#this is all to say I do in fact send every piece of evidence to my friends with the hope of word spreading

[monards]

hater but in the refined way where I’ll scream about it in DMs or vague posts but not really confront or directly hate on you publicly bc idgaf about you to THAT extent

[atskiruma]

his attempts at courting you

expl: he finds himself thinking about you more often, wanting to seek you out consistently, and giving you numerous gifts every day to see you smile

a/n: it has come to my attention that the last ff i wrote, (snow day) was not very well depicted for all readers to enjoy, i want to apologize for that and promise that i will get better at trying to make sure everyone is able to read it and enjoy it, my writings are targeted for all | unfortunately, i can not edit it right now seeing as there's a poll going on, but once that poll is finished i will change my wording in the ff

ask me anything masterlist

second person writing no pronouns used

Zhongli often felt himself thinking about you more often while he was working around the parlor. Even seeking out your name in conversations and listening more attentively when someone was speaking about you. It didn't confuse him though, he was aware of his interest in you.

You opened up the warmth in his heart and welcomed him kindly every time you two saw each other. It made him happy to see you happy, and this was evident when flowers were delivered directly to your door one sunny afternoon.

"These are for you," The mail lady said before turning around and walking away to do more deliveries. You didn't even get to ask who they were from before she was gone. Staring down at the bouquet of tiger lilies in front of you, you could only assume that the bright orange and black colors could depict a certain someone's hair color.

It was a nice piece on your kitchen counter and went well with the other decorations spiraling around your house. That was, until the next morning, you were greeted again with another gift. A bright orange vase to compliment the tiger lilies you received the other day. It was funny, why was he going out of his way to send you such nice gifts?

You finally managed to confront him when you saw Childe and Zhongli sitting together on the seats of an outside cafe. Walking over and waving to the both of them. They greeted you back, and small talk was given for only a couple minutes.

"I actually came over here to thank Zhongli," This caught his attention, and he turned to look up at you, "I really loved the flowers you sent and the vase goes really well with them too!" You said while smiling.

He nodded back at you, seemingly collecting himself extremely quickly at the fact you figured out so quick who it was. "I'm glad you liked them," He said.

"I came to give you this in return," You said," "I know it's probably not as extravagant as the ones you gave me, but I like it." Handing over the small gift box, he opened it and smiled softly at the item. It was a small keychain, nothing special, and it was decorated with a lovely orange seem.

That same keychain would be hung up right next to his bedframe, along with variant letters you sent him on the table accompanying it.

Diluc was someone who took courting another person seriously. He found it tradition since his father had spoken so much of it when Diluc was younger. He always wanted to treat the one he loved with respect and be as much of a gentleman as possible.

This was why you were taking a stroll with him through his grapevines on a sunny afternoon. He offered for you to come down to the Winery a couple days ago and you had just gotten around to accepting his offer. His hand rested on your back as he took you through multiple different paths and explained everything. As you strolled, he talked about things concerning the vine, his profits, the seasons they needed to be planted, etc.

You smiled at him, knowing it was something he took dear to his heart, and listened very attentively to what he was saying. In reality, Diluc was really hoping that all he was talking about didn't bore you in any way.

Then, the next couple of hours were spent sitting in his large dining room, eating food made by the cooks in his home. It was nice, and you were very happy that he wanted to spend this much time with you. Diluc even found himself watching you eat here and there, asking you if the food was good or if you needed anything else in the time being.

After everything was over, and the night sky shined over the two of you as you stood outside his doors, he leaned down and pressed a small kiss to your hand. Telling you how much of a pleasure it was to have you here, and how he wished you could stay longer.

Diluc even offered to walk you home, tediously not taking no for an answer, he reached down to take your hand and hold it the whole walk home.

Alhaitham was very closed off when he first met you, he was closed off with anyone in general. He found it strange that you always seemed to be there when he was thinking about you, and when his eyes would try and search a room in the akademiya for you.

He realized that something had to be done about this, so, he did what any other raging nerd would do, and researched about it.

You also found it odd when you'd see him looking at you from across the library, or holding the door open for you whenever you'd walking behind him. Alhaitham always seemed like the guy who only cared about his own, yet he was so evident in helping you out here and there.

Helping you when you'd be confused about a book, rewording your essays to make them better. Alhaitham seemed to want to assist you with almost everything. This was no different than today.

You found yourself back at the library looking down at a long-written parchment on the forest rangers' activities. Trying to figure out how you could make this work in the essay you were conducting on Sumeru's forest.

This was when you heard the chair scrap right next to you, and looked up from where you had originally been focused. Alhaitham took his seat next to you, slightly taking up more space than necessary with his manspreading.

"Do you need help with that? It looks like a longer report than usual for you."

"Longer than usual?" You shot back, "Are you saying that I'm not capable of reading this?" His eyes widened a bit and he instantly tried to retort his original statement. "No, no, I thought- Well- You know you usually read shorter reports in order to get more details. I didn't think you'd take something this large to account."

His confession made you smile, and you leaned in closer, "How'd you know how I like my reports?" At the response with your cheeky grin, a blush formed on his cheeks before he looked away.

"Scholars are supposed to be attentive, it's natural to know a few things you prefer in order to work best with you."

The response he sent back your way caused you to roll your eyes and turn back to what you were originally doing. "To answer your question, no, I do not need help, but thank you for offering."

That didn't seem to make him budge, because he kept sitting there watching you copy down and write words from the book.

"You misspelled climate."

The sound of a book colliding with his head echoed throughout the library.

Ayato enjoyed your company, a lot, so much that he seeks you out anytime he and his sister go down to festivals or strolls through the city. He always wanted to start up a conversation with you, and if anyone else walked by anytime he'd be down there, Ayato would be right next to you listening with a smile at whatever you said.

Ayaka loved you too and found it amusing that her brother was so interested in you. She often found herself trying to spark up conversations with you, asking if her older brother proposed yet in a joking manner.

You laughed it off, Ayato was nice but you were sure he had other rich and important people to concern his love life with. He was just a very nice man to talk with here and there, and you didn't seem to notice that you were one of the few he'd actually seek out.

That was, until, every time he saw you, he came with some form of jewelry or expensive item to give you. Asking you how your day was, what you were doing, and if you wanted to come to spend some time up at the estate with him.

"What about Ayaka?" You said with a tilt of your head in confusion. He smiled back and said, "I'm sure she'd rather stay down here and explore more of the shops.

Ayaka would have loved to come along, but before she could even turn around, the two of you were already heading back up to the estate.

He catered to you, made sure you were comfortable, and even asked if you'd like anything from his personal chefs. It was a bit much to handle, seeing as you weren't used to living so luxurious, but he was very nice about it all and understood.

The catering didn't stop after that day either, more and more people began to wonder why the Kamisato siblings were spending so much more time outside their palace. Ayaka once mentioned that you loved a certain color, and the next day Ayato was handing you a box with that color, and a necklace with the pearl containing that color too.

He even found himself marching over to you when he saw someone speaking to you in a more flirtatious matter. Moving next to you and asking if everything was alright while his hand wrapped around your own.

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎'𝐬! 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 reacts to...cheater! reader

Request made by Anon:

Hi! I just read your post about yan 1950 house husband, it's amazing. Can you write his reaction if reader cheated on him? If you don't feel comfortable with this ask, feel free to ignore this.  Remember to take care of yourself and have a nice day.

Hello to you too, dear Anon,

First of all, I must apologize but your request suddenly disappeared from my inbox! Thankfully, I have the content of your request saved in my google docs so I pasted it above. 

Putting that aside, although this topic is sensitive to some, I am fine with writing about that. 

I appreciate your words. It's very nice of you to think about little ol' me. I wish you a nice day too (even if it's not a daytime)!

Thank you and I hope to hear from you soon!

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 x [CHEATER!] reader (gender not specified/mentioned/implied), your lovers genger isn't specified/mentioned/implied either. Don't be swayed by the curses used to describe them; Tw. cheating/indifelity from the reader, cursing, description of a m*urder, delusion (delulu is the solulu), emotional manipulation, gaslightning; A/N: As a person, I do not support this kind of behavior. This is only a piece of fiction, serving for entertaining purposes only.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Denial. Denial. Denial. At first 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 doesn’t believe it. No, he refuses to do so. You’re the most faithful and perfect partner known to the human kind. Right then, he's desperately holding on to that image. But unfortunately, evidence says otherwise. A simple photo, sent to him by your lover, secretly taken by some photographer is clearly showing you and (that whore) your lover, in some hotel room, in an intimate position. It is clear that day that you have an affair. 

“But what if my darling was forced to do this?”

That question sends him into a spiral of delusion, rage and sorrow. As a defence mechanism, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 made up a story where suddenly you were a victim in this whole situation. It was definitely your lover who has forced themselves on you. Probably blackmailed or worse, drugged you to have a taste of sweet love and burning passion you share while making love with him. 

“My poor darling…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 wailed, clenching his chest like someone was physically ripping away his still beating heart from it. Fat tears ran down his rosy cheeks, smudging his mascara and turning him into a crying mess. “I’ll avenge you, my darling. I won’t forgive what was done to you!”

He doesn’t even blink when he sends your lover into the pits of hell. There’s no hesitation when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 plans this hideous crime, making sure every detail is taken care of. And so, it begins small, like creating false and disgusting rumors about your lover. Day by day, he patiently destroys your lover's life. Until the day when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 poisons them through his signature pie and then proceeds to repeatedly stab your lover until no one is able to recognize them in the first place. 

"YOU WENCH!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 roared at the person who happened to be your lover. "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!" With every word he dove the sharp, kitchen knife deeper and harder into his victim's chest. "DIE!!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 yelled for the final time and knife one last time, straight in this whore heart. He was left alone in the empty and messy kitchen, covered in blood, panting and trying to catch his breath. 

In the end, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 begins to gaslight you. Once again, with the patience of a saint, he began to manipulate you to believe that it was in fact your lover who was using you all this time. You were forced into this vile affair and you are a victim. 

“My innocent darling, you mustn't think about it (them) anymore. I will make everything perfect once again.”

But isn’t it weird how he started wearing clothes that are scarily similar to those worn by your lover? Sniff…sniff…and those perfumes…

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

[genericpuff]

no stop this article is too funny

this is from 2020 and while it talks about webtoons in general as a platform and medium, there's an excerpt from Rachel that's ironically and hilariously telling on herself when it comes to her priorities as a creator and how her work has aged incredibly poorly in the past 4 years:

She may as well just be saying, "I like Webtoon because they don't have any quality control" and "the trad publishing market had standards that I couldn't live up to, so instead of actually trying to live up to them, I went with a platform that has zero standards and was willing to make me into the standard regardless of my own qualifications and lack thereof."

Like y'all, take this as advice from someone who's had their fair share of rejection letters... the print industry dumping your unsolicited portfolio in the bin isn't gatekeeping, it's the nature of the business. The way Rachel describes it here - albeit I'm sure it's simplified for the sake of being an interview answer, but still - makes it sound like she was just expecting to walk right into the trad publishing market without an agent, without a completed manuscript or pitch, without any professional representation, and just slam her portfolio of mid-2000's art on the desk expecting them to hire her on the spot.

Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of barriers that prevent people from getting into the trad market, hurdles that can often be outright unfair (lacking the funds, lacking the connections, etc.) but... there's also a reason many of those barriers are there in practice.

First of all, fun fact: the reason why many publishers don't take unsolicited manuscripts isn't just to help them filter out the spam and low-effort submissions and prevent an overload of submissions (because if they took submissions from anyone and everyone, the overviewing system would break entirely), but it's also for legal purposes so that they don't get sued. Because if Joe Chucklefuck sends in an unsolicited manuscript that just so happens to include a plot point about the multiverse, and then a new book series or movie comes out that is about the multiverse, Joe Chucklefuck might get the sense they're being stolen from and attempt to sue them for plagiarism. This is why it's stressed so much by publishers that any unsolicited manuscripts will not just go unread, but will be thrown straight into the bin.

But second, many publishers simply don't want to take the financial risks on random start-up creators whose only experience is running their own personal projects on Tumblr, much less personal projects like Rachel's, half of which are fetish-content and all of which are unfinished. Of course they weren't gonna take Rachel seriously back then, she hadn't done anything to build up her presence in the industry.

In that sense, yes, self-publishing or pursuing a platform gig like Webtoons probably was Rachel's next best option which would be perfectly acceptable on its own, but it's just so, so telling that she thinks it's a "perk" for Webtoons to lack so much in the way of quality control, and we would ironically see the glaring evidence of that "perk" 3-4 years later in LO's final season when every single element of it as a "professional" piece of work turned to shit. It's no wonder she liked Webtoons in 2020 for letting her do anything she wanted, because what she wanted absolutely would not fly with an actual editor and publishing agency that cared about putting out a polished piece of work. The only way she was able to get "in" with a professional publisher was through Del Rey after Webtoons brokered a deal for her to have LO put into print, and even that level of prestige can't hide the fact that LO sucks ass in print. It's almost like under normal circumstances and without Webtoons carrying her on their shoulders above every other creator on the platform - many of whom actually do have experience in both tradpub and self-publishing - Del Rey wouldn't have paid her any attention. Without Webtoons, no one would take her seriously because she doesn't take what she does seriously, and it shows in her priorities as a creator who simply wants to just do whatever she wants without any sort of reasonable oversight like research or editing which are, again, necessary expectations within the tradpub industry, because it's not just about being a free-thinking self-expressive artist anymore in that industry - it's a business.

Of course, Rachel is probably now laughing from her soapbox over the fact that she now technically helps run an imprint, so haha "poo on the meanie trad market", but considering that imprint has still not launched and has been put on the same "coming soon" track that the LO television show has been on for the past 4+ years on a loop, I'm not holding my breath that it's actually going to amount to anything substantial.

(gotta love how they asked if Rachel was gonna create any more stories and her answer was RSP, which will help other creators bring their stories to life. so at best she didn't answer the question which is nothing new for her, at worst she gave away the fact that she's gonna be acting as some kind of producer who will be given all the credit and praise for other creator's works and efforts lmao no thankssss)

And god knows what the quality control of this imprint is gonna be like if Rachel's attitude toward the trad market overall is, "Nooo they won't let me do what I wantttt :((((" when she admittedly never even broke into the trad market to begin with and had zero experience working within that industry prior to LO.

And even then, Webtoons still doesn't give her as much freedom of choice as she claims to have. I mean ffs, this is the same person whose moderators stated that the Swarovski crystal dress from the finale was done as a "fuck you" to Webtoons for not letting her draw Persephone nude all the time.

She's obviously still being prevented from doing what she wants to do, when a lot of what she wants to do is better off not passing the vibe check and making it into the comic.

Quality control exists for a reason, Rachel. And "letting you do what you want" isn't necessarily a "flex" that Webtoons can claim over trad publishing when that "flex" is forgoing the traditional barriers that would usually prevent someone like you from failing upwards into manufactured fame the way that you have.

And that's my big bag of cents on that.

[muekyn]

can i request eren acting a little crazy? like telling you he loves you so much he won't *ever* let you leave him in a serious tone but you think he's just messing around, being cute (totally unaware of how crazy he can be)

your work is really nice btw, i reallllly like how you write eren <3

a/n: hi hi! thank you so much for your patience, i absolutely loved writing this <3 anything with obsessive/unhinged eren has me at my mercy... and thank you for your kind words aaa im so happy you enjoy my writing! seriously, it means alot! content: pre-established relationship, yandere themes? (more like obsessive), fluff, one teeny tiny mention of death word count: 1.1k - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

intense, possessive, enthralling.

that’s the best way to describe eren’s love. he loves fully, he loves completely. he loves until there’s nothing left in his essence, until his bones are withered away, his eyes are dull and tired, and his heart no longer beats.

and he loves you. undeniably so.

eren makes it known to you, every second you two are together. whether that’s a small squeeze of your shoulders, or pressing his lips against your forehead, little acts of affection are thrown your way, very often.

and although he’s undoubtedly sweet with you, he’s colder to others. a bit more hostile. with a piercing toxicity in his voice, and a deeply seeded fire in his gaze, eren does whatever he can to ward off any “threats”.

but in eren’s eyes, everyone’s a threat. no one can be trusted. you’re just too sweet. too sweet for eren to let you out of his sight. too sweet for eren to ever let you go.

you’re such a good person to him. he cherishes that endlessly.

you’re so good. in eren’s eyes, your affection and care for him was something that had to be protected. at any cost.

anyone who dared to disrupt that, even slightly, would pay dearly.

after a particularly nasty week, eren felt himself getting irritable. anxious, even. a few men actually had the nerve to approach you. there was even one bastard that tried to ask you out on a date. all week, there were people staring at you, people talking to you, people flirting with you. in fact, the one filthy rat who asked you out even decided to touch you. just a simple hand on your shoulder, but it was enough.

it was enough to send eren into a state of fuming panic. endlessly, he replayed the scenarios from this week in his mind. whenever he thought back on it, punching the guy who touched you didn’t seem like enough of a punishment.

…what exactly were you doing to him? can’t you see how much he loves you, cares about you, wants to protect you?

was this your intentions? to leave eren scared, threatened, and so violently angry?

the feeling of uncertainty weighed on him, it ate away at him. you needed to be his. undoubtedly. forever.

as the two of you spent time at eren’s place, both of you attempting to relax in his room, he felt his restlessness and anxiety skyrocket.

you sit at the small desk in eren’s room while you halfheartedly tear apart an outrageously expensive piece of bread. eren is sitting a little way away from you, resting himself on the edge of his bed.

“-you know, i’ll never understand why that lady sells her bread for so much more than everybody else,” you say. “it’s not even that good.”

“mmh,” eren simply grunts out, his mind evidently not focused on the casual conversation at hand.

“…you feeling alright, ren?” you hum at him, looking at him from the corner of your eye. “is my bread talk boring you?”

“it’s not that,” eren responds. “i just…”

he goes silent for a moment.

the utterly obsessive feelings eren had, combined with the events from this week, made him slip. just a little.

“…i’m never going to let you go. ever. you’re mine…“ eren trails off. “you’ll always be mine. i know we’re meant to be together.”

“…oh? is that so?” you smile at him, a little giggle falling from your lips. “where is this coming from, hm?”

“i just don’t want to lose you,” eren says, his eyes locked onto you. “you matter to me, more than anything.”

you give him a cute smile, tilting your body so that you’re facing eren.

“aw, that’s sweet of you…” you say, evidently delighted by his words. “you’re important to me too eren.”

“i hope so,” eren murmurs. “…fuck. i’d do anything for you.”

“anything, huh?” you chirp up.

“anything,” eren breathes. “…i’d burn the world for you, you know.”

“well, i hope you don’t do that… i live there,” you say with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“i really mean it…” eren replies.

a deep sigh leaves eren’s lips before he continues his sentence. “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you. honestly, i feel like i could kill someone for you.”

“oh- let’s not go that far…” you trail off.

“i mean- i just... i can’t stop thinking about you… i can’t stop looking at you… fuck- you just really mean a lot to me. i don’t want you to ever leave me…”

he stares at the ground, his eyes locked onto the wooden floor.

“…i’m not going to leave you, ren… ever,” you softly reply, setting your torn bread down.

hastily getting up from your chair, you make your way over to eren. as you take a seat on his plush bed, eren’s attention drifts from the paneled floor to your beautiful irises. once he catches himself looking at you, it’s hard for him to look away. it feels impossible to look away.

eren mumbles. “i wouldn’t be able to handle it. i don’t think i could see you with another person, ever. god… like that guy from earlier. he pisses me off.”

“eren…” you sigh softly.

“fuck- what a piece of shit. no one should be flirting with you,” he spits out, clearly working himself up at this point. “only me. it should only be me. i don’t want anyone even looking at you in that way. just the thought alone makes me want to-“

“ah- i get it, i get it,” you say, taking his hands in yours.

a reassuring smile flashes across your face, trying to deescalate eren’s creeping anger. gently, you give his palms a squeeze. “like i said eren, nothing is going to happen. you’re all i want, all i need. please, don’t worry.”

the tension that was previously evident in eren’s hands starts to ease. the look on his face is calmer, more relaxed.

“god- i’m sorry. i just really love you,” eren breathes to you. “you’re too good to me…i don’t know how i deserve you.”

“oh, don’t say that,” you say, comfort coaxing your voice. “…i love you too, though. just try your best to remember that, okay?”

a slow nod comes from eren. you lean into him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. letting go of his hands, you trail your fingers up his forearms, your digits caressing his skin as you wrap your arms around him. your hug is soft and gentle, almost hesitant. there’s a fluttering in eren’s chest, a vibrancy quite literally making him glow as you embrace him.

eren lets a small smile crack through his lips. vulnerability is still undeniably scrawled on his expression. it always is. ultimately, he just wants more of you, more experiences of you, more time with you.

but for now, just hearing your sweet, songlike voice tell eren that you love him, is enough. just feeling your supple skin shyly brush against him, is enough.

everything about you, was enough.

[back2bluesidex]

Forbidden - KNJ (18+)

Pairing: Professor!Namjoon X Student!Fem reader

Theme: SMUT, PWP, Forbidden relationship au.

Summary: You know it's forbidden but you don't care, not when your professor is more than ready to ruin you.

Word count: 1813

Warnings: professor fucking a student, cumming on her ass, strong language, spanking, slut shaming, Joon hits it from behind, unprotected sex (it's a no no), domish Namjoon.

Minors are NOT welcomed in this blog!!

✨✨✨✨

Forbidden - “Not permitted or allowed” 

There is not a single part of the definition that you don’t understand -- Yet you can't help it.

All of your life you have been an exemplary kid. Be it academics, be it code of conduct, be it discipline, you have always excelled in everything. But you were never nosy about it. You kept yourself humble but quite reserved at the same time. You know well which lines cannot be crossed and which ones can, that too, when you should cross them. 

With a pair of big doe eyes and a heart full of enthusiasm, you stepped into this university. All set to achieve your dream degree. 

However, some of it changed when this one particular person walked into your life. 

“I clearly remember asking everyone to do their own parts even if it’s a group project. Didn’t I?” Kim Namjoon, your physics professor, says with his baritone voice. Hints of anger evident in his expression. 

“Yes, professor.” You and your project partners chant in unison. 

“But I got this feeling that two of you haven’t even written a single word.” Namjoon crosses his hands on his chest as he supports his weight on the table. Your eyes follow his every movement. The way his chest flexes against his tight turtleneck, it's illegal. You inhale sharply trying to shoo away the intrusive thoughts that are starting to cloud your mind. 

“No professor! We did as we were told” one of your partners almost shouts in her defense. You resist the urge of rolling your eyes. You know Namjoon is right, because you were the one to do the entire project. Park Sun Mi was way too busy with her baseball captain boyfriend and Lee Jae Min was way too high to come down and use that one left brain cell to do the project. You had no choice but to do the entire thing alone. You can’t afford to lose points because of your unworthy partners, even if that means giving them the scores they clearly don’t deserve. 

“Is that so? Then you should have no problem in appearing for a test based on the project in my office after your class hours.” their mouths fall open at Namjoon’s suggestion. 

“But professor-” Jaemin starts but Namjoon cuts him off,

“No ifs and buts. Report directly to me after your classes are over. Is that clear?” Namjoon says in a very authoritative tone. There is no room for any objection any more. Neither that you would ever object, you would rather spend an hour or two taking an unnecessary test in his presence than going home and resting. 

“Yes professor.” again you three answer in unison. 

“Leave” your professor orders. You are about to turn your heels when he orders again, “Y/N, I need to talk to you. You two leave.” You catch Sunmi rolling her eyes at you.

Your heart reacts faster than your mind. It starts to beat menacingly in an instant and you don't know how to act normal. You can’t really wrap your head around the fact that you are getting a piece of time to spend alone with the man of your dreams, your guilty pleasure, your forbidden desire, Kim Namjoon. You are so lost in your head that you didn’t even notice that Namjoon has been ogling your exposed legs. However, he soon composes himself and clears his voice to claim your attention.  

“Y/N… I didn’t expect that from you.” His voice is mixed with disappointment and anger, maybe? 

First of all, this is the first time in two semesters’ time, he has called you by your first name only, no suffix or prefix to burden the weight. Secondly, you don’t know why but, him being angry with you sends tingles down your spine. It definitely should not be like this. Had it been any other time, you would have probably sulked or cried your eyes out because you disappointed your mentors but…. This time it’s different. This time it's Namjoon. 

You don’t say anything in your defense. You know Namjoon understood that you did the entire project alone the very moment he read it, when it was supposed to be a “group” project. You are no better than your partners. You were on your way to give them free points for your own selfish needs. So, you hang your head low, avoiding his eyes. 

He marches towards where you are standing and comes to stand right in front of you. 

You curse at the proximity he has chosen to tease you with. 

“sorry, professor” you apologize with your small voice. 

“I think you are intelligent enough to know that your apology will not be enough, Y/N” he breathes out. The anger and disappointment in his voice are now gone, now those are replaced by something akin to darkness. 

“Professor, I-” You are immediately interrupted as Namjoon puts his index finger below your chin and tilts your face up to make you meet his eyes. Another round of shivers run down your spine as you perceive his siren eyes and the looming mischief in them. 

“Don’t you think you deserve some punishment?” Namjoon takes a step towards you as you take a step back. 

“You have been acting like a bad girl lately-” another step.

“-bad girls deserve punishment and I knows how to treat brats like you.” your ass comes into contact with the first row of desks. With blown out pupils you stare at your professor and try to comprehend the meaning behind his words. He, on the other hand, seems to be enjoying the way you are already submitting yourself to him. 

“Profe–” he cuts you off again, 

“Shhh– turn around” he orders and you comply without sparing a second thought. Your morals and rationality have feld through the open window long ago. 

You turn around and stand back-facing him. He places one of his giant hands on your shoulder and lowers your upper body down enough to perk your ass up. Your heart thumps as if it would burst out of your chest any given moment. Anticipation of what might happen in the very next moment, makes you leak. For a moment you think that you are dreaming. There is no way your daydreams are taking the shape of reality, you ain’t that lucky. But the next moment, you are proved wrong, when you feel Namjoon’s rough hands brushing right below your skirt’s hem. He bunches your skirt up and reveals the supple flesh of your perked ass. One of his palms creases down your butt through the thin material of your panty. He hooks two of his fingers on the hem of your underwear and pulls that down in an instant. 

And before you could accept the fact that you are now butt-naked in front of your hot professor, thinking of whom you hit your high every other night, a tight slap lands on your right ass. You yelp, eyes start stinging with tears right away. 

“For working on the entire project alone.” Namjoon groans.  

“Fuck” you curse out loud. 

Another slap lands at the same spot. “For concentrating more on my arms and thighs than the white board.” You gasp for air. 

Another slap. “For wearing these short skirts and driving me crazy.” 

Fuck, did you really drive him crazy? 

The last slap lands on the same spot. “For making me do something so forbidden.” 

You are drooling, both by mouth and cunt, by the end of the spanking session. Namjoon massages the fat of your ass as his other hand travels towards your cunt. He drags his slender fingers through your slit once and then parts your folds to gain access to your clit. You start to breathe heavily but stay still and let him do whatever he pleases. 

“Tell me to stop before I do something wrong, Y/N” his thick voice causes you to leak more. 

“No. don’t stop. I- I have wanted you, professor, for a long time now.” 

“You nasty little slut, do you think it’s okay to fancy your professor like this?” Namjoon says through his gritted teeth. All the while, his fingers probe into your cunt bringing a delicious friction and stretch with them.

“Fuck! So tight!” Namjoon exclaims. The more he discovers your tightness, the more his nails dig into your ass. 

You moan some incoherent curses and those arouse Namjoon even more. 

“You like it, don’t you? You like being corrupted? By the professor you desire? Hmm? A model student like you but so nasty inside?” He says with his husky voice. 

“Yes, professor. For you, only for yo-ah fuck” Your head starts to spin when he scissors his digits and stretch your walls even more. 

“For me? Yeah? Then do you want my cock?” he presses his thumb on your clit. 

“Yes. please.” you choke out, and that’s the confirmation Namjoon needed. He removes his hands from your body once for unbuckling his belt and setting his cock free. Once the deed is done, he slaps his thick meat on your ass. And fuck, you never knew you had so much of juice left inside of you cause you are leaking again. 

“Spread your legs.” he orders and you comply. 

He enters you bit by bit. At first it's just the tip and then he is half inside and then he is balls deep into you. The stretch is dreamy, far better than what you imagined and you want it all. 

“Should I move now?” His considerate voice makes your heart flutter and that’s a territory you don’t want to cross. You nod and he slams his hip into you. 

You arch your back. Namjoon wraps his hand on your waist to keep you in place as he starts thrusting into you mercilessly. 

The desk starts shaking violently but he doesn’t stop, neither do you want him to. You don’t even care if anyone is hearing you two doing things you definitely should not. With a vice-like thrust he hits your g-spot and your cream his cock without any warning. 

“Fuckfuckfuck” namjoon curses as he struggles to keep the pace. You know he is close as well. He pulls out his cock and cums all over your ass. His cum drips down the globe of your ass down your thighs and the scene alone makes him wanna fuck you again. However, he is a man of control. 

He let the beast out once and that should be enough. He knows you are a forbidden fruit and he should not touch you ever again. But the question is, can he contain himself? Especially when you turn around and seal your soft, sweet lips into a tempting kiss while both of you are still naked enough to start fucking again? Especially when you are so willing to be ruined by him and the bad boy in him roars to life. 

✨✨✨✨

[sulumuns-dootah]

Hiiii. I've been seeing and liking all your headcanons until now.

I was wondering if you can do a short fix with Bael or Mammon with a s/o (or mc however you want) who is extremely insecure about all her assets?

I've been struggling with this for forever and I'd like some reassurance from either of my favourite demons.

But ofc if you don't want to I understand.

Have a great day/evening/night. :)

A/N: Thank you so much! I'm glad you like my writing and I hope you like this one too. ^^

Mammon, Bael w/ Insecure s/o

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

Characters: Mammon, Bael

    ༺☆༻

Mammon

“Oh treasure, you can't be serious.” Mammon hoarsely laughs when you confess your insecurities about your body to him. His laugh only falters the moment he sees your hurt expression with glossed over eyes threatening to spill tears at any moment.

“Treasure, you are serious?” His question sounds more like a statement, which both of you know is true. The evident remorse in his voice made you feel better, seeing that he didn't mean to disregard your insecurities.

“I'm sorry. I thought that knowing what you do to me, would be enough to prove to you how truly divine you are. I suppose, I haven't expressed my appreciation enough.” He pulls you in for a tight hug, making sure to drag his hands slowly from your thighs to your lover back. Following all the curves your body has to offer along the way.

You can't help but bury your face into his perfectly sculpted muscles and breathe in the scent that can only be described as ancient.

“I might've been somewhat hasty in showing my adoration of such exquisite piece of art. Would you allow me show it properly this time?” Mammon says pulling back after a while, extending his hand for you to accept or reject his offer. You look into his eyes only to see them silently beg that you let him show you, how beautiful you truly are. As you take his hand in agreement, he leads you to his bedroom to make sure you never forget the way he sees you.

    ༺☆༻

Bael

“What is it, dearest? I'm kinda busy at the moment. The King ran away again and these papers need to be done by midnight.” Bael says completely engrossed in a mess of papers. Beelzebub had long time ago taught him his handwriting, so he can spend more time out and about.

“It's nothing. It's just that I don't feel good about my body.” You confess, only able to guess his reaction as you can't bring yourself to look up at him from the ground.

“That's not nothing. Did anyone have any negative remarks towards you?” He turns on his chair towards you, or at least you presume since his feet are now facing your way and his voice sounds less distant.

“No, nobody said anything.” You shake you head slightly, daring to look up higher to see his legs. Just from the way his legs are positioned, you can tell he's worried.

“Good. I was worried, I'd have to send Naberius or Stolas to some ill-minded demon, who had a death wish.” The way he sounds relieved makes it hard for you to continue. Before you get to speak up again he turns back to his work mumbling about how he's never gonna let Beelzebub live down the fact he left him so much last minute work.

“It's me who has these thoughts. But I'll let you get back to your work I guess.” You turn around and start walking towards the door leading out of the office. But before you can fully open the door, it's forcefully slammed by Baels hand and you're turned around to face him. He pushes you up against it and takes your face into his hands. You finally dare to look him in the eyes and see that he's more worried than he seemed before. His thumbs swipe away tears you didn't notice slipped from you eyes.

“Care to tell me all about these thoughts then, so I can disprove every single one of them?” He licks his lips and lowers his head to get a whiff of your sweet scent from the crook of your neck.

“But what about the paperwork?” You shakily breathe out, still surprised from all the things that have happened in the past few seconds.

“That can wait. You are more important.”

[red-riding-wood]

Saltwater Tears

@runnning-outof-time K... Tumblr ate your ask when I saved it to my drafts so I apologise for the shitty screencap (I always take these beforehand in case it does this lol). And thank you for the request. <3 As I promised, I brought all the angst.

Also, while writing this, the character/reader reminded me of the song Dragonslayer by Lana Del Rey (Isa, you have ruined me) so I decided to use that as some added inspiration.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

WARNINGS: Angst, sexual references, mentions of cheating, language

WC: 1816

Thomas’ words still echoed through your throbbing skull, no amount of his haughtiness lost on your memory as you trudged through the rain slicked streets. The coldness of his gaze was blazoned on the forefront of your mind, the flippancy with which he had dismissed you after the tense meeting with your father as if you were merely a trophy to flaunt before shelved to suffocate in a slow build of dust.

And with each step, your lungs seemed to constrict tighter. With each step, you remembered bits and pieces of the evidence you’d found of his infidelity – the unfamiliar hair brush on his bedside table, the smell of another woman’s perfume on his sheets. You hadn’t wanted to believe it, hadn’t found your suspicion to be unbearable until now.

He called your name past the roar of the storm, but it only drove the spike in your heart deeper each time, your tears mingling with the cold of the rain and your body shuddering from head to toe.

And yet, every time your name was uttered, you couldn’t help but falter, your bleeding heart beating for him and some cruelly human part of your mind urging you to turn back and let yourself fall into arms that would be so warm in the cold, that would soothe the bitterness in your burning veins.

You jumped back, a sheet of filth drenching the skirt of your dress. A shiver seemed to travel to the very marrow of your bone, and as you stopped, staring in shock at the car that sped by and the road you had nearly stepped across, your heart felt as if it were about to split your ribcage in half.

“Y/N.” A gravelly yet distant voice called to you so soft now, a warm breath on your neck sending another shiver to your aching bones. You turned, slowly, and swallowed your grief as you met Thomas’ piercing eyes. Once his touch grazed the bare of your arm, it was over. You weren’t going anywhere.

“Let’s talk about this,” he said, catching his own breath as his fingers travelled down the length of your arm and laced with your own that shivered, numb, from the cold.

That was the first time you had ever heard Thomas Shelby suggest you talk about anything, and it pulled at an aching heart.

“Okay. Let’s talk,” you breathed, voice nearly washed away by the roar of the storm. You blinked fiercely, lashes fluttering in the rain that struck them. “You never told me your history with my father.”

“It’s in the past,” Thomas said, and you nearly winced at his words. As his other hand reached to brush the hair slicked to your cheek, you flinched away. And like that, your bleeding heart came undone, and you said, “Really, that little pissing match was ‘in the past’? The entire purpose of that meeting was just to rub his nose in the fact that you fucked me.”

Thomas’ hand seemed to catch in the air, not used to this side of you. The side of you that was bitter, that was fed up.

And he didn’t say anything. But his fingers loosened from yours.

You choked back a sob, and your words came weaker now, and you stammered over them because you couldn’t believe what you were saying, didn’t want to imagine him answering. “Did you… did you ever… Do you really want me? Or is this your way of getting back at my father?”

All your life, you’d been taken advantage of by men who wished to grow closer to your family for their ties and their power. And while your father had many enemies – the Blinders included – you never could have imagined that someone would pretend to love you just to hurt him, let alone the one person who seemed to understand you, who’d offered you some ounce of reprieve in this unforgiving city.

You’d been used many times, but this, this was different. It would’ve hurt less had you stepped onto that road.

Thomas was still silent, chest heaving as he panted out his own breaths. Blue eyes twisted with grief, the bright of them taking your reluctant mind through memories of the pastel sky above the two of you as you rode through the countryside, of the dress he had bought you and had said did not compare to your beauty.

Your fingers bunched the drenched fabric of the very same dress, peeling wretched garment from your flesh as if it caged you to such memories. You tried not to think of all the times you’d worn it for him, that it had been discarded across the same bed that had been inhabited by other women.

“I know about her,” you added bitterly. “Or them. I know about them.” Your eyes bled tears, and your heart pumped venom. “I’ve lied to myself for too long,” you said, as you began to turn away. “Goodbye, Thomas.”

“They were just business.”

You halted, anger flaring from the raw ache of your heart, and you spun on your heel. “So you’re using them, too?” you snapped. “Everything is business with you, Thomas. Everything. Even me.”

“You’re not just business.” He took a step forward. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

It seemed as if your heart hadn’t broken enough. At his words, it shattered in your chest.

“Y/N, I want you,” he said. “And I don’t say it enough, but I love you. It was never about your father.”

“What was it about, then?” Your voice shook and you fought against every basic instinct to draw him in close, to press your chin to his chest and hear his own heart beating for yours.

He shook his head, lips parted but not speaking, as if at a loss for words. You were about to turn away again, when he took another step forward, his hot breath fanning against your cheeks. “That first time you asked me to take you to the ocean. And fuck me, I nearly didn’t say yes.” The faintest of chuckles broke his speech, the rare chuff of his laughter clawing at your aching chest. “But when you caught the wind in your hair it was like you came alive.”

Past the damp of the rain you could smell the sea, could nearly taste the saltwater on your lips when he’d kissed you that day. The last of your worries had melted away in the heat of that kiss, had been swept away by the breeze and carried far offshore. Or so you had thought.

“And you made me feel alive,” he said, his hands cupping your cheeks now. You were paralysed, at his mercy, leaning into his touch and inhaling the scent of horses and gunpowder past the rain. “For the first time since the war.” 

Breaths exchanged, and you tilted your head so that his lips brushed your forehead instead, and you said, “Why don’t you say things like this to me more?”

“I don’t know. But I can. Just come back to me.” His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck as if to trap you. You’d never heard him so desperate. It nearly made you do exactly what he asked.

As if that wasn’t what you yearned for. As if you wouldn’t do anything to forget all of this and go back to that day by the sea, or under the pastel blue sky on the back of a racehorse.

“I want to.” You could hear his heart beating now, thundering like the hooves of one of his horses as you uttered your truths into the dampened fabric of his shirt. “And I want to believe you. But I don’t know if I should.”

“Come back inside,” he breathed against your hair.

“I don’t know if my heart can take this, Thomas.” You tore yourself away, practically shoving him off while avoiding his gaze. “I don’t know if I can go through this again if you’re lying…”

“I’m not lying. Look at me. Look at me.” Firm fingers swept beneath your chin and forced your gaze to his.

“If I make you feel so alive, why do you keep killing me, slowly? Why do I keep watching you drift from me?” As if you were taken by that ocean. Your saltwater lips trembled around your words.

They were questions you’d been burning to ask for a long time now. Questions you’d buried beneath your own lies that you told yourself, like how you’d buried your anguish beneath the sands of the beach only to feel it slam once more against your chest, harder, more forceful than anything you’d known.

You couldn’t take it anymore, not as each second of silence that dragged by killed a piece of you. “You can’t answer. And if I come back to you, it’s going to keep happening.” You spoke past the rising sand in your throat until it came out as a whimper, and you shook your head helplessly, and you realised that it was your tears that you could taste on your tongue, not the ocean. “I’m so torn, Thomas.”

“I’ll flip a coin,” he said, digging into his pocket. “Heads, you trust me. Tails, you walk away.”

Those words might as well have been the last nail in your coffin. They’d sealed your fate, at one time. When he’d asked you to work for him. When you knew the moment the silver caught the wink of light that he would be your undoing no matter what it landed on.

“Not everything can be solved with a coin,” you protested, the bitter taste of betrayal on your tongue.

“Remember, it will tell you what you want. Remember when – “

“I remember, Thomas.” It was all coming crashing down on you just like the rain that pelted your shivering body, and you closed your eyes, your tears achingly warm as they bled across your cheeks.

“Watch.”

“No – “

The coin was a watery vision as it came down in the air, your lashes peeling open and lips parting in terror. Whatever it landed on, it was over. Either he’d kill you slowly or you’d die here, tonight; you’d never be the same. Your fate had always been sealed.

He snapped the coin shut in his hand. You met his eyes, your own fear reflected in their bright blues. And you realised that neither of you wanted to look. And so, tentatively, you asked,

“What is it?”

Slowly, he opened his hand. Slowly, you both looked at the coin. And slowly, the shards of your heart weighed so heavy in your chest that you felt as if you’d collapse to your knees.

But the answer wasn’t what crushed you. It was the realisation that, despite what the coin said, despite knowing what was best for you, you just…

… you couldn’t.  

A.N. I'm leaving the ending ambiguous and it's up to you if the coin landed on heads or tails!

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed to any of my taglists and notified of new works!

TAGLIST: @eclecticwildflowers @emotionalcadaver @evita-shelby @minaethrym @shelbydelrey @zablife @runnning-outof-time @poisonedtruth

[fictoculus]

౨ৎ 100 followers special; 100 word hcs...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... alhaitham, kuni/wanderer, tighnari, venti, heizou

A/N... welcome to the 100 followers post, sorry it took so long for me to get this done! i just wanted to say thank you sosososo much for all the love and support, it means a lot and i reallyyy appreciate it!!! i love you all, enjoy reading! ♡

✧ alhaitham.

alhaitham tends to be quite protective, despite his seemngly calm and relaxed exterior. the thought of you being hurt scares him (though he'll never admit it), and so he always asks where you're going whenever you leave the house, as well as when he can expect you back home. if you get back home late, well… saying he's worried is an understatement - he just can't help it - but he'd never be mad at you for it. the absolute furthest he'd ever go is mumble "you're late" before wrapping you in a hug, squeezing you just a little tighter than usual…

✧ kuni.

kuni is definetely all over you as soon as the two of you are behind closed doors, how couldn't he be? he loves everything about you, and finds it hard to keep his hands off you in public; so hard, in fact, that he often pulls you into quiet corners or alleyways to plant a quick kiss on your lips, or simply pull you into a tight hug. showing affection in public isn't exactly within kuni's comfort zone, but if a certain situation ever arises, he's more than happy to grab you by the waist and announce you as his…

✧ tighnari.

tighnari is an amazing cook; he knows almost every plant of sumeru inside out, granting him knowledge of their complex flavours and textures, as well as how to pair them effectively with various spices and meats. you look forward to every meal, and so does he; there's nothing he loves more than the smile on your face after you take your first bite, praising him for - once again - cooking a delicious dish that's unique to him. he very rarely follows sumerian recipes, and instead relies on himself or recipes from other nations, wanting to expand his food-related knowledge even further…

✧ venti.

venti often takes you out for walks through mondstadt's scenery, the two of you always ending up at stormbearer point, dangling your legs off of the ledge as the two of you rest against eachother. on your way there, he always picks a cecilia - no matter how hard it may be to get to - and tucks it's stem behind your ear, giving you a soft kiss on your lips and telling you just how beautiful you are, somehow managing to never repeat his words from previous trips. he absolutely adores you, and wouldn't change anything about you for the world…

✧ heizou.

heizou, the infamous detective of inazuma, often finds himself buried in his work; his office floor covered in documents, pieces of evidence, and - strangely enough - flower petals. on your first date, he'd taken you on a picnic in, what he describes as, "inazuma's most scenic-yet-hidden picnic spot". the smell their was beyond beautiful, and accompanied by you? it was possibly one of the best moments of his life. the scent of any inazuman flower always brings him back to that moment, the sweet memory pushing any stress to the back of his mind as he thinks of you - his flower…

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

© FICTOCULUS 2023; please do not steal, translate, or repost any of my works as your own

[appendingfic]

Walters' Story Never Quite Adds Up

So let's talk about Walters.

Walters' explanations to the protagonists are, like the various explanations of the owl/echidna conflict, full of questions and holes. UNLIKE the owl/echidna conflict, we see a number of scenes besides those seen from the perspectives of traumatized children and a rock opera performed by a post-concussion hallucination to piece together what's likely true.

We first see Walters debating with the Joint Chiefs about how to respond to the blackout caused by Sonic. He convinces them to use Robotnik. However, there's a notable absence from this meeting - the President of the United States. And Wikipedia has this to say on the subject: "Following the Goldwater–Nichols Act in 1986, the Joint Chiefs of Staff do not have operational command authority, either individually or collectively..."

After Robotnik vanishes, a joint military/intelligence operation is created to monitor aliens, and Robotniks is basically wiped from existence. Walters ends up in charge.

How? Why?

He presents the issue as this happening "after San Francisco", but astute watchers will recall that by all available evidence, in San Francisco, exactly zero of the damage/injuries(?)/deaths(?) were caused by an alien. It was entirely one (1) US military contractor.

Furthermore, assassinating every one of a former asset's colleagues isn't really standard operating procedure in the US intelligence community except for "burned" (disavowed) assets who pose an immediate threat.

HOWEVER

Astute watchers will question to what degree Robotnik exceeded the directives given to him. He pursued Sonic to the best of his ability, and remained focused on that goal throughout the entire movie.

That's not "unreliable asset" behavior.

But remember what I said up there about the Joint Chiefs not having operational authority?

That means they can't just send US military assets out to do stuff. They can't have a weapons contractor try to secure an alien entity without the go-ahead from the Commander in Chief.

Doing so would constitute a massive overreach on the part of the military and subject everyone involved in the decision to court-martial, removal, and depending on how the military lawyers spin it, treason charges.

You know what I said about "disappearing" an intelligence asset and everyone he knows isn't usually how you disavow a contractor?

It is how you deal with the only guy who can contradict the official story you've given to the President/Congress.

You see the only defense Walters has is claiming Robotnik did all this on no official orders from anybody, and anybody in Robotnik's circle who can claim otherwise is a threat to that story - and him.

Which brings us to the second part of the major inconsistencies. We know now that Walters did in fact have a presence on the Project Shadow base, making him familiar with the concept of Chaos Energy, and the uses to which Gerald and the military might have considered putting it.

He therefore had a vested interest in portraying Sonic, and any other aliens, as a risk - and with the (likely highly-redacted) story about what happened with Shadow, likely had a reasonably easy time of it.

But it WOULD require inflating the amount to which Sonic contributed to the fiasco in San Francisco. Technically, Robotnik could do all that solely because of a quill he possessed from Sonic, making it, in some twisted logic, Sonic's fault.

So frankly at this point, being (a) the only living member of the US military who had direct contact with an alien creature (Shadow), and (b) having avoided all fallout from the Robotnik thing by successfully portraying the entire endeavor as a rogue agent to conceal his involvement in deploying Robotnik, it would be totally natural that having engineered the creation of this task force, Walters ended up in charge of it.

And it couldn't happen to a nicer guy.

[thoughtsfromlayla]

The allegations are BS. THERE IS A BIG DIFFERENCE between saying “believe all women” and “the facts don’t matter, the allegation is the proof”. In this case, the sources and information are insanely vague and lack any sort of information that would constitute a true “allegation”. PEOPLE HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO INFORMATION BUT HAVE ALREADY DECIDED HE IS GUILTY. People don’t even know what he’s actually accused of anymore because the story has been fabricated and spun so heavily already. I see some saying “he sexually assaulted an actress” or “he assaulted his 20 year old nanny” or “he slept with his 20 year old nanny consensually but it’s still wrong because he’s famous” like WHAT?!? Those are all very different allegations, and not a single one of them have a true source or piece of verifiable information (could be YET or could be NOT AT ALL). Every “source” is just someone saying “I saw some other person say it”. It’s like a bad game of Telephone. It’s not real. Too many people nowadays can just say someone did something to them and people will take it and run with it without fact checking or researching a thing. There are no real, credible sources and absolutely ZERO verifiable pieces of evidence to even remotely prove that it’s true. Crazy that all it takes is for a person to say something online or in a podcast that’s completely made up and BAM- it’s everywhere and they have successfully ruined someones life and career while boosting their own platforms for a quick viral moment. Fame is a hell of a drug. People will do or say anything to have their moment and no one stops to ask “WHY would this person say this? WHY would this person want this particular fanbase to be involved? Why now? WHY would they reveal this allegation in such a silly and fake-sounding way that any lawyer or attorney would completely advise against until actual investigations have been conducted?” People will believe anything they read nowadays. Such a shame. And when the allegations are proven to be as fake and staged for a viral moment as they sound, I hope every person that so easily believed the lies and turned their backs without a shred of information or common sense feels ashamed of themselves. Social media has truly rotted peoples brains 🫠

What’s crazy is- whether Neil is guilty or completely innocent, his reputation and career are ruined. No information, no factual sources, no investigation info, and everyone has still already decided to stone him. The Sandman will likely be boycotted, Dead Boy Detectives will never see a second season, the Sandman fandom will fizzle (you already said that even you intend to be part of ending it on here). He is more than likely innocent and it won’t matter because people have already decided his fate. Sad as hell.

I would rather support the victims and be wrong and apologize than be silent about something like this. I will never feel ashamed for standing up for what I believe is right. Neither will I feel ashamed for learning that I was wrong and being taught better.

I said in my original post (which I'm assuming is what made you send in this in the first place) that I understand that the situation is very complex - that the information regarding both parties and the publishing company that made the story made the allegations unclear.

I've also said that I am still a Sandman fan, just that I will not support Neil Gaiman any longer. Which, wouldn't be all that difficult for me as I didn't even know his name until I watched the Netflix adaption of The Sandman. It took me another year to even bother looking him up and learning that he was also the author of other popular works that I enjoyed.

My love for The Sandman and the fandom is not tied in with Neil Gaiman. I love the actors and workers that made the show possible, too. I love the people who create art and write fanfics, that I've met because I decided to share my love for the fandom as well.

I also never said that I would stop posting my Sandman fanfics on here, just that I believe it would be best to refrain from doing do now given the circumstances. I believe myself to be a small and (relatively) new blog and one blog in the humongous fandom that is The Sandman. So even if I did decide to quit, I doubt would cause the fandom to fizzle.

At the end of the day, we don't know what kind of person Neil Gaiman is because he's just another person on the internet. You don't even know the kind of person I am and how and why I would take my stand the way that I do. If you want to defend Neil Gaiman and whether or not he is guilty or not is completely up to you.

If you don't agree with me, that's fine, but do not come onto my blog and tell me or other people how they should feel about the situation or shame them for being hurt by the information, too.

Layla

[bugrry]

you're the thing that's crystal clear pt. 2

hbo!joel miller x fem!reader || masterlist

hello again!! here is the promised part two of this piece that you all ADORED. thank you all so much for all the love on that, and for inspiring me to keep writing. i love you all so deeply.

my requests for joel are open!! i want to keep writing for y'all so send me some thoughts!

warnings: SMUT (18+ please! contains f receiving oral, unprotected sex), some fluff, and a smidge of angst if you squint.

word count: 3.8k

Joel has yet to leave your side since your reunion in the bar. He won’t let you move away from his touch, much less out of his sight. He’s missed you so much that if he has to watch you walk away from him one more time, even if just for a moment, he thinks he’ll combust. 

Tommy keeps looking over at the two of you, and Joel has to stop himself from pulling you impossibly closer. He doesn’t know what Tommy could possibly be thinking, but what he does know is that he doesn’t want to hear it. Tommy has always given Joel shit for the women in his life, claiming they’re too good for you man, or some other bullshit about him choosing women who are way out of his league. Before the outbreak, Joel would just laugh and shrug it off. But now, with you, he doesn’t want to hear what he already knows to be true. He doesn’t want to be reminded of the fact that you would be better off without him, even if you don’t think so. You interrupt his spiraling thoughts with a tap on his knee.

“You okay?” 

He looks over at you, forcing himself to press the anguish out of his face. The look on your face gives away all of your emotions, concern and distress are painted into the creases between your eyebrows and the pout on your lips.

“Yeah. Just thinkin’,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down your back. 

“Thinking about what?”

“Nothin’, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.” He brushes you off, but he can feel in the way that you tense that you aren’t going to let it go that easily. He sighs as you step away from him.

“You can’t tell me not to worry about it. You coming back here, coming back to me, means that I get to worry about you again. You’ve gotta talk to me.”

Joel realizes then that he’d do anything for you. If it meant he got to keep you around, he would do anything you ask of him. He’d spill all of his deepest secrets, even give you the clothes off of his back if it meant he got to go home to you at the end of the day. 

“I know sweets, I just–” he cuts himself off, taking a breath to center himself, “can we talk about this later, when we’re alone?”

You nod, patting him on the knee and scooting even closer to him. He smiles and pulls you onto him so that you are seated on one of his thighs. You gasp at the movement but quickly settle into the new position. He smiles and rests his chin on your shoulder, happily willing to sit and just listen to you talk to your friends. 

After a few hours, as the sun is beginning to set, Ellie jogs up to the two of you after having been running around the commune with various kids and other animals.

“Woah! You make friends fast, Joel!” Ellie laughs, smiling at you as you remove yourself from your perch on his lap. You feel your face flush and you hear Joel as he huffs, both at Ellie’s comment and the loss of your touch.

“Mind your business, Ellie,” Joel says, pulling you back closer to him as you look down at your fidgeting hands. Still with his eyes on Ellie, Joel moves one of his hands over yours, stopping your fingers from where they were picking at each other. He gives your hands a squeeze and presses his fingers in between your palms, then snakes his hand in between yours and intertwines your fingers with his. Ellie is watching Joel’s every move, confusion evident in her features. 

“No seriously, who is she?” Ellie’s voice doesn’t seem to be aggressive or angry, merely curious about the scene before her. She’d never seen Joel partake in any sort of affection, much less allow someone to sit in his lap. 

“This is Y/N. Knew her before you.” Joel says shortly, and you look up at Ellie with a nervous wave. You know this girl means the world to him now, and all you can do is hope that she likes you. You don’t think that her not liking you would change Joel’s feelings toward you, but it would definitely make both of your lives even more complicated and difficult than they already are. 

“Hi Ellie,” you offer, sticking your hand out as a show of good faith. She just looks at your hand for a moment before smiling and reaching out to shake it and giving you a quiet hello. 

“Okay, um,” she starts once she pulls her hand back to her side, “I’m really tired so I think I’m gonna go ask Tommy where I can sleep.” Joel nods, looking for his brother in the crowd. Once he finds him and meets his eyes, Joel waves him over. Tommy smiles softly and pardons himself from the conversation he doesn’t seem to be an active participant in. 

“Glad to see the two of you have made up. What do you need?”

You look over at Joel as he smiles, but you frown a little at the way his smile doesn’t seem to meet his eyes. You push your worry to the side, promising yourself to ask him about it later. 

“Ellie says she’s tired, but I think I’m gonna stay up with Y/N for a little while longer, do you have a place for her to stay?”

You perk up, seeming to have just now tuned into the conversation, and place a hand on Joel’s shoulder. Tommy and Ellie look over at you as you open your mouth to speak

“I have an extra bedroom if she would feel comfortable staying with me,” you look at Joel, “I mean…if that’s okay with you too.”

Joel looks back at Ellie, silently asking her what she thinks. She just shrugs. “I’m fine with whatever she’s fine with.” “Would you be staying at Y/N’s too, Joel?” Tommy asks. 

Joel looks at you, his eyes wide, but you don’t seem to have much of a reaction to the question. You just look back at him with those damned sweet eyes of yours.

“Yeah,” you say, looking back at Tommy, “he’s gonna stay with me.”

── ⋅⋅⋅ ──

Even though Joel would have been happy sitting outside with you until the sun came back up, you had to take Ellie back to your place to get her settled in your spare bedroom.

“...The bathroom is just down the hall, and Joel and I will be in my room downstairs,” you finish explaining where everything was, pointing in the respective directions of the bathroom and your bedroom. “Just let us know if you need anything. We’ll probably be up for a little while yet.”

Joel had been standing silently next to you the whole time you’d been explaining the layout of your home. He had been enthralled with your collection of books, pottery, and paintings. He wondered if that was what your house had been full of before the outbreak, when everything wasn’t constantly a matter of life or death. When you were carefree and when you were happy. He decides that the thought isn’t worth dwelling on, and he pushes it away with a grunt.

Once Ellie had said her goodnights and shut her door, you lead Joel back downstairs. Your living room consisted of intricately carved wooden bookcases that were absolutely full, a worn-but-cozy-looking couch, and a soft rug. Joel sighs at the warmth that resonates from everything in your home.

“Wow,” Joel hums, “everything is so normal here.” He finds himself rubbing his fingers along the worn seams of your couch as you walk into the kitchen to retrieve a couple of glasses and a bottle of whiskey. When you return, you set a glass in front of Joel, pouring him a few ounces of liquor.

“I guess you could say that,” you say softly, pouring your own glass, “doesn’t always feel like it out there, so I try to make it feel like it in here. There are some carpenters around town,” You move to one of your bookcases and run your fingers softly along the carvings as you hold your glass in your other hand. “They made these for me. They make me think of you.”

Joel frowns as you say this, looking up from where you’ve parked yourself in front of your bookcase.

“How do you mean?”

“Oh,” you start, turning to face him, “they’re strong, sturdy, reliable, lovely to be around.” You say, and with every adjective you place on both him and the bookcase, you take a step closer to him. By the time you’ve reached the end of your list, you are standing in front of where he’s sitting. His eyes have followed your face throughout your walk toward him, and as he looks up at you now, he is convinced you are the most beautiful woman on the planet. He reaches up and places his hands on your hips as you swirl your drink around in its glass. 

“I’ve missed you so much Y/N,” he whispers and pulls you closer to him, resting his head on your soft stomach. You run your fingers through his hair, subsequently pulling him closer to your body. 

“I’ve missed you too, Joel. So much more than I could ever tell you.”

Joel presses the side of his face further into your tummy, inhaling deeply. 

“Are you okay?” you ask after a few moments of comfortable silence. Joel turns his head so that his nose presses into your navel, as though trying to hide from the question.

“I’m just so scared of you leaving again,” Joel mumbles into your stomach, “I don’t think I could survive it.”

You pull away from him and Joel almost whines, tightening his grip on your hips in an attempt to keep you pressed against him. He is unsuccessful, though, as you pull his hair gently in order to get him to look you in the eye again. You smile at him as he obeys your silent request, and you continue to run your fingers over his worn features. Your hand eventually comes to a resting place on his shoulder. 

“Haven’t I told you how miserable I was after I left the first time? I don’t think I could survive leaving you again, either.” You smile at him again, moving your hand up to run it along the crevices of his ear. “You’re stuck with me, Joel Miller. Like honey.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, sweets.”

You lean down toward his face, finally pressing your lips to his. He groans into your mouth and pulls you down on top of him. When your legs are resting on either side of his thighs, he pulls your glass out of your hand and leans forward to put it on your coffee table. The moment both of your hands are free, they are all over him. They’re buried in his hair, running over his shirt, down to his hips, and anywhere else you could get your hands. The two of you simply kiss each other for long enough that you find yourself losing your breath.

“You’re wearing too much, baby,” Joel eventually mumbles in between kisses and pulls at the bottom of your shirt. You pull away from him for a mere moment so that you can pull your shirt over your head. The moment your shirt was off, Joel’s hands are on your bare breasts, palming them and warming them in his hands.

“God, Joel,” you moan as he pinches your nipples between his index finger and his thumb. He takes advantage of you pulling away from his lips to move his to your neck. You groan as he sucks a delicate mark at the base of your neck, and only momentarily worry about what the others in the commune will think. This worry is dissolved, however, when Joel moves his mouth towards your breast, leaving small bites and marks along the way. When his mouth finally latches onto your nipple, you let a louder moan out, causing Joel to slap a hand over your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet, sweets. Can’t wake her up.” Although you nod at his words, he keeps a hand over your mouth for another few minutes as he continues to work your nipple with his tongue. After a while though, you realize you’ve been grinding on Joel’s jeans, and there is now a wet spot from where you’ve leaked through your own pants. 

“God, baby, I’ve gotta get you out of these damn pants,” he swears, pulling off your chest for a moment to speak before reattaching himself.

“My room,” you pant, “let’s go to my room.”

With a show of strength that makes you yelp, Joel lifts you up and carries you in the direction of where you’d indicated your room to be. At your noise, Joel gives you a playful glare.

“What did I say about the noise?” He almost snarls as he pushes the door open and kicks it shut behind him. He drops you on the bed and you bounce once as he backs away to remove his clothes. “If you wake her up, we have to stop. Is that what you want? To stop?”

“No Joel, please,” you beg, shuffling out of your pants as he shucks his own down his legs. “I need you to touch me.” “Oh, you need me, do you?” you nod at his taunting, not caring how desperate you may seem. “Then you need to be quiet. I’ll touch you as much as you want as long as you keep your mouth shut. We’ll find a time for you to be as loud as you want because believe me, I want to hear you, but now cannot be the time.” You’ve been nodding along with him as he’d been speaking, resisting the pathetic urge to make grabby hands at him. He smirks down at you, acknowledging your obedience with a simple “Good girl,” before leaning back down to touch you. His touch is so much more present when he’s pressed on top of you, and you bite your lip so hard to keep your moans in your throat that you think you taste blood. Joel moves his way down your body, kissing every so often. Once he gets to where your panties block his access, he places a simple kiss on your covered core. You jump, shutting your eyes tight at the idea of what’s to follow.

“Can I take these off, beautiful?” Joel asks, running his fingers under the seams of your panties and letting the elastic snap gently against your sensitive skin. You nod, but he shakes his head at you, “When I’m asking you if I can do something, I need you to tell me out loud. Can’t be letting me do things you don’t want just because you don’t think you’re allowed to say no. You’ve gotta be quiet, but I need more than a nod, baby. That hasn’t changed in the time since we last did this.” “Yes Joel, please touch me,” you groan softly, dropping your head back against the bed as he pulls away the last barrier that is keeping him from your core. He groans at the sight of you, dropping his head onto your mound and breathing in the smell of you.

“God, I’ve missed this pussy,” he says before leaning in to kiss over your core, reaching everywhere but where you need him the very most. You bite your lip and arch into him, but he just chuckles. “You’ve gotta be patient, baby. I’ll get there, don’t worry.”

With that, he dives in.

The feeling of his mouth on you, the feeling of his nose bumping rhythmically against your clit almost makes you forget that you have to be quiet. Almost. You slap your hand over your mouth and press your head into the mattress below you as Joel swirls his tongue against you. He wraps his arms underneath your thighs and pulls himself impossibly closer to your core. He presses his tongue into you and it feels like someone’s lit a fire underneath you. His nose continues to bump against your bundle of nerves and you let your mouth fall open in a silent moan as you feel his fingers press into you and curl against your most sensitive spot. Every curl of his fingers knocks the air out of your lungs, and you can feel your orgasm approaching impossibly fast, so you reach down to grab at Joel’s hair.

“I’m–hah–” you squeak out, “I’m gonna–I’m gonna cum, Joel please–” you almost scream as he pulls away from you. The bottom half of his face is covered in your wetness, and he just smiles at you as though this isn’t the most obscene image you’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

“You didn’t think I’d let you come without me, did you?” He says smugly. You whimper at him. “Silly girl.”

He leans back down to reconnect your lips with his and pulls his boxers down his thick thighs. He grunts quietly at the feeling of his cock finally being freed from its confines. Joel pulls himself from your lips and leaves pecks haphazardly around your face and neck. This makes you giggle and you pull his face away from where it had been buried in your neck.

“Joel,” your face would have warmed at the breathiness of your voice if you’d had any semblance of personal shame left, but you don’t, so you continue, “please, I need you inside me.” Joel groans softly, leaning back down to place another kiss against your lips before he pulls away and grabs ahold of his cock. He lines himself up with your core and pushes inside. The stretch of him, after three years of having nothing more than your fingers inside of you, is unimaginable, and you squeeze your eyes shut. 

“You okay, sweets? You need a minute?” He stops moving his hips and his face is furrowed in concern.

“Just–” you huff, “you’re so big. Love your cock, Joel. Please keep going.” 

If Joel hadn’t already been at full mast, your begging praise would have made him even harder. He continues moving his hips, albeit more gently until he’s fully sheathed inside you. Here, he pauses, placing soft kisses over your eyes and cheekbones. You whine at him, silently begging him for more.

“Baby, you’ve gotta give it a minute. Want this to feel as good for you as it does for me.”

“Feels so good Joel,” you say softly, “please please please move,”

Joel doesn’t need you to tell him twice. He pulls out of you before pushing himself back in. He quickly sets a rhythm, and it's slow but deep. You can feel every vein and curve of his cock, every ridge of him is pressing against every ridge of you, and it makes you want to scream. You vaguely remember that you’re supposed to be quiet, so you press your hand over your mouth. Joel pushes your hand away though, and you’re momentarily confused before he replaces your hand with his own.

“Want to be able to feel your moans, baby. I can’t hear them right now, but I want to know how good I’m making you feel. I can’t get enough of you.”

This makes you moan against his hand, your back arching against him. His thrusts are hitting you exactly where you need them to, and you feel your orgasm approaching yet again. You assume that he can feel the way you’re clenching around his cock because he reaches one of his hands down toward your clit and begins rubbing furious circles. You squeak, pressing further into him and squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Come for me, baby,” Joel pants, his sentences short and to the point, “Come on, I know. You’ve been so good. I’m so close. Gonna fill you up. You want that?” Joel groans into your neck once he’s finished speaking as if his own words have gotten him closer to orgasm. You don’t realize you’re nodding until you can feel the scrape of his stubble against your cheek. You’re so close you can almost taste it, and you want it so bad that you can’t even think.

Your orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave, making your body tense and Joel groan. He follows soon after you, pumping you full of him. You moan softly at the feel of him flooding your insides, and you wrap your arms around the back of Joel’s head, pulling him ever closer. 

As the two of you come down from your respective peaks, you press Joel into your neck and he groans.

“God,” he mutters, “we’ve always been good at that, huh?”

You laugh, trying to push him gently off of you, but he doesn’t budge.

“Joel,” you groan in faux annoyance, “you’re too hot, get off of me.” Joel chuckles but relents. When he pulls out of you, you squeak in moderate discomfort, and he kisses the side of your head in an attempt to soothe you. It works, obviously.

He stands up and pulls his boxers back up his legs. You frown at the loss of your view, but the way he looks back at you makes your insides flutter.

“I’m gonna go get you a washcloth to clean you up a bit. You need anything? Some water?”

You feel your face warm in affection at him and you nod. He disappears momentarily, and a few seconds after you hear water running from your kitchen, he returns to you. He approaches you, handing you your water before leaning back down to your core to clean you off. You jump at the contact, still sensitive from your previous activities, but he consoles you with a kiss to your inner thigh. Once you’re all clean, Joel throws the washcloth somewhere in the room and crawls his way back up to you, flopping down at your side. The two of you just stare at each other for what feels like hours, though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. Eventually, you roll closer to him and press yourself into his side. You inhale deeply, noting the smell of sweat, sex, and Joel. You smile against his chest and wrap your arm around his midsection. You yawn.

“Go to sleep, honey,” Joel mumbles as he runs his hands over your body, “I’ll be here in the morning.”

-

let me know what y'all think! smooches and much love.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for fumbling a murder investigation?

(CW for descriptions of violence)

Five years ago, my partner M (26X) was murdered, and I have been searching for closure ever since.

As a leader in our society, as well as a performer, I am consistently in the public eye. M was from a humble background, but they rose to fame in the performing arts through sheer hard work. I admired that about them. I loved them deeply, I still do, and I was never ashamed of that – but I have spent enough time around high society to know that they would not be so kind to an outsider, and M wanted to find success on their own merit without being judged for their relationship with me. So we mutually agreed to keep our relationship private. I thought we were safe, until the night M’s troupe made their debut at the city amphitheater.

I had to miss the performance due to work obligations, but when I arrived on the scene, they were already gone, their body unrecognizable. The backstage area was burning, the evidence vanished. Their spirit, which would normally linger around after a person has died, was nowhere to be found. They were just…gone. The person who made me happiest was gone. It was the most painful moment of my life, matched only by my mother’s death when I was young. I swore then and there I would bring the killer to justice, no matter the time, no matter the cost.

The police didn’t find much after the incident, only a few inconclusive pieces of evidence and witness interviews that led nowhere. Then again, they aren’t very good at their jobs, so I have to do everything myself around here. In this case, I was more than willing to do it. All I found out was that two of M’s coworkers, T (then 28M) and R (then 27M) had been present at the time of the murder, but even that story had some holes in it. After I gathered all the information I could, there was still a missing piece: R, who fled the scene as soon as he could. I thought that was as good as an admission of guilt. He became our prime suspect, but we couldn’t find him anywhere. T, on the other hand, cooperated, supported me in my grief, and gave me key information while I investigated the crime. We had met before, but it was during this time that he became my friend.

Fast forward a few years and my other mom, who rules over a different region, mentions something about having a baby with a man she met. We aren’t very close with her, but my sibling S thought this was some juicy gossip, so they asked who the father was…and who does she say but R. S told her who R was and how I’ve been looking for him for five years. Understandably, she was floored, agreed to cooperate with the investigation and took the baby somewhere far away from him to keep them safe. Meanwhile, I felt vindicated. Like I finally had a lead in this case that had gone nowhere. Finally, I was going to find my partner’s killer, and I would do everything in my power to make him pay.

Here is the start of where I think I might be TA. I had tried contacting R and his husband, but I couldn’t pinpoint their exact location. That is, until I remembered the baby. I didn’t know where R was, but I could transmit messages to him via magic (sort of. I don’t expect you to understand) so I made up hints for him and his husband about the baby’s whereabouts. I admit, I lied to him, but he murdered the person I loved, so I thought it was justified. He takes the bait and buys a ticket to the place where I led him, giving me his address in the process. I send police to his house, arrest him, and finally bring him in for questioning.

It was supposed to be an easy case, open and shut, except he wouldn’t answer any of my questions about what happened to M. Kept saying he didn’t know even when I used every method to convince him. Then his husband shows up looking for him, does an entire independent investigation, and interviews everyone again. To me, it seemed a waste of time, since R was clearly the culprit. I was sure of it.

R was, in fact, not the culprit.

While I was keeping R in jail, trying in vain to pry information out of him, T was lying to R’s husband about every detail of the incident. He lied about everything. For five years. The lie that got him caught? He had been keeping DNA from M’s body – the body that he burned – at his house like some kind of sick trophy, and it was R’s husband who found it during the investigation. Other new evidence suggests that he found out about my relationship, thought M wasn’t good enough for me, and was trying to replace them. Worse, and this may have just been loneliness, but I was starting to think I might have feelings for him too. He’s always cared about social status, which I found a little annoying, but I understood. I just never thought he would stoop so low.

I feel sick. I feel betrayed and used. All the information he gave me was to throw me off the scent. The T that I knew never existed. It was all a façade.

I am disgusted with him, but also with myself. I feel like this is all my fault. M is still gone, and knowing the killer’s identity will never change that. R has been through hell because of me, he still doesn’t have his baby, and my mom still thinks he’s a killer. It’s a horrible situation all around, but I’m supposed to be better than this, and yet I feel that I made it worse. I guess I just wrote this to feel that I’m not alone.

AITA?

[tarnished-butsogrand]

Well, lately I feel like the wave of hate towards Liam was increasing, I thought it would decrease, that he would finally find peace and that this treatment of him wouldn't affect me, because he'll never read it, right? But I have a huge zeal for Liam's memory and this massive hate has been tormenting me. In my country (Brazil) I had to read a tweet about "not knowing if it would be better if Liam was alive tormenting Zayn on tour or if he was dead making Zayn pretend to care about him, since even dead he doesn't let Zayn and his fans have peace". That was a lot of X (disgusting social media) that I don't have anymore because I couldn't handle so much hate on Liam there.

Now I ask myself, why isn't Liam worthy of empathy like the other ex-1D members are? Why is Liam called an abuser (without evidence), but Zayn was prosecuted for hitting Gigi's mother and Louis hit a woman at an airport. Why is Liam accused of cheating on his girlfriends and Niall, who cheated and even got a song from her, wasn't attacked for it? Why is Liam accused of racism when HS was accused of Zionism and nothing happened? Why is Liam always attacked by solo fans as if his idols were an example of morality and ethics? Please, Lizzo publicly attacked Liam without even knowing him, a CONVICTED sexual harasser.

And I feel even more outraged by the fact that people still pretend that Niall and Harry were Liam's friends when in fact they only thought about protecting their own careers. Liam only had help from Louis, and still Louis was more destroyed than everyone else, even though he did so much for Liam. Zayn only feels guilty, and I feel sorry for him, but now nothing helps. They can pay a thousand tributes at shows, this pain will not diminish and he will have to deal with it for the rest of his life.

I'm tired of this empathy with those who never really loved Liam, who didn't even treat him with respect, with those who only used him when he was publicly positive marketing and then discarded him like trash. It wouldn't hurt to tweet asking them to treat Liam well, to be less cruel on the internet, but they didn't even do that. They don't deserve my respect, my empathy, or my forgiveness. I don't wish them anything bad, I want them to feel how Liam felt and I'm not ashamed of that.

(I don't need to send this anonymously, I'm not afraid, Liam was never afraid to say how he felt and be honest.)

The unkindness towards Liam that I have been witness to in the comparatively short while I have been in the One Direction online fandom is genuinely so heartbreaking. Even in his death, he cannot be left alone. Even in his death, people cannot find compassion for him.

And all these posts and tweets about Liam tormenting Zayn or any other member of the band- what's tormenting them is not Liam but their conscience. I am genuinely sorry for all the Zayn fans who have had to bear witness to him paying Liam a small tribute at the end of every show, I understand how difficult it must be for them to excuse their behaviour towards Liam when their own idol has chosen to walk a very different path.

What you said about the difference in people's reactions towards the allegations made against Liam versus the physical assault cases against Zayn and Louis has been running through my mind for a long time. It's almost like people don't want to believe anything bad when it comes to anyone else but with Liam -. Everyone else is innocent until proven guilty but Liam's always guilty until proven innocent. I am not saying that those allegations are false but he deserved to have a chance to say his own piece too. But now he will never get to. People overlook so much when it comes to anyone else but with Liam, they'll find the tiniest fault and make it into an opinion about his character.

You are right about everything else you've said. I have nothing more to add. In an ideal world everyone who had a part to play in this whole debacle would get what they deserve and maybe then people would learn empathy. But we don't live in an ideal world, and that's just sad.

Sending you love ❣️

[thatpodcastkid]

Magnus Archives Relisten 8, MAG 8 Burned Out

Mag 8 analysis! I have listened to this episode twice and am okay mentally.

Haha Burned Out. Get it like- Burned Out like- get it it's like- get it- because. Burned out

Facts: Statement of Ivo Lensik regarding his experiences during construction at 105 Hilltop Road. Statement given March 13, 2007.

Statement Notes: HILLTOP ROAD MENTION HILLTOP ROAD MENTION

I am mentally okay.

If you're not thinking about the meta or the entities in this episode, this is a haunted house. Not a superstructure or cursed land or living space, but a house possessed by what once lived within it. Raymond Fielding lived in this house, and then he died in it, and he is going to make this everybody else's problem. He has unfinished business, he has a message he is trying to send. The issue is, it's another 102 episodes before you hear it.

Entity Alignment: This episode has some obvious Desolation and Web elements, but I have what might be a hot take:

This episode features every entity.

This episode introduces us to the Web's ritual.

Hilltop Road was both Agnes' and Annabelle's childhood home, so it is inherently associated with the Desolation and the Web. Lensik fears that he is developing schizophrenia like his father, who studied fractals and describes a man with "all the bones are in his hands." This man is likely Michael, and this associates the episode with the Spiral. The incessant pursuit of an explanation for the fractals which ultimately leads to his death incorporates the Hunt. The tree bleeds as Lensik becomes blinded by his need to destroy it, depicting the Flesh and Slaughter respectively. The apple he discovers is full of spiders, but also rots on contact, bringing in the Corruption. The box he finds the apple in is Buried beneath the tree. Lensik says he avoids working at night or by himself because that is when the visions would occur, incorporating the Dark and the Lonely. When he first meets Raymond Fielding, he says he was "keeping one eye on this stranger," bringing in fear of the unknown and the Stranger. The house is haunted by the dead Raymond Fielding, incorporating the End. Throughout the piece, he describes a feeling of unease that he is being watched. This brings in the Eye.

The inherent flaw in my theory is, of course, I can't find a solid element of the Vast in this episode. A part of me felt that the use of Father Edwin Burroughs might count as God, which could be a seismic eldritch horror, but that's kind of a stretch. Still, this statement takes place 13 years before Cane finishes her ritual, so who knows what could have been brought in during that time.

Character Notes: Another little part of me wants Annie to be Annabelle Cane in disguise. Annie is described as a very old woman, and there's no evidence that Annabelle Cane can shapeshift or use mirages or anything like that, so there's no reason for me to think so and this is probably just another "Jonny Sims knows four names and one is his own" moment. But still, wouldn't that just be wild?

I found Ivo to be a really compelling character. He had a positive demeanor, an interesting backstory, and a very strong approach to dealing with the supernatural. Overall a cool guy and awesome character I would have liked to hear more from.

An exploration of young Agnes would be incredible too. When she was at Hilltop Road, did she already know she was "the messiah?" This stint in the halfway house raises questions about her timeline and the progression of The Lightless Flame's plans. Additionally, the neighbors report that the children began going missing after Agnes was brought in. I (want to) assume Agnes isn't killing them, so is it Raymond? Are Lightless Flame members taking them? Where do they go?

Agnes' death is such a visceral image. It's a brief paragraph at the end of the statement. It's one of Jon's "And yet..." moments, intended to leave you with just a little bit of fear when you unplug the headphones. But that connection to the tree, to her childhood home. It's a simple section of text, but so vivid and full of imagery and meaning.

When the statement ended, the only thought going through my head was, "Mean Jon! Mean mean Jon!" He was foul with this one. First he goes on a tangent about schizophrenia and head trauma being second only to drug use as a means of seeing ghosts, then he immediately roasts Gertrude's filing system again.

He loves to go off about Martin and Tim being incompetent compared to Sasha, but who found a history of the house's ownership? Who interviewed Anna Kasuma? Who found Agnes' death report? Ya bois.

[wildwinterlunas]

So, I don't exactly know if you've discussed this, but I think it's clear about what this current season is going to lead up to, and why I think it's so important to be adamant and weary about Null Sector's plans.

The evidence is there, and the claim?

Null Sector is trying to start another Omnic Crisis.

However, this one is less 'a glitch in the system'

And more, 'hitting the factory reset button and installing a virus intentionally right after.'

Why?

WELL BUCKLE UP YOUR BAMF BELT KIDDOS CAUSE THIS IS A TRIP AND A HALF.

As we know from story missions, Omnics are being subjugated and indoctrinated across the globe, all at once, in almost every part of the world by Null Sector and those helmets that quite literally place them under a catatonic state and wipe the Omnic's memories.

Torbjörn's analysis on the helmet is very clear when he brings up a very important piece of information:

"I don't know...this device is a nasty piece of work. I think I can get it off, but the bigger problem is, I'm not reading anything in the Omnic's memory banks."

"He's still alive, but it's like the essence of who he is,...is gone."

Now, when we say essence, I'm pretty sure we're saying the Iris, or Aurora's essence that was implemented during the awakening. Now I get what you're thinking. 'Ok Anon #324, but if the Iris gets removed, then why is Ramattra talking about Iris? During the Toronto mission?'

And to you- I say- oh ho ho, my dear, that's exactly what we should be fearing. Let it tie into the fact that there's also one of these Voicelines from Ram when talking about his favorite animal:

"Ants. They build marvelous structures and cooperate when threatened. I find them... Inspirational."

Toronto mission, hell, even the humans are terrified. Everyone is swarming in groups. It's not just gameplay either, when Sojourn is directing the groups of scared Omnics onto the ferry boat, it only proves Ram's point more. People are scared, people are grouping together to fight back, hide, run, and that's exactly what NS wants.

Not only is Null Sector wiping the Iris and awakening out of the Omnics altogether, they're creating a brand new version of the 'Iris'...let's call it 'Pink Eye' cause from what I've seen it's highly contagious. Not only from wiping memories, but also using the memories of strong fighters as well. Human's memories. (*Cough Cough* Ana.)

Have you heard Ram talking during the Toronto mission? He specifically states:

"Together, our one minded purpose. We will make this world, our paradise."

"We welcome you into the Iris."

----------

You let me know what you think about this. I wanna hear some raw thoughts. Big brain mode, no idea is a bad idea. I'm hungry for knowledge.

All I know is that, a couple of things could happen.

If those helmets are taken off, someone is going to have to sacrifice their memories either to bring back the original Aurora awakening and reinstall essence to the Omnics. Wonder who.

If NS ends up indoctrinating a major part of the Omnic population, many will die when and if those helmets do something else. If they can send out a location signal, who knows what else they'll do.

If sentience is reestablished into Omnics and possibly other software coding, this'll be one hell of a trip for all those Null Sector bots.

Man you had a brain blast and I. AM. LOVING IT!

Honestly I love your theory and I don't think there is much to add! It also is a good way to bring in the Junkers cause apparently he found the secret to Omnic life in the Australian omnium-

That could be a way to bring all the omnics back, the Australian Omnium was the place where Aroura was built after all. They could end up brining a second awakening, some residual of Aroura left in the Omnium. It could also lead to the sentience of the Null Sector drones, specifically the bots that are based off of actual people.

Like the C-455 Sharpshooter, P-900 Warhead, S-900 Sentry, A-7000 Wargod and K-2000 Blademaster. If they all have the same glitch that A-7000 has them that is one hell of an identity crisis they're going to have.

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

All that aside, I want to present my own theory. A counter theory if you will.

And that is Ramattra doesn't know that those helmets are erasing Omnics, he just thinks they are in a catatonic state. There is no indication that Ramattra knows what the subjection helmets are actully doing to Omnics.

If you look back at Ramattra's short story there is no implication of Ramattra wanting to create a new Omnic society through hitting a reset button;

There is an indication of imprisonment, of taking away other Omnics choices in order to make them listen, but that is very different from hitting a reset button. Essentially killing the soul of Omnics. It's something I don't see Ramattra doing knowingly. However, there is a group of people who would not only do this, but has tried to do this before.

Talon.

Something I remember from the Story Missions is Torbjourn saying that the helmets put an Omnics mind in a loop. It's something I didn't think much about. Until I read "The Hero of Numbani".

In that book Sombra hack and installs a virus several Omnics around Numbani. A virus that locks Omnics in a constant loop, and gradually corrupts the Omnics memories.

Sound familiar? There is also the fact that a part of Doomfist's beliefs that are presented in that novel are anti-omnic.

Not only that but I always found it strange that Dommfist, someone who wants conflict, would help someone who has the motivation of "Peace at any cost". Ramattra goal has and still is, for freedom and peace. Something that if he were to gain, would go against Doomfist's want for conflict.

Unless Doomfist is just using Ramattra and Null Sector as a tool to create conflict, adding either an updated version of Sombra's virus (or what he thinks is an updated version), to remove Omnics souls and create a true Second Omnic Crisis.

Not only that but that could also lead into an explanation on what "The Conspiracy" is, maybe it's another God AI who wants to do what Anubis did but has learned from the mistakes of the first Crisis and is trying to make it so they are guaranteed to win.

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

Either way I am excited for both of these theories, with the first one it's going to be interesting to just explore that aspect of Null Sector, if they get Omnics back are they going to still have their memories, their souls? Are they going to resort back to their basic programming, are they going to go back to being under Anubis's control?

In the case of the second theory, how will Ramattra react if he truly doesn't know what the helmets are doing? Will he stop the invasion? Will he double down? Will he go after Talon?

It's all so interesting!