not Jazz, not Ratchet, not even Prowl, who was usually aware of all Autobot activity. The other scouts had gibed her about B-127’s unrivalled skills in what they called “Extreme Hide and Seek”.

“If B’s hiding from you there’s no chance you’ll find him” one taunted. Primus, she hated being around the scouts, nosy bunch.

“Wait, why do you think he’s hiding from me?”

“Why else would you be looking for him? He’s told us about how busy you are.” Another one answered.

“Well, you’re not helping!” She stormed off before they could peeve her off more.

Elita was definitely getting hangry, so she decided to stop to get energon before anyone could risk mentioning it to her. Everyone had really been enjoying the abundance of it. The decreasing rations had been affecting the cogless bots hard. She remembered after being transferred to waste management seeing how some of the supervisors were stealing others rations off the delivery lines for themselves. That was one of the first things she fixed, especially since many of the bots on lower levels didn’t leave their stations during their breaks. Mostly the bots on the sub-

The sub-levels

“The best hiding spots are ones that other bots don’t know exist.” B-127 told her that once while he was training to be a scout. He was mostly talking about places that taller bots couldn’t get to, but almost no one knew about the 10 extra sub-levels.

“Scrap”

The elevator rattled more the lower it went. It was also getting noticeably hotter. The doors opened and after stepping out they surprisingly didn’t close behind her. Strange. She didn’t say anything at first, trying to hear any noise that wasn’t coming from the furnace.

She felt isolated.

Even though Elita knew she could contact anyone she wanted instantly, there was just something about the room emanated loneliness, but B had to be here.

She looked around. The room was small, nothing besides the furnace, the conveyor belt, and the trash chute.

Unless…

One of the walls seemed to have a handle, and when she moved it... Another room! She pushed it over.

What on Cybertron?

The walls were lined with multicolour string lights. The room had a table and chairs, but in the chairs were 3 piles of trash. They were kind of bot shaped. She guessed one of these were what “Steve” was, who Orion supposedly killed and D-16 insisted wasn’t real. Primus this guy was weird. Just before she turned away, she saw it. There was something golden-yellow barely poking up from behind the table. Elita had to stop herself from groaning. Some hiding expert he was.

“B” He didn’t move. Elita crossed her arms.

“B-127 I can see you.” He slowly ducked out of view. Elita’s face scrunched up, “Get out here right now or so help me, I will drag you back up to Iacon by your finials.”

The bot cautiously stood up, looking anywhere except her face. Neither one said anything for a few moments. Elita tapped her finger against her arm, making sure B could hear it. He still did not say anything. Elita started feeling nervous again, B didn’t even recharge this quietly. She wouldn’t show it though, he wasn’t getting any pity from her.

“Well?” she prompted.

“Why are you down here?” He asked quietly.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Elita leaned forward, but B still didn’t look up. “Why are you hiding? Do you think I’ll just forget your screw-up if I don’t see you for a few orns?”

“I’m not hiding. You know I’m here now, you can go back to work.” He fidgeted with his servos.

“What, so you can keep sulking here?”

“I’m not sulking.” His voice was low, but a bit rough.

Had he been crying?

“Then why are you down here?”

“You were really mad at me the last time I messed up. You said I was running out of chances.”

“So?” Her gaze steeled. His breath hitched.

Was he going to cry again?

“Well, that’s what supervisors used to say to me before I would get demoted” their optics met, “and you were a supervisor…”

“So, you came down here?” She gripped her arms a bit tighter.

“I’ve never had a boss who was my friend before.” He looked down at his servos, still keeping his voice low. “I just didn’t want to see your face when you decided to give up on me.” Fluid dripped from his optics.

“Give up?” Her voice was suddenly much softer. She cleared her throat. “Why would you think I’d give up on you? We’re friends, you said it yourself.”

“Megatron was Optimus’ friend, and he dropped him to the centre of Cybertron.”

Elita felt a pang in her spark. That might have been the scariest moment of her life, including everything that happened leading up to it. B had been the one to stop her from trying to grab Orion as he plummeted. In the frenzy she might have fallen after him. B had probably saved her life.

She was definitely failing to hide her pity now.

They were both silent for a while, the furnace rumbling softly behind her. Elita sighed and walked around the table. B shrunk under her gaze. This was the first time she had ever felt bad about making a subordinate scared of her. She put her servos on his shoulders, taking care to be gentle, and bent down slightly to be at optic level with the scout.

He was definitely crying.

Elita wrapped her arms around him tightly. He tentatively moved his servos up to her back. She felt him shake.

“Are you not mad at me?” B’s voice quivered. She sighed, squeezing tighter.

“I’m not sure I am anymore.” Letting go to hold his shoulders again. He sniffled and she moved her servos to cup his face. “Why haven’t you answered any comms? Optimus is practically beside himself.”

“I didn’t know you guys were calling me.”

“What?! Is your commlink broken?” She turned his helm to look at his audials. He pulled her servos away from his face. They had tears on them.

“No.” He looked towards the furnace. “I’m pretty sure no signals reach down here from the surface.

Elita’s face scrunched. She turned away, reaching a digit up to her commlink.

“Optimus, come in.”

No response. She swore quietly.

“We’re going back to Iacon before the boss starts pulling walls down to find you.” She held her servo out. B hesitated.

“He’s looking for me?”

“Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?” B tapped his pedes nervously.

“I thought you guys were kinda fed up of me.” Elita chose not to address that. She grabbed his servo and pulled him towards the elevator. It was still open.

“How come these doors didn’t close behind me?”

“Cause they don’t open from this side. It’s so if somebot comes down here to get something they won’t get stuck.”

“But that means…” Her spark sank in her chassis.

“Yeah, I can’t call the elevator.”

She stared at him. She felt the rage she frequently had for Sentinel and his lackeys build up.

“So you planned on staying down here forever?” B started wringing his servos again.

“I dunno”

“Well how would you have come back up if I hadn’t found you here?”

“Optimus, Megatron and I climbed up through the chute.” He pointed at it. “I probably could have done that again.”

“Would you have?”

B didn’t answer.

“You’re coming back to Iacon with me.” She put a servo on his shoulder. “I cleared my schedule when I went looking for you so we can do whatever you want, ok?” She led him into the lift. He shrugged. “There are a couple movies I’ve been too busy to watch. We can watch them in my quarters if you want.”

“Sure” He smiled for the first time since she found him.

“We do have to go see Prime first. I’m a bit worried he has actually turned headquarters upside down in my absence.” B giggled. Elita felt a weight lift off her spark. Once the elevator started moving, she pulled him into another hug, more forcefully this time.

“Never scare me like that again, or I will actually kill you.”

“Okay”

[velvrei]

sparks on the mat

pairing: axel kovacevic x reader

just a little blurb nothing much :)

word count: under 1k words

…

the gym buzzed with the excitement of the sekai takai.

the air smelled faintly of sweat and polished wooden floors, and the echoes of kiais from sparring competitors bounced off the walls.

you adjusted your belt nervously, the knot slightly crooked but holding firm. it was one of your first tournaments, and you were painfully aware of how much you stood out among the seasoned competitors.

still, you had made it this far, and you were determined to give it your best.

across the gym, axel stretched casually near the mats.

his bright red hair caught the light, messy but oddly fitting for someone who carried himself with such confidence. he wore his iron dragon suit, ready for his match.

the announcer’s voice crackled over the pa system. “next match: y/n l/n versus axel kovacevic, round 3.”

your heart skipped a beat. “great,” you muttered, wiping their palms on their gi.

“my first match, and it’s against someone who looks like they’ve been doing this since birth.”

as you approached the mat, axel turned to meet them with a friendly grin. “hey, first sekai takai?” he asked, offering a hand.

“is it that obvious?” you replied, shaking his hand. his grip was firm but not intimidating.

“just a little,” he teased. “but don’t worry. first matches are always the hardest. just focus on breathing, and you’ll be fine.”

you chuckled nervously. “thanks. i’ll try not to embarrass myself too much.”

you bowed to each other and took your stances as the referee called for the match to begin.

your nerves were on high alert, but axel’s earlier kindness helped ease the tension.

the match started slow, with axel testing your defenses with light jabs and kicks.

you blocked clumsily but managed to hold your ground. after a few exchanges, axel feinted left and aimed a kick at your torso, but you reacted instinctively, sidestepping and landing a light tap to his shoulder.

the referee called, “point!”

axel stepped back, visibly impressed. “nice one! that was quick.”

you blinked, surprised at your own success. “really? i mean—thanks!”

the match continued, with axel clearly holding back just enough to keep things competitive but encouraging. you managed to score another point before axel ultimately won, but by the end, you were both smiling through your exhaustion.

after the match, axel walked over, offering a fist bump. “you’ve got so much potential, y/n. keep at it, and you’ll be moving up in no time.”

you returned the gesture, grinning. “thanks, axel. and, uh, good luck with the rest of the tournament. i’ll be rooting for you.”

axel’s grin widened. “appreciate it. maybe we’ll spar again someday. you’re pretty fun to fight.”

as he walked away, you couldn’t help but feel a new spark of confidence. they weren’t just some rookie out of their depth anymore—they were someone axel thought was fun.

maybe the sekai takai wasn’t so bad after all!

…

hope you guys found this cute, it’s incredibly generic but 🙏

taglist: @karmaswitch

[p0orbaby]

I have a possible blurb request for mary earps please??

r still lives in england and mary’s over with psg. mary comes back from paris for international duty and finally gets to see r again.

maybe mary surprises r by coming back a day early and comes home to see r in mary’s psg shirt

-

The flat is too quiet, but you’ve learned to live with that. Mary’s voice used to echo through the place—she’s not exactly subtle when she’s home—but with her in Paris, it’s been quieter. Not lonely, exactly. Just… quieter.

Now, the only noise comes from the hum of the kettle and the faint tinny sound of some reality TV rerun you’ve half-watched four times already. You’re standing in the kitchen, her oversized PSG shirt hanging off you, half-distracted as you wait for the water to boil. It’s the away kit—black and gold—soft from too many washes. She left it behind, and you’ve convinced yourself she wouldn’t mind.

The kettle clicks off. You pour the water over a tea bag, take a sip too soon, and immediately regret your life choices.

It’s fine. It’s all fine. You’ve survived this long-distance thing so far, even if it’s been weeks since you’ve had so much as a proper hug. Mary texts, she calls, she sends voice notes when she’s bored on team buses, but it’s not the same. You keep busy—work, friends, this new phase of your life where you apparently cosplay as a PSG superfan when no one’s looking.

Then there’s a sound. A faint jingle of keys.

You freeze.

No one else has keys.

“Don’t freak out,” comes a voice from the door. Familiar. Dry. A little smug.

Your tea sloshes onto the counter as you whip around, heart hammering.

Mary’s standing there, suitcase at her feet, coat hanging off one shoulder like she’s just walked out of a bloody rom-com. Except this is your kitchen, and rom-com Mary probably wouldn’t be grinning so much at the sight of you in her shirt.

“You’re back,” you say, because your brain is apparently still catching up.

“Early,” she clarifies, stepping inside. She looks far too pleased with herself, green eyes glittering as she takes you in. “Nice shirt, by the way”

You look down like you’ve forgotten what you’re wearing. “Oh, this old thing? Found it lying around”

“Hmm. Looks better on you, honestly.” She sets her suitcase aside and crosses the room in two strides, pulling you into her arms before you can think of a reply.

The hug is as good as you remembered. Maybe better. Her warmth seeps into you, and you breathe in the familiar scent of her—something clean, fresh, with an undertone of cheap hotel shampoo.

“God, I missed you,” she mutters against your hair.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming back early”

“Yeah, well.” She pulls back just enough to look at you, hands still on your waist. “I thought a surprise might be fun. Looks like I was right”

You laugh softly, looping your arms around her neck. “You were right. For a change”

She tilts her head, grinning. “This time? How often am I wrong?”

You don’t answer, just kiss her instead. It’s been too long, and judging by the way she immediately tightens her grip on you, she feels the same.

When you finally pull away, you’re both a little breathless.

“So,” she says, voice lighter now, “are you going to keep that shirt on, or do I get my wardrobe back?”

You raise an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m giving it back?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, her grin turning cheeky as she leans in, voice dropping just enough to make your heart stutter. “I might have a few ideas to convince you”

Your tea goes cold on the counter, but you don’t really care.

[avvwritesstufff]

𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙄𝙩 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠

𝙋𝙍𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙀𝙒- For nearly eight months, Nicole and Paige had been secretly entangled in a relationship that felt equal parts thrilling and dangerous. They’d always known each other, but everything shifted during last year’s tournament. Paige, the star basketball player, and Nicole, the cheer captain—it was the kind of romance that belonged in a teen drama, full of stolen glances and whispered promises. Paige was known for being a player, but with Nicole, it was supposed to be different. Paige swore she loved her, that she’d do anything for her. And for a while, Nicole believed it. Even when she caught Paige in compromising situations more than once, she let it slide. Paige always promised it wouldn’t happen again. Nicole wanted to believe her. She needed to believe her.

𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙈𝙀𝙎- Angst, gaslighter!paige and gullible!oc

𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏- 1.8k+

𝘼/𝙉- this is NOT read over or anything and it’s so bad so i’m sorry i had to curse your tumblr with this☹���

It was a chilly evening in Storrs, the kind of night where the crisp air made everything feel sharper, more alive. Nicole had just gotten back from her late-night class, feeling the fatigue of the day settle in. Usually, evenings like this were reserved for hanging out with Paige, but tonight was different. Paige had canceled last minute for some team bonding activity that her Coach had insisted on. Nicole didn’t take it personally—she’d been through plenty of those herself and understood how it went.

Still, the change in routine left her at a loose end.

As she kicked off her shoes and considered an early night, her phone buzzed. It was her friends, Hailee, Angie, and Brooklyn.

“You have to come out with us tonight,” Angie insisted. “We haven’t seen you since school started! You’ve practically gone ghost!”

Nicole hesitated, guilt creeping in. They weren’t wrong. Ever since things with Paige had deepened, she’d pulled back from everyone else without really noticing. “Okay, fine. I’m in,” she finally agreed, knowing they wouldn’t take no for an answer.

The best part of going out, Nicole thought as she rummaged through her closet, was always the getting-ready phase. Her dorm buzzed with energy as Hailee, Angie, and Brooklyn arrived, makeup bags in hand.

Loud music blasted from the TV as they crowded around the small mirror, trading tips and compliments while brushes and eyeliner flew around. For the first time in what felt like forever, Nicole let herself relax, laughing at their inside jokes and soaking in the warmth of their company.

“Alright, Nikki,” Angie teased, narrowing her eyes as she applied her lipstick. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

Nicole froze mid-swipe of mascara. “What?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“Oh, come on,” Angie pressed, smirking. “We’re not dumb. You’ve been MIA, and don’t think we haven’t noticed that hickey on your neck.”

Nicole’s hand shot to her neck instinctively. She laughed awkwardly, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not like that. My classes have just been insane this semester.” She stood up quickly and made her way to the kitchen.

Angie raised a skeptical brow, following her. “Right, because classes leave perfectly placed hickeys on your neck. Sure, Nikki. Tell us another one.”

Nicole sighed, realizing she wouldn’t win this battle. “Fine! Yes, I’ve been seeing someone. But it’s really not a big deal.”

Angie’s eyes lit up. “Oh my God, spill! What’s his name?”

Nicole hesitated, thinking fast. “Um… Paul. His name’s Paul. He’s sweet. And hot.”

“Paul?” Angie repeated, tilting her head. “Alright, what’s his last name? Let me look him up on Instagram.”

“Oh, he’s not on Insta,” Nicole replied quickly, pouring herself two shots from the freezer. “He’s more of an off-the-grid kind of guy.”

Angie frowned but before she could press further, Nicole checked her phone. “Wow, would you look at that? It’s already 9:30. Time to go!”

The subject was dropped—for now—as they hurried to get their coats and head out.

The four of them piled into Hailee’s boyfriend’s car, who kindly dropped them off at the local bar. As they walked in, Nicole took in the lively atmosphere: the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the low beat of music in the background.

The girls claimed a corner table, but Nicole made a beeline for the bar. She ordered a Dirty Shirley—Paige’s favorite—and as the bartender handed her the drink, it hit her.

She hadn’t talked to Paige all night.

PB💕

3:36 pm

Coach said I can't be

on my phone during this

thing, I'll call you later if

I'm not exhausted

Love you💕

(nikki❤️this message)

hey p,

i haven’t heard from

you and wanted to make

sure everything was going

good, i love u❤️

Nicole set her phone down and glanced up, and there she was—Paige. In the middle of the crowded room. With another girl.

Nicole froze. The world around her seemed to blur, her focus locked on the scene unfolding before her. All she could do was sit there, paralyzed, as disbelief washed over her. Paige wasn’t just with someone else—she had lied. And to Nicole, that was the most jarring part. Paige never lied. At least, that’s what Nicole thought she knew.

Time dragged, stretching what was barely a minute into what felt like hours. Finally, Paige looked her way. Their eyes met. Nicole felt a tear slip down her cheek, unbidden and unwelcome. The moment Paige saw her, Nicole broke the connection, pushing herself up and weaving through the tightly packed bodies in the bar. She needed air.

Outside, the cool night air hit her face as she sank onto the steps, staring blankly ahead. Her tears threatened to fall, but she blinked them away, determined not to let them win.

The door burst open behind her.

“Nik! Nicole—thank God. Please, let me explain!” Paige’s voice was frantic as she scanned for her.

Nicole didn’t turn, didn’t flinch. She just stared ahead, her face expressionless.

Paige moved closer. “Ma, come on—” she reached out, her hand brushing Nicole’s arm.

“Don’t touch me.” Nicole’s voice was flat, cold, devoid of the warmth Paige once knew. She jerked her arm away.

Paige knelt in front of her, her voice softer now, pleading. “Let’s go home, Nik. We can talk about this. You’re the only one I care about, you know that. I don’t even know that girl’s name—she came up to me, I swear.”

Nicole hesitated. Her mind raced, torn between fleeing and confronting the betrayal. She exhaled sharply.

“Fine. But let me say goodbye to my friends first.”

Paige nodded, following closely as Nicole re-entered the bar. Nicole wiped her face quickly, masking her turmoil as she approached her friends.

“Guys, don’t kill me,” she said with a forced laugh. “I’ve got an important assignment due in an hour. I promise I’ll stay longer next time!”

They groaned but hugged her goodbye, none of them catching the storm beneath her calm exterior.

Outside again, the silence between them was heavy. Once in the car, Paige started the engine, glancing nervously at Nicole.

“Nicole, you know you’re the only one I want. I was trying to push her off me, I promise—”

“No.” Nicole’s voice cut her off, sharp and steady. “Stop that. You don’t get to promise or swear on anything anymore. You’re a liar, Paige. And I’m not stupid. This isn’t the first girl, and it won’t be the last.”

Her voice cracked, but she kept her eyes fixed ahead. Paige reached out, but Nicole flinched.

“Baby, come on. You know I’d never—”

“Stop calling me that,” Nicole snapped, her voice rising. “You’re a narcissistic piece of shit, and I never should’ve agreed to this. You can’t commit to anything but basketball.”

Paige’s jaw tightened, her frustration bubbling over. “Nik, what the fuck. You don’t even know what you’re saying.”

Nicole let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m saying. How many, Paige? How many girls have you cheated on me with? Actually, forget it—I don’t want to know. Let me out.”

“What? Are you serious? The car’s moving, Nicole!” Paige veered onto the shoulder, her voice rising.

“Let me out!” Nicole fumbled with her seatbelt, finally yanking the door open.

“Nicole, stop! You’re drunk!” Paige shouted, pulling the car to a screeching halt as Nicole stumbled onto the pavement.

Ignoring her, Nicole began walking down the dark street.

“Nicole, get back in the car!” Paige called after her, panic lacing her voice. “I’m not leaving you out here in the cold!”

“Leave me alone, Paige. My dorm’s two blocks away.” Nicole’s voice was slurred but defiant as she staggered forward.

Paige caught up to her, grabbing her arm just as Nicole tripped. She steadied her, their eyes meeting. For a brief moment, Nicole saw a flicker of the Paige she had fallen for—the girl who had made the last eight months feel like a dream.

Without a word, Nicole turned and walked back to the car. Paige followed, a small, hopeful smile creeping onto her face.

“Just because i’m in the car doesn’t mean we are good paige” nicole states turning toward the door and leaning against it

The ride back was short, but the silence between them was deafening.

When they arrived at the apartment building, Paige helped Nicole out of the car, steadying her as they walked to her dorm. The night air was cold, but the silence between them was colder.

At the door, Paige hesitated, then pushed it open and followed Nicole inside.

“Out,” Nicole said, her voice low and sharp, pointing at the door.

Paige ignored her, forcing a soft smile. “Baby, you’re just drunk. I don’t wanna leave you alone like this.” She closed the door behind her and gently guided Nicole toward her bedroom.

Nicole didn’t argue, too drained to fight. She sat on the edge of her bed, watching Paige through tired, narrowed eyes. Paige set her phone down on the nightstand and knelt in front of her, slipping off Nicole’s shoes with care.

“I got you,” Paige murmured, her voice soft, almost tender. She helped Nicole out of her jacket, then started removing her makeup with a tissue from the bedside table.

Nicole didn’t say a word, just stared at Paige, trying to decide if this was love or manipulation.

“I’m gonna grab you some water,” Paige said, standing up. “Try to lie down.”

As Paige left the room, Nicole let out a shaky breath. Her eyes landed on the phone Paige had left on the nightstand. It lit up with a notification.

Snapchat: Nessa🤫🍑📞

Nicole’s stomach churned. She picked up the phone, her fingers trembling as she unlocked it—no password. The messages stared back at her:

Nessa🤫🍑📞: When are you gonna be here? I neeeed you, Paige.

Nessa🤫🍑📞: Bro, are you seriously ignoring me because of that girl you’re “with”? Like, come on, Paige. You know I’m the one—not her.🙄

Nicole’s blood ran cold. Every doubt, every suspicion she’d tried to push aside slammed into her like a freight train.

Paige walked back in, a glass of water in hand. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Nicole standing there, holding her phone.

Nicole handed it to her without a word. “Get out.”

Paige opened her mouth, but the look in Nicole’s eyes stopped her. It wasn’t anger; it was something colder, something final. Nicole stepped past her and opened the door, standing silently as she waited.

Paige hesitated, her fingers tightening around her phone. She wanted to fight, to explain, but she knew better. She could come back tomorrow. She always did. Say she was sorry, promise Nicole the world, and somehow, break it right back.

Without a word, Paige walked out.

Nicole closed the door, locking it behind her. She leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. The tears came then, silent but relentless, each one carving out a piece of the love she’d held for Paige.

For the first time, she let herself wonder if she could ever put the pieces back together.

[olderthannetfic]

Knitting question!

Intellectually I know failure is fine. I'm a beginner! I'm learning! Mistakes are part of the process! But I find it really hard not to be demotivated by projects not turning out how I want

I spent all this time and materials on this and it's just kinda shit?

Did you experience that/have any advice?

--

I definitely experienced that when I first tried knitting. I don't remember, but I suspect it's why I drifted away from the craft for nearly two decades.

I have a couple of semi-failures from my current re-entry into knitting. I intend to frog or partially frog them and re-knit, but there are other projects I care more about that are taking priority so far.

Right now, I love watching youtube videos with little tricks to improve one's knitting or deep dives into technical matters. I find information on fiber fascinating. I think that has helped me avoid many of the problems I experienced the first time around. Even if I run into an issue now, I can probably redo the project to make it how I want.

I think the first thing to figure out is how it's kind of shit. Yes, yes, you're a n00b, but there are lots of reasons projects turn out shitty. Some issues require a lot of practice. Many issues require reading a blog post explaining some technical thing and instantly upgrading your knowledge.

--

For example:

When I first got back into knitting, I got some pretty green yarn and made a Medieval-looking hood. I had no clue how alpaca behaved or that it would be waaaay too flowy for the look the pattern was supposed to have. I was also knitting the pattern with the wrong size of yarn, needle, etc. It turned out way too big for me and a formless blob. It was also itchy.

A year or two later, I threw it in the dryer, and now it's an epic rainy day hood. It's mostly not itchy because the felting stuck down all those hairy ends. It has a lot more body now because it's felt instead of flowy hand-knit alpaca. (And, hey, it's even more Medieval since those hoods were often felt but not often knitted as far as I could tell.)

What went wrong here was mostly that I knew fuckall about fiber. I knew I was making it in some randomass size and didn't really care that it was too big, but I didn't know it would slither off of me due to alpaca's drape. I didn't need practice: I needed someone to tell me how alpaca behaves.

--

Example 2:

I knit that Owls sweater and didn't like how it had no shaping... so I winged it. I ended up with really bizarre shaping because 1. I had no idea what I was doing and 2. I didn't close the underarm holes until the very end, so the sweater appeared to fit when I tried it on.

I could open the underarms back up and knit a separate piece for them, but I realized that I dislike the fabric overall. I knit it on a too-big needle (in my opinion). I thought I liked that looseness in my swatch, but I have changed my mind. I was also worried about running out of yarn (since it's a used yarn that I won't find again), but I had tons left over. I also think I want it more cropped. The yarn has a sort of nasty texture but beautiful color, and I knit quite a tight (and thus scratchy) sweater. I don't think I wet blocked it though, so that might fix the texture.

What I should actually do here, assuming I don't just get rid of the thing in favor of better yarn, is frog it and reknit from the top down, reversing the pattern and not having a phase with the underarms open like that. I should also knit it at a tighter gauge but with a little more positive ease, and I should trust that the stretchiness of wool will make it conform to my body just fine without a lot of shaping. Before any of that, I should wet block it and see how the texture changes.

I don't really consider this a permanent failure. I like the Owls themselves. I can easily just knit this again and get a sweater I want to wear... possibly a cardigan, now that I think about it. The yarn is a relatively robust wool that will be fine being frogged and reused, and knitting it gave me more experience with finishing a whole sweater. My various fuckups taught me things about both knitting and my personal taste.

I guess it could be demotivating because it took a while, but on that bigass needle, it really didn't take that long. I would probably always have knit multiple sweaters from this pattern. I see more than one in my future anyway.

Experience was an issue here, but it wasn't experience with the literal act of knitting. My tension was fine. It was more that I fucked around and found out.

--

Example 3:

I made a self-drafted BTS sweater out of another batch of used yarn that I'll never get more of. I love the body. the sleeves are too tight in the upper arm, and my bizarre-ass design for the top of the body means that the sweater wants to be a boat neck but also fit differently in the sleeves and... gaaaaah. The tight sleeves don't feel bad, but what they do do is make the whole sleeve slide down my arm weirdly because of the fit issues around the boat neck.

Part of why the upper arm area is so tight is that I was worried I'd run out of yarn (which I did) and I wanted a balloon sleeve rather than a straight one. The yarn is so stiff that the balloon part is weird, and the two other purple yarns I added for the lower sleeve look weird. I should have reversed their order because one matches too well, and now it just looks like I ran out and had to add a last inch in a random other yarn. I have most of those two skeins left hanging around and a sweater that fits strangely.

Also... it needs hand washing but is shaped and sized to be worn against bare skin, so it gets stinky after a few hours of wear because I am a sweaty, sweaty person.

In this case, I wouldn't redo the body: this silk blend will look less nice after frogging, and I already roughed it up a lot knitting the damn thing the first time. I knit it starting at the top, so the weird fit across the shoulders is mostly here to stay.

However, I'm pretty sure the bad fit on the sleeves can be fixed by ripping back and adding a bunch of width up top. I can also start with the flowier other two yarns and maybe have bands of this stiffer one that I used in the body. I suspect the weird body fit is fixable by changing what the sleeves are supposed to be doing.

This is another case of fucking around and finding out, so I'm not too disappointed in it. I did wear it to Yoongi's concert too, and it was gorgeous, if too hot.

I do realize now that I hate boat necks, but I think I can put up with this one if the sleeves aren't constantly sliding out of place.

And if fixing the sleeves doesn't rescue this, I might attempt some surgery one of these days, but that's more of a pain in the ass, so that will definitely have to wait.

--

Now, my guess is that your "kind of shit" is not "I freehanded a sweater two seconds after getting back into knitting because I'm a crazy person, and I messed up the shaping".

The more common problems are things like:

Not realizing that you should block or not blocking aggressively enough, so your stitches look way more uneven than they need to, the shape is weird compared to the example pics in the pattern, etc.

Using assy bind-offs so the edge looks amateur instead of polished. (You can go back and fix this.)

Failing to swatch, and now you've knit the wrong size.

Picking a fiber that just cannot do what you want it to—usually seen in people trying to avoid wool and not getting that 99.999999% of trendy patterns are written specifically for wool. I have an ancient sweater from college that looks nothing like the example in the book because all I could afford was big box store acrylic. Never again the plastic horror!

Buying patterns from a size 0 lifestyle blogger aspirational knitwear designer with no boobs and a great photographer, then feeling dumpy when trying the thing on under crappy lighting. This one usually requires a little more self confidence and some bust darts.

Making things in plain stockinette in a light color and smooth yarn like cotton that shows EVERY SINGLE TIME your tension wasn't machinelike. This is unfixable. Don't do this.

--

If you're using mohair or alpaca, frogging may be more trouble than it's worth, but you often can reuse the materials. Granted, you've still sunk that time in, but the materials don't always have to be wasted. That might help it feel more like time you spent practicing and less like a complete disaster.

I'm a very product-focused knitter, so I don't really have practice pieces. I'm knitting to have a Thing and I want to wear that Thing, so I get the disappointment if you don't end up wanting to actually use what you've made.

But that also helps me not get totally demotivated. I still want that Thing and now I have a clearer idea how to make it.

So... what are these "kinda shit" projects anyway? What about them do you not like?

[cuntressgoingdigital]

BAD HABIT | abby anderson x reader - college au!!

free palestine! click this link for more info

synopsis: you catch abby's eye during class and she becomes determined to make you her's. unfortunately, she can't bring herself to just outright admit her feelings, forcing herself through weeks of yearning and agony.

notes: i have been sitting on this since early october. finally finished it up! gets kinda rambly midway through. can you tell i love writing abby as a gay loser? titled after bad habit by steve lacy :P

cw: 18+ content MDNI, reader referred to as a girl, alcohol ment, dom! reader (if you squint), inexperienced! abby, no smut technically (but def not sfw), abby doesn't know how to communicate

word count: 4.9k

it was abby’s final year of college. she was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. the last three years had been a horrendous rollercoaster of trials and tribulations. all of her classes were rigorous and extremely involved. it felt like she never slept, ate, or had any time to herself. she had a couple friends, but nothing too serious. in reality, they were probably closer to acquaintances. she made the mistake of following her boyfriend halfway across the country to attend the same college as him. all of her friends were his friends and their breakup, while semi-amicable, set her back as far as friendships go. 

it wasn’t that she wasn’t good at making friends, she just didn’t have the time. making friends in your senior year of college was its own special beast. nobody wants to go out of their way to foster new friendships because of their temporary nature. everyone was applying for grad school, hoping to get as far away from home as possible. living off campus isolates you, ripping you away from the forced community that comes with living in a dormitory.

none of that mattered. abby was perfectly fine by her lonesome.

she had never felt compelled to establish a connection until she stepped foot into her french romantic literature class. everyone called it a gimme class. do the readings, write your reviews and reports, easy A. it was a low level class and she needed the elective credit, so why not? it was an 8AM, but she had dealt with worse. 

she was setting up her ipad and pencil when she felt someone brush past the back of her chair. she looked up and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. she swears she had never seen a girl more beautiful than you. it felt like one of those cheesy rom coms where all the sound in the room dropped out, the entire world slowed, and your smile lit up the room. 

“sorry!” you whispered, making your way a few chairs down and getting as comfortable as possible on those horrid plastic chairs. 

every day for two weeks she just watched you from afar. abby perked up every time you raised your hand to give insight on that week’s readings. you were intimidatingly smart. everything you said, she couldn’t have possibly come up with. she hadn’t missed a single day of class so far. 

but, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to you. a simple “hi, nice to meet you” wouldn’t cut it. she didn’t want to come off as creepy or nonchalant. she needed a plan. 

one day you had left your bag open on your desk and abby caught a glimpse of a novel. it wasn’t one of the books that was required reading for class. was it a leisure read? immediately, she looked up the title and read the synopsis. 

she couldn’t fathom any way to make a book sound less interesting.

alas, at this point she was committed. 

that afternoon, during a small break between classes, she made her way to the library. after wandering on one of the floors for too long, she finally found the novel in question. the plan was to read it, hope that you left your bag open again, and ask about it after class. simple enough. 

she took the elevator down to the first floor and brought the book up to the check out desk. there was no one behind the desk and she wondered if she should come back later.

“sorry!” 

abby knew that voice. 

you sauntered out from the hidden staff area behind the desk. abby felt stupid for letting her crush affect her like this. her face was hot, she had to make a concerted effort to breathe evenly, and suddenly she forgot how to socialize. all she could do was stiffly set the book on the desk. 

“aren’t you in my class? french romantic lit, right?” you took the book in your hands and flipped it to the back cover to scan the barcode on the corner. 

“uh, yeah. i think so?” she had never felt more awkward in her life, sliding her student ID across the desk. 

“well, it’s nice to meet you…” you pick up the plastic card and read over it. “abby.”

there was a quiet beep and abby stood there awkwardly trying to think of something to say. “have you read this book before?” she blurted out. “i just…the reviews seemed to be pretty split. people either love it or hate it, y’know?”

a smile stretched across your face. you were clearly more than delighted to give your thoughts, recommendations for other books, and authors who had a similar writing style. abby thought your enthusiasm was adorable. she had absolutely no clue what you were talking about, but was happy you got to share your ideas with her. 

she cleared her throat. “i guess i’ll give you my thoughts after class one day?” 

you nod excitedly. “i would really love that.” 

abby collected her items and turned on her heel to leave the library. she felt accomplished, only to realize a few moments later,

fuck. 

she didn’t even ask for your name. 

that night abby started the novel. she was determined to finish before she saw you again on wednesday. homework was suddenly tossed onto the backburner. her childish crush took precedent. for the next day and a half she did nothing but read this novel, even going as far as making annotations and talking points for you. 

she woke up bright and early on wednesday. the sun was hanging lowly in the sky. she couldn’t go back to sleep even if she wanted to. she drug her body out of bed and pulled on a black tshirt and grey sweatpants for her early morning workout. she preferred to get her workout out of the way during the early morning hours to avoid the crowd of people in her apartment’s rec center and lower her chances of social interaction. 

her workout was a little more rushed than usual. she wanted to make sure she looked well put together when she approached you after class. she was meticulous with her shower routine, pairing the scent of her body wash with her lotions and deodorant. pine and amber with a hint of lavender. next was her hair that she braided and re-braided at least three times in front of her slightly fogged up bathroom mirror. she peeked at her phone and noticed it was way later than she thought. she ripped a black short sleeve button up and olive green corduroy pants off of their hanger and slipped on some shoes before she ran off to the bus stop.

she made it into the classroom right as the professor was reading off the first slide. the feeling of several pairs of eyes on her was unbearable. 

for the entire seventy five minutes of class she could only stare at you. you were feverishly typing on your laptop while also scribbling something down in your notebook. the clock seemed to tick slower than usual. 

“alright, that covers everything i wanted to address today. i’ll let y’all out a few minutes early. go enjoy the weather outside.” 

abby couldn’t pack up faster. she prayed you weren’t in any kind of rush. 

“hey!” 

abby spun around to see your face. thank god, you had approached her. this eliminated the possibility of her chickening out. 

“oh, hey!” this had thrown off abby’s entire script. “sorry i ran off yesterday. i didn’t catch your name?”

you chuckled at the realization. you hadn’t noticed either. after you properly introduced yourself, abby offered a “nice to officially meet you.”

you waste no time getting to your initial reason for approaching her. “did you start the book?” 

the sound of your voice had butterflies swarming about in her stomach. 

“yeah, i finished it actually.”

you slung your backpack over your shoulders. “which way are you going?” 

the two of you set off in the direction of the coffee shop on campus. abby went over her talking points and luckily you two shared a lot of the same ideas about the themes and writing style of the book. abby made a mental note to read more of your recommendations. 

the coffee shop was coming up on the horizon and abby had already completely derailed her walk to her next class. she had to wrap this up.

“did you maybe wanna study together sometime? you looked really into today’s lecture.” was that a weird thing to say? now it sounded like she was watching your every move.

she was. 

but, that wasn’t your business. 

“oh god, no. i hated this week’s reading. way too dense and the translation was clunky.” your head dropped in embarrassment. “i was actually playing sudoku.” 

god, you were the cutest thing. 

“dinner, then?” she ground her fingernails into the fabric of her backpack straps. “i just think it would be nice to have someone to talk about the homework with.” there was a beat of silence and immediately she felt the need to backtrack “it’s okay if not! i’m sure you’re busy and all.”

“dinner sounds fun! i can do tonight? maybe around seven?”

the two of you exchanged phone numbers and abby said a quick goodbye before rushing off in the opposite direction, praying she wasn’t late to her next class. 

you mentally high fived yourself. you had only made one friend during your time at college and that was your first year dorm roommate. she was great and all, but a senior with only one friend felt sort of pathetic. you were positive the two of you only ended up being friends because of your forced close proximity. you both loved each other to death, but you weren’t so sure you would have found each other otherwise. 

this time you made a friend all on your own. well, maybe you two weren’t quite friends yet, but you’d try your damndest to make your friendship status official. she was nice enough so far. 

and really pretty. 

like, really pretty. 

an hour or so later, abby sent a text with a link to a restaurant menu. you couldn’t help but open the message immediately. 

abby a.: is this good? 

you clicked on the link and your eyes grew wide. this was one of the places you would only eat at for special occasions. the cheapest entree was thirty dollars. there was no way you could afford that. you were a full time student living off of your need based scholarship and the meager wages you received from your work study job. if you looked you would probably see double digits in your checking account. 

you: this looks rlly nice but idk if i’ll be able to afford it 

you: i’m srry!!

before you could lock your phone, the grey bubble appeared again.

abby a.: don’t worry i invited you. i’ll grab the check. 

the idea of being indebted to her made you uneasy, but you couldn’t bring yourself to disagree with her. you didn’t want to seem high maintenance. 

your 8AM was your only class of the day, so in normal fashion you gallivanted around campus and sat in front of the library, people watching, until your shift started. the older woman who worked the same desk shift as you helped you on the daily crossword, forcing the time to pass faster. 

it was a little more than an hour before you and abby were supposed to meet up when your phone vibrated. 

abby a.: i’ll pick you up. send me your address.

you had fully intended to take the twenty minute bus ride over to the restaurant. you knew the bus routes like the back of your hand on account of you not owning a car. it wasn’t as bad as everyone made it out to be. 

abby pulled up at 7PM on the dot. once you received the “outside” text you grabbed your bag from it’s designated hook near the door. 

“where ya goin’?”

you looked back to see your best friend and roommate, liz. 

“dinner.”

“like a date?”

“nah. just some girl from my class.” your hand reached for the doorknob and pulled the door open. “i’ll see you!”

“have fun. make good choices!” she called out before you could shut the door behind you. 

you peered around the parking lot, trying to find her car. you pulled your phone from your bag and unlocked it, preparing to call abby to play hot and cold until you found her. then, you heard a voice call your name. 

abby was hanging out the sunroof of her car, waving at you. you approached her car and caught the brand sigil on the front grille. it was a BMW. you didn’t know much about cars, but you knew those were expensive. you opened the doors to see a custom leather interior and a high tech touch screen on the center console. it felt like you weren’t even allowed to sit down in this car. 

“hey, sorry it’s kind of messy.” 

there were maybe a dozen crumbs on the floor mats and a couple straw wrappers in the cup holder. 

“if this is messy for you, you’d hate to see my room.” you awkwardly tried to laugh off the tension you felt. “nice car.” 

abby moved the gear shift into drive and started to pull out of the parking lot. “yeah, it’s an early graduation present. i was hoping for something a little more practical. like a subaru or something.” she immediately bit her tongue. she probably sounded so stuck up right now. “i mean, this is perfectly fine! i just…what if i have some furniture to move, y’know?” 

smooth recovery.

“no, no i get it!” you, in fact, did not get it. you would kill to be able to drive yourself across town and not have to haul your groceries along with you on the bus. 

abby’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “you can take aux if you want.” she motioned to the wire hanging out of the charging port. 

this was one of the worst things you could ever hear. now you had to carefully curate a few songs to last the duration of the short drive. shuffling your liked songs would surely end in embarrassment and you couldn’t tell what music abby would be into. you haphazardly queued a couple songs and analyzed every change in abby’s face, trying to decipher whether she liked the songs or not. to your delight she began humming along to one of the songs. 

“didn’t expect you to be into this sort of music.”

abby shrugged. “i’m full of surprises, i guess.” 

you made small talk about your major and your class load for the semester. all of the typical stuff you go over with anyone you meet in a college town. then, you discussed plans for grad school.

“i think i’m gonna take a year or two off and travel for a while. see the world and all that.” you picked up on the way abby’s eyes sparkled when she talked about it. 

“what are you gonna do about money and stuff?” finally, you had an excuse to ask how rich she was.

“my dad’s a neurosurgeon. he rolled right through undergrad into medical school with no time off. he wants me to take some time and find myself. make sure i’m committed to whatever my next step is.” 

you wordlessly nodded. the puzzle pieces fell into place. now you were almost embarrassed about not being well off. what could you possibly have in common with some uppity rich girl?

once the two of you started talking over dinner, it seemed like you actually had a lot in common. you both held a passion for the same movies, had slight overlap with your music taste, and held similar political beliefs. you had judged her a little too fast. you let her go on about her coin collection and in exchange she let you beak into a tangent about your hobbies. before you knew it one of the servers came up to your table. 

“hey folks, i brought the check over for you. take your time.”

you were mortified when you saw it was thirty minutes after close. if your server hadn’t practically run off you would’ve offered an apology. 

you instinctively peeked at the check and saw three digits. your shock must’ve been obvious as abby snatched the receipt holder from you. 

“i told you, i’ve got it.” she put down a heavy metal card and you were once again reminded about the difference in your tax brackets. 

dinner had gone so well it became a weekly endeavor. every wednesday you met up with her so she could show you a couple different spots around town. every time she paid the bill before you could even say anything. whenever you mentioned wanting to read some newly released book that the library hadn’t ordered yet, she would shyly present it to you the next time you two saw each other. weekly dinner dates turned into coffee dates between classes, which turned into study dates at home. she learned your coffee order and work schedule so she could occasionally pop into the library while you were working and deliver you a treat. you became inseparable rather quickly. often walking hand in hand across campus after your seminar. 

liz caught you smiling at your phone and peered over your shoulder. 

“hey, hey! what happened to privacy?” you scolded. 

liz looked you up and down. “what’s going on between you two? always texting, always facetiming, always hanging out.”

“nothing! we’re just friends.” 

it was clear she didn’t believe you. “there’s no fucking way y’all are ‘just friends’.” 

“i can be just friends with a girl!” 

“mhm. sure, sure.” liz left you to study (read: spend your entire night texting back and forth with abby). 

that night when you laid in bed, you finally gave your relationship some thought. were you two “just friends”? you were used to burying your semi-romantic thoughts about your female friends. that had been your MO ever since you discovered you were gay. you tried not to think about abby in that way. you were so excited to make a new friend, you couldn’t bear potentially ruining things with those thoughts. 

you two were just close friends. that’s it.

that’s all it would ever be. 

abby a.: goodnight see you in the morning <3

unbeknownst to you, abby was also spiraling about your relationship. had the little heart been too much? she was trying so hard to be subtle. either you were completely uninterested or she wasn’t being obvious enough. what was she supposed to say? “i think i have a crush on you” was way too forward. what if you didn’t feel the same way? now she would look like an idiot and have to bear the next couple months showing up to the same class as you three times a week. 

even worse, you were the first girl abby had ever properly pursued. her breakup with owen forced her to finally contemplate if she ever actually loved him. well, of course she loved him, but was she ever in love with him? after a month she had decided it had never been the latter. that had been nearly a year ago and in that time she had never actually made an effort to seek a relationship with anyone romantically. she made out with girls at parties, hooked up with one girl months ago, but this was different. she wanted your dinner dates to be real dates. to sleep with you in her arms. post you on her story with a caption that said ‘my girlfriend is so beautiful’. 

how the fuck was she going to make this work?

she laid awake drafting different text messages and formulating different scenarios where it would be appropriate for her to confess to you. 

that weekend abby invited you over for a sleepover. nothing too crazy. just wine, takeout, and a movie. the hour it took for you to respond was possibly the worst hour of her life.

you: omg sounds fun!! i’ll finish up my work at 8?

abby breathed a sigh of relief. she spent the next several hours stress cleaning. her entire house was pristine by the time she was meant to pick you up. 

confessing to you over text almost felt disrespectful. the wine would compensate for her intense fear of rejection. if you didn’t reciprocate, she’d just politely call you an uber and that would be that. the prospect of ignoring her feelings for you until the end of the semester trumped her fear of having to be in the same classroom with a girl who rejected her. 

she just couldn’t take it anymore. 

when she pulled into the driveway of your apartment she saw that you were already waiting outside, a small duffel bag in hand. 

you happily trotted over to her car and hopped in. the seat was perfectly adjusted for you as always. you took over aux without abby prompting you to. 

you always got the passenger princess treatment. 

abby listened to you tell her every intricate detail of your day. the dog you got to pet on campus, how the coffee shop messed up your order and you were too scared to tell them, and the crossword you weren’t able to finish because your usual coworker wasn’t on shift. 

while she was happy to listen to you, all she could think about was the fact that this may be the last time she got to hear your daily musings. 

“you okay, babe?” 

the hairs on the back of her neck always stood up when she heard you call her that. 

“i’m fine. just thinking about this assignment i forgot to finish.”

“i can help you when we get home. as long as it’s not your orgo chem class. you’re on your own with that.”

no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, you could feel the tension in the air. something was off, but you couldn’t tell what. abby was speaking less and just seemed out of it in general. every time you asked if she was okay it was always the same 

“i’m okay. don’t worry.”

you brush it off and carry on with the night as if all was normal. you ordered chinese food from your favorite hole in the wall restaurant and plopped down on her couch. it took you thirty minutes to decide on a movie, the two of you debating the pros and cons of every option. it didn’t take long for the food to be delivered and after abby gave you permission to eat on the couch you dug into your food.

“is this your first meal of the day?” abby knew you were terrible at taking care of yourself. not that she was much better.

“shut up.” you uttered through the food in your mouth. 

a few minutes into the movie, abby offers you a blanket which you eagerly take. you rest your legs over her lap and lay back against one of the throw pillows. abby almost felt wrong touching you. she had plans to irrevocably change your relationship before the night was over. 

would you be able to stay friends with her after?

“do you want wine? i figured rosé would be a safe choice.” 

you affirmatively hummed, prompting abby to rush off into her dark kitchen. she just needed a few moments to breathe. 

“can i ask a stupid question?” you called from the living room. 

abby felt the need to dry heave. “maybe.” was all she could offer as a response.

there was a few moments of uncertain silence before you spoke again. “liz is convinced we’re like…dating, or something? is there something going on between us?” 

you were always so forward. it was a trait of yours that abby admired. except this time. 

like the day you first spoke after class, you had completely derailed her scripts and scenarios.

“i…don’t know?” the question had her hands shaking so bad she couldn’t pull the cork out of the wine bottle. 

you hummed once more. “i don’t know either.”

the movie filled the uneasy silence between the two of you. abby was panicking and you surprisingly weren’t. 

“i think i like you.” you were the first to break the silence. “wait, that sounded really childish. i just…you know what i mean.” 

finally, abby could exhale. 

“i’m sorry. did i make things weird?” 

abby rushed back into the living room and saw you cocooned in her blanket, partially shielding your face from her.

“holy fuck. no, no!” she tripped over her words, trying to skip to whatever part of the script she intended to use for this exact moment. finally, she cleared her throat. “that’s kind of why i approached you the first time. i mean, i’m glad we became friends!” once again, she felt the need to backtrack. “when i first saw you in class i thought you were really pretty. i’ve been trying to work up the nerve to say this from the first time we met.” 

you finally met her gaze. abby was shocked to hear you giggle. “that’s sweet.” you reached out for her, beckoning her to come sit next to you. “i wish i had known. you’re always acting so mysterious about your feelings.” you teased. 

you sat up and loosely wrapped your arms around her shoulders. “so…was your plan to corner me here and bombard me with your confession?”

“okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that.” how had you read her intentions so accurately?

“i don’t hear any denial.” abby refused to answer. she had suffered enough tonight. “enlighten me, what was your plan if i said i liked you back?” 

abby shrugged. she really hadn’t expected to get this far. she spent more time planning for a rejection than reciprocity. 

you leaned into her. “well, i think you should kiss me.” 

abby had been dreaming of this moment. quite literally. whenever she had vaguely scandalous dreams it was always about you. she’d wanted this for so long and here she was awkwardly fumbling as she pressed her lips against yours. 

you delicately brushed a few fly away hairs behind her ear and leaned into the kiss. you could feel the hesitance in abby’s body language and knew you’d have to be the captain of the ship for the time being. you closed the space between the two of you, now chest to chest. 

“you don’t have to be nervous.” you whispered in her ear while you moved to straddle her lap. 

abby placed her hands firmly at your hips, finally working up the courage to just touch you. the movie was long forgotten when she lost herself in your kiss. her hand made it halfway up your shirt before she broke the kiss. 

“is that okay?” 

you giggled against her lips. “yeah, have at it.” 

the joking tone eased her mind and emboldened her. her hand found its way fully under the fabric of your shirt, cupping your left breast. her thumb brushed against your nipple, making you sharply inhale. you grinded down against her crotch and abby whimpered against your lips. 

you couldn’t tell how much time had passed. the both of you were feeling sensitive and hot all over. you were desperate to draw those sweet mewls out of her. 

“okay, fuck this movie.” all at once you pulled away from her. abby looked like she could’ve cried at your sudden absence. “do you wanna…like…”

“yeah,” she took a moment to catch her breath. “yeah. the bedroom is this way.” she took your hand and led you past the kitchen to her bedroom that was bathed in moonlight from the wall length windows. she rushed to close the curtains before she pulled her shirt off, revealing her black sports bra. you took her hand and collapsed against her bed, tugging her down with you. 

your fingers reached for the string of her sweatpants, working them down her thighs and tossing them to the side. 

“have you done this before?” you whispered in between kisses to her neck and collarbones. 

“sort of. a while ago.” 

“well i’m happy to give you a refresher course.” you flipped abby onto her back so you could be on top. “just relax.” you hooked your fingers into the waistband of her boxers and pulled her thighs apart. 

the sex lasted for an absurdly long time. for a beginner, abby was surprisingly adept. she was a quick learner. by the end of it, neither of you had the energy to go back to the movie. you slept soundly in her arms, not even bothering to redress. 

the next morning you were harshly pulled from your sleep by an alarm. it was saturday. there was no way it was your phone. 

abby shot straight up in bed and hastily pulled her phone off of the nightstand. 

“fuck. i’m sorry. i forgot i have rugby practice.” she leapt out of bed and started digging through her closet for fresh workout clothes. “for the record, i had plans to make you breakfast and everything. the whole nine yards.”

you stretched out in her bed, missing her warmth. “oh, i’m sure.”

[1920sladydectective]

Christmas Tree Smut - NSFW

I wrote this because my wife bought me all of the Rocklove jewellery Ambessa and Mel collection as a surprise for finishing my thesis and then we put up the Christmas tree. So thank her. :D

Not proof read, some pet names and choking but it’s a short drabble so not much.

Ambessa was tall. You were fully aware of this, it had its multitude of uses and attractions. This, though, you had yet to see this year.

There she stood, bundled in furs with a stern eye, surveying the tree.

“I think it’s fine,” You muttered to her left, tipsy smirk on your face.

“Since when has fine been acceptable, Dear? Do you love it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say love,”

“Then it is wrong,” She marched off down the sea of green, analysing as though picking new recruits.

You had been looking for two hours, and she had bought you five glasses of spiked mulled wine. Still she would not pick one. You just wanted to decorate a tree, have too much stollen and then kiss underneath the mistletoe. Instead, she was striking the fear of God into the farm attendant as she looked for her “Perfect” Tree.

From the uncharacteristically loud yell of joy, you hoped she’d found it. You were determined to love it even if it was half dead, just so you could leave. It was, in all fairness to Ambessa, astounding. Ten foot tall, plush and full, it loomed just as she’d wished.

“Will it fit?”

She looked at you like you were an idiot. Of course. Her castle ceilings were insanely high, that’s why you’d come to this farm in the first place.

The farmhand chopped it down, with constant commentary and criticism from Ambessa until you whacked her with your handbag and growled. Poor boy must have been a teenager, and Ambessa was calling him a spineless fool.

Then, in a flash, the magic happened. She picked it up, as though it wasn’t over three feet taller than her, and began to wander off to the soldiers waiting to transport it. You tensed, blindly handing the boy far too much money for the tree as you trailed behind her glamorous, toned form.

Her eyes sparkled as she placed it down, a wry grin on her face, “Something intriguing darling?”

“Don’t tease,” You sighed, gazing happily at her.

The journey back was simple, your wine addled mind floaty and dozing against her shoulder until she kissed you tenderly to wake you.

Once the great, hulking thing was situated, Ambessa began putting the lights on. You were not allowed on the wooden ladder, as if a glass bauble prone to dropping. That was fine with you, you’d just stare at her arse the whole time.

Finally, blissfully, you could decorate the fucking thing. Boxes and boxes of glass ornaments from your marriage and travels were brought into the room by attendants, a large wooden table used to spread them out as you contemplated how you wished to decorate this year.

Humming carols to yourself, you danced around Ambessa placing baubles and standing back to survey. She was only to place them where you said further up, your tone demanding and clear. It made her smirk, your perfectionism. Each year she grew to love it more.

Swiftly, she hugged you from behind and began to nibble your neck as you placed a pair of robins on a lower branch.

“Y-“ A huff, “You’re distracting me,”

“You’re distracting me, Little one,” She purred, nuzzling against your nape, “So commanding, so artistic, how am I supposed to resist such seduction?”

You melted slightly against her, taking in the warm glow of the lights as you tilted your head, offering more of your neck.

Ambessa left large, sharp marks all down your throat and collarbone, relishing in branding you as she wrapped her arm around you and began to tease your nipple.

Your knees buckled, ripping an amused moan from your lips, “You do this every year, you never let me finish the fucking thing,”

She pinches your nipple through your dress, hard enough it hurts, “But I let you finish don’t I? And isn’t that so kind of me? Aren’t you so thankful?”

“Yes,” You slur slightly, going limp in her hold as she tugs whimpers and sighs from you. This was how she liked it, the tree would be half done and she would fuck your under it’s great branches and then allow you to finish it naked with your legs trembling.

This year it seemed she had grown especially impatient, and started the process only a third of the way through. You were powerless to resist though, namely because you didn’t want to.

She lay you on the floor, fluffy blankets and pillows preemptively placed, as her wicked tongue trailed down your body, hands preoccupied with abusing your tits until your eyes rolled. Once she finally touched your molten core, you were already in the blind throes of pleasure, her name echoing for all to hear. She allowed you your wantonness in these moments, body shaking as your orgasm ripped through you.

The sparkling of the tree made your vision blur, pleasure merging with whimsy as you smiled dumbly up through the branches.

“Pretty girl,” Ambessa groaned against you, “Perfect slut,”

She stripped herself of all clothes, spreading your legs wider as she positioned herself between them, brushing her cunt against yours. Rutting against you, she wiped your mind of anything other than your clits rubbing against each other, tongue hanging out as you spluttered and leaked.

Panting, her eyes hazy, she squeezed your neck lightly as you came, squirting all over yourself at the overstimulation. Her orgasm was loud and shameless, wrecking you on her search for pleasure as she lent down and bit your nipple between her teeth.

“I love Christmas,” You giggled nonsensically, smiling at the mistletoe bauble directly above your head.

“As do I, my darling,” She huffed, curling you both into a blanket as you basked in each other.

[spectrechosts]

Bloodsuckers - Chapter 2

Full Series

Katie stirs from another sleep under the eternally blackened sky.

"Morning, starshine." One of the vampires says, and she grumbles and slides her chair back into the kitchen compartment for coffee.

"She's grumpy. Maybe we shouldn't give her her present?"

"And after we brought a human all the way here to be her friend…"

Her adrenaline spikes, and she scrambles back to her dashboard.

"That woke her up."

She closes the cockpit and puts it under lockdown protocol, turns on all the interior lights and draws her sidearm. A thralled human is so much more dangerous to her right now than the vampires. It could already be in here, could have planted something while she slept-

"She's still out here, hunter." She hears one of the vampires say, filtered through the exterior mics. She quickly checks under the dashboard- clear- and puts her back to it, leveling her pistol at the rest of her cabin before glancing outside.

There is a human outside with them. She types out a command with one hand, diverting as little focus to it as she can while she inspects her surroundings. After a few moments her computer chimes with results- nothing set off the motion sensors while she slept. She's safe in her home. She mutes the speakers and cuts the lights, retreating back into her blanket until her heart stops racing.

"Get the fuck away from me." She says, clicking the speakers back on. "I'm- I'm armed."

"Aww, bad girl." One of the vampires says. "You'd shoot our darling pet?"

"A sweet little thing like her?"

"Fuck off, you bloodsucking cunts." Katie hisses.

"Fine, fine."

When she looks out again, she can see three of them retreating into the dark.

Three of them.

"Hey! Hey!" She shouts. "Don't leave your thrall here! HEY!"

She pounds on her windshield impotently, but it's no use. They're gone, and now she's stuck with… it.

It shuffles anxiously, left without the guiding leash of it's masters. Katie squints into the dark and attempts a visual diagnosis.

The thrall seems well fed, it's clothes are well-fitting and undamaged. It's too dark to get a good read on it's skin, if it has the anemic pallor typical of it's kind. It could be a recent addition, not beyond saving yet. Katie fights against her better judgement and opens the cockpit just a crack, to speak with it without broadcasting their conversation over speakers.

"Hey." She half-whispers. "What's your name?"

The thrall looks nervously up at her and inches closer to the mech to speak.

"I'm Sammy. S-Samantha." It says. "Are you going to shoot me?"

Maybe.

"No. Listen-" Says Katie. "How long have they had you?"

"Oh, long time." Says the thrall. "They found me when the evac was just starting."

"What?" Katie asks. That's- That's impossible. The evacuation was over a year ago. Millions of workers, shipped off planet before the vampires could get them. Everyone unaccounted for had been presumed dead since the first month. An entire farming colony, completely lost. There's no way a thrall could last that long.

"Yeah!" It says. "We were all supposed to get new assignments, and I thought, well what if I just didn't go? And I'm still here."

"You're… still here?"

"I'm still here!" It practically squeals with excitement. "Listen- Have you ever had strawberries?"

"…No?" Katie replies, dumbfounded. She's… aware of strawberries. She's had strawberry flavor. "But-"

"I hadn't either." It continues, clambering up to sit closer to the open cockpit. "I used to pick them! There's a whole sector, strawberries for miles and miles. The planting is automated, but the harvesting is too variable, too delicate."

What does any of this have to do with-

"Thousands of us, that's all we did, all day. You pick the strawberries and you sort the ugly ones from the nice ones and the ugly ones get recycled for seeds and the nice ones go right into cryo; get shipped all the way to the core worlds."

That all sounds about right to Katie. That's why the hunters are here, to secure the farms so they can get producing again. The place is worth billions of credits. "Okay, so-"

"But you couldn't eat any of them. We were monitored every single moment, offworld security watching the footage to report any theft, yeah? Some people did it, got shipped right off to prison worlds." The thrall pauses, swallows. "So the evac orders go out and I thought, I could go do that on another colony, or I could stay and try my chances with the vampires."

"And?"

"And the vampires found me right away. They can smell you."

"What did they do to you?"

"Drank my blood." It says. "But then, then there's only so much blood they can healthily take, right? And they weren't really sure how things were going to shake out that early, so they just… let me go."

"They let you go and you still didn't evacuate?!"

"No, listen- So they let me go, and the evacuation is still going in other sectors, I could probably get to a ship, but… it doesn't hurt that bad, when they bite."

"What?!"

"Listennnn." It says. Katie can't believe this, why would anyone who had been caught stay to get caught again? Could they have thralled it that fast?

"So they let me go, and mostly everyone's evacuated, and I don't really know what to do. So I go pick strawberries."

"…What."

"Oh my god just listen! This is the good part, okay? So I go pick strawberries, but everyone's evacuated, and the vampires have control of the sector and are probably going to take the whole colony. So I just… eat one. And it's so good." She says, practically shuddering with delight at the memory. "It's so juicy, and sweet, and soft, with just a little crunch from the seeds while you chew. And it's just, a perfect bite. You eat the whole berry in one bite and toss the leafy bit in the dirt. And then you can eat another, and another, and another. I just sat there eating strawberries, I didn't even sort out the ugly ones. And-"

"You let yourself be thralled by vampires because you wanted to eat some strawberries?"

"Hey, you were thinking about it because you wanted to get laid." Says Sammy.

"Like hell I was!" Katie lies.

"And anyway-" Sammy continues. "It's not just strawberries. Corn, potatoes, peppers- If you can think of something, it's probably in the crop rotation for some sector. And the animals! They've practically taken over their sectors, we shut down all the incubators and we're still overrun with the things! Chickens and cows and sheep-"

"Sheep?"

"Sheeeeep." She says almost reverently. "Have you ever seen one?"

"…Pictures." Katie admits. "Are… Are they as soft as they look?"

"Softer." Sammy says. "And it's all ours. The whole colony."

"The whole colony…" Katie shakes her head. "The whole colony is overrun with vampires!"

"Oh, who cares?"

"Who cares?!?" Katie shrieks, aghast. "They've enslaved you, made you their thrall!"

"Pssh. They're not as scary as you think they are, hunter."

"They drink blood!"

"Yeah, and it hurts, sure." Sammy says. "But the way they look at you! And they get so cuddly after, when they feel safe. Not to mention- have you ever sat on a vampire's face?"

"OBVIOUSLY NOT???"

"They don't need to breathe." Sammy says, a wild glint in her eye. "Trust me, the colony's the best it's ever been."

"I- You're insane. They're using you and you don't even see it!" Katie screeches. "All you are to them is food!"

Sammy stares blankly at her for a moment, and then snorts; and then laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

"You're funny." She says. "I'll bring you some strawberries, okay?"

[cozzzynook]

Ultra Magnus seems to be just a little off all shift. When Rodimus and Megatron try to ask him about it, he completely blows over it, insisting he's fine even though he sounds strained and feels warm just standing next to. Rodimus takes it in stride, recognizing Magnus was in some kind of mood and clearly didn't want to be pushed, but Megatron took it more personally. Ever since the two hooked up one night, Minimus seemed to be making himself smaller around Megatron. He wasn't exactly ignoring him, but he just seemed so reserved compared to the mech who was working so hard at coming out of his shell.

Megatron tried to talk about it with Minimus, but the conversations died out when Minimus would start to look stressed. Megatron never knew what he was saying to push Minimus away, but clearly he was doing something wrong. When one day he came to the deck and saw Ultra Magnus with Rodimus instead of Minimus, he felt even worse, like he truly ruined something with Minimus. The minibot hadn't shown his true self in so many cycles, seemingly reverting back to wearing the Magnus armor full time, which made something in Megatron's spark hurt deeply.

The shift was quiet, or about as quiet as any activity with Rodimus could be, and felt tense. Magnus was fidgety and his venting sounded terribly harsh, and Megatron couldn't push him anymore without making things worse. It was a horribly uncomfortable several hours, when out of nowhere, Ultra Magnus made a choked noise. He immediately excused himself from duty and sped off down the hall, surprising everyone there to see him go. Magnus never used his shift breaks, what was so bad it made him leave his post?

Megatron had to know. He left Rodimus in charge despite the co-captain demanding to go with him, but someone had to stay on deck while the other captain and second in command were occupied. Megatron took off after Magnus, noticing with worry that the commander really had left fast. He had already lost sight of Magnus and was hitting dead ends while he tore through the halls like a mad mech. He was running towards the med bay in his search and finally saw Ultra Magnus. He tried to grab the commander, and nearly jumped when his arm clattered onto the ground when Megatron held it. This was going to make it even harder if Minimus had left the armor, there had to be something awful happening for him to just leave the suit standing around like scrap metal.

Megatron collected his thoughts, Minimus had to be nearby. He was snapped back to reality when he heard a quiet cry from a supply closet just further down the hallway. Megatron ripped the door open, disregarding the damages. He could hardly take a step into the cramped room, but he didn't need to get any closer. He looked down, and saw the mech he was looking for.

Minimus was laid on the floor, looking up at Megatron with real fear in his optics. It made Megatron's spark ache, but he couldn't focus on the hurt at that moment when there was something more important. It was hard to see at first in the dark room, but it was now clear Minimus was cradling a tiny sparkling in his arms. The little thing was held to his pouches, but it was fussing about so badly. It made a static laced cry, just like he heard earlier, and it was already enough to make Megatron's sire protocols come alive. He got to his knees to be closer to Minimus' level and looked closer at the sparkling. It was a deep green with shining silver accents, and unmistakably, the bitty had helm panels just like Megatron did under his helmet.

"I'm so sorry," Minimus said quickly, holding his little one closer as he tried to sit up. He winced at the motion, making Megatron reach out to hold the minibot down gently. "I-I didn't know how to tell you, I am so sorry captain."

Megatron felt so lost, his world had just changed in seconds. He needed more answers than Minimus was giving. "Tell me what Minimus? Because it seems there's many things I should know about here that I don't."

It took some time and some tears for Minimus to get the whole truth out. The two had been trying to court each other for some time before their spontaneous hook up when spirits were high after a harsh battle deep in space. The day after they interfaced is when things started going south. Minimus felt ashamed, not because of anything Megatron did, but for throwing himself at the big mech like overeager shareware. Their courting was going slow, and Minimus was happy with taking his time to get closer to Megatron until his array got the better of him. He shied away from Megatron after that, not wanting to see what he was sure to be disappointment in his optics when he looked at Minimus. He feared he rushed and spoiled what they were building together, so it seemed the only option for him was to build back more distance. Then later on during his annual medical exam he found out he was sparked.

He knew it was Megatron's from their night together, and he was completely humiliated. Not only did he wreck the relationship he had been chasing, but now he was carrying for a mech who probably didn't want him anymore after making such a fool of himself. The responsible thing would have been to snuff the spark out, but Minimus couldn't bring himself to do it. He felt selfish and terrible, but he just couldn't get rid of his sparkling. He could only pray to primus that the bitty took after him and he could avoid the conversation of who the sire was, but that was hardly a plan. Minimus was fighting with himself every day, and it was only worsened when Megatron would try to ask him why he seemed so distracted. He should have told him about the sparkling, but he could never get the nerve to do it. He couldn't tell Megatron and make him stay out of pity, and his poor spark couldn't handle the idea of Megatron making him get rid of the growing spark that circled his own.

Before he knew it, Minimus' frame was showing when the sparkling dropped, and he knew everything would come out when someone asked him about it. That's when Ultra Magnus had become his regular frame again, making Minimus feel even worse about himself. He resented the armor, he was so ashamed, and he was mad at himself for getting into the mess in the first place, but he was never upset with his bitty, the sweet thing was innocent in Minimus' horrible web of lies.

All of that led to the current moment, where Minimus didn't make it to the medbay and had to deliver his sparkling in a closet to hide from anyone. Megatron felt so many mixed emotions, he was so wildly frustrated and upset Minimus hid everything the way he did. It made Megatron feel guilty that he made Minimus feel pressured enough to hide it in the first place, when he should have communicated clearly after that night. The two were definitely going to need to schedule an appointment with Rung, but that was a far off plan in Megatron's processor when his offspring was crying right in front of him. He reached for the sparkling, brushing one of the tall panels on the bitty's helm. They looked at their sire with big red eyes and felt their spark call to Megatron. He took the little one from Minimus and held them like they were the most precious thing in the galaxy. Minimus was backed up against the wall, watching the two interact. His field was a difficult read, a sour mix of sadness, love, joy, and worry. He already loved his creation with his whole spark, he was just so sorry he was already doing so wrong by them.

Megatron shifted how he held his sparkling and reached for Minimus. He held the minibot's servo and met his eyes, not looking disgusted with him or disappointed like Minimus feared. "I promise you Minimus, no matter if you still want me anymore as a partner, I will always be here for you and our treasure."

It was the first smile Megatron had drawn from Minimus in so long, it made him feel light again. Minimus shifted to lean on Megatron for support, watching their sparkling finally settle down and relax once they had their sire. "If you could ever forgive me for my deception, than of course I want you Megatron."

The tension that had been so thick between the two of them since the ordeal started vanished so quickly. Minimus took back his dear little spark, allowing Megatron to pick the two of them up much easier. The first course of action was actually going to the medbay. Minimus may have had an easy delivery but Megatron refused to let him go on without an exam, not even mentioning their little one needed to be looked over. At the medbay while the sparkling was being cared for, the two could talk further about their real feelings and plans for the future, for their relationship and for their family. At least conjunxing could go on smoothly when the time was right, Minimus had already given Megatron the greatest gift he could have asked for without even knowing.

Whoever you are, thank you for sharing this wonderful story & fic!

Oh my gosh i love it!!!

[liampaynemysteriousdeath]

Media saying: "....Witnesses describe his behaviour as increasingly erratic, including outbursts of frustration and references to his One Direction past."

You think that Liam's frustration included also the thing that he changed hotel cause fans was 24/7 outside his previous hotel, and then the same thing happened to Casasur Hotel?

good question.

Its hard to believe what the media says, and it's also hard to even believe the pictures too. Allegedly they have been tampered with too...

But if you look at these pics. It seems to be the same guy and liam looks pissed.

Idk if the pic of liam standing liam by elevator was taken before or after they dragged him. Supposedly it was multiple times he was taken up and down the elevator. Allegedly, he passed out in the elevator according to some sources.

I had always mentioned on this blog that it seemed like there were no fan pics taken outside the casasur hotel. Only the Hyatt hotel.

Im not saying that one girl who went on argentina news was a liar, I think her name was dayana or Daniella(?). I believe the news station was called general noticias iirc.

And she said he was going to come back down after he was gonna eat something. But it's strange she didn't get a video of him at all? Or even a pic of him walking back inside hotel. It was full glass panels after all. (Also does that mean roger was on his way with food? Allegedly he had brought liam cookies and mcdonalds the previous day?) Because liam didn't have access to his own money. apparently toger was controlling liams money. People think liam was given a sedative through the cookies. Also fans say liam was a big fan of cookies in general. So that was probably the best idea they thought of to drug him...

And now that we see these new leaked pics, I didn't see anyone standing in front of the front of hotel...? No fans...

Cause I remember the gonzalo article talking about how Liam stays at the Hyatt usually, but too many fans found him there. So apparently he switched to polo place. Gonzalo said he was going to join them on that trip(since he owns polo place), but had business in America to do... he also claimed liam was on the phone with him that day and seemed fine. He claimed liam had new phone or phone number iirc according to the article,

To my knowledge, they were all staying at hyatthotel, (roger, lulu, kate, liam). There's video of them getting in van from hyatt to go to nialls concert.

Then in Kate's last video where she leaves, they are at gonzalos polo house villa. Then liam and roger go to casasur. I doubt roger ever had a room booked there. Supposedly Roger only visited hotel 3 times to pay off liams hotel tab. Which also makes me wonder why did Roger bring him food from mcdonalds when he could have ordered something from restaurant. And then roger could have come over and paid for it. Also I had a theory that roger was controlling liam acting as a sover coach, which possibly could've pissed liam off making him more erratic, plus if liam was hungry, hunger puts people km bad mood. Also why did Roger leave his friend alone in a sketchy hotel? Why didn't he invite liam to his house?

Liam didn't seem to have his suitcase, which seems likely considering he kept rotating similar outfits and of course the rumor that Kate left with his credit cards and only had 18 dollars to his name. (See eternal liams twitter for her theory on liam was victim of human trafficking).

And then idk ifyou saw my postfrom other day talking about how lulu was saying do you have the drug an on phone with brayan allegedly. Also idk if you saw my post linking brayan to lula. They've been friends for at least a year. So after the polo place visit, they go to casasur where brayan delivers drugs.

Also the brayan pic seems imo to have been taken back in May when liam went to argentina for louis concert. Liam had a fullerface back then.

Anyways, back to your question...

Did those dudes grab him off the couch and left his laptop there? Then go on it themselves to look through his laptop? There's also the broken tv pic where you can see what looks like a reflection of laptop on the bed. Alongside a possible black cap...but even then people say it could've been a different room staged.

Liam could've been aggravated by getting harassed by the staff obviously them grabbing him would've pissed off anyone and obviously someone would act erratically. But the media tries to spin it like he was crazy and on drugs, etc. Which he could've technically had some untraceable drugs in his system for all we know. Maybe a sedative perhaps. But he was trying to renew his visa which meant he needed to be clean.

I know with almost all substances there is called a half-life and it only shows up in the body for a certain amount of time before it is excreted though the body, whether urine,sweat, etc. Certain substances don't even show up on drugtests. There is a rumor that Christian a, who bought rogers company on the day liam performed at his birthday party (may 2022or may 2923 idr exactly), had hallucinogenic that couldn't be tracked on drug tests. Christian was into mushrooms and hallucinogenics and made a company.

And on liams YT channel, he attended Christians lunch thing. And later liam invested in one of Christians companies and also did an art thing with crypto.

Well also we have to remember that he also stayed at gonzalo's polo place too. No one has made a hard timeline of liams movements throughout his staying argentina. On top of that, that roger has been deleting stuff from liams social media. Tiktok specifically. Roger specifically posted liams last video at polo place to throw people off to show that liam was "fine". While roger did his dirty work behind scenes. It seems that a lot of footage for social media was filmed all at once and released in increments to throw people off his trail.

Also how brayan said that Liam was supposedly paranoid. (If it's true, maybe he was paranoid was gonna kill him.) But of course, people say he was paranoid because of the drugs.

The psychiatrist visit for liam happened during the trip bevause you need a psych eval in order to get visa approved.

And idk if you saw the postsfrom, the other day where i posted screenshots from eternal liam on twitter. She mentioned that mayas family had ties to abc news. Supposedly the first toxicology report came from American abc news. And why did it come out so fast after he had just passed away? It usually takes up to 6 weeks to have results. So it seemed the first toxicology report was from America and falsified on purpose,

Also how would an America source have more Info than the locals? Doesn't make sense.

Sorry I totally went on a random rant again haha. Hopefully I answered your question lol.

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

illicit affairs | thirty

*two months later*

My time with the tour ended before it even began. Noah got really sick, tried to push through it but it was no use. He was on the brink of permanently damaging his vocal cords so the band decided collectively to cancel the rest of the tour, rescheduling the dates for a later time.


When we got back from the tour, Noah took a turn and he wasn’t himself. He became so secluded. He went as far as turning one of our guest rooms into an office and locked himself in there. He wouldn’t even come to bed to sleep anymore, and when he wanted to eat he either ordered himself something or went out to get food. I tried everything to help but he kept brushing me off… I eventually just gave up.

A couple weeks ago I ended up going back to my job at the hospital on the days Liam wasn’t home. I started taking double shifts and working 16 hours a day to just get away from Noah. I started to get this unnerving wave of deja vu from when I was married to Tyler. My own home had became my personal hell again.

“Where are you going?”

I came home from a shift to see two suitcases on our bed with Noah’s clothes in it. I stood there bewildered since I hadn’t seen him in our room in weeks. He wouldn’t even look at me, he just kept throwing clothes into his suitcase with no organization. He was frantic, had his hood up so I couldn’t even see his face.

“Noah?!”

He finally stopped, a long breath left him as he looked at me for the first time in forever. My heart felt like it was going to shatter. His eyes were so dark and he had even darker circles under his eyes. His stare that once felt like sunshine was now stone cold. I wanted to feel sorry for him but how do you feel sorry for someone who pushes you away.

“I need to leave.” Hearing his voice again caused my stomach to flip, “being here isn’t helping my headspace.”

“You did this to yourself though.“

He paused, zipping up his suitcase with such force, “I just need to start working on our new music.”

“You were supposed to do that here, with me.”

“It was a mistake to think I could do things up here.” He replies, not taking his eyes off his hands he stuffed into his hoodie pocket. I was so starved for his touch that all I wanted to do was hold him and tell him he was going to be okay, but I knew it was no use.

I could feel my bottom lip starting to shake as my voice broke, “do you even want to live here anymore?”

“I don’t…know.” His own voice began to crack too, almost as if being here was tearing him apart, “I just need go back to LA for a bit and figure things out.”

“Fine.”

He sarcastically huffed, looking back over at me, “that’s all you can say?”

“Noah since we came back from tour I’ve fucking hated being in this house.” My voice going from breaking to being coated with rage. I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, burning a hole through his chest. “So you being gone will actually give me some breathing room.”

“I don’t want us to be over.”

“We can talk about that when you get back.” I replied through pursed lips. “Maybe I need to figure out what I want because it’s certainly not this.”

“I understand.”

Silence hung in the air like an unwanted ghost haunting the both of us. Was he going to change? Maybe. What worried me was knowing this could be the start of a vicious cycle. If he came back from LA happy, how long did I have until he turned on me again?

“Can I ask you one thing?”

His face softened a little as he gazed over at me, “anything.”

“Why did you make such an effort to be here with me if you were just going to run back to LA when things got hard?” He opened his mouth to speak but I wasn’t done, “could you not handle the fact that I was with someone else?”

“You said it yourself that you didn’t love Matt.”

“I could’ve grown to love him.“ I admitted, “but I loved you more.”

“I sometimes wonder if you even love me. The way you look at him makes me feel otherwise.”

“Don’t turn this on me because you don’t want to answer my question.” I spat back, “have fun in LA.”

“Ellie …”

I walked away before he could see the tears forming in my eyes. It was strange, the feeling that washed over me. I felt like I was watching a stranger in an airport bar. My head hit the back of the couch as the tears I tried to fight escaped the corners of my eyes. I heard movements upstairs followed by his footsteps coming down the stairs. I was half expecting him to just walk away but he actually came and found me as another beat of silence hung in the air.

“I’ll call you when I land.”

I knew it was an empty promise so I just nodded my head slightly. I think he only said it to soften the blow of what was eventually coming. His body shifted away from me as he walked towards the front door. The second that door shut I knew I’d be faced with the reality that this was the last time we’d be under the same roof. It was equal parts surreal and alleviating.

Come one, come all, it's happening again

The empathetic hunger descends

We'll tell no one, expect all of our friends

I can't pretend like I understand…How did it end?

[gatheryepens]

Godzilla-read's Easy & Simple 2023 Reading Challenge

💐 March- A book a parental figure enjoys. If you don't have a parental figure, choose a friend.

3.5 ⭐️ - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Okay so I know this is two months later but I was in big book slump, so I’m slowly but surely catching up on the reading prompts 😭. None of my parents are big readers so I read a book that two of my friends really enjoy. I was really surprised that I actually enjoyed this book I don’t read fantasy often but I would say this book had a good magical element (I’m still waiting to read a fantasy book that blows me away and makes me adore the genre). I kept going back and forth on a rating for the book because there were some really good elements and some elements I didn’t enjoy as much. I think what bumped it to a 3 star book for me was the plot it was very good and kept me interested, what kept it from not being 4 stars were the characters. Don’t get me wrong not all of them were bad but the main character Feyre irked and frustrated me a lot and the two love interests did some questionable stuff that made me so angry. Will I continue the series? Probably not, for two reasons:

1. I’m fine with the ending thus far. After reading the book, I didn’t automatically think oh I need to read the next book and I don’t think that is a bad thing I just didn’t feel that connected.

2. I’m inherently lazy and committing to four more books is something I couldn’t do.

If anyone has any good fantasy recommendations I would love to hear them :)

[nabaath-areng]

Sometimes I think to myself "actually maybe I'm exaggerating the terror I felt from being stalked", but then I remember that the person in question followed me and waited for me outside my school every day, tracked me down on every website I'd spent even the slightest time on, left physical letters in my mailbox, sent creepy as hell novel length messages on a near daily basis on FB. And then when I was living abroad and I answered the phone I told the caller to text me cause I couldn't hear, after which I had to read "I was saying that you would probably be VERY scared if you knew who's calling... hehe" with my own damn fucking eyes...

And then I'm like yknow what nevermind!!!! the fact that I'm still terrified of being perceived and seen in public not just IRL but also FFXIV might be understandable actually!!!

[johndonneswife]

what they don’t tell you about instagram is that you’ll have 50 DMs to reply to, and after weeks of anxiously avoiding them you finally look and read and reply to everyone - and then people just start replying to you. AGAIN. immediately, even. and then you have 50 unread DMs again. so you anxiously avoid looking at them for weeks/months and then you finally bite the bullet and reply to people again…and they answer you within 5 minutes. again. and you just perpetually have 50 unread messages on instagram. and then at some point, you die.