#will be honest here i really do not see much point in sticking around. i hurt my family i dont have anything but the most tenuous and

[dollypopup]

honestly, I think the reason the last few episodes of S3 made me so upset as a Polin fan was that they didn't wrap up any growth from Pen or from Colin in regards to their character flaws to have them gel as a cohesive unit. They still felt very much. . .alone, to me, in those last few episodes. Here are two people who really are soulmates on main, able and willing to help the other become a better person, and I don't feel that the season delivered in that regard. now I'm open to this discussion, but I feel like part 2 really lost the plot in regards to romance because they didn't have a solid grasp on 1: who the characters are, and 2: what the appeal of them as a couple IS

colin's flaws in the show are not the same as his flaws in the book, but they almost treated him like they were. where in the book, his main flaws are his temper and being a flake, in the show, Colin doesn't really get angry. Not in the way his book counterpart does. And Colin is not flakey, either. If anything, he runs heartfirst into his problems. And other people's. His travels aren't necessarily an escape: they're to complete his education. Now, Colin DOES look for escape, but in other ways: drink, drugs, rotting in bed (god, what a relatable king), but his travels? I don't see that. Yeah, he needed distance after S1 to heal over heartbreak, but that's not the primary goal. And the second go around, he's not running away from anything, either.

In fact, everything about Colin points to the fact that he's the opposite from his book counterpart in this sense. Please keep in mind- he is ONLY 22. He essentially did the regency equivalent of getting a bachelor's degree after two years of study abroad and then got married to his childhood best friend right whilst he published his thesis (the travel logs). Unlike in the books, PEN is the one who runs away. She offers up annulment (that Colin refuses), she resigns to paying off Cressida (whilst he goes to talk to her), she literally races off to her carriage to cry and go home (and he chases after her). Colin does NOT have the character flaw of flaking out, which means him sticking around, staying through everything, is not symptomatic of his character growth, but just an inherit character trait of his.

No, Colin was never looking for escape. And he wasn't even necessarily looking for MEANING.

He was always, from the first moment we met him, looking for himself.

Colin's main character flaw in the show is his confusion and insecurity of self. Not only in his arc of trying to parse out what it means to be a man of his society, fighting against and trying to meet gender expectations, trying to be someone others listen to and care about, but also his general selflessness. Colin does everything with very little regard for his own well-being. Colin doesn't care about being humiliated or looking like a fool, he runs after Penelope regardless. Multiple times. Colin refuses her annulment yes because he loves her and wants to stay, but also because he cannot leave her to her lonesome, even if he goes down with her. Even with Marina, Colin would have married her if she was honest, his own happiness not even a consideration. His own feelings, his own emotions, come secondary. Thus is the plight of the chronic people pleaser.

And at the end of the show, he doesn't crack through that. Even when, arguably, Penelope is the best person to help him do so. Not only because Penelope is in the habit of putting herself first (which, frankly, she should be doing and I applaud her for. When she's asked who Whistledown was meant to protect and she answered 'Me', I think that was the most honest she'd ever been, and probably when I respected her the most), but also because she has had the buildup in Polin of being the stable one. The one who fell first. The one who doodled love notes in her diary and had stars in her eyes whenever she talked to him. What's that one quote? Someone who thinks they're hard to love being with someone who loves them like breathing? If there's ANYONE who could convince Colin to consider himself more, it's Penelope 'What of him? What of Colin?' Featherington.

But then. . .she doesn't. And so he doesn't. The last speech is that he is happy to stand off to the side and soak up a bit of her light.

Which, let's not parse words here, Chat, he has BEEN doing. Colin is not an arrogant character who takes up all the spotlight. He has ALWAYS existed on the outskirts. By the end of the season, he continues to.

Which takes us then to Penelope, who also ends very similarly to how she began. Penelope's main flaw is not that she considers herself above or before others (again, I think putting herself first is, ultimately, good!), but rather that she does not trust anyone to help her. As someone who has learned to be hyper-independent, mostly as a trauma response, I understand her. But I still think it was the wrong move not to challenge that.

Half the appeal of a partnership is that you can lean on someone else. That you no longer have to do things all by your lonesome. That someone is there to confide in, to support, to take some of that weight, to depend on. Colin is the PERFECT person for Penelope to learn to lean on others with. She does not do so with Eloise. She does not do so with her family. But Penelope in the previous seasons LIKED that Colin would do things for her. She LIKED that she didn't have to do things all on her own. That Colin would defend her, or think of her. Compliment her and support her and ask her questions and encourage her to open up. That he went to bat for her with Jack. That he wrote her letters. Colin made Penelope feel special because the way he loved her made her feel SEEN. His love helped to soften her. There is something so unyielding sweet in the knowledge that this woman who has clawed her way to notoriety and safety and freedom was all but skipping down her hallway in girlish glee after he danced with her. I LIKED that. I LIKE the fact that she can find ease with him. That she doesn't HAVE TO be strong.

But then in S3, they decided to lean even more into her hyperindependence, to the point where I am ASTONISHED it didn't shoot her further in the foot. Penelope informs the Queen she's LW alone (which was HER choice), Penelope sleeps alone in her marriage bed and doesn't reach out to him, Penelope makes all the big decisions alone, Penelope tells Colin she does not need him to do anything for her.

Yeah yeah, 'he feels like he needs to do things to earn love and she's telling him he's enough just as who he is'- but part of who Colin is IS being useful. He LIKES doing things for others. He LIKES feeling accomplished because he assisted someone.

Doesn't. . .everyone? Is that not a hallmark of a caring person? And isn't a sign of vulnerability, you know, that thing we NEED if we're going to have a relationship with someone. . .letting them? Letting them love us? Letting them care for us?

There are a lot of things I think S3 did well, but the main problem for me will always be that the core of Polin as a unit was missing. The appeal was ALWAYS about 'these two people are perfect for each other because they're so alike but they also CHALLENGE one another'. Who better to challenge Penelope's hyper-independence than Colin? Colin who looks out for her, Colin who loves to uplift her, Colin who wants to love openly and loudly? And who better to challenge Colin's self-disregard than Penelope? Penelope who considered him when no one else would, Penelope who wrote him more letters than anyone else, Penelope who listens?

Instead, the version of them we got in S3 landed so. . .flat, to me. Yeah, the 'and everyone clapped' ending was ick. Yeah, the editing was sloppy and Benedict's never ending threesome felt like I was in purgatory being punished for some sin or another. But at the end of the day, the thing I wanted, and that would make the two of them really shine as a couple, was seeing Pen and Colin become POLIN. Better because they're together. A team.

They never really became one, imo. And that's infuriating because the opportunity for it was RIGHT THERE. Polin is a golden opportunity couple. Guaranteed happy ever after, complex characters, multiple seasons to build them up, actors who have off the charts chemistry with each other. They had hours on hours to give us Polin working together toward a common goal. And then. . .didn't?

The character growth wasn't linear. It didn't have to be, of course, but it wasn't in an upward trajectory at the end, and it certainly wasn't a circle, either. It was an ouroboros, eating it's own tail. I will never forgive the writers for that.

[igglemouse]

Week 2 ~ Blood Simoleons (2.4) ~ Monday

It's apparently Gnome day or something and so I will do my best to just ignore it and carry on with my day, or rather, begin my day. These things are tiny, usually bearded, and always frozen in one pose or another. No one knows where they come from or how they get into your home and I honestly think no one wants to find out. I will not let them hijack my day so if you do not mind I'll be ignoring them.

Today's breakfast, pancakes! Extra fluffy as well because...well, why not? It is a big day as there is another audition ahead of me, a really important one, but aren't they all at this point? Every opportunity could be the one, my breakout moment, and each victory is just another bullet point to my growing resume. Day by day I am making my mark on this town

After breakfast I take a break with a little gaming. It just gives my mind a chance to wander without having to think about auditions, lines, and the pressure that comes with them. I should point out that I'm pretty terrible at games. Like even easy mode feels impossible to me but I am having fun all the same and that is what matters?

See! Little Bruno is also unsettled by these gnomes, I catch him howling at one that appeared in my bedroom and I couldn't help but feel for the little guy. There's really little I can do. Oh, I could try moving them but why touch them at all? They are kind of creepy, to be honest.

Later, Papa calls with one of his usual check-ins. He asks about my week and I let him know that he will be seeing me on screen soon. He's excited to hear that but I must tamper his expectations and let him know that it's really just a couple of commercials, blink and you might miss them. He's proud all the same because of course he is, I can always count on his support.

One upside to acting is the flexible schedule. It's not your usual 9 to 5. Some days are hectic, sure, but others are wide open and give me nothing but time. With that time I wander the city a little but you could guess that I would end up at Starlight Boulevard and before the Walk of Stars.

I stop before a blank star and I can see it now. My name carved there for all of time. It oculd be this one or one over there or there or really anywhere, this walk will find space for Magdalena.

A quiet little command echoes through my mind: Be Memorable.

I wanted to go home after that, go over my lines and prepare for my audition, but a stranger catches my eye at the nearby park. Confident, that's what he oozed, and he was watching me in that bold way, posture alone bringing me closer to him step by step. I should mention that he wore a cowboy hat and boots along with it.

"Haven't seen you around and I'm out here every day," he speaks in a lazy but smooth tone. His sunglasses hide his eyes but I know he's checking me out.

"Magdalena," I say offering him a smile. "You can call me Mags or Lena, either one works."

"I'm not a big fan of nicknames so let's stick with Magdalena."

We sit and talk a while. I'm curious about him, he's got a flashy look, too much jewelry and all of it screams 'Look at me' and again, those cowboy boots don't fit a casual city park. Normally, I'd avoid a man like this, looks like the kind of guy that my sister Carina would be all over, shady guys that talk big and carry trouble around them like it their wallet...and yet I'm still curious.

Eventually, I learn that he's a music producer and he uses that to explain his style.

"It's just packaging," he says with a little laugh. "Gotta sell the image before you can sell the sound."

I exhale, just a little bit because I was worried that he was a drug dealer or something worse. "Oh, a musician? What genre?"

"I just produce, so no genre, don't want to limit myself. I put my music out there and hope that someone finds use for it."

"Ahh, behind the scenes then?"

He nods, "Yep, behind the scenes, I don't dig the spotlight too much, I just have passion for the music and want to create something real."

"I see," and now I go from intrigued to interested. Marco was fire and desire, pure impulse and instinct. Aaron, yes, that is his name, is something else. Grounded. He's just starting his career, dreaming dreams that are similar to mines I am sure, and he feels more my equal than Marco does.

"You uh, an actress, yeah?" he asks.

For some reason I laugh, partly because I am enjoying the conversation and partly because it seems silly to say with my little commercial roles. "Yeah, I'm trying at least! I do have a pretty big audition later today and so I can't stay and talk for too long."

"Yeah, no worries, can I have your phone-"

"Of course! See you around!"

Back at home and Bruno greets me as if i've been gone for years. Tail wagging and he's bouncing with joy. He's so sweet! I hate that I can't stay for long so I feed his food bowl and grab a plate of brownies because its all I can have before going out again and I can't even afford much because the bills leave me with only 120 simoleons...

But I'm not going to panic because I have an audition to crush! Wish me luck!

Index ~ Elsewhere...

[obsessedwithceleste]

Til It’s Gone

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this cute lil request 🤗

Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)

word count: 3.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.

“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.

Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.

“Theo.”

“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.

Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.

The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.

“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”

“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.

Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.

“Theo?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.

He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.

“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.

Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.

“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”

The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.

“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.

They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.

The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.

“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.

Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.

“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”

“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.

Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.

“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into a bloody ray of sunshine” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.

“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.

“It’s Theo.”

“That’s what I said.”

You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.

Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.

It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.

You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.

Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.

That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.

The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.

“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.

The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.

Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.

“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.

Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.

“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.

“Oh fuck off you two.”

Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.

“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”

“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”

“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”

“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”

With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.

Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.

For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as someone who had a silly crush on him.

It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.

Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.

And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.

It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.

It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.

“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.

Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.

It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.

The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.

“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.

“Theodore?”

Theo glares at the use of the name.

“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.

With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.

“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.

“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to them.”

"I thought we didn't like them?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.

"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."

Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.

As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.

It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.

But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.

Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.

“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when they see the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” they tell you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”

A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.

“Just a special friend,” you reply.

After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.

Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.

After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.

There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.

Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.

You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.

“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.

With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.

With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.

“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.

You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.

“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.

“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.

To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.

"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."

"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."

"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.

You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.

Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"

"Yes, love?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of text.

"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"

His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.

"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.

"I think I can have that arranged."

Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽

[pagesfromthevoid]

Future Fest | b. f. | 2

Bob Floyd x teacher!reader

She briefly considers that if he asked her, she’d go anywhere he wanted. 

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff

Author's Note: My hand slipped

Masterlist | Talk to Me! | AO3

Bob is sitting to the side with Phoenix, anxiously shaking his leg. He’s been checking his phone every five minutes it feels like, waiting for a text from her. They’ve been at the Hard Deck for an hour or so. He’s pretty sure the school let out at four, but he wasn’t positive. Maybe she’d forgotten; he’s kicking himself for not getting her number instead. 

“I can’t believe we go to a school thing and Baby on Board here manages to snag a teacher,” Hangman complains, hitting the cue ball across the table. He stands up straight, motioning to him. “C’mon. Look at him. No offense, I mean.”

“You really gotta stop saying ‘no offense’ when you say shitty things, Bagman,” Phoenix comments, rolling her eyes.

“She’s got a point,” Bob finally offers, looking up from his phone. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, keeping them in place. But he knows he has a shit eating grin on his face. “You’re the one that went out to lunch –I just happened to have stayed back. Right time, right place.”

“Don’t get cocky on us, Bobby,” Hangman warns, pointing the pool stick at him. “She hasn’t even texted you yet, has she?”

Bob deflates some, nodding sheepishly. Then, as if the universe wanted him to have a win, his phone buzzes.

Hey! It’s your new favorite teacher :) 

He grins at the text, unable to help himself. Hangman groans in the background, but Bob isn’t paying any attention to him now as he focuses on what to say. Then he decides to be honest –it only made sense.

Glad you texted me. I was starting to kick myself for not getting your number lol.

There’s a beat, and he stares at the screen and the little bubble that pops up as she’s typing. 

I’m pretty sure if I didn’t text you, my kids would have found out and murdered me. They’re so nosey lol

“You gonna play, Bob, or you gonna sit there and make eyes at your phone?” Fanboy teases, coming around to throw his arm around his shoulders. “Let’s see what your new friend is saying –,”

But Bob moves out of reach, holding his phone away from his friend as he stands up. “Knock it off –I’ll shoot later. I’ll be back in a sec.”

They all holler after him as he moves his way through the crowd and out the back doors. He considers, for a moment, if he should just call her. Would that be weird? He doesn’t really like texting; there could only be so much behind the words and it’s easy to misunderstand. And truthfully, he wants to hear her voice again.

He caves, and she picks up the first ring.

“I think you must have been able to read my mind,” she says from the other end of the call, and he can just see the pretty smile on her face. “I was just thinking I wanted to hear your voice.”

He blushes, running a hand over his jaw as he grins to himself. Then he sits on one of the chairs outside the bar, kicking his feet out. “I’m glad I’m not the only one, then,” he admits with a small chuckle. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Chaotic,” she admits with a laugh of her own. And Bob swears he’s never heard anything so sweet. “Once you left, the kids lost their damn minds on me. They’re so nosey –I couldn’t get them to focus at all.”

“I got the impression they’re a bit nosey,” he agrees, leaning back in the chair. “Are they always following you around, or was today a special sort of day?”

She sighs in a wistful sort of way, and he imagines her sitting in her living room. Maybe she’s relaxed after a long day, maybe she’s winding down. “Today was a special sort of day, but I do usually have a group that eats lunch with me every day. They were especially mad that I kicked them out.”

“I’ll have to make it up to them,” he offers without a second thought, sitting up again as Rooster comes outside. The pilot gives him a questioning thumbs up and Bob returns it with a smile. “I can bring lunch for them sometime, if you’d like.”

“Lieutenant Floyd, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to earn brownie points by being so nice to my students.”

He chuckles again, shaking his head. “Is it working?”

“It is,” she admits, and he covers his mouth because he knows he’s smiling like a damn fool. Even if she’s not here to see it, he can’t help it. “Let’s have that date before we start bribing my students to like you though.”

“I can make that happen,” he concedes, leaning forward now to rest his arms on the tops of his knees. “How’s Friday sound? I can pick you at six –there’s a nice little place on the water. The sunset’s always real pretty there.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” she agrees. “I’ll text you my address. What should I wear?”

“Anything you want.”

She hums at this, and he wonders what she’s thinking. But the thought is banished when she speaks again. “Well, I’ll see you on Friday, Lieutenant Floyd. I have to finish grading these essays before then, or our date will consist of you helping me grade.”

“I can do that too,” he offers without missing a beat. 

“I…really believe you would do that,” she admits with a soft laugh. “Text me, though. Seriously. I can’t chat on the phone, but I…I would like to keep talking to you.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says confidently. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

He hangs up the phone and stares at the screen with what’s probably the dopiest grin possible. Bob stays there for a little while longer, texting back and forth with her until Fanboy comes out and forces him back inside.

I want to say duty calls, but all that really means is that they need me to drive them home –have a goodnight. I’ll see you soon

There’s not a beat missed when she replies back,

I can’t wait, Lt. Floyd. Goodnight.

There’s a little blue heart at the end of the text, and Bob swears that it makes his heart lurch in his chest. He’s already a smitten fool for a girl he just met; the team is going to give him so much shit.

*****

She’s not pacing exactly, but she’s definitely not standing still as she waits for Bob. 

She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous; they’ve been texting back and forth all week and she called him at least twice after the initial chat. But she is, and so she’s finding things to do so she doesn’t sit and stew in her nerves. Touching up her lipstick, switching out the jewelry she’s wearing, changing her shoes…until there’s a soft knock on the front door and she takes a quick breath in.

“I got this,” she reassures herself, slipping her sandals back on, then opening the door. 

Bob is standing there with a bouquet of flowers. He’s not in his uniform today; just a light blue flannel shirt that’s rolled up to his elbows and a pair of jeans. But she can’t help but think he’s just as handsome as the first time she saw him. 

She’s distracted, and he clears his throat, but there’s a sheepish smile on his face as he speaks. “I wasn’t sure what flowers you liked, so I got probably one of everything.”

“These are beautiful,” she finally manages to say, taking them in her hands. “You can come in –I’ll put these in a vase then we can go.”

He follows her to the kitchen, where she fumbles around for a moment until she finds a vase big enough. She can feel his eyes on her for a moment but when she turns around, he’s looking at the photos on the wall just outside the kitchen. She comes up behind him, pointing at one of her as a little girl, with bright pink hair, and a younger boy with a green mohawk.

“That’s my little brother and I when we went back to Seattle for the first time since moving here,” she explains with a fond smile. “We weren’t supposed to be going anywhere, so my mom let us dye our hair and cut it up for the summer. My grandma got sick though and we had to go up there to help…My mom got the nastiest looks in the airport.” 

“You miss it up there?” He asks, looking down at her.

“Sometimes, but it’s too cold for me now.”

He nods in agreement as she motions for him to follow again, grabbing her purse. “I was stationed briefly up in Bremerton, at Naval Base Kitsap. It rains…a lot.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she laughs, shutting the door behind them. “Cold and wet. If it wasn’t so pretty, I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to live here.”

He opens the passenger door of his truck without hesitation, holding out his hand to help her in. She blushes at the motion, smiling to herself as she settles into the seat. 

The drive isn’t long, and when they arrive, they’re seated out on the deck, right on the beach. The sun is just setting, and she thinks it’s the most magical thing she’s seen in years. Then, he pulls out her chair for her there as well. She wants to thank his mother for raising a proper gentleman, because she can’t remember the last time anyone pulled out her chair for her or helped her get into the car. 

“Where are you from, Lieutenant?” She asks after the waiter takes their drink order.

“Montana,” he offers with a grin. “And you can just call me Bob.”

“Bob from Montana,” she repeats, nodding as if she suddenly understood a lot about him. “That does explain the accent –that midwestern chivalry too. Were you a cowboy before you were an officer, Bobby?”

He leans back in his seat a bit, watching her with that same grin he gave her at lunch the other day. “I did work on my family farm –can’t say I was a cowboy, though.”

“Shame, I bet you’d look cute in a cowboy hat.”

He blushes at that, and she laughs as she lifts her wine glass to her lips. “What made you wanna join the Navy? Isn’t Montana landlocked?”

He nods in confirmation, looking over at the water for a moment. “My dad, and his dad, and his dad before him –they were all military. It wasn’t even a second thought to join. But I wanted to work with planes, so the Navy had my best chance at that.”

“How often do you deploy?” She asks, and it’s a question she doesn’t really want an answer to, but she knows she needs to get it out of the way now before she’s hooked. Though, it might be too late.

“I just recently got back from deployment,” he explains, leaning his elbows on the table to look at her. His tone has shifted some, a bit more serious than before. “I’ll be here for a while, I think –they’re having our squad train a few teams of pilots on a new weapons system.”

“So that bodes well for a second date,” she offers, trying to ease any tension or concern he might have.

His smile says it all as he nods. “I think it does, yeah.”

The rest of the evening goes just as smoothly, conversation flowing easily between the two of them. They talk and eat, sharing a variety of things about themselves. She tells him about her favorite books, both personally and the ones she likes to teach. He tells her about his favorite movies and what he did before he moved to California. They don’t have a lot of things in common, but she tells him she’s interested in the things he talks about and is open to trying new things –but he has to be the one introducing them to her. He shares the sentiment, a grin on his face.

By the time the check comes, neither of them want the night to end.

“C’mon,” he suggests, taking her hand in his.

She follows without question, distracted by how large his hand is compared to hers. How calloused it is, which she knows is because of his work. There’s a brief moment where she considers how they would feel on other parts of her body, and the thought makes her flush as he pulls her down the boardwalk to the beach.

They slip off their shoes, leaving them up on the boardwalk in hopes they’re there when they get back. Feeling a little more bold, she pulls herself close to his side as they walk, other hand moving to hold onto his arm. Bob looks down at her, and even in the dark, she can see the blush creeping up his cheeks. 

“I’m having a great time tonight, Bob,” she sighs when they stop, sitting down in the sand. She rests her head on his shoulder, still holding his hand, and looks out over the water. “Thank you for this.”

He squeezes her hand gently, and she can feel him looking down at her. “Thank you for saying yes. I’m not…usually one to ask a pretty girl out the moment I meet her. But I’m glad I did.”

She looks up at him, and they lock eyes for a second. A fondness is in his eyes —more than just a passing date or two, but actual care —and she smiles. There’s a charge between them; a tension that they both know all too well. It’s just up to them now to decide who's going to give into it first. 

“I’d like to kiss you,” he admits, and she can’t help but let out a laugh. Because of course he’d ask; he’s too sweet not to. 

“I’d like it if you did too,” she promises. 

And that’s all it takes for Bob to lean in and close the gap between them. He’s soft, but a bit urgent, like he’s afraid if he stops, he’ll never get to kiss her again. But when she reaches up and touches his cheek, deepening the kiss, he slows down just enough to let her enjoy the feeling of his mouth on hers. 

He tastes sweet —and a little salty, though that could be the ocean sticking to their skin. His hands find her waist, and he’s pushing her back into the sand. Her tongue traces along his bottom lip, a silent question of more. And he accepts, half on top of her, as she tangles her tongue with his.

She thinks she’s definitely hooked now. There’s no way she’s not; his weight against her, his hands on her hips. He tastes like honeysuckle and vanilla, and she briefly considers that if he asked her, she’d go anywhere he wanted. 

When they finally pull apart —half because they need to breath and half because neither of them want to push this any further in the sand —he rests his forehead against hers. That boyish grin is plastered on his face, and her lips are swollen from kissing. They’re staring at each other like they think they both hold the stars in their eyes. 

“Can we skip to the part where you ask me to be your girlfriend?” She asks, voice soft as they sit up slowly. 

“After one date?” He points out, but not because he doesn’t want to. But because he’s surprised she does. “I…yeah. Absolutely.” She stares at him expectantly, grinning at him until he catches on. Then he nods quickly, fixing his glasses like it’s a nervous habit. “Sorry, yeah —I’d…I’d kill for you to be my girl, if you’d want that?”

“I do like the sound of being called your girl,” she admits, leaning over to kiss his cheek gently. “I definitely want that, Bobby.”

He nods again, unable to help the smile that’s spreading across his face. Then he’s kissing her again, like his life depends on it. But she’s laughing into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“My girl,” he whispers against her lips when he pulls away. 

“Your girl.” 

[marsprincess889]

Vedic astrology observations

Part 8

Section one: Appearance focused, all genders

1. If biological men/people who were born as men/masculine people have downturned eyes, you can bet they have a Mercury nakshatra in their big three.

Ashleshas tend to have darker and sharper eyes, but blue eyes are also common with them. Their gaze is the most personal out of all Mercury nakshatras.

Jyeshtas can actually have doe eyes but they also clearly convey their sharp intelligence, so they're not the kind of doe eyes that look naive. There's something strong and honest about their eyes. They can also have darker eyes but it's less frequent than among Ashlesha natives. Blue or Green eyes are more common with them.

Revatis almost always have blue eyes. If Ashlesha eyes are sharp and intense, and Jyeshta's are honest but intelligent, Revati eyes are wise and kind, and often, famously, mischevious. They might also have a natural smirking/laighing face or a twinkle in their eyes. This is one of the nakshatras that is easy to spot if you've seen a lot of them. Do not confuse their eyes with Ashwini's blue eyes tho. If the eyes look kind and deep despite the coldness, they're a Revati. If the eyes look blank and cold, they're Ashwini. That's how I see it after looking at natives of both.

2. Pushya people, especially men/masculines, have a resting happy face🙂. It's like, if someone got numb from smiling and their face stayed like that naturally😭 hope this makes sense. Feminine/Women who have Pushya in big three are often not that expressive appearance-wise, but Pushya men have REALLY expressive facial movements and sort of emotional expressions, especially if they're conveying sadness, fear or concern. Cancer rashi for you lol.

3. Elephant yonis (Bharani and Revati) and Vanar yonis (Purva Ashadha and Shravana) very often have ears that stick out slightly or more. Elephant yonis look good with their hair pulled back from their forehead as a result. I have not seen the same trend in Vanar yonis, I think with them the ears aren't as noticable. I actually like ears like that, I hope none of you who have one or more of these nakshatras get insecure about it, I'm one of you lol.

4. Punarvasu women/feminines might have either strong and healthy-looking bodies or really thin/dainty bodies. There's not much more I wanna say to this, this is really to the point and self-explanatory.

Section two: other/general

1. A lot of interpretations of planets in houses that I found online tend to be shallow and consequently, innacurate. One example I can use is Venus in the 10th house, which I have, and often that placement has these consistent descriptions:

Married to work/career

Meeting a spouse through work or career

Having an older spouse

Being cold or detached towards love

I have to say that these are extremely misleading. I never saw myself as an extremely work or career oriented person. I've also observed other people with this placement and here's what I actually think it means:

Not "married" to work or career(work isn't even 10th house, it's 6th house), but having a pleasant/lovely reputation, making it easier to navigate career.

The "meeting a spouse through work or career" part is the one I have not seen verified. There is nowhere I found that says that Venus represents how you meet your spouse. Besides, Venus only represents spouse for people who identify as male.

Having an older spouse might be true but again, mainly for males.

"Being cold or detached towards love" is not necessarily true. Venus in the 10th house person projects an agreeable, polite and charming behavior but maintains boundaries and distance. It might be hard for them to find people who connect to a deeper part of them and don't just want to be around that pleasant attitude, others might actually not be able to discern that that "pleasantness" is for everyone and not their true, internal nature (not that they can't actually be like that). Whether or not the native is actually cold or detached in love is dependant on other things. For example, I have moon in the 8th, which is almost all you need to know about my attitude towards personal and intimate relationships: I am loyal and intense once commited, but otherwise, it's hard for me to trust and open up. I also have protective tendencies that can manifest as isolation or secrecy.

2. As much as Ketu nakshatras can acquire power, they may not use it intelligently, responsibly, or for good. So, people who depend on them NEED to double(or triple or quadruple) check everything said Ketu native says. I've seen this so many times. A Ketu in big three person is looked up to naturally due to their energetic heat and self-reliance and people trust them before others, evsn if there's evidence against them. If you have Ketu in big three, you might not be aware of that potential in you. It is important for Ketu natives to emphasize facts and evidence. Otherwise, there's a high chance they're leading others and themselves into ignorant falsehood. (Ketu+Jupiter combination in big three can be extremely dangerous in particular. Ketu+ Venus is probably the most grounded and realistic combination)

3. Uttara Phalguni natives are really underappreciated, especially Uttara Phalguni moons. They are very generous while lifting up people around them, but might get treated in an underwhelming or dissapointing way in return. There's a common trope with Uttara Phalguni women that I want to publish on my Patreon (with examples in famous media, if I finally get the guts to launch it, I need support here guys, tell me you're intrigued😭).

4. Krittika women are soft firecrackers. They know their worth and have their own integrity but it's more vulnerable, because it is the birth of Sun, so, they might be a little agressive, but only in moments. Uttara Phalguni and Uttara Ashadha are fixed/stable in nature. They're more integrated in their Solar nature (does not mean that they're better or represent the Sun more) and have no need to be as defensive as Krittika. Krittika is mixed/both soft and sharp (the only other mixed nakshatra is Vishakha_ the nakshatra sitting opposite it), so it's nurturing and defensive, which matches nicely with its theme of fire_ the element that helps to warm up, cook and alchemize but also can burn.

I have multiple ideas for my Patreon posts: medieval Christian symbolism connected to one nakshatra and the spirituality of that nakshatra, analyzing childhood classics(for girls😭 mostly) with nakshatras, analyzing Jane Austen's work with her nakshatras and nakshatras of her characters' portayals in media and, as I said, a common trope of Uttara Phalguni women. Please comment or let me know otherwise which one you are most interested in.

Have a beautiful day🤍🤍🤍

[euphoria-looney]

Astro!

Yan!Batfam x Neglected!Reader Squid Games!AU

m. list|next

"And goodness knows, The Wicked's Lives are lonely. Goodness knows, The Wicked die alone. It just shows, when you're wicked, You're left only, on your own." 'No One Mourns The Wicked' by Wicked the Musical

Divider creds: (?) and @dollywons

As a kid, all I longed for was someone to play a game with me that didn’t require some form of technology to keep both of us entertained.

Well, be careful what you wish for, because I have reached an all-time low, willing to kill people with children's games to earn money.

How much longer will I spend in this twisted game before getting killed? Maybe this is better whether I win or lose, I still gain freedom.

One choice is just the better option. 

That’d be losing winning.

Sure I would feel immense guilt, but I’d be free from debt… and then what? No longer needing to slave anyway from the amount of money I receive.

What then?

Could therapy even help? They’d probably send me off to a mental ward. 

Who's going to believe I won millions from playing some children’s games?

I looked around and saw the old man again from earlier, sitting alone in a space, I approached him, and he accepted to play with me.

“When I was little, this was one of my favorite games as a child.” The old man told us while we were walking into an open area.

“Really? I’ll be honest, I’ve never played this game before.”

As we finally found a point to play the game, we conversed.

—

“Did we do this to make a pact?”

He held out his hand, his pinkie and thumb sticking out, I laughed, wrapping my pinkie around his, pressing our thumbs together.

“Sir, no my gganbu- I think that’s what they called a really close friend right?”

—

Eventually we went all for nothing, this was the funniest game I ever played… I almost forgot the fact that I was going to die at the end.

“Ah, guess you won, betting all my marbles for your single one. Didn’t see that one coming.” I chuckled sadly.

He held my hand and placed the last marble in my palm.

“Take it, it’s yours anyway.” I looked up at him in shock, I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

“We are gganbu aren’t we? Remember we swore on it. And Gganbu always shares everything no matter what. You made this all possible.” My shoulder shook, as I could only stare at my shoes, my eyes felt like facets at the point. 

And then I felt these same hands embrace me, and I felt like a child all over again.

“What a great way to go.”

He pulled away, making me face him.

“Thank you. I had a good time.”

I hugged him once again, my tears overflowing on his shoulders.

He let go and I walked out of the gates.

Sniffles were all I could do before I heard the voice behind me.

“I remember my name now. My name is Il-nam. Oh Il-nam.”

I kept walking then flinched when I heard a ‘bang’ go off.

Surrounded by all these dead bodies, and these empty emotions, I pushed forward.

[Player 1, Eliminated]

—

Despite everything, I’m still having these selfish thoughts of staying alive.

We had just played ‘glass bridge’ leaving three of us here, dressed in suits, and eventually I was talking with Penelope, she’s the one that helped me out of the restraint we were in after we left for the first time.

“Hey, [name], just in case either of us can actually make it out of this hellhole, promise that we will take care of each other's loved ones, okay?” 

“Don’t say that, we’ll be okay.”

But she took more damage than any of us once the glass had shattered and was losing blood fast.

“Stay where you are, I’ll go get someone.”

I left and went to the guard or whatever they were, to beg, plead, for a doctor, maybe one that could’ve been on standby, but instead they walked past me with a coffin.

I could only stare at my once best friend standing over her bed.

I ran over there and held her body up, shaking her for some sign of hope.

“No, Penelope, please, no…”

—

Approaching the end game, we ate a feast, so fresh and nicely made, I felt the need to puke.

We place in the field shapes surrounding us, to resemble a squid, this was, Squid Game.

The rain soaking both of us, gray skies, and a single guard on the side.

Astro’s shirt still soaked in blood, his suit back on. He spoke before the game began, a knife in hand.

“I ended her suffering. You know she would have died anyway.”

The tears that once stained my face had been washed off by the rain, and now I could only feel disdain for the man I once knew in front of me.

“That’s bullshit, stop lying. She could’ve survived, they could have treated her.”

He retorted.

“I know what you’re like, you’re the reason I had to kill her. I knew you two would stop all this, so she didn’t die there. Even though we’ve gone so far, just to quit?” 

It seemed so similar to the time back at the manor.

—

“Damian had a lot happen to him as a child, are you going to blame him for this?” Dick sighed Damian behind him with no remorse for the fact I had slashes on my arm, not deep but painful. And though they wouldn’t leave scars, would that really matter?

He held a weapon against me while all I had was a stack of books now discarded and torn on the ground.

“[name]. You’re older than him, he’s still a child. You are the reason for this, it could’ve been avoided if you didn’t egg things on. Don’t blame Damian for your faults.” Egg him on? All I did was try and avoid him.

It wasn’t fair.

—

Now, if it wasn’t high before, my blood pressure had to be spiking. For that petty reason? Simply because he didn’t want all of this going to waste?

“Was that it? You killed someone because this might end?” My voice trembled.

“Yeah! You and that girl would have been the majority you needed to get out! Going home without anything! I couldn’t live with that!”

“And you think that means anything?! What?! one more life on top of the others you’ve stolen isn’t enough, and won’t be enough until you receive something?! You’d rather have one more dead than for all three of us to leave and somehow find another way to bring something, anything home?!” I shouted back at him.

I took my knife out of my pocket.

“It's over…”

“I won’t let you leave here with the money.”

3RD POV

While the VIP’s finally stood up to watch this entertaining last game.

Two people who have developed over time physically and mentally, once friends, were squabbling, fighting with very small amounts of energy, but a passion to win.

Both stabbed the other when eventually, player 456 was able to get the other on the ground and punched him over and over again.

The Waynes couldn’t help but be relieved this was it, they’d never let her go again, they would make up for everything starting with making sure she would be okay.

“Found the location heading there soon!” They heard Cassandra on the other line.

Late, but they would make it.

—

[name]’s POV

I held my knife, before stabbing it into the field, next to his face, before limping over to the goal point, it felt miles anyway, the guard had his gun loaded and aimed at Astro.

There before me was the practical finish line.

I can’t… No, I refuse to if anything, playing this game has fucked me other the head, but I refuse for one second to let this game be the last thing I ever see Astro at.

“I wanna end here.” I face the guard walking back to them.

“Clause Three of the agreement. The players are able to end the game when the majority agrees, so if we both give up,  you have to end it right?” I stumbled over.

The guard spoke on the walkie-talkie while I gazed back at Astro.

“Astro.”

“Back when we went to the same school, we’d hang out together and study before leaving chasing after our purpose that called out for us. Nothing's calling anymore.” After all this time, he still is.

I smiled at him, that once gummy smile I adorned, one that I hated so much.

“Let’s go”

I extended my hand to him. 

“Let’s go together.”

He slowly lifted his hand.

“[name], I’m sorry.” 

And before I could react, he took that hand and grabbed the knife that I put right next to him, and impaled himself in the neck with it. 

Blood gushed out and he choked out blood.

I quickly went to his side, stabilizing his head.

“Astro! Astro!”

“[name]..”

“No, no, don’t speak! Hang on!” I was panicking, this can’t be the end of us.

“M-my mother, please take care of my mom. And…”

“I love you.” That made me freeze my erratic movements, I was sure he could’ve seen my eyes widen.

“Loved you since meeting you.” With that, he closed his eyes and I could only call out his name, and held onto his body, it was getting colder fast.

[Player 218, Eliminated. Congratulations, Player456]

—

3rd POV

“Believe in Jesus or go to Hell!” A guy holding two signs chanted outside in the rain, strangers walking past each other, a white limo rolled up on the side of the street, dumping a bruised and exhausted body on the sidewalk, the same guy chanting untied the girl.

“Believe in Jesus.”

The girl was in the bank depositing 4.56 billion dollars before withdrawing some out. Her hair a mess, eyes sullen and eye bags that dragged down her face, she seemed exhausted. Walking back to the store she once worked at, a sign stated ‘SOLD’ and next to it a reef, “Rest in Peace, Conny Claire, Died too soon, old shop owner that meant so much to many people.” Flowers that surround the message.

The girl that came there for a snack could only sink to the ground in shock, hands rising to cover her face, body shaking and quivering.

Walking down a store alleyway, Astro’s mom approached the girl.

“How have you been, here take some food for the road after losing…” She sighed, and patted the girl's back, walking back to her shop.

“Have you heard from… Nevermind.” 

The girl opened her run down apartment where she once lived and went to see all the old photos in the yearbook of classes she had with Astro and in all of the group ones featuring her, her classmates, and Astro she noticed how in each one he was looking at her, with those fond eyes.

She could only fall onto her bed, her tired state crept on her before she fell asleep.

Some time later, the girl kept her promise to Penelope and helped out her family, then left them with Astro’s mom, leaving a wealthy sum of money, they became a family… somewhat of a replacement for the other's loved one, and the girl left paying off whatever debt any of them had.

The girl was sitting alone at the pond, drinking some alcohol. Before an old woman approached her, a flower basket in hand, it seemed she needed to sell them immediately before they wilted away. The girl reached into her pocket, handing her some money before the old woman went off. 

Picking up the nicely wrapped flower, a card appeared, making the girl stumble at picking up the card before reading it.

Approaching a hospital, card in hand.

It was the old man.

“What is this… Who are you?”

“Pour some water for me. Please, [name].”

And there she sat, anger rising in her, but she couldn’t do anything against the man who made the games.

She sat listening to the man talk, about the homeless guy below them, about how everything he said about himself was true, how he missed the old days, him and his friend used to have the time of their lives, and how no matter if you're homeless or rich both lives are no fun. Then a clock struck.

She looked at the machine to see that his heart was no longer beating, instead a flat line appeared. Getting up, she closed his eyes.

That’s when she finally started her life again. She got it together.

So, at the first place, her life changed at the same bus stop, well across from it, the skies were clear and the sun was glaring into the area. It had been a regular day for her, working at her own company and all.

Maybe that’s why when she unlocked her car and stared right in front of her at that same place, she was shocked to see her father, Bruce Wayne, and his family.

That’s it for this part of Astro! Did you like it?

Also, unlike Squid Game, soon after [name] left, everyone that participated in Squid Games got arrested, which made it on the news, but was looked past after a few months, [name] made gravestones for Penelope and Astro.

Ofc the Batfam got the credit and got even more famous for uncovering this incident, which is also why they hadn’t ‘visited’ [name] and now are just getting to it.

Not the update you expected, but I hope you like it.

Any comments, advice and corrections are appreciated!!!

-ILoveeeMoney

Taglist time! ❤

Also, I love the idea and from fic from both @jellyfishmoon97 and @not-weirdoshrek and a new addition that I'm super happy I bumped into @alilobsessive.

@holysoulsweets @sh4rk-k1d @sillysealsies @loomspuddle @cantfindmelol @alwaysholymilkshake @leitor-sonolento @randomlyappearingartist @beyondblissxoxo @sirairi @yhin-gg @frankie-moon3 @welpthisisboring @yokesmam @bat1212 @enchantingarcadecreation @twismare @delias-stuff @ladylupuscrow @ferchu0406 @c4xcocoa @cruzerforce4256 @anonymoushehehehe @godoreo22 @blerp-22 @facelessisnthere @sirenetheblogger @themightybee4067 @boredselkie @tiffyisme3760 @random4137 @midnightgrimoire @mybones537 @chaoticmoontimetravel @jsprien213 @crazycaoticsimp @elfollaburras3000 @czarinera @tiffyisme3760 @exactlynumberonekryptonite @gwyneveire @k-anaru @a-lurking-fae @nxdxsworld @ryuushou

I think that's everyone who wanted to be tagged, I hope I didn't spell anyone's name wrong and tag the wrong person.

[breezymichelle99]

Viral Soft Launch | LN

Handsomer by Russ (remix)

Summary: Lando and you had always had a very private relationship, always keeping to yourself until a fun little tik tok trend helps you soft launch your relationship.

Warnings: Pretty much none. All fluff. Some sexual innuendo, dirty song lyrics, private relationship, sweet cute bf Lando.

You and Formula one driver, Lando Norris have been dating each other privately for about a year now, there have been rumors but nothing has been confirmed about you two at this time, and to be honest you and Lando liked it that way.. You had been begging him for weeks now to do this silly little Tik Tok trend with you that you had seen other couples doing, even if you didn’t post it to your respective social media accounts you still wanted to make a fun memory with him.

Finally you got him to agree. “Alright Alright, If this is what you want? Tell me what I have to do.” he says with a smirk looking down at you pouting up at him, his thumb running across your bottom lip. “You are the best Lan, I love you so much.” your eyes sparkle at him. You hear him chuckle. “I love you too, Y|N.” his green eyes shining with so much love and admiration for his silly girlfriend. “Okay I'm going to need you to memorize these lyrics.” you say handing him a piece of paper with your handwriting on it. The lyrics to The Remix of Russ’s “Handsomer.” written across it. He looks over at you shaking his head with a laugh. “It's a good thing I love you.” he says, placing a kiss to the top of your head as he leaves you in the living room to practice your part.

After a few hours Lando joins you back in the living room. “I think I’m ready.” he says with a smirk as he watches you practicing your part along with some choreography he feared he would have to learn. You look up at him giving him a wink. “Perfect, me too.” you say pulling him to you and standing on your tippy toes to kiss his perfect little nose. “Here's what I'd like to do.” you say directing him. He lets you drag him around the living room trying to find the best lighting. “Perfection.” you say looking over at Lando glowing in the sunlight of your shared living room. “I want to do each of our parts and then merge them together.” you say. “I’ll do you, you do me.” you say making Lando laugh. “Cut it out Norris.” you laugh playfully shoving him away from you. His dirty mind always getting him into trouble. “Alright alright, sorry serious business, my bad.” he still can’t keep himself from chuckling. You roll your eyes at him. “Since you can’t be serious apparently. You’re going first.” you say pointing for him to return to the designated filming spot. “Bossy much.” he jokes sticking his tongue out at you but doing what he’s told of course. You return the favor sticking out your tongue back at him. Lando raises his eyebrow and opens his mouth to make a comment about putting that tongue to much better use but he decides to keep his mouth shut and do what he’s told.

“Please feel free to have fun with it.” you say winking at him. “So I shouldn’t just stand here like a lump and mumble the lyrics? Rats, that was my whole plan.” he teases you once more. “You know what, never mind.” you sigh walking away, giving up on his continuous bullying and this cute idea you wanted to do with him. “No, no baby come back, I’m sorry I’ll be more serious I swear.” he begs not wanting to see the disappointment on your adorable face any longer. You give him a long side eye. “Ok.” you whisper returning to your filming spot. “Ready when you are princess.” he says with a wink. “On the count of three, okay baby?” you say he nods. “One..Two..Three.” you say pressing Play.

Much to your surprise Lando had really taken his part seriously. “I know I’m fine, but the money makes me handsomer. Walk around, smellin’ like a come-up, and the answer for her problems, but I’m not him, I don’t mind it though. You don’t like me how you think you do, I like it though.” he finishes his part in a fit of laughter. “I'm sorry but this is ridiculous.” he says running his hands through his curls as he rewatches his rap, with both of you laughing hysterically by the end. “Alright missy no more stalling your turn.” he says taking your phone from you. He had no clue what your part was going to be so he was in for a little treat. You take your spot ready whenever he is. You nod. “On the count of three angel face.” he winks. You nod again, locking in. “One..Two..Three.” he says.

“I won’t lie, that extra coin don’t hurt But I gets money baby, I just rather spend yours first. I know for sure the pussy worth more than an Hermes purse.” Lando bites his bottom lip keeping in his gasp as he watches you in pure awe. “I got the best on earth, so that dick better come with some perks. Yeah you fine, and the money caught my eye too but there's a big difference between you and my side dude. You be all up in between them thighs, he’s who I lie to.” you pause winking at him licking your lips. An almost moan leaves Lando’s lips. Damn you were sexy. “You get my titties in your face, he getting side-boob.” you stop laughing hysterically falling into his arms.. You rewatch it laughing hysterically, you both try it a few more times finally deciding to just do it together instead of making separate videos, before you are fully satisfied, each time ending with the pair of you in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. the final take has you both laughing hysterically, lando kissing you softly the pair of you looking at each other completely in love. “That’s it, that's the one.” you say with a soft sweet smile on your face, as you edit the final cut and save it to your phone. Playing it back for Lando.

“This turned out so cute and fun, thanks for convincing me to do it with you.” he laughs, pulling you into his arms. “Thank you for agreeing to do it with me.” you say kissing his cheek gently. You see Lando smirk. “What?” you ask him caressing his cheek with your soft fingertips. “There's no side dude looking at your side boob? Right??” he asks with a laugh. You smack him playfully. “Seriously? Of course not you should know better than that.. You are my one and only Lan.” you smirk. The pair of you stare at each other for a moment before you sigh.

“I know how we like to keep ourselves private so I don’t think we should share it.” you say. Lando can see the sadness in your eyes as the words leave your lips. You knew why you kept things private but sometimes you just really wanted to be able to share the love and joy you had for your sweet boyfriend. He kisses your lips softly. “Whatever you think is best princess, at least we have the moment for us.” he says . There is something mischievous in his eyes. You let out a sigh. “It's probably for the best.” you say setting your phone down on the table, kissing Lando on the cheek and heading into the kitchen to grab a drink. Lando smirks. He had a plan.

He takes your phone and sends the video to himself. He knows the reason why you two had remained private about your relationship but he thought it was about time he shared the love he had for the most beautiful sweet girl he had ever known. You walk back into the living room to grab your phone, so you can put on some music while you cook for the two of you. He knew this was the perfect opportunity. He heard you digging around in the cupboard pulling out pots and pans, the soft hum of Martin Garrix coming from where you were. He smirks as he takes to his instagram to post the video of you two. “You are the answer to all my problems.” he captioned the video after a popular lyric in the song, tagging you and hitting share.. He hears everything in the kitchen stop. He smiles as the video had finally uploaded to his instagram.

“Lando?” he hears you call to him. He can’t help but smirk. “Yeah babe.” he says as you meet him in the hall, phone in hand. You eye him. “You just couldn’t help yourself could you?” you laugh at your idiot boyfriend. He pulls you close. “I couldn’t help it, we looked so cute and had so much fun, I couldn’t let that go to waste, plus you worked so hard to get me to do it with you, and looked so disappointed when we decided not to share it.” he says. “What about our privacy?” you ask him, as he brushes a strand of your hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. “We’ll deal with it as it comes my love, there isn’t a single thing we can’t handle together.” he says kissing your lips reassuring you that everything was going to be alright. At this time you were sure the internet was probably going wild with your relationship finally confirmed.

You decide to follow Lando’s lead and share his post to your story. “#SoftLaunch I love you 😘 Thanks for being silly with me babe. You are my everything 🥰” you were so happy you finally got to share this love you had with everyone. Lando’s fans were going crazy, loving you two finally going public. There had been so many rumors since you’d been in the paddock so much but you two had always been careful about putting your relationship into the public eye but it was kind of refreshing to finally be out in the open sharing your love for each other and being able to announce your relationship in such a fun way, which fans were absolutely loving. You couldn’t wait to be able to get him to do the next Tik Tok trend with you.

The End.

[kawhh]

I'm aware I'm gonna lose people with this but I really do need to get the thought out of my head (I'm being delusional and this'll make it worse). It's just Jack and blood does something to me. Something magical. Also for the dark!Jack askers.

1.7k words.

Warnings!!!: if you're squeamish, please don't read this. I mean it. There's a lot of blood talk. Him covering you in it. Biting. Me going insane. Being a whore on main. Somnophilia. Jack being feral. If the idea of period sex makes you go ew, this'll make you worse. Him not caring if you don't want him marking you.

You've been worried about him since he got hit - knowing how bad some high stick injuries can be. Stressing until he was shown on the bench, barely calming down seeing all the blood still covering his face. How casual he is about it, not being phased at all, making no effort to wipe it off.

How aggressively he's playing after it, there's more aggression in him when he takes face offs. There's more push behind his skates up and down the ice. More concentration on his bloodied face.

If you're being honest, the whole thing is incredibly hot. Even though there's an underlying beat of concern. You don't like seeing him hurt.

It's late at night, so you're cuddled up on the couch in one of his shirts. Always feels like he's home with you when you're bundled up in his scent.

It's too much for him when he gets home. It's like someone's sucked all the air out of the room. His knuckles white as snow from his grip on the door frame. He doesn't dare move. Feeling like he's one step away from losing any and all sanity that he has left.

His girl.. all perfect.

His shirt on you.. how small you look in it. It's physically stunned him.

He can feel the blood on his face still. He was in too much of a rush to get home to you, he wouldn't take the time to wipe it off. He wasn't wasting time showering. Not when he knows you're all alone at home. He's not phased by it, just slowly dragging his tongue over his lip to prevent it from getting out of control.

He's no stranger to blood in his mouth. Injuries are common and he can't just stop whenever it happens.

He figures you're asleep. Who knows how long he's just been stuck there, trying to piece together the non feral part of his brain. You haven't made any noise, haven't reacted to him coming home.

He's free to just.. observe.

He's salivating over your legs. They look so pure and untouched, unmarked, oh so long looking under the shirt. Fuck.. he doesn't know what he wants first.

He could have them wrapped around his waist, have you scratching your own marks into his back as he fucks you into the wall. Wanting to see the pathetically adorable tears streak down your face until you get noise complaints.

Have you bouncing on his dick, slamming you down to force you to go at his pace, forcing you back down to meet his savage thrusts even if you try and crawl off to escape.

Wrapping them around his head, forcing them tighter against his head, wanting to suffocate against your cunt. Feeling you cry and squirm against him, trying to escape his tongue.

How pretty he'd paint you with the blood that's still leaking from his mouth. What a perfect way to make a point.. show you how much you truly belong to him. It'd stand out so vividly against your skin.. against your cute little cunt.

It's enough to take the final sanity percentage from him. He can't stay here watching you from afar now. He's gone too deep. The chances of him walking by you to shower before coming back.. non existent.

He's like a possessed animal stalking towards you, hair loose, half covering his face. His expression dark, his eyes barely visible. His pupils fully dilated.

If he doesn't get his mouth on you and in you, he thinks he might lose it. He can't even wait for you to stir. He doesn't have the restraint. Doesn't fucking want the restraint.

He's hovering over you before he can even process it, grabbing your legs as gently as he physically can in his state, making room for himself to kneel between them on the couch. Leaning over to hover over your face, staring at how innocent you look under him.

His baby must've stayed up late worrying yourself to sleep, he knows how you get.

His fingers not being able to resist digging into your shoulders, staring at the way that your body doesn't resist him. The slight bruises he leaves, painting you. The way you almost lean into his touch in your sleep, seemingly seconds away from mewling like a cat.

He can't resist pulling your shirt up. He can't get it fully off without waking you up, but he inches it towards your neck as gently as he can. Restraining you slightly as it reaches armpit height.

He's slightly startled as he hears a small sound, like a droplet. Looking down, realizing that some of the blood from his mouth is smack bang in the middle of your exposed chest now. Trailing it with his eyes as it slides down your cleavage, under your bra, leaving a skin stain as it goes.

He can't stop the gulp, processing how it feels to see him on you, in such a different way..

There's nothing more him than his blood. It's so striking against your skin. He can't explain the sudden urge he has to follow it with his tongue. To cover you in him.

He makes a fatal mistake, resting his head against your shoulder. His attempt to control himself only makes the problem worse as he lifts his head, realizing that you're now covered in his blood, your whole left shoulder looks like a murder scene.

He can't resist licking your skin. Just once. Tasting your skin combined with him. He's never felt this possessive before, never felt more sure in the fact that you're his.

Sinking his teeth gently into the skin, just enough to leave a mark. He doesn't fully know what's wrong with him. This need to just.. mark you up. To mark up every single inch of your skin. You're such a little fucking cute bunny rabbit. So adorably small against him. So weak. So fragile. So his.

He can't stop at just your shoulder. He's inching down, nipping and sucking at your skin, occasionally licking at the blood if it pools too much. Making his way down to your chest, watching the droplets drip down your tits, following the perfect curve, seeping into your bra.

He can't resist running his tongue down your cleavage. Slowly folding the cups over enough to get his hot, wet mouth around your nipple. Biting harshly, eyes flicking up to you as your squirm in your sleep. He wonders if you're dreaming about it. If you can feel his body. If you're mentally aware of how deranged he's feeling tonight.

Squirming more as he reaches your stomach. He half entertains spelling his name on your stomach but he truly doesn't have the patience. He's biting his lip more as he goes, trying to agitate it, getting frustrated that the blood's drying up. He doesn't care if it hurts, how much it stings with every single movement. He'll take care of it later. It's not important.

It does rush him slightly. He can't risk running out of it before he gets to his meal. Skipping mostly past your stomach, dragging his parted mouth down until he reaches his meal. Resting his mouth against your cute underwear. Smirking as he realizes there's adorable little teddies on them. Slowly staining them with blood as he keeps his head still, resting his mouth above your clit. The contrast of the blood and your visible innocence, he could moan.

He's just resting there, breathing you in. He can smell you. Feel the heat coming from your adorable pussy. He can't resist gently biting, mostly gripping your underwear in his teeth, letting it smack back against your clit, hearing you let out the littlest moan. He doesn't care to check if you're waking up now. It's not like he'll stop, even if you do wake up and protest. There's nothing you can do about it.

Nuzzling his nose down where your thigh meets this delicious skin, breathing you in. He can feel the dampness of your pussy smearing on his face as he drags his cheek down. Marking himself up with you.

Biting you in a harsher manner on your inner thighs, feeling how your skin melts like butter at his attack. Smearing you in the blood that's drying up faster now, licking up the arousal that's seeping from your underwear.

His girl loves this so fucking much.. as you should.

The little whimpers you let out.. he can't wait any longer. He's teased himself enough. He can feel the fucking precum soaking his shorts. Hell, it's probably even on your legs at this point. The throbbing is so hard for him to ignore, but you aren't fully claimed yet. He hasn't had his fill of your cunt.

Spinning you slightly, dragging you to the edge of the couch. Sinking to his knees in front of you.

He's ripping your underwear off with his teeth, laughing cruelly as he hears your startled gasp. You're awake now it seems. Maybe you're swearing at him. Maybe you're begging him to stop. Maybe you're moaning. He doesn't care. It's time to eat.

Swiping his tongue all the way from your cute hole to your adorable clit. There's only a faint amount of blood leaking from him now, but it's enough for him to slowly watch it mix with your arousal. Only fueling him more to eat you.

Stretching you apart with his fingers, putting weight behind it to make sure you can't move. Can't protest. Sucking every last drop from you, lapping at you like you're water in an oasis. Feeling you clench. Nipping at your clit, not wanting your body to get used to one sensation.

Thrusting his tongue into your cunt, licking against your walls, wanting to consume you from the source.

He's thrusting slowly against the couch, imagining splitting you open with his cock, mimicking the motions with his tongue. You're spasming around him, he can hear your cries getting louder.

Slowly thrusting in with his finger, adding another soon after. Stretching you open, making room for him to shove his tongue further in along with them.

Feeling your legs shake around his shoulders, restricting his breathing. Cumming in his shorts at you getting off on being claimed.

Pulling back, eyes half lidded, running his eyes over your body. Admiring all of the blood smears and marks on your body. He's never felt so in control. So satiated. So utterly dominant over you. There's no doubting that you're his.

And he hasn't even fucked you yet.

[aconitum-fields]

As we reach Born Again's climax, I believe it's time for Matt to finally face the music. To finally admit that, yes, every choice he's made as of late has been a part of one long nervous breakdown and that he has not recovered from the trauma of losing the man who was once his heart and home.

The classic, time-tested, Matthew Murdock grief process is for him to lose his mind for a week or so, then once he hit's a certain low, he snaps back on a pin drop and enters the longest phase of his grief: living his life in a haze and making increasingly rash decisions until they eventually ruin his life and/or the lives around him.

Beginning with him not speaking to Karen for weeks hot off Foggy's death and "retiring" from being Daredevil, the bulk of DDBA has been nothing but that long second phase. For the past eight episodes, we've been watching Matt edge the line between his secret identity and regular life, isolate himself from his girlfriend and coworkers, and make risky decision after risky decision. It is no secret that Matt is a ticking timebomb, and I think it is safe to assume that taking a bullet for Fisk is the climax of this spiral. He can't exactly "I'm fine" his way out of willfully being shot in the middle of a gala.

And with the inevitable hospital trip Matt's about to face coming up, I can't help but wonder if we'll finally get to see be this page adapted:

It's clear to us all that Matt's life has been feeling as rushed and displaced as it is because of his deteriorating mental health. But who will it be? Who will finally, truly, confront Matt on what's been going on with him? Who will be able to help him find himself again?

Heather attempted to pry Matt open in episode 7, and though Matt did admit to her that his life feels fake, he's clearly still hiding; clearly still running from the idea that Foggy's death broke something in him that he doesn't want to fix. It doesn't matter if she's a therapist and can analyze his mental deterioration, she just does not understand Matt as a person. There's a very blatant disconnect in Matt and Heather's relationship that I don't believe they will be able to fix. Matt's... never really been the best boyfriend/friend in the world (outside of college maybe) so you can't really blame Heather for being so short with him, but it's doing their relationship no favours.

Aside from Heather's attempt, Frank is the only other person (more or less) in DDBA who has gotten close to making Matt face himself. Frank is someone who's able to claw out Matt's deepest rage. It's bloody, beautiful, visceral, and born of deep heartache. But Matt's anger and hatred isn't what we need here. We need to find his heart --the one that was buried with Foggy.

I believe Karen is a very strong contender as for who can help Matt return to himself. Like Ben Urich in Bendis' run, she's been cut out of Matt's life long enough that returning to it in episode 9 with fresh eyes will have her crossing her arms and shaking her head. When she realizes how much he's let his life spiral out of control, I'm sure she'll be more than ready to knock some self-awareness into him. But deep in my heart, I hope it will be Kirsten.

So far, Kirsten has been getting the short end of the stick in the character development department. But, I'm hopeful. Her best and most fleshed out scenes have been from the post-overhaul episodes, and with the way she lifted Matt's glasses and pointed out his black eye in this weeks episode, I can't help but think (and pray) that she's about to get a lot more involved in Matt's personal life.

Where Heather tries to poke, prod, and force Matt into a corner until he admits that he needs serious help, Kirsten's the kind of person to make you feel comfortable enough that being honest with her comes naturally when you're ready for it. It's like that old idiom, "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink." Heather, being the self-assured therapist that she is, can clearly recognize that Matt is mentally ill and has been trying to force him to admit it. But that just doesn't work with Matt. He's not stupid, he knows that his mind is eating him alive, but he's the kind of person who would rather give his all helping others than spend a minute helping himself. You're not going to get him to open up if you make him feel like his emotions are a chore, and this is why I so firmly believe that Kirsten should be the one to help Matt wake up and stop sleeping through life.

Kirsten is one of my favourite Daredevil characters and her relationship with Matt in the comics was easily his healthiest one. She's passionate, hilarious, takes no shit, and will always see straight through Matt. And when it comes to Matt's turbulent mental health, she knows when to push and when to back off; when it's safe to tease and when a joke might make him close off. I can't be the only one who cried when reading Daredevil Vol. 4 and got to the part where Kirsten could tell Matt was teetering on a breakdown and waited outside his place for when he'd be okay to open up. Kirsten's compassion and patience with Matt is something that will forever warm my heart. She's the kind of person I wish I had in my life.

Their relationship is everything to me. Please, Born Again showrunners, I beg of you LET KIRSTEN BE MATT'S ANCHOR!!!

Though most of Born Again has put Kirsten on a back burner, I can tell that the new showrunners understand her well and I really do hope that the show is going to give us a good slow burn romance between her and Matt. You can't just add Matt's best love interest (besides Elektra) into the narrative and have her played by an actress as perfect as Nikki M. James then NOT have her be endgame with Matt. There's so much potential between them!! They can't let their chemistry go to waste. Nuh uh, I REFUSE. So, with season 1's conclusion around the corner, I hope we'll get to see her be a guiding light to help Matt out of the dark sea of his mind.

[sdmnpact]

Tequila Sunrise.

Wroetoshaw x Reader smut

**18+ MDNI**

♪ Now Playing: Tequila Sunrise by Emblem 3 ♪

~~~

You were at the club with your best friends. You noticed how crowded it was, the music pounding loudly with the DJ's lights illuminating the room in a pinkish blue tint. Your friends decided on having a night out full of fun and forgetting your everyday worries.

"Y/n, we're gonna go on the dance floor, come join us!" Your friend shrieked as she was holding onto the bar already wasted from the multiple drinks she's had. "I think I'll just sit here for a bit, enjoy my drink. I'll join you later." She rolled her eyes playfully, waving you off stumbling towards the dance floor with the others.

You watched at your friends danced, their bodies moving around in tandem with the crowd. You wanted to dance, but they have got the best tequila sunrises you've ever had in your life and you wanted to finish it. You sipped at it, looking at your phone for a brief moment when you felt someone sit by your side.

You quickly glanced over and saw a guy with blondish hair. You turned away from him, continuing to sip at your drink. You pulled out the cherry and set it on the napkin in front of you.

"Don't like cherries?" The man next to you asked. You turned around, slightly surprised by his sudden words.

"I'm sorry?"

"I noticed you picked out the cherry, well cherries." He pointed at the napkin with a total of four.

"Oh, yeah, I don't really like these ones as much." You said with an awkward laugh. You looked down, trying to avoid eye contact.

"So you don't mind if I take them?" You looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow.

"You want a stranger's cherries?"

"Well, I'm Harry. What's your name?"

"Y/n..." You said with slight hesitation, your previous question still lingering in your mind.

"See, we aren't strangers anymore." He said as he picked them up and plopped them in his mouth.

You were curious about him, he had a very confident demeanor making you feel a bit weary but you decided to keep talking with him.

"You're just okay with eating a stranger's cherries? What if I sucked on them then put them down?"

"Adds flavor, doesn't it." You scrunched your face in slight disgust but found it funny how unphased this man is.

"So, why are you here and not out on the dance floor?" He asked looking towards the crowd.

"Just enjoying my drink, have you tried these? They're super tasty but not too sweet!" You exclaimed with maybe a bit too much enthusiasm and slightly tipsy from drinking so many.

"Yeah, I can see that." He laugh a breathy little chuckle. There was a small moment where he was mesmerized by your eyes getting lost in them. He found you so beautiful even in your drunken state. To be honest, he had been trying to find a reason to come up to you, luckily, the cherries offered a nice conversation starter.

"So, you wanna get outta here?" You asked jokingly seeing his face flush immediately.

"What?"

"I'm just kidding, don't get your knickers in a twist." You laughed as he let out a big breath.

"Well, do you want to go dance now?" He asked still slightly red in the cheeks.

"Sure." You finished the last of your drink as he grabbed your hand leading you to the dance floor.

You looked over and saw your friends throwing you funny faces making you roll your eyes. One of your friends mouthing a 'get in there' causing you to turn your back towards them, not wanting to see their reactions.

You and Harry began dancing to the upbeat music that filled the scene. You weren't the best at dancing and just loved to enjoy yourself, even if you looked weird.

You bodies moved in sync with each other. You moved your hips into his as he held onto your waist for grip. You just danced together without a care in the world.

The music changed to a more rhythmic tune but you didn't want to separate from him and you could feel his grip tighten. You turned to face him, his forehead collecting little drops of sweat making his messy hair stick to it.

"You're a really good dancer" He shouted over the music, you shot him a little smirk, moving the hair from his forehead.

"You're not so bad yourself." You said, both of you breathing heavily. You stared into each others eyes, taking a short break from the intense dancing.

His eyes moved from your eyes to your lips. You noticed that he wanted to kiss you and you grabbed his neck, pulling him towards you planting your lips on his.

As cliché as it sounds, you felt a flutter in your stomach as you moved your lips against his gripping his neck tighter for support.

It felt like you were the only people in the room as you continued kissing. You couldn't pull away, you felt hungry for more of him as he sensed it, his hands slowly trailing to your bottom.

You yelped a bit as he squeezed it, you could feel a slight smile form on his lips.

You continued like this for a couple more minutes until you remembered where you were. You pulled away, putting your hand on your lips.

"That was a bit unexpected." You said with a small chuckle.

"Should we do it again?" His bottom lip sticking out and his eyes widening like a puppy.

"Maybe... but not here." You said pulling on his arm as you made your way out of the club.

You two were both panting heavily as you walked into the empty street in front of the club. The only sounds were the muted thumping of the music and some crickets chirping in the background.

You pulled him towards the nearby alleyway that had a small little nook with walls on either side. You pushed him into the wall, grabbing his neck once again, pulling him towards your lips.

You kissed him even rougher this time, feeling more free with this slight privacy. He held onto your waist putting his hands under your shirt. You gasped slightly feeling his cold hands on your delicate skin.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth exploring as you let him take dominance. You felt his hands move up towards your bra as he then unclasped the clips.

His hands then made their way towards your breast, delicately fondly them as you moaned, he began messaging your nipples not breaking the momentum of the kiss.

You tugged on his hair, desperately wanting more of him. He understood and moved his lips down your jawline, then your neck, taking small nips of it as he made his way down.

He swiftly spun you two around so you were against the wall. He lifted up your shirt, his thumb running over your nipples as you looked at him, biting your lip.

You watched as his head made his way down to your left breast, placing his soft lips on your nipple, sucking ever so lightly. His tongue swirling around while his other hand was still on your right breast caressing it. Your eyes rolled back as you felt your heat pulsating at his soft touch.

His hand made it's way down towards the bottom of your skirt. Luckily, you were wearing a loose fitting skirt and only a thong underneath.

His fingers slowly reached underneath.

"Already wet?" He teased, his voice deeper and raspier than earlier.

His fingers trailing around your heat, going everywhere but inside. His fingertips drawing lines up and down your inner thighs finally going near your clit.

Suddenly he inserted two fingers inside, making you yelp at the sudden feeling.

His lips made their way back to yours to keep you from moaning out loud.

His fingers going in and out of you, causing your hips to buck as his speed increased.

You felt yourself already dripping around his hand as his cold fingers felt nice inside your warm clit.

Your head went back, separating you from his lips as you couldn't handle the intense pressure you were feeling. You let out multiple moans as his speed increased faster and faster.

It's almost like he was playing a game, seeing how loud he can make you scream.

You quickly glanced at him, he had a cheesy grin as he watched your face. Admiring how beautiful you looked, especially the face your were making from his touch. Your cheeks were red and you could feel how sweaty both of you were getting.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You said struggling to get the words out. This motivated him to go even faster. You kept thinking he couldn't go faster but he did and it made you go mental.

You felt a knot in your stomach and your legs begin to shake. He noticed how unstable you were and held onto your waist tighter, trying to hold you up.

"Next time, I'm gonna ram into you harder." He whispered in your ear as you finally felt yourself release all over his fingers and you let out an extremely loud scream.

"Hey! Is everything oka- oh my god, I'm so sorry." You looked as a random stranger stood behind Harry, quickly shielding his eyes and walked away.

You quickly stood up straight, still slightly weak in your legs as he pulled his fingers out.

"Got my fingers drenched." He chuckled as he looked you in the eyes slowly sucking on his fingers making you admire how handsome he looked.

You rolled your eyes as he was completely unphased by the stranger.

"Next time, I'll please you like this." You looked up as you planted another kiss on his lips.

[melliemell]

Pairing: Dazai x f!reader

Contents: mostly SFW, first date with Dazai, making out at uncomfortable places yet again, CW for Dazai-typical discussions of suicide, nothing too graphic; fluff and cheekiness in full. Approx 2k.

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

There it was again. The stare.

You moved about the food on your plate, feigning ignorance to Dazai’s gaze from the other side of the table. He’s been doing this more often in the past hour than your entire date. It got you wondering what on earth you did to get that switch up. He struck you as the airheaded type, at least at first. 

First dates as a general rule were rather awkward, as common sense points out. Even more so when said guy was a complete stranger you happened to bump into on the street. Dazai did have that effortless charm about him though, and you found yourself saying yes before you registered you’d just agreed to taking him out on a date. 

You. You taking him. 

He had a way with words, that you couldn’t deny.

And now, a second iced tea in and genuinely enjoying yourself, it was easy to see how that happened. From the constant flow of conversation to the rather peculiar sense of humour– yeah, he might be a little weird.

 A bit. 

Okay, a lot. 

But learning the effects of mushroom poisoning wasn’t all that boring. The contrary, actually. But it definitely had to do with Dazai’s ability to disarm any situation of its soberness. You found yourself relaxing into the evening with no worries over figuring out how to come up with escape plans. 

You were sticking this one out. Even if you’d probably be the one paying for dinner.

A faint tapping caught your attention.

“Aw, you’re not paying attention to me,” Dazai said, pouting. He clung his fork against his plate again, looking rather dejected enough to make you feel sad for him. “My lady doesn’t see me worthy of her precious time. Gah, what pains!”

You raised a brow. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?” You wondered how quickly he could switch between emotions. The look from earlier was completely gone.

“So are lots of people around us.” He loomed in closer, eyes glinting with only trouble. “But I keep my attention on the really cute ones.”

Ah, a charmer indeed. Hmm. Let’s see then…

“Do you, now? In fact–” You looked around innocently, weighing your options before settling on a table to Dazai’s back. A smile crept on your lips and you pointed discreetly. “–I’ve always been more of an admirer of elegant appeal than ‘cuteness’, to be honest.” 

“Oh?” 

You sipped your tea patiently as Dazai threw a carefree glance over his shoulder to the woman sitting not far from him. Nothing stood out at first glance, but the way she carried the simple, yet classy dress was enough to give you a double take. It was a stark contrast to the rest of you here.

The restaurant you were in did not have any dress code; it was far from those high-end establishments that required such frivolity.

The low woah that left Dazai’s lips was pretty much on point. It was almost like seeing a poorly disguised celebrity on a random Wednesday. 

Dazai hummed. “I see, I see.” He rested a cheek on his knuckles. “Sad to hear, though. You have a lot more fun with cuties! I have a coworker who’s very tidied up. He’s pretty fun to vex, but it’s almost impossible to free him from that stick up his ass. What a shame.”

“So I should go for the fun ones?” 

“I hear it’s good to mingle with like-minded people,” Dazai said, and winked. 

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that. I’m rather ‘tidied’ too, And if it comes with being seen as classy– I don’t mind.” You didn’t feel embarrassed by this. Too much adventure tends to stress you out more often than not. It was a miracle you even went on this date to begin with. But the look on Dazai’s face made you pause.

“Whaat? Pshh,” he waved a hand dismissively. A small glint of mischief flashed in his eyes, making you narrow yours in distrust. “Your modesty is making my heart flutter, here–”

He reached forward, clasping your hand into his before resting it against his chest. His vest felt warm, the wool grazing at your fingertips gently.

You blinked, face blank. “You know I can’t feel anything through–”

“Oh my,” Dazai said, that cheeky smile reappearing. He leaned closer, tone low, “I will admit, this is a bit straightforward; I’m quite shy. But… when a beautiful woman hints at wishing to undress me, and publicly I might add, then–”

Your face heated up. “What? No– nono, you just–,” you hissed, your other hand flying to cover the already spreading flush on your cheeks, and Dazai laughed heartedly.

“See? Told you you were a cutie,” he said, cocking his head. He squeezed your hand, showing no signs of letting go anytime soon. 

“And you’re too much,” you said, eyes peeking from spread fingers. 

“Maybe I need the guiding hand of a good honest samaritan.”

“So long as you don’t lead them to a heart attack first,” you said, cheeks still red.

“Aw, man.” Dazai wrinkled his nose. “That doesn’t sound fun at all. Too uncomfortable for my tastes. Did you know some heart attacks could last for hours? Bleh.”

“Add a comfy bed there in the mix and I’d agree. Heart attacks suck,” you said, and immediately drew slightly back as Dazai all but bore his gaze into you, eyes wide. You weren’t expecting that level of attention… and that stare from earlier. The fleeting one; it was back. 

This man was curious indeed.

There was a moment where no one spoke, Dazai not breaking eye contact with you as you blinked back at him. Then– the sound of wood scraping on floor reached your ears as Dazai scooped his chair closer, crouching close enough to you to feel his body heat. His thigh was flush against yours.

“Please,” Dazai began, “share with me what you meant by needing a bed. How would you like to leave this so dreadful world? Do you have opinions on carbon monoxide?”

You looked down at your seating. “Uhh.” 

Your brain blanked. It was a sudden change, and you were sure you had struck an interesting chord. Dazai nodded his head, beckoning you to share, but your focus was slowly seeping away, replaced by the newfound knowledge that Dazai’s hair was actually probably dark auburn, not chestnut,  and not as straight as you assumed. Or maybe it was the light. Might be. 

It looked floppy too. The type that glides smoothly through your fingers. 

You snapped back, sudden and quick. “Carbon what? Yes, no– I mean, I– like sleeping? Doesn’t sound bad to just drift off in the middle of it.”

Dazai nodded again. He was way too invested in this. “I see. a bit old-fashioned, but I respect that. Very Victorian of you.” 

“Yeah, and you strike me as the obnoxious type. Quiet and peaceful doesn’t ring quite as accurately,” you said casually. You’ve had weirder discussions with your close friends. This wasn’t all too outside your calibre. 

Dazai cradled his chin in his hand, striking a rather silly pose as he pondered this over. “I have said before I’d rather go out with a bang, hah. I am a man of my word, but if a beauty like you were to offer…”

You patted Dazai on the cheek. “Buckle up, clown man. We’re too young for that. Ask me again in, hmm, 60 years? No, make it 70, I’m an overachiever.”

A low whistle left Dazai’s lips, and he flopped back dramatically on the back of his chair. “Time is excruciating! Oh, to wait so long, my frail heart.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a baby.”

Dazai stuck out his tongue. 

Insufferable. Yet endearing. Keeping back your smiles was becoming harder and harder. Dazai didn’t need a confidence boost like that. Not when he leaned closer every time he made a remark, or when he listened to you intently as you rattled on about your shitty day job last summer or how you missed living at home with your mom’s cooking and her daily gossips. He wasn’t as obnoxious as you thought. 

Okay, maybe a little. 

At some point his hand came to rest over your knee, index finger looping lazy circles on your thigh. You didn’t remember giving him permission to do that, but… somehow, losing that contact wasn’t something you wanted. You leaned into it, catching the quick grin that formed on Dazai���s lips.

It wasn’t long before he had you completely wrapped around his finger, the pair of you stumbling out into the late evening filled with too much giddiness and anticipation. There wasn’t a drop of alcohol in your system yet your mind felt light, barely registering the walk back to your car. 

Dazai sprinted a bit ahead, bowing at the waist as he held the door open for you. “My lady, allow me.”

You snorted as you climbed into the driver’s seat. “Very smooth, but if this is your way of pleading for a ride… hmm, wasn’t the subway that way?”

“Aww, you’ll leave me stranded here, and all alone.” 

 Big brown eyes and a pout to kill for, Dazai was pulling the sympathy card like a champ. You weren’t gonna let him so easy, though. “Aren’t you a big boy? I’m sure you can manage.”

He bent down, resting on the lowered window. “I take it I didn’t win you over? Bummer. And I thought we were having a great time.”

“We were. But I learned something new about myself today.”

Dazai perked. “My my, and what is that?”

“You’re too fun to torment. I like that in a man.”

“Cruel,” Dazai said. “I’m way more fun to cuddle.”

You came closer, watching to see Dazai’s body language. He did not budge from his position, his attention fully drawn to you. He was needy for attention; it wasn’t hard to draw that conclusion, but giving in so fast wasn’t your style. Just a small pinch then, maybe…

“Hmm,” you said, twirling a loose strand of Dazai’s hair around your finger. He leaned in closer. “We’ll see.”

You had but a second to glance at his lips before Dazai captured yours. Your hands raised instinctively, cupping his face and you pulled him closer, earning a yelp as Dazai nearly lost his footing before he grabbed at the window frame. You paid that no mind, too busy. 

You didn’t expect Dazai to be a shy kisser; after the sudden moment of quick passion– you found him slowly working your lips together. Chaste and sweet, before he coaxed your mouth open with his. You swallowed his quiet sigh of contentment as his tongue explored yours, felt him running a hand through your hair to settle back at your neck, beckoning you closer.

Not that you could. It was getting hard to breathe, or you just forgot how to. You weren’t sure. 

“Stop, stop,” you whispered in between kisses. “We should really stop, Dazai.”

“2 more hours, please.”

You both laughed, and it was followed by a gentle nib at your lower lip before you lost yourself in him again. 

The world blurred, forgotten, as heat settled between your legs. It always marveled you– how nothing seemed to be enough in those moments. the only thought was more, more, more.

You wanted more. 

“Enough,” you said suddenly, hands pushing at Dazai’s shoulders. He had almost crawled inside your car, through the fucking window.

Dazai blinked at you, still a bit dazed. His pupils were blown wide, teeth grazing his lower lip as he tried to lean subconsciously in again. “You have really round cheeks, did you know that? Cute. Why is everything about you cute?” 

“Yeah?” You set your key in place, starting the engine. “You can make me a list later. Come on.” You patted the seat beside you.

“Wait–” Dazai beamed at you “–does this mean I get to be your passenger princess?”

“Not if you don’t hurry.” The car moved slightly forward in warning, Dazai’s grin widening as he scurried to the other side.

This wasn’t how you planned your night to go but… as Dazai sat down beside you, belt secured and giving you a thumbs up with both hands, well, you could only shake your head with amusement. 

He sure was something. 

Might as well see where this goes…

[afterglowsainz]

Spotify special- Pepe marti with #27

p.s. I love all your work!!! 💓💓💓

why’d i have to break what i love so much? | pepe marti

song; afterglow - taylor swift

a/n: thank you so much!! 🤍

part of the spotify wrapped special

Sometimes you wondered if there was a way to cure self-sabotage. And if there was, what would you have to give to heal yourself?

You didn’t understand why this always happened. Why, whenever you were in a relationship and things were going well, you felt the need to ruin it. You knew you deserved to be happy, so why couldn’t you allow it? Why did you always have to mess it up? You always did something, always blew things out of proportion, always started arguments, to the point where other people just couldn’t keep forgiving you. And so, you stayed alone.

Pepe had never given you any reason to doubt him; he was so good to you, so loyal and honest. Sometimes you felt like he was too good for you. Or was that just your insecurity taking over? No, he was too good for you. Or was he exactly the right person for you? God, why did you always have to doubt everything? He was literally the best boyfriend anyone could ask for, and here you were, arguing with him because you thought he was flirting with a girl at a race.

“She was just a fan; she only wanted a picture,” the Spaniard defended himself for the third time.

“I don’t believe you,” you said, even though halfway through the argument, you realized you might be coming across as crazy. But you had to stick to your point; you couldn’t back down so easily.

Pepe didn’t see it the same way.

“Alright, think whatever you want, y/n,” he sighed, tired. “I’ve already told you what happened. When you calm down and want to talk, I’ll be in my room.”

He walked out of your room and into his, and you instantly regretted letting him go. You regretted starting the fight—regretted everything. Why did you have to punish him for your own insecurities? Why couldn’t you just be happy?

One cup of coffee and two episodes of Gossip Girl later, you knew you had to apologize. You hadn’t been fair to him; you almost never were. You didn’t know where he found the willpower to forgive you and stay with you when he could’ve left long ago. But you were grateful he stayed. You loved him.

When you knocked on his door, he answered in his pajamas and invited you in. The moment he closed the door behind you, you couldn’t hold back your words.

“I’m really sorry about what happened,” you began. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I… I never mean to hurt you or make you feel bad. It’s all me, really—it’s all in my head, and I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this to you. I don’t want to lose this with you.” Your nerves made you stutter, and seeing his furrowed brow made you even more nervous. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Pepe didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into one of the hugs you loved so much.

“I know,” he said, kissing your head. “I know you’re sorry, and of course, I forgive you.” You let out a sigh of relief at his words. “I’ll always be yours, y/n. We’ll be okay, even if you go a little crazy sometimes.” You playfully hit his chest at that comment, and he laughed. “I know what’s going on with you, and I know it’s not your fault, but you’re everything I want. Even if you break my heart sometimes, I’m not going anywhere.”

He cupped your cheeks and sealed his words with a kiss full of reassurance.

Screw self-sabotaging—this was the real thing.

[a-minke-whales-tale]

The Zoanthrope "Exodus" and P-shifter discourse

There has been a fair amount of talk lately about a zoanthrope exodus, which is particularly ironic timing given Passover starts next week. I do not think there is actually a zoanthrope exodus, not because zoanthropes are not getting fed up with how we are treated and people deciding to not call themselves therian anymore or post in therian spaces, but because this is not new, this is not sudden, and it is not all at once.

Length: 1834 words TW: sanism

I have written a fair few times now about how the therian community has treated myself and others. I for years did not feel comfortable to call myself therian. I existed in therian spaces but I was an interloper. I stayed in therian spaces because I felt really I had no where else and because some places did tolerate me in time. However there was always a price for being tolerated, that being "the dance" - in which I would have to make clear my delusions, make clear that I was seeing a doctor, and minimise the validity of my own experiences and often reassure -real- therians their experiences were different from mine and real.

I have not met terribly many other zoanthropes through the past decade or so. I have met a few here and there but our interactions were always fleeting. Few would stick around in therian communities because of how we are treated. The endless demands to explain your delusion or censor yourself, people would always come and go. I have met a couple zoanthropes that just would not talk about their experiences so they could hide among therians and have the limited community they were allowed. I have also met zoanthropes that existed in P-shifter communities rather than therian communities because they simply were not allowed to exist in therian communities.

The therian community has long tried to "protect" itself and root out P-shifters to a point of zealotry. To be honest I do not care to reclaim the term P-shifter, but I can understand why many would want to. P-shifter or accusations of being a P-shifter have been used against zoanthropes for as long as I have been in the community. It becomes a demand to kowtow and reality check yourself and deny any of your experiences as real or genuine and that they are delusion. And then from there it would be decided if you were allowed to stay in the community or be removed anyway. Accusations of P-shifter have been used for a long time to downplay or deny the experiences of zoanthropes and remove us from spaces that we are ostensibly supposed to belong to. To very many therians, your experience being from "delusion" makes the experience much less valid, despite that under certain circumstances their own identity could easily be declared delusion.

People say and tell me that P-shifters are dangerous and are a cult and how P-shifters hurt and abuse others. I have to wonder though if that is "inherently all P-shifters" or just a perception because of who and what people talk about. There have been many times in many discourses that the opposing side becomes flanderised into this horrible abusive monster or are considered deeply problematic or inherently harmful - shipping discourse, syscourse, radqueers, MLs vs anarchists, etc. I have no doubt that there are P-shifters that have deeply hurt and damaged other people, but this is something that many I have talked to acknowledge and understand. Some people say that the term never was applicable to delusional people, but then I have heard the same thing about 'therian' from many therians, a statement I know does not represent -all- therians. And I should ask as well, what about those zoanthropes who would not or could not double bookkeep? How many of them may have found themselves in P-shifter communities and associated themselves with that? Of the dozen or so zoanthropes I know, it is two or three.

At least for myself, my relationship with therians has been more abusive and done more damage to me than my interaction with P-shifters. It does really become an abusive relationship where I am reinforced over and over how those people over there are dangerous, how they would hurt and abuse me and how here is the only place that I can be tolerated so long as I know that I am lesser than they are and not a -real- therian. I never interacted with those communities until around a year ago because of what I was told, and those that I have interacted with, do in many ways remind me of my own experiences, and many of them have been far more accepting than therians.

People often say that we should find a different word and that it is really about the word and nothing else. But it isn't; it was never about the word and it was never about the problematic individuals. Whenever the topic of P-shifters come up there is almost always this same question of "why are [CLCZs] accepted in the community but P-shifters are not?" The answer always comes down to that we (CLCZs) acknowledge our experience as delusion, while P-shifters do not or that we do not make claims about "Capital-R reality". If it was truly the problem being that it was the word P-shifter, the response would not be relating to or predicated on our ability to double bookkeep. It would be something like "that word has a lot of baggage, [X] have similar experiences but are not associated with that community".

The core of us being tolerable among therians was -always- the minimisation of our experiences. It has -always- been sanism. What happens to those who cannot double bookkeep? They are labled P-shifter, demonised and expelled. Even if we can double bookkeep we might still be expelled. I have had it happen to me, and it would not surprise me if many other zoanthropes have had similar experiences.

I personally do not wish to reclaim the term P-shifter for myself. For how I have been treated by others I do not feel attachment or desire towards the term and it still gives me a bit of discomfort in the way some other reclaimed slurs do. However, I can understand why some people would want to reclaim the term. For some it might be reclaiming a slur, for others being allowed to exist in both communities at once or allowing others like them to be acceptable in the community, for others it might be that making P-shifter acceptable means that they can express their experiences wholley without the demand for double bookkeeping. If you want to accept the full range of therian experiences, you cannot exclude a group of people simply because they cannot double-bookkeep or cannot realiy check themselves.

There is a particular irony over this whole discussion, in that people supporting the inclusion and destigmatisation of the term P-shifter and by and large CLCZs, Endels, and holotheres - groups either directly claiming their identity is associated with delusion or who others often associate with it. Many of the people opposing it almost always include how P-shifters harm delusional people and claim it an effort to protect others. Delusional people are not incapable to protect ourselves, we are not incapable to reason or make decisions for ourselves, and we are not incapable of seeing how others around us or what they think of us, nor are we incapable to see the harm others do to us under the promise of help, protection, and good intentions. So often in these discussions mad people are spoken over, silenced, or dismissed by "sane" people. The level of sanism that pervades every aspect of therianthropy is honestly extremely disheartening, and ironic for a group of "wierd animal people" that plenty of outside society thinks are lunatics.

In the past couple years there have been points when CLCZs were becoming more acceptable and more tolerable, there were even points a couple years ago I did feel finally I could call myself therian and that I could be genuinely part of the community. Even when I started posting on tumblr again there was really very little available and that was only around a year ago. Since then I have met and interacted with more zoanthropes than I had in the 8 years before. I have also been able to get to know some zoanthropes like Sonar/Dune and Ike particularly well. The feeling of not being alone is wonderful. But with our increased visibility and acceptance came ironically with more harassment and more negative posts about us. So many of the various discourses on therian tumblr wind up surrounding us in some way. I am pretty insulated from things in my bubble of mostly other zoanthropes, so I only really see something if a mutual reblogs it, and still it is so regular I read comments how we are dangerous or should not be included for various reasons. If you go to that therian confessions blog you will see so many comments about those like me. All these discourses do is again remind me of how much we are not wanted and not accepted by the broader community. Several months ago I took off my theta-delta necklace for the last time, and it has been hanging on my shelf since. I had gotten two, one for myself and one for my companion. They still wear theirs all the time but for me I simply do not feel represented by the symbol or welcome by it (even if I did replace the cord that was irritating my neck). My companion tries to reassure me that I do belong, and I am welcome in therian spaces and that my experiences with transformation -are- therian experiences or even more than normal therians. Others will try to reassure me that I am therian because I fall under their definition (and some even demanding I do), it is however to me not reassuring. Definitions and labels are much more about community than strict definition as there are plenty of labels people could claim me under. Still I have attachment to the therian community, and I want to see it grow to be what its ideals claim it is. It is honestly a lot of why I write these long emotional pieces, that others like me might not feel so alone, and that hopefully I can convince others and help the therian community to become what it promises it is. Although I feel continuously rejected by the therian community and as an outsider and interloper I do really hope someday we can -be- therians and not treated differently to others.

There is not an exodus, as none of this is new - nothing in how we are treated is new - and zoanthropes getting fed up and leaving communities is not new - the only thing that is new is for once we are visible enough you can actually see it. ~Kala

[obsessedwithceleste]

Flowers

soft! Mattheo Riddle x reader

Summary: You just wanted your boyfriend to buy you flowers. He got a bit confused along the way.

word count: 1.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

You’d never been the type of person who particularly enjoyed flashy, grand gestures. In fact, the mere thought of all eyes on you as a boy professed his undying love for you made you want to toss yourself off of the astronomy tower. And yet, here you were, watching as Lorenzo Berkshire presented your best friend, Daphne Greengrass, with yet another huge bouquet of gorgeous flowers and wishing your own boyfriend would do the same.

You let out a soft sigh, glancing at your boyfriend whose arm was wrapped securely around your shoulders as the two of you lounged on the sofa in the library. Matteo wasn’t a bad boyfriend by any means. Really, you loved the way he showered you in attention, always eager to please. However, he wasn’t exactly up to speed when it came to romantic gestures. Normally you didn’t mind, but every one wanted to be treated like royalty sometimes you supposed.

“Oh Enz, these are beautiful!” Daphne gushed, giving her boyfriend a peck on the lips as he smiled adoringly down at her.

“Anything for you love,” the boy replies easily, taking the seat next to her, and pulling her in so that she was leaning into him.

“Geez, get a bloody room would you?” Theodore complains as the two cozy up together.

You roll your eyes at your friend. “Shut it Theo, I think it’s sweet.” You then turn to your own boyfriend. “You know Matteo, Enz gets Daphne flowers every week. I wish you did that.”

Matteo’s eyebrows shoot up and he gives you a confused look.

“Really?” He asks.

You nod earnestly. “I think it’d be nice.”

Matteo gives you another concerned glance before shrugging his shoulders.

“Alright, love.” He says, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

You smile warmly at the boy, resting your head on his shoulder before continuing your reading for ancient runes.

“I’m proud of you for finally sticking up for yourself, y/n.” Daphne says, placing her bag down as she takes a seat next to you in the Great Hall.

“Oh? What chapter did we miss?” Pansy asks from across the table where she and Astoria sat.

You furrow your eyebrows, also confused as to where Daph was going with this.

“In the library this afternoon, y/n finally got on Matt’s case about how he never does anything romantic for them. I mean, you’ve been together for what? Almost a year? And I don’t think I’ve ever seen him bring you flowers. Not once!” Daphne says, filling her plate.

“Oh. I mean, I really don’t mind all that much to be honest. You and Enzo just always look so sweet, I thought it’d be nice for a change. I don’t really expect him to do it every week like Enzo does,” you reply.

“See, but it’s the principle of it all isn’t it? Of course I like the fact that Draco is constantly buying me random gifts, but I would be fine without them. It’s that he’s thinking of me, and taking a bit of time to go out of his way to show me that, yeah?” Astoria says.

You tilt your head, considering your friend’s words.

“I suppose I never thought of it like that,” you tell her.

“Well you should. The bloody bullshit we put up with dating those boys, buying us nice things is really the least they can do,” she replies.

You let out a snort, laughing at your friend’s candidness.

As if to illustrate her point, the rowdy laughter of the boys could be heard from the entrance as they made their way over to your table. You frown as Matteo takes his usual place beside you, seeing a fresh cut on his cheekbone.

“Matteo Bartholomew Riddle.” You sigh, reaching up to touch his face.

“Bartholomew? Bloody hell mate, I’d have to avada myself with a middle name like that,” Draco laughs, plopping down next to Astoria.

He doesn’t even flinch as your finger tips make contact with the cut, only sighing as he glares at Draco before looking down at you with his large puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck off Lucius. And you know that isn’t even my middle name, love,” he says, reaching across the table to steal a roll from Theo’s plate.

“Well you won’t tell me your real one, so I’ll continue making up ridiculous ones until then. Now what on earth did you get up to now, and how many days of detention did you get?”

Matteo frowns, jutting out his bottom lip at you.

“What makes you so sure I got a detention?”

You raise an unimpressed eyebrow at the boy.

“Three days. With McGonagall.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head and turn back to face Astoria whose face practically read ‘you see what I mean?’

“Man got into a scuffle with some Hufflepuff. Swear those yellow bastards look unassuming but they’re demons,” Theo says filling you and the other girls in.

Matteo glares at his friend.

“Snitch,” he mumbles, stuffing the roll into his mouth.

“Like they weren't going to find out anyway,” Theo replies, brushing him off.

Once again rolling your eyes at your boyfriend, you focus on finishing your meal, listening to the idle chatter of your friends as Matteo’s hand finds yours under the table.

By the following week, you had all but forgotten your request for your boyfriend to bring you flowers. When you saw Matteo enter the Great Hall with a large bouquet of assorted flowers however, a smile grew across your face. Then, your smile wavered slightly, growing into confusion as Matteo made his way to the other side of the table, tapping Daphne on the shoulder.

Daphne and Enzo look back at Matteo with utter confusion as your boyfriend thrusts the flowers towards your friend.

“Uh. Here.” He says awkwardly as the two stare up at him with bewilderment.

You blink once. Then twice before Daphne breaks the silence.

“Matteo, respectfully, what the fuck?” She asks.

“Look, I don’t know either. I’m just as confused as you are,” Matteo says, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

You look incredulously between your boyfriend, the flowers, and finally Daphne before realization hits you and your head drops into your hand. This bloody idiot.

“Matteo. Love. When I said, Enzo brings Daphne flowers every week, you should too, I meant for me. As in, you should bring me flowers too,” you say with exasperation. Lord help you.

Matteo’s mouth forms an ‘o’ before he smiles sheepishly at you, rounding the table and now thrusting the flowers towards you.

“For you, my love,” he says proudly.

You let out a laugh, accepting the flowers as your boyfriend takes his seat next to you.

“Matt you are so lucky y/n puts up with your shit,” Daphne sighs, shaking her head fondly at the two of you.

“But also, ever try giving my girl flowers again and I’ll curse your bed. I know where you sleep.” Enzo adds.

“Yeah, yeah, I ain’t scared of you Berkshire you big softie.”

“I’ll Avada you.”

“I’d write you letters in Azkaban.” Daphne says sweetly as the boys continue to throw threats each other’s way.

You shake your head at your friend’s antics, smiling softly as your fingers grazed the soft petals of the flowers your boyfriend had finally presented you with.

“Thank you Matteo,” you say, briefly interrupting the boy’s loud chattering to place a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek.

I know this is so short, but I’ve been wanting to write this scene for the longest time, and couldn’t find a way to fit it into a longer fic 🫠

[valardohaeriss]

Picture you 2 - C.S

It's me again...and I'm back. Anyways here we go with part two. just ask if you want to be a part of the tag list.

pairing: Modern Cregan Stark x fem!Reader

warnings: none

"Do you picture me like I picture you?"

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

"So tell me about this guy that you want to ask you to formal." Cregan asks as he lays on your bed and throws a ball up at the ceiling. You sat at your desk, distracting yourself with homework, something Cregan should be doing. You closed your eyes at his question, hoping to find a quick lie.

"I mean, he's cool." was all you could squeeze out. Cool? that was it. C'mon, if you were going to lie, you have to think of a better one than that. "Cool?" Cregan asked with a cocked eyebrow as he sat himself up. You could feel his stare in the back of your head. You turned to look at him and threw one arm over the back of the chair. The minute you looked at him, all of the adjectives you needed came to your mind.

"Fine, he's smart, very smart. He doesn't give himself enough credit for it. He's tall, He's kind, even though he probably doesn't think of himself that way. He's the type of person that if you didn't have anything, he'd give you the shirt off of his own back." You said in one breath. It didn't take much for you to describe your feelings for Cregan.

He looked at you, shocked at your feelings. He didn't know you felt this strongly about someone. He didn't even really know you liked people like that. "Wow." was all he could say. You rolled your eyes and turned around. "What's his name?" He asked you.

You clenched the pen in your hand, mentally cursing yourself. "Does it matter?" you asked. "He doesn't feel the same way, I really should just drop it. I'll just go to formal for Baela. It was her idea anyway." you continued on. Cregan threw the ball at your back in a playful manner. "What was that for?" you turned around and asked him. All he could do was chuckle and cross his arms. "We're going to get him to ask you out. You don't know how he feels about you. Trust me, I know guys. He's probably thinking the same thing you are. You just have to talk to him."

Boy he was not making this any easier. If he looked close enough at you, you swore he could have either seen a vein in your head or your eye twitch. "Cregan, please. Drop it. I'll just stick with Baela the whole time."

"You can't stick with Baela, Baela will be with Jace." he stated, and he had a point. How were you going to be looking for the mystery guy, when the mystery guy himself was sitting on your bed. "I know what I'll do," he started. "I'll get Jace to help me out. We'll get you this guy on a date in no time."

You could have thrown up. He was already pulling out his phone to text Jace about it. Now not only did you spin this little lie, you've spun it into a web with people. The only thing was you had no idea how to get out.

Baela...

Yes Baela would help you. She was your ride or die, and surely she'd know what to do.

"Hey, look, I'll see you later. Jace and I are going to meet up. He said something about Baela coming over here anyways so I'll let you have your time with her. But seriously, you should keep me updated on this guy. You won't be single for long." he winks at you and you could have melted.

"Idiot"...you thought. "You smart, handsome, kind man...but what an idiot"

----

"So you mean to tell me... you spun this little lie, and you expect me to help you out of it?" Baela asks you as you just explained your situation with Cregan, that has at this point, gone a little too far. "Baela, please, he plans on getting Jace in on this too and I don't know how to explain that the person they have been looking for this whole time has been Cregan himself." you sighed and cradled your head in your hands.

"You should have just been honest with him. Why weren't you?" she asked, pulling your arms away from you. "Because I know he doesn't feel the same. So I might as well get over it now. I'm trying, but now I'm stuck. I wish I would have just not said anything at all." You groaned. Truly, you wish you would had just said you weren't going to go and everything was fine and left it at that. Then you wouldn't be here. But no, you ran your mouth, getting a bit too comfortable.

"How about, I find out how he actually feels and we ease our way into this. I'll be your actual wingwoman." She smiled at you and for a second, you had hope that this would all be resolved. You could get over Cregan and continue on like nothing ever happened.

---

Baela sat next to Jace and Cregan at the dining hall. Cregan and Jace were having their typical conversations as usual, until Jace had to leave for his next class, that left him and Baela together. Now washer chance to move forward. "Cregan? What's this I hear about you helping y/n get a date to formal?"

Cregan smirked and stopped packing his things. "Yeah, she told me about this guy that she likes, and she must really like him. I mean she smiles every time she talks about him. She just won't tell me what his name is or anything. She thinks he doesn't feel the same, but she said he was going to be at the formal, so I was planning on finding him and talking to him myself. A wingman kind of thing, ya know?" He beamed, proud of his plan.

Baela tried hard not to drop her smile. She could not believe this guy. How could he not know it was him. "How do you feel about that?" She asked him. He hadn't been asked that before and it caused his brows to furrow. "I don't think I'm following?"

"How do you feel knowing that you're helping her find someone else?" Baela smirked. Cregan hadn't thought about it. He was more concerned with helping you be happy than he was his own feelings. He cared about you, and if helping you find someone else made you happy, then he'd do it. "Baela, this isn't about me." He deflected as he started to pack his things.

"Cregan, have you talked to Jace about her? I mean about how you feel about her?" She asked him. He hadn't, he hadn't told anyone. It didn't matter to him, he knew you didn't feel the same way. Clearly, to him, you were on the hunt for someone else. Someone that obviously made you smile bigger than he ever has.

His silence answered Baela's question. "I think you need to talk to her before formal. You have two days. I would do it. Don't let this go on any further." She advised him. Cregan shook his head not taking her advice. To his knowledge, you didn't bat an eye at him. He wasn't going to let his feelings get in the way of your happiness, that would be selfish. That is something he was not.

"I'm serious, Cregan. It's worth the shot." Baela said one last time before leaving for home. Cregan had a lot to think about. Did he tell you how he felt? Did he ruin his friendship with you for the sake of feelings? Did he block your happiness with someone else for the sake of his own? He couldn't. So he wouldn't.

[squidhominid]

The Wounds that Got Me Here: A story about my experience working for Lockstin

I have a story that I want to tell. A story I've told some people, in bits and pieces, but never really fully written out before. Given who the story involves, what their reputation is, I don't expect it to be fully believable. And because of that, I've spent years debating telling it. Afraid of being judged, of not being believed, of people thinking I'm just trying to tear someone down. I'm afraid people will think I'm overreacting, that what I experienced is 'just how the business works'. I'm afraid that they might be right.

But no matter what people think, it's the truth. I lived it. And I'm finally ready to share it, I think.

Not because I want to cancel anyone, this isn't a call-out post, but so I can share my story and heal.

CWs: discussion of underpaid creative work and inappropriate content involving minors

The story starts in late 2017, during Sac Gamers Expo. I had heard that Arlo had somehow gotten hold of copies of the Splatoon 2 Sound Selection vinyl, an extremely rare piece of Splatoon merchandise even now, originally only sent to members of the gaming press, and was giving them out. I was an avid collector of modern vinyl, as well as an avid Splatoon fan, and had been trying to track a copy down ever since it was known they existed. I begged my dad, desperately, to take me, even though it was a hell of a drive from San Diego to Sacramento, and, once I communicated to him just how rare this was and just how much I wanted it, he agreed.

While I was there, I had the chance to meet Lockstin, a YouTuber who I was a huge fan of at the time. Knowing he'd done a Splatoon video recently, and knowing his channel had gotten its initial start doing Game Theory counterpoint videos, I urged him to do a 'are Inklings actually made of ink' video, given this was a sticking point in the fandom, as well as due to personal frustration with MatPat for his 'are Inklings kids or squids' video. I saw value in trying to discuss the 'actual question', rather than the question MatPat had asked, in the process hopefully clarifying a widespread lore misconception, and I thought it was a topic his channel would do justice.

He said he'd think about it.

A month or two later I messaged him on Discord, asking if he had given it any more thought. He admitted that he didn't know anything about Splatoon, that his previous attempt to write on the games hadn't performed well, and that, and this isn't an exact quote, 'if I wanted to see it made, I'd have to write it myself', meaning I could write the script and sell it to him.

The Splatoon video they had done by that point, to be honest, was terrible. It was extremely poorly researched, and took what was in-universe meant to be propaganda, information from an unreliable narrator, at face value, building its thesis on the idea Grizzco presents to the player that Salmonids were just dumb animals. I knew that, if things were really this dire, I had to do this. I had to 'right the wrong' that was the quality of Lockstin's Splatoon content. So I took him up on his offer. We made a handshake deal, that I would write scripts for a cut of ad revenue. What 'a cut of ad revenue' meant, what percentage it would be, a payment schedule, none of it was ever specified. Just 'a cut of ad revenue'.

It took around a month of workshopping after that, but once I had a solid idea for a first video, I threw myself into the work. For two weeks, during my computer science lectures at community college, rather than paying attention to the lectures I'd be researching for the video I was writing. Two weeks of work.

I made $89. And in the meantime, I got some…pointed messages from friends.

See, for the thumbnail, he used key art from Octo Expansion. It had just been announced a couple months prior, so he probably thought it would grab attention, even though it wasn't really related to the topic of the video.

The problem was what art he used, and how he used it.

He had put, front and center, Agent 8, a canonically 16 year old character, in a piece of art showing her with splotches of ink on her. Except, he had photoshopped the ink splotches to be white. And then he added key art of Cap'n Cuttlefish from Octo Expansion, lurking in the background, positioned such to look like he was looking at Agent 8.

People who knew I had the gig, who I had excitedly told I was working for Lockstin, blamed me for the thumbnail. I told them I had nothing to do with it. I confronted Lockstin, since the original thumbnail he showed me before the video went up didn't have the 'white ink' edit. His response? To attribute the video's success partially to the thumbnail, and that he "could always swap it real quick if it [got] out of hand".

He never did. The white ink thumbnail is still up, to this day. And this wasn't an isolated incident; he has a pattern even now, years later, of using sexual clickbait in his thumbnails, because it's what 'works'. Even though the videos really don't need it. Even though, in my opinion, they're undermined by it.

In the time following that, I built a small team of Splatoon lore obsessive friends to work on the videos together. And Lockstin came to me with a question. He had a long-running series on his channel, 'Why do X have breasts', meant to analyze and apply actual scientific reasoning to humanity's propensity to put breasts on non-human and even non-mammalian characters, and he wanted to know if I could think of a way to make that work for Splatoon. I initially turned the idea down, saying I couldn't think of a way to make it work. Until someone on his Discord server came to me with the seed of an idea, and me and my team started mulling it over, and I realized that I had a way to turn the topic into something else.

Something that took the idea of 'Why do X have breasts', the sexualization, the clear fetishization by people who wanted to see that video made, and turn it on its head.

I came up with a theory merging female empowerment with body horror, something I thought would be unsettling to those who showed up for sexual gratification. The idea that the breasts were really musculature around the ink sac, enabling female Inklings and Octolings to be superior fighters in a society that, even in canon, seems to be dominated by strong women.

Of course, people didn't see it that way. I forgot, or perhaps was even baited into by the member on his Discord server, that people with buff-women fetishes would find that take on the idea more exciting than disconcerting. That's something I'm not proud of, even if I'm proud of, overall, snatching female empowerment from the jaws of misogyny.

The video made me $60. Even less, because I split the money between me and my collaborators. In the years since, this has become the best performing of all of the videos I wrote for the channel.

In the meantime, he came to me asking if I would be willing to work on non-Splatoon content, floated to me an idea he'd been workshopping about making a channel focused on western animation. He wanted to keep me on as a writer, even as it was clear Splatoon content wasn't as lucrative, for me or for him, as the other work his channel was doing. I told him I wasn't sure, but offered a Steven Universe theory that I had written the year prior, for a channel that never happened. His response was that he didn't want to involve himself in that fandom for drama reasons, which I agreed with, and we never spoke again about it.

Next, I was told that I had to write a video under a strict deadline; they had a sponsorship from Splatoon Amino, and the video had to be done by a certain date. Me and one of my collaborators, also credited on the end card alongside me, cranked out a video on why Inklings and Octolings die in water. It didn't perform amazingly, but I still made… $92. More than I expected, and I chalked this up to the sponsorship. Again, I split the money, because I felt that was the right thing to do.

Then came the video I'm the most proud of. I came across a theory on Reddit about Splatoon 3, based on evidence found in the at the time new Salmon Run stage, Ruins of Ark Polaris. I messaged the creator of the theory asking if I could use it as the basis for a YouTube video, and was told I could. I built on top of it a larger theory, that ended up getting quite a lot right about what Splatoon 3 would be, almost a full year before the New Years 2020 'Save Our Salmons' art where Nintendo made a direct point of Splatoon 3 involving Salmonids.

I made… $35. And for my trouble? Another sexualized thumbnail, with the focal point of the thumbnail being the Smash Ultimate render of the Splatoon Wii U default Inkling Girl, a 14 year old character, having eaten the Spicy Curry item, edited to make her blush more intense. The implications are plain to intuit.

And, this video had unseen effects. In all of my scripts, I would make meticulous notes, of sources, of evidence. In that video, I had cited a translation I came across on Tumblr, belonging to an at the time smaller creative voice, Rassicas. The translation was used in the video as I wrote it, but no citation was given. Rassicas, for their part, for years thought 'Lockstin stole their work'. They have cited not wanting that to happen to them ever again, to stand on their own merits rather than others benefit from their work, as one of the reasons they started their YouTube channel to begin with, with them now considered by the fandom to be the definitive, authoritative voice in the community on Splatoon lore, especially lore that is exclusive to the Japanese text.

For my part, years later when I found this out, I apologized. I even wrote a public apology, taking full accountability, because I had forgotten IF I had credited them or not. When I looked at the script, and found out that I in fact had, and that it was his choice to strip that out, I told them immediately. We were both livid at the revelation.

Then came my final video, and the one I'm the least proud of. One of my team shared a meme that had been blowing up on /r/Splatoon, comparing Inkling and Octoling ear shapes to the mantles of actual squid and octopuses, pointing out that the idols' ear shapes corresponded more to the mantle shape of cuttlefish. We realized it for what it was, a joke, but realized there was an opportunity for an actual video there. I mean, hell, we know cuttlefish Inklings exist thanks to Octo Expansion, so it wouldn't even be bending the canon all that badly. So we ran with it. Made a damn good video, I admit.

Too good. The fandom even now, five and a half years later, is convinced Callie and Marie are cuttlefish.

Lockstin did us another kindness, as well; at the end of the video he plugged a website that I had been putting together, now long-since defunct, for Splatoon lore investigations by my team that I didn't think could be made into videos, either due to the turnaround time required, the length, or the interest. Sending people off of his platform and onto ours. And, on top of the direct plug, the direct shout-out, this time the end card credited 'the team at Inktank.info'. It didn't credit us by name, like the prior videos. But in its place he actively was driving people to our platform instead of his. On the one hand, legitimizing our work as part of a team and a place. But at the same time, meaning our names weren't directly on the video this time. I have mixed feelings about this, but I'm willing to err on the side of leniency and say that wasn't his intention. He was trying to drive eyes to us and our efforts, uplift us as creators, like he had done for others by launching their careers.

And from the video we made $102. The most we made off of any video, even though it performed among the bottom two. I haven't mentioned it until now, but at some point it had been established that this was because Lockstin had been rolling forward ad revenue from past videos into payment for future videos. Unspoken was the fact that, if I wanted to keep making money on my old videos, I'd have to keep making new ones.

Again, I split the money. Even when I was making almost nothing, I wasn't going to let the people who helped me, the people who understood the things I didn't, go unpaid and uncredited. Multiple of the videos contained deep dives on topics like mollusk biology as part of their evidence, which were things I'd have no idea about on my own. Not paying them, not pushing Lockstin to credit them, would be laundering responsibility for the content I sold him, at best.

And, of course, another thumbnail scandal, again falling on me within my friend group. Lockstin had used a Garry's Mod fan render of Marie in the thumbnail, and people who knew I worked on it messaged me about him using stolen art. I ended up giving Lockstin the official render that he had meant to use, which was identically posed so he probably just mixed the two up… He never fixed it. Even now the thumbnail still uses stolen art.

It was at this point I decided to walk away. There was a sixth video that I had begun to research, that I had been planning since the beginning and was really excited to finally work on, but… I just, gradually and silently stopped talking to Lockstin, and I walked away.

I didn't immediately cut contact, though. I maintained messaging him until halfway into 2020. Because despite it all, I saw him as someone I had an amicable relationship with. Because it took time for me to fully accept what had happened to me. I even told him, in our last exchange, that I was still planning on making that sixth video. Because it took me some time to really sit with what happened.

And during that time, something happened. Around the end of 2019 there were serious concerns going around, of the FTC going after YouTube channels run by pop culture focused content creators, due to the updates to COPPA reclassifying them as 'children's content', regardless of what they actually contained. I messaged Lockstin in a panic, telling him if things got that bad, to delist my videos since I lived, and still live, with my dad, both of us disabled and on a fixed income. He assured me that anything that occurred would happen to the channel owner, and that I was safe, no matter what happened. And, "if it does wind up bad I'll be delisting all the videos. and also I'll take the hit for any fines."

Edit 3/12/25 (in bold): Regardless, having done some back-of-the-napkin math talking to Rassicas since making the original version of this post, it turns out I likely was only receiving a 10% share of ad revenue, assuming a standard-at-the-time $2 to $3 CPM for gaming content. Likely less, since I noticed a bump in income on the video that was directly sponsored despite it doing poorly, implying I may have received income from the other videos' sponsors as well. If I received any sponsor money though, knowing now how lucrative sponsorships are, I can't imagine I got a reasonable share of that either. And no matter how much napkin math I do, the fact of the matter is I'll never know exactly how much he made, and exactly how much of it I made. But it wasn't a fair amount.

And when you factor in lost residuals in the years since? The breasts video alone would have made $2,000 to $3,000 by now in just raw CPM, meaning I ultimately made about 2-3% of the ad revenue on that video.

Also, I want to be clear. It was my choice to bring in a team after the fact. He was never responsible for that, and it made a meager pay situation worse. I accept the responsibility for that.

Even now I struggle to square the circle of what this was. I don't know enough about his YouTube finances to know if I was paid fairly, if money really was that tight for him and his team. He had been known for uplifting creators he worked with. He helped launch Arlo's career. I can't imagine he would abuse his employees.

Not to mention, there were good times. This was a gig that I really, truly enjoyed, and put more effort into than he ever asked for. After my first video, at my own personal expense, I flew to Portland for a day to be a part of a fan meetup he did for the channel. He didn't ask me to do that. Hell, he told me not to, he told me I was crazy for doing it. But I did it because I was passionate about the work and about representing my work to his fans. Not only that, every time a video came out, I would spend one or two days, replying, personally, to as many comments as I could, answering questions, clarifying and elaborating on things, interacting with fans on a personal level. He never asked me to do any of that. I did that because I was passionate about the work I was doing. And I don't regret that.

But at the same time, this feels like abuse. Even as he was kind to me at points.

And that's the fear, right? He's 'one of the good ones', even with the sexual clickbait and everything else. My fear is that if I share this story, I'll be crucified for trying to tear down, trying to cancel, someone who overall has a positive reputation, who's much, MUCH bigger than I am. But that's not what this is about. This is just…me telling my story. Me telling people what happened to me.

So, I don't know what to call it, really. Other than a learning experience, as I start to lay the groundwork for my own channel, years later. Because I don't want to do this to other people. No matter what you call it.

And I want to be clear. There are other creators I've worked with. Other people I've made handshake deals with, but who treated me kindly, with integrity and respect, with definite terms set out in advance. And when I haven't gotten paid by those people, it wasn't because they exploited me, it was because the work fizzled out, and there was no profit, so there was no pay to be had. That's not exploitation. That's a reality of the industry. Sometimes things just don't pan out, and that's okay.

What's not okay is the ambiguity, the space in the margins that can be used to exploit others, whether that was one's intention or not. Because I don't think that was Lockstin's intention. I think he saw me as another Arlo, another person he was lifting up. But at the same time, this experience was a source of genuine trauma, and something that I'm only now starting to be comfortable with telling people outside of my friend group, five years after it ended.

Like I said. I'm not trying to tear anyone down. I'm not writing a hit piece. Because I doubt this was malicious. I really do. I know that, if I messaged him? If I told him what his actions were and did to me? We could hash it out, I could get closure privately. And, hell, I might do that if and when I feel ready to. Or, if he sees this and messages me? Hey, dude. I'm open to talk about this. I'm listening, if you want to say something. Because, that's the thing, right? I didn't confront this, publicly or privately, for five years, even after I walked away. I was afraid of talking to him, of what that could mean for me if he disagreed that what he did was harmful. I was afraid of a potential escalation, or losing work in an industry where I'm still only starting to find my voice.

But this isn't about that. It's about making the world a little safer for people like me, for other people who went through what I did and might not have the language or the tools to recognize what they're going through. And to make a public point, that I learned from the experience, that I plan to be better than what happened to me. Not so I can aggrandize myself, but so you, the people reading this, can hold me to it if I ever lose my direction. So I put what happened to me to a stone tablet, never allowed to forget it. Because I want to stop the cycle of abuse before it's allowed to start.

So, thank you. For taking the time to read this, and for taking my story for what it is. It means more than you could ever know, not just to me, but to everyone like me.

Edit 2, 3/12/25: Since making this post, I remembered and checked on something, and it's so much worse than I thought.

In January of 2022, Lockstin posted a series of 'Season Collection' videos, bundling his content year-by-year across seven videos. These videos made up a total almost 55 hours of content and 310 videos.

The first problem... He cut out all of the end cards. All of them. I know I wasn't the only writer he worked with. How many other people went uncredited in these compilations besides me?

The second problem... Going back to the point I made about residuals. How do you even calculate something like that? Compilation content is meant to ride the wave of super-longform content like Arlo's 'A Big Fat Review of Breath of the Wild' or Quinton Reviews' series on Dan Schneider. It's meant to play to YouTube Premium viewers, where creators get a payout based on watch time. A big one. A proportional share per-viewer of 55% of their subscription cost, based on how much of their watchtime went to which channels each month. Both LinusTechTips and Arlo have referenced longer-form content being some of their highest-earning content as a result of this.

So, at best? Maybe he figures out how much money he got from YouTube Premium and tries to split that up based on the retention charts. I can't imagine that'd be reasonable to expect someone to do for seven compilation videos on an ongoing basis. Maybe he just divides all the YouTube Premium money, and the $2 to $3 CPM, across all 310 videos equally. But that doesn't ensure people are paid for the specific viewtime for their specific videos, and on a 10 hour supercut of as many as 60 videos, the CPM split would be negligible.

The third problem... The Season 5 thumbnail has the Agent 8 'white ink' image again, one of a few videos the thumbnail references.

I know that this is a drastically different tone than the rest of this post. But this isn't just 'a good guy making mistakes' anymore. This is systemic abuse of everyone who ever worked with him. Not just writers, but editors, special thanks to people who contributed in other ways... What does he call it? "The vast majority of Lockstin's "Gnoggin" videos, with the sponsorships, needless outros, and end cards removed".

My work. My credit for my work. Is "needless".

And among the videos that he removed, he references 'videos with very incorrect information (such as predictions)'. The Season 6 video removes my Splatoon 3 prediction video. The video that I think was my best work for him, that yes got some things wrong but got a shocking amount right, that has value not just to me but to him on that merit alone. Just proof he didn't understand the content.

I'm sorry. I'm just, angry. I know this is a change in tone but I'm angry.