#the amount of comments and even posts (!!!) that the person mentions they’re not even in the field!!!!!

[sharkieboi]

certain fb group for animal care people just makes me sad sometimes cause it’s either just people looking for engagement by asking a very easily searchable question with “cute animal pic for tax!!1!1!1!!1!” so they can get some likes or people discussing actual literal human rights violations that their workplace is trying to commit and being like “but am i the bad person for buying donuts for my team when susan in HR who i never interact with is lactose intolerant?” or people using the anonymous post option to have impromptu group therapy

[meazalykov]

the younger morgan

bayern munich frauen x lena oberdorf x USWNT!bayern!reader

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six

I had just finished unpacking the last of my boxes, and my new apartment in munich felt like home. for once I can breathe and take into my new surroundings. my move to bayern wasn’t confirmed yet, but everyone knew that I wasn’t with san diego anymore due to the post I made to Instagram last night, with the permission of wave, bayern munich and my agent maggie.

(pretend this is you and you are in the photos below)

y/n.morgan

(tagged: y/n.morgan & alexmorgan)

(tagged: y/n.morgan & emilyvanegmond10)

liked by alexmorgan13, stanwaygeorgia, and 59,482 others

y/n.morgan Dear San Diego Wave,

Thank you for one of the most special moments of my life. No amount of words can express the amount of love I have for you all. To my teammates, coaches, staff, and even to my sister thank you for your support during my first year of professional ball. All of the love on and off the pitch means more to me than you'll ever know. To the fans, thank you for your unrelenting support for SD Wave and never failing to make home games feel special. I am so grateful for the memories and friendships I've made here.

I have come to the part of my journey where I can say that I am proud of myself on and off of the pitch, and I am happy for what's yet to come. I cannot wait to see what this next chapter holds.

Go Wave! 🌊

-(initial)M17

comments

alexmorgan13 My favorite girl. I'm so proud. You should be excited for what's next. I love you 🩵

malpugh 🙌

wosofan78 OMG THE BAYERN RUMORS ARE TRUE??

naomi_girma you are so amazing ❤️

bayernfrauenluvr Welcome to Munich 🇩🇪

womenssportsgirl Stanway x Morgan linkup will be deadly omg

random563829 oh shitttt

chelsfemten I wish you went to Chelsea 😣

----

as I sat on my ivory sectional sofa watching netflix, my phone vibrated on my coffee table twice. out of confusion, since I don’t have any plans for another few days, I reached my arm over to grab my phone. 

georgia S: each room will have two people since the whole squad is coming lolll everyone will figure out who their roommates are once we get there

georgia S: everyone else cannot wait to meet you! 

when I chose bayern munich as my next club, i reached out to my only friend who plays at the club. georgia stanway. we had connected through social media almost a year ago because we have a few mutuals in the football community. she was excited and offered to help me transition into the club comfortably. as a start, I suddenly found myself going on a trip with them to ibiza in three days.

georgia had mentioned the Ibiza trip the same afternoon i landed in germany. I met her in person for the first time at a cafe along with giulia gwinn.

they’re sweet girls and we clicked right away, spending the entire evening together just walking around the bavarian city. As we were in a clothing store looking around at random pieces, giulia mentioned how everyone thought the trip would be a fantastic way to welcome me and a few other new girls onto the team and bond as a team before the new season kicked off.

i’ve never been to Ibiza in my life. alex used to spend her early 20s partying there from what I remember as a child. if Ibiza was like anything I've seen from social media– with its sun-drenched beaches, and vibrant nightlife– it seemed like the perfect setting for new friends.

I could hardly wait to meet my new teammates in a more relaxed and fun environment. the pitch could be intense.

while I had yet to officially step onto the pitch with the girls, I felt a connection with georgia and giulia-- I hope the same goes with the other girls on the team.

i’ve already signed a four-year contract with Bayern, and did the media stuff– but the media crew told me that they wouldn’t announce it online until June 27th. it's 16 days until then so I might have to be lowkey with the Ibiza stuff. it depends on what Maggie might suggest.

Y/n M: That's fine! 

Y/n M: I cannot wait to meet the rest of the team too! I am so excited :D

as I responded back to georgia before putting my phone back onto the coffee table, I walked around my neatly arranged apartment.

in my head, i knew I had made the right decision. after leaving San Diego, i felt free.

I know the comparisons with my sister will never end but at least I can be my own person at a club where my sister (barely) has influence.

I walk into my bedroom and pull out my pink suitcase, the same suitcase I traveled with a week before moving here. i started to overpack my bags, as per usual, with bikinis, linen clothing, and gym clothes because I know I'll go on runs there.

we are staying on the party island for a full week so I am excited— and nervous.

will the girls like me? is bayern the experience i've been looking for?

the language barrier won't be a problem since Giulia told me that many of the girls speak fluent english, but I will make an effort to learn the german language throughout my four years here too.

---

three days later– the car ride through the roads of ibiza was a relief after the plane ride that seemed to last forever. I sat in the back seat of the van with giulia, sydney, and sam, while georgia was up front, chatting loudly with klara. 

the mediterranean sun cast a warm glow over everything. its ten in the morning so nothing is going on so far. though, i could feel the excitement bubbling up inside me. it was hard to believe i was finally here, on this beautiful island, ready to bond with my new teammates in a new club!

"so, y/nnn," sydney turned around in her seat to look at me, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as i raised my eyebrows at her, "how has germany been to you so far?"

i thought for a moment, “honestly, its been good. i haven’t done much so far but i did see georgia and giulia on my first day in munich"

sydney nodded, her blonde hair catching the sunlight through her window seat. "thats fun! are you ready for the new season?"

all of the girls have been asking me questions since we took off on the plane to ibiza, i don’t mind it. i’ve been asking them questions as well. i’m new so they’re (rightfully) curious about me and my life. 

"yes i'm looking forward to it," i said, nodding my head as my mind was clouded with images of myself wearing the red kits. "i’ve heard so much great things about bayern– its going to be exciting to play here for the first time"

“however- i am looking forward to the olympics first.” i smirked at sydney who rolled her eyes playfully. 

germany and the united states will face each other in the group stage, which is something that was briefly mentioned on the plane. 

“same here.” sydney said as her left arm nudged my right. 

“when we crush you, we will be the first to comfort you– don’t worry.” klara laughed from the passenger seat. my jaw dropped playfully as i placed my hand on her shoulder, “you wish!” 

“game on, number 17!” klara laughs. 

giulia chimes in, ignoring the playful jokes between me and the other two germans in the car "y/n we’re excited to have you at bayern. ibiza will be so much fun i promise– we do these trips every summer. also, georgia's been telling us about how you two have been friends for a while now.” 

“we have!” i say as i look at georgia’s eyes through her rearview mirror. 

"we met through instagram, actually," the english girl explained, glancing back at me. 

sam laughed. "oh really?? i never knew that!” 

“yeah– you gotta love social media.” 

as we continued our drive, the conversation flowed easily. they asked about my sister, my favorite hobbies, and what I was looking forward to most in ibiza. it felt so natural, something i appreciated deep down. 

eventually, we pulled up to the airbnb, a stunning villa nestled among palm trees with a view of the sparkling sea in the back. 

my heart raced with excitement and a touch of nervousness as everyone got out of the van and grabbed their luggage from the trunk. the rest of the girls from bayern were already in the airbnb, lounging around the pool and enjoying the sunshine while they waited for us. 

as the five of us approached, the girls who had arrived earlier ran out of the front door to greet us. i hung back slightly as the other girls greeted their friends. my social anxiety has gotten better in the last few years, but meeting new people still made me shy.

a girl whos a bit shorter than me– saw me and with a warm smile, was the first to approach me. she hugged me and my arms wrapped around her body too. 

"heyyy, you must be y/n. i’m ines," she said, extending her hand. she had a french accent and a nice smile. "i’ve been waiting to meet you finally!"

"hiiii, it's great to meet you," i replied, pulling away from her body with a warm smile on my face.

the rest of the team came outside from the villa and followed suit. 

after everyone was inside of the villa, ii was starting to feel more at ease when I noticed a girl I hadn’t seen before. she was taller than me with nice brown hair– she had a striking aura to her and an air of confidence that drew me in.

she stood beside lea, who nodded her head towards me. 

"heyyy," she said, her voice smooth and inviting. she walked closer to me as i sat my luggage beside the couch. i’ll take it upstairs later.  "i don't think we've met yet. i am lena."

"hi," i replied, feeling a slight blush rise to my cheeks. "i'm y/n.” 

lena nodded, a playful smile on her lips as she noticed my stiff look. "you don’t have to be shy with me, i just transferred from another club too."

we stood there, the world around us fading slightly as i looked her up and down quickly. she wore black shorts and a lavender colored t-shirt. god– her presence was magnetic, and I found myself genuinely attracted to her.

"looks like we'll have to stick together then," i said, trying to sound casual as i held my hands to the front of my body.

"for sure," lena replied, her eyes brightened.

our interaction was interrupted by the rest of the team, who had clearly noticed our little exchange. anybody around the both of you could see the chemistry. there were knowing smiles that the girls gave each other, which i pretended to ignore as georgia walked to me.

"alright, lovebirds, let’s get you settled in," georgia teased, pulling me away gently as i grabbed my luggage from the side of the couch. "y/n and I are sharing a room upstairs."

as you walked away– lena checked you out. you wore a black tube top along with 501 levi shorts.

lea noticed lena’s looks, and nudged her shoulder playfully. 

“you like her?” lea smirked. 

“she's so beautiful– are they together?” lena knitted her eyebrows together as she saw you walk up the stairs, blushing at something while georgia laughed. 

“no they aren’t. they’ve been friends for a while and she’s single. you should try to get to know her!” sydney chimed into the conversation, seeing lena smile at the confirmation of you being single. 

as i walked into georgia and i’s shared bedroom– my eyes widened. there were two queen sized beds. there are two sets of doors as well. i walked towards the white one which opened to a white spacious bathroom. the other doors had glass windows which lead out to the balcony, where you could see a beach with clear blue water. 

georgia and i started unpacking in a few moments of silence– before she spoke up.

"so, lena, huh?" georgia said with a grin, glancing at me. 

as we headed up the stairs away from lena earlier, she already teased me about it. i ignored her– but i don’t think georgia will take nothing as an answer.

i giggled, feeling a bit flustered as i organized my things in the suitcase. "yeah– she seems nice. its nice to meet someone who's also new to the team."

"uh-huh, sure," georgia said, winking as she walked into the bathroom. 

“what is that supposed to mean?” i called out as my face had a look of confusion. 

"i don’t know– but just remember, we’re here to bond with everyone. don’t get too distracted by her sexy looks."

i rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. i stood up from sitting on the floor as i threw myself onto georgia’s bed. "don't worry, i’m here to bond with the entireeeee team. lena’s just–a bonus!"

georgia laughed. inside of my head, the girl from earlier wouldn’t leave my mind. 

maybe this trip got better, before it even started.

----

hours later laying on my beach towel, i watched most of the other girls in the water as i tanned on the sand. the gentle waves were lapping at the shore and the laughter of the girls was in my hearing. 

it was surreal to think that just a few weeks ago, i was anxiously packing my bags in california, wondering what my new life in germany would be like. now, here I am in spain, on a stunning beach, feeling like i already fit in with my new team.

my brown tote bag took my attention and i quickly pulled out my digital camera. photography had always been a passion of mine, a perfect hobby outside of soccer. 

seeing most of the girls out in the water, i started snapping photos of them. 

their carefree smiles, the silly handstands that pernille started doing under the water with her legs poking out the surface, sam giving sydney a piggy back ride, tainara splashing water on georgia– everyone looked so happy.

there were girls on the sand eating snacks, checking their phones, playing volleyball with their feet, and laying peacefully getting a tan. i took pictures of them too. 

"do you want me to take a picture of you?” a voice said behind me after i snapped a picture of madga with her body buried in the sand– except for her head– thanks to ana and lea. 

i turned around and it was lena. she wore a nice black swimsuit that showed her abs. i had abs too, thanks to soccer, but hers just complimented her so well. 

there was something about her that I couldn't get out of my mind, but i ignored those thoughts as i clutched my camera tightly to my body.

"oh no thank you, it's fine, really," I replied, a bit shy. standing in my red swimsuit, i gave her a faint smile as before she shook her head at me. 

"nonsense," lena insisted with a grin, reaching for the camera as she slowly took it out of my hands. "you need to be in some of these pictures too."

lena took a few steps back with the camera, instructing me on acting casual, making me laugh in the process. 

i laid in the sand and grabbed my book, pretending to read as lena stood. she stopped taking pictures for a few seconds and told me to sit up. confused, i raised my eyebrows before she gave me a random white hat– belonging to lea– to wear on my head. 

after a few more shots, she handed the camera back to me.

"see? not so bad," she said, laying back down on a towel– belonging to georgia– next to mine.

"thank you, lena. you're a pretty good photographer," i said, feeling a bit more at ease as i looked through the pictures on the screen of my camera.

"anytime," she replied, her smile softening. "how did you get into photography? we all have a photographer who plays on the german national team as well."

“wait– are you referring to laura?” 

“you know laura?” lena asked. 

“yes i do! she knows a few of my friends that went to penn state with her. we exchanged jerseys back when the united states played you guys in miami. we took pictures together after that game” i said. 

“oh i remember that!” lena says. 

“you were there?!” i asked. lena’s jaw drops in offense– playfully of course– at my question. 

“yes! you don’t remember the small confrontation we had?” lena asks. my eyebrows knit together in confusion. for a few second, my mind goes blink at trying to remember. 

“you nearly scored but i side tackled you by the box. you didn’t like it so you tackled me a few minutes afterwards when i had the ball in midfield.” lena says, helping me recall the memory. 

my eyes widened as i remembered that moment, but i never connected it to lena. 

“you’re number 6 oberdorf?! oh i was very annoyed by that!” i say. lena and i laugh before we looked out at some of the girls who were getting out of the water. 

“anyways, i got my first camera from my sister when i was 12. she can be blamed for why i own many cameras now.” i say. 

“alex?” lena asked. 

“yes. alex was going to the world cup in 2015 and she got me a camera the year before. during that world cup I always took pictures of her from my spot. she let me take pictures of her with the trophy afterwards. it was one of the first moments that made me fall in love with something outside of football.” i say. lena smiled at me as I looked over at her. 

“wooo hooo!!!” i heard georgia yell out as she runs back in the sand from the water. as i placed my digital camera back into my tote bag, i suddenly felt a light amount of water splash on my body. 

my jaw drops as i see georgia laugh. from the looks of her very wet hair, she whipped her hair forward so all of the water hit my body. 

“stop it!” i giggled as i stood up from my towel and started running away from the soaked girls. 

“get her!!” sam laughed as i got chased through the sand by sydney, sam, klara, lena, and georgia. 

(pretend this is you in the picture below)

y/n.morgan

liked by alexmorgan13, lenaoberdorf, and 37,931 others

y/n.morgan ibiza ibiza 🐚

comments

alexmorgan13 No invitation? 🥲

y/n.morgan sorry sister ❤️

malpugh 😍

stanwaygeorgia at least you got the pictures before you got thrown into the water 😊

y/n.morgan thanks to you and obi 😞

lenaoberdorf a good photographer must've taken these pictures for you 😁

y/n.morgan yes they've done a great job!!

sydneylohmann 🙌🌊

leaschuller is that my hat?

stanwaygeorgia yes 🧢

wosofans7 ALL OF THE BAYERN GIRLS IN THE COMMENTS?

wavesnwsl THIS POST I THINK I FAINTED

wosonews most of the bayern girls are in ibiza too, looks like y/n's transfer is basically confirmed

~view all 2,711 comments~

part three here

<3

[rubyclover]

I said I can’t write but if felt nice getting that other idea out of my head. So I wrote this and will post. Technically I started trying to write this like a month ago… Please ignore the constant switching between past and present tense. It’s something I never seem to notice until someone else points out where it is.

Prompt: Professionals hate him but he was right! [Adam] Heaven and Hell come to the realization that The First Man played a larger part in the three realms’ political/social ecosystem than they thought. His absence leaves a vacuum that Lute is unable to fill but she may not need to because Hell is solving the problem themselves… The Morningstar Family can’t run from this.

No ABetaO we expire like Adam~

Imagine that Adam dies, the hotel has never looked better, the residents have healed up and Charlie gets another TV appearance. Lucifer is even more depressed than before but hides it. Adam is gone She’s going to reveal Sir Pentious’ redemption with evidence that is NOT childishly scribbled on key cards. Instead of the interview taking place in the 666News studio it’s held outside the hotel. She will take questions, live, right after the interview. Katie Killjoy wants to give the public a chance to cause chaos for ratings, so she puts Charlie in a vulnerable position.

Things go great… for the first 20 minutes. The interview isn’t even half way done when someone from the crowd interjects after Charlie says ‘The Sinners have a better life now that the Exterminations are permanently canceled.’

That person’s voice is calm but still pissed as Hell. They fire back that no, Sinners don’t have an easier life now that the Exterminations are over. It’s worse! Charlie and the crowd perk up.

The voice moves to the front. They’re short with plain street clothes, hood up. It’s obvious they’re poor and at the bottom of Hell’s pecking order. A couple of Imps are with them equally disheveled and tired looking. The man goes on to point out some rather hard truths.

Thanks to the last Extermination, angelic steel has become a hot commodity. While uncommon right now, there’s a pipeline to obtain an angelic weapon. All you need is enough money. Carmilla Carmine doesn’t care about how her product is used after purchase.

‘Permanent Murder’ is a new trend on HellTube netting ridiculous profits. The main targets are vulnerable Sinners, usually the scared and alone new arrivals, Imps and Hellhounds. All killed by beautifully glowing angelic weapons.

Overlords are more formidable with these weapons so the chance of contractees escaping, like Angeldust, has become damn near impossible even if they destroyed their contract. Some desperate souls were happy with their messed up immortality. It gave them some hope, ‘at least I have a chance to turn things around eventually,’ but that pathetic security is gone.

The Exterminations kept said Overlords in check to a degree. They were more inclined to take care of their underlings because that guaranteed their safety. Now? Just get an angelic gun for all your troubles. Valentino is having a fucking field day.

The ‘permadeath’ toll for one year will be ten times the amount of one Extermination Day considering how much Hell’s citizens like to kill Sinners…

Not to mention, whole industries in Hell, from top to bottom, are starting to crash. Their purpose or sales revolved around the Exterminations. Some workers cannot afford to lose their job and have to sell their soul against their will.

Etcetcetc

As the man speaks Charlie is surprised to see heads nodding in agreement! Someone comments that they hadn’t seen their Sinner friend in a few days and tries not to panic while another face falls in the crowd and wrings their hands together. An Imp with curved horns standing beside a young Hellhound sweats profusely and starts to leave. Tension moves through the public. Not just the ones in front of the stage but also those watching TV.

Despite her best efforts Charlie cannot lift the crowd’s mood. She realizes prematurely revealing Sir Pentious’ redemption is the only way to salvage this growing disaster. Unfortunately the man’s timing is perfect because the second she opens her mouth he turns his anger on the Morningstars.

He calls out how much her family misrepresents themselves as rulers. They don’t do anything for Hell anymore. They spend most of their time fucking around while the Sinners suffer. The other Sins manage their rings and hellborn, not Lucifer or Lilith. All three of the Morningstars can’t truly understand human suffering yet they profess to know how to best handle it. With no idea what it means to be human yet they pass judgement on them.

The crowd becomes agitated and the Imps beside the man move closer to him. They aren’t trying to draw safety from the Sinner but are taking defensive positions. Charlie realizes this isn’t someone speaking up in the heat of the moment. This is a planned speech. He’s highjacking her broadcast!

She sees the Sinner clench his fists and feels herself start to sweat. Why was he saying any of that? Yes, life will be a bit hard at first but now everyone can come together and rebuild! There are so many possibilities available to The Pride Ring. It would improve lives. Change was always good they just had to be careful. Yet the stranger goes on.

He claims that Lucifer is a washed up angel that can’t comprehend mortality because of his maladaptive dreaming and pride, Lilith is apathetic to Sinners and wishes to aggravate Heaven no matter how much Hell will suffer and Charlie is so sheltered that she thinks PTSD can be solved by clapping and saying positive affirmations.

Little is known about the royal family but the stranger’s comments sway the crowd. The hotel’s original commercials got the time of day because of Charlie’s status, not because the facility had managed to accomplish anything. Lucifer barely appears at all even when large fights break out leveling half of Pentagram City. And Lilith? Missing for 7 years after riling up all of Hell multiple times, causing Heaven to start the Exterminations.

The stranger calls the hotel a disgusting joke. Calls out how Charlie is trying to ‘pass the buck’ over to Heaven. The Pride Ring’s actual rulers are Overlords and they make sure Sinners suffer and continue to act depraved whether they like it or not. Her family has the power to take control and lessen the city’s suffering but they don’t. Instead they play with their little pet project .

Why are they focusing on shipping problems elsewhere? There’s a better way to solve the pain and suffering at the source than waiting! Fix Pentagram City! Show Heaven that the current number of Sinners isn’t a threat!

‘For all the crying and sniveling you do Princess Charlotte, you sure don’t actually help where it counts! I’m sure you care about Sinners but only on the same level as someone cares about cute public park ducks.’

Vaggie, who had been standing to the side of the stage leaps forward, places herself in between the stranger and her girlfriend. Everyone’s raised emotions have put her on edge. She ignores the harsh gasps when her angelic spear slides free and into her hands. ‘Back up! Now!’

Charlie’s heart sank at the escalation. She understood her girlfriend was still tense from the extermination but all their hard work was starting to fray around the edges! She just hoped her dad didn’t-

The King of Hell himself appears through a portal shortly after gathering himself together. The opening looked angrier in color, matching his mood. Sickly green lines run throughout the glow, radiating blistering heat. Parts of the stage began to melt and the forgotten camera crew swivel to their ruler. Lucifer’s face is set in stone but his bright flickering eyes give him away.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ He snarls, apple topped cane slamming onto the stage causing some of it to splatter. ‘How dare you speak to my daughter that way.’ Lucifer’s face morphs into a more demonic grimace. Katie Killjoy scrambles from her chair and off the stage at the same time as Charlie vaulting up to place a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder whispering ‘dad no!’ She doesn’t want the hotel’s improved reputation to evaporate. A confrontation with someone on live TV would scare people away!

Lucifer growls in the back of his throat, looking at where he assumes the bastard’s eyes are under his hood. Smoke and embers sizzle out from the corner of his mouth and inbetween teeth. He hated acting this way but he had an image to uphold. ‘Answer your King you wretch. Don’t confuse my inaction with benevolence. You’re testing my patience!’

After a beat or two of staring each other down the stranger has the gall to ‘tsk’ off to the side as if spitting. ‘As you with your majesty. It’s all fine by me.’ A small, scared hand reaches up and whips off the dirty hood exposing his face to all of Hell.

People instantly whip out their phones. His face is shockingly similar to Lucifer’s, in fact a basic carbon copy sans a few attributes.

Cameras catch alabaster skin and soft, blond, curly hair, short, wiry build, vivid green eyes, pale coral cheek markings, pointed ears and four demon wings the same color as his skin.

Leaf green eyes stair directly into Charlie’s while electing to ignore both fallen angels. He stands ramrod straight. Cutting a regal silhouette despite the filth on his body and clothes.

‘My name is Cain Adamson, The Wandering Star.’ He bows in a fashion Charlie hadn’t seen in all her galas. ‘Lucifer Morningstar’s first born and bastard son. It’s nice to finally meet you sister mine… I’ll be taking your family’s crown for my father.’

[So in this AU Cain rescued Adam’s body and resuscitated it. They had a familial bond even when Cain got banished for murdering Able and found out his bio dad was Lucifer. Eve didn’t pay much attention to her first born out of guilt so Adam stepped up. No one shamed her. Adam never felt like Cain was separate from his other kids even though he looked nothing like him. Now Cain wants to provide for his father who’s trapped in hell and in really bad condition by booting the Morningstars out of power in the Pride Ring.] Dunno about pairing but Adamsapple or Guitarhero would be a safe bet. Either way Lucifer will suffer lol

[wtf do I call this? Family Feud AU? Chessboard AU? Secret Brother AU? Idk h e l p ]

[rose-tinting]

the amount of misinformation that has been circling outside of neopets circles I swear

I see a new rumor every time

“They’re free from nft bros” Nope. Owned by one!

“The original team rebought them” God fucking no and you should not want them to, Adam Powells little meltdown over neopets users criticizing his new crypto venture is reason enough lol.

“The company was sold to Neopets Internal Teams” They sold it to the guy who used to head the former NFT project and are promising this means TNT has more freedom “under new leadership“ with “no current plans for crypto/NFTs” (This is not a promise not to make them)

One of the “brand ambassadors” who is supposed to help TNT with the knowing and understanding the userbase is some celebrity who’s wife is also a celebrity who I’ve seen people CLAIM used to be a Neopets mod. Does that sound like a neopets user who can tell the neopets team what the average user wants? No call for users who aren’t celebrities to become brand ambassadors has been made afaik.

Current Neopets mods are silencing trans people for mentioning HRT as well as top surgery and ignoring cis people talking about pregnancy, death, and surgery. (Have seen these boards go on for several hours and never get deleted even after a heated debate on one one about abortion) 

There’s items and backstory on the site that are racist. Neopets users have asked these be addressed. Do you think this “brand ambassador” will address any of that? Why does the ambassador need to be a celebrity? Unless the actual intent is to have “ambassadors” who sell neopets as a brand to the potential new userbase and isn’t about “listening to the users” at all.

god can one person with a huge following please for once just reblog and acknowledge the TRUTH. (doesn’t have to be from me I’d just like the actual info to be spread!) Awareness will help us keep the worst from happening! Pretending everything is fine until it isn’t is NOT the way!

If you want the actual info on the site Neopets has a fansite dedicated to reporting Neopets news including everything TNT tries to sweep under the rug

https://www.jellyneo.net/?comments=14391

A direct quote from their article on this

“ New CEO of Neopets is Dominic Law, who previously headed the Neopets Metaverse and brokered a "management buyout deal" “

Please if you’re reading this

stop spreading misinformation

spread the real information

make your own post even

this could go either way right now

this is not a “neopets renaissance”

this is a crossroads and we don’t know where we’re going yet. It could be great, or it could be the end of the site.

(Editing my reblog in so it can hopefully get seen too, I was provided with more accurate info on the brand ambassador.)

@pirakeet Thanks! Was actually hoping someone COULD correct this :3 Cause I was REALLY HOPING it wasn’t what it seemed since all I could find was a twitter post with an attached video where he accepts it (I immediately fled twitter may be why)

[Image Text ID]  Posted by tumblr user pirakeet: I’m not correcting anything, but just letting you know the “brand  ambassador” program has been made available - just presumably not in  the ‘john legend’ sense:  https://portal.neopets.com/brand-ambassador-program  and for clarity, i’ve been popping off about the difference, this isn’t a  “gotcha moment”.   There’s more info when you click “apply” and it takes you to a google  doc [End Id]

As I said I’m more interested in the truth being spread so I hope this can be seen!

[watching-sam-and-dean-again]

Sam & Dean are, in fact, soulmates

It’s rant time again! (Sorry)

I saw an idiotic interesting take on Twitter last night where someone claimed that Sam and Dean aren’t soulmates, and that they couldn’t understand how anyone could interpret it that way (particularly referring to "Dark Side of the Moon"). And they actually wondered what show soulmate-truthers (my term) were watching.

Umm, the actual show?

I’ve paraphrased the comment slightly and replies slightly, and I’m not posting a pic of the actual post, because I’m going to try not do that on this blog, but also, this person is just like the others in the replies (and in fandom) who “interpret” the show a certain way because it suits their destiel narrative. They all drank the cool-aid, so why single one out? At the same time, this take shows so little media literacy that it pisses me off. Thus, the rant.

Please do read on if you’re interested.

One argument I saw under this tweet was that Dean needed to find a road to lead him to Sam, so it proves they weren’t in the same heaven.

Wrong.

If they weren’t in the same heaven, Dean wouldn’t have been able to find Sam. Period. We know this because Ash has to do a little spell thing in order for them to leave their heaven (“Winchester Land”) at all. They can’t just jump heavens on their own. We also see this in later seasons. People just don’t hop into each others’ heavens without some sort of help.

Another stupid argument I saw is that Sam and Dean can’t be soulmates because "they’re BROTHERS!”

Wrong Again!

While having a soulmate is often (maybe even most often) seen as a romantic trope, being soulmates is actually not inherently romantic. Let’s even just stay on the WB/CW level for this one for a minute. Dawson and Joey consider themselves soulmates in Dawson’s Creek, but they don’t make a good couple, they work better as friends, and they don’t end up together. While they aren’t entirely platonic, them being soulmates ultimately isn’t about romantic love either. Sorry, I stumbled onto a reactor watching this show lately, so it’s fresh in my mind. You could also make arguments for Xander and Willow, Joey and Phoebe, or Christina and Meredith (Grey’s Anatomy calls it “my person” being science-based, but it amounts to the same thing). Ultimately, being soulmates just means two people have an incredibly close bond, love each other dearly, understand each other on a deeper level than most, and often need each other. Despite what some hellers think, not all love and closeness is sexual or romantic. Finally, if someone sees being soulmates as having to be romantic, they should probably take it up with Kripke.

Anyway, let’s round this rant off at three flawed arguments with this one: people are “free” (passive aggressive) to interpret the episode how they “like,” but Sam and Dean bring soulmates is not actually supported by the episode.

Ugh!

Why the hell would the writers have Ash even mention soulmates in the scene at all, if it wasn’t to tell the audience (and the boys) something important about the characters? Knowing that soulmates share a heaven isn’t necessary to the plot at this moment (if they aren’t soulmates). We have been told people have individual heavens in most cases, so we don’t need to know the soulmate exception to generally understand how heaven works. But we do get this bit of exposition because 1) it tells us why Dean was able to find Sam on his own (with no spells, even though people don’t usually share a space), and 2) because it tells us the info that they are soulmates, bound together no matter what. It deepens their whole tangled up relationship, for better or worse. Is it a bit unusual for brothers to be soulmates? Yes! That’s the whole point. Sam and Dean are weird. This is not news. Where have these people been for the last 4.5 seasons??

Also, Ash looks directly at Sam and Dean after he drops the soulmate bomb. And each of them looks uncomfortable. The scene takes a beat here, a short one but it’s clear, so the audience can acknowledge this info. Why would the camera focus on the characters’ reactions if the soulmates line was a just a random little nugget of info? People hellers will write whole distractions on the significance of “parallels” between characters and “interpret” scenes using head-canons as support, but they can’t don’t want to understand that the camera lingering on the brothers when they learn information about themselves is significant? Also, it suggests in the script that Ash looks away from them to give them a minute to process this info. Why would he care if it didn’t pertain to them? (Hellers. Have. No. Media. Literacy.). Sam and Dean are soulmates. It’s canon.

Also, this is another episode but it adds confirmation. In 15x20, Dean feels Sam on the bridge in the new heaven before he sees or hears him. Thus. Soulmates!

[dailydragon08]

Hey queen! Would love to know how the main ot gang (Han, lando, Chewie, Luke, and leia of course) would react to you asking to hang out, and in turn where they would each personally take you/what you would do together. I’m Intrigued to know what you think, because you understand all of them so well xx

Thank you, that’s so sweet! I’m having so much fun with these and might be opening up my asks again soon for more (not sure yet). I realized after I finished this that there’s a lot of swimming mentioned in this one—it’s starting to get hot where I live, so I guess that’s where my brain is going?

My masterlist and a list of fandoms I write for are available in my pinned post on my page. If you liked this, any reblogs and/or comments would be greatly appreciated! Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist as well!

When you ask Leia to hang out on her off day, she keeps her cool as always, but is elated on the inside. Growing up royalty, she didn’t always have the chance to just make friends with anyone and run around like other kids from her planet (even though she would go against her parents’ wishes whenever she could anyway). Similarly, as an adult, she was always so concerned with matters of the senate, and then the rebellion, and afterwards getting the New Republic off the ground while also fighting off remnants of the empire, that she never really had time to just have a day with a friend who genuinely wanted to spend time with her. Of course, she’s spent time with plenty of people who wanted her for her money, her status, etc.—and of course, there’s Luke, Han, Lando, Chewie, and the droids. But they’re also always so busy, she hardly gets time with any of them. So, a day to hang out with one of her favorite people with no obligations, no rigid timeline for the day, no expectations that she fulfill some superficial status transaction—yes, please.

Honestly, she kind of strikes me as the type of person that likes to constantly be in go, go, go mode. She likes feeling productive, so anything she does to relax is also productive in a way – playing some sort of logic game like chess or a card game, learning something new, or even playing some sort of low-stakes sport. Growing up on Alderaan, I can really see her having a love of swimming, too. Privacy is probably something she really values, so maybe she takes you for a little morning swim with her, followed by a breakfast full of fruits and foods from her home planet. Afterwards, you dry off in the sun while reading your own books, then in the afternoon, go to a museum she’s been dying to explore with you – incognito, of course. She relishes having chances to walk around like anyone else without being in danger or ogled by passersby and actually enjoys the simplicity of “common” clothing and even makes a little date out of picking disguises with you. Afterwards, she insists you pick where they eat—still in disguise, of course—and finds herself pleasantly surprised by your pick, which becomes one of her favorite places. After, if you’re still up for hanging out and are into this sort of thing, she takes you back to her private quarters to do face masks, make some tea, and she may even braid your hair in a style that’s easy to sleep in, and will still look sleek and smooth in the morning while you relax and watch videos on the holonet.

Although Luke grew up having more typical kid experiences, he still grew up on a farm and was bullied within his friend group. Biggs got busier the older they both got, so one-on-one, harassment-free hang outs with him were few and far between. Now with the rebellion, jedi training, and even rebuilding the jedi and trying to figure out which parts of the order to keep and which to reform, he has an immense amount of pressure on his shoulders and constantly feels like he’s got so much to do and so little time to do it. For this reason, convincing him to even take a day off at all—let alone spend it for pleasure vs work—might feel a bit like pulling teeth at first. But once you start listing off all his favorite activities, you see him start to crack a bit. The more activities you list, the more his blue eyes start sparkling with excitement and the more he’s fighting the urge to smile. Eventually, once you promise to help him get caught up the next day and tell him he deserves a day off after all he’s been through and done for the galaxy, he caves with a quiet laugh.

Similar to his sister, he also likes learning new things and doing an actual activity to wind down, but at a slower pace. He always starts the morning off with a meditation and is elated when you seem interested in learning. Even if you aren’t Force-sensitive, Luke’s never had an opportunity before this to pass the jedi teachings down and is very excited about it to the point that you have to contain your laugh. Later, he’ll home-make you two a nutritious breakfast he used to have many mornings on Tatooine, insisting that it gave him lots of energy to work the moisture vaporators for hours. You spend most of your day with him outside, and if you’re in a sandy place, he’ll tell you all about games he used to play with his friends growing up and maybe even demonstrate some of them for you. If you join in and it turns into the two of you playing the exact same game, he’ll have the biggest smile on his face the whole time. After growing up on a desert planet, he also became so interested in plants and fauna that thrive in more tropical environments, and might enlist your help in caring for some he has either in a pot under a sunlamp in his room or a garden he’s trying to start outside. Leia also got him interested in all things water and swimming, but hasn’t had much time to hone his skills, so asks for your help if you’re a good swimmer. If you’re just as hopeless as he is, he’s happy to just splash around with you instead. After, he’ll also curl up with you with a good book and maybe even lay his head in your lap and take a little snooze once you start stroking his hair. Once he wakes up to both of your stomachs growling, he’ll cook dinner together with you and eat it outside if possible before ending your day with a stargazing session where he points out all the different constellations with you tucked under his arm.

Han looks at you like you just grew a second head when you ask if he wants to hang out. “You wanna hang out with me? Well…I mean, I’ve got some good alcohol stowed away on the Falcon if you want some. If Chewie hasn’t drank all of it,” which of course gets a very disgruntled growl from the Wookiee—but whether that means he resents the accusation or the fact that he didn’t know about this alcohol in the first place, you’ll never know. Han isn’t the most emotive person, so he’s a bit harder to read, but does seem happy you’re there with him.

He gets you onboard the Falcon early in the morning and flies the two of you to this small town (if it can even be called that) in the middle of nowhere that at first, doesn’t look too promising. He quickly leads you inside a 24-hour pub that is the most hole-in-the-wall place you’ve ever seen. At first, you wonder what he’s even thinking—until breakfast gets there. You’re not sure how this unassuming place has some of the best waffles, eggs, bacon, pancakes, you name it, that you’ve ever had, but it does. As you’re leaving and you realize the line is out the door and around the building, you now understand why Han was so insistent you get up at the crack of dawn. Through a few alleyways and around the back of another building, he leads you through this ominous door to reveal an arcade complete with a faux shooting range. When you ask him how he finds all these places that look completely unappealing from the outside, but hold the best little hidden gems inside, he just shrugs and says “part of the smuggling job, I guess. You gotta be willing to go through the crusty outside to get to the juicy middle—just like me.” Of course, when you then point out that his “outside” is anything but crusty, he just scoffs and insists you’re trying to get more free food out of him, but you can tell he’s happier and more relaxed than he has been in a long time. You spend the afternoon playing all the games he explains were staples of his childhood before moving to the shooting range. When you ask to go back to that same 24-hour pub for dinner, he laughs, slings his arm around your shoulders, and says “see? Sometimes I do know what I’m talkin’ about,” before indulging you. The two of you head back to the ship and enjoy a few drinks (maybe get a little tipsy in the process; but if you don’t drink, he has some non-alcoholic drinks stored there as well, just for you) before he flies you back home. Despite his rough and tumble exterior he likes to preserve, he does insist on walking you to your door—or if you’d rather just tumble into one of the Falcon’s bunks, he’ll gently lift your head onto the pillow and put a blanket over top of you before crashing next to you.

I’m fully convinced that despite Lando’s more refined reputation (or slightly rougher one, depending on who you ask from his past), he can actually be very excitable and is prime best friend (and more) material (I haven’t read the EU or seen the Han Solo movie, please don’t come for me). When you ask him to hang out, he can’t stop his huge grin and “yes, of course!” He, however, strikes me as an “I like a plan” kind of guy, even on his off days—and he may or may not want to impress you and make sure he takes you to all the best places ahead of time.

Lando gives me strong “I like just about anything if I’m doing it with my friends” kind of guy, so is down for just about anything and lets you take the lead a bit more when it comes to planning. However, if you ask to be shown around Cloud City, this man is soooo excited. Especially once the New Republic takes over, he’s put so much time and effort into really making his city a fair, clean, one-of-a-kind, modern, and welcoming place for any who want to call it their home and spares you no expense—no matter how outlandish you think your requests are. What started off as just a day together quickly turns into him pampering you in all the best ways possible. He’s not even trying to impress you, he’s just 110% convinced you deserve all the pampering in the galaxy. You want to eat breakfast and drink artisan coffee/morning drink of choice in a hot tub? You got it. You’ve never swam in an infinity pool before? Oh, he’s going to fix that—and his infinity pool has a perfect view of the clouds and sky. He insists you won’t fall over the edge if that’s what you’re worried about, but lets you cling to him just the same, and tells you all about all the birds that fly by. He’s happy to either have dinner catered to his private home where you two eat in front of full floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the rest of the city, or take you out to one of the best restaurants nearby. You’re 100% getting the five-star treatment, whether you don’t mind being out in the open or want to remain a bit more inconspicuous, before settling down for the night with some wine (or a non-alcoholic cocktail of choice) and a board/card game.

Chewie (platonic) can be scary when he wants to be, but to those he loves, he’s the biggest softie. When you ask him to hang out on your day off, he vigorously nods before letting out an excited string of Shyriiwook, followed by his usual crushing bear hugs. If you’re fluent in his language, it makes the day all the better—but if you’re not, it’s no big deal to him, since he’s learned to communicate well without words out of necessity.

I think like Luke, he’d want to spend most of the day outside and just enjoy walking around and exploring with you. He strikes me as the type who doesn’t really make a plan for his off time, but would rather wander around some sort of town center with you and just walk into any places that pique either of your interests. But he’s also happy to even just roll around in the grass with you and is surprisingly good at making flower crowns. Because of his line of work and the rebellion, he values survival skills and if you’re lacking in any department, he insists on teaching you—especially fishing. Apparently, that was something he used to do frequently on Kashyyyk and got quite good at it—well, good at it Wookiee style anyway. He waits by the bank of a river and stays so still, someone could almost mistake him for a tree trunk. Right when a fish swims close enough, he dives his hands in and grasps it with his two giant paws, showing it to you with a triumphant growl before teaching you how to cook it over a campfire. You can’t help but laugh when he proudly pulls some seasonings out of his bag. The fish is actually delicious, and you spend the rest of the evening enjoying each other’s presence and chatting—whether you can understand every word he says, or whether he does his best to pantomime (or maybe use 3PO as a translator if you were able to pry him from the twins’ sides). At the end of the day, you two work together to clean up the campfire and before going your separate ways back home, he gives you a parting hug and affectionate pat on the head.

~~

Taglist: @kaleidoscope1967eyes @masterlukessaber @coffeeorsomething-irl @eveningserenityyy @victorian-nymph @lxstfathier @rogue-kenobi @lavandula-ipsum @sonofthedunes @pomplalamoose @lex-the-flex @ilovemarkhamill

[otherone12]

What Would They Do, If They Just Knew (Pt 2)

Gerard Way × Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N:Heyy! Here's a pt2 of "What Would They Do, If They Just Knew". There will probably be continuity errors, so I ask you to ignore them. Hope you like it as mutch as i liked to write. If you have any request, send me and i'll be glad to write ^^

Summary: You are a famous actress who was dating Gerard for about 2 years, but you haven't turned your relationship public yet, because of all the issues that this could bring to your career. However, you both were hired to some Comic-Con, and you don't know whether or not this is the right time to tell'em about it.

- Word Count: 1.290

- Warnings: Big age gap and anxiety content!

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language ... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV

When we came back down from the stage, the amount of people asking questions around us left me stunned, and I can definitely say that Gerard wasn't at all comfortable with the situation either. I've never been one to avoid interviews or shy away from cameras, but I think the last time I was approached like that was when I was cast in a superhero movie.

Hand in hand, we walked past the crowd of people and got into the car, leaving them with no answers.

- Holy shit! They just got crazy there. - A relieved laugh came out of my mouth when I looked at the window, seeing a lot of people outside - At Least they weren't throwing things at us.

- Yeah. - He took a deep breath, but you could see in his eyes that he was still quite dizzy. - Are you okay?

I nodded, although I was thinking about how we would deal with this in the next few days. I know that in a week or two people will forget about it and our lives will go back to normal, but still. 

- Are you? - I asked with the kinder tone I could do at that point.

- I'll be, just need to sleep. - He smiled and started to drive. - I’m exhausted.

- Do you want to stay in my place? - considering that my house is closer, I think it would be logical for him to stay there. - My bed is big enough for the two of us. 

- I'd love to. 

*** time skip ***

We fell asleep cuddling, and when I woke up, still in his arms, I grabbed my phone and checked the absurd amount of mentions involving our names on all social media. Things like “such a cute couple” made me smile, but there were more “They’re using Gerard for hype” or “Ew! that middle-aged guy knows how creepy dating a person THAT much younger?” than I thought that would be. 

My heart raced as I scrolled through the posts and saw that it was getting worse and worse. Far from being okay, I turned off my cell phone and began to think about how Gerard would react to this. A hot tear ran down my cheek and I held his arm tightly, trying to calm down.

Was this a good idea? Was telling them really a good idea? There were a lot of people talking shit about us, but it wasn't as if we didn't know that this could happen; on the other hand, there were people defending us and being very kind. 

When Gerard finally woke up, we went to the kitchen and had a coffee. I didn’t know how to tell him, but I couldn't hide it from him either. This anguish was gradually consuming me, but I tried to feign naturalness in all my movements, wanting to avoid any questions at all costs.  If the subject did come up naturally, the best thing to do was not to appear shaken by the comments, even though I was, and tell him to do the same. 

- So… about yesterday… - The question I was most afraid came faster than a bullet - have you already seen people’s reactions? 

Before answering, I took a deep breath and felt my eyes fill with water again. With the cup of coffee in my hands, I took a sip and concentrated so as not to let the fear overflow with more tears. 

- Babe? 

He didn't demand answers, but showed concern when he saw that I was about to break down right there in front of him. Without saying another word, he came close to me and comforted me in his arms. After a few seconds, he broke the silence.

- I knew that this was gonna happen… But I'm here no matter what, okay? - He hugged me tighter and all I could do was breathe heavily, attempting to feel some kind of peace. -  And we’ll be fine, nothing’s gonna change between us, sugar. 

A gigantic weight seemed to have been lifted off my shoulders when he finally said that. the lump that had formed in my throat loosened enough for me to confirm his statement.

- You promise? 

With serious features, he looked deep into my eyes, causing the environment around me to become blurred and without hesitation he said

- I promise. 

I swear I tried to erase everything I read from my mind, but my stomach churned again and with a trembling voice I blurted out an empty argument:

- But the people-

- I don’t care at all, babe, and you shouldn’t either! They’re just frustrated ones that can even write the swearing right! 

Without even realizing it, I let out a giggle. He makes me feel so good, even in my worst moments.

 I turned off my phone and didn’t look at it for the whole day, so we spent the day together. We talked about Gerard comics and he helped me go over my lines. Everything went so well that I even forgot everything that had happened in the morning, except of course for the promise that nothing would change. When I realized it, it was already late at night.

    I was in the kitchen, making dinner, when I heard footsteps getting closer. I keep my eyes in the pan to not burn it all, then I notice when the sound stopped.

    - Babe… - Gerard was standing in the beginning of the hall with a bottle of hair dye in his hand. - Do you think I should dye my hair black again? 

    - If you want to… 

    - I'm asking what YOU think, not what I think, babe! -  He whined like a kid. - So… should I?

    I giggled at his reaction and took a second to think about how to respond to him.

    - Well, personally, I love your gray hair. - I said, looking at him. I tried to cut myself off, but i couldn't held myself and murmured the next sentence. - Actually, I think it's kinda hot

    He passed through the kitchen door and walked slowly over to where I was. Attempting to pretend that I didn't said that, I bright my focus back to what I was cooking, but Gerard was in front of me with a raised eyebrow. 

    - Sorry, sugar, do you mind repeating? - He heard me. I could see in his gaze that he knew exactly what I said. With a damn grin on his face, he continued. - A bit louder now, if you don't mind.

    - I said... - I tried to use a loud tone, but I feelt a little embarrassed to say that again, knowing he was paying attention and looking directly into my eyes. I cleaned my throat and tried again. - I said that I think your gray hair is kinda hot. But you already know that, right?

    I felt my cheeks turning red while I looked away from his beautiful eyes and heard him chuckle at the situation.

    - If you say so… - He walked close to my body and stood behind my back, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. He brought his mouth close to my ear and whispered - then m gonna keep it like this. 

    He pressed a kiss on my neck, making me melt on him. The way he makes me feel is so surreal that sometimes I wonder if I'm just imagining it all. The "too good to be true" feeling haunts me from time to time, but moments like these remind me that I'm extremely lucky to have him with me, even though we heard a lot of shit about us since we turned our relationship public. 

    I guess we’ll have to deal with it, fortunately, we have our friends and the real fans to support us. 

___________________________________________

~ Well, that's it! lemme know if you like it ^^

[nalyra-dreaming]

Thank you for sharing your thoughts on the 2026 of it all. It is understandable with the amount of detail involved in this show that it would take a great amount of planning and and time given the different locations, sets, plot lines. There is a trend where viewers of any tv show are starting to get incredibly peeved off about having to wait 2,3+ years for a new season of 6-8 or even 10 if they’re lucky episodes of television. Even the most popular shows that have recently aired these past few months on different platforms and networks have mentioned release dates 2/3+ years from now for new seasons and people are fatigued by this release format and everyone in the industry is aware of it. Even if the episodes are amazing it’s incredibly bothersome to viewers to have to wait that long. Of course there are things outside of their control that can delay it all and that doesn’t go unnoticed (ie, the writers and actors strikes). It’s unclear and hard to say how long post production takes because each tv show requires different post production responsibilities depending on the creative requirements of each show. All of this to say that I have seen fans assume it will take a year or more for post production (ADR, editing the episodes, etc) and lead to a late 2026 premiere date when we don’t know this show’s process of doing that before they release the promotions and episodes. As was mentioned, early EARLY 2026 at the latest because Rollin and the team know that fans will become restless and want new content asap especially if they go mostly radio silent for nearly a year or more to film the episodes, produce Lestat’s entire album, etc. and we don’t see/hear from them until season three promotion

Yeah, there are a lot of moving pieces to consider.

I just posted an ask by @elovessomanythings, who noticed that the expo Daniel came out of supposedly was in March 2026... if that holds, then Rolin's comment of "2026" takes on a bit of a different meaning (imho).

Personally, I hope AMC (and a lot of other studios) get back to more regular, yearly releases. While I am all for quality I do think that there is a risk to lose engagement after all, and especially for IWTV, I really don't want to see that happen.

Fingers crossed.

[mostremote]

USE THIS TO POST ANY/ALL EVERSNOW YOU DONT PLAN ON POSTING

(ex. too graphic of sex scenes, idk maybe i’m just a whore for that old man but that’s really what i’m after)

lmao ok!!!

I won't post everything because I just have a mess of folders and subfolders and drafts and redrafts of all kinds of things and they're not that coherent. I've got a couple of pieces that are nearly finished or at least mostly coherent that only need a bit of work to finish, so i'll try to get to those.

For now here is a much earlier draft of what eventually became Chapters 11 & 12 of The Shivering Season, "Proserpine" and "Bombs". This approach just wasn't working for me so I entirely started over. There's a few chapters where I just scrapped what I had and started again. But there's still some fun stuff in here, I like Snow not knowing how to deal with Katniss' inexplicable hypersexuality.

Pancakes again. Katniss turns them over with her fork, over and over. They’re always making her pancakes. Is it because they know her mother made them? Is it to try to make her feel better, remind her of home? Or hurt her? Make her miss what she can’t have?

She cuts them into little pieces and makes towers. She builds the town hall of District 12 and the square, and she smiles as she makes the street with the bakery. She imagines Peeta, coming and going from the little pancake house. He would think it was funny to live in a pancake.

‘Is your breakfast particularly amusing this morning?’ comes Snow’s dry voice, and Katniss’ smile drops as she looks up.

‘Not really.’ She topples her pancake towers and moves them around her plate in entropy.

‘You ought to eat something.’ He isn’t even looking at her; he’s distracted by whatever he’s reading on a tablet. ‘You keep skipping breakfast. It’s not healthy.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

He glances at her. There it is: concern mixed with threat. A certain amount of unhealthy is useful to him. Too much is dangerous.

Katniss spears the smallest piece of pancake and lifts it to her mouth. It makes her sick to chew it, but Snow seems satisfied.

‘As I mentioned last week, there have been some comments on how “stiff and uncomfortable” you and I sometimes appear with one another.’ He holds up the tablet and shows her a photo. Katniss can’t help but crack a grin. It’s the two of them at some stupid event. They’re holding hands, but both are looking in the opposite direction. Katniss isn’t sure which of them looks more like they want to kill someone. ‘I’m glad you find this amusing,’ says Snow. ‘Perhaps you have forgotten how tenuous all of this is. Marrying you might have obliterated the mockingjay symbol, but there are plenty of people left who want to kill us. If people start to think you’re unhappy with me, well – they might reinvent you. The kidnapped child bride of the President. That might rejuvenate the rebellion. Is that what you want?’

‘No,’ says Katniss quickly. ‘I’ll do better.’

‘We both need to do better.’ He nods at one of the servants who comes to deliver the tablet along the table to Katniss. ‘Take a look at those. I had one of my team draw up a…’ He rolls his eyes and pulls a face of uncharacteristically extreme disgust. ‘…a selection of suggested intimate gestures that you and I might employ in public to appear more palatable. Approve the ones you’re comfortable with.’

Katniss accepts the tablet without looking the servant in the eye. She starts to flick through them. Each gesture has a title, a sunny summary, and an awful cartoon diagram to illustrate it. Head resting on shoulder: this is an easy way to express the stability and comfort one person feels in the other… Black-and-white, insipid cartoon people smile back at her, one resting its head on the other. After that comes forehead kiss, hand on thigh, hand on the back of the neck, stroking hair, nuzzling…

‘Nuzzling?’ she says incredulously.

‘We can veto that one,’ Snow mutters. ‘And forehead kissing. That will only remind people of our age disparity. Do you have any vetoes?’

Katniss tosses the tablet down. Weird little shapes are dancing before her vision and her anxiety is starting its inexorable climb up her throat. ‘Do any of them. Whatever.’ She collects herself a little. ‘Uh, not hand on the back of the neck, please. I’d feel like you were choking me.’

‘Fine.’

‘Maybe we should kiss more,’ she murmurs.

‘It would be easy for that to become unseemly. Katniss?’

She is rubbing her forehead over and over and over again. ‘What?’

‘Are you alright?’

Katniss contorts her face into something like a bracing smile. ‘Yeah. I’m fine. What’s happening with the rebellion? Are people still fighting?’

Snow nods and sips his coffee like death and rebellion are quotidian topics for breakfast discussion. ‘District 11 has been very inflammatory. A few dozen were shot there last week. But they’re making little progress, we’ll easily put them down. It’s just a question of how many lives they’ll lose before they surrender. District 12 has been utterly complacent. I think they saw the wedding as—’

‘A betrayal?’

‘Yes, perhaps,’ he says lightly. ‘Either way, they’re not willing to die anymore for what you once symbolized. But then we have other problems. Many in the Capitol were unhappy with our increase in rations to the Districts, so we have enemies on that side, too. There are plenty who think you’re a poisonous influence on me, eroding the Capitol’s power from within. That coterie want us both dead. Fortunately, they’re not a large or powerful group – at least at the moment. But if the election doesn’t go our way, well…’

Katniss’ head is full of cotton wool and ants. ‘If what? They’re only electing who’ll take over when you die, right? And you’re not…’ She frowns. Looks at the tiny pieces into which he cuts his food. Can see even from here a bit of blood on his napkin. ‘You’re not going to die soon, right?’

‘I don’t intend to, Katniss, much as that might disappoint you.’ His smile is wry and wan. ‘But the moment a successor is chosen, then certain people might get… impatient. The summary, Katniss, is that we have enemies on all sides. The best thing we can do is keep up appearances.’

Katniss crumbles some piece of pancake between her forefinger and thumb. This is like eating, only better, because it doesn’t make her sick. ‘Can I do anything more? Be more…’ There’s a big blank spot in her vision now, and it covers all of Snow’s face if she holds her head in a certain place. She shifts her head back and forth, back and forth, watching him disappear and reappear…

‘Katniss?’

‘Oh.’ She blinks. The blank spot remains. ‘I was going to say, can I be more… I don’t know, attractive to them? What would help?’ She shrugs. ‘I’ll do anything.’

‘In terms of your styling, I don’t think there is any room for useful improvement. All we can do is sell our relationship to them. Hence all of that.’ He waves, revolted, at the tablet.

‘You can do what you want to me,’ Katniss says, her words vague, her thoughts elsewhere – her thoughts nowhere. ‘I’ll make it look okay. I’ll smile, and I’ll look like I like it. I can do it.’

‘I don’t want to do anything to you,’ says Snow, and his voice is strangely gentle. ‘And if you can’t cope with any of this, we can reassess. I need you in one piece, Katniss. Do you understand?’

Katniss nods. She picks up a large piece of pancake, crumbles it, lifts it to her lips, tastes a few crumbs, then lets the rest fall to her plate. It sort of looks like she just ate a whole chunk.

‘I understand. I’m fine.’ She smiles, just how she does for the cameras, and all she can see in Snow’s face is skepticism and concern.

It’s easier once they’re in the car together. Some weird reversal has happened to Katniss’ anxiety. Rather than spiking whenever Snow touches her, now it’s at its worst when she’s worrying about it, or thinking about it. Actually feeling him against her is the worst things can ever be, and there’s something comforting in that. There’s reassurance to the smell of blood on his breath. It means the worst is currently happening: you are already in hell, and that’s okay.

They have to open some stupid new art gallery or political building or execution block today, so they stand for the crowds and smile. Katniss doesn’t initiate any of the new physical gestures, but Snow touches her shoulder and her hair. After he gives his speech, when the cameras are supposed to have lost interest (but, they both know, have not) he pulls back her hair and kisses her lightly, like this is meant to be a private moment and they just can’t help themselves.

As he shifts her hair Katniss is yanked back to her coronation after winning the Games, the first time he ever spoke to her. She had to stand still and let him touch her then, too. He didn’t ask permission then. He hated her. Now he doesn’t seem to mind her so much. Does that make it harder for him to touch her? Or is it because the first time he touched her it was predatory: examining a thing he had to control. Now it’s affectionate – or the performance of affection. Katniss wonders which she hates more.

[This is when a version of the ballet, hand-on-thigh scene from “Proserpine” originally occurred]

Katniss is struggling. The misplaced cog rolls around her body and makes it misbehave, makes it sick. Her anxiety has reached its limit, and the fluid that spills over in excess is abject and stinking and it pools between her legs.

They’re at a party. A fundraiser? A campaign party? It’s something to help some Capitol politician that Snow thinks is important, somehow, and Katniss is expected to attend and advertise to everyone the wonderful unity Snow has achieved with the districts.

She is not doing a good job.

When Snow reaches for her hand, Katniss pulls away. When he smiles at her, she turns her head. When the rich, fetid smell of his blood-breath cascades over her, familiar and vile and, now, also, delicious, she looks anywhere else. His scent drops through her chest and congeals in her abdomen, and then she feels sharp notes flutter through her clit. She tries to keep as much distance between them as she can, but just his presence and his smell – which once just filled her with anxiety – now fills her with syrup.

Snow is displeased.

He tries to engage her in light conversation when there’s a lull in the political small-talk, but Katniss’ voice is sticky in her throat. She cannot meet his eyes, and she cannot be near his mouth. He keeps trying to hold her hand, or touch her waist, or put a hand on her shoulder, and she keeps sliding away. It isn’t even putting a stop to her arousal, but she cannot countenance letting him touch her and letting that feeling build again. It’s profane.

The evening is crawling by and Snow is trying once again, in futility, to get Katniss to let him hold her fingers in his, when he finally has enough.

‘We need to talk,’ he says, and tries to steer her out of the crowded room. Katniss shies away from his hand and walks ahead until they’re out in the empty, quiet corridor, where Snow finds a private alcove in which to address her. His face is set in confusion and disappointment. Not yet anger. That will come soon. ‘What on earth is wrong with you tonight?’ he hisses. ‘We are supposed to be an advert for a prosperous new alliance between the Capitol and the districts, and you are doing an extremely poor job of selling that.’

Katniss leans as deep into the alcove as she can, her bare shoulders rubbing against the walls, trying to get away from Snow’s breath and his smell.

‘I’m just not feeling very well,’ she says.

‘That’s not good enough. As far as I can tell, there is nothing physically wrong with you. You can walk around and eat well enough, so there shouldn’t be anything precluding you from holding my hand.’

She’s not even eating that well. Snow has simply become so accustomed to watching her pick at her food that he doesn’t register any difference.

‘Can I just have the night off?’

‘No.’ She is trying to sidle away from him again, and Snow places his palm on her other side to trap her. His voice is sand and broken glass. ‘Thus far, Katniss, I have mostly been impressed with your conduct – barring a few notable incidents. You have played your role excellently. But this is unacceptable. You cannot have the night off. You cannot take a break. I warned you what this life would be like, didn’t I?’

A ghostly smile haunts her face. ‘No end,’ she repeats from memory. ‘No respite.’

‘Exactly. So, are you going to do your job, or do I have to force you?’

Katniss convulses with a shiver. The new, cancerous part of her likes the idea of being forced. There is no way out of this maze, only ever deeper in. Digging in the dirt at the center, burying her face among the worms.

‘Okay,’ she breathes, her voice high with despair. Resigned and disintegrating, she reaches for his hand and intertwines their fingers together like schoolkids in love. With her other hand, she reaches out and touches his face. His skin is soft paper, bristled and familiar, old and hateful. He does not stop her when she kisses him. It’s a small, pathetic, grieving kiss, and Katniss feels her body’s sexual response come in low, persistent waves. Perhaps it would be easier if she could just keep kissing him, and forget about the party, and lose herself in the sewage.

Snow pulls his lips away. ‘Good,’ he says, confused. ‘We don’t need to kiss, Katniss; it’s only a campaign party. Just try not to seem revolted by me.’ He smiles, and Katniss returns it with a completely different smile. Oh, she is revolted. Her revulsion will never be exorcised out of her. But the revulsion is lined with gold, and it makes her cunt leak.

At the very least, it’s kind of funny.

Katniss lets Snow escort her around the party and show her off, and she laughs at the men’s jokes. She lets Snow touch her however he likes, and when his hands brush against her waist or he leans against her side, unintentionally pressing her breasts, the usual anxiety sparkles into arousal.

She is introduced to some important senators who Snow tells her pose some important rival to Daric, a man she can barely remember, and Katniss laughs and smiles and looks at her husband with what looks like love but which is actually putrid desire.

‘I must say, you are every inch as stunning as you are on television,’ says one senator.

‘An astounding creature,’ says another. ‘You practically glow.’ Katniss smiles winningly.

‘My husband brings it out of me,’ she croons, and everybody laughs, and she turns her head to Snow’s and gives him a gentle kiss. He accepts it, as he must, and you can practically taste everybody’s heartfelt sentiment.

But Katniss doesn’t let him go.

She places one hand on the back of his neck and holds him prisoner, as once she did to punish him, and she lets her kiss bloom with all of her lips and her saliva and her tongue. She feels the craters of his mouth sores and erotic disgust trembles through her.

Just at the point where she knows she cannot push impropriety any further, Katniss pulls away. Snow’s expression must look like affection, but she knows how to track the fury in his eyes.

Katniss turns back to the senators – whose eyes are wide and astounded at the display – and smiles again, the picture of grace, and she laughs and the men laugh and everything is fine.

It is not until they are back in the car that Snow unfurls his anger. He waits until they are sat side by side, silent and unspeaking, and then he looks at her with his own kind of disgust.

‘I have warned you about this, Katniss,’ he says. His voice burns. ‘I warned you at the auction. You need to behave better than this. This is unacceptable.’

Katniss feels high with surreality and arousal.

‘It wasn’t unacceptable,’ she says lightly. ‘I was very careful. They were impressed by that. It was passion, not humiliation.’ She gives him a flat, adolescent stare. ‘They like to see that sort of thing. You’re not some sad old man who bought a child; you’re a man who inspires…’ She sighs and hopes a suitable phrase will come to her. Nothing suitable comes. ‘Who inspires intense sexual desire. They want to see that, the men. Makes them think they can get the same thing. They’ll go home, have sex with their wives that hate them, and they’ll fantasize about going out to District 10, 11, 12 and picking up some desperate little teenager who worships them. You’re selling them an ideal.’

Snow is unsettled, and Katniss likes that. He does not know where the lines lie. Nor does she.

‘It is true I have not been married in a long time,’ he says carefully. ‘And my last wife was one I specifically chose for her plain and conservative qualities. But… Katniss, it is not normal behavior.’

‘Of course it’s not normal,’ she scoffs. ‘How many men there genuinely have wives like me that adore them and want to fuck their brains out?’

He looks away from her at that. How he can’t stand it! But it’s not fun anymore. She’s not trying to torment him; she’s just wandering around her new labyrinth.

‘You just don’t like it because it makes you uncomfortable,’ she continues. She manages a bitter smile. ‘You’re kind of a prude like that.’

She studies the streetlights and the people for a while, and then she realizes Snow is watching her. She looks back at him. His expression is strange to her.

‘I worry about you, Katniss,’ he says quietly.

Katniss laughs: a short, brash bark, and then she throws back her head and convulses with laughter. It feels good to laugh; it takes the edge off her arousal.

‘Oh, sure, sure,’ she says, surfacing from the fit. ‘The man who let my District starve to death for years, who idly stood by as I fought for my life in the Games, the man who threatens to kill me on, oh, a daily basis… He’s worried about me.’

She expects a fight, or a cutting remark. But Snow only watches her. For some reason, it stops being funny. Katniss settles down and avoids his eyes. He does not stop staring.

‘Yes, Katniss,’ he says, at last. ‘I worry.’

She glances at him sidelong, and he finally turns away from her and absorbs himself in whatever important news has been poured into his tablet. She thinks about kissing him again. She thinks about smashing her head into the window, or getting into the minibar and taking one of those little glass bottles to her wrists. She would love to bleed out, wade into the quiet, and Snow could recede on the distant horizon. She would float away in the red, and wave goodbye, and he would wave back.

But… Prim…

So she sits still, and she tries to rest her mind, but it’s full of flies and blood and Snow’s lips, so she resorts to counting the streetlights, and she tries not to think about the raw, pulsing pit that her new future is hurtling toward.

[sharpen-your-hatchet]

What I Feel; What I Do; What I Want || Wenclair fic - Chapter 3

Description: "Frankly, all her life, she has felt separation between what she feels, what she does, and what she actually wants. Being royalty means there's often little room for opinion and desire [...]; Enid wonders how it'll feel to have her ingrained sense of duty be pitted against her unshackled curiosity. "

Six months past her 19th birthday - Enid, princess of The Kingdom of Nevermore, is allowed the chance to travel and explore the world as she sees fit. Unfortunately, it comes with a little caveat... in the form of some unwelcome company for protection. Cue Wednesday Addams, the only knight deemed worthy, and who is now Enid's personal thorn in her side.

Can they work together despite their differences? Or maybe fate has an entirely different plan for them altogether...

Pairing: Wednesday Addams / Enid Sinclair

Rating: Teens & Up

Word Count: 9,896

Click Here To Read On AO3 or read below!

x-x-x-x-x-x

A few days have passed, and Enid finds herself on her fifth day of travelling, already feeling a million miles from the person she was at the start. Emotionally; physically – in such a short amount of time, everything feels different.

They’re in the hills now, having passed through a number of trading posts, stables, and inns. The journey has been unlike anything she’s experienced… challenging, and yet freeing and somehow easy to adapt to. Admittedly, she misses some of the luxuries of her castle home – her clothing, the magnificent kitchen and its staff, not to mention the feel of crawling into her own bed each night. These have all been replaced with the same hand-washed travel outfit, basic but homely cooking, and whatever bunk, cot, or hammock they can find.

It’s different. But she kind of likes it.

It’s helped immensely by all she’s discovering as they pass through these places. It is hard to feel hard done by when you are seeing and learning such amazing things. Mostly, it’s the stories, and the unrecorded local history; Enid’s writing hand aches at the end of each day, but still she eagerly writes on. There’s just so much the world needs to hear! Most intriguing is the myths and legends – inn patrons and stable workers recounting the versions of these stories that have been passed down to them. The most reoccurring story is generally the same, with some mysterious figure of legend stopping an evil force, therefore allowing the land of Nevermore to flourish, but with a vaguely ominous warning that the evil will return. It seems silly in some respects – ancient heroes and demonic evils - but Enid is fascinated by how such a story has come to exist within the hearts and minds of everyone. She writes down each retelling, noting the slight differences. She hopes that with some time she can tie the whole legend together into a cohesive story with explained deviances. This is the kind of thing she had been yearning for the whole time she waited for this journey.

Though perhaps the most curious part of this journey so far has been her companion. Five days in and she and Wednesday have (much to Enid’s behest) barely even begun to know each other. Admittedly, Enid has been challenging the little knight, trying to push her buttons and see what makes her tick… but she’s impossible to figure out! It is evident that Wednesday cares not for this travelling, or Enid herself in fact – yet, she continues to be endlessly dutiful. It is perplexing to say the least. Enid feels a strange fondness for Wednesday, not that she would say as much. Though, she does wish it was shared. All she can drag out of the knight at the moment is sighs, glares, and the occasional unamused comment. She just wishes there was a modicum of excitement so she could share her passion.

Alas, Wednesday seems intent on not getting any closer. It’s mildly upsetting but Enid is determined to not let it hurt her too much… she already cares too greatly for her parents approval, so vying for Wednesday’s at the same time seems a little excessive. Not that she can help herself sometimes.

Like now. She and Wednesday are travelling through a rocky pass, uphill towards the lakes and rivers that are the source of all other water in the kingdom. It is the home of the sirens, and is their first major stop! Enid is practically bursting with excitement!! Even better, along the route there are small alcoves with huge carved tablets, recounting local history and even more legends to write down.

As they travel, Enid stops them along the way. She sketches the tablets and summarises their words with an upbeat fervour. Wednesday remains on her horse, keeping a look out, seeming entirely disengaged.

Enid turns to her and waves her hand. Wednesday glances over, raising an eyebrow as if to ask ‘what do you want?’. Enid then turns back to the tablet she is copying down, tapping her quill against the page of her notebook as she thinks. Wednesday might not care but Enid’s planning to talk, regardless.

“Do you believe in the legends?” Enid asks as she scribbles down some more words. “Seems amazing that everyone knows the story… like it can’t be coincidence.”

She turns back to Wednesday, seeing now that her raised brow has returned to a scowl. Wednesday thinks the question is ridiculous, certainly. Enid doesn’t see why. Considering the number of magical creatures and beings that exist within the kingdom, people believing in ancient legends doesn’t seem too far-fetched, even if the stories themselves are pretty separated from reality… Though, perhaps she is naive to think Wednesday would have any sort of belief that isn’t rooted logic and proof. Sigh. Enid would love some common ground.

“They’re just stories.” Wednesday replies, voice devoid of emotion. Enid knows she shouldn’t be disappointed by the answer… but she kind of still is. Any kind of thought, feeling, or opinion that places Wednesday outside of the dark little box she’s placed herself into would be extremely welcome, but she remains consistently stoic and unfeeling. Even if they’ve only known each other for five days, Enid feels as though she may never get to see anything else from the knight.

Enid knows she can’t let it get to her… So she returns to her notebook; keeps excitedly writing, and smiles to herself as she thinks upon the way her father would recount the ‘stories of old’ to her as a child.

“I think there’s some truth in them.” she muses as she walks closer and presses her hand against the carved rock of the tablet monument. The stone is cold to the touch, soothing the new callouses that have grown on Enid’s hands. It feels familiar under her hand, like the stone brick the royal castle is built from. It’s oddly comforting, and in a way, reaffirms Enid’s belief. The feeling of the stone connects her to home, as the words carved upon it connect her to history. There has to be truth in them – there just has to be! And there’s only more out there to learn. They need to get to the Siren's Domain and find out more. Enid quickly finishes writing, and returns to her horse.

“You ought to have more belief.” She chides as she takes the reigns from Wednesday and climbs onto Sol.

Wednesday simply looks at her, before slowly directing Nero to continue on the trail. Enid follows soon after, taking a final glance at the carved rock as it disappears from sight upon moving uphill. From then on they travel quietly but quickly; Enid decidedly keeping her excitement at bay. Though, it is hard the hide the grin that she finds sprawling across her face as the elegance of the Siren's Domain begins to appear.

Despite this being their first major stop, Enid cannot deny this is the one she’s looked most forward to. From the crystal clear waters, to the beautifully carved stonework that creates the buildings and platforms for visitors – The Siren's Domain is a treat for the eyes. Previously she had only seen it through paintings and sketches, so watching it come into view is beyond breathtaking. Oh, she cannot wait to meet and talk with the locals.

Enid glances at Wednesday. Her expression is unchanged, locked in her permanent scowl. Typical.

They draw closer, and Enid realises now she should probably face the reality of why she’s actually here. She’s been avoiding the truth since they set off, but with the domain in sight, she has to face the reality – the very reason she was allowed this adventure in the first place. Her werewolf powers... Or, more accurately, lack thereof.

As much as she wants to ignore the whole thing and simply travel, learn, and write to her hearts’ content… she has to uphold her duty. Which means at least fulfilling all the various tasks listed to her by her parents prior to setting off. She could - of course - simply not do them, but considering Wednesday’s loyalties, she suspects that it would be hard to hide upon their eventual return to the castle. Not to mention she may still lack her ability to shift and the shame that would bring is too embarrassing to even imagine… So really, she has little choice. Fortunately this first task seems simple - she needs to locate the royal pool and partake in a ritual with the ancient waters within Which seems easy enough. The siren royalty are amicable allies, so they should be more than welcoming.

Enid and Wednesday pass a few more tablet monuments during the final stretch of the journey. A mix of excited and concerned over what’s to come, Enid lets herself write down the engraved words slower than before, giving her time to mentally chew over it. It doesn’t seem difficult, but it weighs on her nonetheless…

Wednesday, unaware of this, seems particularly impatient now. She stares at the Siren's Domain in the distance with a subtle tension in her jaw. Her hands are tight around the reigns of her horse, eyes stuck on her one focal point in the distance. Enid wishes she could know what was going through her head… but she doubts she’d get an answer even if she did ask.

Enid finishes her notes and scrambles back onto her horse. She takes a deep breath and sets herself to continue.

“Are we ready?” She asks – mostly to herself, if anything.

Wednesday looks at her, eyes narrowing slightly. Right, of course… obviously, she is ready.

Fortunately, the last of the journey is short and it takes a little over ten minutes to exit the rocky pass and cross into the lightly forested clearing that leads into the lakes, waterfalls, and rivers that make up the domain. There’s a narrow but ornate bridge built of stone above the water that leads into the centre of the lake, allowing walking visitors to easily enter. It’s all rather elegant and reminds Enid of home… Though she’s unsure if that’s a good thing.

They leave their horses at the small stables before the bridge, and then start the journey on foot into the domain itself. It’s a difficult place to describe – though, this does not stop Enid trying. She pauses about midway on the bridge, scribbling again in her notebook, making sure to exaggerate her awe at both the craftsmanship of the domain and how fascinating it is to see sirens freely swimming through the waters. It’s amazing, getting to see them in their home!

Though it would seem the sentiment is not shared. Glancing behind her, it’s hard to not notice the distaste on Wednesday’s face. Surprisingly, it is different look from her regular scowl, but not by much.

“Not a fan of the Siren’s Domain?” Enid queries.

“I don’t trust sirens.” comes Wednesday’s blunt response.

Enid rolls her eyes. “You don’t trust anyone.”

She says it in a good natured tone, but the sharpening of Wednesday’s glare tells her that she’s best to not say any more. Not that it would change anything since Wednesday has no option to follow her anyway. “But the sirens here are nice. They’re our allies.”

Wednesday seems unconvinced, but keeps any snarky comment to herself. Good, as Enid wants to focus on enjoying her time before duty calls.

They traverse the bridge, approaching the small town of stone buildings that cover an island in the middle of the lake. Each building is unique in size and shape, some partially built into existing hills, others shaped as to allow easy passage back into the water. The buildings are beautiful and sophisticated, but practical – which makes sense, sirens are known for their air of elegance and very much care about keeping up appearances. Though, it also makes sense the number of buildings is relatively small, seeing as sirens much prefer the water.

When they finally enter, Enid feels excitement flutter in her chest; her minor angst melting against its warmth. They’re here! They’re finally here!! She gets to explore and talk to the locals, and try their dishes, and sleep in one of their strange water beds. Oh there’s just so many things she wants to do!

She takes a few steps into the town, taking it all in. This is definitely more thrilling than nerve-wracking. Enid grins, turning back to Wednesday.

“Isn’t it amazing here?”

Wednesday doesn’t answer; glancing away, she shoots a suspicious look at any sirens and other townsfolk that pass them. She then pulls out something from one of the pouches on her uniform – a neatly folded paper. Opening it, she reads briefly, her brow twitching ever so slightly. Then she slots it back away. Her eyes swivel back over. Then they dart to the building in the middle of the domain… tothe building that leads underground to the fountain that houses the ancient waters. Without another word, she begins to march over.

Of course. Her parents gave Wednesday a list. Suddenly, Enid isn’t so excited any more.

“Wednesday!” Enid calls out as she follows after her. “Hey, let’s no-”

Wednesday stops and turns back, one eyebrow quirked upwards. Her head tilts slightly as if warning Enid to not test her.

Enid, however, does not appreciate this attempt to intimidate her. As knights go, Wednesday is definitely a little scary, but Enid knows better – knows they’re stuck together, and that ultimately, Wednesday can’t push her luck too far.

Enid takes a breath, then smiles.

“We’re not going to the ancient waters yet.”

A frustrated expression twitches onto Wednesday’s face, but it’s gone almost immediately. She opens her mouth, poised to release a scathing remark when-

“You must be Princess Enid.”

Enid is miraculously saved by the appearance of an unknown saviour. Turning to the doorway of the middle building, there now stands a proud looking siren with piercing pale eyes and dazzling dark skin that shimmers in the daylight. She smiles at Enid.

“And you must be-” the siren pauses upon looking at Wednesday, frowning slightly as her eyes drag up and down the knight’s form. “Wednesday, was it? The Prince Consort did send a letter.”

It dawns on Enid now who their new friend is, and whilst it is not unwelcome company, it is – to put it lightly – an inconvenient meeting. The person standing before them is Bianca. Enid recognises her from a portrait that hangs in the meeting room of the castle. She is essentially the princess of the Siren’s Domain, though, the actual siren term is different and escapes Enid’s memory. Unfortunately, with Bianca here it means she is now truly is stuck committing to the ritual, lest she wish to upset the schedule of the siren royalty… and considering their ally ties, and general etiquette, Enid very much does wish to cause an issue. The disgrace alone would measure up to the disgrace brought on by Enid not doing the ritual in the first place. Ugh. Sometimes Enid wishes there wasn’t so many rules. So much for the excitement, after all… it will have to wait. Just like all her dreams do.

Enid pulls her smile wider and does a slight curtsey.

“Bianca, heir to the siren throne,” She acknowledges. “It is a pleasure to finally meet.”

Wednesday does not curtsey despite a subtle nudge. Enid notices that Wednesday’s jaw is tensing, metaphorically chewing on those words she was unable to say.

“An honour.” She says stiffly. It seems Wednesday did not intend to speak to Bianca herself, and her distaste is as subtle as a rock through glass.

Considering her attitude, Enid doesn’t think Wednesday deserves much mercy, but she’s willing to offer it so that no one ends up on the wrong end of a blade – of which she knows Wednesday has many.

“Wednesday,” Enid chimes sweetly. “Could you get our rooms prepared at the inn? I’ll be perfectly safe with Bianca here.”

Wednesday looks at Enid; blinks once, then twice. There’s an air of suspicion in her glance, but seemingly an unwillingness to question a free reason to disengage. She nods, shuffling her sword and gear, before heading towards the inn.

Bianca watches Wednesday walk off with a tight smile.

“She seems… interesting.”

“Interesting is the right word,” Enid agrees.

“So then,” Bianca continues, clasping her hands together. “I hear you’re partaking in one of our ancient water rituals for your werewolf powers, correct?”

Enid feels her stomach tighten at the mention. It really does feel too soon… she hasn’t gotten to witness enough yet! Why can’t she just have some fun before getting down to business?!

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it.” She lies.

The conversation that follows is a whirlwind of information that Enid barely has time to process. It feels like a history lesson at first – things Enid has heard during her school studies as a child, before it leads into a more personal tale, that recounts how her family and Bianca’s came to be allies. All the while Bianca takes her on a small loop of the domain. Unfortunately, with there being no stops in this quick tour, Enid does not have even a moment to get personal enjoyment… instead, she feels ferried around and paraded; very much the opposite of what she had wanted out of all of this. It is however mercifully short, and she and Bianca end up back at the entrance of the middle building not much time later. The efficiency is almost ruthless, though it is reflective of what she expected from a high ranking siren such as Bianca. Perhaps she would respect it more if the circumstances were different.

Regardless, it seems as though the time for the water ritual to begin is soon to be upon her.

Enid smiles as much as she can, despite the way her heart falters. She knows she’ll have some time later but it certainly feels as though – even with this being her adventure – somehow her parents and her ‘duty’ still find ways to surpass her own wants.

“Well… are you ready?” Bianca asks. She extends her hand towards the doorway, inviting Enid inside.

Ah well. Better just grin and bare it. It’ll be just fine.

Enid pulls a smile onto her face.

“Of course.”

She takes one last look around before heading inside, knowing it’ll be a couple hours at the least until she emerges again. The ancient water ritual culminates in bathing, but there’s some other important steps prior – changing into the ritual clothing, some minor ‘soul opening’ magic, etc. It’s quite the process so she’s heard. Hopefully it will not be boring, at least.

As she takes one final glance around, Enid notices something. A pair of eyes trained on her. Intense; unwavering, and locked in a glare that feels like a promise… Of what, exactly? Enid isn’t sure. Protection, maybe. She cannot help feel struck by the way Wednesday watches her like a hawk, vigilant despite being told she doesn’t need to be…

How strange…

But with no time to think on it, the moment passes. Enid’s eyes pull away from Wednesday’s, and the knight is all but forgotten as Enid is lead away to fulfil her duties.

[whumpsday]

K&J x MMSS 2: Valen & Liz Part 1

Kane & Jim masterlist / Magnanimous Moonrise & Savage Sunset masterlist

content: starvation, blood, nonconsensual restraint, muzzle/gag, aftermath of torture, misgendering a nonbinary character (non-malicious), mentions of rape/noncon, rescue, recovery, vampire whumpee

Note: This is NOT a continuation of the first KJ x MMSS crossover.

Set after K&J #39: Heat Wave Part 2 and after/diverges from 6M/6S

me and @not-a-space-alien are back with another collab!! part 2 will be posted tomorrow! nasa did pretty much all the editing on this one, so huge thanks to them!!

also: i included the taglists for both stories in the first crossover bc i thought it would be a one-and-done thing, but it’s looking like we’re gonna be putting out a bunch of stuff. as such, i will be including the taglists on this and the second part tomorrow as well, but if you’d like to continue being tagged in crossover pieces, please comment saying so in order to remain on the taglist! it’s opt-in! and as the next crossover will be 18+, please be 18+ to enter the taglist for that.

-

Liz hasn't been able to stop thinking about the vampire since she heard about him.

Valen Kithrara. If any vampires deserved to get what's coming to them, it's the Kithrara family. But Kane… Kane's a horrible person, too. He took away the only family she had left, methodically destroyed Jim's spirit until he was a paranoid, crying mess who took years to build himself back up. An abusive piece of shit who by all accounts deserves to die. And yet, as much as she hates to admit it, as much as she hates him, she can't help but feel bad for the guy. She even let him stay in her house for a few days during that heat wave fiasco last month, so it's safe to say they're fine now, she guesses.

If she can be fine with her brother's abuser who she still fucking hates, she can stop this random vampire she doesn't even know from being tortured, no matter what he'd done.

She's going to kill Valen Kithrara. Put the guy out of his misery. In and out, that's the plan. No more fucked up torture, especially when the person she heard about it from said he heard that all the useful “experiments” had been done months ago and it was basically just senseless at this point. She was able to get ahold of the schedule of that base, and it's supposed to be empty tonight. In and out.

When she gets there, she curses under her breath. There's a car out front. Someone's still here. No one's supposed to be here, but then again, neither is she.

She knocks on the door.

Nick answers. He's breathing slightly heavily, and looks caught off guard. "Er, can I help you?"

Oh, this guy is definitely hiding something. Perfect. All Liz has to do is get him to let her down there and she can stake the vampire. He won't want to admit he was even here, and if he does, she can just say the vampire attacked her. It'd be her word against his. "Hey, I'm Beth. I'm from a different branch a few hours out. I happened to be in town, and remembered hearing you guys have a live vampire here. I'm toootally interested in the experiments you're running. I gotta get going tonight, but I figured I'd swing by to take a look if that's okay, see what your setup is so maybe we can get some research going back in my county," she bullshits, giving him a friendly smile.

Nick narrows his eyes. "Are you on duty? Where is your hunting partner?"

"Nah, not on duty. Definitely don't do that shit alone." She laughs. God, she hadn't even told Laken she was doing this. She'll tell them after. "Just in town for personal business. Why, you guys understaffed and want me to pick up a shift?”

Nick blinks at her. "No, nothing like that. You may look, as long as you don't touch anything. I will warn you safely keeping a vampire in a setup like this involves a fair amount of homemade equipment. I made it all myself. I would be happy to share the blueprints with you if you have someone with the technical know-how to recreate them." He opens the door and lets her in, walking to the basement and unlocking the door.

"Cool, thanks!" Liz forces herself to sound enthusiastic, despite knowing she's about to see something truly awful, and follows him inside. What awaits her is something out of a horror movie. The room is filled with torture devices, and Valen himself- god, he looks even worse than Kane did, and completely terrified.

It's at that moment she realizes that she won't be able to do it. On the job, she kills strong vampires who fight her back. She can't bring herself to kill someone so utterly helpless and scared. Which means everything is suddenly a lot more complicated.

"So, what's that thing you've got it locked up in?" she asks.

Nick sits on the lid of the coffin, near Valen's feet. Valen begins to sob, titling his head to make eye contact with Liz. He can't speak, but the message is clear enough from the big, watery eyes. Please, please please please. "It's a shell of silver-core bars coated with iron, with internal restraints. We call it the coffin. The director insists that safety is our topmost priority, but this satisfies even him to know that this vampire isn't going anywhere. It would have to break through two layers of silver restraints, then remove the muzzle on its face before being able to use persuasion. And as a precaution, we never open the coffin unless at least two people are present."

"Well, shit, we've got two people here right now. I could spot you if you wanted to try anything out." The gossip she'd heard included that the guy doing the experiments could hardly even find anyone to go with him anymore because everyone was sick of his shit. "I'd love to see your work in action and everything, if you've got the time."

Nick stares at her. "Please show me your credentials. I could be fired if I didn't ensure the second party was qualified to supervise."

"Of course, yeah." Liz fishes out her hunting license. Elizabeth Lieberman, it reads. She's glad she chose an alias that works with her ID, but with the way her plan is evolving, she's becoming less sure whatever secret reason he's here right now would be enough to keep him from reporting her when she does what she's about to do. But she can't leave this guy here, she can't. She'll just have to figure it out. Get people to cover for her. "I don't think I ever got your name, by the way?"

"Nicholas." He examines the ID and apparently finds it to his satisfaction. He then gives it back, and walks over to the furnace, lighting it and setting the stoneware cup of silver in it to melt. This prompts a fresh round of sobbing from Valen, and him writhing inside the cage, but the device is too heavy for it to even shake under his thrashing.

Nick comes back and sits on the coffin again, crossing his legs. "Elizabeth Lieberman? It's nice to meet you. I don't suppose you're related to Jim Lieberman?"

"Nice to meet you too. Yeah, he's my brother. Got an apprenticeship a couple months after he got taken, started hunting the second I turned 18, never looked back." It's easier to say something genuine than lie through her teeth. What the fuck, is this guy gonna pour silver on him? Why? It's not like hunters could carry around molten silver. "How'd you get into it?"

"Interesting. I've always been fascinated by Jim's story. The two of you are very strong." Nick pulls down his shirt collar to reveal the scars from fang marks on the side of his neck. "I relate to Jim's story on a personal level. That is what got me into hunting." He releases the shirt. "I'm not a proper hunter, though. I don't have a hunting partner. I'm simply an affiliate of the guild. I do research and support."

Liz figured. The guy isn't built like a hunter. She's trained for this work half her life, and it shows. She knows she can take him easily. Hearing his story makes her feel wildly guilty about that, though. God, if he's been through what Jim's been through… well, if she does this right, he won't even know what hit him until he wakes up with a bad headache. And she can't just leave this vampire here.

"Congrats on getting out. That takes guts." She means it. She guesses that's the kind of thing that could drive someone to… this. "I think your silver might be done."

Nick smiles widely. "Thank you. Jim's book mentioned how much you two missed each other. I imagine you must feel the same hatred towards vampires as I do. As many of us do. If you'd like to assist, typically I have someone handle the vampire while I handle the equipment." He hands her a key, then he walks over to the furnace and holds the long metal tongs with the glowing silver on the end. "All you need to do is hold it still on the ground. Kneeling on the shoulders usually works well."

Liz stuffs the key in her pocket, grabs the stake off her belt, and slams the blunt end into the side of his head while he's turned around. She grabs him as he falls, making sure the molten silver that clatters to the floor doesn't get on him. "Sorry, Nicholas," she says softly, setting him down in the chair in front of the desk.

She re-sheathes her stake, pulls out the key, and approaches Valen. "Hey, buddy. Let's get you outta this mess." She unlocks the coffin, undoes the restraints, and helps him out of it.

Valen watches her approach the coffin through a haze. He'd been mentally preparing for more torture, and now this muscular, god-like woman had attacked his abuser, and is now approaching him like an angel descending with kind words. This is a dream, right? Was this really happening?

He is completely limp in her hands, in a daze. His cheeks are flushed. As soon as her hands are on him, he decides he's a little bit in love with her.

Liz decides to leave the cuffs on, and obviously the muzzle is staying. This isn't Kane. The collar won't come off on its own, so she checks Nicholas's pocket and finds his keys. After a couple tries, she finds the right one, leaving it inside the coffin before closing the lid. "Bet that's better, huh? C'mon, my truck's just outside. Let's get you up the stairs." It's obvious that Valen can't move that well on his own, and she supports him as they make their way up.

Before they leave the base, she stops. "Valen, right? Okay, a couple ground rules. I'm helping you because torture is fucked up, but I'm still a hunter. I will kill you if you give me a reason to. No attacking, no trying to take that off-" Liz points to his muzzle. "No trying to run off. Not that you really can right now, but that'll change. You don't hurt me and I won't hurt you. Sound good?"

Valen is so overwhelmed by what's happening. He'd just been sitting there, being subjected to another of Nick's night visits, when this hunter strides in and upends everything all at once. It’s different, and that scares him, a lot. He has no idea who this person is, or what they’re going to do to him, but… She said torture is fucked up. So it could be good. Maybe this was over? His brain refuses to register it. It feels like he’s wading through molasses trying to figure out what he should be feeling. His usual internal stream of pleas has been completely silenced by how suddenly everything had pivoted. He's never even seen this hunter before. The muzzle is staying on, so obviously things weren't going to be too good, but…

Cheeks still rosy, eyes wide with fear and hope, he nods silently.

"Good." Liz takes him to the truck, trying to decide on the best place for him. It would be a lot better if she had a trunk, but her only options are the passenger seat, the backseat, or the bed. The first two left her vulnerable to attack- Valen would lose, but she would be driving and that was dangerous as shit. The bed left him wide-open for escape.

She considers going back and getting the coffin, for a moment, but… instead, she sighs and just loads him into the passenger seat and buckles him in. He really doesn't seem like he'll attack. "There we go," she says, before climbing into the driver's seat. "Name's Liz, by the way. I live about three hours away, so get comfortable. And hey: you're out. Take a minute to celebrate it." She gives him a smile and a pat on the shoulder before getting on the road.

You're out. Is that what's happening? It must be, right? Valen lets his head lean into the window, bonking against the glass. He's out. He's away from Nick. He's away from Nick. He starts to cry softly with relief. He's still a prisoner, it's not over, but this seems like it's going to be better. He can hope for that. Maybe it's a lie, he has no reason to trust this person, but she is the first one to say what's happening to him is fucked up and do something to put a stop to it. But where is she taking him…? To her house?

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches her strong-looking hands on the steering wheel and working the gear-shift. He keeps replaying in his mind over and over the sensation of her lifting him up, helping him up the stairs, touching him gently to get him up into the seat and buckle him in. What can I do to make you want to protect me? Anxiety creeps over him.

Liz isn't very talkative on the drive home. She's a little on-edge with a vampire just sitting right next to her while she's driving after having fought so many, and keeps glancing at Valen to make sure he's still chill. She calms down once they finally get to her house. She's glad the timing is good- it's late at night, and no one is out, especially not in a town so close to vampire territory, so no one can see her taking a vampire into her house.

"Alright, we're home." She helps Valen into the house, sitting him on her couch. "I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting to take a vampire home tonight, so I'm a little unprepared. Looks like you need… a bath, some clothes, and a meal, for starters." She reaches toward his face. "Not gonna hurt you, just checking out that muzzle," she warns. This isn't Liz's first rodeo, and she's assuming Valen must be at least as jumpy as Jim was when he first came home. The more assurances, the better. She grabs his chin and tilts his head a little, getting a good look of the thing. It doesn't seem locked, which is a major safety hazard she'd have to fix. He wouldn't be able to drink normally with it on, but… "Yeah, I can probably get a straw in there."

Valen's eyes light up with delight when she says this. She's going to feed him? Really? That makes him a little nervous--feed him for what? Dare he believe just because she didn't want to see him starving? And a bath, and clothes… Things you would give a person, and not a piece of meat. It almost feels wrong. It almost feels too much to hope for. Silent tears dribble down his cheeks again, tears of relief. Maybe he could convince her to take the muzzle off. Maybe she wouldn't feel the need to keep him locked up so tight. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe he could be a person and not a piece of meat.

Fuck, he really does remind her of Jim at 24. "Hey, it's gonna be alright." Liz grabs a tissue from the box on the side table and hands it to him. 

He remembers tissues, a relic from an era when he could blow his nose. He takes the tissue and dabbles delicately at his eyes.

"Let's… okay. Blood first, probably. Hmm." She'd heard Jim tell her how Kane jumped on him when he got a papercut, so this guy definitely wouldn't be able to control himself. "I'm gonna have to tie you up first, just for this first time- maybe first few times- to make sure everything goes smoothly. Stay there, lemme work this out."

She's able to scour something along the lines of rope from her camping gear, winding it around his legs and torso firmly and tying it off where he can't reach. Even if he tried to lunge at her, he'd just end up on the floor. "I'll take that off after your dinner. Just try to relax. It'll be fine."

Valen whines softly as Liz approaches him with rope, and starts to sob as she ties him up. It's not painful, it's not even unpleasant except psychologically. More restraints, more tying, more barriers between him and being a person who talks and laughs and says please and thank you and I love you. She tells him to try to relax and it'll be fine, but he can't make his brain believe it. It won't be fine. It's never fine. It's always worse. Things had been getting better, and now they were getting worse again.

Liz passes through the doorway into the kitchen. She'll get a blood draw kit tomorrow, but this will have to do for now. She cuts into her arm, bleeding into a cup.

As soon as the blood is outside of Liz's body, Valen does exactly as she'd predicted, lunging and ending up on the floor. His eyes are wild and predatory, nostrils flaring, and his cuffed hands gouge the floor, raking his claws in an attempt to drag himself forward, growling savagely.

Liz glances back, seeing Valen worming around on the floor. It must be awful to be that desperate for food. She fills about half a cup, which takes longer than she thought it would, before bandaging her arm- first with gauze, then with plastic wrap, to hopefully control the smell a little bit. She hopes Valen is able to control himself a little more after he's finished this. She grabs a straw and heads back to the vampire.

"Valen." He barely seems to hear her. Liz grabs him by the bound wrists to make sure she won't get scratched and pulls him up into a sitting position. She straddles his legs to keep him from moving around so much, then sticks the straw through the muzzle and into his mouth as he strains for the cup. "Fuck, finally. Drink up."

As soon as the straw is in his mouth it's like he's a completely different animal. He sucks and the blood rushes into his mouth, warm and wet. His face instantly loosens into a placid expression, eyelids heavy, lost in the sensation. His eyes flicker to Liz, straddling him. Oh hello, where did you come from, big angel? Thank you. Thank you. He feels the blood warming his frigid insides as it goes down his throat. Thank you. Thank you.

The blood is gone far too fast. The straw wheezes emptily against the dredges at the bottom, Valen still sucking, refusing to admit he's finished.

"Yeah, I get that's probably not enough. Here, lemme turn it around so you can get at the bottom of the straw." Liz pulls the straw from Valen's mouth, flips it, and sticks the blood-covered end back in. After it looks like he's done, she pulls it back out, getting off of him. "I know it sucks, but that's all I've got for you right now. I'll get you more tomorrow."

When Liz lets him lick the straw to get a little extra, he almost starts crying again. She's putting so much thought into his comfort it's almost too much to bear. Ideally he'd like to be allowed to lick the bottom of the cup as well, but he knows why Liz won't let him do that. Please take the muzzle off. I promise it'll be fine. He's starting to have the thought with increasing certainty. Before, back with Nick, he knew for a fact that the second anyone took the muzzle off he'd be using persuasion instantly to try and save himself, but…the urgency to do that was starting to fade, here. Maybe he didn't need to. Maybe they could just have a normal conversation. It’s too good to be true, of course, but it’s a nice thought.

Liz rinses the cup, then returns to untie Valen, helping him off the floor. "Alright. Bathtime, pajamas, then bed. We'll figure the rest out tomorrow. You'll be okay." She helps him upstairs, into her parents' old room. There's a queen-size bed, a bunch of boxes (as she uses it for storage), and an attached bathroom. "This is gonna be your bedroom and your bathroom. I'll get all the boxes and shit out of here at some point this week." She continues helping him to the bathroom.

When she takes him upstairs, he starts to feel a little anxious again as Liz takes him into a bedroom. But Liz is a woman. Even if she did that, it probably wouldn't hurt. It probably wouldn't even be unpleasant. Maybe he would even like it. He thinks about it for a little longer than he probably should, before he realizes what she is saying. Oh, he's getting a bedroom, and a bathroom, and pajamas. That's good, right? He wants that. He starts to bounce a little with excitement. He's getting amenities. Maybe this is okay.

Liz starts filling the tub with warm water, then gestures to Valen's boxers. "You want me to help you get those off, you wanna do it yourself, or you wanna leave 'em on?" She holds up a new finger with each option, indicating for him to do the same to pick which he wants.

He's going to get a bath, but oh, he has to pass the trial of making a decision first. At this point he couldn't care less about his boxers. He has no modesty left, no dignity to scrape up to try and save. He holds up one finger, to ask her to do it, then immediately feels anxious about if that was the wrong thing to do.

"Alrighty, here we go." Liz helps Valen get the boxers off, then helps him into the tub. The cuffs and muzzle are still on, since Liz is afraid he'll take the muzzle off if his hands are free. "I know leaving the cuffs on isn't ideal, but I gotta look out for my own safety too. We just met and all. I promise I'll figure out something better tomorrow, you'll get your hands free. I'll help you get cleaned up for today, though."

She washes his hair and body, trying to be mindful of any injuries, making sure to get under the cuffs and muzzle too. At one point, she presses the washcloth into his hands so he can wash anything below the belt himself.  She has to prompt him to do his own washing a few times before he has the wherewithal to do anything for himself.

After, she helps him into a set of pretty basic pajamas- she does unlock the cuffs briefly so she can get the shirt on, but they go right back on after. "Sorry, I know. It's temporary."

Valen leans into her touches, and at whatever point it's feasible, he leans into her, face into her shoulder, sighing contentedly, clinging to her with his bound hands if she allows it. It's probably pathetic. But he wants to say thank you, and he can't, and it's really, really disappointing when the cuffs don't stay off, but he feels cared for in a way he hasn't in a long time. Not safe, but safer. 

The pajamas are nice--any fabric would be a little scratchy against his injuries, but they're soft and warm, neither of which are anything he's gotten to experience in a while. He sits on the bed, feeling acutely the stark clash between the comforting, gentle pajamas and the hard metal cuffs just a few inches above the sleeves at his wrists.

God, he absolutely breaks Liz's heart. Before sending Valen to bed, she gives him a hug, now reasonably certain he'd want that. He seems desperate for any kind of gentle touch. “It's gonna be alright. It's over. No one's gonna hurt you here." She really feels like she's 20 all over again.

He really, really wants to believe her words. Maybe it's a lie, but for now, in this moment, it's true, and that helps him carry on for a little while.

When Liz leaves him alone to go to bed, he lies down in the luxurious softness of a real bed, but finds to his horror he can't sleep. He's out in the open. That means danger. This is horrible because he starts to realize the solution would be to be shut back in the coffin, which he would hate more than anything, but it's been his only rest and safety for months, training his brain to equate a narrow, enclosed space with sleep and safety.

But he's so tired he wants to cry. Is there anything he could do to possibly recreate this sensation? A weighted blanket maybe? There's nothing. The bathtub? The underside of the bed looks tall enough for him to squeeze under, but he doesn't want to leave the softness and warmth of the blankets.

Whimpering, he pulls the comforter off the bed and wraps himself up in it as best as he can, steps onto the floor, and kneels down, jamming himself under the bed and wriggling forward until most of his body is under it. He almost hopes it doesn't work because this is a less than ideal sleeping position, but he does eventually fall asleep.

Liz calls Laken until they wake up and pick up the phone, confesses everything, and tells them to cover for her. Laken is completely on board, and she goes to sleep too, knowing that Nicholas's "a hunter a 3 hour drive away came to steal my vampire for no apparent reason" story will likely not hold up against her "I was literally home all night and I've got people backing that up," especially when he's the one with head trauma and there's no evidence she was there.

The next day, Liz goes to check on Valen, only to find him missing. "Fuck! Where the hell did he go?!"

Valen is awoken by Liz's startled exclamation. Oh no, she thinks I ran off. He starts wriggling forward, but finds he's a little bit stuck. He grips the carpet fiercely and drags himself forward a little, getting his head and shoulders out from under the bed, letting out muffled exclamations to let her know where he is.

Liz rubs the sleepiness out of her eyes with a sigh of relief. "Oh. You do that too, huh?" At least he's coming out on his own, not needing to be coaxed out like Jim did.

You do that too, huh? Did……did Liz sleep under her bed? Why on earth would she do that?

She pulls him the rest of the way out. "Alright, game plan for today. I've gotta go do some shopping, I've got a friend coming over while I'm out. They're gonna feed you, too. After I get back, we'll get those cuffs off, sound good?"

Someone is coming over while Liz is out. That makes him nervous, but excited because they're going to feed him. He wants to ask if it'll be a man or a woman. Liz had said they. Was it just one friend or multiple friends? Realistically it won't really make much difference the gender of the person, or people, but it will let him know how nervous to feel, being alone in the house with someone new in this state. He decides to assume it'll be a man, this way he'll be pleasantly surprised instead of caught off guard if he's wrong, but immediately regrets it, beginning to shake with nerves.

They're coming over to feed you, not hurt you. Calm the fuck down.

But what if they didn't just feed him? Liz was taking the cuffs off, not the muzzle. He's still stuck having no way to tell anyone if something is wrong.

Still, he nods with enthusiasm at the prospect of the cuffs coming off.

Liz takes Valen down to the living room couch, and Laken arrives shortly after. "Hey!" they greet cheerily. "Jesus Christ, you look like you've been through the wringer. What's up, I'm Laken." They hold out a hand for Valen to potentially shake.

"He can't even answer that." Liz points out.

Oh, it's a man. Great. Awesome. Valen dies inside, ready to lie down and take whatever was going to happen to him as soon as Liz leaves. It was obvious Valen wouldn't be able to do anything about it, either resist in the moment or tell on him afterwards.

Valen's countenance shifts visibly and immediately, shoulders drooping. He starts to hold out a hand to shake Laken's, but thinks better of it halfway through and retracts. Maybe if he wasn't overly friendly, or tried to be standoffish or aggressive, he could at least put it off for a while, maybe until Liz got home if Laken didn't pay attention to the time. But then again, maybe Laken was one of those men who liked it better when you tried to push them away. He couldn't know.

Or maybe he's just a normal fucking person. Not everyone is a sadist like Nick.

But he has the opportunity.

That doesn't mean he's going to take it.

He has no reason not to, though. Well…Laken has an interesting hair color. That's nice, at least.

"That's cool." Laken says easily, retracting their hand. "No pressure, man."

"This is Valen." Liz introduces him, since Valen can't. "He's really scared right now, so try not to be too much." She grabs a thick clothing catalog off the coffee table and hands it to them. "Have him pick out what he likes from here, but don't let him write."

"You got it, boss. Blood stuff in the kitchen?" Laken asks.

"Yeah." She looks back at Valen apologetically. "Sorry. Laken's nice, okay? They're not gonna hurt you either. I'll be back in a few hours."

Apparently they're clothes shopping. Exactly how long does Liz plan to keep him here? She's made no mention of removing the muzzle. Does she plan to just have him live here forever, indefinitely muted? The fact that he is apparently going to receive clothes almost makes him feel good, but he just feels nervous instead. He can't make sense of the implications. Did they intend to just have a pet vampire in the upstairs bedroom? Chills go up his spine. Were they going to do other kinds of experiments on him? Surely not, right? She said she wouldn't torture him…

She'd said she wouldn't. Why would he believe her? Why would he believe any of it?

Still, when Liz leaves, he shuffles forward and reaches a hand out, as though to try and grab her to stop her from leaving.

Laken's nice. They're not gonna hurt you either. There's the they again. Laken must be nonbinary. He'd heard of such a thing in passing, mostly in the context of people around him crucifying it as ridiculous and juvenile. He'd secretly found it intriguing, but it doesn't put him at ease. A nonbinary man can still hurt him.

Liz leaves, and Laken claps their hands together, discarding the catalog back to the table for now. "How about breakfast first?"

And then they're alone. Valen's resolve comes back. I'm not stupid. I know you're probably lying. Don't treat me like I'm stupid. He wants to be fed, very much so, but he doesn't trust Laken, and he doesn't want to let Laken see how desperate and scared he is. He remains silent.

Laken shrugs. "Kay, we'll just go with that, then. You think you'll be able to be chill while I get my blood in a cup, or you need some help? Liz told me on the phone to tie you up 'cause you're still getting your juice back, but if you wanna give it a try without, hey, it's cool. Oh, uh, nod for rope, shake your head for nope."

Absolutely not. Valen feels like he would probably die if Laken tied him up. He's not as desperately hungry as he was yesterday, so maybe he'll be able to not lunge? But it was only one feeding…

No, he can't be tied up, absolutely not. He shakes his head frantically. He would rather suffer whatever consequences come from accidentally lunging than be tied up.

“Okay, cool. Let's get this ball rolling, then." Laken smiles at him, then goes to the kitchen and slices their arm to bleed into the cup.

Valen is able to resist a little bit this time, but after a few seconds the smell is too much. I need it RIGHT NOW I NEED IT GIVE IT.

He tries to stop and pull himself back, though, so he just sort of ends up bumping into Laken from behind.

"Oh, hey. It's gonna take a couple minutes, I think." Laken firmly holds Valen away at arm's length with their free arm. "Good to know I'm delicious, though."

Valen blinks at them. Well… That could have gone a lot worse. He wrenches himself away from Laken, chuffing air from his mouth and nostrils aggressively, still feeling threatened and vulnerable, trying to seem dangerous and prepared. He shuffles backwards and takes a seat on the couch.

Laken finishes preparing the blood, bandages themself, and sets Valen up with the straw, murmuring about how "You really seem like you need to smoke some pot. It's so sad vampires can't do that." They turn the straw around for him to lick the bottom too, citing "Liz told me this was a good last step."

Valen snatches the cup from Laken and clutches it to himself, glaring at Laken as he sips it. When Laken puts their hand near Valen, even for something obviously to help, he lets out a low warning growl like a dog.

When he's all done, they get the catalog back out, and a pen, handing both to Valen. "You can go through this and pick out whatever."

Valen’s heart pounds. Does Laken not realize that Valen can use persuasion through writing?  He’s being handed a pen.  He hasn’t had an opportunity like this in so long. His brain twists into anxious knots trying to figure out how to handle this.

Laken does not, in fact, realize. They open the book up to the first page for him.

Valen is suddenly conflicted. Should he try to escape now? Would that make things worse? They're being kind to him, but…

What is he thinking? He has to get out of here. It doesn't matter how nice they are, they're still keeping him captive. They can still do whatever they want to him. He's still at their mercy. This is probably all just to lull him into being complacent. His mind races. Oh no, he has to make a decision.

He takes the pen and starts to write a command, but to his horror his disused hands can't scrape together the dexterity to get it right on the first try, and he ends up producing some chicken scratch before fumbling and dropping the pen.

He lets out a whine and cringes, looking at Laken through his eyebrows.

"Hey." Laken snatches the pen up, suddenly serious. "I know it sucks you can't say anything, but you know why we can't let you, even if you seem like a nice enough guy. No writing, bud."

That…. also could have gone a lot worse. Laken is being remarkably patient. But Valen still has a hard time suppressing the instinctual fear welling inside him.

He takes the catalog, still bracing for retaliation. When none comes, he turns his eyes downward and points to a black turtleneck sweater.

Laken notices the increase in fear. "I get it, dude. You're just trying to survive, I'd probably do the same if I was you. Listen, I won't even tell Liz. We're cool." They circle the sweater.

Maybe Laken is okay. Maybe. He wants to believe it.

Valen goes through the catalog and picks out all the most expensive things. He doesn't realize until afterwards what he's done, but living among the nobility allowed him to develop expensive tastes. It was frustrating because if he could get back to his house, he still had a lot of money and jewelry he'd take from the Kithrara estate, which he could offer to buy the clothes he actually wanted--of course, in that case, he wouldn't need to be buying new ones.

These are the ones he wants though, he'd just done an honest assessment of the catalog for the kinds of things he'd typically wear. Lots of black tops with long sleeves, dark, tight pants, a long, heavy jacket with a hood. He'd even found a studded leather belt and knee-high boots. Which, unfortunately, cost almost $200, so he figured that was one of the more outlandish asks. He colors a little with embarrassment at his selection.

"Damn, you and Lizzie really are two peas in a pod. Maybe she'll give you one of her leather jackets. Dunno if she's gonna go for those boots, but since you can't, I'll argue on your behalf." Laken gives him a wink. "She'll totally cave. Oh, and, hey. You're trans too, right? You want binders or something?"

Valen looks up at Laken sharply, hardly able to believe what he’s hearing. He tears up instantly. He'd never in a million years thought he'd be able to get that at all, let alone without having to ask and plead for it. His wet eyes sparkle with newfound appreciation, and he nods. Okay, Laken is all right. He leans into them, grabbing their shirt.

But…. something still doesn't feel right. How are they going to care about details like this, and validating him, yet still deny him the very basic ability to advocate for himself? To communicate with them as an equal? Were they just buying him nice things like one would buy toys for their dog?

He looks up at Laken pleadingly and slowly points to the muzzle, hopeful inquisition on his face.

Laken sighs. "I can't. Look, I'll talk to Liz about it, alright? Like, honestly, I doubt she'll keep you here forever, so that'd definitely come off. She's probably gonna let you go. She's just paranoid, y'know? Her brother was held captive for years by-" They suddenly grin. "Ooh, I just got the best idea. I know someone you can talk to risk-free."

Uh-oh, it sounds like Laken is saying Liz's brother was held captive by a vampire. Talking with a vampire also had no risk because they were unaffected by persuasion. But his hackles raise defensively once again at the mention of a third unknown party, this one being a vampire. He tended to assume the worst of vampires, a trait he shared with humans--the assumptions were usually not that far off. But… This one was friends with humans, so they couldn't be that bad. Right? Unless they weren't actually friends, but another captive? Were they just going to be put together for a play date? But Laken had said Liz probably wouldn't keep him here forever, so…? He looks at Laken anxiously. He knows he can't really do anything about anything, but he trusts Laken, a little bit.

"Oh, this is such a good idea. I'm a genius." Laken enthuses, oblivious to Valen's anxiety.

Liz gets home soon enough. "Hey! Everything go okay while I was gone?"

"Super smooth." Laken agrees. "Didn't even use the rope for the blood stuff."

Liz flicks them on the forehead. "Stop taking risks." She unpacks the contents of her shopping: a blood draw kit, a small padlock, and these:

"This way we've got more than just yes and no," Liz explains. "They're not all relevant, like, the yes and no cards are redundant and we don't need hungry and thirsty, but at least you can tell me if you're hurt or something this way. I know it's for kids, but I figured it'd help."

"I actually thought of-" Laken starts.

"And if I put this on the muzzle, we can take the cuffs off." Liz grabs the padlock.

Valen is excited by her haul at first--a blood draw kit means feeding him will be easier, and these cute little cards bode well for his ability to communicate more complex things--he eyes the I want to go home card longingly.

But then she pulls out the lock, and Valen's stomach drops out from under him. No, no, no, please. She's said it as though it were a positive thing, to remove the cuffs, but it looks like a step backwards, definitely a step backwards. As it was now, anyone could take the muzzle off. With this, only Liz could take the muzzle off, or whoever she gave the key to. A key, almost a symbol of ownership as well as from the practical standpoint--if someone lost the key, or something happened to Liz, he would just be out of luck. It forced him to be completely dependent on her and at her mercy in a new and scary way. And if this was her solution, how long was she planning to keep feeding him? Because if the current rate of feeding kept up, he'd be able to break any padlock that wasn't silver fairly quickly. Were they going to stop feeding him? But Laken had said she probably wasn't going to keep him here forever, and would let him go. That was too good to be true, of course, but maybe- They kept telling him things that would make him feel better if they were true, but then doing things that were moving in the opposite direction. If they were going to let him go, putting a lock on his most hated restraint was definitely the opposite of moving in that direction. As soon as Liz declares this will allow them to take the cuffs off, Valen crumples, tears slipping down his cheeks, holding his hands out as though she'd threatened to hit him.

"Oh, hey hey hey, it's okay." Liz takes a step back at his defensive gesture, wanting to give him space. "I thought it'd be good, I thought you'd want them off. Um." She slides the cards across the table to him. "Any of these relevant?"

He shuffles through the cards with shaking hands, trying to find one that says I'm a person and you're not treating me like a person and I don't know how to convince you I don't deserve this. There wasn't one, of course, so he picks out the card that says I am sad and puts it on the table.

"He wants the muzzle off." Laken frowns sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, Valen." Liz feels awful for him. She imagines if Jim came home after his ordeal and wasn't even allowed to speak. "I wanna help you, but I've gotta look out for myself too. And it's just too big a risk for us to talk. I really wanna talk to you too, but it's a safety issue."

"He could talk to Kane," Laken says.

"What? No."

"Why not?"

"Because he's horrible and I hate him." Liz glowers.

Valen shuffles through the cards again, his newfound tool. He quickly lays out I need help, I am hurt, I am hungry, I am tired and I want to go home all in a row, hoping that maybe physically seeing his smorgasbord of negative emotions laid out would impress upon them the extent of his distress.

Liz exhales slowly. "I'll draw you some more blood. You'll heal. I'm sorry. We don't have to use the lock if you don't want. I'm trying to help you as much as I can without compromising my own safety."

"Can't we just drop him off at the border when he can run again?" Laken asks. "He wants to go home." They point at the card.

"…He's a Kithrara," Liz says flatly.

"C'mon, look at him. Do you really think he's gonna come back to human territory after this?"

"I don't know. I can't risk human lives on that."

"Then let him talk to Kane so he can say something more than I am sad." Laken argues. "I know you hate the guy, but he's the only vampire we know, and you know he'd be willing to help."

Liz hesitates, then sighs. "Fine. For Valen. But I'm going to complain the entire time."

Laken smiles. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't."

"Fucking abusive piece of shit." Liz mutters under her breath as she goes to the phone and dials.

Valen clutches his cards to himself. He does kind of want the cuffs off, although he finds them far less distressing than the muzzle. I guess there's no option to get both off… He has a hard time choosing, so he just leaves it, fine with things staying as they are if that's what they choose. He can use his hands well enough to do most things he'd want to, although it's a little annoying.

Sigh…..but hearing humans yet again talk about how dangerous he is, and how he can't be set free for human safety makes him feel small and hopeless again. He's never going to be free of that suspicion, that assumed guilt. But…it sounds like they're going to talk to someone who might help, so maybe it's OK to hope a little bit. He tilts his head in preparation for trying to hear whoever is on the other end of the line during the phone call.

“Hey Liz, what's up?”

“I've kind of got…” She glances at Valen briefly, “A situation.”

“Are you okay?” Jim’s voice takes on a sense of urgency.

“Yeah, yeah I'm fine, just… okay, I'll come out with it. Your situation isn't that unique. I've got a vampire here and he's scared and hurt and I can't let him talk, obviously. So I was wondering if we could meet up with Kane tonight and have him interpret.” Liz blurts out all at once.

“…Wow.”

“I know, I know. You were right, okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, first of all, always am.” Jim gloats. “Second, whatever you need. I'll go let him know what's going on. Can it be here? I think going to your place again would make Kane nervous after last time, even if it'll be night this time.”

“Sure, yeah. Thanks. I’ll see you later, love you.” As much as Liz hates having to rely on Kane of all people, she’s glad this is going somewhere

“Love you too.”

Liz hangs up the phone. "Well, I guess this is really happening."

Laken claps excitedly. "Yay!"

I guess we're going somewhere tonight… Valen figures. He's a little disheartened that the implication from that conversation is that this second vampire is also a captive, same as him. How were they imagining this was going to go? Why was it safe for them to talk to this second vampire, but not Valen? Laken seems excited for it, and Liz seems to think this will be better than the current situation, so maybe it'll be okay. It's a nice thought, that things will work out.

"I'll go get you a second helping." Liz heads to the kitchen and begins drawing blood.

"It'll be okay." Laken tells Valen. "It's all gonna work out." They tap all the cards except I am sad and I want to go home. "We can fix all these easy." They tap I want to go home. "I'm sure we can work this out. The last card depends on you, I guess."

Liz comes out with a fresh cup of blood and hands it to him. He's calm this time. Laken's sitting and talking with him has calmed him down a little. He tries to keep remembering earlier, when Laken had cared enough about his feelings to get him a binder. And just having them acknowledge This sucks was helping, too. It wasn't That thing deserves it or It doesn't feel pain the same way we do, don't worry about it or It's worth it for the greater good.

And they're giving him a second helping of blood. That's so very generous. When Liz comes over and hands him the cup, he pokes the straw into the muzzle, cheeks rosy, sipping placidly like a toddler with a juicebox. Maybe this is OK.

When he's finished drinking, he inverts the straw himself and licks it, watching Liz and Laken tentatively. He wants to say thank you. Even though he's only been able to focus so far on what was still distressing him, he has so very much to be grateful for. His situation has improved immensely.

He flips through his cards trying to find one that matches his feelings, then blushes fiercely and puts down I love you.

"Aw!" Laken is delighted. "Love you too!"

Liz feels super fucking guilty now. "Yeah. Just trying to… make this as okay as possible for you. I know you've been through a lot." She gives him a side hug and collects the cup.

"I've gotta head out. Good luck tonight. And Lizzie, binders too." Laken says, gesturing to the catalog.

"Gotcha."

"It was nice to meet you, Valen!" Laken says. "And hey, don't worry about tonight. Liz's brother is a sweetheart, and it'll be good to talk."

Valen holds up the card that says Yes. Something about a cartoon of a thumbs up makes it feel closer to saying "Nice" than giving a real thumbs up. Nice to meet you, Laken. Please don't die. Humans die so easily.

Liz's brother worries him a little bit, even if he's supposedly a sweetheart. He was held captive by vampires, and so surely has no great love for them. And he's a man, which never bodes well. He does, in fact, worry about tonight despite Laken's plea not to.

-

reminder: i included the taglists for both stories in the first crossover bc i thought it would be a one-and-done thing, but it’s looking like we’re gonna be putting out a bunch of stuff. as such, i will be including the taglists on this and the second part tomorrow as well, but if you’d like to continue being tagged in crossover pieces, please comment saying so in order to remain on the taglist! it’s opt-in! and as the next crossover will be 18+, please be 18+ to enter the taglist for that.

taglist:

@annablogsposts​​

@cc1010foxy​​

@darlingwhump​​

@emcscared-whumps​​

@nicolepascaline​​

@oddsconvert​​

@pumpkin-spice-whump​​

@soursagas​​

@thecyrulik​​

@whump-cravings​​

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump​​

@whumpycries​​

@annablogsposts

@badluck990

@barebarb

@cc1010foxy

@ceph-the-writing-spook

@cicatrix-energy

@crying-wings

@crystalquartzwhump

@cupcakes-and-pain

@cyberneticfire

@darlingwhump

@deluxewhump

@down-in-the-whumps

@elrysdoesstuff

@emcscared-whumps

@extemporary-whump

@extrabitterbrain​

@iamtheshriekingguineapig​

@icyheart-and-friends​

@inpainandsuffering​

@interdimensional-chaos​

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast​

@lactose-intolerant-egg​

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps​

@littlespacecastle​

@little-whumpee

@lost-in-labradorite-halls​

@magziemakeswhatever​

@melancholy-in-the-morning​

@morning-star-whump​

@myhusbandsasemni​

@mylifeisonthebookshelf​

@neverthelass​

@nicolepascaline​

@nine-tailed-whump​

@no-terms-and-conditions-apply

@not-a-space-alien​

@nyooom​

@octopus-reactivated​

@oddsconvert​

@onlybadendings​

@owencarvourenthusiast

@pigeonwhumps​

@pumpkin-spice-whump​

@quietly-by-myself​

@quirkykayleetam​

@ramadiiiisme​

@redwhump​

@scp-1296​

@secretwhumplair​

@the-whumperfly-effect​

@the-whumpers-grimm​

@thecyrulik​

@thegreatwhodini​

@themarlo​

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight​

@t0rture-me​

@vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff​

@whuarri​

@whump-blog-reblogs​

@whump-cravings​

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump​

@whump-me-all-night-long​

@whump-my-heart-away​

@whump-queen​

@whumperfully​

@whumpthisway​

@whumpilicious​

@whumpshaped​

@whumpwillow​

@whumpworld​

@whumpy-writings​

@whumpycries​

@whumpyzombie​

@whumpzone​

@wits-and-wrongs

@wolfeyedwitch​

[ns-imagines]

I did not want to bring drama onto this page but, i need to be able to defend myself and my blog.

To the @ users i had to read ur posts and comments so you should probably read mine :D

Edited: @everyone who comments and then deletes their comment. if ur gonna talk shit unblock me. I am all for it.

It is not fair in any form that everyone involved has only read that post. Let alone the person posting things to provoke the downfall of my week old blog and for me to receive death threats and to be called horrible things. Before you key board smash in the comments read the whole thing below.

There is absolutely no r*pe in the fic i posted. The non consensual aspect of it is Nikto entering the readers personal space, touching of the hand/shoulder/thigh. Everything sexual is consensual. Could i have explained it better in the tags yes. But it does not prompt what is basically cyber bullying to occur. It is my first NSFW post in the entire history of my account 2017-present.

Also people complaining its NSFW its a NSFW post???

Now addressing @cssndra-cain

This had all started two days into the reactivation of my blog. They had posted this.

** CRAZYYYY i go back to take a screenshot of the post and its fucking GONEE. It was a screenshot of my Character Introduction for Nikto. It was basically just talking shit.

At the time MY @ for this blog was in the # portion of the post. My like four followers reached out to me bringing this to my attention. I was almost finished with my fic so I decided to be petty back and send this meme

In no way shape or form does it say what the post is about, the nsfw, the contents, NOTHING. You are absolutely mad if you think i went to read your blog and ur entire life story after you calling me out under hashtags. I am honest to god regretting not taking screenshots of the chat because it was deleted either when they changed their name or blocked me. I dont know or care how tumblr DMS work.

If ur gonna post screenshots post the entire conversation because me stating “dont be sensitive” was referring to the mass amount of nsfw content under tumblr and under the COD fandom. I stated to them in DM there was no r*pe content involved and that it was just touching or him entering the readers personal space. I made sure to directly update it after having this conversation with the other user.

They then proceeded to reblog a post mentioned pedo****a and put MY blog in the hashtags. How the fuck am i a pedo*****e making a NSFW scenario about a man that is well over 20 maybe even 30? Please tell me.

This user then proceeded to remove the hashtags that mentioned me and made the post below

I will personally provide you the link if you want it.

In this post they completely bash my account and LIE about our interaction. Saying that, and i quote

“The author who DMed me even invalidated how much I found rape disturbing by saying “well there’s worse rape fics on here” and saying that I’m too sensitive to be on tumblr.”

Post the entire conversation because this is utter bullshit. All i sent was the meme.

“Imagine telling someone with any kind of past of sexual violence, that they’re too sensitive for the internet “

Because yes, (and this is sarcasm if you are dense) i totallly reviewed this persons account and knew their entire back story of trauma.

Then we have the user’s commenting who dont even BOTHER to check the other side of the story. You would think at the age of 16 or over (tumblr’s age requirement) you would understand that people say shit they way they want you to hear it. There is two sides to each story. If you are that easily influenced and dont do your research after seeing a post on the internet i am genuinely worried.

Then what gets me the most is this person continues to mention me in post. At what point does this become bullying?? You probably wont even read this because you want to feel in the right. Almost your entire blog is complaining about NSFW and how it triggers you like the author is supposed to know. You should probably turn on the NSFW filter. Please message me and i can show you how step by step.

I do not condone or support r*pe sexual assault or pedo****a. You read a NSFW post and got mad it was NSFW.

Im tagging everyone i dont care. If ur gonna call me horrible things, send death threats fucking read this.

Since ur post mentioned things I should learn. Hopefully you learn from this. Dont call people out if you don’t expect the truth to come out. Because i aint the one to take shit talking.

@ghostsaop @fury-under-night @collinnmckinley

@snikimobius @bjahfler @obligatoryghoststare @freshlemontea @romancedeldiablo

^insane most of you guys are late 20s early 30s

I will not be replying to comments or other post im done and i simply do not care anymore i am going to continue writing.

For my followers who are just enjoying my writing. Thank you and i love writing for yall. This will be the only drama post on my account and after 12 hours i will be adding a “read more” so it isnt blocking my content.

*me when i read a marked NSFW post and theres NSFW*

[pagegirlintraining]

AO3 wrapped (writer’s edition)

Well, this was a lovely way to close out the year. Here goes:

1. How many words have you written this year?

An unbelievable 331,924 👀

2. How many works did you publish this year?

12 in total. 6 are oneshots, and of the rest I’ve finished 4.

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

I’m extremely proud of Oh, Those Summer Nights. The dialogue in this one flows so beautifully, I love the way I got to incorporate some of my favorite places in Stockholm, and it just altogether has this magical atmosphere about it.

But also, for entirely different reasons, Vi har bara varandra, det är allt vi behöver. Because I wrote a freaking story in Swedish, what even?!

4. What work of yours has the most hits?

Overall it’s Dancing Through Life with a little over 22k, but considering we didn’t start publishing The Prince And The Popstar until August this year, the 16k on that one feel worth mentioning. On a chapter basis they’re also very close to one another.

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

The Prince And The Popstar. For sure. That one blew both of us away I think.

6. Favorite title you used?

Both One, two, three, four, five, sex on my mind and Stop the world (I wanna get off with you) fit so nicely with what the respective stories are about.

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

I haven’t actually checked, but it’s probably Sabrina Carpenter from Prince and Popstar alone 😂

8. Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

Wilmon. They’re also the only pairing I wrote for.

9. Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?

Same answer as 8.

10. What work was the quickest to write?

Copy and Pasta went from a batshit idea to a fully-written thing within 4 hours, that’s got to be a personal record.

11. What work took you the longest to write?

The writing process of Prince and Popstar was very spread out because both @the-amber-fox and I had lots of life stuff happen in between. All in all it took us 4 months to even have enough to start posting, and then another 3 to finish it.

12. How many WIPs do you have in your docs for next year?

I have two new ones I firmly plan on writing, and one idea I’m not so sure about yet. Also two I plan on finishing next year.

13. What’s your longest work of the year?

Based on the amounts of them that were written this year, it’s The Prince And The Popstar. Then again I only wrote about half of that, so it may also be The Time Of My Life with 45501 words and counting.

14. What’s your shortest work of the year?

Vi har bara varandra, det är allt vi behöver (714 words) for obvious reasons 😂

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

Dancing through life (don’t look at me, I swear I will get myself to finish that epilogue at some point🙈), The Time Of My Life and Killing me softly (with his song), which still hasn’t gotten a second chapter yet but is very much not abandoned.

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

Alternate Universe. Who else is not surprised?

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

I swear, the answer to this changes every time I think about it. For now I’ll go with my Dirty Dancing AU version of Simon, because he’s somehow the version that feels closest to canon Simon even though plot wise the story is the farthest from canon. That’s a nice mental stretch to keep up.

18. What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

Can you hear me laughing? It’s Wilmon all the way.

19. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

It’s probably a tie between Copy and Pasta (short, sweet, always cheers me up) and the already existing parts of The Time Of My Life (it’s two of my favorite things combined, has my favorite version of Wille I’ve written and some beautiful Wilmon moments I really like revisiting).

20. How many kudos in total did you get this year?

4448.

21. Which work has the most comments?

Per chapter it’s The Prince And The Popstar.

22. Did you do any collaborative works this year?

Yessss 😍 I realized the other day that I’ve written four complete works with my darling @the-amber-fox this year and could not believe it. They’ve been some of my faves to write, and that’s hugely thanks to her, so thanks 💜

I also got to write the first chapter of Killing me softly with the amazing @ishotforthestars . Mayyyyybe we’ll get back to that one for a special occasion…😁

23. Did you write any gifts this year?

I sure did. Got to cowrite two birthday presents, for and with @the-amber-fox and @ishotforthestars respectively. Then another birthday present for @omaremioo and a Christmas present for @zee-has-commitment-issues .

24. Did you receive any gifts this year?

Yes again. Got a lovely birthday gift and the very best Christmas gift this year (Thanks, Foxy, and thanks times two, Elin 😂🫶🏼)

25. What’s your most common category?

M/M unsurprisingly.

26. What do you listen to while writing?

When I do it’s either my ever-growing annual playlist or the cheesiest 80s ballads for intimacy scenes.

27. Favorite work you wrote this year?

I think I’ve had the most fun with Prince and Popstar, but the most moments of giddy pride with The Time Of My Life. That’s all I can say for this one.

28. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

I can’t possibly choose a favorite, mostly because I’d have to reread all of them and I don’t have a whole week off to do it😄 so I’ll go with something that, while pretty simple, resonated with me a lot when I reread it: “Just because that’s what he expects doesn’t mean it’s what you need to give him, Simon.”

29. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Learning that despite what I’d been told before, I seem to have a knack for comedic writing.

[singaporesainz]

Sending in another hot take because I keep seeing the discussions and I feel like I NEED to contribute.

I think that the amount of attention put on wags is so insane. Like does it really matter who charles leclerc or carlos sainz or whoever is dating? Does it affect your life? Does it change their racing in any way?

I feel like the hate or general discourse around wags comes from the way so many fans feel involved with the drivers (smt I could go on about 4 a while so lmk if ur interested) due 2 things like social media, meet and greets, YouTube videos and such. While most fans take that content as light hearted and a way to engage with the drivers outside of racing and maybe to get a better idea of them as a person as ik alot of ppl will never go 2 a f1 race due 2 the crazy prices (another thing I could go on about) but another group of fans take these videos or content in such a odd way? Like they start forming parasocial relationships with the drivers bcs babe let's be honest you aren't gonna end up with carlos or lando or any driver cuz like?? Where r they seeing u??

This also ties in with the "take him 2 the moon 4 me" comments leila got when her and mick hard launched like he's a grown ass man let them be happy

i could also go on and on about the wag discourse but i think i come off rly mean and insensitive so i have to put a pin in it sometimes. but i think anyone who hardcore supports wags are overcompensating for the actual jealousy they have over this woman dating their favorite driver. and i think it’s even weirder making these fan pages/posts/edits for these girls simply because they’re dating a driver 💀💀 it’s one thing to support these girls based on their careers (i.e. supporting isa bc of her podcast and fashion influences, lily + golf, kika + modeling) and a whole other thing to support them based on the sole reason that they’re a wag. does that make sense???????

and the parasocial relationships are crazzzyyyy. someone mentioned the “directioners to f1 fan pipeline” on my old blog and. ya. there are quite a huge chunk of people who are falling into old habits and ways that directioners showed once upon a time and it’s so fucking cringey. i know it’s wrong to judge someone based on how they consume and enjoy content but… there’s a line. there HAS to be line

[stranger-rants]

(1) I hate how the Duffers and no one im the ST fandom allows Nancy to be flawed and how she's now shapped as this person incapable of making mistakes. With that mentioned, all these anons around Billy Tumblr finding genuine joy when she's bullied by Carol and Tommy (which i admittedly like how they embrace their mean energy), even after she's concerned about finding Barb, saying that her hitting Steve was wrong and that she shouldn't have reacted like that, making "nancy wheeler slander" party posts, the whole sex shaming situation that a lot of fans still feed into these days, blame her for Barb's death, claiming that all those moments that she was ridiculized weren't a big deal, pretty much laughing and saying that she deserves all that treatment just because she is annoying and entitled its something that pretty much makes my stomach churn in ways that i can hardly describe...

(2) This is coming from someone that stopped caring about her after S3, bur also from someone who has been in same slut shaming bullying situations and that possessive jealosy treatment Steve (i'm not saying he's bad either) gave her on S1 just because he thought she was cheating on him with Jonathan

I’ve only gotten a couple negative anons about Nancy, and they’re usually about Nancy and Steve. Otherwise, I don’t get these posts on my dash nor do I see them in the tags because I don’t follow anyone doing these things and I generally stick to the Billy Hargrove tag only. I think a possible reason for the antagonism in “Billy fandom” have to do with how many vocal Nancy fans are Antis, but at the same time there’s prominent Steve fans who are Antis as well and Steve does tend to avoid criticism for a lot of things. It just reads to me like two characters being pit against each other for the nice guy love interest Steve which is a tale as old as time in fandom spaces.

I do think Nancy and Steve come with an entitled attitude to certain situations, but that’s because of class. I am also critical of the way that the Duffers use her as a “girl boss” while also positioning her and her family as conservative. There’s something about how they’re not just trying to capture the pop culture nostalgia of the 80s, but the political nostalgia of the 80s through their most popular characters that really bothers me… but again Nancy is ultimately a teenage girl with her own flaws just like any other character on the show. I wish fans of the character and fans who hate the character alike would spend less time making it our problem.

I’m not particularly interested in The Wheelers, so I don’t spend a lot of time willingly talking about them unless something comes up that I want to address. I’m ambivalent to Nancy, but I will get defensive if fans pull unfair criticisms of just plain hate against her on my blog but really this isn’t a Billy fandom problem exclusively. I know post season two and three, there was a lot of discourse among Steve fans about her and what she “owed” or didn’t owe Steve. That pissed me off and I’ve spoken up about that in the past on my main blog, but really she is not the character I care to spend the majority of my time talking about outside of that.

I understand the discomfort this brings, but it also makes me uncomfortable how a wedge has been purposefully driven between Nancy fans and Billy fans despite the characters hardly interacting. The amount of hate comments I’ve seen from Nancy fans in the Billy tag is astounding and I’ve blocked many of their accounts, which might be why I don’t see this particular fandom discourse all the time. I don’t go into the Nancy tag, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they get similar hate posts. I just don’t see any of my mutuals doing that, nor giving love and support to hateful anons. I think it’s worthwhile to look at the wider fandom for criticism on this one.

[projectorinsights]

5 Truths About Dating & Relationships For Projectors (Human Design)

If you read my previous blog, “What It Means To Be A Projector In Human Design,” then you’re already familiar with the concept of waiting for an invitation.

First of all, do NOT initiate anything. Acting out of fear, loneliness or desperation will repel people. There’s nothing wrong with wanting companionship, but a projector isn’t here to look for love — that’s the job of Manifesting Generators and Pure Generators.

Projectors are here to be FOUND and INVITED into love.

The most aligned relationship for you will not happen if you initiate (only manifestors initiate).

As mentioned in previous emails, projectors have a very penetrative aura. People have to be ready to receive your energy. Trying to cultivate a love relationship without proper recognition and an invite will leave you bitter.

But lucky for you, I have 5 truths that will help you navigate dating and relationships as a projector.

1) Wait for a clear indication you have someone’s attention.

The more formal the invite, the better.

However, sometimes an invite can be as simple as someone asking genuine questions to get to know you better. You’ll know if the questions are genuine. You won’t feel awkward, forced to speak or misunderstood.

Receiving an invite could also look like getting a direct message from the person you’re interested in.

Projectors have to be invited into personal 1–1 spaces.

You can comment and like someone’s post all you want, but if you’re looking for a connection, it is imperative for you to wait for them to message first. From my observation, a projector will feel as though they have no function whenever they’re trying to invite themselves into a space. You have to let other people come to you.

Otherwise, how can you, as a projector, guide an energy type if they don’t even know what they need from you?

Having this perspective is a good reminder for when you’re fascinated with someone and thinking about making a move.

You can wait for the person to speak first, prolong eye contact or ask questions that are specific to you. As long as you feel seen in the conversation and not like you’re bothering them or begging for attention, you may have a solid opportunity in front of you. Practice patience, projector.

Give it time.

2. Male projectors are magnetic enough to attract — not initiate — love.

As a man, society expects you to make the first move.

And I’m telling you not to do that unless you have already been recognized as a possible love interest. I had a guy friend in high school who was a projector but I wasn’t aware of his Human Design until recently. Considering the effect his energy had on everyone around him in such a short amount of time (he was a transfer), it makes a lot of sense now.

He was uniquely himself.

At an urban high school, mostly filled with gang bangers, he stuck out.

Although we wore uniforms, his customized jackets, curly Afro and elevated shoe game helped him stick out. He had an aura of independence. The girls adored him, but most were too scared to approach him.

Me? I made friends with him because I loved how he carried himself as if he didn’t need anyone’s validation or attention.

He was the type of guy to ride his skateboard and bike to school — which was uncommon for black kids back in the day unless you were an ‘outcast’ or alternative in some way. Yet he carried himself well with ease, even when he sat at the lunch tables by himself. He might have been a loner, but he was a popular loner little did he know.

Because he made everything look cool and never went out of his way to be different, it created a magnetizing aura around him.

So if you’re a male projector, don’t lose hope.

Focus on naturally attracting the person you want.

Never initiate a relationship without recognition. If you’re invited into someone’s life as a friend, you are a friend. Do not attempt to escalate the relationship if you were not recognized beyond the role you were invited into.

Truth #3 — Dating apps can be tricky, but they’re especially tricky if you’re a projector.

Dating apps are to be treated like other social media sites.

‘Swipe right’ to let someone know you’re interested, but wait for them to message you first. In general, if you match with someone who has yet to send the first message after multiple hours or days, it’s safe to say that the person isn’t fully interested. Projectors are meant to be seen and recognized — so if you’re not getting that vibe from someone, it’s time to cut your losses.

Be mindful of people who are looking for anybody and people who are looking for you.

You also have to watch out for people who solely seek you out for your attention.

A projector’s attention is powerful. You make people feel seen in ways other people don’t. Keep your boundaries strong so that you can identify when someone is only showing up for themselves.

This means that if you match with someone who only speaks about themselves or they try too hard to impress you without actually taking the time to get to know who you are, that person is not for you.

And don’t be afraid to speak up when something doesn’t interest you (IE.: someone asks you out for a drink but you hate going to the bar/clubs).

Projectors should never “go with the flow” in the early stages of dating unless they have received the proper invite. Aside from authority, you’ll know if an invite is correct if it aligns with your desire. Your dating profile should be an authentic representation of who you are.

Once it’s set up, cultivate patience, wait for the messages to come to you.

Use your authority before making the decision to commit to a conversation or date.

Truth #4 — People who don’t recognize you will never see you.

Recognition is a given if you’re in the right environment and around the right people.

If a projector wants to be invited into a connection as a friend, but the other party sees them as a romantic prospect, the friendship will come with lots of resistance and potential humiliation. If the recognition you want doesn’t align with the invitation, it’s not the right situation for you.

If you’re a projector who was invited into a relationship without proper recognition, it may be your instinct to adjust to your partner’s wants and needs, but that is the worst thing you can do for yourself.

You see, once a projector is invited into a relationship with an energy type, it can be hard to leave.

For example, generators and projectors have a symbiotic relationship. Generators naturally appreciate the attention they get from projectors and projectors enjoy the sacral energy of the generators. Together, they have the perfect balance of guidance and execution.

However, because of the undefined sacral in projectors, it’s hard for them to pin point when enough is enough. Projectors can become wrapped up in the attention they receive (for better or worse) and be energetically run over by the person they’re with.

This is why boundaries are important.

Projectors have to be very selective of the company they keep.

Truth #5 — Treat yourself like you’re worthy of a relationship.

It can be frustrating when you express a desire for love only to be bombarded by “you have to love yourself first” sentiments.

But honestly? A projector has to appreciate themselves and the life they live before seeking anything. Show off how great you are and your energy will attract the recognition and invitations you want.

Give the manifesting generators and pure generators something to respond to.

This means looking your best, feeling your best and taking care of yourself.

A projector doesn’t have to do anything for attention except be themselves. In the same breath, when you’re intentional about the energy you put out, people will project it back to you. If the invite doesn’t come, don’t get caught up in bitterness.

There will always be another invite for the projector.

Projectors have to be patient with life. You’re working with efficient energy. Generators respond to prompts throughout the day but it can take a projector weeks, months — even years — for the right invite. Luckily, once the right invite comes, it’ll be perfect timing and worthwhile.

So play (have fun), rest (take breaks, naps) and let your aura do the leg work for you.

You’re not missing out anyone who hasn’t recognized and invited you into love.

What do you think of a human design projector guide filled with practical insights?

Use Projector Insights: How to Live Your Human Design as a resource. This eBook is a digestible reference point for projectors who are new to human design and those who are looking for more practical information.

All work + posts by this account is copyrighted.