#we all have to learn and i have infinite patience for that

[core-augur]

When the DPS complains about bad healing after charging face first into a 1v6.

[exeggcute]

[walking confidently into a live minefield] I can't say for sure how we reached the point where "trans women everywhere (read as: everywhere online) oppress/hate/are secretly plotting the downfall of trans men" is a thing that people think is both true and reasonable to believe, but I think at least one factor is a stupid vicious cycle of bad actors and gullible bystanders where, like. you have some guys engaging in shitty misogynistic behavior > some women either try to explain why this behavior is shitty and misogynistic (to no avail) or just disengage entirely > instead of learning from this, the guys act all wounded about it > outside observers who don't have a great grasp on the situation (or maybe don't have great grasp on how misogyny functions in general, or think that only cis men can engage in misogynistic behaviors, or have some kind of unconscious hang-up against trans women) see this and think aw man, these poor dudes are getting ragged on for no reason! > people who weren't necessarily doing the original shitty misogynistic behavior are falsely pointing the finger at trans women for "starting shit" > this is obviously fucking irritating, and no one has an infinite well of patience, so after calmly defending themselves however many times, some of these ladies are just gonna start telling bad-faith jokers to fuck off > shitty dudes and gullible bystanders go "see, they're doing it again! those man-hating harpies!" > women continue to be irritated and (understandably) defensive, tell bad-faith jokers to fuck off > and so on and so forth.

and to be clear "vicious cycle" does not mean "oh well really it's everyone's fault for being involved in the whole mess." I think there's a pretty clear cause and effect here where if you're dismissive of women's voices and viewpoints, and hold them to unfair standards, and just generally aren't very nice, they might not be very nice to you in return. and why should they be!

[pyxxiestyxx]

The Lessons We Learn

I opened the door quietly, a lesson I learned from Xj'elothii. Ix would be startled by unexpected movement, something I made the mistake of exactly once. The look of panic, of an animal cornered and ready to claw its own throat out rather than give in…a lesson of grace.

I sat down next to the sophont, the….'terran', the floret-to-be, a lesson I learned from Eriœ. When I had met them so long ago, I made the mistake of sitting across from them, something Eriœ felt was confrontational. Establishing trust took far longer than it needed to, and it cost them an arm. A lesson of empathy.

I waited for the terran to speak first, this new floret of mine. A lesson I learned from Ererer-jwi. He was slow in everything. Slow to speak, slow to choose…slow to trust. I was so eager to come in and fix his ailments, but he needed a rock to lie under, not wind to whittle away at him. A lesson on patience.

It took a time, but eventually the terran turned to me. Their eyes were pained, just as Jaili's had been. Their hands were worn, just as Seraphii's had been. Their mouth was tight and wary, just as Ryu-7's had been.

Each one of them were so similar. And yet each one of them were so unique, a fractal of infinite spiralling depth and love. So many old moments lived anew.

This one little 'Terran' would never know how they remind me of all who came before them, and yet…and yet.

I will do everything I can to thank them for the gifts they bring me. The memories of the past, the love of the present, and the lessons for the future, for the next one. The floret-yet-to-be.

I smile, just as I have so many times over, and hold out a vine.

"Hello little one, it is so lovely to see you."

[lilithofpenandbook]

Sometimes Severus comes up to Minerva. Right up behind her when she's busy. He'll stand there for a good minute as she works on marking assignments and cursing the boy's youthful energy and brilliant eyes- both of which directly responsible for his finishing his work in half the time it takes her.

"What is it, Severus?" Minerva sighs. Might as well get the obligatory nonsense over and done with, she was due a dose of Severus's antics by now (Merlin forbid he go more than three days without bothering her with nonsensical questions or infuriating wit).

"Am I ugly, Minerva?" he asked. Never there was a being with such innocence in their voice.

Minerva took a moment to take in a breath and silently call on all her patience and all her strength. "Yes, very." Her tone was blunter than the knives used to decorate at Halloween- an incident with some particularly idiotic third years had them ban anything sharper than the corners of a book during the Halloween celebrations.

Severus gasped as if stabbed. "What? Minerva, I thought we were friends!"

Minerva snorted. "Any time we interact, it's completely against my will."

"Minerva! you lie so shamelessly it shocks me." Severus made as if to swoon, a hand clutching the right of his chest.

"You must be shocked; your heart isn't where it should be."

Honestly, Minerva had to admire the fact that the insolent little kitten did not falter in his dramatics with her pointing out the key flaw in his act. If anything, he seemed to be encouraged.

"Ay! The pain of the shock, it has spread throughout my chest! Ah, I cannot breathe!" Severus swayed on his feet, leaning against the chair that Minerva was sitting in. "Oh, how your lie shocks me!"

"Well, then, you had better tell me what exactly I lied about," Minerva said briskly, "before you gasp all the air out of your skinny little lungs, laddie."

"You said," the boy said, a sudden glint in his eye and none of the apparent weakness, standing to face her and one of those long, delicate fingers pointed straight at her, "you said, that our interactions are without your will."

"That is no lie, what part of this looks like it's my will?" Minerva replied, knowing full well she wasn't going to appreciate the cheeky answer Severus had prepared for her.

"Why, the part where you remain for my company, mother," Severus replied, his voice light. "Surely, if you didn't want this, you would have, in your infinite wisdom, simply have employed your great power and assumed your famous feline form and just walked away from me."

Minerva fought her smile. His cheek was infuriating while his logic impeccable. "Perhaps I am simply conversing my energy, you arrogant wee rascal."

"You? Too lazy to avoid a nuisance?" Severus scoffed. "Minerva, you wound me. Don't you know how I know you? You've done much more to avoid the mildest of annoyances, do you truly think I believe that you are here against your will merely to converse your energy?"

Minerva let him see the flicker of a smile disgusted as a smirk, letting the bothersome raven have a little treat for his cleverness, hinting to him that he had essentially won this particular argument. "At my age you no longer have the patience to waste on annoyances. You learn to value your peace. You will understand that some day, I hope, little one."

"And if I die, my hair still black and my skin still smooth?"

Merlin, did the child have a turn towards the morbid. Minerva ignored the voice in her that told her that this would have been a retort of her own had she been in a similar conversation.

"Then you'll die a fool."

"A fool, perhaps, but my funeral will be the biggest," he replied, moving to sit on her desk and grabbing the biscuit jar. Minerva intercepted, lifting it from his grip and replacing it with a towel. His protests died in his confusion at the towel, and Minerva huffed and began to wipe his hands as if he was a child. She did not trust him to correctly clean his hands after handling goodness knows what when experimenting with his potions and she didn't care if he knew it.

"Aye, and how did you figure that?" she asked.

"Surely if I die young, I shall be the first. Therefore you all will be part of the funeral-"

"What makes you think I would want to attend your funeral, you little rascal?" She let go of his hands, almost satisfied that they weren't contaminated.

Severus ignored her and instead took a biscuit from the jar. "You will all be there, therefore I will have the biggest funeral. If I die old, you all shall be gone, so my funeral will be the smallest."

Minerva tried not to think of how depressing that sounded, how lonely it seemed. For a brief moment she felt guilty for being so old and he so young. She involuntarily could see him in her mind's eye, going through their funerals until he stood alone. She and the others- Rolanda, Pomona, Poppy, even Fillus and Hagrid- they were all of an age, weren't they? They could expect their lives to reach the end around the same time, surely? Severus was but a child next to them, he'd stand alone one day.

Minerva tried to ignore the ache in her chest at the thought of him standing alone. Merlin, no. He was far too young. No.

"You truly are besotted with the morbid and the miserable, you melanchonic masochist," she said, her tone just a trifle too sharp to be a simple retort.

Severus paused, swallowing the biscuit. Then he answered. "Ah, but the morbid is much more fascinating, the forbidden has a certain thrill, dear mother." His voice was a little softer, and his fingers, slightly coated in crumbs, were gentle when he tapped her forehead. He was sorry he upset her.

"You and your thrills," Minerva scolded, "yet you cannot even eat a biscuit without making a mess of yourself." Yet even as she spoke, the hand that she used to swipe the crumbs away, was gentle, almost tender, in its movement. She had quite forgiven him.

How could she remain angry? At this boy who looked at her with a scowl of indignation yet whose deep, dark eyes twinkled with mischief and cleverness and brilliance, who stood taller than her, yes, yet was far more delicate in his build than she had ever been, whose hair was as dark as hers had been in her youth, carelessly falling across his forehead. No, she could not remain angry.

If only he had been in Gryffindor, perhaps then she would have noticed him sooner. Or rather, if only her eyes didn't only open for her Gryffindors. How this boy could ever look at her without resentment and anger, she didn't know. Then again, he had been so incredibly isolated and lonely, was it any wonder he let go of his rightful grudges and instead accepted her friendship?

Minerva blinked as if soot from the fireplace got in her eyes. She didn't want him to notice the tears that almost inevitably formed whenever she thought about him. Who would have thought that she'd cry so much for the little devil?

"I'll leave you to your work, dear mother," Severus said cheerfully, hopping off her desk.

"Aye, after you've cleared out my biscuit jar, you villain" Minerva grumbled, looking into the empty jar. Severus shrugged.

"You ought to see it as a compliment towards your taste, really," Severus said. "But I see I have taken the last of your patience"- for indeed, Minerva looked ready to strangle him- "so I shall take my leave. Good night, my good Headmistress, and may you have peace in the silver embrace of the moon!"

And with a laughing twinkle in his eye and a boyish bow, Severus Snape left the room.

Minerva sighed. She wasn't sure if it was out of relief, or because she may have felt some sorrow at his departure.

The door opened again, and a rather meek Severus poked his head in.

"Er, Minerva?" he asked.

"Yes, Severus?"

"Er." Severus stepped in, looking away from her, walking with the awkward gait of a newborn foal, and the nervousness of a deer. "Er, Minerva?"

"Yes, Severus?"

"Am I really ugly, mother?" His voice was a whisper. His raven hair curtained his face, hiding his shame at asking such a pathetic question, and his fingers picked at one of the cuticles of a nail.

Minerva smiled, and walked to him. Softly she brushed the boy's hair out of his face and gently tucked it behind his ear.

"Only as long as you let yourself believe it, dear heart."

[synnthamonsugar]

Still thinking about this post and continuing to be frustrated about Elsie, and how poorly developed her relationship with Eris and Drifter is, and how underutilized their friendship is in general.

Thinking about the intersections of their lives. Elsie knows Eris and Drifter, even if they don't know her. Elsie has faced off against Eris at her worst, and now stands at her side at her best. Elsie has found Drifter dead as he desperately and selfishly tried to survive, and now he's alive, more sure of himself, more willing to look out for his friends.

And Eris and Drifter don't know Elsie at first, but they must trust her for their collective survival — for humanity, the Traveler and the Light, if they are to use Darkness against Darkness.

Thinking about the parallels of their stories. Elsie, who like Eris trapped in the Pit, has pressed on day after day, held onto hope against better reason, who finally finds a way out, traumatized, changed, but wiser. Elsie, who like Drifter, has lived by different names and identities, has endured betrayal, and withstood apocalypse.

Thinking about these three as the three who transcended their design, as foretold by The Nine. The hourglass counting down with infinite patience, the forgotten blade sharpened anew, and the dredgen. Their meeting is not just happenstance, but fate.

How satisfying it would have been for them to find in each other what they lost or never had. For Elsie, friends to walk at her side as she escapes the cycle and faces an unknown future. For Eris, a fireteam; not a replacement for her lost comrades, but a chance to make new ones. And Drifter gets a crew he will neither be betrayed by nor forced to betray — learning the real meaning of trust.

I think a catastrophic disservice has been done to all three by focusing on Eris' and Drifter's relationship, all but cutting Elsie out of the picture. It would have been so much more powerful to have Eris send a radio message to Elsie and Drifter talking about how their friendship helped her aspire to more than survival. Imagine if all three continued their studies of the Pyramid and its technology together, continuing the arc first started in Beyond Light. (This one is shockingly egregious for being set on Europa and hand-waving Elsie away to focus on Eris and Drifter — as the fandom does.) What if Elsie and Drifter had visited Eris together in Season of the Witch, what if Elsie had told Eris that she trusted her despite the terror she felt at Eris picking up the mantle of hive god as she had in all her dark futures, instead of getting into fights with Ikora over it?

These are relatively small tweaks to the narrative that would have kept Elsie relevant beyond her role as emotional support sister to Ana, would have added depth to all three, and truly established them as a "Dark" mirror to the Vanguard. I'm heartened that all three were together at the final battle, but it sucks that we got zero development of their relationship between their fight with House Salvation in BL, and the very end of TFS.

Just!! What they could have been. What the writers and fandom could have made of them. Man.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Here's a two-parter idea for hc (idk this time if it's a full or a Mini, I'll let you choose ;) )

1. How do the M6 hold babies? Who's a natural and who has the stiff "toddler who's meeting their baby sibling for the first time" hold? Who likes them & vice versa? Who's the person you hand a baby to & then immediately have to take it back bc something about their aura immediately made the baby freak out?

2. Similar vein; like the wands in Harry Potter, we all know kids pick and choose who they like & nobody has a choice in the matter. Which of the M6 do kids like? Who's a natural child repellent? Who do the kids always undyingly attach themselves to even though by all means that person seems like the last parson the children would fall in love with?

Feel free to include the courtiers or any other side characters too if you like, I think that'd be funny

The Arcana HCs: M6 with Kids

~ @themushroomgoesyeet this started out as a mini-hc and then I got so carried away I turned them into a full series. XD thanks friend! ^.^ - brainrot ~

Julian

Loves kids!! so young! so small! so full of life and energy!

Kids tend to be initially cautious when approaching him (he's so tall, and edgy-looking, and kind of loud)

But as soon as he notices them he's folding up his gangly legs so he can crouch at their level and make eye contact and ask them about their day and introduce himself to their toys

And oh my, the stories he comes up with - it's not uncommon for you to lose him in the marketplace and come back about thirty minutes later to find him seated on a crate, about fifteen children of varying ages sitting in front of him, hanging onto his every word with stars in their eyes as he props up a toddler with one hand and wildly gestures with the other

Depending on how enthusiastic his audience gets and how much time he has to work with, he may or may not teach them the basics of improv and catch them up in acting out his story

It's impossible to pull him away once he's appointed different kids to their roles and gotten them started on his fantastical adventure

Remembers all their names and faces and preferences and goes out of his way to wave hello to them if he ever spots them while he's out and about

Asra:

Kids love the look and smell and feel of them but they rarely approach them because of how generally detached they seem

He's quite fond of kids himself, and they will straight up worship him if he puts effort into connecting with them, but most of the time he's too lost in his own wanderings to get around to it

Has strong feelings about their well being though, and will drop everything if they see one in need of assistance and not receiving it

Always accidentally ends up in a teacher's role (it's his infinite patience), he's just bad at knowing what might or might not be a good idea to teach them

How to knit? Wonderful! Now they have a new, soothing, productive hobby and skill set

How to pick a lock? No!! Now they're going to apply their scary levels of creativity and tininess to getting access into spaces they really shouldn't be in!

Known to randomly distract them during scary public things (you found them putting on an impromptu magic show in an alleyway for all the kids in the street right after a nasty cart crash)

Has an easier time with kids than with babies. Babies can't talk, if something's wrong they just cry while you try to troubleshoot

Nadia

She regards them with distance and respect and they do the same for her

It's much easier to care for them with improved infrastructure and accessible education than it is to learn what kinds of bodily fluids are normal on a child and what kinds aren't

(spoiler alert - snot is normal. snot is expected. snot will be everywhere. snot can never be fully cleaned up.)

Kids pick up on this, and are generally more likely to admire the very pretty lady from a distance than they are to walk up and start talking to her

Every now and then, though, some precocious child will start following the trail of her perfume, which will lead them to her skirt, which they will bury their snot-covered face in because it's soft and smells nice

And every time, without fail, Nadia will pause what she's doing and bend down to politely introduce herself and ask for their name without a single though to the mess on her clothes

She actually does better with babies than with kids, because it's easier for her to hold and physically protect a baby than it is to try to have a conversation with a child and quickly discover just how different Toddler Logic is from Adult Logic

Muriel

Small children congregate around him in droves and he has no idea why

They are small, they are fragile, they are living creatures who do not deserve to be hurt or abandoned, why are they crowding around his feet instead of holding onto their parents???

From a child's point of view, it's quite logical

Man is tall. Man is quiet. Man stands still. Man has gentle aura. Man provides shade. Man is clearly a tree (for chilling next to, and attempting to climb on, and occasionally bringing flowers to)

If Muriel can muster enough courage to break his initial "freeze" response, he'll find a corner to sit in so he can be extra stable and not run the risk of accidentally crushing someone

You found him like this once at a party, sitting still as a stone, with two kids chatting with each other on his lap, one scaling the sheer cliffside of his back, one perched on his shoulder sticking flowers in his hair, and two more playing with his hands (which are easily the size of their faces)

He gave you the same look you'd expect from someone stuck with a cat sleeping on their lap

Will listen to and remember any story he gets told and mention it later in conversation

Portia

Loves kids!!! x2

Unfortunately, she tends to scare the shy ones off at first with her intensity, which does make her cry herself to sleep sometimes

She has both the physical energy and the delightful imagination that perfectly suits her to joining into any game the kids around her come up with and making it one of the most exciting experiences of their tiny lives

She's also brilliantly prepared to comfort a child through any burden their small souls carry

Runny nose? She's got a handkerchief. Skinned knee? She's got band-aids. Dehydrated? She's got a water bottle. Hurt feelings? she gives the best (seriously, the best) comforting hugs

Nobody can mediate squabbles like she can (she brokered a trade deal with Firent, she can easily handle playground territory fights)

Over the years she's become the confidant of many tiny ones and you've caught her more than once mending a torn skirt or fixing a broken toy for a kid who didn't want to have to confess to their parents and face the consequences on their own

Does she fill you in on all the little one's gossip and drama? Of course. Does she take it just as seriously as her job? Absolutely

Lucio

He likes kids more than he thinks he does. Unfortunately, they're not usually fond of him at first

When he looks at kids he just sees tiny people who aren't quite big enough yet to go to real parties or do anything interesting with him

That said, he also likes to help people. In the past it was partially to show off, but he genuinely enjoys making someone else's day brighter and knowing he was the reason for it

Plus, kids are considerably easier to impress than grown ups are

Children, on the other hand, are more likely to see a very loud blonde man with a scary metal arm and walk in the other direction

Lucio does not like it when anyone, child or otherwise, takes one look at him and walks away

He must convince them otherwise

Usually resorts to sweets (he's got his own weakness for cookies, even if he still has no idea how to make them)

You've watched him win the admiration of about thirty tiny people in fifteen seconds flat when he loudly proclaimed that he'd be buying any treat any children wanted from the baker's stall

To say that he was still talking about the stars in their eyes when they looked at him three weeks later is an understatement

[bestworstcase]

there is something i find really interesting with regard to the general consensus on salem that seems to have emerged in the year+ since v9 wrapped—namely that salem must be defeated somehow first, and then if she’s still alive in any meaningful sense she may be persuaded to stand with the heroes against the gods and/or heroically sacrifice herself in some way to save the world. it’s a strange amalgamation of entrenched fanon about her (salem disdains modern humans and only wants to die and is a spoiled evil bitch throwing a tantrum) with the now overtly textual point that the god of light is not any kind of cosmic authority, which sits uncomfortably next to the notion that questioning his rules constitutes unforgivable entitlement. eyeroll.

but theories in this vein always leave unanswered the questions of how? why?—akin to the widespread fanon presumption that summer and/or raven asked the lamp’s first question (how did they learn her name? why did they stop at one? why didn’t raven tell yang how to use the lamp, if she knew how? i still have yet to see anyone who takes this theory seriously even attempt to close these gaps). how is salem to be defeated, and why does this lead to her joining the heroes? why do they accept her help at all?

these are not impossible questions to come up with an answer for, but it strikes me as very strange to speculate about what will happen without first considering the how and why. the unspoken presupposition regarding salem’s defeat is perhaps purgation via silver eyes, which is its own can of worms and one that i don’t think holds up to close scrutiny.

overcoming impossible odds is a mainstay of fantasy for a reason, but i don’t think it’s an accident that v9 underscores the “how are we supposed to stop salem?” quandary in the way it does before ending the volume with the blacksmith gently suggesting that kindness, compassion, and patience are the only way to restore balance. it’s a mistake to turn their backs on the cat out of spite rather than reach out in empathy; likewise saving neo and letting her go is the right thing to do.

so the question of how to defeat salem is twofold; first the practical consideration of whether it is even meaningfully possible to force her to stop (all signs suggest ‘no’) and second the even more salient factor of what salem herself wants and what she will do to get it. raze kingdoms and torture a child, certainly, but is she beyond reason?

the thing is

well, consider it from the perspective of the kids once they return from the ever after. so long as she is not in vacuo, ‘defeating salem’ remains an abstract goal—something they can figure out later, once she’s here, once they’ve dealt with the more immediate problem of the crown, once they have a moment to catch their breath and prepare a counteroffensive… it’s, in a sense, imaginary. but what happens when salem either arrives in vacuo with half a million grimm, or they take that fuckoff huge battleship of theirs to vale for a defiant heroic stand only to watch her, you know, rip it apart like tissue paper?

(remember how important amity the communications satellite was in v7-8? how crucial it was to try to restore the world’s ability to talk to each other? ripping that satellite apart to repurpose it into a really big gun is not going to end well for them. that is, to be blunt, an ironwood move.)

what then?

realistically: you cannot ‘stand united’ your way out of an inexhaustible siege against an enemy who is empowered by your fear and fatigue. defenders win sieges when the besieging force can no longer sustain itself—a besieging force with infinite reinforcements that doesn’t have logistical considerations will win. period. game over. (this is one reason i think they’re likely to try a counteroffensive; they have to defeat salem before she attacks vacuo because even if they repel an open assault, all she has to do is encircle the city to starve them into submission.)

and if the counteroffensive fails—which it will; remember what cinder did to amity with a single fireball?—then their fallback measures are 1. the sword of destruction (which they know won’t destroy her, otherwise jinn would have answered ozma’s third question differently) or 2. silver eyes (untested and hitherto unreliable). to use the sword they have to risk taking it out of the vault, and salem is probably counting on them to take that risk; all of them are operating under the assumption that if ruby blasts salem with her eyes and fails, salem will capture and warp her into a monster, which would have a devastating impact on morale.

turning her inner circle against her worked, but 1. it only bought them a little more than an hour of reprieve before she reconstituted and 2. her inner circle has been winnowed of everyone open to persuasion (cinder might stab salem in the back for her own reasons, but she sure as hell is not going to become less of a problem for the heroes if she does and she’s not going to listen to a word they have to say because, as far as she’s concerned, huntsmen and huntresses are just slave-catchers with a superiority complex). so that’s out, as a strategic approach.

what’s… left? realistically?

rwby is first and foremost a hopeful story, and the plain reality of this conflict is that the heroes have no hope of winning, short of a literal deus ex machina; the best ending they can achieve is to force a stalemate, driving salem back into exile or trapping her somewhere—and that’s fucking bleak. "we saved the charred husk of the old status quo by kicking the can down the road hooray" is not by any means a happy ending, and the only way to get rid of salem after doing so is to invite the gods back to be tyrants again.

hopeful story. hopeless unwinnable conflict. what’s the answer? how do you ignite real, incandescent hope in such overwhelming darkness?

you… circle around from a new direction. immovable obstacle -> change course. a river flows around a boulder. you can’t stop salem by force, you can’t destroy her, but can you reach her? persuade her? help her? has anyone ever tried? if you can’t beat 'em—

what do they have to lose, at this point? two kingdoms gone. strictly speaking, the heroes destroyed atlas, not salem, even though she and ironwood together forced their hand: i think this is an important thing to keep in mind, because it creates an opening for understanding. salem is not alone in feeling kingdom-razing levels of desperation. nothing else they’ve tried has worked. why not ask her why she’s doing this? why not at least try?

v9 promises an inflection point toward a happy ending, not that everything will magically start to go their way now. remember that the original plan for this volume was to have this searingly hopeful departure from the ever after slam into the harsh unexpected blow of “and while they were gone, salem utterly destroyed vale.” it’s always darkest before the dawn. you pick yourself up from rock bottom and you’re still standing in a deep hole. v10 is going to feel crushingly bleak because it’s going to be ABOUT rising up again from that brutally crushing blow of how bad things are in vacuo.

v9 is the looking glass; v8 and v10 are reflections. “that’s actually a risk we haven’t considered” is the turning point in v8 and i think it will be the turning point in v10 as well… in v8 it’s opening the vault and using the relic to get everyone to safety, but v8 also made a point of putting another risk on the table that everyone flatly rejected: penny suggests taking salem at her word that she’ll leave in peace if they bring her the staff. that happens at the beginning of v8; i think it will happen again at the end of v10, most likely in the form of either 1. salem revealing she has thousands of people alive but trapped in mountain glenn and promising their release in exchange for the sword, or 2. salem arriving in vacuo with a million grimm and offering the same terms as before.

they can’t just hand over the relic, obviously. but meeting her halfway—risking negotiation, instead of dismissing the possibility out of hand—is the paradigm-shattering hopeful answer they need.

and i think it’s a much stronger narrative choice, because it challenges expectations and services the core themes of the story as opposed to, at best, implying that what the woman who is being actively tortured by genocidal gods really needs is to be curbstomped and taught a lesson. lol

[literary-motif]

Hey! Please, Andrew nsfw with a shy inexperienced darling?

New To This (NSFW)

Andrew Marston x Reader

“So, what do you think?” Andrew asked hesitatingly, almost nervous as you shoved another spoonful of pasta into your mouth. He had made an old recipe his grandmother had taught him when he was growing up. 

She had been a sweet woman, even if she had been trapped by her circumstances. In all her life, he was certain she never missed Sunday mass once, always dutifully bowing before the altar and praying the rosary every day. It hurt seeing her get taken advantage of by his grandfather or her own children, simply because she was kind and possessed infinite patience. 

Remembering her funeral still put a sour taste in his mouth.

Andrew cleared his throat, forcing a smile that turned genuine when he saw your happy expression. “I hope the amount of salt I added is agreeable?”

“If I knew you were such a good cook I’d have spared us the fiasco of that potato dish I tried to make last time,” you laughed, ducking your head in slight embarrassment at the memory of Andrew standing in the doorway to your apartment — hair nicely arranged and roses in hand — just to find you looking back at him mortified as you began to explain that the potatoes had exploded.

“The pizza we got instead was quite nice though,” he smiled, “and you flatter me. This was not hard to make at all. I can teach you one day if you’d like.”

You rested your chin on your hand, narrowing your eyes at him in false contemplation. “Hmm. You know actually, I think I much prefer you cooking for me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as you continued eating. “I’d love to,” he said, smirking at you, “if you do the dishes afterward.”

“Deal.” 

The dishes were quite easy to do, even if it seemed tedious at first. Andrew had insisted that your little arrangement did not apply to the date you were currently on, but you had insisted in turn that helping out in the kitchen was the least you could do. 

Besides, doing household chores could be soothing, and as you cleaned the plates, handing them to Andrew to dry, the feeling of domesticity washing over you made warmth settle deep in your chest.

“I could have done this myself, you know,” he said, storing the last pot and hanging the tea towel to dry. 

You stepped up to him, wrapping your arms around him from behind and resting your head on his shoulder. You could feel his chuckle reverberating against your chest. He turned, embracing you properly before leaning in to kiss you.

“But thank you for your help,” he murmured in between kisses, beginning to lead you to the bedroom with swaying steps. He stopped as you reached the bed, loosening the embrace to look at you. 

You looked away. “Andrew—”

“It’s quite alright. We can cuddle if you’d like that,” he said, brushing your hair back and tilting your head up to look at him. 

“It’s not that,” you said, clearing your throat, “I’ve never done this before and I’m— uh — nervous, I suppose.”

“I’m not the most experienced either,” he said, caressing your cheek and making your eyes flutter shut. Andrew had a sense of calmness about him that immediately put you at ease. “We could learn together if you’d like?” he asked, waiting for your response as he searched your gaze.

“I’d like that,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him as he lowered you onto the bed. 

Whatever insecurities you had melted away as he kissed you, looking at you with such softness in his eyes that nearly made you tear up. You undressed each other slowly, taking your time to feel entirely comfortable before continuing. 

Andrew liked peppering your skin with kisses, whereas you enjoyed tracing your fingers over his, relishing in his shivers as your hands roamed his body. “I love you,” he whispered as all your clothing littered the floor and he looked at your body before him. “You’re magnificent.”

His sincerity and the intensity of his stare made you suddenly feel shy, and you squirmed on the bed, fighting the urge to tug on the covers and hide. 

“Darling, what’s wrong?” he asked, moving to stop leaning over you and instead sitting back. “Are you uncomfortable? Would you like to stop?”

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. “No, I’m fine. It’s just— I feel weirdly vulnerable.” You offered your hand to him and Andrew took it without hesitation, allowing you to pull him down until your faces were mere inches apart again. “And maybe I’m a bit intimidated by the situation,” you added, feeling your cheeks burn at the adoration shining in his eyes.

“There is no pressure, darling,” he said, leaning down to kiss you. “Are you sure you would like to continue?” 

“Yes, Andrew,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving your hips until you brushed against his hard cock, making him groan. 

He put a hand on your hip, stilling your movements. “I’d rather we do this slowly,” he said, rolling off of you as you nodded in agreement. “Angle your legs,” he said, caressing your side before his fingers brushed against your entrance, making you tense. 

“Wait,” you said. Andrew backed off immediately. “I— Can I hold your hand?”

He smiled, intertwining the fingers of his free hand with yours and slowly kissing along your collarbone. 

You sighed, sinking into the pillows as Andrew continued kissing you. “Go ahead,” you murmured, trying to relax as his fingers brushed against you again. He looked up at you, slowly easing a finger inside and making you moan. 

“Does this feel good?” he asked, beginning to work you open gently. 

You nodded, squeezing his hand as your eyes fell shut in bliss. “Add another,” you breathed. 

Andrew complied, making you groan as he continued thrusting his fingers. He tilted his head up to kiss you, melting against you as your hand threaded through his hair and his lips swallowed your moan as he brushed against your sweet spot.

“Here?” he asked, angling his fingers in the same manner and making you arch your back. 

“Yes,” you moaned, holding onto his hand tighter as pleasure coiled inside you, Andrew’s fingers making you gasp and whine until you bit your lip self-consciously, trying to make less noise. “I think that’s enough,” you breathed, trailing your hand down his chest, “I want to feel you.”

Andrew nodded, licking his lips nervously. “Are you sure?” he asked, pulling out his fingers and looking at you uncertainly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you reassured him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, “and we can always stop, so don’t worry. I trust you.”

“I trust you, too,” he said, touching his forehead to yours as he rolled on top of you. “Are you sure, darling?”

“Yes,” you said, gasping as he slowly pushed himself inside. “Fuck, keep going,” you panted, squeezing his hand and trying to relax as he entered you fully with careful thrusts. 

Andrew groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and shuddering at the feeling of you around him. “How are you?” he asked after catching his breath, raising his head to look into your eyes. 

“Good,” you breathed, craning your neck to kiss him. He smiled into it, holding onto your hand tightly. “What about you?” you asked when you broke apart.”

“Amazing,” he said, kissing your lips again. “Can I move?”

You nodded, gasping as he began his slow thrusts. “Ah, you feel so good,” you moaned, beginning to tremble as he picked up the pace, all thoughts about keeping quiet forgotten as you allowed yourself to be swept away by the pleasure building inside of you.

“Is this alright?” Andrew panted, holding onto you tightly as he continued rolling his hips. 

“You’re doing so well,” you said, shuddering as he brushed against a spot that made your toes curl. “Andrew— right there, I liked that. Do that again.”

“Like this?” he groaned, hitting that spot again and making you mewl. He trembled, feeling you clench around him. “I’m close, darling. I’m— I’m—”

“Yes. Yes,” you whined, Andrew fading from your vision as your eyes rolled back and you came with a shudder. He fell over the edge as well, squeezing your hand tightly and crashing his lips to yours only to break apart a moment later as both of you fought for breath.

“Wow,” you said, shifting to cuddle into his side as Andrew laid down next to you, opening his arms to feel you close. “That was great,” you mumbled, burying your face in his neck and trying to fend off sleep.

“I agree,” he said, resting his head on top of yours and stifling a yawn. “I love you, darling.”

You chuckled contently. “Love you, too,” you said, sighing as you raised your head hesitatingly, “I think we should clean up.”

“Yes,” Andrew said, making no effort to get up. “In a moment, darling. Five more minutes like this, please.”

[tgmsunmontue]

Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide 12/?

Maverick is unknowingly surrounded by Transformers. He knows something is up though. Just not quite what it is exactly.

Bradley and Jake, having never met, are embarking on their own journeys and will have to learn to deal with the fact that they've both been adopted by Transformers.

Despite having years more experience, Maverick is no help at all.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN

TWELVE

                “I’m still technically on leave,” Jake muses, wonders if he’s expected to cut it short. Definitely a question for Admiral Kazansky when he’s less busy talking to Captain Mitchell. He wonders if he’ll ever get to the point where he’s comfortable using their callsigns like Bradley is.

                “Me too. And yet we’re both standing around in our khakis. Well. Borrowed khakis in your case.”

                “Yeah. Looking forward to getting out of them.”

                “Yeah, me too. Uh. Yeah.”

                “How about we blow this joint and go grab some food. Think Bronco is ready to leave?” Jake asks, glancing at Bradley, noticing that he must have gotten sunburnt during the day judging from his pink face. Also he’s a little impressed with himself having already shifted from calling Bronco simply Bronco, rather than the Bronco.

                “He does look pretty engaged with whatever Starscream is saying, but can’t hurt to ask. Not like we can go anywhere if he isn’t…” Bradley adds under his breath and Jake laughs.

                “I can just drive us in the truck… going to have to drive it home actually. Huh. Yeah,” Jake muses, because that’s a logistical nightmare with Jetfire in the back. Then again it’s no longer his problem, surely that was the whole purpose of this meeting was to figure that out. “Actually, I’m going to change. Got a spare set of clothes in the truck. You go and talk to Bronco…”

                Bradley nods and sets off toward them, leaving Jake to watch him walk away and he does watch, admires the view because Bradley’s legs seem long but he also seems to strut; doesn’t walk the same way as so many of the military men and women Jake knows. It’s unusual enough to draw his eye. He glances away, only to find both Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell looking at him, and he flushes; hopes they can’t see from how far away they are. He turns and walks toward the truck, calls it a strategic retreat rather than running away.

…            …            …

                Bradley is glad that Bronco is more than ready to leave, his patience with dealing with Starscream clearly not infinite; also he can tell Starscream is maybe holding back from hitting Bronco. Definitely time for them to have a break from one another. He does insist on heading back to Ice’s place. If Jake is walking around in civvies he’s definitely not going to spend a second longer in uniform than he has to.

                Ice and Mav follow them; he dodges Mav’s attempts of trying to talk, mumbles about going out to get something to eat and maybe catching a movie with Jake. Hopefully that’ll mean he can put off talking to him for another day. Still needs time to process the bombshell that Bronco dropped, figure out if it changes anything other than his relationship with Mav and Ice. He takes the spare key and tells them they’ll be back in a few hours and to not wait up, which gets him some spluttering from Mav and a quietly amused look from Ice but he doesn’t care.

                They go to a diner and order burgers, Jake ordering an extra side of onion rings and a lime milkshake which Bradley wrinkles his nose over but then has to admit isn’t completely awful when Jake insists he try some. They have heaps of time to kill so they walk to the movie theater, which Bronco seems a little incensed about, however Bradley can’t stop thinking about his mom not wanting him to fly. He’s been flying for a couple of years now, his hard work and sheer stubbornness bleeding into spite to prove Maverick wrong only to find out that it’s not what has been the reason all along. And of course he cares about what his mom wanted for him, but he doesn’t know if he cares about the happiness of a dead woman over his own and living the life he wants.

                “What would you do?”

                “Uh… about what?” Jake asks, and Bradley realizes he’s been holding an entire conversation in his head as they walked in silence.

                “Shit. Sorry. Just… If you found out that your parents didn’t want you to do something and you went and did it anyway?”

                Jake chuckles then and pulls a face, shrugs a little and pushes his sunglasses up his nose.

                “Uh… I did exactly that. My parents weren’t thrilled at the idea of me joining. Were dead set against it in fact. My uncle is still blamed to this day for making me dream of flying. He’s a crop duster, but at least his career is farming adjacent.”

                “Your family are farmers?”

                “Farmers or ranchers. Apart from my uncle I’m the only one that has ever left the state for more than a vacation.”

                “Oh.”

                “Yep.”

                “And they…”

                “They’ve learnt to deal with it. It’s my life. Not theirs. They get worried, but unless you’re going to shut yourself away there’s inherent risk in day-to-day life right?”

                “Yeah, I guess so.”

                “I know so. And now we have Transformers as part of our day-to-day lives, and if that isn’t the craziest and most amazing thing…”

                “Are your parents proud of you though?”

                Jake blinks.

                “Yeah. Yeah of course they’re proud of me. They want me to be happy. Of course they wish I could be happy living within a few clicks of home, but that was never going to be me…”

                “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

                “I always am…”

                Bradley rolls his eyes, which Jake catches and laughs at, bumping his shoulder on purpose as they walk.

…            …            …

                Jake stares at the selection of movies, knows what he wants to go and see, but Bradley hasn’t even looked at the poster he doesn’t think. Instead he’s looking at the brightly colored poster featuring dozens if not hundreds of balloons.

                “A kids movie? Really? I was thinking the Star Trek or Fast and Terminator?”

                “Spaceships blowing up or robots killing people… both a little too close to home. I want… something happy. It’s a kid’s movie, guaranteed happy ending right?”

                Jake looks at the movie posters again, wonders how suggesting Angels and Demons would go over. Huh. Actually maybe a kids movie is a good idea.

                “Fine. But maybe Night at the Museum? I enjoyed the first movie…”

                “We can do both. I don’t want to go back and have to talk to Maverick.”

                “Oh. Okay. Sure. We can do two movies…”

                “Thanks. Not ready to hash it over with him yet…”

                “But you’re okay talking to a complete stranger?” Jake asks as they approach the ticket booth.

                “Yeah, you’re not emotionally invested. Maverick and Ice are… well, they’re the only family I have. And as I said, I haven’t really spoken to them in eight years. It feels… awkward.”

                “Oooh,” Jake says. “Right. Got you. I can help run interference if you like? I’ve had plenty of practice.”

                Bradley laughs at that, but doesn’t ask him what with, instead buys two tickets and tells Jake he can grab snacks. He bites back the comment about Bradley already being one, because friends. That’s what he’s aiming for here. Like Javy. Another bro. Right. He can manage that, is going to have to because they’re going to be working together for the foreseeable future and he’s not going to fuck up his career before it’s even started.

…            …            …

                Jake talks during the trailers and Bradley hopes like hell he’s not they type of person that talks through the entire movie, will reach over and cover his mouth with his hand if he has to.

                “Okay… that kind of looks funny. Do you think Admiral Kazansky is a fan of all the ice-themed movies that have been coming out? That’s the third one right?”

                “I don’t know. You can ask him.”

                Fortunately when the movie starts proper Jake falls quiet, which makes him relieved. Then he wonders what the hell kind of kids’ movie this is, tears prickling at his eyes and for fucks sake, he wanted a movie that was going to be happy and lighthearted and now he’s crying. Just has to hope Jake doesn’t notice. Of course that’s when Jake talks, but he’s sniffing and it makes Bradley feel better.

                “Fucking hell, I don’t remember kids’ movies packing such emotional gut punches when I was a kid…”

                Bradley hums in agreement, doesn’t want to actually encourage the talking. Fortunately the movie does actually become funnier, although Jake’s under-the-breath comments about a flying house being next on the Navy’s list of aircraft to acquire forces Bradley to hide a bark of laughter. It’s a better movie than he was expecting, although it’s also not the happy and funny movie he was after, it is too much of an emotional rollercoaster to make him feel settled. As he watches Carl watch his house drift away he swallows against the tightness in his throat and thinks about his own dream of flying, and how giving it up because of anyone is ridiculous. Fucking hell, he was not expecting to become so reflective after seeing a kids’ movie.

                They file out of the theatre with the other movie goers, Jake insists on getting the tickets for the next movie, both of them using the bathroom and getting more popcorn. This time he’s prepared for Jake’s chatter during the trailers, and he’s less annoyed now, knowing it’ll stop once the movie starts. He lets Bradley know which movies he wants to go and see, and when there’s a trailer for a romcom featuring Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds he hears Jake hum and he grins into the darkness. The second movie is definitely funnier and less emotionally charged than the first, which is a relief.

…            …            …

                “Well, it’s past eleven. You think we’ve stayed out late enough for you to avoid talking to everyone?” Jake asks as they head outside, wonders what Bradley is doing as he looks up and down the street.

                “How the fuck did we see two movies that both featured flying in them so heavily?”

                “The first movie was called Up, that should have been a clue. Also that movie should come with a fucking warning. And wait, where are you going? We parked that way.”

                “Yeah. That way if your ride can’t just move itself whenever it wants. He’s just down there,” Bradley says, pointing. Sure enough Jake can now see Bronco sitting about five cars away, and now it’s clear Bradley knew exactly what he was looking for.

                “Holy shit that’s useful. Bet you’ve never had a parking ticket.”

                “Huh… no. I haven’t. I’ve always…”

                “Let me guess. Little goody-two-shoes, always following the rules…”

                “Yeah. Can’t really risk bringing negative attention to myself.”

                “Fair,” Jake concedes, because as much as he might poke fun, he’s very much the same, his years at USNA drilling that into him, along with DADT making him cautious. The fact that Bradley knows, and Admiral Kazansky and likely Captain Mitchell… and Jake feels fine with them all knowing tells him he’s come a decent way from his fear and shame of his teen years. Not that he can do anything about it with DADT in effect, however knowing that others have managed to have long and meaningful relationships under DADT make him more hopeful at least.

                “Useful to have though…” Jake adds as he slides into the passenger side and Bradley grins.

                “You have no idea. Bronco here is the best, has let me get away with forgetting my keys, never putting in gas… drives while I sleep.”

                “Huh. That’s pretty amazing.”

                “I'm amazing; I'm incredible. I'm a miracle, a dream come true. I'm marvelous; I'm beautiful,” sings a voice from the radio suddenly and Jake startles a little.

                “And so humble with it too…” Bradley says with a laugh, patting the dash and Jake laughs, a little nervously, having forgotten that Bronco was… there as well.

                “That how you guys communicate?”

                “When he’s not transformed. I never saw him transformed until the same time you did… But yeah. Song lyrics have been our communication method all these years.”

                “That’s so fucking cool… wild huh?”

                “Yeah. Pretty wild.”

…            …            …

                They get back to Admiral Kazansky’s house, and like Bradley had been hoping for all the lights are off. Bradley opens the garage door and Bronco parks up before shifting to bump against Dustdrift, who almost goes flying given their size differential. They say goodnight and Jake is starting to feel the events of the day catching up with him, and tomorrow he will figure out what the logistics are for getting Jetfire to Fallon, his families horse truck back to Texas, and then how he’s going to spend the rest of his leave and then how he’s going to get to Fallon himself.

                “Uh… did you want to share again or go use the other guest room?”

                Jake blinks at the out-of-the-blue question, wonders if he can use the same reason, about not wanting to dirty up more linen than necessary. Except he feels that maybe he could share with Bradley that he sleeps better with other people around, except he’s also trying to lay mental boundaries around being friends.

                “Too quiet right?” Bradley asks and Jake lets out a breath of relief that he’s said it.

                “Yeah. Exactly.”

                “It’s all good. I’m used to sharing.”

                “Oh. Uh. Won’t they mind?”

                “Huh?”

                “You’re uh… boyfriend? Girlfriend? Person you usually share with?” Jake asks, because that’s how he’s taking that statement; and seriously, if Bradley has someone then it’ll make Jake’s life easier putting some boundaries in place.

                “Oh! No. No. I mean… I’m used to sharing space too. I share a bed with my best friend sometimes, but she’d have my balls if I ever referred to her as… well… anything. I think sometimes she even denies knowing me, let alone being my friend.”

                Jake laughs, because he’s sure that Javy sometimes does the same.

                “Cool. I’m just going to have a shower. You want the bathroom first?”

                “Nah, it’s all good. I’ll go down the hall and brush my teeth.”

                When Jake comes out of the shower Bradley is curled up fast asleep, despite all the lights still being on. He takes the opportunity to just look his fill before shaking his head and turning off the lights.

THIRTEEN

[anemoiashifts]

how to enjoy shifting again & recover from burn out.

its always about the process & never the outcome.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ mindset.

so what you didn’t shift ? shifting isn’t going away. you have an infinite amount of chances to shift & the greatest part is you only have to do it once “right”. you only have to get to your dr once & show yourself that you’re capable. prove the existence of shifting to yourself.

if you didn’t shift & say something like “i hate that im still in this reality”, try flipping it to “the universe has more to show me in this reality so that i can have the tools to cope & enter my desired reality with more knowledge & insight”. every time you open an app like tiktok or tumblr you’re being exposed to new information which can be draining at times (all in moderation) but knowledge is power. knowing & exposure to information — different perspectives — can be eye opening. you’re also getting time. time to think about where you’re shifting to, to learn to put trust into yourself.

for those of you who have been trying to shift since 2020, what parts of life & lessons would you have missed out on if you had shifted on the first time trying ? the universe has more to show you & is teaching you patience.

the universe or god or even yourself — whatever you believe in — is “preventing” you from shifting for a reason. & guess what ? you’ll come out of it a more fulfilled & experienced person. the universe knows what’s best for you. when you don’t get what you want it’s because the universe has something better for you coming.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ reflect.

would it have been good or healthy for you if you shifted to your first dr. think about the things you’ve scripted. would you really want that life or do you like the just thinking about it ?

reflect on your journey. look at your scripts & knowledge & everything you have come to know since discovering shifting. compare your mindset & journey & your knowledge from then to now.

are you in a better place mentally ? yes ? no ? if not, how can you get there.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ routine & self.

create the routine your desired reality self has. what would she wake up & think everyday ? would she go to the gym & workout or shower ? what would her day to day look like ?

we must become out dr self internally before we can see things begin to materialize in the physical.

fall in love with the process. get excited about falling into those same patterns & routines & aligning with your higher, desired reality self. become her. expect what she expects.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ find the beauty in life.

if you shift, you shift. if you don’t, you don’t. im not saying that you cannot care but be okay with waking up where you fell asleep. don’t put all your eggs in one basket & care about life here. why don’t you care about yourself here but worship your dr self ? it’s still you. it’s still your life. both are you. what’s the difference between the two of you ? nothing because your dr self is you. give yourself room for error & don’t beat yourself up over it. learn how to speak kindly to yourself. go outside on a walk & pick out three beautiful things in nature.

♡ balance.

find balance in life. create a healthy mindset & positive patterns. there is no need to obsess over shifting because everything will work out for you in the end. if you truly believe you will shift one day, then there’s no need to stress because you know the outcome already. you don’t need to think about how you get from a to b. what you need to think about is your worldview & how your thoughts & system of beliefs shape you & ask yourself “are they serving me”? you have time in this reality , how can you not be miserable ? how can you make life here more enjoyable ?

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ cutting out things that don’t serve you.

somethings demotivating ? block or mute it. don’t like a method you’ve tried ? you aren’t tied to it. how about a piece of 2020 shiftok advice ? why are you letting someone’s expense have such a chokehold on you. just because it helped them at the time doesn’t mean it will help you. everyone learns differently.

there is no reason to be torturing yourself & putting your valuable time into holding onto things that don’t help you. there is no reason you should be so hellbent on shifting being this & not that. who cares what other people think shifting is ? all that matters is what you believe in to be because it benefits you. fighting someone in a comment section benefits nobody. stop disturbing other people’s journeys & putting unnecessary strain on the community. we all believe in shifting. we all should be supportive of each other, no matter what they believe shifting to be. you could be learning a lot from one another. knowledge is power. learn to appreciate other perspectives & outlooks & their insight. don’t be so quick to dismiss.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ get excited.

start watching new shows so you can find new places to shift to. make playlists based on your dr. make scripts. make those paper mâché wands people made in 2020 if you’re shifting to harry potter. you’re allowed to get excited. you’re allowed to make it new & fun again. you can make a change for the better anytime. it’s never to late to start over & if restarting your journey from square one will help you then do it. literally adapt the mindset that this is the first time you’ve ever seen shifting on your feed right now. if this was the first video or post you’ve seen in shifting , how would that have shaped your perception of it ?

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

[tehnakki]

Had to have another frustrating convo with a white guy who started his introduction at a sex party I was hosting with "i'm lonely/recently divorced/widowed and haven't had sex in a couple years" and then afterwards reached out to me that he had a good time but couldn't figure out how to initiate anything more than surface level conversations with people.

This is like a regular trope of straight white dudes in a bunch of the sex communities I'm in and I just want to take them all and shake the fuck out of them and scream in their faces "YOU GET BACK THE ENERGY YOU BRING TO AN INTERACTION"

You come in with your mopey ass vibes and then wonder why no one thinks your sexy???? You started the interaction off with "hi, i'm pathetic and sad". Of course that is a vibe killer for almost everyone! Also, you didn't ask for sex! You said that you haven't had sex in a while, which implies that you either don't want to have sex or you don't know how to ask for what you want, both boner-killers.

We give explicit instructions during opening circle to ask for one specific thing you want and these dummies never do. They just say what they don't have and then are surprised that it hasn't changed by the end of the night. And I always model it by going first.

(read more for those who don't want to know what gets me off lol)

"Hey, I'm Nakki, they/them pronouns. I'm a pain slut and always open for pain play with new people. Tonight I would like to be fisted." And guess what, I got fisted by 3 different people, and caned/whipped by 4 others. Super fucking easy.

Thankful one of my cohost is a older cis white man and he has infinite patience for talking these dudes through how to behave like a normal human being at a sex party. So if they reach out to me I give them a quick read of their intro and why it didn't encourage me to ask them to play, and then pass them over to my cohost to have the manly heart to heart about actually listening to what people are saying and asking for what you want.

And over time some of them do get better at interacting and participating. I had one older divorcee guy who was beyond awkward at 4 or 5 parties last year and then showed up a couple weeks ago at one and just said his name and pronouns at opening circle (which impressed me, because normal he mentions he was divorced, and had misgendered me a couple times before) and came up to me immediately afterwards and said, "I've been learning electroplay because you mentioned it last year. I've been practicing it on myself and others and I'm really good at it now. Can I hurt you sometime tonight?" Apparently I got so wet so fast that my top (who had her hand between my legs) started cackling uncontrollably.

Anyways, that guy now has my full consent to choke me on his cock while he electrocutes the shit out of me whenever he wants. And he also has a bunch of regular play partners out of the group because people saw me losing my mind and wanted to take him for a spin as well.

Bring your sexy vibes and you will get sexy back. Bring your sad vibes and you will get sad vibes back. It is so easy. Stop making sex awkward.

[talekinesis]

Separated

Gravity Falls Timestuck AU fic

Summary: The Twins are sent back in time but not together

[Part 1] | [Part 2]

"WHERE DID THEY GO!?"

Stan was frantic. He had checked the whole house. Every room, every closet, every secret room, even under the couch cushions, desperate to find something.

"Why does something weird always happen with you around!?" He glared at his brother, who was pacing back and forth in the livingroom.

"First of all, you are the one who wanted me back so badly, Stanley, so stop acting like I just came in and intruded. Secondly, Dipper rolled the Infinity sided die so-"

"So you know what happened??" Stan looked at him, his eyes desperate, pleading that they could undo this.

Stanford sighed and took his glasses off to clean them on his shirt, an old anxious habit he's had since childhood. "That's the thing. Infinity Sided Die, infinite possibilities... We can only hope that wherever they are, they're safe."

-

Mabel found herself lying on the cold, hard ground. She groaned and sat up, dizzy and rubbing her head. Looking around, she realized she was outside and it was... winter.

It had just been summer, she had just been sitting with her Grunkle Stan watching Ducktective. She had just been making fun of Dipper and his nerd game.. Where was she now, what happened?

Suddenly blinded by two bright lights, she cried out and covered her eyes, stumbling and falling back into the cold, slushy snow. Tires screeched to a halt and suddenly some guy was yelling at her to get out of the road, but the child was so scared and overwhelmed that she just froze.

A car door slammed shut, and she barely registered the man getting out an approaching her.

"What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of the road during a blizzard, kid!? Go home!"

Her eyes snapped open and she uncovered her eyes. She knew that voice. "Grunkle Stan?"

The man before her definitely looked like him. Though, he was a lot younger, and a lot less put together.. which was saying something.

He stepped back. "How do you kind of know my name? Did Ricardo put you up to this? Is this a set up!?" He frantically looked around, looking like he was about to jump back into the car and leave.

"Wait, wait! Please don't leave me!" Mabel was surprised at her own voice, sounding strained. She hadn't even realized she was crying already. She sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

"My name is Mabel Pines, I'm your grand-niece from the future."

The younger mullet version of her uncle scoffed and got back in the car. "Look, I know I'm not the smartest guy in the world, but I'm not that much of a sucker. Whoever put you up to this needs to learn how to scam people." He started the engine, causing Mabel to panic and grab the handle of his car door to prevent him from leaving.

"Please, please, I'm Sherman's granddaughter! Please believe me, I can prove it!"

This got Stan to pause. How did she know about Shermie? He narrowed his eyes and cranked the window down more so he could hear her better. "You got one minute before I drive away."

She had to wipe her eyes again and cough to clear her throat. "I'm from 2012, and in the future you're my great-uncle.. My brother and I traveled from California to Oregon to spend the summer with you-"

"Why the hell would I be living in Oregon? I know I'm traveling there now, but why would I stay-"

"Listen, Stan!" She snapped, not having the patience or the right state of mind to explain everything, "You're Stanley Pines, your twin brother is Stanford, and you have an older brother named Sherman. Sherman currently has a son named Matthew that your parents are helping raise-"

"How do you-"

"Because Matthew grows up and he's my dad! I know you're going to Oregon because Ford sent you a postcard asking you to meet him in Gravity Falls!"

Stan looked like he had seen a ghost. But these were all details she could have learned if someone was following him. "Tell me one thing I've never told anyone else before. Something only someone in my family would know."

Mabel rested her forehead against the car door, shivering violently. She was dressed for the summer, but now she was soaking wet in the middle of winter. She took in a shakey breath, thinking back to when her Stan was telling his life story.

"Y-You and Stanford had a boat.. The Stan-o-War. You were gonna sail the world together, but-"

She was cut off by Stan opening the door and pulling her inside, setting her in the passenger seat. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white, and he was breathing hard, on the verge of something close to a panic attack. He felt like he was going to be sick.. Because he believed her. He hadn't told anyone that.

Mabel was curled up in the passenger seat, shivering. She felt better now that she was in a car with the heat on, but she was still cold. She didn't even look up when she herd the sound of a zipper, or when she felt him put his jacket around her.

"Okay.." He started, "So.. If what you're saying is true.. How did you get from 2012 Oregon to 1985 Utah?"

Her eyes widened and she sat up. "I'm in Utah!?"

"Okay so apparently you don't even know.." He sighed and started to drive. "Well, you're coming to Oregon with me. I can't leave a freezing wet child from the future alone in the snow. That good with you?"

Mabel nodded and buckled her seat belt. She pulled the jacket tighter around herself as the weight of everything finally set in. She was in 1985, in Utah. She didn't have the time measuring tape, she didn't have the journal, she didn't even have Dipper.

Dipper would have a plan of some sort, right? Where even was he? Was he still in 2012, or was he stuck in the past too?

-

Dipper pushed himself off the ground, the snow soaking his T-shirt and shorts. He shivered and breathed into his hands, looking around. Through the blizzard, he could barely make out the outline of the shack, so he started to run as fast as he could for it.

Once his sneakers hit the wooden steps he frantically pounded on the door. "S-Stan? Let me in, it's Dip-"

Before he even knew it, he was face to face with a crossbow.

"Who's there!? Have you come to steal my eyes!?"

The boy's heart stopped and he looked up at his grunkle.. or.. who his grunkle used to be?

He was staring at a younger, messier version of Ford, who looked exhausted and insane. It was scary actually. Seeing this man he was so familiar and comfortable with, but it was like looking into the eyes of a stranger. A version of his uncle who didn't even know who he was..

"N-No, I uh.. I'm Dipper-"

"I don't want any girlscout cookies. Leave." Then the door was slammed shut, and he heard at least three or four locks click shut.

Dipper knocked again, but the curtains were pulled shut.

"Darn Ford, why were you such a paranoid freak.." He muttered under his breath. Luckily he had lived here for an entire summer, so he knew how to get in. The real question was if he'd survive breaking into the house of a man with a crossbow who was more than willing to aim it at a child.

He ran around to the side of the house and to the cellar doors, starting to slam his body against them, hoping that the cold would have weakened the lock a little bit. He continued to ram his body again and again against the doors-

"What are you doing now? Stop that!"

Dipper was picked up by the back of his vest like a kitten, causing his journal to slip out. Ford picked it up and stared at it for a moment.

Without a second thought, he carried Dipper inside and shut the door. "So who are you, boy? A demon? Shapeshifter? Do you work for Bill? How did you get my journal!?"

Dipper was tossed down, grunting as he hit the floor. He turned onto his back and put his hands out as if to protect himself from the crazed man before him.

"N-No, I'm your nephew!"

"Nice try, Demon, my nephew is in New Jersey.. Though you do have a pretty convincing vessel of what he might look like."

"Your great-nephew! From the future! That journal is a future version of yours, if you don't believe me, go look!"

Ford paused. He looked down at the book in his hands. It did look faded and worn. The pages were yellowed and it looked all beaten up. He knew his was still in the basement, locked up.

"Did you say future? As in time-travel?"

Dipper let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Yes.. I'm Sherman's grandson.. My dad is Matthew Pines.. You were.. Surpisingly quick to believe me, I thought I'd have to like.. convince you more."

Ford helped him up, but kept the journal. "You think I haven't had my own run-in with the time police? Besides, we're in Gravity Falls, weird things happen. But just to be sure.. I'd like to ask some questions."

Dipper nodded, shivering again. The adrenaline had worn off, and he was feeling the effects of the blizzard once more. Luckily for him, Ford picked up on this and lead him into the livingroom, sitting him down in front of the fireplace.

"Right.. So.. How did you aquire this journal?" He asked.

"It was in this secret compartment out in the woods? My sister and I traveled to Oregon to spend the summer with Stan-"

"Wait, Stan? Why is Stan living in my house in the future? I called him here to make him leave."

Dipper's eyes widened and he anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, I don't think it's a good idea to tell you too much about the future.. Like, there are certain things that happen, and need to happen in order for my present to remain the same.. If I tell you what happens, you could change it.. And if I manage to get back to 2012, and my life is completely different, it'll traumatize me and my sister.. Probably her more than me with how close she and Stan are. I can't do that to her."

Ford nodded and sat back. "That.. makes sense.. But do I tell you about my past at all? Things only I would know?"

The boy nodded. "Yes! You grew up in New Jersey, uh you and Stan had a boat... The.. man-o-war?"

"The Stan-o-War, yes.. Okay.. So you are my great nephew.. How did you get here from 2012?"

Dipper took his vest and hat off to let them dry, getting to work on his shoes as well. "You and I were playing Dungens, Dungens, and More Dungens, and I.. Well you have like this magical infinity sided die-"

"That's impossible."

"It is and it's not. I can't tell you how you get it, it would spoil the future, but when it's rolled, anything could happen. Our faces could melt into jelly, the world could turn into an egg.. Or I could get stuck in the past."

Ford listened, interested. He raised a brow. "If you knew the dangers of the die, then why did you roll it?"

Dipper groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I grabbed it by accident." He glared up at his uncle. "You're not very good at keeping dangerous items in secure places by the way, that's the one thing I will tell you. You kept that die in the same bag as the rest of our normal dice. Who even does that??"

Ford waved him off, mostly because he was unable to defend something he hadn't even done yet. "The real question is how we're going to get you back home.. Any ideas?"

Dipper thought for a moment before he perked up. "The Time Police! My presence here could alert the Time Anomaly Removal Crew and they could come and take me and Mab-.. oh.."

"What's wrong?" Ford could see the kid practically deflate, looking down at his feet.

"Well..I don't know where my sister, Mabel, is. When I rolled the die, it brought me back here, but I heard her yell too, so.. Maybe it also did something to her? But I was alone when I woke up outside, I don't know what happened to her, or if anything even did happen to her.. I feel so helpless not knowing where she is.." He hugged his knees.

"What if I get returned home but she's stuck here alone? We've never really been apart before, if she's out there in this blizzard somewhere, I don't even know what she'd do."

Ford frowned. The idea of a little girl being trapped in an unfamiliar year, by herself, in a blizzard was scary in itself, but it worried him more that she apparently would end up being his niece. But this kid was right, they had no idea where or when she was, so there wasn't much they could do about it.

He looked at the boy in front of him, who had stopped shivering, his clothes already drying from the fire. He rubbed the back of his neck. He had never been good with kids. Not even his own nephew. He nearly dropped Matthew when he first held him, and had to be reminded twice by his mother to support the head. Surprisingly, it was Stan who was better with kids. He handled Matthew perfectly the first time.

"Look, Ripper-"

"Dipper."

"Dipper.. You're right, we don't know where your sister is. She could be home in 2012, or she could be somewhere alone in the blizzard, freezing to death-"

"Is this supposed to help me feel better?" Dipper looked up at him, even more distressed.

"No, no- I mean yes, but.. Listen. Let's focus on what we can take care of now. Right now, I have a boy in my house who needs a place to sleep and probably food to eat."

Dipper looked back down at his feet. "I'm not really hungry.. But thanks.. I think I just want to go to bed.." in his own bed, in 2012, in the room he shared with his sister, but he didn't say that part out loud.

Ford nodded and stood up. "Follow me, you can stay in my room. I usually sleep in the lab anyway."

The boy got up and followed him, leaving his vest, hat, and shoes next to the fire, too mentally and emotionally exhausted to really care. He followed him up the stairs and into the 'secret' room he and Mabel fought over that one time. It was odd seeing it full of stuff with a desk and a bed.

"You.. don't mind me sleeping in here?" He asked, stepping in a bit more. The bed looked like it hadn't been slept in in a while. He yelped a little as Ford picked him up and set him on top of it, pulling the covers back.

"No, I don't mind. You clearly need it more than I do right now, and like I said, I usually sleep in the basement." He pulled the covers over him, and shut the lights off. "You get some sleep, Zipper. I have to go check all the locks at least three times each." With that, he left the room and shut the door.

"Dipper.." the kid muttered to himself.

He turned onto his side and looked out the window, the snow illuminated by the moon. He hoped wherever Mabel was, she was okay.

[ghostherlig]

guys if i said i was thinking a little too hard abt shang tsung going through Liu Kang's Rehabilitation Program and basically fucking Couch Surfing at the different earthrealm champions places and him learning different aspects of "being a better person" or whatever from them (he'd still be mischievous and evil but just like.. for fun??) what then?? like how are we feelin abt that???

like shang tsung staying with raiden and his eye twitches every fifteen seconds bc raiden responds to him with Everlasting Infinite Patience and all he wants is a reaction- but that's how he learns acceptance and that he cant control people-

shang then staying with lao and learning why raiden has all that patience 💀 but also him learning how to depend on himself by watching lao take on everything himself

shang staying with johnny and learning that it's okay to relax sometimes- johnny helping him take up a hobby and teaching him abt earthrealm and technology and things- shang leaves that mansion with a skin care routine for SURE-

shang tsung finally taking a trip to stay with kenshi and he learns discipline but also gets to learn how to have fun. kenshi who takes him out for a night after he knows shang will either listen to him or at the very least can trust him not to run off or cause trouble he cant get himself out of-

and then shang returning to liu kang and the fire temple and liu getting to see that shang is better, yes, but also so so so much Worse bc he a culmination of all of his champions now- not only is he still the same egotistical, ruthless, forever curious and adaptive self with his cunning and genius, but now he has raiden's Evil Patience, lao's Self-Reliance, johnny's Diva attitude abt self-care, and kenshi's Kind of Cruel Sense of Humor and Discipline 💀

even better if shang also spends time with a reformed Bi Han and the new lin kuei as well as maybe even the shirai ryu with kuai and tomas- shang coming back from the lin kuei with a ruthless-er outlook and leaving the shirai ryu with less of a temper and maybe even better negotiating skills-

like just... augh, im thinking SO HARD-

[matchagyudon]

Pomp and Gallantry - Jakurai Jinguji English Lyrics Translation

Now, do you understand what karma is? The glory and errors of my past days have been piling up Was I trapped because I wanted to be at ease?

Remorse, my guilty conscience, and self-sacrifice This is the conclusion to taking the easy way out The challenges that have been lying about are still untouched

In this Labryinth Wall Time or patience, are they no longer necessary? Is it easy to break free from here? Are you saying that life itself has no pain?

Is our answer, even now, that suffering in agony is inevitable? Is it said that we humans have ended conflict? So then, what in the world have we learned from history?

Life is a game, this embellishment is a joke Just when you think that you can’t take it anymore, The true scenario of your fate can be rewritten Strike out your languidness, and remove the overbearing shackles With my mic and charts, all that’s left is the love in my heart It’s not that those who believe are saved, But rather whether you can keep believing until you are saved

Inside of strength is tenderness, and within tenderness you can find strength The taste of defeat, like biting on sand, is now the spice of life

With these hands, certainly, with these hands I will wake them up This country’s heart is coming to an end And the only power that can revive it Would be love That is the only way we can wake them up With pomp and circumstance, today, we will be gallant too

The commotion of Shinjuku, noises mingling together Dissonance reverberating within the spiral of reincarnation This city is still in deep turmoil Whispering sweet temptations, fleeting pleasures

Like a weed hidden in a back alley, this flower is nameless, yet noble It sways gently in the breeze today, once more There is no other flower as strong as concrete

It was sudden, my heart became soaked The shock hit me like lightning “Obligation and self-awareness”, I was prepared for those two words From tragedy to comedy, the reasoning is reversed

To live, in itself, is love Life isn’t about winning or losing It’s about everything Now is the time to accept one another’s differences Why don’t we accept each other? Or to love each other?

Let’s return, once more, to the beginning Be rid of any doubt’s on the meaning of Life Life and soul, the contrast of finite and infinite The land that rises with its bestowed role

The voices that cry out as we plunged into the battlefield Even if my throat were to be slit, I will keep shouting For the happiness of myself and others, my altruistic heart keeps going on The timbre of world peace now sounds nostalgic Let it ring out

From this one microphone, this song will connect once again I am not offering words such as ostentation, vanity, or greed But my very life in itself, I am selling piece by piece Relish yourself to your heart’s content on my flesh and body

The contradictions and absurdity of our murky, chaotic society Drink it all in one gulp This is the essence of the power of words, true vitality, meaning and significance of life, To be inherited with abundance and triumph

There’s no need to be frightened or worry anymore If you have already put together that death is certain That even then you cannot escape the 7 Deadly Sins Calmly hold it close, just as you are, all your worries The future is waiting for us to complete our unfinished work Lying in wait, clearing their throats Eagerly waiting for as long as it takes

We will set a firm foundation for the new century to come When that time comes, we shall make a sound that will shake the heavens and the earth The land will split and crawling out of it will be song and dance The voice that we shouted at the moon, and felt as if it were in vain Will reach the moon in 32 days Devote yourself to the one before your eyes From the bottom of one’s heart to another, the seed of peace Together, slowly, one step at a time, we will move forward

We are all God’s creatures!

From now on, let us all entrust our lives to another, together!

[inbabylontheywept]

The Price

Mithrain’s hands were thick boned and knotted with scars. Unfit tools for anything delicate. Yet they were all he had, so he traded patience for true dexterity. Where humans had skill and elves had grace, dwarves had time.

His fingers carefully tugged the knotted fabrics apart. Blanket by blanket, twist by twist, the bundle came undone until, at last, an infant lay on the war table.

It was human. Unmistakably so – round ears peeked through a halo of blonde hair. It reached forward with tiny hands and wrapped all ten of its fingers around the dwarves' thumb. Both its index fingers still lingered a full inch from meeting. Mithrain looked down at it with true warmth. Then he looked back up at the elves and gave a command.

“Kill it.”

No one at the table moved. The circle of elves looked from the child, to him, then back. To their credit, the tension was more borne of  confusion than moral wavering. They knew they would not do it. They did not know why they were being asked.

Solathan the Elder spoke first.

“No,” he replied.

Mithrain nodded. The refusal was not merely hoped for, it had been expected.

“This is why you will not win.”

The table sat in contemplative silence. Solathan, bravest amongst the elves, most forward, most dwarf, spoke again.

“Because we will not murder infants?”

“Because this infant is the son of Agamedes. He is the last king of the Hinterlands. Humans grow old quickly – in twenty five years he will be a man, and he will start a war just like the one you are fighting today. A war suspiciously similar to the one you fought twenty-five years ago.”

The words were calm, but he watched the generals hands closely. Even a twitch towards a belt knife would be enough to betray temptation. Yet, each hand remained perfectly still.

There was a short pulse of shame in him. Envy. When he’d had this conversation with his own war council all those centuries ago, there had been several who’d considered it. Who had considered the price of such self-degredation.

“You will not win. You could. But you see the cost now, and you know it is too high. You want to honor your treaties, your duties, your integrity, but you know the word for that which lacks soul but keeps contracts. You’ve fought them with me, in the deepest, darkest depths of the stone.” 

Solathan had gone white. He knew. He’d been so focused on winning this war that he’d failed to look ahead to the next. And the next. And the next. The cycle stood out to him, infinite and spiraling. He froze at the thought of walking down into that abyss.

“I could raise it. Him. I could try and break the cycle. I-“

“He will learn from another human. Another infant that grows to manhood. He will learn, and he will burn your house and throne. Do you think I am so wise, as to see the future without having lived the past? Whatever cleverness you will suggest, I have tried. I fought ten generations of warriors on the same field before I realized I had three options. To burn my soul, to trap myself in endless war, or to lose. So I lost.”

His voice cracked on the last three words. The infant had begun to fuss over the cold, and he went to work swaddling it again. He’d made his point - now it was time to take the princling home. But as his hands made their slow work, he gave his final warning. 

“You did not know when you started this. And you would not have listened if I had told you. But you know now. And if I meet you in those darkest depths, I will know what sent you there. The only pity you will find from me after that is a second death."

He finished his work in silence, leaving as he came. The quiet lasted long after. 

[mutsukiss]

Reading the first book is actually insightful on the last episode because without it the whole "you're so boring!!!!" rant comes very out of the blue. In the show Louis is SUPER tame about himself as a vampire and vampires in general because he reduces himself to this weird self flagellation cycle of "oooh I'm so bad and evil I kill people how will I ever live with myself *becomes a serial killer*" and he doesn't have much,, care? Love? Appreciation? For himself and his life. He's just stumbling around and being a victim of the narrative. Things happen to him and sometimes he's an active participant, and that's it.

In the book Louis is SO eager to go and learn to be a vampire and do vampire things and explore what being a vampire is. He makes references constantly about how his first experiences were rushed and messy and got him this extreme high he searches for everywhere, and is immensely frustrated because Lestat is instead reduced to someone who is solely focused on his own damaging cycle and has no desire to enjoy the trip, just to chase the high. Show!Louis engages in hobbies and has his own opinions and boundaries and makes them know but he also doesn't ask or suggest or even demand a lot of times, specially/specifically with Armand. He says "this is how I'm going to go through this thing, you are free to take it or not but I'm not following after if you decide to not agree" and it puts people in a position. He's paradoxically giving others the freedom to follow their own rules, but by creating a punishing situation. Don't come to see me if you want me to join the coven, we don't need to put a name to our relationship, ignore that I imagine Lestat when I'm with you. These are mostly understandable requests knowing his background and context that still put Armand in a difficult position and he's not really given any wiggle room around them. Armand attempts to get into Louis' world and enter him in Armand's, but Louis isn't really interested in anything outside of what he finds comfortable or familiar and doesn't have a lot of drive to go and pursue new things about him nor others around him unless he's accompanied or pushed by another character, the being exception the interview in the present.

The overzealous, identity-missing, heartstruck Armand; in all of his own manipulative and calculating skills and habits, agrees to Louis roaming around to cruise and drug, fuck, kill and get high from 128 !! persons in the 70's only, cleaning after him, and we are given the image that he has never complained about this ever, not ONCE. We see Armand giving in to whatever Louis says, having kind gestures to him, spending time with him, having what I believe is infinite patience. I dont think these are difficult or unpleasant tasks for him, i dont think they are tasks at all. He is courting and ¿dating? someone and these interactions are obviously pleasurable to him. Armand says if Louis wanted for him to go away he just had to ask, and even after we are made aware of him tampering with Louis' and Daniel's memories, i believe that had Louis asked him that he would have complied. So WHAT is Louis looking for that he couldn't ask Armand for and have him agree to. If what he is expecting or wanting is resistance, HOW does that make Armand boring. How can Armand refuse Louis when that implies a complete negative, a total refusal of future positive interactions. What more was there for Armand to do in that situation?

Ultimately I think Louis is coping as best as he can and he has realized he is resorting to harmful behaviors and attempting to recreate past toxic dynamics, and that it won't make him happy because it didn't make him happy in the past, but that he is equally unhappy now even when things are supposed to be "fine", whatever his defintion of fine is. And this is something that would have been incredibly more clear if Show!Louis had been given Book!Louis' wanderlust and eagerness to learn and do new things, because with that in context, the conversation in the flat makes complete sense to me, even if it's still unfair for both parties, but it's something that may feel so sudden and out of the blue for show only viewers.