#this unsolicited post brought to you today by:

[rafeysvenicebitch]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟHometown Baby *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

•6•

“AND SHES A HOMETOWN BABY, COULD YOU PUT YOUR PHONE DOWN MAYBE?”-OUT FRONT, JACK HARLOW

WARNINGS: Smuttt🤭, unprotected(WRAP BEFORE U TAP, please😭), and cussing

The envelope was gone. Zaria had thrown it in a drawer the morning after dinner with Jack, refusing to let it sit on her counter any longer like a silent accusation. The weight of it was still there, though, lurking in the back of her mind. Divorce. The word felt foreign to her, a label she never thought she’d wear.

Sia was over again, sprawled out on Zaria’s couch with a glass of wine in her hand. Her long braids hung over the armrest, and she was scrolling on her phone while occasionally giving unsolicited commentary.

“Girl, Mariah’s out here posting ‘soft life’ reels like she didn’t help wreck your marriage,” Sia said, shaking her head. “Talking about, ‘Peace over everything.’ Where was that energy when she was sneaking around with Chris?”

Zaria groaned, sinking deeper into the couch. “I don’t want to talk about Mariah.”

“You don’t have to, but I’m gonna say it: she’s trifling. And Chris? Double trifling.”

“Sia…”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Sia said, holding up her hands. “But for real, how are you holding up?”

Zaria shrugged. “I’m…managing. Jack’s been a distraction, at least.”

“Oh, we’re talking about Pineapple Juice now?” Sia grinned, sitting up. “Girl, he is fine fine. And the way he looks at you? Whew. I’m rooting for y’all.”

“There’s no ‘y’all,’ Sia. We’re just friends.”

“Friends don’t plan private dinners at bougie restaurants,” Sia teased, sipping her wine.

Zaria rolled her eyes but didn’t respond. The truth was, Jack had been on her mind more than she wanted to admit. His texts, his laugh, the way he made her feel seen. It was refreshing after years of feeling invisible.

Her phone buzzed on the table, breaking her thoughts. Sia snatched it before Zaria could reach it, cackling when she saw the name.

“Pineapple Juice strikes again!” she sang, holding the phone just out of reach.

“Give it back!” Zaria lunged for it, laughing despite herself.

Sia finally handed it over, and Zaria opened the message.

Pineapple Juice 🍍:

Thought about you today. You good?

Her heart did that stupid little flutter it always did when he texted.

Wifey 💍:

Better now. What’s up?

Pineapple Juice 🍍:

You free tonight?

Zaria hesitated. Dinner had been nice, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for a repeat so soon.

“Soooo?” Sia asked, nudging her.

Zaria sighed“He wants to hang out,”making her tone as casual as possible.

“And you’re saying yes, right? Girl, don’t overthink it. Go have fun! You deserve it.” Sis exclaimed, her voice full of excitement.

After a long pause, Zaria typed back.

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

Wifey 💍:

Fine. But nothing fancy this time.

Pineapple Juice 🍍:

Deal. I’ll pick you up at 8.

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

Jack arrived right on time, leaning casually against his car when she walked outside in ripped jeans, sneakers, and a simple black tank top.

“Look at you,” he said, his eyes lingering just a little too long. “Still managed to outdress me.” He lightly chuckled.

She smirked. “You’re lucky I didn’t cancel.”

“Cancel? You’d miss out on all this quality time with me?” he teased, opening the car door for her.

Instead of a restaurant, Jack drove them to a small art gallery tucked away downtown. The space was intimate, with vibrant paintings and sculptures from local Black artists lining the walls.

“You brought me to an art show?” Zaria asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I figured you’d like it,” Jack said, shrugging. “Plus, I wanted to support this spot. They’re doing something cool for the community.”

Zaria was surprised—and impressed. She didn’t expect Jack to be into something like this, but she wasn’t mad about it.

As they walked through the gallery, Jack stayed close, his arm occasionally brushing against hers. It was such a subtle thing, but every accidental touch sent a little spark through her.

At one point, they stopped in front of a painting of a woman sitting on a throne, her expression fierce and unyielding.

“That’s you,” Jack said softly, nodding toward the painting.

Zaria tilted her head, studying it. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re a queen,” he said, his voice low and earnest.

She looked away, her cheeks warming. “You’re so corny.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

After the gallery, Jack drove them to a food truck park. They sat on a bench under string lights, sharing a plate of tacos and laughing over nothing and everything.

When he dropped her off later, Jack walked her to the door again, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said, leaning against the doorframe as she gave Jack a sweet smile that made his heart flutter.

“Anytime,” he replied. “And hey—don’t let those papers get to you. You’re too good for all that.”

His gaze lingered on her, soft and full of something that made her stomach flip. She could feel the tension between them, thick and undeniable.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked, the words leaving her lips before she could stop them.

Jack raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Are you sure?”

Zaria nodded, stepping aside to let him in. The tension in the room shifted the moment the door clicked shut. Jack stood close—too close—and the heat between them was almost tangible.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low, searching her face.

She nodded, but her breath hitched when his fingers brushed her cheek, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. The touch lingered longer than necessary.

“You make it hard to leave,” Jack murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips.

“Then don’t,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on his.

Jack’s hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer, their breaths mingling in the quiet. When his lips finally met hers, it wasn’t tentative—it was hungry, like he’d been holding back for too long.

Zaria melted into him, her hands gripping his shirt as if anchoring herself. His touch was steady, firm, as his lips moved against hers, igniting something deep and unspoken between them.

“Z,” Jack breathed, his voice rough as he pulled back just enough to look at her. “Are you sure?”

Instead of answering, she took his hand, leading him toward her bedroom.

This time, neither of them hesitated.

He helped her take off her shirt and began kissing down her neck.

“Jack” She whispered, putting her hands on his shoulders. Just feeling her hands on his shoulders made him elated, as if everything in life had finally clicked in place.

He took that as a sign to put her gently on the bed and yank her shorts off. He blew a low whistle,”Damn, you’re just as beautiful as I remembered.”he said as his eyes hovered over your body.

“And you’re just as handsome as I remembered.” She smiled shyly at him.

He kissed up from her lower stomach to her lips,making her breathe heavy, then paused, sighing.

“Why’d you stop?” Zaria spoke out is short breaths.

He sighed again,”Just need you to be sure that—that……I mean, I don’t want you to do this cause you’re heartbroken. And I don’t want you doing this because you’re upset at Chris.”

She chuckled,”Fuck Chris, I don’t give a shit about him.” She sat up, pouting,”I need you bad Jack Jack.” She whined out, her frustration evident.

He nodded,”Yes ma’am.” He gently pushed her on her back and slipped off her panties. Jack licked a trail up her slit.

Zaria moaned,”Fuckkk.”

He teased her with one finger and slipped in another, going at a slow pace.

“Yessss! Jackk, keep going!!” She gasped.

He increased his speed and started sucking her clit.

“Jackkk!” She screamed, which made him go crazy.

Then he stopped again with a smirk on his face and stood back up, taking of his shirt and loosing his belt.

Zaria groaned,”Again?!”, she thought she was about to reach her peak.

He nodded,”Yes ma’am.” He said again, affirmatively.

“Just fuck me already!” Zaria groaned out of frustration.

He crossed his arms,”Ask nicely, no attitude.”

She rolled her eyes, too impatient for his games.

He scoffed,”Fix your face, love.”

She smiled as sweetly as she could, trying to be convincing,”Can you pretty please with a cherry on top, fuck me?”

He smiled,”Better, now lay down.” Zaria lied down, spreading her legs. He lined himself before easing himself in. He whispered in her ear,”I’ve been fantasying about this since the party.” He put the rest of himself in with a groan and started with a slow pace.

She moaned,”Jackkk!” He increased his pace, straightening back up with his hands on her hips.

“You feel so good around me, baby.” Jack grunted,”Keep squeezing me just like that.” He kept pounding into her, as he breathed heavily, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

”I’m gonna cum..” she whimpered between moans.

He chuckled,”Speak up ,baby.”

She moaned,”I’m gonna cum, fuckk! Jackkk!!” All the built up tension she had built up over these weeks and months had been released. She hadn’t felt so relaxed since her constant fights with Chris.

Shortly after, he pulled out and released on her stomach ,”Damn, that was amazing.” He panted.

Zaria smiled,”I hadn’t been fucked that good since high school, Chris doesn’t even hold a candle up to you.”

“I know, and I could tell.” He said cockily as he rolled over beside her,”Let’s go get cleaned up, you’re staying the night baby.”

>>>

“How you feeling?” Jack asked, holding her close while drawing circles on her back.

“Really good.” Zaria smiled, still drunk on the feeling, looking up at him.

Zaria rested on his chest, finally feeling less worry and tension. Everything felt so natural ,like Jack had never been out of her life.

A/N: WHEWWW😮‍💨, I have NOT written smut for 2 yearssss. I literally had a full body cringe while writing this😭😭😭buttt thank you to @strawberries-and-lots-of-kisses for revising and giving me suggestions for this, it rlly helped🫶🏾🫶🏾

Taglist: @strawberries-and-lots-of-kisses @itsyagirljaz @blackynsupremacy @neptilius @harlowsbby @harlowcomehome

@slutzzz4jack @harlowsslut @harlowslut

Message me if u want to be part of the taglist

[seariderfalcon]

I've been on the internet daily since 2001 but today I unlocked a new achievement.

🎉 First time I've been told I should kill myself! 🎉

First time that I've been obviously blocked, too, I think. Truly banner day for me. Of course, it had to be over the dumbest thing possible, lol.

For context, @brittanias reblogged an H-Money poll with the most blatantly jokey commentary on the way the stats were shaking out for a Grade This Ship poll (A+ in first place, and somehow C- in second...that leap between grades was just a little bemusing is all). The account owner blew up at B in a rude dm, blocked her, and then posted that bizarre essay. It was a massive overreaction to an extremely tame bit of hyperbole.

My previous reblog is the only interaction I had with the above account (other than quietly voting on a few of the polls). I was perhaps a tiny bit snarkier than strictly necessary, but nowhere near reaching my final form in terms of being an asshole. I thought I was fairly calm and measured in my response, all things considered, though I did figure I'd probably get some huffy pushback and maybe earn a block, too.

And then I got this unhinged piece of work in my dms. Yeah. I think I absolutely called it when I suggested the account owner lacks a certain maturity that's generally required to run a wide-scale account of this nature.

Anyway. Neither of us brought up any other ship. Or suggested that people who don't like H-Money are idiots. Literally putting words in our mouths that were never even hinted at. And I'm dying know what constitutes "creepily obsessed." I'm pretty sure we both use our blogs the same way nearly every other fannish blog does.

Also, I am absolutely rolling over the "it's not even a real ship" slam. Babe, it's real enough that you are literally running a poll for it right now, lol.

Plus, getting mad and claiming that we called others idiots (nope) and then essentially calling me the same thing is certainly A Choice. It's also not inane, unsolicited, or utterly useless to defend a friend, especially when you know theyre being accused of something they obviously didn't do (B, I know we're not like super close, but my god, we've been mutuals on several platforms going back to when BSG was still airing...I think I've got a grasp on your sense of humor at this point, and I will absolutely defend you and anyone else in my orbit).

Lastly, there's like a whole little group praying for my imminent demise? Fun! But sorry to disappoint. I shall live to see another day. Fastest way to lose any argument, btw.

[pinkertinn]

CleonWeek - Day 5 Daughter, Not by Blood

Title: Weddings Always Make me Cry Summary: Father - Giver of unconditional love and unsolicited advice WordCount: 1,700 Cross posted to AO3

The soft glow of candlelight filled the chapel as everyone stood, their eyes fixed on the bride. She moved slowly, gracefully, the train of her dress whispering over the floor. But Claire’s gaze wasn’t on the bride—not entirely. Her attention kept drifting to the man walking her down the aisle. His broad shoulders, the set of his jaw, and the way he moved with quiet strength stirred something deep in her chest. That quiet strength reminded her of someone she’d looked up to her whole life, someone who had always been her rock. Watching him now brought a familiar ache—an echo of the past.

It was hard not to draw comparisons. Looking up to a man only a few years older than yourself, yet one who’d shouldered the weight of the world for you. They grew up too quickly—because they had to.

In another life, Chris would have been the one walking her down the aisle, guiding her toward something new, something filled with hope. She blinked back the sudden sting in her eyes. The memory of growing up with Chris was always there, like an anchor. But seeing this man at Sherry’s side today, stepping into that same role, brought back too much—too much love, too much pain.

There was a time when it had been just the three of them: her, him, and Sherry. A makeshift family, fighting to survive in a world that had turned against them.

But this man wasn’t Chris. He was something else entirely. He could’ve been an older brother to Sherry, with how fiercely he had protected her, but that wasn’t quite right either. He was more than that—had always been more than that. He was her father in all the ways that mattered, just as Chris had been a father to her when she needed one most. The parallel struck her deeply, and her chest tightened. If she ever found herself in Sherry's place, it would be Chris walking beside her. Just like this. It was a role that could only belong to someone who loved you as deeply and unconditionally as they did.

Later, after the ceremony, the crowd had dispersed to the reception, the laughter and chatter mingling with the clink of glasses. She found herself gravitating toward the bar, her fingers wrapping around a champagne flute. The bubbles fizzed quietly, like the tension she hadn’t quite let go of, still tangled up in her chest.

And then, there he was. He approached slowly, hands tucked into his pockets, his stance hesitant. They hadn’t spoken in so long, the air between them filled with the weight of things unsaid, but here he was, as if time had only pulled them further apart and yet closer together all at once.

"Hey," he murmured, eyes soft yet distant, the same way they always were when he wasn’t sure what to say.

"Hey," she replied, barely above a whisper. Her voice caught, as if stuck somewhere in the space between past and present.

He ordered a drink, something dark and simple, and they stood there for a moment, not looking directly at each other, but aware of the other's presence.

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” she offered, breaking the silence, trying to bridge the awkwardness that clung to them.

“Yeah,” he nodded, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “She… she’s really grown up.”

“She has,” she agreed, though the words tasted bittersweet. For a moment, she was back in Raccoon City, holding Sherry’s small, trembling hand, telling her everything would be alright even though nothing was certain. That girl had been so strong, so much stronger than they were at the time. She had survived, thrived even, because of him. “She’s everything we hoped she’d be.”

He looked down at his glass, swirling the liquid inside slowly, his brow furrowing slightly, lost in thought. “She is.”

The quiet between them stretched, filled with unspoken memories. It was impossible not to feel the weight of what they’d once had—brief and fragile, a shared life that had unraveled far too quickly.

Her mind wandered back to the day they broke apart. 2001. It felt like a lifetime ago, but the details remained vivid. They had been living together for a while, trying to make it work, but she could feel the distance growing. Boot camp, missions, obligations—his life had swallowed him whole, and she had been left in the margins. She’d made a mistake. Something so stupid. A kiss with someone she worked with. She couldn’t even remember the guy’s name anymore. It had meant nothing, but she’d told him immediately, expecting it to end them.

She had done it on purpose, pushing him away so he wouldn’t feel like he owed her anything. He had sacrificed too much already, for her, for Sherry, for a life he didn’t choose. She had wanted to give him an out.

Instead, he had begged her to stay. He had asked if she loved the other man, his voice quiet, steady, but she could see the hurt in his eyes. She had lied, told him she did, hoping it would be enough. But he had seen through it, his gaze full of a resignation that broke her heart. He didn’t push after that. He just let her go.

As she packed up the remnants of their shared life, her fingers brushed against a worn envelope, half-hidden beneath a stack of forgotten papers in the back of his dresser drawer. It was creased from being handled too many times, the ink on the front faded but still legible: Leon Scott Kennedy. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she opened it, expecting to find something mundane—some forgotten bill or letter.

But the official seal at the top caught her eye immediately—Department of Child Welfare. She read the first few lines and felt the breath leave her lungs.

"Petition for Adoption of Minor: Sherry Birkin."

The words blurred in front of her as her throat tightened. Attached was a letter, tucked into the folds, typed neatly but full of raw, personal hope.

Her hands trembled as she held the letter, the depth of what he had been trying to do washing over her. He had never mentioned it, never asked her for advice or told her how much he'd fought for Sherry behind the scenes. He’d always carried the weight alone, shouldering the burden quietly, just as he did with everything.

She sat on the edge of their bed, her vision swimming with unshed tears. He had been ready to take on a life that wasn’t his, to fight for a girl who wasn’t his by blood, to keep her safe, no matter the cost. He was always like that. Always willing to sacrifice more than anyone asked of him.

Her chest ached with a confusing mix of guilt and sorrow. She never told him she found the paperwork, never revealed how much it broke her heart to know what he had been through, what he had been denied. He had tried, but the petition had been blocked, a cold bureaucratic stamp at the bottom of the page rejecting his application. The government had their hands on Sherry and wouldn't let her go.

It wasn’t fair.

And it was then, sitting there with those papers spread across her lap, that she realized she couldn’t let him keep sacrificing everything for her, for Sherry. He deserved a life that was his own. He deserved more than this—the life of obligations that had been forced upon him.

But now, as they stood together at the bar, that moment felt like a lifetime ago. She looked up at him, seeing the traces of that same man who had fought for Sherry in every quiet glance, every careful word. He hadn’t changed much, except the shadows under his eyes had grown a little deeper, the lines around his mouth more pronounced.

She let out a soft breath, a bitter smile forming on her lips as she finally spoke the words she had never said back then. “I found the adoption paperwork once, you know. All those years ago. I never told you.”

His eyes flickered in surprise, his brow furrowing in the way it always did when he was caught off guard. “You did?”

She nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment. “You were trying to adopt her. To get her out from under the government’s thumb. You were doing everything you could.”

He exhaled slowly, the weight of the memory pressing down on both of them. "Yeah. I tried. But they wouldn’t let me.” His voice was rougher now, thick with emotion he rarely let slip through.

She could see the frustration, the helplessness that had gripped him back then, still simmering beneath the surface. It was the same feeling she carried—the knowledge that they had tried to save Sherry in every way possible, only to be met with walls too high to climb. They had both done their best, and yet it had never felt like enough.

But she met his gaze again, this time with a soft smile, a quiet warmth spreading through her chest. “You know… it doesn’t take documentation to make someone your family.” Her voice wavered, but she pressed on. “It doesn’t take blood, or papers, or a judge’s approval. It just takes loving them.”

He looked at her, eyes searching, as if trying to understand why she was bringing this up now. But then, something in his expression softened, and he nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Then…” he said, his voice quieter now, almost tender, “you and Sherry will always be my family.”

The words settled between them, heavy and real. They had both been through so much, and somehow, even after everything, even after the break-up, the distance, and the years apart, they still shared this—this unspoken bond. This family they had built together, even if they hadn’t realized it at the time.

And as the hum of the reception carried on around them, she felt a gentle warmth settle inside her, a quiet understanding that perhaps, like family, some bonds weren’t made to be broken—not by time, distance, or even blood. They simply endured, unshaken and whole.

[denial-permanente]

Hi, I just wanted to let you know how much I enjoy your blog but also how much of help it has been for me personally. I've seen how frustrating your blog can be from all the weird comments and unsolicited pics people send you. My wife and I started on our own chastity journey just over a year ago and your blog is one of the resources that is most helpful to me. Obviously I love the images you post but the insight into your relationship is of most value. We've always had a great marriage but our sex life could have been better...it happens to most of us I'm sure. We had several discussions about this over time but I knew deep down the issue was mostly down to my masturbation habit. Again probably something most married.men are guilty of. I think it was a habit or addiction. I brought up using a chastity cage after one of our discussions/arguements and the benefits it could bring to our relationship. I also confessed about my masturbation habit and how I needed help to fix it. My wife was actually happy about my suggestion and willing to try it. We read some books and blogs and ordered a cage. Fast forwarding to today, we currently practise a 6 week lock up period. My wife finds this the most acceptable period as she notices a low interest week after a release. So there are 5 weeks when I'm particularly affectionate and attentive. She is not a dominating type like yourself and we just have a normal marriage. In the future I do crave that she decides to move to permanent chastity and no piv sex. But that would be down to her and I think it best to not push for that or tell her that is my desire. Maybe that's the wrong choice though, I just think that will worry her. I've ordered a vixskin like yourselves as I think that will help her with missing piv sex and may lead to a longer lock up time. Thanks again.

First, congratulations on figuring out where some of your problems have been and good luck on your efforts to fix things. I just want to mention something about moving to "permanent" lock up. This is not just for you, I see this with a lot of the men who leave comments.

I get that the idea of being locked up forever is hot. Once I got into the idea of keeping my husband locked, we both used to tease each other along with bedroom talk about him being locked for really long term (like 5 or 10 years) or even for the rest of his life. I'd imagine my husband forever frustrated and full of desire for me. I'd imagine the power I had over him that way. It was exciting and arousing to talk about. And naturally he felt the same way.

But... that was me. And him. And I don't think that what we do is for everybody. And certainly I can imagine that a lot of women would not want to do this, or would be comfortable with the idea. A lot of men seem to get all horny and then dump all these fantasies on their wives, and you don't understand how it might freak them out a little.

It seems that your wife is enjoying what you're doing. Give it some time. Let her enjoy what she's doing. Let her take your fantasy and try to fit it into her own mind. It may not be your fantasy, but isn't it belter to have one that you can share and make a reality?

[thestalwartheart]

Oh boy I am so sorry (and incandescent) that you had to experience the entitlement of this heinous loser commenting their Opinions on your fics 💀 I mean I’ll first say that I love your stories. You’re one of the first 00Q writers I read and I was later so delighted to find that you also had a tumblr and I could read your non-fic thoughts and fandom joys. All your stories are so full of heart and the way you convey the characters’ emotions is so chefs kiss. Also whenever I see that one tumblr post that jokes but also makes the genuine point that character and thematic analysis can in fact go hand in hand with characters boning, I immediately think of you 🤣

Even if I lived in a timeline in which I somehow wasn’t touched by your stories and characterizations of Bond and Q and other characters, I would still be so appalled that this person felt the need to leave their rancid takes on your stories. This person really typed out their words, thought “Yeah, I did something!” and then clicked Send.

I still can’t believe there are people who will find something that isn’t for them and then believe that means they can treat the creator… however they wish. I wasn’t aware that everything in the world had to be catered to their tastes lest their be consequences.

“Then don’t share your work!” some might say. It seems to me that people who genuinely believe this argument treat unsolicited comments as a force of nature rather than something people can choose not to do. I know not to leave food out overnight because that might attract bugs into my home. Bugs are a force of nature. Neither I nor the bugs can control their need to scavenge for food, so it’s on me if I leave food out. Creators can’t control every person who comes across their work but said persons can make decisions for themselves to not be a shit.

Oh, Anon. Thank you for this message. It was so heartening to read and just the reminder I needed that while people on the internet can and do spend their time typing out truly hateful nonsense, there are people out there who spend their time writing kind things, too. And I'm so lucky here on tumblr to have cultivated this community where we're all so supportive of each other ❤️

And while I'm here, thank you to everyone else who has been so kind to me this morning too, either in AO3 comments, in my tumblr replies, or in my DMs. You're all gems. I'm fine, I promise.

Today was actually a lesson in how far I've come as a recovering people pleaser. A while ago, these comments would have bothered me immensely. Now, I've done my ranting, blocked the commenter, and I'm good. I'll stick to getting my constructive criticism from writers and editors I trust, and whose opinions aren't simply a word vomit of their own issues masquerading as an objective critique.

To end on a happier note, this comment:

whenever I see that one tumblr post that jokes but also makes the genuine point that character and thematic analysis can in fact go hand in hand with characters boning, I immediately think of you

has brought me UNTOLD joy about my impact on this fandom 😂 Boning as character analysis is so important to me, truly!!!

Thank you for this lovely message, friend. I appreciate you so much, and I'm so glad you're not only enjoying my stories, but my presence on this hellsite too. ❤️❤️❤️

[foreverisntenough]

https://www.tumblr.com/foreverisntenough/781543235591012352/fies-unsolicited-soliloquy-i-didnt-edit-th

Fie I read every word of this, and I want you to know I see you. Not just the writer, not just the words and stories but you. The human behind the polished paragraphs and quiet vulnerability. I don’t think your post is a complaint or a cry for attention at all. It reads like someone just trying to breathe underwater, trying to name the ache that too often goes unnoticed. And I’m really sorry you’ve been carrying that weight mostly alone.

You are not invisible. You matter. Even if it sometimes fails to reflect that back to you the way you deserve. Even if people scroll past, even if the silence is deafening, what you’re creating has value because you exist, because your effort and intention and heart are real and we can all see that!

I love ur blog so much and I wish I could take away your pain, and not because I love ur stories (I do) or because of Trent but because of you! I love ur post talking abt ur love for fashion or ur opinion on different things! I see you i really do!

Oh wow. This brought tears to my eyes in the gentlest way. Thank you for writing something so full of tenderness and truth—I read every word too, and I felt held in a way I didn’t even realize I needed.

You put it so beautifully—trying to breathe underwater, trying to name the ache. That’s exactly what it’s been. Not attention-seeking or dramatics, just a quiet struggle to stay afloat when things feel too heavy and too invisible. And reading your message... it was like coming up for air.

To know that someone sees me—not just the fiction, not just the curated bits of prose—but me, the human with all the fragile parts... it really does mean more than I can ever say. I’ve spent so long trying to pour love and care into the stories and this space, and sometimes it’s hard not to wonder if that love ever finds its way back. But this? This was love returned.

Thank you for reminding me that my presence matters, even when it feels small or uncertain. Thank you for seeing me outside of Trent, outside of the stories—even in my random posts about fashion or fleeting thoughts I never think twice about sharing.

I’m going to hold this close for a long time. Sending you the biggest hug, truly. You’ve given me something so soft and necessary today 🤍 Fie xx

[teenmomcentral]

Tyler Baltierra defended his wife’s honor after some of his Instagram fans used Tyler’s newly buffed body as a reason to shame Catelynn Lowell into working out more. 

On Sunday, the Teen Mom: The Next Chapter star took to social media to show off the progress he’s made in his fitness journey over the last year, earning him lots of kudos from fans, as well as his wife Catelynn.

“I still have a long way to go until reaching my goals, but I like to post my progress as a reminder to myself of where I started, how far I’ve come, & why I keep putting in the work!” Tyler wrote in his thirst-trap photo caption.

While many fans took to the comment section to praise Tyler for the hard work he’s been putting in at the gym, the shirtless selfies also garnered some hateful words directed at Cate, with one person suggesting that Cate go “get on that treadmill” and “get healthier” in order for her and Tyler’s lifestyles to be “in sync.”

Tyler responded with a lengthy comment defending his wife and their relationship, while also telling the body-shamers to “leave [Cate] alone” and stop comparing their “own individual journeys.” 

“Whoa hold up, absolutely NOT! She doesn’t need a treadmill for her body to be desirable to me or for our lives to be in ‘sync,’ are you [for real] right now!?” Tyler wrote.

“That woman’s body has brought 4 of my beautiful children into this world!” Tyler wrote in defense of Cate. “That body has been with me through everything! That body has fought through hell & back to be the woman & wife she is today!”

“That body has held & nurtured my children,” he continued. “That body has even held me like a baby at times when I was at my breaking point…so DON’T YOU DARE tell my wife what she needs to do with her body … .

“We don’t outgrow each other, we GROW WITH EACH OTHER, through every high and low!” Ty continued. “Her body is perfect TO ME and that’s all that matters….” 

Tyler proceeded to screenshot his response and share it to his Instagram Story, along with a message to all of his followers. 

“If you share this woman’s opinion, please do me a favor & unfollow me,” he wrote on Instagram Stories. “I have no room for this type of energy! All I’m doing is sharing my OWN INDIVIDUAL fitness journey & every time I share it, people have to share their unsolicited opinion about my wife & I’m sick of it! 

“If you don’t support my wife, then you don’t support me & I don’t want you here,” he continued. 

Fans later applauded Tyler for speaking up for his wife; however an exchange between Tyler and the guy Cate’s brother has claimed is Ty’s rumored boyfriend had some criticizing the #GirlDad.

(As The Ashley previously told you, Cate’s brother Nick alleged on Instagram Live last month amid a very public family feud that Tyler is in a secret relationship with a music artist in Arizona named Sik World–real name John.)

Sik World jumped into the comment section of Tyler’s post on Monday to compliment Tyler’s “gains,” with both he and Tyler going on to make multiple jokes about the rumor of their secret relationship.

“Damn!” Sik World wrote. “My apparent secret boyfriend making all kinds of gains BEAST!” 

“@sikworld YO! I’m so dead right now lmao!,” Tyler replied.

Tyler and Sik World continued to make light of the rumors surrounding them, with the former calling out the latter for being “so bad at hiding our secret.” 

“That’s it, we’re breaking up, I can’t trust you anymore!,” Tyler told Sik World. 

The friends ultimately exchanged comments insisting that they were being “sarcastic” about the whole thing, while acknowledging there would still be people who would take what they were saying seriously.   

“@tylerbaltierramtv [despite] these clearly sarcastic comments, the fact SOMEONE out there will read these and think ‘yup… I knew it’,” Sik World wrote, to which Tyler replied, “@sikworld & that’s literally the best part about it all lmao!” 

[hummingbird-games]

I need visual novel enthusiasts to stop saying they’re not gamers/not “real” gamers.

Yes you are.

Yes, you are.

Yes you are.

[xxtha-blog]

Hello, I have an announcement to make. I will be calling out myself today.

It’s been brought to my attention something that happened just over 2 years ago has been brought back, so I’d like to talk about it:

So here’s a story. If you follow my blog you know I’m very critical of a lot of things, especially surrounding Dreamtale AUs. Now, I believe in one very important thing when I criticize things: No one deserves unsolicited criticism. Thus I tag/warn/hide all my stuff so those who continue reading it are prepared and I NEVER send my stuff to the creators of the work. EVER. If they’re in a server and I want to talk about it with someone, I move to DMs. If I get asked an opinion on tumblr I tag that shit with warnings, put on a read more label, and keep my criticism as constructive and analytic as possible.

So what does this have to do with anything. Let’s go back to November 2019. It was just prior to Dreamtale being continued, and a peak everyone hates Dream and knows nothing about his character. So if you think I dislike Dream alts and AUs now, it was a lot worse back then. Especially about one particular AU: Shattered Dream. One day I sat down and wrote a very long vent/rant essay on Shattered Dream, put all my emotions into it, then put it down and promised never to touch the AU again. I had it written down, it was done. No more would I rant about Shattered Dream. I had already put every opinion I could think of in a stupid document to get it out of me. The only people that were supposed to see that rant essay bullshit were my friends. It was meant to be private. It wasn’t constructive criticism. It wasn’t nice. I put all the frustration I possibly could into that thing. And I absolutely NEVER wanted it to be read by the creator. Why would I, it was me being an asshole for like 10 solid pages. It was just every problem I personally had, written down for me to get tf over it. I didn’t post it anywhere but my dms/private server. For any of my followers on this blog, you’ve probably never heard about/read this thing for a reason. I never posted it here, and if you do read it now, know I certainly don’t stand by the things I said in it.

However, me being a dumbass, I thought it was fine where it was. Discord. There was no possible way it could get out there. It was in a google doc. It was tagged with a big content disclaimer at the top for my friends (because a few of them did like the au). I did not post it anywhere beyond my own private dms and discord channels.

And the worst possible thing happened to that document.

Someone sent it to the creator. And they read it. And I was fucking mortified. I don’t know how they found it and I don’t know who sent it to them and I immediately asked to talk to them in discord so I could apologize. I also disabled the link for it to remove access since it had gotten out.

They sent me a message something along the lines of: I don’t want to hear your apology, what’s done is done, just take it down. And I was blocked before I could send a single message. I obviously had taken it down. The link they currently have posted it is a copy of it, the original was deleted.

So shit. I felt terrible. I believe very strongly in the idea that you should make things for yourself and nothing but yourself, I’d never want my opinions to genuinely affect someone’s ability to create, that’s terrible, that’s not what criticism should be ever. And then they quit their AU and I felt even more abysmal. And the situation was essentially the equivalent of someone screenshotting or copy pasting some shitty rant you made in a discord server about an AU, and having it sent anonymously to the creator. I had a false sense of security it was safe. I shouldn’t have. That was stupid. That will forever be on me.

Now, present day, they post a copy of the essay on their blog and say it was sent anonymously to them. I can promise you I would never send that to them or anyone connected to them. That’s insane. It was not me who sent it, but I am genuinely so fucking sorry you had to read that. I am so sorry for the pain it caused you, for the demotivation, for the loss to your followers of an AU they loved. It was not meant for you. It was not meant to accuse you of anything. it was solely a vent, full emotional bs rant keyboard smashed onto a page. If I could go back and redo things, it would never have been written in the first place. I wish you had continued your AU. I really wish none of this had happened.

I have been waiting 2 years to be able to say that. @shattereddreamsau I know nothing I say can make up for the two years, but if you’d be willing to talk about anything, I’m fully open to making up for this in any way I can. I know I can’t take it back, the internet lives on forever, but know that I will do whatever it takes to make it better if you’re open to that. If not, and I totally understand if you want absolutely nothing to do with me, but I do hope you see this and know I am truly sorry. If you do reply, I ask we continue it privately so we can sort this out away from tumblr.

I avoided making this type of post on tumblr for the last two years to avoid other people getting involved and to avoid causing you more problems, but since the essay has now been posted here, I am here to take responsibility for writing it.

I appreciate the effort people put into AUs even if I don’t like them. I hope you know I appreciate different opinions on AUs. I’m glad to see people find enjoyment out of things I do not. I do not ever want to take that away from someone, and I hope in the last two years, you have seen me make an effort to keep my criticisms properly hidden/tagged and short/respectful. AUs are supposed to be fun. I never want something like this to happen again and will do my best to make sure it doesn’t.

[theglowstickchronicles]

Hi, we’ve never talked and you don’t follow me but I’ve been following you a little while. I just really feel compelled to mention this to you. There’s a lot of research available about how badly artificial sweeteners worsen IH. I know this is unsolicited advice/ info but I’ve read your posts about it and since I have the info I just had to pass it along. Obviously that’s not the only thing but your post today almost brought tears to my eyes. Doctors do not keep up with research as you well know. They are at least 10 years out from practicing, in office, what is found by researchers etc. I’ve been so tempted to share other things with you but I also know some people aren’t receptive and really only listen to drs. I wish the best for you.

Hey anon!

I do appreciate the advice, and this is actually something my neurologist told me. Overall I’ve actually cut out most artificial sweeteners for this reason! I will gladly listen to (or, well, read) any and all advice you have- I can’t promise to take it all, but at least I’ll have it!

I’m guessing the Diet Coke is what prompted this ask and please know that this decision was not made lightly. There were several contributing factors to taking a med holiday and consuming food/drinks that I know contain ingredients that I should not be having.

[fallingfor-fics]

Teachers Pet- chapter 4: introductions

All chapters

chapter 3

I woke up to the Grandfather clock in Dumbledore's office chiming, if I counted correctly, 6 o'clock. The sunlight beaming in through the small circle cleared on the window. Although I was still dreading this day I figured I'd want to be ready and awake when it was time to begin my very first day at Hogwarts. I laid on my back looking up at the ceiling getting lost in thought for a moment thinking of all the things that could go horribly wrong. 

Eventually I lifted the covers off myself and swung my legs out of the bed stepping on the cold stone flooring. I yawned, stretching my arms up and cracking my neck and back. I got up and went to my luggage. I paused for a moment wondering what I should wear since I didn't have a uniform yet. I looked over what I had and contemplated my choices. I wanted to try to look the part and not stand out too much. I grabbed my black boots and a simple dark green turtleneck sweater I had that used to be my grandpas that I snagged from my dad's closet since he never wore it. I looked over my bottom options trying to remember what the students were wearing. I remembered seeing some in skirts and some in pants. I just decided on some simple black leggings and figured I would have my coat on anyways so it didn't matter a whole lot and once I got my uniforms I would change into them as soon as possible. Probably as soon as I purchased them in the nearest restroom. I took my clothes in the bathroom and went pee and got dressed. I then brushed my teeth and splashed my face with some cold water.

As I exited the bathroom I stopped and grabbed my hairbrush and some makeup from my bag, I didn't wanna look too rough on the first day. Thinking of that made me think of all the new people. There are a ton of students here, girls and boys. What if they make fun of me for not being in a uniform. No, no they wouldn't, Albus wouldn't run a school that bullied people. And if they do that fine ill just hit them with a hex or something. I can defend myself just fine. I always did at Beauxbaton's. I remember my first year there were some girls that messed with me for having a hole in my tights since I knew my mom couldn't afford to buy me new ones after she explicitly told me to not rip them. And they would continue to tease me for other things, anything. But one day in my second year I got tired of it and turned all of their hair green. Of course they screamed and freaked out and I got in trouble, but I didn't care because no one messed with me after that. There was still the occasional comment or unsolicited opinions but I like to think I'm pretty smart and quick witted so I usually always had a response to them.

   I grabbed the brush and brushed my h/c hair and pulled some from each side back into a small clip. I grabbed my makeup bag and applied some concealer here and there, brushed my brows out, and curled and applied mascara to my lashes. I contemplated some light eyeliner but I didn't wanna risk messing it up and running late, I hadn't done any in awhile and probably fell out of practice. I figured this was decent enough and put on some simple pearl earrings and a silver necklace that had a small sun and moon charm. It was a gift from my sister years ago and I would wear it almost everyday. She said it reminded her of us, the sun and moon, she liked to think she was the sun and I was the moon but I said I didn't revolve around her, but she was older so it made sense she was the sun. I took one last look in the mirror, some of my shorter hairs falling from the clip and I tucked them away from my face. I didn't really like stuff in my face. I contemplated putting on my glasses or my contacts. I figured the last thing I needed was to look like a nerd so I put my contacts in and exited the bathroom. Just as I was packing up my things I heard Dumbledore knock on my door. "Come in," I answered. He opened the door and smiled at me. "Well you're up and at em" he snickered. I smiled at him as I applied chapstick and sprayed on some perfume. It smelt like roses and an old lady. But I still liked the smell. It was like my signature scent. "Are you ready for your first day here at Hogwarts my dear?" Dumbledore asked cheerfully. "A little nervous, but mostly ready" I sighed. "Ok well to give an overlay of your day, you can leave all your belongings here and I will have one of the house elves bring it over to your dormitory when you get sorted. And then I have arranged a student to show you around and then travel with you to Hogsmeade to get your uniforms and stationary items once you are given your schedule. It should only take but half the day, at least up until lunch and then from there you can go to the remaining classes of the day." he said with a witty smile standing in the doorway with his hands together. "Wow sounds like a plan!" I said nervously. Realizing this was actually happening there was no stopping it, and I would have my first day at Hogwarts starting in the next thirty minutes. I looked over to the clock and it read 6:30. "Oh and breakfast is from 6:30-8:30am so we should probably head to the Great hall now so we can get you sorted and seated in time" he added. I felt a nervous tingle spread in my chest at the thought of being sorted again in front of different people, having no idea how their sorting ceremonies went. I was gonna ask but I didn't wanna look stupid so I went with it. "Wonderful I'm all ready to go." I smiled putting my coat on, tucking my wand in my boot and grabbing my bag from the post and throwing it over my shoulder.

He headed out towards his office and I silently followed behind all the way down those odd stairs again and down the hallway. After what seemed like quite some time we approached large doors that were open, which I assumed was the so-called great hall, and kids were shuffling in and taking their seats. Some saying small good mornings to Dumbledore. He went into the great hall and I followed directly behind him, my heart suddenly beginning to beat faster. What looked to be most of the school had already arrived to their seats and conversed amongst each other. Some I could tell were obviously first years by their innocent faces, and others I could tell had seen some shit and were at least 5th years. I took deep breaths as I followed him up some stairs to where the teachers sat, where I presumed, to eat. I looked over at some of them and back to Dumbledore. He walked me over to the table to do some quick introductions. "Good Morning everyone this is my Goddaughter y/n that I told you all about" Dumbledore said to them they all smiled and said small hellos to me. "This Professor Lockhart teaches Defense against the dark arts" he said as I looked at the very interesting man. He was smiling largely up at me, almost to largely, it was kind of creepy. "Hello" I said softly. He then took my hand and shook it and then brought it to his mouth to kiss it. I tugged it away quickly after he did so and he said "Good morning y/n! It is so wonderful to meet your acquaintance, I can not wait to have you in my class! I have heard so many things about you and you are much more grown than Dumbledore had described." I looked at him and just gave a soft smile not really knowing how to respond to that. I lightly and discreetly pushed Dumbledore's side to encourage him to keep moving so I didn't have to retain eye contact with this Lockhart fellow. "And this is Hagrid as you met yesterday" "Good Morning Hagrid it's good to see you again." I smiled at him "Pleasures all mine, I teach care of magical creatures" he boomed. "Oh nice" I said as we kept going with our introductions. "This is Professor McGonagall she teaches Transfiguration" She gave a simple nod to which I returned. "And this is Professor Flitwick he teaches charms" I smiled and nodded at the small man with a thick mustache. "Oh and It appears Professor Snape has not joined us yet, but he teaches potions, and this is Madam Pomfrey the matron here at Hogwarts, and last but not least Professor Trelawney who is the Divination teacher" he said I smiled at the kind looking woman who had rather large hair and glasses. She looked like a lot of fun.

"Ok now that all the introductions have been made, it's already," he stopped to look at his watch " 7 o'clock I would say this would be a good time to get the show on the road" he said smiling down at me. I laughed nervously and realized no one had paid any attention to me yet, but that was about to change. Don't get me wrong sometimes I love to be the center of attention, but not in strange and new places. He stepped past me and up to his podium, I stood kind of behind him and waited to see what was next. He cleared his throat and began. "Good Morning students, I hope you have all had a good weekend, before we get breakfast started I have an announcement to make, or rather an introduction. We have a new student joining us today, she has transferred from Beauxbatons. And let me add she is my Goddaughter and I am very pleased to have her here with us at Hogwarts." he looked over at me and nudged his head for me to come up next to him, I did so and looked over the full room of students, making sure to not make eye contact with them. Some were still having quiet conversations but halted when I stepped up, and turned their attention to me. "This is y/n, she is in her 6th year and has not been sorted yet but we will do that in just a minute." I smiled a small smile at the students or should I say my new classmates overlooking the rows upon rows of them "I have high hopes that you will treat her with respect and make her feel welcome!" he spoke loudly. Some of the more obnoxious students yelling "hellos" from their tables. "Now come sit and we will sort you into your house" he said as I followed him around the podium and to a chair in front of it.

Unbeknownst to me Professor Snape walked in out of my view, as I was focused on the students that I was displayed in front of and took his seat behind me. I sat nervously watching as Dumbledore walked over and grabbed an old dusty faded brown witch hat and carried it over to me, he is putting this thing on my head? I sat still and upright as he gently placed it atop my head. All of the sudden the thing began to speak, startling me a bit. "Hmmm very interesting," it said and I sat patiently wondering what that was supposed to mean. "Tough one, compassionate but stubborn" I rolled my eyes at that comment, even an old hat could tell I was hard headed? "Smart but will do anything to be proven right" how dare he expose me like this, I was beginning to think this was some trick to humiliate me, a few of the students snickered at that and I shot them cold looks. "No doubt, clear to see...SLYTHERIN!" The hat yelled and an uproar of cheers came from the table on the far right, I didn't know if this was a good or bad thing but based on the looks of some of the students and Professors faces it was probably not the most popular. Dumbledore took the hat from my head and I shot him a concerned look to which he just winked and smiled. I smiled and looked over the tables, the Slytherin one still cheering. "This is going to be interesting"

[nordleuchten]

La Fayette in Prison - Part 3 - Neisse

We continue our journey from Magdeburg to Neisse, a town in the region of Schlesien. Schlesien originally belonged to Austria but was annexed by the Prussian King Frederick the Great in 1741 and included into the territory of Prussia. Neisse is today part of Poland. At first La Fayette was the only one of the prisoners who was transferred to Neisse. Alexander Lameth was too ill to be transferred. He stayed behind in Magdeburg and was eventually released on parole. He recovered and enjoyed many more years on this earth. The two other prisoners, Latour-Maubourg and Bureaux De Pusy, were first transferred to a prison in Glatz and only from there to Neisse were they stayed roughly twelve days before being brought together with La Fayette to the infamous prison in Olmütz. La Fayette therefor stayed the longest in Neisse. He arrived there, once more heavily guarded on his way, on January 16, 1794 and stayed until May 17 of the same year.

Now would be the perfect time to wonder why the prisoners were so frequently removed from one place and brought to another. Wesel was never intended was a permanent solution. It had simply been the nearest secure prison at the time of the groups arrest. But what with Magdeburg? After all, in 1805/6 Magdeburg was by far the safest and most secure fortress in all of Prussia. The problem in 1794 was, that there was a war going on – and it did not looked too good for the Prussians. The Prussian King was slowly but surely considering the possibility that he would be force to make peace with France. Such a peace treaty would most certainly include handing over his prisoners. He therefor brought the prisoners to Neisse, a town close to the Austrian border, and negotiated with the court in Vienna the transfer of the prisoners in order to prevent their release. The court in Vienna obviously agreed and that is how the prisoners came to Olmütz. La Fayette was distraught about being separated from the others but as soon as he could he wrote them that he was well and that they should not worry too much about him. I wrote in the post about Wesel, that his servant Augustus stayed with him and that another man, Pontonnier, was forced to leave him. Well, it seems as if Pontonnier was not a valet but his secretary and therefore stayed with him. There is also mentioning of another valet, a man who was called Pierre Compte/Comte, who also stayed with La Fayette ... you see with regard to his staff I am a tiny bit confused .... but it seems as if Pierre and Pontonnier were certainly with him and concerning Augustus, well, I think I have to go on and do little bit of digging to find out where exactly his guy had been in 1794. In Neisse La Fayette once again fell ill and this illness seemed to be so worrisome that he thought he would not make it. He also feared that this sudden move from Magdeburg to Neisse was in preparation of his execution. With these two things in mind he wrote a short farewell-letter to his family:

“Adieu, then, my dear wife, my children, my aunt (...) whom I shall cherish to my last breath.”

There were other letters from that time, not from La Fayette but from his friends, that I would like to show you. But first, there is actually one handwritten document from La Fayette from his time in Neisse. It is the short excerpt from a written statement that La Fayette made and today part of the online collection of the Wien Museum.

Now, on to the other letters. The first letter is by Joseph Brown who wrote to George Washington from England, giving a short report upon a recent debate in the House of Commons. He wrote on April 2, 1794:

“N.B. You will probably Sir before the receipt of this Letter have heard that an ineffectual attempt has been made in our Ho. of Commons to stir the Governmt to interfer in behalf of your ill-fated Friend (my respectable & ⟨va⟩lued Correspondent) M. de la Fayette: Burke opposed it on the ground of his having been in Arms against this Country: whereas he saw no improperiety formerly in himself moving for the enlargemt of Mr Laurens, who had been a President of Congress from the Tower, & afterwards meeting him at my House, though the motion was not immediately successful.”

The next letter is from Doctor James McHenry. McHenry wrote Washington on April 3, 1794:

“I thought that perhaps it might come within your view at this juncture to send a commissioned person to Vienna to solicit the release of Mr la Fayette with powers to proceed to France on a like errand in favor of his wife and children, in order that the whole might be removed to this country. I perceive by the act of Congress for discharging his pay during the war the new obligation you have laid up on your unfortunate friend. If it is possible to go beyond pecuniary aid, or so far as to restore him to liberty and his family how would he rejoice to owe that blessing to the man he affectionates most upon earth; and what sublime pleasure to me to be an humble instrument in its accomplishment. The friendship he has always expressed for me; the friendship I feel for him; a conviction of the patriotism of his principles and purity of his motives; the esteem in which he is still held by America; a remembrance of the moment and his youth when he embarked in our cause, and the services he rendered it in the course of our revolution, all conspire to make such a project peculiarly interesting to the feeling heart: at the same time, Sir, you must be sensible, you who on former occasions have not deemed me unworthy some portion of your confidence, that such a mission would reflect upon you its author, and from whom alone it ought to proceed, as long as exalted friendship shall be ranked among the virtues, a lustre which philosophy must delight to contemplate and history to diffuse among mankind for their benefit or instruction. The friendship of Achilles for his dear Patroclus, as celebrated by Homer, has survived the fate of empires and the charges of time, as if destined to serve as a perpetual monument sacred to friendship. May not another Homer arise to consign yours for Fayette to equal immortality, and tears of pleasure flow at its recital like an exhaustless stream through the long period of future ages.”

McHenry was aide-de-camp to Washington was well as to La Fayette during the Revolutionary War. His letters touches on McHenrys feelings for La Fayette, on Washington’s friendship for La Fayette and how this friendship was perceived by others but also illustrates how many people tried to help La Fayette. It also touches on the act from Congress that I discussed in the Magdeburg-post. Furthermore, there is a little, almost comical detail. McHenry wrote this letter in a town in Maryland, conveniently named Fayetteville after the Marquis de La Fayette.

Last but not least there is this wonderful letter from Washington himself addressed to the Prussian King. A cabinet meeting some time prior had deemed it acceptable for Washington to write as a private citizen on behalf of La Fayette. Here is the protocol of said cabinet meeting:

At a meeting of the heads of departments at the President’s, on the fourteenth day of January 1794. It was propounded by the President, whether in consideration of the eminent services of M. de la Fayette, to the U. S. and his present sufferings, it be not adviseable for the President, in a private, and unofficial character, to address to the King of Prussia a letter, requesting his release on parole, founded on motives of personal friendship only. The opinion is, that such a letter is proper to be written. H Knox Alexander Hamilton Edm: Randolph

And here is Washington’s letter – it gets me time and time again ...

“Philadelphia Jany 15th 1794. Sire, However unusual it may be for your Majesty to receive an address from a person, who, at the very moment of making it, disclaims the exercise of any public function, and acts as a private individual; yet it is believed from your illustrious character, that the Motives, which lead me to the Measure, will serve as an ample apology. I cannot longer resist the impulse of friendship, to lay before you, who know so well, how to appreciate its force, my personal and affectionate anxiety for the welfare of M. de la Fayette. Report informs us, that he is under confinement in the dominions of Prussia, and therefore at your disposal. At an early period of his life—at a season, and on an occasion, far remote from the time and causes, which have subjected him to his present condition, he pursued his military career, with so much benefit to my country, and honor to himself, that he acquired a most endearing place in my affections. A sincere attachment then commenced was strengthened by an intercourse which continued after the return of peace had seperated us until more active and interesting scenes served to interrupt it. Upon the events, which succeeded, I shall be silent; only entreating your Majesty to be persuaded, that as I seperate myself, in this letter, from my official station, to render a tribute to your liberality; so I beg to be understood as intending to observe that delicacy, which becomes every man, whose country has, with perfect sincerity, cherished peace and impartiality towards the whole world. Permit me then to ask and obtain from your Majesty, a favor, in which the most lively sensibility of my fellow-citizens is engaged—the release of M. de la Fayette on his parole—If his word should not be deemed a sufficient pledge, I shall regret, that your Majesty does not entertain the same conviction of fidility, as a full experience has impressed upon myself. But I can never be persuaded of the possibility of his departing from that innocence of conduct, which is always to be expected from a prisoner of war. This request, unsolicited by, and unknown to him asks the patronage of your Majesty’s sensibility; and is dictated by a confidence, that he could not be in the power of any sovereign, who would more delight in indulging a friendship, which cannot acquit itself, without thus endeavouring to deliver him, under your benevolent auspices. I pray God to preserve your Majesty in his holy keeping Go: Washington”

Washington made it clear that he wrote as George and not as President Washington. He send the letter to Thomas Pinckney, the ambassador to Great Britain, who in his turn passed the letter on to John Markham Marshall for him to deliver the letter to the Prussian King. In June of 1794 Marshall wrote Pinckney how things had developed:

“I deliverd your letter to Prince Henry of Prussia on the 28th of April and at the same time declared to him my intention of following implicitly his advice in the business which had been entrusted with me—he appeard highly gratified by the confidence which was placed in him, and express’d himself in terms of the warmest admiration of our President, & friendship for M. de la Fayette. Whilst I remain’d with him he wrote a letter to the King his Nephew—informing him of the letter with which I was charged, and urgin⟨g⟩ a compliance with the request which it contained On my departure from Rheinsbg—his Royal highness gave me a letter to the Minister of State on the same subject who immediately inform’d me that nothing could be done for M. de la Fayette, as an agreement had actually taken place by which he was to be deliver’d up to the Austrians and he added that probably the agreement was already executed. he spoke favorably of M. de la Fayette & lamented that it was not in the power of Prussia to comply with the request of his friends[.] As the only chance which remain’d, I endeavor’d to discover if it were possible to prevail on the ministry to favor the escape of Fayette from the fortress where he was confined. [Philipp Karl] Alvensleben the Minister of State to whom I made the proposal, acknowledged his wish that it could be done but declared to me that it was too late[.] I could not press the subject further but as the Minister had not said that M de la Fayette was actually in the hands of the Austrians, I wrote requesting permission to se⟨e⟩ him before that event took place, intending if my request was grantd to renew my proposal. I enclose you the answer of Alvensleben, my business with him was at an end. I wrote, as I had promis’d, to give Prince Henry an account of my want of success, & to enquire if he could point out any step by which I could yet be of service to M. de la Fayette[.] the answer by the Baron [Karl Friedrich Hieronymus] Münchausen I enclose you, I can not very well understand it, but I clearly perceiv’d that Prince Henry could do nothing for Fayette, and as I did not wish to be obliged to converse with him, on what our government might possibly yet do to procure his enlargement, I declined the invitation to Rheinsburg”

La Fayette had met Prince Henry in the autumn of 1785 during the Prussian Review of 1785. They were on rather friendly terms with La Fayette writing to Washington on February, 6 1786:

“(...) prince Henry I Have Kept for the last, because it is By far the Best Acquaintance I Have Made—I don’t Examine who is the Greater General His Brother or He, a Question that divides the Military World—But to Abilities of the first Rate, Both as a soldier and a politician—to a perfect litterary knowledge, and all the Endowments of the Mind—He joins an Honest Heart, philantropic feelings, and rational ideas on the Rights of Mankind—I Have spent a fortnight with Him in His Country seat and We Keep up an epistolary Correspondance (...)”

With that in mind, I actually believe Prince Henry when he expresses his sympathy for La Fayette.

There is not much more to say about La Fayette’s stay in Neisse and so we can finally move on to Olmütz. Olmütz will take some time because there is simply sooo much to discuss. La Fayette’s imprisonment in general, his failed escape, the arrival of his family, and more. Bevor we tackle Olmütz though, I would like to take the time to talk about Adrienne’s fate in the meantime.

[hailing-stars]

@febuwhump day 12 who are you

the world minus one 

summary 

“Who the hell are you?”

“Agent Woo,” he says.

“Ha,” says Peter. He grins. “That rhymed.”

“I’ve been assigned to oversee your home detainment,” he tells him, flashing his card as if he were a magician, and they were at a magic show, instead of the most boring place on planet earth

OR

Agent Jimmy Woo is assigned to oversee Peter's house arrest post far from home, and Peter's eyes see probation officer but his brain screams FRIEND.

Peter considers chopping his foot off.

Did he really need two feet? Maybe Mr. Stark could fashion him a prosthetic like he did for his own Infinity Gauntlet damaged arm, or maybe Peter could spend one of his annoyingly long days trapped inside this apartment figuring out how to do it himself.

He’s exiled to a much larger apartment than the one he and May share in Queens, but somehow, it still manages to be cramped and suffocating, as if the air there was thick and might smother him before the boredom drove him up the walls.

That is if his ankle monitor doesn’t choke the life out of him first.

He pulls at it, itching at it from his place sitting in the middle of the living room floor, when the doorbell rings and Peter stops, he frowns. Mr. Stark isn’t expected to visit him today, and May isn’t due for dinner until a couple of hours.

With a sigh, he stands and walks across his apartment. He opens the door to an unfamiliar face wearing a familiar and unwelcome FBI jacket.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Agent Woo,” he says.

“Ha,” says Peter. He grins. “That rhymed.”

“I’ve been assigned to oversee your home detainment,” he tells him, flashing his card as if he were a magician, and they were at a magic show, instead of the most boring place on planet earth.

It’s an awkward moment. Him just standing there, in the hall, and Peter basks in his ability to make a Fed sweat.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Are you a vampire?”

“...I’m sorry?”

“Vampires,” sighes Peter. “They have to be let in. Feds usually don’t wait for an invitation. Not used to one having manners.”

Peter walks away from the door, leaving it open, and hoping that’s enough of an invitation. It isn’t like he has a choice anyway.

Agent Woo shuts the door behind him, and something stabs at Peter. He’s being rude. His aunt taught him better than that, and there’s something about Agent Woo that Peter decides he likes. The magic trick, maybe.

Peter offers him coffee. Agent Woo looks over at the kitchen, which is admittedly a disaster zone, and politely declines.

“So, what’s your job?” asks Peter. He clears a space off of the dining room table for them to both sit down. “Making sure I’m not staging an escape attempt?”

“Basically, I’ll be dropping by from time to time, to ensure you’re behaving yourself,” says Agent Woo. “Tony Stark did bribe me to harass you about your online classes and that’s not typically part of my job description, I need the money for my children’s college -”

“-you have kids?”

“Not yet, but I plan to, and with the way the economy is-” Agent Woo pauses. “We’re really supposed to be talking about you.”

“I’m behaving myself,” says Peter. “I’m attending my online classes, and I’ve got no plans to take up a new identity and flee the country. Now back to you. Anyone special you’re planning on having these kids with? I need all the details.”

It’s true. He does.

There isn’t much entertainment in his life what with being locked up in an apartment, spending most of his days alone. It’s for May’s safety that they aren’t able to live together during his house arrest, during the massively long stretch of time before his trial, but that doesn’t mean Peter likes it.

Agent Woo spills something about a doctor before pausing a second time and getting back on track. He recites the same information Peter’s heard before. It’s really boring and a waste of time, but Peter supposes he’s got lots of it to waste, anyway.

“Any questions for me?” Agent Woo asks, once he’s finished with his spiel.

“Can you show me how to do that magic trick?”

“Maybe another time,” he tells him, then looks around. “You know, a lot of people in your situation find it helps to form a routine and create a clean living space. Waking up in the morning, showering, putting on normal clothes.”

Peter frowns at the sudden callout. “Who says pajamas aren’t normal?”

“Just offering some friendly advice.”

He stands, and heads for the door, telling him he’ll be by in a couple of weeks, when Peter feels the throbbing near his ankle.

“Agent Woo,” says Peter, before he gets to the door. “You wouldn’t, um, know how to loosen the ankle monitor? I may have been what Mr. Stark fondly refers to as tactless with the agent who put it on and they may have retaliated just a little bit.”

So, Agent Woo loosens the ankle monitor, and Peter, once he’s alone in the apartment, collapses on his couch and decides that he and Agent Woo are going to be friends, despite the unsolicited advice.

*

Peter’s prepared the next time Agent Woo visits.

Coffee is going, the apartment is clean, and he’s got five packs of playing cards laid out on the kitchen table. It had been a lot of whining on his part to convince Mr. Stark to drop everything and run to the store and buy them, but this is an emergency. A magic emergency.

He’s also ordered a pizza, and it arrives just as Agent Woo starts his regular round of checkup, interrogation questions.

“Oh, that’s the pizza,” says Peter, when the doorbell rings.

Agent Woo opens his mouth as Peter leaps up from his chair, but ultimately doesn’t say anything. Once Peter’s back to the kitchen table, he opens the box and lets the aroma fill the apartment.

“Want a slice?”

“That would be crossing professional bounds…” says Agent Woo. His voice trailed off. He stared at the pizza. “But that pizza looks really good, and I haven’t had lunch…”

Peter pushes the box closer to the FBI agent. Agent Woo grabs a slice, and official talk about Peter’s detainment falls to the wayside.

“Tell me about the doctor,” says Peter. “Is she pretty?”

Agent Woo obliges, and Peter begins to understand why Woo’s crushing on her so hard. She sounds kickass. And Peter’s rooting for them.

“You gotta ask her out, man,” says Peter. A string of melt cheese hangs off his mouth and swipes it away. “I mean, Agent Woo.”

The agent laughs, and by the time he leaves, Peter knows how to do the magic trick and almost no time was spent talking about his upcoming trial or the conditions of his house arrest.

*

Peter bleeds out on his living room floor.

He hadn’t meant to get stabbed. He hadn’t even meant to step out of his apartment, but it’s getting to him. The confinement. The crime happening below his apartment and he’s expected to sit by and let happen.

Mr. Stark is going to kill him, and he wouldn’t have called him if not for the pain, the unbearable pain of his skin stitching itself back together. Superpowered healing doesn’t come without it’s trauma.

To make matters worse, his doorbell rings, and he isn’t expecting anyone, so he knows it’s Agent Woo.

He inhales deep. He tries freeing his face from displaying the terrifying agony he’s experiencing in his leg, and he limps over to answer the door.

Agent Woo isn’t fooled. “Jesus Christ, is that blood?”

“Is that Delmar’s?” Peter momentarily forgets his situation when he spots the brown bag in Agent Woo’s hand, and when he smells the unforgetful aroma of Delmar’s Deli.

“Forget the sandwiches,” says Agent Woo. He walks into the apartment, helps Peter back to the couch, and places the bag on the coffee table. “What happened to you?”

“Don’t freak out,” he tells him. “I accidentally stabbed myself with a steak knife.”

Agent Woo stands, crosses his arms. “I’m supposed to believe you did that to yourself? On accident?”

“To be fair,” says Peter. “You’ve known me long enough to know that’s also extremely probable.”

“How could you do this,” says Agent Woo. He isn’t angry. His voice sounds the same as Mr. Sark’s had on the phone. Worried. Afraid for him, and what’s done, putting his own privilege of pretrial house arrest on the line for a few minutes fighting petty criminals. “You know what’s at stake if you break the rules.”

“I know,” says Peter, softly. “I’m sorry.”

“We need to put pressure on that.”

Agent Woo disappears from his sight and returns with a towel he carefully ties around Peter’s leg wound.

“Are you sure you don’t need a hospital?”

Peter shakes his head. “Spider healing will work it’s magic.”

He closes his eyes and tries to block out the pain, and when that doesn’t work, he decides a distraction is what he needs.

“Tell me about Dr. Lewis,” he says, through a grimace. “Have you asked her out yet?”

Agent Woo sits on the couch next to him. “Not yet.”

“You gotta get on that,” says Peter. “Before someone else does.”

“I don’t know about that, Pete,” he tells him. “I don’t know if someone like her would say yes to someone like me.”

“Someone like you? Someone who’s a nice person? And likes all the same cheesy sit-coms as her?” asks Peter. “Dude, you two are perfect for each other. You’re gonna ask her, and she’s going to say something like geez, finally, I was waiting for you to get a clue, and then you’ll have little Dr. Lewis-Woos running around all over the place.” He stops, the pain stabs, and he keeps going. “She’d be lucky.”

“Thanks, Peter.”

“Anytime,” says Peter, his voice cracking. The edges of his vision blur, but he’s able to focus on the brown bag on the coffee table. “You really brought me Delmar’s?”

“Last time I was here you said how much you missed it.”

“Make a habit of doing favors for murders? Fun.”

The pain’s making him more bitter, more honest, more angsty about the fact that the entire world thinks he’s killed that clown Mysterio. Maybe that’s what his temporary escape is really about. Trying to prove that he’s good. That he’s against the crimes people say he’s committed.

“I know you’re not a murderer.”

The entire world minus one, he guesses, along with his friends and family.

“You believe me?”

“I’ve dealt with killers before,” says Agent Woo. “You’re not one of them.”

Peter feels lighter, better even in his leg, by the idea of someone like Agent Woo believing his innocence. Gives him hope maybe his house arrest will end with freedom instead of prison, like Mr. Stark has been telling him from the start.

His good feeling doesn’t last long, though, because Mr. Stark barges through the door and Peter’s spidey senses know he’s about to get a lecture.

“How could you be so stupid?”

“Mr. Stark -”

“-No,” says Mr. Stark. “No excuses. I’ve warned you over and over again. Where is it?”

Peter pulls the device he’d built to interfere with the ankle monitor out from his pocket, and hands it over to Mr. Stark, who breaks it.

“For a genius,” says Agent Woo, as he eyes the broken parts of the interference device. “You really lack common sense.”

Mr. Stark turns his attention to Agent Woo. “Look, Agent -”

“-I’m off duty,” says Agent Woo, standing up from the couch. “Just a guy bringing some sandwiches, and I’ve really got no reason to believe he didn’t slip and fall, uh, on a kitchen knife. Just… never again.”

Peter nods his head. “Okay, yeah, never again.”

Agent Woo leaves them, Mr. Stark softens and gives him his extra strength pain relievers, and Peter drifts off, but not before devouring the sandwiches he loves and dwelling on the tiny spark of hope Agent Woo offered to him.

Not everyone believes he's a murderer, and for that moment, it’s enough.

[hopevalley]

Season 8, Episode 10: Old Love, New Love, Is This True Love

All right, so...like I said, work has picked up and my eyes feel like old marbles from staring at numbers (the woes of working in accounting I guess) so I want to get this written up and tossed into the nether before I lose steam and motivation to do it. The interesting thing about these little write-ups is that as the week goes on they just get harder and harder to write...

I do apologize in advance to those who like the long-winded write-ups. I’m just not up to it at the moment. Still feeling kind of bleh from the episode.

Let’s go back to an old format, shall we?

The Good

We might as well start out with the things about this episode that I enjoyed! 

Gossip Hour with the Men was one of the best openers they’ve had on the show in a while. It was genuinely funny without being meanspirited. Nobody looked like the bad guy. Everyone just calmly talked about it alike it was a normal thing to maybe call off the wedding. Bill calling out Carson for giving marriage advice was pretty funny, Mike was a delight. I don’t know what to say. I’d watch a whole episode of The Boys just hanging around spending time together.

--

Florence’s worry that she’s ugly was...not a terrible idea for a storyline, but the actress is too good-looking to pretend to be ugly (I saw her in this pretty yellow dress on Instagram a couple years ago and she was smashing)? Also, it’s not like Ned is a handsomely aged gentleman (like Henry lol) so it makes even less sense for the characters. I think they should have gone with Florence feeling she’s “plain” and that dressing up Super Nice makes her feel uncomfortable because she just doesn’t feel like Herself and worries maybe it’s projecting a false sense of Who She Is or something? I guess overall I still liked that an attempt was made to add some depth to Florence and her difficulties in choosing a dress/hairstyle, so...it goes here.

--

Ned asking Henry to be his best man was nice, too. I can forgive the shoddy pacing and weird placement of this request (like I do with almost everything in the show) but only because the scene was just...so incredibly wholesome. 

I like how Henry just casually is like, “Well maybe today’s just not the day.” I think it eased Ned’s mind just a little that he CAN back out if he really wants to.

I think it’s worth thinking about the fact that Ned and Henry would have always worked very closely, since the mercantile would have been a company store before the mine closed down... I like Henry and Ned as pals.

--

I’m glad the “investment” thing with Jesse and Clara’s savings was brought up in a way that...makes sense. And also, glad it wasn’t forgotten.

--

I really liked Molly and Florence in this episode. I’m a little sad Florence married Ned because I AM SORRY BUT I WANTED TO KEEP SHIPPING MOLLY AND FLORENCE TOGETHER UGHGHGHH

But their relationship is so good and maYBE Elizabeth will learn something from them.

Hey Elizabeth...you see that?

YOU SEE THAT?

Just saying.

And then later...

“You are the sister I never had, the mother I forever wanted, the friend I have always needed. From the depths of those dark and terrifying coal mines you’ve walked beside me, picking me up whenever I’ve stumbled along the way.”

AAAAAAAAA IT GOT ME.

--

I’m...really liking Fiona and Mike’s relationship, whatever it is. I kind of think they’re not headed toward anything romantic. Everyone thinks Mike is really into Fiona but at the end of the episode we realize he likes talking to her about business; it’s almost like they have this shared passion for numbers/ideas and he likes infodumping to her (and vice-versa).

I think they’re going to end up being “just friends” and Fiona will end up paired off with the man Elizabeth doesn’t choose. They hinted at Nathan briefly in this episode (with Allie’s hair), but who knows? I’m over trying to speculate on where the triangle is going at this point, but I actually like Fiona’s relationship with Mike so much that I’ll be disappointed if she fades into the background with Nathan or Lucas. Mike deserves more screentime. 

--

Ned and Florence sharing their fIRST KISS. My husband got emotional over this. And I admit, it was starting to get to me, too. I can’t NOT root for them. 

--

I said it before and I’ll say it again: I WOULD DIE FOR THE CANFIELDS.

--

The wedding was nice. I liked that Bill and Joseph officiated it together; it gives Joseph a li’l trial run of pastoring and finally Bill gets to use some of that power of his to officiate a wedding.

“Please, if you’d like” is such a Bill way to say that they may kiss LOL.

--

Also, I have to admit that I did enjoy Lucas calling Nathan out about Allie. She wouldn’t be caught in the middle if he’d leave Elizabeth alone AND HE IS RIGHT LMAO.

The last good thing: Elizabeth telling Nathan she doesn’t blame him for Jack’s death. Nice. Good. Thank you. He probably needed to hear that.

--

...THE BAD

Carson and Faith. UGH. UGHHHHHHHHHH. BREAK UP ALREADY I HATE YOU BOTH.

I appreciated that Carson had the ring ages ago, and I did like his conversation with Minnie—or more accurately, her advice to him. I felt like she was nudging him toward, “Remember why you became a surgeon in the first place.” If he became a surgeon to help people, then there’s no reason he can’t help people where he is. Sure, he might not be doing state of the art procedures but with Faith working alongside him, he can afford time to learn new things and go to doctor conventions or even take a specialized class now and then. No other doctor could get away for very long but he has that chance!

And he’ll arguably be doing more good in the middle of nowhere than in the city. All the doctors want to live in the city. Nobody wants to barely get paid for their time in the countryside.

We had a whole episode that made it clear that Faith and Carson don’t make a lot of money and do a lot of charity work. They also work for trade goods (mostly food). So it’s like...a pretty big difference in lifestyle? 

Half the reason I can’t get invested in these characters is because I really can’t stand Paul Greene. He just...annoys me on every single level imaginable. But he’s a decent actor and I can’t help but feel that his character was a massive waste of space for the past few seasons through no fault of the man himself. Imagine introducing a character like Carson and then leaving him to rot before you try to make him interesting with a romance plot that nobody asked for.

Yes, some people really like Faith and Carson, but as a whole I think the fandom didn’t buy into them as a ship due to the lack of chemistry.

It really is a shame. This episode didn’t do a thing to endear me to either character. Please, Carson. I am begging you to leave town.

--

This one particular line of dialogue almost enraged me.

WE KNOW WE KNOW WE KNOW WE KNOW WE CAN SEE THAT FOR OURSELVES. WHY DID THEY HAVE ROSEMARY SAY THIS LIKE IT’S AN EPISODE OF A CHILD’S TV SHOW?

--

Elizabeth.........

How could Katie have...looked up to her? She was never in her class? That was? Never part of anything? It was just something they threw in here to force Elizabeth to make 1% more sense in the role she’s in but IT STILL DOESN’T WORK.

I felt like I was back in Season 5 again with Lori and Elizabeth putting their nose in everyone’s business except it’s just Elizabeth!! The whole plot, which was boring and contrived anyway, should have gone to Molly, since she’s Florence’s best friend and another woman from town that Katie would have known as a child.

AND ALSO, MOLLY WOULD HAVE KNOWN KATIE’S MOTHER AND WOULD REMEMBER THE GRIEF THAT NED STRUGGLED WITH.

I know they wanted to make Elizabeth give advice so that she’d Realize that she needs to, I don’t know, make better choices or something, but it was too on the nose for me and I hated it.

GinithePooh on Reddit made a good comparison to Elizabeth in this episode by saying she reminded them of Clippy from Microsoft Word, always popping up and offering to help when nobody really needs or wants advice.

To honor their incredible idea, I opened Photoshop and created this gem, which I will also be posting separately so that people can reblog it if they wish to.

I also don’t think I need to say also filed under The Bad is the fact that Elizabeth didn’t even apologize for being awful to Rosemary and then gave her unsolicited advice to other people for two days straight. I can’t believe they wrote that? 

All I can say is that her apology to Rosemary, when it comes, better be good.

--

And I didn’t like this either:

I wish it had been followed up by literally anything: Nathan saying he’s sorry he didn’t tell her sooner or something to make the hand-holding actually be a little more innocent.

As it is, it just seems so deliberate? 

Maybe the next episode starts off right in this scene and we’ll get that? If so, this might actually end up being fine. I just don’t think it is if it doesn’t get a little more direct attention.

--

& THE UGLY

I debated on putting anything in here, because I’m not ready to talk about my feelings on this matter, at least not fully. But I’ve been pretty quiet all season so far, and...eh, why not just mention things in advance? What will it hurt?

Let me preface this section by saying I’m biased and I doubt hardly anyone on this site will agree with me, so feel free to just ignore this part if that’s the case.

There are two things that I really didn’t like in this episode.

I hate the slanting toward Bill/Molly.

I like Molly just fine but I don’t like her with Bill. I’m biased as all getout and also worried about the future/potential Season 9 with regards to this. I don’t want to see it. Like at all. Why, you ask? You should know why if you follow me. I’m super transparent.

It’s because I like AJ AND I WANT HER BACK LOL.

John Tinker rewatched the series so we know he wouldn’t have missed that hanging plot thread—especially since he didn’t forget any of the other things that were brought up this season! So why didn’t she appear this season? The love triangle absolutely needed to be a focus or it would have never ended, so that’s part of it, but I’m also pretty sure Josie Bissett wasn’t interested in doing any filming last year during Covid. My only “proof” is that Wedding March 6 wasn’t filmed last year even though it was scheduled to be filmed, but it makes sense. Last year was chaos.

THAT SAID, Jack Wagner posted on his Instagram the other day that they are actually filming Wedding March 6 now, so... I guess AJ’s re-appearance in Season 9 wouldn’t come as too much of a surprise if they wanted to write it.

You’d think I’d be hyped about that, and I kind of am? But it doesn’t come without its share of worries, too. We just had the worst love triangle in the history of love triangles and I really don’t want another one, especially if it makes any of the characters in question look stupid or mean.

I fully admit a well-written love triangle could be a LOT of fun for them* (low stakes because they’re not front and center characters), but I saw how Nathan was written so far this season and I really, REALLY do not want to see that happen to Molly, Bill, or AJ.

Anyway, not a fan of the Molly/Bill stuff. No chemistry. I don’t want it.

*I would totally write a fanfic like this lmao.

--

And finally...the part that everyone will hate me for:

I DO NOT WANT TO SEE ABIGAIL COME BACK. And I specifically do not want her to come back ‘cause I do not wanna see Henry/Abigail happen.

I fully recognize that a lot of you like it and ship the heck out of it, and that’s...good. I’m glad you enjoy it. I loathe it, though, and I worry that all these hints (more like...mentions) are leaning toward...something. Like, either they’re:

1) Sending Abigail off/tying up that loose end with Henry (since nothing was ever clarified either way), or

2) Warming up the audience to receive Abigail back on the show.

I’m pretty into the idea of one-sided Henry/Abigail. Hindsight is 20/20, regrets, that’s all some juicy stuff to give a character like Henry. Some things can’t ever be made right again. He had too direct of a connection to the death of her husband and son for me to ever want to see them together. Forgiveness? Yes. A careful but meaningful friendship? Yes. Romantic relationship? Uh...no thanks.

I liked the Abigail mentions at first because I felt like...the character still mattered (as she should) but I’m at a point where I feel like they’re trying really hard to steer the fandom’s view a certain way and not knowing where it’s going is extremely unsettling to me.

--

I’ll probably talk more about the things that bother me when the season ends, because I’m hoping to have a better idea of where things are going to be headed, but for now just...know that I feel very apprehensive.

And keep in mind that I primarily watch this show for Bill these days, since all my previous faves (AJ, Frank, the old Abigail, Dottie) have exited, stage left. I also always really liked seeing Henry. So as you can imagine, seeing plotlines I hate for the only two characters I’m invested in? Is making me consider dropping the series next year.

My husband told me I should hate-watch it, but I don’t know if my heart can take it. I’ve been following this series for so long...it just...kind of hurts to feel let down like this? 

But sometimes an ongoing series ends up going where you...didn’t want it to, and it becomes something that’s no longer right for you. I hope that doesn’t happen, but last night’s episode makes me feel like...it might be happening for real this time.

I guess if that holds true it’ll be back to fanfiction for me. Will that novelization I planned ages ago end up getting written? Will I write the best love triangle fanfic known to man? WHO KNOWS.

For now, we’ll all have to wait and see! Two more episodes left. I’m really curious to see how they resolve some of the open plots right now. :>

[randomoranges]

sometimes my life is an actual sitcom. i wish i could say i made this stuff up, but now, i legit met a guy while selling a shoe rack who came back to chat me up post sale bcs he thought i was pretty. he then proceeded to tell me a million times in one hr and has since been very over the top about being into me. as much as it’s nice to have attention u also gotta pace yourself. hes so over the top it’s ridiculous and also getting more annoying.

also never fucking send ppl semi nude photos unprompted wtf is wrong with yall.

anyways i live vicariously through teacher au and use real life shit to put the characters through the same thing. today i vibed with edward. 

this takes place before he and étienne are together

this is a blurb. i just needed to get a thought out of my system

edwards answers are legit what i wrote

the gag of all of edwards exes having names that start with c continues XD

Unsolicited

 Edward knows he technically shouldn’t, but he’s bored at work and for once, the kids are actually quietly doing their own thing. He decides against his better judgement to open Facebook and scroll aimlessly for a moment or two, while time goes on. It’ll give him a chance to see what exciting lives the rest of his friends are living and envy those who aren’t stuck at work.

 He quickly notices a red little number up on the top right corner to signal that he has one unopened conversation and for a moment, he wonders which of his friends would have messaged him. There hadn’t really been any ongoing chats at the moment, so he’s pleasantly surprised and looking forward to hearing from his friends.

 He’s only a little disappointed when he sees that it’s not from any of his friends, but instead from a guy he’d met just last Friday in the most strangest of ways. (His friend had hosted a garage sale and had asked for help. Edward had gone. He’d brought along some of his own stuff. This one man – Charles – had bought his old wooden shoe rack. Charles had chatted Edward up. They’d exchanged contact information and had more or less chatted since then. It was a strange way to meet someone – but, not the strangest.)

 Charles is – cute and they had a pleasant chat. Edward certainly hadn’t minded the attention, even if it had come from out of nowhere. He’d been looking forward to meeting up with him again, but as the days had gone on and their conversations had progressed, he’d found himself slowly losing a bit of interest over Charles’ over-eagerness.

 There were just so many times Charles could say he thought Edward was attractive in an hour before it got redundant and annoying.

 Edward was flattered Charles was interested in him, but Edward didn’t want to rush this either. He’d just gotten out of a serious relationship and with the end of the school year looming close, he had other things to deal with. Once summer break arrived, he would have more time and more energy. In the meantime, however, he didn’t need this stranger he barely knew to wax poetics and tell him he wished to wake up beside him to see how he woke up – or whatever garbage he’d been told. Edward was willing to give this a go, but he wasn’t looking to settle down and get married with Charles after knowing him for three days and it quite honestly felt as though Charles had already booked their venue at times.

 He was – over the top and intense. Edward had appreciated the fact that Charles had told him he’d found him attractive when he’d first seen him and he liked that he had actually returned to chat him up. It had been a little weird when Charles had called him his beloved and stranger still when he’d apologised from taking up his time and keeping him away from his friends when they’d talked that first time, but Edward had let it slide and had almost found it charming – in its own bizarre way.

 Now, it feels as though Charles is trying too hard, when really he doesn’t have to. Edward thought he was attractive, had even told him so and was more than willing to see where this would lead. but if However, if Charles doesn’t slow down, Edward will back out and move on. (Which reminds him – there’d been that whole other conversation where Charles had told him that he looked forward to living their lives together and that he didn’t want to lose him. To which Edward had politely told him that it would be best to get to know each other first.)

 Edward wants some fun – not some intense long-term lovey-dovey besotted nonsense. At least – not after three days of talking with the man.

 Still, he opens the conversation, curiosity, and boredom getting the best of him, and at first, it’s nice, until Charles asks him if he could have a photo. Edward lets out a long-suffering sigh and is glad his students are too busy with their work to notice.

 Charles has asked to send him a photo right now, of all things.

 Edward is so not in the mood for any of this.

 “No. I’m in class teaching. My students are taking a test.” He writes out. He doesn’t care if he comes across as annoyed, but this man is being irksome in his own infatuated way and it’s – pathetic. He likes the attention, to a degree, he enjoys feeling wanted, but Charles needs to calm down his ardours.

 He leaves it at that and doesn’t bother with Charles for the rest of the day.

 By the time Edward’s done, he heads to his car and figures he’ll check again to see if he’s gotten a new message. There is still part of him that is curious about this whole ordeal and so he’s a little bit pleased when he sees that Charles has sent him a few messages after their last chat.

 He’s less enthused when he gets to the last one.

 The first was in regards to the whole photo debacle, saying maybe next time. The second mentioned that he was going for a jog. And the last message – the kicker really, was a photo Charles had sent of himself, shirtless and thankfully from the waist up.

 And to think Edward had nearly sent him a post-work exhausted face selfie for the fun of it.

 He grumbles, puts his phone away, and figures he’ll deal with it when he gets home.

 It’s not that he necessarily minded the photo – he did find the guy attractive to a point, but – it had been unprompted. Unsolicited. He hadn’t asked for a photo. He hadn’t been expecting a shirtless photo. He wasn’t in the current mood to receive such a photo. He could have been at school on break and gotten this photo.

 He’s angry and annoyed by the time he gets home.

 Edward putters around and leaves Charles on read. It’s one thing going after sex and expecting these photos and it’s another to get them out of the blues. He lets his friends know of this debacle and relishes in their reactions. He’s glad someone gets it.

 Finally, after making dinner, playing a few rounds of video games, taking a shower, getting his lunch ready for the following day, and having a nice chat with his friends, he decides to answer Charles.

 “Even if a photo of a woman, man, or person shirtless may be nice to receive, it’s always better to send it with consent and with fair warning. Especially when you’re not expecting one and that with my work, there are often children nearby.”

 He doesn’t expect an answer so quickly, especially since it’s been five hours since the photo was sent, but Charles, true to form, answers. Edward laughs out loud when he reads how very sorry Charles is and how he genuinely thought Edward would appreciate it. Edward sighs again and groans, passing a hand through his hair.

 He tries to find a polite way of trying to get this man to understand and he’s only a little surprised by how easily the words come to him, “There’s a time and place for everything. You don’t send these types of photos willy-nilly whenever you feel like it. There’s context, time, mood, etc. Consent and fair-warning. Imagine you were sitting with your family, friends, or kids and you received such a photo without warning. You can’t assume that the person on the other side is in an appropriate setting to receive these types of messages and images without checking beforehand.”

 It’s at times like these he wishes men could be less – like this. He likes a good shirtless photo just like anyone else who’s into men, but he hates that this seems to be a norm. And at least this was only a shirtless photo! He doesn’t want to think of the number of times when he was having a nice conversation about literally anything unrelated to the human body, only to find himself with a photo of a man’s junk, completely unprompted.

 Sometimes, he almost wishes he were into women just to be spared this.

 Edward figures he’s given Charles enough etiquette lessons for the night and puts his phone away. He pulls up something decent to watch on television and does his best to forget about the incident for now. If anything, he reminds himself, he doesn’t need to commit to anything with this besotted Romeo.

 FIN

[ohayohimawari]

NartYasha Not!Fic

I’ve had NartYasha on the brain thanks to Sloaners’ server, and I present a post of purely self-indulgent snippets and scenarios of a day in the crossover world of my imagination.

I’d put the rating at G-T; no TW content.

I hope it makes you laugh! Nonsense begins below the cut.

“Ugh—hurry up, Dad, Mom!” Kakashi stood in front of the opened door to the Hatake home, one foot outside of it, and both arms folded across his chest. “I don’t want to be late!”

“I know that you’re excited, Kakashi, but you’re not supposed to meet your team for another hour,” Kaguya called out to her son. “Besides,” she turned her attention to her husband, “your father still needs…to get ready.”

Sakumo sat with his back to her, but his sporadic sniffing and shaking shoulders betrayed the emotions he tried to hide.

“Sakumo, your face will be all red and puffy when we go to meet them,” Kaguya soothed as she neared her husband.

“I know,” Sakumo sighed in resignation, “I know.”

“You don’t want to be confused for Maito, do you?” Kaguya made a gentle joke about their dear family friend, Dai.

It worked, and Sakumo chuckled through his drying tears. “No, I don’t. It’s just, he’s growing up so fast, Kaguya! It seems like only yesterday that he was falling out of trees instead of walking up them—”

“That was yesterday,” Kaguya interrupted Sakumo to remind him of the previous day’s installment of adventures in parenthood.

“—and today he’s meeting his Genin team and Jōnin leader,” he spoke over his wife, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

Kaguya watched two new tears fall when her husband blinked as he returned his gaze to their son’s Pre-K art project that he held in his hands. Sakumo ran his fingers across the handprint that a five-year-old Kakashi had pressed into clay and then ran his thumb over the inverted “s” of their son’s signature.

“Sakumo,” she cooed his name, “if you keep this up, your tears will blind you to the memories that are forming now,” she reached for the clay keepsake. He handed it over and nodded, discerning the sense in her words.

Kaguya smiled at Sakumo and brushed his bristling mane from his eyes. “I worry about how you’ll react when Kakashi goes on his first mission,” she chuckled lightly.

Sakumo gaped at her, wide-eyed, and his bottom lip began to quiver once again.

 ***

 Though it was later than Kakashi would’ve liked, the Hatake family was still the first to arrive at the training grounds (with a rehearsed and believable excuse involving allergies for Sakumo’s red eyes).

“See, Kakashi? There was no need to rush. We’re here before your sensei has arrived,” Sakumo gently scolded his son in a thick voice.

“‘A shinobi must prepare before it is too late to,’” Kakashi recited in a pious tone.

Before Sakumo could caution against following the shinobi rules too strictly, one of Konoha’s most accomplished Jōnin materialized out of thin air, literally.

“Hello Mr. Hatake, Mrs. Hatake,” he bowed to them, “it’s an honor to teach your son.”

“Namikaze,” Sakumo addressed the Jōnin through a relieved smile. “I’m happy to know he’ll be trusted to you.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Kakashi grumbled.

“You’re right. Hello,” the Jōnin issued a warm, gentle smile that was in direct contrast to the dangerous shinobi he was known to be within the Leaf, and beyond. “You can call me Minato-sensei.”

“And you can call him Bakashi,” a raven-haired boy cackled as he ran toward the group.

“Don’t be rude, Obito,” an elderly woman scolded from where she trailed behind him.

“Ah, you must be Obito Uchiha,” Minato turned his smile to the new arrivals.

“Yep, that’s me!” Obito beamed, and then jerked his thumb at Kakashi. “I’m the one you should focus on training, Minato-sensei because I’m going to be Hokage!”

“Is that so?” Minato tilted his head in amusement.

“You bet! I can already see my face carved into the mountainside,” Obito bragged.

“I think you need to clean your goggles then—”

“Kakashi!” Kaguya said his name sharply, causing her son to visibly wince above his mask.

“My grandson deserved that,” the elderly woman had reached the group, “please excuse him. Now then, Obito, will you introduce me to your friends?”

“Oh, right, sorry,” Obito scratched at the back of his head. “This is my Granny, Kaede. She’s a priestess from uh,” he hesitated and stole a glance at her, “somewhere else. But she moved here because she didn’t want me to live alone,” he smirked at her when he finished.

Kaede smirked back at him briefly and then raised her one-eyed gaze to the others. “I wasn’t about to let my grandson become a victim of this village’s ‘orphan care program,’” she said, sarcastic.

Minato and Sakumo shifted uncomfortably, but Kaguya was the first to speak. “It’s awful, isn’t it? I’m also a transplant to Konoha, and I can’t believe they’ve let it get this bad—”

“How did you lose your eye?” Kakashi interrupted his mother, unable to contain his curiosity and unaware that such an awkward question was impolite.

Kaede chuckled, easing Sakumo and Kaguya’s embarrassment. “In battle,” she said, low and dramatic, “against a fearsome yōkai.” She leaned over to meet Kakashi’s eyes. “He got much worse than he gave, I promise you,” she added in a dangerous voice for effect.

Kakashi stood unblinking for a few moments, clearly deep in thought, but kept them to himself. Then, he closed one eye and looked around him to test how it altered his vision.

Sakumo cleared his throat to distract from his son’s latest social faux pas. “So, do you know who your third student is, Namikaze?”

“I haven’t met her yet, but I hear she made quite an impression on Lord Third. Lady Kaede brought her along when she first came to Konoha, correct?” Minato asked.

“Yes,” Kaede nodded. “I offered to look after her while her guardian was away because we take care of orphans where I come from. She and Obito became fast friends, and it seemed cruel to part them, so I signed her up to be a Genin.”

“Wait—what do you mean you ‘signed her up’? Genin have to graduate from the Academy first,” Minato lost a little of his serene countenance.

“Money talks,” Kaede shrugged. “Apparently, Konoha is broke. That might explain all the orphans running around,” she muttered. “Anyway, her guardian is bringing her from my world so he can sign off on the paperwork.”

“Your…your world?”

“Whoa!” Kakashi exclaimed, with both eyes opened wide again.

The others followed his gaze upwards to find a massive white dog soaring overhead. It circled a few times as it descended and touched down gracefully on the training grounds. A man with long white hair and dog ears jumped down immediately, then reached up to lift a young girl off the back of the dog.

“Rin!” Obito shouted and ran off to greet the newcomers.

The little girl waved enthusiastically back at them, as the large white dog transformed into a man right before their eyes.

“Wh-where did you say you were from?” Minato stuttered.

“Another dimension,” Kaede gestured one hand as if to brush her cryptic confession off as trivial, “the Bone-Eater’s well acts as a portal to just about anywhere.”

“Excuse me, the what?”

“I wasn’t expecting Sesshōmaru to bring Inuyasha with him,” Kaede squinted at the approaching figures and ignored Minato’s question.

“Are they the girl’s guardians?” Kaguya asked.

“Sesshōmaru is, yes, and Inuyasha is her uncle. This could be troublesome,” Kaede sighed and then offered a bit more by way of explanation. “Sesshōmaru is a dog demon, as you can probably guess, and his brother is a half-demon.”

Kakashi continued to stare at Sesshōmaru in reverent awe until they were near enough to speak, though no one knew what to say.

Eventually, Sakumo broke the shocked silence. “My wife is from the moon,” he announced, unsolicited.

Kaguya stood beside her husband and placed one hand on her son’s shoulder. She then opened her third eye in the middle of her forehead.

Minato fainted.

***

 Minato recovered in time to issue the bell test, and pass his first team of Genin, to his delight. After receiving the applause and praise from the small crowd in the parents’ section, the newly formed Team Minato set to kunai practice.

“I don’t know how they can consider those tiny things ‘weapons,’ even Sesshōmaru’s Tenseiga is more dangerous than—”

“Silence, Inuyasha!” Sesshōmaru punctuated his reprimand with a sharp blow to his half-brother’s head, knocking him to the ground.

“Some ninja are trained with swords,” Sakumo offered, “I carry the White Light Chakra Sabre on my missions. And, of course, there are the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, each of whom carries a powerful, renowned blade.”

“Is that so?” Sesshōmaru arched an eyebrow, the only hint at how impressed he was. “Perhaps it would be worth extending our visit in your world,” he said through a slight, but very dangerous, grin.

 ***

 “Minato! I found another one.”

A red-haired woman stormed onto the training grounds with a furious expression on her face, and a terrified, tiny ninja in tow.

“Ah, Kushina, can this wait? We’re in the middle of kunai practice—Nevermind,” he quickly changed his mind when her temper visibly mounted.

“This one hasn’t been able to speak at all,” Kushina’s voice came more gently as she presented the small shinobi to Minato. The young boy turned his large, almond eyes at her, and then to Minato in apparent confusion. “It’s okay,” Kushina soothed as she ran a hand through the boy’s long, mousey brown hair, “stick out your tongue.”

The tiny ninja’s eyes, made impossibly larger through his hesitant expression, darted between Kushina and Minato. After some time and coaxing, however, he tentatively stuck his tongue out at Minato.

Kaguya gasped at the black symbol on the boy’s tongue. Sesshōmaru turned to Kaede and spoke in a chilling voice. “You said that Konoha was overrun with orphans; you didn’t say the village branded them.”

“I had no idea they’d do something so cruel,” Kaede replied, astonished.

“This is highly unusual, I assure you,” Sakumo sputtered. “At least, I hope it is,” he added, under his breath.

Minato began to weave signs silently and with a solemn expression, drawing everyone’s attention. He then pressed his thumb to the boy’s tongue, who shrieked, jumped back, and covered his mouth with both hands.

“I’m sorry that hurt, but it’s the only way to remove the seal,” Minato said, heartbroken.

“Ithss s’okay,” the boy lisped his response which was further muffled by his small, pudgy hands.

“Now then, what’s your name?”

“I-I don’t know. They call me Kinoe, but I’m not sure if that’s what my parents named me before...”

The whole crowd in the parents’ section melted.

Kushina dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around the boy. She turned her head to face Minato and stared at him with wide, imploring eyes.

Minato buckled under the weight of so many pairs of pleading eyes and then sighed. “Alright, let’s go talk to Lord Third.” He pointed at Inuyasha. “You, dog demon—”

“Half-demon,” Sesshōmaru corrected.

“Whatever. Can you oversee their target practice until I get back?”

 ***

 “Gah-gah-gah, zu-bah-bah, KUNAI!”

“It’s definitely helping Obito to focus on the target, but I thought that ninja were supposed to be stealthy, aren’t they? This isn’t exactly conducive to sneaking up on an opponent,” Kaede assessed Inuyasha’s teaching techniques aloud.

Inuyasha was helping Rin improve her grip on her own kunai under Sesshōmaru’s careful watch.

Kakashi stood off to the side, attempting to channel his chakra to replicate the Wind Scar. “You can do it, Sweetie!” Kaguya called out to him, causing him to blush above his mask.

“Everyone, this is Tenzō.”

Kushina returned to the training grounds with the tiny ninja on her hip. “Hello, I have a new name,” he waved with a bright, broad grin that melted the crowd in the parents’ section all over again.

Minato followed close behind, looking a bit paler than he had when he left. “Congratulations!” Sakumo met him with a hearty handshake. “Let me guess, she named him before you reached the Hokage’s office, huh,” he added in a hushed tone.

“Yeah, Lord Third pulled out the adoption papers as soon as Kushina walked in carrying him.” Minato’s gaze drifted to his new team of Genin and their chaotic training session. “What the actual fuck is happening here?”

“You left a dog-demon in charge of their training—”

“Half-demon,” Sesshōmaru corrected.

“Inuyasha, their sensei has returned now so you can stop not helping,” Kaede instructed.

“Whaddya mean ‘not helping’?  These brats are so weak Shippo could take them—”

“Inuyasha, sit down.” Kaede revealed the depth of her authority and untold power so effectively in those three words that not only Inuyasha but all three Genin and even Sakumo sat down on the training field in absolute obedience.

“Right, next time, I’ll put you in charge,” Minato said, awed. Then he addressed his team while Sakumo did his best to seem casual as he stood up. “We’ll cut the training short today; it is your first day, after all. We’ll just consider this an orientation, and start over fresh tomorrow,” he finished.

Kakashi, Obito, and Rin cheered as they ran to receive the adoration of their respective number one fans after completing their first day as real ninjas.

“Did you see me, Granny?” Obito asked, eager for recognition.

Kaede realized it immediately and chuckled as she smoothed one hand over his spiky hair. “Yes, I did, and I think you’ll be a Ho-ka-ge in no time,” she smiled.

“Do we have to leave right away, Lord Sesshōmaru?” Rin asked as she slipped her hand into her Guardian’s.

“No,” Sesshōmaru spoke in a gentler voice when he addressed his ward, “we will stay as long as it takes for me to complete my quest for the seven swords of the Mist.”

“You can live with us while you do…that,” Kakashi stared wide-eyed at Sesshōmaru as he offered the invitation without consulting his parents. Kaguya and Sakumo exchanged a confused look behind him.

Then Kakashi reached a hand out to pet Sesshōmaru’s fluffy, white fur trim as if he couldn’t resist it any longer, but Kaguya snatched it away, and furthered distracted him by saying, “how should we celebrate your graduation to Genin?”

“Count me out,” Inuyasha turned his back to the group. “As long as we’ll be here, I’m gonna look for jewel shards. Catch you later, losers,” he yelled over his shoulder as he leaped from view.

“I’m afraid I can’t join you either,” Minato lamented. “I have to go buy everything a child would need this afternoon.” Sakumo patted him on the shoulder reassuringly as Minato waved and walked away.

Kushina, however, remained behind with the rest and shifted Tenzō to her other hip. “We could go bowling,” she considered aloud.

“Yeah!” All three Genin shouted.

“What do you think; do you want to go bowling?” Kushina asked Tenzō directly.

He gasped. “Can I really go too?” He asked, melting even Sesshōmaru’s heart this time.

“Let’s go bowling,” Kaede said in her authoritative voice as she turned and strode back to the village, with the rest of the group trailing behind her.

The End