#these ended up separate and I'm not mad about it quite frankly

[kindahoping4forever]

Nostalgia For A Time That Never Existed: Australia

📸: Jess Gleeson

[gleedyke]

Here comes my two cents on anti-Neil Gaiman posting that I hope comes across civilly and that if you choose to interact with you are also polite about.

Everyone has the right to like/dislike a creator and to separately like/dislike their work. I happen to like this particular creator quite a bit, and I do notice that not everyone GOmens posting does, which again, of course, is fine. Disagree with choices made, that's healthy, but the way I keep seeing "us (fandom) vs him" mentality on any type of post feels bad. This isn't a defense of him; I don't fucking know him, nor does he need that. I'm actually quite happy when I hear folks say they simply don't follow/interact with him if they dislike him. That's great energy, but the rest of us seeing it all over is less great. Thought some reminders posted into the void would help lighten up the energy around here, or at least get it off my chest lol.

1. I've been properly queerbaited by media. This is not fucking that. Take a deep breath and heal with me.

2. A lot of vitriol towards Neil, and frankly Michael and David too, seems to be about being straight men creating this. Have we still not learned to mind our business on this front. You don't know them, we don't know them, but everything we've ever seen from them proves they're on our side. You wanna be mad at a straight man for actually fumbling the bag Steven Moffat is right th- sorry I forgot this isn't about him I tried not to bring up Sherlock in point 1 I really did. ANYWAY. I'm not implying anything, but I have learned to mind your business a little when telling someone why they can't create something queer. That's all.

3. This is his story, and it's not over. It took so long for him to get an adaptation made that he actually wanted to do, and he's doing it. I point y'all to Percy Jackson (I know there's some overlap in demographics here) and how much better the new series is just because Rick Riordan is more involved in adapting it. Having an author of the original work handling the adaptation this thoroughly is a gift regardless of how you feel about him. Additionally, he's writing the rest of the story that he and Terry Pratchett didn't tell. In Terry's honor. For himself. For all the people with beat up original copies. For all the people who have just joined because they realized there is something magical here. But above all it's still his. Take a deep breath and remember this is a love story, and if you still are not content in the end there's always AO3 my friends.

TL;DR vent away on your Tumblr if you don't like Neil Gaiman, nobody is gonna like everyone and certainly nobody's perfect. But before spreading negativity against him on every corner of the GOmens tags, I encourage you to remember how essential he is to the work regardless of your opinion. And remember that those who do like him and his work are also doing so with the best of intentions. Aren't we all. Peace and love this new year. Wait and see. Etc.

[valetoria]

Okay, I will address it constructively.

As for your first point regarding public content on the internet, that is not true at all. Do you know how many art, videos, or any media pieces in general, are stolen and published across different platforms without crediting the original source / artist? Just because it's porn doesn't mean it isn't theft. That's still someone else's video, not theirs, and not yours. Do you think a porn account thieving around and stealing porn to use as content for their account makes the content they use available for free use? Because if you do, then I'm sorry to tell you that isn't the case at all. There are several accounts online that steal artworks from artists without even so much as crediting them, but even then that does not mean anyone else can just use it. It shouldn't be that way. It's the same case for your fics. If they're available on the internet, that doesn't mean anyone can just take it because it's accessible. Even if you do have a warning not to steal, people do not always follow — don't you think that's frustrating too? Imagine being an artist whose art has been reposted so many times without consent and credit that people start believing it's free to use for their own account.

Also even if you aren't using the art for profit, does that make it okay? There are several artists who do not allowed their art being used, even for non commercial reasons. In your case, you don't tag the artist who drew it. You don't even do the bare minimum and say "credit to the artist" which, by the way, is also not ideal, as you're meant to either credit the ACTUAL artist, remove the art because you don't know the artist's boundaries yet, or adhere to whatever rule they have when you do find out who they are. It's really not that hard, so why make all these excuses?

If someone found your fic through another outlet and posted it on a separate account without tagging you / crediting you, even if it isn't for profit, you'd be mad too. At the end of the day, theft is theft. Even if it isn't to make money, someone else using your work without credit is still theft in a way, and is quite very frankly incredibly rude.

i understand where youre coming from, and i see your point about respecting artists and crediting their work, but youre implying that i claim the content as my own when im just sharing links to videos that are already widely reposted across the internet—besides i didnt sign up to be an ethics enforcer by reposting on tumblr. plus, i aint making any excuses, im just stating valid points.

by your logic, anyone sharing any kind of content online without a source is ‘stealing.’ if youre going to call sharing porn links ‘theft,’ then what does that say about reposting memes, fan edits, etc., without credit? do you go around accusing people who reblog or repost content without credit of theft too? because if youre holding me to that standard, id like to know if youre doing the same thing when it comes to all the other content being shared. seems like a bit of a double standard if you ask me 😐.

it also seems pretty pointless for you to go anonymous if i already have an idea of who you are. the accusation of me being a ‘thief’ is wild. just because something is public or reposted doesnt automatically make it ‘stolen.’ if you really have an issue with that, you should talk to the platforms or the original twt accounts reposting that content—not someone just passing it along. at the end of the day, im not doing anything wrong by sharing it, and its not theft if im not claiming it as my own. ill keep doing my thing, and ill leave it at that smh.

[cherrymangos]

FFXIV UPDATE! Another long one, so there will be many screenies under the cut :3

First up: I attempted to do the fall guys event! But my internet disconnected me and I could not compete so alas, that shall have to wait :(

Does anyone know for how long this event will last, and if it'll come back yet again?

Moenbryda :D

These DPS queues are ROUGH. While queueing for the hard versions of the 3 primal fights, I had 3 separate tanks drop and I ended waiting over an hour combined. I miss my healer queues

I got recognized during the Shiva fight :)

And now... it's Haurchfaunt time <3

Also, the foreshadowing sure goes crazy in this game

And if you've been following my journey, I'm sure you're wondering where my Hyur Vash has gone... Alas, I received one too many free fantasia's and became an au'ra. frankly it was a spur of the moment decision but i have an extra fantasia for when i want to become vash again so not all is lost :]

here are some screenies of my new WoL, whom i consider to be transmasc <3

anyways back to what you're here for... during the hard version of the Titan fight, i fucked up. a LOT. like, died 5-6 times. What can I say? It was late, i was tired, and i'd completely forgotten the mechanics because it's been so long T_T Also I got incredibly unlucky and was the only player to be targeted by that one move that entombs you in rock, so I had to wait for my party to bail me out. And yet somehow by the end of it, I still ended up getting a player commendation.

Quite frankly I wanted to refund it to whoever gave it to me, because that was the WORST performance I've put forth yet.

Anyways. I once again got cock-blocked and had to FINALLY finish the crystal tower quests. So uh. Yeah. Got eaten by a dog. Killed by a giant floating eye. Watched Graha take a nap and remembered I won't be seeing that guy for a long time. You know, the good stuff.

I also now have over 4 days worth of time put into this play through :)

And while I was shopping around at Revanant's Toll, another Au Ra popped up next to me and our chocobo started running into each other. When I exited my menu to get a better photo they stopped :(

Bye Moenbryda :( I wasn't terribly sad to see you go in all honesty because you did not get as much screen time as I remembered. I teared up a bit but didn't end up actually crying and the whole funeral felt a bit awkward because like, what do I actually really know about you...

And in today's episode of Minfilia continues to make me mad:

That's wonderful Minfilia! A shame I can't confide in anyone myself because you forbade me from telling the others about Midgardsormr yoinkin the blessing of light! Who's MY pillar of strength huh?? It's even better because Alphinaud says this:

Just wielding me like a weapon and I got no say in the matter :(

anyways... Hi Estinien! Quite frankly I don't remember how my last Dragoon quest left off because it's been a minute, but didn't you disappear? After being possessed or somethin? I'm VERY excited to play through Heavensward as a Dragoon. No other expansion has unique class dialogue do they?

Now for a speed run: got accused of regicide. Wanted to punch Teledji in the face. Wanted to punch Ilberd in the face. And I'm already missing my fellow scions... Hope I get to see you minor characters again because I'll be for real, I don't remember what happens to you!

ok so funny story... ive hit the photo limit. So uh. there will be more screenies in a reblog

[duckapus]

Mario vs Muppet

As the battle bus rolls across the felt countryside, Kamek stands up from his seat near the front and turns to address everyone, "This is it. The last seed. Given Kermit's abilities, we'll have to be especially careful not to be see-"

"No."

Everyone looks to see who spoke, and it's Mario, who's standing up as well with his head lowered, eyes hidden by the bill of his hat, "We've tried the stealthy approach twice now, and it's only made things worse. We know where the seed is, we know what Kermit can do, we're riding in a fucking tank, and quite frankly he's made this personal." He raises his head, revealing a steely glare and a fire in his eyes, "I say we do this the Avatar way and storm the place. Memes, violence, excessive amounts of fire, the works."

While some of the group has concerns, there's a general ascent to the idea. 4, Meggy and Marcy in particular remember all too well the first conversion they ever saw.

Seeing that they're in agreement, Mario nods firmly, "Alright, here's what we're gonna do..."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's a lovely, peaceful day at Muppet Castle. The kind of day that makes you absolutely sure that nothing can go wrong.

*HONK! HOOOONK!*

Those are, of course, the best days for everything to go wrong.

Kermit gets out of his throne to see what that noise is, and his eyes bulge out when he sees the battle bus about to hit the wall at top speed, "WHAT THE FU-"

*CRASH!*

He's thrown ragdolling across the room, which is now full of dust, rubble, and a completely undamaged tour bus on tank treads. The door opens, revealing Mario with a rocket launcher, "YOU KILLED-A MY BROTHER! YOU SONS OF-A BITCHES!"

With that, and a rocket that Kermit just barely blocks with his shadow hands, the rest of the group pours out of the bus with various weapons in their hands, apart from Phineas, Ferb and Cubot who stay inside to use the bus's weapon systems.

4 speaks up, "Alright Kermit, give us the Wonder Seed or we'll take it from you."

Kermit gulps, then scowls and pulls out the blue seed, "Oh, you mean this?" and then, in a show of defiance, he puts it in his mouth and swallows.

Everyone looks at him with varying degrees of shock, with Marcy as the first to recover, "Well, I guess we're dissecting frogs today."

"GUARDS!"

And so the fight's on. Muppets and shadow hands pour in from every direction, many immediately getting blown up by the battle bus's arsenal. Marcy and Schezo raise their blades and jump directly into the fray, while Meggy, Kamek and Sig try to keep their distance and fire ink and magic from afar. 4...ends up in a slapfight with a converted Fozzie Bear. And Mario only has eyes for Kermit, chasing him all over the battlefield in a frenzy of missiles and Madness, which eventually causes the two to separate from the brawl end enter the halls, which thankfully takes the shadow hands out of the equation.

"I'm-a gonna get you!"

Kermit runs for his life, knowing even in his corrupted state that he stands no chance against an Avatar in full Crazy Stupid Mode. He rounds a corner, and when he sees where he is he grins, "Oh, Luigi!"

Mario freezes in his tracks at that name, and then flinches back when he sees the felt form of his lost brother burst out of a nearby door and plant himself between the two, Kermit smirks down at him.

"That's right, if you want to get to me, you'll have to go through your brother first!" He throws his head back in an evil laugh...which lasts for only a few seconds before a now flaming, ragdolling Luigi hits the wall behind him, "WAT!?"

Mario just gives him a blank wall-eyed stare, "You don't know me very well, do you?"

Kermit looks on in horror as Mario slowly approaches, "Iiiiiii'm about to whup some-bo-dy's aaaaaaass..." before running again.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back in the throne room, things are...more-or-less going in the group's favor for once, seeing as the crowd of Muppets has thinned out significantly. Not to say everything's going smoothly. In particular, Schezo's apparently accidentally said something inappropriate yet again and is on the receiving end of a Miss Piggy Beatdown, and 4's still "fighting" Fozzie.

They end up near a balcony, where Statler and Waldorf are of course watching all the action, "Uh, not that I'm complaining, but shouldn't you be down here trying to stop us like everyone else?"

"Are you kidding? This is the best show they've had all week!"

"Maybe even all year!"

"Plus my grandkids would kill me if they found out I attacked Phineas and Ferb."

"Mmm."

He just shrugs at this, "Fair enough."

"I'LL SHOW YOU PENETRATION! HIII-YAH!"

"I CLEARLY MEANT WITH MY SWORD, YOU THICK SIDE OF BACON! AREIADO!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

And now back to Kermit, who's found a table to hide under.

"Come here, fishy fishy!"

He shivers in fear, praying that the crazy plumber moves on, and after several seconds of silence he's almost convinced that it's safe...

And then a gloved hand shoots down around his neck, "Got ya bitch!"

He yanks the oversized frog up and onto the table, a massive knife in his free hand, and Kermit breaks, "Please, I'll give you anything to let me go!"

Mario...seemingly thinks it over, a wild look in his eyes, "...offer me money."

"O-of course, all the money you could ever want!"

"Offer me power."

"I-I'll make you a king! I'll give you Anything!"

"Anything!"

"Just name it! What do you want!?"

"...I want my brother back, you son of a bitch." And the knife comes down, tearing through the soft fabric body, fluffy clouds of stuffing falling around them as the seed is exposed. And then he grabs the seed and goes back the way he came, leaving what's left of his enemy behind...

...which has a single, hilariously ironic remark about the situation, "Wow, what an asshole."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few moments later, Mario bursts back into the Throne room, "I GOT IT!"

4 gives him a thumbs up from where he's sitting on the now-unconscious Fozzie, "Perfect! Alright everybody, let's blow this joint!"

The rest of the group heeds his words, finishing up with whoever they're fighting and going back to the bus. Once they're all in, Phineas does a three-point turn before flooring it back out the hole they'd made, and once they're a few yards away from the castle makes a sharp turn towards the Tower.

"Get some rest guys. It's gonna be a long drive, and we need to be ready for whatever's in there."

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Personally I want her to continue discussing her own creations and how creating and redidicating her love songs to her new guy feels and the problem with muses and how her exe guy was put on such a high pedistel but it was all an illusion and he kinda didn't deliver et cetera. Frankly for TTPD i was expecting at least one "our love was gold but now you're hearts tin" metaphor.

anon tbh I wasn't going to answer this because like I've said before, I really don't want to get into the muses of it all in that way here because I don't think there's anything to add to the conversation (definitely not for me anyway). Which isn't to say you or other people can't feel that way and talk about it, to be clear! Just not what I want to talk about on my blog for the most part.

BUT, while on the first listen or two of TTPD I was surprised that there wasn't more, let's say, overt reference to a certain muse, like I said in this post last night, he is all over the album in the subtext. And frankly, I think there is actually quite a bit of reference in the album to some of the themes you mention, even if it's metaphor at times.

The idealizing of the muse but it coming crashing down? I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift. I founded the club she's heard great things about. You say I abandoned the ship but I was going down with it. Handcuffed to the spell I was under for just one hour of sunshine. My friends tried, but I wouldn't hear it, watched me daily disappearing for just one glimpse of his smile. He was a hot house flower to my outdoorsmen.

Didn't deliver on promises made and the implosion of their plans? Say it once again with feeling how the death rattle breathing silenced as the soul was leaving, the deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling. Years of labor, locks and ceilings, in the shade of how he was feeling. I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the Heath. So how much sad did you think I had in me? How much tragedy? You swore that you loved me but where were the clues? I died on the altar waiting for the proof. (Honourable mention: How long could we be a sad song 'til we were too far gone to bring back to life? And I wouldn't marry me either, a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her. Do something, babe, say something.)

There's so much there about love gone cold. I stopped CPR, after all it's no use, the spirit was gone, we would never come to. Splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter, he was with her in dreams. Gray and blue and fights and tunnels. And so a touch that was my birthright became foreign.

I don't doubt she's going to be processing that relationship and its end for awhile, mot because she's hung up on it but because it was just a huge growth experience she'll be unpacking as she gains more distance from it. (Just the same way she's unpacked the Jake relationship from "chaotic first true love" to "problematic first adult relationship" to something... darker.) And it may show up in other music, sure. But my impression from the album, and especially from the epilogue and from the various posts about it, is that she isn't keen on hashing things out to such a direct degree in the future. I could be totally wrong, but I got the feeling that with TTPD she was closing the book on that. (I have some guesses as to why, but they're not needed here and again veer into the parasocial I think. The very abridged cliff notes version of it is: they went through a lot together and were both dealing with their own shit separately and as a couple over the years, and while that doesn't excuse any way she was treated, I think it's more nuanced in her mind than "he was a shitty boyfriend and I'm mad".)

It's kind of like some of her other relationships and experiences: I don't doubt those feelings and the way those feelings have evolved will show up in future music. I just don't expect it to show up in a "now that I'm in a healthy relationship where I feel supported and cherished FUCK YOU [insert name here]". I'm exaggerating but you get the point.

(not criticizing you anon or anyone else, just saying-- this isn't something I particularly want to contribute to)

[dnickels]

Julian Fellowes writing steelworkers is a hilarious idea to start with, but I've been trying to put my finger on what feels slightly 'off' about the storyline. Putting aside the usual amount of Fellowesian nonsense, at least some of the dissonance is in how the demands are phrased. 'Bourgeois' isn't quite the word here but "I just want to spend more time with my family" is calibrated to be palatable to a certain audience, and that is not an audience of basement dynamite IWW radicals. It may be that that was deliberate in-universe, because its the argument that would reach known wife guy and superdad George Russell, but it serves to defang the movement. Frankly, when the titans of industry were waxing hysterical about the blood-dimmed tide loosed upon the world over a few dollars' wage increase, they weren't wrong! A strong, organized workforce that can advocate for workplace democracy is the end of their world entirely. It is radical! It's revolutionary! These weren't guys who wanted a few concessions (pwease Mr. Carnegie, more rails around the molten steel vats) they were dreaming about fundamentally changing the course of history. "The working class and the employing class have nothing in common. There can be no peace so long as hunger and want are found among millions of working people, and the few, who make up the employing class, have all the good things of life," as contemporaries very famously declared. The triumph of the union is the end of Newport cottages. As history it's nonsensical but it's a Fellowes joint, we're letting him have that, but as television making he's missing a powerful engine of conflict.

I had a thought "Fellowes writes the steelworkers like a guy who's never had a reason to be mad at his boss", which on the one hand feels true, and yet we have seen him write about workers trapped in untenable positions-- its just that the best examples are all lady's maids. It's very funny to me that that rough and ready, heavily armed steelworkers are somehow less furious and threatening than O'Brien, who attempted to harm and almost killed her employer through an act of workplace sabotage! He must on some level understand the rage and desperation of her position. He understands the total power an employer can have-- Agnes was obviously in the right morally when she moved to correct Armstrong's behavior and make her understand the consequences would be severe, but for whatever reason Racist Armstrong makes a much more heartfelt case for the precarity of her life than the steelworkers who have presumably seen guys die on the shop floor. We know Fellowes is aware of how dangerous work in the trades is at this time, multiple comments have been made about workers dying building the Brooklyn Bridge. You think that might come up in the strike storyline but they're oddly separate.

I don't particularly want to watch his netflix soccer show again, but I feel like I'm pulling on a vital thread when I think about how flat the team dynamics fell on that show and how the steelworker's union feels very two-dimensional here. For whatever reason (and I am putting my already shredded credibility on the line here to say so) Julian Fellowes has an extraordinary insight into the (historical) lives of women and gay men, but seems uncomfortable or even shy when asked to write about male camaraderie (see: the war season of DA with extremely very little war in it). The only male characters I can think of who are 1. of a similar age 2. in equivalent positions of power 3. not related to each other in his work are Church and Bannister, who are waging Butler War from across the street. I don't know what explicit conclusion I would draw here, but its fascinating to me to watch him fumble through this storyline at this moment of renewed labor militancy, reconfiguration of interpersonal workplace norms, unconstrained power of the individual capitalist, and male loneliness. It's not like I think this 74 year old relic (it's not because he's old, its because he believes in philosophies that lost most of their adherents on the first day of the Somme) has his finger on the pulse, but DA clearly spoke to people. Will Gilded Age push the same buttons?

(the only theme more common in Fellowes' writing than sad trapped debutantes is Powerful Benevolent Rich Dad but that one seems self-explanatory (Dr. Freud to the lobby please) in a way we'll quietly ignore for the sake of everyone's dignity)

[tartlette1968]

I'm shocked that there are Millennials and Gen-Z who aren't fed up. Indeed it fills me with disgust that some are flaunting how well they are doing, and sniping and snarling at the rest of their respective generations who clearly are doing it damn tough.

I'm 55, and honestly, your story and mine follow parallel lines. Sure, things are different, but no worse.

"No worse". But that's really the problem, because they should be--ought to be better.

Nup, not going to list all the troubles I had growing up, as if it's some kind of competition. Because bleak, dank, dystopian, and fruitless is my story, too. I'm not writing this to do the finger waggling, "OH, you think YOU'VE got it bad," because you HAVE got it bad.

There was an Australian movie, I think made in the wake of the Mad Max movies, about kids, going to a drive-in. The wheels are stolen from their car, so they report it. Given that the drive-in is miles from anywhere, they can't leave until they get wheels for their car. A whole bunch of kids are in exactly the same boat. It turns out the drive-in, and the wheel theft are part of some social policy to keep kids... specifically kids... from demanding stuff-like jobs, houses, a future, you know, troublesome stuff like that. They're now living in the drive-in, and it's like a refugee camp. The kids are promised they can leave, they just have to get some wheels, but they have to wait.

How hard can it be to get some new wheels? They have money. But there's some mysterious supply problem. Of course they could steal some wheels, because the drive-in still has shows, and customers, and they could leave some other poor kids in the same predicament. So this is the awful life they live, now.

So for you, things are different, but the fact that they haven't gotten better is failure writ large.

I lived at a time when it was deliberate economic policy to maintain unemployment at a steady 5%. I didn't choose it, but I found myself in that 5%. Surplus. Well, okay, if that's what the economy needs. But it was also deliberate Government policy to say they were "creating" jobs. And deliberate Government policy to paint the unemployed as parasites. It is the same now. One person over here gets a job, and it's great. Except someone goes in one end and pushes someone else out the other.

It doesn't work, it doesn't function. And all this does is chew up an already decimated earth.

And exactly what kind of argument is, "We can't afford to clean up our mess. Do you know how much it will cost to quit fossils fuels? Do you want a job, you selfish young brat?"

Yeah, because you have woken up, you see what a treadmill that is. And so they try to turn "woke" into a slur.

But the School Strike was brilliant. Yep, march, make noise, get in our way, and tell us to just shut up. Someone had to do it. Then we countered with trying to equate tech use with the garbage that older generations spit out is garbage itself. Yeah, right. I say "we", but frankly I'm disgusted with that "Well, YOU use mobile phones, so you can't point fingers at us, now can you?"

Look, I spent my life swinging from anger and cynicism and using words as weapons, to depression and hopelessness. People calling into the radio stations, older people, laying all the blame on my generation. I was constantly being told I wasn't needed. So we marched, we protested, and we also dropped out. No chance of buying a house, no chance of buying a car--used or otherwise.

We called ourselves the slacker generation--not because we were, but because we knew they would call us slackers. And we knew that if we exclaimed, "Yeah, I'm a slackerrrr!" it would annoy the hell out of them.

My parents were war babies, not boomers. All my friends at school had older siblings, but I was the first born, which separated me from my friends, and we moved around, too. The world was dying, then, too, and no one was listening, either.

And then there was MAD--Mutually Assured Destruction. That stupid policy of creating an arsenal of nuclear weapons so large that the world would be destroyed if there was a nuclear war. This knowledge was supposed to be a deterrent. Maybe it was. But if the button was pushed, it would take half an hour to completely destroy the planet. Going to bed with that on my mind... nup no need to finish that sentence, because it sure sounds like you know.

That hasn't changed, either. Though I don't think it's a policy, now, and that's fucking terrifying.

"I would like to go to work, but they shut it all down. I got a right to go to work, but there's no work here to be found. And now they say we're going to have to pay what's owed... We're going to have to reap from some seed that's been sowed."

Except it isn't even work. What's left? The debt of a cancelled world, a pandemic, a frozen economy, and you're left to pay it, and you shouldn't be.

We were the first generation who's standard of living was less than that of their parents, and that trend has continued.

We so couldn't get anything to change. And they made fun of us... oh yeah, they really had fun, just like is happening now.

Source

[roguestarsailor]

i quite embarassed today and im just fklsdjfkls dklfjsd so we had our design all hands meeting where everyone on the design talk about what they released in Q2 and because i was focused on the thought about Q2 i didn't mention all the work in progress that is happening so i only presented one thing that i half ass did (well my senior colleague didn't encourage me to talk about much else and just wanted to limited that and i feel so annoyed?? it wasn't even mine to own?? anyways thats a separate thought). i did the bulk of the research but they ended up going with a design by another designer and i just had to edit it and make it better but i handed it off cuz i had other work to do back to my senior colleague and he finished it up. and i realized how i ended the slides wasn't good and i should have added "oh we're cooking up a lot next quarter design meeting!" or something like that. but i just said done! thanks! dklsjfklsd fuckk

anyways at the end of the meeting we present awards to recognize the designers of that quarter and i got an award! my award was "the atlas" for holding up so much of the work on the visual team BUT I DIDN'T FUCKEN SHOW IT!!! its so embarrassing to be award this thing that i can't prove in that meeting at all!! i mean yeah i worked hard and a ton last quarter but i thought i had to talk about products released that quarter not upcoming work (the rest of it will be released in Q3/Q4). i just know everyone's literally like what the fuck?? how does she win something when she only showed a half assed presentation of something that isn't what she owns?? ok maybe not quite so harsh but everyone must be HELLA confused?? im so ??????

i will say i had a meeting w the director prior and he said that he mentioned to my manager that i've been doing so much work and both agreed to give me a monetary bonus so i thought a pay check bump but if its just this award then i'm not quite happy ?? (i SWEAR i am grateful for of course but uhh its just a gift card to our choice of store!!!)

making me rethink a bunch again. how can i do so much work and yet show NONE OF IT??? none of which is something interesting to show??? i am having mix feelings here and i don't know how much of this i can take. i think i am still nervous about doing more than necessary but at the same time i NEED to do something that matters. its always embarrassing when quarter all hands meeting comes along because im absolutely stumped on what i've spent all these hours on. everyone has sooo much to show and talk about and im just here like _____ blank. i do dumb label updates and shit but it doesn't amount to presentation worthy presentation. im so mad at myself and mad at my colleague for not encouraging me to show much but im definitely mad at myself. i gotta pay attention to all i do and SHOW IT. i gotta stop fucking around and demand my worth.

anyways i feel embarrassed and quite frankly i don't feel like i deserved that award. i should be showing these things. i will say im excited for Q3 meeting cuz then i'll show a BUNCH of work regardless of how ordinary it is because its me!! i did it!!

[cabin12kid]

I haven't technically finished the epilogues but I need to vent some Lost Metal feelings.

Also apologies I spouted shit on Twitter too forgetting I could do so one here with spoilers better tagged/hidden.

Also belatedly will add spoilers for Oathbringer and Rhythm of War.

So off the bat I just want to say Wayne just died for me and I'm not even finished with Marasi's epilogue and I'm still upset so that'll likely color all of this.

Genuinely though? This book sucked for me as a cosmere fan. I joke how I just chose the wrong bitches with Elhokar and Teft but like... This is becoming a consistent thing.

Having a character go through their arc and then die at the end of that book has never been satisfying to me. Having them die in a gut-wrenching dramatic way doesn't do any extra good for me, it actively makes the situation worse.

Elhokar's death was meant to be this could-have-been tragedy, and I admit that most of my personal feelings on it are incredibly biased options. Detaching from my attachment to Elhokar, I can see how this was a fairly well done tragedy. Allowing for a bit of attachment though, but not completely flying into a blind biased rage, I do however feel that it was unnecessary. I understand not wanting to bring back too many characters lest death feel cheap, but I still feel like Elhokar would have served better as an example of how people can grow in that series.

Teft is by far the worst out of all of these for me. His arc was incredibly fucking rushed and felt like an afterthought most of the time. We saw him take a huge, powerful, emotional step in Oathbringer, only for his presence in Rhythm of War to feel very "all better now!" and not having much further use for him, killing him off. Personally, I feel like we already understood the horror of this new weapon through Navani. And Moash using this to further press Kaladin into literally offing himself-- actually that's a separate rant. The biggest thing though, is it-- to me-- left Teft's death ultimately feeling cheap. I could see it coming a mile away, it felt like this character was thrown away, and ultimately I don't think it was fucking necessary? Like I genuinely would not have been this mad if Teft had just randomly been pushed to the background. Which fucking sucks. That is NOT the kind of emotions I think you want readers to feel for what should have been an emotional character death.

With Elhokar I felt cheated, but I understood. With Teft, I felt even more cheated and felt his whole arc was simply discarded. Mentally thinking the I Don't Want To Play With You Anymore levels of discarded.

Now, Wayne. This wasn't nearly as bad as Teft and he was given more time than Elhokar. But for me it still suffers the same problem. I'm repeating myself, but having a character go through their arc only for them to end up dead isn't inherently satisfying. Quite frankly, as I write this, I am so gutted that I don't really care what happens next. There were so many interesting possibilities posed throughout this book both for Scadrial and the rest of the cosmere, but quite frankly I don't have it in me to care. I'm gutted. I feel too much despair (and disappointment as well as anger) to bring myself to care. And hopefully that'll change as I take time to process but like? Genuinely?

Elhokar made me want to stop my OB read for a month. Teft almost made me put down the cosmere for good. Wayne? I've resigned myself to be too interested in the world building and writing lessons to put down the cosmere, but genuinely I'm worried I won't actually, deeply care about the stories or the characters going forward. It'll be interesting, but more like watching a lecture for a subject I kinda like instead of really feeling the universe. Investing in it, if I may. And as such... Lost Metal was a bust for me.

Again I hope my feelings change as I go through it, but this...sucks. plain and simple.

This feeling definitely dropped a whole star for me. It made me genuinely disappointed in the writing, which I hate to say and cannot stress enough hope I get over but like. Genuinely I no longer trust Sanderson to write deaths. Period. I'll probably try to make a separate posts on the deaths that were fucking great and satisfying despite being equally gutting but I need to grieve. But there is one other problem.

Honestly? A good portion of this book felt like I was reading a cosmere textbook with a gun to my head. Or a manual to stop the detonation. Like. There are TONS of really cool and interesting tie ins for the rest of the cosmere. The Emperor's Soul is my favorite Cosmere work so this was a huge fucking W for me. But also? It felt... Too much. And like. Yeah they were necessary in the situations they were put in, but they didn't feel strictly necessary.

This was an infinity war type mash up I was hoping for, but in the end it just felt... Too much. Like there wasn't ever time to really process everything. It was one punch after another and no time to like. Appreciate any of it.

I'm burning out tho and that's basically all I can say without going in circles but yeah as it stands, unfortunately, this not only has to be the worst Mistborn Era 2 book for me it also is sitting at an even 3/5 stars.

[theomnicode]

I'm still here with the "Saitama takes Garou under his wing" cuz Saitama can extremely heavily relate with Garou's circumstances since Garou isn't far out from the woods yet. Oh and because their dynamic is underutilized.

Same reasons he took Genos as disciple, all Garou needs is a backstory telling and Saitama literally can't help but listen and do something about it and EVERYONE who is emotionally lonely does this to Saitama. It's satire about the fact that INFJ as personality type are so approachable that everyone finds them very easy to talk to, so sometimes people pour out things to them they wouldn't tell other people (WC Garou pouring his heart out to Sai) and the personality is often seen as a therapist to other people as well and their common vocational occupation is a psychotherapist. Sai was gonna sit him down and face to face therapy him up anyway, so it seems inevitable.

The only catalyst needed is well, Garou facing the full extent of the consequences he has wrought by going on his hero hunt crusade. He may not hold the blame for everything, but he has to take responsibility.

So I wouldn't think it's super farfetched that Genos would be kind of forced to either grudgingly make acquaintances with Garou or move out. I don't find it likely Genos would want to separate from Saitama. I don't see a reason why Genos would otherwise approach Garou or give a damn about his circumstances.

But it would do Genos a lot of good to make friends with people his own age and maybe his peers since Garou was projected to become S-rank hero immediately. The only other peer there roughly his age would be Metal Bat and there is a lot they can all relate with in terms of losing connections with their parents and family. Genos just won't have any motivation to try and connect with his peers on his own. But since Genos remembers the moon instance extremely well, he may be projecting these feelings onto Garou whom he had previously tried to well, kill.

If Genos thinks Garou is both a threat to Saitama's well-being and competing for his attention like he thinks all other disciple-wannabes would do, he would plot to end Garou before this can come to pass and stay very close to Saitama in case Garou tries anything untoward. Just in case, he's gonna try and cover his bases. He thinks he's a repeat offender after all, so there is no lost love there or trust. Unlike Saitama who believes Garou can turn a new leaf.

Just some motivation to keep an eye on Garou...so he doesn't go unchecked and suddenly pull a repeat of Mad cyborg on him. And there's no way Genos would let such a person run away and disappear on him, not this time.

Quite a point of tension in their relationship, among others. Saitama wanting to help Garou and Genos wanting to kill him. And who doesn't love a good drama. Garou's role there might be the same as fake-garou here offering tea, balm for the soul to soothe their nerves and their insecurities and fears about their relationship by simply butting in their life, because neither has initiated anything, afraid of crossing that boundary. Saitama always offers tea in form of hospitality.

(Everyone knows that Saitama and Genos are the best sellers and their relationship has been quite lacking in focus for a while lol, so gimme that slice of life)

A hilarious thing that might happen is Saitama telling Genos he needs to mentor Garou into becoming a hero lmao. Since Saitama can't be both a mentor and a therapist. Genos also believes Saitama is the only one with the right to decide how to deal with Garou, so if Saitama told him to do it because he heavily trusts in Genos' sense of heroism rather than his own, he might just do it. And someone needs to keep an eye on Garou just for the association and police alone and frankly, it would need to be an S-rank hero if Bang also retires. Or...something happens to Bang and he can't mentor Garou anymore.

Thinking of how often one is never quite sure of what Genos will do, even though it ends up making sense in retrospect, I may as well go out on a limb and predict the weirdest thing for the future chapters of the manga.

He befriends Garou. For real. Of his own free will. Why? Because Garou looked like he needed one. And also... but that's for Genos to know and everyone else to find out later.

And yeah, Garou could use a friend, so it's all good.

Bonus

Live sensei reaction:

...no, you're never going to understand that guy

[kissandkilll]

Today (after watching Heathers yet again in nearly a three year gap), I decided to write on their relationship. One thing I've always said is that although they look good aesthetically, they are so very very bad for each other. I've always admired their characters separately and even in my fan edits, I'd stress how I don't ship or idolize them because quite frankly, they're really really messy.

So upon watching this yet again today, I've decided to outline the terrible manipulative ways of their relationship.

Okay. Here we go.

He slowly isolated her from her friends to the point her herself did not realise the negative implications of their relationship. Yes, Veronica's friends were crappy as they come, but J.D used that as a stepping stone to further convince her to "take a vacation" as he states in the film. Truthfully, they could have been the perfect group of friends, and if Veronica so much as mentioned one crappy thing they did, he'd point her in the exact same direction.

This is an obvious one but he basically broke into her room through her window that same night she went to the party. Yes he's gorgeous, but very very creepy. Again, the naivety in Veronica made her brush that off also.

Heather's death was the start of hell. It was a test. Nothing more. He wanted to see how far he could push Veronica. After all, Heather's death was no accident, he did realise Veronica picked the wrong cup. Point is, he saw how easily she was pushed around by the Heathers despite always saying she hated being around them. He knew her flaw was saying one thing and doing the complete opposite out of being a coward to stand up for herself. To him, she was nothing but an easy target who just so happens to be his type.

The lies. The bullet lie. Admittedly, the average seventeen year old would laugh at you if you state that "the bullet I'm about to use won't actually kill you, but instead would just graze your skin and you'd become unconscious, only to wake up". Obviously this is an exaggerated and painfully obvious lie, but it speaks to us in our real life experiences. That time when we got screwed over terribly by our narcissistic ex, and believed things we rightfully shouldn't have if we indeed had a brain encased in our skull.

The gas lighting. Three years ago, I had no idea this was a thing. J.D would tell Veronica "deep down you knew you wanted to kill them, you were just pretending" blah blah blah, when in reality, all Veronica wanted to part take in was some harmless revenge. He would try to convince her that she wanted to kill people and that he was somehow doing her a favor by helping her execute the plan.

Lastly, the forced kisses. It was seen throughout the film, how many times he'd force himself on Veronica and even hold her down to kiss him. It's a control thing. He gets off on that I guess. You do what I say, or I get mad. Even when he tried to kill her, yet again, it goes back to control. He wanted no one else to have her. He isolated her and when she started making sense of his psychopathic behavior, he wanted to end her life, like he wanted to end his.

There are some other things he did eg; when he lit his cigarette in Veronica's hand. Admittedly, the first time watching the film, I thought that scene was hot. Yikes. But what else do we expect from a teenage boy with a suicidal mom (whom he had to witness commit the act) and a deranged dad who had a warped interest in seeing things being destroyed. Nothing good can come of that.

So why do we love Jason Dean so much? Because admist all the bullshit and the psychopathic actions, we see a person. A guy who was neglected by his family, not shown love and as a result, couldn't give love in a healthy way... And his appearance and charm is what glued us all in. Pair empathy and chiseled features together and you would begin to rationalize any heinous act. It's a fact. Psychopaths are so unappealing in real life, but when it's played out like it usually is in the movies, we can't help but fall in love.

[zuzkyblog-blog]

You Can Tell Me (Credence Barebone x Reader)

Summary: Reader, a younger sister of Jacob Kowalski, is in a relationship with Credence. Over the time spent together he overcame some of his problems and turned into a much more cheerful and open person, and is totally comfortable with you. Now that he is more or less alright, he begins to worry about your own problems, although you never share your troubles with him. He decides to do something about it.

Pairing: Credence Barebone x Reader

Word Count: 4166 (sorry?)

Warnings: TOO MUCH FLUFF. A lot of it. Mentions of stress and possibly a hint at eating disorder (?), some smutty undertones at the end (more like naughty fluff though) 

Comment: This imagine is dedicated to all the creatures that have problems dealing with stress at work, school or just life in general, and have no one to share their worries with. I know I am one. Also, happy Credence is what I breathe for.

It's difficult to describe how relieved you were when you finally reached the front door of your apartment at quarter past eight in the evening. The day you spent in the office was getting the best of you, squeezing you dry as if you were a juicy lemon used to prepare fresh lemonade. Every day was the same and it was getting progressively worse. The pressure and responsibility you had to deal with on daily basis was too much to bear and it quickly started to show on your personal life.

You entered your apartment, took of your coat and switched your heels with comfy slippers, and followed the delicious smell coming from the kitchen. Resting your exhausted body against the doorframe, you glued your (y/e/c) gaze to the back of your significant other, Credence Barebone. You watched him cook for a while. His movements were a bit disorganised and panicky, but he was always like that when he tried to manage many things at once.

"Hey," you said quietly and he jerked and dropped a wooden spoon into a pot with chicken soup. The soup splashed against his apron and the wall, leaving oily stains. It was both adorable and funny and normally you'd laugh like mad, but you weren't exactly in a mood for that.

"Geez, (y/n), you've startled me," he frowned at first, but was just for a show and his glare was quickly switched with one of his adorable smiles.

"I'm sorry," you apologised and watched him as he quickly walked over to you to give you a peck on the lips.

"I missed you," he murmured and once he heard a soft, obligatory purr from you, he returned to the stove. "The dinner will be ready in half an hour, maybe a bit longer," Credence informed you and asked, "how was work today?"

"I-I… don't want to talk about it," you mumbled, dropping your chin to your chest. You were glad you got home to your love, but you wished you wouldn't bring all the stress with you. Credence didn't look at you, but he stopped moving for a while, knowing too well what was going on. "I'll take a bath or something."

That was the last thing you'd said before leaving the kitchen.

You and Credence have been living together for slightly over a year now. Last year during the autumn you were searching for someone to share your apartment with to split the costs. You were originally thinking about finding a girl your age, but it turned out completely different when your older brother Jacob asked you to consider taking Credence in. Reluctant at first, you knew you wouldn't be able to say no as soon as you saw him.

Things were tough at first; there was a plenty of small and bigger misunderstandings and as you slowly got to know the boy, you realised how troubled he really was. Soon enough, he opened his heart to you and you two fell madly in love. As you nurtured his closed-off personality with your feelings and care, he turned into a different person. He was still shy and mistrusting, but also much more cheerful and open to you and your friends.

The thing is, as Credence's confidence and self-reliance grew, he began to notice your own problems. He knew your daily job in the office was getting really hard on you lately. You were a bit of a perfectionist, but the need for perfection came hand in hand with very low stress tolerance. To be honest, he strongly believed you should just quit your job and get one that would be less stressing to you. After all, Jacob had offered to employ you in his prospering bakery. You'd get to meet a lot of nice people AND you would work together with Credence, as he was helping Jacob with baking.

Unfortunately, you were also stubborn and secretive one. Credence knew he could never persuade you to do anything unless you saw the reason behind it and made the final decision on your own. That's why he never spoke to you about it, and when you got home feeling terrible - often with your eyes red from crying - he never approached you to cheer you up. He had no idea how.

Yet for the last week it felt like the situation with your job was getting worse and he couldn't ignore your sulking any longer. Today was the last straw. When he was nearly finished cooking, he decided to give you about five minutes to leave the bathroom and when you wouldn't come out, he mustered all his courage, approached the door and knocked.

"W-What?" he heard your startled voice. It was shaking and coarse; you'd obviously been crying your heart out.

"The dinner's ready."

"Honey, eat without me. I'm not really hungry," you replied dismissively. You wished he left you alone. After all he'd been through it felt wrong to push your troubles on him.

"Can I come in?" Credence asked, his hand tentatively resting on the door handle.

"I'm—I'm naked," you panicked, blurting out the first silly excuse that came to your mind. Yes, occasionally it felt like your brain was melting down under all that stress.

"I… I know. We sleep together. I've seen you before," Credence replied and you could say by the sound of his voice that he was smiling.

"Alright then," you sighed and sank deeper into cotton candy-like foam surrounding you, prepared to avoid any eye contact. He entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him as if he tried to separate you both from the outside world.

"Can I?" he pointed at the edge of the bathtub as he walked up to you. It was maddening how he always asked for your consent. Always. It didn't matter if you were cleaning the apartment together or shared a steamy, intimate moment in bed. He would always ask.

"Sure," you nodded and exhaled into the water, creating a few bubbles. As you managed to steal a few peeks at him while he sat on the bathtub, you noticed how peaceful and gentle the expression on his face was. You wondered what he wanted from you.

"What's the matter, doll?" he asked after a few never-ending seconds of silence. Despite high temperature of water in the tub, a single shiver ran down your spine. He'd started using these affectionate nicknames fairly recently and you still didn't get used to it. It was doing weird things to you and frankly speaking, you had a creeping suspicion he was aware of that and used it on purpose.

"It's just my job…," you started and then remembered what you'd said earlier. "But I don't want to talk about it," you added stubbornly. Credence sighed.

"Why not?" His voice sounded so patient and caring. You felt it was slowly cracking the little shell you hid yourself in.

"It—It's none of your concern, Credence," you objected and your eyes met for a few seconds before you looked away again. His gaze was hypnotising.

"You were crying," he said after another silence.

"I wasn't, I'm just tired," you shook your head. Credence could tell the difference between your eyes looking tired and flat-out weepy, but your stubborn self just wouldn't give up, would it? He needed to make another step, closing the gap between you.

He leaned down a little, reaching to you. His fingertips grazed your shoulder and followed your arm to your wrist, till they finally nestled in the palm of your hand, and then he pulled your hand out of the water. Gently squeezing your hand, he carefully observed your face for any reaction. A few droplets of tears ran down your cheeks before you could stop them. Credence inhaled sharply. He rarely saw you cry and he couldn't decide if it was disheartening or magical. Probably a bit of both.

"Come on. You can tell me what's wrong. I'll listen," he encouraged you again. All of a sudden your limp fingers woke up and finally squeezed his hand back.

"Oh Credence," you sniffled, "I can't. It really isn't your concern. I don't want to pull you into my personal mess. Y-You've been through so much and this… this is my own problem." You brought his hand to your face and pressed a little kiss against his pale skin. Solitary tears  now turned into full streams as you couldn't hold them back any longer. "I'm sorry," you mumbled, and felt horribly ugly and pathetic.

Credence rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb comfortingly. He remembered all the nights he was choking on tears while you held him close, played with his hair and gently massaged his back, and the countless occasions when he was sulking about something and you kept him company, slowly making him open to you and share his thoughts and worries.

And after all that, you didn't want to share your own problems with him? He wanted to be there for you. He wanted to repay his debt, even though he knew you'd never accept it. Hell, even if you were just depressed about nasty weather, he wished to hear all about it.

"You are my concern," he whispered, leaned down and kissed your forehead. A small cloud of bath foam stuck to his hair. No more bowl-cuts; his hair was much longer than before, dark and unruly.

"A-Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden to you," you whimpered comfortably as he caressed your wet hair.

"You could never become a burden," he smiled and kissed you on your lips this time. You found yourself stretching your neck to meet the kiss, like a flower following the sun. "So, will you tell me what's the matter?" he posed the same question again and started to undress out of the blue. It took him only a few seconds to get all his clothes off and climb into the bathtub in front of you.

"C-Credence! W-Wait, the water!" you giggled as he dipped down, pushing water out of the bathtub as he submerged himself. It spilled out and completely drenched a pile of his clothes on the floor.

"Oh, I… I haven't thought of that," he murmured, his confidence flying out of the window. He so wished to be a caring, sexy confident guy for you at least once, not this silly, clumsy and stuttering love-struck fool he'd been ever since he saw you.

"You're too much, Credence," you laughed and pulled him closer, pressing his right cheek to your chest. He marvelled at the sound of your laughter, but he didn't want to stay in this position for too long, or you'd turn all protective and forget about your determination to tell him what's wrong.

"I wanted to… wait…," he got up, realising he climbed into the bathtub on the wrong side of your body. He meant to end up behind your back. You immediately blushed because you got a clear view of his crotch as he stood in the bath tub.

"W-What are you doing, honey?!" you whined when Credence literally stepped over your head, making you switch positions. His plan to pull off his big 'supportive and caring boyfriend' act required him to rest his back against the bathtub so you could rest your back against his chest in turn. Stepping over your head might not be the best way to initiate it.

"T-There, all set," he purred happily as he finally got into the position he wanted. "You big dork," you chuckled a bit nervously as he hugged you from behind and pulled you to his chest. There was a certain amount of hesitation as you were unsure about the unusual situation, but soon you gave in to his warmth and allowed him to have his way with you. Looking down your body, you watched as it lied between his bent legs, and your heart was beating violently in your chest.

"This is quite nice," you commented eventually and slowly placed your palms on his knees as if they were armrests.

"Now you can tell me why you were crying," he whispered in your ear. You took a deep breath. Credence knew it meant you had to eat through a huge portion of reluctance. "Take your time," he cooed.

You did. It took more than five minutes and a lot of comforting touches and sweet words before you finally opened up, but once you started, it was impossible to stop you. You told him everything.

How your boss was a real tyrant; how he kept giving you more and more tasks and although you knew you were good at what you were doing, you couldn't deal with the heavy burden of responsibility; how you often forgot to eat snacks Credence prepared for you every morning at work and how it broke your heart to throw it away on your way home, but you always did it anyway because bringing it home and seeing his disappointed face was even worse; how you were basically starving for the last few days because you couldn't eat anything without throwing up...

Credence listened and listened as you turned into a shivering pile of tears and sobs. He'd never seen you so vulnerable before, but he was glad you allowed him to see you at your lowest point. Now that he knew what was going on, he could help you deal with it.

"A-And that's about it, I g-guess," you stuttered when you were sure you didn't forget anything. The guilt you felt about some of the things, especially throwing away Credence's snacks, was making you feel sick even now, but you were also quite relieved you'd told him. You knew he wouldn't judge you.

"Thank you," Credence said pensively and nuzzled the right side of his face to your left ear.

"Aren't you… Aren't you mad?" you wondered; surprised he didn't even sound disappointed.

"I'm not," he replied and squeezed your chest from behind. "But you know you have to eat, right?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "But--"

"Remember when I moved in?" he jumped in.

"Of course I do. You refused to eat because of the unfamiliar environments," you said. Credence stopped nuzzling to your ear and snickered. "What? That's what Newt said!" you frowned. You clearly remembered Newt talking about Credence's timid demeanour as if he was one of his magical creatures.

"Actually, I couldn't eat because I was so nervous about living with you. You were one of the nicest people I'd ever met and I thought you looked pretty from the start. And I guess it affected me a lot," he laughed. You turned your head as far as you could just to see his laughing face. Credence took the chance and pressed a sweet kiss against the corner of your eyebrow.

"That's so adorable," you droned and relaxed in his embrace even more.

"(Y/N), I was thinking about it, and… if your job stresses you so much, why don't you just get rid of it?" he proposed and laced his fingers into your own.

"Oh, I can't, sweetheart. I have a lot on my plate, true,  but the money is really good. I wouldn't be able to make such money anywhere else," you argued.

"Is it really worth it?" he sighed. "Mr. Kowalski has offered you a position in the bakery, right?"

"He has, but I've spoken to him about it already. I can't afford to lose my current job," you mumbled. Just thinking about the office and a mountain of paperwork was giving you headache.

"Why? It's not like we need that much money anyway," Credence said. It felt dull to argue about it. Money wasn't everything, was it? So why were you so bent on your current salary?

"W-We don't, that's right," you admitted and took a deep breath. "I-I wanted to keep it a secret, but I guess it can't be helped. You see, I'm trying to save money for a little house somewhere in the countryside or maybe for travels."

"R-Really?" Credence gasped. Both options sounded amazing. He thought about it for a second as you looked back and enjoyed all the excitement in his face, till it suddenly died out. "I still think you should quit," he decided and the resolution in his voice made you shudder.

"B-But think about it, babe! We could go to Europe, pay Newt a visit, see all the nice places… I've heard Paris is really nice! Or we could settle down in a small house with a big garden, keep all sorts of animals, we would grow our own vegetables and fruits, eventually we'd get kids…," you spilt out all your ideas and dreams and then corrected yourself: "W-Well, maybe not kids, but you get my point, right?"

Credence was blushing about your mention of children. It was a lovely idea, one that had crossed his mind before in a rather wild dream, but it still belonged to a far-off future. He had to concentrate on matters at hand - how to make sure the love of his life doesn't break down because of her job?

"I get your point, doll," he said softly when he thought about it for a second, "but my point is… I would rather see you smile every day than have you come home crying late in the evenings just for some extra money, you know?"

Your chest tightened at his words. You still had your plans and dreams, but what he'd just said deeply affected you.

"I don't deserve you," you murmured in disbelief. Credence chuckled and tickled your belly.

"Just promise you'll give Mr. Kowalski's offer another thought, ok?" he asked and you simply nodded, which didn't make him very happy. "Come on, say it," he prodded. You sighed as if it was some kind of bother.

"I promise I'll give my brother's offer another thought," you chanted and then looked at him. "Happy?"

"Happy," he smiled and his hands unexpectedly travelled south, past your navel, reaching a small triangle of curly hairs.

"Credence," you whimpered his name as his fingers slipped between your folds. He knew your sweet spots very well by now.

"Relax, doll," he purred into your ear like a big tomcat, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves. That nickname again! You swear he had to do it on purpose.

Even if you wanted to reject his advances at first, it seemed utterly impossible now that he began to pleasure you, or so you thought. Then, your nose noticed an unpleasant smell mixing with the lavender of the scented bath foam, a smell of burning meat.

"H-Honey, did you turn off the oven?" you asked just to be sure. His movements stopped and you could feel all his body stiffen under you.

"O-Oh no!" he whined and started to clumsily climb out of the bathtub, carefully pushing you away in the process. You began to giggle because his face was bright red, and when he finally got out of the tub, he ran off to the kitchen completely naked.

You finished bathing and got out as well, putting a dressing gown on. All the windows of the apartment were open wide to get rid of all the smelly smoke. He was still naked and apparently oblivious about it as he was taking care of the burnt chicken. He looked a bit like he was about to cry.

"Need my help, Mr. Barebum?" you joked as you approached from behind, placing a hand against one of his butt cheeks.

"T-That's not funny, (y/n)," he mewled and desperately checked if there was any part of the chicken that was still edible.

"I mean it, let me take care of it. Hurry, put something on or you'll catch cold," you smiled at him and patted his butt cheek playfully. He sighed and all of a sudden hugged you.

"I messed up," Credence uttered and rested his chin on your shoulder.

"It happens. Let's make a salad instead," you calmed him down. Having his naked body pressed against yours was so nice you could stay like that for hours.

"A salad… I wanted you to eat a proper meal this evening," he complained and looked at you.

"My stomach is still a bit tense, it's probably better if I start with simpler meals," you explained. He put on a disapproving expression for a second. Quickly realising you might get sad about it, he smiled instead, but you've noticed his little disagreeing pout right away. Of course you starving yourself worried him, but you wished to leave the things you had discussed in the bathroom - for now.

"Besides," you grinned, one of your hands moved from his lower back to his lower front, found his manhood and gave it a light squeeze. "I'll have the main course later, in the bedroom." You said those words in one of your sexiest tones while giving his penis a few delicate strokes. Feeling it come to life in your hand was truly a divine feeling.

"(Y/N)," he gasped for air as you set his cheeks aflame. "C-Can we maybe skip the salad?" he asked eagerly. When your eyes met his, you saw passion and lust.

"Nope, the salad comes first. You wanted me to eat something," you teased him and let go of his dick. "Now go and put something on!"

"Meanie," he frowned, pressed his lips to your forehead and then finally did as you instructed.

You watched him scuttle around the apartment in search for his pyjama or something else he could quickly put on. He looked so funny, running around with a boner. Your cheeks started to hurt because of your wide, happy grin. He'd come a long way from the timid, scaredy cat-like boy that crossed the threshold of your apartment a year ago. And in all honesty, it felt like you'd come a long way too.

*a month later*

"Good morning, how may I help you?" you greeted a pair of young boys, street ruffians that were surely up to no good, from behind a bakery counter. You nervously squeezed the cash register, your throat choking. Even though you'd quitted your office job and started working in your brother's bakery, you still couldn't deal with stressing situations very well.

"Hey, missy. We want the fat one," one of the boys said and the other one laughed. You frowned and came to the display where the store kept some of Jacob's weirder creations.

"The one that looks like a rhinoceros or the duck-mole thing?" you asked with a shaking voice.

"No, THE FAT ONE!" the kid repeated.

"L-Listen, I d-don't know what you mean," you mumbled nervously.

"Are you dumb or something?" the second boy asked.

"H-Hey, I'm not dumb," you looked away, completely forgetting about your job.

"Where's the fat one?" the first kid insisted and you got a hint about what he really meant.

"Guys, no bullying!" you heard from behind your back. Turning after the voice, you saw Credence leaning against the doorframe. His hair was tied in a messy short ponytail and covered with a cap, and his left cheek was smeared with flour. The image immediately refreshed you.

"Oh! Hi Credence," boys cheered in unison, remembering the young man from days long gone when he helped to feed them with Mary Lou Barebone.

"Mr. Kowalski's not here today," he explained, "he has a delivery to manage."

You chuckled at his play with words. It was true, Jacob had a delivery to manage - a delivery of his first born child.

"That sucks. Who's this anyway?" the first boy gestured towards you. Credence reached for a paper bag lying in a basket by the door. It was full of yesterday's leftovers that didn't sell.

"Mr. Kowalski's sister," he replied and handed the paper bag over to the boys.

"Oh wow! The fat one has a sister?! I had no clue!" the second boy beamed and looked at you with newly discovered admiration. Credence came over to you and kissed you on a cheek.

"Gross!" both boys pretended to get sick and then laughed. "Anyway, thanks! We'll be back tomorrow!"

As quickly as they came, they were gone. You stood next to the cash register and seemed frozen solid as you tried to calm down from the meeting. When you stilled your heart, you looked at Credence, your mouth opening to spew your worries at him.

"I know what you want to say," he spoke before you could. "You're doing just fine. Trust me on this one." His words left you frozen again, your mouth agape. It took a few seconds before you processed them and relaxed.

"Alright," you smiled, came closer and embraced him, getting your clothes dirty from  flour. You had come a long way and knew that with him by your side, you could walk to the edge of the world.

***

Moral of the story? Remember, sometimes it’s the best idea to take a step back.